From c231a2c89aee472fa224df78886fec4d21899ccf Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Robert Morris Date: Thu, 19 Jan 2023 16:13:20 -0500 Subject: [PATCH] update --- .check-build | 127 + .gitignore | 4 + Makefile | 46 + src/.gitignore | 12 + src/go.mod | 3 + src/go.sum | 0 src/kvraft/client.go | 60 + src/kvraft/common.go | 33 + src/kvraft/config.go | 425 + src/kvraft/server.go | 97 + src/kvraft/test_test.go | 720 ++ src/labgob/labgob.go | 177 + src/labgob/test_test.go | 166 + src/labrpc/labrpc.go | 511 ++ src/labrpc/test_test.go | 597 ++ src/main/diskvd.go | 74 + src/main/lockc.go | 31 + src/main/lockd.go | 31 + src/main/mrcoordinator.go | 29 + src/main/mrsequential.go | 108 + src/main/mrworker.go | 49 + src/main/pbc.go | 44 + src/main/pbd.go | 23 + src/main/pg-being_ernest.txt | 3495 ++++++++ src/main/pg-dorian_gray.txt | 8904 ++++++++++++++++++++ src/main/pg-frankenstein.txt | 7653 +++++++++++++++++ src/main/pg-grimm.txt | 9569 +++++++++++++++++++++ src/main/pg-huckleberry_finn.txt | 12361 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++ src/main/pg-metamorphosis.txt | 2362 ++++++ src/main/pg-sherlock_holmes.txt | 13052 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ src/main/pg-tom_sawyer.txt | 9206 ++++++++++++++++++++ src/main/test-mr-many.sh | 23 + src/main/test-mr.sh | 325 + src/main/viewd.go | 23 + src/models/kv.go | 69 + src/mr/coordinator.go | 70 + src/mr/rpc.go | 36 + src/mr/worker.go | 91 + src/mrapps/crash.go | 55 + src/mrapps/early_exit.go | 36 + src/mrapps/indexer.go | 39 + src/mrapps/jobcount.go | 46 + src/mrapps/mtiming.go | 91 + src/mrapps/nocrash.go | 47 + src/mrapps/rtiming.go | 84 + src/mrapps/wc.go | 40 + src/porcupine/bitset.go | 72 + src/porcupine/checker.go | 373 + src/porcupine/model.go | 77 + src/porcupine/porcupine.go | 39 + src/porcupine/visualization.go | 897 ++ src/raft/config.go | 648 ++ src/raft/persister.go | 70 + src/raft/raft.go | 259 + src/raft/test_test.go | 1224 +++ src/raft/util.go | 13 + src/shardctrler/client.go | 101 + src/shardctrler/common.go | 73 + src/shardctrler/config.go | 357 + src/shardctrler/server.go | 76 + src/shardctrler/test_test.go | 403 + src/shardkv/client.go | 129 + src/shardkv/common.go | 44 + src/shardkv/config.go | 382 + src/shardkv/server.go | 97 + src/shardkv/test_test.go | 938 +++ 66 files changed, 77316 insertions(+) create mode 100755 .check-build create mode 100644 .gitignore create mode 100644 Makefile create mode 100644 src/.gitignore create mode 100644 src/go.mod create mode 100644 src/go.sum create mode 100644 src/kvraft/client.go create mode 100644 src/kvraft/common.go create mode 100644 src/kvraft/config.go create mode 100644 src/kvraft/server.go create mode 100644 src/kvraft/test_test.go create mode 100644 src/labgob/labgob.go create mode 100644 src/labgob/test_test.go create mode 100644 src/labrpc/labrpc.go create mode 100644 src/labrpc/test_test.go create mode 100644 src/main/diskvd.go create mode 100644 src/main/lockc.go create mode 100644 src/main/lockd.go create mode 100644 src/main/mrcoordinator.go create mode 100644 src/main/mrsequential.go create mode 100644 src/main/mrworker.go create mode 100644 src/main/pbc.go create mode 100644 src/main/pbd.go create mode 100644 src/main/pg-being_ernest.txt create mode 100644 src/main/pg-dorian_gray.txt create mode 100644 src/main/pg-frankenstein.txt create mode 100644 src/main/pg-grimm.txt create mode 100644 src/main/pg-huckleberry_finn.txt create mode 100644 src/main/pg-metamorphosis.txt create mode 100644 src/main/pg-sherlock_holmes.txt create mode 100644 src/main/pg-tom_sawyer.txt create mode 100644 src/main/test-mr-many.sh create mode 100644 src/main/test-mr.sh create mode 100644 src/main/viewd.go create mode 100644 src/models/kv.go create mode 100644 src/mr/coordinator.go create mode 100644 src/mr/rpc.go create mode 100644 src/mr/worker.go create mode 100644 src/mrapps/crash.go create mode 100644 src/mrapps/early_exit.go create mode 100644 src/mrapps/indexer.go create mode 100644 src/mrapps/jobcount.go create mode 100644 src/mrapps/mtiming.go create mode 100644 src/mrapps/nocrash.go create mode 100644 src/mrapps/rtiming.go create mode 100644 src/mrapps/wc.go create mode 100644 src/porcupine/bitset.go create mode 100644 src/porcupine/checker.go create mode 100644 src/porcupine/model.go create mode 100644 src/porcupine/porcupine.go create mode 100644 src/porcupine/visualization.go create mode 100644 src/raft/config.go create mode 100644 src/raft/persister.go create mode 100644 src/raft/raft.go create mode 100644 src/raft/test_test.go create mode 100644 src/raft/util.go create mode 100644 src/shardctrler/client.go create mode 100644 src/shardctrler/common.go create mode 100644 src/shardctrler/config.go create mode 100644 src/shardctrler/server.go create mode 100644 src/shardctrler/test_test.go create mode 100644 src/shardkv/client.go create mode 100644 src/shardkv/common.go create mode 100644 src/shardkv/config.go create mode 100644 src/shardkv/server.go create mode 100644 src/shardkv/test_test.go diff --git a/.check-build b/.check-build new file mode 100755 index 0000000..73fe4a5 --- /dev/null +++ b/.check-build @@ -0,0 +1,127 @@ +#!/usr/bin/env bash + +set -eu + +REFERENCE_FILES=( + # lab 1 + src/mrapps/crash.go + src/mrapps/indexer.go + src/mrapps/mtiming.go + src/mrapps/nocrash.go + src/mrapps/rtiming.go + src/mrapps/wc.go + src/main/mrsequential.go + src/main/mrcoordinator.go + src/main/mrworker.go + + # lab 2 + src/raft/persister.go + src/raft/test_test.go + src/raft/config.go + src/labrpc/labrpc.go + + # lab 3 + src/kvraft/test_test.go + src/kvraft/config.go + + # lab 4a + src/shardctrler/test_test.go + src/shardctrler/config.go + + # lab 4b + src/shardkv/test_test.go + src/shardkv/config.go +) + +main() { + upstream="$1" + labnum="$2" + + # make sure we have reference copy of lab, in FETCH_HEAD + git fetch "$upstream" 2>/dev/null || die "unable to git fetch $upstream" + + # copy existing directory + tmpdir="$(mktemp -d)" + find src -type s -delete # cp can't copy sockets + cp -r src "$tmpdir" + orig="$PWD" + cd "$tmpdir" + + # check out reference files + for f in ${REFERENCE_FILES[@]}; do + mkdir -p "$(dirname $f)" + git --git-dir="$orig/.git" show "FETCH_HEAD:$f" > "$f" + done + + case $labnum in + "lab1") check_lab1;; + "lab2a"|"lab2b"|"lab2c"|"lab2d") check_lab2;; + "lab3a"|"lab3b") check_lab3;; + "lab4a") check_lab4a;; + "lab4b") check_lab4b;; + *) die "unknown lab: $labnum";; + esac + + cd + rm -rf "$tmpdir" +} + +check_lab1() { + check_cmd cd src/mrapps + check_cmd go build -buildmode=plugin wc.go + check_cmd go build -buildmode=plugin indexer.go + check_cmd go build -buildmode=plugin mtiming.go + check_cmd go build -buildmode=plugin rtiming.go + check_cmd go build -buildmode=plugin crash.go + check_cmd go build -buildmode=plugin nocrash.go + check_cmd cd ../main + check_cmd go build mrcoordinator.go + check_cmd go build mrworker.go + check_cmd go build mrsequential.go +} + +check_lab2() { + check_cmd cd src/raft + check_cmd go test -c +} + +check_lab3() { + check_cmd cd src/kvraft + check_cmd go test -c +} + +check_lab4a() { + check_cmd cd src/shardctrler + check_cmd go test -c +} + +check_lab4b() { + check_cmd cd src/shardkv + check_cmd go test -c + # also check other labs/parts + cd "$tmpdir" + check_lab4a + cd "$tmpdir" + check_lab3 + cd "$tmpdir" + check_lab2 +} + +check_cmd() { + if ! "$@" >/dev/null 2>&1; then + echo "We tried building your source code with testing-related files reverted to original versions, and the build failed. This copy of your code is preserved in $tmpdir for debugging purposes. Please make sure the code you are trying to hand in does not make changes to test code." >&2 + echo >&2 + echo "The build failed while trying to run the following command:" >&2 + echo >&2 + echo "$ $@" >&2 + echo " (cwd: ${PWD#$tmpdir/})" >&2 + exit 1 + fi +} + +die() { + echo "$1" >&2 + exit 1 +} + +main "$@" diff --git a/.gitignore b/.gitignore new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a209ee8 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitignore @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +pkg/ +api.key +.api.key.trimmed +*-handin.tar.gz diff --git a/Makefile b/Makefile new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ab24212 --- /dev/null +++ b/Makefile @@ -0,0 +1,46 @@ +# This is the Makefile helping you submit the labs. +# Just create 6.5840/api.key with your API key in it, +# and submit your lab with the following command: +# $ make [lab1|lab2a|lab2b|lab2c|lab2d|lab3a|lab3b|lab4a|lab4b] + +LABS=" lab1 lab2a lab2b lab2c lab2d lab3a lab3b lab4a lab4b " + +%: check-% + @echo "Preparing $@-handin.tar.gz" + @if echo $(LABS) | grep -q " $@ " ; then \ + echo "Tarring up your submission..." ; \ + COPYFILE_DISABLE=1 tar cvzf $@-handin.tar.gz \ + "--exclude=src/main/pg-*.txt" \ + "--exclude=src/main/diskvd" \ + "--exclude=src/mapreduce/824-mrinput-*.txt" \ + "--exclude=src/mapreduce/5840-mrinput-*.txt" \ + "--exclude=src/main/mr-*" \ + "--exclude=mrtmp.*" \ + "--exclude=src/main/diff.out" \ + "--exclude=src/main/mrcoordinator" \ + "--exclude=src/main/mrsequential" \ + "--exclude=src/main/mrworker" \ + "--exclude=*.so" \ + Makefile src; \ + if ! test -e api.key ; then \ + echo "Missing $(PWD)/api.key. Please create the file with your key in it or submit the $@-handin.tar.gz via the web interface."; \ + else \ + echo "Are you sure you want to submit $@? Enter 'yes' to continue:"; \ + read line; \ + if test "$$line" != "yes" ; then echo "Giving up submission"; exit; fi; \ + if test `stat -c "%s" "$@-handin.tar.gz" 2>/dev/null || stat -f "%z" "$@-handin.tar.gz"` -ge 20971520 ; then echo "File exceeds 20MB."; exit; fi; \ + cat api.key | tr -d '\n' > .api.key.trimmed ; \ + curl --silent --fail --show-error -F file=@$@-handin.tar.gz -F "key=<.api.key.trimmed" \ + https://6824.scripts.mit.edu/2023/handin.py/upload > /dev/null || { \ + echo ; \ + echo "Submit seems to have failed."; \ + echo "Please upload the tarball manually on the submission website."; } \ + fi; \ + else \ + echo "Bad target $@. Usage: make [$(LABS)]"; \ + fi + +.PHONY: check-% +check-%: + @echo "Checking that your submission builds correctly..." + @./.check-build git://g.csail.mit.edu/6.5840-golabs-2023 $(patsubst check-%,%,$@) diff --git a/src/.gitignore b/src/.gitignore new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2101505 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/.gitignore @@ -0,0 +1,12 @@ +*.*/ +main/mr-tmp/ +mrtmp.* +824-mrinput-*.txt +/main/diff.out +/mapreduce/x.txt +/pbservice/x.txt +/kvpaxos/x.txt +*.so +/main/mrcoordinator +/main/mrsequential +/main/mrworker diff --git a/src/go.mod b/src/go.mod new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6e00474 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/go.mod @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +module 6.5840 + +go 1.15 diff --git a/src/go.sum b/src/go.sum new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e69de29 diff --git a/src/kvraft/client.go b/src/kvraft/client.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4762894 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/kvraft/client.go @@ -0,0 +1,60 @@ +package kvraft + +import "6.5840/labrpc" +import "crypto/rand" +import "math/big" + + +type Clerk struct { + servers []*labrpc.ClientEnd + // You will have to modify this struct. +} + +func nrand() int64 { + max := big.NewInt(int64(1) << 62) + bigx, _ := rand.Int(rand.Reader, max) + x := bigx.Int64() + return x +} + +func MakeClerk(servers []*labrpc.ClientEnd) *Clerk { + ck := new(Clerk) + ck.servers = servers + // You'll have to add code here. + return ck +} + +// fetch the current value for a key. +// returns "" if the key does not exist. +// keeps trying forever in the face of all other errors. +// +// you can send an RPC with code like this: +// ok := ck.servers[i].Call("KVServer.Get", &args, &reply) +// +// the types of args and reply (including whether they are pointers) +// must match the declared types of the RPC handler function's +// arguments. and reply must be passed as a pointer. +func (ck *Clerk) Get(key string) string { + + // You will have to modify this function. + return "" +} + +// shared by Put and Append. +// +// you can send an RPC with code like this: +// ok := ck.servers[i].Call("KVServer.PutAppend", &args, &reply) +// +// the types of args and reply (including whether they are pointers) +// must match the declared types of the RPC handler function's +// arguments. and reply must be passed as a pointer. +func (ck *Clerk) PutAppend(key string, value string, op string) { + // You will have to modify this function. +} + +func (ck *Clerk) Put(key string, value string) { + ck.PutAppend(key, value, "Put") +} +func (ck *Clerk) Append(key string, value string) { + ck.PutAppend(key, value, "Append") +} diff --git a/src/kvraft/common.go b/src/kvraft/common.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e5ee442 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/kvraft/common.go @@ -0,0 +1,33 @@ +package kvraft + +const ( + OK = "OK" + ErrNoKey = "ErrNoKey" + ErrWrongLeader = "ErrWrongLeader" +) + +type Err string + +// Put or Append +type PutAppendArgs struct { + Key string + Value string + Op string // "Put" or "Append" + // You'll have to add definitions here. + // Field names must start with capital letters, + // otherwise RPC will break. +} + +type PutAppendReply struct { + Err Err +} + +type GetArgs struct { + Key string + // You'll have to add definitions here. +} + +type GetReply struct { + Err Err + Value string +} diff --git a/src/kvraft/config.go b/src/kvraft/config.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1c62b67 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/kvraft/config.go @@ -0,0 +1,425 @@ +package kvraft + +import "6.5840/labrpc" +import "testing" +import "os" + +// import "log" +import crand "crypto/rand" +import "math/big" +import "math/rand" +import "encoding/base64" +import "sync" +import "runtime" +import "6.5840/raft" +import "fmt" +import "time" +import "sync/atomic" + +func randstring(n int) string { + b := make([]byte, 2*n) + crand.Read(b) + s := base64.URLEncoding.EncodeToString(b) + return s[0:n] +} + +func makeSeed() int64 { + max := big.NewInt(int64(1) << 62) + bigx, _ := crand.Int(crand.Reader, max) + x := bigx.Int64() + return x +} + +// Randomize server handles +func random_handles(kvh []*labrpc.ClientEnd) []*labrpc.ClientEnd { + sa := make([]*labrpc.ClientEnd, len(kvh)) + copy(sa, kvh) + for i := range sa { + j := rand.Intn(i + 1) + sa[i], sa[j] = sa[j], sa[i] + } + return sa +} + +type config struct { + mu sync.Mutex + t *testing.T + net *labrpc.Network + n int + kvservers []*KVServer + saved []*raft.Persister + endnames [][]string // names of each server's sending ClientEnds + clerks map[*Clerk][]string + nextClientId int + maxraftstate int + start time.Time // time at which make_config() was called + // begin()/end() statistics + t0 time.Time // time at which test_test.go called cfg.begin() + rpcs0 int // rpcTotal() at start of test + ops int32 // number of clerk get/put/append method calls +} + +func (cfg *config) checkTimeout() { + // enforce a two minute real-time limit on each test + if !cfg.t.Failed() && time.Since(cfg.start) > 120*time.Second { + cfg.t.Fatal("test took longer than 120 seconds") + } +} + +func (cfg *config) cleanup() { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + for i := 0; i < len(cfg.kvservers); i++ { + if cfg.kvservers[i] != nil { + cfg.kvservers[i].Kill() + } + } + cfg.net.Cleanup() + cfg.checkTimeout() +} + +// Maximum log size across all servers +func (cfg *config) LogSize() int { + logsize := 0 + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + n := cfg.saved[i].RaftStateSize() + if n > logsize { + logsize = n + } + } + return logsize +} + +// Maximum snapshot size across all servers +func (cfg *config) SnapshotSize() int { + snapshotsize := 0 + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + n := cfg.saved[i].SnapshotSize() + if n > snapshotsize { + snapshotsize = n + } + } + return snapshotsize +} + +// attach server i to servers listed in to +// caller must hold cfg.mu +func (cfg *config) connectUnlocked(i int, to []int) { + // log.Printf("connect peer %d to %v\n", i, to) + + // outgoing socket files + for j := 0; j < len(to); j++ { + endname := cfg.endnames[i][to[j]] + cfg.net.Enable(endname, true) + } + + // incoming socket files + for j := 0; j < len(to); j++ { + endname := cfg.endnames[to[j]][i] + cfg.net.Enable(endname, true) + } +} + +func (cfg *config) connect(i int, to []int) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + cfg.connectUnlocked(i, to) +} + +// detach server i from the servers listed in from +// caller must hold cfg.mu +func (cfg *config) disconnectUnlocked(i int, from []int) { + // log.Printf("disconnect peer %d from %v\n", i, from) + + // outgoing socket files + for j := 0; j < len(from); j++ { + if cfg.endnames[i] != nil { + endname := cfg.endnames[i][from[j]] + cfg.net.Enable(endname, false) + } + } + + // incoming socket files + for j := 0; j < len(from); j++ { + if cfg.endnames[j] != nil { + endname := cfg.endnames[from[j]][i] + cfg.net.Enable(endname, false) + } + } +} + +func (cfg *config) disconnect(i int, from []int) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + cfg.disconnectUnlocked(i, from) +} + +func (cfg *config) All() []int { + all := make([]int, cfg.n) + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + all[i] = i + } + return all +} + +func (cfg *config) ConnectAll() { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + cfg.connectUnlocked(i, cfg.All()) + } +} + +// Sets up 2 partitions with connectivity between servers in each partition. +func (cfg *config) partition(p1 []int, p2 []int) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + // log.Printf("partition servers into: %v %v\n", p1, p2) + for i := 0; i < len(p1); i++ { + cfg.disconnectUnlocked(p1[i], p2) + cfg.connectUnlocked(p1[i], p1) + } + for i := 0; i < len(p2); i++ { + cfg.disconnectUnlocked(p2[i], p1) + cfg.connectUnlocked(p2[i], p2) + } +} + +// Create a clerk with clerk specific server names. +// Give it connections to all of the servers, but for +// now enable only connections to servers in to[]. +func (cfg *config) makeClient(to []int) *Clerk { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + + // a fresh set of ClientEnds. + ends := make([]*labrpc.ClientEnd, cfg.n) + endnames := make([]string, cfg.n) + for j := 0; j < cfg.n; j++ { + endnames[j] = randstring(20) + ends[j] = cfg.net.MakeEnd(endnames[j]) + cfg.net.Connect(endnames[j], j) + } + + ck := MakeClerk(random_handles(ends)) + cfg.clerks[ck] = endnames + cfg.nextClientId++ + cfg.ConnectClientUnlocked(ck, to) + return ck +} + +func (cfg *config) deleteClient(ck *Clerk) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + + v := cfg.clerks[ck] + for i := 0; i < len(v); i++ { + os.Remove(v[i]) + } + delete(cfg.clerks, ck) +} + +// caller should hold cfg.mu +func (cfg *config) ConnectClientUnlocked(ck *Clerk, to []int) { + // log.Printf("ConnectClient %v to %v\n", ck, to) + endnames := cfg.clerks[ck] + for j := 0; j < len(to); j++ { + s := endnames[to[j]] + cfg.net.Enable(s, true) + } +} + +func (cfg *config) ConnectClient(ck *Clerk, to []int) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + cfg.ConnectClientUnlocked(ck, to) +} + +// caller should hold cfg.mu +func (cfg *config) DisconnectClientUnlocked(ck *Clerk, from []int) { + // log.Printf("DisconnectClient %v from %v\n", ck, from) + endnames := cfg.clerks[ck] + for j := 0; j < len(from); j++ { + s := endnames[from[j]] + cfg.net.Enable(s, false) + } +} + +func (cfg *config) DisconnectClient(ck *Clerk, from []int) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + cfg.DisconnectClientUnlocked(ck, from) +} + +// Shutdown a server by isolating it +func (cfg *config) ShutdownServer(i int) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + + cfg.disconnectUnlocked(i, cfg.All()) + + // disable client connections to the server. + // it's important to do this before creating + // the new Persister in saved[i], to avoid + // the possibility of the server returning a + // positive reply to an Append but persisting + // the result in the superseded Persister. + cfg.net.DeleteServer(i) + + // a fresh persister, in case old instance + // continues to update the Persister. + // but copy old persister's content so that we always + // pass Make() the last persisted state. + if cfg.saved[i] != nil { + cfg.saved[i] = cfg.saved[i].Copy() + } + + kv := cfg.kvservers[i] + if kv != nil { + cfg.mu.Unlock() + kv.Kill() + cfg.mu.Lock() + cfg.kvservers[i] = nil + } +} + +// If restart servers, first call ShutdownServer +func (cfg *config) StartServer(i int) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + + // a fresh set of outgoing ClientEnd names. + cfg.endnames[i] = make([]string, cfg.n) + for j := 0; j < cfg.n; j++ { + cfg.endnames[i][j] = randstring(20) + } + + // a fresh set of ClientEnds. + ends := make([]*labrpc.ClientEnd, cfg.n) + for j := 0; j < cfg.n; j++ { + ends[j] = cfg.net.MakeEnd(cfg.endnames[i][j]) + cfg.net.Connect(cfg.endnames[i][j], j) + } + + // a fresh persister, so old instance doesn't overwrite + // new instance's persisted state. + // give the fresh persister a copy of the old persister's + // state, so that the spec is that we pass StartKVServer() + // the last persisted state. + if cfg.saved[i] != nil { + cfg.saved[i] = cfg.saved[i].Copy() + } else { + cfg.saved[i] = raft.MakePersister() + } + cfg.mu.Unlock() + + cfg.kvservers[i] = StartKVServer(ends, i, cfg.saved[i], cfg.maxraftstate) + + kvsvc := labrpc.MakeService(cfg.kvservers[i]) + rfsvc := labrpc.MakeService(cfg.kvservers[i].rf) + srv := labrpc.MakeServer() + srv.AddService(kvsvc) + srv.AddService(rfsvc) + cfg.net.AddServer(i, srv) +} + +func (cfg *config) Leader() (bool, int) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + _, is_leader := cfg.kvservers[i].rf.GetState() + if is_leader { + return true, i + } + } + return false, 0 +} + +// Partition servers into 2 groups and put current leader in minority +func (cfg *config) make_partition() ([]int, []int) { + _, l := cfg.Leader() + p1 := make([]int, cfg.n/2+1) + p2 := make([]int, cfg.n/2) + j := 0 + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + if i != l { + if j < len(p1) { + p1[j] = i + } else { + p2[j-len(p1)] = i + } + j++ + } + } + p2[len(p2)-1] = l + return p1, p2 +} + +var ncpu_once sync.Once + +func make_config(t *testing.T, n int, unreliable bool, maxraftstate int) *config { + ncpu_once.Do(func() { + if runtime.NumCPU() < 2 { + fmt.Printf("warning: only one CPU, which may conceal locking bugs\n") + } + rand.Seed(makeSeed()) + }) + runtime.GOMAXPROCS(4) + cfg := &config{} + cfg.t = t + cfg.net = labrpc.MakeNetwork() + cfg.n = n + cfg.kvservers = make([]*KVServer, cfg.n) + cfg.saved = make([]*raft.Persister, cfg.n) + cfg.endnames = make([][]string, cfg.n) + cfg.clerks = make(map[*Clerk][]string) + cfg.nextClientId = cfg.n + 1000 // client ids start 1000 above the highest serverid + cfg.maxraftstate = maxraftstate + cfg.start = time.Now() + + // create a full set of KV servers. + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + cfg.StartServer(i) + } + + cfg.ConnectAll() + + cfg.net.Reliable(!unreliable) + + return cfg +} + +func (cfg *config) rpcTotal() int { + return cfg.net.GetTotalCount() +} + +// start a Test. +// print the Test message. +// e.g. cfg.begin("Test (2B): RPC counts aren't too high") +func (cfg *config) begin(description string) { + fmt.Printf("%s ...\n", description) + cfg.t0 = time.Now() + cfg.rpcs0 = cfg.rpcTotal() + atomic.StoreInt32(&cfg.ops, 0) +} + +func (cfg *config) op() { + atomic.AddInt32(&cfg.ops, 1) +} + +// end a Test -- the fact that we got here means there +// was no failure. +// print the Passed message, +// and some performance numbers. +func (cfg *config) end() { + cfg.checkTimeout() + if cfg.t.Failed() == false { + t := time.Since(cfg.t0).Seconds() // real time + npeers := cfg.n // number of Raft peers + nrpc := cfg.rpcTotal() - cfg.rpcs0 // number of RPC sends + ops := atomic.LoadInt32(&cfg.ops) // number of clerk get/put/append calls + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed --") + fmt.Printf(" %4.1f %d %5d %4d\n", t, npeers, nrpc, ops) + } +} diff --git a/src/kvraft/server.go b/src/kvraft/server.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5e8a6ec --- /dev/null +++ b/src/kvraft/server.go @@ -0,0 +1,97 @@ +package kvraft + +import ( + "6.5840/labgob" + "6.5840/labrpc" + "6.5840/raft" + "log" + "sync" + "sync/atomic" +) + +const Debug = false + +func DPrintf(format string, a ...interface{}) (n int, err error) { + if Debug { + log.Printf(format, a...) + } + return +} + + +type Op struct { + // Your definitions here. + // Field names must start with capital letters, + // otherwise RPC will break. +} + +type KVServer struct { + mu sync.Mutex + me int + rf *raft.Raft + applyCh chan raft.ApplyMsg + dead int32 // set by Kill() + + maxraftstate int // snapshot if log grows this big + + // Your definitions here. +} + + +func (kv *KVServer) Get(args *GetArgs, reply *GetReply) { + // Your code here. +} + +func (kv *KVServer) PutAppend(args *PutAppendArgs, reply *PutAppendReply) { + // Your code here. +} + +// the tester calls Kill() when a KVServer instance won't +// be needed again. for your convenience, we supply +// code to set rf.dead (without needing a lock), +// and a killed() method to test rf.dead in +// long-running loops. you can also add your own +// code to Kill(). you're not required to do anything +// about this, but it may be convenient (for example) +// to suppress debug output from a Kill()ed instance. +func (kv *KVServer) Kill() { + atomic.StoreInt32(&kv.dead, 1) + kv.rf.Kill() + // Your code here, if desired. +} + +func (kv *KVServer) killed() bool { + z := atomic.LoadInt32(&kv.dead) + return z == 1 +} + +// servers[] contains the ports of the set of +// servers that will cooperate via Raft to +// form the fault-tolerant key/value service. +// me is the index of the current server in servers[]. +// the k/v server should store snapshots through the underlying Raft +// implementation, which should call persister.SaveStateAndSnapshot() to +// atomically save the Raft state along with the snapshot. +// the k/v server should snapshot when Raft's saved state exceeds maxraftstate bytes, +// in order to allow Raft to garbage-collect its log. if maxraftstate is -1, +// you don't need to snapshot. +// StartKVServer() must return quickly, so it should start goroutines +// for any long-running work. +func StartKVServer(servers []*labrpc.ClientEnd, me int, persister *raft.Persister, maxraftstate int) *KVServer { + // call labgob.Register on structures you want + // Go's RPC library to marshall/unmarshall. + labgob.Register(Op{}) + + kv := new(KVServer) + kv.me = me + kv.maxraftstate = maxraftstate + + // You may need initialization code here. + + kv.applyCh = make(chan raft.ApplyMsg) + kv.rf = raft.Make(servers, me, persister, kv.applyCh) + + // You may need initialization code here. + + return kv +} diff --git a/src/kvraft/test_test.go b/src/kvraft/test_test.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..56cec5e --- /dev/null +++ b/src/kvraft/test_test.go @@ -0,0 +1,720 @@ +package kvraft + +import "6.5840/porcupine" +import "6.5840/models" +import "testing" +import "strconv" +import "time" +import "math/rand" +import "strings" +import "sync" +import "sync/atomic" +import "fmt" +import "io/ioutil" + +// The tester generously allows solutions to complete elections in one second +// (much more than the paper's range of timeouts). +const electionTimeout = 1 * time.Second + +const linearizabilityCheckTimeout = 1 * time.Second + +type OpLog struct { + operations []porcupine.Operation + sync.Mutex +} + +func (log *OpLog) Append(op porcupine.Operation) { + log.Lock() + defer log.Unlock() + log.operations = append(log.operations, op) +} + +func (log *OpLog) Read() []porcupine.Operation { + log.Lock() + defer log.Unlock() + ops := make([]porcupine.Operation, len(log.operations)) + copy(ops, log.operations) + return ops +} + +// to make sure timestamps use the monotonic clock, instead of computing +// absolute timestamps with `time.Now().UnixNano()` (which uses the wall +// clock), we measure time relative to `t0` using `time.Since(t0)`, which uses +// the monotonic clock +var t0 = time.Now() + +// get/put/putappend that keep counts +func Get(cfg *config, ck *Clerk, key string, log *OpLog, cli int) string { + start := int64(time.Since(t0)) + v := ck.Get(key) + end := int64(time.Since(t0)) + cfg.op() + if log != nil { + log.Append(porcupine.Operation{ + Input: models.KvInput{Op: 0, Key: key}, + Output: models.KvOutput{Value: v}, + Call: start, + Return: end, + ClientId: cli, + }) + } + + return v +} + +func Put(cfg *config, ck *Clerk, key string, value string, log *OpLog, cli int) { + start := int64(time.Since(t0)) + ck.Put(key, value) + end := int64(time.Since(t0)) + cfg.op() + if log != nil { + log.Append(porcupine.Operation{ + Input: models.KvInput{Op: 1, Key: key, Value: value}, + Output: models.KvOutput{}, + Call: start, + Return: end, + ClientId: cli, + }) + } +} + +func Append(cfg *config, ck *Clerk, key string, value string, log *OpLog, cli int) { + start := int64(time.Since(t0)) + ck.Append(key, value) + end := int64(time.Since(t0)) + cfg.op() + if log != nil { + log.Append(porcupine.Operation{ + Input: models.KvInput{Op: 2, Key: key, Value: value}, + Output: models.KvOutput{}, + Call: start, + Return: end, + ClientId: cli, + }) + } +} + +func check(cfg *config, t *testing.T, ck *Clerk, key string, value string) { + v := Get(cfg, ck, key, nil, -1) + if v != value { + t.Fatalf("Get(%v): expected:\n%v\nreceived:\n%v", key, value, v) + } +} + +// a client runs the function f and then signals it is done +func run_client(t *testing.T, cfg *config, me int, ca chan bool, fn func(me int, ck *Clerk, t *testing.T)) { + ok := false + defer func() { ca <- ok }() + ck := cfg.makeClient(cfg.All()) + fn(me, ck, t) + ok = true + cfg.deleteClient(ck) +} + +// spawn ncli clients and wait until they are all done +func spawn_clients_and_wait(t *testing.T, cfg *config, ncli int, fn func(me int, ck *Clerk, t *testing.T)) { + ca := make([]chan bool, ncli) + for cli := 0; cli < ncli; cli++ { + ca[cli] = make(chan bool) + go run_client(t, cfg, cli, ca[cli], fn) + } + // log.Printf("spawn_clients_and_wait: waiting for clients") + for cli := 0; cli < ncli; cli++ { + ok := <-ca[cli] + // log.Printf("spawn_clients_and_wait: client %d is done\n", cli) + if ok == false { + t.Fatalf("failure") + } + } +} + +// predict effect of Append(k, val) if old value is prev. +func NextValue(prev string, val string) string { + return prev + val +} + +// check that for a specific client all known appends are present in a value, +// and in order +func checkClntAppends(t *testing.T, clnt int, v string, count int) { + lastoff := -1 + for j := 0; j < count; j++ { + wanted := "x " + strconv.Itoa(clnt) + " " + strconv.Itoa(j) + " y" + off := strings.Index(v, wanted) + if off < 0 { + t.Fatalf("%v missing element %v in Append result %v", clnt, wanted, v) + } + off1 := strings.LastIndex(v, wanted) + if off1 != off { + t.Fatalf("duplicate element %v in Append result", wanted) + } + if off <= lastoff { + t.Fatalf("wrong order for element %v in Append result", wanted) + } + lastoff = off + } +} + +// check that all known appends are present in a value, +// and are in order for each concurrent client. +func checkConcurrentAppends(t *testing.T, v string, counts []int) { + nclients := len(counts) + for i := 0; i < nclients; i++ { + lastoff := -1 + for j := 0; j < counts[i]; j++ { + wanted := "x " + strconv.Itoa(i) + " " + strconv.Itoa(j) + " y" + off := strings.Index(v, wanted) + if off < 0 { + t.Fatalf("%v missing element %v in Append result %v", i, wanted, v) + } + off1 := strings.LastIndex(v, wanted) + if off1 != off { + t.Fatalf("duplicate element %v in Append result", wanted) + } + if off <= lastoff { + t.Fatalf("wrong order for element %v in Append result", wanted) + } + lastoff = off + } + } +} + +// repartition the servers periodically +func partitioner(t *testing.T, cfg *config, ch chan bool, done *int32) { + defer func() { ch <- true }() + for atomic.LoadInt32(done) == 0 { + a := make([]int, cfg.n) + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + a[i] = (rand.Int() % 2) + } + pa := make([][]int, 2) + for i := 0; i < 2; i++ { + pa[i] = make([]int, 0) + for j := 0; j < cfg.n; j++ { + if a[j] == i { + pa[i] = append(pa[i], j) + } + } + } + cfg.partition(pa[0], pa[1]) + time.Sleep(electionTimeout + time.Duration(rand.Int63()%200)*time.Millisecond) + } +} + +// Basic test is as follows: one or more clients submitting Append/Get +// operations to set of servers for some period of time. After the period is +// over, test checks that all appended values are present and in order for a +// particular key. If unreliable is set, RPCs may fail. If crash is set, the +// servers crash after the period is over and restart. If partitions is set, +// the test repartitions the network concurrently with the clients and servers. If +// maxraftstate is a positive number, the size of the state for Raft (i.e., log +// size) shouldn't exceed 8*maxraftstate. If maxraftstate is negative, +// snapshots shouldn't be used. +func GenericTest(t *testing.T, part string, nclients int, nservers int, unreliable bool, crash bool, partitions bool, maxraftstate int, randomkeys bool) { + + title := "Test: " + if unreliable { + // the network drops RPC requests and replies. + title = title + "unreliable net, " + } + if crash { + // peers re-start, and thus persistence must work. + title = title + "restarts, " + } + if partitions { + // the network may partition + title = title + "partitions, " + } + if maxraftstate != -1 { + title = title + "snapshots, " + } + if randomkeys { + title = title + "random keys, " + } + if nclients > 1 { + title = title + "many clients" + } else { + title = title + "one client" + } + title = title + " (" + part + ")" // 3A or 3B + + cfg := make_config(t, nservers, unreliable, maxraftstate) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin(title) + opLog := &OpLog{} + + ck := cfg.makeClient(cfg.All()) + + done_partitioner := int32(0) + done_clients := int32(0) + ch_partitioner := make(chan bool) + clnts := make([]chan int, nclients) + for i := 0; i < nclients; i++ { + clnts[i] = make(chan int) + } + for i := 0; i < 3; i++ { + // log.Printf("Iteration %v\n", i) + atomic.StoreInt32(&done_clients, 0) + atomic.StoreInt32(&done_partitioner, 0) + go spawn_clients_and_wait(t, cfg, nclients, func(cli int, myck *Clerk, t *testing.T) { + j := 0 + defer func() { + clnts[cli] <- j + }() + last := "" // only used when not randomkeys + if !randomkeys { + Put(cfg, myck, strconv.Itoa(cli), last, opLog, cli) + } + for atomic.LoadInt32(&done_clients) == 0 { + var key string + if randomkeys { + key = strconv.Itoa(rand.Intn(nclients)) + } else { + key = strconv.Itoa(cli) + } + nv := "x " + strconv.Itoa(cli) + " " + strconv.Itoa(j) + " y" + if (rand.Int() % 1000) < 500 { + // log.Printf("%d: client new append %v\n", cli, nv) + Append(cfg, myck, key, nv, opLog, cli) + if !randomkeys { + last = NextValue(last, nv) + } + j++ + } else if randomkeys && (rand.Int()%1000) < 100 { + // we only do this when using random keys, because it would break the + // check done after Get() operations + Put(cfg, myck, key, nv, opLog, cli) + j++ + } else { + // log.Printf("%d: client new get %v\n", cli, key) + v := Get(cfg, myck, key, opLog, cli) + // the following check only makes sense when we're not using random keys + if !randomkeys && v != last { + t.Fatalf("get wrong value, key %v, wanted:\n%v\n, got\n%v\n", key, last, v) + } + } + } + }) + + if partitions { + // Allow the clients to perform some operations without interruption + time.Sleep(1 * time.Second) + go partitioner(t, cfg, ch_partitioner, &done_partitioner) + } + time.Sleep(5 * time.Second) + + atomic.StoreInt32(&done_clients, 1) // tell clients to quit + atomic.StoreInt32(&done_partitioner, 1) // tell partitioner to quit + + if partitions { + // log.Printf("wait for partitioner\n") + <-ch_partitioner + // reconnect network and submit a request. A client may + // have submitted a request in a minority. That request + // won't return until that server discovers a new term + // has started. + cfg.ConnectAll() + // wait for a while so that we have a new term + time.Sleep(electionTimeout) + } + + if crash { + // log.Printf("shutdown servers\n") + for i := 0; i < nservers; i++ { + cfg.ShutdownServer(i) + } + // Wait for a while for servers to shutdown, since + // shutdown isn't a real crash and isn't instantaneous + time.Sleep(electionTimeout) + // log.Printf("restart servers\n") + // crash and re-start all + for i := 0; i < nservers; i++ { + cfg.StartServer(i) + } + cfg.ConnectAll() + } + + // log.Printf("wait for clients\n") + for i := 0; i < nclients; i++ { + // log.Printf("read from clients %d\n", i) + j := <-clnts[i] + // if j < 10 { + // log.Printf("Warning: client %d managed to perform only %d put operations in 1 sec?\n", i, j) + // } + key := strconv.Itoa(i) + // log.Printf("Check %v for client %d\n", j, i) + v := Get(cfg, ck, key, opLog, 0) + if !randomkeys { + checkClntAppends(t, i, v, j) + } + } + + if maxraftstate > 0 { + // Check maximum after the servers have processed all client + // requests and had time to checkpoint. + sz := cfg.LogSize() + if sz > 8*maxraftstate { + t.Fatalf("logs were not trimmed (%v > 8*%v)", sz, maxraftstate) + } + } + if maxraftstate < 0 { + // Check that snapshots are not used + ssz := cfg.SnapshotSize() + if ssz > 0 { + t.Fatalf("snapshot too large (%v), should not be used when maxraftstate = %d", ssz, maxraftstate) + } + } + } + + res, info := porcupine.CheckOperationsVerbose(models.KvModel, opLog.Read(), linearizabilityCheckTimeout) + if res == porcupine.Illegal { + file, err := ioutil.TempFile("", "*.html") + if err != nil { + fmt.Printf("info: failed to create temp file for visualization") + } else { + err = porcupine.Visualize(models.KvModel, info, file) + if err != nil { + fmt.Printf("info: failed to write history visualization to %s\n", file.Name()) + } else { + fmt.Printf("info: wrote history visualization to %s\n", file.Name()) + } + } + t.Fatal("history is not linearizable") + } else if res == porcupine.Unknown { + fmt.Println("info: linearizability check timed out, assuming history is ok") + } + + cfg.end() +} + +// Check that ops are committed fast enough, better than 1 per heartbeat interval +func GenericTestSpeed(t *testing.T, part string, maxraftstate int) { + const nservers = 3 + const numOps = 1000 + cfg := make_config(t, nservers, false, maxraftstate) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + ck := cfg.makeClient(cfg.All()) + + cfg.begin(fmt.Sprintf("Test: ops complete fast enough (%s)", part)) + + // wait until first op completes, so we know a leader is elected + // and KV servers are ready to process client requests + ck.Get("x") + + start := time.Now() + for i := 0; i < numOps; i++ { + ck.Append("x", "x 0 "+strconv.Itoa(i)+" y") + } + dur := time.Since(start) + + v := ck.Get("x") + checkClntAppends(t, 0, v, numOps) + + // heartbeat interval should be ~ 100 ms; require at least 3 ops per + const heartbeatInterval = 100 * time.Millisecond + const opsPerInterval = 3 + const timePerOp = heartbeatInterval / opsPerInterval + if dur > numOps*timePerOp { + t.Fatalf("Operations completed too slowly %v/op > %v/op\n", dur/numOps, timePerOp) + } + + cfg.end() +} + +func TestBasic3A(t *testing.T) { + // Test: one client (3A) ... + GenericTest(t, "3A", 1, 5, false, false, false, -1, false) +} + +func TestSpeed3A(t *testing.T) { + GenericTestSpeed(t, "3A", -1) +} + +func TestConcurrent3A(t *testing.T) { + // Test: many clients (3A) ... + GenericTest(t, "3A", 5, 5, false, false, false, -1, false) +} + +func TestUnreliable3A(t *testing.T) { + // Test: unreliable net, many clients (3A) ... + GenericTest(t, "3A", 5, 5, true, false, false, -1, false) +} + +func TestUnreliableOneKey3A(t *testing.T) { + const nservers = 3 + cfg := make_config(t, nservers, true, -1) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + ck := cfg.makeClient(cfg.All()) + + cfg.begin("Test: concurrent append to same key, unreliable (3A)") + + Put(cfg, ck, "k", "", nil, -1) + + const nclient = 5 + const upto = 10 + spawn_clients_and_wait(t, cfg, nclient, func(me int, myck *Clerk, t *testing.T) { + n := 0 + for n < upto { + Append(cfg, myck, "k", "x "+strconv.Itoa(me)+" "+strconv.Itoa(n)+" y", nil, -1) + n++ + } + }) + + var counts []int + for i := 0; i < nclient; i++ { + counts = append(counts, upto) + } + + vx := Get(cfg, ck, "k", nil, -1) + checkConcurrentAppends(t, vx, counts) + + cfg.end() +} + +// Submit a request in the minority partition and check that the requests +// doesn't go through until the partition heals. The leader in the original +// network ends up in the minority partition. +func TestOnePartition3A(t *testing.T) { + const nservers = 5 + cfg := make_config(t, nservers, false, -1) + defer cfg.cleanup() + ck := cfg.makeClient(cfg.All()) + + Put(cfg, ck, "1", "13", nil, -1) + + cfg.begin("Test: progress in majority (3A)") + + p1, p2 := cfg.make_partition() + cfg.partition(p1, p2) + + ckp1 := cfg.makeClient(p1) // connect ckp1 to p1 + ckp2a := cfg.makeClient(p2) // connect ckp2a to p2 + ckp2b := cfg.makeClient(p2) // connect ckp2b to p2 + + Put(cfg, ckp1, "1", "14", nil, -1) + check(cfg, t, ckp1, "1", "14") + + cfg.end() + + done0 := make(chan bool) + done1 := make(chan bool) + + cfg.begin("Test: no progress in minority (3A)") + go func() { + Put(cfg, ckp2a, "1", "15", nil, -1) + done0 <- true + }() + go func() { + Get(cfg, ckp2b, "1", nil, -1) // different clerk in p2 + done1 <- true + }() + + select { + case <-done0: + t.Fatalf("Put in minority completed") + case <-done1: + t.Fatalf("Get in minority completed") + case <-time.After(time.Second): + } + + check(cfg, t, ckp1, "1", "14") + Put(cfg, ckp1, "1", "16", nil, -1) + check(cfg, t, ckp1, "1", "16") + + cfg.end() + + cfg.begin("Test: completion after heal (3A)") + + cfg.ConnectAll() + cfg.ConnectClient(ckp2a, cfg.All()) + cfg.ConnectClient(ckp2b, cfg.All()) + + time.Sleep(electionTimeout) + + select { + case <-done0: + case <-time.After(30 * 100 * time.Millisecond): + t.Fatalf("Put did not complete") + } + + select { + case <-done1: + case <-time.After(30 * 100 * time.Millisecond): + t.Fatalf("Get did not complete") + default: + } + + check(cfg, t, ck, "1", "15") + + cfg.end() +} + +func TestManyPartitionsOneClient3A(t *testing.T) { + // Test: partitions, one client (3A) ... + GenericTest(t, "3A", 1, 5, false, false, true, -1, false) +} + +func TestManyPartitionsManyClients3A(t *testing.T) { + // Test: partitions, many clients (3A) ... + GenericTest(t, "3A", 5, 5, false, false, true, -1, false) +} + +func TestPersistOneClient3A(t *testing.T) { + // Test: restarts, one client (3A) ... + GenericTest(t, "3A", 1, 5, false, true, false, -1, false) +} + +func TestPersistConcurrent3A(t *testing.T) { + // Test: restarts, many clients (3A) ... + GenericTest(t, "3A", 5, 5, false, true, false, -1, false) +} + +func TestPersistConcurrentUnreliable3A(t *testing.T) { + // Test: unreliable net, restarts, many clients (3A) ... + GenericTest(t, "3A", 5, 5, true, true, false, -1, false) +} + +func TestPersistPartition3A(t *testing.T) { + // Test: restarts, partitions, many clients (3A) ... + GenericTest(t, "3A", 5, 5, false, true, true, -1, false) +} + +func TestPersistPartitionUnreliable3A(t *testing.T) { + // Test: unreliable net, restarts, partitions, many clients (3A) ... + GenericTest(t, "3A", 5, 5, true, true, true, -1, false) +} + +func TestPersistPartitionUnreliableLinearizable3A(t *testing.T) { + // Test: unreliable net, restarts, partitions, random keys, many clients (3A) ... + GenericTest(t, "3A", 15, 7, true, true, true, -1, true) +} + +// if one server falls behind, then rejoins, does it +// recover by using the InstallSnapshot RPC? +// also checks that majority discards committed log entries +// even if minority doesn't respond. +func TestSnapshotRPC3B(t *testing.T) { + const nservers = 3 + maxraftstate := 1000 + cfg := make_config(t, nservers, false, maxraftstate) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + ck := cfg.makeClient(cfg.All()) + + cfg.begin("Test: InstallSnapshot RPC (3B)") + + Put(cfg, ck, "a", "A", nil, -1) + check(cfg, t, ck, "a", "A") + + // a bunch of puts into the majority partition. + cfg.partition([]int{0, 1}, []int{2}) + { + ck1 := cfg.makeClient([]int{0, 1}) + for i := 0; i < 50; i++ { + Put(cfg, ck1, strconv.Itoa(i), strconv.Itoa(i), nil, -1) + } + time.Sleep(electionTimeout) + Put(cfg, ck1, "b", "B", nil, -1) + } + + // check that the majority partition has thrown away + // most of its log entries. + sz := cfg.LogSize() + if sz > 8*maxraftstate { + t.Fatalf("logs were not trimmed (%v > 8*%v)", sz, maxraftstate) + } + + // now make group that requires participation of + // lagging server, so that it has to catch up. + cfg.partition([]int{0, 2}, []int{1}) + { + ck1 := cfg.makeClient([]int{0, 2}) + Put(cfg, ck1, "c", "C", nil, -1) + Put(cfg, ck1, "d", "D", nil, -1) + check(cfg, t, ck1, "a", "A") + check(cfg, t, ck1, "b", "B") + check(cfg, t, ck1, "1", "1") + check(cfg, t, ck1, "49", "49") + } + + // now everybody + cfg.partition([]int{0, 1, 2}, []int{}) + + Put(cfg, ck, "e", "E", nil, -1) + check(cfg, t, ck, "c", "C") + check(cfg, t, ck, "e", "E") + check(cfg, t, ck, "1", "1") + + cfg.end() +} + +// are the snapshots not too huge? 500 bytes is a generous bound for the +// operations we're doing here. +func TestSnapshotSize3B(t *testing.T) { + const nservers = 3 + maxraftstate := 1000 + maxsnapshotstate := 500 + cfg := make_config(t, nservers, false, maxraftstate) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + ck := cfg.makeClient(cfg.All()) + + cfg.begin("Test: snapshot size is reasonable (3B)") + + for i := 0; i < 200; i++ { + Put(cfg, ck, "x", "0", nil, -1) + check(cfg, t, ck, "x", "0") + Put(cfg, ck, "x", "1", nil, -1) + check(cfg, t, ck, "x", "1") + } + + // check that servers have thrown away most of their log entries + sz := cfg.LogSize() + if sz > 8*maxraftstate { + t.Fatalf("logs were not trimmed (%v > 8*%v)", sz, maxraftstate) + } + + // check that the snapshots are not unreasonably large + ssz := cfg.SnapshotSize() + if ssz > maxsnapshotstate { + t.Fatalf("snapshot too large (%v > %v)", ssz, maxsnapshotstate) + } + + cfg.end() +} + +func TestSpeed3B(t *testing.T) { + GenericTestSpeed(t, "3B", 1000) +} + +func TestSnapshotRecover3B(t *testing.T) { + // Test: restarts, snapshots, one client (3B) ... + GenericTest(t, "3B", 1, 5, false, true, false, 1000, false) +} + +func TestSnapshotRecoverManyClients3B(t *testing.T) { + // Test: restarts, snapshots, many clients (3B) ... + GenericTest(t, "3B", 20, 5, false, true, false, 1000, false) +} + +func TestSnapshotUnreliable3B(t *testing.T) { + // Test: unreliable net, snapshots, many clients (3B) ... + GenericTest(t, "3B", 5, 5, true, false, false, 1000, false) +} + +func TestSnapshotUnreliableRecover3B(t *testing.T) { + // Test: unreliable net, restarts, snapshots, many clients (3B) ... + GenericTest(t, "3B", 5, 5, true, true, false, 1000, false) +} + +func TestSnapshotUnreliableRecoverConcurrentPartition3B(t *testing.T) { + // Test: unreliable net, restarts, partitions, snapshots, many clients (3B) ... + GenericTest(t, "3B", 5, 5, true, true, true, 1000, false) +} + +func TestSnapshotUnreliableRecoverConcurrentPartitionLinearizable3B(t *testing.T) { + // Test: unreliable net, restarts, partitions, snapshots, random keys, many clients (3B) ... + GenericTest(t, "3B", 15, 7, true, true, true, 1000, true) +} diff --git a/src/labgob/labgob.go b/src/labgob/labgob.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..22cb91a --- /dev/null +++ b/src/labgob/labgob.go @@ -0,0 +1,177 @@ +package labgob + +// +// trying to send non-capitalized fields over RPC produces a range of +// misbehavior, including both mysterious incorrect computation and +// outright crashes. so this wrapper around Go's encoding/gob warns +// about non-capitalized field names. +// + +import "encoding/gob" +import "io" +import "reflect" +import "fmt" +import "sync" +import "unicode" +import "unicode/utf8" + +var mu sync.Mutex +var errorCount int // for TestCapital +var checked map[reflect.Type]bool + +type LabEncoder struct { + gob *gob.Encoder +} + +func NewEncoder(w io.Writer) *LabEncoder { + enc := &LabEncoder{} + enc.gob = gob.NewEncoder(w) + return enc +} + +func (enc *LabEncoder) Encode(e interface{}) error { + checkValue(e) + return enc.gob.Encode(e) +} + +func (enc *LabEncoder) EncodeValue(value reflect.Value) error { + checkValue(value.Interface()) + return enc.gob.EncodeValue(value) +} + +type LabDecoder struct { + gob *gob.Decoder +} + +func NewDecoder(r io.Reader) *LabDecoder { + dec := &LabDecoder{} + dec.gob = gob.NewDecoder(r) + return dec +} + +func (dec *LabDecoder) Decode(e interface{}) error { + checkValue(e) + checkDefault(e) + return dec.gob.Decode(e) +} + +func Register(value interface{}) { + checkValue(value) + gob.Register(value) +} + +func RegisterName(name string, value interface{}) { + checkValue(value) + gob.RegisterName(name, value) +} + +func checkValue(value interface{}) { + checkType(reflect.TypeOf(value)) +} + +func checkType(t reflect.Type) { + k := t.Kind() + + mu.Lock() + // only complain once, and avoid recursion. + if checked == nil { + checked = map[reflect.Type]bool{} + } + if checked[t] { + mu.Unlock() + return + } + checked[t] = true + mu.Unlock() + + switch k { + case reflect.Struct: + for i := 0; i < t.NumField(); i++ { + f := t.Field(i) + rune, _ := utf8.DecodeRuneInString(f.Name) + if unicode.IsUpper(rune) == false { + // ta da + fmt.Printf("labgob error: lower-case field %v of %v in RPC or persist/snapshot will break your Raft\n", + f.Name, t.Name()) + mu.Lock() + errorCount += 1 + mu.Unlock() + } + checkType(f.Type) + } + return + case reflect.Slice, reflect.Array, reflect.Ptr: + checkType(t.Elem()) + return + case reflect.Map: + checkType(t.Elem()) + checkType(t.Key()) + return + default: + return + } +} + +// +// warn if the value contains non-default values, +// as it would if one sent an RPC but the reply +// struct was already modified. if the RPC reply +// contains default values, GOB won't overwrite +// the non-default value. +// +func checkDefault(value interface{}) { + if value == nil { + return + } + checkDefault1(reflect.ValueOf(value), 1, "") +} + +func checkDefault1(value reflect.Value, depth int, name string) { + if depth > 3 { + return + } + + t := value.Type() + k := t.Kind() + + switch k { + case reflect.Struct: + for i := 0; i < t.NumField(); i++ { + vv := value.Field(i) + name1 := t.Field(i).Name + if name != "" { + name1 = name + "." + name1 + } + checkDefault1(vv, depth+1, name1) + } + return + case reflect.Ptr: + if value.IsNil() { + return + } + checkDefault1(value.Elem(), depth+1, name) + return + case reflect.Bool, + reflect.Int, reflect.Int8, reflect.Int16, reflect.Int32, reflect.Int64, + reflect.Uint, reflect.Uint8, reflect.Uint16, reflect.Uint32, reflect.Uint64, + reflect.Uintptr, reflect.Float32, reflect.Float64, + reflect.String: + if reflect.DeepEqual(reflect.Zero(t).Interface(), value.Interface()) == false { + mu.Lock() + if errorCount < 1 { + what := name + if what == "" { + what = t.Name() + } + // this warning typically arises if code re-uses the same RPC reply + // variable for multiple RPC calls, or if code restores persisted + // state into variable that already have non-default values. + fmt.Printf("labgob warning: Decoding into a non-default variable/field %v may not work\n", + what) + } + errorCount += 1 + mu.Unlock() + } + return + } +} diff --git a/src/labgob/test_test.go b/src/labgob/test_test.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3bf2b9e --- /dev/null +++ b/src/labgob/test_test.go @@ -0,0 +1,166 @@ +package labgob + +import "testing" + +import "bytes" + +type T1 struct { + T1int0 int + T1int1 int + T1string0 string + T1string1 string +} + +type T2 struct { + T2slice []T1 + T2map map[int]*T1 + T2t3 interface{} +} + +type T3 struct { + T3int999 int +} + +// test that we didn't break GOB. +func TestGOB(t *testing.T) { + e0 := errorCount + + w := new(bytes.Buffer) + + Register(T3{}) + + { + x0 := 0 + x1 := 1 + t1 := T1{} + t1.T1int1 = 1 + t1.T1string1 = "6.5840" + t2 := T2{} + t2.T2slice = []T1{T1{}, t1} + t2.T2map = map[int]*T1{} + t2.T2map[99] = &T1{1, 2, "x", "y"} + t2.T2t3 = T3{999} + + e := NewEncoder(w) + e.Encode(x0) + e.Encode(x1) + e.Encode(t1) + e.Encode(t2) + } + data := w.Bytes() + + { + var x0 int + var x1 int + var t1 T1 + var t2 T2 + + r := bytes.NewBuffer(data) + d := NewDecoder(r) + if d.Decode(&x0) != nil || + d.Decode(&x1) != nil || + d.Decode(&t1) != nil || + d.Decode(&t2) != nil { + t.Fatalf("Decode failed") + } + + if x0 != 0 { + t.Fatalf("wrong x0 %v\n", x0) + } + if x1 != 1 { + t.Fatalf("wrong x1 %v\n", x1) + } + if t1.T1int0 != 0 { + t.Fatalf("wrong t1.T1int0 %v\n", t1.T1int0) + } + if t1.T1int1 != 1 { + t.Fatalf("wrong t1.T1int1 %v\n", t1.T1int1) + } + if t1.T1string0 != "" { + t.Fatalf("wrong t1.T1string0 %v\n", t1.T1string0) + } + if t1.T1string1 != "6.5840" { + t.Fatalf("wrong t1.T1string1 %v\n", t1.T1string1) + } + if len(t2.T2slice) != 2 { + t.Fatalf("wrong t2.T2slice len %v\n", len(t2.T2slice)) + } + if t2.T2slice[1].T1int1 != 1 { + t.Fatalf("wrong slice value\n") + } + if len(t2.T2map) != 1 { + t.Fatalf("wrong t2.T2map len %v\n", len(t2.T2map)) + } + if t2.T2map[99].T1string1 != "y" { + t.Fatalf("wrong map value\n") + } + t3 := (t2.T2t3).(T3) + if t3.T3int999 != 999 { + t.Fatalf("wrong t2.T2t3.T3int999\n") + } + } + + if errorCount != e0 { + t.Fatalf("there were errors, but should not have been") + } +} + +type T4 struct { + Yes int + no int +} + +// make sure we check capitalization +// labgob prints one warning during this test. +func TestCapital(t *testing.T) { + e0 := errorCount + + v := []map[*T4]int{} + + w := new(bytes.Buffer) + e := NewEncoder(w) + e.Encode(v) + data := w.Bytes() + + var v1 []map[T4]int + r := bytes.NewBuffer(data) + d := NewDecoder(r) + d.Decode(&v1) + + if errorCount != e0+1 { + t.Fatalf("failed to warn about lower-case field") + } +} + +// check that we warn when someone sends a default value over +// RPC but the target into which we're decoding holds a non-default +// value, which GOB seems not to overwrite as you'd expect. +// +// labgob does not print a warning. +func TestDefault(t *testing.T) { + e0 := errorCount + + type DD struct { + X int + } + + // send a default value... + dd1 := DD{} + + w := new(bytes.Buffer) + e := NewEncoder(w) + e.Encode(dd1) + data := w.Bytes() + + // and receive it into memory that already + // holds non-default values. + reply := DD{99} + + r := bytes.NewBuffer(data) + d := NewDecoder(r) + d.Decode(&reply) + + if errorCount != e0+1 { + t.Fatalf("failed to warn about decoding into non-default value") + } +} diff --git a/src/labrpc/labrpc.go b/src/labrpc/labrpc.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c5b1f54 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/labrpc/labrpc.go @@ -0,0 +1,511 @@ +package labrpc + +// +// channel-based RPC, for 6.5840 labs. +// +// simulates a network that can lose requests, lose replies, +// delay messages, and entirely disconnect particular hosts. +// +// we will use the original labrpc.go to test your code for grading. +// so, while you can modify this code to help you debug, please +// test against the original before submitting. +// +// adapted from Go net/rpc/server.go. +// +// sends labgob-encoded values to ensure that RPCs +// don't include references to program objects. +// +// net := MakeNetwork() -- holds network, clients, servers. +// end := net.MakeEnd(endname) -- create a client end-point, to talk to one server. +// net.AddServer(servername, server) -- adds a named server to network. +// net.DeleteServer(servername) -- eliminate the named server. +// net.Connect(endname, servername) -- connect a client to a server. +// net.Enable(endname, enabled) -- enable/disable a client. +// net.Reliable(bool) -- false means drop/delay messages +// +// end.Call("Raft.AppendEntries", &args, &reply) -- send an RPC, wait for reply. +// the "Raft" is the name of the server struct to be called. +// the "AppendEntries" is the name of the method to be called. +// Call() returns true to indicate that the server executed the request +// and the reply is valid. +// Call() returns false if the network lost the request or reply +// or the server is down. +// It is OK to have multiple Call()s in progress at the same time on the +// same ClientEnd. +// Concurrent calls to Call() may be delivered to the server out of order, +// since the network may re-order messages. +// Call() is guaranteed to return (perhaps after a delay) *except* if the +// handler function on the server side does not return. +// the server RPC handler function must declare its args and reply arguments +// as pointers, so that their types exactly match the types of the arguments +// to Call(). +// +// srv := MakeServer() +// srv.AddService(svc) -- a server can have multiple services, e.g. Raft and k/v +// pass srv to net.AddServer() +// +// svc := MakeService(receiverObject) -- obj's methods will handle RPCs +// much like Go's rpcs.Register() +// pass svc to srv.AddService() +// + +import "6.5840/labgob" +import "bytes" +import "reflect" +import "sync" +import "log" +import "strings" +import "math/rand" +import "time" +import "sync/atomic" + +type reqMsg struct { + endname interface{} // name of sending ClientEnd + svcMeth string // e.g. "Raft.AppendEntries" + argsType reflect.Type + args []byte + replyCh chan replyMsg +} + +type replyMsg struct { + ok bool + reply []byte +} + +type ClientEnd struct { + endname interface{} // this end-point's name + ch chan reqMsg // copy of Network.endCh + done chan struct{} // closed when Network is cleaned up +} + +// send an RPC, wait for the reply. +// the return value indicates success; false means that +// no reply was received from the server. +func (e *ClientEnd) Call(svcMeth string, args interface{}, reply interface{}) bool { + req := reqMsg{} + req.endname = e.endname + req.svcMeth = svcMeth + req.argsType = reflect.TypeOf(args) + req.replyCh = make(chan replyMsg) + + qb := new(bytes.Buffer) + qe := labgob.NewEncoder(qb) + if err := qe.Encode(args); err != nil { + panic(err) + } + req.args = qb.Bytes() + + // + // send the request. + // + select { + case e.ch <- req: + // the request has been sent. + case <-e.done: + // entire Network has been destroyed. + return false + } + + // + // wait for the reply. + // + rep := <-req.replyCh + if rep.ok { + rb := bytes.NewBuffer(rep.reply) + rd := labgob.NewDecoder(rb) + if err := rd.Decode(reply); err != nil { + log.Fatalf("ClientEnd.Call(): decode reply: %v\n", err) + } + return true + } else { + return false + } +} + +type Network struct { + mu sync.Mutex + reliable bool + longDelays bool // pause a long time on send on disabled connection + longReordering bool // sometimes delay replies a long time + ends map[interface{}]*ClientEnd // ends, by name + enabled map[interface{}]bool // by end name + servers map[interface{}]*Server // servers, by name + connections map[interface{}]interface{} // endname -> servername + endCh chan reqMsg + done chan struct{} // closed when Network is cleaned up + count int32 // total RPC count, for statistics + bytes int64 // total bytes send, for statistics +} + +func MakeNetwork() *Network { + rn := &Network{} + rn.reliable = true + rn.ends = map[interface{}]*ClientEnd{} + rn.enabled = map[interface{}]bool{} + rn.servers = map[interface{}]*Server{} + rn.connections = map[interface{}](interface{}){} + rn.endCh = make(chan reqMsg) + rn.done = make(chan struct{}) + + // single goroutine to handle all ClientEnd.Call()s + go func() { + for { + select { + case xreq := <-rn.endCh: + atomic.AddInt32(&rn.count, 1) + atomic.AddInt64(&rn.bytes, int64(len(xreq.args))) + go rn.processReq(xreq) + case <-rn.done: + return + } + } + }() + + return rn +} + +func (rn *Network) Cleanup() { + close(rn.done) +} + +func (rn *Network) Reliable(yes bool) { + rn.mu.Lock() + defer rn.mu.Unlock() + + rn.reliable = yes +} + +func (rn *Network) LongReordering(yes bool) { + rn.mu.Lock() + defer rn.mu.Unlock() + + rn.longReordering = yes +} + +func (rn *Network) LongDelays(yes bool) { + rn.mu.Lock() + defer rn.mu.Unlock() + + rn.longDelays = yes +} + +func (rn *Network) readEndnameInfo(endname interface{}) (enabled bool, + servername interface{}, server *Server, reliable bool, longreordering bool, +) { + rn.mu.Lock() + defer rn.mu.Unlock() + + enabled = rn.enabled[endname] + servername = rn.connections[endname] + if servername != nil { + server = rn.servers[servername] + } + reliable = rn.reliable + longreordering = rn.longReordering + return +} + +func (rn *Network) isServerDead(endname interface{}, servername interface{}, server *Server) bool { + rn.mu.Lock() + defer rn.mu.Unlock() + + if rn.enabled[endname] == false || rn.servers[servername] != server { + return true + } + return false +} + +func (rn *Network) processReq(req reqMsg) { + enabled, servername, server, reliable, longreordering := rn.readEndnameInfo(req.endname) + + if enabled && servername != nil && server != nil { + if reliable == false { + // short delay + ms := (rand.Int() % 27) + time.Sleep(time.Duration(ms) * time.Millisecond) + } + + if reliable == false && (rand.Int()%1000) < 100 { + // drop the request, return as if timeout + req.replyCh <- replyMsg{false, nil} + return + } + + // execute the request (call the RPC handler). + // in a separate thread so that we can periodically check + // if the server has been killed and the RPC should get a + // failure reply. + ech := make(chan replyMsg) + go func() { + r := server.dispatch(req) + ech <- r + }() + + // wait for handler to return, + // but stop waiting if DeleteServer() has been called, + // and return an error. + var reply replyMsg + replyOK := false + serverDead := false + for replyOK == false && serverDead == false { + select { + case reply = <-ech: + replyOK = true + case <-time.After(100 * time.Millisecond): + serverDead = rn.isServerDead(req.endname, servername, server) + if serverDead { + go func() { + <-ech // drain channel to let the goroutine created earlier terminate + }() + } + } + } + + // do not reply if DeleteServer() has been called, i.e. + // the server has been killed. this is needed to avoid + // situation in which a client gets a positive reply + // to an Append, but the server persisted the update + // into the old Persister. config.go is careful to call + // DeleteServer() before superseding the Persister. + serverDead = rn.isServerDead(req.endname, servername, server) + + if replyOK == false || serverDead == true { + // server was killed while we were waiting; return error. + req.replyCh <- replyMsg{false, nil} + } else if reliable == false && (rand.Int()%1000) < 100 { + // drop the reply, return as if timeout + req.replyCh <- replyMsg{false, nil} + } else if longreordering == true && rand.Intn(900) < 600 { + // delay the response for a while + ms := 200 + rand.Intn(1+rand.Intn(2000)) + // Russ points out that this timer arrangement will decrease + // the number of goroutines, so that the race + // detector is less likely to get upset. + time.AfterFunc(time.Duration(ms)*time.Millisecond, func() { + atomic.AddInt64(&rn.bytes, int64(len(reply.reply))) + req.replyCh <- reply + }) + } else { + atomic.AddInt64(&rn.bytes, int64(len(reply.reply))) + req.replyCh <- reply + } + } else { + // simulate no reply and eventual timeout. + ms := 0 + if rn.longDelays { + // let Raft tests check that leader doesn't send + // RPCs synchronously. + ms = (rand.Int() % 7000) + } else { + // many kv tests require the client to try each + // server in fairly rapid succession. + ms = (rand.Int() % 100) + } + time.AfterFunc(time.Duration(ms)*time.Millisecond, func() { + req.replyCh <- replyMsg{false, nil} + }) + } + +} + +// create a client end-point. +// start the thread that listens and delivers. +func (rn *Network) MakeEnd(endname interface{}) *ClientEnd { + rn.mu.Lock() + defer rn.mu.Unlock() + + if _, ok := rn.ends[endname]; ok { + log.Fatalf("MakeEnd: %v already exists\n", endname) + } + + e := &ClientEnd{} + e.endname = endname + e.ch = rn.endCh + e.done = rn.done + rn.ends[endname] = e + rn.enabled[endname] = false + rn.connections[endname] = nil + + return e +} + +func (rn *Network) AddServer(servername interface{}, rs *Server) { + rn.mu.Lock() + defer rn.mu.Unlock() + + rn.servers[servername] = rs +} + +func (rn *Network) DeleteServer(servername interface{}) { + rn.mu.Lock() + defer rn.mu.Unlock() + + rn.servers[servername] = nil +} + +// connect a ClientEnd to a server. +// a ClientEnd can only be connected once in its lifetime. +func (rn *Network) Connect(endname interface{}, servername interface{}) { + rn.mu.Lock() + defer rn.mu.Unlock() + + rn.connections[endname] = servername +} + +// enable/disable a ClientEnd. +func (rn *Network) Enable(endname interface{}, enabled bool) { + rn.mu.Lock() + defer rn.mu.Unlock() + + rn.enabled[endname] = enabled +} + +// get a server's count of incoming RPCs. +func (rn *Network) GetCount(servername interface{}) int { + rn.mu.Lock() + defer rn.mu.Unlock() + + svr := rn.servers[servername] + return svr.GetCount() +} + +func (rn *Network) GetTotalCount() int { + x := atomic.LoadInt32(&rn.count) + return int(x) +} + +func (rn *Network) GetTotalBytes() int64 { + x := atomic.LoadInt64(&rn.bytes) + return x +} + +// a server is a collection of services, all sharing +// the same rpc dispatcher. so that e.g. both a Raft +// and a k/v server can listen to the same rpc endpoint. +type Server struct { + mu sync.Mutex + services map[string]*Service + count int // incoming RPCs +} + +func MakeServer() *Server { + rs := &Server{} + rs.services = map[string]*Service{} + return rs +} + +func (rs *Server) AddService(svc *Service) { + rs.mu.Lock() + defer rs.mu.Unlock() + rs.services[svc.name] = svc +} + +func (rs *Server) dispatch(req reqMsg) replyMsg { + rs.mu.Lock() + + rs.count += 1 + + // split Raft.AppendEntries into service and method + dot := strings.LastIndex(req.svcMeth, ".") + serviceName := req.svcMeth[:dot] + methodName := req.svcMeth[dot+1:] + + service, ok := rs.services[serviceName] + + rs.mu.Unlock() + + if ok { + return service.dispatch(methodName, req) + } else { + choices := []string{} + for k, _ := range rs.services { + choices = append(choices, k) + } + log.Fatalf("labrpc.Server.dispatch(): unknown service %v in %v.%v; expecting one of %v\n", + serviceName, serviceName, methodName, choices) + return replyMsg{false, nil} + } +} + +func (rs *Server) GetCount() int { + rs.mu.Lock() + defer rs.mu.Unlock() + return rs.count +} + +// an object with methods that can be called via RPC. +// a single server may have more than one Service. +type Service struct { + name string + rcvr reflect.Value + typ reflect.Type + methods map[string]reflect.Method +} + +func MakeService(rcvr interface{}) *Service { + svc := &Service{} + svc.typ = reflect.TypeOf(rcvr) + svc.rcvr = reflect.ValueOf(rcvr) + svc.name = reflect.Indirect(svc.rcvr).Type().Name() + svc.methods = map[string]reflect.Method{} + + for m := 0; m < svc.typ.NumMethod(); m++ { + method := svc.typ.Method(m) + mtype := method.Type + mname := method.Name + + //fmt.Printf("%v pp %v ni %v 1k %v 2k %v no %v\n", + // mname, method.PkgPath, mtype.NumIn(), mtype.In(1).Kind(), mtype.In(2).Kind(), mtype.NumOut()) + + if method.PkgPath != "" || // capitalized? + mtype.NumIn() != 3 || + //mtype.In(1).Kind() != reflect.Ptr || + mtype.In(2).Kind() != reflect.Ptr || + mtype.NumOut() != 0 { + // the method is not suitable for a handler + //fmt.Printf("bad method: %v\n", mname) + } else { + // the method looks like a handler + svc.methods[mname] = method + } + } + + return svc +} + +func (svc *Service) dispatch(methname string, req reqMsg) replyMsg { + if method, ok := svc.methods[methname]; ok { + // prepare space into which to read the argument. + // the Value's type will be a pointer to req.argsType. + args := reflect.New(req.argsType) + + // decode the argument. + ab := bytes.NewBuffer(req.args) + ad := labgob.NewDecoder(ab) + ad.Decode(args.Interface()) + + // allocate space for the reply. + replyType := method.Type.In(2) + replyType = replyType.Elem() + replyv := reflect.New(replyType) + + // call the method. + function := method.Func + function.Call([]reflect.Value{svc.rcvr, args.Elem(), replyv}) + + // encode the reply. + rb := new(bytes.Buffer) + re := labgob.NewEncoder(rb) + re.EncodeValue(replyv) + + return replyMsg{true, rb.Bytes()} + } else { + choices := []string{} + for k, _ := range svc.methods { + choices = append(choices, k) + } + log.Fatalf("labrpc.Service.dispatch(): unknown method %v in %v; expecting one of %v\n", + methname, req.svcMeth, choices) + return replyMsg{false, nil} + } +} diff --git a/src/labrpc/test_test.go b/src/labrpc/test_test.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1ec3e65 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/labrpc/test_test.go @@ -0,0 +1,597 @@ +package labrpc + +import "testing" +import "strconv" +import "sync" +import "runtime" +import "time" +import "fmt" + +type JunkArgs struct { + X int +} +type JunkReply struct { + X string +} + +type JunkServer struct { + mu sync.Mutex + log1 []string + log2 []int +} + +func (js *JunkServer) Handler1(args string, reply *int) { + js.mu.Lock() + defer js.mu.Unlock() + js.log1 = append(js.log1, args) + *reply, _ = strconv.Atoi(args) +} + +func (js *JunkServer) Handler2(args int, reply *string) { + js.mu.Lock() + defer js.mu.Unlock() + js.log2 = append(js.log2, args) + *reply = "handler2-" + strconv.Itoa(args) +} + +func (js *JunkServer) Handler3(args int, reply *int) { + js.mu.Lock() + defer js.mu.Unlock() + time.Sleep(20 * time.Second) + *reply = -args +} + +// args is a pointer +func (js *JunkServer) Handler4(args *JunkArgs, reply *JunkReply) { + reply.X = "pointer" +} + +// args is a not pointer +func (js *JunkServer) Handler5(args JunkArgs, reply *JunkReply) { + reply.X = "no pointer" +} + +func (js *JunkServer) Handler6(args string, reply *int) { + js.mu.Lock() + defer js.mu.Unlock() + *reply = len(args) +} + +func (js *JunkServer) Handler7(args int, reply *string) { + js.mu.Lock() + defer js.mu.Unlock() + *reply = "" + for i := 0; i < args; i++ { + *reply = *reply + "y" + } +} + +func TestBasic(t *testing.T) { + runtime.GOMAXPROCS(4) + + rn := MakeNetwork() + defer rn.Cleanup() + + e := rn.MakeEnd("end1-99") + + js := &JunkServer{} + svc := MakeService(js) + + rs := MakeServer() + rs.AddService(svc) + rn.AddServer("server99", rs) + + rn.Connect("end1-99", "server99") + rn.Enable("end1-99", true) + + { + reply := "" + e.Call("JunkServer.Handler2", 111, &reply) + if reply != "handler2-111" { + t.Fatalf("wrong reply from Handler2") + } + } + + { + reply := 0 + e.Call("JunkServer.Handler1", "9099", &reply) + if reply != 9099 { + t.Fatalf("wrong reply from Handler1") + } + } +} + +func TestTypes(t *testing.T) { + runtime.GOMAXPROCS(4) + + rn := MakeNetwork() + defer rn.Cleanup() + + e := rn.MakeEnd("end1-99") + + js := &JunkServer{} + svc := MakeService(js) + + rs := MakeServer() + rs.AddService(svc) + rn.AddServer("server99", rs) + + rn.Connect("end1-99", "server99") + rn.Enable("end1-99", true) + + { + var args JunkArgs + var reply JunkReply + // args must match type (pointer or not) of handler. + e.Call("JunkServer.Handler4", &args, &reply) + if reply.X != "pointer" { + t.Fatalf("wrong reply from Handler4") + } + } + + { + var args JunkArgs + var reply JunkReply + // args must match type (pointer or not) of handler. + e.Call("JunkServer.Handler5", args, &reply) + if reply.X != "no pointer" { + t.Fatalf("wrong reply from Handler5") + } + } +} + +// +// does net.Enable(endname, false) really disconnect a client? +// +func TestDisconnect(t *testing.T) { + runtime.GOMAXPROCS(4) + + rn := MakeNetwork() + defer rn.Cleanup() + + e := rn.MakeEnd("end1-99") + + js := &JunkServer{} + svc := MakeService(js) + + rs := MakeServer() + rs.AddService(svc) + rn.AddServer("server99", rs) + + rn.Connect("end1-99", "server99") + + { + reply := "" + e.Call("JunkServer.Handler2", 111, &reply) + if reply != "" { + t.Fatalf("unexpected reply from Handler2") + } + } + + rn.Enable("end1-99", true) + + { + reply := 0 + e.Call("JunkServer.Handler1", "9099", &reply) + if reply != 9099 { + t.Fatalf("wrong reply from Handler1") + } + } +} + +// +// test net.GetCount() +// +func TestCounts(t *testing.T) { + runtime.GOMAXPROCS(4) + + rn := MakeNetwork() + defer rn.Cleanup() + + e := rn.MakeEnd("end1-99") + + js := &JunkServer{} + svc := MakeService(js) + + rs := MakeServer() + rs.AddService(svc) + rn.AddServer(99, rs) + + rn.Connect("end1-99", 99) + rn.Enable("end1-99", true) + + for i := 0; i < 17; i++ { + reply := "" + e.Call("JunkServer.Handler2", i, &reply) + wanted := "handler2-" + strconv.Itoa(i) + if reply != wanted { + t.Fatalf("wrong reply %v from Handler1, expecting %v", reply, wanted) + } + } + + n := rn.GetCount(99) + if n != 17 { + t.Fatalf("wrong GetCount() %v, expected 17\n", n) + } +} + +// +// test net.GetTotalBytes() +// +func TestBytes(t *testing.T) { + runtime.GOMAXPROCS(4) + + rn := MakeNetwork() + defer rn.Cleanup() + + e := rn.MakeEnd("end1-99") + + js := &JunkServer{} + svc := MakeService(js) + + rs := MakeServer() + rs.AddService(svc) + rn.AddServer(99, rs) + + rn.Connect("end1-99", 99) + rn.Enable("end1-99", true) + + for i := 0; i < 17; i++ { + args := "xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx" + args = args + args + args = args + args + reply := 0 + e.Call("JunkServer.Handler6", args, &reply) + wanted := len(args) + if reply != wanted { + t.Fatalf("wrong reply %v from Handler6, expecting %v", reply, wanted) + } + } + + n := rn.GetTotalBytes() + if n < 4828 || n > 6000 { + t.Fatalf("wrong GetTotalBytes() %v, expected about 5000\n", n) + } + + for i := 0; i < 17; i++ { + args := 107 + reply := "" + e.Call("JunkServer.Handler7", args, &reply) + wanted := args + if len(reply) != wanted { + t.Fatalf("wrong reply len=%v from Handler6, expecting %v", len(reply), wanted) + } + } + + nn := rn.GetTotalBytes() - n + if nn < 1800 || nn > 2500 { + t.Fatalf("wrong GetTotalBytes() %v, expected about 2000\n", nn) + } +} + +// +// test RPCs from concurrent ClientEnds +// +func TestConcurrentMany(t *testing.T) { + runtime.GOMAXPROCS(4) + + rn := MakeNetwork() + defer rn.Cleanup() + + js := &JunkServer{} + svc := MakeService(js) + + rs := MakeServer() + rs.AddService(svc) + rn.AddServer(1000, rs) + + ch := make(chan int) + + nclients := 20 + nrpcs := 10 + for ii := 0; ii < nclients; ii++ { + go func(i int) { + n := 0 + defer func() { ch <- n }() + + e := rn.MakeEnd(i) + rn.Connect(i, 1000) + rn.Enable(i, true) + + for j := 0; j < nrpcs; j++ { + arg := i*100 + j + reply := "" + e.Call("JunkServer.Handler2", arg, &reply) + wanted := "handler2-" + strconv.Itoa(arg) + if reply != wanted { + t.Fatalf("wrong reply %v from Handler1, expecting %v", reply, wanted) + } + n += 1 + } + }(ii) + } + + total := 0 + for ii := 0; ii < nclients; ii++ { + x := <-ch + total += x + } + + if total != nclients*nrpcs { + t.Fatalf("wrong number of RPCs completed, got %v, expected %v", total, nclients*nrpcs) + } + + n := rn.GetCount(1000) + if n != total { + t.Fatalf("wrong GetCount() %v, expected %v\n", n, total) + } +} + +// +// test unreliable +// +func TestUnreliable(t *testing.T) { + runtime.GOMAXPROCS(4) + + rn := MakeNetwork() + defer rn.Cleanup() + rn.Reliable(false) + + js := &JunkServer{} + svc := MakeService(js) + + rs := MakeServer() + rs.AddService(svc) + rn.AddServer(1000, rs) + + ch := make(chan int) + + nclients := 300 + for ii := 0; ii < nclients; ii++ { + go func(i int) { + n := 0 + defer func() { ch <- n }() + + e := rn.MakeEnd(i) + rn.Connect(i, 1000) + rn.Enable(i, true) + + arg := i * 100 + reply := "" + ok := e.Call("JunkServer.Handler2", arg, &reply) + if ok { + wanted := "handler2-" + strconv.Itoa(arg) + if reply != wanted { + t.Fatalf("wrong reply %v from Handler1, expecting %v", reply, wanted) + } + n += 1 + } + }(ii) + } + + total := 0 + for ii := 0; ii < nclients; ii++ { + x := <-ch + total += x + } + + if total == nclients || total == 0 { + t.Fatalf("all RPCs succeeded despite unreliable") + } +} + +// +// test concurrent RPCs from a single ClientEnd +// +func TestConcurrentOne(t *testing.T) { + runtime.GOMAXPROCS(4) + + rn := MakeNetwork() + defer rn.Cleanup() + + js := &JunkServer{} + svc := MakeService(js) + + rs := MakeServer() + rs.AddService(svc) + rn.AddServer(1000, rs) + + e := rn.MakeEnd("c") + rn.Connect("c", 1000) + rn.Enable("c", true) + + ch := make(chan int) + + nrpcs := 20 + for ii := 0; ii < nrpcs; ii++ { + go func(i int) { + n := 0 + defer func() { ch <- n }() + + arg := 100 + i + reply := "" + e.Call("JunkServer.Handler2", arg, &reply) + wanted := "handler2-" + strconv.Itoa(arg) + if reply != wanted { + t.Fatalf("wrong reply %v from Handler2, expecting %v", reply, wanted) + } + n += 1 + }(ii) + } + + total := 0 + for ii := 0; ii < nrpcs; ii++ { + x := <-ch + total += x + } + + if total != nrpcs { + t.Fatalf("wrong number of RPCs completed, got %v, expected %v", total, nrpcs) + } + + js.mu.Lock() + defer js.mu.Unlock() + if len(js.log2) != nrpcs { + t.Fatalf("wrong number of RPCs delivered") + } + + n := rn.GetCount(1000) + if n != total { + t.Fatalf("wrong GetCount() %v, expected %v\n", n, total) + } +} + +// +// regression: an RPC that's delayed during Enabled=false +// should not delay subsequent RPCs (e.g. after Enabled=true). +// +func TestRegression1(t *testing.T) { + runtime.GOMAXPROCS(4) + + rn := MakeNetwork() + defer rn.Cleanup() + + js := &JunkServer{} + svc := MakeService(js) + + rs := MakeServer() + rs.AddService(svc) + rn.AddServer(1000, rs) + + e := rn.MakeEnd("c") + rn.Connect("c", 1000) + + // start some RPCs while the ClientEnd is disabled. + // they'll be delayed. + rn.Enable("c", false) + ch := make(chan bool) + nrpcs := 20 + for ii := 0; ii < nrpcs; ii++ { + go func(i int) { + ok := false + defer func() { ch <- ok }() + + arg := 100 + i + reply := "" + // this call ought to return false. + e.Call("JunkServer.Handler2", arg, &reply) + ok = true + }(ii) + } + + time.Sleep(100 * time.Millisecond) + + // now enable the ClientEnd and check that an RPC completes quickly. + t0 := time.Now() + rn.Enable("c", true) + { + arg := 99 + reply := "" + e.Call("JunkServer.Handler2", arg, &reply) + wanted := "handler2-" + strconv.Itoa(arg) + if reply != wanted { + t.Fatalf("wrong reply %v from Handler2, expecting %v", reply, wanted) + } + } + dur := time.Since(t0).Seconds() + + if dur > 0.03 { + t.Fatalf("RPC took too long (%v) after Enable", dur) + } + + for ii := 0; ii < nrpcs; ii++ { + <-ch + } + + js.mu.Lock() + defer js.mu.Unlock() + if len(js.log2) != 1 { + t.Fatalf("wrong number (%v) of RPCs delivered, expected 1", len(js.log2)) + } + + n := rn.GetCount(1000) + if n != 1 { + t.Fatalf("wrong GetCount() %v, expected %v\n", n, 1) + } +} + +// +// if an RPC is stuck in a server, and the server +// is killed with DeleteServer(), does the RPC +// get un-stuck? +// +func TestKilled(t *testing.T) { + runtime.GOMAXPROCS(4) + + rn := MakeNetwork() + defer rn.Cleanup() + + e := rn.MakeEnd("end1-99") + + js := &JunkServer{} + svc := MakeService(js) + + rs := MakeServer() + rs.AddService(svc) + rn.AddServer("server99", rs) + + rn.Connect("end1-99", "server99") + rn.Enable("end1-99", true) + + doneCh := make(chan bool) + go func() { + reply := 0 + ok := e.Call("JunkServer.Handler3", 99, &reply) + doneCh <- ok + }() + + time.Sleep(1000 * time.Millisecond) + + select { + case <-doneCh: + t.Fatalf("Handler3 should not have returned yet") + case <-time.After(100 * time.Millisecond): + } + + rn.DeleteServer("server99") + + select { + case x := <-doneCh: + if x != false { + t.Fatalf("Handler3 returned successfully despite DeleteServer()") + } + case <-time.After(100 * time.Millisecond): + t.Fatalf("Handler3 should return after DeleteServer()") + } +} + +func TestBenchmark(t *testing.T) { + runtime.GOMAXPROCS(4) + + rn := MakeNetwork() + defer rn.Cleanup() + + e := rn.MakeEnd("end1-99") + + js := &JunkServer{} + svc := MakeService(js) + + rs := MakeServer() + rs.AddService(svc) + rn.AddServer("server99", rs) + + rn.Connect("end1-99", "server99") + rn.Enable("end1-99", true) + + t0 := time.Now() + n := 100000 + for iters := 0; iters < n; iters++ { + reply := "" + e.Call("JunkServer.Handler2", 111, &reply) + if reply != "handler2-111" { + t.Fatalf("wrong reply from Handler2") + } + } + fmt.Printf("%v for %v\n", time.Since(t0), n) + // march 2016, rtm laptop, 22 microseconds per RPC +} diff --git a/src/main/diskvd.go b/src/main/diskvd.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..606f88c --- /dev/null +++ b/src/main/diskvd.go @@ -0,0 +1,74 @@ +package main + +// +// start a diskvd server. it's a member of some replica +// group, which has other members, and it needs to know +// how to talk to the members of the shardmaster service. +// used by ../diskv/test_test.go +// +// arguments: +// -g groupid +// -m masterport1 -m masterport2 ... +// -s replicaport1 -s replicaport2 ... +// -i my-index-in-server-port-list +// -u unreliable +// -d directory +// -r restart + +import "time" +import "6.5840/diskv" +import "os" +import "fmt" +import "strconv" +import "runtime" + +func usage() { + fmt.Printf("Usage: diskvd -g gid -m master... -s server... -i my-index -d dir\n") + os.Exit(1) +} + +func main() { + var gid int64 = -1 // my replica group ID + masters := []string{} // ports of shardmasters + replicas := []string{} // ports of servers in my replica group + me := -1 // my index in replicas[] + unreliable := false + dir := "" // store persistent data here + restart := false + + for i := 1; i+1 < len(os.Args); i += 2 { + a0 := os.Args[i] + a1 := os.Args[i+1] + if a0 == "-g" { + gid, _ = strconv.ParseInt(a1, 10, 64) + } else if a0 == "-m" { + masters = append(masters, a1) + } else if a0 == "-s" { + replicas = append(replicas, a1) + } else if a0 == "-i" { + me, _ = strconv.Atoi(a1) + } else if a0 == "-u" { + unreliable, _ = strconv.ParseBool(a1) + } else if a0 == "-d" { + dir = a1 + } else if a0 == "-r" { + restart, _ = strconv.ParseBool(a1) + } else { + usage() + } + } + + if gid < 0 || me < 0 || len(masters) < 1 || me >= len(replicas) || dir == "" { + usage() + } + + runtime.GOMAXPROCS(4) + + srv := diskv.StartServer(gid, masters, replicas, me, dir, restart) + srv.Setunreliable(unreliable) + + // for safety, force quit after 10 minutes. + time.Sleep(10 * 60 * time.Second) + mep, _ := os.FindProcess(os.Getpid()) + mep.Kill() +} diff --git a/src/main/lockc.go b/src/main/lockc.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b69c9e5 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/main/lockc.go @@ -0,0 +1,31 @@ +package main + +// +// see comments in lockd.go +// + +import "6.5840/lockservice" +import "os" +import "fmt" + +func usage() { + fmt.Printf("Usage: lockc -l|-u primaryport backupport lockname\n") + os.Exit(1) +} + +func main() { + if len(os.Args) == 5 { + ck := lockservice.MakeClerk(os.Args[2], os.Args[3]) + var ok bool + if os.Args[1] == "-l" { + ok = ck.Lock(os.Args[4]) + } else if os.Args[1] == "-u" { + ok = ck.Unlock(os.Args[4]) + } else { + usage() + } + fmt.Printf("reply: %v\n", ok) + } else { + usage() + } +} diff --git a/src/main/lockd.go b/src/main/lockd.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bdae2bf --- /dev/null +++ b/src/main/lockd.go @@ -0,0 +1,31 @@ +package main + +// export GOPATH=~/6.5840 +// go build lockd.go +// go build lockc.go +// ./lockd -p a b & +// ./lockd -b a b & +// ./lockc -l a b lx +// ./lockc -u a b lx +// +// on Athena, use /tmp/myname-a and /tmp/myname-b +// instead of a and b. + +import "time" +import "6.5840/lockservice" +import "os" +import "fmt" + +func main() { + if len(os.Args) == 4 && os.Args[1] == "-p" { + lockservice.StartServer(os.Args[2], os.Args[3], true) + } else if len(os.Args) == 4 && os.Args[1] == "-b" { + lockservice.StartServer(os.Args[2], os.Args[3], false) + } else { + fmt.Printf("Usage: lockd -p|-b primaryport backupport\n") + os.Exit(1) + } + for { + time.Sleep(100 * time.Second) + } +} diff --git a/src/main/mrcoordinator.go b/src/main/mrcoordinator.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..be0a0fd --- /dev/null +++ b/src/main/mrcoordinator.go @@ -0,0 +1,29 @@ +package main + +// +// start the coordinator process, which is implemented +// in ../mr/coordinator.go +// +// go run mrcoordinator.go pg*.txt +// +// Please do not change this file. +// + +import "6.5840/mr" +import "time" +import "os" +import "fmt" + +func main() { + if len(os.Args) < 2 { + fmt.Fprintf(os.Stderr, "Usage: mrcoordinator inputfiles...\n") + os.Exit(1) + } + + m := mr.MakeCoordinator(os.Args[1:], 10) + for m.Done() == false { + time.Sleep(time.Second) + } + + time.Sleep(time.Second) +} diff --git a/src/main/mrsequential.go b/src/main/mrsequential.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..38de498 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/main/mrsequential.go @@ -0,0 +1,108 @@ +package main + +// +// simple sequential MapReduce. +// +// go run mrsequential.go wc.so pg*.txt +// + +import "fmt" +import "6.5840/mr" +import "plugin" +import "os" +import "log" +import "io/ioutil" +import "sort" + +// for sorting by key. +type ByKey []mr.KeyValue + +// for sorting by key. +func (a ByKey) Len() int { return len(a) } +func (a ByKey) Swap(i, j int) { a[i], a[j] = a[j], a[i] } +func (a ByKey) Less(i, j int) bool { return a[i].Key < a[j].Key } + +func main() { + if len(os.Args) < 3 { + fmt.Fprintf(os.Stderr, "Usage: mrsequential xxx.so inputfiles...\n") + os.Exit(1) + } + + mapf, reducef := loadPlugin(os.Args[1]) + + // + // read each input file, + // pass it to Map, + // accumulate the intermediate Map output. + // + intermediate := []mr.KeyValue{} + for _, filename := range os.Args[2:] { + file, err := os.Open(filename) + if err != nil { + log.Fatalf("cannot open %v", filename) + } + content, err := ioutil.ReadAll(file) + if err != nil { + log.Fatalf("cannot read %v", filename) + } + file.Close() + kva := mapf(filename, string(content)) + intermediate = append(intermediate, kva...) + } + + // + // a big difference from real MapReduce is that all the + // intermediate data is in one place, intermediate[], + // rather than being partitioned into NxM buckets. + // + + sort.Sort(ByKey(intermediate)) + + oname := "mr-out-0" + ofile, _ := os.Create(oname) + + // + // call Reduce on each distinct key in intermediate[], + // and print the result to mr-out-0. + // + i := 0 + for i < len(intermediate) { + j := i + 1 + for j < len(intermediate) && intermediate[j].Key == intermediate[i].Key { + j++ + } + values := []string{} + for k := i; k < j; k++ { + values = append(values, intermediate[k].Value) + } + output := reducef(intermediate[i].Key, values) + + // this is the correct format for each line of Reduce output. + fmt.Fprintf(ofile, "%v %v\n", intermediate[i].Key, output) + + i = j + } + + ofile.Close() +} + +// load the application Map and Reduce functions +// from a plugin file, e.g. ../mrapps/wc.so +func loadPlugin(filename string) (func(string, string) []mr.KeyValue, func(string, []string) string) { + p, err := plugin.Open(filename) + if err != nil { + log.Fatalf("cannot load plugin %v", filename) + } + xmapf, err := p.Lookup("Map") + if err != nil { + log.Fatalf("cannot find Map in %v", filename) + } + mapf := xmapf.(func(string, string) []mr.KeyValue) + xreducef, err := p.Lookup("Reduce") + if err != nil { + log.Fatalf("cannot find Reduce in %v", filename) + } + reducef := xreducef.(func(string, []string) string) + + return mapf, reducef +} diff --git a/src/main/mrworker.go b/src/main/mrworker.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3e43139 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/main/mrworker.go @@ -0,0 +1,49 @@ +package main + +// +// start a worker process, which is implemented +// in ../mr/worker.go. typically there will be +// multiple worker processes, talking to one coordinator. +// +// go run mrworker.go wc.so +// +// Please do not change this file. +// + +import "6.5840/mr" +import "plugin" +import "os" +import "fmt" +import "log" + +func main() { + if len(os.Args) != 2 { + fmt.Fprintf(os.Stderr, "Usage: mrworker xxx.so\n") + os.Exit(1) + } + + mapf, reducef := loadPlugin(os.Args[1]) + + mr.Worker(mapf, reducef) +} + +// load the application Map and Reduce functions +// from a plugin file, e.g. ../mrapps/wc.so +func loadPlugin(filename string) (func(string, string) []mr.KeyValue, func(string, []string) string) { + p, err := plugin.Open(filename) + if err != nil { + log.Fatalf("cannot load plugin %v", filename) + } + xmapf, err := p.Lookup("Map") + if err != nil { + log.Fatalf("cannot find Map in %v", filename) + } + mapf := xmapf.(func(string, string) []mr.KeyValue) + xreducef, err := p.Lookup("Reduce") + if err != nil { + log.Fatalf("cannot find Reduce in %v", filename) + } + reducef := xreducef.(func(string, []string) string) + + return mapf, reducef +} diff --git a/src/main/pbc.go b/src/main/pbc.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..791b4fe --- /dev/null +++ b/src/main/pbc.go @@ -0,0 +1,44 @@ +package main + +// +// pbservice client application +// +// export GOPATH=~/6.5840 +// go build viewd.go +// go build pbd.go +// go build pbc.go +// ./viewd /tmp/rtm-v & +// ./pbd /tmp/rtm-v /tmp/rtm-1 & +// ./pbd /tmp/rtm-v /tmp/rtm-2 & +// ./pbc /tmp/rtm-v key1 value1 +// ./pbc /tmp/rtm-v key1 +// +// change "rtm" to your user name. +// start the pbd programs in separate windows and kill +// and restart them to exercise fault tolerance. +// + +import "6.5840/pbservice" +import "os" +import "fmt" + +func usage() { + fmt.Printf("Usage: pbc viewport key\n") + fmt.Printf(" pbc viewport key value\n") + os.Exit(1) +} + +func main() { + if len(os.Args) == 3 { + // get + ck := pbservice.MakeClerk(os.Args[1], "") + v := ck.Get(os.Args[2]) + fmt.Printf("%v\n", v) + } else if len(os.Args) == 4 { + // put + ck := pbservice.MakeClerk(os.Args[1], "") + ck.Put(os.Args[2], os.Args[3]) + } else { + usage() + } +} diff --git a/src/main/pbd.go b/src/main/pbd.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6d54e00 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/main/pbd.go @@ -0,0 +1,23 @@ +package main + +// +// see directions in pbc.go +// + +import "time" +import "6.5840/pbservice" +import "os" +import "fmt" + +func main() { + if len(os.Args) != 3 { + fmt.Printf("Usage: pbd viewport myport\n") + os.Exit(1) + } + + pbservice.StartServer(os.Args[1], os.Args[2]) + + for { + time.Sleep(100 * time.Second) + } +} diff --git a/src/main/pg-being_ernest.txt b/src/main/pg-being_ernest.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..da6dffb --- /dev/null +++ b/src/main/pg-being_ernest.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3495 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Importance of Being Earnest, by Oscar +Wilde + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Importance of Being Earnest + A Trivial Comedy for Serious People + + +Author: Oscar Wilde + + + +Release Date: August 29, 2006 [eBook #844] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST*** + + + + + + +Transcribed from the 1915 Methuen & Co. Ltd. edition by David Price, +email ccx074@pglaf.org + + + + + +The Importance of Being Earnest +A Trivial Comedy for Serious People + + +THE PERSONS IN THE PLAY + + +John Worthing, J.P. +Algernon Moncrieff +Rev. Canon Chasuble, D.D. +Merriman, Butler +Lane, Manservant +Lady Bracknell +Hon. Gwendolen Fairfax +Cecily Cardew +Miss Prism, Governess + + + + +THE SCENES OF THE PLAY + + +ACT I. Algernon Moncrieff's Flat in Half-Moon Street, W. + +ACT II. The Garden at the Manor House, Woolton. + +ACT III. Drawing-Room at the Manor House, Woolton. + +TIME: The Present. + + + + +LONDON: ST. JAMES'S THEATRE + + +Lessee and Manager: Mr. George Alexander + +February 14th, 1895 + +* * * * * + +John Worthing, J.P.: Mr. George Alexander. +Algernon Moncrieff: Mr. Allen Aynesworth. +Rev. Canon Chasuble, D.D.: Mr. H. H. Vincent. +Merriman: Mr. Frank Dyall. +Lane: Mr. F. Kinsey Peile. +Lady Bracknell: Miss Rose Leclercq. +Hon. Gwendolen Fairfax: Miss Irene Vanbrugh. +Cecily Cardew: Miss Evelyn Millard. +Miss Prism: Mrs. George Canninge. + + + + +FIRST ACT + + +SCENE + + +Morning-room in Algernon's flat in Half-Moon Street. The room is +luxuriously and artistically furnished. The sound of a piano is heard in +the adjoining room. + +[Lane is arranging afternoon tea on the table, and after the music has +ceased, Algernon enters.] + +Algernon. Did you hear what I was playing, Lane? + +Lane. I didn't think it polite to listen, sir. + +Algernon. I'm sorry for that, for your sake. I don't play +accurately--any one can play accurately--but I play with wonderful +expression. As far as the piano is concerned, sentiment is my forte. I +keep science for Life. + +Lane. Yes, sir. + +Algernon. And, speaking of the science of Life, have you got the +cucumber sandwiches cut for Lady Bracknell? + +Lane. Yes, sir. [Hands them on a salver.] + +Algernon. [Inspects them, takes two, and sits down on the sofa.] Oh! . . . +by the way, Lane, I see from your book that on Thursday night, when +Lord Shoreman and Mr. Worthing were dining with me, eight bottles of +champagne are entered as having been consumed. + +Lane. Yes, sir; eight bottles and a pint. + +Algernon. Why is it that at a bachelor's establishment the servants +invariably drink the champagne? I ask merely for information. + +Lane. I attribute it to the superior quality of the wine, sir. I have +often observed that in married households the champagne is rarely of a +first-rate brand. + +Algernon. Good heavens! Is marriage so demoralising as that? + +Lane. I believe it _is_ a very pleasant state, sir. I have had very +little experience of it myself up to the present. I have only been +married once. That was in consequence of a misunderstanding between +myself and a young person. + +Algernon. [Languidly_._] I don't know that I am much interested in your +family life, Lane. + +Lane. No, sir; it is not a very interesting subject. I never think of +it myself. + +Algernon. Very natural, I am sure. That will do, Lane, thank you. + +Lane. Thank you, sir. [Lane goes out.] + +Algernon. Lane's views on marriage seem somewhat lax. Really, if the +lower orders don't set us a good example, what on earth is the use of +them? They seem, as a class, to have absolutely no sense of moral +responsibility. + +[Enter Lane.] + +Lane. Mr. Ernest Worthing. + +[Enter Jack.] + +[Lane goes out_._] + +Algernon. How are you, my dear Ernest? What brings you up to town? + +Jack. Oh, pleasure, pleasure! What else should bring one anywhere? +Eating as usual, I see, Algy! + +Algernon. [Stiffly_._] I believe it is customary in good society to +take some slight refreshment at five o'clock. Where have you been since +last Thursday? + +Jack. [Sitting down on the sofa.] In the country. + +Algernon. What on earth do you do there? + +Jack. [Pulling off his gloves_._] When one is in town one amuses +oneself. When one is in the country one amuses other people. It is +excessively boring. + +Algernon. And who are the people you amuse? + +Jack. [Airily_._] Oh, neighbours, neighbours. + +Algernon. Got nice neighbours in your part of Shropshire? + +Jack. Perfectly horrid! Never speak to one of them. + +Algernon. How immensely you must amuse them! [Goes over and takes +sandwich.] By the way, Shropshire is your county, is it not? + +Jack. Eh? Shropshire? Yes, of course. Hallo! Why all these cups? Why +cucumber sandwiches? Why such reckless extravagance in one so young? Who +is coming to tea? + +Algernon. Oh! merely Aunt Augusta and Gwendolen. + +Jack. How perfectly delightful! + +Algernon. Yes, that is all very well; but I am afraid Aunt Augusta won't +quite approve of your being here. + +Jack. May I ask why? + +Algernon. My dear fellow, the way you flirt with Gwendolen is perfectly +disgraceful. It is almost as bad as the way Gwendolen flirts with you. + +Jack. I am in love with Gwendolen. I have come up to town expressly to +propose to her. + +Algernon. I thought you had come up for pleasure? . . . I call that +business. + +Jack. How utterly unromantic you are! + +Algernon. I really don't see anything romantic in proposing. It is very +romantic to be in love. But there is nothing romantic about a definite +proposal. Why, one may be accepted. One usually is, I believe. Then +the excitement is all over. The very essence of romance is uncertainty. +If ever I get married, I'll certainly try to forget the fact. + +Jack. I have no doubt about that, dear Algy. The Divorce Court was +specially invented for people whose memories are so curiously +constituted. + +Algernon. Oh! there is no use speculating on that subject. Divorces are +made in Heaven--[Jack puts out his hand to take a sandwich. Algernon at +once interferes.] Please don't touch the cucumber sandwiches. They are +ordered specially for Aunt Augusta. [Takes one and eats it.] + +Jack. Well, you have been eating them all the time. + +Algernon. That is quite a different matter. She is my aunt. [Takes +plate from below.] Have some bread and butter. The bread and butter is +for Gwendolen. Gwendolen is devoted to bread and butter. + +Jack. [Advancing to table and helping himself.] And very good bread and +butter it is too. + +Algernon. Well, my dear fellow, you need not eat as if you were going to +eat it all. You behave as if you were married to her already. You are +not married to her already, and I don't think you ever will be. + +Jack. Why on earth do you say that? + +Algernon. Well, in the first place girls never marry the men they flirt +with. Girls don't think it right. + +Jack. Oh, that is nonsense! + +Algernon. It isn't. It is a great truth. It accounts for the +extraordinary number of bachelors that one sees all over the place. In +the second place, I don't give my consent. + +Jack. Your consent! + +Algernon. My dear fellow, Gwendolen is my first cousin. And before I +allow you to marry her, you will have to clear up the whole question of +Cecily. [Rings bell.] + +Jack. Cecily! What on earth do you mean? What do you mean, Algy, by +Cecily! I don't know any one of the name of Cecily. + +[Enter Lane.] + +Algernon. Bring me that cigarette case Mr. Worthing left in the smoking- +room the last time he dined here. + +Lane. Yes, sir. [Lane goes out.] + +Jack. Do you mean to say you have had my cigarette case all this time? I +wish to goodness you had let me know. I have been writing frantic +letters to Scotland Yard about it. I was very nearly offering a large +reward. + +Algernon. Well, I wish you would offer one. I happen to be more than +usually hard up. + +Jack. There is no good offering a large reward now that the thing is +found. + +[Enter Lane with the cigarette case on a salver. Algernon takes it at +once. Lane goes out.] + +Algernon. I think that is rather mean of you, Ernest, I must say. [Opens +case and examines it.] However, it makes no matter, for, now that I look +at the inscription inside, I find that the thing isn't yours after all. + +Jack. Of course it's mine. [Moving to him.] You have seen me with it a +hundred times, and you have no right whatsoever to read what is written +inside. It is a very ungentlemanly thing to read a private cigarette +case. + +Algernon. Oh! it is absurd to have a hard and fast rule about what one +should read and what one shouldn't. More than half of modern culture +depends on what one shouldn't read. + +Jack. I am quite aware of the fact, and I don't propose to discuss +modern culture. It isn't the sort of thing one should talk of in +private. I simply want my cigarette case back. + +Algernon. Yes; but this isn't your cigarette case. This cigarette case +is a present from some one of the name of Cecily, and you said you didn't +know any one of that name. + +Jack. Well, if you want to know, Cecily happens to be my aunt. + +Algernon. Your aunt! + +Jack. Yes. Charming old lady she is, too. Lives at Tunbridge Wells. +Just give it back to me, Algy. + +Algernon. [Retreating to back of sofa.] But why does she call herself +little Cecily if she is your aunt and lives at Tunbridge Wells? +[Reading.] 'From little Cecily with her fondest love.' + +Jack. [Moving to sofa and kneeling upon it.] My dear fellow, what on +earth is there in that? Some aunts are tall, some aunts are not tall. +That is a matter that surely an aunt may be allowed to decide for +herself. You seem to think that every aunt should be exactly like your +aunt! That is absurd! For Heaven's sake give me back my cigarette case. +[Follows Algernon round the room.] + +Algernon. Yes. But why does your aunt call you her uncle? 'From little +Cecily, with her fondest love to her dear Uncle Jack.' There is no +objection, I admit, to an aunt being a small aunt, but why an aunt, no +matter what her size may be, should call her own nephew her uncle, I +can't quite make out. Besides, your name isn't Jack at all; it is +Ernest. + +Jack. It isn't Ernest; it's Jack. + +Algernon. You have always told me it was Ernest. I have introduced you +to every one as Ernest. You answer to the name of Ernest. You look as +if your name was Ernest. You are the most earnest-looking person I ever +saw in my life. It is perfectly absurd your saying that your name isn't +Ernest. It's on your cards. Here is one of them. [Taking it from +case.] 'Mr. Ernest Worthing, B. 4, The Albany.' I'll keep this as a +proof that your name is Ernest if ever you attempt to deny it to me, or +to Gwendolen, or to any one else. [Puts the card in his pocket.] + +Jack. Well, my name is Ernest in town and Jack in the country, and the +cigarette case was given to me in the country. + +Algernon. Yes, but that does not account for the fact that your small +Aunt Cecily, who lives at Tunbridge Wells, calls you her dear uncle. +Come, old boy, you had much better have the thing out at once. + +Jack. My dear Algy, you talk exactly as if you were a dentist. It is +very vulgar to talk like a dentist when one isn't a dentist. It produces +a false impression. + +Algernon. Well, that is exactly what dentists always do. Now, go on! +Tell me the whole thing. I may mention that I have always suspected you +of being a confirmed and secret Bunburyist; and I am quite sure of it +now. + +Jack. Bunburyist? What on earth do you mean by a Bunburyist? + +Algernon. I'll reveal to you the meaning of that incomparable expression +as soon as you are kind enough to inform me why you are Ernest in town +and Jack in the country. + +Jack. Well, produce my cigarette case first. + +Algernon. Here it is. [Hands cigarette case.] Now produce your +explanation, and pray make it improbable. [Sits on sofa.] + +Jack. My dear fellow, there is nothing improbable about my explanation +at all. In fact it's perfectly ordinary. Old Mr. Thomas Cardew, who +adopted me when I was a little boy, made me in his will guardian to his +grand-daughter, Miss Cecily Cardew. Cecily, who addresses me as her +uncle from motives of respect that you could not possibly appreciate, +lives at my place in the country under the charge of her admirable +governess, Miss Prism. + +Algernon. Where is that place in the country, by the way? + +Jack. That is nothing to you, dear boy. You are not going to be invited +. . . I may tell you candidly that the place is not in Shropshire. + +Algernon. I suspected that, my dear fellow! I have Bunburyed all over +Shropshire on two separate occasions. Now, go on. Why are you Ernest in +town and Jack in the country? + +Jack. My dear Algy, I don't know whether you will be able to understand +my real motives. You are hardly serious enough. When one is placed in +the position of guardian, one has to adopt a very high moral tone on all +subjects. It's one's duty to do so. And as a high moral tone can hardly +be said to conduce very much to either one's health or one's happiness, +in order to get up to town I have always pretended to have a younger +brother of the name of Ernest, who lives in the Albany, and gets into the +most dreadful scrapes. That, my dear Algy, is the whole truth pure and +simple. + +Algernon. The truth is rarely pure and never simple. Modern life would +be very tedious if it were either, and modern literature a complete +impossibility! + +Jack. That wouldn't be at all a bad thing. + +Algernon. Literary criticism is not your forte, my dear fellow. Don't +try it. You should leave that to people who haven't been at a +University. They do it so well in the daily papers. What you really are +is a Bunburyist. I was quite right in saying you were a Bunburyist. You +are one of the most advanced Bunburyists I know. + +Jack. What on earth do you mean? + +Algernon. You have invented a very useful younger brother called Ernest, +in order that you may be able to come up to town as often as you like. I +have invented an invaluable permanent invalid called Bunbury, in order +that I may be able to go down into the country whenever I choose. Bunbury +is perfectly invaluable. If it wasn't for Bunbury's extraordinary bad +health, for instance, I wouldn't be able to dine with you at Willis's to- +night, for I have been really engaged to Aunt Augusta for more than a +week. + +Jack. I haven't asked you to dine with me anywhere to-night. + +Algernon. I know. You are absurdly careless about sending out +invitations. It is very foolish of you. Nothing annoys people so much +as not receiving invitations. + +Jack. You had much better dine with your Aunt Augusta. + +Algernon. I haven't the smallest intention of doing anything of the +kind. To begin with, I dined there on Monday, and once a week is quite +enough to dine with one's own relations. In the second place, whenever I +do dine there I am always treated as a member of the family, and sent +down with either no woman at all, or two. In the third place, I know +perfectly well whom she will place me next to, to-night. She will place +me next Mary Farquhar, who always flirts with her own husband across the +dinner-table. That is not very pleasant. Indeed, it is not even decent +. . . and that sort of thing is enormously on the increase. The amount +of women in London who flirt with their own husbands is perfectly +scandalous. It looks so bad. It is simply washing one's clean linen in +public. Besides, now that I know you to be a confirmed Bunburyist I +naturally want to talk to you about Bunburying. I want to tell you the +rules. + +Jack. I'm not a Bunburyist at all. If Gwendolen accepts me, I am going +to kill my brother, indeed I think I'll kill him in any case. Cecily is +a little too much interested in him. It is rather a bore. So I am going +to get rid of Ernest. And I strongly advise you to do the same with Mr. +. . . with your invalid friend who has the absurd name. + +Algernon. Nothing will induce me to part with Bunbury, and if you ever +get married, which seems to me extremely problematic, you will be very +glad to know Bunbury. A man who marries without knowing Bunbury has a +very tedious time of it. + +Jack. That is nonsense. If I marry a charming girl like Gwendolen, and +she is the only girl I ever saw in my life that I would marry, I +certainly won't want to know Bunbury. + +Algernon. Then your wife will. You don't seem to realise, that in +married life three is company and two is none. + +Jack. [Sententiously.] That, my dear young friend, is the theory that +the corrupt French Drama has been propounding for the last fifty years. + +Algernon. Yes; and that the happy English home has proved in half the +time. + +Jack. For heaven's sake, don't try to be cynical. It's perfectly easy +to be cynical. + +Algernon. My dear fellow, it isn't easy to be anything nowadays. There's +such a lot of beastly competition about. [The sound of an electric bell +is heard.] Ah! that must be Aunt Augusta. Only relatives, or creditors, +ever ring in that Wagnerian manner. Now, if I get her out of the way for +ten minutes, so that you can have an opportunity for proposing to +Gwendolen, may I dine with you to-night at Willis's? + +Jack. I suppose so, if you want to. + +Algernon. Yes, but you must be serious about it. I hate people who are +not serious about meals. It is so shallow of them. + +[Enter Lane.] + +Lane. Lady Bracknell and Miss Fairfax. + +[Algernon goes forward to meet them. Enter Lady Bracknell and +Gwendolen.] + +Lady Bracknell. Good afternoon, dear Algernon, I hope you are behaving +very well. + +Algernon. I'm feeling very well, Aunt Augusta. + +Lady Bracknell. That's not quite the same thing. In fact the two things +rarely go together. [Sees Jack and bows to him with icy coldness.] + +Algernon. [To Gwendolen.] Dear me, you are smart! + +Gwendolen. I am always smart! Am I not, Mr. Worthing? + +Jack. You're quite perfect, Miss Fairfax. + +Gwendolen. Oh! I hope I am not that. It would leave no room for +developments, and I intend to develop in many directions. [Gwendolen and +Jack sit down together in the corner.] + +Lady Bracknell. I'm sorry if we are a little late, Algernon, but I was +obliged to call on dear Lady Harbury. I hadn't been there since her poor +husband's death. I never saw a woman so altered; she looks quite twenty +years younger. And now I'll have a cup of tea, and one of those nice +cucumber sandwiches you promised me. + +Algernon. Certainly, Aunt Augusta. [Goes over to tea-table.] + +Lady Bracknell. Won't you come and sit here, Gwendolen? + +Gwendolen. Thanks, mamma, I'm quite comfortable where I am. + +Algernon. [Picking up empty plate in horror.] Good heavens! Lane! Why +are there no cucumber sandwiches? I ordered them specially. + +Lane. [Gravely.] There were no cucumbers in the market this morning, +sir. I went down twice. + +Algernon. No cucumbers! + +Lane. No, sir. Not even for ready money. + +Algernon. That will do, Lane, thank you. + +Lane. Thank you, sir. [Goes out.] + +Algernon. I am greatly distressed, Aunt Augusta, about there being no +cucumbers, not even for ready money. + +Lady Bracknell. It really makes no matter, Algernon. I had some +crumpets with Lady Harbury, who seems to me to be living entirely for +pleasure now. + +Algernon. I hear her hair has turned quite gold from grief. + +Lady Bracknell. It certainly has changed its colour. From what cause I, +of course, cannot say. [Algernon crosses and hands tea.] Thank you. +I've quite a treat for you to-night, Algernon. I am going to send you +down with Mary Farquhar. She is such a nice woman, and so attentive to +her husband. It's delightful to watch them. + +Algernon. I am afraid, Aunt Augusta, I shall have to give up the +pleasure of dining with you to-night after all. + +Lady Bracknell. [Frowning.] I hope not, Algernon. It would put my +table completely out. Your uncle would have to dine upstairs. +Fortunately he is accustomed to that. + +Algernon. It is a great bore, and, I need hardly say, a terrible +disappointment to me, but the fact is I have just had a telegram to say +that my poor friend Bunbury is very ill again. [Exchanges glances with +Jack.] They seem to think I should be with him. + +Lady Bracknell. It is very strange. This Mr. Bunbury seems to suffer +from curiously bad health. + +Algernon. Yes; poor Bunbury is a dreadful invalid. + +Lady Bracknell. Well, I must say, Algernon, that I think it is high time +that Mr. Bunbury made up his mind whether he was going to live or to die. +This shilly-shallying with the question is absurd. Nor do I in any way +approve of the modern sympathy with invalids. I consider it morbid. +Illness of any kind is hardly a thing to be encouraged in others. Health +is the primary duty of life. I am always telling that to your poor +uncle, but he never seems to take much notice . . . as far as any +improvement in his ailment goes. I should be much obliged if you would +ask Mr. Bunbury, from me, to be kind enough not to have a relapse on +Saturday, for I rely on you to arrange my music for me. It is my last +reception, and one wants something that will encourage conversation, +particularly at the end of the season when every one has practically said +whatever they had to say, which, in most cases, was probably not much. + +Algernon. I'll speak to Bunbury, Aunt Augusta, if he is still conscious, +and I think I can promise you he'll be all right by Saturday. Of course +the music is a great difficulty. You see, if one plays good music, +people don't listen, and if one plays bad music people don't talk. But +I'll run over the programme I've drawn out, if you will kindly come into +the next room for a moment. + +Lady Bracknell. Thank you, Algernon. It is very thoughtful of you. +[Rising, and following Algernon.] I'm sure the programme will be +delightful, after a few expurgations. French songs I cannot possibly +allow. People always seem to think that they are improper, and either +look shocked, which is vulgar, or laugh, which is worse. But German +sounds a thoroughly respectable language, and indeed, I believe is so. +Gwendolen, you will accompany me. + +Gwendolen. Certainly, mamma. + +[Lady Bracknell and Algernon go into the music-room, Gwendolen remains +behind.] + +Jack. Charming day it has been, Miss Fairfax. + +Gwendolen. Pray don't talk to me about the weather, Mr. Worthing. +Whenever people talk to me about the weather, I always feel quite certain +that they mean something else. And that makes me so nervous. + +Jack. I do mean something else. + +Gwendolen. I thought so. In fact, I am never wrong. + +Jack. And I would like to be allowed to take advantage of Lady +Bracknell's temporary absence . . . + +Gwendolen. I would certainly advise you to do so. Mamma has a way of +coming back suddenly into a room that I have often had to speak to her +about. + +Jack. [Nervously.] Miss Fairfax, ever since I met you I have admired +you more than any girl . . . I have ever met since . . . I met you. + +Gwendolen. Yes, I am quite well aware of the fact. And I often wish +that in public, at any rate, you had been more demonstrative. For me you +have always had an irresistible fascination. Even before I met you I was +far from indifferent to you. [Jack looks at her in amazement.] We live, +as I hope you know, Mr. Worthing, in an age of ideals. The fact is +constantly mentioned in the more expensive monthly magazines, and has +reached the provincial pulpits, I am told; and my ideal has always been +to love some one of the name of Ernest. There is something in that name +that inspires absolute confidence. The moment Algernon first mentioned +to me that he had a friend called Ernest, I knew I was destined to love +you. + +Jack. You really love me, Gwendolen? + +Gwendolen. Passionately! + +Jack. Darling! You don't know how happy you've made me. + +Gwendolen. My own Ernest! + +Jack. But you don't really mean to say that you couldn't love me if my +name wasn't Ernest? + +Gwendolen. But your name is Ernest. + +Jack. Yes, I know it is. But supposing it was something else? Do you +mean to say you couldn't love me then? + +Gwendolen. [Glibly.] Ah! that is clearly a metaphysical speculation, +and like most metaphysical speculations has very little reference at all +to the actual facts of real life, as we know them. + +Jack. Personally, darling, to speak quite candidly, I don't much care +about the name of Ernest . . . I don't think the name suits me at all. + +Gwendolen. It suits you perfectly. It is a divine name. It has a music +of its own. It produces vibrations. + +Jack. Well, really, Gwendolen, I must say that I think there are lots of +other much nicer names. I think Jack, for instance, a charming name. + +Gwendolen. Jack? . . . No, there is very little music in the name Jack, +if any at all, indeed. It does not thrill. It produces absolutely no +vibrations . . . I have known several Jacks, and they all, without +exception, were more than usually plain. Besides, Jack is a notorious +domesticity for John! And I pity any woman who is married to a man +called John. She would probably never be allowed to know the entrancing +pleasure of a single moment's solitude. The only really safe name is +Ernest. + +Jack. Gwendolen, I must get christened at once--I mean we must get +married at once. There is no time to be lost. + +Gwendolen. Married, Mr. Worthing? + +Jack. [Astounded.] Well . . . surely. You know that I love you, and +you led me to believe, Miss Fairfax, that you were not absolutely +indifferent to me. + +Gwendolen. I adore you. But you haven't proposed to me yet. Nothing +has been said at all about marriage. The subject has not even been +touched on. + +Jack. Well . . . may I propose to you now? + +Gwendolen. I think it would be an admirable opportunity. And to spare +you any possible disappointment, Mr. Worthing, I think it only fair to +tell you quite frankly before-hand that I am fully determined to accept +you. + +Jack. Gwendolen! + +Gwendolen. Yes, Mr. Worthing, what have you got to say to me? + +Jack. You know what I have got to say to you. + +Gwendolen. Yes, but you don't say it. + +Jack. Gwendolen, will you marry me? [Goes on his knees.] + +Gwendolen. Of course I will, darling. How long you have been about it! +I am afraid you have had very little experience in how to propose. + +Jack. My own one, I have never loved any one in the world but you. + +Gwendolen. Yes, but men often propose for practice. I know my brother +Gerald does. All my girl-friends tell me so. What wonderfully blue eyes +you have, Ernest! They are quite, quite, blue. I hope you will always +look at me just like that, especially when there are other people +present. [Enter Lady Bracknell.] + +Lady Bracknell. Mr. Worthing! Rise, sir, from this semi-recumbent +posture. It is most indecorous. + +Gwendolen. Mamma! [He tries to rise; she restrains him.] I must beg +you to retire. This is no place for you. Besides, Mr. Worthing has not +quite finished yet. + +Lady Bracknell. Finished what, may I ask? + +Gwendolen. I am engaged to Mr. Worthing, mamma. [They rise together.] + +Lady Bracknell. Pardon me, you are not engaged to any one. When you do +become engaged to some one, I, or your father, should his health permit +him, will inform you of the fact. An engagement should come on a young +girl as a surprise, pleasant or unpleasant, as the case may be. It is +hardly a matter that she could be allowed to arrange for herself . . . +And now I have a few questions to put to you, Mr. Worthing. While I am +making these inquiries, you, Gwendolen, will wait for me below in the +carriage. + +Gwendolen. [Reproachfully.] Mamma! + +Lady Bracknell. In the carriage, Gwendolen! [Gwendolen goes to the +door. She and Jack blow kisses to each other behind Lady Bracknell's +back. Lady Bracknell looks vaguely about as if she could not understand +what the noise was. Finally turns round.] Gwendolen, the carriage! + +Gwendolen. Yes, mamma. [Goes out, looking back at Jack.] + +Lady Bracknell. [Sitting down.] You can take a seat, Mr. Worthing. + +[Looks in her pocket for note-book and pencil.] + +Jack. Thank you, Lady Bracknell, I prefer standing. + +Lady Bracknell. [Pencil and note-book in hand.] I feel bound to tell +you that you are not down on my list of eligible young men, although I +have the same list as the dear Duchess of Bolton has. We work together, +in fact. However, I am quite ready to enter your name, should your +answers be what a really affectionate mother requires. Do you smoke? + +Jack. Well, yes, I must admit I smoke. + +Lady Bracknell. I am glad to hear it. A man should always have an +occupation of some kind. There are far too many idle men in London as it +is. How old are you? + +Jack. Twenty-nine. + +Lady Bracknell. A very good age to be married at. I have always been of +opinion that a man who desires to get married should know either +everything or nothing. Which do you know? + +Jack. [After some hesitation.] I know nothing, Lady Bracknell. + +Lady Bracknell. I am pleased to hear it. I do not approve of anything +that tampers with natural ignorance. Ignorance is like a delicate exotic +fruit; touch it and the bloom is gone. The whole theory of modern +education is radically unsound. Fortunately in England, at any rate, +education produces no effect whatsoever. If it did, it would prove a +serious danger to the upper classes, and probably lead to acts of +violence in Grosvenor Square. What is your income? + +Jack. Between seven and eight thousand a year. + +Lady Bracknell. [Makes a note in her book.] In land, or in investments? + +Jack. In investments, chiefly. + +Lady Bracknell. That is satisfactory. What between the duties expected +of one during one's lifetime, and the duties exacted from one after one's +death, land has ceased to be either a profit or a pleasure. It gives one +position, and prevents one from keeping it up. That's all that can be +said about land. + +Jack. I have a country house with some land, of course, attached to it, +about fifteen hundred acres, I believe; but I don't depend on that for my +real income. In fact, as far as I can make out, the poachers are the +only people who make anything out of it. + +Lady Bracknell. A country house! How many bedrooms? Well, that point +can be cleared up afterwards. You have a town house, I hope? A girl +with a simple, unspoiled nature, like Gwendolen, could hardly be expected +to reside in the country. + +Jack. Well, I own a house in Belgrave Square, but it is let by the year +to Lady Bloxham. Of course, I can get it back whenever I like, at six +months' notice. + +Lady Bracknell. Lady Bloxham? I don't know her. + +Jack. Oh, she goes about very little. She is a lady considerably +advanced in years. + +Lady Bracknell. Ah, nowadays that is no guarantee of respectability of +character. What number in Belgrave Square? + +Jack. 149. + +Lady Bracknell. [Shaking her head.] The unfashionable side. I thought +there was something. However, that could easily be altered. + +Jack. Do you mean the fashion, or the side? + +Lady Bracknell. [Sternly.] Both, if necessary, I presume. What are +your politics? + +Jack. Well, I am afraid I really have none. I am a Liberal Unionist. + +Lady Bracknell. Oh, they count as Tories. They dine with us. Or come +in the evening, at any rate. Now to minor matters. Are your parents +living? + +Jack. I have lost both my parents. + +Lady Bracknell. To lose one parent, Mr. Worthing, may be regarded as a +misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness. Who was your father? +He was evidently a man of some wealth. Was he born in what the Radical +papers call the purple of commerce, or did he rise from the ranks of the +aristocracy? + +Jack. I am afraid I really don't know. The fact is, Lady Bracknell, I +said I had lost my parents. It would be nearer the truth to say that my +parents seem to have lost me . . . I don't actually know who I am by +birth. I was . . . well, I was found. + +Lady Bracknell. Found! + +Jack. The late Mr. Thomas Cardew, an old gentleman of a very charitable +and kindly disposition, found me, and gave me the name of Worthing, +because he happened to have a first-class ticket for Worthing in his +pocket at the time. Worthing is a place in Sussex. It is a seaside +resort. + +Lady Bracknell. Where did the charitable gentleman who had a first-class +ticket for this seaside resort find you? + +Jack. [Gravely.] In a hand-bag. + +Lady Bracknell. A hand-bag? + +Jack. [Very seriously.] Yes, Lady Bracknell. I was in a hand-bag--a +somewhat large, black leather hand-bag, with handles to it--an ordinary +hand-bag in fact. + +Lady Bracknell. In what locality did this Mr. James, or Thomas, Cardew +come across this ordinary hand-bag? + +Jack. In the cloak-room at Victoria Station. It was given to him in +mistake for his own. + +Lady Bracknell. The cloak-room at Victoria Station? + +Jack. Yes. The Brighton line. + +Lady Bracknell. The line is immaterial. Mr. Worthing, I confess I feel +somewhat bewildered by what you have just told me. To be born, or at any +rate bred, in a hand-bag, whether it had handles or not, seems to me to +display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life that reminds +one of the worst excesses of the French Revolution. And I presume you +know what that unfortunate movement led to? As for the particular +locality in which the hand-bag was found, a cloak-room at a railway +station might serve to conceal a social indiscretion--has probably, +indeed, been used for that purpose before now--but it could hardly be +regarded as an assured basis for a recognised position in good society. + +Jack. May I ask you then what you would advise me to do? I need hardly +say I would do anything in the world to ensure Gwendolen's happiness. + +Lady Bracknell. I would strongly advise you, Mr. Worthing, to try and +acquire some relations as soon as possible, and to make a definite effort +to produce at any rate one parent, of either sex, before the season is +quite over. + +Jack. Well, I don't see how I could possibly manage to do that. I can +produce the hand-bag at any moment. It is in my dressing-room at home. I +really think that should satisfy you, Lady Bracknell. + +Lady Bracknell. Me, sir! What has it to do with me? You can hardly +imagine that I and Lord Bracknell would dream of allowing our only +daughter--a girl brought up with the utmost care--to marry into a cloak- +room, and form an alliance with a parcel? Good morning, Mr. Worthing! + +[Lady Bracknell sweeps out in majestic indignation.] + +Jack. Good morning! [Algernon, from the other room, strikes up the +Wedding March. Jack looks perfectly furious, and goes to the door.] For +goodness' sake don't play that ghastly tune, Algy. How idiotic you are! + +[The music stops and Algernon enters cheerily.] + +Algernon. Didn't it go off all right, old boy? You don't mean to say +Gwendolen refused you? I know it is a way she has. She is always +refusing people. I think it is most ill-natured of her. + +Jack. Oh, Gwendolen is as right as a trivet. As far as she is +concerned, we are engaged. Her mother is perfectly unbearable. Never +met such a Gorgon . . . I don't really know what a Gorgon is like, but I +am quite sure that Lady Bracknell is one. In any case, she is a monster, +without being a myth, which is rather unfair . . . I beg your pardon, +Algy, I suppose I shouldn't talk about your own aunt in that way before +you. + +Algernon. My dear boy, I love hearing my relations abused. It is the +only thing that makes me put up with them at all. Relations are simply a +tedious pack of people, who haven't got the remotest knowledge of how to +live, nor the smallest instinct about when to die. + +Jack. Oh, that is nonsense! + +Algernon. It isn't! + +Jack. Well, I won't argue about the matter. You always want to argue +about things. + +Algernon. That is exactly what things were originally made for. + +Jack. Upon my word, if I thought that, I'd shoot myself . . . [A pause.] +You don't think there is any chance of Gwendolen becoming like her mother +in about a hundred and fifty years, do you, Algy? + +Algernon. All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. +No man does. That's his. + +Jack. Is that clever? + +Algernon. It is perfectly phrased! and quite as true as any observation +in civilised life should be. + +Jack. I am sick to death of cleverness. Everybody is clever nowadays. +You can't go anywhere without meeting clever people. The thing has +become an absolute public nuisance. I wish to goodness we had a few +fools left. + +Algernon. We have. + +Jack. I should extremely like to meet them. What do they talk about? + +Algernon. The fools? Oh! about the clever people, of course. + +Jack. What fools! + +Algernon. By the way, did you tell Gwendolen the truth about your being +Ernest in town, and Jack in the country? + +Jack. [In a very patronising manner.] My dear fellow, the truth isn't +quite the sort of thing one tells to a nice, sweet, refined girl. What +extraordinary ideas you have about the way to behave to a woman! + +Algernon. The only way to behave to a woman is to make love to her, if +she is pretty, and to some one else, if she is plain. + +Jack. Oh, that is nonsense. + +Algernon. What about your brother? What about the profligate Ernest? + +Jack. Oh, before the end of the week I shall have got rid of him. I'll +say he died in Paris of apoplexy. Lots of people die of apoplexy, quite +suddenly, don't they? + +Algernon. Yes, but it's hereditary, my dear fellow. It's a sort of +thing that runs in families. You had much better say a severe chill. + +Jack. You are sure a severe chill isn't hereditary, or anything of that +kind? + +Algernon. Of course it isn't! + +Jack. Very well, then. My poor brother Ernest to carried off suddenly, +in Paris, by a severe chill. That gets rid of him. + +Algernon. But I thought you said that . . . Miss Cardew was a little too +much interested in your poor brother Ernest? Won't she feel his loss a +good deal? + +Jack. Oh, that is all right. Cecily is not a silly romantic girl, I am +glad to say. She has got a capital appetite, goes long walks, and pays +no attention at all to her lessons. + +Algernon. I would rather like to see Cecily. + +Jack. I will take very good care you never do. She is excessively +pretty, and she is only just eighteen. + +Algernon. Have you told Gwendolen yet that you have an excessively +pretty ward who is only just eighteen? + +Jack. Oh! one doesn't blurt these things out to people. Cecily and +Gwendolen are perfectly certain to be extremely great friends. I'll bet +you anything you like that half an hour after they have met, they will be +calling each other sister. + +Algernon. Women only do that when they have called each other a lot of +other things first. Now, my dear boy, if we want to get a good table at +Willis's, we really must go and dress. Do you know it is nearly seven? + +Jack. [Irritably.] Oh! It always is nearly seven. + +Algernon. Well, I'm hungry. + +Jack. I never knew you when you weren't . . . + +Algernon. What shall we do after dinner? Go to a theatre? + +Jack. Oh no! I loathe listening. + +Algernon. Well, let us go to the Club? + +Jack. Oh, no! I hate talking. + +Algernon. Well, we might trot round to the Empire at ten? + +Jack. Oh, no! I can't bear looking at things. It is so silly. + +Algernon. Well, what shall we do? + +Jack. Nothing! + +Algernon. It is awfully hard work doing nothing. However, I don't mind +hard work where there is no definite object of any kind. + +[Enter Lane.] + +Lane. Miss Fairfax. + +[Enter Gwendolen. Lane goes out.] + +Algernon. Gwendolen, upon my word! + +Gwendolen. Algy, kindly turn your back. I have something very +particular to say to Mr. Worthing. + +Algernon. Really, Gwendolen, I don't think I can allow this at all. + +Gwendolen. Algy, you always adopt a strictly immoral attitude towards +life. You are not quite old enough to do that. [Algernon retires to the +fireplace.] + +Jack. My own darling! + +Gwendolen. Ernest, we may never be married. From the expression on +mamma's face I fear we never shall. Few parents nowadays pay any regard +to what their children say to them. The old-fashioned respect for the +young is fast dying out. Whatever influence I ever had over mamma, I +lost at the age of three. But although she may prevent us from becoming +man and wife, and I may marry some one else, and marry often, nothing +that she can possibly do can alter my eternal devotion to you. + +Jack. Dear Gwendolen! + +Gwendolen. The story of your romantic origin, as related to me by mamma, +with unpleasing comments, has naturally stirred the deeper fibres of my +nature. Your Christian name has an irresistible fascination. The +simplicity of your character makes you exquisitely incomprehensible to +me. Your town address at the Albany I have. What is your address in the +country? + +Jack. The Manor House, Woolton, Hertfordshire. + +[Algernon, who has been carefully listening, smiles to himself, and +writes the address on his shirt-cuff. Then picks up the Railway Guide.] + +Gwendolen. There is a good postal service, I suppose? It may be +necessary to do something desperate. That of course will require serious +consideration. I will communicate with you daily. + +Jack. My own one! + +Gwendolen. How long do you remain in town? + +Jack. Till Monday. + +Gwendolen. Good! Algy, you may turn round now. + +Algernon. Thanks, I've turned round already. + +Gwendolen. You may also ring the bell. + +Jack. You will let me see you to your carriage, my own darling? + +Gwendolen. Certainly. + +Jack. [To Lane, who now enters.] I will see Miss Fairfax out. + +Lane. Yes, sir. [Jack and Gwendolen go off.] + +[Lane presents several letters on a salver to Algernon. It is to be +surmised that they are bills, as Algernon, after looking at the +envelopes, tears them up.] + +Algernon. A glass of sherry, Lane. + +Lane. Yes, sir. + +Algernon. To-morrow, Lane, I'm going Bunburying. + +Lane. Yes, sir. + +Algernon. I shall probably not be back till Monday. You can put up my +dress clothes, my smoking jacket, and all the Bunbury suits . . . + +Lane. Yes, sir. [Handing sherry.] + +Algernon. I hope to-morrow will be a fine day, Lane. + +Lane. It never is, sir. + +Algernon. Lane, you're a perfect pessimist. + +Lane. I do my best to give satisfaction, sir. + +[Enter Jack. Lane goes off.] + +Jack. There's a sensible, intellectual girl! the only girl I ever cared +for in my life. [Algernon is laughing immoderately.] What on earth are +you so amused at? + +Algernon. Oh, I'm a little anxious about poor Bunbury, that is all. + +Jack. If you don't take care, your friend Bunbury will get you into a +serious scrape some day. + +Algernon. I love scrapes. They are the only things that are never +serious. + +Jack. Oh, that's nonsense, Algy. You never talk anything but nonsense. + +Algernon. Nobody ever does. + +[Jack looks indignantly at him, and leaves the room. Algernon lights a +cigarette, reads his shirt-cuff, and smiles.] + +ACT DROP + + + + +SECOND ACT + + +SCENE + + +Garden at the Manor House. A flight of grey stone steps leads up to the +house. The garden, an old-fashioned one, full of roses. Time of year, +July. Basket chairs, and a table covered with books, are set under a +large yew-tree. + +[Miss Prism discovered seated at the table. Cecily is at the back +watering flowers.] + +Miss Prism. [Calling.] Cecily, Cecily! Surely such a utilitarian +occupation as the watering of flowers is rather Moulton's duty than +yours? Especially at a moment when intellectual pleasures await you. +Your German grammar is on the table. Pray open it at page fifteen. We +will repeat yesterday's lesson. + +Cecily. [Coming over very slowly.] But I don't like German. It isn't +at all a becoming language. I know perfectly well that I look quite +plain after my German lesson. + +Miss Prism. Child, you know how anxious your guardian is that you should +improve yourself in every way. He laid particular stress on your German, +as he was leaving for town yesterday. Indeed, he always lays stress on +your German when he is leaving for town. + +Cecily. Dear Uncle Jack is so very serious! Sometimes he is so serious +that I think he cannot be quite well. + +Miss Prism. [Drawing herself up.] Your guardian enjoys the best of +health, and his gravity of demeanour is especially to be commended in one +so comparatively young as he is. I know no one who has a higher sense of +duty and responsibility. + +Cecily. I suppose that is why he often looks a little bored when we +three are together. + +Miss Prism. Cecily! I am surprised at you. Mr. Worthing has many +troubles in his life. Idle merriment and triviality would be out of +place in his conversation. You must remember his constant anxiety about +that unfortunate young man his brother. + +Cecily. I wish Uncle Jack would allow that unfortunate young man, his +brother, to come down here sometimes. We might have a good influence +over him, Miss Prism. I am sure you certainly would. You know German, +and geology, and things of that kind influence a man very much. [Cecily +begins to write in her diary.] + +Miss Prism. [Shaking her head.] I do not think that even I could +produce any effect on a character that according to his own brother's +admission is irretrievably weak and vacillating. Indeed I am not sure +that I would desire to reclaim him. I am not in favour of this modern +mania for turning bad people into good people at a moment's notice. As a +man sows so let him reap. You must put away your diary, Cecily. I +really don't see why you should keep a diary at all. + +Cecily. I keep a diary in order to enter the wonderful secrets of my +life. If I didn't write them down, I should probably forget all about +them. + +Miss Prism. Memory, my dear Cecily, is the diary that we all carry about +with us. + +Cecily. Yes, but it usually chronicles the things that have never +happened, and couldn't possibly have happened. I believe that Memory is +responsible for nearly all the three-volume novels that Mudie sends us. + +Miss Prism. Do not speak slightingly of the three-volume novel, Cecily. +I wrote one myself in earlier days. + +Cecily. Did you really, Miss Prism? How wonderfully clever you are! I +hope it did not end happily? I don't like novels that end happily. They +depress me so much. + +Miss Prism. The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what +Fiction means. + +Cecily. I suppose so. But it seems very unfair. And was your novel +ever published? + +Miss Prism. Alas! no. The manuscript unfortunately was abandoned. +[Cecily starts.] I use the word in the sense of lost or mislaid. To +your work, child, these speculations are profitless. + +Cecily. [Smiling.] But I see dear Dr. Chasuble coming up through the +garden. + +Miss Prism. [Rising and advancing.] Dr. Chasuble! This is indeed a +pleasure. + +[Enter Canon Chasuble.] + +Chasuble. And how are we this morning? Miss Prism, you are, I trust, +well? + +Cecily. Miss Prism has just been complaining of a slight headache. I +think it would do her so much good to have a short stroll with you in the +Park, Dr. Chasuble. + +Miss Prism. Cecily, I have not mentioned anything about a headache. + +Cecily. No, dear Miss Prism, I know that, but I felt instinctively that +you had a headache. Indeed I was thinking about that, and not about my +German lesson, when the Rector came in. + +Chasuble. I hope, Cecily, you are not inattentive. + +Cecily. Oh, I am afraid I am. + +Chasuble. That is strange. Were I fortunate enough to be Miss Prism's +pupil, I would hang upon her lips. [Miss Prism glares.] I spoke +metaphorically.--My metaphor was drawn from bees. Ahem! Mr. Worthing, I +suppose, has not returned from town yet? + +Miss Prism. We do not expect him till Monday afternoon. + +Chasuble. Ah yes, he usually likes to spend his Sunday in London. He is +not one of those whose sole aim is enjoyment, as, by all accounts, that +unfortunate young man his brother seems to be. But I must not disturb +Egeria and her pupil any longer. + +Miss Prism. Egeria? My name is Laetitia, Doctor. + +Chasuble. [Bowing.] A classical allusion merely, drawn from the Pagan +authors. I shall see you both no doubt at Evensong? + +Miss Prism. I think, dear Doctor, I will have a stroll with you. I find +I have a headache after all, and a walk might do it good. + +Chasuble. With pleasure, Miss Prism, with pleasure. We might go as far +as the schools and back. + +Miss Prism. That would be delightful. Cecily, you will read your +Political Economy in my absence. The chapter on the Fall of the Rupee +you may omit. It is somewhat too sensational. Even these metallic +problems have their melodramatic side. + +[Goes down the garden with Dr. Chasuble.] + +Cecily. [Picks up books and throws them back on table.] Horrid +Political Economy! Horrid Geography! Horrid, horrid German! + +[Enter Merriman with a card on a salver.] + +Merriman. Mr. Ernest Worthing has just driven over from the station. He +has brought his luggage with him. + +Cecily. [Takes the card and reads it.] 'Mr. Ernest Worthing, B. 4, The +Albany, W.' Uncle Jack's brother! Did you tell him Mr. Worthing was in +town? + +Merriman. Yes, Miss. He seemed very much disappointed. I mentioned +that you and Miss Prism were in the garden. He said he was anxious to +speak to you privately for a moment. + +Cecily. Ask Mr. Ernest Worthing to come here. I suppose you had better +talk to the housekeeper about a room for him. + +Merriman. Yes, Miss. + +[Merriman goes off.] + +Cecily. I have never met any really wicked person before. I feel rather +frightened. I am so afraid he will look just like every one else. + +[Enter Algernon, very gay and debonnair.] He does! + +Algernon. [Raising his hat.] You are my little cousin Cecily, I'm sure. + +Cecily. You are under some strange mistake. I am not little. In fact, +I believe I am more than usually tall for my age. [Algernon is rather +taken aback.] But I am your cousin Cecily. You, I see from your card, +are Uncle Jack's brother, my cousin Ernest, my wicked cousin Ernest. + +Algernon. Oh! I am not really wicked at all, cousin Cecily. You mustn't +think that I am wicked. + +Cecily. If you are not, then you have certainly been deceiving us all in +a very inexcusable manner. I hope you have not been leading a double +life, pretending to be wicked and being really good all the time. That +would be hypocrisy. + +Algernon. [Looks at her in amazement.] Oh! Of course I have been +rather reckless. + +Cecily. I am glad to hear it. + +Algernon. In fact, now you mention the subject, I have been very bad in +my own small way. + +Cecily. I don't think you should be so proud of that, though I am sure +it must have been very pleasant. + +Algernon. It is much pleasanter being here with you. + +Cecily. I can't understand how you are here at all. Uncle Jack won't be +back till Monday afternoon. + +Algernon. That is a great disappointment. I am obliged to go up by the +first train on Monday morning. I have a business appointment that I am +anxious . . . to miss? + +Cecily. Couldn't you miss it anywhere but in London? + +Algernon. No: the appointment is in London. + +Cecily. Well, I know, of course, how important it is not to keep a +business engagement, if one wants to retain any sense of the beauty of +life, but still I think you had better wait till Uncle Jack arrives. I +know he wants to speak to you about your emigrating. + +Algernon. About my what? + +Cecily. Your emigrating. He has gone up to buy your outfit. + +Algernon. I certainly wouldn't let Jack buy my outfit. He has no taste +in neckties at all. + +Cecily. I don't think you will require neckties. Uncle Jack is sending +you to Australia. + +Algernon. Australia! I'd sooner die. + +Cecily. Well, he said at dinner on Wednesday night, that you would have +to choose between this world, the next world, and Australia. + +Algernon. Oh, well! The accounts I have received of Australia and the +next world, are not particularly encouraging. This world is good enough +for me, cousin Cecily. + +Cecily. Yes, but are you good enough for it? + +Algernon. I'm afraid I'm not that. That is why I want you to reform me. +You might make that your mission, if you don't mind, cousin Cecily. + +Cecily. I'm afraid I've no time, this afternoon. + +Algernon. Well, would you mind my reforming myself this afternoon? + +Cecily. It is rather Quixotic of you. But I think you should try. + +Algernon. I will. I feel better already. + +Cecily. You are looking a little worse. + +Algernon. That is because I am hungry. + +Cecily. How thoughtless of me. I should have remembered that when one +is going to lead an entirely new life, one requires regular and wholesome +meals. Won't you come in? + +Algernon. Thank you. Might I have a buttonhole first? I never have any +appetite unless I have a buttonhole first. + +Cecily. A Marechal Niel? [Picks up scissors.] + +Algernon. No, I'd sooner have a pink rose. + +Cecily. Why? [Cuts a flower.] + +Algernon. Because you are like a pink rose, Cousin Cecily. + +Cecily. I don't think it can be right for you to talk to me like that. +Miss Prism never says such things to me. + +Algernon. Then Miss Prism is a short-sighted old lady. [Cecily puts the +rose in his buttonhole.] You are the prettiest girl I ever saw. + +Cecily. Miss Prism says that all good looks are a snare. + +Algernon. They are a snare that every sensible man would like to be +caught in. + +Cecily. Oh, I don't think I would care to catch a sensible man. I +shouldn't know what to talk to him about. + +[They pass into the house. Miss Prism and Dr. Chasuble return.] + +Miss Prism. You are too much alone, dear Dr. Chasuble. You should get +married. A misanthrope I can understand--a womanthrope, never! + +Chasuble. [With a scholar's shudder.] Believe me, I do not deserve so +neologistic a phrase. The precept as well as the practice of the +Primitive Church was distinctly against matrimony. + +Miss Prism. [Sententiously.] That is obviously the reason why the +Primitive Church has not lasted up to the present day. And you do not +seem to realise, dear Doctor, that by persistently remaining single, a +man converts himself into a permanent public temptation. Men should be +more careful; this very celibacy leads weaker vessels astray. + +Chasuble. But is a man not equally attractive when married? + +Miss Prism. No married man is ever attractive except to his wife. + +Chasuble. And often, I've been told, not even to her. + +Miss Prism. That depends on the intellectual sympathies of the woman. +Maturity can always be depended on. Ripeness can be trusted. Young +women are green. [Dr. Chasuble starts.] I spoke horticulturally. My +metaphor was drawn from fruits. But where is Cecily? + +Chasuble. Perhaps she followed us to the schools. + +[Enter Jack slowly from the back of the garden. He is dressed in the +deepest mourning, with crape hatband and black gloves.] + +Miss Prism. Mr. Worthing! + +Chasuble. Mr. Worthing? + +Miss Prism. This is indeed a surprise. We did not look for you till +Monday afternoon. + +Jack. [Shakes Miss Prism's hand in a tragic manner.] I have returned +sooner than I expected. Dr. Chasuble, I hope you are well? + +Chasuble. Dear Mr. Worthing, I trust this garb of woe does not betoken +some terrible calamity? + +Jack. My brother. + +Miss Prism. More shameful debts and extravagance? + +Chasuble. Still leading his life of pleasure? + +Jack. [Shaking his head.] Dead! + +Chasuble. Your brother Ernest dead? + +Jack. Quite dead. + +Miss Prism. What a lesson for him! I trust he will profit by it. + +Chasuble. Mr. Worthing, I offer you my sincere condolence. You have at +least the consolation of knowing that you were always the most generous +and forgiving of brothers. + +Jack. Poor Ernest! He had many faults, but it is a sad, sad blow. + +Chasuble. Very sad indeed. Were you with him at the end? + +Jack. No. He died abroad; in Paris, in fact. I had a telegram last +night from the manager of the Grand Hotel. + +Chasuble. Was the cause of death mentioned? + +Jack. A severe chill, it seems. + +Miss Prism. As a man sows, so shall he reap. + +Chasuble. [Raising his hand.] Charity, dear Miss Prism, charity! None +of us are perfect. I myself am peculiarly susceptible to draughts. Will +the interment take place here? + +Jack. No. He seems to have expressed a desire to be buried in Paris. + +Chasuble. In Paris! [Shakes his head.] I fear that hardly points to +any very serious state of mind at the last. You would no doubt wish me +to make some slight allusion to this tragic domestic affliction next +Sunday. [Jack presses his hand convulsively.] My sermon on the meaning +of the manna in the wilderness can be adapted to almost any occasion, +joyful, or, as in the present case, distressing. [All sigh.] I have +preached it at harvest celebrations, christenings, confirmations, on days +of humiliation and festal days. The last time I delivered it was in the +Cathedral, as a charity sermon on behalf of the Society for the +Prevention of Discontent among the Upper Orders. The Bishop, who was +present, was much struck by some of the analogies I drew. + +Jack. Ah! that reminds me, you mentioned christenings I think, Dr. +Chasuble? I suppose you know how to christen all right? [Dr. Chasuble +looks astounded.] I mean, of course, you are continually christening, +aren't you? + +Miss Prism. It is, I regret to say, one of the Rector's most constant +duties in this parish. I have often spoken to the poorer classes on the +subject. But they don't seem to know what thrift is. + +Chasuble. But is there any particular infant in whom you are interested, +Mr. Worthing? Your brother was, I believe, unmarried, was he not? + +Jack. Oh yes. + +Miss Prism. [Bitterly.] People who live entirely for pleasure usually +are. + +Jack. But it is not for any child, dear Doctor. I am very fond of +children. No! the fact is, I would like to be christened myself, this +afternoon, if you have nothing better to do. + +Chasuble. But surely, Mr. Worthing, you have been christened already? + +Jack. I don't remember anything about it. + +Chasuble. But have you any grave doubts on the subject? + +Jack. I certainly intend to have. Of course I don't know if the thing +would bother you in any way, or if you think I am a little too old now. + +Chasuble. Not at all. The sprinkling, and, indeed, the immersion of +adults is a perfectly canonical practice. + +Jack. Immersion! + +Chasuble. You need have no apprehensions. Sprinkling is all that is +necessary, or indeed I think advisable. Our weather is so changeable. At +what hour would you wish the ceremony performed? + +Jack. Oh, I might trot round about five if that would suit you. + +Chasuble. Perfectly, perfectly! In fact I have two similar ceremonies +to perform at that time. A case of twins that occurred recently in one +of the outlying cottages on your own estate. Poor Jenkins the carter, a +most hard-working man. + +Jack. Oh! I don't see much fun in being christened along with other +babies. It would be childish. Would half-past five do? + +Chasuble. Admirably! Admirably! [Takes out watch.] And now, dear Mr. +Worthing, I will not intrude any longer into a house of sorrow. I would +merely beg you not to be too much bowed down by grief. What seem to us +bitter trials are often blessings in disguise. + +Miss Prism. This seems to me a blessing of an extremely obvious kind. + +[Enter Cecily from the house.] + +Cecily. Uncle Jack! Oh, I am pleased to see you back. But what horrid +clothes you have got on! Do go and change them. + +Miss Prism. Cecily! + +Chasuble. My child! my child! [Cecily goes towards Jack; he kisses her +brow in a melancholy manner.] + +Cecily. What is the matter, Uncle Jack? Do look happy! You look as if +you had toothache, and I have got such a surprise for you. Who do you +think is in the dining-room? Your brother! + +Jack. Who? + +Cecily. Your brother Ernest. He arrived about half an hour ago. + +Jack. What nonsense! I haven't got a brother. + +Cecily. Oh, don't say that. However badly he may have behaved to you in +the past he is still your brother. You couldn't be so heartless as to +disown him. I'll tell him to come out. And you will shake hands with +him, won't you, Uncle Jack? [Runs back into the house.] + +Chasuble. These are very joyful tidings. + +Miss Prism. After we had all been resigned to his loss, his sudden +return seems to me peculiarly distressing. + +Jack. My brother is in the dining-room? I don't know what it all means. +I think it is perfectly absurd. + +[Enter Algernon and Cecily hand in hand. They come slowly up to Jack.] + +Jack. Good heavens! [Motions Algernon away.] + +Algernon. Brother John, I have come down from town to tell you that I am +very sorry for all the trouble I have given you, and that I intend to +lead a better life in the future. [Jack glares at him and does not take +his hand.] + +Cecily. Uncle Jack, you are not going to refuse your own brother's hand? + +Jack. Nothing will induce me to take his hand. I think his coming down +here disgraceful. He knows perfectly well why. + +Cecily. Uncle Jack, do be nice. There is some good in every one. Ernest +has just been telling me about his poor invalid friend Mr. Bunbury whom +he goes to visit so often. And surely there must be much good in one who +is kind to an invalid, and leaves the pleasures of London to sit by a bed +of pain. + +Jack. Oh! he has been talking about Bunbury, has he? + +Cecily. Yes, he has told me all about poor Mr. Bunbury, and his terrible +state of health. + +Jack. Bunbury! Well, I won't have him talk to you about Bunbury or +about anything else. It is enough to drive one perfectly frantic. + +Algernon. Of course I admit that the faults were all on my side. But I +must say that I think that Brother John's coldness to me is peculiarly +painful. I expected a more enthusiastic welcome, especially considering +it is the first time I have come here. + +Cecily. Uncle Jack, if you don't shake hands with Ernest I will never +forgive you. + +Jack. Never forgive me? + +Cecily. Never, never, never! + +Jack. Well, this is the last time I shall ever do it. [Shakes with +Algernon and glares.] + +Chasuble. It's pleasant, is it not, to see so perfect a reconciliation? +I think we might leave the two brothers together. + +Miss Prism. Cecily, you will come with us. + +Cecily. Certainly, Miss Prism. My little task of reconciliation is +over. + +Chasuble. You have done a beautiful action to-day, dear child. + +Miss Prism. We must not be premature in our judgments. + +Cecily. I feel very happy. [They all go off except Jack and Algernon.] + +Jack. You young scoundrel, Algy, you must get out of this place as soon +as possible. I don't allow any Bunburying here. + +[Enter Merriman.] + +Merriman. I have put Mr. Ernest's things in the room next to yours, sir. +I suppose that is all right? + +Jack. What? + +Merriman. Mr. Ernest's luggage, sir. I have unpacked it and put it in +the room next to your own. + +Jack. His luggage? + +Merriman. Yes, sir. Three portmanteaus, a dressing-case, two hat-boxes, +and a large luncheon-basket. + +Algernon. I am afraid I can't stay more than a week this time. + +Jack. Merriman, order the dog-cart at once. Mr. Ernest has been +suddenly called back to town. + +Merriman. Yes, sir. [Goes back into the house.] + +Algernon. What a fearful liar you are, Jack. I have not been called +back to town at all. + +Jack. Yes, you have. + +Algernon. I haven't heard any one call me. + +Jack. Your duty as a gentleman calls you back. + +Algernon. My duty as a gentleman has never interfered with my pleasures +in the smallest degree. + +Jack. I can quite understand that. + +Algernon. Well, Cecily is a darling. + +Jack. You are not to talk of Miss Cardew like that. I don't like it. + +Algernon. Well, I don't like your clothes. You look perfectly +ridiculous in them. Why on earth don't you go up and change? It is +perfectly childish to be in deep mourning for a man who is actually +staying for a whole week with you in your house as a guest. I call it +grotesque. + +Jack. You are certainly not staying with me for a whole week as a guest +or anything else. You have got to leave . . . by the four-five train. + +Algernon. I certainly won't leave you so long as you are in mourning. It +would be most unfriendly. If I were in mourning you would stay with me, +I suppose. I should think it very unkind if you didn't. + +Jack. Well, will you go if I change my clothes? + +Algernon. Yes, if you are not too long. I never saw anybody take so +long to dress, and with such little result. + +Jack. Well, at any rate, that is better than being always over-dressed +as you are. + +Algernon. If I am occasionally a little over-dressed, I make up for it +by being always immensely over-educated. + +Jack. Your vanity is ridiculous, your conduct an outrage, and your +presence in my garden utterly absurd. However, you have got to catch the +four-five, and I hope you will have a pleasant journey back to town. This +Bunburying, as you call it, has not been a great success for you. + +[Goes into the house.] + +Algernon. I think it has been a great success. I'm in love with Cecily, +and that is everything. + +[Enter Cecily at the back of the garden. She picks up the can and begins +to water the flowers.] But I must see her before I go, and make +arrangements for another Bunbury. Ah, there she is. + +Cecily. Oh, I merely came back to water the roses. I thought you were +with Uncle Jack. + +Algernon. He's gone to order the dog-cart for me. + +Cecily. Oh, is he going to take you for a nice drive? + +Algernon. He's going to send me away. + +Cecily. Then have we got to part? + +Algernon. I am afraid so. It's a very painful parting. + +Cecily. It is always painful to part from people whom one has known for +a very brief space of time. The absence of old friends one can endure +with equanimity. But even a momentary separation from anyone to whom one +has just been introduced is almost unbearable. + +Algernon. Thank you. + +[Enter Merriman.] + +Merriman. The dog-cart is at the door, sir. [Algernon looks appealingly +at Cecily.] + +Cecily. It can wait, Merriman for . . . five minutes. + +Merriman. Yes, Miss. [Exit Merriman.] + +Algernon. I hope, Cecily, I shall not offend you if I state quite +frankly and openly that you seem to me to be in every way the visible +personification of absolute perfection. + +Cecily. I think your frankness does you great credit, Ernest. If you +will allow me, I will copy your remarks into my diary. [Goes over to +table and begins writing in diary.] + +Algernon. Do you really keep a diary? I'd give anything to look at it. +May I? + +Cecily. Oh no. [Puts her hand over it.] You see, it is simply a very +young girl's record of her own thoughts and impressions, and consequently +meant for publication. When it appears in volume form I hope you will +order a copy. But pray, Ernest, don't stop. I delight in taking down +from dictation. I have reached 'absolute perfection'. You can go on. I +am quite ready for more. + +Algernon. [Somewhat taken aback.] Ahem! Ahem! + +Cecily. Oh, don't cough, Ernest. When one is dictating one should speak +fluently and not cough. Besides, I don't know how to spell a cough. +[Writes as Algernon speaks.] + +Algernon. [Speaking very rapidly.] Cecily, ever since I first looked +upon your wonderful and incomparable beauty, I have dared to love you +wildly, passionately, devotedly, hopelessly. + +Cecily. I don't think that you should tell me that you love me wildly, +passionately, devotedly, hopelessly. Hopelessly doesn't seem to make +much sense, does it? + +Algernon. Cecily! + +[Enter Merriman.] + +Merriman. The dog-cart is waiting, sir. + +Algernon. Tell it to come round next week, at the same hour. + +Merriman. [Looks at Cecily, who makes no sign.] Yes, sir. + +[Merriman retires.] + +Cecily. Uncle Jack would be very much annoyed if he knew you were +staying on till next week, at the same hour. + +Algernon. Oh, I don't care about Jack. I don't care for anybody in the +whole world but you. I love you, Cecily. You will marry me, won't you? + +Cecily. You silly boy! Of course. Why, we have been engaged for the +last three months. + +Algernon. For the last three months? + +Cecily. Yes, it will be exactly three months on Thursday. + +Algernon. But how did we become engaged? + +Cecily. Well, ever since dear Uncle Jack first confessed to us that he +had a younger brother who was very wicked and bad, you of course have +formed the chief topic of conversation between myself and Miss Prism. And +of course a man who is much talked about is always very attractive. One +feels there must be something in him, after all. I daresay it was +foolish of me, but I fell in love with you, Ernest. + +Algernon. Darling! And when was the engagement actually settled? + +Cecily. On the 14th of February last. Worn out by your entire ignorance +of my existence, I determined to end the matter one way or the other, and +after a long struggle with myself I accepted you under this dear old tree +here. The next day I bought this little ring in your name, and this is +the little bangle with the true lover's knot I promised you always to +wear. + +Algernon. Did I give you this? It's very pretty, isn't it? + +Cecily. Yes, you've wonderfully good taste, Ernest. It's the excuse +I've always given for your leading such a bad life. And this is the box +in which I keep all your dear letters. [Kneels at table, opens box, and +produces letters tied up with blue ribbon.] + +Algernon. My letters! But, my own sweet Cecily, I have never written +you any letters. + +Cecily. You need hardly remind me of that, Ernest. I remember only too +well that I was forced to write your letters for you. I wrote always +three times a week, and sometimes oftener. + +Algernon. Oh, do let me read them, Cecily? + +Cecily. Oh, I couldn't possibly. They would make you far too conceited. +[Replaces box.] The three you wrote me after I had broken off the +engagement are so beautiful, and so badly spelled, that even now I can +hardly read them without crying a little. + +Algernon. But was our engagement ever broken off? + +Cecily. Of course it was. On the 22nd of last March. You can see the +entry if you like. [Shows diary.] 'To-day I broke off my engagement with +Ernest. I feel it is better to do so. The weather still continues +charming.' + +Algernon. But why on earth did you break it off? What had I done? I +had done nothing at all. Cecily, I am very much hurt indeed to hear you +broke it off. Particularly when the weather was so charming. + +Cecily. It would hardly have been a really serious engagement if it +hadn't been broken off at least once. But I forgave you before the week +was out. + +Algernon. [Crossing to her, and kneeling.] What a perfect angel you +are, Cecily. + +Cecily. You dear romantic boy. [He kisses her, she puts her fingers +through his hair.] I hope your hair curls naturally, does it? + +Algernon. Yes, darling, with a little help from others. + +Cecily. I am so glad. + +Algernon. You'll never break off our engagement again, Cecily? + +Cecily. I don't think I could break it off now that I have actually met +you. Besides, of course, there is the question of your name. + +Algernon. Yes, of course. [Nervously.] + +Cecily. You must not laugh at me, darling, but it had always been a +girlish dream of mine to love some one whose name was Ernest. [Algernon +rises, Cecily also.] There is something in that name that seems to +inspire absolute confidence. I pity any poor married woman whose husband +is not called Ernest. + +Algernon. But, my dear child, do you mean to say you could not love me +if I had some other name? + +Cecily. But what name? + +Algernon. Oh, any name you like--Algernon--for instance . . . + +Cecily. But I don't like the name of Algernon. + +Algernon. Well, my own dear, sweet, loving little darling, I really +can't see why you should object to the name of Algernon. It is not at +all a bad name. In fact, it is rather an aristocratic name. Half of the +chaps who get into the Bankruptcy Court are called Algernon. But +seriously, Cecily . . . [Moving to her] . . . if my name was Algy, +couldn't you love me? + +Cecily. [Rising.] I might respect you, Ernest, I might admire your +character, but I fear that I should not be able to give you my undivided +attention. + +Algernon. Ahem! Cecily! [Picking up hat.] Your Rector here is, I +suppose, thoroughly experienced in the practice of all the rites and +ceremonials of the Church? + +Cecily. Oh, yes. Dr. Chasuble is a most learned man. He has never +written a single book, so you can imagine how much he knows. + +Algernon. I must see him at once on a most important christening--I mean +on most important business. + +Cecily. Oh! + +Algernon. I shan't be away more than half an hour. + +Cecily. Considering that we have been engaged since February the 14th, +and that I only met you to-day for the first time, I think it is rather +hard that you should leave me for so long a period as half an hour. +Couldn't you make it twenty minutes? + +Algernon. I'll be back in no time. + +[Kisses her and rushes down the garden.] + +Cecily. What an impetuous boy he is! I like his hair so much. I must +enter his proposal in my diary. + +[Enter Merriman.] + +Merriman. A Miss Fairfax has just called to see Mr. Worthing. On very +important business, Miss Fairfax states. + +Cecily. Isn't Mr. Worthing in his library? + +Merriman. Mr. Worthing went over in the direction of the Rectory some +time ago. + +Cecily. Pray ask the lady to come out here; Mr. Worthing is sure to be +back soon. And you can bring tea. + +Merriman. Yes, Miss. [Goes out.] + +Cecily. Miss Fairfax! I suppose one of the many good elderly women who +are associated with Uncle Jack in some of his philanthropic work in +London. I don't quite like women who are interested in philanthropic +work. I think it is so forward of them. + +[Enter Merriman.] + +Merriman. Miss Fairfax. + +[Enter Gwendolen.] + +[Exit Merriman.] + +Cecily. [Advancing to meet her.] Pray let me introduce myself to you. +My name is Cecily Cardew. + +Gwendolen. Cecily Cardew? [Moving to her and shaking hands.] What a +very sweet name! Something tells me that we are going to be great +friends. I like you already more than I can say. My first impressions +of people are never wrong. + +Cecily. How nice of you to like me so much after we have known each +other such a comparatively short time. Pray sit down. + +Gwendolen. [Still standing up.] I may call you Cecily, may I not? + +Cecily. With pleasure! + +Gwendolen. And you will always call me Gwendolen, won't you? + +Cecily. If you wish. + +Gwendolen. Then that is all quite settled, is it not? + +Cecily. I hope so. [A pause. They both sit down together.] + +Gwendolen. Perhaps this might be a favourable opportunity for my +mentioning who I am. My father is Lord Bracknell. You have never heard +of papa, I suppose? + +Cecily. I don't think so. + +Gwendolen. Outside the family circle, papa, I am glad to say, is +entirely unknown. I think that is quite as it should be. The home seems +to me to be the proper sphere for the man. And certainly once a man +begins to neglect his domestic duties he becomes painfully effeminate, +does he not? And I don't like that. It makes men so very attractive. +Cecily, mamma, whose views on education are remarkably strict, has +brought me up to be extremely short-sighted; it is part of her system; so +do you mind my looking at you through my glasses? + +Cecily. Oh! not at all, Gwendolen. I am very fond of being looked at. + +Gwendolen. [After examining Cecily carefully through a lorgnette.] You +are here on a short visit, I suppose. + +Cecily. Oh no! I live here. + +Gwendolen. [Severely.] Really? Your mother, no doubt, or some female +relative of advanced years, resides here also? + +Cecily. Oh no! I have no mother, nor, in fact, any relations. + +Gwendolen. Indeed? + +Cecily. My dear guardian, with the assistance of Miss Prism, has the +arduous task of looking after me. + +Gwendolen. Your guardian? + +Cecily. Yes, I am Mr. Worthing's ward. + +Gwendolen. Oh! It is strange he never mentioned to me that he had a +ward. How secretive of him! He grows more interesting hourly. I am not +sure, however, that the news inspires me with feelings of unmixed +delight. [Rising and going to her.] I am very fond of you, Cecily; I +have liked you ever since I met you! But I am bound to state that now +that I know that you are Mr. Worthing's ward, I cannot help expressing a +wish you were--well, just a little older than you seem to be--and not +quite so very alluring in appearance. In fact, if I may speak candidly-- + +Cecily. Pray do! I think that whenever one has anything unpleasant to +say, one should always be quite candid. + +Gwendolen. Well, to speak with perfect candour, Cecily, I wish that you +were fully forty-two, and more than usually plain for your age. Ernest +has a strong upright nature. He is the very soul of truth and honour. +Disloyalty would be as impossible to him as deception. But even men of +the noblest possible moral character are extremely susceptible to the +influence of the physical charms of others. Modern, no less than Ancient +History, supplies us with many most painful examples of what I refer to. +If it were not so, indeed, History would be quite unreadable. + +Cecily. I beg your pardon, Gwendolen, did you say Ernest? + +Gwendolen. Yes. + +Cecily. Oh, but it is not Mr. Ernest Worthing who is my guardian. It is +his brother--his elder brother. + +Gwendolen. [Sitting down again.] Ernest never mentioned to me that he +had a brother. + +Cecily. I am sorry to say they have not been on good terms for a long +time. + +Gwendolen. Ah! that accounts for it. And now that I think of it I have +never heard any man mention his brother. The subject seems distasteful +to most men. Cecily, you have lifted a load from my mind. I was growing +almost anxious. It would have been terrible if any cloud had come across +a friendship like ours, would it not? Of course you are quite, quite +sure that it is not Mr. Ernest Worthing who is your guardian? + +Cecily. Quite sure. [A pause.] In fact, I am going to be his. + +Gwendolen. [Inquiringly.] I beg your pardon? + +Cecily. [Rather shy and confidingly.] Dearest Gwendolen, there is no +reason why I should make a secret of it to you. Our little county +newspaper is sure to chronicle the fact next week. Mr. Ernest Worthing +and I are engaged to be married. + +Gwendolen. [Quite politely, rising.] My darling Cecily, I think there +must be some slight error. Mr. Ernest Worthing is engaged to me. The +announcement will appear in the _Morning Post_ on Saturday at the latest. + +Cecily. [Very politely, rising.] I am afraid you must be under some +misconception. Ernest proposed to me exactly ten minutes ago. [Shows +diary.] + +Gwendolen. [Examines diary through her lorgnettte carefully.] It is +certainly very curious, for he asked me to be his wife yesterday +afternoon at 5.30. If you would care to verify the incident, pray do so. +[Produces diary of her own.] I never travel without my diary. One +should always have something sensational to read in the train. I am so +sorry, dear Cecily, if it is any disappointment to you, but I am afraid I +have the prior claim. + +Cecily. It would distress me more than I can tell you, dear Gwendolen, +if it caused you any mental or physical anguish, but I feel bound to +point out that since Ernest proposed to you he clearly has changed his +mind. + +Gwendolen. [Meditatively.] If the poor fellow has been entrapped into +any foolish promise I shall consider it my duty to rescue him at once, +and with a firm hand. + +Cecily. [Thoughtfully and sadly.] Whatever unfortunate entanglement my +dear boy may have got into, I will never reproach him with it after we +are married. + +Gwendolen. Do you allude to me, Miss Cardew, as an entanglement? You +are presumptuous. On an occasion of this kind it becomes more than a +moral duty to speak one's mind. It becomes a pleasure. + +Cecily. Do you suggest, Miss Fairfax, that I entrapped Ernest into an +engagement? How dare you? This is no time for wearing the shallow mask +of manners. When I see a spade I call it a spade. + +Gwendolen. [Satirically.] I am glad to say that I have never seen a +spade. It is obvious that our social spheres have been widely different. + +[Enter Merriman, followed by the footman. He carries a salver, table +cloth, and plate stand. Cecily is about to retort. The presence of the +servants exercises a restraining influence, under which both girls +chafe.] + +Merriman. Shall I lay tea here as usual, Miss? + +Cecily. [Sternly, in a calm voice.] Yes, as usual. [Merriman begins to +clear table and lay cloth. A long pause. Cecily and Gwendolen glare at +each other.] + +Gwendolen. Are there many interesting walks in the vicinity, Miss +Cardew? + +Cecily. Oh! yes! a great many. From the top of one of the hills quite +close one can see five counties. + +Gwendolen. Five counties! I don't think I should like that; I hate +crowds. + +Cecily. [Sweetly.] I suppose that is why you live in town? [Gwendolen +bites her lip, and beats her foot nervously with her parasol.] + +Gwendolen. [Looking round.] Quite a well-kept garden this is, Miss +Cardew. + +Cecily. So glad you like it, Miss Fairfax. + +Gwendolen. I had no idea there were any flowers in the country. + +Cecily. Oh, flowers are as common here, Miss Fairfax, as people are in +London. + +Gwendolen. Personally I cannot understand how anybody manages to exist +in the country, if anybody who is anybody does. The country always bores +me to death. + +Cecily. Ah! This is what the newspapers call agricultural depression, +is it not? I believe the aristocracy are suffering very much from it +just at present. It is almost an epidemic amongst them, I have been +told. May I offer you some tea, Miss Fairfax? + +Gwendolen. [With elaborate politeness.] Thank you. [Aside.] Detestable +girl! But I require tea! + +Cecily. [Sweetly.] Sugar? + +Gwendolen. [Superciliously.] No, thank you. Sugar is not fashionable +any more. [Cecily looks angrily at her, takes up the tongs and puts four +lumps of sugar into the cup.] + +Cecily. [Severely.] Cake or bread and butter? + +Gwendolen. [In a bored manner.] Bread and butter, please. Cake is +rarely seen at the best houses nowadays. + +Cecily. [Cuts a very large slice of cake, and puts it on the tray.] Hand +that to Miss Fairfax. + +[Merriman does so, and goes out with footman. Gwendolen drinks the tea +and makes a grimace. Puts down cup at once, reaches out her hand to the +bread and butter, looks at it, and finds it is cake. Rises in +indignation.] + +Gwendolen. You have filled my tea with lumps of sugar, and though I +asked most distinctly for bread and butter, you have given me cake. I am +known for the gentleness of my disposition, and the extraordinary +sweetness of my nature, but I warn you, Miss Cardew, you may go too far. + +Cecily. [Rising.] To save my poor, innocent, trusting boy from the +machinations of any other girl there are no lengths to which I would not +go. + +Gwendolen. From the moment I saw you I distrusted you. I felt that you +were false and deceitful. I am never deceived in such matters. My first +impressions of people are invariably right. + +Cecily. It seems to me, Miss Fairfax, that I am trespassing on your +valuable time. No doubt you have many other calls of a similar character +to make in the neighbourhood. + +[Enter Jack.] + +Gwendolen. [Catching sight of him.] Ernest! My own Ernest! + +Jack. Gwendolen! Darling! [Offers to kiss her.] + +Gwendolen. [Draws back.] A moment! May I ask if you are engaged to be +married to this young lady? [Points to Cecily.] + +Jack. [Laughing.] To dear little Cecily! Of course not! What could +have put such an idea into your pretty little head? + +Gwendolen. Thank you. You may! [Offers her cheek.] + +Cecily. [Very sweetly.] I knew there must be some misunderstanding, +Miss Fairfax. The gentleman whose arm is at present round your waist is +my guardian, Mr. John Worthing. + +Gwendolen. I beg your pardon? + +Cecily. This is Uncle Jack. + +Gwendolen. [Receding.] Jack! Oh! + +[Enter Algernon.] + +Cecily. Here is Ernest. + +Algernon. [Goes straight over to Cecily without noticing any one else.] +My own love! [Offers to kiss her.] + +Cecily. [Drawing back.] A moment, Ernest! May I ask you--are you +engaged to be married to this young lady? + +Algernon. [Looking round.] To what young lady? Good heavens! +Gwendolen! + +Cecily. Yes! to good heavens, Gwendolen, I mean to Gwendolen. + +Algernon. [Laughing.] Of course not! What could have put such an idea +into your pretty little head? + +Cecily. Thank you. [Presenting her cheek to be kissed.] You may. +[Algernon kisses her.] + +Gwendolen. I felt there was some slight error, Miss Cardew. The +gentleman who is now embracing you is my cousin, Mr. Algernon Moncrieff. + +Cecily. [Breaking away from Algernon.] Algernon Moncrieff! Oh! [The +two girls move towards each other and put their arms round each other's +waists as if for protection.] + +Cecily. Are you called Algernon? + +Algernon. I cannot deny it. + +Cecily. Oh! + +Gwendolen. Is your name really John? + +Jack. [Standing rather proudly.] I could deny it if I liked. I could +deny anything if I liked. But my name certainly is John. It has been +John for years. + +Cecily. [To Gwendolen.] A gross deception has been practised on both of +us. + +Gwendolen. My poor wounded Cecily! + +Cecily. My sweet wronged Gwendolen! + +Gwendolen. [Slowly and seriously.] You will call me sister, will you +not? [They embrace. Jack and Algernon groan and walk up and down.] + +Cecily. [Rather brightly.] There is just one question I would like to +be allowed to ask my guardian. + +Gwendolen. An admirable idea! Mr. Worthing, there is just one question +I would like to be permitted to put to you. Where is your brother +Ernest? We are both engaged to be married to your brother Ernest, so it +is a matter of some importance to us to know where your brother Ernest is +at present. + +Jack. [Slowly and hesitatingly.] Gwendolen--Cecily--it is very painful +for me to be forced to speak the truth. It is the first time in my life +that I have ever been reduced to such a painful position, and I am really +quite inexperienced in doing anything of the kind. However, I will tell +you quite frankly that I have no brother Ernest. I have no brother at +all. I never had a brother in my life, and I certainly have not the +smallest intention of ever having one in the future. + +Cecily. [Surprised.] No brother at all? + +Jack. [Cheerily.] None! + +Gwendolen. [Severely.] Had you never a brother of any kind? + +Jack. [Pleasantly.] Never. Not even of any kind. + +Gwendolen. I am afraid it is quite clear, Cecily, that neither of us is +engaged to be married to any one. + +Cecily. It is not a very pleasant position for a young girl suddenly to +find herself in. Is it? + +Gwendolen. Let us go into the house. They will hardly venture to come +after us there. + +Cecily. No, men are so cowardly, aren't they? + +[They retire into the house with scornful looks.] + +Jack. This ghastly state of things is what you call Bunburying, I +suppose? + +Algernon. Yes, and a perfectly wonderful Bunbury it is. The most +wonderful Bunbury I have ever had in my life. + +Jack. Well, you've no right whatsoever to Bunbury here. + +Algernon. That is absurd. One has a right to Bunbury anywhere one +chooses. Every serious Bunburyist knows that. + +Jack. Serious Bunburyist! Good heavens! + +Algernon. Well, one must be serious about something, if one wants to +have any amusement in life. I happen to be serious about Bunburying. +What on earth you are serious about I haven't got the remotest idea. +About everything, I should fancy. You have such an absolutely trivial +nature. + +Jack. Well, the only small satisfaction I have in the whole of this +wretched business is that your friend Bunbury is quite exploded. You +won't be able to run down to the country quite so often as you used to +do, dear Algy. And a very good thing too. + +Algernon. Your brother is a little off colour, isn't he, dear Jack? You +won't be able to disappear to London quite so frequently as your wicked +custom was. And not a bad thing either. + +Jack. As for your conduct towards Miss Cardew, I must say that your +taking in a sweet, simple, innocent girl like that is quite inexcusable. +To say nothing of the fact that she is my ward. + +Algernon. I can see no possible defence at all for your deceiving a +brilliant, clever, thoroughly experienced young lady like Miss Fairfax. +To say nothing of the fact that she is my cousin. + +Jack. I wanted to be engaged to Gwendolen, that is all. I love her. + +Algernon. Well, I simply wanted to be engaged to Cecily. I adore her. + +Jack. There is certainly no chance of your marrying Miss Cardew. + +Algernon. I don't think there is much likelihood, Jack, of you and Miss +Fairfax being united. + +Jack. Well, that is no business of yours. + +Algernon. If it was my business, I wouldn't talk about it. [Begins to +eat muffins.] It is very vulgar to talk about one's business. Only +people like stock-brokers do that, and then merely at dinner parties. + +Jack. How can you sit there, calmly eating muffins when we are in this +horrible trouble, I can't make out. You seem to me to be perfectly +heartless. + +Algernon. Well, I can't eat muffins in an agitated manner. The butter +would probably get on my cuffs. One should always eat muffins quite +calmly. It is the only way to eat them. + +Jack. I say it's perfectly heartless your eating muffins at all, under +the circumstances. + +Algernon. When I am in trouble, eating is the only thing that consoles +me. Indeed, when I am in really great trouble, as any one who knows me +intimately will tell you, I refuse everything except food and drink. At +the present moment I am eating muffins because I am unhappy. Besides, I +am particularly fond of muffins. [Rising.] + +Jack. [Rising.] Well, that is no reason why you should eat them all in +that greedy way. [Takes muffins from Algernon.] + +Algernon. [Offering tea-cake.] I wish you would have tea-cake instead. +I don't like tea-cake. + +Jack. Good heavens! I suppose a man may eat his own muffins in his own +garden. + +Algernon. But you have just said it was perfectly heartless to eat +muffins. + +Jack. I said it was perfectly heartless of you, under the circumstances. +That is a very different thing. + +Algernon. That may be. But the muffins are the same. [He seizes the +muffin-dish from Jack.] + +Jack. Algy, I wish to goodness you would go. + +Algernon. You can't possibly ask me to go without having some dinner. +It's absurd. I never go without my dinner. No one ever does, except +vegetarians and people like that. Besides I have just made arrangements +with Dr. Chasuble to be christened at a quarter to six under the name of +Ernest. + +Jack. My dear fellow, the sooner you give up that nonsense the better. I +made arrangements this morning with Dr. Chasuble to be christened myself +at 5.30, and I naturally will take the name of Ernest. Gwendolen would +wish it. We can't both be christened Ernest. It's absurd. Besides, I +have a perfect right to be christened if I like. There is no evidence at +all that I have ever been christened by anybody. I should think it +extremely probable I never was, and so does Dr. Chasuble. It is entirely +different in your case. You have been christened already. + +Algernon. Yes, but I have not been christened for years. + +Jack. Yes, but you have been christened. That is the important thing. + +Algernon. Quite so. So I know my constitution can stand it. If you are +not quite sure about your ever having been christened, I must say I think +it rather dangerous your venturing on it now. It might make you very +unwell. You can hardly have forgotten that some one very closely +connected with you was very nearly carried off this week in Paris by a +severe chill. + +Jack. Yes, but you said yourself that a severe chill was not hereditary. + +Algernon. It usen't to be, I know--but I daresay it is now. Science is +always making wonderful improvements in things. + +Jack. [Picking up the muffin-dish.] Oh, that is nonsense; you are +always talking nonsense. + +Algernon. Jack, you are at the muffins again! I wish you wouldn't. +There are only two left. [Takes them.] I told you I was particularly +fond of muffins. + +Jack. But I hate tea-cake. + +Algernon. Why on earth then do you allow tea-cake to be served up for +your guests? What ideas you have of hospitality! + +Jack. Algernon! I have already told you to go. I don't want you here. +Why don't you go! + +Algernon. I haven't quite finished my tea yet! and there is still one +muffin left. [Jack groans, and sinks into a chair. Algernon still +continues eating.] + +ACT DROP + + + + +THIRD ACT + + +SCENE + + +Morning-room at the Manor House. + +[Gwendolen and Cecily are at the window, looking out into the garden.] + +Gwendolen. The fact that they did not follow us at once into the house, +as any one else would have done, seems to me to show that they have some +sense of shame left. + +Cecily. They have been eating muffins. That looks like repentance. + +Gwendolen. [After a pause.] They don't seem to notice us at all. +Couldn't you cough? + +Cecily. But I haven't got a cough. + +Gwendolen. They're looking at us. What effrontery! + +Cecily. They're approaching. That's very forward of them. + +Gwendolen. Let us preserve a dignified silence. + +Cecily. Certainly. It's the only thing to do now. [Enter Jack followed +by Algernon. They whistle some dreadful popular air from a British +Opera.] + +Gwendolen. This dignified silence seems to produce an unpleasant effect. + +Cecily. A most distasteful one. + +Gwendolen. But we will not be the first to speak. + +Cecily. Certainly not. + +Gwendolen. Mr. Worthing, I have something very particular to ask you. +Much depends on your reply. + +Cecily. Gwendolen, your common sense is invaluable. Mr. Moncrieff, +kindly answer me the following question. Why did you pretend to be my +guardian's brother? + +Algernon. In order that I might have an opportunity of meeting you. + +Cecily. [To Gwendolen.] That certainly seems a satisfactory +explanation, does it not? + +Gwendolen. Yes, dear, if you can believe him. + +Cecily. I don't. But that does not affect the wonderful beauty of his +answer. + +Gwendolen. True. In matters of grave importance, style, not sincerity +is the vital thing. Mr. Worthing, what explanation can you offer to me +for pretending to have a brother? Was it in order that you might have an +opportunity of coming up to town to see me as often as possible? + +Jack. Can you doubt it, Miss Fairfax? + +Gwendolen. I have the gravest doubts upon the subject. But I intend to +crush them. This is not the moment for German scepticism. [Moving to +Cecily.] Their explanations appear to be quite satisfactory, especially +Mr. Worthing's. That seems to me to have the stamp of truth upon it. + +Cecily. I am more than content with what Mr. Moncrieff said. His voice +alone inspires one with absolute credulity. + +Gwendolen. Then you think we should forgive them? + +Cecily. Yes. I mean no. + +Gwendolen. True! I had forgotten. There are principles at stake that +one cannot surrender. Which of us should tell them? The task is not a +pleasant one. + +Cecily. Could we not both speak at the same time? + +Gwendolen. An excellent idea! I nearly always speak at the same time as +other people. Will you take the time from me? + +Cecily. Certainly. [Gwendolen beats time with uplifted finger.] + +Gwendolen and Cecily [Speaking together.] Your Christian names are still +an insuperable barrier. That is all! + +Jack and Algernon [Speaking together.] Our Christian names! Is that +all? But we are going to be christened this afternoon. + +Gwendolen. [To Jack.] For my sake you are prepared to do this terrible +thing? + +Jack. I am. + +Cecily. [To Algernon.] To please me you are ready to face this fearful +ordeal? + +Algernon. I am! + +Gwendolen. How absurd to talk of the equality of the sexes! Where +questions of self-sacrifice are concerned, men are infinitely beyond us. + +Jack. We are. [Clasps hands with Algernon.] + +Cecily. They have moments of physical courage of which we women know +absolutely nothing. + +Gwendolen. [To Jack.] Darling! + +Algernon. [To Cecily.] Darling! [They fall into each other's arms.] + +[Enter Merriman. When he enters he coughs loudly, seeing the situation.] + +Merriman. Ahem! Ahem! Lady Bracknell! + +Jack. Good heavens! + +[Enter Lady Bracknell. The couples separate in alarm. Exit Merriman.] + +Lady Bracknell. Gwendolen! What does this mean? + +Gwendolen. Merely that I am engaged to be married to Mr. Worthing, +mamma. + +Lady Bracknell. Come here. Sit down. Sit down immediately. Hesitation +of any kind is a sign of mental decay in the young, of physical weakness +in the old. [Turns to Jack.] Apprised, sir, of my daughter's sudden +flight by her trusty maid, whose confidence I purchased by means of a +small coin, I followed her at once by a luggage train. Her unhappy +father is, I am glad to say, under the impression that she is attending a +more than usually lengthy lecture by the University Extension Scheme on +the Influence of a permanent income on Thought. I do not propose to +undeceive him. Indeed I have never undeceived him on any question. I +would consider it wrong. But of course, you will clearly understand that +all communication between yourself and my daughter must cease immediately +from this moment. On this point, as indeed on all points, I am firm. + +Jack. I am engaged to be married to Gwendolen Lady Bracknell! + +Lady Bracknell. You are nothing of the kind, sir. And now, as regards +Algernon! . . . Algernon! + +Algernon. Yes, Aunt Augusta. + +Lady Bracknell. May I ask if it is in this house that your invalid +friend Mr. Bunbury resides? + +Algernon. [Stammering.] Oh! No! Bunbury doesn't live here. Bunbury +is somewhere else at present. In fact, Bunbury is dead. + +Lady Bracknell. Dead! When did Mr. Bunbury die? His death must have +been extremely sudden. + +Algernon. [Airily.] Oh! I killed Bunbury this afternoon. I mean poor +Bunbury died this afternoon. + +Lady Bracknell. What did he die of? + +Algernon. Bunbury? Oh, he was quite exploded. + +Lady Bracknell. Exploded! Was he the victim of a revolutionary outrage? +I was not aware that Mr. Bunbury was interested in social legislation. If +so, he is well punished for his morbidity. + +Algernon. My dear Aunt Augusta, I mean he was found out! The doctors +found out that Bunbury could not live, that is what I mean--so Bunbury +died. + +Lady Bracknell. He seems to have had great confidence in the opinion of +his physicians. I am glad, however, that he made up his mind at the last +to some definite course of action, and acted under proper medical advice. +And now that we have finally got rid of this Mr. Bunbury, may I ask, Mr. +Worthing, who is that young person whose hand my nephew Algernon is now +holding in what seems to me a peculiarly unnecessary manner? + +Jack. That lady is Miss Cecily Cardew, my ward. [Lady Bracknell bows +coldly to Cecily.] + +Algernon. I am engaged to be married to Cecily, Aunt Augusta. + +Lady Bracknell. I beg your pardon? + +Cecily. Mr. Moncrieff and I are engaged to be married, Lady Bracknell. + +Lady Bracknell. [With a shiver, crossing to the sofa and sitting down.] +I do not know whether there is anything peculiarly exciting in the air of +this particular part of Hertfordshire, but the number of engagements that +go on seems to me considerably above the proper average that statistics +have laid down for our guidance. I think some preliminary inquiry on my +part would not be out of place. Mr. Worthing, is Miss Cardew at all +connected with any of the larger railway stations in London? I merely +desire information. Until yesterday I had no idea that there were any +families or persons whose origin was a Terminus. [Jack looks perfectly +furious, but restrains himself.] + +Jack. [In a clear, cold voice.] Miss Cardew is the grand-daughter of +the late Mr. Thomas Cardew of 149 Belgrave Square, S.W.; Gervase Park, +Dorking, Surrey; and the Sporran, Fifeshire, N.B. + +Lady Bracknell. That sounds not unsatisfactory. Three addresses always +inspire confidence, even in tradesmen. But what proof have I of their +authenticity? + +Jack. I have carefully preserved the Court Guides of the period. They +are open to your inspection, Lady Bracknell. + +Lady Bracknell. [Grimly.] I have known strange errors in that +publication. + +Jack. Miss Cardew's family solicitors are Messrs. Markby, Markby, and +Markby. + +Lady Bracknell. Markby, Markby, and Markby? A firm of the very highest +position in their profession. Indeed I am told that one of the Mr. +Markby's is occasionally to be seen at dinner parties. So far I am +satisfied. + +Jack. [Very irritably.] How extremely kind of you, Lady Bracknell! I +have also in my possession, you will be pleased to hear, certificates of +Miss Cardew's birth, baptism, whooping cough, registration, vaccination, +confirmation, and the measles; both the German and the English variety. + +Lady Bracknell. Ah! A life crowded with incident, I see; though perhaps +somewhat too exciting for a young girl. I am not myself in favour of +premature experiences. [Rises, looks at her watch.] Gwendolen! the time +approaches for our departure. We have not a moment to lose. As a matter +of form, Mr. Worthing, I had better ask you if Miss Cardew has any little +fortune? + +Jack. Oh! about a hundred and thirty thousand pounds in the Funds. That +is all. Goodbye, Lady Bracknell. So pleased to have seen you. + +Lady Bracknell. [Sitting down again.] A moment, Mr. Worthing. A +hundred and thirty thousand pounds! And in the Funds! Miss Cardew seems +to me a most attractive young lady, now that I look at her. Few girls of +the present day have any really solid qualities, any of the qualities +that last, and improve with time. We live, I regret to say, in an age of +surfaces. [To Cecily.] Come over here, dear. [Cecily goes across.] +Pretty child! your dress is sadly simple, and your hair seems almost as +Nature might have left it. But we can soon alter all that. A thoroughly +experienced French maid produces a really marvellous result in a very +brief space of time. I remember recommending one to young Lady Lancing, +and after three months her own husband did not know her. + +Jack. And after six months nobody knew her. + +Lady Bracknell. [Glares at Jack for a few moments. Then bends, with a +practised smile, to Cecily.] Kindly turn round, sweet child. [Cecily +turns completely round.] No, the side view is what I want. [Cecily +presents her profile.] Yes, quite as I expected. There are distinct +social possibilities in your profile. The two weak points in our age are +its want of principle and its want of profile. The chin a little higher, +dear. Style largely depends on the way the chin is worn. They are worn +very high, just at present. Algernon! + +Algernon. Yes, Aunt Augusta! + +Lady Bracknell. There are distinct social possibilities in Miss Cardew's +profile. + +Algernon. Cecily is the sweetest, dearest, prettiest girl in the whole +world. And I don't care twopence about social possibilities. + +Lady Bracknell. Never speak disrespectfully of Society, Algernon. Only +people who can't get into it do that. [To Cecily.] Dear child, of +course you know that Algernon has nothing but his debts to depend upon. +But I do not approve of mercenary marriages. When I married Lord +Bracknell I had no fortune of any kind. But I never dreamed for a moment +of allowing that to stand in my way. Well, I suppose I must give my +consent. + +Algernon. Thank you, Aunt Augusta. + +Lady Bracknell. Cecily, you may kiss me! + +Cecily. [Kisses her.] Thank you, Lady Bracknell. + +Lady Bracknell. You may also address me as Aunt Augusta for the future. + +Cecily. Thank you, Aunt Augusta. + +Lady Bracknell. The marriage, I think, had better take place quite soon. + +Algernon. Thank you, Aunt Augusta. + +Cecily. Thank you, Aunt Augusta. + +Lady Bracknell. To speak frankly, I am not in favour of long +engagements. They give people the opportunity of finding out each +other's character before marriage, which I think is never advisable. + +Jack. I beg your pardon for interrupting you, Lady Bracknell, but this +engagement is quite out of the question. I am Miss Cardew's guardian, +and she cannot marry without my consent until she comes of age. That +consent I absolutely decline to give. + +Lady Bracknell. Upon what grounds may I ask? Algernon is an extremely, +I may almost say an ostentatiously, eligible young man. He has nothing, +but he looks everything. What more can one desire? + +Jack. It pains me very much to have to speak frankly to you, Lady +Bracknell, about your nephew, but the fact is that I do not approve at +all of his moral character. I suspect him of being untruthful. [Algernon +and Cecily look at him in indignant amazement.] + +Lady Bracknell. Untruthful! My nephew Algernon? Impossible! He is an +Oxonian. + +Jack. I fear there can be no possible doubt about the matter. This +afternoon during my temporary absence in London on an important question +of romance, he obtained admission to my house by means of the false +pretence of being my brother. Under an assumed name he drank, I've just +been informed by my butler, an entire pint bottle of my Perrier-Jouet, +Brut, '89; wine I was specially reserving for myself. Continuing his +disgraceful deception, he succeeded in the course of the afternoon in +alienating the affections of my only ward. He subsequently stayed to +tea, and devoured every single muffin. And what makes his conduct all +the more heartless is, that he was perfectly well aware from the first +that I have no brother, that I never had a brother, and that I don't +intend to have a brother, not even of any kind. I distinctly told him so +myself yesterday afternoon. + +Lady Bracknell. Ahem! Mr. Worthing, after careful consideration I have +decided entirely to overlook my nephew's conduct to you. + +Jack. That is very generous of you, Lady Bracknell. My own decision, +however, is unalterable. I decline to give my consent. + +Lady Bracknell. [To Cecily.] Come here, sweet child. [Cecily goes +over.] How old are you, dear? + +Cecily. Well, I am really only eighteen, but I always admit to twenty +when I go to evening parties. + +Lady Bracknell. You are perfectly right in making some slight +alteration. Indeed, no woman should ever be quite accurate about her +age. It looks so calculating . . . [In a meditative manner.] Eighteen, +but admitting to twenty at evening parties. Well, it will not be very +long before you are of age and free from the restraints of tutelage. So +I don't think your guardian's consent is, after all, a matter of any +importance. + +Jack. Pray excuse me, Lady Bracknell, for interrupting you again, but it +is only fair to tell you that according to the terms of her grandfather's +will Miss Cardew does not come legally of age till she is thirty-five. + +Lady Bracknell. That does not seem to me to be a grave objection. Thirty- +five is a very attractive age. London society is full of women of the +very highest birth who have, of their own free choice, remained thirty- +five for years. Lady Dumbleton is an instance in point. To my own +knowledge she has been thirty-five ever since she arrived at the age of +forty, which was many years ago now. I see no reason why our dear Cecily +should not be even still more attractive at the age you mention than she +is at present. There will be a large accumulation of property. + +Cecily. Algy, could you wait for me till I was thirty-five? + +Algernon. Of course I could, Cecily. You know I could. + +Cecily. Yes, I felt it instinctively, but I couldn't wait all that time. +I hate waiting even five minutes for anybody. It always makes me rather +cross. I am not punctual myself, I know, but I do like punctuality in +others, and waiting, even to be married, is quite out of the question. + +Algernon. Then what is to be done, Cecily? + +Cecily. I don't know, Mr. Moncrieff. + +Lady Bracknell. My dear Mr. Worthing, as Miss Cardew states positively +that she cannot wait till she is thirty-five--a remark which I am bound +to say seems to me to show a somewhat impatient nature--I would beg of +you to reconsider your decision. + +Jack. But my dear Lady Bracknell, the matter is entirely in your own +hands. The moment you consent to my marriage with Gwendolen, I will most +gladly allow your nephew to form an alliance with my ward. + +Lady Bracknell. [Rising and drawing herself up.] You must be quite +aware that what you propose is out of the question. + +Jack. Then a passionate celibacy is all that any of us can look forward +to. + +Lady Bracknell. That is not the destiny I propose for Gwendolen. +Algernon, of course, can choose for himself. [Pulls out her watch.] +Come, dear, [Gwendolen rises] we have already missed five, if not six, +trains. To miss any more might expose us to comment on the platform. + +[Enter Dr. Chasuble.] + +Chasuble. Everything is quite ready for the christenings. + +Lady Bracknell. The christenings, sir! Is not that somewhat premature? + +Chasuble. [Looking rather puzzled, and pointing to Jack and Algernon.] +Both these gentlemen have expressed a desire for immediate baptism. + +Lady Bracknell. At their age? The idea is grotesque and irreligious! +Algernon, I forbid you to be baptized. I will not hear of such excesses. +Lord Bracknell would be highly displeased if he learned that that was the +way in which you wasted your time and money. + +Chasuble. Am I to understand then that there are to be no christenings +at all this afternoon? + +Jack. I don't think that, as things are now, it would be of much +practical value to either of us, Dr. Chasuble. + +Chasuble. I am grieved to hear such sentiments from you, Mr. Worthing. +They savour of the heretical views of the Anabaptists, views that I have +completely refuted in four of my unpublished sermons. However, as your +present mood seems to be one peculiarly secular, I will return to the +church at once. Indeed, I have just been informed by the pew-opener that +for the last hour and a half Miss Prism has been waiting for me in the +vestry. + +Lady Bracknell. [Starting.] Miss Prism! Did I hear you mention a Miss +Prism? + +Chasuble. Yes, Lady Bracknell. I am on my way to join her. + +Lady Bracknell. Pray allow me to detain you for a moment. This matter +may prove to be one of vital importance to Lord Bracknell and myself. Is +this Miss Prism a female of repellent aspect, remotely connected with +education? + +Chasuble. [Somewhat indignantly.] She is the most cultivated of ladies, +and the very picture of respectability. + +Lady Bracknell. It is obviously the same person. May I ask what +position she holds in your household? + +Chasuble. [Severely.] I am a celibate, madam. + +Jack. [Interposing.] Miss Prism, Lady Bracknell, has been for the last +three years Miss Cardew's esteemed governess and valued companion. + +Lady Bracknell. In spite of what I hear of her, I must see her at once. +Let her be sent for. + +Chasuble. [Looking off.] She approaches; she is nigh. + +[Enter Miss Prism hurriedly.] + +Miss Prism. I was told you expected me in the vestry, dear Canon. I +have been waiting for you there for an hour and three-quarters. [Catches +sight of Lady Bracknell, who has fixed her with a stony glare. Miss +Prism grows pale and quails. She looks anxiously round as if desirous to +escape.] + +Lady Bracknell. [In a severe, judicial voice.] Prism! [Miss Prism bows +her head in shame.] Come here, Prism! [Miss Prism approaches in a +humble manner.] Prism! Where is that baby? [General consternation. The +Canon starts back in horror. Algernon and Jack pretend to be anxious to +shield Cecily and Gwendolen from hearing the details of a terrible public +scandal.] Twenty-eight years ago, Prism, you left Lord Bracknell's +house, Number 104, Upper Grosvenor Street, in charge of a perambulator +that contained a baby of the male sex. You never returned. A few weeks +later, through the elaborate investigations of the Metropolitan police, +the perambulator was discovered at midnight, standing by itself in a +remote corner of Bayswater. It contained the manuscript of a +three-volume novel of more than usually revolting sentimentality. [Miss +Prism starts in involuntary indignation.] But the baby was not there! +[Every one looks at Miss Prism.] Prism! Where is that baby? [A pause.] + +Miss Prism. Lady Bracknell, I admit with shame that I do not know. I +only wish I did. The plain facts of the case are these. On the morning +of the day you mention, a day that is for ever branded on my memory, I +prepared as usual to take the baby out in its perambulator. I had also +with me a somewhat old, but capacious hand-bag in which I had intended to +place the manuscript of a work of fiction that I had written during my +few unoccupied hours. In a moment of mental abstraction, for which I +never can forgive myself, I deposited the manuscript in the basinette, +and placed the baby in the hand-bag. + +Jack. [Who has been listening attentively.] But where did you deposit +the hand-bag? + +Miss Prism. Do not ask me, Mr. Worthing. + +Jack. Miss Prism, this is a matter of no small importance to me. I +insist on knowing where you deposited the hand-bag that contained that +infant. + +Miss Prism. I left it in the cloak-room of one of the larger railway +stations in London. + +Jack. What railway station? + +Miss Prism. [Quite crushed.] Victoria. The Brighton line. [Sinks into +a chair.] + +Jack. I must retire to my room for a moment. Gwendolen, wait here for +me. + +Gwendolen. If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my +life. [Exit Jack in great excitement.] + +Chasuble. What do you think this means, Lady Bracknell? + +Lady Bracknell. I dare not even suspect, Dr. Chasuble. I need hardly +tell you that in families of high position strange coincidences are not +supposed to occur. They are hardly considered the thing. + +[Noises heard overhead as if some one was throwing trunks about. Every +one looks up.] + +Cecily. Uncle Jack seems strangely agitated. + +Chasuble. Your guardian has a very emotional nature. + +Lady Bracknell. This noise is extremely unpleasant. It sounds as if he +was having an argument. I dislike arguments of any kind. They are +always vulgar, and often convincing. + +Chasuble. [Looking up.] It has stopped now. [The noise is redoubled.] + +Lady Bracknell. I wish he would arrive at some conclusion. + +Gwendolen. This suspense is terrible. I hope it will last. [Enter Jack +with a hand-bag of black leather in his hand.] + +Jack. [Rushing over to Miss Prism.] Is this the hand-bag, Miss Prism? +Examine it carefully before you speak. The happiness of more than one +life depends on your answer. + +Miss Prism. [Calmly.] It seems to be mine. Yes, here is the injury it +received through the upsetting of a Gower Street omnibus in younger and +happier days. Here is the stain on the lining caused by the explosion of +a temperance beverage, an incident that occurred at Leamington. And +here, on the lock, are my initials. I had forgotten that in an +extravagant mood I had had them placed there. The bag is undoubtedly +mine. I am delighted to have it so unexpectedly restored to me. It has +been a great inconvenience being without it all these years. + +Jack. [In a pathetic voice.] Miss Prism, more is restored to you than +this hand-bag. I was the baby you placed in it. + +Miss Prism. [Amazed.] You? + +Jack. [Embracing her.] Yes . . . mother! + +Miss Prism. [Recoiling in indignant astonishment.] Mr. Worthing! I am +unmarried! + +Jack. Unmarried! I do not deny that is a serious blow. But after all, +who has the right to cast a stone against one who has suffered? Cannot +repentance wipe out an act of folly? Why should there be one law for +men, and another for women? Mother, I forgive you. [Tries to embrace +her again.] + +Miss Prism. [Still more indignant.] Mr. Worthing, there is some error. +[Pointing to Lady Bracknell.] There is the lady who can tell you who you +really are. + +Jack. [After a pause.] Lady Bracknell, I hate to seem inquisitive, but +would you kindly inform me who I am? + +Lady Bracknell. I am afraid that the news I have to give you will not +altogether please you. You are the son of my poor sister, Mrs. +Moncrieff, and consequently Algernon's elder brother. + +Jack. Algy's elder brother! Then I have a brother after all. I knew I +had a brother! I always said I had a brother! Cecily,--how could you +have ever doubted that I had a brother? [Seizes hold of Algernon.] Dr. +Chasuble, my unfortunate brother. Miss Prism, my unfortunate brother. +Gwendolen, my unfortunate brother. Algy, you young scoundrel, you will +have to treat me with more respect in the future. You have never behaved +to me like a brother in all your life. + +Algernon. Well, not till to-day, old boy, I admit. I did my best, +however, though I was out of practice. + +[Shakes hands.] + +Gwendolen. [To Jack.] My own! But what own are you? What is your +Christian name, now that you have become some one else? + +Jack. Good heavens! . . . I had quite forgotten that point. Your +decision on the subject of my name is irrevocable, I suppose? + +Gwendolen. I never change, except in my affections. + +Cecily. What a noble nature you have, Gwendolen! + +Jack. Then the question had better be cleared up at once. Aunt Augusta, +a moment. At the time when Miss Prism left me in the hand-bag, had I +been christened already? + +Lady Bracknell. Every luxury that money could buy, including +christening, had been lavished on you by your fond and doting parents. + +Jack. Then I was christened! That is settled. Now, what name was I +given? Let me know the worst. + +Lady Bracknell. Being the eldest son you were naturally christened after +your father. + +Jack. [Irritably.] Yes, but what was my father's Christian name? + +Lady Bracknell. [Meditatively.] I cannot at the present moment recall +what the General's Christian name was. But I have no doubt he had one. +He was eccentric, I admit. But only in later years. And that was the +result of the Indian climate, and marriage, and indigestion, and other +things of that kind. + +Jack. Algy! Can't you recollect what our father's Christian name was? + +Algernon. My dear boy, we were never even on speaking terms. He died +before I was a year old. + +Jack. His name would appear in the Army Lists of the period, I suppose, +Aunt Augusta? + +Lady Bracknell. The General was essentially a man of peace, except in +his domestic life. But I have no doubt his name would appear in any +military directory. + +Jack. The Army Lists of the last forty years are here. These delightful +records should have been my constant study. [Rushes to bookcase and +tears the books out.] M. Generals . . . Mallam, Maxbohm, Magley, what +ghastly names they have--Markby, Migsby, Mobbs, Moncrieff! Lieutenant +1840, Captain, Lieutenant-Colonel, Colonel, General 1869, Christian +names, Ernest John. [Puts book very quietly down and speaks quite +calmly.] I always told you, Gwendolen, my name was Ernest, didn't I? +Well, it is Ernest after all. I mean it naturally is Ernest. + +Lady Bracknell. Yes, I remember now that the General was called Ernest, +I knew I had some particular reason for disliking the name. + +Gwendolen. Ernest! My own Ernest! I felt from the first that you could +have no other name! + +Jack. Gwendolen, it is a terrible thing for a man to find out suddenly +that all his life he has been speaking nothing but the truth. Can you +forgive me? + +Gwendolen. I can. For I feel that you are sure to change. + +Jack. My own one! + +Chasuble. [To Miss Prism.] Laetitia! [Embraces her] + +Miss Prism. [Enthusiastically.] Frederick! At last! + +Algernon. Cecily! [Embraces her.] At last! + +Jack. Gwendolen! [Embraces her.] At last! + +Lady Bracknell. My nephew, you seem to be displaying signs of +triviality. + +Jack. On the contrary, Aunt Augusta, I've now realised for the first +time in my life the vital Importance of Being Earnest. + +TABLEAU + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST*** + + +******* This file should be named 844.txt or 844.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/8/4/844 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/src/main/pg-dorian_gray.txt b/src/main/pg-dorian_gray.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1c5880c --- /dev/null +++ b/src/main/pg-dorian_gray.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8904 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net + + +Title: The Picture of Dorian Gray + +Author: Oscar Wilde + +Release Date: June 9, 2008 [EBook #174] +[This file last updated on July 2, 2011] +[This file last updated on July 23, 2014] + + +Language: English + + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY *** + + + + +Produced by Judith Boss. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + + + + + +The Picture of Dorian Gray + +by + +Oscar Wilde + + + + +THE PREFACE + +The artist is the creator of beautiful things. To reveal art and +conceal the artist is art's aim. The critic is he who can translate +into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful +things. + +The highest as the lowest form of criticism is a mode of autobiography. +Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without +being charming. This is a fault. + +Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the +cultivated. For these there is hope. They are the elect to whom +beautiful things mean only beauty. + +There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well +written, or badly written. That is all. + +The nineteenth century dislike of realism is the rage of Caliban seeing +his own face in a glass. + +The nineteenth century dislike of romanticism is the rage of Caliban +not seeing his own face in a glass. The moral life of man forms part +of the subject-matter of the artist, but the morality of art consists +in the perfect use of an imperfect medium. No artist desires to prove +anything. Even things that are true can be proved. No artist has +ethical sympathies. An ethical sympathy in an artist is an +unpardonable mannerism of style. No artist is ever morbid. The artist +can express everything. Thought and language are to the artist +instruments of an art. Vice and virtue are to the artist materials for +an art. From the point of view of form, the type of all the arts is +the art of the musician. From the point of view of feeling, the +actor's craft is the type. All art is at once surface and symbol. +Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. Those who read +the symbol do so at their peril. It is the spectator, and not life, +that art really mirrors. Diversity of opinion about a work of art +shows that the work is new, complex, and vital. When critics disagree, +the artist is in accord with himself. We can forgive a man for making +a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for +making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely. + + All art is quite useless. + + OSCAR WILDE + + + + +CHAPTER 1 + +The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light +summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, there came through +the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate +perfume of the pink-flowering thorn. + +From the corner of the divan of Persian saddle-bags on which he was +lying, smoking, as was his custom, innumerable cigarettes, Lord Henry +Wotton could just catch the gleam of the honey-sweet and honey-coloured +blossoms of a laburnum, whose tremulous branches seemed hardly able to +bear the burden of a beauty so flamelike as theirs; and now and then +the fantastic shadows of birds in flight flitted across the long +tussore-silk curtains that were stretched in front of the huge window, +producing a kind of momentary Japanese effect, and making him think of +those pallid, jade-faced painters of Tokyo who, through the medium of +an art that is necessarily immobile, seek to convey the sense of +swiftness and motion. The sullen murmur of the bees shouldering their +way through the long unmown grass, or circling with monotonous +insistence round the dusty gilt horns of the straggling woodbine, +seemed to make the stillness more oppressive. The dim roar of London +was like the bourdon note of a distant organ. + +In the centre of the room, clamped to an upright easel, stood the +full-length portrait of a young man of extraordinary personal beauty, +and in front of it, some little distance away, was sitting the artist +himself, Basil Hallward, whose sudden disappearance some years ago +caused, at the time, such public excitement and gave rise to so many +strange conjectures. + +As the painter looked at the gracious and comely form he had so +skilfully mirrored in his art, a smile of pleasure passed across his +face, and seemed about to linger there. But he suddenly started up, +and closing his eyes, placed his fingers upon the lids, as though he +sought to imprison within his brain some curious dream from which he +feared he might awake. + +"It is your best work, Basil, the best thing you have ever done," said +Lord Henry languidly. "You must certainly send it next year to the +Grosvenor. The Academy is too large and too vulgar. Whenever I have +gone there, there have been either so many people that I have not been +able to see the pictures, which was dreadful, or so many pictures that +I have not been able to see the people, which was worse. The Grosvenor +is really the only place." + +"I don't think I shall send it anywhere," he answered, tossing his head +back in that odd way that used to make his friends laugh at him at +Oxford. "No, I won't send it anywhere." + +Lord Henry elevated his eyebrows and looked at him in amazement through +the thin blue wreaths of smoke that curled up in such fanciful whorls +from his heavy, opium-tainted cigarette. "Not send it anywhere? My +dear fellow, why? Have you any reason? What odd chaps you painters +are! You do anything in the world to gain a reputation. As soon as +you have one, you seem to want to throw it away. It is silly of you, +for there is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, +and that is not being talked about. A portrait like this would set you +far above all the young men in England, and make the old men quite +jealous, if old men are ever capable of any emotion." + +"I know you will laugh at me," he replied, "but I really can't exhibit +it. I have put too much of myself into it." + +Lord Henry stretched himself out on the divan and laughed. + +"Yes, I knew you would; but it is quite true, all the same." + +"Too much of yourself in it! Upon my word, Basil, I didn't know you +were so vain; and I really can't see any resemblance between you, with +your rugged strong face and your coal-black hair, and this young +Adonis, who looks as if he was made out of ivory and rose-leaves. Why, +my dear Basil, he is a Narcissus, and you--well, of course you have an +intellectual expression and all that. But beauty, real beauty, ends +where an intellectual expression begins. Intellect is in itself a mode +of exaggeration, and destroys the harmony of any face. The moment one +sits down to think, one becomes all nose, or all forehead, or something +horrid. Look at the successful men in any of the learned professions. +How perfectly hideous they are! Except, of course, in the Church. But +then in the Church they don't think. A bishop keeps on saying at the +age of eighty what he was told to say when he was a boy of eighteen, +and as a natural consequence he always looks absolutely delightful. +Your mysterious young friend, whose name you have never told me, but +whose picture really fascinates me, never thinks. I feel quite sure of +that. He is some brainless beautiful creature who should be always +here in winter when we have no flowers to look at, and always here in +summer when we want something to chill our intelligence. Don't flatter +yourself, Basil: you are not in the least like him." + +"You don't understand me, Harry," answered the artist. "Of course I am +not like him. I know that perfectly well. Indeed, I should be sorry +to look like him. You shrug your shoulders? I am telling you the +truth. There is a fatality about all physical and intellectual +distinction, the sort of fatality that seems to dog through history the +faltering steps of kings. It is better not to be different from one's +fellows. The ugly and the stupid have the best of it in this world. +They can sit at their ease and gape at the play. If they know nothing +of victory, they are at least spared the knowledge of defeat. They +live as we all should live--undisturbed, indifferent, and without +disquiet. They neither bring ruin upon others, nor ever receive it +from alien hands. Your rank and wealth, Harry; my brains, such as they +are--my art, whatever it may be worth; Dorian Gray's good looks--we +shall all suffer for what the gods have given us, suffer terribly." + +"Dorian Gray? Is that his name?" asked Lord Henry, walking across the +studio towards Basil Hallward. + +"Yes, that is his name. I didn't intend to tell it to you." + +"But why not?" + +"Oh, I can't explain. When I like people immensely, I never tell their +names to any one. It is like surrendering a part of them. I have +grown to love secrecy. It seems to be the one thing that can make +modern life mysterious or marvellous to us. The commonest thing is +delightful if one only hides it. When I leave town now I never tell my +people where I am going. If I did, I would lose all my pleasure. It +is a silly habit, I dare say, but somehow it seems to bring a great +deal of romance into one's life. I suppose you think me awfully +foolish about it?" + +"Not at all," answered Lord Henry, "not at all, my dear Basil. You +seem to forget that I am married, and the one charm of marriage is that +it makes a life of deception absolutely necessary for both parties. I +never know where my wife is, and my wife never knows what I am doing. +When we meet--we do meet occasionally, when we dine out together, or go +down to the Duke's--we tell each other the most absurd stories with the +most serious faces. My wife is very good at it--much better, in fact, +than I am. She never gets confused over her dates, and I always do. +But when she does find me out, she makes no row at all. I sometimes +wish she would; but she merely laughs at me." + +"I hate the way you talk about your married life, Harry," said Basil +Hallward, strolling towards the door that led into the garden. "I +believe that you are really a very good husband, but that you are +thoroughly ashamed of your own virtues. You are an extraordinary +fellow. You never say a moral thing, and you never do a wrong thing. +Your cynicism is simply a pose." + +"Being natural is simply a pose, and the most irritating pose I know," +cried Lord Henry, laughing; and the two young men went out into the +garden together and ensconced themselves on a long bamboo seat that +stood in the shade of a tall laurel bush. The sunlight slipped over +the polished leaves. In the grass, white daisies were tremulous. + +After a pause, Lord Henry pulled out his watch. "I am afraid I must be +going, Basil," he murmured, "and before I go, I insist on your +answering a question I put to you some time ago." + +"What is that?" said the painter, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. + +"You know quite well." + +"I do not, Harry." + +"Well, I will tell you what it is. I want you to explain to me why you +won't exhibit Dorian Gray's picture. I want the real reason." + +"I told you the real reason." + +"No, you did not. You said it was because there was too much of +yourself in it. Now, that is childish." + +"Harry," said Basil Hallward, looking him straight in the face, "every +portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not +of the sitter. The sitter is merely the accident, the occasion. It is +not he who is revealed by the painter; it is rather the painter who, on +the coloured canvas, reveals himself. The reason I will not exhibit +this picture is that I am afraid that I have shown in it the secret of +my own soul." + +Lord Henry laughed. "And what is that?" he asked. + +"I will tell you," said Hallward; but an expression of perplexity came +over his face. + +"I am all expectation, Basil," continued his companion, glancing at him. + +"Oh, there is really very little to tell, Harry," answered the painter; +"and I am afraid you will hardly understand it. Perhaps you will +hardly believe it." + +Lord Henry smiled, and leaning down, plucked a pink-petalled daisy from +the grass and examined it. "I am quite sure I shall understand it," he +replied, gazing intently at the little golden, white-feathered disk, +"and as for believing things, I can believe anything, provided that it +is quite incredible." + +The wind shook some blossoms from the trees, and the heavy +lilac-blooms, with their clustering stars, moved to and fro in the +languid air. A grasshopper began to chirrup by the wall, and like a +blue thread a long thin dragon-fly floated past on its brown gauze +wings. Lord Henry felt as if he could hear Basil Hallward's heart +beating, and wondered what was coming. + +"The story is simply this," said the painter after some time. "Two +months ago I went to a crush at Lady Brandon's. You know we poor +artists have to show ourselves in society from time to time, just to +remind the public that we are not savages. With an evening coat and a +white tie, as you told me once, anybody, even a stock-broker, can gain +a reputation for being civilized. Well, after I had been in the room +about ten minutes, talking to huge overdressed dowagers and tedious +academicians, I suddenly became conscious that some one was looking at +me. I turned half-way round and saw Dorian Gray for the first time. +When our eyes met, I felt that I was growing pale. A curious sensation +of terror came over me. I knew that I had come face to face with some +one whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if I allowed it to +do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art +itself. I did not want any external influence in my life. You know +yourself, Harry, how independent I am by nature. I have always been my +own master; had at least always been so, till I met Dorian Gray. +Then--but I don't know how to explain it to you. Something seemed to +tell me that I was on the verge of a terrible crisis in my life. I had +a strange feeling that fate had in store for me exquisite joys and +exquisite sorrows. I grew afraid and turned to quit the room. It was +not conscience that made me do so: it was a sort of cowardice. I take +no credit to myself for trying to escape." + +"Conscience and cowardice are really the same things, Basil. +Conscience is the trade-name of the firm. That is all." + +"I don't believe that, Harry, and I don't believe you do either. +However, whatever was my motive--and it may have been pride, for I used +to be very proud--I certainly struggled to the door. There, of course, +I stumbled against Lady Brandon. 'You are not going to run away so +soon, Mr. Hallward?' she screamed out. You know her curiously shrill +voice?" + +"Yes; she is a peacock in everything but beauty," said Lord Henry, +pulling the daisy to bits with his long nervous fingers. + +"I could not get rid of her. She brought me up to royalties, and +people with stars and garters, and elderly ladies with gigantic tiaras +and parrot noses. She spoke of me as her dearest friend. I had only +met her once before, but she took it into her head to lionize me. I +believe some picture of mine had made a great success at the time, at +least had been chattered about in the penny newspapers, which is the +nineteenth-century standard of immortality. Suddenly I found myself +face to face with the young man whose personality had so strangely +stirred me. We were quite close, almost touching. Our eyes met again. +It was reckless of me, but I asked Lady Brandon to introduce me to him. +Perhaps it was not so reckless, after all. It was simply inevitable. +We would have spoken to each other without any introduction. I am sure +of that. Dorian told me so afterwards. He, too, felt that we were +destined to know each other." + +"And how did Lady Brandon describe this wonderful young man?" asked his +companion. "I know she goes in for giving a rapid _precis_ of all her +guests. I remember her bringing me up to a truculent and red-faced old +gentleman covered all over with orders and ribbons, and hissing into my +ear, in a tragic whisper which must have been perfectly audible to +everybody in the room, the most astounding details. I simply fled. I +like to find out people for myself. But Lady Brandon treats her guests +exactly as an auctioneer treats his goods. She either explains them +entirely away, or tells one everything about them except what one wants +to know." + +"Poor Lady Brandon! You are hard on her, Harry!" said Hallward +listlessly. + +"My dear fellow, she tried to found a _salon_, and only succeeded in +opening a restaurant. How could I admire her? But tell me, what did +she say about Mr. Dorian Gray?" + +"Oh, something like, 'Charming boy--poor dear mother and I absolutely +inseparable. Quite forget what he does--afraid he--doesn't do +anything--oh, yes, plays the piano--or is it the violin, dear Mr. +Gray?' Neither of us could help laughing, and we became friends at +once." + +"Laughter is not at all a bad beginning for a friendship, and it is far +the best ending for one," said the young lord, plucking another daisy. + +Hallward shook his head. "You don't understand what friendship is, +Harry," he murmured--"or what enmity is, for that matter. You like +every one; that is to say, you are indifferent to every one." + +"How horribly unjust of you!" cried Lord Henry, tilting his hat back +and looking up at the little clouds that, like ravelled skeins of +glossy white silk, were drifting across the hollowed turquoise of the +summer sky. "Yes; horribly unjust of you. I make a great difference +between people. I choose my friends for their good looks, my +acquaintances for their good characters, and my enemies for their good +intellects. A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies. +I have not got one who is a fool. They are all men of some +intellectual power, and consequently they all appreciate me. Is that +very vain of me? I think it is rather vain." + +"I should think it was, Harry. But according to your category I must +be merely an acquaintance." + +"My dear old Basil, you are much more than an acquaintance." + +"And much less than a friend. A sort of brother, I suppose?" + +"Oh, brothers! I don't care for brothers. My elder brother won't die, +and my younger brothers seem never to do anything else." + +"Harry!" exclaimed Hallward, frowning. + +"My dear fellow, I am not quite serious. But I can't help detesting my +relations. I suppose it comes from the fact that none of us can stand +other people having the same faults as ourselves. I quite sympathize +with the rage of the English democracy against what they call the vices +of the upper orders. The masses feel that drunkenness, stupidity, and +immorality should be their own special property, and that if any one of +us makes an ass of himself, he is poaching on their preserves. When +poor Southwark got into the divorce court, their indignation was quite +magnificent. And yet I don't suppose that ten per cent of the +proletariat live correctly." + +"I don't agree with a single word that you have said, and, what is +more, Harry, I feel sure you don't either." + +Lord Henry stroked his pointed brown beard and tapped the toe of his +patent-leather boot with a tasselled ebony cane. "How English you are +Basil! That is the second time you have made that observation. If one +puts forward an idea to a true Englishman--always a rash thing to +do--he never dreams of considering whether the idea is right or wrong. +The only thing he considers of any importance is whether one believes +it oneself. Now, the value of an idea has nothing whatsoever to do +with the sincerity of the man who expresses it. Indeed, the +probabilities are that the more insincere the man is, the more purely +intellectual will the idea be, as in that case it will not be coloured +by either his wants, his desires, or his prejudices. However, I don't +propose to discuss politics, sociology, or metaphysics with you. I +like persons better than principles, and I like persons with no +principles better than anything else in the world. Tell me more about +Mr. Dorian Gray. How often do you see him?" + +"Every day. I couldn't be happy if I didn't see him every day. He is +absolutely necessary to me." + +"How extraordinary! I thought you would never care for anything but +your art." + +"He is all my art to me now," said the painter gravely. "I sometimes +think, Harry, that there are only two eras of any importance in the +world's history. The first is the appearance of a new medium for art, +and the second is the appearance of a new personality for art also. +What the invention of oil-painting was to the Venetians, the face of +Antinous was to late Greek sculpture, and the face of Dorian Gray will +some day be to me. It is not merely that I paint from him, draw from +him, sketch from him. Of course, I have done all that. But he is much +more to me than a model or a sitter. I won't tell you that I am +dissatisfied with what I have done of him, or that his beauty is such +that art cannot express it. There is nothing that art cannot express, +and I know that the work I have done, since I met Dorian Gray, is good +work, is the best work of my life. But in some curious way--I wonder +will you understand me?--his personality has suggested to me an +entirely new manner in art, an entirely new mode of style. I see +things differently, I think of them differently. I can now recreate +life in a way that was hidden from me before. 'A dream of form in days +of thought'--who is it who says that? I forget; but it is what Dorian +Gray has been to me. The merely visible presence of this lad--for he +seems to me little more than a lad, though he is really over +twenty--his merely visible presence--ah! I wonder can you realize all +that that means? Unconsciously he defines for me the lines of a fresh +school, a school that is to have in it all the passion of the romantic +spirit, all the perfection of the spirit that is Greek. The harmony of +soul and body--how much that is! We in our madness have separated the +two, and have invented a realism that is vulgar, an ideality that is +void. Harry! if you only knew what Dorian Gray is to me! You remember +that landscape of mine, for which Agnew offered me such a huge price +but which I would not part with? It is one of the best things I have +ever done. And why is it so? Because, while I was painting it, Dorian +Gray sat beside me. Some subtle influence passed from him to me, and +for the first time in my life I saw in the plain woodland the wonder I +had always looked for and always missed." + +"Basil, this is extraordinary! I must see Dorian Gray." + +Hallward got up from the seat and walked up and down the garden. After +some time he came back. "Harry," he said, "Dorian Gray is to me simply +a motive in art. You might see nothing in him. I see everything in +him. He is never more present in my work than when no image of him is +there. He is a suggestion, as I have said, of a new manner. I find +him in the curves of certain lines, in the loveliness and subtleties of +certain colours. That is all." + +"Then why won't you exhibit his portrait?" asked Lord Henry. + +"Because, without intending it, I have put into it some expression of +all this curious artistic idolatry, of which, of course, I have never +cared to speak to him. He knows nothing about it. He shall never know +anything about it. But the world might guess it, and I will not bare +my soul to their shallow prying eyes. My heart shall never be put +under their microscope. There is too much of myself in the thing, +Harry--too much of myself!" + +"Poets are not so scrupulous as you are. They know how useful passion +is for publication. Nowadays a broken heart will run to many editions." + +"I hate them for it," cried Hallward. "An artist should create +beautiful things, but should put nothing of his own life into them. We +live in an age when men treat art as if it were meant to be a form of +autobiography. We have lost the abstract sense of beauty. Some day I +will show the world what it is; and for that reason the world shall +never see my portrait of Dorian Gray." + +"I think you are wrong, Basil, but I won't argue with you. It is only +the intellectually lost who ever argue. Tell me, is Dorian Gray very +fond of you?" + +The painter considered for a few moments. "He likes me," he answered +after a pause; "I know he likes me. Of course I flatter him +dreadfully. I find a strange pleasure in saying things to him that I +know I shall be sorry for having said. As a rule, he is charming to +me, and we sit in the studio and talk of a thousand things. Now and +then, however, he is horribly thoughtless, and seems to take a real +delight in giving me pain. Then I feel, Harry, that I have given away +my whole soul to some one who treats it as if it were a flower to put +in his coat, a bit of decoration to charm his vanity, an ornament for a +summer's day." + +"Days in summer, Basil, are apt to linger," murmured Lord Henry. +"Perhaps you will tire sooner than he will. It is a sad thing to think +of, but there is no doubt that genius lasts longer than beauty. That +accounts for the fact that we all take such pains to over-educate +ourselves. In the wild struggle for existence, we want to have +something that endures, and so we fill our minds with rubbish and +facts, in the silly hope of keeping our place. The thoroughly +well-informed man--that is the modern ideal. And the mind of the +thoroughly well-informed man is a dreadful thing. It is like a +_bric-a-brac_ shop, all monsters and dust, with everything priced above +its proper value. I think you will tire first, all the same. Some day +you will look at your friend, and he will seem to you to be a little +out of drawing, or you won't like his tone of colour, or something. +You will bitterly reproach him in your own heart, and seriously think +that he has behaved very badly to you. The next time he calls, you +will be perfectly cold and indifferent. It will be a great pity, for +it will alter you. What you have told me is quite a romance, a romance +of art one might call it, and the worst of having a romance of any kind +is that it leaves one so unromantic." + +"Harry, don't talk like that. As long as I live, the personality of +Dorian Gray will dominate me. You can't feel what I feel. You change +too often." + +"Ah, my dear Basil, that is exactly why I can feel it. Those who are +faithful know only the trivial side of love: it is the faithless who +know love's tragedies." And Lord Henry struck a light on a dainty +silver case and began to smoke a cigarette with a self-conscious and +satisfied air, as if he had summed up the world in a phrase. There was +a rustle of chirruping sparrows in the green lacquer leaves of the ivy, +and the blue cloud-shadows chased themselves across the grass like +swallows. How pleasant it was in the garden! And how delightful other +people's emotions were!--much more delightful than their ideas, it +seemed to him. One's own soul, and the passions of one's +friends--those were the fascinating things in life. He pictured to +himself with silent amusement the tedious luncheon that he had missed +by staying so long with Basil Hallward. Had he gone to his aunt's, he +would have been sure to have met Lord Goodbody there, and the whole +conversation would have been about the feeding of the poor and the +necessity for model lodging-houses. Each class would have preached the +importance of those virtues, for whose exercise there was no necessity +in their own lives. The rich would have spoken on the value of thrift, +and the idle grown eloquent over the dignity of labour. It was +charming to have escaped all that! As he thought of his aunt, an idea +seemed to strike him. He turned to Hallward and said, "My dear fellow, +I have just remembered." + +"Remembered what, Harry?" + +"Where I heard the name of Dorian Gray." + +"Where was it?" asked Hallward, with a slight frown. + +"Don't look so angry, Basil. It was at my aunt, Lady Agatha's. She +told me she had discovered a wonderful young man who was going to help +her in the East End, and that his name was Dorian Gray. I am bound to +state that she never told me he was good-looking. Women have no +appreciation of good looks; at least, good women have not. She said +that he was very earnest and had a beautiful nature. I at once +pictured to myself a creature with spectacles and lank hair, horribly +freckled, and tramping about on huge feet. I wish I had known it was +your friend." + +"I am very glad you didn't, Harry." + +"Why?" + +"I don't want you to meet him." + +"You don't want me to meet him?" + +"No." + +"Mr. Dorian Gray is in the studio, sir," said the butler, coming into +the garden. + +"You must introduce me now," cried Lord Henry, laughing. + +The painter turned to his servant, who stood blinking in the sunlight. +"Ask Mr. Gray to wait, Parker: I shall be in in a few moments." The +man bowed and went up the walk. + +Then he looked at Lord Henry. "Dorian Gray is my dearest friend," he +said. "He has a simple and a beautiful nature. Your aunt was quite +right in what she said of him. Don't spoil him. Don't try to +influence him. Your influence would be bad. The world is wide, and +has many marvellous people in it. Don't take away from me the one +person who gives to my art whatever charm it possesses: my life as an +artist depends on him. Mind, Harry, I trust you." He spoke very +slowly, and the words seemed wrung out of him almost against his will. + +"What nonsense you talk!" said Lord Henry, smiling, and taking Hallward +by the arm, he almost led him into the house. + + + +CHAPTER 2 + +As they entered they saw Dorian Gray. He was seated at the piano, with +his back to them, turning over the pages of a volume of Schumann's +"Forest Scenes." "You must lend me these, Basil," he cried. "I want +to learn them. They are perfectly charming." + +"That entirely depends on how you sit to-day, Dorian." + +"Oh, I am tired of sitting, and I don't want a life-sized portrait of +myself," answered the lad, swinging round on the music-stool in a +wilful, petulant manner. When he caught sight of Lord Henry, a faint +blush coloured his cheeks for a moment, and he started up. "I beg your +pardon, Basil, but I didn't know you had any one with you." + +"This is Lord Henry Wotton, Dorian, an old Oxford friend of mine. I +have just been telling him what a capital sitter you were, and now you +have spoiled everything." + +"You have not spoiled my pleasure in meeting you, Mr. Gray," said Lord +Henry, stepping forward and extending his hand. "My aunt has often +spoken to me about you. You are one of her favourites, and, I am +afraid, one of her victims also." + +"I am in Lady Agatha's black books at present," answered Dorian with a +funny look of penitence. "I promised to go to a club in Whitechapel +with her last Tuesday, and I really forgot all about it. We were to +have played a duet together--three duets, I believe. I don't know what +she will say to me. I am far too frightened to call." + +"Oh, I will make your peace with my aunt. She is quite devoted to you. +And I don't think it really matters about your not being there. The +audience probably thought it was a duet. When Aunt Agatha sits down to +the piano, she makes quite enough noise for two people." + +"That is very horrid to her, and not very nice to me," answered Dorian, +laughing. + +Lord Henry looked at him. Yes, he was certainly wonderfully handsome, +with his finely curved scarlet lips, his frank blue eyes, his crisp +gold hair. There was something in his face that made one trust him at +once. All the candour of youth was there, as well as all youth's +passionate purity. One felt that he had kept himself unspotted from +the world. No wonder Basil Hallward worshipped him. + +"You are too charming to go in for philanthropy, Mr. Gray--far too +charming." And Lord Henry flung himself down on the divan and opened +his cigarette-case. + +The painter had been busy mixing his colours and getting his brushes +ready. He was looking worried, and when he heard Lord Henry's last +remark, he glanced at him, hesitated for a moment, and then said, +"Harry, I want to finish this picture to-day. Would you think it +awfully rude of me if I asked you to go away?" + +Lord Henry smiled and looked at Dorian Gray. "Am I to go, Mr. Gray?" +he asked. + +"Oh, please don't, Lord Henry. I see that Basil is in one of his sulky +moods, and I can't bear him when he sulks. Besides, I want you to tell +me why I should not go in for philanthropy." + +"I don't know that I shall tell you that, Mr. Gray. It is so tedious a +subject that one would have to talk seriously about it. But I +certainly shall not run away, now that you have asked me to stop. You +don't really mind, Basil, do you? You have often told me that you +liked your sitters to have some one to chat to." + +Hallward bit his lip. "If Dorian wishes it, of course you must stay. +Dorian's whims are laws to everybody, except himself." + +Lord Henry took up his hat and gloves. "You are very pressing, Basil, +but I am afraid I must go. I have promised to meet a man at the +Orleans. Good-bye, Mr. Gray. Come and see me some afternoon in Curzon +Street. I am nearly always at home at five o'clock. Write to me when +you are coming. I should be sorry to miss you." + +"Basil," cried Dorian Gray, "if Lord Henry Wotton goes, I shall go, +too. You never open your lips while you are painting, and it is +horribly dull standing on a platform and trying to look pleasant. Ask +him to stay. I insist upon it." + +"Stay, Harry, to oblige Dorian, and to oblige me," said Hallward, +gazing intently at his picture. "It is quite true, I never talk when I +am working, and never listen either, and it must be dreadfully tedious +for my unfortunate sitters. I beg you to stay." + +"But what about my man at the Orleans?" + +The painter laughed. "I don't think there will be any difficulty about +that. Sit down again, Harry. And now, Dorian, get up on the platform, +and don't move about too much, or pay any attention to what Lord Henry +says. He has a very bad influence over all his friends, with the +single exception of myself." + +Dorian Gray stepped up on the dais with the air of a young Greek +martyr, and made a little _moue_ of discontent to Lord Henry, to whom he +had rather taken a fancy. He was so unlike Basil. They made a +delightful contrast. And he had such a beautiful voice. After a few +moments he said to him, "Have you really a very bad influence, Lord +Henry? As bad as Basil says?" + +"There is no such thing as a good influence, Mr. Gray. All influence +is immoral--immoral from the scientific point of view." + +"Why?" + +"Because to influence a person is to give him one's own soul. He does +not think his natural thoughts, or burn with his natural passions. His +virtues are not real to him. His sins, if there are such things as +sins, are borrowed. He becomes an echo of some one else's music, an +actor of a part that has not been written for him. The aim of life is +self-development. To realize one's nature perfectly--that is what each +of us is here for. People are afraid of themselves, nowadays. They +have forgotten the highest of all duties, the duty that one owes to +one's self. Of course, they are charitable. They feed the hungry and +clothe the beggar. But their own souls starve, and are naked. Courage +has gone out of our race. Perhaps we never really had it. The terror +of society, which is the basis of morals, the terror of God, which is +the secret of religion--these are the two things that govern us. And +yet--" + +"Just turn your head a little more to the right, Dorian, like a good +boy," said the painter, deep in his work and conscious only that a look +had come into the lad's face that he had never seen there before. + +"And yet," continued Lord Henry, in his low, musical voice, and with +that graceful wave of the hand that was always so characteristic of +him, and that he had even in his Eton days, "I believe that if one man +were to live out his life fully and completely, were to give form to +every feeling, expression to every thought, reality to every dream--I +believe that the world would gain such a fresh impulse of joy that we +would forget all the maladies of mediaevalism, and return to the +Hellenic ideal--to something finer, richer than the Hellenic ideal, it +may be. But the bravest man amongst us is afraid of himself. The +mutilation of the savage has its tragic survival in the self-denial +that mars our lives. We are punished for our refusals. Every impulse +that we strive to strangle broods in the mind and poisons us. The body +sins once, and has done with its sin, for action is a mode of +purification. Nothing remains then but the recollection of a pleasure, +or the luxury of a regret. The only way to get rid of a temptation is +to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for +the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its +monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful. It has been said that +the great events of the world take place in the brain. It is in the +brain, and the brain only, that the great sins of the world take place +also. You, Mr. Gray, you yourself, with your rose-red youth and your +rose-white boyhood, you have had passions that have made you afraid, +thoughts that have filled you with terror, day-dreams and sleeping +dreams whose mere memory might stain your cheek with shame--" + +"Stop!" faltered Dorian Gray, "stop! you bewilder me. I don't know +what to say. There is some answer to you, but I cannot find it. Don't +speak. Let me think. Or, rather, let me try not to think." + +For nearly ten minutes he stood there, motionless, with parted lips and +eyes strangely bright. He was dimly conscious that entirely fresh +influences were at work within him. Yet they seemed to him to have +come really from himself. The few words that Basil's friend had said +to him--words spoken by chance, no doubt, and with wilful paradox in +them--had touched some secret chord that had never been touched before, +but that he felt was now vibrating and throbbing to curious pulses. + +Music had stirred him like that. Music had troubled him many times. +But music was not articulate. It was not a new world, but rather +another chaos, that it created in us. Words! Mere words! How +terrible they were! How clear, and vivid, and cruel! One could not +escape from them. And yet what a subtle magic there was in them! They +seemed to be able to give a plastic form to formless things, and to +have a music of their own as sweet as that of viol or of lute. Mere +words! Was there anything so real as words? + +Yes; there had been things in his boyhood that he had not understood. +He understood them now. Life suddenly became fiery-coloured to him. +It seemed to him that he had been walking in fire. Why had he not +known it? + +With his subtle smile, Lord Henry watched him. He knew the precise +psychological moment when to say nothing. He felt intensely +interested. He was amazed at the sudden impression that his words had +produced, and, remembering a book that he had read when he was sixteen, +a book which had revealed to him much that he had not known before, he +wondered whether Dorian Gray was passing through a similar experience. +He had merely shot an arrow into the air. Had it hit the mark? How +fascinating the lad was! + +Hallward painted away with that marvellous bold touch of his, that had +the true refinement and perfect delicacy that in art, at any rate comes +only from strength. He was unconscious of the silence. + +"Basil, I am tired of standing," cried Dorian Gray suddenly. "I must +go out and sit in the garden. The air is stifling here." + +"My dear fellow, I am so sorry. When I am painting, I can't think of +anything else. But you never sat better. You were perfectly still. +And I have caught the effect I wanted--the half-parted lips and the +bright look in the eyes. I don't know what Harry has been saying to +you, but he has certainly made you have the most wonderful expression. +I suppose he has been paying you compliments. You mustn't believe a +word that he says." + +"He has certainly not been paying me compliments. Perhaps that is the +reason that I don't believe anything he has told me." + +"You know you believe it all," said Lord Henry, looking at him with his +dreamy languorous eyes. "I will go out to the garden with you. It is +horribly hot in the studio. Basil, let us have something iced to +drink, something with strawberries in it." + +"Certainly, Harry. Just touch the bell, and when Parker comes I will +tell him what you want. I have got to work up this background, so I +will join you later on. Don't keep Dorian too long. I have never been +in better form for painting than I am to-day. This is going to be my +masterpiece. It is my masterpiece as it stands." + +Lord Henry went out to the garden and found Dorian Gray burying his +face in the great cool lilac-blossoms, feverishly drinking in their +perfume as if it had been wine. He came close to him and put his hand +upon his shoulder. "You are quite right to do that," he murmured. +"Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the +senses but the soul." + +The lad started and drew back. He was bareheaded, and the leaves had +tossed his rebellious curls and tangled all their gilded threads. +There was a look of fear in his eyes, such as people have when they are +suddenly awakened. His finely chiselled nostrils quivered, and some +hidden nerve shook the scarlet of his lips and left them trembling. + +"Yes," continued Lord Henry, "that is one of the great secrets of +life--to cure the soul by means of the senses, and the senses by means +of the soul. You are a wonderful creation. You know more than you +think you know, just as you know less than you want to know." + +Dorian Gray frowned and turned his head away. He could not help liking +the tall, graceful young man who was standing by him. His romantic, +olive-coloured face and worn expression interested him. There was +something in his low languid voice that was absolutely fascinating. +His cool, white, flowerlike hands, even, had a curious charm. They +moved, as he spoke, like music, and seemed to have a language of their +own. But he felt afraid of him, and ashamed of being afraid. Why had +it been left for a stranger to reveal him to himself? He had known +Basil Hallward for months, but the friendship between them had never +altered him. Suddenly there had come some one across his life who +seemed to have disclosed to him life's mystery. And, yet, what was +there to be afraid of? He was not a schoolboy or a girl. It was +absurd to be frightened. + +"Let us go and sit in the shade," said Lord Henry. "Parker has brought +out the drinks, and if you stay any longer in this glare, you will be +quite spoiled, and Basil will never paint you again. You really must +not allow yourself to become sunburnt. It would be unbecoming." + +"What can it matter?" cried Dorian Gray, laughing, as he sat down on +the seat at the end of the garden. + +"It should matter everything to you, Mr. Gray." + +"Why?" + +"Because you have the most marvellous youth, and youth is the one thing +worth having." + +"I don't feel that, Lord Henry." + +"No, you don't feel it now. Some day, when you are old and wrinkled +and ugly, when thought has seared your forehead with its lines, and +passion branded your lips with its hideous fires, you will feel it, you +will feel it terribly. Now, wherever you go, you charm the world. +Will it always be so? ... You have a wonderfully beautiful face, Mr. +Gray. Don't frown. You have. And beauty is a form of genius--is +higher, indeed, than genius, as it needs no explanation. It is of the +great facts of the world, like sunlight, or spring-time, or the +reflection in dark waters of that silver shell we call the moon. It +cannot be questioned. It has its divine right of sovereignty. It +makes princes of those who have it. You smile? Ah! when you have lost +it you won't smile.... People say sometimes that beauty is only +superficial. That may be so, but at least it is not so superficial as +thought is. To me, beauty is the wonder of wonders. It is only +shallow people who do not judge by appearances. The true mystery of +the world is the visible, not the invisible.... Yes, Mr. Gray, the +gods have been good to you. But what the gods give they quickly take +away. You have only a few years in which to live really, perfectly, +and fully. When your youth goes, your beauty will go with it, and then +you will suddenly discover that there are no triumphs left for you, or +have to content yourself with those mean triumphs that the memory of +your past will make more bitter than defeats. Every month as it wanes +brings you nearer to something dreadful. Time is jealous of you, and +wars against your lilies and your roses. You will become sallow, and +hollow-cheeked, and dull-eyed. You will suffer horribly.... Ah! +realize your youth while you have it. Don't squander the gold of your +days, listening to the tedious, trying to improve the hopeless failure, +or giving away your life to the ignorant, the common, and the vulgar. +These are the sickly aims, the false ideals, of our age. Live! Live +the wonderful life that is in you! Let nothing be lost upon you. Be +always searching for new sensations. Be afraid of nothing.... A new +Hedonism--that is what our century wants. You might be its visible +symbol. With your personality there is nothing you could not do. The +world belongs to you for a season.... The moment I met you I saw that +you were quite unconscious of what you really are, of what you really +might be. There was so much in you that charmed me that I felt I must +tell you something about yourself. I thought how tragic it would be if +you were wasted. For there is such a little time that your youth will +last--such a little time. The common hill-flowers wither, but they +blossom again. The laburnum will be as yellow next June as it is now. +In a month there will be purple stars on the clematis, and year after +year the green night of its leaves will hold its purple stars. But we +never get back our youth. The pulse of joy that beats in us at twenty +becomes sluggish. Our limbs fail, our senses rot. We degenerate into +hideous puppets, haunted by the memory of the passions of which we were +too much afraid, and the exquisite temptations that we had not the +courage to yield to. Youth! Youth! There is absolutely nothing in +the world but youth!" + +Dorian Gray listened, open-eyed and wondering. The spray of lilac fell +from his hand upon the gravel. A furry bee came and buzzed round it +for a moment. Then it began to scramble all over the oval stellated +globe of the tiny blossoms. He watched it with that strange interest +in trivial things that we try to develop when things of high import +make us afraid, or when we are stirred by some new emotion for which we +cannot find expression, or when some thought that terrifies us lays +sudden siege to the brain and calls on us to yield. After a time the +bee flew away. He saw it creeping into the stained trumpet of a Tyrian +convolvulus. The flower seemed to quiver, and then swayed gently to +and fro. + +Suddenly the painter appeared at the door of the studio and made +staccato signs for them to come in. They turned to each other and +smiled. + +"I am waiting," he cried. "Do come in. The light is quite perfect, +and you can bring your drinks." + +They rose up and sauntered down the walk together. Two green-and-white +butterflies fluttered past them, and in the pear-tree at the corner of +the garden a thrush began to sing. + +"You are glad you have met me, Mr. Gray," said Lord Henry, looking at +him. + +"Yes, I am glad now. I wonder shall I always be glad?" + +"Always! That is a dreadful word. It makes me shudder when I hear it. +Women are so fond of using it. They spoil every romance by trying to +make it last for ever. It is a meaningless word, too. The only +difference between a caprice and a lifelong passion is that the caprice +lasts a little longer." + +As they entered the studio, Dorian Gray put his hand upon Lord Henry's +arm. "In that case, let our friendship be a caprice," he murmured, +flushing at his own boldness, then stepped up on the platform and +resumed his pose. + +Lord Henry flung himself into a large wicker arm-chair and watched him. +The sweep and dash of the brush on the canvas made the only sound that +broke the stillness, except when, now and then, Hallward stepped back +to look at his work from a distance. In the slanting beams that +streamed through the open doorway the dust danced and was golden. The +heavy scent of the roses seemed to brood over everything. + +After about a quarter of an hour Hallward stopped painting, looked for +a long time at Dorian Gray, and then for a long time at the picture, +biting the end of one of his huge brushes and frowning. "It is quite +finished," he cried at last, and stooping down he wrote his name in +long vermilion letters on the left-hand corner of the canvas. + +Lord Henry came over and examined the picture. It was certainly a +wonderful work of art, and a wonderful likeness as well. + +"My dear fellow, I congratulate you most warmly," he said. "It is the +finest portrait of modern times. Mr. Gray, come over and look at +yourself." + +The lad started, as if awakened from some dream. + +"Is it really finished?" he murmured, stepping down from the platform. + +"Quite finished," said the painter. "And you have sat splendidly +to-day. I am awfully obliged to you." + +"That is entirely due to me," broke in Lord Henry. "Isn't it, Mr. +Gray?" + +Dorian made no answer, but passed listlessly in front of his picture +and turned towards it. When he saw it he drew back, and his cheeks +flushed for a moment with pleasure. A look of joy came into his eyes, +as if he had recognized himself for the first time. He stood there +motionless and in wonder, dimly conscious that Hallward was speaking to +him, but not catching the meaning of his words. The sense of his own +beauty came on him like a revelation. He had never felt it before. +Basil Hallward's compliments had seemed to him to be merely the +charming exaggeration of friendship. He had listened to them, laughed +at them, forgotten them. They had not influenced his nature. Then had +come Lord Henry Wotton with his strange panegyric on youth, his +terrible warning of its brevity. That had stirred him at the time, and +now, as he stood gazing at the shadow of his own loveliness, the full +reality of the description flashed across him. Yes, there would be a +day when his face would be wrinkled and wizen, his eyes dim and +colourless, the grace of his figure broken and deformed. The scarlet +would pass away from his lips and the gold steal from his hair. The +life that was to make his soul would mar his body. He would become +dreadful, hideous, and uncouth. + +As he thought of it, a sharp pang of pain struck through him like a +knife and made each delicate fibre of his nature quiver. His eyes +deepened into amethyst, and across them came a mist of tears. He felt +as if a hand of ice had been laid upon his heart. + +"Don't you like it?" cried Hallward at last, stung a little by the +lad's silence, not understanding what it meant. + +"Of course he likes it," said Lord Henry. "Who wouldn't like it? It +is one of the greatest things in modern art. I will give you anything +you like to ask for it. I must have it." + +"It is not my property, Harry." + +"Whose property is it?" + +"Dorian's, of course," answered the painter. + +"He is a very lucky fellow." + +"How sad it is!" murmured Dorian Gray with his eyes still fixed upon +his own portrait. "How sad it is! I shall grow old, and horrible, and +dreadful. But this picture will remain always young. It will never be +older than this particular day of June.... If it were only the other +way! If it were I who was to be always young, and the picture that was +to grow old! For that--for that--I would give everything! Yes, there +is nothing in the whole world I would not give! I would give my soul +for that!" + +"You would hardly care for such an arrangement, Basil," cried Lord +Henry, laughing. "It would be rather hard lines on your work." + +"I should object very strongly, Harry," said Hallward. + +Dorian Gray turned and looked at him. "I believe you would, Basil. +You like your art better than your friends. I am no more to you than a +green bronze figure. Hardly as much, I dare say." + +The painter stared in amazement. It was so unlike Dorian to speak like +that. What had happened? He seemed quite angry. His face was flushed +and his cheeks burning. + +"Yes," he continued, "I am less to you than your ivory Hermes or your +silver Faun. You will like them always. How long will you like me? +Till I have my first wrinkle, I suppose. I know, now, that when one +loses one's good looks, whatever they may be, one loses everything. +Your picture has taught me that. Lord Henry Wotton is perfectly right. +Youth is the only thing worth having. When I find that I am growing +old, I shall kill myself." + +Hallward turned pale and caught his hand. "Dorian! Dorian!" he cried, +"don't talk like that. I have never had such a friend as you, and I +shall never have such another. You are not jealous of material things, +are you?--you who are finer than any of them!" + +"I am jealous of everything whose beauty does not die. I am jealous of +the portrait you have painted of me. Why should it keep what I must +lose? Every moment that passes takes something from me and gives +something to it. Oh, if it were only the other way! If the picture +could change, and I could be always what I am now! Why did you paint +it? It will mock me some day--mock me horribly!" The hot tears welled +into his eyes; he tore his hand away and, flinging himself on the +divan, he buried his face in the cushions, as though he was praying. + +"This is your doing, Harry," said the painter bitterly. + +Lord Henry shrugged his shoulders. "It is the real Dorian Gray--that +is all." + +"It is not." + +"If it is not, what have I to do with it?" + +"You should have gone away when I asked you," he muttered. + +"I stayed when you asked me," was Lord Henry's answer. + +"Harry, I can't quarrel with my two best friends at once, but between +you both you have made me hate the finest piece of work I have ever +done, and I will destroy it. What is it but canvas and colour? I will +not let it come across our three lives and mar them." + +Dorian Gray lifted his golden head from the pillow, and with pallid +face and tear-stained eyes, looked at him as he walked over to the deal +painting-table that was set beneath the high curtained window. What +was he doing there? His fingers were straying about among the litter +of tin tubes and dry brushes, seeking for something. Yes, it was for +the long palette-knife, with its thin blade of lithe steel. He had +found it at last. He was going to rip up the canvas. + +With a stifled sob the lad leaped from the couch, and, rushing over to +Hallward, tore the knife out of his hand, and flung it to the end of +the studio. "Don't, Basil, don't!" he cried. "It would be murder!" + +"I am glad you appreciate my work at last, Dorian," said the painter +coldly when he had recovered from his surprise. "I never thought you +would." + +"Appreciate it? I am in love with it, Basil. It is part of myself. I +feel that." + +"Well, as soon as you are dry, you shall be varnished, and framed, and +sent home. Then you can do what you like with yourself." And he walked +across the room and rang the bell for tea. "You will have tea, of +course, Dorian? And so will you, Harry? Or do you object to such +simple pleasures?" + +"I adore simple pleasures," said Lord Henry. "They are the last refuge +of the complex. But I don't like scenes, except on the stage. What +absurd fellows you are, both of you! I wonder who it was defined man +as a rational animal. It was the most premature definition ever given. +Man is many things, but he is not rational. I am glad he is not, after +all--though I wish you chaps would not squabble over the picture. You +had much better let me have it, Basil. This silly boy doesn't really +want it, and I really do." + +"If you let any one have it but me, Basil, I shall never forgive you!" +cried Dorian Gray; "and I don't allow people to call me a silly boy." + +"You know the picture is yours, Dorian. I gave it to you before it +existed." + +"And you know you have been a little silly, Mr. Gray, and that you +don't really object to being reminded that you are extremely young." + +"I should have objected very strongly this morning, Lord Henry." + +"Ah! this morning! You have lived since then." + +There came a knock at the door, and the butler entered with a laden +tea-tray and set it down upon a small Japanese table. There was a +rattle of cups and saucers and the hissing of a fluted Georgian urn. +Two globe-shaped china dishes were brought in by a page. Dorian Gray +went over and poured out the tea. The two men sauntered languidly to +the table and examined what was under the covers. + +"Let us go to the theatre to-night," said Lord Henry. "There is sure +to be something on, somewhere. I have promised to dine at White's, but +it is only with an old friend, so I can send him a wire to say that I +am ill, or that I am prevented from coming in consequence of a +subsequent engagement. I think that would be a rather nice excuse: it +would have all the surprise of candour." + +"It is such a bore putting on one's dress-clothes," muttered Hallward. +"And, when one has them on, they are so horrid." + +"Yes," answered Lord Henry dreamily, "the costume of the nineteenth +century is detestable. It is so sombre, so depressing. Sin is the +only real colour-element left in modern life." + +"You really must not say things like that before Dorian, Harry." + +"Before which Dorian? The one who is pouring out tea for us, or the +one in the picture?" + +"Before either." + +"I should like to come to the theatre with you, Lord Henry," said the +lad. + +"Then you shall come; and you will come, too, Basil, won't you?" + +"I can't, really. I would sooner not. I have a lot of work to do." + +"Well, then, you and I will go alone, Mr. Gray." + +"I should like that awfully." + +The painter bit his lip and walked over, cup in hand, to the picture. +"I shall stay with the real Dorian," he said, sadly. + +"Is it the real Dorian?" cried the original of the portrait, strolling +across to him. "Am I really like that?" + +"Yes; you are just like that." + +"How wonderful, Basil!" + +"At least you are like it in appearance. But it will never alter," +sighed Hallward. "That is something." + +"What a fuss people make about fidelity!" exclaimed Lord Henry. "Why, +even in love it is purely a question for physiology. It has nothing to +do with our own will. Young men want to be faithful, and are not; old +men want to be faithless, and cannot: that is all one can say." + +"Don't go to the theatre to-night, Dorian," said Hallward. "Stop and +dine with me." + +"I can't, Basil." + +"Why?" + +"Because I have promised Lord Henry Wotton to go with him." + +"He won't like you the better for keeping your promises. He always +breaks his own. I beg you not to go." + +Dorian Gray laughed and shook his head. + +"I entreat you." + +The lad hesitated, and looked over at Lord Henry, who was watching them +from the tea-table with an amused smile. + +"I must go, Basil," he answered. + +"Very well," said Hallward, and he went over and laid down his cup on +the tray. "It is rather late, and, as you have to dress, you had +better lose no time. Good-bye, Harry. Good-bye, Dorian. Come and see +me soon. Come to-morrow." + +"Certainly." + +"You won't forget?" + +"No, of course not," cried Dorian. + +"And ... Harry!" + +"Yes, Basil?" + +"Remember what I asked you, when we were in the garden this morning." + +"I have forgotten it." + +"I trust you." + +"I wish I could trust myself," said Lord Henry, laughing. "Come, Mr. +Gray, my hansom is outside, and I can drop you at your own place. +Good-bye, Basil. It has been a most interesting afternoon." + +As the door closed behind them, the painter flung himself down on a +sofa, and a look of pain came into his face. + + + +CHAPTER 3 + +At half-past twelve next day Lord Henry Wotton strolled from Curzon +Street over to the Albany to call on his uncle, Lord Fermor, a genial +if somewhat rough-mannered old bachelor, whom the outside world called +selfish because it derived no particular benefit from him, but who was +considered generous by Society as he fed the people who amused him. +His father had been our ambassador at Madrid when Isabella was young +and Prim unthought of, but had retired from the diplomatic service in a +capricious moment of annoyance on not being offered the Embassy at +Paris, a post to which he considered that he was fully entitled by +reason of his birth, his indolence, the good English of his dispatches, +and his inordinate passion for pleasure. The son, who had been his +father's secretary, had resigned along with his chief, somewhat +foolishly as was thought at the time, and on succeeding some months +later to the title, had set himself to the serious study of the great +aristocratic art of doing absolutely nothing. He had two large town +houses, but preferred to live in chambers as it was less trouble, and +took most of his meals at his club. He paid some attention to the +management of his collieries in the Midland counties, excusing himself +for this taint of industry on the ground that the one advantage of +having coal was that it enabled a gentleman to afford the decency of +burning wood on his own hearth. In politics he was a Tory, except when +the Tories were in office, during which period he roundly abused them +for being a pack of Radicals. He was a hero to his valet, who bullied +him, and a terror to most of his relations, whom he bullied in turn. +Only England could have produced him, and he always said that the +country was going to the dogs. His principles were out of date, but +there was a good deal to be said for his prejudices. + +When Lord Henry entered the room, he found his uncle sitting in a rough +shooting-coat, smoking a cheroot and grumbling over _The Times_. "Well, +Harry," said the old gentleman, "what brings you out so early? I +thought you dandies never got up till two, and were not visible till +five." + +"Pure family affection, I assure you, Uncle George. I want to get +something out of you." + +"Money, I suppose," said Lord Fermor, making a wry face. "Well, sit +down and tell me all about it. Young people, nowadays, imagine that +money is everything." + +"Yes," murmured Lord Henry, settling his button-hole in his coat; "and +when they grow older they know it. But I don't want money. It is only +people who pay their bills who want that, Uncle George, and I never pay +mine. Credit is the capital of a younger son, and one lives charmingly +upon it. Besides, I always deal with Dartmoor's tradesmen, and +consequently they never bother me. What I want is information: not +useful information, of course; useless information." + +"Well, I can tell you anything that is in an English Blue Book, Harry, +although those fellows nowadays write a lot of nonsense. When I was in +the Diplomatic, things were much better. But I hear they let them in +now by examination. What can you expect? Examinations, sir, are pure +humbug from beginning to end. If a man is a gentleman, he knows quite +enough, and if he is not a gentleman, whatever he knows is bad for him." + +"Mr. Dorian Gray does not belong to Blue Books, Uncle George," said +Lord Henry languidly. + +"Mr. Dorian Gray? Who is he?" asked Lord Fermor, knitting his bushy +white eyebrows. + +"That is what I have come to learn, Uncle George. Or rather, I know +who he is. He is the last Lord Kelso's grandson. His mother was a +Devereux, Lady Margaret Devereux. I want you to tell me about his +mother. What was she like? Whom did she marry? You have known nearly +everybody in your time, so you might have known her. I am very much +interested in Mr. Gray at present. I have only just met him." + +"Kelso's grandson!" echoed the old gentleman. "Kelso's grandson! ... +Of course.... I knew his mother intimately. I believe I was at her +christening. She was an extraordinarily beautiful girl, Margaret +Devereux, and made all the men frantic by running away with a penniless +young fellow--a mere nobody, sir, a subaltern in a foot regiment, or +something of that kind. Certainly. I remember the whole thing as if +it happened yesterday. The poor chap was killed in a duel at Spa a few +months after the marriage. There was an ugly story about it. They +said Kelso got some rascally adventurer, some Belgian brute, to insult +his son-in-law in public--paid him, sir, to do it, paid him--and that +the fellow spitted his man as if he had been a pigeon. The thing was +hushed up, but, egad, Kelso ate his chop alone at the club for some +time afterwards. He brought his daughter back with him, I was told, +and she never spoke to him again. Oh, yes; it was a bad business. The +girl died, too, died within a year. So she left a son, did she? I had +forgotten that. What sort of boy is he? If he is like his mother, he +must be a good-looking chap." + +"He is very good-looking," assented Lord Henry. + +"I hope he will fall into proper hands," continued the old man. "He +should have a pot of money waiting for him if Kelso did the right thing +by him. His mother had money, too. All the Selby property came to +her, through her grandfather. Her grandfather hated Kelso, thought him +a mean dog. He was, too. Came to Madrid once when I was there. Egad, +I was ashamed of him. The Queen used to ask me about the English noble +who was always quarrelling with the cabmen about their fares. They +made quite a story of it. I didn't dare show my face at Court for a +month. I hope he treated his grandson better than he did the jarvies." + +"I don't know," answered Lord Henry. "I fancy that the boy will be +well off. He is not of age yet. He has Selby, I know. He told me so. +And ... his mother was very beautiful?" + +"Margaret Devereux was one of the loveliest creatures I ever saw, +Harry. What on earth induced her to behave as she did, I never could +understand. She could have married anybody she chose. Carlington was +mad after her. She was romantic, though. All the women of that family +were. The men were a poor lot, but, egad! the women were wonderful. +Carlington went on his knees to her. Told me so himself. She laughed +at him, and there wasn't a girl in London at the time who wasn't after +him. And by the way, Harry, talking about silly marriages, what is +this humbug your father tells me about Dartmoor wanting to marry an +American? Ain't English girls good enough for him?" + +"It is rather fashionable to marry Americans just now, Uncle George." + +"I'll back English women against the world, Harry," said Lord Fermor, +striking the table with his fist. + +"The betting is on the Americans." + +"They don't last, I am told," muttered his uncle. + +"A long engagement exhausts them, but they are capital at a +steeplechase. They take things flying. I don't think Dartmoor has a +chance." + +"Who are her people?" grumbled the old gentleman. "Has she got any?" + +Lord Henry shook his head. "American girls are as clever at concealing +their parents, as English women are at concealing their past," he said, +rising to go. + +"They are pork-packers, I suppose?" + +"I hope so, Uncle George, for Dartmoor's sake. I am told that +pork-packing is the most lucrative profession in America, after +politics." + +"Is she pretty?" + +"She behaves as if she was beautiful. Most American women do. It is +the secret of their charm." + +"Why can't these American women stay in their own country? They are +always telling us that it is the paradise for women." + +"It is. That is the reason why, like Eve, they are so excessively +anxious to get out of it," said Lord Henry. "Good-bye, Uncle George. +I shall be late for lunch, if I stop any longer. Thanks for giving me +the information I wanted. I always like to know everything about my +new friends, and nothing about my old ones." + +"Where are you lunching, Harry?" + +"At Aunt Agatha's. I have asked myself and Mr. Gray. He is her latest +_protege_." + +"Humph! tell your Aunt Agatha, Harry, not to bother me any more with +her charity appeals. I am sick of them. Why, the good woman thinks +that I have nothing to do but to write cheques for her silly fads." + +"All right, Uncle George, I'll tell her, but it won't have any effect. +Philanthropic people lose all sense of humanity. It is their +distinguishing characteristic." + +The old gentleman growled approvingly and rang the bell for his +servant. Lord Henry passed up the low arcade into Burlington Street +and turned his steps in the direction of Berkeley Square. + +So that was the story of Dorian Gray's parentage. Crudely as it had +been told to him, it had yet stirred him by its suggestion of a +strange, almost modern romance. A beautiful woman risking everything +for a mad passion. A few wild weeks of happiness cut short by a +hideous, treacherous crime. Months of voiceless agony, and then a +child born in pain. The mother snatched away by death, the boy left to +solitude and the tyranny of an old and loveless man. Yes; it was an +interesting background. It posed the lad, made him more perfect, as it +were. Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something +tragic. Worlds had to be in travail, that the meanest flower might +blow.... And how charming he had been at dinner the night before, as +with startled eyes and lips parted in frightened pleasure he had sat +opposite to him at the club, the red candleshades staining to a richer +rose the wakening wonder of his face. Talking to him was like playing +upon an exquisite violin. He answered to every touch and thrill of the +bow.... There was something terribly enthralling in the exercise of +influence. No other activity was like it. To project one's soul into +some gracious form, and let it tarry there for a moment; to hear one's +own intellectual views echoed back to one with all the added music of +passion and youth; to convey one's temperament into another as though +it were a subtle fluid or a strange perfume: there was a real joy in +that--perhaps the most satisfying joy left to us in an age so limited +and vulgar as our own, an age grossly carnal in its pleasures, and +grossly common in its aims.... He was a marvellous type, too, this lad, +whom by so curious a chance he had met in Basil's studio, or could be +fashioned into a marvellous type, at any rate. Grace was his, and the +white purity of boyhood, and beauty such as old Greek marbles kept for +us. There was nothing that one could not do with him. He could be +made a Titan or a toy. What a pity it was that such beauty was +destined to fade! ... And Basil? From a psychological point of view, +how interesting he was! The new manner in art, the fresh mode of +looking at life, suggested so strangely by the merely visible presence +of one who was unconscious of it all; the silent spirit that dwelt in +dim woodland, and walked unseen in open field, suddenly showing +herself, Dryadlike and not afraid, because in his soul who sought for +her there had been wakened that wonderful vision to which alone are +wonderful things revealed; the mere shapes and patterns of things +becoming, as it were, refined, and gaining a kind of symbolical value, +as though they were themselves patterns of some other and more perfect +form whose shadow they made real: how strange it all was! He +remembered something like it in history. Was it not Plato, that artist +in thought, who had first analyzed it? Was it not Buonarotti who had +carved it in the coloured marbles of a sonnet-sequence? But in our own +century it was strange.... Yes; he would try to be to Dorian Gray +what, without knowing it, the lad was to the painter who had fashioned +the wonderful portrait. He would seek to dominate him--had already, +indeed, half done so. He would make that wonderful spirit his own. +There was something fascinating in this son of love and death. + +Suddenly he stopped and glanced up at the houses. He found that he had +passed his aunt's some distance, and, smiling to himself, turned back. +When he entered the somewhat sombre hall, the butler told him that they +had gone in to lunch. He gave one of the footmen his hat and stick and +passed into the dining-room. + +"Late as usual, Harry," cried his aunt, shaking her head at him. + +He invented a facile excuse, and having taken the vacant seat next to +her, looked round to see who was there. Dorian bowed to him shyly from +the end of the table, a flush of pleasure stealing into his cheek. +Opposite was the Duchess of Harley, a lady of admirable good-nature and +good temper, much liked by every one who knew her, and of those ample +architectural proportions that in women who are not duchesses are +described by contemporary historians as stoutness. Next to her sat, on +her right, Sir Thomas Burdon, a Radical member of Parliament, who +followed his leader in public life and in private life followed the +best cooks, dining with the Tories and thinking with the Liberals, in +accordance with a wise and well-known rule. The post on her left was +occupied by Mr. Erskine of Treadley, an old gentleman of considerable +charm and culture, who had fallen, however, into bad habits of silence, +having, as he explained once to Lady Agatha, said everything that he +had to say before he was thirty. His own neighbour was Mrs. Vandeleur, +one of his aunt's oldest friends, a perfect saint amongst women, but so +dreadfully dowdy that she reminded one of a badly bound hymn-book. +Fortunately for him she had on the other side Lord Faudel, a most +intelligent middle-aged mediocrity, as bald as a ministerial statement +in the House of Commons, with whom she was conversing in that intensely +earnest manner which is the one unpardonable error, as he remarked once +himself, that all really good people fall into, and from which none of +them ever quite escape. + +"We are talking about poor Dartmoor, Lord Henry," cried the duchess, +nodding pleasantly to him across the table. "Do you think he will +really marry this fascinating young person?" + +"I believe she has made up her mind to propose to him, Duchess." + +"How dreadful!" exclaimed Lady Agatha. "Really, some one should +interfere." + +"I am told, on excellent authority, that her father keeps an American +dry-goods store," said Sir Thomas Burdon, looking supercilious. + +"My uncle has already suggested pork-packing, Sir Thomas." + +"Dry-goods! What are American dry-goods?" asked the duchess, raising +her large hands in wonder and accentuating the verb. + +"American novels," answered Lord Henry, helping himself to some quail. + +The duchess looked puzzled. + +"Don't mind him, my dear," whispered Lady Agatha. "He never means +anything that he says." + +"When America was discovered," said the Radical member--and he began to +give some wearisome facts. Like all people who try to exhaust a +subject, he exhausted his listeners. The duchess sighed and exercised +her privilege of interruption. "I wish to goodness it never had been +discovered at all!" she exclaimed. "Really, our girls have no chance +nowadays. It is most unfair." + +"Perhaps, after all, America never has been discovered," said Mr. +Erskine; "I myself would say that it had merely been detected." + +"Oh! but I have seen specimens of the inhabitants," answered the +duchess vaguely. "I must confess that most of them are extremely +pretty. And they dress well, too. They get all their dresses in +Paris. I wish I could afford to do the same." + +"They say that when good Americans die they go to Paris," chuckled Sir +Thomas, who had a large wardrobe of Humour's cast-off clothes. + +"Really! And where do bad Americans go to when they die?" inquired the +duchess. + +"They go to America," murmured Lord Henry. + +Sir Thomas frowned. "I am afraid that your nephew is prejudiced +against that great country," he said to Lady Agatha. "I have travelled +all over it in cars provided by the directors, who, in such matters, +are extremely civil. I assure you that it is an education to visit it." + +"But must we really see Chicago in order to be educated?" asked Mr. +Erskine plaintively. "I don't feel up to the journey." + +Sir Thomas waved his hand. "Mr. Erskine of Treadley has the world on +his shelves. We practical men like to see things, not to read about +them. The Americans are an extremely interesting people. They are +absolutely reasonable. I think that is their distinguishing +characteristic. Yes, Mr. Erskine, an absolutely reasonable people. I +assure you there is no nonsense about the Americans." + +"How dreadful!" cried Lord Henry. "I can stand brute force, but brute +reason is quite unbearable. There is something unfair about its use. +It is hitting below the intellect." + +"I do not understand you," said Sir Thomas, growing rather red. + +"I do, Lord Henry," murmured Mr. Erskine, with a smile. + +"Paradoxes are all very well in their way...." rejoined the baronet. + +"Was that a paradox?" asked Mr. Erskine. "I did not think so. Perhaps +it was. Well, the way of paradoxes is the way of truth. To test +reality we must see it on the tight rope. When the verities become +acrobats, we can judge them." + +"Dear me!" said Lady Agatha, "how you men argue! I am sure I never can +make out what you are talking about. Oh! Harry, I am quite vexed with +you. Why do you try to persuade our nice Mr. Dorian Gray to give up +the East End? I assure you he would be quite invaluable. They would +love his playing." + +"I want him to play to me," cried Lord Henry, smiling, and he looked +down the table and caught a bright answering glance. + +"But they are so unhappy in Whitechapel," continued Lady Agatha. + +"I can sympathize with everything except suffering," said Lord Henry, +shrugging his shoulders. "I cannot sympathize with that. It is too +ugly, too horrible, too distressing. There is something terribly +morbid in the modern sympathy with pain. One should sympathize with +the colour, the beauty, the joy of life. The less said about life's +sores, the better." + +"Still, the East End is a very important problem," remarked Sir Thomas +with a grave shake of the head. + +"Quite so," answered the young lord. "It is the problem of slavery, +and we try to solve it by amusing the slaves." + +The politician looked at him keenly. "What change do you propose, +then?" he asked. + +Lord Henry laughed. "I don't desire to change anything in England +except the weather," he answered. "I am quite content with philosophic +contemplation. But, as the nineteenth century has gone bankrupt +through an over-expenditure of sympathy, I would suggest that we should +appeal to science to put us straight. The advantage of the emotions is +that they lead us astray, and the advantage of science is that it is +not emotional." + +"But we have such grave responsibilities," ventured Mrs. Vandeleur +timidly. + +"Terribly grave," echoed Lady Agatha. + +Lord Henry looked over at Mr. Erskine. "Humanity takes itself too +seriously. It is the world's original sin. If the caveman had known +how to laugh, history would have been different." + +"You are really very comforting," warbled the duchess. "I have always +felt rather guilty when I came to see your dear aunt, for I take no +interest at all in the East End. For the future I shall be able to +look her in the face without a blush." + +"A blush is very becoming, Duchess," remarked Lord Henry. + +"Only when one is young," she answered. "When an old woman like myself +blushes, it is a very bad sign. Ah! Lord Henry, I wish you would tell +me how to become young again." + +He thought for a moment. "Can you remember any great error that you +committed in your early days, Duchess?" he asked, looking at her across +the table. + +"A great many, I fear," she cried. + +"Then commit them over again," he said gravely. "To get back one's +youth, one has merely to repeat one's follies." + +"A delightful theory!" she exclaimed. "I must put it into practice." + +"A dangerous theory!" came from Sir Thomas's tight lips. Lady Agatha +shook her head, but could not help being amused. Mr. Erskine listened. + +"Yes," he continued, "that is one of the great secrets of life. +Nowadays most people die of a sort of creeping common sense, and +discover when it is too late that the only things one never regrets are +one's mistakes." + +A laugh ran round the table. + +He played with the idea and grew wilful; tossed it into the air and +transformed it; let it escape and recaptured it; made it iridescent +with fancy and winged it with paradox. The praise of folly, as he went +on, soared into a philosophy, and philosophy herself became young, and +catching the mad music of pleasure, wearing, one might fancy, her +wine-stained robe and wreath of ivy, danced like a Bacchante over the +hills of life, and mocked the slow Silenus for being sober. Facts fled +before her like frightened forest things. Her white feet trod the huge +press at which wise Omar sits, till the seething grape-juice rose round +her bare limbs in waves of purple bubbles, or crawled in red foam over +the vat's black, dripping, sloping sides. It was an extraordinary +improvisation. He felt that the eyes of Dorian Gray were fixed on him, +and the consciousness that amongst his audience there was one whose +temperament he wished to fascinate seemed to give his wit keenness and +to lend colour to his imagination. He was brilliant, fantastic, +irresponsible. He charmed his listeners out of themselves, and they +followed his pipe, laughing. Dorian Gray never took his gaze off him, +but sat like one under a spell, smiles chasing each other over his lips +and wonder growing grave in his darkening eyes. + +At last, liveried in the costume of the age, reality entered the room +in the shape of a servant to tell the duchess that her carriage was +waiting. She wrung her hands in mock despair. "How annoying!" she +cried. "I must go. I have to call for my husband at the club, to take +him to some absurd meeting at Willis's Rooms, where he is going to be +in the chair. If I am late he is sure to be furious, and I couldn't +have a scene in this bonnet. It is far too fragile. A harsh word +would ruin it. No, I must go, dear Agatha. Good-bye, Lord Henry, you +are quite delightful and dreadfully demoralizing. I am sure I don't +know what to say about your views. You must come and dine with us some +night. Tuesday? Are you disengaged Tuesday?" + +"For you I would throw over anybody, Duchess," said Lord Henry with a +bow. + +"Ah! that is very nice, and very wrong of you," she cried; "so mind you +come"; and she swept out of the room, followed by Lady Agatha and the +other ladies. + +When Lord Henry had sat down again, Mr. Erskine moved round, and taking +a chair close to him, placed his hand upon his arm. + +"You talk books away," he said; "why don't you write one?" + +"I am too fond of reading books to care to write them, Mr. Erskine. I +should like to write a novel certainly, a novel that would be as lovely +as a Persian carpet and as unreal. But there is no literary public in +England for anything except newspapers, primers, and encyclopaedias. +Of all people in the world the English have the least sense of the +beauty of literature." + +"I fear you are right," answered Mr. Erskine. "I myself used to have +literary ambitions, but I gave them up long ago. And now, my dear +young friend, if you will allow me to call you so, may I ask if you +really meant all that you said to us at lunch?" + +"I quite forget what I said," smiled Lord Henry. "Was it all very bad?" + +"Very bad indeed. In fact I consider you extremely dangerous, and if +anything happens to our good duchess, we shall all look on you as being +primarily responsible. But I should like to talk to you about life. +The generation into which I was born was tedious. Some day, when you +are tired of London, come down to Treadley and expound to me your +philosophy of pleasure over some admirable Burgundy I am fortunate +enough to possess." + +"I shall be charmed. A visit to Treadley would be a great privilege. +It has a perfect host, and a perfect library." + +"You will complete it," answered the old gentleman with a courteous +bow. "And now I must bid good-bye to your excellent aunt. I am due at +the Athenaeum. It is the hour when we sleep there." + +"All of you, Mr. Erskine?" + +"Forty of us, in forty arm-chairs. We are practising for an English +Academy of Letters." + +Lord Henry laughed and rose. "I am going to the park," he cried. + +As he was passing out of the door, Dorian Gray touched him on the arm. +"Let me come with you," he murmured. + +"But I thought you had promised Basil Hallward to go and see him," +answered Lord Henry. + +"I would sooner come with you; yes, I feel I must come with you. Do +let me. And you will promise to talk to me all the time? No one talks +so wonderfully as you do." + +"Ah! I have talked quite enough for to-day," said Lord Henry, smiling. +"All I want now is to look at life. You may come and look at it with +me, if you care to." + + + +CHAPTER 4 + +One afternoon, a month later, Dorian Gray was reclining in a luxurious +arm-chair, in the little library of Lord Henry's house in Mayfair. It +was, in its way, a very charming room, with its high panelled +wainscoting of olive-stained oak, its cream-coloured frieze and ceiling +of raised plasterwork, and its brickdust felt carpet strewn with silk, +long-fringed Persian rugs. On a tiny satinwood table stood a statuette +by Clodion, and beside it lay a copy of Les Cent Nouvelles, bound for +Margaret of Valois by Clovis Eve and powdered with the gilt daisies +that Queen had selected for her device. Some large blue china jars and +parrot-tulips were ranged on the mantelshelf, and through the small +leaded panes of the window streamed the apricot-coloured light of a +summer day in London. + +Lord Henry had not yet come in. He was always late on principle, his +principle being that punctuality is the thief of time. So the lad was +looking rather sulky, as with listless fingers he turned over the pages +of an elaborately illustrated edition of Manon Lescaut that he had +found in one of the book-cases. The formal monotonous ticking of the +Louis Quatorze clock annoyed him. Once or twice he thought of going +away. + +At last he heard a step outside, and the door opened. "How late you +are, Harry!" he murmured. + +"I am afraid it is not Harry, Mr. Gray," answered a shrill voice. + +He glanced quickly round and rose to his feet. "I beg your pardon. I +thought--" + +"You thought it was my husband. It is only his wife. You must let me +introduce myself. I know you quite well by your photographs. I think +my husband has got seventeen of them." + +"Not seventeen, Lady Henry?" + +"Well, eighteen, then. And I saw you with him the other night at the +opera." She laughed nervously as she spoke, and watched him with her +vague forget-me-not eyes. She was a curious woman, whose dresses +always looked as if they had been designed in a rage and put on in a +tempest. She was usually in love with somebody, and, as her passion +was never returned, she had kept all her illusions. She tried to look +picturesque, but only succeeded in being untidy. Her name was +Victoria, and she had a perfect mania for going to church. + +"That was at Lohengrin, Lady Henry, I think?" + +"Yes; it was at dear Lohengrin. I like Wagner's music better than +anybody's. It is so loud that one can talk the whole time without other +people hearing what one says. That is a great advantage, don't you +think so, Mr. Gray?" + +The same nervous staccato laugh broke from her thin lips, and her +fingers began to play with a long tortoise-shell paper-knife. + +Dorian smiled and shook his head: "I am afraid I don't think so, Lady +Henry. I never talk during music--at least, during good music. If one +hears bad music, it is one's duty to drown it in conversation." + +"Ah! that is one of Harry's views, isn't it, Mr. Gray? I always hear +Harry's views from his friends. It is the only way I get to know of +them. But you must not think I don't like good music. I adore it, but +I am afraid of it. It makes me too romantic. I have simply worshipped +pianists--two at a time, sometimes, Harry tells me. I don't know what +it is about them. Perhaps it is that they are foreigners. They all +are, ain't they? Even those that are born in England become foreigners +after a time, don't they? It is so clever of them, and such a +compliment to art. Makes it quite cosmopolitan, doesn't it? You have +never been to any of my parties, have you, Mr. Gray? You must come. I +can't afford orchids, but I spare no expense in foreigners. They make +one's rooms look so picturesque. But here is Harry! Harry, I came in +to look for you, to ask you something--I forget what it was--and I +found Mr. Gray here. We have had such a pleasant chat about music. We +have quite the same ideas. No; I think our ideas are quite different. +But he has been most pleasant. I am so glad I've seen him." + +"I am charmed, my love, quite charmed," said Lord Henry, elevating his +dark, crescent-shaped eyebrows and looking at them both with an amused +smile. "So sorry I am late, Dorian. I went to look after a piece of +old brocade in Wardour Street and had to bargain for hours for it. +Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing." + +"I am afraid I must be going," exclaimed Lady Henry, breaking an +awkward silence with her silly sudden laugh. "I have promised to drive +with the duchess. Good-bye, Mr. Gray. Good-bye, Harry. You are +dining out, I suppose? So am I. Perhaps I shall see you at Lady +Thornbury's." + +"I dare say, my dear," said Lord Henry, shutting the door behind her +as, looking like a bird of paradise that had been out all night in the +rain, she flitted out of the room, leaving a faint odour of +frangipanni. Then he lit a cigarette and flung himself down on the +sofa. + +"Never marry a woman with straw-coloured hair, Dorian," he said after a +few puffs. + +"Why, Harry?" + +"Because they are so sentimental." + +"But I like sentimental people." + +"Never marry at all, Dorian. Men marry because they are tired; women, +because they are curious: both are disappointed." + +"I don't think I am likely to marry, Harry. I am too much in love. +That is one of your aphorisms. I am putting it into practice, as I do +everything that you say." + +"Who are you in love with?" asked Lord Henry after a pause. + +"With an actress," said Dorian Gray, blushing. + +Lord Henry shrugged his shoulders. "That is a rather commonplace +_debut_." + +"You would not say so if you saw her, Harry." + +"Who is she?" + +"Her name is Sibyl Vane." + +"Never heard of her." + +"No one has. People will some day, however. She is a genius." + +"My dear boy, no woman is a genius. Women are a decorative sex. They +never have anything to say, but they say it charmingly. Women +represent the triumph of matter over mind, just as men represent the +triumph of mind over morals." + +"Harry, how can you?" + +"My dear Dorian, it is quite true. I am analysing women at present, so +I ought to know. The subject is not so abstruse as I thought it was. +I find that, ultimately, there are only two kinds of women, the plain +and the coloured. The plain women are very useful. If you want to +gain a reputation for respectability, you have merely to take them down +to supper. The other women are very charming. They commit one +mistake, however. They paint in order to try and look young. Our +grandmothers painted in order to try and talk brilliantly. _Rouge_ and +_esprit_ used to go together. That is all over now. As long as a woman +can look ten years younger than her own daughter, she is perfectly +satisfied. As for conversation, there are only five women in London +worth talking to, and two of these can't be admitted into decent +society. However, tell me about your genius. How long have you known +her?" + +"Ah! Harry, your views terrify me." + +"Never mind that. How long have you known her?" + +"About three weeks." + +"And where did you come across her?" + +"I will tell you, Harry, but you mustn't be unsympathetic about it. +After all, it never would have happened if I had not met you. You +filled me with a wild desire to know everything about life. For days +after I met you, something seemed to throb in my veins. As I lounged +in the park, or strolled down Piccadilly, I used to look at every one +who passed me and wonder, with a mad curiosity, what sort of lives they +led. Some of them fascinated me. Others filled me with terror. There +was an exquisite poison in the air. I had a passion for sensations.... +Well, one evening about seven o'clock, I determined to go out in search +of some adventure. I felt that this grey monstrous London of ours, +with its myriads of people, its sordid sinners, and its splendid sins, +as you once phrased it, must have something in store for me. I fancied +a thousand things. The mere danger gave me a sense of delight. I +remembered what you had said to me on that wonderful evening when we +first dined together, about the search for beauty being the real secret +of life. I don't know what I expected, but I went out and wandered +eastward, soon losing my way in a labyrinth of grimy streets and black +grassless squares. About half-past eight I passed by an absurd little +theatre, with great flaring gas-jets and gaudy play-bills. A hideous +Jew, in the most amazing waistcoat I ever beheld in my life, was +standing at the entrance, smoking a vile cigar. He had greasy +ringlets, and an enormous diamond blazed in the centre of a soiled +shirt. 'Have a box, my Lord?' he said, when he saw me, and he took off +his hat with an air of gorgeous servility. There was something about +him, Harry, that amused me. He was such a monster. You will laugh at +me, I know, but I really went in and paid a whole guinea for the +stage-box. To the present day I can't make out why I did so; and yet if +I hadn't--my dear Harry, if I hadn't--I should have missed the greatest +romance of my life. I see you are laughing. It is horrid of you!" + +"I am not laughing, Dorian; at least I am not laughing at you. But you +should not say the greatest romance of your life. You should say the +first romance of your life. You will always be loved, and you will +always be in love with love. A _grande passion_ is the privilege of +people who have nothing to do. That is the one use of the idle classes +of a country. Don't be afraid. There are exquisite things in store +for you. This is merely the beginning." + +"Do you think my nature so shallow?" cried Dorian Gray angrily. + +"No; I think your nature so deep." + +"How do you mean?" + +"My dear boy, the people who love only once in their lives are really +the shallow people. What they call their loyalty, and their fidelity, +I call either the lethargy of custom or their lack of imagination. +Faithfulness is to the emotional life what consistency is to the life +of the intellect--simply a confession of failure. Faithfulness! I +must analyse it some day. The passion for property is in it. There +are many things that we would throw away if we were not afraid that +others might pick them up. But I don't want to interrupt you. Go on +with your story." + +"Well, I found myself seated in a horrid little private box, with a +vulgar drop-scene staring me in the face. I looked out from behind the +curtain and surveyed the house. It was a tawdry affair, all Cupids and +cornucopias, like a third-rate wedding-cake. The gallery and pit were +fairly full, but the two rows of dingy stalls were quite empty, and +there was hardly a person in what I suppose they called the +dress-circle. Women went about with oranges and ginger-beer, and there +was a terrible consumption of nuts going on." + +"It must have been just like the palmy days of the British drama." + +"Just like, I should fancy, and very depressing. I began to wonder +what on earth I should do when I caught sight of the play-bill. What +do you think the play was, Harry?" + +"I should think 'The Idiot Boy', or 'Dumb but Innocent'. Our fathers +used to like that sort of piece, I believe. The longer I live, Dorian, +the more keenly I feel that whatever was good enough for our fathers is +not good enough for us. In art, as in politics, _les grandperes ont +toujours tort_." + +"This play was good enough for us, Harry. It was Romeo and Juliet. I +must admit that I was rather annoyed at the idea of seeing Shakespeare +done in such a wretched hole of a place. Still, I felt interested, in +a sort of way. At any rate, I determined to wait for the first act. +There was a dreadful orchestra, presided over by a young Hebrew who sat +at a cracked piano, that nearly drove me away, but at last the +drop-scene was drawn up and the play began. Romeo was a stout elderly +gentleman, with corked eyebrows, a husky tragedy voice, and a figure +like a beer-barrel. Mercutio was almost as bad. He was played by the +low-comedian, who had introduced gags of his own and was on most +friendly terms with the pit. They were both as grotesque as the +scenery, and that looked as if it had come out of a country-booth. But +Juliet! Harry, imagine a girl, hardly seventeen years of age, with a +little, flowerlike face, a small Greek head with plaited coils of +dark-brown hair, eyes that were violet wells of passion, lips that were +like the petals of a rose. She was the loveliest thing I had ever seen +in my life. You said to me once that pathos left you unmoved, but that +beauty, mere beauty, could fill your eyes with tears. I tell you, +Harry, I could hardly see this girl for the mist of tears that came +across me. And her voice--I never heard such a voice. It was very low +at first, with deep mellow notes that seemed to fall singly upon one's +ear. Then it became a little louder, and sounded like a flute or a +distant hautboy. In the garden-scene it had all the tremulous ecstasy +that one hears just before dawn when nightingales are singing. There +were moments, later on, when it had the wild passion of violins. You +know how a voice can stir one. Your voice and the voice of Sibyl Vane +are two things that I shall never forget. When I close my eyes, I hear +them, and each of them says something different. I don't know which to +follow. Why should I not love her? Harry, I do love her. She is +everything to me in life. Night after night I go to see her play. One +evening she is Rosalind, and the next evening she is Imogen. I have +seen her die in the gloom of an Italian tomb, sucking the poison from +her lover's lips. I have watched her wandering through the forest of +Arden, disguised as a pretty boy in hose and doublet and dainty cap. +She has been mad, and has come into the presence of a guilty king, and +given him rue to wear and bitter herbs to taste of. She has been +innocent, and the black hands of jealousy have crushed her reedlike +throat. I have seen her in every age and in every costume. Ordinary +women never appeal to one's imagination. They are limited to their +century. No glamour ever transfigures them. One knows their minds as +easily as one knows their bonnets. One can always find them. There is +no mystery in any of them. They ride in the park in the morning and +chatter at tea-parties in the afternoon. They have their stereotyped +smile and their fashionable manner. They are quite obvious. But an +actress! How different an actress is! Harry! why didn't you tell me +that the only thing worth loving is an actress?" + +"Because I have loved so many of them, Dorian." + +"Oh, yes, horrid people with dyed hair and painted faces." + +"Don't run down dyed hair and painted faces. There is an extraordinary +charm in them, sometimes," said Lord Henry. + +"I wish now I had not told you about Sibyl Vane." + +"You could not have helped telling me, Dorian. All through your life +you will tell me everything you do." + +"Yes, Harry, I believe that is true. I cannot help telling you things. +You have a curious influence over me. If I ever did a crime, I would +come and confess it to you. You would understand me." + +"People like you--the wilful sunbeams of life--don't commit crimes, +Dorian. But I am much obliged for the compliment, all the same. And +now tell me--reach me the matches, like a good boy--thanks--what are +your actual relations with Sibyl Vane?" + +Dorian Gray leaped to his feet, with flushed cheeks and burning eyes. +"Harry! Sibyl Vane is sacred!" + +"It is only the sacred things that are worth touching, Dorian," said +Lord Henry, with a strange touch of pathos in his voice. "But why +should you be annoyed? I suppose she will belong to you some day. +When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one +always ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a +romance. You know her, at any rate, I suppose?" + +"Of course I know her. On the first night I was at the theatre, the +horrid old Jew came round to the box after the performance was over and +offered to take me behind the scenes and introduce me to her. I was +furious with him, and told him that Juliet had been dead for hundreds +of years and that her body was lying in a marble tomb in Verona. I +think, from his blank look of amazement, that he was under the +impression that I had taken too much champagne, or something." + +"I am not surprised." + +"Then he asked me if I wrote for any of the newspapers. I told him I +never even read them. He seemed terribly disappointed at that, and +confided to me that all the dramatic critics were in a conspiracy +against him, and that they were every one of them to be bought." + +"I should not wonder if he was quite right there. But, on the other +hand, judging from their appearance, most of them cannot be at all +expensive." + +"Well, he seemed to think they were beyond his means," laughed Dorian. +"By this time, however, the lights were being put out in the theatre, +and I had to go. He wanted me to try some cigars that he strongly +recommended. I declined. The next night, of course, I arrived at the +place again. When he saw me, he made me a low bow and assured me that +I was a munificent patron of art. He was a most offensive brute, +though he had an extraordinary passion for Shakespeare. He told me +once, with an air of pride, that his five bankruptcies were entirely +due to 'The Bard,' as he insisted on calling him. He seemed to think +it a distinction." + +"It was a distinction, my dear Dorian--a great distinction. Most +people become bankrupt through having invested too heavily in the prose +of life. To have ruined one's self over poetry is an honour. But when +did you first speak to Miss Sibyl Vane?" + +"The third night. She had been playing Rosalind. I could not help +going round. I had thrown her some flowers, and she had looked at +me--at least I fancied that she had. The old Jew was persistent. He +seemed determined to take me behind, so I consented. It was curious my +not wanting to know her, wasn't it?" + +"No; I don't think so." + +"My dear Harry, why?" + +"I will tell you some other time. Now I want to know about the girl." + +"Sibyl? Oh, she was so shy and so gentle. There is something of a +child about her. Her eyes opened wide in exquisite wonder when I told +her what I thought of her performance, and she seemed quite unconscious +of her power. I think we were both rather nervous. The old Jew stood +grinning at the doorway of the dusty greenroom, making elaborate +speeches about us both, while we stood looking at each other like +children. He would insist on calling me 'My Lord,' so I had to assure +Sibyl that I was not anything of the kind. She said quite simply to +me, 'You look more like a prince. I must call you Prince Charming.'" + +"Upon my word, Dorian, Miss Sibyl knows how to pay compliments." + +"You don't understand her, Harry. She regarded me merely as a person +in a play. She knows nothing of life. She lives with her mother, a +faded tired woman who played Lady Capulet in a sort of magenta +dressing-wrapper on the first night, and looks as if she had seen +better days." + +"I know that look. It depresses me," murmured Lord Henry, examining +his rings. + +"The Jew wanted to tell me her history, but I said it did not interest +me." + +"You were quite right. There is always something infinitely mean about +other people's tragedies." + +"Sibyl is the only thing I care about. What is it to me where she came +from? From her little head to her little feet, she is absolutely and +entirely divine. Every night of my life I go to see her act, and every +night she is more marvellous." + +"That is the reason, I suppose, that you never dine with me now. I +thought you must have some curious romance on hand. You have; but it +is not quite what I expected." + +"My dear Harry, we either lunch or sup together every day, and I have +been to the opera with you several times," said Dorian, opening his +blue eyes in wonder. + +"You always come dreadfully late." + +"Well, I can't help going to see Sibyl play," he cried, "even if it is +only for a single act. I get hungry for her presence; and when I think +of the wonderful soul that is hidden away in that little ivory body, I +am filled with awe." + +"You can dine with me to-night, Dorian, can't you?" + +He shook his head. "To-night she is Imogen," he answered, "and +to-morrow night she will be Juliet." + +"When is she Sibyl Vane?" + +"Never." + +"I congratulate you." + +"How horrid you are! She is all the great heroines of the world in +one. She is more than an individual. You laugh, but I tell you she +has genius. I love her, and I must make her love me. You, who know +all the secrets of life, tell me how to charm Sibyl Vane to love me! I +want to make Romeo jealous. I want the dead lovers of the world to +hear our laughter and grow sad. I want a breath of our passion to stir +their dust into consciousness, to wake their ashes into pain. My God, +Harry, how I worship her!" He was walking up and down the room as he +spoke. Hectic spots of red burned on his cheeks. He was terribly +excited. + +Lord Henry watched him with a subtle sense of pleasure. How different +he was now from the shy frightened boy he had met in Basil Hallward's +studio! His nature had developed like a flower, had borne blossoms of +scarlet flame. Out of its secret hiding-place had crept his soul, and +desire had come to meet it on the way. + +"And what do you propose to do?" said Lord Henry at last. + +"I want you and Basil to come with me some night and see her act. I +have not the slightest fear of the result. You are certain to +acknowledge her genius. Then we must get her out of the Jew's hands. +She is bound to him for three years--at least for two years and eight +months--from the present time. I shall have to pay him something, of +course. When all that is settled, I shall take a West End theatre and +bring her out properly. She will make the world as mad as she has made +me." + +"That would be impossible, my dear boy." + +"Yes, she will. She has not merely art, consummate art-instinct, in +her, but she has personality also; and you have often told me that it +is personalities, not principles, that move the age." + +"Well, what night shall we go?" + +"Let me see. To-day is Tuesday. Let us fix to-morrow. She plays +Juliet to-morrow." + +"All right. The Bristol at eight o'clock; and I will get Basil." + +"Not eight, Harry, please. Half-past six. We must be there before the +curtain rises. You must see her in the first act, where she meets +Romeo." + +"Half-past six! What an hour! It will be like having a meat-tea, or +reading an English novel. It must be seven. No gentleman dines before +seven. Shall you see Basil between this and then? Or shall I write to +him?" + +"Dear Basil! I have not laid eyes on him for a week. It is rather +horrid of me, as he has sent me my portrait in the most wonderful +frame, specially designed by himself, and, though I am a little jealous +of the picture for being a whole month younger than I am, I must admit +that I delight in it. Perhaps you had better write to him. I don't +want to see him alone. He says things that annoy me. He gives me good +advice." + +Lord Henry smiled. "People are very fond of giving away what they need +most themselves. It is what I call the depth of generosity." + +"Oh, Basil is the best of fellows, but he seems to me to be just a bit +of a Philistine. Since I have known you, Harry, I have discovered +that." + +"Basil, my dear boy, puts everything that is charming in him into his +work. The consequence is that he has nothing left for life but his +prejudices, his principles, and his common sense. The only artists I +have ever known who are personally delightful are bad artists. Good +artists exist simply in what they make, and consequently are perfectly +uninteresting in what they are. A great poet, a really great poet, is +the most unpoetical of all creatures. But inferior poets are +absolutely fascinating. The worse their rhymes are, the more +picturesque they look. The mere fact of having published a book of +second-rate sonnets makes a man quite irresistible. He lives the +poetry that he cannot write. The others write the poetry that they +dare not realize." + +"I wonder is that really so, Harry?" said Dorian Gray, putting some +perfume on his handkerchief out of a large, gold-topped bottle that +stood on the table. "It must be, if you say it. And now I am off. +Imogen is waiting for me. Don't forget about to-morrow. Good-bye." + +As he left the room, Lord Henry's heavy eyelids drooped, and he began +to think. Certainly few people had ever interested him so much as +Dorian Gray, and yet the lad's mad adoration of some one else caused +him not the slightest pang of annoyance or jealousy. He was pleased by +it. It made him a more interesting study. He had been always +enthralled by the methods of natural science, but the ordinary +subject-matter of that science had seemed to him trivial and of no +import. And so he had begun by vivisecting himself, as he had ended by +vivisecting others. Human life--that appeared to him the one thing +worth investigating. Compared to it there was nothing else of any +value. It was true that as one watched life in its curious crucible of +pain and pleasure, one could not wear over one's face a mask of glass, +nor keep the sulphurous fumes from troubling the brain and making the +imagination turbid with monstrous fancies and misshapen dreams. There +were poisons so subtle that to know their properties one had to sicken +of them. There were maladies so strange that one had to pass through +them if one sought to understand their nature. And, yet, what a great +reward one received! How wonderful the whole world became to one! To +note the curious hard logic of passion, and the emotional coloured life +of the intellect--to observe where they met, and where they separated, +at what point they were in unison, and at what point they were at +discord--there was a delight in that! What matter what the cost was? +One could never pay too high a price for any sensation. + +He was conscious--and the thought brought a gleam of pleasure into his +brown agate eyes--that it was through certain words of his, musical +words said with musical utterance, that Dorian Gray's soul had turned +to this white girl and bowed in worship before her. To a large extent +the lad was his own creation. He had made him premature. That was +something. Ordinary people waited till life disclosed to them its +secrets, but to the few, to the elect, the mysteries of life were +revealed before the veil was drawn away. Sometimes this was the effect +of art, and chiefly of the art of literature, which dealt immediately +with the passions and the intellect. But now and then a complex +personality took the place and assumed the office of art, was indeed, +in its way, a real work of art, life having its elaborate masterpieces, +just as poetry has, or sculpture, or painting. + +Yes, the lad was premature. He was gathering his harvest while it was +yet spring. The pulse and passion of youth were in him, but he was +becoming self-conscious. It was delightful to watch him. With his +beautiful face, and his beautiful soul, he was a thing to wonder at. +It was no matter how it all ended, or was destined to end. He was like +one of those gracious figures in a pageant or a play, whose joys seem +to be remote from one, but whose sorrows stir one's sense of beauty, +and whose wounds are like red roses. + +Soul and body, body and soul--how mysterious they were! There was +animalism in the soul, and the body had its moments of spirituality. +The senses could refine, and the intellect could degrade. Who could +say where the fleshly impulse ceased, or the psychical impulse began? +How shallow were the arbitrary definitions of ordinary psychologists! +And yet how difficult to decide between the claims of the various +schools! Was the soul a shadow seated in the house of sin? Or was the +body really in the soul, as Giordano Bruno thought? The separation of +spirit from matter was a mystery, and the union of spirit with matter +was a mystery also. + +He began to wonder whether we could ever make psychology so absolute a +science that each little spring of life would be revealed to us. As it +was, we always misunderstood ourselves and rarely understood others. +Experience was of no ethical value. It was merely the name men gave to +their mistakes. Moralists had, as a rule, regarded it as a mode of +warning, had claimed for it a certain ethical efficacy in the formation +of character, had praised it as something that taught us what to follow +and showed us what to avoid. But there was no motive power in +experience. It was as little of an active cause as conscience itself. +All that it really demonstrated was that our future would be the same +as our past, and that the sin we had done once, and with loathing, we +would do many times, and with joy. + +It was clear to him that the experimental method was the only method by +which one could arrive at any scientific analysis of the passions; and +certainly Dorian Gray was a subject made to his hand, and seemed to +promise rich and fruitful results. His sudden mad love for Sibyl Vane +was a psychological phenomenon of no small interest. There was no +doubt that curiosity had much to do with it, curiosity and the desire +for new experiences, yet it was not a simple, but rather a very complex +passion. What there was in it of the purely sensuous instinct of +boyhood had been transformed by the workings of the imagination, +changed into something that seemed to the lad himself to be remote from +sense, and was for that very reason all the more dangerous. It was the +passions about whose origin we deceived ourselves that tyrannized most +strongly over us. Our weakest motives were those of whose nature we +were conscious. It often happened that when we thought we were +experimenting on others we were really experimenting on ourselves. + +While Lord Henry sat dreaming on these things, a knock came to the +door, and his valet entered and reminded him it was time to dress for +dinner. He got up and looked out into the street. The sunset had +smitten into scarlet gold the upper windows of the houses opposite. +The panes glowed like plates of heated metal. The sky above was like a +faded rose. He thought of his friend's young fiery-coloured life and +wondered how it was all going to end. + +When he arrived home, about half-past twelve o'clock, he saw a telegram +lying on the hall table. He opened it and found it was from Dorian +Gray. It was to tell him that he was engaged to be married to Sibyl +Vane. + + + +CHAPTER 5 + +"Mother, Mother, I am so happy!" whispered the girl, burying her face +in the lap of the faded, tired-looking woman who, with back turned to +the shrill intrusive light, was sitting in the one arm-chair that their +dingy sitting-room contained. "I am so happy!" she repeated, "and you +must be happy, too!" + +Mrs. Vane winced and put her thin, bismuth-whitened hands on her +daughter's head. "Happy!" she echoed, "I am only happy, Sibyl, when I +see you act. You must not think of anything but your acting. Mr. +Isaacs has been very good to us, and we owe him money." + +The girl looked up and pouted. "Money, Mother?" she cried, "what does +money matter? Love is more than money." + +"Mr. Isaacs has advanced us fifty pounds to pay off our debts and to +get a proper outfit for James. You must not forget that, Sibyl. Fifty +pounds is a very large sum. Mr. Isaacs has been most considerate." + +"He is not a gentleman, Mother, and I hate the way he talks to me," +said the girl, rising to her feet and going over to the window. + +"I don't know how we could manage without him," answered the elder +woman querulously. + +Sibyl Vane tossed her head and laughed. "We don't want him any more, +Mother. Prince Charming rules life for us now." Then she paused. A +rose shook in her blood and shadowed her cheeks. Quick breath parted +the petals of her lips. They trembled. Some southern wind of passion +swept over her and stirred the dainty folds of her dress. "I love +him," she said simply. + +"Foolish child! foolish child!" was the parrot-phrase flung in answer. +The waving of crooked, false-jewelled fingers gave grotesqueness to the +words. + +The girl laughed again. The joy of a caged bird was in her voice. Her +eyes caught the melody and echoed it in radiance, then closed for a +moment, as though to hide their secret. When they opened, the mist of +a dream had passed across them. + +Thin-lipped wisdom spoke at her from the worn chair, hinted at +prudence, quoted from that book of cowardice whose author apes the name +of common sense. She did not listen. She was free in her prison of +passion. Her prince, Prince Charming, was with her. She had called on +memory to remake him. She had sent her soul to search for him, and it +had brought him back. His kiss burned again upon her mouth. Her +eyelids were warm with his breath. + +Then wisdom altered its method and spoke of espial and discovery. This +young man might be rich. If so, marriage should be thought of. +Against the shell of her ear broke the waves of worldly cunning. The +arrows of craft shot by her. She saw the thin lips moving, and smiled. + +Suddenly she felt the need to speak. The wordy silence troubled her. +"Mother, Mother," she cried, "why does he love me so much? I know why +I love him. I love him because he is like what love himself should be. +But what does he see in me? I am not worthy of him. And yet--why, I +cannot tell--though I feel so much beneath him, I don't feel humble. I +feel proud, terribly proud. Mother, did you love my father as I love +Prince Charming?" + +The elder woman grew pale beneath the coarse powder that daubed her +cheeks, and her dry lips twitched with a spasm of pain. Sybil rushed +to her, flung her arms round her neck, and kissed her. "Forgive me, +Mother. I know it pains you to talk about our father. But it only +pains you because you loved him so much. Don't look so sad. I am as +happy to-day as you were twenty years ago. Ah! let me be happy for +ever!" + +"My child, you are far too young to think of falling in love. Besides, +what do you know of this young man? You don't even know his name. The +whole thing is most inconvenient, and really, when James is going away +to Australia, and I have so much to think of, I must say that you +should have shown more consideration. However, as I said before, if he +is rich ..." + +"Ah! Mother, Mother, let me be happy!" + +Mrs. Vane glanced at her, and with one of those false theatrical +gestures that so often become a mode of second nature to a +stage-player, clasped her in her arms. At this moment, the door opened +and a young lad with rough brown hair came into the room. He was +thick-set of figure, and his hands and feet were large and somewhat +clumsy in movement. He was not so finely bred as his sister. One +would hardly have guessed the close relationship that existed between +them. Mrs. Vane fixed her eyes on him and intensified her smile. She +mentally elevated her son to the dignity of an audience. She felt sure +that the _tableau_ was interesting. + +"You might keep some of your kisses for me, Sibyl, I think," said the +lad with a good-natured grumble. + +"Ah! but you don't like being kissed, Jim," she cried. "You are a +dreadful old bear." And she ran across the room and hugged him. + +James Vane looked into his sister's face with tenderness. "I want you +to come out with me for a walk, Sibyl. I don't suppose I shall ever +see this horrid London again. I am sure I don't want to." + +"My son, don't say such dreadful things," murmured Mrs. Vane, taking up +a tawdry theatrical dress, with a sigh, and beginning to patch it. She +felt a little disappointed that he had not joined the group. It would +have increased the theatrical picturesqueness of the situation. + +"Why not, Mother? I mean it." + +"You pain me, my son. I trust you will return from Australia in a +position of affluence. I believe there is no society of any kind in +the Colonies--nothing that I would call society--so when you have made +your fortune, you must come back and assert yourself in London." + +"Society!" muttered the lad. "I don't want to know anything about +that. I should like to make some money to take you and Sibyl off the +stage. I hate it." + +"Oh, Jim!" said Sibyl, laughing, "how unkind of you! But are you +really going for a walk with me? That will be nice! I was afraid you +were going to say good-bye to some of your friends--to Tom Hardy, who +gave you that hideous pipe, or Ned Langton, who makes fun of you for +smoking it. It is very sweet of you to let me have your last +afternoon. Where shall we go? Let us go to the park." + +"I am too shabby," he answered, frowning. "Only swell people go to the +park." + +"Nonsense, Jim," she whispered, stroking the sleeve of his coat. + +He hesitated for a moment. "Very well," he said at last, "but don't be +too long dressing." She danced out of the door. One could hear her +singing as she ran upstairs. Her little feet pattered overhead. + +He walked up and down the room two or three times. Then he turned to +the still figure in the chair. "Mother, are my things ready?" he asked. + +"Quite ready, James," she answered, keeping her eyes on her work. For +some months past she had felt ill at ease when she was alone with this +rough stern son of hers. Her shallow secret nature was troubled when +their eyes met. She used to wonder if he suspected anything. The +silence, for he made no other observation, became intolerable to her. +She began to complain. Women defend themselves by attacking, just as +they attack by sudden and strange surrenders. "I hope you will be +contented, James, with your sea-faring life," she said. "You must +remember that it is your own choice. You might have entered a +solicitor's office. Solicitors are a very respectable class, and in +the country often dine with the best families." + +"I hate offices, and I hate clerks," he replied. "But you are quite +right. I have chosen my own life. All I say is, watch over Sibyl. +Don't let her come to any harm. Mother, you must watch over her." + +"James, you really talk very strangely. Of course I watch over Sibyl." + +"I hear a gentleman comes every night to the theatre and goes behind to +talk to her. Is that right? What about that?" + +"You are speaking about things you don't understand, James. In the +profession we are accustomed to receive a great deal of most gratifying +attention. I myself used to receive many bouquets at one time. That +was when acting was really understood. As for Sibyl, I do not know at +present whether her attachment is serious or not. But there is no +doubt that the young man in question is a perfect gentleman. He is +always most polite to me. Besides, he has the appearance of being +rich, and the flowers he sends are lovely." + +"You don't know his name, though," said the lad harshly. + +"No," answered his mother with a placid expression in her face. "He +has not yet revealed his real name. I think it is quite romantic of +him. He is probably a member of the aristocracy." + +James Vane bit his lip. "Watch over Sibyl, Mother," he cried, "watch +over her." + +"My son, you distress me very much. Sibyl is always under my special +care. Of course, if this gentleman is wealthy, there is no reason why +she should not contract an alliance with him. I trust he is one of the +aristocracy. He has all the appearance of it, I must say. It might be +a most brilliant marriage for Sibyl. They would make a charming +couple. His good looks are really quite remarkable; everybody notices +them." + +The lad muttered something to himself and drummed on the window-pane +with his coarse fingers. He had just turned round to say something +when the door opened and Sibyl ran in. + +"How serious you both are!" she cried. "What is the matter?" + +"Nothing," he answered. "I suppose one must be serious sometimes. +Good-bye, Mother; I will have my dinner at five o'clock. Everything is +packed, except my shirts, so you need not trouble." + +"Good-bye, my son," she answered with a bow of strained stateliness. + +She was extremely annoyed at the tone he had adopted with her, and +there was something in his look that had made her feel afraid. + +"Kiss me, Mother," said the girl. Her flowerlike lips touched the +withered cheek and warmed its frost. + +"My child! my child!" cried Mrs. Vane, looking up to the ceiling in +search of an imaginary gallery. + +"Come, Sibyl," said her brother impatiently. He hated his mother's +affectations. + +They went out into the flickering, wind-blown sunlight and strolled +down the dreary Euston Road. The passersby glanced in wonder at the +sullen heavy youth who, in coarse, ill-fitting clothes, was in the +company of such a graceful, refined-looking girl. He was like a common +gardener walking with a rose. + +Jim frowned from time to time when he caught the inquisitive glance of +some stranger. He had that dislike of being stared at, which comes on +geniuses late in life and never leaves the commonplace. Sibyl, +however, was quite unconscious of the effect she was producing. Her +love was trembling in laughter on her lips. She was thinking of Prince +Charming, and, that she might think of him all the more, she did not +talk of him, but prattled on about the ship in which Jim was going to +sail, about the gold he was certain to find, about the wonderful +heiress whose life he was to save from the wicked, red-shirted +bushrangers. For he was not to remain a sailor, or a supercargo, or +whatever he was going to be. Oh, no! A sailor's existence was +dreadful. Fancy being cooped up in a horrid ship, with the hoarse, +hump-backed waves trying to get in, and a black wind blowing the masts +down and tearing the sails into long screaming ribands! He was to +leave the vessel at Melbourne, bid a polite good-bye to the captain, +and go off at once to the gold-fields. Before a week was over he was to +come across a large nugget of pure gold, the largest nugget that had +ever been discovered, and bring it down to the coast in a waggon +guarded by six mounted policemen. The bushrangers were to attack them +three times, and be defeated with immense slaughter. Or, no. He was +not to go to the gold-fields at all. They were horrid places, where +men got intoxicated, and shot each other in bar-rooms, and used bad +language. He was to be a nice sheep-farmer, and one evening, as he was +riding home, he was to see the beautiful heiress being carried off by a +robber on a black horse, and give chase, and rescue her. Of course, +she would fall in love with him, and he with her, and they would get +married, and come home, and live in an immense house in London. Yes, +there were delightful things in store for him. But he must be very +good, and not lose his temper, or spend his money foolishly. She was +only a year older than he was, but she knew so much more of life. He +must be sure, also, to write to her by every mail, and to say his +prayers each night before he went to sleep. God was very good, and +would watch over him. She would pray for him, too, and in a few years +he would come back quite rich and happy. + +The lad listened sulkily to her and made no answer. He was heart-sick +at leaving home. + +Yet it was not this alone that made him gloomy and morose. +Inexperienced though he was, he had still a strong sense of the danger +of Sibyl's position. This young dandy who was making love to her could +mean her no good. He was a gentleman, and he hated him for that, hated +him through some curious race-instinct for which he could not account, +and which for that reason was all the more dominant within him. He was +conscious also of the shallowness and vanity of his mother's nature, +and in that saw infinite peril for Sibyl and Sibyl's happiness. +Children begin by loving their parents; as they grow older they judge +them; sometimes they forgive them. + +His mother! He had something on his mind to ask of her, something that +he had brooded on for many months of silence. A chance phrase that he +had heard at the theatre, a whispered sneer that had reached his ears +one night as he waited at the stage-door, had set loose a train of +horrible thoughts. He remembered it as if it had been the lash of a +hunting-crop across his face. His brows knit together into a wedge-like +furrow, and with a twitch of pain he bit his underlip. + +"You are not listening to a word I am saying, Jim," cried Sibyl, "and I +am making the most delightful plans for your future. Do say something." + +"What do you want me to say?" + +"Oh! that you will be a good boy and not forget us," she answered, +smiling at him. + +He shrugged his shoulders. "You are more likely to forget me than I am +to forget you, Sibyl." + +She flushed. "What do you mean, Jim?" she asked. + +"You have a new friend, I hear. Who is he? Why have you not told me +about him? He means you no good." + +"Stop, Jim!" she exclaimed. "You must not say anything against him. I +love him." + +"Why, you don't even know his name," answered the lad. "Who is he? I +have a right to know." + +"He is called Prince Charming. Don't you like the name. Oh! you silly +boy! you should never forget it. If you only saw him, you would think +him the most wonderful person in the world. Some day you will meet +him--when you come back from Australia. You will like him so much. +Everybody likes him, and I ... love him. I wish you could come to the +theatre to-night. He is going to be there, and I am to play Juliet. +Oh! how I shall play it! Fancy, Jim, to be in love and play Juliet! +To have him sitting there! To play for his delight! I am afraid I may +frighten the company, frighten or enthrall them. To be in love is to +surpass one's self. Poor dreadful Mr. Isaacs will be shouting 'genius' +to his loafers at the bar. He has preached me as a dogma; to-night he +will announce me as a revelation. I feel it. And it is all his, his +only, Prince Charming, my wonderful lover, my god of graces. But I am +poor beside him. Poor? What does that matter? When poverty creeps in +at the door, love flies in through the window. Our proverbs want +rewriting. They were made in winter, and it is summer now; spring-time +for me, I think, a very dance of blossoms in blue skies." + +"He is a gentleman," said the lad sullenly. + +"A prince!" she cried musically. "What more do you want?" + +"He wants to enslave you." + +"I shudder at the thought of being free." + +"I want you to beware of him." + +"To see him is to worship him; to know him is to trust him." + +"Sibyl, you are mad about him." + +She laughed and took his arm. "You dear old Jim, you talk as if you +were a hundred. Some day you will be in love yourself. Then you will +know what it is. Don't look so sulky. Surely you should be glad to +think that, though you are going away, you leave me happier than I have +ever been before. Life has been hard for us both, terribly hard and +difficult. But it will be different now. You are going to a new +world, and I have found one. Here are two chairs; let us sit down and +see the smart people go by." + +They took their seats amidst a crowd of watchers. The tulip-beds +across the road flamed like throbbing rings of fire. A white +dust--tremulous cloud of orris-root it seemed--hung in the panting air. +The brightly coloured parasols danced and dipped like monstrous +butterflies. + +She made her brother talk of himself, his hopes, his prospects. He +spoke slowly and with effort. They passed words to each other as +players at a game pass counters. Sibyl felt oppressed. She could not +communicate her joy. A faint smile curving that sullen mouth was all +the echo she could win. After some time she became silent. Suddenly +she caught a glimpse of golden hair and laughing lips, and in an open +carriage with two ladies Dorian Gray drove past. + +She started to her feet. "There he is!" she cried. + +"Who?" said Jim Vane. + +"Prince Charming," she answered, looking after the victoria. + +He jumped up and seized her roughly by the arm. "Show him to me. +Which is he? Point him out. I must see him!" he exclaimed; but at +that moment the Duke of Berwick's four-in-hand came between, and when +it had left the space clear, the carriage had swept out of the park. + +"He is gone," murmured Sibyl sadly. "I wish you had seen him." + +"I wish I had, for as sure as there is a God in heaven, if he ever does +you any wrong, I shall kill him." + +She looked at him in horror. He repeated his words. They cut the air +like a dagger. The people round began to gape. A lady standing close +to her tittered. + +"Come away, Jim; come away," she whispered. He followed her doggedly +as she passed through the crowd. He felt glad at what he had said. + +When they reached the Achilles Statue, she turned round. There was +pity in her eyes that became laughter on her lips. She shook her head +at him. "You are foolish, Jim, utterly foolish; a bad-tempered boy, +that is all. How can you say such horrible things? You don't know +what you are talking about. You are simply jealous and unkind. Ah! I +wish you would fall in love. Love makes people good, and what you said +was wicked." + +"I am sixteen," he answered, "and I know what I am about. Mother is no +help to you. She doesn't understand how to look after you. I wish now +that I was not going to Australia at all. I have a great mind to chuck +the whole thing up. I would, if my articles hadn't been signed." + +"Oh, don't be so serious, Jim. You are like one of the heroes of those +silly melodramas Mother used to be so fond of acting in. I am not +going to quarrel with you. I have seen him, and oh! to see him is +perfect happiness. We won't quarrel. I know you would never harm any +one I love, would you?" + +"Not as long as you love him, I suppose," was the sullen answer. + +"I shall love him for ever!" she cried. + +"And he?" + +"For ever, too!" + +"He had better." + +She shrank from him. Then she laughed and put her hand on his arm. He +was merely a boy. + +At the Marble Arch they hailed an omnibus, which left them close to +their shabby home in the Euston Road. It was after five o'clock, and +Sibyl had to lie down for a couple of hours before acting. Jim +insisted that she should do so. He said that he would sooner part with +her when their mother was not present. She would be sure to make a +scene, and he detested scenes of every kind. + +In Sybil's own room they parted. There was jealousy in the lad's +heart, and a fierce murderous hatred of the stranger who, as it seemed +to him, had come between them. Yet, when her arms were flung round his +neck, and her fingers strayed through his hair, he softened and kissed +her with real affection. There were tears in his eyes as he went +downstairs. + +His mother was waiting for him below. She grumbled at his +unpunctuality, as he entered. He made no answer, but sat down to his +meagre meal. The flies buzzed round the table and crawled over the +stained cloth. Through the rumble of omnibuses, and the clatter of +street-cabs, he could hear the droning voice devouring each minute that +was left to him. + +After some time, he thrust away his plate and put his head in his +hands. He felt that he had a right to know. It should have been told +to him before, if it was as he suspected. Leaden with fear, his mother +watched him. Words dropped mechanically from her lips. A tattered +lace handkerchief twitched in her fingers. When the clock struck six, +he got up and went to the door. Then he turned back and looked at her. +Their eyes met. In hers he saw a wild appeal for mercy. It enraged +him. + +"Mother, I have something to ask you," he said. Her eyes wandered +vaguely about the room. She made no answer. "Tell me the truth. I +have a right to know. Were you married to my father?" + +She heaved a deep sigh. It was a sigh of relief. The terrible moment, +the moment that night and day, for weeks and months, she had dreaded, +had come at last, and yet she felt no terror. Indeed, in some measure +it was a disappointment to her. The vulgar directness of the question +called for a direct answer. The situation had not been gradually led +up to. It was crude. It reminded her of a bad rehearsal. + +"No," she answered, wondering at the harsh simplicity of life. + +"My father was a scoundrel then!" cried the lad, clenching his fists. + +She shook her head. "I knew he was not free. We loved each other very +much. If he had lived, he would have made provision for us. Don't +speak against him, my son. He was your father, and a gentleman. +Indeed, he was highly connected." + +An oath broke from his lips. "I don't care for myself," he exclaimed, +"but don't let Sibyl.... It is a gentleman, isn't it, who is in love +with her, or says he is? Highly connected, too, I suppose." + +For a moment a hideous sense of humiliation came over the woman. Her +head drooped. She wiped her eyes with shaking hands. "Sibyl has a +mother," she murmured; "I had none." + +The lad was touched. He went towards her, and stooping down, he kissed +her. "I am sorry if I have pained you by asking about my father," he +said, "but I could not help it. I must go now. Good-bye. Don't forget +that you will have only one child now to look after, and believe me +that if this man wrongs my sister, I will find out who he is, track him +down, and kill him like a dog. I swear it." + +The exaggerated folly of the threat, the passionate gesture that +accompanied it, the mad melodramatic words, made life seem more vivid +to her. She was familiar with the atmosphere. She breathed more +freely, and for the first time for many months she really admired her +son. She would have liked to have continued the scene on the same +emotional scale, but he cut her short. Trunks had to be carried down +and mufflers looked for. The lodging-house drudge bustled in and out. +There was the bargaining with the cabman. The moment was lost in +vulgar details. It was with a renewed feeling of disappointment that +she waved the tattered lace handkerchief from the window, as her son +drove away. She was conscious that a great opportunity had been +wasted. She consoled herself by telling Sibyl how desolate she felt +her life would be, now that she had only one child to look after. She +remembered the phrase. It had pleased her. Of the threat she said +nothing. It was vividly and dramatically expressed. She felt that +they would all laugh at it some day. + + + +CHAPTER 6 + +"I suppose you have heard the news, Basil?" said Lord Henry that +evening as Hallward was shown into a little private room at the Bristol +where dinner had been laid for three. + +"No, Harry," answered the artist, giving his hat and coat to the bowing +waiter. "What is it? Nothing about politics, I hope! They don't +interest me. There is hardly a single person in the House of Commons +worth painting, though many of them would be the better for a little +whitewashing." + +"Dorian Gray is engaged to be married," said Lord Henry, watching him +as he spoke. + +Hallward started and then frowned. "Dorian engaged to be married!" he +cried. "Impossible!" + +"It is perfectly true." + +"To whom?" + +"To some little actress or other." + +"I can't believe it. Dorian is far too sensible." + +"Dorian is far too wise not to do foolish things now and then, my dear +Basil." + +"Marriage is hardly a thing that one can do now and then, Harry." + +"Except in America," rejoined Lord Henry languidly. "But I didn't say +he was married. I said he was engaged to be married. There is a great +difference. I have a distinct remembrance of being married, but I have +no recollection at all of being engaged. I am inclined to think that I +never was engaged." + +"But think of Dorian's birth, and position, and wealth. It would be +absurd for him to marry so much beneath him." + +"If you want to make him marry this girl, tell him that, Basil. He is +sure to do it, then. Whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it +is always from the noblest motives." + +"I hope the girl is good, Harry. I don't want to see Dorian tied to +some vile creature, who might degrade his nature and ruin his +intellect." + +"Oh, she is better than good--she is beautiful," murmured Lord Henry, +sipping a glass of vermouth and orange-bitters. "Dorian says she is +beautiful, and he is not often wrong about things of that kind. Your +portrait of him has quickened his appreciation of the personal +appearance of other people. It has had that excellent effect, amongst +others. We are to see her to-night, if that boy doesn't forget his +appointment." + +"Are you serious?" + +"Quite serious, Basil. I should be miserable if I thought I should +ever be more serious than I am at the present moment." + +"But do you approve of it, Harry?" asked the painter, walking up and +down the room and biting his lip. "You can't approve of it, possibly. +It is some silly infatuation." + +"I never approve, or disapprove, of anything now. It is an absurd +attitude to take towards life. We are not sent into the world to air +our moral prejudices. I never take any notice of what common people +say, and I never interfere with what charming people do. If a +personality fascinates me, whatever mode of expression that personality +selects is absolutely delightful to me. Dorian Gray falls in love with +a beautiful girl who acts Juliet, and proposes to marry her. Why not? +If he wedded Messalina, he would be none the less interesting. You +know I am not a champion of marriage. The real drawback to marriage is +that it makes one unselfish. And unselfish people are colourless. +They lack individuality. Still, there are certain temperaments that +marriage makes more complex. They retain their egotism, and add to it +many other egos. They are forced to have more than one life. They +become more highly organized, and to be highly organized is, I should +fancy, the object of man's existence. Besides, every experience is of +value, and whatever one may say against marriage, it is certainly an +experience. I hope that Dorian Gray will make this girl his wife, +passionately adore her for six months, and then suddenly become +fascinated by some one else. He would be a wonderful study." + +"You don't mean a single word of all that, Harry; you know you don't. +If Dorian Gray's life were spoiled, no one would be sorrier than +yourself. You are much better than you pretend to be." + +Lord Henry laughed. "The reason we all like to think so well of others +is that we are all afraid for ourselves. The basis of optimism is +sheer terror. We think that we are generous because we credit our +neighbour with the possession of those virtues that are likely to be a +benefit to us. We praise the banker that we may overdraw our account, +and find good qualities in the highwayman in the hope that he may spare +our pockets. I mean everything that I have said. I have the greatest +contempt for optimism. As for a spoiled life, no life is spoiled but +one whose growth is arrested. If you want to mar a nature, you have +merely to reform it. As for marriage, of course that would be silly, +but there are other and more interesting bonds between men and women. +I will certainly encourage them. They have the charm of being +fashionable. But here is Dorian himself. He will tell you more than I +can." + +"My dear Harry, my dear Basil, you must both congratulate me!" said the +lad, throwing off his evening cape with its satin-lined wings and +shaking each of his friends by the hand in turn. "I have never been so +happy. Of course, it is sudden--all really delightful things are. And +yet it seems to me to be the one thing I have been looking for all my +life." He was flushed with excitement and pleasure, and looked +extraordinarily handsome. + +"I hope you will always be very happy, Dorian," said Hallward, "but I +don't quite forgive you for not having let me know of your engagement. +You let Harry know." + +"And I don't forgive you for being late for dinner," broke in Lord +Henry, putting his hand on the lad's shoulder and smiling as he spoke. +"Come, let us sit down and try what the new _chef_ here is like, and then +you will tell us how it all came about." + +"There is really not much to tell," cried Dorian as they took their +seats at the small round table. "What happened was simply this. After +I left you yesterday evening, Harry, I dressed, had some dinner at that +little Italian restaurant in Rupert Street you introduced me to, and +went down at eight o'clock to the theatre. Sibyl was playing Rosalind. +Of course, the scenery was dreadful and the Orlando absurd. But Sibyl! +You should have seen her! When she came on in her boy's clothes, she +was perfectly wonderful. She wore a moss-coloured velvet jerkin with +cinnamon sleeves, slim, brown, cross-gartered hose, a dainty little +green cap with a hawk's feather caught in a jewel, and a hooded cloak +lined with dull red. She had never seemed to me more exquisite. She +had all the delicate grace of that Tanagra figurine that you have in +your studio, Basil. Her hair clustered round her face like dark leaves +round a pale rose. As for her acting--well, you shall see her +to-night. She is simply a born artist. I sat in the dingy box +absolutely enthralled. I forgot that I was in London and in the +nineteenth century. I was away with my love in a forest that no man +had ever seen. After the performance was over, I went behind and spoke +to her. As we were sitting together, suddenly there came into her eyes +a look that I had never seen there before. My lips moved towards hers. +We kissed each other. I can't describe to you what I felt at that +moment. It seemed to me that all my life had been narrowed to one +perfect point of rose-coloured joy. She trembled all over and shook +like a white narcissus. Then she flung herself on her knees and kissed +my hands. I feel that I should not tell you all this, but I can't help +it. Of course, our engagement is a dead secret. She has not even told +her own mother. I don't know what my guardians will say. Lord Radley +is sure to be furious. I don't care. I shall be of age in less than a +year, and then I can do what I like. I have been right, Basil, haven't +I, to take my love out of poetry and to find my wife in Shakespeare's +plays? Lips that Shakespeare taught to speak have whispered their +secret in my ear. I have had the arms of Rosalind around me, and +kissed Juliet on the mouth." + +"Yes, Dorian, I suppose you were right," said Hallward slowly. + +"Have you seen her to-day?" asked Lord Henry. + +Dorian Gray shook his head. "I left her in the forest of Arden; I +shall find her in an orchard in Verona." + +Lord Henry sipped his champagne in a meditative manner. "At what +particular point did you mention the word marriage, Dorian? And what +did she say in answer? Perhaps you forgot all about it." + +"My dear Harry, I did not treat it as a business transaction, and I did +not make any formal proposal. I told her that I loved her, and she +said she was not worthy to be my wife. Not worthy! Why, the whole +world is nothing to me compared with her." + +"Women are wonderfully practical," murmured Lord Henry, "much more +practical than we are. In situations of that kind we often forget to +say anything about marriage, and they always remind us." + +Hallward laid his hand upon his arm. "Don't, Harry. You have annoyed +Dorian. He is not like other men. He would never bring misery upon +any one. His nature is too fine for that." + +Lord Henry looked across the table. "Dorian is never annoyed with me," +he answered. "I asked the question for the best reason possible, for +the only reason, indeed, that excuses one for asking any +question--simple curiosity. I have a theory that it is always the +women who propose to us, and not we who propose to the women. Except, +of course, in middle-class life. But then the middle classes are not +modern." + +Dorian Gray laughed, and tossed his head. "You are quite incorrigible, +Harry; but I don't mind. It is impossible to be angry with you. When +you see Sibyl Vane, you will feel that the man who could wrong her +would be a beast, a beast without a heart. I cannot understand how any +one can wish to shame the thing he loves. I love Sibyl Vane. I want +to place her on a pedestal of gold and to see the world worship the +woman who is mine. What is marriage? An irrevocable vow. You mock at +it for that. Ah! don't mock. It is an irrevocable vow that I want to +take. Her trust makes me faithful, her belief makes me good. When I +am with her, I regret all that you have taught me. I become different +from what you have known me to be. I am changed, and the mere touch of +Sibyl Vane's hand makes me forget you and all your wrong, fascinating, +poisonous, delightful theories." + +"And those are ...?" asked Lord Henry, helping himself to some salad. + +"Oh, your theories about life, your theories about love, your theories +about pleasure. All your theories, in fact, Harry." + +"Pleasure is the only thing worth having a theory about," he answered +in his slow melodious voice. "But I am afraid I cannot claim my theory +as my own. It belongs to Nature, not to me. Pleasure is Nature's +test, her sign of approval. When we are happy, we are always good, but +when we are good, we are not always happy." + +"Ah! but what do you mean by good?" cried Basil Hallward. + +"Yes," echoed Dorian, leaning back in his chair and looking at Lord +Henry over the heavy clusters of purple-lipped irises that stood in the +centre of the table, "what do you mean by good, Harry?" + +"To be good is to be in harmony with one's self," he replied, touching +the thin stem of his glass with his pale, fine-pointed fingers. +"Discord is to be forced to be in harmony with others. One's own +life--that is the important thing. As for the lives of one's +neighbours, if one wishes to be a prig or a Puritan, one can flaunt +one's moral views about them, but they are not one's concern. Besides, +individualism has really the higher aim. Modern morality consists in +accepting the standard of one's age. I consider that for any man of +culture to accept the standard of his age is a form of the grossest +immorality." + +"But, surely, if one lives merely for one's self, Harry, one pays a +terrible price for doing so?" suggested the painter. + +"Yes, we are overcharged for everything nowadays. I should fancy that +the real tragedy of the poor is that they can afford nothing but +self-denial. Beautiful sins, like beautiful things, are the privilege +of the rich." + +"One has to pay in other ways but money." + +"What sort of ways, Basil?" + +"Oh! I should fancy in remorse, in suffering, in ... well, in the +consciousness of degradation." + +Lord Henry shrugged his shoulders. "My dear fellow, mediaeval art is +charming, but mediaeval emotions are out of date. One can use them in +fiction, of course. But then the only things that one can use in +fiction are the things that one has ceased to use in fact. Believe me, +no civilized man ever regrets a pleasure, and no uncivilized man ever +knows what a pleasure is." + +"I know what pleasure is," cried Dorian Gray. "It is to adore some +one." + +"That is certainly better than being adored," he answered, toying with +some fruits. "Being adored is a nuisance. Women treat us just as +humanity treats its gods. They worship us, and are always bothering us +to do something for them." + +"I should have said that whatever they ask for they had first given to +us," murmured the lad gravely. "They create love in our natures. They +have a right to demand it back." + +"That is quite true, Dorian," cried Hallward. + +"Nothing is ever quite true," said Lord Henry. + +"This is," interrupted Dorian. "You must admit, Harry, that women give +to men the very gold of their lives." + +"Possibly," he sighed, "but they invariably want it back in such very +small change. That is the worry. Women, as some witty Frenchman once +put it, inspire us with the desire to do masterpieces and always +prevent us from carrying them out." + +"Harry, you are dreadful! I don't know why I like you so much." + +"You will always like me, Dorian," he replied. "Will you have some +coffee, you fellows? Waiter, bring coffee, and _fine-champagne_, and +some cigarettes. No, don't mind the cigarettes--I have some. Basil, I +can't allow you to smoke cigars. You must have a cigarette. A +cigarette is the perfect type of a perfect pleasure. It is exquisite, +and it leaves one unsatisfied. What more can one want? Yes, Dorian, +you will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you +have never had the courage to commit." + +"What nonsense you talk, Harry!" cried the lad, taking a light from a +fire-breathing silver dragon that the waiter had placed on the table. +"Let us go down to the theatre. When Sibyl comes on the stage you will +have a new ideal of life. She will represent something to you that you +have never known." + +"I have known everything," said Lord Henry, with a tired look in his +eyes, "but I am always ready for a new emotion. I am afraid, however, +that, for me at any rate, there is no such thing. Still, your +wonderful girl may thrill me. I love acting. It is so much more real +than life. Let us go. Dorian, you will come with me. I am so sorry, +Basil, but there is only room for two in the brougham. You must follow +us in a hansom." + +They got up and put on their coats, sipping their coffee standing. The +painter was silent and preoccupied. There was a gloom over him. He +could not bear this marriage, and yet it seemed to him to be better +than many other things that might have happened. After a few minutes, +they all passed downstairs. He drove off by himself, as had been +arranged, and watched the flashing lights of the little brougham in +front of him. A strange sense of loss came over him. He felt that +Dorian Gray would never again be to him all that he had been in the +past. Life had come between them.... His eyes darkened, and the +crowded flaring streets became blurred to his eyes. When the cab drew +up at the theatre, it seemed to him that he had grown years older. + + + +CHAPTER 7 + +For some reason or other, the house was crowded that night, and the fat +Jew manager who met them at the door was beaming from ear to ear with +an oily tremulous smile. He escorted them to their box with a sort of +pompous humility, waving his fat jewelled hands and talking at the top +of his voice. Dorian Gray loathed him more than ever. He felt as if +he had come to look for Miranda and had been met by Caliban. Lord +Henry, upon the other hand, rather liked him. At least he declared he +did, and insisted on shaking him by the hand and assuring him that he +was proud to meet a man who had discovered a real genius and gone +bankrupt over a poet. Hallward amused himself with watching the faces +in the pit. The heat was terribly oppressive, and the huge sunlight +flamed like a monstrous dahlia with petals of yellow fire. The youths +in the gallery had taken off their coats and waistcoats and hung them +over the side. They talked to each other across the theatre and shared +their oranges with the tawdry girls who sat beside them. Some women +were laughing in the pit. Their voices were horribly shrill and +discordant. The sound of the popping of corks came from the bar. + +"What a place to find one's divinity in!" said Lord Henry. + +"Yes!" answered Dorian Gray. "It was here I found her, and she is +divine beyond all living things. When she acts, you will forget +everything. These common rough people, with their coarse faces and +brutal gestures, become quite different when she is on the stage. They +sit silently and watch her. They weep and laugh as she wills them to +do. She makes them as responsive as a violin. She spiritualizes them, +and one feels that they are of the same flesh and blood as one's self." + +"The same flesh and blood as one's self! Oh, I hope not!" exclaimed +Lord Henry, who was scanning the occupants of the gallery through his +opera-glass. + +"Don't pay any attention to him, Dorian," said the painter. "I +understand what you mean, and I believe in this girl. Any one you love +must be marvellous, and any girl who has the effect you describe must +be fine and noble. To spiritualize one's age--that is something worth +doing. If this girl can give a soul to those who have lived without +one, if she can create the sense of beauty in people whose lives have +been sordid and ugly, if she can strip them of their selfishness and +lend them tears for sorrows that are not their own, she is worthy of +all your adoration, worthy of the adoration of the world. This +marriage is quite right. I did not think so at first, but I admit it +now. The gods made Sibyl Vane for you. Without her you would have +been incomplete." + +"Thanks, Basil," answered Dorian Gray, pressing his hand. "I knew that +you would understand me. Harry is so cynical, he terrifies me. But +here is the orchestra. It is quite dreadful, but it only lasts for +about five minutes. Then the curtain rises, and you will see the girl +to whom I am going to give all my life, to whom I have given everything +that is good in me." + +A quarter of an hour afterwards, amidst an extraordinary turmoil of +applause, Sibyl Vane stepped on to the stage. Yes, she was certainly +lovely to look at--one of the loveliest creatures, Lord Henry thought, +that he had ever seen. There was something of the fawn in her shy +grace and startled eyes. A faint blush, like the shadow of a rose in a +mirror of silver, came to her cheeks as she glanced at the crowded +enthusiastic house. She stepped back a few paces and her lips seemed +to tremble. Basil Hallward leaped to his feet and began to applaud. +Motionless, and as one in a dream, sat Dorian Gray, gazing at her. +Lord Henry peered through his glasses, murmuring, "Charming! charming!" + +The scene was the hall of Capulet's house, and Romeo in his pilgrim's +dress had entered with Mercutio and his other friends. The band, such +as it was, struck up a few bars of music, and the dance began. Through +the crowd of ungainly, shabbily dressed actors, Sibyl Vane moved like a +creature from a finer world. Her body swayed, while she danced, as a +plant sways in the water. The curves of her throat were the curves of +a white lily. Her hands seemed to be made of cool ivory. + +Yet she was curiously listless. She showed no sign of joy when her +eyes rested on Romeo. The few words she had to speak-- + + Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, + Which mannerly devotion shows in this; + For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, + And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss-- + +with the brief dialogue that follows, were spoken in a thoroughly +artificial manner. The voice was exquisite, but from the point of view +of tone it was absolutely false. It was wrong in colour. It took away +all the life from the verse. It made the passion unreal. + +Dorian Gray grew pale as he watched her. He was puzzled and anxious. +Neither of his friends dared to say anything to him. She seemed to +them to be absolutely incompetent. They were horribly disappointed. + +Yet they felt that the true test of any Juliet is the balcony scene of +the second act. They waited for that. If she failed there, there was +nothing in her. + +She looked charming as she came out in the moonlight. That could not +be denied. But the staginess of her acting was unbearable, and grew +worse as she went on. Her gestures became absurdly artificial. She +overemphasized everything that she had to say. The beautiful passage-- + + Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face, + Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek + For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night-- + +was declaimed with the painful precision of a schoolgirl who has been +taught to recite by some second-rate professor of elocution. When she +leaned over the balcony and came to those wonderful lines-- + + Although I joy in thee, + I have no joy of this contract to-night: + It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; + Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be + Ere one can say, "It lightens." Sweet, good-night! + This bud of love by summer's ripening breath + May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet-- + +she spoke the words as though they conveyed no meaning to her. It was +not nervousness. Indeed, so far from being nervous, she was absolutely +self-contained. It was simply bad art. She was a complete failure. + +Even the common uneducated audience of the pit and gallery lost their +interest in the play. They got restless, and began to talk loudly and +to whistle. The Jew manager, who was standing at the back of the +dress-circle, stamped and swore with rage. The only person unmoved was +the girl herself. + +When the second act was over, there came a storm of hisses, and Lord +Henry got up from his chair and put on his coat. "She is quite +beautiful, Dorian," he said, "but she can't act. Let us go." + +"I am going to see the play through," answered the lad, in a hard +bitter voice. "I am awfully sorry that I have made you waste an +evening, Harry. I apologize to you both." + +"My dear Dorian, I should think Miss Vane was ill," interrupted +Hallward. "We will come some other night." + +"I wish she were ill," he rejoined. "But she seems to me to be simply +callous and cold. She has entirely altered. Last night she was a +great artist. This evening she is merely a commonplace mediocre +actress." + +"Don't talk like that about any one you love, Dorian. Love is a more +wonderful thing than art." + +"They are both simply forms of imitation," remarked Lord Henry. "But +do let us go. Dorian, you must not stay here any longer. It is not +good for one's morals to see bad acting. Besides, I don't suppose you +will want your wife to act, so what does it matter if she plays Juliet +like a wooden doll? She is very lovely, and if she knows as little +about life as she does about acting, she will be a delightful +experience. There are only two kinds of people who are really +fascinating--people who know absolutely everything, and people who know +absolutely nothing. Good heavens, my dear boy, don't look so tragic! +The secret of remaining young is never to have an emotion that is +unbecoming. Come to the club with Basil and myself. We will smoke +cigarettes and drink to the beauty of Sibyl Vane. She is beautiful. +What more can you want?" + +"Go away, Harry," cried the lad. "I want to be alone. Basil, you must +go. Ah! can't you see that my heart is breaking?" The hot tears came +to his eyes. His lips trembled, and rushing to the back of the box, he +leaned up against the wall, hiding his face in his hands. + +"Let us go, Basil," said Lord Henry with a strange tenderness in his +voice, and the two young men passed out together. + +A few moments afterwards the footlights flared up and the curtain rose +on the third act. Dorian Gray went back to his seat. He looked pale, +and proud, and indifferent. The play dragged on, and seemed +interminable. Half of the audience went out, tramping in heavy boots +and laughing. The whole thing was a _fiasco_. The last act was played +to almost empty benches. The curtain went down on a titter and some +groans. + +As soon as it was over, Dorian Gray rushed behind the scenes into the +greenroom. The girl was standing there alone, with a look of triumph +on her face. Her eyes were lit with an exquisite fire. There was a +radiance about her. Her parted lips were smiling over some secret of +their own. + +When he entered, she looked at him, and an expression of infinite joy +came over her. "How badly I acted to-night, Dorian!" she cried. + +"Horribly!" he answered, gazing at her in amazement. "Horribly! It +was dreadful. Are you ill? You have no idea what it was. You have no +idea what I suffered." + +The girl smiled. "Dorian," she answered, lingering over his name with +long-drawn music in her voice, as though it were sweeter than honey to +the red petals of her mouth. "Dorian, you should have understood. But +you understand now, don't you?" + +"Understand what?" he asked, angrily. + +"Why I was so bad to-night. Why I shall always be bad. Why I shall +never act well again." + +He shrugged his shoulders. "You are ill, I suppose. When you are ill +you shouldn't act. You make yourself ridiculous. My friends were +bored. I was bored." + +She seemed not to listen to him. She was transfigured with joy. An +ecstasy of happiness dominated her. + +"Dorian, Dorian," she cried, "before I knew you, acting was the one +reality of my life. It was only in the theatre that I lived. I +thought that it was all true. I was Rosalind one night and Portia the +other. The joy of Beatrice was my joy, and the sorrows of Cordelia +were mine also. I believed in everything. The common people who acted +with me seemed to me to be godlike. The painted scenes were my world. +I knew nothing but shadows, and I thought them real. You came--oh, my +beautiful love!--and you freed my soul from prison. You taught me what +reality really is. To-night, for the first time in my life, I saw +through the hollowness, the sham, the silliness of the empty pageant in +which I had always played. To-night, for the first time, I became +conscious that the Romeo was hideous, and old, and painted, that the +moonlight in the orchard was false, that the scenery was vulgar, and +that the words I had to speak were unreal, were not my words, were not +what I wanted to say. You had brought me something higher, something +of which all art is but a reflection. You had made me understand what +love really is. My love! My love! Prince Charming! Prince of life! +I have grown sick of shadows. You are more to me than all art can ever +be. What have I to do with the puppets of a play? When I came on +to-night, I could not understand how it was that everything had gone +from me. I thought that I was going to be wonderful. I found that I +could do nothing. Suddenly it dawned on my soul what it all meant. +The knowledge was exquisite to me. I heard them hissing, and I smiled. +What could they know of love such as ours? Take me away, Dorian--take +me away with you, where we can be quite alone. I hate the stage. I +might mimic a passion that I do not feel, but I cannot mimic one that +burns me like fire. Oh, Dorian, Dorian, you understand now what it +signifies? Even if I could do it, it would be profanation for me to +play at being in love. You have made me see that." + +He flung himself down on the sofa and turned away his face. "You have +killed my love," he muttered. + +She looked at him in wonder and laughed. He made no answer. She came +across to him, and with her little fingers stroked his hair. She knelt +down and pressed his hands to her lips. He drew them away, and a +shudder ran through him. + +Then he leaped up and went to the door. "Yes," he cried, "you have +killed my love. You used to stir my imagination. Now you don't even +stir my curiosity. You simply produce no effect. I loved you because +you were marvellous, because you had genius and intellect, because you +realized the dreams of great poets and gave shape and substance to the +shadows of art. You have thrown it all away. You are shallow and +stupid. My God! how mad I was to love you! What a fool I have been! +You are nothing to me now. I will never see you again. I will never +think of you. I will never mention your name. You don't know what you +were to me, once. Why, once ... Oh, I can't bear to think of it! I +wish I had never laid eyes upon you! You have spoiled the romance of +my life. How little you can know of love, if you say it mars your art! +Without your art, you are nothing. I would have made you famous, +splendid, magnificent. The world would have worshipped you, and you +would have borne my name. What are you now? A third-rate actress with +a pretty face." + +The girl grew white, and trembled. She clenched her hands together, +and her voice seemed to catch in her throat. "You are not serious, +Dorian?" she murmured. "You are acting." + +"Acting! I leave that to you. You do it so well," he answered +bitterly. + +She rose from her knees and, with a piteous expression of pain in her +face, came across the room to him. She put her hand upon his arm and +looked into his eyes. He thrust her back. "Don't touch me!" he cried. + +A low moan broke from her, and she flung herself at his feet and lay +there like a trampled flower. "Dorian, Dorian, don't leave me!" she +whispered. "I am so sorry I didn't act well. I was thinking of you +all the time. But I will try--indeed, I will try. It came so suddenly +across me, my love for you. I think I should never have known it if +you had not kissed me--if we had not kissed each other. Kiss me again, +my love. Don't go away from me. I couldn't bear it. Oh! don't go +away from me. My brother ... No; never mind. He didn't mean it. He +was in jest.... But you, oh! can't you forgive me for to-night? I will +work so hard and try to improve. Don't be cruel to me, because I love +you better than anything in the world. After all, it is only once that +I have not pleased you. But you are quite right, Dorian. I should +have shown myself more of an artist. It was foolish of me, and yet I +couldn't help it. Oh, don't leave me, don't leave me." A fit of +passionate sobbing choked her. She crouched on the floor like a +wounded thing, and Dorian Gray, with his beautiful eyes, looked down at +her, and his chiselled lips curled in exquisite disdain. There is +always something ridiculous about the emotions of people whom one has +ceased to love. Sibyl Vane seemed to him to be absurdly melodramatic. +Her tears and sobs annoyed him. + +"I am going," he said at last in his calm clear voice. "I don't wish +to be unkind, but I can't see you again. You have disappointed me." + +She wept silently, and made no answer, but crept nearer. Her little +hands stretched blindly out, and appeared to be seeking for him. He +turned on his heel and left the room. In a few moments he was out of +the theatre. + +Where he went to he hardly knew. He remembered wandering through dimly +lit streets, past gaunt, black-shadowed archways and evil-looking +houses. Women with hoarse voices and harsh laughter had called after +him. Drunkards had reeled by, cursing and chattering to themselves +like monstrous apes. He had seen grotesque children huddled upon +door-steps, and heard shrieks and oaths from gloomy courts. + +As the dawn was just breaking, he found himself close to Covent Garden. +The darkness lifted, and, flushed with faint fires, the sky hollowed +itself into a perfect pearl. Huge carts filled with nodding lilies +rumbled slowly down the polished empty street. The air was heavy with +the perfume of the flowers, and their beauty seemed to bring him an +anodyne for his pain. He followed into the market and watched the men +unloading their waggons. A white-smocked carter offered him some +cherries. He thanked him, wondered why he refused to accept any money +for them, and began to eat them listlessly. They had been plucked at +midnight, and the coldness of the moon had entered into them. A long +line of boys carrying crates of striped tulips, and of yellow and red +roses, defiled in front of him, threading their way through the huge, +jade-green piles of vegetables. Under the portico, with its grey, +sun-bleached pillars, loitered a troop of draggled bareheaded girls, +waiting for the auction to be over. Others crowded round the swinging +doors of the coffee-house in the piazza. The heavy cart-horses slipped +and stamped upon the rough stones, shaking their bells and trappings. +Some of the drivers were lying asleep on a pile of sacks. Iris-necked +and pink-footed, the pigeons ran about picking up seeds. + +After a little while, he hailed a hansom and drove home. For a few +moments he loitered upon the doorstep, looking round at the silent +square, with its blank, close-shuttered windows and its staring blinds. +The sky was pure opal now, and the roofs of the houses glistened like +silver against it. From some chimney opposite a thin wreath of smoke +was rising. It curled, a violet riband, through the nacre-coloured air. + +In the huge gilt Venetian lantern, spoil of some Doge's barge, that +hung from the ceiling of the great, oak-panelled hall of entrance, +lights were still burning from three flickering jets: thin blue petals +of flame they seemed, rimmed with white fire. He turned them out and, +having thrown his hat and cape on the table, passed through the library +towards the door of his bedroom, a large octagonal chamber on the +ground floor that, in his new-born feeling for luxury, he had just had +decorated for himself and hung with some curious Renaissance tapestries +that had been discovered stored in a disused attic at Selby Royal. As +he was turning the handle of the door, his eye fell upon the portrait +Basil Hallward had painted of him. He started back as if in surprise. +Then he went on into his own room, looking somewhat puzzled. After he +had taken the button-hole out of his coat, he seemed to hesitate. +Finally, he came back, went over to the picture, and examined it. In +the dim arrested light that struggled through the cream-coloured silk +blinds, the face appeared to him to be a little changed. The +expression looked different. One would have said that there was a +touch of cruelty in the mouth. It was certainly strange. + +He turned round and, walking to the window, drew up the blind. The +bright dawn flooded the room and swept the fantastic shadows into dusky +corners, where they lay shuddering. But the strange expression that he +had noticed in the face of the portrait seemed to linger there, to be +more intensified even. The quivering ardent sunlight showed him the +lines of cruelty round the mouth as clearly as if he had been looking +into a mirror after he had done some dreadful thing. + +He winced and, taking up from the table an oval glass framed in ivory +Cupids, one of Lord Henry's many presents to him, glanced hurriedly +into its polished depths. No line like that warped his red lips. What +did it mean? + +He rubbed his eyes, and came close to the picture, and examined it +again. There were no signs of any change when he looked into the +actual painting, and yet there was no doubt that the whole expression +had altered. It was not a mere fancy of his own. The thing was +horribly apparent. + +He threw himself into a chair and began to think. Suddenly there +flashed across his mind what he had said in Basil Hallward's studio the +day the picture had been finished. Yes, he remembered it perfectly. +He had uttered a mad wish that he himself might remain young, and the +portrait grow old; that his own beauty might be untarnished, and the +face on the canvas bear the burden of his passions and his sins; that +the painted image might be seared with the lines of suffering and +thought, and that he might keep all the delicate bloom and loveliness +of his then just conscious boyhood. Surely his wish had not been +fulfilled? Such things were impossible. It seemed monstrous even to +think of them. And, yet, there was the picture before him, with the +touch of cruelty in the mouth. + +Cruelty! Had he been cruel? It was the girl's fault, not his. He had +dreamed of her as a great artist, had given his love to her because he +had thought her great. Then she had disappointed him. She had been +shallow and unworthy. And, yet, a feeling of infinite regret came over +him, as he thought of her lying at his feet sobbing like a little +child. He remembered with what callousness he had watched her. Why +had he been made like that? Why had such a soul been given to him? +But he had suffered also. During the three terrible hours that the +play had lasted, he had lived centuries of pain, aeon upon aeon of +torture. His life was well worth hers. She had marred him for a +moment, if he had wounded her for an age. Besides, women were better +suited to bear sorrow than men. They lived on their emotions. They +only thought of their emotions. When they took lovers, it was merely +to have some one with whom they could have scenes. Lord Henry had told +him that, and Lord Henry knew what women were. Why should he trouble +about Sibyl Vane? She was nothing to him now. + +But the picture? What was he to say of that? It held the secret of +his life, and told his story. It had taught him to love his own +beauty. Would it teach him to loathe his own soul? Would he ever look +at it again? + +No; it was merely an illusion wrought on the troubled senses. The +horrible night that he had passed had left phantoms behind it. +Suddenly there had fallen upon his brain that tiny scarlet speck that +makes men mad. The picture had not changed. It was folly to think so. + +Yet it was watching him, with its beautiful marred face and its cruel +smile. Its bright hair gleamed in the early sunlight. Its blue eyes +met his own. A sense of infinite pity, not for himself, but for the +painted image of himself, came over him. It had altered already, and +would alter more. Its gold would wither into grey. Its red and white +roses would die. For every sin that he committed, a stain would fleck +and wreck its fairness. But he would not sin. The picture, changed or +unchanged, would be to him the visible emblem of conscience. He would +resist temptation. He would not see Lord Henry any more--would not, at +any rate, listen to those subtle poisonous theories that in Basil +Hallward's garden had first stirred within him the passion for +impossible things. He would go back to Sibyl Vane, make her amends, +marry her, try to love her again. Yes, it was his duty to do so. She +must have suffered more than he had. Poor child! He had been selfish +and cruel to her. The fascination that she had exercised over him +would return. They would be happy together. His life with her would +be beautiful and pure. + +He got up from his chair and drew a large screen right in front of the +portrait, shuddering as he glanced at it. "How horrible!" he murmured +to himself, and he walked across to the window and opened it. When he +stepped out on to the grass, he drew a deep breath. The fresh morning +air seemed to drive away all his sombre passions. He thought only of +Sibyl. A faint echo of his love came back to him. He repeated her +name over and over again. The birds that were singing in the +dew-drenched garden seemed to be telling the flowers about her. + + + +CHAPTER 8 + +It was long past noon when he awoke. His valet had crept several times +on tiptoe into the room to see if he was stirring, and had wondered +what made his young master sleep so late. Finally his bell sounded, +and Victor came in softly with a cup of tea, and a pile of letters, on +a small tray of old Sevres china, and drew back the olive-satin +curtains, with their shimmering blue lining, that hung in front of the +three tall windows. + +"Monsieur has well slept this morning," he said, smiling. + +"What o'clock is it, Victor?" asked Dorian Gray drowsily. + +"One hour and a quarter, Monsieur." + +How late it was! He sat up, and having sipped some tea, turned over +his letters. One of them was from Lord Henry, and had been brought by +hand that morning. He hesitated for a moment, and then put it aside. +The others he opened listlessly. They contained the usual collection +of cards, invitations to dinner, tickets for private views, programmes +of charity concerts, and the like that are showered on fashionable +young men every morning during the season. There was a rather heavy +bill for a chased silver Louis-Quinze toilet-set that he had not yet +had the courage to send on to his guardians, who were extremely +old-fashioned people and did not realize that we live in an age when +unnecessary things are our only necessities; and there were several +very courteously worded communications from Jermyn Street money-lenders +offering to advance any sum of money at a moment's notice and at the +most reasonable rates of interest. + +After about ten minutes he got up, and throwing on an elaborate +dressing-gown of silk-embroidered cashmere wool, passed into the +onyx-paved bathroom. The cool water refreshed him after his long +sleep. He seemed to have forgotten all that he had gone through. A +dim sense of having taken part in some strange tragedy came to him once +or twice, but there was the unreality of a dream about it. + +As soon as he was dressed, he went into the library and sat down to a +light French breakfast that had been laid out for him on a small round +table close to the open window. It was an exquisite day. The warm air +seemed laden with spices. A bee flew in and buzzed round the +blue-dragon bowl that, filled with sulphur-yellow roses, stood before +him. He felt perfectly happy. + +Suddenly his eye fell on the screen that he had placed in front of the +portrait, and he started. + +"Too cold for Monsieur?" asked his valet, putting an omelette on the +table. "I shut the window?" + +Dorian shook his head. "I am not cold," he murmured. + +Was it all true? Had the portrait really changed? Or had it been +simply his own imagination that had made him see a look of evil where +there had been a look of joy? Surely a painted canvas could not alter? +The thing was absurd. It would serve as a tale to tell Basil some day. +It would make him smile. + +And, yet, how vivid was his recollection of the whole thing! First in +the dim twilight, and then in the bright dawn, he had seen the touch of +cruelty round the warped lips. He almost dreaded his valet leaving the +room. He knew that when he was alone he would have to examine the +portrait. He was afraid of certainty. When the coffee and cigarettes +had been brought and the man turned to go, he felt a wild desire to +tell him to remain. As the door was closing behind him, he called him +back. The man stood waiting for his orders. Dorian looked at him for +a moment. "I am not at home to any one, Victor," he said with a sigh. +The man bowed and retired. + +Then he rose from the table, lit a cigarette, and flung himself down on +a luxuriously cushioned couch that stood facing the screen. The screen +was an old one, of gilt Spanish leather, stamped and wrought with a +rather florid Louis-Quatorze pattern. He scanned it curiously, +wondering if ever before it had concealed the secret of a man's life. + +Should he move it aside, after all? Why not let it stay there? What +was the use of knowing? If the thing was true, it was terrible. If it +was not true, why trouble about it? But what if, by some fate or +deadlier chance, eyes other than his spied behind and saw the horrible +change? What should he do if Basil Hallward came and asked to look at +his own picture? Basil would be sure to do that. No; the thing had to +be examined, and at once. Anything would be better than this dreadful +state of doubt. + +He got up and locked both doors. At least he would be alone when he +looked upon the mask of his shame. Then he drew the screen aside and +saw himself face to face. It was perfectly true. The portrait had +altered. + +As he often remembered afterwards, and always with no small wonder, he +found himself at first gazing at the portrait with a feeling of almost +scientific interest. That such a change should have taken place was +incredible to him. And yet it was a fact. Was there some subtle +affinity between the chemical atoms that shaped themselves into form +and colour on the canvas and the soul that was within him? Could it be +that what that soul thought, they realized?--that what it dreamed, they +made true? Or was there some other, more terrible reason? He +shuddered, and felt afraid, and, going back to the couch, lay there, +gazing at the picture in sickened horror. + +One thing, however, he felt that it had done for him. It had made him +conscious how unjust, how cruel, he had been to Sibyl Vane. It was not +too late to make reparation for that. She could still be his wife. +His unreal and selfish love would yield to some higher influence, would +be transformed into some nobler passion, and the portrait that Basil +Hallward had painted of him would be a guide to him through life, would +be to him what holiness is to some, and conscience to others, and the +fear of God to us all. There were opiates for remorse, drugs that +could lull the moral sense to sleep. But here was a visible symbol of +the degradation of sin. Here was an ever-present sign of the ruin men +brought upon their souls. + +Three o'clock struck, and four, and the half-hour rang its double +chime, but Dorian Gray did not stir. He was trying to gather up the +scarlet threads of life and to weave them into a pattern; to find his +way through the sanguine labyrinth of passion through which he was +wandering. He did not know what to do, or what to think. Finally, he +went over to the table and wrote a passionate letter to the girl he had +loved, imploring her forgiveness and accusing himself of madness. He +covered page after page with wild words of sorrow and wilder words of +pain. There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves, we +feel that no one else has a right to blame us. It is the confession, +not the priest, that gives us absolution. When Dorian had finished the +letter, he felt that he had been forgiven. + +Suddenly there came a knock to the door, and he heard Lord Henry's +voice outside. "My dear boy, I must see you. Let me in at once. I +can't bear your shutting yourself up like this." + +He made no answer at first, but remained quite still. The knocking +still continued and grew louder. Yes, it was better to let Lord Henry +in, and to explain to him the new life he was going to lead, to quarrel +with him if it became necessary to quarrel, to part if parting was +inevitable. He jumped up, drew the screen hastily across the picture, +and unlocked the door. + +"I am so sorry for it all, Dorian," said Lord Henry as he entered. +"But you must not think too much about it." + +"Do you mean about Sibyl Vane?" asked the lad. + +"Yes, of course," answered Lord Henry, sinking into a chair and slowly +pulling off his yellow gloves. "It is dreadful, from one point of +view, but it was not your fault. Tell me, did you go behind and see +her, after the play was over?" + +"Yes." + +"I felt sure you had. Did you make a scene with her?" + +"I was brutal, Harry--perfectly brutal. But it is all right now. I am +not sorry for anything that has happened. It has taught me to know +myself better." + +"Ah, Dorian, I am so glad you take it in that way! I was afraid I +would find you plunged in remorse and tearing that nice curly hair of +yours." + +"I have got through all that," said Dorian, shaking his head and +smiling. "I am perfectly happy now. I know what conscience is, to +begin with. It is not what you told me it was. It is the divinest +thing in us. Don't sneer at it, Harry, any more--at least not before +me. I want to be good. I can't bear the idea of my soul being +hideous." + +"A very charming artistic basis for ethics, Dorian! I congratulate you +on it. But how are you going to begin?" + +"By marrying Sibyl Vane." + +"Marrying Sibyl Vane!" cried Lord Henry, standing up and looking at him +in perplexed amazement. "But, my dear Dorian--" + +"Yes, Harry, I know what you are going to say. Something dreadful +about marriage. Don't say it. Don't ever say things of that kind to +me again. Two days ago I asked Sibyl to marry me. I am not going to +break my word to her. She is to be my wife." + +"Your wife! Dorian! ... Didn't you get my letter? I wrote to you this +morning, and sent the note down by my own man." + +"Your letter? Oh, yes, I remember. I have not read it yet, Harry. I +was afraid there might be something in it that I wouldn't like. You +cut life to pieces with your epigrams." + +"You know nothing then?" + +"What do you mean?" + +Lord Henry walked across the room, and sitting down by Dorian Gray, +took both his hands in his own and held them tightly. "Dorian," he +said, "my letter--don't be frightened--was to tell you that Sibyl Vane +is dead." + +A cry of pain broke from the lad's lips, and he leaped to his feet, +tearing his hands away from Lord Henry's grasp. "Dead! Sibyl dead! +It is not true! It is a horrible lie! How dare you say it?" + +"It is quite true, Dorian," said Lord Henry, gravely. "It is in all +the morning papers. I wrote down to you to ask you not to see any one +till I came. There will have to be an inquest, of course, and you must +not be mixed up in it. Things like that make a man fashionable in +Paris. But in London people are so prejudiced. Here, one should never +make one's _debut_ with a scandal. One should reserve that to give an +interest to one's old age. I suppose they don't know your name at the +theatre? If they don't, it is all right. Did any one see you going +round to her room? That is an important point." + +Dorian did not answer for a few moments. He was dazed with horror. +Finally he stammered, in a stifled voice, "Harry, did you say an +inquest? What did you mean by that? Did Sibyl--? Oh, Harry, I can't +bear it! But be quick. Tell me everything at once." + +"I have no doubt it was not an accident, Dorian, though it must be put +in that way to the public. It seems that as she was leaving the +theatre with her mother, about half-past twelve or so, she said she had +forgotten something upstairs. They waited some time for her, but she +did not come down again. They ultimately found her lying dead on the +floor of her dressing-room. She had swallowed something by mistake, +some dreadful thing they use at theatres. I don't know what it was, +but it had either prussic acid or white lead in it. I should fancy it +was prussic acid, as she seems to have died instantaneously." + +"Harry, Harry, it is terrible!" cried the lad. + +"Yes; it is very tragic, of course, but you must not get yourself mixed +up in it. I see by _The Standard_ that she was seventeen. I should have +thought she was almost younger than that. She looked such a child, and +seemed to know so little about acting. Dorian, you mustn't let this +thing get on your nerves. You must come and dine with me, and +afterwards we will look in at the opera. It is a Patti night, and +everybody will be there. You can come to my sister's box. She has got +some smart women with her." + +"So I have murdered Sibyl Vane," said Dorian Gray, half to himself, +"murdered her as surely as if I had cut her little throat with a knife. +Yet the roses are not less lovely for all that. The birds sing just as +happily in my garden. And to-night I am to dine with you, and then go +on to the opera, and sup somewhere, I suppose, afterwards. How +extraordinarily dramatic life is! If I had read all this in a book, +Harry, I think I would have wept over it. Somehow, now that it has +happened actually, and to me, it seems far too wonderful for tears. +Here is the first passionate love-letter I have ever written in my +life. Strange, that my first passionate love-letter should have been +addressed to a dead girl. Can they feel, I wonder, those white silent +people we call the dead? Sibyl! Can she feel, or know, or listen? +Oh, Harry, how I loved her once! It seems years ago to me now. She +was everything to me. Then came that dreadful night--was it really +only last night?--when she played so badly, and my heart almost broke. +She explained it all to me. It was terribly pathetic. But I was not +moved a bit. I thought her shallow. Suddenly something happened that +made me afraid. I can't tell you what it was, but it was terrible. I +said I would go back to her. I felt I had done wrong. And now she is +dead. My God! My God! Harry, what shall I do? You don't know the +danger I am in, and there is nothing to keep me straight. She would +have done that for me. She had no right to kill herself. It was +selfish of her." + +"My dear Dorian," answered Lord Henry, taking a cigarette from his case +and producing a gold-latten matchbox, "the only way a woman can ever +reform a man is by boring him so completely that he loses all possible +interest in life. If you had married this girl, you would have been +wretched. Of course, you would have treated her kindly. One can +always be kind to people about whom one cares nothing. But she would +have soon found out that you were absolutely indifferent to her. And +when a woman finds that out about her husband, she either becomes +dreadfully dowdy, or wears very smart bonnets that some other woman's +husband has to pay for. I say nothing about the social mistake, which +would have been abject--which, of course, I would not have allowed--but +I assure you that in any case the whole thing would have been an +absolute failure." + +"I suppose it would," muttered the lad, walking up and down the room +and looking horribly pale. "But I thought it was my duty. It is not +my fault that this terrible tragedy has prevented my doing what was +right. I remember your saying once that there is a fatality about good +resolutions--that they are always made too late. Mine certainly were." + +"Good resolutions are useless attempts to interfere with scientific +laws. Their origin is pure vanity. Their result is absolutely _nil_. +They give us, now and then, some of those luxurious sterile emotions +that have a certain charm for the weak. That is all that can be said +for them. They are simply cheques that men draw on a bank where they +have no account." + +"Harry," cried Dorian Gray, coming over and sitting down beside him, +"why is it that I cannot feel this tragedy as much as I want to? I +don't think I am heartless. Do you?" + +"You have done too many foolish things during the last fortnight to be +entitled to give yourself that name, Dorian," answered Lord Henry with +his sweet melancholy smile. + +The lad frowned. "I don't like that explanation, Harry," he rejoined, +"but I am glad you don't think I am heartless. I am nothing of the +kind. I know I am not. And yet I must admit that this thing that has +happened does not affect me as it should. It seems to me to be simply +like a wonderful ending to a wonderful play. It has all the terrible +beauty of a Greek tragedy, a tragedy in which I took a great part, but +by which I have not been wounded." + +"It is an interesting question," said Lord Henry, who found an +exquisite pleasure in playing on the lad's unconscious egotism, "an +extremely interesting question. I fancy that the true explanation is +this: It often happens that the real tragedies of life occur in such +an inartistic manner that they hurt us by their crude violence, their +absolute incoherence, their absurd want of meaning, their entire lack +of style. They affect us just as vulgarity affects us. They give us +an impression of sheer brute force, and we revolt against that. +Sometimes, however, a tragedy that possesses artistic elements of +beauty crosses our lives. If these elements of beauty are real, the +whole thing simply appeals to our sense of dramatic effect. Suddenly +we find that we are no longer the actors, but the spectators of the +play. Or rather we are both. We watch ourselves, and the mere wonder +of the spectacle enthralls us. In the present case, what is it that +has really happened? Some one has killed herself for love of you. I +wish that I had ever had such an experience. It would have made me in +love with love for the rest of my life. The people who have adored +me--there have not been very many, but there have been some--have +always insisted on living on, long after I had ceased to care for them, +or they to care for me. They have become stout and tedious, and when I +meet them, they go in at once for reminiscences. That awful memory of +woman! What a fearful thing it is! And what an utter intellectual +stagnation it reveals! One should absorb the colour of life, but one +should never remember its details. Details are always vulgar." + +"I must sow poppies in my garden," sighed Dorian. + +"There is no necessity," rejoined his companion. "Life has always +poppies in her hands. Of course, now and then things linger. I once +wore nothing but violets all through one season, as a form of artistic +mourning for a romance that would not die. Ultimately, however, it did +die. I forget what killed it. I think it was her proposing to +sacrifice the whole world for me. That is always a dreadful moment. +It fills one with the terror of eternity. Well--would you believe +it?--a week ago, at Lady Hampshire's, I found myself seated at dinner +next the lady in question, and she insisted on going over the whole +thing again, and digging up the past, and raking up the future. I had +buried my romance in a bed of asphodel. She dragged it out again and +assured me that I had spoiled her life. I am bound to state that she +ate an enormous dinner, so I did not feel any anxiety. But what a lack +of taste she showed! The one charm of the past is that it is the past. +But women never know when the curtain has fallen. They always want a +sixth act, and as soon as the interest of the play is entirely over, +they propose to continue it. If they were allowed their own way, every +comedy would have a tragic ending, and every tragedy would culminate in +a farce. They are charmingly artificial, but they have no sense of +art. You are more fortunate than I am. I assure you, Dorian, that not +one of the women I have known would have done for me what Sibyl Vane +did for you. Ordinary women always console themselves. Some of them +do it by going in for sentimental colours. Never trust a woman who +wears mauve, whatever her age may be, or a woman over thirty-five who +is fond of pink ribbons. It always means that they have a history. +Others find a great consolation in suddenly discovering the good +qualities of their husbands. They flaunt their conjugal felicity in +one's face, as if it were the most fascinating of sins. Religion +consoles some. Its mysteries have all the charm of a flirtation, a +woman once told me, and I can quite understand it. Besides, nothing +makes one so vain as being told that one is a sinner. Conscience makes +egotists of us all. Yes; there is really no end to the consolations +that women find in modern life. Indeed, I have not mentioned the most +important one." + +"What is that, Harry?" said the lad listlessly. + +"Oh, the obvious consolation. Taking some one else's admirer when one +loses one's own. In good society that always whitewashes a woman. But +really, Dorian, how different Sibyl Vane must have been from all the +women one meets! There is something to me quite beautiful about her +death. I am glad I am living in a century when such wonders happen. +They make one believe in the reality of the things we all play with, +such as romance, passion, and love." + +"I was terribly cruel to her. You forget that." + +"I am afraid that women appreciate cruelty, downright cruelty, more +than anything else. They have wonderfully primitive instincts. We +have emancipated them, but they remain slaves looking for their +masters, all the same. They love being dominated. I am sure you were +splendid. I have never seen you really and absolutely angry, but I can +fancy how delightful you looked. And, after all, you said something to +me the day before yesterday that seemed to me at the time to be merely +fanciful, but that I see now was absolutely true, and it holds the key +to everything." + +"What was that, Harry?" + +"You said to me that Sibyl Vane represented to you all the heroines of +romance--that she was Desdemona one night, and Ophelia the other; that +if she died as Juliet, she came to life as Imogen." + +"She will never come to life again now," muttered the lad, burying his +face in his hands. + +"No, she will never come to life. She has played her last part. But +you must think of that lonely death in the tawdry dressing-room simply +as a strange lurid fragment from some Jacobean tragedy, as a wonderful +scene from Webster, or Ford, or Cyril Tourneur. The girl never really +lived, and so she has never really died. To you at least she was +always a dream, a phantom that flitted through Shakespeare's plays and +left them lovelier for its presence, a reed through which Shakespeare's +music sounded richer and more full of joy. The moment she touched +actual life, she marred it, and it marred her, and so she passed away. +Mourn for Ophelia, if you like. Put ashes on your head because +Cordelia was strangled. Cry out against Heaven because the daughter of +Brabantio died. But don't waste your tears over Sibyl Vane. She was +less real than they are." + +There was a silence. The evening darkened in the room. Noiselessly, +and with silver feet, the shadows crept in from the garden. The +colours faded wearily out of things. + +After some time Dorian Gray looked up. "You have explained me to +myself, Harry," he murmured with something of a sigh of relief. "I +felt all that you have said, but somehow I was afraid of it, and I +could not express it to myself. How well you know me! But we will not +talk again of what has happened. It has been a marvellous experience. +That is all. I wonder if life has still in store for me anything as +marvellous." + +"Life has everything in store for you, Dorian. There is nothing that +you, with your extraordinary good looks, will not be able to do." + +"But suppose, Harry, I became haggard, and old, and wrinkled? What +then?" + +"Ah, then," said Lord Henry, rising to go, "then, my dear Dorian, you +would have to fight for your victories. As it is, they are brought to +you. No, you must keep your good looks. We live in an age that reads +too much to be wise, and that thinks too much to be beautiful. We +cannot spare you. And now you had better dress and drive down to the +club. We are rather late, as it is." + +"I think I shall join you at the opera, Harry. I feel too tired to eat +anything. What is the number of your sister's box?" + +"Twenty-seven, I believe. It is on the grand tier. You will see her +name on the door. But I am sorry you won't come and dine." + +"I don't feel up to it," said Dorian listlessly. "But I am awfully +obliged to you for all that you have said to me. You are certainly my +best friend. No one has ever understood me as you have." + +"We are only at the beginning of our friendship, Dorian," answered Lord +Henry, shaking him by the hand. "Good-bye. I shall see you before +nine-thirty, I hope. Remember, Patti is singing." + +As he closed the door behind him, Dorian Gray touched the bell, and in +a few minutes Victor appeared with the lamps and drew the blinds down. +He waited impatiently for him to go. The man seemed to take an +interminable time over everything. + +As soon as he had left, he rushed to the screen and drew it back. No; +there was no further change in the picture. It had received the news +of Sibyl Vane's death before he had known of it himself. It was +conscious of the events of life as they occurred. The vicious cruelty +that marred the fine lines of the mouth had, no doubt, appeared at the +very moment that the girl had drunk the poison, whatever it was. Or +was it indifferent to results? Did it merely take cognizance of what +passed within the soul? He wondered, and hoped that some day he would +see the change taking place before his very eyes, shuddering as he +hoped it. + +Poor Sibyl! What a romance it had all been! She had often mimicked +death on the stage. Then Death himself had touched her and taken her +with him. How had she played that dreadful last scene? Had she cursed +him, as she died? No; she had died for love of him, and love would +always be a sacrament to him now. She had atoned for everything by the +sacrifice she had made of her life. He would not think any more of +what she had made him go through, on that horrible night at the +theatre. When he thought of her, it would be as a wonderful tragic +figure sent on to the world's stage to show the supreme reality of +love. A wonderful tragic figure? Tears came to his eyes as he +remembered her childlike look, and winsome fanciful ways, and shy +tremulous grace. He brushed them away hastily and looked again at the +picture. + +He felt that the time had really come for making his choice. Or had +his choice already been made? Yes, life had decided that for +him--life, and his own infinite curiosity about life. Eternal youth, +infinite passion, pleasures subtle and secret, wild joys and wilder +sins--he was to have all these things. The portrait was to bear the +burden of his shame: that was all. + +A feeling of pain crept over him as he thought of the desecration that +was in store for the fair face on the canvas. Once, in boyish mockery +of Narcissus, he had kissed, or feigned to kiss, those painted lips +that now smiled so cruelly at him. Morning after morning he had sat +before the portrait wondering at its beauty, almost enamoured of it, as +it seemed to him at times. Was it to alter now with every mood to +which he yielded? Was it to become a monstrous and loathsome thing, to +be hidden away in a locked room, to be shut out from the sunlight that +had so often touched to brighter gold the waving wonder of its hair? +The pity of it! the pity of it! + +For a moment, he thought of praying that the horrible sympathy that +existed between him and the picture might cease. It had changed in +answer to a prayer; perhaps in answer to a prayer it might remain +unchanged. And yet, who, that knew anything about life, would +surrender the chance of remaining always young, however fantastic that +chance might be, or with what fateful consequences it might be fraught? +Besides, was it really under his control? Had it indeed been prayer +that had produced the substitution? Might there not be some curious +scientific reason for it all? If thought could exercise its influence +upon a living organism, might not thought exercise an influence upon +dead and inorganic things? Nay, without thought or conscious desire, +might not things external to ourselves vibrate in unison with our moods +and passions, atom calling to atom in secret love or strange affinity? +But the reason was of no importance. He would never again tempt by a +prayer any terrible power. If the picture was to alter, it was to +alter. That was all. Why inquire too closely into it? + +For there would be a real pleasure in watching it. He would be able to +follow his mind into its secret places. This portrait would be to him +the most magical of mirrors. As it had revealed to him his own body, +so it would reveal to him his own soul. And when winter came upon it, +he would still be standing where spring trembles on the verge of +summer. When the blood crept from its face, and left behind a pallid +mask of chalk with leaden eyes, he would keep the glamour of boyhood. +Not one blossom of his loveliness would ever fade. Not one pulse of +his life would ever weaken. Like the gods of the Greeks, he would be +strong, and fleet, and joyous. What did it matter what happened to the +coloured image on the canvas? He would be safe. That was everything. + +He drew the screen back into its former place in front of the picture, +smiling as he did so, and passed into his bedroom, where his valet was +already waiting for him. An hour later he was at the opera, and Lord +Henry was leaning over his chair. + + + +CHAPTER 9 + +As he was sitting at breakfast next morning, Basil Hallward was shown +into the room. + +"I am so glad I have found you, Dorian," he said gravely. "I called +last night, and they told me you were at the opera. Of course, I knew +that was impossible. But I wish you had left word where you had really +gone to. I passed a dreadful evening, half afraid that one tragedy +might be followed by another. I think you might have telegraphed for +me when you heard of it first. I read of it quite by chance in a late +edition of _The Globe_ that I picked up at the club. I came here at once +and was miserable at not finding you. I can't tell you how +heart-broken I am about the whole thing. I know what you must suffer. +But where were you? Did you go down and see the girl's mother? For a +moment I thought of following you there. They gave the address in the +paper. Somewhere in the Euston Road, isn't it? But I was afraid of +intruding upon a sorrow that I could not lighten. Poor woman! What a +state she must be in! And her only child, too! What did she say about +it all?" + +"My dear Basil, how do I know?" murmured Dorian Gray, sipping some +pale-yellow wine from a delicate, gold-beaded bubble of Venetian glass +and looking dreadfully bored. "I was at the opera. You should have +come on there. I met Lady Gwendolen, Harry's sister, for the first +time. We were in her box. She is perfectly charming; and Patti sang +divinely. Don't talk about horrid subjects. If one doesn't talk about +a thing, it has never happened. It is simply expression, as Harry +says, that gives reality to things. I may mention that she was not the +woman's only child. There is a son, a charming fellow, I believe. But +he is not on the stage. He is a sailor, or something. And now, tell +me about yourself and what you are painting." + +"You went to the opera?" said Hallward, speaking very slowly and with a +strained touch of pain in his voice. "You went to the opera while +Sibyl Vane was lying dead in some sordid lodging? You can talk to me +of other women being charming, and of Patti singing divinely, before +the girl you loved has even the quiet of a grave to sleep in? Why, +man, there are horrors in store for that little white body of hers!" + +"Stop, Basil! I won't hear it!" cried Dorian, leaping to his feet. +"You must not tell me about things. What is done is done. What is +past is past." + +"You call yesterday the past?" + +"What has the actual lapse of time got to do with it? It is only +shallow people who require years to get rid of an emotion. A man who +is master of himself can end a sorrow as easily as he can invent a +pleasure. I don't want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to +use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them." + +"Dorian, this is horrible! Something has changed you completely. You +look exactly the same wonderful boy who, day after day, used to come +down to my studio to sit for his picture. But you were simple, +natural, and affectionate then. You were the most unspoiled creature +in the whole world. Now, I don't know what has come over you. You +talk as if you had no heart, no pity in you. It is all Harry's +influence. I see that." + +The lad flushed up and, going to the window, looked out for a few +moments on the green, flickering, sun-lashed garden. "I owe a great +deal to Harry, Basil," he said at last, "more than I owe to you. You +only taught me to be vain." + +"Well, I am punished for that, Dorian--or shall be some day." + +"I don't know what you mean, Basil," he exclaimed, turning round. "I +don't know what you want. What do you want?" + +"I want the Dorian Gray I used to paint," said the artist sadly. + +"Basil," said the lad, going over to him and putting his hand on his +shoulder, "you have come too late. Yesterday, when I heard that Sibyl +Vane had killed herself--" + +"Killed herself! Good heavens! is there no doubt about that?" cried +Hallward, looking up at him with an expression of horror. + +"My dear Basil! Surely you don't think it was a vulgar accident? Of +course she killed herself." + +The elder man buried his face in his hands. "How fearful," he +muttered, and a shudder ran through him. + +"No," said Dorian Gray, "there is nothing fearful about it. It is one +of the great romantic tragedies of the age. As a rule, people who act +lead the most commonplace lives. They are good husbands, or faithful +wives, or something tedious. You know what I mean--middle-class virtue +and all that kind of thing. How different Sibyl was! She lived her +finest tragedy. She was always a heroine. The last night she +played--the night you saw her--she acted badly because she had known +the reality of love. When she knew its unreality, she died, as Juliet +might have died. She passed again into the sphere of art. There is +something of the martyr about her. Her death has all the pathetic +uselessness of martyrdom, all its wasted beauty. But, as I was saying, +you must not think I have not suffered. If you had come in yesterday +at a particular moment--about half-past five, perhaps, or a quarter to +six--you would have found me in tears. Even Harry, who was here, who +brought me the news, in fact, had no idea what I was going through. I +suffered immensely. Then it passed away. I cannot repeat an emotion. +No one can, except sentimentalists. And you are awfully unjust, Basil. +You come down here to console me. That is charming of you. You find +me consoled, and you are furious. How like a sympathetic person! You +remind me of a story Harry told me about a certain philanthropist who +spent twenty years of his life in trying to get some grievance +redressed, or some unjust law altered--I forget exactly what it was. +Finally he succeeded, and nothing could exceed his disappointment. He +had absolutely nothing to do, almost died of _ennui_, and became a +confirmed misanthrope. And besides, my dear old Basil, if you really +want to console me, teach me rather to forget what has happened, or to +see it from a proper artistic point of view. Was it not Gautier who +used to write about _la consolation des arts_? I remember picking up a +little vellum-covered book in your studio one day and chancing on that +delightful phrase. Well, I am not like that young man you told me of +when we were down at Marlow together, the young man who used to say +that yellow satin could console one for all the miseries of life. I +love beautiful things that one can touch and handle. Old brocades, +green bronzes, lacquer-work, carved ivories, exquisite surroundings, +luxury, pomp--there is much to be got from all these. But the artistic +temperament that they create, or at any rate reveal, is still more to +me. To become the spectator of one's own life, as Harry says, is to +escape the suffering of life. I know you are surprised at my talking +to you like this. You have not realized how I have developed. I was a +schoolboy when you knew me. I am a man now. I have new passions, new +thoughts, new ideas. I am different, but you must not like me less. I +am changed, but you must always be my friend. Of course, I am very +fond of Harry. But I know that you are better than he is. You are not +stronger--you are too much afraid of life--but you are better. And how +happy we used to be together! Don't leave me, Basil, and don't quarrel +with me. I am what I am. There is nothing more to be said." + +The painter felt strangely moved. The lad was infinitely dear to him, +and his personality had been the great turning point in his art. He +could not bear the idea of reproaching him any more. After all, his +indifference was probably merely a mood that would pass away. There +was so much in him that was good, so much in him that was noble. + +"Well, Dorian," he said at length, with a sad smile, "I won't speak to +you again about this horrible thing, after to-day. I only trust your +name won't be mentioned in connection with it. The inquest is to take +place this afternoon. Have they summoned you?" + +Dorian shook his head, and a look of annoyance passed over his face at +the mention of the word "inquest." There was something so crude and +vulgar about everything of the kind. "They don't know my name," he +answered. + +"But surely she did?" + +"Only my Christian name, and that I am quite sure she never mentioned +to any one. She told me once that they were all rather curious to +learn who I was, and that she invariably told them my name was Prince +Charming. It was pretty of her. You must do me a drawing of Sibyl, +Basil. I should like to have something more of her than the memory of +a few kisses and some broken pathetic words." + +"I will try and do something, Dorian, if it would please you. But you +must come and sit to me yourself again. I can't get on without you." + +"I can never sit to you again, Basil. It is impossible!" he exclaimed, +starting back. + +The painter stared at him. "My dear boy, what nonsense!" he cried. +"Do you mean to say you don't like what I did of you? Where is it? +Why have you pulled the screen in front of it? Let me look at it. It +is the best thing I have ever done. Do take the screen away, Dorian. +It is simply disgraceful of your servant hiding my work like that. I +felt the room looked different as I came in." + +"My servant has nothing to do with it, Basil. You don't imagine I let +him arrange my room for me? He settles my flowers for me +sometimes--that is all. No; I did it myself. The light was too strong +on the portrait." + +"Too strong! Surely not, my dear fellow? It is an admirable place for +it. Let me see it." And Hallward walked towards the corner of the +room. + +A cry of terror broke from Dorian Gray's lips, and he rushed between +the painter and the screen. "Basil," he said, looking very pale, "you +must not look at it. I don't wish you to." + +"Not look at my own work! You are not serious. Why shouldn't I look +at it?" exclaimed Hallward, laughing. + +"If you try to look at it, Basil, on my word of honour I will never +speak to you again as long as I live. I am quite serious. I don't +offer any explanation, and you are not to ask for any. But, remember, +if you touch this screen, everything is over between us." + +Hallward was thunderstruck. He looked at Dorian Gray in absolute +amazement. He had never seen him like this before. The lad was +actually pallid with rage. His hands were clenched, and the pupils of +his eyes were like disks of blue fire. He was trembling all over. + +"Dorian!" + +"Don't speak!" + +"But what is the matter? Of course I won't look at it if you don't +want me to," he said, rather coldly, turning on his heel and going over +towards the window. "But, really, it seems rather absurd that I +shouldn't see my own work, especially as I am going to exhibit it in +Paris in the autumn. I shall probably have to give it another coat of +varnish before that, so I must see it some day, and why not to-day?" + +"To exhibit it! You want to exhibit it?" exclaimed Dorian Gray, a +strange sense of terror creeping over him. Was the world going to be +shown his secret? Were people to gape at the mystery of his life? +That was impossible. Something--he did not know what--had to be done +at once. + +"Yes; I don't suppose you will object to that. Georges Petit is going +to collect all my best pictures for a special exhibition in the Rue de +Seze, which will open the first week in October. The portrait will +only be away a month. I should think you could easily spare it for +that time. In fact, you are sure to be out of town. And if you keep +it always behind a screen, you can't care much about it." + +Dorian Gray passed his hand over his forehead. There were beads of +perspiration there. He felt that he was on the brink of a horrible +danger. "You told me a month ago that you would never exhibit it," he +cried. "Why have you changed your mind? You people who go in for +being consistent have just as many moods as others have. The only +difference is that your moods are rather meaningless. You can't have +forgotten that you assured me most solemnly that nothing in the world +would induce you to send it to any exhibition. You told Harry exactly +the same thing." He stopped suddenly, and a gleam of light came into +his eyes. He remembered that Lord Henry had said to him once, half +seriously and half in jest, "If you want to have a strange quarter of +an hour, get Basil to tell you why he won't exhibit your picture. He +told me why he wouldn't, and it was a revelation to me." Yes, perhaps +Basil, too, had his secret. He would ask him and try. + +"Basil," he said, coming over quite close and looking him straight in +the face, "we have each of us a secret. Let me know yours, and I shall +tell you mine. What was your reason for refusing to exhibit my +picture?" + +The painter shuddered in spite of himself. "Dorian, if I told you, you +might like me less than you do, and you would certainly laugh at me. I +could not bear your doing either of those two things. If you wish me +never to look at your picture again, I am content. I have always you +to look at. If you wish the best work I have ever done to be hidden +from the world, I am satisfied. Your friendship is dearer to me than +any fame or reputation." + +"No, Basil, you must tell me," insisted Dorian Gray. "I think I have a +right to know." His feeling of terror had passed away, and curiosity +had taken its place. He was determined to find out Basil Hallward's +mystery. + +"Let us sit down, Dorian," said the painter, looking troubled. "Let us +sit down. And just answer me one question. Have you noticed in the +picture something curious?--something that probably at first did not +strike you, but that revealed itself to you suddenly?" + +"Basil!" cried the lad, clutching the arms of his chair with trembling +hands and gazing at him with wild startled eyes. + +"I see you did. Don't speak. Wait till you hear what I have to say. +Dorian, from the moment I met you, your personality had the most +extraordinary influence over me. I was dominated, soul, brain, and +power, by you. You became to me the visible incarnation of that unseen +ideal whose memory haunts us artists like an exquisite dream. I +worshipped you. I grew jealous of every one to whom you spoke. I +wanted to have you all to myself. I was only happy when I was with +you. When you were away from me, you were still present in my art.... +Of course, I never let you know anything about this. It would have +been impossible. You would not have understood it. I hardly +understood it myself. I only knew that I had seen perfection face to +face, and that the world had become wonderful to my eyes--too +wonderful, perhaps, for in such mad worships there is peril, the peril +of losing them, no less than the peril of keeping them.... Weeks and +weeks went on, and I grew more and more absorbed in you. Then came a +new development. I had drawn you as Paris in dainty armour, and as +Adonis with huntsman's cloak and polished boar-spear. Crowned with +heavy lotus-blossoms you had sat on the prow of Adrian's barge, gazing +across the green turbid Nile. You had leaned over the still pool of +some Greek woodland and seen in the water's silent silver the marvel of +your own face. And it had all been what art should be--unconscious, +ideal, and remote. One day, a fatal day I sometimes think, I +determined to paint a wonderful portrait of you as you actually are, +not in the costume of dead ages, but in your own dress and in your own +time. Whether it was the realism of the method, or the mere wonder of +your own personality, thus directly presented to me without mist or +veil, I cannot tell. But I know that as I worked at it, every flake +and film of colour seemed to me to reveal my secret. I grew afraid +that others would know of my idolatry. I felt, Dorian, that I had told +too much, that I had put too much of myself into it. Then it was that +I resolved never to allow the picture to be exhibited. You were a +little annoyed; but then you did not realize all that it meant to me. +Harry, to whom I talked about it, laughed at me. But I did not mind +that. When the picture was finished, and I sat alone with it, I felt +that I was right.... Well, after a few days the thing left my studio, +and as soon as I had got rid of the intolerable fascination of its +presence, it seemed to me that I had been foolish in imagining that I +had seen anything in it, more than that you were extremely good-looking +and that I could paint. Even now I cannot help feeling that it is a +mistake to think that the passion one feels in creation is ever really +shown in the work one creates. Art is always more abstract than we +fancy. Form and colour tell us of form and colour--that is all. It +often seems to me that art conceals the artist far more completely than +it ever reveals him. And so when I got this offer from Paris, I +determined to make your portrait the principal thing in my exhibition. +It never occurred to me that you would refuse. I see now that you were +right. The picture cannot be shown. You must not be angry with me, +Dorian, for what I have told you. As I said to Harry, once, you are +made to be worshipped." + +Dorian Gray drew a long breath. The colour came back to his cheeks, +and a smile played about his lips. The peril was over. He was safe +for the time. Yet he could not help feeling infinite pity for the +painter who had just made this strange confession to him, and wondered +if he himself would ever be so dominated by the personality of a +friend. Lord Henry had the charm of being very dangerous. But that +was all. He was too clever and too cynical to be really fond of. +Would there ever be some one who would fill him with a strange +idolatry? Was that one of the things that life had in store? + +"It is extraordinary to me, Dorian," said Hallward, "that you should +have seen this in the portrait. Did you really see it?" + +"I saw something in it," he answered, "something that seemed to me very +curious." + +"Well, you don't mind my looking at the thing now?" + +Dorian shook his head. "You must not ask me that, Basil. I could not +possibly let you stand in front of that picture." + +"You will some day, surely?" + +"Never." + +"Well, perhaps you are right. And now good-bye, Dorian. You have been +the one person in my life who has really influenced my art. Whatever I +have done that is good, I owe to you. Ah! you don't know what it cost +me to tell you all that I have told you." + +"My dear Basil," said Dorian, "what have you told me? Simply that you +felt that you admired me too much. That is not even a compliment." + +"It was not intended as a compliment. It was a confession. Now that I +have made it, something seems to have gone out of me. Perhaps one +should never put one's worship into words." + +"It was a very disappointing confession." + +"Why, what did you expect, Dorian? You didn't see anything else in the +picture, did you? There was nothing else to see?" + +"No; there was nothing else to see. Why do you ask? But you mustn't +talk about worship. It is foolish. You and I are friends, Basil, and +we must always remain so." + +"You have got Harry," said the painter sadly. + +"Oh, Harry!" cried the lad, with a ripple of laughter. "Harry spends +his days in saying what is incredible and his evenings in doing what is +improbable. Just the sort of life I would like to lead. But still I +don't think I would go to Harry if I were in trouble. I would sooner +go to you, Basil." + +"You will sit to me again?" + +"Impossible!" + +"You spoil my life as an artist by refusing, Dorian. No man comes +across two ideal things. Few come across one." + +"I can't explain it to you, Basil, but I must never sit to you again. +There is something fatal about a portrait. It has a life of its own. +I will come and have tea with you. That will be just as pleasant." + +"Pleasanter for you, I am afraid," murmured Hallward regretfully. "And +now good-bye. I am sorry you won't let me look at the picture once +again. But that can't be helped. I quite understand what you feel +about it." + +As he left the room, Dorian Gray smiled to himself. Poor Basil! How +little he knew of the true reason! And how strange it was that, +instead of having been forced to reveal his own secret, he had +succeeded, almost by chance, in wresting a secret from his friend! How +much that strange confession explained to him! The painter's absurd +fits of jealousy, his wild devotion, his extravagant panegyrics, his +curious reticences--he understood them all now, and he felt sorry. +There seemed to him to be something tragic in a friendship so coloured +by romance. + +He sighed and touched the bell. The portrait must be hidden away at +all costs. He could not run such a risk of discovery again. It had +been mad of him to have allowed the thing to remain, even for an hour, +in a room to which any of his friends had access. + + + +CHAPTER 10 + +When his servant entered, he looked at him steadfastly and wondered if +he had thought of peering behind the screen. The man was quite +impassive and waited for his orders. Dorian lit a cigarette and walked +over to the glass and glanced into it. He could see the reflection of +Victor's face perfectly. It was like a placid mask of servility. +There was nothing to be afraid of, there. Yet he thought it best to be +on his guard. + +Speaking very slowly, he told him to tell the house-keeper that he +wanted to see her, and then to go to the frame-maker and ask him to +send two of his men round at once. It seemed to him that as the man +left the room his eyes wandered in the direction of the screen. Or was +that merely his own fancy? + +After a few moments, in her black silk dress, with old-fashioned thread +mittens on her wrinkled hands, Mrs. Leaf bustled into the library. He +asked her for the key of the schoolroom. + +"The old schoolroom, Mr. Dorian?" she exclaimed. "Why, it is full of +dust. I must get it arranged and put straight before you go into it. +It is not fit for you to see, sir. It is not, indeed." + +"I don't want it put straight, Leaf. I only want the key." + +"Well, sir, you'll be covered with cobwebs if you go into it. Why, it +hasn't been opened for nearly five years--not since his lordship died." + +He winced at the mention of his grandfather. He had hateful memories +of him. "That does not matter," he answered. "I simply want to see +the place--that is all. Give me the key." + +"And here is the key, sir," said the old lady, going over the contents +of her bunch with tremulously uncertain hands. "Here is the key. I'll +have it off the bunch in a moment. But you don't think of living up +there, sir, and you so comfortable here?" + +"No, no," he cried petulantly. "Thank you, Leaf. That will do." + +She lingered for a few moments, and was garrulous over some detail of +the household. He sighed and told her to manage things as she thought +best. She left the room, wreathed in smiles. + +As the door closed, Dorian put the key in his pocket and looked round +the room. His eye fell on a large, purple satin coverlet heavily +embroidered with gold, a splendid piece of late seventeenth-century +Venetian work that his grandfather had found in a convent near Bologna. +Yes, that would serve to wrap the dreadful thing in. It had perhaps +served often as a pall for the dead. Now it was to hide something that +had a corruption of its own, worse than the corruption of death +itself--something that would breed horrors and yet would never die. +What the worm was to the corpse, his sins would be to the painted image +on the canvas. They would mar its beauty and eat away its grace. They +would defile it and make it shameful. And yet the thing would still +live on. It would be always alive. + +He shuddered, and for a moment he regretted that he had not told Basil +the true reason why he had wished to hide the picture away. Basil +would have helped him to resist Lord Henry's influence, and the still +more poisonous influences that came from his own temperament. The love +that he bore him--for it was really love--had nothing in it that was +not noble and intellectual. It was not that mere physical admiration +of beauty that is born of the senses and that dies when the senses +tire. It was such love as Michelangelo had known, and Montaigne, and +Winckelmann, and Shakespeare himself. Yes, Basil could have saved him. +But it was too late now. The past could always be annihilated. +Regret, denial, or forgetfulness could do that. But the future was +inevitable. There were passions in him that would find their terrible +outlet, dreams that would make the shadow of their evil real. + +He took up from the couch the great purple-and-gold texture that +covered it, and, holding it in his hands, passed behind the screen. +Was the face on the canvas viler than before? It seemed to him that it +was unchanged, and yet his loathing of it was intensified. Gold hair, +blue eyes, and rose-red lips--they all were there. It was simply the +expression that had altered. That was horrible in its cruelty. +Compared to what he saw in it of censure or rebuke, how shallow Basil's +reproaches about Sibyl Vane had been!--how shallow, and of what little +account! His own soul was looking out at him from the canvas and +calling him to judgement. A look of pain came across him, and he flung +the rich pall over the picture. As he did so, a knock came to the +door. He passed out as his servant entered. + +"The persons are here, Monsieur." + +He felt that the man must be got rid of at once. He must not be +allowed to know where the picture was being taken to. There was +something sly about him, and he had thoughtful, treacherous eyes. +Sitting down at the writing-table he scribbled a note to Lord Henry, +asking him to send him round something to read and reminding him that +they were to meet at eight-fifteen that evening. + +"Wait for an answer," he said, handing it to him, "and show the men in +here." + +In two or three minutes there was another knock, and Mr. Hubbard +himself, the celebrated frame-maker of South Audley Street, came in +with a somewhat rough-looking young assistant. Mr. Hubbard was a +florid, red-whiskered little man, whose admiration for art was +considerably tempered by the inveterate impecuniosity of most of the +artists who dealt with him. As a rule, he never left his shop. He +waited for people to come to him. But he always made an exception in +favour of Dorian Gray. There was something about Dorian that charmed +everybody. It was a pleasure even to see him. + +"What can I do for you, Mr. Gray?" he said, rubbing his fat freckled +hands. "I thought I would do myself the honour of coming round in +person. I have just got a beauty of a frame, sir. Picked it up at a +sale. Old Florentine. Came from Fonthill, I believe. Admirably +suited for a religious subject, Mr. Gray." + +"I am so sorry you have given yourself the trouble of coming round, Mr. +Hubbard. I shall certainly drop in and look at the frame--though I +don't go in much at present for religious art--but to-day I only want a +picture carried to the top of the house for me. It is rather heavy, so +I thought I would ask you to lend me a couple of your men." + +"No trouble at all, Mr. Gray. I am delighted to be of any service to +you. Which is the work of art, sir?" + +"This," replied Dorian, moving the screen back. "Can you move it, +covering and all, just as it is? I don't want it to get scratched +going upstairs." + +"There will be no difficulty, sir," said the genial frame-maker, +beginning, with the aid of his assistant, to unhook the picture from +the long brass chains by which it was suspended. "And, now, where +shall we carry it to, Mr. Gray?" + +"I will show you the way, Mr. Hubbard, if you will kindly follow me. +Or perhaps you had better go in front. I am afraid it is right at the +top of the house. We will go up by the front staircase, as it is +wider." + +He held the door open for them, and they passed out into the hall and +began the ascent. The elaborate character of the frame had made the +picture extremely bulky, and now and then, in spite of the obsequious +protests of Mr. Hubbard, who had the true tradesman's spirited dislike +of seeing a gentleman doing anything useful, Dorian put his hand to it +so as to help them. + +"Something of a load to carry, sir," gasped the little man when they +reached the top landing. And he wiped his shiny forehead. + +"I am afraid it is rather heavy," murmured Dorian as he unlocked the +door that opened into the room that was to keep for him the curious +secret of his life and hide his soul from the eyes of men. + +He had not entered the place for more than four years--not, indeed, +since he had used it first as a play-room when he was a child, and then +as a study when he grew somewhat older. It was a large, +well-proportioned room, which had been specially built by the last Lord +Kelso for the use of the little grandson whom, for his strange likeness +to his mother, and also for other reasons, he had always hated and +desired to keep at a distance. It appeared to Dorian to have but +little changed. There was the huge Italian _cassone_, with its +fantastically painted panels and its tarnished gilt mouldings, in which +he had so often hidden himself as a boy. There the satinwood book-case +filled with his dog-eared schoolbooks. On the wall behind it was +hanging the same ragged Flemish tapestry where a faded king and queen +were playing chess in a garden, while a company of hawkers rode by, +carrying hooded birds on their gauntleted wrists. How well he +remembered it all! Every moment of his lonely childhood came back to +him as he looked round. He recalled the stainless purity of his boyish +life, and it seemed horrible to him that it was here the fatal portrait +was to be hidden away. How little he had thought, in those dead days, +of all that was in store for him! + +But there was no other place in the house so secure from prying eyes as +this. He had the key, and no one else could enter it. Beneath its +purple pall, the face painted on the canvas could grow bestial, sodden, +and unclean. What did it matter? No one could see it. He himself +would not see it. Why should he watch the hideous corruption of his +soul? He kept his youth--that was enough. And, besides, might not +his nature grow finer, after all? There was no reason that the future +should be so full of shame. Some love might come across his life, and +purify him, and shield him from those sins that seemed to be already +stirring in spirit and in flesh--those curious unpictured sins whose +very mystery lent them their subtlety and their charm. Perhaps, some +day, the cruel look would have passed away from the scarlet sensitive +mouth, and he might show to the world Basil Hallward's masterpiece. + +No; that was impossible. Hour by hour, and week by week, the thing +upon the canvas was growing old. It might escape the hideousness of +sin, but the hideousness of age was in store for it. The cheeks would +become hollow or flaccid. Yellow crow's feet would creep round the +fading eyes and make them horrible. The hair would lose its +brightness, the mouth would gape or droop, would be foolish or gross, +as the mouths of old men are. There would be the wrinkled throat, the +cold, blue-veined hands, the twisted body, that he remembered in the +grandfather who had been so stern to him in his boyhood. The picture +had to be concealed. There was no help for it. + +"Bring it in, Mr. Hubbard, please," he said, wearily, turning round. +"I am sorry I kept you so long. I was thinking of something else." + +"Always glad to have a rest, Mr. Gray," answered the frame-maker, who +was still gasping for breath. "Where shall we put it, sir?" + +"Oh, anywhere. Here: this will do. I don't want to have it hung up. +Just lean it against the wall. Thanks." + +"Might one look at the work of art, sir?" + +Dorian started. "It would not interest you, Mr. Hubbard," he said, +keeping his eye on the man. He felt ready to leap upon him and fling +him to the ground if he dared to lift the gorgeous hanging that +concealed the secret of his life. "I shan't trouble you any more now. +I am much obliged for your kindness in coming round." + +"Not at all, not at all, Mr. Gray. Ever ready to do anything for you, +sir." And Mr. Hubbard tramped downstairs, followed by the assistant, +who glanced back at Dorian with a look of shy wonder in his rough +uncomely face. He had never seen any one so marvellous. + +When the sound of their footsteps had died away, Dorian locked the door +and put the key in his pocket. He felt safe now. No one would ever +look upon the horrible thing. No eye but his would ever see his shame. + +On reaching the library, he found that it was just after five o'clock +and that the tea had been already brought up. On a little table of +dark perfumed wood thickly incrusted with nacre, a present from Lady +Radley, his guardian's wife, a pretty professional invalid who had +spent the preceding winter in Cairo, was lying a note from Lord Henry, +and beside it was a book bound in yellow paper, the cover slightly torn +and the edges soiled. A copy of the third edition of _The St. James's +Gazette_ had been placed on the tea-tray. It was evident that Victor had +returned. He wondered if he had met the men in the hall as they were +leaving the house and had wormed out of them what they had been doing. +He would be sure to miss the picture--had no doubt missed it already, +while he had been laying the tea-things. The screen had not been set +back, and a blank space was visible on the wall. Perhaps some night he +might find him creeping upstairs and trying to force the door of the +room. It was a horrible thing to have a spy in one's house. He had +heard of rich men who had been blackmailed all their lives by some +servant who had read a letter, or overheard a conversation, or picked +up a card with an address, or found beneath a pillow a withered flower +or a shred of crumpled lace. + +He sighed, and having poured himself out some tea, opened Lord Henry's +note. It was simply to say that he sent him round the evening paper, +and a book that might interest him, and that he would be at the club at +eight-fifteen. He opened _The St. James's_ languidly, and looked through +it. A red pencil-mark on the fifth page caught his eye. It drew +attention to the following paragraph: + + +INQUEST ON AN ACTRESS.--An inquest was held this morning at the Bell +Tavern, Hoxton Road, by Mr. Danby, the District Coroner, on the body of +Sibyl Vane, a young actress recently engaged at the Royal Theatre, +Holborn. A verdict of death by misadventure was returned. +Considerable sympathy was expressed for the mother of the deceased, who +was greatly affected during the giving of her own evidence, and that of +Dr. Birrell, who had made the post-mortem examination of the deceased. + + +He frowned, and tearing the paper in two, went across the room and +flung the pieces away. How ugly it all was! And how horribly real +ugliness made things! He felt a little annoyed with Lord Henry for +having sent him the report. And it was certainly stupid of him to have +marked it with red pencil. Victor might have read it. The man knew +more than enough English for that. + +Perhaps he had read it and had begun to suspect something. And, yet, +what did it matter? What had Dorian Gray to do with Sibyl Vane's +death? There was nothing to fear. Dorian Gray had not killed her. + +His eye fell on the yellow book that Lord Henry had sent him. What was +it, he wondered. He went towards the little, pearl-coloured octagonal +stand that had always looked to him like the work of some strange +Egyptian bees that wrought in silver, and taking up the volume, flung +himself into an arm-chair and began to turn over the leaves. After a +few minutes he became absorbed. It was the strangest book that he had +ever read. It seemed to him that in exquisite raiment, and to the +delicate sound of flutes, the sins of the world were passing in dumb +show before him. Things that he had dimly dreamed of were suddenly +made real to him. Things of which he had never dreamed were gradually +revealed. + +It was a novel without a plot and with only one character, being, +indeed, simply a psychological study of a certain young Parisian who +spent his life trying to realize in the nineteenth century all the +passions and modes of thought that belonged to every century except his +own, and to sum up, as it were, in himself the various moods through +which the world-spirit had ever passed, loving for their mere +artificiality those renunciations that men have unwisely called virtue, +as much as those natural rebellions that wise men still call sin. The +style in which it was written was that curious jewelled style, vivid +and obscure at once, full of _argot_ and of archaisms, of technical +expressions and of elaborate paraphrases, that characterizes the work +of some of the finest artists of the French school of _Symbolistes_. +There were in it metaphors as monstrous as orchids and as subtle in +colour. The life of the senses was described in the terms of mystical +philosophy. One hardly knew at times whether one was reading the +spiritual ecstasies of some mediaeval saint or the morbid confessions +of a modern sinner. It was a poisonous book. The heavy odour of +incense seemed to cling about its pages and to trouble the brain. The +mere cadence of the sentences, the subtle monotony of their music, so +full as it was of complex refrains and movements elaborately repeated, +produced in the mind of the lad, as he passed from chapter to chapter, +a form of reverie, a malady of dreaming, that made him unconscious of +the falling day and creeping shadows. + +Cloudless, and pierced by one solitary star, a copper-green sky gleamed +through the windows. He read on by its wan light till he could read no +more. Then, after his valet had reminded him several times of the +lateness of the hour, he got up, and going into the next room, placed +the book on the little Florentine table that always stood at his +bedside and began to dress for dinner. + +It was almost nine o'clock before he reached the club, where he found +Lord Henry sitting alone, in the morning-room, looking very much bored. + +"I am so sorry, Harry," he cried, "but really it is entirely your +fault. That book you sent me so fascinated me that I forgot how the +time was going." + +"Yes, I thought you would like it," replied his host, rising from his +chair. + +"I didn't say I liked it, Harry. I said it fascinated me. There is a +great difference." + +"Ah, you have discovered that?" murmured Lord Henry. And they passed +into the dining-room. + + + +CHAPTER 11 + +For years, Dorian Gray could not free himself from the influence of +this book. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he never +sought to free himself from it. He procured from Paris no less than +nine large-paper copies of the first edition, and had them bound in +different colours, so that they might suit his various moods and the +changing fancies of a nature over which he seemed, at times, to have +almost entirely lost control. The hero, the wonderful young Parisian +in whom the romantic and the scientific temperaments were so strangely +blended, became to him a kind of prefiguring type of himself. And, +indeed, the whole book seemed to him to contain the story of his own +life, written before he had lived it. + +In one point he was more fortunate than the novel's fantastic hero. He +never knew--never, indeed, had any cause to know--that somewhat +grotesque dread of mirrors, and polished metal surfaces, and still +water which came upon the young Parisian so early in his life, and was +occasioned by the sudden decay of a beau that had once, apparently, +been so remarkable. It was with an almost cruel joy--and perhaps in +nearly every joy, as certainly in every pleasure, cruelty has its +place--that he used to read the latter part of the book, with its +really tragic, if somewhat overemphasized, account of the sorrow and +despair of one who had himself lost what in others, and the world, he +had most dearly valued. + +For the wonderful beauty that had so fascinated Basil Hallward, and +many others besides him, seemed never to leave him. Even those who had +heard the most evil things against him--and from time to time strange +rumours about his mode of life crept through London and became the +chatter of the clubs--could not believe anything to his dishonour when +they saw him. He had always the look of one who had kept himself +unspotted from the world. Men who talked grossly became silent when +Dorian Gray entered the room. There was something in the purity of his +face that rebuked them. His mere presence seemed to recall to them the +memory of the innocence that they had tarnished. They wondered how one +so charming and graceful as he was could have escaped the stain of an +age that was at once sordid and sensual. + +Often, on returning home from one of those mysterious and prolonged +absences that gave rise to such strange conjecture among those who were +his friends, or thought that they were so, he himself would creep +upstairs to the locked room, open the door with the key that never left +him now, and stand, with a mirror, in front of the portrait that Basil +Hallward had painted of him, looking now at the evil and aging face on +the canvas, and now at the fair young face that laughed back at him +from the polished glass. The very sharpness of the contrast used to +quicken his sense of pleasure. He grew more and more enamoured of his +own beauty, more and more interested in the corruption of his own soul. +He would examine with minute care, and sometimes with a monstrous and +terrible delight, the hideous lines that seared the wrinkling forehead +or crawled around the heavy sensual mouth, wondering sometimes which +were the more horrible, the signs of sin or the signs of age. He would +place his white hands beside the coarse bloated hands of the picture, +and smile. He mocked the misshapen body and the failing limbs. + +There were moments, indeed, at night, when, lying sleepless in his own +delicately scented chamber, or in the sordid room of the little +ill-famed tavern near the docks which, under an assumed name and in +disguise, it was his habit to frequent, he would think of the ruin he +had brought upon his soul with a pity that was all the more poignant +because it was purely selfish. But moments such as these were rare. +That curiosity about life which Lord Henry had first stirred in him, as +they sat together in the garden of their friend, seemed to increase +with gratification. The more he knew, the more he desired to know. He +had mad hungers that grew more ravenous as he fed them. + +Yet he was not really reckless, at any rate in his relations to +society. Once or twice every month during the winter, and on each +Wednesday evening while the season lasted, he would throw open to the +world his beautiful house and have the most celebrated musicians of the +day to charm his guests with the wonders of their art. His little +dinners, in the settling of which Lord Henry always assisted him, were +noted as much for the careful selection and placing of those invited, +as for the exquisite taste shown in the decoration of the table, with +its subtle symphonic arrangements of exotic flowers, and embroidered +cloths, and antique plate of gold and silver. Indeed, there were many, +especially among the very young men, who saw, or fancied that they saw, +in Dorian Gray the true realization of a type of which they had often +dreamed in Eton or Oxford days, a type that was to combine something of +the real culture of the scholar with all the grace and distinction and +perfect manner of a citizen of the world. To them he seemed to be of +the company of those whom Dante describes as having sought to "make +themselves perfect by the worship of beauty." Like Gautier, he was one +for whom "the visible world existed." + +And, certainly, to him life itself was the first, the greatest, of the +arts, and for it all the other arts seemed to be but a preparation. +Fashion, by which what is really fantastic becomes for a moment +universal, and dandyism, which, in its own way, is an attempt to assert +the absolute modernity of beauty, had, of course, their fascination for +him. His mode of dressing, and the particular styles that from time to +time he affected, had their marked influence on the young exquisites of +the Mayfair balls and Pall Mall club windows, who copied him in +everything that he did, and tried to reproduce the accidental charm of +his graceful, though to him only half-serious, fopperies. + +For, while he was but too ready to accept the position that was almost +immediately offered to him on his coming of age, and found, indeed, a +subtle pleasure in the thought that he might really become to the +London of his own day what to imperial Neronian Rome the author of the +Satyricon once had been, yet in his inmost heart he desired to be +something more than a mere _arbiter elegantiarum_, to be consulted on the +wearing of a jewel, or the knotting of a necktie, or the conduct of a +cane. He sought to elaborate some new scheme of life that would have +its reasoned philosophy and its ordered principles, and find in the +spiritualizing of the senses its highest realization. + +The worship of the senses has often, and with much justice, been +decried, men feeling a natural instinct of terror about passions and +sensations that seem stronger than themselves, and that they are +conscious of sharing with the less highly organized forms of existence. +But it appeared to Dorian Gray that the true nature of the senses had +never been understood, and that they had remained savage and animal +merely because the world had sought to starve them into submission or +to kill them by pain, instead of aiming at making them elements of a +new spirituality, of which a fine instinct for beauty was to be the +dominant characteristic. As he looked back upon man moving through +history, he was haunted by a feeling of loss. So much had been +surrendered! and to such little purpose! There had been mad wilful +rejections, monstrous forms of self-torture and self-denial, whose +origin was fear and whose result was a degradation infinitely more +terrible than that fancied degradation from which, in their ignorance, +they had sought to escape; Nature, in her wonderful irony, driving out +the anchorite to feed with the wild animals of the desert and giving to +the hermit the beasts of the field as his companions. + +Yes: there was to be, as Lord Henry had prophesied, a new Hedonism +that was to recreate life and to save it from that harsh uncomely +puritanism that is having, in our own day, its curious revival. It was +to have its service of the intellect, certainly, yet it was never to +accept any theory or system that would involve the sacrifice of any +mode of passionate experience. Its aim, indeed, was to be experience +itself, and not the fruits of experience, sweet or bitter as they might +be. Of the asceticism that deadens the senses, as of the vulgar +profligacy that dulls them, it was to know nothing. But it was to +teach man to concentrate himself upon the moments of a life that is +itself but a moment. + +There are few of us who have not sometimes wakened before dawn, either +after one of those dreamless nights that make us almost enamoured of +death, or one of those nights of horror and misshapen joy, when through +the chambers of the brain sweep phantoms more terrible than reality +itself, and instinct with that vivid life that lurks in all grotesques, +and that lends to Gothic art its enduring vitality, this art being, one +might fancy, especially the art of those whose minds have been troubled +with the malady of reverie. Gradually white fingers creep through the +curtains, and they appear to tremble. In black fantastic shapes, dumb +shadows crawl into the corners of the room and crouch there. Outside, +there is the stirring of birds among the leaves, or the sound of men +going forth to their work, or the sigh and sob of the wind coming down +from the hills and wandering round the silent house, as though it +feared to wake the sleepers and yet must needs call forth sleep from +her purple cave. Veil after veil of thin dusky gauze is lifted, and by +degrees the forms and colours of things are restored to them, and we +watch the dawn remaking the world in its antique pattern. The wan +mirrors get back their mimic life. The flameless tapers stand where we +had left them, and beside them lies the half-cut book that we had been +studying, or the wired flower that we had worn at the ball, or the +letter that we had been afraid to read, or that we had read too often. +Nothing seems to us changed. Out of the unreal shadows of the night +comes back the real life that we had known. We have to resume it where +we had left off, and there steals over us a terrible sense of the +necessity for the continuance of energy in the same wearisome round of +stereotyped habits, or a wild longing, it may be, that our eyelids +might open some morning upon a world that had been refashioned anew in +the darkness for our pleasure, a world in which things would have fresh +shapes and colours, and be changed, or have other secrets, a world in +which the past would have little or no place, or survive, at any rate, +in no conscious form of obligation or regret, the remembrance even of +joy having its bitterness and the memories of pleasure their pain. + +It was the creation of such worlds as these that seemed to Dorian Gray +to be the true object, or amongst the true objects, of life; and in his +search for sensations that would be at once new and delightful, and +possess that element of strangeness that is so essential to romance, he +would often adopt certain modes of thought that he knew to be really +alien to his nature, abandon himself to their subtle influences, and +then, having, as it were, caught their colour and satisfied his +intellectual curiosity, leave them with that curious indifference that +is not incompatible with a real ardour of temperament, and that, +indeed, according to certain modern psychologists, is often a condition +of it. + +It was rumoured of him once that he was about to join the Roman +Catholic communion, and certainly the Roman ritual had always a great +attraction for him. The daily sacrifice, more awful really than all +the sacrifices of the antique world, stirred him as much by its superb +rejection of the evidence of the senses as by the primitive simplicity +of its elements and the eternal pathos of the human tragedy that it +sought to symbolize. He loved to kneel down on the cold marble +pavement and watch the priest, in his stiff flowered dalmatic, slowly +and with white hands moving aside the veil of the tabernacle, or +raising aloft the jewelled, lantern-shaped monstrance with that pallid +wafer that at times, one would fain think, is indeed the "_panis +caelestis_," the bread of angels, or, robed in the garments of the +Passion of Christ, breaking the Host into the chalice and smiting his +breast for his sins. The fuming censers that the grave boys, in their +lace and scarlet, tossed into the air like great gilt flowers had their +subtle fascination for him. As he passed out, he used to look with +wonder at the black confessionals and long to sit in the dim shadow of +one of them and listen to men and women whispering through the worn +grating the true story of their lives. + +But he never fell into the error of arresting his intellectual +development by any formal acceptance of creed or system, or of +mistaking, for a house in which to live, an inn that is but suitable +for the sojourn of a night, or for a few hours of a night in which +there are no stars and the moon is in travail. Mysticism, with its +marvellous power of making common things strange to us, and the subtle +antinomianism that always seems to accompany it, moved him for a +season; and for a season he inclined to the materialistic doctrines of +the _Darwinismus_ movement in Germany, and found a curious pleasure in +tracing the thoughts and passions of men to some pearly cell in the +brain, or some white nerve in the body, delighting in the conception of +the absolute dependence of the spirit on certain physical conditions, +morbid or healthy, normal or diseased. Yet, as has been said of him +before, no theory of life seemed to him to be of any importance +compared with life itself. He felt keenly conscious of how barren all +intellectual speculation is when separated from action and experiment. +He knew that the senses, no less than the soul, have their spiritual +mysteries to reveal. + +And so he would now study perfumes and the secrets of their +manufacture, distilling heavily scented oils and burning odorous gums +from the East. He saw that there was no mood of the mind that had not +its counterpart in the sensuous life, and set himself to discover their +true relations, wondering what there was in frankincense that made one +mystical, and in ambergris that stirred one's passions, and in violets +that woke the memory of dead romances, and in musk that troubled the +brain, and in champak that stained the imagination; and seeking often +to elaborate a real psychology of perfumes, and to estimate the several +influences of sweet-smelling roots and scented, pollen-laden flowers; +of aromatic balms and of dark and fragrant woods; of spikenard, that +sickens; of hovenia, that makes men mad; and of aloes, that are said to +be able to expel melancholy from the soul. + +At another time he devoted himself entirely to music, and in a long +latticed room, with a vermilion-and-gold ceiling and walls of +olive-green lacquer, he used to give curious concerts in which mad +gipsies tore wild music from little zithers, or grave, yellow-shawled +Tunisians plucked at the strained strings of monstrous lutes, while +grinning Negroes beat monotonously upon copper drums and, crouching +upon scarlet mats, slim turbaned Indians blew through long pipes of +reed or brass and charmed--or feigned to charm--great hooded snakes and +horrible horned adders. The harsh intervals and shrill discords of +barbaric music stirred him at times when Schubert's grace, and Chopin's +beautiful sorrows, and the mighty harmonies of Beethoven himself, fell +unheeded on his ear. He collected together from all parts of the world +the strangest instruments that could be found, either in the tombs of +dead nations or among the few savage tribes that have survived contact +with Western civilizations, and loved to touch and try them. He had +the mysterious _juruparis_ of the Rio Negro Indians, that women are not +allowed to look at and that even youths may not see till they have been +subjected to fasting and scourging, and the earthen jars of the +Peruvians that have the shrill cries of birds, and flutes of human +bones such as Alfonso de Ovalle heard in Chile, and the sonorous green +jaspers that are found near Cuzco and give forth a note of singular +sweetness. He had painted gourds filled with pebbles that rattled when +they were shaken; the long _clarin_ of the Mexicans, into which the +performer does not blow, but through which he inhales the air; the +harsh _ture_ of the Amazon tribes, that is sounded by the sentinels who +sit all day long in high trees, and can be heard, it is said, at a +distance of three leagues; the _teponaztli_, that has two vibrating +tongues of wood and is beaten with sticks that are smeared with an +elastic gum obtained from the milky juice of plants; the _yotl_-bells of +the Aztecs, that are hung in clusters like grapes; and a huge +cylindrical drum, covered with the skins of great serpents, like the +one that Bernal Diaz saw when he went with Cortes into the Mexican +temple, and of whose doleful sound he has left us so vivid a +description. The fantastic character of these instruments fascinated +him, and he felt a curious delight in the thought that art, like +Nature, has her monsters, things of bestial shape and with hideous +voices. Yet, after some time, he wearied of them, and would sit in his +box at the opera, either alone or with Lord Henry, listening in rapt +pleasure to "Tannhauser" and seeing in the prelude to that great work +of art a presentation of the tragedy of his own soul. + +On one occasion he took up the study of jewels, and appeared at a +costume ball as Anne de Joyeuse, Admiral of France, in a dress covered +with five hundred and sixty pearls. This taste enthralled him for +years, and, indeed, may be said never to have left him. He would often +spend a whole day settling and resettling in their cases the various +stones that he had collected, such as the olive-green chrysoberyl that +turns red by lamplight, the cymophane with its wirelike line of silver, +the pistachio-coloured peridot, rose-pink and wine-yellow topazes, +carbuncles of fiery scarlet with tremulous, four-rayed stars, flame-red +cinnamon-stones, orange and violet spinels, and amethysts with their +alternate layers of ruby and sapphire. He loved the red gold of the +sunstone, and the moonstone's pearly whiteness, and the broken rainbow +of the milky opal. He procured from Amsterdam three emeralds of +extraordinary size and richness of colour, and had a turquoise _de la +vieille roche_ that was the envy of all the connoisseurs. + +He discovered wonderful stories, also, about jewels. In Alphonso's +Clericalis Disciplina a serpent was mentioned with eyes of real +jacinth, and in the romantic history of Alexander, the Conqueror of +Emathia was said to have found in the vale of Jordan snakes "with +collars of real emeralds growing on their backs." There was a gem in +the brain of the dragon, Philostratus told us, and "by the exhibition +of golden letters and a scarlet robe" the monster could be thrown into +a magical sleep and slain. According to the great alchemist, Pierre de +Boniface, the diamond rendered a man invisible, and the agate of India +made him eloquent. The cornelian appeased anger, and the hyacinth +provoked sleep, and the amethyst drove away the fumes of wine. The +garnet cast out demons, and the hydropicus deprived the moon of her +colour. The selenite waxed and waned with the moon, and the meloceus, +that discovers thieves, could be affected only by the blood of kids. +Leonardus Camillus had seen a white stone taken from the brain of a +newly killed toad, that was a certain antidote against poison. The +bezoar, that was found in the heart of the Arabian deer, was a charm +that could cure the plague. In the nests of Arabian birds was the +aspilates, that, according to Democritus, kept the wearer from any +danger by fire. + +The King of Ceilan rode through his city with a large ruby in his hand, +as the ceremony of his coronation. The gates of the palace of John the +Priest were "made of sardius, with the horn of the horned snake +inwrought, so that no man might bring poison within." Over the gable +were "two golden apples, in which were two carbuncles," so that the +gold might shine by day and the carbuncles by night. In Lodge's +strange romance 'A Margarite of America', it was stated that in the +chamber of the queen one could behold "all the chaste ladies of the +world, inchased out of silver, looking through fair mirrours of +chrysolites, carbuncles, sapphires, and greene emeraults." Marco Polo +had seen the inhabitants of Zipangu place rose-coloured pearls in the +mouths of the dead. A sea-monster had been enamoured of the pearl that +the diver brought to King Perozes, and had slain the thief, and mourned +for seven moons over its loss. When the Huns lured the king into the +great pit, he flung it away--Procopius tells the story--nor was it ever +found again, though the Emperor Anastasius offered five hundred-weight +of gold pieces for it. The King of Malabar had shown to a certain +Venetian a rosary of three hundred and four pearls, one for every god +that he worshipped. + +When the Duke de Valentinois, son of Alexander VI, visited Louis XII of +France, his horse was loaded with gold leaves, according to Brantome, +and his cap had double rows of rubies that threw out a great light. +Charles of England had ridden in stirrups hung with four hundred and +twenty-one diamonds. Richard II had a coat, valued at thirty thousand +marks, which was covered with balas rubies. Hall described Henry VIII, +on his way to the Tower previous to his coronation, as wearing "a +jacket of raised gold, the placard embroidered with diamonds and other +rich stones, and a great bauderike about his neck of large balasses." +The favourites of James I wore ear-rings of emeralds set in gold +filigrane. Edward II gave to Piers Gaveston a suit of red-gold armour +studded with jacinths, a collar of gold roses set with +turquoise-stones, and a skull-cap _parseme_ with pearls. Henry II wore +jewelled gloves reaching to the elbow, and had a hawk-glove sewn with +twelve rubies and fifty-two great orients. The ducal hat of Charles +the Rash, the last Duke of Burgundy of his race, was hung with +pear-shaped pearls and studded with sapphires. + +How exquisite life had once been! How gorgeous in its pomp and +decoration! Even to read of the luxury of the dead was wonderful. + +Then he turned his attention to embroideries and to the tapestries that +performed the office of frescoes in the chill rooms of the northern +nations of Europe. As he investigated the subject--and he always had +an extraordinary faculty of becoming absolutely absorbed for the moment +in whatever he took up--he was almost saddened by the reflection of the +ruin that time brought on beautiful and wonderful things. He, at any +rate, had escaped that. Summer followed summer, and the yellow +jonquils bloomed and died many times, and nights of horror repeated the +story of their shame, but he was unchanged. No winter marred his face +or stained his flowerlike bloom. How different it was with material +things! Where had they passed to? Where was the great crocus-coloured +robe, on which the gods fought against the giants, that had been worked +by brown girls for the pleasure of Athena? Where the huge velarium +that Nero had stretched across the Colosseum at Rome, that Titan sail +of purple on which was represented the starry sky, and Apollo driving a +chariot drawn by white, gilt-reined steeds? He longed to see the +curious table-napkins wrought for the Priest of the Sun, on which were +displayed all the dainties and viands that could be wanted for a feast; +the mortuary cloth of King Chilperic, with its three hundred golden +bees; the fantastic robes that excited the indignation of the Bishop of +Pontus and were figured with "lions, panthers, bears, dogs, forests, +rocks, hunters--all, in fact, that a painter can copy from nature"; and +the coat that Charles of Orleans once wore, on the sleeves of which +were embroidered the verses of a song beginning "_Madame, je suis tout +joyeux_," the musical accompaniment of the words being wrought in gold +thread, and each note, of square shape in those days, formed with four +pearls. He read of the room that was prepared at the palace at Rheims +for the use of Queen Joan of Burgundy and was decorated with "thirteen +hundred and twenty-one parrots, made in broidery, and blazoned with the +king's arms, and five hundred and sixty-one butterflies, whose wings +were similarly ornamented with the arms of the queen, the whole worked +in gold." Catherine de Medicis had a mourning-bed made for her of +black velvet powdered with crescents and suns. Its curtains were of +damask, with leafy wreaths and garlands, figured upon a gold and silver +ground, and fringed along the edges with broideries of pearls, and it +stood in a room hung with rows of the queen's devices in cut black +velvet upon cloth of silver. Louis XIV had gold embroidered caryatides +fifteen feet high in his apartment. The state bed of Sobieski, King of +Poland, was made of Smyrna gold brocade embroidered in turquoises with +verses from the Koran. Its supports were of silver gilt, beautifully +chased, and profusely set with enamelled and jewelled medallions. It +had been taken from the Turkish camp before Vienna, and the standard of +Mohammed had stood beneath the tremulous gilt of its canopy. + +And so, for a whole year, he sought to accumulate the most exquisite +specimens that he could find of textile and embroidered work, getting +the dainty Delhi muslins, finely wrought with gold-thread palmates and +stitched over with iridescent beetles' wings; the Dacca gauzes, that +from their transparency are known in the East as "woven air," and +"running water," and "evening dew"; strange figured cloths from Java; +elaborate yellow Chinese hangings; books bound in tawny satins or fair +blue silks and wrought with _fleurs-de-lis_, birds and images; veils of +_lacis_ worked in Hungary point; Sicilian brocades and stiff Spanish +velvets; Georgian work, with its gilt coins, and Japanese _Foukousas_, +with their green-toned golds and their marvellously plumaged birds. + +He had a special passion, also, for ecclesiastical vestments, as indeed +he had for everything connected with the service of the Church. In the +long cedar chests that lined the west gallery of his house, he had +stored away many rare and beautiful specimens of what is really the +raiment of the Bride of Christ, who must wear purple and jewels and +fine linen that she may hide the pallid macerated body that is worn by +the suffering that she seeks for and wounded by self-inflicted pain. +He possessed a gorgeous cope of crimson silk and gold-thread damask, +figured with a repeating pattern of golden pomegranates set in +six-petalled formal blossoms, beyond which on either side was the +pine-apple device wrought in seed-pearls. The orphreys were divided +into panels representing scenes from the life of the Virgin, and the +coronation of the Virgin was figured in coloured silks upon the hood. +This was Italian work of the fifteenth century. Another cope was of +green velvet, embroidered with heart-shaped groups of acanthus-leaves, +from which spread long-stemmed white blossoms, the details of which +were picked out with silver thread and coloured crystals. The morse +bore a seraph's head in gold-thread raised work. The orphreys were +woven in a diaper of red and gold silk, and were starred with +medallions of many saints and martyrs, among whom was St. Sebastian. +He had chasubles, also, of amber-coloured silk, and blue silk and gold +brocade, and yellow silk damask and cloth of gold, figured with +representations of the Passion and Crucifixion of Christ, and +embroidered with lions and peacocks and other emblems; dalmatics of +white satin and pink silk damask, decorated with tulips and dolphins +and _fleurs-de-lis_; altar frontals of crimson velvet and blue linen; and +many corporals, chalice-veils, and sudaria. In the mystic offices to +which such things were put, there was something that quickened his +imagination. + +For these treasures, and everything that he collected in his lovely +house, were to be to him means of forgetfulness, modes by which he +could escape, for a season, from the fear that seemed to him at times +to be almost too great to be borne. Upon the walls of the lonely +locked room where he had spent so much of his boyhood, he had hung with +his own hands the terrible portrait whose changing features showed him +the real degradation of his life, and in front of it had draped the +purple-and-gold pall as a curtain. For weeks he would not go there, +would forget the hideous painted thing, and get back his light heart, +his wonderful joyousness, his passionate absorption in mere existence. +Then, suddenly, some night he would creep out of the house, go down to +dreadful places near Blue Gate Fields, and stay there, day after day, +until he was driven away. On his return he would sit in front of the +picture, sometimes loathing it and himself, but filled, at other +times, with that pride of individualism that is half the +fascination of sin, and smiling with secret pleasure at the misshapen +shadow that had to bear the burden that should have been his own. + +After a few years he could not endure to be long out of England, and +gave up the villa that he had shared at Trouville with Lord Henry, as +well as the little white walled-in house at Algiers where they had more +than once spent the winter. He hated to be separated from the picture +that was such a part of his life, and was also afraid that during his +absence some one might gain access to the room, in spite of the +elaborate bars that he had caused to be placed upon the door. + +He was quite conscious that this would tell them nothing. It was true +that the portrait still preserved, under all the foulness and ugliness +of the face, its marked likeness to himself; but what could they learn +from that? He would laugh at any one who tried to taunt him. He had +not painted it. What was it to him how vile and full of shame it +looked? Even if he told them, would they believe it? + +Yet he was afraid. Sometimes when he was down at his great house in +Nottinghamshire, entertaining the fashionable young men of his own rank +who were his chief companions, and astounding the county by the wanton +luxury and gorgeous splendour of his mode of life, he would suddenly +leave his guests and rush back to town to see that the door had not +been tampered with and that the picture was still there. What if it +should be stolen? The mere thought made him cold with horror. Surely +the world would know his secret then. Perhaps the world already +suspected it. + +For, while he fascinated many, there were not a few who distrusted him. +He was very nearly blackballed at a West End club of which his birth +and social position fully entitled him to become a member, and it was +said that on one occasion, when he was brought by a friend into the +smoking-room of the Churchill, the Duke of Berwick and another +gentleman got up in a marked manner and went out. Curious stories +became current about him after he had passed his twenty-fifth year. It +was rumoured that he had been seen brawling with foreign sailors in a +low den in the distant parts of Whitechapel, and that he consorted with +thieves and coiners and knew the mysteries of their trade. His +extraordinary absences became notorious, and, when he used to reappear +again in society, men would whisper to each other in corners, or pass +him with a sneer, or look at him with cold searching eyes, as though +they were determined to discover his secret. + +Of such insolences and attempted slights he, of course, took no notice, +and in the opinion of most people his frank debonair manner, his +charming boyish smile, and the infinite grace of that wonderful youth +that seemed never to leave him, were in themselves a sufficient answer +to the calumnies, for so they termed them, that were circulated about +him. It was remarked, however, that some of those who had been most +intimate with him appeared, after a time, to shun him. Women who had +wildly adored him, and for his sake had braved all social censure and +set convention at defiance, were seen to grow pallid with shame or +horror if Dorian Gray entered the room. + +Yet these whispered scandals only increased in the eyes of many his +strange and dangerous charm. His great wealth was a certain element of +security. Society--civilized society, at least--is never very ready to +believe anything to the detriment of those who are both rich and +fascinating. It feels instinctively that manners are of more +importance than morals, and, in its opinion, the highest respectability +is of much less value than the possession of a good _chef_. And, after +all, it is a very poor consolation to be told that the man who has +given one a bad dinner, or poor wine, is irreproachable in his private +life. Even the cardinal virtues cannot atone for half-cold _entrees_, as +Lord Henry remarked once, in a discussion on the subject, and there is +possibly a good deal to be said for his view. For the canons of good +society are, or should be, the same as the canons of art. Form is +absolutely essential to it. It should have the dignity of a ceremony, +as well as its unreality, and should combine the insincere character of +a romantic play with the wit and beauty that make such plays delightful +to us. Is insincerity such a terrible thing? I think not. It is +merely a method by which we can multiply our personalities. + +Such, at any rate, was Dorian Gray's opinion. He used to wonder at the +shallow psychology of those who conceive the ego in man as a thing +simple, permanent, reliable, and of one essence. To him, man was a +being with myriad lives and myriad sensations, a complex multiform +creature that bore within itself strange legacies of thought and +passion, and whose very flesh was tainted with the monstrous maladies +of the dead. He loved to stroll through the gaunt cold picture-gallery +of his country house and look at the various portraits of those whose +blood flowed in his veins. Here was Philip Herbert, described by +Francis Osborne, in his Memoires on the Reigns of Queen Elizabeth and +King James, as one who was "caressed by the Court for his handsome +face, which kept him not long company." Was it young Herbert's life +that he sometimes led? Had some strange poisonous germ crept from body +to body till it had reached his own? Was it some dim sense of that +ruined grace that had made him so suddenly, and almost without cause, +give utterance, in Basil Hallward's studio, to the mad prayer that had +so changed his life? Here, in gold-embroidered red doublet, jewelled +surcoat, and gilt-edged ruff and wristbands, stood Sir Anthony Sherard, +with his silver-and-black armour piled at his feet. What had this +man's legacy been? Had the lover of Giovanna of Naples bequeathed him +some inheritance of sin and shame? Were his own actions merely the +dreams that the dead man had not dared to realize? Here, from the +fading canvas, smiled Lady Elizabeth Devereux, in her gauze hood, pearl +stomacher, and pink slashed sleeves. A flower was in her right hand, +and her left clasped an enamelled collar of white and damask roses. On +a table by her side lay a mandolin and an apple. There were large +green rosettes upon her little pointed shoes. He knew her life, and +the strange stories that were told about her lovers. Had he something +of her temperament in him? These oval, heavy-lidded eyes seemed to +look curiously at him. What of George Willoughby, with his powdered +hair and fantastic patches? How evil he looked! The face was +saturnine and swarthy, and the sensual lips seemed to be twisted with +disdain. Delicate lace ruffles fell over the lean yellow hands that +were so overladen with rings. He had been a macaroni of the eighteenth +century, and the friend, in his youth, of Lord Ferrars. What of the +second Lord Beckenham, the companion of the Prince Regent in his +wildest days, and one of the witnesses at the secret marriage with Mrs. +Fitzherbert? How proud and handsome he was, with his chestnut curls +and insolent pose! What passions had he bequeathed? The world had +looked upon him as infamous. He had led the orgies at Carlton House. +The star of the Garter glittered upon his breast. Beside him hung the +portrait of his wife, a pallid, thin-lipped woman in black. Her blood, +also, stirred within him. How curious it all seemed! And his mother +with her Lady Hamilton face and her moist, wine-dashed lips--he knew +what he had got from her. He had got from her his beauty, and his +passion for the beauty of others. She laughed at him in her loose +Bacchante dress. There were vine leaves in her hair. The purple +spilled from the cup she was holding. The carnations of the painting +had withered, but the eyes were still wonderful in their depth and +brilliancy of colour. They seemed to follow him wherever he went. + +Yet one had ancestors in literature as well as in one's own race, +nearer perhaps in type and temperament, many of them, and certainly +with an influence of which one was more absolutely conscious. There +were times when it appeared to Dorian Gray that the whole of history +was merely the record of his own life, not as he had lived it in act +and circumstance, but as his imagination had created it for him, as it +had been in his brain and in his passions. He felt that he had known +them all, those strange terrible figures that had passed across the +stage of the world and made sin so marvellous and evil so full of +subtlety. It seemed to him that in some mysterious way their lives had +been his own. + +The hero of the wonderful novel that had so influenced his life had +himself known this curious fancy. In the seventh chapter he tells how, +crowned with laurel, lest lightning might strike him, he had sat, as +Tiberius, in a garden at Capri, reading the shameful books of +Elephantis, while dwarfs and peacocks strutted round him and the +flute-player mocked the swinger of the censer; and, as Caligula, had +caroused with the green-shirted jockeys in their stables and supped in +an ivory manger with a jewel-frontleted horse; and, as Domitian, had +wandered through a corridor lined with marble mirrors, looking round +with haggard eyes for the reflection of the dagger that was to end his +days, and sick with that ennui, that terrible _taedium vitae_, that comes +on those to whom life denies nothing; and had peered through a clear +emerald at the red shambles of the circus and then, in a litter of +pearl and purple drawn by silver-shod mules, been carried through the +Street of Pomegranates to a House of Gold and heard men cry on Nero +Caesar as he passed by; and, as Elagabalus, had painted his face with +colours, and plied the distaff among the women, and brought the Moon +from Carthage and given her in mystic marriage to the Sun. + +Over and over again Dorian used to read this fantastic chapter, and the +two chapters immediately following, in which, as in some curious +tapestries or cunningly wrought enamels, were pictured the awful and +beautiful forms of those whom vice and blood and weariness had made +monstrous or mad: Filippo, Duke of Milan, who slew his wife and +painted her lips with a scarlet poison that her lover might suck death +from the dead thing he fondled; Pietro Barbi, the Venetian, known as +Paul the Second, who sought in his vanity to assume the title of +Formosus, and whose tiara, valued at two hundred thousand florins, was +bought at the price of a terrible sin; Gian Maria Visconti, who used +hounds to chase living men and whose murdered body was covered with +roses by a harlot who had loved him; the Borgia on his white horse, +with Fratricide riding beside him and his mantle stained with the blood +of Perotto; Pietro Riario, the young Cardinal Archbishop of Florence, +child and minion of Sixtus IV, whose beauty was equalled only by his +debauchery, and who received Leonora of Aragon in a pavilion of white +and crimson silk, filled with nymphs and centaurs, and gilded a boy +that he might serve at the feast as Ganymede or Hylas; Ezzelin, whose +melancholy could be cured only by the spectacle of death, and who had a +passion for red blood, as other men have for red wine--the son of the +Fiend, as was reported, and one who had cheated his father at dice when +gambling with him for his own soul; Giambattista Cibo, who in mockery +took the name of Innocent and into whose torpid veins the blood of +three lads was infused by a Jewish doctor; Sigismondo Malatesta, the +lover of Isotta and the lord of Rimini, whose effigy was burned at Rome +as the enemy of God and man, who strangled Polyssena with a napkin, and +gave poison to Ginevra d'Este in a cup of emerald, and in honour of a +shameful passion built a pagan church for Christian worship; Charles +VI, who had so wildly adored his brother's wife that a leper had warned +him of the insanity that was coming on him, and who, when his brain had +sickened and grown strange, could only be soothed by Saracen cards +painted with the images of love and death and madness; and, in his +trimmed jerkin and jewelled cap and acanthuslike curls, Grifonetto +Baglioni, who slew Astorre with his bride, and Simonetto with his page, +and whose comeliness was such that, as he lay dying in the yellow +piazza of Perugia, those who had hated him could not choose but weep, +and Atalanta, who had cursed him, blessed him. + +There was a horrible fascination in them all. He saw them at night, +and they troubled his imagination in the day. The Renaissance knew of +strange manners of poisoning--poisoning by a helmet and a lighted +torch, by an embroidered glove and a jewelled fan, by a gilded pomander +and by an amber chain. Dorian Gray had been poisoned by a book. There +were moments when he looked on evil simply as a mode through which he +could realize his conception of the beautiful. + + + +CHAPTER 12 + +It was on the ninth of November, the eve of his own thirty-eighth +birthday, as he often remembered afterwards. + +He was walking home about eleven o'clock from Lord Henry's, where he +had been dining, and was wrapped in heavy furs, as the night was cold +and foggy. At the corner of Grosvenor Square and South Audley Street, +a man passed him in the mist, walking very fast and with the collar of +his grey ulster turned up. He had a bag in his hand. Dorian +recognized him. It was Basil Hallward. A strange sense of fear, for +which he could not account, came over him. He made no sign of +recognition and went on quickly in the direction of his own house. + +But Hallward had seen him. Dorian heard him first stopping on the +pavement and then hurrying after him. In a few moments, his hand was +on his arm. + +"Dorian! What an extraordinary piece of luck! I have been waiting for +you in your library ever since nine o'clock. Finally I took pity on +your tired servant and told him to go to bed, as he let me out. I am +off to Paris by the midnight train, and I particularly wanted to see +you before I left. I thought it was you, or rather your fur coat, as +you passed me. But I wasn't quite sure. Didn't you recognize me?" + +"In this fog, my dear Basil? Why, I can't even recognize Grosvenor +Square. I believe my house is somewhere about here, but I don't feel +at all certain about it. I am sorry you are going away, as I have not +seen you for ages. But I suppose you will be back soon?" + +"No: I am going to be out of England for six months. I intend to take +a studio in Paris and shut myself up till I have finished a great +picture I have in my head. However, it wasn't about myself I wanted to +talk. Here we are at your door. Let me come in for a moment. I have +something to say to you." + +"I shall be charmed. But won't you miss your train?" said Dorian Gray +languidly as he passed up the steps and opened the door with his +latch-key. + +The lamplight struggled out through the fog, and Hallward looked at his +watch. "I have heaps of time," he answered. "The train doesn't go +till twelve-fifteen, and it is only just eleven. In fact, I was on my +way to the club to look for you, when I met you. You see, I shan't +have any delay about luggage, as I have sent on my heavy things. All I +have with me is in this bag, and I can easily get to Victoria in twenty +minutes." + +Dorian looked at him and smiled. "What a way for a fashionable painter +to travel! A Gladstone bag and an ulster! Come in, or the fog will +get into the house. And mind you don't talk about anything serious. +Nothing is serious nowadays. At least nothing should be." + +Hallward shook his head, as he entered, and followed Dorian into the +library. There was a bright wood fire blazing in the large open +hearth. The lamps were lit, and an open Dutch silver spirit-case +stood, with some siphons of soda-water and large cut-glass tumblers, on +a little marqueterie table. + +"You see your servant made me quite at home, Dorian. He gave me +everything I wanted, including your best gold-tipped cigarettes. He is +a most hospitable creature. I like him much better than the Frenchman +you used to have. What has become of the Frenchman, by the bye?" + +Dorian shrugged his shoulders. "I believe he married Lady Radley's +maid, and has established her in Paris as an English dressmaker. +Anglomania is very fashionable over there now, I hear. It seems silly +of the French, doesn't it? But--do you know?--he was not at all a bad +servant. I never liked him, but I had nothing to complain about. One +often imagines things that are quite absurd. He was really very +devoted to me and seemed quite sorry when he went away. Have another +brandy-and-soda? Or would you like hock-and-seltzer? I always take +hock-and-seltzer myself. There is sure to be some in the next room." + +"Thanks, I won't have anything more," said the painter, taking his cap +and coat off and throwing them on the bag that he had placed in the +corner. "And now, my dear fellow, I want to speak to you seriously. +Don't frown like that. You make it so much more difficult for me." + +"What is it all about?" cried Dorian in his petulant way, flinging +himself down on the sofa. "I hope it is not about myself. I am tired +of myself to-night. I should like to be somebody else." + +"It is about yourself," answered Hallward in his grave deep voice, "and +I must say it to you. I shall only keep you half an hour." + +Dorian sighed and lit a cigarette. "Half an hour!" he murmured. + +"It is not much to ask of you, Dorian, and it is entirely for your own +sake that I am speaking. I think it right that you should know that +the most dreadful things are being said against you in London." + +"I don't wish to know anything about them. I love scandals about other +people, but scandals about myself don't interest me. They have not got +the charm of novelty." + +"They must interest you, Dorian. Every gentleman is interested in his +good name. You don't want people to talk of you as something vile and +degraded. Of course, you have your position, and your wealth, and all +that kind of thing. But position and wealth are not everything. Mind +you, I don't believe these rumours at all. At least, I can't believe +them when I see you. Sin is a thing that writes itself across a man's +face. It cannot be concealed. People talk sometimes of secret vices. +There are no such things. If a wretched man has a vice, it shows +itself in the lines of his mouth, the droop of his eyelids, the +moulding of his hands even. Somebody--I won't mention his name, but +you know him--came to me last year to have his portrait done. I had +never seen him before, and had never heard anything about him at the +time, though I have heard a good deal since. He offered an extravagant +price. I refused him. There was something in the shape of his fingers +that I hated. I know now that I was quite right in what I fancied +about him. His life is dreadful. But you, Dorian, with your pure, +bright, innocent face, and your marvellous untroubled youth--I can't +believe anything against you. And yet I see you very seldom, and you +never come down to the studio now, and when I am away from you, and I +hear all these hideous things that people are whispering about you, I +don't know what to say. Why is it, Dorian, that a man like the Duke of +Berwick leaves the room of a club when you enter it? Why is it that so +many gentlemen in London will neither go to your house or invite you to +theirs? You used to be a friend of Lord Staveley. I met him at dinner +last week. Your name happened to come up in conversation, in +connection with the miniatures you have lent to the exhibition at the +Dudley. Staveley curled his lip and said that you might have the most +artistic tastes, but that you were a man whom no pure-minded girl +should be allowed to know, and whom no chaste woman should sit in the +same room with. I reminded him that I was a friend of yours, and asked +him what he meant. He told me. He told me right out before everybody. +It was horrible! Why is your friendship so fatal to young men? There +was that wretched boy in the Guards who committed suicide. You were +his great friend. There was Sir Henry Ashton, who had to leave England +with a tarnished name. You and he were inseparable. What about Adrian +Singleton and his dreadful end? What about Lord Kent's only son and +his career? I met his father yesterday in St. James's Street. He +seemed broken with shame and sorrow. What about the young Duke of +Perth? What sort of life has he got now? What gentleman would +associate with him?" + +"Stop, Basil. You are talking about things of which you know nothing," +said Dorian Gray, biting his lip, and with a note of infinite contempt +in his voice. "You ask me why Berwick leaves a room when I enter it. +It is because I know everything about his life, not because he knows +anything about mine. With such blood as he has in his veins, how could +his record be clean? You ask me about Henry Ashton and young Perth. +Did I teach the one his vices, and the other his debauchery? If Kent's +silly son takes his wife from the streets, what is that to me? If +Adrian Singleton writes his friend's name across a bill, am I his +keeper? I know how people chatter in England. The middle classes air +their moral prejudices over their gross dinner-tables, and whisper +about what they call the profligacies of their betters in order to try +and pretend that they are in smart society and on intimate terms with +the people they slander. In this country, it is enough for a man to +have distinction and brains for every common tongue to wag against him. +And what sort of lives do these people, who pose as being moral, lead +themselves? My dear fellow, you forget that we are in the native land +of the hypocrite." + +"Dorian," cried Hallward, "that is not the question. England is bad +enough I know, and English society is all wrong. That is the reason +why I want you to be fine. You have not been fine. One has a right to +judge of a man by the effect he has over his friends. Yours seem to +lose all sense of honour, of goodness, of purity. You have filled them +with a madness for pleasure. They have gone down into the depths. You +led them there. Yes: you led them there, and yet you can smile, as +you are smiling now. And there is worse behind. I know you and Harry +are inseparable. Surely for that reason, if for none other, you should +not have made his sister's name a by-word." + +"Take care, Basil. You go too far." + +"I must speak, and you must listen. You shall listen. When you met +Lady Gwendolen, not a breath of scandal had ever touched her. Is there +a single decent woman in London now who would drive with her in the +park? Why, even her children are not allowed to live with her. Then +there are other stories--stories that you have been seen creeping at +dawn out of dreadful houses and slinking in disguise into the foulest +dens in London. Are they true? Can they be true? When I first heard +them, I laughed. I hear them now, and they make me shudder. What +about your country-house and the life that is led there? Dorian, you +don't know what is said about you. I won't tell you that I don't want +to preach to you. I remember Harry saying once that every man who +turned himself into an amateur curate for the moment always began by +saying that, and then proceeded to break his word. I do want to preach +to you. I want you to lead such a life as will make the world respect +you. I want you to have a clean name and a fair record. I want you to +get rid of the dreadful people you associate with. Don't shrug your +shoulders like that. Don't be so indifferent. You have a wonderful +influence. Let it be for good, not for evil. They say that you +corrupt every one with whom you become intimate, and that it is quite +sufficient for you to enter a house for shame of some kind to follow +after. I don't know whether it is so or not. How should I know? But +it is said of you. I am told things that it seems impossible to doubt. +Lord Gloucester was one of my greatest friends at Oxford. He showed me +a letter that his wife had written to him when she was dying alone in +her villa at Mentone. Your name was implicated in the most terrible +confession I ever read. I told him that it was absurd--that I knew you +thoroughly and that you were incapable of anything of the kind. Know +you? I wonder do I know you? Before I could answer that, I should +have to see your soul." + +"To see my soul!" muttered Dorian Gray, starting up from the sofa and +turning almost white from fear. + +"Yes," answered Hallward gravely, and with deep-toned sorrow in his +voice, "to see your soul. But only God can do that." + +A bitter laugh of mockery broke from the lips of the younger man. "You +shall see it yourself, to-night!" he cried, seizing a lamp from the +table. "Come: it is your own handiwork. Why shouldn't you look at +it? You can tell the world all about it afterwards, if you choose. +Nobody would believe you. If they did believe you, they would like me +all the better for it. I know the age better than you do, though you +will prate about it so tediously. Come, I tell you. You have +chattered enough about corruption. Now you shall look on it face to +face." + +There was the madness of pride in every word he uttered. He stamped +his foot upon the ground in his boyish insolent manner. He felt a +terrible joy at the thought that some one else was to share his secret, +and that the man who had painted the portrait that was the origin of +all his shame was to be burdened for the rest of his life with the +hideous memory of what he had done. + +"Yes," he continued, coming closer to him and looking steadfastly into +his stern eyes, "I shall show you my soul. You shall see the thing +that you fancy only God can see." + +Hallward started back. "This is blasphemy, Dorian!" he cried. "You +must not say things like that. They are horrible, and they don't mean +anything." + +"You think so?" He laughed again. + +"I know so. As for what I said to you to-night, I said it for your +good. You know I have been always a stanch friend to you." + +"Don't touch me. Finish what you have to say." + +A twisted flash of pain shot across the painter's face. He paused for +a moment, and a wild feeling of pity came over him. After all, what +right had he to pry into the life of Dorian Gray? If he had done a +tithe of what was rumoured about him, how much he must have suffered! +Then he straightened himself up, and walked over to the fire-place, and +stood there, looking at the burning logs with their frostlike ashes and +their throbbing cores of flame. + +"I am waiting, Basil," said the young man in a hard clear voice. + +He turned round. "What I have to say is this," he cried. "You must +give me some answer to these horrible charges that are made against +you. If you tell me that they are absolutely untrue from beginning to +end, I shall believe you. Deny them, Dorian, deny them! Can't you see +what I am going through? My God! don't tell me that you are bad, and +corrupt, and shameful." + +Dorian Gray smiled. There was a curl of contempt in his lips. "Come +upstairs, Basil," he said quietly. "I keep a diary of my life from day +to day, and it never leaves the room in which it is written. I shall +show it to you if you come with me." + +"I shall come with you, Dorian, if you wish it. I see I have missed my +train. That makes no matter. I can go to-morrow. But don't ask me to +read anything to-night. All I want is a plain answer to my question." + +"That shall be given to you upstairs. I could not give it here. You +will not have to read long." + + + +CHAPTER 13 + +He passed out of the room and began the ascent, Basil Hallward +following close behind. They walked softly, as men do instinctively at +night. The lamp cast fantastic shadows on the wall and staircase. A +rising wind made some of the windows rattle. + +When they reached the top landing, Dorian set the lamp down on the +floor, and taking out the key, turned it in the lock. "You insist on +knowing, Basil?" he asked in a low voice. + +"Yes." + +"I am delighted," he answered, smiling. Then he added, somewhat +harshly, "You are the one man in the world who is entitled to know +everything about me. You have had more to do with my life than you +think"; and, taking up the lamp, he opened the door and went in. A +cold current of air passed them, and the light shot up for a moment in +a flame of murky orange. He shuddered. "Shut the door behind you," he +whispered, as he placed the lamp on the table. + +Hallward glanced round him with a puzzled expression. The room looked +as if it had not been lived in for years. A faded Flemish tapestry, a +curtained picture, an old Italian _cassone_, and an almost empty +book-case--that was all that it seemed to contain, besides a chair and +a table. As Dorian Gray was lighting a half-burned candle that was +standing on the mantelshelf, he saw that the whole place was covered +with dust and that the carpet was in holes. A mouse ran scuffling +behind the wainscoting. There was a damp odour of mildew. + +"So you think that it is only God who sees the soul, Basil? Draw that +curtain back, and you will see mine." + +The voice that spoke was cold and cruel. "You are mad, Dorian, or +playing a part," muttered Hallward, frowning. + +"You won't? Then I must do it myself," said the young man, and he tore +the curtain from its rod and flung it on the ground. + +An exclamation of horror broke from the painter's lips as he saw in the +dim light the hideous face on the canvas grinning at him. There was +something in its expression that filled him with disgust and loathing. +Good heavens! it was Dorian Gray's own face that he was looking at! +The horror, whatever it was, had not yet entirely spoiled that +marvellous beauty. There was still some gold in the thinning hair and +some scarlet on the sensual mouth. The sodden eyes had kept something +of the loveliness of their blue, the noble curves had not yet +completely passed away from chiselled nostrils and from plastic throat. +Yes, it was Dorian himself. But who had done it? He seemed to +recognize his own brushwork, and the frame was his own design. The +idea was monstrous, yet he felt afraid. He seized the lighted candle, +and held it to the picture. In the left-hand corner was his own name, +traced in long letters of bright vermilion. + +It was some foul parody, some infamous ignoble satire. He had never +done that. Still, it was his own picture. He knew it, and he felt as +if his blood had changed in a moment from fire to sluggish ice. His +own picture! What did it mean? Why had it altered? He turned and +looked at Dorian Gray with the eyes of a sick man. His mouth twitched, +and his parched tongue seemed unable to articulate. He passed his hand +across his forehead. It was dank with clammy sweat. + +The young man was leaning against the mantelshelf, watching him with +that strange expression that one sees on the faces of those who are +absorbed in a play when some great artist is acting. There was neither +real sorrow in it nor real joy. There was simply the passion of the +spectator, with perhaps a flicker of triumph in his eyes. He had taken +the flower out of his coat, and was smelling it, or pretending to do so. + +"What does this mean?" cried Hallward, at last. His own voice sounded +shrill and curious in his ears. + +"Years ago, when I was a boy," said Dorian Gray, crushing the flower in +his hand, "you met me, flattered me, and taught me to be vain of my +good looks. One day you introduced me to a friend of yours, who +explained to me the wonder of youth, and you finished a portrait of me +that revealed to me the wonder of beauty. In a mad moment that, even +now, I don't know whether I regret or not, I made a wish, perhaps you +would call it a prayer...." + +"I remember it! Oh, how well I remember it! No! the thing is +impossible. The room is damp. Mildew has got into the canvas. The +paints I used had some wretched mineral poison in them. I tell you the +thing is impossible." + +"Ah, what is impossible?" murmured the young man, going over to the +window and leaning his forehead against the cold, mist-stained glass. + +"You told me you had destroyed it." + +"I was wrong. It has destroyed me." + +"I don't believe it is my picture." + +"Can't you see your ideal in it?" said Dorian bitterly. + +"My ideal, as you call it..." + +"As you called it." + +"There was nothing evil in it, nothing shameful. You were to me such +an ideal as I shall never meet again. This is the face of a satyr." + +"It is the face of my soul." + +"Christ! what a thing I must have worshipped! It has the eyes of a +devil." + +"Each of us has heaven and hell in him, Basil," cried Dorian with a +wild gesture of despair. + +Hallward turned again to the portrait and gazed at it. "My God! If it +is true," he exclaimed, "and this is what you have done with your life, +why, you must be worse even than those who talk against you fancy you +to be!" He held the light up again to the canvas and examined it. The +surface seemed to be quite undisturbed and as he had left it. It was +from within, apparently, that the foulness and horror had come. +Through some strange quickening of inner life the leprosies of sin were +slowly eating the thing away. The rotting of a corpse in a watery +grave was not so fearful. + +His hand shook, and the candle fell from its socket on the floor and +lay there sputtering. He placed his foot on it and put it out. Then +he flung himself into the rickety chair that was standing by the table +and buried his face in his hands. + +"Good God, Dorian, what a lesson! What an awful lesson!" There was no +answer, but he could hear the young man sobbing at the window. "Pray, +Dorian, pray," he murmured. "What is it that one was taught to say in +one's boyhood? 'Lead us not into temptation. Forgive us our sins. +Wash away our iniquities.' Let us say that together. The prayer of +your pride has been answered. The prayer of your repentance will be +answered also. I worshipped you too much. I am punished for it. You +worshipped yourself too much. We are both punished." + +Dorian Gray turned slowly around and looked at him with tear-dimmed +eyes. "It is too late, Basil," he faltered. + +"It is never too late, Dorian. Let us kneel down and try if we cannot +remember a prayer. Isn't there a verse somewhere, 'Though your sins be +as scarlet, yet I will make them as white as snow'?" + +"Those words mean nothing to me now." + +"Hush! Don't say that. You have done enough evil in your life. My +God! Don't you see that accursed thing leering at us?" + +Dorian Gray glanced at the picture, and suddenly an uncontrollable +feeling of hatred for Basil Hallward came over him, as though it had +been suggested to him by the image on the canvas, whispered into his +ear by those grinning lips. The mad passions of a hunted animal +stirred within him, and he loathed the man who was seated at the table, +more than in his whole life he had ever loathed anything. He glanced +wildly around. Something glimmered on the top of the painted chest +that faced him. His eye fell on it. He knew what it was. It was a +knife that he had brought up, some days before, to cut a piece of cord, +and had forgotten to take away with him. He moved slowly towards it, +passing Hallward as he did so. As soon as he got behind him, he seized +it and turned round. Hallward stirred in his chair as if he was going +to rise. He rushed at him and dug the knife into the great vein that +is behind the ear, crushing the man's head down on the table and +stabbing again and again. + +There was a stifled groan and the horrible sound of some one choking +with blood. Three times the outstretched arms shot up convulsively, +waving grotesque, stiff-fingered hands in the air. He stabbed him +twice more, but the man did not move. Something began to trickle on +the floor. He waited for a moment, still pressing the head down. Then +he threw the knife on the table, and listened. + +He could hear nothing, but the drip, drip on the threadbare carpet. He +opened the door and went out on the landing. The house was absolutely +quiet. No one was about. For a few seconds he stood bending over the +balustrade and peering down into the black seething well of darkness. +Then he took out the key and returned to the room, locking himself in +as he did so. + +The thing was still seated in the chair, straining over the table with +bowed head, and humped back, and long fantastic arms. Had it not been +for the red jagged tear in the neck and the clotted black pool that was +slowly widening on the table, one would have said that the man was +simply asleep. + +How quickly it had all been done! He felt strangely calm, and walking +over to the window, opened it and stepped out on the balcony. The wind +had blown the fog away, and the sky was like a monstrous peacock's +tail, starred with myriads of golden eyes. He looked down and saw the +policeman going his rounds and flashing the long beam of his lantern on +the doors of the silent houses. The crimson spot of a prowling hansom +gleamed at the corner and then vanished. A woman in a fluttering shawl +was creeping slowly by the railings, staggering as she went. Now and +then she stopped and peered back. Once, she began to sing in a hoarse +voice. The policeman strolled over and said something to her. She +stumbled away, laughing. A bitter blast swept across the square. The +gas-lamps flickered and became blue, and the leafless trees shook their +black iron branches to and fro. He shivered and went back, closing the +window behind him. + +Having reached the door, he turned the key and opened it. He did not +even glance at the murdered man. He felt that the secret of the whole +thing was not to realize the situation. The friend who had painted the +fatal portrait to which all his misery had been due had gone out of his +life. That was enough. + +Then he remembered the lamp. It was a rather curious one of Moorish +workmanship, made of dull silver inlaid with arabesques of burnished +steel, and studded with coarse turquoises. Perhaps it might be missed +by his servant, and questions would be asked. He hesitated for a +moment, then he turned back and took it from the table. He could not +help seeing the dead thing. How still it was! How horribly white the +long hands looked! It was like a dreadful wax image. + +Having locked the door behind him, he crept quietly downstairs. The +woodwork creaked and seemed to cry out as if in pain. He stopped +several times and waited. No: everything was still. It was merely +the sound of his own footsteps. + +When he reached the library, he saw the bag and coat in the corner. +They must be hidden away somewhere. He unlocked a secret press that +was in the wainscoting, a press in which he kept his own curious +disguises, and put them into it. He could easily burn them afterwards. +Then he pulled out his watch. It was twenty minutes to two. + +He sat down and began to think. Every year--every month, almost--men +were strangled in England for what he had done. There had been a +madness of murder in the air. Some red star had come too close to the +earth.... And yet, what evidence was there against him? Basil Hallward +had left the house at eleven. No one had seen him come in again. Most +of the servants were at Selby Royal. His valet had gone to bed.... +Paris! Yes. It was to Paris that Basil had gone, and by the midnight +train, as he had intended. With his curious reserved habits, it would +be months before any suspicions would be roused. Months! Everything +could be destroyed long before then. + +A sudden thought struck him. He put on his fur coat and hat and went +out into the hall. There he paused, hearing the slow heavy tread of +the policeman on the pavement outside and seeing the flash of the +bull's-eye reflected in the window. He waited and held his breath. + +After a few moments he drew back the latch and slipped out, shutting +the door very gently behind him. Then he began ringing the bell. In +about five minutes his valet appeared, half-dressed and looking very +drowsy. + +"I am sorry to have had to wake you up, Francis," he said, stepping in; +"but I had forgotten my latch-key. What time is it?" + +"Ten minutes past two, sir," answered the man, looking at the clock and +blinking. + +"Ten minutes past two? How horribly late! You must wake me at nine +to-morrow. I have some work to do." + +"All right, sir." + +"Did any one call this evening?" + +"Mr. Hallward, sir. He stayed here till eleven, and then he went away +to catch his train." + +"Oh! I am sorry I didn't see him. Did he leave any message?" + +"No, sir, except that he would write to you from Paris, if he did not +find you at the club." + +"That will do, Francis. Don't forget to call me at nine to-morrow." + +"No, sir." + +The man shambled down the passage in his slippers. + +Dorian Gray threw his hat and coat upon the table and passed into the +library. For a quarter of an hour he walked up and down the room, +biting his lip and thinking. Then he took down the Blue Book from one +of the shelves and began to turn over the leaves. "Alan Campbell, 152, +Hertford Street, Mayfair." Yes; that was the man he wanted. + + + +CHAPTER 14 + +At nine o'clock the next morning his servant came in with a cup of +chocolate on a tray and opened the shutters. Dorian was sleeping quite +peacefully, lying on his right side, with one hand underneath his +cheek. He looked like a boy who had been tired out with play, or study. + +The man had to touch him twice on the shoulder before he woke, and as +he opened his eyes a faint smile passed across his lips, as though he +had been lost in some delightful dream. Yet he had not dreamed at all. +His night had been untroubled by any images of pleasure or of pain. +But youth smiles without any reason. It is one of its chiefest charms. + +He turned round, and leaning upon his elbow, began to sip his +chocolate. The mellow November sun came streaming into the room. The +sky was bright, and there was a genial warmth in the air. It was +almost like a morning in May. + +Gradually the events of the preceding night crept with silent, +blood-stained feet into his brain and reconstructed themselves there +with terrible distinctness. He winced at the memory of all that he had +suffered, and for a moment the same curious feeling of loathing for +Basil Hallward that had made him kill him as he sat in the chair came +back to him, and he grew cold with passion. The dead man was still +sitting there, too, and in the sunlight now. How horrible that was! +Such hideous things were for the darkness, not for the day. + +He felt that if he brooded on what he had gone through he would sicken +or grow mad. There were sins whose fascination was more in the memory +than in the doing of them, strange triumphs that gratified the pride +more than the passions, and gave to the intellect a quickened sense of +joy, greater than any joy they brought, or could ever bring, to the +senses. But this was not one of them. It was a thing to be driven out +of the mind, to be drugged with poppies, to be strangled lest it might +strangle one itself. + +When the half-hour struck, he passed his hand across his forehead, and +then got up hastily and dressed himself with even more than his usual +care, giving a good deal of attention to the choice of his necktie and +scarf-pin and changing his rings more than once. He spent a long time +also over breakfast, tasting the various dishes, talking to his valet +about some new liveries that he was thinking of getting made for the +servants at Selby, and going through his correspondence. At some of +the letters, he smiled. Three of them bored him. One he read several +times over and then tore up with a slight look of annoyance in his +face. "That awful thing, a woman's memory!" as Lord Henry had once +said. + +After he had drunk his cup of black coffee, he wiped his lips slowly +with a napkin, motioned to his servant to wait, and going over to the +table, sat down and wrote two letters. One he put in his pocket, the +other he handed to the valet. + +"Take this round to 152, Hertford Street, Francis, and if Mr. Campbell +is out of town, get his address." + +As soon as he was alone, he lit a cigarette and began sketching upon a +piece of paper, drawing first flowers and bits of architecture, and +then human faces. Suddenly he remarked that every face that he drew +seemed to have a fantastic likeness to Basil Hallward. He frowned, and +getting up, went over to the book-case and took out a volume at hazard. +He was determined that he would not think about what had happened until +it became absolutely necessary that he should do so. + +When he had stretched himself on the sofa, he looked at the title-page +of the book. It was Gautier's Emaux et Camees, Charpentier's +Japanese-paper edition, with the Jacquemart etching. The binding was +of citron-green leather, with a design of gilt trellis-work and dotted +pomegranates. It had been given to him by Adrian Singleton. As he +turned over the pages, his eye fell on the poem about the hand of +Lacenaire, the cold yellow hand "_du supplice encore mal lavee_," with +its downy red hairs and its "_doigts de faune_." He glanced at his own +white taper fingers, shuddering slightly in spite of himself, and +passed on, till he came to those lovely stanzas upon Venice: + + Sur une gamme chromatique, + Le sein de peries ruisselant, + La Venus de l'Adriatique + Sort de l'eau son corps rose et blanc. + + Les domes, sur l'azur des ondes + Suivant la phrase au pur contour, + S'enflent comme des gorges rondes + Que souleve un soupir d'amour. + + L'esquif aborde et me depose, + Jetant son amarre au pilier, + Devant une facade rose, + Sur le marbre d'un escalier. + + +How exquisite they were! As one read them, one seemed to be floating +down the green water-ways of the pink and pearl city, seated in a black +gondola with silver prow and trailing curtains. The mere lines looked +to him like those straight lines of turquoise-blue that follow one as +one pushes out to the Lido. The sudden flashes of colour reminded him +of the gleam of the opal-and-iris-throated birds that flutter round the +tall honeycombed Campanile, or stalk, with such stately grace, through +the dim, dust-stained arcades. Leaning back with half-closed eyes, he +kept saying over and over to himself: + + "Devant une facade rose, + Sur le marbre d'un escalier." + +The whole of Venice was in those two lines. He remembered the autumn +that he had passed there, and a wonderful love that had stirred him to +mad delightful follies. There was romance in every place. But Venice, +like Oxford, had kept the background for romance, and, to the true +romantic, background was everything, or almost everything. Basil had +been with him part of the time, and had gone wild over Tintoret. Poor +Basil! What a horrible way for a man to die! + +He sighed, and took up the volume again, and tried to forget. He read +of the swallows that fly in and out of the little _cafe_ at Smyrna where +the Hadjis sit counting their amber beads and the turbaned merchants +smoke their long tasselled pipes and talk gravely to each other; he +read of the Obelisk in the Place de la Concorde that weeps tears of +granite in its lonely sunless exile and longs to be back by the hot, +lotus-covered Nile, where there are Sphinxes, and rose-red ibises, and +white vultures with gilded claws, and crocodiles with small beryl eyes +that crawl over the green steaming mud; he began to brood over those +verses which, drawing music from kiss-stained marble, tell of that +curious statue that Gautier compares to a contralto voice, the "_monstre +charmant_" that couches in the porphyry-room of the Louvre. But after a +time the book fell from his hand. He grew nervous, and a horrible fit +of terror came over him. What if Alan Campbell should be out of +England? Days would elapse before he could come back. Perhaps he +might refuse to come. What could he do then? Every moment was of +vital importance. + +They had been great friends once, five years before--almost +inseparable, indeed. Then the intimacy had come suddenly to an end. +When they met in society now, it was only Dorian Gray who smiled: Alan +Campbell never did. + +He was an extremely clever young man, though he had no real +appreciation of the visible arts, and whatever little sense of the +beauty of poetry he possessed he had gained entirely from Dorian. His +dominant intellectual passion was for science. At Cambridge he had +spent a great deal of his time working in the laboratory, and had taken +a good class in the Natural Science Tripos of his year. Indeed, he was +still devoted to the study of chemistry, and had a laboratory of his +own in which he used to shut himself up all day long, greatly to the +annoyance of his mother, who had set her heart on his standing for +Parliament and had a vague idea that a chemist was a person who made up +prescriptions. He was an excellent musician, however, as well, and +played both the violin and the piano better than most amateurs. In +fact, it was music that had first brought him and Dorian Gray +together--music and that indefinable attraction that Dorian seemed to +be able to exercise whenever he wished--and, indeed, exercised often +without being conscious of it. They had met at Lady Berkshire's the +night that Rubinstein played there, and after that used to be always +seen together at the opera and wherever good music was going on. For +eighteen months their intimacy lasted. Campbell was always either at +Selby Royal or in Grosvenor Square. To him, as to many others, Dorian +Gray was the type of everything that is wonderful and fascinating in +life. Whether or not a quarrel had taken place between them no one +ever knew. But suddenly people remarked that they scarcely spoke when +they met and that Campbell seemed always to go away early from any +party at which Dorian Gray was present. He had changed, too--was +strangely melancholy at times, appeared almost to dislike hearing +music, and would never himself play, giving as his excuse, when he was +called upon, that he was so absorbed in science that he had no time +left in which to practise. And this was certainly true. Every day he +seemed to become more interested in biology, and his name appeared once +or twice in some of the scientific reviews in connection with certain +curious experiments. + +This was the man Dorian Gray was waiting for. Every second he kept +glancing at the clock. As the minutes went by he became horribly +agitated. At last he got up and began to pace up and down the room, +looking like a beautiful caged thing. He took long stealthy strides. +His hands were curiously cold. + +The suspense became unbearable. Time seemed to him to be crawling with +feet of lead, while he by monstrous winds was being swept towards the +jagged edge of some black cleft of precipice. He knew what was waiting +for him there; saw it, indeed, and, shuddering, crushed with dank hands +his burning lids as though he would have robbed the very brain of sight +and driven the eyeballs back into their cave. It was useless. The +brain had its own food on which it battened, and the imagination, made +grotesque by terror, twisted and distorted as a living thing by pain, +danced like some foul puppet on a stand and grinned through moving +masks. Then, suddenly, time stopped for him. Yes: that blind, +slow-breathing thing crawled no more, and horrible thoughts, time being +dead, raced nimbly on in front, and dragged a hideous future from its +grave, and showed it to him. He stared at it. Its very horror made +him stone. + +At last the door opened and his servant entered. He turned glazed eyes +upon him. + +"Mr. Campbell, sir," said the man. + +A sigh of relief broke from his parched lips, and the colour came back +to his cheeks. + +"Ask him to come in at once, Francis." He felt that he was himself +again. His mood of cowardice had passed away. + +The man bowed and retired. In a few moments, Alan Campbell walked in, +looking very stern and rather pale, his pallor being intensified by his +coal-black hair and dark eyebrows. + +"Alan! This is kind of you. I thank you for coming." + +"I had intended never to enter your house again, Gray. But you said it +was a matter of life and death." His voice was hard and cold. He +spoke with slow deliberation. There was a look of contempt in the +steady searching gaze that he turned on Dorian. He kept his hands in +the pockets of his Astrakhan coat, and seemed not to have noticed the +gesture with which he had been greeted. + +"Yes: it is a matter of life and death, Alan, and to more than one +person. Sit down." + +Campbell took a chair by the table, and Dorian sat opposite to him. +The two men's eyes met. In Dorian's there was infinite pity. He knew +that what he was going to do was dreadful. + +After a strained moment of silence, he leaned across and said, very +quietly, but watching the effect of each word upon the face of him he +had sent for, "Alan, in a locked room at the top of this house, a room +to which nobody but myself has access, a dead man is seated at a table. +He has been dead ten hours now. Don't stir, and don't look at me like +that. Who the man is, why he died, how he died, are matters that do +not concern you. What you have to do is this--" + +"Stop, Gray. I don't want to know anything further. Whether what you +have told me is true or not true doesn't concern me. I entirely +decline to be mixed up in your life. Keep your horrible secrets to +yourself. They don't interest me any more." + +"Alan, they will have to interest you. This one will have to interest +you. I am awfully sorry for you, Alan. But I can't help myself. You +are the one man who is able to save me. I am forced to bring you into +the matter. I have no option. Alan, you are scientific. You know +about chemistry and things of that kind. You have made experiments. +What you have got to do is to destroy the thing that is upstairs--to +destroy it so that not a vestige of it will be left. Nobody saw this +person come into the house. Indeed, at the present moment he is +supposed to be in Paris. He will not be missed for months. When he is +missed, there must be no trace of him found here. You, Alan, you must +change him, and everything that belongs to him, into a handful of ashes +that I may scatter in the air." + +"You are mad, Dorian." + +"Ah! I was waiting for you to call me Dorian." + +"You are mad, I tell you--mad to imagine that I would raise a finger to +help you, mad to make this monstrous confession. I will have nothing +to do with this matter, whatever it is. Do you think I am going to +peril my reputation for you? What is it to me what devil's work you +are up to?" + +"It was suicide, Alan." + +"I am glad of that. But who drove him to it? You, I should fancy." + +"Do you still refuse to do this for me?" + +"Of course I refuse. I will have absolutely nothing to do with it. I +don't care what shame comes on you. You deserve it all. I should not +be sorry to see you disgraced, publicly disgraced. How dare you ask +me, of all men in the world, to mix myself up in this horror? I should +have thought you knew more about people's characters. Your friend Lord +Henry Wotton can't have taught you much about psychology, whatever else +he has taught you. Nothing will induce me to stir a step to help you. +You have come to the wrong man. Go to some of your friends. Don't +come to me." + +"Alan, it was murder. I killed him. You don't know what he had made +me suffer. Whatever my life is, he had more to do with the making or +the marring of it than poor Harry has had. He may not have intended +it, the result was the same." + +"Murder! Good God, Dorian, is that what you have come to? I shall not +inform upon you. It is not my business. Besides, without my stirring +in the matter, you are certain to be arrested. Nobody ever commits a +crime without doing something stupid. But I will have nothing to do +with it." + +"You must have something to do with it. Wait, wait a moment; listen to +me. Only listen, Alan. All I ask of you is to perform a certain +scientific experiment. You go to hospitals and dead-houses, and the +horrors that you do there don't affect you. If in some hideous +dissecting-room or fetid laboratory you found this man lying on a +leaden table with red gutters scooped out in it for the blood to flow +through, you would simply look upon him as an admirable subject. You +would not turn a hair. You would not believe that you were doing +anything wrong. On the contrary, you would probably feel that you were +benefiting the human race, or increasing the sum of knowledge in the +world, or gratifying intellectual curiosity, or something of that kind. +What I want you to do is merely what you have often done before. +Indeed, to destroy a body must be far less horrible than what you are +accustomed to work at. And, remember, it is the only piece of evidence +against me. If it is discovered, I am lost; and it is sure to be +discovered unless you help me." + +"I have no desire to help you. You forget that. I am simply +indifferent to the whole thing. It has nothing to do with me." + +"Alan, I entreat you. Think of the position I am in. Just before you +came I almost fainted with terror. You may know terror yourself some +day. No! don't think of that. Look at the matter purely from the +scientific point of view. You don't inquire where the dead things on +which you experiment come from. Don't inquire now. I have told you +too much as it is. But I beg of you to do this. We were friends once, +Alan." + +"Don't speak about those days, Dorian--they are dead." + +"The dead linger sometimes. The man upstairs will not go away. He is +sitting at the table with bowed head and outstretched arms. Alan! +Alan! If you don't come to my assistance, I am ruined. Why, they will +hang me, Alan! Don't you understand? They will hang me for what I +have done." + +"There is no good in prolonging this scene. I absolutely refuse to do +anything in the matter. It is insane of you to ask me." + +"You refuse?" + +"Yes." + +"I entreat you, Alan." + +"It is useless." + +The same look of pity came into Dorian Gray's eyes. Then he stretched +out his hand, took a piece of paper, and wrote something on it. He +read it over twice, folded it carefully, and pushed it across the +table. Having done this, he got up and went over to the window. + +Campbell looked at him in surprise, and then took up the paper, and +opened it. As he read it, his face became ghastly pale and he fell +back in his chair. A horrible sense of sickness came over him. He +felt as if his heart was beating itself to death in some empty hollow. + +After two or three minutes of terrible silence, Dorian turned round and +came and stood behind him, putting his hand upon his shoulder. + +"I am so sorry for you, Alan," he murmured, "but you leave me no +alternative. I have a letter written already. Here it is. You see +the address. If you don't help me, I must send it. If you don't help +me, I will send it. You know what the result will be. But you are +going to help me. It is impossible for you to refuse now. I tried to +spare you. You will do me the justice to admit that. You were stern, +harsh, offensive. You treated me as no man has ever dared to treat +me--no living man, at any rate. I bore it all. Now it is for me to +dictate terms." + +Campbell buried his face in his hands, and a shudder passed through him. + +"Yes, it is my turn to dictate terms, Alan. You know what they are. +The thing is quite simple. Come, don't work yourself into this fever. +The thing has to be done. Face it, and do it." + +A groan broke from Campbell's lips and he shivered all over. The +ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece seemed to him to be dividing +time into separate atoms of agony, each of which was too terrible to be +borne. He felt as if an iron ring was being slowly tightened round his +forehead, as if the disgrace with which he was threatened had already +come upon him. The hand upon his shoulder weighed like a hand of lead. +It was intolerable. It seemed to crush him. + +"Come, Alan, you must decide at once." + +"I cannot do it," he said, mechanically, as though words could alter +things. + +"You must. You have no choice. Don't delay." + +He hesitated a moment. "Is there a fire in the room upstairs?" + +"Yes, there is a gas-fire with asbestos." + +"I shall have to go home and get some things from the laboratory." + +"No, Alan, you must not leave the house. Write out on a sheet of +notepaper what you want and my servant will take a cab and bring the +things back to you." + +Campbell scrawled a few lines, blotted them, and addressed an envelope +to his assistant. Dorian took the note up and read it carefully. Then +he rang the bell and gave it to his valet, with orders to return as +soon as possible and to bring the things with him. + +As the hall door shut, Campbell started nervously, and having got up +from the chair, went over to the chimney-piece. He was shivering with a +kind of ague. For nearly twenty minutes, neither of the men spoke. A +fly buzzed noisily about the room, and the ticking of the clock was +like the beat of a hammer. + +As the chime struck one, Campbell turned round, and looking at Dorian +Gray, saw that his eyes were filled with tears. There was something in +the purity and refinement of that sad face that seemed to enrage him. +"You are infamous, absolutely infamous!" he muttered. + +"Hush, Alan. You have saved my life," said Dorian. + +"Your life? Good heavens! what a life that is! You have gone from +corruption to corruption, and now you have culminated in crime. In +doing what I am going to do--what you force me to do--it is not of your +life that I am thinking." + +"Ah, Alan," murmured Dorian with a sigh, "I wish you had a thousandth +part of the pity for me that I have for you." He turned away as he +spoke and stood looking out at the garden. Campbell made no answer. + +After about ten minutes a knock came to the door, and the servant +entered, carrying a large mahogany chest of chemicals, with a long coil +of steel and platinum wire and two rather curiously shaped iron clamps. + +"Shall I leave the things here, sir?" he asked Campbell. + +"Yes," said Dorian. "And I am afraid, Francis, that I have another +errand for you. What is the name of the man at Richmond who supplies +Selby with orchids?" + +"Harden, sir." + +"Yes--Harden. You must go down to Richmond at once, see Harden +personally, and tell him to send twice as many orchids as I ordered, +and to have as few white ones as possible. In fact, I don't want any +white ones. It is a lovely day, Francis, and Richmond is a very pretty +place--otherwise I wouldn't bother you about it." + +"No trouble, sir. At what time shall I be back?" + +Dorian looked at Campbell. "How long will your experiment take, Alan?" +he said in a calm indifferent voice. The presence of a third person in +the room seemed to give him extraordinary courage. + +Campbell frowned and bit his lip. "It will take about five hours," he +answered. + +"It will be time enough, then, if you are back at half-past seven, +Francis. Or stay: just leave my things out for dressing. You can +have the evening to yourself. I am not dining at home, so I shall not +want you." + +"Thank you, sir," said the man, leaving the room. + +"Now, Alan, there is not a moment to be lost. How heavy this chest is! +I'll take it for you. You bring the other things." He spoke rapidly +and in an authoritative manner. Campbell felt dominated by him. They +left the room together. + +When they reached the top landing, Dorian took out the key and turned +it in the lock. Then he stopped, and a troubled look came into his +eyes. He shuddered. "I don't think I can go in, Alan," he murmured. + +"It is nothing to me. I don't require you," said Campbell coldly. + +Dorian half opened the door. As he did so, he saw the face of his +portrait leering in the sunlight. On the floor in front of it the torn +curtain was lying. He remembered that the night before he had +forgotten, for the first time in his life, to hide the fatal canvas, +and was about to rush forward, when he drew back with a shudder. + +What was that loathsome red dew that gleamed, wet and glistening, on +one of the hands, as though the canvas had sweated blood? How horrible +it was!--more horrible, it seemed to him for the moment, than the +silent thing that he knew was stretched across the table, the thing +whose grotesque misshapen shadow on the spotted carpet showed him that +it had not stirred, but was still there, as he had left it. + +He heaved a deep breath, opened the door a little wider, and with +half-closed eyes and averted head, walked quickly in, determined that +he would not look even once upon the dead man. Then, stooping down and +taking up the gold-and-purple hanging, he flung it right over the +picture. + +There he stopped, feeling afraid to turn round, and his eyes fixed +themselves on the intricacies of the pattern before him. He heard +Campbell bringing in the heavy chest, and the irons, and the other +things that he had required for his dreadful work. He began to wonder +if he and Basil Hallward had ever met, and, if so, what they had +thought of each other. + +"Leave me now," said a stern voice behind him. + +He turned and hurried out, just conscious that the dead man had been +thrust back into the chair and that Campbell was gazing into a +glistening yellow face. As he was going downstairs, he heard the key +being turned in the lock. + +It was long after seven when Campbell came back into the library. He +was pale, but absolutely calm. "I have done what you asked me to do," +he muttered. "And now, good-bye. Let us never see each other again." + +"You have saved me from ruin, Alan. I cannot forget that," said Dorian +simply. + +As soon as Campbell had left, he went upstairs. There was a horrible +smell of nitric acid in the room. But the thing that had been sitting +at the table was gone. + + + +CHAPTER 15 + +That evening, at eight-thirty, exquisitely dressed and wearing a large +button-hole of Parma violets, Dorian Gray was ushered into Lady +Narborough's drawing-room by bowing servants. His forehead was +throbbing with maddened nerves, and he felt wildly excited, but his +manner as he bent over his hostess's hand was as easy and graceful as +ever. Perhaps one never seems so much at one's ease as when one has to +play a part. Certainly no one looking at Dorian Gray that night could +have believed that he had passed through a tragedy as horrible as any +tragedy of our age. Those finely shaped fingers could never have +clutched a knife for sin, nor those smiling lips have cried out on God +and goodness. He himself could not help wondering at the calm of his +demeanour, and for a moment felt keenly the terrible pleasure of a +double life. + +It was a small party, got up rather in a hurry by Lady Narborough, who +was a very clever woman with what Lord Henry used to describe as the +remains of really remarkable ugliness. She had proved an excellent +wife to one of our most tedious ambassadors, and having buried her +husband properly in a marble mausoleum, which she had herself designed, +and married off her daughters to some rich, rather elderly men, she +devoted herself now to the pleasures of French fiction, French cookery, +and French _esprit_ when she could get it. + +Dorian was one of her especial favourites, and she always told him that +she was extremely glad she had not met him in early life. "I know, my +dear, I should have fallen madly in love with you," she used to say, +"and thrown my bonnet right over the mills for your sake. It is most +fortunate that you were not thought of at the time. As it was, our +bonnets were so unbecoming, and the mills were so occupied in trying to +raise the wind, that I never had even a flirtation with anybody. +However, that was all Narborough's fault. He was dreadfully +short-sighted, and there is no pleasure in taking in a husband who +never sees anything." + +Her guests this evening were rather tedious. The fact was, as she +explained to Dorian, behind a very shabby fan, one of her married +daughters had come up quite suddenly to stay with her, and, to make +matters worse, had actually brought her husband with her. "I think it +is most unkind of her, my dear," she whispered. "Of course I go and +stay with them every summer after I come from Homburg, but then an old +woman like me must have fresh air sometimes, and besides, I really wake +them up. You don't know what an existence they lead down there. It is +pure unadulterated country life. They get up early, because they have +so much to do, and go to bed early, because they have so little to +think about. There has not been a scandal in the neighbourhood since +the time of Queen Elizabeth, and consequently they all fall asleep +after dinner. You shan't sit next either of them. You shall sit by me +and amuse me." + +Dorian murmured a graceful compliment and looked round the room. Yes: +it was certainly a tedious party. Two of the people he had never seen +before, and the others consisted of Ernest Harrowden, one of those +middle-aged mediocrities so common in London clubs who have no enemies, +but are thoroughly disliked by their friends; Lady Ruxton, an +overdressed woman of forty-seven, with a hooked nose, who was always +trying to get herself compromised, but was so peculiarly plain that to +her great disappointment no one would ever believe anything against +her; Mrs. Erlynne, a pushing nobody, with a delightful lisp and +Venetian-red hair; Lady Alice Chapman, his hostess's daughter, a dowdy +dull girl, with one of those characteristic British faces that, once +seen, are never remembered; and her husband, a red-cheeked, +white-whiskered creature who, like so many of his class, was under the +impression that inordinate joviality can atone for an entire lack of +ideas. + +He was rather sorry he had come, till Lady Narborough, looking at the +great ormolu gilt clock that sprawled in gaudy curves on the +mauve-draped mantelshelf, exclaimed: "How horrid of Henry Wotton to be +so late! I sent round to him this morning on chance and he promised +faithfully not to disappoint me." + +It was some consolation that Harry was to be there, and when the door +opened and he heard his slow musical voice lending charm to some +insincere apology, he ceased to feel bored. + +But at dinner he could not eat anything. Plate after plate went away +untasted. Lady Narborough kept scolding him for what she called "an +insult to poor Adolphe, who invented the _menu_ specially for you," and +now and then Lord Henry looked across at him, wondering at his silence +and abstracted manner. From time to time the butler filled his glass +with champagne. He drank eagerly, and his thirst seemed to increase. + +"Dorian," said Lord Henry at last, as the _chaud-froid_ was being handed +round, "what is the matter with you to-night? You are quite out of +sorts." + +"I believe he is in love," cried Lady Narborough, "and that he is +afraid to tell me for fear I should be jealous. He is quite right. I +certainly should." + +"Dear Lady Narborough," murmured Dorian, smiling, "I have not been in +love for a whole week--not, in fact, since Madame de Ferrol left town." + +"How you men can fall in love with that woman!" exclaimed the old lady. +"I really cannot understand it." + +"It is simply because she remembers you when you were a little girl, +Lady Narborough," said Lord Henry. "She is the one link between us and +your short frocks." + +"She does not remember my short frocks at all, Lord Henry. But I +remember her very well at Vienna thirty years ago, and how _decolletee_ +she was then." + +"She is still _decolletee_," he answered, taking an olive in his long +fingers; "and when she is in a very smart gown she looks like an +_edition de luxe_ of a bad French novel. She is really wonderful, and +full of surprises. Her capacity for family affection is extraordinary. +When her third husband died, her hair turned quite gold from grief." + +"How can you, Harry!" cried Dorian. + +"It is a most romantic explanation," laughed the hostess. "But her +third husband, Lord Henry! You don't mean to say Ferrol is the fourth?" + +"Certainly, Lady Narborough." + +"I don't believe a word of it." + +"Well, ask Mr. Gray. He is one of her most intimate friends." + +"Is it true, Mr. Gray?" + +"She assures me so, Lady Narborough," said Dorian. "I asked her +whether, like Marguerite de Navarre, she had their hearts embalmed and +hung at her girdle. She told me she didn't, because none of them had +had any hearts at all." + +"Four husbands! Upon my word that is _trop de zele_." + +"_Trop d'audace_, I tell her," said Dorian. + +"Oh! she is audacious enough for anything, my dear. And what is Ferrol +like? I don't know him." + +"The husbands of very beautiful women belong to the criminal classes," +said Lord Henry, sipping his wine. + +Lady Narborough hit him with her fan. "Lord Henry, I am not at all +surprised that the world says that you are extremely wicked." + +"But what world says that?" asked Lord Henry, elevating his eyebrows. +"It can only be the next world. This world and I are on excellent +terms." + +"Everybody I know says you are very wicked," cried the old lady, +shaking her head. + +Lord Henry looked serious for some moments. "It is perfectly +monstrous," he said, at last, "the way people go about nowadays saying +things against one behind one's back that are absolutely and entirely +true." + +"Isn't he incorrigible?" cried Dorian, leaning forward in his chair. + +"I hope so," said his hostess, laughing. "But really, if you all +worship Madame de Ferrol in this ridiculous way, I shall have to marry +again so as to be in the fashion." + +"You will never marry again, Lady Narborough," broke in Lord Henry. +"You were far too happy. When a woman marries again, it is because she +detested her first husband. When a man marries again, it is because he +adored his first wife. Women try their luck; men risk theirs." + +"Narborough wasn't perfect," cried the old lady. + +"If he had been, you would not have loved him, my dear lady," was the +rejoinder. "Women love us for our defects. If we have enough of them, +they will forgive us everything, even our intellects. You will never +ask me to dinner again after saying this, I am afraid, Lady Narborough, +but it is quite true." + +"Of course it is true, Lord Henry. If we women did not love you for +your defects, where would you all be? Not one of you would ever be +married. You would be a set of unfortunate bachelors. Not, however, +that that would alter you much. Nowadays all the married men live like +bachelors, and all the bachelors like married men." + +"_Fin de siecle_," murmured Lord Henry. + +"_Fin du globe_," answered his hostess. + +"I wish it were _fin du globe_," said Dorian with a sigh. "Life is a +great disappointment." + +"Ah, my dear," cried Lady Narborough, putting on her gloves, "don't +tell me that you have exhausted life. When a man says that one knows +that life has exhausted him. Lord Henry is very wicked, and I +sometimes wish that I had been; but you are made to be good--you look +so good. I must find you a nice wife. Lord Henry, don't you think +that Mr. Gray should get married?" + +"I am always telling him so, Lady Narborough," said Lord Henry with a +bow. + +"Well, we must look out for a suitable match for him. I shall go +through Debrett carefully to-night and draw out a list of all the +eligible young ladies." + +"With their ages, Lady Narborough?" asked Dorian. + +"Of course, with their ages, slightly edited. But nothing must be done +in a hurry. I want it to be what _The Morning Post_ calls a suitable +alliance, and I want you both to be happy." + +"What nonsense people talk about happy marriages!" exclaimed Lord +Henry. "A man can be happy with any woman, as long as he does not love +her." + +"Ah! what a cynic you are!" cried the old lady, pushing back her chair +and nodding to Lady Ruxton. "You must come and dine with me soon +again. You are really an admirable tonic, much better than what Sir +Andrew prescribes for me. You must tell me what people you would like +to meet, though. I want it to be a delightful gathering." + +"I like men who have a future and women who have a past," he answered. +"Or do you think that would make it a petticoat party?" + +"I fear so," she said, laughing, as she stood up. "A thousand pardons, +my dear Lady Ruxton," she added, "I didn't see you hadn't finished your +cigarette." + +"Never mind, Lady Narborough. I smoke a great deal too much. I am +going to limit myself, for the future." + +"Pray don't, Lady Ruxton," said Lord Henry. "Moderation is a fatal +thing. Enough is as bad as a meal. More than enough is as good as a +feast." + +Lady Ruxton glanced at him curiously. "You must come and explain that +to me some afternoon, Lord Henry. It sounds a fascinating theory," she +murmured, as she swept out of the room. + +"Now, mind you don't stay too long over your politics and scandal," +cried Lady Narborough from the door. "If you do, we are sure to +squabble upstairs." + +The men laughed, and Mr. Chapman got up solemnly from the foot of the +table and came up to the top. Dorian Gray changed his seat and went +and sat by Lord Henry. Mr. Chapman began to talk in a loud voice about +the situation in the House of Commons. He guffawed at his adversaries. +The word _doctrinaire_--word full of terror to the British +mind--reappeared from time to time between his explosions. An +alliterative prefix served as an ornament of oratory. He hoisted the +Union Jack on the pinnacles of thought. The inherited stupidity of the +race--sound English common sense he jovially termed it--was shown to be +the proper bulwark for society. + +A smile curved Lord Henry's lips, and he turned round and looked at +Dorian. + +"Are you better, my dear fellow?" he asked. "You seemed rather out of +sorts at dinner." + +"I am quite well, Harry. I am tired. That is all." + +"You were charming last night. The little duchess is quite devoted to +you. She tells me she is going down to Selby." + +"She has promised to come on the twentieth." + +"Is Monmouth to be there, too?" + +"Oh, yes, Harry." + +"He bores me dreadfully, almost as much as he bores her. She is very +clever, too clever for a woman. She lacks the indefinable charm of +weakness. It is the feet of clay that make the gold of the image +precious. Her feet are very pretty, but they are not feet of clay. +White porcelain feet, if you like. They have been through the fire, +and what fire does not destroy, it hardens. She has had experiences." + +"How long has she been married?" asked Dorian. + +"An eternity, she tells me. I believe, according to the peerage, it is +ten years, but ten years with Monmouth must have been like eternity, +with time thrown in. Who else is coming?" + +"Oh, the Willoughbys, Lord Rugby and his wife, our hostess, Geoffrey +Clouston, the usual set. I have asked Lord Grotrian." + +"I like him," said Lord Henry. "A great many people don't, but I find +him charming. He atones for being occasionally somewhat overdressed by +being always absolutely over-educated. He is a very modern type." + +"I don't know if he will be able to come, Harry. He may have to go to +Monte Carlo with his father." + +"Ah! what a nuisance people's people are! Try and make him come. By +the way, Dorian, you ran off very early last night. You left before +eleven. What did you do afterwards? Did you go straight home?" + +Dorian glanced at him hurriedly and frowned. + +"No, Harry," he said at last, "I did not get home till nearly three." + +"Did you go to the club?" + +"Yes," he answered. Then he bit his lip. "No, I don't mean that. I +didn't go to the club. I walked about. I forget what I did.... How +inquisitive you are, Harry! You always want to know what one has been +doing. I always want to forget what I have been doing. I came in at +half-past two, if you wish to know the exact time. I had left my +latch-key at home, and my servant had to let me in. If you want any +corroborative evidence on the subject, you can ask him." + +Lord Henry shrugged his shoulders. "My dear fellow, as if I cared! +Let us go up to the drawing-room. No sherry, thank you, Mr. Chapman. +Something has happened to you, Dorian. Tell me what it is. You are +not yourself to-night." + +"Don't mind me, Harry. I am irritable, and out of temper. I shall +come round and see you to-morrow, or next day. Make my excuses to Lady +Narborough. I shan't go upstairs. I shall go home. I must go home." + +"All right, Dorian. I dare say I shall see you to-morrow at tea-time. +The duchess is coming." + +"I will try to be there, Harry," he said, leaving the room. As he +drove back to his own house, he was conscious that the sense of terror +he thought he had strangled had come back to him. Lord Henry's casual +questioning had made him lose his nerve for the moment, and he wanted +his nerve still. Things that were dangerous had to be destroyed. He +winced. He hated the idea of even touching them. + +Yet it had to be done. He realized that, and when he had locked the +door of his library, he opened the secret press into which he had +thrust Basil Hallward's coat and bag. A huge fire was blazing. He +piled another log on it. The smell of the singeing clothes and burning +leather was horrible. It took him three-quarters of an hour to consume +everything. At the end he felt faint and sick, and having lit some +Algerian pastilles in a pierced copper brazier, he bathed his hands and +forehead with a cool musk-scented vinegar. + +Suddenly he started. His eyes grew strangely bright, and he gnawed +nervously at his underlip. Between two of the windows stood a large +Florentine cabinet, made out of ebony and inlaid with ivory and blue +lapis. He watched it as though it were a thing that could fascinate +and make afraid, as though it held something that he longed for and yet +almost loathed. His breath quickened. A mad craving came over him. +He lit a cigarette and then threw it away. His eyelids drooped till +the long fringed lashes almost touched his cheek. But he still watched +the cabinet. At last he got up from the sofa on which he had been +lying, went over to it, and having unlocked it, touched some hidden +spring. A triangular drawer passed slowly out. His fingers moved +instinctively towards it, dipped in, and closed on something. It was a +small Chinese box of black and gold-dust lacquer, elaborately wrought, +the sides patterned with curved waves, and the silken cords hung with +round crystals and tasselled in plaited metal threads. He opened it. +Inside was a green paste, waxy in lustre, the odour curiously heavy and +persistent. + +He hesitated for some moments, with a strangely immobile smile upon his +face. Then shivering, though the atmosphere of the room was terribly +hot, he drew himself up and glanced at the clock. It was twenty +minutes to twelve. He put the box back, shutting the cabinet doors as +he did so, and went into his bedroom. + +As midnight was striking bronze blows upon the dusky air, Dorian Gray, +dressed commonly, and with a muffler wrapped round his throat, crept +quietly out of his house. In Bond Street he found a hansom with a good +horse. He hailed it and in a low voice gave the driver an address. + +The man shook his head. "It is too far for me," he muttered. + +"Here is a sovereign for you," said Dorian. "You shall have another if +you drive fast." + +"All right, sir," answered the man, "you will be there in an hour," and +after his fare had got in he turned his horse round and drove rapidly +towards the river. + + + +CHAPTER 16 + +A cold rain began to fall, and the blurred street-lamps looked ghastly +in the dripping mist. The public-houses were just closing, and dim men +and women were clustering in broken groups round their doors. From +some of the bars came the sound of horrible laughter. In others, +drunkards brawled and screamed. + +Lying back in the hansom, with his hat pulled over his forehead, Dorian +Gray watched with listless eyes the sordid shame of the great city, and +now and then he repeated to himself the words that Lord Henry had said +to him on the first day they had met, "To cure the soul by means of the +senses, and the senses by means of the soul." Yes, that was the +secret. He had often tried it, and would try it again now. There were +opium dens where one could buy oblivion, dens of horror where the +memory of old sins could be destroyed by the madness of sins that were +new. + +The moon hung low in the sky like a yellow skull. From time to time a +huge misshapen cloud stretched a long arm across and hid it. The +gas-lamps grew fewer, and the streets more narrow and gloomy. Once the +man lost his way and had to drive back half a mile. A steam rose from +the horse as it splashed up the puddles. The sidewindows of the hansom +were clogged with a grey-flannel mist. + +"To cure the soul by means of the senses, and the senses by means of +the soul!" How the words rang in his ears! His soul, certainly, was +sick to death. Was it true that the senses could cure it? Innocent +blood had been spilled. What could atone for that? Ah! for that there +was no atonement; but though forgiveness was impossible, forgetfulness +was possible still, and he was determined to forget, to stamp the thing +out, to crush it as one would crush the adder that had stung one. +Indeed, what right had Basil to have spoken to him as he had done? Who +had made him a judge over others? He had said things that were +dreadful, horrible, not to be endured. + +On and on plodded the hansom, going slower, it seemed to him, at each +step. He thrust up the trap and called to the man to drive faster. +The hideous hunger for opium began to gnaw at him. His throat burned +and his delicate hands twitched nervously together. He struck at the +horse madly with his stick. The driver laughed and whipped up. He +laughed in answer, and the man was silent. + +The way seemed interminable, and the streets like the black web of some +sprawling spider. The monotony became unbearable, and as the mist +thickened, he felt afraid. + +Then they passed by lonely brickfields. The fog was lighter here, and +he could see the strange, bottle-shaped kilns with their orange, +fanlike tongues of fire. A dog barked as they went by, and far away in +the darkness some wandering sea-gull screamed. The horse stumbled in a +rut, then swerved aside and broke into a gallop. + +After some time they left the clay road and rattled again over +rough-paven streets. Most of the windows were dark, but now and then +fantastic shadows were silhouetted against some lamplit blind. He +watched them curiously. They moved like monstrous marionettes and made +gestures like live things. He hated them. A dull rage was in his +heart. As they turned a corner, a woman yelled something at them from +an open door, and two men ran after the hansom for about a hundred +yards. The driver beat at them with his whip. + +It is said that passion makes one think in a circle. Certainly with +hideous iteration the bitten lips of Dorian Gray shaped and reshaped +those subtle words that dealt with soul and sense, till he had found in +them the full expression, as it were, of his mood, and justified, by +intellectual approval, passions that without such justification would +still have dominated his temper. From cell to cell of his brain crept +the one thought; and the wild desire to live, most terrible of all +man's appetites, quickened into force each trembling nerve and fibre. +Ugliness that had once been hateful to him because it made things real, +became dear to him now for that very reason. Ugliness was the one +reality. The coarse brawl, the loathsome den, the crude violence of +disordered life, the very vileness of thief and outcast, were more +vivid, in their intense actuality of impression, than all the gracious +shapes of art, the dreamy shadows of song. They were what he needed +for forgetfulness. In three days he would be free. + +Suddenly the man drew up with a jerk at the top of a dark lane. Over +the low roofs and jagged chimney-stacks of the houses rose the black +masts of ships. Wreaths of white mist clung like ghostly sails to the +yards. + +"Somewhere about here, sir, ain't it?" he asked huskily through the +trap. + +Dorian started and peered round. "This will do," he answered, and +having got out hastily and given the driver the extra fare he had +promised him, he walked quickly in the direction of the quay. Here and +there a lantern gleamed at the stern of some huge merchantman. The +light shook and splintered in the puddles. A red glare came from an +outward-bound steamer that was coaling. The slimy pavement looked like +a wet mackintosh. + +He hurried on towards the left, glancing back now and then to see if he +was being followed. In about seven or eight minutes he reached a small +shabby house that was wedged in between two gaunt factories. In one of +the top-windows stood a lamp. He stopped and gave a peculiar knock. + +After a little time he heard steps in the passage and the chain being +unhooked. The door opened quietly, and he went in without saying a +word to the squat misshapen figure that flattened itself into the +shadow as he passed. At the end of the hall hung a tattered green +curtain that swayed and shook in the gusty wind which had followed him +in from the street. He dragged it aside and entered a long low room +which looked as if it had once been a third-rate dancing-saloon. Shrill +flaring gas-jets, dulled and distorted in the fly-blown mirrors that +faced them, were ranged round the walls. Greasy reflectors of ribbed +tin backed them, making quivering disks of light. The floor was +covered with ochre-coloured sawdust, trampled here and there into mud, +and stained with dark rings of spilled liquor. Some Malays were +crouching by a little charcoal stove, playing with bone counters and +showing their white teeth as they chattered. In one corner, with his +head buried in his arms, a sailor sprawled over a table, and by the +tawdrily painted bar that ran across one complete side stood two +haggard women, mocking an old man who was brushing the sleeves of his +coat with an expression of disgust. "He thinks he's got red ants on +him," laughed one of them, as Dorian passed by. The man looked at her +in terror and began to whimper. + +At the end of the room there was a little staircase, leading to a +darkened chamber. As Dorian hurried up its three rickety steps, the +heavy odour of opium met him. He heaved a deep breath, and his +nostrils quivered with pleasure. When he entered, a young man with +smooth yellow hair, who was bending over a lamp lighting a long thin +pipe, looked up at him and nodded in a hesitating manner. + +"You here, Adrian?" muttered Dorian. + +"Where else should I be?" he answered, listlessly. "None of the chaps +will speak to me now." + +"I thought you had left England." + +"Darlington is not going to do anything. My brother paid the bill at +last. George doesn't speak to me either.... I don't care," he added +with a sigh. "As long as one has this stuff, one doesn't want friends. +I think I have had too many friends." + +Dorian winced and looked round at the grotesque things that lay in such +fantastic postures on the ragged mattresses. The twisted limbs, the +gaping mouths, the staring lustreless eyes, fascinated him. He knew in +what strange heavens they were suffering, and what dull hells were +teaching them the secret of some new joy. They were better off than he +was. He was prisoned in thought. Memory, like a horrible malady, was +eating his soul away. From time to time he seemed to see the eyes of +Basil Hallward looking at him. Yet he felt he could not stay. The +presence of Adrian Singleton troubled him. He wanted to be where no +one would know who he was. He wanted to escape from himself. + +"I am going on to the other place," he said after a pause. + +"On the wharf?" + +"Yes." + +"That mad-cat is sure to be there. They won't have her in this place +now." + +Dorian shrugged his shoulders. "I am sick of women who love one. +Women who hate one are much more interesting. Besides, the stuff is +better." + +"Much the same." + +"I like it better. Come and have something to drink. I must have +something." + +"I don't want anything," murmured the young man. + +"Never mind." + +Adrian Singleton rose up wearily and followed Dorian to the bar. A +half-caste, in a ragged turban and a shabby ulster, grinned a hideous +greeting as he thrust a bottle of brandy and two tumblers in front of +them. The women sidled up and began to chatter. Dorian turned his +back on them and said something in a low voice to Adrian Singleton. + +A crooked smile, like a Malay crease, writhed across the face of one of +the women. "We are very proud to-night," she sneered. + +"For God's sake don't talk to me," cried Dorian, stamping his foot on +the ground. "What do you want? Money? Here it is. Don't ever talk +to me again." + +Two red sparks flashed for a moment in the woman's sodden eyes, then +flickered out and left them dull and glazed. She tossed her head and +raked the coins off the counter with greedy fingers. Her companion +watched her enviously. + +"It's no use," sighed Adrian Singleton. "I don't care to go back. +What does it matter? I am quite happy here." + +"You will write to me if you want anything, won't you?" said Dorian, +after a pause. + +"Perhaps." + +"Good night, then." + +"Good night," answered the young man, passing up the steps and wiping +his parched mouth with a handkerchief. + +Dorian walked to the door with a look of pain in his face. As he drew +the curtain aside, a hideous laugh broke from the painted lips of the +woman who had taken his money. "There goes the devil's bargain!" she +hiccoughed, in a hoarse voice. + +"Curse you!" he answered, "don't call me that." + +She snapped her fingers. "Prince Charming is what you like to be +called, ain't it?" she yelled after him. + +The drowsy sailor leaped to his feet as she spoke, and looked wildly +round. The sound of the shutting of the hall door fell on his ear. He +rushed out as if in pursuit. + +Dorian Gray hurried along the quay through the drizzling rain. His +meeting with Adrian Singleton had strangely moved him, and he wondered +if the ruin of that young life was really to be laid at his door, as +Basil Hallward had said to him with such infamy of insult. He bit his +lip, and for a few seconds his eyes grew sad. Yet, after all, what did +it matter to him? One's days were too brief to take the burden of +another's errors on one's shoulders. Each man lived his own life and +paid his own price for living it. The only pity was one had to pay so +often for a single fault. One had to pay over and over again, indeed. +In her dealings with man, destiny never closed her accounts. + +There are moments, psychologists tell us, when the passion for sin, or +for what the world calls sin, so dominates a nature that every fibre of +the body, as every cell of the brain, seems to be instinct with fearful +impulses. Men and women at such moments lose the freedom of their +will. They move to their terrible end as automatons move. Choice is +taken from them, and conscience is either killed, or, if it lives at +all, lives but to give rebellion its fascination and disobedience its +charm. For all sins, as theologians weary not of reminding us, are +sins of disobedience. When that high spirit, that morning star of +evil, fell from heaven, it was as a rebel that he fell. + +Callous, concentrated on evil, with stained mind, and soul hungry for +rebellion, Dorian Gray hastened on, quickening his step as he went, but +as he darted aside into a dim archway, that had served him often as a +short cut to the ill-famed place where he was going, he felt himself +suddenly seized from behind, and before he had time to defend himself, +he was thrust back against the wall, with a brutal hand round his +throat. + +He struggled madly for life, and by a terrible effort wrenched the +tightening fingers away. In a second he heard the click of a revolver, +and saw the gleam of a polished barrel, pointing straight at his head, +and the dusky form of a short, thick-set man facing him. + +"What do you want?" he gasped. + +"Keep quiet," said the man. "If you stir, I shoot you." + +"You are mad. What have I done to you?" + +"You wrecked the life of Sibyl Vane," was the answer, "and Sibyl Vane +was my sister. She killed herself. I know it. Her death is at your +door. I swore I would kill you in return. For years I have sought +you. I had no clue, no trace. The two people who could have described +you were dead. I knew nothing of you but the pet name she used to call +you. I heard it to-night by chance. Make your peace with God, for +to-night you are going to die." + +Dorian Gray grew sick with fear. "I never knew her," he stammered. "I +never heard of her. You are mad." + +"You had better confess your sin, for as sure as I am James Vane, you +are going to die." There was a horrible moment. Dorian did not know +what to say or do. "Down on your knees!" growled the man. "I give you +one minute to make your peace--no more. I go on board to-night for +India, and I must do my job first. One minute. That's all." + +Dorian's arms fell to his side. Paralysed with terror, he did not know +what to do. Suddenly a wild hope flashed across his brain. "Stop," he +cried. "How long ago is it since your sister died? Quick, tell me!" + +"Eighteen years," said the man. "Why do you ask me? What do years +matter?" + +"Eighteen years," laughed Dorian Gray, with a touch of triumph in his +voice. "Eighteen years! Set me under the lamp and look at my face!" + +James Vane hesitated for a moment, not understanding what was meant. +Then he seized Dorian Gray and dragged him from the archway. + +Dim and wavering as was the wind-blown light, yet it served to show him +the hideous error, as it seemed, into which he had fallen, for the face +of the man he had sought to kill had all the bloom of boyhood, all the +unstained purity of youth. He seemed little more than a lad of twenty +summers, hardly older, if older indeed at all, than his sister had been +when they had parted so many years ago. It was obvious that this was +not the man who had destroyed her life. + +He loosened his hold and reeled back. "My God! my God!" he cried, "and +I would have murdered you!" + +Dorian Gray drew a long breath. "You have been on the brink of +committing a terrible crime, my man," he said, looking at him sternly. +"Let this be a warning to you not to take vengeance into your own +hands." + +"Forgive me, sir," muttered James Vane. "I was deceived. A chance +word I heard in that damned den set me on the wrong track." + +"You had better go home and put that pistol away, or you may get into +trouble," said Dorian, turning on his heel and going slowly down the +street. + +James Vane stood on the pavement in horror. He was trembling from head +to foot. After a little while, a black shadow that had been creeping +along the dripping wall moved out into the light and came close to him +with stealthy footsteps. He felt a hand laid on his arm and looked +round with a start. It was one of the women who had been drinking at +the bar. + +"Why didn't you kill him?" she hissed out, putting haggard face quite +close to his. "I knew you were following him when you rushed out from +Daly's. You fool! You should have killed him. He has lots of money, +and he's as bad as bad." + +"He is not the man I am looking for," he answered, "and I want no man's +money. I want a man's life. The man whose life I want must be nearly +forty now. This one is little more than a boy. Thank God, I have not +got his blood upon my hands." + +The woman gave a bitter laugh. "Little more than a boy!" she sneered. +"Why, man, it's nigh on eighteen years since Prince Charming made me +what I am." + +"You lie!" cried James Vane. + +She raised her hand up to heaven. "Before God I am telling the truth," +she cried. + +"Before God?" + +"Strike me dumb if it ain't so. He is the worst one that comes here. +They say he has sold himself to the devil for a pretty face. It's nigh +on eighteen years since I met him. He hasn't changed much since then. +I have, though," she added, with a sickly leer. + +"You swear this?" + +"I swear it," came in hoarse echo from her flat mouth. "But don't give +me away to him," she whined; "I am afraid of him. Let me have some +money for my night's lodging." + +He broke from her with an oath and rushed to the corner of the street, +but Dorian Gray had disappeared. When he looked back, the woman had +vanished also. + + + +CHAPTER 17 + +A week later Dorian Gray was sitting in the conservatory at Selby +Royal, talking to the pretty Duchess of Monmouth, who with her husband, +a jaded-looking man of sixty, was amongst his guests. It was tea-time, +and the mellow light of the huge, lace-covered lamp that stood on the +table lit up the delicate china and hammered silver of the service at +which the duchess was presiding. Her white hands were moving daintily +among the cups, and her full red lips were smiling at something that +Dorian had whispered to her. Lord Henry was lying back in a +silk-draped wicker chair, looking at them. On a peach-coloured divan +sat Lady Narborough, pretending to listen to the duke's description of +the last Brazilian beetle that he had added to his collection. Three +young men in elaborate smoking-suits were handing tea-cakes to some of +the women. The house-party consisted of twelve people, and there were +more expected to arrive on the next day. + +"What are you two talking about?" said Lord Henry, strolling over to +the table and putting his cup down. "I hope Dorian has told you about +my plan for rechristening everything, Gladys. It is a delightful idea." + +"But I don't want to be rechristened, Harry," rejoined the duchess, +looking up at him with her wonderful eyes. "I am quite satisfied with +my own name, and I am sure Mr. Gray should be satisfied with his." + +"My dear Gladys, I would not alter either name for the world. They are +both perfect. I was thinking chiefly of flowers. Yesterday I cut an +orchid, for my button-hole. It was a marvellous spotted thing, as +effective as the seven deadly sins. In a thoughtless moment I asked +one of the gardeners what it was called. He told me it was a fine +specimen of _Robinsoniana_, or something dreadful of that kind. It is a +sad truth, but we have lost the faculty of giving lovely names to +things. Names are everything. I never quarrel with actions. My one +quarrel is with words. That is the reason I hate vulgar realism in +literature. The man who could call a spade a spade should be compelled +to use one. It is the only thing he is fit for." + +"Then what should we call you, Harry?" she asked. + +"His name is Prince Paradox," said Dorian. + +"I recognize him in a flash," exclaimed the duchess. + +"I won't hear of it," laughed Lord Henry, sinking into a chair. "From +a label there is no escape! I refuse the title." + +"Royalties may not abdicate," fell as a warning from pretty lips. + +"You wish me to defend my throne, then?" + +"Yes." + +"I give the truths of to-morrow." + +"I prefer the mistakes of to-day," she answered. + +"You disarm me, Gladys," he cried, catching the wilfulness of her mood. + +"Of your shield, Harry, not of your spear." + +"I never tilt against beauty," he said, with a wave of his hand. + +"That is your error, Harry, believe me. You value beauty far too much." + +"How can you say that? I admit that I think that it is better to be +beautiful than to be good. But on the other hand, no one is more ready +than I am to acknowledge that it is better to be good than to be ugly." + +"Ugliness is one of the seven deadly sins, then?" cried the duchess. +"What becomes of your simile about the orchid?" + +"Ugliness is one of the seven deadly virtues, Gladys. You, as a good +Tory, must not underrate them. Beer, the Bible, and the seven deadly +virtues have made our England what she is." + +"You don't like your country, then?" she asked. + +"I live in it." + +"That you may censure it the better." + +"Would you have me take the verdict of Europe on it?" he inquired. + +"What do they say of us?" + +"That Tartuffe has emigrated to England and opened a shop." + +"Is that yours, Harry?" + +"I give it to you." + +"I could not use it. It is too true." + +"You need not be afraid. Our countrymen never recognize a description." + +"They are practical." + +"They are more cunning than practical. When they make up their ledger, +they balance stupidity by wealth, and vice by hypocrisy." + +"Still, we have done great things." + +"Great things have been thrust on us, Gladys." + +"We have carried their burden." + +"Only as far as the Stock Exchange." + +She shook her head. "I believe in the race," she cried. + +"It represents the survival of the pushing." + +"It has development." + +"Decay fascinates me more." + +"What of art?" she asked. + +"It is a malady." + +"Love?" + +"An illusion." + +"Religion?" + +"The fashionable substitute for belief." + +"You are a sceptic." + +"Never! Scepticism is the beginning of faith." + +"What are you?" + +"To define is to limit." + +"Give me a clue." + +"Threads snap. You would lose your way in the labyrinth." + +"You bewilder me. Let us talk of some one else." + +"Our host is a delightful topic. Years ago he was christened Prince +Charming." + +"Ah! don't remind me of that," cried Dorian Gray. + +"Our host is rather horrid this evening," answered the duchess, +colouring. "I believe he thinks that Monmouth married me on purely +scientific principles as the best specimen he could find of a modern +butterfly." + +"Well, I hope he won't stick pins into you, Duchess," laughed Dorian. + +"Oh! my maid does that already, Mr. Gray, when she is annoyed with me." + +"And what does she get annoyed with you about, Duchess?" + +"For the most trivial things, Mr. Gray, I assure you. Usually because +I come in at ten minutes to nine and tell her that I must be dressed by +half-past eight." + +"How unreasonable of her! You should give her warning." + +"I daren't, Mr. Gray. Why, she invents hats for me. You remember the +one I wore at Lady Hilstone's garden-party? You don't, but it is nice +of you to pretend that you do. Well, she made it out of nothing. All +good hats are made out of nothing." + +"Like all good reputations, Gladys," interrupted Lord Henry. "Every +effect that one produces gives one an enemy. To be popular one must be +a mediocrity." + +"Not with women," said the duchess, shaking her head; "and women rule +the world. I assure you we can't bear mediocrities. We women, as some +one says, love with our ears, just as you men love with your eyes, if +you ever love at all." + +"It seems to me that we never do anything else," murmured Dorian. + +"Ah! then, you never really love, Mr. Gray," answered the duchess with +mock sadness. + +"My dear Gladys!" cried Lord Henry. "How can you say that? Romance +lives by repetition, and repetition converts an appetite into an art. +Besides, each time that one loves is the only time one has ever loved. +Difference of object does not alter singleness of passion. It merely +intensifies it. We can have in life but one great experience at best, +and the secret of life is to reproduce that experience as often as +possible." + +"Even when one has been wounded by it, Harry?" asked the duchess after +a pause. + +"Especially when one has been wounded by it," answered Lord Henry. + +The duchess turned and looked at Dorian Gray with a curious expression +in her eyes. "What do you say to that, Mr. Gray?" she inquired. + +Dorian hesitated for a moment. Then he threw his head back and +laughed. "I always agree with Harry, Duchess." + +"Even when he is wrong?" + +"Harry is never wrong, Duchess." + +"And does his philosophy make you happy?" + +"I have never searched for happiness. Who wants happiness? I have +searched for pleasure." + +"And found it, Mr. Gray?" + +"Often. Too often." + +The duchess sighed. "I am searching for peace," she said, "and if I +don't go and dress, I shall have none this evening." + +"Let me get you some orchids, Duchess," cried Dorian, starting to his +feet and walking down the conservatory. + +"You are flirting disgracefully with him," said Lord Henry to his +cousin. "You had better take care. He is very fascinating." + +"If he were not, there would be no battle." + +"Greek meets Greek, then?" + +"I am on the side of the Trojans. They fought for a woman." + +"They were defeated." + +"There are worse things than capture," she answered. + +"You gallop with a loose rein." + +"Pace gives life," was the _riposte_. + +"I shall write it in my diary to-night." + +"What?" + +"That a burnt child loves the fire." + +"I am not even singed. My wings are untouched." + +"You use them for everything, except flight." + +"Courage has passed from men to women. It is a new experience for us." + +"You have a rival." + +"Who?" + +He laughed. "Lady Narborough," he whispered. "She perfectly adores +him." + +"You fill me with apprehension. The appeal to antiquity is fatal to us +who are romanticists." + +"Romanticists! You have all the methods of science." + +"Men have educated us." + +"But not explained you." + +"Describe us as a sex," was her challenge. + +"Sphinxes without secrets." + +She looked at him, smiling. "How long Mr. Gray is!" she said. "Let us +go and help him. I have not yet told him the colour of my frock." + +"Ah! you must suit your frock to his flowers, Gladys." + +"That would be a premature surrender." + +"Romantic art begins with its climax." + +"I must keep an opportunity for retreat." + +"In the Parthian manner?" + +"They found safety in the desert. I could not do that." + +"Women are not always allowed a choice," he answered, but hardly had he +finished the sentence before from the far end of the conservatory came +a stifled groan, followed by the dull sound of a heavy fall. Everybody +started up. The duchess stood motionless in horror. And with fear in +his eyes, Lord Henry rushed through the flapping palms to find Dorian +Gray lying face downwards on the tiled floor in a deathlike swoon. + +He was carried at once into the blue drawing-room and laid upon one of +the sofas. After a short time, he came to himself and looked round +with a dazed expression. + +"What has happened?" he asked. "Oh! I remember. Am I safe here, +Harry?" He began to tremble. + +"My dear Dorian," answered Lord Henry, "you merely fainted. That was +all. You must have overtired yourself. You had better not come down +to dinner. I will take your place." + +"No, I will come down," he said, struggling to his feet. "I would +rather come down. I must not be alone." + +He went to his room and dressed. There was a wild recklessness of +gaiety in his manner as he sat at table, but now and then a thrill of +terror ran through him when he remembered that, pressed against the +window of the conservatory, like a white handkerchief, he had seen the +face of James Vane watching him. + + + +CHAPTER 18 + +The next day he did not leave the house, and, indeed, spent most of the +time in his own room, sick with a wild terror of dying, and yet +indifferent to life itself. The consciousness of being hunted, snared, +tracked down, had begun to dominate him. If the tapestry did but +tremble in the wind, he shook. The dead leaves that were blown against +the leaded panes seemed to him like his own wasted resolutions and wild +regrets. When he closed his eyes, he saw again the sailor's face +peering through the mist-stained glass, and horror seemed once more to +lay its hand upon his heart. + +But perhaps it had been only his fancy that had called vengeance out of +the night and set the hideous shapes of punishment before him. Actual +life was chaos, but there was something terribly logical in the +imagination. It was the imagination that set remorse to dog the feet +of sin. It was the imagination that made each crime bear its misshapen +brood. In the common world of fact the wicked were not punished, nor +the good rewarded. Success was given to the strong, failure thrust +upon the weak. That was all. Besides, had any stranger been prowling +round the house, he would have been seen by the servants or the +keepers. Had any foot-marks been found on the flower-beds, the +gardeners would have reported it. Yes, it had been merely fancy. +Sibyl Vane's brother had not come back to kill him. He had sailed away +in his ship to founder in some winter sea. From him, at any rate, he +was safe. Why, the man did not know who he was, could not know who he +was. The mask of youth had saved him. + +And yet if it had been merely an illusion, how terrible it was to think +that conscience could raise such fearful phantoms, and give them +visible form, and make them move before one! What sort of life would +his be if, day and night, shadows of his crime were to peer at him from +silent corners, to mock him from secret places, to whisper in his ear +as he sat at the feast, to wake him with icy fingers as he lay asleep! +As the thought crept through his brain, he grew pale with terror, and +the air seemed to him to have become suddenly colder. Oh! in what a +wild hour of madness he had killed his friend! How ghastly the mere +memory of the scene! He saw it all again. Each hideous detail came +back to him with added horror. Out of the black cave of time, terrible +and swathed in scarlet, rose the image of his sin. When Lord Henry +came in at six o'clock, he found him crying as one whose heart will +break. + +It was not till the third day that he ventured to go out. There was +something in the clear, pine-scented air of that winter morning that +seemed to bring him back his joyousness and his ardour for life. But +it was not merely the physical conditions of environment that had +caused the change. His own nature had revolted against the excess of +anguish that had sought to maim and mar the perfection of its calm. +With subtle and finely wrought temperaments it is always so. Their +strong passions must either bruise or bend. They either slay the man, +or themselves die. Shallow sorrows and shallow loves live on. The +loves and sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plenitude. +Besides, he had convinced himself that he had been the victim of a +terror-stricken imagination, and looked back now on his fears with +something of pity and not a little of contempt. + +After breakfast, he walked with the duchess for an hour in the garden +and then drove across the park to join the shooting-party. The crisp +frost lay like salt upon the grass. The sky was an inverted cup of +blue metal. A thin film of ice bordered the flat, reed-grown lake. + +At the corner of the pine-wood he caught sight of Sir Geoffrey +Clouston, the duchess's brother, jerking two spent cartridges out of +his gun. He jumped from the cart, and having told the groom to take +the mare home, made his way towards his guest through the withered +bracken and rough undergrowth. + +"Have you had good sport, Geoffrey?" he asked. + +"Not very good, Dorian. I think most of the birds have gone to the +open. I dare say it will be better after lunch, when we get to new +ground." + +Dorian strolled along by his side. The keen aromatic air, the brown +and red lights that glimmered in the wood, the hoarse cries of the +beaters ringing out from time to time, and the sharp snaps of the guns +that followed, fascinated him and filled him with a sense of delightful +freedom. He was dominated by the carelessness of happiness, by the +high indifference of joy. + +Suddenly from a lumpy tussock of old grass some twenty yards in front +of them, with black-tipped ears erect and long hinder limbs throwing it +forward, started a hare. It bolted for a thicket of alders. Sir +Geoffrey put his gun to his shoulder, but there was something in the +animal's grace of movement that strangely charmed Dorian Gray, and he +cried out at once, "Don't shoot it, Geoffrey. Let it live." + +"What nonsense, Dorian!" laughed his companion, and as the hare bounded +into the thicket, he fired. There were two cries heard, the cry of a +hare in pain, which is dreadful, the cry of a man in agony, which is +worse. + +"Good heavens! I have hit a beater!" exclaimed Sir Geoffrey. "What an +ass the man was to get in front of the guns! Stop shooting there!" he +called out at the top of his voice. "A man is hurt." + +The head-keeper came running up with a stick in his hand. + +"Where, sir? Where is he?" he shouted. At the same time, the firing +ceased along the line. + +"Here," answered Sir Geoffrey angrily, hurrying towards the thicket. +"Why on earth don't you keep your men back? Spoiled my shooting for +the day." + +Dorian watched them as they plunged into the alder-clump, brushing the +lithe swinging branches aside. In a few moments they emerged, dragging +a body after them into the sunlight. He turned away in horror. It +seemed to him that misfortune followed wherever he went. He heard Sir +Geoffrey ask if the man was really dead, and the affirmative answer of +the keeper. The wood seemed to him to have become suddenly alive with +faces. There was the trampling of myriad feet and the low buzz of +voices. A great copper-breasted pheasant came beating through the +boughs overhead. + +After a few moments--that were to him, in his perturbed state, like +endless hours of pain--he felt a hand laid on his shoulder. He started +and looked round. + +"Dorian," said Lord Henry, "I had better tell them that the shooting is +stopped for to-day. It would not look well to go on." + +"I wish it were stopped for ever, Harry," he answered bitterly. "The +whole thing is hideous and cruel. Is the man ...?" + +He could not finish the sentence. + +"I am afraid so," rejoined Lord Henry. "He got the whole charge of +shot in his chest. He must have died almost instantaneously. Come; +let us go home." + +They walked side by side in the direction of the avenue for nearly +fifty yards without speaking. Then Dorian looked at Lord Henry and +said, with a heavy sigh, "It is a bad omen, Harry, a very bad omen." + +"What is?" asked Lord Henry. "Oh! this accident, I suppose. My dear +fellow, it can't be helped. It was the man's own fault. Why did he +get in front of the guns? Besides, it is nothing to us. It is rather +awkward for Geoffrey, of course. It does not do to pepper beaters. It +makes people think that one is a wild shot. And Geoffrey is not; he +shoots very straight. But there is no use talking about the matter." + +Dorian shook his head. "It is a bad omen, Harry. I feel as if +something horrible were going to happen to some of us. To myself, +perhaps," he added, passing his hand over his eyes, with a gesture of +pain. + +The elder man laughed. "The only horrible thing in the world is _ennui_, +Dorian. That is the one sin for which there is no forgiveness. But we +are not likely to suffer from it unless these fellows keep chattering +about this thing at dinner. I must tell them that the subject is to be +tabooed. As for omens, there is no such thing as an omen. Destiny +does not send us heralds. She is too wise or too cruel for that. +Besides, what on earth could happen to you, Dorian? You have +everything in the world that a man can want. There is no one who would +not be delighted to change places with you." + +"There is no one with whom I would not change places, Harry. Don't +laugh like that. I am telling you the truth. The wretched peasant who +has just died is better off than I am. I have no terror of death. It +is the coming of death that terrifies me. Its monstrous wings seem to +wheel in the leaden air around me. Good heavens! don't you see a man +moving behind the trees there, watching me, waiting for me?" + +Lord Henry looked in the direction in which the trembling gloved hand +was pointing. "Yes," he said, smiling, "I see the gardener waiting for +you. I suppose he wants to ask you what flowers you wish to have on +the table to-night. How absurdly nervous you are, my dear fellow! You +must come and see my doctor, when we get back to town." + +Dorian heaved a sigh of relief as he saw the gardener approaching. The +man touched his hat, glanced for a moment at Lord Henry in a hesitating +manner, and then produced a letter, which he handed to his master. +"Her Grace told me to wait for an answer," he murmured. + +Dorian put the letter into his pocket. "Tell her Grace that I am +coming in," he said, coldly. The man turned round and went rapidly in +the direction of the house. + +"How fond women are of doing dangerous things!" laughed Lord Henry. +"It is one of the qualities in them that I admire most. A woman will +flirt with anybody in the world as long as other people are looking on." + +"How fond you are of saying dangerous things, Harry! In the present +instance, you are quite astray. I like the duchess very much, but I +don't love her." + +"And the duchess loves you very much, but she likes you less, so you +are excellently matched." + +"You are talking scandal, Harry, and there is never any basis for +scandal." + +"The basis of every scandal is an immoral certainty," said Lord Henry, +lighting a cigarette. + +"You would sacrifice anybody, Harry, for the sake of an epigram." + +"The world goes to the altar of its own accord," was the answer. + +"I wish I could love," cried Dorian Gray with a deep note of pathos in +his voice. "But I seem to have lost the passion and forgotten the +desire. I am too much concentrated on myself. My own personality has +become a burden to me. I want to escape, to go away, to forget. It +was silly of me to come down here at all. I think I shall send a wire +to Harvey to have the yacht got ready. On a yacht one is safe." + +"Safe from what, Dorian? You are in some trouble. Why not tell me +what it is? You know I would help you." + +"I can't tell you, Harry," he answered sadly. "And I dare say it is +only a fancy of mine. This unfortunate accident has upset me. I have +a horrible presentiment that something of the kind may happen to me." + +"What nonsense!" + +"I hope it is, but I can't help feeling it. Ah! here is the duchess, +looking like Artemis in a tailor-made gown. You see we have come back, +Duchess." + +"I have heard all about it, Mr. Gray," she answered. "Poor Geoffrey is +terribly upset. And it seems that you asked him not to shoot the hare. +How curious!" + +"Yes, it was very curious. I don't know what made me say it. Some +whim, I suppose. It looked the loveliest of little live things. But I +am sorry they told you about the man. It is a hideous subject." + +"It is an annoying subject," broke in Lord Henry. "It has no +psychological value at all. Now if Geoffrey had done the thing on +purpose, how interesting he would be! I should like to know some one +who had committed a real murder." + +"How horrid of you, Harry!" cried the duchess. "Isn't it, Mr. Gray? +Harry, Mr. Gray is ill again. He is going to faint." + +Dorian drew himself up with an effort and smiled. "It is nothing, +Duchess," he murmured; "my nerves are dreadfully out of order. That is +all. I am afraid I walked too far this morning. I didn't hear what +Harry said. Was it very bad? You must tell me some other time. I +think I must go and lie down. You will excuse me, won't you?" + +They had reached the great flight of steps that led from the +conservatory on to the terrace. As the glass door closed behind +Dorian, Lord Henry turned and looked at the duchess with his slumberous +eyes. "Are you very much in love with him?" he asked. + +She did not answer for some time, but stood gazing at the landscape. +"I wish I knew," she said at last. + +He shook his head. "Knowledge would be fatal. It is the uncertainty +that charms one. A mist makes things wonderful." + +"One may lose one's way." + +"All ways end at the same point, my dear Gladys." + +"What is that?" + +"Disillusion." + +"It was my _debut_ in life," she sighed. + +"It came to you crowned." + +"I am tired of strawberry leaves." + +"They become you." + +"Only in public." + +"You would miss them," said Lord Henry. + +"I will not part with a petal." + +"Monmouth has ears." + +"Old age is dull of hearing." + +"Has he never been jealous?" + +"I wish he had been." + +He glanced about as if in search of something. "What are you looking +for?" she inquired. + +"The button from your foil," he answered. "You have dropped it." + +She laughed. "I have still the mask." + +"It makes your eyes lovelier," was his reply. + +She laughed again. Her teeth showed like white seeds in a scarlet +fruit. + +Upstairs, in his own room, Dorian Gray was lying on a sofa, with terror +in every tingling fibre of his body. Life had suddenly become too +hideous a burden for him to bear. The dreadful death of the unlucky +beater, shot in the thicket like a wild animal, had seemed to him to +pre-figure death for himself also. He had nearly swooned at what Lord +Henry had said in a chance mood of cynical jesting. + +At five o'clock he rang his bell for his servant and gave him orders to +pack his things for the night-express to town, and to have the brougham +at the door by eight-thirty. He was determined not to sleep another +night at Selby Royal. It was an ill-omened place. Death walked there +in the sunlight. The grass of the forest had been spotted with blood. + +Then he wrote a note to Lord Henry, telling him that he was going up to +town to consult his doctor and asking him to entertain his guests in +his absence. As he was putting it into the envelope, a knock came to +the door, and his valet informed him that the head-keeper wished to see +him. He frowned and bit his lip. "Send him in," he muttered, after +some moments' hesitation. + +As soon as the man entered, Dorian pulled his chequebook out of a +drawer and spread it out before him. + +"I suppose you have come about the unfortunate accident of this +morning, Thornton?" he said, taking up a pen. + +"Yes, sir," answered the gamekeeper. + +"Was the poor fellow married? Had he any people dependent on him?" +asked Dorian, looking bored. "If so, I should not like them to be left +in want, and will send them any sum of money you may think necessary." + +"We don't know who he is, sir. That is what I took the liberty of +coming to you about." + +"Don't know who he is?" said Dorian, listlessly. "What do you mean? +Wasn't he one of your men?" + +"No, sir. Never saw him before. Seems like a sailor, sir." + +The pen dropped from Dorian Gray's hand, and he felt as if his heart +had suddenly stopped beating. "A sailor?" he cried out. "Did you say +a sailor?" + +"Yes, sir. He looks as if he had been a sort of sailor; tattooed on +both arms, and that kind of thing." + +"Was there anything found on him?" said Dorian, leaning forward and +looking at the man with startled eyes. "Anything that would tell his +name?" + +"Some money, sir--not much, and a six-shooter. There was no name of any +kind. A decent-looking man, sir, but rough-like. A sort of sailor we +think." + +Dorian started to his feet. A terrible hope fluttered past him. He +clutched at it madly. "Where is the body?" he exclaimed. "Quick! I +must see it at once." + +"It is in an empty stable in the Home Farm, sir. The folk don't like +to have that sort of thing in their houses. They say a corpse brings +bad luck." + +"The Home Farm! Go there at once and meet me. Tell one of the grooms +to bring my horse round. No. Never mind. I'll go to the stables +myself. It will save time." + +In less than a quarter of an hour, Dorian Gray was galloping down the +long avenue as hard as he could go. The trees seemed to sweep past him +in spectral procession, and wild shadows to fling themselves across his +path. Once the mare swerved at a white gate-post and nearly threw him. +He lashed her across the neck with his crop. She cleft the dusky air +like an arrow. The stones flew from her hoofs. + +At last he reached the Home Farm. Two men were loitering in the yard. +He leaped from the saddle and threw the reins to one of them. In the +farthest stable a light was glimmering. Something seemed to tell him +that the body was there, and he hurried to the door and put his hand +upon the latch. + +There he paused for a moment, feeling that he was on the brink of a +discovery that would either make or mar his life. Then he thrust the +door open and entered. + +On a heap of sacking in the far corner was lying the dead body of a man +dressed in a coarse shirt and a pair of blue trousers. A spotted +handkerchief had been placed over the face. A coarse candle, stuck in +a bottle, sputtered beside it. + +Dorian Gray shuddered. He felt that his could not be the hand to take +the handkerchief away, and called out to one of the farm-servants to +come to him. + +"Take that thing off the face. I wish to see it," he said, clutching +at the door-post for support. + +When the farm-servant had done so, he stepped forward. A cry of joy +broke from his lips. The man who had been shot in the thicket was +James Vane. + +He stood there for some minutes looking at the dead body. As he rode +home, his eyes were full of tears, for he knew he was safe. + + + +CHAPTER 19 + +"There is no use your telling me that you are going to be good," cried +Lord Henry, dipping his white fingers into a red copper bowl filled +with rose-water. "You are quite perfect. Pray, don't change." + +Dorian Gray shook his head. "No, Harry, I have done too many dreadful +things in my life. I am not going to do any more. I began my good +actions yesterday." + +"Where were you yesterday?" + +"In the country, Harry. I was staying at a little inn by myself." + +"My dear boy," said Lord Henry, smiling, "anybody can be good in the +country. There are no temptations there. That is the reason why +people who live out of town are so absolutely uncivilized. +Civilization is not by any means an easy thing to attain to. There are +only two ways by which man can reach it. One is by being cultured, the +other by being corrupt. Country people have no opportunity of being +either, so they stagnate." + +"Culture and corruption," echoed Dorian. "I have known something of +both. It seems terrible to me now that they should ever be found +together. For I have a new ideal, Harry. I am going to alter. I +think I have altered." + +"You have not yet told me what your good action was. Or did you say +you had done more than one?" asked his companion as he spilled into his +plate a little crimson pyramid of seeded strawberries and, through a +perforated, shell-shaped spoon, snowed white sugar upon them. + +"I can tell you, Harry. It is not a story I could tell to any one +else. I spared somebody. It sounds vain, but you understand what I +mean. She was quite beautiful and wonderfully like Sibyl Vane. I +think it was that which first attracted me to her. You remember Sibyl, +don't you? How long ago that seems! Well, Hetty was not one of our +own class, of course. She was simply a girl in a village. But I +really loved her. I am quite sure that I loved her. All during this +wonderful May that we have been having, I used to run down and see her +two or three times a week. Yesterday she met me in a little orchard. +The apple-blossoms kept tumbling down on her hair, and she was +laughing. We were to have gone away together this morning at dawn. +Suddenly I determined to leave her as flowerlike as I had found her." + +"I should think the novelty of the emotion must have given you a thrill +of real pleasure, Dorian," interrupted Lord Henry. "But I can finish +your idyll for you. You gave her good advice and broke her heart. +That was the beginning of your reformation." + +"Harry, you are horrible! You mustn't say these dreadful things. +Hetty's heart is not broken. Of course, she cried and all that. But +there is no disgrace upon her. She can live, like Perdita, in her +garden of mint and marigold." + +"And weep over a faithless Florizel," said Lord Henry, laughing, as he +leaned back in his chair. "My dear Dorian, you have the most curiously +boyish moods. Do you think this girl will ever be really content now +with any one of her own rank? I suppose she will be married some day +to a rough carter or a grinning ploughman. Well, the fact of having +met you, and loved you, will teach her to despise her husband, and she +will be wretched. From a moral point of view, I cannot say that I +think much of your great renunciation. Even as a beginning, it is +poor. Besides, how do you know that Hetty isn't floating at the +present moment in some starlit mill-pond, with lovely water-lilies +round her, like Ophelia?" + +"I can't bear this, Harry! You mock at everything, and then suggest +the most serious tragedies. I am sorry I told you now. I don't care +what you say to me. I know I was right in acting as I did. Poor +Hetty! As I rode past the farm this morning, I saw her white face at +the window, like a spray of jasmine. Don't let us talk about it any +more, and don't try to persuade me that the first good action I have +done for years, the first little bit of self-sacrifice I have ever +known, is really a sort of sin. I want to be better. I am going to be +better. Tell me something about yourself. What is going on in town? +I have not been to the club for days." + +"The people are still discussing poor Basil's disappearance." + +"I should have thought they had got tired of that by this time," said +Dorian, pouring himself out some wine and frowning slightly. + +"My dear boy, they have only been talking about it for six weeks, and +the British public are really not equal to the mental strain of having +more than one topic every three months. They have been very fortunate +lately, however. They have had my own divorce-case and Alan Campbell's +suicide. Now they have got the mysterious disappearance of an artist. +Scotland Yard still insists that the man in the grey ulster who left +for Paris by the midnight train on the ninth of November was poor +Basil, and the French police declare that Basil never arrived in Paris +at all. I suppose in about a fortnight we shall be told that he has +been seen in San Francisco. It is an odd thing, but every one who +disappears is said to be seen at San Francisco. It must be a +delightful city, and possess all the attractions of the next world." + +"What do you think has happened to Basil?" asked Dorian, holding up his +Burgundy against the light and wondering how it was that he could +discuss the matter so calmly. + +"I have not the slightest idea. If Basil chooses to hide himself, it +is no business of mine. If he is dead, I don't want to think about +him. Death is the only thing that ever terrifies me. I hate it." + +"Why?" said the younger man wearily. + +"Because," said Lord Henry, passing beneath his nostrils the gilt +trellis of an open vinaigrette box, "one can survive everything +nowadays except that. Death and vulgarity are the only two facts in +the nineteenth century that one cannot explain away. Let us have our +coffee in the music-room, Dorian. You must play Chopin to me. The man +with whom my wife ran away played Chopin exquisitely. Poor Victoria! +I was very fond of her. The house is rather lonely without her. Of +course, married life is merely a habit, a bad habit. But then one +regrets the loss even of one's worst habits. Perhaps one regrets them +the most. They are such an essential part of one's personality." + +Dorian said nothing, but rose from the table, and passing into the next +room, sat down to the piano and let his fingers stray across the white +and black ivory of the keys. After the coffee had been brought in, he +stopped, and looking over at Lord Henry, said, "Harry, did it ever +occur to you that Basil was murdered?" + +Lord Henry yawned. "Basil was very popular, and always wore a +Waterbury watch. Why should he have been murdered? He was not clever +enough to have enemies. Of course, he had a wonderful genius for +painting. But a man can paint like Velasquez and yet be as dull as +possible. Basil was really rather dull. He only interested me once, +and that was when he told me, years ago, that he had a wild adoration +for you and that you were the dominant motive of his art." + +"I was very fond of Basil," said Dorian with a note of sadness in his +voice. "But don't people say that he was murdered?" + +"Oh, some of the papers do. It does not seem to me to be at all +probable. I know there are dreadful places in Paris, but Basil was not +the sort of man to have gone to them. He had no curiosity. It was his +chief defect." + +"What would you say, Harry, if I told you that I had murdered Basil?" +said the younger man. He watched him intently after he had spoken. + +"I would say, my dear fellow, that you were posing for a character that +doesn't suit you. All crime is vulgar, just as all vulgarity is crime. +It is not in you, Dorian, to commit a murder. I am sorry if I hurt +your vanity by saying so, but I assure you it is true. Crime belongs +exclusively to the lower orders. I don't blame them in the smallest +degree. I should fancy that crime was to them what art is to us, +simply a method of procuring extraordinary sensations." + +"A method of procuring sensations? Do you think, then, that a man who +has once committed a murder could possibly do the same crime again? +Don't tell me that." + +"Oh! anything becomes a pleasure if one does it too often," cried Lord +Henry, laughing. "That is one of the most important secrets of life. +I should fancy, however, that murder is always a mistake. One should +never do anything that one cannot talk about after dinner. But let us +pass from poor Basil. I wish I could believe that he had come to such +a really romantic end as you suggest, but I can't. I dare say he fell +into the Seine off an omnibus and that the conductor hushed up the +scandal. Yes: I should fancy that was his end. I see him lying now +on his back under those dull-green waters, with the heavy barges +floating over him and long weeds catching in his hair. Do you know, I +don't think he would have done much more good work. During the last +ten years his painting had gone off very much." + +Dorian heaved a sigh, and Lord Henry strolled across the room and began +to stroke the head of a curious Java parrot, a large, grey-plumaged +bird with pink crest and tail, that was balancing itself upon a bamboo +perch. As his pointed fingers touched it, it dropped the white scurf +of crinkled lids over black, glasslike eyes and began to sway backwards +and forwards. + +"Yes," he continued, turning round and taking his handkerchief out of +his pocket; "his painting had quite gone off. It seemed to me to have +lost something. It had lost an ideal. When you and he ceased to be +great friends, he ceased to be a great artist. What was it separated +you? I suppose he bored you. If so, he never forgave you. It's a +habit bores have. By the way, what has become of that wonderful +portrait he did of you? I don't think I have ever seen it since he +finished it. Oh! I remember your telling me years ago that you had +sent it down to Selby, and that it had got mislaid or stolen on the +way. You never got it back? What a pity! it was really a +masterpiece. I remember I wanted to buy it. I wish I had now. It +belonged to Basil's best period. Since then, his work was that curious +mixture of bad painting and good intentions that always entitles a man +to be called a representative British artist. Did you advertise for +it? You should." + +"I forget," said Dorian. "I suppose I did. But I never really liked +it. I am sorry I sat for it. The memory of the thing is hateful to +me. Why do you talk of it? It used to remind me of those curious +lines in some play--Hamlet, I think--how do they run?-- + + "Like the painting of a sorrow, + A face without a heart." + +Yes: that is what it was like." + +Lord Henry laughed. "If a man treats life artistically, his brain is +his heart," he answered, sinking into an arm-chair. + +Dorian Gray shook his head and struck some soft chords on the piano. +"'Like the painting of a sorrow,'" he repeated, "'a face without a +heart.'" + +The elder man lay back and looked at him with half-closed eyes. "By +the way, Dorian," he said after a pause, "'what does it profit a man if +he gain the whole world and lose--how does the quotation run?--his own +soul'?" + +The music jarred, and Dorian Gray started and stared at his friend. +"Why do you ask me that, Harry?" + +"My dear fellow," said Lord Henry, elevating his eyebrows in surprise, +"I asked you because I thought you might be able to give me an answer. +That is all. I was going through the park last Sunday, and close by +the Marble Arch there stood a little crowd of shabby-looking people +listening to some vulgar street-preacher. As I passed by, I heard the +man yelling out that question to his audience. It struck me as being +rather dramatic. London is very rich in curious effects of that kind. +A wet Sunday, an uncouth Christian in a mackintosh, a ring of sickly +white faces under a broken roof of dripping umbrellas, and a wonderful +phrase flung into the air by shrill hysterical lips--it was really very +good in its way, quite a suggestion. I thought of telling the prophet +that art had a soul, but that man had not. I am afraid, however, he +would not have understood me." + +"Don't, Harry. The soul is a terrible reality. It can be bought, and +sold, and bartered away. It can be poisoned, or made perfect. There +is a soul in each one of us. I know it." + +"Do you feel quite sure of that, Dorian?" + +"Quite sure." + +"Ah! then it must be an illusion. The things one feels absolutely +certain about are never true. That is the fatality of faith, and the +lesson of romance. How grave you are! Don't be so serious. What have +you or I to do with the superstitions of our age? No: we have given +up our belief in the soul. Play me something. Play me a nocturne, +Dorian, and, as you play, tell me, in a low voice, how you have kept +your youth. You must have some secret. I am only ten years older than +you are, and I am wrinkled, and worn, and yellow. You are really +wonderful, Dorian. You have never looked more charming than you do +to-night. You remind me of the day I saw you first. You were rather +cheeky, very shy, and absolutely extraordinary. You have changed, of +course, but not in appearance. I wish you would tell me your secret. +To get back my youth I would do anything in the world, except take +exercise, get up early, or be respectable. Youth! There is nothing +like it. It's absurd to talk of the ignorance of youth. The only +people to whose opinions I listen now with any respect are people much +younger than myself. They seem in front of me. Life has revealed to +them her latest wonder. As for the aged, I always contradict the aged. +I do it on principle. If you ask them their opinion on something that +happened yesterday, they solemnly give you the opinions current in +1820, when people wore high stocks, believed in everything, and knew +absolutely nothing. How lovely that thing you are playing is! I +wonder, did Chopin write it at Majorca, with the sea weeping round the +villa and the salt spray dashing against the panes? It is marvellously +romantic. What a blessing it is that there is one art left to us that +is not imitative! Don't stop. I want music to-night. It seems to me +that you are the young Apollo and that I am Marsyas listening to you. +I have sorrows, Dorian, of my own, that even you know nothing of. The +tragedy of old age is not that one is old, but that one is young. I am +amazed sometimes at my own sincerity. Ah, Dorian, how happy you are! +What an exquisite life you have had! You have drunk deeply of +everything. You have crushed the grapes against your palate. Nothing +has been hidden from you. And it has all been to you no more than the +sound of music. It has not marred you. You are still the same." + +"I am not the same, Harry." + +"Yes, you are the same. I wonder what the rest of your life will be. +Don't spoil it by renunciations. At present you are a perfect type. +Don't make yourself incomplete. You are quite flawless now. You need +not shake your head: you know you are. Besides, Dorian, don't deceive +yourself. Life is not governed by will or intention. Life is a +question of nerves, and fibres, and slowly built-up cells in which +thought hides itself and passion has its dreams. You may fancy +yourself safe and think yourself strong. But a chance tone of colour +in a room or a morning sky, a particular perfume that you had once +loved and that brings subtle memories with it, a line from a forgotten +poem that you had come across again, a cadence from a piece of music +that you had ceased to play--I tell you, Dorian, that it is on things +like these that our lives depend. Browning writes about that +somewhere; but our own senses will imagine them for us. There are +moments when the odour of _lilas blanc_ passes suddenly across me, and I +have to live the strangest month of my life over again. I wish I could +change places with you, Dorian. The world has cried out against us +both, but it has always worshipped you. It always will worship you. +You are the type of what the age is searching for, and what it is +afraid it has found. I am so glad that you have never done anything, +never carved a statue, or painted a picture, or produced anything +outside of yourself! Life has been your art. You have set yourself to +music. Your days are your sonnets." + +Dorian rose up from the piano and passed his hand through his hair. +"Yes, life has been exquisite," he murmured, "but I am not going to +have the same life, Harry. And you must not say these extravagant +things to me. You don't know everything about me. I think that if you +did, even you would turn from me. You laugh. Don't laugh." + +"Why have you stopped playing, Dorian? Go back and give me the +nocturne over again. Look at that great, honey-coloured moon that +hangs in the dusky air. She is waiting for you to charm her, and if +you play she will come closer to the earth. You won't? Let us go to +the club, then. It has been a charming evening, and we must end it +charmingly. There is some one at White's who wants immensely to know +you--young Lord Poole, Bournemouth's eldest son. He has already copied +your neckties, and has begged me to introduce him to you. He is quite +delightful and rather reminds me of you." + +"I hope not," said Dorian with a sad look in his eyes. "But I am tired +to-night, Harry. I shan't go to the club. It is nearly eleven, and I +want to go to bed early." + +"Do stay. You have never played so well as to-night. There was +something in your touch that was wonderful. It had more expression +than I had ever heard from it before." + +"It is because I am going to be good," he answered, smiling. "I am a +little changed already." + +"You cannot change to me, Dorian," said Lord Henry. "You and I will +always be friends." + +"Yet you poisoned me with a book once. I should not forgive that. +Harry, promise me that you will never lend that book to any one. It +does harm." + +"My dear boy, you are really beginning to moralize. You will soon be +going about like the converted, and the revivalist, warning people +against all the sins of which you have grown tired. You are much too +delightful to do that. Besides, it is no use. You and I are what we +are, and will be what we will be. As for being poisoned by a book, +there is no such thing as that. Art has no influence upon action. It +annihilates the desire to act. It is superbly sterile. The books that +the world calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame. +That is all. But we won't discuss literature. Come round to-morrow. I +am going to ride at eleven. We might go together, and I will take you +to lunch afterwards with Lady Branksome. She is a charming woman, and +wants to consult you about some tapestries she is thinking of buying. +Mind you come. Or shall we lunch with our little duchess? She says +she never sees you now. Perhaps you are tired of Gladys? I thought +you would be. Her clever tongue gets on one's nerves. Well, in any +case, be here at eleven." + +"Must I really come, Harry?" + +"Certainly. The park is quite lovely now. I don't think there have +been such lilacs since the year I met you." + +"Very well. I shall be here at eleven," said Dorian. "Good night, +Harry." As he reached the door, he hesitated for a moment, as if he +had something more to say. Then he sighed and went out. + + + +CHAPTER 20 + +It was a lovely night, so warm that he threw his coat over his arm and +did not even put his silk scarf round his throat. As he strolled home, +smoking his cigarette, two young men in evening dress passed him. He +heard one of them whisper to the other, "That is Dorian Gray." He +remembered how pleased he used to be when he was pointed out, or stared +at, or talked about. He was tired of hearing his own name now. Half +the charm of the little village where he had been so often lately was +that no one knew who he was. He had often told the girl whom he had +lured to love him that he was poor, and she had believed him. He had +told her once that he was wicked, and she had laughed at him and +answered that wicked people were always very old and very ugly. What a +laugh she had!--just like a thrush singing. And how pretty she had +been in her cotton dresses and her large hats! She knew nothing, but +she had everything that he had lost. + +When he reached home, he found his servant waiting up for him. He sent +him to bed, and threw himself down on the sofa in the library, and +began to think over some of the things that Lord Henry had said to him. + +Was it really true that one could never change? He felt a wild longing +for the unstained purity of his boyhood--his rose-white boyhood, as +Lord Henry had once called it. He knew that he had tarnished himself, +filled his mind with corruption and given horror to his fancy; that he +had been an evil influence to others, and had experienced a terrible +joy in being so; and that of the lives that had crossed his own, it had +been the fairest and the most full of promise that he had brought to +shame. But was it all irretrievable? Was there no hope for him? + +Ah! in what a monstrous moment of pride and passion he had prayed that +the portrait should bear the burden of his days, and he keep the +unsullied splendour of eternal youth! All his failure had been due to +that. Better for him that each sin of his life had brought its sure +swift penalty along with it. There was purification in punishment. +Not "Forgive us our sins" but "Smite us for our iniquities" should be +the prayer of man to a most just God. + +The curiously carved mirror that Lord Henry had given to him, so many +years ago now, was standing on the table, and the white-limbed Cupids +laughed round it as of old. He took it up, as he had done on that +night of horror when he had first noted the change in the fatal +picture, and with wild, tear-dimmed eyes looked into its polished +shield. Once, some one who had terribly loved him had written to him a +mad letter, ending with these idolatrous words: "The world is changed +because you are made of ivory and gold. The curves of your lips +rewrite history." The phrases came back to his memory, and he repeated +them over and over to himself. Then he loathed his own beauty, and +flinging the mirror on the floor, crushed it into silver splinters +beneath his heel. It was his beauty that had ruined him, his beauty +and the youth that he had prayed for. But for those two things, his +life might have been free from stain. His beauty had been to him but a +mask, his youth but a mockery. What was youth at best? A green, an +unripe time, a time of shallow moods, and sickly thoughts. Why had he +worn its livery? Youth had spoiled him. + +It was better not to think of the past. Nothing could alter that. It +was of himself, and of his own future, that he had to think. James +Vane was hidden in a nameless grave in Selby churchyard. Alan Campbell +had shot himself one night in his laboratory, but had not revealed the +secret that he had been forced to know. The excitement, such as it +was, over Basil Hallward's disappearance would soon pass away. It was +already waning. He was perfectly safe there. Nor, indeed, was it the +death of Basil Hallward that weighed most upon his mind. It was the +living death of his own soul that troubled him. Basil had painted the +portrait that had marred his life. He could not forgive him that. It +was the portrait that had done everything. Basil had said things to +him that were unbearable, and that he had yet borne with patience. The +murder had been simply the madness of a moment. As for Alan Campbell, +his suicide had been his own act. He had chosen to do it. It was +nothing to him. + +A new life! That was what he wanted. That was what he was waiting +for. Surely he had begun it already. He had spared one innocent +thing, at any rate. He would never again tempt innocence. He would be +good. + +As he thought of Hetty Merton, he began to wonder if the portrait in +the locked room had changed. Surely it was not still so horrible as it +had been? Perhaps if his life became pure, he would be able to expel +every sign of evil passion from the face. Perhaps the signs of evil +had already gone away. He would go and look. + +He took the lamp from the table and crept upstairs. As he unbarred the +door, a smile of joy flitted across his strangely young-looking face +and lingered for a moment about his lips. Yes, he would be good, and +the hideous thing that he had hidden away would no longer be a terror +to him. He felt as if the load had been lifted from him already. + +He went in quietly, locking the door behind him, as was his custom, and +dragged the purple hanging from the portrait. A cry of pain and +indignation broke from him. He could see no change, save that in the +eyes there was a look of cunning and in the mouth the curved wrinkle of +the hypocrite. The thing was still loathsome--more loathsome, if +possible, than before--and the scarlet dew that spotted the hand seemed +brighter, and more like blood newly spilled. Then he trembled. Had it +been merely vanity that had made him do his one good deed? Or the +desire for a new sensation, as Lord Henry had hinted, with his mocking +laugh? Or that passion to act a part that sometimes makes us do things +finer than we are ourselves? Or, perhaps, all these? And why was the +red stain larger than it had been? It seemed to have crept like a +horrible disease over the wrinkled fingers. There was blood on the +painted feet, as though the thing had dripped--blood even on the hand +that had not held the knife. Confess? Did it mean that he was to +confess? To give himself up and be put to death? He laughed. He felt +that the idea was monstrous. Besides, even if he did confess, who +would believe him? There was no trace of the murdered man anywhere. +Everything belonging to him had been destroyed. He himself had burned +what had been below-stairs. The world would simply say that he was mad. +They would shut him up if he persisted in his story.... Yet it was +his duty to confess, to suffer public shame, and to make public +atonement. There was a God who called upon men to tell their sins to +earth as well as to heaven. Nothing that he could do would cleanse him +till he had told his own sin. His sin? He shrugged his shoulders. +The death of Basil Hallward seemed very little to him. He was thinking +of Hetty Merton. For it was an unjust mirror, this mirror of his soul +that he was looking at. Vanity? Curiosity? Hypocrisy? Had there +been nothing more in his renunciation than that? There had been +something more. At least he thought so. But who could tell? ... No. +There had been nothing more. Through vanity he had spared her. In +hypocrisy he had worn the mask of goodness. For curiosity's sake he +had tried the denial of self. He recognized that now. + +But this murder--was it to dog him all his life? Was he always to be +burdened by his past? Was he really to confess? Never. There was +only one bit of evidence left against him. The picture itself--that +was evidence. He would destroy it. Why had he kept it so long? Once +it had given him pleasure to watch it changing and growing old. Of +late he had felt no such pleasure. It had kept him awake at night. +When he had been away, he had been filled with terror lest other eyes +should look upon it. It had brought melancholy across his passions. +Its mere memory had marred many moments of joy. It had been like +conscience to him. Yes, it had been conscience. He would destroy it. + +He looked round and saw the knife that had stabbed Basil Hallward. He +had cleaned it many times, till there was no stain left upon it. It +was bright, and glistened. As it had killed the painter, so it would +kill the painter's work, and all that that meant. It would kill the +past, and when that was dead, he would be free. It would kill this +monstrous soul-life, and without its hideous warnings, he would be at +peace. He seized the thing, and stabbed the picture with it. + +There was a cry heard, and a crash. The cry was so horrible in its +agony that the frightened servants woke and crept out of their rooms. +Two gentlemen, who were passing in the square below, stopped and looked +up at the great house. They walked on till they met a policeman and +brought him back. The man rang the bell several times, but there was +no answer. Except for a light in one of the top windows, the house was +all dark. After a time, he went away and stood in an adjoining portico +and watched. + +"Whose house is that, Constable?" asked the elder of the two gentlemen. + +"Mr. Dorian Gray's, sir," answered the policeman. + +They looked at each other, as they walked away, and sneered. One of +them was Sir Henry Ashton's uncle. + +Inside, in the servants' part of the house, the half-clad domestics +were talking in low whispers to each other. Old Mrs. Leaf was crying +and wringing her hands. Francis was as pale as death. + +After about a quarter of an hour, he got the coachman and one of the +footmen and crept upstairs. They knocked, but there was no reply. +They called out. Everything was still. Finally, after vainly trying +to force the door, they got on the roof and dropped down on to the +balcony. The windows yielded easily--their bolts were old. + +When they entered, they found hanging upon the wall a splendid portrait +of their master as they had last seen him, in all the wonder of his +exquisite youth and beauty. Lying on the floor was a dead man, in +evening dress, with a knife in his heart. He was withered, wrinkled, +and loathsome of visage. It was not till they had examined the rings +that they recognized who it was. + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY *** + +***** This file should be named 174.txt or 174.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/174/ + +Produced by Judith Boss. HTML version by Al Haines. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.net + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/src/main/pg-frankenstein.txt b/src/main/pg-frankenstein.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6f5f2c9 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/main/pg-frankenstein.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7653 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Frankenstein, by Mary Wollstonecraft (Godwin) Shelley + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net + + +Title: Frankenstein + or The Modern Prometheus + +Author: Mary Wollstonecraft (Godwin) Shelley + +Release Date: June 17, 2008 [EBook #84] + +Language: English + + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRANKENSTEIN *** + + + + +Produced by Judith Boss, Christy Phillips, Lynn Hanninen, +and David Meltzer. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + + + + + +Frankenstein, + +or the Modern Prometheus + + +by + +Mary Wollstonecraft (Godwin) Shelley + + + + +Letter 1 + + +St. Petersburgh, Dec. 11th, 17-- + +TO Mrs. Saville, England + +You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the +commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil +forebodings. I arrived here yesterday, and my first task is to assure +my dear sister of my welfare and increasing confidence in the success +of my undertaking. + +I am already far north of London, and as I walk in the streets of +Petersburgh, I feel a cold northern breeze play upon my cheeks, which +braces my nerves and fills me with delight. Do you understand this +feeling? This breeze, which has travelled from the regions towards +which I am advancing, gives me a foretaste of those icy climes. +Inspirited by this wind of promise, my daydreams become more fervent +and vivid. I try in vain to be persuaded that the pole is the seat of +frost and desolation; it ever presents itself to my imagination as the +region of beauty and delight. There, Margaret, the sun is forever +visible, its broad disk just skirting the horizon and diffusing a +perpetual splendour. There--for with your leave, my sister, I will put +some trust in preceding navigators--there snow and frost are banished; +and, sailing over a calm sea, we may be wafted to a land surpassing in +wonders and in beauty every region hitherto discovered on the habitable +globe. Its productions and features may be without example, as the +phenomena of the heavenly bodies undoubtedly are in those undiscovered +solitudes. What may not be expected in a country of eternal light? I +may there discover the wondrous power which attracts the needle and may +regulate a thousand celestial observations that require only this +voyage to render their seeming eccentricities consistent forever. I +shall satiate my ardent curiosity with the sight of a part of the world +never before visited, and may tread a land never before imprinted by +the foot of man. These are my enticements, and they are sufficient to +conquer all fear of danger or death and to induce me to commence this +laborious voyage with the joy a child feels when he embarks in a little +boat, with his holiday mates, on an expedition of discovery up his +native river. But supposing all these conjectures to be false, you +cannot contest the inestimable benefit which I shall confer on all +mankind, to the last generation, by discovering a passage near the pole +to those countries, to reach which at present so many months are +requisite; or by ascertaining the secret of the magnet, which, if at +all possible, can only be effected by an undertaking such as mine. + +These reflections have dispelled the agitation with which I began my +letter, and I feel my heart glow with an enthusiasm which elevates me +to heaven, for nothing contributes so much to tranquillize the mind as +a steady purpose--a point on which the soul may fix its intellectual +eye. This expedition has been the favourite dream of my early years. I +have read with ardour the accounts of the various voyages which have +been made in the prospect of arriving at the North Pacific Ocean +through the seas which surround the pole. You may remember that a +history of all the voyages made for purposes of discovery composed the +whole of our good Uncle Thomas' library. My education was neglected, +yet I was passionately fond of reading. These volumes were my study +day and night, and my familiarity with them increased that regret which +I had felt, as a child, on learning that my father's dying injunction +had forbidden my uncle to allow me to embark in a seafaring life. + +These visions faded when I perused, for the first time, those poets +whose effusions entranced my soul and lifted it to heaven. I also +became a poet and for one year lived in a paradise of my own creation; +I imagined that I also might obtain a niche in the temple where the +names of Homer and Shakespeare are consecrated. You are well +acquainted with my failure and how heavily I bore the disappointment. +But just at that time I inherited the fortune of my cousin, and my +thoughts were turned into the channel of their earlier bent. + +Six years have passed since I resolved on my present undertaking. I +can, even now, remember the hour from which I dedicated myself to this +great enterprise. I commenced by inuring my body to hardship. I +accompanied the whale-fishers on several expeditions to the North Sea; +I voluntarily endured cold, famine, thirst, and want of sleep; I often +worked harder than the common sailors during the day and devoted my +nights to the study of mathematics, the theory of medicine, and those +branches of physical science from which a naval adventurer might derive +the greatest practical advantage. Twice I actually hired myself as an +under-mate in a Greenland whaler, and acquitted myself to admiration. I +must own I felt a little proud when my captain offered me the second +dignity in the vessel and entreated me to remain with the greatest +earnestness, so valuable did he consider my services. And now, dear +Margaret, do I not deserve to accomplish some great purpose? My life +might have been passed in ease and luxury, but I preferred glory to +every enticement that wealth placed in my path. Oh, that some +encouraging voice would answer in the affirmative! My courage and my +resolution is firm; but my hopes fluctuate, and my spirits are often +depressed. I am about to proceed on a long and difficult voyage, the +emergencies of which will demand all my fortitude: I am required not +only to raise the spirits of others, but sometimes to sustain my own, +when theirs are failing. + +This is the most favourable period for travelling in Russia. They fly +quickly over the snow in their sledges; the motion is pleasant, and, in +my opinion, far more agreeable than that of an English stagecoach. The +cold is not excessive, if you are wrapped in furs--a dress which I have +already adopted, for there is a great difference between walking the +deck and remaining seated motionless for hours, when no exercise +prevents the blood from actually freezing in your veins. I have no +ambition to lose my life on the post-road between St. Petersburgh and +Archangel. I shall depart for the latter town in a fortnight or three +weeks; and my intention is to hire a ship there, which can easily be +done by paying the insurance for the owner, and to engage as many +sailors as I think necessary among those who are accustomed to the +whale-fishing. I do not intend to sail until the month of June; and +when shall I return? Ah, dear sister, how can I answer this question? +If I succeed, many, many months, perhaps years, will pass before you +and I may meet. If I fail, you will see me again soon, or never. +Farewell, my dear, excellent Margaret. Heaven shower down blessings on +you, and save me, that I may again and again testify my gratitude for +all your love and kindness. + +Your affectionate brother, + R. Walton + + + +Letter 2 + + +Archangel, 28th March, 17-- + +To Mrs. Saville, England + +How slowly the time passes here, encompassed as I am by frost and snow! +Yet a second step is taken towards my enterprise. I have hired a +vessel and am occupied in collecting my sailors; those whom I have +already engaged appear to be men on whom I can depend and are certainly +possessed of dauntless courage. + +But I have one want which I have never yet been able to satisfy, and +the absence of the object of which I now feel as a most severe evil, I +have no friend, Margaret: when I am glowing with the enthusiasm of +success, there will be none to participate my joy; if I am assailed by +disappointment, no one will endeavour to sustain me in dejection. I +shall commit my thoughts to paper, it is true; but that is a poor +medium for the communication of feeling. I desire the company of a man +who could sympathize with me, whose eyes would reply to mine. You may +deem me romantic, my dear sister, but I bitterly feel the want of a +friend. I have no one near me, gentle yet courageous, possessed of a +cultivated as well as of a capacious mind, whose tastes are like my +own, to approve or amend my plans. How would such a friend repair the +faults of your poor brother! I am too ardent in execution and too +impatient of difficulties. But it is a still greater evil to me that I +am self-educated: for the first fourteen years of my life I ran wild +on a common and read nothing but our Uncle Thomas' books of voyages. At +that age I became acquainted with the celebrated poets of our own +country; but it was only when it had ceased to be in my power to derive +its most important benefits from such a conviction that I perceived the +necessity of becoming acquainted with more languages than that of my +native country. Now I am twenty-eight and am in reality more +illiterate than many schoolboys of fifteen. It is true that I have +thought more and that my daydreams are more extended and magnificent, +but they want (as the painters call it) KEEPING; and I greatly need a +friend who would have sense enough not to despise me as romantic, and +affection enough for me to endeavour to regulate my mind. Well, these +are useless complaints; I shall certainly find no friend on the wide +ocean, nor even here in Archangel, among merchants and seamen. Yet +some feelings, unallied to the dross of human nature, beat even in +these rugged bosoms. My lieutenant, for instance, is a man of +wonderful courage and enterprise; he is madly desirous of glory, or +rather, to word my phrase more characteristically, of advancement in +his profession. He is an Englishman, and in the midst of national and +professional prejudices, unsoftened by cultivation, retains some of the +noblest endowments of humanity. I first became acquainted with him on +board a whale vessel; finding that he was unemployed in this city, I +easily engaged him to assist in my enterprise. The master is a person +of an excellent disposition and is remarkable in the ship for his +gentleness and the mildness of his discipline. This circumstance, +added to his well-known integrity and dauntless courage, made me very +desirous to engage him. A youth passed in solitude, my best years +spent under your gentle and feminine fosterage, has so refined the +groundwork of my character that I cannot overcome an intense distaste +to the usual brutality exercised on board ship: I have never believed +it to be necessary, and when I heard of a mariner equally noted for his +kindliness of heart and the respect and obedience paid to him by his +crew, I felt myself peculiarly fortunate in being able to secure his +services. I heard of him first in rather a romantic manner, from a +lady who owes to him the happiness of her life. This, briefly, is his +story. Some years ago he loved a young Russian lady of moderate +fortune, and having amassed a considerable sum in prize-money, the +father of the girl consented to the match. He saw his mistress once +before the destined ceremony; but she was bathed in tears, and throwing +herself at his feet, entreated him to spare her, confessing at the same +time that she loved another, but that he was poor, and that her father +would never consent to the union. My generous friend reassured the +suppliant, and on being informed of the name of her lover, instantly +abandoned his pursuit. He had already bought a farm with his money, on +which he had designed to pass the remainder of his life; but he +bestowed the whole on his rival, together with the remains of his +prize-money to purchase stock, and then himself solicited the young +woman's father to consent to her marriage with her lover. But the old +man decidedly refused, thinking himself bound in honour to my friend, +who, when he found the father inexorable, quitted his country, nor +returned until he heard that his former mistress was married according +to her inclinations. "What a noble fellow!" you will exclaim. He is +so; but then he is wholly uneducated: he is as silent as a Turk, and a +kind of ignorant carelessness attends him, which, while it renders his +conduct the more astonishing, detracts from the interest and sympathy +which otherwise he would command. + +Yet do not suppose, because I complain a little or because I can +conceive a consolation for my toils which I may never know, that I am +wavering in my resolutions. Those are as fixed as fate, and my voyage +is only now delayed until the weather shall permit my embarkation. The +winter has been dreadfully severe, but the spring promises well, and it +is considered as a remarkably early season, so that perhaps I may sail +sooner than I expected. I shall do nothing rashly: you know me +sufficiently to confide in my prudence and considerateness whenever the +safety of others is committed to my care. + +I cannot describe to you my sensations on the near prospect of my +undertaking. It is impossible to communicate to you a conception of +the trembling sensation, half pleasurable and half fearful, with which +I am preparing to depart. I am going to unexplored regions, to "the +land of mist and snow," but I shall kill no albatross; therefore do not +be alarmed for my safety or if I should come back to you as worn and +woeful as the "Ancient Mariner." You will smile at my allusion, but I +will disclose a secret. I have often attributed my attachment to, my +passionate enthusiasm for, the dangerous mysteries of ocean to that +production of the most imaginative of modern poets. There is something +at work in my soul which I do not understand. I am practically +industrious--painstaking, a workman to execute with perseverance and +labour--but besides this there is a love for the marvellous, a belief +in the marvellous, intertwined in all my projects, which hurries me out +of the common pathways of men, even to the wild sea and unvisited +regions I am about to explore. But to return to dearer considerations. +Shall I meet you again, after having traversed immense seas, and +returned by the most southern cape of Africa or America? I dare not +expect such success, yet I cannot bear to look on the reverse of the +picture. Continue for the present to write to me by every opportunity: +I may receive your letters on some occasions when I need them most to +support my spirits. I love you very tenderly. Remember me with +affection, should you never hear from me again. + +Your affectionate brother, + Robert Walton + + + +Letter 3 + + + +July 7th, 17-- + +To Mrs. Saville, England + +My dear Sister, + +I write a few lines in haste to say that I am safe--and well advanced +on my voyage. This letter will reach England by a merchantman now on +its homeward voyage from Archangel; more fortunate than I, who may not +see my native land, perhaps, for many years. I am, however, in good +spirits: my men are bold and apparently firm of purpose, nor do the +floating sheets of ice that continually pass us, indicating the dangers +of the region towards which we are advancing, appear to dismay them. We +have already reached a very high latitude; but it is the height of +summer, and although not so warm as in England, the southern gales, +which blow us speedily towards those shores which I so ardently desire +to attain, breathe a degree of renovating warmth which I had not +expected. + +No incidents have hitherto befallen us that would make a figure in a +letter. One or two stiff gales and the springing of a leak are +accidents which experienced navigators scarcely remember to record, and +I shall be well content if nothing worse happen to us during our voyage. + +Adieu, my dear Margaret. Be assured that for my own sake, as well as +yours, I will not rashly encounter danger. I will be cool, +persevering, and prudent. + +But success SHALL crown my endeavours. Wherefore not? Thus far I have +gone, tracing a secure way over the pathless seas, the very stars +themselves being witnesses and testimonies of my triumph. Why not +still proceed over the untamed yet obedient element? What can stop the +determined heart and resolved will of man? + +My swelling heart involuntarily pours itself out thus. But I must +finish. Heaven bless my beloved sister! + +R.W. + + + +Letter 4 + + + +August 5th, 17-- + +To Mrs. Saville, England + +So strange an accident has happened to us that I cannot forbear +recording it, although it is very probable that you will see me before +these papers can come into your possession. + +Last Monday (July 31st) we were nearly surrounded by ice, which closed +in the ship on all sides, scarcely leaving her the sea-room in which +she floated. Our situation was somewhat dangerous, especially as we +were compassed round by a very thick fog. We accordingly lay to, +hoping that some change would take place in the atmosphere and weather. + +About two o'clock the mist cleared away, and we beheld, stretched out +in every direction, vast and irregular plains of ice, which seemed to +have no end. Some of my comrades groaned, and my own mind began to +grow watchful with anxious thoughts, when a strange sight suddenly +attracted our attention and diverted our solicitude from our own +situation. We perceived a low carriage, fixed on a sledge and drawn by +dogs, pass on towards the north, at the distance of half a mile; a +being which had the shape of a man, but apparently of gigantic stature, +sat in the sledge and guided the dogs. We watched the rapid progress +of the traveller with our telescopes until he was lost among the +distant inequalities of the ice. This appearance excited our +unqualified wonder. We were, as we believed, many hundred miles from +any land; but this apparition seemed to denote that it was not, in +reality, so distant as we had supposed. Shut in, however, by ice, it +was impossible to follow his track, which we had observed with the +greatest attention. About two hours after this occurrence we heard the +ground sea, and before night the ice broke and freed our ship. We, +however, lay to until the morning, fearing to encounter in the dark +those large loose masses which float about after the breaking up of the +ice. I profited of this time to rest for a few hours. + +In the morning, however, as soon as it was light, I went upon deck and +found all the sailors busy on one side of the vessel, apparently +talking to someone in the sea. It was, in fact, a sledge, like that we +had seen before, which had drifted towards us in the night on a large +fragment of ice. Only one dog remained alive; but there was a human +being within it whom the sailors were persuading to enter the vessel. +He was not, as the other traveller seemed to be, a savage inhabitant of +some undiscovered island, but a European. When I appeared on deck the +master said, "Here is our captain, and he will not allow you to perish +on the open sea." + +On perceiving me, the stranger addressed me in English, although with a +foreign accent. "Before I come on board your vessel," said he, "will +you have the kindness to inform me whither you are bound?" + +You may conceive my astonishment on hearing such a question addressed +to me from a man on the brink of destruction and to whom I should have +supposed that my vessel would have been a resource which he would not +have exchanged for the most precious wealth the earth can afford. I +replied, however, that we were on a voyage of discovery towards the +northern pole. + +Upon hearing this he appeared satisfied and consented to come on board. +Good God! Margaret, if you had seen the man who thus capitulated for +his safety, your surprise would have been boundless. His limbs were +nearly frozen, and his body dreadfully emaciated by fatigue and +suffering. I never saw a man in so wretched a condition. We attempted +to carry him into the cabin, but as soon as he had quitted the fresh +air he fainted. We accordingly brought him back to the deck and +restored him to animation by rubbing him with brandy and forcing him to +swallow a small quantity. As soon as he showed signs of life we +wrapped him up in blankets and placed him near the chimney of the +kitchen stove. By slow degrees he recovered and ate a little soup, +which restored him wonderfully. + +Two days passed in this manner before he was able to speak, and I often +feared that his sufferings had deprived him of understanding. When he +had in some measure recovered, I removed him to my own cabin and +attended on him as much as my duty would permit. I never saw a more +interesting creature: his eyes have generally an expression of +wildness, and even madness, but there are moments when, if anyone +performs an act of kindness towards him or does him any the most +trifling service, his whole countenance is lighted up, as it were, with +a beam of benevolence and sweetness that I never saw equalled. But he +is generally melancholy and despairing, and sometimes he gnashes his +teeth, as if impatient of the weight of woes that oppresses him. + +When my guest was a little recovered I had great trouble to keep off +the men, who wished to ask him a thousand questions; but I would not +allow him to be tormented by their idle curiosity, in a state of body +and mind whose restoration evidently depended upon entire repose. +Once, however, the lieutenant asked why he had come so far upon the ice +in so strange a vehicle. + +His countenance instantly assumed an aspect of the deepest gloom, and +he replied, "To seek one who fled from me." + +"And did the man whom you pursued travel in the same fashion?" + +"Yes." + +"Then I fancy we have seen him, for the day before we picked you up we +saw some dogs drawing a sledge, with a man in it, across the ice." + +This aroused the stranger's attention, and he asked a multitude of +questions concerning the route which the demon, as he called him, had +pursued. Soon after, when he was alone with me, he said, "I have, +doubtless, excited your curiosity, as well as that of these good +people; but you are too considerate to make inquiries." + +"Certainly; it would indeed be very impertinent and inhuman in me to +trouble you with any inquisitiveness of mine." + +"And yet you rescued me from a strange and perilous situation; you have +benevolently restored me to life." + +Soon after this he inquired if I thought that the breaking up of the +ice had destroyed the other sledge. I replied that I could not answer +with any degree of certainty, for the ice had not broken until near +midnight, and the traveller might have arrived at a place of safety +before that time; but of this I could not judge. From this time a new +spirit of life animated the decaying frame of the stranger. He +manifested the greatest eagerness to be upon deck to watch for the +sledge which had before appeared; but I have persuaded him to remain in +the cabin, for he is far too weak to sustain the rawness of the +atmosphere. I have promised that someone should watch for him and give +him instant notice if any new object should appear in sight. + +Such is my journal of what relates to this strange occurrence up to the +present day. The stranger has gradually improved in health but is very +silent and appears uneasy when anyone except myself enters his cabin. +Yet his manners are so conciliating and gentle that the sailors are all +interested in him, although they have had very little communication +with him. For my own part, I begin to love him as a brother, and his +constant and deep grief fills me with sympathy and compassion. He must +have been a noble creature in his better days, being even now in wreck +so attractive and amiable. I said in one of my letters, my dear +Margaret, that I should find no friend on the wide ocean; yet I have +found a man who, before his spirit had been broken by misery, I should +have been happy to have possessed as the brother of my heart. + +I shall continue my journal concerning the stranger at intervals, +should I have any fresh incidents to record. + + +August 13th, 17-- + +My affection for my guest increases every day. He excites at once my +admiration and my pity to an astonishing degree. How can I see so +noble a creature destroyed by misery without feeling the most poignant +grief? He is so gentle, yet so wise; his mind is so cultivated, and +when he speaks, although his words are culled with the choicest art, +yet they flow with rapidity and unparalleled eloquence. He is now much +recovered from his illness and is continually on the deck, apparently +watching for the sledge that preceded his own. Yet, although unhappy, +he is not so utterly occupied by his own misery but that he interests +himself deeply in the projects of others. He has frequently conversed +with me on mine, which I have communicated to him without disguise. He +entered attentively into all my arguments in favour of my eventual +success and into every minute detail of the measures I had taken to +secure it. I was easily led by the sympathy which he evinced to use +the language of my heart, to give utterance to the burning ardour of my +soul and to say, with all the fervour that warmed me, how gladly I +would sacrifice my fortune, my existence, my every hope, to the +furtherance of my enterprise. One man's life or death were but a small +price to pay for the acquirement of the knowledge which I sought, for +the dominion I should acquire and transmit over the elemental foes of +our race. As I spoke, a dark gloom spread over my listener's +countenance. At first I perceived that he tried to suppress his +emotion; he placed his hands before his eyes, and my voice quivered and +failed me as I beheld tears trickle fast from between his fingers; a +groan burst from his heaving breast. I paused; at length he spoke, in +broken accents: "Unhappy man! Do you share my madness? Have you +drunk also of the intoxicating draught? Hear me; let me reveal my +tale, and you will dash the cup from your lips!" + +Such words, you may imagine, strongly excited my curiosity; but the +paroxysm of grief that had seized the stranger overcame his weakened +powers, and many hours of repose and tranquil conversation were +necessary to restore his composure. Having conquered the violence of +his feelings, he appeared to despise himself for being the slave of +passion; and quelling the dark tyranny of despair, he led me again to +converse concerning myself personally. He asked me the history of my +earlier years. The tale was quickly told, but it awakened various +trains of reflection. I spoke of my desire of finding a friend, of my +thirst for a more intimate sympathy with a fellow mind than had ever +fallen to my lot, and expressed my conviction that a man could boast of +little happiness who did not enjoy this blessing. "I agree with you," +replied the stranger; "we are unfashioned creatures, but half made up, +if one wiser, better, dearer than ourselves--such a friend ought to +be--do not lend his aid to perfectionate our weak and faulty natures. I +once had a friend, the most noble of human creatures, and am entitled, +therefore, to judge respecting friendship. You have hope, and the +world before you, and have no cause for despair. But I--I have lost +everything and cannot begin life anew." + +As he said this his countenance became expressive of a calm, settled +grief that touched me to the heart. But he was silent and presently +retired to his cabin. + +Even broken in spirit as he is, no one can feel more deeply than he +does the beauties of nature. The starry sky, the sea, and every sight +afforded by these wonderful regions seem still to have the power of +elevating his soul from earth. Such a man has a double existence: he +may suffer misery and be overwhelmed by disappointments, yet when he +has retired into himself, he will be like a celestial spirit that has a +halo around him, within whose circle no grief or folly ventures. + +Will you smile at the enthusiasm I express concerning this divine +wanderer? You would not if you saw him. You have been tutored and +refined by books and retirement from the world, and you are therefore +somewhat fastidious; but this only renders you the more fit to +appreciate the extraordinary merits of this wonderful man. Sometimes I +have endeavoured to discover what quality it is which he possesses that +elevates him so immeasurably above any other person I ever knew. I +believe it to be an intuitive discernment, a quick but never-failing +power of judgment, a penetration into the causes of things, unequalled +for clearness and precision; add to this a facility of expression and a +voice whose varied intonations are soul-subduing music. + + +August 19, 17-- + +Yesterday the stranger said to me, "You may easily perceive, Captain +Walton, that I have suffered great and unparalleled misfortunes. I had +determined at one time that the memory of these evils should die with +me, but you have won me to alter my determination. You seek for +knowledge and wisdom, as I once did; and I ardently hope that the +gratification of your wishes may not be a serpent to sting you, as mine +has been. I do not know that the relation of my disasters will be +useful to you; yet, when I reflect that you are pursuing the same +course, exposing yourself to the same dangers which have rendered me +what I am, I imagine that you may deduce an apt moral from my tale, one +that may direct you if you succeed in your undertaking and console you +in case of failure. Prepare to hear of occurrences which are usually +deemed marvellous. Were we among the tamer scenes of nature I might +fear to encounter your unbelief, perhaps your ridicule; but many things +will appear possible in these wild and mysterious regions which would +provoke the laughter of those unacquainted with the ever-varied powers +of nature; nor can I doubt but that my tale conveys in its series +internal evidence of the truth of the events of which it is composed." + +You may easily imagine that I was much gratified by the offered +communication, yet I could not endure that he should renew his grief by +a recital of his misfortunes. I felt the greatest eagerness to hear +the promised narrative, partly from curiosity and partly from a strong +desire to ameliorate his fate if it were in my power. I expressed +these feelings in my answer. + +"I thank you," he replied, "for your sympathy, but it is useless; my +fate is nearly fulfilled. I wait but for one event, and then I shall +repose in peace. I understand your feeling," continued he, perceiving +that I wished to interrupt him; "but you are mistaken, my friend, if +thus you will allow me to name you; nothing can alter my destiny; +listen to my history, and you will perceive how irrevocably it is +determined." + +He then told me that he would commence his narrative the next day when +I should be at leisure. This promise drew from me the warmest thanks. +I have resolved every night, when I am not imperatively occupied by my +duties, to record, as nearly as possible in his own words, what he has +related during the day. If I should be engaged, I will at least make +notes. This manuscript will doubtless afford you the greatest +pleasure; but to me, who know him, and who hear it from his own +lips--with what interest and sympathy shall I read it in some future +day! Even now, as I commence my task, his full-toned voice swells in +my ears; his lustrous eyes dwell on me with all their melancholy +sweetness; I see his thin hand raised in animation, while the +lineaments of his face are irradiated by the soul within. + +Strange and harrowing must be his story, frightful the storm which +embraced the gallant vessel on its course and wrecked it--thus! + + + +Chapter 1 + +I am by birth a Genevese, and my family is one of the most +distinguished of that republic. My ancestors had been for many years +counsellors and syndics, and my father had filled several public +situations with honour and reputation. He was respected by all who +knew him for his integrity and indefatigable attention to public +business. He passed his younger days perpetually occupied by the +affairs of his country; a variety of circumstances had prevented his +marrying early, nor was it until the decline of life that he became a +husband and the father of a family. + +As the circumstances of his marriage illustrate his character, I cannot +refrain from relating them. One of his most intimate friends was a +merchant who, from a flourishing state, fell, through numerous +mischances, into poverty. This man, whose name was Beaufort, was of a +proud and unbending disposition and could not bear to live in poverty +and oblivion in the same country where he had formerly been +distinguished for his rank and magnificence. Having paid his debts, +therefore, in the most honourable manner, he retreated with his +daughter to the town of Lucerne, where he lived unknown and in +wretchedness. My father loved Beaufort with the truest friendship and +was deeply grieved by his retreat in these unfortunate circumstances. +He bitterly deplored the false pride which led his friend to a conduct +so little worthy of the affection that united them. He lost no time in +endeavouring to seek him out, with the hope of persuading him to begin +the world again through his credit and assistance. + +Beaufort had taken effectual measures to conceal himself, and it was ten +months before my father discovered his abode. Overjoyed at this +discovery, he hastened to the house, which was situated in a mean street +near the Reuss. But when he entered, misery and despair alone welcomed +him. Beaufort had saved but a very small sum of money from the wreck of +his fortunes, but it was sufficient to provide him with sustenance for +some months, and in the meantime he hoped to procure some respectable +employment in a merchant's house. The interval was, consequently, spent +in inaction; his grief only became more deep and rankling when he had +leisure for reflection, and at length it took so fast hold of his mind +that at the end of three months he lay on a bed of sickness, incapable +of any exertion. + +His daughter attended him with the greatest tenderness, but she saw +with despair that their little fund was rapidly decreasing and that +there was no other prospect of support. But Caroline Beaufort +possessed a mind of an uncommon mould, and her courage rose to support +her in her adversity. She procured plain work; she plaited straw and +by various means contrived to earn a pittance scarcely sufficient to +support life. + +Several months passed in this manner. Her father grew worse; her time +was more entirely occupied in attending him; her means of subsistence +decreased; and in the tenth month her father died in her arms, leaving +her an orphan and a beggar. This last blow overcame her, and she knelt +by Beaufort's coffin weeping bitterly, when my father entered the +chamber. He came like a protecting spirit to the poor girl, who +committed herself to his care; and after the interment of his friend he +conducted her to Geneva and placed her under the protection of a +relation. Two years after this event Caroline became his wife. + +There was a considerable difference between the ages of my parents, but +this circumstance seemed to unite them only closer in bonds of devoted +affection. There was a sense of justice in my father's upright mind +which rendered it necessary that he should approve highly to love +strongly. Perhaps during former years he had suffered from the +late-discovered unworthiness of one beloved and so was disposed to set +a greater value on tried worth. There was a show of gratitude and +worship in his attachment to my mother, differing wholly from the +doting fondness of age, for it was inspired by reverence for her +virtues and a desire to be the means of, in some degree, recompensing +her for the sorrows she had endured, but which gave inexpressible grace +to his behaviour to her. Everything was made to yield to her wishes +and her convenience. He strove to shelter her, as a fair exotic is +sheltered by the gardener, from every rougher wind and to surround her +with all that could tend to excite pleasurable emotion in her soft and +benevolent mind. Her health, and even the tranquillity of her hitherto +constant spirit, had been shaken by what she had gone through. During +the two years that had elapsed previous to their marriage my father had +gradually relinquished all his public functions; and immediately after +their union they sought the pleasant climate of Italy, and the change +of scene and interest attendant on a tour through that land of wonders, +as a restorative for her weakened frame. + +From Italy they visited Germany and France. I, their eldest child, was +born at Naples, and as an infant accompanied them in their rambles. I +remained for several years their only child. Much as they were +attached to each other, they seemed to draw inexhaustible stores of +affection from a very mine of love to bestow them upon me. My mother's +tender caresses and my father's smile of benevolent pleasure while +regarding me are my first recollections. I was their plaything and +their idol, and something better--their child, the innocent and +helpless creature bestowed on them by heaven, whom to bring up to good, +and whose future lot it was in their hands to direct to happiness or +misery, according as they fulfilled their duties towards me. With this +deep consciousness of what they owed towards the being to which they +had given life, added to the active spirit of tenderness that animated +both, it may be imagined that while during every hour of my infant life +I received a lesson of patience, of charity, and of self-control, I was +so guided by a silken cord that all seemed but one train of enjoyment +to me. For a long time I was their only care. My mother had much +desired to have a daughter, but I continued their single offspring. +When I was about five years old, while making an excursion beyond the +frontiers of Italy, they passed a week on the shores of the Lake of +Como. Their benevolent disposition often made them enter the cottages +of the poor. This, to my mother, was more than a duty; it was a +necessity, a passion--remembering what she had suffered, and how she +had been relieved--for her to act in her turn the guardian angel to the +afflicted. During one of their walks a poor cot in the foldings of a +vale attracted their notice as being singularly disconsolate, while the +number of half-clothed children gathered about it spoke of penury in +its worst shape. One day, when my father had gone by himself to Milan, +my mother, accompanied by me, visited this abode. She found a peasant +and his wife, hard working, bent down by care and labour, distributing +a scanty meal to five hungry babes. Among these there was one which +attracted my mother far above all the rest. She appeared of a +different stock. The four others were dark-eyed, hardy little +vagrants; this child was thin and very fair. Her hair was the +brightest living gold, and despite the poverty of her clothing, seemed +to set a crown of distinction on her head. Her brow was clear and +ample, her blue eyes cloudless, and her lips and the moulding of her +face so expressive of sensibility and sweetness that none could behold +her without looking on her as of a distinct species, a being +heaven-sent, and bearing a celestial stamp in all her features. The +peasant woman, perceiving that my mother fixed eyes of wonder and +admiration on this lovely girl, eagerly communicated her history. She +was not her child, but the daughter of a Milanese nobleman. Her mother +was a German and had died on giving her birth. The infant had been +placed with these good people to nurse: they were better off then. +They had not been long married, and their eldest child was but just +born. The father of their charge was one of those Italians nursed in +the memory of the antique glory of Italy--one among the schiavi ognor +frementi, who exerted himself to obtain the liberty of his country. He +became the victim of its weakness. Whether he had died or still +lingered in the dungeons of Austria was not known. His property was +confiscated; his child became an orphan and a beggar. She continued +with her foster parents and bloomed in their rude abode, fairer than a +garden rose among dark-leaved brambles. When my father returned from +Milan, he found playing with me in the hall of our villa a child fairer +than pictured cherub--a creature who seemed to shed radiance from her +looks and whose form and motions were lighter than the chamois of the +hills. The apparition was soon explained. With his permission my +mother prevailed on her rustic guardians to yield their charge to her. +They were fond of the sweet orphan. Her presence had seemed a blessing +to them, but it would be unfair to her to keep her in poverty and want +when Providence afforded her such powerful protection. They consulted +their village priest, and the result was that Elizabeth Lavenza became +the inmate of my parents' house--my more than sister--the beautiful and +adored companion of all my occupations and my pleasures. + +Everyone loved Elizabeth. The passionate and almost reverential +attachment with which all regarded her became, while I shared it, my +pride and my delight. On the evening previous to her being brought to +my home, my mother had said playfully, "I have a pretty present for my +Victor--tomorrow he shall have it." And when, on the morrow, she +presented Elizabeth to me as her promised gift, I, with childish +seriousness, interpreted her words literally and looked upon Elizabeth +as mine--mine to protect, love, and cherish. All praises bestowed on +her I received as made to a possession of my own. We called each other +familiarly by the name of cousin. No word, no expression could body +forth the kind of relation in which she stood to me--my more than +sister, since till death she was to be mine only. + + + +Chapter 2 + +We were brought up together; there was not quite a year difference in +our ages. I need not say that we were strangers to any species of +disunion or dispute. Harmony was the soul of our companionship, and +the diversity and contrast that subsisted in our characters drew us +nearer together. Elizabeth was of a calmer and more concentrated +disposition; but, with all my ardour, I was capable of a more intense +application and was more deeply smitten with the thirst for knowledge. +She busied herself with following the aerial creations of the poets; +and in the majestic and wondrous scenes which surrounded our Swiss home +--the sublime shapes of the mountains, the changes of the seasons, +tempest and calm, the silence of winter, and the life and turbulence of +our Alpine summers--she found ample scope for admiration and delight. +While my companion contemplated with a serious and satisfied spirit the +magnificent appearances of things, I delighted in investigating their +causes. The world was to me a secret which I desired to divine. +Curiosity, earnest research to learn the hidden laws of nature, +gladness akin to rapture, as they were unfolded to me, are among the +earliest sensations I can remember. + +On the birth of a second son, my junior by seven years, my parents gave +up entirely their wandering life and fixed themselves in their native +country. We possessed a house in Geneva, and a campagne on Belrive, +the eastern shore of the lake, at the distance of rather more than a +league from the city. We resided principally in the latter, and the +lives of my parents were passed in considerable seclusion. It was my +temper to avoid a crowd and to attach myself fervently to a few. I was +indifferent, therefore, to my school-fellows in general; but I united +myself in the bonds of the closest friendship to one among them. Henry +Clerval was the son of a merchant of Geneva. He was a boy of singular +talent and fancy. He loved enterprise, hardship, and even danger for +its own sake. He was deeply read in books of chivalry and romance. He +composed heroic songs and began to write many a tale of enchantment and +knightly adventure. He tried to make us act plays and to enter into +masquerades, in which the characters were drawn from the heroes of +Roncesvalles, of the Round Table of King Arthur, and the chivalrous +train who shed their blood to redeem the holy sepulchre from the hands +of the infidels. + +No human being could have passed a happier childhood than myself. My +parents were possessed by the very spirit of kindness and indulgence. +We felt that they were not the tyrants to rule our lot according to +their caprice, but the agents and creators of all the many delights +which we enjoyed. When I mingled with other families I distinctly +discerned how peculiarly fortunate my lot was, and gratitude assisted +the development of filial love. + +My temper was sometimes violent, and my passions vehement; but by some +law in my temperature they were turned not towards childish pursuits +but to an eager desire to learn, and not to learn all things +indiscriminately. I confess that neither the structure of languages, +nor the code of governments, nor the politics of various states +possessed attractions for me. It was the secrets of heaven and earth +that I desired to learn; and whether it was the outward substance of +things or the inner spirit of nature and the mysterious soul of man +that occupied me, still my inquiries were directed to the metaphysical, +or in its highest sense, the physical secrets of the world. + +Meanwhile Clerval occupied himself, so to speak, with the moral +relations of things. The busy stage of life, the virtues of heroes, +and the actions of men were his theme; and his hope and his dream was +to become one among those whose names are recorded in story as the +gallant and adventurous benefactors of our species. The saintly soul +of Elizabeth shone like a shrine-dedicated lamp in our peaceful home. +Her sympathy was ours; her smile, her soft voice, the sweet glance of +her celestial eyes, were ever there to bless and animate us. She was +the living spirit of love to soften and attract; I might have become +sullen in my study, rough through the ardour of my nature, but that +she was there to subdue me to a semblance of her own gentleness. And +Clerval--could aught ill entrench on the noble spirit of Clerval? Yet +he might not have been so perfectly humane, so thoughtful in his +generosity, so full of kindness and tenderness amidst his passion for +adventurous exploit, had she not unfolded to him the real loveliness of +beneficence and made the doing good the end and aim of his soaring +ambition. + +I feel exquisite pleasure in dwelling on the recollections of +childhood, before misfortune had tainted my mind and changed its bright +visions of extensive usefulness into gloomy and narrow reflections upon +self. Besides, in drawing the picture of my early days, I also record +those events which led, by insensible steps, to my after tale of +misery, for when I would account to myself for the birth of that +passion which afterwards ruled my destiny I find it arise, like a +mountain river, from ignoble and almost forgotten sources; but, +swelling as it proceeded, it became the torrent which, in its course, +has swept away all my hopes and joys. Natural philosophy is the genius +that has regulated my fate; I desire, therefore, in this narration, to +state those facts which led to my predilection for that science. When +I was thirteen years of age we all went on a party of pleasure to the +baths near Thonon; the inclemency of the weather obliged us to remain a +day confined to the inn. In this house I chanced to find a volume of +the works of Cornelius Agrippa. I opened it with apathy; the theory +which he attempts to demonstrate and the wonderful facts which he +relates soon changed this feeling into enthusiasm. A new light seemed +to dawn upon my mind, and bounding with joy, I communicated my +discovery to my father. My father looked carelessly at the title page +of my book and said, "Ah! Cornelius Agrippa! My dear Victor, do not +waste your time upon this; it is sad trash." + +If, instead of this remark, my father had taken the pains to explain to +me that the principles of Agrippa had been entirely exploded and that a +modern system of science had been introduced which possessed much +greater powers than the ancient, because the powers of the latter were +chimerical, while those of the former were real and practical, under +such circumstances I should certainly have thrown Agrippa aside and +have contented my imagination, warmed as it was, by returning with +greater ardour to my former studies. It is even possible that the +train of my ideas would never have received the fatal impulse that led +to my ruin. But the cursory glance my father had taken of my volume by +no means assured me that he was acquainted with its contents, and I +continued to read with the greatest avidity. When I returned home my +first care was to procure the whole works of this author, and +afterwards of Paracelsus and Albertus Magnus. I read and studied the +wild fancies of these writers with delight; they appeared to me +treasures known to few besides myself. I have described myself as +always having been imbued with a fervent longing to penetrate the +secrets of nature. In spite of the intense labour and wonderful +discoveries of modern philosophers, I always came from my studies +discontented and unsatisfied. Sir Isaac Newton is said to have avowed +that he felt like a child picking up shells beside the great and +unexplored ocean of truth. Those of his successors in each branch of +natural philosophy with whom I was acquainted appeared even to my boy's +apprehensions as tyros engaged in the same pursuit. + +The untaught peasant beheld the elements around him and was acquainted +with their practical uses. The most learned philosopher knew little +more. He had partially unveiled the face of Nature, but her immortal +lineaments were still a wonder and a mystery. He might dissect, +anatomize, and give names; but, not to speak of a final cause, causes +in their secondary and tertiary grades were utterly unknown to him. I +had gazed upon the fortifications and impediments that seemed to keep +human beings from entering the citadel of nature, and rashly and +ignorantly I had repined. + +But here were books, and here were men who had penetrated deeper and +knew more. I took their word for all that they averred, and I became +their disciple. It may appear strange that such should arise in the +eighteenth century; but while I followed the routine of education in +the schools of Geneva, I was, to a great degree, self-taught with +regard to my favourite studies. My father was not scientific, and I +was left to struggle with a child's blindness, added to a student's +thirst for knowledge. Under the guidance of my new preceptors I +entered with the greatest diligence into the search of the +philosopher's stone and the elixir of life; but the latter soon +obtained my undivided attention. Wealth was an inferior object, but +what glory would attend the discovery if I could banish disease from +the human frame and render man invulnerable to any but a violent death! +Nor were these my only visions. The raising of ghosts or devils was a +promise liberally accorded by my favourite authors, the fulfilment of +which I most eagerly sought; and if my incantations were always +unsuccessful, I attributed the failure rather to my own inexperience +and mistake than to a want of skill or fidelity in my instructors. And +thus for a time I was occupied by exploded systems, mingling, like an +unadept, a thousand contradictory theories and floundering desperately +in a very slough of multifarious knowledge, guided by an ardent +imagination and childish reasoning, till an accident again changed the +current of my ideas. When I was about fifteen years old we had retired +to our house near Belrive, when we witnessed a most violent and +terrible thunderstorm. It advanced from behind the mountains of Jura, +and the thunder burst at once with frightful loudness from various +quarters of the heavens. I remained, while the storm lasted, watching +its progress with curiosity and delight. As I stood at the door, on a +sudden I beheld a stream of fire issue from an old and beautiful oak +which stood about twenty yards from our house; and so soon as the +dazzling light vanished, the oak had disappeared, and nothing remained +but a blasted stump. When we visited it the next morning, we found the +tree shattered in a singular manner. It was not splintered by the +shock, but entirely reduced to thin ribbons of wood. I never beheld +anything so utterly destroyed. + +Before this I was not unacquainted with the more obvious laws of +electricity. On this occasion a man of great research in natural +philosophy was with us, and excited by this catastrophe, he entered on +the explanation of a theory which he had formed on the subject of +electricity and galvanism, which was at once new and astonishing to me. +All that he said threw greatly into the shade Cornelius Agrippa, +Albertus Magnus, and Paracelsus, the lords of my imagination; but by +some fatality the overthrow of these men disinclined me to pursue my +accustomed studies. It seemed to me as if nothing would or could ever +be known. All that had so long engaged my attention suddenly grew +despicable. By one of those caprices of the mind which we are perhaps +most subject to in early youth, I at once gave up my former +occupations, set down natural history and all its progeny as a deformed +and abortive creation, and entertained the greatest disdain for a +would-be science which could never even step within the threshold of +real knowledge. In this mood of mind I betook myself to the +mathematics and the branches of study appertaining to that science as +being built upon secure foundations, and so worthy of my consideration. + +Thus strangely are our souls constructed, and by such slight ligaments +are we bound to prosperity or ruin. When I look back, it seems to me +as if this almost miraculous change of inclination and will was the +immediate suggestion of the guardian angel of my life--the last effort +made by the spirit of preservation to avert the storm that was even +then hanging in the stars and ready to envelop me. Her victory was +announced by an unusual tranquillity and gladness of soul which +followed the relinquishing of my ancient and latterly tormenting +studies. It was thus that I was to be taught to associate evil with +their prosecution, happiness with their disregard. + +It was a strong effort of the spirit of good, but it was ineffectual. +Destiny was too potent, and her immutable laws had decreed my utter and +terrible destruction. + + + +Chapter 3 + +When I had attained the age of seventeen my parents resolved that I +should become a student at the university of Ingolstadt. I had +hitherto attended the schools of Geneva, but my father thought it +necessary for the completion of my education that I should be made +acquainted with other customs than those of my native country. My +departure was therefore fixed at an early date, but before the day +resolved upon could arrive, the first misfortune of my life +occurred--an omen, as it were, of my future misery. Elizabeth had +caught the scarlet fever; her illness was severe, and she was in the +greatest danger. During her illness many arguments had been urged to +persuade my mother to refrain from attending upon her. She had at +first yielded to our entreaties, but when she heard that the life of +her favourite was menaced, she could no longer control her anxiety. She +attended her sickbed; her watchful attentions triumphed over the +malignity of the distemper--Elizabeth was saved, but the consequences +of this imprudence were fatal to her preserver. On the third day my +mother sickened; her fever was accompanied by the most alarming +symptoms, and the looks of her medical attendants prognosticated the +worst event. On her deathbed the fortitude and benignity of this best +of women did not desert her. She joined the hands of Elizabeth and +myself. "My children," she said, "my firmest hopes of future happiness +were placed on the prospect of your union. This expectation will now +be the consolation of your father. Elizabeth, my love, you must supply +my place to my younger children. Alas! I regret that I am taken from +you; and, happy and beloved as I have been, is it not hard to quit you +all? But these are not thoughts befitting me; I will endeavour to +resign myself cheerfully to death and will indulge a hope of meeting +you in another world." + +She died calmly, and her countenance expressed affection even in death. +I need not describe the feelings of those whose dearest ties are rent +by that most irreparable evil, the void that presents itself to the +soul, and the despair that is exhibited on the countenance. It is so +long before the mind can persuade itself that she whom we saw every day +and whose very existence appeared a part of our own can have departed +forever--that the brightness of a beloved eye can have been +extinguished and the sound of a voice so familiar and dear to the ear +can be hushed, never more to be heard. These are the reflections of +the first days; but when the lapse of time proves the reality of the +evil, then the actual bitterness of grief commences. Yet from whom has +not that rude hand rent away some dear connection? And why should I +describe a sorrow which all have felt, and must feel? The time at +length arrives when grief is rather an indulgence than a necessity; and +the smile that plays upon the lips, although it may be deemed a +sacrilege, is not banished. My mother was dead, but we had still +duties which we ought to perform; we must continue our course with the +rest and learn to think ourselves fortunate whilst one remains whom the +spoiler has not seized. + +My departure for Ingolstadt, which had been deferred by these events, +was now again determined upon. I obtained from my father a respite of +some weeks. It appeared to me sacrilege so soon to leave the repose, +akin to death, of the house of mourning and to rush into the thick of +life. I was new to sorrow, but it did not the less alarm me. I was +unwilling to quit the sight of those that remained to me, and above +all, I desired to see my sweet Elizabeth in some degree consoled. + +She indeed veiled her grief and strove to act the comforter to us all. +She looked steadily on life and assumed its duties with courage and +zeal. She devoted herself to those whom she had been taught to call +her uncle and cousins. Never was she so enchanting as at this time, +when she recalled the sunshine of her smiles and spent them upon us. +She forgot even her own regret in her endeavours to make us forget. + +The day of my departure at length arrived. Clerval spent the last +evening with us. He had endeavoured to persuade his father to permit +him to accompany me and to become my fellow student, but in vain. His +father was a narrow-minded trader and saw idleness and ruin in the +aspirations and ambition of his son. Henry deeply felt the misfortune +of being debarred from a liberal education. He said little, but when +he spoke I read in his kindling eye and in his animated glance a +restrained but firm resolve not to be chained to the miserable details +of commerce. + +We sat late. We could not tear ourselves away from each other nor +persuade ourselves to say the word "Farewell!" It was said, and we +retired under the pretence of seeking repose, each fancying that the +other was deceived; but when at morning's dawn I descended to the +carriage which was to convey me away, they were all there--my father +again to bless me, Clerval to press my hand once more, my Elizabeth to +renew her entreaties that I would write often and to bestow the last +feminine attentions on her playmate and friend. + +I threw myself into the chaise that was to convey me away and indulged +in the most melancholy reflections. I, who had ever been surrounded by +amiable companions, continually engaged in endeavouring to bestow +mutual pleasure--I was now alone. In the university whither I was +going I must form my own friends and be my own protector. My life had +hitherto been remarkably secluded and domestic, and this had given me +invincible repugnance to new countenances. I loved my brothers, +Elizabeth, and Clerval; these were "old familiar faces," but I believed +myself totally unfitted for the company of strangers. Such were my +reflections as I commenced my journey; but as I proceeded, my spirits +and hopes rose. I ardently desired the acquisition of knowledge. I +had often, when at home, thought it hard to remain during my youth +cooped up in one place and had longed to enter the world and take my +station among other human beings. Now my desires were complied with, +and it would, indeed, have been folly to repent. + +I had sufficient leisure for these and many other reflections during my +journey to Ingolstadt, which was long and fatiguing. At length the +high white steeple of the town met my eyes. I alighted and was +conducted to my solitary apartment to spend the evening as I pleased. + +The next morning I delivered my letters of introduction and paid a +visit to some of the principal professors. Chance--or rather the evil +influence, the Angel of Destruction, which asserted omnipotent sway +over me from the moment I turned my reluctant steps from my father's +door--led me first to M. Krempe, professor of natural philosophy. He +was an uncouth man, but deeply imbued in the secrets of his science. He +asked me several questions concerning my progress in the different +branches of science appertaining to natural philosophy. I replied +carelessly, and partly in contempt, mentioned the names of my +alchemists as the principal authors I had studied. The professor +stared. "Have you," he said, "really spent your time in studying such +nonsense?" + +I replied in the affirmative. "Every minute," continued M. Krempe with +warmth, "every instant that you have wasted on those books is utterly +and entirely lost. You have burdened your memory with exploded systems +and useless names. Good God! In what desert land have you lived, +where no one was kind enough to inform you that these fancies which you +have so greedily imbibed are a thousand years old and as musty as they +are ancient? I little expected, in this enlightened and scientific +age, to find a disciple of Albertus Magnus and Paracelsus. My dear +sir, you must begin your studies entirely anew." + +So saying, he stepped aside and wrote down a list of several books +treating of natural philosophy which he desired me to procure, and +dismissed me after mentioning that in the beginning of the following +week he intended to commence a course of lectures upon natural +philosophy in its general relations, and that M. Waldman, a fellow +professor, would lecture upon chemistry the alternate days that he +omitted. + +I returned home not disappointed, for I have said that I had long +considered those authors useless whom the professor reprobated; but I +returned not at all the more inclined to recur to these studies in any +shape. M. Krempe was a little squat man with a gruff voice and a +repulsive countenance; the teacher, therefore, did not prepossess me in +favour of his pursuits. In rather a too philosophical and connected a +strain, perhaps, I have given an account of the conclusions I had come +to concerning them in my early years. As a child I had not been +content with the results promised by the modern professors of natural +science. With a confusion of ideas only to be accounted for by my +extreme youth and my want of a guide on such matters, I had retrod the +steps of knowledge along the paths of time and exchanged the +discoveries of recent inquirers for the dreams of forgotten alchemists. +Besides, I had a contempt for the uses of modern natural philosophy. +It was very different when the masters of the science sought +immortality and power; such views, although futile, were grand; but now +the scene was changed. The ambition of the inquirer seemed to limit +itself to the annihilation of those visions on which my interest in +science was chiefly founded. I was required to exchange chimeras of +boundless grandeur for realities of little worth. + +Such were my reflections during the first two or three days of my +residence at Ingolstadt, which were chiefly spent in becoming +acquainted with the localities and the principal residents in my new +abode. But as the ensuing week commenced, I thought of the information +which M. Krempe had given me concerning the lectures. And although I +could not consent to go and hear that little conceited fellow deliver +sentences out of a pulpit, I recollected what he had said of M. +Waldman, whom I had never seen, as he had hitherto been out of town. + +Partly from curiosity and partly from idleness, I went into the +lecturing room, which M. Waldman entered shortly after. This professor +was very unlike his colleague. He appeared about fifty years of age, +but with an aspect expressive of the greatest benevolence; a few grey +hairs covered his temples, but those at the back of his head were +nearly black. His person was short but remarkably erect and his voice +the sweetest I had ever heard. He began his lecture by a +recapitulation of the history of chemistry and the various improvements +made by different men of learning, pronouncing with fervour the names +of the most distinguished discoverers. He then took a cursory view of +the present state of the science and explained many of its elementary +terms. After having made a few preparatory experiments, he concluded +with a panegyric upon modern chemistry, the terms of which I shall +never forget: "The ancient teachers of this science," said he, +"promised impossibilities and performed nothing. The modern masters +promise very little; they know that metals cannot be transmuted and +that the elixir of life is a chimera but these philosophers, whose +hands seem only made to dabble in dirt, and their eyes to pore over the +microscope or crucible, have indeed performed miracles. They penetrate +into the recesses of nature and show how she works in her +hiding-places. They ascend into the heavens; they have discovered how +the blood circulates, and the nature of the air we breathe. They have +acquired new and almost unlimited powers; they can command the thunders +of heaven, mimic the earthquake, and even mock the invisible world with +its own shadows." + +Such were the professor's words--rather let me say such the words of +the fate--enounced to destroy me. As he went on I felt as if my soul +were grappling with a palpable enemy; one by one the various keys were +touched which formed the mechanism of my being; chord after chord was +sounded, and soon my mind was filled with one thought, one conception, +one purpose. So much has been done, exclaimed the soul of +Frankenstein--more, far more, will I achieve; treading in the steps +already marked, I will pioneer a new way, explore unknown powers, and +unfold to the world the deepest mysteries of creation. + +I closed not my eyes that night. My internal being was in a state of +insurrection and turmoil; I felt that order would thence arise, but I +had no power to produce it. By degrees, after the morning's dawn, +sleep came. I awoke, and my yesternight's thoughts were as a dream. +There only remained a resolution to return to my ancient studies and to +devote myself to a science for which I believed myself to possess a +natural talent. On the same day I paid M. Waldman a visit. His +manners in private were even more mild and attractive than in public, +for there was a certain dignity in his mien during his lecture which in +his own house was replaced by the greatest affability and kindness. I +gave him pretty nearly the same account of my former pursuits as I had +given to his fellow professor. He heard with attention the little +narration concerning my studies and smiled at the names of Cornelius +Agrippa and Paracelsus, but without the contempt that M. Krempe had +exhibited. He said that "These were men to whose indefatigable zeal +modern philosophers were indebted for most of the foundations of their +knowledge. They had left to us, as an easier task, to give new names +and arrange in connected classifications the facts which they in a +great degree had been the instruments of bringing to light. The +labours of men of genius, however erroneously directed, scarcely ever +fail in ultimately turning to the solid advantage of mankind." I +listened to his statement, which was delivered without any presumption +or affectation, and then added that his lecture had removed my +prejudices against modern chemists; I expressed myself in measured +terms, with the modesty and deference due from a youth to his +instructor, without letting escape (inexperience in life would have +made me ashamed) any of the enthusiasm which stimulated my intended +labours. I requested his advice concerning the books I ought to +procure. + +"I am happy," said M. Waldman, "to have gained a disciple; and if your +application equals your ability, I have no doubt of your success. +Chemistry is that branch of natural philosophy in which the greatest +improvements have been and may be made; it is on that account that I +have made it my peculiar study; but at the same time, I have not +neglected the other branches of science. A man would make but a very +sorry chemist if he attended to that department of human knowledge +alone. If your wish is to become really a man of science and not +merely a petty experimentalist, I should advise you to apply to every +branch of natural philosophy, including mathematics." He then took me +into his laboratory and explained to me the uses of his various +machines, instructing me as to what I ought to procure and promising me +the use of his own when I should have advanced far enough in the +science not to derange their mechanism. He also gave me the list of +books which I had requested, and I took my leave. + +Thus ended a day memorable to me; it decided my future destiny. + + + +Chapter 4 + +From this day natural philosophy, and particularly chemistry, in the +most comprehensive sense of the term, became nearly my sole occupation. +I read with ardour those works, so full of genius and discrimination, +which modern inquirers have written on these subjects. I attended the +lectures and cultivated the acquaintance of the men of science of the +university, and I found even in M. Krempe a great deal of sound sense +and real information, combined, it is true, with a repulsive +physiognomy and manners, but not on that account the less valuable. In +M. Waldman I found a true friend. His gentleness was never tinged by +dogmatism, and his instructions were given with an air of frankness and +good nature that banished every idea of pedantry. In a thousand ways +he smoothed for me the path of knowledge and made the most abstruse +inquiries clear and facile to my apprehension. My application was at +first fluctuating and uncertain; it gained strength as I proceeded and +soon became so ardent and eager that the stars often disappeared in the +light of morning whilst I was yet engaged in my laboratory. + +As I applied so closely, it may be easily conceived that my progress +was rapid. My ardour was indeed the astonishment of the students, and +my proficiency that of the masters. Professor Krempe often asked me, +with a sly smile, how Cornelius Agrippa went on, whilst M. Waldman +expressed the most heartfelt exultation in my progress. Two years +passed in this manner, during which I paid no visit to Geneva, but was +engaged, heart and soul, in the pursuit of some discoveries which I +hoped to make. None but those who have experienced them can conceive +of the enticements of science. In other studies you go as far as +others have gone before you, and there is nothing more to know; but in +a scientific pursuit there is continual food for discovery and wonder. +A mind of moderate capacity which closely pursues one study must +infallibly arrive at great proficiency in that study; and I, who +continually sought the attainment of one object of pursuit and was +solely wrapped up in this, improved so rapidly that at the end of two +years I made some discoveries in the improvement of some chemical +instruments, which procured me great esteem and admiration at the +university. When I had arrived at this point and had become as well +acquainted with the theory and practice of natural philosophy as +depended on the lessons of any of the professors at Ingolstadt, my +residence there being no longer conducive to my improvements, I thought +of returning to my friends and my native town, when an incident +happened that protracted my stay. + +One of the phenomena which had peculiarly attracted my attention was +the structure of the human frame, and, indeed, any animal endued with +life. Whence, I often asked myself, did the principle of life proceed? +It was a bold question, and one which has ever been considered as a +mystery; yet with how many things are we upon the brink of becoming +acquainted, if cowardice or carelessness did not restrain our +inquiries. I revolved these circumstances in my mind and determined +thenceforth to apply myself more particularly to those branches of +natural philosophy which relate to physiology. Unless I had been +animated by an almost supernatural enthusiasm, my application to this +study would have been irksome and almost intolerable. To examine the +causes of life, we must first have recourse to death. I became +acquainted with the science of anatomy, but this was not sufficient; I +must also observe the natural decay and corruption of the human body. +In my education my father had taken the greatest precautions that my +mind should be impressed with no supernatural horrors. I do not ever +remember to have trembled at a tale of superstition or to have feared +the apparition of a spirit. Darkness had no effect upon my fancy, and +a churchyard was to me merely the receptacle of bodies deprived of +life, which, from being the seat of beauty and strength, had become +food for the worm. Now I was led to examine the cause and progress of +this decay and forced to spend days and nights in vaults and +charnel-houses. My attention was fixed upon every object the most +insupportable to the delicacy of the human feelings. I saw how the +fine form of man was degraded and wasted; I beheld the corruption of +death succeed to the blooming cheek of life; I saw how the worm +inherited the wonders of the eye and brain. I paused, examining and +analysing all the minutiae of causation, as exemplified in the change +from life to death, and death to life, until from the midst of this +darkness a sudden light broke in upon me--a light so brilliant and +wondrous, yet so simple, that while I became dizzy with the immensity +of the prospect which it illustrated, I was surprised that among so +many men of genius who had directed their inquiries towards the same +science, that I alone should be reserved to discover so astonishing a +secret. + +Remember, I am not recording the vision of a madman. The sun does not +more certainly shine in the heavens than that which I now affirm is +true. Some miracle might have produced it, yet the stages of the +discovery were distinct and probable. After days and nights of +incredible labour and fatigue, I succeeded in discovering the cause of +generation and life; nay, more, I became myself capable of bestowing +animation upon lifeless matter. + +The astonishment which I had at first experienced on this discovery +soon gave place to delight and rapture. After so much time spent in +painful labour, to arrive at once at the summit of my desires was the +most gratifying consummation of my toils. But this discovery was so +great and overwhelming that all the steps by which I had been +progressively led to it were obliterated, and I beheld only the result. +What had been the study and desire of the wisest men since the creation +of the world was now within my grasp. Not that, like a magic scene, it +all opened upon me at once: the information I had obtained was of a +nature rather to direct my endeavours so soon as I should point them +towards the object of my search than to exhibit that object already +accomplished. I was like the Arabian who had been buried with the dead +and found a passage to life, aided only by one glimmering and seemingly +ineffectual light. + +I see by your eagerness and the wonder and hope which your eyes +express, my friend, that you expect to be informed of the secret with +which I am acquainted; that cannot be; listen patiently until the end +of my story, and you will easily perceive why I am reserved upon that +subject. I will not lead you on, unguarded and ardent as I then was, +to your destruction and infallible misery. Learn from me, if not by my +precepts, at least by my example, how dangerous is the acquirement of +knowledge and how much happier that man is who believes his native town +to be the world, than he who aspires to become greater than his nature +will allow. + +When I found so astonishing a power placed within my hands, I hesitated +a long time concerning the manner in which I should employ it. +Although I possessed the capacity of bestowing animation, yet to +prepare a frame for the reception of it, with all its intricacies of +fibres, muscles, and veins, still remained a work of inconceivable +difficulty and labour. I doubted at first whether I should attempt the +creation of a being like myself, or one of simpler organization; but my +imagination was too much exalted by my first success to permit me to +doubt of my ability to give life to an animal as complex and wonderful +as man. The materials at present within my command hardly appeared +adequate to so arduous an undertaking, but I doubted not that I should +ultimately succeed. I prepared myself for a multitude of reverses; my +operations might be incessantly baffled, and at last my work be +imperfect, yet when I considered the improvement which every day takes +place in science and mechanics, I was encouraged to hope my present +attempts would at least lay the foundations of future success. Nor +could I consider the magnitude and complexity of my plan as any +argument of its impracticability. It was with these feelings that I +began the creation of a human being. As the minuteness of the parts +formed a great hindrance to my speed, I resolved, contrary to my first +intention, to make the being of a gigantic stature, that is to say, +about eight feet in height, and proportionably large. After having +formed this determination and having spent some months in successfully +collecting and arranging my materials, I began. + +No one can conceive the variety of feelings which bore me onwards, like +a hurricane, in the first enthusiasm of success. Life and death +appeared to me ideal bounds, which I should first break through, and +pour a torrent of light into our dark world. A new species would bless +me as its creator and source; many happy and excellent natures would +owe their being to me. No father could claim the gratitude of his +child so completely as I should deserve theirs. Pursuing these +reflections, I thought that if I could bestow animation upon lifeless +matter, I might in process of time (although I now found it impossible) +renew life where death had apparently devoted the body to corruption. + +These thoughts supported my spirits, while I pursued my undertaking +with unremitting ardour. My cheek had grown pale with study, and my +person had become emaciated with confinement. Sometimes, on the very +brink of certainty, I failed; yet still I clung to the hope which the +next day or the next hour might realize. One secret which I alone +possessed was the hope to which I had dedicated myself; and the moon +gazed on my midnight labours, while, with unrelaxed and breathless +eagerness, I pursued nature to her hiding-places. Who shall conceive +the horrors of my secret toil as I dabbled among the unhallowed damps +of the grave or tortured the living animal to animate the lifeless +clay? My limbs now tremble, and my eyes swim with the remembrance; but +then a resistless and almost frantic impulse urged me forward; I seemed +to have lost all soul or sensation but for this one pursuit. It was +indeed but a passing trance, that only made me feel with renewed +acuteness so soon as, the unnatural stimulus ceasing to operate, I had +returned to my old habits. I collected bones from charnel-houses and +disturbed, with profane fingers, the tremendous secrets of the human +frame. In a solitary chamber, or rather cell, at the top of the house, +and separated from all the other apartments by a gallery and staircase, +I kept my workshop of filthy creation; my eyeballs were starting from +their sockets in attending to the details of my employment. The +dissecting room and the slaughter-house furnished many of my materials; +and often did my human nature turn with loathing from my occupation, +whilst, still urged on by an eagerness which perpetually increased, I +brought my work near to a conclusion. + +The summer months passed while I was thus engaged, heart and soul, in +one pursuit. It was a most beautiful season; never did the fields +bestow a more plentiful harvest or the vines yield a more luxuriant +vintage, but my eyes were insensible to the charms of nature. And the +same feelings which made me neglect the scenes around me caused me also +to forget those friends who were so many miles absent, and whom I had +not seen for so long a time. I knew my silence disquieted them, and I +well remembered the words of my father: "I know that while you are +pleased with yourself you will think of us with affection, and we shall +hear regularly from you. You must pardon me if I regard any +interruption in your correspondence as a proof that your other duties +are equally neglected." + +I knew well therefore what would be my father's feelings, but I could +not tear my thoughts from my employment, loathsome in itself, but which +had taken an irresistible hold of my imagination. I wished, as it +were, to procrastinate all that related to my feelings of affection +until the great object, which swallowed up every habit of my nature, +should be completed. + +I then thought that my father would be unjust if he ascribed my neglect +to vice or faultiness on my part, but I am now convinced that he was +justified in conceiving that I should not be altogether free from +blame. A human being in perfection ought always to preserve a calm and +peaceful mind and never to allow passion or a transitory desire to +disturb his tranquillity. I do not think that the pursuit of knowledge +is an exception to this rule. If the study to which you apply yourself +has a tendency to weaken your affections and to destroy your taste for +those simple pleasures in which no alloy can possibly mix, then that +study is certainly unlawful, that is to say, not befitting the human +mind. If this rule were always observed; if no man allowed any pursuit +whatsoever to interfere with the tranquillity of his domestic +affections, Greece had not been enslaved, Caesar would have spared his +country, America would have been discovered more gradually, and the +empires of Mexico and Peru had not been destroyed. + +But I forget that I am moralizing in the most interesting part of my +tale, and your looks remind me to proceed. My father made no reproach +in his letters and only took notice of my silence by inquiring into my +occupations more particularly than before. Winter, spring, and summer +passed away during my labours; but I did not watch the blossom or the +expanding leaves--sights which before always yielded me supreme +delight--so deeply was I engrossed in my occupation. The leaves of +that year had withered before my work drew near to a close, and now +every day showed me more plainly how well I had succeeded. But my +enthusiasm was checked by my anxiety, and I appeared rather like one +doomed by slavery to toil in the mines, or any other unwholesome trade +than an artist occupied by his favourite employment. Every night I was +oppressed by a slow fever, and I became nervous to a most painful +degree; the fall of a leaf startled me, and I shunned my fellow +creatures as if I had been guilty of a crime. Sometimes I grew alarmed +at the wreck I perceived that I had become; the energy of my purpose +alone sustained me: my labours would soon end, and I believed that +exercise and amusement would then drive away incipient disease; and I +promised myself both of these when my creation should be complete. + + + +Chapter 5 + +It was on a dreary night of November that I beheld the accomplishment +of my toils. With an anxiety that almost amounted to agony, I +collected the instruments of life around me, that I might infuse a +spark of being into the lifeless thing that lay at my feet. It was +already one in the morning; the rain pattered dismally against the +panes, and my candle was nearly burnt out, when, by the glimmer of the +half-extinguished light, I saw the dull yellow eye of the creature +open; it breathed hard, and a convulsive motion agitated its limbs. + +How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how delineate +the wretch whom with such infinite pains and care I had endeavoured to +form? His limbs were in proportion, and I had selected his features as +beautiful. Beautiful! Great God! His yellow skin scarcely covered +the work of muscles and arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous +black, and flowing; his teeth of a pearly whiteness; but these +luxuriances only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, +that seemed almost of the same colour as the dun-white sockets in which +they were set, his shrivelled complexion and straight black lips. + +The different accidents of life are not so changeable as the feelings +of human nature. I had worked hard for nearly two years, for the sole +purpose of infusing life into an inanimate body. For this I had +deprived myself of rest and health. I had desired it with an ardour +that far exceeded moderation; but now that I had finished, the beauty +of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my +heart. Unable to endure the aspect of the being I had created, I +rushed out of the room and continued a long time traversing my +bed-chamber, unable to compose my mind to sleep. At length lassitude +succeeded to the tumult I had before endured, and I threw myself on the +bed in my clothes, endeavouring to seek a few moments of forgetfulness. +But it was in vain; I slept, indeed, but I was disturbed by the wildest +dreams. I thought I saw Elizabeth, in the bloom of health, walking in +the streets of Ingolstadt. Delighted and surprised, I embraced her, +but as I imprinted the first kiss on her lips, they became livid with +the hue of death; her features appeared to change, and I thought that I +held the corpse of my dead mother in my arms; a shroud enveloped her +form, and I saw the grave-worms crawling in the folds of the flannel. +I started from my sleep with horror; a cold dew covered my forehead, my +teeth chattered, and every limb became convulsed; when, by the dim and +yellow light of the moon, as it forced its way through the window +shutters, I beheld the wretch--the miserable monster whom I had +created. He held up the curtain of the bed; and his eyes, if eyes they +may be called, were fixed on me. His jaws opened, and he muttered some +inarticulate sounds, while a grin wrinkled his cheeks. He might have +spoken, but I did not hear; one hand was stretched out, seemingly to +detain me, but I escaped and rushed downstairs. I took refuge in the +courtyard belonging to the house which I inhabited, where I remained +during the rest of the night, walking up and down in the greatest +agitation, listening attentively, catching and fearing each sound as if +it were to announce the approach of the demoniacal corpse to which I +had so miserably given life. + +Oh! No mortal could support the horror of that countenance. A mummy +again endued with animation could not be so hideous as that wretch. I +had gazed on him while unfinished; he was ugly then, but when those +muscles and joints were rendered capable of motion, it became a thing +such as even Dante could not have conceived. + +I passed the night wretchedly. Sometimes my pulse beat so quickly and +hardly that I felt the palpitation of every artery; at others, I nearly +sank to the ground through languor and extreme weakness. Mingled with +this horror, I felt the bitterness of disappointment; dreams that had +been my food and pleasant rest for so long a space were now become a +hell to me; and the change was so rapid, the overthrow so complete! + +Morning, dismal and wet, at length dawned and discovered to my +sleepless and aching eyes the church of Ingolstadt, its white steeple +and clock, which indicated the sixth hour. The porter opened the gates +of the court, which had that night been my asylum, and I issued into +the streets, pacing them with quick steps, as if I sought to avoid the +wretch whom I feared every turning of the street would present to my +view. I did not dare return to the apartment which I inhabited, but +felt impelled to hurry on, although drenched by the rain which poured +from a black and comfortless sky. + +I continued walking in this manner for some time, endeavouring by +bodily exercise to ease the load that weighed upon my mind. I +traversed the streets without any clear conception of where I was or +what I was doing. My heart palpitated in the sickness of fear, and I +hurried on with irregular steps, not daring to look about me: + + + Like one who, on a lonely road, + Doth walk in fear and dread, + And, having once turned round, walks on, + And turns no more his head; + Because he knows a frightful fiend + Doth close behind him tread. + + [Coleridge's "Ancient Mariner."] + + +Continuing thus, I came at length opposite to the inn at which the +various diligences and carriages usually stopped. Here I paused, I +knew not why; but I remained some minutes with my eyes fixed on a coach +that was coming towards me from the other end of the street. As it +drew nearer I observed that it was the Swiss diligence; it stopped just +where I was standing, and on the door being opened, I perceived Henry +Clerval, who, on seeing me, instantly sprung out. "My dear +Frankenstein," exclaimed he, "how glad I am to see you! How fortunate +that you should be here at the very moment of my alighting!" + +Nothing could equal my delight on seeing Clerval; his presence brought +back to my thoughts my father, Elizabeth, and all those scenes of home +so dear to my recollection. I grasped his hand, and in a moment forgot +my horror and misfortune; I felt suddenly, and for the first time +during many months, calm and serene joy. I welcomed my friend, +therefore, in the most cordial manner, and we walked towards my +college. Clerval continued talking for some time about our mutual +friends and his own good fortune in being permitted to come to +Ingolstadt. "You may easily believe," said he, "how great was the +difficulty to persuade my father that all necessary knowledge was not +comprised in the noble art of book-keeping; and, indeed, I believe I +left him incredulous to the last, for his constant answer to my +unwearied entreaties was the same as that of the Dutch schoolmaster in +The Vicar of Wakefield: 'I have ten thousand florins a year without +Greek, I eat heartily without Greek.' But his affection for me at +length overcame his dislike of learning, and he has permitted me to +undertake a voyage of discovery to the land of knowledge." + +"It gives me the greatest delight to see you; but tell me how you left +my father, brothers, and Elizabeth." + +"Very well, and very happy, only a little uneasy that they hear from +you so seldom. By the by, I mean to lecture you a little upon their +account myself. But, my dear Frankenstein," continued he, stopping +short and gazing full in my face, "I did not before remark how very ill +you appear; so thin and pale; you look as if you had been watching for +several nights." + +"You have guessed right; I have lately been so deeply engaged in one +occupation that I have not allowed myself sufficient rest, as you see; +but I hope, I sincerely hope, that all these employments are now at an +end and that I am at length free." + +I trembled excessively; I could not endure to think of, and far less to +allude to, the occurrences of the preceding night. I walked with a +quick pace, and we soon arrived at my college. I then reflected, and +the thought made me shiver, that the creature whom I had left in my +apartment might still be there, alive and walking about. I dreaded to +behold this monster, but I feared still more that Henry should see him. +Entreating him, therefore, to remain a few minutes at the bottom of the +stairs, I darted up towards my own room. My hand was already on the +lock of the door before I recollected myself. I then paused, and a +cold shivering came over me. I threw the door forcibly open, as +children are accustomed to do when they expect a spectre to stand in +waiting for them on the other side; but nothing appeared. I stepped +fearfully in: the apartment was empty, and my bedroom was also freed +from its hideous guest. I could hardly believe that so great a good +fortune could have befallen me, but when I became assured that my enemy +had indeed fled, I clapped my hands for joy and ran down to Clerval. + +We ascended into my room, and the servant presently brought breakfast; +but I was unable to contain myself. It was not joy only that possessed +me; I felt my flesh tingle with excess of sensitiveness, and my pulse +beat rapidly. I was unable to remain for a single instant in the same +place; I jumped over the chairs, clapped my hands, and laughed aloud. +Clerval at first attributed my unusual spirits to joy on his arrival, +but when he observed me more attentively, he saw a wildness in my eyes +for which he could not account, and my loud, unrestrained, heartless +laughter frightened and astonished him. + +"My dear Victor," cried he, "what, for God's sake, is the matter? Do +not laugh in that manner. How ill you are! What is the cause of all +this?" + +"Do not ask me," cried I, putting my hands before my eyes, for I +thought I saw the dreaded spectre glide into the room; "HE can tell. +Oh, save me! Save me!" I imagined that the monster seized me; I +struggled furiously and fell down in a fit. + +Poor Clerval! What must have been his feelings? A meeting, which he +anticipated with such joy, so strangely turned to bitterness. But I +was not the witness of his grief, for I was lifeless and did not +recover my senses for a long, long time. + +This was the commencement of a nervous fever which confined me for +several months. During all that time Henry was my only nurse. I +afterwards learned that, knowing my father's advanced age and unfitness +for so long a journey, and how wretched my sickness would make +Elizabeth, he spared them this grief by concealing the extent of my +disorder. He knew that I could not have a more kind and attentive +nurse than himself; and, firm in the hope he felt of my recovery, he +did not doubt that, instead of doing harm, he performed the kindest +action that he could towards them. + +But I was in reality very ill, and surely nothing but the unbounded and +unremitting attentions of my friend could have restored me to life. +The form of the monster on whom I had bestowed existence was forever +before my eyes, and I raved incessantly concerning him. Doubtless my +words surprised Henry; he at first believed them to be the wanderings +of my disturbed imagination, but the pertinacity with which I +continually recurred to the same subject persuaded him that my disorder +indeed owed its origin to some uncommon and terrible event. + +By very slow degrees, and with frequent relapses that alarmed and +grieved my friend, I recovered. I remember the first time I became +capable of observing outward objects with any kind of pleasure, I +perceived that the fallen leaves had disappeared and that the young +buds were shooting forth from the trees that shaded my window. It was +a divine spring, and the season contributed greatly to my +convalescence. I felt also sentiments of joy and affection revive in +my bosom; my gloom disappeared, and in a short time I became as +cheerful as before I was attacked by the fatal passion. + +"Dearest Clerval," exclaimed I, "how kind, how very good you are to me. +This whole winter, instead of being spent in study, as you promised +yourself, has been consumed in my sick room. How shall I ever repay +you? I feel the greatest remorse for the disappointment of which I +have been the occasion, but you will forgive me." + +"You will repay me entirely if you do not discompose yourself, but get +well as fast as you can; and since you appear in such good spirits, I +may speak to you on one subject, may I not?" + +I trembled. One subject! What could it be? Could he allude to an +object on whom I dared not even think? "Compose yourself," said +Clerval, who observed my change of colour, "I will not mention it if it +agitates you; but your father and cousin would be very happy if they +received a letter from you in your own handwriting. They hardly know +how ill you have been and are uneasy at your long silence." + +"Is that all, my dear Henry? How could you suppose that my first +thought would not fly towards those dear, dear friends whom I love and +who are so deserving of my love?" + +"If this is your present temper, my friend, you will perhaps be glad to +see a letter that has been lying here some days for you; it is from +your cousin, I believe." + + + +Chapter 6 + +Clerval then put the following letter into my hands. It was from my +own Elizabeth: + +"My dearest Cousin, + +"You have been ill, very ill, and even the constant letters of dear +kind Henry are not sufficient to reassure me on your account. You are +forbidden to write--to hold a pen; yet one word from you, dear Victor, +is necessary to calm our apprehensions. For a long time I have thought +that each post would bring this line, and my persuasions have +restrained my uncle from undertaking a journey to Ingolstadt. I have +prevented his encountering the inconveniences and perhaps dangers of so +long a journey, yet how often have I regretted not being able to +perform it myself! I figure to myself that the task of attending on +your sickbed has devolved on some mercenary old nurse, who could never +guess your wishes nor minister to them with the care and affection of +your poor cousin. Yet that is over now: Clerval writes that indeed +you are getting better. I eagerly hope that you will confirm this +intelligence soon in your own handwriting. + +"Get well--and return to us. You will find a happy, cheerful home and +friends who love you dearly. Your father's health is vigorous, and he +asks but to see you, but to be assured that you are well; and not a +care will ever cloud his benevolent countenance. How pleased you would +be to remark the improvement of our Ernest! He is now sixteen and full +of activity and spirit. He is desirous to be a true Swiss and to enter +into foreign service, but we cannot part with him, at least until his +elder brother returns to us. My uncle is not pleased with the idea of +a military career in a distant country, but Ernest never had your +powers of application. He looks upon study as an odious fetter; his +time is spent in the open air, climbing the hills or rowing on the +lake. I fear that he will become an idler unless we yield the point +and permit him to enter on the profession which he has selected. + +"Little alteration, except the growth of our dear children, has taken +place since you left us. The blue lake and snow-clad mountains--they +never change; and I think our placid home and our contented hearts are +regulated by the same immutable laws. My trifling occupations take up +my time and amuse me, and I am rewarded for any exertions by seeing +none but happy, kind faces around me. Since you left us, but one +change has taken place in our little household. Do you remember on +what occasion Justine Moritz entered our family? Probably you do not; +I will relate her history, therefore in a few words. Madame Moritz, +her mother, was a widow with four children, of whom Justine was the +third. This girl had always been the favourite of her father, but +through a strange perversity, her mother could not endure her, and +after the death of M. Moritz, treated her very ill. My aunt observed +this, and when Justine was twelve years of age, prevailed on her mother +to allow her to live at our house. The republican institutions of our +country have produced simpler and happier manners than those which +prevail in the great monarchies that surround it. Hence there is less +distinction between the several classes of its inhabitants; and the +lower orders, being neither so poor nor so despised, their manners are +more refined and moral. A servant in Geneva does not mean the same +thing as a servant in France and England. Justine, thus received in +our family, learned the duties of a servant, a condition which, in our +fortunate country, does not include the idea of ignorance and a +sacrifice of the dignity of a human being. + +"Justine, you may remember, was a great favourite of yours; and I +recollect you once remarked that if you were in an ill humour, one +glance from Justine could dissipate it, for the same reason that +Ariosto gives concerning the beauty of Angelica--she looked so +frank-hearted and happy. My aunt conceived a great attachment for her, +by which she was induced to give her an education superior to that +which she had at first intended. This benefit was fully repaid; +Justine was the most grateful little creature in the world: I do not +mean that she made any professions I never heard one pass her lips, but +you could see by her eyes that she almost adored her protectress. +Although her disposition was gay and in many respects inconsiderate, +yet she paid the greatest attention to every gesture of my aunt. She +thought her the model of all excellence and endeavoured to imitate her +phraseology and manners, so that even now she often reminds me of her. + +"When my dearest aunt died every one was too much occupied in their own +grief to notice poor Justine, who had attended her during her illness +with the most anxious affection. Poor Justine was very ill; but other +trials were reserved for her. + +"One by one, her brothers and sister died; and her mother, with the +exception of her neglected daughter, was left childless. The +conscience of the woman was troubled; she began to think that the +deaths of her favourites was a judgement from heaven to chastise her +partiality. She was a Roman Catholic; and I believe her confessor +confirmed the idea which she had conceived. Accordingly, a few months +after your departure for Ingolstadt, Justine was called home by her +repentant mother. Poor girl! She wept when she quitted our house; she +was much altered since the death of my aunt; grief had given softness +and a winning mildness to her manners, which had before been remarkable +for vivacity. Nor was her residence at her mother's house of a nature +to restore her gaiety. The poor woman was very vacillating in her +repentance. She sometimes begged Justine to forgive her unkindness, +but much oftener accused her of having caused the deaths of her +brothers and sister. Perpetual fretting at length threw Madame Moritz +into a decline, which at first increased her irritability, but she is +now at peace for ever. She died on the first approach of cold weather, +at the beginning of this last winter. Justine has just returned to us; +and I assure you I love her tenderly. She is very clever and gentle, +and extremely pretty; as I mentioned before, her mien and her +expression continually remind me of my dear aunt. + +"I must say also a few words to you, my dear cousin, of little darling +William. I wish you could see him; he is very tall of his age, with +sweet laughing blue eyes, dark eyelashes, and curling hair. When he +smiles, two little dimples appear on each cheek, which are rosy with +health. He has already had one or two little WIVES, but Louisa Biron +is his favourite, a pretty little girl of five years of age. + +"Now, dear Victor, I dare say you wish to be indulged in a little +gossip concerning the good people of Geneva. The pretty Miss Mansfield +has already received the congratulatory visits on her approaching +marriage with a young Englishman, John Melbourne, Esq. Her ugly +sister, Manon, married M. Duvillard, the rich banker, last autumn. Your +favourite schoolfellow, Louis Manoir, has suffered several misfortunes +since the departure of Clerval from Geneva. But he has already +recovered his spirits, and is reported to be on the point of marrying a +lively pretty Frenchwoman, Madame Tavernier. She is a widow, and much +older than Manoir; but she is very much admired, and a favourite with +everybody. + +"I have written myself into better spirits, dear cousin; but my anxiety +returns upon me as I conclude. Write, dearest Victor,--one line--one +word will be a blessing to us. Ten thousand thanks to Henry for his +kindness, his affection, and his many letters; we are sincerely +grateful. Adieu! my cousin; take care of your self; and, I entreat +you, write! + +"Elizabeth Lavenza. + +"Geneva, March 18, 17--." + + +"Dear, dear Elizabeth!" I exclaimed, when I had read her letter: "I +will write instantly and relieve them from the anxiety they must feel." +I wrote, and this exertion greatly fatigued me; but my convalescence +had commenced, and proceeded regularly. In another fortnight I was +able to leave my chamber. + +One of my first duties on my recovery was to introduce Clerval to the +several professors of the university. In doing this, I underwent a +kind of rough usage, ill befitting the wounds that my mind had +sustained. Ever since the fatal night, the end of my labours, and the +beginning of my misfortunes, I had conceived a violent antipathy even +to the name of natural philosophy. When I was otherwise quite restored +to health, the sight of a chemical instrument would renew all the agony +of my nervous symptoms. Henry saw this, and had removed all my +apparatus from my view. He had also changed my apartment; for he +perceived that I had acquired a dislike for the room which had +previously been my laboratory. But these cares of Clerval were made of +no avail when I visited the professors. M. Waldman inflicted torture +when he praised, with kindness and warmth, the astonishing progress I +had made in the sciences. He soon perceived that I disliked the +subject; but not guessing the real cause, he attributed my feelings to +modesty, and changed the subject from my improvement, to the science +itself, with a desire, as I evidently saw, of drawing me out. What +could I do? He meant to please, and he tormented me. I felt as if he +had placed carefully, one by one, in my view those instruments which +were to be afterwards used in putting me to a slow and cruel death. I +writhed under his words, yet dared not exhibit the pain I felt. +Clerval, whose eyes and feelings were always quick in discerning the +sensations of others, declined the subject, alleging, in excuse, his +total ignorance; and the conversation took a more general turn. I +thanked my friend from my heart, but I did not speak. I saw plainly +that he was surprised, but he never attempted to draw my secret from +me; and although I loved him with a mixture of affection and reverence +that knew no bounds, yet I could never persuade myself to confide in +him that event which was so often present to my recollection, but which +I feared the detail to another would only impress more deeply. + +M. Krempe was not equally docile; and in my condition at that time, of +almost insupportable sensitiveness, his harsh blunt encomiums gave me +even more pain than the benevolent approbation of M. Waldman. "D--n +the fellow!" cried he; "why, M. Clerval, I assure you he has outstript +us all. Ay, stare if you please; but it is nevertheless true. A +youngster who, but a few years ago, believed in Cornelius Agrippa as +firmly as in the gospel, has now set himself at the head of the +university; and if he is not soon pulled down, we shall all be out of +countenance.--Ay, ay," continued he, observing my face expressive of +suffering, "M. Frankenstein is modest; an excellent quality in a young +man. Young men should be diffident of themselves, you know, M. +Clerval: I was myself when young; but that wears out in a very short +time." + +M. Krempe had now commenced an eulogy on himself, which happily turned +the conversation from a subject that was so annoying to me. + +Clerval had never sympathized in my tastes for natural science; and his +literary pursuits differed wholly from those which had occupied me. He +came to the university with the design of making himself complete +master of the oriental languages, and thus he should open a field for +the plan of life he had marked out for himself. Resolved to pursue no +inglorious career, he turned his eyes toward the East, as affording +scope for his spirit of enterprise. The Persian, Arabic, and Sanskrit +languages engaged his attention, and I was easily induced to enter on +the same studies. Idleness had ever been irksome to me, and now that I +wished to fly from reflection, and hated my former studies, I felt +great relief in being the fellow-pupil with my friend, and found not +only instruction but consolation in the works of the orientalists. I +did not, like him, attempt a critical knowledge of their dialects, for +I did not contemplate making any other use of them than temporary +amusement. I read merely to understand their meaning, and they well +repaid my labours. Their melancholy is soothing, and their joy +elevating, to a degree I never experienced in studying the authors of +any other country. When you read their writings, life appears to +consist in a warm sun and a garden of roses,--in the smiles and frowns +of a fair enemy, and the fire that consumes your own heart. How +different from the manly and heroical poetry of Greece and Rome! + +Summer passed away in these occupations, and my return to Geneva was +fixed for the latter end of autumn; but being delayed by several +accidents, winter and snow arrived, the roads were deemed impassable, +and my journey was retarded until the ensuing spring. I felt this +delay very bitterly; for I longed to see my native town and my beloved +friends. My return had only been delayed so long, from an +unwillingness to leave Clerval in a strange place, before he had become +acquainted with any of its inhabitants. The winter, however, was spent +cheerfully; and although the spring was uncommonly late, when it came +its beauty compensated for its dilatoriness. + +The month of May had already commenced, and I expected the letter daily +which was to fix the date of my departure, when Henry proposed a +pedestrian tour in the environs of Ingolstadt, that I might bid a +personal farewell to the country I had so long inhabited. I acceded +with pleasure to this proposition: I was fond of exercise, and Clerval +had always been my favourite companion in the ramble of this nature +that I had taken among the scenes of my native country. + +We passed a fortnight in these perambulations: my health and spirits +had long been restored, and they gained additional strength from the +salubrious air I breathed, the natural incidents of our progress, and +the conversation of my friend. Study had before secluded me from the +intercourse of my fellow-creatures, and rendered me unsocial; but +Clerval called forth the better feelings of my heart; he again taught +me to love the aspect of nature, and the cheerful faces of children. +Excellent friend! how sincerely you did love me, and endeavour to +elevate my mind until it was on a level with your own. A selfish +pursuit had cramped and narrowed me, until your gentleness and +affection warmed and opened my senses; I became the same happy creature +who, a few years ago, loved and beloved by all, had no sorrow or care. +When happy, inanimate nature had the power of bestowing on me the most +delightful sensations. A serene sky and verdant fields filled me with +ecstasy. The present season was indeed divine; the flowers of spring +bloomed in the hedges, while those of summer were already in bud. I +was undisturbed by thoughts which during the preceding year had pressed +upon me, notwithstanding my endeavours to throw them off, with an +invincible burden. + +Henry rejoiced in my gaiety, and sincerely sympathised in my feelings: +he exerted himself to amuse me, while he expressed the sensations that +filled his soul. The resources of his mind on this occasion were truly +astonishing: his conversation was full of imagination; and very often, +in imitation of the Persian and Arabic writers, he invented tales of +wonderful fancy and passion. At other times he repeated my favourite +poems, or drew me out into arguments, which he supported with great +ingenuity. We returned to our college on a Sunday afternoon: the +peasants were dancing, and every one we met appeared gay and happy. My +own spirits were high, and I bounded along with feelings of unbridled +joy and hilarity. + + + +Chapter 7 + +On my return, I found the following letter from my father:-- + + +"My dear Victor, + +"You have probably waited impatiently for a letter to fix the date of +your return to us; and I was at first tempted to write only a few +lines, merely mentioning the day on which I should expect you. But +that would be a cruel kindness, and I dare not do it. What would be +your surprise, my son, when you expected a happy and glad welcome, to +behold, on the contrary, tears and wretchedness? And how, Victor, can +I relate our misfortune? Absence cannot have rendered you callous to +our joys and griefs; and how shall I inflict pain on my long absent +son? I wish to prepare you for the woeful news, but I know it is +impossible; even now your eye skims over the page to seek the words +which are to convey to you the horrible tidings. + +"William is dead!--that sweet child, whose smiles delighted and warmed +my heart, who was so gentle, yet so gay! Victor, he is murdered! + +"I will not attempt to console you; but will simply relate the +circumstances of the transaction. + +"Last Thursday (May 7th), I, my niece, and your two brothers, went to +walk in Plainpalais. The evening was warm and serene, and we prolonged +our walk farther than usual. It was already dusk before we thought of +returning; and then we discovered that William and Ernest, who had gone +on before, were not to be found. We accordingly rested on a seat until +they should return. Presently Ernest came, and enquired if we had seen +his brother; he said, that he had been playing with him, that William +had run away to hide himself, and that he vainly sought for him, and +afterwards waited for a long time, but that he did not return. + +"This account rather alarmed us, and we continued to search for him +until night fell, when Elizabeth conjectured that he might have +returned to the house. He was not there. We returned again, with +torches; for I could not rest, when I thought that my sweet boy had +lost himself, and was exposed to all the damps and dews of night; +Elizabeth also suffered extreme anguish. About five in the morning I +discovered my lovely boy, whom the night before I had seen blooming and +active in health, stretched on the grass livid and motionless; the +print of the murder's finger was on his neck. + +"He was conveyed home, and the anguish that was visible in my +countenance betrayed the secret to Elizabeth. She was very earnest to +see the corpse. At first I attempted to prevent her but she persisted, +and entering the room where it lay, hastily examined the neck of the +victim, and clasping her hands exclaimed, 'O God! I have murdered my +darling child!' + +"She fainted, and was restored with extreme difficulty. When she again +lived, it was only to weep and sigh. She told me, that that same +evening William had teased her to let him wear a very valuable +miniature that she possessed of your mother. This picture is gone, and +was doubtless the temptation which urged the murderer to the deed. We +have no trace of him at present, although our exertions to discover him +are unremitted; but they will not restore my beloved William! + +"Come, dearest Victor; you alone can console Elizabeth. She weeps +continually, and accuses herself unjustly as the cause of his death; +her words pierce my heart. We are all unhappy; but will not that be an +additional motive for you, my son, to return and be our comforter? +Your dear mother! Alas, Victor! I now say, Thank God she did not live +to witness the cruel, miserable death of her youngest darling! + +"Come, Victor; not brooding thoughts of vengeance against the assassin, +but with feelings of peace and gentleness, that will heal, instead of +festering, the wounds of our minds. Enter the house of mourning, my +friend, but with kindness and affection for those who love you, and not +with hatred for your enemies. + + "Your affectionate and afflicted father, + "Alphonse Frankenstein. + + + +"Geneva, May 12th, 17--." + +Clerval, who had watched my countenance as I read this letter, was +surprised to observe the despair that succeeded the joy I at first +expressed on receiving new from my friends. I threw the letter on the +table, and covered my face with my hands. + +"My dear Frankenstein," exclaimed Henry, when he perceived me weep with +bitterness, "are you always to be unhappy? My dear friend, what has +happened?" + +I motioned him to take up the letter, while I walked up and down the +room in the extremest agitation. Tears also gushed from the eyes of +Clerval, as he read the account of my misfortune. + +"I can offer you no consolation, my friend," said he; "your disaster is +irreparable. What do you intend to do?" + +"To go instantly to Geneva: come with me, Henry, to order the horses." + +During our walk, Clerval endeavoured to say a few words of consolation; +he could only express his heartfelt sympathy. "Poor William!" said he, +"dear lovely child, he now sleeps with his angel mother! Who that had +seen him bright and joyous in his young beauty, but must weep over his +untimely loss! To die so miserably; to feel the murderer's grasp! How +much more a murdered that could destroy radiant innocence! Poor little +fellow! one only consolation have we; his friends mourn and weep, but +he is at rest. The pang is over, his sufferings are at an end for ever. +A sod covers his gentle form, and he knows no pain. He can no longer +be a subject for pity; we must reserve that for his miserable +survivors." + +Clerval spoke thus as we hurried through the streets; the words +impressed themselves on my mind and I remembered them afterwards in +solitude. But now, as soon as the horses arrived, I hurried into a +cabriolet, and bade farewell to my friend. + +My journey was very melancholy. At first I wished to hurry on, for I +longed to console and sympathise with my loved and sorrowing friends; +but when I drew near my native town, I slackened my progress. I could +hardly sustain the multitude of feelings that crowded into my mind. I +passed through scenes familiar to my youth, but which I had not seen +for nearly six years. How altered every thing might be during that +time! One sudden and desolating change had taken place; but a thousand +little circumstances might have by degrees worked other alterations, +which, although they were done more tranquilly, might not be the less +decisive. Fear overcame me; I dared no advance, dreading a thousand +nameless evils that made me tremble, although I was unable to define +them. I remained two days at Lausanne, in this painful state of mind. +I contemplated the lake: the waters were placid; all around was calm; +and the snowy mountains, 'the palaces of nature,' were not changed. By +degrees the calm and heavenly scene restored me, and I continued my +journey towards Geneva. + +The road ran by the side of the lake, which became narrower as I +approached my native town. I discovered more distinctly the black +sides of Jura, and the bright summit of Mont Blanc. I wept like a +child. "Dear mountains! my own beautiful lake! how do you welcome your +wanderer? Your summits are clear; the sky and lake are blue and +placid. Is this to prognosticate peace, or to mock at my unhappiness?" + +I fear, my friend, that I shall render myself tedious by dwelling on +these preliminary circumstances; but they were days of comparative +happiness, and I think of them with pleasure. My country, my beloved +country! who but a native can tell the delight I took in again +beholding thy streams, thy mountains, and, more than all, thy lovely +lake! + +Yet, as I drew nearer home, grief and fear again overcame me. Night +also closed around; and when I could hardly see the dark mountains, I +felt still more gloomily. The picture appeared a vast and dim scene of +evil, and I foresaw obscurely that I was destined to become the most +wretched of human beings. Alas! I prophesied truly, and failed only +in one single circumstance, that in all the misery I imagined and +dreaded, I did not conceive the hundredth part of the anguish I was +destined to endure. It was completely dark when I arrived in the +environs of Geneva; the gates of the town were already shut; and I was +obliged to pass the night at Secheron, a village at the distance of +half a league from the city. The sky was serene; and, as I was unable +to rest, I resolved to visit the spot where my poor William had been +murdered. As I could not pass through the town, I was obliged to cross +the lake in a boat to arrive at Plainpalais. During this short voyage +I saw the lightning playing on the summit of Mont Blanc in the most +beautiful figures. The storm appeared to approach rapidly, and, on +landing, I ascended a low hill, that I might observe its progress. It +advanced; the heavens were clouded, and I soon felt the rain coming +slowly in large drops, but its violence quickly increased. + +I quitted my seat, and walked on, although the darkness and storm +increased every minute, and the thunder burst with a terrific crash +over my head. It was echoed from Saleve, the Juras, and the Alps of +Savoy; vivid flashes of lightning dazzled my eyes, illuminating the +lake, making it appear like a vast sheet of fire; then for an instant +every thing seemed of a pitchy darkness, until the eye recovered itself +from the preceding flash. The storm, as is often the case in +Switzerland, appeared at once in various parts of the heavens. The +most violent storm hung exactly north of the town, over the part of the +lake which lies between the promontory of Belrive and the village of +Copet. Another storm enlightened Jura with faint flashes; and another +darkened and sometimes disclosed the Mole, a peaked mountain to the +east of the lake. + +While I watched the tempest, so beautiful yet terrific, I wandered on +with a hasty step. This noble war in the sky elevated my spirits; I +clasped my hands, and exclaimed aloud, "William, dear angel! this is +thy funeral, this thy dirge!" As I said these words, I perceived in the +gloom a figure which stole from behind a clump of trees near me; I +stood fixed, gazing intently: I could not be mistaken. A flash of +lightning illuminated the object, and discovered its shape plainly to +me; its gigantic stature, and the deformity of its aspect more hideous +than belongs to humanity, instantly informed me that it was the wretch, +the filthy daemon, to whom I had given life. What did he there? Could +he be (I shuddered at the conception) the murderer of my brother? No +sooner did that idea cross my imagination, than I became convinced of +its truth; my teeth chattered, and I was forced to lean against a tree +for support. The figure passed me quickly, and I lost it in the gloom. + +Nothing in human shape could have destroyed the fair child. HE was the +murderer! I could not doubt it. The mere presence of the idea was an +irresistible proof of the fact. I thought of pursuing the devil; but +it would have been in vain, for another flash discovered him to me +hanging among the rocks of the nearly perpendicular ascent of Mont +Saleve, a hill that bounds Plainpalais on the south. He soon reached +the summit, and disappeared. + +I remained motionless. The thunder ceased; but the rain still +continued, and the scene was enveloped in an impenetrable darkness. I +revolved in my mind the events which I had until now sought to forget: +the whole train of my progress toward the creation; the appearance of +the works of my own hands at my bedside; its departure. Two years had +now nearly elapsed since the night on which he first received life; and +was this his first crime? Alas! I had turned loose into the world a +depraved wretch, whose delight was in carnage and misery; had he not +murdered my brother? + +No one can conceive the anguish I suffered during the remainder of the +night, which I spent, cold and wet, in the open air. But I did not +feel the inconvenience of the weather; my imagination was busy in +scenes of evil and despair. I considered the being whom I had cast +among mankind, and endowed with the will and power to effect purposes +of horror, such as the deed which he had now done, nearly in the light +of my own vampire, my own spirit let loose from the grave, and forced +to destroy all that was dear to me. + +Day dawned; and I directed my steps towards the town. The gates were +open, and I hastened to my father's house. My first thought was to +discover what I knew of the murderer, and cause instant pursuit to be +made. But I paused when I reflected on the story that I had to tell. A +being whom I myself had formed, and endued with life, had met me at +midnight among the precipices of an inaccessible mountain. I +remembered also the nervous fever with which I had been seized just at +the time that I dated my creation, and which would give an air of +delirium to a tale otherwise so utterly improbable. I well knew that +if any other had communicated such a relation to me, I should have +looked upon it as the ravings of insanity. Besides, the strange nature +of the animal would elude all pursuit, even if I were so far credited +as to persuade my relatives to commence it. And then of what use would +be pursuit? Who could arrest a creature capable of scaling the +overhanging sides of Mont Saleve? These reflections determined me, and +I resolved to remain silent. + +It was about five in the morning when I entered my father's house. I +told the servants not to disturb the family, and went into the library +to attend their usual hour of rising. + +Six years had elapsed, passed in a dream but for one indelible trace, +and I stood in the same place where I had last embraced my father +before my departure for Ingolstadt. Beloved and venerable parent! He +still remained to me. I gazed on the picture of my mother, which stood +over the mantel-piece. It was an historical subject, painted at my +father's desire, and represented Caroline Beaufort in an agony of +despair, kneeling by the coffin of her dead father. Her garb was +rustic, and her cheek pale; but there was an air of dignity and beauty, +that hardly permitted the sentiment of pity. Below this picture was a +miniature of William; and my tears flowed when I looked upon it. While +I was thus engaged, Ernest entered: he had heard me arrive, and +hastened to welcome me: "Welcome, my dearest Victor," said he. "Ah! I +wish you had come three months ago, and then you would have found us +all joyous and delighted. You come to us now to share a misery which +nothing can alleviate; yet your presence will, I hope, revive our +father, who seems sinking under his misfortune; and your persuasions +will induce poor Elizabeth to cease her vain and tormenting +self-accusations.--Poor William! he was our darling and our pride!" + +Tears, unrestrained, fell from my brother's eyes; a sense of mortal +agony crept over my frame. Before, I had only imagined the +wretchedness of my desolated home; the reality came on me as a new, and +a not less terrible, disaster. I tried to calm Ernest; I enquired more +minutely concerning my father, and here I named my cousin. + +"She most of all," said Ernest, "requires consolation; she accused +herself of having caused the death of my brother, and that made her +very wretched. But since the murderer has been discovered--" + +"The murderer discovered! Good God! how can that be? who could attempt +to pursue him? It is impossible; one might as well try to overtake the +winds, or confine a mountain-stream with a straw. I saw him too; he +was free last night!" + +"I do not know what you mean," replied my brother, in accents of +wonder, "but to us the discovery we have made completes our misery. No +one would believe it at first; and even now Elizabeth will not be +convinced, notwithstanding all the evidence. Indeed, who would credit +that Justine Moritz, who was so amiable, and fond of all the family, +could suddenly become so capable of so frightful, so appalling a crime?" + +"Justine Moritz! Poor, poor girl, is she the accused? But it is +wrongfully; every one knows that; no one believes it, surely, Ernest?" + +"No one did at first; but several circumstances came out, that have +almost forced conviction upon us; and her own behaviour has been so +confused, as to add to the evidence of facts a weight that, I fear, +leaves no hope for doubt. But she will be tried today, and you will +then hear all." + +He then related that, the morning on which the murder of poor William +had been discovered, Justine had been taken ill, and confined to her +bed for several days. During this interval, one of the servants, +happening to examine the apparel she had worn on the night of the +murder, had discovered in her pocket the picture of my mother, which +had been judged to be the temptation of the murderer. The servant +instantly showed it to one of the others, who, without saying a word to +any of the family, went to a magistrate; and, upon their deposition, +Justine was apprehended. On being charged with the fact, the poor girl +confirmed the suspicion in a great measure by her extreme confusion of +manner. + +This was a strange tale, but it did not shake my faith; and I replied +earnestly, "You are all mistaken; I know the murderer. Justine, poor, +good Justine, is innocent." + +At that instant my father entered. I saw unhappiness deeply impressed +on his countenance, but he endeavoured to welcome me cheerfully; and, +after we had exchanged our mournful greeting, would have introduced +some other topic than that of our disaster, had not Ernest exclaimed, +"Good God, papa! Victor says that he knows who was the murderer of +poor William." + +"We do also, unfortunately," replied my father, "for indeed I had +rather have been for ever ignorant than have discovered so much +depravity and ungratitude in one I valued so highly." + +"My dear father, you are mistaken; Justine is innocent." + +"If she is, God forbid that she should suffer as guilty. She is to be +tried today, and I hope, I sincerely hope, that she will be acquitted." + +This speech calmed me. I was firmly convinced in my own mind that +Justine, and indeed every human being, was guiltless of this murder. I +had no fear, therefore, that any circumstantial evidence could be +brought forward strong enough to convict her. My tale was not one to +announce publicly; its astounding horror would be looked upon as +madness by the vulgar. Did any one indeed exist, except I, the +creator, who would believe, unless his senses convinced him, in the +existence of the living monument of presumption and rash ignorance +which I had let loose upon the world? + +We were soon joined by Elizabeth. Time had altered her since I last +beheld her; it had endowed her with loveliness surpassing the beauty of +her childish years. There was the same candour, the same vivacity, but +it was allied to an expression more full of sensibility and intellect. +She welcomed me with the greatest affection. "Your arrival, my dear +cousin," said she, "fills me with hope. You perhaps will find some +means to justify my poor guiltless Justine. Alas! who is safe, if she +be convicted of crime? I rely on her innocence as certainly as I do +upon my own. Our misfortune is doubly hard to us; we have not only +lost that lovely darling boy, but this poor girl, whom I sincerely +love, is to be torn away by even a worse fate. If she is condemned, I +never shall know joy more. But she will not, I am sure she will not; +and then I shall be happy again, even after the sad death of my little +William." + +"She is innocent, my Elizabeth," said I, "and that shall be proved; +fear nothing, but let your spirits be cheered by the assurance of her +acquittal." + +"How kind and generous you are! every one else believes in her guilt, +and that made me wretched, for I knew that it was impossible: and to +see every one else prejudiced in so deadly a manner rendered me +hopeless and despairing." She wept. + +"Dearest niece," said my father, "dry your tears. If she is, as you +believe, innocent, rely on the justice of our laws, and the activity +with which I shall prevent the slightest shadow of partiality." + + + +Chapter 8 + +We passed a few sad hours until eleven o'clock, when the trial was to +commence. My father and the rest of the family being obliged to attend +as witnesses, I accompanied them to the court. During the whole of +this wretched mockery of justice I suffered living torture. It was to +be decided whether the result of my curiosity and lawless devices would +cause the death of two of my fellow beings: one a smiling babe full of +innocence and joy, the other far more dreadfully murdered, with every +aggravation of infamy that could make the murder memorable in horror. +Justine also was a girl of merit and possessed qualities which promised +to render her life happy; now all was to be obliterated in an +ignominious grave, and I the cause! A thousand times rather would I +have confessed myself guilty of the crime ascribed to Justine, but I +was absent when it was committed, and such a declaration would have +been considered as the ravings of a madman and would not have +exculpated her who suffered through me. + +The appearance of Justine was calm. She was dressed in mourning, and +her countenance, always engaging, was rendered, by the solemnity of her +feelings, exquisitely beautiful. Yet she appeared confident in +innocence and did not tremble, although gazed on and execrated by +thousands, for all the kindness which her beauty might otherwise have +excited was obliterated in the minds of the spectators by the +imagination of the enormity she was supposed to have committed. She +was tranquil, yet her tranquillity was evidently constrained; and as +her confusion had before been adduced as a proof of her guilt, she +worked up her mind to an appearance of courage. When she entered the +court she threw her eyes round it and quickly discovered where we were +seated. A tear seemed to dim her eye when she saw us, but she quickly +recovered herself, and a look of sorrowful affection seemed to attest +her utter guiltlessness. + +The trial began, and after the advocate against her had stated the +charge, several witnesses were called. Several strange facts combined +against her, which might have staggered anyone who had not such proof +of her innocence as I had. She had been out the whole of the night on +which the murder had been committed and towards morning had been +perceived by a market-woman not far from the spot where the body of the +murdered child had been afterwards found. The woman asked her what she +did there, but she looked very strangely and only returned a confused +and unintelligible answer. She returned to the house about eight +o'clock, and when one inquired where she had passed the night, she +replied that she had been looking for the child and demanded earnestly +if anything had been heard concerning him. When shown the body, she +fell into violent hysterics and kept her bed for several days. The +picture was then produced which the servant had found in her pocket; +and when Elizabeth, in a faltering voice, proved that it was the same +which, an hour before the child had been missed, she had placed round +his neck, a murmur of horror and indignation filled the court. + +Justine was called on for her defence. As the trial had proceeded, her +countenance had altered. Surprise, horror, and misery were strongly +expressed. Sometimes she struggled with her tears, but when she was +desired to plead, she collected her powers and spoke in an audible +although variable voice. + +"God knows," she said, "how entirely I am innocent. But I do not +pretend that my protestations should acquit me; I rest my innocence on +a plain and simple explanation of the facts which have been adduced +against me, and I hope the character I have always borne will incline +my judges to a favourable interpretation where any circumstance appears +doubtful or suspicious." + +She then related that, by the permission of Elizabeth, she had passed +the evening of the night on which the murder had been committed at the +house of an aunt at Chene, a village situated at about a league from +Geneva. On her return, at about nine o'clock, she met a man who asked +her if she had seen anything of the child who was lost. She was +alarmed by this account and passed several hours in looking for him, +when the gates of Geneva were shut, and she was forced to remain +several hours of the night in a barn belonging to a cottage, being +unwilling to call up the inhabitants, to whom she was well known. Most +of the night she spent here watching; towards morning she believed that +she slept for a few minutes; some steps disturbed her, and she awoke. +It was dawn, and she quitted her asylum, that she might again endeavour +to find my brother. If she had gone near the spot where his body lay, +it was without her knowledge. That she had been bewildered when +questioned by the market-woman was not surprising, since she had passed +a sleepless night and the fate of poor William was yet uncertain. +Concerning the picture she could give no account. + +"I know," continued the unhappy victim, "how heavily and fatally this +one circumstance weighs against me, but I have no power of explaining +it; and when I have expressed my utter ignorance, I am only left to +conjecture concerning the probabilities by which it might have been +placed in my pocket. But here also I am checked. I believe that I +have no enemy on earth, and none surely would have been so wicked as to +destroy me wantonly. Did the murderer place it there? I know of no +opportunity afforded him for so doing; or, if I had, why should he have +stolen the jewel, to part with it again so soon? + +"I commit my cause to the justice of my judges, yet I see no room for +hope. I beg permission to have a few witnesses examined concerning my +character, and if their testimony shall not overweigh my supposed +guilt, I must be condemned, although I would pledge my salvation on my +innocence." + +Several witnesses were called who had known her for many years, and +they spoke well of her; but fear and hatred of the crime of which they +supposed her guilty rendered them timorous and unwilling to come +forward. Elizabeth saw even this last resource, her excellent +dispositions and irreproachable conduct, about to fail the accused, +when, although violently agitated, she desired permission to address +the court. + +"I am," said she, "the cousin of the unhappy child who was murdered, or +rather his sister, for I was educated by and have lived with his +parents ever since and even long before his birth. It may therefore be +judged indecent in me to come forward on this occasion, but when I see +a fellow creature about to perish through the cowardice of her +pretended friends, I wish to be allowed to speak, that I may say what I +know of her character. I am well acquainted with the accused. I have +lived in the same house with her, at one time for five and at another +for nearly two years. During all that period she appeared to me the +most amiable and benevolent of human creatures. She nursed Madame +Frankenstein, my aunt, in her last illness, with the greatest affection +and care and afterwards attended her own mother during a tedious +illness, in a manner that excited the admiration of all who knew her, +after which she again lived in my uncle's house, where she was beloved +by all the family. She was warmly attached to the child who is now +dead and acted towards him like a most affectionate mother. For my own +part, I do not hesitate to say that, notwithstanding all the evidence +produced against her, I believe and rely on her perfect innocence. She +had no temptation for such an action; as to the bauble on which the +chief proof rests, if she had earnestly desired it, I should have +willingly given it to her, so much do I esteem and value her." + +A murmur of approbation followed Elizabeth's simple and powerful +appeal, but it was excited by her generous interference, and not in +favour of poor Justine, on whom the public indignation was turned with +renewed violence, charging her with the blackest ingratitude. She +herself wept as Elizabeth spoke, but she did not answer. My own +agitation and anguish was extreme during the whole trial. I believed +in her innocence; I knew it. Could the demon who had (I did not for a +minute doubt) murdered my brother also in his hellish sport have +betrayed the innocent to death and ignominy? I could not sustain the +horror of my situation, and when I perceived that the popular voice and +the countenances of the judges had already condemned my unhappy victim, +I rushed out of the court in agony. The tortures of the accused did +not equal mine; she was sustained by innocence, but the fangs of +remorse tore my bosom and would not forgo their hold. + +I passed a night of unmingled wretchedness. In the morning I went to +the court; my lips and throat were parched. I dared not ask the fatal +question, but I was known, and the officer guessed the cause of my +visit. The ballots had been thrown; they were all black, and Justine +was condemned. + +I cannot pretend to describe what I then felt. I had before +experienced sensations of horror, and I have endeavoured to bestow upon +them adequate expressions, but words cannot convey an idea of the +heart-sickening despair that I then endured. The person to whom I +addressed myself added that Justine had already confessed her guilt. +"That evidence," he observed, "was hardly required in so glaring a +case, but I am glad of it, and, indeed, none of our judges like to +condemn a criminal upon circumstantial evidence, be it ever so +decisive." + +This was strange and unexpected intelligence; what could it mean? Had +my eyes deceived me? And was I really as mad as the whole world would +believe me to be if I disclosed the object of my suspicions? I +hastened to return home, and Elizabeth eagerly demanded the result. + +"My cousin," replied I, "it is decided as you may have expected; all +judges had rather that ten innocent should suffer than that one guilty +should escape. But she has confessed." + +This was a dire blow to poor Elizabeth, who had relied with firmness +upon Justine's innocence. "Alas!" said she. "How shall I ever again +believe in human goodness? Justine, whom I loved and esteemed as my +sister, how could she put on those smiles of innocence only to betray? +Her mild eyes seemed incapable of any severity or guile, and yet she +has committed a murder." + +Soon after we heard that the poor victim had expressed a desire to see +my cousin. My father wished her not to go but said that he left it to +her own judgment and feelings to decide. "Yes," said Elizabeth, "I +will go, although she is guilty; and you, Victor, shall accompany me; I +cannot go alone." The idea of this visit was torture to me, yet I +could not refuse. We entered the gloomy prison chamber and beheld +Justine sitting on some straw at the farther end; her hands were +manacled, and her head rested on her knees. She rose on seeing us +enter, and when we were left alone with her, she threw herself at the +feet of Elizabeth, weeping bitterly. My cousin wept also. + +"Oh, Justine!" said she. "Why did you rob me of my last consolation? +I relied on your innocence, and although I was then very wretched, I +was not so miserable as I am now." + +"And do you also believe that I am so very, very wicked? Do you also +join with my enemies to crush me, to condemn me as a murderer?" Her +voice was suffocated with sobs. + +"Rise, my poor girl," said Elizabeth; "why do you kneel, if you are +innocent? I am not one of your enemies, I believed you guiltless, +notwithstanding every evidence, until I heard that you had yourself +declared your guilt. That report, you say, is false; and be assured, +dear Justine, that nothing can shake my confidence in you for a moment, +but your own confession." + +"I did confess, but I confessed a lie. I confessed, that I might +obtain absolution; but now that falsehood lies heavier at my heart than +all my other sins. The God of heaven forgive me! Ever since I was +condemned, my confessor has besieged me; he threatened and menaced, +until I almost began to think that I was the monster that he said I +was. He threatened excommunication and hell fire in my last moments if +I continued obdurate. Dear lady, I had none to support me; all looked +on me as a wretch doomed to ignominy and perdition. What could I do? +In an evil hour I subscribed to a lie; and now only am I truly +miserable." + +She paused, weeping, and then continued, "I thought with horror, my +sweet lady, that you should believe your Justine, whom your blessed +aunt had so highly honoured, and whom you loved, was a creature capable +of a crime which none but the devil himself could have perpetrated. +Dear William! dearest blessed child! I soon shall see you again in +heaven, where we shall all be happy; and that consoles me, going as I +am to suffer ignominy and death." + +"Oh, Justine! Forgive me for having for one moment distrusted you. +Why did you confess? But do not mourn, dear girl. Do not fear. I +will proclaim, I will prove your innocence. I will melt the stony +hearts of your enemies by my tears and prayers. You shall not die! +You, my playfellow, my companion, my sister, perish on the scaffold! +No! No! I never could survive so horrible a misfortune." + +Justine shook her head mournfully. "I do not fear to die," she said; +"that pang is past. God raises my weakness and gives me courage to +endure the worst. I leave a sad and bitter world; and if you remember +me and think of me as of one unjustly condemned, I am resigned to the +fate awaiting me. Learn from me, dear lady, to submit in patience to +the will of heaven!" + +During this conversation I had retired to a corner of the prison room, +where I could conceal the horrid anguish that possessed me. Despair! +Who dared talk of that? The poor victim, who on the morrow was to pass +the awful boundary between life and death, felt not, as I did, such +deep and bitter agony. I gnashed my teeth and ground them together, +uttering a groan that came from my inmost soul. Justine started. When +she saw who it was, she approached me and said, "Dear sir, you are very +kind to visit me; you, I hope, do not believe that I am guilty?" + +I could not answer. "No, Justine," said Elizabeth; "he is more +convinced of your innocence than I was, for even when he heard that you +had confessed, he did not credit it." + +"I truly thank him. In these last moments I feel the sincerest +gratitude towards those who think of me with kindness. How sweet is +the affection of others to such a wretch as I am! It removes more than +half my misfortune, and I feel as if I could die in peace now that my +innocence is acknowledged by you, dear lady, and your cousin." + +Thus the poor sufferer tried to comfort others and herself. She indeed +gained the resignation she desired. But I, the true murderer, felt the +never-dying worm alive in my bosom, which allowed of no hope or +consolation. Elizabeth also wept and was unhappy, but hers also was +the misery of innocence, which, like a cloud that passes over the fair +moon, for a while hides but cannot tarnish its brightness. Anguish and +despair had penetrated into the core of my heart; I bore a hell within +me which nothing could extinguish. We stayed several hours with +Justine, and it was with great difficulty that Elizabeth could tear +herself away. "I wish," cried she, "that I were to die with you; I +cannot live in this world of misery." + +Justine assumed an air of cheerfulness, while she with difficulty +repressed her bitter tears. She embraced Elizabeth and said in a voice +of half-suppressed emotion, "Farewell, sweet lady, dearest Elizabeth, +my beloved and only friend; may heaven, in its bounty, bless and +preserve you; may this be the last misfortune that you will ever +suffer! Live, and be happy, and make others so." + +And on the morrow Justine died. Elizabeth's heart-rending eloquence +failed to move the judges from their settled conviction in the +criminality of the saintly sufferer. My passionate and indignant +appeals were lost upon them. And when I received their cold answers +and heard the harsh, unfeeling reasoning of these men, my purposed +avowal died away on my lips. Thus I might proclaim myself a madman, +but not revoke the sentence passed upon my wretched victim. She +perished on the scaffold as a murderess! + +From the tortures of my own heart, I turned to contemplate the deep and +voiceless grief of my Elizabeth. This also was my doing! And my +father's woe, and the desolation of that late so smiling home all was +the work of my thrice-accursed hands! Ye weep, unhappy ones, but these +are not your last tears! Again shall you raise the funeral wail, and +the sound of your lamentations shall again and again be heard! +Frankenstein, your son, your kinsman, your early, much-loved friend; he +who would spend each vital drop of blood for your sakes, who has no +thought nor sense of joy except as it is mirrored also in your dear +countenances, who would fill the air with blessings and spend his life +in serving you--he bids you weep, to shed countless tears; happy beyond +his hopes, if thus inexorable fate be satisfied, and if the destruction +pause before the peace of the grave have succeeded to your sad torments! + +Thus spoke my prophetic soul, as, torn by remorse, horror, and despair, +I beheld those I loved spend vain sorrow upon the graves of William and +Justine, the first hapless victims to my unhallowed arts. + + + +Chapter 9 + +Nothing is more painful to the human mind than, after the feelings have +been worked up by a quick succession of events, the dead calmness of +inaction and certainty which follows and deprives the soul both of hope +and fear. Justine died, she rested, and I was alive. The blood flowed +freely in my veins, but a weight of despair and remorse pressed on my +heart which nothing could remove. Sleep fled from my eyes; I wandered +like an evil spirit, for I had committed deeds of mischief beyond +description horrible, and more, much more (I persuaded myself) was yet +behind. Yet my heart overflowed with kindness and the love of virtue. +I had begun life with benevolent intentions and thirsted for the moment +when I should put them in practice and make myself useful to my fellow +beings. Now all was blasted; instead of that serenity of conscience +which allowed me to look back upon the past with self-satisfaction, and +from thence to gather promise of new hopes, I was seized by remorse and +the sense of guilt, which hurried me away to a hell of intense tortures +such as no language can describe. + +This state of mind preyed upon my health, which had perhaps never +entirely recovered from the first shock it had sustained. I shunned +the face of man; all sound of joy or complacency was torture to me; +solitude was my only consolation--deep, dark, deathlike solitude. + +My father observed with pain the alteration perceptible in my +disposition and habits and endeavoured by arguments deduced from the +feelings of his serene conscience and guiltless life to inspire me with +fortitude and awaken in me the courage to dispel the dark cloud which +brooded over me. "Do you think, Victor," said he, "that I do not +suffer also? No one could love a child more than I loved your +brother"--tears came into his eyes as he spoke--"but is it not a duty +to the survivors that we should refrain from augmenting their +unhappiness by an appearance of immoderate grief? It is also a duty +owed to yourself, for excessive sorrow prevents improvement or +enjoyment, or even the discharge of daily usefulness, without which no +man is fit for society." + +This advice, although good, was totally inapplicable to my case; I +should have been the first to hide my grief and console my friends if +remorse had not mingled its bitterness, and terror its alarm, with my +other sensations. Now I could only answer my father with a look of +despair and endeavour to hide myself from his view. + +About this time we retired to our house at Belrive. This change was +particularly agreeable to me. The shutting of the gates regularly at +ten o'clock and the impossibility of remaining on the lake after that +hour had rendered our residence within the walls of Geneva very irksome +to me. I was now free. Often, after the rest of the family had +retired for the night, I took the boat and passed many hours upon the +water. Sometimes, with my sails set, I was carried by the wind; and +sometimes, after rowing into the middle of the lake, I left the boat to +pursue its own course and gave way to my own miserable reflections. I +was often tempted, when all was at peace around me, and I the only +unquiet thing that wandered restless in a scene so beautiful and +heavenly--if I except some bat, or the frogs, whose harsh and +interrupted croaking was heard only when I approached the shore--often, +I say, I was tempted to plunge into the silent lake, that the waters +might close over me and my calamities forever. But I was restrained, +when I thought of the heroic and suffering Elizabeth, whom I tenderly +loved, and whose existence was bound up in mine. I thought also of my +father and surviving brother; should I by my base desertion leave them +exposed and unprotected to the malice of the fiend whom I had let loose +among them? + +At these moments I wept bitterly and wished that peace would revisit my +mind only that I might afford them consolation and happiness. But that +could not be. Remorse extinguished every hope. I had been the author +of unalterable evils, and I lived in daily fear lest the monster whom I +had created should perpetrate some new wickedness. I had an obscure +feeling that all was not over and that he would still commit some +signal crime, which by its enormity should almost efface the +recollection of the past. There was always scope for fear so long as +anything I loved remained behind. My abhorrence of this fiend cannot +be conceived. When I thought of him I gnashed my teeth, my eyes became +inflamed, and I ardently wished to extinguish that life which I had so +thoughtlessly bestowed. When I reflected on his crimes and malice, my +hatred and revenge burst all bounds of moderation. I would have made a +pilgrimage to the highest peak of the Andes, could I when there have +precipitated him to their base. I wished to see him again, that I +might wreak the utmost extent of abhorrence on his head and avenge the +deaths of William and Justine. Our house was the house of mourning. My +father's health was deeply shaken by the horror of the recent events. +Elizabeth was sad and desponding; she no longer took delight in her +ordinary occupations; all pleasure seemed to her sacrilege toward the +dead; eternal woe and tears she then thought was the just tribute she +should pay to innocence so blasted and destroyed. She was no longer +that happy creature who in earlier youth wandered with me on the banks +of the lake and talked with ecstasy of our future prospects. The first +of those sorrows which are sent to wean us from the earth had visited +her, and its dimming influence quenched her dearest smiles. + +"When I reflect, my dear cousin," said she, "on the miserable death of +Justine Moritz, I no longer see the world and its works as they before +appeared to me. Before, I looked upon the accounts of vice and +injustice that I read in books or heard from others as tales of ancient +days or imaginary evils; at least they were remote and more familiar to +reason than to the imagination; but now misery has come home, and men +appear to me as monsters thirsting for each other's blood. Yet I am +certainly unjust. Everybody believed that poor girl to be guilty; and +if she could have committed the crime for which she suffered, assuredly +she would have been the most depraved of human creatures. For the sake +of a few jewels, to have murdered the son of her benefactor and friend, +a child whom she had nursed from its birth, and appeared to love as if +it had been her own! I could not consent to the death of any human +being, but certainly I should have thought such a creature unfit to +remain in the society of men. But she was innocent. I know, I feel +she was innocent; you are of the same opinion, and that confirms me. +Alas! Victor, when falsehood can look so like the truth, who can +assure themselves of certain happiness? I feel as if I were walking on +the edge of a precipice, towards which thousands are crowding and +endeavouring to plunge me into the abyss. William and Justine were +assassinated, and the murderer escapes; he walks about the world free, +and perhaps respected. But even if I were condemned to suffer on the +scaffold for the same crimes, I would not change places with such a +wretch." + +I listened to this discourse with the extremest agony. I, not in deed, +but in effect, was the true murderer. Elizabeth read my anguish in my +countenance, and kindly taking my hand, said, "My dearest friend, you +must calm yourself. These events have affected me, God knows how +deeply; but I am not so wretched as you are. There is an expression of +despair, and sometimes of revenge, in your countenance that makes me +tremble. Dear Victor, banish these dark passions. Remember the +friends around you, who centre all their hopes in you. Have we lost +the power of rendering you happy? Ah! While we love, while we are +true to each other, here in this land of peace and beauty, your native +country, we may reap every tranquil blessing--what can disturb our +peace?" + +And could not such words from her whom I fondly prized before every +other gift of fortune suffice to chase away the fiend that lurked in my +heart? Even as she spoke I drew near to her, as if in terror, lest at +that very moment the destroyer had been near to rob me of her. + +Thus not the tenderness of friendship, nor the beauty of earth, nor of +heaven, could redeem my soul from woe; the very accents of love were +ineffectual. I was encompassed by a cloud which no beneficial +influence could penetrate. The wounded deer dragging its fainting +limbs to some untrodden brake, there to gaze upon the arrow which had +pierced it, and to die, was but a type of me. + +Sometimes I could cope with the sullen despair that overwhelmed me, but +sometimes the whirlwind passions of my soul drove me to seek, by bodily +exercise and by change of place, some relief from my intolerable +sensations. It was during an access of this kind that I suddenly left +my home, and bending my steps towards the near Alpine valleys, sought +in the magnificence, the eternity of such scenes, to forget myself and +my ephemeral, because human, sorrows. My wanderings were directed +towards the valley of Chamounix. I had visited it frequently during my +boyhood. Six years had passed since then: _I_ was a wreck, but nought +had changed in those savage and enduring scenes. + +I performed the first part of my journey on horseback. I afterwards +hired a mule, as the more sure-footed and least liable to receive +injury on these rugged roads. The weather was fine; it was about the +middle of the month of August, nearly two months after the death of +Justine, that miserable epoch from which I dated all my woe. The +weight upon my spirit was sensibly lightened as I plunged yet deeper in +the ravine of Arve. The immense mountains and precipices that overhung +me on every side, the sound of the river raging among the rocks, and +the dashing of the waterfalls around spoke of a power mighty as +Omnipotence--and I ceased to fear or to bend before any being less +almighty than that which had created and ruled the elements, here +displayed in their most terrific guise. Still, as I ascended higher, +the valley assumed a more magnificent and astonishing character. +Ruined castles hanging on the precipices of piny mountains, the +impetuous Arve, and cottages every here and there peeping forth from +among the trees formed a scene of singular beauty. But it was +augmented and rendered sublime by the mighty Alps, whose white and +shining pyramids and domes towered above all, as belonging to another +earth, the habitations of another race of beings. + +I passed the bridge of Pelissier, where the ravine, which the river +forms, opened before me, and I began to ascend the mountain that +overhangs it. Soon after, I entered the valley of Chamounix. This +valley is more wonderful and sublime, but not so beautiful and +picturesque as that of Servox, through which I had just passed. The +high and snowy mountains were its immediate boundaries, but I saw no +more ruined castles and fertile fields. Immense glaciers approached +the road; I heard the rumbling thunder of the falling avalanche and +marked the smoke of its passage. Mont Blanc, the supreme and +magnificent Mont Blanc, raised itself from the surrounding aiguilles, +and its tremendous dome overlooked the valley. + +A tingling long-lost sense of pleasure often came across me during this +journey. Some turn in the road, some new object suddenly perceived and +recognized, reminded me of days gone by, and were associated with the +lighthearted gaiety of boyhood. The very winds whispered in soothing +accents, and maternal Nature bade me weep no more. Then again the +kindly influence ceased to act--I found myself fettered again to grief +and indulging in all the misery of reflection. Then I spurred on my +animal, striving so to forget the world, my fears, and more than all, +myself--or, in a more desperate fashion, I alighted and threw myself on +the grass, weighed down by horror and despair. + +At length I arrived at the village of Chamounix. Exhaustion succeeded +to the extreme fatigue both of body and of mind which I had endured. +For a short space of time I remained at the window watching the pallid +lightnings that played above Mont Blanc and listening to the rushing of +the Arve, which pursued its noisy way beneath. The same lulling sounds +acted as a lullaby to my too keen sensations; when I placed my head +upon my pillow, sleep crept over me; I felt it as it came and blessed +the giver of oblivion. + + + +Chapter 10 + +I spent the following day roaming through the valley. I stood beside +the sources of the Arveiron, which take their rise in a glacier, that +with slow pace is advancing down from the summit of the hills to +barricade the valley. The abrupt sides of vast mountains were before +me; the icy wall of the glacier overhung me; a few shattered pines were +scattered around; and the solemn silence of this glorious +presence-chamber of imperial nature was broken only by the brawling +waves or the fall of some vast fragment, the thunder sound of the +avalanche or the cracking, reverberated along the mountains, of the +accumulated ice, which, through the silent working of immutable laws, +was ever and anon rent and torn, as if it had been but a plaything in +their hands. These sublime and magnificent scenes afforded me the +greatest consolation that I was capable of receiving. They elevated me +from all littleness of feeling, and although they did not remove my +grief, they subdued and tranquillized it. In some degree, also, they +diverted my mind from the thoughts over which it had brooded for the +last month. I retired to rest at night; my slumbers, as it were, +waited on and ministered to by the assemblance of grand shapes which I +had contemplated during the day. They congregated round me; the +unstained snowy mountain-top, the glittering pinnacle, the pine woods, +and ragged bare ravine, the eagle, soaring amidst the clouds--they all +gathered round me and bade me be at peace. + +Where had they fled when the next morning I awoke? All of +soul-inspiriting fled with sleep, and dark melancholy clouded every +thought. The rain was pouring in torrents, and thick mists hid the +summits of the mountains, so that I even saw not the faces of those +mighty friends. Still I would penetrate their misty veil and seek them +in their cloudy retreats. What were rain and storm to me? My mule was +brought to the door, and I resolved to ascend to the summit of +Montanvert. I remembered the effect that the view of the tremendous +and ever-moving glacier had produced upon my mind when I first saw it. +It had then filled me with a sublime ecstasy that gave wings to the +soul and allowed it to soar from the obscure world to light and joy. +The sight of the awful and majestic in nature had indeed always the +effect of solemnizing my mind and causing me to forget the passing +cares of life. I determined to go without a guide, for I was well +acquainted with the path, and the presence of another would destroy the +solitary grandeur of the scene. + +The ascent is precipitous, but the path is cut into continual and short +windings, which enable you to surmount the perpendicularity of the +mountain. It is a scene terrifically desolate. In a thousand spots +the traces of the winter avalanche may be perceived, where trees lie +broken and strewed on the ground, some entirely destroyed, others bent, +leaning upon the jutting rocks of the mountain or transversely upon +other trees. The path, as you ascend higher, is intersected by ravines +of snow, down which stones continually roll from above; one of them is +particularly dangerous, as the slightest sound, such as even speaking +in a loud voice, produces a concussion of air sufficient to draw +destruction upon the head of the speaker. The pines are not tall or +luxuriant, but they are sombre and add an air of severity to the scene. +I looked on the valley beneath; vast mists were rising from the rivers +which ran through it and curling in thick wreaths around the opposite +mountains, whose summits were hid in the uniform clouds, while rain +poured from the dark sky and added to the melancholy impression I +received from the objects around me. Alas! Why does man boast of +sensibilities superior to those apparent in the brute; it only renders +them more necessary beings. If our impulses were confined to hunger, +thirst, and desire, we might be nearly free; but now we are moved by +every wind that blows and a chance word or scene that that word may +convey to us. + + + We rest; a dream has power to poison sleep. + We rise; one wand'ring thought pollutes the day. + We feel, conceive, or reason; laugh or weep, + Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away; + It is the same: for, be it joy or sorrow, + The path of its departure still is free. + Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow; + Nought may endure but mutability! + + +It was nearly noon when I arrived at the top of the ascent. For some +time I sat upon the rock that overlooks the sea of ice. A mist covered +both that and the surrounding mountains. Presently a breeze dissipated +the cloud, and I descended upon the glacier. The surface is very +uneven, rising like the waves of a troubled sea, descending low, and +interspersed by rifts that sink deep. The field of ice is almost a +league in width, but I spent nearly two hours in crossing it. The +opposite mountain is a bare perpendicular rock. From the side where I +now stood Montanvert was exactly opposite, at the distance of a league; +and above it rose Mont Blanc, in awful majesty. I remained in a recess +of the rock, gazing on this wonderful and stupendous scene. The sea, +or rather the vast river of ice, wound among its dependent mountains, +whose aerial summits hung over its recesses. Their icy and glittering +peaks shone in the sunlight over the clouds. My heart, which was +before sorrowful, now swelled with something like joy; I exclaimed, +"Wandering spirits, if indeed ye wander, and do not rest in your narrow +beds, allow me this faint happiness, or take me, as your companion, +away from the joys of life." + +As I said this I suddenly beheld the figure of a man, at some distance, +advancing towards me with superhuman speed. He bounded over the +crevices in the ice, among which I had walked with caution; his +stature, also, as he approached, seemed to exceed that of man. I was +troubled; a mist came over my eyes, and I felt a faintness seize me, +but I was quickly restored by the cold gale of the mountains. I +perceived, as the shape came nearer (sight tremendous and abhorred!) +that it was the wretch whom I had created. I trembled with rage and +horror, resolving to wait his approach and then close with him in +mortal combat. He approached; his countenance bespoke bitter anguish, +combined with disdain and malignity, while its unearthly ugliness +rendered it almost too horrible for human eyes. But I scarcely +observed this; rage and hatred had at first deprived me of utterance, +and I recovered only to overwhelm him with words expressive of furious +detestation and contempt. + +"Devil," I exclaimed, "do you dare approach me? And do not you fear +the fierce vengeance of my arm wreaked on your miserable head? Begone, +vile insect! Or rather, stay, that I may trample you to dust! And, +oh! That I could, with the extinction of your miserable existence, +restore those victims whom you have so diabolically murdered!" + +"I expected this reception," said the daemon. "All men hate the +wretched; how, then, must I be hated, who am miserable beyond all +living things! Yet you, my creator, detest and spurn me, thy creature, +to whom thou art bound by ties only dissoluble by the annihilation of +one of us. You purpose to kill me. How dare you sport thus with life? +Do your duty towards me, and I will do mine towards you and the rest of +mankind. If you will comply with my conditions, I will leave them and +you at peace; but if you refuse, I will glut the maw of death, until it +be satiated with the blood of your remaining friends." + +"Abhorred monster! Fiend that thou art! The tortures of hell are too +mild a vengeance for thy crimes. Wretched devil! You reproach me with +your creation, come on, then, that I may extinguish the spark which I +so negligently bestowed." + +My rage was without bounds; I sprang on him, impelled by all the +feelings which can arm one being against the existence of another. + +He easily eluded me and said, + +"Be calm! I entreat you to hear me before you give vent to your hatred +on my devoted head. Have I not suffered enough, that you seek to +increase my misery? Life, although it may only be an accumulation of +anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it. Remember, thou hast made +me more powerful than thyself; my height is superior to thine, my +joints more supple. But I will not be tempted to set myself in +opposition to thee. I am thy creature, and I will be even mild and +docile to my natural lord and king if thou wilt also perform thy part, +the which thou owest me. Oh, Frankenstein, be not equitable to every +other and trample upon me alone, to whom thy justice, and even thy +clemency and affection, is most due. Remember that I am thy creature; +I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel, whom thou +drivest from joy for no misdeed. Everywhere I see bliss, from which I +alone am irrevocably excluded. I was benevolent and good; misery made +me a fiend. Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous." + +"Begone! I will not hear you. There can be no community between you +and me; we are enemies. Begone, or let us try our strength in a fight, +in which one must fall." + +"How can I move thee? Will no entreaties cause thee to turn a +favourable eye upon thy creature, who implores thy goodness and +compassion? Believe me, Frankenstein, I was benevolent; my soul glowed +with love and humanity; but am I not alone, miserably alone? You, my +creator, abhor me; what hope can I gather from your fellow creatures, +who owe me nothing? They spurn and hate me. The desert mountains and +dreary glaciers are my refuge. I have wandered here many days; the +caves of ice, which I only do not fear, are a dwelling to me, and the +only one which man does not grudge. These bleak skies I hail, for they +are kinder to me than your fellow beings. If the multitude of mankind +knew of my existence, they would do as you do, and arm themselves for +my destruction. Shall I not then hate them who abhor me? I will keep +no terms with my enemies. I am miserable, and they shall share my +wretchedness. Yet it is in your power to recompense me, and deliver +them from an evil which it only remains for you to make so great, that +not only you and your family, but thousands of others, shall be +swallowed up in the whirlwinds of its rage. Let your compassion be +moved, and do not disdain me. Listen to my tale; when you have heard +that, abandon or commiserate me, as you shall judge that I deserve. +But hear me. The guilty are allowed, by human laws, bloody as they +are, to speak in their own defence before they are condemned. Listen +to me, Frankenstein. You accuse me of murder, and yet you would, with +a satisfied conscience, destroy your own creature. Oh, praise the +eternal justice of man! Yet I ask you not to spare me; listen to me, +and then, if you can, and if you will, destroy the work of your hands." + +"Why do you call to my remembrance," I rejoined, "circumstances of +which I shudder to reflect, that I have been the miserable origin and +author? Cursed be the day, abhorred devil, in which you first saw +light! Cursed (although I curse myself) be the hands that formed you! +You have made me wretched beyond expression. You have left me no power +to consider whether I am just to you or not. Begone! Relieve me from +the sight of your detested form." + +"Thus I relieve thee, my creator," he said, and placed his hated hands +before my eyes, which I flung from me with violence; "thus I take from +thee a sight which you abhor. Still thou canst listen to me and grant +me thy compassion. By the virtues that I once possessed, I demand this +from you. Hear my tale; it is long and strange, and the temperature of +this place is not fitting to your fine sensations; come to the hut upon +the mountain. The sun is yet high in the heavens; before it descends +to hide itself behind your snowy precipices and illuminate another +world, you will have heard my story and can decide. On you it rests, +whether I quit forever the neighbourhood of man and lead a harmless +life, or become the scourge of your fellow creatures and the author of +your own speedy ruin." + +As he said this he led the way across the ice; I followed. My heart +was full, and I did not answer him, but as I proceeded, I weighed the +various arguments that he had used and determined at least to listen to +his tale. I was partly urged by curiosity, and compassion confirmed my +resolution. I had hitherto supposed him to be the murderer of my +brother, and I eagerly sought a confirmation or denial of this opinion. +For the first time, also, I felt what the duties of a creator towards +his creature were, and that I ought to render him happy before I +complained of his wickedness. These motives urged me to comply with +his demand. We crossed the ice, therefore, and ascended the opposite +rock. The air was cold, and the rain again began to descend; we +entered the hut, the fiend with an air of exultation, I with a heavy +heart and depressed spirits. But I consented to listen, and seating +myself by the fire which my odious companion had lighted, he thus began +his tale. + + + +Chapter 11 + +"It is with considerable difficulty that I remember the original era of +my being; all the events of that period appear confused and indistinct. +A strange multiplicity of sensations seized me, and I saw, felt, heard, +and smelt at the same time; and it was, indeed, a long time before I +learned to distinguish between the operations of my various senses. By +degrees, I remember, a stronger light pressed upon my nerves, so that I +was obliged to shut my eyes. Darkness then came over me and troubled +me, but hardly had I felt this when, by opening my eyes, as I now +suppose, the light poured in upon me again. I walked and, I believe, +descended, but I presently found a great alteration in my sensations. +Before, dark and opaque bodies had surrounded me, impervious to my +touch or sight; but I now found that I could wander on at liberty, with +no obstacles which I could not either surmount or avoid. The light +became more and more oppressive to me, and the heat wearying me as I +walked, I sought a place where I could receive shade. This was the +forest near Ingolstadt; and here I lay by the side of a brook resting +from my fatigue, until I felt tormented by hunger and thirst. This +roused me from my nearly dormant state, and I ate some berries which I +found hanging on the trees or lying on the ground. I slaked my thirst +at the brook, and then lying down, was overcome by sleep. + +"It was dark when I awoke; I felt cold also, and half frightened, as it +were, instinctively, finding myself so desolate. Before I had quitted +your apartment, on a sensation of cold, I had covered myself with some +clothes, but these were insufficient to secure me from the dews of +night. I was a poor, helpless, miserable wretch; I knew, and could +distinguish, nothing; but feeling pain invade me on all sides, I sat +down and wept. + +"Soon a gentle light stole over the heavens and gave me a sensation of +pleasure. I started up and beheld a radiant form rise from among the +trees. [The moon] I gazed with a kind of wonder. It moved slowly, +but it enlightened my path, and I again went out in search of berries. +I was still cold when under one of the trees I found a huge cloak, with +which I covered myself, and sat down upon the ground. No distinct +ideas occupied my mind; all was confused. I felt light, and hunger, +and thirst, and darkness; innumerable sounds rang in my ears, and on +all sides various scents saluted me; the only object that I could +distinguish was the bright moon, and I fixed my eyes on that with +pleasure. + +"Several changes of day and night passed, and the orb of night had +greatly lessened, when I began to distinguish my sensations from each +other. I gradually saw plainly the clear stream that supplied me with +drink and the trees that shaded me with their foliage. I was delighted +when I first discovered that a pleasant sound, which often saluted my +ears, proceeded from the throats of the little winged animals who had +often intercepted the light from my eyes. I began also to observe, +with greater accuracy, the forms that surrounded me and to perceive the +boundaries of the radiant roof of light which canopied me. Sometimes I +tried to imitate the pleasant songs of the birds but was unable. +Sometimes I wished to express my sensations in my own mode, but the +uncouth and inarticulate sounds which broke from me frightened me into +silence again. + +"The moon had disappeared from the night, and again, with a lessened +form, showed itself, while I still remained in the forest. My +sensations had by this time become distinct, and my mind received every +day additional ideas. My eyes became accustomed to the light and to +perceive objects in their right forms; I distinguished the insect from +the herb, and by degrees, one herb from another. I found that the +sparrow uttered none but harsh notes, whilst those of the blackbird and +thrush were sweet and enticing. + +"One day, when I was oppressed by cold, I found a fire which had been +left by some wandering beggars, and was overcome with delight at the +warmth I experienced from it. In my joy I thrust my hand into the live +embers, but quickly drew it out again with a cry of pain. How strange, +I thought, that the same cause should produce such opposite effects! I +examined the materials of the fire, and to my joy found it to be +composed of wood. I quickly collected some branches, but they were wet +and would not burn. I was pained at this and sat still watching the +operation of the fire. The wet wood which I had placed near the heat +dried and itself became inflamed. I reflected on this, and by touching +the various branches, I discovered the cause and busied myself in +collecting a great quantity of wood, that I might dry it and have a +plentiful supply of fire. When night came on and brought sleep with +it, I was in the greatest fear lest my fire should be extinguished. I +covered it carefully with dry wood and leaves and placed wet branches +upon it; and then, spreading my cloak, I lay on the ground and sank +into sleep. + +"It was morning when I awoke, and my first care was to visit the fire. +I uncovered it, and a gentle breeze quickly fanned it into a flame. I +observed this also and contrived a fan of branches, which roused the +embers when they were nearly extinguished. When night came again I +found, with pleasure, that the fire gave light as well as heat and that +the discovery of this element was useful to me in my food, for I found +some of the offals that the travellers had left had been roasted, and +tasted much more savoury than the berries I gathered from the trees. I +tried, therefore, to dress my food in the same manner, placing it on +the live embers. I found that the berries were spoiled by this +operation, and the nuts and roots much improved. + +"Food, however, became scarce, and I often spent the whole day +searching in vain for a few acorns to assuage the pangs of hunger. When +I found this, I resolved to quit the place that I had hitherto +inhabited, to seek for one where the few wants I experienced would be +more easily satisfied. In this emigration I exceedingly lamented the +loss of the fire which I had obtained through accident and knew not how +to reproduce it. I gave several hours to the serious consideration of +this difficulty, but I was obliged to relinquish all attempt to supply +it, and wrapping myself up in my cloak, I struck across the wood +towards the setting sun. I passed three days in these rambles and at +length discovered the open country. A great fall of snow had taken +place the night before, and the fields were of one uniform white; the +appearance was disconsolate, and I found my feet chilled by the cold +damp substance that covered the ground. + +"It was about seven in the morning, and I longed to obtain food and +shelter; at length I perceived a small hut, on a rising ground, which +had doubtless been built for the convenience of some shepherd. This +was a new sight to me, and I examined the structure with great +curiosity. Finding the door open, I entered. An old man sat in it, +near a fire, over which he was preparing his breakfast. He turned on +hearing a noise, and perceiving me, shrieked loudly, and quitting the +hut, ran across the fields with a speed of which his debilitated form +hardly appeared capable. His appearance, different from any I had ever +before seen, and his flight somewhat surprised me. But I was enchanted +by the appearance of the hut; here the snow and rain could not +penetrate; the ground was dry; and it presented to me then as exquisite +and divine a retreat as Pandemonium appeared to the demons of hell +after their sufferings in the lake of fire. I greedily devoured the +remnants of the shepherd's breakfast, which consisted of bread, cheese, +milk, and wine; the latter, however, I did not like. Then, overcome by +fatigue, I lay down among some straw and fell asleep. + +"It was noon when I awoke, and allured by the warmth of the sun, which +shone brightly on the white ground, I determined to recommence my +travels; and, depositing the remains of the peasant's breakfast in a +wallet I found, I proceeded across the fields for several hours, until +at sunset I arrived at a village. How miraculous did this appear! The +huts, the neater cottages, and stately houses engaged my admiration by +turns. The vegetables in the gardens, the milk and cheese that I saw +placed at the windows of some of the cottages, allured my appetite. One +of the best of these I entered, but I had hardly placed my foot within +the door before the children shrieked, and one of the women fainted. +The whole village was roused; some fled, some attacked me, until, +grievously bruised by stones and many other kinds of missile weapons, I +escaped to the open country and fearfully took refuge in a low hovel, +quite bare, and making a wretched appearance after the palaces I had +beheld in the village. This hovel however, joined a cottage of a neat +and pleasant appearance, but after my late dearly bought experience, I +dared not enter it. My place of refuge was constructed of wood, but so +low that I could with difficulty sit upright in it. No wood, however, +was placed on the earth, which formed the floor, but it was dry; and +although the wind entered it by innumerable chinks, I found it an +agreeable asylum from the snow and rain. + +"Here, then, I retreated and lay down happy to have found a shelter, +however miserable, from the inclemency of the season, and still more +from the barbarity of man. As soon as morning dawned I crept from my +kennel, that I might view the adjacent cottage and discover if I could +remain in the habitation I had found. It was situated against the back +of the cottage and surrounded on the sides which were exposed by a pig +sty and a clear pool of water. One part was open, and by that I had +crept in; but now I covered every crevice by which I might be perceived +with stones and wood, yet in such a manner that I might move them on +occasion to pass out; all the light I enjoyed came through the sty, and +that was sufficient for me. + +"Having thus arranged my dwelling and carpeted it with clean straw, I +retired, for I saw the figure of a man at a distance, and I remembered +too well my treatment the night before to trust myself in his power. I +had first, however, provided for my sustenance for that day by a loaf +of coarse bread, which I purloined, and a cup with which I could drink +more conveniently than from my hand of the pure water which flowed by +my retreat. The floor was a little raised, so that it was kept +perfectly dry, and by its vicinity to the chimney of the cottage it was +tolerably warm. + +"Being thus provided, I resolved to reside in this hovel until +something should occur which might alter my determination. It was +indeed a paradise compared to the bleak forest, my former residence, +the rain-dropping branches, and dank earth. I ate my breakfast with +pleasure and was about to remove a plank to procure myself a little +water when I heard a step, and looking through a small chink, I beheld +a young creature, with a pail on her head, passing before my hovel. The +girl was young and of gentle demeanour, unlike what I have since found +cottagers and farmhouse servants to be. Yet she was meanly dressed, a +coarse blue petticoat and a linen jacket being her only garb; her fair +hair was plaited but not adorned: she looked patient yet sad. I lost +sight of her, and in about a quarter of an hour she returned bearing +the pail, which was now partly filled with milk. As she walked along, +seemingly incommoded by the burden, a young man met her, whose +countenance expressed a deeper despondence. Uttering a few sounds with +an air of melancholy, he took the pail from her head and bore it to the +cottage himself. She followed, and they disappeared. Presently I saw +the young man again, with some tools in his hand, cross the field +behind the cottage; and the girl was also busied, sometimes in the +house and sometimes in the yard. + +"On examining my dwelling, I found that one of the windows of the +cottage had formerly occupied a part of it, but the panes had been +filled up with wood. In one of these was a small and almost +imperceptible chink through which the eye could just penetrate. +Through this crevice a small room was visible, whitewashed and clean +but very bare of furniture. In one corner, near a small fire, sat an +old man, leaning his head on his hands in a disconsolate attitude. The +young girl was occupied in arranging the cottage; but presently she +took something out of a drawer, which employed her hands, and she sat +down beside the old man, who, taking up an instrument, began to play +and to produce sounds sweeter than the voice of the thrush or the +nightingale. It was a lovely sight, even to me, poor wretch who had +never beheld aught beautiful before. The silver hair and benevolent +countenance of the aged cottager won my reverence, while the gentle +manners of the girl enticed my love. He played a sweet mournful air +which I perceived drew tears from the eyes of his amiable companion, of +which the old man took no notice, until she sobbed audibly; he then +pronounced a few sounds, and the fair creature, leaving her work, knelt +at his feet. He raised her and smiled with such kindness and affection +that I felt sensations of a peculiar and overpowering nature; they were +a mixture of pain and pleasure, such as I had never before experienced, +either from hunger or cold, warmth or food; and I withdrew from the +window, unable to bear these emotions. + +"Soon after this the young man returned, bearing on his shoulders a +load of wood. The girl met him at the door, helped to relieve him of +his burden, and taking some of the fuel into the cottage, placed it on +the fire; then she and the youth went apart into a nook of the cottage, +and he showed her a large loaf and a piece of cheese. She seemed +pleased and went into the garden for some roots and plants, which she +placed in water, and then upon the fire. She afterwards continued her +work, whilst the young man went into the garden and appeared busily +employed in digging and pulling up roots. After he had been employed +thus about an hour, the young woman joined him and they entered the +cottage together. + +"The old man had, in the meantime, been pensive, but on the appearance +of his companions he assumed a more cheerful air, and they sat down to +eat. The meal was quickly dispatched. The young woman was again +occupied in arranging the cottage, the old man walked before the +cottage in the sun for a few minutes, leaning on the arm of the youth. +Nothing could exceed in beauty the contrast between these two excellent +creatures. One was old, with silver hairs and a countenance beaming +with benevolence and love; the younger was slight and graceful in his +figure, and his features were moulded with the finest symmetry, yet his +eyes and attitude expressed the utmost sadness and despondency. The +old man returned to the cottage, and the youth, with tools different +from those he had used in the morning, directed his steps across the +fields. + +"Night quickly shut in, but to my extreme wonder, I found that the +cottagers had a means of prolonging light by the use of tapers, and was +delighted to find that the setting of the sun did not put an end to the +pleasure I experienced in watching my human neighbours. In the evening +the young girl and her companion were employed in various occupations +which I did not understand; and the old man again took up the +instrument which produced the divine sounds that had enchanted me in +the morning. So soon as he had finished, the youth began, not to play, +but to utter sounds that were monotonous, and neither resembling the +harmony of the old man's instrument nor the songs of the birds; I since +found that he read aloud, but at that time I knew nothing of the +science of words or letters. + +"The family, after having been thus occupied for a short time, +extinguished their lights and retired, as I conjectured, to rest." + + + +Chapter 12 + +"I lay on my straw, but I could not sleep. I thought of the +occurrences of the day. What chiefly struck me was the gentle manners +of these people, and I longed to join them, but dared not. I +remembered too well the treatment I had suffered the night before from +the barbarous villagers, and resolved, whatever course of conduct I +might hereafter think it right to pursue, that for the present I would +remain quietly in my hovel, watching and endeavouring to discover the +motives which influenced their actions. + +"The cottagers arose the next morning before the sun. The young woman +arranged the cottage and prepared the food, and the youth departed +after the first meal. + +"This day was passed in the same routine as that which preceded it. +The young man was constantly employed out of doors, and the girl in +various laborious occupations within. The old man, whom I soon +perceived to be blind, employed his leisure hours on his instrument or +in contemplation. Nothing could exceed the love and respect which the +younger cottagers exhibited towards their venerable companion. They +performed towards him every little office of affection and duty with +gentleness, and he rewarded them by his benevolent smiles. + +"They were not entirely happy. The young man and his companion often +went apart and appeared to weep. I saw no cause for their unhappiness, +but I was deeply affected by it. If such lovely creatures were +miserable, it was less strange that I, an imperfect and solitary being, +should be wretched. Yet why were these gentle beings unhappy? They +possessed a delightful house (for such it was in my eyes) and every +luxury; they had a fire to warm them when chill and delicious viands +when hungry; they were dressed in excellent clothes; and, still more, +they enjoyed one another's company and speech, interchanging each day +looks of affection and kindness. What did their tears imply? Did they +really express pain? I was at first unable to solve these questions, +but perpetual attention and time explained to me many appearances which +were at first enigmatic. + +"A considerable period elapsed before I discovered one of the causes of +the uneasiness of this amiable family: it was poverty, and they +suffered that evil in a very distressing degree. Their nourishment +consisted entirely of the vegetables of their garden and the milk of +one cow, which gave very little during the winter, when its masters +could scarcely procure food to support it. They often, I believe, +suffered the pangs of hunger very poignantly, especially the two +younger cottagers, for several times they placed food before the old +man when they reserved none for themselves. + +"This trait of kindness moved me sensibly. I had been accustomed, +during the night, to steal a part of their store for my own +consumption, but when I found that in doing this I inflicted pain on +the cottagers, I abstained and satisfied myself with berries, nuts, and +roots which I gathered from a neighbouring wood. + +"I discovered also another means through which I was enabled to assist +their labours. I found that the youth spent a great part of each day +in collecting wood for the family fire, and during the night I often +took his tools, the use of which I quickly discovered, and brought home +firing sufficient for the consumption of several days. + +"I remember, the first time that I did this, the young woman, when she +opened the door in the morning, appeared greatly astonished on seeing a +great pile of wood on the outside. She uttered some words in a loud +voice, and the youth joined her, who also expressed surprise. I +observed, with pleasure, that he did not go to the forest that day, but +spent it in repairing the cottage and cultivating the garden. + +"By degrees I made a discovery of still greater moment. I found that +these people possessed a method of communicating their experience and +feelings to one another by articulate sounds. I perceived that the +words they spoke sometimes produced pleasure or pain, smiles or +sadness, in the minds and countenances of the hearers. This was indeed +a godlike science, and I ardently desired to become acquainted with it. +But I was baffled in every attempt I made for this purpose. Their +pronunciation was quick, and the words they uttered, not having any +apparent connection with visible objects, I was unable to discover any +clue by which I could unravel the mystery of their reference. By great +application, however, and after having remained during the space of +several revolutions of the moon in my hovel, I discovered the names +that were given to some of the most familiar objects of discourse; I +learned and applied the words, 'fire,' 'milk,' 'bread,' and 'wood.' I +learned also the names of the cottagers themselves. The youth and his +companion had each of them several names, but the old man had only one, +which was 'father.' The girl was called 'sister' or 'Agatha,' and the +youth 'Felix,' 'brother,' or 'son.' I cannot describe the delight I +felt when I learned the ideas appropriated to each of these sounds and +was able to pronounce them. I distinguished several other words +without being able as yet to understand or apply them, such as 'good,' +'dearest,' 'unhappy.' + +"I spent the winter in this manner. The gentle manners and beauty of +the cottagers greatly endeared them to me; when they were unhappy, I +felt depressed; when they rejoiced, I sympathized in their joys. I saw +few human beings besides them, and if any other happened to enter the +cottage, their harsh manners and rude gait only enhanced to me the +superior accomplishments of my friends. The old man, I could perceive, +often endeavoured to encourage his children, as sometimes I found that +he called them, to cast off their melancholy. He would talk in a +cheerful accent, with an expression of goodness that bestowed pleasure +even upon me. Agatha listened with respect, her eyes sometimes filled +with tears, which she endeavoured to wipe away unperceived; but I +generally found that her countenance and tone were more cheerful after +having listened to the exhortations of her father. It was not thus +with Felix. He was always the saddest of the group, and even to my +unpractised senses, he appeared to have suffered more deeply than his +friends. But if his countenance was more sorrowful, his voice was more +cheerful than that of his sister, especially when he addressed the old +man. + +"I could mention innumerable instances which, although slight, marked +the dispositions of these amiable cottagers. In the midst of poverty +and want, Felix carried with pleasure to his sister the first little +white flower that peeped out from beneath the snowy ground. Early in +the morning, before she had risen, he cleared away the snow that +obstructed her path to the milk-house, drew water from the well, and +brought the wood from the outhouse, where, to his perpetual +astonishment, he found his store always replenished by an invisible +hand. In the day, I believe, he worked sometimes for a neighbouring +farmer, because he often went forth and did not return until dinner, +yet brought no wood with him. At other times he worked in the garden, +but as there was little to do in the frosty season, he read to the old +man and Agatha. + +"This reading had puzzled me extremely at first, but by degrees I +discovered that he uttered many of the same sounds when he read as when +he talked. I conjectured, therefore, that he found on the paper signs +for speech which he understood, and I ardently longed to comprehend +these also; but how was that possible when I did not even understand +the sounds for which they stood as signs? I improved, however, +sensibly in this science, but not sufficiently to follow up any kind of +conversation, although I applied my whole mind to the endeavour, for I +easily perceived that, although I eagerly longed to discover myself to +the cottagers, I ought not to make the attempt until I had first become +master of their language, which knowledge might enable me to make them +overlook the deformity of my figure, for with this also the contrast +perpetually presented to my eyes had made me acquainted. + +"I had admired the perfect forms of my cottagers--their grace, beauty, +and delicate complexions; but how was I terrified when I viewed myself +in a transparent pool! At first I started back, unable to believe that +it was indeed I who was reflected in the mirror; and when I became +fully convinced that I was in reality the monster that I am, I was +filled with the bitterest sensations of despondence and mortification. +Alas! I did not yet entirely know the fatal effects of this miserable +deformity. + +"As the sun became warmer and the light of day longer, the snow +vanished, and I beheld the bare trees and the black earth. From this +time Felix was more employed, and the heart-moving indications of +impending famine disappeared. Their food, as I afterwards found, was +coarse, but it was wholesome; and they procured a sufficiency of it. +Several new kinds of plants sprang up in the garden, which they +dressed; and these signs of comfort increased daily as the season +advanced. + +"The old man, leaning on his son, walked each day at noon, when it did +not rain, as I found it was called when the heavens poured forth its +waters. This frequently took place, but a high wind quickly dried the +earth, and the season became far more pleasant than it had been. + +"My mode of life in my hovel was uniform. During the morning I +attended the motions of the cottagers, and when they were dispersed in +various occupations, I slept; the remainder of the day was spent in +observing my friends. When they had retired to rest, if there was any +moon or the night was star-light, I went into the woods and collected +my own food and fuel for the cottage. When I returned, as often as it +was necessary, I cleared their path from the snow and performed those +offices that I had seen done by Felix. I afterwards found that these +labours, performed by an invisible hand, greatly astonished them; and +once or twice I heard them, on these occasions, utter the words 'good +spirit,' 'wonderful'; but I did not then understand the signification +of these terms. + +"My thoughts now became more active, and I longed to discover the +motives and feelings of these lovely creatures; I was inquisitive to +know why Felix appeared so miserable and Agatha so sad. I thought +(foolish wretch!) that it might be in my power to restore happiness to +these deserving people. When I slept or was absent, the forms of the +venerable blind father, the gentle Agatha, and the excellent Felix +flitted before me. I looked upon them as superior beings who would be +the arbiters of my future destiny. I formed in my imagination a +thousand pictures of presenting myself to them, and their reception of +me. I imagined that they would be disgusted, until, by my gentle +demeanour and conciliating words, I should first win their favour and +afterwards their love. + +"These thoughts exhilarated me and led me to apply with fresh ardour to +the acquiring the art of language. My organs were indeed harsh, but +supple; and although my voice was very unlike the soft music of their +tones, yet I pronounced such words as I understood with tolerable ease. +It was as the ass and the lap-dog; yet surely the gentle ass whose +intentions were affectionate, although his manners were rude, deserved +better treatment than blows and execration. + +"The pleasant showers and genial warmth of spring greatly altered the +aspect of the earth. Men who before this change seemed to have been +hid in caves dispersed themselves and were employed in various arts of +cultivation. The birds sang in more cheerful notes, and the leaves +began to bud forth on the trees. Happy, happy earth! Fit habitation +for gods, which, so short a time before, was bleak, damp, and +unwholesome. My spirits were elevated by the enchanting appearance of +nature; the past was blotted from my memory, the present was tranquil, +and the future gilded by bright rays of hope and anticipations of joy." + + + +Chapter 13 + +"I now hasten to the more moving part of my story. I shall relate +events that impressed me with feelings which, from what I had been, +have made me what I am. + +"Spring advanced rapidly; the weather became fine and the skies +cloudless. It surprised me that what before was desert and gloomy +should now bloom with the most beautiful flowers and verdure. My +senses were gratified and refreshed by a thousand scents of delight and +a thousand sights of beauty. + +"It was on one of these days, when my cottagers periodically rested +from labour--the old man played on his guitar, and the children +listened to him--that I observed the countenance of Felix was +melancholy beyond expression; he sighed frequently, and once his father +paused in his music, and I conjectured by his manner that he inquired +the cause of his son's sorrow. Felix replied in a cheerful accent, and +the old man was recommencing his music when someone tapped at the door. + +"It was a lady on horseback, accompanied by a country-man as a guide. +The lady was dressed in a dark suit and covered with a thick black +veil. Agatha asked a question, to which the stranger only replied by +pronouncing, in a sweet accent, the name of Felix. Her voice was +musical but unlike that of either of my friends. On hearing this word, +Felix came up hastily to the lady, who, when she saw him, threw up her +veil, and I beheld a countenance of angelic beauty and expression. Her +hair of a shining raven black, and curiously braided; her eyes were +dark, but gentle, although animated; her features of a regular +proportion, and her complexion wondrously fair, each cheek tinged with +a lovely pink. + +"Felix seemed ravished with delight when he saw her, every trait of +sorrow vanished from his face, and it instantly expressed a degree of +ecstatic joy, of which I could hardly have believed it capable; his +eyes sparkled, as his cheek flushed with pleasure; and at that moment I +thought him as beautiful as the stranger. She appeared affected by +different feelings; wiping a few tears from her lovely eyes, she held +out her hand to Felix, who kissed it rapturously and called her, as +well as I could distinguish, his sweet Arabian. She did not appear to +understand him, but smiled. He assisted her to dismount, and +dismissing her guide, conducted her into the cottage. Some +conversation took place between him and his father, and the young +stranger knelt at the old man's feet and would have kissed his hand, +but he raised her and embraced her affectionately. + +"I soon perceived that although the stranger uttered articulate sounds +and appeared to have a language of her own, she was neither understood +by nor herself understood the cottagers. They made many signs which I +did not comprehend, but I saw that her presence diffused gladness +through the cottage, dispelling their sorrow as the sun dissipates the +morning mists. Felix seemed peculiarly happy and with smiles of +delight welcomed his Arabian. Agatha, the ever-gentle Agatha, kissed +the hands of the lovely stranger, and pointing to her brother, made +signs which appeared to me to mean that he had been sorrowful until she +came. Some hours passed thus, while they, by their countenances, +expressed joy, the cause of which I did not comprehend. Presently I +found, by the frequent recurrence of some sound which the stranger +repeated after them, that she was endeavouring to learn their language; +and the idea instantly occurred to me that I should make use of the +same instructions to the same end. The stranger learned about twenty +words at the first lesson; most of them, indeed, were those which I had +before understood, but I profited by the others. + +"As night came on, Agatha and the Arabian retired early. When they +separated Felix kissed the hand of the stranger and said, 'Good night +sweet Safie.' He sat up much longer, conversing with his father, and +by the frequent repetition of her name I conjectured that their lovely +guest was the subject of their conversation. I ardently desired to +understand them, and bent every faculty towards that purpose, but found +it utterly impossible. + +"The next morning Felix went out to his work, and after the usual +occupations of Agatha were finished, the Arabian sat at the feet of the +old man, and taking his guitar, played some airs so entrancingly +beautiful that they at once drew tears of sorrow and delight from my +eyes. She sang, and her voice flowed in a rich cadence, swelling or +dying away like a nightingale of the woods. + +"When she had finished, she gave the guitar to Agatha, who at first +declined it. She played a simple air, and her voice accompanied it in +sweet accents, but unlike the wondrous strain of the stranger. The old +man appeared enraptured and said some words which Agatha endeavoured to +explain to Safie, and by which he appeared to wish to express that she +bestowed on him the greatest delight by her music. + +"The days now passed as peaceably as before, with the sole alteration +that joy had taken place of sadness in the countenances of my friends. +Safie was always gay and happy; she and I improved rapidly in the +knowledge of language, so that in two months I began to comprehend most +of the words uttered by my protectors. + +"In the meanwhile also the black ground was covered with herbage, and +the green banks interspersed with innumerable flowers, sweet to the +scent and the eyes, stars of pale radiance among the moonlight woods; +the sun became warmer, the nights clear and balmy; and my nocturnal +rambles were an extreme pleasure to me, although they were considerably +shortened by the late setting and early rising of the sun, for I never +ventured abroad during daylight, fearful of meeting with the same +treatment I had formerly endured in the first village which I entered. + +"My days were spent in close attention, that I might more speedily +master the language; and I may boast that I improved more rapidly than +the Arabian, who understood very little and conversed in broken +accents, whilst I comprehended and could imitate almost every word that +was spoken. + +"While I improved in speech, I also learned the science of letters as +it was taught to the stranger, and this opened before me a wide field +for wonder and delight. + +"The book from which Felix instructed Safie was Volney's Ruins of +Empires. I should not have understood the purport of this book had not +Felix, in reading it, given very minute explanations. He had chosen +this work, he said, because the declamatory style was framed in +imitation of the Eastern authors. Through this work I obtained a +cursory knowledge of history and a view of the several empires at +present existing in the world; it gave me an insight into the manners, +governments, and religions of the different nations of the earth. I +heard of the slothful Asiatics, of the stupendous genius and mental +activity of the Grecians, of the wars and wonderful virtue of the early +Romans--of their subsequent degenerating--of the decline of that mighty +empire, of chivalry, Christianity, and kings. I heard of the discovery +of the American hemisphere and wept with Safie over the hapless fate of +its original inhabitants. + +"These wonderful narrations inspired me with strange feelings. Was +man, indeed, at once so powerful, so virtuous and magnificent, yet so +vicious and base? He appeared at one time a mere scion of the evil +principle and at another as all that can be conceived of noble and +godlike. To be a great and virtuous man appeared the highest honour +that can befall a sensitive being; to be base and vicious, as many on +record have been, appeared the lowest degradation, a condition more +abject than that of the blind mole or harmless worm. For a long time I +could not conceive how one man could go forth to murder his fellow, or +even why there were laws and governments; but when I heard details of +vice and bloodshed, my wonder ceased and I turned away with disgust and +loathing. + +"Every conversation of the cottagers now opened new wonders to me. +While I listened to the instructions which Felix bestowed upon the +Arabian, the strange system of human society was explained to me. I +heard of the division of property, of immense wealth and squalid +poverty, of rank, descent, and noble blood. + +"The words induced me to turn towards myself. I learned that the +possessions most esteemed by your fellow creatures were high and +unsullied descent united with riches. A man might be respected with +only one of these advantages, but without either he was considered, +except in very rare instances, as a vagabond and a slave, doomed to +waste his powers for the profits of the chosen few! And what was I? Of +my creation and creator I was absolutely ignorant, but I knew that I +possessed no money, no friends, no kind of property. I was, besides, +endued with a figure hideously deformed and loathsome; I was not even +of the same nature as man. I was more agile than they and could +subsist upon coarser diet; I bore the extremes of heat and cold with +less injury to my frame; my stature far exceeded theirs. When I looked +around I saw and heard of none like me. Was I, then, a monster, a blot +upon the earth, from which all men fled and whom all men disowned? + +"I cannot describe to you the agony that these reflections inflicted +upon me; I tried to dispel them, but sorrow only increased with +knowledge. Oh, that I had forever remained in my native wood, nor +known nor felt beyond the sensations of hunger, thirst, and heat! + +"Of what a strange nature is knowledge! It clings to the mind when it +has once seized on it like a lichen on the rock. I wished sometimes to +shake off all thought and feeling, but I learned that there was but one +means to overcome the sensation of pain, and that was death--a state +which I feared yet did not understand. I admired virtue and good +feelings and loved the gentle manners and amiable qualities of my +cottagers, but I was shut out from intercourse with them, except +through means which I obtained by stealth, when I was unseen and +unknown, and which rather increased than satisfied the desire I had of +becoming one among my fellows. The gentle words of Agatha and the +animated smiles of the charming Arabian were not for me. The mild +exhortations of the old man and the lively conversation of the loved +Felix were not for me. Miserable, unhappy wretch! + +"Other lessons were impressed upon me even more deeply. I heard of the +difference of sexes, and the birth and growth of children, how the +father doted on the smiles of the infant, and the lively sallies of the +older child, how all the life and cares of the mother were wrapped up +in the precious charge, how the mind of youth expanded and gained +knowledge, of brother, sister, and all the various relationships which +bind one human being to another in mutual bonds. + +"But where were my friends and relations? No father had watched my +infant days, no mother had blessed me with smiles and caresses; or if +they had, all my past life was now a blot, a blind vacancy in which I +distinguished nothing. From my earliest remembrance I had been as I +then was in height and proportion. I had never yet seen a being +resembling me or who claimed any intercourse with me. What was I? The +question again recurred, to be answered only with groans. + +"I will soon explain to what these feelings tended, but allow me now to +return to the cottagers, whose story excited in me such various +feelings of indignation, delight, and wonder, but which all terminated +in additional love and reverence for my protectors (for so I loved, in +an innocent, half-painful self-deceit, to call them)." + + + +Chapter 14 + +"Some time elapsed before I learned the history of my friends. It was +one which could not fail to impress itself deeply on my mind, unfolding +as it did a number of circumstances, each interesting and wonderful to +one so utterly inexperienced as I was. + +"The name of the old man was De Lacey. He was descended from a good +family in France, where he had lived for many years in affluence, +respected by his superiors and beloved by his equals. His son was bred +in the service of his country, and Agatha had ranked with ladies of the +highest distinction. A few months before my arrival they had lived in +a large and luxurious city called Paris, surrounded by friends and +possessed of every enjoyment which virtue, refinement of intellect, or +taste, accompanied by a moderate fortune, could afford. + +"The father of Safie had been the cause of their ruin. He was a +Turkish merchant and had inhabited Paris for many years, when, for some +reason which I could not learn, he became obnoxious to the government. +He was seized and cast into prison the very day that Safie arrived from +Constantinople to join him. He was tried and condemned to death. The +injustice of his sentence was very flagrant; all Paris was indignant; +and it was judged that his religion and wealth rather than the crime +alleged against him had been the cause of his condemnation. + +"Felix had accidentally been present at the trial; his horror and +indignation were uncontrollable when he heard the decision of the +court. He made, at that moment, a solemn vow to deliver him and then +looked around for the means. After many fruitless attempts to gain +admittance to the prison, he found a strongly grated window in an +unguarded part of the building, which lighted the dungeon of the +unfortunate Muhammadan, who, loaded with chains, waited in despair the +execution of the barbarous sentence. Felix visited the grate at night +and made known to the prisoner his intentions in his favour. The Turk, +amazed and delighted, endeavoured to kindle the zeal of his deliverer +by promises of reward and wealth. Felix rejected his offers with +contempt, yet when he saw the lovely Safie, who was allowed to visit +her father and who by her gestures expressed her lively gratitude, the +youth could not help owning to his own mind that the captive possessed +a treasure which would fully reward his toil and hazard. + +"The Turk quickly perceived the impression that his daughter had made +on the heart of Felix and endeavoured to secure him more entirely in +his interests by the promise of her hand in marriage so soon as he +should be conveyed to a place of safety. Felix was too delicate to +accept this offer, yet he looked forward to the probability of the +event as to the consummation of his happiness. + +"During the ensuing days, while the preparations were going forward for +the escape of the merchant, the zeal of Felix was warmed by several +letters that he received from this lovely girl, who found means to +express her thoughts in the language of her lover by the aid of an old +man, a servant of her father who understood French. She thanked him in +the most ardent terms for his intended services towards her parent, and +at the same time she gently deplored her own fate. + +"I have copies of these letters, for I found means, during my residence +in the hovel, to procure the implements of writing; and the letters +were often in the hands of Felix or Agatha. Before I depart I will +give them to you; they will prove the truth of my tale; but at present, +as the sun is already far declined, I shall only have time to repeat +the substance of them to you. + +"Safie related that her mother was a Christian Arab, seized and made a +slave by the Turks; recommended by her beauty, she had won the heart of +the father of Safie, who married her. The young girl spoke in high and +enthusiastic terms of her mother, who, born in freedom, spurned the +bondage to which she was now reduced. She instructed her daughter in +the tenets of her religion and taught her to aspire to higher powers of +intellect and an independence of spirit forbidden to the female +followers of Muhammad. This lady died, but her lessons were indelibly +impressed on the mind of Safie, who sickened at the prospect of again +returning to Asia and being immured within the walls of a harem, +allowed only to occupy herself with infantile amusements, ill-suited to +the temper of her soul, now accustomed to grand ideas and a noble +emulation for virtue. The prospect of marrying a Christian and +remaining in a country where women were allowed to take a rank in +society was enchanting to her. + +"The day for the execution of the Turk was fixed, but on the night +previous to it he quitted his prison and before morning was distant +many leagues from Paris. Felix had procured passports in the name of +his father, sister, and himself. He had previously communicated his +plan to the former, who aided the deceit by quitting his house, under +the pretence of a journey and concealed himself, with his daughter, in +an obscure part of Paris. + +"Felix conducted the fugitives through France to Lyons and across Mont +Cenis to Leghorn, where the merchant had decided to wait a favourable +opportunity of passing into some part of the Turkish dominions. + +"Safie resolved to remain with her father until the moment of his +departure, before which time the Turk renewed his promise that she +should be united to his deliverer; and Felix remained with them in +expectation of that event; and in the meantime he enjoyed the society +of the Arabian, who exhibited towards him the simplest and tenderest +affection. They conversed with one another through the means of an +interpreter, and sometimes with the interpretation of looks; and Safie +sang to him the divine airs of her native country. + +"The Turk allowed this intimacy to take place and encouraged the hopes +of the youthful lovers, while in his heart he had formed far other +plans. He loathed the idea that his daughter should be united to a +Christian, but he feared the resentment of Felix if he should appear +lukewarm, for he knew that he was still in the power of his deliverer +if he should choose to betray him to the Italian state which they +inhabited. He revolved a thousand plans by which he should be enabled +to prolong the deceit until it might be no longer necessary, and +secretly to take his daughter with him when he departed. His plans +were facilitated by the news which arrived from Paris. + +"The government of France were greatly enraged at the escape of their +victim and spared no pains to detect and punish his deliverer. The +plot of Felix was quickly discovered, and De Lacey and Agatha were +thrown into prison. The news reached Felix and roused him from his +dream of pleasure. His blind and aged father and his gentle sister lay +in a noisome dungeon while he enjoyed the free air and the society of +her whom he loved. This idea was torture to him. He quickly arranged +with the Turk that if the latter should find a favourable opportunity +for escape before Felix could return to Italy, Safie should remain as a +boarder at a convent at Leghorn; and then, quitting the lovely Arabian, +he hastened to Paris and delivered himself up to the vengeance of the +law, hoping to free De Lacey and Agatha by this proceeding. + +"He did not succeed. They remained confined for five months before the +trial took place, the result of which deprived them of their fortune +and condemned them to a perpetual exile from their native country. + +"They found a miserable asylum in the cottage in Germany, where I +discovered them. Felix soon learned that the treacherous Turk, for +whom he and his family endured such unheard-of oppression, on +discovering that his deliverer was thus reduced to poverty and ruin, +became a traitor to good feeling and honour and had quitted Italy with +his daughter, insultingly sending Felix a pittance of money to aid him, +as he said, in some plan of future maintenance. + +"Such were the events that preyed on the heart of Felix and rendered +him, when I first saw him, the most miserable of his family. He could +have endured poverty, and while this distress had been the meed of his +virtue, he gloried in it; but the ingratitude of the Turk and the loss +of his beloved Safie were misfortunes more bitter and irreparable. The +arrival of the Arabian now infused new life into his soul. + +"When the news reached Leghorn that Felix was deprived of his wealth +and rank, the merchant commanded his daughter to think no more of her +lover, but to prepare to return to her native country. The generous +nature of Safie was outraged by this command; she attempted to +expostulate with her father, but he left her angrily, reiterating his +tyrannical mandate. + +"A few days after, the Turk entered his daughter's apartment and told +her hastily that he had reason to believe that his residence at Leghorn +had been divulged and that he should speedily be delivered up to the +French government; he had consequently hired a vessel to convey him to +Constantinople, for which city he should sail in a few hours. He +intended to leave his daughter under the care of a confidential +servant, to follow at her leisure with the greater part of his +property, which had not yet arrived at Leghorn. + +"When alone, Safie resolved in her own mind the plan of conduct that it +would become her to pursue in this emergency. A residence in Turkey +was abhorrent to her; her religion and her feelings were alike averse +to it. By some papers of her father which fell into her hands she +heard of the exile of her lover and learnt the name of the spot where +he then resided. She hesitated some time, but at length she formed her +determination. Taking with her some jewels that belonged to her and a +sum of money, she quitted Italy with an attendant, a native of Leghorn, +but who understood the common language of Turkey, and departed for +Germany. + +"She arrived in safety at a town about twenty leagues from the cottage +of De Lacey, when her attendant fell dangerously ill. Safie nursed her +with the most devoted affection, but the poor girl died, and the +Arabian was left alone, unacquainted with the language of the country +and utterly ignorant of the customs of the world. She fell, however, +into good hands. The Italian had mentioned the name of the spot for +which they were bound, and after her death the woman of the house in +which they had lived took care that Safie should arrive in safety at +the cottage of her lover." + + + +Chapter 15 + +"Such was the history of my beloved cottagers. It impressed me deeply. +I learned, from the views of social life which it developed, to admire +their virtues and to deprecate the vices of mankind. + +"As yet I looked upon crime as a distant evil, benevolence and +generosity were ever present before me, inciting within me a desire to +become an actor in the busy scene where so many admirable qualities +were called forth and displayed. But in giving an account of the +progress of my intellect, I must not omit a circumstance which occurred +in the beginning of the month of August of the same year. + +"One night during my accustomed visit to the neighbouring wood where I +collected my own food and brought home firing for my protectors, I +found on the ground a leathern portmanteau containing several articles +of dress and some books. I eagerly seized the prize and returned with +it to my hovel. Fortunately the books were written in the language, +the elements of which I had acquired at the cottage; they consisted of +Paradise Lost, a volume of Plutarch's Lives, and the Sorrows of Werter. +The possession of these treasures gave me extreme delight; I now +continually studied and exercised my mind upon these histories, whilst +my friends were employed in their ordinary occupations. + +"I can hardly describe to you the effect of these books. They produced +in me an infinity of new images and feelings, that sometimes raised me +to ecstasy, but more frequently sunk me into the lowest dejection. In +the Sorrows of Werter, besides the interest of its simple and affecting +story, so many opinions are canvassed and so many lights thrown upon +what had hitherto been to me obscure subjects that I found in it a +never-ending source of speculation and astonishment. The gentle and +domestic manners it described, combined with lofty sentiments and +feelings, which had for their object something out of self, accorded +well with my experience among my protectors and with the wants which +were forever alive in my own bosom. But I thought Werter himself a +more divine being than I had ever beheld or imagined; his character +contained no pretension, but it sank deep. The disquisitions upon +death and suicide were calculated to fill me with wonder. I did not +pretend to enter into the merits of the case, yet I inclined towards +the opinions of the hero, whose extinction I wept, without precisely +understanding it. + +"As I read, however, I applied much personally to my own feelings and +condition. I found myself similar yet at the same time strangely +unlike to the beings concerning whom I read and to whose conversation I +was a listener. I sympathized with and partly understood them, but I +was unformed in mind; I was dependent on none and related to none. +'The path of my departure was free,' and there was none to lament my +annihilation. My person was hideous and my stature gigantic. What did +this mean? Who was I? What was I? Whence did I come? What was my +destination? These questions continually recurred, but I was unable to +solve them. + +"The volume of Plutarch's Lives which I possessed contained the +histories of the first founders of the ancient republics. This book +had a far different effect upon me from the Sorrows of Werter. I +learned from Werter's imaginations despondency and gloom, but Plutarch +taught me high thoughts; he elevated me above the wretched sphere of my +own reflections, to admire and love the heroes of past ages. Many +things I read surpassed my understanding and experience. I had a very +confused knowledge of kingdoms, wide extents of country, mighty rivers, +and boundless seas. But I was perfectly unacquainted with towns and +large assemblages of men. The cottage of my protectors had been the +only school in which I had studied human nature, but this book +developed new and mightier scenes of action. I read of men concerned +in public affairs, governing or massacring their species. I felt the +greatest ardour for virtue rise within me, and abhorrence for vice, as +far as I understood the signification of those terms, relative as they +were, as I applied them, to pleasure and pain alone. Induced by these +feelings, I was of course led to admire peaceable lawgivers, Numa, +Solon, and Lycurgus, in preference to Romulus and Theseus. The +patriarchal lives of my protectors caused these impressions to take a +firm hold on my mind; perhaps, if my first introduction to humanity had +been made by a young soldier, burning for glory and slaughter, I should +have been imbued with different sensations. + +"But Paradise Lost excited different and far deeper emotions. I read +it, as I had read the other volumes which had fallen into my hands, as +a true history. It moved every feeling of wonder and awe that the +picture of an omnipotent God warring with his creatures was capable of +exciting. I often referred the several situations, as their similarity +struck me, to my own. Like Adam, I was apparently united by no link to +any other being in existence; but his state was far different from mine +in every other respect. He had come forth from the hands of God a +perfect creature, happy and prosperous, guarded by the especial care of +his Creator; he was allowed to converse with and acquire knowledge from +beings of a superior nature, but I was wretched, helpless, and alone. +Many times I considered Satan as the fitter emblem of my condition, for +often, like him, when I viewed the bliss of my protectors, the bitter +gall of envy rose within me. + +"Another circumstance strengthened and confirmed these feelings. Soon +after my arrival in the hovel I discovered some papers in the pocket of +the dress which I had taken from your laboratory. At first I had +neglected them, but now that I was able to decipher the characters in +which they were written, I began to study them with diligence. It was +your journal of the four months that preceded my creation. You +minutely described in these papers every step you took in the progress +of your work; this history was mingled with accounts of domestic +occurrences. You doubtless recollect these papers. Here they are. +Everything is related in them which bears reference to my accursed +origin; the whole detail of that series of disgusting circumstances +which produced it is set in view; the minutest description of my odious +and loathsome person is given, in language which painted your own +horrors and rendered mine indelible. I sickened as I read. 'Hateful +day when I received life!' I exclaimed in agony. 'Accursed creator! +Why did you form a monster so hideous that even YOU turned from me in +disgust? God, in pity, made man beautiful and alluring, after his own +image; but my form is a filthy type of yours, more horrid even from the +very resemblance. Satan had his companions, fellow devils, to admire +and encourage him, but I am solitary and abhorred.' + +"These were the reflections of my hours of despondency and solitude; +but when I contemplated the virtues of the cottagers, their amiable and +benevolent dispositions, I persuaded myself that when they should +become acquainted with my admiration of their virtues they would +compassionate me and overlook my personal deformity. Could they turn +from their door one, however monstrous, who solicited their compassion +and friendship? I resolved, at least, not to despair, but in every way +to fit myself for an interview with them which would decide my fate. I +postponed this attempt for some months longer, for the importance +attached to its success inspired me with a dread lest I should fail. +Besides, I found that my understanding improved so much with every +day's experience that I was unwilling to commence this undertaking +until a few more months should have added to my sagacity. + +"Several changes, in the meantime, took place in the cottage. The +presence of Safie diffused happiness among its inhabitants, and I also +found that a greater degree of plenty reigned there. Felix and Agatha +spent more time in amusement and conversation, and were assisted in +their labours by servants. They did not appear rich, but they were +contented and happy; their feelings were serene and peaceful, while +mine became every day more tumultuous. Increase of knowledge only +discovered to me more clearly what a wretched outcast I was. I +cherished hope, it is true, but it vanished when I beheld my person +reflected in water or my shadow in the moonshine, even as that frail +image and that inconstant shade. + +"I endeavoured to crush these fears and to fortify myself for the trial +which in a few months I resolved to undergo; and sometimes I allowed my +thoughts, unchecked by reason, to ramble in the fields of Paradise, and +dared to fancy amiable and lovely creatures sympathizing with my +feelings and cheering my gloom; their angelic countenances breathed +smiles of consolation. But it was all a dream; no Eve soothed my +sorrows nor shared my thoughts; I was alone. I remembered Adam's +supplication to his Creator. But where was mine? He had abandoned me, +and in the bitterness of my heart I cursed him. + +"Autumn passed thus. I saw, with surprise and grief, the leaves decay +and fall, and nature again assume the barren and bleak appearance it +had worn when I first beheld the woods and the lovely moon. Yet I did +not heed the bleakness of the weather; I was better fitted by my +conformation for the endurance of cold than heat. But my chief +delights were the sight of the flowers, the birds, and all the gay +apparel of summer; when those deserted me, I turned with more attention +towards the cottagers. Their happiness was not decreased by the +absence of summer. They loved and sympathized with one another; and +their joys, depending on each other, were not interrupted by the +casualties that took place around them. The more I saw of them, the +greater became my desire to claim their protection and kindness; my +heart yearned to be known and loved by these amiable creatures; to see +their sweet looks directed towards me with affection was the utmost +limit of my ambition. I dared not think that they would turn them from +me with disdain and horror. The poor that stopped at their door were +never driven away. I asked, it is true, for greater treasures than a +little food or rest: I required kindness and sympathy; but I did not +believe myself utterly unworthy of it. + +"The winter advanced, and an entire revolution of the seasons had taken +place since I awoke into life. My attention at this time was solely +directed towards my plan of introducing myself into the cottage of my +protectors. I revolved many projects, but that on which I finally +fixed was to enter the dwelling when the blind old man should be alone. +I had sagacity enough to discover that the unnatural hideousness of my +person was the chief object of horror with those who had formerly +beheld me. My voice, although harsh, had nothing terrible in it; I +thought, therefore, that if in the absence of his children I could gain +the good will and mediation of the old De Lacey, I might by his means +be tolerated by my younger protectors. + +"One day, when the sun shone on the red leaves that strewed the ground +and diffused cheerfulness, although it denied warmth, Safie, Agatha, +and Felix departed on a long country walk, and the old man, at his own +desire, was left alone in the cottage. When his children had departed, +he took up his guitar and played several mournful but sweet airs, more +sweet and mournful than I had ever heard him play before. At first his +countenance was illuminated with pleasure, but as he continued, +thoughtfulness and sadness succeeded; at length, laying aside the +instrument, he sat absorbed in reflection. + +"My heart beat quick; this was the hour and moment of trial, which +would decide my hopes or realize my fears. The servants were gone to a +neighbouring fair. All was silent in and around the cottage; it was an +excellent opportunity; yet, when I proceeded to execute my plan, my +limbs failed me and I sank to the ground. Again I rose, and exerting +all the firmness of which I was master, removed the planks which I had +placed before my hovel to conceal my retreat. The fresh air revived +me, and with renewed determination I approached the door of their +cottage. + +"I knocked. 'Who is there?' said the old man. 'Come in.' + +"I entered. 'Pardon this intrusion,' said I; 'I am a traveller in want +of a little rest; you would greatly oblige me if you would allow me to +remain a few minutes before the fire.' + +"'Enter,' said De Lacey, 'and I will try in what manner I can to +relieve your wants; but, unfortunately, my children are from home, and +as I am blind, I am afraid I shall find it difficult to procure food +for you.' + +"'Do not trouble yourself, my kind host; I have food; it is warmth and +rest only that I need.' + +"I sat down, and a silence ensued. I knew that every minute was +precious to me, yet I remained irresolute in what manner to commence +the interview, when the old man addressed me. 'By your language, +stranger, I suppose you are my countryman; are you French?' + +"'No; but I was educated by a French family and understand that +language only. I am now going to claim the protection of some friends, +whom I sincerely love, and of whose favour I have some hopes.' + +"'Are they Germans?' + +"'No, they are French. But let us change the subject. I am an +unfortunate and deserted creature, I look around and I have no relation +or friend upon earth. These amiable people to whom I go have never +seen me and know little of me. I am full of fears, for if I fail +there, I am an outcast in the world forever.' + +"'Do not despair. To be friendless is indeed to be unfortunate, but +the hearts of men, when unprejudiced by any obvious self-interest, are +full of brotherly love and charity. Rely, therefore, on your hopes; +and if these friends are good and amiable, do not despair.' + +"'They are kind--they are the most excellent creatures in the world; +but, unfortunately, they are prejudiced against me. I have good +dispositions; my life has been hitherto harmless and in some degree +beneficial; but a fatal prejudice clouds their eyes, and where they +ought to see a feeling and kind friend, they behold only a detestable +monster.' + +"'That is indeed unfortunate; but if you are really blameless, cannot +you undeceive them?' + +"'I am about to undertake that task; and it is on that account that I +feel so many overwhelming terrors. I tenderly love these friends; I +have, unknown to them, been for many months in the habits of daily +kindness towards them; but they believe that I wish to injure them, and +it is that prejudice which I wish to overcome.' + +"'Where do these friends reside?' + +"'Near this spot.' + +"The old man paused and then continued, 'If you will unreservedly +confide to me the particulars of your tale, I perhaps may be of use in +undeceiving them. I am blind and cannot judge of your countenance, but +there is something in your words which persuades me that you are +sincere. I am poor and an exile, but it will afford me true pleasure +to be in any way serviceable to a human creature.' + +"'Excellent man! I thank you and accept your generous offer. You +raise me from the dust by this kindness; and I trust that, by your aid, +I shall not be driven from the society and sympathy of your fellow +creatures.' + +"'Heaven forbid! Even if you were really criminal, for that can only +drive you to desperation, and not instigate you to virtue. I also am +unfortunate; I and my family have been condemned, although innocent; +judge, therefore, if I do not feel for your misfortunes.' + +"'How can I thank you, my best and only benefactor? From your lips +first have I heard the voice of kindness directed towards me; I shall +be forever grateful; and your present humanity assures me of success +with those friends whom I am on the point of meeting.' + +"'May I know the names and residence of those friends?' + +"I paused. This, I thought, was the moment of decision, which was to +rob me of or bestow happiness on me forever. I struggled vainly for +firmness sufficient to answer him, but the effort destroyed all my +remaining strength; I sank on the chair and sobbed aloud. At that +moment I heard the steps of my younger protectors. I had not a moment +to lose, but seizing the hand of the old man, I cried, 'Now is the +time! Save and protect me! You and your family are the friends whom I +seek. Do not you desert me in the hour of trial!' + +"'Great God!' exclaimed the old man. 'Who are you?' + +"At that instant the cottage door was opened, and Felix, Safie, and +Agatha entered. Who can describe their horror and consternation on +beholding me? Agatha fainted, and Safie, unable to attend to her +friend, rushed out of the cottage. Felix darted forward, and with +supernatural force tore me from his father, to whose knees I clung, in +a transport of fury, he dashed me to the ground and struck me violently +with a stick. I could have torn him limb from limb, as the lion rends +the antelope. But my heart sank within me as with bitter sickness, and +I refrained. I saw him on the point of repeating his blow, when, +overcome by pain and anguish, I quitted the cottage, and in the general +tumult escaped unperceived to my hovel." + + + +Chapter 16 + +"Cursed, cursed creator! Why did I live? Why, in that instant, did I +not extinguish the spark of existence which you had so wantonly +bestowed? I know not; despair had not yet taken possession of me; my +feelings were those of rage and revenge. I could with pleasure have +destroyed the cottage and its inhabitants and have glutted myself with +their shrieks and misery. + +"When night came I quitted my retreat and wandered in the wood; and +now, no longer restrained by the fear of discovery, I gave vent to my +anguish in fearful howlings. I was like a wild beast that had broken +the toils, destroying the objects that obstructed me and ranging +through the wood with a stag-like swiftness. Oh! What a miserable +night I passed! The cold stars shone in mockery, and the bare trees +waved their branches above me; now and then the sweet voice of a bird +burst forth amidst the universal stillness. All, save I, were at rest +or in enjoyment; I, like the arch-fiend, bore a hell within me, and +finding myself unsympathized with, wished to tear up the trees, spread +havoc and destruction around me, and then to have sat down and enjoyed +the ruin. + +"But this was a luxury of sensation that could not endure; I became +fatigued with excess of bodily exertion and sank on the damp grass in +the sick impotence of despair. There was none among the myriads of men +that existed who would pity or assist me; and should I feel kindness +towards my enemies? No; from that moment I declared everlasting war +against the species, and more than all, against him who had formed me +and sent me forth to this insupportable misery. + +"The sun rose; I heard the voices of men and knew that it was +impossible to return to my retreat during that day. Accordingly I hid +myself in some thick underwood, determining to devote the ensuing hours +to reflection on my situation. + +"The pleasant sunshine and the pure air of day restored me to some +degree of tranquillity; and when I considered what had passed at the +cottage, I could not help believing that I had been too hasty in my +conclusions. I had certainly acted imprudently. It was apparent that +my conversation had interested the father in my behalf, and I was a +fool in having exposed my person to the horror of his children. I +ought to have familiarized the old De Lacey to me, and by degrees to +have discovered myself to the rest of his family, when they should have +been prepared for my approach. But I did not believe my errors to be +irretrievable, and after much consideration I resolved to return to the +cottage, seek the old man, and by my representations win him to my +party. + +"These thoughts calmed me, and in the afternoon I sank into a profound +sleep; but the fever of my blood did not allow me to be visited by +peaceful dreams. The horrible scene of the preceding day was forever +acting before my eyes; the females were flying and the enraged Felix +tearing me from his father's feet. I awoke exhausted, and finding that +it was already night, I crept forth from my hiding-place, and went in +search of food. + +"When my hunger was appeased, I directed my steps towards the +well-known path that conducted to the cottage. All there was at peace. +I crept into my hovel and remained in silent expectation of the +accustomed hour when the family arose. That hour passed, the sun +mounted high in the heavens, but the cottagers did not appear. I +trembled violently, apprehending some dreadful misfortune. The inside +of the cottage was dark, and I heard no motion; I cannot describe the +agony of this suspense. + +"Presently two countrymen passed by, but pausing near the cottage, they +entered into conversation, using violent gesticulations; but I did not +understand what they said, as they spoke the language of the country, +which differed from that of my protectors. Soon after, however, Felix +approached with another man; I was surprised, as I knew that he had not +quitted the cottage that morning, and waited anxiously to discover from +his discourse the meaning of these unusual appearances. + +"'Do you consider,' said his companion to him, 'that you will be +obliged to pay three months' rent and to lose the produce of your +garden? I do not wish to take any unfair advantage, and I beg +therefore that you will take some days to consider of your +determination.' + +"'It is utterly useless,' replied Felix; 'we can never again inhabit +your cottage. The life of my father is in the greatest danger, owing +to the dreadful circumstance that I have related. My wife and my +sister will never recover from their horror. I entreat you not to +reason with me any more. Take possession of your tenement and let me +fly from this place.' + +"Felix trembled violently as he said this. He and his companion +entered the cottage, in which they remained for a few minutes, and then +departed. I never saw any of the family of De Lacey more. + +"I continued for the remainder of the day in my hovel in a state of +utter and stupid despair. My protectors had departed and had broken +the only link that held me to the world. For the first time the +feelings of revenge and hatred filled my bosom, and I did not strive to +control them, but allowing myself to be borne away by the stream, I +bent my mind towards injury and death. When I thought of my friends, +of the mild voice of De Lacey, the gentle eyes of Agatha, and the +exquisite beauty of the Arabian, these thoughts vanished and a gush of +tears somewhat soothed me. But again when I reflected that they had +spurned and deserted me, anger returned, a rage of anger, and unable to +injure anything human, I turned my fury towards inanimate objects. As +night advanced I placed a variety of combustibles around the cottage, +and after having destroyed every vestige of cultivation in the garden, +I waited with forced impatience until the moon had sunk to commence my +operations. + +"As the night advanced, a fierce wind arose from the woods and quickly +dispersed the clouds that had loitered in the heavens; the blast tore +along like a mighty avalanche and produced a kind of insanity in my +spirits that burst all bounds of reason and reflection. I lighted the +dry branch of a tree and danced with fury around the devoted cottage, +my eyes still fixed on the western horizon, the edge of which the moon +nearly touched. A part of its orb was at length hid, and I waved my +brand; it sank, and with a loud scream I fired the straw, and heath, +and bushes, which I had collected. The wind fanned the fire, and the +cottage was quickly enveloped by the flames, which clung to it and +licked it with their forked and destroying tongues. + +"As soon as I was convinced that no assistance could save any part of +the habitation, I quitted the scene and sought for refuge in the woods. + +"And now, with the world before me, whither should I bend my steps? I +resolved to fly far from the scene of my misfortunes; but to me, hated +and despised, every country must be equally horrible. At length the +thought of you crossed my mind. I learned from your papers that you +were my father, my creator; and to whom could I apply with more fitness +than to him who had given me life? Among the lessons that Felix had +bestowed upon Safie, geography had not been omitted; I had learned from +these the relative situations of the different countries of the earth. +You had mentioned Geneva as the name of your native town, and towards +this place I resolved to proceed. + +"But how was I to direct myself? I knew that I must travel in a +southwesterly direction to reach my destination, but the sun was my +only guide. I did not know the names of the towns that I was to pass +through, nor could I ask information from a single human being; but I +did not despair. From you only could I hope for succour, although +towards you I felt no sentiment but that of hatred. Unfeeling, +heartless creator! You had endowed me with perceptions and passions +and then cast me abroad an object for the scorn and horror of mankind. +But on you only had I any claim for pity and redress, and from you I +determined to seek that justice which I vainly attempted to gain from +any other being that wore the human form. + +"My travels were long and the sufferings I endured intense. It was +late in autumn when I quitted the district where I had so long resided. +I travelled only at night, fearful of encountering the visage of a +human being. Nature decayed around me, and the sun became heatless; +rain and snow poured around me; mighty rivers were frozen; the surface +of the earth was hard and chill, and bare, and I found no shelter. Oh, +earth! How often did I imprecate curses on the cause of my being! The +mildness of my nature had fled, and all within me was turned to gall +and bitterness. The nearer I approached to your habitation, the more +deeply did I feel the spirit of revenge enkindled in my heart. Snow +fell, and the waters were hardened, but I rested not. A few incidents +now and then directed me, and I possessed a map of the country; but I +often wandered wide from my path. The agony of my feelings allowed me +no respite; no incident occurred from which my rage and misery could +not extract its food; but a circumstance that happened when I arrived +on the confines of Switzerland, when the sun had recovered its warmth +and the earth again began to look green, confirmed in an especial +manner the bitterness and horror of my feelings. + +"I generally rested during the day and travelled only when I was +secured by night from the view of man. One morning, however, finding +that my path lay through a deep wood, I ventured to continue my journey +after the sun had risen; the day, which was one of the first of spring, +cheered even me by the loveliness of its sunshine and the balminess of +the air. I felt emotions of gentleness and pleasure, that had long +appeared dead, revive within me. Half surprised by the novelty of +these sensations, I allowed myself to be borne away by them, and +forgetting my solitude and deformity, dared to be happy. Soft tears +again bedewed my cheeks, and I even raised my humid eyes with +thankfulness towards the blessed sun, which bestowed such joy upon me. + +"I continued to wind among the paths of the wood, until I came to its +boundary, which was skirted by a deep and rapid river, into which many +of the trees bent their branches, now budding with the fresh spring. +Here I paused, not exactly knowing what path to pursue, when I heard +the sound of voices, that induced me to conceal myself under the shade +of a cypress. I was scarcely hid when a young girl came running +towards the spot where I was concealed, laughing, as if she ran from +someone in sport. She continued her course along the precipitous sides +of the river, when suddenly her foot slipped, and she fell into the +rapid stream. I rushed from my hiding-place and with extreme labour, +from the force of the current, saved her and dragged her to shore. She +was senseless, and I endeavoured by every means in my power to restore +animation, when I was suddenly interrupted by the approach of a rustic, +who was probably the person from whom she had playfully fled. On +seeing me, he darted towards me, and tearing the girl from my arms, +hastened towards the deeper parts of the wood. I followed speedily, I +hardly knew why; but when the man saw me draw near, he aimed a gun, +which he carried, at my body and fired. I sank to the ground, and my +injurer, with increased swiftness, escaped into the wood. + +"This was then the reward of my benevolence! I had saved a human being +from destruction, and as a recompense I now writhed under the miserable +pain of a wound which shattered the flesh and bone. The feelings of +kindness and gentleness which I had entertained but a few moments +before gave place to hellish rage and gnashing of teeth. Inflamed by +pain, I vowed eternal hatred and vengeance to all mankind. But the +agony of my wound overcame me; my pulses paused, and I fainted. + +"For some weeks I led a miserable life in the woods, endeavouring to +cure the wound which I had received. The ball had entered my shoulder, +and I knew not whether it had remained there or passed through; at any +rate I had no means of extracting it. My sufferings were augmented +also by the oppressive sense of the injustice and ingratitude of their +infliction. My daily vows rose for revenge--a deep and deadly revenge, +such as would alone compensate for the outrages and anguish I had +endured. + +"After some weeks my wound healed, and I continued my journey. The +labours I endured were no longer to be alleviated by the bright sun or +gentle breezes of spring; all joy was but a mockery which insulted my +desolate state and made me feel more painfully that I was not made for +the enjoyment of pleasure. + +"But my toils now drew near a close, and in two months from this time I +reached the environs of Geneva. + +"It was evening when I arrived, and I retired to a hiding-place among +the fields that surround it to meditate in what manner I should apply +to you. I was oppressed by fatigue and hunger and far too unhappy to +enjoy the gentle breezes of evening or the prospect of the sun setting +behind the stupendous mountains of Jura. + +"At this time a slight sleep relieved me from the pain of reflection, +which was disturbed by the approach of a beautiful child, who came +running into the recess I had chosen, with all the sportiveness of +infancy. Suddenly, as I gazed on him, an idea seized me that this +little creature was unprejudiced and had lived too short a time to have +imbibed a horror of deformity. If, therefore, I could seize him and +educate him as my companion and friend, I should not be so desolate in +this peopled earth. + +"Urged by this impulse, I seized on the boy as he passed and drew him +towards me. As soon as he beheld my form, he placed his hands before +his eyes and uttered a shrill scream; I drew his hand forcibly from his +face and said, 'Child, what is the meaning of this? I do not intend to +hurt you; listen to me.' + +"He struggled violently. 'Let me go,' he cried; 'monster! Ugly +wretch! You wish to eat me and tear me to pieces. You are an ogre. +Let me go, or I will tell my papa.' + +"'Boy, you will never see your father again; you must come with me.' + +"'Hideous monster! Let me go. My papa is a syndic--he is M. +Frankenstein--he will punish you. You dare not keep me.' + +"'Frankenstein! you belong then to my enemy--to him towards whom I have +sworn eternal revenge; you shall be my first victim.' + +"The child still struggled and loaded me with epithets which carried +despair to my heart; I grasped his throat to silence him, and in a +moment he lay dead at my feet. + +"I gazed on my victim, and my heart swelled with exultation and hellish +triumph; clapping my hands, I exclaimed, 'I too can create desolation; +my enemy is not invulnerable; this death will carry despair to him, and +a thousand other miseries shall torment and destroy him.' + +"As I fixed my eyes on the child, I saw something glittering on his +breast. I took it; it was a portrait of a most lovely woman. In spite +of my malignity, it softened and attracted me. For a few moments I +gazed with delight on her dark eyes, fringed by deep lashes, and her +lovely lips; but presently my rage returned; I remembered that I was +forever deprived of the delights that such beautiful creatures could +bestow and that she whose resemblance I contemplated would, in +regarding me, have changed that air of divine benignity to one +expressive of disgust and affright. + +"Can you wonder that such thoughts transported me with rage? I only +wonder that at that moment, instead of venting my sensations in +exclamations and agony, I did not rush among mankind and perish in the +attempt to destroy them. + +"While I was overcome by these feelings, I left the spot where I had +committed the murder, and seeking a more secluded hiding-place, I +entered a barn which had appeared to me to be empty. A woman was +sleeping on some straw; she was young, not indeed so beautiful as her +whose portrait I held, but of an agreeable aspect and blooming in the +loveliness of youth and health. Here, I thought, is one of those whose +joy-imparting smiles are bestowed on all but me. And then I bent over +her and whispered, 'Awake, fairest, thy lover is near--he who would +give his life but to obtain one look of affection from thine eyes; my +beloved, awake!' + +"The sleeper stirred; a thrill of terror ran through me. Should she +indeed awake, and see me, and curse me, and denounce the murderer? Thus +would she assuredly act if her darkened eyes opened and she beheld me. +The thought was madness; it stirred the fiend within me--not I, but +she, shall suffer; the murder I have committed because I am forever +robbed of all that she could give me, she shall atone. The crime had +its source in her; be hers the punishment! Thanks to the lessons of +Felix and the sanguinary laws of man, I had learned now to work +mischief. I bent over her and placed the portrait securely in one of +the folds of her dress. She moved again, and I fled. + +"For some days I haunted the spot where these scenes had taken place, +sometimes wishing to see you, sometimes resolved to quit the world and +its miseries forever. At length I wandered towards these mountains, +and have ranged through their immense recesses, consumed by a burning +passion which you alone can gratify. We may not part until you have +promised to comply with my requisition. I am alone and miserable; man +will not associate with me; but one as deformed and horrible as myself +would not deny herself to me. My companion must be of the same species +and have the same defects. This being you must create." + + + +Chapter 17 + +The being finished speaking and fixed his looks upon me in the +expectation of a reply. But I was bewildered, perplexed, and unable to +arrange my ideas sufficiently to understand the full extent of his +proposition. He continued, + +"You must create a female for me with whom I can live in the +interchange of those sympathies necessary for my being. This you alone +can do, and I demand it of you as a right which you must not refuse to +concede." + +The latter part of his tale had kindled anew in me the anger that had +died away while he narrated his peaceful life among the cottagers, and +as he said this I could no longer suppress the rage that burned within +me. + +"I do refuse it," I replied; "and no torture shall ever extort a +consent from me. You may render me the most miserable of men, but you +shall never make me base in my own eyes. Shall I create another like +yourself, whose joint wickedness might desolate the world. Begone! I +have answered you; you may torture me, but I will never consent." + +"You are in the wrong," replied the fiend; "and instead of threatening, +I am content to reason with you. I am malicious because I am +miserable. Am I not shunned and hated by all mankind? You, my +creator, would tear me to pieces and triumph; remember that, and tell +me why I should pity man more than he pities me? You would not call it +murder if you could precipitate me into one of those ice-rifts and +destroy my frame, the work of your own hands. Shall I respect man when +he condemns me? Let him live with me in the interchange of kindness, +and instead of injury I would bestow every benefit upon him with tears +of gratitude at his acceptance. But that cannot be; the human senses +are insurmountable barriers to our union. Yet mine shall not be the +submission of abject slavery. I will revenge my injuries; if I cannot +inspire love, I will cause fear, and chiefly towards you my arch-enemy, +because my creator, do I swear inextinguishable hatred. Have a care; I +will work at your destruction, nor finish until I desolate your heart, +so that you shall curse the hour of your birth." + +A fiendish rage animated him as he said this; his face was wrinkled +into contortions too horrible for human eyes to behold; but presently +he calmed himself and proceeded-- + +"I intended to reason. This passion is detrimental to me, for you do +not reflect that YOU are the cause of its excess. If any being felt +emotions of benevolence towards me, I should return them a hundred and +a hundredfold; for that one creature's sake I would make peace with the +whole kind! But I now indulge in dreams of bliss that cannot be +realized. What I ask of you is reasonable and moderate; I demand a +creature of another sex, but as hideous as myself; the gratification is +small, but it is all that I can receive, and it shall content me. It +is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that +account we shall be more attached to one another. Our lives will not +be happy, but they will be harmless and free from the misery I now +feel. Oh! My creator, make me happy; let me feel gratitude towards +you for one benefit! Let me see that I excite the sympathy of some +existing thing; do not deny me my request!" + +I was moved. I shuddered when I thought of the possible consequences +of my consent, but I felt that there was some justice in his argument. +His tale and the feelings he now expressed proved him to be a creature +of fine sensations, and did I not as his maker owe him all the portion +of happiness that it was in my power to bestow? He saw my change of +feeling and continued, + +"If you consent, neither you nor any other human being shall ever see +us again; I will go to the vast wilds of South America. My food is not +that of man; I do not destroy the lamb and the kid to glut my appetite; +acorns and berries afford me sufficient nourishment. My companion will +be of the same nature as myself and will be content with the same fare. +We shall make our bed of dried leaves; the sun will shine on us as on +man and will ripen our food. The picture I present to you is peaceful +and human, and you must feel that you could deny it only in the +wantonness of power and cruelty. Pitiless as you have been towards me, +I now see compassion in your eyes; let me seize the favourable moment +and persuade you to promise what I so ardently desire." + +"You propose," replied I, "to fly from the habitations of man, to dwell +in those wilds where the beasts of the field will be your only +companions. How can you, who long for the love and sympathy of man, +persevere in this exile? You will return and again seek their +kindness, and you will meet with their detestation; your evil passions +will be renewed, and you will then have a companion to aid you in the +task of destruction. This may not be; cease to argue the point, for I +cannot consent." + +"How inconstant are your feelings! But a moment ago you were moved by +my representations, and why do you again harden yourself to my +complaints? I swear to you, by the earth which I inhabit, and by you +that made me, that with the companion you bestow I will quit the +neighbourhood of man and dwell, as it may chance, in the most savage of +places. My evil passions will have fled, for I shall meet with +sympathy! My life will flow quietly away, and in my dying moments I +shall not curse my maker." + +His words had a strange effect upon me. I compassionated him and +sometimes felt a wish to console him, but when I looked upon him, when +I saw the filthy mass that moved and talked, my heart sickened and my +feelings were altered to those of horror and hatred. I tried to stifle +these sensations; I thought that as I could not sympathize with him, I +had no right to withhold from him the small portion of happiness which +was yet in my power to bestow. + +"You swear," I said, "to be harmless; but have you not already shown a +degree of malice that should reasonably make me distrust you? May not +even this be a feint that will increase your triumph by affording a +wider scope for your revenge?" + +"How is this? I must not be trifled with, and I demand an answer. If +I have no ties and no affections, hatred and vice must be my portion; +the love of another will destroy the cause of my crimes, and I shall +become a thing of whose existence everyone will be ignorant. My vices +are the children of a forced solitude that I abhor, and my virtues will +necessarily arise when I live in communion with an equal. I shall feel +the affections of a sensitive being and become linked to the chain of +existence and events from which I am now excluded." + +I paused some time to reflect on all he had related and the various +arguments which he had employed. I thought of the promise of virtues +which he had displayed on the opening of his existence and the +subsequent blight of all kindly feeling by the loathing and scorn which +his protectors had manifested towards him. His power and threats were +not omitted in my calculations; a creature who could exist in the ice +caves of the glaciers and hide himself from pursuit among the ridges of +inaccessible precipices was a being possessing faculties it would be +vain to cope with. After a long pause of reflection I concluded that +the justice due both to him and my fellow creatures demanded of me that +I should comply with his request. Turning to him, therefore, I said, + +"I consent to your demand, on your solemn oath to quit Europe forever, +and every other place in the neighbourhood of man, as soon as I shall +deliver into your hands a female who will accompany you in your exile." + +"I swear," he cried, "by the sun, and by the blue sky of heaven, and by +the fire of love that burns my heart, that if you grant my prayer, +while they exist you shall never behold me again. Depart to your home +and commence your labours; I shall watch their progress with +unutterable anxiety; and fear not but that when you are ready I shall +appear." + +Saying this, he suddenly quitted me, fearful, perhaps, of any change in +my sentiments. I saw him descend the mountain with greater speed than +the flight of an eagle, and quickly lost among the undulations of the +sea of ice. + +His tale had occupied the whole day, and the sun was upon the verge of +the horizon when he departed. I knew that I ought to hasten my descent +towards the valley, as I should soon be encompassed in darkness; but my +heart was heavy, and my steps slow. The labour of winding among the +little paths of the mountain and fixing my feet firmly as I advanced +perplexed me, occupied as I was by the emotions which the occurrences +of the day had produced. Night was far advanced when I came to the +halfway resting-place and seated myself beside the fountain. The stars +shone at intervals as the clouds passed from over them; the dark pines +rose before me, and every here and there a broken tree lay on the +ground; it was a scene of wonderful solemnity and stirred strange +thoughts within me. I wept bitterly, and clasping my hands in agony, I +exclaimed, "Oh! Stars and clouds and winds, ye are all about to mock +me; if ye really pity me, crush sensation and memory; let me become as +nought; but if not, depart, depart, and leave me in darkness." + +These were wild and miserable thoughts, but I cannot describe to you +how the eternal twinkling of the stars weighed upon me and how I +listened to every blast of wind as if it were a dull ugly siroc on its +way to consume me. + +Morning dawned before I arrived at the village of Chamounix; I took no +rest, but returned immediately to Geneva. Even in my own heart I could +give no expression to my sensations--they weighed on me with a +mountain's weight and their excess destroyed my agony beneath them. +Thus I returned home, and entering the house, presented myself to the +family. My haggard and wild appearance awoke intense alarm, but I +answered no question, scarcely did I speak. I felt as if I were placed +under a ban--as if I had no right to claim their sympathies--as if +never more might I enjoy companionship with them. Yet even thus I +loved them to adoration; and to save them, I resolved to dedicate +myself to my most abhorred task. The prospect of such an occupation +made every other circumstance of existence pass before me like a dream, +and that thought only had to me the reality of life. + + + +Chapter 18 + +Day after day, week after week, passed away on my return to Geneva; and +I could not collect the courage to recommence my work. I feared the +vengeance of the disappointed fiend, yet I was unable to overcome my +repugnance to the task which was enjoined me. I found that I could not +compose a female without again devoting several months to profound +study and laborious disquisition. I had heard of some discoveries +having been made by an English philosopher, the knowledge of which was +material to my success, and I sometimes thought of obtaining my +father's consent to visit England for this purpose; but I clung to +every pretence of delay and shrank from taking the first step in an +undertaking whose immediate necessity began to appear less absolute to +me. A change indeed had taken place in me; my health, which had +hitherto declined, was now much restored; and my spirits, when +unchecked by the memory of my unhappy promise, rose proportionably. My +father saw this change with pleasure, and he turned his thoughts +towards the best method of eradicating the remains of my melancholy, +which every now and then would return by fits, and with a devouring +blackness overcast the approaching sunshine. At these moments I took +refuge in the most perfect solitude. I passed whole days on the lake +alone in a little boat, watching the clouds and listening to the +rippling of the waves, silent and listless. But the fresh air and +bright sun seldom failed to restore me to some degree of composure, and +on my return I met the salutations of my friends with a readier smile +and a more cheerful heart. + +It was after my return from one of these rambles that my father, +calling me aside, thus addressed me, + +"I am happy to remark, my dear son, that you have resumed your former +pleasures and seem to be returning to yourself. And yet you are still +unhappy and still avoid our society. For some time I was lost in +conjecture as to the cause of this, but yesterday an idea struck me, +and if it is well founded, I conjure you to avow it. Reserve on such a +point would be not only useless, but draw down treble misery on us all." + +I trembled violently at his exordium, and my father continued--"I +confess, my son, that I have always looked forward to your marriage +with our dear Elizabeth as the tie of our domestic comfort and the stay +of my declining years. You were attached to each other from your +earliest infancy; you studied together, and appeared, in dispositions +and tastes, entirely suited to one another. But so blind is the +experience of man that what I conceived to be the best assistants to my +plan may have entirely destroyed it. You, perhaps, regard her as your +sister, without any wish that she might become your wife. Nay, you may +have met with another whom you may love; and considering yourself as +bound in honour to Elizabeth, this struggle may occasion the poignant +misery which you appear to feel." + +"My dear father, reassure yourself. I love my cousin tenderly and +sincerely. I never saw any woman who excited, as Elizabeth does, my +warmest admiration and affection. My future hopes and prospects are +entirely bound up in the expectation of our union." + +"The expression of your sentiments of this subject, my dear Victor, +gives me more pleasure than I have for some time experienced. If you +feel thus, we shall assuredly be happy, however present events may cast +a gloom over us. But it is this gloom which appears to have taken so +strong a hold of your mind that I wish to dissipate. Tell me, +therefore, whether you object to an immediate solemnization of the +marriage. We have been unfortunate, and recent events have drawn us +from that everyday tranquillity befitting my years and infirmities. You +are younger; yet I do not suppose, possessed as you are of a competent +fortune, that an early marriage would at all interfere with any future +plans of honour and utility that you may have formed. Do not suppose, +however, that I wish to dictate happiness to you or that a delay on +your part would cause me any serious uneasiness. Interpret my words +with candour and answer me, I conjure you, with confidence and +sincerity." + +I listened to my father in silence and remained for some time incapable +of offering any reply. I revolved rapidly in my mind a multitude of +thoughts and endeavoured to arrive at some conclusion. Alas! To me +the idea of an immediate union with my Elizabeth was one of horror and +dismay. I was bound by a solemn promise which I had not yet fulfilled +and dared not break, or if I did, what manifold miseries might not +impend over me and my devoted family! Could I enter into a festival +with this deadly weight yet hanging round my neck and bowing me to the +ground? I must perform my engagement and let the monster depart with +his mate before I allowed myself to enjoy the delight of a union from +which I expected peace. + +I remembered also the necessity imposed upon me of either journeying to +England or entering into a long correspondence with those philosophers +of that country whose knowledge and discoveries were of indispensable +use to me in my present undertaking. The latter method of obtaining +the desired intelligence was dilatory and unsatisfactory; besides, I +had an insurmountable aversion to the idea of engaging myself in my +loathsome task in my father's house while in habits of familiar +intercourse with those I loved. I knew that a thousand fearful +accidents might occur, the slightest of which would disclose a tale to +thrill all connected with me with horror. I was aware also that I +should often lose all self-command, all capacity of hiding the +harrowing sensations that would possess me during the progress of my +unearthly occupation. I must absent myself from all I loved while thus +employed. Once commenced, it would quickly be achieved, and I might be +restored to my family in peace and happiness. My promise fulfilled, +the monster would depart forever. Or (so my fond fancy imaged) some +accident might meanwhile occur to destroy him and put an end to my +slavery forever. + +These feelings dictated my answer to my father. I expressed a wish to +visit England, but concealing the true reasons of this request, I +clothed my desires under a guise which excited no suspicion, while I +urged my desire with an earnestness that easily induced my father to +comply. After so long a period of an absorbing melancholy that +resembled madness in its intensity and effects, he was glad to find +that I was capable of taking pleasure in the idea of such a journey, +and he hoped that change of scene and varied amusement would, before my +return, have restored me entirely to myself. + +The duration of my absence was left to my own choice; a few months, or +at most a year, was the period contemplated. One paternal kind +precaution he had taken to ensure my having a companion. Without +previously communicating with me, he had, in concert with Elizabeth, +arranged that Clerval should join me at Strasbourg. This interfered +with the solitude I coveted for the prosecution of my task; yet at the +commencement of my journey the presence of my friend could in no way be +an impediment, and truly I rejoiced that thus I should be saved many +hours of lonely, maddening reflection. Nay, Henry might stand between +me and the intrusion of my foe. If I were alone, would he not at times +force his abhorred presence on me to remind me of my task or to +contemplate its progress? + +To England, therefore, I was bound, and it was understood that my union +with Elizabeth should take place immediately on my return. My father's +age rendered him extremely averse to delay. For myself, there was one +reward I promised myself from my detested toils--one consolation for my +unparalleled sufferings; it was the prospect of that day when, +enfranchised from my miserable slavery, I might claim Elizabeth and +forget the past in my union with her. + +I now made arrangements for my journey, but one feeling haunted me +which filled me with fear and agitation. During my absence I should +leave my friends unconscious of the existence of their enemy and +unprotected from his attacks, exasperated as he might be by my +departure. But he had promised to follow me wherever I might go, and +would he not accompany me to England? This imagination was dreadful in +itself, but soothing inasmuch as it supposed the safety of my friends. +I was agonized with the idea of the possibility that the reverse of +this might happen. But through the whole period during which I was the +slave of my creature I allowed myself to be governed by the impulses of +the moment; and my present sensations strongly intimated that the fiend +would follow me and exempt my family from the danger of his +machinations. + +It was in the latter end of September that I again quitted my native +country. My journey had been my own suggestion, and Elizabeth +therefore acquiesced, but she was filled with disquiet at the idea of +my suffering, away from her, the inroads of misery and grief. It had +been her care which provided me a companion in Clerval--and yet a man +is blind to a thousand minute circumstances which call forth a woman's +sedulous attention. She longed to bid me hasten my return; a thousand +conflicting emotions rendered her mute as she bade me a tearful, silent +farewell. + +I threw myself into the carriage that was to convey me away, hardly +knowing whither I was going, and careless of what was passing around. +I remembered only, and it was with a bitter anguish that I reflected on +it, to order that my chemical instruments should be packed to go with +me. Filled with dreary imaginations, I passed through many beautiful +and majestic scenes, but my eyes were fixed and unobserving. I could +only think of the bourne of my travels and the work which was to occupy +me whilst they endured. + +After some days spent in listless indolence, during which I traversed +many leagues, I arrived at Strasbourg, where I waited two days for +Clerval. He came. Alas, how great was the contrast between us! He +was alive to every new scene, joyful when he saw the beauties of the +setting sun, and more happy when he beheld it rise and recommence a new +day. He pointed out to me the shifting colours of the landscape and +the appearances of the sky. "This is what it is to live," he cried; +"how I enjoy existence! But you, my dear Frankenstein, wherefore are +you desponding and sorrowful!" In truth, I was occupied by gloomy +thoughts and neither saw the descent of the evening star nor the golden +sunrise reflected in the Rhine. And you, my friend, would be far more +amused with the journal of Clerval, who observed the scenery with an +eye of feeling and delight, than in listening to my reflections. I, a +miserable wretch, haunted by a curse that shut up every avenue to +enjoyment. + +We had agreed to descend the Rhine in a boat from Strasbourg to +Rotterdam, whence we might take shipping for London. During this +voyage we passed many willowy islands and saw several beautiful towns. +We stayed a day at Mannheim, and on the fifth from our departure from +Strasbourg, arrived at Mainz. The course of the Rhine below Mainz +becomes much more picturesque. The river descends rapidly and winds +between hills, not high, but steep, and of beautiful forms. We saw +many ruined castles standing on the edges of precipices, surrounded by +black woods, high and inaccessible. This part of the Rhine, indeed, +presents a singularly variegated landscape. In one spot you view +rugged hills, ruined castles overlooking tremendous precipices, with +the dark Rhine rushing beneath; and on the sudden turn of a promontory, +flourishing vineyards with green sloping banks and a meandering river +and populous towns occupy the scene. + +We travelled at the time of the vintage and heard the song of the +labourers as we glided down the stream. Even I, depressed in mind, and +my spirits continually agitated by gloomy feelings, even I was pleased. +I lay at the bottom of the boat, and as I gazed on the cloudless blue +sky, I seemed to drink in a tranquillity to which I had long been a +stranger. And if these were my sensations, who can describe those of +Henry? He felt as if he had been transported to fairy-land and enjoyed +a happiness seldom tasted by man. "I have seen," he said, "the most +beautiful scenes of my own country; I have visited the lakes of Lucerne +and Uri, where the snowy mountains descend almost perpendicularly to +the water, casting black and impenetrable shades, which would cause a +gloomy and mournful appearance were it not for the most verdant islands +that believe the eye by their gay appearance; I have seen this lake +agitated by a tempest, when the wind tore up whirlwinds of water and +gave you an idea of what the water-spout must be on the great ocean; +and the waves dash with fury the base of the mountain, where the priest +and his mistress were overwhelmed by an avalanche and where their dying +voices are still said to be heard amid the pauses of the nightly wind; +I have seen the mountains of La Valais, and the Pays de Vaud; but this +country, Victor, pleases me more than all those wonders. The mountains +of Switzerland are more majestic and strange, but there is a charm in +the banks of this divine river that I never before saw equalled. Look +at that castle which overhangs yon precipice; and that also on the +island, almost concealed amongst the foliage of those lovely trees; and +now that group of labourers coming from among their vines; and that +village half hid in the recess of the mountain. Oh, surely the spirit +that inhabits and guards this place has a soul more in harmony with man +than those who pile the glacier or retire to the inaccessible peaks of +the mountains of our own country." Clerval! Beloved friend! Even now +it delights me to record your words and to dwell on the praise of which +you are so eminently deserving. He was a being formed in the "very +poetry of nature." His wild and enthusiastic imagination was chastened +by the sensibility of his heart. His soul overflowed with ardent +affections, and his friendship was of that devoted and wondrous nature +that the world-minded teach us to look for only in the imagination. But +even human sympathies were not sufficient to satisfy his eager mind. +The scenery of external nature, which others regard only with +admiration, he loved with ardour:-- + + + ----The sounding cataract + Haunted him like a passion: the tall rock, + The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, + Their colours and their forms, were then to him + An appetite; a feeling, and a love, + That had no need of a remoter charm, + By thought supplied, or any interest + Unborrow'd from the eye. + + [Wordsworth's "Tintern Abbey".] + + +And where does he now exist? Is this gentle and lovely being lost +forever? Has this mind, so replete with ideas, imaginations fanciful +and magnificent, which formed a world, whose existence depended on the +life of its creator;--has this mind perished? Does it now only exist +in my memory? No, it is not thus; your form so divinely wrought, and +beaming with beauty, has decayed, but your spirit still visits and +consoles your unhappy friend. + +Pardon this gush of sorrow; these ineffectual words are but a slight +tribute to the unexampled worth of Henry, but they soothe my heart, +overflowing with the anguish which his remembrance creates. I will +proceed with my tale. + +Beyond Cologne we descended to the plains of Holland; and we resolved +to post the remainder of our way, for the wind was contrary and the +stream of the river was too gentle to aid us. Our journey here lost +the interest arising from beautiful scenery, but we arrived in a few +days at Rotterdam, whence we proceeded by sea to England. It was on a +clear morning, in the latter days of December, that I first saw the +white cliffs of Britain. The banks of the Thames presented a new +scene; they were flat but fertile, and almost every town was marked by +the remembrance of some story. We saw Tilbury Fort and remembered the +Spanish Armada, Gravesend, Woolwich, and Greenwich--places which I had +heard of even in my country. + +At length we saw the numerous steeples of London, St. Paul's towering +above all, and the Tower famed in English history. + + + +Chapter 19 + +London was our present point of rest; we determined to remain several +months in this wonderful and celebrated city. Clerval desired the +intercourse of the men of genius and talent who flourished at this +time, but this was with me a secondary object; I was principally +occupied with the means of obtaining the information necessary for the +completion of my promise and quickly availed myself of the letters of +introduction that I had brought with me, addressed to the most +distinguished natural philosophers. + +If this journey had taken place during my days of study and happiness, +it would have afforded me inexpressible pleasure. But a blight had +come over my existence, and I only visited these people for the sake of +the information they might give me on the subject in which my interest +was so terribly profound. Company was irksome to me; when alone, I +could fill my mind with the sights of heaven and earth; the voice of +Henry soothed me, and I could thus cheat myself into a transitory +peace. But busy, uninteresting, joyous faces brought back despair to +my heart. I saw an insurmountable barrier placed between me and my +fellow men; this barrier was sealed with the blood of William and +Justine, and to reflect on the events connected with those names filled +my soul with anguish. + +But in Clerval I saw the image of my former self; he was inquisitive +and anxious to gain experience and instruction. The difference of +manners which he observed was to him an inexhaustible source of +instruction and amusement. He was also pursuing an object he had long +had in view. His design was to visit India, in the belief that he had +in his knowledge of its various languages, and in the views he had +taken of its society, the means of materially assisting the progress of +European colonization and trade. In Britain only could he further the +execution of his plan. He was forever busy, and the only check to his +enjoyments was my sorrowful and dejected mind. I tried to conceal this +as much as possible, that I might not debar him from the pleasures +natural to one who was entering on a new scene of life, undisturbed by +any care or bitter recollection. I often refused to accompany him, +alleging another engagement, that I might remain alone. I now also +began to collect the materials necessary for my new creation, and this +was to me like the torture of single drops of water continually falling +on the head. Every thought that was devoted to it was an extreme +anguish, and every word that I spoke in allusion to it caused my lips +to quiver, and my heart to palpitate. + +After passing some months in London, we received a letter from a person +in Scotland who had formerly been our visitor at Geneva. He mentioned +the beauties of his native country and asked us if those were not +sufficient allurements to induce us to prolong our journey as far north +as Perth, where he resided. Clerval eagerly desired to accept this +invitation, and I, although I abhorred society, wished to view again +mountains and streams and all the wondrous works with which Nature +adorns her chosen dwelling-places. We had arrived in England at the +beginning of October, and it was now February. We accordingly +determined to commence our journey towards the north at the expiration +of another month. In this expedition we did not intend to follow the +great road to Edinburgh, but to visit Windsor, Oxford, Matlock, and the +Cumberland lakes, resolving to arrive at the completion of this tour +about the end of July. I packed up my chemical instruments and the +materials I had collected, resolving to finish my labours in some +obscure nook in the northern highlands of Scotland. + +We quitted London on the 27th of March and remained a few days at +Windsor, rambling in its beautiful forest. This was a new scene to us +mountaineers; the majestic oaks, the quantity of game, and the herds of +stately deer were all novelties to us. + +From thence we proceeded to Oxford. As we entered this city our minds +were filled with the remembrance of the events that had been transacted +there more than a century and a half before. It was here that Charles +I. had collected his forces. This city had remained faithful to him, +after the whole nation had forsaken his cause to join the standard of +Parliament and liberty. The memory of that unfortunate king and his +companions, the amiable Falkland, the insolent Goring, his queen, and +son, gave a peculiar interest to every part of the city which they +might be supposed to have inhabited. The spirit of elder days found a +dwelling here, and we delighted to trace its footsteps. If these +feelings had not found an imaginary gratification, the appearance of +the city had yet in itself sufficient beauty to obtain our admiration. +The colleges are ancient and picturesque; the streets are almost +magnificent; and the lovely Isis, which flows beside it through meadows +of exquisite verdure, is spread forth into a placid expanse of waters, +which reflects its majestic assemblage of towers, and spires, and +domes, embosomed among aged trees. + +I enjoyed this scene, and yet my enjoyment was embittered both by the +memory of the past and the anticipation of the future. I was formed +for peaceful happiness. During my youthful days discontent never +visited my mind, and if I was ever overcome by ennui, the sight of what +is beautiful in nature or the study of what is excellent and sublime in +the productions of man could always interest my heart and communicate +elasticity to my spirits. But I am a blasted tree; the bolt has +entered my soul; and I felt then that I should survive to exhibit what +I shall soon cease to be--a miserable spectacle of wrecked humanity, +pitiable to others and intolerable to myself. + +We passed a considerable period at Oxford, rambling among its environs +and endeavouring to identify every spot which might relate to the most +animating epoch of English history. Our little voyages of discovery +were often prolonged by the successive objects that presented +themselves. We visited the tomb of the illustrious Hampden and the +field on which that patriot fell. For a moment my soul was elevated +from its debasing and miserable fears to contemplate the divine ideas +of liberty and self sacrifice of which these sights were the monuments +and the remembrancers. For an instant I dared to shake off my chains +and look around me with a free and lofty spirit, but the iron had eaten +into my flesh, and I sank again, trembling and hopeless, into my +miserable self. + +We left Oxford with regret and proceeded to Matlock, which was our next +place of rest. The country in the neighbourhood of this village +resembled, to a greater degree, the scenery of Switzerland; but +everything is on a lower scale, and the green hills want the crown of +distant white Alps which always attend on the piny mountains of my +native country. We visited the wondrous cave and the little cabinets +of natural history, where the curiosities are disposed in the same +manner as in the collections at Servox and Chamounix. The latter name +made me tremble when pronounced by Henry, and I hastened to quit +Matlock, with which that terrible scene was thus associated. + +From Derby, still journeying northwards, we passed two months in +Cumberland and Westmorland. I could now almost fancy myself among the +Swiss mountains. The little patches of snow which yet lingered on the +northern sides of the mountains, the lakes, and the dashing of the +rocky streams were all familiar and dear sights to me. Here also we +made some acquaintances, who almost contrived to cheat me into +happiness. The delight of Clerval was proportionably greater than +mine; his mind expanded in the company of men of talent, and he found +in his own nature greater capacities and resources than he could have +imagined himself to have possessed while he associated with his +inferiors. "I could pass my life here," said he to me; "and among +these mountains I should scarcely regret Switzerland and the Rhine." + +But he found that a traveller's life is one that includes much pain +amidst its enjoyments. His feelings are forever on the stretch; and +when he begins to sink into repose, he finds himself obliged to quit +that on which he rests in pleasure for something new, which again +engages his attention, and which also he forsakes for other novelties. + +We had scarcely visited the various lakes of Cumberland and Westmorland +and conceived an affection for some of the inhabitants when the period +of our appointment with our Scotch friend approached, and we left them +to travel on. For my own part I was not sorry. I had now neglected my +promise for some time, and I feared the effects of the daemon's +disappointment. He might remain in Switzerland and wreak his vengeance +on my relatives. This idea pursued me and tormented me at every moment +from which I might otherwise have snatched repose and peace. I waited +for my letters with feverish impatience; if they were delayed I was +miserable and overcome by a thousand fears; and when they arrived and I +saw the superscription of Elizabeth or my father, I hardly dared to +read and ascertain my fate. Sometimes I thought that the fiend +followed me and might expedite my remissness by murdering my companion. +When these thoughts possessed me, I would not quit Henry for a moment, +but followed him as his shadow, to protect him from the fancied rage of +his destroyer. I felt as if I had committed some great crime, the +consciousness of which haunted me. I was guiltless, but I had indeed +drawn down a horrible curse upon my head, as mortal as that of crime. + +I visited Edinburgh with languid eyes and mind; and yet that city might +have interested the most unfortunate being. Clerval did not like it so +well as Oxford, for the antiquity of the latter city was more pleasing +to him. But the beauty and regularity of the new town of Edinburgh, +its romantic castle and its environs, the most delightful in the world, +Arthur's Seat, St. Bernard's Well, and the Pentland Hills compensated +him for the change and filled him with cheerfulness and admiration. But +I was impatient to arrive at the termination of my journey. + +We left Edinburgh in a week, passing through Coupar, St. Andrew's, and +along the banks of the Tay, to Perth, where our friend expected us. +But I was in no mood to laugh and talk with strangers or enter into +their feelings or plans with the good humour expected from a guest; and +accordingly I told Clerval that I wished to make the tour of Scotland +alone. "Do you," said I, "enjoy yourself, and let this be our +rendezvous. I may be absent a month or two; but do not interfere with +my motions, I entreat you; leave me to peace and solitude for a short +time; and when I return, I hope it will be with a lighter heart, more +congenial to your own temper." + +Henry wished to dissuade me, but seeing me bent on this plan, ceased to +remonstrate. He entreated me to write often. "I had rather be with +you," he said, "in your solitary rambles, than with these Scotch +people, whom I do not know; hasten, then, my dear friend, to return, +that I may again feel myself somewhat at home, which I cannot do in +your absence." + +Having parted from my friend, I determined to visit some remote spot of +Scotland and finish my work in solitude. I did not doubt but that the +monster followed me and would discover himself to me when I should have +finished, that he might receive his companion. With this resolution I +traversed the northern highlands and fixed on one of the remotest of +the Orkneys as the scene of my labours. It was a place fitted for such +a work, being hardly more than a rock whose high sides were continually +beaten upon by the waves. The soil was barren, scarcely affording +pasture for a few miserable cows, and oatmeal for its inhabitants, +which consisted of five persons, whose gaunt and scraggy limbs gave +tokens of their miserable fare. Vegetables and bread, when they +indulged in such luxuries, and even fresh water, was to be procured +from the mainland, which was about five miles distant. + +On the whole island there were but three miserable huts, and one of +these was vacant when I arrived. This I hired. It contained but two +rooms, and these exhibited all the squalidness of the most miserable +penury. The thatch had fallen in, the walls were unplastered, and the +door was off its hinges. I ordered it to be repaired, bought some +furniture, and took possession, an incident which would doubtless have +occasioned some surprise had not all the senses of the cottagers been +benumbed by want and squalid poverty. As it was, I lived ungazed at +and unmolested, hardly thanked for the pittance of food and clothes +which I gave, so much does suffering blunt even the coarsest sensations +of men. + +In this retreat I devoted the morning to labour; but in the evening, +when the weather permitted, I walked on the stony beach of the sea to +listen to the waves as they roared and dashed at my feet. It was a +monotonous yet ever-changing scene. I thought of Switzerland; it was +far different from this desolate and appalling landscape. Its hills +are covered with vines, and its cottages are scattered thickly in the +plains. Its fair lakes reflect a blue and gentle sky, and when +troubled by the winds, their tumult is but as the play of a lively +infant when compared to the roarings of the giant ocean. + +In this manner I distributed my occupations when I first arrived, but +as I proceeded in my labour, it became every day more horrible and +irksome to me. Sometimes I could not prevail on myself to enter my +laboratory for several days, and at other times I toiled day and night +in order to complete my work. It was, indeed, a filthy process in +which I was engaged. During my first experiment, a kind of +enthusiastic frenzy had blinded me to the horror of my employment; my +mind was intently fixed on the consummation of my labour, and my eyes +were shut to the horror of my proceedings. But now I went to it in +cold blood, and my heart often sickened at the work of my hands. + +Thus situated, employed in the most detestable occupation, immersed in +a solitude where nothing could for an instant call my attention from +the actual scene in which I was engaged, my spirits became unequal; I +grew restless and nervous. Every moment I feared to meet my +persecutor. Sometimes I sat with my eyes fixed on the ground, fearing +to raise them lest they should encounter the object which I so much +dreaded to behold. I feared to wander from the sight of my fellow +creatures lest when alone he should come to claim his companion. + +In the mean time I worked on, and my labour was already considerably +advanced. I looked towards its completion with a tremulous and eager +hope, which I dared not trust myself to question but which was +intermixed with obscure forebodings of evil that made my heart sicken +in my bosom. + + + +Chapter 20 + +I sat one evening in my laboratory; the sun had set, and the moon was +just rising from the sea; I had not sufficient light for my employment, +and I remained idle, in a pause of consideration of whether I should +leave my labour for the night or hasten its conclusion by an +unremitting attention to it. As I sat, a train of reflection occurred +to me which led me to consider the effects of what I was now doing. +Three years before, I was engaged in the same manner and had created a +fiend whose unparalleled barbarity had desolated my heart and filled it +forever with the bitterest remorse. I was now about to form another +being of whose dispositions I was alike ignorant; she might become ten +thousand times more malignant than her mate and delight, for its own +sake, in murder and wretchedness. He had sworn to quit the +neighbourhood of man and hide himself in deserts, but she had not; and +she, who in all probability was to become a thinking and reasoning +animal, might refuse to comply with a compact made before her creation. +They might even hate each other; the creature who already lived loathed +his own deformity, and might he not conceive a greater abhorrence for +it when it came before his eyes in the female form? She also might +turn with disgust from him to the superior beauty of man; she might +quit him, and he be again alone, exasperated by the fresh provocation +of being deserted by one of his own species. Even if they were to +leave Europe and inhabit the deserts of the new world, yet one of the +first results of those sympathies for which the daemon thirsted would +be children, and a race of devils would be propagated upon the earth +who might make the very existence of the species of man a condition +precarious and full of terror. Had I right, for my own benefit, to +inflict this curse upon everlasting generations? I had before been +moved by the sophisms of the being I had created; I had been struck +senseless by his fiendish threats; but now, for the first time, the +wickedness of my promise burst upon me; I shuddered to think that +future ages might curse me as their pest, whose selfishness had not +hesitated to buy its own peace at the price, perhaps, of the existence +of the whole human race. + +I trembled and my heart failed within me, when, on looking up, I saw by +the light of the moon the daemon at the casement. A ghastly grin +wrinkled his lips as he gazed on me, where I sat fulfilling the task +which he had allotted to me. Yes, he had followed me in my travels; he +had loitered in forests, hid himself in caves, or taken refuge in wide +and desert heaths; and he now came to mark my progress and claim the +fulfilment of my promise. + +As I looked on him, his countenance expressed the utmost extent of +malice and treachery. I thought with a sensation of madness on my +promise of creating another like to him, and trembling with passion, +tore to pieces the thing on which I was engaged. The wretch saw me +destroy the creature on whose future existence he depended for +happiness, and with a howl of devilish despair and revenge, withdrew. + +I left the room, and locking the door, made a solemn vow in my own +heart never to resume my labours; and then, with trembling steps, I +sought my own apartment. I was alone; none were near me to dissipate +the gloom and relieve me from the sickening oppression of the most +terrible reveries. + +Several hours passed, and I remained near my window gazing on the sea; +it was almost motionless, for the winds were hushed, and all nature +reposed under the eye of the quiet moon. A few fishing vessels alone +specked the water, and now and then the gentle breeze wafted the sound +of voices as the fishermen called to one another. I felt the silence, +although I was hardly conscious of its extreme profundity, until my ear +was suddenly arrested by the paddling of oars near the shore, and a +person landed close to my house. + +In a few minutes after, I heard the creaking of my door, as if some one +endeavoured to open it softly. I trembled from head to foot; I felt a +presentiment of who it was and wished to rouse one of the peasants who +dwelt in a cottage not far from mine; but I was overcome by the +sensation of helplessness, so often felt in frightful dreams, when you +in vain endeavour to fly from an impending danger, and was rooted to +the spot. Presently I heard the sound of footsteps along the passage; +the door opened, and the wretch whom I dreaded appeared. + +Shutting the door, he approached me and said in a smothered voice, "You +have destroyed the work which you began; what is it that you intend? +Do you dare to break your promise? I have endured toil and misery; I +left Switzerland with you; I crept along the shores of the Rhine, among +its willow islands and over the summits of its hills. I have dwelt +many months in the heaths of England and among the deserts of Scotland. +I have endured incalculable fatigue, and cold, and hunger; do you dare +destroy my hopes?" + +"Begone! I do break my promise; never will I create another like +yourself, equal in deformity and wickedness." + +"Slave, I before reasoned with you, but you have proved yourself +unworthy of my condescension. Remember that I have power; you believe +yourself miserable, but I can make you so wretched that the light of +day will be hateful to you. You are my creator, but I am your master; +obey!" + +"The hour of my irresolution is past, and the period of your power is +arrived. Your threats cannot move me to do an act of wickedness; but +they confirm me in a determination of not creating you a companion in +vice. Shall I, in cool blood, set loose upon the earth a daemon whose +delight is in death and wretchedness? Begone! I am firm, and your +words will only exasperate my rage." + +The monster saw my determination in my face and gnashed his teeth in +the impotence of anger. "Shall each man," cried he, "find a wife for +his bosom, and each beast have his mate, and I be alone? I had +feelings of affection, and they were requited by detestation and scorn. +Man! You may hate, but beware! Your hours will pass in dread and +misery, and soon the bolt will fall which must ravish from you your +happiness forever. Are you to be happy while I grovel in the intensity +of my wretchedness? You can blast my other passions, but revenge +remains--revenge, henceforth dearer than light or food! I may die, but +first you, my tyrant and tormentor, shall curse the sun that gazes on +your misery. Beware, for I am fearless and therefore powerful. I will +watch with the wiliness of a snake, that I may sting with its venom. +Man, you shall repent of the injuries you inflict." + +"Devil, cease; and do not poison the air with these sounds of malice. +I have declared my resolution to you, and I am no coward to bend +beneath words. Leave me; I am inexorable." + +"It is well. I go; but remember, I shall be with you on your +wedding-night." + +I started forward and exclaimed, "Villain! Before you sign my +death-warrant, be sure that you are yourself safe." + +I would have seized him, but he eluded me and quitted the house with +precipitation. In a few moments I saw him in his boat, which shot +across the waters with an arrowy swiftness and was soon lost amidst the +waves. + +All was again silent, but his words rang in my ears. I burned with +rage to pursue the murderer of my peace and precipitate him into the +ocean. I walked up and down my room hastily and perturbed, while my +imagination conjured up a thousand images to torment and sting me. Why +had I not followed him and closed with him in mortal strife? But I had +suffered him to depart, and he had directed his course towards the +mainland. I shuddered to think who might be the next victim sacrificed +to his insatiate revenge. And then I thought again of his words--"I +WILL BE WITH YOU ON YOUR WEDDING-NIGHT." That, then, was the period +fixed for the fulfilment of my destiny. In that hour I should die and +at once satisfy and extinguish his malice. The prospect did not move +me to fear; yet when I thought of my beloved Elizabeth, of her tears +and endless sorrow, when she should find her lover so barbarously +snatched from her, tears, the first I had shed for many months, +streamed from my eyes, and I resolved not to fall before my enemy +without a bitter struggle. + +The night passed away, and the sun rose from the ocean; my feelings +became calmer, if it may be called calmness when the violence of rage +sinks into the depths of despair. I left the house, the horrid scene +of the last night's contention, and walked on the beach of the sea, +which I almost regarded as an insuperable barrier between me and my +fellow creatures; nay, a wish that such should prove the fact stole +across me. + +I desired that I might pass my life on that barren rock, wearily, it is +true, but uninterrupted by any sudden shock of misery. If I returned, +it was to be sacrificed or to see those whom I most loved die under the +grasp of a daemon whom I had myself created. + +I walked about the isle like a restless spectre, separated from all it +loved and miserable in the separation. When it became noon, and the +sun rose higher, I lay down on the grass and was overpowered by a deep +sleep. I had been awake the whole of the preceding night, my nerves +were agitated, and my eyes inflamed by watching and misery. The sleep +into which I now sank refreshed me; and when I awoke, I again felt as +if I belonged to a race of human beings like myself, and I began to +reflect upon what had passed with greater composure; yet still the +words of the fiend rang in my ears like a death-knell; they appeared +like a dream, yet distinct and oppressive as a reality. + +The sun had far descended, and I still sat on the shore, satisfying my +appetite, which had become ravenous, with an oaten cake, when I saw a +fishing-boat land close to me, and one of the men brought me a packet; +it contained letters from Geneva, and one from Clerval entreating me to +join him. He said that he was wearing away his time fruitlessly where +he was, that letters from the friends he had formed in London desired +his return to complete the negotiation they had entered into for his +Indian enterprise. He could not any longer delay his departure; but as +his journey to London might be followed, even sooner than he now +conjectured, by his longer voyage, he entreated me to bestow as much of +my society on him as I could spare. He besought me, therefore, to +leave my solitary isle and to meet him at Perth, that we might proceed +southwards together. This letter in a degree recalled me to life, and +I determined to quit my island at the expiration of two days. Yet, +before I departed, there was a task to perform, on which I shuddered to +reflect; I must pack up my chemical instruments, and for that purpose I +must enter the room which had been the scene of my odious work, and I +must handle those utensils the sight of which was sickening to me. The +next morning, at daybreak, I summoned sufficient courage and unlocked +the door of my laboratory. The remains of the half-finished creature, +whom I had destroyed, lay scattered on the floor, and I almost felt as +if I had mangled the living flesh of a human being. I paused to +collect myself and then entered the chamber. With trembling hand I +conveyed the instruments out of the room, but I reflected that I ought +not to leave the relics of my work to excite the horror and suspicion +of the peasants; and I accordingly put them into a basket, with a great +quantity of stones, and laying them up, determined to throw them into +the sea that very night; and in the meantime I sat upon the beach, +employed in cleaning and arranging my chemical apparatus. + +Nothing could be more complete than the alteration that had taken place +in my feelings since the night of the appearance of the daemon. I had +before regarded my promise with a gloomy despair as a thing that, with +whatever consequences, must be fulfilled; but I now felt as if a film +had been taken from before my eyes and that I for the first time saw +clearly. The idea of renewing my labours did not for one instant occur +to me; the threat I had heard weighed on my thoughts, but I did not +reflect that a voluntary act of mine could avert it. I had resolved in +my own mind that to create another like the fiend I had first made +would be an act of the basest and most atrocious selfishness, and I +banished from my mind every thought that could lead to a different +conclusion. + +Between two and three in the morning the moon rose; and I then, putting +my basket aboard a little skiff, sailed out about four miles from the +shore. The scene was perfectly solitary; a few boats were returning +towards land, but I sailed away from them. I felt as if I was about +the commission of a dreadful crime and avoided with shuddering anxiety +any encounter with my fellow creatures. At one time the moon, which +had before been clear, was suddenly overspread by a thick cloud, and I +took advantage of the moment of darkness and cast my basket into the +sea; I listened to the gurgling sound as it sank and then sailed away +from the spot. The sky became clouded, but the air was pure, although +chilled by the northeast breeze that was then rising. But it refreshed +me and filled me with such agreeable sensations that I resolved to +prolong my stay on the water, and fixing the rudder in a direct +position, stretched myself at the bottom of the boat. Clouds hid the +moon, everything was obscure, and I heard only the sound of the boat as +its keel cut through the waves; the murmur lulled me, and in a short +time I slept soundly. I do not know how long I remained in this +situation, but when I awoke I found that the sun had already mounted +considerably. The wind was high, and the waves continually threatened +the safety of my little skiff. I found that the wind was northeast and +must have driven me far from the coast from which I had embarked. I +endeavoured to change my course but quickly found that if I again made +the attempt the boat would be instantly filled with water. Thus +situated, my only resource was to drive before the wind. I confess +that I felt a few sensations of terror. I had no compass with me and +was so slenderly acquainted with the geography of this part of the +world that the sun was of little benefit to me. I might be driven into +the wide Atlantic and feel all the tortures of starvation or be +swallowed up in the immeasurable waters that roared and buffeted around +me. I had already been out many hours and felt the torment of a +burning thirst, a prelude to my other sufferings. I looked on the +heavens, which were covered by clouds that flew before the wind, only +to be replaced by others; I looked upon the sea; it was to be my grave. +"Fiend," I exclaimed, "your task is already fulfilled!" I thought of +Elizabeth, of my father, and of Clerval--all left behind, on whom the +monster might satisfy his sanguinary and merciless passions. This idea +plunged me into a reverie so despairing and frightful that even now, +when the scene is on the point of closing before me forever, I shudder +to reflect on it. + +Some hours passed thus; but by degrees, as the sun declined towards the +horizon, the wind died away into a gentle breeze and the sea became +free from breakers. But these gave place to a heavy swell; I felt sick +and hardly able to hold the rudder, when suddenly I saw a line of high +land towards the south. + +Almost spent, as I was, by fatigue and the dreadful suspense I endured +for several hours, this sudden certainty of life rushed like a flood of +warm joy to my heart, and tears gushed from my eyes. + +How mutable are our feelings, and how strange is that clinging love we +have of life even in the excess of misery! I constructed another sail +with a part of my dress and eagerly steered my course towards the land. +It had a wild and rocky appearance, but as I approached nearer I easily +perceived the traces of cultivation. I saw vessels near the shore and +found myself suddenly transported back to the neighbourhood of +civilized man. I carefully traced the windings of the land and hailed +a steeple which I at length saw issuing from behind a small promontory. +As I was in a state of extreme debility, I resolved to sail directly +towards the town, as a place where I could most easily procure +nourishment. Fortunately I had money with me. + +As I turned the promontory I perceived a small neat town and a good +harbour, which I entered, my heart bounding with joy at my unexpected +escape. + +As I was occupied in fixing the boat and arranging the sails, several +people crowded towards the spot. They seemed much surprised at my +appearance, but instead of offering me any assistance, whispered +together with gestures that at any other time might have produced in me +a slight sensation of alarm. As it was, I merely remarked that they +spoke English, and I therefore addressed them in that language. "My +good friends," said I, "will you be so kind as to tell me the name of +this town and inform me where I am?" + +"You will know that soon enough," replied a man with a hoarse voice. +"Maybe you are come to a place that will not prove much to your taste, +but you will not be consulted as to your quarters, I promise you." + +I was exceedingly surprised on receiving so rude an answer from a +stranger, and I was also disconcerted on perceiving the frowning and +angry countenances of his companions. "Why do you answer me so +roughly?" I replied. "Surely it is not the custom of Englishmen to +receive strangers so inhospitably." + +"I do not know," said the man, "what the custom of the English may be, +but it is the custom of the Irish to hate villains." While this strange +dialogue continued, I perceived the crowd rapidly increase. Their +faces expressed a mixture of curiosity and anger, which annoyed and in +some degree alarmed me. + +I inquired the way to the inn, but no one replied. I then moved +forward, and a murmuring sound arose from the crowd as they followed +and surrounded me, when an ill-looking man approaching tapped me on the +shoulder and said, "Come, sir, you must follow me to Mr. Kirwin's to +give an account of yourself." + +"Who is Mr. Kirwin? Why am I to give an account of myself? Is not +this a free country?" + +"Ay, sir, free enough for honest folks. Mr. Kirwin is a magistrate, +and you are to give an account of the death of a gentleman who was +found murdered here last night." + +This answer startled me, but I presently recovered myself. I was +innocent; that could easily be proved; accordingly I followed my +conductor in silence and was led to one of the best houses in the town. +I was ready to sink from fatigue and hunger, but being surrounded by a +crowd, I thought it politic to rouse all my strength, that no physical +debility might be construed into apprehension or conscious guilt. +Little did I then expect the calamity that was in a few moments to +overwhelm me and extinguish in horror and despair all fear of ignominy +or death. I must pause here, for it requires all my fortitude to recall +the memory of the frightful events which I am about to relate, in +proper detail, to my recollection. + + + +Chapter 21 + +I was soon introduced into the presence of the magistrate, an old +benevolent man with calm and mild manners. He looked upon me, however, +with some degree of severity, and then, turning towards my conductors, +he asked who appeared as witnesses on this occasion. + +About half a dozen men came forward; and, one being selected by the +magistrate, he deposed that he had been out fishing the night before +with his son and brother-in-law, Daniel Nugent, when, about ten +o'clock, they observed a strong northerly blast rising, and they +accordingly put in for port. It was a very dark night, as the moon had +not yet risen; they did not land at the harbour, but, as they had been +accustomed, at a creek about two miles below. He walked on first, +carrying a part of the fishing tackle, and his companions followed him +at some distance. + +As he was proceeding along the sands, he struck his foot against +something and fell at his length on the ground. His companions came up +to assist him, and by the light of their lantern they found that he had +fallen on the body of a man, who was to all appearance dead. Their +first supposition was that it was the corpse of some person who had +been drowned and was thrown on shore by the waves, but on examination +they found that the clothes were not wet and even that the body was not +then cold. They instantly carried it to the cottage of an old woman +near the spot and endeavoured, but in vain, to restore it to life. It +appeared to be a handsome young man, about five and twenty years of +age. He had apparently been strangled, for there was no sign of any +violence except the black mark of fingers on his neck. + +The first part of this deposition did not in the least interest me, but +when the mark of the fingers was mentioned I remembered the murder of +my brother and felt myself extremely agitated; my limbs trembled, and a +mist came over my eyes, which obliged me to lean on a chair for +support. The magistrate observed me with a keen eye and of course drew +an unfavourable augury from my manner. + +The son confirmed his father's account, but when Daniel Nugent was +called he swore positively that just before the fall of his companion, +he saw a boat, with a single man in it, at a short distance from the +shore; and as far as he could judge by the light of a few stars, it was +the same boat in which I had just landed. A woman deposed that she +lived near the beach and was standing at the door of her cottage, +waiting for the return of the fishermen, about an hour before she heard +of the discovery of the body, when she saw a boat with only one man in +it push off from that part of the shore where the corpse was afterwards +found. + +Another woman confirmed the account of the fishermen having brought the +body into her house; it was not cold. They put it into a bed and +rubbed it, and Daniel went to the town for an apothecary, but life was +quite gone. + +Several other men were examined concerning my landing, and they agreed +that, with the strong north wind that had arisen during the night, it +was very probable that I had beaten about for many hours and had been +obliged to return nearly to the same spot from which I had departed. +Besides, they observed that it appeared that I had brought the body +from another place, and it was likely that as I did not appear to know +the shore, I might have put into the harbour ignorant of the distance +of the town of ---- from the place where I had deposited the corpse. + +Mr. Kirwin, on hearing this evidence, desired that I should be taken +into the room where the body lay for interment, that it might be +observed what effect the sight of it would produce upon me. This idea +was probably suggested by the extreme agitation I had exhibited when +the mode of the murder had been described. I was accordingly +conducted, by the magistrate and several other persons, to the inn. I +could not help being struck by the strange coincidences that had taken +place during this eventful night; but, knowing that I had been +conversing with several persons in the island I had inhabited about the +time that the body had been found, I was perfectly tranquil as to the +consequences of the affair. I entered the room where the corpse lay +and was led up to the coffin. How can I describe my sensations on +beholding it? I feel yet parched with horror, nor can I reflect on +that terrible moment without shuddering and agony. The examination, +the presence of the magistrate and witnesses, passed like a dream from +my memory when I saw the lifeless form of Henry Clerval stretched +before me. I gasped for breath, and throwing myself on the body, I +exclaimed, "Have my murderous machinations deprived you also, my +dearest Henry, of life? Two I have already destroyed; other victims +await their destiny; but you, Clerval, my friend, my benefactor--" + +The human frame could no longer support the agonies that I endured, and +I was carried out of the room in strong convulsions. A fever succeeded +to this. I lay for two months on the point of death; my ravings, as I +afterwards heard, were frightful; I called myself the murderer of +William, of Justine, and of Clerval. Sometimes I entreated my +attendants to assist me in the destruction of the fiend by whom I was +tormented; and at others I felt the fingers of the monster already +grasping my neck, and screamed aloud with agony and terror. +Fortunately, as I spoke my native language, Mr. Kirwin alone understood +me; but my gestures and bitter cries were sufficient to affright the +other witnesses. Why did I not die? More miserable than man ever was +before, why did I not sink into forgetfulness and rest? Death snatches +away many blooming children, the only hopes of their doting parents; +how many brides and youthful lovers have been one day in the bloom of +health and hope, and the next a prey for worms and the decay of the +tomb! Of what materials was I made that I could thus resist so many +shocks, which, like the turning of the wheel, continually renewed the +torture? + +But I was doomed to live and in two months found myself as awaking from +a dream, in a prison, stretched on a wretched bed, surrounded by +jailers, turnkeys, bolts, and all the miserable apparatus of a dungeon. +It was morning, I remember, when I thus awoke to understanding; I had +forgotten the particulars of what had happened and only felt as if some +great misfortune had suddenly overwhelmed me; but when I looked around +and saw the barred windows and the squalidness of the room in which I +was, all flashed across my memory and I groaned bitterly. + +This sound disturbed an old woman who was sleeping in a chair beside +me. She was a hired nurse, the wife of one of the turnkeys, and her +countenance expressed all those bad qualities which often characterize +that class. The lines of her face were hard and rude, like that of +persons accustomed to see without sympathizing in sights of misery. Her +tone expressed her entire indifference; she addressed me in English, +and the voice struck me as one that I had heard during my sufferings. +"Are you better now, sir?" said she. + +I replied in the same language, with a feeble voice, "I believe I am; +but if it be all true, if indeed I did not dream, I am sorry that I am +still alive to feel this misery and horror." + +"For that matter," replied the old woman, "if you mean about the +gentleman you murdered, I believe that it were better for you if you +were dead, for I fancy it will go hard with you! However, that's none +of my business; I am sent to nurse you and get you well; I do my duty +with a safe conscience; it were well if everybody did the same." + +I turned with loathing from the woman who could utter so unfeeling a +speech to a person just saved, on the very edge of death; but I felt +languid and unable to reflect on all that had passed. The whole series +of my life appeared to me as a dream; I sometimes doubted if indeed it +were all true, for it never presented itself to my mind with the force +of reality. + +As the images that floated before me became more distinct, I grew +feverish; a darkness pressed around me; no one was near me who soothed +me with the gentle voice of love; no dear hand supported me. The +physician came and prescribed medicines, and the old woman prepared +them for me; but utter carelessness was visible in the first, and the +expression of brutality was strongly marked in the visage of the +second. Who could be interested in the fate of a murderer but the +hangman who would gain his fee? + +These were my first reflections, but I soon learned that Mr. Kirwin had +shown me extreme kindness. He had caused the best room in the prison +to be prepared for me (wretched indeed was the best); and it was he who +had provided a physician and a nurse. It is true, he seldom came to +see me, for although he ardently desired to relieve the sufferings of +every human creature, he did not wish to be present at the agonies and +miserable ravings of a murderer. He came, therefore, sometimes to see +that I was not neglected, but his visits were short and with long +intervals. One day, while I was gradually recovering, I was seated in +a chair, my eyes half open and my cheeks livid like those in death. I +was overcome by gloom and misery and often reflected I had better seek +death than desire to remain in a world which to me was replete with +wretchedness. At one time I considered whether I should not declare +myself guilty and suffer the penalty of the law, less innocent than +poor Justine had been. Such were my thoughts when the door of my +apartment was opened and Mr. Kirwin entered. His countenance expressed +sympathy and compassion; he drew a chair close to mine and addressed me +in French, "I fear that this place is very shocking to you; can I do +anything to make you more comfortable?" + +"I thank you, but all that you mention is nothing to me; on the whole +earth there is no comfort which I am capable of receiving." + +"I know that the sympathy of a stranger can be but of little relief to +one borne down as you are by so strange a misfortune. But you will, I +hope, soon quit this melancholy abode, for doubtless evidence can +easily be brought to free you from the criminal charge." + +"That is my least concern; I am, by a course of strange events, become +the most miserable of mortals. Persecuted and tortured as I am and +have been, can death be any evil to me?" + +"Nothing indeed could be more unfortunate and agonizing than the +strange chances that have lately occurred. You were thrown, by some +surprising accident, on this shore, renowned for its hospitality, +seized immediately, and charged with murder. The first sight that was +presented to your eyes was the body of your friend, murdered in so +unaccountable a manner and placed, as it were, by some fiend across +your path." + +As Mr. Kirwin said this, notwithstanding the agitation I endured on +this retrospect of my sufferings, I also felt considerable surprise at +the knowledge he seemed to possess concerning me. I suppose some +astonishment was exhibited in my countenance, for Mr. Kirwin hastened +to say, "Immediately upon your being taken ill, all the papers that +were on your person were brought me, and I examined them that I might +discover some trace by which I could send to your relations an account +of your misfortune and illness. I found several letters, and, among +others, one which I discovered from its commencement to be from your +father. I instantly wrote to Geneva; nearly two months have elapsed +since the departure of my letter. But you are ill; even now you +tremble; you are unfit for agitation of any kind." + +"This suspense is a thousand times worse than the most horrible event; +tell me what new scene of death has been acted, and whose murder I am +now to lament?" + +"Your family is perfectly well," said Mr. Kirwin with gentleness; "and +someone, a friend, is come to visit you." + +I know not by what chain of thought the idea presented itself, but it +instantly darted into my mind that the murderer had come to mock at my +misery and taunt me with the death of Clerval, as a new incitement for +me to comply with his hellish desires. I put my hand before my eyes, +and cried out in agony, "Oh! Take him away! I cannot see him; for +God's sake, do not let him enter!" + +Mr. Kirwin regarded me with a troubled countenance. He could not help +regarding my exclamation as a presumption of my guilt and said in +rather a severe tone, "I should have thought, young man, that the +presence of your father would have been welcome instead of inspiring +such violent repugnance." + +"My father!" cried I, while every feature and every muscle was relaxed +from anguish to pleasure. "Is my father indeed come? How kind, how +very kind! But where is he, why does he not hasten to me?" + +My change of manner surprised and pleased the magistrate; perhaps he +thought that my former exclamation was a momentary return of delirium, +and now he instantly resumed his former benevolence. He rose and +quitted the room with my nurse, and in a moment my father entered it. + +Nothing, at this moment, could have given me greater pleasure than the +arrival of my father. I stretched out my hand to him and cried, "Are +you, then, safe--and Elizabeth--and Ernest?" My father calmed me with +assurances of their welfare and endeavoured, by dwelling on these +subjects so interesting to my heart, to raise my desponding spirits; +but he soon felt that a prison cannot be the abode of cheerfulness. + +"What a place is this that you inhabit, my son!" said he, looking +mournfully at the barred windows and wretched appearance of the room. +"You travelled to seek happiness, but a fatality seems to pursue you. +And poor Clerval--" + +The name of my unfortunate and murdered friend was an agitation too +great to be endured in my weak state; I shed tears. "Alas! Yes, my +father," replied I; "some destiny of the most horrible kind hangs over +me, and I must live to fulfil it, or surely I should have died on the +coffin of Henry." + +We were not allowed to converse for any length of time, for the +precarious state of my health rendered every precaution necessary that +could ensure tranquillity. Mr. Kirwin came in and insisted that my +strength should not be exhausted by too much exertion. But the +appearance of my father was to me like that of my good angel, and I +gradually recovered my health. + +As my sickness quitted me, I was absorbed by a gloomy and black +melancholy that nothing could dissipate. The image of Clerval was +forever before me, ghastly and murdered. More than once the agitation +into which these reflections threw me made my friends dread a dangerous +relapse. Alas! Why did they preserve so miserable and detested a +life? It was surely that I might fulfil my destiny, which is now +drawing to a close. Soon, oh, very soon, will death extinguish these +throbbings and relieve me from the mighty weight of anguish that bears +me to the dust; and, in executing the award of justice, I shall also +sink to rest. Then the appearance of death was distant, although the +wish was ever present to my thoughts; and I often sat for hours +motionless and speechless, wishing for some mighty revolution that +might bury me and my destroyer in its ruins. + +The season of the assizes approached. I had already been three months +in prison, and although I was still weak and in continual danger of a +relapse, I was obliged to travel nearly a hundred miles to the country +town where the court was held. Mr. Kirwin charged himself with every +care of collecting witnesses and arranging my defence. I was spared +the disgrace of appearing publicly as a criminal, as the case was not +brought before the court that decides on life and death. The grand +jury rejected the bill, on its being proved that I was on the Orkney +Islands at the hour the body of my friend was found; and a fortnight +after my removal I was liberated from prison. + +My father was enraptured on finding me freed from the vexations of a +criminal charge, that I was again allowed to breathe the fresh +atmosphere and permitted to return to my native country. I did not +participate in these feelings, for to me the walls of a dungeon or a +palace were alike hateful. The cup of life was poisoned forever, and +although the sun shone upon me, as upon the happy and gay of heart, I +saw around me nothing but a dense and frightful darkness, penetrated by +no light but the glimmer of two eyes that glared upon me. Sometimes +they were the expressive eyes of Henry, languishing in death, the dark +orbs nearly covered by the lids and the long black lashes that fringed +them; sometimes it was the watery, clouded eyes of the monster, as I +first saw them in my chamber at Ingolstadt. + +My father tried to awaken in me the feelings of affection. He talked +of Geneva, which I should soon visit, of Elizabeth and Ernest; but +these words only drew deep groans from me. Sometimes, indeed, I felt a +wish for happiness and thought with melancholy delight of my beloved +cousin or longed, with a devouring maladie du pays, to see once more +the blue lake and rapid Rhone, that had been so dear to me in early +childhood; but my general state of feeling was a torpor in which a +prison was as welcome a residence as the divinest scene in nature; and +these fits were seldom interrupted but by paroxysms of anguish and +despair. At these moments I often endeavoured to put an end to the +existence I loathed, and it required unceasing attendance and vigilance +to restrain me from committing some dreadful act of violence. + +Yet one duty remained to me, the recollection of which finally +triumphed over my selfish despair. It was necessary that I should +return without delay to Geneva, there to watch over the lives of those +I so fondly loved and to lie in wait for the murderer, that if any +chance led me to the place of his concealment, or if he dared again to +blast me by his presence, I might, with unfailing aim, put an end to +the existence of the monstrous image which I had endued with the +mockery of a soul still more monstrous. My father still desired to +delay our departure, fearful that I could not sustain the fatigues of a +journey, for I was a shattered wreck--the shadow of a human being. My +strength was gone. I was a mere skeleton, and fever night and day +preyed upon my wasted frame. Still, as I urged our leaving Ireland +with such inquietude and impatience, my father thought it best to +yield. We took our passage on board a vessel bound for Havre-de-Grace +and sailed with a fair wind from the Irish shores. It was midnight. I +lay on the deck looking at the stars and listening to the dashing of +the waves. I hailed the darkness that shut Ireland from my sight, and +my pulse beat with a feverish joy when I reflected that I should soon +see Geneva. The past appeared to me in the light of a frightful dream; +yet the vessel in which I was, the wind that blew me from the detested +shore of Ireland, and the sea which surrounded me told me too forcibly +that I was deceived by no vision and that Clerval, my friend and +dearest companion, had fallen a victim to me and the monster of my +creation. I repassed, in my memory, my whole life--my quiet happiness +while residing with my family in Geneva, the death of my mother, and my +departure for Ingolstadt. I remembered, shuddering, the mad enthusiasm +that hurried me on to the creation of my hideous enemy, and I called to +mind the night in which he first lived. I was unable to pursue the +train of thought; a thousand feelings pressed upon me, and I wept +bitterly. Ever since my recovery from the fever I had been in the +custom of taking every night a small quantity of laudanum, for it was +by means of this drug only that I was enabled to gain the rest +necessary for the preservation of life. Oppressed by the recollection +of my various misfortunes, I now swallowed double my usual quantity and +soon slept profoundly. But sleep did not afford me respite from +thought and misery; my dreams presented a thousand objects that scared +me. Towards morning I was possessed by a kind of nightmare; I felt the +fiend's grasp in my neck and could not free myself from it; groans and +cries rang in my ears. My father, who was watching over me, perceiving +my restlessness, awoke me; the dashing waves were around, the cloudy +sky above, the fiend was not here: a sense of security, a feeling that +a truce was established between the present hour and the irresistible, +disastrous future imparted to me a kind of calm forgetfulness, of which +the human mind is by its structure peculiarly susceptible. + + + +Chapter 22 + +The voyage came to an end. We landed, and proceeded to Paris. I soon +found that I had overtaxed my strength and that I must repose before I +could continue my journey. My father's care and attentions were +indefatigable, but he did not know the origin of my sufferings and +sought erroneous methods to remedy the incurable ill. He wished me to +seek amusement in society. I abhorred the face of man. Oh, not +abhorred! They were my brethren, my fellow beings, and I felt +attracted even to the most repulsive among them, as to creatures of an +angelic nature and celestial mechanism. But I felt that I had no right +to share their intercourse. I had unchained an enemy among them whose +joy it was to shed their blood and to revel in their groans. How they +would, each and all, abhor me and hunt me from the world did they know +my unhallowed acts and the crimes which had their source in me! + +My father yielded at length to my desire to avoid society and strove by +various arguments to banish my despair. Sometimes he thought that I +felt deeply the degradation of being obliged to answer a charge of +murder, and he endeavoured to prove to me the futility of pride. + +"Alas! My father," said I, "how little do you know me. Human beings, +their feelings and passions, would indeed be degraded if such a wretch +as I felt pride. Justine, poor unhappy Justine, was as innocent as I, +and she suffered the same charge; she died for it; and I am the cause +of this--I murdered her. William, Justine, and Henry--they all died by +my hands." + +My father had often, during my imprisonment, heard me make the same +assertion; when I thus accused myself, he sometimes seemed to desire an +explanation, and at others he appeared to consider it as the offspring +of delirium, and that, during my illness, some idea of this kind had +presented itself to my imagination, the remembrance of which I +preserved in my convalescence. + +I avoided explanation and maintained a continual silence concerning the +wretch I had created. I had a persuasion that I should be supposed +mad, and this in itself would forever have chained my tongue. But, +besides, I could not bring myself to disclose a secret which would fill +my hearer with consternation and make fear and unnatural horror the +inmates of his breast. I checked, therefore, my impatient thirst for +sympathy and was silent when I would have given the world to have +confided the fatal secret. Yet, still, words like those I have +recorded would burst uncontrollably from me. I could offer no +explanation of them, but their truth in part relieved the burden of my +mysterious woe. Upon this occasion my father said, with an expression +of unbounded wonder, "My dearest Victor, what infatuation is this? My +dear son, I entreat you never to make such an assertion again." + +"I am not mad," I cried energetically; "the sun and the heavens, who +have viewed my operations, can bear witness of my truth. I am the +assassin of those most innocent victims; they died by my machinations. +A thousand times would I have shed my own blood, drop by drop, to have +saved their lives; but I could not, my father, indeed I could not +sacrifice the whole human race." + +The conclusion of this speech convinced my father that my ideas were +deranged, and he instantly changed the subject of our conversation and +endeavoured to alter the course of my thoughts. He wished as much as +possible to obliterate the memory of the scenes that had taken place in +Ireland and never alluded to them or suffered me to speak of my +misfortunes. + +As time passed away I became more calm; misery had her dwelling in my +heart, but I no longer talked in the same incoherent manner of my own +crimes; sufficient for me was the consciousness of them. By the utmost +self-violence I curbed the imperious voice of wretchedness, which +sometimes desired to declare itself to the whole world, and my manners +were calmer and more composed than they had ever been since my journey +to the sea of ice. A few days before we left Paris on our way to +Switzerland, I received the following letter from Elizabeth: + + +"My dear Friend, + +"It gave me the greatest pleasure to receive a letter from my uncle +dated at Paris; you are no longer at a formidable distance, and I may +hope to see you in less than a fortnight. My poor cousin, how much you +must have suffered! I expect to see you looking even more ill than +when you quitted Geneva. This winter has been passed most miserably, +tortured as I have been by anxious suspense; yet I hope to see peace in +your countenance and to find that your heart is not totally void of +comfort and tranquillity. + +"Yet I fear that the same feelings now exist that made you so miserable +a year ago, even perhaps augmented by time. I would not disturb you at +this period, when so many misfortunes weigh upon you, but a +conversation that I had with my uncle previous to his departure renders +some explanation necessary before we meet. Explanation! You may +possibly say, What can Elizabeth have to explain? If you really say +this, my questions are answered and all my doubts satisfied. But you +are distant from me, and it is possible that you may dread and yet be +pleased with this explanation; and in a probability of this being the +case, I dare not any longer postpone writing what, during your absence, +I have often wished to express to you but have never had the courage to +begin. + +"You well know, Victor, that our union had been the favourite plan of +your parents ever since our infancy. We were told this when young, and +taught to look forward to it as an event that would certainly take +place. We were affectionate playfellows during childhood, and, I +believe, dear and valued friends to one another as we grew older. But +as brother and sister often entertain a lively affection towards each +other without desiring a more intimate union, may not such also be our +case? Tell me, dearest Victor. Answer me, I conjure you by our mutual +happiness, with simple truth--Do you not love another? + +"You have travelled; you have spent several years of your life at +Ingolstadt; and I confess to you, my friend, that when I saw you last +autumn so unhappy, flying to solitude from the society of every +creature, I could not help supposing that you might regret our +connection and believe yourself bound in honour to fulfil the wishes of +your parents, although they opposed themselves to your inclinations. +But this is false reasoning. I confess to you, my friend, that I love +you and that in my airy dreams of futurity you have been my constant +friend and companion. But it is your happiness I desire as well as my +own when I declare to you that our marriage would render me eternally +miserable unless it were the dictate of your own free choice. Even now +I weep to think that, borne down as you are by the cruellest +misfortunes, you may stifle, by the word 'honour,' all hope of that +love and happiness which would alone restore you to yourself. I, who +have so disinterested an affection for you, may increase your miseries +tenfold by being an obstacle to your wishes. Ah! Victor, be assured +that your cousin and playmate has too sincere a love for you not to be +made miserable by this supposition. Be happy, my friend; and if you +obey me in this one request, remain satisfied that nothing on earth +will have the power to interrupt my tranquillity. + +"Do not let this letter disturb you; do not answer tomorrow, or the +next day, or even until you come, if it will give you pain. My uncle +will send me news of your health, and if I see but one smile on your +lips when we meet, occasioned by this or any other exertion of mine, I +shall need no other happiness. + + "Elizabeth Lavenza + + + "Geneva, May 18th, 17--" + + +This letter revived in my memory what I had before forgotten, the +threat of the fiend--"I WILL BE WITH YOU ON YOUR WEDDING-NIGHT!" Such +was my sentence, and on that night would the daemon employ every art to +destroy me and tear me from the glimpse of happiness which promised +partly to console my sufferings. On that night he had determined to +consummate his crimes by my death. Well, be it so; a deadly struggle +would then assuredly take place, in which if he were victorious I +should be at peace and his power over me be at an end. If he were +vanquished, I should be a free man. Alas! What freedom? Such as the +peasant enjoys when his family have been massacred before his eyes, his +cottage burnt, his lands laid waste, and he is turned adrift, homeless, +penniless, and alone, but free. Such would be my liberty except that in +my Elizabeth I possessed a treasure, alas, balanced by those horrors of +remorse and guilt which would pursue me until death. + +Sweet and beloved Elizabeth! I read and reread her letter, and some +softened feelings stole into my heart and dared to whisper paradisiacal +dreams of love and joy; but the apple was already eaten, and the +angel's arm bared to drive me from all hope. Yet I would die to make +her happy. If the monster executed his threat, death was inevitable; +yet, again, I considered whether my marriage would hasten my fate. My +destruction might indeed arrive a few months sooner, but if my torturer +should suspect that I postponed it, influenced by his menaces, he would +surely find other and perhaps more dreadful means of revenge. + +He had vowed TO BE WITH ME ON MY WEDDING-NIGHT, yet he did not consider +that threat as binding him to peace in the meantime, for as if to show +me that he was not yet satiated with blood, he had murdered Clerval +immediately after the enunciation of his threats. I resolved, +therefore, that if my immediate union with my cousin would conduce +either to hers or my father's happiness, my adversary's designs against +my life should not retard it a single hour. + +In this state of mind I wrote to Elizabeth. My letter was calm and +affectionate. "I fear, my beloved girl," I said, "little happiness +remains for us on earth; yet all that I may one day enjoy is centred in +you. Chase away your idle fears; to you alone do I consecrate my life +and my endeavours for contentment. I have one secret, Elizabeth, a +dreadful one; when revealed to you, it will chill your frame with +horror, and then, far from being surprised at my misery, you will only +wonder that I survive what I have endured. I will confide this tale of +misery and terror to you the day after our marriage shall take place, +for, my sweet cousin, there must be perfect confidence between us. But +until then, I conjure you, do not mention or allude to it. This I most +earnestly entreat, and I know you will comply." + +In about a week after the arrival of Elizabeth's letter we returned to +Geneva. The sweet girl welcomed me with warm affection, yet tears were +in her eyes as she beheld my emaciated frame and feverish cheeks. I +saw a change in her also. She was thinner and had lost much of that +heavenly vivacity that had before charmed me; but her gentleness and +soft looks of compassion made her a more fit companion for one blasted +and miserable as I was. The tranquillity which I now enjoyed did not +endure. Memory brought madness with it, and when I thought of what had +passed, a real insanity possessed me; sometimes I was furious and burnt +with rage, sometimes low and despondent. I neither spoke nor looked at +anyone, but sat motionless, bewildered by the multitude of miseries +that overcame me. + +Elizabeth alone had the power to draw me from these fits; her gentle +voice would soothe me when transported by passion and inspire me with +human feelings when sunk in torpor. She wept with me and for me. When +reason returned, she would remonstrate and endeavour to inspire me with +resignation. Ah! It is well for the unfortunate to be resigned, but +for the guilty there is no peace. The agonies of remorse poison the +luxury there is otherwise sometimes found in indulging the excess of +grief. Soon after my arrival my father spoke of my immediate marriage +with Elizabeth. I remained silent. + +"Have you, then, some other attachment?" + +"None on earth. I love Elizabeth and look forward to our union with +delight. Let the day therefore be fixed; and on it I will consecrate +myself, in life or death, to the happiness of my cousin." + +"My dear Victor, do not speak thus. Heavy misfortunes have befallen +us, but let us only cling closer to what remains and transfer our love +for those whom we have lost to those who yet live. Our circle will be +small but bound close by the ties of affection and mutual misfortune. +And when time shall have softened your despair, new and dear objects of +care will be born to replace those of whom we have been so cruelly +deprived." + +Such were the lessons of my father. But to me the remembrance of the +threat returned; nor can you wonder that, omnipotent as the fiend had +yet been in his deeds of blood, I should almost regard him as +invincible, and that when he had pronounced the words "I SHALL BE WITH +YOU ON YOUR WEDDING-NIGHT," I should regard the threatened fate as +unavoidable. But death was no evil to me if the loss of Elizabeth were +balanced with it, and I therefore, with a contented and even cheerful +countenance, agreed with my father that if my cousin would consent, the +ceremony should take place in ten days, and thus put, as I imagined, +the seal to my fate. + +Great God! If for one instant I had thought what might be the hellish +intention of my fiendish adversary, I would rather have banished myself +forever from my native country and wandered a friendless outcast over +the earth than have consented to this miserable marriage. But, as if +possessed of magic powers, the monster had blinded me to his real +intentions; and when I thought that I had prepared only my own death, I +hastened that of a far dearer victim. + +As the period fixed for our marriage drew nearer, whether from +cowardice or a prophetic feeling, I felt my heart sink within me. But +I concealed my feelings by an appearance of hilarity that brought +smiles and joy to the countenance of my father, but hardly deceived the +ever-watchful and nicer eye of Elizabeth. She looked forward to our +union with placid contentment, not unmingled with a little fear, which +past misfortunes had impressed, that what now appeared certain and +tangible happiness might soon dissipate into an airy dream and leave no +trace but deep and everlasting regret. Preparations were made for the +event, congratulatory visits were received, and all wore a smiling +appearance. I shut up, as well as I could, in my own heart the anxiety +that preyed there and entered with seeming earnestness into the plans +of my father, although they might only serve as the decorations of my +tragedy. Through my father's exertions a part of the inheritance of +Elizabeth had been restored to her by the Austrian government. A small +possession on the shores of Como belonged to her. It was agreed that, +immediately after our union, we should proceed to Villa Lavenza and +spend our first days of happiness beside the beautiful lake near which +it stood. + +In the meantime I took every precaution to defend my person in case the +fiend should openly attack me. I carried pistols and a dagger +constantly about me and was ever on the watch to prevent artifice, and +by these means gained a greater degree of tranquillity. Indeed, as the +period approached, the threat appeared more as a delusion, not to be +regarded as worthy to disturb my peace, while the happiness I hoped for +in my marriage wore a greater appearance of certainty as the day fixed +for its solemnization drew nearer and I heard it continually spoken of +as an occurrence which no accident could possibly prevent. + +Elizabeth seemed happy; my tranquil demeanour contributed greatly to +calm her mind. But on the day that was to fulfil my wishes and my +destiny, she was melancholy, and a presentiment of evil pervaded her; +and perhaps also she thought of the dreadful secret which I had +promised to reveal to her on the following day. My father was in the +meantime overjoyed and in the bustle of preparation only recognized in +the melancholy of his niece the diffidence of a bride. + +After the ceremony was performed a large party assembled at my +father's, but it was agreed that Elizabeth and I should commence our +journey by water, sleeping that night at Evian and continuing our +voyage on the following day. The day was fair, the wind favourable; +all smiled on our nuptial embarkation. + +Those were the last moments of my life during which I enjoyed the +feeling of happiness. We passed rapidly along; the sun was hot, but we +were sheltered from its rays by a kind of canopy while we enjoyed the +beauty of the scene, sometimes on one side of the lake, where we saw +Mont Saleve, the pleasant banks of Montalegre, and at a distance, +surmounting all, the beautiful Mont Blanc and the assemblage of snowy +mountains that in vain endeavour to emulate her; sometimes coasting the +opposite banks, we saw the mighty Jura opposing its dark side to the +ambition that would quit its native country, and an almost +insurmountable barrier to the invader who should wish to enslave it. + +I took the hand of Elizabeth. "You are sorrowful, my love. Ah! If +you knew what I have suffered and what I may yet endure, you would +endeavour to let me taste the quiet and freedom from despair that this +one day at least permits me to enjoy." + +"Be happy, my dear Victor," replied Elizabeth; "there is, I hope, +nothing to distress you; and be assured that if a lively joy is not +painted in my face, my heart is contented. Something whispers to me +not to depend too much on the prospect that is opened before us, but I +will not listen to such a sinister voice. Observe how fast we move +along and how the clouds, which sometimes obscure and sometimes rise +above the dome of Mont Blanc, render this scene of beauty still more +interesting. Look also at the innumerable fish that are swimming in +the clear waters, where we can distinguish every pebble that lies at +the bottom. What a divine day! How happy and serene all nature +appears!" + +Thus Elizabeth endeavoured to divert her thoughts and mine from all +reflection upon melancholy subjects. But her temper was fluctuating; +joy for a few instants shone in her eyes, but it continually gave place +to distraction and reverie. + +The sun sank lower in the heavens; we passed the river Drance and +observed its path through the chasms of the higher and the glens of the +lower hills. The Alps here come closer to the lake, and we approached +the amphitheatre of mountains which forms its eastern boundary. The +spire of Evian shone under the woods that surrounded it and the range +of mountain above mountain by which it was overhung. + +The wind, which had hitherto carried us along with amazing rapidity, +sank at sunset to a light breeze; the soft air just ruffled the water +and caused a pleasant motion among the trees as we approached the +shore, from which it wafted the most delightful scent of flowers and +hay. The sun sank beneath the horizon as we landed, and as I touched +the shore I felt those cares and fears revive which soon were to clasp +me and cling to me forever. + + + +Chapter 23 + +It was eight o'clock when we landed; we walked for a short time on the +shore, enjoying the transitory light, and then retired to the inn and +contemplated the lovely scene of waters, woods, and mountains, obscured +in darkness, yet still displaying their black outlines. + +The wind, which had fallen in the south, now rose with great violence +in the west. The moon had reached her summit in the heavens and was +beginning to descend; the clouds swept across it swifter than the +flight of the vulture and dimmed her rays, while the lake reflected the +scene of the busy heavens, rendered still busier by the restless waves +that were beginning to rise. Suddenly a heavy storm of rain descended. + +I had been calm during the day, but so soon as night obscured the +shapes of objects, a thousand fears arose in my mind. I was anxious +and watchful, while my right hand grasped a pistol which was hidden in +my bosom; every sound terrified me, but I resolved that I would sell my +life dearly and not shrink from the conflict until my own life or that +of my adversary was extinguished. Elizabeth observed my agitation for +some time in timid and fearful silence, but there was something in my +glance which communicated terror to her, and trembling, she asked, +"What is it that agitates you, my dear Victor? What is it you fear?" + +"Oh! Peace, peace, my love," replied I; "this night, and all will be +safe; but this night is dreadful, very dreadful." + +I passed an hour in this state of mind, when suddenly I reflected how +fearful the combat which I momentarily expected would be to my wife, +and I earnestly entreated her to retire, resolving not to join her +until I had obtained some knowledge as to the situation of my enemy. + +She left me, and I continued some time walking up and down the passages +of the house and inspecting every corner that might afford a retreat to +my adversary. But I discovered no trace of him and was beginning to +conjecture that some fortunate chance had intervened to prevent the +execution of his menaces when suddenly I heard a shrill and dreadful +scream. It came from the room into which Elizabeth had retired. As I +heard it, the whole truth rushed into my mind, my arms dropped, the +motion of every muscle and fibre was suspended; I could feel the blood +trickling in my veins and tingling in the extremities of my limbs. This +state lasted but for an instant; the scream was repeated, and I rushed +into the room. Great God! Why did I not then expire! Why am I here +to relate the destruction of the best hope and the purest creature on +earth? She was there, lifeless and inanimate, thrown across the bed, +her head hanging down and her pale and distorted features half covered +by her hair. Everywhere I turn I see the same figure--her bloodless +arms and relaxed form flung by the murderer on its bridal bier. Could +I behold this and live? Alas! Life is obstinate and clings closest +where it is most hated. For a moment only did I lose recollection; I +fell senseless on the ground. + +When I recovered I found myself surrounded by the people of the inn; +their countenances expressed a breathless terror, but the horror of +others appeared only as a mockery, a shadow of the feelings that +oppressed me. I escaped from them to the room where lay the body of +Elizabeth, my love, my wife, so lately living, so dear, so worthy. She +had been moved from the posture in which I had first beheld her, and +now, as she lay, her head upon her arm and a handkerchief thrown across +her face and neck, I might have supposed her asleep. I rushed towards +her and embraced her with ardour, but the deadly languor and coldness +of the limbs told me that what I now held in my arms had ceased to be +the Elizabeth whom I had loved and cherished. The murderous mark of +the fiend's grasp was on her neck, and the breath had ceased to issue +from her lips. While I still hung over her in the agony of despair, I +happened to look up. The windows of the room had before been darkened, +and I felt a kind of panic on seeing the pale yellow light of the moon +illuminate the chamber. The shutters had been thrown back, and with a +sensation of horror not to be described, I saw at the open window a +figure the most hideous and abhorred. A grin was on the face of the +monster; he seemed to jeer, as with his fiendish finger he pointed +towards the corpse of my wife. I rushed towards the window, and +drawing a pistol from my bosom, fired; but he eluded me, leaped from +his station, and running with the swiftness of lightning, plunged into +the lake. + +The report of the pistol brought a crowd into the room. I pointed to +the spot where he had disappeared, and we followed the track with +boats; nets were cast, but in vain. After passing several hours, we +returned hopeless, most of my companions believing it to have been a +form conjured up by my fancy. After having landed, they proceeded to +search the country, parties going in different directions among the +woods and vines. + +I attempted to accompany them and proceeded a short distance from the +house, but my head whirled round, my steps were like those of a drunken +man, I fell at last in a state of utter exhaustion; a film covered my +eyes, and my skin was parched with the heat of fever. In this state I +was carried back and placed on a bed, hardly conscious of what had +happened; my eyes wandered round the room as if to seek something that +I had lost. + +After an interval I arose, and as if by instinct, crawled into the room +where the corpse of my beloved lay. There were women weeping around; I +hung over it and joined my sad tears to theirs; all this time no +distinct idea presented itself to my mind, but my thoughts rambled to +various subjects, reflecting confusedly on my misfortunes and their +cause. I was bewildered, in a cloud of wonder and horror. The death +of William, the execution of Justine, the murder of Clerval, and lastly +of my wife; even at that moment I knew not that my only remaining +friends were safe from the malignity of the fiend; my father even now +might be writhing under his grasp, and Ernest might be dead at his +feet. This idea made me shudder and recalled me to action. I started +up and resolved to return to Geneva with all possible speed. + +There were no horses to be procured, and I must return by the lake; but +the wind was unfavourable, and the rain fell in torrents. However, it +was hardly morning, and I might reasonably hope to arrive by night. I +hired men to row and took an oar myself, for I had always experienced +relief from mental torment in bodily exercise. But the overflowing +misery I now felt, and the excess of agitation that I endured rendered +me incapable of any exertion. I threw down the oar, and leaning my +head upon my hands, gave way to every gloomy idea that arose. If I +looked up, I saw scenes which were familiar to me in my happier time +and which I had contemplated but the day before in the company of her +who was now but a shadow and a recollection. Tears streamed from my +eyes. The rain had ceased for a moment, and I saw the fish play in the +waters as they had done a few hours before; they had then been observed +by Elizabeth. Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and +sudden change. The sun might shine or the clouds might lower, but +nothing could appear to me as it had done the day before. A fiend had +snatched from me every hope of future happiness; no creature had ever +been so miserable as I was; so frightful an event is single in the +history of man. But why should I dwell upon the incidents that followed +this last overwhelming event? Mine has been a tale of horrors; I have +reached their acme, and what I must now relate can but be tedious to +you. Know that, one by one, my friends were snatched away; I was left +desolate. My own strength is exhausted, and I must tell, in a few +words, what remains of my hideous narration. I arrived at Geneva. My +father and Ernest yet lived, but the former sunk under the tidings that +I bore. I see him now, excellent and venerable old man! His eyes +wandered in vacancy, for they had lost their charm and their +delight--his Elizabeth, his more than daughter, whom he doted on with +all that affection which a man feels, who in the decline of life, +having few affections, clings more earnestly to those that remain. +Cursed, cursed be the fiend that brought misery on his grey hairs and +doomed him to waste in wretchedness! He could not live under the +horrors that were accumulated around him; the springs of existence +suddenly gave way; he was unable to rise from his bed, and in a few +days he died in my arms. + +What then became of me? I know not; I lost sensation, and chains and +darkness were the only objects that pressed upon me. Sometimes, +indeed, I dreamt that I wandered in flowery meadows and pleasant vales +with the friends of my youth, but I awoke and found myself in a +dungeon. Melancholy followed, but by degrees I gained a clear +conception of my miseries and situation and was then released from my +prison. For they had called me mad, and during many months, as I +understood, a solitary cell had been my habitation. + +Liberty, however, had been a useless gift to me, had I not, as I +awakened to reason, at the same time awakened to revenge. As the +memory of past misfortunes pressed upon me, I began to reflect on their +cause--the monster whom I had created, the miserable daemon whom I had +sent abroad into the world for my destruction. I was possessed by a +maddening rage when I thought of him, and desired and ardently prayed +that I might have him within my grasp to wreak a great and signal +revenge on his cursed head. + +Nor did my hate long confine itself to useless wishes; I began to +reflect on the best means of securing him; and for this purpose, about +a month after my release, I repaired to a criminal judge in the town +and told him that I had an accusation to make, that I knew the +destroyer of my family, and that I required him to exert his whole +authority for the apprehension of the murderer. The magistrate +listened to me with attention and kindness. + +"Be assured, sir," said he, "no pains or exertions on my part shall be +spared to discover the villain." + +"I thank you," replied I; "listen, therefore, to the deposition that I +have to make. It is indeed a tale so strange that I should fear you +would not credit it were there not something in truth which, however +wonderful, forces conviction. The story is too connected to be +mistaken for a dream, and I have no motive for falsehood." My manner as +I thus addressed him was impressive but calm; I had formed in my own +heart a resolution to pursue my destroyer to death, and this purpose +quieted my agony and for an interval reconciled me to life. I now +related my history briefly but with firmness and precision, marking the +dates with accuracy and never deviating into invective or exclamation. + +The magistrate appeared at first perfectly incredulous, but as I +continued he became more attentive and interested; I saw him sometimes +shudder with horror; at others a lively surprise, unmingled with +disbelief, was painted on his countenance. When I had concluded my +narration I said, "This is the being whom I accuse and for whose +seizure and punishment I call upon you to exert your whole power. It +is your duty as a magistrate, and I believe and hope that your feelings +as a man will not revolt from the execution of those functions on this +occasion." This address caused a considerable change in the +physiognomy of my own auditor. He had heard my story with that half +kind of belief that is given to a tale of spirits and supernatural +events; but when he was called upon to act officially in consequence, +the whole tide of his incredulity returned. He, however, answered +mildly, "I would willingly afford you every aid in your pursuit, but +the creature of whom you speak appears to have powers which would put +all my exertions to defiance. Who can follow an animal which can +traverse the sea of ice and inhabit caves and dens where no man would +venture to intrude? Besides, some months have elapsed since the +commission of his crimes, and no one can conjecture to what place he +has wandered or what region he may now inhabit." + +"I do not doubt that he hovers near the spot which I inhabit, and if he +has indeed taken refuge in the Alps, he may be hunted like the chamois +and destroyed as a beast of prey. But I perceive your thoughts; you do +not credit my narrative and do not intend to pursue my enemy with the +punishment which is his desert." As I spoke, rage sparkled in my eyes; +the magistrate was intimidated. "You are mistaken," said he. "I will +exert myself, and if it is in my power to seize the monster, be assured +that he shall suffer punishment proportionate to his crimes. But I +fear, from what you have yourself described to be his properties, that +this will prove impracticable; and thus, while every proper measure is +pursued, you should make up your mind to disappointment." + +"That cannot be; but all that I can say will be of little avail. My +revenge is of no moment to you; yet, while I allow it to be a vice, I +confess that it is the devouring and only passion of my soul. My rage +is unspeakable when I reflect that the murderer, whom I have turned +loose upon society, still exists. You refuse my just demand; I have +but one resource, and I devote myself, either in my life or death, to +his destruction." + +I trembled with excess of agitation as I said this; there was a frenzy +in my manner, and something, I doubt not, of that haughty fierceness +which the martyrs of old are said to have possessed. But to a Genevan +magistrate, whose mind was occupied by far other ideas than those of +devotion and heroism, this elevation of mind had much the appearance of +madness. He endeavoured to soothe me as a nurse does a child and +reverted to my tale as the effects of delirium. + +"Man," I cried, "how ignorant art thou in thy pride of wisdom! Cease; +you know not what it is you say." + +I broke from the house angry and disturbed and retired to meditate on +some other mode of action. + + + +Chapter 24 + +My present situation was one in which all voluntary thought was +swallowed up and lost. I was hurried away by fury; revenge alone +endowed me with strength and composure; it moulded my feelings and +allowed me to be calculating and calm at periods when otherwise +delirium or death would have been my portion. + +My first resolution was to quit Geneva forever; my country, which, when +I was happy and beloved, was dear to me, now, in my adversity, became +hateful. I provided myself with a sum of money, together with a few +jewels which had belonged to my mother, and departed. And now my +wanderings began which are to cease but with life. I have traversed a +vast portion of the earth and have endured all the hardships which +travellers in deserts and barbarous countries are wont to meet. How I +have lived I hardly know; many times have I stretched my failing limbs +upon the sandy plain and prayed for death. But revenge kept me alive; +I dared not die and leave my adversary in being. + +When I quitted Geneva my first labour was to gain some clue by which I +might trace the steps of my fiendish enemy. But my plan was unsettled, +and I wandered many hours round the confines of the town, uncertain +what path I should pursue. As night approached I found myself at the +entrance of the cemetery where William, Elizabeth, and my father +reposed. I entered it and approached the tomb which marked their +graves. Everything was silent except the leaves of the trees, which +were gently agitated by the wind; the night was nearly dark, and the +scene would have been solemn and affecting even to an uninterested +observer. The spirits of the departed seemed to flit around and to +cast a shadow, which was felt but not seen, around the head of the +mourner. + +The deep grief which this scene had at first excited quickly gave way +to rage and despair. They were dead, and I lived; their murderer also +lived, and to destroy him I must drag out my weary existence. I knelt +on the grass and kissed the earth and with quivering lips exclaimed, +"By the sacred earth on which I kneel, by the shades that wander near +me, by the deep and eternal grief that I feel, I swear; and by thee, O +Night, and the spirits that preside over thee, to pursue the daemon who +caused this misery, until he or I shall perish in mortal conflict. For +this purpose I will preserve my life; to execute this dear revenge will +I again behold the sun and tread the green herbage of earth, which +otherwise should vanish from my eyes forever. And I call on you, +spirits of the dead, and on you, wandering ministers of vengeance, to +aid and conduct me in my work. Let the cursed and hellish monster +drink deep of agony; let him feel the despair that now torments me." I +had begun my adjuration with solemnity and an awe which almost assured +me that the shades of my murdered friends heard and approved my +devotion, but the furies possessed me as I concluded, and rage choked +my utterance. + +I was answered through the stillness of night by a loud and fiendish +laugh. It rang on my ears long and heavily; the mountains re-echoed +it, and I felt as if all hell surrounded me with mockery and laughter. +Surely in that moment I should have been possessed by frenzy and have +destroyed my miserable existence but that my vow was heard and that I +was reserved for vengeance. The laughter died away, when a well-known +and abhorred voice, apparently close to my ear, addressed me in an +audible whisper, "I am satisfied, miserable wretch! You have +determined to live, and I am satisfied." + +I darted towards the spot from which the sound proceeded, but the devil +eluded my grasp. Suddenly the broad disk of the moon arose and shone +full upon his ghastly and distorted shape as he fled with more than +mortal speed. + +I pursued him, and for many months this has been my task. Guided by a +slight clue, I followed the windings of the Rhone, but vainly. The +blue Mediterranean appeared, and by a strange chance, I saw the fiend +enter by night and hide himself in a vessel bound for the Black Sea. I +took my passage in the same ship, but he escaped, I know not how. + +Amidst the wilds of Tartary and Russia, although he still evaded me, I +have ever followed in his track. Sometimes the peasants, scared by +this horrid apparition, informed me of his path; sometimes he himself, +who feared that if I lost all trace of him I should despair and die, +left some mark to guide me. The snows descended on my head, and I saw +the print of his huge step on the white plain. To you first entering +on life, to whom care is new and agony unknown, how can you understand +what I have felt and still feel? Cold, want, and fatigue were the +least pains which I was destined to endure; I was cursed by some devil +and carried about with me my eternal hell; yet still a spirit of good +followed and directed my steps and when I most murmured would suddenly +extricate me from seemingly insurmountable difficulties. Sometimes, +when nature, overcome by hunger, sank under the exhaustion, a repast +was prepared for me in the desert that restored and inspirited me. The +fare was, indeed, coarse, such as the peasants of the country ate, but +I will not doubt that it was set there by the spirits that I had +invoked to aid me. Often, when all was dry, the heavens cloudless, and +I was parched by thirst, a slight cloud would bedim the sky, shed the +few drops that revived me, and vanish. + +I followed, when I could, the courses of the rivers; but the daemon +generally avoided these, as it was here that the population of the +country chiefly collected. In other places human beings were seldom +seen, and I generally subsisted on the wild animals that crossed my +path. I had money with me and gained the friendship of the villagers +by distributing it; or I brought with me some food that I had killed, +which, after taking a small part, I always presented to those who had +provided me with fire and utensils for cooking. + +My life, as it passed thus, was indeed hateful to me, and it was during +sleep alone that I could taste joy. O blessed sleep! Often, when most +miserable, I sank to repose, and my dreams lulled me even to rapture. +The spirits that guarded me had provided these moments, or rather +hours, of happiness that I might retain strength to fulfil my +pilgrimage. Deprived of this respite, I should have sunk under my +hardships. During the day I was sustained and inspirited by the hope +of night, for in sleep I saw my friends, my wife, and my beloved +country; again I saw the benevolent countenance of my father, heard the +silver tones of my Elizabeth's voice, and beheld Clerval enjoying +health and youth. Often, when wearied by a toilsome march, I persuaded +myself that I was dreaming until night should come and that I should +then enjoy reality in the arms of my dearest friends. What agonizing +fondness did I feel for them! How did I cling to their dear forms, as +sometimes they haunted even my waking hours, and persuade myself that +they still lived! At such moments vengeance, that burned within me, +died in my heart, and I pursued my path towards the destruction of the +daemon more as a task enjoined by heaven, as the mechanical impulse of +some power of which I was unconscious, than as the ardent desire of my +soul. What his feelings were whom I pursued I cannot know. Sometimes, +indeed, he left marks in writing on the barks of the trees or cut in +stone that guided me and instigated my fury. "My reign is not yet +over"--these words were legible in one of these inscriptions--"you +live, and my power is complete. Follow me; I seek the everlasting ices +of the north, where you will feel the misery of cold and frost, to +which I am impassive. You will find near this place, if you follow not +too tardily, a dead hare; eat and be refreshed. Come on, my enemy; we +have yet to wrestle for our lives, but many hard and miserable hours +must you endure until that period shall arrive." + +Scoffing devil! Again do I vow vengeance; again do I devote thee, +miserable fiend, to torture and death. Never will I give up my search +until he or I perish; and then with what ecstasy shall I join my +Elizabeth and my departed friends, who even now prepare for me the +reward of my tedious toil and horrible pilgrimage! + +As I still pursued my journey to the northward, the snows thickened and +the cold increased in a degree almost too severe to support. The +peasants were shut up in their hovels, and only a few of the most hardy +ventured forth to seize the animals whom starvation had forced from +their hiding-places to seek for prey. The rivers were covered with +ice, and no fish could be procured; and thus I was cut off from my +chief article of maintenance. The triumph of my enemy increased with +the difficulty of my labours. One inscription that he left was in +these words: "Prepare! Your toils only begin; wrap yourself in furs +and provide food, for we shall soon enter upon a journey where your +sufferings will satisfy my everlasting hatred." + +My courage and perseverance were invigorated by these scoffing words; I +resolved not to fail in my purpose, and calling on heaven to support +me, I continued with unabated fervour to traverse immense deserts, +until the ocean appeared at a distance and formed the utmost boundary +of the horizon. Oh! How unlike it was to the blue seasons of the +south! Covered with ice, it was only to be distinguished from land by +its superior wildness and ruggedness. The Greeks wept for joy when +they beheld the Mediterranean from the hills of Asia, and hailed with +rapture the boundary of their toils. I did not weep, but I knelt down +and with a full heart thanked my guiding spirit for conducting me in +safety to the place where I hoped, notwithstanding my adversary's gibe, +to meet and grapple with him. + +Some weeks before this period I had procured a sledge and dogs and thus +traversed the snows with inconceivable speed. I know not whether the +fiend possessed the same advantages, but I found that, as before I had +daily lost ground in the pursuit, I now gained on him, so much so that +when I first saw the ocean he was but one day's journey in advance, and +I hoped to intercept him before he should reach the beach. With new +courage, therefore, I pressed on, and in two days arrived at a wretched +hamlet on the seashore. I inquired of the inhabitants concerning the +fiend and gained accurate information. A gigantic monster, they said, +had arrived the night before, armed with a gun and many pistols, +putting to flight the inhabitants of a solitary cottage through fear of +his terrific appearance. He had carried off their store of winter +food, and placing it in a sledge, to draw which he had seized on a +numerous drove of trained dogs, he had harnessed them, and the same +night, to the joy of the horror-struck villagers, had pursued his +journey across the sea in a direction that led to no land; and they +conjectured that he must speedily be destroyed by the breaking of the +ice or frozen by the eternal frosts. + +On hearing this information I suffered a temporary access of despair. +He had escaped me, and I must commence a destructive and almost endless +journey across the mountainous ices of the ocean, amidst cold that few +of the inhabitants could long endure and which I, the native of a +genial and sunny climate, could not hope to survive. Yet at the idea +that the fiend should live and be triumphant, my rage and vengeance +returned, and like a mighty tide, overwhelmed every other feeling. +After a slight repose, during which the spirits of the dead hovered +round and instigated me to toil and revenge, I prepared for my journey. +I exchanged my land-sledge for one fashioned for the inequalities of +the frozen ocean, and purchasing a plentiful stock of provisions, I +departed from land. + +I cannot guess how many days have passed since then, but I have endured +misery which nothing but the eternal sentiment of a just retribution +burning within my heart could have enabled me to support. Immense and +rugged mountains of ice often barred up my passage, and I often heard +the thunder of the ground sea, which threatened my destruction. But +again the frost came and made the paths of the sea secure. + +By the quantity of provision which I had consumed, I should guess that +I had passed three weeks in this journey; and the continual protraction +of hope, returning back upon the heart, often wrung bitter drops of +despondency and grief from my eyes. Despair had indeed almost secured +her prey, and I should soon have sunk beneath this misery. Once, after +the poor animals that conveyed me had with incredible toil gained the +summit of a sloping ice mountain, and one, sinking under his fatigue, +died, I viewed the expanse before me with anguish, when suddenly my eye +caught a dark speck upon the dusky plain. I strained my sight to +discover what it could be and uttered a wild cry of ecstasy when I +distinguished a sledge and the distorted proportions of a well-known +form within. Oh! With what a burning gush did hope revisit my heart! +Warm tears filled my eyes, which I hastily wiped away, that they might +not intercept the view I had of the daemon; but still my sight was +dimmed by the burning drops, until, giving way to the emotions that +oppressed me, I wept aloud. + +But this was not the time for delay; I disencumbered the dogs of their +dead companion, gave them a plentiful portion of food, and after an +hour's rest, which was absolutely necessary, and yet which was bitterly +irksome to me, I continued my route. The sledge was still visible, nor +did I again lose sight of it except at the moments when for a short +time some ice-rock concealed it with its intervening crags. I indeed +perceptibly gained on it, and when, after nearly two days' journey, I +beheld my enemy at no more than a mile distant, my heart bounded within +me. + +But now, when I appeared almost within grasp of my foe, my hopes were +suddenly extinguished, and I lost all trace of him more utterly than I +had ever done before. A ground sea was heard; the thunder of its +progress, as the waters rolled and swelled beneath me, became every +moment more ominous and terrific. I pressed on, but in vain. The wind +arose; the sea roared; and, as with the mighty shock of an earthquake, +it split and cracked with a tremendous and overwhelming sound. The +work was soon finished; in a few minutes a tumultuous sea rolled +between me and my enemy, and I was left drifting on a scattered piece +of ice that was continually lessening and thus preparing for me a +hideous death. In this manner many appalling hours passed; several of +my dogs died, and I myself was about to sink under the accumulation of +distress when I saw your vessel riding at anchor and holding forth to +me hopes of succour and life. I had no conception that vessels ever +came so far north and was astounded at the sight. I quickly destroyed +part of my sledge to construct oars, and by these means was enabled, +with infinite fatigue, to move my ice raft in the direction of your +ship. I had determined, if you were going southwards, still to trust +myself to the mercy of the seas rather than abandon my purpose. I +hoped to induce you to grant me a boat with which I could pursue my +enemy. But your direction was northwards. You took me on board when +my vigour was exhausted, and I should soon have sunk under my +multiplied hardships into a death which I still dread, for my task is +unfulfilled. + +Oh! When will my guiding spirit, in conducting me to the daemon, allow +me the rest I so much desire; or must I die, and he yet live? If I do, +swear to me, Walton, that he shall not escape, that you will seek him +and satisfy my vengeance in his death. And do I dare to ask of you to +undertake my pilgrimage, to endure the hardships that I have undergone? +No; I am not so selfish. Yet, when I am dead, if he should appear, if +the ministers of vengeance should conduct him to you, swear that he +shall not live--swear that he shall not triumph over my accumulated +woes and survive to add to the list of his dark crimes. He is eloquent +and persuasive, and once his words had even power over my heart; but +trust him not. His soul is as hellish as his form, full of treachery +and fiend-like malice. Hear him not; call on the names of William, +Justine, Clerval, Elizabeth, my father, and of the wretched Victor, and +thrust your sword into his heart. I will hover near and direct the +steel aright. + + + Walton, in continuation. + + + + August 26th, 17-- + + +You have read this strange and terrific story, Margaret; and do you not +feel your blood congeal with horror, like that which even now curdles +mine? Sometimes, seized with sudden agony, he could not continue his +tale; at others, his voice broken, yet piercing, uttered with +difficulty the words so replete with anguish. His fine and lovely eyes +were now lighted up with indignation, now subdued to downcast sorrow +and quenched in infinite wretchedness. Sometimes he commanded his +countenance and tones and related the most horrible incidents with a +tranquil voice, suppressing every mark of agitation; then, like a +volcano bursting forth, his face would suddenly change to an expression +of the wildest rage as he shrieked out imprecations on his persecutor. + +His tale is connected and told with an appearance of the simplest +truth, yet I own to you that the letters of Felix and Safie, which he +showed me, and the apparition of the monster seen from our ship, +brought to me a greater conviction of the truth of his narrative than +his asseverations, however earnest and connected. Such a monster has, +then, really existence! I cannot doubt it, yet I am lost in surprise +and admiration. Sometimes I endeavoured to gain from Frankenstein the +particulars of his creature's formation, but on this point he was +impenetrable. "Are you mad, my friend?" said he. "Or whither does your +senseless curiosity lead you? Would you also create for yourself and +the world a demoniacal enemy? Peace, peace! Learn my miseries and do +not seek to increase your own." Frankenstein discovered that I made +notes concerning his history; he asked to see them and then himself +corrected and augmented them in many places, but principally in giving +the life and spirit to the conversations he held with his enemy. "Since +you have preserved my narration," said he, "I would not that a +mutilated one should go down to posterity." + +Thus has a week passed away, while I have listened to the strangest +tale that ever imagination formed. My thoughts and every feeling of my +soul have been drunk up by the interest for my guest which this tale +and his own elevated and gentle manners have created. I wish to soothe +him, yet can I counsel one so infinitely miserable, so destitute of +every hope of consolation, to live? Oh, no! The only joy that he can +now know will be when he composes his shattered spirit to peace and +death. Yet he enjoys one comfort, the offspring of solitude and +delirium; he believes that when in dreams he holds converse with his +friends and derives from that communion consolation for his miseries or +excitements to his vengeance, that they are not the creations of his +fancy, but the beings themselves who visit him from the regions of a +remote world. This faith gives a solemnity to his reveries that render +them to me almost as imposing and interesting as truth. + +Our conversations are not always confined to his own history and +misfortunes. On every point of general literature he displays +unbounded knowledge and a quick and piercing apprehension. His +eloquence is forcible and touching; nor can I hear him, when he relates +a pathetic incident or endeavours to move the passions of pity or love, +without tears. What a glorious creature must he have been in the days +of his prosperity, when he is thus noble and godlike in ruin! He seems +to feel his own worth and the greatness of his fall. + +"When younger," said he, "I believed myself destined for some great +enterprise. My feelings are profound, but I possessed a coolness of +judgment that fitted me for illustrious achievements. This sentiment +of the worth of my nature supported me when others would have been +oppressed, for I deemed it criminal to throw away in useless grief +those talents that might be useful to my fellow creatures. When I +reflected on the work I had completed, no less a one than the creation +of a sensitive and rational animal, I could not rank myself with the +herd of common projectors. But this thought, which supported me in the +commencement of my career, now serves only to plunge me lower in the +dust. All my speculations and hopes are as nothing, and like the +archangel who aspired to omnipotence, I am chained in an eternal hell. +My imagination was vivid, yet my powers of analysis and application +were intense; by the union of these qualities I conceived the idea and +executed the creation of a man. Even now I cannot recollect without +passion my reveries while the work was incomplete. I trod heaven in my +thoughts, now exulting in my powers, now burning with the idea of their +effects. From my infancy I was imbued with high hopes and a lofty +ambition; but how am I sunk! Oh! My friend, if you had known me as I +once was, you would not recognize me in this state of degradation. +Despondency rarely visited my heart; a high destiny seemed to bear me +on, until I fell, never, never again to rise." Must I then lose this +admirable being? I have longed for a friend; I have sought one who +would sympathize with and love me. Behold, on these desert seas I have +found such a one, but I fear I have gained him only to know his value +and lose him. I would reconcile him to life, but he repulses the idea. + +"I thank you, Walton," he said, "for your kind intentions towards so +miserable a wretch; but when you speak of new ties and fresh +affections, think you that any can replace those who are gone? Can any +man be to me as Clerval was, or any woman another Elizabeth? Even +where the affections are not strongly moved by any superior excellence, +the companions of our childhood always possess a certain power over our +minds which hardly any later friend can obtain. They know our +infantine dispositions, which, however they may be afterwards modified, +are never eradicated; and they can judge of our actions with more +certain conclusions as to the integrity of our motives. A sister or a +brother can never, unless indeed such symptoms have been shown early, +suspect the other of fraud or false dealing, when another friend, +however strongly he may be attached, may, in spite of himself, be +contemplated with suspicion. But I enjoyed friends, dear not only +through habit and association, but from their own merits; and wherever +I am, the soothing voice of my Elizabeth and the conversation of +Clerval will be ever whispered in my ear. They are dead, and but one +feeling in such a solitude can persuade me to preserve my life. If I +were engaged in any high undertaking or design, fraught with extensive +utility to my fellow creatures, then could I live to fulfil it. But +such is not my destiny; I must pursue and destroy the being to whom I +gave existence; then my lot on earth will be fulfilled and I may die." + + + + +September 2nd + +My beloved Sister, + +I write to you, encompassed by peril and ignorant whether I am ever +doomed to see again dear England and the dearer friends that inhabit +it. I am surrounded by mountains of ice which admit of no escape and +threaten every moment to crush my vessel. The brave fellows whom I +have persuaded to be my companions look towards me for aid, but I have +none to bestow. There is something terribly appalling in our +situation, yet my courage and hopes do not desert me. Yet it is +terrible to reflect that the lives of all these men are endangered +through me. If we are lost, my mad schemes are the cause. + +And what, Margaret, will be the state of your mind? You will not hear +of my destruction, and you will anxiously await my return. Years will +pass, and you will have visitings of despair and yet be tortured by +hope. Oh! My beloved sister, the sickening failing of your heart-felt +expectations is, in prospect, more terrible to me than my own death. + +But you have a husband and lovely children; you may be happy. Heaven +bless you and make you so! + +My unfortunate guest regards me with the tenderest compassion. He +endeavours to fill me with hope and talks as if life were a possession +which he valued. He reminds me how often the same accidents have +happened to other navigators who have attempted this sea, and in spite +of myself, he fills me with cheerful auguries. Even the sailors feel +the power of his eloquence; when he speaks, they no longer despair; he +rouses their energies, and while they hear his voice they believe these +vast mountains of ice are mole-hills which will vanish before the +resolutions of man. These feelings are transitory; each day of +expectation delayed fills them with fear, and I almost dread a mutiny +caused by this despair. + + + +September 5th + + +A scene has just passed of such uncommon interest that, although it is +highly probable that these papers may never reach you, yet I cannot +forbear recording it. + +We are still surrounded by mountains of ice, still in imminent danger +of being crushed in their conflict. The cold is excessive, and many of +my unfortunate comrades have already found a grave amidst this scene of +desolation. Frankenstein has daily declined in health; a feverish fire +still glimmers in his eyes, but he is exhausted, and when suddenly +roused to any exertion, he speedily sinks again into apparent +lifelessness. + +I mentioned in my last letter the fears I entertained of a mutiny. +This morning, as I sat watching the wan countenance of my friend--his +eyes half closed and his limbs hanging listlessly--I was roused by half +a dozen of the sailors, who demanded admission into the cabin. They +entered, and their leader addressed me. He told me that he and his +companions had been chosen by the other sailors to come in deputation +to me to make me a requisition which, in justice, I could not refuse. +We were immured in ice and should probably never escape, but they +feared that if, as was possible, the ice should dissipate and a free +passage be opened, I should be rash enough to continue my voyage and +lead them into fresh dangers, after they might happily have surmounted +this. They insisted, therefore, that I should engage with a solemn +promise that if the vessel should be freed I would instantly direct my +course southwards. + +This speech troubled me. I had not despaired, nor had I yet conceived +the idea of returning if set free. Yet could I, in justice, or even in +possibility, refuse this demand? I hesitated before I answered, when +Frankenstein, who had at first been silent, and indeed appeared hardly +to have force enough to attend, now roused himself; his eyes sparkled, +and his cheeks flushed with momentary vigour. Turning towards the men, +he said, "What do you mean? What do you demand of your captain? Are +you, then, so easily turned from your design? Did you not call this a +glorious expedition? + +"And wherefore was it glorious? Not because the way was smooth and +placid as a southern sea, but because it was full of dangers and +terror, because at every new incident your fortitude was to be called +forth and your courage exhibited, because danger and death surrounded +it, and these you were to brave and overcome. For this was it a +glorious, for this was it an honourable undertaking. You were +hereafter to be hailed as the benefactors of your species, your names +adored as belonging to brave men who encountered death for honour and +the benefit of mankind. And now, behold, with the first imagination of +danger, or, if you will, the first mighty and terrific trial of your +courage, you shrink away and are content to be handed down as men who +had not strength enough to endure cold and peril; and so, poor souls, +they were chilly and returned to their warm firesides. Why, that +requires not this preparation; ye need not have come thus far and +dragged your captain to the shame of a defeat merely to prove +yourselves cowards. Oh! Be men, or be more than men. Be steady to +your purposes and firm as a rock. This ice is not made of such stuff as +your hearts may be; it is mutable and cannot withstand you if you say +that it shall not. Do not return to your families with the stigma of +disgrace marked on your brows. Return as heroes who have fought and +conquered and who know not what it is to turn their backs on the foe." +He spoke this with a voice so modulated to the different feelings +expressed in his speech, with an eye so full of lofty design and +heroism, that can you wonder that these men were moved? They looked at +one another and were unable to reply. I spoke; I told them to retire +and consider of what had been said, that I would not lead them farther +north if they strenuously desired the contrary, but that I hoped that, +with reflection, their courage would return. They retired and I turned +towards my friend, but he was sunk in languor and almost deprived of +life. + +How all this will terminate, I know not, but I had rather die than +return shamefully, my purpose unfulfilled. Yet I fear such will be my +fate; the men, unsupported by ideas of glory and honour, can never +willingly continue to endure their present hardships. + + + +September 7th + + +The die is cast; I have consented to return if we are not destroyed. +Thus are my hopes blasted by cowardice and indecision; I come back +ignorant and disappointed. It requires more philosophy than I possess +to bear this injustice with patience. + + + +September 12th + + +It is past; I am returning to England. I have lost my hopes of utility +and glory; I have lost my friend. But I will endeavour to detail these +bitter circumstances to you, my dear sister; and while I am wafted +towards England and towards you, I will not despond. + +September 9th, the ice began to move, and roarings like thunder were +heard at a distance as the islands split and cracked in every +direction. We were in the most imminent peril, but as we could only +remain passive, my chief attention was occupied by my unfortunate guest +whose illness increased in such a degree that he was entirely confined +to his bed. The ice cracked behind us and was driven with force +towards the north; a breeze sprang from the west, and on the 11th the +passage towards the south became perfectly free. When the sailors saw +this and that their return to their native country was apparently +assured, a shout of tumultuous joy broke from them, loud and +long-continued. Frankenstein, who was dozing, awoke and asked the +cause of the tumult. "They shout," I said, "because they will soon +return to England." + +"Do you, then, really return?" + +"Alas! Yes; I cannot withstand their demands. I cannot lead them +unwillingly to danger, and I must return." + +"Do so, if you will; but I will not. You may give up your purpose, but +mine is assigned to me by heaven, and I dare not. I am weak, but +surely the spirits who assist my vengeance will endow me with +sufficient strength." Saying this, he endeavoured to spring from the +bed, but the exertion was too great for him; he fell back and fainted. + +It was long before he was restored, and I often thought that life was +entirely extinct. At length he opened his eyes; he breathed with +difficulty and was unable to speak. The surgeon gave him a composing +draught and ordered us to leave him undisturbed. In the meantime he +told me that my friend had certainly not many hours to live. + +His sentence was pronounced, and I could only grieve and be patient. I +sat by his bed, watching him; his eyes were closed, and I thought he +slept; but presently he called to me in a feeble voice, and bidding me +come near, said, "Alas! The strength I relied on is gone; I feel that +I shall soon die, and he, my enemy and persecutor, may still be in +being. Think not, Walton, that in the last moments of my existence I +feel that burning hatred and ardent desire of revenge I once expressed; +but I feel myself justified in desiring the death of my adversary. +During these last days I have been occupied in examining my past +conduct; nor do I find it blamable. In a fit of enthusiastic madness I +created a rational creature and was bound towards him to assure, as far +as was in my power, his happiness and well-being. + +"This was my duty, but there was another still paramount to that. My +duties towards the beings of my own species had greater claims to my +attention because they included a greater proportion of happiness or +misery. Urged by this view, I refused, and I did right in refusing, to +create a companion for the first creature. He showed unparalleled +malignity and selfishness in evil; he destroyed my friends; he devoted +to destruction beings who possessed exquisite sensations, happiness, +and wisdom; nor do I know where this thirst for vengeance may end. +Miserable himself that he may render no other wretched, he ought to +die. The task of his destruction was mine, but I have failed. When +actuated by selfish and vicious motives, I asked you to undertake my +unfinished work, and I renew this request now, when I am only induced +by reason and virtue. + +"Yet I cannot ask you to renounce your country and friends to fulfil +this task; and now that you are returning to England, you will have +little chance of meeting with him. But the consideration of these +points, and the well balancing of what you may esteem your duties, I +leave to you; my judgment and ideas are already disturbed by the near +approach of death. I dare not ask you to do what I think right, for I +may still be misled by passion. + +"That he should live to be an instrument of mischief disturbs me; in +other respects, this hour, when I momentarily expect my release, is the +only happy one which I have enjoyed for several years. The forms of +the beloved dead flit before me, and I hasten to their arms. Farewell, +Walton! Seek happiness in tranquillity and avoid ambition, even if it +be only the apparently innocent one of distinguishing yourself in +science and discoveries. Yet why do I say this? I have myself been +blasted in these hopes, yet another may succeed." + +His voice became fainter as he spoke, and at length, exhausted by his +effort, he sank into silence. About half an hour afterwards he +attempted again to speak but was unable; he pressed my hand feebly, and +his eyes closed forever, while the irradiation of a gentle smile passed +away from his lips. + +Margaret, what comment can I make on the untimely extinction of this +glorious spirit? What can I say that will enable you to understand the +depth of my sorrow? All that I should express would be inadequate and +feeble. My tears flow; my mind is overshadowed by a cloud of +disappointment. But I journey towards England, and I may there find +consolation. + +I am interrupted. What do these sounds portend? It is midnight; the +breeze blows fairly, and the watch on deck scarcely stir. Again there +is a sound as of a human voice, but hoarser; it comes from the cabin +where the remains of Frankenstein still lie. I must arise and examine. +Good night, my sister. + +Great God! what a scene has just taken place! I am yet dizzy with the +remembrance of it. I hardly know whether I shall have the power to +detail it; yet the tale which I have recorded would be incomplete +without this final and wonderful catastrophe. I entered the cabin where +lay the remains of my ill-fated and admirable friend. Over him hung a +form which I cannot find words to describe--gigantic in stature, yet +uncouth and distorted in its proportions. As he hung over the coffin, +his face was concealed by long locks of ragged hair; but one vast hand +was extended, in colour and apparent texture like that of a mummy. When +he heard the sound of my approach, he ceased to utter exclamations of +grief and horror and sprung towards the window. Never did I behold a +vision so horrible as his face, of such loathsome yet appalling +hideousness. I shut my eyes involuntarily and endeavoured to recollect +what were my duties with regard to this destroyer. I called on him to +stay. + +He paused, looking on me with wonder, and again turning towards the +lifeless form of his creator, he seemed to forget my presence, and +every feature and gesture seemed instigated by the wildest rage of some +uncontrollable passion. + +"That is also my victim!" he exclaimed. "In his murder my crimes are +consummated; the miserable series of my being is wound to its close! +Oh, Frankenstein! Generous and self-devoted being! What does it avail +that I now ask thee to pardon me? I, who irretrievably destroyed thee +by destroying all thou lovedst. Alas! He is cold, he cannot answer +me." His voice seemed suffocated, and my first impulses, which had +suggested to me the duty of obeying the dying request of my friend in +destroying his enemy, were now suspended by a mixture of curiosity and +compassion. I approached this tremendous being; I dared not again +raise my eyes to his face, there was something so scaring and unearthly +in his ugliness. I attempted to speak, but the words died away on my +lips. The monster continued to utter wild and incoherent +self-reproaches. At length I gathered resolution to address him in a +pause of the tempest of his passion. + +"Your repentance," I said, "is now superfluous. If you had listened to +the voice of conscience and heeded the stings of remorse before you had +urged your diabolical vengeance to this extremity, Frankenstein would +yet have lived." + +"And do you dream?" said the daemon. "Do you think that I was then +dead to agony and remorse? He," he continued, pointing to the corpse, +"he suffered not in the consummation of the deed. Oh! Not the +ten-thousandth portion of the anguish that was mine during the +lingering detail of its execution. A frightful selfishness hurried me +on, while my heart was poisoned with remorse. Think you that the +groans of Clerval were music to my ears? My heart was fashioned to be +susceptible of love and sympathy, and when wrenched by misery to vice +and hatred, it did not endure the violence of the change without +torture such as you cannot even imagine. + +"After the murder of Clerval I returned to Switzerland, heart-broken +and overcome. I pitied Frankenstein; my pity amounted to horror; I +abhorred myself. But when I discovered that he, the author at once of +my existence and of its unspeakable torments, dared to hope for +happiness, that while he accumulated wretchedness and despair upon me +he sought his own enjoyment in feelings and passions from the +indulgence of which I was forever barred, then impotent envy and bitter +indignation filled me with an insatiable thirst for vengeance. I +recollected my threat and resolved that it should be accomplished. I +knew that I was preparing for myself a deadly torture, but I was the +slave, not the master, of an impulse which I detested yet could not +disobey. Yet when she died! Nay, then I was not miserable. I had +cast off all feeling, subdued all anguish, to riot in the excess of my +despair. Evil thenceforth became my good. Urged thus far, I had no +choice but to adapt my nature to an element which I had willingly +chosen. The completion of my demoniacal design became an insatiable +passion. And now it is ended; there is my last victim!" + +I was at first touched by the expressions of his misery; yet, when I +called to mind what Frankenstein had said of his powers of eloquence +and persuasion, and when I again cast my eyes on the lifeless form of +my friend, indignation was rekindled within me. "Wretch!" I said. "It +is well that you come here to whine over the desolation that you have +made. You throw a torch into a pile of buildings, and when they are +consumed, you sit among the ruins and lament the fall. Hypocritical +fiend! If he whom you mourn still lived, still would he be the object, +again would he become the prey, of your accursed vengeance. It is not +pity that you feel; you lament only because the victim of your +malignity is withdrawn from your power." + +"Oh, it is not thus--not thus," interrupted the being. "Yet such must +be the impression conveyed to you by what appears to be the purport of +my actions. Yet I seek not a fellow feeling in my misery. No sympathy +may I ever find. When I first sought it, it was the love of virtue, +the feelings of happiness and affection with which my whole being +overflowed, that I wished to be participated. But now that virtue has +become to me a shadow, and that happiness and affection are turned into +bitter and loathing despair, in what should I seek for sympathy? I am +content to suffer alone while my sufferings shall endure; when I die, I +am well satisfied that abhorrence and opprobrium should load my memory. +Once my fancy was soothed with dreams of virtue, of fame, and of +enjoyment. Once I falsely hoped to meet with beings who, pardoning my +outward form, would love me for the excellent qualities which I was +capable of unfolding. I was nourished with high thoughts of honour and +devotion. But now crime has degraded me beneath the meanest animal. No +guilt, no mischief, no malignity, no misery, can be found comparable to +mine. When I run over the frightful catalogue of my sins, I cannot +believe that I am the same creature whose thoughts were once filled +with sublime and transcendent visions of the beauty and the majesty of +goodness. But it is even so; the fallen angel becomes a malignant +devil. Yet even that enemy of God and man had friends and associates +in his desolation; I am alone. + +"You, who call Frankenstein your friend, seem to have a knowledge of my +crimes and his misfortunes. But in the detail which he gave you of them +he could not sum up the hours and months of misery which I endured +wasting in impotent passions. For while I destroyed his hopes, I did +not satisfy my own desires. They were forever ardent and craving; still +I desired love and fellowship, and I was still spurned. Was there no +injustice in this? Am I to be thought the only criminal, when all +humankind sinned against me? Why do you not hate Felix, who drove his +friend from his door with contumely? Why do you not execrate the rustic +who sought to destroy the saviour of his child? Nay, these are virtuous +and immaculate beings! I, the miserable and the abandoned, am an +abortion, to be spurned at, and kicked, and trampled on. Even now my +blood boils at the recollection of this injustice. + +"But it is true that I am a wretch. I have murdered the lovely and the +helpless; I have strangled the innocent as they slept and grasped to +death his throat who never injured me or any other living thing. I +have devoted my creator, the select specimen of all that is worthy of +love and admiration among men, to misery; I have pursued him even to +that irremediable ruin. + +"There he lies, white and cold in death. You hate me, but your +abhorrence cannot equal that with which I regard myself. I look on the +hands which executed the deed; I think on the heart in which the +imagination of it was conceived and long for the moment when these +hands will meet my eyes, when that imagination will haunt my thoughts +no more. + +"Fear not that I shall be the instrument of future mischief. My work +is nearly complete. Neither yours nor any man's death is needed to +consummate the series of my being and accomplish that which must be +done, but it requires my own. Do not think that I shall be slow to +perform this sacrifice. I shall quit your vessel on the ice raft which +brought me thither and shall seek the most northern extremity of the +globe; I shall collect my funeral pile and consume to ashes this +miserable frame, that its remains may afford no light to any curious +and unhallowed wretch who would create such another as I have been. I +shall die. I shall no longer feel the agonies which now consume me or +be the prey of feelings unsatisfied, yet unquenched. He is dead who +called me into being; and when I shall be no more, the very remembrance +of us both will speedily vanish. I shall no longer see the sun or +stars or feel the winds play on my cheeks. + +"Light, feeling, and sense will pass away; and in this condition must I +find my happiness. Some years ago, when the images which this world +affords first opened upon me, when I felt the cheering warmth of summer +and heard the rustling of the leaves and the warbling of the birds, and +these were all to me, I should have wept to die; now it is my only +consolation. Polluted by crimes and torn by the bitterest remorse, +where can I find rest but in death? + +"Farewell! I leave you, and in you the last of humankind whom these +eyes will ever behold. Farewell, Frankenstein! If thou wert yet alive +and yet cherished a desire of revenge against me, it would be better +satiated in my life than in my destruction. But it was not so; thou +didst seek my extinction, that I might not cause greater wretchedness; +and if yet, in some mode unknown to me, thou hadst not ceased to think +and feel, thou wouldst not desire against me a vengeance greater than +that which I feel. Blasted as thou wert, my agony was still superior to +thine, for the bitter sting of remorse will not cease to rankle in my +wounds until death shall close them forever. + +"But soon," he cried with sad and solemn enthusiasm, "I shall die, and +what I now feel be no longer felt. Soon these burning miseries will be +extinct. I shall ascend my funeral pile triumphantly and exult in the +agony of the torturing flames. The light of that conflagration will +fade away; my ashes will be swept into the sea by the winds. My spirit +will sleep in peace, or if it thinks, it will not surely think thus. +Farewell." + +He sprang from the cabin window as he said this, upon the ice raft +which lay close to the vessel. He was soon borne away by the waves and +lost in darkness and distance. + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Frankenstein, by +Mary Wollstonecraft (Godwin) Shelley + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRANKENSTEIN *** + +***** This file should be named 84.txt or 84.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/84/ + +Produced by Judith Boss, Christy Phillips, Lynn Hanninen, +and David Meltzer. HTML version by Al Haines. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.net + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/src/main/pg-grimm.txt b/src/main/pg-grimm.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..66e5304 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/main/pg-grimm.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9569 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Grimms' Fairy Tales, by The Brothers Grimm + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Grimms' Fairy Tales + +Author: The Brothers Grimm + +Translator: Edgar Taylor and Marian Edwardes + +Posting Date: December 14, 2008 [EBook #2591] +Release Date: April, 2001 + +Language: English + + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRIMMS' FAIRY TALES *** + + + + +Produced by Emma Dudding, John Bickers, and Dagny + + + + + +FAIRY TALES + +By The Brothers Grimm + + + +PREPARER'S NOTE + + The text is based on translations from + the Grimms' Kinder und Hausmarchen by + Edgar Taylor and Marian Edwardes. + + + + +CONTENTS: + + THE GOLDEN BIRD + HANS IN LUCK + JORINDA AND JORINDEL + THE TRAVELLING MUSICIANS + OLD SULTAN + THE STRAW, THE COAL, AND THE BEAN + BRIAR ROSE + THE DOG AND THE SPARROW + THE TWELVE DANCING PRINCESSES + THE FISHERMAN AND HIS WIFE + THE WILLOW-WREN AND THE BEAR + THE FROG-PRINCE + CAT AND MOUSE IN PARTNERSHIP + THE GOOSE-GIRL + THE ADVENTURES OF CHANTICLEER AND PARTLET + 1. HOW THEY WENT TO THE MOUNTAINS TO EAT NUTS + 2. HOW CHANTICLEER AND PARTLET WENT TO VISIT MR KORBES + RAPUNZEL + FUNDEVOGEL + THE VALIANT LITTLE TAILOR + HANSEL AND GRETEL + THE MOUSE, THE BIRD, AND THE SAUSAGE + MOTHER HOLLE + LITTLE RED-CAP [LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD] + THE ROBBER BRIDEGROOM + TOM THUMB + RUMPELSTILTSKIN + CLEVER GRETEL + THE OLD MAN AND HIS GRANDSON + THE LITTLE PEASANT + FREDERICK AND CATHERINE + SWEETHEART ROLAND + SNOWDROP + THE PINK + CLEVER ELSIE + THE MISER IN THE BUSH + ASHPUTTEL + THE WHITE SNAKE + THE WOLF AND THE SEVEN LITTLE KIDS + THE QUEEN BEE + THE ELVES AND THE SHOEMAKER + THE JUNIPER-TREE + the juniper-tree. + THE TURNIP + CLEVER HANS + THE THREE LANGUAGES + THE FOX AND THE CAT + THE FOUR CLEVER BROTHERS + LILY AND THE LION + THE FOX AND THE HORSE + THE BLUE LIGHT + THE RAVEN + THE GOLDEN GOOSE + THE WATER OF LIFE + THE TWELVE HUNTSMEN + THE KING OF THE GOLDEN MOUNTAIN + DOCTOR KNOWALL + THE SEVEN RAVENS + THE WEDDING OF MRS FOX + FIRST STORY + SECOND STORY + THE SALAD + THE STORY OF THE YOUTH WHO WENT FORTH TO LEARN WHAT FEAR WAS + KING GRISLY-BEARD + IRON HANS + CAT-SKIN + SNOW-WHITE AND ROSE-RED + + + + +THE BROTHERS GRIMM FAIRY TALES + + + + +THE GOLDEN BIRD + +A certain king had a beautiful garden, and in the garden stood a tree +which bore golden apples. These apples were always counted, and about +the time when they began to grow ripe it was found that every night one +of them was gone. The king became very angry at this, and ordered the +gardener to keep watch all night under the tree. The gardener set his +eldest son to watch; but about twelve o'clock he fell asleep, and in +the morning another of the apples was missing. Then the second son was +ordered to watch; and at midnight he too fell asleep, and in the morning +another apple was gone. Then the third son offered to keep watch; but +the gardener at first would not let him, for fear some harm should come +to him: however, at last he consented, and the young man laid himself +under the tree to watch. As the clock struck twelve he heard a rustling +noise in the air, and a bird came flying that was of pure gold; and as +it was snapping at one of the apples with its beak, the gardener's son +jumped up and shot an arrow at it. But the arrow did the bird no harm; +only it dropped a golden feather from its tail, and then flew away. +The golden feather was brought to the king in the morning, and all the +council was called together. Everyone agreed that it was worth more than +all the wealth of the kingdom: but the king said, 'One feather is of no +use to me, I must have the whole bird.' + +Then the gardener's eldest son set out and thought to find the golden +bird very easily; and when he had gone but a little way, he came to a +wood, and by the side of the wood he saw a fox sitting; so he took his +bow and made ready to shoot at it. Then the fox said, 'Do not shoot me, +for I will give you good counsel; I know what your business is, and +that you want to find the golden bird. You will reach a village in the +evening; and when you get there, you will see two inns opposite to each +other, one of which is very pleasant and beautiful to look at: go not in +there, but rest for the night in the other, though it may appear to you +to be very poor and mean.' But the son thought to himself, 'What can +such a beast as this know about the matter?' So he shot his arrow at +the fox; but he missed it, and it set up its tail above its back and +ran into the wood. Then he went his way, and in the evening came to +the village where the two inns were; and in one of these were people +singing, and dancing, and feasting; but the other looked very dirty, +and poor. 'I should be very silly,' said he, 'if I went to that shabby +house, and left this charming place'; so he went into the smart house, +and ate and drank at his ease, and forgot the bird, and his country too. + +Time passed on; and as the eldest son did not come back, and no tidings +were heard of him, the second son set out, and the same thing happened +to him. He met the fox, who gave him the good advice: but when he came +to the two inns, his eldest brother was standing at the window where +the merrymaking was, and called to him to come in; and he could not +withstand the temptation, but went in, and forgot the golden bird and +his country in the same manner. + +Time passed on again, and the youngest son too wished to set out into +the wide world to seek for the golden bird; but his father would not +listen to it for a long while, for he was very fond of his son, and +was afraid that some ill luck might happen to him also, and prevent his +coming back. However, at last it was agreed he should go, for he would +not rest at home; and as he came to the wood, he met the fox, and heard +the same good counsel. But he was thankful to the fox, and did not +attempt his life as his brothers had done; so the fox said, 'Sit upon my +tail, and you will travel faster.' So he sat down, and the fox began to +run, and away they went over stock and stone so quick that their hair +whistled in the wind. + +When they came to the village, the son followed the fox's counsel, and +without looking about him went to the shabby inn and rested there all +night at his ease. In the morning came the fox again and met him as he +was beginning his journey, and said, 'Go straight forward, till you come +to a castle, before which lie a whole troop of soldiers fast asleep and +snoring: take no notice of them, but go into the castle and pass on and +on till you come to a room, where the golden bird sits in a wooden cage; +close by it stands a beautiful golden cage; but do not try to take the +bird out of the shabby cage and put it into the handsome one, otherwise +you will repent it.' Then the fox stretched out his tail again, and the +young man sat himself down, and away they went over stock and stone till +their hair whistled in the wind. + +Before the castle gate all was as the fox had said: so the son went in +and found the chamber where the golden bird hung in a wooden cage, and +below stood the golden cage, and the three golden apples that had been +lost were lying close by it. Then thought he to himself, 'It will be a +very droll thing to bring away such a fine bird in this shabby cage'; so +he opened the door and took hold of it and put it into the golden cage. +But the bird set up such a loud scream that all the soldiers awoke, and +they took him prisoner and carried him before the king. The next morning +the court sat to judge him; and when all was heard, it sentenced him to +die, unless he should bring the king the golden horse which could run as +swiftly as the wind; and if he did this, he was to have the golden bird +given him for his own. + +So he set out once more on his journey, sighing, and in great despair, +when on a sudden his friend the fox met him, and said, 'You see now +what has happened on account of your not listening to my counsel. I will +still, however, tell you how to find the golden horse, if you will do as +I bid you. You must go straight on till you come to the castle where the +horse stands in his stall: by his side will lie the groom fast asleep +and snoring: take away the horse quietly, but be sure to put the old +leathern saddle upon him, and not the golden one that is close by it.' +Then the son sat down on the fox's tail, and away they went over stock +and stone till their hair whistled in the wind. + +All went right, and the groom lay snoring with his hand upon the golden +saddle. But when the son looked at the horse, he thought it a great pity +to put the leathern saddle upon it. 'I will give him the good one,' +said he; 'I am sure he deserves it.' As he took up the golden saddle the +groom awoke and cried out so loud, that all the guards ran in and took +him prisoner, and in the morning he was again brought before the court +to be judged, and was sentenced to die. But it was agreed, that, if he +could bring thither the beautiful princess, he should live, and have the +bird and the horse given him for his own. + +Then he went his way very sorrowful; but the old fox came and said, 'Why +did not you listen to me? If you had, you would have carried away +both the bird and the horse; yet will I once more give you counsel. Go +straight on, and in the evening you will arrive at a castle. At twelve +o'clock at night the princess goes to the bathing-house: go up to her +and give her a kiss, and she will let you lead her away; but take care +you do not suffer her to go and take leave of her father and mother.' +Then the fox stretched out his tail, and so away they went over stock +and stone till their hair whistled again. + +As they came to the castle, all was as the fox had said, and at twelve +o'clock the young man met the princess going to the bath and gave her the +kiss, and she agreed to run away with him, but begged with many tears +that he would let her take leave of her father. At first he refused, +but she wept still more and more, and fell at his feet, till at last +he consented; but the moment she came to her father's house the guards +awoke and he was taken prisoner again. + +Then he was brought before the king, and the king said, 'You shall never +have my daughter unless in eight days you dig away the hill that stops +the view from my window.' Now this hill was so big that the whole world +could not take it away: and when he had worked for seven days, and had +done very little, the fox came and said. 'Lie down and go to sleep; I +will work for you.' And in the morning he awoke and the hill was gone; +so he went merrily to the king, and told him that now that it was +removed he must give him the princess. + +Then the king was obliged to keep his word, and away went the young man +and the princess; and the fox came and said to him, 'We will have all +three, the princess, the horse, and the bird.' 'Ah!' said the young man, +'that would be a great thing, but how can you contrive it?' + +'If you will only listen,' said the fox, 'it can be done. When you come +to the king, and he asks for the beautiful princess, you must say, "Here +she is!" Then he will be very joyful; and you will mount the golden +horse that they are to give you, and put out your hand to take leave of +them; but shake hands with the princess last. Then lift her quickly on +to the horse behind you; clap your spurs to his side, and gallop away as +fast as you can.' + +All went right: then the fox said, 'When you come to the castle where +the bird is, I will stay with the princess at the door, and you will +ride in and speak to the king; and when he sees that it is the right +horse, he will bring out the bird; but you must sit still, and say that +you want to look at it, to see whether it is the true golden bird; and +when you get it into your hand, ride away.' + +This, too, happened as the fox said; they carried off the bird, the +princess mounted again, and they rode on to a great wood. Then the fox +came, and said, 'Pray kill me, and cut off my head and my feet.' But the +young man refused to do it: so the fox said, 'I will at any rate give +you good counsel: beware of two things; ransom no one from the gallows, +and sit down by the side of no river.' Then away he went. 'Well,' +thought the young man, 'it is no hard matter to keep that advice.' + +He rode on with the princess, till at last he came to the village where +he had left his two brothers. And there he heard a great noise and +uproar; and when he asked what was the matter, the people said, 'Two men +are going to be hanged.' As he came nearer, he saw that the two men were +his brothers, who had turned robbers; so he said, 'Cannot they in any +way be saved?' But the people said 'No,' unless he would bestow all his +money upon the rascals and buy their liberty. Then he did not stay to +think about the matter, but paid what was asked, and his brothers were +given up, and went on with him towards their home. + +And as they came to the wood where the fox first met them, it was so +cool and pleasant that the two brothers said, 'Let us sit down by the +side of the river, and rest a while, to eat and drink.' So he said, +'Yes,' and forgot the fox's counsel, and sat down on the side of the +river; and while he suspected nothing, they came behind, and threw him +down the bank, and took the princess, the horse, and the bird, and went +home to the king their master, and said. 'All this have we won by our +labour.' Then there was great rejoicing made; but the horse would not +eat, the bird would not sing, and the princess wept. + +The youngest son fell to the bottom of the river's bed: luckily it was +nearly dry, but his bones were almost broken, and the bank was so steep +that he could find no way to get out. Then the old fox came once more, +and scolded him for not following his advice; otherwise no evil would +have befallen him: 'Yet,' said he, 'I cannot leave you here, so lay hold +of my tail and hold fast.' Then he pulled him out of the river, and said +to him, as he got upon the bank, 'Your brothers have set watch to kill +you, if they find you in the kingdom.' So he dressed himself as a poor +man, and came secretly to the king's court, and was scarcely within the +doors when the horse began to eat, and the bird to sing, and the princess +left off weeping. Then he went to the king, and told him all his +brothers' roguery; and they were seized and punished, and he had the +princess given to him again; and after the king's death he was heir to +his kingdom. + +A long while after, he went to walk one day in the wood, and the old fox +met him, and besought him with tears in his eyes to kill him, and cut +off his head and feet. And at last he did so, and in a moment the +fox was changed into a man, and turned out to be the brother of the +princess, who had been lost a great many many years. + + + + +HANS IN LUCK + +Some men are born to good luck: all they do or try to do comes +right--all that falls to them is so much gain--all their geese are +swans--all their cards are trumps--toss them which way you will, they +will always, like poor puss, alight upon their legs, and only move on so +much the faster. The world may very likely not always think of them as +they think of themselves, but what care they for the world? what can it +know about the matter? + +One of these lucky beings was neighbour Hans. Seven long years he had +worked hard for his master. At last he said, 'Master, my time is up; I +must go home and see my poor mother once more: so pray pay me my wages +and let me go.' And the master said, 'You have been a faithful and good +servant, Hans, so your pay shall be handsome.' Then he gave him a lump +of silver as big as his head. + +Hans took out his pocket-handkerchief, put the piece of silver into it, +threw it over his shoulder, and jogged off on his road homewards. As he +went lazily on, dragging one foot after another, a man came in sight, +trotting gaily along on a capital horse. 'Ah!' said Hans aloud, 'what a +fine thing it is to ride on horseback! There he sits as easy and happy +as if he was at home, in the chair by his fireside; he trips against no +stones, saves shoe-leather, and gets on he hardly knows how.' Hans did +not speak so softly but the horseman heard it all, and said, 'Well, +friend, why do you go on foot then?' 'Ah!' said he, 'I have this load to +carry: to be sure it is silver, but it is so heavy that I can't hold up +my head, and you must know it hurts my shoulder sadly.' 'What do you say +of making an exchange?' said the horseman. 'I will give you my horse, +and you shall give me the silver; which will save you a great deal of +trouble in carrying such a heavy load about with you.' 'With all my +heart,' said Hans: 'but as you are so kind to me, I must tell you one +thing--you will have a weary task to draw that silver about with you.' +However, the horseman got off, took the silver, helped Hans up, gave him +the bridle into one hand and the whip into the other, and said, 'When +you want to go very fast, smack your lips loudly together, and cry +"Jip!"' + +Hans was delighted as he sat on the horse, drew himself up, squared his +elbows, turned out his toes, cracked his whip, and rode merrily off, one +minute whistling a merry tune, and another singing, + + 'No care and no sorrow, + A fig for the morrow! + We'll laugh and be merry, + Sing neigh down derry!' + +After a time he thought he should like to go a little faster, so he +smacked his lips and cried 'Jip!' Away went the horse full gallop; and +before Hans knew what he was about, he was thrown off, and lay on his +back by the road-side. His horse would have ran off, if a shepherd who +was coming by, driving a cow, had not stopped it. Hans soon came to +himself, and got upon his legs again, sadly vexed, and said to the +shepherd, 'This riding is no joke, when a man has the luck to get upon +a beast like this that stumbles and flings him off as if it would break +his neck. However, I'm off now once for all: I like your cow now a great +deal better than this smart beast that played me this trick, and has +spoiled my best coat, you see, in this puddle; which, by the by, smells +not very like a nosegay. One can walk along at one's leisure behind that +cow--keep good company, and have milk, butter, and cheese, every day, +into the bargain. What would I give to have such a prize!' 'Well,' said +the shepherd, 'if you are so fond of her, I will change my cow for your +horse; I like to do good to my neighbours, even though I lose by it +myself.' 'Done!' said Hans, merrily. 'What a noble heart that good man +has!' thought he. Then the shepherd jumped upon the horse, wished Hans +and the cow good morning, and away he rode. + +Hans brushed his coat, wiped his face and hands, rested a while, and +then drove off his cow quietly, and thought his bargain a very lucky +one. 'If I have only a piece of bread (and I certainly shall always be +able to get that), I can, whenever I like, eat my butter and cheese with +it; and when I am thirsty I can milk my cow and drink the milk: and what +can I wish for more?' When he came to an inn, he halted, ate up all his +bread, and gave away his last penny for a glass of beer. When he had +rested himself he set off again, driving his cow towards his mother's +village. But the heat grew greater as soon as noon came on, till at +last, as he found himself on a wide heath that would take him more than +an hour to cross, he began to be so hot and parched that his tongue +clave to the roof of his mouth. 'I can find a cure for this,' thought +he; 'now I will milk my cow and quench my thirst': so he tied her to the +stump of a tree, and held his leathern cap to milk into; but not a drop +was to be had. Who would have thought that this cow, which was to bring +him milk and butter and cheese, was all that time utterly dry? Hans had +not thought of looking to that. + +While he was trying his luck in milking, and managing the matter very +clumsily, the uneasy beast began to think him very troublesome; and at +last gave him such a kick on the head as knocked him down; and there he +lay a long while senseless. Luckily a butcher soon came by, driving a +pig in a wheelbarrow. 'What is the matter with you, my man?' said the +butcher, as he helped him up. Hans told him what had happened, how he +was dry, and wanted to milk his cow, but found the cow was dry too. Then +the butcher gave him a flask of ale, saying, 'There, drink and refresh +yourself; your cow will give you no milk: don't you see she is an old +beast, good for nothing but the slaughter-house?' 'Alas, alas!' said +Hans, 'who would have thought it? What a shame to take my horse, and +give me only a dry cow! If I kill her, what will she be good for? I hate +cow-beef; it is not tender enough for me. If it were a pig now--like +that fat gentleman you are driving along at his ease--one could do +something with it; it would at any rate make sausages.' 'Well,' said +the butcher, 'I don't like to say no, when one is asked to do a kind, +neighbourly thing. To please you I will change, and give you my fine fat +pig for the cow.' 'Heaven reward you for your kindness and self-denial!' +said Hans, as he gave the butcher the cow; and taking the pig off the +wheel-barrow, drove it away, holding it by the string that was tied to +its leg. + +So on he jogged, and all seemed now to go right with him: he had met +with some misfortunes, to be sure; but he was now well repaid for all. +How could it be otherwise with such a travelling companion as he had at +last got? + +The next man he met was a countryman carrying a fine white goose. The +countryman stopped to ask what was o'clock; this led to further chat; +and Hans told him all his luck, how he had so many good bargains, and +how all the world went gay and smiling with him. The countryman then +began to tell his tale, and said he was going to take the goose to a +christening. 'Feel,' said he, 'how heavy it is, and yet it is only eight +weeks old. Whoever roasts and eats it will find plenty of fat upon it, +it has lived so well!' 'You're right,' said Hans, as he weighed it in +his hand; 'but if you talk of fat, my pig is no trifle.' Meantime the +countryman began to look grave, and shook his head. 'Hark ye!' said he, +'my worthy friend, you seem a good sort of fellow, so I can't help doing +you a kind turn. Your pig may get you into a scrape. In the village I +just came from, the squire has had a pig stolen out of his sty. I was +dreadfully afraid when I saw you that you had got the squire's pig. If +you have, and they catch you, it will be a bad job for you. The least +they will do will be to throw you into the horse-pond. Can you swim?' + +Poor Hans was sadly frightened. 'Good man,' cried he, 'pray get me out +of this scrape. I know nothing of where the pig was either bred or born; +but he may have been the squire's for aught I can tell: you know this +country better than I do, take my pig and give me the goose.' 'I ought +to have something into the bargain,' said the countryman; 'give a fat +goose for a pig, indeed! 'Tis not everyone would do so much for you as +that. However, I will not be hard upon you, as you are in trouble.' Then +he took the string in his hand, and drove off the pig by a side path; +while Hans went on the way homewards free from care. 'After all,' +thought he, 'that chap is pretty well taken in. I don't care whose pig +it is, but wherever it came from it has been a very good friend to me. I +have much the best of the bargain. First there will be a capital roast; +then the fat will find me in goose-grease for six months; and then there +are all the beautiful white feathers. I will put them into my pillow, +and then I am sure I shall sleep soundly without rocking. How happy my +mother will be! Talk of a pig, indeed! Give me a fine fat goose.' + +As he came to the next village, he saw a scissor-grinder with his wheel, +working and singing, + + 'O'er hill and o'er dale + So happy I roam, + Work light and live well, + All the world is my home; + Then who so blythe, so merry as I?' + +Hans stood looking on for a while, and at last said, 'You must be well +off, master grinder! you seem so happy at your work.' 'Yes,' said the +other, 'mine is a golden trade; a good grinder never puts his hand +into his pocket without finding money in it--but where did you get that +beautiful goose?' 'I did not buy it, I gave a pig for it.' 'And where +did you get the pig?' 'I gave a cow for it.' 'And the cow?' 'I gave a +horse for it.' 'And the horse?' 'I gave a lump of silver as big as my +head for it.' 'And the silver?' 'Oh! I worked hard for that seven long +years.' 'You have thriven well in the world hitherto,' said the grinder, +'now if you could find money in your pocket whenever you put your hand +in it, your fortune would be made.' 'Very true: but how is that to be +managed?' 'How? Why, you must turn grinder like myself,' said the other; +'you only want a grindstone; the rest will come of itself. Here is one +that is but little the worse for wear: I would not ask more than the +value of your goose for it--will you buy?' 'How can you ask?' said +Hans; 'I should be the happiest man in the world, if I could have money +whenever I put my hand in my pocket: what could I want more? there's +the goose.' 'Now,' said the grinder, as he gave him a common rough stone +that lay by his side, 'this is a most capital stone; do but work it well +enough, and you can make an old nail cut with it.' + +Hans took the stone, and went his way with a light heart: his eyes +sparkled for joy, and he said to himself, 'Surely I must have been born +in a lucky hour; everything I could want or wish for comes of itself. +People are so kind; they seem really to think I do them a favour in +letting them make me rich, and giving me good bargains.' + +Meantime he began to be tired, and hungry too, for he had given away his +last penny in his joy at getting the cow. + +At last he could go no farther, for the stone tired him sadly: and he +dragged himself to the side of a river, that he might take a drink of +water, and rest a while. So he laid the stone carefully by his side on +the bank: but, as he stooped down to drink, he forgot it, pushed it a +little, and down it rolled, plump into the stream. + +For a while he watched it sinking in the deep clear water; then sprang +up and danced for joy, and again fell upon his knees and thanked Heaven, +with tears in his eyes, for its kindness in taking away his only plague, +the ugly heavy stone. + +'How happy am I!' cried he; 'nobody was ever so lucky as I.' Then up he +got with a light heart, free from all his troubles, and walked on till +he reached his mother's house, and told her how very easy the road to +good luck was. + + + + +JORINDA AND JORINDEL + +There was once an old castle, that stood in the middle of a deep gloomy +wood, and in the castle lived an old fairy. Now this fairy could take +any shape she pleased. All the day long she flew about in the form of +an owl, or crept about the country like a cat; but at night she always +became an old woman again. When any young man came within a hundred +paces of her castle, he became quite fixed, and could not move a step +till she came and set him free; which she would not do till he had given +her his word never to come there again: but when any pretty maiden came +within that space she was changed into a bird, and the fairy put her +into a cage, and hung her up in a chamber in the castle. There were +seven hundred of these cages hanging in the castle, and all with +beautiful birds in them. + +Now there was once a maiden whose name was Jorinda. She was prettier +than all the pretty girls that ever were seen before, and a shepherd +lad, whose name was Jorindel, was very fond of her, and they were soon +to be married. One day they went to walk in the wood, that they might be +alone; and Jorindel said, 'We must take care that we don't go too near +to the fairy's castle.' It was a beautiful evening; the last rays of the +setting sun shone bright through the long stems of the trees upon +the green underwood beneath, and the turtle-doves sang from the tall +birches. + +Jorinda sat down to gaze upon the sun; Jorindel sat by her side; and +both felt sad, they knew not why; but it seemed as if they were to be +parted from one another for ever. They had wandered a long way; and when +they looked to see which way they should go home, they found themselves +at a loss to know what path to take. + +The sun was setting fast, and already half of its circle had sunk behind +the hill: Jorindel on a sudden looked behind him, and saw through the +bushes that they had, without knowing it, sat down close under the old +walls of the castle. Then he shrank for fear, turned pale, and trembled. +Jorinda was just singing, + + 'The ring-dove sang from the willow spray, + Well-a-day! Well-a-day! + He mourn'd for the fate of his darling mate, + Well-a-day!' + +when her song stopped suddenly. Jorindel turned to see the reason, and +beheld his Jorinda changed into a nightingale, so that her song ended +with a mournful _jug, jug_. An owl with fiery eyes flew three times +round them, and three times screamed: + + 'Tu whu! Tu whu! Tu whu!' + +Jorindel could not move; he stood fixed as a stone, and could neither +weep, nor speak, nor stir hand or foot. And now the sun went quite down; +the gloomy night came; the owl flew into a bush; and a moment after the +old fairy came forth pale and meagre, with staring eyes, and a nose and +chin that almost met one another. + +She mumbled something to herself, seized the nightingale, and went away +with it in her hand. Poor Jorindel saw the nightingale was gone--but +what could he do? He could not speak, he could not move from the spot +where he stood. At last the fairy came back and sang with a hoarse +voice: + + 'Till the prisoner is fast, + And her doom is cast, + There stay! Oh, stay! + When the charm is around her, + And the spell has bound her, + Hie away! away!' + +On a sudden Jorindel found himself free. Then he fell on his knees +before the fairy, and prayed her to give him back his dear Jorinda: but +she laughed at him, and said he should never see her again; then she +went her way. + +He prayed, he wept, he sorrowed, but all in vain. 'Alas!' he said, 'what +will become of me?' He could not go back to his own home, so he went to +a strange village, and employed himself in keeping sheep. Many a time +did he walk round and round as near to the hated castle as he dared go, +but all in vain; he heard or saw nothing of Jorinda. + +At last he dreamt one night that he found a beautiful purple flower, +and that in the middle of it lay a costly pearl; and he dreamt that he +plucked the flower, and went with it in his hand into the castle, and +that everything he touched with it was disenchanted, and that there he +found his Jorinda again. + +In the morning when he awoke, he began to search over hill and dale for +this pretty flower; and eight long days he sought for it in vain: but +on the ninth day, early in the morning, he found the beautiful purple +flower; and in the middle of it was a large dewdrop, as big as a costly +pearl. Then he plucked the flower, and set out and travelled day and +night, till he came again to the castle. + +He walked nearer than a hundred paces to it, and yet he did not become +fixed as before, but found that he could go quite close up to the door. +Jorindel was very glad indeed to see this. Then he touched the door with +the flower, and it sprang open; so that he went in through the court, +and listened when he heard so many birds singing. At last he came to the +chamber where the fairy sat, with the seven hundred birds singing in +the seven hundred cages. When she saw Jorindel she was very angry, and +screamed with rage; but she could not come within two yards of him, for +the flower he held in his hand was his safeguard. He looked around at +the birds, but alas! there were many, many nightingales, and how then +should he find out which was his Jorinda? While he was thinking what to +do, he saw the fairy had taken down one of the cages, and was making the +best of her way off through the door. He ran or flew after her, touched +the cage with the flower, and Jorinda stood before him, and threw her +arms round his neck looking as beautiful as ever, as beautiful as when +they walked together in the wood. + +Then he touched all the other birds with the flower, so that they all +took their old forms again; and he took Jorinda home, where they were +married, and lived happily together many years: and so did a good many +other lads, whose maidens had been forced to sing in the old fairy's +cages by themselves, much longer than they liked. + + + + +THE TRAVELLING MUSICIANS + +An honest farmer had once an ass that had been a faithful servant to him +a great many years, but was now growing old and every day more and more +unfit for work. His master therefore was tired of keeping him and +began to think of putting an end to him; but the ass, who saw that some +mischief was in the wind, took himself slyly off, and began his journey +towards the great city, 'For there,' thought he, 'I may turn musician.' + +After he had travelled a little way, he spied a dog lying by the +roadside and panting as if he were tired. 'What makes you pant so, my +friend?' said the ass. 'Alas!' said the dog, 'my master was going to +knock me on the head, because I am old and weak, and can no longer make +myself useful to him in hunting; so I ran away; but what can I do to +earn my livelihood?' 'Hark ye!' said the ass, 'I am going to the great +city to turn musician: suppose you go with me, and try what you can +do in the same way?' The dog said he was willing, and they jogged on +together. + +They had not gone far before they saw a cat sitting in the middle of the +road and making a most rueful face. 'Pray, my good lady,' said the ass, +'what's the matter with you? You look quite out of spirits!' 'Ah, me!' +said the cat, 'how can one be in good spirits when one's life is in +danger? Because I am beginning to grow old, and had rather lie at my +ease by the fire than run about the house after the mice, my mistress +laid hold of me, and was going to drown me; and though I have been lucky +enough to get away from her, I do not know what I am to live upon.' +'Oh,' said the ass, 'by all means go with us to the great city; you are +a good night singer, and may make your fortune as a musician.' The cat +was pleased with the thought, and joined the party. + +Soon afterwards, as they were passing by a farmyard, they saw a cock +perched upon a gate, and screaming out with all his might and main. +'Bravo!' said the ass; 'upon my word, you make a famous noise; pray what +is all this about?' 'Why,' said the cock, 'I was just now saying that +we should have fine weather for our washing-day, and yet my mistress and +the cook don't thank me for my pains, but threaten to cut off my +head tomorrow, and make broth of me for the guests that are coming +on Sunday!' 'Heaven forbid!' said the ass, 'come with us Master +Chanticleer; it will be better, at any rate, than staying here to have +your head cut off! Besides, who knows? If we care to sing in tune, we +may get up some kind of a concert; so come along with us.' 'With all my +heart,' said the cock: so they all four went on jollily together. + +They could not, however, reach the great city the first day; so when +night came on, they went into a wood to sleep. The ass and the dog laid +themselves down under a great tree, and the cat climbed up into the +branches; while the cock, thinking that the higher he sat the safer he +should be, flew up to the very top of the tree, and then, according to +his custom, before he went to sleep, looked out on all sides of him to +see that everything was well. In doing this, he saw afar off something +bright and shining and calling to his companions said, 'There must be a +house no great way off, for I see a light.' 'If that be the case,' said +the ass, 'we had better change our quarters, for our lodging is not the +best in the world!' 'Besides,' added the dog, 'I should not be the +worse for a bone or two, or a bit of meat.' So they walked off together +towards the spot where Chanticleer had seen the light, and as they drew +near it became larger and brighter, till they at last came close to a +house in which a gang of robbers lived. + +The ass, being the tallest of the company, marched up to the window and +peeped in. 'Well, Donkey,' said Chanticleer, 'what do you see?' 'What +do I see?' replied the ass. 'Why, I see a table spread with all kinds of +good things, and robbers sitting round it making merry.' 'That would +be a noble lodging for us,' said the cock. 'Yes,' said the ass, 'if we +could only get in'; so they consulted together how they should contrive +to get the robbers out; and at last they hit upon a plan. The ass placed +himself upright on his hind legs, with his forefeet resting against the +window; the dog got upon his back; the cat scrambled up to the dog's +shoulders, and the cock flew up and sat upon the cat's head. When +all was ready a signal was given, and they began their music. The ass +brayed, the dog barked, the cat mewed, and the cock screamed; and then +they all broke through the window at once, and came tumbling into +the room, amongst the broken glass, with a most hideous clatter! The +robbers, who had been not a little frightened by the opening concert, +had now no doubt that some frightful hobgoblin had broken in upon them, +and scampered away as fast as they could. + +The coast once clear, our travellers soon sat down and dispatched what +the robbers had left, with as much eagerness as if they had not expected +to eat again for a month. As soon as they had satisfied themselves, they +put out the lights, and each once more sought out a resting-place to +his own liking. The donkey laid himself down upon a heap of straw in +the yard, the dog stretched himself upon a mat behind the door, the +cat rolled herself up on the hearth before the warm ashes, and the +cock perched upon a beam on the top of the house; and, as they were all +rather tired with their journey, they soon fell asleep. + +But about midnight, when the robbers saw from afar that the lights were +out and that all seemed quiet, they began to think that they had been in +too great a hurry to run away; and one of them, who was bolder than +the rest, went to see what was going on. Finding everything still, he +marched into the kitchen, and groped about till he found a match in +order to light a candle; and then, espying the glittering fiery eyes of +the cat, he mistook them for live coals, and held the match to them to +light it. But the cat, not understanding this joke, sprang at his face, +and spat, and scratched at him. This frightened him dreadfully, and away +he ran to the back door; but there the dog jumped up and bit him in the +leg; and as he was crossing over the yard the ass kicked him; and the +cock, who had been awakened by the noise, crowed with all his might. At +this the robber ran back as fast as he could to his comrades, and told +the captain how a horrid witch had got into the house, and had spat at +him and scratched his face with her long bony fingers; how a man with a +knife in his hand had hidden himself behind the door, and stabbed him +in the leg; how a black monster stood in the yard and struck him with a +club, and how the devil had sat upon the top of the house and cried out, +'Throw the rascal up here!' After this the robbers never dared to go +back to the house; but the musicians were so pleased with their quarters +that they took up their abode there; and there they are, I dare say, at +this very day. + + + + +OLD SULTAN + +A shepherd had a faithful dog, called Sultan, who was grown very old, +and had lost all his teeth. And one day when the shepherd and his wife +were standing together before the house the shepherd said, 'I will shoot +old Sultan tomorrow morning, for he is of no use now.' But his wife +said, 'Pray let the poor faithful creature live; he has served us well a +great many years, and we ought to give him a livelihood for the rest of +his days.' 'But what can we do with him?' said the shepherd, 'he has not +a tooth in his head, and the thieves don't care for him at all; to +be sure he has served us, but then he did it to earn his livelihood; +tomorrow shall be his last day, depend upon it.' + +Poor Sultan, who was lying close by them, heard all that the shepherd +and his wife said to one another, and was very much frightened to think +tomorrow would be his last day; so in the evening he went to his good +friend the wolf, who lived in the wood, and told him all his sorrows, +and how his master meant to kill him in the morning. 'Make yourself +easy,' said the wolf, 'I will give you some good advice. Your master, +you know, goes out every morning very early with his wife into the +field; and they take their little child with them, and lay it down +behind the hedge in the shade while they are at work. Now do you lie +down close by the child, and pretend to be watching it, and I will come +out of the wood and run away with it; you must run after me as fast as +you can, and I will let it drop; then you may carry it back, and they +will think you have saved their child, and will be so thankful to you +that they will take care of you as long as you live.' The dog liked this +plan very well; and accordingly so it was managed. The wolf ran with the +child a little way; the shepherd and his wife screamed out; but Sultan +soon overtook him, and carried the poor little thing back to his master +and mistress. Then the shepherd patted him on the head, and said, 'Old +Sultan has saved our child from the wolf, and therefore he shall live +and be well taken care of, and have plenty to eat. Wife, go home, and +give him a good dinner, and let him have my old cushion to sleep on +as long as he lives.' So from this time forward Sultan had all that he +could wish for. + +Soon afterwards the wolf came and wished him joy, and said, 'Now, my +good fellow, you must tell no tales, but turn your head the other way +when I want to taste one of the old shepherd's fine fat sheep.' 'No,' +said the Sultan; 'I will be true to my master.' However, the wolf +thought he was in joke, and came one night to get a dainty morsel. But +Sultan had told his master what the wolf meant to do; so he laid wait +for him behind the barn door, and when the wolf was busy looking out for +a good fat sheep, he had a stout cudgel laid about his back, that combed +his locks for him finely. + +Then the wolf was very angry, and called Sultan 'an old rogue,' and +swore he would have his revenge. So the next morning the wolf sent the +boar to challenge Sultan to come into the wood to fight the matter. Now +Sultan had nobody he could ask to be his second but the shepherd's old +three-legged cat; so he took her with him, and as the poor thing limped +along with some trouble, she stuck up her tail straight in the air. + +The wolf and the wild boar were first on the ground; and when they +espied their enemies coming, and saw the cat's long tail standing +straight in the air, they thought she was carrying a sword for Sultan to +fight with; and every time she limped, they thought she was picking up +a stone to throw at them; so they said they should not like this way of +fighting, and the boar lay down behind a bush, and the wolf jumped +up into a tree. Sultan and the cat soon came up, and looked about and +wondered that no one was there. The boar, however, had not quite hidden +himself, for his ears stuck out of the bush; and when he shook one of +them a little, the cat, seeing something move, and thinking it was a +mouse, sprang upon it, and bit and scratched it, so that the boar jumped +up and grunted, and ran away, roaring out, 'Look up in the tree, there +sits the one who is to blame.' So they looked up, and espied the wolf +sitting amongst the branches; and they called him a cowardly rascal, +and would not suffer him to come down till he was heartily ashamed of +himself, and had promised to be good friends again with old Sultan. + + + + +THE STRAW, THE COAL, AND THE BEAN + +In a village dwelt a poor old woman, who had gathered together a dish +of beans and wanted to cook them. So she made a fire on her hearth, and +that it might burn the quicker, she lighted it with a handful of straw. +When she was emptying the beans into the pan, one dropped without her +observing it, and lay on the ground beside a straw, and soon afterwards +a burning coal from the fire leapt down to the two. Then the straw +began and said: 'Dear friends, from whence do you come here?' The coal +replied: 'I fortunately sprang out of the fire, and if I had not escaped +by sheer force, my death would have been certain,--I should have been +burnt to ashes.' The bean said: 'I too have escaped with a whole skin, +but if the old woman had got me into the pan, I should have been made +into broth without any mercy, like my comrades.' 'And would a better +fate have fallen to my lot?' said the straw. 'The old woman has +destroyed all my brethren in fire and smoke; she seized sixty of them at +once, and took their lives. I luckily slipped through her fingers.' + +'But what are we to do now?' said the coal. + +'I think,' answered the bean, 'that as we have so fortunately escaped +death, we should keep together like good companions, and lest a new +mischance should overtake us here, we should go away together, and +repair to a foreign country.' + +The proposition pleased the two others, and they set out on their way +together. Soon, however, they came to a little brook, and as there was +no bridge or foot-plank, they did not know how they were to get over +it. The straw hit on a good idea, and said: 'I will lay myself straight +across, and then you can walk over on me as on a bridge.' The straw +therefore stretched itself from one bank to the other, and the coal, +who was of an impetuous disposition, tripped quite boldly on to the +newly-built bridge. But when she had reached the middle, and heard the +water rushing beneath her, she was after all, afraid, and stood still, +and ventured no farther. The straw, however, began to burn, broke in +two pieces, and fell into the stream. The coal slipped after her, hissed +when she got into the water, and breathed her last. The bean, who had +prudently stayed behind on the shore, could not but laugh at the event, +was unable to stop, and laughed so heartily that she burst. It would +have been all over with her, likewise, if, by good fortune, a tailor who +was travelling in search of work, had not sat down to rest by the brook. +As he had a compassionate heart he pulled out his needle and thread, +and sewed her together. The bean thanked him most prettily, but as the +tailor used black thread, all beans since then have a black seam. + + + + +BRIAR ROSE + +A king and queen once upon a time reigned in a country a great way off, +where there were in those days fairies. Now this king and queen had +plenty of money, and plenty of fine clothes to wear, and plenty of +good things to eat and drink, and a coach to ride out in every day: but +though they had been married many years they had no children, and this +grieved them very much indeed. But one day as the queen was walking +by the side of the river, at the bottom of the garden, she saw a poor +little fish, that had thrown itself out of the water, and lay gasping +and nearly dead on the bank. Then the queen took pity on the little +fish, and threw it back again into the river; and before it swam away +it lifted its head out of the water and said, 'I know what your wish is, +and it shall be fulfilled, in return for your kindness to me--you will +soon have a daughter.' What the little fish had foretold soon came to +pass; and the queen had a little girl, so very beautiful that the king +could not cease looking on it for joy, and said he would hold a great +feast and make merry, and show the child to all the land. So he asked +his kinsmen, and nobles, and friends, and neighbours. But the queen +said, 'I will have the fairies also, that they might be kind and good +to our little daughter.' Now there were thirteen fairies in the kingdom; +but as the king and queen had only twelve golden dishes for them to eat +out of, they were forced to leave one of the fairies without asking her. +So twelve fairies came, each with a high red cap on her head, and red +shoes with high heels on her feet, and a long white wand in her hand: +and after the feast was over they gathered round in a ring and gave all +their best gifts to the little princess. One gave her goodness, another +beauty, another riches, and so on till she had all that was good in the +world. + +Just as eleven of them had done blessing her, a great noise was heard in +the courtyard, and word was brought that the thirteenth fairy was +come, with a black cap on her head, and black shoes on her feet, and a +broomstick in her hand: and presently up she came into the dining-hall. +Now, as she had not been asked to the feast she was very angry, and +scolded the king and queen very much, and set to work to take her +revenge. So she cried out, 'The king's daughter shall, in her fifteenth +year, be wounded by a spindle, and fall down dead.' Then the twelfth of +the friendly fairies, who had not yet given her gift, came forward, and +said that the evil wish must be fulfilled, but that she could soften its +mischief; so her gift was, that the king's daughter, when the spindle +wounded her, should not really die, but should only fall asleep for a +hundred years. + +However, the king hoped still to save his dear child altogether from +the threatened evil; so he ordered that all the spindles in the kingdom +should be bought up and burnt. But all the gifts of the first eleven +fairies were in the meantime fulfilled; for the princess was so +beautiful, and well behaved, and good, and wise, that everyone who knew +her loved her. + +It happened that, on the very day she was fifteen years old, the king +and queen were not at home, and she was left alone in the palace. So she +roved about by herself, and looked at all the rooms and chambers, till +at last she came to an old tower, to which there was a narrow staircase +ending with a little door. In the door there was a golden key, and when +she turned it the door sprang open, and there sat an old lady spinning +away very busily. 'Why, how now, good mother,' said the princess; 'what +are you doing there?' 'Spinning,' said the old lady, and nodded her +head, humming a tune, while buzz! went the wheel. 'How prettily that +little thing turns round!' said the princess, and took the spindle +and began to try and spin. But scarcely had she touched it, before the +fairy's prophecy was fulfilled; the spindle wounded her, and she fell +down lifeless on the ground. + +However, she was not dead, but had only fallen into a deep sleep; and +the king and the queen, who had just come home, and all their court, +fell asleep too; and the horses slept in the stables, and the dogs in +the court, the pigeons on the house-top, and the very flies slept upon +the walls. Even the fire on the hearth left off blazing, and went to +sleep; the jack stopped, and the spit that was turning about with a +goose upon it for the king's dinner stood still; and the cook, who was +at that moment pulling the kitchen-boy by the hair to give him a box +on the ear for something he had done amiss, let him go, and both fell +asleep; the butler, who was slyly tasting the ale, fell asleep with the +jug at his lips: and thus everything stood still, and slept soundly. + +A large hedge of thorns soon grew round the palace, and every year it +became higher and thicker; till at last the old palace was surrounded +and hidden, so that not even the roof or the chimneys could be seen. But +there went a report through all the land of the beautiful sleeping Briar +Rose (for so the king's daughter was called): so that, from time to +time, several kings' sons came, and tried to break through the thicket +into the palace. This, however, none of them could ever do; for the +thorns and bushes laid hold of them, as it were with hands; and there +they stuck fast, and died wretchedly. + +After many, many years there came a king's son into that land: and an +old man told him the story of the thicket of thorns; and how a beautiful +palace stood behind it, and how a wonderful princess, called Briar Rose, +lay in it asleep, with all her court. He told, too, how he had heard +from his grandfather that many, many princes had come, and had tried to +break through the thicket, but that they had all stuck fast in it, and +died. Then the young prince said, 'All this shall not frighten me; I +will go and see this Briar Rose.' The old man tried to hinder him, but +he was bent upon going. + +Now that very day the hundred years were ended; and as the prince came +to the thicket he saw nothing but beautiful flowering shrubs, through +which he went with ease, and they shut in after him as thick as ever. +Then he came at last to the palace, and there in the court lay the dogs +asleep; and the horses were standing in the stables; and on the roof sat +the pigeons fast asleep, with their heads under their wings. And when he +came into the palace, the flies were sleeping on the walls; the spit +was standing still; the butler had the jug of ale at his lips, going +to drink a draught; the maid sat with a fowl in her lap ready to be +plucked; and the cook in the kitchen was still holding up her hand, as +if she was going to beat the boy. + +Then he went on still farther, and all was so still that he could hear +every breath he drew; till at last he came to the old tower, and opened +the door of the little room in which Briar Rose was; and there she lay, +fast asleep on a couch by the window. She looked so beautiful that he +could not take his eyes off her, so he stooped down and gave her a kiss. +But the moment he kissed her she opened her eyes and awoke, and smiled +upon him; and they went out together; and soon the king and queen also +awoke, and all the court, and gazed on each other with great wonder. +And the horses shook themselves, and the dogs jumped up and barked; the +pigeons took their heads from under their wings, and looked about and +flew into the fields; the flies on the walls buzzed again; the fire in +the kitchen blazed up; round went the jack, and round went the spit, +with the goose for the king's dinner upon it; the butler finished his +draught of ale; the maid went on plucking the fowl; and the cook gave +the boy the box on his ear. + +And then the prince and Briar Rose were married, and the wedding feast +was given; and they lived happily together all their lives long. + + + + +THE DOG AND THE SPARROW + +A shepherd's dog had a master who took no care of him, but often let him +suffer the greatest hunger. At last he could bear it no longer; so he +took to his heels, and off he ran in a very sad and sorrowful mood. +On the road he met a sparrow that said to him, 'Why are you so sad, +my friend?' 'Because,' said the dog, 'I am very very hungry, and have +nothing to eat.' 'If that be all,' answered the sparrow, 'come with me +into the next town, and I will soon find you plenty of food.' So on they +went together into the town: and as they passed by a butcher's shop, +the sparrow said to the dog, 'Stand there a little while till I peck you +down a piece of meat.' So the sparrow perched upon the shelf: and having +first looked carefully about her to see if anyone was watching her, she +pecked and scratched at a steak that lay upon the edge of the shelf, +till at last down it fell. Then the dog snapped it up, and scrambled +away with it into a corner, where he soon ate it all up. 'Well,' said +the sparrow, 'you shall have some more if you will; so come with me to +the next shop, and I will peck you down another steak.' When the dog had +eaten this too, the sparrow said to him, 'Well, my good friend, have you +had enough now?' 'I have had plenty of meat,' answered he, 'but I should +like to have a piece of bread to eat after it.' 'Come with me then,' +said the sparrow, 'and you shall soon have that too.' So she took him +to a baker's shop, and pecked at two rolls that lay in the window, till +they fell down: and as the dog still wished for more, she took him to +another shop and pecked down some more for him. When that was eaten, the +sparrow asked him whether he had had enough now. 'Yes,' said he; 'and +now let us take a walk a little way out of the town.' So they both went +out upon the high road; but as the weather was warm, they had not gone +far before the dog said, 'I am very much tired--I should like to take a +nap.' 'Very well,' answered the sparrow, 'do so, and in the meantime +I will perch upon that bush.' So the dog stretched himself out on the +road, and fell fast asleep. Whilst he slept, there came by a carter with +a cart drawn by three horses, and loaded with two casks of wine. The +sparrow, seeing that the carter did not turn out of the way, but would +go on in the track in which the dog lay, so as to drive over him, called +out, 'Stop! stop! Mr Carter, or it shall be the worse for you.' But the +carter, grumbling to himself, 'You make it the worse for me, indeed! +what can you do?' cracked his whip, and drove his cart over the poor +dog, so that the wheels crushed him to death. 'There,' cried the +sparrow, 'thou cruel villain, thou hast killed my friend the dog. Now +mind what I say. This deed of thine shall cost thee all thou art worth.' +'Do your worst, and welcome,' said the brute, 'what harm can you do me?' +and passed on. But the sparrow crept under the tilt of the cart, and +pecked at the bung of one of the casks till she loosened it; and then +all the wine ran out, without the carter seeing it. At last he looked +round, and saw that the cart was dripping, and the cask quite empty. +'What an unlucky wretch I am!' cried he. 'Not wretch enough yet!' said +the sparrow, as she alighted upon the head of one of the horses, and +pecked at him till he reared up and kicked. When the carter saw this, +he drew out his hatchet and aimed a blow at the sparrow, meaning to kill +her; but she flew away, and the blow fell upon the poor horse's head +with such force, that he fell down dead. 'Unlucky wretch that I am!' +cried he. 'Not wretch enough yet!' said the sparrow. And as the carter +went on with the other two horses, she again crept under the tilt of the +cart, and pecked out the bung of the second cask, so that all the wine +ran out. When the carter saw this, he again cried out, 'Miserable wretch +that I am!' But the sparrow answered, 'Not wretch enough yet!' and +perched on the head of the second horse, and pecked at him too. The +carter ran up and struck at her again with his hatchet; but away she +flew, and the blow fell upon the second horse and killed him on the +spot. 'Unlucky wretch that I am!' said he. 'Not wretch enough yet!' said +the sparrow; and perching upon the third horse, she began to peck him +too. The carter was mad with fury; and without looking about him, or +caring what he was about, struck again at the sparrow; but killed his +third horse as he done the other two. 'Alas! miserable wretch that I +am!' cried he. 'Not wretch enough yet!' answered the sparrow as she flew +away; 'now will I plague and punish thee at thy own house.' The +carter was forced at last to leave his cart behind him, and to go home +overflowing with rage and vexation. 'Alas!' said he to his wife, 'what +ill luck has befallen me!--my wine is all spilt, and my horses all three +dead.' 'Alas! husband,' replied she, 'and a wicked bird has come into +the house, and has brought with her all the birds in the world, I am +sure, and they have fallen upon our corn in the loft, and are eating it +up at such a rate!' Away ran the husband upstairs, and saw thousands of +birds sitting upon the floor eating up his corn, with the sparrow in the +midst of them. 'Unlucky wretch that I am!' cried the carter; for he saw +that the corn was almost all gone. 'Not wretch enough yet!' said the +sparrow; 'thy cruelty shall cost thee thy life yet!' and away she flew. + +The carter seeing that he had thus lost all that he had, went down +into his kitchen; and was still not sorry for what he had done, but sat +himself angrily and sulkily in the chimney corner. But the sparrow sat +on the outside of the window, and cried 'Carter! thy cruelty shall cost +thee thy life!' With that he jumped up in a rage, seized his hatchet, +and threw it at the sparrow; but it missed her, and only broke the +window. The sparrow now hopped in, perched upon the window-seat, and +cried, 'Carter! it shall cost thee thy life!' Then he became mad and +blind with rage, and struck the window-seat with such force that he +cleft it in two: and as the sparrow flew from place to place, the carter +and his wife were so furious, that they broke all their furniture, +glasses, chairs, benches, the table, and at last the walls, without +touching the bird at all. In the end, however, they caught her: and the +wife said, 'Shall I kill her at once?' 'No,' cried he, 'that is letting +her off too easily: she shall die a much more cruel death; I will eat +her.' But the sparrow began to flutter about, and stretch out her neck +and cried, 'Carter! it shall cost thee thy life yet!' With that he +could wait no longer: so he gave his wife the hatchet, and cried, 'Wife, +strike at the bird and kill her in my hand.' And the wife struck; but +she missed her aim, and hit her husband on the head so that he fell down +dead, and the sparrow flew quietly home to her nest. + + + + +THE TWELVE DANCING PRINCESSES + +There was a king who had twelve beautiful daughters. They slept in +twelve beds all in one room; and when they went to bed, the doors were +shut and locked up; but every morning their shoes were found to be quite +worn through as if they had been danced in all night; and yet nobody +could find out how it happened, or where they had been. + +Then the king made it known to all the land, that if any person could +discover the secret, and find out where it was that the princesses +danced in the night, he should have the one he liked best for his +wife, and should be king after his death; but whoever tried and did not +succeed, after three days and nights, should be put to death. + +A king's son soon came. He was well entertained, and in the evening was +taken to the chamber next to the one where the princesses lay in their +twelve beds. There he was to sit and watch where they went to dance; +and, in order that nothing might pass without his hearing it, the door +of his chamber was left open. But the king's son soon fell asleep; and +when he awoke in the morning he found that the princesses had all been +dancing, for the soles of their shoes were full of holes. The same thing +happened the second and third night: so the king ordered his head to be +cut off. After him came several others; but they had all the same luck, +and all lost their lives in the same manner. + +Now it chanced that an old soldier, who had been wounded in battle +and could fight no longer, passed through the country where this king +reigned: and as he was travelling through a wood, he met an old woman, +who asked him where he was going. 'I hardly know where I am going, or +what I had better do,' said the soldier; 'but I think I should like very +well to find out where it is that the princesses dance, and then in time +I might be a king.' 'Well,' said the old dame, 'that is no very hard +task: only take care not to drink any of the wine which one of the +princesses will bring to you in the evening; and as soon as she leaves +you pretend to be fast asleep.' + +Then she gave him a cloak, and said, 'As soon as you put that on +you will become invisible, and you will then be able to follow the +princesses wherever they go.' When the soldier heard all this good +counsel, he determined to try his luck: so he went to the king, and said +he was willing to undertake the task. + +He was as well received as the others had been, and the king ordered +fine royal robes to be given him; and when the evening came he was led +to the outer chamber. Just as he was going to lie down, the eldest of +the princesses brought him a cup of wine; but the soldier threw it all +away secretly, taking care not to drink a drop. Then he laid himself +down on his bed, and in a little while began to snore very loud as if +he was fast asleep. When the twelve princesses heard this they laughed +heartily; and the eldest said, 'This fellow too might have done a wiser +thing than lose his life in this way!' Then they rose up and opened +their drawers and boxes, and took out all their fine clothes, and +dressed themselves at the glass, and skipped about as if they were eager +to begin dancing. But the youngest said, 'I don't know how it is, while +you are so happy I feel very uneasy; I am sure some mischance will +befall us.' 'You simpleton,' said the eldest, 'you are always afraid; +have you forgotten how many kings' sons have already watched in vain? +And as for this soldier, even if I had not given him his sleeping +draught, he would have slept soundly enough.' + +When they were all ready, they went and looked at the soldier; but he +snored on, and did not stir hand or foot: so they thought they were +quite safe; and the eldest went up to her own bed and clapped her hands, +and the bed sank into the floor and a trap-door flew open. The soldier +saw them going down through the trap-door one after another, the eldest +leading the way; and thinking he had no time to lose, he jumped up, put +on the cloak which the old woman had given him, and followed them; +but in the middle of the stairs he trod on the gown of the youngest +princess, and she cried out to her sisters, 'All is not right; someone +took hold of my gown.' 'You silly creature!' said the eldest, 'it is +nothing but a nail in the wall.' Then down they all went, and at the +bottom they found themselves in a most delightful grove of trees; and +the leaves were all of silver, and glittered and sparkled beautifully. +The soldier wished to take away some token of the place; so he broke +off a little branch, and there came a loud noise from the tree. Then the +youngest daughter said again, 'I am sure all is not right--did not you +hear that noise? That never happened before.' But the eldest said, 'It +is only our princes, who are shouting for joy at our approach.' + +Then they came to another grove of trees, where all the leaves were of +gold; and afterwards to a third, where the leaves were all glittering +diamonds. And the soldier broke a branch from each; and every time there +was a loud noise, which made the youngest sister tremble with fear; but +the eldest still said, it was only the princes, who were crying for joy. +So they went on till they came to a great lake; and at the side of the +lake there lay twelve little boats with twelve handsome princes in them, +who seemed to be waiting there for the princesses. + +One of the princesses went into each boat, and the soldier stepped into +the same boat with the youngest. As they were rowing over the lake, the +prince who was in the boat with the youngest princess and the soldier +said, 'I do not know why it is, but though I am rowing with all my might +we do not get on so fast as usual, and I am quite tired: the boat +seems very heavy today.' 'It is only the heat of the weather,' said the +princess: 'I feel it very warm too.' + +On the other side of the lake stood a fine illuminated castle, from +which came the merry music of horns and trumpets. There they all landed, +and went into the castle, and each prince danced with his princess; and +the soldier, who was all the time invisible, danced with them too; and +when any of the princesses had a cup of wine set by her, he drank it +all up, so that when she put the cup to her mouth it was empty. At this, +too, the youngest sister was terribly frightened, but the eldest always +silenced her. They danced on till three o'clock in the morning, and then +all their shoes were worn out, so that they were obliged to leave off. +The princes rowed them back again over the lake (but this time the +soldier placed himself in the boat with the eldest princess); and on the +opposite shore they took leave of each other, the princesses promising +to come again the next night. + +When they came to the stairs, the soldier ran on before the princesses, +and laid himself down; and as the twelve sisters slowly came up very +much tired, they heard him snoring in his bed; so they said, 'Now all +is quite safe'; then they undressed themselves, put away their fine +clothes, pulled off their shoes, and went to bed. In the morning the +soldier said nothing about what had happened, but determined to see more +of this strange adventure, and went again the second and third night; +and every thing happened just as before; the princesses danced each time +till their shoes were worn to pieces, and then returned home. However, +on the third night the soldier carried away one of the golden cups as a +token of where he had been. + +As soon as the time came when he was to declare the secret, he was taken +before the king with the three branches and the golden cup; and the +twelve princesses stood listening behind the door to hear what he would +say. And when the king asked him. 'Where do my twelve daughters dance at +night?' he answered, 'With twelve princes in a castle under ground.' And +then he told the king all that had happened, and showed him the three +branches and the golden cup which he had brought with him. Then the king +called for the princesses, and asked them whether what the soldier said +was true: and when they saw that they were discovered, and that it was +of no use to deny what had happened, they confessed it all. And the king +asked the soldier which of them he would choose for his wife; and he +answered, 'I am not very young, so I will have the eldest.'--And they +were married that very day, and the soldier was chosen to be the king's +heir. + + + + +THE FISHERMAN AND HIS WIFE + +There was once a fisherman who lived with his wife in a pigsty, close +by the seaside. The fisherman used to go out all day long a-fishing; and +one day, as he sat on the shore with his rod, looking at the sparkling +waves and watching his line, all on a sudden his float was dragged away +deep into the water: and in drawing it up he pulled out a great fish. +But the fish said, 'Pray let me live! I am not a real fish; I am an +enchanted prince: put me in the water again, and let me go!' 'Oh, ho!' +said the man, 'you need not make so many words about the matter; I will +have nothing to do with a fish that can talk: so swim away, sir, as soon +as you please!' Then he put him back into the water, and the fish darted +straight down to the bottom, and left a long streak of blood behind him +on the wave. + +When the fisherman went home to his wife in the pigsty, he told her how +he had caught a great fish, and how it had told him it was an enchanted +prince, and how, on hearing it speak, he had let it go again. 'Did not +you ask it for anything?' said the wife, 'we live very wretchedly here, +in this nasty dirty pigsty; do go back and tell the fish we want a snug +little cottage.' + +The fisherman did not much like the business: however, he went to the +seashore; and when he came back there the water looked all yellow and +green. And he stood at the water's edge, and said: + + 'O man of the sea! + Hearken to me! + My wife Ilsabill + Will have her own will, + And hath sent me to beg a boon of thee!' + +Then the fish came swimming to him, and said, 'Well, what is her will? +What does your wife want?' 'Ah!' said the fisherman, 'she says that when +I had caught you, I ought to have asked you for something before I let +you go; she does not like living any longer in the pigsty, and wants +a snug little cottage.' 'Go home, then,' said the fish; 'she is in the +cottage already!' So the man went home, and saw his wife standing at the +door of a nice trim little cottage. 'Come in, come in!' said she; 'is +not this much better than the filthy pigsty we had?' And there was a +parlour, and a bedchamber, and a kitchen; and behind the cottage there +was a little garden, planted with all sorts of flowers and fruits; and +there was a courtyard behind, full of ducks and chickens. 'Ah!' said the +fisherman, 'how happily we shall live now!' 'We will try to do so, at +least,' said his wife. + +Everything went right for a week or two, and then Dame Ilsabill said, +'Husband, there is not near room enough for us in this cottage; the +courtyard and the garden are a great deal too small; I should like to +have a large stone castle to live in: go to the fish again and tell him +to give us a castle.' 'Wife,' said the fisherman, 'I don't like to go to +him again, for perhaps he will be angry; we ought to be easy with this +pretty cottage to live in.' 'Nonsense!' said the wife; 'he will do it +very willingly, I know; go along and try!' + +The fisherman went, but his heart was very heavy: and when he came to +the sea, it looked blue and gloomy, though it was very calm; and he went +close to the edge of the waves, and said: + + 'O man of the sea! + Hearken to me! + My wife Ilsabill + Will have her own will, + And hath sent me to beg a boon of thee!' + +'Well, what does she want now?' said the fish. 'Ah!' said the man, +dolefully, 'my wife wants to live in a stone castle.' 'Go home, then,' +said the fish; 'she is standing at the gate of it already.' So away went +the fisherman, and found his wife standing before the gate of a great +castle. 'See,' said she, 'is not this grand?' With that they went into +the castle together, and found a great many servants there, and the +rooms all richly furnished, and full of golden chairs and tables; and +behind the castle was a garden, and around it was a park half a +mile long, full of sheep, and goats, and hares, and deer; and in the +courtyard were stables and cow-houses. 'Well,' said the man, 'now we +will live cheerful and happy in this beautiful castle for the rest of +our lives.' 'Perhaps we may,' said the wife; 'but let us sleep upon it, +before we make up our minds to that.' So they went to bed. + +The next morning when Dame Ilsabill awoke it was broad daylight, and +she jogged the fisherman with her elbow, and said, 'Get up, husband, +and bestir yourself, for we must be king of all the land.' 'Wife, wife,' +said the man, 'why should we wish to be the king? I will not be king.' +'Then I will,' said she. 'But, wife,' said the fisherman, 'how can you +be king--the fish cannot make you a king?' 'Husband,' said she, 'say +no more about it, but go and try! I will be king.' So the man went away +quite sorrowful to think that his wife should want to be king. This time +the sea looked a dark grey colour, and was overspread with curling waves +and the ridges of foam as he cried out: + + 'O man of the sea! + Hearken to me! + My wife Ilsabill + Will have her own will, + And hath sent me to beg a boon of thee!' + +'Well, what would she have now?' said the fish. 'Alas!' said the poor +man, 'my wife wants to be king.' 'Go home,' said the fish; 'she is king +already.' + +Then the fisherman went home; and as he came close to the palace he saw +a troop of soldiers, and heard the sound of drums and trumpets. And when +he went in he saw his wife sitting on a throne of gold and diamonds, +with a golden crown upon her head; and on each side of her stood six +fair maidens, each a head taller than the other. 'Well, wife,' said the +fisherman, 'are you king?' 'Yes,' said she, 'I am king.' And when he had +looked at her for a long time, he said, 'Ah, wife! what a fine thing it +is to be king! Now we shall never have anything more to wish for as long +as we live.' 'I don't know how that may be,' said she; 'never is a long +time. I am king, it is true; but I begin to be tired of that, and I +think I should like to be emperor.' 'Alas, wife! why should you wish to +be emperor?' said the fisherman. 'Husband,' said she, 'go to the fish! +I say I will be emperor.' 'Ah, wife!' replied the fisherman, 'the fish +cannot make an emperor, I am sure, and I should not like to ask him for +such a thing.' 'I am king,' said Ilsabill, 'and you are my slave; so go +at once!' + +So the fisherman was forced to go; and he muttered as he went along, +'This will come to no good, it is too much to ask; the fish will be +tired at last, and then we shall be sorry for what we have done.' He +soon came to the seashore; and the water was quite black and muddy, and +a mighty whirlwind blew over the waves and rolled them about, but he +went as near as he could to the water's brink, and said: + + 'O man of the sea! + Hearken to me! + My wife Ilsabill + Will have her own will, + And hath sent me to beg a boon of thee!' + +'What would she have now?' said the fish. 'Ah!' said the fisherman, +'she wants to be emperor.' 'Go home,' said the fish; 'she is emperor +already.' + +So he went home again; and as he came near he saw his wife Ilsabill +sitting on a very lofty throne made of solid gold, with a great crown on +her head full two yards high; and on each side of her stood her guards +and attendants in a row, each one smaller than the other, from the +tallest giant down to a little dwarf no bigger than my finger. And +before her stood princes, and dukes, and earls: and the fisherman went +up to her and said, 'Wife, are you emperor?' 'Yes,' said she, 'I am +emperor.' 'Ah!' said the man, as he gazed upon her, 'what a fine thing +it is to be emperor!' 'Husband,' said she, 'why should we stop at being +emperor? I will be pope next.' 'O wife, wife!' said he, 'how can you be +pope? there is but one pope at a time in Christendom.' 'Husband,' said +she, 'I will be pope this very day.' 'But,' replied the husband, 'the +fish cannot make you pope.' 'What nonsense!' said she; 'if he can make +an emperor, he can make a pope: go and try him.' + +So the fisherman went. But when he came to the shore the wind was raging +and the sea was tossed up and down in boiling waves, and the ships were +in trouble, and rolled fearfully upon the tops of the billows. In the +middle of the heavens there was a little piece of blue sky, but towards +the south all was red, as if a dreadful storm was rising. At this sight +the fisherman was dreadfully frightened, and he trembled so that his +knees knocked together: but still he went down near to the shore, and +said: + + 'O man of the sea! + Hearken to me! + My wife Ilsabill + Will have her own will, + And hath sent me to beg a boon of thee!' + +'What does she want now?' said the fish. 'Ah!' said the fisherman, 'my +wife wants to be pope.' 'Go home,' said the fish; 'she is pope already.' + +Then the fisherman went home, and found Ilsabill sitting on a throne +that was two miles high. And she had three great crowns on her head, and +around her stood all the pomp and power of the Church. And on each side +of her were two rows of burning lights, of all sizes, the greatest as +large as the highest and biggest tower in the world, and the least no +larger than a small rushlight. 'Wife,' said the fisherman, as he looked +at all this greatness, 'are you pope?' 'Yes,' said she, 'I am pope.' +'Well, wife,' replied he, 'it is a grand thing to be pope; and now +you must be easy, for you can be nothing greater.' 'I will think about +that,' said the wife. Then they went to bed: but Dame Ilsabill could not +sleep all night for thinking what she should be next. At last, as she +was dropping asleep, morning broke, and the sun rose. 'Ha!' thought she, +as she woke up and looked at it through the window, 'after all I cannot +prevent the sun rising.' At this thought she was very angry, and wakened +her husband, and said, 'Husband, go to the fish and tell him I must +be lord of the sun and moon.' The fisherman was half asleep, but the +thought frightened him so much that he started and fell out of bed. +'Alas, wife!' said he, 'cannot you be easy with being pope?' 'No,' +said she, 'I am very uneasy as long as the sun and moon rise without my +leave. Go to the fish at once!' + +Then the man went shivering with fear; and as he was going down to +the shore a dreadful storm arose, so that the trees and the very rocks +shook. And all the heavens became black with stormy clouds, and the +lightnings played, and the thunders rolled; and you might have seen in +the sea great black waves, swelling up like mountains with crowns of +white foam upon their heads. And the fisherman crept towards the sea, +and cried out, as well as he could: + + 'O man of the sea! + Hearken to me! + My wife Ilsabill + Will have her own will, + And hath sent me to beg a boon of thee!' + +'What does she want now?' said the fish. 'Ah!' said he, 'she wants to +be lord of the sun and moon.' 'Go home,' said the fish, 'to your pigsty +again.' + +And there they live to this very day. + + + + +THE WILLOW-WREN AND THE BEAR + +Once in summer-time the bear and the wolf were walking in the forest, +and the bear heard a bird singing so beautifully that he said: 'Brother +wolf, what bird is it that sings so well?' 'That is the King of birds,' +said the wolf, 'before whom we must bow down.' In reality the bird was +the willow-wren. 'IF that's the case,' said the bear, 'I should very +much like to see his royal palace; come, take me thither.' 'That is not +done quite as you seem to think,' said the wolf; 'you must wait until +the Queen comes,' Soon afterwards, the Queen arrived with some food in +her beak, and the lord King came too, and they began to feed their young +ones. The bear would have liked to go at once, but the wolf held him +back by the sleeve, and said: 'No, you must wait until the lord and lady +Queen have gone away again.' So they took stock of the hole where the +nest lay, and trotted away. The bear, however, could not rest until he +had seen the royal palace, and when a short time had passed, went to it +again. The King and Queen had just flown out, so he peeped in and saw +five or six young ones lying there. 'Is that the royal palace?' cried +the bear; 'it is a wretched palace, and you are not King's children, you +are disreputable children!' When the young wrens heard that, they were +frightfully angry, and screamed: 'No, that we are not! Our parents are +honest people! Bear, you will have to pay for that!' + +The bear and the wolf grew uneasy, and turned back and went into their +holes. The young willow-wrens, however, continued to cry and scream, and +when their parents again brought food they said: 'We will not so much as +touch one fly's leg, no, not if we were dying of hunger, until you have +settled whether we are respectable children or not; the bear has been +here and has insulted us!' Then the old King said: 'Be easy, he shall +be punished,' and he at once flew with the Queen to the bear's cave, and +called in: 'Old Growler, why have you insulted my children? You shall +suffer for it--we will punish you by a bloody war.' Thus war was +announced to the Bear, and all four-footed animals were summoned to take +part in it, oxen, asses, cows, deer, and every other animal the earth +contained. And the willow-wren summoned everything which flew in the +air, not only birds, large and small, but midges, and hornets, bees and +flies had to come. + +When the time came for the war to begin, the willow-wren sent out spies +to discover who was the enemy's commander-in-chief. The gnat, who was +the most crafty, flew into the forest where the enemy was assembled, +and hid herself beneath a leaf of the tree where the password was to be +announced. There stood the bear, and he called the fox before him +and said: 'Fox, you are the most cunning of all animals, you shall be +general and lead us.' 'Good,' said the fox, 'but what signal shall we +agree upon?' No one knew that, so the fox said: 'I have a fine long +bushy tail, which almost looks like a plume of red feathers. When I lift +my tail up quite high, all is going well, and you must charge; but if I +let it hang down, run away as fast as you can.' When the gnat had heard +that, she flew away again, and revealed everything, down to the minutest +detail, to the willow-wren. When day broke, and the battle was to begin, +all the four-footed animals came running up with such a noise that the +earth trembled. The willow-wren with his army also came flying through +the air with such a humming, and whirring, and swarming that every one +was uneasy and afraid, and on both sides they advanced against each +other. But the willow-wren sent down the hornet, with orders to settle +beneath the fox's tail, and sting with all his might. When the fox felt +the first string, he started so that he lifted one leg, from pain, but +he bore it, and still kept his tail high in the air; at the second +sting, he was forced to put it down for a moment; at the third, he could +hold out no longer, screamed, and put his tail between his legs. When +the animals saw that, they thought all was lost, and began to flee, each +into his hole, and the birds had won the battle. + +Then the King and Queen flew home to their children and cried: +'Children, rejoice, eat and drink to your heart's content, we have won +the battle!' But the young wrens said: 'We will not eat yet, the bear +must come to the nest, and beg for pardon and say that we are honourable +children, before we will do that.' Then the willow-wren flew to the +bear's hole and cried: 'Growler, you are to come to the nest to my +children, and beg their pardon, or else every rib of your body shall +be broken.' So the bear crept thither in the greatest fear, and begged +their pardon. And now at last the young wrens were satisfied, and sat +down together and ate and drank, and made merry till quite late into the +night. + + + + +THE FROG-PRINCE + +One fine evening a young princess put on her bonnet and clogs, and went +out to take a walk by herself in a wood; and when she came to a cool +spring of water, that rose in the midst of it, she sat herself down +to rest a while. Now she had a golden ball in her hand, which was her +favourite plaything; and she was always tossing it up into the air, and +catching it again as it fell. After a time she threw it up so high that +she missed catching it as it fell; and the ball bounded away, and rolled +along upon the ground, till at last it fell down into the spring. The +princess looked into the spring after her ball, but it was very deep, so +deep that she could not see the bottom of it. Then she began to bewail +her loss, and said, 'Alas! if I could only get my ball again, I would +give all my fine clothes and jewels, and everything that I have in the +world.' + +Whilst she was speaking, a frog put its head out of the water, and said, +'Princess, why do you weep so bitterly?' 'Alas!' said she, 'what can you +do for me, you nasty frog? My golden ball has fallen into the spring.' +The frog said, 'I want not your pearls, and jewels, and fine clothes; +but if you will love me, and let me live with you and eat from off +your golden plate, and sleep upon your bed, I will bring you your ball +again.' 'What nonsense,' thought the princess, 'this silly frog is +talking! He can never even get out of the spring to visit me, though +he may be able to get my ball for me, and therefore I will tell him he +shall have what he asks.' So she said to the frog, 'Well, if you will +bring me my ball, I will do all you ask.' Then the frog put his head +down, and dived deep under the water; and after a little while he came +up again, with the ball in his mouth, and threw it on the edge of the +spring. As soon as the young princess saw her ball, she ran to pick +it up; and she was so overjoyed to have it in her hand again, that she +never thought of the frog, but ran home with it as fast as she could. +The frog called after her, 'Stay, princess, and take me with you as you +said,' But she did not stop to hear a word. + +The next day, just as the princess had sat down to dinner, she heard a +strange noise--tap, tap--plash, plash--as if something was coming up the +marble staircase: and soon afterwards there was a gentle knock at the +door, and a little voice cried out and said: + + 'Open the door, my princess dear, + Open the door to thy true love here! + And mind the words that thou and I said + By the fountain cool, in the greenwood shade.' + +Then the princess ran to the door and opened it, and there she saw +the frog, whom she had quite forgotten. At this sight she was sadly +frightened, and shutting the door as fast as she could came back to her +seat. The king, her father, seeing that something had frightened her, +asked her what was the matter. 'There is a nasty frog,' said she, 'at +the door, that lifted my ball for me out of the spring this morning: I +told him that he should live with me here, thinking that he could never +get out of the spring; but there he is at the door, and he wants to come +in.' + +While she was speaking the frog knocked again at the door, and said: + + 'Open the door, my princess dear, + Open the door to thy true love here! + And mind the words that thou and I said + By the fountain cool, in the greenwood shade.' + +Then the king said to the young princess, 'As you have given your word +you must keep it; so go and let him in.' She did so, and the frog hopped +into the room, and then straight on--tap, tap--plash, plash--from the +bottom of the room to the top, till he came up close to the table where +the princess sat. 'Pray lift me upon chair,' said he to the princess, +'and let me sit next to you.' As soon as she had done this, the frog +said, 'Put your plate nearer to me, that I may eat out of it.' This +she did, and when he had eaten as much as he could, he said, 'Now I am +tired; carry me upstairs, and put me into your bed.' And the princess, +though very unwilling, took him up in her hand, and put him upon the +pillow of her own bed, where he slept all night long. As soon as it was +light he jumped up, hopped downstairs, and went out of the house. +'Now, then,' thought the princess, 'at last he is gone, and I shall be +troubled with him no more.' + +But she was mistaken; for when night came again she heard the same +tapping at the door; and the frog came once more, and said: + + 'Open the door, my princess dear, + Open the door to thy true love here! + And mind the words that thou and I said + By the fountain cool, in the greenwood shade.' + +And when the princess opened the door the frog came in, and slept upon +her pillow as before, till the morning broke. And the third night he did +the same. But when the princess awoke on the following morning she was +astonished to see, instead of the frog, a handsome prince, gazing on her +with the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen, and standing at the head +of her bed. + +He told her that he had been enchanted by a spiteful fairy, who had +changed him into a frog; and that he had been fated so to abide till +some princess should take him out of the spring, and let him eat from +her plate, and sleep upon her bed for three nights. 'You,' said the +prince, 'have broken his cruel charm, and now I have nothing to wish for +but that you should go with me into my father's kingdom, where I will +marry you, and love you as long as you live.' + +The young princess, you may be sure, was not long in saying 'Yes' to +all this; and as they spoke a gay coach drove up, with eight beautiful +horses, decked with plumes of feathers and a golden harness; and behind +the coach rode the prince's servant, faithful Heinrich, who had bewailed +the misfortunes of his dear master during his enchantment so long and so +bitterly, that his heart had well-nigh burst. + +They then took leave of the king, and got into the coach with eight +horses, and all set out, full of joy and merriment, for the prince's +kingdom, which they reached safely; and there they lived happily a great +many years. + + + + +CAT AND MOUSE IN PARTNERSHIP + +A certain cat had made the acquaintance of a mouse, and had said so much +to her about the great love and friendship she felt for her, that at +length the mouse agreed that they should live and keep house together. +'But we must make a provision for winter, or else we shall suffer +from hunger,' said the cat; 'and you, little mouse, cannot venture +everywhere, or you will be caught in a trap some day.' The good advice +was followed, and a pot of fat was bought, but they did not know where +to put it. At length, after much consideration, the cat said: 'I know no +place where it will be better stored up than in the church, for no one +dares take anything away from there. We will set it beneath the altar, +and not touch it until we are really in need of it.' So the pot was +placed in safety, but it was not long before the cat had a great +yearning for it, and said to the mouse: 'I want to tell you something, +little mouse; my cousin has brought a little son into the world, and has +asked me to be godmother; he is white with brown spots, and I am to hold +him over the font at the christening. Let me go out today, and you look +after the house by yourself.' 'Yes, yes,' answered the mouse, 'by all +means go, and if you get anything very good to eat, think of me. I +should like a drop of sweet red christening wine myself.' All this, +however, was untrue; the cat had no cousin, and had not been asked to +be godmother. She went straight to the church, stole to the pot of fat, +began to lick at it, and licked the top of the fat off. Then she took a +walk upon the roofs of the town, looked out for opportunities, and then +stretched herself in the sun, and licked her lips whenever she thought +of the pot of fat, and not until it was evening did she return home. +'Well, here you are again,' said the mouse, 'no doubt you have had a +merry day.' 'All went off well,' answered the cat. 'What name did they +give the child?' 'Top off!' said the cat quite coolly. 'Top off!' cried +the mouse, 'that is a very odd and uncommon name, is it a usual one in +your family?' 'What does that matter,' said the cat, 'it is no worse +than Crumb-stealer, as your godchildren are called.' + +Before long the cat was seized by another fit of yearning. She said to +the mouse: 'You must do me a favour, and once more manage the house for +a day alone. I am again asked to be godmother, and, as the child has a +white ring round its neck, I cannot refuse.' The good mouse consented, +but the cat crept behind the town walls to the church, and devoured +half the pot of fat. 'Nothing ever seems so good as what one keeps to +oneself,' said she, and was quite satisfied with her day's work. When +she went home the mouse inquired: 'And what was the child christened?' +'Half-done,' answered the cat. 'Half-done! What are you saying? I +never heard the name in my life, I'll wager anything it is not in the +calendar!' + +The cat's mouth soon began to water for some more licking. 'All good +things go in threes,' said she, 'I am asked to stand godmother again. +The child is quite black, only it has white paws, but with that +exception, it has not a single white hair on its whole body; this only +happens once every few years, you will let me go, won't you?' 'Top-off! +Half-done!' answered the mouse, 'they are such odd names, they make me +very thoughtful.' 'You sit at home,' said the cat, 'in your dark-grey +fur coat and long tail, and are filled with fancies, that's because +you do not go out in the daytime.' During the cat's absence the mouse +cleaned the house, and put it in order, but the greedy cat entirely +emptied the pot of fat. 'When everything is eaten up one has some +peace,' said she to herself, and well filled and fat she did not return +home till night. The mouse at once asked what name had been given to +the third child. 'It will not please you more than the others,' said the +cat. 'He is called All-gone.' 'All-gone,' cried the mouse 'that is the +most suspicious name of all! I have never seen it in print. All-gone; +what can that mean?' and she shook her head, curled herself up, and lay +down to sleep. + +From this time forth no one invited the cat to be godmother, but +when the winter had come and there was no longer anything to be found +outside, the mouse thought of their provision, and said: 'Come, cat, +we will go to our pot of fat which we have stored up for ourselves--we +shall enjoy that.' 'Yes,' answered the cat, 'you will enjoy it as much +as you would enjoy sticking that dainty tongue of yours out of the +window.' They set out on their way, but when they arrived, the pot of +fat certainly was still in its place, but it was empty. 'Alas!' said the +mouse, 'now I see what has happened, now it comes to light! You are a true +friend! You have devoured all when you were standing godmother. First +top off, then half-done, then--' 'Will you hold your tongue,' cried the +cat, 'one word more, and I will eat you too.' 'All-gone' was already on +the poor mouse's lips; scarcely had she spoken it before the cat sprang +on her, seized her, and swallowed her down. Verily, that is the way of +the world. + + + + +THE GOOSE-GIRL + +The king of a great land died, and left his queen to take care of their +only child. This child was a daughter, who was very beautiful; and her +mother loved her dearly, and was very kind to her. And there was a good +fairy too, who was fond of the princess, and helped her mother to watch +over her. When she grew up, she was betrothed to a prince who lived a +great way off; and as the time drew near for her to be married, she +got ready to set off on her journey to his country. Then the queen her +mother, packed up a great many costly things; jewels, and gold, and +silver; trinkets, fine dresses, and in short everything that became a +royal bride. And she gave her a waiting-maid to ride with her, and give +her into the bridegroom's hands; and each had a horse for the journey. +Now the princess's horse was the fairy's gift, and it was called Falada, +and could speak. + +When the time came for them to set out, the fairy went into her +bed-chamber, and took a little knife, and cut off a lock of her hair, +and gave it to the princess, and said, 'Take care of it, dear child; for +it is a charm that may be of use to you on the road.' Then they all took +a sorrowful leave of the princess; and she put the lock of hair into +her bosom, got upon her horse, and set off on her journey to her +bridegroom's kingdom. + +One day, as they were riding along by a brook, the princess began to +feel very thirsty: and she said to her maid, 'Pray get down, and fetch +me some water in my golden cup out of yonder brook, for I want to +drink.' 'Nay,' said the maid, 'if you are thirsty, get off yourself, and +stoop down by the water and drink; I shall not be your waiting-maid any +longer.' Then she was so thirsty that she got down, and knelt over the +little brook, and drank; for she was frightened, and dared not bring out +her golden cup; and she wept and said, 'Alas! what will become of me?' +And the lock answered her, and said: + + 'Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it, + Sadly, sadly, would she rue it.' + +But the princess was very gentle and meek, so she said nothing to her +maid's ill behaviour, but got upon her horse again. + +Then all rode farther on their journey, till the day grew so warm, and +the sun so scorching, that the bride began to feel very thirsty again; +and at last, when they came to a river, she forgot her maid's rude +speech, and said, 'Pray get down, and fetch me some water to drink in +my golden cup.' But the maid answered her, and even spoke more haughtily +than before: 'Drink if you will, but I shall not be your waiting-maid.' +Then the princess was so thirsty that she got off her horse, and lay +down, and held her head over the running stream, and cried and said, +'What will become of me?' And the lock of hair answered her again: + + 'Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it, + Sadly, sadly, would she rue it.' + +And as she leaned down to drink, the lock of hair fell from her bosom, +and floated away with the water. Now she was so frightened that she did +not see it; but her maid saw it, and was very glad, for she knew the +charm; and she saw that the poor bride would be in her power, now that +she had lost the hair. So when the bride had done drinking, and would +have got upon Falada again, the maid said, 'I shall ride upon Falada, +and you may have my horse instead'; so she was forced to give up her +horse, and soon afterwards to take off her royal clothes and put on her +maid's shabby ones. + +At last, as they drew near the end of their journey, this treacherous +servant threatened to kill her mistress if she ever told anyone what had +happened. But Falada saw it all, and marked it well. + +Then the waiting-maid got upon Falada, and the real bride rode upon the +other horse, and they went on in this way till at last they came to the +royal court. There was great joy at their coming, and the prince flew to +meet them, and lifted the maid from her horse, thinking she was the one +who was to be his wife; and she was led upstairs to the royal chamber; +but the true princess was told to stay in the court below. + +Now the old king happened just then to have nothing else to do; so he +amused himself by sitting at his kitchen window, looking at what was +going on; and he saw her in the courtyard. As she looked very pretty, +and too delicate for a waiting-maid, he went up into the royal chamber +to ask the bride who it was she had brought with her, that was thus left +standing in the court below. 'I brought her with me for the sake of her +company on the road,' said she; 'pray give the girl some work to do, +that she may not be idle.' The old king could not for some time think +of any work for her to do; but at last he said, 'I have a lad who takes +care of my geese; she may go and help him.' Now the name of this lad, +that the real bride was to help in watching the king's geese, was +Curdken. + +But the false bride said to the prince, 'Dear husband, pray do me one +piece of kindness.' 'That I will,' said the prince. 'Then tell one of +your slaughterers to cut off the head of the horse I rode upon, for it +was very unruly, and plagued me sadly on the road'; but the truth was, +she was very much afraid lest Falada should some day or other speak, and +tell all she had done to the princess. She carried her point, and the +faithful Falada was killed; but when the true princess heard of it, she +wept, and begged the man to nail up Falada's head against a large +dark gate of the city, through which she had to pass every morning +and evening, that there she might still see him sometimes. Then the +slaughterer said he would do as she wished; and cut off the head, and +nailed it up under the dark gate. + +Early the next morning, as she and Curdken went out through the gate, +she said sorrowfully: + + 'Falada, Falada, there thou hangest!' + +and the head answered: + + 'Bride, bride, there thou gangest! + Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it, + Sadly, sadly, would she rue it.' + +Then they went out of the city, and drove the geese on. And when she +came to the meadow, she sat down upon a bank there, and let down her +waving locks of hair, which were all of pure silver; and when Curdken +saw it glitter in the sun, he ran up, and would have pulled some of the +locks out, but she cried: + + 'Blow, breezes, blow! + Let Curdken's hat go! + Blow, breezes, blow! + Let him after it go! + O'er hills, dales, and rocks, + Away be it whirl'd + Till the silvery locks + Are all comb'd and curl'd! + +Then there came a wind, so strong that it blew off Curdken's hat; and +away it flew over the hills: and he was forced to turn and run after +it; till, by the time he came back, she had done combing and curling her +hair, and had put it up again safe. Then he was very angry and sulky, +and would not speak to her at all; but they watched the geese until it +grew dark in the evening, and then drove them homewards. + +The next morning, as they were going through the dark gate, the poor +girl looked up at Falada's head, and cried: + + 'Falada, Falada, there thou hangest!' + +and the head answered: + + 'Bride, bride, there thou gangest! + Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it, + Sadly, sadly, would she rue it.' + +Then she drove on the geese, and sat down again in the meadow, and began +to comb out her hair as before; and Curdken ran up to her, and wanted to +take hold of it; but she cried out quickly: + + 'Blow, breezes, blow! + Let Curdken's hat go! + Blow, breezes, blow! + Let him after it go! + O'er hills, dales, and rocks, + Away be it whirl'd + Till the silvery locks + Are all comb'd and curl'd! + +Then the wind came and blew away his hat; and off it flew a great way, +over the hills and far away, so that he had to run after it; and when +he came back she had bound up her hair again, and all was safe. So they +watched the geese till it grew dark. + +In the evening, after they came home, Curdken went to the old king, and +said, 'I cannot have that strange girl to help me to keep the geese any +longer.' 'Why?' said the king. 'Because, instead of doing any good, she +does nothing but tease me all day long.' Then the king made him tell him +what had happened. And Curdken said, 'When we go in the morning through +the dark gate with our flock of geese, she cries and talks with the head +of a horse that hangs upon the wall, and says: + + 'Falada, Falada, there thou hangest!' + +and the head answers: + + 'Bride, bride, there thou gangest! + Alas! alas! if thy mother knew it, + Sadly, sadly, would she rue it.' + +And Curdken went on telling the king what had happened upon the meadow +where the geese fed; how his hat was blown away; and how he was forced +to run after it, and to leave his flock of geese to themselves. But the +old king told the boy to go out again the next day: and when morning +came, he placed himself behind the dark gate, and heard how she spoke +to Falada, and how Falada answered. Then he went into the field, and +hid himself in a bush by the meadow's side; and he soon saw with his own +eyes how they drove the flock of geese; and how, after a little time, +she let down her hair that glittered in the sun. And then he heard her +say: + + 'Blow, breezes, blow! + Let Curdken's hat go! + Blow, breezes, blow! + Let him after it go! + O'er hills, dales, and rocks, + Away be it whirl'd + Till the silvery locks + Are all comb'd and curl'd! + +And soon came a gale of wind, and carried away Curdken's hat, and away +went Curdken after it, while the girl went on combing and curling her +hair. All this the old king saw: so he went home without being seen; and +when the little goose-girl came back in the evening he called her aside, +and asked her why she did so: but she burst into tears, and said, 'That +I must not tell you or any man, or I shall lose my life.' + +But the old king begged so hard, that she had no peace till she had told +him all the tale, from beginning to end, word for word. And it was very +lucky for her that she did so, for when she had done the king ordered +royal clothes to be put upon her, and gazed on her with wonder, she was +so beautiful. Then he called his son and told him that he had only a +false bride; for that she was merely a waiting-maid, while the true +bride stood by. And the young king rejoiced when he saw her beauty, and +heard how meek and patient she had been; and without saying anything to +the false bride, the king ordered a great feast to be got ready for all +his court. The bridegroom sat at the top, with the false princess on one +side, and the true one on the other; but nobody knew her again, for her +beauty was quite dazzling to their eyes; and she did not seem at all +like the little goose-girl, now that she had her brilliant dress on. + +When they had eaten and drank, and were very merry, the old king said +he would tell them a tale. So he began, and told all the story of the +princess, as if it was one that he had once heard; and he asked the +true waiting-maid what she thought ought to be done to anyone who would +behave thus. 'Nothing better,' said this false bride, 'than that she +should be thrown into a cask stuck round with sharp nails, and that +two white horses should be put to it, and should drag it from street to +street till she was dead.' 'Thou art she!' said the old king; 'and as +thou has judged thyself, so shall it be done to thee.' And the young +king was then married to his true wife, and they reigned over the +kingdom in peace and happiness all their lives; and the good fairy came +to see them, and restored the faithful Falada to life again. + + + + +THE ADVENTURES OF CHANTICLEER AND PARTLET + + +1. HOW THEY WENT TO THE MOUNTAINS TO EAT NUTS + +'The nuts are quite ripe now,' said Chanticleer to his wife Partlet, +'suppose we go together to the mountains, and eat as many as we can, +before the squirrel takes them all away.' 'With all my heart,' said +Partlet, 'let us go and make a holiday of it together.' + +So they went to the mountains; and as it was a lovely day, they stayed +there till the evening. Now, whether it was that they had eaten so many +nuts that they could not walk, or whether they were lazy and would not, +I do not know: however, they took it into their heads that it did not +become them to go home on foot. So Chanticleer began to build a little +carriage of nutshells: and when it was finished, Partlet jumped into +it and sat down, and bid Chanticleer harness himself to it and draw her +home. 'That's a good joke!' said Chanticleer; 'no, that will never do; +I had rather by half walk home; I'll sit on the box and be coachman, +if you like, but I'll not draw.' While this was passing, a duck came +quacking up and cried out, 'You thieving vagabonds, what business have +you in my grounds? I'll give it you well for your insolence!' and upon +that she fell upon Chanticleer most lustily. But Chanticleer was no +coward, and returned the duck's blows with his sharp spurs so fiercely +that she soon began to cry out for mercy; which was only granted her +upon condition that she would draw the carriage home for them. This she +agreed to do; and Chanticleer got upon the box, and drove, crying, 'Now, +duck, get on as fast as you can.' And away they went at a pretty good +pace. + +After they had travelled along a little way, they met a needle and a pin +walking together along the road: and the needle cried out, 'Stop, stop!' +and said it was so dark that they could hardly find their way, and such +dirty walking they could not get on at all: he told them that he and his +friend, the pin, had been at a public-house a few miles off, and had sat +drinking till they had forgotten how late it was; he begged therefore +that the travellers would be so kind as to give them a lift in their +carriage. Chanticleer observing that they were but thin fellows, and not +likely to take up much room, told them they might ride, but made them +promise not to dirty the wheels of the carriage in getting in, nor to +tread on Partlet's toes. + +Late at night they arrived at an inn; and as it was bad travelling in +the dark, and the duck seemed much tired, and waddled about a good +deal from one side to the other, they made up their minds to fix their +quarters there: but the landlord at first was unwilling, and said his +house was full, thinking they might not be very respectable company: +however, they spoke civilly to him, and gave him the egg which Partlet +had laid by the way, and said they would give him the duck, who was in +the habit of laying one every day: so at last he let them come in, and +they bespoke a handsome supper, and spent the evening very jollily. + +Early in the morning, before it was quite light, and when nobody was +stirring in the inn, Chanticleer awakened his wife, and, fetching the +egg, they pecked a hole in it, ate it up, and threw the shells into the +fireplace: they then went to the pin and needle, who were fast asleep, +and seizing them by the heads, stuck one into the landlord's easy chair +and the other into his handkerchief; and, having done this, they crept +away as softly as possible. However, the duck, who slept in the open +air in the yard, heard them coming, and jumping into the brook which ran +close by the inn, soon swam out of their reach. + +An hour or two afterwards the landlord got up, and took his handkerchief +to wipe his face, but the pin ran into him and pricked him: then he +walked into the kitchen to light his pipe at the fire, but when he +stirred it up the eggshells flew into his eyes, and almost blinded him. +'Bless me!' said he, 'all the world seems to have a design against my +head this morning': and so saying, he threw himself sulkily into his +easy chair; but, oh dear! the needle ran into him; and this time the +pain was not in his head. He now flew into a very great passion, and, +suspecting the company who had come in the night before, he went to look +after them, but they were all off; so he swore that he never again +would take in such a troop of vagabonds, who ate a great deal, paid no +reckoning, and gave him nothing for his trouble but their apish tricks. + + +2. HOW CHANTICLEER AND PARTLET WENT TO VISIT MR KORBES + +Another day, Chanticleer and Partlet wished to ride out together; +so Chanticleer built a handsome carriage with four red wheels, and +harnessed six mice to it; and then he and Partlet got into the carriage, +and away they drove. Soon afterwards a cat met them, and said, 'Where +are you going?' And Chanticleer replied, + + 'All on our way + A visit to pay + To Mr Korbes, the fox, today.' + +Then the cat said, 'Take me with you,' Chanticleer said, 'With all my +heart: get up behind, and be sure you do not fall off.' + + 'Take care of this handsome coach of mine, + Nor dirty my pretty red wheels so fine! + Now, mice, be ready, + And, wheels, run steady! + For we are going a visit to pay + To Mr Korbes, the fox, today.' + +Soon after came up a millstone, an egg, a duck, and a pin; and +Chanticleer gave them all leave to get into the carriage and go with +them. + +When they arrived at Mr Korbes's house, he was not at home; so the mice +drew the carriage into the coach-house, Chanticleer and Partlet flew +upon a beam, the cat sat down in the fireplace, the duck got into +the washing cistern, the pin stuck himself into the bed pillow, the +millstone laid himself over the house door, and the egg rolled himself +up in the towel. + +When Mr Korbes came home, he went to the fireplace to make a fire; but +the cat threw all the ashes in his eyes: so he ran to the kitchen to +wash himself; but there the duck splashed all the water in his face; and +when he tried to wipe himself, the egg broke to pieces in the towel all +over his face and eyes. Then he was very angry, and went without his +supper to bed; but when he laid his head on the pillow, the pin ran into +his cheek: at this he became quite furious, and, jumping up, would have +run out of the house; but when he came to the door, the millstone fell +down on his head, and killed him on the spot. + + +3. HOW PARTLET DIED AND WAS BURIED, AND HOW CHANTICLEER DIED OF GRIEF + +Another day Chanticleer and Partlet agreed to go again to the mountains +to eat nuts; and it was settled that all the nuts which they found +should be shared equally between them. Now Partlet found a very large +nut; but she said nothing about it to Chanticleer, and kept it all to +herself: however, it was so big that she could not swallow it, and it +stuck in her throat. Then she was in a great fright, and cried out to +Chanticleer, 'Pray run as fast as you can, and fetch me some water, or I +shall be choked.' Chanticleer ran as fast as he could to the river, and +said, 'River, give me some water, for Partlet lies in the mountain, and +will be choked by a great nut.' The river said, 'Run first to the bride, +and ask her for a silken cord to draw up the water.' Chanticleer ran to +the bride, and said, 'Bride, you must give me a silken cord, for then +the river will give me water, and the water I will carry to Partlet, who +lies on the mountain, and will be choked by a great nut.' But the bride +said, 'Run first, and bring me my garland that is hanging on a willow +in the garden.' Then Chanticleer ran to the garden, and took the garland +from the bough where it hung, and brought it to the bride; and then +the bride gave him the silken cord, and he took the silken cord to +the river, and the river gave him water, and he carried the water to +Partlet; but in the meantime she was choked by the great nut, and lay +quite dead, and never moved any more. + +Then Chanticleer was very sorry, and cried bitterly; and all the beasts +came and wept with him over poor Partlet. And six mice built a little +hearse to carry her to her grave; and when it was ready they harnessed +themselves before it, and Chanticleer drove them. On the way they +met the fox. 'Where are you going, Chanticleer?' said he. 'To bury my +Partlet,' said the other. 'May I go with you?' said the fox. 'Yes; but +you must get up behind, or my horses will not be able to draw you.' Then +the fox got up behind; and presently the wolf, the bear, the goat, and +all the beasts of the wood, came and climbed upon the hearse. + +So on they went till they came to a rapid stream. 'How shall we get +over?' said Chanticleer. Then said a straw, 'I will lay myself across, +and you may pass over upon me.' But as the mice were going over, the +straw slipped away and fell into the water, and the six mice all fell in +and were drowned. What was to be done? Then a large log of wood came +and said, 'I am big enough; I will lay myself across the stream, and you +shall pass over upon me.' So he laid himself down; but they managed +so clumsily, that the log of wood fell in and was carried away by the +stream. Then a stone, who saw what had happened, came up and kindly +offered to help poor Chanticleer by laying himself across the stream; +and this time he got safely to the other side with the hearse, and +managed to get Partlet out of it; but the fox and the other mourners, +who were sitting behind, were too heavy, and fell back into the water +and were all carried away by the stream and drowned. + +Thus Chanticleer was left alone with his dead Partlet; and having dug +a grave for her, he laid her in it, and made a little hillock over her. +Then he sat down by the grave, and wept and mourned, till at last he +died too; and so all were dead. + + + + +RAPUNZEL + +There were once a man and a woman who had long in vain wished for a +child. At length the woman hoped that God was about to grant her desire. +These people had a little window at the back of their house from which +a splendid garden could be seen, which was full of the most beautiful +flowers and herbs. It was, however, surrounded by a high wall, and no +one dared to go into it because it belonged to an enchantress, who had +great power and was dreaded by all the world. One day the woman was +standing by this window and looking down into the garden, when she saw a +bed which was planted with the most beautiful rampion (rapunzel), and it +looked so fresh and green that she longed for it, she quite pined away, +and began to look pale and miserable. Then her husband was alarmed, and +asked: 'What ails you, dear wife?' 'Ah,' she replied, 'if I can't eat +some of the rampion, which is in the garden behind our house, I shall +die.' The man, who loved her, thought: 'Sooner than let your wife die, +bring her some of the rampion yourself, let it cost what it will.' +At twilight, he clambered down over the wall into the garden of the +enchantress, hastily clutched a handful of rampion, and took it to his +wife. She at once made herself a salad of it, and ate it greedily. It +tasted so good to her--so very good, that the next day she longed for it +three times as much as before. If he was to have any rest, her husband +must once more descend into the garden. In the gloom of evening +therefore, he let himself down again; but when he had clambered down the +wall he was terribly afraid, for he saw the enchantress standing before +him. 'How can you dare,' said she with angry look, 'descend into my +garden and steal my rampion like a thief? You shall suffer for it!' +'Ah,' answered he, 'let mercy take the place of justice, I only made +up my mind to do it out of necessity. My wife saw your rampion from the +window, and felt such a longing for it that she would have died if she +had not got some to eat.' Then the enchantress allowed her anger to be +softened, and said to him: 'If the case be as you say, I will allow +you to take away with you as much rampion as you will, only I make one +condition, you must give me the child which your wife will bring into +the world; it shall be well treated, and I will care for it like a +mother.' The man in his terror consented to everything, and when the +woman was brought to bed, the enchantress appeared at once, gave the +child the name of Rapunzel, and took it away with her. + +Rapunzel grew into the most beautiful child under the sun. When she was +twelve years old, the enchantress shut her into a tower, which lay in +a forest, and had neither stairs nor door, but quite at the top was a +little window. When the enchantress wanted to go in, she placed herself +beneath it and cried: + + 'Rapunzel, Rapunzel, + Let down your hair to me.' + +Rapunzel had magnificent long hair, fine as spun gold, and when she +heard the voice of the enchantress she unfastened her braided tresses, +wound them round one of the hooks of the window above, and then the hair +fell twenty ells down, and the enchantress climbed up by it. + +After a year or two, it came to pass that the king's son rode through +the forest and passed by the tower. Then he heard a song, which was so +charming that he stood still and listened. This was Rapunzel, who in her +solitude passed her time in letting her sweet voice resound. The king's +son wanted to climb up to her, and looked for the door of the tower, +but none was to be found. He rode home, but the singing had so deeply +touched his heart, that every day he went out into the forest and +listened to it. Once when he was thus standing behind a tree, he saw +that an enchantress came there, and he heard how she cried: + + 'Rapunzel, Rapunzel, + Let down your hair to me.' + +Then Rapunzel let down the braids of her hair, and the enchantress +climbed up to her. 'If that is the ladder by which one mounts, I too +will try my fortune,' said he, and the next day when it began to grow +dark, he went to the tower and cried: + + 'Rapunzel, Rapunzel, + Let down your hair to me.' + +Immediately the hair fell down and the king's son climbed up. + +At first Rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man, such as her eyes +had never yet beheld, came to her; but the king's son began to talk to +her quite like a friend, and told her that his heart had been so stirred +that it had let him have no rest, and he had been forced to see her. +Then Rapunzel lost her fear, and when he asked her if she would take +him for her husband, and she saw that he was young and handsome, she +thought: 'He will love me more than old Dame Gothel does'; and she said +yes, and laid her hand in his. She said: 'I will willingly go away with +you, but I do not know how to get down. Bring with you a skein of silk +every time that you come, and I will weave a ladder with it, and when +that is ready I will descend, and you will take me on your horse.' They +agreed that until that time he should come to her every evening, for the +old woman came by day. The enchantress remarked nothing of this, until +once Rapunzel said to her: 'Tell me, Dame Gothel, how it happens that +you are so much heavier for me to draw up than the young king's son--he +is with me in a moment.' 'Ah! you wicked child,' cried the enchantress. +'What do I hear you say! I thought I had separated you from all +the world, and yet you have deceived me!' In her anger she clutched +Rapunzel's beautiful tresses, wrapped them twice round her left hand, +seized a pair of scissors with the right, and snip, snap, they were cut +off, and the lovely braids lay on the ground. And she was so pitiless +that she took poor Rapunzel into a desert where she had to live in great +grief and misery. + +On the same day that she cast out Rapunzel, however, the enchantress +fastened the braids of hair, which she had cut off, to the hook of the +window, and when the king's son came and cried: + + 'Rapunzel, Rapunzel, + Let down your hair to me.' + +she let the hair down. The king's son ascended, but instead of finding +his dearest Rapunzel, he found the enchantress, who gazed at him with +wicked and venomous looks. 'Aha!' she cried mockingly, 'you would fetch +your dearest, but the beautiful bird sits no longer singing in the nest; +the cat has got it, and will scratch out your eyes as well. Rapunzel is +lost to you; you will never see her again.' The king's son was beside +himself with pain, and in his despair he leapt down from the tower. He +escaped with his life, but the thorns into which he fell pierced his +eyes. Then he wandered quite blind about the forest, ate nothing but +roots and berries, and did naught but lament and weep over the loss of +his dearest wife. Thus he roamed about in misery for some years, and at +length came to the desert where Rapunzel, with the twins to which she +had given birth, a boy and a girl, lived in wretchedness. He heard a +voice, and it seemed so familiar to him that he went towards it, and +when he approached, Rapunzel knew him and fell on his neck and wept. Two +of her tears wetted his eyes and they grew clear again, and he could +see with them as before. He led her to his kingdom where he was +joyfully received, and they lived for a long time afterwards, happy and +contented. + + + + +FUNDEVOGEL + +There was once a forester who went into the forest to hunt, and as +he entered it he heard a sound of screaming as if a little child were +there. He followed the sound, and at last came to a high tree, and at +the top of this a little child was sitting, for the mother had fallen +asleep under the tree with the child, and a bird of prey had seen it in +her arms, had flown down, snatched it away, and set it on the high tree. + +The forester climbed up, brought the child down, and thought to himself: +'You will take him home with you, and bring him up with your Lina.' He +took it home, therefore, and the two children grew up together. And the +one, which he had found on a tree was called Fundevogel, because a bird +had carried it away. Fundevogel and Lina loved each other so dearly that +when they did not see each other they were sad. + +Now the forester had an old cook, who one evening took two pails and +began to fetch water, and did not go once only, but many times, out +to the spring. Lina saw this and said, 'Listen, old Sanna, why are you +fetching so much water?' 'If you will never repeat it to anyone, I will +tell you why.' So Lina said, no, she would never repeat it to anyone, +and then the cook said: 'Early tomorrow morning, when the forester +is out hunting, I will heat the water, and when it is boiling in the +kettle, I will throw in Fundevogel, and will boil him in it.' + +Early next morning the forester got up and went out hunting, and when he +was gone the children were still in bed. Then Lina said to Fundevogel: +'If you will never leave me, I too will never leave you.' Fundevogel +said: 'Neither now, nor ever will I leave you.' Then said Lina: 'Then +will I tell you. Last night, old Sanna carried so many buckets of water +into the house that I asked her why she was doing that, and she said +that if I would promise not to tell anyone, and she said that early +tomorrow morning when father was out hunting, she would set the kettle +full of water, throw you into it and boil you; but we will get up +quickly, dress ourselves, and go away together.' + +The two children therefore got up, dressed themselves quickly, and went +away. When the water in the kettle was boiling, the cook went into the +bedroom to fetch Fundevogel and throw him into it. But when she came in, +and went to the beds, both the children were gone. Then she was terribly +alarmed, and she said to herself: 'What shall I say now when the +forester comes home and sees that the children are gone? They must be +followed instantly to get them back again.' + +Then the cook sent three servants after them, who were to run and +overtake the children. The children, however, were sitting outside the +forest, and when they saw from afar the three servants running, Lina +said to Fundevogel: 'Never leave me, and I will never leave you.' +Fundevogel said: 'Neither now, nor ever.' Then said Lina: 'Do you become +a rose-tree, and I the rose upon it.' When the three servants came to +the forest, nothing was there but a rose-tree and one rose on it, but +the children were nowhere. Then said they: 'There is nothing to be done +here,' and they went home and told the cook that they had seen nothing +in the forest but a little rose-bush with one rose on it. Then the +old cook scolded and said: 'You simpletons, you should have cut the +rose-bush in two, and have broken off the rose and brought it home with +you; go, and do it at once.' They had therefore to go out and look for +the second time. The children, however, saw them coming from a distance. +Then Lina said: 'Fundevogel, never leave me, and I will never leave +you.' Fundevogel said: 'Neither now; nor ever.' Said Lina: 'Then do you +become a church, and I'll be the chandelier in it.' So when the three +servants came, nothing was there but a church, with a chandelier in +it. They said therefore to each other: 'What can we do here, let us go +home.' When they got home, the cook asked if they had not found them; +so they said no, they had found nothing but a church, and there was a +chandelier in it. And the cook scolded them and said: 'You fools! why +did you not pull the church to pieces, and bring the chandelier home +with you?' And now the old cook herself got on her legs, and went with +the three servants in pursuit of the children. The children, however, +saw from afar that the three servants were coming, and the cook waddling +after them. Then said Lina: 'Fundevogel, never leave me, and I will +never leave you.' Then said Fundevogel: 'Neither now, nor ever.' +Said Lina: 'Be a fishpond, and I will be the duck upon it.' The cook, +however, came up to them, and when she saw the pond she lay down by it, +and was about to drink it up. But the duck swam quickly to her, seized +her head in its beak and drew her into the water, and there the old +witch had to drown. Then the children went home together, and were +heartily delighted, and if they have not died, they are living still. + + + + +THE VALIANT LITTLE TAILOR + +One summer's morning a little tailor was sitting on his table by the +window; he was in good spirits, and sewed with all his might. Then came +a peasant woman down the street crying: 'Good jams, cheap! Good jams, +cheap!' This rang pleasantly in the tailor's ears; he stretched his +delicate head out of the window, and called: 'Come up here, dear woman; +here you will get rid of your goods.' The woman came up the three steps +to the tailor with her heavy basket, and he made her unpack all the pots +for him. He inspected each one, lifted it up, put his nose to it, and +at length said: 'The jam seems to me to be good, so weigh me out four +ounces, dear woman, and if it is a quarter of a pound that is of no +consequence.' The woman who had hoped to find a good sale, gave him +what he desired, but went away quite angry and grumbling. 'Now, this jam +shall be blessed by God,' cried the little tailor, 'and give me health +and strength'; so he brought the bread out of the cupboard, cut himself +a piece right across the loaf and spread the jam over it. 'This won't +taste bitter,' said he, 'but I will just finish the jacket before I +take a bite.' He laid the bread near him, sewed on, and in his joy, made +bigger and bigger stitches. In the meantime the smell of the sweet jam +rose to where the flies were sitting in great numbers, and they were +attracted and descended on it in hosts. 'Hi! who invited you?' said the +little tailor, and drove the unbidden guests away. The flies, however, +who understood no German, would not be turned away, but came back +again in ever-increasing companies. The little tailor at last lost all +patience, and drew a piece of cloth from the hole under his work-table, +and saying: 'Wait, and I will give it to you,' struck it mercilessly on +them. When he drew it away and counted, there lay before him no fewer +than seven, dead and with legs stretched out. 'Are you a fellow of that +sort?' said he, and could not help admiring his own bravery. 'The whole +town shall know of this!' And the little tailor hastened to cut himself +a girdle, stitched it, and embroidered on it in large letters: 'Seven at +one stroke!' 'What, the town!' he continued, 'the whole world shall hear +of it!' and his heart wagged with joy like a lamb's tail. The tailor +put on the girdle, and resolved to go forth into the world, because he +thought his workshop was too small for his valour. Before he went away, +he sought about in the house to see if there was anything which he could +take with him; however, he found nothing but an old cheese, and that +he put in his pocket. In front of the door he observed a bird which +had caught itself in the thicket. It had to go into his pocket with the +cheese. Now he took to the road boldly, and as he was light and nimble, +he felt no fatigue. The road led him up a mountain, and when he had +reached the highest point of it, there sat a powerful giant looking +peacefully about him. The little tailor went bravely up, spoke to him, +and said: 'Good day, comrade, so you are sitting there overlooking the +wide-spread world! I am just on my way thither, and want to try my luck. +Have you any inclination to go with me?' The giant looked contemptuously +at the tailor, and said: 'You ragamuffin! You miserable creature!' + +'Oh, indeed?' answered the little tailor, and unbuttoned his coat, and +showed the giant the girdle, 'there may you read what kind of a man I +am!' The giant read: 'Seven at one stroke,' and thought that they had +been men whom the tailor had killed, and began to feel a little respect +for the tiny fellow. Nevertheless, he wished to try him first, and took +a stone in his hand and squeezed it together so that water dropped out +of it. 'Do that likewise,' said the giant, 'if you have strength.' 'Is +that all?' said the tailor, 'that is child's play with us!' and put his +hand into his pocket, brought out the soft cheese, and pressed it until +the liquid ran out of it. 'Faith,' said he, 'that was a little better, +wasn't it?' The giant did not know what to say, and could not believe it +of the little man. Then the giant picked up a stone and threw it so high +that the eye could scarcely follow it. 'Now, little mite of a man, do +that likewise,' 'Well thrown,' said the tailor, 'but after all the stone +came down to earth again; I will throw you one which shall never come +back at all,' and he put his hand into his pocket, took out the bird, +and threw it into the air. The bird, delighted with its liberty, +rose, flew away and did not come back. 'How does that shot please you, +comrade?' asked the tailor. 'You can certainly throw,' said the giant, +'but now we will see if you are able to carry anything properly.' He +took the little tailor to a mighty oak tree which lay there felled on +the ground, and said: 'If you are strong enough, help me to carry the +tree out of the forest.' 'Readily,' answered the little man; 'take you +the trunk on your shoulders, and I will raise up the branches and twigs; +after all, they are the heaviest.' The giant took the trunk on his +shoulder, but the tailor seated himself on a branch, and the giant, who +could not look round, had to carry away the whole tree, and the little +tailor into the bargain: he behind, was quite merry and happy, and +whistled the song: 'Three tailors rode forth from the gate,' as if +carrying the tree were child's play. The giant, after he had dragged the +heavy burden part of the way, could go no further, and cried: 'Hark +you, I shall have to let the tree fall!' The tailor sprang nimbly down, +seized the tree with both arms as if he had been carrying it, and said +to the giant: 'You are such a great fellow, and yet cannot even carry +the tree!' + +They went on together, and as they passed a cherry-tree, the giant laid +hold of the top of the tree where the ripest fruit was hanging, bent it +down, gave it into the tailor's hand, and bade him eat. But the little +tailor was much too weak to hold the tree, and when the giant let it go, +it sprang back again, and the tailor was tossed into the air with it. +When he had fallen down again without injury, the giant said: 'What is +this? Have you not strength enough to hold the weak twig?' 'There is no +lack of strength,' answered the little tailor. 'Do you think that could +be anything to a man who has struck down seven at one blow? I leapt over +the tree because the huntsmen are shooting down there in the thicket. +Jump as I did, if you can do it.' The giant made the attempt but he +could not get over the tree, and remained hanging in the branches, so +that in this also the tailor kept the upper hand. + +The giant said: 'If you are such a valiant fellow, come with me into our +cavern and spend the night with us.' The little tailor was willing, and +followed him. When they went into the cave, other giants were sitting +there by the fire, and each of them had a roasted sheep in his hand and +was eating it. The little tailor looked round and thought: 'It is much +more spacious here than in my workshop.' The giant showed him a bed, and +said he was to lie down in it and sleep. The bed, however, was too +big for the little tailor; he did not lie down in it, but crept into +a corner. When it was midnight, and the giant thought that the little +tailor was lying in a sound sleep, he got up, took a great iron bar, +cut through the bed with one blow, and thought he had finished off the +grasshopper for good. With the earliest dawn the giants went into the +forest, and had quite forgotten the little tailor, when all at once he +walked up to them quite merrily and boldly. The giants were terrified, +they were afraid that he would strike them all dead, and ran away in a +great hurry. + +The little tailor went onwards, always following his own pointed nose. +After he had walked for a long time, he came to the courtyard of a royal +palace, and as he felt weary, he lay down on the grass and fell asleep. +Whilst he lay there, the people came and inspected him on all sides, and +read on his girdle: 'Seven at one stroke.' 'Ah!' said they, 'what does +the great warrior want here in the midst of peace? He must be a mighty +lord.' They went and announced him to the king, and gave it as their +opinion that if war should break out, this would be a weighty and useful +man who ought on no account to be allowed to depart. The counsel pleased +the king, and he sent one of his courtiers to the little tailor to offer +him military service when he awoke. The ambassador remained standing by +the sleeper, waited until he stretched his limbs and opened his eyes, +and then conveyed to him this proposal. 'For this very reason have +I come here,' the tailor replied, 'I am ready to enter the king's +service.' He was therefore honourably received, and a special dwelling +was assigned him. + +The soldiers, however, were set against the little tailor, and wished +him a thousand miles away. 'What is to be the end of this?' they said +among themselves. 'If we quarrel with him, and he strikes about him, +seven of us will fall at every blow; not one of us can stand against +him.' They came therefore to a decision, betook themselves in a body to +the king, and begged for their dismissal. 'We are not prepared,' said +they, 'to stay with a man who kills seven at one stroke.' The king was +sorry that for the sake of one he should lose all his faithful servants, +wished that he had never set eyes on the tailor, and would willingly +have been rid of him again. But he did not venture to give him his +dismissal, for he dreaded lest he should strike him and all his people +dead, and place himself on the royal throne. He thought about it for a +long time, and at last found good counsel. He sent to the little tailor +and caused him to be informed that as he was a great warrior, he had one +request to make to him. In a forest of his country lived two giants, +who caused great mischief with their robbing, murdering, ravaging, +and burning, and no one could approach them without putting himself in +danger of death. If the tailor conquered and killed these two giants, he +would give him his only daughter to wife, and half of his kingdom as a +dowry, likewise one hundred horsemen should go with him to assist him. +'That would indeed be a fine thing for a man like me!' thought the +little tailor. 'One is not offered a beautiful princess and half a +kingdom every day of one's life!' 'Oh, yes,' he replied, 'I will soon +subdue the giants, and do not require the help of the hundred horsemen +to do it; he who can hit seven with one blow has no need to be afraid of +two.' + +The little tailor went forth, and the hundred horsemen followed him. +When he came to the outskirts of the forest, he said to his followers: +'Just stay waiting here, I alone will soon finish off the giants.' Then +he bounded into the forest and looked about right and left. After a +while he perceived both giants. They lay sleeping under a tree, and +snored so that the branches waved up and down. The little tailor, not +idle, gathered two pocketsful of stones, and with these climbed up the +tree. When he was halfway up, he slipped down by a branch, until he sat +just above the sleepers, and then let one stone after another fall on +the breast of one of the giants. For a long time the giant felt nothing, +but at last he awoke, pushed his comrade, and said: 'Why are you +knocking me?' 'You must be dreaming,' said the other, 'I am not knocking +you.' They laid themselves down to sleep again, and then the tailor +threw a stone down on the second. 'What is the meaning of this?' cried +the other 'Why are you pelting me?' 'I am not pelting you,' answered +the first, growling. They disputed about it for a time, but as they were +weary they let the matter rest, and their eyes closed once more. The +little tailor began his game again, picked out the biggest stone, and +threw it with all his might on the breast of the first giant. 'That +is too bad!' cried he, and sprang up like a madman, and pushed his +companion against the tree until it shook. The other paid him back in +the same coin, and they got into such a rage that they tore up trees and +belaboured each other so long, that at last they both fell down dead on +the ground at the same time. Then the little tailor leapt down. 'It is +a lucky thing,' said he, 'that they did not tear up the tree on which +I was sitting, or I should have had to sprint on to another like a +squirrel; but we tailors are nimble.' He drew out his sword and gave +each of them a couple of thrusts in the breast, and then went out to the +horsemen and said: 'The work is done; I have finished both of them +off, but it was hard work! They tore up trees in their sore need, and +defended themselves with them, but all that is to no purpose when a man +like myself comes, who can kill seven at one blow.' 'But are you not +wounded?' asked the horsemen. 'You need not concern yourself about +that,' answered the tailor, 'they have not bent one hair of mine.' The +horsemen would not believe him, and rode into the forest; there they +found the giants swimming in their blood, and all round about lay the +torn-up trees. + +The little tailor demanded of the king the promised reward; he, however, +repented of his promise, and again bethought himself how he could get +rid of the hero. 'Before you receive my daughter, and the half of my +kingdom,' said he to him, 'you must perform one more heroic deed. In +the forest roams a unicorn which does great harm, and you must catch +it first.' 'I fear one unicorn still less than two giants. Seven at one +blow, is my kind of affair.' He took a rope and an axe with him, went +forth into the forest, and again bade those who were sent with him to +wait outside. He had not long to seek. The unicorn soon came towards +him, and rushed directly on the tailor, as if it would gore him with its +horn without more ado. 'Softly, softly; it can't be done as quickly as +that,' said he, and stood still and waited until the animal was quite +close, and then sprang nimbly behind the tree. The unicorn ran against +the tree with all its strength, and stuck its horn so fast in the trunk +that it had not the strength enough to draw it out again, and thus it +was caught. 'Now, I have got the bird,' said the tailor, and came out +from behind the tree and put the rope round its neck, and then with his +axe he hewed the horn out of the tree, and when all was ready he led the +beast away and took it to the king. + +The king still would not give him the promised reward, and made a third +demand. Before the wedding the tailor was to catch him a wild boar that +made great havoc in the forest, and the huntsmen should give him their +help. 'Willingly,' said the tailor, 'that is child's play!' He did not +take the huntsmen with him into the forest, and they were well pleased +that he did not, for the wild boar had several times received them in +such a manner that they had no inclination to lie in wait for him. When +the boar perceived the tailor, it ran on him with foaming mouth and +whetted tusks, and was about to throw him to the ground, but the hero +fled and sprang into a chapel which was near and up to the window at +once, and in one bound out again. The boar ran after him, but the tailor +ran round outside and shut the door behind it, and then the raging +beast, which was much too heavy and awkward to leap out of the window, +was caught. The little tailor called the huntsmen thither that they +might see the prisoner with their own eyes. The hero, however, went to +the king, who was now, whether he liked it or not, obliged to keep his +promise, and gave his daughter and the half of his kingdom. Had he known +that it was no warlike hero, but a little tailor who was standing before +him, it would have gone to his heart still more than it did. The wedding +was held with great magnificence and small joy, and out of a tailor a +king was made. + +After some time the young queen heard her husband say in his dreams at +night: 'Boy, make me the doublet, and patch the pantaloons, or else I +will rap the yard-measure over your ears.' Then she discovered in what +state of life the young lord had been born, and next morning complained +of her wrongs to her father, and begged him to help her to get rid of +her husband, who was nothing else but a tailor. The king comforted her +and said: 'Leave your bedroom door open this night, and my servants +shall stand outside, and when he has fallen asleep shall go in, bind +him, and take him on board a ship which shall carry him into the wide +world.' The woman was satisfied with this; but the king's armour-bearer, +who had heard all, was friendly with the young lord, and informed him of +the whole plot. 'I'll put a screw into that business,' said the little +tailor. At night he went to bed with his wife at the usual time, and +when she thought that he had fallen asleep, she got up, opened the door, +and then lay down again. The little tailor, who was only pretending to +be asleep, began to cry out in a clear voice: 'Boy, make me the doublet +and patch me the pantaloons, or I will rap the yard-measure over your +ears. I smote seven at one blow. I killed two giants, I brought away one +unicorn, and caught a wild boar, and am I to fear those who are standing +outside the room.' When these men heard the tailor speaking thus, they +were overcome by a great dread, and ran as if the wild huntsman were +behind them, and none of them would venture anything further against +him. So the little tailor was and remained a king to the end of his +life. + + + + +HANSEL AND GRETEL + +Hard by a great forest dwelt a poor wood-cutter with his wife and his +two children. The boy was called Hansel and the girl Gretel. He had +little to bite and to break, and once when great dearth fell on the +land, he could no longer procure even daily bread. Now when he thought +over this by night in his bed, and tossed about in his anxiety, he +groaned and said to his wife: 'What is to become of us? How are we +to feed our poor children, when we no longer have anything even for +ourselves?' 'I'll tell you what, husband,' answered the woman, 'early +tomorrow morning we will take the children out into the forest to where +it is the thickest; there we will light a fire for them, and give each +of them one more piece of bread, and then we will go to our work and +leave them alone. They will not find the way home again, and we shall be +rid of them.' 'No, wife,' said the man, 'I will not do that; how can I +bear to leave my children alone in the forest?--the wild animals would +soon come and tear them to pieces.' 'O, you fool!' said she, 'then we +must all four die of hunger, you may as well plane the planks for our +coffins,' and she left him no peace until he consented. 'But I feel very +sorry for the poor children, all the same,' said the man. + +The two children had also not been able to sleep for hunger, and had +heard what their stepmother had said to their father. Gretel wept +bitter tears, and said to Hansel: 'Now all is over with us.' 'Be quiet, +Gretel,' said Hansel, 'do not distress yourself, I will soon find a way +to help us.' And when the old folks had fallen asleep, he got up, put +on his little coat, opened the door below, and crept outside. The moon +shone brightly, and the white pebbles which lay in front of the house +glittered like real silver pennies. Hansel stooped and stuffed the +little pocket of his coat with as many as he could get in. Then he went +back and said to Gretel: 'Be comforted, dear little sister, and sleep in +peace, God will not forsake us,' and he lay down again in his bed. When +day dawned, but before the sun had risen, the woman came and awoke the +two children, saying: 'Get up, you sluggards! we are going into the +forest to fetch wood.' She gave each a little piece of bread, and said: +'There is something for your dinner, but do not eat it up before then, +for you will get nothing else.' Gretel took the bread under her apron, +as Hansel had the pebbles in his pocket. Then they all set out together +on the way to the forest. When they had walked a short time, Hansel +stood still and peeped back at the house, and did so again and again. +His father said: 'Hansel, what are you looking at there and staying +behind for? Pay attention, and do not forget how to use your legs.' 'Ah, +father,' said Hansel, 'I am looking at my little white cat, which is +sitting up on the roof, and wants to say goodbye to me.' The wife said: +'Fool, that is not your little cat, that is the morning sun which is +shining on the chimneys.' Hansel, however, had not been looking back at +the cat, but had been constantly throwing one of the white pebble-stones +out of his pocket on the road. + +When they had reached the middle of the forest, the father said: 'Now, +children, pile up some wood, and I will light a fire that you may not +be cold.' Hansel and Gretel gathered brushwood together, as high as a +little hill. The brushwood was lighted, and when the flames were burning +very high, the woman said: 'Now, children, lay yourselves down by the +fire and rest, we will go into the forest and cut some wood. When we +have done, we will come back and fetch you away.' + +Hansel and Gretel sat by the fire, and when noon came, each ate a little +piece of bread, and as they heard the strokes of the wood-axe they +believed that their father was near. It was not the axe, however, but +a branch which he had fastened to a withered tree which the wind was +blowing backwards and forwards. And as they had been sitting such a long +time, their eyes closed with fatigue, and they fell fast asleep. When +at last they awoke, it was already dark night. Gretel began to cry and +said: 'How are we to get out of the forest now?' But Hansel comforted +her and said: 'Just wait a little, until the moon has risen, and then we +will soon find the way.' And when the full moon had risen, Hansel took +his little sister by the hand, and followed the pebbles which shone like +newly-coined silver pieces, and showed them the way. + +They walked the whole night long, and by break of day came once more +to their father's house. They knocked at the door, and when the woman +opened it and saw that it was Hansel and Gretel, she said: 'You naughty +children, why have you slept so long in the forest?--we thought you were +never coming back at all!' The father, however, rejoiced, for it had cut +him to the heart to leave them behind alone. + +Not long afterwards, there was once more great dearth throughout the +land, and the children heard their mother saying at night to their +father: 'Everything is eaten again, we have one half loaf left, and that +is the end. The children must go, we will take them farther into the +wood, so that they will not find their way out again; there is no other +means of saving ourselves!' The man's heart was heavy, and he thought: +'It would be better for you to share the last mouthful with your +children.' The woman, however, would listen to nothing that he had to +say, but scolded and reproached him. He who says A must say B, likewise, +and as he had yielded the first time, he had to do so a second time +also. + +The children, however, were still awake and had heard the conversation. +When the old folks were asleep, Hansel again got up, and wanted to go +out and pick up pebbles as he had done before, but the woman had locked +the door, and Hansel could not get out. Nevertheless he comforted his +little sister, and said: 'Do not cry, Gretel, go to sleep quietly, the +good God will help us.' + +Early in the morning came the woman, and took the children out of their +beds. Their piece of bread was given to them, but it was still smaller +than the time before. On the way into the forest Hansel crumbled his +in his pocket, and often stood still and threw a morsel on the ground. +'Hansel, why do you stop and look round?' said the father, 'go on.' 'I +am looking back at my little pigeon which is sitting on the roof, and +wants to say goodbye to me,' answered Hansel. 'Fool!' said the woman, +'that is not your little pigeon, that is the morning sun that is shining +on the chimney.' Hansel, however little by little, threw all the crumbs +on the path. + +The woman led the children still deeper into the forest, where they had +never in their lives been before. Then a great fire was again made, and +the mother said: 'Just sit there, you children, and when you are tired +you may sleep a little; we are going into the forest to cut wood, and in +the evening when we are done, we will come and fetch you away.' When +it was noon, Gretel shared her piece of bread with Hansel, who had +scattered his by the way. Then they fell asleep and evening passed, but +no one came to the poor children. They did not awake until it was dark +night, and Hansel comforted his little sister and said: 'Just wait, +Gretel, until the moon rises, and then we shall see the crumbs of bread +which I have strewn about, they will show us our way home again.' When +the moon came they set out, but they found no crumbs, for the many +thousands of birds which fly about in the woods and fields had picked +them all up. Hansel said to Gretel: 'We shall soon find the way,' but +they did not find it. They walked the whole night and all the next day +too from morning till evening, but they did not get out of the forest, +and were very hungry, for they had nothing to eat but two or three +berries, which grew on the ground. And as they were so weary that their +legs would carry them no longer, they lay down beneath a tree and fell +asleep. + +It was now three mornings since they had left their father's house. They +began to walk again, but they always came deeper into the forest, and if +help did not come soon, they must die of hunger and weariness. When it +was mid-day, they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on a bough, +which sang so delightfully that they stood still and listened to it. And +when its song was over, it spread its wings and flew away before them, +and they followed it until they reached a little house, on the roof of +which it alighted; and when they approached the little house they saw +that it was built of bread and covered with cakes, but that the windows +were of clear sugar. 'We will set to work on that,' said Hansel, 'and +have a good meal. I will eat a bit of the roof, and you Gretel, can eat +some of the window, it will taste sweet.' Hansel reached up above, and +broke off a little of the roof to try how it tasted, and Gretel leant +against the window and nibbled at the panes. Then a soft voice cried +from the parlour: + + 'Nibble, nibble, gnaw, + Who is nibbling at my little house?' + +The children answered: + + 'The wind, the wind, + The heaven-born wind,' + +and went on eating without disturbing themselves. Hansel, who liked the +taste of the roof, tore down a great piece of it, and Gretel pushed out +the whole of one round window-pane, sat down, and enjoyed herself with +it. Suddenly the door opened, and a woman as old as the hills, who +supported herself on crutches, came creeping out. Hansel and Gretel were +so terribly frightened that they let fall what they had in their +hands. The old woman, however, nodded her head, and said: 'Oh, you dear +children, who has brought you here? do come in, and stay with me. No +harm shall happen to you.' She took them both by the hand, and led them +into her little house. Then good food was set before them, milk and +pancakes, with sugar, apples, and nuts. Afterwards two pretty little +beds were covered with clean white linen, and Hansel and Gretel lay down +in them, and thought they were in heaven. + +The old woman had only pretended to be so kind; she was in reality +a wicked witch, who lay in wait for children, and had only built the +little house of bread in order to entice them there. When a child fell +into her power, she killed it, cooked and ate it, and that was a feast +day with her. Witches have red eyes, and cannot see far, but they have +a keen scent like the beasts, and are aware when human beings draw near. +When Hansel and Gretel came into her neighbourhood, she laughed with +malice, and said mockingly: 'I have them, they shall not escape me +again!' Early in the morning before the children were awake, she was +already up, and when she saw both of them sleeping and looking so +pretty, with their plump and rosy cheeks she muttered to herself: 'That +will be a dainty mouthful!' Then she seized Hansel with her shrivelled +hand, carried him into a little stable, and locked him in behind a +grated door. Scream as he might, it would not help him. Then she went to +Gretel, shook her till she awoke, and cried: 'Get up, lazy thing, fetch +some water, and cook something good for your brother, he is in the +stable outside, and is to be made fat. When he is fat, I will eat him.' +Gretel began to weep bitterly, but it was all in vain, for she was +forced to do what the wicked witch commanded. + +And now the best food was cooked for poor Hansel, but Gretel got nothing +but crab-shells. Every morning the woman crept to the little stable, and +cried: 'Hansel, stretch out your finger that I may feel if you will soon +be fat.' Hansel, however, stretched out a little bone to her, and +the old woman, who had dim eyes, could not see it, and thought it was +Hansel's finger, and was astonished that there was no way of fattening +him. When four weeks had gone by, and Hansel still remained thin, she +was seized with impatience and would not wait any longer. 'Now, then, +Gretel,' she cried to the girl, 'stir yourself, and bring some water. +Let Hansel be fat or lean, tomorrow I will kill him, and cook him.' Ah, +how the poor little sister did lament when she had to fetch the water, +and how her tears did flow down her cheeks! 'Dear God, do help us,' she +cried. 'If the wild beasts in the forest had but devoured us, we should +at any rate have died together.' 'Just keep your noise to yourself,' +said the old woman, 'it won't help you at all.' + +Early in the morning, Gretel had to go out and hang up the cauldron with +the water, and light the fire. 'We will bake first,' said the old woman, +'I have already heated the oven, and kneaded the dough.' She pushed poor +Gretel out to the oven, from which flames of fire were already darting. +'Creep in,' said the witch, 'and see if it is properly heated, so that +we can put the bread in.' And once Gretel was inside, she intended to +shut the oven and let her bake in it, and then she would eat her, too. +But Gretel saw what she had in mind, and said: 'I do not know how I am +to do it; how do I get in?' 'Silly goose,' said the old woman. 'The door +is big enough; just look, I can get in myself!' and she crept up and +thrust her head into the oven. Then Gretel gave her a push that drove +her far into it, and shut the iron door, and fastened the bolt. Oh! then +she began to howl quite horribly, but Gretel ran away and the godless +witch was miserably burnt to death. + +Gretel, however, ran like lightning to Hansel, opened his little stable, +and cried: 'Hansel, we are saved! The old witch is dead!' Then Hansel +sprang like a bird from its cage when the door is opened. How they did +rejoice and embrace each other, and dance about and kiss each other! And +as they had no longer any need to fear her, they went into the witch's +house, and in every corner there stood chests full of pearls and jewels. +'These are far better than pebbles!' said Hansel, and thrust into his +pockets whatever could be got in, and Gretel said: 'I, too, will take +something home with me,' and filled her pinafore full. 'But now we must +be off,' said Hansel, 'that we may get out of the witch's forest.' + +When they had walked for two hours, they came to a great stretch of +water. 'We cannot cross,' said Hansel, 'I see no foot-plank, and no +bridge.' 'And there is also no ferry,' answered Gretel, 'but a white +duck is swimming there: if I ask her, she will help us over.' Then she +cried: + + 'Little duck, little duck, dost thou see, + Hansel and Gretel are waiting for thee? + There's never a plank, or bridge in sight, + Take us across on thy back so white.' + +The duck came to them, and Hansel seated himself on its back, and told +his sister to sit by him. 'No,' replied Gretel, 'that will be too heavy +for the little duck; she shall take us across, one after the other.' The +good little duck did so, and when they were once safely across and had +walked for a short time, the forest seemed to be more and more familiar +to them, and at length they saw from afar their father's house. Then +they began to run, rushed into the parlour, and threw themselves round +their father's neck. The man had not known one happy hour since he had +left the children in the forest; the woman, however, was dead. Gretel +emptied her pinafore until pearls and precious stones ran about the +room, and Hansel threw one handful after another out of his pocket to +add to them. Then all anxiety was at an end, and they lived together +in perfect happiness. My tale is done, there runs a mouse; whosoever +catches it, may make himself a big fur cap out of it. + + + + +THE MOUSE, THE BIRD, AND THE SAUSAGE + +Once upon a time, a mouse, a bird, and a sausage, entered into +partnership and set up house together. For a long time all went well; +they lived in great comfort, and prospered so far as to be able to add +considerably to their stores. The bird's duty was to fly daily into the +wood and bring in fuel; the mouse fetched the water, and the sausage saw +to the cooking. + +When people are too well off they always begin to long for something +new. And so it came to pass, that the bird, while out one day, met a +fellow bird, to whom he boastfully expatiated on the excellence of his +household arrangements. But the other bird sneered at him for being a +poor simpleton, who did all the hard work, while the other two stayed +at home and had a good time of it. For, when the mouse had made the fire +and fetched in the water, she could retire into her little room and rest +until it was time to set the table. The sausage had only to watch the +pot to see that the food was properly cooked, and when it was near +dinner-time, he just threw himself into the broth, or rolled in and out +among the vegetables three or four times, and there they were, buttered, +and salted, and ready to be served. Then, when the bird came home and +had laid aside his burden, they sat down to table, and when they had +finished their meal, they could sleep their fill till the following +morning: and that was really a very delightful life. + +Influenced by those remarks, the bird next morning refused to bring in +the wood, telling the others that he had been their servant long enough, +and had been a fool into the bargain, and that it was now time to make a +change, and to try some other way of arranging the work. Beg and pray +as the mouse and the sausage might, it was of no use; the bird remained +master of the situation, and the venture had to be made. They therefore +drew lots, and it fell to the sausage to bring in the wood, to the mouse +to cook, and to the bird to fetch the water. + +And now what happened? The sausage started in search of wood, the bird +made the fire, and the mouse put on the pot, and then these two waited +till the sausage returned with the fuel for the following day. But the +sausage remained so long away, that they became uneasy, and the bird +flew out to meet him. He had not flown far, however, when he came across +a dog who, having met the sausage, had regarded him as his legitimate +booty, and so seized and swallowed him. The bird complained to the dog +of this bare-faced robbery, but nothing he said was of any avail, for +the dog answered that he found false credentials on the sausage, and +that was the reason his life had been forfeited. + +He picked up the wood, and flew sadly home, and told the mouse all he +had seen and heard. They were both very unhappy, but agreed to make the +best of things and to remain with one another. + +So now the bird set the table, and the mouse looked after the food and, +wishing to prepare it in the same way as the sausage, by rolling in and +out among the vegetables to salt and butter them, she jumped into the +pot; but she stopped short long before she reached the bottom, having +already parted not only with her skin and hair, but also with life. + +Presently the bird came in and wanted to serve up the dinner, but he +could nowhere see the cook. In his alarm and flurry, he threw the wood +here and there about the floor, called and searched, but no cook was to +be found. Then some of the wood that had been carelessly thrown down, +caught fire and began to blaze. The bird hastened to fetch some water, +but his pail fell into the well, and he after it, and as he was unable +to recover himself, he was drowned. + + + + +MOTHER HOLLE + +Once upon a time there was a widow who had two daughters; one of them +was beautiful and industrious, the other ugly and lazy. The mother, +however, loved the ugly and lazy one best, because she was her own +daughter, and so the other, who was only her stepdaughter, was made +to do all the work of the house, and was quite the Cinderella of the +family. Her stepmother sent her out every day to sit by the well in +the high road, there to spin until she made her fingers bleed. Now it +chanced one day that some blood fell on to the spindle, and as the girl +stopped over the well to wash it off, the spindle suddenly sprang out +of her hand and fell into the well. She ran home crying to tell of her +misfortune, but her stepmother spoke harshly to her, and after giving +her a violent scolding, said unkindly, 'As you have let the spindle fall +into the well you may go yourself and fetch it out.' + +The girl went back to the well not knowing what to do, and at last in +her distress she jumped into the water after the spindle. + +She remembered nothing more until she awoke and found herself in a +beautiful meadow, full of sunshine, and with countless flowers blooming +in every direction. + +She walked over the meadow, and presently she came upon a baker's oven +full of bread, and the loaves cried out to her, 'Take us out, take us +out, or alas! we shall be burnt to a cinder; we were baked through long +ago.' So she took the bread-shovel and drew them all out. + +She went on a little farther, till she came to a tree full of apples. +'Shake me, shake me, I pray,' cried the tree; 'my apples, one and all, +are ripe.' So she shook the tree, and the apples came falling down upon +her like rain; but she continued shaking until there was not a single +apple left upon it. Then she carefully gathered the apples together in a +heap and walked on again. + +The next thing she came to was a little house, and there she saw an old +woman looking out, with such large teeth, that she was terrified, and +turned to run away. But the old woman called after her, 'What are you +afraid of, dear child? Stay with me; if you will do the work of my house +properly for me, I will make you very happy. You must be very careful, +however, to make my bed in the right way, for I wish you always to shake +it thoroughly, so that the feathers fly about; then they say, down there +in the world, that it is snowing; for I am Mother Holle.' The old woman +spoke so kindly, that the girl summoned up courage and agreed to enter +into her service. + +She took care to do everything according to the old woman's bidding and +every time she made the bed she shook it with all her might, so that the +feathers flew about like so many snowflakes. The old woman was as good +as her word: she never spoke angrily to her, and gave her roast and +boiled meats every day. + +So she stayed on with Mother Holle for some time, and then she began +to grow unhappy. She could not at first tell why she felt sad, but she +became conscious at last of great longing to go home; then she knew she +was homesick, although she was a thousand times better off with Mother +Holle than with her mother and sister. After waiting awhile, she went +to Mother Holle and said, 'I am so homesick, that I cannot stay with +you any longer, for although I am so happy here, I must return to my own +people.' + +Then Mother Holle said, 'I am pleased that you should want to go back +to your own people, and as you have served me so well and faithfully, I +will take you home myself.' + +Thereupon she led the girl by the hand up to a broad gateway. The gate +was opened, and as the girl passed through, a shower of gold fell upon +her, and the gold clung to her, so that she was covered with it from +head to foot. + +'That is a reward for your industry,' said Mother Holle, and as she +spoke she handed her the spindle which she had dropped into the well. + +The gate was then closed, and the girl found herself back in the old +world close to her mother's house. As she entered the courtyard, the +cock who was perched on the well, called out: + + 'Cock-a-doodle-doo! + Your golden daughter's come back to you.' + +Then she went in to her mother and sister, and as she was so richly +covered with gold, they gave her a warm welcome. She related to them +all that had happened, and when the mother heard how she had come by her +great riches, she thought she should like her ugly, lazy daughter to go +and try her fortune. So she made the sister go and sit by the well +and spin, and the girl pricked her finger and thrust her hand into a +thorn-bush, so that she might drop some blood on to the spindle; then +she threw it into the well, and jumped in herself. + +Like her sister she awoke in the beautiful meadow, and walked over it +till she came to the oven. 'Take us out, take us out, or alas! we shall +be burnt to a cinder; we were baked through long ago,' cried the loaves +as before. But the lazy girl answered, 'Do you think I am going to dirty +my hands for you?' and walked on. + +Presently she came to the apple-tree. 'Shake me, shake me, I pray; my +apples, one and all, are ripe,' it cried. But she only answered, 'A nice +thing to ask me to do, one of the apples might fall on my head,' and +passed on. + +At last she came to Mother Holle's house, and as she had heard all about +the large teeth from her sister, she was not afraid of them, and engaged +herself without delay to the old woman. + +The first day she was very obedient and industrious, and exerted herself +to please Mother Holle, for she thought of the gold she should get in +return. The next day, however, she began to dawdle over her work, and +the third day she was more idle still; then she began to lie in bed in +the mornings and refused to get up. Worse still, she neglected to +make the old woman's bed properly, and forgot to shake it so that the +feathers might fly about. So Mother Holle very soon got tired of her, +and told her she might go. The lazy girl was delighted at this, and +thought to herself, 'The gold will soon be mine.' Mother Holle led her, +as she had led her sister, to the broad gateway; but as she was passing +through, instead of the shower of gold, a great bucketful of pitch came +pouring over her. + +'That is in return for your services,' said the old woman, and she shut +the gate. + +So the lazy girl had to go home covered with pitch, and the cock on the +well called out as she saw her: + + 'Cock-a-doodle-doo! + Your dirty daughter's come back to you.' + +But, try what she would, she could not get the pitch off and it stuck to +her as long as she lived. + + + + +LITTLE RED-CAP [LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD] + +Once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was loved by everyone +who looked at her, but most of all by her grandmother, and there was +nothing that she would not have given to the child. Once she gave her a +little cap of red velvet, which suited her so well that she would never +wear anything else; so she was always called 'Little Red-Cap.' + +One day her mother said to her: 'Come, Little Red-Cap, here is a piece +of cake and a bottle of wine; take them to your grandmother, she is ill +and weak, and they will do her good. Set out before it gets hot, and +when you are going, walk nicely and quietly and do not run off the path, +or you may fall and break the bottle, and then your grandmother will +get nothing; and when you go into her room, don't forget to say, "Good +morning", and don't peep into every corner before you do it.' + +'I will take great care,' said Little Red-Cap to her mother, and gave +her hand on it. + +The grandmother lived out in the wood, half a league from the village, +and just as Little Red-Cap entered the wood, a wolf met her. Red-Cap +did not know what a wicked creature he was, and was not at all afraid of +him. + +'Good day, Little Red-Cap,' said he. + +'Thank you kindly, wolf.' + +'Whither away so early, Little Red-Cap?' + +'To my grandmother's.' + +'What have you got in your apron?' + +'Cake and wine; yesterday was baking-day, so poor sick grandmother is to +have something good, to make her stronger.' + +'Where does your grandmother live, Little Red-Cap?' + +'A good quarter of a league farther on in the wood; her house stands +under the three large oak-trees, the nut-trees are just below; you +surely must know it,' replied Little Red-Cap. + +The wolf thought to himself: 'What a tender young creature! what a nice +plump mouthful--she will be better to eat than the old woman. I must +act craftily, so as to catch both.' So he walked for a short time by +the side of Little Red-Cap, and then he said: 'See, Little Red-Cap, how +pretty the flowers are about here--why do you not look round? I believe, +too, that you do not hear how sweetly the little birds are singing; you +walk gravely along as if you were going to school, while everything else +out here in the wood is merry.' + +Little Red-Cap raised her eyes, and when she saw the sunbeams dancing +here and there through the trees, and pretty flowers growing everywhere, +she thought: 'Suppose I take grandmother a fresh nosegay; that would +please her too. It is so early in the day that I shall still get there +in good time'; and so she ran from the path into the wood to look for +flowers. And whenever she had picked one, she fancied that she saw a +still prettier one farther on, and ran after it, and so got deeper and +deeper into the wood. + +Meanwhile the wolf ran straight to the grandmother's house and knocked +at the door. + +'Who is there?' + +'Little Red-Cap,' replied the wolf. 'She is bringing cake and wine; open +the door.' + +'Lift the latch,' called out the grandmother, 'I am too weak, and cannot +get up.' + +The wolf lifted the latch, the door sprang open, and without saying a +word he went straight to the grandmother's bed, and devoured her. Then +he put on her clothes, dressed himself in her cap laid himself in bed +and drew the curtains. + +Little Red-Cap, however, had been running about picking flowers, +and when she had gathered so many that she could carry no more, she +remembered her grandmother, and set out on the way to her. + +She was surprised to find the cottage-door standing open, and when she +went into the room, she had such a strange feeling that she said to +herself: 'Oh dear! how uneasy I feel today, and at other times I like +being with grandmother so much.' She called out: 'Good morning,' but +received no answer; so she went to the bed and drew back the curtains. +There lay her grandmother with her cap pulled far over her face, and +looking very strange. + +'Oh! grandmother,' she said, 'what big ears you have!' + +'The better to hear you with, my child,' was the reply. + +'But, grandmother, what big eyes you have!' she said. + +'The better to see you with, my dear.' + +'But, grandmother, what large hands you have!' + +'The better to hug you with.' + +'Oh! but, grandmother, what a terrible big mouth you have!' + +'The better to eat you with!' + +And scarcely had the wolf said this, than with one bound he was out of +bed and swallowed up Red-Cap. + +When the wolf had appeased his appetite, he lay down again in the bed, +fell asleep and began to snore very loud. The huntsman was just passing +the house, and thought to himself: 'How the old woman is snoring! I must +just see if she wants anything.' So he went into the room, and when he +came to the bed, he saw that the wolf was lying in it. 'Do I find you +here, you old sinner!' said he. 'I have long sought you!' Then just as +he was going to fire at him, it occurred to him that the wolf might have +devoured the grandmother, and that she might still be saved, so he did +not fire, but took a pair of scissors, and began to cut open the stomach +of the sleeping wolf. When he had made two snips, he saw the little +Red-Cap shining, and then he made two snips more, and the little girl +sprang out, crying: 'Ah, how frightened I have been! How dark it was +inside the wolf'; and after that the aged grandmother came out alive +also, but scarcely able to breathe. Red-Cap, however, quickly fetched +great stones with which they filled the wolf's belly, and when he awoke, +he wanted to run away, but the stones were so heavy that he collapsed at +once, and fell dead. + +Then all three were delighted. The huntsman drew off the wolf's skin and +went home with it; the grandmother ate the cake and drank the wine which +Red-Cap had brought, and revived, but Red-Cap thought to herself: 'As +long as I live, I will never by myself leave the path, to run into the +wood, when my mother has forbidden me to do so.' + + + + +It also related that once when Red-Cap was again taking cakes to the old +grandmother, another wolf spoke to her, and tried to entice her from the +path. Red-Cap, however, was on her guard, and went straight forward on +her way, and told her grandmother that she had met the wolf, and that he +had said 'good morning' to her, but with such a wicked look in his eyes, +that if they had not been on the public road she was certain he would +have eaten her up. 'Well,' said the grandmother, 'we will shut the door, +that he may not come in.' Soon afterwards the wolf knocked, and cried: +'Open the door, grandmother, I am Little Red-Cap, and am bringing you +some cakes.' But they did not speak, or open the door, so the grey-beard +stole twice or thrice round the house, and at last jumped on the roof, +intending to wait until Red-Cap went home in the evening, and then to +steal after her and devour her in the darkness. But the grandmother +saw what was in his thoughts. In front of the house was a great stone +trough, so she said to the child: 'Take the pail, Red-Cap; I made some +sausages yesterday, so carry the water in which I boiled them to the +trough.' Red-Cap carried until the great trough was quite full. Then the +smell of the sausages reached the wolf, and he sniffed and peeped down, +and at last stretched out his neck so far that he could no longer keep +his footing and began to slip, and slipped down from the roof straight +into the great trough, and was drowned. But Red-Cap went joyously home, +and no one ever did anything to harm her again. + + + + +THE ROBBER BRIDEGROOM + +There was once a miller who had one beautiful daughter, and as she was +grown up, he was anxious that she should be well married and provided +for. He said to himself, 'I will give her to the first suitable man who +comes and asks for her hand.' Not long after a suitor appeared, and as +he appeared to be very rich and the miller could see nothing in him with +which to find fault, he betrothed his daughter to him. But the girl did +not care for the man as a girl ought to care for her betrothed husband. +She did not feel that she could trust him, and she could not look at him +nor think of him without an inward shudder. One day he said to her, 'You +have not yet paid me a visit, although we have been betrothed for some +time.' 'I do not know where your house is,' she answered. 'My house is +out there in the dark forest,' he said. She tried to excuse herself by +saying that she would not be able to find the way thither. Her betrothed +only replied, 'You must come and see me next Sunday; I have already +invited guests for that day, and that you may not mistake the way, I +will strew ashes along the path.' + +When Sunday came, and it was time for the girl to start, a feeling of +dread came over her which she could not explain, and that she might +be able to find her path again, she filled her pockets with peas and +lentils to sprinkle on the ground as she went along. On reaching the +entrance to the forest she found the path strewed with ashes, and these +she followed, throwing down some peas on either side of her at every +step she took. She walked the whole day until she came to the deepest, +darkest part of the forest. There she saw a lonely house, looking so +grim and mysterious, that it did not please her at all. She stepped +inside, but not a soul was to be seen, and a great silence reigned +throughout. Suddenly a voice cried: + + 'Turn back, turn back, young maiden fair, + Linger not in this murderers' lair.' + +The girl looked up and saw that the voice came from a bird hanging in a +cage on the wall. Again it cried: + + 'Turn back, turn back, young maiden fair, + Linger not in this murderers' lair.' + +The girl passed on, going from room to room of the house, but they were +all empty, and still she saw no one. At last she came to the cellar, +and there sat a very, very old woman, who could not keep her head from +shaking. 'Can you tell me,' asked the girl, 'if my betrothed husband +lives here?' + +'Ah, you poor child,' answered the old woman, 'what a place for you to +come to! This is a murderers' den. You think yourself a promised bride, +and that your marriage will soon take place, but it is with death that +you will keep your marriage feast. Look, do you see that large cauldron +of water which I am obliged to keep on the fire! As soon as they have +you in their power they will kill you without mercy, and cook and eat +you, for they are eaters of men. If I did not take pity on you and save +you, you would be lost.' + +Thereupon the old woman led her behind a large cask, which quite hid her +from view. 'Keep as still as a mouse,' she said; 'do not move or speak, +or it will be all over with you. Tonight, when the robbers are +all asleep, we will flee together. I have long been waiting for an +opportunity to escape.' + +The words were hardly out of her mouth when the godless crew returned, +dragging another young girl along with them. They were all drunk, and +paid no heed to her cries and lamentations. They gave her wine to drink, +three glasses full, one of white wine, one of red, and one of yellow, +and with that her heart gave way and she died. Then they tore off her +dainty clothing, laid her on a table, and cut her beautiful body into +pieces, and sprinkled salt upon it. + +The poor betrothed girl crouched trembling and shuddering behind the +cask, for she saw what a terrible fate had been intended for her by +the robbers. One of them now noticed a gold ring still remaining on +the little finger of the murdered girl, and as he could not draw it off +easily, he took a hatchet and cut off the finger; but the finger sprang +into the air, and fell behind the cask into the lap of the girl who was +hiding there. The robber took a light and began looking for it, but he +could not find it. 'Have you looked behind the large cask?' said one of +the others. But the old woman called out, 'Come and eat your suppers, +and let the thing be till tomorrow; the finger won't run away.' + +'The old woman is right,' said the robbers, and they ceased looking for +the finger and sat down. + +The old woman then mixed a sleeping draught with their wine, and before +long they were all lying on the floor of the cellar, fast asleep and +snoring. As soon as the girl was assured of this, she came from behind +the cask. She was obliged to step over the bodies of the sleepers, who +were lying close together, and every moment she was filled with renewed +dread lest she should awaken them. But God helped her, so that she +passed safely over them, and then she and the old woman went upstairs, +opened the door, and hastened as fast as they could from the murderers' +den. They found the ashes scattered by the wind, but the peas and +lentils had sprouted, and grown sufficiently above the ground, to guide +them in the moonlight along the path. All night long they walked, and it +was morning before they reached the mill. Then the girl told her father +all that had happened. + +The day came that had been fixed for the marriage. The bridegroom +arrived and also a large company of guests, for the miller had taken +care to invite all his friends and relations. As they sat at the feast, +each guest in turn was asked to tell a tale; the bride sat still and did +not say a word. + +'And you, my love,' said the bridegroom, turning to her, 'is there no +tale you know? Tell us something.' + +'I will tell you a dream, then,' said the bride. 'I went alone through a +forest and came at last to a house; not a soul could I find within, but +a bird that was hanging in a cage on the wall cried: + + 'Turn back, turn back, young maiden fair, + Linger not in this murderers' lair.' + +and again a second time it said these words.' + +'My darling, this is only a dream.' + +'I went on through the house from room to room, but they were all empty, +and everything was so grim and mysterious. At last I went down to the +cellar, and there sat a very, very old woman, who could not keep her +head still. I asked her if my betrothed lived here, and she answered, +"Ah, you poor child, you are come to a murderers' den; your betrothed +does indeed live here, but he will kill you without mercy and afterwards +cook and eat you."' + +'My darling, this is only a dream.' + +'The old woman hid me behind a large cask, and scarcely had she done +this when the robbers returned home, dragging a young girl along with +them. They gave her three kinds of wine to drink, white, red, and +yellow, and with that she died.' + +'My darling, this is only a dream.' + +'Then they tore off her dainty clothing, and cut her beautiful body into +pieces and sprinkled salt upon it.' + +'My darling, this is only a dream.' + +'And one of the robbers saw that there was a gold ring still left on her +finger, and as it was difficult to draw off, he took a hatchet and cut +off her finger; but the finger sprang into the air and fell behind the +great cask into my lap. And here is the finger with the ring.' And +with these words the bride drew forth the finger and shewed it to the +assembled guests. + +The bridegroom, who during this recital had grown deadly pale, up and +tried to escape, but the guests seized him and held him fast. They +delivered him up to justice, and he and all his murderous band were +condemned to death for their wicked deeds. + + + + +TOM THUMB + +A poor woodman sat in his cottage one night, smoking his pipe by the +fireside, while his wife sat by his side spinning. 'How lonely it is, +wife,' said he, as he puffed out a long curl of smoke, 'for you and me +to sit here by ourselves, without any children to play about and amuse +us while other people seem so happy and merry with their children!' +'What you say is very true,' said the wife, sighing, and turning round +her wheel; 'how happy should I be if I had but one child! If it were +ever so small--nay, if it were no bigger than my thumb--I should be very +happy, and love it dearly.' Now--odd as you may think it--it came to +pass that this good woman's wish was fulfilled, just in the very way she +had wished it; for, not long afterwards, she had a little boy, who was +quite healthy and strong, but was not much bigger than my thumb. So +they said, 'Well, we cannot say we have not got what we wished for, and, +little as he is, we will love him dearly.' And they called him Thomas +Thumb. + +They gave him plenty of food, yet for all they could do he never grew +bigger, but kept just the same size as he had been when he was born. +Still, his eyes were sharp and sparkling, and he soon showed himself to +be a clever little fellow, who always knew well what he was about. + +One day, as the woodman was getting ready to go into the wood to cut +fuel, he said, 'I wish I had someone to bring the cart after me, for I +want to make haste.' 'Oh, father,' cried Tom, 'I will take care of that; +the cart shall be in the wood by the time you want it.' Then the woodman +laughed, and said, 'How can that be? you cannot reach up to the horse's +bridle.' 'Never mind that, father,' said Tom; 'if my mother will only +harness the horse, I will get into his ear and tell him which way to +go.' 'Well,' said the father, 'we will try for once.' + +When the time came the mother harnessed the horse to the cart, and put +Tom into his ear; and as he sat there the little man told the beast how +to go, crying out, 'Go on!' and 'Stop!' as he wanted: and thus the horse +went on just as well as if the woodman had driven it himself into the +wood. It happened that as the horse was going a little too fast, and Tom +was calling out, 'Gently! gently!' two strangers came up. 'What an odd +thing that is!' said one: 'there is a cart going along, and I hear a +carter talking to the horse, but yet I can see no one.' 'That is queer, +indeed,' said the other; 'let us follow the cart, and see where it +goes.' So they went on into the wood, till at last they came to the +place where the woodman was. Then Tom Thumb, seeing his father, cried +out, 'See, father, here I am with the cart, all right and safe! now take +me down!' So his father took hold of the horse with one hand, and with +the other took his son out of the horse's ear, and put him down upon a +straw, where he sat as merry as you please. + +The two strangers were all this time looking on, and did not know what +to say for wonder. At last one took the other aside, and said, 'That +little urchin will make our fortune, if we can get him, and carry him +about from town to town as a show; we must buy him.' So they went up to +the woodman, and asked him what he would take for the little man. 'He +will be better off,' said they, 'with us than with you.' 'I won't sell +him at all,' said the father; 'my own flesh and blood is dearer to me +than all the silver and gold in the world.' But Tom, hearing of the +bargain they wanted to make, crept up his father's coat to his shoulder +and whispered in his ear, 'Take the money, father, and let them have me; +I'll soon come back to you.' + +So the woodman at last said he would sell Tom to the strangers for a +large piece of gold, and they paid the price. 'Where would you like to +sit?' said one of them. 'Oh, put me on the rim of your hat; that will be +a nice gallery for me; I can walk about there and see the country as we +go along.' So they did as he wished; and when Tom had taken leave of his +father they took him away with them. + +They journeyed on till it began to be dusky, and then the little man +said, 'Let me get down, I'm tired.' So the man took off his hat, and +put him down on a clod of earth, in a ploughed field by the side of the +road. But Tom ran about amongst the furrows, and at last slipped into +an old mouse-hole. 'Good night, my masters!' said he, 'I'm off! mind and +look sharp after me the next time.' Then they ran at once to the place, +and poked the ends of their sticks into the mouse-hole, but all in vain; +Tom only crawled farther and farther in; and at last it became quite +dark, so that they were forced to go their way without their prize, as +sulky as could be. + +When Tom found they were gone, he came out of his hiding-place. 'What +dangerous walking it is,' said he, 'in this ploughed field! If I were to +fall from one of these great clods, I should undoubtedly break my neck.' +At last, by good luck, he found a large empty snail-shell. 'This is +lucky,' said he, 'I can sleep here very well'; and in he crept. + +Just as he was falling asleep, he heard two men passing by, chatting +together; and one said to the other, 'How can we rob that rich parson's +house of his silver and gold?' 'I'll tell you!' cried Tom. 'What noise +was that?' said the thief, frightened; 'I'm sure I heard someone speak.' +They stood still listening, and Tom said, 'Take me with you, and I'll +soon show you how to get the parson's money.' 'But where are you?' said +they. 'Look about on the ground,' answered he, 'and listen where the +sound comes from.' At last the thieves found him out, and lifted him +up in their hands. 'You little urchin!' they said, 'what can you do for +us?' 'Why, I can get between the iron window-bars of the parson's house, +and throw you out whatever you want.' 'That's a good thought,' said the +thieves; 'come along, we shall see what you can do.' + +When they came to the parson's house, Tom slipped through the +window-bars into the room, and then called out as loud as he could bawl, +'Will you have all that is here?' At this the thieves were frightened, +and said, 'Softly, softly! Speak low, that you may not awaken anybody.' +But Tom seemed as if he did not understand them, and bawled out again, +'How much will you have? Shall I throw it all out?' Now the cook lay in +the next room; and hearing a noise she raised herself up in her bed and +listened. Meantime the thieves were frightened, and ran off a little +way; but at last they plucked up their hearts, and said, 'The little +urchin is only trying to make fools of us.' So they came back and +whispered softly to him, saying, 'Now let us have no more of your +roguish jokes; but throw us out some of the money.' Then Tom called out +as loud as he could, 'Very well! hold your hands! here it comes.' + +The cook heard this quite plain, so she sprang out of bed, and ran to +open the door. The thieves ran off as if a wolf was at their tails: and +the maid, having groped about and found nothing, went away for a light. +By the time she came back, Tom had slipped off into the barn; and when +she had looked about and searched every hole and corner, and found +nobody, she went to bed, thinking she must have been dreaming with her +eyes open. + +The little man crawled about in the hay-loft, and at last found a snug +place to finish his night's rest in; so he laid himself down, meaning +to sleep till daylight, and then find his way home to his father and +mother. But alas! how woefully he was undone! what crosses and sorrows +happen to us all in this world! The cook got up early, before daybreak, +to feed the cows; and going straight to the hay-loft, carried away +a large bundle of hay, with the little man in the middle of it, fast +asleep. He still, however, slept on, and did not awake till he found +himself in the mouth of the cow; for the cook had put the hay into the +cow's rick, and the cow had taken Tom up in a mouthful of it. 'Good +lack-a-day!' said he, 'how came I to tumble into the mill?' But he soon +found out where he really was; and was forced to have all his wits about +him, that he might not get between the cow's teeth, and so be crushed to +death. At last down he went into her stomach. 'It is rather dark,' said +he; 'they forgot to build windows in this room to let the sun in; a +candle would be no bad thing.' + +Though he made the best of his bad luck, he did not like his quarters at +all; and the worst of it was, that more and more hay was always coming +down, and the space left for him became smaller and smaller. At last he +cried out as loud as he could, 'Don't bring me any more hay! Don't bring +me any more hay!' + +The maid happened to be just then milking the cow; and hearing someone +speak, but seeing nobody, and yet being quite sure it was the same voice +that she had heard in the night, she was so frightened that she fell off +her stool, and overset the milk-pail. As soon as she could pick herself +up out of the dirt, she ran off as fast as she could to her master the +parson, and said, 'Sir, sir, the cow is talking!' But the parson +said, 'Woman, thou art surely mad!' However, he went with her into the +cow-house, to try and see what was the matter. + +Scarcely had they set foot on the threshold, when Tom called out, 'Don't +bring me any more hay!' Then the parson himself was frightened; and +thinking the cow was surely bewitched, told his man to kill her on the +spot. So the cow was killed, and cut up; and the stomach, in which Tom +lay, was thrown out upon a dunghill. + +Tom soon set himself to work to get out, which was not a very easy +task; but at last, just as he had made room to get his head out, fresh +ill-luck befell him. A hungry wolf sprang out, and swallowed up the +whole stomach, with Tom in it, at one gulp, and ran away. + +Tom, however, was still not disheartened; and thinking the wolf would +not dislike having some chat with him as he was going along, he called +out, 'My good friend, I can show you a famous treat.' 'Where's that?' +said the wolf. 'In such and such a house,' said Tom, describing his own +father's house. 'You can crawl through the drain into the kitchen and +then into the pantry, and there you will find cakes, ham, beef, cold +chicken, roast pig, apple-dumplings, and everything that your heart can +wish.' + +The wolf did not want to be asked twice; so that very night he went to +the house and crawled through the drain into the kitchen, and then into +the pantry, and ate and drank there to his heart's content. As soon as +he had had enough he wanted to get away; but he had eaten so much that +he could not go out by the same way he came in. + +This was just what Tom had reckoned upon; and now he began to set up a +great shout, making all the noise he could. 'Will you be easy?' said the +wolf; 'you'll awaken everybody in the house if you make such a clatter.' +'What's that to me?' said the little man; 'you have had your frolic, now +I've a mind to be merry myself'; and he began, singing and shouting as +loud as he could. + +The woodman and his wife, being awakened by the noise, peeped through +a crack in the door; but when they saw a wolf was there, you may well +suppose that they were sadly frightened; and the woodman ran for his +axe, and gave his wife a scythe. 'Do you stay behind,' said the woodman, +'and when I have knocked him on the head you must rip him up with the +scythe.' Tom heard all this, and cried out, 'Father, father! I am here, +the wolf has swallowed me.' And his father said, 'Heaven be praised! we +have found our dear child again'; and he told his wife not to use the +scythe for fear she should hurt him. Then he aimed a great blow, and +struck the wolf on the head, and killed him on the spot! and when he was +dead they cut open his body, and set Tommy free. 'Ah!' said the father, +'what fears we have had for you!' 'Yes, father,' answered he; 'I have +travelled all over the world, I think, in one way or other, since we +parted; and now I am very glad to come home and get fresh air again.' +'Why, where have you been?' said his father. 'I have been in a +mouse-hole--and in a snail-shell--and down a cow's throat--and in the +wolf's belly; and yet here I am again, safe and sound.' + +'Well,' said they, 'you are come back, and we will not sell you again +for all the riches in the world.' + +Then they hugged and kissed their dear little son, and gave him plenty +to eat and drink, for he was very hungry; and then they fetched new +clothes for him, for his old ones had been quite spoiled on his journey. +So Master Thumb stayed at home with his father and mother, in peace; for +though he had been so great a traveller, and had done and seen so many +fine things, and was fond enough of telling the whole story, he always +agreed that, after all, there's no place like HOME! + + + + +RUMPELSTILTSKIN + +By the side of a wood, in a country a long way off, ran a fine stream +of water; and upon the stream there stood a mill. The miller's house was +close by, and the miller, you must know, had a very beautiful daughter. +She was, moreover, very shrewd and clever; and the miller was so proud +of her, that he one day told the king of the land, who used to come and +hunt in the wood, that his daughter could spin gold out of straw. Now +this king was very fond of money; and when he heard the miller's boast +his greediness was raised, and he sent for the girl to be brought before +him. Then he led her to a chamber in his palace where there was a great +heap of straw, and gave her a spinning-wheel, and said, 'All this must +be spun into gold before morning, as you love your life.' It was in vain +that the poor maiden said that it was only a silly boast of her father, +for that she could do no such thing as spin straw into gold: the chamber +door was locked, and she was left alone. + +She sat down in one corner of the room, and began to bewail her hard +fate; when on a sudden the door opened, and a droll-looking little man +hobbled in, and said, 'Good morrow to you, my good lass; what are you +weeping for?' 'Alas!' said she, 'I must spin this straw into gold, and +I know not how.' 'What will you give me,' said the hobgoblin, 'to do it +for you?' 'My necklace,' replied the maiden. He took her at her word, +and sat himself down to the wheel, and whistled and sang: + + 'Round about, round about, + Lo and behold! + Reel away, reel away, + Straw into gold!' + +And round about the wheel went merrily; the work was quickly done, and +the straw was all spun into gold. + +When the king came and saw this, he was greatly astonished and pleased; +but his heart grew still more greedy of gain, and he shut up the poor +miller's daughter again with a fresh task. Then she knew not what to do, +and sat down once more to weep; but the dwarf soon opened the door, and +said, 'What will you give me to do your task?' 'The ring on my finger,' +said she. So her little friend took the ring, and began to work at the +wheel again, and whistled and sang: + + 'Round about, round about, + Lo and behold! + Reel away, reel away, + Straw into gold!' + +till, long before morning, all was done again. + +The king was greatly delighted to see all this glittering treasure; +but still he had not enough: so he took the miller's daughter to a yet +larger heap, and said, 'All this must be spun tonight; and if it is, +you shall be my queen.' As soon as she was alone that dwarf came in, and +said, 'What will you give me to spin gold for you this third time?' +'I have nothing left,' said she. 'Then say you will give me,' said +the little man, 'the first little child that you may have when you are +queen.' 'That may never be,' thought the miller's daughter: and as she +knew no other way to get her task done, she said she would do what he +asked. Round went the wheel again to the old song, and the manikin once +more spun the heap into gold. The king came in the morning, and, finding +all he wanted, was forced to keep his word; so he married the miller's +daughter, and she really became queen. + +At the birth of her first little child she was very glad, and forgot the +dwarf, and what she had said. But one day he came into her room, where +she was sitting playing with her baby, and put her in mind of it. Then +she grieved sorely at her misfortune, and said she would give him all +the wealth of the kingdom if he would let her off, but in vain; till at +last her tears softened him, and he said, 'I will give you three days' +grace, and if during that time you tell me my name, you shall keep your +child.' + +Now the queen lay awake all night, thinking of all the odd names that +she had ever heard; and she sent messengers all over the land to find +out new ones. The next day the little man came, and she began with +TIMOTHY, ICHABOD, BENJAMIN, JEREMIAH, and all the names she could +remember; but to all and each of them he said, 'Madam, that is not my +name.' + +The second day she began with all the comical names she could hear of, +BANDY-LEGS, HUNCHBACK, CROOK-SHANKS, and so on; but the little gentleman +still said to every one of them, 'Madam, that is not my name.' + +The third day one of the messengers came back, and said, 'I have +travelled two days without hearing of any other names; but yesterday, as +I was climbing a high hill, among the trees of the forest where the fox +and the hare bid each other good night, I saw a little hut; and before +the hut burnt a fire; and round about the fire a funny little dwarf was +dancing upon one leg, and singing: + + "Merrily the feast I'll make. + Today I'll brew, tomorrow bake; + Merrily I'll dance and sing, + For next day will a stranger bring. + Little does my lady dream + Rumpelstiltskin is my name!" + +When the queen heard this she jumped for joy, and as soon as her little +friend came she sat down upon her throne, and called all her court round +to enjoy the fun; and the nurse stood by her side with the baby in her +arms, as if it was quite ready to be given up. Then the little man began +to chuckle at the thought of having the poor child, to take home with +him to his hut in the woods; and he cried out, 'Now, lady, what is my +name?' 'Is it JOHN?' asked she. 'No, madam!' 'Is it TOM?' 'No, madam!' +'Is it JEMMY?' 'It is not.' 'Can your name be RUMPELSTILTSKIN?' said the +lady slyly. 'Some witch told you that!--some witch told you that!' cried +the little man, and dashed his right foot in a rage so deep into the +floor, that he was forced to lay hold of it with both hands to pull it +out. + +Then he made the best of his way off, while the nurse laughed and the +baby crowed; and all the court jeered at him for having had so much +trouble for nothing, and said, 'We wish you a very good morning, and a +merry feast, Mr RUMPLESTILTSKIN!' + + + + +CLEVER GRETEL + +There was once a cook named Gretel, who wore shoes with red heels, and +when she walked out with them on, she turned herself this way and that, +was quite happy and thought: 'You certainly are a pretty girl!' And when +she came home she drank, in her gladness of heart, a draught of wine, +and as wine excites a desire to eat, she tasted the best of whatever she +was cooking until she was satisfied, and said: 'The cook must know what +the food is like.' + +It came to pass that the master one day said to her: 'Gretel, there is a +guest coming this evening; prepare me two fowls very daintily.' 'I will +see to it, master,' answered Gretel. She killed two fowls, scalded them, +plucked them, put them on the spit, and towards evening set them before +the fire, that they might roast. The fowls began to turn brown, and were +nearly ready, but the guest had not yet arrived. Then Gretel called out +to her master: 'If the guest does not come, I must take the fowls away +from the fire, but it will be a sin and a shame if they are not eaten +the moment they are at their juiciest.' The master said: 'I will run +myself, and fetch the guest.' When the master had turned his back, +Gretel laid the spit with the fowls on one side, and thought: 'Standing +so long by the fire there, makes one sweat and thirsty; who knows +when they will come? Meanwhile, I will run into the cellar, and take a +drink.' She ran down, set a jug, said: 'God bless it for you, Gretel,' +and took a good drink, and thought that wine should flow on, and should +not be interrupted, and took yet another hearty draught. + +Then she went and put the fowls down again to the fire, basted them, +and drove the spit merrily round. But as the roast meat smelt so good, +Gretel thought: 'Something might be wrong, it ought to be tasted!' +She touched it with her finger, and said: 'Ah! how good fowls are! It +certainly is a sin and a shame that they are not eaten at the right +time!' She ran to the window, to see if the master was not coming with +his guest, but she saw no one, and went back to the fowls and thought: +'One of the wings is burning! I had better take it off and eat it.' +So she cut it off, ate it, and enjoyed it, and when she had done, she +thought: 'The other must go down too, or else master will observe that +something is missing.' When the two wings were eaten, she went and +looked for her master, and did not see him. It suddenly occurred to +her: 'Who knows? They are perhaps not coming at all, and have turned in +somewhere.' Then she said: 'Well, Gretel, enjoy yourself, one fowl has +been cut into, take another drink, and eat it up entirely; when it is +eaten you will have some peace, why should God's good gifts be spoilt?' +So she ran into the cellar again, took an enormous drink and ate up the +one chicken in great glee. When one of the chickens was swallowed down, +and still her master did not come, Gretel looked at the other and said: +'What one is, the other should be likewise, the two go together; what's +right for the one is right for the other; I think if I were to take +another draught it would do me no harm.' So she took another hearty +drink, and let the second chicken follow the first. + +While she was making the most of it, her master came and cried: 'Hurry +up, Gretel, the guest is coming directly after me!' 'Yes, sir, I will +soon serve up,' answered Gretel. Meantime the master looked to see that +the table was properly laid, and took the great knife, wherewith he was +going to carve the chickens, and sharpened it on the steps. Presently +the guest came, and knocked politely and courteously at the house-door. +Gretel ran, and looked to see who was there, and when she saw the guest, +she put her finger to her lips and said: 'Hush! hush! go away as quickly +as you can, if my master catches you it will be the worse for you; he +certainly did ask you to supper, but his intention is to cut off your +two ears. Just listen how he is sharpening the knife for it!' The guest +heard the sharpening, and hurried down the steps again as fast as he +could. Gretel was not idle; she ran screaming to her master, and cried: +'You have invited a fine guest!' 'Why, Gretel? What do you mean by +that?' 'Yes,' said she, 'he has taken the chickens which I was just +going to serve up, off the dish, and has run away with them!' 'That's a +nice trick!' said her master, and lamented the fine chickens. 'If he had +but left me one, so that something remained for me to eat.' He called to +him to stop, but the guest pretended not to hear. Then he ran after him +with the knife still in his hand, crying: 'Just one, just one,' meaning +that the guest should leave him just one chicken, and not take both. The +guest, however, thought no otherwise than that he was to give up one of +his ears, and ran as if fire were burning under him, in order to take +them both with him. + + + + +THE OLD MAN AND HIS GRANDSON + +There was once a very old man, whose eyes had become dim, his ears dull +of hearing, his knees trembled, and when he sat at table he could hardly +hold the spoon, and spilt the broth upon the table-cloth or let it run +out of his mouth. His son and his son's wife were disgusted at this, so +the old grandfather at last had to sit in the corner behind the stove, +and they gave him his food in an earthenware bowl, and not even enough +of it. And he used to look towards the table with his eyes full of +tears. Once, too, his trembling hands could not hold the bowl, and it +fell to the ground and broke. The young wife scolded him, but he said +nothing and only sighed. Then they brought him a wooden bowl for a few +half-pence, out of which he had to eat. + +They were once sitting thus when the little grandson of four years old +began to gather together some bits of wood upon the ground. 'What are +you doing there?' asked the father. 'I am making a little trough,' +answered the child, 'for father and mother to eat out of when I am big.' + +The man and his wife looked at each other for a while, and presently +began to cry. Then they took the old grandfather to the table, and +henceforth always let him eat with them, and likewise said nothing if he +did spill a little of anything. + + + + +THE LITTLE PEASANT + +There was a certain village wherein no one lived but really rich +peasants, and just one poor one, whom they called the little peasant. He +had not even so much as a cow, and still less money to buy one, and +yet he and his wife did so wish to have one. One day he said to her: +'Listen, I have a good idea, there is our gossip the carpenter, he shall +make us a wooden calf, and paint it brown, so that it looks like any +other, and in time it will certainly get big and be a cow.' the woman +also liked the idea, and their gossip the carpenter cut and planed +the calf, and painted it as it ought to be, and made it with its head +hanging down as if it were eating. + +Next morning when the cows were being driven out, the little peasant +called the cow-herd in and said: 'Look, I have a little calf there, +but it is still small and has to be carried.' The cow-herd said: 'All +right,' and took it in his arms and carried it to the pasture, and set +it among the grass. The little calf always remained standing like one +which was eating, and the cow-herd said: 'It will soon run by itself, +just look how it eats already!' At night when he was going to drive the +herd home again, he said to the calf: 'If you can stand there and eat +your fill, you can also go on your four legs; I don't care to drag you +home again in my arms.' But the little peasant stood at his door, and +waited for his little calf, and when the cow-herd drove the cows through +the village, and the calf was missing, he inquired where it was. The +cow-herd answered: 'It is still standing out there eating. It would not +stop and come with us.' But the little peasant said: 'Oh, but I must +have my beast back again.' Then they went back to the meadow together, +but someone had stolen the calf, and it was gone. The cow-herd said: 'It +must have run away.' The peasant, however, said: 'Don't tell me +that,' and led the cow-herd before the mayor, who for his carelessness +condemned him to give the peasant a cow for the calf which had run away. + +And now the little peasant and his wife had the cow for which they had +so long wished, and they were heartily glad, but they had no food for +it, and could give it nothing to eat, so it soon had to be killed. They +salted the flesh, and the peasant went into the town and wanted to sell +the skin there, so that he might buy a new calf with the proceeds. On +the way he passed by a mill, and there sat a raven with broken wings, +and out of pity he took him and wrapped him in the skin. But as the +weather grew so bad and there was a storm of rain and wind, he could +go no farther, and turned back to the mill and begged for shelter. The +miller's wife was alone in the house, and said to the peasant: 'Lay +yourself on the straw there,' and gave him a slice of bread and cheese. +The peasant ate it, and lay down with his skin beside him, and the woman +thought: 'He is tired and has gone to sleep.' In the meantime came the +parson; the miller's wife received him well, and said: 'My husband is +out, so we will have a feast.' The peasant listened, and when he heard +them talk about feasting he was vexed that he had been forced to make +shift with a slice of bread and cheese. Then the woman served up four +different things, roast meat, salad, cakes, and wine. + +Just as they were about to sit down and eat, there was a knocking +outside. The woman said: 'Oh, heavens! It is my husband!' she quickly +hid the roast meat inside the tiled stove, the wine under the pillow, +the salad on the bed, the cakes under it, and the parson in the closet +on the porch. Then she opened the door for her husband, and said: 'Thank +heaven, you are back again! There is such a storm, it looks as if the +world were coming to an end.' The miller saw the peasant lying on the +straw, and asked, 'What is that fellow doing there?' 'Ah,' said the +wife, 'the poor knave came in the storm and rain, and begged for +shelter, so I gave him a bit of bread and cheese, and showed him where +the straw was.' The man said: 'I have no objection, but be quick and get +me something to eat.' The woman said: 'But I have nothing but bread and +cheese.' 'I am contented with anything,' replied the husband, 'so far as +I am concerned, bread and cheese will do,' and looked at the peasant and +said: 'Come and eat some more with me.' The peasant did not require to +be invited twice, but got up and ate. After this the miller saw the skin +in which the raven was, lying on the ground, and asked: 'What have you +there?' The peasant answered: 'I have a soothsayer inside it.' 'Can +he foretell anything to me?' said the miller. 'Why not?' answered +the peasant: 'but he only says four things, and the fifth he keeps to +himself.' The miller was curious, and said: 'Let him foretell something +for once.' Then the peasant pinched the raven's head, so that he croaked +and made a noise like krr, krr. The miller said: 'What did he say?' The +peasant answered: 'In the first place, he says that there is some wine +hidden under the pillow.' 'Bless me!' cried the miller, and went there +and found the wine. 'Now go on,' said he. The peasant made the raven +croak again, and said: 'In the second place, he says that there is some +roast meat in the tiled stove.' 'Upon my word!' cried the miller, and +went thither, and found the roast meat. The peasant made the raven +prophesy still more, and said: 'Thirdly, he says that there is some +salad on the bed.' 'That would be a fine thing!' cried the miller, and +went there and found the salad. At last the peasant pinched the raven +once more till he croaked, and said: 'Fourthly, he says that there +are some cakes under the bed.' 'That would be a fine thing!' cried the +miller, and looked there, and found the cakes. + +And now the two sat down to the table together, but the miller's wife +was frightened to death, and went to bed and took all the keys with +her. The miller would have liked much to know the fifth, but the little +peasant said: 'First, we will quickly eat the four things, for the fifth +is something bad.' So they ate, and after that they bargained how much +the miller was to give for the fifth prophecy, until they agreed on +three hundred talers. Then the peasant once more pinched the raven's +head till he croaked loudly. The miller asked: 'What did he say?' The +peasant replied: 'He says that the Devil is hiding outside there in +the closet on the porch.' The miller said: 'The Devil must go out,' and +opened the house-door; then the woman was forced to give up the keys, +and the peasant unlocked the closet. The parson ran out as fast as he +could, and the miller said: 'It was true; I saw the black rascal with my +own eyes.' The peasant, however, made off next morning by daybreak with +the three hundred talers. + +At home the small peasant gradually launched out; he built a beautiful +house, and the peasants said: 'The small peasant has certainly been to +the place where golden snow falls, and people carry the gold home in +shovels.' Then the small peasant was brought before the mayor, and +bidden to say from whence his wealth came. He answered: 'I sold my cow's +skin in the town, for three hundred talers.' When the peasants heard +that, they too wished to enjoy this great profit, and ran home, killed +all their cows, and stripped off their skins in order to sell them in +the town to the greatest advantage. The mayor, however, said: 'But my +servant must go first.' When she came to the merchant in the town, he +did not give her more than two talers for a skin, and when the others +came, he did not give them so much, and said: 'What can I do with all +these skins?' + +Then the peasants were vexed that the small peasant should have thus +outwitted them, wanted to take vengeance on him, and accused him of this +treachery before the mayor. The innocent little peasant was unanimously +sentenced to death, and was to be rolled into the water, in a barrel +pierced full of holes. He was led forth, and a priest was brought who +was to say a mass for his soul. The others were all obliged to retire to +a distance, and when the peasant looked at the priest, he recognized the +man who had been with the miller's wife. He said to him: 'I set you free +from the closet, set me free from the barrel.' At this same moment up +came, with a flock of sheep, the very shepherd whom the peasant knew had +long been wishing to be mayor, so he cried with all his might: 'No, I +will not do it; if the whole world insists on it, I will not do it!' The +shepherd hearing that, came up to him, and asked: 'What are you about? +What is it that you will not do?' The peasant said: 'They want to make +me mayor, if I will but put myself in the barrel, but I will not do it.' +The shepherd said: 'If nothing more than that is needful in order to be +mayor, I would get into the barrel at once.' The peasant said: 'If you +will get in, you will be mayor.' The shepherd was willing, and got in, +and the peasant shut the top down on him; then he took the shepherd's +flock for himself, and drove it away. The parson went to the crowd, +and declared that the mass had been said. Then they came and rolled the +barrel towards the water. When the barrel began to roll, the shepherd +cried: 'I am quite willing to be mayor.' They believed no otherwise than +that it was the peasant who was saying this, and answered: 'That is +what we intend, but first you shall look about you a little down below +there,' and they rolled the barrel down into the water. + +After that the peasants went home, and as they were entering the +village, the small peasant also came quietly in, driving a flock of +sheep and looking quite contented. Then the peasants were astonished, +and said: 'Peasant, from whence do you come? Have you come out of the +water?' 'Yes, truly,' replied the peasant, 'I sank deep, deep down, +until at last I got to the bottom; I pushed the bottom out of the +barrel, and crept out, and there were pretty meadows on which a number +of lambs were feeding, and from thence I brought this flock away with +me.' Said the peasants: 'Are there any more there?' 'Oh, yes,' said he, +'more than I could want.' Then the peasants made up their minds that +they too would fetch some sheep for themselves, a flock apiece, but the +mayor said: 'I come first.' So they went to the water together, and just +then there were some of the small fleecy clouds in the blue sky, which +are called little lambs, and they were reflected in the water, whereupon +the peasants cried: 'We already see the sheep down below!' The mayor +pressed forward and said: 'I will go down first, and look about me, and +if things promise well I'll call you.' So he jumped in; splash! went +the water; it sounded as if he were calling them, and the whole crowd +plunged in after him as one man. Then the entire village was dead, and +the small peasant, as sole heir, became a rich man. + + + + +FREDERICK AND CATHERINE + +There was once a man called Frederick: he had a wife whose name was +Catherine, and they had not long been married. One day Frederick said. +'Kate! I am going to work in the fields; when I come back I shall be +hungry so let me have something nice cooked, and a good draught of ale.' +'Very well,' said she, 'it shall all be ready.' When dinner-time drew +nigh, Catherine took a nice steak, which was all the meat she had, and +put it on the fire to fry. The steak soon began to look brown, and to +crackle in the pan; and Catherine stood by with a fork and turned it: +then she said to herself, 'The steak is almost ready, I may as well go +to the cellar for the ale.' So she left the pan on the fire and took a +large jug and went into the cellar and tapped the ale cask. The beer ran +into the jug and Catherine stood looking on. At last it popped into her +head, 'The dog is not shut up--he may be running away with the steak; +that's well thought of.' So up she ran from the cellar; and sure enough +the rascally cur had got the steak in his mouth, and was making off with +it. + +Away ran Catherine, and away ran the dog across the field: but he ran +faster than she, and stuck close to the steak. 'It's all gone, and "what +can't be cured must be endured",' said Catherine. So she turned round; +and as she had run a good way and was tired, she walked home leisurely +to cool herself. + +Now all this time the ale was running too, for Catherine had not turned +the cock; and when the jug was full the liquor ran upon the floor till +the cask was empty. When she got to the cellar stairs she saw what had +happened. 'My stars!' said she, 'what shall I do to keep Frederick from +seeing all this slopping about?' So she thought a while; and at last +remembered that there was a sack of fine meal bought at the last fair, +and that if she sprinkled this over the floor it would suck up the ale +nicely. 'What a lucky thing,' said she, 'that we kept that meal! we have +now a good use for it.' So away she went for it: but she managed to set +it down just upon the great jug full of beer, and upset it; and thus +all the ale that had been saved was set swimming on the floor also. 'Ah! +well,' said she, 'when one goes another may as well follow.' Then she +strewed the meal all about the cellar, and was quite pleased with her +cleverness, and said, 'How very neat and clean it looks!' + +At noon Frederick came home. 'Now, wife,' cried he, 'what have you for +dinner?' 'O Frederick!' answered she, 'I was cooking you a steak; but +while I went down to draw the ale, the dog ran away with it; and while +I ran after him, the ale ran out; and when I went to dry up the ale +with the sack of meal that we got at the fair, I upset the jug: but the +cellar is now quite dry, and looks so clean!' 'Kate, Kate,' said he, +'how could you do all this?' Why did you leave the steak to fry, and the +ale to run, and then spoil all the meal?' 'Why, Frederick,' said she, 'I +did not know I was doing wrong; you should have told me before.' + +The husband thought to himself, 'If my wife manages matters thus, I must +look sharp myself.' Now he had a good deal of gold in the house: so he +said to Catherine, 'What pretty yellow buttons these are! I shall put +them into a box and bury them in the garden; but take care that you +never go near or meddle with them.' 'No, Frederick,' said she, 'that +I never will.' As soon as he was gone, there came by some pedlars with +earthenware plates and dishes, and they asked her whether she would buy. +'Oh dear me, I should like to buy very much, but I have no money: if +you had any use for yellow buttons, I might deal with you.' 'Yellow +buttons!' said they: 'let us have a look at them.' 'Go into the garden +and dig where I tell you, and you will find the yellow buttons: I dare +not go myself.' So the rogues went: and when they found what these +yellow buttons were, they took them all away, and left her plenty of +plates and dishes. Then she set them all about the house for a show: +and when Frederick came back, he cried out, 'Kate, what have you been +doing?' 'See,' said she, 'I have bought all these with your yellow +buttons: but I did not touch them myself; the pedlars went themselves +and dug them up.' 'Wife, wife,' said Frederick, 'what a pretty piece of +work you have made! those yellow buttons were all my money: how came you +to do such a thing?' 'Why,' answered she, 'I did not know there was any +harm in it; you should have told me.' + +Catherine stood musing for a while, and at last said to her husband, +'Hark ye, Frederick, we will soon get the gold back: let us run after +the thieves.' 'Well, we will try,' answered he; 'but take some butter +and cheese with you, that we may have something to eat by the way.' +'Very well,' said she; and they set out: and as Frederick walked the +fastest, he left his wife some way behind. 'It does not matter,' thought +she: 'when we turn back, I shall be so much nearer home than he.' + +Presently she came to the top of a hill, down the side of which there +was a road so narrow that the cart wheels always chafed the trees +on each side as they passed. 'Ah, see now,' said she, 'how they have +bruised and wounded those poor trees; they will never get well.' So she +took pity on them, and made use of the butter to grease them all, so +that the wheels might not hurt them so much. While she was doing this +kind office one of her cheeses fell out of the basket, and rolled down +the hill. Catherine looked, but could not see where it had gone; so she +said, 'Well, I suppose the other will go the same way and find you; he +has younger legs than I have.' Then she rolled the other cheese after +it; and away it went, nobody knows where, down the hill. But she said +she supposed that they knew the road, and would follow her, and she +could not stay there all day waiting for them. + +At last she overtook Frederick, who desired her to give him something to +eat. Then she gave him the dry bread. 'Where are the butter and cheese?' +said he. 'Oh!' answered she, 'I used the butter to grease those poor +trees that the wheels chafed so: and one of the cheeses ran away so I +sent the other after it to find it, and I suppose they are both on +the road together somewhere.' 'What a goose you are to do such silly +things!' said the husband. 'How can you say so?' said she; 'I am sure +you never told me not.' + +They ate the dry bread together; and Frederick said, 'Kate, I hope you +locked the door safe when you came away.' 'No,' answered she, 'you did +not tell me.' 'Then go home, and do it now before we go any farther,' +said Frederick, 'and bring with you something to eat.' + +Catherine did as he told her, and thought to herself by the way, +'Frederick wants something to eat; but I don't think he is very fond of +butter and cheese: I'll bring him a bag of fine nuts, and the vinegar, +for I have often seen him take some.' + +When she reached home, she bolted the back door, but the front door she +took off the hinges, and said, 'Frederick told me to lock the door, but +surely it can nowhere be so safe if I take it with me.' So she took +her time by the way; and when she overtook her husband she cried +out, 'There, Frederick, there is the door itself, you may watch it as +carefully as you please.' 'Alas! alas!' said he, 'what a clever wife I +have! I sent you to make the house fast, and you take the door away, so +that everybody may go in and out as they please--however, as you have +brought the door, you shall carry it about with you for your pains.' +'Very well,' answered she, 'I'll carry the door; but I'll not carry the +nuts and vinegar bottle also--that would be too much of a load; so if +you please, I'll fasten them to the door.' + +Frederick of course made no objection to that plan, and they set off +into the wood to look for the thieves; but they could not find them: and +when it grew dark, they climbed up into a tree to spend the night there. +Scarcely were they up, than who should come by but the very rogues they +were looking for. They were in truth great rascals, and belonged to that +class of people who find things before they are lost; they were tired; +so they sat down and made a fire under the very tree where Frederick and +Catherine were. Frederick slipped down on the other side, and picked up +some stones. Then he climbed up again, and tried to hit the thieves on +the head with them: but they only said, 'It must be near morning, for +the wind shakes the fir-apples down.' + +Catherine, who had the door on her shoulder, began to be very tired; +but she thought it was the nuts upon it that were so heavy: so she said +softly, 'Frederick, I must let the nuts go.' 'No,' answered he, 'not +now, they will discover us.' 'I can't help that: they must go.' 'Well, +then, make haste and throw them down, if you will.' Then away rattled +the nuts down among the boughs and one of the thieves cried, 'Bless me, +it is hailing.' + +A little while after, Catherine thought the door was still very heavy: +so she whispered to Frederick, 'I must throw the vinegar down.' 'Pray +don't,' answered he, 'it will discover us.' 'I can't help that,' said +she, 'go it must.' So she poured all the vinegar down; and the thieves +said, 'What a heavy dew there is!' + +At last it popped into Catherine's head that it was the door itself that +was so heavy all the time: so she whispered, 'Frederick, I must throw +the door down soon.' But he begged and prayed her not to do so, for he +was sure it would betray them. 'Here goes, however,' said she: and down +went the door with such a clatter upon the thieves, that they cried +out 'Murder!' and not knowing what was coming, ran away as fast as they +could, and left all the gold. So when Frederick and Catherine came down, +there they found all their money safe and sound. + + + + +SWEETHEART ROLAND + +There was once upon a time a woman who was a real witch and had two +daughters, one ugly and wicked, and this one she loved because she was +her own daughter, and one beautiful and good, and this one she hated, +because she was her stepdaughter. The stepdaughter once had a pretty +apron, which the other fancied so much that she became envious, and +told her mother that she must and would have that apron. 'Be quiet, my +child,' said the old woman, 'and you shall have it. Your stepsister has +long deserved death; tonight when she is asleep I will come and cut her +head off. Only be careful that you are at the far side of the bed, and +push her well to the front.' It would have been all over with the poor +girl if she had not just then been standing in a corner, and heard +everything. All day long she dared not go out of doors, and when bedtime +had come, the witch's daughter got into bed first, so as to lie at the +far side, but when she was asleep, the other pushed her gently to the +front, and took for herself the place at the back, close by the wall. In +the night, the old woman came creeping in, she held an axe in her right +hand, and felt with her left to see if anyone were lying at the outside, +and then she grasped the axe with both hands, and cut her own child's +head off. + +When she had gone away, the girl got up and went to her sweetheart, who +was called Roland, and knocked at his door. When he came out, she said +to him: 'Listen, dearest Roland, we must fly in all haste; my stepmother +wanted to kill me, but has struck her own child. When daylight comes, +and she sees what she has done, we shall be lost.' 'But,' said Roland, +'I counsel you first to take away her magic wand, or we cannot escape +if she pursues us.' The maiden fetched the magic wand, and she took the +dead girl's head and dropped three drops of blood on the ground, one in +front of the bed, one in the kitchen, and one on the stairs. Then she +hurried away with her lover. + +When the old witch got up next morning, she called her daughter, and +wanted to give her the apron, but she did not come. Then the witch +cried: 'Where are you?' 'Here, on the stairs, I am sweeping,' answered +the first drop of blood. The old woman went out, but saw no one on the +stairs, and cried again: 'Where are you?' 'Here in the kitchen, I am +warming myself,' cried the second drop of blood. She went into the +kitchen, but found no one. Then she cried again: 'Where are you?' 'Ah, +here in the bed, I am sleeping,' cried the third drop of blood. She went +into the room to the bed. What did she see there? Her own child, +whose head she had cut off, bathed in her blood. The witch fell into +a passion, sprang to the window, and as she could look forth quite far +into the world, she perceived her stepdaughter hurrying away with her +sweetheart Roland. 'That shall not help you,' cried she, 'even if you +have got a long way off, you shall still not escape me.' She put on her +many-league boots, in which she covered an hour's walk at every step, +and it was not long before she overtook them. The girl, however, when +she saw the old woman striding towards her, changed, with her magic +wand, her sweetheart Roland into a lake, and herself into a duck +swimming in the middle of it. The witch placed herself on the shore, +threw breadcrumbs in, and went to endless trouble to entice the duck; +but the duck did not let herself be enticed, and the old woman had to +go home at night as she had come. At this the girl and her sweetheart +Roland resumed their natural shapes again, and they walked on the whole +night until daybreak. Then the maiden changed herself into a beautiful +flower which stood in the midst of a briar hedge, and her sweetheart +Roland into a fiddler. It was not long before the witch came striding up +towards them, and said to the musician: 'Dear musician, may I pluck that +beautiful flower for myself?' 'Oh, yes,' he replied, 'I will play to +you while you do it.' As she was hastily creeping into the hedge and was +just going to pluck the flower, knowing perfectly well who the flower +was, he began to play, and whether she would or not, she was forced +to dance, for it was a magical dance. The faster he played, the more +violent springs was she forced to make, and the thorns tore her clothes +from her body, and pricked her and wounded her till she bled, and as he +did not stop, she had to dance till she lay dead on the ground. + +As they were now set free, Roland said: 'Now I will go to my father and +arrange for the wedding.' 'Then in the meantime I will stay here and +wait for you,' said the girl, 'and that no one may recognize me, I will +change myself into a red stone landmark.' Then Roland went away, and the +girl stood like a red landmark in the field and waited for her beloved. +But when Roland got home, he fell into the snares of another, who so +fascinated him that he forgot the maiden. The poor girl remained there a +long time, but at length, as he did not return at all, she was sad, and +changed herself into a flower, and thought: 'Someone will surely come +this way, and trample me down.' + +It befell, however, that a shepherd kept his sheep in the field and saw +the flower, and as it was so pretty, plucked it, took it with him, and +laid it away in his chest. From that time forth, strange things happened +in the shepherd's house. When he arose in the morning, all the work was +already done, the room was swept, the table and benches cleaned, the +fire in the hearth was lighted, and the water was fetched, and at noon, +when he came home, the table was laid, and a good dinner served. He +could not conceive how this came to pass, for he never saw a human being +in his house, and no one could have concealed himself in it. He was +certainly pleased with this good attendance, but still at last he was so +afraid that he went to a wise woman and asked for her advice. The wise +woman said: 'There is some enchantment behind it, listen very early some +morning if anything is moving in the room, and if you see anything, no +matter what it is, throw a white cloth over it, and then the magic will +be stopped.' + +The shepherd did as she bade him, and next morning just as day dawned, +he saw the chest open, and the flower come out. Swiftly he +sprang towards it, and threw a white cloth over it. Instantly the +transformation came to an end, and a beautiful girl stood before him, +who admitted to him that she had been the flower, and that up to this +time she had attended to his house-keeping. She told him her story, +and as she pleased him he asked her if she would marry him, but she +answered: 'No,' for she wanted to remain faithful to her sweetheart +Roland, although he had deserted her. Nevertheless, she promised not to +go away, but to continue keeping house for the shepherd. + +And now the time drew near when Roland's wedding was to be celebrated, +and then, according to an old custom in the country, it was announced +that all the girls were to be present at it, and sing in honour of the +bridal pair. When the faithful maiden heard of this, she grew so sad +that she thought her heart would break, and she would not go thither, +but the other girls came and took her. When it came to her turn to sing, +she stepped back, until at last she was the only one left, and then she +could not refuse. But when she began her song, and it reached Roland's +ears, he sprang up and cried: 'I know the voice, that is the true +bride, I will have no other!' Everything he had forgotten, and which had +vanished from his mind, had suddenly come home again to his heart. Then +the faithful maiden held her wedding with her sweetheart Roland, and +grief came to an end and joy began. + + + + +SNOWDROP + +It was the middle of winter, when the broad flakes of snow were falling +around, that the queen of a country many thousand miles off sat working +at her window. The frame of the window was made of fine black ebony, and +as she sat looking out upon the snow, she pricked her finger, and three +drops of blood fell upon it. Then she gazed thoughtfully upon the red +drops that sprinkled the white snow, and said, 'Would that my little +daughter may be as white as that snow, as red as that blood, and as +black as this ebony windowframe!' And so the little girl really did grow +up; her skin was as white as snow, her cheeks as rosy as the blood, and +her hair as black as ebony; and she was called Snowdrop. + +But this queen died; and the king soon married another wife, who became +queen, and was very beautiful, but so vain that she could not bear +to think that anyone could be handsomer than she was. She had a fairy +looking-glass, to which she used to go, and then she would gaze upon +herself in it, and say: + + 'Tell me, glass, tell me true! + Of all the ladies in the land, + Who is fairest, tell me, who?' + +And the glass had always answered: + + 'Thou, queen, art the fairest in all the land.' + +But Snowdrop grew more and more beautiful; and when she was seven years +old she was as bright as the day, and fairer than the queen herself. +Then the glass one day answered the queen, when she went to look in it +as usual: + + 'Thou, queen, art fair, and beauteous to see, + But Snowdrop is lovelier far than thee!' + +When she heard this she turned pale with rage and envy, and called to +one of her servants, and said, 'Take Snowdrop away into the wide wood, +that I may never see her any more.' Then the servant led her away; but +his heart melted when Snowdrop begged him to spare her life, and he +said, 'I will not hurt you, thou pretty child.' So he left her by +herself; and though he thought it most likely that the wild beasts would +tear her in pieces, he felt as if a great weight were taken off his +heart when he had made up his mind not to kill her but to leave her to +her fate, with the chance of someone finding and saving her. + +Then poor Snowdrop wandered along through the wood in great fear; and +the wild beasts roared about her, but none did her any harm. In the +evening she came to a cottage among the hills, and went in to rest, for +her little feet would carry her no further. Everything was spruce and +neat in the cottage: on the table was spread a white cloth, and there +were seven little plates, seven little loaves, and seven little glasses +with wine in them; and seven knives and forks laid in order; and by +the wall stood seven little beds. As she was very hungry, she picked +a little piece of each loaf and drank a very little wine out of each +glass; and after that she thought she would lie down and rest. So she +tried all the little beds; but one was too long, and another was too +short, till at last the seventh suited her: and there she laid herself +down and went to sleep. + +By and by in came the masters of the cottage. Now they were seven little +dwarfs, that lived among the mountains, and dug and searched for gold. +They lighted up their seven lamps, and saw at once that all was not +right. The first said, 'Who has been sitting on my stool?' The second, +'Who has been eating off my plate?' The third, 'Who has been picking my +bread?' The fourth, 'Who has been meddling with my spoon?' The fifth, +'Who has been handling my fork?' The sixth, 'Who has been cutting with +my knife?' The seventh, 'Who has been drinking my wine?' Then the first +looked round and said, 'Who has been lying on my bed?' And the rest came +running to him, and everyone cried out that somebody had been upon his +bed. But the seventh saw Snowdrop, and called all his brethren to come +and see her; and they cried out with wonder and astonishment and brought +their lamps to look at her, and said, 'Good heavens! what a lovely child +she is!' And they were very glad to see her, and took care not to wake +her; and the seventh dwarf slept an hour with each of the other dwarfs +in turn, till the night was gone. + +In the morning Snowdrop told them all her story; and they pitied her, +and said if she would keep all things in order, and cook and wash and +knit and spin for them, she might stay where she was, and they would +take good care of her. Then they went out all day long to their work, +seeking for gold and silver in the mountains: but Snowdrop was left at +home; and they warned her, and said, 'The queen will soon find out where +you are, so take care and let no one in.' + +But the queen, now that she thought Snowdrop was dead, believed that she +must be the handsomest lady in the land; and she went to her glass and +said: + + 'Tell me, glass, tell me true! + Of all the ladies in the land, + Who is fairest, tell me, who?' + +And the glass answered: + + 'Thou, queen, art the fairest in all this land: + But over the hills, in the greenwood shade, + Where the seven dwarfs their dwelling have made, + There Snowdrop is hiding her head; and she + Is lovelier far, O queen! than thee.' + +Then the queen was very much frightened; for she knew that the glass +always spoke the truth, and was sure that the servant had betrayed her. +And she could not bear to think that anyone lived who was more beautiful +than she was; so she dressed herself up as an old pedlar, and went +her way over the hills, to the place where the dwarfs dwelt. Then she +knocked at the door, and cried, 'Fine wares to sell!' Snowdrop looked +out at the window, and said, 'Good day, good woman! what have you to +sell?' 'Good wares, fine wares,' said she; 'laces and bobbins of all +colours.' 'I will let the old lady in; she seems to be a very good +sort of body,' thought Snowdrop, as she ran down and unbolted the door. +'Bless me!' said the old woman, 'how badly your stays are laced! Let me +lace them up with one of my nice new laces.' Snowdrop did not dream of +any mischief; so she stood before the old woman; but she set to work +so nimbly, and pulled the lace so tight, that Snowdrop's breath was +stopped, and she fell down as if she were dead. 'There's an end to all +thy beauty,' said the spiteful queen, and went away home. + +In the evening the seven dwarfs came home; and I need not say how +grieved they were to see their faithful Snowdrop stretched out upon the +ground, as if she was quite dead. However, they lifted her up, and when +they found what ailed her, they cut the lace; and in a little time she +began to breathe, and very soon came to life again. Then they said, 'The +old woman was the queen herself; take care another time, and let no one +in when we are away.' + +When the queen got home, she went straight to her glass, and spoke to it +as before; but to her great grief it still said: + + 'Thou, queen, art the fairest in all this land: + But over the hills, in the greenwood shade, + Where the seven dwarfs their dwelling have made, + There Snowdrop is hiding her head; and she + Is lovelier far, O queen! than thee.' + +Then the blood ran cold in her heart with spite and malice, to see that +Snowdrop still lived; and she dressed herself up again, but in quite +another dress from the one she wore before, and took with her a poisoned +comb. When she reached the dwarfs' cottage, she knocked at the door, and +cried, 'Fine wares to sell!' But Snowdrop said, 'I dare not let anyone +in.' Then the queen said, 'Only look at my beautiful combs!' and gave +her the poisoned one. And it looked so pretty, that she took it up and +put it into her hair to try it; but the moment it touched her head, +the poison was so powerful that she fell down senseless. 'There you may +lie,' said the queen, and went her way. But by good luck the dwarfs +came in very early that evening; and when they saw Snowdrop lying on +the ground, they thought what had happened, and soon found the poisoned +comb. And when they took it away she got well, and told them all that +had passed; and they warned her once more not to open the door to +anyone. + +Meantime the queen went home to her glass, and shook with rage when she +read the very same answer as before; and she said, 'Snowdrop shall die, +if it cost me my life.' So she went by herself into her chamber, and got +ready a poisoned apple: the outside looked very rosy and tempting, but +whoever tasted it was sure to die. Then she dressed herself up as a +peasant's wife, and travelled over the hills to the dwarfs' cottage, +and knocked at the door; but Snowdrop put her head out of the window and +said, 'I dare not let anyone in, for the dwarfs have told me not.' 'Do +as you please,' said the old woman, 'but at any rate take this pretty +apple; I will give it you.' 'No,' said Snowdrop, 'I dare not take it.' +'You silly girl!' answered the other, 'what are you afraid of? Do you +think it is poisoned? Come! do you eat one part, and I will eat the +other.' Now the apple was so made up that one side was good, though the +other side was poisoned. Then Snowdrop was much tempted to taste, for +the apple looked so very nice; and when she saw the old woman eat, she +could wait no longer. But she had scarcely put the piece into her mouth, +when she fell down dead upon the ground. 'This time nothing will save +thee,' said the queen; and she went home to her glass, and at last it +said: + + 'Thou, queen, art the fairest of all the fair.' + +And then her wicked heart was glad, and as happy as such a heart could +be. + +When evening came, and the dwarfs had gone home, they found Snowdrop +lying on the ground: no breath came from her lips, and they were afraid +that she was quite dead. They lifted her up, and combed her hair, and +washed her face with wine and water; but all was in vain, for the little +girl seemed quite dead. So they laid her down upon a bier, and all seven +watched and bewailed her three whole days; and then they thought they +would bury her: but her cheeks were still rosy; and her face looked just +as it did while she was alive; so they said, 'We will never bury her in +the cold ground.' And they made a coffin of glass, so that they might +still look at her, and wrote upon it in golden letters what her name +was, and that she was a king's daughter. And the coffin was set among +the hills, and one of the dwarfs always sat by it and watched. And the +birds of the air came too, and bemoaned Snowdrop; and first of all came +an owl, and then a raven, and at last a dove, and sat by her side. + +And thus Snowdrop lay for a long, long time, and still only looked as +though she was asleep; for she was even now as white as snow, and as red +as blood, and as black as ebony. At last a prince came and called at the +dwarfs' house; and he saw Snowdrop, and read what was written in golden +letters. Then he offered the dwarfs money, and prayed and besought them +to let him take her away; but they said, 'We will not part with her for +all the gold in the world.' At last, however, they had pity on him, and +gave him the coffin; but the moment he lifted it up to carry it home +with him, the piece of apple fell from between her lips, and Snowdrop +awoke, and said, 'Where am I?' And the prince said, 'Thou art quite safe +with me.' + +Then he told her all that had happened, and said, 'I love you far better +than all the world; so come with me to my father's palace, and you shall +be my wife.' And Snowdrop consented, and went home with the prince; +and everything was got ready with great pomp and splendour for their +wedding. + +To the feast was asked, among the rest, Snowdrop's old enemy the queen; +and as she was dressing herself in fine rich clothes, she looked in the +glass and said: + + 'Tell me, glass, tell me true! + Of all the ladies in the land, + Who is fairest, tell me, who?' + +And the glass answered: + + 'Thou, lady, art loveliest here, I ween; + But lovelier far is the new-made queen.' + +When she heard this she started with rage; but her envy and curiosity +were so great, that she could not help setting out to see the bride. And +when she got there, and saw that it was no other than Snowdrop, who, as +she thought, had been dead a long while, she choked with rage, and fell +down and died: but Snowdrop and the prince lived and reigned happily +over that land many, many years; and sometimes they went up into the +mountains, and paid a visit to the little dwarfs, who had been so kind +to Snowdrop in her time of need. + + + + +THE PINK + +There was once upon a time a queen to whom God had given no children. +Every morning she went into the garden and prayed to God in heaven to +bestow on her a son or a daughter. Then an angel from heaven came to her +and said: 'Be at rest, you shall have a son with the power of wishing, +so that whatsoever in the world he wishes for, that shall he have.' Then +she went to the king, and told him the joyful tidings, and when the time +was come she gave birth to a son, and the king was filled with gladness. + +Every morning she went with the child to the garden where the wild +beasts were kept, and washed herself there in a clear stream. It +happened once when the child was a little older, that it was lying in +her arms and she fell asleep. Then came the old cook, who knew that the +child had the power of wishing, and stole it away, and he took a hen, +and cut it in pieces, and dropped some of its blood on the queen's apron +and on her dress. Then he carried the child away to a secret place, +where a nurse was obliged to suckle it, and he ran to the king and +accused the queen of having allowed her child to be taken from her by +the wild beasts. When the king saw the blood on her apron, he believed +this, fell into such a passion that he ordered a high tower to be built, +in which neither sun nor moon could be seen and had his wife put into +it, and walled up. Here she was to stay for seven years without meat +or drink, and die of hunger. But God sent two angels from heaven in the +shape of white doves, which flew to her twice a day, and carried her +food until the seven years were over. + +The cook, however, thought to himself: 'If the child has the power of +wishing, and I am here, he might very easily get me into trouble.' So +he left the palace and went to the boy, who was already big enough to +speak, and said to him: 'Wish for a beautiful palace for yourself with +a garden, and all else that pertains to it.' Scarcely were the words out +of the boy's mouth, when everything was there that he had wished for. +After a while the cook said to him: 'It is not well for you to be so +alone, wish for a pretty girl as a companion.' Then the king's son +wished for one, and she immediately stood before him, and was more +beautiful than any painter could have painted her. The two played +together, and loved each other with all their hearts, and the old cook +went out hunting like a nobleman. The thought occurred to him, however, +that the king's son might some day wish to be with his father, and thus +bring him into great peril. So he went out and took the maiden aside, +and said: 'Tonight when the boy is asleep, go to his bed and plunge this +knife into his heart, and bring me his heart and tongue, and if you do +not do it, you shall lose your life.' Thereupon he went away, and when +he returned next day she had not done it, and said: 'Why should I shed +the blood of an innocent boy who has never harmed anyone?' The cook once +more said: 'If you do not do it, it shall cost you your own life.' When +he had gone away, she had a little hind brought to her, and ordered her +to be killed, and took her heart and tongue, and laid them on a plate, +and when she saw the old man coming, she said to the boy: 'Lie down in +your bed, and draw the clothes over you.' Then the wicked wretch came in +and said: 'Where are the boy's heart and tongue?' The girl reached the +plate to him, but the king's son threw off the quilt, and said: 'You old +sinner, why did you want to kill me? Now will I pronounce thy sentence. +You shall become a black poodle and have a gold collar round your neck, +and shall eat burning coals, till the flames burst forth from your +throat.' And when he had spoken these words, the old man was changed +into a poodle dog, and had a gold collar round his neck, and the cooks +were ordered to bring up some live coals, and these he ate, until the +flames broke forth from his throat. The king's son remained there a +short while longer, and he thought of his mother, and wondered if she +were still alive. At length he said to the maiden: 'I will go home to my +own country; if you will go with me, I will provide for you.' 'Ah,' +she replied, 'the way is so long, and what shall I do in a strange land +where I am unknown?' As she did not seem quite willing, and as they +could not be parted from each other, he wished that she might be changed +into a beautiful pink, and took her with him. Then he went away to his +own country, and the poodle had to run after him. He went to the tower +in which his mother was confined, and as it was so high, he wished for +a ladder which would reach up to the very top. Then he mounted up and +looked inside, and cried: 'Beloved mother, Lady Queen, are you still +alive, or are you dead?' She answered: 'I have just eaten, and am still +satisfied,' for she thought the angels were there. Said he: 'I am your +dear son, whom the wild beasts were said to have torn from your arms; +but I am alive still, and will soon set you free.' Then he descended +again, and went to his father, and caused himself to be announced as a +strange huntsman, and asked if he could offer him service. The king said +yes, if he was skilful and could get game for him, he should come to +him, but that deer had never taken up their quarters in any part of the +district or country. Then the huntsman promised to procure as much game +for him as he could possibly use at the royal table. So he summoned all +the huntsmen together, and bade them go out into the forest with him. +And he went with them and made them form a great circle, open at one end +where he stationed himself, and began to wish. Two hundred deer and more +came running inside the circle at once, and the huntsmen shot them. +Then they were all placed on sixty country carts, and driven home to the +king, and for once he was able to deck his table with game, after having +had none at all for years. + +Now the king felt great joy at this, and commanded that his entire +household should eat with him next day, and made a great feast. When +they were all assembled together, he said to the huntsman: 'As you are +so clever, you shall sit by me.' He replied: 'Lord King, your majesty +must excuse me, I am a poor huntsman.' But the king insisted on it, +and said: 'You shall sit by me,' until he did it. Whilst he was sitting +there, he thought of his dearest mother, and wished that one of the +king's principal servants would begin to speak of her, and would ask how +it was faring with the queen in the tower, and if she were alive still, +or had perished. Hardly had he formed the wish than the marshal began, +and said: 'Your majesty, we live joyously here, but how is the queen +living in the tower? Is she still alive, or has she died?' But the king +replied: 'She let my dear son be torn to pieces by wild beasts; I will +not have her named.' Then the huntsman arose and said: 'Gracious lord +father she is alive still, and I am her son, and I was not carried away +by wild beasts, but by that wretch the old cook, who tore me from her +arms when she was asleep, and sprinkled her apron with the blood of a +chicken.' Thereupon he took the dog with the golden collar, and said: +'That is the wretch!' and caused live coals to be brought, and these the +dog was compelled to devour before the sight of all, until flames burst +forth from its throat. On this the huntsman asked the king if he would +like to see the dog in his true shape, and wished him back into the form +of the cook, in the which he stood immediately, with his white apron, +and his knife by his side. When the king saw him he fell into a passion, +and ordered him to be cast into the deepest dungeon. Then the huntsman +spoke further and said: 'Father, will you see the maiden who brought me +up so tenderly and who was afterwards to murder me, but did not do it, +though her own life depended on it?' The king replied: 'Yes, I would +like to see her.' The son said: 'Most gracious father, I will show her +to you in the form of a beautiful flower,' and he thrust his hand into +his pocket and brought forth the pink, and placed it on the royal table, +and it was so beautiful that the king had never seen one to equal it. +Then the son said: 'Now will I show her to you in her own form,' and +wished that she might become a maiden, and she stood there looking so +beautiful that no painter could have made her look more so. + +And the king sent two waiting-maids and two attendants into the tower, +to fetch the queen and bring her to the royal table. But when she was +led in she ate nothing, and said: 'The gracious and merciful God who has +supported me in the tower, will soon set me free.' She lived three days +more, and then died happily, and when she was buried, the two white +doves which had brought her food to the tower, and were angels of +heaven, followed her body and seated themselves on her grave. The aged +king ordered the cook to be torn in four pieces, but grief consumed the +king's own heart, and he soon died. His son married the beautiful maiden +whom he had brought with him as a flower in his pocket, and whether they +are still alive or not, is known to God. + + + + +CLEVER ELSIE + +There was once a man who had a daughter who was called Clever Elsie. And +when she had grown up her father said: 'We will get her married.' 'Yes,' +said the mother, 'if only someone would come who would have her.' At +length a man came from a distance and wooed her, who was called Hans; +but he stipulated that Clever Elsie should be really smart. 'Oh,' said +the father, 'she has plenty of good sense'; and the mother said: 'Oh, +she can see the wind coming up the street, and hear the flies coughing.' +'Well,' said Hans, 'if she is not really smart, I won't have her.' When +they were sitting at dinner and had eaten, the mother said: 'Elsie, go +into the cellar and fetch some beer.' Then Clever Elsie took the pitcher +from the wall, went into the cellar, and tapped the lid briskly as she +went, so that the time might not appear long. When she was below she +fetched herself a chair, and set it before the barrel so that she had +no need to stoop, and did not hurt her back or do herself any unexpected +injury. Then she placed the can before her, and turned the tap, and +while the beer was running she would not let her eyes be idle, but +looked up at the wall, and after much peering here and there, saw a +pick-axe exactly above her, which the masons had accidentally left +there. + +Then Clever Elsie began to weep and said: 'If I get Hans, and we have +a child, and he grows big, and we send him into the cellar here to draw +beer, then the pick-axe will fall on his head and kill him.' Then she +sat and wept and screamed with all the strength of her body, over the +misfortune which lay before her. Those upstairs waited for the drink, +but Clever Elsie still did not come. Then the woman said to the servant: +'Just go down into the cellar and see where Elsie is.' The maid went and +found her sitting in front of the barrel, screaming loudly. 'Elsie why +do you weep?' asked the maid. 'Ah,' she answered, 'have I not reason to +weep? If I get Hans, and we have a child, and he grows big, and has to +draw beer here, the pick-axe will perhaps fall on his head, and kill +him.' Then said the maid: 'What a clever Elsie we have!' and sat down +beside her and began loudly to weep over the misfortune. After a while, +as the maid did not come back, and those upstairs were thirsty for the +beer, the man said to the boy: 'Just go down into the cellar and see +where Elsie and the girl are.' The boy went down, and there sat Clever +Elsie and the girl both weeping together. Then he asked: 'Why are you +weeping?' 'Ah,' said Elsie, 'have I not reason to weep? If I get Hans, +and we have a child, and he grows big, and has to draw beer here, the +pick-axe will fall on his head and kill him.' Then said the boy: 'What +a clever Elsie we have!' and sat down by her, and likewise began to +howl loudly. Upstairs they waited for the boy, but as he still did not +return, the man said to the woman: 'Just go down into the cellar and see +where Elsie is!' The woman went down, and found all three in the midst +of their lamentations, and inquired what was the cause; then Elsie told +her also that her future child was to be killed by the pick-axe, when it +grew big and had to draw beer, and the pick-axe fell down. Then said the +mother likewise: 'What a clever Elsie we have!' and sat down and wept +with them. The man upstairs waited a short time, but as his wife did not +come back and his thirst grew ever greater, he said: 'I must go into the +cellar myself and see where Elsie is.' But when he got into the cellar, +and they were all sitting together crying, and he heard the reason, and +that Elsie's child was the cause, and the Elsie might perhaps bring one +into the world some day, and that he might be killed by the pick-axe, if +he should happen to be sitting beneath it, drawing beer just at the very +time when it fell down, he cried: 'Oh, what a clever Elsie!' and sat +down, and likewise wept with them. The bridegroom stayed upstairs alone +for a long time; then as no one would come back he thought: 'They must be +waiting for me below: I too must go there and see what they are about.' +When he got down, the five of them were sitting screaming and lamenting +quite piteously, each out-doing the other. 'What misfortune has happened +then?' asked he. 'Ah, dear Hans,' said Elsie, 'if we marry each other +and have a child, and he is big, and we perhaps send him here to draw +something to drink, then the pick-axe which has been left up there might +dash his brains out if it were to fall down, so have we not reason to +weep?' 'Come,' said Hans, 'more understanding than that is not needed +for my household, as you are such a clever Elsie, I will have you,' and +seized her hand, took her upstairs with him, and married her. + +After Hans had had her some time, he said: 'Wife, I am going out to work +and earn some money for us; go into the field and cut the corn that we +may have some bread.' 'Yes, dear Hans, I will do that.' After Hans had +gone away, she cooked herself some good broth and took it into the field +with her. When she came to the field she said to herself: 'What shall I +do; shall I cut first, or shall I eat first? Oh, I will eat first.' Then +she drank her cup of broth and when she was fully satisfied, she once +more said: 'What shall I do? Shall I cut first, or shall I sleep first? +I will sleep first.' Then she lay down among the corn and fell asleep. +Hans had been at home for a long time, but Elsie did not come; then said +he: 'What a clever Elsie I have; she is so industrious that she does not +even come home to eat.' But when evening came and she still stayed away, +Hans went out to see what she had cut, but nothing was cut, and she +was lying among the corn asleep. Then Hans hastened home and brought +a fowler's net with little bells and hung it round about her, and she +still went on sleeping. Then he ran home, shut the house-door, and sat +down in his chair and worked. At length, when it was quite dark, Clever +Elsie awoke and when she got up there was a jingling all round about +her, and the bells rang at each step which she took. Then she was +alarmed, and became uncertain whether she really was Clever Elsie or +not, and said: 'Is it I, or is it not I?' But she knew not what answer +to make to this, and stood for a time in doubt; at length she thought: +'I will go home and ask if it be I, or if it be not I, they will be sure +to know.' She ran to the door of her own house, but it was shut; then +she knocked at the window and cried: 'Hans, is Elsie within?' 'Yes,' +answered Hans, 'she is within.' Hereupon she was terrified, and said: +'Ah, heavens! Then it is not I,' and went to another door; but when the +people heard the jingling of the bells they would not open it, and she +could get in nowhere. Then she ran out of the village, and no one has +seen her since. + + + + +THE MISER IN THE BUSH + +A farmer had a faithful and diligent servant, who had worked hard for +him three years, without having been paid any wages. At last it came +into the man's head that he would not go on thus without pay any longer; +so he went to his master, and said, 'I have worked hard for you a long +time, I will trust to you to give me what I deserve to have for my +trouble.' The farmer was a sad miser, and knew that his man was very +simple-hearted; so he took out threepence, and gave him for every year's +service a penny. The poor fellow thought it was a great deal of money to +have, and said to himself, 'Why should I work hard, and live here on bad +fare any longer? I can now travel into the wide world, and make myself +merry.' With that he put his money into his purse, and set out, roaming +over hill and valley. + +As he jogged along over the fields, singing and dancing, a little dwarf +met him, and asked him what made him so merry. 'Why, what should make +me down-hearted?' said he; 'I am sound in health and rich in purse, what +should I care for? I have saved up my three years' earnings and have it +all safe in my pocket.' 'How much may it come to?' said the little man. +'Full threepence,' replied the countryman. 'I wish you would give them +to me,' said the other; 'I am very poor.' Then the man pitied him, and +gave him all he had; and the little dwarf said in return, 'As you have +such a kind honest heart, I will grant you three wishes--one for every +penny; so choose whatever you like.' Then the countryman rejoiced at +his good luck, and said, 'I like many things better than money: first, I +will have a bow that will bring down everything I shoot at; secondly, +a fiddle that will set everyone dancing that hears me play upon it; and +thirdly, I should like that everyone should grant what I ask.' The dwarf +said he should have his three wishes; so he gave him the bow and fiddle, +and went his way. + +Our honest friend journeyed on his way too; and if he was merry before, +he was now ten times more so. He had not gone far before he met an old +miser: close by them stood a tree, and on the topmost twig sat a thrush +singing away most joyfully. 'Oh, what a pretty bird!' said the miser; 'I +would give a great deal of money to have such a one.' 'If that's all,' +said the countryman, 'I will soon bring it down.' Then he took up his +bow, and down fell the thrush into the bushes at the foot of the tree. +The miser crept into the bush to find it; but directly he had got into +the middle, his companion took up his fiddle and played away, and the +miser began to dance and spring about, capering higher and higher in +the air. The thorns soon began to tear his clothes till they all hung +in rags about him, and he himself was all scratched and wounded, so that +the blood ran down. 'Oh, for heaven's sake!' cried the miser, 'Master! +master! pray let the fiddle alone. What have I done to deserve this?' +'Thou hast shaved many a poor soul close enough,' said the other; 'thou +art only meeting thy reward': so he played up another tune. Then the +miser began to beg and promise, and offered money for his liberty; but +he did not come up to the musician's price for some time, and he danced +him along brisker and brisker, and the miser bid higher and higher, till +at last he offered a round hundred of florins that he had in his purse, +and had just gained by cheating some poor fellow. When the countryman +saw so much money, he said, 'I will agree to your proposal.' So he took +the purse, put up his fiddle, and travelled on very pleased with his +bargain. + +Meanwhile the miser crept out of the bush half-naked and in a piteous +plight, and began to ponder how he should take his revenge, and serve +his late companion some trick. At last he went to the judge, and +complained that a rascal had robbed him of his money, and beaten him +into the bargain; and that the fellow who did it carried a bow at his +back and a fiddle hung round his neck. Then the judge sent out his +officers to bring up the accused wherever they should find him; and he +was soon caught and brought up to be tried. + +The miser began to tell his tale, and said he had been robbed of +his money. 'No, you gave it me for playing a tune to you.' said the +countryman; but the judge told him that was not likely, and cut the +matter short by ordering him off to the gallows. + +So away he was taken; but as he stood on the steps he said, 'My Lord +Judge, grant me one last request.' 'Anything but thy life,' replied the +other. 'No,' said he, 'I do not ask my life; only to let me play upon +my fiddle for the last time.' The miser cried out, 'Oh, no! no! for +heaven's sake don't listen to him! don't listen to him!' But the judge +said, 'It is only this once, he will soon have done.' The fact was, he +could not refuse the request, on account of the dwarf's third gift. + +Then the miser said, 'Bind me fast, bind me fast, for pity's sake.' But +the countryman seized his fiddle, and struck up a tune, and at the first +note judge, clerks, and jailer were in motion; all began capering, and +no one could hold the miser. At the second note the hangman let his +prisoner go, and danced also, and by the time he had played the first +bar of the tune, all were dancing together--judge, court, and miser, and +all the people who had followed to look on. At first the thing was merry +and pleasant enough; but when it had gone on a while, and there seemed +to be no end of playing or dancing, they began to cry out, and beg him +to leave off; but he stopped not a whit the more for their entreaties, +till the judge not only gave him his life, but promised to return him +the hundred florins. + +Then he called to the miser, and said, 'Tell us now, you vagabond, where +you got that gold, or I shall play on for your amusement only,' 'I stole +it,' said the miser in the presence of all the people; 'I acknowledge +that I stole it, and that you earned it fairly.' Then the countryman +stopped his fiddle, and left the miser to take his place at the gallows. + + + + +ASHPUTTEL + +The wife of a rich man fell sick; and when she felt that her end drew +nigh, she called her only daughter to her bed-side, and said, 'Always be +a good girl, and I will look down from heaven and watch over you.' Soon +afterwards she shut her eyes and died, and was buried in the garden; +and the little girl went every day to her grave and wept, and was always +good and kind to all about her. And the snow fell and spread a beautiful +white covering over the grave; but by the time the spring came, and the +sun had melted it away again, her father had married another wife. This +new wife had two daughters of her own, that she brought home with her; +they were fair in face but foul at heart, and it was now a sorry time +for the poor little girl. 'What does the good-for-nothing want in the +parlour?' said they; 'they who would eat bread should first earn it; +away with the kitchen-maid!' Then they took away her fine clothes, and +gave her an old grey frock to put on, and laughed at her, and turned her +into the kitchen. + +There she was forced to do hard work; to rise early before daylight, to +bring the water, to make the fire, to cook and to wash. Besides that, +the sisters plagued her in all sorts of ways, and laughed at her. In the +evening when she was tired, she had no bed to lie down on, but was made +to lie by the hearth among the ashes; and as this, of course, made her +always dusty and dirty, they called her Ashputtel. + +It happened once that the father was going to the fair, and asked his +wife's daughters what he should bring them. 'Fine clothes,' said the +first; 'Pearls and diamonds,' cried the second. 'Now, child,' said he +to his own daughter, 'what will you have?' 'The first twig, dear +father, that brushes against your hat when you turn your face to come +homewards,' said she. Then he bought for the first two the fine clothes +and pearls and diamonds they had asked for: and on his way home, as he +rode through a green copse, a hazel twig brushed against him, and almost +pushed off his hat: so he broke it off and brought it away; and when he +got home he gave it to his daughter. Then she took it, and went to +her mother's grave and planted it there; and cried so much that it was +watered with her tears; and there it grew and became a fine tree. Three +times every day she went to it and cried; and soon a little bird came +and built its nest upon the tree, and talked with her, and watched over +her, and brought her whatever she wished for. + +Now it happened that the king of that land held a feast, which was to +last three days; and out of those who came to it his son was to choose +a bride for himself. Ashputtel's two sisters were asked to come; so they +called her up, and said, 'Now, comb our hair, brush our shoes, and tie +our sashes for us, for we are going to dance at the king's feast.' +Then she did as she was told; but when all was done she could not help +crying, for she thought to herself, she should so have liked to have +gone with them to the ball; and at last she begged her mother very hard +to let her go. 'You, Ashputtel!' said she; 'you who have nothing to +wear, no clothes at all, and who cannot even dance--you want to go to +the ball? And when she kept on begging, she said at last, to get rid of +her, 'I will throw this dishful of peas into the ash-heap, and if in +two hours' time you have picked them all out, you shall go to the feast +too.' + +Then she threw the peas down among the ashes, but the little maiden ran +out at the back door into the garden, and cried out: + + 'Hither, hither, through the sky, + Turtle-doves and linnets, fly! + Blackbird, thrush, and chaffinch gay, + Hither, hither, haste away! + One and all come help me, quick! + Haste ye, haste ye!--pick, pick, pick!' + +Then first came two white doves, flying in at the kitchen window; next +came two turtle-doves; and after them came all the little birds under +heaven, chirping and fluttering in: and they flew down into the ashes. +And the little doves stooped their heads down and set to work, pick, +pick, pick; and then the others began to pick, pick, pick: and among +them all they soon picked out all the good grain, and put it into a dish +but left the ashes. Long before the end of the hour the work was quite +done, and all flew out again at the windows. + +Then Ashputtel brought the dish to her mother, overjoyed at the thought +that now she should go to the ball. But the mother said, 'No, no! you +slut, you have no clothes, and cannot dance; you shall not go.' And when +Ashputtel begged very hard to go, she said, 'If you can in one hour's +time pick two of those dishes of peas out of the ashes, you shall go +too.' And thus she thought she should at least get rid of her. So she +shook two dishes of peas into the ashes. + +But the little maiden went out into the garden at the back of the house, +and cried out as before: + + 'Hither, hither, through the sky, + Turtle-doves and linnets, fly! + Blackbird, thrush, and chaffinch gay, + Hither, hither, haste away! + One and all come help me, quick! + Haste ye, haste ye!--pick, pick, pick!' + +Then first came two white doves in at the kitchen window; next came two +turtle-doves; and after them came all the little birds under heaven, +chirping and hopping about. And they flew down into the ashes; and the +little doves put their heads down and set to work, pick, pick, pick; and +then the others began pick, pick, pick; and they put all the good grain +into the dishes, and left all the ashes. Before half an hour's time all +was done, and out they flew again. And then Ashputtel took the dishes to +her mother, rejoicing to think that she should now go to the ball. +But her mother said, 'It is all of no use, you cannot go; you have no +clothes, and cannot dance, and you would only put us to shame': and off +she went with her two daughters to the ball. + +Now when all were gone, and nobody left at home, Ashputtel went +sorrowfully and sat down under the hazel-tree, and cried out: + + 'Shake, shake, hazel-tree, + Gold and silver over me!' + +Then her friend the bird flew out of the tree, and brought a gold and +silver dress for her, and slippers of spangled silk; and she put them +on, and followed her sisters to the feast. But they did not know her, +and thought it must be some strange princess, she looked so fine and +beautiful in her rich clothes; and they never once thought of Ashputtel, +taking it for granted that she was safe at home in the dirt. + +The king's son soon came up to her, and took her by the hand and danced +with her, and no one else: and he never left her hand; but when anyone +else came to ask her to dance, he said, 'This lady is dancing with me.' + +Thus they danced till a late hour of the night; and then she wanted to +go home: and the king's son said, 'I shall go and take care of you to +your home'; for he wanted to see where the beautiful maiden lived. But +she slipped away from him, unawares, and ran off towards home; and as +the prince followed her, she jumped up into the pigeon-house and shut +the door. Then he waited till her father came home, and told him that +the unknown maiden, who had been at the feast, had hid herself in the +pigeon-house. But when they had broken open the door they found no one +within; and as they came back into the house, Ashputtel was lying, as +she always did, in her dirty frock by the ashes, and her dim little +lamp was burning in the chimney. For she had run as quickly as she could +through the pigeon-house and on to the hazel-tree, and had there taken +off her beautiful clothes, and put them beneath the tree, that the bird +might carry them away, and had lain down again amid the ashes in her +little grey frock. + +The next day when the feast was again held, and her father, mother, and +sisters were gone, Ashputtel went to the hazel-tree, and said: + + 'Shake, shake, hazel-tree, + Gold and silver over me!' + +And the bird came and brought a still finer dress than the one she +had worn the day before. And when she came in it to the ball, everyone +wondered at her beauty: but the king's son, who was waiting for her, +took her by the hand, and danced with her; and when anyone asked her to +dance, he said as before, 'This lady is dancing with me.' + +When night came she wanted to go home; and the king's son followed here +as before, that he might see into what house she went: but she sprang +away from him all at once into the garden behind her father's house. +In this garden stood a fine large pear-tree full of ripe fruit; and +Ashputtel, not knowing where to hide herself, jumped up into it without +being seen. Then the king's son lost sight of her, and could not find +out where she was gone, but waited till her father came home, and said +to him, 'The unknown lady who danced with me has slipped away, and I +think she must have sprung into the pear-tree.' The father thought to +himself, 'Can it be Ashputtel?' So he had an axe brought; and they cut +down the tree, but found no one upon it. And when they came back into +the kitchen, there lay Ashputtel among the ashes; for she had slipped +down on the other side of the tree, and carried her beautiful clothes +back to the bird at the hazel-tree, and then put on her little grey +frock. + +The third day, when her father and mother and sisters were gone, she +went again into the garden, and said: + + 'Shake, shake, hazel-tree, + Gold and silver over me!' + +Then her kind friend the bird brought a dress still finer than the +former one, and slippers which were all of gold: so that when she came +to the feast no one knew what to say, for wonder at her beauty: and the +king's son danced with nobody but her; and when anyone else asked her to +dance, he said, 'This lady is _my_ partner, sir.' + +When night came she wanted to go home; and the king's son would go with +her, and said to himself, 'I will not lose her this time'; but, however, +she again slipped away from him, though in such a hurry that she dropped +her left golden slipper upon the stairs. + +The prince took the shoe, and went the next day to the king his father, +and said, 'I will take for my wife the lady that this golden slipper +fits.' Then both the sisters were overjoyed to hear it; for they +had beautiful feet, and had no doubt that they could wear the golden +slipper. The eldest went first into the room where the slipper was, and +wanted to try it on, and the mother stood by. But her great toe could +not go into it, and the shoe was altogether much too small for her. Then +the mother gave her a knife, and said, 'Never mind, cut it off; when you +are queen you will not care about toes; you will not want to walk.' So +the silly girl cut off her great toe, and thus squeezed on the shoe, +and went to the king's son. Then he took her for his bride, and set her +beside him on his horse, and rode away with her homewards. + +But on their way home they had to pass by the hazel-tree that Ashputtel +had planted; and on the branch sat a little dove singing: + + 'Back again! back again! look to the shoe! + The shoe is too small, and not made for you! + Prince! prince! look again for thy bride, + For she's not the true one that sits by thy side.' + +Then the prince got down and looked at her foot; and he saw, by the +blood that streamed from it, what a trick she had played him. So he +turned his horse round, and brought the false bride back to her home, +and said, 'This is not the right bride; let the other sister try and put +on the slipper.' Then she went into the room and got her foot into the +shoe, all but the heel, which was too large. But her mother squeezed it +in till the blood came, and took her to the king's son: and he set her +as his bride by his side on his horse, and rode away with her. + +But when they came to the hazel-tree the little dove sat there still, +and sang: + + 'Back again! back again! look to the shoe! + The shoe is too small, and not made for you! + Prince! prince! look again for thy bride, + For she's not the true one that sits by thy side.' + +Then he looked down, and saw that the blood streamed so much from the +shoe, that her white stockings were quite red. So he turned his horse +and brought her also back again. 'This is not the true bride,' said he +to the father; 'have you no other daughters?' 'No,' said he; 'there is +only a little dirty Ashputtel here, the child of my first wife; I am +sure she cannot be the bride.' The prince told him to send her. But the +mother said, 'No, no, she is much too dirty; she will not dare to show +herself.' However, the prince would have her come; and she first washed +her face and hands, and then went in and curtsied to him, and he reached +her the golden slipper. Then she took her clumsy shoe off her left foot, +and put on the golden slipper; and it fitted her as if it had been made +for her. And when he drew near and looked at her face he knew her, and +said, 'This is the right bride.' But the mother and both the sisters +were frightened, and turned pale with anger as he took Ashputtel on his +horse, and rode away with her. And when they came to the hazel-tree, the +white dove sang: + + 'Home! home! look at the shoe! + Princess! the shoe was made for you! + Prince! prince! take home thy bride, + For she is the true one that sits by thy side!' + +And when the dove had done its song, it came flying, and perched upon +her right shoulder, and so went home with her. + + + + +THE WHITE SNAKE + +A long time ago there lived a king who was famed for his wisdom through +all the land. Nothing was hidden from him, and it seemed as if news of +the most secret things was brought to him through the air. But he had a +strange custom; every day after dinner, when the table was cleared, +and no one else was present, a trusty servant had to bring him one more +dish. It was covered, however, and even the servant did not know what +was in it, neither did anyone know, for the king never took off the +cover to eat of it until he was quite alone. + +This had gone on for a long time, when one day the servant, who took +away the dish, was overcome with such curiosity that he could not help +carrying the dish into his room. When he had carefully locked the door, +he lifted up the cover, and saw a white snake lying on the dish. But +when he saw it he could not deny himself the pleasure of tasting it, +so he cut of a little bit and put it into his mouth. No sooner had it +touched his tongue than he heard a strange whispering of little voices +outside his window. He went and listened, and then noticed that it was +the sparrows who were chattering together, and telling one another of +all kinds of things which they had seen in the fields and woods. Eating +the snake had given him power of understanding the language of animals. + +Now it so happened that on this very day the queen lost her most +beautiful ring, and suspicion of having stolen it fell upon this trusty +servant, who was allowed to go everywhere. The king ordered the man to +be brought before him, and threatened with angry words that unless he +could before the morrow point out the thief, he himself should be looked +upon as guilty and executed. In vain he declared his innocence; he was +dismissed with no better answer. + +In his trouble and fear he went down into the courtyard and took thought +how to help himself out of his trouble. Now some ducks were sitting +together quietly by a brook and taking their rest; and, whilst they +were making their feathers smooth with their bills, they were having a +confidential conversation together. The servant stood by and listened. +They were telling one another of all the places where they had been +waddling about all the morning, and what good food they had found; and +one said in a pitiful tone: 'Something lies heavy on my stomach; as +I was eating in haste I swallowed a ring which lay under the queen's +window.' The servant at once seized her by the neck, carried her to the +kitchen, and said to the cook: 'Here is a fine duck; pray, kill her.' +'Yes,' said the cook, and weighed her in his hand; 'she has spared +no trouble to fatten herself, and has been waiting to be roasted long +enough.' So he cut off her head, and as she was being dressed for the +spit, the queen's ring was found inside her. + +The servant could now easily prove his innocence; and the king, to make +amends for the wrong, allowed him to ask a favour, and promised him +the best place in the court that he could wish for. The servant refused +everything, and only asked for a horse and some money for travelling, as +he had a mind to see the world and go about a little. When his request +was granted he set out on his way, and one day came to a pond, where he +saw three fishes caught in the reeds and gasping for water. Now, though +it is said that fishes are dumb, he heard them lamenting that they must +perish so miserably, and, as he had a kind heart, he got off his +horse and put the three prisoners back into the water. They leapt with +delight, put out their heads, and cried to him: 'We will remember you +and repay you for saving us!' + +He rode on, and after a while it seemed to him that he heard a voice in +the sand at his feet. He listened, and heard an ant-king complain: 'Why +cannot folks, with their clumsy beasts, keep off our bodies? That stupid +horse, with his heavy hoofs, has been treading down my people without +mercy!' So he turned on to a side path and the ant-king cried out to +him: 'We will remember you--one good turn deserves another!' + +The path led him into a wood, and there he saw two old ravens standing +by their nest, and throwing out their young ones. 'Out with you, you +idle, good-for-nothing creatures!' cried they; 'we cannot find food for +you any longer; you are big enough, and can provide for yourselves.' +But the poor young ravens lay upon the ground, flapping their wings, and +crying: 'Oh, what helpless chicks we are! We must shift for ourselves, +and yet we cannot fly! What can we do, but lie here and starve?' So the +good young fellow alighted and killed his horse with his sword, and gave +it to them for food. Then they came hopping up to it, satisfied their +hunger, and cried: 'We will remember you--one good turn deserves +another!' + +And now he had to use his own legs, and when he had walked a long +way, he came to a large city. There was a great noise and crowd in +the streets, and a man rode up on horseback, crying aloud: 'The king's +daughter wants a husband; but whoever seeks her hand must perform a hard +task, and if he does not succeed he will forfeit his life.' Many had +already made the attempt, but in vain; nevertheless when the youth +saw the king's daughter he was so overcome by her great beauty that he +forgot all danger, went before the king, and declared himself a suitor. + +So he was led out to the sea, and a gold ring was thrown into it, before +his eyes; then the king ordered him to fetch this ring up from the +bottom of the sea, and added: 'If you come up again without it you will +be thrown in again and again until you perish amid the waves.' All the +people grieved for the handsome youth; then they went away, leaving him +alone by the sea. + +He stood on the shore and considered what he should do, when suddenly +he saw three fishes come swimming towards him, and they were the very +fishes whose lives he had saved. The one in the middle held a mussel in +its mouth, which it laid on the shore at the youth's feet, and when he +had taken it up and opened it, there lay the gold ring in the shell. +Full of joy he took it to the king and expected that he would grant him +the promised reward. + +But when the proud princess perceived that he was not her equal in +birth, she scorned him, and required him first to perform another +task. She went down into the garden and strewed with her own hands ten +sacksful of millet-seed on the grass; then she said: 'Tomorrow morning +before sunrise these must be picked up, and not a single grain be +wanting.' + +The youth sat down in the garden and considered how it might be possible +to perform this task, but he could think of nothing, and there he sat +sorrowfully awaiting the break of day, when he should be led to death. +But as soon as the first rays of the sun shone into the garden he saw +all the ten sacks standing side by side, quite full, and not a single +grain was missing. The ant-king had come in the night with thousands +and thousands of ants, and the grateful creatures had by great industry +picked up all the millet-seed and gathered them into the sacks. + +Presently the king's daughter herself came down into the garden, and was +amazed to see that the young man had done the task she had given him. +But she could not yet conquer her proud heart, and said: 'Although he +has performed both the tasks, he shall not be my husband until he had +brought me an apple from the Tree of Life.' The youth did not know where +the Tree of Life stood, but he set out, and would have gone on for ever, +as long as his legs would carry him, though he had no hope of finding +it. After he had wandered through three kingdoms, he came one evening to +a wood, and lay down under a tree to sleep. But he heard a rustling in +the branches, and a golden apple fell into his hand. At the same time +three ravens flew down to him, perched themselves upon his knee, and +said: 'We are the three young ravens whom you saved from starving; when +we had grown big, and heard that you were seeking the Golden Apple, +we flew over the sea to the end of the world, where the Tree of Life +stands, and have brought you the apple.' The youth, full of joy, set out +homewards, and took the Golden Apple to the king's beautiful daughter, +who had now no more excuses left to make. They cut the Apple of Life in +two and ate it together; and then her heart became full of love for him, +and they lived in undisturbed happiness to a great age. + + + + +THE WOLF AND THE SEVEN LITTLE KIDS + +There was once upon a time an old goat who had seven little kids, and +loved them with all the love of a mother for her children. One day she +wanted to go into the forest and fetch some food. So she called all +seven to her and said: 'Dear children, I have to go into the forest, +be on your guard against the wolf; if he comes in, he will devour you +all--skin, hair, and everything. The wretch often disguises himself, but +you will know him at once by his rough voice and his black feet.' The +kids said: 'Dear mother, we will take good care of ourselves; you may go +away without any anxiety.' Then the old one bleated, and went on her way +with an easy mind. + +It was not long before someone knocked at the house-door and called: +'Open the door, dear children; your mother is here, and has brought +something back with her for each of you.' But the little kids knew that +it was the wolf, by the rough voice. 'We will not open the door,' cried +they, 'you are not our mother. She has a soft, pleasant voice, but +your voice is rough; you are the wolf!' Then the wolf went away to a +shopkeeper and bought himself a great lump of chalk, ate this and made +his voice soft with it. Then he came back, knocked at the door of the +house, and called: 'Open the door, dear children, your mother is here +and has brought something back with her for each of you.' But the wolf +had laid his black paws against the window, and the children saw them +and cried: 'We will not open the door, our mother has not black feet +like you: you are the wolf!' Then the wolf ran to a baker and said: 'I +have hurt my feet, rub some dough over them for me.' And when the baker +had rubbed his feet over, he ran to the miller and said: 'Strew some +white meal over my feet for me.' The miller thought to himself: 'The +wolf wants to deceive someone,' and refused; but the wolf said: 'If you +will not do it, I will devour you.' Then the miller was afraid, and made +his paws white for him. Truly, this is the way of mankind. + +So now the wretch went for the third time to the house-door, knocked at +it and said: 'Open the door for me, children, your dear little mother +has come home, and has brought every one of you something back from the +forest with her.' The little kids cried: 'First show us your paws that +we may know if you are our dear little mother.' Then he put his paws +in through the window and when the kids saw that they were white, they +believed that all he said was true, and opened the door. But who should +come in but the wolf! They were terrified and wanted to hide themselves. +One sprang under the table, the second into the bed, the third into the +stove, the fourth into the kitchen, the fifth into the cupboard, the +sixth under the washing-bowl, and the seventh into the clock-case. But +the wolf found them all, and used no great ceremony; one after the +other he swallowed them down his throat. The youngest, who was in +the clock-case, was the only one he did not find. When the wolf had +satisfied his appetite he took himself off, laid himself down under a +tree in the green meadow outside, and began to sleep. Soon afterwards +the old goat came home again from the forest. Ah! what a sight she saw +there! The house-door stood wide open. The table, chairs, and benches +were thrown down, the washing-bowl lay broken to pieces, and the quilts +and pillows were pulled off the bed. She sought her children, but they +were nowhere to be found. She called them one after another by name, but +no one answered. At last, when she came to the youngest, a soft voice +cried: 'Dear mother, I am in the clock-case.' She took the kid out, and +it told her that the wolf had come and had eaten all the others. Then +you may imagine how she wept over her poor children. + +At length in her grief she went out, and the youngest kid ran with her. +When they came to the meadow, there lay the wolf by the tree and snored +so loud that the branches shook. She looked at him on every side and +saw that something was moving and struggling in his gorged belly. 'Ah, +heavens,' she said, 'is it possible that my poor children whom he has +swallowed down for his supper, can be still alive?' Then the kid had to +run home and fetch scissors, and a needle and thread, and the goat cut +open the monster's stomach, and hardly had she made one cut, than one +little kid thrust its head out, and when she had cut farther, all six +sprang out one after another, and were all still alive, and had suffered +no injury whatever, for in his greediness the monster had swallowed them +down whole. What rejoicing there was! They embraced their dear mother, +and jumped like a tailor at his wedding. The mother, however, said: 'Now +go and look for some big stones, and we will fill the wicked beast's +stomach with them while he is still asleep.' Then the seven kids dragged +the stones thither with all speed, and put as many of them into this +stomach as they could get in; and the mother sewed him up again in the +greatest haste, so that he was not aware of anything and never once +stirred. + +When the wolf at length had had his fill of sleep, he got on his legs, +and as the stones in his stomach made him very thirsty, he wanted to +go to a well to drink. But when he began to walk and to move about, the +stones in his stomach knocked against each other and rattled. Then cried +he: + + 'What rumbles and tumbles + Against my poor bones? + I thought 'twas six kids, + But it feels like big stones.' + +And when he got to the well and stooped over the water to drink, the +heavy stones made him fall in, and he drowned miserably. When the seven +kids saw that, they came running to the spot and cried aloud: 'The wolf +is dead! The wolf is dead!' and danced for joy round about the well with +their mother. + + + + +THE QUEEN BEE + +Two kings' sons once upon a time went into the world to seek their +fortunes; but they soon fell into a wasteful foolish way of living, so +that they could not return home again. Then their brother, who was a +little insignificant dwarf, went out to seek for his brothers: but when +he had found them they only laughed at him, to think that he, who was so +young and simple, should try to travel through the world, when they, who +were so much wiser, had been unable to get on. However, they all set +out on their journey together, and came at last to an ant-hill. The two +elder brothers would have pulled it down, in order to see how the poor +ants in their fright would run about and carry off their eggs. But the +little dwarf said, 'Let the poor things enjoy themselves, I will not +suffer you to trouble them.' + +So on they went, and came to a lake where many many ducks were swimming +about. The two brothers wanted to catch two, and roast them. But the +dwarf said, 'Let the poor things enjoy themselves, you shall not kill +them.' Next they came to a bees'-nest in a hollow tree, and there was +so much honey that it ran down the trunk; and the two brothers wanted to +light a fire under the tree and kill the bees, so as to get their honey. +But the dwarf held them back, and said, 'Let the pretty insects enjoy +themselves, I cannot let you burn them.' + +At length the three brothers came to a castle: and as they passed by the +stables they saw fine horses standing there, but all were of marble, and +no man was to be seen. Then they went through all the rooms, till they +came to a door on which were three locks: but in the middle of the door +was a wicket, so that they could look into the next room. There they saw +a little grey old man sitting at a table; and they called to him once or +twice, but he did not hear: however, they called a third time, and then +he rose and came out to them. + +He said nothing, but took hold of them and led them to a beautiful +table covered with all sorts of good things: and when they had eaten and +drunk, he showed each of them to a bed-chamber. + +The next morning he came to the eldest and took him to a marble table, +where there were three tablets, containing an account of the means by +which the castle might be disenchanted. The first tablet said: 'In the +wood, under the moss, lie the thousand pearls belonging to the king's +daughter; they must all be found: and if one be missing by set of sun, +he who seeks them will be turned into marble.' + +The eldest brother set out, and sought for the pearls the whole day: +but the evening came, and he had not found the first hundred: so he was +turned into stone as the tablet had foretold. + +The next day the second brother undertook the task; but he succeeded no +better than the first; for he could only find the second hundred of the +pearls; and therefore he too was turned into stone. + +At last came the little dwarf's turn; and he looked in the moss; but it +was so hard to find the pearls, and the job was so tiresome!--so he sat +down upon a stone and cried. And as he sat there, the king of the ants +(whose life he had saved) came to help him, with five thousand ants; and +it was not long before they had found all the pearls and laid them in a +heap. + +The second tablet said: 'The key of the princess's bed-chamber must be +fished up out of the lake.' And as the dwarf came to the brink of it, +he saw the two ducks whose lives he had saved swimming about; and they +dived down and soon brought in the key from the bottom. + +The third task was the hardest. It was to choose out the youngest and +the best of the king's three daughters. Now they were all beautiful, and +all exactly alike: but he was told that the eldest had eaten a piece of +sugar, the next some sweet syrup, and the youngest a spoonful of honey; +so he was to guess which it was that had eaten the honey. + +Then came the queen of the bees, who had been saved by the little dwarf +from the fire, and she tried the lips of all three; but at last she sat +upon the lips of the one that had eaten the honey: and so the dwarf knew +which was the youngest. Thus the spell was broken, and all who had been +turned into stones awoke, and took their proper forms. And the dwarf +married the youngest and the best of the princesses, and was king after +her father's death; but his two brothers married the other two sisters. + + + + +THE ELVES AND THE SHOEMAKER + +There was once a shoemaker, who worked very hard and was very honest: +but still he could not earn enough to live upon; and at last all he +had in the world was gone, save just leather enough to make one pair of +shoes. + +Then he cut his leather out, all ready to make up the next day, meaning +to rise early in the morning to his work. His conscience was clear and +his heart light amidst all his troubles; so he went peaceably to bed, +left all his cares to Heaven, and soon fell asleep. In the morning after +he had said his prayers, he sat himself down to his work; when, to his +great wonder, there stood the shoes all ready made, upon the table. The +good man knew not what to say or think at such an odd thing happening. +He looked at the workmanship; there was not one false stitch in the +whole job; all was so neat and true, that it was quite a masterpiece. + +The same day a customer came in, and the shoes suited him so well that +he willingly paid a price higher than usual for them; and the poor +shoemaker, with the money, bought leather enough to make two pairs more. +In the evening he cut out the work, and went to bed early, that he might +get up and begin betimes next day; but he was saved all the trouble, for +when he got up in the morning the work was done ready to his hand. Soon +in came buyers, who paid him handsomely for his goods, so that he bought +leather enough for four pair more. He cut out the work again overnight +and found it done in the morning, as before; and so it went on for some +time: what was got ready in the evening was always done by daybreak, and +the good man soon became thriving and well off again. + +One evening, about Christmas-time, as he and his wife were sitting over +the fire chatting together, he said to her, 'I should like to sit up and +watch tonight, that we may see who it is that comes and does my work for +me.' The wife liked the thought; so they left a light burning, and hid +themselves in a corner of the room, behind a curtain that was hung up +there, and watched what would happen. + +As soon as it was midnight, there came in two little naked dwarfs; and +they sat themselves upon the shoemaker's bench, took up all the work +that was cut out, and began to ply with their little fingers, stitching +and rapping and tapping away at such a rate, that the shoemaker was all +wonder, and could not take his eyes off them. And on they went, till the +job was quite done, and the shoes stood ready for use upon the table. +This was long before daybreak; and then they bustled away as quick as +lightning. + +The next day the wife said to the shoemaker. 'These little wights have +made us rich, and we ought to be thankful to them, and do them a good +turn if we can. I am quite sorry to see them run about as they do; and +indeed it is not very decent, for they have nothing upon their backs to +keep off the cold. I'll tell you what, I will make each of them a shirt, +and a coat and waistcoat, and a pair of pantaloons into the bargain; and +do you make each of them a little pair of shoes.' + +The thought pleased the good cobbler very much; and one evening, when +all the things were ready, they laid them on the table, instead of the +work that they used to cut out, and then went and hid themselves, to +watch what the little elves would do. + +About midnight in they came, dancing and skipping, hopped round the +room, and then went to sit down to their work as usual; but when they +saw the clothes lying for them, they laughed and chuckled, and seemed +mightily delighted. + +Then they dressed themselves in the twinkling of an eye, and danced and +capered and sprang about, as merry as could be; till at last they danced +out at the door, and away over the green. + +The good couple saw them no more; but everything went well with them +from that time forward, as long as they lived. + + + + +THE JUNIPER-TREE + +Long, long ago, some two thousand years or so, there lived a rich +man with a good and beautiful wife. They loved each other dearly, but +sorrowed much that they had no children. So greatly did they desire +to have one, that the wife prayed for it day and night, but still they +remained childless. + +In front of the house there was a court, in which grew a juniper-tree. +One winter's day the wife stood under the tree to peel some apples, and +as she was peeling them, she cut her finger, and the blood fell on the +snow. 'Ah,' sighed the woman heavily, 'if I had but a child, as red as +blood and as white as snow,' and as she spoke the words, her heart grew +light within her, and it seemed to her that her wish was granted, and +she returned to the house feeling glad and comforted. A month passed, +and the snow had all disappeared; then another month went by, and all +the earth was green. So the months followed one another, and first the +trees budded in the woods, and soon the green branches grew thickly +intertwined, and then the blossoms began to fall. Once again the wife +stood under the juniper-tree, and it was so full of sweet scent that her +heart leaped for joy, and she was so overcome with her happiness, that +she fell on her knees. Presently the fruit became round and firm, and +she was glad and at peace; but when they were fully ripe she picked the +berries and ate eagerly of them, and then she grew sad and ill. A little +while later she called her husband, and said to him, weeping. 'If I +die, bury me under the juniper-tree.' Then she felt comforted and happy +again, and before another month had passed she had a little child, and +when she saw that it was as white as snow and as red as blood, her joy +was so great that she died. + +Her husband buried her under the juniper-tree, and wept bitterly for +her. By degrees, however, his sorrow grew less, and although at times he +still grieved over his loss, he was able to go about as usual, and later +on he married again. + +He now had a little daughter born to him; the child of his first wife +was a boy, who was as red as blood and as white as snow. The mother +loved her daughter very much, and when she looked at her and then looked +at the boy, it pierced her heart to think that he would always stand in +the way of her own child, and she was continually thinking how she could +get the whole of the property for her. This evil thought took possession +of her more and more, and made her behave very unkindly to the boy. She +drove him from place to place with cuffings and buffetings, so that the +poor child went about in fear, and had no peace from the time he left +school to the time he went back. + +One day the little daughter came running to her mother in the +store-room, and said, 'Mother, give me an apple.' 'Yes, my child,' said +the wife, and she gave her a beautiful apple out of the chest; the chest +had a very heavy lid and a large iron lock. + +'Mother,' said the little daughter again, 'may not brother have one +too?' The mother was angry at this, but she answered, 'Yes, when he +comes out of school.' + +Just then she looked out of the window and saw him coming, and it seemed +as if an evil spirit entered into her, for she snatched the apple out +of her little daughter's hand, and said, 'You shall not have one before +your brother.' She threw the apple into the chest and shut it to. The +little boy now came in, and the evil spirit in the wife made her say +kindly to him, 'My son, will you have an apple?' but she gave him a +wicked look. 'Mother,' said the boy, 'how dreadful you look! Yes, give +me an apple.' The thought came to her that she would kill him. 'Come +with me,' she said, and she lifted up the lid of the chest; 'take one +out for yourself.' And as he bent over to do so, the evil spirit urged +her, and crash! down went the lid, and off went the little boy's head. +Then she was overwhelmed with fear at the thought of what she had done. +'If only I can prevent anyone knowing that I did it,' she thought. So +she went upstairs to her room, and took a white handkerchief out of +her top drawer; then she set the boy's head again on his shoulders, and +bound it with the handkerchief so that nothing could be seen, and placed +him on a chair by the door with an apple in his hand. + +Soon after this, little Marleen came up to her mother who was stirring +a pot of boiling water over the fire, and said, 'Mother, brother is +sitting by the door with an apple in his hand, and he looks so pale; +and when I asked him to give me the apple, he did not answer, and that +frightened me.' + +'Go to him again,' said her mother, 'and if he does not answer, give him +a box on the ear.' So little Marleen went, and said, 'Brother, give me +that apple,' but he did not say a word; then she gave him a box on the +ear, and his head rolled off. She was so terrified at this, that she ran +crying and screaming to her mother. 'Oh!' she said, 'I have knocked off +brother's head,' and then she wept and wept, and nothing would stop her. + +'What have you done!' said her mother, 'but no one must know about it, +so you must keep silence; what is done can't be undone; we will make +him into puddings.' And she took the little boy and cut him up, made him +into puddings, and put him in the pot. But Marleen stood looking on, +and wept and wept, and her tears fell into the pot, so that there was no +need of salt. + +Presently the father came home and sat down to his dinner; he asked, +'Where is my son?' The mother said nothing, but gave him a large dish of +black pudding, and Marleen still wept without ceasing. + +The father again asked, 'Where is my son?' + +'Oh,' answered the wife, 'he is gone into the country to his mother's +great uncle; he is going to stay there some time.' + +'What has he gone there for, and he never even said goodbye to me!' + +'Well, he likes being there, and he told me he should be away quite six +weeks; he is well looked after there.' + +'I feel very unhappy about it,' said the husband, 'in case it should not +be all right, and he ought to have said goodbye to me.' + +With this he went on with his dinner, and said, 'Little Marleen, why do +you weep? Brother will soon be back.' Then he asked his wife for more +pudding, and as he ate, he threw the bones under the table. + +Little Marleen went upstairs and took her best silk handkerchief out of +her bottom drawer, and in it she wrapped all the bones from under the +table and carried them outside, and all the time she did nothing but +weep. Then she laid them in the green grass under the juniper-tree, and +she had no sooner done so, then all her sadness seemed to leave her, +and she wept no more. And now the juniper-tree began to move, and the +branches waved backwards and forwards, first away from one another, and +then together again, as it might be someone clapping their hands for +joy. After this a mist came round the tree, and in the midst of it there +was a burning as of fire, and out of the fire there flew a beautiful +bird, that rose high into the air, singing magnificently, and when it +could no more be seen, the juniper-tree stood there as before, and the +silk handkerchief and the bones were gone. + +Little Marleen now felt as lighthearted and happy as if her brother were +still alive, and she went back to the house and sat down cheerfully to +the table and ate. + +The bird flew away and alighted on the house of a goldsmith and began to +sing: + + 'My mother killed her little son; + My father grieved when I was gone; + My sister loved me best of all; + She laid her kerchief over me, + And took my bones that they might lie + Underneath the juniper-tree + Kywitt, Kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!' + +The goldsmith was in his workshop making a gold chain, when he heard the +song of the bird on his roof. He thought it so beautiful that he got +up and ran out, and as he crossed the threshold he lost one of his +slippers. But he ran on into the middle of the street, with a slipper on +one foot and a sock on the other; he still had on his apron, and still +held the gold chain and the pincers in his hands, and so he stood gazing +up at the bird, while the sun came shining brightly down on the street. + +'Bird,' he said, 'how beautifully you sing! Sing me that song again.' + +'Nay,' said the bird, 'I do not sing twice for nothing. Give that gold +chain, and I will sing it you again.' + +'Here is the chain, take it,' said the goldsmith. 'Only sing me that +again.' + +The bird flew down and took the gold chain in his right claw, and then +he alighted again in front of the goldsmith and sang: + + 'My mother killed her little son; + My father grieved when I was gone; + My sister loved me best of all; + She laid her kerchief over me, + And took my bones that they might lie + Underneath the juniper-tree + Kywitt, Kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!' + +Then he flew away, and settled on the roof of a shoemaker's house and +sang: + + 'My mother killed her little son; + My father grieved when I was gone; + My sister loved me best of all; + She laid her kerchief over me, + And took my bones that they might lie + Underneath the juniper-tree + Kywitt, Kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!' + +The shoemaker heard him, and he jumped up and ran out in his +shirt-sleeves, and stood looking up at the bird on the roof with his +hand over his eyes to keep himself from being blinded by the sun. + +'Bird,' he said, 'how beautifully you sing!' Then he called through the +door to his wife: 'Wife, come out; here is a bird, come and look at it +and hear how beautifully it sings.' Then he called his daughter and the +children, then the apprentices, girls and boys, and they all ran up the +street to look at the bird, and saw how splendid it was with its red +and green feathers, and its neck like burnished gold, and eyes like two +bright stars in its head. + +'Bird,' said the shoemaker, 'sing me that song again.' + +'Nay,' answered the bird, 'I do not sing twice for nothing; you must +give me something.' + +'Wife,' said the man, 'go into the garret; on the upper shelf you will +see a pair of red shoes; bring them to me.' The wife went in and fetched +the shoes. + +'There, bird,' said the shoemaker, 'now sing me that song again.' + +The bird flew down and took the red shoes in his left claw, and then he +went back to the roof and sang: + + 'My mother killed her little son; + My father grieved when I was gone; + My sister loved me best of all; + She laid her kerchief over me, + And took my bones that they might lie + Underneath the juniper-tree + Kywitt, Kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!' + +When he had finished, he flew away. He had the chain in his right claw +and the shoes in his left, and he flew right away to a mill, and the +mill went 'Click clack, click clack, click clack.' Inside the mill were +twenty of the miller's men hewing a stone, and as they went 'Hick hack, +hick hack, hick hack,' the mill went 'Click clack, click clack, click +clack.' + +The bird settled on a lime-tree in front of the mill and sang: + + 'My mother killed her little son; + +then one of the men left off, + + My father grieved when I was gone; + +two more men left off and listened, + + My sister loved me best of all; + +then four more left off, + + She laid her kerchief over me, + And took my bones that they might lie + +now there were only eight at work, + + Underneath + +And now only five, + + the juniper-tree. + +And now only one, + + Kywitt, Kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!' + +then he looked up and the last one had left off work. + +'Bird,' he said, 'what a beautiful song that is you sing! Let me hear it +too; sing it again.' + +'Nay,' answered the bird, 'I do not sing twice for nothing; give me that +millstone, and I will sing it again.' + +'If it belonged to me alone,' said the man, 'you should have it.' + +'Yes, yes,' said the others: 'if he will sing again, he can have it.' + +The bird came down, and all the twenty millers set to and lifted up the +stone with a beam; then the bird put his head through the hole and took +the stone round his neck like a collar, and flew back with it to the +tree and sang-- + + 'My mother killed her little son; + My father grieved when I was gone; + My sister loved me best of all; + She laid her kerchief over me, + And took my bones that they might lie + Underneath the juniper-tree + Kywitt, Kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!' + +And when he had finished his song, he spread his wings, and with the +chain in his right claw, the shoes in his left, and the millstone round +his neck, he flew right away to his father's house. + +The father, the mother, and little Marleen were having their dinner. + +'How lighthearted I feel,' said the father, 'so pleased and cheerful.' + +'And I,' said the mother, 'I feel so uneasy, as if a heavy thunderstorm +were coming.' + +But little Marleen sat and wept and wept. + +Then the bird came flying towards the house and settled on the roof. + +'I do feel so happy,' said the father, 'and how beautifully the sun +shines; I feel just as if I were going to see an old friend again.' + +'Ah!' said the wife, 'and I am so full of distress and uneasiness that +my teeth chatter, and I feel as if there were a fire in my veins,' and +she tore open her dress; and all the while little Marleen sat in the +corner and wept, and the plate on her knees was wet with her tears. + +The bird now flew to the juniper-tree and began singing: + + 'My mother killed her little son; + +the mother shut her eyes and her ears, that she might see and hear +nothing, but there was a roaring sound in her ears like that of a +violent storm, and in her eyes a burning and flashing like lightning: + + My father grieved when I was gone; + +'Look, mother,' said the man, 'at the beautiful bird that is singing so +magnificently; and how warm and bright the sun is, and what a delicious +scent of spice in the air!' + + My sister loved me best of all; + +then little Marleen laid her head down on her knees and sobbed. + +'I must go outside and see the bird nearer,' said the man. + +'Ah, do not go!' cried the wife. 'I feel as if the whole house were in +flames!' + +But the man went out and looked at the bird. + + She laid her kerchief over me, + And took my bones that they might lie + Underneath the juniper-tree + Kywitt, Kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!' + +With that the bird let fall the gold chain, and it fell just round the +man's neck, so that it fitted him exactly. + +He went inside, and said, 'See, what a splendid bird that is; he has +given me this beautiful gold chain, and looks so beautiful himself.' + +But the wife was in such fear and trouble, that she fell on the floor, +and her cap fell from her head. + +Then the bird began again: + + 'My mother killed her little son; + +'Ah me!' cried the wife, 'if I were but a thousand feet beneath the +earth, that I might not hear that song.' + + My father grieved when I was gone; + +then the woman fell down again as if dead. + + My sister loved me best of all; + +'Well,' said little Marleen, 'I will go out too and see if the bird will +give me anything.' + +So she went out. + + She laid her kerchief over me, + And took my bones that they might lie + +and he threw down the shoes to her, + + Underneath the juniper-tree + Kywitt, Kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!' + +And she now felt quite happy and lighthearted; she put on the shoes and +danced and jumped about in them. 'I was so miserable,' she said, 'when I +came out, but that has all passed away; that is indeed a splendid bird, +and he has given me a pair of red shoes.' + +The wife sprang up, with her hair standing out from her head like flames +of fire. 'Then I will go out too,' she said, 'and see if it will lighten +my misery, for I feel as if the world were coming to an end.' + +But as she crossed the threshold, crash! the bird threw the millstone +down on her head, and she was crushed to death. + +The father and little Marleen heard the sound and ran out, but they only +saw mist and flame and fire rising from the spot, and when these had +passed, there stood the little brother, and he took the father and +little Marleen by the hand; then they all three rejoiced, and went +inside together and sat down to their dinners and ate. + + + + +THE TURNIP + +There were two brothers who were both soldiers; the one was rich and +the other poor. The poor man thought he would try to better himself; so, +pulling off his red coat, he became a gardener, and dug his ground well, +and sowed turnips. + +When the seed came up, there was one plant bigger than all the rest; and +it kept getting larger and larger, and seemed as if it would never cease +growing; so that it might have been called the prince of turnips for +there never was such a one seen before, and never will again. At last it +was so big that it filled a cart, and two oxen could hardly draw it; and +the gardener knew not what in the world to do with it, nor whether it +would be a blessing or a curse to him. One day he said to himself, 'What +shall I do with it? if I sell it, it will bring no more than another; +and for eating, the little turnips are better than this; the best thing +perhaps is to carry it and give it to the king as a mark of respect.' + +Then he yoked his oxen, and drew the turnip to the court, and gave it +to the king. 'What a wonderful thing!' said the king; 'I have seen many +strange things, but such a monster as this I never saw. Where did you +get the seed? or is it only your good luck? If so, you are a true child +of fortune.' 'Ah, no!' answered the gardener, 'I am no child of fortune; +I am a poor soldier, who never could get enough to live upon; so I +laid aside my red coat, and set to work, tilling the ground. I have a +brother, who is rich, and your majesty knows him well, and all the world +knows him; but because I am poor, everybody forgets me.' + +The king then took pity on him, and said, 'You shall be poor no +longer. I will give you so much that you shall be even richer than your +brother.' Then he gave him gold and lands and flocks, and made him so +rich that his brother's fortune could not at all be compared with his. + +When the brother heard of all this, and how a turnip had made the +gardener so rich, he envied him sorely, and bethought himself how he +could contrive to get the same good fortune for himself. However, he +determined to manage more cleverly than his brother, and got together a +rich present of gold and fine horses for the king; and thought he must +have a much larger gift in return; for if his brother had received so +much for only a turnip, what must his present be worth? + +The king took the gift very graciously, and said he knew not what to +give in return more valuable and wonderful than the great turnip; so +the soldier was forced to put it into a cart, and drag it home with him. +When he reached home, he knew not upon whom to vent his rage and spite; +and at length wicked thoughts came into his head, and he resolved to +kill his brother. + +So he hired some villains to murder him; and having shown them where to +lie in ambush, he went to his brother, and said, 'Dear brother, I have +found a hidden treasure; let us go and dig it up, and share it between +us.' The other had no suspicions of his roguery: so they went out +together, and as they were travelling along, the murderers rushed out +upon him, bound him, and were going to hang him on a tree. + +But whilst they were getting all ready, they heard the trampling of a +horse at a distance, which so frightened them that they pushed their +prisoner neck and shoulders together into a sack, and swung him up by a +cord to the tree, where they left him dangling, and ran away. Meantime +he worked and worked away, till he made a hole large enough to put out +his head. + +When the horseman came up, he proved to be a student, a merry fellow, +who was journeying along on his nag, and singing as he went. As soon as +the man in the sack saw him passing under the tree, he cried out, 'Good +morning! good morning to thee, my friend!' The student looked about +everywhere; and seeing no one, and not knowing where the voice came +from, cried out, 'Who calls me?' + +Then the man in the tree answered, 'Lift up thine eyes, for behold here +I sit in the sack of wisdom; here have I, in a short time, learned great +and wondrous things. Compared to this seat, all the learning of the +schools is as empty air. A little longer, and I shall know all that man +can know, and shall come forth wiser than the wisest of mankind. Here +I discern the signs and motions of the heavens and the stars; the laws +that control the winds; the number of the sands on the seashore; the +healing of the sick; the virtues of all simples, of birds, and of +precious stones. Wert thou but once here, my friend, though wouldst feel +and own the power of knowledge. + +The student listened to all this and wondered much; at last he said, +'Blessed be the day and hour when I found you; cannot you contrive to +let me into the sack for a little while?' Then the other answered, as if +very unwillingly, 'A little space I may allow thee to sit here, if thou +wilt reward me well and entreat me kindly; but thou must tarry yet an +hour below, till I have learnt some little matters that are yet unknown +to me.' + +So the student sat himself down and waited a while; but the time hung +heavy upon him, and he begged earnestly that he might ascend forthwith, +for his thirst for knowledge was great. Then the other pretended to give +way, and said, 'Thou must let the sack of wisdom descend, by untying +yonder cord, and then thou shalt enter.' So the student let him down, +opened the sack, and set him free. 'Now then,' cried he, 'let me ascend +quickly.' As he began to put himself into the sack heels first, 'Wait a +while,' said the gardener, 'that is not the way.' Then he pushed him +in head first, tied up the sack, and soon swung up the searcher after +wisdom dangling in the air. 'How is it with thee, friend?' said he, +'dost thou not feel that wisdom comes unto thee? Rest there in peace, +till thou art a wiser man than thou wert.' + +So saying, he trotted off on the student's nag, and left the poor fellow +to gather wisdom till somebody should come and let him down. + + + + +CLEVER HANS + +The mother of Hans said: 'Whither away, Hans?' Hans answered: 'To +Gretel.' 'Behave well, Hans.' 'Oh, I'll behave well. Goodbye, mother.' +'Goodbye, Hans.' Hans comes to Gretel. 'Good day, Gretel.' 'Good day, +Hans. What do you bring that is good?' 'I bring nothing, I want to have +something given me.' Gretel presents Hans with a needle, Hans says: +'Goodbye, Gretel.' 'Goodbye, Hans.' + +Hans takes the needle, sticks it into a hay-cart, and follows the cart +home. 'Good evening, mother.' 'Good evening, Hans. Where have you been?' +'With Gretel.' 'What did you take her?' 'Took nothing; had something +given me.' 'What did Gretel give you?' 'Gave me a needle.' 'Where is the +needle, Hans?' 'Stuck in the hay-cart.' 'That was ill done, Hans. You +should have stuck the needle in your sleeve.' 'Never mind, I'll do +better next time.' + +'Whither away, Hans?' 'To Gretel, mother.' 'Behave well, Hans.' 'Oh, +I'll behave well. Goodbye, mother.' 'Goodbye, Hans.' Hans comes to +Gretel. 'Good day, Gretel.' 'Good day, Hans. What do you bring that is +good?' 'I bring nothing. I want to have something given to me.' Gretel +presents Hans with a knife. 'Goodbye, Gretel.' 'Goodbye, Hans.' Hans +takes the knife, sticks it in his sleeve, and goes home. 'Good evening, +mother.' 'Good evening, Hans. Where have you been?' 'With Gretel.' What +did you take her?' 'Took her nothing, she gave me something.' 'What did +Gretel give you?' 'Gave me a knife.' 'Where is the knife, Hans?' 'Stuck +in my sleeve.' 'That's ill done, Hans, you should have put the knife in +your pocket.' 'Never mind, will do better next time.' + +'Whither away, Hans?' 'To Gretel, mother.' 'Behave well, Hans.' 'Oh, +I'll behave well. Goodbye, mother.' 'Goodbye, Hans.' Hans comes to +Gretel. 'Good day, Gretel.' 'Good day, Hans. What good thing do you +bring?' 'I bring nothing, I want something given me.' Gretel presents +Hans with a young goat. 'Goodbye, Gretel.' 'Goodbye, Hans.' Hans takes +the goat, ties its legs, and puts it in his pocket. When he gets home it +is suffocated. 'Good evening, mother.' 'Good evening, Hans. Where have +you been?' 'With Gretel.' 'What did you take her?' 'Took nothing, she +gave me something.' 'What did Gretel give you?' 'She gave me a goat.' +'Where is the goat, Hans?' 'Put it in my pocket.' 'That was ill done, +Hans, you should have put a rope round the goat's neck.' 'Never mind, +will do better next time.' + +'Whither away, Hans?' 'To Gretel, mother.' 'Behave well, Hans.' 'Oh, +I'll behave well. Goodbye, mother.' 'Goodbye, Hans.' Hans comes to +Gretel. 'Good day, Gretel.' 'Good day, Hans. What good thing do you +bring?' 'I bring nothing, I want something given me.' Gretel presents +Hans with a piece of bacon. 'Goodbye, Gretel.' 'Goodbye, Hans.' + +Hans takes the bacon, ties it to a rope, and drags it away behind him. +The dogs come and devour the bacon. When he gets home, he has the rope +in his hand, and there is no longer anything hanging on to it. 'Good +evening, mother.' 'Good evening, Hans. Where have you been?' 'With +Gretel.' 'What did you take her?' 'I took her nothing, she gave me +something.' 'What did Gretel give you?' 'Gave me a bit of bacon.' 'Where +is the bacon, Hans?' 'I tied it to a rope, brought it home, dogs took +it.' 'That was ill done, Hans, you should have carried the bacon on your +head.' 'Never mind, will do better next time.' + +'Whither away, Hans?' 'To Gretel, mother.' 'Behave well, Hans.' 'I'll +behave well. Goodbye, mother.' 'Goodbye, Hans.' Hans comes to Gretel. +'Good day, Gretel.' 'Good day, Hans, What good thing do you bring?' 'I +bring nothing, but would have something given.' Gretel presents Hans +with a calf. 'Goodbye, Gretel.' 'Goodbye, Hans.' + +Hans takes the calf, puts it on his head, and the calf kicks his face. +'Good evening, mother.' 'Good evening, Hans. Where have you been?' 'With +Gretel.' 'What did you take her?' 'I took nothing, but had something +given me.' 'What did Gretel give you?' 'A calf.' 'Where have you the +calf, Hans?' 'I set it on my head and it kicked my face.' 'That was +ill done, Hans, you should have led the calf, and put it in the stall.' +'Never mind, will do better next time.' + +'Whither away, Hans?' 'To Gretel, mother.' 'Behave well, Hans.' 'I'll +behave well. Goodbye, mother.' 'Goodbye, Hans.' + +Hans comes to Gretel. 'Good day, Gretel.' 'Good day, Hans. What good +thing do you bring?' 'I bring nothing, but would have something given.' +Gretel says to Hans: 'I will go with you.' + +Hans takes Gretel, ties her to a rope, leads her to the rack, and binds +her fast. Then Hans goes to his mother. 'Good evening, mother.' 'Good +evening, Hans. Where have you been?' 'With Gretel.' 'What did you take +her?' 'I took her nothing.' 'What did Gretel give you?' 'She gave me +nothing, she came with me.' 'Where have you left Gretel?' 'I led her by +the rope, tied her to the rack, and scattered some grass for her.' 'That +was ill done, Hans, you should have cast friendly eyes on her.' 'Never +mind, will do better.' + +Hans went into the stable, cut out all the calves' and sheep's eyes, +and threw them in Gretel's face. Then Gretel became angry, tore herself +loose and ran away, and was no longer the bride of Hans. + + + + +THE THREE LANGUAGES + +An aged count once lived in Switzerland, who had an only son, but he +was stupid, and could learn nothing. Then said the father: 'Hark you, +my son, try as I will I can get nothing into your head. You must go from +hence, I will give you into the care of a celebrated master, who shall +see what he can do with you.' The youth was sent into a strange town, +and remained a whole year with the master. At the end of this time, +he came home again, and his father asked: 'Now, my son, what have you +learnt?' 'Father, I have learnt what the dogs say when they bark.' 'Lord +have mercy on us!' cried the father; 'is that all you have learnt? I +will send you into another town, to another master.' The youth was taken +thither, and stayed a year with this master likewise. When he came back +the father again asked: 'My son, what have you learnt?' He answered: +'Father, I have learnt what the birds say.' Then the father fell into a +rage and said: 'Oh, you lost man, you have spent the precious time and +learnt nothing; are you not ashamed to appear before my eyes? I will +send you to a third master, but if you learn nothing this time also, I +will no longer be your father.' The youth remained a whole year with the +third master also, and when he came home again, and his father inquired: +'My son, what have you learnt?' he answered: 'Dear father, I have this +year learnt what the frogs croak.' Then the father fell into the most +furious anger, sprang up, called his people thither, and said: 'This man +is no longer my son, I drive him forth, and command you to take him +out into the forest, and kill him.' They took him forth, but when they +should have killed him, they could not do it for pity, and let him go, +and they cut the eyes and tongue out of a deer that they might carry +them to the old man as a token. + +The youth wandered on, and after some time came to a fortress where he +begged for a night's lodging. 'Yes,' said the lord of the castle, 'if +you will pass the night down there in the old tower, go thither; but I +warn you, it is at the peril of your life, for it is full of wild dogs, +which bark and howl without stopping, and at certain hours a man has to +be given to them, whom they at once devour.' The whole district was in +sorrow and dismay because of them, and yet no one could do anything to +stop this. The youth, however, was without fear, and said: 'Just let me +go down to the barking dogs, and give me something that I can throw to +them; they will do nothing to harm me.' As he himself would have it so, +they gave him some food for the wild animals, and led him down to the +tower. When he went inside, the dogs did not bark at him, but wagged +their tails quite amicably around him, ate what he set before them, and +did not hurt one hair of his head. Next morning, to the astonishment of +everyone, he came out again safe and unharmed, and said to the lord of +the castle: 'The dogs have revealed to me, in their own language, why +they dwell there, and bring evil on the land. They are bewitched, and +are obliged to watch over a great treasure which is below in the tower, +and they can have no rest until it is taken away, and I have likewise +learnt, from their discourse, how that is to be done.' Then all who +heard this rejoiced, and the lord of the castle said he would adopt him +as a son if he accomplished it successfully. He went down again, and +as he knew what he had to do, he did it thoroughly, and brought a chest +full of gold out with him. The howling of the wild dogs was henceforth +heard no more; they had disappeared, and the country was freed from the +trouble. + +After some time he took it in his head that he would travel to Rome. On +the way he passed by a marsh, in which a number of frogs were sitting +croaking. He listened to them, and when he became aware of what they +were saying, he grew very thoughtful and sad. At last he arrived in +Rome, where the Pope had just died, and there was great doubt among +the cardinals as to whom they should appoint as his successor. They at +length agreed that the person should be chosen as pope who should be +distinguished by some divine and miraculous token. And just as that was +decided on, the young count entered into the church, and suddenly two +snow-white doves flew on his shoulders and remained sitting there. The +ecclesiastics recognized therein the token from above, and asked him on +the spot if he would be pope. He was undecided, and knew not if he were +worthy of this, but the doves counselled him to do it, and at length he +said yes. Then was he anointed and consecrated, and thus was fulfilled +what he had heard from the frogs on his way, which had so affected him, +that he was to be his Holiness the Pope. Then he had to sing a mass, and +did not know one word of it, but the two doves sat continually on his +shoulders, and said it all in his ear. + + + + +THE FOX AND THE CAT + +It happened that the cat met the fox in a forest, and as she thought to +herself: 'He is clever and full of experience, and much esteemed in the +world,' she spoke to him in a friendly way. 'Good day, dear Mr Fox, +how are you? How is all with you? How are you getting on in these hard +times?' The fox, full of all kinds of arrogance, looked at the cat from +head to foot, and for a long time did not know whether he would give +any answer or not. At last he said: 'Oh, you wretched beard-cleaner, you +piebald fool, you hungry mouse-hunter, what can you be thinking of? Have +you the cheek to ask how I am getting on? What have you learnt? How +many arts do you understand?' 'I understand but one,' replied the +cat, modestly. 'What art is that?' asked the fox. 'When the hounds are +following me, I can spring into a tree and save myself.' 'Is that all?' +said the fox. 'I am master of a hundred arts, and have into the bargain +a sackful of cunning. You make me sorry for you; come with me, I will +teach you how people get away from the hounds.' Just then came a hunter +with four dogs. The cat sprang nimbly up a tree, and sat down at the top +of it, where the branches and foliage quite concealed her. 'Open your +sack, Mr Fox, open your sack,' cried the cat to him, but the dogs had +already seized him, and were holding him fast. 'Ah, Mr Fox,' cried the +cat. 'You with your hundred arts are left in the lurch! Had you been +able to climb like me, you would not have lost your life.' + + + + +THE FOUR CLEVER BROTHERS + +'Dear children,' said a poor man to his four sons, 'I have nothing to +give you; you must go out into the wide world and try your luck. Begin +by learning some craft or another, and see how you can get on.' So the +four brothers took their walking-sticks in their hands, and their little +bundles on their shoulders, and after bidding their father goodbye, went +all out at the gate together. When they had got on some way they came +to four crossways, each leading to a different country. Then the eldest +said, 'Here we must part; but this day four years we will come back +to this spot, and in the meantime each must try what he can do for +himself.' + +So each brother went his way; and as the eldest was hastening on a man +met him, and asked him where he was going, and what he wanted. 'I am +going to try my luck in the world, and should like to begin by learning +some art or trade,' answered he. 'Then,' said the man, 'go with me, and +I will teach you to become the cunningest thief that ever was.' 'No,' +said the other, 'that is not an honest calling, and what can one look +to earn by it in the end but the gallows?' 'Oh!' said the man, 'you need +not fear the gallows; for I will only teach you to steal what will be +fair game: I meddle with nothing but what no one else can get or care +anything about, and where no one can find you out.' So the young man +agreed to follow his trade, and he soon showed himself so clever, that +nothing could escape him that he had once set his mind upon. + +The second brother also met a man, who, when he found out what he was +setting out upon, asked him what craft he meant to follow. 'I do not +know yet,' said he. 'Then come with me, and be a star-gazer. It is a +noble art, for nothing can be hidden from you, when once you understand +the stars.' The plan pleased him much, and he soon became such a skilful +star-gazer, that when he had served out his time, and wanted to leave +his master, he gave him a glass, and said, 'With this you can see all +that is passing in the sky and on earth, and nothing can be hidden from +you.' + +The third brother met a huntsman, who took him with him, and taught him +so well all that belonged to hunting, that he became very clever in the +craft of the woods; and when he left his master he gave him a bow, and +said, 'Whatever you shoot at with this bow you will be sure to hit.' + +The youngest brother likewise met a man who asked him what he wished to +do. 'Would not you like,' said he, 'to be a tailor?' 'Oh, no!' said +the young man; 'sitting cross-legged from morning to night, working +backwards and forwards with a needle and goose, will never suit me.' +'Oh!' answered the man, 'that is not my sort of tailoring; come with me, +and you will learn quite another kind of craft from that.' Not knowing +what better to do, he came into the plan, and learnt tailoring from the +beginning; and when he left his master, he gave him a needle, and said, +'You can sew anything with this, be it as soft as an egg or as hard as +steel; and the joint will be so fine that no seam will be seen.' + +After the space of four years, at the time agreed upon, the four +brothers met at the four cross-roads; and having welcomed each other, +set off towards their father's home, where they told him all that had +happened to them, and how each had learned some craft. + +Then, one day, as they were sitting before the house under a very high +tree, the father said, 'I should like to try what each of you can do in +this way.' So he looked up, and said to the second son, 'At the top of +this tree there is a chaffinch's nest; tell me how many eggs there are +in it.' The star-gazer took his glass, looked up, and said, 'Five.' +'Now,' said the father to the eldest son, 'take away the eggs without +letting the bird that is sitting upon them and hatching them know +anything of what you are doing.' So the cunning thief climbed up the +tree, and brought away to his father the five eggs from under the bird; +and it never saw or felt what he was doing, but kept sitting on at its +ease. Then the father took the eggs, and put one on each corner of the +table, and the fifth in the middle, and said to the huntsman, 'Cut all +the eggs in two pieces at one shot.' The huntsman took up his bow, and +at one shot struck all the five eggs as his father wished. + +'Now comes your turn,' said he to the young tailor; 'sew the eggs and +the young birds in them together again, so neatly that the shot shall +have done them no harm.' Then the tailor took his needle, and sewed the +eggs as he was told; and when he had done, the thief was sent to take +them back to the nest, and put them under the bird without its knowing +it. Then she went on sitting, and hatched them: and in a few days they +crawled out, and had only a little red streak across their necks, where +the tailor had sewn them together. + +'Well done, sons!' said the old man; 'you have made good use of your +time, and learnt something worth the knowing; but I am sure I do not +know which ought to have the prize. Oh, that a time might soon come for +you to turn your skill to some account!' + +Not long after this there was a great bustle in the country; for the +king's daughter had been carried off by a mighty dragon, and the king +mourned over his loss day and night, and made it known that whoever +brought her back to him should have her for a wife. Then the four +brothers said to each other, 'Here is a chance for us; let us try +what we can do.' And they agreed to see whether they could not set the +princess free. 'I will soon find out where she is, however,' said the +star-gazer, as he looked through his glass; and he soon cried out, 'I +see her afar off, sitting upon a rock in the sea, and I can spy the +dragon close by, guarding her.' Then he went to the king, and asked for +a ship for himself and his brothers; and they sailed together over the +sea, till they came to the right place. There they found the princess +sitting, as the star-gazer had said, on the rock; and the dragon was +lying asleep, with his head upon her lap. 'I dare not shoot at him,' +said the huntsman, 'for I should kill the beautiful young lady also.' +'Then I will try my skill,' said the thief, and went and stole her away +from under the dragon, so quietly and gently that the beast did not know +it, but went on snoring. + +Then away they hastened with her full of joy in their boat towards the +ship; but soon came the dragon roaring behind them through the air; for +he awoke and missed the princess. But when he got over the boat, and +wanted to pounce upon them and carry off the princess, the huntsman took +up his bow and shot him straight through the heart so that he fell down +dead. They were still not safe; for he was such a great beast that in +his fall he overset the boat, and they had to swim in the open sea +upon a few planks. So the tailor took his needle, and with a few large +stitches put some of the planks together; and he sat down upon these, +and sailed about and gathered up all pieces of the boat; and then tacked +them together so quickly that the boat was soon ready, and they then +reached the ship and got home safe. + +When they had brought home the princess to her father, there was great +rejoicing; and he said to the four brothers, 'One of you shall marry +her, but you must settle amongst yourselves which it is to be.' Then +there arose a quarrel between them; and the star-gazer said, 'If I had +not found the princess out, all your skill would have been of no use; +therefore she ought to be mine.' 'Your seeing her would have been of +no use,' said the thief, 'if I had not taken her away from the dragon; +therefore she ought to be mine.' 'No, she is mine,' said the huntsman; +'for if I had not killed the dragon, he would, after all, have torn you +and the princess into pieces.' 'And if I had not sewn the boat together +again,' said the tailor, 'you would all have been drowned, therefore she +is mine.' Then the king put in a word, and said, 'Each of you is right; +and as all cannot have the young lady, the best way is for neither of +you to have her: for the truth is, there is somebody she likes a great +deal better. But to make up for your loss, I will give each of you, as a +reward for his skill, half a kingdom.' So the brothers agreed that this +plan would be much better than either quarrelling or marrying a lady who +had no mind to have them. And the king then gave to each half a kingdom, +as he had said; and they lived very happily the rest of their days, and +took good care of their father; and somebody took better care of the +young lady, than to let either the dragon or one of the craftsmen have +her again. + + + + +LILY AND THE LION + +A merchant, who had three daughters, was once setting out upon a +journey; but before he went he asked each daughter what gift he should +bring back for her. The eldest wished for pearls; the second for jewels; +but the third, who was called Lily, said, 'Dear father, bring me a +rose.' Now it was no easy task to find a rose, for it was the middle +of winter; yet as she was his prettiest daughter, and was very fond of +flowers, her father said he would try what he could do. So he kissed all +three, and bid them goodbye. + +And when the time came for him to go home, he had bought pearls and +jewels for the two eldest, but he had sought everywhere in vain for the +rose; and when he went into any garden and asked for such a thing, the +people laughed at him, and asked him whether he thought roses grew in +snow. This grieved him very much, for Lily was his dearest child; and as +he was journeying home, thinking what he should bring her, he came to a +fine castle; and around the castle was a garden, in one half of which it +seemed to be summer-time and in the other half winter. On one side the +finest flowers were in full bloom, and on the other everything looked +dreary and buried in the snow. 'A lucky hit!' said he, as he called to +his servant, and told him to go to a beautiful bed of roses that was +there, and bring him away one of the finest flowers. + +This done, they were riding away well pleased, when up sprang a fierce +lion, and roared out, 'Whoever has stolen my roses shall be eaten up +alive!' Then the man said, 'I knew not that the garden belonged to you; +can nothing save my life?' 'No!' said the lion, 'nothing, unless you +undertake to give me whatever meets you on your return home; if you +agree to this, I will give you your life, and the rose too for your +daughter.' But the man was unwilling to do so and said, 'It may be my +youngest daughter, who loves me most, and always runs to meet me when +I go home.' Then the servant was greatly frightened, and said, 'It may +perhaps be only a cat or a dog.' And at last the man yielded with a +heavy heart, and took the rose; and said he would give the lion whatever +should meet him first on his return. + +And as he came near home, it was Lily, his youngest and dearest +daughter, that met him; she came running, and kissed him, and welcomed +him home; and when she saw that he had brought her the rose, she was +still more glad. But her father began to be very sorrowful, and to weep, +saying, 'Alas, my dearest child! I have bought this flower at a high +price, for I have said I would give you to a wild lion; and when he has +you, he will tear you in pieces, and eat you.' Then he told her all that +had happened, and said she should not go, let what would happen. + +But she comforted him, and said, 'Dear father, the word you have given +must be kept; I will go to the lion, and soothe him: perhaps he will let +me come safe home again.' + +The next morning she asked the way she was to go, and took leave of her +father, and went forth with a bold heart into the wood. But the lion was +an enchanted prince. By day he and all his court were lions, but in the +evening they took their right forms again. And when Lily came to the +castle, he welcomed her so courteously that she agreed to marry him. The +wedding-feast was held, and they lived happily together a long time. The +prince was only to be seen as soon as evening came, and then he held his +court; but every morning he left his bride, and went away by himself, +she knew not whither, till the night came again. + +After some time he said to her, 'Tomorrow there will be a great feast in +your father's house, for your eldest sister is to be married; and if +you wish to go and visit her my lions shall lead you thither.' Then she +rejoiced much at the thoughts of seeing her father once more, and set +out with the lions; and everyone was overjoyed to see her, for they had +thought her dead long since. But she told them how happy she was, and +stayed till the feast was over, and then went back to the wood. + +Her second sister was soon after married, and when Lily was asked to +go to the wedding, she said to the prince, 'I will not go alone this +time--you must go with me.' But he would not, and said that it would be +a very hazardous thing; for if the least ray of the torch-light should +fall upon him his enchantment would become still worse, for he should be +changed into a dove, and be forced to wander about the world for seven +long years. However, she gave him no rest, and said she would take care +no light should fall upon him. So at last they set out together, and +took with them their little child; and she chose a large hall with thick +walls for him to sit in while the wedding-torches were lighted; but, +unluckily, no one saw that there was a crack in the door. Then the +wedding was held with great pomp, but as the train came from the church, +and passed with the torches before the hall, a very small ray of light +fell upon the prince. In a moment he disappeared, and when his wife came +in and looked for him, she found only a white dove; and it said to her, +'Seven years must I fly up and down over the face of the earth, but +every now and then I will let fall a white feather, that will show you +the way I am going; follow it, and at last you may overtake and set me +free.' + +This said, he flew out at the door, and poor Lily followed; and every +now and then a white feather fell, and showed her the way she was to +journey. Thus she went roving on through the wide world, and looked +neither to the right hand nor to the left, nor took any rest, for seven +years. Then she began to be glad, and thought to herself that the time +was fast coming when all her troubles should end; yet repose was still +far off, for one day as she was travelling on she missed the white +feather, and when she lifted up her eyes she could nowhere see the dove. +'Now,' thought she to herself, 'no aid of man can be of use to me.' So +she went to the sun and said, 'Thou shinest everywhere, on the hill's +top and the valley's depth--hast thou anywhere seen my white dove?' +'No,' said the sun, 'I have not seen it; but I will give thee a +casket--open it when thy hour of need comes.' + +So she thanked the sun, and went on her way till eventide; and when +the moon arose, she cried unto it, and said, 'Thou shinest through the +night, over field and grove--hast thou nowhere seen my white dove?' +'No,' said the moon, 'I cannot help thee but I will give thee an +egg--break it when need comes.' + +Then she thanked the moon, and went on till the night-wind blew; and she +raised up her voice to it, and said, 'Thou blowest through every tree +and under every leaf--hast thou not seen my white dove?' 'No,' said the +night-wind, 'but I will ask three other winds; perhaps they have seen +it.' Then the east wind and the west wind came, and said they too had +not seen it, but the south wind said, 'I have seen the white dove--he +has fled to the Red Sea, and is changed once more into a lion, for the +seven years are passed away, and there he is fighting with a dragon; +and the dragon is an enchanted princess, who seeks to separate him from +you.' Then the night-wind said, 'I will give thee counsel. Go to the +Red Sea; on the right shore stand many rods--count them, and when thou +comest to the eleventh, break it off, and smite the dragon with it; and +so the lion will have the victory, and both of them will appear to you +in their own forms. Then look round and thou wilt see a griffin, winged +like bird, sitting by the Red Sea; jump on to his back with thy beloved +one as quickly as possible, and he will carry you over the waters to +your home. I will also give thee this nut,' continued the night-wind. +'When you are half-way over, throw it down, and out of the waters will +immediately spring up a high nut-tree on which the griffin will be able +to rest, otherwise he would not have the strength to bear you the whole +way; if, therefore, thou dost forget to throw down the nut, he will let +you both fall into the sea.' + +So our poor wanderer went forth, and found all as the night-wind had +said; and she plucked the eleventh rod, and smote the dragon, and the +lion forthwith became a prince, and the dragon a princess again. But +no sooner was the princess released from the spell, than she seized +the prince by the arm and sprang on to the griffin's back, and went off +carrying the prince away with her. + +Thus the unhappy traveller was again forsaken and forlorn; but she +took heart and said, 'As far as the wind blows, and so long as the cock +crows, I will journey on, till I find him once again.' She went on for +a long, long way, till at length she came to the castle whither the +princess had carried the prince; and there was a feast got ready, and +she heard that the wedding was about to be held. 'Heaven aid me now!' +said she; and she took the casket that the sun had given her, and found +that within it lay a dress as dazzling as the sun itself. So she put it +on, and went into the palace, and all the people gazed upon her; and +the dress pleased the bride so much that she asked whether it was to be +sold. 'Not for gold and silver.' said she, 'but for flesh and blood.' +The princess asked what she meant, and she said, 'Let me speak with the +bridegroom this night in his chamber, and I will give thee the dress.' +At last the princess agreed, but she told her chamberlain to give the +prince a sleeping draught, that he might not hear or see her. When +evening came, and the prince had fallen asleep, she was led into +his chamber, and she sat herself down at his feet, and said: 'I have +followed thee seven years. I have been to the sun, the moon, and the +night-wind, to seek thee, and at last I have helped thee to overcome +the dragon. Wilt thou then forget me quite?' But the prince all the time +slept so soundly, that her voice only passed over him, and seemed like +the whistling of the wind among the fir-trees. + +Then poor Lily was led away, and forced to give up the golden dress; and +when she saw that there was no help for her, she went out into a meadow, +and sat herself down and wept. But as she sat she bethought herself of +the egg that the moon had given her; and when she broke it, there ran +out a hen and twelve chickens of pure gold, that played about, and then +nestled under the old one's wings, so as to form the most beautiful +sight in the world. And she rose up and drove them before her, till the +bride saw them from her window, and was so pleased that she came forth +and asked her if she would sell the brood. 'Not for gold or silver, but +for flesh and blood: let me again this evening speak with the bridegroom +in his chamber, and I will give thee the whole brood.' + +Then the princess thought to betray her as before, and agreed to +what she asked: but when the prince went to his chamber he asked +the chamberlain why the wind had whistled so in the night. And the +chamberlain told him all--how he had given him a sleeping draught, and +how a poor maiden had come and spoken to him in his chamber, and was +to come again that night. Then the prince took care to throw away the +sleeping draught; and when Lily came and began again to tell him what +woes had befallen her, and how faithful and true to him she had been, +he knew his beloved wife's voice, and sprang up, and said, 'You have +awakened me as from a dream, for the strange princess had thrown a spell +around me, so that I had altogether forgotten you; but Heaven hath sent +you to me in a lucky hour.' + +And they stole away out of the palace by night unawares, and seated +themselves on the griffin, who flew back with them over the Red Sea. +When they were half-way across Lily let the nut fall into the water, +and immediately a large nut-tree arose from the sea, whereon the griffin +rested for a while, and then carried them safely home. There they found +their child, now grown up to be comely and fair; and after all their +troubles they lived happily together to the end of their days. + + + + +THE FOX AND THE HORSE + +A farmer had a horse that had been an excellent faithful servant to +him: but he was now grown too old to work; so the farmer would give him +nothing more to eat, and said, 'I want you no longer, so take yourself +off out of my stable; I shall not take you back again until you are +stronger than a lion.' Then he opened the door and turned him adrift. + +The poor horse was very melancholy, and wandered up and down in the +wood, seeking some little shelter from the cold wind and rain. Presently +a fox met him: 'What's the matter, my friend?' said he, 'why do you hang +down your head and look so lonely and woe-begone?' 'Ah!' replied the +horse, 'justice and avarice never dwell in one house; my master has +forgotten all that I have done for him so many years, and because I +can no longer work he has turned me adrift, and says unless I become +stronger than a lion he will not take me back again; what chance can I +have of that? he knows I have none, or he would not talk so.' + +However, the fox bid him be of good cheer, and said, 'I will help you; +lie down there, stretch yourself out quite stiff, and pretend to be +dead.' The horse did as he was told, and the fox went straight to the +lion who lived in a cave close by, and said to him, 'A little way off +lies a dead horse; come with me and you may make an excellent meal of +his carcase.' The lion was greatly pleased, and set off immediately; and +when they came to the horse, the fox said, 'You will not be able to eat +him comfortably here; I'll tell you what--I will tie you fast to +his tail, and then you can draw him to your den, and eat him at your +leisure.' + +This advice pleased the lion, so he laid himself down quietly for the +fox to make him fast to the horse. But the fox managed to tie his legs +together and bound all so hard and fast that with all his strength he +could not set himself free. When the work was done, the fox clapped the +horse on the shoulder, and said, 'Jip! Dobbin! Jip!' Then up he sprang, +and moved off, dragging the lion behind him. The beast began to roar +and bellow, till all the birds of the wood flew away for fright; but the +horse let him sing on, and made his way quietly over the fields to his +master's house. + +'Here he is, master,' said he, 'I have got the better of him': and when +the farmer saw his old servant, his heart relented, and he said. 'Thou +shalt stay in thy stable and be well taken care of.' And so the poor old +horse had plenty to eat, and lived--till he died. + + + + +THE BLUE LIGHT + +There was once upon a time a soldier who for many years had served the +king faithfully, but when the war came to an end could serve no longer +because of the many wounds which he had received. The king said to him: +'You may return to your home, I need you no longer, and you will not +receive any more money, for he only receives wages who renders me +service for them.' Then the soldier did not know how to earn a living, +went away greatly troubled, and walked the whole day, until in the +evening he entered a forest. When darkness came on, he saw a light, +which he went up to, and came to a house wherein lived a witch. 'Do give +me one night's lodging, and a little to eat and drink,' said he to +her, 'or I shall starve.' 'Oho!' she answered, 'who gives anything to a +run-away soldier? Yet will I be compassionate, and take you in, if you +will do what I wish.' 'What do you wish?' said the soldier. 'That you +should dig all round my garden for me, tomorrow.' The soldier consented, +and next day laboured with all his strength, but could not finish it by +the evening. 'I see well enough,' said the witch, 'that you can do no +more today, but I will keep you yet another night, in payment for +which you must tomorrow chop me a load of wood, and chop it small.' The +soldier spent the whole day in doing it, and in the evening the witch +proposed that he should stay one night more. 'Tomorrow, you shall only +do me a very trifling piece of work. Behind my house, there is an old +dry well, into which my light has fallen, it burns blue, and never goes +out, and you shall bring it up again.' Next day the old woman took him +to the well, and let him down in a basket. He found the blue light, and +made her a signal to draw him up again. She did draw him up, but when he +came near the edge, she stretched down her hand and wanted to take the +blue light away from him. 'No,' said he, perceiving her evil intention, +'I will not give you the light until I am standing with both feet upon +the ground.' The witch fell into a passion, let him fall again into the +well, and went away. + +The poor soldier fell without injury on the moist ground, and the blue +light went on burning, but of what use was that to him? He saw very well +that he could not escape death. He sat for a while very sorrowfully, +then suddenly he felt in his pocket and found his tobacco pipe, which +was still half full. 'This shall be my last pleasure,' thought he, +pulled it out, lit it at the blue light and began to smoke. When the +smoke had circled about the cavern, suddenly a little black dwarf stood +before him, and said: 'Lord, what are your commands?' 'What my commands +are?' replied the soldier, quite astonished. 'I must do everything you +bid me,' said the little man. 'Good,' said the soldier; 'then in the +first place help me out of this well.' The little man took him by the +hand, and led him through an underground passage, but he did not forget +to take the blue light with him. On the way the dwarf showed him the +treasures which the witch had collected and hidden there, and the +soldier took as much gold as he could carry. When he was above, he said +to the little man: 'Now go and bind the old witch, and carry her before +the judge.' In a short time she came by like the wind, riding on a wild +tom-cat and screaming frightfully. Nor was it long before the little man +reappeared. 'It is all done,' said he, 'and the witch is already hanging +on the gallows. What further commands has my lord?' inquired the dwarf. +'At this moment, none,' answered the soldier; 'you can return home, only +be at hand immediately, if I summon you.' 'Nothing more is needed than +that you should light your pipe at the blue light, and I will appear +before you at once.' Thereupon he vanished from his sight. + +The soldier returned to the town from which he came. He went to the +best inn, ordered himself handsome clothes, and then bade the landlord +furnish him a room as handsome as possible. When it was ready and the +soldier had taken possession of it, he summoned the little black manikin +and said: 'I have served the king faithfully, but he has dismissed me, +and left me to hunger, and now I want to take my revenge.' 'What am I to +do?' asked the little man. 'Late at night, when the king's daughter is +in bed, bring her here in her sleep, she shall do servant's work for +me.' The manikin said: 'That is an easy thing for me to do, but a very +dangerous thing for you, for if it is discovered, you will fare ill.' +When twelve o'clock had struck, the door sprang open, and the manikin +carried in the princess. 'Aha! are you there?' cried the soldier, 'get +to your work at once! Fetch the broom and sweep the chamber.' When +she had done this, he ordered her to come to his chair, and then he +stretched out his feet and said: 'Pull off my boots,' and then he +threw them in her face, and made her pick them up again, and clean +and brighten them. She, however, did everything he bade her, without +opposition, silently and with half-shut eyes. When the first cock +crowed, the manikin carried her back to the royal palace, and laid her +in her bed. + +Next morning when the princess arose she went to her father, and told +him that she had had a very strange dream. 'I was carried through the +streets with the rapidity of lightning,' said she, 'and taken into a +soldier's room, and I had to wait upon him like a servant, sweep his +room, clean his boots, and do all kinds of menial work. It was only a +dream, and yet I am just as tired as if I really had done everything.' +'The dream may have been true,' said the king. 'I will give you a piece +of advice. Fill your pocket full of peas, and make a small hole in the +pocket, and then if you are carried away again, they will fall out and +leave a track in the streets.' But unseen by the king, the manikin was +standing beside him when he said that, and heard all. At night when +the sleeping princess was again carried through the streets, some peas +certainly did fall out of her pocket, but they made no track, for the +crafty manikin had just before scattered peas in every street there +was. And again the princess was compelled to do servant's work until +cock-crow. + +Next morning the king sent his people out to seek the track, but it was +all in vain, for in every street poor children were sitting, picking up +peas, and saying: 'It must have rained peas, last night.' 'We must think +of something else,' said the king; 'keep your shoes on when you go to +bed, and before you come back from the place where you are taken, hide +one of them there, I will soon contrive to find it.' The black manikin +heard this plot, and at night when the soldier again ordered him to +bring the princess, revealed it to him, and told him that he knew of no +expedient to counteract this stratagem, and that if the shoe were found +in the soldier's house it would go badly with him. 'Do what I bid you,' +replied the soldier, and again this third night the princess was obliged +to work like a servant, but before she went away, she hid her shoe under +the bed. + +Next morning the king had the entire town searched for his daughter's +shoe. It was found at the soldier's, and the soldier himself, who at the +entreaty of the dwarf had gone outside the gate, was soon brought back, +and thrown into prison. In his flight he had forgotten the most valuable +things he had, the blue light and the gold, and had only one ducat in +his pocket. And now loaded with chains, he was standing at the window of +his dungeon, when he chanced to see one of his comrades passing by. The +soldier tapped at the pane of glass, and when this man came up, said to +him: 'Be so kind as to fetch me the small bundle I have left lying in +the inn, and I will give you a ducat for doing it.' His comrade ran +thither and brought him what he wanted. As soon as the soldier was alone +again, he lighted his pipe and summoned the black manikin. 'Have no +fear,' said the latter to his master. 'Go wheresoever they take you, and +let them do what they will, only take the blue light with you.' Next day +the soldier was tried, and though he had done nothing wicked, the judge +condemned him to death. When he was led forth to die, he begged a last +favour of the king. 'What is it?' asked the king. 'That I may smoke one +more pipe on my way.' 'You may smoke three,' answered the king, 'but do +not imagine that I will spare your life.' Then the soldier pulled out +his pipe and lighted it at the blue light, and as soon as a few wreaths +of smoke had ascended, the manikin was there with a small cudgel in his +hand, and said: 'What does my lord command?' 'Strike down to earth that +false judge there, and his constable, and spare not the king who has +treated me so ill.' Then the manikin fell on them like lightning, +darting this way and that way, and whosoever was so much as touched by +his cudgel fell to earth, and did not venture to stir again. The king +was terrified; he threw himself on the soldier's mercy, and merely to +be allowed to live at all, gave him his kingdom for his own, and his +daughter to wife. + + + + +THE RAVEN + +There was once a queen who had a little daughter, still too young to run +alone. One day the child was very troublesome, and the mother could not +quiet it, do what she would. She grew impatient, and seeing the ravens +flying round the castle, she opened the window, and said: 'I wish you +were a raven and would fly away, then I should have a little peace.' +Scarcely were the words out of her mouth, when the child in her arms was +turned into a raven, and flew away from her through the open window. The +bird took its flight to a dark wood and remained there for a long time, +and meanwhile the parents could hear nothing of their child. + +Long after this, a man was making his way through the wood when he heard +a raven calling, and he followed the sound of the voice. As he drew +near, the raven said, 'I am by birth a king's daughter, but am now under +the spell of some enchantment; you can, however, set me free.' 'What +am I to do?' he asked. She replied, 'Go farther into the wood until you +come to a house, wherein lives an old woman; she will offer you food and +drink, but you must not take of either; if you do, you will fall into +a deep sleep, and will not be able to help me. In the garden behind the +house is a large tan-heap, and on that you must stand and watch for me. +I shall drive there in my carriage at two o'clock in the afternoon for +three successive days; the first day it will be drawn by four white, the +second by four chestnut, and the last by four black horses; but if you +fail to keep awake and I find you sleeping, I shall not be set free.' + +The man promised to do all that she wished, but the raven said, 'Alas! I +know even now that you will take something from the woman and be unable +to save me.' The man assured her again that he would on no account touch +a thing to eat or drink. + +When he came to the house and went inside, the old woman met him, and +said, 'Poor man! how tired you are! Come in and rest and let me give you +something to eat and drink.' + +'No,' answered the man, 'I will neither eat not drink.' + +But she would not leave him alone, and urged him saying, 'If you will +not eat anything, at least you might take a draught of wine; one drink +counts for nothing,' and at last he allowed himself to be persuaded, and +drank. + +As it drew towards the appointed hour, he went outside into the garden +and mounted the tan-heap to await the raven. Suddenly a feeling of +fatigue came over him, and unable to resist it, he lay down for a little +while, fully determined, however, to keep awake; but in another minute +his eyes closed of their own accord, and he fell into such a deep sleep, +that all the noises in the world would not have awakened him. At two +o'clock the raven came driving along, drawn by her four white horses; +but even before she reached the spot, she said to herself, sighing, 'I +know he has fallen asleep.' When she entered the garden, there she found +him as she had feared, lying on the tan-heap, fast asleep. She got out +of her carriage and went to him; she called him and shook him, but it +was all in vain, he still continued sleeping. + +The next day at noon, the old woman came to him again with food and +drink which he at first refused. At last, overcome by her persistent +entreaties that he would take something, he lifted the glass and drank +again. + +Towards two o'clock he went into the garden and on to the tan-heap to +watch for the raven. He had not been there long before he began to feel +so tired that his limbs seemed hardly able to support him, and he could +not stand upright any longer; so again he lay down and fell fast asleep. +As the raven drove along her four chestnut horses, she said sorrowfully +to herself, 'I know he has fallen asleep.' She went as before to look +for him, but he slept, and it was impossible to awaken him. + +The following day the old woman said to him, 'What is this? You are not +eating or drinking anything, do you want to kill yourself?' + +He answered, 'I may not and will not either eat or drink.' + +But she put down the dish of food and the glass of wine in front of him, +and when he smelt the wine, he was unable to resist the temptation, and +took a deep draught. + +When the hour came round again he went as usual on to the tan-heap in +the garden to await the king's daughter, but he felt even more overcome +with weariness than on the two previous days, and throwing himself down, +he slept like a log. At two o'clock the raven could be seen approaching, +and this time her coachman and everything about her, as well as her +horses, were black. + +She was sadder than ever as she drove along, and said mournfully, 'I +know he has fallen asleep, and will not be able to set me free.' She +found him sleeping heavily, and all her efforts to awaken him were of no +avail. Then she placed beside him a loaf, and some meat, and a flask +of wine, of such a kind, that however much he took of them, they would +never grow less. After that she drew a gold ring, on which her name was +engraved, off her finger, and put it upon one of his. Finally, she laid +a letter near him, in which, after giving him particulars of the food +and drink she had left for him, she finished with the following words: +'I see that as long as you remain here you will never be able to set me +free; if, however, you still wish to do so, come to the golden castle +of Stromberg; this is well within your power to accomplish.' She then +returned to her carriage and drove to the golden castle of Stromberg. + +When the man awoke and found that he had been sleeping, he was grieved +at heart, and said, 'She has no doubt been here and driven away again, +and it is now too late for me to save her.' Then his eyes fell on the +things which were lying beside him; he read the letter, and knew from it +all that had happened. He rose up without delay, eager to start on his +way and to reach the castle of Stromberg, but he had no idea in which +direction he ought to go. He travelled about a long time in search of it +and came at last to a dark forest, through which he went on walking for +fourteen days and still could not find a way out. Once more the night +came on, and worn out he lay down under a bush and fell asleep. Again +the next day he pursued his way through the forest, and that evening, +thinking to rest again, he lay down as before, but he heard such a +howling and wailing that he found it impossible to sleep. He waited till +it was darker and people had begun to light up their houses, and then +seeing a little glimmer ahead of him, he went towards it. + +He found that the light came from a house which looked smaller than +it really was, from the contrast of its height with that of an immense +giant who stood in front of it. He thought to himself, 'If the giant +sees me going in, my life will not be worth much.' However, after a +while he summoned up courage and went forward. When the giant saw him, +he called out, 'It is lucky for that you have come, for I have not had +anything to eat for a long time. I can have you now for my supper.' 'I +would rather you let that alone,' said the man, 'for I do not willingly +give myself up to be eaten; if you are wanting food I have enough to +satisfy your hunger.' 'If that is so,' replied the giant, 'I will leave +you in peace; I only thought of eating you because I had nothing else.' + +So they went indoors together and sat down, and the man brought out the +bread, meat, and wine, which although he had eaten and drunk of them, +were still unconsumed. The giant was pleased with the good cheer, and +ate and drank to his heart's content. When he had finished his supper +the man asked him if he could direct him to the castle of Stromberg. +The giant said, 'I will look on my map; on it are marked all the towns, +villages, and houses.' So he fetched his map, and looked for the castle, +but could not find it. 'Never mind,' he said, 'I have larger maps +upstairs in the cupboard, we will look on those,' but they searched in +vain, for the castle was not marked even on these. The man now thought +he should like to continue his journey, but the giant begged him to +remain for a day or two longer until the return of his brother, who was +away in search of provisions. When the brother came home, they asked him +about the castle of Stromberg, and he told them he would look on his own +maps as soon as he had eaten and appeased his hunger. Accordingly, when +he had finished his supper, they all went up together to his room and +looked through his maps, but the castle was not to be found. Then he +fetched other older maps, and they went on looking for the castle until +at last they found it, but it was many thousand miles away. 'How shall I +be able to get there?' asked the man. 'I have two hours to spare,' said +the giant, 'and I will carry you into the neighbourhood of the castle; I +must then return to look after the child who is in our care.' + +The giant, thereupon, carried the man to within about a hundred leagues +of the castle, where he left him, saying, 'You will be able to walk the +remainder of the way yourself.' The man journeyed on day and night +till he reached the golden castle of Stromberg. He found it situated, +however, on a glass mountain, and looking up from the foot he saw the +enchanted maiden drive round her castle and then go inside. He was +overjoyed to see her, and longed to get to the top of the mountain, but +the sides were so slippery that every time he attempted to climb he +fell back again. When he saw that it was impossible to reach her, he was +greatly grieved, and said to himself, 'I will remain here and wait for +her,' so he built himself a little hut, and there he sat and watched for +a whole year, and every day he saw the king's daughter driving round her +castle, but still was unable to get nearer to her. + +Looking out from his hut one day he saw three robbers fighting and he +called out to them, 'God be with you.' They stopped when they heard the +call, but looking round and seeing nobody, they went on again with their +fighting, which now became more furious. 'God be with you,' he cried +again, and again they paused and looked about, but seeing no one went +back to their fighting. A third time he called out, 'God be with you,' +and then thinking he should like to know the cause of dispute between +the three men, he went out and asked them why they were fighting so +angrily with one another. One of them said that he had found a stick, +and that he had but to strike it against any door through which he +wished to pass, and it immediately flew open. Another told him that he +had found a cloak which rendered its wearer invisible; and the third had +caught a horse which would carry its rider over any obstacle, and even +up the glass mountain. They had been unable to decide whether they +would keep together and have the things in common, or whether they would +separate. On hearing this, the man said, 'I will give you something in +exchange for those three things; not money, for that I have not got, +but something that is of far more value. I must first, however, prove +whether all you have told me about your three things is true.' The +robbers, therefore, made him get on the horse, and handed him the stick +and the cloak, and when he had put this round him he was no longer +visible. Then he fell upon them with the stick and beat them one after +another, crying, 'There, you idle vagabonds, you have got what you +deserve; are you satisfied now!' + +After this he rode up the glass mountain. When he reached the gate of +the castle, he found it closed, but he gave it a blow with his stick, +and it flew wide open at once and he passed through. He mounted the +steps and entered the room where the maiden was sitting, with a golden +goblet full of wine in front of her. She could not see him for he still +wore his cloak. He took the ring which she had given him off his finger, +and threw it into the goblet, so that it rang as it touched the bottom. +'That is my own ring,' she exclaimed, 'and if that is so the man must +also be here who is coming to set me free.' + +She sought for him about the castle, but could find him nowhere. +Meanwhile he had gone outside again and mounted his horse and thrown off +the cloak. When therefore she came to the castle gate she saw him, and +cried aloud for joy. Then he dismounted and took her in his arms; and +she kissed him, and said, 'Now you have indeed set me free, and tomorrow +we will celebrate our marriage.' + + + + +THE GOLDEN GOOSE + +There was a man who had three sons, the youngest of whom was called +Dummling,[*] and was despised, mocked, and sneered at on every occasion. + +It happened that the eldest wanted to go into the forest to hew wood, +and before he went his mother gave him a beautiful sweet cake and a +bottle of wine in order that he might not suffer from hunger or thirst. + +When he entered the forest he met a little grey-haired old man who bade +him good day, and said: 'Do give me a piece of cake out of your pocket, +and let me have a draught of your wine; I am so hungry and thirsty.' But +the clever son answered: 'If I give you my cake and wine, I shall have +none for myself; be off with you,' and he left the little man standing +and went on. + +But when he began to hew down a tree, it was not long before he made a +false stroke, and the axe cut him in the arm, so that he had to go home +and have it bound up. And this was the little grey man's doing. + +After this the second son went into the forest, and his mother gave him, +like the eldest, a cake and a bottle of wine. The little old grey man +met him likewise, and asked him for a piece of cake and a drink of wine. +But the second son, too, said sensibly enough: 'What I give you will be +taken away from myself; be off!' and he left the little man standing and +went on. His punishment, however, was not delayed; when he had made a +few blows at the tree he struck himself in the leg, so that he had to be +carried home. + +Then Dummling said: 'Father, do let me go and cut wood.' The father +answered: 'Your brothers have hurt themselves with it, leave it alone, +you do not understand anything about it.' But Dummling begged so long +that at last he said: 'Just go then, you will get wiser by hurting +yourself.' His mother gave him a cake made with water and baked in the +cinders, and with it a bottle of sour beer. + +When he came to the forest the little old grey man met him likewise, +and greeting him, said: 'Give me a piece of your cake and a drink out +of your bottle; I am so hungry and thirsty.' Dummling answered: 'I have +only cinder-cake and sour beer; if that pleases you, we will sit +down and eat.' So they sat down, and when Dummling pulled out his +cinder-cake, it was a fine sweet cake, and the sour beer had become good +wine. So they ate and drank, and after that the little man said: 'Since +you have a good heart, and are willing to divide what you have, I will +give you good luck. There stands an old tree, cut it down, and you will +find something at the roots.' Then the little man took leave of him. + +Dummling went and cut down the tree, and when it fell there was a goose +sitting in the roots with feathers of pure gold. He lifted her up, and +taking her with him, went to an inn where he thought he would stay the +night. Now the host had three daughters, who saw the goose and were +curious to know what such a wonderful bird might be, and would have +liked to have one of its golden feathers. + +The eldest thought: 'I shall soon find an opportunity of pulling out a +feather,' and as soon as Dummling had gone out she seized the goose by +the wing, but her finger and hand remained sticking fast to it. + +The second came soon afterwards, thinking only of how she might get a +feather for herself, but she had scarcely touched her sister than she +was held fast. + +At last the third also came with the like intent, and the others +screamed out: 'Keep away; for goodness' sake keep away!' But she did +not understand why she was to keep away. 'The others are there,' she +thought, 'I may as well be there too,' and ran to them; but as soon as +she had touched her sister, she remained sticking fast to her. So they +had to spend the night with the goose. + +The next morning Dummling took the goose under his arm and set out, +without troubling himself about the three girls who were hanging on to +it. They were obliged to run after him continually, now left, now right, +wherever his legs took him. + +In the middle of the fields the parson met them, and when he saw the +procession he said: 'For shame, you good-for-nothing girls, why are you +running across the fields after this young man? Is that seemly?' At the +same time he seized the youngest by the hand in order to pull her away, +but as soon as he touched her he likewise stuck fast, and was himself +obliged to run behind. + +Before long the sexton came by and saw his master, the parson, running +behind three girls. He was astonished at this and called out: 'Hi! +your reverence, whither away so quickly? Do not forget that we have a +christening today!' and running after him he took him by the sleeve, but +was also held fast to it. + +Whilst the five were trotting thus one behind the other, two labourers +came with their hoes from the fields; the parson called out to them +and begged that they would set him and the sexton free. But they had +scarcely touched the sexton when they were held fast, and now there were +seven of them running behind Dummling and the goose. + +Soon afterwards he came to a city, where a king ruled who had a daughter +who was so serious that no one could make her laugh. So he had put forth +a decree that whosoever should be able to make her laugh should marry +her. When Dummling heard this, he went with his goose and all her train +before the king's daughter, and as soon as she saw the seven people +running on and on, one behind the other, she began to laugh quite +loudly, and as if she would never stop. Thereupon Dummling asked to have +her for his wife; but the king did not like the son-in-law, and made all +manner of excuses and said he must first produce a man who could drink +a cellarful of wine. Dummling thought of the little grey man, who could +certainly help him; so he went into the forest, and in the same place +where he had felled the tree, he saw a man sitting, who had a very +sorrowful face. Dummling asked him what he was taking to heart so +sorely, and he answered: 'I have such a great thirst and cannot quench +it; cold water I cannot stand, a barrel of wine I have just emptied, but +that to me is like a drop on a hot stone!' + +'There, I can help you,' said Dummling, 'just come with me and you shall +be satisfied.' + +He led him into the king's cellar, and the man bent over the huge +barrels, and drank and drank till his loins hurt, and before the day was +out he had emptied all the barrels. Then Dummling asked once more +for his bride, but the king was vexed that such an ugly fellow, whom +everyone called Dummling, should take away his daughter, and he made a +new condition; he must first find a man who could eat a whole mountain +of bread. Dummling did not think long, but went straight into the +forest, where in the same place there sat a man who was tying up his +body with a strap, and making an awful face, and saying: 'I have eaten a +whole ovenful of rolls, but what good is that when one has such a hunger +as I? My stomach remains empty, and I must tie myself up if I am not to +die of hunger.' + +At this Dummling was glad, and said: 'Get up and come with me; you shall +eat yourself full.' He led him to the king's palace where all the +flour in the whole Kingdom was collected, and from it he caused a huge +mountain of bread to be baked. The man from the forest stood before it, +began to eat, and by the end of one day the whole mountain had vanished. +Then Dummling for the third time asked for his bride; but the king again +sought a way out, and ordered a ship which could sail on land and on +water. 'As soon as you come sailing back in it,' said he, 'you shall +have my daughter for wife.' + +Dummling went straight into the forest, and there sat the little grey +man to whom he had given his cake. When he heard what Dummling wanted, +he said: 'Since you have given me to eat and to drink, I will give you +the ship; and I do all this because you once were kind to me.' Then he +gave him the ship which could sail on land and water, and when the king +saw that, he could no longer prevent him from having his daughter. The +wedding was celebrated, and after the king's death, Dummling inherited +his kingdom and lived for a long time contentedly with his wife. + + [*] Simpleton + + + + +THE WATER OF LIFE + +Long before you or I were born, there reigned, in a country a great way +off, a king who had three sons. This king once fell very ill--so ill +that nobody thought he could live. His sons were very much grieved +at their father's sickness; and as they were walking together very +mournfully in the garden of the palace, a little old man met them and +asked what was the matter. They told him that their father was very ill, +and that they were afraid nothing could save him. 'I know what would,' +said the little old man; 'it is the Water of Life. If he could have a +draught of it he would be well again; but it is very hard to get.' Then +the eldest son said, 'I will soon find it': and he went to the sick +king, and begged that he might go in search of the Water of Life, as +it was the only thing that could save him. 'No,' said the king. 'I had +rather die than place you in such great danger as you must meet with in +your journey.' But he begged so hard that the king let him go; and the +prince thought to himself, 'If I bring my father this water, he will +make me sole heir to his kingdom.' + +Then he set out: and when he had gone on his way some time he came to a +deep valley, overhung with rocks and woods; and as he looked around, he +saw standing above him on one of the rocks a little ugly dwarf, with a +sugarloaf cap and a scarlet cloak; and the dwarf called to him and said, +'Prince, whither so fast?' 'What is that to thee, you ugly imp?' said +the prince haughtily, and rode on. + +But the dwarf was enraged at his behaviour, and laid a fairy spell +of ill-luck upon him; so that as he rode on the mountain pass became +narrower and narrower, and at last the way was so straitened that he +could not go to step forward: and when he thought to have turned his +horse round and go back the way he came, he heard a loud laugh ringing +round him, and found that the path was closed behind him, so that he was +shut in all round. He next tried to get off his horse and make his way +on foot, but again the laugh rang in his ears, and he found himself +unable to move a step, and thus he was forced to abide spellbound. + +Meantime the old king was lingering on in daily hope of his son's +return, till at last the second son said, 'Father, I will go in search +of the Water of Life.' For he thought to himself, 'My brother is surely +dead, and the kingdom will fall to me if I find the water.' The king was +at first very unwilling to let him go, but at last yielded to his wish. +So he set out and followed the same road which his brother had done, +and met with the same elf, who stopped him at the same spot in the +mountains, saying, as before, 'Prince, prince, whither so fast?' 'Mind +your own affairs, busybody!' said the prince scornfully, and rode on. + +But the dwarf put the same spell upon him as he put on his elder +brother, and he, too, was at last obliged to take up his abode in the +heart of the mountains. Thus it is with proud silly people, who think +themselves above everyone else, and are too proud to ask or take advice. + +When the second prince had thus been gone a long time, the youngest son +said he would go and search for the Water of Life, and trusted he should +soon be able to make his father well again. So he set out, and the dwarf +met him too at the same spot in the valley, among the mountains, and +said, 'Prince, whither so fast?' And the prince said, 'I am going in +search of the Water of Life, because my father is ill, and like to die: +can you help me? Pray be kind, and aid me if you can!' 'Do you know +where it is to be found?' asked the dwarf. 'No,' said the prince, 'I do +not. Pray tell me if you know.' 'Then as you have spoken to me kindly, +and are wise enough to seek for advice, I will tell you how and where to +go. The water you seek springs from a well in an enchanted castle; and, +that you may be able to reach it in safety, I will give you an iron wand +and two little loaves of bread; strike the iron door of the castle three +times with the wand, and it will open: two hungry lions will be lying +down inside gaping for their prey, but if you throw them the bread they +will let you pass; then hasten on to the well, and take some of the +Water of Life before the clock strikes twelve; for if you tarry longer +the door will shut upon you for ever.' + +Then the prince thanked his little friend with the scarlet cloak for his +friendly aid, and took the wand and the bread, and went travelling on +and on, over sea and over land, till he came to his journey's end, and +found everything to be as the dwarf had told him. The door flew open at +the third stroke of the wand, and when the lions were quieted he went on +through the castle and came at length to a beautiful hall. Around it he +saw several knights sitting in a trance; then he pulled off their rings +and put them on his own fingers. In another room he saw on a table a +sword and a loaf of bread, which he also took. Further on he came to a +room where a beautiful young lady sat upon a couch; and she welcomed him +joyfully, and said, if he would set her free from the spell that bound +her, the kingdom should be his, if he would come back in a year and +marry her. Then she told him that the well that held the Water of Life +was in the palace gardens; and bade him make haste, and draw what he +wanted before the clock struck twelve. + +He walked on; and as he walked through beautiful gardens he came to a +delightful shady spot in which stood a couch; and he thought to himself, +as he felt tired, that he would rest himself for a while, and gaze on +the lovely scenes around him. So he laid himself down, and sleep +fell upon him unawares, so that he did not wake up till the clock was +striking a quarter to twelve. Then he sprang from the couch dreadfully +frightened, ran to the well, filled a cup that was standing by him full +of water, and hastened to get away in time. Just as he was going out of +the iron door it struck twelve, and the door fell so quickly upon him +that it snapped off a piece of his heel. + +When he found himself safe, he was overjoyed to think that he had got +the Water of Life; and as he was going on his way homewards, he passed +by the little dwarf, who, when he saw the sword and the loaf, said, 'You +have made a noble prize; with the sword you can at a blow slay whole +armies, and the bread will never fail you.' Then the prince thought +to himself, 'I cannot go home to my father without my brothers'; so he +said, 'My dear friend, cannot you tell me where my two brothers are, who +set out in search of the Water of Life before me, and never came back?' +'I have shut them up by a charm between two mountains,' said the dwarf, +'because they were proud and ill-behaved, and scorned to ask advice.' +The prince begged so hard for his brothers, that the dwarf at last set +them free, though unwillingly, saying, 'Beware of them, for they have +bad hearts.' Their brother, however, was greatly rejoiced to see them, +and told them all that had happened to him; how he had found the Water +of Life, and had taken a cup full of it; and how he had set a beautiful +princess free from a spell that bound her; and how she had engaged to +wait a whole year, and then to marry him, and to give him the kingdom. + +Then they all three rode on together, and on their way home came to a +country that was laid waste by war and a dreadful famine, so that it was +feared all must die for want. But the prince gave the king of the land +the bread, and all his kingdom ate of it. And he lent the king the +wonderful sword, and he slew the enemy's army with it; and thus the +kingdom was once more in peace and plenty. In the same manner he +befriended two other countries through which they passed on their way. + +When they came to the sea, they got into a ship and during their voyage +the two eldest said to themselves, 'Our brother has got the water which +we could not find, therefore our father will forsake us and give him the +kingdom, which is our right'; so they were full of envy and revenge, and +agreed together how they could ruin him. Then they waited till he was +fast asleep, and poured the Water of Life out of the cup, and took it +for themselves, giving him bitter sea-water instead. + +When they came to their journey's end, the youngest son brought his cup +to the sick king, that he might drink and be healed. Scarcely, however, +had he tasted the bitter sea-water when he became worse even than he was +before; and then both the elder sons came in, and blamed the youngest +for what they had done; and said that he wanted to poison their father, +but that they had found the Water of Life, and had brought it with them. +He no sooner began to drink of what they brought him, than he felt his +sickness leave him, and was as strong and well as in his younger days. +Then they went to their brother, and laughed at him, and said, 'Well, +brother, you found the Water of Life, did you? You have had the trouble +and we shall have the reward. Pray, with all your cleverness, why did +not you manage to keep your eyes open? Next year one of us will take +away your beautiful princess, if you do not take care. You had better +say nothing about this to our father, for he does not believe a word you +say; and if you tell tales, you shall lose your life into the bargain: +but be quiet, and we will let you off.' + +The old king was still very angry with his youngest son, and thought +that he really meant to have taken away his life; so he called his court +together, and asked what should be done, and all agreed that he ought to +be put to death. The prince knew nothing of what was going on, till one +day, when the king's chief huntsmen went a-hunting with him, and they +were alone in the wood together, the huntsman looked so sorrowful that +the prince said, 'My friend, what is the matter with you?' 'I cannot and +dare not tell you,' said he. But the prince begged very hard, and said, +'Only tell me what it is, and do not think I shall be angry, for I will +forgive you.' 'Alas!' said the huntsman; 'the king has ordered me to +shoot you.' The prince started at this, and said, 'Let me live, and I +will change dresses with you; you shall take my royal coat to show to my +father, and do you give me your shabby one.' 'With all my heart,' said +the huntsman; 'I am sure I shall be glad to save you, for I could not +have shot you.' Then he took the prince's coat, and gave him the shabby +one, and went away through the wood. + +Some time after, three grand embassies came to the old king's court, +with rich gifts of gold and precious stones for his youngest son; now +all these were sent from the three kings to whom he had lent his sword +and loaf of bread, in order to rid them of their enemy and feed their +people. This touched the old king's heart, and he thought his son might +still be guiltless, and said to his court, 'O that my son were still +alive! how it grieves me that I had him killed!' 'He is still alive,' +said the huntsman; 'and I am glad that I had pity on him, but let him +go in peace, and brought home his royal coat.' At this the king was +overwhelmed with joy, and made it known throughout all his kingdom, that +if his son would come back to his court he would forgive him. + +Meanwhile the princess was eagerly waiting till her deliverer should +come back; and had a road made leading up to her palace all of shining +gold; and told her courtiers that whoever came on horseback, and rode +straight up to the gate upon it, was her true lover; and that they must +let him in: but whoever rode on one side of it, they must be sure was +not the right one; and that they must send him away at once. + +The time soon came, when the eldest brother thought that he would make +haste to go to the princess, and say that he was the one who had set +her free, and that he should have her for his wife, and the kingdom with +her. As he came before the palace and saw the golden road, he stopped to +look at it, and he thought to himself, 'It is a pity to ride upon this +beautiful road'; so he turned aside and rode on the right-hand side of +it. But when he came to the gate, the guards, who had seen the road +he took, said to him, he could not be what he said he was, and must go +about his business. + +The second prince set out soon afterwards on the same errand; and when +he came to the golden road, and his horse had set one foot upon it, +he stopped to look at it, and thought it very beautiful, and said to +himself, 'What a pity it is that anything should tread here!' Then he +too turned aside and rode on the left side of it. But when he came to +the gate the guards said he was not the true prince, and that he too +must go away about his business; and away he went. + +Now when the full year was come round, the third brother left the forest +in which he had lain hid for fear of his father's anger, and set out in +search of his betrothed bride. So he journeyed on, thinking of her all +the way, and rode so quickly that he did not even see what the road was +made of, but went with his horse straight over it; and as he came to the +gate it flew open, and the princess welcomed him with joy, and said +he was her deliverer, and should now be her husband and lord of the +kingdom. When the first joy at their meeting was over, the princess told +him she had heard of his father having forgiven him, and of his wish to +have him home again: so, before his wedding with the princess, he went +to visit his father, taking her with him. Then he told him everything; +how his brothers had cheated and robbed him, and yet that he had borne +all those wrongs for the love of his father. And the old king was very +angry, and wanted to punish his wicked sons; but they made their escape, +and got into a ship and sailed away over the wide sea, and where they +went to nobody knew and nobody cared. + +And now the old king gathered together his court, and asked all his +kingdom to come and celebrate the wedding of his son and the princess. +And young and old, noble and squire, gentle and simple, came at once +on the summons; and among the rest came the friendly dwarf, with the +sugarloaf hat, and a new scarlet cloak. + + And the wedding was held, and the merry bells run. + And all the good people they danced and they sung, + And feasted and frolick'd I can't tell how long. + + + + +THE TWELVE HUNTSMEN + +There was once a king's son who had a bride whom he loved very much. And +when he was sitting beside her and very happy, news came that his father +lay sick unto death, and desired to see him once again before his end. +Then he said to his beloved: 'I must now go and leave you, I give you +a ring as a remembrance of me. When I am king, I will return and fetch +you.' So he rode away, and when he reached his father, the latter was +dangerously ill, and near his death. He said to him: 'Dear son, I wished +to see you once again before my end, promise me to marry as I wish,' and +he named a certain king's daughter who was to be his wife. The son was +in such trouble that he did not think what he was doing, and said: 'Yes, +dear father, your will shall be done,' and thereupon the king shut his +eyes, and died. + +When therefore the son had been proclaimed king, and the time of +mourning was over, he was forced to keep the promise which he had given +his father, and caused the king's daughter to be asked in marriage, and +she was promised to him. His first betrothed heard of this, and fretted +so much about his faithfulness that she nearly died. Then her father +said to her: 'Dearest child, why are you so sad? You shall have +whatsoever you will.' She thought for a moment and said: 'Dear father, +I wish for eleven girls exactly like myself in face, figure, and size.' +The father said: 'If it be possible, your desire shall be fulfilled,' +and he caused a search to be made in his whole kingdom, until eleven +young maidens were found who exactly resembled his daughter in face, +figure, and size. + +When they came to the king's daughter, she had twelve suits of +huntsmen's clothes made, all alike, and the eleven maidens had to put +on the huntsmen's clothes, and she herself put on the twelfth suit. +Thereupon she took her leave of her father, and rode away with them, +and rode to the court of her former betrothed, whom she loved so dearly. +Then she asked if he required any huntsmen, and if he would take all of +them into his service. The king looked at her and did not know her, but +as they were such handsome fellows, he said: 'Yes,' and that he would +willingly take them, and now they were the king's twelve huntsmen. + +The king, however, had a lion which was a wondrous animal, for he knew +all concealed and secret things. It came to pass that one evening he +said to the king: 'You think you have twelve huntsmen?' 'Yes,' said the +king, 'they are twelve huntsmen.' The lion continued: 'You are mistaken, +they are twelve girls.' The king said: 'That cannot be true! How +will you prove that to me?' 'Oh, just let some peas be strewn in the +ante-chamber,' answered the lion, 'and then you will soon see. Men have +a firm step, and when they walk over peas none of them stir, but girls +trip and skip, and drag their feet, and the peas roll about.' The king +was well pleased with the counsel, and caused the peas to be strewn. + +There was, however, a servant of the king's who favoured the huntsmen, +and when he heard that they were going to be put to this test he went to +them and repeated everything, and said: 'The lion wants to make the king +believe that you are girls.' Then the king's daughter thanked him, and +said to her maidens: 'Show some strength, and step firmly on the peas.' +So next morning when the king had the twelve huntsmen called before +him, and they came into the ante-chamber where the peas were lying, they +stepped so firmly on them, and had such a strong, sure walk, that not +one of the peas either rolled or stirred. Then they went away again, +and the king said to the lion: 'You have lied to me, they walk just like +men.' The lion said: 'They have been informed that they were going to +be put to the test, and have assumed some strength. Just let twelve +spinning-wheels be brought into the ante-chamber, and they will go to +them and be pleased with them, and that is what no man would do.' +The king liked the advice, and had the spinning-wheels placed in the +ante-chamber. + +But the servant, who was well disposed to the huntsmen, went to them, +and disclosed the project. So when they were alone the king's daughter +said to her eleven girls: 'Show some constraint, and do not look round +at the spinning-wheels.' And next morning when the king had his twelve +huntsmen summoned, they went through the ante-chamber, and never once +looked at the spinning-wheels. Then the king again said to the lion: +'You have deceived me, they are men, for they have not looked at the +spinning-wheels.' The lion replied: 'They have restrained themselves.' +The king, however, would no longer believe the lion. + +The twelve huntsmen always followed the king to the chase, and his +liking for them continually increased. Now it came to pass that +once when they were out hunting, news came that the king's bride was +approaching. When the true bride heard that, it hurt her so much that +her heart was almost broken, and she fell fainting to the ground. The +king thought something had happened to his dear huntsman, ran up to him, +wanted to help him, and drew his glove off. Then he saw the ring which +he had given to his first bride, and when he looked in her face he +recognized her. Then his heart was so touched that he kissed her, and +when she opened her eyes he said: 'You are mine, and I am yours, and +no one in the world can alter that.' He sent a messenger to the other +bride, and entreated her to return to her own kingdom, for he had a wife +already, and someone who had just found an old key did not require a new +one. Thereupon the wedding was celebrated, and the lion was again taken +into favour, because, after all, he had told the truth. + + + + +THE KING OF THE GOLDEN MOUNTAIN + +There was once a merchant who had only one child, a son, that was very +young, and barely able to run alone. He had two richly laden ships then +making a voyage upon the seas, in which he had embarked all his wealth, +in the hope of making great gains, when the news came that both were +lost. Thus from being a rich man he became all at once so very poor that +nothing was left to him but one small plot of land; and there he often +went in an evening to take his walk, and ease his mind of a little of +his trouble. + +One day, as he was roaming along in a brown study, thinking with no +great comfort on what he had been and what he now was, and was like +to be, all on a sudden there stood before him a little, rough-looking, +black dwarf. 'Prithee, friend, why so sorrowful?' said he to the +merchant; 'what is it you take so deeply to heart?' 'If you would do me +any good I would willingly tell you,' said the merchant. 'Who knows but +I may?' said the little man: 'tell me what ails you, and perhaps you +will find I may be of some use.' Then the merchant told him how all his +wealth was gone to the bottom of the sea, and how he had nothing left +but that little plot of land. 'Oh, trouble not yourself about that,' +said the dwarf; 'only undertake to bring me here, twelve years hence, +whatever meets you first on your going home, and I will give you as much +as you please.' The merchant thought this was no great thing to ask; +that it would most likely be his dog or his cat, or something of that +sort, but forgot his little boy Heinel; so he agreed to the bargain, and +signed and sealed the bond to do what was asked of him. + +But as he drew near home, his little boy was so glad to see him that he +crept behind him, and laid fast hold of his legs, and looked up in +his face and laughed. Then the father started, trembling with fear and +horror, and saw what it was that he had bound himself to do; but as no +gold was come, he made himself easy by thinking that it was only a joke +that the dwarf was playing him, and that, at any rate, when the money +came, he should see the bearer, and would not take it in. + +About a month afterwards he went upstairs into a lumber-room to look +for some old iron, that he might sell it and raise a little money; and +there, instead of his iron, he saw a large pile of gold lying on the +floor. At the sight of this he was overjoyed, and forgetting all about +his son, went into trade again, and became a richer merchant than +before. + +Meantime little Heinel grew up, and as the end of the twelve years drew +near the merchant began to call to mind his bond, and became very sad +and thoughtful; so that care and sorrow were written upon his face. The +boy one day asked what was the matter, but his father would not tell for +some time; at last, however, he said that he had, without knowing it, +sold him for gold to a little, ugly-looking, black dwarf, and that the +twelve years were coming round when he must keep his word. Then Heinel +said, 'Father, give yourself very little trouble about that; I shall be +too much for the little man.' + +When the time came, the father and son went out together to the place +agreed upon: and the son drew a circle on the ground, and set himself +and his father in the middle of it. The little black dwarf soon came, +and walked round and round about the circle, but could not find any way +to get into it, and he either could not, or dared not, jump over it. At +last the boy said to him. 'Have you anything to say to us, my friend, or +what do you want?' Now Heinel had found a friend in a good fairy, that +was fond of him, and had told him what to do; for this fairy knew what +good luck was in store for him. 'Have you brought me what you said you +would?' said the dwarf to the merchant. The old man held his tongue, but +Heinel said again, 'What do you want here?' The dwarf said, 'I come to +talk with your father, not with you.' 'You have cheated and taken in my +father,' said the son; 'pray give him up his bond at once.' 'Fair and +softly,' said the little old man; 'right is right; I have paid my money, +and your father has had it, and spent it; so be so good as to let me +have what I paid it for.' 'You must have my consent to that first,' said +Heinel, 'so please to step in here, and let us talk it over.' The old +man grinned, and showed his teeth, as if he should have been very glad +to get into the circle if he could. Then at last, after a long talk, +they came to terms. Heinel agreed that his father must give him up, and +that so far the dwarf should have his way: but, on the other hand, the +fairy had told Heinel what fortune was in store for him, if he followed +his own course; and he did not choose to be given up to his hump-backed +friend, who seemed so anxious for his company. + +So, to make a sort of drawn battle of the matter, it was settled that +Heinel should be put into an open boat, that lay on the sea-shore hard +by; that the father should push him off with his own hand, and that he +should thus be set adrift, and left to the bad or good luck of wind and +weather. Then he took leave of his father, and set himself in the boat, +but before it got far off a wave struck it, and it fell with one side +low in the water, so the merchant thought that poor Heinel was lost, and +went home very sorrowful, while the dwarf went his way, thinking that at +any rate he had had his revenge. + +The boat, however, did not sink, for the good fairy took care of her +friend, and soon raised the boat up again, and it went safely on. The +young man sat safe within, till at length it ran ashore upon an unknown +land. As he jumped upon the shore he saw before him a beautiful castle +but empty and dreary within, for it was enchanted. 'Here,' said he to +himself, 'must I find the prize the good fairy told me of.' So he once +more searched the whole palace through, till at last he found a white +snake, lying coiled up on a cushion in one of the chambers. + +Now the white snake was an enchanted princess; and she was very glad +to see him, and said, 'Are you at last come to set me free? Twelve +long years have I waited here for the fairy to bring you hither as she +promised, for you alone can save me. This night twelve men will come: +their faces will be black, and they will be dressed in chain armour. +They will ask what you do here, but give no answer; and let them do +what they will--beat, whip, pinch, prick, or torment you--bear all; only +speak not a word, and at twelve o'clock they must go away. The second +night twelve others will come: and the third night twenty-four, who +will even cut off your head; but at the twelfth hour of that night their +power is gone, and I shall be free, and will come and bring you the +Water of Life, and will wash you with it, and bring you back to life +and health.' And all came to pass as she had said; Heinel bore all, and +spoke not a word; and the third night the princess came, and fell on his +neck and kissed him. Joy and gladness burst forth throughout the castle, +the wedding was celebrated, and he was crowned king of the Golden +Mountain. + +They lived together very happily, and the queen had a son. And thus +eight years had passed over their heads, when the king thought of his +father; and he began to long to see him once again. But the queen was +against his going, and said, 'I know well that misfortunes will come +upon us if you go.' However, he gave her no rest till she agreed. At his +going away she gave him a wishing-ring, and said, 'Take this ring, and +put it on your finger; whatever you wish it will bring you; only promise +never to make use of it to bring me hence to your father's house.' Then +he said he would do what she asked, and put the ring on his finger, and +wished himself near the town where his father lived. + +Heinel found himself at the gates in a moment; but the guards would +not let him go in, because he was so strangely clad. So he went up to a +neighbouring hill, where a shepherd dwelt, and borrowed his old frock, +and thus passed unknown into the town. When he came to his father's +house, he said he was his son; but the merchant would not believe him, +and said he had had but one son, his poor Heinel, who he knew was long +since dead: and as he was only dressed like a poor shepherd, he would +not even give him anything to eat. The king, however, still vowed that +he was his son, and said, 'Is there no mark by which you would know me +if I am really your son?' 'Yes,' said his mother, 'our Heinel had a mark +like a raspberry on his right arm.' Then he showed them the mark, and +they knew that what he had said was true. + +He next told them how he was king of the Golden Mountain, and was +married to a princess, and had a son seven years old. But the merchant +said, 'that can never be true; he must be a fine king truly who travels +about in a shepherd's frock!' At this the son was vexed; and forgetting +his word, turned his ring, and wished for his queen and son. In an +instant they stood before him; but the queen wept, and said he had +broken his word, and bad luck would follow. He did all he could to +soothe her, and she at last seemed to be appeased; but she was not so in +truth, and was only thinking how she should punish him. + +One day he took her to walk with him out of the town, and showed her +the spot where the boat was set adrift upon the wide waters. Then he sat +himself down, and said, 'I am very much tired; sit by me, I will rest my +head in your lap, and sleep a while.' As soon as he had fallen asleep, +however, she drew the ring from his finger, and crept softly away, and +wished herself and her son at home in their kingdom. And when he awoke +he found himself alone, and saw that the ring was gone from his finger. +'I can never go back to my father's house,' said he; 'they would say I +am a sorcerer: I will journey forth into the world, till I come again to +my kingdom.' + +So saying he set out and travelled till he came to a hill, where three +giants were sharing their father's goods; and as they saw him pass they +cried out and said, 'Little men have sharp wits; he shall part the goods +between us.' Now there was a sword that cut off an enemy's head whenever +the wearer gave the words, 'Heads off!'; a cloak that made the owner +invisible, or gave him any form he pleased; and a pair of boots that +carried the wearer wherever he wished. Heinel said they must first let +him try these wonderful things, then he might know how to set a value +upon them. Then they gave him the cloak, and he wished himself a fly, +and in a moment he was a fly. 'The cloak is very well,' said he: 'now +give me the sword.' 'No,' said they; 'not unless you undertake not to +say, "Heads off!" for if you do we are all dead men.' So they gave it +him, charging him to try it on a tree. He next asked for the boots also; +and the moment he had all three in his power, he wished himself at +the Golden Mountain; and there he was at once. So the giants were left +behind with no goods to share or quarrel about. + +As Heinel came near his castle he heard the sound of merry music; and +the people around told him that his queen was about to marry another +husband. Then he threw his cloak around him, and passed through the +castle hall, and placed himself by the side of the queen, where no one +saw him. But when anything to eat was put upon her plate, he took it +away and ate it himself; and when a glass of wine was handed to her, he +took it and drank it; and thus, though they kept on giving her meat and +drink, her plate and cup were always empty. + +Upon this, fear and remorse came over her, and she went into her chamber +alone, and sat there weeping; and he followed her there. 'Alas!' said +she to herself, 'was I not once set free? Why then does this enchantment +still seem to bind me?' + +'False and fickle one!' said he. 'One indeed came who set thee free, and +he is now near thee again; but how have you used him? Ought he to +have had such treatment from thee?' Then he went out and sent away the +company, and said the wedding was at an end, for that he was come back +to the kingdom. But the princes, peers, and great men mocked at him. +However, he would enter into no parley with them, but only asked them +if they would go in peace or not. Then they turned upon him and tried +to seize him; but he drew his sword. 'Heads Off!' cried he; and with the +word the traitors' heads fell before him, and Heinel was once more king +of the Golden Mountain. + + + + +DOCTOR KNOWALL + +There was once upon a time a poor peasant called Crabb, who drove with +two oxen a load of wood to the town, and sold it to a doctor for two +talers. When the money was being counted out to him, it so happened that +the doctor was sitting at table, and when the peasant saw how well he +ate and drank, his heart desired what he saw, and would willingly +have been a doctor too. So he remained standing a while, and at length +inquired if he too could not be a doctor. 'Oh, yes,' said the doctor, +'that is soon managed.' 'What must I do?' asked the peasant. 'In the +first place buy yourself an A B C book of the kind which has a cock on +the frontispiece; in the second, turn your cart and your two oxen into +money, and get yourself some clothes, and whatsoever else pertains to +medicine; thirdly, have a sign painted for yourself with the words: "I +am Doctor Knowall," and have that nailed up above your house-door.' The +peasant did everything that he had been told to do. When he had doctored +people awhile, but not long, a rich and great lord had some money +stolen. Then he was told about Doctor Knowall who lived in such and such +a village, and must know what had become of the money. So the lord had +the horses harnessed to his carriage, drove out to the village, and +asked Crabb if he were Doctor Knowall. Yes, he was, he said. Then he was +to go with him and bring back the stolen money. 'Oh, yes, but Grete, my +wife, must go too.' The lord was willing, and let both of them have a +seat in the carriage, and they all drove away together. When they came +to the nobleman's castle, the table was spread, and Crabb was told to +sit down and eat. 'Yes, but my wife, Grete, too,' said he, and he seated +himself with her at the table. And when the first servant came with a +dish of delicate fare, the peasant nudged his wife, and said: 'Grete, +that was the first,' meaning that was the servant who brought the first +dish. The servant, however, thought he intended by that to say: 'That is +the first thief,' and as he actually was so, he was terrified, and said +to his comrade outside: 'The doctor knows all: we shall fare ill, he +said I was the first.' The second did not want to go in at all, but was +forced. So when he went in with his dish, the peasant nudged his wife, +and said: 'Grete, that is the second.' This servant was equally alarmed, +and he got out as fast as he could. The third fared no better, for the +peasant again said: 'Grete, that is the third.' The fourth had to carry +in a dish that was covered, and the lord told the doctor that he was to +show his skill, and guess what was beneath the cover. Actually, there +were crabs. The doctor looked at the dish, had no idea what to say, and +cried: 'Ah, poor Crabb.' When the lord heard that, he cried: 'There! he +knows it; he must also know who has the money!' + +On this the servants looked terribly uneasy, and made a sign to the +doctor that they wished him to step outside for a moment. When therefore +he went out, all four of them confessed to him that they had stolen +the money, and said that they would willingly restore it and give him a +heavy sum into the bargain, if he would not denounce them, for if he +did they would be hanged. They led him to the spot where the money was +concealed. With this the doctor was satisfied, and returned to the hall, +sat down to the table, and said: 'My lord, now will I search in my book +where the gold is hidden.' The fifth servant, however, crept into the +stove to hear if the doctor knew still more. But the doctor sat still +and opened his A B C book, turned the pages backwards and forwards, and +looked for the cock. As he could not find it immediately he said: 'I +know you are there, so you had better come out!' Then the fellow in the +stove thought that the doctor meant him, and full of terror, sprang out, +crying: 'That man knows everything!' Then Doctor Knowall showed the lord +where the money was, but did not say who had stolen it, and received +from both sides much money in reward, and became a renowned man. + + + + +THE SEVEN RAVENS + +There was once a man who had seven sons, and last of all one daughter. +Although the little girl was very pretty, she was so weak and small that +they thought she could not live; but they said she should at once be +christened. + +So the father sent one of his sons in haste to the spring to get some +water, but the other six ran with him. Each wanted to be first at +drawing the water, and so they were in such a hurry that all let their +pitchers fall into the well, and they stood very foolishly looking at +one another, and did not know what to do, for none dared go home. In the +meantime the father was uneasy, and could not tell what made the +young men stay so long. 'Surely,' said he, 'the whole seven must have +forgotten themselves over some game of play'; and when he had waited +still longer and they yet did not come, he flew into a rage and wished +them all turned into ravens. Scarcely had he spoken these words when he +heard a croaking over his head, and looked up and saw seven ravens as +black as coal flying round and round. Sorry as he was to see his wish +so fulfilled, he did not know how what was done could be undone, and +comforted himself as well as he could for the loss of his seven sons +with his dear little daughter, who soon became stronger and every day +more beautiful. + +For a long time she did not know that she had ever had any brothers; for +her father and mother took care not to speak of them before her: but one +day by chance she heard the people about her speak of them. 'Yes,' said +they, 'she is beautiful indeed, but still 'tis a pity that her brothers +should have been lost for her sake.' Then she was much grieved, and went +to her father and mother, and asked if she had any brothers, and what +had become of them. So they dared no longer hide the truth from her, but +said it was the will of Heaven, and that her birth was only the innocent +cause of it; but the little girl mourned sadly about it every day, and +thought herself bound to do all she could to bring her brothers back; +and she had neither rest nor ease, till at length one day she stole +away, and set out into the wide world to find her brothers, wherever +they might be, and free them, whatever it might cost her. + +She took nothing with her but a little ring which her father and mother +had given her, a loaf of bread in case she should be hungry, a little +pitcher of water in case she should be thirsty, and a little stool +to rest upon when she should be weary. Thus she went on and on, and +journeyed till she came to the world's end; then she came to the sun, +but the sun looked much too hot and fiery; so she ran away quickly to +the moon, but the moon was cold and chilly, and said, 'I smell flesh +and blood this way!' so she took herself away in a hurry and came to the +stars, and the stars were friendly and kind to her, and each star sat +upon his own little stool; but the morning star rose up and gave her a +little piece of wood, and said, 'If you have not this little piece of +wood, you cannot unlock the castle that stands on the glass-mountain, +and there your brothers live.' The little girl took the piece of wood, +rolled it up in a little cloth, and went on again until she came to the +glass-mountain, and found the door shut. Then she felt for the little +piece of wood; but when she unwrapped the cloth it was not there, and +she saw she had lost the gift of the good stars. What was to be done? +She wanted to save her brothers, and had no key of the castle of the +glass-mountain; so this faithful little sister took a knife out of her +pocket and cut off her little finger, that was just the size of the +piece of wood she had lost, and put it in the door and opened it. + +As she went in, a little dwarf came up to her, and said, 'What are you +seeking for?' 'I seek for my brothers, the seven ravens,' answered she. +Then the dwarf said, 'My masters are not at home; but if you will wait +till they come, pray step in.' Now the little dwarf was getting their +dinner ready, and he brought their food upon seven little plates, and +their drink in seven little glasses, and set them upon the table, and +out of each little plate their sister ate a small piece, and out of each +little glass she drank a small drop; but she let the ring that she had +brought with her fall into the last glass. + +On a sudden she heard a fluttering and croaking in the air, and the +dwarf said, 'Here come my masters.' When they came in, they wanted to +eat and drink, and looked for their little plates and glasses. Then said +one after the other, + +'Who has eaten from my little plate? And who has been drinking out of my +little glass?' + + 'Caw! Caw! well I ween + Mortal lips have this way been.' + +When the seventh came to the bottom of his glass, and found there the +ring, he looked at it, and knew that it was his father's and mother's, +and said, 'O that our little sister would but come! then we should be +free.' When the little girl heard this (for she stood behind the door +all the time and listened), she ran forward, and in an instant all +the ravens took their right form again; and all hugged and kissed each +other, and went merrily home. + + + + +THE WEDDING OF MRS FOX + + +FIRST STORY + +There was once upon a time an old fox with nine tails, who believed that +his wife was not faithful to him, and wished to put her to the test. He +stretched himself out under the bench, did not move a limb, and behaved +as if he were stone dead. Mrs Fox went up to her room, shut herself in, +and her maid, Miss Cat, sat by the fire, and did the cooking. When it +became known that the old fox was dead, suitors presented themselves. +The maid heard someone standing at the house-door, knocking. She went +and opened it, and it was a young fox, who said: + + 'What may you be about, Miss Cat? + Do you sleep or do you wake?' + +She answered: + + 'I am not sleeping, I am waking, + Would you know what I am making? + I am boiling warm beer with butter, + Will you be my guest for supper?' + +'No, thank you, miss,' said the fox, 'what is Mrs Fox doing?' The maid +replied: + + 'She is sitting in her room, + Moaning in her gloom, + Weeping her little eyes quite red, + Because old Mr Fox is dead.' + +'Do just tell her, miss, that a young fox is here, who would like to woo +her.' 'Certainly, young sir.' + + The cat goes up the stairs trip, trap, + The door she knocks at tap, tap, tap, + 'Mistress Fox, are you inside?' + 'Oh, yes, my little cat,' she cried. + 'A wooer he stands at the door out there.' + 'What does he look like, my dear?' + +'Has he nine as beautiful tails as the late Mr Fox?' 'Oh, no,' answered +the cat, 'he has only one.' 'Then I will not have him.' + +Miss Cat went downstairs and sent the wooer away. Soon afterwards there +was another knock, and another fox was at the door who wished to woo Mrs +Fox. He had two tails, but he did not fare better than the first. After +this still more came, each with one tail more than the other, but they +were all turned away, until at last one came who had nine tails, like +old Mr Fox. When the widow heard that, she said joyfully to the cat: + + 'Now open the gates and doors all wide, + And carry old Mr Fox outside.' + +But just as the wedding was going to be solemnized, old Mr Fox stirred +under the bench, and cudgelled all the rabble, and drove them and Mrs +Fox out of the house. + + +SECOND STORY + +When old Mr Fox was dead, the wolf came as a suitor, and knocked at the +door, and the cat who was servant to Mrs Fox, opened it for him. The +wolf greeted her, and said: + + 'Good day, Mrs Cat of Kehrewit, + How comes it that alone you sit? + What are you making good?' + +The cat replied: + + 'In milk I'm breaking bread so sweet, + Will you be my guest, and eat?' + +'No, thank you, Mrs Cat,' answered the wolf. 'Is Mrs Fox not at home?' + +The cat said: + + 'She sits upstairs in her room, + Bewailing her sorrowful doom, + Bewailing her trouble so sore, + For old Mr Fox is no more.' + +The wolf answered: + + 'If she's in want of a husband now, + Then will it please her to step below?' + The cat runs quickly up the stair, + And lets her tail fly here and there, + Until she comes to the parlour door. + With her five gold rings at the door she knocks: + 'Are you within, good Mistress Fox? + If you're in want of a husband now, + Then will it please you to step below? + +Mrs Fox asked: 'Has the gentleman red stockings on, and has he a pointed +mouth?' 'No,' answered the cat. 'Then he won't do for me.' + +When the wolf was gone, came a dog, a stag, a hare, a bear, a lion, and +all the beasts of the forest, one after the other. But one of the good +qualities which old Mr Fox had possessed, was always lacking, and the +cat had continually to send the suitors away. At length came a young +fox. Then Mrs Fox said: 'Has the gentleman red stockings on, and has a +little pointed mouth?' 'Yes,' said the cat, 'he has.' 'Then let him come +upstairs,' said Mrs Fox, and ordered the servant to prepare the wedding +feast. + + 'Sweep me the room as clean as you can, + Up with the window, fling out my old man! + For many a fine fat mouse he brought, + Yet of his wife he never thought, + But ate up every one he caught.' + +Then the wedding was solemnized with young Mr Fox, and there was much +rejoicing and dancing; and if they have not left off, they are dancing +still. + + + + +THE SALAD + +As a merry young huntsman was once going briskly along through a wood, +there came up a little old woman, and said to him, 'Good day, good day; +you seem merry enough, but I am hungry and thirsty; do pray give me +something to eat.' The huntsman took pity on her, and put his hand in +his pocket and gave her what he had. Then he wanted to go his way; but +she took hold of him, and said, 'Listen, my friend, to what I am going +to tell you; I will reward you for your kindness; go your way, and after +a little time you will come to a tree where you will see nine birds +sitting on a cloak. Shoot into the midst of them, and one will fall down +dead: the cloak will fall too; take it, it is a wishing-cloak, and when +you wear it you will find yourself at any place where you may wish to +be. Cut open the dead bird, take out its heart and keep it, and you will +find a piece of gold under your pillow every morning when you rise. It +is the bird's heart that will bring you this good luck.' + +The huntsman thanked her, and thought to himself, 'If all this does +happen, it will be a fine thing for me.' When he had gone a hundred +steps or so, he heard a screaming and chirping in the branches over him, +and looked up and saw a flock of birds pulling a cloak with their bills +and feet; screaming, fighting, and tugging at each other as if +each wished to have it himself. 'Well,' said the huntsman, 'this is +wonderful; this happens just as the old woman said'; then he shot into +the midst of them so that their feathers flew all about. Off went the +flock chattering away; but one fell down dead, and the cloak with it. +Then the huntsman did as the old woman told him, cut open the bird, took +out the heart, and carried the cloak home with him. + +The next morning when he awoke he lifted up his pillow, and there lay +the piece of gold glittering underneath; the same happened next day, and +indeed every day when he arose. He heaped up a great deal of gold, and +at last thought to himself, 'Of what use is this gold to me whilst I am +at home? I will go out into the world and look about me.' + +Then he took leave of his friends, and hung his bag and bow about his +neck, and went his way. It so happened that his road one day led through +a thick wood, at the end of which was a large castle in a green meadow, +and at one of the windows stood an old woman with a very beautiful young +lady by her side looking about them. Now the old woman was a witch, and +said to the young lady, 'There is a young man coming out of the wood who +carries a wonderful prize; we must get it away from him, my dear child, +for it is more fit for us than for him. He has a bird's heart that +brings a piece of gold under his pillow every morning.' Meantime the +huntsman came nearer and looked at the lady, and said to himself, 'I +have been travelling so long that I should like to go into this castle +and rest myself, for I have money enough to pay for anything I want'; +but the real reason was, that he wanted to see more of the beautiful +lady. Then he went into the house, and was welcomed kindly; and it was +not long before he was so much in love that he thought of nothing else +but looking at the lady's eyes, and doing everything that she wished. +Then the old woman said, 'Now is the time for getting the bird's heart.' +So the lady stole it away, and he never found any more gold under his +pillow, for it lay now under the young lady's, and the old woman took it +away every morning; but he was so much in love that he never missed his +prize. + +'Well,' said the old witch, 'we have got the bird's heart, but not the +wishing-cloak yet, and that we must also get.' 'Let us leave him that,' +said the young lady; 'he has already lost his wealth.' Then the witch +was very angry, and said, 'Such a cloak is a very rare and wonderful +thing, and I must and will have it.' So she did as the old woman told +her, and set herself at the window, and looked about the country and +seemed very sorrowful; then the huntsman said, 'What makes you so sad?' +'Alas! dear sir,' said she, 'yonder lies the granite rock where all the +costly diamonds grow, and I want so much to go there, that whenever I +think of it I cannot help being sorrowful, for who can reach it? only +the birds and the flies--man cannot.' 'If that's all your grief,' said +the huntsman, 'I'll take you there with all my heart'; so he drew her under +his cloak, and the moment he wished to be on the granite mountain they +were both there. The diamonds glittered so on all sides that they were +delighted with the sight and picked up the finest. But the old witch +made a deep sleep come upon him, and he said to the young lady, 'Let us +sit down and rest ourselves a little, I am so tired that I cannot stand +any longer.' So they sat down, and he laid his head in her lap and +fell asleep; and whilst he was sleeping on she took the cloak from +his shoulders, hung it on her own, picked up the diamonds, and wished +herself home again. + +When he awoke and found that his lady had tricked him, and left him +alone on the wild rock, he said, 'Alas! what roguery there is in the +world!' and there he sat in great grief and fear, not knowing what to +do. Now this rock belonged to fierce giants who lived upon it; and as +he saw three of them striding about, he thought to himself, 'I can only +save myself by feigning to be asleep'; so he laid himself down as if he +were in a sound sleep. When the giants came up to him, the first pushed +him with his foot, and said, 'What worm is this that lies here curled +up?' 'Tread upon him and kill him,' said the second. 'It's not worth the +trouble,' said the third; 'let him live, he'll go climbing higher up the +mountain, and some cloud will come rolling and carry him away.' And they +passed on. But the huntsman had heard all they said; and as soon as they +were gone, he climbed to the top of the mountain, and when he had sat +there a short time a cloud came rolling around him, and caught him in a +whirlwind and bore him along for some time, till it settled in a garden, +and he fell quite gently to the ground amongst the greens and cabbages. + +Then he looked around him, and said, 'I wish I had something to eat, if +not I shall be worse off than before; for here I see neither apples +nor pears, nor any kind of fruits, nothing but vegetables.' At last he +thought to himself, 'I can eat salad, it will refresh and strengthen +me.' So he picked out a fine head and ate of it; but scarcely had he +swallowed two bites when he felt himself quite changed, and saw with +horror that he was turned into an ass. However, he still felt very +hungry, and the salad tasted very nice; so he ate on till he came +to another kind of salad, and scarcely had he tasted it when he felt +another change come over him, and soon saw that he was lucky enough to +have found his old shape again. + +Then he laid himself down and slept off a little of his weariness; and +when he awoke the next morning he broke off a head both of the good and +the bad salad, and thought to himself, 'This will help me to my fortune +again, and enable me to pay off some folks for their treachery.' So he +went away to try and find the castle of his friends; and after wandering +about a few days he luckily found it. Then he stained his face all over +brown, so that even his mother would not have known him, and went into +the castle and asked for a lodging; 'I am so tired,' said he, 'that I +can go no farther.' 'Countryman,' said the witch, 'who are you? and what +is your business?' 'I am,' said he, 'a messenger sent by the king to +find the finest salad that grows under the sun. I have been lucky +enough to find it, and have brought it with me; but the heat of the sun +scorches so that it begins to wither, and I don't know that I can carry +it farther.' + +When the witch and the young lady heard of his beautiful salad, they +longed to taste it, and said, 'Dear countryman, let us just taste it.' +'To be sure,' answered he; 'I have two heads of it with me, and will +give you one'; so he opened his bag and gave them the bad. Then the +witch herself took it into the kitchen to be dressed; and when it was +ready she could not wait till it was carried up, but took a few leaves +immediately and put them in her mouth, and scarcely were they swallowed +when she lost her own form and ran braying down into the court in the +form of an ass. Now the servant-maid came into the kitchen, and seeing +the salad ready, was going to carry it up; but on the way she too felt a +wish to taste it as the old woman had done, and ate some leaves; so she +also was turned into an ass and ran after the other, letting the dish +with the salad fall on the ground. The messenger sat all this time with +the beautiful young lady, and as nobody came with the salad and she +longed to taste it, she said, 'I don't know where the salad can be.' +Then he thought something must have happened, and said, 'I will go +into the kitchen and see.' And as he went he saw two asses in the court +running about, and the salad lying on the ground. 'All right!' said +he; 'those two have had their share.' Then he took up the rest of +the leaves, laid them on the dish and brought them to the young lady, +saying, 'I bring you the dish myself that you may not wait any longer.' +So she ate of it, and like the others ran off into the court braying +away. + +Then the huntsman washed his face and went into the court that they +might know him. 'Now you shall be paid for your roguery,' said he; and +tied them all three to a rope and took them along with him till he +came to a mill and knocked at the window. 'What's the matter?' said the +miller. 'I have three tiresome beasts here,' said the other; 'if you +will take them, give them food and room, and treat them as I tell you, +I will pay you whatever you ask.' 'With all my heart,' said the miller; +'but how shall I treat them?' Then the huntsman said, 'Give the old +one stripes three times a day and hay once; give the next (who was +the servant-maid) stripes once a day and hay three times; and give +the youngest (who was the beautiful lady) hay three times a day and +no stripes': for he could not find it in his heart to have her beaten. +After this he went back to the castle, where he found everything he +wanted. + +Some days after, the miller came to him and told him that the old ass +was dead; 'The other two,' said he, 'are alive and eat, but are so +sorrowful that they cannot last long.' Then the huntsman pitied them, +and told the miller to drive them back to him, and when they came, he +gave them some of the good salad to eat. And the beautiful young lady +fell upon her knees before him, and said, 'O dearest huntsman! forgive +me all the ill I have done you; my mother forced me to it, it was +against my will, for I always loved you very much. Your wishing-cloak +hangs up in the closet, and as for the bird's heart, I will give it you +too.' But he said, 'Keep it, it will be just the same thing, for I mean +to make you my wife.' So they were married, and lived together very +happily till they died. + + + + +THE STORY OF THE YOUTH WHO WENT FORTH TO LEARN WHAT FEAR WAS + +A certain father had two sons, the elder of who was smart and sensible, +and could do everything, but the younger was stupid and could neither +learn nor understand anything, and when people saw him they said: +'There's a fellow who will give his father some trouble!' When anything +had to be done, it was always the elder who was forced to do it; but +if his father bade him fetch anything when it was late, or in the +night-time, and the way led through the churchyard, or any other dismal +place, he answered: 'Oh, no father, I'll not go there, it makes me +shudder!' for he was afraid. Or when stories were told by the fire at +night which made the flesh creep, the listeners sometimes said: 'Oh, +it makes us shudder!' The younger sat in a corner and listened with +the rest of them, and could not imagine what they could mean. 'They are +always saying: "It makes me shudder, it makes me shudder!" It does not +make me shudder,' thought he. 'That, too, must be an art of which I +understand nothing!' + +Now it came to pass that his father said to him one day: 'Hearken to me, +you fellow in the corner there, you are growing tall and strong, and you +too must learn something by which you can earn your bread. Look how your +brother works, but you do not even earn your salt.' 'Well, father,' he +replied, 'I am quite willing to learn something--indeed, if it could but +be managed, I should like to learn how to shudder. I don't understand +that at all yet.' The elder brother smiled when he heard that, and +thought to himself: 'Goodness, what a blockhead that brother of mine is! +He will never be good for anything as long as he lives! He who wants to +be a sickle must bend himself betimes.' + +The father sighed, and answered him: 'You shall soon learn what it is to +shudder, but you will not earn your bread by that.' + +Soon after this the sexton came to the house on a visit, and the father +bewailed his trouble, and told him how his younger son was so backward +in every respect that he knew nothing and learnt nothing. 'Just think,' +said he, 'when I asked him how he was going to earn his bread, he +actually wanted to learn to shudder.' 'If that be all,' replied the +sexton, 'he can learn that with me. Send him to me, and I will soon +polish him.' The father was glad to do it, for he thought: 'It will +train the boy a little.' The sexton therefore took him into his house, +and he had to ring the church bell. After a day or two, the sexton awoke +him at midnight, and bade him arise and go up into the church tower and +ring the bell. 'You shall soon learn what shuddering is,' thought he, +and secretly went there before him; and when the boy was at the top of +the tower and turned round, and was just going to take hold of the bell +rope, he saw a white figure standing on the stairs opposite the sounding +hole. 'Who is there?' cried he, but the figure made no reply, and did +not move or stir. 'Give an answer,' cried the boy, 'or take yourself +off, you have no business here at night.' + +The sexton, however, remained standing motionless that the boy might +think he was a ghost. The boy cried a second time: 'What do you want +here?--speak if you are an honest fellow, or I will throw you down the +steps!' The sexton thought: 'He can't mean to be as bad as his words,' +uttered no sound and stood as if he were made of stone. Then the boy +called to him for the third time, and as that was also to no purpose, +he ran against him and pushed the ghost down the stairs, so that it fell +down the ten steps and remained lying there in a corner. Thereupon he +rang the bell, went home, and without saying a word went to bed, and +fell asleep. The sexton's wife waited a long time for her husband, but +he did not come back. At length she became uneasy, and wakened the boy, +and asked: 'Do you know where my husband is? He climbed up the tower +before you did.' 'No, I don't know,' replied the boy, 'but someone was +standing by the sounding hole on the other side of the steps, and as he +would neither gave an answer nor go away, I took him for a scoundrel, +and threw him downstairs. Just go there and you will see if it was he. +I should be sorry if it were.' The woman ran away and found her husband, +who was lying moaning in the corner, and had broken his leg. + +She carried him down, and then with loud screams she hastened to the +boy's father, 'Your boy,' cried she, 'has been the cause of a great +misfortune! He has thrown my husband down the steps so that he broke his +leg. Take the good-for-nothing fellow out of our house.' The father was +terrified, and ran thither and scolded the boy. 'What wicked tricks +are these?' said he. 'The devil must have put them into your head.' +'Father,' he replied, 'do listen to me. I am quite innocent. He was +standing there by night like one intent on doing evil. I did not know +who it was, and I entreated him three times either to speak or to go +away.' 'Ah,' said the father, 'I have nothing but unhappiness with you. +Go out of my sight. I will see you no more.' + +'Yes, father, right willingly, wait only until it is day. Then will I +go forth and learn how to shudder, and then I shall, at any rate, +understand one art which will support me.' 'Learn what you will,' spoke +the father, 'it is all the same to me. Here are fifty talers for you. +Take these and go into the wide world, and tell no one from whence you +come, and who is your father, for I have reason to be ashamed of you.' +'Yes, father, it shall be as you will. If you desire nothing more than +that, I can easily keep it in mind.' + +When the day dawned, therefore, the boy put his fifty talers into his +pocket, and went forth on the great highway, and continually said to +himself: 'If I could but shudder! If I could but shudder!' Then a man +approached who heard this conversation which the youth was holding with +himself, and when they had walked a little farther to where they could +see the gallows, the man said to him: 'Look, there is the tree where +seven men have married the ropemaker's daughter, and are now learning +how to fly. Sit down beneath it, and wait till night comes, and you will +soon learn how to shudder.' 'If that is all that is wanted,' answered +the youth, 'it is easily done; but if I learn how to shudder as fast as +that, you shall have my fifty talers. Just come back to me early in the +morning.' Then the youth went to the gallows, sat down beneath it, and +waited till evening came. And as he was cold, he lighted himself a fire, +but at midnight the wind blew so sharply that in spite of his fire, he +could not get warm. And as the wind knocked the hanged men against each +other, and they moved backwards and forwards, he thought to himself: +'If you shiver below by the fire, how those up above must freeze and +suffer!' And as he felt pity for them, he raised the ladder, and climbed +up, unbound one of them after the other, and brought down all seven. +Then he stoked the fire, blew it, and set them all round it to warm +themselves. But they sat there and did not stir, and the fire caught +their clothes. So he said: 'Take care, or I will hang you up again.' The +dead men, however, did not hear, but were quite silent, and let their +rags go on burning. At this he grew angry, and said: 'If you will not +take care, I cannot help you, I will not be burnt with you,' and he hung +them up again each in his turn. Then he sat down by his fire and fell +asleep, and the next morning the man came to him and wanted to have +the fifty talers, and said: 'Well do you know how to shudder?' 'No,' +answered he, 'how should I know? Those fellows up there did not open +their mouths, and were so stupid that they let the few old rags which +they had on their bodies get burnt.' Then the man saw that he would not +get the fifty talers that day, and went away saying: 'Such a youth has +never come my way before.' + +The youth likewise went his way, and once more began to mutter to +himself: 'Ah, if I could but shudder! Ah, if I could but shudder!' A +waggoner who was striding behind him heard this and asked: 'Who are +you?' 'I don't know,' answered the youth. Then the waggoner asked: 'From +whence do you come?' 'I know not.' 'Who is your father?' 'That I may +not tell you.' 'What is it that you are always muttering between your +teeth?' 'Ah,' replied the youth, 'I do so wish I could shudder, but +no one can teach me how.' 'Enough of your foolish chatter,' said the +waggoner. 'Come, go with me, I will see about a place for you.' The +youth went with the waggoner, and in the evening they arrived at an inn +where they wished to pass the night. Then at the entrance of the parlour +the youth again said quite loudly: 'If I could but shudder! If I could +but shudder!' The host who heard this, laughed and said: 'If that is +your desire, there ought to be a good opportunity for you here.' 'Ah, +be silent,' said the hostess, 'so many prying persons have already lost +their lives, it would be a pity and a shame if such beautiful eyes as +these should never see the daylight again.' + +But the youth said: 'However difficult it may be, I will learn it. For +this purpose indeed have I journeyed forth.' He let the host have +no rest, until the latter told him, that not far from thence stood a +haunted castle where anyone could very easily learn what shuddering was, +if he would but watch in it for three nights. The king had promised that +he who would venture should have his daughter to wife, and she was the +most beautiful maiden the sun shone on. Likewise in the castle lay great +treasures, which were guarded by evil spirits, and these treasures would +then be freed, and would make a poor man rich enough. Already many men +had gone into the castle, but as yet none had come out again. Then the +youth went next morning to the king, and said: 'If it be allowed, I will +willingly watch three nights in the haunted castle.' + +The king looked at him, and as the youth pleased him, he said: 'You may +ask for three things to take into the castle with you, but they must +be things without life.' Then he answered: 'Then I ask for a fire, a +turning lathe, and a cutting-board with the knife.' + +The king had these things carried into the castle for him during the +day. When night was drawing near, the youth went up and made himself +a bright fire in one of the rooms, placed the cutting-board and knife +beside it, and seated himself by the turning-lathe. 'Ah, if I could +but shudder!' said he, 'but I shall not learn it here either.' Towards +midnight he was about to poke his fire, and as he was blowing it, +something cried suddenly from one corner: 'Au, miau! how cold we are!' +'You fools!' cried he, 'what are you crying about? If you are cold, come +and take a seat by the fire and warm yourselves.' And when he had said +that, two great black cats came with one tremendous leap and sat down +on each side of him, and looked savagely at him with their fiery +eyes. After a short time, when they had warmed themselves, they said: +'Comrade, shall we have a game of cards?' 'Why not?' he replied, 'but +just show me your paws.' Then they stretched out their claws. 'Oh,' said +he, 'what long nails you have! Wait, I must first cut them for you.' +Thereupon he seized them by the throats, put them on the cutting-board +and screwed their feet fast. 'I have looked at your fingers,' said he, +'and my fancy for card-playing has gone,' and he struck them dead and +threw them out into the water. But when he had made away with these two, +and was about to sit down again by his fire, out from every hole and +corner came black cats and black dogs with red-hot chains, and more +and more of them came until he could no longer move, and they yelled +horribly, and got on his fire, pulled it to pieces, and tried to put +it out. He watched them for a while quietly, but at last when they were +going too far, he seized his cutting-knife, and cried: 'Away with you, +vermin,' and began to cut them down. Some of them ran away, the others +he killed, and threw out into the fish-pond. When he came back he fanned +the embers of his fire again and warmed himself. And as he thus sat, his +eyes would keep open no longer, and he felt a desire to sleep. Then he +looked round and saw a great bed in the corner. 'That is the very thing +for me,' said he, and got into it. When he was just going to shut his +eyes, however, the bed began to move of its own accord, and went over +the whole of the castle. 'That's right,' said he, 'but go faster.' Then +the bed rolled on as if six horses were harnessed to it, up and down, +over thresholds and stairs, but suddenly hop, hop, it turned over upside +down, and lay on him like a mountain. But he threw quilts and pillows up +in the air, got out and said: 'Now anyone who likes, may drive,' and +lay down by his fire, and slept till it was day. In the morning the king +came, and when he saw him lying there on the ground, he thought the evil +spirits had killed him and he was dead. Then said he: 'After all it is a +pity,--for so handsome a man.' The youth heard it, got up, and said: 'It +has not come to that yet.' Then the king was astonished, but very glad, +and asked how he had fared. 'Very well indeed,' answered he; 'one +night is past, the two others will pass likewise.' Then he went to the +innkeeper, who opened his eyes very wide, and said: 'I never expected to +see you alive again! Have you learnt how to shudder yet?' 'No,' said he, +'it is all in vain. If someone would but tell me!' + +The second night he again went up into the old castle, sat down by the +fire, and once more began his old song: 'If I could but shudder!' When +midnight came, an uproar and noise of tumbling about was heard; at +first it was low, but it grew louder and louder. Then it was quiet for +a while, and at length with a loud scream, half a man came down the +chimney and fell before him. 'Hullo!' cried he, 'another half belongs +to this. This is not enough!' Then the uproar began again, there was a +roaring and howling, and the other half fell down likewise. 'Wait,' said +he, 'I will just stoke up the fire a little for you.' When he had done +that and looked round again, the two pieces were joined together, and a +hideous man was sitting in his place. 'That is no part of our bargain,' +said the youth, 'the bench is mine.' The man wanted to push him away; +the youth, however, would not allow that, but thrust him off with all +his strength, and seated himself again in his own place. Then still more +men fell down, one after the other; they brought nine dead men's legs +and two skulls, and set them up and played at nine-pins with them. The +youth also wanted to play and said: 'Listen you, can I join you?' 'Yes, +if you have any money.' 'Money enough,' replied he, 'but your balls are +not quite round.' Then he took the skulls and put them in the lathe and +turned them till they were round. 'There, now they will roll better!' +said he. 'Hurrah! now we'll have fun!' He played with them and lost some +of his money, but when it struck twelve, everything vanished from his +sight. He lay down and quietly fell asleep. Next morning the king came +to inquire after him. 'How has it fared with you this time?' asked he. +'I have been playing at nine-pins,' he answered, 'and have lost a couple +of farthings.' 'Have you not shuddered then?' 'What?' said he, 'I have +had a wonderful time! If I did but know what it was to shudder!' + +The third night he sat down again on his bench and said quite sadly: +'If I could but shudder.' When it grew late, six tall men came in and +brought a coffin. Then he said: 'Ha, ha, that is certainly my little +cousin, who died only a few days ago,' and he beckoned with his finger, +and cried: 'Come, little cousin, come.' They placed the coffin on the +ground, but he went to it and took the lid off, and a dead man lay +therein. He felt his face, but it was cold as ice. 'Wait,' said he, 'I +will warm you a little,' and went to the fire and warmed his hand and +laid it on the dead man's face, but he remained cold. Then he took him +out, and sat down by the fire and laid him on his breast and rubbed his +arms that the blood might circulate again. As this also did no good, he +thought to himself: 'When two people lie in bed together, they warm each +other,' and carried him to the bed, covered him over and lay down by +him. After a short time the dead man became warm too, and began to move. +Then said the youth, 'See, little cousin, have I not warmed you?' The +dead man, however, got up and cried: 'Now will I strangle you.' + +'What!' said he, 'is that the way you thank me? You shall at once go +into your coffin again,' and he took him up, threw him into it, and shut +the lid. Then came the six men and carried him away again. 'I cannot +manage to shudder,' said he. 'I shall never learn it here as long as I +live.' + +Then a man entered who was taller than all others, and looked terrible. +He was old, however, and had a long white beard. 'You wretch,' cried he, +'you shall soon learn what it is to shudder, for you shall die.' 'Not so +fast,' replied the youth. 'If I am to die, I shall have to have a say +in it.' 'I will soon seize you,' said the fiend. 'Softly, softly, do not +talk so big. I am as strong as you are, and perhaps even stronger.' +'We shall see,' said the old man. 'If you are stronger, I will let you +go--come, we will try.' Then he led him by dark passages to a smith's +forge, took an axe, and with one blow struck an anvil into the ground. +'I can do better than that,' said the youth, and went to the other +anvil. The old man placed himself near and wanted to look on, and his +white beard hung down. Then the youth seized the axe, split the anvil +with one blow, and in it caught the old man's beard. 'Now I have you,' +said the youth. 'Now it is your turn to die.' Then he seized an iron bar +and beat the old man till he moaned and entreated him to stop, when he +would give him great riches. The youth drew out the axe and let him go. +The old man led him back into the castle, and in a cellar showed him +three chests full of gold. 'Of these,' said he, 'one part is for the +poor, the other for the king, the third yours.' In the meantime it +struck twelve, and the spirit disappeared, so that the youth stood in +darkness. 'I shall still be able to find my way out,' said he, and felt +about, found the way into the room, and slept there by his fire. +Next morning the king came and said: 'Now you must have learnt what +shuddering is?' 'No,' he answered; 'what can it be? My dead cousin was +here, and a bearded man came and showed me a great deal of money down +below, but no one told me what it was to shudder.' 'Then,' said the +king, 'you have saved the castle, and shall marry my daughter.' 'That +is all very well,' said he, 'but still I do not know what it is to +shudder!' + +Then the gold was brought up and the wedding celebrated; but howsoever +much the young king loved his wife, and however happy he was, he still +said always: 'If I could but shudder--if I could but shudder.' And this +at last angered her. Her waiting-maid said: 'I will find a cure for him; +he shall soon learn what it is to shudder.' She went out to the stream +which flowed through the garden, and had a whole bucketful of gudgeons +brought to her. At night when the young king was sleeping, his wife was +to draw the clothes off him and empty the bucket full of cold water +with the gudgeons in it over him, so that the little fishes would +sprawl about him. Then he woke up and cried: 'Oh, what makes me shudder +so?--what makes me shudder so, dear wife? Ah! now I know what it is to +shudder!' + + + + +KING GRISLY-BEARD + +A great king of a land far away in the East had a daughter who was very +beautiful, but so proud, and haughty, and conceited, that none of the +princes who came to ask her in marriage was good enough for her, and she +only made sport of them. + +Once upon a time the king held a great feast, and asked thither all +her suitors; and they all sat in a row, ranged according to their +rank--kings, and princes, and dukes, and earls, and counts, and barons, +and knights. Then the princess came in, and as she passed by them she +had something spiteful to say to every one. The first was too fat: 'He's +as round as a tub,' said she. The next was too tall: 'What a maypole!' +said she. The next was too short: 'What a dumpling!' said she. The +fourth was too pale, and she called him 'Wallface.' The fifth was too +red, so she called him 'Coxcomb.' The sixth was not straight enough; +so she said he was like a green stick, that had been laid to dry over +a baker's oven. And thus she had some joke to crack upon every one: but +she laughed more than all at a good king who was there. 'Look at +him,' said she; 'his beard is like an old mop; he shall be called +Grisly-beard.' So the king got the nickname of Grisly-beard. + +But the old king was very angry when he saw how his daughter behaved, +and how she ill-treated all his guests; and he vowed that, willing or +unwilling, she should marry the first man, be he prince or beggar, that +came to the door. + +Two days after there came by a travelling fiddler, who began to play +under the window and beg alms; and when the king heard him, he said, +'Let him come in.' So they brought in a dirty-looking fellow; and when +he had sung before the king and the princess, he begged a boon. Then the +king said, 'You have sung so well, that I will give you my daughter for +your wife.' The princess begged and prayed; but the king said, 'I have +sworn to give you to the first comer, and I will keep my word.' So words +and tears were of no avail; the parson was sent for, and she was married +to the fiddler. When this was over the king said, 'Now get ready to +go--you must not stay here--you must travel on with your husband.' + +Then the fiddler went his way, and took her with him, and they soon came +to a great wood. 'Pray,' said she, 'whose is this wood?' 'It belongs +to King Grisly-beard,' answered he; 'hadst thou taken him, all had been +thine.' 'Ah! unlucky wretch that I am!' sighed she; 'would that I had +married King Grisly-beard!' Next they came to some fine meadows. 'Whose +are these beautiful green meadows?' said she. 'They belong to King +Grisly-beard, hadst thou taken him, they had all been thine.' 'Ah! +unlucky wretch that I am!' said she; 'would that I had married King +Grisly-beard!' + +Then they came to a great city. 'Whose is this noble city?' said she. +'It belongs to King Grisly-beard; hadst thou taken him, it had all been +thine.' 'Ah! wretch that I am!' sighed she; 'why did I not marry King +Grisly-beard?' 'That is no business of mine,' said the fiddler: 'why +should you wish for another husband? Am not I good enough for you?' + +At last they came to a small cottage. 'What a paltry place!' said she; +'to whom does that little dirty hole belong?' Then the fiddler said, +'That is your and my house, where we are to live.' 'Where are your +servants?' cried she. 'What do we want with servants?' said he; 'you +must do for yourself whatever is to be done. Now make the fire, and put +on water and cook my supper, for I am very tired.' But the princess knew +nothing of making fires and cooking, and the fiddler was forced to help +her. When they had eaten a very scanty meal they went to bed; but the +fiddler called her up very early in the morning to clean the house. Thus +they lived for two days: and when they had eaten up all there was in the +cottage, the man said, 'Wife, we can't go on thus, spending money and +earning nothing. You must learn to weave baskets.' Then he went out and +cut willows, and brought them home, and she began to weave; but it made +her fingers very sore. 'I see this work won't do,' said he: 'try and +spin; perhaps you will do that better.' So she sat down and tried to +spin; but the threads cut her tender fingers till the blood ran. 'See +now,' said the fiddler, 'you are good for nothing; you can do no work: +what a bargain I have got! However, I'll try and set up a trade in pots +and pans, and you shall stand in the market and sell them.' 'Alas!' +sighed she, 'if any of my father's court should pass by and see me +standing in the market, how they will laugh at me!' + +But her husband did not care for that, and said she must work, if she +did not wish to die of hunger. At first the trade went well; for many +people, seeing such a beautiful woman, went to buy her wares, and paid +their money without thinking of taking away the goods. They lived on +this as long as it lasted; and then her husband bought a fresh lot of +ware, and she sat herself down with it in the corner of the market; but +a drunken soldier soon came by, and rode his horse against her stall, +and broke all her goods into a thousand pieces. Then she began to cry, +and knew not what to do. 'Ah! what will become of me?' said she; 'what +will my husband say?' So she ran home and told him all. 'Who would +have thought you would have been so silly,' said he, 'as to put an +earthenware stall in the corner of the market, where everybody passes? +but let us have no more crying; I see you are not fit for this sort of +work, so I have been to the king's palace, and asked if they did not +want a kitchen-maid; and they say they will take you, and there you will +have plenty to eat.' + +Thus the princess became a kitchen-maid, and helped the cook to do all +the dirtiest work; but she was allowed to carry home some of the meat +that was left, and on this they lived. + +She had not been there long before she heard that the king's eldest son +was passing by, going to be married; and she went to one of the windows +and looked out. Everything was ready, and all the pomp and brightness of +the court was there. Then she bitterly grieved for the pride and folly +which had brought her so low. And the servants gave her some of the rich +meats, which she put into her basket to take home. + +All on a sudden, as she was going out, in came the king's son in golden +clothes; and when he saw a beautiful woman at the door, he took her +by the hand, and said she should be his partner in the dance; but she +trembled for fear, for she saw that it was King Grisly-beard, who was +making sport of her. However, he kept fast hold, and led her in; and the +cover of the basket came off, so that the meats in it fell about. Then +everybody laughed and jeered at her; and she was so abashed, that she +wished herself a thousand feet deep in the earth. She sprang to the +door to run away; but on the steps King Grisly-beard overtook her, and +brought her back and said, 'Fear me not! I am the fiddler who has lived +with you in the hut. I brought you there because I really loved you. I +am also the soldier that overset your stall. I have done all this only +to cure you of your silly pride, and to show you the folly of your +ill-treatment of me. Now all is over: you have learnt wisdom, and it is +time to hold our marriage feast.' + +Then the chamberlains came and brought her the most beautiful robes; and +her father and his whole court were there already, and welcomed her home +on her marriage. Joy was in every face and every heart. The feast was +grand; they danced and sang; all were merry; and I only wish that you +and I had been of the party. + + + + +IRON HANS + +There was once upon a time a king who had a great forest near his +palace, full of all kinds of wild animals. One day he sent out a +huntsman to shoot him a roe, but he did not come back. 'Perhaps some +accident has befallen him,' said the king, and the next day he sent out +two more huntsmen who were to search for him, but they too stayed away. +Then on the third day, he sent for all his huntsmen, and said: 'Scour +the whole forest through, and do not give up until you have found all +three.' But of these also, none came home again, none were seen again. +From that time forth, no one would any longer venture into the forest, +and it lay there in deep stillness and solitude, and nothing was seen +of it, but sometimes an eagle or a hawk flying over it. This lasted for +many years, when an unknown huntsman announced himself to the king as +seeking a situation, and offered to go into the dangerous forest. The +king, however, would not give his consent, and said: 'It is not safe in +there; I fear it would fare with you no better than with the others, +and you would never come out again.' The huntsman replied: 'Lord, I will +venture it at my own risk, of fear I know nothing.' + +The huntsman therefore betook himself with his dog to the forest. It was +not long before the dog fell in with some game on the way, and wanted to +pursue it; but hardly had the dog run two steps when it stood before a +deep pool, could go no farther, and a naked arm stretched itself out of +the water, seized it, and drew it under. When the huntsman saw that, he +went back and fetched three men to come with buckets and bale out the +water. When they could see to the bottom there lay a wild man whose body +was brown like rusty iron, and whose hair hung over his face down to his +knees. They bound him with cords, and led him away to the castle. There +was great astonishment over the wild man; the king, however, had him put +in an iron cage in his courtyard, and forbade the door to be opened +on pain of death, and the queen herself was to take the key into her +keeping. And from this time forth everyone could again go into the +forest with safety. + +The king had a son of eight years, who was once playing in the +courtyard, and while he was playing, his golden ball fell into the cage. +The boy ran thither and said: 'Give me my ball out.' 'Not till you have +opened the door for me,' answered the man. 'No,' said the boy, 'I will +not do that; the king has forbidden it,' and ran away. The next day he +again went and asked for his ball; the wild man said: 'Open my door,' +but the boy would not. On the third day the king had ridden out hunting, +and the boy went once more and said: 'I cannot open the door even if I +wished, for I have not the key.' Then the wild man said: 'It lies under +your mother's pillow, you can get it there.' The boy, who wanted to have +his ball back, cast all thought to the winds, and brought the key. The +door opened with difficulty, and the boy pinched his fingers. When it +was open the wild man stepped out, gave him the golden ball, and hurried +away. The boy had become afraid; he called and cried after him: 'Oh, +wild man, do not go away, or I shall be beaten!' The wild man turned +back, took him up, set him on his shoulder, and went with hasty steps +into the forest. When the king came home, he observed the empty cage, +and asked the queen how that had happened. She knew nothing about it, +and sought the key, but it was gone. She called the boy, but no one +answered. The king sent out people to seek for him in the fields, but +they did not find him. Then he could easily guess what had happened, and +much grief reigned in the royal court. + +When the wild man had once more reached the dark forest, he took the boy +down from his shoulder, and said to him: 'You will never see your father +and mother again, but I will keep you with me, for you have set me free, +and I have compassion on you. If you do all I bid you, you shall fare +well. Of treasure and gold have I enough, and more than anyone in the +world.' He made a bed of moss for the boy on which he slept, and the +next morning the man took him to a well, and said: 'Behold, the gold +well is as bright and clear as crystal, you shall sit beside it, and +take care that nothing falls into it, or it will be polluted. I will +come every evening to see if you have obeyed my order.' The boy placed +himself by the brink of the well, and often saw a golden fish or a +golden snake show itself therein, and took care that nothing fell in. +As he was thus sitting, his finger hurt him so violently that he +involuntarily put it in the water. He drew it quickly out again, but saw +that it was quite gilded, and whatsoever pains he took to wash the gold +off again, all was to no purpose. In the evening Iron Hans came back, +looked at the boy, and said: 'What has happened to the well?' 'Nothing +nothing,' he answered, and held his finger behind his back, that the +man might not see it. But he said: 'You have dipped your finger into +the water, this time it may pass, but take care you do not again let +anything go in.' By daybreak the boy was already sitting by the well and +watching it. His finger hurt him again and he passed it over his head, +and then unhappily a hair fell down into the well. He took it quickly +out, but it was already quite gilded. Iron Hans came, and already knew +what had happened. 'You have let a hair fall into the well,' said he. +'I will allow you to watch by it once more, but if this happens for the +third time then the well is polluted and you can no longer remain with +me.' + +On the third day, the boy sat by the well, and did not stir his finger, +however much it hurt him. But the time was long to him, and he looked at +the reflection of his face on the surface of the water. And as he +still bent down more and more while he was doing so, and trying to look +straight into the eyes, his long hair fell down from his shoulders into +the water. He raised himself up quickly, but the whole of the hair of +his head was already golden and shone like the sun. You can imagine how +terrified the poor boy was! He took his pocket-handkerchief and tied it +round his head, in order that the man might not see it. When he came he +already knew everything, and said: 'Take the handkerchief off.' Then the +golden hair streamed forth, and let the boy excuse himself as he might, +it was of no use. 'You have not stood the trial and can stay here no +longer. Go forth into the world, there you will learn what poverty is. +But as you have not a bad heart, and as I mean well by you, there is +one thing I will grant you; if you fall into any difficulty, come to the +forest and cry: "Iron Hans," and then I will come and help you. My +power is great, greater than you think, and I have gold and silver in +abundance.' + +Then the king's son left the forest, and walked by beaten and unbeaten +paths ever onwards until at length he reached a great city. There he +looked for work, but could find none, and he learnt nothing by which he +could help himself. At length he went to the palace, and asked if they +would take him in. The people about court did not at all know what use +they could make of him, but they liked him, and told him to stay. At +length the cook took him into his service, and said he might carry wood +and water, and rake the cinders together. Once when it so happened that +no one else was at hand, the cook ordered him to carry the food to the +royal table, but as he did not like to let his golden hair be seen, he +kept his little cap on. Such a thing as that had never yet come under +the king's notice, and he said: 'When you come to the royal table you +must take your hat off.' He answered: 'Ah, Lord, I cannot; I have a bad +sore place on my head.' Then the king had the cook called before him +and scolded him, and asked how he could take such a boy as that into his +service; and that he was to send him away at once. The cook, however, +had pity on him, and exchanged him for the gardener's boy. + +And now the boy had to plant and water the garden, hoe and dig, and bear +the wind and bad weather. Once in summer when he was working alone in +the garden, the day was so warm he took his little cap off that the air +might cool him. As the sun shone on his hair it glittered and flashed so +that the rays fell into the bedroom of the king's daughter, and up she +sprang to see what that could be. Then she saw the boy, and cried to +him: 'Boy, bring me a wreath of flowers.' He put his cap on with all +haste, and gathered wild field-flowers and bound them together. When he +was ascending the stairs with them, the gardener met him, and said: 'How +can you take the king's daughter a garland of such common flowers? Go +quickly, and get another, and seek out the prettiest and rarest.' 'Oh, +no,' replied the boy, 'the wild ones have more scent, and will please +her better.' When he got into the room, the king's daughter said: 'Take +your cap off, it is not seemly to keep it on in my presence.' He again +said: 'I may not, I have a sore head.' She, however, caught at his +cap and pulled it off, and then his golden hair rolled down on his +shoulders, and it was splendid to behold. He wanted to run out, but she +held him by the arm, and gave him a handful of ducats. With these he +departed, but he cared nothing for the gold pieces. He took them to the +gardener, and said: 'I present them to your children, they can play with +them.' The following day the king's daughter again called to him that he +was to bring her a wreath of field-flowers, and then he went in with it, +she instantly snatched at his cap, and wanted to take it away from him, +but he held it fast with both hands. She again gave him a handful of +ducats, but he would not keep them, and gave them to the gardener for +playthings for his children. On the third day things went just the +same; she could not get his cap away from him, and he would not have her +money. + +Not long afterwards, the country was overrun by war. The king gathered +together his people, and did not know whether or not he could offer any +opposition to the enemy, who was superior in strength and had a mighty +army. Then said the gardener's boy: 'I am grown up, and will go to the +wars also, only give me a horse.' The others laughed, and said: 'Seek +one for yourself when we are gone, we will leave one behind us in the +stable for you.' When they had gone forth, he went into the stable, and +led the horse out; it was lame of one foot, and limped hobblety jib, +hobblety jib; nevertheless he mounted it, and rode away to the dark +forest. When he came to the outskirts, he called 'Iron Hans' three +times so loudly that it echoed through the trees. Thereupon the wild man +appeared immediately, and said: 'What do you desire?' 'I want a strong +steed, for I am going to the wars.' 'That you shall have, and still more +than you ask for.' Then the wild man went back into the forest, and it +was not long before a stable-boy came out of it, who led a horse that +snorted with its nostrils, and could hardly be restrained, and behind +them followed a great troop of warriors entirely equipped in iron, and +their swords flashed in the sun. The youth made over his three-legged +horse to the stable-boy, mounted the other, and rode at the head of the +soldiers. When he got near the battlefield a great part of the king's +men had already fallen, and little was wanting to make the rest give +way. Then the youth galloped thither with his iron soldiers, broke like +a hurricane over the enemy, and beat down all who opposed him. They +began to flee, but the youth pursued, and never stopped, until there +was not a single man left. Instead of returning to the king, however, he +conducted his troop by byways back to the forest, and called forth Iron +Hans. 'What do you desire?' asked the wild man. 'Take back your horse +and your troops, and give me my three-legged horse again.' All that he +asked was done, and soon he was riding on his three-legged horse. When +the king returned to his palace, his daughter went to meet him, and +wished him joy of his victory. 'I am not the one who carried away the +victory,' said he, 'but a strange knight who came to my assistance with +his soldiers.' The daughter wanted to hear who the strange knight was, +but the king did not know, and said: 'He followed the enemy, and I did +not see him again.' She inquired of the gardener where his boy was, but +he smiled, and said: 'He has just come home on his three-legged horse, +and the others have been mocking him, and crying: "Here comes our +hobblety jib back again!" They asked, too: "Under what hedge have you +been lying sleeping all the time?" So he said: "I did the best of all, +and it would have gone badly without me." And then he was still more +ridiculed.' + +The king said to his daughter: 'I will proclaim a great feast that shall +last for three days, and you shall throw a golden apple. Perhaps the +unknown man will show himself.' When the feast was announced, the youth +went out to the forest, and called Iron Hans. 'What do you desire?' +asked he. 'That I may catch the king's daughter's golden apple.' 'It is +as safe as if you had it already,' said Iron Hans. 'You shall likewise +have a suit of red armour for the occasion, and ride on a spirited +chestnut-horse.' When the day came, the youth galloped to the spot, took +his place amongst the knights, and was recognized by no one. The king's +daughter came forward, and threw a golden apple to the knights, but none +of them caught it but he, only as soon as he had it he galloped away. + +On the second day Iron Hans equipped him as a white knight, and gave him +a white horse. Again he was the only one who caught the apple, and +he did not linger an instant, but galloped off with it. The king grew +angry, and said: 'That is not allowed; he must appear before me and tell +his name.' He gave the order that if the knight who caught the apple, +should go away again they should pursue him, and if he would not come +back willingly, they were to cut him down and stab him. + +On the third day, he received from Iron Hans a suit of black armour and +a black horse, and again he caught the apple. But when he was riding off +with it, the king's attendants pursued him, and one of them got so near +him that he wounded the youth's leg with the point of his sword. The +youth nevertheless escaped from them, but his horse leapt so violently +that the helmet fell from the youth's head, and they could see that he +had golden hair. They rode back and announced this to the king. + +The following day the king's daughter asked the gardener about his +boy. 'He is at work in the garden; the queer creature has been at the +festival too, and only came home yesterday evening; he has likewise +shown my children three golden apples which he has won.' + +The king had him summoned into his presence, and he came and again had +his little cap on his head. But the king's daughter went up to him and +took it off, and then his golden hair fell down over his shoulders, and +he was so handsome that all were amazed. 'Are you the knight who came +every day to the festival, always in different colours, and who caught +the three golden apples?' asked the king. 'Yes,' answered he, 'and here +the apples are,' and he took them out of his pocket, and returned them +to the king. 'If you desire further proof, you may see the wound which +your people gave me when they followed me. But I am likewise the knight +who helped you to your victory over your enemies.' 'If you can perform +such deeds as that, you are no gardener's boy; tell me, who is your +father?' 'My father is a mighty king, and gold have I in plenty as great +as I require.' 'I well see,' said the king, 'that I owe my thanks to +you; can I do anything to please you?' 'Yes,' answered he, 'that indeed +you can. Give me your daughter to wife.' The maiden laughed, and said: +'He does not stand much on ceremony, but I have already seen by his +golden hair that he was no gardener's boy,' and then she went and +kissed him. His father and mother came to the wedding, and were in great +delight, for they had given up all hope of ever seeing their dear +son again. And as they were sitting at the marriage-feast, the music +suddenly stopped, the doors opened, and a stately king came in with a +great retinue. He went up to the youth, embraced him and said: 'I am +Iron Hans, and was by enchantment a wild man, but you have set me free; +all the treasures which I possess, shall be your property.' + + + + +CAT-SKIN + +There was once a king, whose queen had hair of the purest gold, and was +so beautiful that her match was not to be met with on the whole face of +the earth. But this beautiful queen fell ill, and when she felt that her +end drew near she called the king to her and said, 'Promise me that you +will never marry again, unless you meet with a wife who is as beautiful +as I am, and who has golden hair like mine.' Then when the king in his +grief promised all she asked, she shut her eyes and died. But the king +was not to be comforted, and for a long time never thought of taking +another wife. At last, however, his wise men said, 'this will not do; +the king must marry again, that we may have a queen.' So messengers were +sent far and wide, to seek for a bride as beautiful as the late queen. +But there was no princess in the world so beautiful; and if there had +been, still there was not one to be found who had golden hair. So the +messengers came home, and had had all their trouble for nothing. + +Now the king had a daughter, who was just as beautiful as her mother, +and had the same golden hair. And when she was grown up, the king looked +at her and saw that she was just like this late queen: then he said to +his courtiers, 'May I not marry my daughter? She is the very image of my +dead wife: unless I have her, I shall not find any bride upon the whole +earth, and you say there must be a queen.' When the courtiers heard this +they were shocked, and said, 'Heaven forbid that a father should marry +his daughter! Out of so great a sin no good can come.' And his daughter +was also shocked, but hoped the king would soon give up such thoughts; +so she said to him, 'Before I marry anyone I must have three dresses: +one must be of gold, like the sun; another must be of shining silver, +like the moon; and a third must be dazzling as the stars: besides this, +I want a mantle of a thousand different kinds of fur put together, to +which every beast in the kingdom must give a part of his skin.' And thus +she thought he would think of the matter no more. But the king made the +most skilful workmen in his kingdom weave the three dresses: one golden, +like the sun; another silvery, like the moon; and a third sparkling, +like the stars: and his hunters were told to hunt out all the beasts in +his kingdom, and to take the finest fur out of their skins: and thus a +mantle of a thousand furs was made. + +When all were ready, the king sent them to her; but she got up in the +night when all were asleep, and took three of her trinkets, a golden +ring, a golden necklace, and a golden brooch, and packed the three +dresses--of the sun, the moon, and the stars--up in a nutshell, and +wrapped herself up in the mantle made of all sorts of fur, and besmeared +her face and hands with soot. Then she threw herself upon Heaven for +help in her need, and went away, and journeyed on the whole night, till +at last she came to a large wood. As she was very tired, she sat herself +down in the hollow of a tree and soon fell asleep: and there she slept +on till it was midday. + +Now as the king to whom the wood belonged was hunting in it, his dogs +came to the tree, and began to snuff about, and run round and round, and +bark. 'Look sharp!' said the king to the huntsmen, 'and see what sort +of game lies there.' And the huntsmen went up to the tree, and when they +came back again said, 'In the hollow tree there lies a most wonderful +beast, such as we never saw before; its skin seems to be of a thousand +kinds of fur, but there it lies fast asleep.' 'See,' said the king, 'if +you can catch it alive, and we will take it with us.' So the huntsmen +took it up, and the maiden awoke and was greatly frightened, and said, +'I am a poor child that has neither father nor mother left; have pity on +me and take me with you.' Then they said, 'Yes, Miss Cat-skin, you will +do for the kitchen; you can sweep up the ashes, and do things of that +sort.' So they put her into the coach, and took her home to the king's +palace. Then they showed her a little corner under the staircase, where +no light of day ever peeped in, and said, 'Cat-skin, you may lie and +sleep there.' And she was sent into the kitchen, and made to fetch wood +and water, to blow the fire, pluck the poultry, pick the herbs, sift the +ashes, and do all the dirty work. + +Thus Cat-skin lived for a long time very sorrowfully. 'Ah! pretty +princess!' thought she, 'what will now become of thee?' But it happened +one day that a feast was to be held in the king's castle, so she said to +the cook, 'May I go up a little while and see what is going on? I will +take care and stand behind the door.' And the cook said, 'Yes, you may +go, but be back again in half an hour's time, to rake out the ashes.' +Then she took her little lamp, and went into her cabin, and took off the +fur skin, and washed the soot from off her face and hands, so that her +beauty shone forth like the sun from behind the clouds. She next opened +her nutshell, and brought out of it the dress that shone like the sun, +and so went to the feast. Everyone made way for her, for nobody knew +her, and they thought she could be no less than a king's daughter. But +the king came up to her, and held out his hand and danced with her; and +he thought in his heart, 'I never saw any one half so beautiful.' + +When the dance was at an end she curtsied; and when the king looked +round for her, she was gone, no one knew wither. The guards that stood +at the castle gate were called in: but they had seen no one. The truth +was, that she had run into her little cabin, pulled off her dress, +blackened her face and hands, put on the fur-skin cloak, and was +Cat-skin again. When she went into the kitchen to her work, and began +to rake the ashes, the cook said, 'Let that alone till the morning, and +heat the king's soup; I should like to run up now and give a peep: but +take care you don't let a hair fall into it, or you will run a chance of +never eating again.' + +As soon as the cook went away, Cat-skin heated the king's soup, and +toasted a slice of bread first, as nicely as ever she could; and when it +was ready, she went and looked in the cabin for her little golden ring, +and put it into the dish in which the soup was. When the dance was over, +the king ordered his soup to be brought in; and it pleased him so well, +that he thought he had never tasted any so good before. At the bottom +he saw a gold ring lying; and as he could not make out how it had got +there, he ordered the cook to be sent for. The cook was frightened when +he heard the order, and said to Cat-skin, 'You must have let a hair fall +into the soup; if it be so, you will have a good beating.' Then he went +before the king, and he asked him who had cooked the soup. 'I did,' +answered the cook. But the king said, 'That is not true; it was better +done than you could do it.' Then he answered, 'To tell the truth I did +not cook it, but Cat-skin did.' 'Then let Cat-skin come up,' said the +king: and when she came he said to her, 'Who are you?' 'I am a poor +child,' said she, 'that has lost both father and mother.' 'How came you +in my palace?' asked he. 'I am good for nothing,' said she, 'but to be +scullion-girl, and to have boots and shoes thrown at my head.' 'But how +did you get the ring that was in the soup?' asked the king. Then she +would not own that she knew anything about the ring; so the king sent +her away again about her business. + +After a time there was another feast, and Cat-skin asked the cook to let +her go up and see it as before. 'Yes,' said he, 'but come again in half +an hour, and cook the king the soup that he likes so much.' Then she +ran to her little cabin, washed herself quickly, and took her dress +out which was silvery as the moon, and put it on; and when she went in, +looking like a king's daughter, the king went up to her, and rejoiced at +seeing her again, and when the dance began he danced with her. After the +dance was at an end she managed to slip out, so slyly that the king did +not see where she was gone; but she sprang into her little cabin, and +made herself into Cat-skin again, and went into the kitchen to cook the +soup. Whilst the cook was above stairs, she got the golden necklace and +dropped it into the soup; then it was brought to the king, who ate it, +and it pleased him as well as before; so he sent for the cook, who +was again forced to tell him that Cat-skin had cooked it. Cat-skin was +brought again before the king, but she still told him that she was only +fit to have boots and shoes thrown at her head. + +But when the king had ordered a feast to be got ready for the third +time, it happened just the same as before. 'You must be a witch, +Cat-skin,' said the cook; 'for you always put something into your soup, +so that it pleases the king better than mine.' However, he let her go up +as before. Then she put on her dress which sparkled like the stars, and +went into the ball-room in it; and the king danced with her again, and +thought she had never looked so beautiful as she did then. So whilst +he was dancing with her, he put a gold ring on her finger without her +seeing it, and ordered that the dance should be kept up a long time. +When it was at an end, he would have held her fast by the hand, but she +slipped away, and sprang so quickly through the crowd that he lost sight +of her: and she ran as fast as she could into her little cabin under +the stairs. But this time she kept away too long, and stayed beyond the +half-hour; so she had not time to take off her fine dress, and threw her +fur mantle over it, and in her haste did not blacken herself all over +with soot, but left one of her fingers white. + +Then she ran into the kitchen, and cooked the king's soup; and as soon +as the cook was gone, she put the golden brooch into the dish. When the +king got to the bottom, he ordered Cat-skin to be called once more, and +soon saw the white finger, and the ring that he had put on it whilst +they were dancing: so he seized her hand, and kept fast hold of it, and +when she wanted to loose herself and spring away, the fur cloak fell off +a little on one side, and the starry dress sparkled underneath it. + +Then he got hold of the fur and tore it off, and her golden hair and +beautiful form were seen, and she could no longer hide herself: so she +washed the soot and ashes from her face, and showed herself to be the +most beautiful princess upon the face of the earth. But the king said, +'You are my beloved bride, and we will never more be parted from each +other.' And the wedding feast was held, and a merry day it was, as ever +was heard of or seen in that country, or indeed in any other. + + + + +SNOW-WHITE AND ROSE-RED + +There was once a poor widow who lived in a lonely cottage. In front of +the cottage was a garden wherein stood two rose-trees, one of which bore +white and the other red roses. She had two children who were like the +two rose-trees, and one was called Snow-white, and the other Rose-red. +They were as good and happy, as busy and cheerful as ever two children +in the world were, only Snow-white was more quiet and gentle than +Rose-red. Rose-red liked better to run about in the meadows and fields +seeking flowers and catching butterflies; but Snow-white sat at home +with her mother, and helped her with her housework, or read to her when +there was nothing to do. + +The two children were so fond of one another that they always held each +other by the hand when they went out together, and when Snow-white said: +'We will not leave each other,' Rose-red answered: 'Never so long as we +live,' and their mother would add: 'What one has she must share with the +other.' + +They often ran about the forest alone and gathered red berries, and no +beasts did them any harm, but came close to them trustfully. The little +hare would eat a cabbage-leaf out of their hands, the roe grazed by +their side, the stag leapt merrily by them, and the birds sat still upon +the boughs, and sang whatever they knew. + +No mishap overtook them; if they had stayed too late in the forest, and +night came on, they laid themselves down near one another upon the moss, +and slept until morning came, and their mother knew this and did not +worry on their account. + +Once when they had spent the night in the wood and the dawn had roused +them, they saw a beautiful child in a shining white dress sitting near +their bed. He got up and looked quite kindly at them, but said nothing +and went into the forest. And when they looked round they found that +they had been sleeping quite close to a precipice, and would certainly +have fallen into it in the darkness if they had gone only a few paces +further. And their mother told them that it must have been the angel who +watches over good children. + +Snow-white and Rose-red kept their mother's little cottage so neat that +it was a pleasure to look inside it. In the summer Rose-red took care +of the house, and every morning laid a wreath of flowers by her mother's +bed before she awoke, in which was a rose from each tree. In the winter +Snow-white lit the fire and hung the kettle on the hob. The kettle +was of brass and shone like gold, so brightly was it polished. In the +evening, when the snowflakes fell, the mother said: 'Go, Snow-white, and +bolt the door,' and then they sat round the hearth, and the mother took +her spectacles and read aloud out of a large book, and the two girls +listened as they sat and spun. And close by them lay a lamb upon the +floor, and behind them upon a perch sat a white dove with its head +hidden beneath its wings. + +One evening, as they were thus sitting comfortably together, someone +knocked at the door as if he wished to be let in. The mother said: +'Quick, Rose-red, open the door, it must be a traveller who is seeking +shelter.' Rose-red went and pushed back the bolt, thinking that it was a +poor man, but it was not; it was a bear that stretched his broad, black +head within the door. + +Rose-red screamed and sprang back, the lamb bleated, the dove fluttered, +and Snow-white hid herself behind her mother's bed. But the bear began +to speak and said: 'Do not be afraid, I will do you no harm! I am +half-frozen, and only want to warm myself a little beside you.' + +'Poor bear,' said the mother, 'lie down by the fire, only take care that +you do not burn your coat.' Then she cried: 'Snow-white, Rose-red, come +out, the bear will do you no harm, he means well.' So they both came +out, and by-and-by the lamb and dove came nearer, and were not afraid +of him. The bear said: 'Here, children, knock the snow out of my coat a +little'; so they brought the broom and swept the bear's hide clean; +and he stretched himself by the fire and growled contentedly and +comfortably. It was not long before they grew quite at home, and played +tricks with their clumsy guest. They tugged his hair with their hands, +put their feet upon his back and rolled him about, or they took a +hazel-switch and beat him, and when he growled they laughed. But the +bear took it all in good part, only when they were too rough he called +out: 'Leave me alive, children, + + Snow-white, Rose-red, + Will you beat your wooer dead?' + +When it was bed-time, and the others went to bed, the mother said to the +bear: 'You can lie there by the hearth, and then you will be safe from +the cold and the bad weather.' As soon as day dawned the two children +let him out, and he trotted across the snow into the forest. + +Henceforth the bear came every evening at the same time, laid himself +down by the hearth, and let the children amuse themselves with him as +much as they liked; and they got so used to him that the doors were +never fastened until their black friend had arrived. + +When spring had come and all outside was green, the bear said one +morning to Snow-white: 'Now I must go away, and cannot come back for the +whole summer.' 'Where are you going, then, dear bear?' asked Snow-white. +'I must go into the forest and guard my treasures from the wicked +dwarfs. In the winter, when the earth is frozen hard, they are obliged +to stay below and cannot work their way through; but now, when the sun +has thawed and warmed the earth, they break through it, and come out to +pry and steal; and what once gets into their hands, and in their caves, +does not easily see daylight again.' + +Snow-white was quite sorry at his departure, and as she unbolted the +door for him, and the bear was hurrying out, he caught against the bolt +and a piece of his hairy coat was torn off, and it seemed to Snow-white +as if she had seen gold shining through it, but she was not sure about +it. The bear ran away quickly, and was soon out of sight behind the +trees. + +A short time afterwards the mother sent her children into the forest +to get firewood. There they found a big tree which lay felled on the +ground, and close by the trunk something was jumping backwards and +forwards in the grass, but they could not make out what it was. When +they came nearer they saw a dwarf with an old withered face and a +snow-white beard a yard long. The end of the beard was caught in a +crevice of the tree, and the little fellow was jumping about like a dog +tied to a rope, and did not know what to do. + +He glared at the girls with his fiery red eyes and cried: 'Why do you +stand there? Can you not come here and help me?' 'What are you up to, +little man?' asked Rose-red. 'You stupid, prying goose!' answered the +dwarf: 'I was going to split the tree to get a little wood for cooking. +The little bit of food that we people get is immediately burnt up with +heavy logs; we do not swallow so much as you coarse, greedy folk. I had +just driven the wedge safely in, and everything was going as I wished; +but the cursed wedge was too smooth and suddenly sprang out, and the +tree closed so quickly that I could not pull out my beautiful white +beard; so now it is tight and I cannot get away, and the silly, sleek, +milk-faced things laugh! Ugh! how odious you are!' + +The children tried very hard, but they could not pull the beard out, it +was caught too fast. 'I will run and fetch someone,' said Rose-red. 'You +senseless goose!' snarled the dwarf; 'why should you fetch someone? You +are already two too many for me; can you not think of something better?' +'Don't be impatient,' said Snow-white, 'I will help you,' and she pulled +her scissors out of her pocket, and cut off the end of the beard. + +As soon as the dwarf felt himself free he laid hold of a bag which lay +amongst the roots of the tree, and which was full of gold, and lifted it +up, grumbling to himself: 'Uncouth people, to cut off a piece of my fine +beard. Bad luck to you!' and then he swung the bag upon his back, and +went off without even once looking at the children. + +Some time afterwards Snow-white and Rose-red went to catch a dish +of fish. As they came near the brook they saw something like a large +grasshopper jumping towards the water, as if it were going to leap in. +They ran to it and found it was the dwarf. 'Where are you going?' said +Rose-red; 'you surely don't want to go into the water?' 'I am not such +a fool!' cried the dwarf; 'don't you see that the accursed fish wants +to pull me in?' The little man had been sitting there fishing, and +unluckily the wind had tangled up his beard with the fishing-line; a +moment later a big fish made a bite and the feeble creature had not +strength to pull it out; the fish kept the upper hand and pulled the +dwarf towards him. He held on to all the reeds and rushes, but it was of +little good, for he was forced to follow the movements of the fish, and +was in urgent danger of being dragged into the water. + +The girls came just in time; they held him fast and tried to free his +beard from the line, but all in vain, beard and line were entangled fast +together. There was nothing to do but to bring out the scissors and cut +the beard, whereby a small part of it was lost. When the dwarf saw that +he screamed out: 'Is that civil, you toadstool, to disfigure a man's +face? Was it not enough to clip off the end of my beard? Now you have +cut off the best part of it. I cannot let myself be seen by my people. +I wish you had been made to run the soles off your shoes!' Then he took +out a sack of pearls which lay in the rushes, and without another word +he dragged it away and disappeared behind a stone. + +It happened that soon afterwards the mother sent the two children to the +town to buy needles and thread, and laces and ribbons. The road led them +across a heath upon which huge pieces of rock lay strewn about. There +they noticed a large bird hovering in the air, flying slowly round and +round above them; it sank lower and lower, and at last settled near a +rock not far away. Immediately they heard a loud, piteous cry. They ran +up and saw with horror that the eagle had seized their old acquaintance +the dwarf, and was going to carry him off. + +The children, full of pity, at once took tight hold of the little man, +and pulled against the eagle so long that at last he let his booty go. +As soon as the dwarf had recovered from his first fright he cried +with his shrill voice: 'Could you not have done it more carefully! You +dragged at my brown coat so that it is all torn and full of holes, you +clumsy creatures!' Then he took up a sack full of precious stones, and +slipped away again under the rock into his hole. The girls, who by +this time were used to his ingratitude, went on their way and did their +business in town. + +As they crossed the heath again on their way home they surprised the +dwarf, who had emptied out his bag of precious stones in a clean spot, +and had not thought that anyone would come there so late. The evening +sun shone upon the brilliant stones; they glittered and sparkled with +all colours so beautifully that the children stood still and stared +at them. 'Why do you stand gaping there?' cried the dwarf, and his +ashen-grey face became copper-red with rage. He was still cursing when a +loud growling was heard, and a black bear came trotting towards them out +of the forest. The dwarf sprang up in a fright, but he could not reach +his cave, for the bear was already close. Then in the dread of his heart +he cried: 'Dear Mr Bear, spare me, I will give you all my treasures; +look, the beautiful jewels lying there! Grant me my life; what do you +want with such a slender little fellow as I? you would not feel me +between your teeth. Come, take these two wicked girls, they are tender +morsels for you, fat as young quails; for mercy's sake eat them!' The +bear took no heed of his words, but gave the wicked creature a single +blow with his paw, and he did not move again. + +The girls had run away, but the bear called to them: 'Snow-white and +Rose-red, do not be afraid; wait, I will come with you.' Then they +recognized his voice and waited, and when he came up to them suddenly +his bearskin fell off, and he stood there a handsome man, clothed all in +gold. 'I am a king's son,' he said, 'and I was bewitched by that wicked +dwarf, who had stolen my treasures; I have had to run about the forest +as a savage bear until I was freed by his death. Now he has got his +well-deserved punishment. + +Snow-white was married to him, and Rose-red to his brother, and they +divided between them the great treasure which the dwarf had gathered +together in his cave. The old mother lived peacefully and happily with +her children for many years. She took the two rose-trees with her, and +they stood before her window, and every year bore the most beautiful +roses, white and red. + + +***** + + +The Brothers Grimm, Jacob (1785-1863) and Wilhelm (1786-1859), were born +in Hanau, near Frankfurt, in the German state of Hesse. Throughout +their lives they remained close friends, and both studied law at Marburg +University. Jacob was a pioneer in the study of German philology, +and although Wilhelm's work was hampered by poor health the brothers +collaborated in the creation of a German dictionary, not completed until +a century after their deaths. But they were best (and universally) known +for the collection of over two hundred folk tales they made from oral +sources and published in two volumes of 'Nursery and Household Tales' in +1812 and 1814. Although their intention was to preserve such material as +part of German cultural and literary history, and their collection was +first published with scholarly notes and no illustration, the tales soon +came into the possession of young readers. This was in part due to Edgar +Taylor, who made the first English translation in 1823, selecting about +fifty stories 'with the amusement of some young friends principally in +view.' They have been an essential ingredient of children's reading ever +since. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Grimms' Fairy Tales, by The Brothers Grimm + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRIMMS' FAIRY TALES *** + +***** This file should be named 2591.txt or 2591.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/9/2591/ + +Produced by Emma Dudding, John Bickers, and Dagny + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/src/main/pg-huckleberry_finn.txt b/src/main/pg-huckleberry_finn.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d39524d --- /dev/null +++ b/src/main/pg-huckleberry_finn.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12361 @@ + + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Complete +by Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost +no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use +it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this +eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net + +Title: Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Complete + +Author: Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) + +Release Date: August 20, 2006 [EBook #76] + +Last Updated: April 18, 2015] + +Language: English + + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HUCKLEBERRY FINN *** + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +ADVENTURES + +OF + +HUCKLEBERRY FINN + +(Tom Sawyer's Comrade) + +By Mark Twain + +Complete + + + + +CONTENTS. + +CHAPTER I. Civilizing Huck.--Miss Watson.--Tom Sawyer Waits. + +CHAPTER II. The Boys Escape Jim.--Torn Sawyer's Gang.--Deep-laid Plans. + +CHAPTER III. A Good Going-over.--Grace Triumphant.--"One of Tom Sawyers's +Lies". + +CHAPTER IV. Huck and the Judge.--Superstition. + +CHAPTER V. Huck's Father.--The Fond Parent.--Reform. + +CHAPTER VI. He Went for Judge Thatcher.--Huck Decided to Leave.--Political +Economy.--Thrashing Around. + +CHAPTER VII. Laying for Him.--Locked in the Cabin.--Sinking the +Body.--Resting. + +CHAPTER VIII. Sleeping in the Woods.--Raising the Dead.--Exploring the +Island.--Finding Jim.--Jim's Escape.--Signs.--Balum. + +CHAPTER IX. The Cave.--The Floating House. + +CHAPTER X. The Find.--Old Hank Bunker.--In Disguise. + +CHAPTER XI. Huck and the Woman.--The Search.--Prevarication.--Going to +Goshen. + +CHAPTER XII. Slow Navigation.--Borrowing Things.--Boarding the Wreck.--The +Plotters.--Hunting for the Boat. + +CHAPTER XIII. Escaping from the Wreck.--The Watchman.--Sinking. + +CHAPTER XIV. A General Good Time.--The Harem.--French. + +CHAPTER XV. Huck Loses the Raft.--In the Fog.--Huck Finds the Raft.--Trash. + +CHAPTER XVI. Expectation.--A White Lie.--Floating Currency.--Running by +Cairo.--Swimming Ashore. + +CHAPTER XVII. An Evening Call.--The Farm in Arkansaw.--Interior +Decorations.--Stephen Dowling Bots.--Poetical Effusions. + +CHAPTER XVIII. Col. Grangerford.--Aristocracy.--Feuds.--The +Testament.--Recovering the Raft.--The Wood--pile.--Pork and Cabbage. + +CHAPTER XIX. Tying Up Day--times.--An Astronomical Theory.--Running a +Temperance Revival.--The Duke of Bridgewater.--The Troubles of Royalty. + +CHAPTER XX. Huck Explains.--Laying Out a Campaign.--Working the +Camp--meeting.--A Pirate at the Camp--meeting.--The Duke as a Printer. + +CHAPTER XXI. Sword Exercise.--Hamlet's Soliloquy.--They Loafed Around +Town.--A Lazy Town.--Old Boggs.--Dead. + +CHAPTER XXII. Sherburn.--Attending the Circus.--Intoxication in the +Ring.--The Thrilling Tragedy. + +CHAPTER XXIII. Sold.--Royal Comparisons.--Jim Gets Home-sick. + +CHAPTER XXIV. Jim in Royal Robes.--They Take a Passenger.--Getting +Information.--Family Grief. + +CHAPTER XXV. Is It Them?--Singing the "Doxologer."--Awful Square--Funeral +Orgies.--A Bad Investment . + +CHAPTER XXVI. A Pious King.--The King's Clergy.--She Asked His +Pardon.--Hiding in the Room.--Huck Takes the Money. + +CHAPTER XXVII. The Funeral.--Satisfying Curiosity.--Suspicious of +Huck,--Quick Sales and Small. + +CHAPTER XXVIII. The Trip to England.--"The Brute!"--Mary Jane Decides to +Leave.--Huck Parting with Mary Jane.--Mumps.--The Opposition Line. + +CHAPTER XXIX. Contested Relationship.--The King Explains the Loss.--A +Question of Handwriting.--Digging up the Corpse.--Huck Escapes. + +CHAPTER XXX. The King Went for Him.--A Royal Row.--Powerful Mellow. + +CHAPTER XXXI. Ominous Plans.--News from Jim.--Old Recollections.--A Sheep +Story.--Valuable Information. + +CHAPTER XXXII. Still and Sunday--like.--Mistaken Identity.--Up a Stump.--In +a Dilemma. + +CHAPTER XXXIII. A Nigger Stealer.--Southern Hospitality.--A Pretty Long +Blessing.--Tar and Feathers. + +CHAPTER XXXIV. The Hut by the Ash Hopper.--Outrageous.--Climbing the +Lightning Rod.--Troubled with Witches. + +CHAPTER XXXV. Escaping Properly.--Dark Schemes.--Discrimination in +Stealing.--A Deep Hole. + +CHAPTER XXXVI. The Lightning Rod.--His Level Best.--A Bequest to +Posterity.--A High Figure. + +CHAPTER XXXVII. The Last Shirt.--Mooning Around.--Sailing Orders.--The +Witch Pie. + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. The Coat of Arms.--A Skilled Superintendent.--Unpleasant +Glory.--A Tearful Subject. + +CHAPTER XXXIX. Rats.--Lively Bed--fellows.--The Straw Dummy. + +CHAPTER XL. Fishing.--The Vigilance Committee.--A Lively Run.--Jim Advises +a Doctor. + +CHAPTER XLI. The Doctor.--Uncle Silas.--Sister Hotchkiss.--Aunt Sally in +Trouble. + +CHAPTER XLII. Tom Sawyer Wounded.--The Doctor's Story.--Tom +Confesses.--Aunt Polly Arrives.--Hand Out Them Letters . + +CHAPTER THE LAST. Out of Bondage.--Paying the Captive.--Yours Truly, Huck +Finn. + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS. + +The Widows + +Moses and the "Bulrushers" + +Miss Watson + +Huck Stealing Away + +They Tip-toed Along + +Jim + +Tom Sawyer's Band of Robbers + +Huck Creeps into his Window + +Miss Watson's Lecture + +The Robbers Dispersed + +Rubbing the Lamp + +! ! ! ! + +Judge Thatcher surprised + +Jim Listening + +"Pap" + +Huck and his Father + +Reforming the Drunkard + +Falling from Grace + +The Widows + +Moses and the "Bulrushers" + +Miss Watson + +Huck Stealing Away + +They Tip-toed Along + +Jim + +Tom Sawyer's Band of Robbers + +Huck Creeps into his Window + +Miss Watson's Lecture + +The Robbers Dispersed + +Rubbing the Lamp + +! ! ! ! + +Judge Thatcher surprised + +Jim Listening + +"Pap" + +Huck and his Father + +Reforming the Drunkard + +Falling from Grace + +Getting out of the Way + +Solid Comfort + +Thinking it Over + +Raising a Howl + +"Git Up" + +The Shanty + +Shooting the Pig + +Taking a Rest + +In the Woods + +Watching the Boat + +Discovering the Camp Fire + +Jim and the Ghost + +Misto Bradish's Nigger + +Exploring the Cave + +In the Cave + +Jim sees a Dead Man + +They Found Eight Dollars + +Jim and the Snake + +Old Hank Bunker + +"A Fair Fit" + +"Come In" + +"Him and another Man" + +She puts up a Snack + +"Hump Yourself" + +On the Raft + +He sometimes Lifted a Chicken + +"Please don't, Bill" + +"It ain't Good Morals" + +"Oh! Lordy, Lordy!" + +In a Fix + +"Hello, What's Up?" + +The Wreck + +We turned in and Slept + +Turning over the Truck + +Solomon and his Million Wives + +The story of "Sollermun" + +"We Would Sell the Raft" + +Among the Snags + +Asleep on the Raft + +"Something being Raftsman" + +"Boy, that's a Lie" + +"Here I is, Huck" + +Climbing up the Bank + +"Who's There?" + +"Buck" + +"It made Her look Spidery" + +"They got him out and emptied Him" + +The House + +Col. Grangerford + +Young Harney Shepherdson + +Miss Charlotte + +"And asked me if I Liked Her" + +"Behind the Wood-pile" + +Hiding Day-times + +"And Dogs a-Coming" + +"By rights I am a Duke!" + +"I am the Late Dauphin" + +Tail Piece + +On the Raft + +The King as Juliet + +"Courting on the Sly" + +"A Pirate for Thirty Years" + +Another little Job + +Practizing + +Hamlet's Soliloquy + +"Gimme a Chaw" + +A Little Monthly Drunk + +The Death of Boggs + +Sherburn steps out + +A Dead Head + +He shed Seventeen Suits + +Tragedy + +Their Pockets Bulged + +Henry the Eighth in Boston Harbor + +Harmless + +Adolphus + +He fairly emptied that Young Fellow + +"Alas, our Poor Brother" + +"You Bet it is" + +Leaking + +Making up the "Deffisit" + +Going for him + +The Doctor + +The Bag of Money + +The Cubby + +Supper with the Hare-Lip + +Honest Injun + +The Duke looks under the Bed + +Huck takes the Money + +A Crack in the Dining-room Door + +The Undertaker + +"He had a Rat!" + +"Was you in my Room?" + +Jawing + +In Trouble + +Indignation + +How to Find Them + +He Wrote + +Hannah with the Mumps + +The Auction + +The True Brothers + +The Doctor leads Huck + +The Duke Wrote + +"Gentlemen, Gentlemen!" + +"Jim Lit Out" + +The King shakes Huck + +The Duke went for Him + +Spanish Moss + +"Who Nailed Him?" + +Thinking + +He gave him Ten Cents + +Striking for the Back Country + +Still and Sunday-like + +She hugged him tight + +"Who do you reckon it is?" + +"It was Tom Sawyer" + +"Mr. Archibald Nichols, I presume?" + +A pretty long Blessing + +Traveling By Rail + +Vittles + +A Simple Job + +Witches + +Getting Wood + +One of the Best Authorities + +The Breakfast-Horn + +Smouching the Knives + +Going down the Lightning-Rod + +Stealing spoons + +Tom advises a Witch Pie + +The Rubbage-Pile + +"Missus, dey's a Sheet Gone" + +In a Tearing Way + +One of his Ancestors + +Jim's Coat of Arms + +A Tough Job + +Buttons on their Tails + +Irrigation + +Keeping off Dull Times + +Sawdust Diet + +Trouble is Brewing + +Fishing + +Every one had a Gun + +Tom caught on a Splinter + +Jim advises a Doctor + +The Doctor + +Uncle Silas in Danger + +Old Mrs. Hotchkiss + +Aunt Sally talks to Huck + +Tom Sawyer wounded + +The Doctor speaks for Jim + +Tom rose square up in Bed + +"Hand out them Letters" + +Out of Bondage + +Tom's Liberality + +Yours Truly + + + + +EXPLANATORY + +IN this book a number of dialects are used, to wit: the Missouri negro +dialect; the extremest form of the backwoods Southwestern dialect; the +ordinary "Pike County" dialect; and four modified varieties of this +last. The shadings have not been done in a haphazard fashion, or by +guesswork; but painstakingly, and with the trustworthy guidance and +support of personal familiarity with these several forms of speech. + +I make this explanation for the reason that without it many readers +would suppose that all these characters were trying to talk alike and +not succeeding. + +THE AUTHOR. + + + + +HUCKLEBERRY FINN + +Scene: The Mississippi Valley Time: Forty to fifty years ago + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +YOU don't know about me without you have read a book by the name of The +Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain't no matter. That book was made +by Mr. Mark Twain, and he told the truth, mainly. There was things +which he stretched, but mainly he told the truth. That is nothing. I +never seen anybody but lied one time or another, without it was Aunt +Polly, or the widow, or maybe Mary. Aunt Polly--Tom's Aunt Polly, she +is--and Mary, and the Widow Douglas is all told about in that book, which +is mostly a true book, with some stretchers, as I said before. + +Now the way that the book winds up is this: Tom and me found the money +that the robbers hid in the cave, and it made us rich. We got six +thousand dollars apiece--all gold. It was an awful sight of money when +it was piled up. Well, Judge Thatcher he took it and put it out +at interest, and it fetched us a dollar a day apiece all the year +round--more than a body could tell what to do with. The Widow Douglas +she took me for her son, and allowed she would sivilize me; but it was +rough living in the house all the time, considering how dismal regular +and decent the widow was in all her ways; and so when I couldn't stand +it no longer I lit out. I got into my old rags and my sugar-hogshead +again, and was free and satisfied. But Tom Sawyer he hunted me up and +said he was going to start a band of robbers, and I might join if I +would go back to the widow and be respectable. So I went back. + +The widow she cried over me, and called me a poor lost lamb, and she +called me a lot of other names, too, but she never meant no harm by +it. She put me in them new clothes again, and I couldn't do nothing but +sweat and sweat, and feel all cramped up. Well, then, the old thing +commenced again. The widow rung a bell for supper, and you had to come +to time. When you got to the table you couldn't go right to eating, but +you had to wait for the widow to tuck down her head and grumble a little +over the victuals, though there warn't really anything the matter with +them,--that is, nothing only everything was cooked by itself. In a +barrel of odds and ends it is different; things get mixed up, and the +juice kind of swaps around, and the things go better. + +After supper she got out her book and learned me about Moses and the +Bulrushers, and I was in a sweat to find out all about him; but by and +by she let it out that Moses had been dead a considerable long time; so +then I didn't care no more about him, because I don't take no stock in +dead people. + +Pretty soon I wanted to smoke, and asked the widow to let me. But she +wouldn't. She said it was a mean practice and wasn't clean, and I must +try to not do it any more. That is just the way with some people. They +get down on a thing when they don't know nothing about it. Here she was +a-bothering about Moses, which was no kin to her, and no use to anybody, +being gone, you see, yet finding a power of fault with me for doing a +thing that had some good in it. And she took snuff, too; of course that +was all right, because she done it herself. + +Her sister, Miss Watson, a tolerable slim old maid, with goggles on, +had just come to live with her, and took a set at me now with a +spelling-book. She worked me middling hard for about an hour, and then +the widow made her ease up. I couldn't stood it much longer. Then for +an hour it was deadly dull, and I was fidgety. Miss Watson would say, +"Don't put your feet up there, Huckleberry;" and "Don't scrunch up +like that, Huckleberry--set up straight;" and pretty soon she would +say, "Don't gap and stretch like that, Huckleberry--why don't you try to +behave?" Then she told me all about the bad place, and I said I wished +I was there. She got mad then, but I didn't mean no harm. All I wanted +was to go somewheres; all I wanted was a change, I warn't particular. + She said it was wicked to say what I said; said she wouldn't say it for +the whole world; she was going to live so as to go to the good place. + Well, I couldn't see no advantage in going where she was going, so I +made up my mind I wouldn't try for it. But I never said so, because it +would only make trouble, and wouldn't do no good. + +Now she had got a start, and she went on and told me all about the good +place. She said all a body would have to do there was to go around all +day long with a harp and sing, forever and ever. So I didn't think +much of it. But I never said so. I asked her if she reckoned Tom Sawyer +would go there, and she said not by a considerable sight. I was glad +about that, because I wanted him and me to be together. + +Miss Watson she kept pecking at me, and it got tiresome and lonesome. + By and by they fetched the niggers in and had prayers, and then +everybody was off to bed. I went up to my room with a piece of candle, +and put it on the table. Then I set down in a chair by the window and +tried to think of something cheerful, but it warn't no use. I felt +so lonesome I most wished I was dead. The stars were shining, and the +leaves rustled in the woods ever so mournful; and I heard an owl, away +off, who-whooing about somebody that was dead, and a whippowill and a +dog crying about somebody that was going to die; and the wind was trying +to whisper something to me, and I couldn't make out what it was, and so +it made the cold shivers run over me. Then away out in the woods I heard +that kind of a sound that a ghost makes when it wants to tell about +something that's on its mind and can't make itself understood, and so +can't rest easy in its grave, and has to go about that way every night +grieving. I got so down-hearted and scared I did wish I had some +company. Pretty soon a spider went crawling up my shoulder, and I +flipped it off and it lit in the candle; and before I could budge it +was all shriveled up. I didn't need anybody to tell me that that was +an awful bad sign and would fetch me some bad luck, so I was scared +and most shook the clothes off of me. I got up and turned around in my +tracks three times and crossed my breast every time; and then I tied +up a little lock of my hair with a thread to keep witches away. But +I hadn't no confidence. You do that when you've lost a horseshoe that +you've found, instead of nailing it up over the door, but I hadn't ever +heard anybody say it was any way to keep off bad luck when you'd killed +a spider. + +I set down again, a-shaking all over, and got out my pipe for a smoke; +for the house was all as still as death now, and so the widow wouldn't +know. Well, after a long time I heard the clock away off in the town +go boom--boom--boom--twelve licks; and all still again--stiller than +ever. Pretty soon I heard a twig snap down in the dark amongst the +trees--something was a stirring. I set still and listened. Directly I +could just barely hear a "me-yow! me-yow!" down there. That was good! + Says I, "me-yow! me-yow!" as soft as I could, and then I put out the +light and scrambled out of the window on to the shed. Then I slipped +down to the ground and crawled in among the trees, and, sure enough, +there was Tom Sawyer waiting for me. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +WE went tiptoeing along a path amongst the trees back towards the end of +the widow's garden, stooping down so as the branches wouldn't scrape our +heads. When we was passing by the kitchen I fell over a root and made +a noise. We scrouched down and laid still. Miss Watson's big nigger, +named Jim, was setting in the kitchen door; we could see him pretty +clear, because there was a light behind him. He got up and stretched +his neck out about a minute, listening. Then he says: + +"Who dah?" + +He listened some more; then he come tiptoeing down and stood right +between us; we could a touched him, nearly. Well, likely it was +minutes and minutes that there warn't a sound, and we all there so close +together. There was a place on my ankle that got to itching, but I +dasn't scratch it; and then my ear begun to itch; and next my back, +right between my shoulders. Seemed like I'd die if I couldn't scratch. + Well, I've noticed that thing plenty times since. If you are with +the quality, or at a funeral, or trying to go to sleep when you ain't +sleepy--if you are anywheres where it won't do for you to scratch, why +you will itch all over in upwards of a thousand places. Pretty soon Jim +says: + +"Say, who is you? Whar is you? Dog my cats ef I didn' hear sumf'n. +Well, I know what I's gwyne to do: I's gwyne to set down here and +listen tell I hears it agin." + +So he set down on the ground betwixt me and Tom. He leaned his back up +against a tree, and stretched his legs out till one of them most touched +one of mine. My nose begun to itch. It itched till the tears come into +my eyes. But I dasn't scratch. Then it begun to itch on the inside. +Next I got to itching underneath. I didn't know how I was going to set +still. This miserableness went on as much as six or seven minutes; but +it seemed a sight longer than that. I was itching in eleven different +places now. I reckoned I couldn't stand it more'n a minute longer, +but I set my teeth hard and got ready to try. Just then Jim begun +to breathe heavy; next he begun to snore--and then I was pretty soon +comfortable again. + +Tom he made a sign to me--kind of a little noise with his mouth--and we +went creeping away on our hands and knees. When we was ten foot off Tom +whispered to me, and wanted to tie Jim to the tree for fun. But I said +no; he might wake and make a disturbance, and then they'd find out I +warn't in. Then Tom said he hadn't got candles enough, and he would slip +in the kitchen and get some more. I didn't want him to try. I said Jim +might wake up and come. But Tom wanted to resk it; so we slid in there +and got three candles, and Tom laid five cents on the table for pay. +Then we got out, and I was in a sweat to get away; but nothing would do +Tom but he must crawl to where Jim was, on his hands and knees, and play +something on him. I waited, and it seemed a good while, everything was +so still and lonesome. + +As soon as Tom was back we cut along the path, around the garden fence, +and by and by fetched up on the steep top of the hill the other side of +the house. Tom said he slipped Jim's hat off of his head and hung it +on a limb right over him, and Jim stirred a little, but he didn't wake. +Afterwards Jim said the witches be witched him and put him in a trance, +and rode him all over the State, and then set him under the trees again, +and hung his hat on a limb to show who done it. And next time Jim told +it he said they rode him down to New Orleans; and, after that, every +time he told it he spread it more and more, till by and by he said they +rode him all over the world, and tired him most to death, and his back +was all over saddle-boils. Jim was monstrous proud about it, and he +got so he wouldn't hardly notice the other niggers. Niggers would come +miles to hear Jim tell about it, and he was more looked up to than any +nigger in that country. Strange niggers would stand with their mouths +open and look him all over, same as if he was a wonder. Niggers is +always talking about witches in the dark by the kitchen fire; but +whenever one was talking and letting on to know all about such things, +Jim would happen in and say, "Hm! What you know 'bout witches?" and +that nigger was corked up and had to take a back seat. Jim always kept +that five-center piece round his neck with a string, and said it was a +charm the devil give to him with his own hands, and told him he could +cure anybody with it and fetch witches whenever he wanted to just by +saying something to it; but he never told what it was he said to it. + Niggers would come from all around there and give Jim anything they +had, just for a sight of that five-center piece; but they wouldn't touch +it, because the devil had had his hands on it. Jim was most ruined for +a servant, because he got stuck up on account of having seen the devil +and been rode by witches. + +Well, when Tom and me got to the edge of the hilltop we looked away down +into the village and could see three or four lights twinkling, where +there was sick folks, maybe; and the stars over us was sparkling ever +so fine; and down by the village was the river, a whole mile broad, and +awful still and grand. We went down the hill and found Jo Harper and +Ben Rogers, and two or three more of the boys, hid in the old tanyard. + So we unhitched a skiff and pulled down the river two mile and a half, +to the big scar on the hillside, and went ashore. + +We went to a clump of bushes, and Tom made everybody swear to keep the +secret, and then showed them a hole in the hill, right in the thickest +part of the bushes. Then we lit the candles, and crawled in on our +hands and knees. We went about two hundred yards, and then the cave +opened up. Tom poked about amongst the passages, and pretty soon ducked +under a wall where you wouldn't a noticed that there was a hole. We +went along a narrow place and got into a kind of room, all damp and +sweaty and cold, and there we stopped. Tom says: + +"Now, we'll start this band of robbers and call it Tom Sawyer's Gang. +Everybody that wants to join has got to take an oath, and write his name +in blood." + +Everybody was willing. So Tom got out a sheet of paper that he had +wrote the oath on, and read it. It swore every boy to stick to the +band, and never tell any of the secrets; and if anybody done anything to +any boy in the band, whichever boy was ordered to kill that person and +his family must do it, and he mustn't eat and he mustn't sleep till he +had killed them and hacked a cross in their breasts, which was the sign +of the band. And nobody that didn't belong to the band could use that +mark, and if he did he must be sued; and if he done it again he must be +killed. And if anybody that belonged to the band told the secrets, he +must have his throat cut, and then have his carcass burnt up and the +ashes scattered all around, and his name blotted off of the list with +blood and never mentioned again by the gang, but have a curse put on it +and be forgot forever. + +Everybody said it was a real beautiful oath, and asked Tom if he got +it out of his own head. He said, some of it, but the rest was out of +pirate-books and robber-books, and every gang that was high-toned had +it. + +Some thought it would be good to kill the _families_ of boys that told +the secrets. Tom said it was a good idea, so he took a pencil and wrote +it in. Then Ben Rogers says: + +"Here's Huck Finn, he hain't got no family; what you going to do 'bout +him?" + +"Well, hain't he got a father?" says Tom Sawyer. + +"Yes, he's got a father, but you can't never find him these days. He +used to lay drunk with the hogs in the tanyard, but he hain't been seen +in these parts for a year or more." + +They talked it over, and they was going to rule me out, because they +said every boy must have a family or somebody to kill, or else it +wouldn't be fair and square for the others. Well, nobody could think of +anything to do--everybody was stumped, and set still. I was most ready +to cry; but all at once I thought of a way, and so I offered them Miss +Watson--they could kill her. Everybody said: + +"Oh, she'll do. That's all right. Huck can come in." + +Then they all stuck a pin in their fingers to get blood to sign with, +and I made my mark on the paper. + +"Now," says Ben Rogers, "what's the line of business of this Gang?" + +"Nothing only robbery and murder," Tom said. + +"But who are we going to rob?--houses, or cattle, or--" + +"Stuff! stealing cattle and such things ain't robbery; it's burglary," +says Tom Sawyer. "We ain't burglars. That ain't no sort of style. We +are highwaymen. We stop stages and carriages on the road, with masks +on, and kill the people and take their watches and money." + +"Must we always kill the people?" + +"Oh, certainly. It's best. Some authorities think different, but +mostly it's considered best to kill them--except some that you bring to +the cave here, and keep them till they're ransomed." + +"Ransomed? What's that?" + +"I don't know. But that's what they do. I've seen it in books; and so +of course that's what we've got to do." + +"But how can we do it if we don't know what it is?" + +"Why, blame it all, we've _got_ to do it. Don't I tell you it's in the +books? Do you want to go to doing different from what's in the books, +and get things all muddled up?" + +"Oh, that's all very fine to _say_, Tom Sawyer, but how in the nation +are these fellows going to be ransomed if we don't know how to do it +to them?--that's the thing I want to get at. Now, what do you reckon it +is?" + +"Well, I don't know. But per'aps if we keep them till they're ransomed, +it means that we keep them till they're dead." + +"Now, that's something _like_. That'll answer. Why couldn't you said +that before? We'll keep them till they're ransomed to death; and a +bothersome lot they'll be, too--eating up everything, and always trying +to get loose." + +"How you talk, Ben Rogers. How can they get loose when there's a guard +over them, ready to shoot them down if they move a peg?" + +"A guard! Well, that _is_ good. So somebody's got to set up all night +and never get any sleep, just so as to watch them. I think that's +foolishness. Why can't a body take a club and ransom them as soon as +they get here?" + +"Because it ain't in the books so--that's why. Now, Ben Rogers, do you +want to do things regular, or don't you?--that's the idea. Don't you +reckon that the people that made the books knows what's the correct +thing to do? Do you reckon _you_ can learn 'em anything? Not by a good +deal. No, sir, we'll just go on and ransom them in the regular way." + +"All right. I don't mind; but I say it's a fool way, anyhow. Say, do +we kill the women, too?" + +"Well, Ben Rogers, if I was as ignorant as you I wouldn't let on. Kill +the women? No; nobody ever saw anything in the books like that. You +fetch them to the cave, and you're always as polite as pie to them; +and by and by they fall in love with you, and never want to go home any +more." + +"Well, if that's the way I'm agreed, but I don't take no stock in it. +Mighty soon we'll have the cave so cluttered up with women, and fellows +waiting to be ransomed, that there won't be no place for the robbers. +But go ahead, I ain't got nothing to say." + +Little Tommy Barnes was asleep now, and when they waked him up he was +scared, and cried, and said he wanted to go home to his ma, and didn't +want to be a robber any more. + +So they all made fun of him, and called him cry-baby, and that made him +mad, and he said he would go straight and tell all the secrets. But +Tom give him five cents to keep quiet, and said we would all go home and +meet next week, and rob somebody and kill some people. + +Ben Rogers said he couldn't get out much, only Sundays, and so he wanted +to begin next Sunday; but all the boys said it would be wicked to do it +on Sunday, and that settled the thing. They agreed to get together and +fix a day as soon as they could, and then we elected Tom Sawyer first +captain and Jo Harper second captain of the Gang, and so started home. + +I clumb up the shed and crept into my window just before day was +breaking. My new clothes was all greased up and clayey, and I was +dog-tired. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +WELL, I got a good going-over in the morning from old Miss Watson on +account of my clothes; but the widow she didn't scold, but only cleaned +off the grease and clay, and looked so sorry that I thought I would +behave awhile if I could. Then Miss Watson she took me in the closet +and prayed, but nothing come of it. She told me to pray every day, and +whatever I asked for I would get it. But it warn't so. I tried it. +Once I got a fish-line, but no hooks. It warn't any good to me without +hooks. I tried for the hooks three or four times, but somehow I +couldn't make it work. By and by, one day, I asked Miss Watson to +try for me, but she said I was a fool. She never told me why, and I +couldn't make it out no way. + +I set down one time back in the woods, and had a long think about it. + I says to myself, if a body can get anything they pray for, why don't +Deacon Winn get back the money he lost on pork? Why can't the widow get +back her silver snuffbox that was stole? Why can't Miss Watson fat up? +No, says I to my self, there ain't nothing in it. I went and told the +widow about it, and she said the thing a body could get by praying for +it was "spiritual gifts." This was too many for me, but she told me +what she meant--I must help other people, and do everything I could for +other people, and look out for them all the time, and never think about +myself. This was including Miss Watson, as I took it. I went out in the +woods and turned it over in my mind a long time, but I couldn't see no +advantage about it--except for the other people; so at last I reckoned +I wouldn't worry about it any more, but just let it go. Sometimes the +widow would take me one side and talk about Providence in a way to make +a body's mouth water; but maybe next day Miss Watson would take hold +and knock it all down again. I judged I could see that there was two +Providences, and a poor chap would stand considerable show with the +widow's Providence, but if Miss Watson's got him there warn't no help +for him any more. I thought it all out, and reckoned I would belong +to the widow's if he wanted me, though I couldn't make out how he was +a-going to be any better off then than what he was before, seeing I was +so ignorant, and so kind of low-down and ornery. + +Pap he hadn't been seen for more than a year, and that was comfortable +for me; I didn't want to see him no more. He used to always whale me +when he was sober and could get his hands on me; though I used to take +to the woods most of the time when he was around. Well, about this time +he was found in the river drownded, about twelve mile above town, so +people said. They judged it was him, anyway; said this drownded man was +just his size, and was ragged, and had uncommon long hair, which was all +like pap; but they couldn't make nothing out of the face, because it had +been in the water so long it warn't much like a face at all. They said +he was floating on his back in the water. They took him and buried him +on the bank. But I warn't comfortable long, because I happened to think +of something. I knowed mighty well that a drownded man don't float on +his back, but on his face. So I knowed, then, that this warn't pap, but +a woman dressed up in a man's clothes. So I was uncomfortable again. + I judged the old man would turn up again by and by, though I wished he +wouldn't. + +We played robber now and then about a month, and then I resigned. All +the boys did. We hadn't robbed nobody, hadn't killed any people, but +only just pretended. We used to hop out of the woods and go charging +down on hog-drivers and women in carts taking garden stuff to market, +but we never hived any of them. Tom Sawyer called the hogs "ingots," +and he called the turnips and stuff "julery," and we would go to the +cave and powwow over what we had done, and how many people we had killed +and marked. But I couldn't see no profit in it. One time Tom sent a +boy to run about town with a blazing stick, which he called a slogan +(which was the sign for the Gang to get together), and then he said he +had got secret news by his spies that next day a whole parcel of Spanish +merchants and rich A-rabs was going to camp in Cave Hollow with two +hundred elephants, and six hundred camels, and over a thousand "sumter" +mules, all loaded down with di'monds, and they didn't have only a guard +of four hundred soldiers, and so we would lay in ambuscade, as he called +it, and kill the lot and scoop the things. He said we must slick up +our swords and guns, and get ready. He never could go after even a +turnip-cart but he must have the swords and guns all scoured up for it, +though they was only lath and broomsticks, and you might scour at them +till you rotted, and then they warn't worth a mouthful of ashes more +than what they was before. I didn't believe we could lick such a crowd +of Spaniards and A-rabs, but I wanted to see the camels and elephants, +so I was on hand next day, Saturday, in the ambuscade; and when we got +the word we rushed out of the woods and down the hill. But there warn't +no Spaniards and A-rabs, and there warn't no camels nor no elephants. + It warn't anything but a Sunday-school picnic, and only a primer-class +at that. We busted it up, and chased the children up the hollow; but we +never got anything but some doughnuts and jam, though Ben Rogers got +a rag doll, and Jo Harper got a hymn-book and a tract; and then the +teacher charged in, and made us drop everything and cut. + + I didn't see no di'monds, and I told Tom Sawyer so. He said there was +loads of them there, anyway; and he said there was A-rabs there, too, +and elephants and things. I said, why couldn't we see them, then? He +said if I warn't so ignorant, but had read a book called Don Quixote, I +would know without asking. He said it was all done by enchantment. He +said there was hundreds of soldiers there, and elephants and treasure, +and so on, but we had enemies which he called magicians; and they had +turned the whole thing into an infant Sunday-school, just out of spite. + I said, all right; then the thing for us to do was to go for the +magicians. Tom Sawyer said I was a numskull. + +"Why," said he, "a magician could call up a lot of genies, and they +would hash you up like nothing before you could say Jack Robinson. They +are as tall as a tree and as big around as a church." + +"Well," I says, "s'pose we got some genies to help _us_--can't we lick +the other crowd then?" + +"How you going to get them?" + +"I don't know. How do _they_ get them?" + +"Why, they rub an old tin lamp or an iron ring, and then the genies +come tearing in, with the thunder and lightning a-ripping around and the +smoke a-rolling, and everything they're told to do they up and do it. + They don't think nothing of pulling a shot-tower up by the roots, and +belting a Sunday-school superintendent over the head with it--or any +other man." + +"Who makes them tear around so?" + +"Why, whoever rubs the lamp or the ring. They belong to whoever rubs +the lamp or the ring, and they've got to do whatever he says. If he +tells them to build a palace forty miles long out of di'monds, and fill +it full of chewing-gum, or whatever you want, and fetch an emperor's +daughter from China for you to marry, they've got to do it--and they've +got to do it before sun-up next morning, too. And more: they've got +to waltz that palace around over the country wherever you want it, you +understand." + +"Well," says I, "I think they are a pack of flat-heads for not keeping +the palace themselves 'stead of fooling them away like that. And what's +more--if I was one of them I would see a man in Jericho before I would +drop my business and come to him for the rubbing of an old tin lamp." + +"How you talk, Huck Finn. Why, you'd _have_ to come when he rubbed it, +whether you wanted to or not." + +"What! and I as high as a tree and as big as a church? All right, then; +I _would_ come; but I lay I'd make that man climb the highest tree there +was in the country." + +"Shucks, it ain't no use to talk to you, Huck Finn. You don't seem to +know anything, somehow--perfect saphead." + +I thought all this over for two or three days, and then I reckoned I +would see if there was anything in it. I got an old tin lamp and an +iron ring, and went out in the woods and rubbed and rubbed till I sweat +like an Injun, calculating to build a palace and sell it; but it warn't +no use, none of the genies come. So then I judged that all that stuff +was only just one of Tom Sawyer's lies. I reckoned he believed in the +A-rabs and the elephants, but as for me I think different. It had all +the marks of a Sunday-school. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +WELL, three or four months run along, and it was well into the winter +now. I had been to school most all the time and could spell and read and +write just a little, and could say the multiplication table up to six +times seven is thirty-five, and I don't reckon I could ever get any +further than that if I was to live forever. I don't take no stock in +mathematics, anyway. + +At first I hated the school, but by and by I got so I could stand it. +Whenever I got uncommon tired I played hookey, and the hiding I got next +day done me good and cheered me up. So the longer I went to school the +easier it got to be. I was getting sort of used to the widow's ways, +too, and they warn't so raspy on me. Living in a house and sleeping in +a bed pulled on me pretty tight mostly, but before the cold weather I +used to slide out and sleep in the woods sometimes, and so that was a +rest to me. I liked the old ways best, but I was getting so I liked the +new ones, too, a little bit. The widow said I was coming along slow but +sure, and doing very satisfactory. She said she warn't ashamed of me. + +One morning I happened to turn over the salt-cellar at breakfast. + I reached for some of it as quick as I could to throw over my left +shoulder and keep off the bad luck, but Miss Watson was in ahead of me, +and crossed me off. She says, "Take your hands away, Huckleberry; what +a mess you are always making!" The widow put in a good word for me, but +that warn't going to keep off the bad luck, I knowed that well enough. + I started out, after breakfast, feeling worried and shaky, and +wondering where it was going to fall on me, and what it was going to be. + There is ways to keep off some kinds of bad luck, but this wasn't one +of them kind; so I never tried to do anything, but just poked along +low-spirited and on the watch-out. + +I went down to the front garden and clumb over the stile where you go +through the high board fence. There was an inch of new snow on the +ground, and I seen somebody's tracks. They had come up from the quarry +and stood around the stile a while, and then went on around the garden +fence. It was funny they hadn't come in, after standing around so. I +couldn't make it out. It was very curious, somehow. I was going to +follow around, but I stooped down to look at the tracks first. I didn't +notice anything at first, but next I did. There was a cross in the left +boot-heel made with big nails, to keep off the devil. + +I was up in a second and shinning down the hill. I looked over my +shoulder every now and then, but I didn't see nobody. I was at Judge +Thatcher's as quick as I could get there. He said: + +"Why, my boy, you are all out of breath. Did you come for your +interest?" + +"No, sir," I says; "is there some for me?" + +"Oh, yes, a half-yearly is in last night--over a hundred and fifty +dollars. Quite a fortune for you. You had better let me invest it +along with your six thousand, because if you take it you'll spend it." + +"No, sir," I says, "I don't want to spend it. I don't want it at +all--nor the six thousand, nuther. I want you to take it; I want to give +it to you--the six thousand and all." + +He looked surprised. He couldn't seem to make it out. He says: + +"Why, what can you mean, my boy?" + +I says, "Don't you ask me no questions about it, please. You'll take +it--won't you?" + +He says: + +"Well, I'm puzzled. Is something the matter?" + +"Please take it," says I, "and don't ask me nothing--then I won't have to +tell no lies." + +He studied a while, and then he says: + +"Oho-o! I think I see. You want to _sell_ all your property to me--not +give it. That's the correct idea." + +Then he wrote something on a paper and read it over, and says: + +"There; you see it says 'for a consideration.' That means I have bought +it of you and paid you for it. Here's a dollar for you. Now you sign +it." + +So I signed it, and left. + +Miss Watson's nigger, Jim, had a hair-ball as big as your fist, which +had been took out of the fourth stomach of an ox, and he used to do +magic with it. He said there was a spirit inside of it, and it knowed +everything. So I went to him that night and told him pap was here +again, for I found his tracks in the snow. What I wanted to know was, +what he was going to do, and was he going to stay? Jim got out his +hair-ball and said something over it, and then he held it up and dropped +it on the floor. It fell pretty solid, and only rolled about an inch. + Jim tried it again, and then another time, and it acted just the same. + Jim got down on his knees, and put his ear against it and listened. + But it warn't no use; he said it wouldn't talk. He said sometimes it +wouldn't talk without money. I told him I had an old slick counterfeit +quarter that warn't no good because the brass showed through the silver +a little, and it wouldn't pass nohow, even if the brass didn't show, +because it was so slick it felt greasy, and so that would tell on it +every time. (I reckoned I wouldn't say nothing about the dollar I got +from the judge.) I said it was pretty bad money, but maybe the hair-ball +would take it, because maybe it wouldn't know the difference. Jim smelt +it and bit it and rubbed it, and said he would manage so the hair-ball +would think it was good. He said he would split open a raw Irish potato +and stick the quarter in between and keep it there all night, and next +morning you couldn't see no brass, and it wouldn't feel greasy no more, +and so anybody in town would take it in a minute, let alone a hair-ball. + Well, I knowed a potato would do that before, but I had forgot it. + +Jim put the quarter under the hair-ball, and got down and listened +again. This time he said the hair-ball was all right. He said it +would tell my whole fortune if I wanted it to. I says, go on. So the +hair-ball talked to Jim, and Jim told it to me. He says: + +"Yo' ole father doan' know yit what he's a-gwyne to do. Sometimes he +spec he'll go 'way, en den agin he spec he'll stay. De bes' way is to +res' easy en let de ole man take his own way. Dey's two angels hoverin' +roun' 'bout him. One uv 'em is white en shiny, en t'other one is black. +De white one gits him to go right a little while, den de black one sail +in en bust it all up. A body can't tell yit which one gwyne to fetch +him at de las'. But you is all right. You gwyne to have considable +trouble in yo' life, en considable joy. Sometimes you gwyne to git +hurt, en sometimes you gwyne to git sick; but every time you's gwyne +to git well agin. Dey's two gals flyin' 'bout you in yo' life. One +uv 'em's light en t'other one is dark. One is rich en t'other is po'. + You's gwyne to marry de po' one fust en de rich one by en by. You +wants to keep 'way fum de water as much as you kin, en don't run no +resk, 'kase it's down in de bills dat you's gwyne to git hung." + +When I lit my candle and went up to my room that night there sat pap his +own self! + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +I had shut the door to. Then I turned around and there he was. I used +to be scared of him all the time, he tanned me so much. I reckoned I +was scared now, too; but in a minute I see I was mistaken--that is, after +the first jolt, as you may say, when my breath sort of hitched, he being +so unexpected; but right away after I see I warn't scared of him worth +bothring about. + +He was most fifty, and he looked it. His hair was long and tangled and +greasy, and hung down, and you could see his eyes shining through +like he was behind vines. It was all black, no gray; so was his long, +mixed-up whiskers. There warn't no color in his face, where his face +showed; it was white; not like another man's white, but a white to make +a body sick, a white to make a body's flesh crawl--a tree-toad white, a +fish-belly white. As for his clothes--just rags, that was all. He had +one ankle resting on t'other knee; the boot on that foot was busted, and +two of his toes stuck through, and he worked them now and then. His hat +was laying on the floor--an old black slouch with the top caved in, like +a lid. + +I stood a-looking at him; he set there a-looking at me, with his chair +tilted back a little. I set the candle down. I noticed the window was +up; so he had clumb in by the shed. He kept a-looking me all over. By +and by he says: + +"Starchy clothes--very. You think you're a good deal of a big-bug, +_don't_ you?" + +"Maybe I am, maybe I ain't," I says. + +"Don't you give me none o' your lip," says he. "You've put on +considerable many frills since I been away. I'll take you down a peg +before I get done with you. You're educated, too, they say--can read and +write. You think you're better'n your father, now, don't you, because +he can't? _I'll_ take it out of you. Who told you you might meddle +with such hifalut'n foolishness, hey?--who told you you could?" + +"The widow. She told me." + +"The widow, hey?--and who told the widow she could put in her shovel +about a thing that ain't none of her business?" + +"Nobody never told her." + +"Well, I'll learn her how to meddle. And looky here--you drop that +school, you hear? I'll learn people to bring up a boy to put on airs +over his own father and let on to be better'n what _he_ is. You lemme +catch you fooling around that school again, you hear? Your mother +couldn't read, and she couldn't write, nuther, before she died. None +of the family couldn't before _they_ died. I can't; and here you're +a-swelling yourself up like this. I ain't the man to stand it--you hear? +Say, lemme hear you read." + +I took up a book and begun something about General Washington and the +wars. When I'd read about a half a minute, he fetched the book a whack +with his hand and knocked it across the house. He says: + +"It's so. You can do it. I had my doubts when you told me. Now looky +here; you stop that putting on frills. I won't have it. I'll lay for +you, my smarty; and if I catch you about that school I'll tan you good. +First you know you'll get religion, too. I never see such a son." + +He took up a little blue and yaller picture of some cows and a boy, and +says: + +"What's this?" + +"It's something they give me for learning my lessons good." + +He tore it up, and says: + +"I'll give you something better--I'll give you a cowhide." + +He set there a-mumbling and a-growling a minute, and then he says: + +"_Ain't_ you a sweet-scented dandy, though? A bed; and bedclothes; and +a look'n'-glass; and a piece of carpet on the floor--and your own father +got to sleep with the hogs in the tanyard. I never see such a son. I +bet I'll take some o' these frills out o' you before I'm done with you. +Why, there ain't no end to your airs--they say you're rich. Hey?--how's +that?" + +"They lie--that's how." + +"Looky here--mind how you talk to me; I'm a-standing about all I can +stand now--so don't gimme no sass. I've been in town two days, and I +hain't heard nothing but about you bein' rich. I heard about it +away down the river, too. That's why I come. You git me that money +to-morrow--I want it." + +"I hain't got no money." + +"It's a lie. Judge Thatcher's got it. You git it. I want it." + +"I hain't got no money, I tell you. You ask Judge Thatcher; he'll tell +you the same." + +"All right. I'll ask him; and I'll make him pungle, too, or I'll know +the reason why. Say, how much you got in your pocket? I want it." + +"I hain't got only a dollar, and I want that to--" + +"It don't make no difference what you want it for--you just shell it +out." + +He took it and bit it to see if it was good, and then he said he was +going down town to get some whisky; said he hadn't had a drink all day. +When he had got out on the shed he put his head in again, and cussed +me for putting on frills and trying to be better than him; and when I +reckoned he was gone he come back and put his head in again, and told me +to mind about that school, because he was going to lay for me and lick +me if I didn't drop that. + +Next day he was drunk, and he went to Judge Thatcher's and bullyragged +him, and tried to make him give up the money; but he couldn't, and then +he swore he'd make the law force him. + +The judge and the widow went to law to get the court to take me away +from him and let one of them be my guardian; but it was a new judge that +had just come, and he didn't know the old man; so he said courts mustn't +interfere and separate families if they could help it; said he'd druther +not take a child away from its father. So Judge Thatcher and the widow +had to quit on the business. + +That pleased the old man till he couldn't rest. He said he'd cowhide +me till I was black and blue if I didn't raise some money for him. I +borrowed three dollars from Judge Thatcher, and pap took it and got +drunk, and went a-blowing around and cussing and whooping and carrying +on; and he kept it up all over town, with a tin pan, till most midnight; +then they jailed him, and next day they had him before court, and jailed +him again for a week. But he said _he_ was satisfied; said he was boss +of his son, and he'd make it warm for _him_. + +When he got out the new judge said he was a-going to make a man of him. +So he took him to his own house, and dressed him up clean and nice, and +had him to breakfast and dinner and supper with the family, and was just +old pie to him, so to speak. And after supper he talked to him about +temperance and such things till the old man cried, and said he'd been +a fool, and fooled away his life; but now he was a-going to turn over +a new leaf and be a man nobody wouldn't be ashamed of, and he hoped the +judge would help him and not look down on him. The judge said he could +hug him for them words; so he cried, and his wife she cried again; pap +said he'd been a man that had always been misunderstood before, and the +judge said he believed it. The old man said that what a man wanted +that was down was sympathy, and the judge said it was so; so they cried +again. And when it was bedtime the old man rose up and held out his +hand, and says: + +"Look at it, gentlemen and ladies all; take a-hold of it; shake it. +There's a hand that was the hand of a hog; but it ain't so no more; it's +the hand of a man that's started in on a new life, and'll die before +he'll go back. You mark them words--don't forget I said them. It's a +clean hand now; shake it--don't be afeard." + +So they shook it, one after the other, all around, and cried. The +judge's wife she kissed it. Then the old man he signed a pledge--made +his mark. The judge said it was the holiest time on record, or something +like that. Then they tucked the old man into a beautiful room, which was +the spare room, and in the night some time he got powerful thirsty and +clumb out on to the porch-roof and slid down a stanchion and traded his +new coat for a jug of forty-rod, and clumb back again and had a good old +time; and towards daylight he crawled out again, drunk as a fiddler, and +rolled off the porch and broke his left arm in two places, and was most +froze to death when somebody found him after sun-up. And when they come +to look at that spare room they had to take soundings before they could +navigate it. + +The judge he felt kind of sore. He said he reckoned a body could reform +the old man with a shotgun, maybe, but he didn't know no other way. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +WELL, pretty soon the old man was up and around again, and then he went +for Judge Thatcher in the courts to make him give up that money, and he +went for me, too, for not stopping school. He catched me a couple of +times and thrashed me, but I went to school just the same, and dodged +him or outrun him most of the time. I didn't want to go to school much +before, but I reckoned I'd go now to spite pap. That law trial was a +slow business--appeared like they warn't ever going to get started on it; +so every now and then I'd borrow two or three dollars off of the judge +for him, to keep from getting a cowhiding. Every time he got money he +got drunk; and every time he got drunk he raised Cain around town; and +every time he raised Cain he got jailed. He was just suited--this kind +of thing was right in his line. + +He got to hanging around the widow's too much and so she told him at +last that if he didn't quit using around there she would make trouble +for him. Well, _wasn't_ he mad? He said he would show who was Huck +Finn's boss. So he watched out for me one day in the spring, and +catched me, and took me up the river about three mile in a skiff, and +crossed over to the Illinois shore where it was woody and there warn't +no houses but an old log hut in a place where the timber was so thick +you couldn't find it if you didn't know where it was. + +He kept me with him all the time, and I never got a chance to run off. +We lived in that old cabin, and he always locked the door and put the +key under his head nights. He had a gun which he had stole, I reckon, +and we fished and hunted, and that was what we lived on. Every little +while he locked me in and went down to the store, three miles, to the +ferry, and traded fish and game for whisky, and fetched it home and got +drunk and had a good time, and licked me. The widow she found out where +I was by and by, and she sent a man over to try to get hold of me; but +pap drove him off with the gun, and it warn't long after that till I was +used to being where I was, and liked it--all but the cowhide part. + +It was kind of lazy and jolly, laying off comfortable all day, smoking +and fishing, and no books nor study. Two months or more run along, and +my clothes got to be all rags and dirt, and I didn't see how I'd ever +got to like it so well at the widow's, where you had to wash, and eat on +a plate, and comb up, and go to bed and get up regular, and be forever +bothering over a book, and have old Miss Watson pecking at you all the +time. I didn't want to go back no more. I had stopped cussing, because +the widow didn't like it; but now I took to it again because pap hadn't +no objections. It was pretty good times up in the woods there, take it +all around. + +But by and by pap got too handy with his hick'ry, and I couldn't stand +it. I was all over welts. He got to going away so much, too, and +locking me in. Once he locked me in and was gone three days. It was +dreadful lonesome. I judged he had got drownded, and I wasn't ever +going to get out any more. I was scared. I made up my mind I would fix +up some way to leave there. I had tried to get out of that cabin many +a time, but I couldn't find no way. There warn't a window to it big +enough for a dog to get through. I couldn't get up the chimbly; it +was too narrow. The door was thick, solid oak slabs. Pap was pretty +careful not to leave a knife or anything in the cabin when he was away; +I reckon I had hunted the place over as much as a hundred times; well, I +was most all the time at it, because it was about the only way to put in +the time. But this time I found something at last; I found an old rusty +wood-saw without any handle; it was laid in between a rafter and the +clapboards of the roof. I greased it up and went to work. There was an +old horse-blanket nailed against the logs at the far end of the cabin +behind the table, to keep the wind from blowing through the chinks and +putting the candle out. I got under the table and raised the blanket, +and went to work to saw a section of the big bottom log out--big enough +to let me through. Well, it was a good long job, but I was getting +towards the end of it when I heard pap's gun in the woods. I got rid of +the signs of my work, and dropped the blanket and hid my saw, and pretty +soon pap come in. + +Pap warn't in a good humor--so he was his natural self. He said he was +down town, and everything was going wrong. His lawyer said he reckoned +he would win his lawsuit and get the money if they ever got started on +the trial; but then there was ways to put it off a long time, and Judge +Thatcher knowed how to do it. And he said people allowed there'd be +another trial to get me away from him and give me to the widow for my +guardian, and they guessed it would win this time. This shook me up +considerable, because I didn't want to go back to the widow's any more +and be so cramped up and sivilized, as they called it. Then the old man +got to cussing, and cussed everything and everybody he could think of, +and then cussed them all over again to make sure he hadn't skipped any, +and after that he polished off with a kind of a general cuss all round, +including a considerable parcel of people which he didn't know the names +of, and so called them what's-his-name when he got to them, and went +right along with his cussing. + +He said he would like to see the widow get me. He said he would watch +out, and if they tried to come any such game on him he knowed of a place +six or seven mile off to stow me in, where they might hunt till they +dropped and they couldn't find me. That made me pretty uneasy again, +but only for a minute; I reckoned I wouldn't stay on hand till he got +that chance. + +The old man made me go to the skiff and fetch the things he had +got. There was a fifty-pound sack of corn meal, and a side of bacon, +ammunition, and a four-gallon jug of whisky, and an old book and two +newspapers for wadding, besides some tow. I toted up a load, and went +back and set down on the bow of the skiff to rest. I thought it all +over, and I reckoned I would walk off with the gun and some lines, and +take to the woods when I run away. I guessed I wouldn't stay in one +place, but just tramp right across the country, mostly night times, and +hunt and fish to keep alive, and so get so far away that the old man nor +the widow couldn't ever find me any more. I judged I would saw out and +leave that night if pap got drunk enough, and I reckoned he would. I +got so full of it I didn't notice how long I was staying till the old +man hollered and asked me whether I was asleep or drownded. + +I got the things all up to the cabin, and then it was about dark. While +I was cooking supper the old man took a swig or two and got sort of +warmed up, and went to ripping again. He had been drunk over in town, +and laid in the gutter all night, and he was a sight to look at. A body +would a thought he was Adam--he was just all mud. Whenever his liquor +begun to work he most always went for the govment, this time he says: + +"Call this a govment! why, just look at it and see what it's like. +Here's the law a-standing ready to take a man's son away from him--a +man's own son, which he has had all the trouble and all the anxiety +and all the expense of raising. Yes, just as that man has got that +son raised at last, and ready to go to work and begin to do suthin' for +_him_ and give him a rest, the law up and goes for him. And they call +_that_ govment! That ain't all, nuther. The law backs that old Judge +Thatcher up and helps him to keep me out o' my property. Here's what +the law does: The law takes a man worth six thousand dollars and +up'ards, and jams him into an old trap of a cabin like this, and lets +him go round in clothes that ain't fitten for a hog. They call that +govment! A man can't get his rights in a govment like this. Sometimes +I've a mighty notion to just leave the country for good and all. Yes, +and I _told_ 'em so; I told old Thatcher so to his face. Lots of 'em +heard me, and can tell what I said. Says I, for two cents I'd leave the +blamed country and never come a-near it agin. Them's the very words. I +says look at my hat--if you call it a hat--but the lid raises up and the +rest of it goes down till it's below my chin, and then it ain't rightly +a hat at all, but more like my head was shoved up through a jint o' +stove-pipe. Look at it, says I--such a hat for me to wear--one of the +wealthiest men in this town if I could git my rights. + +"Oh, yes, this is a wonderful govment, wonderful. Why, looky here. +There was a free nigger there from Ohio--a mulatter, most as white as +a white man. He had the whitest shirt on you ever see, too, and the +shiniest hat; and there ain't a man in that town that's got as fine +clothes as what he had; and he had a gold watch and chain, and a +silver-headed cane--the awfulest old gray-headed nabob in the State. And +what do you think? They said he was a p'fessor in a college, and could +talk all kinds of languages, and knowed everything. And that ain't the +wust. They said he could _vote_ when he was at home. Well, that let me +out. Thinks I, what is the country a-coming to? It was 'lection day, +and I was just about to go and vote myself if I warn't too drunk to get +there; but when they told me there was a State in this country where +they'd let that nigger vote, I drawed out. I says I'll never vote agin. + Them's the very words I said; they all heard me; and the country may +rot for all me--I'll never vote agin as long as I live. And to see the +cool way of that nigger--why, he wouldn't a give me the road if I hadn't +shoved him out o' the way. I says to the people, why ain't this nigger +put up at auction and sold?--that's what I want to know. And what do you +reckon they said? Why, they said he couldn't be sold till he'd been in +the State six months, and he hadn't been there that long yet. There, +now--that's a specimen. They call that a govment that can't sell a free +nigger till he's been in the State six months. Here's a govment that +calls itself a govment, and lets on to be a govment, and thinks it is a +govment, and yet's got to set stock-still for six whole months before +it can take a hold of a prowling, thieving, infernal, white-shirted free +nigger, and--" + +Pap was agoing on so he never noticed where his old limber legs was +taking him to, so he went head over heels over the tub of salt pork and +barked both shins, and the rest of his speech was all the hottest kind +of language--mostly hove at the nigger and the govment, though he give +the tub some, too, all along, here and there. He hopped around the +cabin considerable, first on one leg and then on the other, holding +first one shin and then the other one, and at last he let out with his +left foot all of a sudden and fetched the tub a rattling kick. But it +warn't good judgment, because that was the boot that had a couple of his +toes leaking out of the front end of it; so now he raised a howl that +fairly made a body's hair raise, and down he went in the dirt, and +rolled there, and held his toes; and the cussing he done then laid over +anything he had ever done previous. He said so his own self afterwards. + He had heard old Sowberry Hagan in his best days, and he said it laid +over him, too; but I reckon that was sort of piling it on, maybe. + +After supper pap took the jug, and said he had enough whisky there +for two drunks and one delirium tremens. That was always his word. I +judged he would be blind drunk in about an hour, and then I would steal +the key, or saw myself out, one or t'other. He drank and drank, and +tumbled down on his blankets by and by; but luck didn't run my way. + He didn't go sound asleep, but was uneasy. He groaned and moaned and +thrashed around this way and that for a long time. At last I got so +sleepy I couldn't keep my eyes open all I could do, and so before I +knowed what I was about I was sound asleep, and the candle burning. + +I don't know how long I was asleep, but all of a sudden there was an +awful scream and I was up. There was pap looking wild, and skipping +around every which way and yelling about snakes. He said they was +crawling up his legs; and then he would give a jump and scream, and say +one had bit him on the cheek--but I couldn't see no snakes. He started +and run round and round the cabin, hollering "Take him off! take him +off! he's biting me on the neck!" I never see a man look so wild in the +eyes. Pretty soon he was all fagged out, and fell down panting; then he +rolled over and over wonderful fast, kicking things every which way, +and striking and grabbing at the air with his hands, and screaming and +saying there was devils a-hold of him. He wore out by and by, and laid +still a while, moaning. Then he laid stiller, and didn't make a sound. + I could hear the owls and the wolves away off in the woods, and it +seemed terrible still. He was laying over by the corner. By and by he +raised up part way and listened, with his head to one side. He says, +very low: + +"Tramp--tramp--tramp; that's the dead; tramp--tramp--tramp; they're coming +after me; but I won't go. Oh, they're here! don't touch me--don't! hands +off--they're cold; let go. Oh, let a poor devil alone!" + +Then he went down on all fours and crawled off, begging them to let him +alone, and he rolled himself up in his blanket and wallowed in under the +old pine table, still a-begging; and then he went to crying. I could +hear him through the blanket. + +By and by he rolled out and jumped up on his feet looking wild, and he +see me and went for me. He chased me round and round the place with a +clasp-knife, calling me the Angel of Death, and saying he would kill me, +and then I couldn't come for him no more. I begged, and told him I +was only Huck; but he laughed _such_ a screechy laugh, and roared and +cussed, and kept on chasing me up. Once when I turned short and +dodged under his arm he made a grab and got me by the jacket between my +shoulders, and I thought I was gone; but I slid out of the jacket quick +as lightning, and saved myself. Pretty soon he was all tired out, and +dropped down with his back against the door, and said he would rest a +minute and then kill me. He put his knife under him, and said he would +sleep and get strong, and then he would see who was who. + +So he dozed off pretty soon. By and by I got the old split-bottom chair +and clumb up as easy as I could, not to make any noise, and got down the +gun. I slipped the ramrod down it to make sure it was loaded, then I +laid it across the turnip barrel, pointing towards pap, and set down +behind it to wait for him to stir. And how slow and still the time did +drag along. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +"GIT up! What you 'bout?" + +I opened my eyes and looked around, trying to make out where I was. It +was after sun-up, and I had been sound asleep. Pap was standing over me +looking sour and sick, too. He says: + +"What you doin' with this gun?" + +I judged he didn't know nothing about what he had been doing, so I says: + +"Somebody tried to get in, so I was laying for him." + +"Why didn't you roust me out?" + +"Well, I tried to, but I couldn't; I couldn't budge you." + +"Well, all right. Don't stand there palavering all day, but out with +you and see if there's a fish on the lines for breakfast. I'll be along +in a minute." + +He unlocked the door, and I cleared out up the river-bank. I noticed +some pieces of limbs and such things floating down, and a sprinkling of +bark; so I knowed the river had begun to rise. I reckoned I would have +great times now if I was over at the town. The June rise used to be +always luck for me; because as soon as that rise begins here comes +cordwood floating down, and pieces of log rafts--sometimes a dozen logs +together; so all you have to do is to catch them and sell them to the +wood-yards and the sawmill. + +I went along up the bank with one eye out for pap and t'other one out +for what the rise might fetch along. Well, all at once here comes a +canoe; just a beauty, too, about thirteen or fourteen foot long, riding +high like a duck. I shot head-first off of the bank like a frog, +clothes and all on, and struck out for the canoe. I just expected +there'd be somebody laying down in it, because people often done that +to fool folks, and when a chap had pulled a skiff out most to it they'd +raise up and laugh at him. But it warn't so this time. It was a +drift-canoe sure enough, and I clumb in and paddled her ashore. Thinks +I, the old man will be glad when he sees this--she's worth ten dollars. + But when I got to shore pap wasn't in sight yet, and as I was running +her into a little creek like a gully, all hung over with vines and +willows, I struck another idea: I judged I'd hide her good, and then, +'stead of taking to the woods when I run off, I'd go down the river +about fifty mile and camp in one place for good, and not have such a +rough time tramping on foot. + +It was pretty close to the shanty, and I thought I heard the old man +coming all the time; but I got her hid; and then I out and looked around +a bunch of willows, and there was the old man down the path a piece just +drawing a bead on a bird with his gun. So he hadn't seen anything. + +When he got along I was hard at it taking up a "trot" line. He abused +me a little for being so slow; but I told him I fell in the river, and +that was what made me so long. I knowed he would see I was wet, and +then he would be asking questions. We got five catfish off the lines +and went home. + +While we laid off after breakfast to sleep up, both of us being about +wore out, I got to thinking that if I could fix up some way to keep pap +and the widow from trying to follow me, it would be a certainer thing +than trusting to luck to get far enough off before they missed me; you +see, all kinds of things might happen. Well, I didn't see no way for a +while, but by and by pap raised up a minute to drink another barrel of +water, and he says: + +"Another time a man comes a-prowling round here you roust me out, you +hear? That man warn't here for no good. I'd a shot him. Next time you +roust me out, you hear?" + +Then he dropped down and went to sleep again; but what he had been +saying give me the very idea I wanted. I says to myself, I can fix it +now so nobody won't think of following me. + +About twelve o'clock we turned out and went along up the bank. The +river was coming up pretty fast, and lots of driftwood going by on the +rise. By and by along comes part of a log raft--nine logs fast together. + We went out with the skiff and towed it ashore. Then we had dinner. +Anybody but pap would a waited and seen the day through, so as to catch +more stuff; but that warn't pap's style. Nine logs was enough for one +time; he must shove right over to town and sell. So he locked me in and +took the skiff, and started off towing the raft about half-past three. + I judged he wouldn't come back that night. I waited till I reckoned he +had got a good start; then I out with my saw, and went to work on that +log again. Before he was t'other side of the river I was out of the +hole; him and his raft was just a speck on the water away off yonder. + +I took the sack of corn meal and took it to where the canoe was hid, and +shoved the vines and branches apart and put it in; then I done the same +with the side of bacon; then the whisky-jug. I took all the coffee and +sugar there was, and all the ammunition; I took the wadding; I took the +bucket and gourd; I took a dipper and a tin cup, and my old saw and two +blankets, and the skillet and the coffee-pot. I took fish-lines and +matches and other things--everything that was worth a cent. I cleaned +out the place. I wanted an axe, but there wasn't any, only the one out +at the woodpile, and I knowed why I was going to leave that. I fetched +out the gun, and now I was done. + +I had wore the ground a good deal crawling out of the hole and dragging +out so many things. So I fixed that as good as I could from the outside +by scattering dust on the place, which covered up the smoothness and the +sawdust. Then I fixed the piece of log back into its place, and put two +rocks under it and one against it to hold it there, for it was bent up +at that place and didn't quite touch ground. If you stood four or five +foot away and didn't know it was sawed, you wouldn't never notice +it; and besides, this was the back of the cabin, and it warn't likely +anybody would go fooling around there. + +It was all grass clear to the canoe, so I hadn't left a track. I +followed around to see. I stood on the bank and looked out over the +river. All safe. So I took the gun and went up a piece into the woods, +and was hunting around for some birds when I see a wild pig; hogs soon +went wild in them bottoms after they had got away from the prairie +farms. I shot this fellow and took him into camp. + +I took the axe and smashed in the door. I beat it and hacked it +considerable a-doing it. I fetched the pig in, and took him back nearly +to the table and hacked into his throat with the axe, and laid him down +on the ground to bleed; I say ground because it was ground--hard packed, +and no boards. Well, next I took an old sack and put a lot of big rocks +in it--all I could drag--and I started it from the pig, and dragged it to +the door and through the woods down to the river and dumped it in, and +down it sunk, out of sight. You could easy see that something had been +dragged over the ground. I did wish Tom Sawyer was there; I knowed he +would take an interest in this kind of business, and throw in the fancy +touches. Nobody could spread himself like Tom Sawyer in such a thing as +that. + +Well, last I pulled out some of my hair, and blooded the axe good, and +stuck it on the back side, and slung the axe in the corner. Then I +took up the pig and held him to my breast with my jacket (so he couldn't +drip) till I got a good piece below the house and then dumped him into +the river. Now I thought of something else. So I went and got the bag +of meal and my old saw out of the canoe, and fetched them to the house. + I took the bag to where it used to stand, and ripped a hole in the +bottom of it with the saw, for there warn't no knives and forks on the +place--pap done everything with his clasp-knife about the cooking. Then +I carried the sack about a hundred yards across the grass and through +the willows east of the house, to a shallow lake that was five mile wide +and full of rushes--and ducks too, you might say, in the season. There +was a slough or a creek leading out of it on the other side that went +miles away, I don't know where, but it didn't go to the river. The meal +sifted out and made a little track all the way to the lake. I dropped +pap's whetstone there too, so as to look like it had been done by +accident. Then I tied up the rip in the meal sack with a string, so it +wouldn't leak no more, and took it and my saw to the canoe again. + +It was about dark now; so I dropped the canoe down the river under some +willows that hung over the bank, and waited for the moon to rise. I +made fast to a willow; then I took a bite to eat, and by and by laid +down in the canoe to smoke a pipe and lay out a plan. I says to myself, +they'll follow the track of that sackful of rocks to the shore and then +drag the river for me. And they'll follow that meal track to the lake +and go browsing down the creek that leads out of it to find the robbers +that killed me and took the things. They won't ever hunt the river for +anything but my dead carcass. They'll soon get tired of that, and won't +bother no more about me. All right; I can stop anywhere I want to. +Jackson's Island is good enough for me; I know that island pretty well, +and nobody ever comes there. And then I can paddle over to town nights, +and slink around and pick up things I want. Jackson's Island's the +place. + +I was pretty tired, and the first thing I knowed I was asleep. When +I woke up I didn't know where I was for a minute. I set up and looked +around, a little scared. Then I remembered. The river looked miles and +miles across. The moon was so bright I could a counted the drift logs +that went a-slipping along, black and still, hundreds of yards out from +shore. Everything was dead quiet, and it looked late, and _smelt_ late. +You know what I mean--I don't know the words to put it in. + +I took a good gap and a stretch, and was just going to unhitch and start +when I heard a sound away over the water. I listened. Pretty soon I +made it out. It was that dull kind of a regular sound that comes from +oars working in rowlocks when it's a still night. I peeped out through +the willow branches, and there it was--a skiff, away across the water. + I couldn't tell how many was in it. It kept a-coming, and when it was +abreast of me I see there warn't but one man in it. Think's I, maybe +it's pap, though I warn't expecting him. He dropped below me with the +current, and by and by he came a-swinging up shore in the easy water, +and he went by so close I could a reached out the gun and touched him. + Well, it _was_ pap, sure enough--and sober, too, by the way he laid his +oars. + +I didn't lose no time. The next minute I was a-spinning down stream +soft but quick in the shade of the bank. I made two mile and a half, +and then struck out a quarter of a mile or more towards the middle of +the river, because pretty soon I would be passing the ferry landing, and +people might see me and hail me. I got out amongst the driftwood, and +then laid down in the bottom of the canoe and let her float. + + I laid there, and had a good rest and a smoke out of my pipe, looking +away into the sky; not a cloud in it. The sky looks ever so deep when +you lay down on your back in the moonshine; I never knowed it before. + And how far a body can hear on the water such nights! I heard people +talking at the ferry landing. I heard what they said, too--every word +of it. One man said it was getting towards the long days and the short +nights now. T'other one said _this_ warn't one of the short ones, he +reckoned--and then they laughed, and he said it over again, and they +laughed again; then they waked up another fellow and told him, and +laughed, but he didn't laugh; he ripped out something brisk, and said +let him alone. The first fellow said he 'lowed to tell it to his +old woman--she would think it was pretty good; but he said that warn't +nothing to some things he had said in his time. I heard one man say it +was nearly three o'clock, and he hoped daylight wouldn't wait more than +about a week longer. After that the talk got further and further away, +and I couldn't make out the words any more; but I could hear the mumble, +and now and then a laugh, too, but it seemed a long ways off. + +I was away below the ferry now. I rose up, and there was Jackson's +Island, about two mile and a half down stream, heavy timbered and +standing up out of the middle of the river, big and dark and solid, like +a steamboat without any lights. There warn't any signs of the bar at +the head--it was all under water now. + +It didn't take me long to get there. I shot past the head at a ripping +rate, the current was so swift, and then I got into the dead water and +landed on the side towards the Illinois shore. I run the canoe into +a deep dent in the bank that I knowed about; I had to part the willow +branches to get in; and when I made fast nobody could a seen the canoe +from the outside. + +I went up and set down on a log at the head of the island, and looked +out on the big river and the black driftwood and away over to the town, +three mile away, where there was three or four lights twinkling. A +monstrous big lumber-raft was about a mile up stream, coming along down, +with a lantern in the middle of it. I watched it come creeping down, +and when it was most abreast of where I stood I heard a man say, "Stern +oars, there! heave her head to stabboard!" I heard that just as plain +as if the man was by my side. + +There was a little gray in the sky now; so I stepped into the woods, and +laid down for a nap before breakfast. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE sun was up so high when I waked that I judged it was after eight +o'clock. I laid there in the grass and the cool shade thinking about +things, and feeling rested and ruther comfortable and satisfied. I +could see the sun out at one or two holes, but mostly it was big trees +all about, and gloomy in there amongst them. There was freckled places +on the ground where the light sifted down through the leaves, and the +freckled places swapped about a little, showing there was a little +breeze up there. A couple of squirrels set on a limb and jabbered at me +very friendly. + +I was powerful lazy and comfortable--didn't want to get up and cook +breakfast. Well, I was dozing off again when I thinks I hears a deep +sound of "boom!" away up the river. I rouses up, and rests on my elbow +and listens; pretty soon I hears it again. I hopped up, and went and +looked out at a hole in the leaves, and I see a bunch of smoke laying +on the water a long ways up--about abreast the ferry. And there was the +ferryboat full of people floating along down. I knowed what was the +matter now. "Boom!" I see the white smoke squirt out of the ferryboat's +side. You see, they was firing cannon over the water, trying to make my +carcass come to the top. + +I was pretty hungry, but it warn't going to do for me to start a fire, +because they might see the smoke. So I set there and watched the +cannon-smoke and listened to the boom. The river was a mile wide there, +and it always looks pretty on a summer morning--so I was having a good +enough time seeing them hunt for my remainders if I only had a bite to +eat. Well, then I happened to think how they always put quicksilver in +loaves of bread and float them off, because they always go right to the +drownded carcass and stop there. So, says I, I'll keep a lookout, and +if any of them's floating around after me I'll give them a show. I +changed to the Illinois edge of the island to see what luck I could +have, and I warn't disappointed. A big double loaf come along, and I +most got it with a long stick, but my foot slipped and she floated out +further. Of course I was where the current set in the closest to the +shore--I knowed enough for that. But by and by along comes another one, +and this time I won. I took out the plug and shook out the little dab +of quicksilver, and set my teeth in. It was "baker's bread"--what the +quality eat; none of your low-down corn-pone. + +I got a good place amongst the leaves, and set there on a log, munching +the bread and watching the ferry-boat, and very well satisfied. And +then something struck me. I says, now I reckon the widow or the parson +or somebody prayed that this bread would find me, and here it has gone +and done it. So there ain't no doubt but there is something in that +thing--that is, there's something in it when a body like the widow or the +parson prays, but it don't work for me, and I reckon it don't work for +only just the right kind. + +I lit a pipe and had a good long smoke, and went on watching. The +ferryboat was floating with the current, and I allowed I'd have a chance +to see who was aboard when she come along, because she would come in +close, where the bread did. When she'd got pretty well along down +towards me, I put out my pipe and went to where I fished out the bread, +and laid down behind a log on the bank in a little open place. Where +the log forked I could peep through. + +By and by she come along, and she drifted in so close that they could +a run out a plank and walked ashore. Most everybody was on the boat. + Pap, and Judge Thatcher, and Bessie Thatcher, and Jo Harper, and Tom +Sawyer, and his old Aunt Polly, and Sid and Mary, and plenty more. + Everybody was talking about the murder, but the captain broke in and +says: + +"Look sharp, now; the current sets in the closest here, and maybe he's +washed ashore and got tangled amongst the brush at the water's edge. I +hope so, anyway." + +I didn't hope so. They all crowded up and leaned over the rails, nearly +in my face, and kept still, watching with all their might. I could see +them first-rate, but they couldn't see me. Then the captain sung out: + +"Stand away!" and the cannon let off such a blast right before me that +it made me deef with the noise and pretty near blind with the smoke, and +I judged I was gone. If they'd a had some bullets in, I reckon they'd +a got the corpse they was after. Well, I see I warn't hurt, thanks to +goodness. The boat floated on and went out of sight around the shoulder +of the island. I could hear the booming now and then, further and +further off, and by and by, after an hour, I didn't hear it no more. + The island was three mile long. I judged they had got to the foot, and +was giving it up. But they didn't yet a while. They turned around +the foot of the island and started up the channel on the Missouri side, +under steam, and booming once in a while as they went. I crossed over +to that side and watched them. When they got abreast the head of the +island they quit shooting and dropped over to the Missouri shore and +went home to the town. + +I knowed I was all right now. Nobody else would come a-hunting after +me. I got my traps out of the canoe and made me a nice camp in the thick +woods. I made a kind of a tent out of my blankets to put my things +under so the rain couldn't get at them. I catched a catfish and haggled +him open with my saw, and towards sundown I started my camp fire and had +supper. Then I set out a line to catch some fish for breakfast. + +When it was dark I set by my camp fire smoking, and feeling pretty well +satisfied; but by and by it got sort of lonesome, and so I went and set +on the bank and listened to the current swashing along, and counted the +stars and drift logs and rafts that come down, and then went to bed; +there ain't no better way to put in time when you are lonesome; you +can't stay so, you soon get over it. + +And so for three days and nights. No difference--just the same thing. +But the next day I went exploring around down through the island. I was +boss of it; it all belonged to me, so to say, and I wanted to know +all about it; but mainly I wanted to put in the time. I found plenty +strawberries, ripe and prime; and green summer grapes, and green +razberries; and the green blackberries was just beginning to show. They +would all come handy by and by, I judged. + +Well, I went fooling along in the deep woods till I judged I warn't +far from the foot of the island. I had my gun along, but I hadn't shot +nothing; it was for protection; thought I would kill some game nigh +home. About this time I mighty near stepped on a good-sized snake, +and it went sliding off through the grass and flowers, and I after +it, trying to get a shot at it. I clipped along, and all of a sudden I +bounded right on to the ashes of a camp fire that was still smoking. + +My heart jumped up amongst my lungs. I never waited for to look +further, but uncocked my gun and went sneaking back on my tiptoes as +fast as ever I could. Every now and then I stopped a second amongst the +thick leaves and listened, but my breath come so hard I couldn't hear +nothing else. I slunk along another piece further, then listened again; +and so on, and so on. If I see a stump, I took it for a man; if I trod +on a stick and broke it, it made me feel like a person had cut one of my +breaths in two and I only got half, and the short half, too. + +When I got to camp I warn't feeling very brash, there warn't much sand +in my craw; but I says, this ain't no time to be fooling around. So I +got all my traps into my canoe again so as to have them out of sight, +and I put out the fire and scattered the ashes around to look like an +old last year's camp, and then clumb a tree. + +I reckon I was up in the tree two hours; but I didn't see nothing, +I didn't hear nothing--I only _thought_ I heard and seen as much as a +thousand things. Well, I couldn't stay up there forever; so at last I +got down, but I kept in the thick woods and on the lookout all the +time. All I could get to eat was berries and what was left over from +breakfast. + +By the time it was night I was pretty hungry. So when it was good +and dark I slid out from shore before moonrise and paddled over to the +Illinois bank--about a quarter of a mile. I went out in the woods and +cooked a supper, and I had about made up my mind I would stay there +all night when I hear a _plunkety-plunk, plunkety-plunk_, and says +to myself, horses coming; and next I hear people's voices. I got +everything into the canoe as quick as I could, and then went creeping +through the woods to see what I could find out. I hadn't got far when I +hear a man say: + +"We better camp here if we can find a good place; the horses is about +beat out. Let's look around." + +I didn't wait, but shoved out and paddled away easy. I tied up in the +old place, and reckoned I would sleep in the canoe. + +I didn't sleep much. I couldn't, somehow, for thinking. And every time +I waked up I thought somebody had me by the neck. So the sleep didn't +do me no good. By and by I says to myself, I can't live this way; I'm +a-going to find out who it is that's here on the island with me; I'll +find it out or bust. Well, I felt better right off. + +So I took my paddle and slid out from shore just a step or two, and +then let the canoe drop along down amongst the shadows. The moon was +shining, and outside of the shadows it made it most as light as day. + I poked along well on to an hour, everything still as rocks and sound +asleep. Well, by this time I was most down to the foot of the island. A +little ripply, cool breeze begun to blow, and that was as good as saying +the night was about done. I give her a turn with the paddle and brung +her nose to shore; then I got my gun and slipped out and into the edge +of the woods. I sat down there on a log, and looked out through the +leaves. I see the moon go off watch, and the darkness begin to blanket +the river. But in a little while I see a pale streak over the treetops, +and knowed the day was coming. So I took my gun and slipped off towards +where I had run across that camp fire, stopping every minute or two +to listen. But I hadn't no luck somehow; I couldn't seem to find the +place. But by and by, sure enough, I catched a glimpse of fire away +through the trees. I went for it, cautious and slow. By and by I was +close enough to have a look, and there laid a man on the ground. It +most give me the fan-tods. He had a blanket around his head, and his +head was nearly in the fire. I set there behind a clump of bushes, in +about six foot of him, and kept my eyes on him steady. It was getting +gray daylight now. Pretty soon he gapped and stretched himself and hove +off the blanket, and it was Miss Watson's Jim! I bet I was glad to see +him. I says: + +"Hello, Jim!" and skipped out. + +He bounced up and stared at me wild. Then he drops down on his knees, +and puts his hands together and says: + +"Doan' hurt me--don't! I hain't ever done no harm to a ghos'. I alwuz +liked dead people, en done all I could for 'em. You go en git in de +river agin, whah you b'longs, en doan' do nuffn to Ole Jim, 'at 'uz +awluz yo' fren'." + +Well, I warn't long making him understand I warn't dead. I was ever so +glad to see Jim. I warn't lonesome now. I told him I warn't afraid of +_him_ telling the people where I was. I talked along, but he only set +there and looked at me; never said nothing. Then I says: + +"It's good daylight. Le's get breakfast. Make up your camp fire good." + +"What's de use er makin' up de camp fire to cook strawbries en sich +truck? But you got a gun, hain't you? Den we kin git sumfn better den +strawbries." + +"Strawberries and such truck," I says. "Is that what you live on?" + +"I couldn' git nuffn else," he says. + +"Why, how long you been on the island, Jim?" + +"I come heah de night arter you's killed." + +"What, all that time?" + +"Yes--indeedy." + +"And ain't you had nothing but that kind of rubbage to eat?" + +"No, sah--nuffn else." + +"Well, you must be most starved, ain't you?" + +"I reck'n I could eat a hoss. I think I could. How long you ben on de +islan'?" + +"Since the night I got killed." + +"No! W'y, what has you lived on? But you got a gun. Oh, yes, you got +a gun. Dat's good. Now you kill sumfn en I'll make up de fire." + +So we went over to where the canoe was, and while he built a fire in +a grassy open place amongst the trees, I fetched meal and bacon and +coffee, and coffee-pot and frying-pan, and sugar and tin cups, and the +nigger was set back considerable, because he reckoned it was all done +with witchcraft. I catched a good big catfish, too, and Jim cleaned him +with his knife, and fried him. + +When breakfast was ready we lolled on the grass and eat it smoking hot. +Jim laid it in with all his might, for he was most about starved. Then +when we had got pretty well stuffed, we laid off and lazied. By and by +Jim says: + +"But looky here, Huck, who wuz it dat 'uz killed in dat shanty ef it +warn't you?" + +Then I told him the whole thing, and he said it was smart. He said Tom +Sawyer couldn't get up no better plan than what I had. Then I says: + +"How do you come to be here, Jim, and how'd you get here?" + +He looked pretty uneasy, and didn't say nothing for a minute. Then he +says: + +"Maybe I better not tell." + +"Why, Jim?" + +"Well, dey's reasons. But you wouldn' tell on me ef I uz to tell you, +would you, Huck?" + +"Blamed if I would, Jim." + +"Well, I b'lieve you, Huck. I--_I run off_." + +"Jim!" + +"But mind, you said you wouldn' tell--you know you said you wouldn' tell, +Huck." + +"Well, I did. I said I wouldn't, and I'll stick to it. Honest _injun_, +I will. People would call me a low-down Abolitionist and despise me for +keeping mum--but that don't make no difference. I ain't a-going to tell, +and I ain't a-going back there, anyways. So, now, le's know all about +it." + +"Well, you see, it 'uz dis way. Ole missus--dat's Miss Watson--she pecks +on me all de time, en treats me pooty rough, but she awluz said she +wouldn' sell me down to Orleans. But I noticed dey wuz a nigger trader +roun' de place considable lately, en I begin to git oneasy. Well, one +night I creeps to de do' pooty late, en de do' warn't quite shet, en I +hear old missus tell de widder she gwyne to sell me down to Orleans, but +she didn' want to, but she could git eight hund'd dollars for me, en it +'uz sich a big stack o' money she couldn' resis'. De widder she try to +git her to say she wouldn' do it, but I never waited to hear de res'. I +lit out mighty quick, I tell you. + +"I tuck out en shin down de hill, en 'spec to steal a skift 'long de +sho' som'ers 'bove de town, but dey wuz people a-stirring yit, so I hid +in de ole tumble-down cooper-shop on de bank to wait for everybody to +go 'way. Well, I wuz dah all night. Dey wuz somebody roun' all de time. + 'Long 'bout six in de mawnin' skifts begin to go by, en 'bout eight er +nine every skift dat went 'long wuz talkin' 'bout how yo' pap come over +to de town en say you's killed. Dese las' skifts wuz full o' ladies en +genlmen a-goin' over for to see de place. Sometimes dey'd pull up at +de sho' en take a res' b'fo' dey started acrost, so by de talk I got to +know all 'bout de killin'. I 'uz powerful sorry you's killed, Huck, but +I ain't no mo' now. + +"I laid dah under de shavin's all day. I 'uz hungry, but I warn't +afeard; bekase I knowed ole missus en de widder wuz goin' to start to +de camp-meet'n' right arter breakfas' en be gone all day, en dey knows +I goes off wid de cattle 'bout daylight, so dey wouldn' 'spec to see me +roun' de place, en so dey wouldn' miss me tell arter dark in de evenin'. +De yuther servants wouldn' miss me, kase dey'd shin out en take holiday +soon as de ole folks 'uz out'n de way. + +"Well, when it come dark I tuck out up de river road, en went 'bout two +mile er more to whah dey warn't no houses. I'd made up my mine 'bout +what I's agwyne to do. You see, ef I kep' on tryin' to git away afoot, +de dogs 'ud track me; ef I stole a skift to cross over, dey'd miss dat +skift, you see, en dey'd know 'bout whah I'd lan' on de yuther side, en +whah to pick up my track. So I says, a raff is what I's arter; it doan' +_make_ no track. + +"I see a light a-comin' roun' de p'int bymeby, so I wade' in en shove' +a log ahead o' me en swum more'n half way acrost de river, en got in +'mongst de drift-wood, en kep' my head down low, en kinder swum agin de +current tell de raff come along. Den I swum to de stern uv it en tuck +a-holt. It clouded up en 'uz pooty dark for a little while. So I clumb +up en laid down on de planks. De men 'uz all 'way yonder in de middle, +whah de lantern wuz. De river wuz a-risin', en dey wuz a good current; +so I reck'n'd 'at by fo' in de mawnin' I'd be twenty-five mile down de +river, en den I'd slip in jis b'fo' daylight en swim asho', en take to +de woods on de Illinois side. + +"But I didn' have no luck. When we 'uz mos' down to de head er de +islan' a man begin to come aft wid de lantern, I see it warn't no use +fer to wait, so I slid overboard en struck out fer de islan'. Well, I +had a notion I could lan' mos' anywhers, but I couldn't--bank too bluff. + I 'uz mos' to de foot er de islan' b'fo' I found' a good place. I went +into de woods en jedged I wouldn' fool wid raffs no mo', long as dey +move de lantern roun' so. I had my pipe en a plug er dog-leg, en some +matches in my cap, en dey warn't wet, so I 'uz all right." + +"And so you ain't had no meat nor bread to eat all this time? Why +didn't you get mud-turkles?" + +"How you gwyne to git 'm? You can't slip up on um en grab um; en how's +a body gwyne to hit um wid a rock? How could a body do it in de night? + En I warn't gwyne to show mysef on de bank in de daytime." + +"Well, that's so. You've had to keep in the woods all the time, of +course. Did you hear 'em shooting the cannon?" + +"Oh, yes. I knowed dey was arter you. I see um go by heah--watched um +thoo de bushes." + +Some young birds come along, flying a yard or two at a time and +lighting. Jim said it was a sign it was going to rain. He said it was +a sign when young chickens flew that way, and so he reckoned it was the +same way when young birds done it. I was going to catch some of them, +but Jim wouldn't let me. He said it was death. He said his father laid +mighty sick once, and some of them catched a bird, and his old granny +said his father would die, and he did. + +And Jim said you mustn't count the things you are going to cook for +dinner, because that would bring bad luck. The same if you shook the +table-cloth after sundown. And he said if a man owned a beehive +and that man died, the bees must be told about it before sun-up next +morning, or else the bees would all weaken down and quit work and die. + Jim said bees wouldn't sting idiots; but I didn't believe that, because +I had tried them lots of times myself, and they wouldn't sting me. + +I had heard about some of these things before, but not all of them. Jim +knowed all kinds of signs. He said he knowed most everything. I said +it looked to me like all the signs was about bad luck, and so I asked +him if there warn't any good-luck signs. He says: + +"Mighty few--an' _dey_ ain't no use to a body. What you want to know +when good luck's a-comin' for? Want to keep it off?" And he said: "Ef +you's got hairy arms en a hairy breas', it's a sign dat you's agwyne +to be rich. Well, dey's some use in a sign like dat, 'kase it's so fur +ahead. You see, maybe you's got to be po' a long time fust, en so you +might git discourage' en kill yo'sef 'f you didn' know by de sign dat +you gwyne to be rich bymeby." + +"Have you got hairy arms and a hairy breast, Jim?" + +"What's de use to ax dat question? Don't you see I has?" + +"Well, are you rich?" + +"No, but I ben rich wunst, and gwyne to be rich agin. Wunst I had +foteen dollars, but I tuck to specalat'n', en got busted out." + +"What did you speculate in, Jim?" + +"Well, fust I tackled stock." + +"What kind of stock?" + +"Why, live stock--cattle, you know. I put ten dollars in a cow. But +I ain' gwyne to resk no mo' money in stock. De cow up 'n' died on my +han's." + +"So you lost the ten dollars." + +"No, I didn't lose it all. I on'y los' 'bout nine of it. I sole de +hide en taller for a dollar en ten cents." + +"You had five dollars and ten cents left. Did you speculate any more?" + +"Yes. You know that one-laigged nigger dat b'longs to old Misto +Bradish? Well, he sot up a bank, en say anybody dat put in a dollar +would git fo' dollars mo' at de en' er de year. Well, all de niggers +went in, but dey didn't have much. I wuz de on'y one dat had much. So +I stuck out for mo' dan fo' dollars, en I said 'f I didn' git it I'd +start a bank mysef. Well, o' course dat nigger want' to keep me out er +de business, bekase he says dey warn't business 'nough for two banks, so +he say I could put in my five dollars en he pay me thirty-five at de en' +er de year. + +"So I done it. Den I reck'n'd I'd inves' de thirty-five dollars right +off en keep things a-movin'. Dey wuz a nigger name' Bob, dat had +ketched a wood-flat, en his marster didn' know it; en I bought it off'n +him en told him to take de thirty-five dollars when de en' er de +year come; but somebody stole de wood-flat dat night, en nex day de +one-laigged nigger say de bank's busted. So dey didn' none uv us git no +money." + +"What did you do with the ten cents, Jim?" + +"Well, I 'uz gwyne to spen' it, but I had a dream, en de dream tole me +to give it to a nigger name' Balum--Balum's Ass dey call him for short; +he's one er dem chuckleheads, you know. But he's lucky, dey say, en I +see I warn't lucky. De dream say let Balum inves' de ten cents en he'd +make a raise for me. Well, Balum he tuck de money, en when he wuz in +church he hear de preacher say dat whoever give to de po' len' to de +Lord, en boun' to git his money back a hund'd times. So Balum he tuck +en give de ten cents to de po', en laid low to see what wuz gwyne to +come of it." + +"Well, what did come of it, Jim?" + +"Nuffn never come of it. I couldn' manage to k'leck dat money no way; +en Balum he couldn'. I ain' gwyne to len' no mo' money 'dout I see de +security. Boun' to git yo' money back a hund'd times, de preacher says! +Ef I could git de ten _cents_ back, I'd call it squah, en be glad er de +chanst." + +"Well, it's all right anyway, Jim, long as you're going to be rich again +some time or other." + +"Yes; en I's rich now, come to look at it. I owns mysef, en I's wuth +eight hund'd dollars. I wisht I had de money, I wouldn' want no mo'." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +I wanted to go and look at a place right about the middle of the island +that I'd found when I was exploring; so we started and soon got to it, +because the island was only three miles long and a quarter of a mile +wide. + +This place was a tolerable long, steep hill or ridge about forty foot +high. We had a rough time getting to the top, the sides was so steep and +the bushes so thick. We tramped and clumb around all over it, and by +and by found a good big cavern in the rock, most up to the top on the +side towards Illinois. The cavern was as big as two or three rooms +bunched together, and Jim could stand up straight in it. It was cool in +there. Jim was for putting our traps in there right away, but I said we +didn't want to be climbing up and down there all the time. + +Jim said if we had the canoe hid in a good place, and had all the traps +in the cavern, we could rush there if anybody was to come to the island, +and they would never find us without dogs. And, besides, he said them +little birds had said it was going to rain, and did I want the things to +get wet? + +So we went back and got the canoe, and paddled up abreast the cavern, +and lugged all the traps up there. Then we hunted up a place close by +to hide the canoe in, amongst the thick willows. We took some fish off +of the lines and set them again, and begun to get ready for dinner. + +The door of the cavern was big enough to roll a hogshead in, and on one +side of the door the floor stuck out a little bit, and was flat and a +good place to build a fire on. So we built it there and cooked dinner. + +We spread the blankets inside for a carpet, and eat our dinner in there. +We put all the other things handy at the back of the cavern. Pretty +soon it darkened up, and begun to thunder and lighten; so the birds was +right about it. Directly it begun to rain, and it rained like all fury, +too, and I never see the wind blow so. It was one of these regular +summer storms. It would get so dark that it looked all blue-black +outside, and lovely; and the rain would thrash along by so thick that +the trees off a little ways looked dim and spider-webby; and here would +come a blast of wind that would bend the trees down and turn up the +pale underside of the leaves; and then a perfect ripper of a gust would +follow along and set the branches to tossing their arms as if they +was just wild; and next, when it was just about the bluest and +blackest--_FST_! it was as bright as glory, and you'd have a little +glimpse of tree-tops a-plunging about away off yonder in the storm, +hundreds of yards further than you could see before; dark as sin again +in a second, and now you'd hear the thunder let go with an awful crash, +and then go rumbling, grumbling, tumbling, down the sky towards the +under side of the world, like rolling empty barrels down stairs--where +it's long stairs and they bounce a good deal, you know. + +"Jim, this is nice," I says. "I wouldn't want to be nowhere else but +here. Pass me along another hunk of fish and some hot corn-bread." + +"Well, you wouldn't a ben here 'f it hadn't a ben for Jim. You'd a ben +down dah in de woods widout any dinner, en gittn' mos' drownded, too; +dat you would, honey. Chickens knows when it's gwyne to rain, en so do +de birds, chile." + +The river went on raising and raising for ten or twelve days, till at +last it was over the banks. The water was three or four foot deep on +the island in the low places and on the Illinois bottom. On that side +it was a good many miles wide, but on the Missouri side it was the same +old distance across--a half a mile--because the Missouri shore was just a +wall of high bluffs. + +Daytimes we paddled all over the island in the canoe, It was mighty cool +and shady in the deep woods, even if the sun was blazing outside. We +went winding in and out amongst the trees, and sometimes the vines hung +so thick we had to back away and go some other way. Well, on every old +broken-down tree you could see rabbits and snakes and such things; and +when the island had been overflowed a day or two they got so tame, on +account of being hungry, that you could paddle right up and put your +hand on them if you wanted to; but not the snakes and turtles--they would +slide off in the water. The ridge our cavern was in was full of them. +We could a had pets enough if we'd wanted them. + +One night we catched a little section of a lumber raft--nice pine planks. +It was twelve foot wide and about fifteen or sixteen foot long, and +the top stood above water six or seven inches--a solid, level floor. We +could see saw-logs go by in the daylight sometimes, but we let them go; +we didn't show ourselves in daylight. + +Another night when we was up at the head of the island, just before +daylight, here comes a frame-house down, on the west side. She was +a two-story, and tilted over considerable. We paddled out and got +aboard--clumb in at an upstairs window. But it was too dark to see yet, +so we made the canoe fast and set in her to wait for daylight. + +The light begun to come before we got to the foot of the island. Then +we looked in at the window. We could make out a bed, and a table, and +two old chairs, and lots of things around about on the floor, and there +was clothes hanging against the wall. There was something laying on the +floor in the far corner that looked like a man. So Jim says: + +"Hello, you!" + +But it didn't budge. So I hollered again, and then Jim says: + +"De man ain't asleep--he's dead. You hold still--I'll go en see." + +He went, and bent down and looked, and says: + +"It's a dead man. Yes, indeedy; naked, too. He's ben shot in de back. +I reck'n he's ben dead two er three days. Come in, Huck, but doan' look +at his face--it's too gashly." + +I didn't look at him at all. Jim throwed some old rags over him, but +he needn't done it; I didn't want to see him. There was heaps of old +greasy cards scattered around over the floor, and old whisky bottles, +and a couple of masks made out of black cloth; and all over the walls +was the ignorantest kind of words and pictures made with charcoal. + There was two old dirty calico dresses, and a sun-bonnet, and some +women's underclothes hanging against the wall, and some men's clothing, +too. We put the lot into the canoe--it might come good. There was a +boy's old speckled straw hat on the floor; I took that, too. And there +was a bottle that had had milk in it, and it had a rag stopper for a +baby to suck. We would a took the bottle, but it was broke. There was +a seedy old chest, and an old hair trunk with the hinges broke. They +stood open, but there warn't nothing left in them that was any account. + The way things was scattered about we reckoned the people left in a +hurry, and warn't fixed so as to carry off most of their stuff. + +We got an old tin lantern, and a butcher-knife without any handle, and +a bran-new Barlow knife worth two bits in any store, and a lot of tallow +candles, and a tin candlestick, and a gourd, and a tin cup, and a ratty +old bedquilt off the bed, and a reticule with needles and pins and +beeswax and buttons and thread and all such truck in it, and a hatchet +and some nails, and a fishline as thick as my little finger with some +monstrous hooks on it, and a roll of buckskin, and a leather dog-collar, +and a horseshoe, and some vials of medicine that didn't have no label +on them; and just as we was leaving I found a tolerable good curry-comb, +and Jim he found a ratty old fiddle-bow, and a wooden leg. The straps +was broke off of it, but, barring that, it was a good enough leg, though +it was too long for me and not long enough for Jim, and we couldn't find +the other one, though we hunted all around. + +And so, take it all around, we made a good haul. When we was ready to +shove off we was a quarter of a mile below the island, and it was pretty +broad day; so I made Jim lay down in the canoe and cover up with the +quilt, because if he set up people could tell he was a nigger a good +ways off. I paddled over to the Illinois shore, and drifted down most +a half a mile doing it. I crept up the dead water under the bank, and +hadn't no accidents and didn't see nobody. We got home all safe. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +AFTER breakfast I wanted to talk about the dead man and guess out how he +come to be killed, but Jim didn't want to. He said it would fetch bad +luck; and besides, he said, he might come and ha'nt us; he said a man +that warn't buried was more likely to go a-ha'nting around than one +that was planted and comfortable. That sounded pretty reasonable, so +I didn't say no more; but I couldn't keep from studying over it and +wishing I knowed who shot the man, and what they done it for. + +We rummaged the clothes we'd got, and found eight dollars in silver +sewed up in the lining of an old blanket overcoat. Jim said he reckoned +the people in that house stole the coat, because if they'd a knowed the +money was there they wouldn't a left it. I said I reckoned they killed +him, too; but Jim didn't want to talk about that. I says: + +"Now you think it's bad luck; but what did you say when I fetched in the +snake-skin that I found on the top of the ridge day before yesterday? +You said it was the worst bad luck in the world to touch a snake-skin +with my hands. Well, here's your bad luck! We've raked in all this +truck and eight dollars besides. I wish we could have some bad luck +like this every day, Jim." + +"Never you mind, honey, never you mind. Don't you git too peart. It's +a-comin'. Mind I tell you, it's a-comin'." + +It did come, too. It was a Tuesday that we had that talk. Well, after +dinner Friday we was laying around in the grass at the upper end of the +ridge, and got out of tobacco. I went to the cavern to get some, and +found a rattlesnake in there. I killed him, and curled him up on the +foot of Jim's blanket, ever so natural, thinking there'd be some fun +when Jim found him there. Well, by night I forgot all about the snake, +and when Jim flung himself down on the blanket while I struck a light +the snake's mate was there, and bit him. + +He jumped up yelling, and the first thing the light showed was the +varmint curled up and ready for another spring. I laid him out in a +second with a stick, and Jim grabbed pap's whisky-jug and begun to pour +it down. + +He was barefooted, and the snake bit him right on the heel. That all +comes of my being such a fool as to not remember that wherever you leave +a dead snake its mate always comes there and curls around it. Jim told +me to chop off the snake's head and throw it away, and then skin the +body and roast a piece of it. I done it, and he eat it and said it +would help cure him. He made me take off the rattles and tie them around +his wrist, too. He said that that would help. Then I slid out quiet +and throwed the snakes clear away amongst the bushes; for I warn't going +to let Jim find out it was all my fault, not if I could help it. + +Jim sucked and sucked at the jug, and now and then he got out of his +head and pitched around and yelled; but every time he come to himself he +went to sucking at the jug again. His foot swelled up pretty big, and +so did his leg; but by and by the drunk begun to come, and so I judged +he was all right; but I'd druther been bit with a snake than pap's +whisky. + +Jim was laid up for four days and nights. Then the swelling was all +gone and he was around again. I made up my mind I wouldn't ever take +a-holt of a snake-skin again with my hands, now that I see what had come +of it. Jim said he reckoned I would believe him next time. And he said +that handling a snake-skin was such awful bad luck that maybe we hadn't +got to the end of it yet. He said he druther see the new moon over his +left shoulder as much as a thousand times than take up a snake-skin +in his hand. Well, I was getting to feel that way myself, though I've +always reckoned that looking at the new moon over your left shoulder is +one of the carelessest and foolishest things a body can do. Old Hank +Bunker done it once, and bragged about it; and in less than two years he +got drunk and fell off of the shot-tower, and spread himself out so +that he was just a kind of a layer, as you may say; and they slid him +edgeways between two barn doors for a coffin, and buried him so, so +they say, but I didn't see it. Pap told me. But anyway it all come of +looking at the moon that way, like a fool. + +Well, the days went along, and the river went down between its banks +again; and about the first thing we done was to bait one of the big +hooks with a skinned rabbit and set it and catch a catfish that was +as big as a man, being six foot two inches long, and weighed over two +hundred pounds. We couldn't handle him, of course; he would a flung us +into Illinois. We just set there and watched him rip and tear around +till he drownded. We found a brass button in his stomach and a round +ball, and lots of rubbage. We split the ball open with the hatchet, +and there was a spool in it. Jim said he'd had it there a long time, to +coat it over so and make a ball of it. It was as big a fish as was ever +catched in the Mississippi, I reckon. Jim said he hadn't ever seen +a bigger one. He would a been worth a good deal over at the village. + They peddle out such a fish as that by the pound in the market-house +there; everybody buys some of him; his meat's as white as snow and makes +a good fry. + +Next morning I said it was getting slow and dull, and I wanted to get a +stirring up some way. I said I reckoned I would slip over the river and +find out what was going on. Jim liked that notion; but he said I +must go in the dark and look sharp. Then he studied it over and said, +couldn't I put on some of them old things and dress up like a girl? + That was a good notion, too. So we shortened up one of the calico +gowns, and I turned up my trouser-legs to my knees and got into it. Jim +hitched it behind with the hooks, and it was a fair fit. I put on the +sun-bonnet and tied it under my chin, and then for a body to look in +and see my face was like looking down a joint of stove-pipe. Jim said +nobody would know me, even in the daytime, hardly. I practiced around +all day to get the hang of the things, and by and by I could do pretty +well in them, only Jim said I didn't walk like a girl; and he said +I must quit pulling up my gown to get at my britches-pocket. I took +notice, and done better. + +I started up the Illinois shore in the canoe just after dark. + +I started across to the town from a little below the ferry-landing, and +the drift of the current fetched me in at the bottom of the town. I +tied up and started along the bank. There was a light burning in a +little shanty that hadn't been lived in for a long time, and I wondered +who had took up quarters there. I slipped up and peeped in at the +window. There was a woman about forty year old in there knitting by +a candle that was on a pine table. I didn't know her face; she was a +stranger, for you couldn't start a face in that town that I didn't know. + Now this was lucky, because I was weakening; I was getting afraid I had +come; people might know my voice and find me out. But if this woman had +been in such a little town two days she could tell me all I wanted to +know; so I knocked at the door, and made up my mind I wouldn't forget I +was a girl. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +"COME in," says the woman, and I did. She says: "Take a cheer." + +I done it. She looked me all over with her little shiny eyes, and says: + +"What might your name be?" + +"Sarah Williams." + +"Where 'bouts do you live? In this neighborhood?' + +"No'm. In Hookerville, seven mile below. I've walked all the way and +I'm all tired out." + +"Hungry, too, I reckon. I'll find you something." + +"No'm, I ain't hungry. I was so hungry I had to stop two miles below +here at a farm; so I ain't hungry no more. It's what makes me so late. +My mother's down sick, and out of money and everything, and I come to +tell my uncle Abner Moore. He lives at the upper end of the town, she +says. I hain't ever been here before. Do you know him?" + +"No; but I don't know everybody yet. I haven't lived here quite two +weeks. It's a considerable ways to the upper end of the town. You +better stay here all night. Take off your bonnet." + +"No," I says; "I'll rest a while, I reckon, and go on. I ain't afeared +of the dark." + +She said she wouldn't let me go by myself, but her husband would be in +by and by, maybe in a hour and a half, and she'd send him along with me. +Then she got to talking about her husband, and about her relations up +the river, and her relations down the river, and about how much better +off they used to was, and how they didn't know but they'd made a mistake +coming to our town, instead of letting well alone--and so on and so on, +till I was afeard I had made a mistake coming to her to find out what +was going on in the town; but by and by she dropped on to pap and the +murder, and then I was pretty willing to let her clatter right along. + She told about me and Tom Sawyer finding the six thousand dollars (only +she got it ten) and all about pap and what a hard lot he was, and what +a hard lot I was, and at last she got down to where I was murdered. I +says: + +"Who done it? We've heard considerable about these goings on down in +Hookerville, but we don't know who 'twas that killed Huck Finn." + +"Well, I reckon there's a right smart chance of people _here_ that'd +like to know who killed him. Some think old Finn done it himself." + +"No--is that so?" + +"Most everybody thought it at first. He'll never know how nigh he come +to getting lynched. But before night they changed around and judged it +was done by a runaway nigger named Jim." + +"Why _he_--" + +I stopped. I reckoned I better keep still. She run on, and never +noticed I had put in at all: + +"The nigger run off the very night Huck Finn was killed. So there's a +reward out for him--three hundred dollars. And there's a reward out for +old Finn, too--two hundred dollars. You see, he come to town the +morning after the murder, and told about it, and was out with 'em on the +ferryboat hunt, and right away after he up and left. Before night they +wanted to lynch him, but he was gone, you see. Well, next day they +found out the nigger was gone; they found out he hadn't ben seen sence +ten o'clock the night the murder was done. So then they put it on him, +you see; and while they was full of it, next day, back comes old Finn, +and went boo-hooing to Judge Thatcher to get money to hunt for the +nigger all over Illinois with. The judge gave him some, and that evening +he got drunk, and was around till after midnight with a couple of mighty +hard-looking strangers, and then went off with them. Well, he hain't +come back sence, and they ain't looking for him back till this thing +blows over a little, for people thinks now that he killed his boy and +fixed things so folks would think robbers done it, and then he'd get +Huck's money without having to bother a long time with a lawsuit. + People do say he warn't any too good to do it. Oh, he's sly, I reckon. + If he don't come back for a year he'll be all right. You can't prove +anything on him, you know; everything will be quieted down then, and +he'll walk in Huck's money as easy as nothing." + +"Yes, I reckon so, 'm. I don't see nothing in the way of it. Has +everybody quit thinking the nigger done it?" + +"Oh, no, not everybody. A good many thinks he done it. But they'll get +the nigger pretty soon now, and maybe they can scare it out of him." + +"Why, are they after him yet?" + +"Well, you're innocent, ain't you! Does three hundred dollars lay +around every day for people to pick up? Some folks think the nigger +ain't far from here. I'm one of them--but I hain't talked it around. A +few days ago I was talking with an old couple that lives next door in +the log shanty, and they happened to say hardly anybody ever goes to +that island over yonder that they call Jackson's Island. Don't anybody +live there? says I. No, nobody, says they. I didn't say any more, but +I done some thinking. I was pretty near certain I'd seen smoke over +there, about the head of the island, a day or two before that, so I says +to myself, like as not that nigger's hiding over there; anyway, says +I, it's worth the trouble to give the place a hunt. I hain't seen any +smoke sence, so I reckon maybe he's gone, if it was him; but husband's +going over to see--him and another man. He was gone up the river; but he +got back to-day, and I told him as soon as he got here two hours ago." + +I had got so uneasy I couldn't set still. I had to do something with my +hands; so I took up a needle off of the table and went to threading +it. My hands shook, and I was making a bad job of it. When the woman +stopped talking I looked up, and she was looking at me pretty curious +and smiling a little. I put down the needle and thread, and let on to +be interested--and I was, too--and says: + +"Three hundred dollars is a power of money. I wish my mother could get +it. Is your husband going over there to-night?" + +"Oh, yes. He went up-town with the man I was telling you of, to get a +boat and see if they could borrow another gun. They'll go over after +midnight." + +"Couldn't they see better if they was to wait till daytime?" + +"Yes. And couldn't the nigger see better, too? After midnight he'll +likely be asleep, and they can slip around through the woods and hunt up +his camp fire all the better for the dark, if he's got one." + +"I didn't think of that." + +The woman kept looking at me pretty curious, and I didn't feel a bit +comfortable. Pretty soon she says, + +"What did you say your name was, honey?" + +"M--Mary Williams." + +Somehow it didn't seem to me that I said it was Mary before, so I didn't +look up--seemed to me I said it was Sarah; so I felt sort of cornered, +and was afeared maybe I was looking it, too. I wished the woman would +say something more; the longer she set still the uneasier I was. But +now she says: + +"Honey, I thought you said it was Sarah when you first come in?" + +"Oh, yes'm, I did. Sarah Mary Williams. Sarah's my first name. Some +calls me Sarah, some calls me Mary." + +"Oh, that's the way of it?" + +"Yes'm." + +I was feeling better then, but I wished I was out of there, anyway. I +couldn't look up yet. + +Well, the woman fell to talking about how hard times was, and how poor +they had to live, and how the rats was as free as if they owned the +place, and so forth and so on, and then I got easy again. She was right +about the rats. You'd see one stick his nose out of a hole in the corner +every little while. She said she had to have things handy to throw at +them when she was alone, or they wouldn't give her no peace. She showed +me a bar of lead twisted up into a knot, and said she was a good shot +with it generly, but she'd wrenched her arm a day or two ago, and didn't +know whether she could throw true now. But she watched for a chance, +and directly banged away at a rat; but she missed him wide, and said +"Ouch!" it hurt her arm so. Then she told me to try for the next one. + I wanted to be getting away before the old man got back, but of course +I didn't let on. I got the thing, and the first rat that showed his +nose I let drive, and if he'd a stayed where he was he'd a been a +tolerable sick rat. She said that was first-rate, and she reckoned I +would hive the next one. She went and got the lump of lead and fetched +it back, and brought along a hank of yarn which she wanted me to help +her with. I held up my two hands and she put the hank over them, and +went on talking about her and her husband's matters. But she broke off +to say: + +"Keep your eye on the rats. You better have the lead in your lap, +handy." + +So she dropped the lump into my lap just at that moment, and I clapped +my legs together on it and she went on talking. But only about a +minute. Then she took off the hank and looked me straight in the face, +and very pleasant, and says: + +"Come, now, what's your real name?" + +"Wh--what, mum?" + +"What's your real name? Is it Bill, or Tom, or Bob?--or what is it?" + +I reckon I shook like a leaf, and I didn't know hardly what to do. But +I says: + +"Please to don't poke fun at a poor girl like me, mum. If I'm in the +way here, I'll--" + +"No, you won't. Set down and stay where you are. I ain't going to hurt +you, and I ain't going to tell on you, nuther. You just tell me your +secret, and trust me. I'll keep it; and, what's more, I'll help +you. So'll my old man if you want him to. You see, you're a runaway +'prentice, that's all. It ain't anything. There ain't no harm in it. +You've been treated bad, and you made up your mind to cut. Bless you, +child, I wouldn't tell on you. Tell me all about it now, that's a good +boy." + +So I said it wouldn't be no use to try to play it any longer, and I +would just make a clean breast and tell her everything, but she musn't +go back on her promise. Then I told her my father and mother was dead, +and the law had bound me out to a mean old farmer in the country thirty +mile back from the river, and he treated me so bad I couldn't stand it +no longer; he went away to be gone a couple of days, and so I took my +chance and stole some of his daughter's old clothes and cleared out, and +I had been three nights coming the thirty miles. I traveled nights, +and hid daytimes and slept, and the bag of bread and meat I carried from +home lasted me all the way, and I had a-plenty. I said I believed my +uncle Abner Moore would take care of me, and so that was why I struck +out for this town of Goshen. + +"Goshen, child? This ain't Goshen. This is St. Petersburg. Goshen's +ten mile further up the river. Who told you this was Goshen?" + +"Why, a man I met at daybreak this morning, just as I was going to turn +into the woods for my regular sleep. He told me when the roads forked I +must take the right hand, and five mile would fetch me to Goshen." + +"He was drunk, I reckon. He told you just exactly wrong." + +"Well, he did act like he was drunk, but it ain't no matter now. I got +to be moving along. I'll fetch Goshen before daylight." + +"Hold on a minute. I'll put you up a snack to eat. You might want it." + +So she put me up a snack, and says: + +"Say, when a cow's laying down, which end of her gets up first? Answer +up prompt now--don't stop to study over it. Which end gets up first?" + +"The hind end, mum." + +"Well, then, a horse?" + +"The for'rard end, mum." + +"Which side of a tree does the moss grow on?" + +"North side." + +"If fifteen cows is browsing on a hillside, how many of them eats with +their heads pointed the same direction?" + +"The whole fifteen, mum." + +"Well, I reckon you _have_ lived in the country. I thought maybe you +was trying to hocus me again. What's your real name, now?" + +"George Peters, mum." + +"Well, try to remember it, George. Don't forget and tell me it's +Elexander before you go, and then get out by saying it's George +Elexander when I catch you. And don't go about women in that old +calico. You do a girl tolerable poor, but you might fool men, maybe. + Bless you, child, when you set out to thread a needle don't hold the +thread still and fetch the needle up to it; hold the needle still and +poke the thread at it; that's the way a woman most always does, but a +man always does t'other way. And when you throw at a rat or anything, +hitch yourself up a tiptoe and fetch your hand up over your head as +awkward as you can, and miss your rat about six or seven foot. Throw +stiff-armed from the shoulder, like there was a pivot there for it to +turn on, like a girl; not from the wrist and elbow, with your arm out +to one side, like a boy. And, mind you, when a girl tries to catch +anything in her lap she throws her knees apart; she don't clap them +together, the way you did when you catched the lump of lead. Why, I +spotted you for a boy when you was threading the needle; and I contrived +the other things just to make certain. Now trot along to your uncle, +Sarah Mary Williams George Elexander Peters, and if you get into trouble +you send word to Mrs. Judith Loftus, which is me, and I'll do what I can +to get you out of it. Keep the river road all the way, and next time +you tramp take shoes and socks with you. The river road's a rocky one, +and your feet'll be in a condition when you get to Goshen, I reckon." + +I went up the bank about fifty yards, and then I doubled on my tracks +and slipped back to where my canoe was, a good piece below the house. I +jumped in, and was off in a hurry. I went up-stream far enough to +make the head of the island, and then started across. I took off the +sun-bonnet, for I didn't want no blinders on then. When I was about the +middle I heard the clock begin to strike, so I stops and listens; the +sound come faint over the water but clear--eleven. When I struck the +head of the island I never waited to blow, though I was most winded, but +I shoved right into the timber where my old camp used to be, and started +a good fire there on a high and dry spot. + +Then I jumped in the canoe and dug out for our place, a mile and a half +below, as hard as I could go. I landed, and slopped through the timber +and up the ridge and into the cavern. There Jim laid, sound asleep on +the ground. I roused him out and says: + +"Git up and hump yourself, Jim! There ain't a minute to lose. They're +after us!" + +Jim never asked no questions, he never said a word; but the way he +worked for the next half an hour showed about how he was scared. By +that time everything we had in the world was on our raft, and she was +ready to be shoved out from the willow cove where she was hid. We +put out the camp fire at the cavern the first thing, and didn't show a +candle outside after that. + +I took the canoe out from the shore a little piece, and took a look; +but if there was a boat around I couldn't see it, for stars and shadows +ain't good to see by. Then we got out the raft and slipped along down +in the shade, past the foot of the island dead still--never saying a +word. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +IT must a been close on to one o'clock when we got below the island at +last, and the raft did seem to go mighty slow. If a boat was to come +along we was going to take to the canoe and break for the Illinois +shore; and it was well a boat didn't come, for we hadn't ever thought to +put the gun in the canoe, or a fishing-line, or anything to eat. We +was in ruther too much of a sweat to think of so many things. It warn't +good judgment to put _everything_ on the raft. + +If the men went to the island I just expect they found the camp fire I +built, and watched it all night for Jim to come. Anyways, they stayed +away from us, and if my building the fire never fooled them it warn't no +fault of mine. I played it as low down on them as I could. + +When the first streak of day began to show we tied up to a towhead in a +big bend on the Illinois side, and hacked off cottonwood branches with +the hatchet, and covered up the raft with them so she looked like there +had been a cave-in in the bank there. A tow-head is a sandbar that has +cottonwoods on it as thick as harrow-teeth. + +We had mountains on the Missouri shore and heavy timber on the Illinois +side, and the channel was down the Missouri shore at that place, so we +warn't afraid of anybody running across us. We laid there all day, +and watched the rafts and steamboats spin down the Missouri shore, and +up-bound steamboats fight the big river in the middle. I told Jim all +about the time I had jabbering with that woman; and Jim said she was +a smart one, and if she was to start after us herself she wouldn't set +down and watch a camp fire--no, sir, she'd fetch a dog. Well, then, I +said, why couldn't she tell her husband to fetch a dog? Jim said he +bet she did think of it by the time the men was ready to start, and he +believed they must a gone up-town to get a dog and so they lost all that +time, or else we wouldn't be here on a towhead sixteen or seventeen mile +below the village--no, indeedy, we would be in that same old town again. + So I said I didn't care what was the reason they didn't get us as long +as they didn't. + +When it was beginning to come on dark we poked our heads out of the +cottonwood thicket, and looked up and down and across; nothing in sight; +so Jim took up some of the top planks of the raft and built a snug +wigwam to get under in blazing weather and rainy, and to keep the things +dry. Jim made a floor for the wigwam, and raised it a foot or more above +the level of the raft, so now the blankets and all the traps was out of +reach of steamboat waves. Right in the middle of the wigwam we made a +layer of dirt about five or six inches deep with a frame around it for +to hold it to its place; this was to build a fire on in sloppy weather +or chilly; the wigwam would keep it from being seen. We made an extra +steering-oar, too, because one of the others might get broke on a snag +or something. We fixed up a short forked stick to hang the old lantern +on, because we must always light the lantern whenever we see a steamboat +coming down-stream, to keep from getting run over; but we wouldn't have +to light it for up-stream boats unless we see we was in what they call +a "crossing"; for the river was pretty high yet, very low banks being +still a little under water; so up-bound boats didn't always run the +channel, but hunted easy water. + +This second night we run between seven and eight hours, with a current +that was making over four mile an hour. We catched fish and talked, +and we took a swim now and then to keep off sleepiness. It was kind of +solemn, drifting down the big, still river, laying on our backs looking +up at the stars, and we didn't ever feel like talking loud, and it +warn't often that we laughed--only a little kind of a low chuckle. We +had mighty good weather as a general thing, and nothing ever happened to +us at all--that night, nor the next, nor the next. + +Every night we passed towns, some of them away up on black hillsides, +nothing but just a shiny bed of lights; not a house could you see. The +fifth night we passed St. Louis, and it was like the whole world lit up. +In St. Petersburg they used to say there was twenty or thirty thousand +people in St. Louis, but I never believed it till I see that wonderful +spread of lights at two o'clock that still night. There warn't a sound +there; everybody was asleep. + +Every night now I used to slip ashore towards ten o'clock at some little +village, and buy ten or fifteen cents' worth of meal or bacon or other +stuff to eat; and sometimes I lifted a chicken that warn't roosting +comfortable, and took him along. Pap always said, take a chicken when +you get a chance, because if you don't want him yourself you can easy +find somebody that does, and a good deed ain't ever forgot. I never see +pap when he didn't want the chicken himself, but that is what he used to +say, anyway. + +Mornings before daylight I slipped into cornfields and borrowed a +watermelon, or a mushmelon, or a punkin, or some new corn, or things of +that kind. Pap always said it warn't no harm to borrow things if you +was meaning to pay them back some time; but the widow said it warn't +anything but a soft name for stealing, and no decent body would do it. + Jim said he reckoned the widow was partly right and pap was partly +right; so the best way would be for us to pick out two or three things +from the list and say we wouldn't borrow them any more--then he reckoned +it wouldn't be no harm to borrow the others. So we talked it over all +one night, drifting along down the river, trying to make up our minds +whether to drop the watermelons, or the cantelopes, or the mushmelons, +or what. But towards daylight we got it all settled satisfactory, and +concluded to drop crabapples and p'simmons. We warn't feeling just +right before that, but it was all comfortable now. I was glad the way +it come out, too, because crabapples ain't ever good, and the p'simmons +wouldn't be ripe for two or three months yet. + +We shot a water-fowl now and then that got up too early in the morning +or didn't go to bed early enough in the evening. Take it all round, we +lived pretty high. + +The fifth night below St. Louis we had a big storm after midnight, with +a power of thunder and lightning, and the rain poured down in a solid +sheet. We stayed in the wigwam and let the raft take care of itself. +When the lightning glared out we could see a big straight river ahead, +and high, rocky bluffs on both sides. By and by says I, "Hel-_lo_, Jim, +looky yonder!" It was a steamboat that had killed herself on a rock. + We was drifting straight down for her. The lightning showed her very +distinct. She was leaning over, with part of her upper deck above +water, and you could see every little chimbly-guy clean and clear, and a +chair by the big bell, with an old slouch hat hanging on the back of it, +when the flashes come. + +Well, it being away in the night and stormy, and all so mysterious-like, +I felt just the way any other boy would a felt when I see that wreck +laying there so mournful and lonesome in the middle of the river. I +wanted to get aboard of her and slink around a little, and see what +there was there. So I says: + +"Le's land on her, Jim." + +But Jim was dead against it at first. He says: + +"I doan' want to go fool'n 'long er no wrack. We's doin' blame' well, +en we better let blame' well alone, as de good book says. Like as not +dey's a watchman on dat wrack." + +"Watchman your grandmother," I says; "there ain't nothing to watch but +the texas and the pilot-house; and do you reckon anybody's going to resk +his life for a texas and a pilot-house such a night as this, when +it's likely to break up and wash off down the river any minute?" Jim +couldn't say nothing to that, so he didn't try. "And besides," I says, +"we might borrow something worth having out of the captain's stateroom. + Seegars, I bet you--and cost five cents apiece, solid cash. Steamboat +captains is always rich, and get sixty dollars a month, and _they_ don't +care a cent what a thing costs, you know, long as they want it. Stick a +candle in your pocket; I can't rest, Jim, till we give her a rummaging. + Do you reckon Tom Sawyer would ever go by this thing? Not for pie, he +wouldn't. He'd call it an adventure--that's what he'd call it; and he'd +land on that wreck if it was his last act. And wouldn't he throw style +into it?--wouldn't he spread himself, nor nothing? Why, you'd think it +was Christopher C'lumbus discovering Kingdom-Come. I wish Tom Sawyer +_was_ here." + +Jim he grumbled a little, but give in. He said we mustn't talk any more +than we could help, and then talk mighty low. The lightning showed us +the wreck again just in time, and we fetched the stabboard derrick, and +made fast there. + +The deck was high out here. We went sneaking down the slope of it to +labboard, in the dark, towards the texas, feeling our way slow with our +feet, and spreading our hands out to fend off the guys, for it was so +dark we couldn't see no sign of them. Pretty soon we struck the forward +end of the skylight, and clumb on to it; and the next step fetched us in +front of the captain's door, which was open, and by Jimminy, away down +through the texas-hall we see a light! and all in the same second we +seem to hear low voices in yonder! + +Jim whispered and said he was feeling powerful sick, and told me to come +along. I says, all right, and was going to start for the raft; but just +then I heard a voice wail out and say: + +"Oh, please don't, boys; I swear I won't ever tell!" + +Another voice said, pretty loud: + +"It's a lie, Jim Turner. You've acted this way before. You always want +more'n your share of the truck, and you've always got it, too, because +you've swore 't if you didn't you'd tell. But this time you've said +it jest one time too many. You're the meanest, treacherousest hound in +this country." + +By this time Jim was gone for the raft. I was just a-biling with +curiosity; and I says to myself, Tom Sawyer wouldn't back out now, +and so I won't either; I'm a-going to see what's going on here. So I +dropped on my hands and knees in the little passage, and crept aft +in the dark till there warn't but one stateroom betwixt me and the +cross-hall of the texas. Then in there I see a man stretched on the +floor and tied hand and foot, and two men standing over him, and one +of them had a dim lantern in his hand, and the other one had a pistol. + This one kept pointing the pistol at the man's head on the floor, and +saying: + +"I'd _like_ to! And I orter, too--a mean skunk!" + +The man on the floor would shrivel up and say, "Oh, please don't, Bill; +I hain't ever goin' to tell." + +And every time he said that the man with the lantern would laugh and +say: + +"'Deed you _ain't!_ You never said no truer thing 'n that, you bet +you." And once he said: "Hear him beg! and yit if we hadn't got the +best of him and tied him he'd a killed us both. And what _for_? Jist +for noth'n. Jist because we stood on our _rights_--that's what for. But +I lay you ain't a-goin' to threaten nobody any more, Jim Turner. Put +_up_ that pistol, Bill." + +Bill says: + +"I don't want to, Jake Packard. I'm for killin' him--and didn't he kill +old Hatfield jist the same way--and don't he deserve it?" + +"But I don't _want_ him killed, and I've got my reasons for it." + +"Bless yo' heart for them words, Jake Packard! I'll never forgit you +long's I live!" says the man on the floor, sort of blubbering. + +Packard didn't take no notice of that, but hung up his lantern on a nail +and started towards where I was there in the dark, and motioned Bill +to come. I crawfished as fast as I could about two yards, but the boat +slanted so that I couldn't make very good time; so to keep from getting +run over and catched I crawled into a stateroom on the upper side. + The man came a-pawing along in the dark, and when Packard got to my +stateroom, he says: + +"Here--come in here." + +And in he come, and Bill after him. But before they got in I was up +in the upper berth, cornered, and sorry I come. Then they stood there, +with their hands on the ledge of the berth, and talked. I couldn't see +them, but I could tell where they was by the whisky they'd been having. + I was glad I didn't drink whisky; but it wouldn't made much difference +anyway, because most of the time they couldn't a treed me because I +didn't breathe. I was too scared. And, besides, a body _couldn't_ +breathe and hear such talk. They talked low and earnest. Bill wanted +to kill Turner. He says: + +"He's said he'll tell, and he will. If we was to give both our shares +to him _now_ it wouldn't make no difference after the row and the way +we've served him. Shore's you're born, he'll turn State's evidence; now +you hear _me_. I'm for putting him out of his troubles." + +"So'm I," says Packard, very quiet. + +"Blame it, I'd sorter begun to think you wasn't. Well, then, that's all +right. Le's go and do it." + +"Hold on a minute; I hain't had my say yit. You listen to me. +Shooting's good, but there's quieter ways if the thing's _got_ to be +done. But what I say is this: it ain't good sense to go court'n around +after a halter if you can git at what you're up to in some way that's +jist as good and at the same time don't bring you into no resks. Ain't +that so?" + +"You bet it is. But how you goin' to manage it this time?" + +"Well, my idea is this: we'll rustle around and gather up whatever +pickins we've overlooked in the staterooms, and shove for shore and hide +the truck. Then we'll wait. Now I say it ain't a-goin' to be more'n two +hours befo' this wrack breaks up and washes off down the river. See? +He'll be drownded, and won't have nobody to blame for it but his own +self. I reckon that's a considerble sight better 'n killin' of him. + I'm unfavorable to killin' a man as long as you can git aroun' it; it +ain't good sense, it ain't good morals. Ain't I right?" + +"Yes, I reck'n you are. But s'pose she _don't_ break up and wash off?" + +"Well, we can wait the two hours anyway and see, can't we?" + +"All right, then; come along." + +So they started, and I lit out, all in a cold sweat, and scrambled +forward. It was dark as pitch there; but I said, in a kind of a coarse +whisper, "Jim!" and he answered up, right at my elbow, with a sort of a +moan, and I says: + +"Quick, Jim, it ain't no time for fooling around and moaning; there's a +gang of murderers in yonder, and if we don't hunt up their boat and set +her drifting down the river so these fellows can't get away from the +wreck there's one of 'em going to be in a bad fix. But if we find their +boat we can put _all_ of 'em in a bad fix--for the sheriff 'll get 'em. +Quick--hurry! I'll hunt the labboard side, you hunt the stabboard. You +start at the raft, and--" + +"Oh, my lordy, lordy! _raf'_? Dey ain' no raf' no mo'; she done broke +loose en gone I--en here we is!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +WELL, I catched my breath and most fainted. Shut up on a wreck with +such a gang as that! But it warn't no time to be sentimentering. We'd +_got_ to find that boat now--had to have it for ourselves. So we went +a-quaking and shaking down the stabboard side, and slow work it was, +too--seemed a week before we got to the stern. No sign of a boat. Jim +said he didn't believe he could go any further--so scared he hadn't +hardly any strength left, he said. But I said, come on, if we get left +on this wreck we are in a fix, sure. So on we prowled again. We struck +for the stern of the texas, and found it, and then scrabbled along +forwards on the skylight, hanging on from shutter to shutter, for the +edge of the skylight was in the water. When we got pretty close to the +cross-hall door there was the skiff, sure enough! I could just barely +see her. I felt ever so thankful. In another second I would a been +aboard of her, but just then the door opened. One of the men stuck his +head out only about a couple of foot from me, and I thought I was gone; +but he jerked it in again, and says: + +"Heave that blame lantern out o' sight, Bill!" + +He flung a bag of something into the boat, and then got in himself and +set down. It was Packard. Then Bill _he_ come out and got in. Packard +says, in a low voice: + +"All ready--shove off!" + +I couldn't hardly hang on to the shutters, I was so weak. But Bill +says: + +"Hold on--'d you go through him?" + +"No. Didn't you?" + +"No. So he's got his share o' the cash yet." + +"Well, then, come along; no use to take truck and leave money." + +"Say, won't he suspicion what we're up to?" + +"Maybe he won't. But we got to have it anyway. Come along." + +So they got out and went in. + +The door slammed to because it was on the careened side; and in a half +second I was in the boat, and Jim come tumbling after me. I out with my +knife and cut the rope, and away we went! + +We didn't touch an oar, and we didn't speak nor whisper, nor hardly even +breathe. We went gliding swift along, dead silent, past the tip of the +paddle-box, and past the stern; then in a second or two more we was a +hundred yards below the wreck, and the darkness soaked her up, every +last sign of her, and we was safe, and knowed it. + +When we was three or four hundred yards down-stream we see the lantern +show like a little spark at the texas door for a second, and we knowed +by that that the rascals had missed their boat, and was beginning to +understand that they was in just as much trouble now as Jim Turner was. + +Then Jim manned the oars, and we took out after our raft. Now was the +first time that I begun to worry about the men--I reckon I hadn't +had time to before. I begun to think how dreadful it was, even for +murderers, to be in such a fix. I says to myself, there ain't no +telling but I might come to be a murderer myself yet, and then how would +I like it? So says I to Jim: + +"The first light we see we'll land a hundred yards below it or above +it, in a place where it's a good hiding-place for you and the skiff, and +then I'll go and fix up some kind of a yarn, and get somebody to go for +that gang and get them out of their scrape, so they can be hung when +their time comes." + +But that idea was a failure; for pretty soon it begun to storm again, +and this time worse than ever. The rain poured down, and never a light +showed; everybody in bed, I reckon. We boomed along down the river, +watching for lights and watching for our raft. After a long time the +rain let up, but the clouds stayed, and the lightning kept whimpering, +and by and by a flash showed us a black thing ahead, floating, and we +made for it. + +It was the raft, and mighty glad was we to get aboard of it again. We +seen a light now away down to the right, on shore. So I said I would +go for it. The skiff was half full of plunder which that gang had stole +there on the wreck. We hustled it on to the raft in a pile, and I told +Jim to float along down, and show a light when he judged he had gone +about two mile, and keep it burning till I come; then I manned my oars +and shoved for the light. As I got down towards it three or four more +showed--up on a hillside. It was a village. I closed in above the shore +light, and laid on my oars and floated. As I went by I see it was a +lantern hanging on the jackstaff of a double-hull ferryboat. I skimmed +around for the watchman, a-wondering whereabouts he slept; and by and +by I found him roosting on the bitts forward, with his head down between +his knees. I gave his shoulder two or three little shoves, and begun to +cry. + +He stirred up in a kind of a startlish way; but when he see it was only +me he took a good gap and stretch, and then he says: + +"Hello, what's up? Don't cry, bub. What's the trouble?" + +I says: + +"Pap, and mam, and sis, and--" + +Then I broke down. He says: + +"Oh, dang it now, _don't_ take on so; we all has to have our troubles, +and this 'n 'll come out all right. What's the matter with 'em?" + +"They're--they're--are you the watchman of the boat?" + +"Yes," he says, kind of pretty-well-satisfied like. "I'm the captain +and the owner and the mate and the pilot and watchman and head +deck-hand; and sometimes I'm the freight and passengers. I ain't as +rich as old Jim Hornback, and I can't be so blame' generous and good +to Tom, Dick, and Harry as what he is, and slam around money the way he +does; but I've told him a many a time 't I wouldn't trade places with +him; for, says I, a sailor's life's the life for me, and I'm derned if +_I'd_ live two mile out o' town, where there ain't nothing ever goin' +on, not for all his spondulicks and as much more on top of it. Says I--" + +I broke in and says: + +"They're in an awful peck of trouble, and--" + +"_Who_ is?" + +"Why, pap and mam and sis and Miss Hooker; and if you'd take your +ferryboat and go up there--" + +"Up where? Where are they?" + +"On the wreck." + +"What wreck?" + +"Why, there ain't but one." + +"What, you don't mean the Walter Scott?" + +"Yes." + +"Good land! what are they doin' _there_, for gracious sakes?" + +"Well, they didn't go there a-purpose." + +"I bet they didn't! Why, great goodness, there ain't no chance for 'em +if they don't git off mighty quick! Why, how in the nation did they +ever git into such a scrape?" + +"Easy enough. Miss Hooker was a-visiting up there to the town--" + +"Yes, Booth's Landing--go on." + +"She was a-visiting there at Booth's Landing, and just in the edge of +the evening she started over with her nigger woman in the horse-ferry +to stay all night at her friend's house, Miss What-you-may-call-her I +disremember her name--and they lost their steering-oar, and swung +around and went a-floating down, stern first, about two mile, and +saddle-baggsed on the wreck, and the ferryman and the nigger woman and +the horses was all lost, but Miss Hooker she made a grab and got aboard +the wreck. Well, about an hour after dark we come along down in our +trading-scow, and it was so dark we didn't notice the wreck till we was +right on it; and so _we_ saddle-baggsed; but all of us was saved but +Bill Whipple--and oh, he _was_ the best cretur!--I most wish 't it had +been me, I do." + +"My George! It's the beatenest thing I ever struck. And _then_ what +did you all do?" + +"Well, we hollered and took on, but it's so wide there we couldn't +make nobody hear. So pap said somebody got to get ashore and get help +somehow. I was the only one that could swim, so I made a dash for it, +and Miss Hooker she said if I didn't strike help sooner, come here and +hunt up her uncle, and he'd fix the thing. I made the land about a mile +below, and been fooling along ever since, trying to get people to do +something, but they said, 'What, in such a night and such a current? +There ain't no sense in it; go for the steam ferry.' Now if you'll go +and--" + +"By Jackson, I'd _like_ to, and, blame it, I don't know but I will; but +who in the dingnation's a-going' to _pay_ for it? Do you reckon your +pap--" + +"Why _that's_ all right. Miss Hooker she tole me, _particular_, that +her uncle Hornback--" + +"Great guns! is _he_ her uncle? Looky here, you break for that light +over yonder-way, and turn out west when you git there, and about a +quarter of a mile out you'll come to the tavern; tell 'em to dart you +out to Jim Hornback's, and he'll foot the bill. And don't you fool +around any, because he'll want to know the news. Tell him I'll have +his niece all safe before he can get to town. Hump yourself, now; I'm +a-going up around the corner here to roust out my engineer." + +I struck for the light, but as soon as he turned the corner I went back +and got into my skiff and bailed her out, and then pulled up shore in +the easy water about six hundred yards, and tucked myself in among +some woodboats; for I couldn't rest easy till I could see the ferryboat +start. But take it all around, I was feeling ruther comfortable on +accounts of taking all this trouble for that gang, for not many would +a done it. I wished the widow knowed about it. I judged she would be +proud of me for helping these rapscallions, because rapscallions and +dead beats is the kind the widow and good people takes the most interest +in. + +Well, before long here comes the wreck, dim and dusky, sliding along +down! A kind of cold shiver went through me, and then I struck out for +her. She was very deep, and I see in a minute there warn't much chance +for anybody being alive in her. I pulled all around her and hollered +a little, but there wasn't any answer; all dead still. I felt a little +bit heavy-hearted about the gang, but not much, for I reckoned if they +could stand it I could. + +Then here comes the ferryboat; so I shoved for the middle of the river +on a long down-stream slant; and when I judged I was out of eye-reach +I laid on my oars, and looked back and see her go and smell around the +wreck for Miss Hooker's remainders, because the captain would know her +uncle Hornback would want them; and then pretty soon the ferryboat give +it up and went for the shore, and I laid into my work and went a-booming +down the river. + +It did seem a powerful long time before Jim's light showed up; and when +it did show it looked like it was a thousand mile off. By the time I +got there the sky was beginning to get a little gray in the east; so we +struck for an island, and hid the raft, and sunk the skiff, and turned +in and slept like dead people. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +BY and by, when we got up, we turned over the truck the gang had stole +off of the wreck, and found boots, and blankets, and clothes, and all +sorts of other things, and a lot of books, and a spyglass, and three +boxes of seegars. We hadn't ever been this rich before in neither of +our lives. The seegars was prime. We laid off all the afternoon in the +woods talking, and me reading the books, and having a general good +time. I told Jim all about what happened inside the wreck and at the +ferryboat, and I said these kinds of things was adventures; but he said +he didn't want no more adventures. He said that when I went in the +texas and he crawled back to get on the raft and found her gone he +nearly died, because he judged it was all up with _him_ anyway it could +be fixed; for if he didn't get saved he would get drownded; and if he +did get saved, whoever saved him would send him back home so as to get +the reward, and then Miss Watson would sell him South, sure. Well, he +was right; he was most always right; he had an uncommon level head for a +nigger. + +I read considerable to Jim about kings and dukes and earls and such, and +how gaudy they dressed, and how much style they put on, and called each +other your majesty, and your grace, and your lordship, and so on, 'stead +of mister; and Jim's eyes bugged out, and he was interested. He says: + +"I didn' know dey was so many un um. I hain't hearn 'bout none un um, +skasely, but ole King Sollermun, onless you counts dem kings dat's in a +pack er k'yards. How much do a king git?" + +"Get?" I says; "why, they get a thousand dollars a month if they want +it; they can have just as much as they want; everything belongs to +them." + +"_Ain'_ dat gay? En what dey got to do, Huck?" + +"_They_ don't do nothing! Why, how you talk! They just set around." + +"No; is dat so?" + +"Of course it is. They just set around--except, maybe, when there's a +war; then they go to the war. But other times they just lazy around; or +go hawking--just hawking and sp--Sh!--d' you hear a noise?" + +We skipped out and looked; but it warn't nothing but the flutter of a +steamboat's wheel away down, coming around the point; so we come back. + +"Yes," says I, "and other times, when things is dull, they fuss with the +parlyment; and if everybody don't go just so he whacks their heads off. +But mostly they hang round the harem." + +"Roun' de which?" + +"Harem." + +"What's de harem?" + +"The place where he keeps his wives. Don't you know about the harem? +Solomon had one; he had about a million wives." + +"Why, yes, dat's so; I--I'd done forgot it. A harem's a bo'd'n-house, I +reck'n. Mos' likely dey has rackety times in de nussery. En I reck'n +de wives quarrels considable; en dat 'crease de racket. Yit dey say +Sollermun de wises' man dat ever live'. I doan' take no stock in +dat. Bekase why: would a wise man want to live in de mids' er sich a +blim-blammin' all de time? No--'deed he wouldn't. A wise man 'ud take +en buil' a biler-factry; en den he could shet _down_ de biler-factry +when he want to res'." + +"Well, but he _was_ the wisest man, anyway; because the widow she told +me so, her own self." + +"I doan k'yer what de widder say, he _warn't_ no wise man nuther. He +had some er de dad-fetchedes' ways I ever see. Does you know 'bout dat +chile dat he 'uz gwyne to chop in two?" + +"Yes, the widow told me all about it." + +"_Well_, den! Warn' dat de beatenes' notion in de worl'? You jes' +take en look at it a minute. Dah's de stump, dah--dat's one er de women; +heah's you--dat's de yuther one; I's Sollermun; en dish yer dollar bill's +de chile. Bofe un you claims it. What does I do? Does I shin aroun' +mongs' de neighbors en fine out which un you de bill _do_ b'long to, en +han' it over to de right one, all safe en soun', de way dat anybody dat +had any gumption would? No; I take en whack de bill in _two_, en give +half un it to you, en de yuther half to de yuther woman. Dat's de way +Sollermun was gwyne to do wid de chile. Now I want to ast you: what's +de use er dat half a bill?--can't buy noth'n wid it. En what use is a +half a chile? I wouldn' give a dern for a million un um." + +"But hang it, Jim, you've clean missed the point--blame it, you've missed +it a thousand mile." + +"Who? Me? Go 'long. Doan' talk to me 'bout yo' pints. I reck'n I +knows sense when I sees it; en dey ain' no sense in sich doin's as +dat. De 'spute warn't 'bout a half a chile, de 'spute was 'bout a whole +chile; en de man dat think he kin settle a 'spute 'bout a whole chile +wid a half a chile doan' know enough to come in out'n de rain. Doan' +talk to me 'bout Sollermun, Huck, I knows him by de back." + +"But I tell you you don't get the point." + +"Blame de point! I reck'n I knows what I knows. En mine you, de _real_ +pint is down furder--it's down deeper. It lays in de way Sollermun was +raised. You take a man dat's got on'y one or two chillen; is dat man +gwyne to be waseful o' chillen? No, he ain't; he can't 'ford it. _He_ +know how to value 'em. But you take a man dat's got 'bout five million +chillen runnin' roun' de house, en it's diffunt. _He_ as soon chop a +chile in two as a cat. Dey's plenty mo'. A chile er two, mo' er less, +warn't no consekens to Sollermun, dad fatch him!" + +I never see such a nigger. If he got a notion in his head once, there +warn't no getting it out again. He was the most down on Solomon of +any nigger I ever see. So I went to talking about other kings, and let +Solomon slide. I told about Louis Sixteenth that got his head cut off +in France long time ago; and about his little boy the dolphin, that +would a been a king, but they took and shut him up in jail, and some say +he died there. + +"Po' little chap." + +"But some says he got out and got away, and come to America." + +"Dat's good! But he'll be pooty lonesome--dey ain' no kings here, is +dey, Huck?" + +"No." + +"Den he cain't git no situation. What he gwyne to do?" + +"Well, I don't know. Some of them gets on the police, and some of them +learns people how to talk French." + +"Why, Huck, doan' de French people talk de same way we does?" + +"_No_, Jim; you couldn't understand a word they said--not a single word." + +"Well, now, I be ding-busted! How do dat come?" + +"I don't know; but it's so. I got some of their jabber out of a book. +S'pose a man was to come to you and say Polly-voo-franzy--what would you +think?" + +"I wouldn' think nuff'n; I'd take en bust him over de head--dat is, if he +warn't white. I wouldn't 'low no nigger to call me dat." + +"Shucks, it ain't calling you anything. It's only saying, do you know +how to talk French?" + +"Well, den, why couldn't he _say_ it?" + +"Why, he _is_ a-saying it. That's a Frenchman's _way_ of saying it." + +"Well, it's a blame ridicklous way, en I doan' want to hear no mo' 'bout +it. Dey ain' no sense in it." + +"Looky here, Jim; does a cat talk like we do?" + +"No, a cat don't." + +"Well, does a cow?" + +"No, a cow don't, nuther." + +"Does a cat talk like a cow, or a cow talk like a cat?" + +"No, dey don't." + +"It's natural and right for 'em to talk different from each other, ain't +it?" + +"Course." + +"And ain't it natural and right for a cat and a cow to talk different +from _us_?" + +"Why, mos' sholy it is." + +"Well, then, why ain't it natural and right for a _Frenchman_ to talk +different from us? You answer me that." + +"Is a cat a man, Huck?" + +"No." + +"Well, den, dey ain't no sense in a cat talkin' like a man. Is a cow a +man?--er is a cow a cat?" + +"No, she ain't either of them." + +"Well, den, she ain't got no business to talk like either one er the +yuther of 'em. Is a Frenchman a man?" + +"Yes." + +"_Well_, den! Dad blame it, why doan' he _talk_ like a man? You answer +me _dat_!" + +I see it warn't no use wasting words--you can't learn a nigger to argue. +So I quit. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +WE judged that three nights more would fetch us to Cairo, at the bottom +of Illinois, where the Ohio River comes in, and that was what we was +after. We would sell the raft and get on a steamboat and go way up the +Ohio amongst the free States, and then be out of trouble. + +Well, the second night a fog begun to come on, and we made for a towhead +to tie to, for it wouldn't do to try to run in a fog; but when I paddled +ahead in the canoe, with the line to make fast, there warn't anything +but little saplings to tie to. I passed the line around one of them +right on the edge of the cut bank, but there was a stiff current, and +the raft come booming down so lively she tore it out by the roots and +away she went. I see the fog closing down, and it made me so sick and +scared I couldn't budge for most a half a minute it seemed to me--and +then there warn't no raft in sight; you couldn't see twenty yards. I +jumped into the canoe and run back to the stern, and grabbed the paddle +and set her back a stroke. But she didn't come. I was in such a hurry +I hadn't untied her. I got up and tried to untie her, but I was so +excited my hands shook so I couldn't hardly do anything with them. + +As soon as I got started I took out after the raft, hot and heavy, right +down the towhead. That was all right as far as it went, but the towhead +warn't sixty yards long, and the minute I flew by the foot of it I shot +out into the solid white fog, and hadn't no more idea which way I was +going than a dead man. + +Thinks I, it won't do to paddle; first I know I'll run into the bank +or a towhead or something; I got to set still and float, and yet it's +mighty fidgety business to have to hold your hands still at such a time. + I whooped and listened. Away down there somewheres I hears a small +whoop, and up comes my spirits. I went tearing after it, listening +sharp to hear it again. The next time it come I see I warn't heading +for it, but heading away to the right of it. And the next time I was +heading away to the left of it--and not gaining on it much either, for +I was flying around, this way and that and t'other, but it was going +straight ahead all the time. + +I did wish the fool would think to beat a tin pan, and beat it all the +time, but he never did, and it was the still places between the whoops +that was making the trouble for me. Well, I fought along, and directly +I hears the whoop _behind_ me. I was tangled good now. That was +somebody else's whoop, or else I was turned around. + +I throwed the paddle down. I heard the whoop again; it was behind me +yet, but in a different place; it kept coming, and kept changing its +place, and I kept answering, till by and by it was in front of me again, +and I knowed the current had swung the canoe's head down-stream, and I +was all right if that was Jim and not some other raftsman hollering. + I couldn't tell nothing about voices in a fog, for nothing don't look +natural nor sound natural in a fog. + +The whooping went on, and in about a minute I come a-booming down on a +cut bank with smoky ghosts of big trees on it, and the current throwed +me off to the left and shot by, amongst a lot of snags that fairly +roared, the currrent was tearing by them so swift. + +In another second or two it was solid white and still again. I set +perfectly still then, listening to my heart thump, and I reckon I didn't +draw a breath while it thumped a hundred. + +I just give up then. I knowed what the matter was. That cut bank +was an island, and Jim had gone down t'other side of it. It warn't no +towhead that you could float by in ten minutes. It had the big timber +of a regular island; it might be five or six miles long and more than +half a mile wide. + +I kept quiet, with my ears cocked, about fifteen minutes, I reckon. I +was floating along, of course, four or five miles an hour; but you don't +ever think of that. No, you _feel_ like you are laying dead still on +the water; and if a little glimpse of a snag slips by you don't think to +yourself how fast _you're_ going, but you catch your breath and think, +my! how that snag's tearing along. If you think it ain't dismal and +lonesome out in a fog that way by yourself in the night, you try it +once--you'll see. + +Next, for about a half an hour, I whoops now and then; at last I hears +the answer a long ways off, and tries to follow it, but I couldn't do +it, and directly I judged I'd got into a nest of towheads, for I had +little dim glimpses of them on both sides of me--sometimes just a narrow +channel between, and some that I couldn't see I knowed was there because +I'd hear the wash of the current against the old dead brush and trash +that hung over the banks. Well, I warn't long loosing the whoops down +amongst the towheads; and I only tried to chase them a little while, +anyway, because it was worse than chasing a Jack-o'-lantern. You never +knowed a sound dodge around so, and swap places so quick and so much. + +I had to claw away from the bank pretty lively four or five times, to +keep from knocking the islands out of the river; and so I judged the +raft must be butting into the bank every now and then, or else it would +get further ahead and clear out of hearing--it was floating a little +faster than what I was. + +Well, I seemed to be in the open river again by and by, but I couldn't +hear no sign of a whoop nowheres. I reckoned Jim had fetched up on a +snag, maybe, and it was all up with him. I was good and tired, so I +laid down in the canoe and said I wouldn't bother no more. I didn't +want to go to sleep, of course; but I was so sleepy I couldn't help it; +so I thought I would take jest one little cat-nap. + +But I reckon it was more than a cat-nap, for when I waked up the stars +was shining bright, the fog was all gone, and I was spinning down a +big bend stern first. First I didn't know where I was; I thought I was +dreaming; and when things began to come back to me they seemed to come +up dim out of last week. + +It was a monstrous big river here, with the tallest and the thickest +kind of timber on both banks; just a solid wall, as well as I could see +by the stars. I looked away down-stream, and seen a black speck on the +water. I took after it; but when I got to it it warn't nothing but a +couple of sawlogs made fast together. Then I see another speck, and +chased that; then another, and this time I was right. It was the raft. + +When I got to it Jim was setting there with his head down between his +knees, asleep, with his right arm hanging over the steering-oar. The +other oar was smashed off, and the raft was littered up with leaves and +branches and dirt. So she'd had a rough time. + +I made fast and laid down under Jim's nose on the raft, and began to +gap, and stretch my fists out against Jim, and says: + +"Hello, Jim, have I been asleep? Why didn't you stir me up?" + +"Goodness gracious, is dat you, Huck? En you ain' dead--you ain' +drownded--you's back agin? It's too good for true, honey, it's too good +for true. Lemme look at you chile, lemme feel o' you. No, you ain' +dead! you's back agin, 'live en soun', jis de same ole Huck--de same ole +Huck, thanks to goodness!" + +"What's the matter with you, Jim? You been a-drinking?" + +"Drinkin'? Has I ben a-drinkin'? Has I had a chance to be a-drinkin'?" + +"Well, then, what makes you talk so wild?" + +"How does I talk wild?" + +"_How_? Why, hain't you been talking about my coming back, and all that +stuff, as if I'd been gone away?" + +"Huck--Huck Finn, you look me in de eye; look me in de eye. _Hain't_ you +ben gone away?" + +"Gone away? Why, what in the nation do you mean? I hain't been gone +anywheres. Where would I go to?" + +"Well, looky here, boss, dey's sumf'n wrong, dey is. Is I _me_, or who +_is_ I? Is I heah, or whah _is_ I? Now dat's what I wants to know." + +"Well, I think you're here, plain enough, but I think you're a +tangle-headed old fool, Jim." + +"I is, is I? Well, you answer me dis: Didn't you tote out de line in +de canoe fer to make fas' to de tow-head?" + +"No, I didn't. What tow-head? I hain't see no tow-head." + +"You hain't seen no towhead? Looky here, didn't de line pull loose en +de raf' go a-hummin' down de river, en leave you en de canoe behine in +de fog?" + +"What fog?" + +"Why, de fog!--de fog dat's been aroun' all night. En didn't you whoop, +en didn't I whoop, tell we got mix' up in de islands en one un us got +los' en t'other one was jis' as good as los', 'kase he didn' know whah +he wuz? En didn't I bust up agin a lot er dem islands en have a turrible +time en mos' git drownded? Now ain' dat so, boss--ain't it so? You +answer me dat." + +"Well, this is too many for me, Jim. I hain't seen no fog, nor no +islands, nor no troubles, nor nothing. I been setting here talking with +you all night till you went to sleep about ten minutes ago, and I reckon +I done the same. You couldn't a got drunk in that time, so of course +you've been dreaming." + +"Dad fetch it, how is I gwyne to dream all dat in ten minutes?" + +"Well, hang it all, you did dream it, because there didn't any of it +happen." + +"But, Huck, it's all jis' as plain to me as--" + +"It don't make no difference how plain it is; there ain't nothing in it. +I know, because I've been here all the time." + +Jim didn't say nothing for about five minutes, but set there studying +over it. Then he says: + +"Well, den, I reck'n I did dream it, Huck; but dog my cats ef it ain't +de powerfullest dream I ever see. En I hain't ever had no dream b'fo' +dat's tired me like dis one." + +"Oh, well, that's all right, because a dream does tire a body like +everything sometimes. But this one was a staving dream; tell me all +about it, Jim." + +So Jim went to work and told me the whole thing right through, just as +it happened, only he painted it up considerable. Then he said he must +start in and "'terpret" it, because it was sent for a warning. He said +the first towhead stood for a man that would try to do us some good, but +the current was another man that would get us away from him. The whoops +was warnings that would come to us every now and then, and if we didn't +try hard to make out to understand them they'd just take us into bad +luck, 'stead of keeping us out of it. The lot of towheads was troubles +we was going to get into with quarrelsome people and all kinds of mean +folks, but if we minded our business and didn't talk back and aggravate +them, we would pull through and get out of the fog and into the big +clear river, which was the free States, and wouldn't have no more +trouble. + +It had clouded up pretty dark just after I got on to the raft, but it +was clearing up again now. + +"Oh, well, that's all interpreted well enough as far as it goes, Jim," I +says; "but what does _these_ things stand for?" + +It was the leaves and rubbish on the raft and the smashed oar. You +could see them first-rate now. + +Jim looked at the trash, and then looked at me, and back at the trash +again. He had got the dream fixed so strong in his head that he +couldn't seem to shake it loose and get the facts back into its place +again right away. But when he did get the thing straightened around he +looked at me steady without ever smiling, and says: + +"What do dey stan' for? I'se gwyne to tell you. When I got all wore +out wid work, en wid de callin' for you, en went to sleep, my heart wuz +mos' broke bekase you wuz los', en I didn' k'yer no' mo' what become +er me en de raf'. En when I wake up en fine you back agin, all safe +en soun', de tears come, en I could a got down on my knees en kiss yo' +foot, I's so thankful. En all you wuz thinkin' 'bout wuz how you could +make a fool uv ole Jim wid a lie. Dat truck dah is _trash_; en trash +is what people is dat puts dirt on de head er dey fren's en makes 'em +ashamed." + +Then he got up slow and walked to the wigwam, and went in there without +saying anything but that. But that was enough. It made me feel so mean +I could almost kissed _his_ foot to get him to take it back. + +It was fifteen minutes before I could work myself up to go and humble +myself to a nigger; but I done it, and I warn't ever sorry for it +afterwards, neither. I didn't do him no more mean tricks, and I +wouldn't done that one if I'd a knowed it would make him feel that way. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +WE slept most all day, and started out at night, a little ways behind a +monstrous long raft that was as long going by as a procession. She had +four long sweeps at each end, so we judged she carried as many as thirty +men, likely. She had five big wigwams aboard, wide apart, and an open +camp fire in the middle, and a tall flag-pole at each end. There was a +power of style about her. It _amounted_ to something being a raftsman +on such a craft as that. + +We went drifting down into a big bend, and the night clouded up and got +hot. The river was very wide, and was walled with solid timber on +both sides; you couldn't see a break in it hardly ever, or a light. We +talked about Cairo, and wondered whether we would know it when we got to +it. I said likely we wouldn't, because I had heard say there warn't but +about a dozen houses there, and if they didn't happen to have them lit +up, how was we going to know we was passing a town? Jim said if the two +big rivers joined together there, that would show. But I said maybe +we might think we was passing the foot of an island and coming into the +same old river again. That disturbed Jim--and me too. So the question +was, what to do? I said, paddle ashore the first time a light showed, +and tell them pap was behind, coming along with a trading-scow, and +was a green hand at the business, and wanted to know how far it was to +Cairo. Jim thought it was a good idea, so we took a smoke on it and +waited. + +There warn't nothing to do now but to look out sharp for the town, and +not pass it without seeing it. He said he'd be mighty sure to see it, +because he'd be a free man the minute he seen it, but if he missed it +he'd be in a slave country again and no more show for freedom. Every +little while he jumps up and says: + +"Dah she is?" + +But it warn't. It was Jack-o'-lanterns, or lightning bugs; so he set +down again, and went to watching, same as before. Jim said it made him +all over trembly and feverish to be so close to freedom. Well, I can +tell you it made me all over trembly and feverish, too, to hear him, +because I begun to get it through my head that he _was_ most free--and +who was to blame for it? Why, _me_. I couldn't get that out of my +conscience, no how nor no way. It got to troubling me so I couldn't +rest; I couldn't stay still in one place. It hadn't ever come home to +me before, what this thing was that I was doing. But now it did; and it +stayed with me, and scorched me more and more. I tried to make out to +myself that I warn't to blame, because I didn't run Jim off from his +rightful owner; but it warn't no use, conscience up and says, every +time, "But you knowed he was running for his freedom, and you could a +paddled ashore and told somebody." That was so--I couldn't get around +that noway. That was where it pinched. Conscience says to me, "What +had poor Miss Watson done to you that you could see her nigger go off +right under your eyes and never say one single word? What did that poor +old woman do to you that you could treat her so mean? Why, she tried to +learn you your book, she tried to learn you your manners, she tried to +be good to you every way she knowed how. _That's_ what she done." + +I got to feeling so mean and so miserable I most wished I was dead. I +fidgeted up and down the raft, abusing myself to myself, and Jim was +fidgeting up and down past me. We neither of us could keep still. + Every time he danced around and says, "Dah's Cairo!" it went through me +like a shot, and I thought if it _was_ Cairo I reckoned I would die of +miserableness. + +Jim talked out loud all the time while I was talking to myself. He was +saying how the first thing he would do when he got to a free State he +would go to saving up money and never spend a single cent, and when he +got enough he would buy his wife, which was owned on a farm close to +where Miss Watson lived; and then they would both work to buy the +two children, and if their master wouldn't sell them, they'd get an +Ab'litionist to go and steal them. + +It most froze me to hear such talk. He wouldn't ever dared to talk such +talk in his life before. Just see what a difference it made in him the +minute he judged he was about free. It was according to the old saying, +"Give a nigger an inch and he'll take an ell." Thinks I, this is what +comes of my not thinking. Here was this nigger, which I had as good +as helped to run away, coming right out flat-footed and saying he would +steal his children--children that belonged to a man I didn't even know; a +man that hadn't ever done me no harm. + +I was sorry to hear Jim say that, it was such a lowering of him. My +conscience got to stirring me up hotter than ever, until at last I says +to it, "Let up on me--it ain't too late yet--I'll paddle ashore at the +first light and tell." I felt easy and happy and light as a feather +right off. All my troubles was gone. I went to looking out sharp for a +light, and sort of singing to myself. By and by one showed. Jim sings +out: + +"We's safe, Huck, we's safe! Jump up and crack yo' heels! Dat's de +good ole Cairo at las', I jis knows it!" + +I says: + +"I'll take the canoe and go and see, Jim. It mightn't be, you know." + +He jumped and got the canoe ready, and put his old coat in the bottom +for me to set on, and give me the paddle; and as I shoved off, he says: + +"Pooty soon I'll be a-shout'n' for joy, en I'll say, it's all on +accounts o' Huck; I's a free man, en I couldn't ever ben free ef it +hadn' ben for Huck; Huck done it. Jim won't ever forgit you, Huck; +you's de bes' fren' Jim's ever had; en you's de _only_ fren' ole Jim's +got now." + +I was paddling off, all in a sweat to tell on him; but when he says +this, it seemed to kind of take the tuck all out of me. I went along +slow then, and I warn't right down certain whether I was glad I started +or whether I warn't. When I was fifty yards off, Jim says: + +"Dah you goes, de ole true Huck; de on'y white genlman dat ever kep' his +promise to ole Jim." + +Well, I just felt sick. But I says, I _got_ to do it--I can't get _out_ +of it. Right then along comes a skiff with two men in it with guns, and +they stopped and I stopped. One of them says: + +"What's that yonder?" + +"A piece of a raft," I says. + +"Do you belong on it?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Any men on it?" + +"Only one, sir." + +"Well, there's five niggers run off to-night up yonder, above the head +of the bend. Is your man white or black?" + +I didn't answer up prompt. I tried to, but the words wouldn't come. I +tried for a second or two to brace up and out with it, but I warn't man +enough--hadn't the spunk of a rabbit. I see I was weakening; so I just +give up trying, and up and says: + +"He's white." + +"I reckon we'll go and see for ourselves." + +"I wish you would," says I, "because it's pap that's there, and maybe +you'd help me tow the raft ashore where the light is. He's sick--and so +is mam and Mary Ann." + +"Oh, the devil! we're in a hurry, boy. But I s'pose we've got to. + Come, buckle to your paddle, and let's get along." + +I buckled to my paddle and they laid to their oars. When we had made a +stroke or two, I says: + +"Pap'll be mighty much obleeged to you, I can tell you. Everybody goes +away when I want them to help me tow the raft ashore, and I can't do it +by myself." + +"Well, that's infernal mean. Odd, too. Say, boy, what's the matter +with your father?" + +"It's the--a--the--well, it ain't anything much." + +They stopped pulling. It warn't but a mighty little ways to the raft +now. One says: + +"Boy, that's a lie. What _is_ the matter with your pap? Answer up +square now, and it'll be the better for you." + +"I will, sir, I will, honest--but don't leave us, please. It's +the--the--Gentlemen, if you'll only pull ahead, and let me heave you the +headline, you won't have to come a-near the raft--please do." + +"Set her back, John, set her back!" says one. They backed water. "Keep +away, boy--keep to looard. Confound it, I just expect the wind has +blowed it to us. Your pap's got the small-pox, and you know it precious +well. Why didn't you come out and say so? Do you want to spread it all +over?" + +"Well," says I, a-blubbering, "I've told everybody before, and they just +went away and left us." + +"Poor devil, there's something in that. We are right down sorry for +you, but we--well, hang it, we don't want the small-pox, you see. Look +here, I'll tell you what to do. Don't you try to land by yourself, or +you'll smash everything to pieces. You float along down about twenty +miles, and you'll come to a town on the left-hand side of the river. It +will be long after sun-up then, and when you ask for help you tell them +your folks are all down with chills and fever. Don't be a fool again, +and let people guess what is the matter. Now we're trying to do you a +kindness; so you just put twenty miles between us, that's a good boy. + It wouldn't do any good to land yonder where the light is--it's only a +wood-yard. Say, I reckon your father's poor, and I'm bound to say he's +in pretty hard luck. Here, I'll put a twenty-dollar gold piece on this +board, and you get it when it floats by. I feel mighty mean to leave +you; but my kingdom! it won't do to fool with small-pox, don't you see?" + +"Hold on, Parker," says the other man, "here's a twenty to put on the +board for me. Good-bye, boy; you do as Mr. Parker told you, and you'll +be all right." + +"That's so, my boy--good-bye, good-bye. If you see any runaway niggers +you get help and nab them, and you can make some money by it." + +"Good-bye, sir," says I; "I won't let no runaway niggers get by me if I +can help it." + +They went off and I got aboard the raft, feeling bad and low, because I +knowed very well I had done wrong, and I see it warn't no use for me +to try to learn to do right; a body that don't get _started_ right when +he's little ain't got no show--when the pinch comes there ain't nothing +to back him up and keep him to his work, and so he gets beat. Then I +thought a minute, and says to myself, hold on; s'pose you'd a done right +and give Jim up, would you felt better than what you do now? No, says +I, I'd feel bad--I'd feel just the same way I do now. Well, then, says +I, what's the use you learning to do right when it's troublesome to do +right and ain't no trouble to do wrong, and the wages is just the same? + I was stuck. I couldn't answer that. So I reckoned I wouldn't bother +no more about it, but after this always do whichever come handiest at +the time. + +I went into the wigwam; Jim warn't there. I looked all around; he +warn't anywhere. I says: + +"Jim!" + +"Here I is, Huck. Is dey out o' sight yit? Don't talk loud." + +He was in the river under the stern oar, with just his nose out. I told +him they were out of sight, so he come aboard. He says: + +"I was a-listenin' to all de talk, en I slips into de river en was gwyne +to shove for sho' if dey come aboard. Den I was gwyne to swim to de +raf' agin when dey was gone. But lawsy, how you did fool 'em, Huck! + Dat _wuz_ de smartes' dodge! I tell you, chile, I'spec it save' ole +Jim--ole Jim ain't going to forgit you for dat, honey." + +Then we talked about the money. It was a pretty good raise--twenty +dollars apiece. Jim said we could take deck passage on a steamboat +now, and the money would last us as far as we wanted to go in the free +States. He said twenty mile more warn't far for the raft to go, but he +wished we was already there. + +Towards daybreak we tied up, and Jim was mighty particular about hiding +the raft good. Then he worked all day fixing things in bundles, and +getting all ready to quit rafting. + +That night about ten we hove in sight of the lights of a town away down +in a left-hand bend. + +I went off in the canoe to ask about it. Pretty soon I found a man out +in the river with a skiff, setting a trot-line. I ranged up and says: + +"Mister, is that town Cairo?" + +"Cairo? no. You must be a blame' fool." + +"What town is it, mister?" + +"If you want to know, go and find out. If you stay here botherin' +around me for about a half a minute longer you'll get something you +won't want." + +I paddled to the raft. Jim was awful disappointed, but I said never +mind, Cairo would be the next place, I reckoned. + +We passed another town before daylight, and I was going out again; but +it was high ground, so I didn't go. No high ground about Cairo, Jim +said. I had forgot it. We laid up for the day on a towhead tolerable +close to the left-hand bank. I begun to suspicion something. So did +Jim. I says: + +"Maybe we went by Cairo in the fog that night." + +He says: + +"Doan' le's talk about it, Huck. Po' niggers can't have no luck. I +awluz 'spected dat rattlesnake-skin warn't done wid its work." + +"I wish I'd never seen that snake-skin, Jim--I do wish I'd never laid +eyes on it." + +"It ain't yo' fault, Huck; you didn' know. Don't you blame yo'self +'bout it." + +When it was daylight, here was the clear Ohio water inshore, sure +enough, and outside was the old regular Muddy! So it was all up with +Cairo. + +We talked it all over. It wouldn't do to take to the shore; we couldn't +take the raft up the stream, of course. There warn't no way but to wait +for dark, and start back in the canoe and take the chances. So we slept +all day amongst the cottonwood thicket, so as to be fresh for the work, +and when we went back to the raft about dark the canoe was gone! + +We didn't say a word for a good while. There warn't anything to +say. We both knowed well enough it was some more work of the +rattlesnake-skin; so what was the use to talk about it? It would only +look like we was finding fault, and that would be bound to fetch more +bad luck--and keep on fetching it, too, till we knowed enough to keep +still. + +By and by we talked about what we better do, and found there warn't no +way but just to go along down with the raft till we got a chance to buy +a canoe to go back in. We warn't going to borrow it when there warn't +anybody around, the way pap would do, for that might set people after +us. + +So we shoved out after dark on the raft. + +Anybody that don't believe yet that it's foolishness to handle a +snake-skin, after all that that snake-skin done for us, will believe it +now if they read on and see what more it done for us. + +The place to buy canoes is off of rafts laying up at shore. But we +didn't see no rafts laying up; so we went along during three hours and +more. Well, the night got gray and ruther thick, which is the next +meanest thing to fog. You can't tell the shape of the river, and you +can't see no distance. It got to be very late and still, and then along +comes a steamboat up the river. We lit the lantern, and judged she +would see it. Up-stream boats didn't generly come close to us; they +go out and follow the bars and hunt for easy water under the reefs; but +nights like this they bull right up the channel against the whole river. + +We could hear her pounding along, but we didn't see her good till she +was close. She aimed right for us. Often they do that and try to see +how close they can come without touching; sometimes the wheel bites off +a sweep, and then the pilot sticks his head out and laughs, and thinks +he's mighty smart. Well, here she comes, and we said she was going to +try and shave us; but she didn't seem to be sheering off a bit. She +was a big one, and she was coming in a hurry, too, looking like a black +cloud with rows of glow-worms around it; but all of a sudden she bulged +out, big and scary, with a long row of wide-open furnace doors shining +like red-hot teeth, and her monstrous bows and guards hanging right +over us. There was a yell at us, and a jingling of bells to stop the +engines, a powwow of cussing, and whistling of steam--and as Jim went +overboard on one side and I on the other, she come smashing straight +through the raft. + +I dived--and I aimed to find the bottom, too, for a thirty-foot wheel +had got to go over me, and I wanted it to have plenty of room. I could +always stay under water a minute; this time I reckon I stayed under a +minute and a half. Then I bounced for the top in a hurry, for I was +nearly busting. I popped out to my armpits and blowed the water out of +my nose, and puffed a bit. Of course there was a booming current; and +of course that boat started her engines again ten seconds after she +stopped them, for they never cared much for raftsmen; so now she was +churning along up the river, out of sight in the thick weather, though I +could hear her. + +I sung out for Jim about a dozen times, but I didn't get any answer; +so I grabbed a plank that touched me while I was "treading water," and +struck out for shore, shoving it ahead of me. But I made out to see +that the drift of the current was towards the left-hand shore, which +meant that I was in a crossing; so I changed off and went that way. + +It was one of these long, slanting, two-mile crossings; so I was a good +long time in getting over. I made a safe landing, and clumb up the +bank. I couldn't see but a little ways, but I went poking along over +rough ground for a quarter of a mile or more, and then I run across a +big old-fashioned double log-house before I noticed it. I was going to +rush by and get away, but a lot of dogs jumped out and went to howling +and barking at me, and I knowed better than to move another peg. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +IN about a minute somebody spoke out of a window without putting his +head out, and says: + +"Be done, boys! Who's there?" + +I says: + +"It's me." + +"Who's me?" + +"George Jackson, sir." + +"What do you want?" + +"I don't want nothing, sir. I only want to go along by, but the dogs +won't let me." + +"What are you prowling around here this time of night for--hey?" + +"I warn't prowling around, sir, I fell overboard off of the steamboat." + +"Oh, you did, did you? Strike a light there, somebody. What did you +say your name was?" + +"George Jackson, sir. I'm only a boy." + +"Look here, if you're telling the truth you needn't be afraid--nobody'll +hurt you. But don't try to budge; stand right where you are. Rouse out +Bob and Tom, some of you, and fetch the guns. George Jackson, is there +anybody with you?" + +"No, sir, nobody." + +I heard the people stirring around in the house now, and see a light. +The man sung out: + +"Snatch that light away, Betsy, you old fool--ain't you got any sense? +Put it on the floor behind the front door. Bob, if you and Tom are +ready, take your places." + +"All ready." + +"Now, George Jackson, do you know the Shepherdsons?" + +"No, sir; I never heard of them." + +"Well, that may be so, and it mayn't. Now, all ready. Step forward, +George Jackson. And mind, don't you hurry--come mighty slow. If there's +anybody with you, let him keep back--if he shows himself he'll be shot. +Come along now. Come slow; push the door open yourself--just enough to +squeeze in, d' you hear?" + +I didn't hurry; I couldn't if I'd a wanted to. I took one slow step at +a time and there warn't a sound, only I thought I could hear my heart. + The dogs were as still as the humans, but they followed a little behind +me. When I got to the three log doorsteps I heard them unlocking and +unbarring and unbolting. I put my hand on the door and pushed it a +little and a little more till somebody said, "There, that's enough--put +your head in." I done it, but I judged they would take it off. + +The candle was on the floor, and there they all was, looking at me, and +me at them, for about a quarter of a minute: Three big men with guns +pointed at me, which made me wince, I tell you; the oldest, gray +and about sixty, the other two thirty or more--all of them fine and +handsome--and the sweetest old gray-headed lady, and back of her two +young women which I couldn't see right well. The old gentleman says: + +"There; I reckon it's all right. Come in." + +As soon as I was in the old gentleman he locked the door and barred it +and bolted it, and told the young men to come in with their guns, and +they all went in a big parlor that had a new rag carpet on the floor, +and got together in a corner that was out of the range of the front +windows--there warn't none on the side. They held the candle, and took a +good look at me, and all said, "Why, _he_ ain't a Shepherdson--no, there +ain't any Shepherdson about him." Then the old man said he hoped I +wouldn't mind being searched for arms, because he didn't mean no harm by +it--it was only to make sure. So he didn't pry into my pockets, but only +felt outside with his hands, and said it was all right. He told me to +make myself easy and at home, and tell all about myself; but the old +lady says: + +"Why, bless you, Saul, the poor thing's as wet as he can be; and don't +you reckon it may be he's hungry?" + +"True for you, Rachel--I forgot." + +So the old lady says: + +"Betsy" (this was a nigger woman), "you fly around and get him something +to eat as quick as you can, poor thing; and one of you girls go and wake +up Buck and tell him--oh, here he is himself. Buck, take this little +stranger and get the wet clothes off from him and dress him up in some +of yours that's dry." + +Buck looked about as old as me--thirteen or fourteen or along there, +though he was a little bigger than me. He hadn't on anything but a +shirt, and he was very frowzy-headed. He came in gaping and digging one +fist into his eyes, and he was dragging a gun along with the other one. +He says: + +"Ain't they no Shepherdsons around?" + +They said, no, 'twas a false alarm. + +"Well," he says, "if they'd a ben some, I reckon I'd a got one." + +They all laughed, and Bob says: + +"Why, Buck, they might have scalped us all, you've been so slow in +coming." + +"Well, nobody come after me, and it ain't right I'm always kept down; I +don't get no show." + +"Never mind, Buck, my boy," says the old man, "you'll have show enough, +all in good time, don't you fret about that. Go 'long with you now, and +do as your mother told you." + +When we got up-stairs to his room he got me a coarse shirt and a +roundabout and pants of his, and I put them on. While I was at it he +asked me what my name was, but before I could tell him he started to +tell me about a bluejay and a young rabbit he had catched in the woods +day before yesterday, and he asked me where Moses was when the candle +went out. I said I didn't know; I hadn't heard about it before, no way. + +"Well, guess," he says. + +"How'm I going to guess," says I, "when I never heard tell of it +before?" + +"But you can guess, can't you? It's just as easy." + +"_Which_ candle?" I says. + +"Why, any candle," he says. + +"I don't know where he was," says I; "where was he?" + +"Why, he was in the _dark_! That's where he was!" + +"Well, if you knowed where he was, what did you ask me for?" + +"Why, blame it, it's a riddle, don't you see? Say, how long are you +going to stay here? You got to stay always. We can just have booming +times--they don't have no school now. Do you own a dog? I've got a +dog--and he'll go in the river and bring out chips that you throw in. Do +you like to comb up Sundays, and all that kind of foolishness? You bet +I don't, but ma she makes me. Confound these ole britches! I reckon +I'd better put 'em on, but I'd ruther not, it's so warm. Are you all +ready? All right. Come along, old hoss." + +Cold corn-pone, cold corn-beef, butter and buttermilk--that is what they +had for me down there, and there ain't nothing better that ever I've +come across yet. Buck and his ma and all of them smoked cob pipes, +except the nigger woman, which was gone, and the two young women. They +all smoked and talked, and I eat and talked. The young women had +quilts around them, and their hair down their backs. They all asked me +questions, and I told them how pap and me and all the family was living +on a little farm down at the bottom of Arkansaw, and my sister Mary Ann +run off and got married and never was heard of no more, and Bill went +to hunt them and he warn't heard of no more, and Tom and Mort died, +and then there warn't nobody but just me and pap left, and he was just +trimmed down to nothing, on account of his troubles; so when he died +I took what there was left, because the farm didn't belong to us, and +started up the river, deck passage, and fell overboard; and that was how +I come to be here. So they said I could have a home there as long as I +wanted it. Then it was most daylight and everybody went to bed, and I +went to bed with Buck, and when I waked up in the morning, drat it all, +I had forgot what my name was. So I laid there about an hour trying to +think, and when Buck waked up I says: + +"Can you spell, Buck?" + +"Yes," he says. + +"I bet you can't spell my name," says I. + +"I bet you what you dare I can," says he. + +"All right," says I, "go ahead." + +"G-e-o-r-g-e J-a-x-o-n--there now," he says. + +"Well," says I, "you done it, but I didn't think you could. It ain't no +slouch of a name to spell--right off without studying." + +I set it down, private, because somebody might want _me_ to spell it +next, and so I wanted to be handy with it and rattle it off like I was +used to it. + +It was a mighty nice family, and a mighty nice house, too. I hadn't +seen no house out in the country before that was so nice and had so much +style. It didn't have an iron latch on the front door, nor a wooden one +with a buckskin string, but a brass knob to turn, the same as houses in +town. There warn't no bed in the parlor, nor a sign of a bed; but heaps +of parlors in towns has beds in them. There was a big fireplace that +was bricked on the bottom, and the bricks was kept clean and red by +pouring water on them and scrubbing them with another brick; sometimes +they wash them over with red water-paint that they call Spanish-brown, +same as they do in town. They had big brass dog-irons that could hold +up a saw-log. There was a clock on the middle of the mantelpiece, with +a picture of a town painted on the bottom half of the glass front, and +a round place in the middle of it for the sun, and you could see the +pendulum swinging behind it. It was beautiful to hear that clock tick; +and sometimes when one of these peddlers had been along and scoured her +up and got her in good shape, she would start in and strike a hundred +and fifty before she got tuckered out. They wouldn't took any money for +her. + +Well, there was a big outlandish parrot on each side of the clock, +made out of something like chalk, and painted up gaudy. By one of the +parrots was a cat made of crockery, and a crockery dog by the other; +and when you pressed down on them they squeaked, but didn't open +their mouths nor look different nor interested. They squeaked through +underneath. There was a couple of big wild-turkey-wing fans spread out +behind those things. On the table in the middle of the room was a kind +of a lovely crockery basket that had apples and oranges and peaches and +grapes piled up in it, which was much redder and yellower and prettier +than real ones is, but they warn't real because you could see where +pieces had got chipped off and showed the white chalk, or whatever it +was, underneath. + +This table had a cover made out of beautiful oilcloth, with a red and +blue spread-eagle painted on it, and a painted border all around. It +come all the way from Philadelphia, they said. There was some books, +too, piled up perfectly exact, on each corner of the table. One was a +big family Bible full of pictures. One was Pilgrim's Progress, about a +man that left his family, it didn't say why. I read considerable in it +now and then. The statements was interesting, but tough. Another was +Friendship's Offering, full of beautiful stuff and poetry; but I didn't +read the poetry. Another was Henry Clay's Speeches, and another was Dr. +Gunn's Family Medicine, which told you all about what to do if a body +was sick or dead. There was a hymn book, and a lot of other books. And +there was nice split-bottom chairs, and perfectly sound, too--not bagged +down in the middle and busted, like an old basket. + +They had pictures hung on the walls--mainly Washingtons and Lafayettes, +and battles, and Highland Marys, and one called "Signing the +Declaration." There was some that they called crayons, which one of the +daughters which was dead made her own self when she was only +fifteen years old. They was different from any pictures I ever see +before--blacker, mostly, than is common. One was a woman in a slim black +dress, belted small under the armpits, with bulges like a cabbage in +the middle of the sleeves, and a large black scoop-shovel bonnet with +a black veil, and white slim ankles crossed about with black tape, and +very wee black slippers, like a chisel, and she was leaning pensive on a +tombstone on her right elbow, under a weeping willow, and her other hand +hanging down her side holding a white handkerchief and a reticule, +and underneath the picture it said "Shall I Never See Thee More Alas." + Another one was a young lady with her hair all combed up straight +to the top of her head, and knotted there in front of a comb like a +chair-back, and she was crying into a handkerchief and had a dead bird +laying on its back in her other hand with its heels up, and underneath +the picture it said "I Shall Never Hear Thy Sweet Chirrup More Alas." + There was one where a young lady was at a window looking up at the +moon, and tears running down her cheeks; and she had an open letter in +one hand with black sealing wax showing on one edge of it, and she was +mashing a locket with a chain to it against her mouth, and underneath +the picture it said "And Art Thou Gone Yes Thou Art Gone Alas." These +was all nice pictures, I reckon, but I didn't somehow seem to take +to them, because if ever I was down a little they always give me the +fan-tods. Everybody was sorry she died, because she had laid out a lot +more of these pictures to do, and a body could see by what she had done +what they had lost. But I reckoned that with her disposition she was +having a better time in the graveyard. She was at work on what they +said was her greatest picture when she took sick, and every day and +every night it was her prayer to be allowed to live till she got it +done, but she never got the chance. It was a picture of a young woman +in a long white gown, standing on the rail of a bridge all ready to jump +off, with her hair all down her back, and looking up to the moon, with +the tears running down her face, and she had two arms folded across her +breast, and two arms stretched out in front, and two more reaching up +towards the moon--and the idea was to see which pair would look best, +and then scratch out all the other arms; but, as I was saying, she died +before she got her mind made up, and now they kept this picture over the +head of the bed in her room, and every time her birthday come they hung +flowers on it. Other times it was hid with a little curtain. The young +woman in the picture had a kind of a nice sweet face, but there was so +many arms it made her look too spidery, seemed to me. + +This young girl kept a scrap-book when she was alive, and used to paste +obituaries and accidents and cases of patient suffering in it out of the +Presbyterian Observer, and write poetry after them out of her own head. +It was very good poetry. This is what she wrote about a boy by the name +of Stephen Dowling Bots that fell down a well and was drownded: + +ODE TO STEPHEN DOWLING BOTS, DEC'D + +And did young Stephen sicken, And did young Stephen die? And did the +sad hearts thicken, And did the mourners cry? + +No; such was not the fate of Young Stephen Dowling Bots; Though sad +hearts round him thickened, 'Twas not from sickness' shots. + +No whooping-cough did rack his frame, Nor measles drear with spots; +Not these impaired the sacred name Of Stephen Dowling Bots. + +Despised love struck not with woe That head of curly knots, Nor +stomach troubles laid him low, Young Stephen Dowling Bots. + +O no. Then list with tearful eye, Whilst I his fate do tell. His soul +did from this cold world fly By falling down a well. + +They got him out and emptied him; Alas it was too late; His spirit +was gone for to sport aloft In the realms of the good and great. + +If Emmeline Grangerford could make poetry like that before she was +fourteen, there ain't no telling what she could a done by and by. Buck +said she could rattle off poetry like nothing. She didn't ever have to +stop to think. He said she would slap down a line, and if she couldn't +find anything to rhyme with it would just scratch it out and slap down +another one, and go ahead. She warn't particular; she could write about +anything you choose to give her to write about just so it was sadful. +Every time a man died, or a woman died, or a child died, she would be on +hand with her "tribute" before he was cold. She called them tributes. +The neighbors said it was the doctor first, then Emmeline, then the +undertaker--the undertaker never got in ahead of Emmeline but once, and +then she hung fire on a rhyme for the dead person's name, which was +Whistler. She warn't ever the same after that; she never complained, +but she kinder pined away and did not live long. Poor thing, many's the +time I made myself go up to the little room that used to be hers and get +out her poor old scrap-book and read in it when her pictures had been +aggravating me and I had soured on her a little. I liked all that +family, dead ones and all, and warn't going to let anything come between +us. Poor Emmeline made poetry about all the dead people when she was +alive, and it didn't seem right that there warn't nobody to make some +about her now she was gone; so I tried to sweat out a verse or two +myself, but I couldn't seem to make it go somehow. They kept Emmeline's +room trim and nice, and all the things fixed in it just the way she +liked to have them when she was alive, and nobody ever slept there. + The old lady took care of the room herself, though there was plenty +of niggers, and she sewed there a good deal and read her Bible there +mostly. + +Well, as I was saying about the parlor, there was beautiful curtains on +the windows: white, with pictures painted on them of castles with vines +all down the walls, and cattle coming down to drink. There was a little +old piano, too, that had tin pans in it, I reckon, and nothing was ever +so lovely as to hear the young ladies sing "The Last Link is Broken" +and play "The Battle of Prague" on it. The walls of all the rooms was +plastered, and most had carpets on the floors, and the whole house was +whitewashed on the outside. + +It was a double house, and the big open place betwixt them was roofed +and floored, and sometimes the table was set there in the middle of the +day, and it was a cool, comfortable place. Nothing couldn't be better. + And warn't the cooking good, and just bushels of it too! + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +COL. Grangerford was a gentleman, you see. He was a gentleman all +over; and so was his family. He was well born, as the saying is, and +that's worth as much in a man as it is in a horse, so the Widow Douglas +said, and nobody ever denied that she was of the first aristocracy +in our town; and pap he always said it, too, though he warn't no more +quality than a mudcat himself. Col. Grangerford was very tall and +very slim, and had a darkish-paly complexion, not a sign of red in it +anywheres; he was clean shaved every morning all over his thin face, and +he had the thinnest kind of lips, and the thinnest kind of nostrils, and +a high nose, and heavy eyebrows, and the blackest kind of eyes, sunk so +deep back that they seemed like they was looking out of caverns at +you, as you may say. His forehead was high, and his hair was black and +straight and hung to his shoulders. His hands was long and thin, and +every day of his life he put on a clean shirt and a full suit from head +to foot made out of linen so white it hurt your eyes to look at it; +and on Sundays he wore a blue tail-coat with brass buttons on it. He +carried a mahogany cane with a silver head to it. There warn't no +frivolishness about him, not a bit, and he warn't ever loud. He was +as kind as he could be--you could feel that, you know, and so you had +confidence. Sometimes he smiled, and it was good to see; but when he +straightened himself up like a liberty-pole, and the lightning begun to +flicker out from under his eyebrows, you wanted to climb a tree first, +and find out what the matter was afterwards. He didn't ever have to +tell anybody to mind their manners--everybody was always good-mannered +where he was. Everybody loved to have him around, too; he was sunshine +most always--I mean he made it seem like good weather. When he turned +into a cloudbank it was awful dark for half a minute, and that was +enough; there wouldn't nothing go wrong again for a week. + +When him and the old lady come down in the morning all the family got +up out of their chairs and give them good-day, and didn't set down again +till they had set down. Then Tom and Bob went to the sideboard where +the decanter was, and mixed a glass of bitters and handed it to him, and +he held it in his hand and waited till Tom's and Bob's was mixed, and +then they bowed and said, "Our duty to you, sir, and madam;" and _they_ +bowed the least bit in the world and said thank you, and so they drank, +all three, and Bob and Tom poured a spoonful of water on the sugar and +the mite of whisky or apple brandy in the bottom of their tumblers, and +give it to me and Buck, and we drank to the old people too. + +Bob was the oldest and Tom next--tall, beautiful men with very broad +shoulders and brown faces, and long black hair and black eyes. They +dressed in white linen from head to foot, like the old gentleman, and +wore broad Panama hats. + +Then there was Miss Charlotte; she was twenty-five, and tall and proud +and grand, but as good as she could be when she warn't stirred up; but +when she was she had a look that would make you wilt in your tracks, +like her father. She was beautiful. + +So was her sister, Miss Sophia, but it was a different kind. She was +gentle and sweet like a dove, and she was only twenty. + +Each person had their own nigger to wait on them--Buck too. My nigger +had a monstrous easy time, because I warn't used to having anybody do +anything for me, but Buck's was on the jump most of the time. + +This was all there was of the family now, but there used to be +more--three sons; they got killed; and Emmeline that died. + +The old gentleman owned a lot of farms and over a hundred niggers. +Sometimes a stack of people would come there, horseback, from ten or +fifteen mile around, and stay five or six days, and have such junketings +round about and on the river, and dances and picnics in the woods +daytimes, and balls at the house nights. These people was mostly +kinfolks of the family. The men brought their guns with them. It was a +handsome lot of quality, I tell you. + +There was another clan of aristocracy around there--five or six +families--mostly of the name of Shepherdson. They was as high-toned +and well born and rich and grand as the tribe of Grangerfords. The +Shepherdsons and Grangerfords used the same steamboat landing, which was +about two mile above our house; so sometimes when I went up there with a +lot of our folks I used to see a lot of the Shepherdsons there on their +fine horses. + +One day Buck and me was away out in the woods hunting, and heard a horse +coming. We was crossing the road. Buck says: + +"Quick! Jump for the woods!" + +We done it, and then peeped down the woods through the leaves. Pretty +soon a splendid young man come galloping down the road, setting his +horse easy and looking like a soldier. He had his gun across his +pommel. I had seen him before. It was young Harney Shepherdson. I +heard Buck's gun go off at my ear, and Harney's hat tumbled off from his +head. He grabbed his gun and rode straight to the place where we was +hid. But we didn't wait. We started through the woods on a run. The +woods warn't thick, so I looked over my shoulder to dodge the bullet, +and twice I seen Harney cover Buck with his gun; and then he rode away +the way he come--to get his hat, I reckon, but I couldn't see. We never +stopped running till we got home. The old gentleman's eyes blazed a +minute--'twas pleasure, mainly, I judged--then his face sort of smoothed +down, and he says, kind of gentle: + +"I don't like that shooting from behind a bush. Why didn't you step +into the road, my boy?" + +"The Shepherdsons don't, father. They always take advantage." + +Miss Charlotte she held her head up like a queen while Buck was telling +his tale, and her nostrils spread and her eyes snapped. The two young +men looked dark, but never said nothing. Miss Sophia she turned pale, +but the color come back when she found the man warn't hurt. + +Soon as I could get Buck down by the corn-cribs under the trees by +ourselves, I says: + +"Did you want to kill him, Buck?" + +"Well, I bet I did." + +"What did he do to you?" + +"Him? He never done nothing to me." + +"Well, then, what did you want to kill him for?" + +"Why, nothing--only it's on account of the feud." + +"What's a feud?" + +"Why, where was you raised? Don't you know what a feud is?" + +"Never heard of it before--tell me about it." + +"Well," says Buck, "a feud is this way: A man has a quarrel with +another man, and kills him; then that other man's brother kills _him_; +then the other brothers, on both sides, goes for one another; then the +_cousins_ chip in--and by and by everybody's killed off, and there ain't +no more feud. But it's kind of slow, and takes a long time." + +"Has this one been going on long, Buck?" + +"Well, I should _reckon_! It started thirty year ago, or som'ers along +there. There was trouble 'bout something, and then a lawsuit to settle +it; and the suit went agin one of the men, and so he up and shot the +man that won the suit--which he would naturally do, of course. Anybody +would." + +"What was the trouble about, Buck?--land?" + +"I reckon maybe--I don't know." + +"Well, who done the shooting? Was it a Grangerford or a Shepherdson?" + +"Laws, how do I know? It was so long ago." + +"Don't anybody know?" + +"Oh, yes, pa knows, I reckon, and some of the other old people; but they +don't know now what the row was about in the first place." + +"Has there been many killed, Buck?" + +"Yes; right smart chance of funerals. But they don't always kill. Pa's +got a few buckshot in him; but he don't mind it 'cuz he don't weigh +much, anyway. Bob's been carved up some with a bowie, and Tom's been +hurt once or twice." + +"Has anybody been killed this year, Buck?" + +"Yes; we got one and they got one. 'Bout three months ago my cousin +Bud, fourteen year old, was riding through the woods on t'other side +of the river, and didn't have no weapon with him, which was blame' +foolishness, and in a lonesome place he hears a horse a-coming behind +him, and sees old Baldy Shepherdson a-linkin' after him with his gun in +his hand and his white hair a-flying in the wind; and 'stead of jumping +off and taking to the brush, Bud 'lowed he could out-run him; so they +had it, nip and tuck, for five mile or more, the old man a-gaining all +the time; so at last Bud seen it warn't any use, so he stopped and faced +around so as to have the bullet holes in front, you know, and the old +man he rode up and shot him down. But he didn't git much chance to +enjoy his luck, for inside of a week our folks laid _him_ out." + +"I reckon that old man was a coward, Buck." + +"I reckon he _warn't_ a coward. Not by a blame' sight. There ain't a +coward amongst them Shepherdsons--not a one. And there ain't no cowards +amongst the Grangerfords either. Why, that old man kep' up his end in a +fight one day for half an hour against three Grangerfords, and come +out winner. They was all a-horseback; he lit off of his horse and got +behind a little woodpile, and kep' his horse before him to stop the +bullets; but the Grangerfords stayed on their horses and capered around +the old man, and peppered away at him, and he peppered away at them. + Him and his horse both went home pretty leaky and crippled, but the +Grangerfords had to be _fetched_ home--and one of 'em was dead, and +another died the next day. No, sir; if a body's out hunting for cowards +he don't want to fool away any time amongst them Shepherdsons, becuz +they don't breed any of that _kind_." + +Next Sunday we all went to church, about three mile, everybody +a-horseback. The men took their guns along, so did Buck, and kept +them between their knees or stood them handy against the wall. The +Shepherdsons done the same. It was pretty ornery preaching--all about +brotherly love, and such-like tiresomeness; but everybody said it was +a good sermon, and they all talked it over going home, and had such +a powerful lot to say about faith and good works and free grace and +preforeordestination, and I don't know what all, that it did seem to me +to be one of the roughest Sundays I had run across yet. + +About an hour after dinner everybody was dozing around, some in their +chairs and some in their rooms, and it got to be pretty dull. Buck and +a dog was stretched out on the grass in the sun sound asleep. I went up +to our room, and judged I would take a nap myself. I found that sweet +Miss Sophia standing in her door, which was next to ours, and she took +me in her room and shut the door very soft, and asked me if I liked her, +and I said I did; and she asked me if I would do something for her and +not tell anybody, and I said I would. Then she said she'd forgot her +Testament, and left it in the seat at church between two other books, +and would I slip out quiet and go there and fetch it to her, and not say +nothing to nobody. I said I would. So I slid out and slipped off up the +road, and there warn't anybody at the church, except maybe a hog or two, +for there warn't any lock on the door, and hogs likes a puncheon floor +in summer-time because it's cool. If you notice, most folks don't go to +church only when they've got to; but a hog is different. + +Says I to myself, something's up; it ain't natural for a girl to be in +such a sweat about a Testament. So I give it a shake, and out drops a +little piece of paper with "HALF-PAST TWO" wrote on it with a pencil. I +ransacked it, but couldn't find anything else. I couldn't make anything +out of that, so I put the paper in the book again, and when I got home +and upstairs there was Miss Sophia in her door waiting for me. She +pulled me in and shut the door; then she looked in the Testament till +she found the paper, and as soon as she read it she looked glad; and +before a body could think she grabbed me and give me a squeeze, and +said I was the best boy in the world, and not to tell anybody. She was +mighty red in the face for a minute, and her eyes lighted up, and it +made her powerful pretty. I was a good deal astonished, but when I got +my breath I asked her what the paper was about, and she asked me if I +had read it, and I said no, and she asked me if I could read writing, +and I told her "no, only coarse-hand," and then she said the paper +warn't anything but a book-mark to keep her place, and I might go and +play now. + +I went off down to the river, studying over this thing, and pretty soon +I noticed that my nigger was following along behind. When we was out +of sight of the house he looked back and around a second, and then comes +a-running, and says: + +"Mars Jawge, if you'll come down into de swamp I'll show you a whole +stack o' water-moccasins." + +Thinks I, that's mighty curious; he said that yesterday. He oughter +know a body don't love water-moccasins enough to go around hunting for +them. What is he up to, anyway? So I says: + +"All right; trot ahead." + +I followed a half a mile; then he struck out over the swamp, and waded +ankle deep as much as another half-mile. We come to a little flat piece +of land which was dry and very thick with trees and bushes and vines, +and he says: + +"You shove right in dah jist a few steps, Mars Jawge; dah's whah dey is. +I's seed 'm befo'; I don't k'yer to see 'em no mo'." + +Then he slopped right along and went away, and pretty soon the trees hid +him. I poked into the place a-ways and come to a little open patch +as big as a bedroom all hung around with vines, and found a man laying +there asleep--and, by jings, it was my old Jim! + +I waked him up, and I reckoned it was going to be a grand surprise to +him to see me again, but it warn't. He nearly cried he was so glad, but +he warn't surprised. Said he swum along behind me that night, and heard +me yell every time, but dasn't answer, because he didn't want nobody to +pick _him_ up and take him into slavery again. Says he: + +"I got hurt a little, en couldn't swim fas', so I wuz a considable ways +behine you towards de las'; when you landed I reck'ned I could ketch +up wid you on de lan' 'dout havin' to shout at you, but when I see dat +house I begin to go slow. I 'uz off too fur to hear what dey say to +you--I wuz 'fraid o' de dogs; but when it 'uz all quiet agin I knowed +you's in de house, so I struck out for de woods to wait for day. Early +in de mawnin' some er de niggers come along, gwyne to de fields, en dey +tuk me en showed me dis place, whah de dogs can't track me on accounts +o' de water, en dey brings me truck to eat every night, en tells me how +you's a-gitt'n along." + +"Why didn't you tell my Jack to fetch me here sooner, Jim?" + +"Well, 'twarn't no use to 'sturb you, Huck, tell we could do sumfn--but +we's all right now. I ben a-buyin' pots en pans en vittles, as I got a +chanst, en a-patchin' up de raf' nights when--" + +"_What_ raft, Jim?" + +"Our ole raf'." + +"You mean to say our old raft warn't smashed all to flinders?" + +"No, she warn't. She was tore up a good deal--one en' of her was; but +dey warn't no great harm done, on'y our traps was mos' all los'. Ef we +hadn' dive' so deep en swum so fur under water, en de night hadn' ben +so dark, en we warn't so sk'yerd, en ben sich punkin-heads, as de sayin' +is, we'd a seed de raf'. But it's jis' as well we didn't, 'kase now +she's all fixed up agin mos' as good as new, en we's got a new lot o' +stuff, in de place o' what 'uz los'." + +"Why, how did you get hold of the raft again, Jim--did you catch her?" + +"How I gwyne to ketch her en I out in de woods? No; some er de niggers +foun' her ketched on a snag along heah in de ben', en dey hid her in a +crick 'mongst de willows, en dey wuz so much jawin' 'bout which un 'um +she b'long to de mos' dat I come to heah 'bout it pooty soon, so I ups +en settles de trouble by tellin' 'um she don't b'long to none uv um, but +to you en me; en I ast 'm if dey gwyne to grab a young white genlman's +propaty, en git a hid'n for it? Den I gin 'm ten cents apiece, en dey +'uz mighty well satisfied, en wisht some mo' raf's 'ud come along en +make 'm rich agin. Dey's mighty good to me, dese niggers is, en whatever +I wants 'm to do fur me I doan' have to ast 'm twice, honey. Dat Jack's +a good nigger, en pooty smart." + +"Yes, he is. He ain't ever told me you was here; told me to come, and +he'd show me a lot of water-moccasins. If anything happens _he_ ain't +mixed up in it. He can say he never seen us together, and it 'll be the +truth." + +I don't want to talk much about the next day. I reckon I'll cut it +pretty short. I waked up about dawn, and was a-going to turn over and +go to sleep again when I noticed how still it was--didn't seem to be +anybody stirring. That warn't usual. Next I noticed that Buck was +up and gone. Well, I gets up, a-wondering, and goes down stairs--nobody +around; everything as still as a mouse. Just the same outside. Thinks +I, what does it mean? Down by the wood-pile I comes across my Jack, and +says: + +"What's it all about?" + +Says he: + +"Don't you know, Mars Jawge?" + +"No," says I, "I don't." + +"Well, den, Miss Sophia's run off! 'deed she has. She run off in de +night some time--nobody don't know jis' when; run off to get married +to dat young Harney Shepherdson, you know--leastways, so dey 'spec. De +fambly foun' it out 'bout half an hour ago--maybe a little mo'--en' I +_tell_ you dey warn't no time los'. Sich another hurryin' up guns +en hosses _you_ never see! De women folks has gone for to stir up de +relations, en ole Mars Saul en de boys tuck dey guns en rode up de +river road for to try to ketch dat young man en kill him 'fo' he kin +git acrost de river wid Miss Sophia. I reck'n dey's gwyne to be mighty +rough times." + +"Buck went off 'thout waking me up." + +"Well, I reck'n he _did_! Dey warn't gwyne to mix you up in it. + Mars Buck he loaded up his gun en 'lowed he's gwyne to fetch home a +Shepherdson or bust. Well, dey'll be plenty un 'm dah, I reck'n, en you +bet you he'll fetch one ef he gits a chanst." + +I took up the river road as hard as I could put. By and by I begin to +hear guns a good ways off. When I come in sight of the log store and +the woodpile where the steamboats lands I worked along under the trees +and brush till I got to a good place, and then I clumb up into the +forks of a cottonwood that was out of reach, and watched. There was a +wood-rank four foot high a little ways in front of the tree, and first I +was going to hide behind that; but maybe it was luckier I didn't. + +There was four or five men cavorting around on their horses in the open +place before the log store, cussing and yelling, and trying to get at +a couple of young chaps that was behind the wood-rank alongside of the +steamboat landing; but they couldn't come it. Every time one of them +showed himself on the river side of the woodpile he got shot at. The +two boys was squatting back to back behind the pile, so they could watch +both ways. + +By and by the men stopped cavorting around and yelling. They started +riding towards the store; then up gets one of the boys, draws a steady +bead over the wood-rank, and drops one of them out of his saddle. All +the men jumped off of their horses and grabbed the hurt one and started +to carry him to the store; and that minute the two boys started on the +run. They got half way to the tree I was in before the men noticed. +Then the men see them, and jumped on their horses and took out after +them. They gained on the boys, but it didn't do no good, the boys had +too good a start; they got to the woodpile that was in front of my tree, +and slipped in behind it, and so they had the bulge on the men again. +One of the boys was Buck, and the other was a slim young chap about +nineteen years old. + +The men ripped around awhile, and then rode away. As soon as they was +out of sight I sung out to Buck and told him. He didn't know what +to make of my voice coming out of the tree at first. He was awful +surprised. He told me to watch out sharp and let him know when the +men come in sight again; said they was up to some devilment or +other--wouldn't be gone long. I wished I was out of that tree, but I +dasn't come down. Buck begun to cry and rip, and 'lowed that him and +his cousin Joe (that was the other young chap) would make up for this +day yet. He said his father and his two brothers was killed, and two +or three of the enemy. Said the Shepherdsons laid for them in +ambush. Buck said his father and brothers ought to waited for their +relations--the Shepherdsons was too strong for them. I asked him what +was become of young Harney and Miss Sophia. He said they'd got across +the river and was safe. I was glad of that; but the way Buck did take +on because he didn't manage to kill Harney that day he shot at him--I +hain't ever heard anything like it. + +All of a sudden, bang! bang! bang! goes three or four guns--the men had +slipped around through the woods and come in from behind without their +horses! The boys jumped for the river--both of them hurt--and as they +swum down the current the men run along the bank shooting at them and +singing out, "Kill them, kill them!" It made me so sick I most fell out +of the tree. I ain't a-going to tell _all_ that happened--it would make +me sick again if I was to do that. I wished I hadn't ever come ashore +that night to see such things. I ain't ever going to get shut of +them--lots of times I dream about them. + +I stayed in the tree till it begun to get dark, afraid to come down. +Sometimes I heard guns away off in the woods; and twice I seen little +gangs of men gallop past the log store with guns; so I reckoned the +trouble was still a-going on. I was mighty downhearted; so I made up my +mind I wouldn't ever go anear that house again, because I reckoned I +was to blame, somehow. I judged that that piece of paper meant that Miss +Sophia was to meet Harney somewheres at half-past two and run off; and +I judged I ought to told her father about that paper and the curious way +she acted, and then maybe he would a locked her up, and this awful mess +wouldn't ever happened. + +When I got down out of the tree I crept along down the river bank a +piece, and found the two bodies laying in the edge of the water, and +tugged at them till I got them ashore; then I covered up their faces, +and got away as quick as I could. I cried a little when I was covering +up Buck's face, for he was mighty good to me. + +It was just dark now. I never went near the house, but struck through +the woods and made for the swamp. Jim warn't on his island, so I +tramped off in a hurry for the crick, and crowded through the willows, +red-hot to jump aboard and get out of that awful country. The raft was +gone! My souls, but I was scared! I couldn't get my breath for most +a minute. Then I raised a yell. A voice not twenty-five foot from me +says: + +"Good lan'! is dat you, honey? Doan' make no noise." + +It was Jim's voice--nothing ever sounded so good before. I run along the +bank a piece and got aboard, and Jim he grabbed me and hugged me, he was +so glad to see me. He says: + +"Laws bless you, chile, I 'uz right down sho' you's dead agin. Jack's +been heah; he say he reck'n you's ben shot, kase you didn' come home no +mo'; so I's jes' dis minute a startin' de raf' down towards de mouf er +de crick, so's to be all ready for to shove out en leave soon as Jack +comes agin en tells me for certain you _is_ dead. Lawsy, I's mighty +glad to git you back again, honey." + +I says: + +"All right--that's mighty good; they won't find me, and they'll think +I've been killed, and floated down the river--there's something up there +that 'll help them think so--so don't you lose no time, Jim, but just +shove off for the big water as fast as ever you can." + +I never felt easy till the raft was two mile below there and out in +the middle of the Mississippi. Then we hung up our signal lantern, and +judged that we was free and safe once more. I hadn't had a bite to eat +since yesterday, so Jim he got out some corn-dodgers and buttermilk, +and pork and cabbage and greens--there ain't nothing in the world so good +when it's cooked right--and whilst I eat my supper we talked and had a +good time. I was powerful glad to get away from the feuds, and so was +Jim to get away from the swamp. We said there warn't no home like a +raft, after all. Other places do seem so cramped up and smothery, but a +raft don't. You feel mighty free and easy and comfortable on a raft. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +TWO or three days and nights went by; I reckon I might say they swum by, +they slid along so quiet and smooth and lovely. Here is the way we put +in the time. It was a monstrous big river down there--sometimes a mile +and a half wide; we run nights, and laid up and hid daytimes; soon as +night was most gone we stopped navigating and tied up--nearly always +in the dead water under a towhead; and then cut young cottonwoods and +willows, and hid the raft with them. Then we set out the lines. Next +we slid into the river and had a swim, so as to freshen up and cool +off; then we set down on the sandy bottom where the water was about knee +deep, and watched the daylight come. Not a sound anywheres--perfectly +still--just like the whole world was asleep, only sometimes the bullfrogs +a-cluttering, maybe. The first thing to see, looking away over the +water, was a kind of dull line--that was the woods on t'other side; you +couldn't make nothing else out; then a pale place in the sky; then more +paleness spreading around; then the river softened up away off, and +warn't black any more, but gray; you could see little dark spots +drifting along ever so far away--trading scows, and such things; and +long black streaks--rafts; sometimes you could hear a sweep screaking; or +jumbled up voices, it was so still, and sounds come so far; and by and +by you could see a streak on the water which you know by the look of the +streak that there's a snag there in a swift current which breaks on it +and makes that streak look that way; and you see the mist curl up off +of the water, and the east reddens up, and the river, and you make out a +log-cabin in the edge of the woods, away on the bank on t'other side of +the river, being a woodyard, likely, and piled by them cheats so you can +throw a dog through it anywheres; then the nice breeze springs up, and +comes fanning you from over there, so cool and fresh and sweet to smell +on account of the woods and the flowers; but sometimes not that way, +because they've left dead fish laying around, gars and such, and they +do get pretty rank; and next you've got the full day, and everything +smiling in the sun, and the song-birds just going it! + +A little smoke couldn't be noticed now, so we would take some fish off +of the lines and cook up a hot breakfast. And afterwards we would watch +the lonesomeness of the river, and kind of lazy along, and by and by +lazy off to sleep. Wake up by and by, and look to see what done it, and +maybe see a steamboat coughing along up-stream, so far off towards the +other side you couldn't tell nothing about her only whether she was +a stern-wheel or side-wheel; then for about an hour there wouldn't be +nothing to hear nor nothing to see--just solid lonesomeness. Next +you'd see a raft sliding by, away off yonder, and maybe a galoot on it +chopping, because they're most always doing it on a raft; you'd see the +axe flash and come down--you don't hear nothing; you see that axe go +up again, and by the time it's above the man's head then you hear the +_k'chunk_!--it had took all that time to come over the water. So we +would put in the day, lazying around, listening to the stillness. Once +there was a thick fog, and the rafts and things that went by was beating +tin pans so the steamboats wouldn't run over them. A scow or a +raft went by so close we could hear them talking and cussing and +laughing--heard them plain; but we couldn't see no sign of them; it made +you feel crawly; it was like spirits carrying on that way in the air. + Jim said he believed it was spirits; but I says: + +"No; spirits wouldn't say, 'Dern the dern fog.'" + +Soon as it was night out we shoved; when we got her out to about the +middle we let her alone, and let her float wherever the current wanted +her to; then we lit the pipes, and dangled our legs in the water, and +talked about all kinds of things--we was always naked, day and night, +whenever the mosquitoes would let us--the new clothes Buck's folks made +for me was too good to be comfortable, and besides I didn't go much on +clothes, nohow. + +Sometimes we'd have that whole river all to ourselves for the longest +time. Yonder was the banks and the islands, across the water; and maybe +a spark--which was a candle in a cabin window; and sometimes on the water +you could see a spark or two--on a raft or a scow, you know; and maybe +you could hear a fiddle or a song coming over from one of them crafts. +It's lovely to live on a raft. We had the sky up there, all speckled +with stars, and we used to lay on our backs and look up at them, and +discuss about whether they was made or only just happened. Jim he +allowed they was made, but I allowed they happened; I judged it would +have took too long to _make_ so many. Jim said the moon could a _laid_ +them; well, that looked kind of reasonable, so I didn't say nothing +against it, because I've seen a frog lay most as many, so of course it +could be done. We used to watch the stars that fell, too, and see them +streak down. Jim allowed they'd got spoiled and was hove out of the +nest. + +Once or twice of a night we would see a steamboat slipping along in the +dark, and now and then she would belch a whole world of sparks up out +of her chimbleys, and they would rain down in the river and look awful +pretty; then she would turn a corner and her lights would wink out and +her powwow shut off and leave the river still again; and by and by her +waves would get to us, a long time after she was gone, and joggle the +raft a bit, and after that you wouldn't hear nothing for you couldn't +tell how long, except maybe frogs or something. + +After midnight the people on shore went to bed, and then for two or +three hours the shores was black--no more sparks in the cabin windows. + These sparks was our clock--the first one that showed again meant +morning was coming, so we hunted a place to hide and tie up right away. + +One morning about daybreak I found a canoe and crossed over a chute to +the main shore--it was only two hundred yards--and paddled about a mile +up a crick amongst the cypress woods, to see if I couldn't get some +berries. Just as I was passing a place where a kind of a cowpath crossed +the crick, here comes a couple of men tearing up the path as tight as +they could foot it. I thought I was a goner, for whenever anybody was +after anybody I judged it was _me_--or maybe Jim. I was about to dig out +from there in a hurry, but they was pretty close to me then, and sung +out and begged me to save their lives--said they hadn't been doing +nothing, and was being chased for it--said there was men and dogs +a-coming. They wanted to jump right in, but I says: + +"Don't you do it. I don't hear the dogs and horses yet; you've got time +to crowd through the brush and get up the crick a little ways; then you +take to the water and wade down to me and get in--that'll throw the dogs +off the scent." + +They done it, and soon as they was aboard I lit out for our towhead, +and in about five or ten minutes we heard the dogs and the men away off, +shouting. We heard them come along towards the crick, but couldn't +see them; they seemed to stop and fool around a while; then, as we got +further and further away all the time, we couldn't hardly hear them at +all; by the time we had left a mile of woods behind us and struck the +river, everything was quiet, and we paddled over to the towhead and hid +in the cottonwoods and was safe. + +One of these fellows was about seventy or upwards, and had a bald head +and very gray whiskers. He had an old battered-up slouch hat on, and +a greasy blue woollen shirt, and ragged old blue jeans britches stuffed +into his boot-tops, and home-knit galluses--no, he only had one. He had +an old long-tailed blue jeans coat with slick brass buttons flung over +his arm, and both of them had big, fat, ratty-looking carpet-bags. + +The other fellow was about thirty, and dressed about as ornery. After +breakfast we all laid off and talked, and the first thing that come out +was that these chaps didn't know one another. + +"What got you into trouble?" says the baldhead to t'other chap. + +"Well, I'd been selling an article to take the tartar off the teeth--and +it does take it off, too, and generly the enamel along with it--but I +stayed about one night longer than I ought to, and was just in the act +of sliding out when I ran across you on the trail this side of town, and +you told me they were coming, and begged me to help you to get off. So +I told you I was expecting trouble myself, and would scatter out _with_ +you. That's the whole yarn--what's yourn? + +"Well, I'd ben a-running' a little temperance revival thar 'bout a week, +and was the pet of the women folks, big and little, for I was makin' it +mighty warm for the rummies, I _tell_ you, and takin' as much as five +or six dollars a night--ten cents a head, children and niggers free--and +business a-growin' all the time, when somehow or another a little report +got around last night that I had a way of puttin' in my time with a +private jug on the sly. A nigger rousted me out this mornin', and told +me the people was getherin' on the quiet with their dogs and horses, and +they'd be along pretty soon and give me 'bout half an hour's start, +and then run me down if they could; and if they got me they'd tar +and feather me and ride me on a rail, sure. I didn't wait for no +breakfast--I warn't hungry." + +"Old man," said the young one, "I reckon we might double-team it +together; what do you think?" + +"I ain't undisposed. What's your line--mainly?" + +"Jour printer by trade; do a little in patent medicines; +theater-actor--tragedy, you know; take a turn to mesmerism and phrenology +when there's a chance; teach singing-geography school for a change; +sling a lecture sometimes--oh, I do lots of things--most anything that +comes handy, so it ain't work. What's your lay?" + +"I've done considerble in the doctoring way in my time. Layin' on o' +hands is my best holt--for cancer and paralysis, and sich things; and I +k'n tell a fortune pretty good when I've got somebody along to find out +the facts for me. Preachin's my line, too, and workin' camp-meetin's, +and missionaryin' around." + +Nobody never said anything for a while; then the young man hove a sigh +and says: + +"Alas!" + +"What 're you alassin' about?" says the bald-head. + +"To think I should have lived to be leading such a life, and be degraded +down into such company." And he begun to wipe the corner of his eye +with a rag. + +"Dern your skin, ain't the company good enough for you?" says the +baldhead, pretty pert and uppish. + +"Yes, it _is_ good enough for me; it's as good as I deserve; for who +fetched me so low when I was so high? I did myself. I don't blame +_you_, gentlemen--far from it; I don't blame anybody. I deserve it +all. Let the cold world do its worst; one thing I know--there's a grave +somewhere for me. The world may go on just as it's always done, and take +everything from me--loved ones, property, everything; but it can't take +that. Some day I'll lie down in it and forget it all, and my poor broken +heart will be at rest." He went on a-wiping. + +"Drot your pore broken heart," says the baldhead; "what are you heaving +your pore broken heart at _us_ f'r? _we_ hain't done nothing." + +"No, I know you haven't. I ain't blaming you, gentlemen. I brought +myself down--yes, I did it myself. It's right I should suffer--perfectly +right--I don't make any moan." + +"Brought you down from whar? Whar was you brought down from?" + +"Ah, you would not believe me; the world never believes--let it pass--'tis +no matter. The secret of my birth--" + +"The secret of your birth! Do you mean to say--" + +"Gentlemen," says the young man, very solemn, "I will reveal it to you, +for I feel I may have confidence in you. By rights I am a duke!" + +Jim's eyes bugged out when he heard that; and I reckon mine did, too. +Then the baldhead says: "No! you can't mean it?" + +"Yes. My great-grandfather, eldest son of the Duke of Bridgewater, fled +to this country about the end of the last century, to breathe the pure +air of freedom; married here, and died, leaving a son, his own father +dying about the same time. The second son of the late duke seized the +titles and estates--the infant real duke was ignored. I am the lineal +descendant of that infant--I am the rightful Duke of Bridgewater; and +here am I, forlorn, torn from my high estate, hunted of men, despised +by the cold world, ragged, worn, heart-broken, and degraded to the +companionship of felons on a raft!" + +Jim pitied him ever so much, and so did I. We tried to comfort him, but +he said it warn't much use, he couldn't be much comforted; said if we +was a mind to acknowledge him, that would do him more good than most +anything else; so we said we would, if he would tell us how. He said we +ought to bow when we spoke to him, and say "Your Grace," or "My Lord," +or "Your Lordship"--and he wouldn't mind it if we called him plain +"Bridgewater," which, he said, was a title anyway, and not a name; and +one of us ought to wait on him at dinner, and do any little thing for +him he wanted done. + +Well, that was all easy, so we done it. All through dinner Jim stood +around and waited on him, and says, "Will yo' Grace have some o' dis or +some o' dat?" and so on, and a body could see it was mighty pleasing to +him. + +But the old man got pretty silent by and by--didn't have much to say, and +didn't look pretty comfortable over all that petting that was going on +around that duke. He seemed to have something on his mind. So, along +in the afternoon, he says: + +"Looky here, Bilgewater," he says, "I'm nation sorry for you, but you +ain't the only person that's had troubles like that." + +"No?" + +"No you ain't. You ain't the only person that's ben snaked down +wrongfully out'n a high place." + +"Alas!" + +"No, you ain't the only person that's had a secret of his birth." And, +by jings, _he_ begins to cry. + +"Hold! What do you mean?" + +"Bilgewater, kin I trust you?" says the old man, still sort of sobbing. + +"To the bitter death!" He took the old man by the hand and squeezed it, +and says, "That secret of your being: speak!" + +"Bilgewater, I am the late Dauphin!" + +You bet you, Jim and me stared this time. Then the duke says: + +"You are what?" + +"Yes, my friend, it is too true--your eyes is lookin' at this very moment +on the pore disappeared Dauphin, Looy the Seventeen, son of Looy the +Sixteen and Marry Antonette." + +"You! At your age! No! You mean you're the late Charlemagne; you must +be six or seven hundred years old, at the very least." + +"Trouble has done it, Bilgewater, trouble has done it; trouble has brung +these gray hairs and this premature balditude. Yes, gentlemen, you +see before you, in blue jeans and misery, the wanderin', exiled, +trampled-on, and sufferin' rightful King of France." + +Well, he cried and took on so that me and Jim didn't know hardly what to +do, we was so sorry--and so glad and proud we'd got him with us, too. + So we set in, like we done before with the duke, and tried to comfort +_him_. But he said it warn't no use, nothing but to be dead and done +with it all could do him any good; though he said it often made him feel +easier and better for a while if people treated him according to his +rights, and got down on one knee to speak to him, and always called him +"Your Majesty," and waited on him first at meals, and didn't set down +in his presence till he asked them. So Jim and me set to majestying him, +and doing this and that and t'other for him, and standing up till he +told us we might set down. This done him heaps of good, and so he +got cheerful and comfortable. But the duke kind of soured on him, and +didn't look a bit satisfied with the way things was going; still, +the king acted real friendly towards him, and said the duke's +great-grandfather and all the other Dukes of Bilgewater was a good +deal thought of by _his_ father, and was allowed to come to the palace +considerable; but the duke stayed huffy a good while, till by and by the +king says: + +"Like as not we got to be together a blamed long time on this h-yer +raft, Bilgewater, and so what's the use o' your bein' sour? It 'll only +make things oncomfortable. It ain't my fault I warn't born a duke, +it ain't your fault you warn't born a king--so what's the use to worry? + Make the best o' things the way you find 'em, says I--that's my motto. + This ain't no bad thing that we've struck here--plenty grub and an easy +life--come, give us your hand, duke, and le's all be friends." + +The duke done it, and Jim and me was pretty glad to see it. It took +away all the uncomfortableness and we felt mighty good over it, because +it would a been a miserable business to have any unfriendliness on the +raft; for what you want, above all things, on a raft, is for everybody +to be satisfied, and feel right and kind towards the others. + +It didn't take me long to make up my mind that these liars warn't no +kings nor dukes at all, but just low-down humbugs and frauds. But I +never said nothing, never let on; kept it to myself; it's the best way; +then you don't have no quarrels, and don't get into no trouble. If they +wanted us to call them kings and dukes, I hadn't no objections, 'long as +it would keep peace in the family; and it warn't no use to tell Jim, so +I didn't tell him. If I never learnt nothing else out of pap, I learnt +that the best way to get along with his kind of people is to let them +have their own way. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +THEY asked us considerable many questions; wanted to know what we +covered up the raft that way for, and laid by in the daytime instead of +running--was Jim a runaway nigger? Says I: + +"Goodness sakes! would a runaway nigger run _south_?" + +No, they allowed he wouldn't. I had to account for things some way, so +I says: + +"My folks was living in Pike County, in Missouri, where I was born, and +they all died off but me and pa and my brother Ike. Pa, he 'lowed +he'd break up and go down and live with Uncle Ben, who's got a little +one-horse place on the river, forty-four mile below Orleans. Pa was +pretty poor, and had some debts; so when he'd squared up there warn't +nothing left but sixteen dollars and our nigger, Jim. That warn't +enough to take us fourteen hundred mile, deck passage nor no other way. + Well, when the river rose pa had a streak of luck one day; he ketched +this piece of a raft; so we reckoned we'd go down to Orleans on it. + Pa's luck didn't hold out; a steamboat run over the forrard corner of +the raft one night, and we all went overboard and dove under the wheel; +Jim and me come up all right, but pa was drunk, and Ike was only four +years old, so they never come up no more. Well, for the next day or +two we had considerable trouble, because people was always coming out in +skiffs and trying to take Jim away from me, saying they believed he was +a runaway nigger. We don't run daytimes no more now; nights they don't +bother us." + +The duke says: + +"Leave me alone to cipher out a way so we can run in the daytime if we +want to. I'll think the thing over--I'll invent a plan that'll fix it. +We'll let it alone for to-day, because of course we don't want to go by +that town yonder in daylight--it mightn't be healthy." + +Towards night it begun to darken up and look like rain; the heat +lightning was squirting around low down in the sky, and the leaves was +beginning to shiver--it was going to be pretty ugly, it was easy to see +that. So the duke and the king went to overhauling our wigwam, to see +what the beds was like. My bed was a straw tick better than Jim's, +which was a corn-shuck tick; there's always cobs around about in a shuck +tick, and they poke into you and hurt; and when you roll over the dry +shucks sound like you was rolling over in a pile of dead leaves; it +makes such a rustling that you wake up. Well, the duke allowed he would +take my bed; but the king allowed he wouldn't. He says: + +"I should a reckoned the difference in rank would a sejested to you that +a corn-shuck bed warn't just fitten for me to sleep on. Your Grace 'll +take the shuck bed yourself." + +Jim and me was in a sweat again for a minute, being afraid there was +going to be some more trouble amongst them; so we was pretty glad when +the duke says: + +"'Tis my fate to be always ground into the mire under the iron heel of +oppression. Misfortune has broken my once haughty spirit; I yield, I +submit; 'tis my fate. I am alone in the world--let me suffer; can bear +it." + +We got away as soon as it was good and dark. The king told us to stand +well out towards the middle of the river, and not show a light till we +got a long ways below the town. We come in sight of the little bunch of +lights by and by--that was the town, you know--and slid by, about a half +a mile out, all right. When we was three-quarters of a mile below we +hoisted up our signal lantern; and about ten o'clock it come on to rain +and blow and thunder and lighten like everything; so the king told us +to both stay on watch till the weather got better; then him and the duke +crawled into the wigwam and turned in for the night. It was my watch +below till twelve, but I wouldn't a turned in anyway if I'd had a bed, +because a body don't see such a storm as that every day in the week, not +by a long sight. My souls, how the wind did scream along! And every +second or two there'd come a glare that lit up the white-caps for a half +a mile around, and you'd see the islands looking dusty through the rain, +and the trees thrashing around in the wind; then comes a H-WHACK!--bum! +bum! bumble-umble-um-bum-bum-bum-bum--and the thunder would go rumbling +and grumbling away, and quit--and then RIP comes another flash and +another sockdolager. The waves most washed me off the raft sometimes, +but I hadn't any clothes on, and didn't mind. We didn't have no trouble +about snags; the lightning was glaring and flittering around so constant +that we could see them plenty soon enough to throw her head this way or +that and miss them. + +I had the middle watch, you know, but I was pretty sleepy by that time, +so Jim he said he would stand the first half of it for me; he was always +mighty good that way, Jim was. I crawled into the wigwam, but the king +and the duke had their legs sprawled around so there warn't no show for +me; so I laid outside--I didn't mind the rain, because it was warm, and +the waves warn't running so high now. About two they come up again, +though, and Jim was going to call me; but he changed his mind, because +he reckoned they warn't high enough yet to do any harm; but he was +mistaken about that, for pretty soon all of a sudden along comes a +regular ripper and washed me overboard. It most killed Jim a-laughing. + He was the easiest nigger to laugh that ever was, anyway. + +I took the watch, and Jim he laid down and snored away; and by and by +the storm let up for good and all; and the first cabin-light that showed +I rousted him out, and we slid the raft into hiding quarters for the +day. + +The king got out an old ratty deck of cards after breakfast, and him +and the duke played seven-up a while, five cents a game. Then they got +tired of it, and allowed they would "lay out a campaign," as they called +it. The duke went down into his carpet-bag, and fetched up a lot of +little printed bills and read them out loud. One bill said, "The +celebrated Dr. Armand de Montalban, of Paris," would "lecture on the +Science of Phrenology" at such and such a place, on the blank day of +blank, at ten cents admission, and "furnish charts of character at +twenty-five cents apiece." The duke said that was _him_. In another +bill he was the "world-renowned Shakespearian tragedian, Garrick the +Younger, of Drury Lane, London." In other bills he had a lot of other +names and done other wonderful things, like finding water and gold with +a "divining-rod," "dissipating witch spells," and so on. By and by he +says: + +"But the histrionic muse is the darling. Have you ever trod the boards, +Royalty?" + +"No," says the king. + +"You shall, then, before you're three days older, Fallen Grandeur," says +the duke. "The first good town we come to we'll hire a hall and do the +sword fight in Richard III. and the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet. +How does that strike you?" + +"I'm in, up to the hub, for anything that will pay, Bilgewater; but, you +see, I don't know nothing about play-actin', and hain't ever seen much +of it. I was too small when pap used to have 'em at the palace. Do you +reckon you can learn me?" + +"Easy!" + +"All right. I'm jist a-freezn' for something fresh, anyway. Le's +commence right away." + +So the duke he told him all about who Romeo was and who Juliet was, and +said he was used to being Romeo, so the king could be Juliet. + +"But if Juliet's such a young gal, duke, my peeled head and my white +whiskers is goin' to look oncommon odd on her, maybe." + +"No, don't you worry; these country jakes won't ever think of that. +Besides, you know, you'll be in costume, and that makes all the +difference in the world; Juliet's in a balcony, enjoying the moonlight +before she goes to bed, and she's got on her night-gown and her ruffled +nightcap. Here are the costumes for the parts." + +He got out two or three curtain-calico suits, which he said was +meedyevil armor for Richard III. and t'other chap, and a long white +cotton nightshirt and a ruffled nightcap to match. The king was +satisfied; so the duke got out his book and read the parts over in the +most splendid spread-eagle way, prancing around and acting at the same +time, to show how it had got to be done; then he give the book to the +king and told him to get his part by heart. + +There was a little one-horse town about three mile down the bend, and +after dinner the duke said he had ciphered out his idea about how to run +in daylight without it being dangersome for Jim; so he allowed he would +go down to the town and fix that thing. The king allowed he would go, +too, and see if he couldn't strike something. We was out of coffee, so +Jim said I better go along with them in the canoe and get some. + +When we got there there warn't nobody stirring; streets empty, and +perfectly dead and still, like Sunday. We found a sick nigger sunning +himself in a back yard, and he said everybody that warn't too young or +too sick or too old was gone to camp-meeting, about two mile back in the +woods. The king got the directions, and allowed he'd go and work that +camp-meeting for all it was worth, and I might go, too. + +The duke said what he was after was a printing-office. We found it; +a little bit of a concern, up over a carpenter shop--carpenters and +printers all gone to the meeting, and no doors locked. It was a dirty, +littered-up place, and had ink marks, and handbills with pictures of +horses and runaway niggers on them, all over the walls. The duke shed +his coat and said he was all right now. So me and the king lit out for +the camp-meeting. + +We got there in about a half an hour fairly dripping, for it was a most +awful hot day. There was as much as a thousand people there from +twenty mile around. The woods was full of teams and wagons, hitched +everywheres, feeding out of the wagon-troughs and stomping to keep +off the flies. There was sheds made out of poles and roofed over with +branches, where they had lemonade and gingerbread to sell, and piles of +watermelons and green corn and such-like truck. + +The preaching was going on under the same kinds of sheds, only they was +bigger and held crowds of people. The benches was made out of outside +slabs of logs, with holes bored in the round side to drive sticks into +for legs. They didn't have no backs. The preachers had high platforms +to stand on at one end of the sheds. The women had on sun-bonnets; +and some had linsey-woolsey frocks, some gingham ones, and a few of the +young ones had on calico. Some of the young men was barefooted, and +some of the children didn't have on any clothes but just a tow-linen +shirt. Some of the old women was knitting, and some of the young folks +was courting on the sly. + +The first shed we come to the preacher was lining out a hymn. He lined +out two lines, everybody sung it, and it was kind of grand to hear it, +there was so many of them and they done it in such a rousing way; then +he lined out two more for them to sing--and so on. The people woke up +more and more, and sung louder and louder; and towards the end some +begun to groan, and some begun to shout. Then the preacher begun to +preach, and begun in earnest, too; and went weaving first to one side of +the platform and then the other, and then a-leaning down over the front +of it, with his arms and his body going all the time, and shouting his +words out with all his might; and every now and then he would hold up +his Bible and spread it open, and kind of pass it around this way and +that, shouting, "It's the brazen serpent in the wilderness! Look upon +it and live!" And people would shout out, "Glory!--A-a-_men_!" And so +he went on, and the people groaning and crying and saying amen: + +"Oh, come to the mourners' bench! come, black with sin! (_Amen_!) come, +sick and sore! (_Amen_!) come, lame and halt and blind! (_Amen_!) come, +pore and needy, sunk in shame! (_A-A-Men_!) come, all that's worn and +soiled and suffering!--come with a broken spirit! come with a contrite +heart! come in your rags and sin and dirt! the waters that cleanse +is free, the door of heaven stands open--oh, enter in and be at rest!" +(_A-A-Men_! _Glory, Glory Hallelujah!_) + +And so on. You couldn't make out what the preacher said any more, on +account of the shouting and crying. Folks got up everywheres in the +crowd, and worked their way just by main strength to the mourners' +bench, with the tears running down their faces; and when all the +mourners had got up there to the front benches in a crowd, they sung and +shouted and flung themselves down on the straw, just crazy and wild. + +Well, the first I knowed the king got a-going, and you could hear him +over everybody; and next he went a-charging up on to the platform, and +the preacher he begged him to speak to the people, and he done it. He +told them he was a pirate--been a pirate for thirty years out in the +Indian Ocean--and his crew was thinned out considerable last spring in +a fight, and he was home now to take out some fresh men, and thanks to +goodness he'd been robbed last night and put ashore off of a steamboat +without a cent, and he was glad of it; it was the blessedest thing that +ever happened to him, because he was a changed man now, and happy for +the first time in his life; and, poor as he was, he was going to start +right off and work his way back to the Indian Ocean, and put in the rest +of his life trying to turn the pirates into the true path; for he could +do it better than anybody else, being acquainted with all pirate crews +in that ocean; and though it would take him a long time to get there +without money, he would get there anyway, and every time he convinced +a pirate he would say to him, "Don't you thank me, don't you give me no +credit; it all belongs to them dear people in Pokeville camp-meeting, +natural brothers and benefactors of the race, and that dear preacher +there, the truest friend a pirate ever had!" + +And then he busted into tears, and so did everybody. Then somebody +sings out, "Take up a collection for him, take up a collection!" Well, +a half a dozen made a jump to do it, but somebody sings out, "Let _him_ +pass the hat around!" Then everybody said it, the preacher too. + +So the king went all through the crowd with his hat swabbing his eyes, +and blessing the people and praising them and thanking them for being +so good to the poor pirates away off there; and every little while the +prettiest kind of girls, with the tears running down their cheeks, would +up and ask him would he let them kiss him for to remember him by; and he +always done it; and some of them he hugged and kissed as many as five or +six times--and he was invited to stay a week; and everybody wanted him to +live in their houses, and said they'd think it was an honor; but he said +as this was the last day of the camp-meeting he couldn't do no good, and +besides he was in a sweat to get to the Indian Ocean right off and go to +work on the pirates. + +When we got back to the raft and he come to count up he found he had +collected eighty-seven dollars and seventy-five cents. And then he had +fetched away a three-gallon jug of whisky, too, that he found under a +wagon when he was starting home through the woods. The king said, +take it all around, it laid over any day he'd ever put in in the +missionarying line. He said it warn't no use talking, heathens don't +amount to shucks alongside of pirates to work a camp-meeting with. + +The duke was thinking _he'd_ been doing pretty well till the king come +to show up, but after that he didn't think so so much. He had set +up and printed off two little jobs for farmers in that +printing-office--horse bills--and took the money, four dollars. And he +had got in ten dollars' worth of advertisements for the paper, which he +said he would put in for four dollars if they would pay in advance--so +they done it. The price of the paper was two dollars a year, but he took +in three subscriptions for half a dollar apiece on condition of them +paying him in advance; they were going to pay in cordwood and onions as +usual, but he said he had just bought the concern and knocked down the +price as low as he could afford it, and was going to run it for cash. + He set up a little piece of poetry, which he made, himself, out of +his own head--three verses--kind of sweet and saddish--the name of it was, +"Yes, crush, cold world, this breaking heart"--and he left that all set +up and ready to print in the paper, and didn't charge nothing for it. + Well, he took in nine dollars and a half, and said he'd done a pretty +square day's work for it. + +Then he showed us another little job he'd printed and hadn't charged +for, because it was for us. It had a picture of a runaway nigger with +a bundle on a stick over his shoulder, and "$200 reward" under it. The +reading was all about Jim, and just described him to a dot. It said +he run away from St. Jacques' plantation, forty mile below New Orleans, +last winter, and likely went north, and whoever would catch him and send +him back he could have the reward and expenses. + +"Now," says the duke, "after to-night we can run in the daytime if we +want to. Whenever we see anybody coming we can tie Jim hand and foot +with a rope, and lay him in the wigwam and show this handbill and say we +captured him up the river, and were too poor to travel on a steamboat, +so we got this little raft on credit from our friends and are going down +to get the reward. Handcuffs and chains would look still better on Jim, +but it wouldn't go well with the story of us being so poor. Too much +like jewelry. Ropes are the correct thing--we must preserve the unities, +as we say on the boards." + +We all said the duke was pretty smart, and there couldn't be no trouble +about running daytimes. We judged we could make miles enough that night +to get out of the reach of the powwow we reckoned the duke's work in +the printing office was going to make in that little town; then we could +boom right along if we wanted to. + +We laid low and kept still, and never shoved out till nearly ten +o'clock; then we slid by, pretty wide away from the town, and didn't +hoist our lantern till we was clear out of sight of it. + +When Jim called me to take the watch at four in the morning, he says: + +"Huck, does you reck'n we gwyne to run acrost any mo' kings on dis +trip?" + +"No," I says, "I reckon not." + +"Well," says he, "dat's all right, den. I doan' mine one er two kings, +but dat's enough. Dis one's powerful drunk, en de duke ain' much +better." + +I found Jim had been trying to get him to talk French, so he could hear +what it was like; but he said he had been in this country so long, and +had so much trouble, he'd forgot it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +IT was after sun-up now, but we went right on and didn't tie up. The +king and the duke turned out by and by looking pretty rusty; but after +they'd jumped overboard and took a swim it chippered them up a good +deal. After breakfast the king he took a seat on the corner of the raft, +and pulled off his boots and rolled up his britches, and let his legs +dangle in the water, so as to be comfortable, and lit his pipe, and went +to getting his Romeo and Juliet by heart. When he had got it pretty +good him and the duke begun to practice it together. The duke had to +learn him over and over again how to say every speech; and he made him +sigh, and put his hand on his heart, and after a while he said he done +it pretty well; "only," he says, "you mustn't bellow out _Romeo_! +that way, like a bull--you must say it soft and sick and languishy, +so--R-o-o-meo! that is the idea; for Juliet's a dear sweet mere child of +a girl, you know, and she doesn't bray like a jackass." + +Well, next they got out a couple of long swords that the duke made out +of oak laths, and begun to practice the sword fight--the duke called +himself Richard III.; and the way they laid on and pranced around +the raft was grand to see. But by and by the king tripped and fell +overboard, and after that they took a rest, and had a talk about all +kinds of adventures they'd had in other times along the river. + +After dinner the duke says: + +"Well, Capet, we'll want to make this a first-class show, you know, so +I guess we'll add a little more to it. We want a little something to +answer encores with, anyway." + +"What's onkores, Bilgewater?" + +The duke told him, and then says: + +"I'll answer by doing the Highland fling or the sailor's hornpipe; and +you--well, let me see--oh, I've got it--you can do Hamlet's soliloquy." + +"Hamlet's which?" + +"Hamlet's soliloquy, you know; the most celebrated thing in Shakespeare. +Ah, it's sublime, sublime! Always fetches the house. I haven't got +it in the book--I've only got one volume--but I reckon I can piece it out +from memory. I'll just walk up and down a minute, and see if I can call +it back from recollection's vaults." + +So he went to marching up and down, thinking, and frowning horrible +every now and then; then he would hoist up his eyebrows; next he would +squeeze his hand on his forehead and stagger back and kind of moan; next +he would sigh, and next he'd let on to drop a tear. It was beautiful +to see him. By and by he got it. He told us to give attention. Then +he strikes a most noble attitude, with one leg shoved forwards, and his +arms stretched away up, and his head tilted back, looking up at the sky; +and then he begins to rip and rave and grit his teeth; and after that, +all through his speech, he howled, and spread around, and swelled up his +chest, and just knocked the spots out of any acting ever I see before. + This is the speech--I learned it, easy enough, while he was learning it +to the king: + +To be, or not to be; that is the bare bodkin That makes calamity of +so long life; For who would fardels bear, till Birnam Wood do come +to Dunsinane, But that the fear of something after death Murders the +innocent sleep, Great nature's second course, And makes us rather sling +the arrows of outrageous fortune Than fly to others that we know not of. +There's the respect must give us pause: Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I +would thou couldst; For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The +oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The law's delay, and the +quietus which his pangs might take. In the dead waste and middle of the +night, when churchyards yawn In customary suits of solemn black, But +that the undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveler returns, +Breathes forth contagion on the world, And thus the native hue of +resolution, like the poor cat i' the adage, Is sicklied o'er with care. +And all the clouds that lowered o'er our housetops, With this +regard their currents turn awry, And lose the name of action. 'Tis a +consummation devoutly to be wished. But soft you, the fair Ophelia: Ope +not thy ponderous and marble jaws. But get thee to a nunnery—go! + +Well, the old man he liked that speech, and he mighty soon got it so he +could do it first rate. It seemed like he was just born for it; and when +he had his hand in and was excited, it was perfectly lovely the way he +would rip and tear and rair up behind when he was getting it off. + +The first chance we got, the duke he had some show bills printed; and +after that, for two or three days as we floated along, the raft was a +most uncommon lively place, for there warn't nothing but sword-fighting +and rehearsing--as the duke called it--going on all the time. One morning, +when we was pretty well down the State of Arkansaw, we come in sight +of a little one-horse town in a big bend; so we tied up about +three-quarters of a mile above it, in the mouth of a crick which was +shut in like a tunnel by the cypress trees, and all of us but Jim took +the canoe and went down there to see if there was any chance in that +place for our show. + +We struck it mighty lucky; there was going to be a circus there that +afternoon, and the country people was already beginning to come in, in +all kinds of old shackly wagons, and on horses. The circus would leave +before night, so our show would have a pretty good chance. The duke he +hired the court house, and we went around and stuck up our bills. They +read like this: + +Shaksperean Revival!!! + +Wonderful Attraction! + +For One Night Only! The world renowned tragedians, + +David Garrick the younger, of Drury Lane Theatre, London, + +and + +Edmund Kean the elder, of the Royal Haymarket Theatre, Whitechapel, +Pudding Lane, Piccadilly, London, and the Royal Continental Theatres, in +their sublime Shaksperean Spectacle entitled The Balcony Scene in + +Romeo and Juliet!!! + +Romeo...................................... Mr. Garrick. + +Juliet..................................... Mr. Kean. + +Assisted by the whole strength of the company! + +New costumes, new scenery, new appointments! + +Also: + +The thrilling, masterly, and blood-curdling Broad-sword conflict In +Richard III.!!! + +Richard III................................ Mr. Garrick. + +Richmond................................... Mr. Kean. + +also: + +(by special request,) + +Hamlet's Immortal Soliloquy!! + +By the Illustrious Kean! + +Done by him 300 consecutive nights in Paris! + +For One Night Only, + +On account of imperative European engagements! + +Admission 25 cents; children and servants, 10 cents. + +Then we went loafing around the town. The stores and houses was most all +old shackly dried-up frame concerns that hadn't ever been painted; they +was set up three or four foot above ground on stilts, so as to be out of +reach of the water when the river was overflowed. The houses had little +gardens around them, but they didn't seem to raise hardly anything in +them but jimpson weeds, and sunflowers, and ash-piles, and old curled-up +boots and shoes, and pieces of bottles, and rags, and played-out +tin-ware. The fences was made of different kinds of boards, nailed on +at different times; and they leaned every which-way, and had gates that +didn't generly have but one hinge--a leather one. Some of the fences +had been whitewashed, some time or another, but the duke said it was in +Clumbus's time, like enough. There was generly hogs in the garden, and +people driving them out. + +All the stores was along one street. They had white domestic awnings in +front, and the country people hitched their horses to the awning-posts. +There was empty drygoods boxes under the awnings, and loafers roosting +on them all day long, whittling them with their Barlow knives; and +chawing tobacco, and gaping and yawning and stretching--a mighty ornery +lot. They generly had on yellow straw hats most as wide as an umbrella, +but didn't wear no coats nor waistcoats, they called one another Bill, +and Buck, and Hank, and Joe, and Andy, and talked lazy and drawly, and +used considerable many cuss words. There was as many as one loafer +leaning up against every awning-post, and he most always had his hands +in his britches-pockets, except when he fetched them out to lend a chaw +of tobacco or scratch. What a body was hearing amongst them all the +time was: + +"Gimme a chaw 'v tobacker, Hank." + +"Cain't; I hain't got but one chaw left. Ask Bill." + +Maybe Bill he gives him a chaw; maybe he lies and says he ain't got +none. Some of them kinds of loafers never has a cent in the world, nor a +chaw of tobacco of their own. They get all their chawing by borrowing; +they say to a fellow, "I wisht you'd len' me a chaw, Jack, I jist this +minute give Ben Thompson the last chaw I had"--which is a lie pretty +much everytime; it don't fool nobody but a stranger; but Jack ain't no +stranger, so he says: + +"_You_ give him a chaw, did you? So did your sister's cat's +grandmother. You pay me back the chaws you've awready borry'd off'n me, +Lafe Buckner, then I'll loan you one or two ton of it, and won't charge +you no back intrust, nuther." + +"Well, I _did_ pay you back some of it wunst." + +"Yes, you did--'bout six chaws. You borry'd store tobacker and paid back +nigger-head." + +Store tobacco is flat black plug, but these fellows mostly chaws the +natural leaf twisted. When they borrow a chaw they don't generly cut it +off with a knife, but set the plug in between their teeth, and gnaw with +their teeth and tug at the plug with their hands till they get it in +two; then sometimes the one that owns the tobacco looks mournful at it +when it's handed back, and says, sarcastic: + +"Here, gimme the _chaw_, and you take the _plug_." + +All the streets and lanes was just mud; they warn't nothing else _but_ +mud--mud as black as tar and nigh about a foot deep in some places, +and two or three inches deep in _all_ the places. The hogs loafed and +grunted around everywheres. You'd see a muddy sow and a litter of pigs +come lazying along the street and whollop herself right down in the way, +where folks had to walk around her, and she'd stretch out and shut her +eyes and wave her ears whilst the pigs was milking her, and look as +happy as if she was on salary. And pretty soon you'd hear a loafer +sing out, "Hi! _so_ boy! sick him, Tige!" and away the sow would go, +squealing most horrible, with a dog or two swinging to each ear, and +three or four dozen more a-coming; and then you would see all the +loafers get up and watch the thing out of sight, and laugh at the fun +and look grateful for the noise. Then they'd settle back again till +there was a dog fight. There couldn't anything wake them up all over, +and make them happy all over, like a dog fight--unless it might be +putting turpentine on a stray dog and setting fire to him, or tying a +tin pan to his tail and see him run himself to death. + +On the river front some of the houses was sticking out over the bank, +and they was bowed and bent, and about ready to tumble in. The people +had moved out of them. The bank was caved away under one corner of some +others, and that corner was hanging over. People lived in them yet, but +it was dangersome, because sometimes a strip of land as wide as a house +caves in at a time. Sometimes a belt of land a quarter of a mile deep +will start in and cave along and cave along till it all caves into the +river in one summer. Such a town as that has to be always moving back, +and back, and back, because the river's always gnawing at it. + +The nearer it got to noon that day the thicker and thicker was the +wagons and horses in the streets, and more coming all the time. + Families fetched their dinners with them from the country, and eat them +in the wagons. There was considerable whisky drinking going on, and I +seen three fights. By and by somebody sings out: + +"Here comes old Boggs!--in from the country for his little old monthly +drunk; here he comes, boys!" + +All the loafers looked glad; I reckoned they was used to having fun out +of Boggs. One of them says: + +"Wonder who he's a-gwyne to chaw up this time. If he'd a-chawed up all +the men he's ben a-gwyne to chaw up in the last twenty year he'd have +considerable ruputation now." + +Another one says, "I wisht old Boggs 'd threaten me, 'cuz then I'd know +I warn't gwyne to die for a thousan' year." + +Boggs comes a-tearing along on his horse, whooping and yelling like an +Injun, and singing out: + +"Cler the track, thar. I'm on the waw-path, and the price uv coffins is +a-gwyne to raise." + +He was drunk, and weaving about in his saddle; he was over fifty year +old, and had a very red face. Everybody yelled at him and laughed at +him and sassed him, and he sassed back, and said he'd attend to them and +lay them out in their regular turns, but he couldn't wait now because +he'd come to town to kill old Colonel Sherburn, and his motto was, "Meat +first, and spoon vittles to top off on." + +He see me, and rode up and says: + +"Whar'd you come f'm, boy? You prepared to die?" + +Then he rode on. I was scared, but a man says: + +"He don't mean nothing; he's always a-carryin' on like that when he's +drunk. He's the best naturedest old fool in Arkansaw--never hurt nobody, +drunk nor sober." + +Boggs rode up before the biggest store in town, and bent his head down +so he could see under the curtain of the awning and yells: + +"Come out here, Sherburn! Come out and meet the man you've swindled. +You're the houn' I'm after, and I'm a-gwyne to have you, too!" + +And so he went on, calling Sherburn everything he could lay his tongue +to, and the whole street packed with people listening and laughing and +going on. By and by a proud-looking man about fifty-five--and he was a +heap the best dressed man in that town, too--steps out of the store, and +the crowd drops back on each side to let him come. He says to Boggs, +mighty ca'm and slow--he says: + +"I'm tired of this, but I'll endure it till one o'clock. Till one +o'clock, mind--no longer. If you open your mouth against me only once +after that time you can't travel so far but I will find you." + +Then he turns and goes in. The crowd looked mighty sober; nobody +stirred, and there warn't no more laughing. Boggs rode off +blackguarding Sherburn as loud as he could yell, all down the street; +and pretty soon back he comes and stops before the store, still keeping +it up. Some men crowded around him and tried to get him to shut up, +but he wouldn't; they told him it would be one o'clock in about fifteen +minutes, and so he _must_ go home--he must go right away. But it didn't +do no good. He cussed away with all his might, and throwed his hat down +in the mud and rode over it, and pretty soon away he went a-raging down +the street again, with his gray hair a-flying. Everybody that could get +a chance at him tried their best to coax him off of his horse so they +could lock him up and get him sober; but it warn't no use--up the street +he would tear again, and give Sherburn another cussing. By and by +somebody says: + +"Go for his daughter!--quick, go for his daughter; sometimes he'll listen +to her. If anybody can persuade him, she can." + +So somebody started on a run. I walked down street a ways and stopped. +In about five or ten minutes here comes Boggs again, but not on his +horse. He was a-reeling across the street towards me, bare-headed, with +a friend on both sides of him a-holt of his arms and hurrying him along. +He was quiet, and looked uneasy; and he warn't hanging back any, but was +doing some of the hurrying himself. Somebody sings out: + +"Boggs!" + +I looked over there to see who said it, and it was that Colonel +Sherburn. He was standing perfectly still in the street, and had a +pistol raised in his right hand--not aiming it, but holding it out with +the barrel tilted up towards the sky. The same second I see a young +girl coming on the run, and two men with her. Boggs and the men turned +round to see who called him, and when they see the pistol the men +jumped to one side, and the pistol-barrel come down slow and steady to +a level--both barrels cocked. Boggs throws up both of his hands and says, +"O Lord, don't shoot!" Bang! goes the first shot, and he staggers back, +clawing at the air--bang! goes the second one, and he tumbles backwards +on to the ground, heavy and solid, with his arms spread out. That young +girl screamed out and comes rushing, and down she throws herself on her +father, crying, and saying, "Oh, he's killed him, he's killed him!" The +crowd closed up around them, and shouldered and jammed one another, with +their necks stretched, trying to see, and people on the inside trying to +shove them back and shouting, "Back, back! give him air, give him air!" + +Colonel Sherburn he tossed his pistol on to the ground, and turned +around on his heels and walked off. + +They took Boggs to a little drug store, the crowd pressing around just +the same, and the whole town following, and I rushed and got a good +place at the window, where I was close to him and could see in. They +laid him on the floor and put one large Bible under his head, and opened +another one and spread it on his breast; but they tore open his shirt +first, and I seen where one of the bullets went in. He made about a +dozen long gasps, his breast lifting the Bible up when he drawed in his +breath, and letting it down again when he breathed it out--and after that +he laid still; he was dead. Then they pulled his daughter away from +him, screaming and crying, and took her off. She was about sixteen, and +very sweet and gentle looking, but awful pale and scared. + +Well, pretty soon the whole town was there, squirming and scrouging and +pushing and shoving to get at the window and have a look, but people +that had the places wouldn't give them up, and folks behind them was +saying all the time, "Say, now, you've looked enough, you fellows; +'tain't right and 'tain't fair for you to stay thar all the time, and +never give nobody a chance; other folks has their rights as well as +you." + +There was considerable jawing back, so I slid out, thinking maybe +there was going to be trouble. The streets was full, and everybody was +excited. Everybody that seen the shooting was telling how it happened, +and there was a big crowd packed around each one of these fellows, +stretching their necks and listening. One long, lanky man, with long +hair and a big white fur stovepipe hat on the back of his head, and a +crooked-handled cane, marked out the places on the ground where Boggs +stood and where Sherburn stood, and the people following him around from +one place to t'other and watching everything he done, and bobbing their +heads to show they understood, and stooping a little and resting their +hands on their thighs to watch him mark the places on the ground with +his cane; and then he stood up straight and stiff where Sherburn had +stood, frowning and having his hat-brim down over his eyes, and sung +out, "Boggs!" and then fetched his cane down slow to a level, and says +"Bang!" staggered backwards, says "Bang!" again, and fell down flat on +his back. The people that had seen the thing said he done it perfect; +said it was just exactly the way it all happened. Then as much as a +dozen people got out their bottles and treated him. + +Well, by and by somebody said Sherburn ought to be lynched. In about a +minute everybody was saying it; so away they went, mad and yelling, and +snatching down every clothes-line they come to to do the hanging with. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +THEY swarmed up towards Sherburn's house, a-whooping and raging like +Injuns, and everything had to clear the way or get run over and tromped +to mush, and it was awful to see. Children was heeling it ahead of the +mob, screaming and trying to get out of the way; and every window along +the road was full of women's heads, and there was nigger boys in every +tree, and bucks and wenches looking over every fence; and as soon as the +mob would get nearly to them they would break and skaddle back out of +reach. Lots of the women and girls was crying and taking on, scared +most to death. + +They swarmed up in front of Sherburn's palings as thick as they could +jam together, and you couldn't hear yourself think for the noise. It +was a little twenty-foot yard. Some sung out "Tear down the fence! tear +down the fence!" Then there was a racket of ripping and tearing and +smashing, and down she goes, and the front wall of the crowd begins to +roll in like a wave. + +Just then Sherburn steps out on to the roof of his little front porch, +with a double-barrel gun in his hand, and takes his stand, perfectly +ca'm and deliberate, not saying a word. The racket stopped, and the +wave sucked back. + +Sherburn never said a word--just stood there, looking down. The +stillness was awful creepy and uncomfortable. Sherburn run his eye slow +along the crowd; and wherever it struck the people tried a little to +out-gaze him, but they couldn't; they dropped their eyes and looked +sneaky. Then pretty soon Sherburn sort of laughed; not the pleasant +kind, but the kind that makes you feel like when you are eating bread +that's got sand in it. + +Then he says, slow and scornful: + +"The idea of _you_ lynching anybody! It's amusing. The idea of you +thinking you had pluck enough to lynch a _man_! Because you're brave +enough to tar and feather poor friendless cast-out women that come along +here, did that make you think you had grit enough to lay your hands on a +_man_? Why, a _man's_ safe in the hands of ten thousand of your kind--as +long as it's daytime and you're not behind him. + +"Do I know you? I know you clear through. I was born and raised in the +South, and I've lived in the North; so I know the average all around. +The average man's a coward. In the North he lets anybody walk over him +that wants to, and goes home and prays for a humble spirit to bear it. +In the South one man all by himself, has stopped a stage full of men +in the daytime, and robbed the lot. Your newspapers call you a +brave people so much that you think you are braver than any other +people--whereas you're just _as_ brave, and no braver. Why don't your +juries hang murderers? Because they're afraid the man's friends will +shoot them in the back, in the dark--and it's just what they _would_ do. + +"So they always acquit; and then a _man_ goes in the night, with a +hundred masked cowards at his back and lynches the rascal. Your mistake +is, that you didn't bring a man with you; that's one mistake, and the +other is that you didn't come in the dark and fetch your masks. You +brought _part_ of a man--Buck Harkness, there--and if you hadn't had him +to start you, you'd a taken it out in blowing. + +"You didn't want to come. The average man don't like trouble and +danger. _You_ don't like trouble and danger. But if only _half_ a +man--like Buck Harkness, there--shouts 'Lynch him! lynch him!' you're +afraid to back down--afraid you'll be found out to be what you +are--_cowards_--and so you raise a yell, and hang yourselves on to that +half-a-man's coat-tail, and come raging up here, swearing what big +things you're going to do. The pitifulest thing out is a mob; that's +what an army is--a mob; they don't fight with courage that's born in +them, but with courage that's borrowed from their mass, and from their +officers. But a mob without any _man_ at the head of it is _beneath_ +pitifulness. Now the thing for _you_ to do is to droop your tails and +go home and crawl in a hole. If any real lynching's going to be done it +will be done in the dark, Southern fashion; and when they come they'll +bring their masks, and fetch a _man_ along. Now _leave_--and take your +half-a-man with you"--tossing his gun up across his left arm and cocking +it when he says this. + +The crowd washed back sudden, and then broke all apart, and went tearing +off every which way, and Buck Harkness he heeled it after them, looking +tolerable cheap. I could a stayed if I wanted to, but I didn't want to. + +I went to the circus and loafed around the back side till the watchman +went by, and then dived in under the tent. I had my twenty-dollar gold +piece and some other money, but I reckoned I better save it, because +there ain't no telling how soon you are going to need it, away from +home and amongst strangers that way. You can't be too careful. I ain't +opposed to spending money on circuses when there ain't no other way, but +there ain't no use in _wasting_ it on them. + +It was a real bully circus. It was the splendidest sight that ever was +when they all come riding in, two and two, a gentleman and lady, side +by side, the men just in their drawers and undershirts, and no shoes +nor stirrups, and resting their hands on their thighs easy and +comfortable--there must a been twenty of them--and every lady with a +lovely complexion, and perfectly beautiful, and looking just like a gang +of real sure-enough queens, and dressed in clothes that cost millions of +dollars, and just littered with diamonds. It was a powerful fine sight; +I never see anything so lovely. And then one by one they got up +and stood, and went a-weaving around the ring so gentle and wavy and +graceful, the men looking ever so tall and airy and straight, with their +heads bobbing and skimming along, away up there under the tent-roof, and +every lady's rose-leafy dress flapping soft and silky around her hips, +and she looking like the most loveliest parasol. + +And then faster and faster they went, all of them dancing, first one +foot out in the air and then the other, the horses leaning more and +more, and the ringmaster going round and round the center-pole, cracking +his whip and shouting "Hi!--hi!" and the clown cracking jokes behind +him; and by and by all hands dropped the reins, and every lady put her +knuckles on her hips and every gentleman folded his arms, and then how +the horses did lean over and hump themselves! And so one after the +other they all skipped off into the ring, and made the sweetest bow I +ever see, and then scampered out, and everybody clapped their hands and +went just about wild. + +Well, all through the circus they done the most astonishing things; and +all the time that clown carried on so it most killed the people. The +ringmaster couldn't ever say a word to him but he was back at him quick +as a wink with the funniest things a body ever said; and how he ever +_could_ think of so many of them, and so sudden and so pat, was what I +couldn't noway understand. Why, I couldn't a thought of them in a year. +And by and by a drunk man tried to get into the ring--said he wanted to +ride; said he could ride as well as anybody that ever was. They argued +and tried to keep him out, but he wouldn't listen, and the whole show +come to a standstill. Then the people begun to holler at him and make +fun of him, and that made him mad, and he begun to rip and tear; so that +stirred up the people, and a lot of men begun to pile down off of the +benches and swarm towards the ring, saying, "Knock him down! throw him +out!" and one or two women begun to scream. So, then, the ringmaster +he made a little speech, and said he hoped there wouldn't be no +disturbance, and if the man would promise he wouldn't make no more +trouble he would let him ride if he thought he could stay on the horse. + So everybody laughed and said all right, and the man got on. The minute +he was on, the horse begun to rip and tear and jump and cavort around, +with two circus men hanging on to his bridle trying to hold him, and the +drunk man hanging on to his neck, and his heels flying in the air every +jump, and the whole crowd of people standing up shouting and laughing +till tears rolled down. And at last, sure enough, all the circus men +could do, the horse broke loose, and away he went like the very nation, +round and round the ring, with that sot laying down on him and hanging +to his neck, with first one leg hanging most to the ground on one side, +and then t'other one on t'other side, and the people just crazy. It +warn't funny to me, though; I was all of a tremble to see his danger. + But pretty soon he struggled up astraddle and grabbed the bridle, +a-reeling this way and that; and the next minute he sprung up and +dropped the bridle and stood! and the horse a-going like a house afire +too. He just stood up there, a-sailing around as easy and comfortable +as if he warn't ever drunk in his life--and then he begun to pull off his +clothes and sling them. He shed them so thick they kind of clogged up +the air, and altogether he shed seventeen suits. And, then, there he +was, slim and handsome, and dressed the gaudiest and prettiest you +ever saw, and he lit into that horse with his whip and made him fairly +hum--and finally skipped off, and made his bow and danced off to +the dressing-room, and everybody just a-howling with pleasure and +astonishment. + +Then the ringmaster he see how he had been fooled, and he _was_ the +sickest ringmaster you ever see, I reckon. Why, it was one of his own +men! He had got up that joke all out of his own head, and never let on +to nobody. Well, I felt sheepish enough to be took in so, but I wouldn't +a been in that ringmaster's place, not for a thousand dollars. I don't +know; there may be bullier circuses than what that one was, but I +never struck them yet. Anyways, it was plenty good enough for _me_; and +wherever I run across it, it can have all of _my_ custom every time. + +Well, that night we had _our_ show; but there warn't only about twelve +people there--just enough to pay expenses. And they laughed all the +time, and that made the duke mad; and everybody left, anyway, before +the show was over, but one boy which was asleep. So the duke said these +Arkansaw lunkheads couldn't come up to Shakespeare; what they wanted +was low comedy--and maybe something ruther worse than low comedy, he +reckoned. He said he could size their style. So next morning he got +some big sheets of wrapping paper and some black paint, and drawed off +some handbills, and stuck them up all over the village. The bills said: + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +WELL, all day him and the king was hard at it, rigging up a stage and +a curtain and a row of candles for footlights; and that night the house +was jam full of men in no time. When the place couldn't hold no more, +the duke he quit tending door and went around the back way and come on +to the stage and stood up before the curtain and made a little speech, +and praised up this tragedy, and said it was the most thrillingest one +that ever was; and so he went on a-bragging about the tragedy, and about +Edmund Kean the Elder, which was to play the main principal part in it; +and at last when he'd got everybody's expectations up high enough, he +rolled up the curtain, and the next minute the king come a-prancing +out on all fours, naked; and he was painted all over, +ring-streaked-and-striped, all sorts of colors, as splendid as a +rainbow. And--but never mind the rest of his outfit; it was just wild, +but it was awful funny. The people most killed themselves laughing; and +when the king got done capering and capered off behind the scenes, they +roared and clapped and stormed and haw-hawed till he come back and done +it over again, and after that they made him do it another time. Well, it +would make a cow laugh to see the shines that old idiot cut. + +Then the duke he lets the curtain down, and bows to the people, and says +the great tragedy will be performed only two nights more, on accounts of +pressing London engagements, where the seats is all sold already for it +in Drury Lane; and then he makes them another bow, and says if he has +succeeded in pleasing them and instructing them, he will be deeply +obleeged if they will mention it to their friends and get them to come +and see it. + +Twenty people sings out: + +"What, is it over? Is that _all_?" + +The duke says yes. Then there was a fine time. Everybody sings +out, "Sold!" and rose up mad, and was a-going for that stage and them +tragedians. But a big, fine looking man jumps up on a bench and shouts: + +"Hold on! Just a word, gentlemen." They stopped to listen. "We are +sold--mighty badly sold. But we don't want to be the laughing stock of +this whole town, I reckon, and never hear the last of this thing as long +as we live. _No_. What we want is to go out of here quiet, and talk +this show up, and sell the _rest_ of the town! Then we'll all be in the +same boat. Ain't that sensible?" ("You bet it is!--the jedge is right!" +everybody sings out.) "All right, then--not a word about any sell. Go +along home, and advise everybody to come and see the tragedy." + +Next day you couldn't hear nothing around that town but how splendid +that show was. House was jammed again that night, and we sold this +crowd the same way. When me and the king and the duke got home to the +raft we all had a supper; and by and by, about midnight, they made Jim +and me back her out and float her down the middle of the river, and +fetch her in and hide her about two mile below town. + +The third night the house was crammed again--and they warn't new-comers +this time, but people that was at the show the other two nights. I +stood by the duke at the door, and I see that every man that went in had +his pockets bulging, or something muffled up under his coat--and I see it +warn't no perfumery, neither, not by a long sight. I smelt sickly eggs +by the barrel, and rotten cabbages, and such things; and if I know the +signs of a dead cat being around, and I bet I do, there was sixty-four +of them went in. I shoved in there for a minute, but it was too various +for me; I couldn't stand it. Well, when the place couldn't hold no more +people the duke he give a fellow a quarter and told him to tend door +for him a minute, and then he started around for the stage door, I after +him; but the minute we turned the corner and was in the dark he says: + +"Walk fast now till you get away from the houses, and then shin for the +raft like the dickens was after you!" + +I done it, and he done the same. We struck the raft at the same time, +and in less than two seconds we was gliding down stream, all dark and +still, and edging towards the middle of the river, nobody saying a +word. I reckoned the poor king was in for a gaudy time of it with the +audience, but nothing of the sort; pretty soon he crawls out from under +the wigwam, and says: + +"Well, how'd the old thing pan out this time, duke?" He hadn't been +up-town at all. + +We never showed a light till we was about ten mile below the village. +Then we lit up and had a supper, and the king and the duke fairly +laughed their bones loose over the way they'd served them people. The +duke says: + +"Greenhorns, flatheads! I knew the first house would keep mum and let +the rest of the town get roped in; and I knew they'd lay for us the +third night, and consider it was _their_ turn now. Well, it _is_ their +turn, and I'd give something to know how much they'd take for it. I +_would_ just like to know how they're putting in their opportunity. + They can turn it into a picnic if they want to--they brought plenty +provisions." + +Them rapscallions took in four hundred and sixty-five dollars in that +three nights. I never see money hauled in by the wagon-load like that +before. By and by, when they was asleep and snoring, Jim says: + +"Don't it s'prise you de way dem kings carries on, Huck?" + +"No," I says, "it don't." + +"Why don't it, Huck?" + +"Well, it don't, because it's in the breed. I reckon they're all +alike." + +"But, Huck, dese kings o' ourn is reglar rapscallions; dat's jist what +dey is; dey's reglar rapscallions." + +"Well, that's what I'm a-saying; all kings is mostly rapscallions, as +fur as I can make out." + +"Is dat so?" + +"You read about them once--you'll see. Look at Henry the Eight; this 'n +'s a Sunday-school Superintendent to _him_. And look at Charles Second, +and Louis Fourteen, and Louis Fifteen, and James Second, and Edward +Second, and Richard Third, and forty more; besides all them Saxon +heptarchies that used to rip around so in old times and raise Cain. My, +you ought to seen old Henry the Eight when he was in bloom. He _was_ a +blossom. He used to marry a new wife every day, and chop off her head +next morning. And he would do it just as indifferent as if he was +ordering up eggs. 'Fetch up Nell Gwynn,' he says. They fetch her up. +Next morning, 'Chop off her head!' And they chop it off. 'Fetch up +Jane Shore,' he says; and up she comes, Next morning, 'Chop off her +head'--and they chop it off. 'Ring up Fair Rosamun.' Fair Rosamun +answers the bell. Next morning, 'Chop off her head.' And he made every +one of them tell him a tale every night; and he kept that up till he had +hogged a thousand and one tales that way, and then he put them all in a +book, and called it Domesday Book--which was a good name and stated the +case. You don't know kings, Jim, but I know them; and this old rip +of ourn is one of the cleanest I've struck in history. Well, Henry he +takes a notion he wants to get up some trouble with this country. How +does he go at it--give notice?--give the country a show? No. All of a +sudden he heaves all the tea in Boston Harbor overboard, and whacks +out a declaration of independence, and dares them to come on. That was +_his_ style--he never give anybody a chance. He had suspicions of his +father, the Duke of Wellington. Well, what did he do? Ask him to show +up? No--drownded him in a butt of mamsey, like a cat. S'pose people +left money laying around where he was--what did he do? He collared it. + S'pose he contracted to do a thing, and you paid him, and didn't set +down there and see that he done it--what did he do? He always done the +other thing. S'pose he opened his mouth--what then? If he didn't shut it +up powerful quick he'd lose a lie every time. That's the kind of a bug +Henry was; and if we'd a had him along 'stead of our kings he'd a fooled +that town a heap worse than ourn done. I don't say that ourn is lambs, +because they ain't, when you come right down to the cold facts; but they +ain't nothing to _that_ old ram, anyway. All I say is, kings is kings, +and you got to make allowances. Take them all around, they're a mighty +ornery lot. It's the way they're raised." + +"But dis one do _smell_ so like de nation, Huck." + +"Well, they all do, Jim. We can't help the way a king smells; history +don't tell no way." + +"Now de duke, he's a tolerble likely man in some ways." + +"Yes, a duke's different. But not very different. This one's +a middling hard lot for a duke. When he's drunk there ain't no +near-sighted man could tell him from a king." + +"Well, anyways, I doan' hanker for no mo' un um, Huck. Dese is all I +kin stan'." + +"It's the way I feel, too, Jim. But we've got them on our hands, and we +got to remember what they are, and make allowances. Sometimes I wish we +could hear of a country that's out of kings." + +What was the use to tell Jim these warn't real kings and dukes? It +wouldn't a done no good; and, besides, it was just as I said: you +couldn't tell them from the real kind. + +I went to sleep, and Jim didn't call me when it was my turn. He often +done that. When I waked up just at daybreak he was sitting there with +his head down betwixt his knees, moaning and mourning to himself. I +didn't take notice nor let on. I knowed what it was about. He was +thinking about his wife and his children, away up yonder, and he was low +and homesick; because he hadn't ever been away from home before in his +life; and I do believe he cared just as much for his people as white +folks does for their'n. It don't seem natural, but I reckon it's so. + He was often moaning and mourning that way nights, when he judged I +was asleep, and saying, "Po' little 'Lizabeth! po' little Johnny! it's +mighty hard; I spec' I ain't ever gwyne to see you no mo', no mo'!" He +was a mighty good nigger, Jim was. + +But this time I somehow got to talking to him about his wife and young +ones; and by and by he says: + +"What makes me feel so bad dis time 'uz bekase I hear sumpn over yonder +on de bank like a whack, er a slam, while ago, en it mine me er de time +I treat my little 'Lizabeth so ornery. She warn't on'y 'bout fo' year +ole, en she tuck de sk'yarlet fever, en had a powful rough spell; but +she got well, en one day she was a-stannin' aroun', en I says to her, I +says: + +"'Shet de do'.' + +"She never done it; jis' stood dah, kiner smilin' up at me. It make me +mad; en I says agin, mighty loud, I says: + +"'Doan' you hear me? Shet de do'!' + +"She jis stood de same way, kiner smilin' up. I was a-bilin'! I says: + +"'I lay I _make_ you mine!' + +"En wid dat I fetch' her a slap side de head dat sont her a-sprawlin'. +Den I went into de yuther room, en 'uz gone 'bout ten minutes; en when +I come back dah was dat do' a-stannin' open _yit_, en dat chile stannin' +mos' right in it, a-lookin' down and mournin', en de tears runnin' down. + My, but I _wuz_ mad! I was a-gwyne for de chile, but jis' den--it was a +do' dat open innerds--jis' den, 'long come de wind en slam it to, behine +de chile, ker-BLAM!--en my lan', de chile never move'! My breff mos' +hop outer me; en I feel so--so--I doan' know HOW I feel. I crope out, +all a-tremblin', en crope aroun' en open de do' easy en slow, en poke my +head in behine de chile, sof' en still, en all uv a sudden I says POW! +jis' as loud as I could yell. _She never budge!_ Oh, Huck, I bust out +a-cryin' en grab her up in my arms, en say, 'Oh, de po' little thing! + De Lord God Amighty fogive po' ole Jim, kaze he never gwyne to fogive +hisself as long's he live!' Oh, she was plumb deef en dumb, Huck, plumb +deef en dumb--en I'd ben a-treat'n her so!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +NEXT day, towards night, we laid up under a little willow towhead out in +the middle, where there was a village on each side of the river, and the +duke and the king begun to lay out a plan for working them towns. Jim +he spoke to the duke, and said he hoped it wouldn't take but a few +hours, because it got mighty heavy and tiresome to him when he had to +lay all day in the wigwam tied with the rope. You see, when we left him +all alone we had to tie him, because if anybody happened on to him all +by himself and not tied it wouldn't look much like he was a runaway +nigger, you know. So the duke said it _was_ kind of hard to have to lay +roped all day, and he'd cipher out some way to get around it. + +He was uncommon bright, the duke was, and he soon struck it. He dressed +Jim up in King Lear's outfit--it was a long curtain-calico gown, and a +white horse-hair wig and whiskers; and then he took his theater paint +and painted Jim's face and hands and ears and neck all over a dead, +dull, solid blue, like a man that's been drownded nine days. Blamed if +he warn't the horriblest looking outrage I ever see. Then the duke took +and wrote out a sign on a shingle so: + +Sick Arab--but harmless when not out of his head. + +And he nailed that shingle to a lath, and stood the lath up four or five +foot in front of the wigwam. Jim was satisfied. He said it was a sight +better than lying tied a couple of years every day, and trembling all +over every time there was a sound. The duke told him to make himself +free and easy, and if anybody ever come meddling around, he must hop +out of the wigwam, and carry on a little, and fetch a howl or two like +a wild beast, and he reckoned they would light out and leave him alone. + Which was sound enough judgment; but you take the average man, and he +wouldn't wait for him to howl. Why, he didn't only look like he was +dead, he looked considerable more than that. + +These rapscallions wanted to try the Nonesuch again, because there was +so much money in it, but they judged it wouldn't be safe, because maybe +the news might a worked along down by this time. They couldn't hit no +project that suited exactly; so at last the duke said he reckoned he'd +lay off and work his brains an hour or two and see if he couldn't put up +something on the Arkansaw village; and the king he allowed he would drop +over to t'other village without any plan, but just trust in Providence +to lead him the profitable way--meaning the devil, I reckon. We had all +bought store clothes where we stopped last; and now the king put his'n +on, and he told me to put mine on. I done it, of course. The king's +duds was all black, and he did look real swell and starchy. I never +knowed how clothes could change a body before. Why, before, he looked +like the orneriest old rip that ever was; but now, when he'd take off +his new white beaver and make a bow and do a smile, he looked that grand +and good and pious that you'd say he had walked right out of the ark, +and maybe was old Leviticus himself. Jim cleaned up the canoe, and I +got my paddle ready. There was a big steamboat laying at the shore away +up under the point, about three mile above the town--been there a couple +of hours, taking on freight. Says the king: + +"Seein' how I'm dressed, I reckon maybe I better arrive down from St. +Louis or Cincinnati, or some other big place. Go for the steamboat, +Huckleberry; we'll come down to the village on her." + +I didn't have to be ordered twice to go and take a steamboat ride. + I fetched the shore a half a mile above the village, and then went +scooting along the bluff bank in the easy water. Pretty soon we come to +a nice innocent-looking young country jake setting on a log swabbing the +sweat off of his face, for it was powerful warm weather; and he had a +couple of big carpet-bags by him. + +"Run her nose in shore," says the king. I done it. "Wher' you bound +for, young man?" + +"For the steamboat; going to Orleans." + +"Git aboard," says the king. "Hold on a minute, my servant 'll he'p you +with them bags. Jump out and he'p the gentleman, Adolphus"--meaning me, +I see. + +I done so, and then we all three started on again. The young chap was +mighty thankful; said it was tough work toting his baggage such weather. +He asked the king where he was going, and the king told him he'd come +down the river and landed at the other village this morning, and now he +was going up a few mile to see an old friend on a farm up there. The +young fellow says: + +"When I first see you I says to myself, 'It's Mr. Wilks, sure, and he +come mighty near getting here in time.' But then I says again, 'No, I +reckon it ain't him, or else he wouldn't be paddling up the river.' You +_ain't_ him, are you?" + +"No, my name's Blodgett--Elexander Blodgett--_Reverend_ Elexander +Blodgett, I s'pose I must say, as I'm one o' the Lord's poor servants. + But still I'm jist as able to be sorry for Mr. Wilks for not arriving +in time, all the same, if he's missed anything by it--which I hope he +hasn't." + +"Well, he don't miss any property by it, because he'll get that all +right; but he's missed seeing his brother Peter die--which he mayn't +mind, nobody can tell as to that--but his brother would a give anything +in this world to see _him_ before he died; never talked about nothing +else all these three weeks; hadn't seen him since they was boys +together--and hadn't ever seen his brother William at all--that's the deef +and dumb one--William ain't more than thirty or thirty-five. Peter and +George were the only ones that come out here; George was the married +brother; him and his wife both died last year. Harvey and William's the +only ones that's left now; and, as I was saying, they haven't got here +in time." + +"Did anybody send 'em word?" + +"Oh, yes; a month or two ago, when Peter was first took; because Peter +said then that he sorter felt like he warn't going to get well this +time. You see, he was pretty old, and George's g'yirls was too young to +be much company for him, except Mary Jane, the red-headed one; and so he +was kinder lonesome after George and his wife died, and didn't seem +to care much to live. He most desperately wanted to see Harvey--and +William, too, for that matter--because he was one of them kind that can't +bear to make a will. He left a letter behind for Harvey, and said he'd +told in it where his money was hid, and how he wanted the rest of the +property divided up so George's g'yirls would be all right--for George +didn't leave nothing. And that letter was all they could get him to put +a pen to." + +"Why do you reckon Harvey don't come? Wher' does he live?" + +"Oh, he lives in England--Sheffield--preaches there--hasn't ever been in +this country. He hasn't had any too much time--and besides he mightn't a +got the letter at all, you know." + +"Too bad, too bad he couldn't a lived to see his brothers, poor soul. +You going to Orleans, you say?" + +"Yes, but that ain't only a part of it. I'm going in a ship, next +Wednesday, for Ryo Janeero, where my uncle lives." + +"It's a pretty long journey. But it'll be lovely; wisht I was a-going. +Is Mary Jane the oldest? How old is the others?" + +"Mary Jane's nineteen, Susan's fifteen, and Joanna's about +fourteen--that's the one that gives herself to good works and has a +hare-lip." + +"Poor things! to be left alone in the cold world so." + +"Well, they could be worse off. Old Peter had friends, and they +ain't going to let them come to no harm. There's Hobson, the Babtis' +preacher; and Deacon Lot Hovey, and Ben Rucker, and Abner Shackleford, +and Levi Bell, the lawyer; and Dr. Robinson, and their wives, and the +widow Bartley, and--well, there's a lot of them; but these are the ones +that Peter was thickest with, and used to write about sometimes, when +he wrote home; so Harvey 'll know where to look for friends when he gets +here." + +Well, the old man went on asking questions till he just fairly emptied +that young fellow. Blamed if he didn't inquire about everybody and +everything in that blessed town, and all about the Wilkses; and about +Peter's business--which was a tanner; and about George's--which was a +carpenter; and about Harvey's--which was a dissentering minister; and so +on, and so on. Then he says: + +"What did you want to walk all the way up to the steamboat for?" + +"Because she's a big Orleans boat, and I was afeard she mightn't stop +there. When they're deep they won't stop for a hail. A Cincinnati boat +will, but this is a St. Louis one." + +"Was Peter Wilks well off?" + +"Oh, yes, pretty well off. He had houses and land, and it's reckoned he +left three or four thousand in cash hid up som'ers." + +"When did you say he died?" + +"I didn't say, but it was last night." + +"Funeral to-morrow, likely?" + +"Yes, 'bout the middle of the day." + +"Well, it's all terrible sad; but we've all got to go, one time or +another. So what we want to do is to be prepared; then we're all right." + +"Yes, sir, it's the best way. Ma used to always say that." + +When we struck the boat she was about done loading, and pretty soon she +got off. The king never said nothing about going aboard, so I lost +my ride, after all. When the boat was gone the king made me paddle up +another mile to a lonesome place, and then he got ashore and says: + +"Now hustle back, right off, and fetch the duke up here, and the new +carpet-bags. And if he's gone over to t'other side, go over there and +git him. And tell him to git himself up regardless. Shove along, now." + +I see what _he_ was up to; but I never said nothing, of course. When +I got back with the duke we hid the canoe, and then they set down on a +log, and the king told him everything, just like the young fellow had +said it--every last word of it. And all the time he was a-doing it he +tried to talk like an Englishman; and he done it pretty well, too, for +a slouch. I can't imitate him, and so I ain't a-going to try to; but he +really done it pretty good. Then he says: + +"How are you on the deef and dumb, Bilgewater?" + +The duke said, leave him alone for that; said he had played a deef +and dumb person on the histronic boards. So then they waited for a +steamboat. + +About the middle of the afternoon a couple of little boats come along, +but they didn't come from high enough up the river; but at last there +was a big one, and they hailed her. She sent out her yawl, and we went +aboard, and she was from Cincinnati; and when they found we only wanted +to go four or five mile they was booming mad, and gave us a cussing, and +said they wouldn't land us. But the king was ca'm. He says: + +"If gentlemen kin afford to pay a dollar a mile apiece to be took on and +put off in a yawl, a steamboat kin afford to carry 'em, can't it?" + +So they softened down and said it was all right; and when we got to the +village they yawled us ashore. About two dozen men flocked down when +they see the yawl a-coming, and when the king says: + +"Kin any of you gentlemen tell me wher' Mr. Peter Wilks lives?" they +give a glance at one another, and nodded their heads, as much as to say, +"What d' I tell you?" Then one of them says, kind of soft and gentle: + +"I'm sorry sir, but the best we can do is to tell you where he _did_ +live yesterday evening." + +Sudden as winking the ornery old cretur went an to smash, and fell up +against the man, and put his chin on his shoulder, and cried down his +back, and says: + +"Alas, alas, our poor brother--gone, and we never got to see him; oh, +it's too, too hard!" + +Then he turns around, blubbering, and makes a lot of idiotic signs to +the duke on his hands, and blamed if he didn't drop a carpet-bag and +bust out a-crying. If they warn't the beatenest lot, them two frauds, +that ever I struck. + +Well, the men gathered around and sympathized with them, and said all +sorts of kind things to them, and carried their carpet-bags up the hill +for them, and let them lean on them and cry, and told the king all about +his brother's last moments, and the king he told it all over again on +his hands to the duke, and both of them took on about that dead tanner +like they'd lost the twelve disciples. Well, if ever I struck anything +like it, I'm a nigger. It was enough to make a body ashamed of the human +race. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +THE news was all over town in two minutes, and you could see the people +tearing down on the run from every which way, some of them putting on +their coats as they come. Pretty soon we was in the middle of a crowd, +and the noise of the tramping was like a soldier march. The windows and +dooryards was full; and every minute somebody would say, over a fence: + +"Is it _them_?" + +And somebody trotting along with the gang would answer back and say: + +"You bet it is." + +When we got to the house the street in front of it was packed, and the +three girls was standing in the door. Mary Jane _was_ red-headed, but +that don't make no difference, she was most awful beautiful, and her +face and her eyes was all lit up like glory, she was so glad her uncles +was come. The king he spread his arms, and Mary Jane she jumped for +them, and the hare-lip jumped for the duke, and there they had it! + Everybody most, leastways women, cried for joy to see them meet again +at last and have such good times. + +Then the king he hunched the duke private--I see him do it--and then he +looked around and see the coffin, over in the corner on two chairs; so +then him and the duke, with a hand across each other's shoulder, and +t'other hand to their eyes, walked slow and solemn over there, everybody +dropping back to give them room, and all the talk and noise stopping, +people saying "Sh!" and all the men taking their hats off and drooping +their heads, so you could a heard a pin fall. And when they got there +they bent over and looked in the coffin, and took one sight, and then +they bust out a-crying so you could a heard them to Orleans, most; and +then they put their arms around each other's necks, and hung their chins +over each other's shoulders; and then for three minutes, or maybe four, +I never see two men leak the way they done. And, mind you, everybody +was doing the same; and the place was that damp I never see anything +like it. Then one of them got on one side of the coffin, and t'other on +t'other side, and they kneeled down and rested their foreheads on the +coffin, and let on to pray all to themselves. Well, when it come +to that it worked the crowd like you never see anything like it, and +everybody broke down and went to sobbing right out loud--the poor girls, +too; and every woman, nearly, went up to the girls, without saying a +word, and kissed them, solemn, on the forehead, and then put their hand +on their head, and looked up towards the sky, with the tears running +down, and then busted out and went off sobbing and swabbing, and give +the next woman a show. I never see anything so disgusting. + +Well, by and by the king he gets up and comes forward a little, and +works himself up and slobbers out a speech, all full of tears and +flapdoodle about its being a sore trial for him and his poor brother +to lose the diseased, and to miss seeing diseased alive after the long +journey of four thousand mile, but it's a trial that's sweetened and +sanctified to us by this dear sympathy and these holy tears, and so he +thanks them out of his heart and out of his brother's heart, because out +of their mouths they can't, words being too weak and cold, and all that +kind of rot and slush, till it was just sickening; and then he blubbers +out a pious goody-goody Amen, and turns himself loose and goes to crying +fit to bust. + +And the minute the words were out of his mouth somebody over in the +crowd struck up the doxolojer, and everybody joined in with all their +might, and it just warmed you up and made you feel as good as church +letting out. Music is a good thing; and after all that soul-butter and +hogwash I never see it freshen up things so, and sound so honest and +bully. + +Then the king begins to work his jaw again, and says how him and his +nieces would be glad if a few of the main principal friends of the +family would take supper here with them this evening, and help set up +with the ashes of the diseased; and says if his poor brother laying +yonder could speak he knows who he would name, for they was names that +was very dear to him, and mentioned often in his letters; and so he will +name the same, to wit, as follows, vizz.:--Rev. Mr. Hobson, and Deacon +Lot Hovey, and Mr. Ben Rucker, and Abner Shackleford, and Levi Bell, and +Dr. Robinson, and their wives, and the widow Bartley. + +Rev. Hobson and Dr. Robinson was down to the end of the town a-hunting +together--that is, I mean the doctor was shipping a sick man to t'other +world, and the preacher was pinting him right. Lawyer Bell was away up +to Louisville on business. But the rest was on hand, and so they all +come and shook hands with the king and thanked him and talked to him; +and then they shook hands with the duke and didn't say nothing, but just +kept a-smiling and bobbing their heads like a passel of sapheads whilst +he made all sorts of signs with his hands and said "Goo-goo--goo-goo-goo" +all the time, like a baby that can't talk. + +So the king he blattered along, and managed to inquire about pretty +much everybody and dog in town, by his name, and mentioned all sorts +of little things that happened one time or another in the town, or to +George's family, or to Peter. And he always let on that Peter wrote him +the things; but that was a lie: he got every blessed one of them out of +that young flathead that we canoed up to the steamboat. + +Then Mary Jane she fetched the letter her father left behind, and the +king he read it out loud and cried over it. It give the dwelling-house +and three thousand dollars, gold, to the girls; and it give the tanyard +(which was doing a good business), along with some other houses and +land (worth about seven thousand), and three thousand dollars in gold +to Harvey and William, and told where the six thousand cash was hid down +cellar. So these two frauds said they'd go and fetch it up, and have +everything square and above-board; and told me to come with a candle. + We shut the cellar door behind us, and when they found the bag +they spilt it out on the floor, and it was a lovely sight, all them +yaller-boys. My, the way the king's eyes did shine! He slaps the duke +on the shoulder and says: + +"Oh, _this_ ain't bully nor noth'n! Oh, no, I reckon not! Why, +_bully_, it beats the Nonesuch, _don't_ it?" + +The duke allowed it did. They pawed the yaller-boys, and sifted them +through their fingers and let them jingle down on the floor; and the +king says: + +"It ain't no use talkin'; bein' brothers to a rich dead man and +representatives of furrin heirs that's got left is the line for you and +me, Bilge. Thish yer comes of trust'n to Providence. It's the best +way, in the long run. I've tried 'em all, and ther' ain't no better +way." + +Most everybody would a been satisfied with the pile, and took it on +trust; but no, they must count it. So they counts it, and it comes out +four hundred and fifteen dollars short. Says the king: + +"Dern him, I wonder what he done with that four hundred and fifteen +dollars?" + +They worried over that awhile, and ransacked all around for it. Then +the duke says: + +"Well, he was a pretty sick man, and likely he made a mistake--I reckon +that's the way of it. The best way's to let it go, and keep still about +it. We can spare it." + +"Oh, shucks, yes, we can _spare_ it. I don't k'yer noth'n 'bout +that--it's the _count_ I'm thinkin' about. We want to be awful square +and open and above-board here, you know. We want to lug this h-yer +money up stairs and count it before everybody--then ther' ain't noth'n +suspicious. But when the dead man says ther's six thous'n dollars, you +know, we don't want to--" + +"Hold on," says the duke. "Le's make up the deffisit," and he begun to +haul out yaller-boys out of his pocket. + +"It's a most amaz'n' good idea, duke--you _have_ got a rattlin' clever +head on you," says the king. "Blest if the old Nonesuch ain't a heppin' +us out agin," and _he_ begun to haul out yaller-jackets and stack them +up. + +It most busted them, but they made up the six thousand clean and clear. + +"Say," says the duke, "I got another idea. Le's go up stairs and count +this money, and then take and _give it to the girls_." + +"Good land, duke, lemme hug you! It's the most dazzling idea 'at ever a +man struck. You have cert'nly got the most astonishin' head I ever see. +Oh, this is the boss dodge, ther' ain't no mistake 'bout it. Let 'em +fetch along their suspicions now if they want to--this 'll lay 'em out." + +When we got up-stairs everybody gethered around the table, and the king +he counted it and stacked it up, three hundred dollars in a pile--twenty +elegant little piles. Everybody looked hungry at it, and licked their +chops. Then they raked it into the bag again, and I see the king begin +to swell himself up for another speech. He says: + +"Friends all, my poor brother that lays yonder has done generous by +them that's left behind in the vale of sorrers. He has done generous by +these yer poor little lambs that he loved and sheltered, and that's left +fatherless and motherless. Yes, and we that knowed him knows that he +would a done _more_ generous by 'em if he hadn't ben afeard o' woundin' +his dear William and me. Now, _wouldn't_ he? Ther' ain't no question +'bout it in _my_ mind. Well, then, what kind o' brothers would it be +that 'd stand in his way at sech a time? And what kind o' uncles would +it be that 'd rob--yes, _rob_--sech poor sweet lambs as these 'at he loved +so at sech a time? If I know William--and I _think_ I do--he--well, I'll +jest ask him." He turns around and begins to make a lot of signs to +the duke with his hands, and the duke he looks at him stupid and +leather-headed a while; then all of a sudden he seems to catch his +meaning, and jumps for the king, goo-gooing with all his might for joy, +and hugs him about fifteen times before he lets up. Then the king says, +"I knowed it; I reckon _that 'll_ convince anybody the way _he_ feels +about it. Here, Mary Jane, Susan, Joanner, take the money--take it +_all_. It's the gift of him that lays yonder, cold but joyful." + +Mary Jane she went for him, Susan and the hare-lip went for the +duke, and then such another hugging and kissing I never see yet. And +everybody crowded up with the tears in their eyes, and most shook the +hands off of them frauds, saying all the time: + +"You _dear_ good souls!--how _lovely_!--how _could_ you!" + +Well, then, pretty soon all hands got to talking about the diseased +again, and how good he was, and what a loss he was, and all that; and +before long a big iron-jawed man worked himself in there from outside, +and stood a-listening and looking, and not saying anything; and nobody +saying anything to him either, because the king was talking and they was +all busy listening. The king was saying--in the middle of something he'd +started in on-- + +"--they bein' partickler friends o' the diseased. That's why they're +invited here this evenin'; but tomorrow we want _all_ to come--everybody; +for he respected everybody, he liked everybody, and so it's fitten that +his funeral orgies sh'd be public." + +And so he went a-mooning on and on, liking to hear himself talk, and +every little while he fetched in his funeral orgies again, till the duke +he couldn't stand it no more; so he writes on a little scrap of paper, +"_Obsequies_, you old fool," and folds it up, and goes to goo-gooing and +reaching it over people's heads to him. The king he reads it and puts +it in his pocket, and says: + +"Poor William, afflicted as he is, his _heart's_ aluz right. Asks me +to invite everybody to come to the funeral--wants me to make 'em all +welcome. But he needn't a worried--it was jest what I was at." + +Then he weaves along again, perfectly ca'm, and goes to dropping in his +funeral orgies again every now and then, just like he done before. And +when he done it the third time he says: + +"I say orgies, not because it's the common term, because it +ain't--obsequies bein' the common term--but because orgies is the right +term. Obsequies ain't used in England no more now--it's gone out. We +say orgies now in England. Orgies is better, because it means the thing +you're after more exact. It's a word that's made up out'n the Greek +_orgo_, outside, open, abroad; and the Hebrew _jeesum_, to plant, cover +up; hence in_ter._ So, you see, funeral orgies is an open er public +funeral." + +He was the _worst_ I ever struck. Well, the iron-jawed man he laughed +right in his face. Everybody was shocked. Everybody says, "Why, +_doctor_!" and Abner Shackleford says: + +"Why, Robinson, hain't you heard the news? This is Harvey Wilks." + +The king he smiled eager, and shoved out his flapper, and says: + +"Is it my poor brother's dear good friend and physician? I--" + +"Keep your hands off of me!" says the doctor. "_You_ talk like an +Englishman, _don't_ you? It's the worst imitation I ever heard. _You_ +Peter Wilks's brother! You're a fraud, that's what you are!" + +Well, how they all took on! They crowded around the doctor and tried to +quiet him down, and tried to explain to him and tell him how Harvey 'd +showed in forty ways that he _was_ Harvey, and knowed everybody by name, +and the names of the very dogs, and begged and _begged_ him not to hurt +Harvey's feelings and the poor girl's feelings, and all that. But it +warn't no use; he stormed right along, and said any man that pretended +to be an Englishman and couldn't imitate the lingo no better than what +he did was a fraud and a liar. The poor girls was hanging to the king +and crying; and all of a sudden the doctor ups and turns on _them_. He +says: + +"I was your father's friend, and I'm your friend; and I warn you as a +friend, and an honest one that wants to protect you and keep you out of +harm and trouble, to turn your backs on that scoundrel and have nothing +to do with him, the ignorant tramp, with his idiotic Greek and Hebrew, +as he calls it. He is the thinnest kind of an impostor--has come here +with a lot of empty names and facts which he picked up somewheres, and +you take them for _proofs_, and are helped to fool yourselves by these +foolish friends here, who ought to know better. Mary Jane Wilks, you +know me for your friend, and for your unselfish friend, too. Now listen +to me; turn this pitiful rascal out--I _beg_ you to do it. Will you?" + +Mary Jane straightened herself up, and my, but she was handsome! She +says: + +"_Here_ is my answer." She hove up the bag of money and put it in the +king's hands, and says, "Take this six thousand dollars, and invest for +me and my sisters any way you want to, and don't give us no receipt for +it." + +Then she put her arm around the king on one side, and Susan and the +hare-lip done the same on the other. Everybody clapped their hands and +stomped on the floor like a perfect storm, whilst the king held up his +head and smiled proud. The doctor says: + +"All right; I wash _my_ hands of the matter. But I warn you all that a +time 's coming when you're going to feel sick whenever you think of this +day." And away he went. + +"All right, doctor," says the king, kinder mocking him; "we'll try and +get 'em to send for you;" which made them all laugh, and they said it +was a prime good hit. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +WELL, when they was all gone the king he asks Mary Jane how they was off +for spare rooms, and she said she had one spare room, which would do for +Uncle William, and she'd give her own room to Uncle Harvey, which was +a little bigger, and she would turn into the room with her sisters and +sleep on a cot; and up garret was a little cubby, with a pallet in it. +The king said the cubby would do for his valley--meaning me. + +So Mary Jane took us up, and she showed them their rooms, which was +plain but nice. She said she'd have her frocks and a lot of other traps +took out of her room if they was in Uncle Harvey's way, but he said +they warn't. The frocks was hung along the wall, and before them was +a curtain made out of calico that hung down to the floor. There was an +old hair trunk in one corner, and a guitar-box in another, and all sorts +of little knickknacks and jimcracks around, like girls brisken up a room +with. The king said it was all the more homely and more pleasanter for +these fixings, and so don't disturb them. The duke's room was pretty +small, but plenty good enough, and so was my cubby. + +That night they had a big supper, and all them men and women was there, +and I stood behind the king and the duke's chairs and waited on them, +and the niggers waited on the rest. Mary Jane she set at the head of +the table, with Susan alongside of her, and said how bad the biscuits +was, and how mean the preserves was, and how ornery and tough the fried +chickens was--and all that kind of rot, the way women always do for to +force out compliments; and the people all knowed everything was tiptop, +and said so--said "How _do_ you get biscuits to brown so nice?" and +"Where, for the land's sake, _did_ you get these amaz'n pickles?" and +all that kind of humbug talky-talk, just the way people always does at a +supper, you know. + +And when it was all done me and the hare-lip had supper in the kitchen +off of the leavings, whilst the others was helping the niggers clean up +the things. The hare-lip she got to pumping me about England, and blest +if I didn't think the ice was getting mighty thin sometimes. She says: + +"Did you ever see the king?" + +"Who? William Fourth? Well, I bet I have--he goes to our church." I +knowed he was dead years ago, but I never let on. So when I says he +goes to our church, she says: + +"What--regular?" + +"Yes--regular. His pew's right over opposite ourn--on t'other side the +pulpit." + +"I thought he lived in London?" + +"Well, he does. Where _would_ he live?" + +"But I thought _you_ lived in Sheffield?" + +I see I was up a stump. I had to let on to get choked with a chicken +bone, so as to get time to think how to get down again. Then I says: + +"I mean he goes to our church regular when he's in Sheffield. That's +only in the summer time, when he comes there to take the sea baths." + +"Why, how you talk--Sheffield ain't on the sea." + +"Well, who said it was?" + +"Why, you did." + +"I _didn't_ nuther." + +"You did!" + +"I didn't." + +"You did." + +"I never said nothing of the kind." + +"Well, what _did_ you say, then?" + +"Said he come to take the sea _baths_--that's what I said." + +"Well, then, how's he going to take the sea baths if it ain't on the +sea?" + +"Looky here," I says; "did you ever see any Congress-water?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, did you have to go to Congress to get it?" + +"Why, no." + +"Well, neither does William Fourth have to go to the sea to get a sea +bath." + +"How does he get it, then?" + +"Gets it the way people down here gets Congress-water--in barrels. There +in the palace at Sheffield they've got furnaces, and he wants his water +hot. They can't bile that amount of water away off there at the sea. +They haven't got no conveniences for it." + +"Oh, I see, now. You might a said that in the first place and saved +time." + +When she said that I see I was out of the woods again, and so I was +comfortable and glad. Next, she says: + +"Do you go to church, too?" + +"Yes--regular." + +"Where do you set?" + +"Why, in our pew." + +"_Whose_ pew?" + +"Why, _ourn_--your Uncle Harvey's." + +"His'n? What does _he_ want with a pew?" + +"Wants it to set in. What did you _reckon_ he wanted with it?" + +"Why, I thought he'd be in the pulpit." + +Rot him, I forgot he was a preacher. I see I was up a stump again, so I +played another chicken bone and got another think. Then I says: + +"Blame it, do you suppose there ain't but one preacher to a church?" + +"Why, what do they want with more?" + +"What!--to preach before a king? I never did see such a girl as you. +They don't have no less than seventeen." + +"Seventeen! My land! Why, I wouldn't set out such a string as that, +not if I _never_ got to glory. It must take 'em a week." + +"Shucks, they don't _all_ of 'em preach the same day--only _one_ of 'em." + +"Well, then, what does the rest of 'em do?" + +"Oh, nothing much. Loll around, pass the plate--and one thing or +another. But mainly they don't do nothing." + +"Well, then, what are they _for_?" + +"Why, they're for _style_. Don't you know nothing?" + +"Well, I don't _want_ to know no such foolishness as that. How is +servants treated in England? Do they treat 'em better 'n we treat our +niggers?" + +"_No_! A servant ain't nobody there. They treat them worse than dogs." + +"Don't they give 'em holidays, the way we do, Christmas and New Year's +week, and Fourth of July?" + +"Oh, just listen! A body could tell _you_ hain't ever been to England +by that. Why, Hare-l--why, Joanna, they never see a holiday from year's +end to year's end; never go to the circus, nor theater, nor nigger +shows, nor nowheres." + +"Nor church?" + +"Nor church." + +"But _you_ always went to church." + +Well, I was gone up again. I forgot I was the old man's servant. But +next minute I whirled in on a kind of an explanation how a valley was +different from a common servant and _had_ to go to church whether he +wanted to or not, and set with the family, on account of its being the +law. But I didn't do it pretty good, and when I got done I see she +warn't satisfied. She says: + +"Honest injun, now, hain't you been telling me a lot of lies?" + +"Honest injun," says I. + +"None of it at all?" + +"None of it at all. Not a lie in it," says I. + +"Lay your hand on this book and say it." + +I see it warn't nothing but a dictionary, so I laid my hand on it and +said it. So then she looked a little better satisfied, and says: + +"Well, then, I'll believe some of it; but I hope to gracious if I'll +believe the rest." + +"What is it you won't believe, Joe?" says Mary Jane, stepping in with +Susan behind her. "It ain't right nor kind for you to talk so to him, +and him a stranger and so far from his people. How would you like to be +treated so?" + +"That's always your way, Maim--always sailing in to help somebody before +they're hurt. I hain't done nothing to him. He's told some stretchers, +I reckon, and I said I wouldn't swallow it all; and that's every bit +and grain I _did_ say. I reckon he can stand a little thing like that, +can't he?" + +"I don't care whether 'twas little or whether 'twas big; he's here in +our house and a stranger, and it wasn't good of you to say it. If you +was in his place it would make you feel ashamed; and so you oughtn't to +say a thing to another person that will make _them_ feel ashamed." + +"Why, Mam, he said--" + +"It don't make no difference what he _said_--that ain't the thing. The +thing is for you to treat him _kind_, and not be saying things to make +him remember he ain't in his own country and amongst his own folks." + +I says to myself, _this_ is a girl that I'm letting that old reptile rob +her of her money! + +Then Susan _she_ waltzed in; and if you'll believe me, she did give +Hare-lip hark from the tomb! + +Says I to myself, and this is _another_ one that I'm letting him rob her +of her money! + +Then Mary Jane she took another inning, and went in sweet and lovely +again--which was her way; but when she got done there warn't hardly +anything left o' poor Hare-lip. So she hollered. + +"All right, then," says the other girls; "you just ask his pardon." + +She done it, too; and she done it beautiful. She done it so beautiful +it was good to hear; and I wished I could tell her a thousand lies, so +she could do it again. + +I says to myself, this is _another_ one that I'm letting him rob her of +her money. And when she got through they all jest laid theirselves +out to make me feel at home and know I was amongst friends. I felt so +ornery and low down and mean that I says to myself, my mind's made up; +I'll hive that money for them or bust. + +So then I lit out--for bed, I said, meaning some time or another. When +I got by myself I went to thinking the thing over. I says to myself, +shall I go to that doctor, private, and blow on these frauds? No--that +won't do. He might tell who told him; then the king and the duke would +make it warm for me. Shall I go, private, and tell Mary Jane? No--I +dasn't do it. Her face would give them a hint, sure; they've got the +money, and they'd slide right out and get away with it. If she was to +fetch in help I'd get mixed up in the business before it was done with, +I judge. No; there ain't no good way but one. I got to steal that +money, somehow; and I got to steal it some way that they won't suspicion +that I done it. They've got a good thing here, and they ain't a-going +to leave till they've played this family and this town for all they're +worth, so I'll find a chance time enough. I'll steal it and hide it; and +by and by, when I'm away down the river, I'll write a letter and tell +Mary Jane where it's hid. But I better hive it tonight if I can, +because the doctor maybe hasn't let up as much as he lets on he has; he +might scare them out of here yet. + +So, thinks I, I'll go and search them rooms. Upstairs the hall was +dark, but I found the duke's room, and started to paw around it with +my hands; but I recollected it wouldn't be much like the king to let +anybody else take care of that money but his own self; so then I went to +his room and begun to paw around there. But I see I couldn't do nothing +without a candle, and I dasn't light one, of course. So I judged I'd +got to do the other thing--lay for them and eavesdrop. About that time +I hears their footsteps coming, and was going to skip under the bed; I +reached for it, but it wasn't where I thought it would be; but I touched +the curtain that hid Mary Jane's frocks, so I jumped in behind that and +snuggled in amongst the gowns, and stood there perfectly still. + +They come in and shut the door; and the first thing the duke done was to +get down and look under the bed. Then I was glad I hadn't found the bed +when I wanted it. And yet, you know, it's kind of natural to hide under +the bed when you are up to anything private. They sets down then, and +the king says: + +"Well, what is it? And cut it middlin' short, because it's better for +us to be down there a-whoopin' up the mournin' than up here givin' 'em a +chance to talk us over." + +"Well, this is it, Capet. I ain't easy; I ain't comfortable. That +doctor lays on my mind. I wanted to know your plans. I've got a +notion, and I think it's a sound one." + +"What is it, duke?" + +"That we better glide out of this before three in the morning, and clip +it down the river with what we've got. Specially, seeing we got it so +easy--_given_ back to us, flung at our heads, as you may say, when of +course we allowed to have to steal it back. I'm for knocking off and +lighting out." + +That made me feel pretty bad. About an hour or two ago it would a been +a little different, but now it made me feel bad and disappointed, The +king rips out and says: + +"What! And not sell out the rest o' the property? March off like +a passel of fools and leave eight or nine thous'n' dollars' worth o' +property layin' around jest sufferin' to be scooped in?--and all good, +salable stuff, too." + +The duke he grumbled; said the bag of gold was enough, and he didn't +want to go no deeper--didn't want to rob a lot of orphans of _everything_ +they had. + +"Why, how you talk!" says the king. "We sha'n't rob 'em of nothing at +all but jest this money. The people that _buys_ the property is the +suff'rers; because as soon 's it's found out 'at we didn't own it--which +won't be long after we've slid--the sale won't be valid, and it 'll all +go back to the estate. These yer orphans 'll git their house back agin, +and that's enough for _them_; they're young and spry, and k'n easy +earn a livin'. _they_ ain't a-goin to suffer. Why, jest think--there's +thous'n's and thous'n's that ain't nigh so well off. Bless you, _they_ +ain't got noth'n' to complain of." + +Well, the king he talked him blind; so at last he give in, and said all +right, but said he believed it was blamed foolishness to stay, and that +doctor hanging over them. But the king says: + +"Cuss the doctor! What do we k'yer for _him_? Hain't we got all the +fools in town on our side? And ain't that a big enough majority in any +town?" + +So they got ready to go down stairs again. The duke says: + +"I don't think we put that money in a good place." + +That cheered me up. I'd begun to think I warn't going to get a hint of +no kind to help me. The king says: + +"Why?" + +"Because Mary Jane 'll be in mourning from this out; and first you know +the nigger that does up the rooms will get an order to box these duds +up and put 'em away; and do you reckon a nigger can run across money and +not borrow some of it?" + +"Your head's level agin, duke," says the king; and he comes a-fumbling +under the curtain two or three foot from where I was. I stuck tight to +the wall and kept mighty still, though quivery; and I wondered what them +fellows would say to me if they catched me; and I tried to think what +I'd better do if they did catch me. But the king he got the bag before +I could think more than about a half a thought, and he never suspicioned +I was around. They took and shoved the bag through a rip in the straw +tick that was under the feather-bed, and crammed it in a foot or two +amongst the straw and said it was all right now, because a nigger only +makes up the feather-bed, and don't turn over the straw tick only about +twice a year, and so it warn't in no danger of getting stole now. + +But I knowed better. I had it out of there before they was half-way +down stairs. I groped along up to my cubby, and hid it there till I +could get a chance to do better. I judged I better hide it outside +of the house somewheres, because if they missed it they would give the +house a good ransacking: I knowed that very well. Then I turned in, +with my clothes all on; but I couldn't a gone to sleep if I'd a wanted +to, I was in such a sweat to get through with the business. By and by I +heard the king and the duke come up; so I rolled off my pallet and laid +with my chin at the top of my ladder, and waited to see if anything was +going to happen. But nothing did. + +So I held on till all the late sounds had quit and the early ones hadn't +begun yet; and then I slipped down the ladder. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +I crept to their doors and listened; they was snoring. So I tiptoed +along, and got down stairs all right. There warn't a sound anywheres. + I peeped through a crack of the dining-room door, and see the men that +was watching the corpse all sound asleep on their chairs. The door +was open into the parlor, where the corpse was laying, and there was a +candle in both rooms. I passed along, and the parlor door was open; but +I see there warn't nobody in there but the remainders of Peter; so I +shoved on by; but the front door was locked, and the key wasn't there. + Just then I heard somebody coming down the stairs, back behind me. I +run in the parlor and took a swift look around, and the only place I +see to hide the bag was in the coffin. The lid was shoved along about +a foot, showing the dead man's face down in there, with a wet cloth over +it, and his shroud on. I tucked the money-bag in under the lid, just +down beyond where his hands was crossed, which made me creep, they was +so cold, and then I run back across the room and in behind the door. + +The person coming was Mary Jane. She went to the coffin, very soft, and +kneeled down and looked in; then she put up her handkerchief, and I see +she begun to cry, though I couldn't hear her, and her back was to me. I +slid out, and as I passed the dining-room I thought I'd make sure them +watchers hadn't seen me; so I looked through the crack, and everything +was all right. They hadn't stirred. + +I slipped up to bed, feeling ruther blue, on accounts of the thing +playing out that way after I had took so much trouble and run so much +resk about it. Says I, if it could stay where it is, all right; because +when we get down the river a hundred mile or two I could write back to +Mary Jane, and she could dig him up again and get it; but that ain't the +thing that's going to happen; the thing that's going to happen is, the +money 'll be found when they come to screw on the lid. Then the king +'ll get it again, and it 'll be a long day before he gives anybody +another chance to smouch it from him. Of course I _wanted_ to slide +down and get it out of there, but I dasn't try it. Every minute it was +getting earlier now, and pretty soon some of them watchers would begin +to stir, and I might get catched--catched with six thousand dollars in my +hands that nobody hadn't hired me to take care of. I don't wish to be +mixed up in no such business as that, I says to myself. + +When I got down stairs in the morning the parlor was shut up, and the +watchers was gone. There warn't nobody around but the family and the +widow Bartley and our tribe. I watched their faces to see if anything +had been happening, but I couldn't tell. + +Towards the middle of the day the undertaker come with his man, and they +set the coffin in the middle of the room on a couple of chairs, and then +set all our chairs in rows, and borrowed more from the neighbors till +the hall and the parlor and the dining-room was full. I see the coffin +lid was the way it was before, but I dasn't go to look in under it, with +folks around. + +Then the people begun to flock in, and the beats and the girls took +seats in the front row at the head of the coffin, and for a half an hour +the people filed around slow, in single rank, and looked down at the +dead man's face a minute, and some dropped in a tear, and it was +all very still and solemn, only the girls and the beats holding +handkerchiefs to their eyes and keeping their heads bent, and sobbing a +little. There warn't no other sound but the scraping of the feet on +the floor and blowing noses--because people always blows them more at a +funeral than they do at other places except church. + +When the place was packed full the undertaker he slid around in his +black gloves with his softy soothering ways, putting on the last +touches, and getting people and things all ship-shape and comfortable, +and making no more sound than a cat. He never spoke; he moved people +around, he squeezed in late ones, he opened up passageways, and done +it with nods, and signs with his hands. Then he took his place over +against the wall. He was the softest, glidingest, stealthiest man I ever +see; and there warn't no more smile to him than there is to a ham. + +They had borrowed a melodeum--a sick one; and when everything was ready +a young woman set down and worked it, and it was pretty skreeky and +colicky, and everybody joined in and sung, and Peter was the only one +that had a good thing, according to my notion. Then the Reverend Hobson +opened up, slow and solemn, and begun to talk; and straight off the most +outrageous row busted out in the cellar a body ever heard; it was only +one dog, but he made a most powerful racket, and he kept it up right +along; the parson he had to stand there, over the coffin, and wait--you +couldn't hear yourself think. It was right down awkward, and nobody +didn't seem to know what to do. But pretty soon they see that +long-legged undertaker make a sign to the preacher as much as to say, +"Don't you worry--just depend on me." Then he stooped down and begun +to glide along the wall, just his shoulders showing over the people's +heads. So he glided along, and the powwow and racket getting more and +more outrageous all the time; and at last, when he had gone around two +sides of the room, he disappears down cellar. Then in about two seconds +we heard a whack, and the dog he finished up with a most amazing howl or +two, and then everything was dead still, and the parson begun his solemn +talk where he left off. In a minute or two here comes this undertaker's +back and shoulders gliding along the wall again; and so he glided and +glided around three sides of the room, and then rose up, and shaded his +mouth with his hands, and stretched his neck out towards the preacher, +over the people's heads, and says, in a kind of a coarse whisper, "_He +had a rat_!" Then he drooped down and glided along the wall again to +his place. You could see it was a great satisfaction to the people, +because naturally they wanted to know. A little thing like that don't +cost nothing, and it's just the little things that makes a man to be +looked up to and liked. There warn't no more popular man in town than +what that undertaker was. + +Well, the funeral sermon was very good, but pison long and tiresome; and +then the king he shoved in and got off some of his usual rubbage, and +at last the job was through, and the undertaker begun to sneak up on the +coffin with his screw-driver. I was in a sweat then, and watched him +pretty keen. But he never meddled at all; just slid the lid along as +soft as mush, and screwed it down tight and fast. So there I was! I +didn't know whether the money was in there or not. So, says I, s'pose +somebody has hogged that bag on the sly?--now how do I know whether +to write to Mary Jane or not? S'pose she dug him up and didn't find +nothing, what would she think of me? Blame it, I says, I might get +hunted up and jailed; I'd better lay low and keep dark, and not write at +all; the thing's awful mixed now; trying to better it, I've worsened it +a hundred times, and I wish to goodness I'd just let it alone, dad fetch +the whole business! + +They buried him, and we come back home, and I went to watching faces +again--I couldn't help it, and I couldn't rest easy. But nothing come of +it; the faces didn't tell me nothing. + +The king he visited around in the evening, and sweetened everybody up, +and made himself ever so friendly; and he give out the idea that his +congregation over in England would be in a sweat about him, so he must +hurry and settle up the estate right away and leave for home. He was +very sorry he was so pushed, and so was everybody; they wished he could +stay longer, but they said they could see it couldn't be done. And he +said of course him and William would take the girls home with them; and +that pleased everybody too, because then the girls would be well fixed +and amongst their own relations; and it pleased the girls, too--tickled +them so they clean forgot they ever had a trouble in the world; and told +him to sell out as quick as he wanted to, they would be ready. Them +poor things was that glad and happy it made my heart ache to see them +getting fooled and lied to so, but I didn't see no safe way for me to +chip in and change the general tune. + +Well, blamed if the king didn't bill the house and the niggers and all +the property for auction straight off--sale two days after the funeral; +but anybody could buy private beforehand if they wanted to. + +So the next day after the funeral, along about noon-time, the girls' joy +got the first jolt. A couple of nigger traders come along, and the king +sold them the niggers reasonable, for three-day drafts as they called +it, and away they went, the two sons up the river to Memphis, and their +mother down the river to Orleans. I thought them poor girls and them +niggers would break their hearts for grief; they cried around each +other, and took on so it most made me down sick to see it. The girls +said they hadn't ever dreamed of seeing the family separated or sold +away from the town. I can't ever get it out of my memory, the sight of +them poor miserable girls and niggers hanging around each other's necks +and crying; and I reckon I couldn't a stood it all, but would a had +to bust out and tell on our gang if I hadn't knowed the sale warn't no +account and the niggers would be back home in a week or two. + +The thing made a big stir in the town, too, and a good many come out +flatfooted and said it was scandalous to separate the mother and the +children that way. It injured the frauds some; but the old fool he +bulled right along, spite of all the duke could say or do, and I tell +you the duke was powerful uneasy. + +Next day was auction day. About broad day in the morning the king and +the duke come up in the garret and woke me up, and I see by their look +that there was trouble. The king says: + +"Was you in my room night before last?" + +"No, your majesty"--which was the way I always called him when nobody but +our gang warn't around. + +"Was you in there yisterday er last night?" + +"No, your majesty." + +"Honor bright, now--no lies." + +"Honor bright, your majesty, I'm telling you the truth. I hain't been +a-near your room since Miss Mary Jane took you and the duke and showed +it to you." + +The duke says: + +"Have you seen anybody else go in there?" + +"No, your grace, not as I remember, I believe." + +"Stop and think." + +I studied awhile and see my chance; then I says: + +"Well, I see the niggers go in there several times." + +Both of them gave a little jump, and looked like they hadn't ever +expected it, and then like they _had_. Then the duke says: + +"What, all of them?" + +"No--leastways, not all at once--that is, I don't think I ever see them +all come _out_ at once but just one time." + +"Hello! When was that?" + +"It was the day we had the funeral. In the morning. It warn't early, +because I overslept. I was just starting down the ladder, and I see +them." + +"Well, go on, _go_ on! What did they do? How'd they act?" + +"They didn't do nothing. And they didn't act anyway much, as fur as I +see. They tiptoed away; so I seen, easy enough, that they'd shoved in +there to do up your majesty's room, or something, s'posing you was up; +and found you _warn't_ up, and so they was hoping to slide out of the +way of trouble without waking you up, if they hadn't already waked you +up." + +"Great guns, _this_ is a go!" says the king; and both of them looked +pretty sick and tolerable silly. They stood there a-thinking and +scratching their heads a minute, and the duke he bust into a kind of a +little raspy chuckle, and says: + +"It does beat all how neat the niggers played their hand. They let on +to be _sorry_ they was going out of this region! And I believed they +_was_ sorry, and so did you, and so did everybody. Don't ever tell _me_ +any more that a nigger ain't got any histrionic talent. Why, the way +they played that thing it would fool _anybody_. In my opinion, there's +a fortune in 'em. If I had capital and a theater, I wouldn't want a +better lay-out than that--and here we've gone and sold 'em for a song. + Yes, and ain't privileged to sing the song yet. Say, where _is_ that +song--that draft?" + +"In the bank for to be collected. Where _would_ it be?" + +"Well, _that's_ all right then, thank goodness." + +Says I, kind of timid-like: + +"Is something gone wrong?" + +The king whirls on me and rips out: + +"None o' your business! You keep your head shet, and mind y'r own +affairs--if you got any. Long as you're in this town don't you forgit +_that_--you hear?" Then he says to the duke, "We got to jest swaller it +and say noth'n': mum's the word for _us_." + +As they was starting down the ladder the duke he chuckles again, and +says: + +"Quick sales _and_ small profits! It's a good business--yes." + +The king snarls around on him and says: + +"I was trying to do for the best in sellin' 'em out so quick. If the +profits has turned out to be none, lackin' considable, and none to +carry, is it my fault any more'n it's yourn?" + +"Well, _they'd_ be in this house yet and we _wouldn't_ if I could a got +my advice listened to." + +The king sassed back as much as was safe for him, and then swapped +around and lit into _me_ again. He give me down the banks for not +coming and _telling_ him I see the niggers come out of his room acting +that way--said any fool would a _knowed_ something was up. And then +waltzed in and cussed _himself_ awhile, and said it all come of him not +laying late and taking his natural rest that morning, and he'd be +blamed if he'd ever do it again. So they went off a-jawing; and I felt +dreadful glad I'd worked it all off on to the niggers, and yet hadn't +done the niggers no harm by it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +BY and by it was getting-up time. So I come down the ladder and started +for down-stairs; but as I come to the girls' room the door was open, and +I see Mary Jane setting by her old hair trunk, which was open and she'd +been packing things in it--getting ready to go to England. But she +had stopped now with a folded gown in her lap, and had her face in her +hands, crying. I felt awful bad to see it; of course anybody would. I +went in there and says: + +"Miss Mary Jane, you can't a-bear to see people in trouble, and I +can't--most always. Tell me about it." + +So she done it. And it was the niggers--I just expected it. She said +the beautiful trip to England was most about spoiled for her; she didn't +know _how_ she was ever going to be happy there, knowing the mother and +the children warn't ever going to see each other no more--and then busted +out bitterer than ever, and flung up her hands, and says: + +"Oh, dear, dear, to think they ain't _ever_ going to see each other any +more!" + +"But they _will_--and inside of two weeks--and I _know_ it!" says I. + +Laws, it was out before I could think! And before I could budge she +throws her arms around my neck and told me to say it _again_, say it +_again_, say it _again_! + +I see I had spoke too sudden and said too much, and was in a close +place. I asked her to let me think a minute; and she set there, very +impatient and excited and handsome, but looking kind of happy and +eased-up, like a person that's had a tooth pulled out. So I went to +studying it out. I says to myself, I reckon a body that ups and tells +the truth when he is in a tight place is taking considerable many resks, +though I ain't had no experience, and can't say for certain; but it +looks so to me, anyway; and yet here's a case where I'm blest if it +don't look to me like the truth is better and actuly _safer_ than a lie. + I must lay it by in my mind, and think it over some time or other, it's +so kind of strange and unregular. I never see nothing like it. Well, I +says to myself at last, I'm a-going to chance it; I'll up and tell the +truth this time, though it does seem most like setting down on a kag of +powder and touching it off just to see where you'll go to. Then I says: + +"Miss Mary Jane, is there any place out of town a little ways where you +could go and stay three or four days?" + +"Yes; Mr. Lothrop's. Why?" + +"Never mind why yet. If I'll tell you how I know the niggers will see +each other again inside of two weeks--here in this house--and _prove_ how +I know it--will you go to Mr. Lothrop's and stay four days?" + +"Four days!" she says; "I'll stay a year!" + +"All right," I says, "I don't want nothing more out of _you_ than just +your word--I druther have it than another man's kiss-the-Bible." She +smiled and reddened up very sweet, and I says, "If you don't mind it, +I'll shut the door--and bolt it." + +Then I come back and set down again, and says: + +"Don't you holler. Just set still and take it like a man. I got to +tell the truth, and you want to brace up, Miss Mary, because it's a +bad kind, and going to be hard to take, but there ain't no help for +it. These uncles of yourn ain't no uncles at all; they're a couple of +frauds--regular dead-beats. There, now we're over the worst of it, you +can stand the rest middling easy." + +It jolted her up like everything, of course; but I was over the shoal +water now, so I went right along, her eyes a-blazing higher and higher +all the time, and told her every blame thing, from where we first struck +that young fool going up to the steamboat, clear through to where she +flung herself on to the king's breast at the front door and he kissed +her sixteen or seventeen times--and then up she jumps, with her face +afire like sunset, and says: + +"The brute! Come, don't waste a minute--not a _second_--we'll have them +tarred and feathered, and flung in the river!" + +Says I: + +"Cert'nly. But do you mean _before_ you go to Mr. Lothrop's, or--" + +"Oh," she says, "what am I _thinking_ about!" she says, and set right +down again. "Don't mind what I said--please don't--you _won't,_ now, +_will_ you?" Laying her silky hand on mine in that kind of a way that +I said I would die first. "I never thought, I was so stirred up," she +says; "now go on, and I won't do so any more. You tell me what to do, +and whatever you say I'll do it." + +"Well," I says, "it's a rough gang, them two frauds, and I'm fixed so +I got to travel with them a while longer, whether I want to or not--I +druther not tell you why; and if you was to blow on them this town would +get me out of their claws, and I'd be all right; but there'd be another +person that you don't know about who'd be in big trouble. Well, we +got to save _him_, hain't we? Of course. Well, then, we won't blow on +them." + +Saying them words put a good idea in my head. I see how maybe I could +get me and Jim rid of the frauds; get them jailed here, and then leave. +But I didn't want to run the raft in the daytime without anybody aboard +to answer questions but me; so I didn't want the plan to begin working +till pretty late to-night. I says: + +"Miss Mary Jane, I'll tell you what we'll do, and you won't have to stay +at Mr. Lothrop's so long, nuther. How fur is it?" + +"A little short of four miles--right out in the country, back here." + +"Well, that 'll answer. Now you go along out there, and lay low +till nine or half-past to-night, and then get them to fetch you home +again--tell them you've thought of something. If you get here before +eleven put a candle in this window, and if I don't turn up wait _till_ +eleven, and _then_ if I don't turn up it means I'm gone, and out of the +way, and safe. Then you come out and spread the news around, and get +these beats jailed." + +"Good," she says, "I'll do it." + +"And if it just happens so that I don't get away, but get took up along +with them, you must up and say I told you the whole thing beforehand, +and you must stand by me all you can." + +"Stand by you! indeed I will. They sha'n't touch a hair of your head!" +she says, and I see her nostrils spread and her eyes snap when she said +it, too. + +"If I get away I sha'n't be here," I says, "to prove these rapscallions +ain't your uncles, and I couldn't do it if I _was_ here. I could swear +they was beats and bummers, that's all, though that's worth something. +Well, there's others can do that better than what I can, and they're +people that ain't going to be doubted as quick as I'd be. I'll tell you +how to find them. Gimme a pencil and a piece of paper. There--'Royal +Nonesuch, Bricksville.' Put it away, and don't lose it. When the +court wants to find out something about these two, let them send up to +Bricksville and say they've got the men that played the Royal Nonesuch, +and ask for some witnesses--why, you'll have that entire town down here +before you can hardly wink, Miss Mary. And they'll come a-biling, too." + +I judged we had got everything fixed about right now. So I says: + +"Just let the auction go right along, and don't worry. Nobody don't +have to pay for the things they buy till a whole day after the auction +on accounts of the short notice, and they ain't going out of this till +they get that money; and the way we've fixed it the sale ain't going to +count, and they ain't going to get no money. It's just like the way +it was with the niggers--it warn't no sale, and the niggers will be +back before long. Why, they can't collect the money for the _niggers_ +yet--they're in the worst kind of a fix, Miss Mary." + +"Well," she says, "I'll run down to breakfast now, and then I'll start +straight for Mr. Lothrop's." + +"'Deed, _that_ ain't the ticket, Miss Mary Jane," I says, "by no manner +of means; go _before_ breakfast." + +"Why?" + +"What did you reckon I wanted you to go at all for, Miss Mary?" + +"Well, I never thought--and come to think, I don't know. What was it?" + +"Why, it's because you ain't one of these leather-face people. I don't +want no better book than what your face is. A body can set down and +read it off like coarse print. Do you reckon you can go and face your +uncles when they come to kiss you good-morning, and never--" + +"There, there, don't! Yes, I'll go before breakfast--I'll be glad to. +And leave my sisters with them?" + +"Yes; never mind about them. They've got to stand it yet a while. They +might suspicion something if all of you was to go. I don't want you to +see them, nor your sisters, nor nobody in this town; if a neighbor was +to ask how is your uncles this morning your face would tell something. + No, you go right along, Miss Mary Jane, and I'll fix it with all of +them. I'll tell Miss Susan to give your love to your uncles and say +you've went away for a few hours for to get a little rest and change, or +to see a friend, and you'll be back to-night or early in the morning." + +"Gone to see a friend is all right, but I won't have my love given to +them." + +"Well, then, it sha'n't be." It was well enough to tell _her_ so--no +harm in it. It was only a little thing to do, and no trouble; and it's +the little things that smooths people's roads the most, down here below; +it would make Mary Jane comfortable, and it wouldn't cost nothing. Then +I says: "There's one more thing--that bag of money." + +"Well, they've got that; and it makes me feel pretty silly to think +_how_ they got it." + +"No, you're out, there. They hain't got it." + +"Why, who's got it?" + +"I wish I knowed, but I don't. I _had_ it, because I stole it from +them; and I stole it to give to you; and I know where I hid it, but I'm +afraid it ain't there no more. I'm awful sorry, Miss Mary Jane, I'm +just as sorry as I can be; but I done the best I could; I did honest. I +come nigh getting caught, and I had to shove it into the first place I +come to, and run--and it warn't a good place." + +"Oh, stop blaming yourself--it's too bad to do it, and I won't allow +it--you couldn't help it; it wasn't your fault. Where did you hide it?" + +I didn't want to set her to thinking about her troubles again; and I +couldn't seem to get my mouth to tell her what would make her see that +corpse laying in the coffin with that bag of money on his stomach. So +for a minute I didn't say nothing; then I says: + +"I'd ruther not _tell_ you where I put it, Miss Mary Jane, if you don't +mind letting me off; but I'll write it for you on a piece of paper, and +you can read it along the road to Mr. Lothrop's, if you want to. Do you +reckon that 'll do?" + +"Oh, yes." + +So I wrote: "I put it in the coffin. It was in there when you was +crying there, away in the night. I was behind the door, and I was +mighty sorry for you, Miss Mary Jane." + +It made my eyes water a little to remember her crying there all by +herself in the night, and them devils laying there right under her own +roof, shaming her and robbing her; and when I folded it up and give it +to her I see the water come into her eyes, too; and she shook me by the +hand, hard, and says: + +"_Good_-bye. I'm going to do everything just as you've told me; and if +I don't ever see you again, I sha'n't ever forget you and I'll think of +you a many and a many a time, and I'll _pray_ for you, too!"--and she was +gone. + +Pray for me! I reckoned if she knowed me she'd take a job that was more +nearer her size. But I bet she done it, just the same--she was just that +kind. She had the grit to pray for Judus if she took the notion--there +warn't no back-down to her, I judge. You may say what you want to, but +in my opinion she had more sand in her than any girl I ever see; in +my opinion she was just full of sand. It sounds like flattery, but it +ain't no flattery. And when it comes to beauty--and goodness, too--she +lays over them all. I hain't ever seen her since that time that I see +her go out of that door; no, I hain't ever seen her since, but I reckon +I've thought of her a many and a many a million times, and of her saying +she would pray for me; and if ever I'd a thought it would do any good +for me to pray for _her_, blamed if I wouldn't a done it or bust. + +Well, Mary Jane she lit out the back way, I reckon; because nobody see +her go. When I struck Susan and the hare-lip, I says: + +"What's the name of them people over on t'other side of the river that +you all goes to see sometimes?" + +They says: + +"There's several; but it's the Proctors, mainly." + +"That's the name," I says; "I most forgot it. Well, Miss Mary Jane she +told me to tell you she's gone over there in a dreadful hurry--one of +them's sick." + +"Which one?" + +"I don't know; leastways, I kinder forget; but I thinks it's--" + +"Sakes alive, I hope it ain't _Hanner_?" + +"I'm sorry to say it," I says, "but Hanner's the very one." + +"My goodness, and she so well only last week! Is she took bad?" + +"It ain't no name for it. They set up with her all night, Miss Mary +Jane said, and they don't think she'll last many hours." + +"Only think of that, now! What's the matter with her?" + +I couldn't think of anything reasonable, right off that way, so I says: + +"Mumps." + +"Mumps your granny! They don't set up with people that's got the +mumps." + +"They don't, don't they? You better bet they do with _these_ mumps. + These mumps is different. It's a new kind, Miss Mary Jane said." + +"How's it a new kind?" + +"Because it's mixed up with other things." + +"What other things?" + +"Well, measles, and whooping-cough, and erysiplas, and consumption, and +yaller janders, and brain-fever, and I don't know what all." + +"My land! And they call it the _mumps_?" + +"That's what Miss Mary Jane said." + +"Well, what in the nation do they call it the _mumps_ for?" + +"Why, because it _is_ the mumps. That's what it starts with." + +"Well, ther' ain't no sense in it. A body might stump his toe, and take +pison, and fall down the well, and break his neck, and bust his brains +out, and somebody come along and ask what killed him, and some numskull +up and say, 'Why, he stumped his _toe_.' Would ther' be any sense +in that? _No_. And ther' ain't no sense in _this_, nuther. Is it +ketching?" + +"Is it _ketching_? Why, how you talk. Is a _harrow_ catching--in the +dark? If you don't hitch on to one tooth, you're bound to on another, +ain't you? And you can't get away with that tooth without fetching the +whole harrow along, can you? Well, these kind of mumps is a kind of a +harrow, as you may say--and it ain't no slouch of a harrow, nuther, you +come to get it hitched on good." + +"Well, it's awful, I think," says the hare-lip. "I'll go to Uncle +Harvey and--" + +"Oh, yes," I says, "I _would_. Of _course_ I would. I wouldn't lose no +time." + +"Well, why wouldn't you?" + +"Just look at it a minute, and maybe you can see. Hain't your uncles +obleegd to get along home to England as fast as they can? And do you +reckon they'd be mean enough to go off and leave you to go all that +journey by yourselves? _you_ know they'll wait for you. So fur, so +good. Your uncle Harvey's a preacher, ain't he? Very well, then; is a +_preacher_ going to deceive a steamboat clerk? is he going to deceive +a _ship clerk?_--so as to get them to let Miss Mary Jane go aboard? Now +_you_ know he ain't. What _will_ he do, then? Why, he'll say, 'It's a +great pity, but my church matters has got to get along the best way they +can; for my niece has been exposed to the dreadful pluribus-unum mumps, +and so it's my bounden duty to set down here and wait the three months +it takes to show on her if she's got it.' But never mind, if you think +it's best to tell your uncle Harvey--" + +"Shucks, and stay fooling around here when we could all be having good +times in England whilst we was waiting to find out whether Mary Jane's +got it or not? Why, you talk like a muggins." + +"Well, anyway, maybe you'd better tell some of the neighbors." + +"Listen at that, now. You do beat all for natural stupidness. Can't +you _see_ that _they'd_ go and tell? Ther' ain't no way but just to not +tell anybody at _all_." + +"Well, maybe you're right--yes, I judge you _are_ right." + +"But I reckon we ought to tell Uncle Harvey she's gone out a while, +anyway, so he won't be uneasy about her?" + +"Yes, Miss Mary Jane she wanted you to do that. She says, 'Tell them to +give Uncle Harvey and William my love and a kiss, and say I've run over +the river to see Mr.'--Mr.--what _is_ the name of that rich family your +uncle Peter used to think so much of?--I mean the one that--" + +"Why, you must mean the Apthorps, ain't it?" + +"Of course; bother them kind of names, a body can't ever seem to +remember them, half the time, somehow. Yes, she said, say she has run +over for to ask the Apthorps to be sure and come to the auction and buy +this house, because she allowed her uncle Peter would ruther they had +it than anybody else; and she's going to stick to them till they say +they'll come, and then, if she ain't too tired, she's coming home; and +if she is, she'll be home in the morning anyway. She said, don't say +nothing about the Proctors, but only about the Apthorps--which 'll be +perfectly true, because she is going there to speak about their buying +the house; I know it, because she told me so herself." + +"All right," they said, and cleared out to lay for their uncles, and +give them the love and the kisses, and tell them the message. + +Everything was all right now. The girls wouldn't say nothing because +they wanted to go to England; and the king and the duke would ruther +Mary Jane was off working for the auction than around in reach of +Doctor Robinson. I felt very good; I judged I had done it pretty neat--I +reckoned Tom Sawyer couldn't a done it no neater himself. Of course he +would a throwed more style into it, but I can't do that very handy, not +being brung up to it. + +Well, they held the auction in the public square, along towards the end +of the afternoon, and it strung along, and strung along, and the old man +he was on hand and looking his level pisonest, up there longside of the +auctioneer, and chipping in a little Scripture now and then, or a little +goody-goody saying of some kind, and the duke he was around goo-gooing +for sympathy all he knowed how, and just spreading himself generly. + +But by and by the thing dragged through, and everything was +sold--everything but a little old trifling lot in the graveyard. So +they'd got to work that off--I never see such a girafft as the king was +for wanting to swallow _everything_. Well, whilst they was at it a +steamboat landed, and in about two minutes up comes a crowd a-whooping +and yelling and laughing and carrying on, and singing out: + +"_Here's_ your opposition line! here's your two sets o' heirs to old +Peter Wilks--and you pays your money and you takes your choice!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +THEY was fetching a very nice-looking old gentleman along, and a +nice-looking younger one, with his right arm in a sling. And, my souls, +how the people yelled and laughed, and kept it up. But I didn't see no +joke about it, and I judged it would strain the duke and the king some +to see any. I reckoned they'd turn pale. But no, nary a pale did +_they_ turn. The duke he never let on he suspicioned what was up, but +just went a goo-gooing around, happy and satisfied, like a jug that's +googling out buttermilk; and as for the king, he just gazed and gazed +down sorrowful on them new-comers like it give him the stomach-ache in +his very heart to think there could be such frauds and rascals in the +world. Oh, he done it admirable. Lots of the principal people +gethered around the king, to let him see they was on his side. That old +gentleman that had just come looked all puzzled to death. Pretty +soon he begun to speak, and I see straight off he pronounced _like_ an +Englishman--not the king's way, though the king's _was_ pretty good for +an imitation. I can't give the old gent's words, nor I can't imitate +him; but he turned around to the crowd, and says, about like this: + +"This is a surprise to me which I wasn't looking for; and I'll +acknowledge, candid and frank, I ain't very well fixed to meet it and +answer it; for my brother and me has had misfortunes; he's broke his +arm, and our baggage got put off at a town above here last night in the +night by a mistake. I am Peter Wilks' brother Harvey, and this is his +brother William, which can't hear nor speak--and can't even make signs to +amount to much, now't he's only got one hand to work them with. We are +who we say we are; and in a day or two, when I get the baggage, I can +prove it. But up till then I won't say nothing more, but go to the hotel +and wait." + +So him and the new dummy started off; and the king he laughs, and +blethers out: + +"Broke his arm--_very_ likely, _ain't_ it?--and very convenient, too, +for a fraud that's got to make signs, and ain't learnt how. Lost +their baggage! That's _mighty_ good!--and mighty ingenious--under the +_circumstances_!" + +So he laughed again; and so did everybody else, except three or four, +or maybe half a dozen. One of these was that doctor; another one was +a sharp-looking gentleman, with a carpet-bag of the old-fashioned kind +made out of carpet-stuff, that had just come off of the steamboat and +was talking to him in a low voice, and glancing towards the king now and +then and nodding their heads--it was Levi Bell, the lawyer that was gone +up to Louisville; and another one was a big rough husky that come along +and listened to all the old gentleman said, and was listening to the +king now. And when the king got done this husky up and says: + +"Say, looky here; if you are Harvey Wilks, when'd you come to this +town?" + +"The day before the funeral, friend," says the king. + +"But what time o' day?" + +"In the evenin'--'bout an hour er two before sundown." + +"_How'd_ you come?" + +"I come down on the Susan Powell from Cincinnati." + +"Well, then, how'd you come to be up at the Pint in the _mornin_'--in a +canoe?" + +"I warn't up at the Pint in the mornin'." + +"It's a lie." + +Several of them jumped for him and begged him not to talk that way to an +old man and a preacher. + +"Preacher be hanged, he's a fraud and a liar. He was up at the Pint +that mornin'. I live up there, don't I? Well, I was up there, and +he was up there. I see him there. He come in a canoe, along with Tim +Collins and a boy." + +The doctor he up and says: + +"Would you know the boy again if you was to see him, Hines?" + +"I reckon I would, but I don't know. Why, yonder he is, now. I know +him perfectly easy." + +It was me he pointed at. The doctor says: + +"Neighbors, I don't know whether the new couple is frauds or not; but if +_these_ two ain't frauds, I am an idiot, that's all. I think it's our +duty to see that they don't get away from here till we've looked into +this thing. Come along, Hines; come along, the rest of you. We'll take +these fellows to the tavern and affront them with t'other couple, and I +reckon we'll find out _something_ before we get through." + +It was nuts for the crowd, though maybe not for the king's friends; so +we all started. It was about sundown. The doctor he led me along by +the hand, and was plenty kind enough, but he never let go my hand. + +We all got in a big room in the hotel, and lit up some candles, and +fetched in the new couple. First, the doctor says: + +"I don't wish to be too hard on these two men, but I think they're +frauds, and they may have complices that we don't know nothing about. + If they have, won't the complices get away with that bag of gold Peter +Wilks left? It ain't unlikely. If these men ain't frauds, they won't +object to sending for that money and letting us keep it till they prove +they're all right--ain't that so?" + +Everybody agreed to that. So I judged they had our gang in a pretty +tight place right at the outstart. But the king he only looked +sorrowful, and says: + +"Gentlemen, I wish the money was there, for I ain't got no disposition +to throw anything in the way of a fair, open, out-and-out investigation +o' this misable business; but, alas, the money ain't there; you k'n send +and see, if you want to." + +"Where is it, then?" + +"Well, when my niece give it to me to keep for her I took and hid it +inside o' the straw tick o' my bed, not wishin' to bank it for the few +days we'd be here, and considerin' the bed a safe place, we not bein' +used to niggers, and suppos'n' 'em honest, like servants in England. + The niggers stole it the very next mornin' after I had went down +stairs; and when I sold 'em I hadn't missed the money yit, so they got +clean away with it. My servant here k'n tell you 'bout it, gentlemen." + +The doctor and several said "Shucks!" and I see nobody didn't altogether +believe him. One man asked me if I see the niggers steal it. I said +no, but I see them sneaking out of the room and hustling away, and I +never thought nothing, only I reckoned they was afraid they had waked up +my master and was trying to get away before he made trouble with them. + That was all they asked me. Then the doctor whirls on me and says: + +"Are _you_ English, too?" + +I says yes; and him and some others laughed, and said, "Stuff!" + +Well, then they sailed in on the general investigation, and there we had +it, up and down, hour in, hour out, and nobody never said a word about +supper, nor ever seemed to think about it--and so they kept it up, and +kept it up; and it _was_ the worst mixed-up thing you ever see. They +made the king tell his yarn, and they made the old gentleman tell his'n; +and anybody but a lot of prejudiced chuckleheads would a _seen_ that the +old gentleman was spinning truth and t'other one lies. And by and by +they had me up to tell what I knowed. The king he give me a left-handed +look out of the corner of his eye, and so I knowed enough to talk on the +right side. I begun to tell about Sheffield, and how we lived there, +and all about the English Wilkses, and so on; but I didn't get pretty +fur till the doctor begun to laugh; and Levi Bell, the lawyer, says: + +"Set down, my boy; I wouldn't strain myself if I was you. I reckon +you ain't used to lying, it don't seem to come handy; what you want is +practice. You do it pretty awkward." + +I didn't care nothing for the compliment, but I was glad to be let off, +anyway. + +The doctor he started to say something, and turns and says: + +"If you'd been in town at first, Levi Bell--" The king broke in and +reached out his hand, and says: + +"Why, is this my poor dead brother's old friend that he's wrote so often +about?" + +The lawyer and him shook hands, and the lawyer smiled and looked +pleased, and they talked right along awhile, and then got to one side +and talked low; and at last the lawyer speaks up and says: + +"That 'll fix it. I'll take the order and send it, along with your +brother's, and then they'll know it's all right." + +So they got some paper and a pen, and the king he set down and twisted +his head to one side, and chawed his tongue, and scrawled off something; +and then they give the pen to the duke--and then for the first time the +duke looked sick. But he took the pen and wrote. So then the lawyer +turns to the new old gentleman and says: + +"You and your brother please write a line or two and sign your names." + +The old gentleman wrote, but nobody couldn't read it. The lawyer looked +powerful astonished, and says: + +"Well, it beats _me_"--and snaked a lot of old letters out of his pocket, +and examined them, and then examined the old man's writing, and then +_them_ again; and then says: "These old letters is from Harvey Wilks; +and here's _these_ two handwritings, and anybody can see they didn't +write them" (the king and the duke looked sold and foolish, I tell +you, to see how the lawyer had took them in), "and here's _this_ old +gentleman's hand writing, and anybody can tell, easy enough, _he_ didn't +write them--fact is, the scratches he makes ain't properly _writing_ at +all. Now, here's some letters from--" + +The new old gentleman says: + +"If you please, let me explain. Nobody can read my hand but my brother +there--so he copies for me. It's _his_ hand you've got there, not mine." + +"_Well_!" says the lawyer, "this _is_ a state of things. I've got some +of William's letters, too; so if you'll get him to write a line or so we +can com--" + +"He _can't_ write with his left hand," says the old gentleman. "If he +could use his right hand, you would see that he wrote his own letters +and mine too. Look at both, please--they're by the same hand." + +The lawyer done it, and says: + +"I believe it's so--and if it ain't so, there's a heap stronger +resemblance than I'd noticed before, anyway. Well, well, well! I +thought we was right on the track of a solution, but it's gone to grass, +partly. But anyway, one thing is proved--_these_ two ain't either of 'em +Wilkses"--and he wagged his head towards the king and the duke. + +Well, what do you think? That muleheaded old fool wouldn't give in +_then_! Indeed he wouldn't. Said it warn't no fair test. Said his +brother William was the cussedest joker in the world, and hadn't tried +to write--_he_ see William was going to play one of his jokes the minute +he put the pen to paper. And so he warmed up and went warbling and +warbling right along till he was actuly beginning to believe what he was +saying _himself_; but pretty soon the new gentleman broke in, and says: + +"I've thought of something. Is there anybody here that helped to lay +out my br--helped to lay out the late Peter Wilks for burying?" + +"Yes," says somebody, "me and Ab Turner done it. We're both here." + +Then the old man turns towards the king, and says: + +"Perhaps this gentleman can tell me what was tattooed on his breast?" + +Blamed if the king didn't have to brace up mighty quick, or he'd a +squshed down like a bluff bank that the river has cut under, it took +him so sudden; and, mind you, it was a thing that was calculated to make +most _anybody_ sqush to get fetched such a solid one as that without any +notice, because how was _he_ going to know what was tattooed on the man? + He whitened a little; he couldn't help it; and it was mighty still in +there, and everybody bending a little forwards and gazing at him. Says +I to myself, _now_ he'll throw up the sponge--there ain't no more use. + Well, did he? A body can't hardly believe it, but he didn't. I reckon +he thought he'd keep the thing up till he tired them people out, so +they'd thin out, and him and the duke could break loose and get away. + Anyway, he set there, and pretty soon he begun to smile, and says: + +"Mf! It's a _very_ tough question, _ain't_ it! _yes_, sir, I k'n +tell you what's tattooed on his breast. It's jest a small, thin, blue +arrow--that's what it is; and if you don't look clost, you can't see it. + _now_ what do you say--hey?" + +Well, I never see anything like that old blister for clean out-and-out +cheek. + +The new old gentleman turns brisk towards Ab Turner and his pard, and +his eye lights up like he judged he'd got the king _this_ time, and +says: + +"There--you've heard what he said! Was there any such mark on Peter +Wilks' breast?" + +Both of them spoke up and says: + +"We didn't see no such mark." + +"Good!" says the old gentleman. "Now, what you _did_ see on his breast +was a small dim P, and a B (which is an initial he dropped when he was +young), and a W, with dashes between them, so: P--B--W"--and he marked +them that way on a piece of paper. "Come, ain't that what you saw?" + +Both of them spoke up again, and says: + +"No, we _didn't_. We never seen any marks at all." + +Well, everybody _was_ in a state of mind now, and they sings out: + +"The whole _bilin_' of 'm 's frauds! Le's duck 'em! le's drown 'em! +le's ride 'em on a rail!" and everybody was whooping at once, and there +was a rattling powwow. But the lawyer he jumps on the table and yells, +and says: + +"Gentlemen--gentle_men!_ Hear me just a word--just a _single_ word--if you +_please_! There's one way yet--let's go and dig up the corpse and look." + +That took them. + +"Hooray!" they all shouted, and was starting right off; but the lawyer +and the doctor sung out: + +"Hold on, hold on! Collar all these four men and the boy, and fetch +_them_ along, too!" + +"We'll do it!" they all shouted; "and if we don't find them marks we'll +lynch the whole gang!" + +I _was_ scared, now, I tell you. But there warn't no getting away, you +know. They gripped us all, and marched us right along, straight for the +graveyard, which was a mile and a half down the river, and the whole +town at our heels, for we made noise enough, and it was only nine in the +evening. + +As we went by our house I wished I hadn't sent Mary Jane out of town; +because now if I could tip her the wink she'd light out and save me, and +blow on our dead-beats. + +Well, we swarmed along down the river road, just carrying on like +wildcats; and to make it more scary the sky was darking up, and the +lightning beginning to wink and flitter, and the wind to shiver amongst +the leaves. This was the most awful trouble and most dangersome I ever +was in; and I was kinder stunned; everything was going so different from +what I had allowed for; stead of being fixed so I could take my own time +if I wanted to, and see all the fun, and have Mary Jane at my back to +save me and set me free when the close-fit come, here was nothing in the +world betwixt me and sudden death but just them tattoo-marks. If they +didn't find them-- + +I couldn't bear to think about it; and yet, somehow, I couldn't think +about nothing else. It got darker and darker, and it was a beautiful +time to give the crowd the slip; but that big husky had me by the +wrist--Hines--and a body might as well try to give Goliar the slip. He +dragged me right along, he was so excited, and I had to run to keep up. + +When they got there they swarmed into the graveyard and washed over it +like an overflow. And when they got to the grave they found they had +about a hundred times as many shovels as they wanted, but nobody hadn't +thought to fetch a lantern. But they sailed into digging anyway by the +flicker of the lightning, and sent a man to the nearest house, a half a +mile off, to borrow one. + +So they dug and dug like everything; and it got awful dark, and the rain +started, and the wind swished and swushed along, and the lightning come +brisker and brisker, and the thunder boomed; but them people never took +no notice of it, they was so full of this business; and one minute +you could see everything and every face in that big crowd, and the +shovelfuls of dirt sailing up out of the grave, and the next second the +dark wiped it all out, and you couldn't see nothing at all. + +At last they got out the coffin and begun to unscrew the lid, and then +such another crowding and shouldering and shoving as there was, to +scrouge in and get a sight, you never see; and in the dark, that way, it +was awful. Hines he hurt my wrist dreadful pulling and tugging so, +and I reckon he clean forgot I was in the world, he was so excited and +panting. + +All of a sudden the lightning let go a perfect sluice of white glare, +and somebody sings out: + +"By the living jingo, here's the bag of gold on his breast!" + +Hines let out a whoop, like everybody else, and dropped my wrist and +give a big surge to bust his way in and get a look, and the way I lit +out and shinned for the road in the dark there ain't nobody can tell. + +I had the road all to myself, and I fairly flew--leastways, I had it all +to myself except the solid dark, and the now-and-then glares, and the +buzzing of the rain, and the thrashing of the wind, and the splitting of +the thunder; and sure as you are born I did clip it along! + +When I struck the town I see there warn't nobody out in the storm, so +I never hunted for no back streets, but humped it straight through the +main one; and when I begun to get towards our house I aimed my eye and +set it. No light there; the house all dark--which made me feel sorry and +disappointed, I didn't know why. But at last, just as I was sailing by, +_flash_ comes the light in Mary Jane's window! and my heart swelled up +sudden, like to bust; and the same second the house and all was behind +me in the dark, and wasn't ever going to be before me no more in this +world. She _was_ the best girl I ever see, and had the most sand. + +The minute I was far enough above the town to see I could make the +towhead, I begun to look sharp for a boat to borrow, and the first +time the lightning showed me one that wasn't chained I snatched it and +shoved. It was a canoe, and warn't fastened with nothing but a rope. + The towhead was a rattling big distance off, away out there in the +middle of the river, but I didn't lose no time; and when I struck the +raft at last I was so fagged I would a just laid down to blow and gasp +if I could afforded it. But I didn't. As I sprung aboard I sung out: + +"Out with you, Jim, and set her loose! Glory be to goodness, we're shut +of them!" + +Jim lit out, and was a-coming for me with both arms spread, he was so +full of joy; but when I glimpsed him in the lightning my heart shot up +in my mouth and I went overboard backwards; for I forgot he was old King +Lear and a drownded A-rab all in one, and it most scared the livers and +lights out of me. But Jim fished me out, and was going to hug me and +bless me, and so on, he was so glad I was back and we was shut of the +king and the duke, but I says: + +"Not now; have it for breakfast, have it for breakfast! Cut loose and +let her slide!" + +So in two seconds away we went a-sliding down the river, and it _did_ +seem so good to be free again and all by ourselves on the big river, and +nobody to bother us. I had to skip around a bit, and jump up and crack +my heels a few times--I couldn't help it; but about the third crack +I noticed a sound that I knowed mighty well, and held my breath and +listened and waited; and sure enough, when the next flash busted out +over the water, here they come!--and just a-laying to their oars and +making their skiff hum! It was the king and the duke. + +So I wilted right down on to the planks then, and give up; and it was +all I could do to keep from crying. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +WHEN they got aboard the king went for me, and shook me by the collar, +and says: + +"Tryin' to give us the slip, was ye, you pup! Tired of our company, +hey?" + +I says: + +"No, your majesty, we warn't--_please_ don't, your majesty!" + +"Quick, then, and tell us what _was_ your idea, or I'll shake the +insides out o' you!" + +"Honest, I'll tell you everything just as it happened, your majesty. + The man that had a-holt of me was very good to me, and kept saying he +had a boy about as big as me that died last year, and he was sorry +to see a boy in such a dangerous fix; and when they was all took by +surprise by finding the gold, and made a rush for the coffin, he lets go +of me and whispers, 'Heel it now, or they'll hang ye, sure!' and I lit +out. It didn't seem no good for _me_ to stay--I couldn't do nothing, +and I didn't want to be hung if I could get away. So I never stopped +running till I found the canoe; and when I got here I told Jim to hurry, +or they'd catch me and hang me yet, and said I was afeard you and the +duke wasn't alive now, and I was awful sorry, and so was Jim, and was +awful glad when we see you coming; you may ask Jim if I didn't." + +Jim said it was so; and the king told him to shut up, and said, "Oh, +yes, it's _mighty_ likely!" and shook me up again, and said he reckoned +he'd drownd me. But the duke says: + +"Leggo the boy, you old idiot! Would _you_ a done any different? Did +you inquire around for _him_ when you got loose? I don't remember it." + +So the king let go of me, and begun to cuss that town and everybody in +it. But the duke says: + +"You better a blame' sight give _yourself_ a good cussing, for you're +the one that's entitled to it most. You hain't done a thing from the +start that had any sense in it, except coming out so cool and cheeky +with that imaginary blue-arrow mark. That _was_ bright--it was right +down bully; and it was the thing that saved us. For if it hadn't been +for that they'd a jailed us till them Englishmen's baggage come--and +then--the penitentiary, you bet! But that trick took 'em to the +graveyard, and the gold done us a still bigger kindness; for if the +excited fools hadn't let go all holts and made that rush to get a +look we'd a slept in our cravats to-night--cravats warranted to _wear_, +too--longer than _we'd_ need 'em." + +They was still a minute--thinking; then the king says, kind of +absent-minded like: + +"Mf! And we reckoned the _niggers_ stole it!" + +That made me squirm! + +"Yes," says the duke, kinder slow and deliberate and sarcastic, "_we_ +did." + +After about a half a minute the king drawls out: + +"Leastways, I did." + +The duke says, the same way: + +"On the contrary, I did." + +The king kind of ruffles up, and says: + +"Looky here, Bilgewater, what'r you referrin' to?" + +The duke says, pretty brisk: + +"When it comes to that, maybe you'll let me ask, what was _you_ +referring to?" + +"Shucks!" says the king, very sarcastic; "but I don't know--maybe you was +asleep, and didn't know what you was about." + +The duke bristles up now, and says: + +"Oh, let _up_ on this cussed nonsense; do you take me for a blame' fool? +Don't you reckon I know who hid that money in that coffin?" + +"_Yes_, sir! I know you _do_ know, because you done it yourself!" + +"It's a lie!"--and the duke went for him. The king sings out: + +"Take y'r hands off!--leggo my throat!--I take it all back!" + +The duke says: + +"Well, you just own up, first, that you _did_ hide that money there, +intending to give me the slip one of these days, and come back and dig +it up, and have it all to yourself." + +"Wait jest a minute, duke--answer me this one question, honest and fair; +if you didn't put the money there, say it, and I'll b'lieve you, and +take back everything I said." + +"You old scoundrel, I didn't, and you know I didn't. There, now!" + +"Well, then, I b'lieve you. But answer me only jest this one more--now +_don't_ git mad; didn't you have it in your mind to hook the money and +hide it?" + +The duke never said nothing for a little bit; then he says: + +"Well, I don't care if I _did_, I didn't _do_ it, anyway. But you not +only had it in mind to do it, but you _done_ it." + +"I wisht I never die if I done it, duke, and that's honest. I won't say +I warn't goin' to do it, because I _was_; but you--I mean somebody--got in +ahead o' me." + +"It's a lie! You done it, and you got to _say_ you done it, or--" + +The king began to gurgle, and then he gasps out: + +"'Nough!--I _own up!_" + +I was very glad to hear him say that; it made me feel much more easier +than what I was feeling before. So the duke took his hands off and +says: + +"If you ever deny it again I'll drown you. It's _well_ for you to set +there and blubber like a baby--it's fitten for you, after the way +you've acted. I never see such an old ostrich for wanting to gobble +everything--and I a-trusting you all the time, like you was my own +father. You ought to been ashamed of yourself to stand by and hear it +saddled on to a lot of poor niggers, and you never say a word for 'em. + It makes me feel ridiculous to think I was soft enough to _believe_ +that rubbage. Cuss you, I can see now why you was so anxious to make +up the deffisit--you wanted to get what money I'd got out of the Nonesuch +and one thing or another, and scoop it _all_!" + +The king says, timid, and still a-snuffling: + +"Why, duke, it was you that said make up the deffisit; it warn't me." + +"Dry up! I don't want to hear no more out of you!" says the duke. "And +_now_ you see what you GOT by it. They've got all their own money back, +and all of _ourn_ but a shekel or two _besides_. G'long to bed, and +don't you deffersit _me_ no more deffersits, long 's _you_ live!" + +So the king sneaked into the wigwam and took to his bottle for comfort, +and before long the duke tackled HIS bottle; and so in about a half an +hour they was as thick as thieves again, and the tighter they got the +lovinger they got, and went off a-snoring in each other's arms. They +both got powerful mellow, but I noticed the king didn't get mellow +enough to forget to remember to not deny about hiding the money-bag +again. That made me feel easy and satisfied. Of course when they got +to snoring we had a long gabble, and I told Jim everything. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +WE dasn't stop again at any town for days and days; kept right along +down the river. We was down south in the warm weather now, and a mighty +long ways from home. We begun to come to trees with Spanish moss on +them, hanging down from the limbs like long, gray beards. It was the +first I ever see it growing, and it made the woods look solemn and +dismal. So now the frauds reckoned they was out of danger, and they +begun to work the villages again. + +First they done a lecture on temperance; but they didn't make enough +for them both to get drunk on. Then in another village they started +a dancing-school; but they didn't know no more how to dance than a +kangaroo does; so the first prance they made the general public jumped +in and pranced them out of town. Another time they tried to go at +yellocution; but they didn't yellocute long till the audience got up and +give them a solid good cussing, and made them skip out. They tackled +missionarying, and mesmerizing, and doctoring, and telling fortunes, and +a little of everything; but they couldn't seem to have no luck. So at +last they got just about dead broke, and laid around the raft as she +floated along, thinking and thinking, and never saying nothing, by the +half a day at a time, and dreadful blue and desperate. + +And at last they took a change and begun to lay their heads together in +the wigwam and talk low and confidential two or three hours at a time. +Jim and me got uneasy. We didn't like the look of it. We judged they +was studying up some kind of worse deviltry than ever. We turned it +over and over, and at last we made up our minds they was going to break +into somebody's house or store, or was going into the counterfeit-money +business, or something. So then we was pretty scared, and made up an +agreement that we wouldn't have nothing in the world to do with such +actions, and if we ever got the least show we would give them the cold +shake and clear out and leave them behind. Well, early one morning we +hid the raft in a good, safe place about two mile below a little bit of +a shabby village named Pikesville, and the king he went ashore and told +us all to stay hid whilst he went up to town and smelt around to see +if anybody had got any wind of the Royal Nonesuch there yet. ("House to +rob, you _mean_," says I to myself; "and when you get through robbing it +you'll come back here and wonder what has become of me and Jim and the +raft--and you'll have to take it out in wondering.") And he said if he +warn't back by midday the duke and me would know it was all right, and +we was to come along. + +So we stayed where we was. The duke he fretted and sweated around, and +was in a mighty sour way. He scolded us for everything, and we couldn't +seem to do nothing right; he found fault with every little thing. +Something was a-brewing, sure. I was good and glad when midday come +and no king; we could have a change, anyway--and maybe a chance for _the_ +change on top of it. So me and the duke went up to the village, and +hunted around there for the king, and by and by we found him in the +back room of a little low doggery, very tight, and a lot of loafers +bullyragging him for sport, and he a-cussing and a-threatening with all +his might, and so tight he couldn't walk, and couldn't do nothing to +them. The duke he begun to abuse him for an old fool, and the king +begun to sass back, and the minute they was fairly at it I lit out and +shook the reefs out of my hind legs, and spun down the river road like +a deer, for I see our chance; and I made up my mind that it would be a +long day before they ever see me and Jim again. I got down there all +out of breath but loaded up with joy, and sung out: + +"Set her loose, Jim! we're all right now!" + +But there warn't no answer, and nobody come out of the wigwam. Jim was +gone! I set up a shout--and then another--and then another one; and run +this way and that in the woods, whooping and screeching; but it warn't +no use--old Jim was gone. Then I set down and cried; I couldn't help +it. But I couldn't set still long. Pretty soon I went out on the road, +trying to think what I better do, and I run across a boy walking, and +asked him if he'd seen a strange nigger dressed so and so, and he says: + +"Yes." + +"Whereabouts?" says I. + +"Down to Silas Phelps' place, two mile below here. He's a runaway +nigger, and they've got him. Was you looking for him?" + +"You bet I ain't! I run across him in the woods about an hour or two +ago, and he said if I hollered he'd cut my livers out--and told me to lay +down and stay where I was; and I done it. Been there ever since; afeard +to come out." + +"Well," he says, "you needn't be afeard no more, becuz they've got him. +He run off f'm down South, som'ers." + +"It's a good job they got him." + +"Well, I _reckon_! There's two hunderd dollars reward on him. It's +like picking up money out'n the road." + +"Yes, it is--and I could a had it if I'd been big enough; I see him +_first_. Who nailed him?" + +"It was an old fellow--a stranger--and he sold out his chance in him for +forty dollars, becuz he's got to go up the river and can't wait. Think +o' that, now! You bet _I'd_ wait, if it was seven year." + +"That's me, every time," says I. "But maybe his chance ain't worth +no more than that, if he'll sell it so cheap. Maybe there's something +ain't straight about it." + +"But it _is_, though--straight as a string. I see the handbill myself. + It tells all about him, to a dot--paints him like a picture, and tells +the plantation he's frum, below Newr_leans_. No-sirree-_bob_, they +ain't no trouble 'bout _that_ speculation, you bet you. Say, gimme a +chaw tobacker, won't ye?" + +I didn't have none, so he left. I went to the raft, and set down in the +wigwam to think. But I couldn't come to nothing. I thought till I wore +my head sore, but I couldn't see no way out of the trouble. After all +this long journey, and after all we'd done for them scoundrels, here it +was all come to nothing, everything all busted up and ruined, because +they could have the heart to serve Jim such a trick as that, and make +him a slave again all his life, and amongst strangers, too, for forty +dirty dollars. + +Once I said to myself it would be a thousand times better for Jim to +be a slave at home where his family was, as long as he'd _got_ to be a +slave, and so I'd better write a letter to Tom Sawyer and tell him to +tell Miss Watson where he was. But I soon give up that notion for two +things: she'd be mad and disgusted at his rascality and ungratefulness +for leaving her, and so she'd sell him straight down the river again; +and if she didn't, everybody naturally despises an ungrateful nigger, +and they'd make Jim feel it all the time, and so he'd feel ornery and +disgraced. And then think of _me_! It would get all around that Huck +Finn helped a nigger to get his freedom; and if I was ever to see +anybody from that town again I'd be ready to get down and lick his boots +for shame. That's just the way: a person does a low-down thing, and +then he don't want to take no consequences of it. Thinks as long as he +can hide it, it ain't no disgrace. That was my fix exactly. The more I +studied about this the more my conscience went to grinding me, and the +more wicked and low-down and ornery I got to feeling. And at last, when +it hit me all of a sudden that here was the plain hand of Providence +slapping me in the face and letting me know my wickedness was being +watched all the time from up there in heaven, whilst I was stealing a +poor old woman's nigger that hadn't ever done me no harm, and now was +showing me there's One that's always on the lookout, and ain't a-going +to allow no such miserable doings to go only just so fur and no further, +I most dropped in my tracks I was so scared. Well, I tried the best I +could to kinder soften it up somehow for myself by saying I was brung +up wicked, and so I warn't so much to blame; but something inside of me +kept saying, "There was the Sunday-school, you could a gone to it; and +if you'd a done it they'd a learnt you there that people that acts as +I'd been acting about that nigger goes to everlasting fire." + +It made me shiver. And I about made up my mind to pray, and see if I +couldn't try to quit being the kind of a boy I was and be better. So +I kneeled down. But the words wouldn't come. Why wouldn't they? It +warn't no use to try and hide it from Him. Nor from _me_, neither. I +knowed very well why they wouldn't come. It was because my heart warn't +right; it was because I warn't square; it was because I was playing +double. I was letting _on_ to give up sin, but away inside of me I was +holding on to the biggest one of all. I was trying to make my mouth +_say_ I would do the right thing and the clean thing, and go and write +to that nigger's owner and tell where he was; but deep down in me I +knowed it was a lie, and He knowed it. You can't pray a lie--I found +that out. + +So I was full of trouble, full as I could be; and didn't know what to +do. At last I had an idea; and I says, I'll go and write the letter--and +then see if I can pray. Why, it was astonishing, the way I felt as +light as a feather right straight off, and my troubles all gone. So I +got a piece of paper and a pencil, all glad and excited, and set down +and wrote: + +Miss Watson, your runaway nigger Jim is down here two mile below +Pikesville, and Mr. Phelps has got him and he will give him up for the +reward if you send. + +_Huck Finn._ + +I felt good and all washed clean of sin for the first time I had ever +felt so in my life, and I knowed I could pray now. But I didn't do it +straight off, but laid the paper down and set there thinking--thinking +how good it was all this happened so, and how near I come to being lost +and going to hell. And went on thinking. And got to thinking over our +trip down the river; and I see Jim before me all the time: in the day +and in the night-time, sometimes moonlight, sometimes storms, and we +a-floating along, talking and singing and laughing. But somehow I +couldn't seem to strike no places to harden me against him, but only the +other kind. I'd see him standing my watch on top of his'n, 'stead of +calling me, so I could go on sleeping; and see him how glad he was when +I come back out of the fog; and when I come to him again in the swamp, +up there where the feud was; and such-like times; and would always call +me honey, and pet me and do everything he could think of for me, and how +good he always was; and at last I struck the time I saved him by telling +the men we had small-pox aboard, and he was so grateful, and said I was +the best friend old Jim ever had in the world, and the _only_ one he's +got now; and then I happened to look around and see that paper. + +It was a close place. I took it up, and held it in my hand. I was +a-trembling, because I'd got to decide, forever, betwixt two things, and +I knowed it. I studied a minute, sort of holding my breath, and then +says to myself: + +"All right, then, I'll _go_ to hell"--and tore it up. + +It was awful thoughts and awful words, but they was said. And I let +them stay said; and never thought no more about reforming. I shoved the +whole thing out of my head, and said I would take up wickedness again, +which was in my line, being brung up to it, and the other warn't. And +for a starter I would go to work and steal Jim out of slavery again; +and if I could think up anything worse, I would do that, too; because as +long as I was in, and in for good, I might as well go the whole hog. + +Then I set to thinking over how to get at it, and turned over some +considerable many ways in my mind; and at last fixed up a plan that +suited me. So then I took the bearings of a woody island that was down +the river a piece, and as soon as it was fairly dark I crept out with my +raft and went for it, and hid it there, and then turned in. I slept the +night through, and got up before it was light, and had my breakfast, +and put on my store clothes, and tied up some others and one thing or +another in a bundle, and took the canoe and cleared for shore. I landed +below where I judged was Phelps's place, and hid my bundle in the woods, +and then filled up the canoe with water, and loaded rocks into her and +sunk her where I could find her again when I wanted her, about a quarter +of a mile below a little steam sawmill that was on the bank. + +Then I struck up the road, and when I passed the mill I see a sign on +it, "Phelps's Sawmill," and when I come to the farm-houses, two or +three hundred yards further along, I kept my eyes peeled, but didn't +see nobody around, though it was good daylight now. But I didn't mind, +because I didn't want to see nobody just yet--I only wanted to get the +lay of the land. According to my plan, I was going to turn up there from +the village, not from below. So I just took a look, and shoved along, +straight for town. Well, the very first man I see when I got there was +the duke. He was sticking up a bill for the Royal Nonesuch--three-night +performance--like that other time. They had the cheek, them frauds! I +was right on him before I could shirk. He looked astonished, and says: + +"Hel-_lo_! Where'd _you_ come from?" Then he says, kind of glad and +eager, "Where's the raft?--got her in a good place?" + +I says: + +"Why, that's just what I was going to ask your grace." + +Then he didn't look so joyful, and says: + +"What was your idea for asking _me_?" he says. + +"Well," I says, "when I see the king in that doggery yesterday I says +to myself, we can't get him home for hours, till he's soberer; so I went +a-loafing around town to put in the time and wait. A man up and offered +me ten cents to help him pull a skiff over the river and back to fetch +a sheep, and so I went along; but when we was dragging him to the boat, +and the man left me a-holt of the rope and went behind him to shove him +along, he was too strong for me and jerked loose and run, and we after +him. We didn't have no dog, and so we had to chase him all over the +country till we tired him out. We never got him till dark; then we +fetched him over, and I started down for the raft. When I got there and +see it was gone, I says to myself, 'They've got into trouble and had to +leave; and they've took my nigger, which is the only nigger I've got in +the world, and now I'm in a strange country, and ain't got no property +no more, nor nothing, and no way to make my living;' so I set down and +cried. I slept in the woods all night. But what _did_ become of the +raft, then?--and Jim--poor Jim!" + +"Blamed if I know--that is, what's become of the raft. That old fool had +made a trade and got forty dollars, and when we found him in the doggery +the loafers had matched half-dollars with him and got every cent but +what he'd spent for whisky; and when I got him home late last night and +found the raft gone, we said, 'That little rascal has stole our raft and +shook us, and run off down the river.'" + +"I wouldn't shake my _nigger_, would I?--the only nigger I had in the +world, and the only property." + +"We never thought of that. Fact is, I reckon we'd come to consider him +_our_ nigger; yes, we did consider him so--goodness knows we had trouble +enough for him. So when we see the raft was gone and we flat broke, +there warn't anything for it but to try the Royal Nonesuch another +shake. And I've pegged along ever since, dry as a powder-horn. Where's +that ten cents? Give it here." + +I had considerable money, so I give him ten cents, but begged him to +spend it for something to eat, and give me some, because it was all the +money I had, and I hadn't had nothing to eat since yesterday. He never +said nothing. The next minute he whirls on me and says: + +"Do you reckon that nigger would blow on us? We'd skin him if he done +that!" + +"How can he blow? Hain't he run off?" + +"No! That old fool sold him, and never divided with me, and the money's +gone." + +"_Sold_ him?" I says, and begun to cry; "why, he was _my_ nigger, and +that was my money. Where is he?--I want my nigger." + +"Well, you can't _get_ your nigger, that's all--so dry up your +blubbering. Looky here--do you think _you'd_ venture to blow on us? + Blamed if I think I'd trust you. Why, if you _was_ to blow on us--" + +He stopped, but I never see the duke look so ugly out of his eyes +before. I went on a-whimpering, and says: + +"I don't want to blow on nobody; and I ain't got no time to blow, nohow. +I got to turn out and find my nigger." + +He looked kinder bothered, and stood there with his bills fluttering on +his arm, thinking, and wrinkling up his forehead. At last he says: + +"I'll tell you something. We got to be here three days. If you'll +promise you won't blow, and won't let the nigger blow, I'll tell you +where to find him." + +So I promised, and he says: + +"A farmer by the name of Silas Ph--" and then he stopped. You see, he +started to tell me the truth; but when he stopped that way, and begun to +study and think again, I reckoned he was changing his mind. And so he +was. He wouldn't trust me; he wanted to make sure of having me out of +the way the whole three days. So pretty soon he says: + +"The man that bought him is named Abram Foster--Abram G. Foster--and he +lives forty mile back here in the country, on the road to Lafayette." + +"All right," I says, "I can walk it in three days. And I'll start this +very afternoon." + +"No you wont, you'll start _now_; and don't you lose any time about it, +neither, nor do any gabbling by the way. Just keep a tight tongue in +your head and move right along, and then you won't get into trouble with +_us_, d'ye hear?" + +That was the order I wanted, and that was the one I played for. I +wanted to be left free to work my plans. + +"So clear out," he says; "and you can tell Mr. Foster whatever you want +to. Maybe you can get him to believe that Jim _is_ your nigger--some +idiots don't require documents--leastways I've heard there's such down +South here. And when you tell him the handbill and the reward's bogus, +maybe he'll believe you when you explain to him what the idea was for +getting 'em out. Go 'long now, and tell him anything you want to; but +mind you don't work your jaw any _between_ here and there." + +So I left, and struck for the back country. I didn't look around, but I +kinder felt like he was watching me. But I knowed I could tire him out +at that. I went straight out in the country as much as a mile before +I stopped; then I doubled back through the woods towards Phelps'. I +reckoned I better start in on my plan straight off without fooling +around, because I wanted to stop Jim's mouth till these fellows could +get away. I didn't want no trouble with their kind. I'd seen all I +wanted to of them, and wanted to get entirely shut of them. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +WHEN I got there it was all still and Sunday-like, and hot and sunshiny; +the hands was gone to the fields; and there was them kind of faint +dronings of bugs and flies in the air that makes it seem so lonesome and +like everybody's dead and gone; and if a breeze fans along and quivers +the leaves it makes you feel mournful, because you feel like it's +spirits whispering--spirits that's been dead ever so many years--and you +always think they're talking about _you_. As a general thing it makes a +body wish _he_ was dead, too, and done with it all. + +Phelps' was one of these little one-horse cotton plantations, and they +all look alike. A rail fence round a two-acre yard; a stile made out +of logs sawed off and up-ended in steps, like barrels of a different +length, to climb over the fence with, and for the women to stand on when +they are going to jump on to a horse; some sickly grass-patches in the +big yard, but mostly it was bare and smooth, like an old hat with the +nap rubbed off; big double log-house for the white folks--hewed logs, +with the chinks stopped up with mud or mortar, and these mud-stripes +been whitewashed some time or another; round-log kitchen, with a big +broad, open but roofed passage joining it to the house; log smoke-house +back of the kitchen; three little log nigger-cabins in a row t'other +side the smoke-house; one little hut all by itself away down against +the back fence, and some outbuildings down a piece the other side; +ash-hopper and big kettle to bile soap in by the little hut; bench by +the kitchen door, with bucket of water and a gourd; hound asleep there +in the sun; more hounds asleep round about; about three shade trees away +off in a corner; some currant bushes and gooseberry bushes in one place +by the fence; outside of the fence a garden and a watermelon patch; then +the cotton fields begins, and after the fields the woods. + +I went around and clumb over the back stile by the ash-hopper, and +started for the kitchen. When I got a little ways I heard the dim hum +of a spinning-wheel wailing along up and sinking along down again; +and then I knowed for certain I wished I was dead--for that _is_ the +lonesomest sound in the whole world. + +I went right along, not fixing up any particular plan, but just trusting +to Providence to put the right words in my mouth when the time come; for +I'd noticed that Providence always did put the right words in my mouth +if I left it alone. + +When I got half-way, first one hound and then another got up and went +for me, and of course I stopped and faced them, and kept still. And +such another powwow as they made! In a quarter of a minute I was a kind +of a hub of a wheel, as you may say--spokes made out of dogs--circle of +fifteen of them packed together around me, with their necks and noses +stretched up towards me, a-barking and howling; and more a-coming; you +could see them sailing over fences and around corners from everywheres. + +A nigger woman come tearing out of the kitchen with a rolling-pin in her +hand, singing out, "Begone _you_ Tige! you Spot! begone sah!" and she +fetched first one and then another of them a clip and sent them howling, +and then the rest followed; and the next second half of them come back, +wagging their tails around me, and making friends with me. There ain't +no harm in a hound, nohow. + +And behind the woman comes a little nigger girl and two little nigger +boys without anything on but tow-linen shirts, and they hung on to their +mother's gown, and peeped out from behind her at me, bashful, the way +they always do. And here comes the white woman running from the house, +about forty-five or fifty year old, bareheaded, and her spinning-stick +in her hand; and behind her comes her little white children, acting the +same way the little niggers was doing. She was smiling all over so she +could hardly stand--and says: + +"It's _you_, at last!--_ain't_ it?" + +I out with a "Yes'm" before I thought. + +She grabbed me and hugged me tight; and then gripped me by both hands +and shook and shook; and the tears come in her eyes, and run down over; +and she couldn't seem to hug and shake enough, and kept saying, "You +don't look as much like your mother as I reckoned you would; but law +sakes, I don't care for that, I'm so glad to see you! Dear, dear, it +does seem like I could eat you up! Children, it's your cousin Tom!--tell +him howdy." + +But they ducked their heads, and put their fingers in their mouths, and +hid behind her. So she run on: + +"Lize, hurry up and get him a hot breakfast right away--or did you get +your breakfast on the boat?" + +I said I had got it on the boat. So then she started for the house, +leading me by the hand, and the children tagging after. When we got +there she set me down in a split-bottomed chair, and set herself down on +a little low stool in front of me, holding both of my hands, and says: + +"Now I can have a _good_ look at you; and, laws-a-me, I've been hungry +for it a many and a many a time, all these long years, and it's come +at last! We been expecting you a couple of days and more. What kep' +you?--boat get aground?" + +"Yes'm--she--" + +"Don't say yes'm--say Aunt Sally. Where'd she get aground?" + +I didn't rightly know what to say, because I didn't know whether the +boat would be coming up the river or down. But I go a good deal on +instinct; and my instinct said she would be coming up--from down towards +Orleans. That didn't help me much, though; for I didn't know the names +of bars down that way. I see I'd got to invent a bar, or forget the +name of the one we got aground on--or--Now I struck an idea, and fetched +it out: + +"It warn't the grounding--that didn't keep us back but a little. We +blowed out a cylinder-head." + +"Good gracious! anybody hurt?" + +"No'm. Killed a nigger." + +"Well, it's lucky; because sometimes people do get hurt. Two years ago +last Christmas your uncle Silas was coming up from Newrleans on the old +Lally Rook, and she blowed out a cylinder-head and crippled a man. And +I think he died afterwards. He was a Baptist. Your uncle Silas knowed +a family in Baton Rouge that knowed his people very well. Yes, I +remember now, he _did_ die. Mortification set in, and they had to +amputate him. But it didn't save him. Yes, it was mortification--that +was it. He turned blue all over, and died in the hope of a glorious +resurrection. They say he was a sight to look at. Your uncle's been up +to the town every day to fetch you. And he's gone again, not more'n an +hour ago; he'll be back any minute now. You must a met him on the road, +didn't you?--oldish man, with a--" + +"No, I didn't see nobody, Aunt Sally. The boat landed just at daylight, +and I left my baggage on the wharf-boat and went looking around the town +and out a piece in the country, to put in the time and not get here too +soon; and so I come down the back way." + +"Who'd you give the baggage to?" + +"Nobody." + +"Why, child, it 'll be stole!" + +"Not where I hid it I reckon it won't," I says. + +"How'd you get your breakfast so early on the boat?" + +It was kinder thin ice, but I says: + +"The captain see me standing around, and told me I better have something +to eat before I went ashore; so he took me in the texas to the officers' +lunch, and give me all I wanted." + +I was getting so uneasy I couldn't listen good. I had my mind on the +children all the time; I wanted to get them out to one side and pump +them a little, and find out who I was. But I couldn't get no show, Mrs. +Phelps kept it up and run on so. Pretty soon she made the cold chills +streak all down my back, because she says: + +"But here we're a-running on this way, and you hain't told me a word +about Sis, nor any of them. Now I'll rest my works a little, and you +start up yourn; just tell me _everything_--tell me all about 'm all every +one of 'm; and how they are, and what they're doing, and what they told +you to tell me; and every last thing you can think of." + +Well, I see I was up a stump--and up it good. Providence had stood by +me this fur all right, but I was hard and tight aground now. I see it +warn't a bit of use to try to go ahead--I'd got to throw up my hand. So +I says to myself, here's another place where I got to resk the truth. + I opened my mouth to begin; but she grabbed me and hustled me in behind +the bed, and says: + +"Here he comes! Stick your head down lower--there, that'll do; you can't +be seen now. Don't you let on you're here. I'll play a joke on him. +Children, don't you say a word." + +I see I was in a fix now. But it warn't no use to worry; there warn't +nothing to do but just hold still, and try and be ready to stand from +under when the lightning struck. + +I had just one little glimpse of the old gentleman when he come in; then +the bed hid him. Mrs. Phelps she jumps for him, and says: + +"Has he come?" + +"No," says her husband. + +"Good-_ness_ gracious!" she says, "what in the warld can have become of +him?" + +"I can't imagine," says the old gentleman; "and I must say it makes me +dreadful uneasy." + +"Uneasy!" she says; "I'm ready to go distracted! He _must_ a come; and +you've missed him along the road. I _know_ it's so--something tells me +so." + +"Why, Sally, I _couldn't_ miss him along the road--_you_ know that." + +"But oh, dear, dear, what _will_ Sis say! He must a come! You must a +missed him. He--" + +"Oh, don't distress me any more'n I'm already distressed. I don't know +what in the world to make of it. I'm at my wit's end, and I don't mind +acknowledging 't I'm right down scared. But there's no hope that he's +come; for he _couldn't_ come and me miss him. Sally, it's terrible--just +terrible--something's happened to the boat, sure!" + +"Why, Silas! Look yonder!--up the road!--ain't that somebody coming?" + +He sprung to the window at the head of the bed, and that give Mrs. +Phelps the chance she wanted. She stooped down quick at the foot of the +bed and give me a pull, and out I come; and when he turned back from the +window there she stood, a-beaming and a-smiling like a house afire, and +I standing pretty meek and sweaty alongside. The old gentleman stared, +and says: + +"Why, who's that?" + +"Who do you reckon 't is?" + +"I hain't no idea. Who _is_ it?" + +"It's _Tom Sawyer!_" + +By jings, I most slumped through the floor! But there warn't no time to +swap knives; the old man grabbed me by the hand and shook, and kept on +shaking; and all the time how the woman did dance around and laugh and +cry; and then how they both did fire off questions about Sid, and Mary, +and the rest of the tribe. + +But if they was joyful, it warn't nothing to what I was; for it was like +being born again, I was so glad to find out who I was. Well, they froze +to me for two hours; and at last, when my chin was so tired it couldn't +hardly go any more, I had told them more about my family--I mean the +Sawyer family--than ever happened to any six Sawyer families. And I +explained all about how we blowed out a cylinder-head at the mouth of +White River, and it took us three days to fix it. Which was all right, +and worked first-rate; because _they_ didn't know but what it would take +three days to fix it. If I'd a called it a bolthead it would a done +just as well. + +Now I was feeling pretty comfortable all down one side, and pretty +uncomfortable all up the other. Being Tom Sawyer was easy and +comfortable, and it stayed easy and comfortable till by and by I hear a +steamboat coughing along down the river. Then I says to myself, s'pose +Tom Sawyer comes down on that boat? And s'pose he steps in here any +minute, and sings out my name before I can throw him a wink to keep +quiet? + +Well, I couldn't _have_ it that way; it wouldn't do at all. I must go +up the road and waylay him. So I told the folks I reckoned I would go +up to the town and fetch down my baggage. The old gentleman was for +going along with me, but I said no, I could drive the horse myself, and +I druther he wouldn't take no trouble about me. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +SO I started for town in the wagon, and when I was half-way I see a +wagon coming, and sure enough it was Tom Sawyer, and I stopped and +waited till he come along. I says "Hold on!" and it stopped alongside, +and his mouth opened up like a trunk, and stayed so; and he swallowed +two or three times like a person that's got a dry throat, and then says: + +"I hain't ever done you no harm. You know that. So, then, what you +want to come back and ha'nt _me_ for?" + +I says: + +"I hain't come back--I hain't been _gone_." + +When he heard my voice it righted him up some, but he warn't quite +satisfied yet. He says: + +"Don't you play nothing on me, because I wouldn't on you. Honest injun +now, you ain't a ghost?" + +"Honest injun, I ain't," I says. + +"Well--I--I--well, that ought to settle it, of course; but I can't somehow +seem to understand it no way. Looky here, warn't you ever murdered _at +all?_" + +"No. I warn't ever murdered at all--I played it on them. You come in +here and feel of me if you don't believe me." + +So he done it; and it satisfied him; and he was that glad to see me +again he didn't know what to do. And he wanted to know all about it +right off, because it was a grand adventure, and mysterious, and so it +hit him where he lived. But I said, leave it alone till by and by; and +told his driver to wait, and we drove off a little piece, and I told +him the kind of a fix I was in, and what did he reckon we better do? He +said, let him alone a minute, and don't disturb him. So he thought and +thought, and pretty soon he says: + +"It's all right; I've got it. Take my trunk in your wagon, and let on +it's your'n; and you turn back and fool along slow, so as to get to the +house about the time you ought to; and I'll go towards town a piece, and +take a fresh start, and get there a quarter or a half an hour after you; +and you needn't let on to know me at first." + +I says: + +"All right; but wait a minute. There's one more thing--a thing that +_nobody_ don't know but me. And that is, there's a nigger here that +I'm a-trying to steal out of slavery, and his name is _Jim_--old Miss +Watson's Jim." + +He says: + +"What! Why, Jim is--" + +He stopped and went to studying. I says: + +"I know what you'll say. You'll say it's dirty, low-down business; but +what if it is? I'm low down; and I'm a-going to steal him, and I want +you keep mum and not let on. Will you?" + +His eye lit up, and he says: + +"I'll _help_ you steal him!" + +Well, I let go all holts then, like I was shot. It was the most +astonishing speech I ever heard--and I'm bound to say Tom Sawyer fell +considerable in my estimation. Only I couldn't believe it. Tom Sawyer +a _nigger-stealer!_ + +"Oh, shucks!" I says; "you're joking." + +"I ain't joking, either." + +"Well, then," I says, "joking or no joking, if you hear anything said +about a runaway nigger, don't forget to remember that _you_ don't know +nothing about him, and I don't know nothing about him." + +Then we took the trunk and put it in my wagon, and he drove off his +way and I drove mine. But of course I forgot all about driving slow on +accounts of being glad and full of thinking; so I got home a heap too +quick for that length of a trip. The old gentleman was at the door, and +he says: + +"Why, this is wonderful! Whoever would a thought it was in that mare +to do it? I wish we'd a timed her. And she hain't sweated a hair--not +a hair. It's wonderful. Why, I wouldn't take a hundred dollars for that +horse now--I wouldn't, honest; and yet I'd a sold her for fifteen before, +and thought 'twas all she was worth." + +That's all he said. He was the innocentest, best old soul I ever see. +But it warn't surprising; because he warn't only just a farmer, he was +a preacher, too, and had a little one-horse log church down back of the +plantation, which he built it himself at his own expense, for a church +and schoolhouse, and never charged nothing for his preaching, and it was +worth it, too. There was plenty other farmer-preachers like that, and +done the same way, down South. + +In about half an hour Tom's wagon drove up to the front stile, and Aunt +Sally she see it through the window, because it was only about fifty +yards, and says: + +"Why, there's somebody come! I wonder who 'tis? Why, I do believe it's +a stranger. Jimmy" (that's one of the children) "run and tell Lize to +put on another plate for dinner." + +Everybody made a rush for the front door, because, of course, a stranger +don't come _every_ year, and so he lays over the yaller-fever, for +interest, when he does come. Tom was over the stile and starting for +the house; the wagon was spinning up the road for the village, and we +was all bunched in the front door. Tom had his store clothes on, and an +audience--and that was always nuts for Tom Sawyer. In them circumstances +it warn't no trouble to him to throw in an amount of style that was +suitable. He warn't a boy to meeky along up that yard like a sheep; no, +he come ca'm and important, like the ram. When he got a-front of us he +lifts his hat ever so gracious and dainty, like it was the lid of a box +that had butterflies asleep in it and he didn't want to disturb them, +and says: + +"Mr. Archibald Nichols, I presume?" + +"No, my boy," says the old gentleman, "I'm sorry to say 't your driver +has deceived you; Nichols's place is down a matter of three mile more. +Come in, come in." + +Tom he took a look back over his shoulder, and says, "Too late--he's out +of sight." + +"Yes, he's gone, my son, and you must come in and eat your dinner with +us; and then we'll hitch up and take you down to Nichols's." + +"Oh, I _can't_ make you so much trouble; I couldn't think of it. I'll +walk--I don't mind the distance." + +"But we won't _let_ you walk--it wouldn't be Southern hospitality to do +it. Come right in." + +"Oh, _do_," says Aunt Sally; "it ain't a bit of trouble to us, not a +bit in the world. You must stay. It's a long, dusty three mile, and +we can't let you walk. And, besides, I've already told 'em to put on +another plate when I see you coming; so you mustn't disappoint us. Come +right in and make yourself at home." + +So Tom he thanked them very hearty and handsome, and let himself be +persuaded, and come in; and when he was in he said he was a stranger +from Hicksville, Ohio, and his name was William Thompson--and he made +another bow. + +Well, he run on, and on, and on, making up stuff about Hicksville and +everybody in it he could invent, and I getting a little nervious, and +wondering how this was going to help me out of my scrape; and at last, +still talking along, he reached over and kissed Aunt Sally right on the +mouth, and then settled back again in his chair comfortable, and was +going on talking; but she jumped up and wiped it off with the back of +her hand, and says: + +"You owdacious puppy!" + +He looked kind of hurt, and says: + +"I'm surprised at you, m'am." + +"You're s'rp--Why, what do you reckon I am? I've a good notion to take +and--Say, what do you mean by kissing me?" + +He looked kind of humble, and says: + +"I didn't mean nothing, m'am. I didn't mean no harm. I--I--thought you'd +like it." + +"Why, you born fool!" She took up the spinning stick, and it looked +like it was all she could do to keep from giving him a crack with it. + "What made you think I'd like it?" + +"Well, I don't know. Only, they--they--told me you would." + +"_They_ told you I would. Whoever told you's _another_ lunatic. I +never heard the beat of it. Who's _they_?" + +"Why, everybody. They all said so, m'am." + +It was all she could do to hold in; and her eyes snapped, and her +fingers worked like she wanted to scratch him; and she says: + +"Who's 'everybody'? Out with their names, or ther'll be an idiot +short." + +He got up and looked distressed, and fumbled his hat, and says: + +"I'm sorry, and I warn't expecting it. They told me to. They all told +me to. They all said, kiss her; and said she'd like it. They all said +it--every one of them. But I'm sorry, m'am, and I won't do it no more--I +won't, honest." + +"You won't, won't you? Well, I sh'd _reckon_ you won't!" + +"No'm, I'm honest about it; I won't ever do it again--till you ask me." + +"Till I _ask_ you! Well, I never see the beat of it in my born days! + I lay you'll be the Methusalem-numskull of creation before ever I ask +you--or the likes of you." + +"Well," he says, "it does surprise me so. I can't make it out, somehow. +They said you would, and I thought you would. But--" He stopped and +looked around slow, like he wished he could run across a friendly eye +somewheres, and fetched up on the old gentleman's, and says, "Didn't +_you_ think she'd like me to kiss her, sir?" + +"Why, no; I--I--well, no, I b'lieve I didn't." + +Then he looks on around the same way to me, and says: + +"Tom, didn't _you_ think Aunt Sally 'd open out her arms and say, 'Sid +Sawyer--'" + +"My land!" she says, breaking in and jumping for him, "you impudent +young rascal, to fool a body so--" and was going to hug him, but he +fended her off, and says: + +"No, not till you've asked me first." + +So she didn't lose no time, but asked him; and hugged him and kissed +him over and over again, and then turned him over to the old man, and he +took what was left. And after they got a little quiet again she says: + +"Why, dear me, I never see such a surprise. We warn't looking for _you_ +at all, but only Tom. Sis never wrote to me about anybody coming but +him." + +"It's because it warn't _intended_ for any of us to come but Tom," he +says; "but I begged and begged, and at the last minute she let me +come, too; so, coming down the river, me and Tom thought it would be a +first-rate surprise for him to come here to the house first, and for me +to by and by tag along and drop in, and let on to be a stranger. But it +was a mistake, Aunt Sally. This ain't no healthy place for a stranger +to come." + +"No--not impudent whelps, Sid. You ought to had your jaws boxed; I +hain't been so put out since I don't know when. But I don't care, I +don't mind the terms--I'd be willing to stand a thousand such jokes to +have you here. Well, to think of that performance! I don't deny it, I +was most putrified with astonishment when you give me that smack." + +We had dinner out in that broad open passage betwixt the house and +the kitchen; and there was things enough on that table for seven +families--and all hot, too; none of your flabby, tough meat that's laid +in a cupboard in a damp cellar all night and tastes like a hunk of +old cold cannibal in the morning. Uncle Silas he asked a pretty long +blessing over it, but it was worth it; and it didn't cool it a bit, +neither, the way I've seen them kind of interruptions do lots of times. + There was a considerable good deal of talk all the afternoon, and me +and Tom was on the lookout all the time; but it warn't no use, they +didn't happen to say nothing about any runaway nigger, and we was afraid +to try to work up to it. But at supper, at night, one of the little +boys says: + +"Pa, mayn't Tom and Sid and me go to the show?" + +"No," says the old man, "I reckon there ain't going to be any; and you +couldn't go if there was; because the runaway nigger told Burton and +me all about that scandalous show, and Burton said he would tell the +people; so I reckon they've drove the owdacious loafers out of town +before this time." + +So there it was!--but I couldn't help it. Tom and me was to sleep in the +same room and bed; so, being tired, we bid good-night and went up to +bed right after supper, and clumb out of the window and down the +lightning-rod, and shoved for the town; for I didn't believe anybody was +going to give the king and the duke a hint, and so if I didn't hurry up +and give them one they'd get into trouble sure. + +On the road Tom he told me all about how it was reckoned I was murdered, +and how pap disappeared pretty soon, and didn't come back no more, and +what a stir there was when Jim run away; and I told Tom all about our +Royal Nonesuch rapscallions, and as much of the raft voyage as I had +time to; and as we struck into the town and up through the the middle of +it--it was as much as half-after eight, then--here comes a raging rush of +people with torches, and an awful whooping and yelling, and banging tin +pans and blowing horns; and we jumped to one side to let them go by; +and as they went by I see they had the king and the duke astraddle of a +rail--that is, I knowed it _was_ the king and the duke, though they was +all over tar and feathers, and didn't look like nothing in the +world that was human--just looked like a couple of monstrous big +soldier-plumes. Well, it made me sick to see it; and I was sorry for +them poor pitiful rascals, it seemed like I couldn't ever feel any +hardness against them any more in the world. It was a dreadful thing to +see. Human beings _can_ be awful cruel to one another. + +We see we was too late--couldn't do no good. We asked some stragglers +about it, and they said everybody went to the show looking very +innocent; and laid low and kept dark till the poor old king was in the +middle of his cavortings on the stage; then somebody give a signal, and +the house rose up and went for them. + +So we poked along back home, and I warn't feeling so brash as I was +before, but kind of ornery, and humble, and to blame, somehow--though +I hadn't done nothing. But that's always the way; it don't make no +difference whether you do right or wrong, a person's conscience ain't +got no sense, and just goes for him anyway. If I had a yaller dog that +didn't know no more than a person's conscience does I would pison him. +It takes up more room than all the rest of a person's insides, and yet +ain't no good, nohow. Tom Sawyer he says the same. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +WE stopped talking, and got to thinking. By and by Tom says: + +"Looky here, Huck, what fools we are to not think of it before! I bet I +know where Jim is." + +"No! Where?" + +"In that hut down by the ash-hopper. Why, looky here. When we was at +dinner, didn't you see a nigger man go in there with some vittles?" + +"Yes." + +"What did you think the vittles was for?" + +"For a dog." + +"So 'd I. Well, it wasn't for a dog." + +"Why?" + +"Because part of it was watermelon." + +"So it was--I noticed it. Well, it does beat all that I never thought +about a dog not eating watermelon. It shows how a body can see and +don't see at the same time." + +"Well, the nigger unlocked the padlock when he went in, and he locked it +again when he came out. He fetched uncle a key about the time we got up +from table--same key, I bet. Watermelon shows man, lock shows prisoner; +and it ain't likely there's two prisoners on such a little plantation, +and where the people's all so kind and good. Jim's the prisoner. All +right--I'm glad we found it out detective fashion; I wouldn't give shucks +for any other way. Now you work your mind, and study out a plan to +steal Jim, and I will study out one, too; and we'll take the one we like +the best." + +What a head for just a boy to have! If I had Tom Sawyer's head I +wouldn't trade it off to be a duke, nor mate of a steamboat, nor clown +in a circus, nor nothing I can think of. I went to thinking out a plan, +but only just to be doing something; I knowed very well where the right +plan was going to come from. Pretty soon Tom says: + +"Ready?" + +"Yes," I says. + +"All right--bring it out." + +"My plan is this," I says. "We can easy find out if it's Jim in there. +Then get up my canoe to-morrow night, and fetch my raft over from the +island. Then the first dark night that comes steal the key out of the +old man's britches after he goes to bed, and shove off down the river +on the raft with Jim, hiding daytimes and running nights, the way me and +Jim used to do before. Wouldn't that plan work?" + +"_Work_? Why, cert'nly it would work, like rats a-fighting. But it's +too blame' simple; there ain't nothing _to_ it. What's the good of a +plan that ain't no more trouble than that? It's as mild as goose-milk. + Why, Huck, it wouldn't make no more talk than breaking into a soap +factory." + +I never said nothing, because I warn't expecting nothing different; but +I knowed mighty well that whenever he got _his_ plan ready it wouldn't +have none of them objections to it. + +And it didn't. He told me what it was, and I see in a minute it was +worth fifteen of mine for style, and would make Jim just as free a man +as mine would, and maybe get us all killed besides. So I was satisfied, +and said we would waltz in on it. I needn't tell what it was here, +because I knowed it wouldn't stay the way, it was. I knowed he would be +changing it around every which way as we went along, and heaving in new +bullinesses wherever he got a chance. And that is what he done. + +Well, one thing was dead sure, and that was that Tom Sawyer was in +earnest, and was actuly going to help steal that nigger out of slavery. +That was the thing that was too many for me. Here was a boy that was +respectable and well brung up; and had a character to lose; and folks at +home that had characters; and he was bright and not leather-headed; and +knowing and not ignorant; and not mean, but kind; and yet here he was, +without any more pride, or rightness, or feeling, than to stoop to +this business, and make himself a shame, and his family a shame, +before everybody. I _couldn't_ understand it no way at all. It was +outrageous, and I knowed I ought to just up and tell him so; and so be +his true friend, and let him quit the thing right where he was and save +himself. And I _did_ start to tell him; but he shut me up, and says: + +"Don't you reckon I know what I'm about? Don't I generly know what I'm +about?" + +"Yes." + +"Didn't I _say_ I was going to help steal the nigger?" + +"Yes." + +"_Well_, then." + +That's all he said, and that's all I said. It warn't no use to say any +more; because when he said he'd do a thing, he always done it. But I +couldn't make out how he was willing to go into this thing; so I just +let it go, and never bothered no more about it. If he was bound to have +it so, I couldn't help it. + +When we got home the house was all dark and still; so we went on down to +the hut by the ash-hopper for to examine it. We went through the yard +so as to see what the hounds would do. They knowed us, and didn't make +no more noise than country dogs is always doing when anything comes by +in the night. When we got to the cabin we took a look at the front and +the two sides; and on the side I warn't acquainted with--which was the +north side--we found a square window-hole, up tolerable high, with just +one stout board nailed across it. I says: + +"Here's the ticket. This hole's big enough for Jim to get through if we +wrench off the board." + +Tom says: + +"It's as simple as tit-tat-toe, three-in-a-row, and as easy as +playing hooky. I should _hope_ we can find a way that's a little more +complicated than _that_, Huck Finn." + +"Well, then," I says, "how 'll it do to saw him out, the way I done +before I was murdered that time?" + +"That's more _like_," he says. "It's real mysterious, and troublesome, +and good," he says; "but I bet we can find a way that's twice as long. + There ain't no hurry; le's keep on looking around." + +Betwixt the hut and the fence, on the back side, was a lean-to that +joined the hut at the eaves, and was made out of plank. It was as long +as the hut, but narrow--only about six foot wide. The door to it was at +the south end, and was padlocked. Tom he went to the soap-kettle and +searched around, and fetched back the iron thing they lift the lid with; +so he took it and prized out one of the staples. The chain fell down, +and we opened the door and went in, and shut it, and struck a match, +and see the shed was only built against a cabin and hadn't no connection +with it; and there warn't no floor to the shed, nor nothing in it but +some old rusty played-out hoes and spades and picks and a crippled plow. + The match went out, and so did we, and shoved in the staple again, and +the door was locked as good as ever. Tom was joyful. He says; + +"Now we're all right. We'll _dig_ him out. It 'll take about a week!" + +Then we started for the house, and I went in the back door--you only have +to pull a buckskin latch-string, they don't fasten the doors--but that +warn't romantical enough for Tom Sawyer; no way would do him but he must +climb up the lightning-rod. But after he got up half way about three +times, and missed fire and fell every time, and the last time most +busted his brains out, he thought he'd got to give it up; but after he +was rested he allowed he would give her one more turn for luck, and this +time he made the trip. + +In the morning we was up at break of day, and down to the nigger cabins +to pet the dogs and make friends with the nigger that fed Jim--if it +_was_ Jim that was being fed. The niggers was just getting through +breakfast and starting for the fields; and Jim's nigger was piling up +a tin pan with bread and meat and things; and whilst the others was +leaving, the key come from the house. + +This nigger had a good-natured, chuckle-headed face, and his wool was +all tied up in little bunches with thread. That was to keep witches +off. He said the witches was pestering him awful these nights, and +making him see all kinds of strange things, and hear all kinds of +strange words and noises, and he didn't believe he was ever witched so +long before in his life. He got so worked up, and got to running on so +about his troubles, he forgot all about what he'd been a-going to do. + So Tom says: + +"What's the vittles for? Going to feed the dogs?" + +The nigger kind of smiled around gradually over his face, like when you +heave a brickbat in a mud-puddle, and he says: + +"Yes, Mars Sid, A dog. Cur'us dog, too. Does you want to go en look at +'im?" + +"Yes." + +I hunched Tom, and whispers: + +"You going, right here in the daybreak? _that_ warn't the plan." + +"No, it warn't; but it's the plan _now_." + +So, drat him, we went along, but I didn't like it much. When we got in +we couldn't hardly see anything, it was so dark; but Jim was there, sure +enough, and could see us; and he sings out: + +"Why, _Huck_! En good _lan_'! ain' dat Misto Tom?" + +I just knowed how it would be; I just expected it. I didn't know +nothing to do; and if I had I couldn't a done it, because that nigger +busted in and says: + +"Why, de gracious sakes! do he know you genlmen?" + +We could see pretty well now. Tom he looked at the nigger, steady and +kind of wondering, and says: + +"Does _who_ know us?" + +"Why, dis-yer runaway nigger." + +"I don't reckon he does; but what put that into your head?" + +"What _put_ it dar? Didn' he jis' dis minute sing out like he knowed +you?" + +Tom says, in a puzzled-up kind of way: + +"Well, that's mighty curious. _Who_ sung out? _when_ did he sing out? + _what_ did he sing out?" And turns to me, perfectly ca'm, and says, +"Did _you_ hear anybody sing out?" + +Of course there warn't nothing to be said but the one thing; so I says: + +"No; I ain't heard nobody say nothing." + +Then he turns to Jim, and looks him over like he never see him before, +and says: + +"Did you sing out?" + +"No, sah," says Jim; "I hain't said nothing, sah." + +"Not a word?" + +"No, sah, I hain't said a word." + +"Did you ever see us before?" + +"No, sah; not as I knows on." + +So Tom turns to the nigger, which was looking wild and distressed, and +says, kind of severe: + +"What do you reckon's the matter with you, anyway? What made you think +somebody sung out?" + +"Oh, it's de dad-blame' witches, sah, en I wisht I was dead, I do. + Dey's awluz at it, sah, en dey do mos' kill me, dey sk'yers me so. + Please to don't tell nobody 'bout it sah, er ole Mars Silas he'll scole +me; 'kase he say dey _ain't_ no witches. I jis' wish to goodness he was +heah now--_den_ what would he say! I jis' bet he couldn' fine no way to +git aroun' it _dis_ time. But it's awluz jis' so; people dat's _sot_, +stays sot; dey won't look into noth'n'en fine it out f'r deyselves, en +when _you_ fine it out en tell um 'bout it, dey doan' b'lieve you." + +Tom give him a dime, and said we wouldn't tell nobody; and told him to +buy some more thread to tie up his wool with; and then looks at Jim, and +says: + +"I wonder if Uncle Silas is going to hang this nigger. If I was to +catch a nigger that was ungrateful enough to run away, I wouldn't give +him up, I'd hang him." And whilst the nigger stepped to the door to +look at the dime and bite it to see if it was good, he whispers to Jim +and says: + +"Don't ever let on to know us. And if you hear any digging going on +nights, it's us; we're going to set you free." + +Jim only had time to grab us by the hand and squeeze it; then the nigger +come back, and we said we'd come again some time if the nigger wanted +us to; and he said he would, more particular if it was dark, because the +witches went for him mostly in the dark, and it was good to have folks +around then. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +IT would be most an hour yet till breakfast, so we left and struck down +into the woods; because Tom said we got to have _some_ light to see how +to dig by, and a lantern makes too much, and might get us into trouble; +what we must have was a lot of them rotten chunks that's called +fox-fire, and just makes a soft kind of a glow when you lay them in a +dark place. We fetched an armful and hid it in the weeds, and set down +to rest, and Tom says, kind of dissatisfied: + +"Blame it, this whole thing is just as easy and awkward as it can be. +And so it makes it so rotten difficult to get up a difficult plan. + There ain't no watchman to be drugged--now there _ought_ to be a +watchman. There ain't even a dog to give a sleeping-mixture to. And +there's Jim chained by one leg, with a ten-foot chain, to the leg of his +bed: why, all you got to do is to lift up the bedstead and slip off +the chain. And Uncle Silas he trusts everybody; sends the key to the +punkin-headed nigger, and don't send nobody to watch the nigger. Jim +could a got out of that window-hole before this, only there wouldn't be +no use trying to travel with a ten-foot chain on his leg. Why, drat it, +Huck, it's the stupidest arrangement I ever see. You got to invent _all_ +the difficulties. Well, we can't help it; we got to do the best we can +with the materials we've got. Anyhow, there's one thing--there's more +honor in getting him out through a lot of difficulties and dangers, +where there warn't one of them furnished to you by the people who it was +their duty to furnish them, and you had to contrive them all out of your +own head. Now look at just that one thing of the lantern. When you +come down to the cold facts, we simply got to _let on_ that a lantern's +resky. Why, we could work with a torchlight procession if we wanted to, +I believe. Now, whilst I think of it, we got to hunt up something to +make a saw out of the first chance we get." + +"What do we want of a saw?" + +"What do we _want_ of it? Hain't we got to saw the leg of Jim's bed +off, so as to get the chain loose?" + +"Why, you just said a body could lift up the bedstead and slip the chain +off." + +"Well, if that ain't just like you, Huck Finn. You _can_ get up the +infant-schooliest ways of going at a thing. Why, hain't you ever read +any books at all?--Baron Trenck, nor Casanova, nor Benvenuto Chelleeny, +nor Henri IV., nor none of them heroes? Who ever heard of getting a +prisoner loose in such an old-maidy way as that? No; the way all the +best authorities does is to saw the bed-leg in two, and leave it just +so, and swallow the sawdust, so it can't be found, and put some dirt and +grease around the sawed place so the very keenest seneskal can't see +no sign of it's being sawed, and thinks the bed-leg is perfectly sound. +Then, the night you're ready, fetch the leg a kick, down she goes; slip +off your chain, and there you are. Nothing to do but hitch your +rope ladder to the battlements, shin down it, break your leg in the +moat--because a rope ladder is nineteen foot too short, you know--and +there's your horses and your trusty vassles, and they scoop you up and +fling you across a saddle, and away you go to your native Langudoc, or +Navarre, or wherever it is. It's gaudy, Huck. I wish there was a moat +to this cabin. If we get time, the night of the escape, we'll dig one." + +I says: + +"What do we want of a moat when we're going to snake him out from under +the cabin?" + +But he never heard me. He had forgot me and everything else. He had +his chin in his hand, thinking. Pretty soon he sighs and shakes his +head; then sighs again, and says: + +"No, it wouldn't do--there ain't necessity enough for it." + +"For what?" I says. + +"Why, to saw Jim's leg off," he says. + +"Good land!" I says; "why, there ain't _no_ necessity for it. And what +would you want to saw his leg off for, anyway?" + +"Well, some of the best authorities has done it. They couldn't get the +chain off, so they just cut their hand off and shoved. And a leg would +be better still. But we got to let that go. There ain't necessity +enough in this case; and, besides, Jim's a nigger, and wouldn't +understand the reasons for it, and how it's the custom in Europe; so +we'll let it go. But there's one thing--he can have a rope ladder; we +can tear up our sheets and make him a rope ladder easy enough. And we +can send it to him in a pie; it's mostly done that way. And I've et +worse pies." + +"Why, Tom Sawyer, how you talk," I says; "Jim ain't got no use for a +rope ladder." + +"He _has_ got use for it. How _you_ talk, you better say; you don't +know nothing about it. He's _got_ to have a rope ladder; they all do." + +"What in the nation can he _do_ with it?" + +"_Do_ with it? He can hide it in his bed, can't he?" That's what they +all do; and _he's_ got to, too. Huck, you don't ever seem to want to do +anything that's regular; you want to be starting something fresh all the +time. S'pose he _don't_ do nothing with it? ain't it there in his bed, +for a clew, after he's gone? and don't you reckon they'll want clews? + Of course they will. And you wouldn't leave them any? That would be a +_pretty_ howdy-do, _wouldn't_ it! I never heard of such a thing." + +"Well," I says, "if it's in the regulations, and he's got to have +it, all right, let him have it; because I don't wish to go back on no +regulations; but there's one thing, Tom Sawyer--if we go to tearing up +our sheets to make Jim a rope ladder, we're going to get into trouble +with Aunt Sally, just as sure as you're born. Now, the way I look at +it, a hickry-bark ladder don't cost nothing, and don't waste nothing, +and is just as good to load up a pie with, and hide in a straw tick, +as any rag ladder you can start; and as for Jim, he ain't had no +experience, and so he don't care what kind of a--" + +"Oh, shucks, Huck Finn, if I was as ignorant as you I'd keep +still--that's what I'D do. Who ever heard of a state prisoner escaping +by a hickry-bark ladder? Why, it's perfectly ridiculous." + +"Well, all right, Tom, fix it your own way; but if you'll take my +advice, you'll let me borrow a sheet off of the clothesline." + +He said that would do. And that gave him another idea, and he says: + +"Borrow a shirt, too." + +"What do we want of a shirt, Tom?" + +"Want it for Jim to keep a journal on." + +"Journal your granny--_Jim_ can't write." + +"S'pose he _can't_ write--he can make marks on the shirt, can't he, if +we make him a pen out of an old pewter spoon or a piece of an old iron +barrel-hoop?" + +"Why, Tom, we can pull a feather out of a goose and make him a better +one; and quicker, too." + +"_Prisoners_ don't have geese running around the donjon-keep to pull +pens out of, you muggins. They _always_ make their pens out of the +hardest, toughest, troublesomest piece of old brass candlestick or +something like that they can get their hands on; and it takes them weeks +and weeks and months and months to file it out, too, because they've got +to do it by rubbing it on the wall. _They_ wouldn't use a goose-quill +if they had it. It ain't regular." + +"Well, then, what'll we make him the ink out of?" + +"Many makes it out of iron-rust and tears; but that's the common sort +and women; the best authorities uses their own blood. Jim can do that; +and when he wants to send any little common ordinary mysterious message +to let the world know where he's captivated, he can write it on the +bottom of a tin plate with a fork and throw it out of the window. The +Iron Mask always done that, and it's a blame' good way, too." + +"Jim ain't got no tin plates. They feed him in a pan." + +"That ain't nothing; we can get him some." + +"Can't nobody _read_ his plates." + +"That ain't got anything to _do_ with it, Huck Finn. All _he's_ got to +do is to write on the plate and throw it out. You don't _have_ to be +able to read it. Why, half the time you can't read anything a prisoner +writes on a tin plate, or anywhere else." + +"Well, then, what's the sense in wasting the plates?" + +"Why, blame it all, it ain't the _prisoner's_ plates." + +"But it's _somebody's_ plates, ain't it?" + +"Well, spos'n it is? What does the _prisoner_ care whose--" + +He broke off there, because we heard the breakfast-horn blowing. So we +cleared out for the house. + +Along during the morning I borrowed a sheet and a white shirt off of the +clothes-line; and I found an old sack and put them in it, and we went +down and got the fox-fire, and put that in too. I called it borrowing, +because that was what pap always called it; but Tom said it warn't +borrowing, it was stealing. He said we was representing prisoners; and +prisoners don't care how they get a thing so they get it, and nobody +don't blame them for it, either. It ain't no crime in a prisoner to +steal the thing he needs to get away with, Tom said; it's his right; and +so, as long as we was representing a prisoner, we had a perfect right to +steal anything on this place we had the least use for to get ourselves +out of prison with. He said if we warn't prisoners it would be a very +different thing, and nobody but a mean, ornery person would steal when +he warn't a prisoner. So we allowed we would steal everything there was +that come handy. And yet he made a mighty fuss, one day, after that, +when I stole a watermelon out of the nigger-patch and eat it; and he +made me go and give the niggers a dime without telling them what it +was for. Tom said that what he meant was, we could steal anything we +_needed_. Well, I says, I needed the watermelon. But he said I didn't +need it to get out of prison with; there's where the difference was. + He said if I'd a wanted it to hide a knife in, and smuggle it to Jim +to kill the seneskal with, it would a been all right. So I let it go at +that, though I couldn't see no advantage in my representing a prisoner +if I got to set down and chaw over a lot of gold-leaf distinctions like +that every time I see a chance to hog a watermelon. + +Well, as I was saying, we waited that morning till everybody was settled +down to business, and nobody in sight around the yard; then Tom he +carried the sack into the lean-to whilst I stood off a piece to keep +watch. By and by he come out, and we went and set down on the woodpile +to talk. He says: + +"Everything's all right now except tools; and that's easy fixed." + +"Tools?" I says. + +"Yes." + +"Tools for what?" + +"Why, to dig with. We ain't a-going to _gnaw_ him out, are we?" + +"Ain't them old crippled picks and things in there good enough to dig a +nigger out with?" I says. + +He turns on me, looking pitying enough to make a body cry, and says: + +"Huck Finn, did you _ever_ hear of a prisoner having picks and shovels, +and all the modern conveniences in his wardrobe to dig himself out with? + Now I want to ask you--if you got any reasonableness in you at all--what +kind of a show would _that_ give him to be a hero? Why, they might as +well lend him the key and done with it. Picks and shovels--why, they +wouldn't furnish 'em to a king." + +"Well, then," I says, "if we don't want the picks and shovels, what do +we want?" + +"A couple of case-knives." + +"To dig the foundations out from under that cabin with?" + +"Yes." + +"Confound it, it's foolish, Tom." + +"It don't make no difference how foolish it is, it's the _right_ way--and +it's the regular way. And there ain't no _other_ way, that ever I heard +of, and I've read all the books that gives any information about these +things. They always dig out with a case-knife--and not through dirt, mind +you; generly it's through solid rock. And it takes them weeks and weeks +and weeks, and for ever and ever. Why, look at one of them prisoners in +the bottom dungeon of the Castle Deef, in the harbor of Marseilles, that +dug himself out that way; how long was _he_ at it, you reckon?" + +"I don't know." + +"Well, guess." + +"I don't know. A month and a half." + +"_Thirty-seven year_--and he come out in China. _That's_ the kind. I +wish the bottom of _this_ fortress was solid rock." + +"_Jim_ don't know nobody in China." + +"What's _that_ got to do with it? Neither did that other fellow. But +you're always a-wandering off on a side issue. Why can't you stick to +the main point?" + +"All right--I don't care where he comes out, so he _comes_ out; and Jim +don't, either, I reckon. But there's one thing, anyway--Jim's too old to +be dug out with a case-knife. He won't last." + +"Yes he will _last_, too. You don't reckon it's going to take +thirty-seven years to dig out through a _dirt_ foundation, do you?" + +"How long will it take, Tom?" + +"Well, we can't resk being as long as we ought to, because it mayn't +take very long for Uncle Silas to hear from down there by New Orleans. + He'll hear Jim ain't from there. Then his next move will be to +advertise Jim, or something like that. So we can't resk being as long +digging him out as we ought to. By rights I reckon we ought to be +a couple of years; but we can't. Things being so uncertain, what I +recommend is this: that we really dig right in, as quick as we can; +and after that, we can _let on_, to ourselves, that we was at it +thirty-seven years. Then we can snatch him out and rush him away the +first time there's an alarm. Yes, I reckon that 'll be the best way." + +"Now, there's _sense_ in that," I says. "Letting on don't cost nothing; +letting on ain't no trouble; and if it's any object, I don't mind +letting on we was at it a hundred and fifty year. It wouldn't strain +me none, after I got my hand in. So I'll mosey along now, and smouch a +couple of case-knives." + +"Smouch three," he says; "we want one to make a saw out of." + +"Tom, if it ain't unregular and irreligious to sejest it," I says, +"there's an old rusty saw-blade around yonder sticking under the +weather-boarding behind the smoke-house." + +He looked kind of weary and discouraged-like, and says: + +"It ain't no use to try to learn you nothing, Huck. Run along and +smouch the knives--three of them." So I done it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +AS soon as we reckoned everybody was asleep that night we went down the +lightning-rod, and shut ourselves up in the lean-to, and got out our +pile of fox-fire, and went to work. We cleared everything out of the +way, about four or five foot along the middle of the bottom log. Tom +said he was right behind Jim's bed now, and we'd dig in under it, and +when we got through there couldn't nobody in the cabin ever know there +was any hole there, because Jim's counter-pin hung down most to the +ground, and you'd have to raise it up and look under to see the hole. + So we dug and dug with the case-knives till most midnight; and then +we was dog-tired, and our hands was blistered, and yet you couldn't see +we'd done anything hardly. At last I says: + +"This ain't no thirty-seven year job; this is a thirty-eight year job, +Tom Sawyer." + +He never said nothing. But he sighed, and pretty soon he stopped +digging, and then for a good little while I knowed that he was thinking. +Then he says: + +"It ain't no use, Huck, it ain't a-going to work. If we was prisoners +it would, because then we'd have as many years as we wanted, and no +hurry; and we wouldn't get but a few minutes to dig, every day, while +they was changing watches, and so our hands wouldn't get blistered, and +we could keep it up right along, year in and year out, and do it right, +and the way it ought to be done. But _we_ can't fool along; we got to +rush; we ain't got no time to spare. If we was to put in another +night this way we'd have to knock off for a week to let our hands get +well--couldn't touch a case-knife with them sooner." + +"Well, then, what we going to do, Tom?" + +"I'll tell you. It ain't right, and it ain't moral, and I wouldn't like +it to get out; but there ain't only just the one way: we got to dig him +out with the picks, and _let on_ it's case-knives." + +"_Now_ you're _talking_!" I says; "your head gets leveler and leveler +all the time, Tom Sawyer," I says. "Picks is the thing, moral or no +moral; and as for me, I don't care shucks for the morality of it, nohow. + When I start in to steal a nigger, or a watermelon, or a Sunday-school +book, I ain't no ways particular how it's done so it's done. What I +want is my nigger; or what I want is my watermelon; or what I want is my +Sunday-school book; and if a pick's the handiest thing, that's the thing +I'm a-going to dig that nigger or that watermelon or that Sunday-school +book out with; and I don't give a dead rat what the authorities thinks +about it nuther." + +"Well," he says, "there's excuse for picks and letting-on in a case like +this; if it warn't so, I wouldn't approve of it, nor I wouldn't stand by +and see the rules broke--because right is right, and wrong is wrong, +and a body ain't got no business doing wrong when he ain't ignorant and +knows better. It might answer for _you_ to dig Jim out with a pick, +_without_ any letting on, because you don't know no better; but it +wouldn't for me, because I do know better. Gimme a case-knife." + +He had his own by him, but I handed him mine. He flung it down, and +says: + +"Gimme a _case-knife_." + +I didn't know just what to do--but then I thought. I scratched around +amongst the old tools, and got a pickaxe and give it to him, and he took +it and went to work, and never said a word. + +He was always just that particular. Full of principle. + +So then I got a shovel, and then we picked and shoveled, turn about, +and made the fur fly. We stuck to it about a half an hour, which was as +long as we could stand up; but we had a good deal of a hole to show for +it. When I got up stairs I looked out at the window and see Tom doing +his level best with the lightning-rod, but he couldn't come it, his +hands was so sore. At last he says: + +"It ain't no use, it can't be done. What you reckon I better do? Can't +you think of no way?" + +"Yes," I says, "but I reckon it ain't regular. Come up the stairs, and +let on it's a lightning-rod." + +So he done it. + +Next day Tom stole a pewter spoon and a brass candlestick in the house, +for to make some pens for Jim out of, and six tallow candles; and I +hung around the nigger cabins and laid for a chance, and stole three tin +plates. Tom says it wasn't enough; but I said nobody wouldn't ever see +the plates that Jim throwed out, because they'd fall in the dog-fennel +and jimpson weeds under the window-hole--then we could tote them back and +he could use them over again. So Tom was satisfied. Then he says: + +"Now, the thing to study out is, how to get the things to Jim." + +"Take them in through the hole," I says, "when we get it done." + +He only just looked scornful, and said something about nobody ever heard +of such an idiotic idea, and then he went to studying. By and by he +said he had ciphered out two or three ways, but there warn't no need to +decide on any of them yet. Said we'd got to post Jim first. + +That night we went down the lightning-rod a little after ten, and took +one of the candles along, and listened under the window-hole, and heard +Jim snoring; so we pitched it in, and it didn't wake him. Then we +whirled in with the pick and shovel, and in about two hours and a half +the job was done. We crept in under Jim's bed and into the cabin, and +pawed around and found the candle and lit it, and stood over Jim awhile, +and found him looking hearty and healthy, and then we woke him up gentle +and gradual. He was so glad to see us he most cried; and called us +honey, and all the pet names he could think of; and was for having us +hunt up a cold-chisel to cut the chain off of his leg with right away, +and clearing out without losing any time. But Tom he showed him how +unregular it would be, and set down and told him all about our plans, +and how we could alter them in a minute any time there was an alarm; and +not to be the least afraid, because we would see he got away, _sure_. + So Jim he said it was all right, and we set there and talked over old +times awhile, and then Tom asked a lot of questions, and when Jim told +him Uncle Silas come in every day or two to pray with him, and Aunt +Sally come in to see if he was comfortable and had plenty to eat, and +both of them was kind as they could be, Tom says: + +"_Now_ I know how to fix it. We'll send you some things by them." + +I said, "Don't do nothing of the kind; it's one of the most jackass +ideas I ever struck;" but he never paid no attention to me; went right +on. It was his way when he'd got his plans set. + +So he told Jim how we'd have to smuggle in the rope-ladder pie and other +large things by Nat, the nigger that fed him, and he must be on the +lookout, and not be surprised, and not let Nat see him open them; and +we would put small things in uncle's coat-pockets and he must steal them +out; and we would tie things to aunt's apron-strings or put them in her +apron-pocket, if we got a chance; and told him what they would be and +what they was for. And told him how to keep a journal on the shirt with +his blood, and all that. He told him everything. Jim he couldn't see +no sense in the most of it, but he allowed we was white folks and knowed +better than him; so he was satisfied, and said he would do it all just +as Tom said. + +Jim had plenty corn-cob pipes and tobacco; so we had a right down good +sociable time; then we crawled out through the hole, and so home to +bed, with hands that looked like they'd been chawed. Tom was in high +spirits. He said it was the best fun he ever had in his life, and the +most intellectural; and said if he only could see his way to it we would +keep it up all the rest of our lives and leave Jim to our children to +get out; for he believed Jim would come to like it better and better the +more he got used to it. He said that in that way it could be strung out +to as much as eighty year, and would be the best time on record. And he +said it would make us all celebrated that had a hand in it. + +In the morning we went out to the woodpile and chopped up the brass +candlestick into handy sizes, and Tom put them and the pewter spoon in +his pocket. Then we went to the nigger cabins, and while I got Nat's +notice off, Tom shoved a piece of candlestick into the middle of a +corn-pone that was in Jim's pan, and we went along with Nat to see how +it would work, and it just worked noble; when Jim bit into it it most +mashed all his teeth out; and there warn't ever anything could a worked +better. Tom said so himself. Jim he never let on but what it was only +just a piece of rock or something like that that's always getting into +bread, you know; but after that he never bit into nothing but what he +jabbed his fork into it in three or four places first. + +And whilst we was a-standing there in the dimmish light, here comes a +couple of the hounds bulging in from under Jim's bed; and they kept on +piling in till there was eleven of them, and there warn't hardly room +in there to get your breath. By jings, we forgot to fasten that lean-to +door! The nigger Nat he only just hollered "Witches" once, and keeled +over on to the floor amongst the dogs, and begun to groan like he was +dying. Tom jerked the door open and flung out a slab of Jim's meat, +and the dogs went for it, and in two seconds he was out himself and back +again and shut the door, and I knowed he'd fixed the other door too. +Then he went to work on the nigger, coaxing him and petting him, and +asking him if he'd been imagining he saw something again. He raised up, +and blinked his eyes around, and says: + +"Mars Sid, you'll say I's a fool, but if I didn't b'lieve I see most a +million dogs, er devils, er some'n, I wisht I may die right heah in dese +tracks. I did, mos' sholy. Mars Sid, I _felt_ um--I _felt_ um, sah; dey +was all over me. Dad fetch it, I jis' wisht I could git my han's on one +er dem witches jis' wunst--on'y jis' wunst--it's all I'd ast. But mos'ly +I wisht dey'd lemme 'lone, I does." + +Tom says: + +"Well, I tell you what I think. What makes them come here just at this +runaway nigger's breakfast-time? It's because they're hungry; that's +the reason. You make them a witch pie; that's the thing for _you_ to +do." + +"But my lan', Mars Sid, how's I gwyne to make 'm a witch pie? I doan' +know how to make it. I hain't ever hearn er sich a thing b'fo'." + +"Well, then, I'll have to make it myself." + +"Will you do it, honey?--will you? I'll wusshup de groun' und' yo' foot, +I will!" + +"All right, I'll do it, seeing it's you, and you've been good to us and +showed us the runaway nigger. But you got to be mighty careful. When +we come around, you turn your back; and then whatever we've put in the +pan, don't you let on you see it at all. And don't you look when Jim +unloads the pan--something might happen, I don't know what. And above +all, don't you _handle_ the witch-things." + +"_Hannel 'M_, Mars Sid? What _is_ you a-talkin' 'bout? I wouldn' +lay de weight er my finger on um, not f'r ten hund'd thous'n billion +dollars, I wouldn't." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +THAT was all fixed. So then we went away and went to the rubbage-pile +in the back yard, where they keep the old boots, and rags, and pieces +of bottles, and wore-out tin things, and all such truck, and scratched +around and found an old tin washpan, and stopped up the holes as well as +we could, to bake the pie in, and took it down cellar and stole it full +of flour and started for breakfast, and found a couple of shingle-nails +that Tom said would be handy for a prisoner to scrabble his name and +sorrows on the dungeon walls with, and dropped one of them in Aunt +Sally's apron-pocket which was hanging on a chair, and t'other we stuck +in the band of Uncle Silas's hat, which was on the bureau, because we +heard the children say their pa and ma was going to the runaway nigger's +house this morning, and then went to breakfast, and Tom dropped the +pewter spoon in Uncle Silas's coat-pocket, and Aunt Sally wasn't come +yet, so we had to wait a little while. + +And when she come she was hot and red and cross, and couldn't hardly +wait for the blessing; and then she went to sluicing out coffee with one +hand and cracking the handiest child's head with her thimble with the +other, and says: + +"I've hunted high and I've hunted low, and it does beat all what _has_ +become of your other shirt." + +My heart fell down amongst my lungs and livers and things, and a hard +piece of corn-crust started down my throat after it and got met on the +road with a cough, and was shot across the table, and took one of the +children in the eye and curled him up like a fishing-worm, and let a cry +out of him the size of a warwhoop, and Tom he turned kinder blue around +the gills, and it all amounted to a considerable state of things for +about a quarter of a minute or as much as that, and I would a sold out +for half price if there was a bidder. But after that we was all right +again--it was the sudden surprise of it that knocked us so kind of cold. +Uncle Silas he says: + +"It's most uncommon curious, I can't understand it. I know perfectly +well I took it _off_, because--" + +"Because you hain't got but one _on_. Just _listen_ at the man! I know +you took it off, and know it by a better way than your wool-gethering +memory, too, because it was on the clo's-line yesterday--I see it there +myself. But it's gone, that's the long and the short of it, and you'll +just have to change to a red flann'l one till I can get time to make a +new one. And it 'll be the third I've made in two years. It just keeps +a body on the jump to keep you in shirts; and whatever you do manage to +_do_ with 'm all is more'n I can make out. A body 'd think you _would_ +learn to take some sort of care of 'em at your time of life." + +"I know it, Sally, and I do try all I can. But it oughtn't to be +altogether my fault, because, you know, I don't see them nor have +nothing to do with them except when they're on me; and I don't believe +I've ever lost one of them _off_ of me." + +"Well, it ain't _your_ fault if you haven't, Silas; you'd a done it +if you could, I reckon. And the shirt ain't all that's gone, nuther. + Ther's a spoon gone; and _that_ ain't all. There was ten, and now +ther's only nine. The calf got the shirt, I reckon, but the calf never +took the spoon, _that's_ certain." + +"Why, what else is gone, Sally?" + +"Ther's six _candles_ gone--that's what. The rats could a got the +candles, and I reckon they did; I wonder they don't walk off with the +whole place, the way you're always going to stop their holes and don't +do it; and if they warn't fools they'd sleep in your hair, Silas--_you'd_ +never find it out; but you can't lay the _spoon_ on the rats, and that I +know." + +"Well, Sally, I'm in fault, and I acknowledge it; I've been remiss; but +I won't let to-morrow go by without stopping up them holes." + +"Oh, I wouldn't hurry; next year 'll do. Matilda Angelina Araminta +_Phelps!_" + +Whack comes the thimble, and the child snatches her claws out of the +sugar-bowl without fooling around any. Just then the nigger woman steps +on to the passage, and says: + +"Missus, dey's a sheet gone." + +"A _sheet_ gone! Well, for the land's sake!" + +"I'll stop up them holes to-day," says Uncle Silas, looking sorrowful. + +"Oh, _do_ shet up!--s'pose the rats took the _sheet_? _where's_ it gone, +Lize?" + +"Clah to goodness I hain't no notion, Miss' Sally. She wuz on de +clo'sline yistiddy, but she done gone: she ain' dah no mo' now." + +"I reckon the world _is_ coming to an end. I _never_ see the beat of it +in all my born days. A shirt, and a sheet, and a spoon, and six can--" + +"Missus," comes a young yaller wench, "dey's a brass cannelstick +miss'n." + +"Cler out from here, you hussy, er I'll take a skillet to ye!" + +Well, she was just a-biling. I begun to lay for a chance; I reckoned +I would sneak out and go for the woods till the weather moderated. She +kept a-raging right along, running her insurrection all by herself, and +everybody else mighty meek and quiet; and at last Uncle Silas, looking +kind of foolish, fishes up that spoon out of his pocket. She stopped, +with her mouth open and her hands up; and as for me, I wished I was in +Jeruslem or somewheres. But not long, because she says: + +"It's _just_ as I expected. So you had it in your pocket all the time; +and like as not you've got the other things there, too. How'd it get +there?" + +"I reely don't know, Sally," he says, kind of apologizing, "or you know +I would tell. I was a-studying over my text in Acts Seventeen before +breakfast, and I reckon I put it in there, not noticing, meaning to put +my Testament in, and it must be so, because my Testament ain't in; but +I'll go and see; and if the Testament is where I had it, I'll know I +didn't put it in, and that will show that I laid the Testament down and +took up the spoon, and--" + +"Oh, for the land's sake! Give a body a rest! Go 'long now, the whole +kit and biling of ye; and don't come nigh me again till I've got back my +peace of mind." + +I'D a heard her if she'd a said it to herself, let alone speaking it +out; and I'd a got up and obeyed her if I'd a been dead. As we was +passing through the setting-room the old man he took up his hat, and the +shingle-nail fell out on the floor, and he just merely picked it up and +laid it on the mantel-shelf, and never said nothing, and went out. Tom +see him do it, and remembered about the spoon, and says: + +"Well, it ain't no use to send things by _him_ no more, he ain't +reliable." Then he says: "But he done us a good turn with the spoon, +anyway, without knowing it, and so we'll go and do him one without _him_ +knowing it--stop up his rat-holes." + +There was a noble good lot of them down cellar, and it took us a whole +hour, but we done the job tight and good and shipshape. Then we heard +steps on the stairs, and blowed out our light and hid; and here comes +the old man, with a candle in one hand and a bundle of stuff in t'other, +looking as absent-minded as year before last. He went a mooning around, +first to one rat-hole and then another, till he'd been to them all. + Then he stood about five minutes, picking tallow-drip off of his candle +and thinking. Then he turns off slow and dreamy towards the stairs, +saying: + +"Well, for the life of me I can't remember when I done it. I could +show her now that I warn't to blame on account of the rats. But never +mind--let it go. I reckon it wouldn't do no good." + +And so he went on a-mumbling up stairs, and then we left. He was a +mighty nice old man. And always is. + +Tom was a good deal bothered about what to do for a spoon, but he said +we'd got to have it; so he took a think. When he had ciphered it out +he told me how we was to do; then we went and waited around the +spoon-basket till we see Aunt Sally coming, and then Tom went to +counting the spoons and laying them out to one side, and I slid one of +them up my sleeve, and Tom says: + +"Why, Aunt Sally, there ain't but nine spoons _yet_." + +She says: + +"Go 'long to your play, and don't bother me. I know better, I counted +'m myself." + +"Well, I've counted them twice, Aunty, and I can't make but nine." + +She looked out of all patience, but of course she come to count--anybody +would. + +"I declare to gracious ther' _ain't_ but nine!" she says. "Why, what in +the world--plague _take_ the things, I'll count 'm again." + +So I slipped back the one I had, and when she got done counting, she +says: + +"Hang the troublesome rubbage, ther's _ten_ now!" and she looked huffy +and bothered both. But Tom says: + +"Why, Aunty, I don't think there's ten." + +"You numskull, didn't you see me _count 'm?_" + +"I know, but--" + +"Well, I'll count 'm _again_." + +So I smouched one, and they come out nine, same as the other time. + Well, she _was_ in a tearing way--just a-trembling all over, she was so +mad. But she counted and counted till she got that addled she'd start +to count in the basket for a spoon sometimes; and so, three times they +come out right, and three times they come out wrong. Then she grabbed +up the basket and slammed it across the house and knocked the cat +galley-west; and she said cle'r out and let her have some peace, and if +we come bothering around her again betwixt that and dinner she'd skin +us. So we had the odd spoon, and dropped it in her apron-pocket whilst +she was a-giving us our sailing orders, and Jim got it all right, along +with her shingle nail, before noon. We was very well satisfied with +this business, and Tom allowed it was worth twice the trouble it took, +because he said _now_ she couldn't ever count them spoons twice alike +again to save her life; and wouldn't believe she'd counted them right if +she _did_; and said that after she'd about counted her head off for the +next three days he judged she'd give it up and offer to kill anybody +that wanted her to ever count them any more. + +So we put the sheet back on the line that night, and stole one out of +her closet; and kept on putting it back and stealing it again for a +couple of days till she didn't know how many sheets she had any more, +and she didn't _care_, and warn't a-going to bullyrag the rest of her +soul out about it, and wouldn't count them again not to save her life; +she druther die first. + +So we was all right now, as to the shirt and the sheet and the spoon +and the candles, by the help of the calf and the rats and the mixed-up +counting; and as to the candlestick, it warn't no consequence, it would +blow over by and by. + +But that pie was a job; we had no end of trouble with that pie. We +fixed it up away down in the woods, and cooked it there; and we got it +done at last, and very satisfactory, too; but not all in one day; and we +had to use up three wash-pans full of flour before we got through, and +we got burnt pretty much all over, in places, and eyes put out with +the smoke; because, you see, we didn't want nothing but a crust, and we +couldn't prop it up right, and she would always cave in. But of course +we thought of the right way at last--which was to cook the ladder, too, +in the pie. So then we laid in with Jim the second night, and tore +up the sheet all in little strings and twisted them together, and long +before daylight we had a lovely rope that you could a hung a person +with. We let on it took nine months to make it. + +And in the forenoon we took it down to the woods, but it wouldn't go +into the pie. Being made of a whole sheet, that way, there was rope +enough for forty pies if we'd a wanted them, and plenty left over +for soup, or sausage, or anything you choose. We could a had a whole +dinner. + +But we didn't need it. All we needed was just enough for the pie, and +so we throwed the rest away. We didn't cook none of the pies in the +wash-pan--afraid the solder would melt; but Uncle Silas he had a noble +brass warming-pan which he thought considerable of, because it belonged +to one of his ancesters with a long wooden handle that come over from +England with William the Conqueror in the Mayflower or one of them early +ships and was hid away up garret with a lot of other old pots and things +that was valuable, not on account of being any account, because they +warn't, but on account of them being relicts, you know, and we snaked +her out, private, and took her down there, but she failed on the first +pies, because we didn't know how, but she come up smiling on the last +one. We took and lined her with dough, and set her in the coals, and +loaded her up with rag rope, and put on a dough roof, and shut down the +lid, and put hot embers on top, and stood off five foot, with the long +handle, cool and comfortable, and in fifteen minutes she turned out a +pie that was a satisfaction to look at. But the person that et it would +want to fetch a couple of kags of toothpicks along, for if that rope +ladder wouldn't cramp him down to business I don't know nothing what I'm +talking about, and lay him in enough stomach-ache to last him till next +time, too. + +Nat didn't look when we put the witch pie in Jim's pan; and we put the +three tin plates in the bottom of the pan under the vittles; and so Jim +got everything all right, and as soon as he was by himself he busted +into the pie and hid the rope ladder inside of his straw tick, +and scratched some marks on a tin plate and throwed it out of the +window-hole. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + +MAKING them pens was a distressid tough job, and so was the saw; and Jim +allowed the inscription was going to be the toughest of all. That's the +one which the prisoner has to scrabble on the wall. But he had to have +it; Tom said he'd _got_ to; there warn't no case of a state prisoner not +scrabbling his inscription to leave behind, and his coat of arms. + +"Look at Lady Jane Grey," he says; "look at Gilford Dudley; look at old +Northumberland! Why, Huck, s'pose it _is_ considerble trouble?--what +you going to do?--how you going to get around it? Jim's _got_ to do his +inscription and coat of arms. They all do." + +Jim says: + +"Why, Mars Tom, I hain't got no coat o' arm; I hain't got nuffn but dish +yer ole shirt, en you knows I got to keep de journal on dat." + +"Oh, you don't understand, Jim; a coat of arms is very different." + +"Well," I says, "Jim's right, anyway, when he says he ain't got no coat +of arms, because he hain't." + +"I reckon I knowed that," Tom says, "but you bet he'll have one before +he goes out of this--because he's going out _right_, and there ain't +going to be no flaws in his record." + +So whilst me and Jim filed away at the pens on a brickbat apiece, Jim +a-making his'n out of the brass and I making mine out of the spoon, +Tom set to work to think out the coat of arms. By and by he said he'd +struck so many good ones he didn't hardly know which to take, but there +was one which he reckoned he'd decide on. He says: + +"On the scutcheon we'll have a bend _or_ in the dexter base, a saltire +_murrey_ in the fess, with a dog, couchant, for common charge, and under +his foot a chain embattled, for slavery, with a chevron _vert_ in a +chief engrailed, and three invected lines on a field _azure_, with the +nombril points rampant on a dancette indented; crest, a runaway nigger, +_sable_, with his bundle over his shoulder on a bar sinister; and a +couple of gules for supporters, which is you and me; motto, _Maggiore +Fretta, Minore Otto._ Got it out of a book--means the more haste the +less speed." + +"Geewhillikins," I says, "but what does the rest of it mean?" + +"We ain't got no time to bother over that," he says; "we got to dig in +like all git-out." + +"Well, anyway," I says, "what's _some_ of it? What's a fess?" + +"A fess--a fess is--_you_ don't need to know what a fess is. I'll show +him how to make it when he gets to it." + +"Shucks, Tom," I says, "I think you might tell a person. What's a bar +sinister?" + +"Oh, I don't know. But he's got to have it. All the nobility does." + +That was just his way. If it didn't suit him to explain a thing to you, +he wouldn't do it. You might pump at him a week, it wouldn't make no +difference. + +He'd got all that coat of arms business fixed, so now he started in to +finish up the rest of that part of the work, which was to plan out a +mournful inscription--said Jim got to have one, like they all done. He +made up a lot, and wrote them out on a paper, and read them off, so: + +1. Here a captive heart busted. 2. Here a poor prisoner, forsook by +the world and friends, fretted his sorrowful life. 3. Here a lonely +heart broke, and a worn spirit went to its rest, after thirty-seven +years of solitary captivity. 4. Here, homeless and friendless, after +thirty-seven years of bitter captivity, perished a noble stranger, +natural son of Louis XIV. + +Tom's voice trembled whilst he was reading them, and he most broke down. +When he got done he couldn't no way make up his mind which one for Jim +to scrabble on to the wall, they was all so good; but at last he allowed +he would let him scrabble them all on. Jim said it would take him a +year to scrabble such a lot of truck on to the logs with a nail, and he +didn't know how to make letters, besides; but Tom said he would block +them out for him, and then he wouldn't have nothing to do but just +follow the lines. Then pretty soon he says: + +"Come to think, the logs ain't a-going to do; they don't have log walls +in a dungeon: we got to dig the inscriptions into a rock. We'll fetch +a rock." + +Jim said the rock was worse than the logs; he said it would take him +such a pison long time to dig them into a rock he wouldn't ever get out. + But Tom said he would let me help him do it. Then he took a look to +see how me and Jim was getting along with the pens. It was most pesky +tedious hard work and slow, and didn't give my hands no show to get +well of the sores, and we didn't seem to make no headway, hardly; so Tom +says: + +"I know how to fix it. We got to have a rock for the coat of arms and +mournful inscriptions, and we can kill two birds with that same rock. +There's a gaudy big grindstone down at the mill, and we'll smouch it, +and carve the things on it, and file out the pens and the saw on it, +too." + +It warn't no slouch of an idea; and it warn't no slouch of a grindstone +nuther; but we allowed we'd tackle it. It warn't quite midnight yet, +so we cleared out for the mill, leaving Jim at work. We smouched the +grindstone, and set out to roll her home, but it was a most nation tough +job. Sometimes, do what we could, we couldn't keep her from falling +over, and she come mighty near mashing us every time. Tom said she was +going to get one of us, sure, before we got through. We got her half +way; and then we was plumb played out, and most drownded with sweat. We +see it warn't no use; we got to go and fetch Jim. So he raised up his +bed and slid the chain off of the bed-leg, and wrapt it round and round +his neck, and we crawled out through our hole and down there, and Jim +and me laid into that grindstone and walked her along like nothing; and +Tom superintended. He could out-superintend any boy I ever see. He +knowed how to do everything. + +Our hole was pretty big, but it warn't big enough to get the grindstone +through; but Jim he took the pick and soon made it big enough. Then Tom +marked out them things on it with the nail, and set Jim to work on them, +with the nail for a chisel and an iron bolt from the rubbage in the +lean-to for a hammer, and told him to work till the rest of his candle +quit on him, and then he could go to bed, and hide the grindstone under +his straw tick and sleep on it. Then we helped him fix his chain back +on the bed-leg, and was ready for bed ourselves. But Tom thought of +something, and says: + +"You got any spiders in here, Jim?" + +"No, sah, thanks to goodness I hain't, Mars Tom." + +"All right, we'll get you some." + +"But bless you, honey, I doan' _want_ none. I's afeard un um. I jis' +'s soon have rattlesnakes aroun'." + +Tom thought a minute or two, and says: + +"It's a good idea. And I reckon it's been done. It _must_ a been done; +it stands to reason. Yes, it's a prime good idea. Where could you keep +it?" + +"Keep what, Mars Tom?" + +"Why, a rattlesnake." + +"De goodness gracious alive, Mars Tom! Why, if dey was a rattlesnake to +come in heah I'd take en bust right out thoo dat log wall, I would, wid +my head." + +"Why, Jim, you wouldn't be afraid of it after a little. You could tame +it." + +"_Tame_ it!" + +"Yes--easy enough. Every animal is grateful for kindness and petting, +and they wouldn't _think_ of hurting a person that pets them. Any book +will tell you that. You try--that's all I ask; just try for two or three +days. Why, you can get him so, in a little while, that he'll love you; +and sleep with you; and won't stay away from you a minute; and will let +you wrap him round your neck and put his head in your mouth." + +"_Please_, Mars Tom--_doan_' talk so! I can't _stan_' it! He'd _let_ +me shove his head in my mouf--fer a favor, hain't it? I lay he'd wait a +pow'ful long time 'fo' I _ast_ him. En mo' en dat, I doan' _want_ him +to sleep wid me." + +"Jim, don't act so foolish. A prisoner's _got_ to have some kind of a +dumb pet, and if a rattlesnake hain't ever been tried, why, there's more +glory to be gained in your being the first to ever try it than any other +way you could ever think of to save your life." + +"Why, Mars Tom, I doan' _want_ no sich glory. Snake take 'n bite +Jim's chin off, den _whah_ is de glory? No, sah, I doan' want no sich +doin's." + +"Blame it, can't you _try_? I only _want_ you to try--you needn't keep +it up if it don't work." + +"But de trouble all _done_ ef de snake bite me while I's a tryin' him. +Mars Tom, I's willin' to tackle mos' anything 'at ain't onreasonable, +but ef you en Huck fetches a rattlesnake in heah for me to tame, I's +gwyne to _leave_, dat's _shore_." + +"Well, then, let it go, let it go, if you're so bull-headed about it. + We can get you some garter-snakes, and you can tie some buttons on +their tails, and let on they're rattlesnakes, and I reckon that 'll have +to do." + +"I k'n stan' _dem_, Mars Tom, but blame' 'f I couldn' get along widout +um, I tell you dat. I never knowed b'fo' 't was so much bother and +trouble to be a prisoner." + +"Well, it _always_ is when it's done right. You got any rats around +here?" + +"No, sah, I hain't seed none." + +"Well, we'll get you some rats." + +"Why, Mars Tom, I doan' _want_ no rats. Dey's de dadblamedest creturs +to 'sturb a body, en rustle roun' over 'im, en bite his feet, when he's +tryin' to sleep, I ever see. No, sah, gimme g'yarter-snakes, 'f I's +got to have 'm, but doan' gimme no rats; I hain' got no use f'r um, +skasely." + +"But, Jim, you _got_ to have 'em--they all do. So don't make no more +fuss about it. Prisoners ain't ever without rats. There ain't no +instance of it. And they train them, and pet them, and learn them +tricks, and they get to be as sociable as flies. But you got to play +music to them. You got anything to play music on?" + +"I ain' got nuffn but a coase comb en a piece o' paper, en a juice-harp; +but I reck'n dey wouldn' take no stock in a juice-harp." + +"Yes they would _they_ don't care what kind of music 'tis. A +jews-harp's plenty good enough for a rat. All animals like music--in a +prison they dote on it. Specially, painful music; and you can't get no +other kind out of a jews-harp. It always interests them; they come out +to see what's the matter with you. Yes, you're all right; you're fixed +very well. You want to set on your bed nights before you go to sleep, +and early in the mornings, and play your jews-harp; play 'The Last Link +is Broken'--that's the thing that 'll scoop a rat quicker 'n anything +else; and when you've played about two minutes you'll see all the rats, +and the snakes, and spiders, and things begin to feel worried about you, +and come. And they'll just fairly swarm over you, and have a noble good +time." + +"Yes, _dey_ will, I reck'n, Mars Tom, but what kine er time is _Jim_ +havin'? Blest if I kin see de pint. But I'll do it ef I got to. I +reck'n I better keep de animals satisfied, en not have no trouble in de +house." + +Tom waited to think it over, and see if there wasn't nothing else; and +pretty soon he says: + +"Oh, there's one thing I forgot. Could you raise a flower here, do you +reckon?" + +"I doan know but maybe I could, Mars Tom; but it's tolable dark in heah, +en I ain' got no use f'r no flower, nohow, en she'd be a pow'ful sight +o' trouble." + +"Well, you try it, anyway. Some other prisoners has done it." + +"One er dem big cat-tail-lookin' mullen-stalks would grow in heah, Mars +Tom, I reck'n, but she wouldn't be wuth half de trouble she'd coss." + +"Don't you believe it. We'll fetch you a little one and you plant it in +the corner over there, and raise it. And don't call it mullen, call it +Pitchiola--that's its right name when it's in a prison. And you want to +water it with your tears." + +"Why, I got plenty spring water, Mars Tom." + +"You don't _want_ spring water; you want to water it with your tears. + It's the way they always do." + +"Why, Mars Tom, I lay I kin raise one er dem mullen-stalks twyste wid +spring water whiles another man's a _start'n_ one wid tears." + +"That ain't the idea. You _got_ to do it with tears." + +"She'll die on my han's, Mars Tom, she sholy will; kase I doan' skasely +ever cry." + +So Tom was stumped. But he studied it over, and then said Jim would +have to worry along the best he could with an onion. He promised +he would go to the nigger cabins and drop one, private, in Jim's +coffee-pot, in the morning. Jim said he would "jis' 's soon have +tobacker in his coffee;" and found so much fault with it, and with the +work and bother of raising the mullen, and jews-harping the rats, and +petting and flattering up the snakes and spiders and things, on top of +all the other work he had to do on pens, and inscriptions, and journals, +and things, which made it more trouble and worry and responsibility to +be a prisoner than anything he ever undertook, that Tom most lost all +patience with him; and said he was just loadened down with more gaudier +chances than a prisoner ever had in the world to make a name for +himself, and yet he didn't know enough to appreciate them, and they was +just about wasted on him. So Jim he was sorry, and said he wouldn't +behave so no more, and then me and Tom shoved for bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + +IN the morning we went up to the village and bought a wire rat-trap and +fetched it down, and unstopped the best rat-hole, and in about an hour +we had fifteen of the bulliest kind of ones; and then we took it and put +it in a safe place under Aunt Sally's bed. But while we was gone for +spiders little Thomas Franklin Benjamin Jefferson Elexander Phelps found +it there, and opened the door of it to see if the rats would come out, +and they did; and Aunt Sally she come in, and when we got back she was +a-standing on top of the bed raising Cain, and the rats was doing what +they could to keep off the dull times for her. So she took and dusted +us both with the hickry, and we was as much as two hours catching +another fifteen or sixteen, drat that meddlesome cub, and they warn't +the likeliest, nuther, because the first haul was the pick of the flock. + I never see a likelier lot of rats than what that first haul was. + +We got a splendid stock of sorted spiders, and bugs, and frogs, and +caterpillars, and one thing or another; and we like to got a hornet's +nest, but we didn't. The family was at home. We didn't give it right +up, but stayed with them as long as we could; because we allowed we'd +tire them out or they'd got to tire us out, and they done it. Then we +got allycumpain and rubbed on the places, and was pretty near all right +again, but couldn't set down convenient. And so we went for the snakes, +and grabbed a couple of dozen garters and house-snakes, and put them in +a bag, and put it in our room, and by that time it was supper-time, and +a rattling good honest day's work: and hungry?--oh, no, I reckon not! + And there warn't a blessed snake up there when we went back--we didn't +half tie the sack, and they worked out somehow, and left. But it didn't +matter much, because they was still on the premises somewheres. So +we judged we could get some of them again. No, there warn't no real +scarcity of snakes about the house for a considerable spell. You'd see +them dripping from the rafters and places every now and then; and they +generly landed in your plate, or down the back of your neck, and most +of the time where you didn't want them. Well, they was handsome and +striped, and there warn't no harm in a million of them; but that never +made no difference to Aunt Sally; she despised snakes, be the breed what +they might, and she couldn't stand them no way you could fix it; and +every time one of them flopped down on her, it didn't make no difference +what she was doing, she would just lay that work down and light out. I +never see such a woman. And you could hear her whoop to Jericho. You +couldn't get her to take a-holt of one of them with the tongs. And if +she turned over and found one in bed she would scramble out and lift a +howl that you would think the house was afire. She disturbed the old +man so that he said he could most wish there hadn't ever been no snakes +created. Why, after every last snake had been gone clear out of the +house for as much as a week Aunt Sally warn't over it yet; she warn't +near over it; when she was setting thinking about something you could +touch her on the back of her neck with a feather and she would jump +right out of her stockings. It was very curious. But Tom said all +women was just so. He said they was made that way for some reason or +other. + +We got a licking every time one of our snakes come in her way, and she +allowed these lickings warn't nothing to what she would do if we ever +loaded up the place again with them. I didn't mind the lickings, +because they didn't amount to nothing; but I minded the trouble we +had to lay in another lot. But we got them laid in, and all the other +things; and you never see a cabin as blithesome as Jim's was when they'd +all swarm out for music and go for him. Jim didn't like the spiders, +and the spiders didn't like Jim; and so they'd lay for him, and make it +mighty warm for him. And he said that between the rats and the snakes +and the grindstone there warn't no room in bed for him, skasely; and +when there was, a body couldn't sleep, it was so lively, and it was +always lively, he said, because _they_ never all slept at one time, but +took turn about, so when the snakes was asleep the rats was on deck, and +when the rats turned in the snakes come on watch, so he always had one +gang under him, in his way, and t'other gang having a circus over him, +and if he got up to hunt a new place the spiders would take a chance at +him as he crossed over. He said if he ever got out this time he wouldn't +ever be a prisoner again, not for a salary. + +Well, by the end of three weeks everything was in pretty good shape. + The shirt was sent in early, in a pie, and every time a rat bit Jim he +would get up and write a little in his journal whilst the ink was fresh; +the pens was made, the inscriptions and so on was all carved on the +grindstone; the bed-leg was sawed in two, and we had et up the sawdust, +and it give us a most amazing stomach-ache. We reckoned we was all +going to die, but didn't. It was the most undigestible sawdust I ever +see; and Tom said the same. + +But as I was saying, we'd got all the work done now, at last; and we was +all pretty much fagged out, too, but mainly Jim. The old man had wrote +a couple of times to the plantation below Orleans to come and get their +runaway nigger, but hadn't got no answer, because there warn't no such +plantation; so he allowed he would advertise Jim in the St. Louis and +New Orleans papers; and when he mentioned the St. Louis ones it give me +the cold shivers, and I see we hadn't no time to lose. So Tom said, now +for the nonnamous letters. + +"What's them?" I says. + +"Warnings to the people that something is up. Sometimes it's done one +way, sometimes another. But there's always somebody spying around that +gives notice to the governor of the castle. When Louis XVI. was going +to light out of the Tooleries, a servant-girl done it. It's a very good +way, and so is the nonnamous letters. We'll use them both. And it's +usual for the prisoner's mother to change clothes with him, and she +stays in, and he slides out in her clothes. We'll do that, too." + +"But looky here, Tom, what do we want to _warn_ anybody for that +something's up? Let them find it out for themselves--it's their +lookout." + +"Yes, I know; but you can't depend on them. It's the way they've acted +from the very start--left us to do _everything_. They're so confiding +and mullet-headed they don't take notice of nothing at all. So if we +don't _give_ them notice there won't be nobody nor nothing to interfere +with us, and so after all our hard work and trouble this escape 'll go +off perfectly flat; won't amount to nothing--won't be nothing _to_ it." + +"Well, as for me, Tom, that's the way I'd like." + +"Shucks!" he says, and looked disgusted. So I says: + +"But I ain't going to make no complaint. Any way that suits you suits +me. What you going to do about the servant-girl?" + +"You'll be her. You slide in, in the middle of the night, and hook that +yaller girl's frock." + +"Why, Tom, that 'll make trouble next morning; because, of course, she +prob'bly hain't got any but that one." + +"I know; but you don't want it but fifteen minutes, to carry the +nonnamous letter and shove it under the front door." + +"All right, then, I'll do it; but I could carry it just as handy in my +own togs." + +"You wouldn't look like a servant-girl _then_, would you?" + +"No, but there won't be nobody to see what I look like, _anyway_." + +"That ain't got nothing to do with it. The thing for us to do is just +to do our _duty_, and not worry about whether anybody _sees_ us do it or +not. Hain't you got no principle at all?" + +"All right, I ain't saying nothing; I'm the servant-girl. Who's Jim's +mother?" + +"I'm his mother. I'll hook a gown from Aunt Sally." + +"Well, then, you'll have to stay in the cabin when me and Jim leaves." + +"Not much. I'll stuff Jim's clothes full of straw and lay it on his bed +to represent his mother in disguise, and Jim 'll take the nigger woman's +gown off of me and wear it, and we'll all evade together. When a +prisoner of style escapes it's called an evasion. It's always called +so when a king escapes, f'rinstance. And the same with a king's son; +it don't make no difference whether he's a natural one or an unnatural +one." + +So Tom he wrote the nonnamous letter, and I smouched the yaller wench's +frock that night, and put it on, and shoved it under the front door, the +way Tom told me to. It said: + +Beware. Trouble is brewing. Keep a sharp lookout. _Unknown_ _Friend_. + +Next night we stuck a picture, which Tom drawed in blood, of a skull and +crossbones on the front door; and next night another one of a coffin on +the back door. I never see a family in such a sweat. They couldn't a +been worse scared if the place had a been full of ghosts laying for them +behind everything and under the beds and shivering through the air. If +a door banged, Aunt Sally she jumped and said "ouch!" if anything fell, +she jumped and said "ouch!" if you happened to touch her, when she +warn't noticing, she done the same; she couldn't face noway and be +satisfied, because she allowed there was something behind her every +time--so she was always a-whirling around sudden, and saying "ouch," and +before she'd got two-thirds around she'd whirl back again, and say it +again; and she was afraid to go to bed, but she dasn't set up. So the +thing was working very well, Tom said; he said he never see a thing work +more satisfactory. He said it showed it was done right. + +So he said, now for the grand bulge! So the very next morning at the +streak of dawn we got another letter ready, and was wondering what we +better do with it, because we heard them say at supper they was going +to have a nigger on watch at both doors all night. Tom he went down the +lightning-rod to spy around; and the nigger at the back door was asleep, +and he stuck it in the back of his neck and come back. This letter +said: + +Don't betray me, I wish to be your friend. There is a desprate gang of +cutthroats from over in the Indian Territory going to steal your runaway +nigger to-night, and they have been trying to scare you so as you will +stay in the house and not bother them. I am one of the gang, but have +got religgion and wish to quit it and lead an honest life again, and +will betray the helish design. They will sneak down from northards, +along the fence, at midnight exact, with a false key, and go in the +nigger's cabin to get him. I am to be off a piece and blow a tin horn +if I see any danger; but stead of that I will _baa_ like a sheep soon as +they get in and not blow at all; then whilst they are getting his +chains loose, you slip there and lock them in, and can kill them at your +leasure. Don't do anything but just the way I am telling you, if you do +they will suspicion something and raise whoop-jamboreehoo. I do not wish +any reward but to know I have done the right thing. _Unknown Friend._ + + + + +CHAPTER XL. + +WE was feeling pretty good after breakfast, and took my canoe and went +over the river a-fishing, with a lunch, and had a good time, and took a +look at the raft and found her all right, and got home late to supper, +and found them in such a sweat and worry they didn't know which end they +was standing on, and made us go right off to bed the minute we was done +supper, and wouldn't tell us what the trouble was, and never let on a +word about the new letter, but didn't need to, because we knowed as much +about it as anybody did, and as soon as we was half up stairs and her +back was turned we slid for the cellar cupboard and loaded up a good +lunch and took it up to our room and went to bed, and got up about +half-past eleven, and Tom put on Aunt Sally's dress that he stole and +was going to start with the lunch, but says: + +"Where's the butter?" + +"I laid out a hunk of it," I says, "on a piece of a corn-pone." + +"Well, you _left_ it laid out, then--it ain't here." + +"We can get along without it," I says. + +"We can get along _with_ it, too," he says; "just you slide down cellar +and fetch it. And then mosey right down the lightning-rod and come +along. I'll go and stuff the straw into Jim's clothes to represent his +mother in disguise, and be ready to _baa_ like a sheep and shove soon as +you get there." + +So out he went, and down cellar went I. The hunk of butter, big as +a person's fist, was where I had left it, so I took up the slab of +corn-pone with it on, and blowed out my light, and started up stairs +very stealthy, and got up to the main floor all right, but here comes +Aunt Sally with a candle, and I clapped the truck in my hat, and clapped +my hat on my head, and the next second she see me; and she says: + +"You been down cellar?" + +"Yes'm." + +"What you been doing down there?" + +"Noth'n." + +"_Noth'n!_" + +"No'm." + +"Well, then, what possessed you to go down there this time of night?" + +"I don't know 'm." + +"You don't _know_? Don't answer me that way. Tom, I want to know what +you been _doing_ down there." + +"I hain't been doing a single thing, Aunt Sally, I hope to gracious if I +have." + +I reckoned she'd let me go now, and as a generl thing she would; but I +s'pose there was so many strange things going on she was just in a sweat +about every little thing that warn't yard-stick straight; so she says, +very decided: + +"You just march into that setting-room and stay there till I come. You +been up to something you no business to, and I lay I'll find out what it +is before I'M done with you." + +So she went away as I opened the door and walked into the setting-room. +My, but there was a crowd there! Fifteen farmers, and every one of them +had a gun. I was most powerful sick, and slunk to a chair and set down. +They was setting around, some of them talking a little, in a low voice, +and all of them fidgety and uneasy, but trying to look like they warn't; +but I knowed they was, because they was always taking off their hats, +and putting them on, and scratching their heads, and changing their +seats, and fumbling with their buttons. I warn't easy myself, but I +didn't take my hat off, all the same. + +I did wish Aunt Sally would come, and get done with me, and lick me, if +she wanted to, and let me get away and tell Tom how we'd overdone this +thing, and what a thundering hornet's-nest we'd got ourselves into, so +we could stop fooling around straight off, and clear out with Jim before +these rips got out of patience and come for us. + +At last she come and begun to ask me questions, but I _couldn't_ answer +them straight, I didn't know which end of me was up; because these men +was in such a fidget now that some was wanting to start right NOW and +lay for them desperadoes, and saying it warn't but a few minutes to +midnight; and others was trying to get them to hold on and wait for the +sheep-signal; and here was Aunty pegging away at the questions, and +me a-shaking all over and ready to sink down in my tracks I was +that scared; and the place getting hotter and hotter, and the butter +beginning to melt and run down my neck and behind my ears; and pretty +soon, when one of them says, "I'M for going and getting in the cabin +_first_ and right _now_, and catching them when they come," I most +dropped; and a streak of butter come a-trickling down my forehead, and +Aunt Sally she see it, and turns white as a sheet, and says: + +"For the land's sake, what _is_ the matter with the child? He's got the +brain-fever as shore as you're born, and they're oozing out!" + +And everybody runs to see, and she snatches off my hat, and out comes +the bread and what was left of the butter, and she grabbed me, and +hugged me, and says: + +"Oh, what a turn you did give me! and how glad and grateful I am it +ain't no worse; for luck's against us, and it never rains but it pours, +and when I see that truck I thought we'd lost you, for I knowed by +the color and all it was just like your brains would be if--Dear, +dear, whyd'nt you _tell_ me that was what you'd been down there for, I +wouldn't a cared. Now cler out to bed, and don't lemme see no more of +you till morning!" + +I was up stairs in a second, and down the lightning-rod in another one, +and shinning through the dark for the lean-to. I couldn't hardly get my +words out, I was so anxious; but I told Tom as quick as I could we must +jump for it now, and not a minute to lose--the house full of men, yonder, +with guns! + +His eyes just blazed; and he says: + +"No!--is that so? _ain't_ it bully! Why, Huck, if it was to do over +again, I bet I could fetch two hundred! If we could put it off till--" + +"Hurry! _Hurry_!" I says. "Where's Jim?" + +"Right at your elbow; if you reach out your arm you can touch him. + He's dressed, and everything's ready. Now we'll slide out and give the +sheep-signal." + +But then we heard the tramp of men coming to the door, and heard them +begin to fumble with the pad-lock, and heard a man say: + +"I _told_ you we'd be too soon; they haven't come--the door is locked. +Here, I'll lock some of you into the cabin, and you lay for 'em in the +dark and kill 'em when they come; and the rest scatter around a piece, +and listen if you can hear 'em coming." + +So in they come, but couldn't see us in the dark, and most trod on +us whilst we was hustling to get under the bed. But we got under all +right, and out through the hole, swift but soft--Jim first, me next, +and Tom last, which was according to Tom's orders. Now we was in the +lean-to, and heard trampings close by outside. So we crept to the door, +and Tom stopped us there and put his eye to the crack, but couldn't make +out nothing, it was so dark; and whispered and said he would listen +for the steps to get further, and when he nudged us Jim must glide out +first, and him last. So he set his ear to the crack and listened, and +listened, and listened, and the steps a-scraping around out there all +the time; and at last he nudged us, and we slid out, and stooped down, +not breathing, and not making the least noise, and slipped stealthy +towards the fence in Injun file, and got to it all right, and me and Jim +over it; but Tom's britches catched fast on a splinter on the top +rail, and then he hear the steps coming, so he had to pull loose, which +snapped the splinter and made a noise; and as he dropped in our tracks +and started somebody sings out: + +"Who's that? Answer, or I'll shoot!" + +But we didn't answer; we just unfurled our heels and shoved. Then there +was a rush, and a _Bang, Bang, Bang!_ and the bullets fairly whizzed +around us! We heard them sing out: + +"Here they are! They've broke for the river! After 'em, boys, and turn +loose the dogs!" + +So here they come, full tilt. We could hear them because they wore +boots and yelled, but we didn't wear no boots and didn't yell. We was +in the path to the mill; and when they got pretty close on to us we +dodged into the bush and let them go by, and then dropped in behind +them. They'd had all the dogs shut up, so they wouldn't scare off the +robbers; but by this time somebody had let them loose, and here they +come, making powwow enough for a million; but they was our dogs; so we +stopped in our tracks till they catched up; and when they see it warn't +nobody but us, and no excitement to offer them, they only just said +howdy, and tore right ahead towards the shouting and clattering; and +then we up-steam again, and whizzed along after them till we was nearly +to the mill, and then struck up through the bush to where my canoe was +tied, and hopped in and pulled for dear life towards the middle of the +river, but didn't make no more noise than we was obleeged to. Then we +struck out, easy and comfortable, for the island where my raft was; and +we could hear them yelling and barking at each other all up and down the +bank, till we was so far away the sounds got dim and died out. And when +we stepped on to the raft I says: + +"_Now_, old Jim, you're a free man again, and I bet you won't ever be a +slave no more." + +"En a mighty good job it wuz, too, Huck. It 'uz planned beautiful, en +it 'uz done beautiful; en dey ain't _nobody_ kin git up a plan dat's mo' +mixed-up en splendid den what dat one wuz." + +We was all glad as we could be, but Tom was the gladdest of all because +he had a bullet in the calf of his leg. + +When me and Jim heard that we didn't feel so brash as what we did +before. It was hurting him considerable, and bleeding; so we laid him in +the wigwam and tore up one of the duke's shirts for to bandage him, but +he says: + +"Gimme the rags; I can do it myself. Don't stop now; don't fool around +here, and the evasion booming along so handsome; man the sweeps, and set +her loose! Boys, we done it elegant!--'deed we did. I wish _we'd_ a +had the handling of Louis XVI., there wouldn't a been no 'Son of Saint +Louis, ascend to heaven!' wrote down in _his_ biography; no, sir, we'd +a whooped him over the _border_--that's what we'd a done with _him_--and +done it just as slick as nothing at all, too. Man the sweeps--man the +sweeps!" + +But me and Jim was consulting--and thinking. And after we'd thought a +minute, I says: + +"Say it, Jim." + +So he says: + +"Well, den, dis is de way it look to me, Huck. Ef it wuz _him_ dat 'uz +bein' sot free, en one er de boys wuz to git shot, would he say, 'Go on +en save me, nemmine 'bout a doctor f'r to save dis one?' Is dat like +Mars Tom Sawyer? Would he say dat? You _bet_ he wouldn't! _well_, +den, is _Jim_ gywne to say it? No, sah--I doan' budge a step out'n dis +place 'dout a _doctor_, not if it's forty year!" + +I knowed he was white inside, and I reckoned he'd say what he did say--so +it was all right now, and I told Tom I was a-going for a doctor. + He raised considerable row about it, but me and Jim stuck to it and +wouldn't budge; so he was for crawling out and setting the raft loose +himself; but we wouldn't let him. Then he give us a piece of his mind, +but it didn't do no good. + +So when he sees me getting the canoe ready, he says: + +"Well, then, if you're bound to go, I'll tell you the way to do when you +get to the village. Shut the door and blindfold the doctor tight and +fast, and make him swear to be silent as the grave, and put a purse +full of gold in his hand, and then take and lead him all around the +back alleys and everywheres in the dark, and then fetch him here in the +canoe, in a roundabout way amongst the islands, and search him and take +his chalk away from him, and don't give it back to him till you get him +back to the village, or else he will chalk this raft so he can find it +again. It's the way they all do." + +So I said I would, and left, and Jim was to hide in the woods when he +see the doctor coming till he was gone again. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. + +THE doctor was an old man; a very nice, kind-looking old man when I got +him up. I told him me and my brother was over on Spanish Island hunting +yesterday afternoon, and camped on a piece of a raft we found, and about +midnight he must a kicked his gun in his dreams, for it went off and +shot him in the leg, and we wanted him to go over there and fix it and +not say nothing about it, nor let anybody know, because we wanted to +come home this evening and surprise the folks. + +"Who is your folks?" he says. + +"The Phelpses, down yonder." + +"Oh," he says. And after a minute, he says: + +"How'd you say he got shot?" + +"He had a dream," I says, "and it shot him." + +"Singular dream," he says. + +So he lit up his lantern, and got his saddle-bags, and we started. But +when he sees the canoe he didn't like the look of her--said she was big +enough for one, but didn't look pretty safe for two. I says: + +"Oh, you needn't be afeard, sir, she carried the three of us easy +enough." + +"What three?" + +"Why, me and Sid, and--and--and _the guns_; that's what I mean." + +"Oh," he says. + +But he put his foot on the gunnel and rocked her, and shook his head, +and said he reckoned he'd look around for a bigger one. But they was +all locked and chained; so he took my canoe, and said for me to wait +till he come back, or I could hunt around further, or maybe I better +go down home and get them ready for the surprise if I wanted to. But +I said I didn't; so I told him just how to find the raft, and then he +started. + +I struck an idea pretty soon. I says to myself, spos'n he can't fix +that leg just in three shakes of a sheep's tail, as the saying is? +spos'n it takes him three or four days? What are we going to do?--lay +around there till he lets the cat out of the bag? No, sir; I know what +_I'll_ do. I'll wait, and when he comes back if he says he's got to +go any more I'll get down there, too, if I swim; and we'll take and tie +him, and keep him, and shove out down the river; and when Tom's done +with him we'll give him what it's worth, or all we got, and then let him +get ashore. + +So then I crept into a lumber-pile to get some sleep; and next time I +waked up the sun was away up over my head! I shot out and went for the +doctor's house, but they told me he'd gone away in the night some time +or other, and warn't back yet. Well, thinks I, that looks powerful bad +for Tom, and I'll dig out for the island right off. So away I shoved, +and turned the corner, and nearly rammed my head into Uncle Silas's +stomach! He says: + +"Why, _Tom!_ Where you been all this time, you rascal?" + +"I hain't been nowheres," I says, "only just hunting for the runaway +nigger--me and Sid." + +"Why, where ever did you go?" he says. "Your aunt's been mighty +uneasy." + +"She needn't," I says, "because we was all right. We followed the men +and the dogs, but they outrun us, and we lost them; but we thought we +heard them on the water, so we got a canoe and took out after them and +crossed over, but couldn't find nothing of them; so we cruised along +up-shore till we got kind of tired and beat out; and tied up the canoe +and went to sleep, and never waked up till about an hour ago; then we +paddled over here to hear the news, and Sid's at the post-office to see +what he can hear, and I'm a-branching out to get something to eat for +us, and then we're going home." + +So then we went to the post-office to get "Sid"; but just as I +suspicioned, he warn't there; so the old man he got a letter out of the +office, and we waited awhile longer, but Sid didn't come; so the old man +said, come along, let Sid foot it home, or canoe it, when he got done +fooling around--but we would ride. I couldn't get him to let me stay +and wait for Sid; and he said there warn't no use in it, and I must come +along, and let Aunt Sally see we was all right. + +When we got home Aunt Sally was that glad to see me she laughed and +cried both, and hugged me, and give me one of them lickings of hern that +don't amount to shucks, and said she'd serve Sid the same when he come. + +And the place was plum full of farmers and farmers' wives, to dinner; +and such another clack a body never heard. Old Mrs. Hotchkiss was the +worst; her tongue was a-going all the time. She says: + +"Well, Sister Phelps, I've ransacked that-air cabin over, an' I b'lieve +the nigger was crazy. I says to Sister Damrell--didn't I, Sister +Damrell?--s'I, he's crazy, s'I--them's the very words I said. You all +hearn me: he's crazy, s'I; everything shows it, s'I. Look at that-air +grindstone, s'I; want to tell _me_'t any cretur 't's in his right mind +'s a goin' to scrabble all them crazy things onto a grindstone, s'I? + Here sich 'n' sich a person busted his heart; 'n' here so 'n' so +pegged along for thirty-seven year, 'n' all that--natcherl son o' Louis +somebody, 'n' sich everlast'n rubbage. He's plumb crazy, s'I; it's what +I says in the fust place, it's what I says in the middle, 'n' it's what +I says last 'n' all the time--the nigger's crazy--crazy 's Nebokoodneezer, +s'I." + +"An' look at that-air ladder made out'n rags, Sister Hotchkiss," says +old Mrs. Damrell; "what in the name o' goodness _could_ he ever want +of--" + +"The very words I was a-sayin' no longer ago th'n this minute to Sister +Utterback, 'n' she'll tell you so herself. Sh-she, look at that-air rag +ladder, sh-she; 'n' s'I, yes, _look_ at it, s'I--what _could_ he a-wanted +of it, s'I. Sh-she, Sister Hotchkiss, sh-she--" + +"But how in the nation'd they ever _git_ that grindstone _in_ there, +_anyway_? 'n' who dug that-air _hole_? 'n' who--" + +"My very _words_, Brer Penrod! I was a-sayin'--pass that-air sasser o' +m'lasses, won't ye?--I was a-sayin' to Sister Dunlap, jist this minute, +how _did_ they git that grindstone in there, s'I. Without _help_, mind +you--'thout _help_! _that's_ wher 'tis. Don't tell _me_, s'I; there +_wuz_ help, s'I; 'n' ther' wuz a _plenty_ help, too, s'I; ther's ben a +_dozen_ a-helpin' that nigger, 'n' I lay I'd skin every last nigger on +this place but _I'd_ find out who done it, s'I; 'n' moreover, s'I--" + +"A _dozen_ says you!--_forty_ couldn't a done every thing that's been +done. Look at them case-knife saws and things, how tedious they've been +made; look at that bed-leg sawed off with 'm, a week's work for six men; +look at that nigger made out'n straw on the bed; and look at--" + +"You may _well_ say it, Brer Hightower! It's jist as I was a-sayin' +to Brer Phelps, his own self. S'e, what do _you_ think of it, Sister +Hotchkiss, s'e? Think o' what, Brer Phelps, s'I? Think o' that bed-leg +sawed off that a way, s'e? _think_ of it, s'I? I lay it never sawed +_itself_ off, s'I--somebody _sawed_ it, s'I; that's my opinion, take it +or leave it, it mayn't be no 'count, s'I, but sich as 't is, it's my +opinion, s'I, 'n' if any body k'n start a better one, s'I, let him _do_ +it, s'I, that's all. I says to Sister Dunlap, s'I--" + +"Why, dog my cats, they must a ben a house-full o' niggers in there +every night for four weeks to a done all that work, Sister Phelps. Look +at that shirt--every last inch of it kivered over with secret African +writ'n done with blood! Must a ben a raft uv 'm at it right along, all +the time, amost. Why, I'd give two dollars to have it read to me; 'n' +as for the niggers that wrote it, I 'low I'd take 'n' lash 'm t'll--" + +"People to _help_ him, Brother Marples! Well, I reckon you'd _think_ +so if you'd a been in this house for a while back. Why, they've stole +everything they could lay their hands on--and we a-watching all the time, +mind you. They stole that shirt right off o' the line! and as for that +sheet they made the rag ladder out of, ther' ain't no telling how +many times they _didn't_ steal that; and flour, and candles, and +candlesticks, and spoons, and the old warming-pan, and most a thousand +things that I disremember now, and my new calico dress; and me and +Silas and my Sid and Tom on the constant watch day _and_ night, as I was +a-telling you, and not a one of us could catch hide nor hair nor sight +nor sound of them; and here at the last minute, lo and behold you, they +slides right in under our noses and fools us, and not only fools _us_ +but the Injun Territory robbers too, and actuly gets _away_ with that +nigger safe and sound, and that with sixteen men and twenty-two dogs +right on their very heels at that very time! I tell you, it just bangs +anything I ever _heard_ of. Why, _sperits_ couldn't a done better and +been no smarter. And I reckon they must a _been_ sperits--because, _you_ +know our dogs, and ther' ain't no better; well, them dogs never even got +on the _track_ of 'm once! You explain _that_ to me if you can!--_any_ +of you!" + +"Well, it does beat--" + +"Laws alive, I never--" + +"So help me, I wouldn't a be--" + +"_House_-thieves as well as--" + +"Goodnessgracioussakes, I'd a ben afeard to live in sich a--" + +"'Fraid to _live_!--why, I was that scared I dasn't hardly go to bed, or +get up, or lay down, or _set_ down, Sister Ridgeway. Why, they'd steal +the very--why, goodness sakes, you can guess what kind of a fluster I was +in by the time midnight come last night. I hope to gracious if I warn't +afraid they'd steal some o' the family! I was just to that pass I +didn't have no reasoning faculties no more. It looks foolish enough +_now_, in the daytime; but I says to myself, there's my two poor boys +asleep, 'way up stairs in that lonesome room, and I declare to goodness +I was that uneasy 't I crep' up there and locked 'em in! I _did_. And +anybody would. Because, you know, when you get scared that way, and it +keeps running on, and getting worse and worse all the time, and your +wits gets to addling, and you get to doing all sorts o' wild things, +and by and by you think to yourself, spos'n I was a boy, and was away up +there, and the door ain't locked, and you--" She stopped, looking kind +of wondering, and then she turned her head around slow, and when her eye +lit on me--I got up and took a walk. + +Says I to myself, I can explain better how we come to not be in that +room this morning if I go out to one side and study over it a little. + So I done it. But I dasn't go fur, or she'd a sent for me. And when +it was late in the day the people all went, and then I come in and +told her the noise and shooting waked up me and "Sid," and the door was +locked, and we wanted to see the fun, so we went down the lightning-rod, +and both of us got hurt a little, and we didn't never want to try _that_ +no more. And then I went on and told her all what I told Uncle Silas +before; and then she said she'd forgive us, and maybe it was all right +enough anyway, and about what a body might expect of boys, for all boys +was a pretty harum-scarum lot as fur as she could see; and so, as long +as no harm hadn't come of it, she judged she better put in her time +being grateful we was alive and well and she had us still, stead of +fretting over what was past and done. So then she kissed me, and patted +me on the head, and dropped into a kind of a brown study; and pretty +soon jumps up, and says: + +"Why, lawsamercy, it's most night, and Sid not come yet! What _has_ +become of that boy?" + +I see my chance; so I skips up and says: + +"I'll run right up to town and get him," I says. + +"No you won't," she says. "You'll stay right wher' you are; _one's_ +enough to be lost at a time. If he ain't here to supper, your uncle 'll +go." + +Well, he warn't there to supper; so right after supper uncle went. + +He come back about ten a little bit uneasy; hadn't run across Tom's +track. Aunt Sally was a good _deal_ uneasy; but Uncle Silas he said +there warn't no occasion to be--boys will be boys, he said, and you'll +see this one turn up in the morning all sound and right. So she had +to be satisfied. But she said she'd set up for him a while anyway, and +keep a light burning so he could see it. + +And then when I went up to bed she come up with me and fetched her +candle, and tucked me in, and mothered me so good I felt mean, and like +I couldn't look her in the face; and she set down on the bed and talked +with me a long time, and said what a splendid boy Sid was, and didn't +seem to want to ever stop talking about him; and kept asking me every +now and then if I reckoned he could a got lost, or hurt, or maybe +drownded, and might be laying at this minute somewheres suffering or +dead, and she not by him to help him, and so the tears would drip down +silent, and I would tell her that Sid was all right, and would be home +in the morning, sure; and she would squeeze my hand, or maybe kiss me, +and tell me to say it again, and keep on saying it, because it done her +good, and she was in so much trouble. And when she was going away she +looked down in my eyes so steady and gentle, and says: + +"The door ain't going to be locked, Tom, and there's the window and +the rod; but you'll be good, _won't_ you? And you won't go? For _my_ +sake." + +Laws knows I _wanted_ to go bad enough to see about Tom, and was all +intending to go; but after that I wouldn't a went, not for kingdoms. + +But she was on my mind and Tom was on my mind, so I slept very restless. +And twice I went down the rod away in the night, and slipped around +front, and see her setting there by her candle in the window with her +eyes towards the road and the tears in them; and I wished I could do +something for her, but I couldn't, only to swear that I wouldn't never +do nothing to grieve her any more. And the third time I waked up at +dawn, and slid down, and she was there yet, and her candle was most out, +and her old gray head was resting on her hand, and she was asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII. + +THE old man was uptown again before breakfast, but couldn't get no +track of Tom; and both of them set at the table thinking, and not saying +nothing, and looking mournful, and their coffee getting cold, and not +eating anything. And by and by the old man says: + +"Did I give you the letter?" + +"What letter?" + +"The one I got yesterday out of the post-office." + +"No, you didn't give me no letter." + +"Well, I must a forgot it." + +So he rummaged his pockets, and then went off somewheres where he had +laid it down, and fetched it, and give it to her. She says: + +"Why, it's from St. Petersburg--it's from Sis." + +I allowed another walk would do me good; but I couldn't stir. But +before she could break it open she dropped it and run--for she see +something. And so did I. It was Tom Sawyer on a mattress; and that old +doctor; and Jim, in _her_ calico dress, with his hands tied behind him; +and a lot of people. I hid the letter behind the first thing that come +handy, and rushed. She flung herself at Tom, crying, and says: + +"Oh, he's dead, he's dead, I know he's dead!" + +And Tom he turned his head a little, and muttered something or other, +which showed he warn't in his right mind; then she flung up her hands, +and says: + +"He's alive, thank God! And that's enough!" and she snatched a kiss of +him, and flew for the house to get the bed ready, and scattering orders +right and left at the niggers and everybody else, as fast as her tongue +could go, every jump of the way. + +I followed the men to see what they was going to do with Jim; and the +old doctor and Uncle Silas followed after Tom into the house. The men +was very huffy, and some of them wanted to hang Jim for an example to +all the other niggers around there, so they wouldn't be trying to run +away like Jim done, and making such a raft of trouble, and keeping a +whole family scared most to death for days and nights. But the others +said, don't do it, it wouldn't answer at all; he ain't our nigger, and +his owner would turn up and make us pay for him, sure. So that cooled +them down a little, because the people that's always the most anxious +for to hang a nigger that hain't done just right is always the very +ones that ain't the most anxious to pay for him when they've got their +satisfaction out of him. + +They cussed Jim considerble, though, and give him a cuff or two side the +head once in a while, but Jim never said nothing, and he never let on to +know me, and they took him to the same cabin, and put his own clothes +on him, and chained him again, and not to no bed-leg this time, but to +a big staple drove into the bottom log, and chained his hands, too, and +both legs, and said he warn't to have nothing but bread and water to +eat after this till his owner come, or he was sold at auction because +he didn't come in a certain length of time, and filled up our hole, and +said a couple of farmers with guns must stand watch around about the +cabin every night, and a bulldog tied to the door in the daytime; and +about this time they was through with the job and was tapering off with +a kind of generl good-bye cussing, and then the old doctor comes and +takes a look, and says: + +"Don't be no rougher on him than you're obleeged to, because he ain't +a bad nigger. When I got to where I found the boy I see I couldn't cut +the bullet out without some help, and he warn't in no condition for +me to leave to go and get help; and he got a little worse and a little +worse, and after a long time he went out of his head, and wouldn't let +me come a-nigh him any more, and said if I chalked his raft he'd kill +me, and no end of wild foolishness like that, and I see I couldn't do +anything at all with him; so I says, I got to have _help_ somehow; and +the minute I says it out crawls this nigger from somewheres and says +he'll help, and he done it, too, and done it very well. Of course I +judged he must be a runaway nigger, and there I _was_! and there I had +to stick right straight along all the rest of the day and all night. It +was a fix, I tell you! I had a couple of patients with the chills, and +of course I'd of liked to run up to town and see them, but I dasn't, +because the nigger might get away, and then I'd be to blame; and yet +never a skiff come close enough for me to hail. So there I had to stick +plumb until daylight this morning; and I never see a nigger that was a +better nuss or faithfuller, and yet he was risking his freedom to do it, +and was all tired out, too, and I see plain enough he'd been worked +main hard lately. I liked the nigger for that; I tell you, gentlemen, a +nigger like that is worth a thousand dollars--and kind treatment, too. I +had everything I needed, and the boy was doing as well there as he +would a done at home--better, maybe, because it was so quiet; but there I +_was_, with both of 'm on my hands, and there I had to stick till about +dawn this morning; then some men in a skiff come by, and as good luck +would have it the nigger was setting by the pallet with his head propped +on his knees sound asleep; so I motioned them in quiet, and they slipped +up on him and grabbed him and tied him before he knowed what he was +about, and we never had no trouble. And the boy being in a kind of a +flighty sleep, too, we muffled the oars and hitched the raft on, and +towed her over very nice and quiet, and the nigger never made the least +row nor said a word from the start. He ain't no bad nigger, gentlemen; +that's what I think about him." + +Somebody says: + +"Well, it sounds very good, doctor, I'm obleeged to say." + +Then the others softened up a little, too, and I was mighty thankful +to that old doctor for doing Jim that good turn; and I was glad it was +according to my judgment of him, too; because I thought he had a good +heart in him and was a good man the first time I see him. Then they +all agreed that Jim had acted very well, and was deserving to have some +notice took of it, and reward. So every one of them promised, right out +and hearty, that they wouldn't cuss him no more. + +Then they come out and locked him up. I hoped they was going to say he +could have one or two of the chains took off, because they was rotten +heavy, or could have meat and greens with his bread and water; but they +didn't think of it, and I reckoned it warn't best for me to mix in, but +I judged I'd get the doctor's yarn to Aunt Sally somehow or other as +soon as I'd got through the breakers that was laying just ahead of +me--explanations, I mean, of how I forgot to mention about Sid being shot +when I was telling how him and me put in that dratted night paddling +around hunting the runaway nigger. + +But I had plenty time. Aunt Sally she stuck to the sick-room all day +and all night, and every time I see Uncle Silas mooning around I dodged +him. + +Next morning I heard Tom was a good deal better, and they said Aunt +Sally was gone to get a nap. So I slips to the sick-room, and if I +found him awake I reckoned we could put up a yarn for the family that +would wash. But he was sleeping, and sleeping very peaceful, too; and +pale, not fire-faced the way he was when he come. So I set down and +laid for him to wake. In about half an hour Aunt Sally comes gliding +in, and there I was, up a stump again! She motioned me to be still, and +set down by me, and begun to whisper, and said we could all be joyful +now, because all the symptoms was first-rate, and he'd been sleeping +like that for ever so long, and looking better and peacefuller all the +time, and ten to one he'd wake up in his right mind. + +So we set there watching, and by and by he stirs a bit, and opened his +eyes very natural, and takes a look, and says: + +"Hello!--why, I'm at _home_! How's that? Where's the raft?" + +"It's all right," I says. + +"And _Jim_?" + +"The same," I says, but couldn't say it pretty brash. But he never +noticed, but says: + +"Good! Splendid! _Now_ we're all right and safe! Did you tell Aunty?" + +I was going to say yes; but she chipped in and says: "About what, Sid?" + +"Why, about the way the whole thing was done." + +"What whole thing?" + +"Why, _the_ whole thing. There ain't but one; how we set the runaway +nigger free--me and Tom." + +"Good land! Set the run--What _is_ the child talking about! Dear, dear, +out of his head again!" + +"_No_, I ain't out of my _head_; I know all what I'm talking about. We +_did_ set him free--me and Tom. We laid out to do it, and we _done_ it. + And we done it elegant, too." He'd got a start, and she never checked +him up, just set and stared and stared, and let him clip along, and +I see it warn't no use for _me_ to put in. "Why, Aunty, it cost us a +power of work--weeks of it--hours and hours, every night, whilst you was +all asleep. And we had to steal candles, and the sheet, and the shirt, +and your dress, and spoons, and tin plates, and case-knives, and the +warming-pan, and the grindstone, and flour, and just no end of things, +and you can't think what work it was to make the saws, and pens, and +inscriptions, and one thing or another, and you can't think _half_ the +fun it was. And we had to make up the pictures of coffins and things, +and nonnamous letters from the robbers, and get up and down the +lightning-rod, and dig the hole into the cabin, and made the rope ladder +and send it in cooked up in a pie, and send in spoons and things to work +with in your apron pocket--" + +"Mercy sakes!" + +"--and load up the cabin with rats and snakes and so on, for company for +Jim; and then you kept Tom here so long with the butter in his hat that +you come near spiling the whole business, because the men come before +we was out of the cabin, and we had to rush, and they heard us and let +drive at us, and I got my share, and we dodged out of the path and let +them go by, and when the dogs come they warn't interested in us, but +went for the most noise, and we got our canoe, and made for the +raft, and was all safe, and Jim was a free man, and we done it all by +ourselves, and _wasn't_ it bully, Aunty!" + +"Well, I never heard the likes of it in all my born days! So it was +_you_, you little rapscallions, that's been making all this trouble, +and turned everybody's wits clean inside out and scared us all most to +death. I've as good a notion as ever I had in my life to take it out +o' you this very minute. To think, here I've been, night after night, +a--_you_ just get well once, you young scamp, and I lay I'll tan the Old +Harry out o' both o' ye!" + +But Tom, he _was_ so proud and joyful, he just _couldn't_ hold in, +and his tongue just _went_ it--she a-chipping in, and spitting fire all +along, and both of them going it at once, like a cat convention; and she +says: + +"_Well_, you get all the enjoyment you can out of it _now_, for mind I +tell you if I catch you meddling with him again--" + +"Meddling with _who_?" Tom says, dropping his smile and looking +surprised. + +"With _who_? Why, the runaway nigger, of course. Who'd you reckon?" + +Tom looks at me very grave, and says: + +"Tom, didn't you just tell me he was all right? Hasn't he got away?" + +"_Him_?" says Aunt Sally; "the runaway nigger? 'Deed he hasn't. + They've got him back, safe and sound, and he's in that cabin again, +on bread and water, and loaded down with chains, till he's claimed or +sold!" + +Tom rose square up in bed, with his eye hot, and his nostrils opening +and shutting like gills, and sings out to me: + +"They hain't no _right_ to shut him up! SHOVE!--and don't you lose a +minute. Turn him loose! he ain't no slave; he's as free as any cretur +that walks this earth!" + +"What _does_ the child mean?" + +"I mean every word I _say_, Aunt Sally, and if somebody don't go, _I'll_ +go. I've knowed him all his life, and so has Tom, there. Old Miss +Watson died two months ago, and she was ashamed she ever was going to +sell him down the river, and _said_ so; and she set him free in her +will." + +"Then what on earth did _you_ want to set him free for, seeing he was +already free?" + +"Well, that _is_ a question, I must say; and just like women! Why, +I wanted the _adventure_ of it; and I'd a waded neck-deep in blood +to--goodness alive, _Aunt Polly!_" + +If she warn't standing right there, just inside the door, looking as +sweet and contented as an angel half full of pie, I wish I may never! + +Aunt Sally jumped for her, and most hugged the head off of her, and +cried over her, and I found a good enough place for me under the bed, +for it was getting pretty sultry for us, seemed to me. And I peeped +out, and in a little while Tom's Aunt Polly shook herself loose and +stood there looking across at Tom over her spectacles--kind of grinding +him into the earth, you know. And then she says: + +"Yes, you _better_ turn y'r head away--I would if I was you, Tom." + +"Oh, deary me!" says Aunt Sally; "_Is_ he changed so? Why, that ain't +_Tom_, it's Sid; Tom's--Tom's--why, where is Tom? He was here a minute +ago." + +"You mean where's Huck _Finn_--that's what you mean! I reckon I hain't +raised such a scamp as my Tom all these years not to know him when I +_see_ him. That _would_ be a pretty howdy-do. Come out from under that +bed, Huck Finn." + +So I done it. But not feeling brash. + +Aunt Sally she was one of the mixed-upest-looking persons I ever +see--except one, and that was Uncle Silas, when he come in and they told +it all to him. It kind of made him drunk, as you may say, and he didn't +know nothing at all the rest of the day, and preached a prayer-meeting +sermon that night that gave him a rattling ruputation, because the +oldest man in the world couldn't a understood it. So Tom's Aunt Polly, +she told all about who I was, and what; and I had to up and tell how +I was in such a tight place that when Mrs. Phelps took me for Tom +Sawyer--she chipped in and says, "Oh, go on and call me Aunt Sally, I'm +used to it now, and 'tain't no need to change"--that when Aunt Sally took +me for Tom Sawyer I had to stand it--there warn't no other way, and +I knowed he wouldn't mind, because it would be nuts for him, being +a mystery, and he'd make an adventure out of it, and be perfectly +satisfied. And so it turned out, and he let on to be Sid, and made +things as soft as he could for me. + +And his Aunt Polly she said Tom was right about old Miss Watson setting +Jim free in her will; and so, sure enough, Tom Sawyer had gone and took +all that trouble and bother to set a free nigger free! and I couldn't +ever understand before, until that minute and that talk, how he _could_ +help a body set a nigger free with his bringing-up. + +Well, Aunt Polly she said that when Aunt Sally wrote to her that Tom and +_Sid_ had come all right and safe, she says to herself: + +"Look at that, now! I might have expected it, letting him go off that +way without anybody to watch him. So now I got to go and trapse all +the way down the river, eleven hundred mile, and find out what that +creetur's up to _this_ time, as long as I couldn't seem to get any +answer out of you about it." + +"Why, I never heard nothing from you," says Aunt Sally. + +"Well, I wonder! Why, I wrote you twice to ask you what you could mean +by Sid being here." + +"Well, I never got 'em, Sis." + +Aunt Polly she turns around slow and severe, and says: + +"You, Tom!" + +"Well--_what_?" he says, kind of pettish. + +"Don't you what _me_, you impudent thing--hand out them letters." + +"What letters?" + +"_Them_ letters. I be bound, if I have to take a-holt of you I'll--" + +"They're in the trunk. There, now. And they're just the same as they +was when I got them out of the office. I hain't looked into them, I +hain't touched them. But I knowed they'd make trouble, and I thought if +you warn't in no hurry, I'd--" + +"Well, you _do_ need skinning, there ain't no mistake about it. And I +wrote another one to tell you I was coming; and I s'pose he--" + +"No, it come yesterday; I hain't read it yet, but _it's_ all right, I've +got that one." + +I wanted to offer to bet two dollars she hadn't, but I reckoned maybe it +was just as safe to not to. So I never said nothing. + + + + +CHAPTER THE LAST + +THE first time I catched Tom private I asked him what was his idea, time +of the evasion?--what it was he'd planned to do if the evasion worked all +right and he managed to set a nigger free that was already free before? +And he said, what he had planned in his head from the start, if we got +Jim out all safe, was for us to run him down the river on the raft, and +have adventures plumb to the mouth of the river, and then tell him about +his being free, and take him back up home on a steamboat, in style, +and pay him for his lost time, and write word ahead and get out all +the niggers around, and have them waltz him into town with a torchlight +procession and a brass-band, and then he would be a hero, and so would +we. But I reckoned it was about as well the way it was. + +We had Jim out of the chains in no time, and when Aunt Polly and Uncle +Silas and Aunt Sally found out how good he helped the doctor nurse Tom, +they made a heap of fuss over him, and fixed him up prime, and give him +all he wanted to eat, and a good time, and nothing to do. And we had +him up to the sick-room, and had a high talk; and Tom give Jim forty +dollars for being prisoner for us so patient, and doing it up so good, +and Jim was pleased most to death, and busted out, and says: + +"Dah, now, Huck, what I tell you?--what I tell you up dah on Jackson +islan'? I _tole_ you I got a hairy breas', en what's de sign un it; en +I _tole_ you I ben rich wunst, en gwineter to be rich _agin_; en it's +come true; en heah she is! _dah_, now! doan' talk to _me_--signs is +_signs_, mine I tell you; en I knowed jis' 's well 'at I 'uz gwineter be +rich agin as I's a-stannin' heah dis minute!" + +And then Tom he talked along and talked along, and says, le's all three +slide out of here one of these nights and get an outfit, and go for +howling adventures amongst the Injuns, over in the Territory, for a +couple of weeks or two; and I says, all right, that suits me, but I +ain't got no money for to buy the outfit, and I reckon I couldn't get +none from home, because it's likely pap's been back before now, and got +it all away from Judge Thatcher and drunk it up. + +"No, he hain't," Tom says; "it's all there yet--six thousand dollars +and more; and your pap hain't ever been back since. Hadn't when I come +away, anyhow." + +Jim says, kind of solemn: + +"He ain't a-comin' back no mo', Huck." + +I says: + +"Why, Jim?" + +"Nemmine why, Huck--but he ain't comin' back no mo." + +But I kept at him; so at last he says: + +"Doan' you 'member de house dat was float'n down de river, en dey wuz a +man in dah, kivered up, en I went in en unkivered him and didn' let you +come in? Well, den, you kin git yo' money when you wants it, kase dat +wuz him." + +Tom's most well now, and got his bullet around his neck on a watch-guard +for a watch, and is always seeing what time it is, and so there ain't +nothing more to write about, and I am rotten glad of it, because if I'd +a knowed what a trouble it was to make a book I wouldn't a tackled it, +and ain't a-going to no more. But I reckon I got to light out for the +Territory ahead of the rest, because Aunt Sally she's going to adopt me +and sivilize me, and I can't stand it. I been there before. + +THE END. YOURS TRULY, _HUCK FINN_. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, +Complete, by Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HUCKLEBERRY FINN *** + +***** This file should be named 76-h.htm or 76-h.zip ***** This and +all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.net/7/76/ + +Produced by David Widger. Previous editions produced by Ron Burkey and +Internet Wiretap + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be +renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one +owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and +you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission +and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks +in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + +http://www.gutenberg.net + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, including +how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to +our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/src/main/pg-metamorphosis.txt b/src/main/pg-metamorphosis.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9270f3d --- /dev/null +++ b/src/main/pg-metamorphosis.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2362 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Metamorphosis, by Franz Kafka +Translated by David Wyllie. + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net + +** This is a COPYRIGHTED Project Gutenberg eBook, Details Below ** +** Please follow the copyright guidelines in this file. ** + + +Title: Metamorphosis + +Author: Franz Kafka + +Translator: David Wyllie + +Release Date: August 16, 2005 [EBook #5200] +First posted: May 13, 2002 +Last updated: May 20, 2012 + +Language: English + + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK METAMORPHOSIS *** + + + + +Copyright (C) 2002 David Wyllie. + + + + + + Metamorphosis + Franz Kafka + +Translated by David Wyllie + + + +I + + +One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found +himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin. He lay on +his armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a little he could +see his brown belly, slightly domed and divided by arches into stiff +sections. The bedding was hardly able to cover it and seemed ready +to slide off any moment. His many legs, pitifully thin compared +with the size of the rest of him, waved about helplessly as he +looked. + +"What's happened to me?" he thought. It wasn't a dream. His room, +a proper human room although a little too small, lay peacefully +between its four familiar walls. A collection of textile samples +lay spread out on the table - Samsa was a travelling salesman - and +above it there hung a picture that he had recently cut out of an +illustrated magazine and housed in a nice, gilded frame. It showed +a lady fitted out with a fur hat and fur boa who sat upright, +raising a heavy fur muff that covered the whole of her lower arm +towards the viewer. + +Gregor then turned to look out the window at the dull weather. +Drops of rain could be heard hitting the pane, which made him feel +quite sad. "How about if I sleep a little bit longer and forget all +this nonsense", he thought, but that was something he was unable to +do because he was used to sleeping on his right, and in his present +state couldn't get into that position. However hard he threw +himself onto his right, he always rolled back to where he was. He +must have tried it a hundred times, shut his eyes so that he +wouldn't have to look at the floundering legs, and only stopped when +he began to feel a mild, dull pain there that he had never felt +before. + +"Oh, God", he thought, "what a strenuous career it is that I've +chosen! Travelling day in and day out. Doing business like this +takes much more effort than doing your own business at home, and on +top of that there's the curse of travelling, worries about making +train connections, bad and irregular food, contact with different +people all the time so that you can never get to know anyone or +become friendly with them. It can all go to Hell!" He felt a +slight itch up on his belly; pushed himself slowly up on his back +towards the headboard so that he could lift his head better; found +where the itch was, and saw that it was covered with lots of little +white spots which he didn't know what to make of; and when he tried +to feel the place with one of his legs he drew it quickly back +because as soon as he touched it he was overcome by a cold shudder. + +He slid back into his former position. "Getting up early all the +time", he thought, "it makes you stupid. You've got to get enough +sleep. Other travelling salesmen live a life of luxury. For +instance, whenever I go back to the guest house during the morning +to copy out the contract, these gentlemen are always still sitting +there eating their breakfasts. I ought to just try that with my +boss; I'd get kicked out on the spot. But who knows, maybe that +would be the best thing for me. If I didn't have my parents to +think about I'd have given in my notice a long time ago, I'd have +gone up to the boss and told him just what I think, tell him +everything I would, let him know just what I feel. He'd fall right +off his desk! And it's a funny sort of business to be sitting up +there at your desk, talking down at your subordinates from up there, +especially when you have to go right up close because the boss is +hard of hearing. Well, there's still some hope; once I've got the +money together to pay off my parents' debt to him - another five or +six years I suppose - that's definitely what I'll do. That's when +I'll make the big change. First of all though, I've got to get up, +my train leaves at five." + +And he looked over at the alarm clock, ticking on the chest of +drawers. "God in Heaven!" he thought. It was half past six and the +hands were quietly moving forwards, it was even later than half +past, more like quarter to seven. Had the alarm clock not rung? He +could see from the bed that it had been set for four o'clock as it +should have been; it certainly must have rung. Yes, but was it +possible to quietly sleep through that furniture-rattling noise? +True, he had not slept peacefully, but probably all the more deeply +because of that. What should he do now? The next train went at +seven; if he were to catch that he would have to rush like mad and +the collection of samples was still not packed, and he did not at +all feel particularly fresh and lively. And even if he did catch +the train he would not avoid his boss's anger as the office +assistant would have been there to see the five o'clock train go, he +would have put in his report about Gregor's not being there a long +time ago. The office assistant was the boss's man, spineless, and +with no understanding. What about if he reported sick? But that +would be extremely strained and suspicious as in fifteen years of +service Gregor had never once yet been ill. His boss would +certainly come round with the doctor from the medical insurance +company, accuse his parents of having a lazy son, and accept the +doctor's recommendation not to make any claim as the doctor believed +that no-one was ever ill but that many were workshy. And what's +more, would he have been entirely wrong in this case? Gregor did in +fact, apart from excessive sleepiness after sleeping for so long, +feel completely well and even felt much hungrier than usual. + +He was still hurriedly thinking all this through, unable to decide +to get out of the bed, when the clock struck quarter to seven. +There was a cautious knock at the door near his head. "Gregor", +somebody called - it was his mother - "it's quarter to seven. +Didn't you want to go somewhere?" That gentle voice! Gregor was +shocked when he heard his own voice answering, it could hardly be +recognised as the voice he had had before. As if from deep inside +him, there was a painful and uncontrollable squeaking mixed in with +it, the words could be made out at first but then there was a sort +of echo which made them unclear, leaving the hearer unsure whether +he had heard properly or not. Gregor had wanted to give a full +answer and explain everything, but in the circumstances contented +himself with saying: "Yes, mother, yes, thank-you, I'm getting up +now." The change in Gregor's voice probably could not be noticed +outside through the wooden door, as his mother was satisfied with +this explanation and shuffled away. But this short conversation +made the other members of the family aware that Gregor, against +their expectations was still at home, and soon his father came +knocking at one of the side doors, gently, but with his fist. +"Gregor, Gregor", he called, "what's wrong?" And after a short +while he called again with a warning deepness in his voice: "Gregor! +Gregor!" At the other side door his sister came plaintively: +"Gregor? Aren't you well? Do you need anything?" Gregor answered to +both sides: "I'm ready, now", making an effort to remove all the +strangeness from his voice by enunciating very carefully and putting +long pauses between each, individual word. His father went back to +his breakfast, but his sister whispered: "Gregor, open the door, I +beg of you." Gregor, however, had no thought of opening the door, +and instead congratulated himself for his cautious habit, acquired +from his travelling, of locking all doors at night even when he was +at home. + +The first thing he wanted to do was to get up in peace without being +disturbed, to get dressed, and most of all to have his breakfast. +Only then would he consider what to do next, as he was well aware +that he would not bring his thoughts to any sensible conclusions by +lying in bed. He remembered that he had often felt a slight pain in +bed, perhaps caused by lying awkwardly, but that had always turned +out to be pure imagination and he wondered how his imaginings would +slowly resolve themselves today. He did not have the slightest +doubt that the change in his voice was nothing more than the first +sign of a serious cold, which was an occupational hazard for +travelling salesmen. + +It was a simple matter to throw off the covers; he only had to blow +himself up a little and they fell off by themselves. But it became +difficult after that, especially as he was so exceptionally broad. +He would have used his arms and his hands to push himself up; but +instead of them he only had all those little legs continuously +moving in different directions, and which he was moreover unable to +control. If he wanted to bend one of them, then that was the first +one that would stretch itself out; and if he finally managed to do +what he wanted with that leg, all the others seemed to be set free +and would move about painfully. "This is something that can't be +done in bed", Gregor said to himself, "so don't keep trying to do +it". + +The first thing he wanted to do was get the lower part of his body +out of the bed, but he had never seen this lower part, and could not +imagine what it looked like; it turned out to be too hard to move; +it went so slowly; and finally, almost in a frenzy, when he +carelessly shoved himself forwards with all the force he could +gather, he chose the wrong direction, hit hard against the lower +bedpost, and learned from the burning pain he felt that the lower +part of his body might well, at present, be the most sensitive. + +So then he tried to get the top part of his body out of the bed +first, carefully turning his head to the side. This he managed +quite easily, and despite its breadth and its weight, the bulk of +his body eventually followed slowly in the direction of the head. +But when he had at last got his head out of the bed and into the +fresh air it occurred to him that if he let himself fall it would be +a miracle if his head were not injured, so he became afraid to carry +on pushing himself forward the same way. And he could not knock +himself out now at any price; better to stay in bed than lose +consciousness. + +It took just as much effort to get back to where he had been +earlier, but when he lay there sighing, and was once more watching +his legs as they struggled against each other even harder than +before, if that was possible, he could think of no way of bringing +peace and order to this chaos. He told himself once more that it +was not possible for him to stay in bed and that the most sensible +thing to do would be to get free of it in whatever way he could at +whatever sacrifice. At the same time, though, he did not forget to +remind himself that calm consideration was much better than rushing +to desperate conclusions. At times like this he would direct his +eyes to the window and look out as clearly as he could, but +unfortunately, even the other side of the narrow street was +enveloped in morning fog and the view had little confidence or cheer +to offer him. "Seven o'clock, already", he said to himself when the +clock struck again, "seven o'clock, and there's still a fog like +this." And he lay there quietly a while longer, breathing lightly +as if he perhaps expected the total stillness to bring things back +to their real and natural state. + +But then he said to himself: "Before it strikes quarter past seven +I'll definitely have to have got properly out of bed. And by then +somebody will have come round from work to ask what's happened to me +as well, as they open up at work before seven o'clock." And so he +set himself to the task of swinging the entire length of his body +out of the bed all at the same time. If he succeeded in falling out +of bed in this way and kept his head raised as he did so he could +probably avoid injuring it. His back seemed to be quite hard, and +probably nothing would happen to it falling onto the carpet. His +main concern was for the loud noise he was bound to make, and which +even through all the doors would probably raise concern if not +alarm. But it was something that had to be risked. + +When Gregor was already sticking half way out of the bed - the new +method was more of a game than an effort, all he had to do was rock +back and forth - it occurred to him how simple everything would be +if somebody came to help him. Two strong people - he had his father +and the maid in mind - would have been more than enough; they would +only have to push their arms under the dome of his back, peel him +away from the bed, bend down with the load and then be patient and +careful as he swang over onto the floor, where, hopefully, the +little legs would find a use. Should he really call for help +though, even apart from the fact that all the doors were locked? +Despite all the difficulty he was in, he could not suppress a smile +at this thought. + +After a while he had already moved so far across that it would have +been hard for him to keep his balance if he rocked too hard. The +time was now ten past seven and he would have to make a final +decision very soon. Then there was a ring at the door of the flat. +"That'll be someone from work", he said to himself, and froze very +still, although his little legs only became all the more lively as +they danced around. For a moment everything remained quiet. +"They're not opening the door", Gregor said to himself, caught in +some nonsensical hope. But then of course, the maid's firm steps +went to the door as ever and opened it. Gregor only needed to hear +the visitor's first words of greeting and he knew who it was - the +chief clerk himself. Why did Gregor have to be the only one +condemned to work for a company where they immediately became highly +suspicious at the slightest shortcoming? Were all employees, every +one of them, louts, was there not one of them who was faithful and +devoted who would go so mad with pangs of conscience that he +couldn't get out of bed if he didn't spend at least a couple of +hours in the morning on company business? Was it really not enough +to let one of the trainees make enquiries - assuming enquiries were +even necessary - did the chief clerk have to come himself, and did +they have to show the whole, innocent family that this was so +suspicious that only the chief clerk could be trusted to have the +wisdom to investigate it? And more because these thoughts had made +him upset than through any proper decision, he swang himself with +all his force out of the bed. There was a loud thump, but it wasn't +really a loud noise. His fall was softened a little by the carpet, +and Gregor's back was also more elastic than he had thought, which +made the sound muffled and not too noticeable. He had not held his +head carefully enough, though, and hit it as he fell; annoyed and in +pain, he turned it and rubbed it against the carpet. + +"Something's fallen down in there", said the chief clerk in the room +on the left. Gregor tried to imagine whether something of the sort +that had happened to him today could ever happen to the chief clerk +too; you had to concede that it was possible. But as if in gruff +reply to this question, the chief clerk's firm footsteps in his +highly polished boots could now be heard in the adjoining room. +From the room on his right, Gregor's sister whispered to him to let +him know: "Gregor, the chief clerk is here." "Yes, I know", said +Gregor to himself; but without daring to raise his voice loud enough +for his sister to hear him. + +"Gregor", said his father now from the room to his left, "the chief +clerk has come round and wants to know why you didn't leave on the +early train. We don't know what to say to him. And anyway, he +wants to speak to you personally. So please open up this door. I'm +sure he'll be good enough to forgive the untidiness of your room." +Then the chief clerk called "Good morning, Mr. Samsa". "He isn't +well", said his mother to the chief clerk, while his father +continued to speak through the door. "He isn't well, please believe +me. Why else would Gregor have missed a train! The lad only ever +thinks about the business. It nearly makes me cross the way he +never goes out in the evenings; he's been in town for a week now but +stayed home every evening. He sits with us in the kitchen and just +reads the paper or studies train timetables. His idea of relaxation +is working with his fretsaw. He's made a little frame, for +instance, it only took him two or three evenings, you'll be amazed +how nice it is; it's hanging up in his room; you'll see it as soon +as Gregor opens the door. Anyway, I'm glad you're here; we wouldn't +have been able to get Gregor to open the door by ourselves; he's so +stubborn; and I'm sure he isn't well, he said this morning that he +is, but he isn't." "I'll be there in a moment", said Gregor slowly +and thoughtfully, but without moving so that he would not miss any +word of the conversation. "Well I can't think of any other way of +explaining it, Mrs. Samsa", said the chief clerk, "I hope it's +nothing serious. But on the other hand, I must say that if we +people in commerce ever become slightly unwell then, fortunately or +unfortunately as you like, we simply have to overcome it because of +business considerations." "Can the chief clerk come in to see you +now then?", asked his father impatiently, knocking at the door +again. "No", said Gregor. In the room on his right there followed +a painful silence; in the room on his left his sister began to cry. + +So why did his sister not go and join the others? She had probably +only just got up and had not even begun to get dressed. And why was +she crying? Was it because he had not got up, and had not let the +chief clerk in, because he was in danger of losing his job and if +that happened his boss would once more pursue their parents with the +same demands as before? There was no need to worry about things like +that yet. Gregor was still there and had not the slightest +intention of abandoning his family. For the time being he just lay +there on the carpet, and no-one who knew the condition he was in +would seriously have expected him to let the chief clerk in. It was +only a minor discourtesy, and a suitable excuse could easily be +found for it later on, it was not something for which Gregor could +be sacked on the spot. And it seemed to Gregor much more sensible +to leave him now in peace instead of disturbing him with talking at +him and crying. But the others didn't know what was happening, they +were worried, that would excuse their behaviour. + +The chief clerk now raised his voice, "Mr. Samsa", he called to him, +"what is wrong? You barricade yourself in your room, give us no more +than yes or no for an answer, you are causing serious and +unnecessary concern to your parents and you fail - and I mention +this just by the way - you fail to carry out your business duties in +a way that is quite unheard of. I'm speaking here on behalf of your +parents and of your employer, and really must request a clear and +immediate explanation. I am astonished, quite astonished. I +thought I knew you as a calm and sensible person, and now you +suddenly seem to be showing off with peculiar whims. This morning, +your employer did suggest a possible reason for your failure to +appear, it's true - it had to do with the money that was recently +entrusted to you - but I came near to giving him my word of honour +that that could not be the right explanation. But now that I see +your incomprehensible stubbornness I no longer feel any wish +whatsoever to intercede on your behalf. And nor is your position +all that secure. I had originally intended to say all this to you +in private, but since you cause me to waste my time here for no good +reason I don't see why your parents should not also learn of it. +Your turnover has been very unsatisfactory of late; I grant you that +it's not the time of year to do especially good business, we +recognise that; but there simply is no time of year to do no +business at all, Mr. Samsa, we cannot allow there to be." + +"But Sir", called Gregor, beside himself and forgetting all else in +the excitement, "I'll open up immediately, just a moment. I'm +slightly unwell, an attack of dizziness, I haven't been able to get +up. I'm still in bed now. I'm quite fresh again now, though. I'm +just getting out of bed. Just a moment. Be patient! It's not quite +as easy as I'd thought. I'm quite alright now, though. It's +shocking, what can suddenly happen to a person! I was quite alright +last night, my parents know about it, perhaps better than me, I had +a small symptom of it last night already. They must have noticed +it. I don't know why I didn't let you know at work! But you always +think you can get over an illness without staying at home. Please, +don't make my parents suffer! There's no basis for any of the +accusations you're making; nobody's ever said a word to me about any +of these things. Maybe you haven't read the latest contracts I sent +in. I'll set off with the eight o'clock train, as well, these few +hours of rest have given me strength. You don't need to wait, sir; +I'll be in the office soon after you, and please be so good as to +tell that to the boss and recommend me to him!" + +And while Gregor gushed out these words, hardly knowing what he was +saying, he made his way over to the chest of drawers - this was +easily done, probably because of the practise he had already had in +bed - where he now tried to get himself upright. He really did want +to open the door, really did want to let them see him and to speak +with the chief clerk; the others were being so insistent, and he was +curious to learn what they would say when they caught sight of him. +If they were shocked then it would no longer be Gregor's +responsibility and he could rest. If, however, they took everything +calmly he would still have no reason to be upset, and if he hurried +he really could be at the station for eight o'clock. The first few +times he tried to climb up on the smooth chest of drawers he just +slid down again, but he finally gave himself one last swing and +stood there upright; the lower part of his body was in serious pain +but he no longer gave any attention to it. Now he let himself fall +against the back of a nearby chair and held tightly to the edges of +it with his little legs. By now he had also calmed down, and kept +quiet so that he could listen to what the chief clerk was saying. + +"Did you understand a word of all that?" the chief clerk asked his +parents, "surely he's not trying to make fools of us". "Oh, God!" +called his mother, who was already in tears, "he could be seriously +ill and we're making him suffer. Grete! Grete!" she then cried. +"Mother?" his sister called from the other side. They communicated +across Gregor's room. "You'll have to go for the doctor straight +away. Gregor is ill. Quick, get the doctor. Did you hear the way +Gregor spoke just now?" "That was the voice of an animal", said the +chief clerk, with a calmness that was in contrast with his mother's +screams. "Anna! Anna!" his father called into the kitchen through +the entrance hall, clapping his hands, "get a locksmith here, now!" +And the two girls, their skirts swishing, immediately ran out +through the hall, wrenching open the front door of the flat as they +went. How had his sister managed to get dressed so quickly? There +was no sound of the door banging shut again; they must have left it +open; people often do in homes where something awful has happened. + +Gregor, in contrast, had become much calmer. So they couldn't +understand his words any more, although they seemed clear enough to +him, clearer than before - perhaps his ears had become used to the +sound. They had realised, though, that there was something wrong +with him, and were ready to help. The first response to his +situation had been confident and wise, and that made him feel +better. He felt that he had been drawn back in among people, and +from the doctor and the locksmith he expected great and surprising +achievements - although he did not really distinguish one from the +other. Whatever was said next would be crucial, so, in order to +make his voice as clear as possible, he coughed a little, but taking +care to do this not too loudly as even this might well sound +different from the way that a human coughs and he was no longer sure +he could judge this for himself. Meanwhile, it had become very +quiet in the next room. Perhaps his parents were sat at the table +whispering with the chief clerk, or perhaps they were all pressed +against the door and listening. + +Gregor slowly pushed his way over to the door with the chair. Once +there he let go of it and threw himself onto the door, holding +himself upright against it using the adhesive on the tips of his +legs. He rested there a little while to recover from the effort +involved and then set himself to the task of turning the key in the +lock with his mouth. He seemed, unfortunately, to have no proper +teeth - how was he, then, to grasp the key? - but the lack of teeth +was, of course, made up for with a very strong jaw; using the jaw, +he really was able to start the key turning, ignoring the fact that +he must have been causing some kind of damage as a brown fluid came +from his mouth, flowed over the key and dripped onto the floor. +"Listen", said the chief clerk in the next room, "he's turning the +key." Gregor was greatly encouraged by this; but they all should +have been calling to him, his father and his mother too: "Well done, +Gregor", they should have cried, "keep at it, keep hold of the +lock!" And with the idea that they were all excitedly following his +efforts, he bit on the key with all his strength, paying no +attention to the pain he was causing himself. As the key turned +round he turned around the lock with it, only holding himself +upright with his mouth, and hung onto the key or pushed it down +again with the whole weight of his body as needed. The clear sound +of the lock as it snapped back was Gregor's sign that he could break +his concentration, and as he regained his breath he said to himself: +"So, I didn't need the locksmith after all". Then he lay his head on +the handle of the door to open it completely. + +Because he had to open the door in this way, it was already wide +open before he could be seen. He had first to slowly turn himself +around one of the double doors, and he had to do it very carefully +if he did not want to fall flat on his back before entering the +room. He was still occupied with this difficult movement, unable to +pay attention to anything else, when he heard the chief clerk +exclaim a loud "Oh!", which sounded like the soughing of the wind. +Now he also saw him - he was the nearest to the door - his hand +pressed against his open mouth and slowly retreating as if driven by +a steady and invisible force. Gregor's mother, her hair still +dishevelled from bed despite the chief clerk's being there, looked +at his father. Then she unfolded her arms, took two steps forward +towards Gregor and sank down onto the floor into her skirts that +spread themselves out around her as her head disappeared down onto +her breast. His father looked hostile, and clenched his fists as if +wanting to knock Gregor back into his room. Then he looked +uncertainly round the living room, covered his eyes with his hands +and wept so that his powerful chest shook. + +So Gregor did not go into the room, but leant against the inside of +the other door which was still held bolted in place. In this way +only half of his body could be seen, along with his head above it +which he leant over to one side as he peered out at the others. +Meanwhile the day had become much lighter; part of the endless, +grey-black building on the other side of the street - which was a +hospital - could be seen quite clearly with the austere and regular +line of windows piercing its facade; the rain was still +falling, now throwing down large, individual droplets which hit the +ground one at a time. The washing up from breakfast lay on the +table; there was so much of it because, for Gregor's father, +breakfast was the most important meal of the day and he would +stretch it out for several hours as he sat reading a number of +different newspapers. On the wall exactly opposite there was +photograph of Gregor when he was a lieutenant in the army, his sword +in his hand and a carefree smile on his face as he called forth +respect for his uniform and bearing. The door to the entrance hall +was open and as the front door of the flat was also open he could +see onto the landing and the stairs where they began their way down +below. + +"Now, then", said Gregor, well aware that he was the only one to +have kept calm, "I'll get dressed straight away now, pack up my +samples and set off. Will you please just let me leave? You can +see", he said to the chief clerk, "that I'm not stubborn and I +like to do my job; being a commercial traveller is arduous but +without travelling I couldn't earn my living. So where are you +going, in to the office? Yes? Will you report everything accurately, +then? It's quite possible for someone to be temporarily unable to +work, but that's just the right time to remember what's been +achieved in the past and consider that later on, once the difficulty +has been removed, he will certainly work with all the more diligence +and concentration. You're well aware that I'm seriously in debt to +our employer as well as having to look after my parents and my +sister, so that I'm trapped in a difficult situation, but I will +work my way out of it again. Please don't make things any harder +for me than they are already, and don't take sides against me at the +office. I know that nobody likes the travellers. They think we +earn an enormous wage as well as having a soft time of it. That's +just prejudice but they have no particular reason to think better of +it. But you, sir, you have a better overview than the rest of the +staff, in fact, if I can say this in confidence, a better overview +than the boss himself - it's very easy for a businessman like him to +make mistakes about his employees and judge them more harshly than +he should. And you're also well aware that we travellers spend +almost the whole year away from the office, so that we can very +easily fall victim to gossip and chance and groundless complaints, +and it's almost impossible to defend yourself from that sort of +thing, we don't usually even hear about them, or if at all it's when +we arrive back home exhausted from a trip, and that's when we feel +the harmful effects of what's been going on without even knowing +what caused them. Please, don't go away, at least first say +something to show that you grant that I'm at least partly right!" + +But the chief clerk had turned away as soon as Gregor had started to +speak, and, with protruding lips, only stared back at him over his +trembling shoulders as he left. He did not keep still for a moment +while Gregor was speaking, but moved steadily towards the door +without taking his eyes off him. He moved very gradually, as if +there had been some secret prohibition on leaving the room. It was +only when he had reached the entrance hall that he made a sudden +movement, drew his foot from the living room, and rushed forward in +a panic. In the hall, he stretched his right hand far out towards +the stairway as if out there, there were some supernatural force +waiting to save him. + +Gregor realised that it was out of the question to let the chief +clerk go away in this mood if his position in the firm was not to be +put into extreme danger. That was something his parents did not +understand very well; over the years, they had become convinced that +this job would provide for Gregor for his entire life, and besides, +they had so much to worry about at present that they had lost sight +of any thought for the future. Gregor, though, did think about the +future. The chief clerk had to be held back, calmed down, convinced +and finally won over; the future of Gregor and his family depended +on it! If only his sister were here! She was clever; she was already +in tears while Gregor was still lying peacefully on his back. And +the chief clerk was a lover of women, surely she could persuade him; +she would close the front door in the entrance hall and talk him out +of his shocked state. But his sister was not there, Gregor would +have to do the job himself. And without considering that he still +was not familiar with how well he could move about in his present +state, or that his speech still might not - or probably would not - +be understood, he let go of the door; pushed himself through the +opening; tried to reach the chief clerk on the landing who, +ridiculously, was holding on to the banister with both hands; but +Gregor fell immediately over and, with a little scream as he sought +something to hold onto, landed on his numerous little legs. Hardly +had that happened than, for the first time that day, he began to +feel alright with his body; the little legs had the solid ground +under them; to his pleasure, they did exactly as he told them; they +were even making the effort to carry him where he wanted to go; and +he was soon believing that all his sorrows would soon be finally at +an end. He held back the urge to move but swayed from side to side +as he crouched there on the floor. His mother was not far away in +front of him and seemed, at first, quite engrossed in herself, but +then she suddenly jumped up with her arms outstretched and her +fingers spread shouting: "Help, for pity's sake, Help!" The way she +held her head suggested she wanted to see Gregor better, but the +unthinking way she was hurrying backwards showed that she did not; +she had forgotten that the table was behind her with all the +breakfast things on it; when she reached the table she sat quickly +down on it without knowing what she was doing; without even seeming +to notice that the coffee pot had been knocked over and a gush of +coffee was pouring down onto the carpet. + +"Mother, mother", said Gregor gently, looking up at her. He had +completely forgotten the chief clerk for the moment, but could not +help himself snapping in the air with his jaws at the sight of the +flow of coffee. That set his mother screaming anew, she fled from +the table and into the arms of his father as he rushed towards her. +Gregor, though, had no time to spare for his parents now; the chief +clerk had already reached the stairs; with his chin on the banister, +he looked back for the last time. Gregor made a run for him; he +wanted to be sure of reaching him; the chief clerk must have +expected something, as he leapt down several steps at once and +disappeared; his shouts resounding all around the staircase. The +flight of the chief clerk seemed, unfortunately, to put Gregor's +father into a panic as well. Until then he had been relatively self +controlled, but now, instead of running after the chief clerk +himself, or at least not impeding Gregor as he ran after him, +Gregor's father seized the chief clerk's stick in his right hand +(the chief clerk had left it behind on a chair, along with his hat +and overcoat), picked up a large newspaper from the table with his +left, and used them to drive Gregor back into his room, stamping his +foot at him as he went. Gregor's appeals to his father were of no +help, his appeals were simply not understood, however much he humbly +turned his head his father merely stamped his foot all the harder. +Across the room, despite the chilly weather, Gregor's mother had +pulled open a window, leant far out of it and pressed her hands to +her face. A strong draught of air flew in from the street towards +the stairway, the curtains flew up, the newspapers on the table +fluttered and some of them were blown onto the floor. Nothing would +stop Gregor's father as he drove him back, making hissing noises at +him like a wild man. Gregor had never had any practice in moving +backwards and was only able to go very slowly. If Gregor had only +been allowed to turn round he would have been back in his room +straight away, but he was afraid that if he took the time to do that +his father would become impatient, and there was the threat of a +lethal blow to his back or head from the stick in his father's hand +any moment. Eventually, though, Gregor realised that he had no +choice as he saw, to his disgust, that he was quite incapable of +going backwards in a straight line; so he began, as quickly as +possible and with frequent anxious glances at his father, to turn +himself round. It went very slowly, but perhaps his father was able +to see his good intentions as he did nothing to hinder him, in fact +now and then he used the tip of his stick to give directions from a +distance as to which way to turn. If only his father would stop +that unbearable hissing! It was making Gregor quite confused. When +he had nearly finished turning round, still listening to that +hissing, he made a mistake and turned himself back a little the way +he had just come. He was pleased when he finally had his head in +front of the doorway, but then saw that it was too narrow, and his +body was too broad to get through it without further difficulty. In +his present mood, it obviously did not occur to his father to open +the other of the double doors so that Gregor would have enough space +to get through. He was merely fixed on the idea that Gregor should +be got back into his room as quickly as possible. Nor would he ever +have allowed Gregor the time to get himself upright as preparation +for getting through the doorway. What he did, making more noise +than ever, was to drive Gregor forwards all the harder as if there +had been nothing in the way; it sounded to Gregor as if there was +now more than one father behind him; it was not a pleasant +experience, and Gregor pushed himself into the doorway without +regard for what might happen. One side of his body lifted itself, +he lay at an angle in the doorway, one flank scraped on the white +door and was painfully injured, leaving vile brown flecks on it, +soon he was stuck fast and would not have been able to move at all +by himself, the little legs along one side hung quivering in the air +while those on the other side were pressed painfully against the +ground. Then his father gave him a hefty shove from behind which +released him from where he was held and sent him flying, and heavily +bleeding, deep into his room. The door was slammed shut with the +stick, then, finally, all was quiet. + + + +II + + +It was not until it was getting dark that evening that Gregor awoke +from his deep and coma-like sleep. He would have woken soon +afterwards anyway even if he hadn't been disturbed, as he had had +enough sleep and felt fully rested. But he had the impression that +some hurried steps and the sound of the door leading into the front +room being carefully shut had woken him. The light from the +electric street lamps shone palely here and there onto the ceiling +and tops of the furniture, but down below, where Gregor was, it was +dark. He pushed himself over to the door, feeling his way clumsily +with his antennae - of which he was now beginning to learn the value +- in order to see what had been happening there. The whole of his +left side seemed like one, painfully stretched scar, and he limped +badly on his two rows of legs. One of the legs had been badly +injured in the events of that morning - it was nearly a miracle that +only one of them had been - and dragged along lifelessly. + +It was only when he had reached the door that he realised what it +actually was that had drawn him over to it; it was the smell of +something to eat. By the door there was a dish filled with +sweetened milk with little pieces of white bread floating in it. He +was so pleased he almost laughed, as he was even hungrier than he +had been that morning, and immediately dipped his head into the +milk, nearly covering his eyes with it. But he soon drew his head +back again in disappointment; not only did the pain in his tender +left side make it difficult to eat the food - he was only able to +eat if his whole body worked together as a snuffling whole - but the +milk did not taste at all nice. Milk like this was normally his +favourite drink, and his sister had certainly left it there for him +because of that, but he turned, almost against his own will, away +from the dish and crawled back into the centre of the room. + +Through the crack in the door, Gregor could see that the gas had +been lit in the living room. His father at this time would normally +be sat with his evening paper, reading it out in a loud voice to +Gregor's mother, and sometimes to his sister, but there was now not +a sound to be heard. Gregor's sister would often write and tell him +about this reading, but maybe his father had lost the habit in +recent times. It was so quiet all around too, even though there +must have been somebody in the flat. "What a quiet life it is the +family lead", said Gregor to himself, and, gazing into the darkness, +felt a great pride that he was able to provide a life like that in +such a nice home for his sister and parents. But what now, if all +this peace and wealth and comfort should come to a horrible and +frightening end? That was something that Gregor did not want to +think about too much, so he started to move about, crawling up and +down the room. + +Once during that long evening, the door on one side of the room was +opened very slightly and hurriedly closed again; later on the door +on the other side did the same; it seemed that someone needed to +enter the room but thought better of it. Gregor went and waited +immediately by the door, resolved either to bring the timorous +visitor into the room in some way or at least to find out who it +was; but the door was opened no more that night and Gregor waited in +vain. The previous morning while the doors were locked everyone had +wanted to get in there to him, but now, now that he had opened up +one of the doors and the other had clearly been unlocked some time +during the day, no-one came, and the keys were in the other sides. + +It was not until late at night that the gaslight in the living room +was put out, and now it was easy to see that his parents and sister had +stayed awake all that time, as they all could be distinctly heard as +they went away together on tip-toe. It was clear that no-one would +come into Gregor's room any more until morning; that gave him plenty +of time to think undisturbed about how he would have to re-arrange +his life. For some reason, the tall, empty room where he was forced +to remain made him feel uneasy as he lay there flat on the floor, +even though he had been living in it for five years. Hardly aware +of what he was doing other than a slight feeling of shame, he +hurried under the couch. It pressed down on his back a little, and +he was no longer able to lift his head, but he nonetheless felt +immediately at ease and his only regret was that his body was too +broad to get it all underneath. + +He spent the whole night there. Some of the time he passed in a +light sleep, although he frequently woke from it in alarm because of +his hunger, and some of the time was spent in worries and vague +hopes which, however, always led to the same conclusion: for the +time being he must remain calm, he must show patience and the +greatest consideration so that his family could bear the +unpleasantness that he, in his present condition, was forced to +impose on them. + +Gregor soon had the opportunity to test the strength of his +decisions, as early the next morning, almost before the night had +ended, his sister, nearly fully dressed, opened the door from the +front room and looked anxiously in. She did not see him straight +away, but when she did notice him under the couch - he had to be +somewhere, for God's sake, he couldn't have flown away - she was so +shocked that she lost control of herself and slammed the door shut +again from outside. But she seemed to regret her behaviour, as she +opened the door again straight away and came in on tip-toe as if +entering the room of someone seriously ill or even of a stranger. +Gregor had pushed his head forward, right to the edge of the couch, +and watched her. Would she notice that he had left the milk as it +was, realise that it was not from any lack of hunger and bring him +in some other food that was more suitable? If she didn't do it +herself he would rather go hungry than draw her attention to it, +although he did feel a terrible urge to rush forward from under the +couch, throw himself at his sister's feet and beg her for something +good to eat. However, his sister noticed the full dish immediately +and looked at it and the few drops of milk splashed around it with +some surprise. She immediately picked it up - using a rag, +not her bare hands - and carried it out. Gregor was extremely +curious as to what she would bring in its place, imagining the +wildest possibilities, but he never could have guessed what his +sister, in her goodness, actually did bring. In order to test his +taste, she brought him a whole selection of things, all spread out +on an old newspaper. There were old, half-rotten vegetables; bones +from the evening meal, covered in white sauce that had gone hard; a +few raisins and almonds; some cheese that Gregor had declared +inedible two days before; a dry roll and some bread spread with +butter and salt. As well as all that she had poured some water into +the dish, which had probably been permanently set aside for Gregor's +use, and placed it beside them. Then, out of consideration for +Gregor's feelings, as she knew that he would not eat in front of +her, she hurried out again and even turned the key in the lock so +that Gregor would know he could make things as comfortable for +himself as he liked. Gregor's little legs whirred, at last he could +eat. What's more, his injuries must already have completely healed +as he found no difficulty in moving. This amazed him, as more than +a month earlier he had cut his finger slightly with a knife, he +thought of how his finger had still hurt the day before yesterday. +"Am I less sensitive than I used to be, then?", he thought, and was +already sucking greedily at the cheese which had immediately, almost +compellingly, attracted him much more than the other foods on the +newspaper. Quickly one after another, his eyes watering with +pleasure, he consumed the cheese, the vegetables and the sauce; the +fresh foods, on the other hand, he didn't like at all, and even +dragged the things he did want to eat a little way away from them +because he couldn't stand the smell. Long after he had finished +eating and lay lethargic in the same place, his sister slowly turned +the key in the lock as a sign to him that he should withdraw. He +was immediately startled, although he had been half asleep, and he +hurried back under the couch. But he needed great self-control to +stay there even for the short time that his sister was in the room, +as eating so much food had rounded out his body a little and he +could hardly breathe in that narrow space. Half suffocating, he +watched with bulging eyes as his sister unselfconsciously took a +broom and swept up the left-overs, mixing them in with the food he +had not even touched at all as if it could not be used any more. +She quickly dropped it all into a bin, closed it with its wooden +lid, and carried everything out. She had hardly turned her back +before Gregor came out again from under the couch and stretched +himself. + +This was how Gregor received his food each day now, once in the +morning while his parents and the maid were still asleep, and the +second time after everyone had eaten their meal at midday as his +parents would sleep for a little while then as well, and Gregor's +sister would send the maid away on some errand. Gregor's father and +mother certainly did not want him to starve either, but perhaps it +would have been more than they could stand to have any more +experience of his feeding than being told about it, and perhaps his +sister wanted to spare them what distress she could as they were +indeed suffering enough. + +It was impossible for Gregor to find out what they had told the +doctor and the locksmith that first morning to get them out of the +flat. As nobody could understand him, nobody, not even his sister, +thought that he could understand them, so he had to be content to +hear his sister's sighs and appeals to the saints as she moved about +his room. It was only later, when she had become a little more used +to everything - there was, of course, no question of her ever +becoming fully used to the situation - that Gregor would sometimes +catch a friendly comment, or at least a comment that could be +construed as friendly. "He's enjoyed his dinner today", she might +say when he had diligently cleared away all the food left for him, +or if he left most of it, which slowly became more and more +frequent, she would often say, sadly, "now everything's just been +left there again". + +Although Gregor wasn't able to hear any news directly he did listen +to much of what was said in the next rooms, and whenever he heard +anyone speaking he would scurry straight to the appropriate door and +press his whole body against it. There was seldom any conversation, +especially at first, that was not about him in some way, even if +only in secret. For two whole days, all the talk at every mealtime +was about what they should do now; but even between meals they spoke +about the same subject as there were always at least two members of +the family at home - nobody wanted to be at home by themselves and +it was out of the question to leave the flat entirely empty. And on +the very first day the maid had fallen to her knees and begged +Gregor's mother to let her go without delay. It was not very clear +how much she knew of what had happened but she left within a quarter +of an hour, tearfully thanking Gregor's mother for her dismissal as +if she had done her an enormous service. She even swore +emphatically not to tell anyone the slightest about what had +happened, even though no-one had asked that of her. + +Now Gregor's sister also had to help his mother with the cooking; +although that was not so much bother as no-one ate very much. +Gregor often heard how one of them would unsuccessfully urge another +to eat, and receive no more answer than "no thanks, I've had enough" +or something similar. No-one drank very much either. His sister +would sometimes ask his father whether he would like a beer, hoping +for the chance to go and fetch it herself. When his father then +said nothing she would add, so that he would not feel selfish, that +she could send the housekeeper for it, but then his father would +close the matter with a big, loud "No", and no more would be said. + +Even before the first day had come to an end, his father had +explained to Gregor's mother and sister what their finances and +prospects were. Now and then he stood up from the table and took +some receipt or document from the little cash box he had saved from +his business when it had collapsed five years earlier. Gregor heard +how he opened the complicated lock and then closed it again after he +had taken the item he wanted. What he heard his father say was some +of the first good news that Gregor heard since he had first been +incarcerated in his room. He had thought that nothing at all +remained from his father's business, at least he had never told him +anything different, and Gregor had never asked him about it anyway. +Their business misfortune had reduced the family to a state of total +despair, and Gregor's only concern at that time had been to arrange +things so that they could all forget about it as quickly as +possible. So then he started working especially hard, with a fiery +vigour that raised him from a junior salesman to a travelling +representative almost overnight, bringing with it the chance to earn +money in quite different ways. Gregor converted his success at work +straight into cash that he could lay on the table at home for the +benefit of his astonished and delighted family. They had been good +times and they had never come again, at least not with the same +splendour, even though Gregor had later earned so much that he was +in a position to bear the costs of the whole family, and did bear +them. They had even got used to it, both Gregor and the family, +they took the money with gratitude and he was glad to provide it, +although there was no longer much warm affection given in return. +Gregor only remained close to his sister now. Unlike him, she was +very fond of music and a gifted and expressive violinist, it was his +secret plan to send her to the conservatory next year even though it +would cause great expense that would have to be made up for in some +other way. During Gregor's short periods in town, conversation with +his sister would often turn to the conservatory but it was only ever +mentioned as a lovely dream that could never be realised. Their +parents did not like to hear this innocent talk, but Gregor thought +about it quite hard and decided he would let them know what he +planned with a grand announcement of it on Christmas day. + +That was the sort of totally pointless thing that went through his +mind in his present state, pressed upright against the door and +listening. There were times when he simply became too tired to +continue listening, when his head would fall wearily against the +door and he would pull it up again with a start, as even the +slightest noise he caused would be heard next door and they would +all go silent. "What's that he's doing now", his father would say +after a while, clearly having gone over to the door, and only then +would the interrupted conversation slowly be taken up again. + +When explaining things, his father repeated himself several times, +partly because it was a long time since he had been occupied with +these matters himself and partly because Gregor's mother did not +understand everything the first time. From these repeated explanations +Gregor learned, to his pleasure, that despite all their misfortunes +there was still some money available from the old days. It was not +a lot, but it had not been touched in the meantime and some interest +had accumulated. Besides that, they had not been using up all the +money that Gregor had been bringing home every month, keeping only a +little for himself, so that that, too, had been accumulating. +Behind the door, Gregor nodded with enthusiasm in his pleasure at +this unexpected thrift and caution. He could actually have used +this surplus money to reduce his father's debt to his boss, and the +day when he could have freed himself from that job would have come +much closer, but now it was certainly better the way his father had +done things. + +This money, however, was certainly not enough to enable the family +to live off the interest; it was enough to maintain them for, +perhaps, one or two years, no more. That's to say, it was money +that should not really be touched but set aside for emergencies; +money to live on had to be earned. His father was healthy but old, +and lacking in self confidence. During the five years that he had +not been working - the first holiday in a life that had been full of +strain and no success - he had put on a lot of weight and become +very slow and clumsy. Would Gregor's elderly mother now have to go +and earn money? She suffered from asthma and it was a strain for her +just to move about the home, every other day would be spent +struggling for breath on the sofa by the open window. Would his +sister have to go and earn money? She was still a child of +seventeen, her life up till then had been very enviable, consisting +of wearing nice clothes, sleeping late, helping out in the business, +joining in with a few modest pleasures and most of all playing the +violin. Whenever they began to talk of the need to earn money, +Gregor would always first let go of the door and then throw himself +onto the cool, leather sofa next to it, as he became quite hot with +shame and regret. + +He would often lie there the whole night through, not sleeping a +wink but scratching at the leather for hours on end. Or he might go +to all the effort of pushing a chair to the window, climbing up onto +the sill and, propped up in the chair, leaning on the window to +stare out of it. He had used to feel a great sense of freedom from +doing this, but doing it now was obviously something more remembered +than experienced, as what he actually saw in this way was becoming +less distinct every day, even things that were quite near; he had +used to curse the ever-present view of the hospital across the +street, but now he could not see it at all, and if he had not known +that he lived in Charlottenstrasse, which was a quiet street despite +being in the middle of the city, he could have thought that he was +looking out the window at a barren waste where the grey sky and the +grey earth mingled inseparably. His observant sister only needed to +notice the chair twice before she would always push it back to its +exact position by the window after she had tidied up the room, and +even left the inner pane of the window open from then on. + +If Gregor had only been able to speak to his sister and thank her +for all that she had to do for him it would have been easier for him +to bear it; but as it was it caused him pain. His sister, +naturally, tried as far as possible to pretend there was nothing +burdensome about it, and the longer it went on, of course, the +better she was able to do so, but as time went by Gregor was also +able to see through it all so much better. It had even become very +unpleasant for him, now, whenever she entered the room. No sooner +had she come in than she would quickly close the door as a +precaution so that no-one would have to suffer the view into +Gregor's room, then she would go straight to the window and pull it +hurriedly open almost as if she were suffocating. Even if it was +cold, she would stay at the window breathing deeply for a little +while. She would alarm Gregor twice a day with this running about +and noise making; he would stay under the couch shivering the whole +while, knowing full well that she would certainly have liked to +spare him this ordeal, but it was impossible for her to be in the +same room with him with the windows closed. + +One day, about a month after Gregor's transformation when his sister +no longer had any particular reason to be shocked at his appearance, +she came into the room a little earlier than usual and found him +still staring out the window, motionless, and just where he would be +most horrible. In itself, his sister's not coming into the room +would have been no surprise for Gregor as it would have been +difficult for her to immediately open the window while he was still +there, but not only did she not come in, she went straight back and +closed the door behind her, a stranger would have thought he had +threatened her and tried to bite her. Gregor went straight to hide +himself under the couch, of course, but he had to wait until midday +before his sister came back and she seemed much more uneasy than +usual. It made him realise that she still found his appearance +unbearable and would continue to do so, she probably even had to +overcome the urge to flee when she saw the little bit of him that +protruded from under the couch. One day, in order to spare her even +this sight, he spent four hours carrying the bedsheet over to the +couch on his back and arranged it so that he was completely covered +and his sister would not be able to see him even if she bent down. +If she did not think this sheet was necessary then all she had to do +was take it off again, as it was clear enough that it was no +pleasure for Gregor to cut himself off so completely. She left the +sheet where it was. Gregor even thought he glimpsed a look of +gratitude one time when he carefully looked out from under the sheet +to see how his sister liked the new arrangement. + +For the first fourteen days, Gregor's parents could not bring +themselves to come into the room to see him. He would often hear +them say how they appreciated all the new work his sister was doing +even though, before, they had seen her as a girl who was somewhat +useless and frequently been annoyed with her. But now the two of +them, father and mother, would often both wait outside the door of +Gregor's room while his sister tidied up in there, and as soon as +she went out again she would have to tell them exactly how +everything looked, what Gregor had eaten, how he had behaved this +time and whether, perhaps, any slight improvement could be seen. +His mother also wanted to go in and visit Gregor relatively soon but +his father and sister at first persuaded her against it. Gregor +listened very closely to all this, and approved fully. Later, +though, she had to be held back by force, which made her call out: +"Let me go and see Gregor, he is my unfortunate son! Can't you +understand I have to see him?", and Gregor would think to himself +that maybe it would be better if his mother came in, not every day +of course, but one day a week, perhaps; she could understand +everything much better than his sister who, for all her courage, was +still just a child after all, and really might not have had an +adult's appreciation of the burdensome job she had taken on. + +Gregor's wish to see his mother was soon realised. Out of +consideration for his parents, Gregor wanted to avoid being seen at +the window during the day, the few square meters of the floor did +not give him much room to crawl about, it was hard to just lie +quietly through the night, his food soon stopped giving him any +pleasure at all, and so, to entertain himself, he got into the habit +of crawling up and down the walls and ceiling. He was especially +fond of hanging from the ceiling; it was quite different from lying +on the floor; he could breathe more freely; his body had a light +swing to it; and up there, relaxed and almost happy, it might happen +that he would surprise even himself by letting go of the ceiling and +landing on the floor with a crash. But now, of course, he had far +better control of his body than before and, even with a fall as +great as that, caused himself no damage. Very soon his sister +noticed Gregor's new way of entertaining himself - he had, after +all, left traces of the adhesive from his feet as he crawled about - +and got it into her head to make it as easy as possible for him by +removing the furniture that got in his way, especially the chest of +drawers and the desk. Now, this was not something that she would be +able to do by herself; she did not dare to ask for help from her +father; the sixteen year old maid had carried on bravely since the +cook had left but she certainly would not have helped in this, she +had even asked to be allowed to keep the kitchen locked at all times +and never to have to open the door unless it was especially +important; so his sister had no choice but to choose some time when +Gregor's father was not there and fetch his mother to help her. As +she approached the room, Gregor could hear his mother express her +joy, but once at the door she went silent. First, of course, his +sister came in and looked round to see that everything in the room +was alright; and only then did she let her mother enter. Gregor had +hurriedly pulled the sheet down lower over the couch and put more +folds into it so that everything really looked as if it had just +been thrown down by chance. Gregor also refrained, this time, from +spying out from under the sheet; he gave up the chance to see his +mother until later and was simply glad that she had come. "You can +come in, he can't be seen", said his sister, obviously leading her +in by the hand. The old chest of drawers was too heavy for a pair +of feeble women to be heaving about, but Gregor listened as they +pushed it from its place, his sister always taking on the heaviest +part of the work for herself and ignoring her mother's warnings that +she would strain herself. This lasted a very long time. After +labouring at it for fifteen minutes or more his mother said it would +be better to leave the chest where it was, for one thing it was too +heavy for them to get the job finished before Gregor's father got +home and leaving it in the middle of the room it would be in his way +even more, and for another thing it wasn't even sure that taking the +furniture away would really be any help to him. She thought just +the opposite; the sight of the bare walls saddened her right to her +heart; and why wouldn't Gregor feel the same way about it, he'd been +used to this furniture in his room for a long time and it would make +him feel abandoned to be in an empty room like that. Then, quietly, +almost whispering as if wanting Gregor (whose whereabouts she did +not know) to hear not even the tone of her voice, as she was +convinced that he did not understand her words, she added "and by +taking the furniture away, won't it seem like we're showing that +we've given up all hope of improvement and we're abandoning him to +cope for himself? I think it'd be best to leave the room exactly the +way it was before so that when Gregor comes back to us again he'll +find everything unchanged and he'll be able to forget the time in +between all the easier". + +Hearing these words from his mother made Gregor realise that the +lack of any direct human communication, along with the monotonous +life led by the family during these two months, must have made him +confused - he could think of no other way of explaining to himself +why he had seriously wanted his room emptied out. Had he really +wanted to transform his room into a cave, a warm room fitted out +with the nice furniture he had inherited? That would have let him +crawl around unimpeded in any direction, but it would also have let +him quickly forget his past when he had still been human. He had +come very close to forgetting, and it had only been the voice of his +mother, unheard for so long, that had shaken him out of it. Nothing +should be removed; everything had to stay; he could not do without +the good influence the furniture had on his condition; and if the +furniture made it difficult for him to crawl about mindlessly that +was not a loss but a great advantage. + +His sister, unfortunately, did not agree; she had become used to the +idea, not without reason, that she was Gregor's spokesman to his +parents about the things that concerned him. This meant that his +mother's advice now was sufficient reason for her to insist on +removing not only the chest of drawers and the desk, as she had +thought at first, but all the furniture apart from the all-important +couch. It was more than childish perversity, of course, or the +unexpected confidence she had recently acquired, that made her +insist; she had indeed noticed that Gregor needed a lot of room to +crawl about in, whereas the furniture, as far as anyone could see, +was of no use to him at all. Girls of that age, though, do become +enthusiastic about things and feel they must get their way whenever +they can. Perhaps this was what tempted Grete to make Gregor's +situation seem even more shocking than it was so that she could do +even more for him. Grete would probably be the only one who would +dare enter a room dominated by Gregor crawling about the bare walls +by himself. + +So she refused to let her mother dissuade her. Gregor's mother +already looked uneasy in his room, she soon stopped speaking and +helped Gregor's sister to get the chest of drawers out with what +strength she had. The chest of drawers was something that Gregor +could do without if he had to, but the writing desk had to stay. +Hardly had the two women pushed the chest of drawers, groaning, out +of the room than Gregor poked his head out from under the couch to +see what he could do about it. He meant to be as careful and +considerate as he could, but, unfortunately, it was his mother who +came back first while Grete in the next room had her arms round the +chest, pushing and pulling at it from side to side by herself +without, of course, moving it an inch. His mother was not used to +the sight of Gregor, he might have made her ill, so Gregor hurried +backwards to the far end of the couch. In his startlement, though, +he was not able to prevent the sheet at its front from moving a +little. It was enough to attract his mother's attention. She stood +very still, remained there a moment, and then went back out to +Grete. + +Gregor kept trying to assure himself that nothing unusual was +happening, it was just a few pieces of furniture being moved after +all, but he soon had to admit that the women going to and fro, their +little calls to each other, the scraping of the furniture on the +floor, all these things made him feel as if he were being assailed +from all sides. With his head and legs pulled in against him and +his body pressed to the floor, he was forced to admit to himself +that he could not stand all of this much longer. They were emptying +his room out; taking away everything that was dear to him; they had +already taken out the chest containing his fretsaw and other tools; +now they threatened to remove the writing desk with its place +clearly worn into the floor, the desk where he had done his homework +as a business trainee, at high school, even while he had been at +infant school--he really could not wait any longer to see whether +the two women's intentions were good. He had nearly forgotten they +were there anyway, as they were now too tired to say anything while +they worked and he could only hear their feet as they stepped +heavily on the floor. + +So, while the women were leant against the desk in the other room +catching their breath, he sallied out, changed direction four times +not knowing what he should save first before his attention was +suddenly caught by the picture on the wall - which was already +denuded of everything else that had been on it - of the lady dressed +in copious fur. He hurried up onto the picture and pressed himself +against its glass, it held him firmly and felt good on his hot +belly. This picture at least, now totally covered by Gregor, would +certainly be taken away by no-one. He turned his head to face the +door into the living room so that he could watch the women when they +came back. + +They had not allowed themselves a long rest and came back quite +soon; Grete had put her arm around her mother and was nearly +carrying her. "What shall we take now, then?", said Grete and +looked around. Her eyes met those of Gregor on the wall. Perhaps +only because her mother was there, she remained calm, bent her face +to her so that she would not look round and said, albeit hurriedly +and with a tremor in her voice: "Come on, let's go back in the +living room for a while?" Gregor could see what Grete had in mind, +she wanted to take her mother somewhere safe and then chase him down +from the wall. Well, she could certainly try it! He sat unyielding +on his picture. He would rather jump at Grete's face. + +But Grete's words had made her mother quite worried, she stepped to +one side, saw the enormous brown patch against the flowers of the +wallpaper, and before she even realised it was Gregor that she saw +screamed: "Oh God, oh God!" Arms outstretched, she fell onto the +couch as if she had given up everything and stayed there immobile. +"Gregor!" shouted his sister, glowering at him and shaking her fist. + That was the first word she had spoken to him directly since his +transformation. She ran into the other room to fetch some kind of +smelling salts to bring her mother out of her faint; Gregor wanted +to help too - he could save his picture later, although he stuck +fast to the glass and had to pull himself off by force; then he, +too, ran into the next room as if he could advise his sister like in +the old days; but he had to just stand behind her doing nothing; she +was looking into various bottles, he startled her when she turned +round; a bottle fell to the ground and broke; a splinter cut +Gregor's face, some kind of caustic medicine splashed all over him; +now, without delaying any longer, Grete took hold of all the bottles +she could and ran with them in to her mother; she slammed the door +shut with her foot. So now Gregor was shut out from his mother, +who, because of him, might be near to death; he could not open the +door if he did not want to chase his sister away, and she had to +stay with his mother; there was nothing for him to do but wait; and, +oppressed with anxiety and self-reproach, he began to crawl about, +he crawled over everything, walls, furniture, ceiling, and finally +in his confusion as the whole room began to spin around him he fell +down into the middle of the dinner table. + +He lay there for a while, numb and immobile, all around him it was +quiet, maybe that was a good sign. Then there was someone at the +door. The maid, of course, had locked herself in her kitchen so +that Grete would have to go and answer it. His father had arrived +home. "What's happened?" were his first words; Grete's appearance +must have made everything clear to him. She answered him with +subdued voice, and openly pressed her face into his chest: "Mother's +fainted, but she's better now. Gregor got out." "Just as I +expected", said his father, "just as I always said, but you women +wouldn't listen, would you." It was clear to Gregor that Grete had +not said enough and that his father took it to mean that something +bad had happened, that he was responsible for some act of violence. +That meant Gregor would now have to try to calm his father, as he +did not have the time to explain things to him even if that had been +possible. So he fled to the door of his room and pressed himself +against it so that his father, when he came in from the hall, could +see straight away that Gregor had the best intentions and would go +back into his room without delay, that it would not be necessary to +drive him back but that they had only to open the door and he would +disappear. + +His father, though, was not in the mood to notice subtleties like +that; "Ah!", he shouted as he came in, sounding as if he were both +angry and glad at the same time. Gregor drew his head back from the +door and lifted it towards his father. He really had not imagined +his father the way he stood there now; of late, with his new habit +of crawling about, he had neglected to pay attention to what was +going on the rest of the flat the way he had done before. He really +ought to have expected things to have changed, but still, still, was +that really his father? The same tired man as used to be laying +there entombed in his bed when Gregor came back from his business +trips, who would receive him sitting in the armchair in his +nightgown when he came back in the evenings; who was hardly even +able to stand up but, as a sign of his pleasure, would just raise +his arms and who, on the couple of times a year when they went for a +walk together on a Sunday or public holiday wrapped up tightly in +his overcoat between Gregor and his mother, would always labour his +way forward a little more slowly than them, who were already walking +slowly for his sake; who would place his stick down carefully and, +if he wanted to say something would invariably stop and gather his +companions around him. He was standing up straight enough now; +dressed in a smart blue uniform with gold buttons, the sort worn by +the employees at the banking institute; above the high, stiff collar +of the coat his strong double-chin emerged; under the bushy +eyebrows, his piercing, dark eyes looked out fresh and alert; his +normally unkempt white hair was combed down painfully close to his +scalp. He took his cap, with its gold monogram from, probably, some +bank, and threw it in an arc right across the room onto the sofa, +put his hands in his trouser pockets, pushing back the bottom of his +long uniform coat, and, with look of determination, walked towards +Gregor. He probably did not even know himself what he had in mind, +but nonetheless lifted his feet unusually high. Gregor was amazed +at the enormous size of the soles of his boots, but wasted no time +with that - he knew full well, right from the first day of his new +life, that his father thought it necessary to always be extremely +strict with him. And so he ran up to his father, stopped when his +father stopped, scurried forwards again when he moved, even +slightly. In this way they went round the room several times +without anything decisive happening, without even giving the +impression of a chase as everything went so slowly. Gregor remained +all this time on the floor, largely because he feared his father +might see it as especially provoking if he fled onto the wall or +ceiling. Whatever he did, Gregor had to admit that he certainly +would not be able to keep up this running about for long, as for +each step his father took he had to carry out countless movements. +He became noticeably short of breath, even in his earlier life his +lungs had not been very reliable. Now, as he lurched about in his +efforts to muster all the strength he could for running he could +hardly keep his eyes open; his thoughts became too slow for him to +think of any other way of saving himself than running; he almost +forgot that the walls were there for him to use although, here, they +were concealed behind carefully carved furniture full of notches and +protrusions - then, right beside him, lightly tossed, something flew +down and rolled in front of him. It was an apple; then another one +immediately flew at him; Gregor froze in shock; there was no longer +any point in running as his father had decided to bombard him. He +had filled his pockets with fruit from the bowl on the sideboard and +now, without even taking the time for careful aim, threw one apple +after another. These little, red apples rolled about on the floor, +knocking into each other as if they had electric motors. An apple +thrown without much force glanced against Gregor's back and slid off +without doing any harm. Another one however, immediately following +it, hit squarely and lodged in his back; Gregor wanted to drag +himself away, as if he could remove the surprising, the incredible +pain by changing his position; but he felt as if nailed to the spot +and spread himself out, all his senses in confusion. The last thing +he saw was the door of his room being pulled open, his sister was +screaming, his mother ran out in front of her in her blouse (as his +sister had taken off some of her clothes after she had fainted to +make it easier for her to breathe), she ran to his father, her +skirts unfastened and sliding one after another to the ground, +stumbling over the skirts she pushed herself to his father, her arms +around him, uniting herself with him totally - now Gregor lost his +ability to see anything - her hands behind his father's head begging +him to spare Gregor's life. + + + +III + + +No-one dared to remove the apple lodged in Gregor's flesh, so it +remained there as a visible reminder of his injury. He had suffered +it there for more than a month, and his condition seemed serious +enough to remind even his father that Gregor, despite his current +sad and revolting form, was a family member who could not be treated +as an enemy. On the contrary, as a family there was a duty to +swallow any revulsion for him and to be patient, just to be patient. + +Because of his injuries, Gregor had lost much of his mobility - +probably permanently. He had been reduced to the condition of an +ancient invalid and it took him long, long minutes to crawl across +his room - crawling over the ceiling was out of the question - but +this deterioration in his condition was fully (in his opinion) made +up for by the door to the living room being left open every evening. + He got into the habit of closely watching it for one or two hours +before it was opened and then, lying in the darkness of his room +where he could not be seen from the living room, he could watch the +family in the light of the dinner table and listen to their +conversation - with everyone's permission, in a way, and thus quite +differently from before. + +They no longer held the lively conversations of earlier times, of +course, the ones that Gregor always thought about with longing when +he was tired and getting into the damp bed in some small hotel room. + All of them were usually very quiet nowadays. Soon after dinner, +his father would go to sleep in his chair; his mother and sister +would urge each other to be quiet; his mother, bent deeply under the +lamp, would sew fancy underwear for a fashion shop; his sister, who +had taken a sales job, learned shorthand and French in the evenings +so that she might be able to get a better position later on. +Sometimes his father would wake up and say to Gregor's mother +"you're doing so much sewing again today!", as if he did not know +that he had been dozing - and then he would go back to sleep again +while mother and sister would exchange a tired grin. + +With a kind of stubbornness, Gregor's father refused to take his +uniform off even at home; while his nightgown hung unused on its peg +Gregor's father would slumber where he was, fully dressed, as if +always ready to serve and expecting to hear the voice of his +superior even here. The uniform had not been new to start with, but +as a result of this it slowly became even shabbier despite the +efforts of Gregor's mother and sister to look after it. Gregor +would often spend the whole evening looking at all the stains on +this coat, with its gold buttons always kept polished and shiny, +while the old man in it would sleep, highly uncomfortable but +peaceful. + +As soon as it struck ten, Gregor's mother would speak gently to his +father to wake him and try to persuade him to go to bed, as he +couldn't sleep properly where he was and he really had to get his +sleep if he was to be up at six to get to work. But since he had +been in work he had become more obstinate and would always insist on +staying longer at the table, even though he regularly fell asleep +and it was then harder than ever to persuade him to exchange the +chair for his bed. Then, however much mother and sister would +importune him with little reproaches and warnings he would keep +slowly shaking his head for a quarter of an hour with his eyes +closed and refusing to get up. Gregor's mother would tug at his +sleeve, whisper endearments into his ear, Gregor's sister would +leave her work to help her mother, but nothing would have any effect +on him. He would just sink deeper into his chair. Only when the +two women took him under the arms he would abruptly open his eyes, +look at them one after the other and say: "What a life! This is what +peace I get in my old age!" And supported by the two women he would +lift himself up carefully as if he were carrying the greatest load +himself, let the women take him to the door, send them off and carry +on by himself while Gregor's mother would throw down her needle and +his sister her pen so that they could run after his father and +continue being of help to him. + +Who, in this tired and overworked family, would have had time to +give more attention to Gregor than was absolutely necessary? The +household budget became even smaller; so now the maid was dismissed; +an enormous, thick-boned charwoman with white hair that flapped +around her head came every morning and evening to do the heaviest +work; everything else was looked after by Gregor's mother on top of +the large amount of sewing work she did. Gregor even learned, +listening to the evening conversation about what price they had +hoped for, that several items of jewellery belonging to the family +had been sold, even though both mother and sister had been very fond +of wearing them at functions and celebrations. But the loudest +complaint was that although the flat was much too big for their +present circumstances, they could not move out of it, there was no +imaginable way of transferring Gregor to the new address. He could +see quite well, though, that there were more reasons than +consideration for him that made it difficult for them to move, it +would have been quite easy to transport him in any suitable crate +with a few air holes in it; the main thing holding the family back +from their decision to move was much more to do with their total +despair, and the thought that they had been struck with a misfortune +unlike anything experienced by anyone else they knew or were related +to. They carried out absolutely everything that the world expects +from poor people, Gregor's father brought bank employees their +breakfast, his mother sacrificed herself by washing clothes for +strangers, his sister ran back and forth behind her desk at the +behest of the customers, but they just did not have the strength to +do any more. And the injury in Gregor's back began to hurt as much +as when it was new. After they had come back from taking his father +to bed Gregor's mother and sister would now leave their work where +it was and sit close together, cheek to cheek; his mother would +point to Gregor's room and say "Close that door, Grete", and then, +when he was in the dark again, they would sit in the next room and +their tears would mingle, or they would simply sit there staring +dry-eyed at the table. + +Gregor hardly slept at all, either night or day. Sometimes he would +think of taking over the family's affairs, just like before, the +next time the door was opened; he had long forgotten about his boss +and the chief clerk, but they would appear again in his thoughts, +the salesmen and the apprentices, that stupid teaboy, two or three +friends from other businesses, one of the chambermaids from a +provincial hotel, a tender memory that appeared and disappeared +again, a cashier from a hat shop for whom his attention had been +serious but too slow, - all of them appeared to him, mixed together +with strangers and others he had forgotten, but instead of helping +him and his family they were all of them inaccessible, and he was +glad when they disappeared. Other times he was not at all in the +mood to look after his family, he was filled with simple rage about +the lack of attention he was shown, and although he could think of +nothing he would have wanted, he made plans of how he could get into +the pantry where he could take all the things he was entitled to, +even if he was not hungry. Gregor's sister no longer thought about +how she could please him but would hurriedly push some food or other +into his room with her foot before she rushed out to work in the +morning and at midday, and in the evening she would sweep it away +again with the broom, indifferent as to whether it had been eaten or +- more often than not - had been left totally untouched. She still +cleared up the room in the evening, but now she could not have been +any quicker about it. Smears of dirt were left on the walls, here +and there were little balls of dust and filth. At first, Gregor +went into one of the worst of these places when his sister arrived +as a reproach to her, but he could have stayed there for weeks +without his sister doing anything about it; she could see the dirt +as well as he could but she had simply decided to leave him to it. +At the same time she became touchy in a way that was quite new for +her and which everyone in the family understood - cleaning up +Gregor's room was for her and her alone. Gregor's mother did once +thoroughly clean his room, and needed to use several bucketfuls of +water to do it - although that much dampness also made Gregor ill +and he lay flat on the couch, bitter and immobile. But his mother +was to be punished still more for what she had done, as hardly had +his sister arrived home in the evening than she noticed the change +in Gregor's room and, highly aggrieved, ran back into the living +room where, despite her mothers raised and imploring hands, she +broke into convulsive tears. Her father, of course, was startled +out of his chair and the two parents looked on astonished and +helpless; then they, too, became agitated; Gregor's father, standing +to the right of his mother, accused her of not leaving the cleaning +of Gregor's room to his sister; from her left, Gregor's sister +screamed at her that she was never to clean Gregor's room again; +while his mother tried to draw his father, who was beside himself +with anger, into the bedroom; his sister, quaking with tears, +thumped on the table with her small fists; and Gregor hissed in +anger that no-one had even thought of closing the door to save him +the sight of this and all its noise. + +Gregor's sister was exhausted from going out to work, and looking +after Gregor as she had done before was even more work for her, but +even so his mother ought certainly not to have taken her place. +Gregor, on the other hand, ought not to be neglected. Now, though, +the charwoman was here. This elderly widow, with a robust bone +structure that made her able to withstand the hardest of things in +her long life, wasn't really repelled by Gregor. Just by chance one +day, rather than any real curiosity, she opened the door to Gregor's +room and found herself face to face with him. He was taken totally +by surprise, no-one was chasing him but he began to rush to and fro +while she just stood there in amazement with her hands crossed in +front of her. From then on she never failed to open the door +slightly every evening and morning and look briefly in on him. At +first she would call to him as she did so with words that she +probably considered friendly, such as "come on then, you old +dung-beetle!", or "look at the old dung-beetle there!" Gregor never +responded to being spoken to in that way, but just remained where he +was without moving as if the door had never even been opened. If +only they had told this charwoman to clean up his room every day +instead of letting her disturb him for no reason whenever she felt +like it! One day, early in the morning while a heavy rain struck the +windowpanes, perhaps indicating that spring was coming, she began to +speak to him in that way once again. Gregor was so resentful of it +that he started to move toward her, he was slow and infirm, but it +was like a kind of attack. Instead of being afraid, the charwoman +just lifted up one of the chairs from near the door and stood there +with her mouth open, clearly intending not to close her mouth until +the chair in her hand had been slammed down into Gregor's back. +"Aren't you coming any closer, then?", she asked when Gregor turned +round again, and she calmly put the chair back in the corner. + +Gregor had almost entirely stopped eating. Only if he happened to +find himself next to the food that had been prepared for him he +might take some of it into his mouth to play with it, leave it there +a few hours and then, more often than not, spit it out again. At +first he thought it was distress at the state of his room that +stopped him eating, but he had soon got used to the changes made +there. They had got into the habit of putting things into this room +that they had no room for anywhere else, and there were now many +such things as one of the rooms in the flat had been rented out to +three gentlemen. These earnest gentlemen - all three of them had +full beards, as Gregor learned peering through the crack in the door +one day - were painfully insistent on things' being tidy. This +meant not only in their own room but, since they had taken a room in +this establishment, in the entire flat and especially in the +kitchen. Unnecessary clutter was something they could not tolerate, +especially if it was dirty. They had moreover brought most of their +own furnishings and equipment with them. For this reason, many +things had become superfluous which, although they could not be +sold, the family did not wish to discard. All these things found +their way into Gregor's room. The dustbins from the kitchen found +their way in there too. The charwoman was always in a hurry, and +anything she couldn't use for the time being she would just chuck in +there. He, fortunately, would usually see no more than the object +and the hand that held it. The woman most likely meant to fetch the +things back out again when she had time and the opportunity, or to +throw everything out in one go, but what actually happened was that +they were left where they landed when they had first been thrown +unless Gregor made his way through the junk and moved it somewhere +else. At first he moved it because, with no other room free where +he could crawl about, he was forced to, but later on he came to +enjoy it although moving about in that way left him sad and tired to +death and he would remain immobile for hours afterwards. + +The gentlemen who rented the room would sometimes take their evening +meal at home in the living room that was used by everyone, and so +the door to this room was often kept closed in the evening. But +Gregor found it easy to give up having the door open, he had, after +all, often failed to make use of it when it was open and, without +the family having noticed it, lain in his room in its darkest +corner. One time, though, the charwoman left the door to the living +room slightly open, and it remained open when the gentlemen who +rented the room came in in the evening and the light was put on. +They sat up at the table where, formerly, Gregor had taken his meals +with his father and mother, they unfolded the serviettes and picked +up their knives and forks. Gregor's mother immediately appeared in +the doorway with a dish of meat and soon behind her came his sister +with a dish piled high with potatoes. The food was steaming, and +filled the room with its smell. The gentlemen bent over the dishes +set in front of them as if they wanted to test the food before +eating it, and the gentleman in the middle, who seemed to count as +an authority for the other two, did indeed cut off a piece of meat +while it was still in its dish, clearly wishing to establish whether +it was sufficiently cooked or whether it should be sent back to the +kitchen. It was to his satisfaction, and Gregor's mother and +sister, who had been looking on anxiously, began to breathe again +and smiled. + +The family themselves ate in the kitchen. Nonetheless, Gregor's +father came into the living room before he went into the kitchen, +bowed once with his cap in his hand and did his round of the table. +The gentlemen stood as one, and mumbled something into their beards. + Then, once they were alone, they ate in near perfect silence. It +seemed remarkable to Gregor that above all the various noises of +eating their chewing teeth could still be heard, as if they had +wanted to show Gregor that you need teeth in order to eat and it was +not possible to perform anything with jaws that are toothless +however nice they might be. "I'd like to eat something", said +Gregor anxiously, "but not anything like they're eating. They do +feed themselves. And here I am, dying!" + +Throughout all this time, Gregor could not remember having heard the +violin being played, but this evening it began to be heard from the +kitchen. The three gentlemen had already finished their meal, the +one in the middle had produced a newspaper, given a page to each of +the others, and now they leant back in their chairs reading them and +smoking. When the violin began playing they became attentive, stood +up and went on tip-toe over to the door of the hallway where they +stood pressed against each other. Someone must have heard them in +the kitchen, as Gregor's father called out: "Is the playing perhaps +unpleasant for the gentlemen? We can stop it straight away." "On +the contrary", said the middle gentleman, "would the young lady not +like to come in and play for us here in the room, where it is, after +all, much more cosy and comfortable?" "Oh yes, we'd love to", +called back Gregor's father as if he had been the violin player +himself. The gentlemen stepped back into the room and waited. +Gregor's father soon appeared with the music stand, his mother with +the music and his sister with the violin. She calmly prepared +everything for her to begin playing; his parents, who had never +rented a room out before and therefore showed an exaggerated +courtesy towards the three gentlemen, did not even dare to sit on +their own chairs; his father leant against the door with his right +hand pushed in between two buttons on his uniform coat; his mother, +though, was offered a seat by one of the gentlemen and sat - leaving +the chair where the gentleman happened to have placed it - out of +the way in a corner. + +His sister began to play; father and mother paid close attention, +one on each side, to the movements of her hands. Drawn in by the +playing, Gregor had dared to come forward a little and already had +his head in the living room. Before, he had taken great pride in +how considerate he was but now it hardly occurred to him that he had +become so thoughtless about the others. What's more, there was now +all the more reason to keep himself hidden as he was covered in the +dust that lay everywhere in his room and flew up at the slightest +movement; he carried threads, hairs, and remains of food about on +his back and sides; he was much too indifferent to everything now to +lay on his back and wipe himself on the carpet like he had used to +do several times a day. And despite this condition, he was not too +shy to move forward a little onto the immaculate floor of the living +room. + +No-one noticed him, though. The family was totally preoccupied with +the violin playing; at first, the three gentlemen had put their +hands in their pockets and come up far too close behind the music +stand to look at all the notes being played, and they must have +disturbed Gregor's sister, but soon, in contrast with the family, +they withdrew back to the window with their heads sunk and talking +to each other at half volume, and they stayed by the window while +Gregor's father observed them anxiously. It really now seemed very +obvious that they had expected to hear some beautiful or +entertaining violin playing but had been disappointed, that they had +had enough of the whole performance and it was only now out of +politeness that they allowed their peace to be disturbed. It was +especially unnerving, the way they all blew the smoke from their +cigarettes upwards from their mouth and noses. Yet Gregor's sister +was playing so beautifully. Her face was leant to one side, +following the lines of music with a careful and melancholy +expression. Gregor crawled a little further forward, keeping his +head close to the ground so that he could meet her eyes if the +chance came. Was he an animal if music could captivate him so? It +seemed to him that he was being shown the way to the unknown +nourishment he had been yearning for. He was determined to make his +way forward to his sister and tug at her skirt to show her she might +come into his room with her violin, as no-one appreciated her +playing here as much as he would. He never wanted to let her out of +his room, not while he lived, anyway; his shocking appearance +should, for once, be of some use to him; he wanted to be at every +door of his room at once to hiss and spit at the attackers; his +sister should not be forced to stay with him, though, but stay of +her own free will; she would sit beside him on the couch with her +ear bent down to him while he told her how he had always intended to +send her to the conservatory, how he would have told everyone about +it last Christmas - had Christmas really come and gone already? - if +this misfortune hadn't got in the way, and refuse to let anyone +dissuade him from it. On hearing all this, his sister would break +out in tears of emotion, and Gregor would climb up to her shoulder +and kiss her neck, which, since she had been going out to work, she +had kept free without any necklace or collar. + +"Mr. Samsa!", shouted the middle gentleman to Gregor's father, +pointing, without wasting any more words, with his forefinger at +Gregor as he slowly moved forward. The violin went silent, the +middle of the three gentlemen first smiled at his two friends, +shaking his head, and then looked back at Gregor. His father seemed +to think it more important to calm the three gentlemen before +driving Gregor out, even though they were not at all upset and +seemed to think Gregor was more entertaining than the violin playing +had been. He rushed up to them with his arms spread out and +attempted to drive them back into their room at the same time as +trying to block their view of Gregor with his body. Now they did +become a little annoyed, and it was not clear whether it was his +father's behaviour that annoyed them or the dawning realisation that +they had had a neighbour like Gregor in the next room without +knowing it. They asked Gregor's father for explanations, raised +their arms like he had, tugged excitedly at their beards and moved +back towards their room only very slowly. Meanwhile Gregor's sister +had overcome the despair she had fallen into when her playing was +suddenly interrupted. She had let her hands drop and let violin and +bow hang limply for a while but continued to look at the music as if +still playing, but then she suddenly pulled herself together, lay +the instrument on her mother's lap who still sat laboriously +struggling for breath where she was, and ran into the next room +which, under pressure from her father, the three gentlemen were more +quickly moving toward. Under his sister's experienced hand, the +pillows and covers on the beds flew up and were put into order and +she had already finished making the beds and slipped out again +before the three gentlemen had reached the room. Gregor's father +seemed so obsessed with what he was doing that he forgot all the +respect he owed to his tenants. He urged them and pressed them +until, when he was already at the door of the room, the middle of +the three gentlemen shouted like thunder and stamped his foot and +thereby brought Gregor's father to a halt. "I declare here and +now", he said, raising his hand and glancing at Gregor's mother and +sister to gain their attention too, "that with regard to the +repugnant conditions that prevail in this flat and with this family" +- here he looked briefly but decisively at the floor - "I give +immediate notice on my room. For the days that I have been living +here I will, of course, pay nothing at all, on the contrary I will +consider whether to proceed with some kind of action for damages +from you, and believe me it would be very easy to set out the +grounds for such an action." He was silent and looked straight +ahead as if waiting for something. And indeed, his two friends +joined in with the words: "And we also give immediate notice." With +that, he took hold of the door handle and slammed the door. + +Gregor's father staggered back to his seat, feeling his way with his +hands, and fell into it; it looked as if he was stretching himself +out for his usual evening nap but from the uncontrolled way his head +kept nodding it could be seen that he was not sleeping at all. +Throughout all this, Gregor had lain still where the three gentlemen +had first seen him. His disappointment at the failure of his plan, +and perhaps also because he was weak from hunger, made it impossible +for him to move. He was sure that everyone would turn on him any +moment, and he waited. He was not even startled out of this state +when the violin on his mother's lap fell from her trembling fingers +and landed loudly on the floor. + +"Father, Mother", said his sister, hitting the table with her hand +as introduction, "we can't carry on like this. Maybe you can't see +it, but I can. I don't want to call this monster my brother, all I +can say is: we have to try and get rid of it. We've done all that's +humanly possible to look after it and be patient, I don't think +anyone could accuse us of doing anything wrong." + +"She's absolutely right", said Gregor's father to himself. His +mother, who still had not had time to catch her breath, began to +cough dully, her hand held out in front of her and a deranged +expression in her eyes. + +Gregor's sister rushed to his mother and put her hand on her +forehead. Her words seemed to give Gregor's father some more +definite ideas. He sat upright, played with his uniform cap between +the plates left by the three gentlemen after their meal, and +occasionally looked down at Gregor as he lay there immobile. + +"We have to try and get rid of it", said Gregor's sister, now +speaking only to her father, as her mother was too occupied with +coughing to listen, "it'll be the death of both of you, I can see it +coming. We can't all work as hard as we have to and then come home +to be tortured like this, we can't endure it. I can't endure it any +more." And she broke out so heavily in tears that they flowed down +the face of her mother, and she wiped them away with mechanical hand +movements. + +"My child", said her father with sympathy and obvious understanding, +"what are we to do?" + +His sister just shrugged her shoulders as a sign of the helplessness +and tears that had taken hold of her, displacing her earlier +certainty. + +"If he could just understand us", said his father almost as a +question; his sister shook her hand vigorously through her tears as +a sign that of that there was no question. + +"If he could just understand us", repeated Gregor's father, closing +his eyes in acceptance of his sister's certainty that that was quite +impossible, "then perhaps we could come to some kind of arrangement +with him. But as it is ..." + +"It's got to go", shouted his sister, "that's the only way, Father. +You've got to get rid of the idea that that's Gregor. We've only +harmed ourselves by believing it for so long. How can that be +Gregor? If it were Gregor he would have seen long ago that it's not +possible for human beings to live with an animal like that and he +would have gone of his own free will. We wouldn't have a brother +any more, then, but we could carry on with our lives and remember +him with respect. As it is this animal is persecuting us, it's +driven out our tenants, it obviously wants to take over the whole +flat and force us to sleep on the streets. Father, look, just +look", she suddenly screamed, "he's starting again!" In her alarm, +which was totally beyond Gregor's comprehension, his sister even +abandoned his mother as she pushed herself vigorously out of her +chair as if more willing to sacrifice her own mother than stay +anywhere near Gregor. She rushed over to behind her father, who had +become excited merely because she was and stood up half raising his +hands in front of Gregor's sister as if to protect her. + +But Gregor had had no intention of frightening anyone, least of all +his sister. All he had done was begin to turn round so that he +could go back into his room, although that was in itself quite +startling as his pain-wracked condition meant that turning round +required a great deal of effort and he was using his head to help +himself do it, repeatedly raising it and striking it against the +floor. He stopped and looked round. They seemed to have realised +his good intention and had only been alarmed briefly. Now they all +looked at him in unhappy silence. His mother lay in her chair with +her legs stretched out and pressed against each other, her eyes +nearly closed with exhaustion; his sister sat next to his father +with her arms around his neck. + +"Maybe now they'll let me turn round", thought Gregor and went back +to work. He could not help panting loudly with the effort and had +sometimes to stop and take a rest. No-one was making him rush any +more, everything was left up to him. As soon as he had finally +finished turning round he began to move straight ahead. He was +amazed at the great distance that separated him from his room, and +could not understand how he had covered that distance in his weak +state a little while before and almost without noticing it. He +concentrated on crawling as fast as he could and hardly noticed that +there was not a word, not any cry, from his family to distract him. +He did not turn his head until he had reached the doorway. He did +not turn it all the way round as he felt his neck becoming stiff, +but it was nonetheless enough to see that nothing behind him had +changed, only his sister had stood up. With his last glance he saw +that his mother had now fallen completely asleep. + +He was hardly inside his room before the door was hurriedly shut, +bolted and locked. The sudden noise behind Gregor so startled him +that his little legs collapsed under him. It was his sister who had +been in so much of a rush. She had been standing there waiting and +sprung forward lightly, Gregor had not heard her coming at all, and +as she turned the key in the lock she said loudly to her parents "At +last!". + +"What now, then?", Gregor asked himself as he looked round in the +darkness. He soon made the discovery that he could no longer move +at all. This was no surprise to him, it seemed rather that being +able to actually move around on those spindly little legs until then +was unnatural. He also felt relatively comfortable. It is true +that his entire body was aching, but the pain seemed to be slowly +getting weaker and weaker and would finally disappear altogether. +He could already hardly feel the decayed apple in his back or the +inflamed area around it, which was entirely covered in white dust. +He thought back of his family with emotion and love. If it was +possible, he felt that he must go away even more strongly than his +sister. He remained in this state of empty and peaceful rumination +until he heard the clock tower strike three in the morning. He +watched as it slowly began to get light everywhere outside the +window too. Then, without his willing it, his head sank down +completely, and his last breath flowed weakly from his nostrils. + +When the cleaner came in early in the morning - they'd often asked +her not to keep slamming the doors but with her strength and in her +hurry she still did, so that everyone in the flat knew when she'd +arrived and from then on it was impossible to sleep in peace - she +made her usual brief look in on Gregor and at first found nothing +special. She thought he was laying there so still on purpose, +playing the martyr; she attributed all possible understanding to +him. She happened to be holding the long broom in her hand, so she +tried to tickle Gregor with it from the doorway. When she had no +success with that she tried to make a nuisance of herself and poked +at him a little, and only when she found she could shove him across +the floor with no resistance at all did she start to pay attention. +She soon realised what had really happened, opened her eyes wide, +whistled to herself, but did not waste time to yank open the bedroom +doors and shout loudly into the darkness of the bedrooms: "Come and +'ave a look at this, it's dead, just lying there, stone dead!" + +Mr. and Mrs. Samsa sat upright there in their marriage bed and had +to make an effort to get over the shock caused by the cleaner before +they could grasp what she was saying. But then, each from his own +side, they hurried out of bed. Mr. Samsa threw the blanket over his +shoulders, Mrs. Samsa just came out in her nightdress; and that is +how they went into Gregor's room. On the way they opened the door +to the living room where Grete had been sleeping since the three +gentlemen had moved in; she was fully dressed as if she had never +been asleep, and the paleness of her face seemed to confirm this. +"Dead?", asked Mrs. Samsa, looking at the charwoman enquiringly, +even though she could have checked for herself and could have known +it even without checking. "That's what I said", replied the +cleaner, and to prove it she gave Gregor's body another shove with +the broom, sending it sideways across the floor. Mrs. Samsa made a +movement as if she wanted to hold back the broom, but did not +complete it. "Now then", said Mr. Samsa, "let's give thanks to God +for that". He crossed himself, and the three women followed his +example. Grete, who had not taken her eyes from the corpse, said: +"Just look how thin he was. He didn't eat anything for so long. +The food came out again just the same as when it went in". Gregor's +body was indeed completely dried up and flat, they had not seen it +until then, but now he was not lifted up on his little legs, nor did +he do anything to make them look away. + +"Grete, come with us in here for a little while", said Mrs. Samsa +with a pained smile, and Grete followed her parents into the bedroom +but not without looking back at the body. The cleaner shut the door +and opened the window wide. Although it was still early in the +morning the fresh air had something of warmth mixed in with it. It +was already the end of March, after all. + +The three gentlemen stepped out of their room and looked round in +amazement for their breakfasts; they had been forgotten about. +"Where is our breakfast?", the middle gentleman asked the cleaner +irritably. She just put her finger on her lips and made a quick and +silent sign to the men that they might like to come into Gregor's +room. They did so, and stood around Gregor's corpse with their +hands in the pockets of their well-worn coats. It was now quite +light in the room. + +Then the door of the bedroom opened and Mr. Samsa appeared in his +uniform with his wife on one arm and his daughter on the other. All +of them had been crying a little; Grete now and then pressed her +face against her father's arm. + +"Leave my home. Now!", said Mr. Samsa, indicating the door and +without letting the women from him. "What do you mean?", asked the +middle of the three gentlemen somewhat disconcerted, and he smiled +sweetly. The other two held their hands behind their backs and +continually rubbed them together in gleeful anticipation of a loud +quarrel which could only end in their favour. "I mean just what I +said", answered Mr. Samsa, and, with his two companions, went in a +straight line towards the man. At first, he stood there still, +looking at the ground as if the contents of his head were +rearranging themselves into new positions. "Alright, we'll go +then", he said, and looked up at Mr. Samsa as if he had been +suddenly overcome with humility and wanted permission again from +Mr. Samsa for his decision. Mr. Samsa merely opened his eyes wide +and briefly nodded to him several times. At that, and without +delay, the man actually did take long strides into the front +hallway; his two friends had stopped rubbing their hands some time +before and had been listening to what was being said. Now they +jumped off after their friend as if taken with a sudden fear that +Mr. Samsa might go into the hallway in front of them and break the +connection with their leader. Once there, all three took their hats +from the stand, took their sticks from the holder, bowed without a +word and left the premises. Mr. Samsa and the two women followed +them out onto the landing; but they had had no reason to mistrust +the men's intentions and as they leaned over the landing they saw how +the three gentlemen made slow but steady progress down the many +steps. As they turned the corner on each floor they disappeared and +would reappear a few moments later; the further down they went, the +more that the Samsa family lost interest in them; when a butcher's +boy, proud of posture with his tray on his head, passed them on his +way up and came nearer than they were, Mr. Samsa and the women came +away from the landing and went, as if relieved, back into the flat. + +They decided the best way to make use of that day was for relaxation +and to go for a walk; not only had they earned a break from work but +they were in serious need of it. So they sat at the table and wrote +three letters of excusal, Mr. Samsa to his employers, Mrs. Samsa +to her contractor and Grete to her principal. The cleaner came in +while they were writing to tell them she was going, she'd finished +her work for that morning. The three of them at first just nodded +without looking up from what they were writing, and it was only when +the cleaner still did not seem to want to leave that they looked up +in irritation. "Well?", asked Mr. Samsa. The charwoman stood in +the doorway with a smile on her face as if she had some tremendous +good news to report, but would only do it if she was clearly asked +to. The almost vertical little ostrich feather on her hat, which +had been a source of irritation to Mr. Samsa all the time she had +been working for them, swayed gently in all directions. "What is it +you want then?", asked Mrs. Samsa, whom the cleaner had the most +respect for. "Yes", she answered, and broke into a friendly laugh +that made her unable to speak straight away, "well then, that thing +in there, you needn't worry about how you're going to get rid of it. + That's all been sorted out." Mrs. Samsa and Grete bent down over +their letters as if intent on continuing with what they were +writing; Mr. Samsa saw that the cleaner wanted to start describing +everything in detail but, with outstretched hand, he made it quite +clear that she was not to. So, as she was prevented from telling +them all about it, she suddenly remembered what a hurry she was in +and, clearly peeved, called out "Cheerio then, everyone", turned +round sharply and left, slamming the door terribly as she went. + +"Tonight she gets sacked", said Mr. Samsa, but he received no reply +from either his wife or his daughter as the charwoman seemed to have +destroyed the peace they had only just gained. They got up and went +over to the window where they remained with their arms around each +other. Mr. Samsa twisted round in his chair to look at them and sat +there watching for a while. Then he called out: "Come here, then. +Let's forget about all that old stuff, shall we. Come and give me a +bit of attention". The two women immediately did as he said, +hurrying over to him where they kissed him and hugged him and then +they quickly finished their letters. + +After that, the three of them left the flat together, which was +something they had not done for months, and took the tram out to the +open country outside the town. They had the tram, filled with warm +sunshine, all to themselves. Leant back comfortably on their seats, +they discussed their prospects and found that on closer examination +they were not at all bad - until then they had never asked each +other about their work but all three had jobs which were very good +and held particularly good promise for the future. The greatest +improvement for the time being, of course, would be achieved quite +easily by moving house; what they needed now was a flat that was +smaller and cheaper than the current one which had been chosen by +Gregor, one that was in a better location and, most of all, more +practical. All the time, Grete was becoming livelier. With all the +worry they had been having of late her cheeks had become pale, but, +while they were talking, Mr. and Mrs. Samsa were struck, almost +simultaneously, with the thought of how their daughter was +blossoming into a well built and beautiful young lady. They became +quieter. Just from each other's glance and almost without knowing +it they agreed that it would soon be time to find a good man for +her. And, as if in confirmation of their new dreams and good +intentions, as soon as they reached their destination Grete was the +first to get up and stretch out her young body. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Metamorphosis, by Franz Kafka +Translated by David Wyllie. + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK METAMORPHOSIS *** + +***** This file should be named 5200.txt or 5200.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.net/5/2/0/5200/ + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + +http://www.gutenberg.net + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/src/main/pg-sherlock_holmes.txt b/src/main/pg-sherlock_holmes.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8a6d3f4 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/main/pg-sherlock_holmes.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13052 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, by Arthur Conan Doyle + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net + + +Title: The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes + +Author: Arthur Conan Doyle + +Posting Date: April 18, 2011 [EBook #1661] +First Posted: November 29, 2002 + +Language: English + + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES *** + + + + +Produced by an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer and Jose Menendez + + + + + + + + + +THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES + +by + +SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE + + + + I. A Scandal in Bohemia + II. The Red-headed League + III. A Case of Identity + IV. The Boscombe Valley Mystery + V. The Five Orange Pips + VI. The Man with the Twisted Lip + VII. The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle +VIII. The Adventure of the Speckled Band + IX. The Adventure of the Engineer's Thumb + X. The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor + XI. The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet + XII. The Adventure of the Copper Beeches + + + + +ADVENTURE I. A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA + +I. + +To Sherlock Holmes she is always THE woman. I have seldom heard +him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses +and predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt +any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that +one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but +admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect +reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a +lover he would have placed himself in a false position. He never +spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They +were admirable things for the observer--excellent for drawing the +veil from men's motives and actions. But for the trained reasoner +to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely +adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which +might throw a doubt upon all his mental results. Grit in a +sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of his own high-power +lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a +nature such as his. And yet there was but one woman to him, and +that woman was the late Irene Adler, of dubious and questionable +memory. + +I had seen little of Holmes lately. My marriage had drifted us +away from each other. My own complete happiness, and the +home-centred interests which rise up around the man who first +finds himself master of his own establishment, were sufficient to +absorb all my attention, while Holmes, who loathed every form of +society with his whole Bohemian soul, remained in our lodgings in +Baker Street, buried among his old books, and alternating from +week to week between cocaine and ambition, the drowsiness of the +drug, and the fierce energy of his own keen nature. He was still, +as ever, deeply attracted by the study of crime, and occupied his +immense faculties and extraordinary powers of observation in +following out those clues, and clearing up those mysteries which +had been abandoned as hopeless by the official police. From time +to time I heard some vague account of his doings: of his summons +to Odessa in the case of the Trepoff murder, of his clearing up +of the singular tragedy of the Atkinson brothers at Trincomalee, +and finally of the mission which he had accomplished so +delicately and successfully for the reigning family of Holland. +Beyond these signs of his activity, however, which I merely +shared with all the readers of the daily press, I knew little of +my former friend and companion. + +One night--it was on the twentieth of March, 1888--I was +returning from a journey to a patient (for I had now returned to +civil practice), when my way led me through Baker Street. As I +passed the well-remembered door, which must always be associated +in my mind with my wooing, and with the dark incidents of the +Study in Scarlet, I was seized with a keen desire to see Holmes +again, and to know how he was employing his extraordinary powers. +His rooms were brilliantly lit, and, even as I looked up, I saw +his tall, spare figure pass twice in a dark silhouette against +the blind. He was pacing the room swiftly, eagerly, with his head +sunk upon his chest and his hands clasped behind him. To me, who +knew his every mood and habit, his attitude and manner told their +own story. He was at work again. He had risen out of his +drug-created dreams and was hot upon the scent of some new +problem. I rang the bell and was shown up to the chamber which +had formerly been in part my own. + +His manner was not effusive. It seldom was; but he was glad, I +think, to see me. With hardly a word spoken, but with a kindly +eye, he waved me to an armchair, threw across his case of cigars, +and indicated a spirit case and a gasogene in the corner. Then he +stood before the fire and looked me over in his singular +introspective fashion. + +"Wedlock suits you," he remarked. "I think, Watson, that you have +put on seven and a half pounds since I saw you." + +"Seven!" I answered. + +"Indeed, I should have thought a little more. Just a trifle more, +I fancy, Watson. And in practice again, I observe. You did not +tell me that you intended to go into harness." + +"Then, how do you know?" + +"I see it, I deduce it. How do I know that you have been getting +yourself very wet lately, and that you have a most clumsy and +careless servant girl?" + +"My dear Holmes," said I, "this is too much. You would certainly +have been burned, had you lived a few centuries ago. It is true +that I had a country walk on Thursday and came home in a dreadful +mess, but as I have changed my clothes I can't imagine how you +deduce it. As to Mary Jane, she is incorrigible, and my wife has +given her notice, but there, again, I fail to see how you work it +out." + +He chuckled to himself and rubbed his long, nervous hands +together. + +"It is simplicity itself," said he; "my eyes tell me that on the +inside of your left shoe, just where the firelight strikes it, +the leather is scored by six almost parallel cuts. Obviously they +have been caused by someone who has very carelessly scraped round +the edges of the sole in order to remove crusted mud from it. +Hence, you see, my double deduction that you had been out in vile +weather, and that you had a particularly malignant boot-slitting +specimen of the London slavey. As to your practice, if a +gentleman walks into my rooms smelling of iodoform, with a black +mark of nitrate of silver upon his right forefinger, and a bulge +on the right side of his top-hat to show where he has secreted +his stethoscope, I must be dull, indeed, if I do not pronounce +him to be an active member of the medical profession." + +I could not help laughing at the ease with which he explained his +process of deduction. "When I hear you give your reasons," I +remarked, "the thing always appears to me to be so ridiculously +simple that I could easily do it myself, though at each +successive instance of your reasoning I am baffled until you +explain your process. And yet I believe that my eyes are as good +as yours." + +"Quite so," he answered, lighting a cigarette, and throwing +himself down into an armchair. "You see, but you do not observe. +The distinction is clear. For example, you have frequently seen +the steps which lead up from the hall to this room." + +"Frequently." + +"How often?" + +"Well, some hundreds of times." + +"Then how many are there?" + +"How many? I don't know." + +"Quite so! You have not observed. And yet you have seen. That is +just my point. Now, I know that there are seventeen steps, +because I have both seen and observed. By-the-way, since you are +interested in these little problems, and since you are good +enough to chronicle one or two of my trifling experiences, you +may be interested in this." He threw over a sheet of thick, +pink-tinted note-paper which had been lying open upon the table. +"It came by the last post," said he. "Read it aloud." + +The note was undated, and without either signature or address. + +"There will call upon you to-night, at a quarter to eight +o'clock," it said, "a gentleman who desires to consult you upon a +matter of the very deepest moment. Your recent services to one of +the royal houses of Europe have shown that you are one who may +safely be trusted with matters which are of an importance which +can hardly be exaggerated. This account of you we have from all +quarters received. Be in your chamber then at that hour, and do +not take it amiss if your visitor wear a mask." + +"This is indeed a mystery," I remarked. "What do you imagine that +it means?" + +"I have no data yet. It is a capital mistake to theorize before +one has data. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit +theories, instead of theories to suit facts. But the note itself. +What do you deduce from it?" + +I carefully examined the writing, and the paper upon which it was +written. + +"The man who wrote it was presumably well to do," I remarked, +endeavouring to imitate my companion's processes. "Such paper +could not be bought under half a crown a packet. It is peculiarly +strong and stiff." + +"Peculiar--that is the very word," said Holmes. "It is not an +English paper at all. Hold it up to the light." + +I did so, and saw a large "E" with a small "g," a "P," and a +large "G" with a small "t" woven into the texture of the paper. + +"What do you make of that?" asked Holmes. + +"The name of the maker, no doubt; or his monogram, rather." + +"Not at all. The 'G' with the small 't' stands for +'Gesellschaft,' which is the German for 'Company.' It is a +customary contraction like our 'Co.' 'P,' of course, stands for +'Papier.' Now for the 'Eg.' Let us glance at our Continental +Gazetteer." He took down a heavy brown volume from his shelves. +"Eglow, Eglonitz--here we are, Egria. It is in a German-speaking +country--in Bohemia, not far from Carlsbad. 'Remarkable as being +the scene of the death of Wallenstein, and for its numerous +glass-factories and paper-mills.' Ha, ha, my boy, what do you +make of that?" His eyes sparkled, and he sent up a great blue +triumphant cloud from his cigarette. + +"The paper was made in Bohemia," I said. + +"Precisely. And the man who wrote the note is a German. Do you +note the peculiar construction of the sentence--'This account of +you we have from all quarters received.' A Frenchman or Russian +could not have written that. It is the German who is so +uncourteous to his verbs. It only remains, therefore, to discover +what is wanted by this German who writes upon Bohemian paper and +prefers wearing a mask to showing his face. And here he comes, if +I am not mistaken, to resolve all our doubts." + +As he spoke there was the sharp sound of horses' hoofs and +grating wheels against the curb, followed by a sharp pull at the +bell. Holmes whistled. + +"A pair, by the sound," said he. "Yes," he continued, glancing +out of the window. "A nice little brougham and a pair of +beauties. A hundred and fifty guineas apiece. There's money in +this case, Watson, if there is nothing else." + +"I think that I had better go, Holmes." + +"Not a bit, Doctor. Stay where you are. I am lost without my +Boswell. And this promises to be interesting. It would be a pity +to miss it." + +"But your client--" + +"Never mind him. I may want your help, and so may he. Here he +comes. Sit down in that armchair, Doctor, and give us your best +attention." + +A slow and heavy step, which had been heard upon the stairs and +in the passage, paused immediately outside the door. Then there +was a loud and authoritative tap. + +"Come in!" said Holmes. + +A man entered who could hardly have been less than six feet six +inches in height, with the chest and limbs of a Hercules. His +dress was rich with a richness which would, in England, be looked +upon as akin to bad taste. Heavy bands of astrakhan were slashed +across the sleeves and fronts of his double-breasted coat, while +the deep blue cloak which was thrown over his shoulders was lined +with flame-coloured silk and secured at the neck with a brooch +which consisted of a single flaming beryl. Boots which extended +halfway up his calves, and which were trimmed at the tops with +rich brown fur, completed the impression of barbaric opulence +which was suggested by his whole appearance. He carried a +broad-brimmed hat in his hand, while he wore across the upper +part of his face, extending down past the cheekbones, a black +vizard mask, which he had apparently adjusted that very moment, +for his hand was still raised to it as he entered. From the lower +part of the face he appeared to be a man of strong character, +with a thick, hanging lip, and a long, straight chin suggestive +of resolution pushed to the length of obstinacy. + +"You had my note?" he asked with a deep harsh voice and a +strongly marked German accent. "I told you that I would call." He +looked from one to the other of us, as if uncertain which to +address. + +"Pray take a seat," said Holmes. "This is my friend and +colleague, Dr. Watson, who is occasionally good enough to help me +in my cases. Whom have I the honour to address?" + +"You may address me as the Count Von Kramm, a Bohemian nobleman. +I understand that this gentleman, your friend, is a man of honour +and discretion, whom I may trust with a matter of the most +extreme importance. If not, I should much prefer to communicate +with you alone." + +I rose to go, but Holmes caught me by the wrist and pushed me +back into my chair. "It is both, or none," said he. "You may say +before this gentleman anything which you may say to me." + +The Count shrugged his broad shoulders. "Then I must begin," said +he, "by binding you both to absolute secrecy for two years; at +the end of that time the matter will be of no importance. At +present it is not too much to say that it is of such weight it +may have an influence upon European history." + +"I promise," said Holmes. + +"And I." + +"You will excuse this mask," continued our strange visitor. "The +august person who employs me wishes his agent to be unknown to +you, and I may confess at once that the title by which I have +just called myself is not exactly my own." + +"I was aware of it," said Holmes dryly. + +"The circumstances are of great delicacy, and every precaution +has to be taken to quench what might grow to be an immense +scandal and seriously compromise one of the reigning families of +Europe. To speak plainly, the matter implicates the great House +of Ormstein, hereditary kings of Bohemia." + +"I was also aware of that," murmured Holmes, settling himself +down in his armchair and closing his eyes. + +Our visitor glanced with some apparent surprise at the languid, +lounging figure of the man who had been no doubt depicted to him +as the most incisive reasoner and most energetic agent in Europe. +Holmes slowly reopened his eyes and looked impatiently at his +gigantic client. + +"If your Majesty would condescend to state your case," he +remarked, "I should be better able to advise you." + +The man sprang from his chair and paced up and down the room in +uncontrollable agitation. Then, with a gesture of desperation, he +tore the mask from his face and hurled it upon the ground. "You +are right," he cried; "I am the King. Why should I attempt to +conceal it?" + +"Why, indeed?" murmured Holmes. "Your Majesty had not spoken +before I was aware that I was addressing Wilhelm Gottsreich +Sigismond von Ormstein, Grand Duke of Cassel-Felstein, and +hereditary King of Bohemia." + +"But you can understand," said our strange visitor, sitting down +once more and passing his hand over his high white forehead, "you +can understand that I am not accustomed to doing such business in +my own person. Yet the matter was so delicate that I could not +confide it to an agent without putting myself in his power. I +have come incognito from Prague for the purpose of consulting +you." + +"Then, pray consult," said Holmes, shutting his eyes once more. + +"The facts are briefly these: Some five years ago, during a +lengthy visit to Warsaw, I made the acquaintance of the well-known +adventuress, Irene Adler. The name is no doubt familiar to you." + +"Kindly look her up in my index, Doctor," murmured Holmes without +opening his eyes. For many years he had adopted a system of +docketing all paragraphs concerning men and things, so that it +was difficult to name a subject or a person on which he could not +at once furnish information. In this case I found her biography +sandwiched in between that of a Hebrew rabbi and that of a +staff-commander who had written a monograph upon the deep-sea +fishes. + +"Let me see!" said Holmes. "Hum! Born in New Jersey in the year +1858. Contralto--hum! La Scala, hum! Prima donna Imperial Opera +of Warsaw--yes! Retired from operatic stage--ha! Living in +London--quite so! Your Majesty, as I understand, became entangled +with this young person, wrote her some compromising letters, and +is now desirous of getting those letters back." + +"Precisely so. But how--" + +"Was there a secret marriage?" + +"None." + +"No legal papers or certificates?" + +"None." + +"Then I fail to follow your Majesty. If this young person should +produce her letters for blackmailing or other purposes, how is +she to prove their authenticity?" + +"There is the writing." + +"Pooh, pooh! Forgery." + +"My private note-paper." + +"Stolen." + +"My own seal." + +"Imitated." + +"My photograph." + +"Bought." + +"We were both in the photograph." + +"Oh, dear! That is very bad! Your Majesty has indeed committed an +indiscretion." + +"I was mad--insane." + +"You have compromised yourself seriously." + +"I was only Crown Prince then. I was young. I am but thirty now." + +"It must be recovered." + +"We have tried and failed." + +"Your Majesty must pay. It must be bought." + +"She will not sell." + +"Stolen, then." + +"Five attempts have been made. Twice burglars in my pay ransacked +her house. Once we diverted her luggage when she travelled. Twice +she has been waylaid. There has been no result." + +"No sign of it?" + +"Absolutely none." + +Holmes laughed. "It is quite a pretty little problem," said he. + +"But a very serious one to me," returned the King reproachfully. + +"Very, indeed. And what does she propose to do with the +photograph?" + +"To ruin me." + +"But how?" + +"I am about to be married." + +"So I have heard." + +"To Clotilde Lothman von Saxe-Meningen, second daughter of the +King of Scandinavia. You may know the strict principles of her +family. She is herself the very soul of delicacy. A shadow of a +doubt as to my conduct would bring the matter to an end." + +"And Irene Adler?" + +"Threatens to send them the photograph. And she will do it. I +know that she will do it. You do not know her, but she has a soul +of steel. She has the face of the most beautiful of women, and +the mind of the most resolute of men. Rather than I should marry +another woman, there are no lengths to which she would not +go--none." + +"You are sure that she has not sent it yet?" + +"I am sure." + +"And why?" + +"Because she has said that she would send it on the day when the +betrothal was publicly proclaimed. That will be next Monday." + +"Oh, then we have three days yet," said Holmes with a yawn. "That +is very fortunate, as I have one or two matters of importance to +look into just at present. Your Majesty will, of course, stay in +London for the present?" + +"Certainly. You will find me at the Langham under the name of the +Count Von Kramm." + +"Then I shall drop you a line to let you know how we progress." + +"Pray do so. I shall be all anxiety." + +"Then, as to money?" + +"You have carte blanche." + +"Absolutely?" + +"I tell you that I would give one of the provinces of my kingdom +to have that photograph." + +"And for present expenses?" + +The King took a heavy chamois leather bag from under his cloak +and laid it on the table. + +"There are three hundred pounds in gold and seven hundred in +notes," he said. + +Holmes scribbled a receipt upon a sheet of his note-book and +handed it to him. + +"And Mademoiselle's address?" he asked. + +"Is Briony Lodge, Serpentine Avenue, St. John's Wood." + +Holmes took a note of it. "One other question," said he. "Was the +photograph a cabinet?" + +"It was." + +"Then, good-night, your Majesty, and I trust that we shall soon +have some good news for you. And good-night, Watson," he added, +as the wheels of the royal brougham rolled down the street. "If +you will be good enough to call to-morrow afternoon at three +o'clock I should like to chat this little matter over with you." + + +II. + +At three o'clock precisely I was at Baker Street, but Holmes had +not yet returned. The landlady informed me that he had left the +house shortly after eight o'clock in the morning. I sat down +beside the fire, however, with the intention of awaiting him, +however long he might be. I was already deeply interested in his +inquiry, for, though it was surrounded by none of the grim and +strange features which were associated with the two crimes which +I have already recorded, still, the nature of the case and the +exalted station of his client gave it a character of its own. +Indeed, apart from the nature of the investigation which my +friend had on hand, there was something in his masterly grasp of +a situation, and his keen, incisive reasoning, which made it a +pleasure to me to study his system of work, and to follow the +quick, subtle methods by which he disentangled the most +inextricable mysteries. So accustomed was I to his invariable +success that the very possibility of his failing had ceased to +enter into my head. + +It was close upon four before the door opened, and a +drunken-looking groom, ill-kempt and side-whiskered, with an +inflamed face and disreputable clothes, walked into the room. +Accustomed as I was to my friend's amazing powers in the use of +disguises, I had to look three times before I was certain that it +was indeed he. With a nod he vanished into the bedroom, whence he +emerged in five minutes tweed-suited and respectable, as of old. +Putting his hands into his pockets, he stretched out his legs in +front of the fire and laughed heartily for some minutes. + +"Well, really!" he cried, and then he choked and laughed again +until he was obliged to lie back, limp and helpless, in the +chair. + +"What is it?" + +"It's quite too funny. I am sure you could never guess how I +employed my morning, or what I ended by doing." + +"I can't imagine. I suppose that you have been watching the +habits, and perhaps the house, of Miss Irene Adler." + +"Quite so; but the sequel was rather unusual. I will tell you, +however. I left the house a little after eight o'clock this +morning in the character of a groom out of work. There is a +wonderful sympathy and freemasonry among horsey men. Be one of +them, and you will know all that there is to know. I soon found +Briony Lodge. It is a bijou villa, with a garden at the back, but +built out in front right up to the road, two stories. Chubb lock +to the door. Large sitting-room on the right side, well +furnished, with long windows almost to the floor, and those +preposterous English window fasteners which a child could open. +Behind there was nothing remarkable, save that the passage window +could be reached from the top of the coach-house. I walked round +it and examined it closely from every point of view, but without +noting anything else of interest. + +"I then lounged down the street and found, as I expected, that +there was a mews in a lane which runs down by one wall of the +garden. I lent the ostlers a hand in rubbing down their horses, +and received in exchange twopence, a glass of half and half, two +fills of shag tobacco, and as much information as I could desire +about Miss Adler, to say nothing of half a dozen other people in +the neighbourhood in whom I was not in the least interested, but +whose biographies I was compelled to listen to." + +"And what of Irene Adler?" I asked. + +"Oh, she has turned all the men's heads down in that part. She is +the daintiest thing under a bonnet on this planet. So say the +Serpentine-mews, to a man. She lives quietly, sings at concerts, +drives out at five every day, and returns at seven sharp for +dinner. Seldom goes out at other times, except when she sings. +Has only one male visitor, but a good deal of him. He is dark, +handsome, and dashing, never calls less than once a day, and +often twice. He is a Mr. Godfrey Norton, of the Inner Temple. See +the advantages of a cabman as a confidant. They had driven him +home a dozen times from Serpentine-mews, and knew all about him. +When I had listened to all they had to tell, I began to walk up +and down near Briony Lodge once more, and to think over my plan +of campaign. + +"This Godfrey Norton was evidently an important factor in the +matter. He was a lawyer. That sounded ominous. What was the +relation between them, and what the object of his repeated +visits? Was she his client, his friend, or his mistress? If the +former, she had probably transferred the photograph to his +keeping. If the latter, it was less likely. On the issue of this +question depended whether I should continue my work at Briony +Lodge, or turn my attention to the gentleman's chambers in the +Temple. It was a delicate point, and it widened the field of my +inquiry. I fear that I bore you with these details, but I have to +let you see my little difficulties, if you are to understand the +situation." + +"I am following you closely," I answered. + +"I was still balancing the matter in my mind when a hansom cab +drove up to Briony Lodge, and a gentleman sprang out. He was a +remarkably handsome man, dark, aquiline, and moustached--evidently +the man of whom I had heard. He appeared to be in a +great hurry, shouted to the cabman to wait, and brushed past the +maid who opened the door with the air of a man who was thoroughly +at home. + +"He was in the house about half an hour, and I could catch +glimpses of him in the windows of the sitting-room, pacing up and +down, talking excitedly, and waving his arms. Of her I could see +nothing. Presently he emerged, looking even more flurried than +before. As he stepped up to the cab, he pulled a gold watch from +his pocket and looked at it earnestly, 'Drive like the devil,' he +shouted, 'first to Gross & Hankey's in Regent Street, and then to +the Church of St. Monica in the Edgeware Road. Half a guinea if +you do it in twenty minutes!' + +"Away they went, and I was just wondering whether I should not do +well to follow them when up the lane came a neat little landau, +the coachman with his coat only half-buttoned, and his tie under +his ear, while all the tags of his harness were sticking out of +the buckles. It hadn't pulled up before she shot out of the hall +door and into it. I only caught a glimpse of her at the moment, +but she was a lovely woman, with a face that a man might die for. + +"'The Church of St. Monica, John,' she cried, 'and half a +sovereign if you reach it in twenty minutes.' + +"This was quite too good to lose, Watson. I was just balancing +whether I should run for it, or whether I should perch behind her +landau when a cab came through the street. The driver looked +twice at such a shabby fare, but I jumped in before he could +object. 'The Church of St. Monica,' said I, 'and half a sovereign +if you reach it in twenty minutes.' It was twenty-five minutes to +twelve, and of course it was clear enough what was in the wind. + +"My cabby drove fast. I don't think I ever drove faster, but the +others were there before us. The cab and the landau with their +steaming horses were in front of the door when I arrived. I paid +the man and hurried into the church. There was not a soul there +save the two whom I had followed and a surpliced clergyman, who +seemed to be expostulating with them. They were all three +standing in a knot in front of the altar. I lounged up the side +aisle like any other idler who has dropped into a church. +Suddenly, to my surprise, the three at the altar faced round to +me, and Godfrey Norton came running as hard as he could towards +me. + +"'Thank God,' he cried. 'You'll do. Come! Come!' + +"'What then?' I asked. + +"'Come, man, come, only three minutes, or it won't be legal.' + +"I was half-dragged up to the altar, and before I knew where I was +I found myself mumbling responses which were whispered in my ear, +and vouching for things of which I knew nothing, and generally +assisting in the secure tying up of Irene Adler, spinster, to +Godfrey Norton, bachelor. It was all done in an instant, and +there was the gentleman thanking me on the one side and the lady +on the other, while the clergyman beamed on me in front. It was +the most preposterous position in which I ever found myself in my +life, and it was the thought of it that started me laughing just +now. It seems that there had been some informality about their +license, that the clergyman absolutely refused to marry them +without a witness of some sort, and that my lucky appearance +saved the bridegroom from having to sally out into the streets in +search of a best man. The bride gave me a sovereign, and I mean +to wear it on my watch-chain in memory of the occasion." + +"This is a very unexpected turn of affairs," said I; "and what +then?" + +"Well, I found my plans very seriously menaced. It looked as if +the pair might take an immediate departure, and so necessitate +very prompt and energetic measures on my part. At the church +door, however, they separated, he driving back to the Temple, and +she to her own house. 'I shall drive out in the park at five as +usual,' she said as she left him. I heard no more. They drove +away in different directions, and I went off to make my own +arrangements." + +"Which are?" + +"Some cold beef and a glass of beer," he answered, ringing the +bell. "I have been too busy to think of food, and I am likely to +be busier still this evening. By the way, Doctor, I shall want +your co-operation." + +"I shall be delighted." + +"You don't mind breaking the law?" + +"Not in the least." + +"Nor running a chance of arrest?" + +"Not in a good cause." + +"Oh, the cause is excellent!" + +"Then I am your man." + +"I was sure that I might rely on you." + +"But what is it you wish?" + +"When Mrs. Turner has brought in the tray I will make it clear to +you. Now," he said as he turned hungrily on the simple fare that +our landlady had provided, "I must discuss it while I eat, for I +have not much time. It is nearly five now. In two hours we must +be on the scene of action. Miss Irene, or Madame, rather, returns +from her drive at seven. We must be at Briony Lodge to meet her." + +"And what then?" + +"You must leave that to me. I have already arranged what is to +occur. There is only one point on which I must insist. You must +not interfere, come what may. You understand?" + +"I am to be neutral?" + +"To do nothing whatever. There will probably be some small +unpleasantness. Do not join in it. It will end in my being +conveyed into the house. Four or five minutes afterwards the +sitting-room window will open. You are to station yourself close +to that open window." + +"Yes." + +"You are to watch me, for I will be visible to you." + +"Yes." + +"And when I raise my hand--so--you will throw into the room what +I give you to throw, and will, at the same time, raise the cry of +fire. You quite follow me?" + +"Entirely." + +"It is nothing very formidable," he said, taking a long cigar-shaped +roll from his pocket. "It is an ordinary plumber's smoke-rocket, +fitted with a cap at either end to make it self-lighting. +Your task is confined to that. When you raise your cry of fire, +it will be taken up by quite a number of people. You may then +walk to the end of the street, and I will rejoin you in ten +minutes. I hope that I have made myself clear?" + +"I am to remain neutral, to get near the window, to watch you, +and at the signal to throw in this object, then to raise the cry +of fire, and to wait you at the corner of the street." + +"Precisely." + +"Then you may entirely rely on me." + +"That is excellent. I think, perhaps, it is almost time that I +prepare for the new role I have to play." + +He disappeared into his bedroom and returned in a few minutes in +the character of an amiable and simple-minded Nonconformist +clergyman. His broad black hat, his baggy trousers, his white +tie, his sympathetic smile, and general look of peering and +benevolent curiosity were such as Mr. John Hare alone could have +equalled. It was not merely that Holmes changed his costume. His +expression, his manner, his very soul seemed to vary with every +fresh part that he assumed. The stage lost a fine actor, even as +science lost an acute reasoner, when he became a specialist in +crime. + +It was a quarter past six when we left Baker Street, and it still +wanted ten minutes to the hour when we found ourselves in +Serpentine Avenue. It was already dusk, and the lamps were just +being lighted as we paced up and down in front of Briony Lodge, +waiting for the coming of its occupant. The house was just such +as I had pictured it from Sherlock Holmes' succinct description, +but the locality appeared to be less private than I expected. On +the contrary, for a small street in a quiet neighbourhood, it was +remarkably animated. There was a group of shabbily dressed men +smoking and laughing in a corner, a scissors-grinder with his +wheel, two guardsmen who were flirting with a nurse-girl, and +several well-dressed young men who were lounging up and down with +cigars in their mouths. + +"You see," remarked Holmes, as we paced to and fro in front of +the house, "this marriage rather simplifies matters. The +photograph becomes a double-edged weapon now. The chances are +that she would be as averse to its being seen by Mr. Godfrey +Norton, as our client is to its coming to the eyes of his +princess. Now the question is, Where are we to find the +photograph?" + +"Where, indeed?" + +"It is most unlikely that she carries it about with her. It is +cabinet size. Too large for easy concealment about a woman's +dress. She knows that the King is capable of having her waylaid +and searched. Two attempts of the sort have already been made. We +may take it, then, that she does not carry it about with her." + +"Where, then?" + +"Her banker or her lawyer. There is that double possibility. But +I am inclined to think neither. Women are naturally secretive, +and they like to do their own secreting. Why should she hand it +over to anyone else? She could trust her own guardianship, but +she could not tell what indirect or political influence might be +brought to bear upon a business man. Besides, remember that she +had resolved to use it within a few days. It must be where she +can lay her hands upon it. It must be in her own house." + +"But it has twice been burgled." + +"Pshaw! They did not know how to look." + +"But how will you look?" + +"I will not look." + +"What then?" + +"I will get her to show me." + +"But she will refuse." + +"She will not be able to. But I hear the rumble of wheels. It is +her carriage. Now carry out my orders to the letter." + +As he spoke the gleam of the side-lights of a carriage came round +the curve of the avenue. It was a smart little landau which +rattled up to the door of Briony Lodge. As it pulled up, one of +the loafing men at the corner dashed forward to open the door in +the hope of earning a copper, but was elbowed away by another +loafer, who had rushed up with the same intention. A fierce +quarrel broke out, which was increased by the two guardsmen, who +took sides with one of the loungers, and by the scissors-grinder, +who was equally hot upon the other side. A blow was struck, and +in an instant the lady, who had stepped from her carriage, was +the centre of a little knot of flushed and struggling men, who +struck savagely at each other with their fists and sticks. Holmes +dashed into the crowd to protect the lady; but just as he reached +her he gave a cry and dropped to the ground, with the blood +running freely down his face. At his fall the guardsmen took to +their heels in one direction and the loungers in the other, while +a number of better-dressed people, who had watched the scuffle +without taking part in it, crowded in to help the lady and to +attend to the injured man. Irene Adler, as I will still call her, +had hurried up the steps; but she stood at the top with her +superb figure outlined against the lights of the hall, looking +back into the street. + +"Is the poor gentleman much hurt?" she asked. + +"He is dead," cried several voices. + +"No, no, there's life in him!" shouted another. "But he'll be +gone before you can get him to hospital." + +"He's a brave fellow," said a woman. "They would have had the +lady's purse and watch if it hadn't been for him. They were a +gang, and a rough one, too. Ah, he's breathing now." + +"He can't lie in the street. May we bring him in, marm?" + +"Surely. Bring him into the sitting-room. There is a comfortable +sofa. This way, please!" + +Slowly and solemnly he was borne into Briony Lodge and laid out +in the principal room, while I still observed the proceedings +from my post by the window. The lamps had been lit, but the +blinds had not been drawn, so that I could see Holmes as he lay +upon the couch. I do not know whether he was seized with +compunction at that moment for the part he was playing, but I +know that I never felt more heartily ashamed of myself in my life +than when I saw the beautiful creature against whom I was +conspiring, or the grace and kindliness with which she waited +upon the injured man. And yet it would be the blackest treachery +to Holmes to draw back now from the part which he had intrusted +to me. I hardened my heart, and took the smoke-rocket from under +my ulster. After all, I thought, we are not injuring her. We are +but preventing her from injuring another. + +Holmes had sat up upon the couch, and I saw him motion like a man +who is in need of air. A maid rushed across and threw open the +window. At the same instant I saw him raise his hand and at the +signal I tossed my rocket into the room with a cry of "Fire!" The +word was no sooner out of my mouth than the whole crowd of +spectators, well dressed and ill--gentlemen, ostlers, and +servant-maids--joined in a general shriek of "Fire!" Thick clouds +of smoke curled through the room and out at the open window. I +caught a glimpse of rushing figures, and a moment later the voice +of Holmes from within assuring them that it was a false alarm. +Slipping through the shouting crowd I made my way to the corner +of the street, and in ten minutes was rejoiced to find my +friend's arm in mine, and to get away from the scene of uproar. +He walked swiftly and in silence for some few minutes until we +had turned down one of the quiet streets which lead towards the +Edgeware Road. + +"You did it very nicely, Doctor," he remarked. "Nothing could +have been better. It is all right." + +"You have the photograph?" + +"I know where it is." + +"And how did you find out?" + +"She showed me, as I told you she would." + +"I am still in the dark." + +"I do not wish to make a mystery," said he, laughing. "The matter +was perfectly simple. You, of course, saw that everyone in the +street was an accomplice. They were all engaged for the evening." + +"I guessed as much." + +"Then, when the row broke out, I had a little moist red paint in +the palm of my hand. I rushed forward, fell down, clapped my hand +to my face, and became a piteous spectacle. It is an old trick." + +"That also I could fathom." + +"Then they carried me in. She was bound to have me in. What else +could she do? And into her sitting-room, which was the very room +which I suspected. It lay between that and her bedroom, and I was +determined to see which. They laid me on a couch, I motioned for +air, they were compelled to open the window, and you had your +chance." + +"How did that help you?" + +"It was all-important. When a woman thinks that her house is on +fire, her instinct is at once to rush to the thing which she +values most. It is a perfectly overpowering impulse, and I have +more than once taken advantage of it. In the case of the +Darlington substitution scandal it was of use to me, and also in +the Arnsworth Castle business. A married woman grabs at her baby; +an unmarried one reaches for her jewel-box. Now it was clear to +me that our lady of to-day had nothing in the house more precious +to her than what we are in quest of. She would rush to secure it. +The alarm of fire was admirably done. The smoke and shouting were +enough to shake nerves of steel. She responded beautifully. The +photograph is in a recess behind a sliding panel just above the +right bell-pull. She was there in an instant, and I caught a +glimpse of it as she half-drew it out. When I cried out that it +was a false alarm, she replaced it, glanced at the rocket, rushed +from the room, and I have not seen her since. I rose, and, making +my excuses, escaped from the house. I hesitated whether to +attempt to secure the photograph at once; but the coachman had +come in, and as he was watching me narrowly it seemed safer to +wait. A little over-precipitance may ruin all." + +"And now?" I asked. + +"Our quest is practically finished. I shall call with the King +to-morrow, and with you, if you care to come with us. We will be +shown into the sitting-room to wait for the lady, but it is +probable that when she comes she may find neither us nor the +photograph. It might be a satisfaction to his Majesty to regain +it with his own hands." + +"And when will you call?" + +"At eight in the morning. She will not be up, so that we shall +have a clear field. Besides, we must be prompt, for this marriage +may mean a complete change in her life and habits. I must wire to +the King without delay." + +We had reached Baker Street and had stopped at the door. He was +searching his pockets for the key when someone passing said: + +"Good-night, Mister Sherlock Holmes." + +There were several people on the pavement at the time, but the +greeting appeared to come from a slim youth in an ulster who had +hurried by. + +"I've heard that voice before," said Holmes, staring down the +dimly lit street. "Now, I wonder who the deuce that could have +been." + + +III. + +I slept at Baker Street that night, and we were engaged upon our +toast and coffee in the morning when the King of Bohemia rushed +into the room. + +"You have really got it!" he cried, grasping Sherlock Holmes by +either shoulder and looking eagerly into his face. + +"Not yet." + +"But you have hopes?" + +"I have hopes." + +"Then, come. I am all impatience to be gone." + +"We must have a cab." + +"No, my brougham is waiting." + +"Then that will simplify matters." We descended and started off +once more for Briony Lodge. + +"Irene Adler is married," remarked Holmes. + +"Married! When?" + +"Yesterday." + +"But to whom?" + +"To an English lawyer named Norton." + +"But she could not love him." + +"I am in hopes that she does." + +"And why in hopes?" + +"Because it would spare your Majesty all fear of future +annoyance. If the lady loves her husband, she does not love your +Majesty. If she does not love your Majesty, there is no reason +why she should interfere with your Majesty's plan." + +"It is true. And yet--Well! I wish she had been of my own +station! What a queen she would have made!" He relapsed into a +moody silence, which was not broken until we drew up in +Serpentine Avenue. + +The door of Briony Lodge was open, and an elderly woman stood +upon the steps. She watched us with a sardonic eye as we stepped +from the brougham. + +"Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I believe?" said she. + +"I am Mr. Holmes," answered my companion, looking at her with a +questioning and rather startled gaze. + +"Indeed! My mistress told me that you were likely to call. She +left this morning with her husband by the 5:15 train from Charing +Cross for the Continent." + +"What!" Sherlock Holmes staggered back, white with chagrin and +surprise. "Do you mean that she has left England?" + +"Never to return." + +"And the papers?" asked the King hoarsely. "All is lost." + +"We shall see." He pushed past the servant and rushed into the +drawing-room, followed by the King and myself. The furniture was +scattered about in every direction, with dismantled shelves and +open drawers, as if the lady had hurriedly ransacked them before +her flight. Holmes rushed at the bell-pull, tore back a small +sliding shutter, and, plunging in his hand, pulled out a +photograph and a letter. The photograph was of Irene Adler +herself in evening dress, the letter was superscribed to +"Sherlock Holmes, Esq. To be left till called for." My friend +tore it open and we all three read it together. It was dated at +midnight of the preceding night and ran in this way: + +"MY DEAR MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES,--You really did it very well. You +took me in completely. Until after the alarm of fire, I had not a +suspicion. But then, when I found how I had betrayed myself, I +began to think. I had been warned against you months ago. I had +been told that if the King employed an agent it would certainly +be you. And your address had been given me. Yet, with all this, +you made me reveal what you wanted to know. Even after I became +suspicious, I found it hard to think evil of such a dear, kind +old clergyman. But, you know, I have been trained as an actress +myself. Male costume is nothing new to me. I often take advantage +of the freedom which it gives. I sent John, the coachman, to +watch you, ran up stairs, got into my walking-clothes, as I call +them, and came down just as you departed. + +"Well, I followed you to your door, and so made sure that I was +really an object of interest to the celebrated Mr. Sherlock +Holmes. Then I, rather imprudently, wished you good-night, and +started for the Temple to see my husband. + +"We both thought the best resource was flight, when pursued by +so formidable an antagonist; so you will find the nest empty when +you call to-morrow. As to the photograph, your client may rest in +peace. I love and am loved by a better man than he. The King may +do what he will without hindrance from one whom he has cruelly +wronged. I keep it only to safeguard myself, and to preserve a +weapon which will always secure me from any steps which he might +take in the future. I leave a photograph which he might care to +possess; and I remain, dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes, + + "Very truly yours, + "IRENE NORTON, nee ADLER." + +"What a woman--oh, what a woman!" cried the King of Bohemia, when +we had all three read this epistle. "Did I not tell you how quick +and resolute she was? Would she not have made an admirable queen? +Is it not a pity that she was not on my level?" + +"From what I have seen of the lady she seems indeed to be on a +very different level to your Majesty," said Holmes coldly. "I am +sorry that I have not been able to bring your Majesty's business +to a more successful conclusion." + +"On the contrary, my dear sir," cried the King; "nothing could be +more successful. I know that her word is inviolate. The +photograph is now as safe as if it were in the fire." + +"I am glad to hear your Majesty say so." + +"I am immensely indebted to you. Pray tell me in what way I can +reward you. This ring--" He slipped an emerald snake ring from +his finger and held it out upon the palm of his hand. + +"Your Majesty has something which I should value even more +highly," said Holmes. + +"You have but to name it." + +"This photograph!" + +The King stared at him in amazement. + +"Irene's photograph!" he cried. "Certainly, if you wish it." + +"I thank your Majesty. Then there is no more to be done in the +matter. I have the honour to wish you a very good-morning." He +bowed, and, turning away without observing the hand which the +King had stretched out to him, he set off in my company for his +chambers. + +And that was how a great scandal threatened to affect the kingdom +of Bohemia, and how the best plans of Mr. Sherlock Holmes were +beaten by a woman's wit. He used to make merry over the +cleverness of women, but I have not heard him do it of late. And +when he speaks of Irene Adler, or when he refers to her +photograph, it is always under the honourable title of the woman. + + + +ADVENTURE II. THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE + +I had called upon my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, one day in the +autumn of last year and found him in deep conversation with a +very stout, florid-faced, elderly gentleman with fiery red hair. +With an apology for my intrusion, I was about to withdraw when +Holmes pulled me abruptly into the room and closed the door +behind me. + +"You could not possibly have come at a better time, my dear +Watson," he said cordially. + +"I was afraid that you were engaged." + +"So I am. Very much so." + +"Then I can wait in the next room." + +"Not at all. This gentleman, Mr. Wilson, has been my partner and +helper in many of my most successful cases, and I have no +doubt that he will be of the utmost use to me in yours also." + +The stout gentleman half rose from his chair and gave a bob of +greeting, with a quick little questioning glance from his small +fat-encircled eyes. + +"Try the settee," said Holmes, relapsing into his armchair and +putting his fingertips together, as was his custom when in +judicial moods. "I know, my dear Watson, that you share my love +of all that is bizarre and outside the conventions and humdrum +routine of everyday life. You have shown your relish for it by +the enthusiasm which has prompted you to chronicle, and, if you +will excuse my saying so, somewhat to embellish so many of my own +little adventures." + +"Your cases have indeed been of the greatest interest to me," I +observed. + +"You will remember that I remarked the other day, just before we +went into the very simple problem presented by Miss Mary +Sutherland, that for strange effects and extraordinary +combinations we must go to life itself, which is always far more +daring than any effort of the imagination." + +"A proposition which I took the liberty of doubting." + +"You did, Doctor, but none the less you must come round to my +view, for otherwise I shall keep on piling fact upon fact on you +until your reason breaks down under them and acknowledges me to +be right. Now, Mr. Jabez Wilson here has been good enough to call +upon me this morning, and to begin a narrative which promises to +be one of the most singular which I have listened to for some +time. You have heard me remark that the strangest and most unique +things are very often connected not with the larger but with the +smaller crimes, and occasionally, indeed, where there is room for +doubt whether any positive crime has been committed. As far as I +have heard it is impossible for me to say whether the present +case is an instance of crime or not, but the course of events is +certainly among the most singular that I have ever listened to. +Perhaps, Mr. Wilson, you would have the great kindness to +recommence your narrative. I ask you not merely because my friend +Dr. Watson has not heard the opening part but also because the +peculiar nature of the story makes me anxious to have every +possible detail from your lips. As a rule, when I have heard some +slight indication of the course of events, I am able to guide +myself by the thousands of other similar cases which occur to my +memory. In the present instance I am forced to admit that the +facts are, to the best of my belief, unique." + +The portly client puffed out his chest with an appearance of some +little pride and pulled a dirty and wrinkled newspaper from the +inside pocket of his greatcoat. As he glanced down the +advertisement column, with his head thrust forward and the paper +flattened out upon his knee, I took a good look at the man and +endeavoured, after the fashion of my companion, to read the +indications which might be presented by his dress or appearance. + +I did not gain very much, however, by my inspection. Our visitor +bore every mark of being an average commonplace British +tradesman, obese, pompous, and slow. He wore rather baggy grey +shepherd's check trousers, a not over-clean black frock-coat, +unbuttoned in the front, and a drab waistcoat with a heavy brassy +Albert chain, and a square pierced bit of metal dangling down as +an ornament. A frayed top-hat and a faded brown overcoat with a +wrinkled velvet collar lay upon a chair beside him. Altogether, +look as I would, there was nothing remarkable about the man save +his blazing red head, and the expression of extreme chagrin and +discontent upon his features. + +Sherlock Holmes' quick eye took in my occupation, and he shook +his head with a smile as he noticed my questioning glances. +"Beyond the obvious facts that he has at some time done manual +labour, that he takes snuff, that he is a Freemason, that he has +been in China, and that he has done a considerable amount of +writing lately, I can deduce nothing else." + +Mr. Jabez Wilson started up in his chair, with his forefinger +upon the paper, but his eyes upon my companion. + +"How, in the name of good-fortune, did you know all that, Mr. +Holmes?" he asked. "How did you know, for example, that I did +manual labour. It's as true as gospel, for I began as a ship's +carpenter." + +"Your hands, my dear sir. Your right hand is quite a size larger +than your left. You have worked with it, and the muscles are more +developed." + +"Well, the snuff, then, and the Freemasonry?" + +"I won't insult your intelligence by telling you how I read that, +especially as, rather against the strict rules of your order, you +use an arc-and-compass breastpin." + +"Ah, of course, I forgot that. But the writing?" + +"What else can be indicated by that right cuff so very shiny for +five inches, and the left one with the smooth patch near the +elbow where you rest it upon the desk?" + +"Well, but China?" + +"The fish that you have tattooed immediately above your right +wrist could only have been done in China. I have made a small +study of tattoo marks and have even contributed to the literature +of the subject. That trick of staining the fishes' scales of a +delicate pink is quite peculiar to China. When, in addition, I +see a Chinese coin hanging from your watch-chain, the matter +becomes even more simple." + +Mr. Jabez Wilson laughed heavily. "Well, I never!" said he. "I +thought at first that you had done something clever, but I see +that there was nothing in it, after all." + +"I begin to think, Watson," said Holmes, "that I make a mistake +in explaining. 'Omne ignotum pro magnifico,' you know, and my +poor little reputation, such as it is, will suffer shipwreck if I +am so candid. Can you not find the advertisement, Mr. Wilson?" + +"Yes, I have got it now," he answered with his thick red finger +planted halfway down the column. "Here it is. This is what began +it all. You just read it for yourself, sir." + +I took the paper from him and read as follows: + +"TO THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE: On account of the bequest of the late +Ezekiah Hopkins, of Lebanon, Pennsylvania, U. S. A., there is now +another vacancy open which entitles a member of the League to a +salary of 4 pounds a week for purely nominal services. All +red-headed men who are sound in body and mind and above the age +of twenty-one years, are eligible. Apply in person on Monday, at +eleven o'clock, to Duncan Ross, at the offices of the League, 7 +Pope's Court, Fleet Street." + +"What on earth does this mean?" I ejaculated after I had twice +read over the extraordinary announcement. + +Holmes chuckled and wriggled in his chair, as was his habit when +in high spirits. "It is a little off the beaten track, isn't it?" +said he. "And now, Mr. Wilson, off you go at scratch and tell us +all about yourself, your household, and the effect which this +advertisement had upon your fortunes. You will first make a note, +Doctor, of the paper and the date." + +"It is The Morning Chronicle of April 27, 1890. Just two months +ago." + +"Very good. Now, Mr. Wilson?" + +"Well, it is just as I have been telling you, Mr. Sherlock +Holmes," said Jabez Wilson, mopping his forehead; "I have a small +pawnbroker's business at Coburg Square, near the City. It's not a +very large affair, and of late years it has not done more than +just give me a living. I used to be able to keep two assistants, +but now I only keep one; and I would have a job to pay him but +that he is willing to come for half wages so as to learn the +business." + +"What is the name of this obliging youth?" asked Sherlock Holmes. + +"His name is Vincent Spaulding, and he's not such a youth, +either. It's hard to say his age. I should not wish a smarter +assistant, Mr. Holmes; and I know very well that he could better +himself and earn twice what I am able to give him. But, after +all, if he is satisfied, why should I put ideas in his head?" + +"Why, indeed? You seem most fortunate in having an employe who +comes under the full market price. It is not a common experience +among employers in this age. I don't know that your assistant is +not as remarkable as your advertisement." + +"Oh, he has his faults, too," said Mr. Wilson. "Never was such a +fellow for photography. Snapping away with a camera when he ought +to be improving his mind, and then diving down into the cellar +like a rabbit into its hole to develop his pictures. That is his +main fault, but on the whole he's a good worker. There's no vice +in him." + +"He is still with you, I presume?" + +"Yes, sir. He and a girl of fourteen, who does a bit of simple +cooking and keeps the place clean--that's all I have in the +house, for I am a widower and never had any family. We live very +quietly, sir, the three of us; and we keep a roof over our heads +and pay our debts, if we do nothing more. + +"The first thing that put us out was that advertisement. +Spaulding, he came down into the office just this day eight +weeks, with this very paper in his hand, and he says: + +"'I wish to the Lord, Mr. Wilson, that I was a red-headed man.' + +"'Why that?' I asks. + +"'Why,' says he, 'here's another vacancy on the League of the +Red-headed Men. It's worth quite a little fortune to any man who +gets it, and I understand that there are more vacancies than +there are men, so that the trustees are at their wits' end what +to do with the money. If my hair would only change colour, here's +a nice little crib all ready for me to step into.' + +"'Why, what is it, then?' I asked. You see, Mr. Holmes, I am a +very stay-at-home man, and as my business came to me instead of +my having to go to it, I was often weeks on end without putting +my foot over the door-mat. In that way I didn't know much of what +was going on outside, and I was always glad of a bit of news. + +"'Have you never heard of the League of the Red-headed Men?' he +asked with his eyes open. + +"'Never.' + +"'Why, I wonder at that, for you are eligible yourself for one +of the vacancies.' + +"'And what are they worth?' I asked. + +"'Oh, merely a couple of hundred a year, but the work is slight, +and it need not interfere very much with one's other +occupations.' + +"Well, you can easily think that that made me prick up my ears, +for the business has not been over-good for some years, and an +extra couple of hundred would have been very handy. + +"'Tell me all about it,' said I. + +"'Well,' said he, showing me the advertisement, 'you can see for +yourself that the League has a vacancy, and there is the address +where you should apply for particulars. As far as I can make out, +the League was founded by an American millionaire, Ezekiah +Hopkins, who was very peculiar in his ways. He was himself +red-headed, and he had a great sympathy for all red-headed men; +so when he died it was found that he had left his enormous +fortune in the hands of trustees, with instructions to apply the +interest to the providing of easy berths to men whose hair is of +that colour. From all I hear it is splendid pay and very little to +do.' + +"'But,' said I, 'there would be millions of red-headed men who +would apply.' + +"'Not so many as you might think,' he answered. 'You see it is +really confined to Londoners, and to grown men. This American had +started from London when he was young, and he wanted to do the +old town a good turn. Then, again, I have heard it is no use your +applying if your hair is light red, or dark red, or anything but +real bright, blazing, fiery red. Now, if you cared to apply, Mr. +Wilson, you would just walk in; but perhaps it would hardly be +worth your while to put yourself out of the way for the sake of a +few hundred pounds.' + +"Now, it is a fact, gentlemen, as you may see for yourselves, +that my hair is of a very full and rich tint, so that it seemed +to me that if there was to be any competition in the matter I +stood as good a chance as any man that I had ever met. Vincent +Spaulding seemed to know so much about it that I thought he might +prove useful, so I just ordered him to put up the shutters for +the day and to come right away with me. He was very willing to +have a holiday, so we shut the business up and started off for +the address that was given us in the advertisement. + +"I never hope to see such a sight as that again, Mr. Holmes. From +north, south, east, and west every man who had a shade of red in +his hair had tramped into the city to answer the advertisement. +Fleet Street was choked with red-headed folk, and Pope's Court +looked like a coster's orange barrow. I should not have thought +there were so many in the whole country as were brought together +by that single advertisement. Every shade of colour they +were--straw, lemon, orange, brick, Irish-setter, liver, clay; +but, as Spaulding said, there were not many who had the real +vivid flame-coloured tint. When I saw how many were waiting, I +would have given it up in despair; but Spaulding would not hear +of it. How he did it I could not imagine, but he pushed and +pulled and butted until he got me through the crowd, and right up +to the steps which led to the office. There was a double stream +upon the stair, some going up in hope, and some coming back +dejected; but we wedged in as well as we could and soon found +ourselves in the office." + +"Your experience has been a most entertaining one," remarked +Holmes as his client paused and refreshed his memory with a huge +pinch of snuff. "Pray continue your very interesting statement." + +"There was nothing in the office but a couple of wooden chairs +and a deal table, behind which sat a small man with a head that +was even redder than mine. He said a few words to each candidate +as he came up, and then he always managed to find some fault in +them which would disqualify them. Getting a vacancy did not seem +to be such a very easy matter, after all. However, when our turn +came the little man was much more favourable to me than to any of +the others, and he closed the door as we entered, so that he +might have a private word with us. + +"'This is Mr. Jabez Wilson,' said my assistant, 'and he is +willing to fill a vacancy in the League.' + +"'And he is admirably suited for it,' the other answered. 'He has +every requirement. I cannot recall when I have seen anything so +fine.' He took a step backward, cocked his head on one side, and +gazed at my hair until I felt quite bashful. Then suddenly he +plunged forward, wrung my hand, and congratulated me warmly on my +success. + +"'It would be injustice to hesitate,' said he. 'You will, +however, I am sure, excuse me for taking an obvious precaution.' +With that he seized my hair in both his hands, and tugged until I +yelled with the pain. 'There is water in your eyes,' said he as +he released me. 'I perceive that all is as it should be. But we +have to be careful, for we have twice been deceived by wigs and +once by paint. I could tell you tales of cobbler's wax which +would disgust you with human nature.' He stepped over to the +window and shouted through it at the top of his voice that the +vacancy was filled. A groan of disappointment came up from below, +and the folk all trooped away in different directions until there +was not a red-head to be seen except my own and that of the +manager. + +"'My name,' said he, 'is Mr. Duncan Ross, and I am myself one of +the pensioners upon the fund left by our noble benefactor. Are +you a married man, Mr. Wilson? Have you a family?' + +"I answered that I had not. + +"His face fell immediately. + +"'Dear me!' he said gravely, 'that is very serious indeed! I am +sorry to hear you say that. The fund was, of course, for the +propagation and spread of the red-heads as well as for their +maintenance. It is exceedingly unfortunate that you should be a +bachelor.' + +"My face lengthened at this, Mr. Holmes, for I thought that I was +not to have the vacancy after all; but after thinking it over for +a few minutes he said that it would be all right. + +"'In the case of another,' said he, 'the objection might be +fatal, but we must stretch a point in favour of a man with such a +head of hair as yours. When shall you be able to enter upon your +new duties?' + +"'Well, it is a little awkward, for I have a business already,' +said I. + +"'Oh, never mind about that, Mr. Wilson!' said Vincent Spaulding. +'I should be able to look after that for you.' + +"'What would be the hours?' I asked. + +"'Ten to two.' + +"Now a pawnbroker's business is mostly done of an evening, Mr. +Holmes, especially Thursday and Friday evening, which is just +before pay-day; so it would suit me very well to earn a little in +the mornings. Besides, I knew that my assistant was a good man, +and that he would see to anything that turned up. + +"'That would suit me very well,' said I. 'And the pay?' + +"'Is 4 pounds a week.' + +"'And the work?' + +"'Is purely nominal.' + +"'What do you call purely nominal?' + +"'Well, you have to be in the office, or at least in the +building, the whole time. If you leave, you forfeit your whole +position forever. The will is very clear upon that point. You +don't comply with the conditions if you budge from the office +during that time.' + +"'It's only four hours a day, and I should not think of leaving,' +said I. + +"'No excuse will avail,' said Mr. Duncan Ross; 'neither sickness +nor business nor anything else. There you must stay, or you lose +your billet.' + +"'And the work?' + +"'Is to copy out the "Encyclopaedia Britannica." There is the first +volume of it in that press. You must find your own ink, pens, and +blotting-paper, but we provide this table and chair. Will you be +ready to-morrow?' + +"'Certainly,' I answered. + +"'Then, good-bye, Mr. Jabez Wilson, and let me congratulate you +once more on the important position which you have been fortunate +enough to gain.' He bowed me out of the room and I went home with +my assistant, hardly knowing what to say or do, I was so pleased +at my own good fortune. + +"Well, I thought over the matter all day, and by evening I was in +low spirits again; for I had quite persuaded myself that the +whole affair must be some great hoax or fraud, though what its +object might be I could not imagine. It seemed altogether past +belief that anyone could make such a will, or that they would pay +such a sum for doing anything so simple as copying out the +'Encyclopaedia Britannica.' Vincent Spaulding did what he could to +cheer me up, but by bedtime I had reasoned myself out of the +whole thing. However, in the morning I determined to have a look +at it anyhow, so I bought a penny bottle of ink, and with a +quill-pen, and seven sheets of foolscap paper, I started off for +Pope's Court. + +"Well, to my surprise and delight, everything was as right as +possible. The table was set out ready for me, and Mr. Duncan Ross +was there to see that I got fairly to work. He started me off +upon the letter A, and then he left me; but he would drop in from +time to time to see that all was right with me. At two o'clock he +bade me good-day, complimented me upon the amount that I had +written, and locked the door of the office after me. + +"This went on day after day, Mr. Holmes, and on Saturday the +manager came in and planked down four golden sovereigns for my +week's work. It was the same next week, and the same the week +after. Every morning I was there at ten, and every afternoon I +left at two. By degrees Mr. Duncan Ross took to coming in only +once of a morning, and then, after a time, he did not come in at +all. Still, of course, I never dared to leave the room for an +instant, for I was not sure when he might come, and the billet +was such a good one, and suited me so well, that I would not risk +the loss of it. + +"Eight weeks passed away like this, and I had written about +Abbots and Archery and Armour and Architecture and Attica, and +hoped with diligence that I might get on to the B's before very +long. It cost me something in foolscap, and I had pretty nearly +filled a shelf with my writings. And then suddenly the whole +business came to an end." + +"To an end?" + +"Yes, sir. And no later than this morning. I went to my work as +usual at ten o'clock, but the door was shut and locked, with a +little square of cardboard hammered on to the middle of the +panel with a tack. Here it is, and you can read for yourself." + +He held up a piece of white cardboard about the size of a sheet +of note-paper. It read in this fashion: + + THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE + + IS + + DISSOLVED. + + October 9, 1890. + +Sherlock Holmes and I surveyed this curt announcement and the +rueful face behind it, until the comical side of the affair so +completely overtopped every other consideration that we both +burst out into a roar of laughter. + +"I cannot see that there is anything very funny," cried our +client, flushing up to the roots of his flaming head. "If you can +do nothing better than laugh at me, I can go elsewhere." + +"No, no," cried Holmes, shoving him back into the chair from +which he had half risen. "I really wouldn't miss your case for +the world. It is most refreshingly unusual. But there is, if you +will excuse my saying so, something just a little funny about it. +Pray what steps did you take when you found the card upon the +door?" + +"I was staggered, sir. I did not know what to do. Then I called +at the offices round, but none of them seemed to know anything +about it. Finally, I went to the landlord, who is an accountant +living on the ground-floor, and I asked him if he could tell me +what had become of the Red-headed League. He said that he had +never heard of any such body. Then I asked him who Mr. Duncan +Ross was. He answered that the name was new to him. + +"'Well,' said I, 'the gentleman at No. 4.' + +"'What, the red-headed man?' + +"'Yes.' + +"'Oh,' said he, 'his name was William Morris. He was a solicitor +and was using my room as a temporary convenience until his new +premises were ready. He moved out yesterday.' + +"'Where could I find him?' + +"'Oh, at his new offices. He did tell me the address. Yes, 17 +King Edward Street, near St. Paul's.' + +"I started off, Mr. Holmes, but when I got to that address it was +a manufactory of artificial knee-caps, and no one in it had ever +heard of either Mr. William Morris or Mr. Duncan Ross." + +"And what did you do then?" asked Holmes. + +"I went home to Saxe-Coburg Square, and I took the advice of my +assistant. But he could not help me in any way. He could only say +that if I waited I should hear by post. But that was not quite +good enough, Mr. Holmes. I did not wish to lose such a place +without a struggle, so, as I had heard that you were good enough +to give advice to poor folk who were in need of it, I came right +away to you." + +"And you did very wisely," said Holmes. "Your case is an +exceedingly remarkable one, and I shall be happy to look into it. +From what you have told me I think that it is possible that +graver issues hang from it than might at first sight appear." + +"Grave enough!" said Mr. Jabez Wilson. "Why, I have lost four +pound a week." + +"As far as you are personally concerned," remarked Holmes, "I do +not see that you have any grievance against this extraordinary +league. On the contrary, you are, as I understand, richer by some +30 pounds, to say nothing of the minute knowledge which you have +gained on every subject which comes under the letter A. You have +lost nothing by them." + +"No, sir. But I want to find out about them, and who they are, +and what their object was in playing this prank--if it was a +prank--upon me. It was a pretty expensive joke for them, for it +cost them two and thirty pounds." + +"We shall endeavour to clear up these points for you. And, first, +one or two questions, Mr. Wilson. This assistant of yours who +first called your attention to the advertisement--how long had he +been with you?" + +"About a month then." + +"How did he come?" + +"In answer to an advertisement." + +"Was he the only applicant?" + +"No, I had a dozen." + +"Why did you pick him?" + +"Because he was handy and would come cheap." + +"At half-wages, in fact." + +"Yes." + +"What is he like, this Vincent Spaulding?" + +"Small, stout-built, very quick in his ways, no hair on his face, +though he's not short of thirty. Has a white splash of acid upon +his forehead." + +Holmes sat up in his chair in considerable excitement. "I thought +as much," said he. "Have you ever observed that his ears are +pierced for earrings?" + +"Yes, sir. He told me that a gipsy had done it for him when he +was a lad." + +"Hum!" said Holmes, sinking back in deep thought. "He is still +with you?" + +"Oh, yes, sir; I have only just left him." + +"And has your business been attended to in your absence?" + +"Nothing to complain of, sir. There's never very much to do of a +morning." + +"That will do, Mr. Wilson. I shall be happy to give you an +opinion upon the subject in the course of a day or two. To-day is +Saturday, and I hope that by Monday we may come to a conclusion." + +"Well, Watson," said Holmes when our visitor had left us, "what +do you make of it all?" + +"I make nothing of it," I answered frankly. "It is a most +mysterious business." + +"As a rule," said Holmes, "the more bizarre a thing is the less +mysterious it proves to be. It is your commonplace, featureless +crimes which are really puzzling, just as a commonplace face is +the most difficult to identify. But I must be prompt over this +matter." + +"What are you going to do, then?" I asked. + +"To smoke," he answered. "It is quite a three pipe problem, and I +beg that you won't speak to me for fifty minutes." He curled +himself up in his chair, with his thin knees drawn up to his +hawk-like nose, and there he sat with his eyes closed and his +black clay pipe thrusting out like the bill of some strange bird. +I had come to the conclusion that he had dropped asleep, and +indeed was nodding myself, when he suddenly sprang out of his +chair with the gesture of a man who has made up his mind and put +his pipe down upon the mantelpiece. + +"Sarasate plays at the St. James's Hall this afternoon," he +remarked. "What do you think, Watson? Could your patients spare +you for a few hours?" + +"I have nothing to do to-day. My practice is never very +absorbing." + +"Then put on your hat and come. I am going through the City +first, and we can have some lunch on the way. I observe that +there is a good deal of German music on the programme, which is +rather more to my taste than Italian or French. It is +introspective, and I want to introspect. Come along!" + +We travelled by the Underground as far as Aldersgate; and a short +walk took us to Saxe-Coburg Square, the scene of the singular +story which we had listened to in the morning. It was a poky, +little, shabby-genteel place, where four lines of dingy +two-storied brick houses looked out into a small railed-in +enclosure, where a lawn of weedy grass and a few clumps of faded +laurel-bushes made a hard fight against a smoke-laden and +uncongenial atmosphere. Three gilt balls and a brown board with +"JABEZ WILSON" in white letters, upon a corner house, announced +the place where our red-headed client carried on his business. +Sherlock Holmes stopped in front of it with his head on one side +and looked it all over, with his eyes shining brightly between +puckered lids. Then he walked slowly up the street, and then down +again to the corner, still looking keenly at the houses. Finally +he returned to the pawnbroker's, and, having thumped vigorously +upon the pavement with his stick two or three times, he went up +to the door and knocked. It was instantly opened by a +bright-looking, clean-shaven young fellow, who asked him to step +in. + +"Thank you," said Holmes, "I only wished to ask you how you would +go from here to the Strand." + +"Third right, fourth left," answered the assistant promptly, +closing the door. + +"Smart fellow, that," observed Holmes as we walked away. "He is, +in my judgment, the fourth smartest man in London, and for daring +I am not sure that he has not a claim to be third. I have known +something of him before." + +"Evidently," said I, "Mr. Wilson's assistant counts for a good +deal in this mystery of the Red-headed League. I am sure that you +inquired your way merely in order that you might see him." + +"Not him." + +"What then?" + +"The knees of his trousers." + +"And what did you see?" + +"What I expected to see." + +"Why did you beat the pavement?" + +"My dear doctor, this is a time for observation, not for talk. We +are spies in an enemy's country. We know something of Saxe-Coburg +Square. Let us now explore the parts which lie behind it." + +The road in which we found ourselves as we turned round the +corner from the retired Saxe-Coburg Square presented as great a +contrast to it as the front of a picture does to the back. It was +one of the main arteries which conveyed the traffic of the City +to the north and west. The roadway was blocked with the immense +stream of commerce flowing in a double tide inward and outward, +while the footpaths were black with the hurrying swarm of +pedestrians. It was difficult to realise as we looked at the line +of fine shops and stately business premises that they really +abutted on the other side upon the faded and stagnant square +which we had just quitted. + +"Let me see," said Holmes, standing at the corner and glancing +along the line, "I should like just to remember the order of the +houses here. It is a hobby of mine to have an exact knowledge of +London. There is Mortimer's, the tobacconist, the little +newspaper shop, the Coburg branch of the City and Suburban Bank, +the Vegetarian Restaurant, and McFarlane's carriage-building +depot. That carries us right on to the other block. And now, +Doctor, we've done our work, so it's time we had some play. A +sandwich and a cup of coffee, and then off to violin-land, where +all is sweetness and delicacy and harmony, and there are no +red-headed clients to vex us with their conundrums." + +My friend was an enthusiastic musician, being himself not only a +very capable performer but a composer of no ordinary merit. All +the afternoon he sat in the stalls wrapped in the most perfect +happiness, gently waving his long, thin fingers in time to the +music, while his gently smiling face and his languid, dreamy eyes +were as unlike those of Holmes the sleuth-hound, Holmes the +relentless, keen-witted, ready-handed criminal agent, as it was +possible to conceive. In his singular character the dual nature +alternately asserted itself, and his extreme exactness and +astuteness represented, as I have often thought, the reaction +against the poetic and contemplative mood which occasionally +predominated in him. The swing of his nature took him from +extreme languor to devouring energy; and, as I knew well, he was +never so truly formidable as when, for days on end, he had been +lounging in his armchair amid his improvisations and his +black-letter editions. Then it was that the lust of the chase +would suddenly come upon him, and that his brilliant reasoning +power would rise to the level of intuition, until those who were +unacquainted with his methods would look askance at him as on a +man whose knowledge was not that of other mortals. When I saw him +that afternoon so enwrapped in the music at St. James's Hall I +felt that an evil time might be coming upon those whom he had set +himself to hunt down. + +"You want to go home, no doubt, Doctor," he remarked as we +emerged. + +"Yes, it would be as well." + +"And I have some business to do which will take some hours. This +business at Coburg Square is serious." + +"Why serious?" + +"A considerable crime is in contemplation. I have every reason to +believe that we shall be in time to stop it. But to-day being +Saturday rather complicates matters. I shall want your help +to-night." + +"At what time?" + +"Ten will be early enough." + +"I shall be at Baker Street at ten." + +"Very well. And, I say, Doctor, there may be some little danger, +so kindly put your army revolver in your pocket." He waved his +hand, turned on his heel, and disappeared in an instant among the +crowd. + +I trust that I am not more dense than my neighbours, but I was +always oppressed with a sense of my own stupidity in my dealings +with Sherlock Holmes. Here I had heard what he had heard, I had +seen what he had seen, and yet from his words it was evident that +he saw clearly not only what had happened but what was about to +happen, while to me the whole business was still confused and +grotesque. As I drove home to my house in Kensington I thought +over it all, from the extraordinary story of the red-headed +copier of the "Encyclopaedia" down to the visit to Saxe-Coburg +Square, and the ominous words with which he had parted from me. +What was this nocturnal expedition, and why should I go armed? +Where were we going, and what were we to do? I had the hint from +Holmes that this smooth-faced pawnbroker's assistant was a +formidable man--a man who might play a deep game. I tried to +puzzle it out, but gave it up in despair and set the matter aside +until night should bring an explanation. + +It was a quarter-past nine when I started from home and made my +way across the Park, and so through Oxford Street to Baker +Street. Two hansoms were standing at the door, and as I entered +the passage I heard the sound of voices from above. On entering +his room I found Holmes in animated conversation with two men, +one of whom I recognised as Peter Jones, the official police +agent, while the other was a long, thin, sad-faced man, with a +very shiny hat and oppressively respectable frock-coat. + +"Ha! Our party is complete," said Holmes, buttoning up his +pea-jacket and taking his heavy hunting crop from the rack. +"Watson, I think you know Mr. Jones, of Scotland Yard? Let me +introduce you to Mr. Merryweather, who is to be our companion in +to-night's adventure." + +"We're hunting in couples again, Doctor, you see," said Jones in +his consequential way. "Our friend here is a wonderful man for +starting a chase. All he wants is an old dog to help him to do +the running down." + +"I hope a wild goose may not prove to be the end of our chase," +observed Mr. Merryweather gloomily. + +"You may place considerable confidence in Mr. Holmes, sir," said +the police agent loftily. "He has his own little methods, which +are, if he won't mind my saying so, just a little too theoretical +and fantastic, but he has the makings of a detective in him. It +is not too much to say that once or twice, as in that business of +the Sholto murder and the Agra treasure, he has been more nearly +correct than the official force." + +"Oh, if you say so, Mr. Jones, it is all right," said the +stranger with deference. "Still, I confess that I miss my rubber. +It is the first Saturday night for seven-and-twenty years that I +have not had my rubber." + +"I think you will find," said Sherlock Holmes, "that you will +play for a higher stake to-night than you have ever done yet, and +that the play will be more exciting. For you, Mr. Merryweather, +the stake will be some 30,000 pounds; and for you, Jones, it will +be the man upon whom you wish to lay your hands." + +"John Clay, the murderer, thief, smasher, and forger. He's a +young man, Mr. Merryweather, but he is at the head of his +profession, and I would rather have my bracelets on him than on +any criminal in London. He's a remarkable man, is young John +Clay. His grandfather was a royal duke, and he himself has been +to Eton and Oxford. His brain is as cunning as his fingers, and +though we meet signs of him at every turn, we never know where to +find the man himself. He'll crack a crib in Scotland one week, +and be raising money to build an orphanage in Cornwall the next. +I've been on his track for years and have never set eyes on him +yet." + +"I hope that I may have the pleasure of introducing you to-night. +I've had one or two little turns also with Mr. John Clay, and I +agree with you that he is at the head of his profession. It is +past ten, however, and quite time that we started. If you two +will take the first hansom, Watson and I will follow in the +second." + +Sherlock Holmes was not very communicative during the long drive +and lay back in the cab humming the tunes which he had heard in +the afternoon. We rattled through an endless labyrinth of gas-lit +streets until we emerged into Farrington Street. + +"We are close there now," my friend remarked. "This fellow +Merryweather is a bank director, and personally interested in the +matter. I thought it as well to have Jones with us also. He is +not a bad fellow, though an absolute imbecile in his profession. +He has one positive virtue. He is as brave as a bulldog and as +tenacious as a lobster if he gets his claws upon anyone. Here we +are, and they are waiting for us." + +We had reached the same crowded thoroughfare in which we had +found ourselves in the morning. Our cabs were dismissed, and, +following the guidance of Mr. Merryweather, we passed down a +narrow passage and through a side door, which he opened for us. +Within there was a small corridor, which ended in a very massive +iron gate. This also was opened, and led down a flight of winding +stone steps, which terminated at another formidable gate. Mr. +Merryweather stopped to light a lantern, and then conducted us +down a dark, earth-smelling passage, and so, after opening a +third door, into a huge vault or cellar, which was piled all +round with crates and massive boxes. + +"You are not very vulnerable from above," Holmes remarked as he +held up the lantern and gazed about him. + +"Nor from below," said Mr. Merryweather, striking his stick upon +the flags which lined the floor. "Why, dear me, it sounds quite +hollow!" he remarked, looking up in surprise. + +"I must really ask you to be a little more quiet!" said Holmes +severely. "You have already imperilled the whole success of our +expedition. Might I beg that you would have the goodness to sit +down upon one of those boxes, and not to interfere?" + +The solemn Mr. Merryweather perched himself upon a crate, with a +very injured expression upon his face, while Holmes fell upon his +knees upon the floor and, with the lantern and a magnifying lens, +began to examine minutely the cracks between the stones. A few +seconds sufficed to satisfy him, for he sprang to his feet again +and put his glass in his pocket. + +"We have at least an hour before us," he remarked, "for they can +hardly take any steps until the good pawnbroker is safely in bed. +Then they will not lose a minute, for the sooner they do their +work the longer time they will have for their escape. We are at +present, Doctor--as no doubt you have divined--in the cellar of +the City branch of one of the principal London banks. Mr. +Merryweather is the chairman of directors, and he will explain to +you that there are reasons why the more daring criminals of +London should take a considerable interest in this cellar at +present." + +"It is our French gold," whispered the director. "We have had +several warnings that an attempt might be made upon it." + +"Your French gold?" + +"Yes. We had occasion some months ago to strengthen our resources +and borrowed for that purpose 30,000 napoleons from the Bank of +France. It has become known that we have never had occasion to +unpack the money, and that it is still lying in our cellar. The +crate upon which I sit contains 2,000 napoleons packed between +layers of lead foil. Our reserve of bullion is much larger at +present than is usually kept in a single branch office, and the +directors have had misgivings upon the subject." + +"Which were very well justified," observed Holmes. "And now it is +time that we arranged our little plans. I expect that within an +hour matters will come to a head. In the meantime Mr. +Merryweather, we must put the screen over that dark lantern." + +"And sit in the dark?" + +"I am afraid so. I had brought a pack of cards in my pocket, and +I thought that, as we were a partie carree, you might have your +rubber after all. But I see that the enemy's preparations have +gone so far that we cannot risk the presence of a light. And, +first of all, we must choose our positions. These are daring men, +and though we shall take them at a disadvantage, they may do us +some harm unless we are careful. I shall stand behind this crate, +and do you conceal yourselves behind those. Then, when I flash a +light upon them, close in swiftly. If they fire, Watson, have no +compunction about shooting them down." + +I placed my revolver, cocked, upon the top of the wooden case +behind which I crouched. Holmes shot the slide across the front +of his lantern and left us in pitch darkness--such an absolute +darkness as I have never before experienced. The smell of hot +metal remained to assure us that the light was still there, ready +to flash out at a moment's notice. To me, with my nerves worked +up to a pitch of expectancy, there was something depressing and +subduing in the sudden gloom, and in the cold dank air of the +vault. + +"They have but one retreat," whispered Holmes. "That is back +through the house into Saxe-Coburg Square. I hope that you have +done what I asked you, Jones?" + +"I have an inspector and two officers waiting at the front door." + +"Then we have stopped all the holes. And now we must be silent +and wait." + +What a time it seemed! From comparing notes afterwards it was but +an hour and a quarter, yet it appeared to me that the night must +have almost gone and the dawn be breaking above us. My limbs +were weary and stiff, for I feared to change my position; yet my +nerves were worked up to the highest pitch of tension, and my +hearing was so acute that I could not only hear the gentle +breathing of my companions, but I could distinguish the deeper, +heavier in-breath of the bulky Jones from the thin, sighing note +of the bank director. From my position I could look over the case +in the direction of the floor. Suddenly my eyes caught the glint +of a light. + +At first it was but a lurid spark upon the stone pavement. Then +it lengthened out until it became a yellow line, and then, +without any warning or sound, a gash seemed to open and a hand +appeared, a white, almost womanly hand, which felt about in the +centre of the little area of light. For a minute or more the +hand, with its writhing fingers, protruded out of the floor. Then +it was withdrawn as suddenly as it appeared, and all was dark +again save the single lurid spark which marked a chink between +the stones. + +Its disappearance, however, was but momentary. With a rending, +tearing sound, one of the broad, white stones turned over upon +its side and left a square, gaping hole, through which streamed +the light of a lantern. Over the edge there peeped a clean-cut, +boyish face, which looked keenly about it, and then, with a hand +on either side of the aperture, drew itself shoulder-high and +waist-high, until one knee rested upon the edge. In another +instant he stood at the side of the hole and was hauling after +him a companion, lithe and small like himself, with a pale face +and a shock of very red hair. + +"It's all clear," he whispered. "Have you the chisel and the +bags? Great Scott! Jump, Archie, jump, and I'll swing for it!" + +Sherlock Holmes had sprung out and seized the intruder by the +collar. The other dived down the hole, and I heard the sound of +rending cloth as Jones clutched at his skirts. The light flashed +upon the barrel of a revolver, but Holmes' hunting crop came +down on the man's wrist, and the pistol clinked upon the stone +floor. + +"It's no use, John Clay," said Holmes blandly. "You have no +chance at all." + +"So I see," the other answered with the utmost coolness. "I fancy +that my pal is all right, though I see you have got his +coat-tails." + +"There are three men waiting for him at the door," said Holmes. + +"Oh, indeed! You seem to have done the thing very completely. I +must compliment you." + +"And I you," Holmes answered. "Your red-headed idea was very new +and effective." + +"You'll see your pal again presently," said Jones. "He's quicker +at climbing down holes than I am. Just hold out while I fix the +derbies." + +"I beg that you will not touch me with your filthy hands," +remarked our prisoner as the handcuffs clattered upon his wrists. +"You may not be aware that I have royal blood in my veins. Have +the goodness, also, when you address me always to say 'sir' and +'please.'" + +"All right," said Jones with a stare and a snigger. "Well, would +you please, sir, march upstairs, where we can get a cab to carry +your Highness to the police-station?" + +"That is better," said John Clay serenely. He made a sweeping bow +to the three of us and walked quietly off in the custody of the +detective. + +"Really, Mr. Holmes," said Mr. Merryweather as we followed them +from the cellar, "I do not know how the bank can thank you or +repay you. There is no doubt that you have detected and defeated +in the most complete manner one of the most determined attempts +at bank robbery that have ever come within my experience." + +"I have had one or two little scores of my own to settle with Mr. +John Clay," said Holmes. "I have been at some small expense over +this matter, which I shall expect the bank to refund, but beyond +that I am amply repaid by having had an experience which is in +many ways unique, and by hearing the very remarkable narrative of +the Red-headed League." + + +"You see, Watson," he explained in the early hours of the morning +as we sat over a glass of whisky and soda in Baker Street, "it +was perfectly obvious from the first that the only possible +object of this rather fantastic business of the advertisement of +the League, and the copying of the 'Encyclopaedia,' must be to get +this not over-bright pawnbroker out of the way for a number of +hours every day. It was a curious way of managing it, but, +really, it would be difficult to suggest a better. The method was +no doubt suggested to Clay's ingenious mind by the colour of his +accomplice's hair. The 4 pounds a week was a lure which must draw +him, and what was it to them, who were playing for thousands? +They put in the advertisement, one rogue has the temporary +office, the other rogue incites the man to apply for it, and +together they manage to secure his absence every morning in the +week. From the time that I heard of the assistant having come for +half wages, it was obvious to me that he had some strong motive +for securing the situation." + +"But how could you guess what the motive was?" + +"Had there been women in the house, I should have suspected a +mere vulgar intrigue. That, however, was out of the question. The +man's business was a small one, and there was nothing in his +house which could account for such elaborate preparations, and +such an expenditure as they were at. It must, then, be something +out of the house. What could it be? I thought of the assistant's +fondness for photography, and his trick of vanishing into the +cellar. The cellar! There was the end of this tangled clue. Then +I made inquiries as to this mysterious assistant and found that I +had to deal with one of the coolest and most daring criminals in +London. He was doing something in the cellar--something which +took many hours a day for months on end. What could it be, once +more? I could think of nothing save that he was running a tunnel +to some other building. + +"So far I had got when we went to visit the scene of action. I +surprised you by beating upon the pavement with my stick. I was +ascertaining whether the cellar stretched out in front or behind. +It was not in front. Then I rang the bell, and, as I hoped, the +assistant answered it. We have had some skirmishes, but we had +never set eyes upon each other before. I hardly looked at his +face. His knees were what I wished to see. You must yourself have +remarked how worn, wrinkled, and stained they were. They spoke of +those hours of burrowing. The only remaining point was what they +were burrowing for. I walked round the corner, saw the City and +Suburban Bank abutted on our friend's premises, and felt that I +had solved my problem. When you drove home after the concert I +called upon Scotland Yard and upon the chairman of the bank +directors, with the result that you have seen." + +"And how could you tell that they would make their attempt +to-night?" I asked. + +"Well, when they closed their League offices that was a sign that +they cared no longer about Mr. Jabez Wilson's presence--in other +words, that they had completed their tunnel. But it was essential +that they should use it soon, as it might be discovered, or the +bullion might be removed. Saturday would suit them better than +any other day, as it would give them two days for their escape. +For all these reasons I expected them to come to-night." + +"You reasoned it out beautifully," I exclaimed in unfeigned +admiration. "It is so long a chain, and yet every link rings +true." + +"It saved me from ennui," he answered, yawning. "Alas! I already +feel it closing in upon me. My life is spent in one long effort +to escape from the commonplaces of existence. These little +problems help me to do so." + +"And you are a benefactor of the race," said I. + +He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, perhaps, after all, it is of +some little use," he remarked. "'L'homme c'est rien--l'oeuvre +c'est tout,' as Gustave Flaubert wrote to George Sand." + + + +ADVENTURE III. A CASE OF IDENTITY + +"My dear fellow," said Sherlock Holmes as we sat on either side +of the fire in his lodgings at Baker Street, "life is infinitely +stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent. We +would not dare to conceive the things which are really mere +commonplaces of existence. If we could fly out of that window +hand in hand, hover over this great city, gently remove the +roofs, and peep in at the queer things which are going on, the +strange coincidences, the plannings, the cross-purposes, the +wonderful chains of events, working through generations, and +leading to the most outre results, it would make all fiction with +its conventionalities and foreseen conclusions most stale and +unprofitable." + +"And yet I am not convinced of it," I answered. "The cases which +come to light in the papers are, as a rule, bald enough, and +vulgar enough. We have in our police reports realism pushed to +its extreme limits, and yet the result is, it must be confessed, +neither fascinating nor artistic." + +"A certain selection and discretion must be used in producing a +realistic effect," remarked Holmes. "This is wanting in the +police report, where more stress is laid, perhaps, upon the +platitudes of the magistrate than upon the details, which to an +observer contain the vital essence of the whole matter. Depend +upon it, there is nothing so unnatural as the commonplace." + +I smiled and shook my head. "I can quite understand your thinking +so," I said. "Of course, in your position of unofficial adviser +and helper to everybody who is absolutely puzzled, throughout +three continents, you are brought in contact with all that is +strange and bizarre. But here"--I picked up the morning paper +from the ground--"let us put it to a practical test. Here is the +first heading upon which I come. 'A husband's cruelty to his +wife.' There is half a column of print, but I know without +reading it that it is all perfectly familiar to me. There is, of +course, the other woman, the drink, the push, the blow, the +bruise, the sympathetic sister or landlady. The crudest of +writers could invent nothing more crude." + +"Indeed, your example is an unfortunate one for your argument," +said Holmes, taking the paper and glancing his eye down it. "This +is the Dundas separation case, and, as it happens, I was engaged +in clearing up some small points in connection with it. The +husband was a teetotaler, there was no other woman, and the +conduct complained of was that he had drifted into the habit of +winding up every meal by taking out his false teeth and hurling +them at his wife, which, you will allow, is not an action likely +to occur to the imagination of the average story-teller. Take a +pinch of snuff, Doctor, and acknowledge that I have scored over +you in your example." + +He held out his snuffbox of old gold, with a great amethyst in +the centre of the lid. Its splendour was in such contrast to his +homely ways and simple life that I could not help commenting upon +it. + +"Ah," said he, "I forgot that I had not seen you for some weeks. +It is a little souvenir from the King of Bohemia in return for my +assistance in the case of the Irene Adler papers." + +"And the ring?" I asked, glancing at a remarkable brilliant which +sparkled upon his finger. + +"It was from the reigning family of Holland, though the matter in +which I served them was of such delicacy that I cannot confide it +even to you, who have been good enough to chronicle one or two of +my little problems." + +"And have you any on hand just now?" I asked with interest. + +"Some ten or twelve, but none which present any feature of +interest. They are important, you understand, without being +interesting. Indeed, I have found that it is usually in +unimportant matters that there is a field for the observation, +and for the quick analysis of cause and effect which gives the +charm to an investigation. The larger crimes are apt to be the +simpler, for the bigger the crime the more obvious, as a rule, is +the motive. In these cases, save for one rather intricate matter +which has been referred to me from Marseilles, there is nothing +which presents any features of interest. It is possible, however, +that I may have something better before very many minutes are +over, for this is one of my clients, or I am much mistaken." + +He had risen from his chair and was standing between the parted +blinds gazing down into the dull neutral-tinted London street. +Looking over his shoulder, I saw that on the pavement opposite +there stood a large woman with a heavy fur boa round her neck, +and a large curling red feather in a broad-brimmed hat which was +tilted in a coquettish Duchess of Devonshire fashion over her +ear. From under this great panoply she peeped up in a nervous, +hesitating fashion at our windows, while her body oscillated +backward and forward, and her fingers fidgeted with her glove +buttons. Suddenly, with a plunge, as of the swimmer who leaves +the bank, she hurried across the road, and we heard the sharp +clang of the bell. + +"I have seen those symptoms before," said Holmes, throwing his +cigarette into the fire. "Oscillation upon the pavement always +means an affaire de coeur. She would like advice, but is not sure +that the matter is not too delicate for communication. And yet +even here we may discriminate. When a woman has been seriously +wronged by a man she no longer oscillates, and the usual symptom +is a broken bell wire. Here we may take it that there is a love +matter, but that the maiden is not so much angry as perplexed, or +grieved. But here she comes in person to resolve our doubts." + +As he spoke there was a tap at the door, and the boy in buttons +entered to announce Miss Mary Sutherland, while the lady herself +loomed behind his small black figure like a full-sailed +merchant-man behind a tiny pilot boat. Sherlock Holmes welcomed +her with the easy courtesy for which he was remarkable, and, +having closed the door and bowed her into an armchair, he looked +her over in the minute and yet abstracted fashion which was +peculiar to him. + +"Do you not find," he said, "that with your short sight it is a +little trying to do so much typewriting?" + +"I did at first," she answered, "but now I know where the letters +are without looking." Then, suddenly realising the full purport +of his words, she gave a violent start and looked up, with fear +and astonishment upon her broad, good-humoured face. "You've +heard about me, Mr. Holmes," she cried, "else how could you know +all that?" + +"Never mind," said Holmes, laughing; "it is my business to know +things. Perhaps I have trained myself to see what others +overlook. If not, why should you come to consult me?" + +"I came to you, sir, because I heard of you from Mrs. Etherege, +whose husband you found so easy when the police and everyone had +given him up for dead. Oh, Mr. Holmes, I wish you would do as +much for me. I'm not rich, but still I have a hundred a year in +my own right, besides the little that I make by the machine, and +I would give it all to know what has become of Mr. Hosmer Angel." + +"Why did you come away to consult me in such a hurry?" asked +Sherlock Holmes, with his finger-tips together and his eyes to +the ceiling. + +Again a startled look came over the somewhat vacuous face of Miss +Mary Sutherland. "Yes, I did bang out of the house," she said, +"for it made me angry to see the easy way in which Mr. +Windibank--that is, my father--took it all. He would not go to +the police, and he would not go to you, and so at last, as he +would do nothing and kept on saying that there was no harm done, +it made me mad, and I just on with my things and came right away +to you." + +"Your father," said Holmes, "your stepfather, surely, since the +name is different." + +"Yes, my stepfather. I call him father, though it sounds funny, +too, for he is only five years and two months older than myself." + +"And your mother is alive?" + +"Oh, yes, mother is alive and well. I wasn't best pleased, Mr. +Holmes, when she married again so soon after father's death, and +a man who was nearly fifteen years younger than herself. Father +was a plumber in the Tottenham Court Road, and he left a tidy +business behind him, which mother carried on with Mr. Hardy, the +foreman; but when Mr. Windibank came he made her sell the +business, for he was very superior, being a traveller in wines. +They got 4700 pounds for the goodwill and interest, which wasn't +near as much as father could have got if he had been alive." + +I had expected to see Sherlock Holmes impatient under this +rambling and inconsequential narrative, but, on the contrary, he +had listened with the greatest concentration of attention. + +"Your own little income," he asked, "does it come out of the +business?" + +"Oh, no, sir. It is quite separate and was left me by my uncle +Ned in Auckland. It is in New Zealand stock, paying 4 1/2 per +cent. Two thousand five hundred pounds was the amount, but I can +only touch the interest." + +"You interest me extremely," said Holmes. "And since you draw so +large a sum as a hundred a year, with what you earn into the +bargain, you no doubt travel a little and indulge yourself in +every way. I believe that a single lady can get on very nicely +upon an income of about 60 pounds." + +"I could do with much less than that, Mr. Holmes, but you +understand that as long as I live at home I don't wish to be a +burden to them, and so they have the use of the money just while +I am staying with them. Of course, that is only just for the +time. Mr. Windibank draws my interest every quarter and pays it +over to mother, and I find that I can do pretty well with what I +earn at typewriting. It brings me twopence a sheet, and I can +often do from fifteen to twenty sheets in a day." + +"You have made your position very clear to me," said Holmes. +"This is my friend, Dr. Watson, before whom you can speak as +freely as before myself. Kindly tell us now all about your +connection with Mr. Hosmer Angel." + +A flush stole over Miss Sutherland's face, and she picked +nervously at the fringe of her jacket. "I met him first at the +gasfitters' ball," she said. "They used to send father tickets +when he was alive, and then afterwards they remembered us, and +sent them to mother. Mr. Windibank did not wish us to go. He +never did wish us to go anywhere. He would get quite mad if I +wanted so much as to join a Sunday-school treat. But this time I +was set on going, and I would go; for what right had he to +prevent? He said the folk were not fit for us to know, when all +father's friends were to be there. And he said that I had nothing +fit to wear, when I had my purple plush that I had never so much +as taken out of the drawer. At last, when nothing else would do, +he went off to France upon the business of the firm, but we went, +mother and I, with Mr. Hardy, who used to be our foreman, and it +was there I met Mr. Hosmer Angel." + +"I suppose," said Holmes, "that when Mr. Windibank came back from +France he was very annoyed at your having gone to the ball." + +"Oh, well, he was very good about it. He laughed, I remember, and +shrugged his shoulders, and said there was no use denying +anything to a woman, for she would have her way." + +"I see. Then at the gasfitters' ball you met, as I understand, a +gentleman called Mr. Hosmer Angel." + +"Yes, sir. I met him that night, and he called next day to ask if +we had got home all safe, and after that we met him--that is to +say, Mr. Holmes, I met him twice for walks, but after that father +came back again, and Mr. Hosmer Angel could not come to the house +any more." + +"No?" + +"Well, you know father didn't like anything of the sort. He +wouldn't have any visitors if he could help it, and he used to +say that a woman should be happy in her own family circle. But +then, as I used to say to mother, a woman wants her own circle to +begin with, and I had not got mine yet." + +"But how about Mr. Hosmer Angel? Did he make no attempt to see +you?" + +"Well, father was going off to France again in a week, and Hosmer +wrote and said that it would be safer and better not to see each +other until he had gone. We could write in the meantime, and he +used to write every day. I took the letters in in the morning, so +there was no need for father to know." + +"Were you engaged to the gentleman at this time?" + +"Oh, yes, Mr. Holmes. We were engaged after the first walk that +we took. Hosmer--Mr. Angel--was a cashier in an office in +Leadenhall Street--and--" + +"What office?" + +"That's the worst of it, Mr. Holmes, I don't know." + +"Where did he live, then?" + +"He slept on the premises." + +"And you don't know his address?" + +"No--except that it was Leadenhall Street." + +"Where did you address your letters, then?" + +"To the Leadenhall Street Post Office, to be left till called +for. He said that if they were sent to the office he would be +chaffed by all the other clerks about having letters from a lady, +so I offered to typewrite them, like he did his, but he wouldn't +have that, for he said that when I wrote them they seemed to come +from me, but when they were typewritten he always felt that the +machine had come between us. That will just show you how fond he +was of me, Mr. Holmes, and the little things that he would think +of." + +"It was most suggestive," said Holmes. "It has long been an axiom +of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important. +Can you remember any other little things about Mr. Hosmer Angel?" + +"He was a very shy man, Mr. Holmes. He would rather walk with me +in the evening than in the daylight, for he said that he hated to +be conspicuous. Very retiring and gentlemanly he was. Even his +voice was gentle. He'd had the quinsy and swollen glands when he +was young, he told me, and it had left him with a weak throat, +and a hesitating, whispering fashion of speech. He was always +well dressed, very neat and plain, but his eyes were weak, just +as mine are, and he wore tinted glasses against the glare." + +"Well, and what happened when Mr. Windibank, your stepfather, +returned to France?" + +"Mr. Hosmer Angel came to the house again and proposed that we +should marry before father came back. He was in dreadful earnest +and made me swear, with my hands on the Testament, that whatever +happened I would always be true to him. Mother said he was quite +right to make me swear, and that it was a sign of his passion. +Mother was all in his favour from the first and was even fonder +of him than I was. Then, when they talked of marrying within the +week, I began to ask about father; but they both said never to +mind about father, but just to tell him afterwards, and mother +said she would make it all right with him. I didn't quite like +that, Mr. Holmes. It seemed funny that I should ask his leave, as +he was only a few years older than me; but I didn't want to do +anything on the sly, so I wrote to father at Bordeaux, where the +company has its French offices, but the letter came back to me on +the very morning of the wedding." + +"It missed him, then?" + +"Yes, sir; for he had started to England just before it arrived." + +"Ha! that was unfortunate. Your wedding was arranged, then, for +the Friday. Was it to be in church?" + +"Yes, sir, but very quietly. It was to be at St. Saviour's, near +King's Cross, and we were to have breakfast afterwards at the St. +Pancras Hotel. Hosmer came for us in a hansom, but as there were +two of us he put us both into it and stepped himself into a +four-wheeler, which happened to be the only other cab in the +street. We got to the church first, and when the four-wheeler +drove up we waited for him to step out, but he never did, and +when the cabman got down from the box and looked there was no one +there! The cabman said that he could not imagine what had become +of him, for he had seen him get in with his own eyes. That was +last Friday, Mr. Holmes, and I have never seen or heard anything +since then to throw any light upon what became of him." + +"It seems to me that you have been very shamefully treated," said +Holmes. + +"Oh, no, sir! He was too good and kind to leave me so. Why, all +the morning he was saying to me that, whatever happened, I was to +be true; and that even if something quite unforeseen occurred to +separate us, I was always to remember that I was pledged to him, +and that he would claim his pledge sooner or later. It seemed +strange talk for a wedding-morning, but what has happened since +gives a meaning to it." + +"Most certainly it does. Your own opinion is, then, that some +unforeseen catastrophe has occurred to him?" + +"Yes, sir. I believe that he foresaw some danger, or else he +would not have talked so. And then I think that what he foresaw +happened." + +"But you have no notion as to what it could have been?" + +"None." + +"One more question. How did your mother take the matter?" + +"She was angry, and said that I was never to speak of the matter +again." + +"And your father? Did you tell him?" + +"Yes; and he seemed to think, with me, that something had +happened, and that I should hear of Hosmer again. As he said, +what interest could anyone have in bringing me to the doors of +the church, and then leaving me? Now, if he had borrowed my +money, or if he had married me and got my money settled on him, +there might be some reason, but Hosmer was very independent about +money and never would look at a shilling of mine. And yet, what +could have happened? And why could he not write? Oh, it drives me +half-mad to think of it, and I can't sleep a wink at night." She +pulled a little handkerchief out of her muff and began to sob +heavily into it. + +"I shall glance into the case for you," said Holmes, rising, "and +I have no doubt that we shall reach some definite result. Let the +weight of the matter rest upon me now, and do not let your mind +dwell upon it further. Above all, try to let Mr. Hosmer Angel +vanish from your memory, as he has done from your life." + +"Then you don't think I'll see him again?" + +"I fear not." + +"Then what has happened to him?" + +"You will leave that question in my hands. I should like an +accurate description of him and any letters of his which you can +spare." + +"I advertised for him in last Saturday's Chronicle," said she. +"Here is the slip and here are four letters from him." + +"Thank you. And your address?" + +"No. 31 Lyon Place, Camberwell." + +"Mr. Angel's address you never had, I understand. Where is your +father's place of business?" + +"He travels for Westhouse & Marbank, the great claret importers +of Fenchurch Street." + +"Thank you. You have made your statement very clearly. You will +leave the papers here, and remember the advice which I have given +you. Let the whole incident be a sealed book, and do not allow it +to affect your life." + +"You are very kind, Mr. Holmes, but I cannot do that. I shall be +true to Hosmer. He shall find me ready when he comes back." + +For all the preposterous hat and the vacuous face, there was +something noble in the simple faith of our visitor which +compelled our respect. She laid her little bundle of papers upon +the table and went her way, with a promise to come again whenever +she might be summoned. + +Sherlock Holmes sat silent for a few minutes with his fingertips +still pressed together, his legs stretched out in front of him, +and his gaze directed upward to the ceiling. Then he took down +from the rack the old and oily clay pipe, which was to him as a +counsellor, and, having lit it, he leaned back in his chair, with +the thick blue cloud-wreaths spinning up from him, and a look of +infinite languor in his face. + +"Quite an interesting study, that maiden," he observed. "I found +her more interesting than her little problem, which, by the way, +is rather a trite one. You will find parallel cases, if you +consult my index, in Andover in '77, and there was something of +the sort at The Hague last year. Old as is the idea, however, +there were one or two details which were new to me. But the +maiden herself was most instructive." + +"You appeared to read a good deal upon her which was quite +invisible to me," I remarked. + +"Not invisible but unnoticed, Watson. You did not know where to +look, and so you missed all that was important. I can never bring +you to realise the importance of sleeves, the suggestiveness of +thumb-nails, or the great issues that may hang from a boot-lace. +Now, what did you gather from that woman's appearance? Describe +it." + +"Well, she had a slate-coloured, broad-brimmed straw hat, with a +feather of a brickish red. Her jacket was black, with black beads +sewn upon it, and a fringe of little black jet ornaments. Her +dress was brown, rather darker than coffee colour, with a little +purple plush at the neck and sleeves. Her gloves were greyish and +were worn through at the right forefinger. Her boots I didn't +observe. She had small round, hanging gold earrings, and a +general air of being fairly well-to-do in a vulgar, comfortable, +easy-going way." + +Sherlock Holmes clapped his hands softly together and chuckled. + +"'Pon my word, Watson, you are coming along wonderfully. You have +really done very well indeed. It is true that you have missed +everything of importance, but you have hit upon the method, and +you have a quick eye for colour. Never trust to general +impressions, my boy, but concentrate yourself upon details. My +first glance is always at a woman's sleeve. In a man it is +perhaps better first to take the knee of the trouser. As you +observe, this woman had plush upon her sleeves, which is a most +useful material for showing traces. The double line a little +above the wrist, where the typewritist presses against the table, +was beautifully defined. The sewing-machine, of the hand type, +leaves a similar mark, but only on the left arm, and on the side +of it farthest from the thumb, instead of being right across the +broadest part, as this was. I then glanced at her face, and, +observing the dint of a pince-nez at either side of her nose, I +ventured a remark upon short sight and typewriting, which seemed +to surprise her." + +"It surprised me." + +"But, surely, it was obvious. I was then much surprised and +interested on glancing down to observe that, though the boots +which she was wearing were not unlike each other, they were +really odd ones; the one having a slightly decorated toe-cap, and +the other a plain one. One was buttoned only in the two lower +buttons out of five, and the other at the first, third, and +fifth. Now, when you see that a young lady, otherwise neatly +dressed, has come away from home with odd boots, half-buttoned, +it is no great deduction to say that she came away in a hurry." + +"And what else?" I asked, keenly interested, as I always was, by +my friend's incisive reasoning. + +"I noted, in passing, that she had written a note before leaving +home but after being fully dressed. You observed that her right +glove was torn at the forefinger, but you did not apparently see +that both glove and finger were stained with violet ink. She had +written in a hurry and dipped her pen too deep. It must have been +this morning, or the mark would not remain clear upon the finger. +All this is amusing, though rather elementary, but I must go back +to business, Watson. Would you mind reading me the advertised +description of Mr. Hosmer Angel?" + +I held the little printed slip to the light. + +"Missing," it said, "on the morning of the fourteenth, a gentleman +named Hosmer Angel. About five ft. seven in. in height; +strongly built, sallow complexion, black hair, a little bald in +the centre, bushy, black side-whiskers and moustache; tinted +glasses, slight infirmity of speech. Was dressed, when last seen, +in black frock-coat faced with silk, black waistcoat, gold Albert +chain, and grey Harris tweed trousers, with brown gaiters over +elastic-sided boots. Known to have been employed in an office in +Leadenhall Street. Anybody bringing--" + +"That will do," said Holmes. "As to the letters," he continued, +glancing over them, "they are very commonplace. Absolutely no +clue in them to Mr. Angel, save that he quotes Balzac once. There +is one remarkable point, however, which will no doubt strike +you." + +"They are typewritten," I remarked. + +"Not only that, but the signature is typewritten. Look at the +neat little 'Hosmer Angel' at the bottom. There is a date, you +see, but no superscription except Leadenhall Street, which is +rather vague. The point about the signature is very suggestive--in +fact, we may call it conclusive." + +"Of what?" + +"My dear fellow, is it possible you do not see how strongly it +bears upon the case?" + +"I cannot say that I do unless it were that he wished to be able +to deny his signature if an action for breach of promise were +instituted." + +"No, that was not the point. However, I shall write two letters, +which should settle the matter. One is to a firm in the City, the +other is to the young lady's stepfather, Mr. Windibank, asking +him whether he could meet us here at six o'clock tomorrow +evening. It is just as well that we should do business with the +male relatives. And now, Doctor, we can do nothing until the +answers to those letters come, so we may put our little problem +upon the shelf for the interim." + +I had had so many reasons to believe in my friend's subtle powers +of reasoning and extraordinary energy in action that I felt that +he must have some solid grounds for the assured and easy +demeanour with which he treated the singular mystery which he had +been called upon to fathom. Once only had I known him to fail, in +the case of the King of Bohemia and of the Irene Adler +photograph; but when I looked back to the weird business of the +Sign of Four, and the extraordinary circumstances connected with +the Study in Scarlet, I felt that it would be a strange tangle +indeed which he could not unravel. + +I left him then, still puffing at his black clay pipe, with the +conviction that when I came again on the next evening I would +find that he held in his hands all the clues which would lead up +to the identity of the disappearing bridegroom of Miss Mary +Sutherland. + +A professional case of great gravity was engaging my own +attention at the time, and the whole of next day I was busy at +the bedside of the sufferer. It was not until close upon six +o'clock that I found myself free and was able to spring into a +hansom and drive to Baker Street, half afraid that I might be too +late to assist at the denouement of the little mystery. I found +Sherlock Holmes alone, however, half asleep, with his long, thin +form curled up in the recesses of his armchair. A formidable +array of bottles and test-tubes, with the pungent cleanly smell +of hydrochloric acid, told me that he had spent his day in the +chemical work which was so dear to him. + +"Well, have you solved it?" I asked as I entered. + +"Yes. It was the bisulphate of baryta." + +"No, no, the mystery!" I cried. + +"Oh, that! I thought of the salt that I have been working upon. +There was never any mystery in the matter, though, as I said +yesterday, some of the details are of interest. The only drawback +is that there is no law, I fear, that can touch the scoundrel." + +"Who was he, then, and what was his object in deserting Miss +Sutherland?" + +The question was hardly out of my mouth, and Holmes had not yet +opened his lips to reply, when we heard a heavy footfall in the +passage and a tap at the door. + +"This is the girl's stepfather, Mr. James Windibank," said +Holmes. "He has written to me to say that he would be here at +six. Come in!" + +The man who entered was a sturdy, middle-sized fellow, some +thirty years of age, clean-shaven, and sallow-skinned, with a +bland, insinuating manner, and a pair of wonderfully sharp and +penetrating grey eyes. He shot a questioning glance at each of +us, placed his shiny top-hat upon the sideboard, and with a +slight bow sidled down into the nearest chair. + +"Good-evening, Mr. James Windibank," said Holmes. "I think that +this typewritten letter is from you, in which you made an +appointment with me for six o'clock?" + +"Yes, sir. I am afraid that I am a little late, but I am not +quite my own master, you know. I am sorry that Miss Sutherland +has troubled you about this little matter, for I think it is far +better not to wash linen of the sort in public. It was quite +against my wishes that she came, but she is a very excitable, +impulsive girl, as you may have noticed, and she is not easily +controlled when she has made up her mind on a point. Of course, I +did not mind you so much, as you are not connected with the +official police, but it is not pleasant to have a family +misfortune like this noised abroad. Besides, it is a useless +expense, for how could you possibly find this Hosmer Angel?" + +"On the contrary," said Holmes quietly; "I have every reason to +believe that I will succeed in discovering Mr. Hosmer Angel." + +Mr. Windibank gave a violent start and dropped his gloves. "I am +delighted to hear it," he said. + +"It is a curious thing," remarked Holmes, "that a typewriter has +really quite as much individuality as a man's handwriting. Unless +they are quite new, no two of them write exactly alike. Some +letters get more worn than others, and some wear only on one +side. Now, you remark in this note of yours, Mr. Windibank, that +in every case there is some little slurring over of the 'e,' and +a slight defect in the tail of the 'r.' There are fourteen other +characteristics, but those are the more obvious." + +"We do all our correspondence with this machine at the office, +and no doubt it is a little worn," our visitor answered, glancing +keenly at Holmes with his bright little eyes. + +"And now I will show you what is really a very interesting study, +Mr. Windibank," Holmes continued. "I think of writing another +little monograph some of these days on the typewriter and its +relation to crime. It is a subject to which I have devoted some +little attention. I have here four letters which purport to come +from the missing man. They are all typewritten. In each case, not +only are the 'e's' slurred and the 'r's' tailless, but you will +observe, if you care to use my magnifying lens, that the fourteen +other characteristics to which I have alluded are there as well." + +Mr. Windibank sprang out of his chair and picked up his hat. "I +cannot waste time over this sort of fantastic talk, Mr. Holmes," +he said. "If you can catch the man, catch him, and let me know +when you have done it." + +"Certainly," said Holmes, stepping over and turning the key in +the door. "I let you know, then, that I have caught him!" + +"What! where?" shouted Mr. Windibank, turning white to his lips +and glancing about him like a rat in a trap. + +"Oh, it won't do--really it won't," said Holmes suavely. "There +is no possible getting out of it, Mr. Windibank. It is quite too +transparent, and it was a very bad compliment when you said that +it was impossible for me to solve so simple a question. That's +right! Sit down and let us talk it over." + +Our visitor collapsed into a chair, with a ghastly face and a +glitter of moisture on his brow. "It--it's not actionable," he +stammered. + +"I am very much afraid that it is not. But between ourselves, +Windibank, it was as cruel and selfish and heartless a trick in a +petty way as ever came before me. Now, let me just run over the +course of events, and you will contradict me if I go wrong." + +The man sat huddled up in his chair, with his head sunk upon his +breast, like one who is utterly crushed. Holmes stuck his feet up +on the corner of the mantelpiece and, leaning back with his hands +in his pockets, began talking, rather to himself, as it seemed, +than to us. + +"The man married a woman very much older than himself for her +money," said he, "and he enjoyed the use of the money of the +daughter as long as she lived with them. It was a considerable +sum, for people in their position, and the loss of it would have +made a serious difference. It was worth an effort to preserve it. +The daughter was of a good, amiable disposition, but affectionate +and warm-hearted in her ways, so that it was evident that with +her fair personal advantages, and her little income, she would +not be allowed to remain single long. Now her marriage would +mean, of course, the loss of a hundred a year, so what does her +stepfather do to prevent it? He takes the obvious course of +keeping her at home and forbidding her to seek the company of +people of her own age. But soon he found that that would not +answer forever. She became restive, insisted upon her rights, and +finally announced her positive intention of going to a certain +ball. What does her clever stepfather do then? He conceives an +idea more creditable to his head than to his heart. With the +connivance and assistance of his wife he disguised himself, +covered those keen eyes with tinted glasses, masked the face with +a moustache and a pair of bushy whiskers, sunk that clear voice +into an insinuating whisper, and doubly secure on account of the +girl's short sight, he appears as Mr. Hosmer Angel, and keeps off +other lovers by making love himself." + +"It was only a joke at first," groaned our visitor. "We never +thought that she would have been so carried away." + +"Very likely not. However that may be, the young lady was very +decidedly carried away, and, having quite made up her mind that +her stepfather was in France, the suspicion of treachery never +for an instant entered her mind. She was flattered by the +gentleman's attentions, and the effect was increased by the +loudly expressed admiration of her mother. Then Mr. Angel began +to call, for it was obvious that the matter should be pushed as +far as it would go if a real effect were to be produced. There +were meetings, and an engagement, which would finally secure the +girl's affections from turning towards anyone else. But the +deception could not be kept up forever. These pretended journeys +to France were rather cumbrous. The thing to do was clearly to +bring the business to an end in such a dramatic manner that it +would leave a permanent impression upon the young lady's mind and +prevent her from looking upon any other suitor for some time to +come. Hence those vows of fidelity exacted upon a Testament, and +hence also the allusions to a possibility of something happening +on the very morning of the wedding. James Windibank wished Miss +Sutherland to be so bound to Hosmer Angel, and so uncertain as to +his fate, that for ten years to come, at any rate, she would not +listen to another man. As far as the church door he brought her, +and then, as he could go no farther, he conveniently vanished +away by the old trick of stepping in at one door of a +four-wheeler and out at the other. I think that was the chain of +events, Mr. Windibank!" + +Our visitor had recovered something of his assurance while Holmes +had been talking, and he rose from his chair now with a cold +sneer upon his pale face. + +"It may be so, or it may not, Mr. Holmes," said he, "but if you +are so very sharp you ought to be sharp enough to know that it is +you who are breaking the law now, and not me. I have done nothing +actionable from the first, but as long as you keep that door +locked you lay yourself open to an action for assault and illegal +constraint." + +"The law cannot, as you say, touch you," said Holmes, unlocking +and throwing open the door, "yet there never was a man who +deserved punishment more. If the young lady has a brother or a +friend, he ought to lay a whip across your shoulders. By Jove!" +he continued, flushing up at the sight of the bitter sneer upon +the man's face, "it is not part of my duties to my client, but +here's a hunting crop handy, and I think I shall just treat +myself to--" He took two swift steps to the whip, but before he +could grasp it there was a wild clatter of steps upon the stairs, +the heavy hall door banged, and from the window we could see Mr. +James Windibank running at the top of his speed down the road. + +"There's a cold-blooded scoundrel!" said Holmes, laughing, as he +threw himself down into his chair once more. "That fellow will +rise from crime to crime until he does something very bad, and +ends on a gallows. The case has, in some respects, been not +entirely devoid of interest." + +"I cannot now entirely see all the steps of your reasoning," I +remarked. + +"Well, of course it was obvious from the first that this Mr. +Hosmer Angel must have some strong object for his curious +conduct, and it was equally clear that the only man who really +profited by the incident, as far as we could see, was the +stepfather. Then the fact that the two men were never together, +but that the one always appeared when the other was away, was +suggestive. So were the tinted spectacles and the curious voice, +which both hinted at a disguise, as did the bushy whiskers. My +suspicions were all confirmed by his peculiar action in +typewriting his signature, which, of course, inferred that his +handwriting was so familiar to her that she would recognise even +the smallest sample of it. You see all these isolated facts, +together with many minor ones, all pointed in the same +direction." + +"And how did you verify them?" + +"Having once spotted my man, it was easy to get corroboration. I +knew the firm for which this man worked. Having taken the printed +description. I eliminated everything from it which could be the +result of a disguise--the whiskers, the glasses, the voice, and I +sent it to the firm, with a request that they would inform me +whether it answered to the description of any of their +travellers. I had already noticed the peculiarities of the +typewriter, and I wrote to the man himself at his business +address asking him if he would come here. As I expected, his +reply was typewritten and revealed the same trivial but +characteristic defects. The same post brought me a letter from +Westhouse & Marbank, of Fenchurch Street, to say that the +description tallied in every respect with that of their employe, +James Windibank. Voila tout!" + +"And Miss Sutherland?" + +"If I tell her she will not believe me. You may remember the old +Persian saying, 'There is danger for him who taketh the tiger +cub, and danger also for whoso snatches a delusion from a woman.' +There is as much sense in Hafiz as in Horace, and as much +knowledge of the world." + + + +ADVENTURE IV. THE BOSCOMBE VALLEY MYSTERY + +We were seated at breakfast one morning, my wife and I, when the +maid brought in a telegram. It was from Sherlock Holmes and ran +in this way: + +"Have you a couple of days to spare? Have just been wired for from +the west of England in connection with Boscombe Valley tragedy. +Shall be glad if you will come with me. Air and scenery perfect. +Leave Paddington by the 11:15." + +"What do you say, dear?" said my wife, looking across at me. +"Will you go?" + +"I really don't know what to say. I have a fairly long list at +present." + +"Oh, Anstruther would do your work for you. You have been looking +a little pale lately. I think that the change would do you good, +and you are always so interested in Mr. Sherlock Holmes' cases." + +"I should be ungrateful if I were not, seeing what I gained +through one of them," I answered. "But if I am to go, I must pack +at once, for I have only half an hour." + +My experience of camp life in Afghanistan had at least had the +effect of making me a prompt and ready traveller. My wants were +few and simple, so that in less than the time stated I was in a +cab with my valise, rattling away to Paddington Station. Sherlock +Holmes was pacing up and down the platform, his tall, gaunt +figure made even gaunter and taller by his long grey +travelling-cloak and close-fitting cloth cap. + +"It is really very good of you to come, Watson," said he. "It +makes a considerable difference to me, having someone with me on +whom I can thoroughly rely. Local aid is always either worthless +or else biassed. If you will keep the two corner seats I shall +get the tickets." + +We had the carriage to ourselves save for an immense litter of +papers which Holmes had brought with him. Among these he rummaged +and read, with intervals of note-taking and of meditation, until +we were past Reading. Then he suddenly rolled them all into a +gigantic ball and tossed them up onto the rack. + +"Have you heard anything of the case?" he asked. + +"Not a word. I have not seen a paper for some days." + +"The London press has not had very full accounts. I have just +been looking through all the recent papers in order to master the +particulars. It seems, from what I gather, to be one of those +simple cases which are so extremely difficult." + +"That sounds a little paradoxical." + +"But it is profoundly true. Singularity is almost invariably a +clue. The more featureless and commonplace a crime is, the more +difficult it is to bring it home. In this case, however, they +have established a very serious case against the son of the +murdered man." + +"It is a murder, then?" + +"Well, it is conjectured to be so. I shall take nothing for +granted until I have the opportunity of looking personally into +it. I will explain the state of things to you, as far as I have +been able to understand it, in a very few words. + +"Boscombe Valley is a country district not very far from Ross, in +Herefordshire. The largest landed proprietor in that part is a +Mr. John Turner, who made his money in Australia and returned +some years ago to the old country. One of the farms which he +held, that of Hatherley, was let to Mr. Charles McCarthy, who was +also an ex-Australian. The men had known each other in the +colonies, so that it was not unnatural that when they came to +settle down they should do so as near each other as possible. +Turner was apparently the richer man, so McCarthy became his +tenant but still remained, it seems, upon terms of perfect +equality, as they were frequently together. McCarthy had one son, +a lad of eighteen, and Turner had an only daughter of the same +age, but neither of them had wives living. They appear to have +avoided the society of the neighbouring English families and to +have led retired lives, though both the McCarthys were fond of +sport and were frequently seen at the race-meetings of the +neighbourhood. McCarthy kept two servants--a man and a girl. +Turner had a considerable household, some half-dozen at the +least. That is as much as I have been able to gather about the +families. Now for the facts. + +"On June 3rd, that is, on Monday last, McCarthy left his house at +Hatherley about three in the afternoon and walked down to the +Boscombe Pool, which is a small lake formed by the spreading out +of the stream which runs down the Boscombe Valley. He had been +out with his serving-man in the morning at Ross, and he had told +the man that he must hurry, as he had an appointment of +importance to keep at three. From that appointment he never came +back alive. + +"From Hatherley Farm-house to the Boscombe Pool is a quarter of a +mile, and two people saw him as he passed over this ground. One +was an old woman, whose name is not mentioned, and the other was +William Crowder, a game-keeper in the employ of Mr. Turner. Both +these witnesses depose that Mr. McCarthy was walking alone. The +game-keeper adds that within a few minutes of his seeing Mr. +McCarthy pass he had seen his son, Mr. James McCarthy, going the +same way with a gun under his arm. To the best of his belief, the +father was actually in sight at the time, and the son was +following him. He thought no more of the matter until he heard in +the evening of the tragedy that had occurred. + +"The two McCarthys were seen after the time when William Crowder, +the game-keeper, lost sight of them. The Boscombe Pool is thickly +wooded round, with just a fringe of grass and of reeds round the +edge. A girl of fourteen, Patience Moran, who is the daughter of +the lodge-keeper of the Boscombe Valley estate, was in one of the +woods picking flowers. She states that while she was there she +saw, at the border of the wood and close by the lake, Mr. +McCarthy and his son, and that they appeared to be having a +violent quarrel. She heard Mr. McCarthy the elder using very +strong language to his son, and she saw the latter raise up his +hand as if to strike his father. She was so frightened by their +violence that she ran away and told her mother when she reached +home that she had left the two McCarthys quarrelling near +Boscombe Pool, and that she was afraid that they were going to +fight. She had hardly said the words when young Mr. McCarthy came +running up to the lodge to say that he had found his father dead +in the wood, and to ask for the help of the lodge-keeper. He was +much excited, without either his gun or his hat, and his right +hand and sleeve were observed to be stained with fresh blood. On +following him they found the dead body stretched out upon the +grass beside the pool. The head had been beaten in by repeated +blows of some heavy and blunt weapon. The injuries were such as +might very well have been inflicted by the butt-end of his son's +gun, which was found lying on the grass within a few paces of the +body. Under these circumstances the young man was instantly +arrested, and a verdict of 'wilful murder' having been returned +at the inquest on Tuesday, he was on Wednesday brought before the +magistrates at Ross, who have referred the case to the next +Assizes. Those are the main facts of the case as they came out +before the coroner and the police-court." + +"I could hardly imagine a more damning case," I remarked. "If +ever circumstantial evidence pointed to a criminal it does so +here." + +"Circumstantial evidence is a very tricky thing," answered Holmes +thoughtfully. "It may seem to point very straight to one thing, +but if you shift your own point of view a little, you may find it +pointing in an equally uncompromising manner to something +entirely different. It must be confessed, however, that the case +looks exceedingly grave against the young man, and it is very +possible that he is indeed the culprit. There are several people +in the neighbourhood, however, and among them Miss Turner, the +daughter of the neighbouring landowner, who believe in his +innocence, and who have retained Lestrade, whom you may recollect +in connection with the Study in Scarlet, to work out the case in +his interest. Lestrade, being rather puzzled, has referred the +case to me, and hence it is that two middle-aged gentlemen are +flying westward at fifty miles an hour instead of quietly +digesting their breakfasts at home." + +"I am afraid," said I, "that the facts are so obvious that you +will find little credit to be gained out of this case." + +"There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact," he +answered, laughing. "Besides, we may chance to hit upon some +other obvious facts which may have been by no means obvious to +Mr. Lestrade. You know me too well to think that I am boasting +when I say that I shall either confirm or destroy his theory by +means which he is quite incapable of employing, or even of +understanding. To take the first example to hand, I very clearly +perceive that in your bedroom the window is upon the right-hand +side, and yet I question whether Mr. Lestrade would have noted +even so self-evident a thing as that." + +"How on earth--" + +"My dear fellow, I know you well. I know the military neatness +which characterises you. You shave every morning, and in this +season you shave by the sunlight; but since your shaving is less +and less complete as we get farther back on the left side, until +it becomes positively slovenly as we get round the angle of the +jaw, it is surely very clear that that side is less illuminated +than the other. I could not imagine a man of your habits looking +at himself in an equal light and being satisfied with such a +result. I only quote this as a trivial example of observation and +inference. Therein lies my metier, and it is just possible that +it may be of some service in the investigation which lies before +us. There are one or two minor points which were brought out in +the inquest, and which are worth considering." + +"What are they?" + +"It appears that his arrest did not take place at once, but after +the return to Hatherley Farm. On the inspector of constabulary +informing him that he was a prisoner, he remarked that he was not +surprised to hear it, and that it was no more than his deserts. +This observation of his had the natural effect of removing any +traces of doubt which might have remained in the minds of the +coroner's jury." + +"It was a confession," I ejaculated. + +"No, for it was followed by a protestation of innocence." + +"Coming on the top of such a damning series of events, it was at +least a most suspicious remark." + +"On the contrary," said Holmes, "it is the brightest rift which I +can at present see in the clouds. However innocent he might be, +he could not be such an absolute imbecile as not to see that the +circumstances were very black against him. Had he appeared +surprised at his own arrest, or feigned indignation at it, I +should have looked upon it as highly suspicious, because such +surprise or anger would not be natural under the circumstances, +and yet might appear to be the best policy to a scheming man. His +frank acceptance of the situation marks him as either an innocent +man, or else as a man of considerable self-restraint and +firmness. As to his remark about his deserts, it was also not +unnatural if you consider that he stood beside the dead body of +his father, and that there is no doubt that he had that very day +so far forgotten his filial duty as to bandy words with him, and +even, according to the little girl whose evidence is so +important, to raise his hand as if to strike him. The +self-reproach and contrition which are displayed in his remark +appear to me to be the signs of a healthy mind rather than of a +guilty one." + +I shook my head. "Many men have been hanged on far slighter +evidence," I remarked. + +"So they have. And many men have been wrongfully hanged." + +"What is the young man's own account of the matter?" + +"It is, I am afraid, not very encouraging to his supporters, +though there are one or two points in it which are suggestive. +You will find it here, and may read it for yourself." + +He picked out from his bundle a copy of the local Herefordshire +paper, and having turned down the sheet he pointed out the +paragraph in which the unfortunate young man had given his own +statement of what had occurred. I settled myself down in the +corner of the carriage and read it very carefully. It ran in this +way: + +"Mr. James McCarthy, the only son of the deceased, was then called +and gave evidence as follows: 'I had been away from home for +three days at Bristol, and had only just returned upon the +morning of last Monday, the 3rd. My father was absent from home at +the time of my arrival, and I was informed by the maid that he +had driven over to Ross with John Cobb, the groom. Shortly after +my return I heard the wheels of his trap in the yard, and, +looking out of my window, I saw him get out and walk rapidly out +of the yard, though I was not aware in which direction he was +going. I then took my gun and strolled out in the direction of +the Boscombe Pool, with the intention of visiting the rabbit +warren which is upon the other side. On my way I saw William +Crowder, the game-keeper, as he had stated in his evidence; but +he is mistaken in thinking that I was following my father. I had +no idea that he was in front of me. When about a hundred yards +from the pool I heard a cry of "Cooee!" which was a usual signal +between my father and myself. I then hurried forward, and found +him standing by the pool. He appeared to be much surprised at +seeing me and asked me rather roughly what I was doing there. A +conversation ensued which led to high words and almost to blows, +for my father was a man of a very violent temper. Seeing that his +passion was becoming ungovernable, I left him and returned +towards Hatherley Farm. I had not gone more than 150 yards, +however, when I heard a hideous outcry behind me, which caused me +to run back again. I found my father expiring upon the ground, +with his head terribly injured. I dropped my gun and held him in +my arms, but he almost instantly expired. I knelt beside him for +some minutes, and then made my way to Mr. Turner's lodge-keeper, +his house being the nearest, to ask for assistance. I saw no one +near my father when I returned, and I have no idea how he came by +his injuries. He was not a popular man, being somewhat cold and +forbidding in his manners, but he had, as far as I know, no +active enemies. I know nothing further of the matter.' + +"The Coroner: Did your father make any statement to you before +he died? + +"Witness: He mumbled a few words, but I could only catch some +allusion to a rat. + +"The Coroner: What did you understand by that? + +"Witness: It conveyed no meaning to me. I thought that he was +delirious. + +"The Coroner: What was the point upon which you and your father +had this final quarrel? + +"Witness: I should prefer not to answer. + +"The Coroner: I am afraid that I must press it. + +"Witness: It is really impossible for me to tell you. I can +assure you that it has nothing to do with the sad tragedy which +followed. + +"The Coroner: That is for the court to decide. I need not point +out to you that your refusal to answer will prejudice your case +considerably in any future proceedings which may arise. + +"Witness: I must still refuse. + +"The Coroner: I understand that the cry of 'Cooee' was a common +signal between you and your father? + +"Witness: It was. + +"The Coroner: How was it, then, that he uttered it before he saw +you, and before he even knew that you had returned from Bristol? + +"Witness (with considerable confusion): I do not know. + +"A Juryman: Did you see nothing which aroused your suspicions +when you returned on hearing the cry and found your father +fatally injured? + +"Witness: Nothing definite. + +"The Coroner: What do you mean? + +"Witness: I was so disturbed and excited as I rushed out into +the open, that I could think of nothing except of my father. Yet +I have a vague impression that as I ran forward something lay +upon the ground to the left of me. It seemed to me to be +something grey in colour, a coat of some sort, or a plaid perhaps. +When I rose from my father I looked round for it, but it was +gone. + +"'Do you mean that it disappeared before you went for help?' + +"'Yes, it was gone.' + +"'You cannot say what it was?' + +"'No, I had a feeling something was there.' + +"'How far from the body?' + +"'A dozen yards or so.' + +"'And how far from the edge of the wood?' + +"'About the same.' + +"'Then if it was removed it was while you were within a dozen +yards of it?' + +"'Yes, but with my back towards it.' + +"This concluded the examination of the witness." + +"I see," said I as I glanced down the column, "that the coroner +in his concluding remarks was rather severe upon young McCarthy. +He calls attention, and with reason, to the discrepancy about his +father having signalled to him before seeing him, also to his +refusal to give details of his conversation with his father, and +his singular account of his father's dying words. They are all, +as he remarks, very much against the son." + +Holmes laughed softly to himself and stretched himself out upon +the cushioned seat. "Both you and the coroner have been at some +pains," said he, "to single out the very strongest points in the +young man's favour. Don't you see that you alternately give him +credit for having too much imagination and too little? Too +little, if he could not invent a cause of quarrel which would +give him the sympathy of the jury; too much, if he evolved from +his own inner consciousness anything so outre as a dying +reference to a rat, and the incident of the vanishing cloth. No, +sir, I shall approach this case from the point of view that what +this young man says is true, and we shall see whither that +hypothesis will lead us. And now here is my pocket Petrarch, and +not another word shall I say of this case until we are on the +scene of action. We lunch at Swindon, and I see that we shall be +there in twenty minutes." + +It was nearly four o'clock when we at last, after passing through +the beautiful Stroud Valley, and over the broad gleaming Severn, +found ourselves at the pretty little country-town of Ross. A +lean, ferret-like man, furtive and sly-looking, was waiting for +us upon the platform. In spite of the light brown dustcoat and +leather-leggings which he wore in deference to his rustic +surroundings, I had no difficulty in recognising Lestrade, of +Scotland Yard. With him we drove to the Hereford Arms where a +room had already been engaged for us. + +"I have ordered a carriage," said Lestrade as we sat over a cup +of tea. "I knew your energetic nature, and that you would not be +happy until you had been on the scene of the crime." + +"It was very nice and complimentary of you," Holmes answered. "It +is entirely a question of barometric pressure." + +Lestrade looked startled. "I do not quite follow," he said. + +"How is the glass? Twenty-nine, I see. No wind, and not a cloud +in the sky. I have a caseful of cigarettes here which need +smoking, and the sofa is very much superior to the usual country +hotel abomination. I do not think that it is probable that I +shall use the carriage to-night." + +Lestrade laughed indulgently. "You have, no doubt, already formed +your conclusions from the newspapers," he said. "The case is as +plain as a pikestaff, and the more one goes into it the plainer +it becomes. Still, of course, one can't refuse a lady, and such a +very positive one, too. She has heard of you, and would have your +opinion, though I repeatedly told her that there was nothing +which you could do which I had not already done. Why, bless my +soul! here is her carriage at the door." + +He had hardly spoken before there rushed into the room one of the +most lovely young women that I have ever seen in my life. Her +violet eyes shining, her lips parted, a pink flush upon her +cheeks, all thought of her natural reserve lost in her +overpowering excitement and concern. + +"Oh, Mr. Sherlock Holmes!" she cried, glancing from one to the +other of us, and finally, with a woman's quick intuition, +fastening upon my companion, "I am so glad that you have come. I +have driven down to tell you so. I know that James didn't do it. +I know it, and I want you to start upon your work knowing it, +too. Never let yourself doubt upon that point. We have known each +other since we were little children, and I know his faults as no +one else does; but he is too tender-hearted to hurt a fly. Such a +charge is absurd to anyone who really knows him." + +"I hope we may clear him, Miss Turner," said Sherlock Holmes. +"You may rely upon my doing all that I can." + +"But you have read the evidence. You have formed some conclusion? +Do you not see some loophole, some flaw? Do you not yourself +think that he is innocent?" + +"I think that it is very probable." + +"There, now!" she cried, throwing back her head and looking +defiantly at Lestrade. "You hear! He gives me hopes." + +Lestrade shrugged his shoulders. "I am afraid that my colleague +has been a little quick in forming his conclusions," he said. + +"But he is right. Oh! I know that he is right. James never did +it. And about his quarrel with his father, I am sure that the +reason why he would not speak about it to the coroner was because +I was concerned in it." + +"In what way?" asked Holmes. + +"It is no time for me to hide anything. James and his father had +many disagreements about me. Mr. McCarthy was very anxious that +there should be a marriage between us. James and I have always +loved each other as brother and sister; but of course he is young +and has seen very little of life yet, and--and--well, he +naturally did not wish to do anything like that yet. So there +were quarrels, and this, I am sure, was one of them." + +"And your father?" asked Holmes. "Was he in favour of such a +union?" + +"No, he was averse to it also. No one but Mr. McCarthy was in +favour of it." A quick blush passed over her fresh young face as +Holmes shot one of his keen, questioning glances at her. + +"Thank you for this information," said he. "May I see your father +if I call to-morrow?" + +"I am afraid the doctor won't allow it." + +"The doctor?" + +"Yes, have you not heard? Poor father has never been strong for +years back, but this has broken him down completely. He has taken +to his bed, and Dr. Willows says that he is a wreck and that his +nervous system is shattered. Mr. McCarthy was the only man alive +who had known dad in the old days in Victoria." + +"Ha! In Victoria! That is important." + +"Yes, at the mines." + +"Quite so; at the gold-mines, where, as I understand, Mr. Turner +made his money." + +"Yes, certainly." + +"Thank you, Miss Turner. You have been of material assistance to +me." + +"You will tell me if you have any news to-morrow. No doubt you +will go to the prison to see James. Oh, if you do, Mr. Holmes, do +tell him that I know him to be innocent." + +"I will, Miss Turner." + +"I must go home now, for dad is very ill, and he misses me so if +I leave him. Good-bye, and God help you in your undertaking." She +hurried from the room as impulsively as she had entered, and we +heard the wheels of her carriage rattle off down the street. + +"I am ashamed of you, Holmes," said Lestrade with dignity after a +few minutes' silence. "Why should you raise up hopes which you +are bound to disappoint? I am not over-tender of heart, but I +call it cruel." + +"I think that I see my way to clearing James McCarthy," said +Holmes. "Have you an order to see him in prison?" + +"Yes, but only for you and me." + +"Then I shall reconsider my resolution about going out. We have +still time to take a train to Hereford and see him to-night?" + +"Ample." + +"Then let us do so. Watson, I fear that you will find it very +slow, but I shall only be away a couple of hours." + +I walked down to the station with them, and then wandered through +the streets of the little town, finally returning to the hotel, +where I lay upon the sofa and tried to interest myself in a +yellow-backed novel. The puny plot of the story was so thin, +however, when compared to the deep mystery through which we were +groping, and I found my attention wander so continually from the +action to the fact, that I at last flung it across the room and +gave myself up entirely to a consideration of the events of the +day. Supposing that this unhappy young man's story were +absolutely true, then what hellish thing, what absolutely +unforeseen and extraordinary calamity could have occurred between +the time when he parted from his father, and the moment when, +drawn back by his screams, he rushed into the glade? It was +something terrible and deadly. What could it be? Might not the +nature of the injuries reveal something to my medical instincts? +I rang the bell and called for the weekly county paper, which +contained a verbatim account of the inquest. In the surgeon's +deposition it was stated that the posterior third of the left +parietal bone and the left half of the occipital bone had been +shattered by a heavy blow from a blunt weapon. I marked the spot +upon my own head. Clearly such a blow must have been struck from +behind. That was to some extent in favour of the accused, as when +seen quarrelling he was face to face with his father. Still, it +did not go for very much, for the older man might have turned his +back before the blow fell. Still, it might be worth while to call +Holmes' attention to it. Then there was the peculiar dying +reference to a rat. What could that mean? It could not be +delirium. A man dying from a sudden blow does not commonly become +delirious. No, it was more likely to be an attempt to explain how +he met his fate. But what could it indicate? I cudgelled my +brains to find some possible explanation. And then the incident +of the grey cloth seen by young McCarthy. If that were true the +murderer must have dropped some part of his dress, presumably his +overcoat, in his flight, and must have had the hardihood to +return and to carry it away at the instant when the son was +kneeling with his back turned not a dozen paces off. What a +tissue of mysteries and improbabilities the whole thing was! I +did not wonder at Lestrade's opinion, and yet I had so much faith +in Sherlock Holmes' insight that I could not lose hope as long +as every fresh fact seemed to strengthen his conviction of young +McCarthy's innocence. + +It was late before Sherlock Holmes returned. He came back alone, +for Lestrade was staying in lodgings in the town. + +"The glass still keeps very high," he remarked as he sat down. +"It is of importance that it should not rain before we are able +to go over the ground. On the other hand, a man should be at his +very best and keenest for such nice work as that, and I did not +wish to do it when fagged by a long journey. I have seen young +McCarthy." + +"And what did you learn from him?" + +"Nothing." + +"Could he throw no light?" + +"None at all. I was inclined to think at one time that he knew +who had done it and was screening him or her, but I am convinced +now that he is as puzzled as everyone else. He is not a very +quick-witted youth, though comely to look at and, I should think, +sound at heart." + +"I cannot admire his taste," I remarked, "if it is indeed a fact +that he was averse to a marriage with so charming a young lady as +this Miss Turner." + +"Ah, thereby hangs a rather painful tale. This fellow is madly, +insanely, in love with her, but some two years ago, when he was +only a lad, and before he really knew her, for she had been away +five years at a boarding-school, what does the idiot do but get +into the clutches of a barmaid in Bristol and marry her at a +registry office? No one knows a word of the matter, but you can +imagine how maddening it must be to him to be upbraided for not +doing what he would give his very eyes to do, but what he knows +to be absolutely impossible. It was sheer frenzy of this sort +which made him throw his hands up into the air when his father, +at their last interview, was goading him on to propose to Miss +Turner. On the other hand, he had no means of supporting himself, +and his father, who was by all accounts a very hard man, would +have thrown him over utterly had he known the truth. It was with +his barmaid wife that he had spent the last three days in +Bristol, and his father did not know where he was. Mark that +point. It is of importance. Good has come out of evil, however, +for the barmaid, finding from the papers that he is in serious +trouble and likely to be hanged, has thrown him over utterly and +has written to him to say that she has a husband already in the +Bermuda Dockyard, so that there is really no tie between them. I +think that that bit of news has consoled young McCarthy for all +that he has suffered." + +"But if he is innocent, who has done it?" + +"Ah! who? I would call your attention very particularly to two +points. One is that the murdered man had an appointment with +someone at the pool, and that the someone could not have been his +son, for his son was away, and he did not know when he would +return. The second is that the murdered man was heard to cry +'Cooee!' before he knew that his son had returned. Those are the +crucial points upon which the case depends. And now let us talk +about George Meredith, if you please, and we shall leave all +minor matters until to-morrow." + +There was no rain, as Holmes had foretold, and the morning broke +bright and cloudless. At nine o'clock Lestrade called for us with +the carriage, and we set off for Hatherley Farm and the Boscombe +Pool. + +"There is serious news this morning," Lestrade observed. "It is +said that Mr. Turner, of the Hall, is so ill that his life is +despaired of." + +"An elderly man, I presume?" said Holmes. + +"About sixty; but his constitution has been shattered by his life +abroad, and he has been in failing health for some time. This +business has had a very bad effect upon him. He was an old friend +of McCarthy's, and, I may add, a great benefactor to him, for I +have learned that he gave him Hatherley Farm rent free." + +"Indeed! That is interesting," said Holmes. + +"Oh, yes! In a hundred other ways he has helped him. Everybody +about here speaks of his kindness to him." + +"Really! Does it not strike you as a little singular that this +McCarthy, who appears to have had little of his own, and to have +been under such obligations to Turner, should still talk of +marrying his son to Turner's daughter, who is, presumably, +heiress to the estate, and that in such a very cocksure manner, +as if it were merely a case of a proposal and all else would +follow? It is the more strange, since we know that Turner himself +was averse to the idea. The daughter told us as much. Do you not +deduce something from that?" + +"We have got to the deductions and the inferences," said +Lestrade, winking at me. "I find it hard enough to tackle facts, +Holmes, without flying away after theories and fancies." + +"You are right," said Holmes demurely; "you do find it very hard +to tackle the facts." + +"Anyhow, I have grasped one fact which you seem to find it +difficult to get hold of," replied Lestrade with some warmth. + +"And that is--" + +"That McCarthy senior met his death from McCarthy junior and that +all theories to the contrary are the merest moonshine." + +"Well, moonshine is a brighter thing than fog," said Holmes, +laughing. "But I am very much mistaken if this is not Hatherley +Farm upon the left." + +"Yes, that is it." It was a widespread, comfortable-looking +building, two-storied, slate-roofed, with great yellow blotches +of lichen upon the grey walls. The drawn blinds and the smokeless +chimneys, however, gave it a stricken look, as though the weight +of this horror still lay heavy upon it. We called at the door, +when the maid, at Holmes' request, showed us the boots which her +master wore at the time of his death, and also a pair of the +son's, though not the pair which he had then had. Having measured +these very carefully from seven or eight different points, Holmes +desired to be led to the court-yard, from which we all followed +the winding track which led to Boscombe Pool. + +Sherlock Holmes was transformed when he was hot upon such a scent +as this. Men who had only known the quiet thinker and logician of +Baker Street would have failed to recognise him. His face flushed +and darkened. His brows were drawn into two hard black lines, +while his eyes shone out from beneath them with a steely glitter. +His face was bent downward, his shoulders bowed, his lips +compressed, and the veins stood out like whipcord in his long, +sinewy neck. His nostrils seemed to dilate with a purely animal +lust for the chase, and his mind was so absolutely concentrated +upon the matter before him that a question or remark fell +unheeded upon his ears, or, at the most, only provoked a quick, +impatient snarl in reply. Swiftly and silently he made his way +along the track which ran through the meadows, and so by way of +the woods to the Boscombe Pool. It was damp, marshy ground, as is +all that district, and there were marks of many feet, both upon +the path and amid the short grass which bounded it on either +side. Sometimes Holmes would hurry on, sometimes stop dead, and +once he made quite a little detour into the meadow. Lestrade and +I walked behind him, the detective indifferent and contemptuous, +while I watched my friend with the interest which sprang from the +conviction that every one of his actions was directed towards a +definite end. + +The Boscombe Pool, which is a little reed-girt sheet of water +some fifty yards across, is situated at the boundary between the +Hatherley Farm and the private park of the wealthy Mr. Turner. +Above the woods which lined it upon the farther side we could see +the red, jutting pinnacles which marked the site of the rich +landowner's dwelling. On the Hatherley side of the pool the woods +grew very thick, and there was a narrow belt of sodden grass +twenty paces across between the edge of the trees and the reeds +which lined the lake. Lestrade showed us the exact spot at which +the body had been found, and, indeed, so moist was the ground, +that I could plainly see the traces which had been left by the +fall of the stricken man. To Holmes, as I could see by his eager +face and peering eyes, very many other things were to be read +upon the trampled grass. He ran round, like a dog who is picking +up a scent, and then turned upon my companion. + +"What did you go into the pool for?" he asked. + +"I fished about with a rake. I thought there might be some weapon +or other trace. But how on earth--" + +"Oh, tut, tut! I have no time! That left foot of yours with its +inward twist is all over the place. A mole could trace it, and +there it vanishes among the reeds. Oh, how simple it would all +have been had I been here before they came like a herd of buffalo +and wallowed all over it. Here is where the party with the +lodge-keeper came, and they have covered all tracks for six or +eight feet round the body. But here are three separate tracks of +the same feet." He drew out a lens and lay down upon his +waterproof to have a better view, talking all the time rather to +himself than to us. "These are young McCarthy's feet. Twice he +was walking, and once he ran swiftly, so that the soles are +deeply marked and the heels hardly visible. That bears out his +story. He ran when he saw his father on the ground. Then here are +the father's feet as he paced up and down. What is this, then? It +is the butt-end of the gun as the son stood listening. And this? +Ha, ha! What have we here? Tiptoes! tiptoes! Square, too, quite +unusual boots! They come, they go, they come again--of course +that was for the cloak. Now where did they come from?" He ran up +and down, sometimes losing, sometimes finding the track until we +were well within the edge of the wood and under the shadow of a +great beech, the largest tree in the neighbourhood. Holmes traced +his way to the farther side of this and lay down once more upon +his face with a little cry of satisfaction. For a long time he +remained there, turning over the leaves and dried sticks, +gathering up what seemed to me to be dust into an envelope and +examining with his lens not only the ground but even the bark of +the tree as far as he could reach. A jagged stone was lying among +the moss, and this also he carefully examined and retained. Then +he followed a pathway through the wood until he came to the +highroad, where all traces were lost. + +"It has been a case of considerable interest," he remarked, +returning to his natural manner. "I fancy that this grey house on +the right must be the lodge. I think that I will go in and have a +word with Moran, and perhaps write a little note. Having done +that, we may drive back to our luncheon. You may walk to the cab, +and I shall be with you presently." + +It was about ten minutes before we regained our cab and drove +back into Ross, Holmes still carrying with him the stone which he +had picked up in the wood. + +"This may interest you, Lestrade," he remarked, holding it out. +"The murder was done with it." + +"I see no marks." + +"There are none." + +"How do you know, then?" + +"The grass was growing under it. It had only lain there a few +days. There was no sign of a place whence it had been taken. It +corresponds with the injuries. There is no sign of any other +weapon." + +"And the murderer?" + +"Is a tall man, left-handed, limps with the right leg, wears +thick-soled shooting-boots and a grey cloak, smokes Indian +cigars, uses a cigar-holder, and carries a blunt pen-knife in his +pocket. There are several other indications, but these may be +enough to aid us in our search." + +Lestrade laughed. "I am afraid that I am still a sceptic," he +said. "Theories are all very well, but we have to deal with a +hard-headed British jury." + +"Nous verrons," answered Holmes calmly. "You work your own +method, and I shall work mine. I shall be busy this afternoon, +and shall probably return to London by the evening train." + +"And leave your case unfinished?" + +"No, finished." + +"But the mystery?" + +"It is solved." + +"Who was the criminal, then?" + +"The gentleman I describe." + +"But who is he?" + +"Surely it would not be difficult to find out. This is not such a +populous neighbourhood." + +Lestrade shrugged his shoulders. "I am a practical man," he said, +"and I really cannot undertake to go about the country looking +for a left-handed gentleman with a game leg. I should become the +laughing-stock of Scotland Yard." + +"All right," said Holmes quietly. "I have given you the chance. +Here are your lodgings. Good-bye. I shall drop you a line before +I leave." + +Having left Lestrade at his rooms, we drove to our hotel, where +we found lunch upon the table. Holmes was silent and buried in +thought with a pained expression upon his face, as one who finds +himself in a perplexing position. + +"Look here, Watson," he said when the cloth was cleared "just sit +down in this chair and let me preach to you for a little. I don't +know quite what to do, and I should value your advice. Light a +cigar and let me expound." + + "Pray do so." + +"Well, now, in considering this case there are two points about +young McCarthy's narrative which struck us both instantly, +although they impressed me in his favour and you against him. One +was the fact that his father should, according to his account, +cry 'Cooee!' before seeing him. The other was his singular dying +reference to a rat. He mumbled several words, you understand, but +that was all that caught the son's ear. Now from this double +point our research must commence, and we will begin it by +presuming that what the lad says is absolutely true." + +"What of this 'Cooee!' then?" + +"Well, obviously it could not have been meant for the son. The +son, as far as he knew, was in Bristol. It was mere chance that +he was within earshot. The 'Cooee!' was meant to attract the +attention of whoever it was that he had the appointment with. But +'Cooee' is a distinctly Australian cry, and one which is used +between Australians. There is a strong presumption that the +person whom McCarthy expected to meet him at Boscombe Pool was +someone who had been in Australia." + +"What of the rat, then?" + +Sherlock Holmes took a folded paper from his pocket and flattened +it out on the table. "This is a map of the Colony of Victoria," +he said. "I wired to Bristol for it last night." He put his hand +over part of the map. "What do you read?" + +"ARAT," I read. + +"And now?" He raised his hand. + +"BALLARAT." + +"Quite so. That was the word the man uttered, and of which his +son only caught the last two syllables. He was trying to utter +the name of his murderer. So and so, of Ballarat." + +"It is wonderful!" I exclaimed. + +"It is obvious. And now, you see, I had narrowed the field down +considerably. The possession of a grey garment was a third point +which, granting the son's statement to be correct, was a +certainty. We have come now out of mere vagueness to the definite +conception of an Australian from Ballarat with a grey cloak." + +"Certainly." + +"And one who was at home in the district, for the pool can only +be approached by the farm or by the estate, where strangers could +hardly wander." + +"Quite so." + +"Then comes our expedition of to-day. By an examination of the +ground I gained the trifling details which I gave to that +imbecile Lestrade, as to the personality of the criminal." + +"But how did you gain them?" + +"You know my method. It is founded upon the observation of +trifles." + +"His height I know that you might roughly judge from the length +of his stride. His boots, too, might be told from their traces." + +"Yes, they were peculiar boots." + +"But his lameness?" + +"The impression of his right foot was always less distinct than +his left. He put less weight upon it. Why? Because he limped--he +was lame." + +"But his left-handedness." + +"You were yourself struck by the nature of the injury as recorded +by the surgeon at the inquest. The blow was struck from +immediately behind, and yet was upon the left side. Now, how can +that be unless it were by a left-handed man? He had stood behind +that tree during the interview between the father and son. He had +even smoked there. I found the ash of a cigar, which my special +knowledge of tobacco ashes enables me to pronounce as an Indian +cigar. I have, as you know, devoted some attention to this, and +written a little monograph on the ashes of 140 different +varieties of pipe, cigar, and cigarette tobacco. Having found the +ash, I then looked round and discovered the stump among the moss +where he had tossed it. It was an Indian cigar, of the variety +which are rolled in Rotterdam." + +"And the cigar-holder?" + +"I could see that the end had not been in his mouth. Therefore he +used a holder. The tip had been cut off, not bitten off, but the +cut was not a clean one, so I deduced a blunt pen-knife." + +"Holmes," I said, "you have drawn a net round this man from which +he cannot escape, and you have saved an innocent human life as +truly as if you had cut the cord which was hanging him. I see the +direction in which all this points. The culprit is--" + +"Mr. John Turner," cried the hotel waiter, opening the door of +our sitting-room, and ushering in a visitor. + +The man who entered was a strange and impressive figure. His +slow, limping step and bowed shoulders gave the appearance of +decrepitude, and yet his hard, deep-lined, craggy features, and +his enormous limbs showed that he was possessed of unusual +strength of body and of character. His tangled beard, grizzled +hair, and outstanding, drooping eyebrows combined to give an air +of dignity and power to his appearance, but his face was of an +ashen white, while his lips and the corners of his nostrils were +tinged with a shade of blue. It was clear to me at a glance that +he was in the grip of some deadly and chronic disease. + +"Pray sit down on the sofa," said Holmes gently. "You had my +note?" + +"Yes, the lodge-keeper brought it up. You said that you wished to +see me here to avoid scandal." + +"I thought people would talk if I went to the Hall." + +"And why did you wish to see me?" He looked across at my +companion with despair in his weary eyes, as though his question +was already answered. + +"Yes," said Holmes, answering the look rather than the words. "It +is so. I know all about McCarthy." + +The old man sank his face in his hands. "God help me!" he cried. +"But I would not have let the young man come to harm. I give you +my word that I would have spoken out if it went against him at +the Assizes." + +"I am glad to hear you say so," said Holmes gravely. + +"I would have spoken now had it not been for my dear girl. It +would break her heart--it will break her heart when she hears +that I am arrested." + +"It may not come to that," said Holmes. + +"What?" + +"I am no official agent. I understand that it was your daughter +who required my presence here, and I am acting in her interests. +Young McCarthy must be got off, however." + +"I am a dying man," said old Turner. "I have had diabetes for +years. My doctor says it is a question whether I shall live a +month. Yet I would rather die under my own roof than in a gaol." + +Holmes rose and sat down at the table with his pen in his hand +and a bundle of paper before him. "Just tell us the truth," he +said. "I shall jot down the facts. You will sign it, and Watson +here can witness it. Then I could produce your confession at the +last extremity to save young McCarthy. I promise you that I shall +not use it unless it is absolutely needed." + +"It's as well," said the old man; "it's a question whether I +shall live to the Assizes, so it matters little to me, but I +should wish to spare Alice the shock. And now I will make the +thing clear to you; it has been a long time in the acting, but +will not take me long to tell. + +"You didn't know this dead man, McCarthy. He was a devil +incarnate. I tell you that. God keep you out of the clutches of +such a man as he. His grip has been upon me these twenty years, +and he has blasted my life. I'll tell you first how I came to be +in his power. + +"It was in the early '60's at the diggings. I was a young chap +then, hot-blooded and reckless, ready to turn my hand at +anything; I got among bad companions, took to drink, had no luck +with my claim, took to the bush, and in a word became what you +would call over here a highway robber. There were six of us, and +we had a wild, free life of it, sticking up a station from time +to time, or stopping the wagons on the road to the diggings. +Black Jack of Ballarat was the name I went under, and our party +is still remembered in the colony as the Ballarat Gang. + +"One day a gold convoy came down from Ballarat to Melbourne, and +we lay in wait for it and attacked it. There were six troopers +and six of us, so it was a close thing, but we emptied four of +their saddles at the first volley. Three of our boys were killed, +however, before we got the swag. I put my pistol to the head of +the wagon-driver, who was this very man McCarthy. I wish to the +Lord that I had shot him then, but I spared him, though I saw his +wicked little eyes fixed on my face, as though to remember every +feature. We got away with the gold, became wealthy men, and made +our way over to England without being suspected. There I parted +from my old pals and determined to settle down to a quiet and +respectable life. I bought this estate, which chanced to be in +the market, and I set myself to do a little good with my money, +to make up for the way in which I had earned it. I married, too, +and though my wife died young she left me my dear little Alice. +Even when she was just a baby her wee hand seemed to lead me down +the right path as nothing else had ever done. In a word, I turned +over a new leaf and did my best to make up for the past. All was +going well when McCarthy laid his grip upon me. + +"I had gone up to town about an investment, and I met him in +Regent Street with hardly a coat to his back or a boot to his +foot. + +"'Here we are, Jack,' says he, touching me on the arm; 'we'll be +as good as a family to you. There's two of us, me and my son, and +you can have the keeping of us. If you don't--it's a fine, +law-abiding country is England, and there's always a policeman +within hail.' + +"Well, down they came to the west country, there was no shaking +them off, and there they have lived rent free on my best land +ever since. There was no rest for me, no peace, no forgetfulness; +turn where I would, there was his cunning, grinning face at my +elbow. It grew worse as Alice grew up, for he soon saw I was more +afraid of her knowing my past than of the police. Whatever he +wanted he must have, and whatever it was I gave him without +question, land, money, houses, until at last he asked a thing +which I could not give. He asked for Alice. + +"His son, you see, had grown up, and so had my girl, and as I was +known to be in weak health, it seemed a fine stroke to him that +his lad should step into the whole property. But there I was +firm. I would not have his cursed stock mixed with mine; not that +I had any dislike to the lad, but his blood was in him, and that +was enough. I stood firm. McCarthy threatened. I braved him to do +his worst. We were to meet at the pool midway between our houses +to talk it over. + +"When I went down there I found him talking with his son, so I +smoked a cigar and waited behind a tree until he should be alone. +But as I listened to his talk all that was black and bitter in +me seemed to come uppermost. He was urging his son to marry my +daughter with as little regard for what she might think as if she +were a slut from off the streets. It drove me mad to think that I +and all that I held most dear should be in the power of such a +man as this. Could I not snap the bond? I was already a dying and +a desperate man. Though clear of mind and fairly strong of limb, +I knew that my own fate was sealed. But my memory and my girl! +Both could be saved if I could but silence that foul tongue. I +did it, Mr. Holmes. I would do it again. Deeply as I have sinned, +I have led a life of martyrdom to atone for it. But that my girl +should be entangled in the same meshes which held me was more +than I could suffer. I struck him down with no more compunction +than if he had been some foul and venomous beast. His cry brought +back his son; but I had gained the cover of the wood, though I +was forced to go back to fetch the cloak which I had dropped in +my flight. That is the true story, gentlemen, of all that +occurred." + +"Well, it is not for me to judge you," said Holmes as the old man +signed the statement which had been drawn out. "I pray that we +may never be exposed to such a temptation." + +"I pray not, sir. And what do you intend to do?" + +"In view of your health, nothing. You are yourself aware that you +will soon have to answer for your deed at a higher court than the +Assizes. I will keep your confession, and if McCarthy is +condemned I shall be forced to use it. If not, it shall never be +seen by mortal eye; and your secret, whether you be alive or +dead, shall be safe with us." + +"Farewell, then," said the old man solemnly. "Your own deathbeds, +when they come, will be the easier for the thought of the peace +which you have given to mine." Tottering and shaking in all his +giant frame, he stumbled slowly from the room. + +"God help us!" said Holmes after a long silence. "Why does fate +play such tricks with poor, helpless worms? I never hear of such +a case as this that I do not think of Baxter's words, and say, +'There, but for the grace of God, goes Sherlock Holmes.'" + +James McCarthy was acquitted at the Assizes on the strength of a +number of objections which had been drawn out by Holmes and +submitted to the defending counsel. Old Turner lived for seven +months after our interview, but he is now dead; and there is +every prospect that the son and daughter may come to live happily +together in ignorance of the black cloud which rests upon their +past. + + + +ADVENTURE V. THE FIVE ORANGE PIPS + +When I glance over my notes and records of the Sherlock Holmes +cases between the years '82 and '90, I am faced by so many which +present strange and interesting features that it is no easy +matter to know which to choose and which to leave. Some, however, +have already gained publicity through the papers, and others have +not offered a field for those peculiar qualities which my friend +possessed in so high a degree, and which it is the object of +these papers to illustrate. Some, too, have baffled his +analytical skill, and would be, as narratives, beginnings without +an ending, while others have been but partially cleared up, and +have their explanations founded rather upon conjecture and +surmise than on that absolute logical proof which was so dear to +him. There is, however, one of these last which was so remarkable +in its details and so startling in its results that I am tempted +to give some account of it in spite of the fact that there are +points in connection with it which never have been, and probably +never will be, entirely cleared up. + +The year '87 furnished us with a long series of cases of greater +or less interest, of which I retain the records. Among my +headings under this one twelve months I find an account of the +adventure of the Paradol Chamber, of the Amateur Mendicant +Society, who held a luxurious club in the lower vault of a +furniture warehouse, of the facts connected with the loss of the +British barque "Sophy Anderson", of the singular adventures of the +Grice Patersons in the island of Uffa, and finally of the +Camberwell poisoning case. In the latter, as may be remembered, +Sherlock Holmes was able, by winding up the dead man's watch, to +prove that it had been wound up two hours before, and that +therefore the deceased had gone to bed within that time--a +deduction which was of the greatest importance in clearing up the +case. All these I may sketch out at some future date, but none of +them present such singular features as the strange train of +circumstances which I have now taken up my pen to describe. + +It was in the latter days of September, and the equinoctial gales +had set in with exceptional violence. All day the wind had +screamed and the rain had beaten against the windows, so that +even here in the heart of great, hand-made London we were forced +to raise our minds for the instant from the routine of life and +to recognise the presence of those great elemental forces which +shriek at mankind through the bars of his civilisation, like +untamed beasts in a cage. As evening drew in, the storm grew +higher and louder, and the wind cried and sobbed like a child in +the chimney. Sherlock Holmes sat moodily at one side of the +fireplace cross-indexing his records of crime, while I at the +other was deep in one of Clark Russell's fine sea-stories until +the howl of the gale from without seemed to blend with the text, +and the splash of the rain to lengthen out into the long swash of +the sea waves. My wife was on a visit to her mother's, and for a +few days I was a dweller once more in my old quarters at Baker +Street. + +"Why," said I, glancing up at my companion, "that was surely the +bell. Who could come to-night? Some friend of yours, perhaps?" + +"Except yourself I have none," he answered. "I do not encourage +visitors." + +"A client, then?" + +"If so, it is a serious case. Nothing less would bring a man out +on such a day and at such an hour. But I take it that it is more +likely to be some crony of the landlady's." + +Sherlock Holmes was wrong in his conjecture, however, for there +came a step in the passage and a tapping at the door. He +stretched out his long arm to turn the lamp away from himself and +towards the vacant chair upon which a newcomer must sit. + +"Come in!" said he. + +The man who entered was young, some two-and-twenty at the +outside, well-groomed and trimly clad, with something of +refinement and delicacy in his bearing. The streaming umbrella +which he held in his hand, and his long shining waterproof told +of the fierce weather through which he had come. He looked about +him anxiously in the glare of the lamp, and I could see that his +face was pale and his eyes heavy, like those of a man who is +weighed down with some great anxiety. + +"I owe you an apology," he said, raising his golden pince-nez to +his eyes. "I trust that I am not intruding. I fear that I have +brought some traces of the storm and rain into your snug +chamber." + +"Give me your coat and umbrella," said Holmes. "They may rest +here on the hook and will be dry presently. You have come up from +the south-west, I see." + +"Yes, from Horsham." + +"That clay and chalk mixture which I see upon your toe caps is +quite distinctive." + +"I have come for advice." + +"That is easily got." + +"And help." + +"That is not always so easy." + +"I have heard of you, Mr. Holmes. I heard from Major Prendergast +how you saved him in the Tankerville Club scandal." + +"Ah, of course. He was wrongfully accused of cheating at cards." + +"He said that you could solve anything." + +"He said too much." + +"That you are never beaten." + +"I have been beaten four times--three times by men, and once by a +woman." + +"But what is that compared with the number of your successes?" + +"It is true that I have been generally successful." + +"Then you may be so with me." + +"I beg that you will draw your chair up to the fire and favour me +with some details as to your case." + +"It is no ordinary one." + +"None of those which come to me are. I am the last court of +appeal." + +"And yet I question, sir, whether, in all your experience, you +have ever listened to a more mysterious and inexplicable chain of +events than those which have happened in my own family." + +"You fill me with interest," said Holmes. "Pray give us the +essential facts from the commencement, and I can afterwards +question you as to those details which seem to me to be most +important." + +The young man pulled his chair up and pushed his wet feet out +towards the blaze. + +"My name," said he, "is John Openshaw, but my own affairs have, +as far as I can understand, little to do with this awful +business. It is a hereditary matter; so in order to give you an +idea of the facts, I must go back to the commencement of the +affair. + +"You must know that my grandfather had two sons--my uncle Elias +and my father Joseph. My father had a small factory at Coventry, +which he enlarged at the time of the invention of bicycling. He +was a patentee of the Openshaw unbreakable tire, and his business +met with such success that he was able to sell it and to retire +upon a handsome competence. + +"My uncle Elias emigrated to America when he was a young man and +became a planter in Florida, where he was reported to have done +very well. At the time of the war he fought in Jackson's army, +and afterwards under Hood, where he rose to be a colonel. When +Lee laid down his arms my uncle returned to his plantation, where +he remained for three or four years. About 1869 or 1870 he came +back to Europe and took a small estate in Sussex, near Horsham. +He had made a very considerable fortune in the States, and his +reason for leaving them was his aversion to the negroes, and his +dislike of the Republican policy in extending the franchise to +them. He was a singular man, fierce and quick-tempered, very +foul-mouthed when he was angry, and of a most retiring +disposition. During all the years that he lived at Horsham, I +doubt if ever he set foot in the town. He had a garden and two or +three fields round his house, and there he would take his +exercise, though very often for weeks on end he would never leave +his room. He drank a great deal of brandy and smoked very +heavily, but he would see no society and did not want any +friends, not even his own brother. + +"He didn't mind me; in fact, he took a fancy to me, for at the +time when he saw me first I was a youngster of twelve or so. This +would be in the year 1878, after he had been eight or nine years +in England. He begged my father to let me live with him and he +was very kind to me in his way. When he was sober he used to be +fond of playing backgammon and draughts with me, and he would +make me his representative both with the servants and with the +tradespeople, so that by the time that I was sixteen I was quite +master of the house. I kept all the keys and could go where I +liked and do what I liked, so long as I did not disturb him in +his privacy. There was one singular exception, however, for he +had a single room, a lumber-room up among the attics, which was +invariably locked, and which he would never permit either me or +anyone else to enter. With a boy's curiosity I have peeped +through the keyhole, but I was never able to see more than such a +collection of old trunks and bundles as would be expected in such +a room. + +"One day--it was in March, 1883--a letter with a foreign stamp +lay upon the table in front of the colonel's plate. It was not a +common thing for him to receive letters, for his bills were all +paid in ready money, and he had no friends of any sort. 'From +India!' said he as he took it up, 'Pondicherry postmark! What can +this be?' Opening it hurriedly, out there jumped five little +dried orange pips, which pattered down upon his plate. I began to +laugh at this, but the laugh was struck from my lips at the sight +of his face. His lip had fallen, his eyes were protruding, his +skin the colour of putty, and he glared at the envelope which he +still held in his trembling hand, 'K. K. K.!' he shrieked, and +then, 'My God, my God, my sins have overtaken me!' + +"'What is it, uncle?' I cried. + +"'Death,' said he, and rising from the table he retired to his +room, leaving me palpitating with horror. I took up the envelope +and saw scrawled in red ink upon the inner flap, just above the +gum, the letter K three times repeated. There was nothing else +save the five dried pips. What could be the reason of his +overpowering terror? I left the breakfast-table, and as I +ascended the stair I met him coming down with an old rusty key, +which must have belonged to the attic, in one hand, and a small +brass box, like a cashbox, in the other. + +"'They may do what they like, but I'll checkmate them still,' +said he with an oath. 'Tell Mary that I shall want a fire in my +room to-day, and send down to Fordham, the Horsham lawyer.' + +"I did as he ordered, and when the lawyer arrived I was asked to +step up to the room. The fire was burning brightly, and in the +grate there was a mass of black, fluffy ashes, as of burned +paper, while the brass box stood open and empty beside it. As I +glanced at the box I noticed, with a start, that upon the lid was +printed the treble K which I had read in the morning upon the +envelope. + +"'I wish you, John,' said my uncle, 'to witness my will. I leave +my estate, with all its advantages and all its disadvantages, to +my brother, your father, whence it will, no doubt, descend to +you. If you can enjoy it in peace, well and good! If you find you +cannot, take my advice, my boy, and leave it to your deadliest +enemy. I am sorry to give you such a two-edged thing, but I can't +say what turn things are going to take. Kindly sign the paper +where Mr. Fordham shows you.' + +"I signed the paper as directed, and the lawyer took it away with +him. The singular incident made, as you may think, the deepest +impression upon me, and I pondered over it and turned it every +way in my mind without being able to make anything of it. Yet I +could not shake off the vague feeling of dread which it left +behind, though the sensation grew less keen as the weeks passed +and nothing happened to disturb the usual routine of our lives. I +could see a change in my uncle, however. He drank more than ever, +and he was less inclined for any sort of society. Most of his +time he would spend in his room, with the door locked upon the +inside, but sometimes he would emerge in a sort of drunken frenzy +and would burst out of the house and tear about the garden with a +revolver in his hand, screaming out that he was afraid of no man, +and that he was not to be cooped up, like a sheep in a pen, by +man or devil. When these hot fits were over, however, he would +rush tumultuously in at the door and lock and bar it behind him, +like a man who can brazen it out no longer against the terror +which lies at the roots of his soul. At such times I have seen +his face, even on a cold day, glisten with moisture, as though it +were new raised from a basin. + +"Well, to come to an end of the matter, Mr. Holmes, and not to +abuse your patience, there came a night when he made one of those +drunken sallies from which he never came back. We found him, when +we went to search for him, face downward in a little +green-scummed pool, which lay at the foot of the garden. There +was no sign of any violence, and the water was but two feet deep, +so that the jury, having regard to his known eccentricity, +brought in a verdict of 'suicide.' But I, who knew how he winced +from the very thought of death, had much ado to persuade myself +that he had gone out of his way to meet it. The matter passed, +however, and my father entered into possession of the estate, and +of some 14,000 pounds, which lay to his credit at the bank." + +"One moment," Holmes interposed, "your statement is, I foresee, +one of the most remarkable to which I have ever listened. Let me +have the date of the reception by your uncle of the letter, and +the date of his supposed suicide." + +"The letter arrived on March 10, 1883. His death was seven weeks +later, upon the night of May 2nd." + +"Thank you. Pray proceed." + +"When my father took over the Horsham property, he, at my +request, made a careful examination of the attic, which had been +always locked up. We found the brass box there, although its +contents had been destroyed. On the inside of the cover was a +paper label, with the initials of K. K. K. repeated upon it, and +'Letters, memoranda, receipts, and a register' written beneath. +These, we presume, indicated the nature of the papers which had +been destroyed by Colonel Openshaw. For the rest, there was +nothing of much importance in the attic save a great many +scattered papers and note-books bearing upon my uncle's life in +America. Some of them were of the war time and showed that he had +done his duty well and had borne the repute of a brave soldier. +Others were of a date during the reconstruction of the Southern +states, and were mostly concerned with politics, for he had +evidently taken a strong part in opposing the carpet-bag +politicians who had been sent down from the North. + +"Well, it was the beginning of '84 when my father came to live at +Horsham, and all went as well as possible with us until the +January of '85. On the fourth day after the new year I heard my +father give a sharp cry of surprise as we sat together at the +breakfast-table. There he was, sitting with a newly opened +envelope in one hand and five dried orange pips in the +outstretched palm of the other one. He had always laughed at what +he called my cock-and-bull story about the colonel, but he looked +very scared and puzzled now that the same thing had come upon +himself. + +"'Why, what on earth does this mean, John?' he stammered. + +"My heart had turned to lead. 'It is K. K. K.,' said I. + +"He looked inside the envelope. 'So it is,' he cried. 'Here are +the very letters. But what is this written above them?' + +"'Put the papers on the sundial,' I read, peeping over his +shoulder. + +"'What papers? What sundial?' he asked. + +"'The sundial in the garden. There is no other,' said I; 'but the +papers must be those that are destroyed.' + +"'Pooh!' said he, gripping hard at his courage. 'We are in a +civilised land here, and we can't have tomfoolery of this kind. +Where does the thing come from?' + +"'From Dundee,' I answered, glancing at the postmark. + +"'Some preposterous practical joke,' said he. 'What have I to do +with sundials and papers? I shall take no notice of such +nonsense.' + +"'I should certainly speak to the police,' I said. + +"'And be laughed at for my pains. Nothing of the sort.' + +"'Then let me do so?' + +"'No, I forbid you. I won't have a fuss made about such +nonsense.' + +"It was in vain to argue with him, for he was a very obstinate +man. I went about, however, with a heart which was full of +forebodings. + +"On the third day after the coming of the letter my father went +from home to visit an old friend of his, Major Freebody, who is +in command of one of the forts upon Portsdown Hill. I was glad +that he should go, for it seemed to me that he was farther from +danger when he was away from home. In that, however, I was in +error. Upon the second day of his absence I received a telegram +from the major, imploring me to come at once. My father had +fallen over one of the deep chalk-pits which abound in the +neighbourhood, and was lying senseless, with a shattered skull. I +hurried to him, but he passed away without having ever recovered +his consciousness. He had, as it appears, been returning from +Fareham in the twilight, and as the country was unknown to him, +and the chalk-pit unfenced, the jury had no hesitation in +bringing in a verdict of 'death from accidental causes.' +Carefully as I examined every fact connected with his death, I +was unable to find anything which could suggest the idea of +murder. There were no signs of violence, no footmarks, no +robbery, no record of strangers having been seen upon the roads. +And yet I need not tell you that my mind was far from at ease, +and that I was well-nigh certain that some foul plot had been +woven round him. + +"In this sinister way I came into my inheritance. You will ask me +why I did not dispose of it? I answer, because I was well +convinced that our troubles were in some way dependent upon an +incident in my uncle's life, and that the danger would be as +pressing in one house as in another. + +"It was in January, '85, that my poor father met his end, and two +years and eight months have elapsed since then. During that time +I have lived happily at Horsham, and I had begun to hope that +this curse had passed away from the family, and that it had ended +with the last generation. I had begun to take comfort too soon, +however; yesterday morning the blow fell in the very shape in +which it had come upon my father." + +The young man took from his waistcoat a crumpled envelope, and +turning to the table he shook out upon it five little dried +orange pips. + +"This is the envelope," he continued. "The postmark is +London--eastern division. Within are the very words which were +upon my father's last message: 'K. K. K.'; and then 'Put the +papers on the sundial.'" + +"What have you done?" asked Holmes. + +"Nothing." + +"Nothing?" + +"To tell the truth"--he sank his face into his thin, white +hands--"I have felt helpless. I have felt like one of those poor +rabbits when the snake is writhing towards it. I seem to be in +the grasp of some resistless, inexorable evil, which no foresight +and no precautions can guard against." + +"Tut! tut!" cried Sherlock Holmes. "You must act, man, or you are +lost. Nothing but energy can save you. This is no time for +despair." + +"I have seen the police." + +"Ah!" + +"But they listened to my story with a smile. I am convinced that +the inspector has formed the opinion that the letters are all +practical jokes, and that the deaths of my relations were really +accidents, as the jury stated, and were not to be connected with +the warnings." + +Holmes shook his clenched hands in the air. "Incredible +imbecility!" he cried. + +"They have, however, allowed me a policeman, who may remain in +the house with me." + +"Has he come with you to-night?" + +"No. His orders were to stay in the house." + +Again Holmes raved in the air. + +"Why did you come to me," he cried, "and, above all, why did you +not come at once?" + +"I did not know. It was only to-day that I spoke to Major +Prendergast about my troubles and was advised by him to come to +you." + +"It is really two days since you had the letter. We should have +acted before this. You have no further evidence, I suppose, than +that which you have placed before us--no suggestive detail which +might help us?" + +"There is one thing," said John Openshaw. He rummaged in his coat +pocket, and, drawing out a piece of discoloured, blue-tinted +paper, he laid it out upon the table. "I have some remembrance," +said he, "that on the day when my uncle burned the papers I +observed that the small, unburned margins which lay amid the +ashes were of this particular colour. I found this single sheet +upon the floor of his room, and I am inclined to think that it +may be one of the papers which has, perhaps, fluttered out from +among the others, and in that way has escaped destruction. Beyond +the mention of pips, I do not see that it helps us much. I think +myself that it is a page from some private diary. The writing is +undoubtedly my uncle's." + +Holmes moved the lamp, and we both bent over the sheet of paper, +which showed by its ragged edge that it had indeed been torn from +a book. It was headed, "March, 1869," and beneath were the +following enigmatical notices: + +"4th. Hudson came. Same old platform. + +"7th. Set the pips on McCauley, Paramore, and + John Swain, of St. Augustine. + +"9th. McCauley cleared. + +"10th. John Swain cleared. + +"12th. Visited Paramore. All well." + +"Thank you!" said Holmes, folding up the paper and returning it +to our visitor. "And now you must on no account lose another +instant. We cannot spare time even to discuss what you have told +me. You must get home instantly and act." + +"What shall I do?" + +"There is but one thing to do. It must be done at once. You must +put this piece of paper which you have shown us into the brass +box which you have described. You must also put in a note to say +that all the other papers were burned by your uncle, and that +this is the only one which remains. You must assert that in such +words as will carry conviction with them. Having done this, you +must at once put the box out upon the sundial, as directed. Do +you understand?" + +"Entirely." + +"Do not think of revenge, or anything of the sort, at present. I +think that we may gain that by means of the law; but we have our +web to weave, while theirs is already woven. The first +consideration is to remove the pressing danger which threatens +you. The second is to clear up the mystery and to punish the +guilty parties." + +"I thank you," said the young man, rising and pulling on his +overcoat. "You have given me fresh life and hope. I shall +certainly do as you advise." + +"Do not lose an instant. And, above all, take care of yourself in +the meanwhile, for I do not think that there can be a doubt that +you are threatened by a very real and imminent danger. How do you +go back?" + +"By train from Waterloo." + +"It is not yet nine. The streets will be crowded, so I trust that +you may be in safety. And yet you cannot guard yourself too +closely." + +"I am armed." + +"That is well. To-morrow I shall set to work upon your case." + +"I shall see you at Horsham, then?" + +"No, your secret lies in London. It is there that I shall seek +it." + +"Then I shall call upon you in a day, or in two days, with news +as to the box and the papers. I shall take your advice in every +particular." He shook hands with us and took his leave. Outside +the wind still screamed and the rain splashed and pattered +against the windows. This strange, wild story seemed to have come +to us from amid the mad elements--blown in upon us like a sheet +of sea-weed in a gale--and now to have been reabsorbed by them +once more. + +Sherlock Holmes sat for some time in silence, with his head sunk +forward and his eyes bent upon the red glow of the fire. Then he +lit his pipe, and leaning back in his chair he watched the blue +smoke-rings as they chased each other up to the ceiling. + +"I think, Watson," he remarked at last, "that of all our cases we +have had none more fantastic than this." + +"Save, perhaps, the Sign of Four." + +"Well, yes. Save, perhaps, that. And yet this John Openshaw seems +to me to be walking amid even greater perils than did the +Sholtos." + +"But have you," I asked, "formed any definite conception as to +what these perils are?" + +"There can be no question as to their nature," he answered. + +"Then what are they? Who is this K. K. K., and why does he pursue +this unhappy family?" + +Sherlock Holmes closed his eyes and placed his elbows upon the +arms of his chair, with his finger-tips together. "The ideal +reasoner," he remarked, "would, when he had once been shown a +single fact in all its bearings, deduce from it not only all the +chain of events which led up to it but also all the results which +would follow from it. As Cuvier could correctly describe a whole +animal by the contemplation of a single bone, so the observer who +has thoroughly understood one link in a series of incidents +should be able to accurately state all the other ones, both +before and after. We have not yet grasped the results which the +reason alone can attain to. Problems may be solved in the study +which have baffled all those who have sought a solution by the +aid of their senses. To carry the art, however, to its highest +pitch, it is necessary that the reasoner should be able to +utilise all the facts which have come to his knowledge; and this +in itself implies, as you will readily see, a possession of all +knowledge, which, even in these days of free education and +encyclopaedias, is a somewhat rare accomplishment. It is not so +impossible, however, that a man should possess all knowledge +which is likely to be useful to him in his work, and this I have +endeavoured in my case to do. If I remember rightly, you on one +occasion, in the early days of our friendship, defined my limits +in a very precise fashion." + +"Yes," I answered, laughing. "It was a singular document. +Philosophy, astronomy, and politics were marked at zero, I +remember. Botany variable, geology profound as regards the +mud-stains from any region within fifty miles of town, chemistry +eccentric, anatomy unsystematic, sensational literature and crime +records unique, violin-player, boxer, swordsman, lawyer, and +self-poisoner by cocaine and tobacco. Those, I think, were the +main points of my analysis." + +Holmes grinned at the last item. "Well," he said, "I say now, as +I said then, that a man should keep his little brain-attic +stocked with all the furniture that he is likely to use, and the +rest he can put away in the lumber-room of his library, where he +can get it if he wants it. Now, for such a case as the one which +has been submitted to us to-night, we need certainly to muster +all our resources. Kindly hand me down the letter K of the +'American Encyclopaedia' which stands upon the shelf beside you. +Thank you. Now let us consider the situation and see what may be +deduced from it. In the first place, we may start with a strong +presumption that Colonel Openshaw had some very strong reason for +leaving America. Men at his time of life do not change all their +habits and exchange willingly the charming climate of Florida for +the lonely life of an English provincial town. His extreme love +of solitude in England suggests the idea that he was in fear of +someone or something, so we may assume as a working hypothesis +that it was fear of someone or something which drove him from +America. As to what it was he feared, we can only deduce that by +considering the formidable letters which were received by himself +and his successors. Did you remark the postmarks of those +letters?" + +"The first was from Pondicherry, the second from Dundee, and the +third from London." + +"From East London. What do you deduce from that?" + +"They are all seaports. That the writer was on board of a ship." + +"Excellent. We have already a clue. There can be no doubt that +the probability--the strong probability--is that the writer was +on board of a ship. And now let us consider another point. In the +case of Pondicherry, seven weeks elapsed between the threat and +its fulfilment, in Dundee it was only some three or four days. +Does that suggest anything?" + +"A greater distance to travel." + +"But the letter had also a greater distance to come." + +"Then I do not see the point." + +"There is at least a presumption that the vessel in which the man +or men are is a sailing-ship. It looks as if they always send +their singular warning or token before them when starting upon +their mission. You see how quickly the deed followed the sign +when it came from Dundee. If they had come from Pondicherry in a +steamer they would have arrived almost as soon as their letter. +But, as a matter of fact, seven weeks elapsed. I think that those +seven weeks represented the difference between the mail-boat which +brought the letter and the sailing vessel which brought the +writer." + +"It is possible." + +"More than that. It is probable. And now you see the deadly +urgency of this new case, and why I urged young Openshaw to +caution. The blow has always fallen at the end of the time which +it would take the senders to travel the distance. But this one +comes from London, and therefore we cannot count upon delay." + +"Good God!" I cried. "What can it mean, this relentless +persecution?" + +"The papers which Openshaw carried are obviously of vital +importance to the person or persons in the sailing-ship. I think +that it is quite clear that there must be more than one of them. +A single man could not have carried out two deaths in such a way +as to deceive a coroner's jury. There must have been several in +it, and they must have been men of resource and determination. +Their papers they mean to have, be the holder of them who it may. +In this way you see K. K. K. ceases to be the initials of an +individual and becomes the badge of a society." + +"But of what society?" + +"Have you never--" said Sherlock Holmes, bending forward and +sinking his voice--"have you never heard of the Ku Klux Klan?" + +"I never have." + +Holmes turned over the leaves of the book upon his knee. "Here it +is," said he presently: + +"'Ku Klux Klan. A name derived from the fanciful resemblance to +the sound produced by cocking a rifle. This terrible secret +society was formed by some ex-Confederate soldiers in the +Southern states after the Civil War, and it rapidly formed local +branches in different parts of the country, notably in Tennessee, +Louisiana, the Carolinas, Georgia, and Florida. Its power was +used for political purposes, principally for the terrorising of +the negro voters and the murdering and driving from the country +of those who were opposed to its views. Its outrages were usually +preceded by a warning sent to the marked man in some fantastic +but generally recognised shape--a sprig of oak-leaves in some +parts, melon seeds or orange pips in others. On receiving this +the victim might either openly abjure his former ways, or might +fly from the country. If he braved the matter out, death would +unfailingly come upon him, and usually in some strange and +unforeseen manner. So perfect was the organisation of the +society, and so systematic its methods, that there is hardly a +case upon record where any man succeeded in braving it with +impunity, or in which any of its outrages were traced home to the +perpetrators. For some years the organisation flourished in spite +of the efforts of the United States government and of the better +classes of the community in the South. Eventually, in the year +1869, the movement rather suddenly collapsed, although there have +been sporadic outbreaks of the same sort since that date.' + +"You will observe," said Holmes, laying down the volume, "that +the sudden breaking up of the society was coincident with the +disappearance of Openshaw from America with their papers. It may +well have been cause and effect. It is no wonder that he and his +family have some of the more implacable spirits upon their track. +You can understand that this register and diary may implicate +some of the first men in the South, and that there may be many +who will not sleep easy at night until it is recovered." + +"Then the page we have seen--" + +"Is such as we might expect. It ran, if I remember right, 'sent +the pips to A, B, and C'--that is, sent the society's warning to +them. Then there are successive entries that A and B cleared, or +left the country, and finally that C was visited, with, I fear, a +sinister result for C. Well, I think, Doctor, that we may let +some light into this dark place, and I believe that the only +chance young Openshaw has in the meantime is to do what I have +told him. There is nothing more to be said or to be done +to-night, so hand me over my violin and let us try to forget for +half an hour the miserable weather and the still more miserable +ways of our fellow-men." + + +It had cleared in the morning, and the sun was shining with a +subdued brightness through the dim veil which hangs over the +great city. Sherlock Holmes was already at breakfast when I came +down. + +"You will excuse me for not waiting for you," said he; "I have, I +foresee, a very busy day before me in looking into this case of +young Openshaw's." + +"What steps will you take?" I asked. + +"It will very much depend upon the results of my first inquiries. +I may have to go down to Horsham, after all." + +"You will not go there first?" + +"No, I shall commence with the City. Just ring the bell and the +maid will bring up your coffee." + +As I waited, I lifted the unopened newspaper from the table and +glanced my eye over it. It rested upon a heading which sent a +chill to my heart. + +"Holmes," I cried, "you are too late." + +"Ah!" said he, laying down his cup, "I feared as much. How was it +done?" He spoke calmly, but I could see that he was deeply moved. + +"My eye caught the name of Openshaw, and the heading 'Tragedy +Near Waterloo Bridge.' Here is the account: + +"Between nine and ten last night Police-Constable Cook, of the H +Division, on duty near Waterloo Bridge, heard a cry for help and +a splash in the water. The night, however, was extremely dark and +stormy, so that, in spite of the help of several passers-by, it +was quite impossible to effect a rescue. The alarm, however, was +given, and, by the aid of the water-police, the body was +eventually recovered. It proved to be that of a young gentleman +whose name, as it appears from an envelope which was found in his +pocket, was John Openshaw, and whose residence is near Horsham. +It is conjectured that he may have been hurrying down to catch +the last train from Waterloo Station, and that in his haste and +the extreme darkness he missed his path and walked over the edge +of one of the small landing-places for river steamboats. The body +exhibited no traces of violence, and there can be no doubt that +the deceased had been the victim of an unfortunate accident, +which should have the effect of calling the attention of the +authorities to the condition of the riverside landing-stages." + +We sat in silence for some minutes, Holmes more depressed and +shaken than I had ever seen him. + +"That hurts my pride, Watson," he said at last. "It is a petty +feeling, no doubt, but it hurts my pride. It becomes a personal +matter with me now, and, if God sends me health, I shall set my +hand upon this gang. That he should come to me for help, and that +I should send him away to his death--!" He sprang from his chair +and paced about the room in uncontrollable agitation, with a +flush upon his sallow cheeks and a nervous clasping and +unclasping of his long thin hands. + +"They must be cunning devils," he exclaimed at last. "How could +they have decoyed him down there? The Embankment is not on the +direct line to the station. The bridge, no doubt, was too +crowded, even on such a night, for their purpose. Well, Watson, +we shall see who will win in the long run. I am going out now!" + +"To the police?" + +"No; I shall be my own police. When I have spun the web they may +take the flies, but not before." + +All day I was engaged in my professional work, and it was late in +the evening before I returned to Baker Street. Sherlock Holmes +had not come back yet. It was nearly ten o'clock before he +entered, looking pale and worn. He walked up to the sideboard, +and tearing a piece from the loaf he devoured it voraciously, +washing it down with a long draught of water. + +"You are hungry," I remarked. + +"Starving. It had escaped my memory. I have had nothing since +breakfast." + +"Nothing?" + +"Not a bite. I had no time to think of it." + +"And how have you succeeded?" + +"Well." + +"You have a clue?" + +"I have them in the hollow of my hand. Young Openshaw shall not +long remain unavenged. Why, Watson, let us put their own devilish +trade-mark upon them. It is well thought of!" + +"What do you mean?" + +He took an orange from the cupboard, and tearing it to pieces he +squeezed out the pips upon the table. Of these he took five and +thrust them into an envelope. On the inside of the flap he wrote +"S. H. for J. O." Then he sealed it and addressed it to "Captain +James Calhoun, Barque 'Lone Star,' Savannah, Georgia." + +"That will await him when he enters port," said he, chuckling. +"It may give him a sleepless night. He will find it as sure a +precursor of his fate as Openshaw did before him." + +"And who is this Captain Calhoun?" + +"The leader of the gang. I shall have the others, but he first." + +"How did you trace it, then?" + +He took a large sheet of paper from his pocket, all covered with +dates and names. + +"I have spent the whole day," said he, "over Lloyd's registers +and files of the old papers, following the future career of every +vessel which touched at Pondicherry in January and February in +'83. There were thirty-six ships of fair tonnage which were +reported there during those months. Of these, one, the 'Lone Star,' +instantly attracted my attention, since, although it was reported +as having cleared from London, the name is that which is given to +one of the states of the Union." + +"Texas, I think." + +"I was not and am not sure which; but I knew that the ship must +have an American origin." + +"What then?" + +"I searched the Dundee records, and when I found that the barque +'Lone Star' was there in January, '85, my suspicion became a +certainty. I then inquired as to the vessels which lay at present +in the port of London." + +"Yes?" + +"The 'Lone Star' had arrived here last week. I went down to the +Albert Dock and found that she had been taken down the river by +the early tide this morning, homeward bound to Savannah. I wired +to Gravesend and learned that she had passed some time ago, and +as the wind is easterly I have no doubt that she is now past the +Goodwins and not very far from the Isle of Wight." + +"What will you do, then?" + +"Oh, I have my hand upon him. He and the two mates, are as I +learn, the only native-born Americans in the ship. The others are +Finns and Germans. I know, also, that they were all three away +from the ship last night. I had it from the stevedore who has +been loading their cargo. By the time that their sailing-ship +reaches Savannah the mail-boat will have carried this letter, and +the cable will have informed the police of Savannah that these +three gentlemen are badly wanted here upon a charge of murder." + +There is ever a flaw, however, in the best laid of human plans, +and the murderers of John Openshaw were never to receive the +orange pips which would show them that another, as cunning and as +resolute as themselves, was upon their track. Very long and very +severe were the equinoctial gales that year. We waited long for +news of the "Lone Star" of Savannah, but none ever reached us. We +did at last hear that somewhere far out in the Atlantic a +shattered stern-post of a boat was seen swinging in the trough +of a wave, with the letters "L. S." carved upon it, and that is +all which we shall ever know of the fate of the "Lone Star." + + + +ADVENTURE VI. THE MAN WITH THE TWISTED LIP + +Isa Whitney, brother of the late Elias Whitney, D.D., Principal +of the Theological College of St. George's, was much addicted to +opium. The habit grew upon him, as I understand, from some +foolish freak when he was at college; for having read De +Quincey's description of his dreams and sensations, he had +drenched his tobacco with laudanum in an attempt to produce the +same effects. He found, as so many more have done, that the +practice is easier to attain than to get rid of, and for many +years he continued to be a slave to the drug, an object of +mingled horror and pity to his friends and relatives. I can see +him now, with yellow, pasty face, drooping lids, and pin-point +pupils, all huddled in a chair, the wreck and ruin of a noble +man. + +One night--it was in June, '89--there came a ring to my bell, +about the hour when a man gives his first yawn and glances at the +clock. I sat up in my chair, and my wife laid her needle-work +down in her lap and made a little face of disappointment. + +"A patient!" said she. "You'll have to go out." + +I groaned, for I was newly come back from a weary day. + +We heard the door open, a few hurried words, and then quick steps +upon the linoleum. Our own door flew open, and a lady, clad in +some dark-coloured stuff, with a black veil, entered the room. + +"You will excuse my calling so late," she began, and then, +suddenly losing her self-control, she ran forward, threw her arms +about my wife's neck, and sobbed upon her shoulder. "Oh, I'm in +such trouble!" she cried; "I do so want a little help." + +"Why," said my wife, pulling up her veil, "it is Kate Whitney. +How you startled me, Kate! I had not an idea who you were when +you came in." + +"I didn't know what to do, so I came straight to you." That was +always the way. Folk who were in grief came to my wife like birds +to a light-house. + +"It was very sweet of you to come. Now, you must have some wine +and water, and sit here comfortably and tell us all about it. Or +should you rather that I sent James off to bed?" + +"Oh, no, no! I want the doctor's advice and help, too. It's about +Isa. He has not been home for two days. I am so frightened about +him!" + +It was not the first time that she had spoken to us of her +husband's trouble, to me as a doctor, to my wife as an old friend +and school companion. We soothed and comforted her by such words +as we could find. Did she know where her husband was? Was it +possible that we could bring him back to her? + +It seems that it was. She had the surest information that of late +he had, when the fit was on him, made use of an opium den in the +farthest east of the City. Hitherto his orgies had always been +confined to one day, and he had come back, twitching and +shattered, in the evening. But now the spell had been upon him +eight-and-forty hours, and he lay there, doubtless among the +dregs of the docks, breathing in the poison or sleeping off the +effects. There he was to be found, she was sure of it, at the Bar +of Gold, in Upper Swandam Lane. But what was she to do? How could +she, a young and timid woman, make her way into such a place and +pluck her husband out from among the ruffians who surrounded him? + +There was the case, and of course there was but one way out of +it. Might I not escort her to this place? And then, as a second +thought, why should she come at all? I was Isa Whitney's medical +adviser, and as such I had influence over him. I could manage it +better if I were alone. I promised her on my word that I would +send him home in a cab within two hours if he were indeed at the +address which she had given me. And so in ten minutes I had left +my armchair and cheery sitting-room behind me, and was speeding +eastward in a hansom on a strange errand, as it seemed to me at +the time, though the future only could show how strange it was to +be. + +But there was no great difficulty in the first stage of my +adventure. Upper Swandam Lane is a vile alley lurking behind the +high wharves which line the north side of the river to the east +of London Bridge. Between a slop-shop and a gin-shop, approached +by a steep flight of steps leading down to a black gap like the +mouth of a cave, I found the den of which I was in search. +Ordering my cab to wait, I passed down the steps, worn hollow in +the centre by the ceaseless tread of drunken feet; and by the +light of a flickering oil-lamp above the door I found the latch +and made my way into a long, low room, thick and heavy with the +brown opium smoke, and terraced with wooden berths, like the +forecastle of an emigrant ship. + +Through the gloom one could dimly catch a glimpse of bodies lying +in strange fantastic poses, bowed shoulders, bent knees, heads +thrown back, and chins pointing upward, with here and there a +dark, lack-lustre eye turned upon the newcomer. Out of the black +shadows there glimmered little red circles of light, now bright, +now faint, as the burning poison waxed or waned in the bowls of +the metal pipes. The most lay silent, but some muttered to +themselves, and others talked together in a strange, low, +monotonous voice, their conversation coming in gushes, and then +suddenly tailing off into silence, each mumbling out his own +thoughts and paying little heed to the words of his neighbour. At +the farther end was a small brazier of burning charcoal, beside +which on a three-legged wooden stool there sat a tall, thin old +man, with his jaw resting upon his two fists, and his elbows upon +his knees, staring into the fire. + +As I entered, a sallow Malay attendant had hurried up with a pipe +for me and a supply of the drug, beckoning me to an empty berth. + +"Thank you. I have not come to stay," said I. "There is a friend +of mine here, Mr. Isa Whitney, and I wish to speak with him." + +There was a movement and an exclamation from my right, and +peering through the gloom, I saw Whitney, pale, haggard, and +unkempt, staring out at me. + +"My God! It's Watson," said he. He was in a pitiable state of +reaction, with every nerve in a twitter. "I say, Watson, what +o'clock is it?" + +"Nearly eleven." + +"Of what day?" + +"Of Friday, June 19th." + +"Good heavens! I thought it was Wednesday. It is Wednesday. What +d'you want to frighten a chap for?" He sank his face onto his +arms and began to sob in a high treble key. + +"I tell you that it is Friday, man. Your wife has been waiting +this two days for you. You should be ashamed of yourself!" + +"So I am. But you've got mixed, Watson, for I have only been here +a few hours, three pipes, four pipes--I forget how many. But I'll +go home with you. I wouldn't frighten Kate--poor little Kate. +Give me your hand! Have you a cab?" + +"Yes, I have one waiting." + +"Then I shall go in it. But I must owe something. Find what I +owe, Watson. I am all off colour. I can do nothing for myself." + +I walked down the narrow passage between the double row of +sleepers, holding my breath to keep out the vile, stupefying +fumes of the drug, and looking about for the manager. As I passed +the tall man who sat by the brazier I felt a sudden pluck at my +skirt, and a low voice whispered, "Walk past me, and then look +back at me." The words fell quite distinctly upon my ear. I +glanced down. They could only have come from the old man at my +side, and yet he sat now as absorbed as ever, very thin, very +wrinkled, bent with age, an opium pipe dangling down from between +his knees, as though it had dropped in sheer lassitude from his +fingers. I took two steps forward and looked back. It took all my +self-control to prevent me from breaking out into a cry of +astonishment. He had turned his back so that none could see him +but I. His form had filled out, his wrinkles were gone, the dull +eyes had regained their fire, and there, sitting by the fire and +grinning at my surprise, was none other than Sherlock Holmes. He +made a slight motion to me to approach him, and instantly, as he +turned his face half round to the company once more, subsided +into a doddering, loose-lipped senility. + +"Holmes!" I whispered, "what on earth are you doing in this den?" + +"As low as you can," he answered; "I have excellent ears. If you +would have the great kindness to get rid of that sottish friend +of yours I should be exceedingly glad to have a little talk with +you." + +"I have a cab outside." + +"Then pray send him home in it. You may safely trust him, for he +appears to be too limp to get into any mischief. I should +recommend you also to send a note by the cabman to your wife to +say that you have thrown in your lot with me. If you will wait +outside, I shall be with you in five minutes." + +It was difficult to refuse any of Sherlock Holmes' requests, for +they were always so exceedingly definite, and put forward with +such a quiet air of mastery. I felt, however, that when Whitney +was once confined in the cab my mission was practically +accomplished; and for the rest, I could not wish anything better +than to be associated with my friend in one of those singular +adventures which were the normal condition of his existence. In a +few minutes I had written my note, paid Whitney's bill, led him +out to the cab, and seen him driven through the darkness. In a +very short time a decrepit figure had emerged from the opium den, +and I was walking down the street with Sherlock Holmes. For two +streets he shuffled along with a bent back and an uncertain foot. +Then, glancing quickly round, he straightened himself out and +burst into a hearty fit of laughter. + +"I suppose, Watson," said he, "that you imagine that I have added +opium-smoking to cocaine injections, and all the other little +weaknesses on which you have favoured me with your medical +views." + +"I was certainly surprised to find you there." + +"But not more so than I to find you." + +"I came to find a friend." + +"And I to find an enemy." + +"An enemy?" + +"Yes; one of my natural enemies, or, shall I say, my natural +prey. Briefly, Watson, I am in the midst of a very remarkable +inquiry, and I have hoped to find a clue in the incoherent +ramblings of these sots, as I have done before now. Had I been +recognised in that den my life would not have been worth an +hour's purchase; for I have used it before now for my own +purposes, and the rascally Lascar who runs it has sworn to have +vengeance upon me. There is a trap-door at the back of that +building, near the corner of Paul's Wharf, which could tell some +strange tales of what has passed through it upon the moonless +nights." + +"What! You do not mean bodies?" + +"Ay, bodies, Watson. We should be rich men if we had 1000 pounds +for every poor devil who has been done to death in that den. It +is the vilest murder-trap on the whole riverside, and I fear that +Neville St. Clair has entered it never to leave it more. But our +trap should be here." He put his two forefingers between his +teeth and whistled shrilly--a signal which was answered by a +similar whistle from the distance, followed shortly by the rattle +of wheels and the clink of horses' hoofs. + +"Now, Watson," said Holmes, as a tall dog-cart dashed up through +the gloom, throwing out two golden tunnels of yellow light from +its side lanterns. "You'll come with me, won't you?" + +"If I can be of use." + +"Oh, a trusty comrade is always of use; and a chronicler still +more so. My room at The Cedars is a double-bedded one." + +"The Cedars?" + +"Yes; that is Mr. St. Clair's house. I am staying there while I +conduct the inquiry." + +"Where is it, then?" + +"Near Lee, in Kent. We have a seven-mile drive before us." + +"But I am all in the dark." + +"Of course you are. You'll know all about it presently. Jump up +here. All right, John; we shall not need you. Here's half a +crown. Look out for me to-morrow, about eleven. Give her her +head. So long, then!" + +He flicked the horse with his whip, and we dashed away through +the endless succession of sombre and deserted streets, which +widened gradually, until we were flying across a broad +balustraded bridge, with the murky river flowing sluggishly +beneath us. Beyond lay another dull wilderness of bricks and +mortar, its silence broken only by the heavy, regular footfall of +the policeman, or the songs and shouts of some belated party of +revellers. A dull wrack was drifting slowly across the sky, and a +star or two twinkled dimly here and there through the rifts of +the clouds. Holmes drove in silence, with his head sunk upon his +breast, and the air of a man who is lost in thought, while I sat +beside him, curious to learn what this new quest might be which +seemed to tax his powers so sorely, and yet afraid to break in +upon the current of his thoughts. We had driven several miles, +and were beginning to get to the fringe of the belt of suburban +villas, when he shook himself, shrugged his shoulders, and lit up +his pipe with the air of a man who has satisfied himself that he +is acting for the best. + +"You have a grand gift of silence, Watson," said he. "It makes +you quite invaluable as a companion. 'Pon my word, it is a great +thing for me to have someone to talk to, for my own thoughts are +not over-pleasant. I was wondering what I should say to this dear +little woman to-night when she meets me at the door." + +"You forget that I know nothing about it." + +"I shall just have time to tell you the facts of the case before +we get to Lee. It seems absurdly simple, and yet, somehow I can +get nothing to go upon. There's plenty of thread, no doubt, but I +can't get the end of it into my hand. Now, I'll state the case +clearly and concisely to you, Watson, and maybe you can see a +spark where all is dark to me." + +"Proceed, then." + +"Some years ago--to be definite, in May, 1884--there came to Lee +a gentleman, Neville St. Clair by name, who appeared to have +plenty of money. He took a large villa, laid out the grounds very +nicely, and lived generally in good style. By degrees he made +friends in the neighbourhood, and in 1887 he married the daughter +of a local brewer, by whom he now has two children. He had no +occupation, but was interested in several companies and went into +town as a rule in the morning, returning by the 5:14 from Cannon +Street every night. Mr. St. Clair is now thirty-seven years of +age, is a man of temperate habits, a good husband, a very +affectionate father, and a man who is popular with all who know +him. I may add that his whole debts at the present moment, as far +as we have been able to ascertain, amount to 88 pounds 10s., while +he has 220 pounds standing to his credit in the Capital and +Counties Bank. There is no reason, therefore, to think that money +troubles have been weighing upon his mind. + +"Last Monday Mr. Neville St. Clair went into town rather earlier +than usual, remarking before he started that he had two important +commissions to perform, and that he would bring his little boy +home a box of bricks. Now, by the merest chance, his wife +received a telegram upon this same Monday, very shortly after his +departure, to the effect that a small parcel of considerable +value which she had been expecting was waiting for her at the +offices of the Aberdeen Shipping Company. Now, if you are well up +in your London, you will know that the office of the company is +in Fresno Street, which branches out of Upper Swandam Lane, where +you found me to-night. Mrs. St. Clair had her lunch, started for +the City, did some shopping, proceeded to the company's office, +got her packet, and found herself at exactly 4:35 walking through +Swandam Lane on her way back to the station. Have you followed me +so far?" + +"It is very clear." + +"If you remember, Monday was an exceedingly hot day, and Mrs. St. +Clair walked slowly, glancing about in the hope of seeing a cab, +as she did not like the neighbourhood in which she found herself. +While she was walking in this way down Swandam Lane, she suddenly +heard an ejaculation or cry, and was struck cold to see her +husband looking down at her and, as it seemed to her, beckoning +to her from a second-floor window. The window was open, and she +distinctly saw his face, which she describes as being terribly +agitated. He waved his hands frantically to her, and then +vanished from the window so suddenly that it seemed to her that +he had been plucked back by some irresistible force from behind. +One singular point which struck her quick feminine eye was that +although he wore some dark coat, such as he had started to town +in, he had on neither collar nor necktie. + +"Convinced that something was amiss with him, she rushed down the +steps--for the house was none other than the opium den in which +you found me to-night--and running through the front room she +attempted to ascend the stairs which led to the first floor. At +the foot of the stairs, however, she met this Lascar scoundrel of +whom I have spoken, who thrust her back and, aided by a Dane, who +acts as assistant there, pushed her out into the street. Filled +with the most maddening doubts and fears, she rushed down the +lane and, by rare good-fortune, met in Fresno Street a number of +constables with an inspector, all on their way to their beat. The +inspector and two men accompanied her back, and in spite of the +continued resistance of the proprietor, they made their way to +the room in which Mr. St. Clair had last been seen. There was no +sign of him there. In fact, in the whole of that floor there was +no one to be found save a crippled wretch of hideous aspect, who, +it seems, made his home there. Both he and the Lascar stoutly +swore that no one else had been in the front room during the +afternoon. So determined was their denial that the inspector was +staggered, and had almost come to believe that Mrs. St. Clair had +been deluded when, with a cry, she sprang at a small deal box +which lay upon the table and tore the lid from it. Out there fell +a cascade of children's bricks. It was the toy which he had +promised to bring home. + +"This discovery, and the evident confusion which the cripple +showed, made the inspector realise that the matter was serious. +The rooms were carefully examined, and results all pointed to an +abominable crime. The front room was plainly furnished as a +sitting-room and led into a small bedroom, which looked out upon +the back of one of the wharves. Between the wharf and the bedroom +window is a narrow strip, which is dry at low tide but is covered +at high tide with at least four and a half feet of water. The +bedroom window was a broad one and opened from below. On +examination traces of blood were to be seen upon the windowsill, +and several scattered drops were visible upon the wooden floor of +the bedroom. Thrust away behind a curtain in the front room were +all the clothes of Mr. Neville St. Clair, with the exception of +his coat. His boots, his socks, his hat, and his watch--all were +there. There were no signs of violence upon any of these +garments, and there were no other traces of Mr. Neville St. +Clair. Out of the window he must apparently have gone for no +other exit could be discovered, and the ominous bloodstains upon +the sill gave little promise that he could save himself by +swimming, for the tide was at its very highest at the moment of +the tragedy. + +"And now as to the villains who seemed to be immediately +implicated in the matter. The Lascar was known to be a man of the +vilest antecedents, but as, by Mrs. St. Clair's story, he was +known to have been at the foot of the stair within a very few +seconds of her husband's appearance at the window, he could +hardly have been more than an accessory to the crime. His defence +was one of absolute ignorance, and he protested that he had no +knowledge as to the doings of Hugh Boone, his lodger, and that he +could not account in any way for the presence of the missing +gentleman's clothes. + +"So much for the Lascar manager. Now for the sinister cripple who +lives upon the second floor of the opium den, and who was +certainly the last human being whose eyes rested upon Neville St. +Clair. His name is Hugh Boone, and his hideous face is one which +is familiar to every man who goes much to the City. He is a +professional beggar, though in order to avoid the police +regulations he pretends to a small trade in wax vestas. Some +little distance down Threadneedle Street, upon the left-hand +side, there is, as you may have remarked, a small angle in the +wall. Here it is that this creature takes his daily seat, +cross-legged with his tiny stock of matches on his lap, and as he +is a piteous spectacle a small rain of charity descends into the +greasy leather cap which lies upon the pavement beside him. I +have watched the fellow more than once before ever I thought of +making his professional acquaintance, and I have been surprised +at the harvest which he has reaped in a short time. His +appearance, you see, is so remarkable that no one can pass him +without observing him. A shock of orange hair, a pale face +disfigured by a horrible scar, which, by its contraction, has +turned up the outer edge of his upper lip, a bulldog chin, and a +pair of very penetrating dark eyes, which present a singular +contrast to the colour of his hair, all mark him out from amid +the common crowd of mendicants and so, too, does his wit, for he +is ever ready with a reply to any piece of chaff which may be +thrown at him by the passers-by. This is the man whom we now +learn to have been the lodger at the opium den, and to have been +the last man to see the gentleman of whom we are in quest." + +"But a cripple!" said I. "What could he have done single-handed +against a man in the prime of life?" + +"He is a cripple in the sense that he walks with a limp; but in +other respects he appears to be a powerful and well-nurtured man. +Surely your medical experience would tell you, Watson, that +weakness in one limb is often compensated for by exceptional +strength in the others." + +"Pray continue your narrative." + +"Mrs. St. Clair had fainted at the sight of the blood upon the +window, and she was escorted home in a cab by the police, as her +presence could be of no help to them in their investigations. +Inspector Barton, who had charge of the case, made a very careful +examination of the premises, but without finding anything which +threw any light upon the matter. One mistake had been made in not +arresting Boone instantly, as he was allowed some few minutes +during which he might have communicated with his friend the +Lascar, but this fault was soon remedied, and he was seized and +searched, without anything being found which could incriminate +him. There were, it is true, some blood-stains upon his right +shirt-sleeve, but he pointed to his ring-finger, which had been +cut near the nail, and explained that the bleeding came from +there, adding that he had been to the window not long before, and +that the stains which had been observed there came doubtless from +the same source. He denied strenuously having ever seen Mr. +Neville St. Clair and swore that the presence of the clothes in +his room was as much a mystery to him as to the police. As to +Mrs. St. Clair's assertion that she had actually seen her husband +at the window, he declared that she must have been either mad or +dreaming. He was removed, loudly protesting, to the +police-station, while the inspector remained upon the premises in +the hope that the ebbing tide might afford some fresh clue. + +"And it did, though they hardly found upon the mud-bank what they +had feared to find. It was Neville St. Clair's coat, and not +Neville St. Clair, which lay uncovered as the tide receded. And +what do you think they found in the pockets?" + +"I cannot imagine." + +"No, I don't think you would guess. Every pocket stuffed with +pennies and half-pennies--421 pennies and 270 half-pennies. It +was no wonder that it had not been swept away by the tide. But a +human body is a different matter. There is a fierce eddy between +the wharf and the house. It seemed likely enough that the +weighted coat had remained when the stripped body had been sucked +away into the river." + +"But I understand that all the other clothes were found in the +room. Would the body be dressed in a coat alone?" + +"No, sir, but the facts might be met speciously enough. Suppose +that this man Boone had thrust Neville St. Clair through the +window, there is no human eye which could have seen the deed. +What would he do then? It would of course instantly strike him +that he must get rid of the tell-tale garments. He would seize +the coat, then, and be in the act of throwing it out, when it +would occur to him that it would swim and not sink. He has little +time, for he has heard the scuffle downstairs when the wife tried +to force her way up, and perhaps he has already heard from his +Lascar confederate that the police are hurrying up the street. +There is not an instant to be lost. He rushes to some secret +hoard, where he has accumulated the fruits of his beggary, and he +stuffs all the coins upon which he can lay his hands into the +pockets to make sure of the coat's sinking. He throws it out, and +would have done the same with the other garments had not he heard +the rush of steps below, and only just had time to close the +window when the police appeared." + +"It certainly sounds feasible." + +"Well, we will take it as a working hypothesis for want of a +better. Boone, as I have told you, was arrested and taken to the +station, but it could not be shown that there had ever before +been anything against him. He had for years been known as a +professional beggar, but his life appeared to have been a very +quiet and innocent one. There the matter stands at present, and +the questions which have to be solved--what Neville St. Clair was +doing in the opium den, what happened to him when there, where is +he now, and what Hugh Boone had to do with his disappearance--are +all as far from a solution as ever. I confess that I cannot +recall any case within my experience which looked at the first +glance so simple and yet which presented such difficulties." + +While Sherlock Holmes had been detailing this singular series of +events, we had been whirling through the outskirts of the great +town until the last straggling houses had been left behind, and +we rattled along with a country hedge upon either side of us. +Just as he finished, however, we drove through two scattered +villages, where a few lights still glimmered in the windows. + +"We are on the outskirts of Lee," said my companion. "We have +touched on three English counties in our short drive, starting in +Middlesex, passing over an angle of Surrey, and ending in Kent. +See that light among the trees? That is The Cedars, and beside +that lamp sits a woman whose anxious ears have already, I have +little doubt, caught the clink of our horse's feet." + +"But why are you not conducting the case from Baker Street?" I +asked. + +"Because there are many inquiries which must be made out here. +Mrs. St. Clair has most kindly put two rooms at my disposal, and +you may rest assured that she will have nothing but a welcome for +my friend and colleague. I hate to meet her, Watson, when I have +no news of her husband. Here we are. Whoa, there, whoa!" + +We had pulled up in front of a large villa which stood within its +own grounds. A stable-boy had run out to the horse's head, and +springing down, I followed Holmes up the small, winding +gravel-drive which led to the house. As we approached, the door +flew open, and a little blonde woman stood in the opening, clad +in some sort of light mousseline de soie, with a touch of fluffy +pink chiffon at her neck and wrists. She stood with her figure +outlined against the flood of light, one hand upon the door, one +half-raised in her eagerness, her body slightly bent, her head +and face protruded, with eager eyes and parted lips, a standing +question. + +"Well?" she cried, "well?" And then, seeing that there were two +of us, she gave a cry of hope which sank into a groan as she saw +that my companion shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. + +"No good news?" + +"None." + +"No bad?" + +"No." + +"Thank God for that. But come in. You must be weary, for you have +had a long day." + +"This is my friend, Dr. Watson. He has been of most vital use to +me in several of my cases, and a lucky chance has made it +possible for me to bring him out and associate him with this +investigation." + +"I am delighted to see you," said she, pressing my hand warmly. +"You will, I am sure, forgive anything that may be wanting in our +arrangements, when you consider the blow which has come so +suddenly upon us." + +"My dear madam," said I, "I am an old campaigner, and if I were +not I can very well see that no apology is needed. If I can be of +any assistance, either to you or to my friend here, I shall be +indeed happy." + +"Now, Mr. Sherlock Holmes," said the lady as we entered a +well-lit dining-room, upon the table of which a cold supper had +been laid out, "I should very much like to ask you one or two +plain questions, to which I beg that you will give a plain +answer." + +"Certainly, madam." + +"Do not trouble about my feelings. I am not hysterical, nor given +to fainting. I simply wish to hear your real, real opinion." + +"Upon what point?" + +"In your heart of hearts, do you think that Neville is alive?" + +Sherlock Holmes seemed to be embarrassed by the question. +"Frankly, now!" she repeated, standing upon the rug and looking +keenly down at him as he leaned back in a basket-chair. + +"Frankly, then, madam, I do not." + +"You think that he is dead?" + +"I do." + +"Murdered?" + +"I don't say that. Perhaps." + +"And on what day did he meet his death?" + +"On Monday." + +"Then perhaps, Mr. Holmes, you will be good enough to explain how +it is that I have received a letter from him to-day." + +Sherlock Holmes sprang out of his chair as if he had been +galvanised. + +"What!" he roared. + +"Yes, to-day." She stood smiling, holding up a little slip of +paper in the air. + +"May I see it?" + +"Certainly." + +He snatched it from her in his eagerness, and smoothing it out +upon the table he drew over the lamp and examined it intently. I +had left my chair and was gazing at it over his shoulder. The +envelope was a very coarse one and was stamped with the Gravesend +postmark and with the date of that very day, or rather of the day +before, for it was considerably after midnight. + +"Coarse writing," murmured Holmes. "Surely this is not your +husband's writing, madam." + +"No, but the enclosure is." + +"I perceive also that whoever addressed the envelope had to go +and inquire as to the address." + +"How can you tell that?" + +"The name, you see, is in perfectly black ink, which has dried +itself. The rest is of the greyish colour, which shows that +blotting-paper has been used. If it had been written straight +off, and then blotted, none would be of a deep black shade. This +man has written the name, and there has then been a pause before +he wrote the address, which can only mean that he was not +familiar with it. It is, of course, a trifle, but there is +nothing so important as trifles. Let us now see the letter. Ha! +there has been an enclosure here!" + +"Yes, there was a ring. His signet-ring." + +"And you are sure that this is your husband's hand?" + +"One of his hands." + +"One?" + +"His hand when he wrote hurriedly. It is very unlike his usual +writing, and yet I know it well." + +"'Dearest do not be frightened. All will come well. There is a +huge error which it may take some little time to rectify. +Wait in patience.--NEVILLE.' Written in pencil upon the fly-leaf +of a book, octavo size, no water-mark. Hum! Posted to-day in +Gravesend by a man with a dirty thumb. Ha! And the flap has been +gummed, if I am not very much in error, by a person who had been +chewing tobacco. And you have no doubt that it is your husband's +hand, madam?" + +"None. Neville wrote those words." + +"And they were posted to-day at Gravesend. Well, Mrs. St. Clair, +the clouds lighten, though I should not venture to say that the +danger is over." + +"But he must be alive, Mr. Holmes." + +"Unless this is a clever forgery to put us on the wrong scent. +The ring, after all, proves nothing. It may have been taken from +him." + +"No, no; it is, it is his very own writing!" + +"Very well. It may, however, have been written on Monday and only +posted to-day." + +"That is possible." + +"If so, much may have happened between." + +"Oh, you must not discourage me, Mr. Holmes. I know that all is +well with him. There is so keen a sympathy between us that I +should know if evil came upon him. On the very day that I saw him +last he cut himself in the bedroom, and yet I in the dining-room +rushed upstairs instantly with the utmost certainty that +something had happened. Do you think that I would respond to such +a trifle and yet be ignorant of his death?" + +"I have seen too much not to know that the impression of a woman +may be more valuable than the conclusion of an analytical +reasoner. And in this letter you certainly have a very strong +piece of evidence to corroborate your view. But if your husband +is alive and able to write letters, why should he remain away +from you?" + +"I cannot imagine. It is unthinkable." + +"And on Monday he made no remarks before leaving you?" + +"No." + +"And you were surprised to see him in Swandam Lane?" + +"Very much so." + +"Was the window open?" + +"Yes." + +"Then he might have called to you?" + +"He might." + +"He only, as I understand, gave an inarticulate cry?" + +"Yes." + +"A call for help, you thought?" + +"Yes. He waved his hands." + +"But it might have been a cry of surprise. Astonishment at the +unexpected sight of you might cause him to throw up his hands?" + +"It is possible." + +"And you thought he was pulled back?" + +"He disappeared so suddenly." + +"He might have leaped back. You did not see anyone else in the +room?" + +"No, but this horrible man confessed to having been there, and +the Lascar was at the foot of the stairs." + +"Quite so. Your husband, as far as you could see, had his +ordinary clothes on?" + +"But without his collar or tie. I distinctly saw his bare +throat." + +"Had he ever spoken of Swandam Lane?" + +"Never." + +"Had he ever showed any signs of having taken opium?" + +"Never." + +"Thank you, Mrs. St. Clair. Those are the principal points about +which I wished to be absolutely clear. We shall now have a little +supper and then retire, for we may have a very busy day +to-morrow." + +A large and comfortable double-bedded room had been placed at our +disposal, and I was quickly between the sheets, for I was weary +after my night of adventure. Sherlock Holmes was a man, however, +who, when he had an unsolved problem upon his mind, would go for +days, and even for a week, without rest, turning it over, +rearranging his facts, looking at it from every point of view +until he had either fathomed it or convinced himself that his +data were insufficient. It was soon evident to me that he was now +preparing for an all-night sitting. He took off his coat and +waistcoat, put on a large blue dressing-gown, and then wandered +about the room collecting pillows from his bed and cushions from +the sofa and armchairs. With these he constructed a sort of +Eastern divan, upon which he perched himself cross-legged, with +an ounce of shag tobacco and a box of matches laid out in front +of him. In the dim light of the lamp I saw him sitting there, an +old briar pipe between his lips, his eyes fixed vacantly upon the +corner of the ceiling, the blue smoke curling up from him, +silent, motionless, with the light shining upon his strong-set +aquiline features. So he sat as I dropped off to sleep, and so he +sat when a sudden ejaculation caused me to wake up, and I found +the summer sun shining into the apartment. The pipe was still +between his lips, the smoke still curled upward, and the room was +full of a dense tobacco haze, but nothing remained of the heap of +shag which I had seen upon the previous night. + +"Awake, Watson?" he asked. + +"Yes." + +"Game for a morning drive?" + +"Certainly." + +"Then dress. No one is stirring yet, but I know where the +stable-boy sleeps, and we shall soon have the trap out." He +chuckled to himself as he spoke, his eyes twinkled, and he seemed +a different man to the sombre thinker of the previous night. + +As I dressed I glanced at my watch. It was no wonder that no one +was stirring. It was twenty-five minutes past four. I had hardly +finished when Holmes returned with the news that the boy was +putting in the horse. + +"I want to test a little theory of mine," said he, pulling on his +boots. "I think, Watson, that you are now standing in the +presence of one of the most absolute fools in Europe. I deserve +to be kicked from here to Charing Cross. But I think I have the +key of the affair now." + +"And where is it?" I asked, smiling. + +"In the bathroom," he answered. "Oh, yes, I am not joking," he +continued, seeing my look of incredulity. "I have just been +there, and I have taken it out, and I have got it in this +Gladstone bag. Come on, my boy, and we shall see whether it will +not fit the lock." + +We made our way downstairs as quietly as possible, and out into +the bright morning sunshine. In the road stood our horse and +trap, with the half-clad stable-boy waiting at the head. We both +sprang in, and away we dashed down the London Road. A few country +carts were stirring, bearing in vegetables to the metropolis, but +the lines of villas on either side were as silent and lifeless as +some city in a dream. + +"It has been in some points a singular case," said Holmes, +flicking the horse on into a gallop. "I confess that I have been +as blind as a mole, but it is better to learn wisdom late than +never to learn it at all." + +In town the earliest risers were just beginning to look sleepily +from their windows as we drove through the streets of the Surrey +side. Passing down the Waterloo Bridge Road we crossed over the +river, and dashing up Wellington Street wheeled sharply to the +right and found ourselves in Bow Street. Sherlock Holmes was well +known to the force, and the two constables at the door saluted +him. One of them held the horse's head while the other led us in. + +"Who is on duty?" asked Holmes. + +"Inspector Bradstreet, sir." + +"Ah, Bradstreet, how are you?" A tall, stout official had come +down the stone-flagged passage, in a peaked cap and frogged +jacket. "I wish to have a quiet word with you, Bradstreet." +"Certainly, Mr. Holmes. Step into my room here." It was a small, +office-like room, with a huge ledger upon the table, and a +telephone projecting from the wall. The inspector sat down at his +desk. + +"What can I do for you, Mr. Holmes?" + +"I called about that beggarman, Boone--the one who was charged +with being concerned in the disappearance of Mr. Neville St. +Clair, of Lee." + +"Yes. He was brought up and remanded for further inquiries." + +"So I heard. You have him here?" + +"In the cells." + +"Is he quiet?" + +"Oh, he gives no trouble. But he is a dirty scoundrel." + +"Dirty?" + +"Yes, it is all we can do to make him wash his hands, and his +face is as black as a tinker's. Well, when once his case has been +settled, he will have a regular prison bath; and I think, if you +saw him, you would agree with me that he needed it." + +"I should like to see him very much." + +"Would you? That is easily done. Come this way. You can leave +your bag." + +"No, I think that I'll take it." + +"Very good. Come this way, if you please." He led us down a +passage, opened a barred door, passed down a winding stair, and +brought us to a whitewashed corridor with a line of doors on each +side. + +"The third on the right is his," said the inspector. "Here it +is!" He quietly shot back a panel in the upper part of the door +and glanced through. + +"He is asleep," said he. "You can see him very well." + +We both put our eyes to the grating. The prisoner lay with his +face towards us, in a very deep sleep, breathing slowly and +heavily. He was a middle-sized man, coarsely clad as became his +calling, with a coloured shirt protruding through the rent in his +tattered coat. He was, as the inspector had said, extremely +dirty, but the grime which covered his face could not conceal its +repulsive ugliness. A broad wheal from an old scar ran right +across it from eye to chin, and by its contraction had turned up +one side of the upper lip, so that three teeth were exposed in a +perpetual snarl. A shock of very bright red hair grew low over +his eyes and forehead. + +"He's a beauty, isn't he?" said the inspector. + +"He certainly needs a wash," remarked Holmes. "I had an idea that +he might, and I took the liberty of bringing the tools with me." +He opened the Gladstone bag as he spoke, and took out, to my +astonishment, a very large bath-sponge. + +"He! he! You are a funny one," chuckled the inspector. + +"Now, if you will have the great goodness to open that door very +quietly, we will soon make him cut a much more respectable +figure." + +"Well, I don't know why not," said the inspector. "He doesn't +look a credit to the Bow Street cells, does he?" He slipped his +key into the lock, and we all very quietly entered the cell. The +sleeper half turned, and then settled down once more into a deep +slumber. Holmes stooped to the water-jug, moistened his sponge, +and then rubbed it twice vigorously across and down the +prisoner's face. + +"Let me introduce you," he shouted, "to Mr. Neville St. Clair, of +Lee, in the county of Kent." + +Never in my life have I seen such a sight. The man's face peeled +off under the sponge like the bark from a tree. Gone was the +coarse brown tint! Gone, too, was the horrid scar which had +seamed it across, and the twisted lip which had given the +repulsive sneer to the face! A twitch brought away the tangled +red hair, and there, sitting up in his bed, was a pale, +sad-faced, refined-looking man, black-haired and smooth-skinned, +rubbing his eyes and staring about him with sleepy bewilderment. +Then suddenly realising the exposure, he broke into a scream and +threw himself down with his face to the pillow. + +"Great heavens!" cried the inspector, "it is, indeed, the missing +man. I know him from the photograph." + +The prisoner turned with the reckless air of a man who abandons +himself to his destiny. "Be it so," said he. "And pray what am I +charged with?" + +"With making away with Mr. Neville St.-- Oh, come, you can't be +charged with that unless they make a case of attempted suicide of +it," said the inspector with a grin. "Well, I have been +twenty-seven years in the force, but this really takes the cake." + +"If I am Mr. Neville St. Clair, then it is obvious that no crime +has been committed, and that, therefore, I am illegally +detained." + +"No crime, but a very great error has been committed," said +Holmes. "You would have done better to have trusted your wife." + +"It was not the wife; it was the children," groaned the prisoner. +"God help me, I would not have them ashamed of their father. My +God! What an exposure! What can I do?" + +Sherlock Holmes sat down beside him on the couch and patted him +kindly on the shoulder. + +"If you leave it to a court of law to clear the matter up," said +he, "of course you can hardly avoid publicity. On the other hand, +if you convince the police authorities that there is no possible +case against you, I do not know that there is any reason that the +details should find their way into the papers. Inspector +Bradstreet would, I am sure, make notes upon anything which you +might tell us and submit it to the proper authorities. The case +would then never go into court at all." + +"God bless you!" cried the prisoner passionately. "I would have +endured imprisonment, ay, even execution, rather than have left +my miserable secret as a family blot to my children. + +"You are the first who have ever heard my story. My father was a +schoolmaster in Chesterfield, where I received an excellent +education. I travelled in my youth, took to the stage, and +finally became a reporter on an evening paper in London. One day +my editor wished to have a series of articles upon begging in the +metropolis, and I volunteered to supply them. There was the point +from which all my adventures started. It was only by trying +begging as an amateur that I could get the facts upon which to +base my articles. When an actor I had, of course, learned all the +secrets of making up, and had been famous in the green-room for +my skill. I took advantage now of my attainments. I painted my +face, and to make myself as pitiable as possible I made a good +scar and fixed one side of my lip in a twist by the aid of a +small slip of flesh-coloured plaster. Then with a red head of +hair, and an appropriate dress, I took my station in the business +part of the city, ostensibly as a match-seller but really as a +beggar. For seven hours I plied my trade, and when I returned +home in the evening I found to my surprise that I had received no +less than 26s. 4d. + +"I wrote my articles and thought little more of the matter until, +some time later, I backed a bill for a friend and had a writ +served upon me for 25 pounds. I was at my wit's end where to get +the money, but a sudden idea came to me. I begged a fortnight's +grace from the creditor, asked for a holiday from my employers, +and spent the time in begging in the City under my disguise. In +ten days I had the money and had paid the debt. + +"Well, you can imagine how hard it was to settle down to arduous +work at 2 pounds a week when I knew that I could earn as much in +a day by smearing my face with a little paint, laying my cap on +the ground, and sitting still. It was a long fight between my +pride and the money, but the dollars won at last, and I threw up +reporting and sat day after day in the corner which I had first +chosen, inspiring pity by my ghastly face and filling my pockets +with coppers. Only one man knew my secret. He was the keeper of a +low den in which I used to lodge in Swandam Lane, where I could +every morning emerge as a squalid beggar and in the evenings +transform myself into a well-dressed man about town. This fellow, +a Lascar, was well paid by me for his rooms, so that I knew that +my secret was safe in his possession. + +"Well, very soon I found that I was saving considerable sums of +money. I do not mean that any beggar in the streets of London +could earn 700 pounds a year--which is less than my average +takings--but I had exceptional advantages in my power of making +up, and also in a facility of repartee, which improved by +practice and made me quite a recognised character in the City. +All day a stream of pennies, varied by silver, poured in upon me, +and it was a very bad day in which I failed to take 2 pounds. + +"As I grew richer I grew more ambitious, took a house in the +country, and eventually married, without anyone having a +suspicion as to my real occupation. My dear wife knew that I had +business in the City. She little knew what. + +"Last Monday I had finished for the day and was dressing in my +room above the opium den when I looked out of my window and saw, +to my horror and astonishment, that my wife was standing in the +street, with her eyes fixed full upon me. I gave a cry of +surprise, threw up my arms to cover my face, and, rushing to my +confidant, the Lascar, entreated him to prevent anyone from +coming up to me. I heard her voice downstairs, but I knew that +she could not ascend. Swiftly I threw off my clothes, pulled on +those of a beggar, and put on my pigments and wig. Even a wife's +eyes could not pierce so complete a disguise. But then it +occurred to me that there might be a search in the room, and that +the clothes might betray me. I threw open the window, reopening +by my violence a small cut which I had inflicted upon myself in +the bedroom that morning. Then I seized my coat, which was +weighted by the coppers which I had just transferred to it from +the leather bag in which I carried my takings. I hurled it out of +the window, and it disappeared into the Thames. The other clothes +would have followed, but at that moment there was a rush of +constables up the stair, and a few minutes after I found, rather, +I confess, to my relief, that instead of being identified as Mr. +Neville St. Clair, I was arrested as his murderer. + +"I do not know that there is anything else for me to explain. I +was determined to preserve my disguise as long as possible, and +hence my preference for a dirty face. Knowing that my wife would +be terribly anxious, I slipped off my ring and confided it to the +Lascar at a moment when no constable was watching me, together +with a hurried scrawl, telling her that she had no cause to +fear." + +"That note only reached her yesterday," said Holmes. + +"Good God! What a week she must have spent!" + +"The police have watched this Lascar," said Inspector Bradstreet, +"and I can quite understand that he might find it difficult to +post a letter unobserved. Probably he handed it to some sailor +customer of his, who forgot all about it for some days." + +"That was it," said Holmes, nodding approvingly; "I have no doubt +of it. But have you never been prosecuted for begging?" + +"Many times; but what was a fine to me?" + +"It must stop here, however," said Bradstreet. "If the police are +to hush this thing up, there must be no more of Hugh Boone." + +"I have sworn it by the most solemn oaths which a man can take." + +"In that case I think that it is probable that no further steps +may be taken. But if you are found again, then all must come out. +I am sure, Mr. Holmes, that we are very much indebted to you for +having cleared the matter up. I wish I knew how you reach your +results." + +"I reached this one," said my friend, "by sitting upon five +pillows and consuming an ounce of shag. I think, Watson, that if +we drive to Baker Street we shall just be in time for breakfast." + + + +VII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE BLUE CARBUNCLE + +I had called upon my friend Sherlock Holmes upon the second +morning after Christmas, with the intention of wishing him the +compliments of the season. He was lounging upon the sofa in a +purple dressing-gown, a pipe-rack within his reach upon the +right, and a pile of crumpled morning papers, evidently newly +studied, near at hand. Beside the couch was a wooden chair, and +on the angle of the back hung a very seedy and disreputable +hard-felt hat, much the worse for wear, and cracked in several +places. A lens and a forceps lying upon the seat of the chair +suggested that the hat had been suspended in this manner for the +purpose of examination. + +"You are engaged," said I; "perhaps I interrupt you." + +"Not at all. I am glad to have a friend with whom I can discuss +my results. The matter is a perfectly trivial one"--he jerked his +thumb in the direction of the old hat--"but there are points in +connection with it which are not entirely devoid of interest and +even of instruction." + +I seated myself in his armchair and warmed my hands before his +crackling fire, for a sharp frost had set in, and the windows +were thick with the ice crystals. "I suppose," I remarked, "that, +homely as it looks, this thing has some deadly story linked on to +it--that it is the clue which will guide you in the solution of +some mystery and the punishment of some crime." + +"No, no. No crime," said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. "Only one of +those whimsical little incidents which will happen when you have +four million human beings all jostling each other within the +space of a few square miles. Amid the action and reaction of so +dense a swarm of humanity, every possible combination of events +may be expected to take place, and many a little problem will be +presented which may be striking and bizarre without being +criminal. We have already had experience of such." + +"So much so," I remarked, "that of the last six cases which I +have added to my notes, three have been entirely free of any +legal crime." + +"Precisely. You allude to my attempt to recover the Irene Adler +papers, to the singular case of Miss Mary Sutherland, and to the +adventure of the man with the twisted lip. Well, I have no doubt +that this small matter will fall into the same innocent category. +You know Peterson, the commissionaire?" + +"Yes." + +"It is to him that this trophy belongs." + +"It is his hat." + +"No, no, he found it. Its owner is unknown. I beg that you will +look upon it not as a battered billycock but as an intellectual +problem. And, first, as to how it came here. It arrived upon +Christmas morning, in company with a good fat goose, which is, I +have no doubt, roasting at this moment in front of Peterson's +fire. The facts are these: about four o'clock on Christmas +morning, Peterson, who, as you know, is a very honest fellow, was +returning from some small jollification and was making his way +homeward down Tottenham Court Road. In front of him he saw, in +the gaslight, a tallish man, walking with a slight stagger, and +carrying a white goose slung over his shoulder. As he reached the +corner of Goodge Street, a row broke out between this stranger +and a little knot of roughs. One of the latter knocked off the +man's hat, on which he raised his stick to defend himself and, +swinging it over his head, smashed the shop window behind him. +Peterson had rushed forward to protect the stranger from his +assailants; but the man, shocked at having broken the window, and +seeing an official-looking person in uniform rushing towards him, +dropped his goose, took to his heels, and vanished amid the +labyrinth of small streets which lie at the back of Tottenham +Court Road. The roughs had also fled at the appearance of +Peterson, so that he was left in possession of the field of +battle, and also of the spoils of victory in the shape of this +battered hat and a most unimpeachable Christmas goose." + +"Which surely he restored to their owner?" + +"My dear fellow, there lies the problem. It is true that 'For +Mrs. Henry Baker' was printed upon a small card which was tied to +the bird's left leg, and it is also true that the initials 'H. +B.' are legible upon the lining of this hat, but as there are +some thousands of Bakers, and some hundreds of Henry Bakers in +this city of ours, it is not easy to restore lost property to any +one of them." + +"What, then, did Peterson do?" + +"He brought round both hat and goose to me on Christmas morning, +knowing that even the smallest problems are of interest to me. +The goose we retained until this morning, when there were signs +that, in spite of the slight frost, it would be well that it +should be eaten without unnecessary delay. Its finder has carried +it off, therefore, to fulfil the ultimate destiny of a goose, +while I continue to retain the hat of the unknown gentleman who +lost his Christmas dinner." + +"Did he not advertise?" + +"No." + +"Then, what clue could you have as to his identity?" + +"Only as much as we can deduce." + +"From his hat?" + +"Precisely." + +"But you are joking. What can you gather from this old battered +felt?" + +"Here is my lens. You know my methods. What can you gather +yourself as to the individuality of the man who has worn this +article?" + +I took the tattered object in my hands and turned it over rather +ruefully. It was a very ordinary black hat of the usual round +shape, hard and much the worse for wear. The lining had been of +red silk, but was a good deal discoloured. There was no maker's +name; but, as Holmes had remarked, the initials "H. B." were +scrawled upon one side. It was pierced in the brim for a +hat-securer, but the elastic was missing. For the rest, it was +cracked, exceedingly dusty, and spotted in several places, +although there seemed to have been some attempt to hide the +discoloured patches by smearing them with ink. + +"I can see nothing," said I, handing it back to my friend. + +"On the contrary, Watson, you can see everything. You fail, +however, to reason from what you see. You are too timid in +drawing your inferences." + +"Then, pray tell me what it is that you can infer from this hat?" + +He picked it up and gazed at it in the peculiar introspective +fashion which was characteristic of him. "It is perhaps less +suggestive than it might have been," he remarked, "and yet there +are a few inferences which are very distinct, and a few others +which represent at least a strong balance of probability. That +the man was highly intellectual is of course obvious upon the +face of it, and also that he was fairly well-to-do within the +last three years, although he has now fallen upon evil days. He +had foresight, but has less now than formerly, pointing to a +moral retrogression, which, when taken with the decline of his +fortunes, seems to indicate some evil influence, probably drink, +at work upon him. This may account also for the obvious fact that +his wife has ceased to love him." + +"My dear Holmes!" + +"He has, however, retained some degree of self-respect," he +continued, disregarding my remonstrance. "He is a man who leads a +sedentary life, goes out little, is out of training entirely, is +middle-aged, has grizzled hair which he has had cut within the +last few days, and which he anoints with lime-cream. These are +the more patent facts which are to be deduced from his hat. Also, +by the way, that it is extremely improbable that he has gas laid +on in his house." + +"You are certainly joking, Holmes." + +"Not in the least. Is it possible that even now, when I give you +these results, you are unable to see how they are attained?" + +"I have no doubt that I am very stupid, but I must confess that I +am unable to follow you. For example, how did you deduce that +this man was intellectual?" + +For answer Holmes clapped the hat upon his head. It came right +over the forehead and settled upon the bridge of his nose. "It is +a question of cubic capacity," said he; "a man with so large a +brain must have something in it." + +"The decline of his fortunes, then?" + +"This hat is three years old. These flat brims curled at the edge +came in then. It is a hat of the very best quality. Look at the +band of ribbed silk and the excellent lining. If this man could +afford to buy so expensive a hat three years ago, and has had no +hat since, then he has assuredly gone down in the world." + +"Well, that is clear enough, certainly. But how about the +foresight and the moral retrogression?" + +Sherlock Holmes laughed. "Here is the foresight," said he putting +his finger upon the little disc and loop of the hat-securer. +"They are never sold upon hats. If this man ordered one, it is a +sign of a certain amount of foresight, since he went out of his +way to take this precaution against the wind. But since we see +that he has broken the elastic and has not troubled to replace +it, it is obvious that he has less foresight now than formerly, +which is a distinct proof of a weakening nature. On the other +hand, he has endeavoured to conceal some of these stains upon the +felt by daubing them with ink, which is a sign that he has not +entirely lost his self-respect." + +"Your reasoning is certainly plausible." + +"The further points, that he is middle-aged, that his hair is +grizzled, that it has been recently cut, and that he uses +lime-cream, are all to be gathered from a close examination of the +lower part of the lining. The lens discloses a large number of +hair-ends, clean cut by the scissors of the barber. They all +appear to be adhesive, and there is a distinct odour of +lime-cream. This dust, you will observe, is not the gritty, grey +dust of the street but the fluffy brown dust of the house, +showing that it has been hung up indoors most of the time, while +the marks of moisture upon the inside are proof positive that the +wearer perspired very freely, and could therefore, hardly be in +the best of training." + +"But his wife--you said that she had ceased to love him." + +"This hat has not been brushed for weeks. When I see you, my dear +Watson, with a week's accumulation of dust upon your hat, and +when your wife allows you to go out in such a state, I shall fear +that you also have been unfortunate enough to lose your wife's +affection." + +"But he might be a bachelor." + +"Nay, he was bringing home the goose as a peace-offering to his +wife. Remember the card upon the bird's leg." + +"You have an answer to everything. But how on earth do you deduce +that the gas is not laid on in his house?" + +"One tallow stain, or even two, might come by chance; but when I +see no less than five, I think that there can be little doubt +that the individual must be brought into frequent contact with +burning tallow--walks upstairs at night probably with his hat in +one hand and a guttering candle in the other. Anyhow, he never +got tallow-stains from a gas-jet. Are you satisfied?" + +"Well, it is very ingenious," said I, laughing; "but since, as +you said just now, there has been no crime committed, and no harm +done save the loss of a goose, all this seems to be rather a +waste of energy." + +Sherlock Holmes had opened his mouth to reply, when the door flew +open, and Peterson, the commissionaire, rushed into the apartment +with flushed cheeks and the face of a man who is dazed with +astonishment. + +"The goose, Mr. Holmes! The goose, sir!" he gasped. + +"Eh? What of it, then? Has it returned to life and flapped off +through the kitchen window?" Holmes twisted himself round upon +the sofa to get a fairer view of the man's excited face. + +"See here, sir! See what my wife found in its crop!" He held out +his hand and displayed upon the centre of the palm a brilliantly +scintillating blue stone, rather smaller than a bean in size, but +of such purity and radiance that it twinkled like an electric +point in the dark hollow of his hand. + +Sherlock Holmes sat up with a whistle. "By Jove, Peterson!" said +he, "this is treasure trove indeed. I suppose you know what you +have got?" + +"A diamond, sir? A precious stone. It cuts into glass as though +it were putty." + +"It's more than a precious stone. It is the precious stone." + +"Not the Countess of Morcar's blue carbuncle!" I ejaculated. + +"Precisely so. I ought to know its size and shape, seeing that I +have read the advertisement about it in The Times every day +lately. It is absolutely unique, and its value can only be +conjectured, but the reward offered of 1000 pounds is certainly +not within a twentieth part of the market price." + +"A thousand pounds! Great Lord of mercy!" The commissionaire +plumped down into a chair and stared from one to the other of us. + +"That is the reward, and I have reason to know that there are +sentimental considerations in the background which would induce +the Countess to part with half her fortune if she could but +recover the gem." + +"It was lost, if I remember aright, at the Hotel Cosmopolitan," I +remarked. + +"Precisely so, on December 22nd, just five days ago. John Horner, +a plumber, was accused of having abstracted it from the lady's +jewel-case. The evidence against him was so strong that the case +has been referred to the Assizes. I have some account of the +matter here, I believe." He rummaged amid his newspapers, +glancing over the dates, until at last he smoothed one out, +doubled it over, and read the following paragraph: + +"Hotel Cosmopolitan Jewel Robbery. John Horner, 26, plumber, was +brought up upon the charge of having upon the 22nd inst., +abstracted from the jewel-case of the Countess of Morcar the +valuable gem known as the blue carbuncle. James Ryder, +upper-attendant at the hotel, gave his evidence to the effect +that he had shown Horner up to the dressing-room of the Countess +of Morcar upon the day of the robbery in order that he might +solder the second bar of the grate, which was loose. He had +remained with Horner some little time, but had finally been +called away. On returning, he found that Horner had disappeared, +that the bureau had been forced open, and that the small morocco +casket in which, as it afterwards transpired, the Countess was +accustomed to keep her jewel, was lying empty upon the +dressing-table. Ryder instantly gave the alarm, and Horner was +arrested the same evening; but the stone could not be found +either upon his person or in his rooms. Catherine Cusack, maid to +the Countess, deposed to having heard Ryder's cry of dismay on +discovering the robbery, and to having rushed into the room, +where she found matters as described by the last witness. +Inspector Bradstreet, B division, gave evidence as to the arrest +of Horner, who struggled frantically, and protested his innocence +in the strongest terms. Evidence of a previous conviction for +robbery having been given against the prisoner, the magistrate +refused to deal summarily with the offence, but referred it to +the Assizes. Horner, who had shown signs of intense emotion +during the proceedings, fainted away at the conclusion and was +carried out of court." + +"Hum! So much for the police-court," said Holmes thoughtfully, +tossing aside the paper. "The question for us now to solve is the +sequence of events leading from a rifled jewel-case at one end to +the crop of a goose in Tottenham Court Road at the other. You +see, Watson, our little deductions have suddenly assumed a much +more important and less innocent aspect. Here is the stone; the +stone came from the goose, and the goose came from Mr. Henry +Baker, the gentleman with the bad hat and all the other +characteristics with which I have bored you. So now we must set +ourselves very seriously to finding this gentleman and +ascertaining what part he has played in this little mystery. To +do this, we must try the simplest means first, and these lie +undoubtedly in an advertisement in all the evening papers. If +this fail, I shall have recourse to other methods." + +"What will you say?" + +"Give me a pencil and that slip of paper. Now, then: 'Found at +the corner of Goodge Street, a goose and a black felt hat. Mr. +Henry Baker can have the same by applying at 6:30 this evening at +221B, Baker Street.' That is clear and concise." + +"Very. But will he see it?" + +"Well, he is sure to keep an eye on the papers, since, to a poor +man, the loss was a heavy one. He was clearly so scared by his +mischance in breaking the window and by the approach of Peterson +that he thought of nothing but flight, but since then he must +have bitterly regretted the impulse which caused him to drop his +bird. Then, again, the introduction of his name will cause him to +see it, for everyone who knows him will direct his attention to +it. Here you are, Peterson, run down to the advertising agency +and have this put in the evening papers." + +"In which, sir?" + +"Oh, in the Globe, Star, Pall Mall, St. James's, Evening News, +Standard, Echo, and any others that occur to you." + +"Very well, sir. And this stone?" + +"Ah, yes, I shall keep the stone. Thank you. And, I say, +Peterson, just buy a goose on your way back and leave it here +with me, for we must have one to give to this gentleman in place +of the one which your family is now devouring." + +When the commissionaire had gone, Holmes took up the stone and +held it against the light. "It's a bonny thing," said he. "Just +see how it glints and sparkles. Of course it is a nucleus and +focus of crime. Every good stone is. They are the devil's pet +baits. In the larger and older jewels every facet may stand for a +bloody deed. This stone is not yet twenty years old. It was found +in the banks of the Amoy River in southern China and is remarkable +in having every characteristic of the carbuncle, save that it is +blue in shade instead of ruby red. In spite of its youth, it has +already a sinister history. There have been two murders, a +vitriol-throwing, a suicide, and several robberies brought about +for the sake of this forty-grain weight of crystallised charcoal. +Who would think that so pretty a toy would be a purveyor to the +gallows and the prison? I'll lock it up in my strong box now and +drop a line to the Countess to say that we have it." + +"Do you think that this man Horner is innocent?" + +"I cannot tell." + +"Well, then, do you imagine that this other one, Henry Baker, had +anything to do with the matter?" + +"It is, I think, much more likely that Henry Baker is an +absolutely innocent man, who had no idea that the bird which he +was carrying was of considerably more value than if it were made +of solid gold. That, however, I shall determine by a very simple +test if we have an answer to our advertisement." + +"And you can do nothing until then?" + +"Nothing." + +"In that case I shall continue my professional round. But I shall +come back in the evening at the hour you have mentioned, for I +should like to see the solution of so tangled a business." + +"Very glad to see you. I dine at seven. There is a woodcock, I +believe. By the way, in view of recent occurrences, perhaps I +ought to ask Mrs. Hudson to examine its crop." + +I had been delayed at a case, and it was a little after half-past +six when I found myself in Baker Street once more. As I +approached the house I saw a tall man in a Scotch bonnet with a +coat which was buttoned up to his chin waiting outside in the +bright semicircle which was thrown from the fanlight. Just as I +arrived the door was opened, and we were shown up together to +Holmes' room. + +"Mr. Henry Baker, I believe," said he, rising from his armchair +and greeting his visitor with the easy air of geniality which he +could so readily assume. "Pray take this chair by the fire, Mr. +Baker. It is a cold night, and I observe that your circulation is +more adapted for summer than for winter. Ah, Watson, you have +just come at the right time. Is that your hat, Mr. Baker?" + +"Yes, sir, that is undoubtedly my hat." + +He was a large man with rounded shoulders, a massive head, and a +broad, intelligent face, sloping down to a pointed beard of +grizzled brown. A touch of red in nose and cheeks, with a slight +tremor of his extended hand, recalled Holmes' surmise as to his +habits. His rusty black frock-coat was buttoned right up in +front, with the collar turned up, and his lank wrists protruded +from his sleeves without a sign of cuff or shirt. He spoke in a +slow staccato fashion, choosing his words with care, and gave the +impression generally of a man of learning and letters who had had +ill-usage at the hands of fortune. + +"We have retained these things for some days," said Holmes, +"because we expected to see an advertisement from you giving your +address. I am at a loss to know now why you did not advertise." + +Our visitor gave a rather shamefaced laugh. "Shillings have not +been so plentiful with me as they once were," he remarked. "I had +no doubt that the gang of roughs who assaulted me had carried off +both my hat and the bird. I did not care to spend more money in a +hopeless attempt at recovering them." + +"Very naturally. By the way, about the bird, we were compelled to +eat it." + +"To eat it!" Our visitor half rose from his chair in his +excitement. + +"Yes, it would have been of no use to anyone had we not done so. +But I presume that this other goose upon the sideboard, which is +about the same weight and perfectly fresh, will answer your +purpose equally well?" + +"Oh, certainly, certainly," answered Mr. Baker with a sigh of +relief. + +"Of course, we still have the feathers, legs, crop, and so on of +your own bird, so if you wish--" + +The man burst into a hearty laugh. "They might be useful to me as +relics of my adventure," said he, "but beyond that I can hardly +see what use the disjecta membra of my late acquaintance are +going to be to me. No, sir, I think that, with your permission, I +will confine my attentions to the excellent bird which I perceive +upon the sideboard." + +Sherlock Holmes glanced sharply across at me with a slight shrug +of his shoulders. + +"There is your hat, then, and there your bird," said he. "By the +way, would it bore you to tell me where you got the other one +from? I am somewhat of a fowl fancier, and I have seldom seen a +better grown goose." + +"Certainly, sir," said Baker, who had risen and tucked his newly +gained property under his arm. "There are a few of us who +frequent the Alpha Inn, near the Museum--we are to be found in +the Museum itself during the day, you understand. This year our +good host, Windigate by name, instituted a goose club, by which, +on consideration of some few pence every week, we were each to +receive a bird at Christmas. My pence were duly paid, and the +rest is familiar to you. I am much indebted to you, sir, for a +Scotch bonnet is fitted neither to my years nor my gravity." With +a comical pomposity of manner he bowed solemnly to both of us and +strode off upon his way. + +"So much for Mr. Henry Baker," said Holmes when he had closed the +door behind him. "It is quite certain that he knows nothing +whatever about the matter. Are you hungry, Watson?" + +"Not particularly." + +"Then I suggest that we turn our dinner into a supper and follow +up this clue while it is still hot." + +"By all means." + +It was a bitter night, so we drew on our ulsters and wrapped +cravats about our throats. Outside, the stars were shining coldly +in a cloudless sky, and the breath of the passers-by blew out +into smoke like so many pistol shots. Our footfalls rang out +crisply and loudly as we swung through the doctors' quarter, +Wimpole Street, Harley Street, and so through Wigmore Street into +Oxford Street. In a quarter of an hour we were in Bloomsbury at +the Alpha Inn, which is a small public-house at the corner of one +of the streets which runs down into Holborn. Holmes pushed open +the door of the private bar and ordered two glasses of beer from +the ruddy-faced, white-aproned landlord. + +"Your beer should be excellent if it is as good as your geese," +said he. + +"My geese!" The man seemed surprised. + +"Yes. I was speaking only half an hour ago to Mr. Henry Baker, +who was a member of your goose club." + +"Ah! yes, I see. But you see, sir, them's not our geese." + +"Indeed! Whose, then?" + +"Well, I got the two dozen from a salesman in Covent Garden." + +"Indeed? I know some of them. Which was it?" + +"Breckinridge is his name." + +"Ah! I don't know him. Well, here's your good health landlord, +and prosperity to your house. Good-night." + +"Now for Mr. Breckinridge," he continued, buttoning up his coat +as we came out into the frosty air. "Remember, Watson that though +we have so homely a thing as a goose at one end of this chain, we +have at the other a man who will certainly get seven years' penal +servitude unless we can establish his innocence. It is possible +that our inquiry may but confirm his guilt; but, in any case, we +have a line of investigation which has been missed by the police, +and which a singular chance has placed in our hands. Let us +follow it out to the bitter end. Faces to the south, then, and +quick march!" + +We passed across Holborn, down Endell Street, and so through a +zigzag of slums to Covent Garden Market. One of the largest +stalls bore the name of Breckinridge upon it, and the proprietor +a horsey-looking man, with a sharp face and trim side-whiskers was +helping a boy to put up the shutters. + +"Good-evening. It's a cold night," said Holmes. + +The salesman nodded and shot a questioning glance at my +companion. + +"Sold out of geese, I see," continued Holmes, pointing at the +bare slabs of marble. + +"Let you have five hundred to-morrow morning." + +"That's no good." + +"Well, there are some on the stall with the gas-flare." + +"Ah, but I was recommended to you." + +"Who by?" + +"The landlord of the Alpha." + +"Oh, yes; I sent him a couple of dozen." + +"Fine birds they were, too. Now where did you get them from?" + +To my surprise the question provoked a burst of anger from the +salesman. + +"Now, then, mister," said he, with his head cocked and his arms +akimbo, "what are you driving at? Let's have it straight, now." + +"It is straight enough. I should like to know who sold you the +geese which you supplied to the Alpha." + +"Well then, I shan't tell you. So now!" + +"Oh, it is a matter of no importance; but I don't know why you +should be so warm over such a trifle." + +"Warm! You'd be as warm, maybe, if you were as pestered as I am. +When I pay good money for a good article there should be an end +of the business; but it's 'Where are the geese?' and 'Who did you +sell the geese to?' and 'What will you take for the geese?' One +would think they were the only geese in the world, to hear the +fuss that is made over them." + +"Well, I have no connection with any other people who have been +making inquiries," said Holmes carelessly. "If you won't tell us +the bet is off, that is all. But I'm always ready to back my +opinion on a matter of fowls, and I have a fiver on it that the +bird I ate is country bred." + +"Well, then, you've lost your fiver, for it's town bred," snapped +the salesman. + +"It's nothing of the kind." + +"I say it is." + +"I don't believe it." + +"D'you think you know more about fowls than I, who have handled +them ever since I was a nipper? I tell you, all those birds that +went to the Alpha were town bred." + +"You'll never persuade me to believe that." + +"Will you bet, then?" + +"It's merely taking your money, for I know that I am right. But +I'll have a sovereign on with you, just to teach you not to be +obstinate." + +The salesman chuckled grimly. "Bring me the books, Bill," said +he. + +The small boy brought round a small thin volume and a great +greasy-backed one, laying them out together beneath the hanging +lamp. + +"Now then, Mr. Cocksure," said the salesman, "I thought that I +was out of geese, but before I finish you'll find that there is +still one left in my shop. You see this little book?" + +"Well?" + +"That's the list of the folk from whom I buy. D'you see? Well, +then, here on this page are the country folk, and the numbers +after their names are where their accounts are in the big ledger. +Now, then! You see this other page in red ink? Well, that is a +list of my town suppliers. Now, look at that third name. Just +read it out to me." + +"Mrs. Oakshott, 117, Brixton Road--249," read Holmes. + +"Quite so. Now turn that up in the ledger." + +Holmes turned to the page indicated. "Here you are, 'Mrs. +Oakshott, 117, Brixton Road, egg and poultry supplier.'" + +"Now, then, what's the last entry?" + +"'December 22nd. Twenty-four geese at 7s. 6d.'" + +"Quite so. There you are. And underneath?" + +"'Sold to Mr. Windigate of the Alpha, at 12s.'" + +"What have you to say now?" + +Sherlock Holmes looked deeply chagrined. He drew a sovereign from +his pocket and threw it down upon the slab, turning away with the +air of a man whose disgust is too deep for words. A few yards off +he stopped under a lamp-post and laughed in the hearty, noiseless +fashion which was peculiar to him. + +"When you see a man with whiskers of that cut and the 'Pink 'un' +protruding out of his pocket, you can always draw him by a bet," +said he. "I daresay that if I had put 100 pounds down in front of +him, that man would not have given me such complete information +as was drawn from him by the idea that he was doing me on a +wager. Well, Watson, we are, I fancy, nearing the end of our +quest, and the only point which remains to be determined is +whether we should go on to this Mrs. Oakshott to-night, or +whether we should reserve it for to-morrow. It is clear from what +that surly fellow said that there are others besides ourselves +who are anxious about the matter, and I should--" + +His remarks were suddenly cut short by a loud hubbub which broke +out from the stall which we had just left. Turning round we saw a +little rat-faced fellow standing in the centre of the circle of +yellow light which was thrown by the swinging lamp, while +Breckinridge, the salesman, framed in the door of his stall, was +shaking his fists fiercely at the cringing figure. + +"I've had enough of you and your geese," he shouted. "I wish you +were all at the devil together. If you come pestering me any more +with your silly talk I'll set the dog at you. You bring Mrs. +Oakshott here and I'll answer her, but what have you to do with +it? Did I buy the geese off you?" + +"No; but one of them was mine all the same," whined the little +man. + +"Well, then, ask Mrs. Oakshott for it." + +"She told me to ask you." + +"Well, you can ask the King of Proosia, for all I care. I've had +enough of it. Get out of this!" He rushed fiercely forward, and +the inquirer flitted away into the darkness. + +"Ha! this may save us a visit to Brixton Road," whispered Holmes. +"Come with me, and we will see what is to be made of this +fellow." Striding through the scattered knots of people who +lounged round the flaring stalls, my companion speedily overtook +the little man and touched him upon the shoulder. He sprang +round, and I could see in the gas-light that every vestige of +colour had been driven from his face. + +"Who are you, then? What do you want?" he asked in a quavering +voice. + +"You will excuse me," said Holmes blandly, "but I could not help +overhearing the questions which you put to the salesman just now. +I think that I could be of assistance to you." + +"You? Who are you? How could you know anything of the matter?" + +"My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what other +people don't know." + +"But you can know nothing of this?" + +"Excuse me, I know everything of it. You are endeavouring to +trace some geese which were sold by Mrs. Oakshott, of Brixton +Road, to a salesman named Breckinridge, by him in turn to Mr. +Windigate, of the Alpha, and by him to his club, of which Mr. +Henry Baker is a member." + +"Oh, sir, you are the very man whom I have longed to meet," cried +the little fellow with outstretched hands and quivering fingers. +"I can hardly explain to you how interested I am in this matter." + +Sherlock Holmes hailed a four-wheeler which was passing. "In that +case we had better discuss it in a cosy room rather than in this +wind-swept market-place," said he. "But pray tell me, before we +go farther, who it is that I have the pleasure of assisting." + +The man hesitated for an instant. "My name is John Robinson," he +answered with a sidelong glance. + +"No, no; the real name," said Holmes sweetly. "It is always +awkward doing business with an alias." + +A flush sprang to the white cheeks of the stranger. "Well then," +said he, "my real name is James Ryder." + +"Precisely so. Head attendant at the Hotel Cosmopolitan. Pray +step into the cab, and I shall soon be able to tell you +everything which you would wish to know." + +The little man stood glancing from one to the other of us with +half-frightened, half-hopeful eyes, as one who is not sure +whether he is on the verge of a windfall or of a catastrophe. +Then he stepped into the cab, and in half an hour we were back in +the sitting-room at Baker Street. Nothing had been said during +our drive, but the high, thin breathing of our new companion, and +the claspings and unclaspings of his hands, spoke of the nervous +tension within him. + +"Here we are!" said Holmes cheerily as we filed into the room. +"The fire looks very seasonable in this weather. You look cold, +Mr. Ryder. Pray take the basket-chair. I will just put on my +slippers before we settle this little matter of yours. Now, then! +You want to know what became of those geese?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Or rather, I fancy, of that goose. It was one bird, I imagine in +which you were interested--white, with a black bar across the +tail." + +Ryder quivered with emotion. "Oh, sir," he cried, "can you tell +me where it went to?" + +"It came here." + +"Here?" + +"Yes, and a most remarkable bird it proved. I don't wonder that +you should take an interest in it. It laid an egg after it was +dead--the bonniest, brightest little blue egg that ever was seen. +I have it here in my museum." + +Our visitor staggered to his feet and clutched the mantelpiece +with his right hand. Holmes unlocked his strong-box and held up +the blue carbuncle, which shone out like a star, with a cold, +brilliant, many-pointed radiance. Ryder stood glaring with a +drawn face, uncertain whether to claim or to disown it. + +"The game's up, Ryder," said Holmes quietly. "Hold up, man, or +you'll be into the fire! Give him an arm back into his chair, +Watson. He's not got blood enough to go in for felony with +impunity. Give him a dash of brandy. So! Now he looks a little +more human. What a shrimp it is, to be sure!" + +For a moment he had staggered and nearly fallen, but the brandy +brought a tinge of colour into his cheeks, and he sat staring +with frightened eyes at his accuser. + +"I have almost every link in my hands, and all the proofs which I +could possibly need, so there is little which you need tell me. +Still, that little may as well be cleared up to make the case +complete. You had heard, Ryder, of this blue stone of the +Countess of Morcar's?" + +"It was Catherine Cusack who told me of it," said he in a +crackling voice. + +"I see--her ladyship's waiting-maid. Well, the temptation of +sudden wealth so easily acquired was too much for you, as it has +been for better men before you; but you were not very scrupulous +in the means you used. It seems to me, Ryder, that there is the +making of a very pretty villain in you. You knew that this man +Horner, the plumber, had been concerned in some such matter +before, and that suspicion would rest the more readily upon him. +What did you do, then? You made some small job in my lady's +room--you and your confederate Cusack--and you managed that he +should be the man sent for. Then, when he had left, you rifled +the jewel-case, raised the alarm, and had this unfortunate man +arrested. You then--" + +Ryder threw himself down suddenly upon the rug and clutched at my +companion's knees. "For God's sake, have mercy!" he shrieked. +"Think of my father! Of my mother! It would break their hearts. I +never went wrong before! I never will again. I swear it. I'll +swear it on a Bible. Oh, don't bring it into court! For Christ's +sake, don't!" + +"Get back into your chair!" said Holmes sternly. "It is very well +to cringe and crawl now, but you thought little enough of this +poor Horner in the dock for a crime of which he knew nothing." + +"I will fly, Mr. Holmes. I will leave the country, sir. Then the +charge against him will break down." + +"Hum! We will talk about that. And now let us hear a true account +of the next act. How came the stone into the goose, and how came +the goose into the open market? Tell us the truth, for there lies +your only hope of safety." + +Ryder passed his tongue over his parched lips. "I will tell you +it just as it happened, sir," said he. "When Horner had been +arrested, it seemed to me that it would be best for me to get +away with the stone at once, for I did not know at what moment +the police might not take it into their heads to search me and my +room. There was no place about the hotel where it would be safe. +I went out, as if on some commission, and I made for my sister's +house. She had married a man named Oakshott, and lived in Brixton +Road, where she fattened fowls for the market. All the way there +every man I met seemed to me to be a policeman or a detective; +and, for all that it was a cold night, the sweat was pouring down +my face before I came to the Brixton Road. My sister asked me +what was the matter, and why I was so pale; but I told her that I +had been upset by the jewel robbery at the hotel. Then I went +into the back yard and smoked a pipe and wondered what it would +be best to do. + +"I had a friend once called Maudsley, who went to the bad, and +has just been serving his time in Pentonville. One day he had met +me, and fell into talk about the ways of thieves, and how they +could get rid of what they stole. I knew that he would be true to +me, for I knew one or two things about him; so I made up my mind +to go right on to Kilburn, where he lived, and take him into my +confidence. He would show me how to turn the stone into money. +But how to get to him in safety? I thought of the agonies I had +gone through in coming from the hotel. I might at any moment be +seized and searched, and there would be the stone in my waistcoat +pocket. I was leaning against the wall at the time and looking at +the geese which were waddling about round my feet, and suddenly +an idea came into my head which showed me how I could beat the +best detective that ever lived. + +"My sister had told me some weeks before that I might have the +pick of her geese for a Christmas present, and I knew that she +was always as good as her word. I would take my goose now, and in +it I would carry my stone to Kilburn. There was a little shed in +the yard, and behind this I drove one of the birds--a fine big +one, white, with a barred tail. I caught it, and prying its bill +open, I thrust the stone down its throat as far as my finger +could reach. The bird gave a gulp, and I felt the stone pass +along its gullet and down into its crop. But the creature flapped +and struggled, and out came my sister to know what was the +matter. As I turned to speak to her the brute broke loose and +fluttered off among the others. + +"'Whatever were you doing with that bird, Jem?' says she. + +"'Well,' said I, 'you said you'd give me one for Christmas, and I +was feeling which was the fattest.' + +"'Oh,' says she, 'we've set yours aside for you--Jem's bird, we +call it. It's the big white one over yonder. There's twenty-six +of them, which makes one for you, and one for us, and two dozen +for the market.' + +"'Thank you, Maggie,' says I; 'but if it is all the same to you, +I'd rather have that one I was handling just now.' + +"'The other is a good three pound heavier,' said she, 'and we +fattened it expressly for you.' + +"'Never mind. I'll have the other, and I'll take it now,' said I. + +"'Oh, just as you like,' said she, a little huffed. 'Which is it +you want, then?' + +"'That white one with the barred tail, right in the middle of the +flock.' + +"'Oh, very well. Kill it and take it with you.' + +"Well, I did what she said, Mr. Holmes, and I carried the bird +all the way to Kilburn. I told my pal what I had done, for he was +a man that it was easy to tell a thing like that to. He laughed +until he choked, and we got a knife and opened the goose. My +heart turned to water, for there was no sign of the stone, and I +knew that some terrible mistake had occurred. I left the bird, +rushed back to my sister's, and hurried into the back yard. There +was not a bird to be seen there. + +"'Where are they all, Maggie?' I cried. + +"'Gone to the dealer's, Jem.' + +"'Which dealer's?' + +"'Breckinridge, of Covent Garden.' + +"'But was there another with a barred tail?' I asked, 'the same +as the one I chose?' + +"'Yes, Jem; there were two barred-tailed ones, and I could never +tell them apart.' + +"Well, then, of course I saw it all, and I ran off as hard as my +feet would carry me to this man Breckinridge; but he had sold the +lot at once, and not one word would he tell me as to where they +had gone. You heard him yourselves to-night. Well, he has always +answered me like that. My sister thinks that I am going mad. +Sometimes I think that I am myself. And now--and now I am myself +a branded thief, without ever having touched the wealth for which +I sold my character. God help me! God help me!" He burst into +convulsive sobbing, with his face buried in his hands. + +There was a long silence, broken only by his heavy breathing and +by the measured tapping of Sherlock Holmes' finger-tips upon the +edge of the table. Then my friend rose and threw open the door. + +"Get out!" said he. + +"What, sir! Oh, Heaven bless you!" + +"No more words. Get out!" + +And no more words were needed. There was a rush, a clatter upon +the stairs, the bang of a door, and the crisp rattle of running +footfalls from the street. + +"After all, Watson," said Holmes, reaching up his hand for his +clay pipe, "I am not retained by the police to supply their +deficiencies. If Horner were in danger it would be another thing; +but this fellow will not appear against him, and the case must +collapse. I suppose that I am commuting a felony, but it is just +possible that I am saving a soul. This fellow will not go wrong +again; he is too terribly frightened. Send him to gaol now, and +you make him a gaol-bird for life. Besides, it is the season of +forgiveness. Chance has put in our way a most singular and +whimsical problem, and its solution is its own reward. If you +will have the goodness to touch the bell, Doctor, we will begin +another investigation, in which, also a bird will be the chief +feature." + + + +VIII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE SPECKLED BAND + +On glancing over my notes of the seventy odd cases in which I +have during the last eight years studied the methods of my friend +Sherlock Holmes, I find many tragic, some comic, a large number +merely strange, but none commonplace; for, working as he did +rather for the love of his art than for the acquirement of +wealth, he refused to associate himself with any investigation +which did not tend towards the unusual, and even the fantastic. +Of all these varied cases, however, I cannot recall any which +presented more singular features than that which was associated +with the well-known Surrey family of the Roylotts of Stoke Moran. +The events in question occurred in the early days of my +association with Holmes, when we were sharing rooms as bachelors +in Baker Street. It is possible that I might have placed them +upon record before, but a promise of secrecy was made at the +time, from which I have only been freed during the last month by +the untimely death of the lady to whom the pledge was given. It +is perhaps as well that the facts should now come to light, for I +have reasons to know that there are widespread rumours as to the +death of Dr. Grimesby Roylott which tend to make the matter even +more terrible than the truth. + +It was early in April in the year '83 that I woke one morning to +find Sherlock Holmes standing, fully dressed, by the side of my +bed. He was a late riser, as a rule, and as the clock on the +mantelpiece showed me that it was only a quarter-past seven, I +blinked up at him in some surprise, and perhaps just a little +resentment, for I was myself regular in my habits. + +"Very sorry to knock you up, Watson," said he, "but it's the +common lot this morning. Mrs. Hudson has been knocked up, she +retorted upon me, and I on you." + +"What is it, then--a fire?" + +"No; a client. It seems that a young lady has arrived in a +considerable state of excitement, who insists upon seeing me. She +is waiting now in the sitting-room. Now, when young ladies wander +about the metropolis at this hour of the morning, and knock +sleepy people up out of their beds, I presume that it is +something very pressing which they have to communicate. Should it +prove to be an interesting case, you would, I am sure, wish to +follow it from the outset. I thought, at any rate, that I should +call you and give you the chance." + +"My dear fellow, I would not miss it for anything." + +I had no keener pleasure than in following Holmes in his +professional investigations, and in admiring the rapid +deductions, as swift as intuitions, and yet always founded on a +logical basis with which he unravelled the problems which were +submitted to him. I rapidly threw on my clothes and was ready in +a few minutes to accompany my friend down to the sitting-room. A +lady dressed in black and heavily veiled, who had been sitting in +the window, rose as we entered. + +"Good-morning, madam," said Holmes cheerily. "My name is Sherlock +Holmes. This is my intimate friend and associate, Dr. Watson, +before whom you can speak as freely as before myself. Ha! I am +glad to see that Mrs. Hudson has had the good sense to light the +fire. Pray draw up to it, and I shall order you a cup of hot +coffee, for I observe that you are shivering." + +"It is not cold which makes me shiver," said the woman in a low +voice, changing her seat as requested. + +"What, then?" + +"It is fear, Mr. Holmes. It is terror." She raised her veil as +she spoke, and we could see that she was indeed in a pitiable +state of agitation, her face all drawn and grey, with restless +frightened eyes, like those of some hunted animal. Her features +and figure were those of a woman of thirty, but her hair was shot +with premature grey, and her expression was weary and haggard. +Sherlock Holmes ran her over with one of his quick, +all-comprehensive glances. + +"You must not fear," said he soothingly, bending forward and +patting her forearm. "We shall soon set matters right, I have no +doubt. You have come in by train this morning, I see." + +"You know me, then?" + +"No, but I observe the second half of a return ticket in the palm +of your left glove. You must have started early, and yet you had +a good drive in a dog-cart, along heavy roads, before you reached +the station." + +The lady gave a violent start and stared in bewilderment at my +companion. + +"There is no mystery, my dear madam," said he, smiling. "The left +arm of your jacket is spattered with mud in no less than seven +places. The marks are perfectly fresh. There is no vehicle save a +dog-cart which throws up mud in that way, and then only when you +sit on the left-hand side of the driver." + +"Whatever your reasons may be, you are perfectly correct," said +she. "I started from home before six, reached Leatherhead at +twenty past, and came in by the first train to Waterloo. Sir, I +can stand this strain no longer; I shall go mad if it continues. +I have no one to turn to--none, save only one, who cares for me, +and he, poor fellow, can be of little aid. I have heard of you, +Mr. Holmes; I have heard of you from Mrs. Farintosh, whom you +helped in the hour of her sore need. It was from her that I had +your address. Oh, sir, do you not think that you could help me, +too, and at least throw a little light through the dense darkness +which surrounds me? At present it is out of my power to reward +you for your services, but in a month or six weeks I shall be +married, with the control of my own income, and then at least you +shall not find me ungrateful." + +Holmes turned to his desk and, unlocking it, drew out a small +case-book, which he consulted. + +"Farintosh," said he. "Ah yes, I recall the case; it was +concerned with an opal tiara. I think it was before your time, +Watson. I can only say, madam, that I shall be happy to devote +the same care to your case as I did to that of your friend. As to +reward, my profession is its own reward; but you are at liberty +to defray whatever expenses I may be put to, at the time which +suits you best. And now I beg that you will lay before us +everything that may help us in forming an opinion upon the +matter." + +"Alas!" replied our visitor, "the very horror of my situation +lies in the fact that my fears are so vague, and my suspicions +depend so entirely upon small points, which might seem trivial to +another, that even he to whom of all others I have a right to +look for help and advice looks upon all that I tell him about it +as the fancies of a nervous woman. He does not say so, but I can +read it from his soothing answers and averted eyes. But I have +heard, Mr. Holmes, that you can see deeply into the manifold +wickedness of the human heart. You may advise me how to walk amid +the dangers which encompass me." + +"I am all attention, madam." + +"My name is Helen Stoner, and I am living with my stepfather, who +is the last survivor of one of the oldest Saxon families in +England, the Roylotts of Stoke Moran, on the western border of +Surrey." + +Holmes nodded his head. "The name is familiar to me," said he. + +"The family was at one time among the richest in England, and the +estates extended over the borders into Berkshire in the north, +and Hampshire in the west. In the last century, however, four +successive heirs were of a dissolute and wasteful disposition, +and the family ruin was eventually completed by a gambler in the +days of the Regency. Nothing was left save a few acres of ground, +and the two-hundred-year-old house, which is itself crushed under +a heavy mortgage. The last squire dragged out his existence +there, living the horrible life of an aristocratic pauper; but +his only son, my stepfather, seeing that he must adapt himself to +the new conditions, obtained an advance from a relative, which +enabled him to take a medical degree and went out to Calcutta, +where, by his professional skill and his force of character, he +established a large practice. In a fit of anger, however, caused +by some robberies which had been perpetrated in the house, he +beat his native butler to death and narrowly escaped a capital +sentence. As it was, he suffered a long term of imprisonment and +afterwards returned to England a morose and disappointed man. + +"When Dr. Roylott was in India he married my mother, Mrs. Stoner, +the young widow of Major-General Stoner, of the Bengal Artillery. +My sister Julia and I were twins, and we were only two years old +at the time of my mother's re-marriage. She had a considerable +sum of money--not less than 1000 pounds a year--and this she +bequeathed to Dr. Roylott entirely while we resided with him, +with a provision that a certain annual sum should be allowed to +each of us in the event of our marriage. Shortly after our return +to England my mother died--she was killed eight years ago in a +railway accident near Crewe. Dr. Roylott then abandoned his +attempts to establish himself in practice in London and took us +to live with him in the old ancestral house at Stoke Moran. The +money which my mother had left was enough for all our wants, and +there seemed to be no obstacle to our happiness. + +"But a terrible change came over our stepfather about this time. +Instead of making friends and exchanging visits with our +neighbours, who had at first been overjoyed to see a Roylott of +Stoke Moran back in the old family seat, he shut himself up in +his house and seldom came out save to indulge in ferocious +quarrels with whoever might cross his path. Violence of temper +approaching to mania has been hereditary in the men of the +family, and in my stepfather's case it had, I believe, been +intensified by his long residence in the tropics. A series of +disgraceful brawls took place, two of which ended in the +police-court, until at last he became the terror of the village, +and the folks would fly at his approach, for he is a man of +immense strength, and absolutely uncontrollable in his anger. + +"Last week he hurled the local blacksmith over a parapet into a +stream, and it was only by paying over all the money which I +could gather together that I was able to avert another public +exposure. He had no friends at all save the wandering gipsies, +and he would give these vagabonds leave to encamp upon the few +acres of bramble-covered land which represent the family estate, +and would accept in return the hospitality of their tents, +wandering away with them sometimes for weeks on end. He has a +passion also for Indian animals, which are sent over to him by a +correspondent, and he has at this moment a cheetah and a baboon, +which wander freely over his grounds and are feared by the +villagers almost as much as their master. + +"You can imagine from what I say that my poor sister Julia and I +had no great pleasure in our lives. No servant would stay with +us, and for a long time we did all the work of the house. She was +but thirty at the time of her death, and yet her hair had already +begun to whiten, even as mine has." + +"Your sister is dead, then?" + +"She died just two years ago, and it is of her death that I wish +to speak to you. You can understand that, living the life which I +have described, we were little likely to see anyone of our own +age and position. We had, however, an aunt, my mother's maiden +sister, Miss Honoria Westphail, who lives near Harrow, and we +were occasionally allowed to pay short visits at this lady's +house. Julia went there at Christmas two years ago, and met there +a half-pay major of marines, to whom she became engaged. My +stepfather learned of the engagement when my sister returned and +offered no objection to the marriage; but within a fortnight of +the day which had been fixed for the wedding, the terrible event +occurred which has deprived me of my only companion." + +Sherlock Holmes had been leaning back in his chair with his eyes +closed and his head sunk in a cushion, but he half opened his +lids now and glanced across at his visitor. + +"Pray be precise as to details," said he. + +"It is easy for me to be so, for every event of that dreadful +time is seared into my memory. The manor-house is, as I have +already said, very old, and only one wing is now inhabited. The +bedrooms in this wing are on the ground floor, the sitting-rooms +being in the central block of the buildings. Of these bedrooms +the first is Dr. Roylott's, the second my sister's, and the third +my own. There is no communication between them, but they all open +out into the same corridor. Do I make myself plain?" + +"Perfectly so." + +"The windows of the three rooms open out upon the lawn. That +fatal night Dr. Roylott had gone to his room early, though we +knew that he had not retired to rest, for my sister was troubled +by the smell of the strong Indian cigars which it was his custom +to smoke. She left her room, therefore, and came into mine, where +she sat for some time, chatting about her approaching wedding. At +eleven o'clock she rose to leave me, but she paused at the door +and looked back. + +"'Tell me, Helen,' said she, 'have you ever heard anyone whistle +in the dead of the night?' + +"'Never,' said I. + +"'I suppose that you could not possibly whistle, yourself, in +your sleep?' + +"'Certainly not. But why?' + +"'Because during the last few nights I have always, about three +in the morning, heard a low, clear whistle. I am a light sleeper, +and it has awakened me. I cannot tell where it came from--perhaps +from the next room, perhaps from the lawn. I thought that I would +just ask you whether you had heard it.' + +"'No, I have not. It must be those wretched gipsies in the +plantation.' + +"'Very likely. And yet if it were on the lawn, I wonder that you +did not hear it also.' + +"'Ah, but I sleep more heavily than you.' + +"'Well, it is of no great consequence, at any rate.' She smiled +back at me, closed my door, and a few moments later I heard her +key turn in the lock." + +"Indeed," said Holmes. "Was it your custom always to lock +yourselves in at night?" + +"Always." + +"And why?" + +"I think that I mentioned to you that the doctor kept a cheetah +and a baboon. We had no feeling of security unless our doors were +locked." + +"Quite so. Pray proceed with your statement." + +"I could not sleep that night. A vague feeling of impending +misfortune impressed me. My sister and I, you will recollect, +were twins, and you know how subtle are the links which bind two +souls which are so closely allied. It was a wild night. The wind +was howling outside, and the rain was beating and splashing +against the windows. Suddenly, amid all the hubbub of the gale, +there burst forth the wild scream of a terrified woman. I knew +that it was my sister's voice. I sprang from my bed, wrapped a +shawl round me, and rushed into the corridor. As I opened my door +I seemed to hear a low whistle, such as my sister described, and +a few moments later a clanging sound, as if a mass of metal had +fallen. As I ran down the passage, my sister's door was unlocked, +and revolved slowly upon its hinges. I stared at it +horror-stricken, not knowing what was about to issue from it. By +the light of the corridor-lamp I saw my sister appear at the +opening, her face blanched with terror, her hands groping for +help, her whole figure swaying to and fro like that of a +drunkard. I ran to her and threw my arms round her, but at that +moment her knees seemed to give way and she fell to the ground. +She writhed as one who is in terrible pain, and her limbs were +dreadfully convulsed. At first I thought that she had not +recognised me, but as I bent over her she suddenly shrieked out +in a voice which I shall never forget, 'Oh, my God! Helen! It was +the band! The speckled band!' There was something else which she +would fain have said, and she stabbed with her finger into the +air in the direction of the doctor's room, but a fresh convulsion +seized her and choked her words. I rushed out, calling loudly for +my stepfather, and I met him hastening from his room in his +dressing-gown. When he reached my sister's side she was +unconscious, and though he poured brandy down her throat and sent +for medical aid from the village, all efforts were in vain, for +she slowly sank and died without having recovered her +consciousness. Such was the dreadful end of my beloved sister." + +"One moment," said Holmes, "are you sure about this whistle and +metallic sound? Could you swear to it?" + +"That was what the county coroner asked me at the inquiry. It is +my strong impression that I heard it, and yet, among the crash of +the gale and the creaking of an old house, I may possibly have +been deceived." + +"Was your sister dressed?" + +"No, she was in her night-dress. In her right hand was found the +charred stump of a match, and in her left a match-box." + +"Showing that she had struck a light and looked about her when +the alarm took place. That is important. And what conclusions did +the coroner come to?" + +"He investigated the case with great care, for Dr. Roylott's +conduct had long been notorious in the county, but he was unable +to find any satisfactory cause of death. My evidence showed that +the door had been fastened upon the inner side, and the windows +were blocked by old-fashioned shutters with broad iron bars, +which were secured every night. The walls were carefully sounded, +and were shown to be quite solid all round, and the flooring was +also thoroughly examined, with the same result. The chimney is +wide, but is barred up by four large staples. It is certain, +therefore, that my sister was quite alone when she met her end. +Besides, there were no marks of any violence upon her." + +"How about poison?" + +"The doctors examined her for it, but without success." + +"What do you think that this unfortunate lady died of, then?" + +"It is my belief that she died of pure fear and nervous shock, +though what it was that frightened her I cannot imagine." + +"Were there gipsies in the plantation at the time?" + +"Yes, there are nearly always some there." + +"Ah, and what did you gather from this allusion to a band--a +speckled band?" + +"Sometimes I have thought that it was merely the wild talk of +delirium, sometimes that it may have referred to some band of +people, perhaps to these very gipsies in the plantation. I do not +know whether the spotted handkerchiefs which so many of them wear +over their heads might have suggested the strange adjective which +she used." + +Holmes shook his head like a man who is far from being satisfied. + +"These are very deep waters," said he; "pray go on with your +narrative." + +"Two years have passed since then, and my life has been until +lately lonelier than ever. A month ago, however, a dear friend, +whom I have known for many years, has done me the honour to ask +my hand in marriage. His name is Armitage--Percy Armitage--the +second son of Mr. Armitage, of Crane Water, near Reading. My +stepfather has offered no opposition to the match, and we are to +be married in the course of the spring. Two days ago some repairs +were started in the west wing of the building, and my bedroom +wall has been pierced, so that I have had to move into the +chamber in which my sister died, and to sleep in the very bed in +which she slept. Imagine, then, my thrill of terror when last +night, as I lay awake, thinking over her terrible fate, I +suddenly heard in the silence of the night the low whistle which +had been the herald of her own death. I sprang up and lit the +lamp, but nothing was to be seen in the room. I was too shaken to +go to bed again, however, so I dressed, and as soon as it was +daylight I slipped down, got a dog-cart at the Crown Inn, which +is opposite, and drove to Leatherhead, from whence I have come on +this morning with the one object of seeing you and asking your +advice." + +"You have done wisely," said my friend. "But have you told me +all?" + +"Yes, all." + +"Miss Roylott, you have not. You are screening your stepfather." + +"Why, what do you mean?" + +For answer Holmes pushed back the frill of black lace which +fringed the hand that lay upon our visitor's knee. Five little +livid spots, the marks of four fingers and a thumb, were printed +upon the white wrist. + +"You have been cruelly used," said Holmes. + +The lady coloured deeply and covered over her injured wrist. "He +is a hard man," she said, "and perhaps he hardly knows his own +strength." + +There was a long silence, during which Holmes leaned his chin +upon his hands and stared into the crackling fire. + +"This is a very deep business," he said at last. "There are a +thousand details which I should desire to know before I decide +upon our course of action. Yet we have not a moment to lose. If +we were to come to Stoke Moran to-day, would it be possible for +us to see over these rooms without the knowledge of your +stepfather?" + +"As it happens, he spoke of coming into town to-day upon some +most important business. It is probable that he will be away all +day, and that there would be nothing to disturb you. We have a +housekeeper now, but she is old and foolish, and I could easily +get her out of the way." + +"Excellent. You are not averse to this trip, Watson?" + +"By no means." + +"Then we shall both come. What are you going to do yourself?" + +"I have one or two things which I would wish to do now that I am +in town. But I shall return by the twelve o'clock train, so as to +be there in time for your coming." + +"And you may expect us early in the afternoon. I have myself some +small business matters to attend to. Will you not wait and +breakfast?" + +"No, I must go. My heart is lightened already since I have +confided my trouble to you. I shall look forward to seeing you +again this afternoon." She dropped her thick black veil over her +face and glided from the room. + +"And what do you think of it all, Watson?" asked Sherlock Holmes, +leaning back in his chair. + +"It seems to me to be a most dark and sinister business." + +"Dark enough and sinister enough." + +"Yet if the lady is correct in saying that the flooring and walls +are sound, and that the door, window, and chimney are impassable, +then her sister must have been undoubtedly alone when she met her +mysterious end." + +"What becomes, then, of these nocturnal whistles, and what of the +very peculiar words of the dying woman?" + +"I cannot think." + +"When you combine the ideas of whistles at night, the presence of +a band of gipsies who are on intimate terms with this old doctor, +the fact that we have every reason to believe that the doctor has +an interest in preventing his stepdaughter's marriage, the dying +allusion to a band, and, finally, the fact that Miss Helen Stoner +heard a metallic clang, which might have been caused by one of +those metal bars that secured the shutters falling back into its +place, I think that there is good ground to think that the +mystery may be cleared along those lines." + +"But what, then, did the gipsies do?" + +"I cannot imagine." + +"I see many objections to any such theory." + +"And so do I. It is precisely for that reason that we are going +to Stoke Moran this day. I want to see whether the objections are +fatal, or if they may be explained away. But what in the name of +the devil!" + +The ejaculation had been drawn from my companion by the fact that +our door had been suddenly dashed open, and that a huge man had +framed himself in the aperture. His costume was a peculiar +mixture of the professional and of the agricultural, having a +black top-hat, a long frock-coat, and a pair of high gaiters, +with a hunting-crop swinging in his hand. So tall was he that his +hat actually brushed the cross bar of the doorway, and his +breadth seemed to span it across from side to side. A large face, +seared with a thousand wrinkles, burned yellow with the sun, and +marked with every evil passion, was turned from one to the other +of us, while his deep-set, bile-shot eyes, and his high, thin, +fleshless nose, gave him somewhat the resemblance to a fierce old +bird of prey. + +"Which of you is Holmes?" asked this apparition. + +"My name, sir; but you have the advantage of me," said my +companion quietly. + +"I am Dr. Grimesby Roylott, of Stoke Moran." + +"Indeed, Doctor," said Holmes blandly. "Pray take a seat." + +"I will do nothing of the kind. My stepdaughter has been here. I +have traced her. What has she been saying to you?" + +"It is a little cold for the time of the year," said Holmes. + +"What has she been saying to you?" screamed the old man +furiously. + +"But I have heard that the crocuses promise well," continued my +companion imperturbably. + +"Ha! You put me off, do you?" said our new visitor, taking a step +forward and shaking his hunting-crop. "I know you, you scoundrel! +I have heard of you before. You are Holmes, the meddler." + +My friend smiled. + +"Holmes, the busybody!" + +His smile broadened. + +"Holmes, the Scotland Yard Jack-in-office!" + +Holmes chuckled heartily. "Your conversation is most +entertaining," said he. "When you go out close the door, for +there is a decided draught." + +"I will go when I have said my say. Don't you dare to meddle with +my affairs. I know that Miss Stoner has been here. I traced her! +I am a dangerous man to fall foul of! See here." He stepped +swiftly forward, seized the poker, and bent it into a curve with +his huge brown hands. + +"See that you keep yourself out of my grip," he snarled, and +hurling the twisted poker into the fireplace he strode out of the +room. + +"He seems a very amiable person," said Holmes, laughing. "I am +not quite so bulky, but if he had remained I might have shown him +that my grip was not much more feeble than his own." As he spoke +he picked up the steel poker and, with a sudden effort, +straightened it out again. + +"Fancy his having the insolence to confound me with the official +detective force! This incident gives zest to our investigation, +however, and I only trust that our little friend will not suffer +from her imprudence in allowing this brute to trace her. And now, +Watson, we shall order breakfast, and afterwards I shall walk +down to Doctors' Commons, where I hope to get some data which may +help us in this matter." + + +It was nearly one o'clock when Sherlock Holmes returned from his +excursion. He held in his hand a sheet of blue paper, scrawled +over with notes and figures. + +"I have seen the will of the deceased wife," said he. "To +determine its exact meaning I have been obliged to work out the +present prices of the investments with which it is concerned. The +total income, which at the time of the wife's death was little +short of 1100 pounds, is now, through the fall in agricultural +prices, not more than 750 pounds. Each daughter can claim an +income of 250 pounds, in case of marriage. It is evident, +therefore, that if both girls had married, this beauty would have +had a mere pittance, while even one of them would cripple him to +a very serious extent. My morning's work has not been wasted, +since it has proved that he has the very strongest motives for +standing in the way of anything of the sort. And now, Watson, +this is too serious for dawdling, especially as the old man is +aware that we are interesting ourselves in his affairs; so if you +are ready, we shall call a cab and drive to Waterloo. I should be +very much obliged if you would slip your revolver into your +pocket. An Eley's No. 2 is an excellent argument with gentlemen +who can twist steel pokers into knots. That and a tooth-brush +are, I think, all that we need." + +At Waterloo we were fortunate in catching a train for +Leatherhead, where we hired a trap at the station inn and drove +for four or five miles through the lovely Surrey lanes. It was a +perfect day, with a bright sun and a few fleecy clouds in the +heavens. The trees and wayside hedges were just throwing out +their first green shoots, and the air was full of the pleasant +smell of the moist earth. To me at least there was a strange +contrast between the sweet promise of the spring and this +sinister quest upon which we were engaged. My companion sat in +the front of the trap, his arms folded, his hat pulled down over +his eyes, and his chin sunk upon his breast, buried in the +deepest thought. Suddenly, however, he started, tapped me on the +shoulder, and pointed over the meadows. + +"Look there!" said he. + +A heavily timbered park stretched up in a gentle slope, +thickening into a grove at the highest point. From amid the +branches there jutted out the grey gables and high roof-tree of a +very old mansion. + +"Stoke Moran?" said he. + +"Yes, sir, that be the house of Dr. Grimesby Roylott," remarked +the driver. + +"There is some building going on there," said Holmes; "that is +where we are going." + +"There's the village," said the driver, pointing to a cluster of +roofs some distance to the left; "but if you want to get to the +house, you'll find it shorter to get over this stile, and so by +the foot-path over the fields. There it is, where the lady is +walking." + +"And the lady, I fancy, is Miss Stoner," observed Holmes, shading +his eyes. "Yes, I think we had better do as you suggest." + +We got off, paid our fare, and the trap rattled back on its way +to Leatherhead. + +"I thought it as well," said Holmes as we climbed the stile, +"that this fellow should think we had come here as architects, or +on some definite business. It may stop his gossip. +Good-afternoon, Miss Stoner. You see that we have been as good as +our word." + +Our client of the morning had hurried forward to meet us with a +face which spoke her joy. "I have been waiting so eagerly for +you," she cried, shaking hands with us warmly. "All has turned +out splendidly. Dr. Roylott has gone to town, and it is unlikely +that he will be back before evening." + +"We have had the pleasure of making the doctor's acquaintance," +said Holmes, and in a few words he sketched out what had +occurred. Miss Stoner turned white to the lips as she listened. + +"Good heavens!" she cried, "he has followed me, then." + +"So it appears." + +"He is so cunning that I never know when I am safe from him. What +will he say when he returns?" + +"He must guard himself, for he may find that there is someone +more cunning than himself upon his track. You must lock yourself +up from him to-night. If he is violent, we shall take you away to +your aunt's at Harrow. Now, we must make the best use of our +time, so kindly take us at once to the rooms which we are to +examine." + +The building was of grey, lichen-blotched stone, with a high +central portion and two curving wings, like the claws of a crab, +thrown out on each side. In one of these wings the windows were +broken and blocked with wooden boards, while the roof was partly +caved in, a picture of ruin. The central portion was in little +better repair, but the right-hand block was comparatively modern, +and the blinds in the windows, with the blue smoke curling up +from the chimneys, showed that this was where the family resided. +Some scaffolding had been erected against the end wall, and the +stone-work had been broken into, but there were no signs of any +workmen at the moment of our visit. Holmes walked slowly up and +down the ill-trimmed lawn and examined with deep attention the +outsides of the windows. + +"This, I take it, belongs to the room in which you used to sleep, +the centre one to your sister's, and the one next to the main +building to Dr. Roylott's chamber?" + +"Exactly so. But I am now sleeping in the middle one." + +"Pending the alterations, as I understand. By the way, there does +not seem to be any very pressing need for repairs at that end +wall." + +"There were none. I believe that it was an excuse to move me from +my room." + +"Ah! that is suggestive. Now, on the other side of this narrow +wing runs the corridor from which these three rooms open. There +are windows in it, of course?" + +"Yes, but very small ones. Too narrow for anyone to pass +through." + +"As you both locked your doors at night, your rooms were +unapproachable from that side. Now, would you have the kindness +to go into your room and bar your shutters?" + +Miss Stoner did so, and Holmes, after a careful examination +through the open window, endeavoured in every way to force the +shutter open, but without success. There was no slit through +which a knife could be passed to raise the bar. Then with his +lens he tested the hinges, but they were of solid iron, built +firmly into the massive masonry. "Hum!" said he, scratching his +chin in some perplexity, "my theory certainly presents some +difficulties. No one could pass these shutters if they were +bolted. Well, we shall see if the inside throws any light upon +the matter." + +A small side door led into the whitewashed corridor from which +the three bedrooms opened. Holmes refused to examine the third +chamber, so we passed at once to the second, that in which Miss +Stoner was now sleeping, and in which her sister had met with her +fate. It was a homely little room, with a low ceiling and a +gaping fireplace, after the fashion of old country-houses. A +brown chest of drawers stood in one corner, a narrow +white-counterpaned bed in another, and a dressing-table on the +left-hand side of the window. These articles, with two small +wicker-work chairs, made up all the furniture in the room save +for a square of Wilton carpet in the centre. The boards round and +the panelling of the walls were of brown, worm-eaten oak, so old +and discoloured that it may have dated from the original building +of the house. Holmes drew one of the chairs into a corner and sat +silent, while his eyes travelled round and round and up and down, +taking in every detail of the apartment. + +"Where does that bell communicate with?" he asked at last +pointing to a thick bell-rope which hung down beside the bed, the +tassel actually lying upon the pillow. + +"It goes to the housekeeper's room." + +"It looks newer than the other things?" + +"Yes, it was only put there a couple of years ago." + +"Your sister asked for it, I suppose?" + +"No, I never heard of her using it. We used always to get what we +wanted for ourselves." + +"Indeed, it seemed unnecessary to put so nice a bell-pull there. +You will excuse me for a few minutes while I satisfy myself as to +this floor." He threw himself down upon his face with his lens in +his hand and crawled swiftly backward and forward, examining +minutely the cracks between the boards. Then he did the same with +the wood-work with which the chamber was panelled. Finally he +walked over to the bed and spent some time in staring at it and +in running his eye up and down the wall. Finally he took the +bell-rope in his hand and gave it a brisk tug. + +"Why, it's a dummy," said he. + +"Won't it ring?" + +"No, it is not even attached to a wire. This is very interesting. +You can see now that it is fastened to a hook just above where +the little opening for the ventilator is." + +"How very absurd! I never noticed that before." + +"Very strange!" muttered Holmes, pulling at the rope. "There are +one or two very singular points about this room. For example, +what a fool a builder must be to open a ventilator into another +room, when, with the same trouble, he might have communicated +with the outside air!" + +"That is also quite modern," said the lady. + +"Done about the same time as the bell-rope?" remarked Holmes. + +"Yes, there were several little changes carried out about that +time." + +"They seem to have been of a most interesting character--dummy +bell-ropes, and ventilators which do not ventilate. With your +permission, Miss Stoner, we shall now carry our researches into +the inner apartment." + +Dr. Grimesby Roylott's chamber was larger than that of his +step-daughter, but was as plainly furnished. A camp-bed, a small +wooden shelf full of books, mostly of a technical character, an +armchair beside the bed, a plain wooden chair against the wall, a +round table, and a large iron safe were the principal things +which met the eye. Holmes walked slowly round and examined each +and all of them with the keenest interest. + +"What's in here?" he asked, tapping the safe. + +"My stepfather's business papers." + +"Oh! you have seen inside, then?" + +"Only once, some years ago. I remember that it was full of +papers." + +"There isn't a cat in it, for example?" + +"No. What a strange idea!" + +"Well, look at this!" He took up a small saucer of milk which +stood on the top of it. + +"No; we don't keep a cat. But there is a cheetah and a baboon." + +"Ah, yes, of course! Well, a cheetah is just a big cat, and yet a +saucer of milk does not go very far in satisfying its wants, I +daresay. There is one point which I should wish to determine." He +squatted down in front of the wooden chair and examined the seat +of it with the greatest attention. + +"Thank you. That is quite settled," said he, rising and putting +his lens in his pocket. "Hullo! Here is something interesting!" + +The object which had caught his eye was a small dog lash hung on +one corner of the bed. The lash, however, was curled upon itself +and tied so as to make a loop of whipcord. + +"What do you make of that, Watson?" + +"It's a common enough lash. But I don't know why it should be +tied." + +"That is not quite so common, is it? Ah, me! it's a wicked world, +and when a clever man turns his brains to crime it is the worst +of all. I think that I have seen enough now, Miss Stoner, and +with your permission we shall walk out upon the lawn." + +I had never seen my friend's face so grim or his brow so dark as +it was when we turned from the scene of this investigation. We +had walked several times up and down the lawn, neither Miss +Stoner nor myself liking to break in upon his thoughts before he +roused himself from his reverie. + +"It is very essential, Miss Stoner," said he, "that you should +absolutely follow my advice in every respect." + +"I shall most certainly do so." + +"The matter is too serious for any hesitation. Your life may +depend upon your compliance." + +"I assure you that I am in your hands." + +"In the first place, both my friend and I must spend the night in +your room." + +Both Miss Stoner and I gazed at him in astonishment. + +"Yes, it must be so. Let me explain. I believe that that is the +village inn over there?" + +"Yes, that is the Crown." + +"Very good. Your windows would be visible from there?" + +"Certainly." + +"You must confine yourself to your room, on pretence of a +headache, when your stepfather comes back. Then when you hear him +retire for the night, you must open the shutters of your window, +undo the hasp, put your lamp there as a signal to us, and then +withdraw quietly with everything which you are likely to want +into the room which you used to occupy. I have no doubt that, in +spite of the repairs, you could manage there for one night." + +"Oh, yes, easily." + +"The rest you will leave in our hands." + +"But what will you do?" + +"We shall spend the night in your room, and we shall investigate +the cause of this noise which has disturbed you." + +"I believe, Mr. Holmes, that you have already made up your mind," +said Miss Stoner, laying her hand upon my companion's sleeve. + +"Perhaps I have." + +"Then, for pity's sake, tell me what was the cause of my sister's +death." + +"I should prefer to have clearer proofs before I speak." + +"You can at least tell me whether my own thought is correct, and +if she died from some sudden fright." + +"No, I do not think so. I think that there was probably some more +tangible cause. And now, Miss Stoner, we must leave you for if +Dr. Roylott returned and saw us our journey would be in vain. +Good-bye, and be brave, for if you will do what I have told you, +you may rest assured that we shall soon drive away the dangers +that threaten you." + +Sherlock Holmes and I had no difficulty in engaging a bedroom and +sitting-room at the Crown Inn. They were on the upper floor, and +from our window we could command a view of the avenue gate, and +of the inhabited wing of Stoke Moran Manor House. At dusk we saw +Dr. Grimesby Roylott drive past, his huge form looming up beside +the little figure of the lad who drove him. The boy had some +slight difficulty in undoing the heavy iron gates, and we heard +the hoarse roar of the doctor's voice and saw the fury with which +he shook his clinched fists at him. The trap drove on, and a few +minutes later we saw a sudden light spring up among the trees as +the lamp was lit in one of the sitting-rooms. + +"Do you know, Watson," said Holmes as we sat together in the +gathering darkness, "I have really some scruples as to taking you +to-night. There is a distinct element of danger." + +"Can I be of assistance?" + +"Your presence might be invaluable." + +"Then I shall certainly come." + +"It is very kind of you." + +"You speak of danger. You have evidently seen more in these rooms +than was visible to me." + +"No, but I fancy that I may have deduced a little more. I imagine +that you saw all that I did." + +"I saw nothing remarkable save the bell-rope, and what purpose +that could answer I confess is more than I can imagine." + +"You saw the ventilator, too?" + +"Yes, but I do not think that it is such a very unusual thing to +have a small opening between two rooms. It was so small that a +rat could hardly pass through." + +"I knew that we should find a ventilator before ever we came to +Stoke Moran." + +"My dear Holmes!" + +"Oh, yes, I did. You remember in her statement she said that her +sister could smell Dr. Roylott's cigar. Now, of course that +suggested at once that there must be a communication between the +two rooms. It could only be a small one, or it would have been +remarked upon at the coroner's inquiry. I deduced a ventilator." + +"But what harm can there be in that?" + +"Well, there is at least a curious coincidence of dates. A +ventilator is made, a cord is hung, and a lady who sleeps in the +bed dies. Does not that strike you?" + +"I cannot as yet see any connection." + +"Did you observe anything very peculiar about that bed?" + +"No." + +"It was clamped to the floor. Did you ever see a bed fastened +like that before?" + +"I cannot say that I have." + +"The lady could not move her bed. It must always be in the same +relative position to the ventilator and to the rope--or so we may +call it, since it was clearly never meant for a bell-pull." + +"Holmes," I cried, "I seem to see dimly what you are hinting at. +We are only just in time to prevent some subtle and horrible +crime." + +"Subtle enough and horrible enough. When a doctor does go wrong +he is the first of criminals. He has nerve and he has knowledge. +Palmer and Pritchard were among the heads of their profession. +This man strikes even deeper, but I think, Watson, that we shall +be able to strike deeper still. But we shall have horrors enough +before the night is over; for goodness' sake let us have a quiet +pipe and turn our minds for a few hours to something more +cheerful." + + +About nine o'clock the light among the trees was extinguished, +and all was dark in the direction of the Manor House. Two hours +passed slowly away, and then, suddenly, just at the stroke of +eleven, a single bright light shone out right in front of us. + +"That is our signal," said Holmes, springing to his feet; "it +comes from the middle window." + +As we passed out he exchanged a few words with the landlord, +explaining that we were going on a late visit to an acquaintance, +and that it was possible that we might spend the night there. A +moment later we were out on the dark road, a chill wind blowing +in our faces, and one yellow light twinkling in front of us +through the gloom to guide us on our sombre errand. + +There was little difficulty in entering the grounds, for +unrepaired breaches gaped in the old park wall. Making our way +among the trees, we reached the lawn, crossed it, and were about +to enter through the window when out from a clump of laurel +bushes there darted what seemed to be a hideous and distorted +child, who threw itself upon the grass with writhing limbs and +then ran swiftly across the lawn into the darkness. + +"My God!" I whispered; "did you see it?" + +Holmes was for the moment as startled as I. His hand closed like +a vice upon my wrist in his agitation. Then he broke into a low +laugh and put his lips to my ear. + +"It is a nice household," he murmured. "That is the baboon." + +I had forgotten the strange pets which the doctor affected. There +was a cheetah, too; perhaps we might find it upon our shoulders +at any moment. I confess that I felt easier in my mind when, +after following Holmes' example and slipping off my shoes, I +found myself inside the bedroom. My companion noiselessly closed +the shutters, moved the lamp onto the table, and cast his eyes +round the room. All was as we had seen it in the daytime. Then +creeping up to me and making a trumpet of his hand, he whispered +into my ear again so gently that it was all that I could do to +distinguish the words: + +"The least sound would be fatal to our plans." + +I nodded to show that I had heard. + +"We must sit without light. He would see it through the +ventilator." + +I nodded again. + +"Do not go asleep; your very life may depend upon it. Have your +pistol ready in case we should need it. I will sit on the side of +the bed, and you in that chair." + +I took out my revolver and laid it on the corner of the table. + +Holmes had brought up a long thin cane, and this he placed upon +the bed beside him. By it he laid the box of matches and the +stump of a candle. Then he turned down the lamp, and we were left +in darkness. + +How shall I ever forget that dreadful vigil? I could not hear a +sound, not even the drawing of a breath, and yet I knew that my +companion sat open-eyed, within a few feet of me, in the same +state of nervous tension in which I was myself. The shutters cut +off the least ray of light, and we waited in absolute darkness. + +From outside came the occasional cry of a night-bird, and once at +our very window a long drawn catlike whine, which told us that +the cheetah was indeed at liberty. Far away we could hear the +deep tones of the parish clock, which boomed out every quarter of +an hour. How long they seemed, those quarters! Twelve struck, and +one and two and three, and still we sat waiting silently for +whatever might befall. + +Suddenly there was the momentary gleam of a light up in the +direction of the ventilator, which vanished immediately, but was +succeeded by a strong smell of burning oil and heated metal. +Someone in the next room had lit a dark-lantern. I heard a gentle +sound of movement, and then all was silent once more, though the +smell grew stronger. For half an hour I sat with straining ears. +Then suddenly another sound became audible--a very gentle, +soothing sound, like that of a small jet of steam escaping +continually from a kettle. The instant that we heard it, Holmes +sprang from the bed, struck a match, and lashed furiously with +his cane at the bell-pull. + +"You see it, Watson?" he yelled. "You see it?" + +But I saw nothing. At the moment when Holmes struck the light I +heard a low, clear whistle, but the sudden glare flashing into my +weary eyes made it impossible for me to tell what it was at which +my friend lashed so savagely. I could, however, see that his face +was deadly pale and filled with horror and loathing. He had +ceased to strike and was gazing up at the ventilator when +suddenly there broke from the silence of the night the most +horrible cry to which I have ever listened. It swelled up louder +and louder, a hoarse yell of pain and fear and anger all mingled +in the one dreadful shriek. They say that away down in the +village, and even in the distant parsonage, that cry raised the +sleepers from their beds. It struck cold to our hearts, and I +stood gazing at Holmes, and he at me, until the last echoes of it +had died away into the silence from which it rose. + +"What can it mean?" I gasped. + +"It means that it is all over," Holmes answered. "And perhaps, +after all, it is for the best. Take your pistol, and we will +enter Dr. Roylott's room." + +With a grave face he lit the lamp and led the way down the +corridor. Twice he struck at the chamber door without any reply +from within. Then he turned the handle and entered, I at his +heels, with the cocked pistol in my hand. + +It was a singular sight which met our eyes. On the table stood a +dark-lantern with the shutter half open, throwing a brilliant +beam of light upon the iron safe, the door of which was ajar. +Beside this table, on the wooden chair, sat Dr. Grimesby Roylott +clad in a long grey dressing-gown, his bare ankles protruding +beneath, and his feet thrust into red heelless Turkish slippers. +Across his lap lay the short stock with the long lash which we +had noticed during the day. His chin was cocked upward and his +eyes were fixed in a dreadful, rigid stare at the corner of the +ceiling. Round his brow he had a peculiar yellow band, with +brownish speckles, which seemed to be bound tightly round his +head. As we entered he made neither sound nor motion. + +"The band! the speckled band!" whispered Holmes. + +I took a step forward. In an instant his strange headgear began +to move, and there reared itself from among his hair the squat +diamond-shaped head and puffed neck of a loathsome serpent. + +"It is a swamp adder!" cried Holmes; "the deadliest snake in +India. He has died within ten seconds of being bitten. Violence +does, in truth, recoil upon the violent, and the schemer falls +into the pit which he digs for another. Let us thrust this +creature back into its den, and we can then remove Miss Stoner to +some place of shelter and let the county police know what has +happened." + +As he spoke he drew the dog-whip swiftly from the dead man's lap, +and throwing the noose round the reptile's neck he drew it from +its horrid perch and, carrying it at arm's length, threw it into +the iron safe, which he closed upon it. + +Such are the true facts of the death of Dr. Grimesby Roylott, of +Stoke Moran. It is not necessary that I should prolong a +narrative which has already run to too great a length by telling +how we broke the sad news to the terrified girl, how we conveyed +her by the morning train to the care of her good aunt at Harrow, +of how the slow process of official inquiry came to the +conclusion that the doctor met his fate while indiscreetly +playing with a dangerous pet. The little which I had yet to learn +of the case was told me by Sherlock Holmes as we travelled back +next day. + +"I had," said he, "come to an entirely erroneous conclusion which +shows, my dear Watson, how dangerous it always is to reason from +insufficient data. The presence of the gipsies, and the use of +the word 'band,' which was used by the poor girl, no doubt, to +explain the appearance which she had caught a hurried glimpse of +by the light of her match, were sufficient to put me upon an +entirely wrong scent. I can only claim the merit that I instantly +reconsidered my position when, however, it became clear to me +that whatever danger threatened an occupant of the room could not +come either from the window or the door. My attention was +speedily drawn, as I have already remarked to you, to this +ventilator, and to the bell-rope which hung down to the bed. The +discovery that this was a dummy, and that the bed was clamped to +the floor, instantly gave rise to the suspicion that the rope was +there as a bridge for something passing through the hole and +coming to the bed. The idea of a snake instantly occurred to me, +and when I coupled it with my knowledge that the doctor was +furnished with a supply of creatures from India, I felt that I +was probably on the right track. The idea of using a form of +poison which could not possibly be discovered by any chemical +test was just such a one as would occur to a clever and ruthless +man who had had an Eastern training. The rapidity with which such +a poison would take effect would also, from his point of view, be +an advantage. It would be a sharp-eyed coroner, indeed, who could +distinguish the two little dark punctures which would show where +the poison fangs had done their work. Then I thought of the +whistle. Of course he must recall the snake before the morning +light revealed it to the victim. He had trained it, probably by +the use of the milk which we saw, to return to him when summoned. +He would put it through this ventilator at the hour that he +thought best, with the certainty that it would crawl down the +rope and land on the bed. It might or might not bite the +occupant, perhaps she might escape every night for a week, but +sooner or later she must fall a victim. + +"I had come to these conclusions before ever I had entered his +room. An inspection of his chair showed me that he had been in +the habit of standing on it, which of course would be necessary +in order that he should reach the ventilator. The sight of the +safe, the saucer of milk, and the loop of whipcord were enough to +finally dispel any doubts which may have remained. The metallic +clang heard by Miss Stoner was obviously caused by her stepfather +hastily closing the door of his safe upon its terrible occupant. +Having once made up my mind, you know the steps which I took in +order to put the matter to the proof. I heard the creature hiss +as I have no doubt that you did also, and I instantly lit the +light and attacked it." + +"With the result of driving it through the ventilator." + +"And also with the result of causing it to turn upon its master +at the other side. Some of the blows of my cane came home and +roused its snakish temper, so that it flew upon the first person +it saw. In this way I am no doubt indirectly responsible for Dr. +Grimesby Roylott's death, and I cannot say that it is likely to +weigh very heavily upon my conscience." + + + +IX. THE ADVENTURE OF THE ENGINEER'S THUMB + +Of all the problems which have been submitted to my friend, Mr. +Sherlock Holmes, for solution during the years of our intimacy, +there were only two which I was the means of introducing to his +notice--that of Mr. Hatherley's thumb, and that of Colonel +Warburton's madness. Of these the latter may have afforded a +finer field for an acute and original observer, but the other was +so strange in its inception and so dramatic in its details that +it may be the more worthy of being placed upon record, even if it +gave my friend fewer openings for those deductive methods of +reasoning by which he achieved such remarkable results. The story +has, I believe, been told more than once in the newspapers, but, +like all such narratives, its effect is much less striking when +set forth en bloc in a single half-column of print than when the +facts slowly evolve before your own eyes, and the mystery clears +gradually away as each new discovery furnishes a step which leads +on to the complete truth. At the time the circumstances made a +deep impression upon me, and the lapse of two years has hardly +served to weaken the effect. + +It was in the summer of '89, not long after my marriage, that the +events occurred which I am now about to summarise. I had returned +to civil practice and had finally abandoned Holmes in his Baker +Street rooms, although I continually visited him and occasionally +even persuaded him to forgo his Bohemian habits so far as to come +and visit us. My practice had steadily increased, and as I +happened to live at no very great distance from Paddington +Station, I got a few patients from among the officials. One of +these, whom I had cured of a painful and lingering disease, was +never weary of advertising my virtues and of endeavouring to send +me on every sufferer over whom he might have any influence. + +One morning, at a little before seven o'clock, I was awakened by +the maid tapping at the door to announce that two men had come +from Paddington and were waiting in the consulting-room. I +dressed hurriedly, for I knew by experience that railway cases +were seldom trivial, and hastened downstairs. As I descended, my +old ally, the guard, came out of the room and closed the door +tightly behind him. + +"I've got him here," he whispered, jerking his thumb over his +shoulder; "he's all right." + +"What is it, then?" I asked, for his manner suggested that it was +some strange creature which he had caged up in my room. + +"It's a new patient," he whispered. "I thought I'd bring him +round myself; then he couldn't slip away. There he is, all safe +and sound. I must go now, Doctor; I have my dooties, just the +same as you." And off he went, this trusty tout, without even +giving me time to thank him. + +I entered my consulting-room and found a gentleman seated by the +table. He was quietly dressed in a suit of heather tweed with a +soft cloth cap which he had laid down upon my books. Round one of +his hands he had a handkerchief wrapped, which was mottled all +over with bloodstains. He was young, not more than +five-and-twenty, I should say, with a strong, masculine face; but +he was exceedingly pale and gave me the impression of a man who +was suffering from some strong agitation, which it took all his +strength of mind to control. + +"I am sorry to knock you up so early, Doctor," said he, "but I +have had a very serious accident during the night. I came in by +train this morning, and on inquiring at Paddington as to where I +might find a doctor, a worthy fellow very kindly escorted me +here. I gave the maid a card, but I see that she has left it upon +the side-table." + +I took it up and glanced at it. "Mr. Victor Hatherley, hydraulic +engineer, 16A, Victoria Street (3rd floor)." That was the name, +style, and abode of my morning visitor. "I regret that I have +kept you waiting," said I, sitting down in my library-chair. "You +are fresh from a night journey, I understand, which is in itself +a monotonous occupation." + +"Oh, my night could not be called monotonous," said he, and +laughed. He laughed very heartily, with a high, ringing note, +leaning back in his chair and shaking his sides. All my medical +instincts rose up against that laugh. + +"Stop it!" I cried; "pull yourself together!" and I poured out +some water from a caraffe. + +It was useless, however. He was off in one of those hysterical +outbursts which come upon a strong nature when some great crisis +is over and gone. Presently he came to himself once more, very +weary and pale-looking. + +"I have been making a fool of myself," he gasped. + +"Not at all. Drink this." I dashed some brandy into the water, +and the colour began to come back to his bloodless cheeks. + +"That's better!" said he. "And now, Doctor, perhaps you would +kindly attend to my thumb, or rather to the place where my thumb +used to be." + +He unwound the handkerchief and held out his hand. It gave even +my hardened nerves a shudder to look at it. There were four +protruding fingers and a horrid red, spongy surface where the +thumb should have been. It had been hacked or torn right out from +the roots. + +"Good heavens!" I cried, "this is a terrible injury. It must have +bled considerably." + +"Yes, it did. I fainted when it was done, and I think that I must +have been senseless for a long time. When I came to I found that +it was still bleeding, so I tied one end of my handkerchief very +tightly round the wrist and braced it up with a twig." + +"Excellent! You should have been a surgeon." + +"It is a question of hydraulics, you see, and came within my own +province." + +"This has been done," said I, examining the wound, "by a very +heavy and sharp instrument." + +"A thing like a cleaver," said he. + +"An accident, I presume?" + +"By no means." + +"What! a murderous attack?" + +"Very murderous indeed." + +"You horrify me." + +I sponged the wound, cleaned it, dressed it, and finally covered +it over with cotton wadding and carbolised bandages. He lay back +without wincing, though he bit his lip from time to time. + +"How is that?" I asked when I had finished. + +"Capital! Between your brandy and your bandage, I feel a new man. +I was very weak, but I have had a good deal to go through." + +"Perhaps you had better not speak of the matter. It is evidently +trying to your nerves." + +"Oh, no, not now. I shall have to tell my tale to the police; +but, between ourselves, if it were not for the convincing +evidence of this wound of mine, I should be surprised if they +believed my statement, for it is a very extraordinary one, and I +have not much in the way of proof with which to back it up; and, +even if they believe me, the clues which I can give them are so +vague that it is a question whether justice will be done." + +"Ha!" cried I, "if it is anything in the nature of a problem +which you desire to see solved, I should strongly recommend you +to come to my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, before you go to the +official police." + +"Oh, I have heard of that fellow," answered my visitor, "and I +should be very glad if he would take the matter up, though of +course I must use the official police as well. Would you give me +an introduction to him?" + +"I'll do better. I'll take you round to him myself." + +"I should be immensely obliged to you." + +"We'll call a cab and go together. We shall just be in time to +have a little breakfast with him. Do you feel equal to it?" + +"Yes; I shall not feel easy until I have told my story." + +"Then my servant will call a cab, and I shall be with you in an +instant." I rushed upstairs, explained the matter shortly to my +wife, and in five minutes was inside a hansom, driving with my +new acquaintance to Baker Street. + +Sherlock Holmes was, as I expected, lounging about his +sitting-room in his dressing-gown, reading the agony column of The +Times and smoking his before-breakfast pipe, which was composed +of all the plugs and dottles left from his smokes of the day +before, all carefully dried and collected on the corner of the +mantelpiece. He received us in his quietly genial fashion, +ordered fresh rashers and eggs, and joined us in a hearty meal. +When it was concluded he settled our new acquaintance upon the +sofa, placed a pillow beneath his head, and laid a glass of +brandy and water within his reach. + +"It is easy to see that your experience has been no common one, +Mr. Hatherley," said he. "Pray, lie down there and make yourself +absolutely at home. Tell us what you can, but stop when you are +tired and keep up your strength with a little stimulant." + +"Thank you," said my patient, "but I have felt another man since +the doctor bandaged me, and I think that your breakfast has +completed the cure. I shall take up as little of your valuable +time as possible, so I shall start at once upon my peculiar +experiences." + +Holmes sat in his big armchair with the weary, heavy-lidded +expression which veiled his keen and eager nature, while I sat +opposite to him, and we listened in silence to the strange story +which our visitor detailed to us. + +"You must know," said he, "that I am an orphan and a bachelor, +residing alone in lodgings in London. By profession I am a +hydraulic engineer, and I have had considerable experience of my +work during the seven years that I was apprenticed to Venner & +Matheson, the well-known firm, of Greenwich. Two years ago, +having served my time, and having also come into a fair sum of +money through my poor father's death, I determined to start in +business for myself and took professional chambers in Victoria +Street. + +"I suppose that everyone finds his first independent start in +business a dreary experience. To me it has been exceptionally so. +During two years I have had three consultations and one small +job, and that is absolutely all that my profession has brought +me. My gross takings amount to 27 pounds 10s. Every day, from +nine in the morning until four in the afternoon, I waited in my +little den, until at last my heart began to sink, and I came to +believe that I should never have any practice at all. + +"Yesterday, however, just as I was thinking of leaving the +office, my clerk entered to say there was a gentleman waiting who +wished to see me upon business. He brought up a card, too, with +the name of 'Colonel Lysander Stark' engraved upon it. Close at +his heels came the colonel himself, a man rather over the middle +size, but of an exceeding thinness. I do not think that I have +ever seen so thin a man. His whole face sharpened away into nose +and chin, and the skin of his cheeks was drawn quite tense over +his outstanding bones. Yet this emaciation seemed to be his +natural habit, and due to no disease, for his eye was bright, his +step brisk, and his bearing assured. He was plainly but neatly +dressed, and his age, I should judge, would be nearer forty than +thirty. + +"'Mr. Hatherley?' said he, with something of a German accent. +'You have been recommended to me, Mr. Hatherley, as being a man +who is not only proficient in his profession but is also discreet +and capable of preserving a secret.' + +"I bowed, feeling as flattered as any young man would at such an +address. 'May I ask who it was who gave me so good a character?' + +"'Well, perhaps it is better that I should not tell you that just +at this moment. I have it from the same source that you are both +an orphan and a bachelor and are residing alone in London.' + +"'That is quite correct,' I answered; 'but you will excuse me if +I say that I cannot see how all this bears upon my professional +qualifications. I understand that it was on a professional matter +that you wished to speak to me?' + +"'Undoubtedly so. But you will find that all I say is really to +the point. I have a professional commission for you, but absolute +secrecy is quite essential--absolute secrecy, you understand, and +of course we may expect that more from a man who is alone than +from one who lives in the bosom of his family.' + +"'If I promise to keep a secret,' said I, 'you may absolutely +depend upon my doing so.' + +"He looked very hard at me as I spoke, and it seemed to me that I +had never seen so suspicious and questioning an eye. + +"'Do you promise, then?' said he at last. + +"'Yes, I promise.' + +"'Absolute and complete silence before, during, and after? No +reference to the matter at all, either in word or writing?' + +"'I have already given you my word.' + +"'Very good.' He suddenly sprang up, and darting like lightning +across the room he flung open the door. The passage outside was +empty. + +"'That's all right,' said he, coming back. 'I know that clerks are +sometimes curious as to their master's affairs. Now we can talk +in safety.' He drew up his chair very close to mine and began to +stare at me again with the same questioning and thoughtful look. + +"A feeling of repulsion, and of something akin to fear had begun +to rise within me at the strange antics of this fleshless man. +Even my dread of losing a client could not restrain me from +showing my impatience. + +"'I beg that you will state your business, sir,' said I; 'my time +is of value.' Heaven forgive me for that last sentence, but the +words came to my lips. + +"'How would fifty guineas for a night's work suit you?' he asked. + +"'Most admirably.' + +"'I say a night's work, but an hour's would be nearer the mark. I +simply want your opinion about a hydraulic stamping machine which +has got out of gear. If you show us what is wrong we shall soon +set it right ourselves. What do you think of such a commission as +that?' + +"'The work appears to be light and the pay munificent.' + +"'Precisely so. We shall want you to come to-night by the last +train.' + +"'Where to?' + +"'To Eyford, in Berkshire. It is a little place near the borders +of Oxfordshire, and within seven miles of Reading. There is a +train from Paddington which would bring you there at about +11:15.' + +"'Very good.' + +"'I shall come down in a carriage to meet you.' + +"'There is a drive, then?' + +"'Yes, our little place is quite out in the country. It is a good +seven miles from Eyford Station.' + +"'Then we can hardly get there before midnight. I suppose there +would be no chance of a train back. I should be compelled to stop +the night.' + +"'Yes, we could easily give you a shake-down.' + +"'That is very awkward. Could I not come at some more convenient +hour?' + +"'We have judged it best that you should come late. It is to +recompense you for any inconvenience that we are paying to you, a +young and unknown man, a fee which would buy an opinion from the +very heads of your profession. Still, of course, if you would +like to draw out of the business, there is plenty of time to do +so.' + +"I thought of the fifty guineas, and of how very useful they +would be to me. 'Not at all,' said I, 'I shall be very happy to +accommodate myself to your wishes. I should like, however, to +understand a little more clearly what it is that you wish me to +do.' + +"'Quite so. It is very natural that the pledge of secrecy which +we have exacted from you should have aroused your curiosity. I +have no wish to commit you to anything without your having it all +laid before you. I suppose that we are absolutely safe from +eavesdroppers?' + +"'Entirely.' + +"'Then the matter stands thus. You are probably aware that +fuller's-earth is a valuable product, and that it is only found +in one or two places in England?' + +"'I have heard so.' + +"'Some little time ago I bought a small place--a very small +place--within ten miles of Reading. I was fortunate enough to +discover that there was a deposit of fuller's-earth in one of my +fields. On examining it, however, I found that this deposit was a +comparatively small one, and that it formed a link between two +very much larger ones upon the right and left--both of them, +however, in the grounds of my neighbours. These good people were +absolutely ignorant that their land contained that which was +quite as valuable as a gold-mine. Naturally, it was to my +interest to buy their land before they discovered its true value, +but unfortunately I had no capital by which I could do this. I +took a few of my friends into the secret, however, and they +suggested that we should quietly and secretly work our own little +deposit and that in this way we should earn the money which would +enable us to buy the neighbouring fields. This we have now been +doing for some time, and in order to help us in our operations we +erected a hydraulic press. This press, as I have already +explained, has got out of order, and we wish your advice upon the +subject. We guard our secret very jealously, however, and if it +once became known that we had hydraulic engineers coming to our +little house, it would soon rouse inquiry, and then, if the facts +came out, it would be good-bye to any chance of getting these +fields and carrying out our plans. That is why I have made you +promise me that you will not tell a human being that you are +going to Eyford to-night. I hope that I make it all plain?' + +"'I quite follow you,' said I. 'The only point which I could not +quite understand was what use you could make of a hydraulic press +in excavating fuller's-earth, which, as I understand, is dug out +like gravel from a pit.' + +"'Ah!' said he carelessly, 'we have our own process. We compress +the earth into bricks, so as to remove them without revealing +what they are. But that is a mere detail. I have taken you fully +into my confidence now, Mr. Hatherley, and I have shown you how I +trust you.' He rose as he spoke. 'I shall expect you, then, at +Eyford at 11:15.' + +"'I shall certainly be there.' + +"'And not a word to a soul.' He looked at me with a last long, +questioning gaze, and then, pressing my hand in a cold, dank +grasp, he hurried from the room. + +"Well, when I came to think it all over in cool blood I was very +much astonished, as you may both think, at this sudden commission +which had been intrusted to me. On the one hand, of course, I was +glad, for the fee was at least tenfold what I should have asked +had I set a price upon my own services, and it was possible that +this order might lead to other ones. On the other hand, the face +and manner of my patron had made an unpleasant impression upon +me, and I could not think that his explanation of the +fuller's-earth was sufficient to explain the necessity for my +coming at midnight, and his extreme anxiety lest I should tell +anyone of my errand. However, I threw all fears to the winds, ate +a hearty supper, drove to Paddington, and started off, having +obeyed to the letter the injunction as to holding my tongue. + +"At Reading I had to change not only my carriage but my station. +However, I was in time for the last train to Eyford, and I +reached the little dim-lit station after eleven o'clock. I was the +only passenger who got out there, and there was no one upon the +platform save a single sleepy porter with a lantern. As I passed +out through the wicket gate, however, I found my acquaintance of +the morning waiting in the shadow upon the other side. Without a +word he grasped my arm and hurried me into a carriage, the door +of which was standing open. He drew up the windows on either +side, tapped on the wood-work, and away we went as fast as the +horse could go." + +"One horse?" interjected Holmes. + +"Yes, only one." + +"Did you observe the colour?" + +"Yes, I saw it by the side-lights when I was stepping into the +carriage. It was a chestnut." + +"Tired-looking or fresh?" + +"Oh, fresh and glossy." + +"Thank you. I am sorry to have interrupted you. Pray continue +your most interesting statement." + +"Away we went then, and we drove for at least an hour. Colonel +Lysander Stark had said that it was only seven miles, but I +should think, from the rate that we seemed to go, and from the +time that we took, that it must have been nearer twelve. He sat +at my side in silence all the time, and I was aware, more than +once when I glanced in his direction, that he was looking at me +with great intensity. The country roads seem to be not very good +in that part of the world, for we lurched and jolted terribly. I +tried to look out of the windows to see something of where we +were, but they were made of frosted glass, and I could make out +nothing save the occasional bright blur of a passing light. Now +and then I hazarded some remark to break the monotony of the +journey, but the colonel answered only in monosyllables, and the +conversation soon flagged. At last, however, the bumping of the +road was exchanged for the crisp smoothness of a gravel-drive, +and the carriage came to a stand. Colonel Lysander Stark sprang +out, and, as I followed after him, pulled me swiftly into a porch +which gaped in front of us. We stepped, as it were, right out of +the carriage and into the hall, so that I failed to catch the +most fleeting glance of the front of the house. The instant that +I had crossed the threshold the door slammed heavily behind us, +and I heard faintly the rattle of the wheels as the carriage +drove away. + +"It was pitch dark inside the house, and the colonel fumbled +about looking for matches and muttering under his breath. +Suddenly a door opened at the other end of the passage, and a +long, golden bar of light shot out in our direction. It grew +broader, and a woman appeared with a lamp in her hand, which she +held above her head, pushing her face forward and peering at us. +I could see that she was pretty, and from the gloss with which +the light shone upon her dark dress I knew that it was a rich +material. She spoke a few words in a foreign tongue in a tone as +though asking a question, and when my companion answered in a +gruff monosyllable she gave such a start that the lamp nearly +fell from her hand. Colonel Stark went up to her, whispered +something in her ear, and then, pushing her back into the room +from whence she had come, he walked towards me again with the +lamp in his hand. + +"'Perhaps you will have the kindness to wait in this room for a +few minutes,' said he, throwing open another door. It was a +quiet, little, plainly furnished room, with a round table in the +centre, on which several German books were scattered. Colonel +Stark laid down the lamp on the top of a harmonium beside the +door. 'I shall not keep you waiting an instant,' said he, and +vanished into the darkness. + +"I glanced at the books upon the table, and in spite of my +ignorance of German I could see that two of them were treatises +on science, the others being volumes of poetry. Then I walked +across to the window, hoping that I might catch some glimpse of +the country-side, but an oak shutter, heavily barred, was folded +across it. It was a wonderfully silent house. There was an old +clock ticking loudly somewhere in the passage, but otherwise +everything was deadly still. A vague feeling of uneasiness began +to steal over me. Who were these German people, and what were +they doing living in this strange, out-of-the-way place? And +where was the place? I was ten miles or so from Eyford, that was +all I knew, but whether north, south, east, or west I had no +idea. For that matter, Reading, and possibly other large towns, +were within that radius, so the place might not be so secluded, +after all. Yet it was quite certain, from the absolute stillness, +that we were in the country. I paced up and down the room, +humming a tune under my breath to keep up my spirits and feeling +that I was thoroughly earning my fifty-guinea fee. + +"Suddenly, without any preliminary sound in the midst of the +utter stillness, the door of my room swung slowly open. The woman +was standing in the aperture, the darkness of the hall behind +her, the yellow light from my lamp beating upon her eager and +beautiful face. I could see at a glance that she was sick with +fear, and the sight sent a chill to my own heart. She held up one +shaking finger to warn me to be silent, and she shot a few +whispered words of broken English at me, her eyes glancing back, +like those of a frightened horse, into the gloom behind her. + +"'I would go,' said she, trying hard, as it seemed to me, to +speak calmly; 'I would go. I should not stay here. There is no +good for you to do.' + +"'But, madam,' said I, 'I have not yet done what I came for. I +cannot possibly leave until I have seen the machine.' + +"'It is not worth your while to wait,' she went on. 'You can pass +through the door; no one hinders.' And then, seeing that I smiled +and shook my head, she suddenly threw aside her constraint and +made a step forward, with her hands wrung together. 'For the love +of Heaven!' she whispered, 'get away from here before it is too +late!' + +"But I am somewhat headstrong by nature, and the more ready to +engage in an affair when there is some obstacle in the way. I +thought of my fifty-guinea fee, of my wearisome journey, and of +the unpleasant night which seemed to be before me. Was it all to +go for nothing? Why should I slink away without having carried +out my commission, and without the payment which was my due? This +woman might, for all I knew, be a monomaniac. With a stout +bearing, therefore, though her manner had shaken me more than I +cared to confess, I still shook my head and declared my intention +of remaining where I was. She was about to renew her entreaties +when a door slammed overhead, and the sound of several footsteps +was heard upon the stairs. She listened for an instant, threw up +her hands with a despairing gesture, and vanished as suddenly and +as noiselessly as she had come. + +"The newcomers were Colonel Lysander Stark and a short thick man +with a chinchilla beard growing out of the creases of his double +chin, who was introduced to me as Mr. Ferguson. + +"'This is my secretary and manager,' said the colonel. 'By the +way, I was under the impression that I left this door shut just +now. I fear that you have felt the draught.' + +"'On the contrary,' said I, 'I opened the door myself because I +felt the room to be a little close.' + +"He shot one of his suspicious looks at me. 'Perhaps we had +better proceed to business, then,' said he. 'Mr. Ferguson and I +will take you up to see the machine.' + +"'I had better put my hat on, I suppose.' + +"'Oh, no, it is in the house.' + +"'What, you dig fuller's-earth in the house?' + +"'No, no. This is only where we compress it. But never mind that. +All we wish you to do is to examine the machine and to let us +know what is wrong with it.' + +"We went upstairs together, the colonel first with the lamp, the +fat manager and I behind him. It was a labyrinth of an old house, +with corridors, passages, narrow winding staircases, and little +low doors, the thresholds of which were hollowed out by the +generations who had crossed them. There were no carpets and no +signs of any furniture above the ground floor, while the plaster +was peeling off the walls, and the damp was breaking through in +green, unhealthy blotches. I tried to put on as unconcerned an +air as possible, but I had not forgotten the warnings of the +lady, even though I disregarded them, and I kept a keen eye upon +my two companions. Ferguson appeared to be a morose and silent +man, but I could see from the little that he said that he was at +least a fellow-countryman. + +"Colonel Lysander Stark stopped at last before a low door, which +he unlocked. Within was a small, square room, in which the three +of us could hardly get at one time. Ferguson remained outside, +and the colonel ushered me in. + +"'We are now,' said he, 'actually within the hydraulic press, and +it would be a particularly unpleasant thing for us if anyone were +to turn it on. The ceiling of this small chamber is really the +end of the descending piston, and it comes down with the force of +many tons upon this metal floor. There are small lateral columns +of water outside which receive the force, and which transmit and +multiply it in the manner which is familiar to you. The machine +goes readily enough, but there is some stiffness in the working +of it, and it has lost a little of its force. Perhaps you will +have the goodness to look it over and to show us how we can set +it right.' + +"I took the lamp from him, and I examined the machine very +thoroughly. It was indeed a gigantic one, and capable of +exercising enormous pressure. When I passed outside, however, and +pressed down the levers which controlled it, I knew at once by +the whishing sound that there was a slight leakage, which allowed +a regurgitation of water through one of the side cylinders. An +examination showed that one of the india-rubber bands which was +round the head of a driving-rod had shrunk so as not quite to +fill the socket along which it worked. This was clearly the cause +of the loss of power, and I pointed it out to my companions, who +followed my remarks very carefully and asked several practical +questions as to how they should proceed to set it right. When I +had made it clear to them, I returned to the main chamber of the +machine and took a good look at it to satisfy my own curiosity. +It was obvious at a glance that the story of the fuller's-earth +was the merest fabrication, for it would be absurd to suppose +that so powerful an engine could be designed for so inadequate a +purpose. The walls were of wood, but the floor consisted of a +large iron trough, and when I came to examine it I could see a +crust of metallic deposit all over it. I had stooped and was +scraping at this to see exactly what it was when I heard a +muttered exclamation in German and saw the cadaverous face of the +colonel looking down at me. + +"'What are you doing there?' he asked. + +"I felt angry at having been tricked by so elaborate a story as +that which he had told me. 'I was admiring your fuller's-earth,' +said I; 'I think that I should be better able to advise you as to +your machine if I knew what the exact purpose was for which it +was used.' + +"The instant that I uttered the words I regretted the rashness of +my speech. His face set hard, and a baleful light sprang up in +his grey eyes. + +"'Very well,' said he, 'you shall know all about the machine.' He +took a step backward, slammed the little door, and turned the key +in the lock. I rushed towards it and pulled at the handle, but it +was quite secure, and did not give in the least to my kicks and +shoves. 'Hullo!' I yelled. 'Hullo! Colonel! Let me out!' + +"And then suddenly in the silence I heard a sound which sent my +heart into my mouth. It was the clank of the levers and the swish +of the leaking cylinder. He had set the engine at work. The lamp +still stood upon the floor where I had placed it when examining +the trough. By its light I saw that the black ceiling was coming +down upon me, slowly, jerkily, but, as none knew better than +myself, with a force which must within a minute grind me to a +shapeless pulp. I threw myself, screaming, against the door, and +dragged with my nails at the lock. I implored the colonel to let +me out, but the remorseless clanking of the levers drowned my +cries. The ceiling was only a foot or two above my head, and with +my hand upraised I could feel its hard, rough surface. Then it +flashed through my mind that the pain of my death would depend +very much upon the position in which I met it. If I lay on my +face the weight would come upon my spine, and I shuddered to +think of that dreadful snap. Easier the other way, perhaps; and +yet, had I the nerve to lie and look up at that deadly black +shadow wavering down upon me? Already I was unable to stand +erect, when my eye caught something which brought a gush of hope +back to my heart. + +"I have said that though the floor and ceiling were of iron, the +walls were of wood. As I gave a last hurried glance around, I saw +a thin line of yellow light between two of the boards, which +broadened and broadened as a small panel was pushed backward. For +an instant I could hardly believe that here was indeed a door +which led away from death. The next instant I threw myself +through, and lay half-fainting upon the other side. The panel had +closed again behind me, but the crash of the lamp, and a few +moments afterwards the clang of the two slabs of metal, told me +how narrow had been my escape. + +"I was recalled to myself by a frantic plucking at my wrist, and +I found myself lying upon the stone floor of a narrow corridor, +while a woman bent over me and tugged at me with her left hand, +while she held a candle in her right. It was the same good friend +whose warning I had so foolishly rejected. + +"'Come! come!' she cried breathlessly. 'They will be here in a +moment. They will see that you are not there. Oh, do not waste +the so-precious time, but come!' + +"This time, at least, I did not scorn her advice. I staggered to +my feet and ran with her along the corridor and down a winding +stair. The latter led to another broad passage, and just as we +reached it we heard the sound of running feet and the shouting of +two voices, one answering the other from the floor on which we +were and from the one beneath. My guide stopped and looked about +her like one who is at her wit's end. Then she threw open a door +which led into a bedroom, through the window of which the moon +was shining brightly. + +"'It is your only chance,' said she. 'It is high, but it may be +that you can jump it.' + +"As she spoke a light sprang into view at the further end of the +passage, and I saw the lean figure of Colonel Lysander Stark +rushing forward with a lantern in one hand and a weapon like a +butcher's cleaver in the other. I rushed across the bedroom, +flung open the window, and looked out. How quiet and sweet and +wholesome the garden looked in the moonlight, and it could not be +more than thirty feet down. I clambered out upon the sill, but I +hesitated to jump until I should have heard what passed between +my saviour and the ruffian who pursued me. If she were ill-used, +then at any risks I was determined to go back to her assistance. +The thought had hardly flashed through my mind before he was at +the door, pushing his way past her; but she threw her arms round +him and tried to hold him back. + +"'Fritz! Fritz!' she cried in English, 'remember your promise +after the last time. You said it should not be again. He will be +silent! Oh, he will be silent!' + +"'You are mad, Elise!' he shouted, struggling to break away from +her. 'You will be the ruin of us. He has seen too much. Let me +pass, I say!' He dashed her to one side, and, rushing to the +window, cut at me with his heavy weapon. I had let myself go, and +was hanging by the hands to the sill, when his blow fell. I was +conscious of a dull pain, my grip loosened, and I fell into the +garden below. + +"I was shaken but not hurt by the fall; so I picked myself up and +rushed off among the bushes as hard as I could run, for I +understood that I was far from being out of danger yet. Suddenly, +however, as I ran, a deadly dizziness and sickness came over me. +I glanced down at my hand, which was throbbing painfully, and +then, for the first time, saw that my thumb had been cut off and +that the blood was pouring from my wound. I endeavoured to tie my +handkerchief round it, but there came a sudden buzzing in my +ears, and next moment I fell in a dead faint among the +rose-bushes. + +"How long I remained unconscious I cannot tell. It must have been +a very long time, for the moon had sunk, and a bright morning was +breaking when I came to myself. My clothes were all sodden with +dew, and my coat-sleeve was drenched with blood from my wounded +thumb. The smarting of it recalled in an instant all the +particulars of my night's adventure, and I sprang to my feet with +the feeling that I might hardly yet be safe from my pursuers. But +to my astonishment, when I came to look round me, neither house +nor garden were to be seen. I had been lying in an angle of the +hedge close by the highroad, and just a little lower down was a +long building, which proved, upon my approaching it, to be the +very station at which I had arrived upon the previous night. Were +it not for the ugly wound upon my hand, all that had passed +during those dreadful hours might have been an evil dream. + +"Half dazed, I went into the station and asked about the morning +train. There would be one to Reading in less than an hour. The +same porter was on duty, I found, as had been there when I +arrived. I inquired of him whether he had ever heard of Colonel +Lysander Stark. The name was strange to him. Had he observed a +carriage the night before waiting for me? No, he had not. Was +there a police-station anywhere near? There was one about three +miles off. + +"It was too far for me to go, weak and ill as I was. I determined +to wait until I got back to town before telling my story to the +police. It was a little past six when I arrived, so I went first +to have my wound dressed, and then the doctor was kind enough to +bring me along here. I put the case into your hands and shall do +exactly what you advise." + +We both sat in silence for some little time after listening to +this extraordinary narrative. Then Sherlock Holmes pulled down +from the shelf one of the ponderous commonplace books in which he +placed his cuttings. + +"Here is an advertisement which will interest you," said he. "It +appeared in all the papers about a year ago. Listen to this: +'Lost, on the 9th inst., Mr. Jeremiah Hayling, aged +twenty-six, a hydraulic engineer. Left his lodgings at ten +o'clock at night, and has not been heard of since. Was +dressed in,' etc., etc. Ha! That represents the last time that +the colonel needed to have his machine overhauled, I fancy." + +"Good heavens!" cried my patient. "Then that explains what the +girl said." + +"Undoubtedly. It is quite clear that the colonel was a cool and +desperate man, who was absolutely determined that nothing should +stand in the way of his little game, like those out-and-out +pirates who will leave no survivor from a captured ship. Well, +every moment now is precious, so if you feel equal to it we shall +go down to Scotland Yard at once as a preliminary to starting for +Eyford." + +Some three hours or so afterwards we were all in the train +together, bound from Reading to the little Berkshire village. +There were Sherlock Holmes, the hydraulic engineer, Inspector +Bradstreet, of Scotland Yard, a plain-clothes man, and myself. +Bradstreet had spread an ordnance map of the county out upon the +seat and was busy with his compasses drawing a circle with Eyford +for its centre. + +"There you are," said he. "That circle is drawn at a radius of +ten miles from the village. The place we want must be somewhere +near that line. You said ten miles, I think, sir." + +"It was an hour's good drive." + +"And you think that they brought you back all that way when you +were unconscious?" + +"They must have done so. I have a confused memory, too, of having +been lifted and conveyed somewhere." + +"What I cannot understand," said I, "is why they should have +spared you when they found you lying fainting in the garden. +Perhaps the villain was softened by the woman's entreaties." + +"I hardly think that likely. I never saw a more inexorable face +in my life." + +"Oh, we shall soon clear up all that," said Bradstreet. "Well, I +have drawn my circle, and I only wish I knew at what point upon +it the folk that we are in search of are to be found." + +"I think I could lay my finger on it," said Holmes quietly. + +"Really, now!" cried the inspector, "you have formed your +opinion! Come, now, we shall see who agrees with you. I say it is +south, for the country is more deserted there." + +"And I say east," said my patient. + +"I am for west," remarked the plain-clothes man. "There are +several quiet little villages up there." + +"And I am for north," said I, "because there are no hills there, +and our friend says that he did not notice the carriage go up +any." + +"Come," cried the inspector, laughing; "it's a very pretty +diversity of opinion. We have boxed the compass among us. Who do +you give your casting vote to?" + +"You are all wrong." + +"But we can't all be." + +"Oh, yes, you can. This is my point." He placed his finger in the +centre of the circle. "This is where we shall find them." + +"But the twelve-mile drive?" gasped Hatherley. + +"Six out and six back. Nothing simpler. You say yourself that the +horse was fresh and glossy when you got in. How could it be that +if it had gone twelve miles over heavy roads?" + +"Indeed, it is a likely ruse enough," observed Bradstreet +thoughtfully. "Of course there can be no doubt as to the nature +of this gang." + +"None at all," said Holmes. "They are coiners on a large scale, +and have used the machine to form the amalgam which has taken the +place of silver." + +"We have known for some time that a clever gang was at work," +said the inspector. "They have been turning out half-crowns by +the thousand. We even traced them as far as Reading, but could +get no farther, for they had covered their traces in a way that +showed that they were very old hands. But now, thanks to this +lucky chance, I think that we have got them right enough." + +But the inspector was mistaken, for those criminals were not +destined to fall into the hands of justice. As we rolled into +Eyford Station we saw a gigantic column of smoke which streamed +up from behind a small clump of trees in the neighbourhood and +hung like an immense ostrich feather over the landscape. + +"A house on fire?" asked Bradstreet as the train steamed off +again on its way. + +"Yes, sir!" said the station-master. + +"When did it break out?" + +"I hear that it was during the night, sir, but it has got worse, +and the whole place is in a blaze." + +"Whose house is it?" + +"Dr. Becher's." + +"Tell me," broke in the engineer, "is Dr. Becher a German, very +thin, with a long, sharp nose?" + +The station-master laughed heartily. "No, sir, Dr. Becher is an +Englishman, and there isn't a man in the parish who has a +better-lined waistcoat. But he has a gentleman staying with him, +a patient, as I understand, who is a foreigner, and he looks as +if a little good Berkshire beef would do him no harm." + +The station-master had not finished his speech before we were all +hastening in the direction of the fire. The road topped a low +hill, and there was a great widespread whitewashed building in +front of us, spouting fire at every chink and window, while in +the garden in front three fire-engines were vainly striving to +keep the flames under. + +"That's it!" cried Hatherley, in intense excitement. "There is +the gravel-drive, and there are the rose-bushes where I lay. That +second window is the one that I jumped from." + +"Well, at least," said Holmes, "you have had your revenge upon +them. There can be no question that it was your oil-lamp which, +when it was crushed in the press, set fire to the wooden walls, +though no doubt they were too excited in the chase after you to +observe it at the time. Now keep your eyes open in this crowd for +your friends of last night, though I very much fear that they are +a good hundred miles off by now." + +And Holmes' fears came to be realised, for from that day to this +no word has ever been heard either of the beautiful woman, the +sinister German, or the morose Englishman. Early that morning a +peasant had met a cart containing several people and some very +bulky boxes driving rapidly in the direction of Reading, but +there all traces of the fugitives disappeared, and even Holmes' +ingenuity failed ever to discover the least clue as to their +whereabouts. + +The firemen had been much perturbed at the strange arrangements +which they had found within, and still more so by discovering a +newly severed human thumb upon a window-sill of the second floor. +About sunset, however, their efforts were at last successful, and +they subdued the flames, but not before the roof had fallen in, +and the whole place been reduced to such absolute ruin that, save +some twisted cylinders and iron piping, not a trace remained of +the machinery which had cost our unfortunate acquaintance so +dearly. Large masses of nickel and of tin were discovered stored +in an out-house, but no coins were to be found, which may have +explained the presence of those bulky boxes which have been +already referred to. + +How our hydraulic engineer had been conveyed from the garden to +the spot where he recovered his senses might have remained +forever a mystery were it not for the soft mould, which told us a +very plain tale. He had evidently been carried down by two +persons, one of whom had remarkably small feet and the other +unusually large ones. On the whole, it was most probable that the +silent Englishman, being less bold or less murderous than his +companion, had assisted the woman to bear the unconscious man out +of the way of danger. + +"Well," said our engineer ruefully as we took our seats to return +once more to London, "it has been a pretty business for me! I +have lost my thumb and I have lost a fifty-guinea fee, and what +have I gained?" + +"Experience," said Holmes, laughing. "Indirectly it may be of +value, you know; you have only to put it into words to gain the +reputation of being excellent company for the remainder of your +existence." + + + +X. THE ADVENTURE OF THE NOBLE BACHELOR + +The Lord St. Simon marriage, and its curious termination, have +long ceased to be a subject of interest in those exalted circles +in which the unfortunate bridegroom moves. Fresh scandals have +eclipsed it, and their more piquant details have drawn the +gossips away from this four-year-old drama. As I have reason to +believe, however, that the full facts have never been revealed to +the general public, and as my friend Sherlock Holmes had a +considerable share in clearing the matter up, I feel that no +memoir of him would be complete without some little sketch of +this remarkable episode. + +It was a few weeks before my own marriage, during the days when I +was still sharing rooms with Holmes in Baker Street, that he came +home from an afternoon stroll to find a letter on the table +waiting for him. I had remained indoors all day, for the weather +had taken a sudden turn to rain, with high autumnal winds, and +the Jezail bullet which I had brought back in one of my limbs as +a relic of my Afghan campaign throbbed with dull persistence. +With my body in one easy-chair and my legs upon another, I had +surrounded myself with a cloud of newspapers until at last, +saturated with the news of the day, I tossed them all aside and +lay listless, watching the huge crest and monogram upon the +envelope upon the table and wondering lazily who my friend's +noble correspondent could be. + +"Here is a very fashionable epistle," I remarked as he entered. +"Your morning letters, if I remember right, were from a +fish-monger and a tide-waiter." + +"Yes, my correspondence has certainly the charm of variety," he +answered, smiling, "and the humbler are usually the more +interesting. This looks like one of those unwelcome social +summonses which call upon a man either to be bored or to lie." + +He broke the seal and glanced over the contents. + +"Oh, come, it may prove to be something of interest, after all." + +"Not social, then?" + +"No, distinctly professional." + +"And from a noble client?" + +"One of the highest in England." + +"My dear fellow, I congratulate you." + +"I assure you, Watson, without affectation, that the status of my +client is a matter of less moment to me than the interest of his +case. It is just possible, however, that that also may not be +wanting in this new investigation. You have been reading the +papers diligently of late, have you not?" + +"It looks like it," said I ruefully, pointing to a huge bundle in +the corner. "I have had nothing else to do." + +"It is fortunate, for you will perhaps be able to post me up. I +read nothing except the criminal news and the agony column. The +latter is always instructive. But if you have followed recent +events so closely you must have read about Lord St. Simon and his +wedding?" + +"Oh, yes, with the deepest interest." + +"That is well. The letter which I hold in my hand is from Lord +St. Simon. I will read it to you, and in return you must turn +over these papers and let me have whatever bears upon the matter. +This is what he says: + +"'MY DEAR MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES:--Lord Backwater tells me that I +may place implicit reliance upon your judgment and discretion. I +have determined, therefore, to call upon you and to consult you +in reference to the very painful event which has occurred in +connection with my wedding. Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, is +acting already in the matter, but he assures me that he sees no +objection to your co-operation, and that he even thinks that +it might be of some assistance. I will call at four o'clock in +the afternoon, and, should you have any other engagement at that +time, I hope that you will postpone it, as this matter is of +paramount importance. Yours faithfully, ST. SIMON.' + +"It is dated from Grosvenor Mansions, written with a quill pen, +and the noble lord has had the misfortune to get a smear of ink +upon the outer side of his right little finger," remarked Holmes +as he folded up the epistle. + +"He says four o'clock. It is three now. He will be here in an +hour." + +"Then I have just time, with your assistance, to get clear upon +the subject. Turn over those papers and arrange the extracts in +their order of time, while I take a glance as to who our client +is." He picked a red-covered volume from a line of books of +reference beside the mantelpiece. "Here he is," said he, sitting +down and flattening it out upon his knee. "'Lord Robert Walsingham +de Vere St. Simon, second son of the Duke of Balmoral.' Hum! 'Arms: +Azure, three caltrops in chief over a fess sable. Born in 1846.' +He's forty-one years of age, which is mature for marriage. Was +Under-Secretary for the colonies in a late administration. The +Duke, his father, was at one time Secretary for Foreign Affairs. +They inherit Plantagenet blood by direct descent, and Tudor on +the distaff side. Ha! Well, there is nothing very instructive in +all this. I think that I must turn to you Watson, for something +more solid." + +"I have very little difficulty in finding what I want," said I, +"for the facts are quite recent, and the matter struck me as +remarkable. I feared to refer them to you, however, as I knew +that you had an inquiry on hand and that you disliked the +intrusion of other matters." + +"Oh, you mean the little problem of the Grosvenor Square +furniture van. That is quite cleared up now--though, indeed, it +was obvious from the first. Pray give me the results of your +newspaper selections." + +"Here is the first notice which I can find. It is in the personal +column of the Morning Post, and dates, as you see, some weeks +back: 'A marriage has been arranged,' it says, 'and will, if +rumour is correct, very shortly take place, between Lord Robert +St. Simon, second son of the Duke of Balmoral, and Miss Hatty +Doran, the only daughter of Aloysius Doran. Esq., of San +Francisco, Cal., U.S.A.' That is all." + +"Terse and to the point," remarked Holmes, stretching his long, +thin legs towards the fire. + +"There was a paragraph amplifying this in one of the society +papers of the same week. Ah, here it is: 'There will soon be a +call for protection in the marriage market, for the present +free-trade principle appears to tell heavily against our home +product. One by one the management of the noble houses of Great +Britain is passing into the hands of our fair cousins from across +the Atlantic. An important addition has been made during the last +week to the list of the prizes which have been borne away by +these charming invaders. Lord St. Simon, who has shown himself +for over twenty years proof against the little god's arrows, has +now definitely announced his approaching marriage with Miss Hatty +Doran, the fascinating daughter of a California millionaire. Miss +Doran, whose graceful figure and striking face attracted much +attention at the Westbury House festivities, is an only child, +and it is currently reported that her dowry will run to +considerably over the six figures, with expectancies for the +future. As it is an open secret that the Duke of Balmoral has +been compelled to sell his pictures within the last few years, +and as Lord St. Simon has no property of his own save the small +estate of Birchmoor, it is obvious that the Californian heiress +is not the only gainer by an alliance which will enable her to +make the easy and common transition from a Republican lady to a +British peeress.'" + +"Anything else?" asked Holmes, yawning. + +"Oh, yes; plenty. Then there is another note in the Morning Post +to say that the marriage would be an absolutely quiet one, that it +would be at St. George's, Hanover Square, that only half a dozen +intimate friends would be invited, and that the party would +return to the furnished house at Lancaster Gate which has been +taken by Mr. Aloysius Doran. Two days later--that is, on +Wednesday last--there is a curt announcement that the wedding had +taken place, and that the honeymoon would be passed at Lord +Backwater's place, near Petersfield. Those are all the notices +which appeared before the disappearance of the bride." + +"Before the what?" asked Holmes with a start. + +"The vanishing of the lady." + +"When did she vanish, then?" + +"At the wedding breakfast." + +"Indeed. This is more interesting than it promised to be; quite +dramatic, in fact." + +"Yes; it struck me as being a little out of the common." + +"They often vanish before the ceremony, and occasionally during +the honeymoon; but I cannot call to mind anything quite so prompt +as this. Pray let me have the details." + +"I warn you that they are very incomplete." + +"Perhaps we may make them less so." + +"Such as they are, they are set forth in a single article of a +morning paper of yesterday, which I will read to you. It is +headed, 'Singular Occurrence at a Fashionable Wedding': + +"'The family of Lord Robert St. Simon has been thrown into the +greatest consternation by the strange and painful episodes which +have taken place in connection with his wedding. The ceremony, as +shortly announced in the papers of yesterday, occurred on the +previous morning; but it is only now that it has been possible to +confirm the strange rumours which have been so persistently +floating about. In spite of the attempts of the friends to hush +the matter up, so much public attention has now been drawn to it +that no good purpose can be served by affecting to disregard what +is a common subject for conversation. + +"'The ceremony, which was performed at St. George's, Hanover +Square, was a very quiet one, no one being present save the +father of the bride, Mr. Aloysius Doran, the Duchess of Balmoral, +Lord Backwater, Lord Eustace and Lady Clara St. Simon (the +younger brother and sister of the bridegroom), and Lady Alicia +Whittington. The whole party proceeded afterwards to the house of +Mr. Aloysius Doran, at Lancaster Gate, where breakfast had been +prepared. It appears that some little trouble was caused by a +woman, whose name has not been ascertained, who endeavoured to +force her way into the house after the bridal party, alleging +that she had some claim upon Lord St. Simon. It was only after a +painful and prolonged scene that she was ejected by the butler +and the footman. The bride, who had fortunately entered the house +before this unpleasant interruption, had sat down to breakfast +with the rest, when she complained of a sudden indisposition and +retired to her room. Her prolonged absence having caused some +comment, her father followed her, but learned from her maid that +she had only come up to her chamber for an instant, caught up an +ulster and bonnet, and hurried down to the passage. One of the +footmen declared that he had seen a lady leave the house thus +apparelled, but had refused to credit that it was his mistress, +believing her to be with the company. On ascertaining that his +daughter had disappeared, Mr. Aloysius Doran, in conjunction with +the bridegroom, instantly put themselves in communication with +the police, and very energetic inquiries are being made, which +will probably result in a speedy clearing up of this very +singular business. Up to a late hour last night, however, nothing +had transpired as to the whereabouts of the missing lady. There +are rumours of foul play in the matter, and it is said that the +police have caused the arrest of the woman who had caused the +original disturbance, in the belief that, from jealousy or some +other motive, she may have been concerned in the strange +disappearance of the bride.'" + +"And is that all?" + +"Only one little item in another of the morning papers, but it is +a suggestive one." + +"And it is--" + +"That Miss Flora Millar, the lady who had caused the disturbance, +has actually been arrested. It appears that she was formerly a +danseuse at the Allegro, and that she has known the bridegroom +for some years. There are no further particulars, and the whole +case is in your hands now--so far as it has been set forth in the +public press." + +"And an exceedingly interesting case it appears to be. I would +not have missed it for worlds. But there is a ring at the bell, +Watson, and as the clock makes it a few minutes after four, I +have no doubt that this will prove to be our noble client. Do not +dream of going, Watson, for I very much prefer having a witness, +if only as a check to my own memory." + +"Lord Robert St. Simon," announced our page-boy, throwing open +the door. A gentleman entered, with a pleasant, cultured face, +high-nosed and pale, with something perhaps of petulance about +the mouth, and with the steady, well-opened eye of a man whose +pleasant lot it had ever been to command and to be obeyed. His +manner was brisk, and yet his general appearance gave an undue +impression of age, for he had a slight forward stoop and a little +bend of the knees as he walked. His hair, too, as he swept off +his very curly-brimmed hat, was grizzled round the edges and thin +upon the top. As to his dress, it was careful to the verge of +foppishness, with high collar, black frock-coat, white waistcoat, +yellow gloves, patent-leather shoes, and light-coloured gaiters. +He advanced slowly into the room, turning his head from left to +right, and swinging in his right hand the cord which held his +golden eyeglasses. + +"Good-day, Lord St. Simon," said Holmes, rising and bowing. "Pray +take the basket-chair. This is my friend and colleague, Dr. +Watson. Draw up a little to the fire, and we will talk this +matter over." + +"A most painful matter to me, as you can most readily imagine, +Mr. Holmes. I have been cut to the quick. I understand that you +have already managed several delicate cases of this sort, sir, +though I presume that they were hardly from the same class of +society." + +"No, I am descending." + +"I beg pardon." + +"My last client of the sort was a king." + +"Oh, really! I had no idea. And which king?" + +"The King of Scandinavia." + +"What! Had he lost his wife?" + +"You can understand," said Holmes suavely, "that I extend to the +affairs of my other clients the same secrecy which I promise to +you in yours." + +"Of course! Very right! very right! I'm sure I beg pardon. As to +my own case, I am ready to give you any information which may +assist you in forming an opinion." + +"Thank you. I have already learned all that is in the public +prints, nothing more. I presume that I may take it as correct--this +article, for example, as to the disappearance of the bride." + +Lord St. Simon glanced over it. "Yes, it is correct, as far as it +goes." + +"But it needs a great deal of supplementing before anyone could +offer an opinion. I think that I may arrive at my facts most +directly by questioning you." + +"Pray do so." + +"When did you first meet Miss Hatty Doran?" + +"In San Francisco, a year ago." + +"You were travelling in the States?" + +"Yes." + +"Did you become engaged then?" + +"No." + +"But you were on a friendly footing?" + +"I was amused by her society, and she could see that I was +amused." + +"Her father is very rich?" + +"He is said to be the richest man on the Pacific slope." + +"And how did he make his money?" + +"In mining. He had nothing a few years ago. Then he struck gold, +invested it, and came up by leaps and bounds." + +"Now, what is your own impression as to the young lady's--your +wife's character?" + +The nobleman swung his glasses a little faster and stared down +into the fire. "You see, Mr. Holmes," said he, "my wife was +twenty before her father became a rich man. During that time she +ran free in a mining camp and wandered through woods or +mountains, so that her education has come from Nature rather than +from the schoolmaster. She is what we call in England a tomboy, +with a strong nature, wild and free, unfettered by any sort of +traditions. She is impetuous--volcanic, I was about to say. She +is swift in making up her mind and fearless in carrying out her +resolutions. On the other hand, I would not have given her the +name which I have the honour to bear"--he gave a little stately +cough--"had not I thought her to be at bottom a noble woman. I +believe that she is capable of heroic self-sacrifice and that +anything dishonourable would be repugnant to her." + +"Have you her photograph?" + +"I brought this with me." He opened a locket and showed us the +full face of a very lovely woman. It was not a photograph but an +ivory miniature, and the artist had brought out the full effect +of the lustrous black hair, the large dark eyes, and the +exquisite mouth. Holmes gazed long and earnestly at it. Then he +closed the locket and handed it back to Lord St. Simon. + +"The young lady came to London, then, and you renewed your +acquaintance?" + +"Yes, her father brought her over for this last London season. I +met her several times, became engaged to her, and have now +married her." + +"She brought, I understand, a considerable dowry?" + +"A fair dowry. Not more than is usual in my family." + +"And this, of course, remains to you, since the marriage is a +fait accompli?" + +"I really have made no inquiries on the subject." + +"Very naturally not. Did you see Miss Doran on the day before the +wedding?" + +"Yes." + +"Was she in good spirits?" + +"Never better. She kept talking of what we should do in our +future lives." + +"Indeed! That is very interesting. And on the morning of the +wedding?" + +"She was as bright as possible--at least until after the +ceremony." + +"And did you observe any change in her then?" + +"Well, to tell the truth, I saw then the first signs that I had +ever seen that her temper was just a little sharp. The incident +however, was too trivial to relate and can have no possible +bearing upon the case." + +"Pray let us have it, for all that." + +"Oh, it is childish. She dropped her bouquet as we went towards +the vestry. She was passing the front pew at the time, and it +fell over into the pew. There was a moment's delay, but the +gentleman in the pew handed it up to her again, and it did not +appear to be the worse for the fall. Yet when I spoke to her of +the matter, she answered me abruptly; and in the carriage, on our +way home, she seemed absurdly agitated over this trifling cause." + +"Indeed! You say that there was a gentleman in the pew. Some of +the general public were present, then?" + +"Oh, yes. It is impossible to exclude them when the church is +open." + +"This gentleman was not one of your wife's friends?" + +"No, no; I call him a gentleman by courtesy, but he was quite a +common-looking person. I hardly noticed his appearance. But +really I think that we are wandering rather far from the point." + +"Lady St. Simon, then, returned from the wedding in a less +cheerful frame of mind than she had gone to it. What did she do +on re-entering her father's house?" + +"I saw her in conversation with her maid." + +"And who is her maid?" + +"Alice is her name. She is an American and came from California +with her." + +"A confidential servant?" + +"A little too much so. It seemed to me that her mistress allowed +her to take great liberties. Still, of course, in America they +look upon these things in a different way." + +"How long did she speak to this Alice?" + +"Oh, a few minutes. I had something else to think of." + +"You did not overhear what they said?" + +"Lady St. Simon said something about 'jumping a claim.' She was +accustomed to use slang of the kind. I have no idea what she +meant." + +"American slang is very expressive sometimes. And what did your +wife do when she finished speaking to her maid?" + +"She walked into the breakfast-room." + +"On your arm?" + +"No, alone. She was very independent in little matters like that. +Then, after we had sat down for ten minutes or so, she rose +hurriedly, muttered some words of apology, and left the room. She +never came back." + +"But this maid, Alice, as I understand, deposes that she went to +her room, covered her bride's dress with a long ulster, put on a +bonnet, and went out." + +"Quite so. And she was afterwards seen walking into Hyde Park in +company with Flora Millar, a woman who is now in custody, and who +had already made a disturbance at Mr. Doran's house that +morning." + +"Ah, yes. I should like a few particulars as to this young lady, +and your relations to her." + +Lord St. Simon shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows. +"We have been on a friendly footing for some years--I may say on +a very friendly footing. She used to be at the Allegro. I have +not treated her ungenerously, and she had no just cause of +complaint against me, but you know what women are, Mr. Holmes. +Flora was a dear little thing, but exceedingly hot-headed and +devotedly attached to me. She wrote me dreadful letters when she +heard that I was about to be married, and, to tell the truth, the +reason why I had the marriage celebrated so quietly was that I +feared lest there might be a scandal in the church. She came to +Mr. Doran's door just after we returned, and she endeavoured to +push her way in, uttering very abusive expressions towards my +wife, and even threatening her, but I had foreseen the +possibility of something of the sort, and I had two police +fellows there in private clothes, who soon pushed her out again. +She was quiet when she saw that there was no good in making a +row." + +"Did your wife hear all this?" + +"No, thank goodness, she did not." + +"And she was seen walking with this very woman afterwards?" + +"Yes. That is what Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, looks upon as +so serious. It is thought that Flora decoyed my wife out and laid +some terrible trap for her." + +"Well, it is a possible supposition." + +"You think so, too?" + +"I did not say a probable one. But you do not yourself look upon +this as likely?" + +"I do not think Flora would hurt a fly." + +"Still, jealousy is a strange transformer of characters. Pray +what is your own theory as to what took place?" + +"Well, really, I came to seek a theory, not to propound one. I +have given you all the facts. Since you ask me, however, I may +say that it has occurred to me as possible that the excitement of +this affair, the consciousness that she had made so immense a +social stride, had the effect of causing some little nervous +disturbance in my wife." + +"In short, that she had become suddenly deranged?" + +"Well, really, when I consider that she has turned her back--I +will not say upon me, but upon so much that many have aspired to +without success--I can hardly explain it in any other fashion." + +"Well, certainly that is also a conceivable hypothesis," said +Holmes, smiling. "And now, Lord St. Simon, I think that I have +nearly all my data. May I ask whether you were seated at the +breakfast-table so that you could see out of the window?" + +"We could see the other side of the road and the Park." + +"Quite so. Then I do not think that I need to detain you longer. +I shall communicate with you." + +"Should you be fortunate enough to solve this problem," said our +client, rising. + +"I have solved it." + +"Eh? What was that?" + +"I say that I have solved it." + +"Where, then, is my wife?" + +"That is a detail which I shall speedily supply." + +Lord St. Simon shook his head. "I am afraid that it will take +wiser heads than yours or mine," he remarked, and bowing in a +stately, old-fashioned manner he departed. + +"It is very good of Lord St. Simon to honour my head by putting +it on a level with his own," said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. "I +think that I shall have a whisky and soda and a cigar after all +this cross-questioning. I had formed my conclusions as to the +case before our client came into the room." + +"My dear Holmes!" + +"I have notes of several similar cases, though none, as I +remarked before, which were quite as prompt. My whole examination +served to turn my conjecture into a certainty. Circumstantial +evidence is occasionally very convincing, as when you find a +trout in the milk, to quote Thoreau's example." + +"But I have heard all that you have heard." + +"Without, however, the knowledge of pre-existing cases which +serves me so well. There was a parallel instance in Aberdeen some +years back, and something on very much the same lines at Munich +the year after the Franco-Prussian War. It is one of these +cases--but, hullo, here is Lestrade! Good-afternoon, Lestrade! +You will find an extra tumbler upon the sideboard, and there are +cigars in the box." + +The official detective was attired in a pea-jacket and cravat, +which gave him a decidedly nautical appearance, and he carried a +black canvas bag in his hand. With a short greeting he seated +himself and lit the cigar which had been offered to him. + +"What's up, then?" asked Holmes with a twinkle in his eye. "You +look dissatisfied." + +"And I feel dissatisfied. It is this infernal St. Simon marriage +case. I can make neither head nor tail of the business." + +"Really! You surprise me." + +"Who ever heard of such a mixed affair? Every clue seems to slip +through my fingers. I have been at work upon it all day." + +"And very wet it seems to have made you," said Holmes laying his +hand upon the arm of the pea-jacket. + +"Yes, I have been dragging the Serpentine." + +"In heaven's name, what for?" + +"In search of the body of Lady St. Simon." + +Sherlock Holmes leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily. + +"Have you dragged the basin of Trafalgar Square fountain?" he +asked. + +"Why? What do you mean?" + +"Because you have just as good a chance of finding this lady in +the one as in the other." + +Lestrade shot an angry glance at my companion. "I suppose you +know all about it," he snarled. + +"Well, I have only just heard the facts, but my mind is made up." + +"Oh, indeed! Then you think that the Serpentine plays no part in +the matter?" + +"I think it very unlikely." + +"Then perhaps you will kindly explain how it is that we found +this in it?" He opened his bag as he spoke, and tumbled onto the +floor a wedding-dress of watered silk, a pair of white satin +shoes and a bride's wreath and veil, all discoloured and soaked +in water. "There," said he, putting a new wedding-ring upon the +top of the pile. "There is a little nut for you to crack, Master +Holmes." + +"Oh, indeed!" said my friend, blowing blue rings into the air. +"You dragged them from the Serpentine?" + +"No. They were found floating near the margin by a park-keeper. +They have been identified as her clothes, and it seemed to me +that if the clothes were there the body would not be far off." + +"By the same brilliant reasoning, every man's body is to be found +in the neighbourhood of his wardrobe. And pray what did you hope +to arrive at through this?" + +"At some evidence implicating Flora Millar in the disappearance." + +"I am afraid that you will find it difficult." + +"Are you, indeed, now?" cried Lestrade with some bitterness. "I +am afraid, Holmes, that you are not very practical with your +deductions and your inferences. You have made two blunders in as +many minutes. This dress does implicate Miss Flora Millar." + +"And how?" + +"In the dress is a pocket. In the pocket is a card-case. In the +card-case is a note. And here is the very note." He slapped it +down upon the table in front of him. "Listen to this: 'You will +see me when all is ready. Come at once. F.H.M.' Now my theory all +along has been that Lady St. Simon was decoyed away by Flora +Millar, and that she, with confederates, no doubt, was +responsible for her disappearance. Here, signed with her +initials, is the very note which was no doubt quietly slipped +into her hand at the door and which lured her within their +reach." + +"Very good, Lestrade," said Holmes, laughing. "You really are +very fine indeed. Let me see it." He took up the paper in a +listless way, but his attention instantly became riveted, and he +gave a little cry of satisfaction. "This is indeed important," +said he. + +"Ha! you find it so?" + +"Extremely so. I congratulate you warmly." + +Lestrade rose in his triumph and bent his head to look. "Why," he +shrieked, "you're looking at the wrong side!" + +"On the contrary, this is the right side." + +"The right side? You're mad! Here is the note written in pencil +over here." + +"And over here is what appears to be the fragment of a hotel +bill, which interests me deeply." + +"There's nothing in it. I looked at it before," said Lestrade. +"'Oct. 4th, rooms 8s., breakfast 2s. 6d., cocktail 1s., lunch 2s. +6d., glass sherry, 8d.' I see nothing in that." + +"Very likely not. It is most important, all the same. As to the +note, it is important also, or at least the initials are, so I +congratulate you again." + +"I've wasted time enough," said Lestrade, rising. "I believe in +hard work and not in sitting by the fire spinning fine theories. +Good-day, Mr. Holmes, and we shall see which gets to the bottom +of the matter first." He gathered up the garments, thrust them +into the bag, and made for the door. + +"Just one hint to you, Lestrade," drawled Holmes before his rival +vanished; "I will tell you the true solution of the matter. Lady +St. Simon is a myth. There is not, and there never has been, any +such person." + +Lestrade looked sadly at my companion. Then he turned to me, +tapped his forehead three times, shook his head solemnly, and +hurried away. + +He had hardly shut the door behind him when Holmes rose to put on +his overcoat. "There is something in what the fellow says about +outdoor work," he remarked, "so I think, Watson, that I must +leave you to your papers for a little." + +It was after five o'clock when Sherlock Holmes left me, but I had +no time to be lonely, for within an hour there arrived a +confectioner's man with a very large flat box. This he unpacked +with the help of a youth whom he had brought with him, and +presently, to my very great astonishment, a quite epicurean +little cold supper began to be laid out upon our humble +lodging-house mahogany. There were a couple of brace of cold +woodcock, a pheasant, a pate de foie gras pie with a group of +ancient and cobwebby bottles. Having laid out all these luxuries, +my two visitors vanished away, like the genii of the Arabian +Nights, with no explanation save that the things had been paid +for and were ordered to this address. + +Just before nine o'clock Sherlock Holmes stepped briskly into the +room. His features were gravely set, but there was a light in his +eye which made me think that he had not been disappointed in his +conclusions. + +"They have laid the supper, then," he said, rubbing his hands. + +"You seem to expect company. They have laid for five." + +"Yes, I fancy we may have some company dropping in," said he. "I +am surprised that Lord St. Simon has not already arrived. Ha! I +fancy that I hear his step now upon the stairs." + +It was indeed our visitor of the afternoon who came bustling in, +dangling his glasses more vigorously than ever, and with a very +perturbed expression upon his aristocratic features. + +"My messenger reached you, then?" asked Holmes. + +"Yes, and I confess that the contents startled me beyond measure. +Have you good authority for what you say?" + +"The best possible." + +Lord St. Simon sank into a chair and passed his hand over his +forehead. + +"What will the Duke say," he murmured, "when he hears that one of +the family has been subjected to such humiliation?" + +"It is the purest accident. I cannot allow that there is any +humiliation." + +"Ah, you look on these things from another standpoint." + +"I fail to see that anyone is to blame. I can hardly see how the +lady could have acted otherwise, though her abrupt method of +doing it was undoubtedly to be regretted. Having no mother, she +had no one to advise her at such a crisis." + +"It was a slight, sir, a public slight," said Lord St. Simon, +tapping his fingers upon the table. + +"You must make allowance for this poor girl, placed in so +unprecedented a position." + +"I will make no allowance. I am very angry indeed, and I have +been shamefully used." + +"I think that I heard a ring," said Holmes. "Yes, there are steps +on the landing. If I cannot persuade you to take a lenient view +of the matter, Lord St. Simon, I have brought an advocate here +who may be more successful." He opened the door and ushered in a +lady and gentleman. "Lord St. Simon," said he "allow me to +introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Francis Hay Moulton. The lady, I +think, you have already met." + +At the sight of these newcomers our client had sprung from his +seat and stood very erect, with his eyes cast down and his hand +thrust into the breast of his frock-coat, a picture of offended +dignity. The lady had taken a quick step forward and had held out +her hand to him, but he still refused to raise his eyes. It was +as well for his resolution, perhaps, for her pleading face was +one which it was hard to resist. + +"You're angry, Robert," said she. "Well, I guess you have every +cause to be." + +"Pray make no apology to me," said Lord St. Simon bitterly. + +"Oh, yes, I know that I have treated you real bad and that I +should have spoken to you before I went; but I was kind of +rattled, and from the time when I saw Frank here again I just +didn't know what I was doing or saying. I only wonder I didn't +fall down and do a faint right there before the altar." + +"Perhaps, Mrs. Moulton, you would like my friend and me to leave +the room while you explain this matter?" + +"If I may give an opinion," remarked the strange gentleman, +"we've had just a little too much secrecy over this business +already. For my part, I should like all Europe and America to +hear the rights of it." He was a small, wiry, sunburnt man, +clean-shaven, with a sharp face and alert manner. + +"Then I'll tell our story right away," said the lady. "Frank here +and I met in '84, in McQuire's camp, near the Rockies, where pa +was working a claim. We were engaged to each other, Frank and I; +but then one day father struck a rich pocket and made a pile, +while poor Frank here had a claim that petered out and came to +nothing. The richer pa grew the poorer was Frank; so at last pa +wouldn't hear of our engagement lasting any longer, and he took +me away to 'Frisco. Frank wouldn't throw up his hand, though; so +he followed me there, and he saw me without pa knowing anything +about it. It would only have made him mad to know, so we just +fixed it all up for ourselves. Frank said that he would go and +make his pile, too, and never come back to claim me until he had +as much as pa. So then I promised to wait for him to the end of +time and pledged myself not to marry anyone else while he lived. +'Why shouldn't we be married right away, then,' said he, 'and +then I will feel sure of you; and I won't claim to be your +husband until I come back?' Well, we talked it over, and he had +fixed it all up so nicely, with a clergyman all ready in waiting, +that we just did it right there; and then Frank went off to seek +his fortune, and I went back to pa. + +"The next I heard of Frank was that he was in Montana, and then +he went prospecting in Arizona, and then I heard of him from New +Mexico. After that came a long newspaper story about how a +miners' camp had been attacked by Apache Indians, and there was +my Frank's name among the killed. I fainted dead away, and I was +very sick for months after. Pa thought I had a decline and took +me to half the doctors in 'Frisco. Not a word of news came for a +year and more, so that I never doubted that Frank was really +dead. Then Lord St. Simon came to 'Frisco, and we came to London, +and a marriage was arranged, and pa was very pleased, but I felt +all the time that no man on this earth would ever take the place +in my heart that had been given to my poor Frank. + +"Still, if I had married Lord St. Simon, of course I'd have done +my duty by him. We can't command our love, but we can our +actions. I went to the altar with him with the intention to make +him just as good a wife as it was in me to be. But you may +imagine what I felt when, just as I came to the altar rails, I +glanced back and saw Frank standing and looking at me out of the +first pew. I thought it was his ghost at first; but when I looked +again there he was still, with a kind of question in his eyes, as +if to ask me whether I were glad or sorry to see him. I wonder I +didn't drop. I know that everything was turning round, and the +words of the clergyman were just like the buzz of a bee in my +ear. I didn't know what to do. Should I stop the service and make +a scene in the church? I glanced at him again, and he seemed to +know what I was thinking, for he raised his finger to his lips to +tell me to be still. Then I saw him scribble on a piece of paper, +and I knew that he was writing me a note. As I passed his pew on +the way out I dropped my bouquet over to him, and he slipped the +note into my hand when he returned me the flowers. It was only a +line asking me to join him when he made the sign to me to do so. +Of course I never doubted for a moment that my first duty was now +to him, and I determined to do just whatever he might direct. + +"When I got back I told my maid, who had known him in California, +and had always been his friend. I ordered her to say nothing, but +to get a few things packed and my ulster ready. I know I ought to +have spoken to Lord St. Simon, but it was dreadful hard before +his mother and all those great people. I just made up my mind to +run away and explain afterwards. I hadn't been at the table ten +minutes before I saw Frank out of the window at the other side of +the road. He beckoned to me and then began walking into the Park. +I slipped out, put on my things, and followed him. Some woman +came talking something or other about Lord St. Simon to +me--seemed to me from the little I heard as if he had a little +secret of his own before marriage also--but I managed to get away +from her and soon overtook Frank. We got into a cab together, and +away we drove to some lodgings he had taken in Gordon Square, and +that was my true wedding after all those years of waiting. Frank +had been a prisoner among the Apaches, had escaped, came on to +'Frisco, found that I had given him up for dead and had gone to +England, followed me there, and had come upon me at last on the +very morning of my second wedding." + +"I saw it in a paper," explained the American. "It gave the name +and the church but not where the lady lived." + +"Then we had a talk as to what we should do, and Frank was all +for openness, but I was so ashamed of it all that I felt as if I +should like to vanish away and never see any of them again--just +sending a line to pa, perhaps, to show him that I was alive. It +was awful to me to think of all those lords and ladies sitting +round that breakfast-table and waiting for me to come back. So +Frank took my wedding-clothes and things and made a bundle of +them, so that I should not be traced, and dropped them away +somewhere where no one could find them. It is likely that we +should have gone on to Paris to-morrow, only that this good +gentleman, Mr. Holmes, came round to us this evening, though how +he found us is more than I can think, and he showed us very +clearly and kindly that I was wrong and that Frank was right, and +that we should be putting ourselves in the wrong if we were so +secret. Then he offered to give us a chance of talking to Lord +St. Simon alone, and so we came right away round to his rooms at +once. Now, Robert, you have heard it all, and I am very sorry if +I have given you pain, and I hope that you do not think very +meanly of me." + +Lord St. Simon had by no means relaxed his rigid attitude, but +had listened with a frowning brow and a compressed lip to this +long narrative. + +"Excuse me," he said, "but it is not my custom to discuss my most +intimate personal affairs in this public manner." + +"Then you won't forgive me? You won't shake hands before I go?" + +"Oh, certainly, if it would give you any pleasure." He put out +his hand and coldly grasped that which she extended to him. + +"I had hoped," suggested Holmes, "that you would have joined us +in a friendly supper." + +"I think that there you ask a little too much," responded his +Lordship. "I may be forced to acquiesce in these recent +developments, but I can hardly be expected to make merry over +them. I think that with your permission I will now wish you all a +very good-night." He included us all in a sweeping bow and +stalked out of the room. + +"Then I trust that you at least will honour me with your +company," said Sherlock Holmes. "It is always a joy to meet an +American, Mr. Moulton, for I am one of those who believe that the +folly of a monarch and the blundering of a minister in far-gone +years will not prevent our children from being some day citizens +of the same world-wide country under a flag which shall be a +quartering of the Union Jack with the Stars and Stripes." + +"The case has been an interesting one," remarked Holmes when our +visitors had left us, "because it serves to show very clearly how +simple the explanation may be of an affair which at first sight +seems to be almost inexplicable. Nothing could be more natural +than the sequence of events as narrated by this lady, and nothing +stranger than the result when viewed, for instance, by Mr. +Lestrade of Scotland Yard." + +"You were not yourself at fault at all, then?" + +"From the first, two facts were very obvious to me, the one that +the lady had been quite willing to undergo the wedding ceremony, +the other that she had repented of it within a few minutes of +returning home. Obviously something had occurred during the +morning, then, to cause her to change her mind. What could that +something be? She could not have spoken to anyone when she was +out, for she had been in the company of the bridegroom. Had she +seen someone, then? If she had, it must be someone from America +because she had spent so short a time in this country that she +could hardly have allowed anyone to acquire so deep an influence +over her that the mere sight of him would induce her to change +her plans so completely. You see we have already arrived, by a +process of exclusion, at the idea that she might have seen an +American. Then who could this American be, and why should he +possess so much influence over her? It might be a lover; it might +be a husband. Her young womanhood had, I knew, been spent in +rough scenes and under strange conditions. So far I had got +before I ever heard Lord St. Simon's narrative. When he told us +of a man in a pew, of the change in the bride's manner, of so +transparent a device for obtaining a note as the dropping of a +bouquet, of her resort to her confidential maid, and of her very +significant allusion to claim-jumping--which in miners' parlance +means taking possession of that which another person has a prior +claim to--the whole situation became absolutely clear. She had +gone off with a man, and the man was either a lover or was a +previous husband--the chances being in favour of the latter." + +"And how in the world did you find them?" + +"It might have been difficult, but friend Lestrade held +information in his hands the value of which he did not himself +know. The initials were, of course, of the highest importance, +but more valuable still was it to know that within a week he had +settled his bill at one of the most select London hotels." + +"How did you deduce the select?" + +"By the select prices. Eight shillings for a bed and eightpence +for a glass of sherry pointed to one of the most expensive +hotels. There are not many in London which charge at that rate. +In the second one which I visited in Northumberland Avenue, I +learned by an inspection of the book that Francis H. Moulton, an +American gentleman, had left only the day before, and on looking +over the entries against him, I came upon the very items which I +had seen in the duplicate bill. His letters were to be forwarded +to 226 Gordon Square; so thither I travelled, and being fortunate +enough to find the loving couple at home, I ventured to give them +some paternal advice and to point out to them that it would be +better in every way that they should make their position a little +clearer both to the general public and to Lord St. Simon in +particular. I invited them to meet him here, and, as you see, I +made him keep the appointment." + +"But with no very good result," I remarked. "His conduct was +certainly not very gracious." + +"Ah, Watson," said Holmes, smiling, "perhaps you would not be +very gracious either, if, after all the trouble of wooing and +wedding, you found yourself deprived in an instant of wife and of +fortune. I think that we may judge Lord St. Simon very mercifully +and thank our stars that we are never likely to find ourselves in +the same position. Draw your chair up and hand me my violin, for +the only problem we have still to solve is how to while away +these bleak autumnal evenings." + + + +XI. THE ADVENTURE OF THE BERYL CORONET + +"Holmes," said I as I stood one morning in our bow-window looking +down the street, "here is a madman coming along. It seems rather +sad that his relatives should allow him to come out alone." + +My friend rose lazily from his armchair and stood with his hands +in the pockets of his dressing-gown, looking over my shoulder. It +was a bright, crisp February morning, and the snow of the day +before still lay deep upon the ground, shimmering brightly in the +wintry sun. Down the centre of Baker Street it had been ploughed +into a brown crumbly band by the traffic, but at either side and +on the heaped-up edges of the foot-paths it still lay as white as +when it fell. The grey pavement had been cleaned and scraped, but +was still dangerously slippery, so that there were fewer +passengers than usual. Indeed, from the direction of the +Metropolitan Station no one was coming save the single gentleman +whose eccentric conduct had drawn my attention. + +He was a man of about fifty, tall, portly, and imposing, with a +massive, strongly marked face and a commanding figure. He was +dressed in a sombre yet rich style, in black frock-coat, shining +hat, neat brown gaiters, and well-cut pearl-grey trousers. Yet +his actions were in absurd contrast to the dignity of his dress +and features, for he was running hard, with occasional little +springs, such as a weary man gives who is little accustomed to +set any tax upon his legs. As he ran he jerked his hands up and +down, waggled his head, and writhed his face into the most +extraordinary contortions. + +"What on earth can be the matter with him?" I asked. "He is +looking up at the numbers of the houses." + +"I believe that he is coming here," said Holmes, rubbing his +hands. + +"Here?" + +"Yes; I rather think he is coming to consult me professionally. I +think that I recognise the symptoms. Ha! did I not tell you?" As +he spoke, the man, puffing and blowing, rushed at our door and +pulled at our bell until the whole house resounded with the +clanging. + +A few moments later he was in our room, still puffing, still +gesticulating, but with so fixed a look of grief and despair in +his eyes that our smiles were turned in an instant to horror and +pity. For a while he could not get his words out, but swayed his +body and plucked at his hair like one who has been driven to the +extreme limits of his reason. Then, suddenly springing to his +feet, he beat his head against the wall with such force that we +both rushed upon him and tore him away to the centre of the room. +Sherlock Holmes pushed him down into the easy-chair and, sitting +beside him, patted his hand and chatted with him in the easy, +soothing tones which he knew so well how to employ. + +"You have come to me to tell your story, have you not?" said he. +"You are fatigued with your haste. Pray wait until you have +recovered yourself, and then I shall be most happy to look into +any little problem which you may submit to me." + +The man sat for a minute or more with a heaving chest, fighting +against his emotion. Then he passed his handkerchief over his +brow, set his lips tight, and turned his face towards us. + +"No doubt you think me mad?" said he. + +"I see that you have had some great trouble," responded Holmes. + +"God knows I have!--a trouble which is enough to unseat my +reason, so sudden and so terrible is it. Public disgrace I might +have faced, although I am a man whose character has never yet +borne a stain. Private affliction also is the lot of every man; +but the two coming together, and in so frightful a form, have +been enough to shake my very soul. Besides, it is not I alone. +The very noblest in the land may suffer unless some way be found +out of this horrible affair." + +"Pray compose yourself, sir," said Holmes, "and let me have a +clear account of who you are and what it is that has befallen +you." + +"My name," answered our visitor, "is probably familiar to your +ears. I am Alexander Holder, of the banking firm of Holder & +Stevenson, of Threadneedle Street." + +The name was indeed well known to us as belonging to the senior +partner in the second largest private banking concern in the City +of London. What could have happened, then, to bring one of the +foremost citizens of London to this most pitiable pass? We +waited, all curiosity, until with another effort he braced +himself to tell his story. + +"I feel that time is of value," said he; "that is why I hastened +here when the police inspector suggested that I should secure +your co-operation. I came to Baker Street by the Underground and +hurried from there on foot, for the cabs go slowly through this +snow. That is why I was so out of breath, for I am a man who +takes very little exercise. I feel better now, and I will put the +facts before you as shortly and yet as clearly as I can. + +"It is, of course, well known to you that in a successful banking +business as much depends upon our being able to find remunerative +investments for our funds as upon our increasing our connection +and the number of our depositors. One of our most lucrative means +of laying out money is in the shape of loans, where the security +is unimpeachable. We have done a good deal in this direction +during the last few years, and there are many noble families to +whom we have advanced large sums upon the security of their +pictures, libraries, or plate. + +"Yesterday morning I was seated in my office at the bank when a +card was brought in to me by one of the clerks. I started when I +saw the name, for it was that of none other than--well, perhaps +even to you I had better say no more than that it was a name +which is a household word all over the earth--one of the highest, +noblest, most exalted names in England. I was overwhelmed by the +honour and attempted, when he entered, to say so, but he plunged +at once into business with the air of a man who wishes to hurry +quickly through a disagreeable task. + +"'Mr. Holder,' said he, 'I have been informed that you are in the +habit of advancing money.' + +"'The firm does so when the security is good.' I answered. + +"'It is absolutely essential to me,' said he, 'that I should have +50,000 pounds at once. I could, of course, borrow so trifling a +sum ten times over from my friends, but I much prefer to make it +a matter of business and to carry out that business myself. In my +position you can readily understand that it is unwise to place +one's self under obligations.' + +"'For how long, may I ask, do you want this sum?' I asked. + +"'Next Monday I have a large sum due to me, and I shall then most +certainly repay what you advance, with whatever interest you +think it right to charge. But it is very essential to me that the +money should be paid at once.' + +"'I should be happy to advance it without further parley from my +own private purse,' said I, 'were it not that the strain would be +rather more than it could bear. If, on the other hand, I am to do +it in the name of the firm, then in justice to my partner I must +insist that, even in your case, every businesslike precaution +should be taken.' + +"'I should much prefer to have it so,' said he, raising up a +square, black morocco case which he had laid beside his chair. +'You have doubtless heard of the Beryl Coronet?' + +"'One of the most precious public possessions of the empire,' +said I. + +"'Precisely.' He opened the case, and there, imbedded in soft, +flesh-coloured velvet, lay the magnificent piece of jewellery +which he had named. 'There are thirty-nine enormous beryls,' said +he, 'and the price of the gold chasing is incalculable. The +lowest estimate would put the worth of the coronet at double the +sum which I have asked. I am prepared to leave it with you as my +security.' + +"I took the precious case into my hands and looked in some +perplexity from it to my illustrious client. + +"'You doubt its value?' he asked. + +"'Not at all. I only doubt--' + +"'The propriety of my leaving it. You may set your mind at rest +about that. I should not dream of doing so were it not absolutely +certain that I should be able in four days to reclaim it. It is a +pure matter of form. Is the security sufficient?' + +"'Ample.' + +"'You understand, Mr. Holder, that I am giving you a strong proof +of the confidence which I have in you, founded upon all that I +have heard of you. I rely upon you not only to be discreet and to +refrain from all gossip upon the matter but, above all, to +preserve this coronet with every possible precaution because I +need not say that a great public scandal would be caused if any +harm were to befall it. Any injury to it would be almost as +serious as its complete loss, for there are no beryls in the +world to match these, and it would be impossible to replace them. +I leave it with you, however, with every confidence, and I shall +call for it in person on Monday morning.' + +"Seeing that my client was anxious to leave, I said no more but, +calling for my cashier, I ordered him to pay over fifty 1000 +pound notes. When I was alone once more, however, with the +precious case lying upon the table in front of me, I could not +but think with some misgivings of the immense responsibility +which it entailed upon me. There could be no doubt that, as it +was a national possession, a horrible scandal would ensue if any +misfortune should occur to it. I already regretted having ever +consented to take charge of it. However, it was too late to alter +the matter now, so I locked it up in my private safe and turned +once more to my work. + +"When evening came I felt that it would be an imprudence to leave +so precious a thing in the office behind me. Bankers' safes had +been forced before now, and why should not mine be? If so, how +terrible would be the position in which I should find myself! I +determined, therefore, that for the next few days I would always +carry the case backward and forward with me, so that it might +never be really out of my reach. With this intention, I called a +cab and drove out to my house at Streatham, carrying the jewel +with me. I did not breathe freely until I had taken it upstairs +and locked it in the bureau of my dressing-room. + +"And now a word as to my household, Mr. Holmes, for I wish you to +thoroughly understand the situation. My groom and my page sleep +out of the house, and may be set aside altogether. I have three +maid-servants who have been with me a number of years and whose +absolute reliability is quite above suspicion. Another, Lucy +Parr, the second waiting-maid, has only been in my service a few +months. She came with an excellent character, however, and has +always given me satisfaction. She is a very pretty girl and has +attracted admirers who have occasionally hung about the place. +That is the only drawback which we have found to her, but we +believe her to be a thoroughly good girl in every way. + +"So much for the servants. My family itself is so small that it +will not take me long to describe it. I am a widower and have an +only son, Arthur. He has been a disappointment to me, Mr. +Holmes--a grievous disappointment. I have no doubt that I am +myself to blame. People tell me that I have spoiled him. Very +likely I have. When my dear wife died I felt that he was all I +had to love. I could not bear to see the smile fade even for a +moment from his face. I have never denied him a wish. Perhaps it +would have been better for both of us had I been sterner, but I +meant it for the best. + +"It was naturally my intention that he should succeed me in my +business, but he was not of a business turn. He was wild, +wayward, and, to speak the truth, I could not trust him in the +handling of large sums of money. When he was young he became a +member of an aristocratic club, and there, having charming +manners, he was soon the intimate of a number of men with long +purses and expensive habits. He learned to play heavily at cards +and to squander money on the turf, until he had again and again +to come to me and implore me to give him an advance upon his +allowance, that he might settle his debts of honour. He tried +more than once to break away from the dangerous company which he +was keeping, but each time the influence of his friend, Sir +George Burnwell, was enough to draw him back again. + +"And, indeed, I could not wonder that such a man as Sir George +Burnwell should gain an influence over him, for he has frequently +brought him to my house, and I have found myself that I could +hardly resist the fascination of his manner. He is older than +Arthur, a man of the world to his finger-tips, one who had been +everywhere, seen everything, a brilliant talker, and a man of +great personal beauty. Yet when I think of him in cold blood, far +away from the glamour of his presence, I am convinced from his +cynical speech and the look which I have caught in his eyes that +he is one who should be deeply distrusted. So I think, and so, +too, thinks my little Mary, who has a woman's quick insight into +character. + +"And now there is only she to be described. She is my niece; but +when my brother died five years ago and left her alone in the +world I adopted her, and have looked upon her ever since as my +daughter. She is a sunbeam in my house--sweet, loving, beautiful, +a wonderful manager and housekeeper, yet as tender and quiet and +gentle as a woman could be. She is my right hand. I do not know +what I could do without her. In only one matter has she ever gone +against my wishes. Twice my boy has asked her to marry him, for +he loves her devotedly, but each time she has refused him. I +think that if anyone could have drawn him into the right path it +would have been she, and that his marriage might have changed his +whole life; but now, alas! it is too late--forever too late! + +"Now, Mr. Holmes, you know the people who live under my roof, and +I shall continue with my miserable story. + +"When we were taking coffee in the drawing-room that night after +dinner, I told Arthur and Mary my experience, and of the precious +treasure which we had under our roof, suppressing only the name +of my client. Lucy Parr, who had brought in the coffee, had, I am +sure, left the room; but I cannot swear that the door was closed. +Mary and Arthur were much interested and wished to see the famous +coronet, but I thought it better not to disturb it. + +"'Where have you put it?' asked Arthur. + +"'In my own bureau.' + +"'Well, I hope to goodness the house won't be burgled during the +night.' said he. + +"'It is locked up,' I answered. + +"'Oh, any old key will fit that bureau. When I was a youngster I +have opened it myself with the key of the box-room cupboard.' + +"He often had a wild way of talking, so that I thought little of +what he said. He followed me to my room, however, that night with +a very grave face. + +"'Look here, dad,' said he with his eyes cast down, 'can you let +me have 200 pounds?' + +"'No, I cannot!' I answered sharply. 'I have been far too +generous with you in money matters.' + +"'You have been very kind,' said he, 'but I must have this money, +or else I can never show my face inside the club again.' + +"'And a very good thing, too!' I cried. + +"'Yes, but you would not have me leave it a dishonoured man,' +said he. 'I could not bear the disgrace. I must raise the money +in some way, and if you will not let me have it, then I must try +other means.' + +"I was very angry, for this was the third demand during the +month. 'You shall not have a farthing from me,' I cried, on which +he bowed and left the room without another word. + +"When he was gone I unlocked my bureau, made sure that my +treasure was safe, and locked it again. Then I started to go +round the house to see that all was secure--a duty which I +usually leave to Mary but which I thought it well to perform +myself that night. As I came down the stairs I saw Mary herself +at the side window of the hall, which she closed and fastened as +I approached. + +"'Tell me, dad,' said she, looking, I thought, a little +disturbed, 'did you give Lucy, the maid, leave to go out +to-night?' + +"'Certainly not.' + +"'She came in just now by the back door. I have no doubt that she +has only been to the side gate to see someone, but I think that +it is hardly safe and should be stopped.' + +"'You must speak to her in the morning, or I will if you prefer +it. Are you sure that everything is fastened?' + +"'Quite sure, dad.' + +"'Then, good-night.' I kissed her and went up to my bedroom +again, where I was soon asleep. + +"I am endeavouring to tell you everything, Mr. Holmes, which may +have any bearing upon the case, but I beg that you will question +me upon any point which I do not make clear." + +"On the contrary, your statement is singularly lucid." + +"I come to a part of my story now in which I should wish to be +particularly so. I am not a very heavy sleeper, and the anxiety +in my mind tended, no doubt, to make me even less so than usual. +About two in the morning, then, I was awakened by some sound in +the house. It had ceased ere I was wide awake, but it had left an +impression behind it as though a window had gently closed +somewhere. I lay listening with all my ears. Suddenly, to my +horror, there was a distinct sound of footsteps moving softly in +the next room. I slipped out of bed, all palpitating with fear, +and peeped round the corner of my dressing-room door. + +"'Arthur!' I screamed, 'you villain! you thief! How dare you +touch that coronet?' + +"The gas was half up, as I had left it, and my unhappy boy, +dressed only in his shirt and trousers, was standing beside the +light, holding the coronet in his hands. He appeared to be +wrenching at it, or bending it with all his strength. At my cry +he dropped it from his grasp and turned as pale as death. I +snatched it up and examined it. One of the gold corners, with +three of the beryls in it, was missing. + +"'You blackguard!' I shouted, beside myself with rage. 'You have +destroyed it! You have dishonoured me forever! Where are the +jewels which you have stolen?' + +"'Stolen!' he cried. + +"'Yes, thief!' I roared, shaking him by the shoulder. + +"'There are none missing. There cannot be any missing,' said he. + +"'There are three missing. And you know where they are. Must I +call you a liar as well as a thief? Did I not see you trying to +tear off another piece?' + +"'You have called me names enough,' said he, 'I will not stand it +any longer. I shall not say another word about this business, +since you have chosen to insult me. I will leave your house in +the morning and make my own way in the world.' + +"'You shall leave it in the hands of the police!' I cried +half-mad with grief and rage. 'I shall have this matter probed to +the bottom.' + +"'You shall learn nothing from me,' said he with a passion such +as I should not have thought was in his nature. 'If you choose to +call the police, let the police find what they can.' + +"By this time the whole house was astir, for I had raised my +voice in my anger. Mary was the first to rush into my room, and, +at the sight of the coronet and of Arthur's face, she read the +whole story and, with a scream, fell down senseless on the +ground. I sent the house-maid for the police and put the +investigation into their hands at once. When the inspector and a +constable entered the house, Arthur, who had stood sullenly with +his arms folded, asked me whether it was my intention to charge +him with theft. I answered that it had ceased to be a private +matter, but had become a public one, since the ruined coronet was +national property. I was determined that the law should have its +way in everything. + +"'At least,' said he, 'you will not have me arrested at once. It +would be to your advantage as well as mine if I might leave the +house for five minutes.' + +"'That you may get away, or perhaps that you may conceal what you +have stolen,' said I. And then, realising the dreadful position +in which I was placed, I implored him to remember that not only +my honour but that of one who was far greater than I was at +stake; and that he threatened to raise a scandal which would +convulse the nation. He might avert it all if he would but tell +me what he had done with the three missing stones. + +"'You may as well face the matter,' said I; 'you have been caught +in the act, and no confession could make your guilt more heinous. +If you but make such reparation as is in your power, by telling +us where the beryls are, all shall be forgiven and forgotten.' + +"'Keep your forgiveness for those who ask for it,' he answered, +turning away from me with a sneer. I saw that he was too hardened +for any words of mine to influence him. There was but one way for +it. I called in the inspector and gave him into custody. A search +was made at once not only of his person but of his room and of +every portion of the house where he could possibly have concealed +the gems; but no trace of them could be found, nor would the +wretched boy open his mouth for all our persuasions and our +threats. This morning he was removed to a cell, and I, after +going through all the police formalities, have hurried round to +you to implore you to use your skill in unravelling the matter. +The police have openly confessed that they can at present make +nothing of it. You may go to any expense which you think +necessary. I have already offered a reward of 1000 pounds. My +God, what shall I do! I have lost my honour, my gems, and my son +in one night. Oh, what shall I do!" + +He put a hand on either side of his head and rocked himself to +and fro, droning to himself like a child whose grief has got +beyond words. + +Sherlock Holmes sat silent for some few minutes, with his brows +knitted and his eyes fixed upon the fire. + +"Do you receive much company?" he asked. + +"None save my partner with his family and an occasional friend of +Arthur's. Sir George Burnwell has been several times lately. No +one else, I think." + +"Do you go out much in society?" + +"Arthur does. Mary and I stay at home. We neither of us care for +it." + +"That is unusual in a young girl." + +"She is of a quiet nature. Besides, she is not so very young. She +is four-and-twenty." + +"This matter, from what you say, seems to have been a shock to +her also." + +"Terrible! She is even more affected than I." + +"You have neither of you any doubt as to your son's guilt?" + +"How can we have when I saw him with my own eyes with the coronet +in his hands." + +"I hardly consider that a conclusive proof. Was the remainder of +the coronet at all injured?" + +"Yes, it was twisted." + +"Do you not think, then, that he might have been trying to +straighten it?" + +"God bless you! You are doing what you can for him and for me. +But it is too heavy a task. What was he doing there at all? If +his purpose were innocent, why did he not say so?" + +"Precisely. And if it were guilty, why did he not invent a lie? +His silence appears to me to cut both ways. There are several +singular points about the case. What did the police think of the +noise which awoke you from your sleep?" + +"They considered that it might be caused by Arthur's closing his +bedroom door." + +"A likely story! As if a man bent on felony would slam his door +so as to wake a household. What did they say, then, of the +disappearance of these gems?" + +"They are still sounding the planking and probing the furniture +in the hope of finding them." + +"Have they thought of looking outside the house?" + +"Yes, they have shown extraordinary energy. The whole garden has +already been minutely examined." + +"Now, my dear sir," said Holmes, "is it not obvious to you now +that this matter really strikes very much deeper than either you +or the police were at first inclined to think? It appeared to you +to be a simple case; to me it seems exceedingly complex. Consider +what is involved by your theory. You suppose that your son came +down from his bed, went, at great risk, to your dressing-room, +opened your bureau, took out your coronet, broke off by main +force a small portion of it, went off to some other place, +concealed three gems out of the thirty-nine, with such skill that +nobody can find them, and then returned with the other thirty-six +into the room in which he exposed himself to the greatest danger +of being discovered. I ask you now, is such a theory tenable?" + +"But what other is there?" cried the banker with a gesture of +despair. "If his motives were innocent, why does he not explain +them?" + +"It is our task to find that out," replied Holmes; "so now, if +you please, Mr. Holder, we will set off for Streatham together, +and devote an hour to glancing a little more closely into +details." + +My friend insisted upon my accompanying them in their expedition, +which I was eager enough to do, for my curiosity and sympathy +were deeply stirred by the story to which we had listened. I +confess that the guilt of the banker's son appeared to me to be +as obvious as it did to his unhappy father, but still I had such +faith in Holmes' judgment that I felt that there must be some +grounds for hope as long as he was dissatisfied with the accepted +explanation. He hardly spoke a word the whole way out to the +southern suburb, but sat with his chin upon his breast and his +hat drawn over his eyes, sunk in the deepest thought. Our client +appeared to have taken fresh heart at the little glimpse of hope +which had been presented to him, and he even broke into a +desultory chat with me over his business affairs. A short railway +journey and a shorter walk brought us to Fairbank, the modest +residence of the great financier. + +Fairbank was a good-sized square house of white stone, standing +back a little from the road. A double carriage-sweep, with a +snow-clad lawn, stretched down in front to two large iron gates +which closed the entrance. On the right side was a small wooden +thicket, which led into a narrow path between two neat hedges +stretching from the road to the kitchen door, and forming the +tradesmen's entrance. On the left ran a lane which led to the +stables, and was not itself within the grounds at all, being a +public, though little used, thoroughfare. Holmes left us standing +at the door and walked slowly all round the house, across the +front, down the tradesmen's path, and so round by the garden +behind into the stable lane. So long was he that Mr. Holder and I +went into the dining-room and waited by the fire until he should +return. We were sitting there in silence when the door opened and +a young lady came in. She was rather above the middle height, +slim, with dark hair and eyes, which seemed the darker against +the absolute pallor of her skin. I do not think that I have ever +seen such deadly paleness in a woman's face. Her lips, too, were +bloodless, but her eyes were flushed with crying. As she swept +silently into the room she impressed me with a greater sense of +grief than the banker had done in the morning, and it was the +more striking in her as she was evidently a woman of strong +character, with immense capacity for self-restraint. Disregarding +my presence, she went straight to her uncle and passed her hand +over his head with a sweet womanly caress. + +"You have given orders that Arthur should be liberated, have you +not, dad?" she asked. + +"No, no, my girl, the matter must be probed to the bottom." + +"But I am so sure that he is innocent. You know what woman's +instincts are. I know that he has done no harm and that you will +be sorry for having acted so harshly." + +"Why is he silent, then, if he is innocent?" + +"Who knows? Perhaps because he was so angry that you should +suspect him." + +"How could I help suspecting him, when I actually saw him with +the coronet in his hand?" + +"Oh, but he had only picked it up to look at it. Oh, do, do take +my word for it that he is innocent. Let the matter drop and say +no more. It is so dreadful to think of our dear Arthur in +prison!" + +"I shall never let it drop until the gems are found--never, Mary! +Your affection for Arthur blinds you as to the awful consequences +to me. Far from hushing the thing up, I have brought a gentleman +down from London to inquire more deeply into it." + +"This gentleman?" she asked, facing round to me. + +"No, his friend. He wished us to leave him alone. He is round in +the stable lane now." + +"The stable lane?" She raised her dark eyebrows. "What can he +hope to find there? Ah! this, I suppose, is he. I trust, sir, +that you will succeed in proving, what I feel sure is the truth, +that my cousin Arthur is innocent of this crime." + +"I fully share your opinion, and I trust, with you, that we may +prove it," returned Holmes, going back to the mat to knock the +snow from his shoes. "I believe I have the honour of addressing +Miss Mary Holder. Might I ask you a question or two?" + +"Pray do, sir, if it may help to clear this horrible affair up." + +"You heard nothing yourself last night?" + +"Nothing, until my uncle here began to speak loudly. I heard +that, and I came down." + +"You shut up the windows and doors the night before. Did you +fasten all the windows?" + +"Yes." + +"Were they all fastened this morning?" + +"Yes." + +"You have a maid who has a sweetheart? I think that you remarked +to your uncle last night that she had been out to see him?" + +"Yes, and she was the girl who waited in the drawing-room, and +who may have heard uncle's remarks about the coronet." + +"I see. You infer that she may have gone out to tell her +sweetheart, and that the two may have planned the robbery." + +"But what is the good of all these vague theories," cried the +banker impatiently, "when I have told you that I saw Arthur with +the coronet in his hands?" + +"Wait a little, Mr. Holder. We must come back to that. About this +girl, Miss Holder. You saw her return by the kitchen door, I +presume?" + +"Yes; when I went to see if the door was fastened for the night I +met her slipping in. I saw the man, too, in the gloom." + +"Do you know him?" + +"Oh, yes! he is the green-grocer who brings our vegetables round. +His name is Francis Prosper." + +"He stood," said Holmes, "to the left of the door--that is to +say, farther up the path than is necessary to reach the door?" + +"Yes, he did." + +"And he is a man with a wooden leg?" + +Something like fear sprang up in the young lady's expressive +black eyes. "Why, you are like a magician," said she. "How do you +know that?" She smiled, but there was no answering smile in +Holmes' thin, eager face. + +"I should be very glad now to go upstairs," said he. "I shall +probably wish to go over the outside of the house again. Perhaps +I had better take a look at the lower windows before I go up." + +He walked swiftly round from one to the other, pausing only at +the large one which looked from the hall onto the stable lane. +This he opened and made a very careful examination of the sill +with his powerful magnifying lens. "Now we shall go upstairs," +said he at last. + +The banker's dressing-room was a plainly furnished little +chamber, with a grey carpet, a large bureau, and a long mirror. +Holmes went to the bureau first and looked hard at the lock. + +"Which key was used to open it?" he asked. + +"That which my son himself indicated--that of the cupboard of the +lumber-room." + +"Have you it here?" + +"That is it on the dressing-table." + +Sherlock Holmes took it up and opened the bureau. + +"It is a noiseless lock," said he. "It is no wonder that it did +not wake you. This case, I presume, contains the coronet. We must +have a look at it." He opened the case, and taking out the diadem +he laid it upon the table. It was a magnificent specimen of the +jeweller's art, and the thirty-six stones were the finest that I +have ever seen. At one side of the coronet was a cracked edge, +where a corner holding three gems had been torn away. + +"Now, Mr. Holder," said Holmes, "here is the corner which +corresponds to that which has been so unfortunately lost. Might I +beg that you will break it off." + +The banker recoiled in horror. "I should not dream of trying," +said he. + +"Then I will." Holmes suddenly bent his strength upon it, but +without result. "I feel it give a little," said he; "but, though +I am exceptionally strong in the fingers, it would take me all my +time to break it. An ordinary man could not do it. Now, what do +you think would happen if I did break it, Mr. Holder? There would +be a noise like a pistol shot. Do you tell me that all this +happened within a few yards of your bed and that you heard +nothing of it?" + +"I do not know what to think. It is all dark to me." + +"But perhaps it may grow lighter as we go. What do you think, +Miss Holder?" + +"I confess that I still share my uncle's perplexity." + +"Your son had no shoes or slippers on when you saw him?" + +"He had nothing on save only his trousers and shirt." + +"Thank you. We have certainly been favoured with extraordinary +luck during this inquiry, and it will be entirely our own fault +if we do not succeed in clearing the matter up. With your +permission, Mr. Holder, I shall now continue my investigations +outside." + +He went alone, at his own request, for he explained that any +unnecessary footmarks might make his task more difficult. For an +hour or more he was at work, returning at last with his feet +heavy with snow and his features as inscrutable as ever. + +"I think that I have seen now all that there is to see, Mr. +Holder," said he; "I can serve you best by returning to my +rooms." + +"But the gems, Mr. Holmes. Where are they?" + +"I cannot tell." + +The banker wrung his hands. "I shall never see them again!" he +cried. "And my son? You give me hopes?" + +"My opinion is in no way altered." + +"Then, for God's sake, what was this dark business which was +acted in my house last night?" + +"If you can call upon me at my Baker Street rooms to-morrow +morning between nine and ten I shall be happy to do what I can to +make it clearer. I understand that you give me carte blanche to +act for you, provided only that I get back the gems, and that you +place no limit on the sum I may draw." + +"I would give my fortune to have them back." + +"Very good. I shall look into the matter between this and then. +Good-bye; it is just possible that I may have to come over here +again before evening." + +It was obvious to me that my companion's mind was now made up +about the case, although what his conclusions were was more than +I could even dimly imagine. Several times during our homeward +journey I endeavoured to sound him upon the point, but he always +glided away to some other topic, until at last I gave it over in +despair. It was not yet three when we found ourselves in our +rooms once more. He hurried to his chamber and was down again in +a few minutes dressed as a common loafer. With his collar turned +up, his shiny, seedy coat, his red cravat, and his worn boots, he +was a perfect sample of the class. + +"I think that this should do," said he, glancing into the glass +above the fireplace. "I only wish that you could come with me, +Watson, but I fear that it won't do. I may be on the trail in +this matter, or I may be following a will-o'-the-wisp, but I +shall soon know which it is. I hope that I may be back in a few +hours." He cut a slice of beef from the joint upon the sideboard, +sandwiched it between two rounds of bread, and thrusting this +rude meal into his pocket he started off upon his expedition. + +I had just finished my tea when he returned, evidently in +excellent spirits, swinging an old elastic-sided boot in his +hand. He chucked it down into a corner and helped himself to a +cup of tea. + +"I only looked in as I passed," said he. "I am going right on." + +"Where to?" + +"Oh, to the other side of the West End. It may be some time +before I get back. Don't wait up for me in case I should be +late." + +"How are you getting on?" + +"Oh, so so. Nothing to complain of. I have been out to Streatham +since I saw you last, but I did not call at the house. It is a +very sweet little problem, and I would not have missed it for a +good deal. However, I must not sit gossiping here, but must get +these disreputable clothes off and return to my highly +respectable self." + +I could see by his manner that he had stronger reasons for +satisfaction than his words alone would imply. His eyes twinkled, +and there was even a touch of colour upon his sallow cheeks. He +hastened upstairs, and a few minutes later I heard the slam of +the hall door, which told me that he was off once more upon his +congenial hunt. + +I waited until midnight, but there was no sign of his return, so +I retired to my room. It was no uncommon thing for him to be away +for days and nights on end when he was hot upon a scent, so that +his lateness caused me no surprise. I do not know at what hour he +came in, but when I came down to breakfast in the morning there +he was with a cup of coffee in one hand and the paper in the +other, as fresh and trim as possible. + +"You will excuse my beginning without you, Watson," said he, "but +you remember that our client has rather an early appointment this +morning." + +"Why, it is after nine now," I answered. "I should not be +surprised if that were he. I thought I heard a ring." + +It was, indeed, our friend the financier. I was shocked by the +change which had come over him, for his face which was naturally +of a broad and massive mould, was now pinched and fallen in, +while his hair seemed to me at least a shade whiter. He entered +with a weariness and lethargy which was even more painful than +his violence of the morning before, and he dropped heavily into +the armchair which I pushed forward for him. + +"I do not know what I have done to be so severely tried," said +he. "Only two days ago I was a happy and prosperous man, without +a care in the world. Now I am left to a lonely and dishonoured +age. One sorrow comes close upon the heels of another. My niece, +Mary, has deserted me." + +"Deserted you?" + +"Yes. Her bed this morning had not been slept in, her room was +empty, and a note for me lay upon the hall table. I had said to +her last night, in sorrow and not in anger, that if she had +married my boy all might have been well with him. Perhaps it was +thoughtless of me to say so. It is to that remark that she refers +in this note: + +"'MY DEAREST UNCLE:--I feel that I have brought trouble upon you, +and that if I had acted differently this terrible misfortune +might never have occurred. I cannot, with this thought in my +mind, ever again be happy under your roof, and I feel that I must +leave you forever. Do not worry about my future, for that is +provided for; and, above all, do not search for me, for it will +be fruitless labour and an ill-service to me. In life or in +death, I am ever your loving,--MARY.' + +"What could she mean by that note, Mr. Holmes? Do you think it +points to suicide?" + +"No, no, nothing of the kind. It is perhaps the best possible +solution. I trust, Mr. Holder, that you are nearing the end of +your troubles." + +"Ha! You say so! You have heard something, Mr. Holmes; you have +learned something! Where are the gems?" + +"You would not think 1000 pounds apiece an excessive sum for +them?" + +"I would pay ten." + +"That would be unnecessary. Three thousand will cover the matter. +And there is a little reward, I fancy. Have you your check-book? +Here is a pen. Better make it out for 4000 pounds." + +With a dazed face the banker made out the required check. Holmes +walked over to his desk, took out a little triangular piece of +gold with three gems in it, and threw it down upon the table. + +With a shriek of joy our client clutched it up. + +"You have it!" he gasped. "I am saved! I am saved!" + +The reaction of joy was as passionate as his grief had been, and +he hugged his recovered gems to his bosom. + +"There is one other thing you owe, Mr. Holder," said Sherlock +Holmes rather sternly. + +"Owe!" He caught up a pen. "Name the sum, and I will pay it." + +"No, the debt is not to me. You owe a very humble apology to that +noble lad, your son, who has carried himself in this matter as I +should be proud to see my own son do, should I ever chance to +have one." + +"Then it was not Arthur who took them?" + +"I told you yesterday, and I repeat to-day, that it was not." + +"You are sure of it! Then let us hurry to him at once to let him +know that the truth is known." + +"He knows it already. When I had cleared it all up I had an +interview with him, and finding that he would not tell me the +story, I told it to him, on which he had to confess that I was +right and to add the very few details which were not yet quite +clear to me. Your news of this morning, however, may open his +lips." + +"For heaven's sake, tell me, then, what is this extraordinary +mystery!" + +"I will do so, and I will show you the steps by which I reached +it. And let me say to you, first, that which it is hardest for me +to say and for you to hear: there has been an understanding +between Sir George Burnwell and your niece Mary. They have now +fled together." + +"My Mary? Impossible!" + +"It is unfortunately more than possible; it is certain. Neither +you nor your son knew the true character of this man when you +admitted him into your family circle. He is one of the most +dangerous men in England--a ruined gambler, an absolutely +desperate villain, a man without heart or conscience. Your niece +knew nothing of such men. When he breathed his vows to her, as he +had done to a hundred before her, she flattered herself that she +alone had touched his heart. The devil knows best what he said, +but at least she became his tool and was in the habit of seeing +him nearly every evening." + +"I cannot, and I will not, believe it!" cried the banker with an +ashen face. + +"I will tell you, then, what occurred in your house last night. +Your niece, when you had, as she thought, gone to your room, +slipped down and talked to her lover through the window which +leads into the stable lane. His footmarks had pressed right +through the snow, so long had he stood there. She told him of the +coronet. His wicked lust for gold kindled at the news, and he +bent her to his will. I have no doubt that she loved you, but +there are women in whom the love of a lover extinguishes all +other loves, and I think that she must have been one. She had +hardly listened to his instructions when she saw you coming +downstairs, on which she closed the window rapidly and told you +about one of the servants' escapade with her wooden-legged lover, +which was all perfectly true. + +"Your boy, Arthur, went to bed after his interview with you but +he slept badly on account of his uneasiness about his club debts. +In the middle of the night he heard a soft tread pass his door, +so he rose and, looking out, was surprised to see his cousin +walking very stealthily along the passage until she disappeared +into your dressing-room. Petrified with astonishment, the lad +slipped on some clothes and waited there in the dark to see what +would come of this strange affair. Presently she emerged from the +room again, and in the light of the passage-lamp your son saw +that she carried the precious coronet in her hands. She passed +down the stairs, and he, thrilling with horror, ran along and +slipped behind the curtain near your door, whence he could see +what passed in the hall beneath. He saw her stealthily open the +window, hand out the coronet to someone in the gloom, and then +closing it once more hurry back to her room, passing quite close +to where he stood hid behind the curtain. + +"As long as she was on the scene he could not take any action +without a horrible exposure of the woman whom he loved. But the +instant that she was gone he realised how crushing a misfortune +this would be for you, and how all-important it was to set it +right. He rushed down, just as he was, in his bare feet, opened +the window, sprang out into the snow, and ran down the lane, +where he could see a dark figure in the moonlight. Sir George +Burnwell tried to get away, but Arthur caught him, and there was +a struggle between them, your lad tugging at one side of the +coronet, and his opponent at the other. In the scuffle, your son +struck Sir George and cut him over the eye. Then something +suddenly snapped, and your son, finding that he had the coronet +in his hands, rushed back, closed the window, ascended to your +room, and had just observed that the coronet had been twisted in +the struggle and was endeavouring to straighten it when you +appeared upon the scene." + +"Is it possible?" gasped the banker. + +"You then roused his anger by calling him names at a moment when +he felt that he had deserved your warmest thanks. He could not +explain the true state of affairs without betraying one who +certainly deserved little enough consideration at his hands. He +took the more chivalrous view, however, and preserved her +secret." + +"And that was why she shrieked and fainted when she saw the +coronet," cried Mr. Holder. "Oh, my God! what a blind fool I have +been! And his asking to be allowed to go out for five minutes! +The dear fellow wanted to see if the missing piece were at the +scene of the struggle. How cruelly I have misjudged him!" + +"When I arrived at the house," continued Holmes, "I at once went +very carefully round it to observe if there were any traces in +the snow which might help me. I knew that none had fallen since +the evening before, and also that there had been a strong frost +to preserve impressions. I passed along the tradesmen's path, but +found it all trampled down and indistinguishable. Just beyond it, +however, at the far side of the kitchen door, a woman had stood +and talked with a man, whose round impressions on one side showed +that he had a wooden leg. I could even tell that they had been +disturbed, for the woman had run back swiftly to the door, as was +shown by the deep toe and light heel marks, while Wooden-leg had +waited a little, and then had gone away. I thought at the time +that this might be the maid and her sweetheart, of whom you had +already spoken to me, and inquiry showed it was so. I passed +round the garden without seeing anything more than random tracks, +which I took to be the police; but when I got into the stable +lane a very long and complex story was written in the snow in +front of me. + +"There was a double line of tracks of a booted man, and a second +double line which I saw with delight belonged to a man with naked +feet. I was at once convinced from what you had told me that the +latter was your son. The first had walked both ways, but the +other had run swiftly, and as his tread was marked in places over +the depression of the boot, it was obvious that he had passed +after the other. I followed them up and found they led to the +hall window, where Boots had worn all the snow away while +waiting. Then I walked to the other end, which was a hundred +yards or more down the lane. I saw where Boots had faced round, +where the snow was cut up as though there had been a struggle, +and, finally, where a few drops of blood had fallen, to show me +that I was not mistaken. Boots had then run down the lane, and +another little smudge of blood showed that it was he who had been +hurt. When he came to the highroad at the other end, I found that +the pavement had been cleared, so there was an end to that clue. + +"On entering the house, however, I examined, as you remember, the +sill and framework of the hall window with my lens, and I could +at once see that someone had passed out. I could distinguish the +outline of an instep where the wet foot had been placed in coming +in. I was then beginning to be able to form an opinion as to what +had occurred. A man had waited outside the window; someone had +brought the gems; the deed had been overseen by your son; he had +pursued the thief; had struggled with him; they had each tugged +at the coronet, their united strength causing injuries which +neither alone could have effected. He had returned with the +prize, but had left a fragment in the grasp of his opponent. So +far I was clear. The question now was, who was the man and who +was it brought him the coronet? + +"It is an old maxim of mine that when you have excluded the +impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the +truth. Now, I knew that it was not you who had brought it down, +so there only remained your niece and the maids. But if it were +the maids, why should your son allow himself to be accused in +their place? There could be no possible reason. As he loved his +cousin, however, there was an excellent explanation why he should +retain her secret--the more so as the secret was a disgraceful +one. When I remembered that you had seen her at that window, and +how she had fainted on seeing the coronet again, my conjecture +became a certainty. + +"And who could it be who was her confederate? A lover evidently, +for who else could outweigh the love and gratitude which she must +feel to you? I knew that you went out little, and that your +circle of friends was a very limited one. But among them was Sir +George Burnwell. I had heard of him before as being a man of evil +reputation among women. It must have been he who wore those boots +and retained the missing gems. Even though he knew that Arthur +had discovered him, he might still flatter himself that he was +safe, for the lad could not say a word without compromising his +own family. + +"Well, your own good sense will suggest what measures I took +next. I went in the shape of a loafer to Sir George's house, +managed to pick up an acquaintance with his valet, learned that +his master had cut his head the night before, and, finally, at +the expense of six shillings, made all sure by buying a pair of +his cast-off shoes. With these I journeyed down to Streatham and +saw that they exactly fitted the tracks." + +"I saw an ill-dressed vagabond in the lane yesterday evening," +said Mr. Holder. + +"Precisely. It was I. I found that I had my man, so I came home +and changed my clothes. It was a delicate part which I had to +play then, for I saw that a prosecution must be avoided to avert +scandal, and I knew that so astute a villain would see that our +hands were tied in the matter. I went and saw him. At first, of +course, he denied everything. But when I gave him every +particular that had occurred, he tried to bluster and took down a +life-preserver from the wall. I knew my man, however, and I +clapped a pistol to his head before he could strike. Then he +became a little more reasonable. I told him that we would give +him a price for the stones he held--1000 pounds apiece. That +brought out the first signs of grief that he had shown. 'Why, +dash it all!' said he, 'I've let them go at six hundred for the +three!' I soon managed to get the address of the receiver who had +them, on promising him that there would be no prosecution. Off I +set to him, and after much chaffering I got our stones at 1000 +pounds apiece. Then I looked in upon your son, told him that all +was right, and eventually got to my bed about two o'clock, after +what I may call a really hard day's work." + +"A day which has saved England from a great public scandal," said +the banker, rising. "Sir, I cannot find words to thank you, but +you shall not find me ungrateful for what you have done. Your +skill has indeed exceeded all that I have heard of it. And now I +must fly to my dear boy to apologise to him for the wrong which I +have done him. As to what you tell me of poor Mary, it goes to my +very heart. Not even your skill can inform me where she is now." + +"I think that we may safely say," returned Holmes, "that she is +wherever Sir George Burnwell is. It is equally certain, too, that +whatever her sins are, they will soon receive a more than +sufficient punishment." + + + +XII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE COPPER BEECHES + +"To the man who loves art for its own sake," remarked Sherlock +Holmes, tossing aside the advertisement sheet of the Daily +Telegraph, "it is frequently in its least important and lowliest +manifestations that the keenest pleasure is to be derived. It is +pleasant to me to observe, Watson, that you have so far grasped +this truth that in these little records of our cases which you +have been good enough to draw up, and, I am bound to say, +occasionally to embellish, you have given prominence not so much +to the many causes celebres and sensational trials in which I +have figured but rather to those incidents which may have been +trivial in themselves, but which have given room for those +faculties of deduction and of logical synthesis which I have made +my special province." + +"And yet," said I, smiling, "I cannot quite hold myself absolved +from the charge of sensationalism which has been urged against my +records." + +"You have erred, perhaps," he observed, taking up a glowing +cinder with the tongs and lighting with it the long cherry-wood +pipe which was wont to replace his clay when he was in a +disputatious rather than a meditative mood--"you have erred +perhaps in attempting to put colour and life into each of your +statements instead of confining yourself to the task of placing +upon record that severe reasoning from cause to effect which is +really the only notable feature about the thing." + +"It seems to me that I have done you full justice in the matter," +I remarked with some coldness, for I was repelled by the egotism +which I had more than once observed to be a strong factor in my +friend's singular character. + +"No, it is not selfishness or conceit," said he, answering, as +was his wont, my thoughts rather than my words. "If I claim full +justice for my art, it is because it is an impersonal thing--a +thing beyond myself. Crime is common. Logic is rare. Therefore it +is upon the logic rather than upon the crime that you should +dwell. You have degraded what should have been a course of +lectures into a series of tales." + +It was a cold morning of the early spring, and we sat after +breakfast on either side of a cheery fire in the old room at +Baker Street. A thick fog rolled down between the lines of +dun-coloured houses, and the opposing windows loomed like dark, +shapeless blurs through the heavy yellow wreaths. Our gas was lit +and shone on the white cloth and glimmer of china and metal, for +the table had not been cleared yet. Sherlock Holmes had been +silent all the morning, dipping continuously into the +advertisement columns of a succession of papers until at last, +having apparently given up his search, he had emerged in no very +sweet temper to lecture me upon my literary shortcomings. + +"At the same time," he remarked after a pause, during which he +had sat puffing at his long pipe and gazing down into the fire, +"you can hardly be open to a charge of sensationalism, for out of +these cases which you have been so kind as to interest yourself +in, a fair proportion do not treat of crime, in its legal sense, +at all. The small matter in which I endeavoured to help the King +of Bohemia, the singular experience of Miss Mary Sutherland, the +problem connected with the man with the twisted lip, and the +incident of the noble bachelor, were all matters which are +outside the pale of the law. But in avoiding the sensational, I +fear that you may have bordered on the trivial." + +"The end may have been so," I answered, "but the methods I hold +to have been novel and of interest." + +"Pshaw, my dear fellow, what do the public, the great unobservant +public, who could hardly tell a weaver by his tooth or a +compositor by his left thumb, care about the finer shades of +analysis and deduction! But, indeed, if you are trivial, I cannot +blame you, for the days of the great cases are past. Man, or at +least criminal man, has lost all enterprise and originality. As +to my own little practice, it seems to be degenerating into an +agency for recovering lost lead pencils and giving advice to +young ladies from boarding-schools. I think that I have touched +bottom at last, however. This note I had this morning marks my +zero-point, I fancy. Read it!" He tossed a crumpled letter across +to me. + +It was dated from Montague Place upon the preceding evening, and +ran thus: + +"DEAR MR. HOLMES:--I am very anxious to consult you as to whether +I should or should not accept a situation which has been offered +to me as governess. I shall call at half-past ten to-morrow if I +do not inconvenience you. Yours faithfully, + "VIOLET HUNTER." + +"Do you know the young lady?" I asked. + +"Not I." + +"It is half-past ten now." + +"Yes, and I have no doubt that is her ring." + +"It may turn out to be of more interest than you think. You +remember that the affair of the blue carbuncle, which appeared to +be a mere whim at first, developed into a serious investigation. +It may be so in this case, also." + +"Well, let us hope so. But our doubts will very soon be solved, +for here, unless I am much mistaken, is the person in question." + +As he spoke the door opened and a young lady entered the room. +She was plainly but neatly dressed, with a bright, quick face, +freckled like a plover's egg, and with the brisk manner of a +woman who has had her own way to make in the world. + +"You will excuse my troubling you, I am sure," said she, as my +companion rose to greet her, "but I have had a very strange +experience, and as I have no parents or relations of any sort +from whom I could ask advice, I thought that perhaps you would be +kind enough to tell me what I should do." + +"Pray take a seat, Miss Hunter. I shall be happy to do anything +that I can to serve you." + +I could see that Holmes was favourably impressed by the manner +and speech of his new client. He looked her over in his searching +fashion, and then composed himself, with his lids drooping and +his finger-tips together, to listen to her story. + +"I have been a governess for five years," said she, "in the +family of Colonel Spence Munro, but two months ago the colonel +received an appointment at Halifax, in Nova Scotia, and took his +children over to America with him, so that I found myself without +a situation. I advertised, and I answered advertisements, but +without success. At last the little money which I had saved began +to run short, and I was at my wit's end as to what I should do. + +"There is a well-known agency for governesses in the West End +called Westaway's, and there I used to call about once a week in +order to see whether anything had turned up which might suit me. +Westaway was the name of the founder of the business, but it is +really managed by Miss Stoper. She sits in her own little office, +and the ladies who are seeking employment wait in an anteroom, +and are then shown in one by one, when she consults her ledgers +and sees whether she has anything which would suit them. + +"Well, when I called last week I was shown into the little office +as usual, but I found that Miss Stoper was not alone. A +prodigiously stout man with a very smiling face and a great heavy +chin which rolled down in fold upon fold over his throat sat at +her elbow with a pair of glasses on his nose, looking very +earnestly at the ladies who entered. As I came in he gave quite a +jump in his chair and turned quickly to Miss Stoper. + +"'That will do,' said he; 'I could not ask for anything better. +Capital! capital!' He seemed quite enthusiastic and rubbed his +hands together in the most genial fashion. He was such a +comfortable-looking man that it was quite a pleasure to look at +him. + +"'You are looking for a situation, miss?' he asked. + +"'Yes, sir.' + +"'As governess?' + +"'Yes, sir.' + +"'And what salary do you ask?' + +"'I had 4 pounds a month in my last place with Colonel Spence +Munro.' + +"'Oh, tut, tut! sweating--rank sweating!' he cried, throwing his +fat hands out into the air like a man who is in a boiling +passion. 'How could anyone offer so pitiful a sum to a lady with +such attractions and accomplishments?' + +"'My accomplishments, sir, may be less than you imagine,' said I. +'A little French, a little German, music, and drawing--' + +"'Tut, tut!' he cried. 'This is all quite beside the question. +The point is, have you or have you not the bearing and deportment +of a lady? There it is in a nutshell. If you have not, you are +not fitted for the rearing of a child who may some day play a +considerable part in the history of the country. But if you have +why, then, how could any gentleman ask you to condescend to +accept anything under the three figures? Your salary with me, +madam, would commence at 100 pounds a year.' + +"You may imagine, Mr. Holmes, that to me, destitute as I was, +such an offer seemed almost too good to be true. The gentleman, +however, seeing perhaps the look of incredulity upon my face, +opened a pocket-book and took out a note. + +"'It is also my custom,' said he, smiling in the most pleasant +fashion until his eyes were just two little shining slits amid +the white creases of his face, 'to advance to my young ladies +half their salary beforehand, so that they may meet any little +expenses of their journey and their wardrobe.' + +"It seemed to me that I had never met so fascinating and so +thoughtful a man. As I was already in debt to my tradesmen, the +advance was a great convenience, and yet there was something +unnatural about the whole transaction which made me wish to know +a little more before I quite committed myself. + +"'May I ask where you live, sir?' said I. + +"'Hampshire. Charming rural place. The Copper Beeches, five miles +on the far side of Winchester. It is the most lovely country, my +dear young lady, and the dearest old country-house.' + +"'And my duties, sir? I should be glad to know what they would +be.' + +"'One child--one dear little romper just six years old. Oh, if +you could see him killing cockroaches with a slipper! Smack! +smack! smack! Three gone before you could wink!' He leaned back +in his chair and laughed his eyes into his head again. + +"I was a little startled at the nature of the child's amusement, +but the father's laughter made me think that perhaps he was +joking. + +"'My sole duties, then,' I asked, 'are to take charge of a single +child?' + +"'No, no, not the sole, not the sole, my dear young lady,' he +cried. 'Your duty would be, as I am sure your good sense would +suggest, to obey any little commands my wife might give, provided +always that they were such commands as a lady might with +propriety obey. You see no difficulty, heh?' + +"'I should be happy to make myself useful.' + +"'Quite so. In dress now, for example. We are faddy people, you +know--faddy but kind-hearted. If you were asked to wear any dress +which we might give you, you would not object to our little whim. +Heh?' + +"'No,' said I, considerably astonished at his words. + +"'Or to sit here, or sit there, that would not be offensive to +you?' + +"'Oh, no.' + +"'Or to cut your hair quite short before you come to us?' + +"I could hardly believe my ears. As you may observe, Mr. Holmes, +my hair is somewhat luxuriant, and of a rather peculiar tint of +chestnut. It has been considered artistic. I could not dream of +sacrificing it in this offhand fashion. + +"'I am afraid that that is quite impossible,' said I. He had been +watching me eagerly out of his small eyes, and I could see a +shadow pass over his face as I spoke. + +"'I am afraid that it is quite essential,' said he. 'It is a +little fancy of my wife's, and ladies' fancies, you know, madam, +ladies' fancies must be consulted. And so you won't cut your +hair?' + +"'No, sir, I really could not,' I answered firmly. + +"'Ah, very well; then that quite settles the matter. It is a +pity, because in other respects you would really have done very +nicely. In that case, Miss Stoper, I had best inspect a few more +of your young ladies.' + +"The manageress had sat all this while busy with her papers +without a word to either of us, but she glanced at me now with so +much annoyance upon her face that I could not help suspecting +that she had lost a handsome commission through my refusal. + +"'Do you desire your name to be kept upon the books?' she asked. + +"'If you please, Miss Stoper.' + +"'Well, really, it seems rather useless, since you refuse the +most excellent offers in this fashion,' said she sharply. 'You +can hardly expect us to exert ourselves to find another such +opening for you. Good-day to you, Miss Hunter.' She struck a gong +upon the table, and I was shown out by the page. + +"Well, Mr. Holmes, when I got back to my lodgings and found +little enough in the cupboard, and two or three bills upon the +table, I began to ask myself whether I had not done a very +foolish thing. After all, if these people had strange fads and +expected obedience on the most extraordinary matters, they were +at least ready to pay for their eccentricity. Very few +governesses in England are getting 100 pounds a year. Besides, +what use was my hair to me? Many people are improved by wearing +it short and perhaps I should be among the number. Next day I was +inclined to think that I had made a mistake, and by the day after +I was sure of it. I had almost overcome my pride so far as to go +back to the agency and inquire whether the place was still open +when I received this letter from the gentleman himself. I have it +here and I will read it to you: + + "'The Copper Beeches, near Winchester. +"'DEAR MISS HUNTER:--Miss Stoper has very kindly given me your +address, and I write from here to ask you whether you have +reconsidered your decision. My wife is very anxious that you +should come, for she has been much attracted by my description of +you. We are willing to give 30 pounds a quarter, or 120 pounds a +year, so as to recompense you for any little inconvenience which +our fads may cause you. They are not very exacting, after all. My +wife is fond of a particular shade of electric blue and would +like you to wear such a dress indoors in the morning. You need +not, however, go to the expense of purchasing one, as we have one +belonging to my dear daughter Alice (now in Philadelphia), which +would, I should think, fit you very well. Then, as to sitting +here or there, or amusing yourself in any manner indicated, that +need cause you no inconvenience. As regards your hair, it is no +doubt a pity, especially as I could not help remarking its beauty +during our short interview, but I am afraid that I must remain +firm upon this point, and I only hope that the increased salary +may recompense you for the loss. Your duties, as far as the child +is concerned, are very light. Now do try to come, and I shall +meet you with the dog-cart at Winchester. Let me know your train. +Yours faithfully, JEPHRO RUCASTLE.' + +"That is the letter which I have just received, Mr. Holmes, and +my mind is made up that I will accept it. I thought, however, +that before taking the final step I should like to submit the +whole matter to your consideration." + +"Well, Miss Hunter, if your mind is made up, that settles the +question," said Holmes, smiling. + +"But you would not advise me to refuse?" + +"I confess that it is not the situation which I should like to +see a sister of mine apply for." + +"What is the meaning of it all, Mr. Holmes?" + +"Ah, I have no data. I cannot tell. Perhaps you have yourself +formed some opinion?" + +"Well, there seems to me to be only one possible solution. Mr. +Rucastle seemed to be a very kind, good-natured man. Is it not +possible that his wife is a lunatic, that he desires to keep the +matter quiet for fear she should be taken to an asylum, and that +he humours her fancies in every way in order to prevent an +outbreak?" + +"That is a possible solution--in fact, as matters stand, it is +the most probable one. But in any case it does not seem to be a +nice household for a young lady." + +"But the money, Mr. Holmes, the money!" + +"Well, yes, of course the pay is good--too good. That is what +makes me uneasy. Why should they give you 120 pounds a year, when +they could have their pick for 40 pounds? There must be some +strong reason behind." + +"I thought that if I told you the circumstances you would +understand afterwards if I wanted your help. I should feel so +much stronger if I felt that you were at the back of me." + +"Oh, you may carry that feeling away with you. I assure you that +your little problem promises to be the most interesting which has +come my way for some months. There is something distinctly novel +about some of the features. If you should find yourself in doubt +or in danger--" + +"Danger! What danger do you foresee?" + +Holmes shook his head gravely. "It would cease to be a danger if +we could define it," said he. "But at any time, day or night, a +telegram would bring me down to your help." + +"That is enough." She rose briskly from her chair with the +anxiety all swept from her face. "I shall go down to Hampshire +quite easy in my mind now. I shall write to Mr. Rucastle at once, +sacrifice my poor hair to-night, and start for Winchester +to-morrow." With a few grateful words to Holmes she bade us both +good-night and bustled off upon her way. + +"At least," said I as we heard her quick, firm steps descending +the stairs, "she seems to be a young lady who is very well able +to take care of herself." + +"And she would need to be," said Holmes gravely. "I am much +mistaken if we do not hear from her before many days are past." + +It was not very long before my friend's prediction was fulfilled. +A fortnight went by, during which I frequently found my thoughts +turning in her direction and wondering what strange side-alley of +human experience this lonely woman had strayed into. The unusual +salary, the curious conditions, the light duties, all pointed to +something abnormal, though whether a fad or a plot, or whether +the man were a philanthropist or a villain, it was quite beyond +my powers to determine. As to Holmes, I observed that he sat +frequently for half an hour on end, with knitted brows and an +abstracted air, but he swept the matter away with a wave of his +hand when I mentioned it. "Data! data! data!" he cried +impatiently. "I can't make bricks without clay." And yet he would +always wind up by muttering that no sister of his should ever +have accepted such a situation. + +The telegram which we eventually received came late one night +just as I was thinking of turning in and Holmes was settling down +to one of those all-night chemical researches which he frequently +indulged in, when I would leave him stooping over a retort and a +test-tube at night and find him in the same position when I came +down to breakfast in the morning. He opened the yellow envelope, +and then, glancing at the message, threw it across to me. + +"Just look up the trains in Bradshaw," said he, and turned back +to his chemical studies. + +The summons was a brief and urgent one. + +"Please be at the Black Swan Hotel at Winchester at midday +to-morrow," it said. "Do come! I am at my wit's end. HUNTER." + +"Will you come with me?" asked Holmes, glancing up. + +"I should wish to." + +"Just look it up, then." + +"There is a train at half-past nine," said I, glancing over my +Bradshaw. "It is due at Winchester at 11:30." + +"That will do very nicely. Then perhaps I had better postpone my +analysis of the acetones, as we may need to be at our best in the +morning." + +By eleven o'clock the next day we were well upon our way to the +old English capital. Holmes had been buried in the morning papers +all the way down, but after we had passed the Hampshire border he +threw them down and began to admire the scenery. It was an ideal +spring day, a light blue sky, flecked with little fleecy white +clouds drifting across from west to east. The sun was shining +very brightly, and yet there was an exhilarating nip in the air, +which set an edge to a man's energy. All over the countryside, +away to the rolling hills around Aldershot, the little red and +grey roofs of the farm-steadings peeped out from amid the light +green of the new foliage. + +"Are they not fresh and beautiful?" I cried with all the +enthusiasm of a man fresh from the fogs of Baker Street. + +But Holmes shook his head gravely. + +"Do you know, Watson," said he, "that it is one of the curses of +a mind with a turn like mine that I must look at everything with +reference to my own special subject. You look at these scattered +houses, and you are impressed by their beauty. I look at them, +and the only thought which comes to me is a feeling of their +isolation and of the impunity with which crime may be committed +there." + +"Good heavens!" I cried. "Who would associate crime with these +dear old homesteads?" + +"They always fill me with a certain horror. It is my belief, +Watson, founded upon my experience, that the lowest and vilest +alleys in London do not present a more dreadful record of sin +than does the smiling and beautiful countryside." + +"You horrify me!" + +"But the reason is very obvious. The pressure of public opinion +can do in the town what the law cannot accomplish. There is no +lane so vile that the scream of a tortured child, or the thud of +a drunkard's blow, does not beget sympathy and indignation among +the neighbours, and then the whole machinery of justice is ever +so close that a word of complaint can set it going, and there is +but a step between the crime and the dock. But look at these +lonely houses, each in its own fields, filled for the most part +with poor ignorant folk who know little of the law. Think of the +deeds of hellish cruelty, the hidden wickedness which may go on, +year in, year out, in such places, and none the wiser. Had this +lady who appeals to us for help gone to live in Winchester, I +should never have had a fear for her. It is the five miles of +country which makes the danger. Still, it is clear that she is +not personally threatened." + +"No. If she can come to Winchester to meet us she can get away." + +"Quite so. She has her freedom." + +"What CAN be the matter, then? Can you suggest no explanation?" + +"I have devised seven separate explanations, each of which would +cover the facts as far as we know them. But which of these is +correct can only be determined by the fresh information which we +shall no doubt find waiting for us. Well, there is the tower of +the cathedral, and we shall soon learn all that Miss Hunter has +to tell." + +The Black Swan is an inn of repute in the High Street, at no +distance from the station, and there we found the young lady +waiting for us. She had engaged a sitting-room, and our lunch +awaited us upon the table. + +"I am so delighted that you have come," she said earnestly. "It +is so very kind of you both; but indeed I do not know what I +should do. Your advice will be altogether invaluable to me." + +"Pray tell us what has happened to you." + +"I will do so, and I must be quick, for I have promised Mr. +Rucastle to be back before three. I got his leave to come into +town this morning, though he little knew for what purpose." + +"Let us have everything in its due order." Holmes thrust his long +thin legs out towards the fire and composed himself to listen. + +"In the first place, I may say that I have met, on the whole, +with no actual ill-treatment from Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle. It is +only fair to them to say that. But I cannot understand them, and +I am not easy in my mind about them." + +"What can you not understand?" + +"Their reasons for their conduct. But you shall have it all just +as it occurred. When I came down, Mr. Rucastle met me here and +drove me in his dog-cart to the Copper Beeches. It is, as he +said, beautifully situated, but it is not beautiful in itself, +for it is a large square block of a house, whitewashed, but all +stained and streaked with damp and bad weather. There are grounds +round it, woods on three sides, and on the fourth a field which +slopes down to the Southampton highroad, which curves past about +a hundred yards from the front door. This ground in front belongs +to the house, but the woods all round are part of Lord +Southerton's preserves. A clump of copper beeches immediately in +front of the hall door has given its name to the place. + +"I was driven over by my employer, who was as amiable as ever, +and was introduced by him that evening to his wife and the child. +There was no truth, Mr. Holmes, in the conjecture which seemed to +us to be probable in your rooms at Baker Street. Mrs. Rucastle is +not mad. I found her to be a silent, pale-faced woman, much +younger than her husband, not more than thirty, I should think, +while he can hardly be less than forty-five. From their +conversation I have gathered that they have been married about +seven years, that he was a widower, and that his only child by +the first wife was the daughter who has gone to Philadelphia. Mr. +Rucastle told me in private that the reason why she had left them +was that she had an unreasoning aversion to her stepmother. As +the daughter could not have been less than twenty, I can quite +imagine that her position must have been uncomfortable with her +father's young wife. + +"Mrs. Rucastle seemed to me to be colourless in mind as well as +in feature. She impressed me neither favourably nor the reverse. +She was a nonentity. It was easy to see that she was passionately +devoted both to her husband and to her little son. Her light grey +eyes wandered continually from one to the other, noting every +little want and forestalling it if possible. He was kind to her +also in his bluff, boisterous fashion, and on the whole they +seemed to be a happy couple. And yet she had some secret sorrow, +this woman. She would often be lost in deep thought, with the +saddest look upon her face. More than once I have surprised her +in tears. I have thought sometimes that it was the disposition of +her child which weighed upon her mind, for I have never met so +utterly spoiled and so ill-natured a little creature. He is small +for his age, with a head which is quite disproportionately large. +His whole life appears to be spent in an alternation between +savage fits of passion and gloomy intervals of sulking. Giving +pain to any creature weaker than himself seems to be his one idea +of amusement, and he shows quite remarkable talent in planning +the capture of mice, little birds, and insects. But I would +rather not talk about the creature, Mr. Holmes, and, indeed, he +has little to do with my story." + +"I am glad of all details," remarked my friend, "whether they +seem to you to be relevant or not." + +"I shall try not to miss anything of importance. The one +unpleasant thing about the house, which struck me at once, was +the appearance and conduct of the servants. There are only two, a +man and his wife. Toller, for that is his name, is a rough, +uncouth man, with grizzled hair and whiskers, and a perpetual +smell of drink. Twice since I have been with them he has been +quite drunk, and yet Mr. Rucastle seemed to take no notice of it. +His wife is a very tall and strong woman with a sour face, as +silent as Mrs. Rucastle and much less amiable. They are a most +unpleasant couple, but fortunately I spend most of my time in the +nursery and my own room, which are next to each other in one +corner of the building. + +"For two days after my arrival at the Copper Beeches my life was +very quiet; on the third, Mrs. Rucastle came down just after +breakfast and whispered something to her husband. + +"'Oh, yes,' said he, turning to me, 'we are very much obliged to +you, Miss Hunter, for falling in with our whims so far as to cut +your hair. I assure you that it has not detracted in the tiniest +iota from your appearance. We shall now see how the electric-blue +dress will become you. You will find it laid out upon the bed in +your room, and if you would be so good as to put it on we should +both be extremely obliged.' + +"The dress which I found waiting for me was of a peculiar shade +of blue. It was of excellent material, a sort of beige, but it +bore unmistakable signs of having been worn before. It could not +have been a better fit if I had been measured for it. Both Mr. +and Mrs. Rucastle expressed a delight at the look of it, which +seemed quite exaggerated in its vehemence. They were waiting for +me in the drawing-room, which is a very large room, stretching +along the entire front of the house, with three long windows +reaching down to the floor. A chair had been placed close to the +central window, with its back turned towards it. In this I was +asked to sit, and then Mr. Rucastle, walking up and down on the +other side of the room, began to tell me a series of the funniest +stories that I have ever listened to. You cannot imagine how +comical he was, and I laughed until I was quite weary. Mrs. +Rucastle, however, who has evidently no sense of humour, never so +much as smiled, but sat with her hands in her lap, and a sad, +anxious look upon her face. After an hour or so, Mr. Rucastle +suddenly remarked that it was time to commence the duties of the +day, and that I might change my dress and go to little Edward in +the nursery. + +"Two days later this same performance was gone through under +exactly similar circumstances. Again I changed my dress, again I +sat in the window, and again I laughed very heartily at the funny +stories of which my employer had an immense repertoire, and which +he told inimitably. Then he handed me a yellow-backed novel, and +moving my chair a little sideways, that my own shadow might not +fall upon the page, he begged me to read aloud to him. I read for +about ten minutes, beginning in the heart of a chapter, and then +suddenly, in the middle of a sentence, he ordered me to cease and +to change my dress. + +"You can easily imagine, Mr. Holmes, how curious I became as to +what the meaning of this extraordinary performance could possibly +be. They were always very careful, I observed, to turn my face +away from the window, so that I became consumed with the desire +to see what was going on behind my back. At first it seemed to be +impossible, but I soon devised a means. My hand-mirror had been +broken, so a happy thought seized me, and I concealed a piece of +the glass in my handkerchief. On the next occasion, in the midst +of my laughter, I put my handkerchief up to my eyes, and was able +with a little management to see all that there was behind me. I +confess that I was disappointed. There was nothing. At least that +was my first impression. At the second glance, however, I +perceived that there was a man standing in the Southampton Road, +a small bearded man in a grey suit, who seemed to be looking in +my direction. The road is an important highway, and there are +usually people there. This man, however, was leaning against the +railings which bordered our field and was looking earnestly up. I +lowered my handkerchief and glanced at Mrs. Rucastle to find her +eyes fixed upon me with a most searching gaze. She said nothing, +but I am convinced that she had divined that I had a mirror in my +hand and had seen what was behind me. She rose at once. + +"'Jephro,' said she, 'there is an impertinent fellow upon the +road there who stares up at Miss Hunter.' + +"'No friend of yours, Miss Hunter?' he asked. + +"'No, I know no one in these parts.' + +"'Dear me! How very impertinent! Kindly turn round and motion to +him to go away.' + +"'Surely it would be better to take no notice.' + +"'No, no, we should have him loitering here always. Kindly turn +round and wave him away like that.' + +"I did as I was told, and at the same instant Mrs. Rucastle drew +down the blind. That was a week ago, and from that time I have +not sat again in the window, nor have I worn the blue dress, nor +seen the man in the road." + +"Pray continue," said Holmes. "Your narrative promises to be a +most interesting one." + +"You will find it rather disconnected, I fear, and there may +prove to be little relation between the different incidents of +which I speak. On the very first day that I was at the Copper +Beeches, Mr. Rucastle took me to a small outhouse which stands +near the kitchen door. As we approached it I heard the sharp +rattling of a chain, and the sound as of a large animal moving +about. + +"'Look in here!' said Mr. Rucastle, showing me a slit between two +planks. 'Is he not a beauty?' + +"I looked through and was conscious of two glowing eyes, and of a +vague figure huddled up in the darkness. + +"'Don't be frightened,' said my employer, laughing at the start +which I had given. 'It's only Carlo, my mastiff. I call him mine, +but really old Toller, my groom, is the only man who can do +anything with him. We feed him once a day, and not too much then, +so that he is always as keen as mustard. Toller lets him loose +every night, and God help the trespasser whom he lays his fangs +upon. For goodness' sake don't you ever on any pretext set your +foot over the threshold at night, for it's as much as your life +is worth.' + +"The warning was no idle one, for two nights later I happened to +look out of my bedroom window about two o'clock in the morning. +It was a beautiful moonlight night, and the lawn in front of the +house was silvered over and almost as bright as day. I was +standing, rapt in the peaceful beauty of the scene, when I was +aware that something was moving under the shadow of the copper +beeches. As it emerged into the moonshine I saw what it was. It +was a giant dog, as large as a calf, tawny tinted, with hanging +jowl, black muzzle, and huge projecting bones. It walked slowly +across the lawn and vanished into the shadow upon the other side. +That dreadful sentinel sent a chill to my heart which I do not +think that any burglar could have done. + +"And now I have a very strange experience to tell you. I had, as +you know, cut off my hair in London, and I had placed it in a +great coil at the bottom of my trunk. One evening, after the +child was in bed, I began to amuse myself by examining the +furniture of my room and by rearranging my own little things. +There was an old chest of drawers in the room, the two upper ones +empty and open, the lower one locked. I had filled the first two +with my linen, and as I had still much to pack away I was +naturally annoyed at not having the use of the third drawer. It +struck me that it might have been fastened by a mere oversight, +so I took out my bunch of keys and tried to open it. The very +first key fitted to perfection, and I drew the drawer open. There +was only one thing in it, but I am sure that you would never +guess what it was. It was my coil of hair. + +"I took it up and examined it. It was of the same peculiar tint, +and the same thickness. But then the impossibility of the thing +obtruded itself upon me. How could my hair have been locked in +the drawer? With trembling hands I undid my trunk, turned out the +contents, and drew from the bottom my own hair. I laid the two +tresses together, and I assure you that they were identical. Was +it not extraordinary? Puzzle as I would, I could make nothing at +all of what it meant. I returned the strange hair to the drawer, +and I said nothing of the matter to the Rucastles as I felt that +I had put myself in the wrong by opening a drawer which they had +locked. + +"I am naturally observant, as you may have remarked, Mr. Holmes, +and I soon had a pretty good plan of the whole house in my head. +There was one wing, however, which appeared not to be inhabited +at all. A door which faced that which led into the quarters of +the Tollers opened into this suite, but it was invariably locked. +One day, however, as I ascended the stair, I met Mr. Rucastle +coming out through this door, his keys in his hand, and a look on +his face which made him a very different person to the round, +jovial man to whom I was accustomed. His cheeks were red, his +brow was all crinkled with anger, and the veins stood out at his +temples with passion. He locked the door and hurried past me +without a word or a look. + +"This aroused my curiosity, so when I went out for a walk in the +grounds with my charge, I strolled round to the side from which I +could see the windows of this part of the house. There were four +of them in a row, three of which were simply dirty, while the +fourth was shuttered up. They were evidently all deserted. As I +strolled up and down, glancing at them occasionally, Mr. Rucastle +came out to me, looking as merry and jovial as ever. + +"'Ah!' said he, 'you must not think me rude if I passed you +without a word, my dear young lady. I was preoccupied with +business matters.' + +"I assured him that I was not offended. 'By the way,' said I, +'you seem to have quite a suite of spare rooms up there, and one +of them has the shutters up.' + +"He looked surprised and, as it seemed to me, a little startled +at my remark. + +"'Photography is one of my hobbies,' said he. 'I have made my +dark room up there. But, dear me! what an observant young lady we +have come upon. Who would have believed it? Who would have ever +believed it?' He spoke in a jesting tone, but there was no jest +in his eyes as he looked at me. I read suspicion there and +annoyance, but no jest. + +"Well, Mr. Holmes, from the moment that I understood that there +was something about that suite of rooms which I was not to know, +I was all on fire to go over them. It was not mere curiosity, +though I have my share of that. It was more a feeling of duty--a +feeling that some good might come from my penetrating to this +place. They talk of woman's instinct; perhaps it was woman's +instinct which gave me that feeling. At any rate, it was there, +and I was keenly on the lookout for any chance to pass the +forbidden door. + +"It was only yesterday that the chance came. I may tell you that, +besides Mr. Rucastle, both Toller and his wife find something to +do in these deserted rooms, and I once saw him carrying a large +black linen bag with him through the door. Recently he has been +drinking hard, and yesterday evening he was very drunk; and when +I came upstairs there was the key in the door. I have no doubt at +all that he had left it there. Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle were both +downstairs, and the child was with them, so that I had an +admirable opportunity. I turned the key gently in the lock, +opened the door, and slipped through. + +"There was a little passage in front of me, unpapered and +uncarpeted, which turned at a right angle at the farther end. +Round this corner were three doors in a line, the first and third +of which were open. They each led into an empty room, dusty and +cheerless, with two windows in the one and one in the other, so +thick with dirt that the evening light glimmered dimly through +them. The centre door was closed, and across the outside of it +had been fastened one of the broad bars of an iron bed, padlocked +at one end to a ring in the wall, and fastened at the other with +stout cord. The door itself was locked as well, and the key was +not there. This barricaded door corresponded clearly with the +shuttered window outside, and yet I could see by the glimmer from +beneath it that the room was not in darkness. Evidently there was +a skylight which let in light from above. As I stood in the +passage gazing at the sinister door and wondering what secret it +might veil, I suddenly heard the sound of steps within the room +and saw a shadow pass backward and forward against the little +slit of dim light which shone out from under the door. A mad, +unreasoning terror rose up in me at the sight, Mr. Holmes. My +overstrung nerves failed me suddenly, and I turned and ran--ran +as though some dreadful hand were behind me clutching at the +skirt of my dress. I rushed down the passage, through the door, +and straight into the arms of Mr. Rucastle, who was waiting +outside. + +"'So,' said he, smiling, 'it was you, then. I thought that it +must be when I saw the door open.' + +"'Oh, I am so frightened!' I panted. + +"'My dear young lady! my dear young lady!'--you cannot think how +caressing and soothing his manner was--'and what has frightened +you, my dear young lady?' + +"But his voice was just a little too coaxing. He overdid it. I +was keenly on my guard against him. + +"'I was foolish enough to go into the empty wing,' I answered. +'But it is so lonely and eerie in this dim light that I was +frightened and ran out again. Oh, it is so dreadfully still in +there!' + +"'Only that?' said he, looking at me keenly. + +"'Why, what did you think?' I asked. + +"'Why do you think that I lock this door?' + +"'I am sure that I do not know.' + +"'It is to keep people out who have no business there. Do you +see?' He was still smiling in the most amiable manner. + +"'I am sure if I had known--' + +"'Well, then, you know now. And if you ever put your foot over +that threshold again'--here in an instant the smile hardened into +a grin of rage, and he glared down at me with the face of a +demon--'I'll throw you to the mastiff.' + +"I was so terrified that I do not know what I did. I suppose that +I must have rushed past him into my room. I remember nothing +until I found myself lying on my bed trembling all over. Then I +thought of you, Mr. Holmes. I could not live there longer without +some advice. I was frightened of the house, of the man, of the +woman, of the servants, even of the child. They were all horrible +to me. If I could only bring you down all would be well. Of +course I might have fled from the house, but my curiosity was +almost as strong as my fears. My mind was soon made up. I would +send you a wire. I put on my hat and cloak, went down to the +office, which is about half a mile from the house, and then +returned, feeling very much easier. A horrible doubt came into my +mind as I approached the door lest the dog might be loose, but I +remembered that Toller had drunk himself into a state of +insensibility that evening, and I knew that he was the only one +in the household who had any influence with the savage creature, +or who would venture to set him free. I slipped in in safety and +lay awake half the night in my joy at the thought of seeing you. +I had no difficulty in getting leave to come into Winchester this +morning, but I must be back before three o'clock, for Mr. and +Mrs. Rucastle are going on a visit, and will be away all the +evening, so that I must look after the child. Now I have told you +all my adventures, Mr. Holmes, and I should be very glad if you +could tell me what it all means, and, above all, what I should +do." + +Holmes and I had listened spellbound to this extraordinary story. +My friend rose now and paced up and down the room, his hands in +his pockets, and an expression of the most profound gravity upon +his face. + +"Is Toller still drunk?" he asked. + +"Yes. I heard his wife tell Mrs. Rucastle that she could do +nothing with him." + +"That is well. And the Rucastles go out to-night?" + +"Yes." + +"Is there a cellar with a good strong lock?" + +"Yes, the wine-cellar." + +"You seem to me to have acted all through this matter like a very +brave and sensible girl, Miss Hunter. Do you think that you could +perform one more feat? I should not ask it of you if I did not +think you a quite exceptional woman." + +"I will try. What is it?" + +"We shall be at the Copper Beeches by seven o'clock, my friend +and I. The Rucastles will be gone by that time, and Toller will, +we hope, be incapable. There only remains Mrs. Toller, who might +give the alarm. If you could send her into the cellar on some +errand, and then turn the key upon her, you would facilitate +matters immensely." + +"I will do it." + +"Excellent! We shall then look thoroughly into the affair. Of +course there is only one feasible explanation. You have been +brought there to personate someone, and the real person is +imprisoned in this chamber. That is obvious. As to who this +prisoner is, I have no doubt that it is the daughter, Miss Alice +Rucastle, if I remember right, who was said to have gone to +America. You were chosen, doubtless, as resembling her in height, +figure, and the colour of your hair. Hers had been cut off, very +possibly in some illness through which she has passed, and so, of +course, yours had to be sacrificed also. By a curious chance you +came upon her tresses. The man in the road was undoubtedly some +friend of hers--possibly her fiance--and no doubt, as you wore +the girl's dress and were so like her, he was convinced from your +laughter, whenever he saw you, and afterwards from your gesture, +that Miss Rucastle was perfectly happy, and that she no longer +desired his attentions. The dog is let loose at night to prevent +him from endeavouring to communicate with her. So much is fairly +clear. The most serious point in the case is the disposition of +the child." + +"What on earth has that to do with it?" I ejaculated. + +"My dear Watson, you as a medical man are continually gaining +light as to the tendencies of a child by the study of the +parents. Don't you see that the converse is equally valid. I have +frequently gained my first real insight into the character of +parents by studying their children. This child's disposition is +abnormally cruel, merely for cruelty's sake, and whether he +derives this from his smiling father, as I should suspect, or +from his mother, it bodes evil for the poor girl who is in their +power." + +"I am sure that you are right, Mr. Holmes," cried our client. "A +thousand things come back to me which make me certain that you +have hit it. Oh, let us lose not an instant in bringing help to +this poor creature." + +"We must be circumspect, for we are dealing with a very cunning +man. We can do nothing until seven o'clock. At that hour we shall +be with you, and it will not be long before we solve the +mystery." + +We were as good as our word, for it was just seven when we +reached the Copper Beeches, having put up our trap at a wayside +public-house. The group of trees, with their dark leaves shining +like burnished metal in the light of the setting sun, were +sufficient to mark the house even had Miss Hunter not been +standing smiling on the door-step. + +"Have you managed it?" asked Holmes. + +A loud thudding noise came from somewhere downstairs. "That is +Mrs. Toller in the cellar," said she. "Her husband lies snoring +on the kitchen rug. Here are his keys, which are the duplicates +of Mr. Rucastle's." + +"You have done well indeed!" cried Holmes with enthusiasm. "Now +lead the way, and we shall soon see the end of this black +business." + +We passed up the stair, unlocked the door, followed on down a +passage, and found ourselves in front of the barricade which Miss +Hunter had described. Holmes cut the cord and removed the +transverse bar. Then he tried the various keys in the lock, but +without success. No sound came from within, and at the silence +Holmes' face clouded over. + +"I trust that we are not too late," said he. "I think, Miss +Hunter, that we had better go in without you. Now, Watson, put +your shoulder to it, and we shall see whether we cannot make our +way in." + +It was an old rickety door and gave at once before our united +strength. Together we rushed into the room. It was empty. There +was no furniture save a little pallet bed, a small table, and a +basketful of linen. The skylight above was open, and the prisoner +gone. + +"There has been some villainy here," said Holmes; "this beauty +has guessed Miss Hunter's intentions and has carried his victim +off." + +"But how?" + +"Through the skylight. We shall soon see how he managed it." He +swung himself up onto the roof. "Ah, yes," he cried, "here's the +end of a long light ladder against the eaves. That is how he did +it." + +"But it is impossible," said Miss Hunter; "the ladder was not +there when the Rucastles went away." + +"He has come back and done it. I tell you that he is a clever and +dangerous man. I should not be very much surprised if this were +he whose step I hear now upon the stair. I think, Watson, that it +would be as well for you to have your pistol ready." + +The words were hardly out of his mouth before a man appeared at +the door of the room, a very fat and burly man, with a heavy +stick in his hand. Miss Hunter screamed and shrunk against the +wall at the sight of him, but Sherlock Holmes sprang forward and +confronted him. + +"You villain!" said he, "where's your daughter?" + +The fat man cast his eyes round, and then up at the open +skylight. + +"It is for me to ask you that," he shrieked, "you thieves! Spies +and thieves! I have caught you, have I? You are in my power. I'll +serve you!" He turned and clattered down the stairs as hard as he +could go. + +"He's gone for the dog!" cried Miss Hunter. + +"I have my revolver," said I. + +"Better close the front door," cried Holmes, and we all rushed +down the stairs together. We had hardly reached the hall when we +heard the baying of a hound, and then a scream of agony, with a +horrible worrying sound which it was dreadful to listen to. An +elderly man with a red face and shaking limbs came staggering out +at a side door. + +"My God!" he cried. "Someone has loosed the dog. It's not been +fed for two days. Quick, quick, or it'll be too late!" + +Holmes and I rushed out and round the angle of the house, with +Toller hurrying behind us. There was the huge famished brute, its +black muzzle buried in Rucastle's throat, while he writhed and +screamed upon the ground. Running up, I blew its brains out, and +it fell over with its keen white teeth still meeting in the great +creases of his neck. With much labour we separated them and +carried him, living but horribly mangled, into the house. We laid +him upon the drawing-room sofa, and having dispatched the sobered +Toller to bear the news to his wife, I did what I could to +relieve his pain. We were all assembled round him when the door +opened, and a tall, gaunt woman entered the room. + +"Mrs. Toller!" cried Miss Hunter. + +"Yes, miss. Mr. Rucastle let me out when he came back before he +went up to you. Ah, miss, it is a pity you didn't let me know +what you were planning, for I would have told you that your pains +were wasted." + +"Ha!" said Holmes, looking keenly at her. "It is clear that Mrs. +Toller knows more about this matter than anyone else." + +"Yes, sir, I do, and I am ready enough to tell what I know." + +"Then, pray, sit down, and let us hear it for there are several +points on which I must confess that I am still in the dark." + +"I will soon make it clear to you," said she; "and I'd have done +so before now if I could ha' got out from the cellar. If there's +police-court business over this, you'll remember that I was the +one that stood your friend, and that I was Miss Alice's friend +too. + +"She was never happy at home, Miss Alice wasn't, from the time +that her father married again. She was slighted like and had no +say in anything, but it never really became bad for her until +after she met Mr. Fowler at a friend's house. As well as I could +learn, Miss Alice had rights of her own by will, but she was so +quiet and patient, she was, that she never said a word about them +but just left everything in Mr. Rucastle's hands. He knew he was +safe with her; but when there was a chance of a husband coming +forward, who would ask for all that the law would give him, then +her father thought it time to put a stop on it. He wanted her to +sign a paper, so that whether she married or not, he could use +her money. When she wouldn't do it, he kept on worrying her until +she got brain-fever, and for six weeks was at death's door. Then +she got better at last, all worn to a shadow, and with her +beautiful hair cut off; but that didn't make no change in her +young man, and he stuck to her as true as man could be." + +"Ah," said Holmes, "I think that what you have been good enough +to tell us makes the matter fairly clear, and that I can deduce +all that remains. Mr. Rucastle then, I presume, took to this +system of imprisonment?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And brought Miss Hunter down from London in order to get rid of +the disagreeable persistence of Mr. Fowler." + +"That was it, sir." + +"But Mr. Fowler being a persevering man, as a good seaman should +be, blockaded the house, and having met you succeeded by certain +arguments, metallic or otherwise, in convincing you that your +interests were the same as his." + +"Mr. Fowler was a very kind-spoken, free-handed gentleman," said +Mrs. Toller serenely. + +"And in this way he managed that your good man should have no +want of drink, and that a ladder should be ready at the moment +when your master had gone out." + +"You have it, sir, just as it happened." + +"I am sure we owe you an apology, Mrs. Toller," said Holmes, "for +you have certainly cleared up everything which puzzled us. And +here comes the country surgeon and Mrs. Rucastle, so I think, +Watson, that we had best escort Miss Hunter back to Winchester, +as it seems to me that our locus standi now is rather a +questionable one." + +And thus was solved the mystery of the sinister house with the +copper beeches in front of the door. Mr. Rucastle survived, but +was always a broken man, kept alive solely through the care of +his devoted wife. They still live with their old servants, who +probably know so much of Rucastle's past life that he finds it +difficult to part from them. Mr. Fowler and Miss Rucastle were +married, by special license, in Southampton the day after their +flight, and he is now the holder of a government appointment in +the island of Mauritius. As to Miss Violet Hunter, my friend +Holmes, rather to my disappointment, manifested no further +interest in her when once she had ceased to be the centre of one +of his problems, and she is now the head of a private school at +Walsall, where I believe that she has met with considerable success. + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, by +Arthur Conan Doyle + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES *** + +***** This file should be named 1661-8.txt or 1661-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/6/1661/ + +Produced by an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer and Jose Menendez + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.net + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/src/main/pg-tom_sawyer.txt b/src/main/pg-tom_sawyer.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f21b2a1 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/main/pg-tom_sawyer.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9206 @@ + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Complete by +Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost +no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use +it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this +eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net + +Title: The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Complete + +Author: Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) + +Release Date: August 20, 2006 [EBook #74] Last updated: October 20, 2012 + +Language: English + + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM SAWYER *** + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +THE ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER + +By Mark Twain + +(Samuel Langhorne Clemens) + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER I. Y-o-u-u Tom-Aunt Polly Decides Upon her Duty--Tom Practices +Music--The Challenge--A Private Entrance + +CHAPTER II. Strong Temptations--Strategic Movements--The Innocents +Beguiled + +CHAPTER III. Tom as a General--Triumph and Reward--Dismal +Felicity--Commission and Omission + +CHAPTER IV. Mental Acrobatics--Attending Sunday--School--The +Superintendent--"Showing off"--Tom Lionized + +CHAPTER V. A Useful Minister--In Church--The Climax + +CHAPTER VI. Self-Examination--Dentistry--The Midnight Charm--Witches and +Devils--Cautious Approaches--Happy Hours + +CHAPTER VII. A Treaty Entered Into--Early Lessons--A Mistake Made + +CHAPTER VIII. Tom Decides on his Course--Old Scenes Re-enacted + +CHAPTER IX. A Solemn Situation--Grave Subjects Introduced--Injun Joe +Explains + +CHAPTER X. The Solemn Oath--Terror Brings Repentance--Mental Punishment + +CHAPTER XI. Muff Potter Comes Himself--Tom's Conscience at Work + +CHAPTER XII. Tom Shows his Generosity--Aunt Polly Weakens + +CHAPTER XIII. The Young Pirates--Going to the Rendezvous--The Camp--Fire +Talk + +CHAPTER XIV. Camp-Life--A Sensation--Tom Steals Away from Camp + +CHAPTER XV. Tom Reconnoiters--Learns the Situation--Reports at Camp + +CHAPTER XVI. A Day's Amusements--Tom Reveals a Secret--The Pirates take a +Lesson--A Night Surprise--An Indian War + +CHAPTER XVII. Memories of the Lost Heroes--The Point in Tom's Secret + +CHAPTER XVIII. Tom's Feelings Investigated--Wonderful Dream--Becky +Thatcher Overshadowed--Tom Becomes Jealous--Black Revenge + +CHAPTER XIX. Tom Tells the Truth + +CHAPTER XX. Becky in a Dilemma--Tom's Nobility Asserts Itself + +CHAPTER XXI. Youthful Eloquence--Compositions by the Young Ladies--A +Lengthy Vision--The Boy's Vengeance Satisfied + +CHAPTER XXII. Tom's Confidence Betrayed--Expects Signal Punishment + +CHAPTER XXIII. Old Muff's Friends--Muff Potter in Court--Muff Potter +Saved + +CHAPTER XXIV. Tom as the Village Hero--Days of Splendor and Nights of +Horror--Pursuit of Injun Joe + +CHAPTER XXV. About Kings and Diamonds--Search for the Treasure--Dead +People and Ghosts + +CHAPTER XXVI. The Haunted House--Sleepy Ghosts--A Box of Gold--Bitter Luck + +CHAPTER XXVII. Doubts to be Settled--The Young Detectives + +CHAPTER XXVIII. An Attempt at No. Two--Huck Mounts Guard + +CHAPTER XXIX. The Pic-nic--Huck on Injun Joe's Track--The "Revenge" +Job--Aid for the Widow + +CHAPTER XXX. The Welchman Reports--Huck Under Fire--The Story Circulated +--A New Sensation--Hope Giving Way to Despair + +CHAPTER XXXI. An Exploring Expedition--Trouble Commences--Lost in the +Cave--Total Darkness--Found but not Saved + +CHAPTER XXXII. Tom tells the Story of their Escape--Tom's Enemy in Safe +Quarters + +CHAPTER XXXIII. The Fate of Injun Joe--Huck and Tom Compare Notes +--An Expedition to the Cave--Protection Against Ghosts--"An Awful Snug +Place"--A Reception at the Widow Douglas's + +CHAPTER XXXIV. Springing a Secret--Mr. Jones' Surprise a Failure + +CHAPTER XXXV. A New Order of Things--Poor Huck--New Adventures Planned + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + +Tom Sawyer + +Tom at Home + +Aunt Polly Beguiled + +A Good Opportunity + +Who's Afraid + +Late Home + +Jim + +'Tendin' to Business + +Ain't that Work? + +Cat and Toys + +Amusement + +Becky Thatcher + +Paying Off + +After the Battle + +"Showing Off" + +Not Amiss + +Mary + +Tom Contemplating + +Dampened Ardor + +Youth + +Boyhood + +Using the "Barlow" + +The Church + +Necessities + +Tom as a Sunday-School Hero + +The Prize + +At Church + +The Model Boy + +The Church Choir + +A Side Show + +Result of Playing in Church + +The Pinch-Bug + +Sid + +Dentistry + +Huckleberry Finn + +Mother Hopkins + +Result of Tom's Truthfulness + +Tom as an Artist + +Interrupted Courtship + +The Master + +Vain Pleading + +Tail Piece + +The Grave in the Woods + +Tom Meditates + +Robin Hood and his Foe + +Death of Robin Hood + +Midnight + +Tom's Mode of Egress + +Tom's Effort at Prayer + +Muff Potter Outwitted + +The Graveyard + +Forewarnings + +Disturbing Muff's Sleep + +Tom's Talk with his Aunt + +Muff Potter + +A Suspicious Incident + +Injun Joe's two Victims + +In the Coils + +Peter + +Aunt Polly seeks Information + +A General Good Time + +Demoralized + +Joe Harper + +On Board Their First Prize + +The Pirates Ashore + +Wild Life + +The Pirate's Bath + +The Pleasant Stroll + +The Search for the Drowned + +The Mysterious Writing + +River View + +What Tom Saw + +Tom Swims the River + +Taking Lessons + +The Pirates' Egg Market + +Tom Looking for Joe's Knife + +The Thunder Storm + +Terrible Slaughter + +The Mourner + +Tom's Proudest Moment + +Amy Lawrence + +Tom tries to Remember + +The Hero + +A Flirtation + +Becky Retaliates + +A Sudden Frost + +Counter-irritation + +Aunt Polly + +Tom justified + +The Discovery + +Caught in the Act + +Tom Astonishes the School + +Literature + +Tom Declaims + +Examination Evening + +On Exhibition + +Prize Authors + +The Master's Dilemma + +The School House + +The Cadet + +Happy for Two Days + +Enjoying the Vacation + +The Stolen Melons + +The Judge + +Visiting the Prisoner + +Tom Swears + +The Court Room + +The Detective + +Tom Dreams + +The Treasure + +The Private Conference + +A King; Poor Fellow! + +Business + +The Ha'nted House + +Injun Joe + +The Greatest and Best + +Hidden Treasures Unearthed + +The Boy's Salvation + +Room No. 2 + +The Next Day's Conference + +Treasures + +Uncle Jake + +Buck at Home + +The Haunted Room + +"Run for Your Life" + +McDougal's Cave + +Inside the Cave + +Huck on Duty + +A Rousing Act + +Tail Piece + +The Welchman + +Result of a Sneeze + +Cornered + +Alarming Discoveries + +Tom and Becky stir up the Town + +Tom's Marks + +Huck Questions the Widow + +Vampires + +Wonders of the Cave + +Attacked by Natives + +Despair + +The Wedding Cake + +A New Terror + +Daylight + +"Turn Out" to Receive Tom and Becky + +The Escape from the Cave + +Fate of the Ragged Man + +The Treasures Found + +Caught at Last + +Drop after Drop + +Having a Good Time + +A Business Trip + +"Got it at Last!" + +Tail Piece + +Widow Douglas + +Tom Backs his Statement + +Tail Piece + +Huck Transformed + +Comfortable Once More + +High up in Society + +Contentment + + + + +PREFACE + +Most of the adventures recorded in this book really occurred; one or two +were experiences of my own, the rest those of boys who were schoolmates +of mine. Huck Finn is drawn from life; Tom Sawyer also, but not from an +individual--he is a combination of the characteristics of three boys whom +I knew, and therefore belongs to the composite order of architecture. + +The odd superstitions touched upon were all prevalent among children and +slaves in the West at the period of this story--that is to say, thirty or +forty years ago. + +Although my book is intended mainly for the entertainment of boys and +girls, I hope it will not be shunned by men and women on that account, +for part of my plan has been to try to pleasantly remind adults of what +they once were themselves, and of how they felt and thought and talked, +and what queer enterprises they sometimes engaged in. + +THE AUTHOR. + +HARTFORD, 1876. + + + + +CHAPTER I + +"TOM!" + +No answer. + +"TOM!" + +No answer. + +"What's gone with that boy, I wonder? You TOM!" + +No answer. + +The old lady pulled her spectacles down and looked over them about the +room; then she put them up and looked out under them. She seldom or +never looked _through_ them for so small a thing as a boy; they were +her state pair, the pride of her heart, and were built for "style," not +service--she could have seen through a pair of stove-lids just as well. +She looked perplexed for a moment, and then said, not fiercely, but +still loud enough for the furniture to hear: + +"Well, I lay if I get hold of you I'll--" + +She did not finish, for by this time she was bending down and punching +under the bed with the broom, and so she needed breath to punctuate the +punches with. She resurrected nothing but the cat. + +"I never did see the beat of that boy!" + +She went to the open door and stood in it and looked out among the +tomato vines and "jimpson" weeds that constituted the garden. No Tom. So +she lifted up her voice at an angle calculated for distance and shouted: + +"Y-o-u-u TOM!" + +There was a slight noise behind her and she turned just in time to seize +a small boy by the slack of his roundabout and arrest his flight. + +"There! I might 'a' thought of that closet. What you been doing in +there?" + +"Nothing." + +"Nothing! Look at your hands. And look at your mouth. What _is_ that +truck?" + +"I don't know, aunt." + +"Well, I know. It's jam--that's what it is. Forty times I've said if you +didn't let that jam alone I'd skin you. Hand me that switch." + +The switch hovered in the air--the peril was desperate-- + +"My! Look behind you, aunt!" + +The old lady whirled round, and snatched her skirts out of danger. +The lad fled on the instant, scrambled up the high board-fence, and +disappeared over it. + +His aunt Polly stood surprised a moment, and then broke into a gentle +laugh. + +"Hang the boy, can't I never learn anything? Ain't he played me tricks +enough like that for me to be looking out for him by this time? But old +fools is the biggest fools there is. Can't learn an old dog new tricks, +as the saying is. But my goodness, he never plays them alike, two days, +and how is a body to know what's coming? He 'pears to know just how long +he can torment me before I get my dander up, and he knows if he can make +out to put me off for a minute or make me laugh, it's all down again and +I can't hit him a lick. I ain't doing my duty by that boy, and that's +the Lord's truth, goodness knows. Spare the rod and spile the child, +as the Good Book says. I'm a laying up sin and suffering for us both, +I know. He's full of the Old Scratch, but laws-a-me! he's my own +dead sister's boy, poor thing, and I ain't got the heart to lash him, +somehow. Every time I let him off, my conscience does hurt me so, and +every time I hit him my old heart most breaks. Well-a-well, man that is +born of woman is of few days and full of trouble, as the Scripture +says, and I reckon it's so. He'll play hookey this evening, * and [* +Southwestern for "afternoon"] I'll just be obleeged to make him work, +tomorrow, to punish him. It's mighty hard to make him work Saturdays, +when all the boys is having holiday, but he hates work more than he +hates anything else, and I've _got_ to do some of my duty by him, or +I'll be the ruination of the child." + +Tom did play hookey, and he had a very good time. He got back home +barely in season to help Jim, the small colored boy, saw next-day's wood +and split the kindlings before supper--at least he was there in time +to tell his adventures to Jim while Jim did three-fourths of the work. +Tom's younger brother (or rather half-brother) Sid was already through +with his part of the work (picking up chips), for he was a quiet boy, +and had no adventurous, trouble-some ways. + +While Tom was eating his supper, and stealing sugar as opportunity +offered, Aunt Polly asked him questions that were full of guile, and +very deep--for she wanted to trap him into damaging revealments. Like +many other simple-hearted souls, it was her pet vanity to believe she +was endowed with a talent for dark and mysterious diplomacy, and she +loved to contemplate her most transparent devices as marvels of low +cunning. Said she: + +"Tom, it was middling warm in school, warn't it?" + +"Yes'm." + +"Powerful warm, warn't it?" + +"Yes'm." + +"Didn't you want to go in a-swimming, Tom?" + +A bit of a scare shot through Tom--a touch of uncomfortable suspicion. He +searched Aunt Polly's face, but it told him nothing. So he said: + +"No'm--well, not very much." + +The old lady reached out her hand and felt Tom's shirt, and said: + +"But you ain't too warm now, though." And it flattered her to reflect +that she had discovered that the shirt was dry without anybody knowing +that that was what she had in her mind. But in spite of her, Tom knew +where the wind lay, now. So he forestalled what might be the next move: + +"Some of us pumped on our heads--mine's damp yet. See?" + +Aunt Polly was vexed to think she had overlooked that bit of +circumstantial evidence, and missed a trick. Then she had a new +inspiration: + +"Tom, you didn't have to undo your shirt collar where I sewed it, to +pump on your head, did you? Unbutton your jacket!" + +The trouble vanished out of Tom's face. He opened his jacket. His shirt +collar was securely sewed. + +"Bother! Well, go 'long with you. I'd made sure you'd played hookey +and been a-swimming. But I forgive ye, Tom. I reckon you're a kind of a +singed cat, as the saying is--better'n you look. _This_ time." + +She was half sorry her sagacity had miscarried, and half glad that Tom +had stumbled into obedient conduct for once. + +But Sidney said: + +"Well, now, if I didn't think you sewed his collar with white thread, +but it's black." + +"Why, I did sew it with white! Tom!" + +But Tom did not wait for the rest. As he went out at the door he said: + +"Siddy, I'll lick you for that." + +In a safe place Tom examined two large needles which were thrust into +the lapels of his jacket, and had thread bound about them--one needle +carried white thread and the other black. He said: + +"She'd never noticed if it hadn't been for Sid. Confound it! sometimes +she sews it with white, and sometimes she sews it with black. I wish to +gee-miny she'd stick to one or t'other--I can't keep the run of 'em. But +I bet you I'll lam Sid for that. I'll learn him!" + +He was not the Model Boy of the village. He knew the model boy very well +though--and loathed him. + +Within two minutes, or even less, he had forgotten all his troubles. Not +because his troubles were one whit less heavy and bitter to him than a +man's are to a man, but because a new and powerful interest bore +them down and drove them out of his mind for the time--just as men's +misfortunes are forgotten in the excitement of new enterprises. This new +interest was a valued novelty in whistling, which he had just acquired +from a negro, and he was suffering to practise it un-disturbed. It +consisted in a peculiar bird-like turn, a sort of liquid warble, +produced by touching the tongue to the roof of the mouth at short +intervals in the midst of the music--the reader probably remembers how to +do it, if he has ever been a boy. Diligence and attention soon gave him +the knack of it, and he strode down the street with his mouth full of +harmony and his soul full of gratitude. He felt much as an astronomer +feels who has discovered a new planet--no doubt, as far as strong, deep, +unalloyed pleasure is concerned, the advantage was with the boy, not the +astronomer. + +The summer evenings were long. It was not dark, yet. Presently Tom +checked his whistle. A stranger was before him--a boy a shade larger +than himself. A new-comer of any age or either sex was an im-pressive +curiosity in the poor little shabby village of St. Petersburg. This boy +was well dressed, too--well dressed on a week-day. This was simply as +astounding. His cap was a dainty thing, his close-buttoned blue cloth +roundabout was new and natty, and so were his pantaloons. He had shoes +on--and it was only Friday. He even wore a necktie, a bright bit of +ribbon. He had a citified air about him that ate into Tom's vitals. The +more Tom stared at the splendid marvel, the higher he turned up his nose +at his finery and the shabbier and shabbier his own outfit seemed to +him to grow. Neither boy spoke. If one moved, the other moved--but only +sidewise, in a circle; they kept face to face and eye to eye all the +time. Finally Tom said: + +"I can lick you!" + +"I'd like to see you try it." + +"Well, I can do it." + +"No you can't, either." + +"Yes I can." + +"No you can't." + +"I can." + +"You can't." + +"Can!" + +"Can't!" + +An uncomfortable pause. Then Tom said: + +"What's your name?" + +"'Tisn't any of your business, maybe." + +"Well I 'low I'll _make_ it my business." + +"Well why don't you?" + +"If you say much, I will." + +"Much--much--_much_. There now." + +"Oh, you think you're mighty smart, _don't_ you? I could lick you with +one hand tied behind me, if I wanted to." + +"Well why don't you _do_ it? You _say_ you can do it." + +"Well I _will_, if you fool with me." + +"Oh yes--I've seen whole families in the same fix." + +"Smarty! You think you're _some_, now, _don't_ you? Oh, what a hat!" + +"You can lump that hat if you don't like it. I dare you to knock it +off--and anybody that'll take a dare will suck eggs." + +"You're a liar!" + +"You're another." + +"You're a fighting liar and dasn't take it up." + +"Aw--take a walk!" + +"Say--if you give me much more of your sass I'll take and bounce a rock +off'n your head." + +"Oh, of _course_ you will." + +"Well I _will_." + +"Well why don't you _do_ it then? What do you keep _saying_ you will +for? Why don't you _do_ it? It's because you're afraid." + +"I _ain't_ afraid." + +"You are." + +"I ain't." + +"You are." + +Another pause, and more eying and sidling around each other. Presently +they were shoulder to shoulder. Tom said: + +"Get away from here!" + +"Go away yourself!" + +"I won't." + +"I won't either." + +So they stood, each with a foot placed at an angle as a brace, and both +shoving with might and main, and glowering at each other with hate. But +neither could get an advantage. After struggling till both were hot and +flushed, each relaxed his strain with watchful caution, and Tom said: + +"You're a coward and a pup. I'll tell my big brother on you, and he can +thrash you with his little finger, and I'll make him do it, too." + +"What do I care for your big brother? I've got a brother that's bigger +than he is--and what's more, he can throw him over that fence, too." +[Both brothers were imaginary.] + +"That's a lie." + +"_Your_ saying so don't make it so." + +Tom drew a line in the dust with his big toe, and said: + +"I dare you to step over that, and I'll lick you till you can't stand +up. Anybody that'll take a dare will steal sheep." + +The new boy stepped over promptly, and said: + +"Now you said you'd do it, now let's see you do it." + +"Don't you crowd me now; you better look out." + +"Well, you _said_ you'd do it--why don't you do it?" + +"By jingo! for two cents I _will_ do it." + +The new boy took two broad coppers out of his pocket and held them out +with derision. Tom struck them to the ground. In an instant both boys +were rolling and tumbling in the dirt, gripped together like cats; and +for the space of a minute they tugged and tore at each other's hair and +clothes, punched and scratched each other's nose, and covered themselves +with dust and glory. Presently the confusion took form, and through the +fog of battle Tom appeared, seated astride the new boy, and pounding him +with his fists. "Holler 'nuff!" said he. + +The boy only struggled to free himself. He was crying--mainly from rage. + +"Holler 'nuff!"--and the pounding went on. + +At last the stranger got out a smothered "'Nuff!" and Tom let him up and +said: + +"Now that'll learn you. Better look out who you're fooling with next +time." + +The new boy went off brushing the dust from his clothes, sobbing, +snuffling, and occasionally looking back and shaking his head and +threatening what he would do to Tom the "next time he caught him out." +To which Tom responded with jeers, and started off in high feather, and +as soon as his back was turned the new boy snatched up a stone, threw it +and hit him between the shoulders and then turned tail and ran like +an antelope. Tom chased the traitor home, and thus found out where he +lived. He then held a position at the gate for some time, daring the +enemy to come outside, but the enemy only made faces at him through the +window and declined. At last the enemy's mother appeared, and called Tom +a bad, vicious, vulgar child, and ordered him away. So he went away; but +he said he "'lowed" to "lay" for that boy. + +He got home pretty late that night, and when he climbed cautiously in +at the window, he uncovered an ambuscade, in the person of his aunt; and +when she saw the state his clothes were in her resolution to turn his +Saturday holiday into captivity at hard labor became adamantine in its +firmness. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +SATURDAY morning was come, and all the summer world was bright and +fresh, and brimming with life. There was a song in every heart; and if +the heart was young the music issued at the lips. There was cheer in +every face and a spring in every step. The locust-trees were in bloom +and the fragrance of the blossoms filled the air. Cardiff Hill, beyond +the village and above it, was green with vegetation and it lay just far +enough away to seem a Delectable Land, dreamy, reposeful, and inviting. + +Tom appeared on the sidewalk with a bucket of whitewash and a +long-handled brush. He surveyed the fence, and all gladness left him and +a deep melancholy settled down upon his spirit. Thirty yards of board +fence nine feet high. Life to him seemed hollow, and existence but a +burden. Sighing, he dipped his brush and passed it along the topmost +plank; repeated the operation; did it again; compared the insignificant +whitewashed streak with the far-reaching continent of unwhitewashed +fence, and sat down on a tree-box discouraged. Jim came skipping out at +the gate with a tin pail, and singing Buffalo Gals. Bringing water from +the town pump had always been hateful work in Tom's eyes, before, but +now it did not strike him so. He remembered that there was company at +the pump. White, mulatto, and negro boys and girls were always there +waiting their turns, resting, trading playthings, quarrelling, fighting, +skylarking. And he remembered that although the pump was only a hundred +and fifty yards off, Jim never got back with a bucket of water under an +hour--and even then somebody generally had to go after him. Tom said: + +"Say, Jim, I'll fetch the water if you'll whitewash some." + +Jim shook his head and said: + +"Can't, Mars Tom. Ole missis, she tole me I got to go an' git dis water +an' not stop foolin' roun' wid anybody. She say she spec' Mars Tom gwine +to ax me to whitewash, an' so she tole me go 'long an' 'tend to my own +business--she 'lowed _she'd_ 'tend to de whitewashin'." + +"Oh, never you mind what she said, Jim. That's the way she always talks. +Gimme the bucket--I won't be gone only a a minute. _She_ won't ever +know." + +"Oh, I dasn't, Mars Tom. Ole missis she'd take an' tar de head off'n me. +'Deed she would." + +"_She_! She never licks anybody--whacks 'em over the head with her +thimble--and who cares for that, I'd like to know. She talks awful, but +talk don't hurt--anyways it don't if she don't cry. Jim, I'll give you a +marvel. I'll give you a white alley!" + +Jim began to waver. + +"White alley, Jim! And it's a bully taw." + +"My! Dat's a mighty gay marvel, I tell you! But Mars Tom I's powerful +'fraid ole missis--" + +"And besides, if you will I'll show you my sore toe." + +Jim was only human--this attraction was too much for him. He put down +his pail, took the white alley, and bent over the toe with absorbing +interest while the bandage was being unwound. In another moment he +was flying down the street with his pail and a tingling rear, Tom was +whitewashing with vigor, and Aunt Polly was retiring from the field with +a slipper in her hand and triumph in her eye. + +But Tom's energy did not last. He began to think of the fun he had +planned for this day, and his sorrows multiplied. Soon the free boys +would come tripping along on all sorts of delicious expeditions, and +they would make a world of fun of him for having to work--the very +thought of it burnt him like fire. He got out his worldly wealth and +examined it--bits of toys, marbles, and trash; enough to buy an exchange +of _work_, maybe, but not half enough to buy so much as half an hour +of pure freedom. So he returned his straitened means to his pocket, and +gave up the idea of trying to buy the boys. At this dark and hopeless +moment an inspiration burst upon him! Nothing less than a great, +magnificent inspiration. + +He took up his brush and went tranquilly to work. Ben Rogers hove in +sight presently--the very boy, of all boys, whose ridicule he had been +dreading. Ben's gait was the hop-skip-and-jump--proof enough that his +heart was light and his anticipations high. He was eating an apple, and +giving a long, melodious whoop, at intervals, followed by a deep-toned +ding-dong-dong, ding-dong-dong, for he was personating a steamboat. As +he drew near, he slackened speed, took the middle of the street, leaned +far over to starboard and rounded to ponderously and with laborious pomp +and circumstance--for he was personating the Big Missouri, and considered +himself to be drawing nine feet of water. He was boat and captain and +engine-bells combined, so he had to imagine himself standing on his own +hurricane-deck giving the orders and executing them: + +"Stop her, sir! Ting-a-ling-ling!" The headway ran almost out, and he +drew up slowly toward the sidewalk. + +"Ship up to back! Ting-a-ling-ling!" His arms straightened and stiffened +down his sides. + +"Set her back on the stabboard! Ting-a-ling-ling! Chow! ch-chow-wow! +Chow!" His right hand, mean-time, describing stately circles--for it was +representing a forty-foot wheel. + +"Let her go back on the labboard! Ting-a-ling-ling! Chow-ch-chow-chow!" +The left hand began to describe circles. + +"Stop the stabboard! Ting-a-ling-ling! Stop the labboard! Come ahead on +the stabboard! Stop her! Let your outside turn over slow! Ting-a-ling-ling! +Chow-ow-ow! Get out that head-line! _lively_ now! Come--out with +your spring-line--what're you about there! Take a turn round that stump +with the bight of it! Stand by that stage, now--let her go! Done with +the engines, sir! Ting-a-ling-ling! SH'T! S'H'T! SH'T!" (trying the +gauge-cocks). + +Tom went on whitewashing--paid no attention to the steamboat. Ben stared +a moment and then said: "_Hi-Yi! You're_ up a stump, ain't you!" + +No answer. Tom surveyed his last touch with the eye of an artist, then +he gave his brush another gentle sweep and surveyed the result, as +before. Ben ranged up alongside of him. Tom's mouth watered for the +apple, but he stuck to his work. Ben said: + +"Hello, old chap, you got to work, hey?" + +Tom wheeled suddenly and said: + +"Why, it's you, Ben! I warn't noticing." + +"Say--I'm going in a-swimming, I am. Don't you wish you could? But of +course you'd druther _work_--wouldn't you? Course you would!" + +Tom contemplated the boy a bit, and said: + +"What do you call work?" + +"Why, ain't _that_ work?" + +Tom resumed his whitewashing, and answered carelessly: + +"Well, maybe it is, and maybe it ain't. All I know, is, it suits Tom +Sawyer." + +"Oh come, now, you don't mean to let on that you _like_ it?" + +The brush continued to move. + +"Like it? Well, I don't see why I oughtn't to like it. Does a boy get a +chance to whitewash a fence every day?" + +That put the thing in a new light. Ben stopped nibbling his apple. +Tom swept his brush daintily back and forth--stepped back to note the +effect--added a touch here and there--criticised the effect again--Ben +watching every move and getting more and more interested, more and more +absorbed. Presently he said: + +"Say, Tom, let _me_ whitewash a little." + +Tom considered, was about to consent; but he altered his mind: + +"No--no--I reckon it wouldn't hardly do, Ben. You see, Aunt Polly's awful +particular about this fence--right here on the street, you know--but if it +was the back fence I wouldn't mind and _she_ wouldn't. Yes, she's awful +particular about this fence; it's got to be done very careful; I reckon +there ain't one boy in a thousand, maybe two thousand, that can do it +the way it's got to be done." + +"No--is that so? Oh come, now--lemme just try. Only just a little--I'd let +_you_, if you was me, Tom." + +"Ben, I'd like to, honest injun; but Aunt Polly--well, Jim wanted to do +it, but she wouldn't let him; Sid wanted to do it, and she wouldn't let +Sid. Now don't you see how I'm fixed? If you was to tackle this fence +and anything was to happen to it--" + +"Oh, shucks, I'll be just as careful. Now lemme try. Say--I'll give you +the core of my apple." + +"Well, here--No, Ben, now don't. I'm afeard--" + +"I'll give you _all_ of it!" + +Tom gave up the brush with reluctance in his face, but alacrity in his +heart. And while the late steamer Big Missouri worked and sweated in the +sun, the retired artist sat on a barrel in the shade close by, +dangled his legs, munched his apple, and planned the slaughter of more +innocents. There was no lack of material; boys happened along every +little while; they came to jeer, but remained to whitewash. By the time +Ben was fagged out, Tom had traded the next chance to Billy Fisher for +a kite, in good repair; and when he played out, Johnny Miller bought in +for a dead rat and a string to swing it with--and so on, and so on, hour +after hour. And when the middle of the afternoon came, from being a +poor poverty-stricken boy in the morning, Tom was literally rolling in +wealth. He had besides the things before mentioned, twelve marbles, part +of a jews-harp, a piece of blue bottle-glass to look through, a spool +cannon, a key that wouldn't unlock anything, a fragment of chalk, a +glass stopper of a decanter, a tin soldier, a couple of tadpoles, +six fire-crackers, a kitten with only one eye, a brass door-knob, a +dog-collar--but no dog--the handle of a knife, four pieces of orange-peel, +and a dilapidated old window sash. + +He had had a nice, good, idle time all the while--plenty of company--and +the fence had three coats of whitewash on it! If he hadn't run out of +whitewash he would have bankrupted every boy in the village. + +Tom said to himself that it was not such a hollow world, after all. He +had discovered a great law of human action, without knowing it--namely, +that in order to make a man or a boy covet a thing, it is only necessary +to make the thing difficult to attain. If he had been a great and +wise philosopher, like the writer of this book, he would now have +comprehended that Work consists of whatever a body is _obliged_ to do, +and that Play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do. And +this would help him to understand why constructing artificial flowers or +performing on a tread-mill is work, while rolling ten-pins or climbing +Mont Blanc is only amusement. There are wealthy gentlemen in England +who drive four-horse passenger-coaches twenty or thirty miles on a +daily line, in the summer, because the privilege costs them considerable +money; but if they were offered wages for the service, that would turn +it into work and then they would resign. + +The boy mused awhile over the substantial change which had taken place +in his worldly circumstances, and then wended toward headquarters to +report. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +TOM presented himself before Aunt Polly, who was sitting by an +open window in a pleasant rearward apartment, which was bedroom, +breakfast-room, dining-room, and library, combined. The balmy summer +air, the restful quiet, the odor of the flowers, and the drowsing +murmur of the bees had had their effect, and she was nodding over her +knitting--for she had no company but the cat, and it was asleep in her +lap. Her spectacles were propped up on her gray head for safety. She had +thought that of course Tom had deserted long ago, and she wondered at +seeing him place himself in her power again in this intrepid way. He +said: "Mayn't I go and play now, aunt?" + +"What, a'ready? How much have you done?" + +"It's all done, aunt." + +"Tom, don't lie to me--I can't bear it." + +"I ain't, aunt; it _is_ all done." + +Aunt Polly placed small trust in such evidence. She went out to see for +herself; and she would have been content to find twenty per cent. of +Tom's statement true. When she found the entire fence white-washed, and +not only whitewashed but elaborately coated and recoated, and even a +streak added to the ground, her astonishment was almost unspeakable. She +said: + +"Well, I never! There's no getting round it, you can work when you're a +mind to, Tom." And then she diluted the compliment by adding, "But it's +powerful seldom you're a mind to, I'm bound to say. Well, go 'long and +play; but mind you get back some time in a week, or I'll tan you." + +She was so overcome by the splendor of his achievement that she took +him into the closet and selected a choice apple and delivered it to him, +along with an improving lecture upon the added value and flavor a treat +took to itself when it came without sin through virtuous effort. +And while she closed with a happy Scriptural flourish, he "hooked" a +doughnut. + +Then he skipped out, and saw Sid just starting up the outside stairway +that led to the back rooms on the second floor. Clods were handy and +the air was full of them in a twinkling. They raged around Sid like a +hail-storm; and before Aunt Polly could collect her surprised faculties +and sally to the rescue, six or seven clods had taken personal effect, +and Tom was over the fence and gone. There was a gate, but as a general +thing he was too crowded for time to make use of it. His soul was at +peace, now that he had settled with Sid for calling attention to his +black thread and getting him into trouble. + +Tom skirted the block, and came round into a muddy alley that led by the +back of his aunt's cow-stable. He presently got safely beyond the reach +of capture and punishment, and hastened toward the public square of the +village, where two "military" companies of boys had met for conflict, +according to previous appointment. Tom was General of one of these +armies, Joe Harper (a bosom friend) General of the other. These two +great commanders did not condescend to fight in person--that being better +suited to the still smaller fry--but sat together on an eminence +and conducted the field operations by orders delivered through +aides-de-camp. Tom's army won a great victory, after a long and +hard-fought battle. Then the dead were counted, prisoners exchanged, +the terms of the next disagreement agreed upon, and the day for the +necessary battle appointed; after which the armies fell into line and +marched away, and Tom turned homeward alone. + +As he was passing by the house where Jeff Thatcher lived, he saw a new +girl in the garden--a lovely little blue-eyed creature with yellow +hair plaited into two long-tails, white summer frock and embroidered +pan-talettes. The fresh-crowned hero fell without firing a shot. A +certain Amy Lawrence vanished out of his heart and left not even a +memory of herself behind. He had thought he loved her to distraction; +he had regarded his passion as adoration; and behold it was only a poor +little evanescent partiality. He had been months winning her; she had +confessed hardly a week ago; he had been the happiest and the proudest +boy in the world only seven short days, and here in one instant of time +she had gone out of his heart like a casual stranger whose visit is +done. + +He worshipped this new angel with furtive eye, till he saw that she had +discovered him; then he pretended he did not know she was present, and +began to "show off" in all sorts of absurd boyish ways, in order to win +her admiration. He kept up this grotesque foolishness for some time; +but by-and-by, while he was in the midst of some dangerous gymnastic +performances, he glanced aside and saw that the little girl was wending +her way toward the house. Tom came up to the fence and leaned on it, +grieving, and hoping she would tarry yet awhile longer. She halted a +moment on the steps and then moved toward the door. Tom heaved a great +sigh as she put her foot on the threshold. But his face lit up, +right away, for she tossed a pansy over the fence a moment before she +disappeared. + +The boy ran around and stopped within a foot or two of the flower, and +then shaded his eyes with his hand and began to look down street as +if he had discovered something of interest going on in that direction. +Presently he picked up a straw and began trying to balance it on his +nose, with his head tilted far back; and as he moved from side to side, +in his efforts, he edged nearer and nearer toward the pansy; finally his +bare foot rested upon it, his pliant toes closed upon it, and he hopped +away with the treasure and disappeared round the corner. But only for a +minute--only while he could button the flower inside his jacket, next +his heart--or next his stomach, possibly, for he was not much posted in +anatomy, and not hypercritical, anyway. + +He returned, now, and hung about the fence till nightfall, "showing +off," as before; but the girl never exhibited herself again, though Tom +comforted himself a little with the hope that she had been near some +window, meantime, and been aware of his attentions. Finally he strode +home reluctantly, with his poor head full of visions. + +All through supper his spirits were so high that his aunt wondered "what +had got into the child." He took a good scolding about clodding Sid, and +did not seem to mind it in the least. He tried to steal sugar under his +aunt's very nose, and got his knuckles rapped for it. He said: + +"Aunt, you don't whack Sid when he takes it." + +"Well, Sid don't torment a body the way you do. You'd be always into +that sugar if I warn't watching you." + +Presently she stepped into the kitchen, and Sid, happy in his immunity, +reached for the sugar-bowl--a sort of glorying over Tom which was +wellnigh unbearable. But Sid's fingers slipped and the bowl dropped and +broke. Tom was in ecstasies. In such ecstasies that he even controlled +his tongue and was silent. He said to himself that he would not speak a +word, even when his aunt came in, but would sit perfectly still till she +asked who did the mischief; and then he would tell, and there would be +nothing so good in the world as to see that pet model "catch it." He was +so brimful of exultation that he could hardly hold himself when the old +lady came back and stood above the wreck discharging lightnings of wrath +from over her spectacles. He said to himself, "Now it's coming!" And the +next instant he was sprawling on the floor! The potent palm was uplifted +to strike again when Tom cried out: + +"Hold on, now, what 'er you belting _me_ for?--Sid broke it!" + +Aunt Polly paused, perplexed, and Tom looked for healing pity. But when +she got her tongue again, she only said: + +"Umf! Well, you didn't get a lick amiss, I reckon. You been into some +other audacious mischief when I wasn't around, like enough." + +Then her conscience reproached her, and she yearned to say something +kind and loving; but she judged that this would be construed into a +confession that she had been in the wrong, and discipline forbade that. +So she kept silence, and went about her affairs with a troubled heart. +Tom sulked in a corner and exalted his woes. He knew that in her heart +his aunt was on her knees to him, and he was morosely gratified by the +consciousness of it. He would hang out no signals, he would take notice +of none. He knew that a yearning glance fell upon him, now and then, +through a film of tears, but he refused recognition of it. He pictured +himself lying sick unto death and his aunt bending over him beseeching +one little forgiving word, but he would turn his face to the wall, and +die with that word unsaid. Ah, how would she feel then? And he pictured +himself brought home from the river, dead, with his curls all wet, and +his sore heart at rest. How she would throw herself upon him, and how +her tears would fall like rain, and her lips pray God to give her back +her boy and she would never, never abuse him any more! But he would +lie there cold and white and make no sign--a poor little sufferer, whose +griefs were at an end. He so worked upon his feelings with the pathos of +these dreams, that he had to keep swallowing, he was so like to choke; +and his eyes swam in a blur of water, which overflowed when he winked, +and ran down and trickled from the end of his nose. And such a luxury to +him was this petting of his sorrows, that he could not bear to have any +worldly cheeriness or any grating delight intrude upon it; it was too +sacred for such contact; and so, presently, when his cousin Mary danced +in, all alive with the joy of seeing home again after an age-long visit +of one week to the country, he got up and moved in clouds and darkness +out at one door as she brought song and sunshine in at the other. + +He wandered far from the accustomed haunts of boys, and sought desolate +places that were in harmony with his spirit. A log raft in the river +invited him, and he seated himself on its outer edge and contemplated +the dreary vastness of the stream, wishing, the while, that he could +only be drowned, all at once and unconsciously, without undergoing the +uncomfortable routine devised by nature. Then he thought of his flower. +He got it out, rumpled and wilted, and it mightily increased his dismal +felicity. He wondered if she would pity him if she knew? Would she +cry, and wish that she had a right to put her arms around his neck and +comfort him? Or would she turn coldly away like all the hollow world? +This picture brought such an agony of pleasurable suffering that he +worked it over and over again in his mind and set it up in new and +varied lights, till he wore it threadbare. At last he rose up sighing +and departed in the darkness. + +About half-past nine or ten o'clock he came along the deserted street to +where the Adored Unknown lived; he paused a moment; no sound fell upon +his listening ear; a candle was casting a dull glow upon the curtain +of a second-story window. Was the sacred presence there? He climbed the +fence, threaded his stealthy way through the plants, till he stood under +that window; he looked up at it long, and with emotion; then he laid him +down on the ground under it, disposing himself upon his back, with his +hands clasped upon his breast and holding his poor wilted flower. +And thus he would die--out in the cold world, with no shelter over his +homeless head, no friendly hand to wipe the death-damps from his brow, +no loving face to bend pityingly over him when the great agony came. And +thus _she_ would see him when she looked out upon the glad morning, and +oh! would she drop one little tear upon his poor, lifeless form, would +she heave one little sigh to see a bright young life so rudely blighted, +so untimely cut down? + +The window went up, a maid-servant's discordant voice profaned the holy +calm, and a deluge of water drenched the prone martyr's remains! + +The strangling hero sprang up with a relieving snort. There was a whiz +as of a missile in the air, mingled with the murmur of a curse, a sound +as of shivering glass followed, and a small, vague form went over the +fence and shot away in the gloom. + +Not long after, as Tom, all undressed for bed, was surveying his +drenched garments by the light of a tallow dip, Sid woke up; but if he +had any dim idea of making any "references to allusions," he thought +better of it and held his peace, for there was danger in Tom's eye. + +Tom turned in without the added vexation of prayers, and Sid made mental +note of the omission. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE sun rose upon a tranquil world, and beamed down upon the peaceful +village like a benediction. Breakfast over, Aunt Polly had family +worship: it began with a prayer built from the ground up of solid +courses of Scriptural quotations, welded together with a thin mortar of +originality; and from the summit of this she delivered a grim chapter of +the Mosaic Law, as from Sinai. + +Then Tom girded up his loins, so to speak, and went to work to "get +his verses." Sid had learned his lesson days before. Tom bent all his +energies to the memorizing of five verses, and he chose part of the +Sermon on the Mount, because he could find no verses that were shorter. +At the end of half an hour Tom had a vague general idea of his lesson, +but no more, for his mind was traversing the whole field of human +thought, and his hands were busy with distracting recreations. Mary took +his book to hear him recite, and he tried to find his way through the +fog: + +"Blessed are the--a--a--" + +"Poor"-- + +"Yes--poor; blessed are the poor--a--a--" + +"In spirit--" + +"In spirit; blessed are the poor in spirit, for they--they--" + +"_Theirs_--" + +"For _theirs_. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom +of heaven. Blessed are they that mourn, for they--they--" + +"Sh--" + +"For they--a--" + +"S, H, A--" + +"For they S, H--Oh, I don't know what it is!" + +"_Shall_!" + +"Oh, _shall_! for they shall--for they shall--a--a--shall mourn--a--a--blessed +are they that shall--they that--a--they that shall mourn, for they +shall--a--shall _what_? Why don't you tell me, Mary?--what do you want to +be so mean for?" + +"Oh, Tom, you poor thick-headed thing, I'm not teasing you. I wouldn't +do that. You must go and learn it again. Don't you be discouraged, Tom, +you'll manage it--and if you do, I'll give you something ever so nice. +There, now, that's a good boy." + +"All right! What is it, Mary, tell me what it is." + +"Never you mind, Tom. You know if I say it's nice, it is nice." + +"You bet you that's so, Mary. All right, I'll tackle it again." + +And he did "tackle it again"--and under the double pressure of curiosity +and prospective gain he did it with such spirit that he accomplished a +shining success. Mary gave him a brand-new "Barlow" knife worth twelve +and a half cents; and the convulsion of delight that swept his system +shook him to his foundations. True, the knife would not cut anything, +but it was a "sure-enough" Barlow, and there was inconceivable grandeur +in that--though where the Western boys ever got the idea that such a +weapon could possibly be counterfeited to its injury is an imposing +mystery and will always remain so, perhaps. Tom contrived to scarify the +cupboard with it, and was arranging to begin on the bureau, when he was +called off to dress for Sunday-school. + +Mary gave him a tin basin of water and a piece of soap, and he went +outside the door and set the basin on a little bench there; then he +dipped the soap in the water and laid it down; turned up his sleeves; +poured out the water on the ground, gently, and then entered the kitchen +and began to wipe his face diligently on the towel behind the door. But +Mary removed the towel and said: + +"Now ain't you ashamed, Tom. You mustn't be so bad. Water won't hurt +you." + +Tom was a trifle disconcerted. The basin was refilled, and this time he +stood over it a little while, gathering resolution; took in a big breath +and began. When he entered the kitchen presently, with both eyes shut +and groping for the towel with his hands, an honorable testimony of +suds and water was dripping from his face. But when he emerged from +the towel, he was not yet satisfactory, for the clean territory stopped +short at his chin and his jaws, like a mask; below and beyond this line +there was a dark expanse of unirrigated soil that spread downward in +front and backward around his neck. Mary took him in hand, and when she +was done with him he was a man and a brother, without distinction of +color, and his saturated hair was neatly brushed, and its short curls +wrought into a dainty and symmetrical general effect. [He privately +smoothed out the curls, with labor and difficulty, and plastered his +hair close down to his head; for he held curls to be effeminate, and his +own filled his life with bitterness.] Then Mary got out a suit of his +clothing that had been used only on Sundays during two years--they were +simply called his "other clothes"--and so by that we know the size of his +wardrobe. The girl "put him to rights" after he had dressed himself; +she buttoned his neat roundabout up to his chin, turned his vast shirt +collar down over his shoulders, brushed him off and crowned him with +his speckled straw hat. He now looked exceedingly improved and +uncomfortable. He was fully as uncomfortable as he looked; for there +was a restraint about whole clothes and cleanliness that galled him. He +hoped that Mary would forget his shoes, but the hope was blighted; she +coated them thoroughly with tallow, as was the custom, and brought +them out. He lost his temper and said he was always being made to do +everything he didn't want to do. But Mary said, persuasively: + +"Please, Tom--that's a good boy." + +So he got into the shoes snarling. Mary was soon ready, and the three +children set out for Sunday-school--a place that Tom hated with his whole +heart; but Sid and Mary were fond of it. + +Sabbath-school hours were from nine to half-past ten; and then church +service. Two of the children always remained for the sermon voluntarily, +and the other always remained too--for stronger reasons. The church's +high-backed, uncushioned pews would seat about three hundred persons; +the edifice was but a small, plain affair, with a sort of pine board +tree-box on top of it for a steeple. At the door Tom dropped back a step +and accosted a Sunday-dressed comrade: + +"Say, Billy, got a yaller ticket?" + +"Yes." + +"What'll you take for her?" + +"What'll you give?" + +"Piece of lickrish and a fish-hook." + +"Less see 'em." + +Tom exhibited. They were satisfactory, and the property changed hands. +Then Tom traded a couple of white alleys for three red tickets, and some +small trifle or other for a couple of blue ones. He waylaid other +boys as they came, and went on buying tickets of various colors ten +or fifteen minutes longer. He entered the church, now, with a swarm +of clean and noisy boys and girls, proceeded to his seat and started +a quarrel with the first boy that came handy. The teacher, a grave, +elderly man, interfered; then turned his back a moment and Tom pulled a +boy's hair in the next bench, and was absorbed in his book when the boy +turned around; stuck a pin in another boy, presently, in order to hear +him say "Ouch!" and got a new reprimand from his teacher. Tom's whole +class were of a pattern--restless, noisy, and troublesome. When they came +to recite their lessons, not one of them knew his verses perfectly, but +had to be prompted all along. However, they worried through, and each +got his reward--in small blue tickets, each with a passage of Scripture +on it; each blue ticket was pay for two verses of the recitation. Ten +blue tickets equalled a red one, and could be exchanged for it; ten red +tickets equalled a yellow one; for ten yellow tickets the superintendent +gave a very plainly bound Bible (worth forty cents in those easy +times) to the pupil. How many of my readers would have the industry and +application to memorize two thousand verses, even for a Dore Bible? And +yet Mary had acquired two Bibles in this way--it was the patient work of +two years--and a boy of German parentage had won four or five. He once +recited three thousand verses without stopping; but the strain upon his +mental faculties was too great, and he was little better than an idiot +from that day forth--a grievous misfortune for the school, for on great +occasions, before company, the superintendent (as Tom expressed it) +had always made this boy come out and "spread himself." Only the older +pupils managed to keep their tickets and stick to their tedious work +long enough to get a Bible, and so the delivery of one of these prizes +was a rare and noteworthy circumstance; the successful pupil was so +great and conspicuous for that day that on the spot every scholar's +heart was fired with a fresh ambition that often lasted a couple +of weeks. It is possible that Tom's mental stomach had never really +hungered for one of those prizes, but unquestionably his entire being +had for many a day longed for the glory and the eclat that came with it. + +In due course the superintendent stood up in front of the pulpit, with +a closed hymn-book in his hand and his forefinger inserted between its +leaves, and commanded attention. When a Sunday-school superintendent +makes his customary little speech, a hymn-book in the hand is as +necessary as is the inevitable sheet of music in the hand of a singer +who stands forward on the platform and sings a solo at a concert--though +why, is a mystery: for neither the hymn-book nor the sheet of music +is ever referred to by the sufferer. This superintendent was a slim +creature of thirty-five, with a sandy goatee and short sandy hair; he +wore a stiff standing-collar whose upper edge almost reached his ears +and whose sharp points curved forward abreast the corners of his mouth--a +fence that compelled a straight lookout ahead, and a turning of the +whole body when a side view was required; his chin was propped on a +spreading cravat which was as broad and as long as a bank-note, and had +fringed ends; his boot toes were turned sharply up, in the fashion +of the day, like sleigh-runners--an effect patiently and laboriously +produced by the young men by sitting with their toes pressed against a +wall for hours together. Mr. Walters was very earnest of mien, and very +sincere and honest at heart; and he held sacred things and places +in such reverence, and so separated them from worldly matters, that +unconsciously to himself his Sunday-school voice had acquired a peculiar +intonation which was wholly absent on week-days. He began after this +fashion: + +"Now, children, I want you all to sit up just as straight and pretty as +you can and give me all your attention for a minute or two. There--that +is it. That is the way good little boys and girls should do. I see one +little girl who is looking out of the window--I am afraid she thinks I +am out there somewhere--perhaps up in one of the trees making a speech +to the little birds. [Applausive titter.] I want to tell you how good it +makes me feel to see so many bright, clean little faces assembled in a +place like this, learning to do right and be good." And so forth and so +on. It is not necessary to set down the rest of the oration. It was of a +pattern which does not vary, and so it is familiar to us all. + +The latter third of the speech was marred by the resumption of fights +and other recreations among certain of the bad boys, and by fidgetings +and whisperings that extended far and wide, washing even to the bases of +isolated and incorruptible rocks like Sid and Mary. But now every sound +ceased suddenly, with the subsidence of Mr. Walters' voice, and the +conclusion of the speech was received with a burst of silent gratitude. + +A good part of the whispering had been occasioned by an event which was +more or less rare--the entrance of visitors: lawyer Thatcher, accompanied +by a very feeble and aged man; a fine, portly, middle-aged gentleman +with iron-gray hair; and a dignified lady who was doubtless the latter's +wife. The lady was leading a child. Tom had been restless and full of +chafings and repinings; conscience-smitten, too--he could not meet Amy +Lawrence's eye, he could not brook her loving gaze. But when he saw this +small newcomer his soul was all ablaze with bliss in a moment. The next +moment he was "showing off" with all his might--cuffing boys, pulling +hair, making faces--in a word, using every art that seemed likely to +fascinate a girl and win her applause. His exaltation had but one +alloy--the memory of his humiliation in this angel's garden--and that +record in sand was fast washing out, under the waves of happiness that +were sweeping over it now. + +The visitors were given the highest seat of honor, and as soon as Mr. +Walters' speech was finished, he introduced them to the school. The +middle-aged man turned out to be a prodigious personage--no less a one +than the county judge--altogether the most august creation these children +had ever looked upon--and they wondered what kind of material he was made +of--and they half wanted to hear him roar, and were half afraid he might, +too. He was from Constantinople, twelve miles away--so he had travelled, +and seen the world--these very eyes had looked upon the county +court-house--which was said to have a tin roof. The awe which these +reflections inspired was attested by the impressive silence and the +ranks of staring eyes. This was the great Judge Thatcher, brother of +their own lawyer. Jeff Thatcher immediately went forward, to be familiar +with the great man and be envied by the school. It would have been music +to his soul to hear the whisperings: + +"Look at him, Jim! He's a going up there. Say--look! he's a going to +shake hands with him--he _is_ shaking hands with him! By jings, don't you +wish you was Jeff?" + +Mr. Walters fell to "showing off," with all sorts of official bustlings +and activities, giving orders, delivering judgments, discharging +directions here, there, everywhere that he could find a target. The +librarian "showed off"--running hither and thither with his arms full of +books and making a deal of the splutter and fuss that insect authority +delights in. The young lady teachers "showed off"--bending sweetly over +pupils that were lately being boxed, lifting pretty warning fingers +at bad little boys and patting good ones lovingly. The young gentlemen +teachers "showed off" with small scoldings and other little displays of +authority and fine attention to discipline--and most of the teachers, of +both sexes, found business up at the library, by the pulpit; and it was +business that frequently had to be done over again two or three times +(with much seeming vexation). The little girls "showed off" in various +ways, and the little boys "showed off" with such diligence that the air +was thick with paper wads and the murmur of scufflings. And above it +all the great man sat and beamed a majestic judicial smile upon all +the house, and warmed himself in the sun of his own grandeur--for he was +"showing off," too. + +There was only one thing wanting to make Mr. Walters' ecstasy complete, +and that was a chance to deliver a Bible-prize and exhibit a prodigy. +Several pupils had a few yellow tickets, but none had enough--he had been +around among the star pupils inquiring. He would have given worlds, now, +to have that German lad back again with a sound mind. + +And now at this moment, when hope was dead, Tom Sawyer came forward with +nine yellow tickets, nine red tickets, and ten blue ones, and demanded +a Bible. This was a thunderbolt out of a clear sky. Walters was not +expecting an application from this source for the next ten years. But +there was no getting around it--here were the certified checks, and they +were good for their face. Tom was therefore elevated to a place with +the Judge and the other elect, and the great news was announced from +headquarters. It was the most stunning surprise of the decade, and +so profound was the sensation that it lifted the new hero up to the +judicial one's altitude, and the school had two marvels to gaze upon +in place of one. The boys were all eaten up with envy--but those that +suffered the bitterest pangs were those who perceived too late that they +themselves had contributed to this hated splendor by trading tickets to +Tom for the wealth he had amassed in selling whitewashing privileges. +These despised themselves, as being the dupes of a wily fraud, a +guileful snake in the grass. + +The prize was delivered to Tom with as much effusion as the +superintendent could pump up under the circumstances; but it lacked +somewhat of the true gush, for the poor fellow's instinct taught him +that there was a mystery here that could not well bear the light, +perhaps; it was simply preposterous that this boy had warehoused two +thousand sheaves of Scriptural wisdom on his premises--a dozen would +strain his capacity, without a doubt. + +Amy Lawrence was proud and glad, and she tried to make Tom see it in +her face--but he wouldn't look. She wondered; then she was just a grain +troubled; next a dim suspicion came and went--came again; she watched; +a furtive glance told her worlds--and then her heart broke, and she was +jealous, and angry, and the tears came and she hated everybody. Tom most +of all (she thought). + +Tom was introduced to the Judge; but his tongue was tied, his breath +would hardly come, his heart quaked--partly because of the awful +greatness of the man, but mainly because he was her parent. He would +have liked to fall down and worship him, if it were in the dark. The +Judge put his hand on Tom's head and called him a fine little man, and +asked him what his name was. The boy stammered, gasped, and got it out: + +"Tom." + +"Oh, no, not Tom--it is--" + +"Thomas." + +"Ah, that's it. I thought there was more to it, maybe. That's very well. +But you've another one I daresay, and you'll tell it to me, won't you?" + +"Tell the gentleman your other name, Thomas," said Walters, "and say +sir. You mustn't forget your manners." + +"Thomas Sawyer--sir." + +"That's it! That's a good boy. Fine boy. Fine, manly little fellow. Two +thousand verses is a great many--very, very great many. And you never can +be sorry for the trouble you took to learn them; for knowledge is worth +more than anything there is in the world; it's what makes great men +and good men; you'll be a great man and a good man yourself, some +day, Thomas, and then you'll look back and say, It's all owing to the +precious Sunday-school privileges of my boyhood--it's all owing to +my dear teachers that taught me to learn--it's all owing to the good +superintendent, who encouraged me, and watched over me, and gave me a +beautiful Bible--a splendid elegant Bible--to keep and have it all for my +own, always--it's all owing to right bringing up! That is what you will +say, Thomas--and you wouldn't take any money for those two thousand +verses--no indeed you wouldn't. And now you wouldn't mind telling me and +this lady some of the things you've learned--no, I know you wouldn't--for +we are proud of little boys that learn. Now, no doubt you know the names +of all the twelve disciples. Won't you tell us the names of the first +two that were appointed?" + +Tom was tugging at a button-hole and looking sheepish. He blushed, +now, and his eyes fell. Mr. Walters' heart sank within him. He said +to himself, it is not possible that the boy can answer the simplest +question--why _did_ the Judge ask him? Yet he felt obliged to speak up +and say: + +"Answer the gentleman, Thomas--don't be afraid." + +Tom still hung fire. + +"Now I know you'll tell me," said the lady. "The names of the first two +disciples were--" + +"_David And Goliah!_" + +Let us draw the curtain of charity over the rest of the scene. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +ABOUT half-past ten the cracked bell of the small church began to ring, +and presently the people began to gather for the morning sermon. The +Sunday-school children distributed themselves about the house and +occupied pews with their parents, so as to be under supervision. Aunt +Polly came, and Tom and Sid and Mary sat with her--Tom being placed next +the aisle, in order that he might be as far away from the open window +and the seductive outside summer scenes as possible. The crowd filed up +the aisles: the aged and needy postmaster, who had seen better days; +the mayor and his wife--for they had a mayor there, among other +unnecessaries; the justice of the peace; the widow Douglass, fair, +smart, and forty, a generous, good-hearted soul and well-to-do, her hill +mansion the only palace in the town, and the most hospitable and much +the most lavish in the matter of festivities that St. Petersburg could +boast; the bent and venerable Major and Mrs. Ward; lawyer Riverson, the +new notable from a distance; next the belle of the village, followed by +a troop of lawn-clad and ribbon-decked young heart-breakers; then all +the young clerks in town in a body--for they had stood in the vestibule +sucking their cane-heads, a circling wall of oiled and simpering +admirers, till the last girl had run their gantlet; and last of all came +the Model Boy, Willie Mufferson, taking as heedful care of his mother as +if she were cut glass. He always brought his mother to church, and was +the pride of all the matrons. The boys all hated him, he was so +good. And besides, he had been "thrown up to them" so much. His +white handkerchief was hanging out of his pocket behind, as usual on +Sundays--accidentally. Tom had no handkerchief, and he looked upon boys +who had as snobs. + +The congregation being fully assembled, now, the bell rang once more, +to warn laggards and stragglers, and then a solemn hush fell upon the +church which was only broken by the tittering and whispering of the +choir in the gallery. The choir always tittered and whispered all +through service. There was once a church choir that was not ill-bred, +but I have forgotten where it was, now. It was a great many years ago, +and I can scarcely remember anything about it, but I think it was in +some foreign country. + +The minister gave out the hymn, and read it through with a relish, in a +peculiar style which was much admired in that part of the country. His +voice began on a medium key and climbed steadily up till it reached a +certain point, where it bore with strong emphasis upon the topmost word +and then plunged down as if from a spring-board: + +Shall I be car-ri-ed toe the skies, on flow'ry _beds_ of ease, + +Whilst others fight to win the prize, and sail thro' _blood_-y seas? + +He was regarded as a wonderful reader. At church "sociables" he was +always called upon to read poetry; and when he was through, the ladies +would lift up their hands and let them fall helplessly in their laps, +and "wall" their eyes, and shake their heads, as much as to say, "Words +cannot express it; it is too beautiful, TOO beautiful for this mortal +earth." + +After the hymn had been sung, the Rev. Mr. Sprague turned himself into +a bulletin-board, and read off "notices" of meetings and societies and +things till it seemed that the list would stretch out to the crack of +doom--a queer custom which is still kept up in America, even in cities, +away here in this age of abundant newspapers. Often, the less there is +to justify a traditional custom, the harder it is to get rid of it. + +And now the minister prayed. A good, generous prayer it was, and went +into details: it pleaded for the church, and the little children of the +church; for the other churches of the village; for the village itself; +for the county; for the State; for the State officers; for the United +States; for the churches of the United States; for Congress; for the +President; for the officers of the Government; for poor sailors, tossed +by stormy seas; for the oppressed millions groaning under the heel of +European monarchies and Oriental despotisms; for such as have the light +and the good tidings, and yet have not eyes to see nor ears to hear +withal; for the heathen in the far islands of the sea; and closed with +a supplication that the words he was about to speak might find grace +and favor, and be as seed sown in fertile ground, yielding in time a +grateful harvest of good. Amen. + +There was a rustling of dresses, and the standing congregation sat down. +The boy whose history this book relates did not enjoy the prayer, he +only endured it--if he even did that much. He was restive all through it; +he kept tally of the details of the prayer, unconsciously--for he was not +listening, but he knew the ground of old, and the clergyman's regular +route over it--and when a little trifle of new matter was interlarded, +his ear detected it and his whole nature resented it; he considered +additions unfair, and scoundrelly. In the midst of the prayer a fly had +lit on the back of the pew in front of him and tortured his spirit by +calmly rubbing its hands together, embracing its head with its arms, and +polishing it so vigorously that it seemed to almost part company with +the body, and the slender thread of a neck was exposed to view; scraping +its wings with its hind legs and smoothing them to its body as if they +had been coat-tails; going through its whole toilet as tranquilly as if +it knew it was perfectly safe. As indeed it was; for as sorely as Tom's +hands itched to grab for it they did not dare--he believed his soul would +be instantly destroyed if he did such a thing while the prayer was going +on. But with the closing sentence his hand began to curve and steal +forward; and the instant the "Amen" was out the fly was a prisoner of +war. His aunt detected the act and made him let it go. + +The minister gave out his text and droned along monotonously through an +argument that was so prosy that many a head by and by began to nod--and +yet it was an argument that dealt in limitless fire and brimstone and +thinned the predestined elect down to a company so small as to be hardly +worth the saving. Tom counted the pages of the sermon; after church he +always knew how many pages there had been, but he seldom knew anything +else about the discourse. However, this time he was really interested +for a little while. The minister made a grand and moving picture of the +assembling together of the world's hosts at the millennium when the lion +and the lamb should lie down together and a little child should lead +them. But the pathos, the lesson, the moral of the great spectacle +were lost upon the boy; he only thought of the conspicuousness of the +principal character before the on-looking nations; his face lit with the +thought, and he said to himself that he wished he could be that child, +if it was a tame lion. + +Now he lapsed into suffering again, as the dry argument was resumed. +Presently he bethought him of a treasure he had and got it out. It was +a large black beetle with formidable jaws--a "pinchbug," he called it. It +was in a percussion-cap box. The first thing the beetle did was to +take him by the finger. A natural fillip followed, the beetle went +floundering into the aisle and lit on its back, and the hurt finger went +into the boy's mouth. The beetle lay there working its helpless legs, +unable to turn over. Tom eyed it, and longed for it; but it was safe out +of his reach. Other people uninterested in the sermon found relief in +the beetle, and they eyed it too. Presently a vagrant poodle dog came +idling along, sad at heart, lazy with the summer softness and the +quiet, weary of captivity, sighing for change. He spied the beetle; the +drooping tail lifted and wagged. He surveyed the prize; walked around +it; smelt at it from a safe distance; walked around it again; grew +bolder, and took a closer smell; then lifted his lip and made a gingerly +snatch at it, just missing it; made another, and another; began to enjoy +the diversion; subsided to his stomach with the beetle between his paws, +and continued his experiments; grew weary at last, and then indifferent +and absent-minded. His head nodded, and little by little his chin +descended and touched the enemy, who seized it. There was a sharp yelp, +a flirt of the poodle's head, and the beetle fell a couple of yards +away, and lit on its back once more. The neighboring spectators +shook with a gentle inward joy, several faces went behind fans and +hand-kerchiefs, and Tom was entirely happy. The dog looked foolish, +and probably felt so; but there was resentment in his heart, too, and a +craving for revenge. So he went to the beetle and began a wary attack on +it again; jumping at it from every point of a circle, lighting with his +fore-paws within an inch of the creature, making even closer snatches at +it with his teeth, and jerking his head till his ears flapped again. But +he grew tired once more, after a while; tried to amuse himself with a +fly but found no relief; followed an ant around, with his nose close +to the floor, and quickly wearied of that; yawned, sighed, forgot the +beetle entirely, and sat down on it. Then there was a wild yelp of agony +and the poodle went sailing up the aisle; the yelps continued, and so +did the dog; he crossed the house in front of the altar; he flew +down the other aisle; he crossed before the doors; he clamored up the +home-stretch; his anguish grew with his progress, till presently he was +but a woolly comet moving in its orbit with the gleam and the speed of +light. At last the frantic sufferer sheered from its course, and sprang +into its master's lap; he flung it out of the window, and the voice of +distress quickly thinned away and died in the distance. + +By this time the whole church was red-faced and suffocating with +suppressed laughter, and the sermon had come to a dead standstill. +The discourse was resumed presently, but it went lame and halting, all +possibility of impressiveness being at an end; for even the gravest +sentiments were constantly being received with a smothered burst of +unholy mirth, under cover of some remote pew-back, as if the poor parson +had said a rarely facetious thing. It was a genuine relief to the whole +congregation when the ordeal was over and the benediction pronounced. + +Tom Sawyer went home quite cheerful, thinking to himself that there was +some satisfaction about divine service when there was a bit of variety +in it. He had but one marring thought; he was willing that the dog +should play with his pinchbug, but he did not think it was upright in +him to carry it off. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +MONDAY morning found Tom Sawyer miserable. Monday morning always found +him so--because it began another week's slow suffering in school. He +generally began that day with wishing he had had no intervening holiday, +it made the going into captivity and fetters again so much more odious. + +Tom lay thinking. Presently it occurred to him that he wished he was +sick; then he could stay home from school. Here was a vague possibility. +He canvassed his system. No ailment was found, and he investigated +again. This time he thought he could detect colicky symptoms, and he +began to encourage them with considerable hope. But they soon grew +feeble, and presently died wholly away. He reflected further. Suddenly +he discovered something. One of his upper front teeth was loose. This +was lucky; he was about to begin to groan, as a "starter," as he +called it, when it occurred to him that if he came into court with that +argument, his aunt would pull it out, and that would hurt. So he thought +he would hold the tooth in reserve for the present, and seek further. +Nothing offered for some little time, and then he remembered hearing +the doctor tell about a certain thing that laid up a patient for two or +three weeks and threatened to make him lose a finger. So the boy eagerly +drew his sore toe from under the sheet and held it up for inspection. +But now he did not know the necessary symptoms. However, it seemed +well worth while to chance it, so he fell to groaning with considerable +spirit. + +But Sid slept on unconscious. + +Tom groaned louder, and fancied that he began to feel pain in the toe. + +No result from Sid. + +Tom was panting with his exertions by this time. He took a rest and then +swelled himself up and fetched a succession of admirable groans. + +Sid snored on. + +Tom was aggravated. He said, "Sid, Sid!" and shook him. This course +worked well, and Tom began to groan again. Sid yawned, stretched, then +brought himself up on his elbow with a snort, and began to stare at Tom. +Tom went on groaning. Sid said: + +"Tom! Say, Tom!" [No response.] "Here, Tom! TOM! What is the matter, +Tom?" And he shook him and looked in his face anxiously. + +Tom moaned out: + +"Oh, don't, Sid. Don't joggle me." + +"Why, what's the matter, Tom? I must call auntie." + +"No--never mind. It'll be over by and by, maybe. Don't call anybody." + +"But I must! _Don't_ groan so, Tom, it's awful. How long you been this +way?" + +"Hours. Ouch! Oh, don't stir so, Sid, you'll kill me." + +"Tom, why didn't you wake me sooner? Oh, Tom, _don't!_ It makes my flesh +crawl to hear you. Tom, what is the matter?" + +"I forgive you everything, Sid. [Groan.] Everything you've ever done to +me. When I'm gone--" + +"Oh, Tom, you ain't dying, are you? Don't, Tom--oh, don't. Maybe--" + +"I forgive everybody, Sid. [Groan.] Tell 'em so, Sid. And Sid, you give +my window-sash and my cat with one eye to that new girl that's come to +town, and tell her--" + +But Sid had snatched his clothes and gone. Tom was suffering in reality, +now, so handsomely was his imagination working, and so his groans had +gathered quite a genuine tone. + +Sid flew downstairs and said: + +"Oh, Aunt Polly, come! Tom's dying!" + +"Dying!" + +"Yes'm. Don't wait--come quick!" + +"Rubbage! I don't believe it!" + +But she fled upstairs, nevertheless, with Sid and Mary at her heels. +And her face grew white, too, and her lip trembled. When she reached the +bedside she gasped out: + +"You, Tom! Tom, what's the matter with you?" + +"Oh, auntie, I'm--" + +"What's the matter with you--what is the matter with you, child?" + +"Oh, auntie, my sore toe's mortified!" + +The old lady sank down into a chair and laughed a little, then cried a +little, then did both together. This restored her and she said: + +"Tom, what a turn you did give me. Now you shut up that nonsense and +climb out of this." + +The groans ceased and the pain vanished from the toe. The boy felt a +little foolish, and he said: + +"Aunt Polly, it _seemed_ mortified, and it hurt so I never minded my +tooth at all." + +"Your tooth, indeed! What's the matter with your tooth?" + +"One of them's loose, and it aches perfectly awful." + +"There, there, now, don't begin that groaning again. Open your mouth. +Well--your tooth _is_ loose, but you're not going to die about that. +Mary, get me a silk thread, and a chunk of fire out of the kitchen." + +Tom said: + +"Oh, please, auntie, don't pull it out. It don't hurt any more. I wish +I may never stir if it does. Please don't, auntie. I don't want to stay +home from school." + +"Oh, you don't, don't you? So all this row was because you thought you'd +get to stay home from school and go a-fishing? Tom, Tom, I love you so, +and you seem to try every way you can to break my old heart with your +outrageousness." By this time the dental instruments were ready. The old +lady made one end of the silk thread fast to Tom's tooth with a loop +and tied the other to the bedpost. Then she seized the chunk of fire and +suddenly thrust it almost into the boy's face. The tooth hung dangling +by the bedpost, now. + +But all trials bring their compensations. As Tom wended to school after +breakfast, he was the envy of every boy he met because the gap in his +upper row of teeth enabled him to expectorate in a new and admirable +way. He gathered quite a following of lads interested in the exhibition; +and one that had cut his finger and had been a centre of fascination and +homage up to this time, now found himself suddenly without an adherent, +and shorn of his glory. His heart was heavy, and he said with a disdain +which he did not feel that it wasn't anything to spit like Tom Sawyer; +but another boy said, "Sour grapes!" and he wandered away a dismantled +hero. + +Shortly Tom came upon the juvenile pariah of the village, Huckleberry +Finn, son of the town drunkard. Huckleberry was cordially hated and +dreaded by all the mothers of the town, because he was idle and lawless +and vulgar and bad--and because all their children admired him so, and +delighted in his forbidden society, and wished they dared to be like +him. Tom was like the rest of the respectable boys, in that he envied +Huckleberry his gaudy outcast condition, and was under strict orders +not to play with him. So he played with him every time he got a chance. +Huckleberry was always dressed in the cast-off clothes of full-grown +men, and they were in perennial bloom and fluttering with rags. His hat +was a vast ruin with a wide crescent lopped out of its brim; his coat, +when he wore one, hung nearly to his heels and had the rearward buttons +far down the back; but one suspender supported his trousers; the seat of +the trousers bagged low and contained nothing, the fringed legs dragged +in the dirt when not rolled up. + +Huckleberry came and went, at his own free will. He slept on doorsteps +in fine weather and in empty hogsheads in wet; he did not have to go to +school or to church, or call any being master or obey anybody; he could +go fishing or swimming when and where he chose, and stay as long as it +suited him; nobody forbade him to fight; he could sit up as late as he +pleased; he was always the first boy that went barefoot in the spring +and the last to resume leather in the fall; he never had to wash, nor +put on clean clothes; he could swear wonderfully. In a word, everything +that goes to make life precious that boy had. So thought every harassed, +hampered, respectable boy in St. Petersburg. + +Tom hailed the romantic outcast: + +"Hello, Huckleberry!" + +"Hello yourself, and see how you like it." + +"What's that you got?" + +"Dead cat." + +"Lemme see him, Huck. My, he's pretty stiff. Where'd you get him?" + +"Bought him off'n a boy." + +"What did you give?" + +"I give a blue ticket and a bladder that I got at the slaughter-house." + +"Where'd you get the blue ticket?" + +"Bought it off'n Ben Rogers two weeks ago for a hoop-stick." + +"Say--what is dead cats good for, Huck?" + +"Good for? Cure warts with." + +"No! Is that so? I know something that's better." + +"I bet you don't. What is it?" + +"Why, spunk-water." + +"Spunk-water! I wouldn't give a dern for spunk-water." + +"You wouldn't, wouldn't you? D'you ever try it?" + +"No, I hain't. But Bob Tanner did." + +"Who told you so!" + +"Why, he told Jeff Thatcher, and Jeff told Johnny Baker, and Johnny +told Jim Hollis, and Jim told Ben Rogers, and Ben told a nigger, and the +nigger told me. There now!" + +"Well, what of it? They'll all lie. Leastways all but the nigger. I +don't know _him_. But I never see a nigger that _wouldn't_ lie. Shucks! +Now you tell me how Bob Tanner done it, Huck." + +"Why, he took and dipped his hand in a rotten stump where the rain-water +was." + +"In the daytime?" + +"Certainly." + +"With his face to the stump?" + +"Yes. Least I reckon so." + +"Did he say anything?" + +"I don't reckon he did. I don't know." + +"Aha! Talk about trying to cure warts with spunk-water such a blame fool +way as that! Why, that ain't a-going to do any good. You got to go all +by yourself, to the middle of the woods, where you know there's a +spunk-water stump, and just as it's midnight you back up against the stump +and jam your hand in and say: + +'Barley-corn, barley-corn, injun-meal shorts, Spunk-water, spunk-water, +swaller these warts,' + +and then walk away quick, eleven steps, with your eyes shut, and then +turn around three times and walk home without speaking to anybody. +Because if you speak the charm's busted." + +"Well, that sounds like a good way; but that ain't the way Bob Tanner +done." + +"No, sir, you can bet he didn't, becuz he's the wartiest boy in this +town; and he wouldn't have a wart on him if he'd knowed how to work +spunk-water. I've took off thousands of warts off of my hands that way, +Huck. I play with frogs so much that I've always got considerable many +warts. Sometimes I take 'em off with a bean." + +"Yes, bean's good. I've done that." + +"Have you? What's your way?" + +"You take and split the bean, and cut the wart so as to get some blood, +and then you put the blood on one piece of the bean and take and dig +a hole and bury it 'bout midnight at the crossroads in the dark of the +moon, and then you burn up the rest of the bean. You see that piece +that's got the blood on it will keep drawing and drawing, trying to +fetch the other piece to it, and so that helps the blood to draw the +wart, and pretty soon off she comes." + +"Yes, that's it, Huck--that's it; though when you're burying it if you +say 'Down bean; off wart; come no more to bother me!' it's better. +That's the way Joe Harper does, and he's been nearly to Coonville and +most everywheres. But say--how do you cure 'em with dead cats?" + +"Why, you take your cat and go and get in the grave-yard 'long about +midnight when somebody that was wicked has been buried; and when it's +midnight a devil will come, or maybe two or three, but you can't see +'em, you can only hear something like the wind, or maybe hear 'em talk; +and when they're taking that feller away, you heave your cat after 'em +and say, 'Devil follow corpse, cat follow devil, warts follow cat, I'm +done with ye!' That'll fetch _any_ wart." + +"Sounds right. D'you ever try it, Huck?" + +"No, but old Mother Hopkins told me." + +"Well, I reckon it's so, then. Becuz they say she's a witch." + +"Say! Why, Tom, I _know_ she is. She witched pap. Pap says so his own +self. He come along one day, and he see she was a-witching him, so he +took up a rock, and if she hadn't dodged, he'd a got her. Well, that +very night he rolled off'n a shed wher' he was a layin drunk, and broke +his arm." + +"Why, that's awful. How did he know she was a-witching him?" + +"Lord, pap can tell, easy. Pap says when they keep looking at you right +stiddy, they're a-witching you. Specially if they mumble. Becuz when +they mumble they're saying the Lord's Prayer backards." + +"Say, Hucky, when you going to try the cat?" + +"To-night. I reckon they'll come after old Hoss Williams to-night." + +"But they buried him Saturday. Didn't they get him Saturday night?" + +"Why, how you talk! How could their charms work till midnight?--and +_then_ it's Sunday. Devils don't slosh around much of a Sunday, I don't +reckon." + +"I never thought of that. That's so. Lemme go with you?" + +"Of course--if you ain't afeard." + +"Afeard! 'Tain't likely. Will you meow?" + +"Yes--and you meow back, if you get a chance. Last time, you kep' me +a-meowing around till old Hays went to throwing rocks at me and says +'Dern that cat!' and so I hove a brick through his window--but don't you +tell." + +"I won't. I couldn't meow that night, becuz auntie was watching me, but +I'll meow this time. Say--what's that?" + +"Nothing but a tick." + +"Where'd you get him?" + +"Out in the woods." + +"What'll you take for him?" + +"I don't know. I don't want to sell him." + +"All right. It's a mighty small tick, anyway." + +"Oh, anybody can run a tick down that don't belong to them. I'm +satisfied with it. It's a good enough tick for me." + +"Sho, there's ticks a plenty. I could have a thousand of 'em if I wanted +to." + +"Well, why don't you? Becuz you know mighty well you can't. This is a +pretty early tick, I reckon. It's the first one I've seen this year." + +"Say, Huck--I'll give you my tooth for him." + +"Less see it." + +Tom got out a bit of paper and carefully unrolled it. Huckleberry viewed +it wistfully. The temptation was very strong. At last he said: + +"Is it genuwyne?" + +Tom lifted his lip and showed the vacancy. + +"Well, all right," said Huckleberry, "it's a trade." + +Tom enclosed the tick in the percussion-cap box that had lately been the +pinchbug's prison, and the boys separated, each feeling wealthier than +before. + +When Tom reached the little isolated frame school-house, he strode in +briskly, with the manner of one who had come with all honest speed. He +hung his hat on a peg and flung himself into his seat with business-like +alacrity. The master, throned on high in his great splint-bottom +arm-chair, was dozing, lulled by the drowsy hum of study. The +interruption roused him. + +"Thomas Sawyer!" + +Tom knew that when his name was pronounced in full, it meant trouble. + +"Sir!" + +"Come up here. Now, sir, why are you late again, as usual?" + +Tom was about to take refuge in a lie, when he saw two long tails of +yellow hair hanging down a back that he recognized by the electric +sympathy of love; and by that form was _the only vacant place_ on the +girls' side of the school-house. He instantly said: + +"_I stopped to talk with Huckleberry Finn!_" + +The master's pulse stood still, and he stared helplessly. The buzz of +study ceased. The pupils wondered if this foolhardy boy had lost his +mind. The master said: + +"You--you did what?" + +"Stopped to talk with Huckleberry Finn." + +There was no mistaking the words. + +"Thomas Sawyer, this is the most astounding confession I have ever +listened to. No mere ferule will answer for this offence. Take off your +jacket." + +The master's arm performed until it was tired and the stock of switches +notably diminished. Then the order followed: + +"Now, sir, go and sit with the girls! And let this be a warning to you." + +The titter that rippled around the room appeared to abash the boy, but +in reality that result was caused rather more by his worshipful awe +of his unknown idol and the dread pleasure that lay in his high good +fortune. He sat down upon the end of the pine bench and the girl hitched +herself away from him with a toss of her head. Nudges and winks and +whispers traversed the room, but Tom sat still, with his arms upon the +long, low desk before him, and seemed to study his book. + +By and by attention ceased from him, and the accustomed school murmur +rose upon the dull air once more. Presently the boy began to steal +furtive glances at the girl. She observed it, "made a mouth" at him +and gave him the back of her head for the space of a minute. When she +cautiously faced around again, a peach lay before her. She thrust it +away. Tom gently put it back. She thrust it away again, but with less +animosity. Tom patiently returned it to its place. Then she let it +remain. Tom scrawled on his slate, "Please take it--I got more." The +girl glanced at the words, but made no sign. Now the boy began to draw +something on the slate, hiding his work with his left hand. For a time +the girl refused to notice; but her human curiosity presently began +to manifest itself by hardly perceptible signs. The boy worked on, +apparently unconscious. The girl made a sort of non-committal attempt +to see, but the boy did not betray that he was aware of it. At last she +gave in and hesitatingly whispered: + +"Let me see it." + +Tom partly uncovered a dismal caricature of a house with two gable ends +to it and a corkscrew of smoke issuing from the chimney. Then the girl's +interest began to fasten itself upon the work and she forgot everything +else. When it was finished, she gazed a moment, then whispered: + +"It's nice--make a man." + +The artist erected a man in the front yard, that resembled a derrick. He +could have stepped over the house; but the girl was not hypercritical; +she was satisfied with the monster, and whispered: + +"It's a beautiful man--now make me coming along." + +Tom drew an hour-glass with a full moon and straw limbs to it and armed +the spreading fingers with a portentous fan. The girl said: + +"It's ever so nice--I wish I could draw." + +"It's easy," whispered Tom, "I'll learn you." + +"Oh, will you? When?" + +"At noon. Do you go home to dinner?" + +"I'll stay if you will." + +"Good--that's a whack. What's your name?" + +"Becky Thatcher. What's yours? Oh, I know. It's Thomas Sawyer." + +"That's the name they lick me by. I'm Tom when I'm good. You call me +Tom, will you?" + +"Yes." + +Now Tom began to scrawl something on the slate, hiding the words from +the girl. But she was not backward this time. She begged to see. Tom +said: + +"Oh, it ain't anything." + +"Yes it is." + +"No it ain't. You don't want to see." + +"Yes I do, indeed I do. Please let me." + +"You'll tell." + +"No I won't--deed and deed and double deed won't." + +"You won't tell anybody at all? Ever, as long as you live?" + +"No, I won't ever tell _any_body. Now let me." + +"Oh, _you_ don't want to see!" + +"Now that you treat me so, I _will_ see." And she put her small hand +upon his and a little scuffle ensued, Tom pretending to resist in +earnest but letting his hand slip by degrees till these words were +revealed: "_I love you_." + +"Oh, you bad thing!" And she hit his hand a smart rap, but reddened and +looked pleased, nevertheless. + +Just at this juncture the boy felt a slow, fateful grip closing on his +ear, and a steady lifting impulse. In that wise he was borne across the +house and deposited in his own seat, under a peppering fire of giggles +from the whole school. Then the master stood over him during a few awful +moments, and finally moved away to his throne without saying a word. But +although Tom's ear tingled, his heart was jubilant. + +As the school quieted down Tom made an honest effort to study, but +the turmoil within him was too great. In turn he took his place in the +reading class and made a botch of it; then in the geography class and +turned lakes into mountains, mountains into rivers, and rivers into +continents, till chaos was come again; then in the spelling class, and +got "turned down," by a succession of mere baby words, till he brought +up at the foot and yielded up the pewter medal which he had worn with +ostentation for months. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE harder Tom tried to fasten his mind on his book, the more his ideas +wandered. So at last, with a sigh and a yawn, he gave it up. It seemed +to him that the noon recess would never come. The air was utterly dead. +There was not a breath stirring. It was the sleepiest of sleepy days. +The drowsing murmur of the five and twenty studying scholars soothed +the soul like the spell that is in the murmur of bees. Away off in the +flaming sunshine, Cardiff Hill lifted its soft green sides through a +shimmering veil of heat, tinted with the purple of distance; a few birds +floated on lazy wing high in the air; no other living thing was visible +but some cows, and they were asleep. Tom's heart ached to be free, or +else to have something of interest to do to pass the dreary time. +His hand wandered into his pocket and his face lit up with a glow of +gratitude that was prayer, though he did not know it. Then furtively +the percussion-cap box came out. He released the tick and put him on +the long flat desk. The creature probably glowed with a gratitude that +amounted to prayer, too, at this moment, but it was premature: for when +he started thankfully to travel off, Tom turned him aside with a pin and +made him take a new direction. + +Tom's bosom friend sat next him, suffering just as Tom had been, and +now he was deeply and gratefully interested in this entertainment in +an instant. This bosom friend was Joe Harper. The two boys were sworn +friends all the week, and embattled enemies on Saturdays. Joe took a +pin out of his lapel and began to assist in exercising the prisoner. +The sport grew in interest momently. Soon Tom said that they were +interfering with each other, and neither getting the fullest benefit +of the tick. So he put Joe's slate on the desk and drew a line down the +middle of it from top to bottom. + +"Now," said he, "as long as he is on your side you can stir him up and +I'll let him alone; but if you let him get away and get on my side, +you're to leave him alone as long as I can keep him from crossing over." + +"All right, go ahead; start him up." + +The tick escaped from Tom, presently, and crossed the equator. Joe +harassed him awhile, and then he got away and crossed back again. This +change of base occurred often. While one boy was worrying the tick with +absorbing interest, the other would look on with interest as strong, the +two heads bowed together over the slate, and the two souls dead to all +things else. At last luck seemed to settle and abide with Joe. The +tick tried this, that, and the other course, and got as excited and as +anxious as the boys themselves, but time and again just as he would +have victory in his very grasp, so to speak, and Tom's fingers would +be twitching to begin, Joe's pin would deftly head him off, and keep +possession. At last Tom could stand it no longer. The temptation was too +strong. So he reached out and lent a hand with his pin. Joe was angry in +a moment. Said he: + +"Tom, you let him alone." + +"I only just want to stir him up a little, Joe." + +"No, sir, it ain't fair; you just let him alone." + +"Blame it, I ain't going to stir him much." + +"Let him alone, I tell you." + +"I won't!" + +"You shall--he's on my side of the line." + +"Look here, Joe Harper, whose is that tick?" + +"I don't care whose tick he is--he's on my side of the line, and you +sha'n't touch him." + +"Well, I'll just bet I will, though. He's my tick and I'll do what I +blame please with him, or die!" + +A tremendous whack came down on Tom's shoulders, and its duplicate on +Joe's; and for the space of two minutes the dust continued to fly from +the two jackets and the whole school to enjoy it. The boys had been +too absorbed to notice the hush that had stolen upon the school awhile +before when the master came tiptoeing down the room and stood over them. +He had contemplated a good part of the performance before he contributed +his bit of variety to it. + +When school broke up at noon, Tom flew to Becky Thatcher, and whispered +in her ear: + +"Put on your bonnet and let on you're going home; and when you get to +the corner, give the rest of 'em the slip, and turn down through the +lane and come back. I'll go the other way and come it over 'em the same +way." + +So the one went off with one group of scholars, and the other with +another. In a little while the two met at the bottom of the lane, and +when they reached the school they had it all to themselves. Then they +sat together, with a slate before them, and Tom gave Becky the pencil +and held her hand in his, guiding it, and so created another surprising +house. When the interest in art began to wane, the two fell to talking. +Tom was swimming in bliss. He said: + +"Do you love rats?" + +"No! I hate them!" + +"Well, I do, too--_live_ ones. But I mean dead ones, to swing round your +head with a string." + +"No, I don't care for rats much, anyway. What I like is chewing-gum." + +"Oh, I should say so! I wish I had some now." + +"Do you? I've got some. I'll let you chew it awhile, but you must give +it back to me." + +That was agreeable, so they chewed it turn about, and dangled their legs +against the bench in excess of contentment. + +"Was you ever at a circus?" said Tom. + +"Yes, and my pa's going to take me again some time, if I'm good." + +"I been to the circus three or four times--lots of times. Church ain't +shucks to a circus. There's things going on at a circus all the time. +I'm going to be a clown in a circus when I grow up." + +"Oh, are you! That will be nice. They're so lovely, all spotted up." + +"Yes, that's so. And they get slathers of money--most a dollar a day, Ben +Rogers says. Say, Becky, was you ever engaged?" + +"What's that?" + +"Why, engaged to be married." + +"No." + +"Would you like to?" + +"I reckon so. I don't know. What is it like?" + +"Like? Why it ain't like anything. You only just tell a boy you won't +ever have anybody but him, ever ever ever, and then you kiss and that's +all. Anybody can do it." + +"Kiss? What do you kiss for?" + +"Why, that, you know, is to--well, they always do that." + +"Everybody?" + +"Why, yes, everybody that's in love with each other. Do you remember +what I wrote on the slate?" + +"Ye--yes." + +"What was it?" + +"I sha'n't tell you." + +"Shall I tell _you_?" + +"Ye--yes--but some other time." + +"No, now." + +"No, not now--to-morrow." + +"Oh, no, _now_. Please, Becky--I'll whisper it, I'll whisper it ever so +easy." + +Becky hesitating, Tom took silence for consent, and passed his arm about +her waist and whispered the tale ever so softly, with his mouth close to +her ear. And then he added: + +"Now you whisper it to me--just the same." + +She resisted, for a while, and then said: + +"You turn your face away so you can't see, and then I will. But you +mustn't ever tell anybody--_will_ you, Tom? Now you won't, _will_ you?" + +"No, indeed, indeed I won't. Now, Becky." + +He turned his face away. She bent timidly around till her breath stirred +his curls and whispered, "I--love--you!" + +Then she sprang away and ran around and around the desks and benches, +with Tom after her, and took refuge in a corner at last, with her little +white apron to her face. Tom clasped her about her neck and pleaded: + +"Now, Becky, it's all done--all over but the kiss. Don't you be afraid +of that--it ain't anything at all. Please, Becky." And he tugged at her +apron and the hands. + +By and by she gave up, and let her hands drop; her face, all glowing +with the struggle, came up and submitted. Tom kissed the red lips and +said: + +"Now it's all done, Becky. And always after this, you know, you ain't +ever to love anybody but me, and you ain't ever to marry anybody but me, +ever never and forever. Will you?" + +"No, I'll never love anybody but you, Tom, and I'll never marry anybody +but you--and you ain't to ever marry anybody but me, either." + +"Certainly. Of course. That's _part_ of it. And always coming to school +or when we're going home, you're to walk with me, when there ain't +anybody looking--and you choose me and I choose you at parties, because +that's the way you do when you're engaged." + +"It's so nice. I never heard of it before." + +"Oh, it's ever so gay! Why, me and Amy Lawrence--" + +The big eyes told Tom his blunder and he stopped, confused. + +"Oh, Tom! Then I ain't the first you've ever been engaged to!" + +The child began to cry. Tom said: + +"Oh, don't cry, Becky, I don't care for her any more." + +"Yes, you do, Tom--you know you do." + +Tom tried to put his arm about her neck, but she pushed him away and +turned her face to the wall, and went on crying. Tom tried again, with +soothing words in his mouth, and was repulsed again. Then his pride was +up, and he strode away and went outside. He stood about, restless and +uneasy, for a while, glancing at the door, every now and then, hoping +she would repent and come to find him. But she did not. Then he began +to feel badly and fear that he was in the wrong. It was a hard struggle +with him to make new advances, now, but he nerved himself to it and +entered. She was still standing back there in the corner, sobbing, with +her face to the wall. Tom's heart smote him. He went to her and stood a +moment, not knowing exactly how to proceed. Then he said hesitatingly: + +"Becky, I--I don't care for anybody but you." + +No reply--but sobs. + +"Becky"--pleadingly. "Becky, won't you say something?" + +More sobs. + +Tom got out his chiefest jewel, a brass knob from the top of an andiron, +and passed it around her so that she could see it, and said: + +"Please, Becky, won't you take it?" + +She struck it to the floor. Then Tom marched out of the house and over +the hills and far away, to return to school no more that day. Presently +Becky began to suspect. She ran to the door; he was not in sight; she +flew around to the play-yard; he was not there. Then she called: + +"Tom! Come back, Tom!" + +She listened intently, but there was no answer. She had no companions +but silence and loneliness. So she sat down to cry again and upbraid +herself; and by this time the scholars began to gather again, and she +had to hide her griefs and still her broken heart and take up the cross +of a long, dreary, aching afternoon, with none among the strangers about +her to exchange sorrows with. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +TOM dodged hither and thither through lanes until he was well out of the +track of returning scholars, and then fell into a moody jog. He crossed +a small "branch" two or three times, because of a prevailing juvenile +superstition that to cross water baffled pursuit. Half an hour later +he was disappearing behind the Douglas mansion on the summit of Cardiff +Hill, and the school-house was hardly distinguishable away off in the +valley behind him. He entered a dense wood, picked his pathless way to +the centre of it, and sat down on a mossy spot under a spreading oak. +There was not even a zephyr stirring; the dead noonday heat had even +stilled the songs of the birds; nature lay in a trance that was broken +by no sound but the occasional far-off hammering of a wood-pecker, and +this seemed to render the pervading silence and sense of loneliness the +more profound. The boy's soul was steeped in melancholy; his feelings +were in happy accord with his surroundings. He sat long with his elbows +on his knees and his chin in his hands, meditating. It seemed to him +that life was but a trouble, at best, and he more than half envied Jimmy +Hodges, so lately released; it must be very peaceful, he thought, to lie +and slumber and dream forever and ever, with the wind whispering through +the trees and caressing the grass and the flowers over the grave, and +nothing to bother and grieve about, ever any more. If he only had a +clean Sunday-school record he could be willing to go, and be done with +it all. Now as to this girl. What had he done? Nothing. He had meant +the best in the world, and been treated like a dog--like a very dog. She +would be sorry some day--maybe when it was too late. Ah, if he could only +die _temporarily_! + +But the elastic heart of youth cannot be compressed into one constrained +shape long at a time. Tom presently began to drift insensibly back into +the concerns of this life again. What if he turned his back, now, and +disappeared mysteriously? What if he went away--ever so far away, into +unknown countries beyond the seas--and never came back any more! How +would she feel then! The idea of being a clown recurred to him now, only +to fill him with disgust. For frivolity and jokes and spotted tights +were an offense, when they intruded themselves upon a spirit that was +exalted into the vague august realm of the romantic. No, he would be +a soldier, and return after long years, all war-worn and illustrious. +No--better still, he would join the Indians, and hunt buffaloes and go on +the warpath in the mountain ranges and the trackless great plains of the +Far West, and away in the future come back a great chief, bristling with +feathers, hideous with paint, and prance into Sunday-school, some drowsy +summer morning, with a blood-curdling war-whoop, and sear the eyeballs +of all his companions with unappeasable envy. But no, there was +something gaudier even than this. He would be a pirate! That was it! +_now_ his future lay plain before him, and glowing with unimaginable +splendor. How his name would fill the world, and make people shudder! +How gloriously he would go plowing the dancing seas, in his long, low, +black-hulled racer, the Spirit of the Storm, with his grisly flag flying +at the fore! And at the zenith of his fame, how he would suddenly appear +at the old village and stalk into church, brown and weather-beaten, in +his black velvet doublet and trunks, his great jack-boots, his crimson +sash, his belt bristling with horse-pistols, his crime-rusted cutlass +at his side, his slouch hat with waving plumes, his black flag unfurled, +with the skull and crossbones on it, and hear with swelling ecstasy +the whisperings, "It's Tom Sawyer the Pirate!--the Black Avenger of the +Spanish Main!" + +Yes, it was settled; his career was determined. He would run away from +home and enter upon it. He would start the very next morning. Therefore +he must now begin to get ready. He would collect his resources together. +He went to a rotten log near at hand and began to dig under one end of +it with his Barlow knife. He soon struck wood that sounded hollow. He +put his hand there and uttered this incantation impressively: + +"What hasn't come here, come! What's here, stay here!" + +Then he scraped away the dirt, and exposed a pine shingle. He took it +up and disclosed a shapely little treasure-house whose bottom and sides +were of shingles. In it lay a marble. Tom's astonishment was bound-less! +He scratched his head with a perplexed air, and said: + +"Well, that beats anything!" + +Then he tossed the marble away pettishly, and stood cogitating. The +truth was, that a superstition of his had failed, here, which he and +all his comrades had always looked upon as infallible. If you buried +a marble with certain necessary incantations, and left it alone a +fortnight, and then opened the place with the incantation he had just +used, you would find that all the marbles you had ever lost had gathered +themselves together there, meantime, no matter how widely they had been +separated. But now, this thing had actually and unquestionably failed. +Tom's whole structure of faith was shaken to its foundations. He had +many a time heard of this thing succeeding but never of its failing +before. It did not occur to him that he had tried it several times +before, himself, but could never find the hiding-places afterward. He +puzzled over the matter some time, and finally decided that some witch +had interfered and broken the charm. He thought he would satisfy himself +on that point; so he searched around till he found a small sandy spot +with a little funnel-shaped depression in it. He laid himself down and +put his mouth close to this depression and called-- + +"Doodle-bug, doodle-bug, tell me what I want to know! Doodle-bug, +doodle-bug, tell me what I want to know!" + +The sand began to work, and presently a small black bug appeared for a +second and then darted under again in a fright. + +"He dasn't tell! So it _was_ a witch that done it. I just knowed it." + +He well knew the futility of trying to contend against witches, so he +gave up discouraged. But it occurred to him that he might as well have +the marble he had just thrown away, and therefore he went and made a +patient search for it. But he could not find it. Now he went back to his +treasure-house and carefully placed himself just as he had been standing +when he tossed the marble away; then he took another marble from his +pocket and tossed it in the same way, saying: + +"Brother, go find your brother!" + +He watched where it stopped, and went there and looked. But it must +have fallen short or gone too far; so he tried twice more. The last +repetition was successful. The two marbles lay within a foot of each +other. + +Just here the blast of a toy tin trumpet came faintly down the green +aisles of the forest. Tom flung off his jacket and trousers, turned +a suspender into a belt, raked away some brush behind the rotten log, +disclosing a rude bow and arrow, a lath sword and a tin trumpet, and +in a moment had seized these things and bounded away, barelegged, +with fluttering shirt. He presently halted under a great elm, blew an +answering blast, and then began to tiptoe and look warily out, this way +and that. He said cautiously--to an imaginary company: + +"Hold, my merry men! Keep hid till I blow." + +Now appeared Joe Harper, as airily clad and elaborately armed as Tom. +Tom called: + +"Hold! Who comes here into Sherwood Forest without my pass?" + +"Guy of Guisborne wants no man's pass. Who art thou that--that--" + +"Dares to hold such language," said Tom, prompting--for they talked "by +the book," from memory. + +"Who art thou that dares to hold such language?" + +"I, indeed! I am Robin Hood, as thy caitiff carcase soon shall know." + +"Then art thou indeed that famous outlaw? Right gladly will I dispute +with thee the passes of the merry wood. Have at thee!" + +They took their lath swords, dumped their other traps on the ground, +struck a fencing attitude, foot to foot, and began a grave, careful +combat, "two up and two down." Presently Tom said: + +"Now, if you've got the hang, go it lively!" + +So they "went it lively," panting and perspiring with the work. By and +by Tom shouted: + +"Fall! fall! Why don't you fall?" + +"I sha'n't! Why don't you fall yourself? You're getting the worst of +it." + +"Why, that ain't anything. I can't fall; that ain't the way it is in the +book. The book says, 'Then with one back-handed stroke he slew poor Guy +of Guisborne.' You're to turn around and let me hit you in the back." + +There was no getting around the authorities, so Joe turned, received the +whack and fell. + +"Now," said Joe, getting up, "you got to let me kill _you_. That's +fair." + +"Why, I can't do that, it ain't in the book." + +"Well, it's blamed mean--that's all." + +"Well, say, Joe, you can be Friar Tuck or Much the miller's son, and lam +me with a quarter-staff; or I'll be the Sheriff of Nottingham and you be +Robin Hood a little while and kill me." + +This was satisfactory, and so these adventures were carried out. Then +Tom became Robin Hood again, and was allowed by the treacherous nun to +bleed his strength away through his neglected wound. And at last Joe, +representing a whole tribe of weeping outlaws, dragged him sadly forth, +gave his bow into his feeble hands, and Tom said, "Where this arrow +falls, there bury poor Robin Hood under the greenwood tree." Then he +shot the arrow and fell back and would have died, but he lit on a nettle +and sprang up too gaily for a corpse. + +The boys dressed themselves, hid their accoutrements, and went off +grieving that there were no outlaws any more, and wondering what modern +civilization could claim to have done to compensate for their loss. +They said they would rather be outlaws a year in Sherwood Forest than +President of the United States forever. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +AT half-past nine, that night, Tom and Sid were sent to bed, as usual. +They said their prayers, and Sid was soon asleep. Tom lay awake and +waited, in restless impatience. When it seemed to him that it must be +nearly daylight, he heard the clock strike ten! This was despair. He +would have tossed and fidgeted, as his nerves demanded, but he was +afraid he might wake Sid. So he lay still, and stared up into the dark. +Everything was dismally still. By and by, out of the stillness, little, +scarcely perceptible noises began to emphasize themselves. The ticking +of the clock began to bring itself into notice. Old beams began to crack +mysteriously. The stairs creaked faintly. Evidently spirits were abroad. +A measured, muffled snore issued from Aunt Polly's chamber. And now the +tiresome chirping of a cricket that no human ingenuity could locate, +began. Next the ghastly ticking of a death-watch in the wall at the +bed's head made Tom shudder--it meant that somebody's days were numbered. +Then the howl of a far-off dog rose on the night air, and was answered +by a fainter howl from a remoter distance. Tom was in an agony. At last +he was satisfied that time had ceased and eternity begun; he began to +doze, in spite of himself; the clock chimed eleven, but he did not hear +it. And then there came, mingling with his half-formed dreams, a most +melancholy caterwauling. The raising of a neighboring window disturbed +him. A cry of "Scat! you devil!" and the crash of an empty bottle +against the back of his aunt's woodshed brought him wide awake, and a +single minute later he was dressed and out of the window and creeping +along the roof of the "ell" on all fours. He "meow'd" with caution once +or twice, as he went; then jumped to the roof of the woodshed and thence +to the ground. Huckleberry Finn was there, with his dead cat. The boys +moved off and disappeared in the gloom. At the end of half an hour they +were wading through the tall grass of the graveyard. + +It was a graveyard of the old-fashioned Western kind. It was on a hill, +about a mile and a half from the village. It had a crazy board fence +around it, which leaned inward in places, and outward the rest of the +time, but stood upright nowhere. Grass and weeds grew rank over the +whole cemetery. All the old graves were sunken in, there was not a +tombstone on the place; round-topped, worm-eaten boards staggered over +the graves, leaning for support and finding none. "Sacred to the memory +of" So-and-So had been painted on them once, but it could no longer have +been read, on the most of them, now, even if there had been light. + +A faint wind moaned through the trees, and Tom feared it might be the +spirits of the dead, complaining at being disturbed. The boys talked +little, and only under their breath, for the time and the place and the +pervading solemnity and silence oppressed their spirits. They found the +sharp new heap they were seeking, and ensconced themselves within the +protection of three great elms that grew in a bunch within a few feet of +the grave. + +Then they waited in silence for what seemed a long time. The hooting of +a distant owl was all the sound that troubled the dead stillness. Tom's +reflections grew oppressive. He must force some talk. So he said in a +whisper: + +"Hucky, do you believe the dead people like it for us to be here?" + +Huckleberry whispered: + +"I wisht I knowed. It's awful solemn like, _ain't_ it?" + +"I bet it is." + +There was a considerable pause, while the boys canvassed this matter +inwardly. Then Tom whispered: + +"Say, Hucky--do you reckon Hoss Williams hears us talking?" + +"O' course he does. Least his sperrit does." + +Tom, after a pause: + +"I wish I'd said Mister Williams. But I never meant any harm. Everybody +calls him Hoss." + +"A body can't be too partic'lar how they talk 'bout these-yer dead +people, Tom." + +This was a damper, and conversation died again. + +Presently Tom seized his comrade's arm and said: + +"Sh!" + +"What is it, Tom?" And the two clung together with beating hearts. + +"Sh! There 'tis again! Didn't you hear it?" + +"I--" + +"There! Now you hear it." + +"Lord, Tom, they're coming! They're coming, sure. What'll we do?" + +"I dono. Think they'll see us?" + +"Oh, Tom, they can see in the dark, same as cats. I wisht I hadn't +come." + +"Oh, don't be afeard. I don't believe they'll bother us. We ain't doing +any harm. If we keep perfectly still, maybe they won't notice us at +all." + +"I'll try to, Tom, but, Lord, I'm all of a shiver." + +"Listen!" + +The boys bent their heads together and scarcely breathed. A muffled +sound of voices floated up from the far end of the graveyard. + +"Look! See there!" whispered Tom. "What is it?" + +"It's devil-fire. Oh, Tom, this is awful." + +Some vague figures approached through the gloom, swinging an +old-fashioned tin lantern that freckled the ground with innumerable +little spangles of light. Presently Huckleberry whispered with a +shudder: + +"It's the devils sure enough. Three of 'em! Lordy, Tom, we're goners! +Can you pray?" + +"I'll try, but don't you be afeard. They ain't going to hurt us. 'Now I +lay me down to sleep, I--'" + +"Sh!" + +"What is it, Huck?" + +"They're _humans_! One of 'em is, anyway. One of 'em's old Muff Potter's +voice." + +"No--'tain't so, is it?" + +"I bet I know it. Don't you stir nor budge. He ain't sharp enough to +notice us. Drunk, the same as usual, likely--blamed old rip!" + +"All right, I'll keep still. Now they're stuck. Can't find it. Here they +come again. Now they're hot. Cold again. Hot again. Red hot! They're +p'inted right, this time. Say, Huck, I know another o' them voices; it's +Injun Joe." + +"That's so--that murderin' half-breed! I'd druther they was devils a dern +sight. What kin they be up to?" + +The whisper died wholly out, now, for the three men had reached the +grave and stood within a few feet of the boys' hiding-place. + +"Here it is," said the third voice; and the owner of it held the lantern +up and revealed the face of young Doctor Robinson. + +Potter and Injun Joe were carrying a handbarrow with a rope and a couple +of shovels on it. They cast down their load and began to open the grave. +The doctor put the lantern at the head of the grave and came and sat +down with his back against one of the elm trees. He was so close the +boys could have touched him. + +"Hurry, men!" he said, in a low voice; "the moon might come out at any +moment." + +They growled a response and went on digging. For some time there was no +noise but the grating sound of the spades discharging their freight of +mould and gravel. It was very monotonous. Finally a spade struck upon +the coffin with a dull woody accent, and within another minute or two +the men had hoisted it out on the ground. They pried off the lid with +their shovels, got out the body and dumped it rudely on the ground. The +moon drifted from behind the clouds and exposed the pallid face. +The barrow was got ready and the corpse placed on it, covered with a +blanket, and bound to its place with the rope. Potter took out a large +spring-knife and cut off the dangling end of the rope and then said: + +"Now the cussed thing's ready, Sawbones, and you'll just out with +another five, or here she stays." + +"That's the talk!" said Injun Joe. + +"Look here, what does this mean?" said the doctor. "You required your +pay in advance, and I've paid you." + +"Yes, and you done more than that," said Injun Joe, approaching the +doctor, who was now standing. "Five years ago you drove me away from +your father's kitchen one night, when I come to ask for something to +eat, and you said I warn't there for any good; and when I swore I'd get +even with you if it took a hundred years, your father had me jailed for +a vagrant. Did you think I'd forget? The Injun blood ain't in me for +nothing. And now I've _got_ you, and you got to _settle_, you know!" + +He was threatening the doctor, with his fist in his face, by this time. +The doctor struck out suddenly and stretched the ruffian on the ground. +Potter dropped his knife, and exclaimed: + +"Here, now, don't you hit my pard!" and the next moment he had grappled +with the doctor and the two were struggling with might and main, +trampling the grass and tearing the ground with their heels. Injun Joe +sprang to his feet, his eyes flaming with passion, snatched up Potter's +knife, and went creeping, catlike and stooping, round and round about +the combatants, seeking an opportunity. All at once the doctor flung +himself free, seized the heavy headboard of Williams' grave and felled +Potter to the earth with it--and in the same instant the half-breed saw +his chance and drove the knife to the hilt in the young man's breast. He +reeled and fell partly upon Potter, flooding him with his blood, and in +the same moment the clouds blotted out the dreadful spectacle and the +two frightened boys went speeding away in the dark. + +Presently, when the moon emerged again, Injun Joe was standing over the +two forms, contemplating them. The doctor murmured inarticulately, gave +a long gasp or two and was still. The half-breed muttered: + +"_That_ score is settled--damn you." + +Then he robbed the body. After which he put the fatal knife in Potter's +open right hand, and sat down on the dismantled coffin. Three--four--five +minutes passed, and then Potter began to stir and moan. His hand closed +upon the knife; he raised it, glanced at it, and let it fall, with a +shudder. Then he sat up, pushing the body from him, and gazed at it, and +then around him, confusedly. His eyes met Joe's. + +"Lord, how is this, Joe?" he said. + +"It's a dirty business," said Joe, without moving. + +"What did you do it for?" + +"I! I never done it!" + +"Look here! That kind of talk won't wash." + +Potter trembled and grew white. + +"I thought I'd got sober. I'd no business to drink to-night. But it's +in my head yet--worse'n when we started here. I'm all in a muddle; +can't recollect anything of it, hardly. Tell me, Joe--_honest_, now, +old feller--did I do it? Joe, I never meant to--'pon my soul and honor, I +never meant to, Joe. Tell me how it was, Joe. Oh, it's awful--and him so +young and promising." + +"Why, you two was scuffling, and he fetched you one with the headboard +and you fell flat; and then up you come, all reeling and staggering +like, and snatched the knife and jammed it into him, just as he fetched +you another awful clip--and here you've laid, as dead as a wedge til +now." + +"Oh, I didn't know what I was a-doing. I wish I may die this minute if I +did. It was all on account of the whiskey and the excitement, I reckon. +I never used a weepon in my life before, Joe. I've fought, but never +with weepons. They'll all say that. Joe, don't tell! Say you won't tell, +Joe--that's a good feller. I always liked you, Joe, and stood up for you, +too. Don't you remember? You _won't_ tell, _will_ you, Joe?" And the +poor creature dropped on his knees before the stolid murderer, and +clasped his appealing hands. + +"No, you've always been fair and square with me, Muff Potter, and I +won't go back on you. There, now, that's as fair as a man can say." + +"Oh, Joe, you're an angel. I'll bless you for this the longest day I +live." And Potter began to cry. + +"Come, now, that's enough of that. This ain't any time for blubbering. +You be off yonder way and I'll go this. Move, now, and don't leave any +tracks behind you." + +Potter started on a trot that quickly increased to a run. The half-breed +stood looking after him. He muttered: + +"If he's as much stunned with the lick and fuddled with the rum as he +had the look of being, he won't think of the knife till he's gone so +far he'll be afraid to come back after it to such a place by +himself--chicken-heart!" + +Two or three minutes later the murdered man, the blanketed corpse, the +lidless coffin, and the open grave were under no inspection but the +moon's. The stillness was complete again, too. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE two boys flew on and on, toward the village, speechless with +horror. They glanced backward over their shoulders from time to time, +apprehensively, as if they feared they might be followed. Every stump +that started up in their path seemed a man and an enemy, and made them +catch their breath; and as they sped by some outlying cottages that lay +near the village, the barking of the aroused watch-dogs seemed to give +wings to their feet. + +"If we can only get to the old tannery before we break down!" whispered +Tom, in short catches between breaths. "I can't stand it much longer." + +Huckleberry's hard pantings were his only reply, and the boys fixed +their eyes on the goal of their hopes and bent to their work to win it. +They gained steadily on it, and at last, breast to breast, they burst +through the open door and fell grateful and exhausted in the sheltering +shadows beyond. By and by their pulses slowed down, and Tom whispered: + +"Huckleberry, what do you reckon'll come of this?" + +"If Doctor Robinson dies, I reckon hanging'll come of it." + +"Do you though?" + +"Why, I _know_ it, Tom." + +Tom thought a while, then he said: + +"Who'll tell? We?" + +"What are you talking about? S'pose something happened and Injun Joe +_didn't_ hang? Why, he'd kill us some time or other, just as dead sure +as we're a laying here." + +"That's just what I was thinking to myself, Huck." + +"If anybody tells, let Muff Potter do it, if he's fool enough. He's +generally drunk enough." + +Tom said nothing--went on thinking. Presently he whispered: + +"Huck, Muff Potter don't know it. How can he tell?" + +"What's the reason he don't know it?" + +"Because he'd just got that whack when Injun Joe done it. D'you reckon +he could see anything? D'you reckon he knowed anything?" + +"By hokey, that's so, Tom!" + +"And besides, look-a-here--maybe that whack done for _him_!" + +"No, 'taint likely, Tom. He had liquor in him; I could see that; and +besides, he always has. Well, when pap's full, you might take and belt +him over the head with a church and you couldn't phase him. He says so, +his own self. So it's the same with Muff Potter, of course. But if a man +was dead sober, I reckon maybe that whack might fetch him; I dono." + +After another reflective silence, Tom said: + +"Hucky, you sure you can keep mum?" + +"Tom, we _got_ to keep mum. You know that. That Injun devil wouldn't +make any more of drownding us than a couple of cats, if we was to squeak +'bout this and they didn't hang him. Now, look-a-here, Tom, less take +and swear to one another--that's what we got to do--swear to keep mum." + +"I'm agreed. It's the best thing. Would you just hold hands and swear +that we--" + +"Oh no, that wouldn't do for this. That's good enough for little +rubbishy common things--specially with gals, cuz _they_ go back on you +anyway, and blab if they get in a huff--but there orter be writing 'bout +a big thing like this. And blood." + +Tom's whole being applauded this idea. It was deep, and dark, and awful; +the hour, the circumstances, the surroundings, were in keeping with it. +He picked up a clean pine shingle that lay in the moon-light, took a +little fragment of "red keel" out of his pocket, got the moon on +his work, and painfully scrawled these lines, emphasizing each slow +down-stroke by clamping his tongue between his teeth, and letting up the +pressure on the up-strokes. [See next page.] + +"Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer swears they will keep mum about This and They +wish They may Drop down dead in Their Tracks if They ever Tell and Rot." + +Huckleberry was filled with admiration of Tom's facility in writing, and +the sublimity of his language. He at once took a pin from his lapel and +was going to prick his flesh, but Tom said: + +"Hold on! Don't do that. A pin's brass. It might have verdigrease on +it." + +"What's verdigrease?" + +"It's p'ison. That's what it is. You just swaller some of it once--you'll +see." + +So Tom unwound the thread from one of his needles, and each boy pricked +the ball of his thumb and squeezed out a drop of blood. In time, after +many squeezes, Tom managed to sign his initials, using the ball of his +little finger for a pen. Then he showed Huckleberry how to make an H and +an F, and the oath was complete. They buried the shingle close to the +wall, with some dismal ceremonies and incantations, and the fetters +that bound their tongues were considered to be locked and the key thrown +away. + +A figure crept stealthily through a break in the other end of the ruined +building, now, but they did not notice it. + +"Tom," whispered Huckleberry, "does this keep us from _ever_ +telling--_always_?" + +"Of course it does. It don't make any difference _what_ happens, we got +to keep mum. We'd drop down dead--don't _you_ know that?" + +"Yes, I reckon that's so." + +They continued to whisper for some little time. Presently a dog set up +a long, lugubrious howl just outside--within ten feet of them. The boys +clasped each other suddenly, in an agony of fright. + +"Which of us does he mean?" gasped Huckleberry. + +"I dono--peep through the crack. Quick!" + +"No, _you_, Tom!" + +"I can't--I can't _do_ it, Huck!" + +"Please, Tom. There 'tis again!" + +"Oh, lordy, I'm thankful!" whispered Tom. "I know his voice. It's Bull +Harbison." * + +[* If Mr. Harbison owned a slave named Bull, Tom would have spoken of +him as "Harbison's Bull," but a son or a dog of that name was "Bull +Harbison."] + +"Oh, that's good--I tell you, Tom, I was most scared to death; I'd a bet +anything it was a _stray_ dog." + +The dog howled again. The boys' hearts sank once more. + +"Oh, my! that ain't no Bull Harbison!" whispered Huckleberry. "_Do_, +Tom!" + +Tom, quaking with fear, yielded, and put his eye to the crack. His +whisper was hardly audible when he said: + +"Oh, Huck, _its a stray dog_!" + +"Quick, Tom, quick! Who does he mean?" + +"Huck, he must mean us both--we're right together." + +"Oh, Tom, I reckon we're goners. I reckon there ain't no mistake 'bout +where _I'll_ go to. I been so wicked." + +"Dad fetch it! This comes of playing hookey and doing everything a +feller's told _not_ to do. I might a been good, like Sid, if I'd a +tried--but no, I wouldn't, of course. But if ever I get off this time, +I lay I'll just _waller_ in Sunday-schools!" And Tom began to snuffle a +little. + +"_You_ bad!" and Huckleberry began to snuffle too. "Consound it, Tom +Sawyer, you're just old pie, 'long-side o' what I am. Oh, _lordy_, +lordy, lordy, I wisht I only had half your chance." + +Tom choked off and whispered: + +"Look, Hucky, look! He's got his _back_ to us!" + +Hucky looked, with joy in his heart. + +"Well, he has, by jingoes! Did he before?" + +"Yes, he did. But I, like a fool, never thought. Oh, this is bully, you +know. _Now_ who can he mean?" + +The howling stopped. Tom pricked up his ears. + +"Sh! What's that?" he whispered. + +"Sounds like--like hogs grunting. No--it's somebody snoring, Tom." + +"That _is_ it! Where 'bouts is it, Huck?" + +"I bleeve it's down at 'tother end. Sounds so, anyway. Pap used to sleep +there, sometimes, 'long with the hogs, but laws bless you, he just lifts +things when _he_ snores. Besides, I reckon he ain't ever coming back to +this town any more." + +The spirit of adventure rose in the boys' souls once more. + +"Hucky, do you das't to go if I lead?" + +"I don't like to, much. Tom, s'pose it's Injun Joe!" + +Tom quailed. But presently the temptation rose up strong again and the +boys agreed to try, with the understanding that they would take to their +heels if the snoring stopped. So they went tiptoeing stealthily down, +the one behind the other. When they had got to within five steps of the +snorer, Tom stepped on a stick, and it broke with a sharp snap. The man +moaned, writhed a little, and his face came into the moonlight. It was +Muff Potter. The boys' hearts had stood still, and their hopes too, +when the man moved, but their fears passed away now. They tip-toed out, +through the broken weather-boarding, and stopped at a little distance +to exchange a parting word. That long, lugubrious howl rose on the night +air again! They turned and saw the strange dog standing within a few +feet of where Potter was lying, and _facing_ Potter, with his nose +pointing heavenward. + +"Oh, geeminy, it's _him_!" exclaimed both boys, in a breath. + +"Say, Tom--they say a stray dog come howling around Johnny Miller's +house, 'bout midnight, as much as two weeks ago; and a whippoorwill come +in and lit on the banisters and sung, the very same evening; and there +ain't anybody dead there yet." + +"Well, I know that. And suppose there ain't. Didn't Gracie Miller fall +in the kitchen fire and burn herself terrible the very next Saturday?" + +"Yes, but she ain't _dead_. And what's more, she's getting better, too." + +"All right, you wait and see. She's a goner, just as dead sure as Muff +Potter's a goner. That's what the niggers say, and they know all about +these kind of things, Huck." + +Then they separated, cogitating. When Tom crept in at his bedroom window +the night was almost spent. He undressed with excessive caution, and +fell asleep congratulating himself that nobody knew of his escapade. He +was not aware that the gently-snoring Sid was awake, and had been so for +an hour. + +When Tom awoke, Sid was dressed and gone. There was a late look in the +light, a late sense in the atmosphere. He was startled. Why had he not +been called--persecuted till he was up, as usual? The thought filled +him with bodings. Within five minutes he was dressed and down-stairs, +feeling sore and drowsy. The family were still at table, but they had +finished breakfast. There was no voice of rebuke; but there were averted +eyes; there was a silence and an air of solemnity that struck a chill +to the culprit's heart. He sat down and tried to seem gay, but it +was up-hill work; it roused no smile, no response, and he lapsed into +silence and let his heart sink down to the depths. + +After breakfast his aunt took him aside, and Tom almost brightened in +the hope that he was going to be flogged; but it was not so. His aunt +wept over him and asked him how he could go and break her old heart so; +and finally told him to go on, and ruin himself and bring her gray hairs +with sorrow to the grave, for it was no use for her to try any more. +This was worse than a thousand whippings, and Tom's heart was sorer now +than his body. He cried, he pleaded for forgiveness, promised to reform +over and over again, and then received his dismissal, feeling that +he had won but an imperfect forgiveness and established but a feeble +confidence. + +He left the presence too miserable to even feel revengeful toward +Sid; and so the latter's prompt retreat through the back gate was +unnecessary. He moped to school gloomy and sad, and took his flogging, +along with Joe Harper, for playing hookey the day before, with the +air of one whose heart was busy with heavier woes and wholly dead to +trifles. Then he betook himself to his seat, rested his elbows on his +desk and his jaws in his hands, and stared at the wall with the stony +stare of suffering that has reached the limit and can no further go. +His elbow was pressing against some hard substance. After a long time +he slowly and sadly changed his position, and took up this object with +a sigh. It was in a paper. He unrolled it. A long, lingering, colossal +sigh followed, and his heart broke. It was his brass andiron knob! + +This final feather broke the camel's back. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +CLOSE upon the hour of noon the whole village was suddenly electrified +with the ghastly news. No need of the as yet un-dreamed-of telegraph; +the tale flew from man to man, from group to group, from house to house, +with little less than telegraphic speed. Of course the schoolmaster gave +holi-day for that afternoon; the town would have thought strangely of +him if he had not. + +A gory knife had been found close to the murdered man, and it had been +recognized by somebody as belonging to Muff Potter--so the story ran. And +it was said that a belated citizen had come upon Potter washing himself +in the "branch" about one or two o'clock in the morning, and that Potter +had at once sneaked off--suspicious circumstances, especially the washing +which was not a habit with Potter. It was also said that the town had +been ransacked for this "murderer" (the public are not slow in the +matter of sifting evidence and arriving at a verdict), but that he +could not be found. Horsemen had departed down all the roads in every +direction, and the Sheriff "was confident" that he would be captured +before night. + +All the town was drifting toward the graveyard. Tom's heartbreak +vanished and he joined the procession, not because he would not +a thousand times rather go anywhere else, but because an awful, +unaccountable fascination drew him on. Arrived at the dreadful place, he +wormed his small body through the crowd and saw the dismal spectacle. +It seemed to him an age since he was there before. Somebody pinched +his arm. He turned, and his eyes met Huckleberry's. Then both looked +elsewhere at once, and wondered if anybody had noticed anything in their +mutual glance. But everybody was talking, and intent upon the grisly +spectacle before them. + +"Poor fellow!" "Poor young fellow!" "This ought to be a lesson to grave +robbers!" "Muff Potter'll hang for this if they catch him!" This was the +drift of remark; and the minister said, "It was a judgment; His hand is +here." + +Now Tom shivered from head to heel; for his eye fell upon the stolid +face of Injun Joe. At this moment the crowd began to sway and struggle, +and voices shouted, "It's him! it's him! he's coming himself!" + +"Who? Who?" from twenty voices. + +"Muff Potter!" + +"Hallo, he's stopped!--Look out, he's turning! Don't let him get away!" + +People in the branches of the trees over Tom's head said he wasn't +trying to get away--he only looked doubtful and perplexed. + +"Infernal impudence!" said a bystander; "wanted to come and take a quiet +look at his work, I reckon--didn't expect any company." + +The crowd fell apart, now, and the Sheriff came through, ostentatiously +leading Potter by the arm. The poor fellow's face was haggard, and +his eyes showed the fear that was upon him. When he stood before the +murdered man, he shook as with a palsy, and he put his face in his hands +and burst into tears. + +"I didn't do it, friends," he sobbed; "'pon my word and honor I never +done it." + +"Who's accused you?" shouted a voice. + +This shot seemed to carry home. Potter lifted his face and looked around +him with a pathetic hopelessness in his eyes. He saw Injun Joe, and +exclaimed: + +"Oh, Injun Joe, you promised me you'd never--" + +"Is that your knife?" and it was thrust before him by the Sheriff. + +Potter would have fallen if they had not caught him and eased him to the +ground. Then he said: + +"Something told me 't if I didn't come back and get--" He shuddered; then +waved his nerveless hand with a vanquished gesture and said, "Tell 'em, +Joe, tell 'em--it ain't any use any more." + +Then Huckleberry and Tom stood dumb and staring, and heard the +stony-hearted liar reel off his serene statement, they expecting every +moment that the clear sky would deliver God's lightnings upon his head, +and wondering to see how long the stroke was delayed. And when he had +finished and still stood alive and whole, their wavering impulse to +break their oath and save the poor betrayed prisoner's life faded and +vanished away, for plainly this miscreant had sold himself to Satan and +it would be fatal to meddle with the property of such a power as that. + +"Why didn't you leave? What did you want to come here for?" somebody +said. + +"I couldn't help it--I couldn't help it," Potter moaned. "I wanted to +run away, but I couldn't seem to come anywhere but here." And he fell to +sobbing again. + +Injun Joe repeated his statement, just as calmly, a few minutes +afterward on the inquest, under oath; and the boys, seeing that the +lightnings were still withheld, were confirmed in their belief that +Joe had sold himself to the devil. He was now become, to them, the most +balefully interesting object they had ever looked upon, and they could +not take their fascinated eyes from his face. + +They inwardly resolved to watch him nights, when opportunity should +offer, in the hope of getting a glimpse of his dread master. + +Injun Joe helped to raise the body of the murdered man and put it in +a wagon for removal; and it was whispered through the shuddering +crowd that the wound bled a little! The boys thought that this happy +circumstance would turn suspicion in the right direction; but they were +disappointed, for more than one villager remarked: + +"It was within three feet of Muff Potter when it done it." + +Tom's fearful secret and gnawing conscience disturbed his sleep for as +much as a week after this; and at breakfast one morning Sid said: + +"Tom, you pitch around and talk in your sleep so much that you keep me +awake half the time." + +Tom blanched and dropped his eyes. + +"It's a bad sign," said Aunt Polly, gravely. "What you got on your mind, +Tom?" + +"Nothing. Nothing 't I know of." But the boy's hand shook so that he +spilled his coffee. + +"And you do talk such stuff," Sid said. "Last night you said, 'It's +blood, it's blood, that's what it is!' You said that over and over. +And you said, 'Don't torment me so--I'll tell!' Tell _what_? What is it +you'll tell?" + +Everything was swimming before Tom. There is no telling what might have +happened, now, but luckily the concern passed out of Aunt Polly's face +and she came to Tom's relief without knowing it. She said: + +"Sho! It's that dreadful murder. I dream about it most every night +myself. Sometimes I dream it's me that done it." + +Mary said she had been affected much the same way. Sid seemed satisfied. +Tom got out of the presence as quick as he plausibly could, and after +that he complained of toothache for a week, and tied up his jaws every +night. He never knew that Sid lay nightly watching, and frequently +slipped the bandage free and then leaned on his elbow listening a good +while at a time, and afterward slipped the bandage back to its place +again. Tom's distress of mind wore off gradually and the toothache grew +irksome and was discarded. If Sid really managed to make anything out of +Tom's disjointed mutterings, he kept it to himself. + +It seemed to Tom that his schoolmates never would get done holding +inquests on dead cats, and thus keeping his trouble present to his mind. +Sid noticed that Tom never was coroner at one of these inquiries, +though it had been his habit to take the lead in all new enterprises; +he noticed, too, that Tom never acted as a witness--and that was strange; +and Sid did not overlook the fact that Tom even showed a marked aversion +to these inquests, and always avoided them when he could. Sid marvelled, +but said nothing. However, even inquests went out of vogue at last, and +ceased to torture Tom's conscience. + +Every day or two, during this time of sorrow, Tom watched his +opportunity and went to the little grated jail-window and smuggled such +small comforts through to the "murderer" as he could get hold of. The +jail was a trifling little brick den that stood in a marsh at the edge +of the village, and no guards were afforded for it; indeed, it +was seldom occupied. These offerings greatly helped to ease Tom's +conscience. + +The villagers had a strong desire to tar-and-feather Injun Joe and ride +him on a rail, for body-snatching, but so formidable was his character +that nobody could be found who was willing to take the lead in the +matter, so it was dropped. He had been careful to begin both of his +inquest-statements with the fight, without confessing the grave-robbery +that preceded it; therefore it was deemed wisest not to try the case in +the courts at present. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +ONE of the reasons why Tom's mind had drifted away from its secret +troubles was, that it had found a new and weighty matter to interest +itself about. Becky Thatcher had stopped coming to school. Tom had +struggled with his pride a few days, and tried to "whistle her down the +wind," but failed. He began to find himself hanging around her father's +house, nights, and feeling very miserable. She was ill. What if she +should die! There was distraction in the thought. He no longer took an +interest in war, nor even in piracy. The charm of life was gone; there +was nothing but dreariness left. He put his hoop away, and his bat; +there was no joy in them any more. His aunt was concerned. She began to +try all manner of remedies on him. She was one of those people who +are infatuated with patent medicines and all new-fangled methods of +producing health or mending it. She was an inveterate experimenter in +these things. When something fresh in this line came out she was in a +fever, right away, to try it; not on herself, for she was never ailing, +but on anybody else that came handy. She was a subscriber for all the +"Health" periodicals and phrenological frauds; and the solemn ignorance +they were inflated with was breath to her nostrils. All the "rot" they +contained about ventilation, and how to go to bed, and how to get up, +and what to eat, and what to drink, and how much exercise to take, and +what frame of mind to keep one's self in, and what sort of clothing +to wear, was all gospel to her, and she never observed that her +health-journals of the current month customarily upset everything they +had recommended the month before. She was as simple-hearted and honest +as the day was long, and so she was an easy victim. She gathered +together her quack periodicals and her quack medicines, and thus armed +with death, went about on her pale horse, metaphorically speaking, with +"hell following after." But she never suspected that she was not an +angel of healing and the balm of Gilead in disguise, to the suffering +neighbors. + +The water treatment was new, now, and Tom's low condition was a windfall +to her. She had him out at daylight every morning, stood him up in the +wood-shed and drowned him with a deluge of cold water; then she scrubbed +him down with a towel like a file, and so brought him to; then she +rolled him up in a wet sheet and put him away under blankets till she +sweated his soul clean and "the yellow stains of it came through his +pores"--as Tom said. + +Yet notwithstanding all this, the boy grew more and more melancholy and +pale and dejected. She added hot baths, sitz baths, shower baths, and +plunges. The boy remained as dismal as a hearse. She began to assist the +water with a slim oatmeal diet and blister-plasters. She calculated his +capacity as she would a jug's, and filled him up every day with quack +cure-alls. + +Tom had become indifferent to persecution by this time. This phase +filled the old lady's heart with consternation. This indifference must +be broken up at any cost. Now she heard of Pain-killer for the first +time. She ordered a lot at once. She tasted it and was filled with +gratitude. It was simply fire in a liquid form. She dropped the water +treatment and everything else, and pinned her faith to Pain-killer. +She gave Tom a teaspoonful and watched with the deepest anxiety for the +result. Her troubles were instantly at rest, her soul at peace again; +for the "indifference" was broken up. The boy could not have shown a +wilder, heartier interest, if she had built a fire under him. + +Tom felt that it was time to wake up; this sort of life might be +romantic enough, in his blighted condition, but it was getting to have +too little sentiment and too much distracting variety about it. So he +thought over various plans for relief, and finally hit upon that of +professing to be fond of Pain-killer. He asked for it so often that he +became a nuisance, and his aunt ended by telling him to help himself and +quit bothering her. If it had been Sid, she would have had no misgivings +to alloy her delight; but since it was Tom, she watched the bottle +clandestinely. She found that the medicine did really diminish, but it +did not occur to her that the boy was mending the health of a crack in +the sitting-room floor with it. + +One day Tom was in the act of dosing the crack when his aunt's yellow +cat came along, purring, eyeing the teaspoon avariciously, and begging +for a taste. Tom said: + +"Don't ask for it unless you want it, Peter." + +But Peter signified that he did want it. + +"You better make sure." + +Peter was sure. + +"Now you've asked for it, and I'll give it to you, because there ain't +anything mean about me; but if you find you don't like it, you mustn't +blame anybody but your own self." + +Peter was agreeable. So Tom pried his mouth open and poured down +the Pain-killer. Peter sprang a couple of yards in the air, and then +delivered a war-whoop and set off round and round the room, banging +against furniture, upsetting flower-pots, and making general havoc. Next +he rose on his hind feet and pranced around, in a frenzy of enjoyment, +with his head over his shoulder and his voice proclaiming his +unappeasable happiness. Then he went tearing around the house again +spreading chaos and destruction in his path. Aunt Polly entered in time +to see him throw a few double summersets, deliver a final mighty hurrah, +and sail through the open window, carrying the rest of the flower-pots +with him. The old lady stood petrified with astonishment, peering over +her glasses; Tom lay on the floor expiring with laughter. + +"Tom, what on earth ails that cat?" + +"I don't know, aunt," gasped the boy. + +"Why, I never see anything like it. What did make him act so?" + +"Deed I don't know, Aunt Polly; cats always act so when they're having a +good time." + +"They do, do they?" There was something in the tone that made Tom +apprehensive. + +"Yes'm. That is, I believe they do." + +"You _do_?" + +"Yes'm." + +The old lady was bending down, Tom watching, with interest emphasized +by anxiety. Too late he divined her "drift." The handle of the telltale +tea-spoon was visible under the bed-valance. Aunt Polly took it, held it +up. Tom winced, and dropped his eyes. Aunt Polly raised him by the usual +handle--his ear--and cracked his head soundly with her thimble. + +"Now, sir, what did you want to treat that poor dumb beast so, for?" + +"I done it out of pity for him--because he hadn't any aunt." + +"Hadn't any aunt!--you numskull. What has that got to do with it?" + +"Heaps. Because if he'd had one she'd a burnt him out herself! She'd a +roasted his bowels out of him 'thout any more feeling than if he was a +human!" + +Aunt Polly felt a sudden pang of remorse. This was putting the thing in +a new light; what was cruelty to a cat _might_ be cruelty to a boy, too. +She began to soften; she felt sorry. Her eyes watered a little, and she +put her hand on Tom's head and said gently: + +"I was meaning for the best, Tom. And, Tom, it _did_ do you good." + +Tom looked up in her face with just a perceptible twinkle peeping +through his gravity. + +"I know you was meaning for the best, aunty, and so was I with Peter. It +done _him_ good, too. I never see him get around so since--" + +"Oh, go 'long with you, Tom, before you aggravate me again. And you try +and see if you can't be a good boy, for once, and you needn't take any +more medicine." + +Tom reached school ahead of time. It was noticed that this strange thing +had been occurring every day latterly. And now, as usual of late, +he hung about the gate of the schoolyard instead of playing with his +comrades. He was sick, he said, and he looked it. He tried to seem to +be looking everywhere but whither he really was looking--down the road. +Presently Jeff Thatcher hove in sight, and Tom's face lighted; he gazed +a moment, and then turned sorrowfully away. When Jeff arrived, Tom +accosted him; and "led up" warily to opportunities for remark about +Becky, but the giddy lad never could see the bait. Tom watched and +watched, hoping whenever a frisking frock came in sight, and hating the +owner of it as soon as he saw she was not the right one. At last frocks +ceased to appear, and he dropped hopelessly into the dumps; he entered +the empty schoolhouse and sat down to suffer. Then one more frock passed +in at the gate, and Tom's heart gave a great bound. The next instant he +was out, and "going on" like an Indian; yelling, laughing, chasing boys, +jumping over the fence at risk of life and limb, throwing handsprings, +standing on his head--doing all the heroic things he could conceive of, +and keeping a furtive eye out, all the while, to see if Becky Thatcher +was noticing. But she seemed to be unconscious of it all; she never +looked. Could it be possible that she was not aware that he was there? +He carried his exploits to her immediate vicinity; came war-whooping +around, snatched a boy's cap, hurled it to the roof of the schoolhouse, +broke through a group of boys, tumbling them in every direction, and +fell sprawling, himself, under Becky's nose, almost upsetting her--and +she turned, with her nose in the air, and he heard her say: "Mf! some +people think they're mighty smart--always showing off!" + +Tom's cheeks burned. He gathered himself up and sneaked off, crushed and +crestfallen. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +TOM'S mind was made up now. He was gloomy and desperate. He was a +forsaken, friendless boy, he said; nobody loved him; when they found out +what they had driven him to, perhaps they would be sorry; he had tried +to do right and get along, but they would not let him; since nothing +would do them but to be rid of him, let it be so; and let them blame +_him_ for the consequences--why shouldn't they? What right had the +friendless to complain? Yes, they had forced him to it at last: he would +lead a life of crime. There was no choice. + +By this time he was far down Meadow Lane, and the bell for school to +"take up" tinkled faintly upon his ear. He sobbed, now, to think he +should never, never hear that old familiar sound any more--it was very +hard, but it was forced on him; since he was driven out into the cold +world, he must submit--but he forgave them. Then the sobs came thick and +fast. + +Just at this point he met his soul's sworn comrade, Joe +Harper--hard-eyed, and with evidently a great and dismal purpose in his +heart. Plainly here were "two souls with but a single thought." Tom, +wiping his eyes with his sleeve, began to blubber out something about +a resolution to escape from hard usage and lack of sympathy at home by +roaming abroad into the great world never to return; and ended by hoping +that Joe would not forget him. + +But it transpired that this was a request which Joe had just been going +to make of Tom, and had come to hunt him up for that purpose. His mother +had whipped him for drinking some cream which he had never tasted and +knew nothing about; it was plain that she was tired of him and wished +him to go; if she felt that way, there was nothing for him to do but +succumb; he hoped she would be happy, and never regret having driven her +poor boy out into the unfeeling world to suffer and die. + +As the two boys walked sorrowing along, they made a new compact to stand +by each other and be brothers and never separate till death relieved +them of their troubles. Then they began to lay their plans. Joe was for +being a hermit, and living on crusts in a remote cave, and dying, +some time, of cold and want and grief; but after listening to Tom, he +conceded that there were some conspicuous advantages about a life of +crime, and so he consented to be a pirate. + +Three miles below St. Petersburg, at a point where the Mississippi River +was a trifle over a mile wide, there was a long, narrow, wooded island, +with a shallow bar at the head of it, and this offered well as a +rendezvous. It was not inhabited; it lay far over toward the further +shore, abreast a dense and almost wholly unpeopled forest. So Jackson's +Island was chosen. Who were to be the subjects of their piracies was a +matter that did not occur to them. Then they hunted up Huckleberry Finn, +and he joined them promptly, for all careers were one to him; he was +indifferent. They presently separated to meet at a lonely spot on the +river-bank two miles above the village at the favorite hour--which was +midnight. There was a small log raft there which they meant to capture. +Each would bring hooks and lines, and such provision as he could steal +in the most dark and mysterious way--as became outlaws. And before the +afternoon was done, they had all managed to enjoy the sweet glory of +spreading the fact that pretty soon the town would "hear something." All +who got this vague hint were cautioned to "be mum and wait." + +About midnight Tom arrived with a boiled ham and a few trifles, +and stopped in a dense undergrowth on a small bluff overlooking the +meeting-place. It was starlight, and very still. The mighty river lay +like an ocean at rest. Tom listened a moment, but no sound disturbed the +quiet. Then he gave a low, distinct whistle. It was answered from under +the bluff. Tom whistled twice more; these signals were answered in the +same way. Then a guarded voice said: + +"Who goes there?" + +"Tom Sawyer, the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main. Name your names." + +"Huck Finn the Red-Handed, and Joe Harper the Terror of the Seas." Tom +had furnished these titles, from his favorite literature. + +"'Tis well. Give the countersign." + +Two hoarse whispers delivered the same awful word simultaneously to the +brooding night: + +"_Blood_!" + +Then Tom tumbled his ham over the bluff and let himself down after it, +tearing both skin and clothes to some extent in the effort. There was +an easy, comfortable path along the shore under the bluff, but it lacked +the advantages of difficulty and danger so valued by a pirate. + +The Terror of the Seas had brought a side of bacon, and had about worn +himself out with getting it there. Finn the Red-Handed had stolen a +skillet and a quantity of half-cured leaf tobacco, and had also brought +a few corn-cobs to make pipes with. But none of the pirates smoked or +"chewed" but himself. The Black Avenger of the Spanish Main said it +would never do to start without some fire. That was a wise thought; +matches were hardly known there in that day. They saw a fire smouldering +upon a great raft a hundred yards above, and they went stealthily +thither and helped themselves to a chunk. They made an imposing +adventure of it, saying, "Hist!" every now and then, and suddenly +halting with finger on lip; moving with hands on imaginary dagger-hilts; +and giving orders in dismal whispers that if "the foe" stirred, to "let +him have it to the hilt," because "dead men tell no tales." They knew +well enough that the raftsmen were all down at the village laying +in stores or having a spree, but still that was no excuse for their +conducting this thing in an unpiratical way. + +They shoved off, presently, Tom in command, Huck at the after oar and +Joe at the forward. Tom stood amidships, gloomy-browed, and with folded +arms, and gave his orders in a low, stern whisper: + +"Luff, and bring her to the wind!" + +"Aye-aye, sir!" + +"Steady, steady-y-y-y!" + +"Steady it is, sir!" + +"Let her go off a point!" + +"Point it is, sir!" + +As the boys steadily and monotonously drove the raft toward mid-stream +it was no doubt understood that these orders were given only for +"style," and were not intended to mean anything in particular. + +"What sail's she carrying?" + +"Courses, tops'ls, and flying-jib, sir." + +"Send the r'yals up! Lay out aloft, there, half a dozen of +ye--foretopmaststuns'l! Lively, now!" + +"Aye-aye, sir!" + +"Shake out that maintogalans'l! Sheets and braces! _now_ my hearties!" + +"Aye-aye, sir!" + +"Hellum-a-lee--hard a port! Stand by to meet her when she comes! Port, +port! _Now_, men! With a will! Stead-y-y-y!" + +"Steady it is, sir!" + +The raft drew beyond the middle of the river; the boys pointed her head +right, and then lay on their oars. The river was not high, so there was +not more than a two or three mile current. Hardly a word was said during +the next three-quarters of an hour. Now the raft was passing before +the distant town. Two or three glimmering lights showed where it lay, +peacefully sleeping, beyond the vague vast sweep of star-gemmed water, +unconscious of the tremendous event that was happening. The Black +Avenger stood still with folded arms, "looking his last" upon the scene +of his former joys and his later sufferings, and wishing "she" could see +him now, abroad on the wild sea, facing peril and death with dauntless +heart, going to his doom with a grim smile on his lips. It was but +a small strain on his imagination to remove Jackson's Island beyond +eye-shot of the village, and so he "looked his last" with a broken and +satisfied heart. The other pirates were looking their last, too; and +they all looked so long that they came near letting the current drift +them out of the range of the island. But they discovered the danger in +time, and made shift to avert it. About two o'clock in the morning the +raft grounded on the bar two hundred yards above the head of the island, +and they waded back and forth until they had landed their freight. Part +of the little raft's belongings consisted of an old sail, and this they +spread over a nook in the bushes for a tent to shelter their provisions; +but they themselves would sleep in the open air in good weather, as +became outlaws. + +They built a fire against the side of a great log twenty or thirty steps +within the sombre depths of the forest, and then cooked some bacon in +the frying-pan for supper, and used up half of the corn "pone" stock +they had brought. It seemed glorious sport to be feasting in that wild, +free way in the virgin forest of an unexplored and uninhabited island, +far from the haunts of men, and they said they never would return to +civilization. The climbing fire lit up their faces and threw its ruddy +glare upon the pillared tree-trunks of their forest temple, and upon the +varnished foliage and festooning vines. + +When the last crisp slice of bacon was gone, and the last allowance +of corn pone devoured, the boys stretched themselves out on the grass, +filled with contentment. They could have found a cooler place, but +they would not deny themselves such a romantic feature as the roasting +campfire. + +"_Ain't_ it gay?" said Joe. + +"It's _nuts_!" said Tom. "What would the boys say if they could see us?" + +"Say? Well, they'd just die to be here--hey, Hucky!" + +"I reckon so," said Huckleberry; "anyways, I'm suited. I don't want +nothing better'n this. I don't ever get enough to eat, gen'ally--and here +they can't come and pick at a feller and bullyrag him so." + +"It's just the life for me," said Tom. "You don't have to get up, +mornings, and you don't have to go to school, and wash, and all that +blame foolishness. You see a pirate don't have to do _anything_, Joe, +when he's ashore, but a hermit _he_ has to be praying considerable, and +then he don't have any fun, anyway, all by himself that way." + +"Oh yes, that's so," said Joe, "but I hadn't thought much about it, you +know. I'd a good deal rather be a pirate, now that I've tried it." + +"You see," said Tom, "people don't go much on hermits, nowadays, like +they used to in old times, but a pirate's always respected. And +a hermit's got to sleep on the hardest place he can find, and put +sackcloth and ashes on his head, and stand out in the rain, and--" + +"What does he put sackcloth and ashes on his head for?" inquired Huck. + +"I dono. But they've _got_ to do it. Hermits always do. You'd have to do +that if you was a hermit." + +"Dern'd if I would," said Huck. + +"Well, what would you do?" + +"I dono. But I wouldn't do that." + +"Why, Huck, you'd _have_ to. How'd you get around it?" + +"Why, I just wouldn't stand it. I'd run away." + +"Run away! Well, you _would_ be a nice old slouch of a hermit. You'd be +a disgrace." + +The Red-Handed made no response, being better employed. He had finished +gouging out a cob, and now he fitted a weed stem to it, loaded it with +tobacco, and was pressing a coal to the charge and blowing a cloud of +fragrant smoke--he was in the full bloom of luxurious contentment. The +other pirates envied him this majestic vice, and secretly resolved to +acquire it shortly. Presently Huck said: + +"What does pirates have to do?" + +Tom said: + +"Oh, they have just a bully time--take ships and burn them, and get the +money and bury it in awful places in their island where there's ghosts +and things to watch it, and kill everybody in the ships--make 'em walk a +plank." + +"And they carry the women to the island," said Joe; "they don't kill the +women." + +"No," assented Tom, "they don't kill the women--they're too noble. And +the women's always beautiful, too. + +"And don't they wear the bulliest clothes! Oh no! All gold and silver +and di'monds," said Joe, with enthusiasm. + +"Who?" said Huck. + +"Why, the pirates." + +Huck scanned his own clothing forlornly. + +"I reckon I ain't dressed fitten for a pirate," said he, with a +regretful pathos in his voice; "but I ain't got none but these." + +But the other boys told him the fine clothes would come fast enough, +after they should have begun their adventures. They made him understand +that his poor rags would do to begin with, though it was customary for +wealthy pirates to start with a proper wardrobe. + +Gradually their talk died out and drowsiness began to steal upon the +eyelids of the little waifs. The pipe dropped from the fingers of the +Red-Handed, and he slept the sleep of the conscience-free and the weary. +The Terror of the Seas and the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main had +more difficulty in getting to sleep. They said their prayers inwardly, +and lying down, since there was nobody there with authority to make them +kneel and recite aloud; in truth, they had a mind not to say them at +all, but they were afraid to proceed to such lengths as that, lest they +might call down a sudden and special thunderbolt from heaven. Then at +once they reached and hovered upon the imminent verge of sleep--but an +intruder came, now, that would not "down." It was conscience. They began +to feel a vague fear that they had been doing wrong to run away; and +next they thought of the stolen meat, and then the real torture came. +They tried to argue it away by reminding conscience that they had +purloined sweetmeats and apples scores of times; but conscience was not +to be appeased by such thin plausibilities; it seemed to them, in the +end, that there was no getting around the stubborn fact that taking +sweetmeats was only "hooking," while taking bacon and hams and such +valuables was plain simple stealing--and there was a command against that +in the Bible. So they inwardly resolved that so long as they remained in +the business, their piracies should not again be sullied with the +crime of stealing. Then conscience granted a truce, and these curiously +inconsistent pirates fell peacefully to sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +WHEN Tom awoke in the morning, he wondered where he was. He sat up and +rubbed his eyes and looked around. Then he comprehended. It was the cool +gray dawn, and there was a delicious sense of repose and peace in the +deep pervading calm and silence of the woods. Not a leaf stirred; not +a sound obtruded upon great Nature's meditation. Beaded dewdrops stood +upon the leaves and grasses. A white layer of ashes covered the fire, +and a thin blue breath of smoke rose straight into the air. Joe and Huck +still slept. + +Now, far away in the woods a bird called; another answered; presently +the hammering of a woodpecker was heard. Gradually the cool dim gray +of the morning whitened, and as gradually sounds multiplied and life +manifested itself. The marvel of Nature shaking off sleep and going +to work unfolded itself to the musing boy. A little green worm came +crawling over a dewy leaf, lifting two-thirds of his body into the air +from time to time and "sniffing around," then proceeding again--for he +was measuring, Tom said; and when the worm approached him, of its own +accord, he sat as still as a stone, with his hopes rising and falling, +by turns, as the creature still came toward him or seemed inclined to +go elsewhere; and when at last it considered a painful moment with its +curved body in the air and then came decisively down upon Tom's leg and +began a journey over him, his whole heart was glad--for that meant that +he was going to have a new suit of clothes--without the shadow of a +doubt a gaudy piratical uniform. Now a procession of ants appeared, +from nowhere in particular, and went about their labors; one struggled +manfully by with a dead spider five times as big as itself in its arms, +and lugged it straight up a tree-trunk. A brown spotted lady-bug climbed +the dizzy height of a grass blade, and Tom bent down close to it and +said, "Lady-bug, lady-bug, fly away home, your house is on fire, your +children's alone," and she took wing and went off to see about it--which +did not surprise the boy, for he knew of old that this insect was +credulous about conflagrations, and he had practised upon its simplicity +more than once. A tumblebug came next, heaving sturdily at its ball, and +Tom touched the creature, to see it shut its legs against its body +and pretend to be dead. The birds were fairly rioting by this time. A +catbird, the Northern mocker, lit in a tree over Tom's head, and trilled +out her imitations of her neighbors in a rapture of enjoyment; then +a shrill jay swept down, a flash of blue flame, and stopped on a twig +almost within the boy's reach, cocked his head to one side and eyed the +strangers with a consuming curiosity; a gray squirrel and a big fellow +of the "fox" kind came skurrying along, sitting up at intervals to +inspect and chatter at the boys, for the wild things had probably never +seen a human being before and scarcely knew whether to be afraid or not. +All Nature was wide awake and stirring, now; long lances of sunlight +pierced down through the dense foliage far and near, and a few +butterflies came fluttering upon the scene. + +Tom stirred up the other pirates and they all clattered away with +a shout, and in a minute or two were stripped and chasing after and +tumbling over each other in the shallow limpid water of the white +sandbar. They felt no longing for the little village sleeping in the +distance beyond the majestic waste of water. A vagrant current or a +slight rise in the river had carried off their raft, but this only +gratified them, since its going was something like burning the bridge +between them and civilization. + +They came back to camp wonderfully refreshed, glad-hearted, and +ravenous; and they soon had the camp-fire blazing up again. Huck found a +spring of clear cold water close by, and the boys made cups of broad oak +or hickory leaves, and felt that water, sweetened with such a wildwood +charm as that, would be a good enough substitute for coffee. While Joe +was slicing bacon for breakfast, Tom and Huck asked him to hold on a +minute; they stepped to a promising nook in the river-bank and threw in +their lines; almost immediately they had reward. Joe had not had time +to get impatient before they were back again with some handsome bass, +a couple of sun-perch and a small catfish--provisions enough for quite a +family. They fried the fish with the bacon, and were astonished; for +no fish had ever seemed so delicious before. They did not know that the +quicker a fresh-water fish is on the fire after he is caught the better +he is; and they reflected little upon what a sauce open-air sleeping, +open-air exercise, bathing, and a large ingredient of hunger make, too. + +They lay around in the shade, after breakfast, while Huck had a smoke, +and then went off through the woods on an exploring expedition. They +tramped gayly along, over decaying logs, through tangled underbrush, +among solemn monarchs of the forest, hung from their crowns to the +ground with a drooping regalia of grape-vines. Now and then they came +upon snug nooks carpeted with grass and jeweled with flowers. + +They found plenty of things to be delighted with, but nothing to be +astonished at. They discovered that the island was about three miles +long and a quarter of a mile wide, and that the shore it lay closest to +was only separated from it by a narrow channel hardly two hundred yards +wide. They took a swim about every hour, so it was close upon the middle +of the afternoon when they got back to camp. They were too hungry to +stop to fish, but they fared sumptuously upon cold ham, and then threw +themselves down in the shade to talk. But the talk soon began to drag, +and then died. The stillness, the solemnity that brooded in the woods, +and the sense of loneliness, began to tell upon the spirits of the boys. +They fell to thinking. A sort of undefined longing crept upon them. This +took dim shape, presently--it was budding homesickness. Even Finn the +Red-Handed was dreaming of his doorsteps and empty hogsheads. But they +were all ashamed of their weakness, and none was brave enough to speak +his thought. + +For some time, now, the boys had been dully conscious of a peculiar +sound in the distance, just as one sometimes is of the ticking of a +clock which he takes no distinct note of. But now this mysterious sound +became more pronounced, and forced a recognition. The boys started, +glanced at each other, and then each assumed a listening attitude. There +was a long silence, profound and unbroken; then a deep, sullen boom came +floating down out of the distance. + +"What is it!" exclaimed Joe, under his breath. + +"I wonder," said Tom in a whisper. + +"'Tain't thunder," said Huckleberry, in an awed tone, "becuz thunder--" + +"Hark!" said Tom. "Listen--don't talk." + +They waited a time that seemed an age, and then the same muffled boom +troubled the solemn hush. + +"Let's go and see." + +They sprang to their feet and hurried to the shore toward the town. They +parted the bushes on the bank and peered out over the water. The little +steam ferry-boat was about a mile below the village, drifting with the +current. Her broad deck seemed crowded with people. There were a great +many skiffs rowing about or floating with the stream in the neighborhood +of the ferryboat, but the boys could not determine what the men in +them were doing. Presently a great jet of white smoke burst from the +ferryboat's side, and as it expanded and rose in a lazy cloud, that same +dull throb of sound was borne to the listeners again. + +"I know now!" exclaimed Tom; "somebody's drownded!" + +"That's it!" said Huck; "they done that last summer, when Bill Turner +got drownded; they shoot a cannon over the water, and that makes +him come up to the top. Yes, and they take loaves of bread and put +quicksilver in 'em and set 'em afloat, and wherever there's anybody +that's drownded, they'll float right there and stop." + +"Yes, I've heard about that," said Joe. "I wonder what makes the bread +do that." + +"Oh, it ain't the bread, so much," said Tom; "I reckon it's mostly what +they _say_ over it before they start it out." + +"But they don't say anything over it," said Huck. "I've seen 'em and +they don't." + +"Well, that's funny," said Tom. "But maybe they say it to themselves. Of +_course_ they do. Anybody might know that." + +The other boys agreed that there was reason in what Tom said, because +an ignorant lump of bread, uninstructed by an incantation, could not +be expected to act very intelligently when set upon an errand of such +gravity. + +"By jings, I wish I was over there, now," said Joe. + +"I do too" said Huck "I'd give heaps to know who it is." + +The boys still listened and watched. Presently a revealing thought +flashed through Tom's mind, and he exclaimed: + +"Boys, I know who's drownded--it's us!" + +They felt like heroes in an instant. Here was a gorgeous triumph; they +were missed; they were mourned; hearts were breaking on their account; +tears were being shed; accusing memories of unkindness to these poor +lost lads were rising up, and unavailing regrets and remorse were being +indulged; and best of all, the departed were the talk of the whole town, +and the envy of all the boys, as far as this dazzling notoriety was +concerned. This was fine. It was worth while to be a pirate, after all. + +As twilight drew on, the ferryboat went back to her accustomed business +and the skiffs disappeared. The pirates returned to camp. They were +jubilant with vanity over their new grandeur and the illustrious trouble +they were making. They caught fish, cooked supper and ate it, and then +fell to guessing at what the village was thinking and saying about them; +and the pictures they drew of the public distress on their account were +gratifying to look upon--from their point of view. But when the shadows +of night closed them in, they gradually ceased to talk, and sat gazing +into the fire, with their minds evidently wandering elsewhere. The +excitement was gone, now, and Tom and Joe could not keep back thoughts +of certain persons at home who were not enjoying this fine frolic as +much as they were. Misgivings came; they grew troubled and unhappy; a +sigh or two escaped, unawares. By and by Joe timidly ventured upon a +roundabout "feeler" as to how the others might look upon a return to +civilization--not right now, but-- + +Tom withered him with derision! Huck, being uncommitted as yet, joined +in with Tom, and the waverer quickly "explained," and was glad to get +out of the scrape with as little taint of chicken-hearted home-sickness +clinging to his garments as he could. Mutiny was effectually laid to +rest for the moment. + +As the night deepened, Huck began to nod, and presently to snore. +Joe followed next. Tom lay upon his elbow motionless, for some time, +watching the two intently. At last he got up cautiously, on his knees, +and went searching among the grass and the flickering reflections flung +by the campfire. He picked up and inspected several large semi-cylinders +of the thin white bark of a sycamore, and finally chose two which seemed +to suit him. Then he knelt by the fire and painfully wrote something +upon each of these with his "red keel"; one he rolled up and put in his +jacket pocket, and the other he put in Joe's hat and removed it to a +little distance from the owner. And he also put into the hat certain +schoolboy treasures of almost inestimable value--among them a lump of +chalk, an India-rubber ball, three fishhooks, and one of that kind +of marbles known as a "sure 'nough crystal." Then he tiptoed his way +cautiously among the trees till he felt that he was out of hearing, and +straightway broke into a keen run in the direction of the sandbar. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +A few minutes later Tom was in the shoal water of the bar, wading toward +the Illinois shore. Before the depth reached his middle he was halfway +over; the current would permit no more wading, now, so he struck out +confidently to swim the remaining hundred yards. He swam quartering +upstream, but still was swept downward rather faster than he had +expected. However, he reached the shore finally, and drifted along till +he found a low place and drew himself out. He put his hand on his jacket +pocket, found his piece of bark safe, and then struck through the woods, +following the shore, with streaming garments. Shortly before ten +o'clock he came out into an open place opposite the village, and saw the +ferryboat lying in the shadow of the trees and the high bank. Everything +was quiet under the blinking stars. He crept down the bank, watching +with all his eyes, slipped into the water, swam three or four strokes +and climbed into the skiff that did "yawl" duty at the boat's stern. He +laid himself down under the thwarts and waited, panting. + +Presently the cracked bell tapped and a voice gave the order to "cast +off." A minute or two later the skiff's head was standing high up, +against the boat's swell, and the voyage was begun. Tom felt happy in +his success, for he knew it was the boat's last trip for the night. At +the end of a long twelve or fifteen minutes the wheels stopped, and +Tom slipped overboard and swam ashore in the dusk, landing fifty yards +downstream, out of danger of possible stragglers. + +He flew along unfrequented alleys, and shortly found himself at his +aunt's back fence. He climbed over, approached the "ell," and looked +in at the sitting-room window, for a light was burning there. There +sat Aunt Polly, Sid, Mary, and Joe Harper's mother, grouped together, +talking. They were by the bed, and the bed was between them and the +door. Tom went to the door and began to softly lift the latch; then +he pressed gently and the door yielded a crack; he continued pushing +cautiously, and quaking every time it creaked, till he judged he might +squeeze through on his knees; so he put his head through and began, +warily. + +"What makes the candle blow so?" said Aunt Polly. Tom hurried up. "Why, +that door's open, I believe. Why, of course it is. No end of strange +things now. Go 'long and shut it, Sid." + +Tom disappeared under the bed just in time. He lay and "breathed" +himself for a time, and then crept to where he could almost touch his +aunt's foot. + +"But as I was saying," said Aunt Polly, "he warn't _bad_, so to say--only +misch_ee_vous. Only just giddy, and harum-scarum, you know. He warn't +any more responsible than a colt. _He_ never meant any harm, and he was +the best-hearted boy that ever was"--and she began to cry. + +"It was just so with my Joe--always full of his devilment, and up to +every kind of mischief, but he was just as unselfish and kind as he +could be--and laws bless me, to think I went and whipped him for taking +that cream, never once recollecting that I throwed it out myself because +it was sour, and I never to see him again in this world, never, never, +never, poor abused boy!" And Mrs. Harper sobbed as if her heart would +break. + +"I hope Tom's better off where he is," said Sid, "but if he'd been +better in some ways--" + +"_Sid!_" Tom felt the glare of the old lady's eye, though he could not +see it. "Not a word against my Tom, now that he's gone! God'll take care +of _him_--never you trouble _your_self, sir! Oh, Mrs. Harper, I don't +know how to give him up! I don't know how to give him up! He was such a +comfort to me, although he tormented my old heart out of me, 'most." + +"The Lord giveth and the Lord hath taken away--Blessed be the name of +the Lord! But it's so hard--Oh, it's so hard! Only last Saturday my Joe +busted a firecracker right under my nose and I knocked him sprawling. +Little did I know then, how soon--Oh, if it was to do over again I'd hug +him and bless him for it." + +"Yes, yes, yes, I know just how you feel, Mrs. Harper, I know just +exactly how you feel. No longer ago than yesterday noon, my Tom took +and filled the cat full of Pain-killer, and I did think the cretur would +tear the house down. And God forgive me, I cracked Tom's head with my +thimble, poor boy, poor dead boy. But he's out of all his troubles now. +And the last words I ever heard him say was to reproach--" + +But this memory was too much for the old lady, and she broke entirely +down. Tom was snuffling, now, himself--and more in pity of himself than +anybody else. He could hear Mary crying, and putting in a kindly word +for him from time to time. He began to have a nobler opinion of himself +than ever before. Still, he was sufficiently touched by his aunt's grief +to long to rush out from under the bed and overwhelm her with joy--and +the theatrical gorgeousness of the thing appealed strongly to his +nature, too, but he resisted and lay still. + +He went on listening, and gathered by odds and ends that it was +conjectured at first that the boys had got drowned while taking a swim; +then the small raft had been missed; next, certain boys said the missing +lads had promised that the village should "hear something" soon; the +wise-heads had "put this and that together" and decided that the lads +had gone off on that raft and would turn up at the next town below, +presently; but toward noon the raft had been found, lodged against the +Missouri shore some five or six miles below the village--and then hope +perished; they must be drowned, else hunger would have driven them home +by nightfall if not sooner. It was believed that the search for the +bodies had been a fruitless effort merely because the drowning must +have occurred in mid-channel, since the boys, being good swimmers, would +otherwise have escaped to shore. This was Wednesday night. If the bodies +continued missing until Sunday, all hope would be given over, and the +funerals would be preached on that morning. Tom shuddered. + +Mrs. Harper gave a sobbing goodnight and turned to go. Then with a +mutual impulse the two bereaved women flung themselves into each other's +arms and had a good, consoling cry, and then parted. Aunt Polly was +tender far beyond her wont, in her goodnight to Sid and Mary. Sid +snuffled a bit and Mary went off crying with all her heart. + +Aunt Polly knelt down and prayed for Tom so touchingly, so appealingly, +and with such measureless love in her words and her old trembling voice, +that he was weltering in tears again, long before she was through. + +He had to keep still long after she went to bed, for she kept making +broken-hearted ejaculations from time to time, tossing unrestfully, and +turning over. But at last she was still, only moaning a little in her +sleep. Now the boy stole out, rose gradually by the bedside, shaded the +candle-light with his hand, and stood regarding her. His heart was full +of pity for her. He took out his sycamore scroll and placed it by the +candle. But something occurred to him, and he lingered considering. +His face lighted with a happy solution of his thought; he put the bark +hastily in his pocket. Then he bent over and kissed the faded lips, and +straightway made his stealthy exit, latching the door behind him. + +He threaded his way back to the ferry landing, found nobody at large +there, and walked boldly on board the boat, for he knew she was +tenantless except that there was a watchman, who always turned in and +slept like a graven image. He untied the skiff at the stern, slipped +into it, and was soon rowing cautiously upstream. When he had pulled a +mile above the village, he started quartering across and bent himself +stoutly to his work. He hit the landing on the other side neatly, for +this was a familiar bit of work to him. He was moved to capture +the skiff, arguing that it might be considered a ship and therefore +legitimate prey for a pirate, but he knew a thorough search would be +made for it and that might end in revelations. So he stepped ashore and +entered the woods. + +He sat down and took a long rest, torturing himself meanwhile to keep +awake, and then started warily down the home-stretch. The night was far +spent. It was broad daylight before he found himself fairly abreast the +island bar. He rested again until the sun was well up and gilding the +great river with its splendor, and then he plunged into the stream. A +little later he paused, dripping, upon the threshold of the camp, and +heard Joe say: + +"No, Tom's true-blue, Huck, and he'll come back. He won't desert. He +knows that would be a disgrace to a pirate, and Tom's too proud for that +sort of thing. He's up to something or other. Now I wonder what?" + +"Well, the things is ours, anyway, ain't they?" + +"Pretty near, but not yet, Huck. The writing says they are if he ain't +back here to breakfast." + +"Which he is!" exclaimed Tom, with fine dramatic effect, stepping +grandly into camp. + +A sumptuous breakfast of bacon and fish was shortly provided, and as the +boys set to work upon it, Tom recounted (and adorned) his adventures. +They were a vain and boastful company of heroes when the tale was done. +Then Tom hid himself away in a shady nook to sleep till noon, and the +other pirates got ready to fish and explore. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +AFTER dinner all the gang turned out to hunt for turtle eggs on the bar. +They went about poking sticks into the sand, and when they found a soft +place they went down on their knees and dug with their hands. Sometimes +they would take fifty or sixty eggs out of one hole. They were perfectly +round white things a trifle smaller than an English walnut. They had a +famous fried-egg feast that night, and another on Friday morning. + +After breakfast they went whooping and prancing out on the bar, and +chased each other round and round, shedding clothes as they went, until +they were naked, and then continued the frolic far away up the shoal +water of the bar, against the stiff current, which latter tripped their +legs from under them from time to time and greatly increased the fun. +And now and then they stooped in a group and splashed water in each +other's faces with their palms, gradually approaching each other, with +averted faces to avoid the strangling sprays, and finally gripping and +struggling till the best man ducked his neighbor, and then they all +went under in a tangle of white legs and arms and came up blowing, +sputtering, laughing, and gasping for breath at one and the same time. + +When they were well exhausted, they would run out and sprawl on the dry, +hot sand, and lie there and cover themselves up with it, and by and by +break for the water again and go through the original performance once +more. Finally it occurred to them that their naked skin represented +flesh-colored "tights" very fairly; so they drew a ring in the sand and +had a circus--with three clowns in it, for none would yield this proudest +post to his neighbor. + +Next they got their marbles and played "knucks" and "ringtaw" and +"keeps" till that amusement grew stale. Then Joe and Huck had another +swim, but Tom would not venture, because he found that in kicking off +his trousers he had kicked his string of rattlesnake rattles off his +ankle, and he wondered how he had escaped cramp so long without the +protection of this mysterious charm. He did not venture again until he +had found it, and by that time the other boys were tired and ready to +rest. They gradually wandered apart, dropped into the "dumps," and +fell to gazing longingly across the wide river to where the village lay +drowsing in the sun. Tom found himself writing "BECKY" in the sand with +his big toe; he scratched it out, and was angry with himself for his +weakness. But he wrote it again, nevertheless; he could not help it. He +erased it once more and then took himself out of temptation by driving +the other boys together and joining them. + +But Joe's spirits had gone down almost beyond resurrection. He was so +homesick that he could hardly endure the misery of it. The tears lay +very near the surface. Huck was melancholy, too. Tom was downhearted, +but tried hard not to show it. He had a secret which he was not ready +to tell, yet, but if this mutinous depression was not broken up soon, he +would have to bring it out. He said, with a great show of cheerfulness: + +"I bet there's been pirates on this island before, boys. We'll explore +it again. They've hid treasures here somewhere. How'd you feel to light +on a rotten chest full of gold and silver--hey?" + +But it roused only faint enthusiasm, which faded out, with no reply. +Tom tried one or two other seductions; but they failed, too. It was +discouraging work. Joe sat poking up the sand with a stick and looking +very gloomy. Finally he said: + +"Oh, boys, let's give it up. I want to go home. It's so lonesome." + +"Oh no, Joe, you'll feel better by and by," said Tom. "Just think of the +fishing that's here." + +"I don't care for fishing. I want to go home." + +"But, Joe, there ain't such another swimming-place anywhere." + +"Swimming's no good. I don't seem to care for it, somehow, when there +ain't anybody to say I sha'n't go in. I mean to go home." + +"Oh, shucks! Baby! You want to see your mother, I reckon." + +"Yes, I _do_ want to see my mother--and you would, too, if you had one. I +ain't any more baby than you are." And Joe snuffled a little. + +"Well, we'll let the crybaby go home to his mother, won't we, Huck? Poor +thing--does it want to see its mother? And so it shall. You like it here, +don't you, Huck? We'll stay, won't we?" + +Huck said, "Y-e-s"--without any heart in it. + +"I'll never speak to you again as long as I live," said Joe, rising. +"There now!" And he moved moodily away and began to dress himself. + +"Who cares!" said Tom. "Nobody wants you to. Go 'long home and get +laughed at. Oh, you're a nice pirate. Huck and me ain't crybabies. We'll +stay, won't we, Huck? Let him go if he wants to. I reckon we can get +along without him, per'aps." + +But Tom was uneasy, nevertheless, and was alarmed to see Joe go sullenly +on with his dressing. And then it was discomforting to see Huck eying +Joe's preparations so wistfully, and keeping up such an ominous silence. +Presently, without a parting word, Joe began to wade off toward the +Illinois shore. Tom's heart began to sink. He glanced at Huck. Huck +could not bear the look, and dropped his eyes. Then he said: + +"I want to go, too, Tom. It was getting so lonesome anyway, and now +it'll be worse. Let's us go, too, Tom." + +"I won't! You can all go, if you want to. I mean to stay." + +"Tom, I better go." + +"Well, go 'long--who's hendering you." + +Huck began to pick up his scattered clothes. He said: + +"Tom, I wisht you'd come, too. Now you think it over. We'll wait for you +when we get to shore." + +"Well, you'll wait a blame long time, that's all." + +Huck started sorrowfully away, and Tom stood looking after him, with a +strong desire tugging at his heart to yield his pride and go along +too. He hoped the boys would stop, but they still waded slowly on. It +suddenly dawned on Tom that it was become very lonely and still. He made +one final struggle with his pride, and then darted after his comrades, +yelling: + +"Wait! Wait! I want to tell you something!" + +They presently stopped and turned around. When he got to where they +were, he began unfolding his secret, and they listened moodily till +at last they saw the "point" he was driving at, and then they set up a +warwhoop of applause and said it was "splendid!" and said if he had +told them at first, they wouldn't have started away. He made a plausible +excuse; but his real reason had been the fear that not even the secret +would keep them with him any very great length of time, and so he had +meant to hold it in reserve as a last seduction. + +The lads came gayly back and went at their sports again with a will, +chattering all the time about Tom's stupendous plan and admiring the +genius of it. After a dainty egg and fish dinner, Tom said he wanted to +learn to smoke, now. Joe caught at the idea and said he would like to +try, too. So Huck made pipes and filled them. These novices had never +smoked anything before but cigars made of grapevine, and they "bit" the +tongue, and were not considered manly anyway. + +Now they stretched themselves out on their elbows and began to puff, +charily, and with slender confidence. The smoke had an unpleasant taste, +and they gagged a little, but Tom said: + +"Why, it's just as easy! If I'd a knowed this was all, I'd a learnt long +ago." + +"So would I," said Joe. "It's just nothing." + +"Why, many a time I've looked at people smoking, and thought well I wish +I could do that; but I never thought I could," said Tom. + +"That's just the way with me, hain't it, Huck? You've heard me talk just +that way--haven't you, Huck? I'll leave it to Huck if I haven't." + +"Yes--heaps of times," said Huck. + +"Well, I have too," said Tom; "oh, hundreds of times. Once down by the +slaughter-house. Don't you remember, Huck? Bob Tanner was there, and +Johnny Miller, and Jeff Thatcher, when I said it. Don't you remember, +Huck, 'bout me saying that?" + +"Yes, that's so," said Huck. "That was the day after I lost a white +alley. No, 'twas the day before." + +"There--I told you so," said Tom. "Huck recollects it." + +"I bleeve I could smoke this pipe all day," said Joe. "I don't feel +sick." + +"Neither do I," said Tom. "I could smoke it all day. But I bet you Jeff +Thatcher couldn't." + +"Jeff Thatcher! Why, he'd keel over just with two draws. Just let him +try it once. _He'd_ see!" + +"I bet he would. And Johnny Miller--I wish could see Johnny Miller tackle +it once." + +"Oh, don't I!" said Joe. "Why, I bet you Johnny Miller couldn't any more +do this than nothing. Just one little snifter would fetch _him_." + +"'Deed it would, Joe. Say--I wish the boys could see us now." + +"So do I." + +"Say--boys, don't say anything about it, and some time when they're +around, I'll come up to you and say, 'Joe, got a pipe? I want a smoke.' +And you'll say, kind of careless like, as if it warn't anything, you'll +say, 'Yes, I got my _old_ pipe, and another one, but my tobacker ain't +very good.' And I'll say, 'Oh, that's all right, if it's _strong_ +enough.' And then you'll out with the pipes, and we'll light up just as +ca'm, and then just see 'em look!" + +"By jings, that'll be gay, Tom! I wish it was _now_!" + +"So do I! And when we tell 'em we learned when we was off pirating, +won't they wish they'd been along?" + +"Oh, I reckon not! I'll just _bet_ they will!" + +So the talk ran on. But presently it began to flag a trifle, and +grow disjointed. The silences widened; the expectoration marvellously +increased. Every pore inside the boys' cheeks became a spouting +fountain; they could scarcely bail out the cellars under their tongues +fast enough to prevent an inundation; little overflowings down their +throats occurred in spite of all they could do, and sudden retchings +followed every time. Both boys were looking very pale and miserable, +now. Joe's pipe dropped from his nerveless fingers. Tom's followed. Both +fountains were going furiously and both pumps bailing with might and +main. Joe said feebly: + +"I've lost my knife. I reckon I better go and find it." + +Tom said, with quivering lips and halting utterance: + +"I'll help you. You go over that way and I'll hunt around by the spring. +No, you needn't come, Huck--we can find it." + +So Huck sat down again, and waited an hour. Then he found it lonesome, +and went to find his comrades. They were wide apart in the woods, both +very pale, both fast asleep. But something informed him that if they had +had any trouble they had got rid of it. + +They were not talkative at supper that night. They had a humble look, +and when Huck prepared his pipe after the meal and was going to prepare +theirs, they said no, they were not feeling very well--something they ate +at dinner had disagreed with them. + +About midnight Joe awoke, and called the boys. There was a brooding +oppressiveness in the air that seemed to bode something. The boys +huddled themselves together and sought the friendly companionship of +the fire, though the dull dead heat of the breathless atmosphere was +stifling. They sat still, intent and waiting. The solemn hush continued. +Beyond the light of the fire everything was swallowed up in the +blackness of darkness. Presently there came a quivering glow that +vaguely revealed the foliage for a moment and then vanished. By and by +another came, a little stronger. Then another. Then a faint moan came +sighing through the branches of the forest and the boys felt a fleeting +breath upon their cheeks, and shuddered with the fancy that the Spirit +of the Night had gone by. There was a pause. Now a weird flash turned +night into day and showed every little grassblade, separate and +distinct, that grew about their feet. And it showed three white, +startled faces, too. A deep peal of thunder went rolling and tumbling +down the heavens and lost itself in sullen rumblings in the distance. A +sweep of chilly air passed by, rustling all the leaves and snowing the +flaky ashes broadcast about the fire. Another fierce glare lit up the +forest and an instant crash followed that seemed to rend the treetops +right over the boys' heads. They clung together in terror, in the thick +gloom that followed. A few big raindrops fell pattering upon the leaves. + +"Quick! boys, go for the tent!" exclaimed Tom. + +They sprang away, stumbling over roots and among vines in the dark, no +two plunging in the same direction. A furious blast roared through +the trees, making everything sing as it went. One blinding flash after +another came, and peal on peal of deafening thunder. And now a drenching +rain poured down and the rising hurricane drove it in sheets along the +ground. The boys cried out to each other, but the roaring wind and the +booming thunderblasts drowned their voices utterly. However, one by one +they straggled in at last and took shelter under the tent, cold, scared, +and streaming with water; but to have company in misery seemed something +to be grateful for. They could not talk, the old sail flapped so +furiously, even if the other noises would have allowed them. The tempest +rose higher and higher, and presently the sail tore loose from its +fastenings and went winging away on the blast. The boys seized each +others' hands and fled, with many tumblings and bruises, to the shelter +of a great oak that stood upon the riverbank. Now the battle was at its +highest. Under the ceaseless conflagration of lightning that flamed +in the skies, everything below stood out in cleancut and shadowless +distinctness: the bending trees, the billowy river, white with foam, the +driving spray of spumeflakes, the dim outlines of the high bluffs on +the other side, glimpsed through the drifting cloudrack and the slanting +veil of rain. Every little while some giant tree yielded the fight +and fell crashing through the younger growth; and the unflagging +thunderpeals came now in ear-splitting explosive bursts, keen and sharp, +and unspeakably appalling. The storm culminated in one matchless effort +that seemed likely to tear the island to pieces, burn it up, drown it to +the treetops, blow it away, and deafen every creature in it, all at one +and the same moment. It was a wild night for homeless young heads to be +out in. + +But at last the battle was done, and the forces retired with weaker and +weaker threatenings and grumblings, and peace resumed her sway. The +boys went back to camp, a good deal awed; but they found there was still +something to be thankful for, because the great sycamore, the shelter +of their beds, was a ruin, now, blasted by the lightnings, and they were +not under it when the catastrophe happened. + +Everything in camp was drenched, the campfire as well; for they were but +heedless lads, like their generation, and had made no provision against +rain. Here was matter for dismay, for they were soaked through and +chilled. They were eloquent in their distress; but they presently +discovered that the fire had eaten so far up under the great log it had +been built against (where it curved upward and separated itself from +the ground), that a handbreadth or so of it had escaped wetting; so they +patiently wrought until, with shreds and bark gathered from the under +sides of sheltered logs, they coaxed the fire to burn again. Then they +piled on great dead boughs till they had a roaring furnace, and were +gladhearted once more. They dried their boiled ham and had a feast, +and after that they sat by the fire and expanded and glorified their +midnight adventure until morning, for there was not a dry spot to sleep +on, anywhere around. + +As the sun began to steal in upon the boys, drowsiness came over +them, and they went out on the sandbar and lay down to sleep. They got +scorched out by and by, and drearily set about getting breakfast. After +the meal they felt rusty, and stiff-jointed, and a little homesick once +more. Tom saw the signs, and fell to cheering up the pirates as well as +he could. But they cared nothing for marbles, or circus, or swimming, or +anything. He reminded them of the imposing secret, and raised a ray of +cheer. While it lasted, he got them interested in a new device. This was +to knock off being pirates, for a while, and be Indians for a change. +They were attracted by this idea; so it was not long before they were +stripped, and striped from head to heel with black mud, like so many +zebras--all of them chiefs, of course--and then they went tearing through +the woods to attack an English settlement. + +By and by they separated into three hostile tribes, and darted upon each +other from ambush with dreadful warwhoops, and killed and scalped each +other by thousands. It was a gory day. Consequently it was an extremely +satisfactory one. + +They assembled in camp toward suppertime, hungry and happy; but now +a difficulty arose--hostile Indians could not break the bread of +hospitality together without first making peace, and this was a simple +impossibility without smoking a pipe of peace. There was no other +process that ever they had heard of. Two of the savages almost wished +they had remained pirates. However, there was no other way; so with such +show of cheerfulness as they could muster they called for the pipe and +took their whiff as it passed, in due form. + +And behold, they were glad they had gone into savagery, for they had +gained something; they found that they could now smoke a little without +having to go and hunt for a lost knife; they did not get sick enough to +be seriously uncomfortable. They were not likely to fool away this high +promise for lack of effort. No, they practised cautiously, after supper, +with right fair success, and so they spent a jubilant evening. They were +prouder and happier in their new acquirement than they would have been +in the scalping and skinning of the Six Nations. We will leave them to +smoke and chatter and brag, since we have no further use for them at +present. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +BUT there was no hilarity in the little town that same tranquil Saturday +afternoon. The Harpers, and Aunt Polly's family, were being put into +mourning, with great grief and many tears. An unusual quiet possessed +the village, although it was ordinarily quiet enough, in all conscience. +The villagers conducted their concerns with an absent air, and talked +little; but they sighed often. The Saturday holiday seemed a burden to +the children. They had no heart in their sports, and gradually gave them +up. + +In the afternoon Becky Thatcher found herself moping about the deserted +schoolhouse yard, and feeling very melancholy. But she found nothing +there to comfort her. She soliloquized: + +"Oh, if I only had a brass andiron-knob again! But I haven't got +anything now to remember him by." And she choked back a little sob. + +Presently she stopped, and said to herself: + +"It was right here. Oh, if it was to do over again, I wouldn't say +that--I wouldn't say it for the whole world. But he's gone now; I'll +never, never, never see him any more." + +This thought broke her down, and she wandered away, with tears rolling +down her cheeks. Then quite a group of boys and girls--playmates of Tom's +and Joe's--came by, and stood looking over the paling fence and talking +in reverent tones of how Tom did so-and-so the last time they saw +him, and how Joe said this and that small trifle (pregnant with awful +prophecy, as they could easily see now!)--and each speaker pointed out +the exact spot where the lost lads stood at the time, and then added +something like "and I was a-standing just so--just as I am now, and as if +you was him--I was as close as that--and he smiled, just this way--and then +something seemed to go all over me, like--awful, you know--and I never +thought what it meant, of course, but I can see now!" + +Then there was a dispute about who saw the dead boys last in life, and +many claimed that dismal distinction, and offered evidences, more or +less tampered with by the witness; and when it was ultimately decided +who _did_ see the departed last, and exchanged the last words with them, +the lucky parties took upon themselves a sort of sacred importance, +and were gaped at and envied by all the rest. One poor chap, who had +no other grandeur to offer, said with tolerably manifest pride in the +remembrance: + +"Well, Tom Sawyer he licked me once." + +But that bid for glory was a failure. Most of the boys could say that, +and so that cheapened the distinction too much. The group loitered away, +still recalling memories of the lost heroes, in awed voices. + +When the Sunday-school hour was finished, the next morning, the bell +began to toll, instead of ringing in the usual way. It was a very still +Sabbath, and the mournful sound seemed in keeping with the musing hush +that lay upon nature. The villagers began to gather, loitering a moment +in the vestibule to converse in whispers about the sad event. But there +was no whispering in the house; only the funereal rustling of dresses +as the women gathered to their seats disturbed the silence there. None +could remember when the little church had been so full before. There +was finally a waiting pause, an expectant dumbness, and then Aunt Polly +entered, followed by Sid and Mary, and they by the Harper family, all in +deep black, and the whole congregation, the old minister as well, rose +reverently and stood until the mourners were seated in the front pew. +There was another communing silence, broken at intervals by muffled +sobs, and then the minister spread his hands abroad and prayed. A moving +hymn was sung, and the text followed: "I am the Resurrection and the +Life." + +As the service proceeded, the clergyman drew such pictures of the +graces, the winning ways, and the rare promise of the lost lads that +every soul there, thinking he recognized these pictures, felt a pang +in remembering that he had persistently blinded himself to them always +before, and had as persistently seen only faults and flaws in the poor +boys. The minister related many a touching incident in the lives of the +departed, too, which illustrated their sweet, generous natures, and the +people could easily see, now, how noble and beautiful those episodes +were, and remembered with grief that at the time they occurred they had +seemed rank rascalities, well deserving of the cowhide. The congregation +became more and more moved, as the pathetic tale went on, till at last +the whole company broke down and joined the weeping mourners in a chorus +of anguished sobs, the preacher himself giving way to his feelings, and +crying in the pulpit. + +There was a rustle in the gallery, which nobody noticed; a moment later +the church door creaked; the minister raised his streaming eyes above +his handkerchief, and stood transfixed! First one and then another pair +of eyes followed the minister's, and then almost with one impulse the +congregation rose and stared while the three dead boys came marching up +the aisle, Tom in the lead, Joe next, and Huck, a ruin of drooping rags, +sneaking sheepishly in the rear! They had been hid in the unused gallery +listening to their own funeral sermon! + +Aunt Polly, Mary, and the Harpers threw themselves upon their restored +ones, smothered them with kisses and poured out thanksgivings, while +poor Huck stood abashed and uncomfortable, not knowing exactly what +to do or where to hide from so many unwelcoming eyes. He wavered, and +started to slink away, but Tom seized him and said: + +"Aunt Polly, it ain't fair. Somebody's got to be glad to see Huck." + +"And so they shall. I'm glad to see him, poor motherless thing!" And +the loving attentions Aunt Polly lavished upon him were the one thing +capable of making him more uncomfortable than he was before. + +Suddenly the minister shouted at the top of his voice: "Praise God from +whom all blessings flow--_sing_!--and put your hearts in it!" + +And they did. Old Hundred swelled up with a triumphant burst, and +while it shook the rafters Tom Sawyer the Pirate looked around upon the +envying juveniles about him and confessed in his heart that this was the +proudest moment of his life. + +As the "sold" congregation trooped out they said they would almost be +willing to be made ridiculous again to hear Old Hundred sung like that +once more. + +Tom got more cuffs and kisses that day--according to Aunt Polly's varying +moods--than he had earned before in a year; and he hardly knew which +expressed the most gratefulness to God and affection for himself. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THAT was Tom's great secret--the scheme to return home with his brother +pirates and attend their own funerals. They had paddled over to the +Missouri shore on a log, at dusk on Saturday, landing five or six miles +below the village; they had slept in the woods at the edge of the town +till nearly daylight, and had then crept through back lanes and alleys +and finished their sleep in the gallery of the church among a chaos of +invalided benches. + +At breakfast, Monday morning, Aunt Polly and Mary were very loving to +Tom, and very attentive to his wants. There was an unusual amount of +talk. In the course of it Aunt Polly said: + +"Well, I don't say it wasn't a fine joke, Tom, to keep everybody +suffering 'most a week so you boys had a good time, but it is a pity you +could be so hard-hearted as to let me suffer so. If you could come over +on a log to go to your funeral, you could have come over and give me a +hint some way that you warn't dead, but only run off." + +"Yes, you could have done that, Tom," said Mary; "and I believe you +would if you had thought of it." + +"Would you, Tom?" said Aunt Polly, her face lighting wistfully. "Say, +now, would you, if you'd thought of it?" + +"I--well, I don't know. 'Twould 'a' spoiled everything." + +"Tom, I hoped you loved me that much," said Aunt Polly, with a grieved +tone that discomforted the boy. "It would have been something if you'd +cared enough to _think_ of it, even if you didn't _do_ it." + +"Now, auntie, that ain't any harm," pleaded Mary; "it's only Tom's giddy +way--he is always in such a rush that he never thinks of anything." + +"More's the pity. Sid would have thought. And Sid would have come and +_done_ it, too. Tom, you'll look back, some day, when it's too late, +and wish you'd cared a little more for me when it would have cost you so +little." + +"Now, auntie, you know I do care for you," said Tom. + +"I'd know it better if you acted more like it." + +"I wish now I'd thought," said Tom, with a repentant tone; "but I dreamt +about you, anyway. That's something, ain't it?" + +"It ain't much--a cat does that much--but it's better than nothing. What +did you dream?" + +"Why, Wednesday night I dreamt that you was sitting over there by the +bed, and Sid was sitting by the woodbox, and Mary next to him." + +"Well, so we did. So we always do. I'm glad your dreams could take even +that much trouble about us." + +"And I dreamt that Joe Harper's mother was here." + +"Why, she was here! Did you dream any more?" + +"Oh, lots. But it's so dim, now." + +"Well, try to recollect--can't you?" + +"Somehow it seems to me that the wind--the wind blowed the--the--" + +"Try harder, Tom! The wind did blow something. Come!" + +Tom pressed his fingers on his forehead an anxious minute, and then +said: + +"I've got it now! I've got it now! It blowed the candle!" + +"Mercy on us! Go on, Tom--go on!" + +"And it seems to me that you said, 'Why, I believe that that door--'" + +"Go _on_, Tom!" + +"Just let me study a moment--just a moment. Oh, yes--you said you believed +the door was open." + +"As I'm sitting here, I did! Didn't I, Mary! Go on!" + +"And then--and then--well I won't be certain, but it seems like as if you +made Sid go and--and--" + +"Well? Well? What did I make him do, Tom? What did I make him do?" + +"You made him--you--Oh, you made him shut it." + +"Well, for the land's sake! I never heard the beat of that in all my +days! Don't tell _me_ there ain't anything in dreams, any more. Sereny +Harper shall know of this before I'm an hour older. I'd like to see her +get around _this_ with her rubbage 'bout superstition. Go on, Tom!" + +"Oh, it's all getting just as bright as day, now. Next you said I warn't +_bad_, only mischeevous and harum-scarum, and not any more responsible +than--than--I think it was a colt, or something." + +"And so it was! Well, goodness gracious! Go on, Tom!" + +"And then you began to cry." + +"So I did. So I did. Not the first time, neither. And then--" + +"Then Mrs. Harper she began to cry, and said Joe was just the same, and +she wished she hadn't whipped him for taking cream when she'd throwed it +out her own self--" + +"Tom! The sperrit was upon you! You was a prophesying--that's what you +was doing! Land alive, go on, Tom!" + +"Then Sid he said--he said--" + +"I don't think I said anything," said Sid. + +"Yes you did, Sid," said Mary. + +"Shut your heads and let Tom go on! What did he say, Tom?" + +"He said--I _think_ he said he hoped I was better off where I was gone +to, but if I'd been better sometimes--" + +"_There_, d'you hear that! It was his very words!" + +"And you shut him up sharp." + +"I lay I did! There must 'a' been an angel there. There _was_ an angel +there, somewheres!" + +"And Mrs. Harper told about Joe scaring her with a firecracker, and you +told about Peter and the Pain-killer--" + +"Just as true as I live!" + +"And then there was a whole lot of talk 'bout dragging the river for us, +and 'bout having the funeral Sunday, and then you and old Miss Harper +hugged and cried, and she went." + +"It happened just so! It happened just so, as sure as I'm a-sitting in +these very tracks. Tom, you couldn't told it more like if you'd 'a' seen +it! And then what? Go on, Tom!" + +"Then I thought you prayed for me--and I could see you and hear every +word you said. And you went to bed, and I was so sorry that I took and +wrote on a piece of sycamore bark, 'We ain't dead--we are only off being +pirates,' and put it on the table by the candle; and then you looked +so good, laying there asleep, that I thought I went and leaned over and +kissed you on the lips." + +"Did you, Tom, _did_ you! I just forgive you everything for that!" And +she seized the boy in a crushing embrace that made him feel like the +guiltiest of villains. + +"It was very kind, even though it was only a--dream," Sid soliloquized +just audibly. + +"Shut up, Sid! A body does just the same in a dream as he'd do if he was +awake. Here's a big Milum apple I've been saving for you, Tom, if you +was ever found again--now go 'long to school. I'm thankful to the good +God and Father of us all I've got you back, that's long-suffering and +merciful to them that believe on Him and keep His word, though goodness +knows I'm unworthy of it, but if only the worthy ones got His blessings +and had His hand to help them over the rough places, there's few enough +would smile here or ever enter into His rest when the long night comes. +Go 'long Sid, Mary, Tom--take yourselves off--you've hendered me long +enough." + +The children left for school, and the old lady to call on Mrs. Harper +and vanquish her realism with Tom's marvellous dream. Sid had better +judgment than to utter the thought that was in his mind as he left the +house. It was this: "Pretty thin--as long a dream as that, without any +mistakes in it!" + +What a hero Tom was become, now! He did not go skipping and prancing, +but moved with a dignified swagger as became a pirate who felt that the +public eye was on him. And indeed it was; he tried not to seem to see +the looks or hear the remarks as he passed along, but they were food and +drink to him. Smaller boys than himself flocked at his heels, as proud +to be seen with him, and tolerated by him, as if he had been the drummer +at the head of a procession or the elephant leading a menagerie into +town. Boys of his own size pretended not to know he had been away at +all; but they were consuming with envy, nevertheless. They would have +given anything to have that swarthy sun-tanned skin of his, and his +glittering notoriety; and Tom would not have parted with either for a +circus. + +At school the children made so much of him and of Joe, and delivered +such eloquent admiration from their eyes, that the two heroes were +not long in becoming insufferably "stuck-up." They began to tell their +adventures to hungry listeners--but they only began; it was not a +thing likely to have an end, with imaginations like theirs to furnish +material. And finally, when they got out their pipes and went serenely +puffing around, the very summit of glory was reached. + +Tom decided that he could be independent of Becky Thatcher now. Glory +was sufficient. He would live for glory. Now that he was distinguished, +maybe she would be wanting to "make up." Well, let her--she should see +that he could be as indifferent as some other people. Presently she +arrived. Tom pretended not to see her. He moved away and joined a group +of boys and girls and began to talk. Soon he observed that she was +tripping gayly back and forth with flushed face and dancing eyes, +pretending to be busy chasing schoolmates, and screaming with laughter +when she made a capture; but he noticed that she always made her +captures in his vicinity, and that she seemed to cast a conscious eye +in his direction at such times, too. It gratified all the vicious vanity +that was in him; and so, instead of winning him, it only "set him up" +the more and made him the more diligent to avoid betraying that he +knew she was about. Presently she gave over skylarking, and moved +irresolutely about, sighing once or twice and glancing furtively and +wistfully toward Tom. Then she observed that now Tom was talking more +particularly to Amy Lawrence than to any one else. She felt a sharp pang +and grew disturbed and uneasy at once. She tried to go away, but her +feet were treacherous, and carried her to the group instead. She said to +a girl almost at Tom's elbow--with sham vivacity: + +"Why, Mary Austin! you bad girl, why didn't you come to Sunday-school?" + +"I did come--didn't you see me?" + +"Why, no! Did you? Where did you sit?" + +"I was in Miss Peters' class, where I always go. I saw _you_." + +"Did you? Why, it's funny I didn't see you. I wanted to tell you about +the picnic." + +"Oh, that's jolly. Who's going to give it?" + +"My ma's going to let me have one." + +"Oh, goody; I hope she'll let _me_ come." + +"Well, she will. The picnic's for me. She'll let anybody come that I +want, and I want you." + +"That's ever so nice. When is it going to be?" + +"By and by. Maybe about vacation." + +"Oh, won't it be fun! You going to have all the girls and boys?" + +"Yes, every one that's friends to me--or wants to be"; and she glanced +ever so furtively at Tom, but he talked right along to Amy Lawrence +about the terrible storm on the island, and how the lightning tore the +great sycamore tree "all to flinders" while he was "standing within +three feet of it." + +"Oh, may I come?" said Grace Miller. + +"Yes." + +"And me?" said Sally Rogers. + +"Yes." + +"And me, too?" said Susy Harper. "And Joe?" + +"Yes." + +And so on, with clapping of joyful hands till all the group had begged +for invitations but Tom and Amy. Then Tom turned coolly away, still +talking, and took Amy with him. Becky's lips trembled and the tears +came to her eyes; she hid these signs with a forced gayety and went on +chattering, but the life had gone out of the picnic, now, and out of +everything else; she got away as soon as she could and hid herself and +had what her sex call "a good cry." Then she sat moody, with wounded +pride, till the bell rang. She roused up, now, with a vindictive cast +in her eye, and gave her plaited tails a shake and said she knew what +_she'd_ do. + +At recess Tom continued his flirtation with Amy with jubilant +self-satisfaction. And he kept drifting about to find Becky and lacerate +her with the performance. At last he spied her, but there was a sudden +falling of his mercury. She was sitting cosily on a little bench behind +the schoolhouse looking at a picture-book with Alfred Temple--and so +absorbed were they, and their heads so close together over the book, +that they did not seem to be conscious of anything in the world besides. +Jealousy ran red-hot through Tom's veins. He began to hate himself for +throwing away the chance Becky had offered for a reconciliation. He +called himself a fool, and all the hard names he could think of. He +wanted to cry with vexation. Amy chatted happily along, as they walked, +for her heart was singing, but Tom's tongue had lost its function. He +did not hear what Amy was saying, and whenever she paused expectantly +he could only stammer an awkward assent, which was as often misplaced +as otherwise. He kept drifting to the rear of the schoolhouse, again and +again, to sear his eyeballs with the hateful spectacle there. He could +not help it. And it maddened him to see, as he thought he saw, that +Becky Thatcher never once suspected that he was even in the land of the +living. But she did see, nevertheless; and she knew she was winning her +fight, too, and was glad to see him suffer as she had suffered. + +Amy's happy prattle became intolerable. Tom hinted at things he had +to attend to; things that must be done; and time was fleeting. But in +vain--the girl chirped on. Tom thought, "Oh, hang her, ain't I ever going +to get rid of her?" At last he must be attending to those things--and she +said artlessly that she would be "around" when school let out. And he +hastened away, hating her for it. + +"Any other boy!" Tom thought, grating his teeth. "Any boy in the whole +town but that Saint Louis smarty that thinks he dresses so fine and is +aristocracy! Oh, all right, I licked you the first day you ever saw this +town, mister, and I'll lick you again! You just wait till I catch you +out! I'll just take and--" + +And he went through the motions of thrashing an imaginary boy--pummelling +the air, and kicking and gouging. "Oh, you do, do you? You holler +'nough, do you? Now, then, let that learn you!" And so the imaginary +flogging was finished to his satisfaction. + +Tom fled home at noon. His conscience could not endure any more of Amy's +grateful happiness, and his jealousy could bear no more of the other +distress. Becky resumed her picture inspections with Alfred, but as the +minutes dragged along and no Tom came to suffer, her triumph began to +cloud and she lost interest; gravity and absentmindedness followed, +and then melancholy; two or three times she pricked up her ear at +a footstep, but it was a false hope; no Tom came. At last she grew +entirely miserable and wished she hadn't carried it so far. When +poor Alfred, seeing that he was losing her, he did not know how, kept +exclaiming: "Oh, here's a jolly one! look at this!" she lost patience at +last, and said, "Oh, don't bother me! I don't care for them!" and burst +into tears, and got up and walked away. + +Alfred dropped alongside and was going to try to comfort her, but she +said: + +"Go away and leave me alone, can't you! I hate you!" + +So the boy halted, wondering what he could have done--for she had said +she would look at pictures all through the nooning--and she walked on, +crying. Then Alfred went musing into the deserted schoolhouse. He was +humiliated and angry. He easily guessed his way to the truth--the girl +had simply made a convenience of him to vent her spite upon Tom Sawyer. +He was far from hating Tom the less when this thought occurred to him. +He wished there was some way to get that boy into trouble without much +risk to himself. Tom's spelling-book fell under his eye. Here was his +opportunity. He gratefully opened to the lesson for the afternoon and +poured ink upon the page. + +Becky, glancing in at a window behind him at the moment, saw the act, +and moved on, without discovering herself. She started homeward, now, +intending to find Tom and tell him; Tom would be thankful and their +troubles would be healed. Before she was half way home, however, she +had changed her mind. The thought of Tom's treatment of her when she was +talking about her picnic came scorching back and filled her with shame. +She resolved to let him get whipped on the damaged spelling-book's +account, and to hate him forever, into the bargain. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +TOM arrived at home in a dreary mood, and the first thing his aunt said +to him showed him that he had brought his sorrows to an unpromising +market: + +"Tom, I've a notion to skin you alive!" + +"Auntie, what have I done?" + +"Well, you've done enough. Here I go over to Sereny Harper, like an old +softy, expecting I'm going to make her believe all that rubbage about +that dream, when lo and behold you she'd found out from Joe that you was +over here and heard all the talk we had that night. Tom, I don't know +what is to become of a boy that will act like that. It makes me feel so +bad to think you could let me go to Sereny Harper and make such a fool +of myself and never say a word." + +This was a new aspect of the thing. His smartness of the morning had +seemed to Tom a good joke before, and very ingenious. It merely looked +mean and shabby now. He hung his head and could not think of anything to +say for a moment. Then he said: + +"Auntie, I wish I hadn't done it--but I didn't think." + +"Oh, child, you never think. You never think of anything but your +own selfishness. You could think to come all the way over here from +Jackson's Island in the night to laugh at our troubles, and you could +think to fool me with a lie about a dream; but you couldn't ever think +to pity us and save us from sorrow." + +"Auntie, I know now it was mean, but I didn't mean to be mean. I didn't, +honest. And besides, I didn't come over here to laugh at you that +night." + +"What did you come for, then?" + +"It was to tell you not to be uneasy about us, because we hadn't got +drownded." + +"Tom, Tom, I would be the thankfullest soul in this world if I could +believe you ever had as good a thought as that, but you know you never +did--and I know it, Tom." + +"Indeed and 'deed I did, auntie--I wish I may never stir if I didn't." + +"Oh, Tom, don't lie--don't do it. It only makes things a hundred times +worse." + +"It ain't a lie, auntie; it's the truth. I wanted to keep you from +grieving--that was all that made me come." + +"I'd give the whole world to believe that--it would cover up a power +of sins, Tom. I'd 'most be glad you'd run off and acted so bad. But it +ain't reasonable; because, why didn't you tell me, child?" + +"Why, you see, when you got to talking about the funeral, I just got all +full of the idea of our coming and hiding in the church, and I couldn't +somehow bear to spoil it. So I just put the bark back in my pocket and +kept mum." + +"What bark?" + +"The bark I had wrote on to tell you we'd gone pirating. I wish, now, +you'd waked up when I kissed you--I do, honest." + +The hard lines in his aunt's face relaxed and a sudden tenderness dawned +in her eyes. + +"_Did_ you kiss me, Tom?" + +"Why, yes, I did." + +"Are you sure you did, Tom?" + +"Why, yes, I did, auntie--certain sure." + +"What did you kiss me for, Tom?" + +"Because I loved you so, and you laid there moaning and I was so sorry." + +The words sounded like truth. The old lady could not hide a tremor in +her voice when she said: + +"Kiss me again, Tom!--and be off with you to school, now, and don't +bother me any more." + +The moment he was gone, she ran to a closet and got out the ruin of a +jacket which Tom had gone pirating in. Then she stopped, with it in her +hand, and said to herself: + +"No, I don't dare. Poor boy, I reckon he's lied about it--but it's a +blessed, blessed lie, there's such a comfort come from it. I hope +the Lord--I _know_ the Lord will forgive him, because it was such +good-heartedness in him to tell it. But I don't want to find out it's a +lie. I won't look." + +She put the jacket away, and stood by musing a minute. Twice she put out +her hand to take the garment again, and twice she refrained. Once more +she ventured, and this time she fortified herself with the thought: +"It's a good lie--it's a good lie--I won't let it grieve me." So she +sought the jacket pocket. A moment later she was reading Tom's piece of +bark through flowing tears and saying: "I could forgive the boy, now, if +he'd committed a million sins!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THERE was something about Aunt Polly's manner, when she kissed Tom, that +swept away his low spirits and made him lighthearted and happy again. He +started to school and had the luck of coming upon Becky Thatcher at the +head of Meadow Lane. His mood always determined his manner. Without a +moment's hesitation he ran to her and said: + +"I acted mighty mean today, Becky, and I'm so sorry. I won't ever, ever +do that way again, as long as ever I live--please make up, won't you?" + +The girl stopped and looked him scornfully in the face: + +"I'll thank you to keep yourself _to_ yourself, Mr. Thomas Sawyer. I'll +never speak to you again." + +She tossed her head and passed on. Tom was so stunned that he had not +even presence of mind enough to say "Who cares, Miss Smarty?" until the +right time to say it had gone by. So he said nothing. But he was in a +fine rage, nevertheless. He moped into the schoolyard wishing she were +a boy, and imagining how he would trounce her if she were. He presently +encountered her and delivered a stinging remark as he passed. She hurled +one in return, and the angry breach was complete. It seemed to Becky, in +her hot resentment, that she could hardly wait for school to "take in," +she was so impatient to see Tom flogged for the injured spelling-book. +If she had had any lingering notion of exposing Alfred Temple, Tom's +offensive fling had driven it entirely away. + +Poor girl, she did not know how fast she was nearing trouble herself. +The master, Mr. Dobbins, had reached middle age with an unsatisfied +ambition. The darling of his desires was, to be a doctor, but +poverty had decreed that he should be nothing higher than a village +schoolmaster. Every day he took a mysterious book out of his desk and +absorbed himself in it at times when no classes were reciting. He kept +that book under lock and key. There was not an urchin in school but was +perishing to have a glimpse of it, but the chance never came. Every boy +and girl had a theory about the nature of that book; but no two theories +were alike, and there was no way of getting at the facts in the case. +Now, as Becky was passing by the desk, which stood near the door, she +noticed that the key was in the lock! It was a precious moment. She +glanced around; found herself alone, and the next instant she had the +book in her hands. The titlepage--Professor Somebody's _Anatomy_--carried +no information to her mind; so she began to turn the leaves. She came at +once upon a handsomely engraved and colored frontispiece--a human figure, +stark naked. At that moment a shadow fell on the page and Tom Sawyer +stepped in at the door and caught a glimpse of the picture. Becky +snatched at the book to close it, and had the hard luck to tear the +pictured page half down the middle. She thrust the volume into the desk, +turned the key, and burst out crying with shame and vexation. + +"Tom Sawyer, you are just as mean as you can be, to sneak up on a person +and look at what they're looking at." + +"How could I know you was looking at anything?" + +"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Tom Sawyer; you know you're +going to tell on me, and oh, what shall I do, what shall I do! I'll be +whipped, and I never was whipped in school." + +Then she stamped her little foot and said: + +"_Be_ so mean if you want to! I know something that's going to happen. +You just wait and you'll see! Hateful, hateful, hateful!"--and she flung +out of the house with a new explosion of crying. + +Tom stood still, rather flustered by this onslaught. Presently he said +to himself: + +"What a curious kind of a fool a girl is! Never been licked in +school! Shucks! What's a licking! That's just like a girl--they're so +thin-skinned and chicken-hearted. Well, of course I ain't going to tell +old Dobbins on this little fool, because there's other ways of getting +even on her, that ain't so mean; but what of it? Old Dobbins will ask +who it was tore his book. Nobody'll answer. Then he'll do just the way +he always does--ask first one and then t'other, and when he comes to the +right girl he'll know it, without any telling. Girls' faces always tell +on them. They ain't got any backbone. She'll get licked. Well, it's a +kind of a tight place for Becky Thatcher, because there ain't any way +out of it." Tom conned the thing a moment longer, and then added: "All +right, though; she'd like to see me in just such a fix--let her sweat it +out!" + +Tom joined the mob of skylarking scholars outside. In a few moments the +master arrived and school "took in." Tom did not feel a strong interest +in his studies. Every time he stole a glance at the girls' side of the +room Becky's face troubled him. Considering all things, he did not want +to pity her, and yet it was all he could do to help it. He could get +up no exultation that was really worthy the name. Presently the +spelling-book discovery was made, and Tom's mind was entirely full +of his own matters for a while after that. Becky roused up from her +lethargy of distress and showed good interest in the proceedings. She +did not expect that Tom could get out of his trouble by denying that he +spilt the ink on the book himself; and she was right. The denial only +seemed to make the thing worse for Tom. Becky supposed she would be glad +of that, and she tried to believe she was glad of it, but she found she +was not certain. When the worst came to the worst, she had an impulse +to get up and tell on Alfred Temple, but she made an effort and forced +herself to keep still--because, said she to herself, "he'll tell about me +tearing the picture sure. I wouldn't say a word, not to save his life!" + +Tom took his whipping and went back to his seat not at all +broken-hearted, for he thought it was possible that he had unknowingly +upset the ink on the spelling-book himself, in some skylarking bout--he +had denied it for form's sake and because it was custom, and had stuck +to the denial from principle. + +A whole hour drifted by, the master sat nodding in his throne, the air +was drowsy with the hum of study. By and by, Mr. Dobbins straightened +himself up, yawned, then unlocked his desk, and reached for his book, +but seemed undecided whether to take it out or leave it. Most of the +pupils glanced up languidly, but there were two among them that watched +his movements with intent eyes. Mr. Dobbins fingered his book absently +for a while, then took it out and settled himself in his chair to read! +Tom shot a glance at Becky. He had seen a hunted and helpless rabbit +look as she did, with a gun levelled at its head. Instantly he forgot +his quarrel with her. Quick--something must be done! done in a flash, +too! But the very imminence of the emergency paralyzed his invention. +Good!--he had an inspiration! He would run and snatch the book, spring +through the door and fly. But his resolution shook for one little +instant, and the chance was lost--the master opened the volume. If Tom +only had the wasted opportunity back again! Too late. There was no help +for Becky now, he said. The next moment the master faced the school. +Every eye sank under his gaze. There was that in it which smote even +the innocent with fear. There was silence while one might count ten--the +master was gathering his wrath. Then he spoke: "Who tore this book?" + +There was not a sound. One could have heard a pin drop. The stillness +continued; the master searched face after face for signs of guilt. + +"Benjamin Rogers, did you tear this book?" + +A denial. Another pause. + +"Joseph Harper, did you?" + +Another denial. Tom's uneasiness grew more and more intense under the +slow torture of these proceedings. The master scanned the ranks of +boys--considered a while, then turned to the girls: + +"Amy Lawrence?" + +A shake of the head. + +"Gracie Miller?" + +The same sign. + +"Susan Harper, did you do this?" + +Another negative. The next girl was Becky Thatcher. Tom was trembling +from head to foot with excitement and a sense of the hopelessness of the +situation. + +"Rebecca Thatcher" [Tom glanced at her face--it was white with +terror]--"did you tear--no, look me in the face" [her hands rose in +appeal]--"did you tear this book?" + +A thought shot like lightning through Tom's brain. He sprang to his feet +and shouted--"I done it!" + +The school stared in perplexity at this incredible folly. Tom stood a +moment, to gather his dismembered faculties; and when he stepped forward +to go to his punishment the surprise, the gratitude, the adoration that +shone upon him out of poor Becky's eyes seemed pay enough for a hundred +floggings. Inspired by the splendor of his own act, he took without +an outcry the most merciless flaying that even Mr. Dobbins had ever +administered; and also received with indifference the added cruelty of a +command to remain two hours after school should be dismissed--for he +knew who would wait for him outside till his captivity was done, and not +count the tedious time as loss, either. + +Tom went to bed that night planning vengeance against Alfred Temple; for +with shame and repentance Becky had told him all, not forgetting her own +treachery; but even the longing for vengeance had to give way, soon, to +pleasanter musings, and he fell asleep at last with Becky's latest words +lingering dreamily in his ear-- + +"Tom, how _could_ you be so noble!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +VACATION was approaching. The schoolmaster, always severe, grew severer +and more exacting than ever, for he wanted the school to make a good +showing on "Examination" day. His rod and his ferule were seldom idle +now--at least among the smaller pupils. Only the biggest boys, and young +ladies of eighteen and twenty, escaped lashing. Mr. Dobbins' lashings +were very vigorous ones, too; for although he carried, under his wig, a +perfectly bald and shiny head, he had only reached middle age, and there +was no sign of feebleness in his muscle. As the great day approached, +all the tyranny that was in him came to the surface; he seemed to take a +vindictive pleasure in punishing the least shortcomings. The consequence +was, that the smaller boys spent their days in terror and suffering and +their nights in plotting revenge. They threw away no opportunity to do +the master a mischief. But he kept ahead all the time. The retribution +that followed every vengeful success was so sweeping and majestic that +the boys always retired from the field badly worsted. At last they +conspired together and hit upon a plan that promised a dazzling victory. +They swore in the signpainter's boy, told him the scheme, and asked his +help. He had his own reasons for being delighted, for the master boarded +in his father's family and had given the boy ample cause to hate him. +The master's wife would go on a visit to the country in a few days, and +there would be nothing to interfere with the plan; the master always +prepared himself for great occasions by getting pretty well fuddled, and +the signpainter's boy said that when the dominie had reached the proper +condition on Examination Evening he would "manage the thing" while he +napped in his chair; then he would have him awakened at the right time +and hurried away to school. + +In the fulness of time the interesting occasion arrived. At eight in +the evening the schoolhouse was brilliantly lighted, and adorned with +wreaths and festoons of foliage and flowers. The master sat throned in +his great chair upon a raised platform, with his blackboard behind him. +He was looking tolerably mellow. Three rows of benches on each side and +six rows in front of him were occupied by the dignitaries of the town +and by the parents of the pupils. To his left, back of the rows of +citizens, was a spacious temporary platform upon which were seated the +scholars who were to take part in the exercises of the evening; rows of +small boys, washed and dressed to an intolerable state of discomfort; +rows of gawky big boys; snowbanks of girls and young ladies clad in +lawn and muslin and conspicuously conscious of their bare arms, their +grandmothers' ancient trinkets, their bits of pink and blue ribbon and +the flowers in their hair. All the rest of the house was filled with +non-participating scholars. + +The exercises began. A very little boy stood up and sheepishly recited, +"You'd scarce expect one of my age to speak in public on the stage," +etc.--accompanying himself with the painfully exact and spasmodic +gestures which a machine might have used--supposing the machine to be a +trifle out of order. But he got through safely, though cruelly scared, +and got a fine round of applause when he made his manufactured bow and +retired. + +A little shamefaced girl lisped, "Mary had a little lamb," etc., +performed a compassion-inspiring curtsy, got her meed of applause, and +sat down flushed and happy. + +Tom Sawyer stepped forward with conceited confidence and soared into +the unquenchable and indestructible "Give me liberty or give me death" +speech, with fine fury and frantic gesticulation, and broke down in the +middle of it. A ghastly stage-fright seized him, his legs quaked under +him and he was like to choke. True, he had the manifest sympathy of the +house but he had the house's silence, too, which was even worse than +its sympathy. The master frowned, and this completed the disaster. Tom +struggled awhile and then retired, utterly defeated. There was a weak +attempt at applause, but it died early. + +"The Boy Stood on the Burning Deck" followed; also "The Assyrian Came +Down," and other declamatory gems. Then there were reading exercises, +and a spelling fight. The meagre Latin class recited with honor. The +prime feature of the evening was in order, now--original "compositions" +by the young ladies. Each in her turn stepped forward to the edge of the +platform, cleared her throat, held up her manuscript (tied with dainty +ribbon), and proceeded to read, with labored attention to "expression" +and punctuation. The themes were the same that had been illuminated upon +similar occasions by their mothers before them, their grandmothers, +and doubtless all their ancestors in the female line clear back to the +Crusades. "Friendship" was one; "Memories of Other Days"; "Religion in +History"; "Dream Land"; "The Advantages of Culture"; "Forms of Political +Government Compared and Contrasted"; "Melancholy"; "Filial Love"; "Heart +Longings," etc., etc. + +A prevalent feature in these compositions was a nursed and petted +melancholy; another was a wasteful and opulent gush of "fine language"; +another was a tendency to lug in by the ears particularly prized words +and phrases until they were worn entirely out; and a peculiarity that +conspicuously marked and marred them was the inveterate and intolerable +sermon that wagged its crippled tail at the end of each and every one +of them. No matter what the subject might be, a brainracking effort was +made to squirm it into some aspect or other that the moral and religious +mind could contemplate with edification. The glaring insincerity of +these sermons was not sufficient to compass the banishment of the +fashion from the schools, and it is not sufficient today; it never will +be sufficient while the world stands, perhaps. There is no school in +all our land where the young ladies do not feel obliged to close their +compositions with a sermon; and you will find that the sermon of the +most frivolous and the least religious girl in the school is always +the longest and the most relentlessly pious. But enough of this. Homely +truth is unpalatable. + +Let us return to the "Examination." The first composition that was read +was one entitled "Is this, then, Life?" Perhaps the reader can endure an +extract from it: + +"In the common walks of life, with what delightful emotions does the +youthful mind look forward to some anticipated scene of festivity! +Imagination is busy sketching rose-tinted pictures of joy. In fancy, the +voluptuous votary of fashion sees herself amid the festive throng, 'the +observed of all observers.' Her graceful form, arrayed in snowy robes, +is whirling through the mazes of the joyous dance; her eye is brightest, +her step is lightest in the gay assembly. + +"In such delicious fancies time quickly glides by, and the welcome hour +arrives for her entrance into the Elysian world, of which she has +had such bright dreams. How fairy-like does everything appear to her +enchanted vision! Each new scene is more charming than the last. But +after a while she finds that beneath this goodly exterior, all is +vanity, the flattery which once charmed her soul, now grates harshly +upon her ear; the ballroom has lost its charms; and with wasted health +and imbittered heart, she turns away with the conviction that earthly +pleasures cannot satisfy the longings of the soul!" + +And so forth and so on. There was a buzz of gratification from time to +time during the reading, accompanied by whispered ejaculations of "How +sweet!" "How eloquent!" "So true!" etc., and after the thing had closed +with a peculiarly afflicting sermon the applause was enthusiastic. + +Then arose a slim, melancholy girl, whose face had the "interesting" +paleness that comes of pills and indigestion, and read a "poem." Two +stanzas of it will do: + +"A MISSOURI MAIDEN'S FAREWELL TO ALABAMA + +"Alabama, goodbye! I love thee well! But yet for a while do I leave thee +now! Sad, yes, sad thoughts of thee my heart doth swell, And burning +recollections throng my brow! For I have wandered through thy flowery +woods; Have roamed and read near Tallapoosa's stream; Have listened to +Tallassee's warring floods, And wooed on Coosa's side Aurora's beam. + +"Yet shame I not to bear an o'erfull heart, Nor blush to turn behind +my tearful eyes; 'Tis from no stranger land I now must part, 'Tis to no +strangers left I yield these sighs. Welcome and home were mine within +this State, Whose vales I leave--whose spires fade fast from me And cold +must be mine eyes, and heart, and tete, When, dear Alabama! they turn +cold on thee!" There were very few there who knew what "tete" meant, but +the poem was very satisfactory, nevertheless. + +Next appeared a dark-complexioned, black-eyed, black-haired young lady, +who paused an impressive moment, assumed a tragic expression, and began +to read in a measured, solemn tone: + +"A VISION + +"Dark and tempestuous was night. Around the throne on high not a single +star quivered; but the deep intonations of the heavy thunder constantly +vibrated upon the ear; whilst the terrific lightning revelled in angry +mood through the cloudy chambers of heaven, seeming to scorn the power +exerted over its terror by the illustrious Franklin! Even the boisterous +winds unanimously came forth from their mystic homes, and blustered +about as if to enhance by their aid the wildness of the scene. + +"At such a time, so dark, so dreary, for human sympathy my very spirit +sighed; but instead thereof, + +"'My dearest friend, my counsellor, my comforter and guide--My joy in +grief, my second bliss in joy,' came to my side. She moved like one of +those bright beings pictured in the sunny walks of fancy's Eden by +the romantic and young, a queen of beauty unadorned save by her own +transcendent loveliness. So soft was her step, it failed to make even a +sound, and but for the magical thrill imparted by her genial touch, +as other unobtrusive beauties, she would have glided away +unperceived--unsought. A strange sadness rested upon her features, like +icy tears upon the robe of December, as she pointed to the contending +elements without, and bade me contemplate the two beings presented." + +This nightmare occupied some ten pages of manuscript and wound up with a +sermon so destructive of all hope to non-Presbyterians that it took +the first prize. This composition was considered to be the very finest +effort of the evening. The mayor of the village, in delivering the prize +to the author of it, made a warm speech in which he said that it was by +far the most "eloquent" thing he had ever listened to, and that Daniel +Webster himself might well be proud of it. + +It may be remarked, in passing, that the number of compositions in which +the word "beauteous" was over-fondled, and human experience referred to +as "life's page," was up to the usual average. + +Now the master, mellow almost to the verge of geniality, put his chair +aside, turned his back to the audience, and began to draw a map of +America on the blackboard, to exercise the geography class upon. But he +made a sad business of it with his unsteady hand, and a smothered titter +rippled over the house. He knew what the matter was, and set himself to +right it. He sponged out lines and remade them; but he only distorted +them more than ever, and the tittering was more pronounced. He threw his +entire attention upon his work, now, as if determined not to be put down +by the mirth. He felt that all eyes were fastened upon him; he imagined +he was succeeding, and yet the tittering continued; it even manifestly +increased. And well it might. There was a garret above, pierced with +a scuttle over his head; and down through this scuttle came a cat, +suspended around the haunches by a string; she had a rag tied about +her head and jaws to keep her from mewing; as she slowly descended she +curved upward and clawed at the string, she swung downward and clawed +at the intangible air. The tittering rose higher and higher--the cat was +within six inches of the absorbed teacher's head--down, down, a little +lower, and she grabbed his wig with her desperate claws, clung to it, +and was snatched up into the garret in an instant with her trophy still +in her possession! And how the light did blaze abroad from the master's +bald pate--for the signpainter's boy had _gilded_ it! + +That broke up the meeting. The boys were avenged. Vacation had come. + +NOTE:--The pretended "compositions" quoted in this chapter are taken +without alteration from a volume entitled "Prose and Poetry, by a +Western Lady"--but they are exactly and precisely after the schoolgirl +pattern, and hence are much happier than any mere imitations could be. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +TOM joined the new order of Cadets of Temperance, being attracted by the +showy character of their "regalia." He promised to abstain from smoking, +chewing, and profanity as long as he remained a member. Now he found out +a new thing--namely, that to promise not to do a thing is the surest way +in the world to make a body want to go and do that very thing. Tom soon +found himself tormented with a desire to drink and swear; the desire +grew to be so intense that nothing but the hope of a chance to display +himself in his red sash kept him from withdrawing from the order. Fourth +of July was coming; but he soon gave that up--gave it up before he had +worn his shackles over forty-eight hours--and fixed his hopes upon old +Judge Frazer, justice of the peace, who was apparently on his deathbed +and would have a big public funeral, since he was so high an official. +During three days Tom was deeply concerned about the Judge's condition +and hungry for news of it. Sometimes his hopes ran high--so high that +he would venture to get out his regalia and practise before the +looking-glass. But the Judge had a most discouraging way of fluctuating. +At last he was pronounced upon the mend--and then convalescent. Tom was +disgusted; and felt a sense of injury, too. He handed in his resignation +at once--and that night the Judge suffered a relapse and died. Tom +resolved that he would never trust a man like that again. + +The funeral was a fine thing. The Cadets paraded in a style calculated +to kill the late member with envy. Tom was a free boy again, +however--there was something in that. He could drink and swear, now--but +found to his surprise that he did not want to. The simple fact that he +could, took the desire away, and the charm of it. + +Tom presently wondered to find that his coveted vacation was beginning +to hang a little heavily on his hands. + +He attempted a diary--but nothing happened during three days, and so he +abandoned it. + +The first of all the negro minstrel shows came to town, and made a +sensation. Tom and Joe Harper got up a band of performers and were happy +for two days. + +Even the Glorious Fourth was in some sense a failure, for it rained +hard, there was no procession in consequence, and the greatest man +in the world (as Tom supposed), Mr. Benton, an actual United States +Senator, proved an overwhelming disappointment--for he was not +twenty-five feet high, nor even anywhere in the neighborhood of it. + +A circus came. The boys played circus for three days afterward in tents +made of rag carpeting--admission, three pins for boys, two for girls--and +then circusing was abandoned. + +A phrenologist and a mesmerizer came--and went again and left the village +duller and drearier than ever. + +There were some boys-and-girls' parties, but they were so few and so +delightful that they only made the aching voids between ache the harder. + +Becky Thatcher was gone to her Constantinople home to stay with her +parents during vacation--so there was no bright side to life anywhere. + +The dreadful secret of the murder was a chronic misery. It was a very +cancer for permanency and pain. + +Then came the measles. + +During two long weeks Tom lay a prisoner, dead to the world and its +happenings. He was very ill, he was interested in nothing. When he got +upon his feet at last and moved feebly downtown, a melancholy change had +come over everything and every creature. There had been a "revival," and +everybody had "got religion," not only the adults, but even the boys and +girls. Tom went about, hoping against hope for the sight of one blessed +sinful face, but disappointment crossed him everywhere. He found Joe +Harper studying a Testament, and turned sadly away from the depressing +spectacle. He sought Ben Rogers, and found him visiting the poor with a +basket of tracts. He hunted up Jim Hollis, who called his attention to +the precious blessing of his late measles as a warning. Every boy +he encountered added another ton to his depression; and when, in +desperation, he flew for refuge at last to the bosom of Huckleberry Finn +and was received with a Scriptural quotation, his heart broke and he +crept home and to bed realizing that he alone of all the town was lost, +forever and forever. + +And that night there came on a terrific storm, with driving rain, awful +claps of thunder and blinding sheets of lightning. He covered his head +with the bedclothes and waited in a horror of suspense for his doom; for +he had not the shadow of a doubt that all this hubbub was about him. +He believed he had taxed the forbearance of the powers above to the +extremity of endurance and that this was the result. It might have +seemed to him a waste of pomp and ammunition to kill a bug with a +battery of artillery, but there seemed nothing incongruous about the +getting up such an expensive thunderstorm as this to knock the turf from +under an insect like himself. + +By and by the tempest spent itself and died without accomplishing its +object. The boy's first impulse was to be grateful, and reform. His +second was to wait--for there might not be any more storms. + +The next day the doctors were back; Tom had relapsed. The three weeks he +spent on his back this time seemed an entire age. When he got abroad +at last he was hardly grateful that he had been spared, remembering how +lonely was his estate, how companionless and forlorn he was. He drifted +listlessly down the street and found Jim Hollis acting as judge in a +juvenile court that was trying a cat for murder, in the presence of her +victim, a bird. He found Joe Harper and Huck Finn up an alley eating a +stolen melon. Poor lads! they--like Tom--had suffered a relapse. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +AT last the sleepy atmosphere was stirred--and vigorously: the murder +trial came on in the court. It became the absorbing topic of village +talk immediately. Tom could not get away from it. Every reference to +the murder sent a shudder to his heart, for his troubled conscience +and fears almost persuaded him that these remarks were put forth in +his hearing as "feelers"; he did not see how he could be suspected of +knowing anything about the murder, but still he could not be comfortable +in the midst of this gossip. It kept him in a cold shiver all the time. +He took Huck to a lonely place to have a talk with him. It would be some +relief to unseal his tongue for a little while; to divide his burden of +distress with another sufferer. Moreover, he wanted to assure himself +that Huck had remained discreet. + +"Huck, have you ever told anybody about--that?" + +"'Bout what?" + +"You know what." + +"Oh--'course I haven't." + +"Never a word?" + +"Never a solitary word, so help me. What makes you ask?" + +"Well, I was afeard." + +"Why, Tom Sawyer, we wouldn't be alive two days if that got found out. +_You_ know that." + +Tom felt more comfortable. After a pause: + +"Huck, they couldn't anybody get you to tell, could they?" + +"Get me to tell? Why, if I wanted that halfbreed devil to drownd me they +could get me to tell. They ain't no different way." + +"Well, that's all right, then. I reckon we're safe as long as we keep +mum. But let's swear again, anyway. It's more surer." + +"I'm agreed." + +So they swore again with dread solemnities. + +"What is the talk around, Huck? I've heard a power of it." + +"Talk? Well, it's just Muff Potter, Muff Potter, Muff Potter all the +time. It keeps me in a sweat, constant, so's I want to hide som'ers." + +"That's just the same way they go on round me. I reckon he's a goner. +Don't you feel sorry for him, sometimes?" + +"Most always--most always. He ain't no account; but then he hain't ever +done anything to hurt anybody. Just fishes a little, to get money to +get drunk on--and loafs around considerable; but lord, we all do +that--leastways most of us--preachers and such like. But he's kind of +good--he give me half a fish, once, when there warn't enough for two; and +lots of times he's kind of stood by me when I was out of luck." + +"Well, he's mended kites for me, Huck, and knitted hooks on to my line. +I wish we could get him out of there." + +"My! we couldn't get him out, Tom. And besides, 'twouldn't do any good; +they'd ketch him again." + +"Yes--so they would. But I hate to hear 'em abuse him so like the dickens +when he never done--that." + +"I do too, Tom. Lord, I hear 'em say he's the bloodiest looking villain +in this country, and they wonder he wasn't ever hung before." + +"Yes, they talk like that, all the time. I've heard 'em say that if he +was to get free they'd lynch him." + +"And they'd do it, too." + +The boys had a long talk, but it brought them little comfort. As the +twilight drew on, they found themselves hanging about the neighborhood +of the little isolated jail, perhaps with an undefined hope that +something would happen that might clear away their difficulties. But +nothing happened; there seemed to be no angels or fairies interested in +this luckless captive. + +The boys did as they had often done before--went to the cell grating and +gave Potter some tobacco and matches. He was on the ground floor and +there were no guards. + +His gratitude for their gifts had always smote their consciences +before--it cut deeper than ever, this time. They felt cowardly and +treacherous to the last degree when Potter said: + +"You've been mighty good to me, boys--better'n anybody else in this town. +And I don't forget it, I don't. Often I says to myself, says I, 'I used +to mend all the boys' kites and things, and show 'em where the good +fishin' places was, and befriend 'em what I could, and now they've +all forgot old Muff when he's in trouble; but Tom don't, and Huck +don't--_they_ don't forget him, says I, 'and I don't forget them.' Well, +boys, I done an awful thing--drunk and crazy at the time--that's the only +way I account for it--and now I got to swing for it, and it's right. +Right, and _best_, too, I reckon--hope so, anyway. Well, we won't talk +about that. I don't want to make _you_ feel bad; you've befriended me. +But what I want to say, is, don't _you_ ever get drunk--then you won't +ever get here. Stand a litter furder west--so--that's it; it's a prime +comfort to see faces that's friendly when a body's in such a muck +of trouble, and there don't none come here but yourn. Good friendly +faces--good friendly faces. Git up on one another's backs and let me +touch 'em. That's it. Shake hands--yourn'll come through the bars, but +mine's too big. Little hands, and weak--but they've helped Muff Potter a +power, and they'd help him more if they could." + +Tom went home miserable, and his dreams that night were full of horrors. +The next day and the day after, he hung about the courtroom, drawn by an +almost irresistible impulse to go in, but forcing himself to stay out. +Huck was having the same experience. They studiously avoided each other. +Each wandered away, from time to time, but the same dismal fascination +always brought them back presently. Tom kept his ears open when idlers +sauntered out of the courtroom, but invariably heard distressing +news--the toils were closing more and more relentlessly around poor +Potter. At the end of the second day the village talk was to the effect +that Injun Joe's evidence stood firm and unshaken, and that there was +not the slightest question as to what the jury's verdict would be. + +Tom was out late, that night, and came to bed through the window. He +was in a tremendous state of excitement. It was hours before he got to +sleep. All the village flocked to the courthouse the next morning, for +this was to be the great day. Both sexes were about equally represented +in the packed audience. After a long wait the jury filed in and took +their places; shortly afterward, Potter, pale and haggard, timid and +hopeless, was brought in, with chains upon him, and seated where all +the curious eyes could stare at him; no less conspicuous was Injun Joe, +stolid as ever. There was another pause, and then the judge arrived and +the sheriff proclaimed the opening of the court. The usual whisperings +among the lawyers and gathering together of papers followed. These +details and accompanying delays worked up an atmosphere of preparation +that was as impressive as it was fascinating. + +Now a witness was called who testified that he found Muff Potter washing +in the brook, at an early hour of the morning that the murder was +discovered, and that he immediately sneaked away. After some further +questioning, counsel for the prosecution said: + +"Take the witness." + +The prisoner raised his eyes for a moment, but dropped them again when +his own counsel said: + +"I have no questions to ask him." + +The next witness proved the finding of the knife near the corpse. +Counsel for the prosecution said: + +"Take the witness." + +"I have no questions to ask him," Potter's lawyer replied. + +A third witness swore he had often seen the knife in Potter's +possession. + +"Take the witness." + +Counsel for Potter declined to question him. The faces of the audience +began to betray annoyance. Did this attorney mean to throw away his +client's life without an effort? + +Several witnesses deposed concerning Potter's guilty behavior when +brought to the scene of the murder. They were allowed to leave the stand +without being cross-questioned. + +Every detail of the damaging circumstances that occurred in the +graveyard upon that morning which all present remembered so well was +brought out by credible witnesses, but none of them were cross-examined +by Potter's lawyer. The perplexity and dissatisfaction of the house +expressed itself in murmurs and provoked a reproof from the bench. +Counsel for the prosecution now said: + +"By the oaths of citizens whose simple word is above suspicion, we have +fastened this awful crime, beyond all possibility of question, upon the +unhappy prisoner at the bar. We rest our case here." + +A groan escaped from poor Potter, and he put his face in his hands and +rocked his body softly to and fro, while a painful silence reigned +in the courtroom. Many men were moved, and many women's compassion +testified itself in tears. Counsel for the defence rose and said: + +"Your honor, in our remarks at the opening of this trial, we +foreshadowed our purpose to prove that our client did this fearful deed +while under the influence of a blind and irresponsible delirium produced +by drink. We have changed our mind. We shall not offer that plea." [Then +to the clerk:] "Call Thomas Sawyer!" + +A puzzled amazement awoke in every face in the house, not even excepting +Potter's. Every eye fastened itself with wondering interest upon Tom as +he rose and took his place upon the stand. The boy looked wild enough, +for he was badly scared. The oath was administered. + +"Thomas Sawyer, where were you on the seventeenth of June, about the +hour of midnight?" + +Tom glanced at Injun Joe's iron face and his tongue failed him. The +audience listened breathless, but the words refused to come. After a few +moments, however, the boy got a little of his strength back, and managed +to put enough of it into his voice to make part of the house hear: + +"In the graveyard!" + +"A little bit louder, please. Don't be afraid. You were--" + +"In the graveyard." + +A contemptuous smile flitted across Injun Joe's face. + +"Were you anywhere near Horse Williams' grave?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Speak up--just a trifle louder. How near were you?" + +"Near as I am to you." + +"Were you hidden, or not?" + +"I was hid." + +"Where?" + +"Behind the elms that's on the edge of the grave." + +Injun Joe gave a barely perceptible start. + +"Any one with you?" + +"Yes, sir. I went there with--" + +"Wait--wait a moment. Never mind mentioning your companion's name. We +will produce him at the proper time. Did you carry anything there with +you." + +Tom hesitated and looked confused. + +"Speak out, my boy--don't be diffident. The truth is always respectable. +What did you take there?" + +"Only a--a--dead cat." + +There was a ripple of mirth, which the court checked. + +"We will produce the skeleton of that cat. Now, my boy, tell us +everything that occurred--tell it in your own way--don't skip anything, +and don't be afraid." + +Tom began--hesitatingly at first, but as he warmed to his subject his +words flowed more and more easily; in a little while every sound ceased +but his own voice; every eye fixed itself upon him; with parted lips and +bated breath the audience hung upon his words, taking no note of time, +rapt in the ghastly fascinations of the tale. The strain upon pent +emotion reached its climax when the boy said: + +"--and as the doctor fetched the board around and Muff Potter fell, Injun +Joe jumped with the knife and--" + +Crash! Quick as lightning the halfbreed sprang for a window, tore his +way through all opposers, and was gone! + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +TOM was a glittering hero once more--the pet of the old, the envy of the +young. His name even went into immortal print, for the village paper +magnified him. There were some that believed he would be President, yet, +if he escaped hanging. + +As usual, the fickle, unreasoning world took Muff Potter to its bosom +and fondled him as lavishly as it had abused him before. But that sort +of conduct is to the world's credit; therefore it is not well to find +fault with it. + +Tom's days were days of splendor and exultation to him, but his nights +were seasons of horror. Injun Joe infested all his dreams, and always +with doom in his eye. Hardly any temptation could persuade the boy +to stir abroad after nightfall. Poor Huck was in the same state of +wretchedness and terror, for Tom had told the whole story to the lawyer +the night before the great day of the trial, and Huck was sore afraid +that his share in the business might leak out, yet, notwithstanding +Injun Joe's flight had saved him the suffering of testifying in court. +The poor fellow had got the attorney to promise secrecy, but what of +that? Since Tom's harassed conscience had managed to drive him to the +lawyer's house by night and wring a dread tale from lips that had +been sealed with the dismalest and most formidable of oaths, Huck's +confidence in the human race was wellnigh obliterated. + +Daily Muff Potter's gratitude made Tom glad he had spoken; but nightly +he wished he had sealed up his tongue. + +Half the time Tom was afraid Injun Joe would never be captured; the +other half he was afraid he would be. He felt sure he never could draw a +safe breath again until that man was dead and he had seen the corpse. + +Rewards had been offered, the country had been scoured, but no Injun +Joe was found. One of those omniscient and aweinspiring marvels, a +detective, came up from St. Louis, moused around, shook his head, looked +wise, and made that sort of astounding success which members of that +craft usually achieve. That is to say, he "found a clew." But you can't +hang a "clew" for murder, and so after that detective had got through +and gone home, Tom felt just as insecure as he was before. + +The slow days drifted on, and each left behind it a slightly lightened +weight of apprehension. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THERE comes a time in every rightly-constructed boy's life when he has +a raging desire to go somewhere and dig for hidden treasure. This desire +suddenly came upon Tom one day. He sallied out to find Joe Harper, +but failed of success. Next he sought Ben Rogers; he had gone fishing. +Presently he stumbled upon Huck Finn the Red-Handed. Huck would +answer. Tom took him to a private place and opened the matter to him +confidentially. Huck was willing. Huck was always willing to take a hand +in any enterprise that offered entertainment and required no capital, +for he had a troublesome superabundance of that sort of time which is +not money. "Where'll we dig?" said Huck. + +"Oh, most anywhere." + +"Why, is it hid all around?" + +"No, indeed it ain't. It's hid in mighty particular places, +Huck--sometimes on islands, sometimes in rotten chests under the end of +a limb of an old dead tree, just where the shadow falls at midnight; but +mostly under the floor in ha'nted houses." + +"Who hides it?" + +"Why, robbers, of course--who'd you reckon? Sunday-school +sup'rintendents?" + +"I don't know. If 'twas mine I wouldn't hide it; I'd spend it and have a +good time." + +"So would I. But robbers don't do that way. They always hide it and +leave it there." + +"Don't they come after it any more?" + +"No, they think they will, but they generally forget the marks, or else +they die. Anyway, it lays there a long time and gets rusty; and by and +by somebody finds an old yellow paper that tells how to find the marks--a +paper that's got to be ciphered over about a week because it's mostly +signs and hy'roglyphics." + +"Hyro--which?" + +"Hy'roglyphics--pictures and things, you know, that don't seem to mean +anything." + +"Have you got one of them papers, Tom?" + +"No." + +"Well then, how you going to find the marks?" + +"I don't want any marks. They always bury it under a ha'nted house or on +an island, or under a dead tree that's got one limb sticking out. Well, +we've tried Jackson's Island a little, and we can try it again some +time; and there's the old ha'nted house up the Still-House branch, and +there's lots of dead-limb trees--dead loads of 'em." + +"Is it under all of them?" + +"How you talk! No!" + +"Then how you going to know which one to go for?" + +"Go for all of 'em!" + +"Why, Tom, it'll take all summer." + +"Well, what of that? Suppose you find a brass pot with a hundred dollars +in it, all rusty and gray, or rotten chest full of di'monds. How's +that?" + +Huck's eyes glowed. + +"That's bully. Plenty bully enough for me. Just you gimme the hundred +dollars and I don't want no di'monds." + +"All right. But I bet you I ain't going to throw off on di'monds. Some +of 'em's worth twenty dollars apiece--there ain't any, hardly, but's +worth six bits or a dollar." + +"No! Is that so?" + +"Cert'nly--anybody'll tell you so. Hain't you ever seen one, Huck?" + +"Not as I remember." + +"Oh, kings have slathers of them." + +"Well, I don' know no kings, Tom." + +"I reckon you don't. But if you was to go to Europe you'd see a raft of +'em hopping around." + +"Do they hop?" + +"Hop?--your granny! No!" + +"Well, what did you say they did, for?" + +"Shucks, I only meant you'd _see_ 'em--not hopping, of course--what do +they want to hop for?--but I mean you'd just see 'em--scattered around, +you know, in a kind of a general way. Like that old humpbacked Richard." + +"Richard? What's his other name?" + +"He didn't have any other name. Kings don't have any but a given name." + +"No?" + +"But they don't." + +"Well, if they like it, Tom, all right; but I don't want to be a king +and have only just a given name, like a nigger. But say--where you going +to dig first?" + +"Well, I don't know. S'pose we tackle that old dead-limb tree on the +hill t'other side of Still-House branch?" + +"I'm agreed." + +So they got a crippled pick and a shovel, and set out on their +three-mile tramp. They arrived hot and panting, and threw themselves +down in the shade of a neighboring elm to rest and have a smoke. + +"I like this," said Tom. + +"So do I." + +"Say, Huck, if we find a treasure here, what you going to do with your +share?" + +"Well, I'll have pie and a glass of soda every day, and I'll go to every +circus that comes along. I bet I'll have a gay time." + +"Well, ain't you going to save any of it?" + +"Save it? What for?" + +"Why, so as to have something to live on, by and by." + +"Oh, that ain't any use. Pap would come back to thish-yer town some day +and get his claws on it if I didn't hurry up, and I tell you he'd clean +it out pretty quick. What you going to do with yourn, Tom?" + +"I'm going to buy a new drum, and a sure'nough sword, and a red necktie +and a bull pup, and get married." + +"Married!" + +"That's it." + +"Tom, you--why, you ain't in your right mind." + +"Wait--you'll see." + +"Well, that's the foolishest thing you could do. Look at pap and my +mother. Fight! Why, they used to fight all the time. I remember, mighty +well." + +"That ain't anything. The girl I'm going to marry won't fight." + +"Tom, I reckon they're all alike. They'll all comb a body. Now you +better think 'bout this awhile. I tell you you better. What's the name +of the gal?" + +"It ain't a gal at all--it's a girl." + +"It's all the same, I reckon; some says gal, some says girl--both's +right, like enough. Anyway, what's her name, Tom?" + +"I'll tell you some time--not now." + +"All right--that'll do. Only if you get married I'll be more lonesomer +than ever." + +"No you won't. You'll come and live with me. Now stir out of this and +we'll go to digging." + +They worked and sweated for half an hour. No result. They toiled another +halfhour. Still no result. Huck said: + +"Do they always bury it as deep as this?" + +"Sometimes--not always. Not generally. I reckon we haven't got the right +place." + +So they chose a new spot and began again. The labor dragged a little, +but still they made progress. They pegged away in silence for some time. +Finally Huck leaned on his shovel, swabbed the beaded drops from his +brow with his sleeve, and said: + +"Where you going to dig next, after we get this one?" + +"I reckon maybe we'll tackle the old tree that's over yonder on Cardiff +Hill back of the widow's." + +"I reckon that'll be a good one. But won't the widow take it away from +us, Tom? It's on her land." + +"_She_ take it away! Maybe she'd like to try it once. Whoever finds one +of these hid treasures, it belongs to him. It don't make any difference +whose land it's on." + +That was satisfactory. The work went on. By and by Huck said: + +"Blame it, we must be in the wrong place again. What do you think?" + +"It is mighty curious, Huck. I don't understand it. Sometimes witches +interfere. I reckon maybe that's what's the trouble now." + +"Shucks! Witches ain't got no power in the daytime." + +"Well, that's so. I didn't think of that. Oh, I know what the matter is! +What a blamed lot of fools we are! You got to find out where the shadow +of the limb falls at midnight, and that's where you dig!" + +"Then consound it, we've fooled away all this work for nothing. Now hang +it all, we got to come back in the night. It's an awful long way. Can +you get out?" + +"I bet I will. We've got to do it tonight, too, because if somebody sees +these holes they'll know in a minute what's here and they'll go for it." + +"Well, I'll come around and maow tonight." + +"All right. Let's hide the tools in the bushes." + +The boys were there that night, about the appointed time. They sat in +the shadow waiting. It was a lonely place, and an hour made solemn by +old traditions. Spirits whispered in the rustling leaves, ghosts lurked +in the murky nooks, the deep baying of a hound floated up out of the +distance, an owl answered with his sepulchral note. The boys were +subdued by these solemnities, and talked little. By and by they judged +that twelve had come; they marked where the shadow fell, and began to +dig. Their hopes commenced to rise. Their interest grew stronger, and +their industry kept pace with it. The hole deepened and still deepened, +but every time their hearts jumped to hear the pick strike upon +something, they only suffered a new disappointment. It was only a stone +or a chunk. At last Tom said: + +"It ain't any use, Huck, we're wrong again." + +"Well, but we _can't_ be wrong. We spotted the shadder to a dot." + +"I know it, but then there's another thing." + +"What's that?". + +"Why, we only guessed at the time. Like enough it was too late or too +early." + +Huck dropped his shovel. + +"That's it," said he. "That's the very trouble. We got to give this one +up. We can't ever tell the right time, and besides this kind of thing's +too awful, here this time of night with witches and ghosts a-fluttering +around so. I feel as if something's behind me all the time; and I'm +afeard to turn around, becuz maybe there's others in front a-waiting for +a chance. I been creeping all over, ever since I got here." + +"Well, I've been pretty much so, too, Huck. They most always put in a +dead man when they bury a treasure under a tree, to look out for it." + +"Lordy!" + +"Yes, they do. I've always heard that." + +"Tom, I don't like to fool around much where there's dead people. A +body's bound to get into trouble with 'em, sure." + +"I don't like to stir 'em up, either. S'pose this one here was to stick +his skull out and say something!" + +"Don't Tom! It's awful." + +"Well, it just is. Huck, I don't feel comfortable a bit." + +"Say, Tom, let's give this place up, and try somewheres else." + +"All right, I reckon we better." + +"What'll it be?" + +Tom considered awhile; and then said: + +"The ha'nted house. That's it!" + +"Blame it, I don't like ha'nted houses, Tom. Why, they're a dern sight +worse'n dead people. Dead people might talk, maybe, but they don't come +sliding around in a shroud, when you ain't noticing, and peep over your +shoulder all of a sudden and grit their teeth, the way a ghost does. I +couldn't stand such a thing as that, Tom--nobody could." + +"Yes, but, Huck, ghosts don't travel around only at night. They won't +hender us from digging there in the daytime." + +"Well, that's so. But you know mighty well people don't go about that +ha'nted house in the day nor the night." + +"Well, that's mostly because they don't like to go where a man's been +murdered, anyway--but nothing's ever been seen around that house except +in the night--just some blue lights slipping by the windows--no regular +ghosts." + +"Well, where you see one of them blue lights flickering around, Tom, +you can bet there's a ghost mighty close behind it. It stands to reason. +Becuz you know that they don't anybody but ghosts use 'em." + +"Yes, that's so. But anyway they don't come around in the daytime, so +what's the use of our being afeard?" + +"Well, all right. We'll tackle the ha'nted house if you say so--but I +reckon it's taking chances." + +They had started down the hill by this time. There in the middle of the +moonlit valley below them stood the "ha'nted" house, utterly isolated, +its fences gone long ago, rank weeds smothering the very doorsteps, the +chimney crumbled to ruin, the window-sashes vacant, a corner of the roof +caved in. The boys gazed awhile, half expecting to see a blue light flit +past a window; then talking in a low tone, as befitted the time and the +circumstances, they struck far off to the right, to give the haunted +house a wide berth, and took their way homeward through the woods that +adorned the rearward side of Cardiff Hill. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +ABOUT noon the next day the boys arrived at the dead tree; they had come +for their tools. Tom was impatient to go to the haunted house; Huck was +measurably so, also--but suddenly said: + +"Lookyhere, Tom, do you know what day it is?" + +Tom mentally ran over the days of the week, and then quickly lifted his +eyes with a startled look in them-- + +"My! I never once thought of it, Huck!" + +"Well, I didn't neither, but all at once it popped onto me that it was +Friday." + +"Blame it, a body can't be too careful, Huck. We might 'a' got into an +awful scrape, tackling such a thing on a Friday." + +"_Might_! Better say we _would_! There's some lucky days, maybe, but +Friday ain't." + +"Any fool knows that. I don't reckon _you_ was the first that found it +out, Huck." + +"Well, I never said I was, did I? And Friday ain't all, neither. I had a +rotten bad dream last night--dreampt about rats." + +"No! Sure sign of trouble. Did they fight?" + +"No." + +"Well, that's good, Huck. When they don't fight it's only a sign that +there's trouble around, you know. All we got to do is to look mighty +sharp and keep out of it. We'll drop this thing for today, and play. Do +you know Robin Hood, Huck?" + +"No. Who's Robin Hood?" + +"Why, he was one of the greatest men that was ever in England--and the +best. He was a robber." + +"Cracky, I wisht I was. Who did he rob?" + +"Only sheriffs and bishops and rich people and kings, and such like. But +he never bothered the poor. He loved 'em. He always divided up with 'em +perfectly square." + +"Well, he must 'a' been a brick." + +"I bet you he was, Huck. Oh, he was the noblest man that ever was. +They ain't any such men now, I can tell you. He could lick any man in +England, with one hand tied behind him; and he could take his yew bow +and plug a ten-cent piece every time, a mile and a half." + +"What's a _yew_ bow?" + +"I don't know. It's some kind of a bow, of course. And if he hit that +dime only on the edge he would set down and cry--and curse. But we'll +play Robin Hood--it's nobby fun. I'll learn you." + +"I'm agreed." + +So they played Robin Hood all the afternoon, now and then casting a +yearning eye down upon the haunted house and passing a remark about the +morrow's prospects and possibilities there. As the sun began to sink +into the west they took their way homeward athwart the long shadows +of the trees and soon were buried from sight in the forests of Cardiff +Hill. + +On Saturday, shortly after noon, the boys were at the dead tree again. +They had a smoke and a chat in the shade, and then dug a little in their +last hole, not with great hope, but merely because Tom said there were +so many cases where people had given up a treasure after getting down +within six inches of it, and then somebody else had come along and +turned it up with a single thrust of a shovel. The thing failed this +time, however, so the boys shouldered their tools and went away feeling +that they had not trifled with fortune, but had fulfilled all the +requirements that belong to the business of treasure-hunting. + +When they reached the haunted house there was something so weird and +grisly about the dead silence that reigned there under the baking sun, +and something so depressing about the loneliness and desolation of the +place, that they were afraid, for a moment, to venture in. Then they +crept to the door and took a trembling peep. They saw a weedgrown, +floorless room, unplastered, an ancient fireplace, vacant windows, +a ruinous staircase; and here, there, and everywhere hung ragged and +abandoned cobwebs. They presently entered, softly, with quickened +pulses, talking in whispers, ears alert to catch the slightest sound, +and muscles tense and ready for instant retreat. + +In a little while familiarity modified their fears and they gave the +place a critical and interested examination, rather admiring their own +boldness, and wondering at it, too. Next they wanted to look upstairs. +This was something like cutting off retreat, but they got to daring +each other, and of course there could be but one result--they threw their +tools into a corner and made the ascent. Up there were the same signs of +decay. In one corner they found a closet that promised mystery, but the +promise was a fraud--there was nothing in it. Their courage was up now +and well in hand. They were about to go down and begin work when-- + +"Sh!" said Tom. + +"What is it?" whispered Huck, blanching with fright. + +"Sh!... There!... Hear it?" + +"Yes!... Oh, my! Let's run!" + +"Keep still! Don't you budge! They're coming right toward the door." + +The boys stretched themselves upon the floor with their eyes to +knotholes in the planking, and lay waiting, in a misery of fear. + +"They've stopped.... No--coming.... Here they are. Don't whisper another +word, Huck. My goodness, I wish I was out of this!" + +Two men entered. Each boy said to himself: "There's the old deaf and +dumb Spaniard that's been about town once or twice lately--never saw +t'other man before." + +"T'other" was a ragged, unkempt creature, with nothing very pleasant +in his face. The Spaniard was wrapped in a serape; he had bushy white +whiskers; long white hair flowed from under his sombrero, and he wore +green goggles. When they came in, "t'other" was talking in a low voice; +they sat down on the ground, facing the door, with their backs to the +wall, and the speaker continued his remarks. His manner became less +guarded and his words more distinct as he proceeded: + +"No," said he, "I've thought it all over, and I don't like it. It's +dangerous." + +"Dangerous!" grunted the "deaf and dumb" Spaniard--to the vast surprise +of the boys. "Milksop!" + +This voice made the boys gasp and quake. It was Injun Joe's! There was +silence for some time. Then Joe said: + +"What's any more dangerous than that job up yonder--but nothing's come of +it." + +"That's different. Away up the river so, and not another house about. +'Twon't ever be known that we tried, anyway, long as we didn't succeed." + +"Well, what's more dangerous than coming here in the daytime!--anybody +would suspicion us that saw us." + +"I know that. But there warn't any other place as handy after that fool +of a job. I want to quit this shanty. I wanted to yesterday, only it +warn't any use trying to stir out of here, with those infernal boys +playing over there on the hill right in full view." + +"Those infernal boys" quaked again under the inspiration of this remark, +and thought how lucky it was that they had remembered it was Friday and +concluded to wait a day. They wished in their hearts they had waited a +year. + +The two men got out some food and made a luncheon. After a long and +thoughtful silence, Injun Joe said: + +"Look here, lad--you go back up the river where you belong. Wait there +till you hear from me. I'll take the chances on dropping into this town +just once more, for a look. We'll do that 'dangerous' job after I've +spied around a little and think things look well for it. Then for Texas! +We'll leg it together!" + +This was satisfactory. Both men presently fell to yawning, and Injun Joe +said: + +"I'm dead for sleep! It's your turn to watch." + +He curled down in the weeds and soon began to snore. His comrade stirred +him once or twice and he became quiet. Presently the watcher began to +nod; his head drooped lower and lower, both men began to snore now. + +The boys drew a long, grateful breath. Tom whispered: + +"Now's our chance--come!" + +Huck said: + +"I can't--I'd die if they was to wake." + +Tom urged--Huck held back. At last Tom rose slowly and softly, and +started alone. But the first step he made wrung such a hideous creak +from the crazy floor that he sank down almost dead with fright. He never +made a second attempt. The boys lay there counting the dragging moments +till it seemed to them that time must be done and eternity growing gray; +and then they were grateful to note that at last the sun was setting. + +Now one snore ceased. Injun Joe sat up, stared around--smiled grimly upon +his comrade, whose head was drooping upon his knees--stirred him up with +his foot and said: + +"Here! _You're_ a watchman, ain't you! All right, though--nothing's +happened." + +"My! have I been asleep?" + +"Oh, partly, partly. Nearly time for us to be moving, pard. What'll we +do with what little swag we've got left?" + +"I don't know--leave it here as we've always done, I reckon. No use to +take it away till we start south. Six hundred and fifty in silver's +something to carry." + +"Well--all right--it won't matter to come here once more." + +"No--but I'd say come in the night as we used to do--it's better." + +"Yes: but look here; it may be a good while before I get the right +chance at that job; accidents might happen; 'tain't in such a very good +place; we'll just regularly bury it--and bury it deep." + +"Good idea," said the comrade, who walked across the room, knelt down, +raised one of the rearward hearth-stones and took out a bag that jingled +pleasantly. He subtracted from it twenty or thirty dollars for himself +and as much for Injun Joe, and passed the bag to the latter, who was on +his knees in the corner, now, digging with his bowie-knife. + +The boys forgot all their fears, all their miseries in an instant. With +gloating eyes they watched every movement. Luck!--the splendor of it was +beyond all imagination! Six hundred dollars was money enough to make +half a dozen boys rich! Here was treasure-hunting under the happiest +auspices--there would not be any bothersome uncertainty as to where to +dig. They nudged each other every moment--eloquent nudges and easily +understood, for they simply meant--"Oh, but ain't you glad _now_ we're +here!" + +Joe's knife struck upon something. + +"Hello!" said he. + +"What is it?" said his comrade. + +"Half-rotten plank--no, it's a box, I believe. Here--bear a hand and we'll +see what it's here for. Never mind, I've broke a hole." + +He reached his hand in and drew it out-- + +"Man, it's money!" + +The two men examined the handful of coins. They were gold. The boys +above were as excited as themselves, and as delighted. + +Joe's comrade said: + +"We'll make quick work of this. There's an old rusty pick over amongst +the weeds in the corner the other side of the fireplace--I saw it a +minute ago." + +He ran and brought the boys' pick and shovel. Injun Joe took the +pick, looked it over critically, shook his head, muttered something to +himself, and then began to use it. The box was soon unearthed. It was +not very large; it was iron bound and had been very strong before the +slow years had injured it. The men contemplated the treasure awhile in +blissful silence. + +"Pard, there's thousands of dollars here," said Injun Joe. + +"'Twas always said that Murrel's gang used to be around here one +summer," the stranger observed. + +"I know it," said Injun Joe; "and this looks like it, I should say." + +"Now you won't need to do that job." + +The halfbreed frowned. Said he: + +"You don't know me. Least you don't know all about that thing. 'Tain't +robbery altogether--it's _revenge_!" and a wicked light flamed in his +eyes. "I'll need your help in it. When it's finished--then Texas. Go home +to your Nance and your kids, and stand by till you hear from me." + +"Well--if you say so; what'll we do with this--bury it again?" + +"Yes. [Ravishing delight overhead.] _No_! by the great Sachem, no! +[Profound distress overhead.] I'd nearly forgot. That pick had fresh +earth on it! [The boys were sick with terror in a moment.] What business +has a pick and a shovel here? What business with fresh earth on +them? Who brought them here--and where are they gone? Have you heard +anybody?--seen anybody? What! bury it again and leave them to come and +see the ground disturbed? Not exactly--not exactly. We'll take it to my +den." + +"Why, of course! Might have thought of that before. You mean Number +One?" + +"No--Number Two--under the cross. The other place is bad--too common." + +"All right. It's nearly dark enough to start." + +Injun Joe got up and went about from window to window cautiously peeping +out. Presently he said: + +"Who could have brought those tools here? Do you reckon they can be +upstairs?" + +The boys' breath forsook them. Injun Joe put his hand on his knife, +halted a moment, undecided, and then turned toward the stairway. The +boys thought of the closet, but their strength was gone. The steps came +creaking up the stairs--the intolerable distress of the situation woke +the stricken resolution of the lads--they were about to spring for the +closet, when there was a crash of rotten timbers and Injun Joe landed on +the ground amid the debris of the ruined stairway. He gathered himself +up cursing, and his comrade said: + +"Now what's the use of all that? If it's anybody, and they're up there, +let them _stay_ there--who cares? If they want to jump down, now, and get +into trouble, who objects? It will be dark in fifteen minutes--and then +let them follow us if they want to. I'm willing. In my opinion, whoever +hove those things in here caught a sight of us and took us for ghosts or +devils or something. I'll bet they're running yet." + +Joe grumbled awhile; then he agreed with his friend that what daylight +was left ought to be economized in getting things ready for leaving. +Shortly afterward they slipped out of the house in the deepening +twilight, and moved toward the river with their precious box. + +Tom and Huck rose up, weak but vastly relieved, and stared after them +through the chinks between the logs of the house. Follow? Not they. They +were content to reach ground again without broken necks, and take the +townward track over the hill. They did not talk much. They were too much +absorbed in hating themselves--hating the ill luck that made them take +the spade and the pick there. But for that, Injun Joe never would have +suspected. He would have hidden the silver with the gold to wait +there till his "revenge" was satisfied, and then he would have had the +misfortune to find that money turn up missing. Bitter, bitter luck that +the tools were ever brought there! + +They resolved to keep a lookout for that Spaniard when he should come to +town spying out for chances to do his revengeful job, and follow him to +"Number Two," wherever that might be. Then a ghastly thought occurred to +Tom. + +"Revenge? What if he means _us_, Huck!" + +"Oh, don't!" said Huck, nearly fainting. + +They talked it all over, and as they entered town they agreed to believe +that he might possibly mean somebody else--at least that he might at +least mean nobody but Tom, since only Tom had testified. + +Very, very small comfort it was to Tom to be alone in danger! Company +would be a palpable improvement, he thought. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE adventure of the day mightily tormented Tom's dreams that night. +Four times he had his hands on that rich treasure and four times +it wasted to nothingness in his fingers as sleep forsook him and +wakefulness brought back the hard reality of his misfortune. As he lay +in the early morning recalling the incidents of his great adventure, he +noticed that they seemed curiously subdued and far away--somewhat as if +they had happened in another world, or in a time long gone by. Then it +occurred to him that the great adventure itself must be a dream! There +was one very strong argument in favor of this idea--namely, that the +quantity of coin he had seen was too vast to be real. He had never seen +as much as fifty dollars in one mass before, and he was like all boys of +his age and station in life, in that he imagined that all references to +"hundreds" and "thousands" were mere fanciful forms of speech, and that +no such sums really existed in the world. He never had supposed for +a moment that so large a sum as a hundred dollars was to be found in +actual money in any one's possession. If his notions of hidden treasure +had been analyzed, they would have been found to consist of a handful of +real dimes and a bushel of vague, splendid, ungraspable dollars. + +But the incidents of his adventure grew sensibly sharper and clearer +under the attrition of thinking them over, and so he presently found +himself leaning to the impression that the thing might not have been a +dream, after all. This uncertainty must be swept away. He would snatch a +hurried breakfast and go and find Huck. Huck was sitting on the gunwale +of a flatboat, listlessly dangling his feet in the water and looking +very melancholy. Tom concluded to let Huck lead up to the subject. If +he did not do it, then the adventure would be proved to have been only a +dream. + +"Hello, Huck!" + +"Hello, yourself." + +Silence, for a minute. + +"Tom, if we'd 'a' left the blame tools at the dead tree, we'd 'a' got +the money. Oh, ain't it awful!" + +"'Tain't a dream, then, 'tain't a dream! Somehow I most wish it was. +Dog'd if I don't, Huck." + +"What ain't a dream?" + +"Oh, that thing yesterday. I been half thinking it was." + +"Dream! If them stairs hadn't broke down you'd 'a' seen how much dream +it was! I've had dreams enough all night--with that patch-eyed Spanish +devil going for me all through 'em--rot him!" + +"No, not rot him. _Find_ him! Track the money!" + +"Tom, we'll never find him. A feller don't have only one chance for such +a pile--and that one's lost. I'd feel mighty shaky if I was to see him, +anyway." + +"Well, so'd I; but I'd like to see him, anyway--and track him out--to his +Number Two." + +"Number Two--yes, that's it. I been thinking 'bout that. But I can't make +nothing out of it. What do you reckon it is?" + +"I dono. It's too deep. Say, Huck--maybe it's the number of a house!" + +"Goody!... No, Tom, that ain't it. If it is, it ain't in this one-horse +town. They ain't no numbers here." + +"Well, that's so. Lemme think a minute. Here--it's the number of a +room--in a tavern, you know!" + +"Oh, that's the trick! They ain't only two taverns. We can find out +quick." + +"You stay here, Huck, till I come." + +Tom was off at once. He did not care to have Huck's company in public +places. He was gone half an hour. He found that in the best tavern, No. +2 had long been occupied by a young lawyer, and was still so occupied. +In the less ostentatious house, No. 2 was a mystery. The tavern-keeper's +young son said it was kept locked all the time, and he never saw anybody +go into it or come out of it except at night; he did not know any +particular reason for this state of things; had had some little +curiosity, but it was rather feeble; had made the most of the mystery +by entertaining himself with the idea that that room was "ha'nted"; had +noticed that there was a light in there the night before. + +"That's what I've found out, Huck. I reckon that's the very No. 2 we're +after." + +"I reckon it is, Tom. Now what you going to do?" + +"Lemme think." + +Tom thought a long time. Then he said: + +"I'll tell you. The back door of that No. 2 is the door that comes out +into that little close alley between the tavern and the old rattle trap +of a brick store. Now you get hold of all the doorkeys you can find, and +I'll nip all of auntie's, and the first dark night we'll go there and +try 'em. And mind you, keep a lookout for Injun Joe, because he said he +was going to drop into town and spy around once more for a chance to get +his revenge. If you see him, you just follow him; and if he don't go to +that No. 2, that ain't the place." + +"Lordy, I don't want to foller him by myself!" + +"Why, it'll be night, sure. He mightn't ever see you--and if he did, +maybe he'd never think anything." + +"Well, if it's pretty dark I reckon I'll track him. I dono--I dono. I'll +try." + +"You bet I'll follow him, if it's dark, Huck. Why, he might 'a' found +out he couldn't get his revenge, and be going right after that money." + +"It's so, Tom, it's so. I'll foller him; I will, by jingoes!" + +"Now you're _talking_! Don't you ever weaken, Huck, and I won't." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THAT night Tom and Huck were ready for their adventure. They hung about +the neighborhood of the tavern until after nine, one watching the alley +at a distance and the other the tavern door. Nobody entered the alley or +left it; nobody resembling the Spaniard entered or left the tavern +door. The night promised to be a fair one; so Tom went home with the +understanding that if a considerable degree of darkness came on, Huck +was to come and "maow," whereupon he would slip out and try the keys. +But the night remained clear, and Huck closed his watch and retired to +bed in an empty sugar hogshead about twelve. + +Tuesday the boys had the same ill luck. Also Wednesday. But Thursday +night promised better. Tom slipped out in good season with his aunt's +old tin lantern, and a large towel to blindfold it with. He hid the +lantern in Huck's sugar hogshead and the watch began. An hour before +midnight the tavern closed up and its lights (the only ones thereabouts) +were put out. No Spaniard had been seen. Nobody had entered or left the +alley. Everything was auspicious. The blackness of darkness reigned, +the perfect stillness was interrupted only by occasional mutterings of +distant thunder. + +Tom got his lantern, lit it in the hogshead, wrapped it closely in the +towel, and the two adventurers crept in the gloom toward the tavern. +Huck stood sentry and Tom felt his way into the alley. Then there was +a season of waiting anxiety that weighed upon Huck's spirits like a +mountain. He began to wish he could see a flash from the lantern--it +would frighten him, but it would at least tell him that Tom was alive +yet. It seemed hours since Tom had disappeared. Surely he must have +fainted; maybe he was dead; maybe his heart had burst under terror and +excitement. In his uneasiness Huck found himself drawing closer +and closer to the alley; fearing all sorts of dreadful things, and +momentarily expecting some catastrophe to happen that would take away +his breath. There was not much to take away, for he seemed only able to +inhale it by thimblefuls, and his heart would soon wear itself out, the +way it was beating. Suddenly there was a flash of light and Tom came +tearing by him: "Run!" said he; "run, for your life!" + +He needn't have repeated it; once was enough; Huck was making thirty or +forty miles an hour before the repetition was uttered. The boys never +stopped till they reached the shed of a deserted slaughter-house at the +lower end of the village. Just as they got within its shelter the storm +burst and the rain poured down. As soon as Tom got his breath he said: + +"Huck, it was awful! I tried two of the keys, just as soft as I could; +but they seemed to make such a power of racket that I couldn't hardly +get my breath I was so scared. They wouldn't turn in the lock, either. +Well, without noticing what I was doing, I took hold of the knob, and +open comes the door! It warn't locked! I hopped in, and shook off the +towel, and, _Great Caesar's Ghost!_" + +"What!--what'd you see, Tom?" + +"Huck, I most stepped onto Injun Joe's hand!" + +"No!" + +"Yes! He was lying there, sound asleep on the floor, with his old patch +on his eye and his arms spread out." + +"Lordy, what did you do? Did he wake up?" + +"No, never budged. Drunk, I reckon. I just grabbed that towel and +started!" + +"I'd never 'a' thought of the towel, I bet!" + +"Well, I would. My aunt would make me mighty sick if I lost it." + +"Say, Tom, did you see that box?" + +"Huck, I didn't wait to look around. I didn't see the box, I didn't see +the cross. I didn't see anything but a bottle and a tin cup on the floor +by Injun Joe; yes, I saw two barrels and lots more bottles in the room. +Don't you see, now, what's the matter with that ha'nted room?" + +"How?" + +"Why, it's ha'nted with whiskey! Maybe _all_ the Temperance Taverns have +got a ha'nted room, hey, Huck?" + +"Well, I reckon maybe that's so. Who'd 'a' thought such a thing? But +say, Tom, now's a mighty good time to get that box, if Injun Joe's +drunk." + +"It is, that! You try it!" + +Huck shuddered. + +"Well, no--I reckon not." + +"And I reckon not, Huck. Only one bottle alongside of Injun Joe ain't +enough. If there'd been three, he'd be drunk enough and I'd do it." + +There was a long pause for reflection, and then Tom said: + +"Lookyhere, Huck, less not try that thing any more till we know Injun +Joe's not in there. It's too scary. Now, if we watch every night, we'll +be dead sure to see him go out, some time or other, and then we'll +snatch that box quicker'n lightning." + +"Well, I'm agreed. I'll watch the whole night long, and I'll do it every +night, too, if you'll do the other part of the job." + +"All right, I will. All you got to do is to trot up Hooper Street a +block and maow--and if I'm asleep, you throw some gravel at the window +and that'll fetch me." + +"Agreed, and good as wheat!" + +"Now, Huck, the storm's over, and I'll go home. It'll begin to be +daylight in a couple of hours. You go back and watch that long, will +you?" + +"I said I would, Tom, and I will. I'll ha'nt that tavern every night for +a year! I'll sleep all day and I'll stand watch all night." + +"That's all right. Now, where you going to sleep?" + +"In Ben Rogers' hayloft. He lets me, and so does his pap's nigger man, +Uncle Jake. I tote water for Uncle Jake whenever he wants me to, and any +time I ask him he gives me a little something to eat if he can spare it. +That's a mighty good nigger, Tom. He likes me, becuz I don't ever act as +if I was above him. Sometime I've set right down and eat _with_ him. But +you needn't tell that. A body's got to do things when he's awful hungry +he wouldn't want to do as a steady thing." + +"Well, if I don't want you in the daytime, I'll let you sleep. I won't +come bothering around. Any time you see something's up, in the night, +just skip right around and maow." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE first thing Tom heard on Friday morning was a glad piece of +news--Judge Thatcher's family had come back to town the night before. +Both Injun Joe and the treasure sunk into secondary importance for a +moment, and Becky took the chief place in the boy's interest. He saw her +and they had an exhausting good time playing "hispy" and "gully-keeper" +with a crowd of their schoolmates. The day was completed and crowned in +a peculiarly satisfactory way: Becky teased her mother to appoint +the next day for the long-promised and long-delayed picnic, and she +consented. The child's delight was boundless; and Tom's not more +moderate. The invitations were sent out before sunset, and straightway +the young folks of the village were thrown into a fever of preparation +and pleasurable anticipation. Tom's excitement enabled him to keep +awake until a pretty late hour, and he had good hopes of hearing Huck's +"maow," and of having his treasure to astonish Becky and the picnickers +with, next day; but he was disappointed. No signal came that night. + +Morning came, eventually, and by ten or eleven o'clock a giddy and +rollicking company were gathered at Judge Thatcher's, and everything was +ready for a start. It was not the custom for elderly people to mar the +picnics with their presence. The children were considered safe enough +under the wings of a few young ladies of eighteen and a few young +gentlemen of twenty-three or thereabouts. The old steam ferry-boat was +chartered for the occasion; presently the gay throng filed up the main +street laden with provision-baskets. Sid was sick and had to miss +the fun; Mary remained at home to entertain him. The last thing Mrs. +Thatcher said to Becky, was: + +"You'll not get back till late. Perhaps you'd better stay all night with +some of the girls that live near the ferry-landing, child." + +"Then I'll stay with Susy Harper, mamma." + +"Very well. And mind and behave yourself and don't be any trouble." + +Presently, as they tripped along, Tom said to Becky: + +"Say--I'll tell you what we'll do. 'Stead of going to Joe Harper's we'll +climb right up the hill and stop at the Widow Douglas'. She'll have +ice-cream! She has it most every day--dead loads of it. And she'll be +awful glad to have us." + +"Oh, that will be fun!" + +Then Becky reflected a moment and said: + +"But what will mamma say?" + +"How'll she ever know?" + +The girl turned the idea over in her mind, and said reluctantly: + +"I reckon it's wrong--but--" + +"But shucks! Your mother won't know, and so what's the harm? All she +wants is that you'll be safe; and I bet you she'd 'a' said go there if +she'd 'a' thought of it. I know she would!" + +The Widow Douglas' splendid hospitality was a tempting bait. It and +Tom's persuasions presently carried the day. So it was decided to say +nothing to anybody about the night's programme. Presently it occurred to +Tom that maybe Huck might come this very night and give the signal. The +thought took a deal of the spirit out of his anticipations. Still he +could not bear to give up the fun at Widow Douglas'. And why should he +give it up, he reasoned--the signal did not come the night before, so +why should it be any more likely to come tonight? The sure fun of the +evening outweighed the uncertain treasure; and, boy-like, he determined +to yield to the stronger inclination and not allow himself to think of +the box of money another time that day. + +Three miles below town the ferryboat stopped at the mouth of a woody +hollow and tied up. The crowd swarmed ashore and soon the forest +distances and craggy heights echoed far and near with shoutings and +laughter. All the different ways of getting hot and tired were gone +through with, and by-and-by the rovers straggled back to camp fortified +with responsible appetites, and then the destruction of the good things +began. After the feast there was a refreshing season of rest and chat in +the shade of spreading oaks. By-and-by somebody shouted: + +"Who's ready for the cave?" + +Everybody was. Bundles of candles were procured, and straightway there +was a general scamper up the hill. The mouth of the cave was up the +hillside--an opening shaped like a letter A. Its massive oaken door stood +unbarred. Within was a small chamber, chilly as an icehouse, and walled +by Nature with solid limestone that was dewy with a cold sweat. It was +romantic and mysterious to stand here in the deep gloom and look out +upon the green valley shining in the sun. But the impressiveness of the +situation quickly wore off, and the romping began again. The moment +a candle was lighted there was a general rush upon the owner of it; a +struggle and a gallant defence followed, but the candle was soon knocked +down or blown out, and then there was a glad clamor of laughter and a +new chase. But all things have an end. By-and-by the procession went +filing down the steep descent of the main avenue, the flickering rank of +lights dimly revealing the lofty walls of rock almost to their point of +junction sixty feet overhead. This main avenue was not more than +eight or ten feet wide. Every few steps other lofty and still narrower +crevices branched from it on either hand--for McDougal's cave was but a +vast labyrinth of crooked aisles that ran into each other and out again +and led nowhere. It was said that one might wander days and nights +together through its intricate tangle of rifts and chasms, and never +find the end of the cave; and that he might go down, and down, and +still down, into the earth, and it was just the same--labyrinth under +labyrinth, and no end to any of them. No man "knew" the cave. That was +an impossible thing. Most of the young men knew a portion of it, and it +was not customary to venture much beyond this known portion. Tom Sawyer +knew as much of the cave as any one. + +The procession moved along the main avenue some three-quarters of +a mile, and then groups and couples began to slip aside into branch +avenues, fly along the dismal corridors, and take each other by surprise +at points where the corridors joined again. Parties were able to elude +each other for the space of half an hour without going beyond the +"known" ground. + +By-and-by, one group after another came straggling back to the mouth +of the cave, panting, hilarious, smeared from head to foot with tallow +drippings, daubed with clay, and entirely delighted with the success of +the day. Then they were astonished to find that they had been taking +no note of time and that night was about at hand. The clanging bell had +been calling for half an hour. However, this sort of close to the day's +adventures was romantic and therefore satisfactory. When the ferryboat +with her wild freight pushed into the stream, nobody cared sixpence for +the wasted time but the captain of the craft. + +Huck was already upon his watch when the ferryboat's lights went +glinting past the wharf. He heard no noise on board, for the young +people were as subdued and still as people usually are who are nearly +tired to death. He wondered what boat it was, and why she did not +stop at the wharf--and then he dropped her out of his mind and put his +attention upon his business. The night was growing cloudy and dark. Ten +o'clock came, and the noise of vehicles ceased, scattered lights began +to wink out, all straggling foot-passengers disappeared, the village +betook itself to its slumbers and left the small watcher alone with the +silence and the ghosts. Eleven o'clock came, and the tavern lights were +put out; darkness everywhere, now. Huck waited what seemed a weary long +time, but nothing happened. His faith was weakening. Was there any use? +Was there really any use? Why not give it up and turn in? + +A noise fell upon his ear. He was all attention in an instant. The alley +door closed softly. He sprang to the corner of the brick store. The next +moment two men brushed by him, and one seemed to have something under +his arm. It must be that box! So they were going to remove the treasure. +Why call Tom now? It would be absurd--the men would get away with the box +and never be found again. No, he would stick to their wake and follow +them; he would trust to the darkness for security from discovery. So +communing with himself, Huck stepped out and glided along behind the +men, cat-like, with bare feet, allowing them to keep just far enough +ahead not to be invisible. + +They moved up the river street three blocks, then turned to the left up +a crossstreet. They went straight ahead, then, until they came to the +path that led up Cardiff Hill; this they took. They passed by the old +Welshman's house, halfway up the hill, without hesitating, and still +climbed upward. Good, thought Huck, they will bury it in the old quarry. +But they never stopped at the quarry. They passed on, up the summit. +They plunged into the narrow path between the tall sumach bushes, and +were at once hidden in the gloom. Huck closed up and shortened his +distance, now, for they would never be able to see him. He trotted along +awhile; then slackened his pace, fearing he was gaining too fast; moved +on a piece, then stopped altogether; listened; no sound; none, save that +he seemed to hear the beating of his own heart. The hooting of an +owl came over the hill--ominous sound! But no footsteps. Heavens, was +everything lost! He was about to spring with winged feet, when a man +cleared his throat not four feet from him! Huck's heart shot into his +throat, but he swallowed it again; and then he stood there shaking as +if a dozen agues had taken charge of him at once, and so weak that he +thought he must surely fall to the ground. He knew where he was. He +knew he was within five steps of the stile leading into Widow Douglas' +grounds. Very well, he thought, let them bury it there; it won't be hard +to find. + +Now there was a voice--a very low voice--Injun Joe's: + +"Damn her, maybe she's got company--there's lights, late as it is." + +"I can't see any." + +This was that stranger's voice--the stranger of the haunted house. A +deadly chill went to Huck's heart--this, then, was the "revenge" job! His +thought was, to fly. Then he remembered that the Widow Douglas had been +kind to him more than once, and maybe these men were going to murder +her. He wished he dared venture to warn her; but he knew he didn't +dare--they might come and catch him. He thought all this and more in +the moment that elapsed between the stranger's remark and Injun Joe's +next--which was-- + +"Because the bush is in your way. Now--this way--now you see, don't you?" + +"Yes. Well, there _is_ company there, I reckon. Better give it up." + +"Give it up, and I just leaving this country forever! Give it up and +maybe never have another chance. I tell you again, as I've told you +before, I don't care for her swag--you may have it. But her husband was +rough on me--many times he was rough on me--and mainly he was the justice +of the peace that jugged me for a vagrant. And that ain't all. It ain't +a millionth part of it! He had me _horsewhipped_!--horsewhipped in +front of the jail, like a nigger!--with all the town looking on! +_Horsewhipped_!--do you understand? He took advantage of me and died. But +I'll take it out of _her_." + +"Oh, don't kill her! Don't do that!" + +"Kill? Who said anything about killing? I would kill _him_ if he was +here; but not her. When you want to get revenge on a woman you don't +kill her--bosh! you go for her looks. You slit her nostrils--you notch her +ears like a sow!" + +"By God, that's--" + +"Keep your opinion to yourself! It will be safest for you. I'll tie her +to the bed. If she bleeds to death, is that my fault? I'll not cry, if +she does. My friend, you'll help me in this thing--for _my_ sake--that's +why you're here--I mightn't be able alone. If you flinch, I'll kill you. +Do you understand that? And if I have to kill you, I'll kill her--and +then I reckon nobody'll ever know much about who done this business." + +"Well, if it's got to be done, let's get at it. The quicker the +better--I'm all in a shiver." + +"Do it _now_? And company there? Look here--I'll get suspicious of you, +first thing you know. No--we'll wait till the lights are out--there's no +hurry." + +Huck felt that a silence was going to ensue--a thing still more awful +than any amount of murderous talk; so he held his breath and stepped +gingerly back; planted his foot carefully and firmly, after balancing, +one-legged, in a precarious way and almost toppling over, first on one +side and then on the other. He took another step back, with the same +elaboration and the same risks; then another and another, and--a twig +snapped under his foot! His breath stopped and he listened. There was no +sound--the stillness was perfect. His gratitude was measureless. Now he +turned in his tracks, between the walls of sumach bushes--turned +himself as carefully as if he were a ship--and then stepped quickly but +cautiously along. When he emerged at the quarry he felt secure, and +so he picked up his nimble heels and flew. Down, down he sped, till he +reached the Welshman's. He banged at the door, and presently the heads +of the old man and his two stalwart sons were thrust from windows. + +"What's the row there? Who's banging? What do you want?" + +"Let me in--quick! I'll tell everything." + +"Why, who are you?" + +"Huckleberry Finn--quick, let me in!" + +"Huckleberry Finn, indeed! It ain't a name to open many doors, I judge! +But let him in, lads, and let's see what's the trouble." + +"Please don't ever tell I told you," were Huck's first words when he got +in. "Please don't--I'd be killed, sure--but the widow's been good friends +to me sometimes, and I want to tell--I _will_ tell if you'll promise you +won't ever say it was me." + +"By George, he _has_ got something to tell, or he wouldn't act so!" +exclaimed the old man; "out with it and nobody here'll ever tell, lad." + +Three minutes later the old man and his sons, well armed, were up the +hill, and just entering the sumach path on tiptoe, their weapons in +their hands. Huck accompanied them no further. He hid behind a great +bowlder and fell to listening. There was a lagging, anxious silence, and +then all of a sudden there was an explosion of firearms and a cry. + +Huck waited for no particulars. He sprang away and sped down the hill as +fast as his legs could carry him. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +AS the earliest suspicion of dawn appeared on Sunday morning, Huck came +groping up the hill and rapped gently at the old Welshman's door. The +inmates were asleep, but it was a sleep that was set on a hair-trigger, +on account of the exciting episode of the night. A call came from a +window: + +"Who's there!" + +Huck's scared voice answered in a low tone: + +"Please let me in! It's only Huck Finn!" + +"It's a name that can open this door night or day, lad!--and welcome!" + +These were strange words to the vagabond boy's ears, and the pleasantest +he had ever heard. He could not recollect that the closing word had ever +been applied in his case before. The door was quickly unlocked, and he +entered. Huck was given a seat and the old man and his brace of tall +sons speedily dressed themselves. + +"Now, my boy, I hope you're good and hungry, because breakfast will be +ready as soon as the sun's up, and we'll have a piping hot one, too--make +yourself easy about that! I and the boys hoped you'd turn up and stop +here last night." + +"I was awful scared," said Huck, "and I run. I took out when the pistols +went off, and I didn't stop for three mile. I've come now becuz I wanted +to know about it, you know; and I come before daylight becuz I didn't +want to run across them devils, even if they was dead." + +"Well, poor chap, you do look as if you'd had a hard night of it--but +there's a bed here for you when you've had your breakfast. No, they +ain't dead, lad--we are sorry enough for that. You see we knew right +where to put our hands on them, by your description; so we crept along +on tiptoe till we got within fifteen feet of them--dark as a cellar that +sumach path was--and just then I found I was going to sneeze. It was the +meanest kind of luck! I tried to keep it back, but no use--'twas bound to +come, and it did come! I was in the lead with my pistol raised, and when +the sneeze started those scoundrels a-rustling to get out of the path, +I sung out, 'Fire boys!' and blazed away at the place where the rustling +was. So did the boys. But they were off in a jiffy, those villains, and +we after them, down through the woods. I judge we never touched them. +They fired a shot apiece as they started, but their bullets whizzed by +and didn't do us any harm. As soon as we lost the sound of their feet +we quit chasing, and went down and stirred up the constables. They got a +posse together, and went off to guard the river bank, and as soon as it +is light the sheriff and a gang are going to beat up the woods. My boys +will be with them presently. I wish we had some sort of description of +those rascals--'twould help a good deal. But you couldn't see what they +were like, in the dark, lad, I suppose?" + +"Oh yes; I saw them downtown and follered them." + +"Splendid! Describe them--describe them, my boy!" + +"One's the old deaf and dumb Spaniard that's ben around here once or +twice, and t'other's a mean-looking, ragged--" + +"That's enough, lad, we know the men! Happened on them in the woods back +of the widow's one day, and they slunk away. Off with you, boys, and +tell the sheriff--get your breakfast tomorrow morning!" + +The Welshman's sons departed at once. As they were leaving the room Huck +sprang up and exclaimed: + +"Oh, please don't tell _any_body it was me that blowed on them! Oh, +please!" + +"All right if you say it, Huck, but you ought to have the credit of what +you did." + +"Oh no, no! Please don't tell!" + +When the young men were gone, the old Welshman said: + +"They won't tell--and I won't. But why don't you want it known?" + +Huck would not explain, further than to say that he already knew too +much about one of those men and would not have the man know that he knew +anything against him for the whole world--he would be killed for knowing +it, sure. + +The old man promised secrecy once more, and said: + +"How did you come to follow these fellows, lad? Were they looking +suspicious?" + +Huck was silent while he framed a duly cautious reply. Then he said: + +"Well, you see, I'm a kind of a hard lot,--least everybody says so, and +I don't see nothing agin it--and sometimes I can't sleep much, on account +of thinking about it and sort of trying to strike out a new way of +doing. That was the way of it last night. I couldn't sleep, and so I +come along upstreet 'bout midnight, a-turning it all over, and when I +got to that old shackly brick store by the Temperance Tavern, I backed +up agin the wall to have another think. Well, just then along comes +these two chaps slipping along close by me, with something under their +arm, and I reckoned they'd stole it. One was a-smoking, and t'other one +wanted a light; so they stopped right before me and the cigars lit up +their faces and I see that the big one was the deaf and dumb Spaniard, +by his white whiskers and the patch on his eye, and t'other one was a +rusty, ragged-looking devil." + +"Could you see the rags by the light of the cigars?" + +This staggered Huck for a moment. Then he said: + +"Well, I don't know--but somehow it seems as if I did." + +"Then they went on, and you--" + +"Follered 'em--yes. That was it. I wanted to see what was up--they sneaked +along so. I dogged 'em to the widder's stile, and stood in the dark and +heard the ragged one beg for the widder, and the Spaniard swear he'd +spile her looks just as I told you and your two--" + +"What! The _deaf and dumb_ man said all that!" + +Huck had made another terrible mistake! He was trying his best to keep +the old man from getting the faintest hint of who the Spaniard might be, +and yet his tongue seemed determined to get him into trouble in spite of +all he could do. He made several efforts to creep out of his scrape, +but the old man's eye was upon him and he made blunder after blunder. +Presently the Welshman said: + +"My boy, don't be afraid of me. I wouldn't hurt a hair of your head for +all the world. No--I'd protect you--I'd protect you. This Spaniard is +not deaf and dumb; you've let that slip without intending it; you can't +cover that up now. You know something about that Spaniard that you want +to keep dark. Now trust me--tell me what it is, and trust me--I won't +betray you." + +Huck looked into the old man's honest eyes a moment, then bent over and +whispered in his ear: + +"'Tain't a Spaniard--it's Injun Joe!" + +The Welshman almost jumped out of his chair. In a moment he said: + +"It's all plain enough, now. When you talked about notching ears and +slitting noses I judged that that was your own embellishment, because +white men don't take that sort of revenge. But an Injun! That's a +different matter altogether." + +During breakfast the talk went on, and in the course of it the old man +said that the last thing which he and his sons had done, before going +to bed, was to get a lantern and examine the stile and its vicinity for +marks of blood. They found none, but captured a bulky bundle of-- + +"Of _what_?" + +If the words had been lightning they could not have leaped with a more +stunning suddenness from Huck's blanched lips. His eyes were staring +wide, now, and his breath suspended--waiting for the answer. The Welshman +started--stared in return--three seconds--five seconds--ten--then replied: + +"Of burglar's tools. Why, what's the _matter_ with you?" + +Huck sank back, panting gently, but deeply, unutterably grateful. The +Welshman eyed him gravely, curiously--and presently said: + +"Yes, burglar's tools. That appears to relieve you a good deal. But what +did give you that turn? What were _you_ expecting we'd found?" + +Huck was in a close place--the inquiring eye was upon him--he would have +given anything for material for a plausible answer--nothing suggested +itself--the inquiring eye was boring deeper and deeper--a senseless +reply offered--there was no time to weigh it, so at a venture he uttered +it--feebly: + +"Sunday-school books, maybe." + +Poor Huck was too distressed to smile, but the old man laughed loud and +joyously, shook up the details of his anatomy from head to foot, and +ended by saying that such a laugh was money in a-man's pocket, because +it cut down the doctor's bill like everything. Then he added: + +"Poor old chap, you're white and jaded--you ain't well a bit--no wonder +you're a little flighty and off your balance. But you'll come out of it. +Rest and sleep will fetch you out all right, I hope." + +Huck was irritated to think he had been such a goose and betrayed such +a suspicious excitement, for he had dropped the idea that the parcel +brought from the tavern was the treasure, as soon as he had heard the +talk at the widow's stile. He had only thought it was not the treasure, +however--he had not known that it wasn't--and so the suggestion of a +captured bundle was too much for his self-possession. But on the whole +he felt glad the little episode had happened, for now he knew beyond all +question that that bundle was not _the_ bundle, and so his mind was +at rest and exceedingly comfortable. In fact, everything seemed to be +drifting just in the right direction, now; the treasure must be still +in No. 2, the men would be captured and jailed that day, and he and +Tom could seize the gold that night without any trouble or any fear of +interruption. + +Just as breakfast was completed there was a knock at the door. Huck +jumped for a hiding-place, for he had no mind to be connected even +remotely with the late event. The Welshman admitted several ladies and +gentlemen, among them the Widow Douglas, and noticed that groups of +citizens were climbing up the hill--to stare at the stile. So the news +had spread. The Welshman had to tell the story of the night to the +visitors. The widow's gratitude for her preservation was outspoken. + +"Don't say a word about it, madam. There's another that you're more +beholden to than you are to me and my boys, maybe, but he don't allow me +to tell his name. We wouldn't have been there but for him." + +Of course this excited a curiosity so vast that it almost belittled the +main matter--but the Welshman allowed it to eat into the vitals of his +visitors, and through them be transmitted to the whole town, for he +refused to part with his secret. When all else had been learned, the +widow said: + +"I went to sleep reading in bed and slept straight through all that +noise. Why didn't you come and wake me?" + +"We judged it warn't worth while. Those fellows warn't likely to come +again--they hadn't any tools left to work with, and what was the use of +waking you up and scaring you to death? My three negro men stood guard +at your house all the rest of the night. They've just come back." + +More visitors came, and the story had to be told and retold for a couple +of hours more. + +There was no Sabbath-school during day-school vacation, but everybody +was early at church. The stirring event was well canvassed. News came +that not a sign of the two villains had been yet discovered. When the +sermon was finished, Judge Thatcher's wife dropped alongside of Mrs. +Harper as she moved down the aisle with the crowd and said: + +"Is my Becky going to sleep all day? I just expected she would be tired +to death." + +"Your Becky?" + +"Yes," with a startled look--"didn't she stay with you last night?" + +"Why, no." + +Mrs. Thatcher turned pale, and sank into a pew, just as Aunt Polly, +talking briskly with a friend, passed by. Aunt Polly said: + +"Goodmorning, Mrs. Thatcher. Goodmorning, Mrs. Harper. I've got a boy +that's turned up missing. I reckon my Tom stayed at your house last +night--one of you. And now he's afraid to come to church. I've got to +settle with him." + +Mrs. Thatcher shook her head feebly and turned paler than ever. + +"He didn't stay with us," said Mrs. Harper, beginning to look uneasy. A +marked anxiety came into Aunt Polly's face. + +"Joe Harper, have you seen my Tom this morning?" + +"No'm." + +"When did you see him last?" + +Joe tried to remember, but was not sure he could say. The people had +stopped moving out of church. Whispers passed along, and a boding +uneasiness took possession of every countenance. Children were anxiously +questioned, and young teachers. They all said they had not noticed +whether Tom and Becky were on board the ferryboat on the homeward trip; +it was dark; no one thought of inquiring if any one was missing. One +young man finally blurted out his fear that they were still in the cave! +Mrs. Thatcher swooned away. Aunt Polly fell to crying and wringing her +hands. + +The alarm swept from lip to lip, from group to group, from street to +street, and within five minutes the bells were wildly clanging and +the whole town was up! The Cardiff Hill episode sank into instant +insignificance, the burglars were forgotten, horses were saddled, skiffs +were manned, the ferryboat ordered out, and before the horror was half +an hour old, two hundred men were pouring down highroad and river toward +the cave. + +All the long afternoon the village seemed empty and dead. Many women +visited Aunt Polly and Mrs. Thatcher and tried to comfort them. They +cried with them, too, and that was still better than words. All the +tedious night the town waited for news; but when the morning dawned at +last, all the word that came was, "Send more candles--and send food." +Mrs. Thatcher was almost crazed; and Aunt Polly, also. Judge Thatcher +sent messages of hope and encouragement from the cave, but they conveyed +no real cheer. + +The old Welshman came home toward daylight, spattered with +candle-grease, smeared with clay, and almost worn out. He found Huck +still in the bed that had been provided for him, and delirious with +fever. The physicians were all at the cave, so the Widow Douglas came +and took charge of the patient. She said she would do her best by him, +because, whether he was good, bad, or indifferent, he was the Lord's, +and nothing that was the Lord's was a thing to be neglected. The +Welshman said Huck had good spots in him, and the widow said: + +"You can depend on it. That's the Lord's mark. He don't leave it off. +He never does. Puts it somewhere on every creature that comes from his +hands." + +Early in the forenoon parties of jaded men began to straggle into the +village, but the strongest of the citizens continued searching. All the +news that could be gained was that remotenesses of the cavern were being +ransacked that had never been visited before; that every corner and +crevice was going to be thoroughly searched; that wherever one wandered +through the maze of passages, lights were to be seen flitting hither +and thither in the distance, and shoutings and pistol-shots sent their +hollow reverberations to the ear down the sombre aisles. In one place, +far from the section usually traversed by tourists, the names "BECKY & +TOM" had been found traced upon the rocky wall with candle-smoke, and +near at hand a grease-soiled bit of ribbon. Mrs. Thatcher recognized the +ribbon and cried over it. She said it was the last relic she should ever +have of her child; and that no other memorial of her could ever be so +precious, because this one parted latest from the living body before the +awful death came. Some said that now and then, in the cave, a far-away +speck of light would glimmer, and then a glorious shout would burst +forth and a score of men go trooping down the echoing aisle--and then a +sickening disappointment always followed; the children were not there; +it was only a searcher's light. + +Three dreadful days and nights dragged their tedious hours along, and +the village sank into a hopeless stupor. No one had heart for anything. +The accidental discovery, just made, that the proprietor of the +Temperance Tavern kept liquor on his premises, scarcely fluttered the +public pulse, tremendous as the fact was. In a lucid interval, Huck +feebly led up to the subject of taverns, and finally asked--dimly +dreading the worst--if anything had been discovered at the Temperance +Tavern since he had been ill. + +"Yes," said the widow. + +Huck started up in bed, wildeyed: + +"What? What was it?" + +"Liquor!--and the place has been shut up. Lie down, child--what a turn you +did give me!" + +"Only tell me just one thing--only just one--please! Was it Tom Sawyer +that found it?" + +The widow burst into tears. "Hush, hush, child, hush! I've told you +before, you must _not_ talk. You are very, very sick!" + +Then nothing but liquor had been found; there would have been a great +powwow if it had been the gold. So the treasure was gone forever--gone +forever! But what could she be crying about? Curious that she should +cry. + +These thoughts worked their dim way through Huck's mind, and under the +weariness they gave him he fell asleep. The widow said to herself: + +"There--he's asleep, poor wreck. Tom Sawyer find it! Pity but somebody +could find Tom Sawyer! Ah, there ain't many left, now, that's got hope +enough, or strength enough, either, to go on searching." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +NOW to return to Tom and Becky's share in the picnic. They tripped along +the murky aisles with the rest of the company, visiting the familiar +wonders of the cave--wonders dubbed with rather over-descriptive names, +such as "The Drawing-Room," "The Cathedral," "Aladdin's Palace," and +so on. Presently the hide-and-seek frolicking began, and Tom and Becky +engaged in it with zeal until the exertion began to grow a trifle +wearisome; then they wandered down a sinuous avenue holding their +candles aloft and reading the tangled webwork of names, dates, +postoffice addresses, and mottoes with which the rocky walls had been +frescoed (in candle-smoke). Still drifting along and talking, they +scarcely noticed that they were now in a part of the cave whose walls +were not frescoed. They smoked their own names under an overhanging +shelf and moved on. Presently they came to a place where a little stream +of water, trickling over a ledge and carrying a limestone sediment with +it, had, in the slow-dragging ages, formed a laced and ruffled Niagara +in gleaming and imperishable stone. Tom squeezed his small body behind +it in order to illuminate it for Becky's gratification. He found that +it curtained a sort of steep natural stairway which was enclosed between +narrow walls, and at once the ambition to be a discoverer seized him. + +Becky responded to his call, and they made a smoke-mark for future +guidance, and started upon their quest. They wound this way and that, +far down into the secret depths of the cave, made another mark, and +branched off in search of novelties to tell the upper world about. In +one place they found a spacious cavern, from whose ceiling depended a +multitude of shining stalactites of the length and circumference of +a man's leg; they walked all about it, wondering and admiring, and +presently left it by one of the numerous passages that opened into +it. This shortly brought them to a bewitching spring, whose basin was +incrusted with a frostwork of glittering crystals; it was in the midst +of a cavern whose walls were supported by many fantastic pillars which +had been formed by the joining of great stalactites and stalagmites +together, the result of the ceaseless water-drip of centuries. Under the +roof vast knots of bats had packed themselves together, thousands in a +bunch; the lights disturbed the creatures and they came flocking down by +hundreds, squeaking and darting furiously at the candles. Tom knew their +ways and the danger of this sort of conduct. He seized Becky's hand and +hurried her into the first corridor that offered; and none too soon, for +a bat struck Becky's light out with its wing while she was passing out +of the cavern. The bats chased the children a good distance; but the +fugitives plunged into every new passage that offered, and at last got +rid of the perilous things. Tom found a subterranean lake, shortly, +which stretched its dim length away until its shape was lost in the +shadows. He wanted to explore its borders, but concluded that it would +be best to sit down and rest awhile, first. Now, for the first time, the +deep stillness of the place laid a clammy hand upon the spirits of the +children. Becky said: + +"Why, I didn't notice, but it seems ever so long since I heard any of +the others." + +"Come to think, Becky, we are away down below them--and I don't know how +far away north, or south, or east, or whichever it is. We couldn't hear +them here." + +Becky grew apprehensive. + +"I wonder how long we've been down here, Tom? We better start back." + +"Yes, I reckon we better. P'raps we better." + +"Can you find the way, Tom? It's all a mixed-up crookedness to me." + +"I reckon I could find it--but then the bats. If they put our candles +out it will be an awful fix. Let's try some other way, so as not to go +through there." + +"Well. But I hope we won't get lost. It would be so awful!" and the girl +shuddered at the thought of the dreadful possibilities. + +They started through a corridor, and traversed it in silence a long +way, glancing at each new opening, to see if there was anything familiar +about the look of it; but they were all strange. Every time Tom made an +examination, Becky would watch his face for an encouraging sign, and he +would say cheerily: + +"Oh, it's all right. This ain't the one, but we'll come to it right +away!" + +But he felt less and less hopeful with each failure, and presently began +to turn off into diverging avenues at sheer random, in desperate hope of +finding the one that was wanted. He still said it was "all right," but +there was such a leaden dread at his heart that the words had lost their +ring and sounded just as if he had said, "All is lost!" Becky clung to +his side in an anguish of fear, and tried hard to keep back the tears, +but they would come. At last she said: + +"Oh, Tom, never mind the bats, let's go back that way! We seem to get +worse and worse off all the time." + +"Listen!" said he. + +Profound silence; silence so deep that even their breathings were +conspicuous in the hush. Tom shouted. The call went echoing down +the empty aisles and died out in the distance in a faint sound that +resembled a ripple of mocking laughter. + +"Oh, don't do it again, Tom, it is too horrid," said Becky. + +"It is horrid, but I better, Becky; they might hear us, you know," and +he shouted again. + +The "might" was even a chillier horror than the ghostly laughter, it so +confessed a perishing hope. The children stood still and listened; but +there was no result. Tom turned upon the back track at once, and hurried +his steps. It was but a little while before a certain indecision in his +manner revealed another fearful fact to Becky--he could not find his way +back! + +"Oh, Tom, you didn't make any marks!" + +"Becky, I was such a fool! Such a fool! I never thought we might want to +come back! No--I can't find the way. It's all mixed up." + +"Tom, Tom, we're lost! we're lost! We never can get out of this awful +place! Oh, why _did_ we ever leave the others!" + +She sank to the ground and burst into such a frenzy of crying that Tom +was appalled with the idea that she might die, or lose her reason. He +sat down by her and put his arms around her; she buried her face in +his bosom, she clung to him, she poured out her terrors, her unavailing +regrets, and the far echoes turned them all to jeering laughter. Tom +begged her to pluck up hope again, and she said she could not. He fell +to blaming and abusing himself for getting her into this miserable +situation; this had a better effect. She said she would try to hope +again, she would get up and follow wherever he might lead if only he +would not talk like that any more. For he was no more to blame than she, +she said. + +So they moved on again--aimlessly--simply at random--all they could do +was to move, keep moving. For a little while, hope made a show of +reviving--not with any reason to back it, but only because it is its +nature to revive when the spring has not been taken out of it by age and +familiarity with failure. + +By-and-by Tom took Becky's candle and blew it out. This economy meant so +much! Words were not needed. Becky understood, and her hope died again. +She knew that Tom had a whole candle and three or four pieces in his +pockets--yet he must economize. + +By-and-by, fatigue began to assert its claims; the children tried to pay +attention, for it was dreadful to think of sitting down when time was +grown to be so precious, moving, in some direction, in any direction, +was at least progress and might bear fruit; but to sit down was to +invite death and shorten its pursuit. + +At last Becky's frail limbs refused to carry her farther. She sat down. +Tom rested with her, and they talked of home, and the friends there, +and the comfortable beds and, above all, the light! Becky cried, and Tom +tried to think of some way of comforting her, but all his encouragements +were grown thread-bare with use, and sounded like sarcasms. Fatigue bore +so heavily upon Becky that she drowsed off to sleep. Tom was grateful. +He sat looking into her drawn face and saw it grow smooth and natural +under the influence of pleasant dreams; and by-and-by a smile dawned and +rested there. The peaceful face reflected somewhat of peace and healing +into his own spirit, and his thoughts wandered away to bygone times and +dreamy memories. While he was deep in his musings, Becky woke up with a +breezy little laugh--but it was stricken dead upon her lips, and a groan +followed it. + +"Oh, how _could_ I sleep! I wish I never, never had waked! No! No, I +don't, Tom! Don't look so! I won't say it again." + +"I'm glad you've slept, Becky; you'll feel rested, now, and we'll find +the way out." + +"We can try, Tom; but I've seen such a beautiful country in my dream. I +reckon we are going there." + +"Maybe not, maybe not. Cheer up, Becky, and let's go on trying." + +They rose up and wandered along, hand in hand and hopeless. They tried +to estimate how long they had been in the cave, but all they knew was +that it seemed days and weeks, and yet it was plain that this could not +be, for their candles were not gone yet. A long time after this--they +could not tell how long--Tom said they must go softly and listen for +dripping water--they must find a spring. They found one presently, and +Tom said it was time to rest again. Both were cruelly tired, yet Becky +said she thought she could go a little farther. She was surprised to +hear Tom dissent. She could not understand it. They sat down, and Tom +fastened his candle to the wall in front of them with some clay. Thought +was soon busy; nothing was said for some time. Then Becky broke the +silence: + +"Tom, I am so hungry!" + +Tom took something out of his pocket. + +"Do you remember this?" said he. + +Becky almost smiled. + +"It's our wedding-cake, Tom." + +"Yes--I wish it was as big as a barrel, for it's all we've got." + +"I saved it from the picnic for us to dream on, Tom, the way grownup +people do with wedding-cake--but it'll be our--" + +She dropped the sentence where it was. Tom divided the cake and Becky +ate with good appetite, while Tom nibbled at his moiety. There was +abundance of cold water to finish the feast with. By-and-by Becky +suggested that they move on again. Tom was silent a moment. Then he +said: + +"Becky, can you bear it if I tell you something?" + +Becky's face paled, but she thought she could. + +"Well, then, Becky, we must stay here, where there's water to drink. +That little piece is our last candle!" + +Becky gave loose to tears and wailings. Tom did what he could to comfort +her, but with little effect. At length Becky said: + +"Tom!" + +"Well, Becky?" + +"They'll miss us and hunt for us!" + +"Yes, they will! Certainly they will!" + +"Maybe they're hunting for us now, Tom." + +"Why, I reckon maybe they are. I hope they are." + +"When would they miss us, Tom?" + +"When they get back to the boat, I reckon." + +"Tom, it might be dark then--would they notice we hadn't come?" + +"I don't know. But anyway, your mother would miss you as soon as they +got home." + +A frightened look in Becky's face brought Tom to his senses and he saw +that he had made a blunder. Becky was not to have gone home that night! +The children became silent and thoughtful. In a moment a new burst of +grief from Becky showed Tom that the thing in his mind had struck hers +also--that the Sabbath morning might be half spent before Mrs. Thatcher +discovered that Becky was not at Mrs. Harper's. + +The children fastened their eyes upon their bit of candle and watched it +melt slowly and pitilessly away; saw the half inch of wick stand alone +at last; saw the feeble flame rise and fall, climb the thin column of +smoke, linger at its top a moment, and then--the horror of utter darkness +reigned! + +How long afterward it was that Becky came to a slow consciousness that +she was crying in Tom's arms, neither could tell. All that they knew +was, that after what seemed a mighty stretch of time, both awoke out of +a dead stupor of sleep and resumed their miseries once more. Tom said +it might be Sunday, now--maybe Monday. He tried to get Becky to talk, but +her sorrows were too oppressive, all her hopes were gone. Tom said that +they must have been missed long ago, and no doubt the search was going +on. He would shout and maybe some one would come. He tried it; but in +the darkness the distant echoes sounded so hideously that he tried it no +more. + +The hours wasted away, and hunger came to torment the captives again. A +portion of Tom's half of the cake was left; they divided and ate it. But +they seemed hungrier than before. The poor morsel of food only whetted +desire. + +By-and-by Tom said: + +"SH! Did you hear that?" + +Both held their breath and listened. There was a sound like the +faintest, far-off shout. Instantly Tom answered it, and leading Becky by +the hand, started groping down the corridor in its direction. Presently +he listened again; again the sound was heard, and apparently a little +nearer. + +"It's them!" said Tom; "they're coming! Come along, Becky--we're all +right now!" + +The joy of the prisoners was almost overwhelming. Their speed was slow, +however, because pitfalls were somewhat common, and had to be guarded +against. They shortly came to one and had to stop. It might be three +feet deep, it might be a hundred--there was no passing it at any rate. +Tom got down on his breast and reached as far down as he could. No +bottom. They must stay there and wait until the searchers came. They +listened; evidently the distant shoutings were growing more distant! +a moment or two more and they had gone altogether. The heart-sinking +misery of it! Tom whooped until he was hoarse, but it was of no use. He +talked hopefully to Becky; but an age of anxious waiting passed and no +sounds came again. + +The children groped their way back to the spring. The weary time dragged +on; they slept again, and awoke famished and woe-stricken. Tom believed +it must be Tuesday by this time. + +Now an idea struck him. There were some side passages near at hand. It +would be better to explore some of these than bear the weight of the +heavy time in idleness. He took a kite-line from his pocket, tied it to +a projection, and he and Becky started, Tom in the lead, unwinding the +line as he groped along. At the end of twenty steps the corridor ended +in a "jumping-off place." Tom got down on his knees and felt below, +and then as far around the corner as he could reach with his hands +conveniently; he made an effort to stretch yet a little farther to the +right, and at that moment, not twenty yards away, a human hand, holding +a candle, appeared from behind a rock! Tom lifted up a glorious shout, +and instantly that hand was followed by the body it belonged to--Injun +Joe's! Tom was paralyzed; he could not move. He was vastly gratified the +next moment, to see the "Spaniard" take to his heels and get himself out +of sight. Tom wondered that Joe had not recognized his voice and come +over and killed him for testifying in court. But the echoes must have +disguised the voice. Without doubt, that was it, he reasoned. Tom's +fright weakened every muscle in his body. He said to himself that if he +had strength enough to get back to the spring he would stay there, and +nothing should tempt him to run the risk of meeting Injun Joe again. He +was careful to keep from Becky what it was he had seen. He told her he +had only shouted "for luck." + +But hunger and wretchedness rise superior to fears in the long run. +Another tedious wait at the spring and another long sleep brought +changes. The children awoke tortured with a raging hunger. Tom believed +that it must be Wednesday or Thursday or even Friday or Saturday, now, +and that the search had been given over. He proposed to explore another +passage. He felt willing to risk Injun Joe and all other terrors. But +Becky was very weak. She had sunk into a dreary apathy and would not be +roused. She said she would wait, now, where she was, and die--it would +not be long. She told Tom to go with the kite-line and explore if he +chose; but she implored him to come back every little while and speak +to her; and she made him promise that when the awful time came, he would +stay by her and hold her hand until all was over. + +Tom kissed her, with a choking sensation in his throat, and made a show +of being confident of finding the searchers or an escape from the cave; +then he took the kite-line in his hand and went groping down one of the +passages on his hands and knees, distressed with hunger and sick with +bodings of coming doom. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +TUESDAY afternoon came, and waned to the twilight. The village of St. +Petersburg still mourned. The lost children had not been found. Public +prayers had been offered up for them, and many and many a private prayer +that had the petitioner's whole heart in it; but still no good news came +from the cave. The majority of the searchers had given up the quest +and gone back to their daily avocations, saying that it was plain the +children could never be found. Mrs. Thatcher was very ill, and a great +part of the time delirious. People said it was heartbreaking to hear her +call her child, and raise her head and listen a whole minute at a time, +then lay it wearily down again with a moan. Aunt Polly had drooped into +a settled melancholy, and her gray hair had grown almost white. The +village went to its rest on Tuesday night, sad and forlorn. + +Away in the middle of the night a wild peal burst from the village +bells, and in a moment the streets were swarming with frantic half-clad +people, who shouted, "Turn out! turn out! they're found! they're found!" +Tin pans and horns were added to the din, the population massed itself +and moved toward the river, met the children coming in an open carriage +drawn by shouting citizens, thronged around it, joined its homeward +march, and swept magnificently up the main street roaring huzzah after +huzzah! + +The village was illuminated; nobody went to bed again; it was the +greatest night the little town had ever seen. During the first half-hour +a procession of villagers filed through Judge Thatcher's house, seized +the saved ones and kissed them, squeezed Mrs. Thatcher's hand, tried to +speak but couldn't--and drifted out raining tears all over the place. + +Aunt Polly's happiness was complete, and Mrs. Thatcher's nearly so. It +would be complete, however, as soon as the messenger dispatched with the +great news to the cave should get the word to her husband. Tom lay upon +a sofa with an eager auditory about him and told the history of the +wonderful adventure, putting in many striking additions to adorn it +withal; and closed with a description of how he left Becky and went +on an exploring expedition; how he followed two avenues as far as his +kite-line would reach; how he followed a third to the fullest stretch +of the kite-line, and was about to turn back when he glimpsed a far-off +speck that looked like daylight; dropped the line and groped toward it, +pushed his head and shoulders through a small hole, and saw the broad +Mississippi rolling by! + +And if it had only happened to be night he would not have seen that +speck of daylight and would not have explored that passage any more! He +told how he went back for Becky and broke the good news and she told +him not to fret her with such stuff, for she was tired, and knew she was +going to die, and wanted to. He described how he labored with her and +convinced her; and how she almost died for joy when she had groped to +where she actually saw the blue speck of daylight; how he pushed his way +out at the hole and then helped her out; how they sat there and cried +for gladness; how some men came along in a skiff and Tom hailed them +and told them their situation and their famished condition; how the men +didn't believe the wild tale at first, "because," said they, "you are +five miles down the river below the valley the cave is in"--then took +them aboard, rowed to a house, gave them supper, made them rest till two +or three hours after dark and then brought them home. + +Before day-dawn, Judge Thatcher and the handful of searchers with him +were tracked out, in the cave, by the twine clews they had strung behind +them, and informed of the great news. + +Three days and nights of toil and hunger in the cave were not to +be shaken off at once, as Tom and Becky soon discovered. They were +bedridden all of Wednesday and Thursday, and seemed to grow more and +more tired and worn, all the time. Tom got about, a little, on Thursday, +was downtown Friday, and nearly as whole as ever Saturday; but Becky +did not leave her room until Sunday, and then she looked as if she had +passed through a wasting illness. + +Tom learned of Huck's sickness and went to see him on Friday, but could +not be admitted to the bedroom; neither could he on Saturday or Sunday. +He was admitted daily after that, but was warned to keep still about his +adventure and introduce no exciting topic. The Widow Douglas stayed by +to see that he obeyed. At home Tom learned of the Cardiff Hill event; +also that the "ragged man's" body had eventually been found in the river +near the ferry-landing; he had been drowned while trying to escape, +perhaps. + +About a fortnight after Tom's rescue from the cave, he started off to +visit Huck, who had grown plenty strong enough, now, to hear exciting +talk, and Tom had some that would interest him, he thought. Judge +Thatcher's house was on Tom's way, and he stopped to see Becky. The +Judge and some friends set Tom to talking, and some one asked him +ironically if he wouldn't like to go to the cave again. Tom said he +thought he wouldn't mind it. The Judge said: + +"Well, there are others just like you, Tom, I've not the least doubt. +But we have taken care of that. Nobody will get lost in that cave any +more." + +"Why?" + +"Because I had its big door sheathed with boiler iron two weeks ago, and +triple-locked--and I've got the keys." + +Tom turned as white as a sheet. + +"What's the matter, boy! Here, run, somebody! Fetch a glass of water!" + +The water was brought and thrown into Tom's face. + +"Ah, now you're all right. What was the matter with you, Tom?" + +"Oh, Judge, Injun Joe's in the cave!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +WITHIN a few minutes the news had spread, and a dozen skiff-loads of +men were on their way to McDougal's cave, and the ferryboat, well filled +with passengers, soon followed. Tom Sawyer was in the skiff that bore +Judge Thatcher. + +When the cave door was unlocked, a sorrowful sight presented itself in +the dim twilight of the place. Injun Joe lay stretched upon the ground, +dead, with his face close to the crack of the door, as if his longing +eyes had been fixed, to the latest moment, upon the light and the cheer +of the free world outside. Tom was touched, for he knew by his own +experience how this wretch had suffered. His pity was moved, but +nevertheless he felt an abounding sense of relief and security, now, +which revealed to him in a degree which he had not fully appreciated +before how vast a weight of dread had been lying upon him since the day +he lifted his voice against this bloody-minded outcast. + +Injun Joe's bowie-knife lay close by, its blade broken in two. The great +foundation-beam of the door had been chipped and hacked through, with +tedious labor; useless labor, too, it was, for the native rock formed a +sill outside it, and upon that stubborn material the knife had wrought +no effect; the only damage done was to the knife itself. But if there +had been no stony obstruction there the labor would have been useless +still, for if the beam had been wholly cut away Injun Joe could not have +squeezed his body under the door, and he knew it. So he had only hacked +that place in order to be doing something--in order to pass the weary +time--in order to employ his tortured faculties. Ordinarily one could +find half a dozen bits of candle stuck around in the crevices of this +vestibule, left there by tourists; but there were none now. The prisoner +had searched them out and eaten them. He had also contrived to catch a +few bats, and these, also, he had eaten, leaving only their claws. The +poor unfortunate had starved to death. In one place, near at hand, a +stalagmite had been slowly growing up from the ground for ages, builded +by the water-drip from a stalactite overhead. The captive had broken off +the stalagmite, and upon the stump had placed a stone, wherein he had +scooped a shallow hollow to catch the precious drop that fell once +in every three minutes with the dreary regularity of a clock-tick--a +dessertspoonful once in four and twenty hours. That drop was falling +when the Pyramids were new; when Troy fell; when the foundations of Rome +were laid; when Christ was crucified; when the Conqueror created the +British empire; when Columbus sailed; when the massacre at Lexington was +"news." + +It is falling now; it will still be falling when all these things shall +have sunk down the afternoon of history, and the twilight of tradition, +and been swallowed up in the thick night of oblivion. Has everything a +purpose and a mission? Did this drop fall patiently during five thousand +years to be ready for this flitting human insect's need? and has it +another important object to accomplish ten thousand years to come? No +matter. It is many and many a year since the hapless half-breed scooped +out the stone to catch the priceless drops, but to this day the tourist +stares longest at that pathetic stone and that slow-dropping water when +he comes to see the wonders of McDougal's cave. Injun Joe's cup stands +first in the list of the cavern's marvels; even "Aladdin's Palace" +cannot rival it. + +Injun Joe was buried near the mouth of the cave; and people flocked +there in boats and wagons from the towns and from all the farms and +hamlets for seven miles around; they brought their children, and +all sorts of provisions, and confessed that they had had almost as +satisfactory a time at the funeral as they could have had at the +hanging. + +This funeral stopped the further growth of one thing--the petition to the +governor for Injun Joe's pardon. The petition had been largely signed; +many tearful and eloquent meetings had been held, and a committee of +sappy women been appointed to go in deep mourning and wail around the +governor, and implore him to be a merciful ass and trample his duty +under foot. Injun Joe was believed to have killed five citizens of the +village, but what of that? If he had been Satan himself there would +have been plenty of weaklings ready to scribble their names to a +pardon-petition, and drip a tear on it from their permanently impaired +and leaky water-works. + +The morning after the funeral Tom took Huck to a private place to have +an important talk. Huck had learned all about Tom's adventure from the +Welshman and the Widow Douglas, by this time, but Tom said he reckoned +there was one thing they had not told him; that thing was what he wanted +to talk about now. Huck's face saddened. He said: + +"I know what it is. You got into No. 2 and never found anything but +whiskey. Nobody told me it was you; but I just knowed it must 'a' ben +you, soon as I heard 'bout that whiskey business; and I knowed you +hadn't got the money becuz you'd 'a' got at me some way or other and +told me even if you was mum to everybody else. Tom, something's always +told me we'd never get holt of that swag." + +"Why, Huck, I never told on that tavern-keeper. _You_ know his tavern +was all right the Saturday I went to the picnic. Don't you remember you +was to watch there that night?" + +"Oh yes! Why, it seems 'bout a year ago. It was that very night that I +follered Injun Joe to the widder's." + +"_You_ followed him?" + +"Yes--but you keep mum. I reckon Injun Joe's left friends behind him, and +I don't want 'em souring on me and doing me mean tricks. If it hadn't +ben for me he'd be down in Texas now, all right." + +Then Huck told his entire adventure in confidence to Tom, who had only +heard of the Welshman's part of it before. + +"Well," said Huck, presently, coming back to the main question, "whoever +nipped the whiskey in No. 2, nipped the money, too, I reckon--anyways +it's a goner for us, Tom." + +"Huck, that money wasn't ever in No. 2!" + +"What!" Huck searched his comrade's face keenly. "Tom, have you got on +the track of that money again?" + +"Huck, it's in the cave!" + +Huck's eyes blazed. + +"Say it again, Tom." + +"The money's in the cave!" + +"Tom--honest injun, now--is it fun, or earnest?" + +"Earnest, Huck--just as earnest as ever I was in my life. Will you go in +there with me and help get it out?" + +"I bet I will! I will if it's where we can blaze our way to it and not +get lost." + +"Huck, we can do that without the least little bit of trouble in the +world." + +"Good as wheat! What makes you think the money's--" + +"Huck, you just wait till we get in there. If we don't find it I'll +agree to give you my drum and every thing I've got in the world. I will, +by jings." + +"All right--it's a whiz. When do you say?" + +"Right now, if you say it. Are you strong enough?" + +"Is it far in the cave? I ben on my pins a little, three or four days, +now, but I can't walk more'n a mile, Tom--least I don't think I could." + +"It's about five mile into there the way anybody but me would go, Huck, +but there's a mighty short cut that they don't anybody but me know +about. Huck, I'll take you right to it in a skiff. I'll float the skiff +down there, and I'll pull it back again all by myself. You needn't ever +turn your hand over." + +"Less start right off, Tom." + +"All right. We want some bread and meat, and our pipes, and a little +bag or two, and two or three kite-strings, and some of these new-fangled +things they call lucifer matches. I tell you, many's the time I wished I +had some when I was in there before." + +A trifle after noon the boys borrowed a small skiff from a citizen who +was absent, and got under way at once. When they were several miles +below "Cave Hollow," Tom said: + +"Now you see this bluff here looks all alike all the way down from the +cave hollow--no houses, no wood-yards, bushes all alike. But do you see +that white place up yonder where there's been a landslide? Well, that's +one of my marks. We'll get ashore, now." + +They landed. + +"Now, Huck, where we're a-standing you could touch that hole I got out +of with a fishing-pole. See if you can find it." + +Huck searched all the place about, and found nothing. Tom proudly +marched into a thick clump of sumach bushes and said: + +"Here you are! Look at it, Huck; it's the snuggest hole in this country. +You just keep mum about it. All along I've been wanting to be a robber, +but I knew I'd got to have a thing like this, and where to run across +it was the bother. We've got it now, and we'll keep it quiet, only we'll +let Joe Harper and Ben Rogers in--because of course there's got to be a +Gang, or else there wouldn't be any style about it. Tom Sawyer's Gang--it +sounds splendid, don't it, Huck?" + +"Well, it just does, Tom. And who'll we rob?" + +"Oh, most anybody. Waylay people--that's mostly the way." + +"And kill them?" + +"No, not always. Hive them in the cave till they raise a ransom." + +"What's a ransom?" + +"Money. You make them raise all they can, off'n their friends; and after +you've kept them a year, if it ain't raised then you kill them. That's +the general way. Only you don't kill the women. You shut up the women, +but you don't kill them. They're always beautiful and rich, and awfully +scared. You take their watches and things, but you always take your hat +off and talk polite. They ain't anybody as polite as robbers--you'll see +that in any book. Well, the women get to loving you, and after they've +been in the cave a week or two weeks they stop crying and after that +you couldn't get them to leave. If you drove them out they'd turn right +around and come back. It's so in all the books." + +"Why, it's real bully, Tom. I believe it's better'n to be a pirate." + +"Yes, it's better in some ways, because it's close to home and circuses +and all that." + +By this time everything was ready and the boys entered the hole, Tom in +the lead. They toiled their way to the farther end of the tunnel, then +made their spliced kite-strings fast and moved on. A few steps brought +them to the spring, and Tom felt a shudder quiver all through him. +He showed Huck the fragment of candle-wick perched on a lump of clay +against the wall, and described how he and Becky had watched the flame +struggle and expire. + +The boys began to quiet down to whispers, now, for the stillness and +gloom of the place oppressed their spirits. They went on, and presently +entered and followed Tom's other corridor until they reached the +"jumping-off place." The candles revealed the fact that it was not +really a precipice, but only a steep clay hill twenty or thirty feet +high. Tom whispered: + +"Now I'll show you something, Huck." + +He held his candle aloft and said: + +"Look as far around the corner as you can. Do you see that? There--on the +big rock over yonder--done with candle-smoke." + +"Tom, it's a _cross_!" + +"_Now_ where's your Number Two? '_under the cross_,' hey? Right yonder's +where I saw Injun Joe poke up his candle, Huck!" + +Huck stared at the mystic sign awhile, and then said with a shaky voice: + +"Tom, less git out of here!" + +"What! and leave the treasure?" + +"Yes--leave it. Injun Joe's ghost is round about there, certain." + +"No it ain't, Huck, no it ain't. It would ha'nt the place where he +died--away out at the mouth of the cave--five mile from here." + +"No, Tom, it wouldn't. It would hang round the money. I know the ways of +ghosts, and so do you." + +Tom began to fear that Huck was right. Mis-givings gathered in his mind. +But presently an idea occurred to him-- + +"Lookyhere, Huck, what fools we're making of ourselves! Injun Joe's +ghost ain't a going to come around where there's a cross!" + +The point was well taken. It had its effect. + +"Tom, I didn't think of that. But that's so. It's luck for us, that +cross is. I reckon we'll climb down there and have a hunt for that box." + +Tom went first, cutting rude steps in the clay hill as he descended. +Huck followed. Four avenues opened out of the small cavern which the +great rock stood in. The boys examined three of them with no result. +They found a small recess in the one nearest the base of the rock, with +a pallet of blankets spread down in it; also an old suspender, some +bacon rind, and the well-gnawed bones of two or three fowls. But there +was no moneybox. The lads searched and researched this place, but in +vain. Tom said: + +"He said _under_ the cross. Well, this comes nearest to being under the +cross. It can't be under the rock itself, because that sets solid on the +ground." + +They searched everywhere once more, and then sat down discouraged. Huck +could suggest nothing. By-and-by Tom said: + +"Lookyhere, Huck, there's footprints and some candle-grease on the clay +about one side of this rock, but not on the other sides. Now, what's +that for? I bet you the money _is_ under the rock. I'm going to dig in +the clay." + +"That ain't no bad notion, Tom!" said Huck with animation. + +Tom's "real Barlow" was out at once, and he had not dug four inches +before he struck wood. + +"Hey, Huck!--you hear that?" + +Huck began to dig and scratch now. Some boards were soon uncovered and +removed. They had concealed a natural chasm which led under the rock. +Tom got into this and held his candle as far under the rock as he +could, but said he could not see to the end of the rift. He proposed +to explore. He stooped and passed under; the narrow way descended +gradually. He followed its winding course, first to the right, then to +the left, Huck at his heels. Tom turned a short curve, by-and-by, and +exclaimed: + +"My goodness, Huck, lookyhere!" + +It was the treasure-box, sure enough, occupying a snug little cavern, +along with an empty powder-keg, a couple of guns in leather cases, two +or three pairs of old moccasins, a leather belt, and some other rubbish +well soaked with the water-drip. + +"Got it at last!" said Huck, ploughing among the tarnished coins with +his hand. "My, but we're rich, Tom!" + +"Huck, I always reckoned we'd get it. It's just too good to believe, but +we _have_ got it, sure! Say--let's not fool around here. Let's snake it +out. Lemme see if I can lift the box." + +It weighed about fifty pounds. Tom could lift it, after an awkward +fashion, but could not carry it conveniently. + +"I thought so," he said; "_They_ carried it like it was heavy, that day +at the ha'nted house. I noticed that. I reckon I was right to think of +fetching the little bags along." + +The money was soon in the bags and the boys took it up to the cross +rock. + +"Now less fetch the guns and things," said Huck. + +"No, Huck--leave them there. They're just the tricks to have when we +go to robbing. We'll keep them there all the time, and we'll hold our +orgies there, too. It's an awful snug place for orgies." + +"What orgies?" + +"I dono. But robbers always have orgies, and of course we've got to +have them, too. Come along, Huck, we've been in here a long time. It's +getting late, I reckon. I'm hungry, too. We'll eat and smoke when we get +to the skiff." + +They presently emerged into the clump of sumach bushes, looked warily +out, found the coast clear, and were soon lunching and smoking in the +skiff. As the sun dipped toward the horizon they pushed out and got +under way. Tom skimmed up the shore through the long twilight, chatting +cheerily with Huck, and landed shortly after dark. + +"Now, Huck," said Tom, "we'll hide the money in the loft of the widow's +woodshed, and I'll come up in the morning and we'll count it and divide, +and then we'll hunt up a place out in the woods for it where it will be +safe. Just you lay quiet here and watch the stuff till I run and hook +Benny Taylor's little wagon; I won't be gone a minute." + +He disappeared, and presently returned with the wagon, put the two small +sacks into it, threw some old rags on top of them, and started off, +dragging his cargo behind him. When the boys reached the Welshman's +house, they stopped to rest. Just as they were about to move on, the +Welshman stepped out and said: + +"Hallo, who's that?" + +"Huck and Tom Sawyer." + +"Good! Come along with me, boys, you are keeping everybody waiting. +Here--hurry up, trot ahead--I'll haul the wagon for you. Why, it's not as +light as it might be. Got bricks in it?--or old metal?" + +"Old metal," said Tom. + +"I judged so; the boys in this town will take more trouble and fool away +more time hunting up six bits' worth of old iron to sell to the foundry +than they would to make twice the money at regular work. But that's +human nature--hurry along, hurry along!" + +The boys wanted to know what the hurry was about. + +"Never mind; you'll see, when we get to the Widow Douglas'." + +Huck said with some apprehension--for he was long used to being falsely +accused: + +"Mr. Jones, we haven't been doing nothing." + +The Welshman laughed. + +"Well, I don't know, Huck, my boy. I don't know about that. Ain't you +and the widow good friends?" + +"Yes. Well, she's ben good friends to me, anyway." + +"All right, then. What do you want to be afraid for?" + +This question was not entirely answered in Huck's slow mind before he +found himself pushed, along with Tom, into Mrs. Douglas' drawing-room. +Mr. Jones left the wagon near the door and followed. + +The place was grandly lighted, and everybody that was of any consequence +in the village was there. The Thatchers were there, the Harpers, the +Rogerses, Aunt Polly, Sid, Mary, the minister, the editor, and a great +many more, and all dressed in their best. The widow received the boys +as heartily as any one could well receive two such looking beings. They +were covered with clay and candle-grease. Aunt Polly blushed crimson +with humiliation, and frowned and shook her head at Tom. Nobody suffered +half as much as the two boys did, however. Mr. Jones said: + +"Tom wasn't at home, yet, so I gave him up; but I stumbled on him and +Huck right at my door, and so I just brought them along in a hurry." + +"And you did just right," said the widow. "Come with me, boys." + +She took them to a bedchamber and said: + +"Now wash and dress yourselves. Here are two new suits of +clothes--shirts, socks, everything complete. They're Huck's--no, no +thanks, Huck--Mr. Jones bought one and I the other. But they'll fit both +of you. Get into them. We'll wait--come down when you are slicked up +enough." + +Then she left. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +HUCK said: "Tom, we can slope, if we can find a rope. The window ain't +high from the ground." + +"Shucks! what do you want to slope for?" + +"Well, I ain't used to that kind of a crowd. I can't stand it. I ain't +going down there, Tom." + +"Oh, bother! It ain't anything. I don't mind it a bit. I'll take care of +you." + +Sid appeared. + +"Tom," said he, "auntie has been waiting for you all the afternoon. Mary +got your Sunday clothes ready, and everybody's been fretting about you. +Say--ain't this grease and clay, on your clothes?" + +"Now, Mr. Siddy, you jist 'tend to your own business. What's all this +blowout about, anyway?" + +"It's one of the widow's parties that she's always having. This time +it's for the Welshman and his sons, on account of that scrape they +helped her out of the other night. And say--I can tell you something, if +you want to know." + +"Well, what?" + +"Why, old Mr. Jones is going to try to spring something on the people +here tonight, but I overheard him tell auntie today about it, as a +secret, but I reckon it's not much of a secret now. Everybody knows--the +widow, too, for all she tries to let on she don't. Mr. Jones was bound +Huck should be here--couldn't get along with his grand secret without +Huck, you know!" + +"Secret about what, Sid?" + +"About Huck tracking the robbers to the widow's. I reckon Mr. Jones was +going to make a grand time over his surprise, but I bet you it will drop +pretty flat." + +Sid chuckled in a very contented and satisfied way. + +"Sid, was it you that told?" + +"Oh, never mind who it was. _Somebody_ told--that's enough." + +"Sid, there's only one person in this town mean enough to do that, and +that's you. If you had been in Huck's place you'd 'a' sneaked down the +hill and never told anybody on the robbers. You can't do any but mean +things, and you can't bear to see anybody praised for doing good ones. +There--no thanks, as the widow says"--and Tom cuffed Sid's ears and helped +him to the door with several kicks. "Now go and tell auntie if you +dare--and tomorrow you'll catch it!" + +Some minutes later the widow's guests were at the supper-table, and a +dozen children were propped up at little side-tables in the same room, +after the fashion of that country and that day. At the proper time Mr. +Jones made his little speech, in which he thanked the widow for the +honor she was doing himself and his sons, but said that there was +another person whose modesty-- + +And so forth and so on. He sprung his secret about Huck's share in +the adventure in the finest dramatic manner he was master of, but the +surprise it occasioned was largely counterfeit and not as clamorous and +effusive as it might have been under happier circumstances. However, +the widow made a pretty fair show of astonishment, and heaped so many +compliments and so much gratitude upon Huck that he almost forgot +the nearly intolerable discomfort of his new clothes in the entirely +intolerable discomfort of being set up as a target for everybody's gaze +and everybody's laudations. + +The widow said she meant to give Huck a home under her roof and have him +educated; and that when she could spare the money she would start him in +business in a modest way. Tom's chance was come. He said: + +"Huck don't need it. Huck's rich." + +Nothing but a heavy strain upon the good manners of the company kept +back the due and proper complimentary laugh at this pleasant joke. But +the silence was a little awkward. Tom broke it: + +"Huck's got money. Maybe you don't believe it, but he's got lots of it. +Oh, you needn't smile--I reckon I can show you. You just wait a minute." + +Tom ran out of doors. The company looked at each other with a perplexed +interest--and inquiringly at Huck, who was tongue-tied. + +"Sid, what ails Tom?" said Aunt Polly. "He--well, there ain't ever any +making of that boy out. I never--" + +Tom entered, struggling with the weight of his sacks, and Aunt Polly +did not finish her sentence. Tom poured the mass of yellow coin upon the +table and said: + +"There--what did I tell you? Half of it's Huck's and half of it's mine!" + +The spectacle took the general breath away. All gazed, nobody spoke for +a moment. Then there was a unanimous call for an explanation. Tom said +he could furnish it, and he did. The tale was long, but brimful of +interest. There was scarcely an interruption from any one to break the +charm of its flow. When he had finished, Mr. Jones said: + +"I thought I had fixed up a little surprise for this occasion, but it +don't amount to anything now. This one makes it sing mighty small, I'm +willing to allow." + +The money was counted. The sum amounted to a little over twelve thousand +dollars. It was more than any one present had ever seen at one time +before, though several persons were there who were worth considerably +more than that in property. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +THE reader may rest satisfied that Tom's and Huck's windfall made a +mighty stir in the poor little village of St. Petersburg. So vast a +sum, all in actual cash, seemed next to incredible. It was talked +about, gloated over, glorified, until the reason of many of the citizens +tottered under the strain of the unhealthy excitement. Every "haunted" +house in St. Petersburg and the neighboring villages was dissected, +plank by plank, and its foundations dug up and ransacked for hidden +treasure--and not by boys, but men--pretty grave, unromantic men, too, +some of them. Wherever Tom and Huck appeared they were courted, admired, +stared at. The boys were not able to remember that their remarks had +possessed weight before; but now their sayings were treasured and +repeated; everything they did seemed somehow to be regarded as +remarkable; they had evidently lost the power of doing and saying +commonplace things; moreover, their past history was raked up and +discovered to bear marks of conspicuous originality. The village paper +published biographical sketches of the boys. + +The Widow Douglas put Huck's money out at six per cent., and Judge +Thatcher did the same with Tom's at Aunt Polly's request. Each lad had +an income, now, that was simply prodigious--a dollar for every weekday in +the year and half of the Sundays. It was just what the minister got--no, +it was what he was promised--he generally couldn't collect it. A dollar +and a quarter a week would board, lodge, and school a boy in those old +simple days--and clothe him and wash him, too, for that matter. + +Judge Thatcher had conceived a great opinion of Tom. He said that no +commonplace boy would ever have got his daughter out of the cave. When +Becky told her father, in strict confidence, how Tom had taken her +whipping at school, the Judge was visibly moved; and when she pleaded +grace for the mighty lie which Tom had told in order to shift that +whipping from her shoulders to his own, the Judge said with a fine +outburst that it was a noble, a generous, a magnanimous lie--a lie that +was worthy to hold up its head and march down through history breast to +breast with George Washington's lauded Truth about the hatchet! Becky +thought her father had never looked so tall and so superb as when he +walked the floor and stamped his foot and said that. She went straight +off and told Tom about it. + +Judge Thatcher hoped to see Tom a great lawyer or a great soldier some +day. He said he meant to look to it that Tom should be admitted to the +National Military Academy and afterward trained in the best law school +in the country, in order that he might be ready for either career or +both. + +Huck Finn's wealth and the fact that he was now under the Widow Douglas' +protection introduced him into society--no, dragged him into it, hurled +him into it--and his sufferings were almost more than he could bear. The +widow's servants kept him clean and neat, combed and brushed, and they +bedded him nightly in unsympathetic sheets that had not one little spot +or stain which he could press to his heart and know for a friend. He had +to eat with a knife and fork; he had to use napkin, cup, and plate; +he had to learn his book, he had to go to church; he had to talk so +properly that speech was become insipid in his mouth; whithersoever he +turned, the bars and shackles of civilization shut him in and bound him +hand and foot. + +He bravely bore his miseries three weeks, and then one day turned up +missing. For forty-eight hours the widow hunted for him everywhere in +great distress. The public were profoundly concerned; they searched high +and low, they dragged the river for his body. Early the third morning +Tom Sawyer wisely went poking among some old empty hogsheads down behind +the abandoned slaughter-house, and in one of them he found the refugee. +Huck had slept there; he had just breakfasted upon some stolen odds and +ends of food, and was lying off, now, in comfort, with his pipe. He was +unkempt, uncombed, and clad in the same old ruin of rags that had made +him picturesque in the days when he was free and happy. Tom routed him +out, told him the trouble he had been causing, and urged him to go home. +Huck's face lost its tranquil content, and took a melancholy cast. He +said: + +"Don't talk about it, Tom. I've tried it, and it don't work; it don't +work, Tom. It ain't for me; I ain't used to it. The widder's good to me, +and friendly; but I can't stand them ways. She makes me get up just +at the same time every morning; she makes me wash, they comb me all +to thunder; she won't let me sleep in the woodshed; I got to wear them +blamed clothes that just smothers me, Tom; they don't seem to any air +git through 'em, somehow; and they're so rotten nice that I can't +set down, nor lay down, nor roll around anywher's; I hain't slid on a +cellar-door for--well, it 'pears to be years; I got to go to church +and sweat and sweat--I hate them ornery sermons! I can't ketch a fly in +there, I can't chaw. I got to wear shoes all Sunday. The widder eats by +a bell; she goes to bed by a bell; she gits up by a bell--everything's so +awful reg'lar a body can't stand it." + +"Well, everybody does that way, Huck." + +"Tom, it don't make no difference. I ain't everybody, and I can't +_stand_ it. It's awful to be tied up so. And grub comes too easy--I don't +take no interest in vittles, that way. I got to ask to go a-fishing; +I got to ask to go in a-swimming--dern'd if I hain't got to ask to do +everything. Well, I'd got to talk so nice it wasn't no comfort--I'd got +to go up in the attic and rip out awhile, every day, to git a taste +in my mouth, or I'd a died, Tom. The widder wouldn't let me smoke; +she wouldn't let me yell, she wouldn't let me gape, nor stretch, nor +scratch, before folks--" [Then with a spasm of special irritation and +injury]--"And dad fetch it, she prayed all the time! I never see such a +woman! I _had_ to shove, Tom--I just had to. And besides, that school's +going to open, and I'd a had to go to it--well, I wouldn't stand _that_, +Tom. Looky-here, Tom, being rich ain't what it's cracked up to be. It's +just worry and worry, and sweat and sweat, and a-wishing you was dead +all the time. Now these clothes suits me, and this bar'l suits me, and +I ain't ever going to shake 'em any more. Tom, I wouldn't ever got into +all this trouble if it hadn't 'a' ben for that money; now you just take +my sheer of it along with your'n, and gimme a ten-center sometimes--not +many times, becuz I don't give a dern for a thing 'thout it's tollable +hard to git--and you go and beg off for me with the widder." + +"Oh, Huck, you know I can't do that. 'Tain't fair; and besides if you'll +try this thing just a while longer you'll come to like it." + +"Like it! Yes--the way I'd like a hot stove if I was to set on it long +enough. No, Tom, I won't be rich, and I won't live in them cussed +smothery houses. I like the woods, and the river, and hogsheads, and +I'll stick to 'em, too. Blame it all! just as we'd got guns, and a cave, +and all just fixed to rob, here this dern foolishness has got to come up +and spile it all!" + +Tom saw his opportunity-- + +"Lookyhere, Huck, being rich ain't going to keep me back from turning +robber." + +"No! Oh, good-licks; are you in real dead-wood earnest, Tom?" + +"Just as dead earnest as I'm sitting here. But Huck, we can't let you +into the gang if you ain't respectable, you know." + +Huck's joy was quenched. + +"Can't let me in, Tom? Didn't you let me go for a pirate?" + +"Yes, but that's different. A robber is more high-toned than what a +pirate is--as a general thing. In most countries they're awful high up in +the nobility--dukes and such." + +"Now, Tom, hain't you always ben friendly to me? You wouldn't shet me +out, would you, Tom? You wouldn't do that, now, _would_ you, Tom?" + +"Huck, I wouldn't want to, and I _don't_ want to--but what would people +say? Why, they'd say, 'Mph! Tom Sawyer's Gang! pretty low characters in +it!' They'd mean you, Huck. You wouldn't like that, and I wouldn't." + +Huck was silent for some time, engaged in a mental struggle. Finally he +said: + +"Well, I'll go back to the widder for a month and tackle it and see if I +can come to stand it, if you'll let me b'long to the gang, Tom." + +"All right, Huck, it's a whiz! Come along, old chap, and I'll ask the +widow to let up on you a little, Huck." + +"Will you, Tom--now will you? That's good. If she'll let up on some of +the roughest things, I'll smoke private and cuss private, and crowd +through or bust. When you going to start the gang and turn robbers?" + +"Oh, right off. We'll get the boys together and have the initiation +tonight, maybe." + +"Have the which?" + +"Have the initiation." + +"What's that?" + +"It's to swear to stand by one another, and never tell the gang's +secrets, even if you're chopped all to flinders, and kill anybody and +all his family that hurts one of the gang." + +"That's gay--that's mighty gay, Tom, I tell you." + +"Well, I bet it is. And all that swearing's got to be done at midnight, +in the lonesomest, awfulest place you can find--a ha'nted house is the +best, but they're all ripped up now." + +"Well, midnight's good, anyway, Tom." + +"Yes, so it is. And you've got to swear on a coffin, and sign it with +blood." + +"Now, that's something _like_! Why, it's a million times bullier than +pirating. I'll stick to the widder till I rot, Tom; and if I git to be +a reg'lar ripper of a robber, and everybody talking 'bout it, I reckon +she'll be proud she snaked me in out of the wet." + +CONCLUSION + +SO endeth this chronicle. It being strictly a history of a _boy_, it +must stop here; the story could not go much further without becoming the +history of a _man_. When one writes a novel about grown people, he knows +exactly where to stop--that is, with a marriage; but when he writes of +juveniles, he must stop where he best can. + +Most of the characters that perform in this book still live, and are +prosperous and happy. Some day it may seem worth while to take up the +story of the younger ones again and see what sort of men and women they +turned out to be; therefore it will be wisest not to reveal any of that +part of their lives at present. + +End of the Project Gutenberg Ebook of Adventures of Tom Sawyer, +Complete, by Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM SAWYER *** + +***** This file should be named 74-h.htm or 74-h.zip ***** This and +all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.net/7/74/ + +Produced by David Widger. 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'***' FAILED TESTS IN TRIAL $i + exit 1 + fi +done +echo '***' PASSED ALL $i TESTING TRIALS diff --git a/src/main/test-mr.sh b/src/main/test-mr.sh new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1c20698 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/main/test-mr.sh @@ -0,0 +1,325 @@ +#!/usr/bin/env bash + +# +# map-reduce tests +# + +# un-comment this to run the tests with the Go race detector. +# RACE=-race + +if [[ "$OSTYPE" = "darwin"* ]] +then + if go version | grep 'go1.17.[012345]' + then + # -race with plug-ins on x86 MacOS 12 with + # go1.17 before 1.17.6 sometimes crash. + RACE= + echo '*** Turning off -race since it may not work on a Mac' + echo ' with ' `go version` + fi +fi + +TIMEOUT=timeout +if timeout 2s sleep 1 > /dev/null 2>&1 +then + : +else + if gtimeout 2s sleep 1 > /dev/null 2>&1 + then + TIMEOUT=gtimeout + else + # no timeout command + TIMEOUT= + echo '*** Cannot find timeout command; proceeding without timeouts.' + fi +fi +if [ "$TIMEOUT" != "" ] +then + TIMEOUT+=" -k 2s 180s " +fi + +# run the test in a fresh sub-directory. +rm -rf mr-tmp +mkdir mr-tmp || exit 1 +cd mr-tmp || exit 1 +rm -f mr-* + +# make sure software is freshly built. +(cd ../../mrapps && go clean) +(cd .. && go clean) +(cd ../../mrapps && go build $RACE -buildmode=plugin wc.go) || exit 1 +(cd ../../mrapps && go build $RACE -buildmode=plugin indexer.go) || exit 1 +(cd ../../mrapps && go build $RACE -buildmode=plugin mtiming.go) || exit 1 +(cd ../../mrapps && go build $RACE -buildmode=plugin rtiming.go) || exit 1 +(cd ../../mrapps && go build $RACE -buildmode=plugin jobcount.go) || exit 1 +(cd ../../mrapps && go build $RACE -buildmode=plugin early_exit.go) || exit 1 +(cd ../../mrapps && go build $RACE -buildmode=plugin crash.go) || exit 1 +(cd ../../mrapps && go build $RACE -buildmode=plugin nocrash.go) || exit 1 +(cd .. && go build $RACE mrcoordinator.go) || exit 1 +(cd .. && go build $RACE mrworker.go) || exit 1 +(cd .. && go build $RACE mrsequential.go) || exit 1 + +failed_any=0 + +######################################################### +# first word-count + +# generate the correct output +../mrsequential ../../mrapps/wc.so ../pg*txt || exit 1 +sort mr-out-0 > mr-correct-wc.txt +rm -f mr-out* + +echo '***' Starting wc test. + +$TIMEOUT ../mrcoordinator ../pg*txt & +pid=$! + +# give the coordinator time to create the sockets. +sleep 1 + +# start multiple workers. +$TIMEOUT ../mrworker ../../mrapps/wc.so & +$TIMEOUT ../mrworker ../../mrapps/wc.so & +$TIMEOUT ../mrworker ../../mrapps/wc.so & + +# wait for the coordinator to exit. +wait $pid + +# since workers are required to exit when a job is completely finished, +# and not before, that means the job has finished. +sort mr-out* | grep . > mr-wc-all +if cmp mr-wc-all mr-correct-wc.txt +then + echo '---' wc test: PASS +else + echo '---' wc output is not the same as mr-correct-wc.txt + echo '---' wc test: FAIL + failed_any=1 +fi + +# wait for remaining workers and coordinator to exit. +wait + +######################################################### +# now indexer +rm -f mr-* + +# generate the correct output +../mrsequential ../../mrapps/indexer.so ../pg*txt || exit 1 +sort mr-out-0 > mr-correct-indexer.txt +rm -f mr-out* + +echo '***' Starting indexer test. + +$TIMEOUT ../mrcoordinator ../pg*txt & +sleep 1 + +# start multiple workers +$TIMEOUT ../mrworker ../../mrapps/indexer.so & +$TIMEOUT ../mrworker ../../mrapps/indexer.so + +sort mr-out* | grep . > mr-indexer-all +if cmp mr-indexer-all mr-correct-indexer.txt +then + echo '---' indexer test: PASS +else + echo '---' indexer output is not the same as mr-correct-indexer.txt + echo '---' indexer test: FAIL + failed_any=1 +fi + +wait + +######################################################### +echo '***' Starting map parallelism test. + +rm -f mr-* + +$TIMEOUT ../mrcoordinator ../pg*txt & +sleep 1 + +$TIMEOUT ../mrworker ../../mrapps/mtiming.so & +$TIMEOUT ../mrworker ../../mrapps/mtiming.so + +NT=`cat mr-out* | grep '^times-' | wc -l | sed 's/ //g'` +if [ "$NT" != "2" ] +then + echo '---' saw "$NT" workers rather than 2 + echo '---' map parallelism test: FAIL + failed_any=1 +fi + +if cat mr-out* | grep '^parallel.* 2' > /dev/null +then + echo '---' map parallelism test: PASS +else + echo '---' map workers did not run in parallel + echo '---' map parallelism test: FAIL + failed_any=1 +fi + +wait + + +######################################################### +echo '***' Starting reduce parallelism test. + +rm -f mr-* + +$TIMEOUT ../mrcoordinator ../pg*txt & +sleep 1 + +$TIMEOUT ../mrworker ../../mrapps/rtiming.so & +$TIMEOUT ../mrworker ../../mrapps/rtiming.so + +NT=`cat mr-out* | grep '^[a-z] 2' | wc -l | sed 's/ //g'` +if [ "$NT" -lt "2" ] +then + echo '---' too few parallel reduces. + echo '---' reduce parallelism test: FAIL + failed_any=1 +else + echo '---' reduce parallelism test: PASS +fi + +wait + +######################################################### +echo '***' Starting job count test. + +rm -f mr-* + +$TIMEOUT ../mrcoordinator ../pg*txt & +sleep 1 + +$TIMEOUT ../mrworker ../../mrapps/jobcount.so & +$TIMEOUT ../mrworker ../../mrapps/jobcount.so +$TIMEOUT ../mrworker ../../mrapps/jobcount.so & +$TIMEOUT ../mrworker ../../mrapps/jobcount.so + +NT=`cat mr-out* | awk '{print $2}'` +if [ "$NT" -eq "8" ] +then + echo '---' job count test: PASS +else + echo '---' map jobs ran incorrect number of times "($NT != 8)" + echo '---' job count test: FAIL + failed_any=1 +fi + +wait + +######################################################### +# test whether any worker or coordinator exits before the +# task has completed (i.e., all output files have been finalized) +rm -f mr-* + +echo '***' Starting early exit test. + +DF=anydone$$ +rm -f $DF + +($TIMEOUT ../mrcoordinator ../pg*txt ; touch $DF) & + +# give the coordinator time to create the sockets. +sleep 1 + +# start multiple workers. +($TIMEOUT ../mrworker ../../mrapps/early_exit.so ; touch $DF) & +($TIMEOUT ../mrworker ../../mrapps/early_exit.so ; touch $DF) & +($TIMEOUT ../mrworker ../../mrapps/early_exit.so ; touch $DF) & + +# wait for any of the coord or workers to exit. +# `jobs` ensures that any completed old processes from other tests +# are not waited upon. +jobs &> /dev/null +if [[ "$OSTYPE" = "darwin"* ]] +then + # bash on the Mac doesn't have wait -n + while [ ! -e $DF ] + do + sleep 0.2 + done +else + # the -n causes wait to wait for just one child process, + # rather than waiting for all to finish. + wait -n +fi + +rm -f $DF + +# a process has exited. this means that the output should be finalized +# otherwise, either a worker or the coordinator exited early +sort mr-out* | grep . > mr-wc-all-initial + +# wait for remaining workers and coordinator to exit. +wait + +# compare initial and final outputs +sort mr-out* | grep . > mr-wc-all-final +if cmp mr-wc-all-final mr-wc-all-initial +then + echo '---' early exit test: PASS +else + echo '---' output changed after first worker exited + echo '---' early exit test: FAIL + failed_any=1 +fi +rm -f mr-* + +######################################################### +echo '***' Starting crash test. + +# generate the correct output +../mrsequential ../../mrapps/nocrash.so ../pg*txt || exit 1 +sort mr-out-0 > mr-correct-crash.txt +rm -f mr-out* + +rm -f mr-done +($TIMEOUT ../mrcoordinator ../pg*txt ; touch mr-done ) & +sleep 1 + +# start multiple workers +$TIMEOUT ../mrworker ../../mrapps/crash.so & + +# mimic rpc.go's coordinatorSock() +SOCKNAME=/var/tmp/5840-mr-`id -u` + +( while [ -e $SOCKNAME -a ! -f mr-done ] + do + $TIMEOUT ../mrworker ../../mrapps/crash.so + sleep 1 + done ) & + +( while [ -e $SOCKNAME -a ! -f mr-done ] + do + $TIMEOUT ../mrworker ../../mrapps/crash.so + sleep 1 + done ) & + +while [ -e $SOCKNAME -a ! -f mr-done ] +do + $TIMEOUT ../mrworker ../../mrapps/crash.so + sleep 1 +done + +wait + +rm $SOCKNAME +sort mr-out* | grep . > mr-crash-all +if cmp mr-crash-all mr-correct-crash.txt +then + echo '---' crash test: PASS +else + echo '---' crash output is not the same as mr-correct-crash.txt + echo '---' crash test: FAIL + failed_any=1 +fi + +######################################################### +if [ $failed_any -eq 0 ]; then + echo '***' PASSED ALL TESTS +else + echo '***' FAILED SOME TESTS + exit 1 +fi diff --git a/src/main/viewd.go b/src/main/viewd.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2ca2bd4 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/main/viewd.go @@ -0,0 +1,23 @@ +package main + +// +// see directions in pbc.go +// + +import "time" +import "6.5840/viewservice" +import "os" +import "fmt" + +func main() { + if len(os.Args) != 2 { + fmt.Printf("Usage: viewd port\n") + os.Exit(1) + } + + viewservice.StartServer(os.Args[1]) + + for { + time.Sleep(100 * time.Second) + } +} diff --git a/src/models/kv.go b/src/models/kv.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..61ed430 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/models/kv.go @@ -0,0 +1,69 @@ +package models + +import "6.5840/porcupine" +import "fmt" +import "sort" + +type KvInput struct { + Op uint8 // 0 => get, 1 => put, 2 => append + Key string + Value string +} + +type KvOutput struct { + Value string +} + +var KvModel = porcupine.Model{ + Partition: func(history []porcupine.Operation) [][]porcupine.Operation { + m := make(map[string][]porcupine.Operation) + for _, v := range history { + key := v.Input.(KvInput).Key + m[key] = append(m[key], v) + } + keys := make([]string, 0, len(m)) + for k := range m { + keys = append(keys, k) + } + sort.Strings(keys) + ret := make([][]porcupine.Operation, 0, len(keys)) + for _, k := range keys { + ret = append(ret, m[k]) + } + return ret + }, + Init: func() interface{} { + // note: we are modeling a single key's value here; + // we're partitioning by key, so this is okay + return "" + }, + Step: func(state, input, output interface{}) (bool, interface{}) { + inp := input.(KvInput) + out := output.(KvOutput) + st := state.(string) + if inp.Op == 0 { + // get + return out.Value == st, state + } else if inp.Op == 1 { + // put + return true, inp.Value + } else { + // append + return true, (st + inp.Value) + } + }, + DescribeOperation: func(input, output interface{}) string { + inp := input.(KvInput) + out := output.(KvOutput) + switch inp.Op { + case 0: + return fmt.Sprintf("get('%s') -> '%s'", inp.Key, out.Value) + case 1: + return fmt.Sprintf("put('%s', '%s')", inp.Key, inp.Value) + case 2: + return fmt.Sprintf("append('%s', '%s')", inp.Key, inp.Value) + default: + return "" + } + }, +} diff --git a/src/mr/coordinator.go b/src/mr/coordinator.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cafda57 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/mr/coordinator.go @@ -0,0 +1,70 @@ +package mr + +import "log" +import "net" +import "os" +import "net/rpc" +import "net/http" + + +type Coordinator struct { + // Your definitions here. + +} + +// Your code here -- RPC handlers for the worker to call. + +// +// an example RPC handler. +// +// the RPC argument and reply types are defined in rpc.go. +// +func (c *Coordinator) Example(args *ExampleArgs, reply *ExampleReply) error { + reply.Y = args.X + 1 + return nil +} + + +// +// start a thread that listens for RPCs from worker.go +// +func (c *Coordinator) server() { + rpc.Register(c) + rpc.HandleHTTP() + //l, e := net.Listen("tcp", ":1234") + sockname := coordinatorSock() + os.Remove(sockname) + l, e := net.Listen("unix", sockname) + if e != nil { + log.Fatal("listen error:", e) + } + go http.Serve(l, nil) +} + +// +// main/mrcoordinator.go calls Done() periodically to find out +// if the entire job has finished. +// +func (c *Coordinator) Done() bool { + ret := false + + // Your code here. + + + return ret +} + +// +// create a Coordinator. +// main/mrcoordinator.go calls this function. +// nReduce is the number of reduce tasks to use. +// +func MakeCoordinator(files []string, nReduce int) *Coordinator { + c := Coordinator{} + + // Your code here. + + + c.server() + return &c +} diff --git a/src/mr/rpc.go b/src/mr/rpc.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1f15466 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/mr/rpc.go @@ -0,0 +1,36 @@ +package mr + +// +// RPC definitions. +// +// remember to capitalize all names. +// + +import "os" +import "strconv" + +// +// example to show how to declare the arguments +// and reply for an RPC. +// + +type ExampleArgs struct { + X int +} + +type ExampleReply struct { + Y int +} + +// Add your RPC definitions here. + + +// Cook up a unique-ish UNIX-domain socket name +// in /var/tmp, for the coordinator. +// Can't use the current directory since +// Athena AFS doesn't support UNIX-domain sockets. +func coordinatorSock() string { + s := "/var/tmp/5840-mr-" + s += strconv.Itoa(os.Getuid()) + return s +} diff --git a/src/mr/worker.go b/src/mr/worker.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aaa8b64 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/mr/worker.go @@ -0,0 +1,91 @@ +package mr + +import "fmt" +import "log" +import "net/rpc" +import "hash/fnv" + + +// +// Map functions return a slice of KeyValue. +// +type KeyValue struct { + Key string + Value string +} + +// +// use ihash(key) % NReduce to choose the reduce +// task number for each KeyValue emitted by Map. +// +func ihash(key string) int { + h := fnv.New32a() + h.Write([]byte(key)) + return int(h.Sum32() & 0x7fffffff) +} + + +// +// main/mrworker.go calls this function. +// +func Worker(mapf func(string, string) []KeyValue, + reducef func(string, []string) string) { + + // Your worker implementation here. + + // uncomment to send the Example RPC to the coordinator. + // CallExample() + +} + +// +// example function to show how to make an RPC call to the coordinator. +// +// the RPC argument and reply types are defined in rpc.go. +// +func CallExample() { + + // declare an argument structure. + args := ExampleArgs{} + + // fill in the argument(s). + args.X = 99 + + // declare a reply structure. + reply := ExampleReply{} + + // send the RPC request, wait for the reply. + // the "Coordinator.Example" tells the + // receiving server that we'd like to call + // the Example() method of struct Coordinator. + ok := call("Coordinator.Example", &args, &reply) + if ok { + // reply.Y should be 100. + fmt.Printf("reply.Y %v\n", reply.Y) + } else { + fmt.Printf("call failed!\n") + } +} + +// +// send an RPC request to the coordinator, wait for the response. +// usually returns true. +// returns false if something goes wrong. +// +func call(rpcname string, args interface{}, reply interface{}) bool { + // c, err := rpc.DialHTTP("tcp", "127.0.0.1"+":1234") + sockname := coordinatorSock() + c, err := rpc.DialHTTP("unix", sockname) + if err != nil { + log.Fatal("dialing:", err) + } + defer c.Close() + + err = c.Call(rpcname, args, reply) + if err == nil { + return true + } + + fmt.Println(err) + return false +} diff --git a/src/mrapps/crash.go b/src/mrapps/crash.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5b9bc85 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/mrapps/crash.go @@ -0,0 +1,55 @@ +package main + +// +// a MapReduce pseudo-application that sometimes crashes, +// and sometimes takes a long time, +// to test MapReduce's ability to recover. +// +// go build -buildmode=plugin crash.go +// + +import "6.5840/mr" +import crand "crypto/rand" +import "math/big" +import "strings" +import "os" +import "sort" +import "strconv" +import "time" + +func maybeCrash() { + max := big.NewInt(1000) + rr, _ := crand.Int(crand.Reader, max) + if rr.Int64() < 330 { + // crash! + os.Exit(1) + } else if rr.Int64() < 660 { + // delay for a while. + maxms := big.NewInt(10 * 1000) + ms, _ := crand.Int(crand.Reader, maxms) + time.Sleep(time.Duration(ms.Int64()) * time.Millisecond) + } +} + +func Map(filename string, contents string) []mr.KeyValue { + maybeCrash() + + kva := []mr.KeyValue{} + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{"a", filename}) + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{"b", strconv.Itoa(len(filename))}) + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{"c", strconv.Itoa(len(contents))}) + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{"d", "xyzzy"}) + return kva +} + +func Reduce(key string, values []string) string { + maybeCrash() + + // sort values to ensure deterministic output. + vv := make([]string, len(values)) + copy(vv, values) + sort.Strings(vv) + + val := strings.Join(vv, " ") + return val +} diff --git a/src/mrapps/early_exit.go b/src/mrapps/early_exit.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f050234 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/mrapps/early_exit.go @@ -0,0 +1,36 @@ +package main + +// +// a word-count application "plugin" for MapReduce. +// +// go build -buildmode=plugin wc_long.go +// + +import ( + "strconv" + "strings" + "time" + + "6.5840/mr" +) + +// The map function is called once for each file of input. +// This map function just returns 1 for each file +func Map(filename string, contents string) []mr.KeyValue { + kva := []mr.KeyValue{} + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{filename, "1"}) + return kva +} + +// The reduce function is called once for each key generated by the +// map tasks, with a list of all the values created for that key by +// any map task. +func Reduce(key string, values []string) string { + // some reduce tasks sleep for a long time; potentially seeing if + // a worker will accidentally exit early + if strings.Contains(key, "sherlock") || strings.Contains(key, "tom") { + time.Sleep(time.Duration(3 * time.Second)) + } + // return the number of occurrences of this file. + return strconv.Itoa(len(values)) +} diff --git a/src/mrapps/indexer.go b/src/mrapps/indexer.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1fceddf --- /dev/null +++ b/src/mrapps/indexer.go @@ -0,0 +1,39 @@ +package main + +// +// an indexing application "plugin" for MapReduce. +// +// go build -buildmode=plugin indexer.go +// + +import "fmt" +import "6.5840/mr" + +import "strings" +import "unicode" +import "sort" + +// The mapping function is called once for each piece of the input. +// In this framework, the key is the name of the file that is being processed, +// and the value is the file's contents. The return value should be a slice of +// key/value pairs, each represented by a mr.KeyValue. +func Map(document string, value string) (res []mr.KeyValue) { + m := make(map[string]bool) + words := strings.FieldsFunc(value, func(x rune) bool { return !unicode.IsLetter(x) }) + for _, w := range words { + m[w] = true + } + for w := range m { + kv := mr.KeyValue{w, document} + res = append(res, kv) + } + return +} + +// The reduce function is called once for each key generated by Map, with a +// list of that key's string value (merged across all inputs). The return value +// should be a single output value for that key. +func Reduce(key string, values []string) string { + sort.Strings(values) + return fmt.Sprintf("%d %s", len(values), strings.Join(values, ",")) +} diff --git a/src/mrapps/jobcount.go b/src/mrapps/jobcount.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3472026 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/mrapps/jobcount.go @@ -0,0 +1,46 @@ +package main + +// +// a MapReduce pseudo-application that counts the number of times map/reduce +// tasks are run, to test whether jobs are assigned multiple times even when +// there is no failure. +// +// go build -buildmode=plugin crash.go +// + +import "6.5840/mr" +import "math/rand" +import "strings" +import "strconv" +import "time" +import "fmt" +import "os" +import "io/ioutil" + +var count int + +func Map(filename string, contents string) []mr.KeyValue { + me := os.Getpid() + f := fmt.Sprintf("mr-worker-jobcount-%d-%d", me, count) + count++ + err := ioutil.WriteFile(f, []byte("x"), 0666) + if err != nil { + panic(err) + } + time.Sleep(time.Duration(2000+rand.Intn(3000)) * time.Millisecond) + return []mr.KeyValue{mr.KeyValue{"a", "x"}} +} + +func Reduce(key string, values []string) string { + files, err := ioutil.ReadDir(".") + if err != nil { + panic(err) + } + invocations := 0 + for _, f := range files { + if strings.HasPrefix(f.Name(), "mr-worker-jobcount") { + invocations++ + } + } + return strconv.Itoa(invocations) +} diff --git a/src/mrapps/mtiming.go b/src/mrapps/mtiming.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d838510 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/mrapps/mtiming.go @@ -0,0 +1,91 @@ +package main + +// +// a MapReduce pseudo-application to test that workers +// execute map tasks in parallel. +// +// go build -buildmode=plugin mtiming.go +// + +import "6.5840/mr" +import "strings" +import "fmt" +import "os" +import "syscall" +import "time" +import "sort" +import "io/ioutil" + +func nparallel(phase string) int { + // create a file so that other workers will see that + // we're running at the same time as them. + pid := os.Getpid() + myfilename := fmt.Sprintf("mr-worker-%s-%d", phase, pid) + err := ioutil.WriteFile(myfilename, []byte("x"), 0666) + if err != nil { + panic(err) + } + + // are any other workers running? + // find their PIDs by scanning directory for mr-worker-XXX files. + dd, err := os.Open(".") + if err != nil { + panic(err) + } + names, err := dd.Readdirnames(1000000) + if err != nil { + panic(err) + } + ret := 0 + for _, name := range names { + var xpid int + pat := fmt.Sprintf("mr-worker-%s-%%d", phase) + n, err := fmt.Sscanf(name, pat, &xpid) + if n == 1 && err == nil { + err := syscall.Kill(xpid, 0) + if err == nil { + // if err == nil, xpid is alive. + ret += 1 + } + } + } + dd.Close() + + time.Sleep(1 * time.Second) + + err = os.Remove(myfilename) + if err != nil { + panic(err) + } + + return ret +} + +func Map(filename string, contents string) []mr.KeyValue { + t0 := time.Now() + ts := float64(t0.Unix()) + (float64(t0.Nanosecond()) / 1000000000.0) + pid := os.Getpid() + + n := nparallel("map") + + kva := []mr.KeyValue{} + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{ + fmt.Sprintf("times-%v", pid), + fmt.Sprintf("%.1f", ts)}) + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{ + fmt.Sprintf("parallel-%v", pid), + fmt.Sprintf("%d", n)}) + return kva +} + +func Reduce(key string, values []string) string { + //n := nparallel("reduce") + + // sort values to ensure deterministic output. + vv := make([]string, len(values)) + copy(vv, values) + sort.Strings(vv) + + val := strings.Join(vv, " ") + return val +} diff --git a/src/mrapps/nocrash.go b/src/mrapps/nocrash.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..11bbb87 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/mrapps/nocrash.go @@ -0,0 +1,47 @@ +package main + +// +// same as crash.go but doesn't actually crash. +// +// go build -buildmode=plugin nocrash.go +// + +import "6.5840/mr" +import crand "crypto/rand" +import "math/big" +import "strings" +import "os" +import "sort" +import "strconv" + +func maybeCrash() { + max := big.NewInt(1000) + rr, _ := crand.Int(crand.Reader, max) + if false && rr.Int64() < 500 { + // crash! + os.Exit(1) + } +} + +func Map(filename string, contents string) []mr.KeyValue { + maybeCrash() + + kva := []mr.KeyValue{} + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{"a", filename}) + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{"b", strconv.Itoa(len(filename))}) + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{"c", strconv.Itoa(len(contents))}) + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{"d", "xyzzy"}) + return kva +} + +func Reduce(key string, values []string) string { + maybeCrash() + + // sort values to ensure deterministic output. + vv := make([]string, len(values)) + copy(vv, values) + sort.Strings(vv) + + val := strings.Join(vv, " ") + return val +} diff --git a/src/mrapps/rtiming.go b/src/mrapps/rtiming.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..635f5e6 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/mrapps/rtiming.go @@ -0,0 +1,84 @@ +package main + +// +// a MapReduce pseudo-application to test that workers +// execute reduce tasks in parallel. +// +// go build -buildmode=plugin rtiming.go +// + +import "6.5840/mr" +import "fmt" +import "os" +import "syscall" +import "time" +import "io/ioutil" + +func nparallel(phase string) int { + // create a file so that other workers will see that + // we're running at the same time as them. + pid := os.Getpid() + myfilename := fmt.Sprintf("mr-worker-%s-%d", phase, pid) + err := ioutil.WriteFile(myfilename, []byte("x"), 0666) + if err != nil { + panic(err) + } + + // are any other workers running? + // find their PIDs by scanning directory for mr-worker-XXX files. + dd, err := os.Open(".") + if err != nil { + panic(err) + } + names, err := dd.Readdirnames(1000000) + if err != nil { + panic(err) + } + ret := 0 + for _, name := range names { + var xpid int + pat := fmt.Sprintf("mr-worker-%s-%%d", phase) + n, err := fmt.Sscanf(name, pat, &xpid) + if n == 1 && err == nil { + err := syscall.Kill(xpid, 0) + if err == nil { + // if err == nil, xpid is alive. + ret += 1 + } + } + } + dd.Close() + + time.Sleep(1 * time.Second) + + err = os.Remove(myfilename) + if err != nil { + panic(err) + } + + return ret +} + +func Map(filename string, contents string) []mr.KeyValue { + + kva := []mr.KeyValue{} + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{"a", "1"}) + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{"b", "1"}) + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{"c", "1"}) + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{"d", "1"}) + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{"e", "1"}) + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{"f", "1"}) + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{"g", "1"}) + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{"h", "1"}) + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{"i", "1"}) + kva = append(kva, mr.KeyValue{"j", "1"}) + return kva +} + +func Reduce(key string, values []string) string { + n := nparallel("reduce") + + val := fmt.Sprintf("%d", n) + + return val +} diff --git a/src/mrapps/wc.go b/src/mrapps/wc.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..32ce12e --- /dev/null +++ b/src/mrapps/wc.go @@ -0,0 +1,40 @@ +package main + +// +// a word-count application "plugin" for MapReduce. +// +// go build -buildmode=plugin wc.go +// + +import "6.5840/mr" +import "unicode" +import "strings" +import "strconv" + +// The map function is called once for each file of input. The first +// argument is the name of the input file, and the second is the +// file's complete contents. You should ignore the input file name, +// and look only at the contents argument. The return value is a slice +// of key/value pairs. +func Map(filename string, contents string) []mr.KeyValue { + // function to detect word separators. + ff := func(r rune) bool { return !unicode.IsLetter(r) } + + // split contents into an array of words. + words := strings.FieldsFunc(contents, ff) + + kva := []mr.KeyValue{} + for _, w := range words { + kv := mr.KeyValue{w, "1"} + kva = append(kva, kv) + } + return kva +} + +// The reduce function is called once for each key generated by the +// map tasks, with a list of all the values created for that key by +// any map task. +func Reduce(key string, values []string) string { + // return the number of occurrences of this word. + return strconv.Itoa(len(values)) +} diff --git a/src/porcupine/bitset.go b/src/porcupine/bitset.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..087744e --- /dev/null +++ b/src/porcupine/bitset.go @@ -0,0 +1,72 @@ +package porcupine + +import "math/bits" + +type bitset []uint64 + +// data layout: +// bits 0-63 are in data[0], the next are in data[1], etc. + +func newBitset(bits uint) bitset { + extra := uint(0) + if bits%64 != 0 { + extra = 1 + } + chunks := bits/64 + extra + return bitset(make([]uint64, chunks)) +} + +func (b bitset) clone() bitset { + dataCopy := make([]uint64, len(b)) + copy(dataCopy, b) + return bitset(dataCopy) +} + +func bitsetIndex(pos uint) (uint, uint) { + return pos / 64, pos % 64 +} + +func (b bitset) set(pos uint) bitset { + major, minor := bitsetIndex(pos) + b[major] |= (1 << minor) + return b +} + +func (b bitset) clear(pos uint) bitset { + major, minor := bitsetIndex(pos) + b[major] &^= (1 << minor) + return b +} + +func (b bitset) get(pos uint) bool { + major, minor := bitsetIndex(pos) + return b[major]&(1<= 0; i-- { + elem := entries[i] + if elem.kind == returnEntry { + entry := &node{value: elem.value, match: nil, id: elem.id} + match[elem.id] = entry + insertBefore(entry, root) + root = entry + } else { + entry := &node{value: elem.value, match: match[elem.id], id: elem.id} + insertBefore(entry, root) + root = entry + } + } + return root +} + +type cacheEntry struct { + linearized bitset + state interface{} +} + +func cacheContains(model Model, cache map[uint64][]cacheEntry, entry cacheEntry) bool { + for _, elem := range cache[entry.linearized.hash()] { + if entry.linearized.equals(elem.linearized) && model.Equal(entry.state, elem.state) { + return true + } + } + return false +} + +type callsEntry struct { + entry *node + state interface{} +} + +func lift(entry *node) { + entry.prev.next = entry.next + entry.next.prev = entry.prev + match := entry.match + match.prev.next = match.next + if match.next != nil { + match.next.prev = match.prev + } +} + +func unlift(entry *node) { + match := entry.match + match.prev.next = match + if match.next != nil { + match.next.prev = match + } + entry.prev.next = entry + entry.next.prev = entry +} + +func checkSingle(model Model, history []entry, computePartial bool, kill *int32) (bool, []*[]int) { + entry := makeLinkedEntries(history) + n := length(entry) / 2 + linearized := newBitset(uint(n)) + cache := make(map[uint64][]cacheEntry) // map from hash to cache entry + var calls []callsEntry + // longest linearizable prefix that includes the given entry + longest := make([]*[]int, n) + + state := model.Init() + headEntry := insertBefore(&node{value: nil, match: nil, id: -1}, entry) + for headEntry.next != nil { + if atomic.LoadInt32(kill) != 0 { + return false, longest + } + if entry.match != nil { + matching := entry.match // the return entry + ok, newState := model.Step(state, entry.value, matching.value) + if ok { + newLinearized := linearized.clone().set(uint(entry.id)) + newCacheEntry := cacheEntry{newLinearized, newState} + if !cacheContains(model, cache, newCacheEntry) { + hash := newLinearized.hash() + cache[hash] = append(cache[hash], newCacheEntry) + calls = append(calls, callsEntry{entry, state}) + state = newState + linearized.set(uint(entry.id)) + lift(entry) + entry = headEntry.next + } else { + entry = entry.next + } + } else { + entry = entry.next + } + } else { + if len(calls) == 0 { + return false, longest + } + // longest + if computePartial { + callsLen := len(calls) + var seq []int = nil + for _, v := range calls { + if longest[v.entry.id] == nil || callsLen > len(*longest[v.entry.id]) { + // create seq lazily + if seq == nil { + seq = make([]int, len(calls)) + for i, v := range calls { + seq[i] = v.entry.id + } + } + longest[v.entry.id] = &seq + } + } + } + callsTop := calls[len(calls)-1] + entry = callsTop.entry + state = callsTop.state + linearized.clear(uint(entry.id)) + calls = calls[:len(calls)-1] + unlift(entry) + entry = entry.next + } + } + // longest linearization is the complete linearization, which is calls + seq := make([]int, len(calls)) + for i, v := range calls { + seq[i] = v.entry.id + } + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + longest[i] = &seq + } + return true, longest +} + +func fillDefault(model Model) Model { + if model.Partition == nil { + model.Partition = NoPartition + } + if model.PartitionEvent == nil { + model.PartitionEvent = NoPartitionEvent + } + if model.Equal == nil { + model.Equal = ShallowEqual + } + if model.DescribeOperation == nil { + model.DescribeOperation = DefaultDescribeOperation + } + if model.DescribeState == nil { + model.DescribeState = DefaultDescribeState + } + return model +} + +func checkParallel(model Model, history [][]entry, computeInfo bool, timeout time.Duration) (CheckResult, linearizationInfo) { + ok := true + timedOut := false + results := make(chan bool, len(history)) + longest := make([][]*[]int, len(history)) + kill := int32(0) + for i, subhistory := range history { + go func(i int, subhistory []entry) { + ok, l := checkSingle(model, subhistory, computeInfo, &kill) + longest[i] = l + results <- ok + }(i, subhistory) + } + var timeoutChan <-chan time.Time + if timeout > 0 { + timeoutChan = time.After(timeout) + } + count := 0 +loop: + for { + select { + case result := <-results: + count++ + ok = ok && result + if !ok && !computeInfo { + atomic.StoreInt32(&kill, 1) + break loop + } + if count >= len(history) { + break loop + } + case <-timeoutChan: + timedOut = true + atomic.StoreInt32(&kill, 1) + break loop // if we time out, we might get a false positive + } + } + var info linearizationInfo + if computeInfo { + // make sure we've waited for all goroutines to finish, + // otherwise we might race on access to longest[] + for count < len(history) { + <-results + count++ + } + // return longest linearizable prefixes that include each history element + partialLinearizations := make([][][]int, len(history)) + for i := 0; i < len(history); i++ { + var partials [][]int + // turn longest into a set of unique linearizations + set := make(map[*[]int]struct{}) + for _, v := range longest[i] { + if v != nil { + set[v] = struct{}{} + } + } + for k := range set { + arr := make([]int, len(*k)) + for i, v := range *k { + arr[i] = v + } + partials = append(partials, arr) + } + partialLinearizations[i] = partials + } + info.history = history + info.partialLinearizations = partialLinearizations + } + var result CheckResult + if !ok { + result = Illegal + } else { + if timedOut { + result = Unknown + } else { + result = Ok + } + } + return result, info +} + +func checkEvents(model Model, history []Event, verbose bool, timeout time.Duration) (CheckResult, linearizationInfo) { + model = fillDefault(model) + partitions := model.PartitionEvent(history) + l := make([][]entry, len(partitions)) + for i, subhistory := range partitions { + l[i] = convertEntries(renumber(subhistory)) + } + return checkParallel(model, l, verbose, timeout) +} + +func checkOperations(model Model, history []Operation, verbose bool, timeout time.Duration) (CheckResult, linearizationInfo) { + model = fillDefault(model) + partitions := model.Partition(history) + l := make([][]entry, len(partitions)) + for i, subhistory := range partitions { + l[i] = makeEntries(subhistory) + } + return checkParallel(model, l, verbose, timeout) +} diff --git a/src/porcupine/model.go b/src/porcupine/model.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ba3d21c --- /dev/null +++ b/src/porcupine/model.go @@ -0,0 +1,77 @@ +package porcupine + +import "fmt" + +type Operation struct { + ClientId int // optional, unless you want a visualization; zero-indexed + Input interface{} + Call int64 // invocation time + Output interface{} + Return int64 // response time +} + +type EventKind bool + +const ( + CallEvent EventKind = false + ReturnEvent EventKind = true +) + +type Event struct { + ClientId int // optional, unless you want a visualization; zero-indexed + Kind EventKind + Value interface{} + Id int +} + +type Model struct { + // Partition functions, such that a history is linearizable if and only + // if each partition is linearizable. If you don't want to implement + // this, you can always use the `NoPartition` functions implemented + // below. + Partition func(history []Operation) [][]Operation + PartitionEvent func(history []Event) [][]Event + // Initial state of the system. + Init func() interface{} + // Step function for the system. Returns whether or not the system + // could take this step with the given inputs and outputs and also + // returns the new state. This should not mutate the existing state. + Step func(state interface{}, input interface{}, output interface{}) (bool, interface{}) + // Equality on states. If you are using a simple data type for states, + // you can use the `ShallowEqual` function implemented below. + Equal func(state1, state2 interface{}) bool + // For visualization, describe an operation as a string. + // For example, "Get('x') -> 'y'". + DescribeOperation func(input interface{}, output interface{}) string + // For visualization purposes, describe a state as a string. + // For example, "{'x' -> 'y', 'z' -> 'w'}" + DescribeState func(state interface{}) string +} + +func NoPartition(history []Operation) [][]Operation { + return [][]Operation{history} +} + +func NoPartitionEvent(history []Event) [][]Event { + return [][]Event{history} +} + +func ShallowEqual(state1, state2 interface{}) bool { + return state1 == state2 +} + +func DefaultDescribeOperation(input interface{}, output interface{}) string { + return fmt.Sprintf("%v -> %v", input, output) +} + +func DefaultDescribeState(state interface{}) string { + return fmt.Sprintf("%v", state) +} + +type CheckResult string + +const ( + Unknown CheckResult = "Unknown" // timed out + Ok = "Ok" + Illegal = "Illegal" +) diff --git a/src/porcupine/porcupine.go b/src/porcupine/porcupine.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..eb3b0f3 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/porcupine/porcupine.go @@ -0,0 +1,39 @@ +package porcupine + +import "time" + +func CheckOperations(model Model, history []Operation) bool { + res, _ := checkOperations(model, history, false, 0) + return res == Ok +} + +// timeout = 0 means no timeout +// if this operation times out, then a false positive is possible +func CheckOperationsTimeout(model Model, history []Operation, timeout time.Duration) CheckResult { + res, _ := checkOperations(model, history, false, timeout) + return res +} + +// timeout = 0 means no timeout +// if this operation times out, then a false positive is possible +func CheckOperationsVerbose(model Model, history []Operation, timeout time.Duration) (CheckResult, linearizationInfo) { + return checkOperations(model, history, true, timeout) +} + +func CheckEvents(model Model, history []Event) bool { + res, _ := checkEvents(model, history, false, 0) + return res == Ok +} + +// timeout = 0 means no timeout +// if this operation times out, then a false positive is possible +func CheckEventsTimeout(model Model, history []Event, timeout time.Duration) CheckResult { + res, _ := checkEvents(model, history, false, timeout) + return res +} + +// timeout = 0 means no timeout +// if this operation times out, then a false positive is possible +func CheckEventsVerbose(model Model, history []Event, timeout time.Duration) (CheckResult, linearizationInfo) { + return checkEvents(model, history, true, timeout) +} diff --git a/src/porcupine/visualization.go b/src/porcupine/visualization.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..43e3a17 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/porcupine/visualization.go @@ -0,0 +1,897 @@ +package porcupine + +import ( + "encoding/json" + "fmt" + "io" + "os" + "sort" +) + +type historyElement struct { + ClientId int + Start int64 + End int64 + Description string +} + +type linearizationStep struct { + Index int + StateDescription string +} + +type partialLinearization = []linearizationStep + +type partitionVisualizationData struct { + History []historyElement + PartialLinearizations []partialLinearization + Largest map[int]int +} + +type visualizationData = []partitionVisualizationData + +func computeVisualizationData(model Model, info linearizationInfo) visualizationData { + model = fillDefault(model) + data := make(visualizationData, len(info.history)) + for partition := 0; partition < len(info.history); partition++ { + // history + n := len(info.history[partition]) / 2 + history := make([]historyElement, n) + callValue := make(map[int]interface{}) + returnValue := make(map[int]interface{}) + for _, elem := range info.history[partition] { + switch elem.kind { + case callEntry: + history[elem.id].ClientId = elem.clientId + history[elem.id].Start = elem.time + callValue[elem.id] = elem.value + case returnEntry: + history[elem.id].End = elem.time + history[elem.id].Description = model.DescribeOperation(callValue[elem.id], elem.value) + returnValue[elem.id] = elem.value + } + } + // partial linearizations + largestIndex := make(map[int]int) + largestSize := make(map[int]int) + linearizations := make([]partialLinearization, len(info.partialLinearizations[partition])) + partials := info.partialLinearizations[partition] + sort.Slice(partials, func(i, j int) bool { + return len(partials[i]) > len(partials[j]) + }) + for i, partial := range partials { + linearization := make(partialLinearization, len(partial)) + state := model.Init() + for j, histId := range partial { + var ok bool + ok, state = model.Step(state, callValue[histId], returnValue[histId]) + if ok != true { + panic("valid partial linearization returned non-ok result from model step") + } + stateDesc := model.DescribeState(state) + linearization[j] = linearizationStep{histId, stateDesc} + if largestSize[histId] < len(partial) { + largestSize[histId] = len(partial) + largestIndex[histId] = i + } + } + linearizations[i] = linearization + } + data[partition] = partitionVisualizationData{ + History: history, + PartialLinearizations: linearizations, + Largest: largestIndex, + } + } + return data +} + +func Visualize(model Model, info linearizationInfo, output io.Writer) error { + data := computeVisualizationData(model, info) + jsonData, err := json.Marshal(data) + if err != nil { + return err + } + _, err = fmt.Fprintf(output, html, jsonData) + if err != nil { + return err + } + return nil +} + +func VisualizePath(model Model, info linearizationInfo, path string) error { + f, err := os.Create(path) + if err != nil { + return err + } + defer f.Close() + return Visualize(model, info, f) +} + +const html = ` + + + Porcupine + + + +
+ + Clients + + Time + + + + Valid LP + + Invalid LP + [ jump to first error ] + +
+
+
+
+
+ + + +` diff --git a/src/raft/config.go b/src/raft/config.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fafb0c1 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/raft/config.go @@ -0,0 +1,648 @@ +package raft + +// +// support for Raft tester. +// +// we will use the original config.go to test your code for grading. +// so, while you can modify this code to help you debug, please +// test with the original before submitting. +// + +import "6.5840/labgob" +import "6.5840/labrpc" +import "bytes" +import "log" +import "sync" +import "sync/atomic" +import "testing" +import "runtime" +import "math/rand" +import crand "crypto/rand" +import "math/big" +import "encoding/base64" +import "time" +import "fmt" + +func randstring(n int) string { + b := make([]byte, 2*n) + crand.Read(b) + s := base64.URLEncoding.EncodeToString(b) + return s[0:n] +} + +func makeSeed() int64 { + max := big.NewInt(int64(1) << 62) + bigx, _ := crand.Int(crand.Reader, max) + x := bigx.Int64() + return x +} + +type config struct { + mu sync.Mutex + t *testing.T + finished int32 + net *labrpc.Network + n int + rafts []*Raft + applyErr []string // from apply channel readers + connected []bool // whether each server is on the net + saved []*Persister + endnames [][]string // the port file names each sends to + logs []map[int]interface{} // copy of each server's committed entries + lastApplied []int + start time.Time // time at which make_config() was called + // begin()/end() statistics + t0 time.Time // time at which test_test.go called cfg.begin() + rpcs0 int // rpcTotal() at start of test + cmds0 int // number of agreements + bytes0 int64 + maxIndex int + maxIndex0 int +} + +var ncpu_once sync.Once + +func make_config(t *testing.T, n int, unreliable bool, snapshot bool) *config { + ncpu_once.Do(func() { + if runtime.NumCPU() < 2 { + fmt.Printf("warning: only one CPU, which may conceal locking bugs\n") + } + rand.Seed(makeSeed()) + }) + runtime.GOMAXPROCS(4) + cfg := &config{} + cfg.t = t + cfg.net = labrpc.MakeNetwork() + cfg.n = n + cfg.applyErr = make([]string, cfg.n) + cfg.rafts = make([]*Raft, cfg.n) + cfg.connected = make([]bool, cfg.n) + cfg.saved = make([]*Persister, cfg.n) + cfg.endnames = make([][]string, cfg.n) + cfg.logs = make([]map[int]interface{}, cfg.n) + cfg.lastApplied = make([]int, cfg.n) + cfg.start = time.Now() + + cfg.setunreliable(unreliable) + + cfg.net.LongDelays(true) + + applier := cfg.applier + if snapshot { + applier = cfg.applierSnap + } + // create a full set of Rafts. + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + cfg.logs[i] = map[int]interface{}{} + cfg.start1(i, applier) + } + + // connect everyone + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + cfg.connect(i) + } + + return cfg +} + +// shut down a Raft server but save its persistent state. +func (cfg *config) crash1(i int) { + cfg.disconnect(i) + cfg.net.DeleteServer(i) // disable client connections to the server. + + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + + // a fresh persister, in case old instance + // continues to update the Persister. + // but copy old persister's content so that we always + // pass Make() the last persisted state. + if cfg.saved[i] != nil { + cfg.saved[i] = cfg.saved[i].Copy() + } + + rf := cfg.rafts[i] + if rf != nil { + cfg.mu.Unlock() + rf.Kill() + cfg.mu.Lock() + cfg.rafts[i] = nil + } + + if cfg.saved[i] != nil { + raftlog := cfg.saved[i].ReadRaftState() + snapshot := cfg.saved[i].ReadSnapshot() + cfg.saved[i] = &Persister{} + cfg.saved[i].Save(raftlog, snapshot) + } +} + +func (cfg *config) checkLogs(i int, m ApplyMsg) (string, bool) { + err_msg := "" + v := m.Command + for j := 0; j < len(cfg.logs); j++ { + if old, oldok := cfg.logs[j][m.CommandIndex]; oldok && old != v { + log.Printf("%v: log %v; server %v\n", i, cfg.logs[i], cfg.logs[j]) + // some server has already committed a different value for this entry! + err_msg = fmt.Sprintf("commit index=%v server=%v %v != server=%v %v", + m.CommandIndex, i, m.Command, j, old) + } + } + _, prevok := cfg.logs[i][m.CommandIndex-1] + cfg.logs[i][m.CommandIndex] = v + if m.CommandIndex > cfg.maxIndex { + cfg.maxIndex = m.CommandIndex + } + return err_msg, prevok +} + +// applier reads message from apply ch and checks that they match the log +// contents +func (cfg *config) applier(i int, applyCh chan ApplyMsg) { + for m := range applyCh { + if m.CommandValid == false { + // ignore other types of ApplyMsg + } else { + cfg.mu.Lock() + err_msg, prevok := cfg.checkLogs(i, m) + cfg.mu.Unlock() + if m.CommandIndex > 1 && prevok == false { + err_msg = fmt.Sprintf("server %v apply out of order %v", i, m.CommandIndex) + } + if err_msg != "" { + log.Fatalf("apply error: %v", err_msg) + cfg.applyErr[i] = err_msg + // keep reading after error so that Raft doesn't block + // holding locks... + } + } + } +} + +// returns "" or error string +func (cfg *config) ingestSnap(i int, snapshot []byte, index int) string { + if snapshot == nil { + log.Fatalf("nil snapshot") + return "nil snapshot" + } + r := bytes.NewBuffer(snapshot) + d := labgob.NewDecoder(r) + var lastIncludedIndex int + var xlog []interface{} + if d.Decode(&lastIncludedIndex) != nil || + d.Decode(&xlog) != nil { + log.Fatalf("snapshot decode error") + return "snapshot Decode() error" + } + if index != -1 && index != lastIncludedIndex { + err := fmt.Sprintf("server %v snapshot doesn't match m.SnapshotIndex", i) + return err + } + cfg.logs[i] = map[int]interface{}{} + for j := 0; j < len(xlog); j++ { + cfg.logs[i][j] = xlog[j] + } + cfg.lastApplied[i] = lastIncludedIndex + return "" +} + +const SnapShotInterval = 10 + +// periodically snapshot raft state +func (cfg *config) applierSnap(i int, applyCh chan ApplyMsg) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + rf := cfg.rafts[i] + cfg.mu.Unlock() + if rf == nil { + return // ??? + } + + for m := range applyCh { + err_msg := "" + if m.SnapshotValid { + cfg.mu.Lock() + err_msg = cfg.ingestSnap(i, m.Snapshot, m.SnapshotIndex) + cfg.mu.Unlock() + } else if m.CommandValid { + if m.CommandIndex != cfg.lastApplied[i]+1 { + err_msg = fmt.Sprintf("server %v apply out of order, expected index %v, got %v", i, cfg.lastApplied[i]+1, m.CommandIndex) + } + + if err_msg == "" { + cfg.mu.Lock() + var prevok bool + err_msg, prevok = cfg.checkLogs(i, m) + cfg.mu.Unlock() + if m.CommandIndex > 1 && prevok == false { + err_msg = fmt.Sprintf("server %v apply out of order %v", i, m.CommandIndex) + } + } + + cfg.mu.Lock() + cfg.lastApplied[i] = m.CommandIndex + cfg.mu.Unlock() + + if (m.CommandIndex+1)%SnapShotInterval == 0 { + w := new(bytes.Buffer) + e := labgob.NewEncoder(w) + e.Encode(m.CommandIndex) + var xlog []interface{} + for j := 0; j <= m.CommandIndex; j++ { + xlog = append(xlog, cfg.logs[i][j]) + } + e.Encode(xlog) + rf.Snapshot(m.CommandIndex, w.Bytes()) + } + } else { + // Ignore other types of ApplyMsg. + } + if err_msg != "" { + log.Fatalf("apply error: %v", err_msg) + cfg.applyErr[i] = err_msg + // keep reading after error so that Raft doesn't block + // holding locks... + } + } +} + +// start or re-start a Raft. +// if one already exists, "kill" it first. +// allocate new outgoing port file names, and a new +// state persister, to isolate previous instance of +// this server. since we cannot really kill it. +func (cfg *config) start1(i int, applier func(int, chan ApplyMsg)) { + cfg.crash1(i) + + // a fresh set of outgoing ClientEnd names. + // so that old crashed instance's ClientEnds can't send. + cfg.endnames[i] = make([]string, cfg.n) + for j := 0; j < cfg.n; j++ { + cfg.endnames[i][j] = randstring(20) + } + + // a fresh set of ClientEnds. + ends := make([]*labrpc.ClientEnd, cfg.n) + for j := 0; j < cfg.n; j++ { + ends[j] = cfg.net.MakeEnd(cfg.endnames[i][j]) + cfg.net.Connect(cfg.endnames[i][j], j) + } + + cfg.mu.Lock() + + cfg.lastApplied[i] = 0 + + // a fresh persister, so old instance doesn't overwrite + // new instance's persisted state. + // but copy old persister's content so that we always + // pass Make() the last persisted state. + if cfg.saved[i] != nil { + cfg.saved[i] = cfg.saved[i].Copy() + + snapshot := cfg.saved[i].ReadSnapshot() + if snapshot != nil && len(snapshot) > 0 { + // mimic KV server and process snapshot now. + // ideally Raft should send it up on applyCh... + err := cfg.ingestSnap(i, snapshot, -1) + if err != "" { + cfg.t.Fatal(err) + } + } + } else { + cfg.saved[i] = MakePersister() + } + + cfg.mu.Unlock() + + applyCh := make(chan ApplyMsg) + + rf := Make(ends, i, cfg.saved[i], applyCh) + + cfg.mu.Lock() + cfg.rafts[i] = rf + cfg.mu.Unlock() + + go applier(i, applyCh) + + svc := labrpc.MakeService(rf) + srv := labrpc.MakeServer() + srv.AddService(svc) + cfg.net.AddServer(i, srv) +} + +func (cfg *config) checkTimeout() { + // enforce a two minute real-time limit on each test + if !cfg.t.Failed() && time.Since(cfg.start) > 120*time.Second { + cfg.t.Fatal("test took longer than 120 seconds") + } +} + +func (cfg *config) checkFinished() bool { + z := atomic.LoadInt32(&cfg.finished) + return z != 0 +} + +func (cfg *config) cleanup() { + atomic.StoreInt32(&cfg.finished, 1) + for i := 0; i < len(cfg.rafts); i++ { + if cfg.rafts[i] != nil { + cfg.rafts[i].Kill() + } + } + cfg.net.Cleanup() + cfg.checkTimeout() +} + +// attach server i to the net. +func (cfg *config) connect(i int) { + // fmt.Printf("connect(%d)\n", i) + + cfg.connected[i] = true + + // outgoing ClientEnds + for j := 0; j < cfg.n; j++ { + if cfg.connected[j] { + endname := cfg.endnames[i][j] + cfg.net.Enable(endname, true) + } + } + + // incoming ClientEnds + for j := 0; j < cfg.n; j++ { + if cfg.connected[j] { + endname := cfg.endnames[j][i] + cfg.net.Enable(endname, true) + } + } +} + +// detach server i from the net. +func (cfg *config) disconnect(i int) { + // fmt.Printf("disconnect(%d)\n", i) + + cfg.connected[i] = false + + // outgoing ClientEnds + for j := 0; j < cfg.n; j++ { + if cfg.endnames[i] != nil { + endname := cfg.endnames[i][j] + cfg.net.Enable(endname, false) + } + } + + // incoming ClientEnds + for j := 0; j < cfg.n; j++ { + if cfg.endnames[j] != nil { + endname := cfg.endnames[j][i] + cfg.net.Enable(endname, false) + } + } +} + +func (cfg *config) rpcCount(server int) int { + return cfg.net.GetCount(server) +} + +func (cfg *config) rpcTotal() int { + return cfg.net.GetTotalCount() +} + +func (cfg *config) setunreliable(unrel bool) { + cfg.net.Reliable(!unrel) +} + +func (cfg *config) bytesTotal() int64 { + return cfg.net.GetTotalBytes() +} + +func (cfg *config) setlongreordering(longrel bool) { + cfg.net.LongReordering(longrel) +} + +// check that one of the connected servers thinks +// it is the leader, and that no other connected +// server thinks otherwise. +// +// try a few times in case re-elections are needed. +func (cfg *config) checkOneLeader() int { + for iters := 0; iters < 10; iters++ { + ms := 450 + (rand.Int63() % 100) + time.Sleep(time.Duration(ms) * time.Millisecond) + + leaders := make(map[int][]int) + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + if cfg.connected[i] { + if term, leader := cfg.rafts[i].GetState(); leader { + leaders[term] = append(leaders[term], i) + } + } + } + + lastTermWithLeader := -1 + for term, leaders := range leaders { + if len(leaders) > 1 { + cfg.t.Fatalf("term %d has %d (>1) leaders", term, len(leaders)) + } + if term > lastTermWithLeader { + lastTermWithLeader = term + } + } + + if len(leaders) != 0 { + return leaders[lastTermWithLeader][0] + } + } + cfg.t.Fatalf("expected one leader, got none") + return -1 +} + +// check that everyone agrees on the term. +func (cfg *config) checkTerms() int { + term := -1 + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + if cfg.connected[i] { + xterm, _ := cfg.rafts[i].GetState() + if term == -1 { + term = xterm + } else if term != xterm { + cfg.t.Fatalf("servers disagree on term") + } + } + } + return term +} + +// check that none of the connected servers +// thinks it is the leader. +func (cfg *config) checkNoLeader() { + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + if cfg.connected[i] { + _, is_leader := cfg.rafts[i].GetState() + if is_leader { + cfg.t.Fatalf("expected no leader among connected servers, but %v claims to be leader", i) + } + } + } +} + +// how many servers think a log entry is committed? +func (cfg *config) nCommitted(index int) (int, interface{}) { + count := 0 + var cmd interface{} = nil + for i := 0; i < len(cfg.rafts); i++ { + if cfg.applyErr[i] != "" { + cfg.t.Fatal(cfg.applyErr[i]) + } + + cfg.mu.Lock() + cmd1, ok := cfg.logs[i][index] + cfg.mu.Unlock() + + if ok { + if count > 0 && cmd != cmd1 { + cfg.t.Fatalf("committed values do not match: index %v, %v, %v", + index, cmd, cmd1) + } + count += 1 + cmd = cmd1 + } + } + return count, cmd +} + +// wait for at least n servers to commit. +// but don't wait forever. +func (cfg *config) wait(index int, n int, startTerm int) interface{} { + to := 10 * time.Millisecond + for iters := 0; iters < 30; iters++ { + nd, _ := cfg.nCommitted(index) + if nd >= n { + break + } + time.Sleep(to) + if to < time.Second { + to *= 2 + } + if startTerm > -1 { + for _, r := range cfg.rafts { + if t, _ := r.GetState(); t > startTerm { + // someone has moved on + // can no longer guarantee that we'll "win" + return -1 + } + } + } + } + nd, cmd := cfg.nCommitted(index) + if nd < n { + cfg.t.Fatalf("only %d decided for index %d; wanted %d", + nd, index, n) + } + return cmd +} + +// do a complete agreement. +// it might choose the wrong leader initially, +// and have to re-submit after giving up. +// entirely gives up after about 10 seconds. +// indirectly checks that the servers agree on the +// same value, since nCommitted() checks this, +// as do the threads that read from applyCh. +// returns index. +// if retry==true, may submit the command multiple +// times, in case a leader fails just after Start(). +// if retry==false, calls Start() only once, in order +// to simplify the early Lab 2B tests. +func (cfg *config) one(cmd interface{}, expectedServers int, retry bool) int { + t0 := time.Now() + starts := 0 + for time.Since(t0).Seconds() < 10 && cfg.checkFinished() == false { + // try all the servers, maybe one is the leader. + index := -1 + for si := 0; si < cfg.n; si++ { + starts = (starts + 1) % cfg.n + var rf *Raft + cfg.mu.Lock() + if cfg.connected[starts] { + rf = cfg.rafts[starts] + } + cfg.mu.Unlock() + if rf != nil { + index1, _, ok := rf.Start(cmd) + if ok { + index = index1 + break + } + } + } + + if index != -1 { + // somebody claimed to be the leader and to have + // submitted our command; wait a while for agreement. + t1 := time.Now() + for time.Since(t1).Seconds() < 2 { + nd, cmd1 := cfg.nCommitted(index) + if nd > 0 && nd >= expectedServers { + // committed + if cmd1 == cmd { + // and it was the command we submitted. + return index + } + } + time.Sleep(20 * time.Millisecond) + } + if retry == false { + cfg.t.Fatalf("one(%v) failed to reach agreement", cmd) + } + } else { + time.Sleep(50 * time.Millisecond) + } + } + if cfg.checkFinished() == false { + cfg.t.Fatalf("one(%v) failed to reach agreement", cmd) + } + return -1 +} + +// start a Test. +// print the Test message. +// e.g. cfg.begin("Test (2B): RPC counts aren't too high") +func (cfg *config) begin(description string) { + fmt.Printf("%s ...\n", description) + cfg.t0 = time.Now() + cfg.rpcs0 = cfg.rpcTotal() + cfg.bytes0 = cfg.bytesTotal() + cfg.cmds0 = 0 + cfg.maxIndex0 = cfg.maxIndex +} + +// end a Test -- the fact that we got here means there +// was no failure. +// print the Passed message, +// and some performance numbers. +func (cfg *config) end() { + cfg.checkTimeout() + if cfg.t.Failed() == false { + cfg.mu.Lock() + t := time.Since(cfg.t0).Seconds() // real time + npeers := cfg.n // number of Raft peers + nrpc := cfg.rpcTotal() - cfg.rpcs0 // number of RPC sends + nbytes := cfg.bytesTotal() - cfg.bytes0 // number of bytes + ncmds := cfg.maxIndex - cfg.maxIndex0 // number of Raft agreements reported + cfg.mu.Unlock() + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed --") + fmt.Printf(" %4.1f %d %4d %7d %4d\n", t, npeers, nrpc, nbytes, ncmds) + } +} + +// Maximum log size across all servers +func (cfg *config) LogSize() int { + logsize := 0 + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + n := cfg.saved[i].RaftStateSize() + if n > logsize { + logsize = n + } + } + return logsize +} diff --git a/src/raft/persister.go b/src/raft/persister.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c5f816c --- /dev/null +++ b/src/raft/persister.go @@ -0,0 +1,70 @@ +package raft + +// +// support for Raft and kvraft to save persistent +// Raft state (log &c) and k/v server snapshots. +// +// we will use the original persister.go to test your code for grading. +// so, while you can modify this code to help you debug, please +// test with the original before submitting. +// + +import "sync" + +type Persister struct { + mu sync.Mutex + raftstate []byte + snapshot []byte +} + +func MakePersister() *Persister { + return &Persister{} +} + +func clone(orig []byte) []byte { + x := make([]byte, len(orig)) + copy(x, orig) + return x +} + +func (ps *Persister) Copy() *Persister { + ps.mu.Lock() + defer ps.mu.Unlock() + np := MakePersister() + np.raftstate = ps.raftstate + np.snapshot = ps.snapshot + return np +} + +func (ps *Persister) ReadRaftState() []byte { + ps.mu.Lock() + defer ps.mu.Unlock() + return clone(ps.raftstate) +} + +func (ps *Persister) RaftStateSize() int { + ps.mu.Lock() + defer ps.mu.Unlock() + return len(ps.raftstate) +} + +// Save both Raft state and K/V snapshot as a single atomic action, +// to help avoid them getting out of sync. +func (ps *Persister) Save(raftstate []byte, snapshot []byte) { + ps.mu.Lock() + defer ps.mu.Unlock() + ps.raftstate = clone(raftstate) + ps.snapshot = clone(snapshot) +} + +func (ps *Persister) ReadSnapshot() []byte { + ps.mu.Lock() + defer ps.mu.Unlock() + return clone(ps.snapshot) +} + +func (ps *Persister) SnapshotSize() int { + ps.mu.Lock() + defer ps.mu.Unlock() + return len(ps.snapshot) +} diff --git a/src/raft/raft.go b/src/raft/raft.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ab54ff6 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/raft/raft.go @@ -0,0 +1,259 @@ +package raft + +// +// this is an outline of the API that raft must expose to +// the service (or tester). see comments below for +// each of these functions for more details. +// +// rf = Make(...) +// create a new Raft server. +// rf.Start(command interface{}) (index, term, isleader) +// start agreement on a new log entry +// rf.GetState() (term, isLeader) +// ask a Raft for its current term, and whether it thinks it is leader +// ApplyMsg +// each time a new entry is committed to the log, each Raft peer +// should send an ApplyMsg to the service (or tester) +// in the same server. +// + +import ( + // "bytes" + "math/rand" + "sync" + "sync/atomic" + "time" + + // "6.5840/labgob" + "6.5840/labrpc" +) + + +// as each Raft peer becomes aware that successive log entries are +// committed, the peer should send an ApplyMsg to the service (or +// tester) on the same server, via the applyCh passed to Make(). set +// CommandValid to true to indicate that the ApplyMsg contains a newly +// committed log entry. +// +// in part 2D you'll want to send other kinds of messages (e.g., +// snapshots) on the applyCh, but set CommandValid to false for these +// other uses. +type ApplyMsg struct { + CommandValid bool + Command interface{} + CommandIndex int + + // For 2D: + SnapshotValid bool + Snapshot []byte + SnapshotTerm int + SnapshotIndex int +} + +// A Go object implementing a single Raft peer. +type Raft struct { + mu sync.Mutex // Lock to protect shared access to this peer's state + peers []*labrpc.ClientEnd // RPC end points of all peers + persister *Persister // Object to hold this peer's persisted state + me int // this peer's index into peers[] + dead int32 // set by Kill() + + // Your data here (2A, 2B, 2C). + // Look at the paper's Figure 2 for a description of what + // state a Raft server must maintain. + +} + +// return currentTerm and whether this server +// believes it is the leader. +func (rf *Raft) GetState() (int, bool) { + + var term int + var isleader bool + // Your code here (2A). + return term, isleader +} + +// save Raft's persistent state to stable storage, +// where it can later be retrieved after a crash and restart. +// see paper's Figure 2 for a description of what should be persistent. +// before you've implemented snapshots, you should pass nil as the +// second argument to persister.Save(). +// after you've implemented snapshots, pass the current snapshot +// (or nil if there's not yet a snapshot). +func (rf *Raft) persist() { + // Your code here (2C). + // Example: + // w := new(bytes.Buffer) + // e := labgob.NewEncoder(w) + // e.Encode(rf.xxx) + // e.Encode(rf.yyy) + // raftstate := w.Bytes() + // rf.persister.Save(raftstate, nil) +} + + +// restore previously persisted state. +func (rf *Raft) readPersist(data []byte) { + if data == nil || len(data) < 1 { // bootstrap without any state? + return + } + // Your code here (2C). + // Example: + // r := bytes.NewBuffer(data) + // d := labgob.NewDecoder(r) + // var xxx + // var yyy + // if d.Decode(&xxx) != nil || + // d.Decode(&yyy) != nil { + // error... + // } else { + // rf.xxx = xxx + // rf.yyy = yyy + // } +} + + +// the service says it has created a snapshot that has +// all info up to and including index. this means the +// service no longer needs the log through (and including) +// that index. Raft should now trim its log as much as possible. +func (rf *Raft) Snapshot(index int, snapshot []byte) { + // Your code here (2D). + +} + + +// example RequestVote RPC arguments structure. +// field names must start with capital letters! +type RequestVoteArgs struct { + // Your data here (2A, 2B). +} + +// example RequestVote RPC reply structure. +// field names must start with capital letters! +type RequestVoteReply struct { + // Your data here (2A). +} + +// example RequestVote RPC handler. +func (rf *Raft) RequestVote(args *RequestVoteArgs, reply *RequestVoteReply) { + // Your code here (2A, 2B). +} + +// example code to send a RequestVote RPC to a server. +// server is the index of the target server in rf.peers[]. +// expects RPC arguments in args. +// fills in *reply with RPC reply, so caller should +// pass &reply. +// the types of the args and reply passed to Call() must be +// the same as the types of the arguments declared in the +// handler function (including whether they are pointers). +// +// The labrpc package simulates a lossy network, in which servers +// may be unreachable, and in which requests and replies may be lost. +// Call() sends a request and waits for a reply. If a reply arrives +// within a timeout interval, Call() returns true; otherwise +// Call() returns false. Thus Call() may not return for a while. +// A false return can be caused by a dead server, a live server that +// can't be reached, a lost request, or a lost reply. +// +// Call() is guaranteed to return (perhaps after a delay) *except* if the +// handler function on the server side does not return. Thus there +// is no need to implement your own timeouts around Call(). +// +// look at the comments in ../labrpc/labrpc.go for more details. +// +// if you're having trouble getting RPC to work, check that you've +// capitalized all field names in structs passed over RPC, and +// that the caller passes the address of the reply struct with &, not +// the struct itself. +func (rf *Raft) sendRequestVote(server int, args *RequestVoteArgs, reply *RequestVoteReply) bool { + ok := rf.peers[server].Call("Raft.RequestVote", args, reply) + return ok +} + + +// the service using Raft (e.g. a k/v server) wants to start +// agreement on the next command to be appended to Raft's log. if this +// server isn't the leader, returns false. otherwise start the +// agreement and return immediately. there is no guarantee that this +// command will ever be committed to the Raft log, since the leader +// may fail or lose an election. even if the Raft instance has been killed, +// this function should return gracefully. +// +// the first return value is the index that the command will appear at +// if it's ever committed. the second return value is the current +// term. the third return value is true if this server believes it is +// the leader. +func (rf *Raft) Start(command interface{}) (int, int, bool) { + index := -1 + term := -1 + isLeader := true + + // Your code here (2B). + + + return index, term, isLeader +} + +// the tester doesn't halt goroutines created by Raft after each test, +// but it does call the Kill() method. your code can use killed() to +// check whether Kill() has been called. the use of atomic avoids the +// need for a lock. +// +// the issue is that long-running goroutines use memory and may chew +// up CPU time, perhaps causing later tests to fail and generating +// confusing debug output. any goroutine with a long-running loop +// should call killed() to check whether it should stop. +func (rf *Raft) Kill() { + atomic.StoreInt32(&rf.dead, 1) + // Your code here, if desired. +} + +func (rf *Raft) killed() bool { + z := atomic.LoadInt32(&rf.dead) + return z == 1 +} + +func (rf *Raft) ticker() { + for rf.killed() == false { + + // Your code here (2A) + // Check if a leader election should be started. + + + // pause for a random amount of time between 50 and 350 + // milliseconds. + ms := 50 + (rand.Int63() % 300) + time.Sleep(time.Duration(ms) * time.Millisecond) + } +} + +// the service or tester wants to create a Raft server. the ports +// of all the Raft servers (including this one) are in peers[]. this +// server's port is peers[me]. all the servers' peers[] arrays +// have the same order. persister is a place for this server to +// save its persistent state, and also initially holds the most +// recent saved state, if any. applyCh is a channel on which the +// tester or service expects Raft to send ApplyMsg messages. +// Make() must return quickly, so it should start goroutines +// for any long-running work. +func Make(peers []*labrpc.ClientEnd, me int, + persister *Persister, applyCh chan ApplyMsg) *Raft { + rf := &Raft{} + rf.peers = peers + rf.persister = persister + rf.me = me + + // Your initialization code here (2A, 2B, 2C). + + // initialize from state persisted before a crash + rf.readPersist(persister.ReadRaftState()) + + // start ticker goroutine to start elections + go rf.ticker() + + + return rf +} diff --git a/src/raft/test_test.go b/src/raft/test_test.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0072301 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/raft/test_test.go @@ -0,0 +1,1224 @@ +package raft + +// +// Raft tests. +// +// we will use the original test_test.go to test your code for grading. +// so, while you can modify this code to help you debug, please +// test with the original before submitting. +// + +import "testing" +import "fmt" +import "time" +import "math/rand" +import "sync/atomic" +import "sync" + +// The tester generously allows solutions to complete elections in one second +// (much more than the paper's range of timeouts). +const RaftElectionTimeout = 1000 * time.Millisecond + +func TestInitialElection2A(t *testing.T) { + servers := 3 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, false, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin("Test (2A): initial election") + + // is a leader elected? + cfg.checkOneLeader() + + // sleep a bit to avoid racing with followers learning of the + // election, then check that all peers agree on the term. + time.Sleep(50 * time.Millisecond) + term1 := cfg.checkTerms() + if term1 < 1 { + t.Fatalf("term is %v, but should be at least 1", term1) + } + + // does the leader+term stay the same if there is no network failure? + time.Sleep(2 * RaftElectionTimeout) + term2 := cfg.checkTerms() + if term1 != term2 { + fmt.Printf("warning: term changed even though there were no failures") + } + + // there should still be a leader. + cfg.checkOneLeader() + + cfg.end() +} + +func TestReElection2A(t *testing.T) { + servers := 3 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, false, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin("Test (2A): election after network failure") + + leader1 := cfg.checkOneLeader() + + // if the leader disconnects, a new one should be elected. + cfg.disconnect(leader1) + cfg.checkOneLeader() + + // if the old leader rejoins, that shouldn't + // disturb the new leader. and the old leader + // should switch to follower. + cfg.connect(leader1) + leader2 := cfg.checkOneLeader() + + // if there's no quorum, no new leader should + // be elected. + cfg.disconnect(leader2) + cfg.disconnect((leader2 + 1) % servers) + time.Sleep(2 * RaftElectionTimeout) + + // check that the one connected server + // does not think it is the leader. + cfg.checkNoLeader() + + // if a quorum arises, it should elect a leader. + cfg.connect((leader2 + 1) % servers) + cfg.checkOneLeader() + + // re-join of last node shouldn't prevent leader from existing. + cfg.connect(leader2) + cfg.checkOneLeader() + + cfg.end() +} + +func TestManyElections2A(t *testing.T) { + servers := 7 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, false, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin("Test (2A): multiple elections") + + cfg.checkOneLeader() + + iters := 10 + for ii := 1; ii < iters; ii++ { + // disconnect three nodes + i1 := rand.Int() % servers + i2 := rand.Int() % servers + i3 := rand.Int() % servers + cfg.disconnect(i1) + cfg.disconnect(i2) + cfg.disconnect(i3) + + // either the current leader should still be alive, + // or the remaining four should elect a new one. + cfg.checkOneLeader() + + cfg.connect(i1) + cfg.connect(i2) + cfg.connect(i3) + } + + cfg.checkOneLeader() + + cfg.end() +} + +func TestBasicAgree2B(t *testing.T) { + servers := 3 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, false, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin("Test (2B): basic agreement") + + iters := 3 + for index := 1; index < iters+1; index++ { + nd, _ := cfg.nCommitted(index) + if nd > 0 { + t.Fatalf("some have committed before Start()") + } + + xindex := cfg.one(index*100, servers, false) + if xindex != index { + t.Fatalf("got index %v but expected %v", xindex, index) + } + } + + cfg.end() +} + +// check, based on counting bytes of RPCs, that +// each command is sent to each peer just once. +func TestRPCBytes2B(t *testing.T) { + servers := 3 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, false, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin("Test (2B): RPC byte count") + + cfg.one(99, servers, false) + bytes0 := cfg.bytesTotal() + + iters := 10 + var sent int64 = 0 + for index := 2; index < iters+2; index++ { + cmd := randstring(5000) + xindex := cfg.one(cmd, servers, false) + if xindex != index { + t.Fatalf("got index %v but expected %v", xindex, index) + } + sent += int64(len(cmd)) + } + + bytes1 := cfg.bytesTotal() + got := bytes1 - bytes0 + expected := int64(servers) * sent + if got > expected+50000 { + t.Fatalf("too many RPC bytes; got %v, expected %v", got, expected) + } + + cfg.end() +} + +// test just failure of followers. +func TestFollowerFailure2B(t *testing.T) { + servers := 3 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, false, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin("Test (2B): test progressive failure of followers") + + cfg.one(101, servers, false) + + // disconnect one follower from the network. + leader1 := cfg.checkOneLeader() + cfg.disconnect((leader1 + 1) % servers) + + // the leader and remaining follower should be + // able to agree despite the disconnected follower. + cfg.one(102, servers-1, false) + time.Sleep(RaftElectionTimeout) + cfg.one(103, servers-1, false) + + // disconnect the remaining follower + leader2 := cfg.checkOneLeader() + cfg.disconnect((leader2 + 1) % servers) + cfg.disconnect((leader2 + 2) % servers) + + // submit a command. + index, _, ok := cfg.rafts[leader2].Start(104) + if ok != true { + t.Fatalf("leader rejected Start()") + } + if index != 4 { + t.Fatalf("expected index 4, got %v", index) + } + + time.Sleep(2 * RaftElectionTimeout) + + // check that command 104 did not commit. + n, _ := cfg.nCommitted(index) + if n > 0 { + t.Fatalf("%v committed but no majority", n) + } + + cfg.end() +} + +// test just failure of leaders. +func TestLeaderFailure2B(t *testing.T) { + servers := 3 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, false, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin("Test (2B): test failure of leaders") + + cfg.one(101, servers, false) + + // disconnect the first leader. + leader1 := cfg.checkOneLeader() + cfg.disconnect(leader1) + + // the remaining followers should elect + // a new leader. + cfg.one(102, servers-1, false) + time.Sleep(RaftElectionTimeout) + cfg.one(103, servers-1, false) + + // disconnect the new leader. + leader2 := cfg.checkOneLeader() + cfg.disconnect(leader2) + + // submit a command to each server. + for i := 0; i < servers; i++ { + cfg.rafts[i].Start(104) + } + + time.Sleep(2 * RaftElectionTimeout) + + // check that command 104 did not commit. + n, _ := cfg.nCommitted(4) + if n > 0 { + t.Fatalf("%v committed but no majority", n) + } + + cfg.end() +} + +// test that a follower participates after +// disconnect and re-connect. +func TestFailAgree2B(t *testing.T) { + servers := 3 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, false, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin("Test (2B): agreement after follower reconnects") + + cfg.one(101, servers, false) + + // disconnect one follower from the network. + leader := cfg.checkOneLeader() + cfg.disconnect((leader + 1) % servers) + + // the leader and remaining follower should be + // able to agree despite the disconnected follower. + cfg.one(102, servers-1, false) + cfg.one(103, servers-1, false) + time.Sleep(RaftElectionTimeout) + cfg.one(104, servers-1, false) + cfg.one(105, servers-1, false) + + // re-connect + cfg.connect((leader + 1) % servers) + + // the full set of servers should preserve + // previous agreements, and be able to agree + // on new commands. + cfg.one(106, servers, true) + time.Sleep(RaftElectionTimeout) + cfg.one(107, servers, true) + + cfg.end() +} + +func TestFailNoAgree2B(t *testing.T) { + servers := 5 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, false, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin("Test (2B): no agreement if too many followers disconnect") + + cfg.one(10, servers, false) + + // 3 of 5 followers disconnect + leader := cfg.checkOneLeader() + cfg.disconnect((leader + 1) % servers) + cfg.disconnect((leader + 2) % servers) + cfg.disconnect((leader + 3) % servers) + + index, _, ok := cfg.rafts[leader].Start(20) + if ok != true { + t.Fatalf("leader rejected Start()") + } + if index != 2 { + t.Fatalf("expected index 2, got %v", index) + } + + time.Sleep(2 * RaftElectionTimeout) + + n, _ := cfg.nCommitted(index) + if n > 0 { + t.Fatalf("%v committed but no majority", n) + } + + // repair + cfg.connect((leader + 1) % servers) + cfg.connect((leader + 2) % servers) + cfg.connect((leader + 3) % servers) + + // the disconnected majority may have chosen a leader from + // among their own ranks, forgetting index 2. + leader2 := cfg.checkOneLeader() + index2, _, ok2 := cfg.rafts[leader2].Start(30) + if ok2 == false { + t.Fatalf("leader2 rejected Start()") + } + if index2 < 2 || index2 > 3 { + t.Fatalf("unexpected index %v", index2) + } + + cfg.one(1000, servers, true) + + cfg.end() +} + +func TestConcurrentStarts2B(t *testing.T) { + servers := 3 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, false, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin("Test (2B): concurrent Start()s") + + var success bool +loop: + for try := 0; try < 5; try++ { + if try > 0 { + // give solution some time to settle + time.Sleep(3 * time.Second) + } + + leader := cfg.checkOneLeader() + _, term, ok := cfg.rafts[leader].Start(1) + if !ok { + // leader moved on really quickly + continue + } + + iters := 5 + var wg sync.WaitGroup + is := make(chan int, iters) + for ii := 0; ii < iters; ii++ { + wg.Add(1) + go func(i int) { + defer wg.Done() + i, term1, ok := cfg.rafts[leader].Start(100 + i) + if term1 != term { + return + } + if ok != true { + return + } + is <- i + }(ii) + } + + wg.Wait() + close(is) + + for j := 0; j < servers; j++ { + if t, _ := cfg.rafts[j].GetState(); t != term { + // term changed -- can't expect low RPC counts + continue loop + } + } + + failed := false + cmds := []int{} + for index := range is { + cmd := cfg.wait(index, servers, term) + if ix, ok := cmd.(int); ok { + if ix == -1 { + // peers have moved on to later terms + // so we can't expect all Start()s to + // have succeeded + failed = true + break + } + cmds = append(cmds, ix) + } else { + t.Fatalf("value %v is not an int", cmd) + } + } + + if failed { + // avoid leaking goroutines + go func() { + for range is { + } + }() + continue + } + + for ii := 0; ii < iters; ii++ { + x := 100 + ii + ok := false + for j := 0; j < len(cmds); j++ { + if cmds[j] == x { + ok = true + } + } + if ok == false { + t.Fatalf("cmd %v missing in %v", x, cmds) + } + } + + success = true + break + } + + if !success { + t.Fatalf("term changed too often") + } + + cfg.end() +} + +func TestRejoin2B(t *testing.T) { + servers := 3 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, false, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin("Test (2B): rejoin of partitioned leader") + + cfg.one(101, servers, true) + + // leader network failure + leader1 := cfg.checkOneLeader() + cfg.disconnect(leader1) + + // make old leader try to agree on some entries + cfg.rafts[leader1].Start(102) + cfg.rafts[leader1].Start(103) + cfg.rafts[leader1].Start(104) + + // new leader commits, also for index=2 + cfg.one(103, 2, true) + + // new leader network failure + leader2 := cfg.checkOneLeader() + cfg.disconnect(leader2) + + // old leader connected again + cfg.connect(leader1) + + cfg.one(104, 2, true) + + // all together now + cfg.connect(leader2) + + cfg.one(105, servers, true) + + cfg.end() +} + +func TestBackup2B(t *testing.T) { + servers := 5 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, false, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin("Test (2B): leader backs up quickly over incorrect follower logs") + + cfg.one(rand.Int(), servers, true) + + // put leader and one follower in a partition + leader1 := cfg.checkOneLeader() + cfg.disconnect((leader1 + 2) % servers) + cfg.disconnect((leader1 + 3) % servers) + cfg.disconnect((leader1 + 4) % servers) + + // submit lots of commands that won't commit + for i := 0; i < 50; i++ { + cfg.rafts[leader1].Start(rand.Int()) + } + + time.Sleep(RaftElectionTimeout / 2) + + cfg.disconnect((leader1 + 0) % servers) + cfg.disconnect((leader1 + 1) % servers) + + // allow other partition to recover + cfg.connect((leader1 + 2) % servers) + cfg.connect((leader1 + 3) % servers) + cfg.connect((leader1 + 4) % servers) + + // lots of successful commands to new group. + for i := 0; i < 50; i++ { + cfg.one(rand.Int(), 3, true) + } + + // now another partitioned leader and one follower + leader2 := cfg.checkOneLeader() + other := (leader1 + 2) % servers + if leader2 == other { + other = (leader2 + 1) % servers + } + cfg.disconnect(other) + + // lots more commands that won't commit + for i := 0; i < 50; i++ { + cfg.rafts[leader2].Start(rand.Int()) + } + + time.Sleep(RaftElectionTimeout / 2) + + // bring original leader back to life, + for i := 0; i < servers; i++ { + cfg.disconnect(i) + } + cfg.connect((leader1 + 0) % servers) + cfg.connect((leader1 + 1) % servers) + cfg.connect(other) + + // lots of successful commands to new group. + for i := 0; i < 50; i++ { + cfg.one(rand.Int(), 3, true) + } + + // now everyone + for i := 0; i < servers; i++ { + cfg.connect(i) + } + cfg.one(rand.Int(), servers, true) + + cfg.end() +} + +func TestCount2B(t *testing.T) { + servers := 3 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, false, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin("Test (2B): RPC counts aren't too high") + + rpcs := func() (n int) { + for j := 0; j < servers; j++ { + n += cfg.rpcCount(j) + } + return + } + + leader := cfg.checkOneLeader() + + total1 := rpcs() + + if total1 > 30 || total1 < 1 { + t.Fatalf("too many or few RPCs (%v) to elect initial leader\n", total1) + } + + var total2 int + var success bool +loop: + for try := 0; try < 5; try++ { + if try > 0 { + // give solution some time to settle + time.Sleep(3 * time.Second) + } + + leader = cfg.checkOneLeader() + total1 = rpcs() + + iters := 10 + starti, term, ok := cfg.rafts[leader].Start(1) + if !ok { + // leader moved on really quickly + continue + } + cmds := []int{} + for i := 1; i < iters+2; i++ { + x := int(rand.Int31()) + cmds = append(cmds, x) + index1, term1, ok := cfg.rafts[leader].Start(x) + if term1 != term { + // Term changed while starting + continue loop + } + if !ok { + // No longer the leader, so term has changed + continue loop + } + if starti+i != index1 { + t.Fatalf("Start() failed") + } + } + + for i := 1; i < iters+1; i++ { + cmd := cfg.wait(starti+i, servers, term) + if ix, ok := cmd.(int); ok == false || ix != cmds[i-1] { + if ix == -1 { + // term changed -- try again + continue loop + } + t.Fatalf("wrong value %v committed for index %v; expected %v\n", cmd, starti+i, cmds) + } + } + + failed := false + total2 = 0 + for j := 0; j < servers; j++ { + if t, _ := cfg.rafts[j].GetState(); t != term { + // term changed -- can't expect low RPC counts + // need to keep going to update total2 + failed = true + } + total2 += cfg.rpcCount(j) + } + + if failed { + continue loop + } + + if total2-total1 > (iters+1+3)*3 { + t.Fatalf("too many RPCs (%v) for %v entries\n", total2-total1, iters) + } + + success = true + break + } + + if !success { + t.Fatalf("term changed too often") + } + + time.Sleep(RaftElectionTimeout) + + total3 := 0 + for j := 0; j < servers; j++ { + total3 += cfg.rpcCount(j) + } + + if total3-total2 > 3*20 { + t.Fatalf("too many RPCs (%v) for 1 second of idleness\n", total3-total2) + } + + cfg.end() +} + +func TestPersist12C(t *testing.T) { + servers := 3 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, false, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin("Test (2C): basic persistence") + + cfg.one(11, servers, true) + + // crash and re-start all + for i := 0; i < servers; i++ { + cfg.start1(i, cfg.applier) + } + for i := 0; i < servers; i++ { + cfg.disconnect(i) + cfg.connect(i) + } + + cfg.one(12, servers, true) + + leader1 := cfg.checkOneLeader() + cfg.disconnect(leader1) + cfg.start1(leader1, cfg.applier) + cfg.connect(leader1) + + cfg.one(13, servers, true) + + leader2 := cfg.checkOneLeader() + cfg.disconnect(leader2) + cfg.one(14, servers-1, true) + cfg.start1(leader2, cfg.applier) + cfg.connect(leader2) + + cfg.wait(4, servers, -1) // wait for leader2 to join before killing i3 + + i3 := (cfg.checkOneLeader() + 1) % servers + cfg.disconnect(i3) + cfg.one(15, servers-1, true) + cfg.start1(i3, cfg.applier) + cfg.connect(i3) + + cfg.one(16, servers, true) + + cfg.end() +} + +func TestPersist22C(t *testing.T) { + servers := 5 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, false, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin("Test (2C): more persistence") + + index := 1 + for iters := 0; iters < 5; iters++ { + cfg.one(10+index, servers, true) + index++ + + leader1 := cfg.checkOneLeader() + + cfg.disconnect((leader1 + 1) % servers) + cfg.disconnect((leader1 + 2) % servers) + + cfg.one(10+index, servers-2, true) + index++ + + cfg.disconnect((leader1 + 0) % servers) + cfg.disconnect((leader1 + 3) % servers) + cfg.disconnect((leader1 + 4) % servers) + + cfg.start1((leader1+1)%servers, cfg.applier) + cfg.start1((leader1+2)%servers, cfg.applier) + cfg.connect((leader1 + 1) % servers) + cfg.connect((leader1 + 2) % servers) + + time.Sleep(RaftElectionTimeout) + + cfg.start1((leader1+3)%servers, cfg.applier) + cfg.connect((leader1 + 3) % servers) + + cfg.one(10+index, servers-2, true) + index++ + + cfg.connect((leader1 + 4) % servers) + cfg.connect((leader1 + 0) % servers) + } + + cfg.one(1000, servers, true) + + cfg.end() +} + +func TestPersist32C(t *testing.T) { + servers := 3 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, false, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin("Test (2C): partitioned leader and one follower crash, leader restarts") + + cfg.one(101, 3, true) + + leader := cfg.checkOneLeader() + cfg.disconnect((leader + 2) % servers) + + cfg.one(102, 2, true) + + cfg.crash1((leader + 0) % servers) + cfg.crash1((leader + 1) % servers) + cfg.connect((leader + 2) % servers) + cfg.start1((leader+0)%servers, cfg.applier) + cfg.connect((leader + 0) % servers) + + cfg.one(103, 2, true) + + cfg.start1((leader+1)%servers, cfg.applier) + cfg.connect((leader + 1) % servers) + + cfg.one(104, servers, true) + + cfg.end() +} + +// Test the scenarios described in Figure 8 of the extended Raft paper. Each +// iteration asks a leader, if there is one, to insert a command in the Raft +// log. If there is a leader, that leader will fail quickly with a high +// probability (perhaps without committing the command), or crash after a while +// with low probability (most likey committing the command). If the number of +// alive servers isn't enough to form a majority, perhaps start a new server. +// The leader in a new term may try to finish replicating log entries that +// haven't been committed yet. +func TestFigure82C(t *testing.T) { + servers := 5 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, false, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin("Test (2C): Figure 8") + + cfg.one(rand.Int(), 1, true) + + nup := servers + for iters := 0; iters < 1000; iters++ { + leader := -1 + for i := 0; i < servers; i++ { + if cfg.rafts[i] != nil { + _, _, ok := cfg.rafts[i].Start(rand.Int()) + if ok { + leader = i + } + } + } + + if (rand.Int() % 1000) < 100 { + ms := rand.Int63() % (int64(RaftElectionTimeout/time.Millisecond) / 2) + time.Sleep(time.Duration(ms) * time.Millisecond) + } else { + ms := (rand.Int63() % 13) + time.Sleep(time.Duration(ms) * time.Millisecond) + } + + if leader != -1 { + cfg.crash1(leader) + nup -= 1 + } + + if nup < 3 { + s := rand.Int() % servers + if cfg.rafts[s] == nil { + cfg.start1(s, cfg.applier) + cfg.connect(s) + nup += 1 + } + } + } + + for i := 0; i < servers; i++ { + if cfg.rafts[i] == nil { + cfg.start1(i, cfg.applier) + cfg.connect(i) + } + } + + cfg.one(rand.Int(), servers, true) + + cfg.end() +} + +func TestUnreliableAgree2C(t *testing.T) { + servers := 5 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, true, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin("Test (2C): unreliable agreement") + + var wg sync.WaitGroup + + for iters := 1; iters < 50; iters++ { + for j := 0; j < 4; j++ { + wg.Add(1) + go func(iters, j int) { + defer wg.Done() + cfg.one((100*iters)+j, 1, true) + }(iters, j) + } + cfg.one(iters, 1, true) + } + + cfg.setunreliable(false) + + wg.Wait() + + cfg.one(100, servers, true) + + cfg.end() +} + +func TestFigure8Unreliable2C(t *testing.T) { + servers := 5 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, true, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin("Test (2C): Figure 8 (unreliable)") + + cfg.one(rand.Int()%10000, 1, true) + + nup := servers + for iters := 0; iters < 1000; iters++ { + if iters == 200 { + cfg.setlongreordering(true) + } + leader := -1 + for i := 0; i < servers; i++ { + _, _, ok := cfg.rafts[i].Start(rand.Int() % 10000) + if ok && cfg.connected[i] { + leader = i + } + } + + if (rand.Int() % 1000) < 100 { + ms := rand.Int63() % (int64(RaftElectionTimeout/time.Millisecond) / 2) + time.Sleep(time.Duration(ms) * time.Millisecond) + } else { + ms := (rand.Int63() % 13) + time.Sleep(time.Duration(ms) * time.Millisecond) + } + + if leader != -1 && (rand.Int()%1000) < int(RaftElectionTimeout/time.Millisecond)/2 { + cfg.disconnect(leader) + nup -= 1 + } + + if nup < 3 { + s := rand.Int() % servers + if cfg.connected[s] == false { + cfg.connect(s) + nup += 1 + } + } + } + + for i := 0; i < servers; i++ { + if cfg.connected[i] == false { + cfg.connect(i) + } + } + + cfg.one(rand.Int()%10000, servers, true) + + cfg.end() +} + +func internalChurn(t *testing.T, unreliable bool) { + + servers := 5 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, unreliable, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + if unreliable { + cfg.begin("Test (2C): unreliable churn") + } else { + cfg.begin("Test (2C): churn") + } + + stop := int32(0) + + // create concurrent clients + cfn := func(me int, ch chan []int) { + var ret []int + ret = nil + defer func() { ch <- ret }() + values := []int{} + for atomic.LoadInt32(&stop) == 0 { + x := rand.Int() + index := -1 + ok := false + for i := 0; i < servers; i++ { + // try them all, maybe one of them is a leader + cfg.mu.Lock() + rf := cfg.rafts[i] + cfg.mu.Unlock() + if rf != nil { + index1, _, ok1 := rf.Start(x) + if ok1 { + ok = ok1 + index = index1 + } + } + } + if ok { + // maybe leader will commit our value, maybe not. + // but don't wait forever. + for _, to := range []int{10, 20, 50, 100, 200} { + nd, cmd := cfg.nCommitted(index) + if nd > 0 { + if xx, ok := cmd.(int); ok { + if xx == x { + values = append(values, x) + } + } else { + cfg.t.Fatalf("wrong command type") + } + break + } + time.Sleep(time.Duration(to) * time.Millisecond) + } + } else { + time.Sleep(time.Duration(79+me*17) * time.Millisecond) + } + } + ret = values + } + + ncli := 3 + cha := []chan []int{} + for i := 0; i < ncli; i++ { + cha = append(cha, make(chan []int)) + go cfn(i, cha[i]) + } + + for iters := 0; iters < 20; iters++ { + if (rand.Int() % 1000) < 200 { + i := rand.Int() % servers + cfg.disconnect(i) + } + + if (rand.Int() % 1000) < 500 { + i := rand.Int() % servers + if cfg.rafts[i] == nil { + cfg.start1(i, cfg.applier) + } + cfg.connect(i) + } + + if (rand.Int() % 1000) < 200 { + i := rand.Int() % servers + if cfg.rafts[i] != nil { + cfg.crash1(i) + } + } + + // Make crash/restart infrequent enough that the peers can often + // keep up, but not so infrequent that everything has settled + // down from one change to the next. Pick a value smaller than + // the election timeout, but not hugely smaller. + time.Sleep((RaftElectionTimeout * 7) / 10) + } + + time.Sleep(RaftElectionTimeout) + cfg.setunreliable(false) + for i := 0; i < servers; i++ { + if cfg.rafts[i] == nil { + cfg.start1(i, cfg.applier) + } + cfg.connect(i) + } + + atomic.StoreInt32(&stop, 1) + + values := []int{} + for i := 0; i < ncli; i++ { + vv := <-cha[i] + if vv == nil { + t.Fatal("client failed") + } + values = append(values, vv...) + } + + time.Sleep(RaftElectionTimeout) + + lastIndex := cfg.one(rand.Int(), servers, true) + + really := make([]int, lastIndex+1) + for index := 1; index <= lastIndex; index++ { + v := cfg.wait(index, servers, -1) + if vi, ok := v.(int); ok { + really = append(really, vi) + } else { + t.Fatalf("not an int") + } + } + + for _, v1 := range values { + ok := false + for _, v2 := range really { + if v1 == v2 { + ok = true + } + } + if ok == false { + cfg.t.Fatalf("didn't find a value") + } + } + + cfg.end() +} + +func TestReliableChurn2C(t *testing.T) { + internalChurn(t, false) +} + +func TestUnreliableChurn2C(t *testing.T) { + internalChurn(t, true) +} + +const MAXLOGSIZE = 2000 + +func snapcommon(t *testing.T, name string, disconnect bool, reliable bool, crash bool) { + iters := 30 + servers := 3 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, !reliable, true) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin(name) + + cfg.one(rand.Int(), servers, true) + leader1 := cfg.checkOneLeader() + + for i := 0; i < iters; i++ { + victim := (leader1 + 1) % servers + sender := leader1 + if i%3 == 1 { + sender = (leader1 + 1) % servers + victim = leader1 + } + + if disconnect { + cfg.disconnect(victim) + cfg.one(rand.Int(), servers-1, true) + } + if crash { + cfg.crash1(victim) + cfg.one(rand.Int(), servers-1, true) + } + + // perhaps send enough to get a snapshot + nn := (SnapShotInterval / 2) + (rand.Int() % SnapShotInterval) + for i := 0; i < nn; i++ { + cfg.rafts[sender].Start(rand.Int()) + } + + // let applier threads catch up with the Start()'s + if disconnect == false && crash == false { + // make sure all followers have caught up, so that + // an InstallSnapshot RPC isn't required for + // TestSnapshotBasic2D(). + cfg.one(rand.Int(), servers, true) + } else { + cfg.one(rand.Int(), servers-1, true) + } + + if cfg.LogSize() >= MAXLOGSIZE { + cfg.t.Fatalf("Log size too large") + } + if disconnect { + // reconnect a follower, who maybe behind and + // needs to rceive a snapshot to catch up. + cfg.connect(victim) + cfg.one(rand.Int(), servers, true) + leader1 = cfg.checkOneLeader() + } + if crash { + cfg.start1(victim, cfg.applierSnap) + cfg.connect(victim) + cfg.one(rand.Int(), servers, true) + leader1 = cfg.checkOneLeader() + } + } + cfg.end() +} + +func TestSnapshotBasic2D(t *testing.T) { + snapcommon(t, "Test (2D): snapshots basic", false, true, false) +} + +func TestSnapshotInstall2D(t *testing.T) { + snapcommon(t, "Test (2D): install snapshots (disconnect)", true, true, false) +} + +func TestSnapshotInstallUnreliable2D(t *testing.T) { + snapcommon(t, "Test (2D): install snapshots (disconnect+unreliable)", + true, false, false) +} + +func TestSnapshotInstallCrash2D(t *testing.T) { + snapcommon(t, "Test (2D): install snapshots (crash)", false, true, true) +} + +func TestSnapshotInstallUnCrash2D(t *testing.T) { + snapcommon(t, "Test (2D): install snapshots (unreliable+crash)", false, false, true) +} + +// do the servers persist the snapshots, and +// restart using snapshot along with the +// tail of the log? +func TestSnapshotAllCrash2D(t *testing.T) { + servers := 3 + iters := 5 + cfg := make_config(t, servers, false, true) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + cfg.begin("Test (2D): crash and restart all servers") + + cfg.one(rand.Int(), servers, true) + + for i := 0; i < iters; i++ { + // perhaps enough to get a snapshot + nn := (SnapShotInterval / 2) + (rand.Int() % SnapShotInterval) + for i := 0; i < nn; i++ { + cfg.one(rand.Int(), servers, true) + } + + index1 := cfg.one(rand.Int(), servers, true) + + // crash all + for i := 0; i < servers; i++ { + cfg.crash1(i) + } + + // revive all + for i := 0; i < servers; i++ { + cfg.start1(i, cfg.applierSnap) + cfg.connect(i) + } + + index2 := cfg.one(rand.Int(), servers, true) + if index2 < index1+1 { + t.Fatalf("index decreased from %v to %v", index1, index2) + } + } + cfg.end() +} diff --git a/src/raft/util.go b/src/raft/util.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..809e665 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/raft/util.go @@ -0,0 +1,13 @@ +package raft + +import "log" + +// Debugging +const Debug = false + +func DPrintf(format string, a ...interface{}) (n int, err error) { + if Debug { + log.Printf(format, a...) + } + return +} diff --git a/src/shardctrler/client.go b/src/shardctrler/client.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..74ab736 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/shardctrler/client.go @@ -0,0 +1,101 @@ +package shardctrler + +// +// Shardctrler clerk. +// + +import "6.5840/labrpc" +import "time" +import "crypto/rand" +import "math/big" + +type Clerk struct { + servers []*labrpc.ClientEnd + // Your data here. +} + +func nrand() int64 { + max := big.NewInt(int64(1) << 62) + bigx, _ := rand.Int(rand.Reader, max) + x := bigx.Int64() + return x +} + +func MakeClerk(servers []*labrpc.ClientEnd) *Clerk { + ck := new(Clerk) + ck.servers = servers + // Your code here. + return ck +} + +func (ck *Clerk) Query(num int) Config { + args := &QueryArgs{} + // Your code here. + args.Num = num + for { + // try each known server. + for _, srv := range ck.servers { + var reply QueryReply + ok := srv.Call("ShardCtrler.Query", args, &reply) + if ok && reply.WrongLeader == false { + return reply.Config + } + } + time.Sleep(100 * time.Millisecond) + } +} + +func (ck *Clerk) Join(servers map[int][]string) { + args := &JoinArgs{} + // Your code here. + args.Servers = servers + + for { + // try each known server. + for _, srv := range ck.servers { + var reply JoinReply + ok := srv.Call("ShardCtrler.Join", args, &reply) + if ok && reply.WrongLeader == false { + return + } + } + time.Sleep(100 * time.Millisecond) + } +} + +func (ck *Clerk) Leave(gids []int) { + args := &LeaveArgs{} + // Your code here. + args.GIDs = gids + + for { + // try each known server. + for _, srv := range ck.servers { + var reply LeaveReply + ok := srv.Call("ShardCtrler.Leave", args, &reply) + if ok && reply.WrongLeader == false { + return + } + } + time.Sleep(100 * time.Millisecond) + } +} + +func (ck *Clerk) Move(shard int, gid int) { + args := &MoveArgs{} + // Your code here. + args.Shard = shard + args.GID = gid + + for { + // try each known server. + for _, srv := range ck.servers { + var reply MoveReply + ok := srv.Call("ShardCtrler.Move", args, &reply) + if ok && reply.WrongLeader == false { + return + } + } + time.Sleep(100 * time.Millisecond) + } +} diff --git a/src/shardctrler/common.go b/src/shardctrler/common.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..031806a --- /dev/null +++ b/src/shardctrler/common.go @@ -0,0 +1,73 @@ +package shardctrler + +// +// Shard controler: assigns shards to replication groups. +// +// RPC interface: +// Join(servers) -- add a set of groups (gid -> server-list mapping). +// Leave(gids) -- delete a set of groups. +// Move(shard, gid) -- hand off one shard from current owner to gid. +// Query(num) -> fetch Config # num, or latest config if num==-1. +// +// A Config (configuration) describes a set of replica groups, and the +// replica group responsible for each shard. Configs are numbered. Config +// #0 is the initial configuration, with no groups and all shards +// assigned to group 0 (the invalid group). +// +// You will need to add fields to the RPC argument structs. +// + +// The number of shards. +const NShards = 10 + +// A configuration -- an assignment of shards to groups. +// Please don't change this. +type Config struct { + Num int // config number + Shards [NShards]int // shard -> gid + Groups map[int][]string // gid -> servers[] +} + +const ( + OK = "OK" +) + +type Err string + +type JoinArgs struct { + Servers map[int][]string // new GID -> servers mappings +} + +type JoinReply struct { + WrongLeader bool + Err Err +} + +type LeaveArgs struct { + GIDs []int +} + +type LeaveReply struct { + WrongLeader bool + Err Err +} + +type MoveArgs struct { + Shard int + GID int +} + +type MoveReply struct { + WrongLeader bool + Err Err +} + +type QueryArgs struct { + Num int // desired config number +} + +type QueryReply struct { + WrongLeader bool + Err Err + Config Config +} diff --git a/src/shardctrler/config.go b/src/shardctrler/config.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..871a1b1 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/shardctrler/config.go @@ -0,0 +1,357 @@ +package shardctrler + +import "6.5840/labrpc" +import "6.5840/raft" +import "testing" +import "os" + +// import "log" +import crand "crypto/rand" +import "math/rand" +import "encoding/base64" +import "sync" +import "runtime" +import "time" + +func randstring(n int) string { + b := make([]byte, 2*n) + crand.Read(b) + s := base64.URLEncoding.EncodeToString(b) + return s[0:n] +} + +// Randomize server handles +func random_handles(kvh []*labrpc.ClientEnd) []*labrpc.ClientEnd { + sa := make([]*labrpc.ClientEnd, len(kvh)) + copy(sa, kvh) + for i := range sa { + j := rand.Intn(i + 1) + sa[i], sa[j] = sa[j], sa[i] + } + return sa +} + +type config struct { + mu sync.Mutex + t *testing.T + net *labrpc.Network + n int + servers []*ShardCtrler + saved []*raft.Persister + endnames [][]string // names of each server's sending ClientEnds + clerks map[*Clerk][]string + nextClientId int + start time.Time // time at which make_config() was called +} + +func (cfg *config) checkTimeout() { + // enforce a two minute real-time limit on each test + if !cfg.t.Failed() && time.Since(cfg.start) > 120*time.Second { + cfg.t.Fatal("test took longer than 120 seconds") + } +} + +func (cfg *config) cleanup() { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + for i := 0; i < len(cfg.servers); i++ { + if cfg.servers[i] != nil { + cfg.servers[i].Kill() + } + } + cfg.net.Cleanup() + cfg.checkTimeout() +} + +// Maximum log size across all servers +func (cfg *config) LogSize() int { + logsize := 0 + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + n := cfg.saved[i].RaftStateSize() + if n > logsize { + logsize = n + } + } + return logsize +} + +// attach server i to servers listed in to +// caller must hold cfg.mu +func (cfg *config) connectUnlocked(i int, to []int) { + // log.Printf("connect peer %d to %v\n", i, to) + + // outgoing socket files + for j := 0; j < len(to); j++ { + endname := cfg.endnames[i][to[j]] + cfg.net.Enable(endname, true) + } + + // incoming socket files + for j := 0; j < len(to); j++ { + endname := cfg.endnames[to[j]][i] + cfg.net.Enable(endname, true) + } +} + +func (cfg *config) connect(i int, to []int) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + cfg.connectUnlocked(i, to) +} + +// detach server i from the servers listed in from +// caller must hold cfg.mu +func (cfg *config) disconnectUnlocked(i int, from []int) { + // log.Printf("disconnect peer %d from %v\n", i, from) + + // outgoing socket files + for j := 0; j < len(from); j++ { + if cfg.endnames[i] != nil { + endname := cfg.endnames[i][from[j]] + cfg.net.Enable(endname, false) + } + } + + // incoming socket files + for j := 0; j < len(from); j++ { + if cfg.endnames[j] != nil { + endname := cfg.endnames[from[j]][i] + cfg.net.Enable(endname, false) + } + } +} + +func (cfg *config) disconnect(i int, from []int) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + cfg.disconnectUnlocked(i, from) +} + +func (cfg *config) All() []int { + all := make([]int, cfg.n) + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + all[i] = i + } + return all +} + +func (cfg *config) ConnectAll() { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + cfg.connectUnlocked(i, cfg.All()) + } +} + +// Sets up 2 partitions with connectivity between servers in each partition. +func (cfg *config) partition(p1 []int, p2 []int) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + // log.Printf("partition servers into: %v %v\n", p1, p2) + for i := 0; i < len(p1); i++ { + cfg.disconnectUnlocked(p1[i], p2) + cfg.connectUnlocked(p1[i], p1) + } + for i := 0; i < len(p2); i++ { + cfg.disconnectUnlocked(p2[i], p1) + cfg.connectUnlocked(p2[i], p2) + } +} + +// Create a clerk with clerk specific server names. +// Give it connections to all of the servers, but for +// now enable only connections to servers in to[]. +func (cfg *config) makeClient(to []int) *Clerk { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + + // a fresh set of ClientEnds. + ends := make([]*labrpc.ClientEnd, cfg.n) + endnames := make([]string, cfg.n) + for j := 0; j < cfg.n; j++ { + endnames[j] = randstring(20) + ends[j] = cfg.net.MakeEnd(endnames[j]) + cfg.net.Connect(endnames[j], j) + } + + ck := MakeClerk(random_handles(ends)) + cfg.clerks[ck] = endnames + cfg.nextClientId++ + cfg.ConnectClientUnlocked(ck, to) + return ck +} + +func (cfg *config) deleteClient(ck *Clerk) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + + v := cfg.clerks[ck] + for i := 0; i < len(v); i++ { + os.Remove(v[i]) + } + delete(cfg.clerks, ck) +} + +// caller should hold cfg.mu +func (cfg *config) ConnectClientUnlocked(ck *Clerk, to []int) { + // log.Printf("ConnectClient %v to %v\n", ck, to) + endnames := cfg.clerks[ck] + for j := 0; j < len(to); j++ { + s := endnames[to[j]] + cfg.net.Enable(s, true) + } +} + +func (cfg *config) ConnectClient(ck *Clerk, to []int) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + cfg.ConnectClientUnlocked(ck, to) +} + +// caller should hold cfg.mu +func (cfg *config) DisconnectClientUnlocked(ck *Clerk, from []int) { + // log.Printf("DisconnectClient %v from %v\n", ck, from) + endnames := cfg.clerks[ck] + for j := 0; j < len(from); j++ { + s := endnames[from[j]] + cfg.net.Enable(s, false) + } +} + +func (cfg *config) DisconnectClient(ck *Clerk, from []int) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + cfg.DisconnectClientUnlocked(ck, from) +} + +// Shutdown a server by isolating it +func (cfg *config) ShutdownServer(i int) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + + cfg.disconnectUnlocked(i, cfg.All()) + + // disable client connections to the server. + // it's important to do this before creating + // the new Persister in saved[i], to avoid + // the possibility of the server returning a + // positive reply to an Append but persisting + // the result in the superseded Persister. + cfg.net.DeleteServer(i) + + // a fresh persister, in case old instance + // continues to update the Persister. + // but copy old persister's content so that we always + // pass Make() the last persisted state. + if cfg.saved[i] != nil { + cfg.saved[i] = cfg.saved[i].Copy() + } + + kv := cfg.servers[i] + if kv != nil { + cfg.mu.Unlock() + kv.Kill() + cfg.mu.Lock() + cfg.servers[i] = nil + } +} + +// If restart servers, first call ShutdownServer +func (cfg *config) StartServer(i int) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + + // a fresh set of outgoing ClientEnd names. + cfg.endnames[i] = make([]string, cfg.n) + for j := 0; j < cfg.n; j++ { + cfg.endnames[i][j] = randstring(20) + } + + // a fresh set of ClientEnds. + ends := make([]*labrpc.ClientEnd, cfg.n) + for j := 0; j < cfg.n; j++ { + ends[j] = cfg.net.MakeEnd(cfg.endnames[i][j]) + cfg.net.Connect(cfg.endnames[i][j], j) + } + + // a fresh persister, so old instance doesn't overwrite + // new instance's persisted state. + // give the fresh persister a copy of the old persister's + // state, so that the spec is that we pass StartKVServer() + // the last persisted state. + if cfg.saved[i] != nil { + cfg.saved[i] = cfg.saved[i].Copy() + } else { + cfg.saved[i] = raft.MakePersister() + } + + cfg.mu.Unlock() + + cfg.servers[i] = StartServer(ends, i, cfg.saved[i]) + + kvsvc := labrpc.MakeService(cfg.servers[i]) + rfsvc := labrpc.MakeService(cfg.servers[i].rf) + srv := labrpc.MakeServer() + srv.AddService(kvsvc) + srv.AddService(rfsvc) + cfg.net.AddServer(i, srv) +} + +func (cfg *config) Leader() (bool, int) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + if cfg.servers[i] != nil { + _, is_leader := cfg.servers[i].rf.GetState() + if is_leader { + return true, i + } + } + } + return false, 0 +} + +// Partition servers into 2 groups and put current leader in minority +func (cfg *config) make_partition() ([]int, []int) { + _, l := cfg.Leader() + p1 := make([]int, cfg.n/2+1) + p2 := make([]int, cfg.n/2) + j := 0 + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + if i != l { + if j < len(p1) { + p1[j] = i + } else { + p2[j-len(p1)] = i + } + j++ + } + } + p2[len(p2)-1] = l + return p1, p2 +} + +func make_config(t *testing.T, n int, unreliable bool) *config { + runtime.GOMAXPROCS(4) + cfg := &config{} + cfg.t = t + cfg.net = labrpc.MakeNetwork() + cfg.n = n + cfg.servers = make([]*ShardCtrler, cfg.n) + cfg.saved = make([]*raft.Persister, cfg.n) + cfg.endnames = make([][]string, cfg.n) + cfg.clerks = make(map[*Clerk][]string) + cfg.nextClientId = cfg.n + 1000 // client ids start 1000 above the highest serverid + cfg.start = time.Now() + + // create a full set of KV servers. + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + cfg.StartServer(i) + } + + cfg.ConnectAll() + + cfg.net.Reliable(!unreliable) + + return cfg +} diff --git a/src/shardctrler/server.go b/src/shardctrler/server.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..229e014 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/shardctrler/server.go @@ -0,0 +1,76 @@ +package shardctrler + + +import "6.5840/raft" +import "6.5840/labrpc" +import "sync" +import "6.5840/labgob" + + +type ShardCtrler struct { + mu sync.Mutex + me int + rf *raft.Raft + applyCh chan raft.ApplyMsg + + // Your data here. + + configs []Config // indexed by config num +} + + +type Op struct { + // Your data here. +} + + +func (sc *ShardCtrler) Join(args *JoinArgs, reply *JoinReply) { + // Your code here. +} + +func (sc *ShardCtrler) Leave(args *LeaveArgs, reply *LeaveReply) { + // Your code here. +} + +func (sc *ShardCtrler) Move(args *MoveArgs, reply *MoveReply) { + // Your code here. +} + +func (sc *ShardCtrler) Query(args *QueryArgs, reply *QueryReply) { + // Your code here. +} + + +// the tester calls Kill() when a ShardCtrler instance won't +// be needed again. you are not required to do anything +// in Kill(), but it might be convenient to (for example) +// turn off debug output from this instance. +func (sc *ShardCtrler) Kill() { + sc.rf.Kill() + // Your code here, if desired. +} + +// needed by shardkv tester +func (sc *ShardCtrler) Raft() *raft.Raft { + return sc.rf +} + +// servers[] contains the ports of the set of +// servers that will cooperate via Raft to +// form the fault-tolerant shardctrler service. +// me is the index of the current server in servers[]. +func StartServer(servers []*labrpc.ClientEnd, me int, persister *raft.Persister) *ShardCtrler { + sc := new(ShardCtrler) + sc.me = me + + sc.configs = make([]Config, 1) + sc.configs[0].Groups = map[int][]string{} + + labgob.Register(Op{}) + sc.applyCh = make(chan raft.ApplyMsg) + sc.rf = raft.Make(servers, me, persister, sc.applyCh) + + // Your code here. + + return sc +} diff --git a/src/shardctrler/test_test.go b/src/shardctrler/test_test.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f0bfd08 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/shardctrler/test_test.go @@ -0,0 +1,403 @@ +package shardctrler + +import ( + "fmt" + "sync" + "testing" + "time" +) + +// import "time" + +func check(t *testing.T, groups []int, ck *Clerk) { + c := ck.Query(-1) + if len(c.Groups) != len(groups) { + t.Fatalf("wanted %v groups, got %v", len(groups), len(c.Groups)) + } + + // are the groups as expected? + for _, g := range groups { + _, ok := c.Groups[g] + if ok != true { + t.Fatalf("missing group %v", g) + } + } + + // any un-allocated shards? + if len(groups) > 0 { + for s, g := range c.Shards { + _, ok := c.Groups[g] + if ok == false { + t.Fatalf("shard %v -> invalid group %v", s, g) + } + } + } + + // more or less balanced sharding? + counts := map[int]int{} + for _, g := range c.Shards { + counts[g] += 1 + } + min := 257 + max := 0 + for g, _ := range c.Groups { + if counts[g] > max { + max = counts[g] + } + if counts[g] < min { + min = counts[g] + } + } + if max > min+1 { + t.Fatalf("max %v too much larger than min %v", max, min) + } +} + +func check_same_config(t *testing.T, c1 Config, c2 Config) { + if c1.Num != c2.Num { + t.Fatalf("Num wrong") + } + if c1.Shards != c2.Shards { + t.Fatalf("Shards wrong") + } + if len(c1.Groups) != len(c2.Groups) { + t.Fatalf("number of Groups is wrong") + } + for gid, sa := range c1.Groups { + sa1, ok := c2.Groups[gid] + if ok == false || len(sa1) != len(sa) { + t.Fatalf("len(Groups) wrong") + } + if ok && len(sa1) == len(sa) { + for j := 0; j < len(sa); j++ { + if sa[j] != sa1[j] { + t.Fatalf("Groups wrong") + } + } + } + } +} + +func TestBasic(t *testing.T) { + const nservers = 3 + cfg := make_config(t, nservers, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + ck := cfg.makeClient(cfg.All()) + + fmt.Printf("Test: Basic leave/join ...\n") + + cfa := make([]Config, 6) + cfa[0] = ck.Query(-1) + + check(t, []int{}, ck) + + var gid1 int = 1 + ck.Join(map[int][]string{gid1: []string{"x", "y", "z"}}) + check(t, []int{gid1}, ck) + cfa[1] = ck.Query(-1) + + var gid2 int = 2 + ck.Join(map[int][]string{gid2: []string{"a", "b", "c"}}) + check(t, []int{gid1, gid2}, ck) + cfa[2] = ck.Query(-1) + + cfx := ck.Query(-1) + sa1 := cfx.Groups[gid1] + if len(sa1) != 3 || sa1[0] != "x" || sa1[1] != "y" || sa1[2] != "z" { + t.Fatalf("wrong servers for gid %v: %v\n", gid1, sa1) + } + sa2 := cfx.Groups[gid2] + if len(sa2) != 3 || sa2[0] != "a" || sa2[1] != "b" || sa2[2] != "c" { + t.Fatalf("wrong servers for gid %v: %v\n", gid2, sa2) + } + + ck.Leave([]int{gid1}) + check(t, []int{gid2}, ck) + cfa[4] = ck.Query(-1) + + ck.Leave([]int{gid2}) + cfa[5] = ck.Query(-1) + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") + + fmt.Printf("Test: Historical queries ...\n") + + for s := 0; s < nservers; s++ { + cfg.ShutdownServer(s) + for i := 0; i < len(cfa); i++ { + c := ck.Query(cfa[i].Num) + check_same_config(t, c, cfa[i]) + } + cfg.StartServer(s) + cfg.ConnectAll() + } + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") + + fmt.Printf("Test: Move ...\n") + { + var gid3 int = 503 + ck.Join(map[int][]string{gid3: []string{"3a", "3b", "3c"}}) + var gid4 int = 504 + ck.Join(map[int][]string{gid4: []string{"4a", "4b", "4c"}}) + for i := 0; i < NShards; i++ { + cf := ck.Query(-1) + if i < NShards/2 { + ck.Move(i, gid3) + if cf.Shards[i] != gid3 { + cf1 := ck.Query(-1) + if cf1.Num <= cf.Num { + t.Fatalf("Move should increase Config.Num") + } + } + } else { + ck.Move(i, gid4) + if cf.Shards[i] != gid4 { + cf1 := ck.Query(-1) + if cf1.Num <= cf.Num { + t.Fatalf("Move should increase Config.Num") + } + } + } + } + cf2 := ck.Query(-1) + for i := 0; i < NShards; i++ { + if i < NShards/2 { + if cf2.Shards[i] != gid3 { + t.Fatalf("expected shard %v on gid %v actually %v", + i, gid3, cf2.Shards[i]) + } + } else { + if cf2.Shards[i] != gid4 { + t.Fatalf("expected shard %v on gid %v actually %v", + i, gid4, cf2.Shards[i]) + } + } + } + ck.Leave([]int{gid3}) + ck.Leave([]int{gid4}) + } + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") + + fmt.Printf("Test: Concurrent leave/join ...\n") + + const npara = 10 + var cka [npara]*Clerk + for i := 0; i < len(cka); i++ { + cka[i] = cfg.makeClient(cfg.All()) + } + gids := make([]int, npara) + ch := make(chan bool) + for xi := 0; xi < npara; xi++ { + gids[xi] = int((xi * 10) + 100) + go func(i int) { + defer func() { ch <- true }() + var gid int = gids[i] + var sid1 = fmt.Sprintf("s%da", gid) + var sid2 = fmt.Sprintf("s%db", gid) + cka[i].Join(map[int][]string{gid + 1000: []string{sid1}}) + cka[i].Join(map[int][]string{gid: []string{sid2}}) + cka[i].Leave([]int{gid + 1000}) + }(xi) + } + for i := 0; i < npara; i++ { + <-ch + } + check(t, gids, ck) + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") + + fmt.Printf("Test: Minimal transfers after joins ...\n") + + c1 := ck.Query(-1) + for i := 0; i < 5; i++ { + var gid = int(npara + 1 + i) + ck.Join(map[int][]string{gid: []string{ + fmt.Sprintf("%da", gid), + fmt.Sprintf("%db", gid), + fmt.Sprintf("%db", gid)}}) + } + c2 := ck.Query(-1) + for i := int(1); i <= npara; i++ { + for j := 0; j < len(c1.Shards); j++ { + if c2.Shards[j] == i { + if c1.Shards[j] != i { + t.Fatalf("non-minimal transfer after Join()s") + } + } + } + } + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") + + fmt.Printf("Test: Minimal transfers after leaves ...\n") + + for i := 0; i < 5; i++ { + ck.Leave([]int{int(npara + 1 + i)}) + } + c3 := ck.Query(-1) + for i := int(1); i <= npara; i++ { + for j := 0; j < len(c1.Shards); j++ { + if c2.Shards[j] == i { + if c3.Shards[j] != i { + t.Fatalf("non-minimal transfer after Leave()s") + } + } + } + } + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") +} + +func TestMulti(t *testing.T) { + const nservers = 3 + cfg := make_config(t, nservers, false) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + ck := cfg.makeClient(cfg.All()) + + fmt.Printf("Test: Multi-group join/leave ...\n") + + cfa := make([]Config, 6) + cfa[0] = ck.Query(-1) + + check(t, []int{}, ck) + + var gid1 int = 1 + var gid2 int = 2 + ck.Join(map[int][]string{ + gid1: []string{"x", "y", "z"}, + gid2: []string{"a", "b", "c"}, + }) + check(t, []int{gid1, gid2}, ck) + cfa[1] = ck.Query(-1) + + var gid3 int = 3 + ck.Join(map[int][]string{gid3: []string{"j", "k", "l"}}) + check(t, []int{gid1, gid2, gid3}, ck) + cfa[2] = ck.Query(-1) + + cfx := ck.Query(-1) + sa1 := cfx.Groups[gid1] + if len(sa1) != 3 || sa1[0] != "x" || sa1[1] != "y" || sa1[2] != "z" { + t.Fatalf("wrong servers for gid %v: %v\n", gid1, sa1) + } + sa2 := cfx.Groups[gid2] + if len(sa2) != 3 || sa2[0] != "a" || sa2[1] != "b" || sa2[2] != "c" { + t.Fatalf("wrong servers for gid %v: %v\n", gid2, sa2) + } + sa3 := cfx.Groups[gid3] + if len(sa3) != 3 || sa3[0] != "j" || sa3[1] != "k" || sa3[2] != "l" { + t.Fatalf("wrong servers for gid %v: %v\n", gid3, sa3) + } + + ck.Leave([]int{gid1, gid3}) + check(t, []int{gid2}, ck) + cfa[3] = ck.Query(-1) + + cfx = ck.Query(-1) + sa2 = cfx.Groups[gid2] + if len(sa2) != 3 || sa2[0] != "a" || sa2[1] != "b" || sa2[2] != "c" { + t.Fatalf("wrong servers for gid %v: %v\n", gid2, sa2) + } + + ck.Leave([]int{gid2}) + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") + + fmt.Printf("Test: Concurrent multi leave/join ...\n") + + const npara = 10 + var cka [npara]*Clerk + for i := 0; i < len(cka); i++ { + cka[i] = cfg.makeClient(cfg.All()) + } + gids := make([]int, npara) + var wg sync.WaitGroup + for xi := 0; xi < npara; xi++ { + wg.Add(1) + gids[xi] = int(xi + 1000) + go func(i int) { + defer wg.Done() + var gid int = gids[i] + cka[i].Join(map[int][]string{ + gid: []string{ + fmt.Sprintf("%da", gid), + fmt.Sprintf("%db", gid), + fmt.Sprintf("%dc", gid)}, + gid + 1000: []string{fmt.Sprintf("%da", gid+1000)}, + gid + 2000: []string{fmt.Sprintf("%da", gid+2000)}, + }) + cka[i].Leave([]int{gid + 1000, gid + 2000}) + }(xi) + } + wg.Wait() + check(t, gids, ck) + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") + + fmt.Printf("Test: Minimal transfers after multijoins ...\n") + + c1 := ck.Query(-1) + m := make(map[int][]string) + for i := 0; i < 5; i++ { + var gid = npara + 1 + i + m[gid] = []string{fmt.Sprintf("%da", gid), fmt.Sprintf("%db", gid)} + } + ck.Join(m) + c2 := ck.Query(-1) + for i := int(1); i <= npara; i++ { + for j := 0; j < len(c1.Shards); j++ { + if c2.Shards[j] == i { + if c1.Shards[j] != i { + t.Fatalf("non-minimal transfer after Join()s") + } + } + } + } + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") + + fmt.Printf("Test: Minimal transfers after multileaves ...\n") + + var l []int + for i := 0; i < 5; i++ { + l = append(l, npara+1+i) + } + ck.Leave(l) + c3 := ck.Query(-1) + for i := int(1); i <= npara; i++ { + for j := 0; j < len(c1.Shards); j++ { + if c2.Shards[j] == i { + if c3.Shards[j] != i { + t.Fatalf("non-minimal transfer after Leave()s") + } + } + } + } + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") + + fmt.Printf("Test: Check Same config on servers ...\n") + + isLeader, leader := cfg.Leader() + if !isLeader { + t.Fatalf("Leader not found") + } + c := ck.Query(-1) // Config leader claims + + cfg.ShutdownServer(leader) + + attempts := 0 + for isLeader, leader = cfg.Leader(); isLeader; time.Sleep(1 * time.Second) { + if attempts++; attempts >= 3 { + t.Fatalf("Leader not found") + } + } + + c1 = ck.Query(-1) + check_same_config(t, c, c1) + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") +} diff --git a/src/shardkv/client.go b/src/shardkv/client.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..68ff892 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/shardkv/client.go @@ -0,0 +1,129 @@ +package shardkv + +// +// client code to talk to a sharded key/value service. +// +// the client first talks to the shardctrler to find out +// the assignment of shards (keys) to groups, and then +// talks to the group that holds the key's shard. +// + +import "6.5840/labrpc" +import "crypto/rand" +import "math/big" +import "6.5840/shardctrler" +import "time" + +// which shard is a key in? +// please use this function, +// and please do not change it. +func key2shard(key string) int { + shard := 0 + if len(key) > 0 { + shard = int(key[0]) + } + shard %= shardctrler.NShards + return shard +} + +func nrand() int64 { + max := big.NewInt(int64(1) << 62) + bigx, _ := rand.Int(rand.Reader, max) + x := bigx.Int64() + return x +} + +type Clerk struct { + sm *shardctrler.Clerk + config shardctrler.Config + make_end func(string) *labrpc.ClientEnd + // You will have to modify this struct. +} + +// the tester calls MakeClerk. +// +// ctrlers[] is needed to call shardctrler.MakeClerk(). +// +// make_end(servername) turns a server name from a +// Config.Groups[gid][i] into a labrpc.ClientEnd on which you can +// send RPCs. +func MakeClerk(ctrlers []*labrpc.ClientEnd, make_end func(string) *labrpc.ClientEnd) *Clerk { + ck := new(Clerk) + ck.sm = shardctrler.MakeClerk(ctrlers) + ck.make_end = make_end + // You'll have to add code here. + return ck +} + +// fetch the current value for a key. +// returns "" if the key does not exist. +// keeps trying forever in the face of all other errors. +// You will have to modify this function. +func (ck *Clerk) Get(key string) string { + args := GetArgs{} + args.Key = key + + for { + shard := key2shard(key) + gid := ck.config.Shards[shard] + if servers, ok := ck.config.Groups[gid]; ok { + // try each server for the shard. + for si := 0; si < len(servers); si++ { + srv := ck.make_end(servers[si]) + var reply GetReply + ok := srv.Call("ShardKV.Get", &args, &reply) + if ok && (reply.Err == OK || reply.Err == ErrNoKey) { + return reply.Value + } + if ok && (reply.Err == ErrWrongGroup) { + break + } + // ... not ok, or ErrWrongLeader + } + } + time.Sleep(100 * time.Millisecond) + // ask controler for the latest configuration. + ck.config = ck.sm.Query(-1) + } + + return "" +} + +// shared by Put and Append. +// You will have to modify this function. +func (ck *Clerk) PutAppend(key string, value string, op string) { + args := PutAppendArgs{} + args.Key = key + args.Value = value + args.Op = op + + + for { + shard := key2shard(key) + gid := ck.config.Shards[shard] + if servers, ok := ck.config.Groups[gid]; ok { + for si := 0; si < len(servers); si++ { + srv := ck.make_end(servers[si]) + var reply PutAppendReply + ok := srv.Call("ShardKV.PutAppend", &args, &reply) + if ok && reply.Err == OK { + return + } + if ok && reply.Err == ErrWrongGroup { + break + } + // ... not ok, or ErrWrongLeader + } + } + time.Sleep(100 * time.Millisecond) + // ask controler for the latest configuration. + ck.config = ck.sm.Query(-1) + } +} + +func (ck *Clerk) Put(key string, value string) { + ck.PutAppend(key, value, "Put") +} +func (ck *Clerk) Append(key string, value string) { + ck.PutAppend(key, value, "Append") +} diff --git a/src/shardkv/common.go b/src/shardkv/common.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e183a39 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/shardkv/common.go @@ -0,0 +1,44 @@ +package shardkv + +// +// Sharded key/value server. +// Lots of replica groups, each running Raft. +// Shardctrler decides which group serves each shard. +// Shardctrler may change shard assignment from time to time. +// +// You will have to modify these definitions. +// + +const ( + OK = "OK" + ErrNoKey = "ErrNoKey" + ErrWrongGroup = "ErrWrongGroup" + ErrWrongLeader = "ErrWrongLeader" +) + +type Err string + +// Put or Append +type PutAppendArgs struct { + // You'll have to add definitions here. + Key string + Value string + Op string // "Put" or "Append" + // You'll have to add definitions here. + // Field names must start with capital letters, + // otherwise RPC will break. +} + +type PutAppendReply struct { + Err Err +} + +type GetArgs struct { + Key string + // You'll have to add definitions here. +} + +type GetReply struct { + Err Err + Value string +} diff --git a/src/shardkv/config.go b/src/shardkv/config.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f631662 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/shardkv/config.go @@ -0,0 +1,382 @@ +package shardkv + +import "6.5840/shardctrler" +import "6.5840/labrpc" +import "testing" +import "os" + +// import "log" +import crand "crypto/rand" +import "math/big" +import "math/rand" +import "encoding/base64" +import "sync" +import "runtime" +import "6.5840/raft" +import "strconv" +import "fmt" +import "time" + +func randstring(n int) string { + b := make([]byte, 2*n) + crand.Read(b) + s := base64.URLEncoding.EncodeToString(b) + return s[0:n] +} + +func makeSeed() int64 { + max := big.NewInt(int64(1) << 62) + bigx, _ := crand.Int(crand.Reader, max) + x := bigx.Int64() + return x +} + +// Randomize server handles +func random_handles(kvh []*labrpc.ClientEnd) []*labrpc.ClientEnd { + sa := make([]*labrpc.ClientEnd, len(kvh)) + copy(sa, kvh) + for i := range sa { + j := rand.Intn(i + 1) + sa[i], sa[j] = sa[j], sa[i] + } + return sa +} + +type group struct { + gid int + servers []*ShardKV + saved []*raft.Persister + endnames [][]string + mendnames [][]string +} + +type config struct { + mu sync.Mutex + t *testing.T + net *labrpc.Network + start time.Time // time at which make_config() was called + + nctrlers int + ctrlerservers []*shardctrler.ShardCtrler + mck *shardctrler.Clerk + + ngroups int + n int // servers per k/v group + groups []*group + + clerks map[*Clerk][]string + nextClientId int + maxraftstate int +} + +func (cfg *config) checkTimeout() { + // enforce a two minute real-time limit on each test + if !cfg.t.Failed() && time.Since(cfg.start) > 120*time.Second { + cfg.t.Fatal("test took longer than 120 seconds") + } +} + +func (cfg *config) cleanup() { + for gi := 0; gi < cfg.ngroups; gi++ { + cfg.ShutdownGroup(gi) + } + for i := 0; i < cfg.nctrlers; i++ { + cfg.ctrlerservers[i].Kill() + } + cfg.net.Cleanup() + cfg.checkTimeout() +} + +// check that no server's log is too big. +func (cfg *config) checklogs() { + for gi := 0; gi < cfg.ngroups; gi++ { + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + raft := cfg.groups[gi].saved[i].RaftStateSize() + snap := len(cfg.groups[gi].saved[i].ReadSnapshot()) + if cfg.maxraftstate >= 0 && raft > 8*cfg.maxraftstate { + cfg.t.Fatalf("persister.RaftStateSize() %v, but maxraftstate %v", + raft, cfg.maxraftstate) + } + if cfg.maxraftstate < 0 && snap > 0 { + cfg.t.Fatalf("maxraftstate is -1, but snapshot is non-empty!") + } + } + } +} + +// controler server name for labrpc. +func (cfg *config) ctrlername(i int) string { + return "ctrler" + strconv.Itoa(i) +} + +// shard server name for labrpc. +// i'th server of group gid. +func (cfg *config) servername(gid int, i int) string { + return "server-" + strconv.Itoa(gid) + "-" + strconv.Itoa(i) +} + +func (cfg *config) makeClient() *Clerk { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + + // ClientEnds to talk to controler service. + ends := make([]*labrpc.ClientEnd, cfg.nctrlers) + endnames := make([]string, cfg.n) + for j := 0; j < cfg.nctrlers; j++ { + endnames[j] = randstring(20) + ends[j] = cfg.net.MakeEnd(endnames[j]) + cfg.net.Connect(endnames[j], cfg.ctrlername(j)) + cfg.net.Enable(endnames[j], true) + } + + ck := MakeClerk(ends, func(servername string) *labrpc.ClientEnd { + name := randstring(20) + end := cfg.net.MakeEnd(name) + cfg.net.Connect(name, servername) + cfg.net.Enable(name, true) + return end + }) + cfg.clerks[ck] = endnames + cfg.nextClientId++ + return ck +} + +func (cfg *config) deleteClient(ck *Clerk) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + + v := cfg.clerks[ck] + for i := 0; i < len(v); i++ { + os.Remove(v[i]) + } + delete(cfg.clerks, ck) +} + +// Shutdown i'th server of gi'th group, by isolating it +func (cfg *config) ShutdownServer(gi int, i int) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + defer cfg.mu.Unlock() + + gg := cfg.groups[gi] + + // prevent this server from sending + for j := 0; j < len(gg.servers); j++ { + name := gg.endnames[i][j] + cfg.net.Enable(name, false) + } + for j := 0; j < len(gg.mendnames[i]); j++ { + name := gg.mendnames[i][j] + cfg.net.Enable(name, false) + } + + // disable client connections to the server. + // it's important to do this before creating + // the new Persister in saved[i], to avoid + // the possibility of the server returning a + // positive reply to an Append but persisting + // the result in the superseded Persister. + cfg.net.DeleteServer(cfg.servername(gg.gid, i)) + + // a fresh persister, in case old instance + // continues to update the Persister. + // but copy old persister's content so that we always + // pass Make() the last persisted state. + if gg.saved[i] != nil { + gg.saved[i] = gg.saved[i].Copy() + } + + kv := gg.servers[i] + if kv != nil { + cfg.mu.Unlock() + kv.Kill() + cfg.mu.Lock() + gg.servers[i] = nil + } +} + +func (cfg *config) ShutdownGroup(gi int) { + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + cfg.ShutdownServer(gi, i) + } +} + +// start i'th server in gi'th group +func (cfg *config) StartServer(gi int, i int) { + cfg.mu.Lock() + + gg := cfg.groups[gi] + + // a fresh set of outgoing ClientEnd names + // to talk to other servers in this group. + gg.endnames[i] = make([]string, cfg.n) + for j := 0; j < cfg.n; j++ { + gg.endnames[i][j] = randstring(20) + } + + // and the connections to other servers in this group. + ends := make([]*labrpc.ClientEnd, cfg.n) + for j := 0; j < cfg.n; j++ { + ends[j] = cfg.net.MakeEnd(gg.endnames[i][j]) + cfg.net.Connect(gg.endnames[i][j], cfg.servername(gg.gid, j)) + cfg.net.Enable(gg.endnames[i][j], true) + } + + // ends to talk to shardctrler service + mends := make([]*labrpc.ClientEnd, cfg.nctrlers) + gg.mendnames[i] = make([]string, cfg.nctrlers) + for j := 0; j < cfg.nctrlers; j++ { + gg.mendnames[i][j] = randstring(20) + mends[j] = cfg.net.MakeEnd(gg.mendnames[i][j]) + cfg.net.Connect(gg.mendnames[i][j], cfg.ctrlername(j)) + cfg.net.Enable(gg.mendnames[i][j], true) + } + + // a fresh persister, so old instance doesn't overwrite + // new instance's persisted state. + // give the fresh persister a copy of the old persister's + // state, so that the spec is that we pass StartKVServer() + // the last persisted state. + if gg.saved[i] != nil { + gg.saved[i] = gg.saved[i].Copy() + } else { + gg.saved[i] = raft.MakePersister() + } + cfg.mu.Unlock() + + gg.servers[i] = StartServer(ends, i, gg.saved[i], cfg.maxraftstate, + gg.gid, mends, + func(servername string) *labrpc.ClientEnd { + name := randstring(20) + end := cfg.net.MakeEnd(name) + cfg.net.Connect(name, servername) + cfg.net.Enable(name, true) + return end + }) + + kvsvc := labrpc.MakeService(gg.servers[i]) + rfsvc := labrpc.MakeService(gg.servers[i].rf) + srv := labrpc.MakeServer() + srv.AddService(kvsvc) + srv.AddService(rfsvc) + cfg.net.AddServer(cfg.servername(gg.gid, i), srv) +} + +func (cfg *config) StartGroup(gi int) { + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + cfg.StartServer(gi, i) + } +} + +func (cfg *config) StartCtrlerserver(i int) { + // ClientEnds to talk to other controler replicas. + ends := make([]*labrpc.ClientEnd, cfg.nctrlers) + for j := 0; j < cfg.nctrlers; j++ { + endname := randstring(20) + ends[j] = cfg.net.MakeEnd(endname) + cfg.net.Connect(endname, cfg.ctrlername(j)) + cfg.net.Enable(endname, true) + } + + p := raft.MakePersister() + + cfg.ctrlerservers[i] = shardctrler.StartServer(ends, i, p) + + msvc := labrpc.MakeService(cfg.ctrlerservers[i]) + rfsvc := labrpc.MakeService(cfg.ctrlerservers[i].Raft()) + srv := labrpc.MakeServer() + srv.AddService(msvc) + srv.AddService(rfsvc) + cfg.net.AddServer(cfg.ctrlername(i), srv) +} + +func (cfg *config) shardclerk() *shardctrler.Clerk { + // ClientEnds to talk to ctrler service. + ends := make([]*labrpc.ClientEnd, cfg.nctrlers) + for j := 0; j < cfg.nctrlers; j++ { + name := randstring(20) + ends[j] = cfg.net.MakeEnd(name) + cfg.net.Connect(name, cfg.ctrlername(j)) + cfg.net.Enable(name, true) + } + + return shardctrler.MakeClerk(ends) +} + +// tell the shardctrler that a group is joining. +func (cfg *config) join(gi int) { + cfg.joinm([]int{gi}) +} + +func (cfg *config) joinm(gis []int) { + m := make(map[int][]string, len(gis)) + for _, g := range gis { + gid := cfg.groups[g].gid + servernames := make([]string, cfg.n) + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + servernames[i] = cfg.servername(gid, i) + } + m[gid] = servernames + } + cfg.mck.Join(m) +} + +// tell the shardctrler that a group is leaving. +func (cfg *config) leave(gi int) { + cfg.leavem([]int{gi}) +} + +func (cfg *config) leavem(gis []int) { + gids := make([]int, 0, len(gis)) + for _, g := range gis { + gids = append(gids, cfg.groups[g].gid) + } + cfg.mck.Leave(gids) +} + +var ncpu_once sync.Once + +func make_config(t *testing.T, n int, unreliable bool, maxraftstate int) *config { + ncpu_once.Do(func() { + if runtime.NumCPU() < 2 { + fmt.Printf("warning: only one CPU, which may conceal locking bugs\n") + } + rand.Seed(makeSeed()) + }) + runtime.GOMAXPROCS(4) + cfg := &config{} + cfg.t = t + cfg.maxraftstate = maxraftstate + cfg.net = labrpc.MakeNetwork() + cfg.start = time.Now() + + // controler + cfg.nctrlers = 3 + cfg.ctrlerservers = make([]*shardctrler.ShardCtrler, cfg.nctrlers) + for i := 0; i < cfg.nctrlers; i++ { + cfg.StartCtrlerserver(i) + } + cfg.mck = cfg.shardclerk() + + cfg.ngroups = 3 + cfg.groups = make([]*group, cfg.ngroups) + cfg.n = n + for gi := 0; gi < cfg.ngroups; gi++ { + gg := &group{} + cfg.groups[gi] = gg + gg.gid = 100 + gi + gg.servers = make([]*ShardKV, cfg.n) + gg.saved = make([]*raft.Persister, cfg.n) + gg.endnames = make([][]string, cfg.n) + gg.mendnames = make([][]string, cfg.nctrlers) + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + cfg.StartServer(gi, i) + } + } + + cfg.clerks = make(map[*Clerk][]string) + cfg.nextClientId = cfg.n + 1000 // client ids start 1000 above the highest serverid + + cfg.net.Reliable(!unreliable) + + return cfg +} diff --git a/src/shardkv/server.go b/src/shardkv/server.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fe05812 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/shardkv/server.go @@ -0,0 +1,97 @@ +package shardkv + + +import "6.5840/labrpc" +import "6.5840/raft" +import "sync" +import "6.5840/labgob" + + + +type Op struct { + // Your definitions here. + // Field names must start with capital letters, + // otherwise RPC will break. +} + +type ShardKV struct { + mu sync.Mutex + me int + rf *raft.Raft + applyCh chan raft.ApplyMsg + make_end func(string) *labrpc.ClientEnd + gid int + ctrlers []*labrpc.ClientEnd + maxraftstate int // snapshot if log grows this big + + // Your definitions here. +} + + +func (kv *ShardKV) Get(args *GetArgs, reply *GetReply) { + // Your code here. +} + +func (kv *ShardKV) PutAppend(args *PutAppendArgs, reply *PutAppendReply) { + // Your code here. +} + +// the tester calls Kill() when a ShardKV instance won't +// be needed again. you are not required to do anything +// in Kill(), but it might be convenient to (for example) +// turn off debug output from this instance. +func (kv *ShardKV) Kill() { + kv.rf.Kill() + // Your code here, if desired. +} + + +// servers[] contains the ports of the servers in this group. +// +// me is the index of the current server in servers[]. +// +// the k/v server should store snapshots through the underlying Raft +// implementation, which should call persister.SaveStateAndSnapshot() to +// atomically save the Raft state along with the snapshot. +// +// the k/v server should snapshot when Raft's saved state exceeds +// maxraftstate bytes, in order to allow Raft to garbage-collect its +// log. if maxraftstate is -1, you don't need to snapshot. +// +// gid is this group's GID, for interacting with the shardctrler. +// +// pass ctrlers[] to shardctrler.MakeClerk() so you can send +// RPCs to the shardctrler. +// +// make_end(servername) turns a server name from a +// Config.Groups[gid][i] into a labrpc.ClientEnd on which you can +// send RPCs. You'll need this to send RPCs to other groups. +// +// look at client.go for examples of how to use ctrlers[] +// and make_end() to send RPCs to the group owning a specific shard. +// +// StartServer() must return quickly, so it should start goroutines +// for any long-running work. +func StartServer(servers []*labrpc.ClientEnd, me int, persister *raft.Persister, maxraftstate int, gid int, ctrlers []*labrpc.ClientEnd, make_end func(string) *labrpc.ClientEnd) *ShardKV { + // call labgob.Register on structures you want + // Go's RPC library to marshall/unmarshall. + labgob.Register(Op{}) + + kv := new(ShardKV) + kv.me = me + kv.maxraftstate = maxraftstate + kv.make_end = make_end + kv.gid = gid + kv.ctrlers = ctrlers + + // Your initialization code here. + + // Use something like this to talk to the shardctrler: + // kv.mck = shardctrler.MakeClerk(kv.ctrlers) + + kv.applyCh = make(chan raft.ApplyMsg) + kv.rf = raft.Make(servers, me, persister, kv.applyCh) + + + return kv +} diff --git a/src/shardkv/test_test.go b/src/shardkv/test_test.go new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d9efc4b --- /dev/null +++ b/src/shardkv/test_test.go @@ -0,0 +1,938 @@ +package shardkv + +import "6.5840/porcupine" +import "6.5840/models" +import "testing" +import "strconv" +import "time" +import "fmt" +import "sync/atomic" +import "sync" +import "math/rand" +import "io/ioutil" + +const linearizabilityCheckTimeout = 1 * time.Second + +func check(t *testing.T, ck *Clerk, key string, value string) { + v := ck.Get(key) + if v != value { + t.Fatalf("Get(%v): expected:\n%v\nreceived:\n%v", key, value, v) + } +} + +// test static 2-way sharding, without shard movement. +func TestStaticShards(t *testing.T) { + fmt.Printf("Test: static shards ...\n") + + cfg := make_config(t, 3, false, -1) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + ck := cfg.makeClient() + + cfg.join(0) + cfg.join(1) + + n := 10 + ka := make([]string, n) + va := make([]string, n) + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + ka[i] = strconv.Itoa(i) // ensure multiple shards + va[i] = randstring(20) + ck.Put(ka[i], va[i]) + } + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + + // make sure that the data really is sharded by + // shutting down one shard and checking that some + // Get()s don't succeed. + cfg.ShutdownGroup(1) + cfg.checklogs() // forbid snapshots + + ch := make(chan string) + for xi := 0; xi < n; xi++ { + ck1 := cfg.makeClient() // only one call allowed per client + go func(i int) { + v := ck1.Get(ka[i]) + if v != va[i] { + ch <- fmt.Sprintf("Get(%v): expected:\n%v\nreceived:\n%v", ka[i], va[i], v) + } else { + ch <- "" + } + }(xi) + } + + // wait a bit, only about half the Gets should succeed. + ndone := 0 + done := false + for done == false { + select { + case err := <-ch: + if err != "" { + t.Fatal(err) + } + ndone += 1 + case <-time.After(time.Second * 2): + done = true + break + } + } + + if ndone != 5 { + t.Fatalf("expected 5 completions with one shard dead; got %v\n", ndone) + } + + // bring the crashed shard/group back to life. + cfg.StartGroup(1) + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") +} + +func TestJoinLeave(t *testing.T) { + fmt.Printf("Test: join then leave ...\n") + + cfg := make_config(t, 3, false, -1) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + ck := cfg.makeClient() + + cfg.join(0) + + n := 10 + ka := make([]string, n) + va := make([]string, n) + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + ka[i] = strconv.Itoa(i) // ensure multiple shards + va[i] = randstring(5) + ck.Put(ka[i], va[i]) + } + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + + cfg.join(1) + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + x := randstring(5) + ck.Append(ka[i], x) + va[i] += x + } + + cfg.leave(0) + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + x := randstring(5) + ck.Append(ka[i], x) + va[i] += x + } + + // allow time for shards to transfer. + time.Sleep(1 * time.Second) + + cfg.checklogs() + cfg.ShutdownGroup(0) + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") +} + +func TestSnapshot(t *testing.T) { + fmt.Printf("Test: snapshots, join, and leave ...\n") + + cfg := make_config(t, 3, false, 1000) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + ck := cfg.makeClient() + + cfg.join(0) + + n := 30 + ka := make([]string, n) + va := make([]string, n) + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + ka[i] = strconv.Itoa(i) // ensure multiple shards + va[i] = randstring(20) + ck.Put(ka[i], va[i]) + } + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + + cfg.join(1) + cfg.join(2) + cfg.leave(0) + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + x := randstring(20) + ck.Append(ka[i], x) + va[i] += x + } + + cfg.leave(1) + cfg.join(0) + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + x := randstring(20) + ck.Append(ka[i], x) + va[i] += x + } + + time.Sleep(1 * time.Second) + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + + time.Sleep(1 * time.Second) + + cfg.checklogs() + + cfg.ShutdownGroup(0) + cfg.ShutdownGroup(1) + cfg.ShutdownGroup(2) + + cfg.StartGroup(0) + cfg.StartGroup(1) + cfg.StartGroup(2) + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") +} + +func TestMissChange(t *testing.T) { + fmt.Printf("Test: servers miss configuration changes...\n") + + cfg := make_config(t, 3, false, 1000) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + ck := cfg.makeClient() + + cfg.join(0) + + n := 10 + ka := make([]string, n) + va := make([]string, n) + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + ka[i] = strconv.Itoa(i) // ensure multiple shards + va[i] = randstring(20) + ck.Put(ka[i], va[i]) + } + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + + cfg.join(1) + + cfg.ShutdownServer(0, 0) + cfg.ShutdownServer(1, 0) + cfg.ShutdownServer(2, 0) + + cfg.join(2) + cfg.leave(1) + cfg.leave(0) + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + x := randstring(20) + ck.Append(ka[i], x) + va[i] += x + } + + cfg.join(1) + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + x := randstring(20) + ck.Append(ka[i], x) + va[i] += x + } + + cfg.StartServer(0, 0) + cfg.StartServer(1, 0) + cfg.StartServer(2, 0) + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + x := randstring(20) + ck.Append(ka[i], x) + va[i] += x + } + + time.Sleep(2 * time.Second) + + cfg.ShutdownServer(0, 1) + cfg.ShutdownServer(1, 1) + cfg.ShutdownServer(2, 1) + + cfg.join(0) + cfg.leave(2) + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + x := randstring(20) + ck.Append(ka[i], x) + va[i] += x + } + + cfg.StartServer(0, 1) + cfg.StartServer(1, 1) + cfg.StartServer(2, 1) + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") +} + +func TestConcurrent1(t *testing.T) { + fmt.Printf("Test: concurrent puts and configuration changes...\n") + + cfg := make_config(t, 3, false, 100) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + ck := cfg.makeClient() + + cfg.join(0) + + n := 10 + ka := make([]string, n) + va := make([]string, n) + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + ka[i] = strconv.Itoa(i) // ensure multiple shards + va[i] = randstring(5) + ck.Put(ka[i], va[i]) + } + + var done int32 + ch := make(chan bool) + + ff := func(i int) { + defer func() { ch <- true }() + ck1 := cfg.makeClient() + for atomic.LoadInt32(&done) == 0 { + x := randstring(5) + ck1.Append(ka[i], x) + va[i] += x + time.Sleep(10 * time.Millisecond) + } + } + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + go ff(i) + } + + time.Sleep(150 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.join(1) + time.Sleep(500 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.join(2) + time.Sleep(500 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.leave(0) + + cfg.ShutdownGroup(0) + time.Sleep(100 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.ShutdownGroup(1) + time.Sleep(100 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.ShutdownGroup(2) + + cfg.leave(2) + + time.Sleep(100 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.StartGroup(0) + cfg.StartGroup(1) + cfg.StartGroup(2) + + time.Sleep(100 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.join(0) + cfg.leave(1) + time.Sleep(500 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.join(1) + + time.Sleep(1 * time.Second) + + atomic.StoreInt32(&done, 1) + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + <-ch + } + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") +} + +// this tests the various sources from which a re-starting +// group might need to fetch shard contents. +func TestConcurrent2(t *testing.T) { + fmt.Printf("Test: more concurrent puts and configuration changes...\n") + + cfg := make_config(t, 3, false, -1) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + ck := cfg.makeClient() + + cfg.join(1) + cfg.join(0) + cfg.join(2) + + n := 10 + ka := make([]string, n) + va := make([]string, n) + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + ka[i] = strconv.Itoa(i) // ensure multiple shards + va[i] = randstring(1) + ck.Put(ka[i], va[i]) + } + + var done int32 + ch := make(chan bool) + + ff := func(i int, ck1 *Clerk) { + defer func() { ch <- true }() + for atomic.LoadInt32(&done) == 0 { + x := randstring(1) + ck1.Append(ka[i], x) + va[i] += x + time.Sleep(50 * time.Millisecond) + } + } + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + ck1 := cfg.makeClient() + go ff(i, ck1) + } + + cfg.leave(0) + cfg.leave(2) + time.Sleep(3000 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.join(0) + cfg.join(2) + cfg.leave(1) + time.Sleep(3000 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.join(1) + cfg.leave(0) + cfg.leave(2) + time.Sleep(3000 * time.Millisecond) + + cfg.ShutdownGroup(1) + cfg.ShutdownGroup(2) + time.Sleep(1000 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.StartGroup(1) + cfg.StartGroup(2) + + time.Sleep(2 * time.Second) + + atomic.StoreInt32(&done, 1) + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + <-ch + } + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") +} + +func TestConcurrent3(t *testing.T) { + fmt.Printf("Test: concurrent configuration change and restart...\n") + + cfg := make_config(t, 3, false, 300) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + ck := cfg.makeClient() + + cfg.join(0) + + n := 10 + ka := make([]string, n) + va := make([]string, n) + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + ka[i] = strconv.Itoa(i) + va[i] = randstring(1) + ck.Put(ka[i], va[i]) + } + + var done int32 + ch := make(chan bool) + + ff := func(i int, ck1 *Clerk) { + defer func() { ch <- true }() + for atomic.LoadInt32(&done) == 0 { + x := randstring(1) + ck1.Append(ka[i], x) + va[i] += x + } + } + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + ck1 := cfg.makeClient() + go ff(i, ck1) + } + + t0 := time.Now() + for time.Since(t0) < 12*time.Second { + cfg.join(2) + cfg.join(1) + time.Sleep(time.Duration(rand.Int()%900) * time.Millisecond) + cfg.ShutdownGroup(0) + cfg.ShutdownGroup(1) + cfg.ShutdownGroup(2) + cfg.StartGroup(0) + cfg.StartGroup(1) + cfg.StartGroup(2) + + time.Sleep(time.Duration(rand.Int()%900) * time.Millisecond) + cfg.leave(1) + cfg.leave(2) + time.Sleep(time.Duration(rand.Int()%900) * time.Millisecond) + } + + time.Sleep(2 * time.Second) + + atomic.StoreInt32(&done, 1) + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + <-ch + } + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") +} + +func TestUnreliable1(t *testing.T) { + fmt.Printf("Test: unreliable 1...\n") + + cfg := make_config(t, 3, true, 100) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + ck := cfg.makeClient() + + cfg.join(0) + + n := 10 + ka := make([]string, n) + va := make([]string, n) + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + ka[i] = strconv.Itoa(i) // ensure multiple shards + va[i] = randstring(5) + ck.Put(ka[i], va[i]) + } + + cfg.join(1) + cfg.join(2) + cfg.leave(0) + + for ii := 0; ii < n*2; ii++ { + i := ii % n + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + x := randstring(5) + ck.Append(ka[i], x) + va[i] += x + } + + cfg.join(0) + cfg.leave(1) + + for ii := 0; ii < n*2; ii++ { + i := ii % n + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") +} + +func TestUnreliable2(t *testing.T) { + fmt.Printf("Test: unreliable 2...\n") + + cfg := make_config(t, 3, true, 100) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + ck := cfg.makeClient() + + cfg.join(0) + + n := 10 + ka := make([]string, n) + va := make([]string, n) + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + ka[i] = strconv.Itoa(i) // ensure multiple shards + va[i] = randstring(5) + ck.Put(ka[i], va[i]) + } + + var done int32 + ch := make(chan bool) + + ff := func(i int) { + defer func() { ch <- true }() + ck1 := cfg.makeClient() + for atomic.LoadInt32(&done) == 0 { + x := randstring(5) + ck1.Append(ka[i], x) + va[i] += x + } + } + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + go ff(i) + } + + time.Sleep(150 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.join(1) + time.Sleep(500 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.join(2) + time.Sleep(500 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.leave(0) + time.Sleep(500 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.leave(1) + time.Sleep(500 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.join(1) + cfg.join(0) + + time.Sleep(2 * time.Second) + + atomic.StoreInt32(&done, 1) + cfg.net.Reliable(true) + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + <-ch + } + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") +} + +func TestUnreliable3(t *testing.T) { + fmt.Printf("Test: unreliable 3...\n") + + cfg := make_config(t, 3, true, 100) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + begin := time.Now() + var operations []porcupine.Operation + var opMu sync.Mutex + + ck := cfg.makeClient() + + cfg.join(0) + + n := 10 + ka := make([]string, n) + va := make([]string, n) + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + ka[i] = strconv.Itoa(i) // ensure multiple shards + va[i] = randstring(5) + start := int64(time.Since(begin)) + ck.Put(ka[i], va[i]) + end := int64(time.Since(begin)) + inp := models.KvInput{Op: 1, Key: ka[i], Value: va[i]} + var out models.KvOutput + op := porcupine.Operation{Input: inp, Call: start, Output: out, Return: end, ClientId: 0} + operations = append(operations, op) + } + + var done int32 + ch := make(chan bool) + + ff := func(i int) { + defer func() { ch <- true }() + ck1 := cfg.makeClient() + for atomic.LoadInt32(&done) == 0 { + ki := rand.Int() % n + nv := randstring(5) + var inp models.KvInput + var out models.KvOutput + start := int64(time.Since(begin)) + if (rand.Int() % 1000) < 500 { + ck1.Append(ka[ki], nv) + inp = models.KvInput{Op: 2, Key: ka[ki], Value: nv} + } else if (rand.Int() % 1000) < 100 { + ck1.Put(ka[ki], nv) + inp = models.KvInput{Op: 1, Key: ka[ki], Value: nv} + } else { + v := ck1.Get(ka[ki]) + inp = models.KvInput{Op: 0, Key: ka[ki]} + out = models.KvOutput{Value: v} + } + end := int64(time.Since(begin)) + op := porcupine.Operation{Input: inp, Call: start, Output: out, Return: end, ClientId: i} + opMu.Lock() + operations = append(operations, op) + opMu.Unlock() + } + } + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + go ff(i) + } + + time.Sleep(150 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.join(1) + time.Sleep(500 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.join(2) + time.Sleep(500 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.leave(0) + time.Sleep(500 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.leave(1) + time.Sleep(500 * time.Millisecond) + cfg.join(1) + cfg.join(0) + + time.Sleep(2 * time.Second) + + atomic.StoreInt32(&done, 1) + cfg.net.Reliable(true) + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + <-ch + } + + res, info := porcupine.CheckOperationsVerbose(models.KvModel, operations, linearizabilityCheckTimeout) + if res == porcupine.Illegal { + file, err := ioutil.TempFile("", "*.html") + if err != nil { + fmt.Printf("info: failed to create temp file for visualization") + } else { + err = porcupine.Visualize(models.KvModel, info, file) + if err != nil { + fmt.Printf("info: failed to write history visualization to %s\n", file.Name()) + } else { + fmt.Printf("info: wrote history visualization to %s\n", file.Name()) + } + } + t.Fatal("history is not linearizable") + } else if res == porcupine.Unknown { + fmt.Println("info: linearizability check timed out, assuming history is ok") + } + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") +} + +// optional test to see whether servers are deleting +// shards for which they are no longer responsible. +func TestChallenge1Delete(t *testing.T) { + fmt.Printf("Test: shard deletion (challenge 1) ...\n") + + // "1" means force snapshot after every log entry. + cfg := make_config(t, 3, false, 1) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + ck := cfg.makeClient() + + cfg.join(0) + + // 30,000 bytes of total values. + n := 30 + ka := make([]string, n) + va := make([]string, n) + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + ka[i] = strconv.Itoa(i) + va[i] = randstring(1000) + ck.Put(ka[i], va[i]) + } + for i := 0; i < 3; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + + for iters := 0; iters < 2; iters++ { + cfg.join(1) + cfg.leave(0) + cfg.join(2) + time.Sleep(3 * time.Second) + for i := 0; i < 3; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + cfg.leave(1) + cfg.join(0) + cfg.leave(2) + time.Sleep(3 * time.Second) + for i := 0; i < 3; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + } + + cfg.join(1) + cfg.join(2) + time.Sleep(1 * time.Second) + for i := 0; i < 3; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + time.Sleep(1 * time.Second) + for i := 0; i < 3; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + time.Sleep(1 * time.Second) + for i := 0; i < 3; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + + total := 0 + for gi := 0; gi < cfg.ngroups; gi++ { + for i := 0; i < cfg.n; i++ { + raft := cfg.groups[gi].saved[i].RaftStateSize() + snap := len(cfg.groups[gi].saved[i].ReadSnapshot()) + total += raft + snap + } + } + + // 27 keys should be stored once. + // 3 keys should also be stored in client dup tables. + // everything on 3 replicas. + // plus slop. + expected := 3 * (((n - 3) * 1000) + 2*3*1000 + 6000) + if total > expected { + t.Fatalf("snapshot + persisted Raft state are too big: %v > %v\n", total, expected) + } + + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + } + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") +} + +// optional test to see whether servers can handle +// shards that are not affected by a config change +// while the config change is underway +func TestChallenge2Unaffected(t *testing.T) { + fmt.Printf("Test: unaffected shard access (challenge 2) ...\n") + + cfg := make_config(t, 3, true, 100) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + ck := cfg.makeClient() + + // JOIN 100 + cfg.join(0) + + // Do a bunch of puts to keys in all shards + n := 10 + ka := make([]string, n) + va := make([]string, n) + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + ka[i] = strconv.Itoa(i) // ensure multiple shards + va[i] = "100" + ck.Put(ka[i], va[i]) + } + + // JOIN 101 + cfg.join(1) + + // QUERY to find shards now owned by 101 + c := cfg.mck.Query(-1) + owned := make(map[int]bool, n) + for s, gid := range c.Shards { + owned[s] = gid == cfg.groups[1].gid + } + + // Wait for migration to new config to complete, and for clients to + // start using this updated config. Gets to any key k such that + // owned[shard(k)] == true should now be served by group 101. + <-time.After(1 * time.Second) + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + if owned[i] { + va[i] = "101" + ck.Put(ka[i], va[i]) + } + } + + // KILL 100 + cfg.ShutdownGroup(0) + + // LEAVE 100 + // 101 doesn't get a chance to migrate things previously owned by 100 + cfg.leave(0) + + // Wait to make sure clients see new config + <-time.After(1 * time.Second) + + // And finally: check that gets/puts for 101-owned keys still complete + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + shard := int(ka[i][0]) % 10 + if owned[shard] { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + ck.Put(ka[i], va[i]+"-1") + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]+"-1") + } + } + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") +} + +// optional test to see whether servers can handle operations on shards that +// have been received as a part of a config migration when the entire migration +// has not yet completed. +func TestChallenge2Partial(t *testing.T) { + fmt.Printf("Test: partial migration shard access (challenge 2) ...\n") + + cfg := make_config(t, 3, true, 100) + defer cfg.cleanup() + + ck := cfg.makeClient() + + // JOIN 100 + 101 + 102 + cfg.joinm([]int{0, 1, 2}) + + // Give the implementation some time to reconfigure + <-time.After(1 * time.Second) + + // Do a bunch of puts to keys in all shards + n := 10 + ka := make([]string, n) + va := make([]string, n) + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + ka[i] = strconv.Itoa(i) // ensure multiple shards + va[i] = "100" + ck.Put(ka[i], va[i]) + } + + // QUERY to find shards owned by 102 + c := cfg.mck.Query(-1) + owned := make(map[int]bool, n) + for s, gid := range c.Shards { + owned[s] = gid == cfg.groups[2].gid + } + + // KILL 100 + cfg.ShutdownGroup(0) + + // LEAVE 100 + 102 + // 101 can get old shards from 102, but not from 100. 101 should start + // serving shards that used to belong to 102 as soon as possible + cfg.leavem([]int{0, 2}) + + // Give the implementation some time to start reconfiguration + // And to migrate 102 -> 101 + <-time.After(1 * time.Second) + + // And finally: check that gets/puts for 101-owned keys now complete + for i := 0; i < n; i++ { + shard := key2shard(ka[i]) + if owned[shard] { + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]) + ck.Put(ka[i], va[i]+"-2") + check(t, ck, ka[i], va[i]+"-2") + } + } + + fmt.Printf(" ... Passed\n") +}