diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 1213-0.txt | 2089 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 1213-h/1213-h.htm | 1822 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 1213-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 286645 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/1213-0.txt | 2093 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/1213-h/1213-h.htm | 1822 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/1213-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 286645 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/old/1213-0.txt | 2465 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/old/1213-0.zip | bin | 0 -> 48050 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/old/1213-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 301503 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/old/1213-h/1213-h.htm | 2285 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/old/1213-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 286645 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/old/1213.txt | 2456 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/old/1213.zip | bin | 0 -> 47945 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/old/hdlyb10.txt | 2450 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/old/hdlyb10.zip | bin | 0 -> 45838 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/old/old/1213.txt | 2456 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/old/old/1213.zip | bin | 0 -> 47945 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/old/old/hdlyb10.txt | 2450 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/old/old/hdlyb10.zip | bin | 0 -> 45838 bytes |
22 files changed, 22404 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/1213-0.txt b/1213-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6e978fa --- /dev/null +++ b/1213-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2089 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1213 *** +THE MAN THAT CORRUPTED HADLEYBURG + + +I. + + +It was many years ago. Hadleyburg was the most honest and upright town +in all the region round about. It had kept that reputation unsmirched +during three generations, and was prouder of it than of any other of its +possessions. It was so proud of it, and so anxious to insure its +perpetuation, that it began to teach the principles of honest dealing to +its babies in the cradle, and made the like teachings the staple of +their culture thenceforward through all the years devoted to their +education. Also, throughout the formative years temptations were kept +out of the way of the young people, so that their honesty could have +every chance to harden and solidify, and become a part of their very +bone. The neighbouring towns were jealous of this honourable supremacy, +and affected to sneer at Hadleyburg’s pride in it and call it vanity; +but all the same they were obliged to acknowledge that Hadleyburg was in +reality an incorruptible town; and if pressed they would also +acknowledge that the mere fact that a young man hailed from Hadleyburg +was all the recommendation he needed when he went forth from his natal +town to seek for responsible employment. + +But at last, in the drift of time, Hadleyburg had the ill luck to offend +a passing stranger--possibly without knowing it, certainly without +caring, for Hadleyburg was sufficient unto itself, and cared not a rap +for strangers or their opinions. Still, it would have been well to make +an exception in this one’s case, for he was a bitter man, and +revengeful. All through his wanderings during a whole year he kept his +injury in mind, and gave all his leisure moments to trying to invent a +compensating satisfaction for it. He contrived many plans, and all of +them were good, but none of them was quite sweeping enough: the poorest +of them would hurt a great many individuals, but what he wanted was a +plan which would comprehend the entire town, and not let so much as one +person escape unhurt. At last he had a fortunate idea, and when it fell +into his brain it lit up his whole head with an evil joy. He began to +form a plan at once, saying to himself “That is the thing to do--I will +corrupt the town.” + +Six months later he went to Hadleyburg, and arrived in a buggy at the +house of the old cashier of the bank about ten at night. He got a sack +out of the buggy, shouldered it, and staggered with it through the +cottage yard, and knocked at the door. A woman’s voice said “Come in,” +and he entered, and set his sack behind the stove in the parlour, saying +politely to the old lady who sat reading the “Missionary Herald” by the +lamp: + +“Pray keep your seat, madam, I will not disturb you. There--now it is +pretty well concealed; one would hardly know it was there. Can I see +your husband a moment, madam?” + +No, he was gone to Brixton, and might not return before morning. + +“Very well, madam, it is no matter. I merely wanted to leave that sack +in his care, to be delivered to the rightful owner when he shall be +found. I am a stranger; he does not know me; I am merely passing through +the town to-night to discharge a matter which has been long in my mind. +My errand is now completed, and I go pleased and a little proud, and you +will never see me again. There is a paper attached to the sack which +will explain everything. Good-night, madam.” + +The old lady was afraid of the mysterious big stranger, and was glad to +see him go. But her curiosity was roused, and she went straight to the +sack and brought away the paper. It began as follows: + + “TO BE PUBLISHED, or, the right man sought out by private + inquiry--either will answer. This sack contains gold coin weighing a + hundred and sixty pounds four ounces--” + +“Mercy on us, and the door not locked!” + +Mrs. Richards flew to it all in a tremble and locked it, then pulled down +the window-shades and stood frightened, worried, and wondering if there +was anything else she could do toward making herself and the money more +safe. She listened awhile for burglars, then surrendered to curiosity, +and went back to the lamp and finished reading the paper: + + “I am a foreigner, and am presently going back to my own country, to + remain there permanently. I am grateful to America for what I have + received at her hands during my long stay under her flag; and to one + of her citizens--a citizen of Hadleyburg--I am especially grateful for + a great kindness done me a year or two ago. Two great kindnesses in + fact. I will explain. I was a gambler. I say I WAS. I was a ruined + gambler. I arrived in this village at night, hungry and without a + penny. I asked for help--in the dark; I was ashamed to beg in the + light. I begged of the right man. He gave me twenty dollars--that is + to say, he gave me life, as I considered it. He also gave me fortune; + for out of that money I have made myself rich at the gaming-table. And + finally, a remark which he made to me has remained with me to this + day, and has at last conquered me; and in conquering has saved the + remnant of my morals: I shall gamble no more. Now I have no idea who + that man was, but I want him found, and I want him to have this money, + to give away, throw away, or keep, as he pleases. It is merely my way + of testifying my gratitude to him. If I could stay, I would find him + myself; but no matter, he will be found. This is an honest town, an + incorruptible town, and I know I can trust it without fear. This man + can be identified by the remark which he made to me; I feel persuaded + that he will remember it. + + “And now my plan is this: If you prefer to conduct the inquiry + privately, do so. Tell the contents of this present writing to any + one who is likely to be the right man. If he shall answer, ‘I am the + man; the remark I made was so-and-so,’ apply the test--to wit: open + the sack, and in it you will find a sealed envelope containing that + remark. If the remark mentioned by the candidate tallies with it, + give him the money, and ask no further questions, for he is certainly + the right man. + + “But if you shall prefer a public inquiry, then publish this present + writing in the local paper--with these instructions added, to wit: + Thirty days from now, let the candidate appear at the town-hall at + eight in the evening (Friday), and hand his remark, in a sealed + envelope, to the Rev. Mr. Burgess (if he will be kind enough to act); + and let Mr. Burgess there and then destroy the seals of the sack, open + it, and see if the remark is correct: if correct, let the money be + delivered, with my sincere gratitude, to my benefactor thus + identified.” + +Mrs. Richards sat down, gently quivering with excitement, and was soon +lost in thinkings--after this pattern: “What a strange thing it is! +... And what a fortune for that kind man who set his bread afloat upon +the waters!... If it had only been my husband that did it!--for we are +so poor, so old and poor!...” Then, with a sigh--“But it was not my +Edward; no, it was not he that gave a stranger twenty dollars. It is a +pity too; I see it now...” Then, with a shudder--“But it is _gamblers_’ +money! the wages of sin; we couldn’t take it; we couldn’t touch it. +I don’t like to be near it; it seems a defilement.” She moved to a +farther chair... “I wish Edward would come, and take it to the bank; a +burglar might come at any moment; it is dreadful to be here all alone +with it.” + +At eleven Mr. Richards arrived, and while his wife was saying “I am +_so_ glad you’ve come!” he was saying, “I am so tired--tired clear out; +it is dreadful to be poor, and have to make these dismal journeys at my +time of life. Always at the grind, grind, grind, on a salary--another +man’s slave, and he sitting at home in his slippers, rich and +comfortable.” + +“I am so sorry for you, Edward, you know that; but be comforted; we +have our livelihood; we have our good name--” + +“Yes, Mary, and that is everything. Don’t mind my talk--it’s just a +moment’s irritation and doesn’t mean anything. Kiss me--there, it’s +all gone now, and I am not complaining any more. What have you been +getting? What’s in the sack?” + +Then his wife told him the great secret. It dazed him for a moment; +then he said: + +“It weighs a hundred and sixty pounds? Why, Mary, it’s for-ty thou-sand +dollars--think of it--a whole fortune! Not ten men in this village are +worth that much. Give me the paper.” + +He skimmed through it and said: + +“Isn’t it an adventure! Why, it’s a romance; it’s like the impossible +things one reads about in books, and never sees in life.” He was well +stirred up now; cheerful, even gleeful. He tapped his old wife on the +cheek, and said humorously, “Why, we’re rich, Mary, rich; all we’ve got +to do is to bury the money and burn the papers. If the gambler ever +comes to inquire, we’ll merely look coldly upon him and say: ‘What is +this nonsense you are talking? We have never heard of you and your sack +of gold before;’ and then he would look foolish, and--” + +“And in the meantime, while you are running on with your jokes, the +money is still here, and it is fast getting along toward burglar-time.” + +“True. Very well, what shall we do--make the inquiry private? No, +not that; it would spoil the romance. The public method is better. +Think what a noise it will make! And it will make all the other towns +jealous; for no stranger would trust such a thing to any town but +Hadleyburg, and they know it. It’s a great card for us. I must get to +the printing-office now, or I shall be too late.” + +“But stop--stop--don’t leave me here alone with it, Edward!” + +But he was gone. For only a little while, however. Not far from his +own house he met the editor--proprietor of the paper, and gave him the +document, and said “Here is a good thing for you, Cox--put it in.” + +“It may be too late, Mr. Richards, but I’ll see.” + +At home again, he and his wife sat down to talk the charming mystery +over; they were in no condition for sleep. The first question was, Who +could the citizen have been who gave the stranger the twenty dollars? +It seemed a simple one; both answered it in the same breath-- + +“Barclay Goodson.” + +“Yes,” said Richards, “he could have done it, and it would have been +like him, but there’s not another in the town.” + +“Everybody will grant that, Edward--grant it privately, anyway. +For six months, now, the village has been its own proper self once +more--honest, narrow, self-righteous, and stingy.” + +“It is what he always called it, to the day of his death--said it right +out publicly, too.” + +“Yes, and he was hated for it.” + +“Oh, of course; but he didn’t care. I reckon he was the best-hated man +among us, except the Reverend Burgess.” + +“Well, Burgess deserves it--he will never get another congregation +here. Mean as the town is, it knows how to estimate _him_. Edward, +doesn’t it seem odd that the stranger should appoint Burgess to deliver +the money?” + +“Well, yes--it does. That is--that is--” + +“Why so much that-_is_-ing? Would _you_ select him?” + +“Mary, maybe the stranger knows him better than this village does.” + +“Much _that_ would help Burgess!” + +The husband seemed perplexed for an answer; the wife kept a steady eye +upon him, and waited. Finally Richards said, with the hesitancy of one +who is making a statement which is likely to encounter doubt, + +“Mary, Burgess is not a bad man.” + +His wife was certainly surprised. + +“Nonsense!” she exclaimed. + +“He is not a bad man. I know. The whole of his unpopularity had its +foundation in that one thing--the thing that made so much noise.” + +“That ‘one thing,’ indeed! As if that ‘one thing’ wasn’t enough, all by +itself.” + +“Plenty. Plenty. Only he wasn’t guilty of it.” + +“How you talk! Not guilty of it! Everybody knows he _was_ guilty.” + +“Mary, I give you my word--he was innocent.” + +“I can’t believe it and I don’t. How do you know?” + +“It is a confession. I am ashamed, but I will make it. I was the only +man who knew he was innocent. I could have saved him, and--and--well, +you know how the town was wrought up--I hadn’t the pluck to do it. It +would have turned everybody against me. I felt mean, ever so mean; but +I didn’t dare; I hadn’t the manliness to face that.” + +Mary looked troubled, and for a while was silent. Then she said +stammeringly: + +“I--I don’t think it would have done for you to--to--One +mustn’t--er--public opinion--one has to be so careful--so--” It was +a difficult road, and she got mired; but after a little she got +started again. “It was a great pity, but--Why, we couldn’t afford it, +Edward--we couldn’t indeed. Oh, I wouldn’t have had you do it for +anything!” + +“It would have lost us the good-will of so many people, Mary; and +then--and then--” + +“What troubles me now is, what _he_ thinks of us, Edward.” + +“He? _He_ doesn’t suspect that I could have saved him.” + +“Oh,” exclaimed the wife, in a tone of relief, “I am glad of that. As +long as he doesn’t know that you could have saved him, he--he--well +that makes it a great deal better. Why, I might have known he didn’t +know, because he is always trying to be friendly with us, as little +encouragement as we give him. More than once people have twitted me +with it. There’s the Wilsons, and the Wilcoxes, and the Harknesses, +they take a mean pleasure in saying ‘_Your friend_ Burgess,’ because +they know it pesters me. I wish he wouldn’t persist in liking us so; I +can’t think why he keeps it up.” + +“I can explain it. It’s another confession. When the thing was new and +hot, and the town made a plan to ride him on a rail, my conscience +hurt me so that I couldn’t stand it, and I went privately and gave him +notice, and he got out of the town and stayed out till it was safe to +come back.” + +“Edward! If the town had found it out--” + +“_Don’t_! It scares me yet, to think of it. I repented of it the minute +it was done; and I was even afraid to tell you lest your face might +betray it to somebody. I didn’t sleep any that night, for worrying. But +after a few days I saw that no one was going to suspect me, and after +that I got to feeling glad I did it. And I feel glad yet, Mary--glad +through and through.” + +“So do I, now, for it would have been a dreadful way to treat him. +Yes, I’m glad; for really you did owe him that, you know. But, Edward, +suppose it should come out yet, some day!” + +“It won’t.” + +“Why?” + +“Because everybody thinks it was Goodson.” + +“Of course they would!” + +“Certainly. And of course _he_ didn’t care. They persuaded poor old +Sawlsberry to go and charge it on him, and he went blustering over +there and did it. Goodson looked him over, like as if he was hunting +for a place on him that he could despise the most; then he says, ‘So +you are the Committee of Inquiry, are you?’ Sawlsberry said that was +about what he was. ‘H’m. Do they require particulars, or do you reckon +a kind of a _general_ answer will do?’ ‘If they require particulars, +I will come back, Mr. Goodson; I will take the general answer first.’ +‘Very well, then, tell them to go to hell--I reckon that’s general +enough. And I’ll give you some advice, Sawlsberry; when you come back +for the particulars, fetch a basket to carry what is left of yourself +home in.’” + +“Just like Goodson; it’s got all the marks. He had only one vanity; he +thought he could give advice better than any other person.” + +“It settled the business, and saved us, Mary. The subject was dropped.” + +“Bless you, I’m not doubting _that_.” + +Then they took up the gold-sack mystery again, with strong interest. +Soon the conversation began to suffer breaks--interruptions caused by +absorbed thinkings. The breaks grew more and more frequent. At last +Richards lost himself wholly in thought. He sat long, gazing vacantly +at the floor, and by-and-by he began to punctuate his thoughts with +little nervous movements of his hands that seemed to indicate vexation. +Meantime his wife too had relapsed into a thoughtful silence, and +her movements were beginning to show a troubled discomfort. Finally +Richards got up and strode aimlessly about the room, ploughing his +hands through his hair, much as a somnambulist might do who was having +a bad dream. Then he seemed to arrive at a definite purpose; and +without a word he put on his hat and passed quickly out of the house. +His wife sat brooding, with a drawn face, and did not seem to be aware +that she was alone. Now and then she murmured, “Lead us not into t ... +but--but--we are so poor, so poor!... Lead us not into.... Ah, who +would be hurt by it?--and no one would ever know.... Lead us....” The +voice died out in mumblings. After a little she glanced up and muttered +in a half-frightened, half-glad way-- + +“He is gone! But, oh dear, he may be too late--too late.... Maybe +not--maybe there is still time.” She rose and stood thinking, nervously +clasping and unclasping her hands. A slight shudder shook her frame, +and she said, out of a dry throat, “God forgive me--it’s awful to think +such things--but.... Lord, how we are made--how strangely we are made!” + +She turned the light low, and slipped stealthily over and knelt down by +the sack and felt of its ridgy sides with her hands, and fondled them +lovingly; and there was a gloating light in her poor old eyes. She fell +into fits of absence; and came half out of them at times to mutter “If +we had only waited!--oh, if we had only waited a little, and not been +in such a hurry!” + +Meantime Cox had gone home from his office and told his wife all about +the strange thing that had happened, and they had talked it over +eagerly, and guessed that the late Goodson was the only man in the +town who could have helped a suffering stranger with so noble a sum as +twenty dollars. Then there was a pause, and the two became thoughtful +and silent. And by- and-by nervous and fidgety. At last the wife said, +as if to herself, + +“Nobody knows this secret but the Richardses ... and us ... nobody.” + +The husband came out of his thinkings with a slight start, and gazed +wistfully at his wife, whose face was become very pale; then he +hesitatingly rose, and glanced furtively at his hat, then at his +wife--a sort of mute inquiry. Mrs. Cox swallowed once or twice, with +her hand at her throat, then in place of speech she nodded her head. In +a moment she was alone, and mumbling to herself. + +And now Richards and Cox were hurrying through the deserted streets, +from opposite directions. They met, panting, at the foot of the +printing-office stairs; by the night-light there they read each other’s +face. Cox whispered: + +“Nobody knows about this but us?” + +The whispered answer was: + +“Not a soul--on honour, not a soul!” + +“If it isn’t too late to--” + +The men were starting up-stairs; at this moment they were overtaken by +a boy, and Cox asked, + +“Is that you, Johnny?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“You needn’t ship the early mail--nor _any_ mail; wait till I tell you.” + +“It’s already gone, sir.” + +“_Gone_?” It had the sound of an unspeakable disappointment in it. + +“Yes, sir. Time-table for Brixton and all the towns beyond changed to- +day, sir--had to get the papers in twenty minutes earlier than common. +I had to rush; if I had been two minutes later--” + +The men turned and walked slowly away, not waiting to hear the rest. +Neither of them spoke during ten minutes; then Cox said, in a vexed +tone, + +“What possessed you to be in such a hurry, _I_ can’t make out.” + +The answer was humble enough: + +“I see it now, but somehow I never thought, you know, until it was too +late. But the next time--” + +“Next time be hanged! It won’t come in a thousand years.” + +Then the friends separated without a good-night, and dragged themselves +home with the gait of mortally stricken men. At their homes their wives +sprang up with an eager “Well?”--then saw the answer with their eyes +and sank down sorrowing, without waiting for it to come in words. In +both houses a discussion followed of a heated sort--a new thing; there +had been discussions before, but not heated ones, not ungentle ones. +The discussions to-night were a sort of seeming plagiarisms of each +other. Mrs. Richards said: + +“If you had only waited, Edward--if you had only stopped to think; but +no, you must run straight to the printing-office and spread it all over +the world.” + +“It _said_ publish it.” + +“That is nothing; it also said do it privately, if you liked. There, +now--is that true, or not?” + +“Why, yes--yes, it is true; but when I thought what a stir it would +make, and what a compliment it was to Hadleyburg that a stranger should +trust it so--” + +“Oh, certainly, I know all that; but if you had only stopped to think, +you would have seen that you _couldn’t_ find the right man, because he +is in his grave, and hasn’t left chick nor child nor relation behind +him; and as long as the money went to somebody that awfully needed it, +and nobody would be hurt by it, and--and--” + +She broke down, crying. Her husband tried to think of some comforting +thing to say, and presently came out with this: + +“But after all, Mary, it must be for the best--it must be; we know +that. And we must remember that it was so ordered--” + +“Ordered! Oh, everything’s _ordered_, when a person has to find some +way out when he has been stupid. Just the same, it was _ordered_ +that the money should come to us in this special way, and it was you +that must take it on yourself to go meddling with the designs of +Providence--and who gave you the right? It was wicked, that is what it +was--just blasphemous presumption, and no more becoming to a meek and +humble professor of--” + +“But, Mary, you know how we have been trained all our lives long, like +the whole village, till it is absolutely second nature to us to stop +not a single moment to think when there’s an honest thing to be done--” + +“Oh, I know it, I know it--it’s been one everlasting training and +training and training in honesty--honesty shielded, from the very +cradle, against every possible temptation, and so it’s _artificial_ +honesty, and weak as water when temptation comes, as we have seen +this night. God knows I never had shade nor shadow of a doubt of my +petrified and indestructible honesty until now--and now, under the very +first big and real temptation, I--Edward, it is my belief that this +town’s honesty is as rotten as mine is; as rotten as yours. It is a +mean town, a hard, stingy town, and hasn’t a virtue in the world but +this honesty it is so celebrated for and so conceited about; and so +help me, I do believe that if ever the day comes that its honesty falls +under great temptation, its grand reputation will go to ruin like a +house of cards. There, now, I’ve made confession, and I feel better; I +am a humbug, and I’ve been one all my life, without knowing it. Let no +man call me honest again--I will not have it.” + +“I--Well, Mary, I feel a good deal as you do: I certainly do. It seems +strange, too, so strange. I never could have believed it--never.” + +A long silence followed; both were sunk in thought. At last the wife +looked up and said: + +“I know what you are thinking, Edward.” + +Richards had the embarrassed look of a person who is caught. + +“I am ashamed to confess it, Mary, but--” + +“It’s no matter, Edward, I was thinking the same question myself.” + +“I hope so. State it.” + +“You were thinking, if a body could only guess out _what the remark +was_ that Goodson made to the stranger.” + +“It’s perfectly true. I feel guilty and ashamed. And you?” + +“I’m past it. Let us make a pallet here; we’ve got to stand watch till +the bank vault opens in the morning and admits the sack... Oh dear, oh +dear--if we hadn’t made the mistake!” + +The pallet was made, and Mary said: + +“The open sesame--what could it have been? I do wonder what that remark +could have been. But come; we will get to bed now.” + +“And sleep?” + +“No; think.” + +“Yes; think.” + +By this time the Coxes too had completed their spat and their +reconciliation, and were turning in--to think, to think, and toss, and +fret, and worry over what the remark could possibly have been which +Goodson made to the stranded derelict; that golden remark; that remark +worth forty thousand dollars, cash. + +The reason that the village telegraph-office was open later than +usual that night was this: The foreman of Cox’s paper was the local +representative of the Associated Press. One might say its honorary +representative, for it wasn’t four times a year that he could furnish +thirty words that would be accepted. But this time it was different. +His despatch stating what he had caught got an instant answer: + + “Send the whole thing--all the details--twelve hundred words.” + +A colossal order! The foreman filled the bill; and he was the proudest +man in the State. By breakfast-time the next morning the name of +Hadleyburg the Incorruptible was on every lip in America, from Montreal +to the Gulf, from the glaciers of Alaska to the orange-groves of +Florida; and millions and millions of people were discussing the +stranger and his money-sack, and wondering if the right man would +be found, and hoping some more news about the matter would come +soon--right away. + + + + +II. + + +Hadleyburg village woke up world-celebrated--astonished--happy--vain. +Vain beyond imagination. Its nineteen principal citizens and their +wives went about shaking hands with each other, and beaming, and +smiling, and congratulating, and saying _this_ thing adds a new word to +the dictionary--_Hadleyburg_, synonym for _incorruptible_--destined to +live in dictionaries for ever! And the minor and unimportant citizens +and their wives went around acting in much the same way. Everybody +ran to the bank to see the gold-sack; and before noon grieved and +envious crowds began to flock in from Brixton and all neighbouring +towns; and that afternoon and next day reporters began to arrive from +everywhere to verify the sack and its history and write the whole +thing up anew, and make dashing free-hand pictures of the sack, and +of Richards’s house, and the bank, and the Presbyterian church, and +the Baptist church, and the public square, and the town-hall where the +test would be applied and the money delivered; and damnable portraits +of the Richardses, and Pinkerton the banker, and Cox, and the foreman, +and Reverend Burgess, and the postmaster--and even of Jack Halliday, +who was the loafing, good-natured, no-account, irreverent fisherman, +hunter, boys’ friend, stray-dogs’ friend, typical “Sam Lawson” of the +town. The little mean, smirking, oily Pinkerton showed the sack to all +comers, and rubbed his sleek palms together pleasantly, and enlarged +upon the town’s fine old reputation for honesty and upon this wonderful +endorsement of it, and hoped and believed that the example would now +spread far and wide over the American world, and be epoch-making in the +matter of moral regeneration. And so on, and so on. + +By the end of a week things had quieted down again; the wild +intoxication of pride and joy had sobered to a soft, sweet, silent +delight--a sort of deep, nameless, unutterable content. All faces bore +a look of peaceful, holy happiness. + +Then a change came. It was a gradual change; so gradual that its +beginnings were hardly noticed; maybe were not noticed at all, except +by Jack Halliday, who always noticed everything; and always made fun of +it, too, no matter what it was. He began to throw out chaffing remarks +about people not looking quite so happy as they did a day or two ago; +and next he claimed that the new aspect was deepening to positive +sadness; next, that it was taking on a sick look; and finally he said +that everybody was become so moody, thoughtful, and absent-minded that +he could rob the meanest man in town of a cent out of the bottom of his +breeches pocket and not disturb his reverie. + +At this stage--or at about this stage--a saying like this was dropped +at bedtime--with a sigh, usually--by the head of each of the nineteen +principal households: + +“Ah, what _could_ have been the remark that Goodson made?” + +And straightway--with a shudder--came this, from the man’s wife: + +“Oh, _don’t_! What horrible thing are you mulling in your mind? Put it +away from you, for God’s sake!” + +But that question was wrung from those men again the next night--and +got the same retort. But weaker. + +And the third night the men uttered the question yet again--with +anguish, and absently. This time--and the following night--the wives +fidgeted feebly, and tried to say something. But didn’t. + +And the night after that they found their tongues and +responded--longingly: + +“Oh, if we _could_ only guess!” + +Halliday’s comments grew daily more and more sparklingly disagreeable +and disparaging. He went diligently about, laughing at the town, +individually and in mass. But his laugh was the only one left in the +village: it fell upon a hollow and mournful vacancy and emptiness. Not +even a smile was findable anywhere. Halliday carried a cigar-box around +on a tripod, playing that it was a camera, and halted all passers and +aimed the thing and said “Ready!--now look pleasant, please,” but +not even this capital joke could surprise the dreary faces into any +softening. + +So three weeks passed--one week was left. It was Saturday evening +after supper. Instead of the aforetime Saturday-evening flutter and +bustle and shopping and larking, the streets were empty and desolate. +Richards and his old wife sat apart in their little parlour--miserable +and thinking. This was become their evening habit now: the life-long +habit which had preceded it, of reading, knitting, and contented +chat, or receiving or paying neighbourly calls, was dead and gone and +forgotten, ages ago--two or three weeks ago; nobody talked now, nobody +read, nobody visited--the whole village sat at home, sighing, worrying, +silent. Trying to guess out that remark. + +The postman left a letter. Richards glanced listlessly at the +superscription and the post-mark--unfamiliar, both--and tossed +the letter on the table and resumed his might-have-beens and his +hopeless dull miseries where he had left them off. Two or three hours +later his wife got wearily up and was going away to bed without a +good-night--custom now--but she stopped near the letter and eyed it +awhile with a dead interest, then broke it open, and began to skim it +over. Richards, sitting there with his chair tilted back against the +wall and his chin between his knees, heard something fall. It was his +wife. He sprang to her side, but she cried out: + +“Leave me alone, I am too happy. Read the letter--read it!” + +He did. He devoured it, his brain reeling. The letter was from a +distant State, and it said: + + “I am a stranger to you, but no matter: I have something to tell. I + have just arrived home from Mexico, and learned about that episode. Of + course you do not know who made that remark, but I know, and I am the + only person living who does know. It was GOODSON. I knew him well, + many years ago. I passed through your village that very night, and + was his guest till the midnight train came along. I overheard him + make that remark to the stranger in the dark--it was in Hale Alley. He + and I talked of it the rest of the way home, and while smoking in his + house. He mentioned many of your villagers in the course of his + talk--most of them in a very uncomplimentary way, but two or three + favourably: among these latter yourself. I say ‘favourably’--nothing + stronger. I remember his saying he did not actually LIKE any person + in the town--not one; but that you--I THINK he said you--am almost + sure--had done him a very great service once, possibly without knowing + the full value of it, and he wished he had a fortune, he would leave + it to you when he died, and a curse apiece for the rest of the + citizens. Now, then, if it was you that did him that service, you are + his legitimate heir, and entitled to the sack of gold. I know that I + can trust to your honour and honesty, for in a citizen of Hadleyburg + these virtues are an unfailing inheritance, and so I am going to + reveal to you the remark, well satisfied that if you are not the right + man you will seek and find the right one and see that poor Goodson’s + debt of gratitude for the service referred to is paid. This is the + remark ‘YOU ARE FAR FROM BEING A BAD MAN: GO, AND REFORM.’ + + “HOWARD L. STEPHENSON.” + +“Oh, Edward, the money is ours, and I am so grateful, _oh_, so +grateful,--kiss me, dear, it’s for ever since we kissed--and we needed +it so--the money--and now you are free of Pinkerton and his bank, and +nobody’s slave any more; it seems to me I could fly for joy.” + +It was a happy half-hour that the couple spent there on the settee +caressing each other; it was the old days come again--days that had +begun with their courtship and lasted without a break till the stranger +brought the deadly money. By-and-by the wife said: + +“Oh, Edward, how lucky it was you did him that grand service, poor +Goodson! I never liked him, but I love him now. And it was fine and +beautiful of you never to mention it or brag about it.” Then, with a +touch of reproach, “But you ought to have told _me_, Edward, you ought +to have told your wife, you know.” + +“Well, I--er--well, Mary, you see--” + +“Now stop hemming and hawing, and tell me about it, Edward. I always +loved you, and now I’m proud of you. Everybody believes there was only +one good generous soul in this village, and now it turns out that +you--Edward, why don’t you tell me?” + +“Well--er--er--Why, Mary, I can’t!” + +“You _can’t_? _Why_ can’t you?” + +“You see, he--well, he--he made me promise I wouldn’t.” + +The wife looked him over, and said, very slowly: + +“Made--you--promise? Edward, what do you tell me that for?” + +“Mary, do you think I would lie?” + +She was troubled and silent for a moment, then she laid her hand within +his and said: + +“No ... no. We have wandered far enough from our bearings--God spare us +that! In all your life you have never uttered a lie. But now--now that +the foundations of things seem to be crumbling from under us, we--we--” +She lost her voice for a moment, then said, brokenly, “Lead us not into +temptation... I think you made the promise, Edward. Let it rest so. +Let us keep away from that ground. Now--that is all gone by; let us he +happy again; it is no time for clouds.” + +Edward found it something of an effort to comply, for his mind kept +wandering--trying to remember what the service was that he had done +Goodson. + +The couple lay awake the most of the night, Mary happy and busy, +Edward busy, but not so happy. Mary was planning what she would do +with the money. Edward was trying to recall that service. At first his +conscience was sore on account of the lie he had told Mary--if it was a +lie. After much reflection--suppose it _was_ a lie? What then? Was it +such a great matter? Aren’t we always _acting_ lies? Then why not tell +them? Look at Mary--look what she had done. While he was hurrying off +on his honest errand, what was she doing? Lamenting because the papers +hadn’t been destroyed and the money kept. Is theft better than lying? + +_That_ point lost its sting--the lie dropped into the background +and left comfort behind it. The next point came to the front: _had_ +he rendered that service? Well, here was Goodson’s own evidence as +reported in Stephenson’s letter; there could be no better evidence +than that--it was even _proof_ that he had rendered it. Of course. So +that point was settled... No, not quite. He recalled with a wince that +this unknown Mr. Stephenson was just a trifle unsure as to whether the +performer of it was Richards or some other--and, oh dear, he had put +Richards on his honour! He must himself decide whither that money must +go--and Mr. Stephenson was not doubting that if he was the wrong man he +would go honourably and find the right one. Oh, it was odious to put a +man in such a situation--ah, why couldn’t Stephenson have left out that +doubt? What did he want to intrude that for? + +Further reflection. How did it happen that _Richards’s_ name remained +in Stephenson’s mind as indicating the right man, and not some other +man’s name? That looked good. Yes, that looked very good. In fact it +went on looking better and better, straight along--until by-and-by +it grew into positive _proof_. And then Richards put the matter at +once out of his mind, for he had a private instinct that a proof once +established is better left so. + +He was feeling reasonably comfortable now, but there was still one +other detail that kept pushing itself on his notice: of course he had +done that service--that was settled; but what _was_ that service? +He must recall it--he would not go to sleep till he had recalled +it; it would make his peace of mind perfect. And so he thought and +thought. He thought of a dozen things--possible services, even +probable services--but none of them seemed adequate, none of them +seemed large enough, none of them seemed worth the money--worth the +fortune Goodson had wished he could leave in his will. And besides, he +couldn’t remember having done them, anyway. Now, then--now, then--what +_kind_ of a service would it be that would make a man so inordinately +grateful? Ah--the saving of his soul! That must be it. Yes, he could +remember, now, how he once set himself the task of converting Goodson, +and laboured at it as much as--he was going to say three months; but +upon closer examination it shrunk to a month, then to a week, then to +a day, then to nothing. Yes, he remembered now, and with unwelcome +vividness, that Goodson had told him to go to thunder and mind his own +business--_he_ wasn’t hankering to follow Hadleyburg to heaven! + +So that solution was a failure--he hadn’t saved Goodson’s soul. +Richards was discouraged. Then after a little came another idea: had +he saved Goodson’s property? No, that wouldn’t do--he hadn’t any. His +life? That is it! Of course. Why, he might have thought of it before. +This time he was on the right track, sure. His imagination-mill was +hard at work in a minute, now. + +Thereafter, during a stretch of two exhausting hours, he was busy +saving Goodson’s life. He saved it in all kinds of difficult and +perilous ways. In every case he got it saved satisfactorily up to a +certain point; then, just as he was beginning to get well persuaded +that it had really happened, a troublesome detail would turn up which +made the whole thing impossible. As in the matter of drowning, for +instance. In that case he had swum out and tugged Goodson ashore in an +unconscious state with a great crowd looking on and applauding, but +when he had got it all thought out and was just beginning to remember +all about it, a whole swarm of disqualifying details arrived on the +ground: the town would have known of the circumstance, Mary would have +known of it, it would glare like a limelight in his own memory instead +of being an inconspicuous service which he had possibly rendered +“without knowing its full value.” And at this point he remembered that +he couldn’t swim anyway. + +Ah--_there_ was a point which he had been overlooking from the start: +it had to be a service which he had rendered “possibly without knowing +the full value of it.” Why, really, that ought to be an easy hunt--much +easier than those others. And sure enough, by-and-by he found it. +Goodson, years and years ago, came near marrying a very sweet and +pretty girl, named Nancy Hewitt, but in some way or other the match +had been broken off; the girl died, Goodson remained a bachelor, +and by-and-by became a soured one and a frank despiser of the human +species. Soon after the girl’s death the village found out, or thought +it had found out, that she carried a spoonful of negro blood in her +veins. Richards worked at these details a good while, and in the end +he thought he remembered things concerning them which must have gotten +mislaid in his memory through long neglect. He seemed to dimly remember +that it was _he_ that found out about the negro blood; that it was he +that told the village; that the village told Goodson where they got it; +that he thus saved Goodson from marrying the tainted girl; that he had +done him this great service “without knowing the full value of it,” in +fact without knowing that he _was_ doing it; but that Goodson knew the +value of it, and what a narrow escape he had had, and so went to his +grave grateful to his benefactor and wishing he had a fortune to leave +him. It was all clear and simple, now, and the more he went over it +the more luminous and certain it grew; and at last, when he nestled to +sleep, satisfied and happy, he remembered the whole thing just as if it +had been yesterday. In fact, he dimly remembered Goodson’s _telling_ +him his gratitude once. Meantime Mary had spent six thousand dollars on +a new house for herself and a pair of slippers for her pastor, and then +had fallen peacefully to rest. + +That same Saturday evening the postman had delivered a letter to each +of the other principal citizens--nineteen letters in all. No two of +the envelopes were alike, and no two of the superscriptions were in +the same hand, but the letters inside were just like each other in +every detail but one. They were exact copies of the letter received by +Richards--handwriting and all--and were all signed by Stephenson, but +in place of Richards’s name each receiver’s own name appeared. + +All night long eighteen principal citizens did what their caste-brother +Richards was doing at the same time--they put in their energies trying +to remember what notable service it was that they had unconsciously +done Barclay Goodson. In no case was it a holiday job; still they +succeeded. + +And while they were at this work, which was difficult, their wives put +in the night spending the money, which was easy. During that one night +the nineteen wives spent an average of seven thousand dollars each out +of the forty thousand in the sack--a hundred and thirty-three thousand +altogether. + +Next day there was a surprise for Jack Halliday. He noticed that +the faces of the nineteen chief citizens and their wives bore that +expression of peaceful and holy happiness again. He could not +understand it, neither was he able to invent any remarks about it +that could damage it or disturb it. And so it was his turn to be +dissatisfied with life. His private guesses at the reasons for the +happiness failed in all instances, upon examination. When he met +Mrs. Wilcox and noticed the placid ecstasy in her face, he said to +himself, “Her cat has had kittens”--and went and asked the cook; it +was not so, the cook had detected the happiness, but did not know +the cause. When Halliday found the duplicate ecstasy in the face of +“Shadbelly” Billson (village nickname), he was sure some neighbour of +Billson’s had broken his leg, but inquiry showed that this had not +happened. The subdued ecstasy in Gregory Yates’s face could mean but +one thing--he was a mother-in-law short; it was another mistake. “And +Pinkerton--Pinkerton--he has collected ten cents that he thought he +was going to lose.” And so on, and so on. In some cases the guesses +had to remain in doubt, in the others they proved distinct errors. In +the end Halliday said to himself, “Anyway it roots up that there’s +nineteen Hadleyburg families temporarily in heaven: I don’t know how it +happened; I only know Providence is off duty to-day.” + +An architect and builder from the next State had lately ventured to set +up a small business in this unpromising village, and his sign had now +been hanging out a week. Not a customer yet; he was a discouraged man, +and sorry he had come. But his weather changed suddenly now. First one +and then another chief citizen’s wife said to him privately: + +“Come to my house Monday week--but say nothing about it for the +present. We think of building.” + +He got eleven invitations that day. That night he wrote his daughter +and broke off her match with her student. He said she could marry a +mile higher than that. + +Pinkerton the banker and two or three other well-to-do men planned +country-seats--but waited. That kind don’t count their chickens until +they are hatched. + +The Wilsons devised a grand new thing--a fancy-dress ball. They made +no actual promises, but told all their acquaintanceship in confidence +that they were thinking the matter over and thought they should give +it--“and if we do, you will be invited, of course.” People were +surprised, and said, one to another, “Why, they are crazy, those +poor Wilsons, they can’t afford it.” Several among the nineteen said +privately to their husbands, “It is a good idea, we will keep still +till their cheap thing is over, then _we_ will give one that will make +it sick.” + +The days drifted along, and the bill of future squanderings rose higher +and higher, wilder and wilder, more and more foolish and reckless. It +began to look as if every member of the nineteen would not only spend +his whole forty thousand dollars before receiving-day, but be actually +in debt by the time he got the money. In some cases light-headed people +did not stop with planning to spend, they really spent--on credit. +They bought land, mortgages, farms, speculative stocks, fine clothes, +horses, and various other things, paid down the bonus, and made +themselves liable for the rest--at ten days. Presently the sober second +thought came, and Halliday noticed that a ghastly anxiety was beginning +to show up in a good many faces. Again he was puzzled, and didn’t know +what to make of it. “The Wilcox kittens aren’t dead, for they weren’t +born; nobody’s broken a leg; there’s no shrinkage in mother-in-laws; +_nothing_ has happened--it is an insolvable mystery.” + +There was another puzzled man, too--the Rev. Mr. Burgess. For days, +wherever he went, people seemed to follow him or to be watching out for +him; and if he ever found himself in a retired spot, a member of the +nineteen would be sure to appear, thrust an envelope privately into +his hand, whisper “To be opened at the town-hall Friday evening,” then +vanish away like a guilty thing. He was expecting that there might be +one claimant for the sack--doubtful, however, Goodson being dead--but +it never occurred to him that all this crowd might be claimants. When +the great Friday came at last, he found that he had nineteen envelopes. + + + + +III. + + +The town-hall had never looked finer. The platform at the end of it +was backed by a showy draping of flags; at intervals along the walls +were festoons of flags; the gallery fronts were clothed in flags; the +supporting columns were swathed in flags; all this was to impress the +stranger, for he would be there in considerable force, and in a large +degree he would be connected with the press. The house was full. The +412 fixed seats were occupied; also the 68 extra chairs which had +been packed into the aisles; the steps of the platform were occupied; +some distinguished strangers were given seats on the platform; at the +horseshoe of tables which fenced the front and sides of the platform +sat a strong force of special correspondents who had come from +everywhere. It was the best-dressed house the town had ever produced. +There were some tolerably expensive toilets there, and in several cases +the ladies who wore them had the look of being unfamiliar with that +kind of clothes. At least the town thought they had that look, but the +notion could have arisen from the town’s knowledge of the fact that +these ladies had never inhabited such clothes before. + +The gold-sack stood on a little table at the front of the platform +where all the house could see it. The bulk of the house gazed at it +with a burning interest, a mouth-watering interest, a wistful and +pathetic interest; a minority of nineteen couples gazed at it tenderly, +lovingly, proprietarily, and the male half of this minority kept saying +over to themselves the moving little impromptu speeches of thankfulness +for the audience’s applause and congratulations which they were +presently going to get up and deliver. Every now and then one of these +got a piece of paper out of his vest pocket and privately glanced at it +to refresh his memory. + +Of course there was a buzz of conversation going on--there always +is; but at last, when the Rev. Mr. Burgess rose and laid his hand on +the sack, he could hear his microbes gnaw, the place was so still. +He related the curious history of the sack, then went on to speak +in warm terms of Hadleyburg’s old and well-earned reputation for +spotless honesty, and of the town’s just pride in this reputation. +He said that this reputation was a treasure of priceless value; that +under Providence its value had now become inestimably enhanced, for +the recent episode had spread this fame far and wide, and thus had +focussed the eyes of the American world upon this village, and made its +name for all time, as he hoped and believed, a synonym for commercial +incorruptibility. [Applause.] “And who is to be the guardian of this +noble fame--the community as a whole? No! The responsibility is +individual, not communal. From this day forth each and every one of you +is in his own person its special guardian, and individually responsible +that no harm shall come to it. Do you--does each of you--accept this +great trust? [Tumultuous assent.] Then all is well. Transmit it to +your children and to your children’s children. To-day your purity is +beyond reproach--see to it that it shall remain so. To-day there is not +a person in your community who could be beguiled to touch a penny not +his own--see to it that you abide in this grace. [“We will! we will!”] +This is not the place to make comparisons between ourselves and other +communities--some of them ungracious towards us; they have their ways, +we have ours; let us be content. [Applause.] I am done. Under my hand, +my friends, rests a stranger’s eloquent recognition of what we are; +through him the world will always henceforth know what we are. We do +not know who he is, but in your name I utter your gratitude, and ask +you to raise your voices in indorsement.” + +The house rose in a body and made the walls quake with the thunders +of its thankfulness for the space of a long minute. Then it sat down, +and Mr. Burgess took an envelope out of his pocket. The house held +its breath while he slit the envelope open and took from it a slip of +paper. He read its contents--slowly and impressively--the audience +listening with tranced attention to this magic document, each of whose +words stood for an ingot of gold: + +“‘The remark which I made to the distressed stranger was this: +“You are very far from being a bad man; go, and reform.”’” Then he +continued:--“We shall know in a moment now whether the remark here +quoted corresponds with the one concealed in the sack; and if that +shall prove to be so--and it undoubtedly will--this sack of gold +belongs to a fellow-citizen who will henceforth stand before the nation +as the symbol of the special virtue which has made our town famous +throughout the land--Mr. Billson!” + +The house had gotten itself all ready to burst into the proper tornado +of applause; but instead of doing it, it seemed stricken with a +paralysis; there was a deep hush for a moment or two, then a wave of +whispered murmurs swept the place--of about this tenor: “_Billson_! +oh, come, this is _too_ thin! Twenty dollars to a stranger--or +_anybody_--_Billson_! Tell it to the marines!” And now at this point +the house caught its breath all of a sudden in a new access of +astonishment, for it discovered that whereas in one part of the hall +Deacon Billson was standing up with his head meekly bowed, in another +part of it Lawyer Wilson was doing the same. There was a wondering +silence now for a while. Everybody was puzzled, and nineteen couples +were surprised and indignant. + +Billson and Wilson turned and stared at each other. Billson asked, +bitingly: + +“Why do _you_ rise, Mr. Wilson?” + +“Because I have a right to. Perhaps you will be good enough to explain +to the house why _you_ rise.” + +“With great pleasure. Because I wrote that paper.” + +“It is an impudent falsity! I wrote it myself.” + +It was Burgess’s turn to be paralysed. He stood looking vacantly at +first one of the men and then the other, and did not seem to know what +to do. The house was stupefied. Lawyer Wilson spoke up now, and said: + +“I ask the Chair to read the name signed to that paper.” + +That brought the Chair to itself, and it read out the name: + +“John Wharton _Billson_.” + +“There!” shouted Billson, “what have you got to say for yourself now? +And what kind of apology are you going to make to me and to this +insulted house for the imposture which you have attempted to play here?” + +“No apologies are due, sir; and as for the rest of it, I publicly +charge you with pilfering my note from Mr. Burgess and substituting a +copy of it signed with your own name. There is no other way by which +you could have gotten hold of the test-remark; I alone, of living men, +possessed the secret of its wording.” + +There was likely to be a scandalous state of things if this went +on; everybody noticed with distress that the shorthand scribes were +scribbling like mad; many people were crying “Chair, chair! Order! +order!” Burgess rapped with his gavel, and said: + +“Let us not forget the proprieties due. There has evidently been a +mistake somewhere, but surely that is all. If Mr. Wilson gave me an +envelope--and I remember now that he did--I still have it.” + +He took one out of his pocket, opened it, glanced at it, looked +surprised and worried, and stood silent a few moments. Then he waved +his hand in a wandering and mechanical way, and made an effort or two +to say something, then gave it up, despondently. Several voices cried +out: + +“Read it! read it! What is it?” + +So he began, in a dazed and sleep-walker fashion: + +“‘The remark which I made to the unhappy stranger was this: “You are +far from being a bad man. [The house gazed at him marvelling.] Go, and +reform.”’ [Murmurs: “Amazing! what can this mean?”] This one,” said the +Chair, “is signed Thurlow G. Wilson.” + +“There!” cried Wilson, “I reckon that settles it! I knew perfectly well +my note was purloined.” + +“Purloined!” retorted Billson. “I’ll let you know that neither you nor +any man of your kidney must venture to--” + +The Chair: “Order, gentlemen, order! Take your seats, both of you, +please.” + +They obeyed, shaking their heads and grumbling angrily. The house +was profoundly puzzled; it did not know what to do with this curious +emergency. Presently Thompson got up. Thompson was the hatter. He would +have liked to be a Nineteener; but such was not for him; his stock of +hats was not considerable enough for the position. He said: + +“Mr. Chairman, if I may be permitted to make a suggestion, can both of +these gentlemen be right? I put it to you, sir, can both have happened +to say the very same words to the stranger? It seems to me--” + +The tanner got up and interrupted him. The tanner was a disgruntled +man; he believed himself entitled to be a Nineteener, but he couldn’t +get recognition. It made him a little unpleasant in his ways and +speech. Said he: + +“Sho, _that’s_ not the point! _That_ could happen--twice in a hundred +years--but not the other thing. _Neither_ of them gave the twenty +dollars!” [A ripple of applause.] + +Billson. “I did!” + +Wilson. “I did!” + +Then each accused the other of pilfering. + +The Chair. “Order! Sit down, if you please--both of you. Neither of the +notes has been out of my possession at any moment.” + +A Voice. “Good--that settles _that_!” + +The Tanner. “Mr. Chairman, one thing is now plain: one of these men +has been eavesdropping under the other one’s bed, and filching family +secrets. If it is not unparliamentary to suggest it, I will remark +that both are equal to it. [The Chair. “Order! order!”] I withdraw the +remark, sir, and will confine myself to suggesting that _if_ one of +them has overheard the other reveal the test-remark to his wife, we +shall catch him now.” + +A Voice. “How?” + +The Tanner. “Easily. The two have not quoted the remark in exactly +the same words. You would have noticed that, if there hadn’t been a +considerable stretch of time and an exciting quarrel inserted between +the two readings.” + +A Voice. “Name the difference.” + +The Tanner. “The word _very_ is in Billson’s note, and not in the +other.” + +Many Voices. “That’s so--he’s right!” + +The Tanner. “And so, if the Chair will examine the test-remark in +the sack, we shall know which of these two frauds--[The Chair. +“Order!”]--which of these two adventurers--[The Chair. “Order! +order!”]--which of these two gentlemen--[laughter and applause]--is +entitled to wear the belt as being the first dishonest blatherskite +ever bred in this town--which he has dishonoured, and which will be a +sultry place for him from now out!” [Vigorous applause.] + +Many Voices. “Open it!--open the sack!” + +Mr. Burgess made a slit in the sack, slid his hand in, and brought out +an envelope. In it were a couple of folded notes. He said: + +“One of these is marked, ‘Not to be examined until all written +communications which have been addressed to the Chair--if any--shall +have been read.’ The other is marked ‘_The Test_.’ Allow me. It is +worded--to wit: + +“‘I do not require that the first half of the remark which was made +to me by my benefactor shall be quoted with exactness, for it was not +striking, and could be forgotten; but its closing fifteen words are +quite striking, and I think easily rememberable; unless _these_ shall +be accurately reproduced, let the applicant be regarded as an impostor. +My benefactor began by saying he seldom gave advice to anyone, but that +it always bore the hall-mark of high value when he did give it. Then he +said this--and it has never faded from my memory: ‘_You are far from +being a bad man_--’’” + +Fifty Voices. “That settles it--the money’s Wilson’s! Wilson! Wilson! +Speech! Speech!” + +People jumped up and crowded around Wilson, wringing his hand and +congratulating fervently--meantime the Chair was hammering with the +gavel and shouting: + +“Order, gentlemen! Order! Order! Let me finish reading, please.” When +quiet was restored, the reading was resumed--as follows: + +“‘_Go, and reform--or, mark my words--some day, for your sins you will +die and go to hell or Hadleyburg_--TRY AND MAKE IT THE FORMER.’” + +A ghastly silence followed. First an angry cloud began to settle darkly +upon the faces of the citizenship; after a pause the cloud began to +rise, and a tickled expression tried to take its place; tried so hard +that it was only kept under with great and painful difficulty; the +reporters, the Brixtonites, and other strangers bent their heads down +and shielded their faces with their hands, and managed to hold in by +main strength and heroic courtesy. At this most inopportune time burst +upon the stillness the roar of a solitary voice--Jack Halliday’s: + +“_That’s_ got the hall-mark on it!” + +Then the house let go, strangers and all. Even Mr. Burgess’s gravity +broke down presently, then the audience considered itself officially +absolved from all restraint, and it made the most of its privilege. It +was a good long laugh, and a tempestuously wholehearted one, but it +ceased at last--long enough for Mr. Burgess to try to resume, and for +the people to get their eyes partially wiped; then it broke out again, +and afterward yet again; then at last Burgess was able to get out these +serious words: + +“It is useless to try to disguise the fact--we find ourselves in the +presence of a matter of grave import. It involves the honour of your +town--it strikes at the town’s good name. The difference of a single +word between the test-remarks offered by Mr. Wilson and Mr. Billson was +itself a serious thing, since it indicated that one or the other of +these gentlemen had committed a theft--” + +The two men were sitting limp, nerveless, crushed; but at these words +both were electrified into movement, and started to get up. + +“Sit down!” said the Chair, sharply, and they obeyed. “That, as I +have said, was a serious thing. And it was--but for only one of them. +But the matter has become graver; for the honour of _both_ is now in +formidable peril. Shall I go even further, and say in inextricable +peril? _Both_ left out the crucial fifteen words.” He paused. During +several moments he allowed the pervading stillness to gather and +deepen its impressive effects, then added: “There would seem to be but +one way whereby this could happen. I ask these gentlemen--Was there +_collusion_?--_agreement_?” + +A low murmur sifted through the house; its import was, “He’s got them +both.” + +Billson was not used to emergencies; he sat in a helpless collapse. But +Wilson was a lawyer. He struggled to his feet, pale and worried, and +said: + +“I ask the indulgence of the house while I explain this most painful +matter. I am sorry to say what I am about to say, since it must inflict +irreparable injury upon Mr. Billson, whom I have always esteemed and +respected until now, and in whose invulnerability to temptation I +entirely believed--as did you all. But for the preservation of my own +honour I must speak--and with frankness. I confess with shame--and I +now beseech your pardon for it--that I said to the ruined stranger all +of the words contained in the test-remark, including the disparaging +fifteen. [Sensation.] When the late publication was made I recalled +them, and I resolved to claim the sack of coin, for by every right +I was entitled to it. Now I will ask you to consider this point, +and weigh it well; that stranger’s gratitude to me that night knew +no bounds; he said himself that he could find no words for it that +were adequate, and that if he should ever be able he would repay me +a thousandfold. Now, then, I ask you this; could I expect--could I +believe--could I even remotely imagine--that, feeling as he did, he +would do so ungrateful a thing as to add those quite unnecessary +fifteen words to his test?--set a trap for me?--expose me as a +slanderer of my own town before my own people assembled in a public +hall? It was preposterous; it was impossible. His test would contain +only the kindly opening clause of my remark. Of that I had no shadow of +doubt. You would have thought as I did. You would not have expected a +base betrayal from one whom you had befriended and against whom you had +committed no offence. And so with perfect confidence, perfect trust, +I wrote on a piece of paper the opening words--ending with “Go, and +reform,”--and signed it. When I was about to put it in an envelope I +was called into my back office, and without thinking I left the paper +lying open on my desk.” He stopped, turned his head slowly toward +Billson, waited a moment, then added: “I ask you to note this; when I +returned, a little latter, Mr. Billson was retiring by my street door.” +[Sensation.] + +In a moment Billson was on his feet and shouting: + +“It’s a lie! It’s an infamous lie!” + +The Chair. “Be seated, sir! Mr. Wilson has the floor.” + +Billson’s friends pulled him into his seat and quieted him, and Wilson +went on: + +“Those are the simple facts. My note was now lying in a different place +on the table from where I had left it. I noticed that, but attached +no importance to it, thinking a draught had blown it there. That +Mr. Billson would read a private paper was a thing which could not +occur to me; he was an honourable man, and he would be above that. If +you will allow me to say it, I think his extra word ‘_very_’ stands +explained: it is attributable to a defect of memory. I was the only man +in the world who could furnish here any detail of the test-mark--by +_honourable_ means. I have finished.” + +There is nothing in the world like a persuasive speech to fuddle the +mental apparatus and upset the convictions and debauch the emotions +of an audience not practised in the tricks and delusions of oratory. +Wilson sat down victorious. The house submerged him in tides of +approving applause; friends swarmed to him and shook him by the hand +and congratulated him, and Billson was shouted down and not allowed to +say a word. The Chair hammered and hammered with its gavel, and kept +shouting: + +“But let us proceed, gentlemen, let us proceed!” + +At last there was a measurable degree of quiet, and the hatter said: + +“But what is there to proceed with, sir, but to deliver the money?” + +Voices. “That’s it! That’s it! Come forward, Wilson!” + +The Hatter. “I move three cheers for Mr. Wilson, Symbol of the special +virtue which--” + +The cheers burst forth before he could finish; and in the midst +of them--and in the midst of the clamour of the gavel also--some +enthusiasts mounted Wilson on a big friend’s shoulder and were going to +fetch him in triumph to the platform. The Chair’s voice now rose above +the noise: + +“Order! To your places! You forget that there is still a document to +be read.” When quiet had been restored he took up the document, and +was going to read it, but laid it down again saying “I forgot; this is +not to be read until all written communications received by me have +first been read.” He took an envelope out of his pocket, removed its +enclosure, glanced at it--seemed astonished--held it out and gazed at +it--stared at it. + +Twenty or thirty voices cried out + +“What is it? Read it! read it!” + +And he did--slowly, and wondering: + +“‘The remark which I made to the stranger--[Voices. “Hello! how’s +this?”]--was this: ‘You are far from being a bad man. [Voices. “Great +Scott!”] Go, and reform.’” [Voice. “Oh, saw my leg off!”] Signed by Mr. +Pinkerton the banker.” + +The pandemonium of delight which turned itself loose now was of a sort +to make the judicious weep. Those whose withers were unwrung laughed +till the tears ran down; the reporters, in throes of laughter, set down +disordered pot-hooks which would never in the world be decipherable; +and a sleeping dog jumped up scared out of its wits, and barked itself +crazy at the turmoil. All manner of cries were scattered through the +din: “We’re getting rich--_two_ Symbols of Incorruptibility!--without +counting Billson!” “_Three_!--count Shadbelly in--we can’t have too +many!” “All right--Billson’s elected!” “Alas, poor Wilson! victim of +_two_ thieves!” + +A Powerful Voice. “Silence! The Chair’s fished up something more out of +its pocket.” + +Voices. “Hurrah! Is it something fresh? Read it! read! read!” + +The Chair [reading]. “‘The remark which I made,’ etc. ‘You are far from +being a bad man. Go,’ etc. Signed, ‘Gregory Yates.’” + +Tornado of Voices. “Four Symbols!” “’Rah for Yates!” “Fish again!” + +The house was in a roaring humour now, and ready to get all the fun out +of the occasion that might be in it. Several Nineteeners, looking pale +and distressed, got up and began to work their way towards the aisles, +but a score of shouts went up: + +“The doors, the doors--close the doors; no Incorruptible shall leave +this place! Sit down, everybody!” The mandate was obeyed. + +“Fish again! Read! read!” + +The Chair fished again, and once more the familiar words began to fall +from its lips--“‘You are far from being a bad man--’” + +“Name! name! What’s his name?” + +“‘L. Ingoldsby Sargent.’” + +“Five elected! Pile up the Symbols! Go on, go on!” + +“‘You are far from being a bad--’” + +“Name! name!” + +“‘Nicholas Whitworth.’” + +“Hooray! hooray! it’s a symbolical day!” + +Somebody wailed in, and began to sing this rhyme (leaving out “it’s”) +to the lovely “Mikado” tune of “When a man’s afraid of a beautiful +maid;” the audience joined in, with joy; then, just in time, somebody +contributed another line-- + + “And don’t you this forget--” + +The house roared it out. A third line was at once furnished-- + + “Corruptibles far from Hadleyburg are--” + +The house roared that one too. As the last note died, Jack Halliday’s +voice rose high and clear, freighted with a final line-- + + “But the Symbols are here, you bet!” + +That was sung, with booming enthusiasm. Then the happy house started in +at the beginning and sang the four lines through twice, with immense +swing and dash, and finished up with a crashing three-times-three and a +tiger for “Hadleyburg the Incorruptible and all Symbols of it which we +shall find worthy to receive the hall-mark to-night.” + +Then the shoutings at the Chair began again, all over the place: + +“Go on! go on! Read! read some more! Read all you’ve got!” + +“That’s it--go on! We are winning eternal celebrity!” + +A dozen men got up now and began to protest. They said that this farce +was the work of some abandoned joker, and was an insult to the whole +community. Without a doubt these signatures were all forgeries-- + +“Sit down! sit down! Shut up! You are confessing. We’ll find your +names in the lot.” + +“Mr. Chairman, how many of those envelopes have you got?” + +The Chair counted. + +“Together with those that have been already examined, there are +nineteen.” + +A storm of derisive applause broke out. + +“Perhaps they all contain the secret. I move that you open them all and +read every signature that is attached to a note of that sort--and read +also the first eight words of the note.” + +“Second the motion!” + +It was put and carried--uproariously. Then poor old Richards got up, and +his wife rose and stood at his side. Her head was bent down, so that +none might see that she was crying. Her husband gave her his arm, and so +supporting her, he began to speak in a quavering voice: + +“My friends, you have known us two--Mary and me--all our lives, and I +think you have liked us and respected us--” + +The Chair interrupted him: + +“Allow me. It is quite true--that which you are saying, Mr. Richards; +this town _does_ know you two; it _does_ like you; it _does_ respect you; +more--it honours you and _loves_ you--” + +Halliday’s voice rang out: + +“That’s the hall-marked truth, too! If the Chair is right, let the house +speak up and say it. Rise! Now, then--hip! hip! hip!--all together!” + +The house rose in mass, faced toward the old couple eagerly, filled the +air with a snow-storm of waving handkerchiefs, and delivered the cheers +with all its affectionate heart. + +The Chair then continued: + +“What I was going to say is this: We know your good heart, Mr. Richards, +but this is not a time for the exercise of charity toward offenders. +[Shouts of “Right! right!”] I see your generous purpose in your face, +but I cannot allow you to plead for these men--” + +“But I was going to--” + +“Please take your seat, Mr. Richards. We must examine the rest of these +notes--simple fairness to the men who have already been exposed requires +this. As soon as that has been done--I give you my word for this--you +shall he heard.” + +Many voices. “Right!--the Chair is right--no interruption can be +permitted at this stage! Go on!--the names! the names!--according to the +terms of the motion!” + +The old couple sat reluctantly down, and the husband whispered to the +wife, “It is pitifully hard to have to wait; the shame will be greater +than ever when they find we were only going to plead for _ourselves_.” + +Straightway the jollity broke loose again with the reading of the names. + +“‘You are far from being a bad man--’ Signature, ‘Robert J. Titmarsh.’” + +“‘You are far from being a bad man--’ Signature, ‘Eliphalet Weeks.’” + +“‘You are far from being a bad man--’ Signature, ‘Oscar B. Wilder.’” + +At this point the house lit upon the idea of taking the eight words out +of the Chairman’s hands. He was not unthankful for that. Thenceforward +he held up each note in its turn and waited. The house droned out the +eight words in a massed and measured and musical deep volume of sound +(with a daringly close resemblance to a well-known church chant)--“You +are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-a-d man.” Then the Chair said, “Signature, +‘Archibald Wilcox.’” And so on, and so on, name after name, and +everybody had an increasingly and gloriously good time except the +wretched Nineteen. Now and then, when a particularly shining name was +called, the house made the Chair wait while it chanted the whole of the +test-remark from the beginning to the closing words, “And go to hell or +Hadleyburg--try and make it the for-or-m-e-r!” and in these special cases +they added a grand and agonised and imposing “A-a-a-a-_men_!” + +The list dwindled, dwindled, dwindled, poor old Richards keeping tally of +the count, wincing when a name resembling his own was pronounced, and +waiting in miserable suspense for the time to come when it would be his +humiliating privilege to rise with Mary and finish his plea, which he was +intending to word thus: “... for until now we have never done any wrong +thing, but have gone our humble way unreproached. We are very poor, we +are old, and, have no chick nor child to help us; we were sorely tempted, +and we fell. It was my purpose when I got up before to make confession +and beg that my name might not be read out in this public place, for it +seemed to us that we could not bear it; but I was prevented. It was +just; it was our place to suffer with the rest. It has been hard for us. +It is the first time we have ever heard our name fall from any one’s +lips--sullied. Be merciful--for the sake or the better days; make our +shame as light to bear as in your charity you can.” At this point in his +reverie Mary nudged him, perceiving that his mind was absent. The house +was chanting, “You are f-a-r,” etc. + +“Be ready,” Mary whispered. “Your name comes now; he has read eighteen.” + +The chant ended. + +“Next! next! next!” came volleying from all over the house. + +Burgess put his hand into his pocket. The old couple, trembling, began +to rise. Burgess fumbled a moment, then said: + +“I find I have read them all.” + +Faint with joy and surprise, the couple sank into their seats, and Mary +whispered: + +“Oh, bless God, we are saved!--he has lost ours--I wouldn’t give this for +a hundred of those sacks!” + +The house burst out with its “Mikado” travesty, and sang it three times +with ever-increasing enthusiasm, rising to its feet when it reached for +the third time the closing line-- + + “But the Symbols are here, you bet!” + +and finishing up with cheers and a tiger for “Hadleyburg purity and our +eighteen immortal representatives of it.” + +Then Wingate, the saddler, got up and proposed cheers “for the cleanest +man in town, the one solitary important citizen in it who didn’t try to +steal that money--Edward Richards.” + +They were given with great and moving heartiness; then somebody proposed +that “Richards be elected sole Guardian and Symbol of the now Sacred +Hadleyburg Tradition, with power and right to stand up and look the whole +sarcastic world in the face.” + +Passed, by acclamation; then they sang the “Mikado” again, and ended it +with-- + + “And there’s _one_ Symbol left, you bet!” + +There was a pause; then-- + +A Voice. “Now, then, who’s to get the sack?” + +The Tanner (with bitter sarcasm). “That’s easy. The money has to be +divided among the eighteen Incorruptibles. They gave the suffering +stranger twenty dollars apiece--and that remark--each in his turn--it +took twenty-two minutes for the procession to move past. Staked the +stranger--total contribution, $360. All they want is just the loan +back--and interest--forty thousand dollars altogether.” + +Many Voices [derisively.] “That’s it! Divvy! divvy! Be kind to the +poor--don’t keep them waiting!” + +The Chair. “Order! I now offer the stranger’s remaining document. +It says: ‘If no claimant shall appear [grand chorus of groans], I +desire that you open the sack and count out the money to the principal +citizens of your town, they to take it in trust [Cries of “Oh! Oh! +Oh!”], and use it in such ways as to them shall seem best for the +propagation and preservation of your community’s noble reputation +for incorruptible honesty [more cries]--a reputation to which their +names and their efforts will add a new and far-reaching lustre.” +[Enthusiastic outburst of sarcastic applause.] That seems to be all. +No--here is a postscript: + +“‘P.S.--CITIZENS OF HADLEYBURG: There _is_ no test-remark--nobody +made one. [Great sensation.] There wasn’t any pauper stranger, nor +any twenty-dollar contribution, nor any accompanying benediction +and compliment--these are all inventions. [General buzz and hum of +astonishment and delight.] Allow me to tell my story--it will take +but a word or two. I passed through your town at a certain time, and +received a deep offence which I had not earned. Any other man would +have been content to kill one or two of you and call it square, but +to me that would have been a trivial revenge, and inadequate; for the +dead do not _suffer_. Besides I could not kill you all--and, anyway, +made as I am, even that would not have satisfied me. I wanted to damage +every man in the place, and every woman--and not in their bodies or in +their estate, but in their vanity--the place where feeble and foolish +people are most vulnerable. So I disguised myself and came back and +studied you. You were easy game. You had an old and lofty reputation +for honesty, and naturally you were proud of it--it was your treasure +of treasures, the very apple of your eye. As soon as I found out that +you carefully and vigilantly kept yourselves and your children _out +of temptation_, I knew how to proceed. Why, you simple creatures, the +weakest of all weak things is a virtue which has not been tested in +the fire. I laid a plan, and gathered a list of names. My project was +to corrupt Hadleyburg the Incorruptible. My idea was to make liars +and thieves of nearly half a hundred smirchless men and women who had +never in their lives uttered a lie or stolen a penny. I was afraid of +Goodson. He was neither born nor reared in Hadleyburg. I was afraid +that if I started to operate my scheme by getting my letter laid before +you, you would say to yourselves, ‘Goodson is the only man among us who +would give away twenty dollars to a poor devil’--and then you might +not bite at my bait. But heaven took Goodson; then I knew I was safe, +and I set my trap and baited it. It may be that I shall not catch all +the men to whom I mailed the pretended test-secret, but I shall catch +the most of them, if I know Hadleyburg nature. [Voices. “Right--he got +every last one of them.”] I believe they will even steal ostensible +_gamble_-money, rather than miss, poor, tempted, and mistrained +fellows. I am hoping to eternally and everlastingly squelch your vanity +and give Hadleyburg a new renown--one that will _stick_--and spread +far. If I have succeeded, open the sack and summon the Committee on +Propagation and Preservation of the Hadleyburg Reputation.’” + +A Cyclone of Voices. “Open it! Open it! The Eighteen to the front! +Committee on Propagation of the Tradition! Forward--the Incorruptibles!” + +The Chair ripped the sack wide, and gathered up a handful of bright, +broad, yellow coins, shook them together, then examined them. + +“Friends, they are only gilded disks of lead!” + +There was a crashing outbreak of delight over this news, and when the +noise had subsided, the tanner called out: + +“By right of apparent seniority in this business, Mr. Wilson is +Chairman of the Committee on Propagation of the Tradition. I suggest +that he step forward on behalf of his pals, and receive in trust the +money.” + +A Hundred Voices. “Wilson! Wilson! Wilson! Speech! Speech!” + +Wilson [in a voice trembling with anger]. “You will allow me to say, +and without apologies for my language, _damn_ the money!” + +A Voice. “Oh, and him a Baptist!” + +A Voice. “Seventeen Symbols left! Step up, gentlemen, and assume your +trust!” + +There was a pause--no response. + +The Saddler. “Mr. Chairman, we’ve got _one_ clean man left, anyway, out +of the late aristocracy; and he needs money, and deserves it. I move +that you appoint Jack Halliday to get up there and auction off that +sack of gilt twenty-dollar pieces, and give the result to the right +man--the man whom Hadleyburg delights to honour--Edward Richards.” + +This was received with great enthusiasm, the dog taking a hand again; +the saddler started the bids at a dollar, the Brixton folk and Barnum’s +representative fought hard for it, the people cheered every jump that +the bids made, the excitement climbed moment by moment higher and +higher, the bidders got on their mettle and grew steadily more and more +daring, more and more determined, the jumps went from a dollar up to +five, then to ten, then to twenty, then fifty, then to a hundred, then-- + +At the beginning of the auction Richards whispered in distress to +his wife: “Oh, Mary, can we allow it? It--it--you see, it is an +honour--reward, a testimonial to purity of character, and--and--can +we allow it? Hadn’t I better get up and--Oh, Mary, what ought we +to do?--what do you think we--” [Halliday’s voice. “Fifteen I’m +bid!--fifteen for the sack!--twenty!--ah, thanks!--thirty--thanks +again! Thirty, thirty, thirty!--do I hear forty?--forty it is! Keep +the ball rolling, gentlemen, keep it rolling!--fifty!--thanks, noble +Roman!--going at fifty, fifty, fifty!--seventy!--ninety!--splendid!--a +hundred!--pile it up, pile it up!--hundred and twenty--forty!--just +in time!--hundred and fifty!--Two hundred!--superb! Do I hear two +h--thanks!--two hundred and fifty!--”] + +“It is another temptation, Edward--I’m all in a tremble--but, oh, we’ve +escaped one temptation, and that ought to warn us, to--[“Six did I +hear?--thanks!--six fifty, six f--SEVEN hundred!”] And yet, Edward, +when you think--nobody susp--[“Eight hundred dollars!--hurrah!--make +it nine!--Mr. Parsons, did I hear you say--thanks!--nine!--this noble +sack of virgin lead going at only nine hundred dollars, gilding and +all--come! do I hear--a thousand!--gratefully yours!--did some one say +eleven?--a sack which is going to be the most celebrated in the whole +Uni--”] “Oh, Edward” (beginning to sob), “we are so poor!--but--but--do +as you think best--do as you think best.” + +Edward fell--that is, he sat still; sat with a conscience which was not +satisfied, but which was overpowered by circumstances. + +Meantime a stranger, who looked like an amateur detective gotten +up as an impossible English earl, had been watching the evening’s +proceedings with manifest interest, and with a contented expression in +his face; and he had been privately commenting to himself. He was now +soliloquising somewhat like this: “None of the Eighteen are bidding; +that is not satisfactory; I must change that--the dramatic unities +require it; they must buy the sack they tried to steal; they must pay +a heavy price, too--some of them are rich. And another thing, when I +make a mistake in Hadleyburg nature the man that puts that error upon +me is entitled to a high honorarium, and some one must pay. This poor +old Richards has brought my judgment to shame; he is an honest man:--I +don’t understand it, but I acknowledge it. Yes, he saw my deuces--_and_ +with a straight flush, and by rights the pot is his. And it shall be +a jack-pot, too, if I can manage it. He disappointed me, but let that +pass.” + +He was watching the bidding. At a thousand, the market broke: the +prices tumbled swiftly. He waited--and still watched. One competitor +dropped out; then another, and another. He put in a bid or two now. +When the bids had sunk to ten dollars, he added a five; some one raised +him a three; he waited a moment, then flung in a fifty-dollar jump, +and the sack was his--at $1,282. The house broke out in cheers--then +stopped; for he was on his feet, and had lifted his hand. He began to +speak. + +“I desire to say a word, and ask a favour. I am a speculator in +rarities, and I have dealings with persons interested in numismatics +all over the world. I can make a profit on this purchase, just as it +stands; but there is a way, if I can get your approval, whereby I can +make every one of these leaden twenty-dollar pieces worth its face +in gold, and perhaps more. Grant me that approval, and I will give +part of my gains to your Mr. Richards, whose invulnerable probity you +have so justly and so cordially recognised to-night; his share shall +be ten thousand dollars, and I will hand him the money to-morrow. +[Great applause from the house. But the “invulnerable probity” made +the Richardses blush prettily; however, it went for modesty, and did +no harm.] If you will pass my proposition by a good majority--I would +like a two-thirds vote--I will regard that as the town’s consent, and +that is all I ask. Rarities are always helped by any device which will +rouse curiosity and compel remark. Now if I may have your permission to +stamp upon the faces of each of these ostensible coins the names of the +eighteen gentlemen who--” + +Nine-tenths of the audience were on their feet in a moment--dog and +all--and the proposition was carried with a whirlwind of approving +applause and laughter. + +They sat down, and all the Symbols except “Dr.” Clay Harkness got up, +violently protesting against the proposed outrage, and threatening to-- + +“I beg you not to threaten me,” said the stranger calmly. “I know my +legal rights, and am not accustomed to being frightened at bluster.” +[Applause.] He sat down. “Dr.” Harkness saw an opportunity here. He +was one of the two very rich men of the place, and Pinkerton was the +other. Harkness was proprietor of a mint; that is to say, a popular +patent medicine. He was running for the Legislature on one ticket, and +Pinkerton on the other. It was a close race and a hot one, and getting +hotter every day. Both had strong appetites for money; each had bought +a great tract of land, with a purpose; there was going to be a new +railway, and each wanted to be in the Legislature and help locate the +route to his own advantage; a single vote might make the decision, and +with it two or three fortunes. The stake was large, and Harkness was a +daring speculator. He was sitting close to the stranger. He leaned over +while one or another of the other Symbols was entertaining the house +with protests and appeals, and asked, in a whisper, + +“What is your price for the sack?” + +“Forty thousand dollars.” + +“I’ll give you twenty.” + +“No.” + +“Twenty-five.” + +“No.” + +“Say thirty.” + +“The price is forty thousand dollars; not a penny less.” + +“All right, I’ll give it. I will come to the hotel at ten in the +morning. I don’t want it known; will see you privately.” + +“Very good.” Then the stranger got up and said to the house: + +“I find it late. The speeches of these gentlemen are not without merit, +not without interest, not without grace; yet if I may be excused I will +take my leave. I thank you for the great favour which you have shown me +in granting my petition. I ask the Chair to keep the sack for me until +to-morrow, and to hand these three five-hundred-dollar notes to Mr. +Richards.” They were passed up to the Chair. + +“At nine I will call for the sack, and at eleven will deliver the rest +of the ten thousand to Mr. Richards in person at his home. Good-night.” + +Then he slipped out, and left the audience making a vast noise, +which was composed of a mixture of cheers, the “Mikado” song, +dog-disapproval, and the chant, “You are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-d +man--a-a-a a-men!” + + + + +IV. + + +At home the Richardses had to endure congratulations and compliments +until midnight. Then they were left to themselves. They looked a little +sad, and they sat silent and thinking. Finally Mary sighed and said: + +“Do you think we are to blame, Edward--_much_ to blame?” and her eyes +wandered to the accusing triplet of big bank-notes lying on the table, +where the congratulators had been gloating over them and reverently +fingering them. Edward did not answer at once; then he brought out a +sigh and said, hesitatingly: + +“We--we couldn’t help it, Mary. It--well it was ordered. _All_ things +are.” + +Mary glanced up and looked at him steadily, but he didn’t return the +look. Presently she said: + +“I thought congratulations and praises always tasted good. But--it +seems to me, now--Edward?” + +“Well?” + +“Are you going to stay in the bank?” + +“N--no.” + +“Resign?” + +“In the morning--by note.” + +“It does seem best.” + +Richards bowed his head in his hands and muttered: + +“Before I was not afraid to let oceans of people’s money pour through +my hands, but--Mary, I am so tired, so tired--” + +“We will go to bed.” + +At nine in the morning the stranger called for the sack and took it to +the hotel in a cab. At ten Harkness had a talk with him privately. The +stranger asked for and got five cheques on a metropolitan bank--drawn +to “Bearer,”--four for $1,500 each, and one for $34,000. He put one of +the former in his pocket-book, and the remainder, representing $38,500, +he put in an envelope, and with these he added a note which he wrote +after Harkness was gone. At eleven he called at the Richards’ house +and knocked. Mrs. Richards peeped through the shutters, then went and +received the envelope, and the stranger disappeared without a word. She +came back flushed and a little unsteady on her legs, and gasped out: + +“I am sure I recognised him! Last night it seemed to me that maybe I +had seen him somewhere before.” + +“He is the man that brought the sack here?” + +“I am almost sure of it.” + +“Then he is the ostensible Stephenson too, and sold every important +citizen in this town with his bogus secret. Now if he has sent cheques +instead of money, we are sold too, after we thought we had escaped. I +was beginning to feel fairly comfortable once more, after my night’s +rest, but the look of that envelope makes me sick. It isn’t fat enough; +$8,500 in even the largest bank-notes makes more bulk than that.” + +“Edward, why do you object to cheques?” + +“Cheques signed by Stephenson! I am resigned to take the $8,500 if it +could come in bank-notes--for it does seem that it was so ordered, +Mary--but I have never had much courage, and I have not the pluck to +try to market a cheque signed with that disastrous name. It would be a +trap. That man tried to catch me; we escaped somehow or other; and now +he is trying a new way. If it is cheques--” + +“Oh, Edward, it is _too_ bad!” And she held up the cheques and began to +cry. + +“Put them in the fire! quick! we mustn’t be tempted. It is a trick +to make the world laugh at _us_, along with the rest, and--Give them +to _me_, since you can’t do it!” He snatched them and tried to hold +his grip till he could get to the stove; but he was human, he was a +cashier, and he stopped a moment to make sure of the signature. Then he +came near to fainting. + +“Fan me, Mary, fan me! They are the same as gold!” + +“Oh, how lovely, Edward! Why?” + +“Signed by Harkness. What can the mystery of that be, Mary?” + +“Edward, do you think--” + +“Look here--look at this! Fifteen--fifteen--fifteen--thirty-four. +Thirty-eight thousand five hundred! Mary, the sack isn’t worth twelve +dollars, and Harkness--apparently--has paid about par for it.” + +“And does it all come to us, do you think--instead of the ten thousand?” + +“Why, it looks like it. And the cheques are made to ‘Bearer,’ too.” + +“Is that good, Edward? What is it for?” + +“A hint to collect them at some distant bank, I reckon. Perhaps +Harkness doesn’t want the matter known. What is that--a note?” + +“Yes. It was with the cheques.” + +It was in the “Stephenson” handwriting, but there was no signature. It +said: + + “I am a disappointed man. Your honesty is beyond the reach of + temptation. I had a different idea about it, but I wronged you in + that, and I beg pardon, and do it sincerely. I honour you--and that + is sincere too. This town is not worthy to kiss the hem of your + garment. Dear sir, I made a square bet with myself that there were + nineteen debauchable men in your self-righteous community. I have + lost. Take the whole pot, you are entitled to it.” + +Richards drew a deep sigh, and said: + +“It seems written with fire--it burns so. Mary--I am miserable again.” + +“I, too. Ah, dear, I wish--” + +“To think, Mary--he _believes_ in me.” + + +“Oh, don’t, Edward--I can’t bear it.” + +“If those beautiful words were deserved, Mary--and God knows I believed I +deserved them once--I think I could give the forty thousand dollars for +them. And I would put that paper away, as representing more than gold +and jewels, and keep it always. But now--We could not live in the shadow +of its accusing presence, Mary.” + +He put it in the fire. + +A messenger arrived and delivered an envelope. Richards took from it a +note and read it; it was from Burgess: + + “You saved me, in a difficult time. I saved you last night. It was + at cost of a lie, but I made the sacrifice freely, and out of a + grateful heart. None in this village knows so well as I know how + brave and good and noble you are. At bottom you cannot respect me, + knowing as you do of that matter of which I am accused, and by the + general voice condemned; but I beg that you will at least believe that + I am a grateful man; it will help me to bear my burden. [Signed] + ‘BURGESS.’” + +“Saved, once more. And on such terms!” He put the note in the fire. +“I--I wish I were dead, Mary, I wish I were out of it all!” + +“Oh, these are bitter, bitter days, Edward. The stabs, through their +very generosity, are so deep--and they come so fast!” + +Three days before the election each of two thousand voters suddenly +found himself in possession of a prized memento--one of the renowned +bogus double-eagles. Around one of its faces was stamped these words: +“THE REMARK I MADE TO THE POOR STRANGER WAS--” Around the other face +was stamped these: “GO, AND REFORM. [SIGNED] PINKERTON.” Thus the +entire remaining refuse of the renowned joke was emptied upon a single +head, and with calamitous effect. It revived the recent vast laugh and +concentrated it upon Pinkerton; and Harkness’s election was a walk-over. + +Within twenty-four hours after the Richardses had received their +cheques their consciences were quieting down, discouraged; the old +couple were learning to reconcile themselves to the sin which they had +committed. But they were to learn, now, that a sin takes on new and +real terrors when there seems a chance that it is going to be found +out. This gives it a fresh and most substantial and important aspect. +At church the morning sermon was of the usual pattern; it was the same +old things said in the same old way; they had heard them a thousand +times and found them innocuous, next to meaningless, and easy to sleep +under; but now it was different: the sermon seemed to bristle with +accusations; it seemed aimed straight and specially at people who were +concealing deadly sins. After church they got away from the mob of +congratulators as soon as they could, and hurried homeward, chilled to +the bone at they did not know what--vague, shadowy, indefinite fears. +And by chance they caught a glimpse of Mr. Burgess as he turned a +corner. He paid no attention to their nod of recognition! He hadn’t +seen it; but they did not know that. What could his conduct mean? +It might mean--it might--mean--oh, a dozen dreadful things. Was it +possible that he knew that Richards could have cleared him of guilt in +that bygone time, and had been silently waiting for a chance to even +up accounts? At home, in their distress they got to imagining that +their servant might have been in the next room listening when Richards +revealed the secret to his wife that he knew of Burgess’s innocence; +next Richards began to imagine that he had heard the swish of a gown +in there at that time; next, he was sure he _had_ heard it. They would +call Sarah in, on a pretext, and watch her face; if she had been +betraying them to Mr. Burgess, it would show in her manner. They asked +her some questions--questions which were so random and incoherent and +seemingly purposeless that the girl felt sure that the old people’s +minds had been affected by their sudden good fortune; the sharp and +watchful gaze which they bent upon her frightened her, and that +completed the business. She blushed, she became nervous and confused, +and to the old people these were plain signs of guilt--guilt of some +fearful sort or other--without doubt she was a spy and a traitor. +When they were alone again they began to piece many unrelated things +together and get horrible results out of the combination. When things +had got about to the worst Richards was delivered of a sudden gasp and +his wife asked: + +“Oh, what is it?--what is it?” + +“The note--Burgess’s note! Its language was sarcastic, I see it now.” +He quoted: “‘At bottom you cannot respect me, _knowing_, as you do, +of _that matter of_ which I am accused’--oh, it is perfectly plain, +now, God help me! He knows that I know! You see the ingenuity of the +phrasing. It was a trap--and like a fool, I walked into it. And Mary--!” + +“Oh, it is dreadful--I know what you are going to say--he didn’t return +your transcript of the pretended test-remark.” + +“No--kept it to destroy us with. Mary, he has exposed us to some +already. I know it--I know it well. I saw it in a dozen faces after +church. Ah, he wouldn’t answer our nod of recognition--he knew what he +had been doing!” + +In the night the doctor was called. The news went around in the +morning that the old couple were rather seriously ill--prostrated by +the exhausting excitement growing out of their great windfall, the +congratulations, and the late hours, the doctor said. The town was +sincerely distressed; for these old people were about all it had left +to be proud of, now. + +Two days later the news was worse. The old couple were delirious, and +were doing strange things. By witness of the nurses, Richards had +exhibited cheques--for $8,500? No--for an amazing sum--$38,500! What +could be the explanation of this gigantic piece of luck? + +The following day the nurses had more news--and wonderful. They had +concluded to hide the cheques, lest harm come to them; but when they +searched they were gone from under the patient’s pillow--vanished away. +The patient said: + +“Let the pillow alone; what do you want?” + +“We thought it best that the cheques--” + +“You will never see them again--they are destroyed. They came from +Satan. I saw the hell-brand on them, and I knew they were sent to +betray me to sin.” Then he fell to gabbling strange and dreadful things +which were not clearly understandable, and which the doctor admonished +them to keep to themselves. + +Richards was right; the cheques were never seen again. + +A nurse must have talked in her sleep, for within two days the +forbidden gabblings were the property of the town; and they were of +a surprising sort. They seemed to indicate that Richards had been a +claimant for the sack himself, and that Burgess had concealed that fact +and then maliciously betrayed it. + +Burgess was taxed with this and stoutly denied it. And he said it was +not fair to attach weight to the chatter of a sick old man who was out +of his mind. Still, suspicion was in the air, and there was much talk. + +After a day or two it was reported that Mrs. Richards’s delirious +deliveries were getting to be duplicates of her husband’s. Suspicion +flamed up into conviction, now, and the town’s pride in the purity of +its one undiscredited important citizen began to dim down and flicker +toward extinction. + +Six days passed, then came more news. The old couple were dying. +Richards’s mind cleared in his latest hour, and he sent for Burgess. +Burgess said: + +“Let the room be cleared. I think he wishes to say something in +privacy.” + +“No!” said Richards; “I want witnesses. I want you all to hear +my confession, so that I may die a man, and not a dog. I was +clean--artificially--like the rest; and like the rest I fell when +temptation came. I signed a lie, and claimed the miserable sack. Mr. +Burgess remembered that I had done him a service, and in gratitude (and +ignorance) he suppressed my claim and saved me. You know the thing that +was charged against Burgess years ago. My testimony, and mine alone, +could have cleared him, and I was a coward and left him to suffer +disgrace--” + +“No--no--Mr. Richards, you--” + +“My servant betrayed my secret to him--” + +“No one has betrayed anything to me--” + +--“And then he did a natural and justifiable thing; he repented of +the saving kindness which he had done me, and he _exposed_ me--as I +deserved--” + +“Never!--I make oath--” + +“Out of my heart I forgive him.” + +Burgess’s impassioned protestations fell upon deaf ears; the dying man +passed away without knowing that once more he had done poor Burgess a +wrong. The old wife died that night. + +The last of the sacred Nineteen had fallen a prey to the fiendish +sack; the town was stripped of the last rag of its ancient glory. Its +mourning was not showy, but it was deep. + +By act of the Legislature--upon prayer and petition--Hadleyburg was +allowed to change its name to (never mind what--I will not give it +away), and leave one word out of the motto that for many generations +had graced the town’s official seal. + +It is an honest town once more, and the man will have to rise early +that catches it napping again. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1213 *** diff --git a/1213-h/1213-h.htm b/1213-h/1213-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..090a016 --- /dev/null +++ b/1213-h/1213-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1822 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + P { + margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4 { + text-align: left; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1213 ***</div> + +<p><a id="startoftext"></a></p> + +<h1>THE MAN THAT CORRUPTED HADLEYBURG</h1> +<h2>I.</h2> +<p>It was many years ago. Hadleyburg was the most honest and upright +town in all the region round about. It had kept that reputation +unsmirched during three generations, and was prouder of it than of any +other of its possessions. It was so proud of it, and so anxious +to insure its perpetuation, that it began to teach the principles of +honest dealing to its babies in the cradle, and made the like teachings +the staple of their culture thenceforward through all the years devoted +to their education. Also, throughout the formative years temptations +were kept out of the way of the young people, so that their honesty +could have every chance to harden and solidify, and become a part of +their very bone. The neighbouring towns were jealous of this honourable +supremacy, and affected to sneer at Hadleyburg’s pride in it and +call it vanity; but all the same they were obliged to acknowledge that +Hadleyburg was in reality an incorruptible town; and if pressed they +would also acknowledge that the mere fact that a young man hailed from +Hadleyburg was all the recommendation he needed when he went forth from +his natal town to seek for responsible employment.</p> +<p>But at last, in the drift of time, Hadleyburg had the ill luck to +offend a passing stranger—possibly without knowing it, certainly +without caring, for Hadleyburg was sufficient unto itself, and cared +not a rap for strangers or their opinions. Still, it would have +been well to make an exception in this one’s case, for he was +a bitter man, and revengeful. All through his wanderings during +a whole year he kept his injury in mind, and gave all his leisure moments +to trying to invent a compensating satisfaction for it. He contrived +many plans, and all of them were good, but none of them was quite sweeping +enough: the poorest of them would hurt a great many individuals, but +what he wanted was a plan which would comprehend the entire town, and +not let so much as one person escape unhurt. At last he had a +fortunate idea, and when it fell into his brain it lit up his whole +head with an evil joy. He began to form a plan at once, saying +to himself “That is the thing to do—I will corrupt the town.”</p> +<p>Six months later he went to Hadleyburg, and arrived in a buggy at +the house of the old cashier of the bank about ten at night. He +got a sack out of the buggy, shouldered it, and staggered with it through +the cottage yard, and knocked at the door. A woman’s voice +said “Come in,” and he entered, and set his sack behind +the stove in the parlour, saying politely to the old lady who sat reading +the “Missionary Herald” by the lamp:</p> +<p>“Pray keep your seat, madam, I will not disturb you. +There—now it is pretty well concealed; one would hardly know it +was there. Can I see your husband a moment, madam?”</p> +<p>No, he was gone to Brixton, and might not return before morning.</p> +<p>“Very well, madam, it is no matter. I merely wanted to +leave that sack in his care, to be delivered to the rightful owner when +he shall be found. I am a stranger; he does not know me; I am +merely passing through the town to-night to discharge a matter which +has been long in my mind. My errand is now completed, and I go +pleased and a little proud, and you will never see me again. There +is a paper attached to the sack which will explain everything. +Good-night, madam.”</p> +<p>The old lady was afraid of the mysterious big stranger, and was glad +to see him go. But her curiosity was roused, and she went straight +to the sack and brought away the paper. It began as follows:</p> +<blockquote><p>“TO BE PUBLISHED, or, the right man sought out +by private inquiry—either will answer. This sack contains +gold coin weighing a hundred and sixty pounds four ounces—”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Mercy on us, and the door not locked!”</p> +<p>Mrs. Richards flew to it all in a tremble and locked it, then pulled +down the window-shades and stood frightened, worried, and wondering +if there was anything else she could do toward making herself and the +money more safe. She listened awhile for burglars, then surrendered +to curiosity, and went back to the lamp and finished reading the paper:</p> +<blockquote><p>“I am a foreigner, and am presently going back +to my own country, to remain there permanently. I am grateful +to America for what I have received at her hands during my long stay +under her flag; and to one of her citizens—a citizen of Hadleyburg—I +am especially grateful for a great kindness done me a year or two ago. +Two great kindnesses in fact. I will explain. I was a gambler. +I say I WAS. I was a ruined gambler. I arrived in this village +at night, hungry and without a penny. I asked for help—in +the dark; I was ashamed to beg in the light. I begged of the right +man. He gave me twenty dollars—that is to say, he gave me +life, as I considered it. He also gave me fortune; for out of +that money I have made myself rich at the gaming-table. And finally, +a remark which he made to me has remained with me to this day, and has +at last conquered me; and in conquering has saved the remnant of my +morals: I shall gamble no more. Now I have no idea who that man +was, but I want him found, and I want him to have this money, to give +away, throw away, or keep, as he pleases. It is merely my way +of testifying my gratitude to him. If I could stay, I would find +him myself; but no matter, he will be found. This is an honest +town, an incorruptible town, and I know I can trust it without fear. +This man can be identified by the remark which he made to me; I feel +persuaded that he will remember it.</p> +<p>“And now my plan is this: If you prefer to conduct the inquiry +privately, do so. Tell the contents of this present writing to +any one who is likely to be the right man. If he shall answer, +‘I am the man; the remark I made was so-and-so,’ apply the +test—to wit: open the sack, and in it you will find a sealed envelope +containing that remark. If the remark mentioned by the candidate +tallies with it, give him the money, and ask no further questions, for +he is certainly the right man.</p> +<p>“But if you shall prefer a public inquiry, then publish this +present writing in the local paper—with these instructions added, +to wit: Thirty days from now, let the candidate appear at the town-hall +at eight in the evening (Friday), and hand his remark, in a sealed envelope, +to the Rev. Mr. Burgess (if he will be kind enough to act); and let +Mr. Burgess there and then destroy the seals of the sack, open it, and +see if the remark is correct: if correct, let the money be delivered, +with my sincere gratitude, to my benefactor thus identified.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Mrs. Richards sat down, gently quivering with excitement, and was +soon lost in thinkings—after this pattern: “What a strange +thing it is! ... And what a fortune for that kind man who set his +bread afloat upon the waters! ... If it had only been my husband that +did it!—for we are so poor, so old and poor! ...” +Then, with a sigh—“But it was not my Edward; no, it was +not he that gave a stranger twenty dollars. It is a pity too; +I see it now... ” Then, with a shudder—“But +it is <i>gamblers</i>’ money! the wages of sin; we couldn’t +take it; we couldn’t touch it. I don’t like to be +near it; it seems a defilement.” She moved to a farther +chair... “I wish Edward would come, and take it to the bank; +a burglar might come at any moment; it is dreadful to be here all alone +with it.”</p> +<p>At eleven Mr. Richards arrived, and while his wife was saying “I +am <i>so</i> glad you’ve come!” he was saying, “I +am so tired—tired clear out; it is dreadful to be poor, and have +to make these dismal journeys at my time of life. Always at the +grind, grind, grind, on a salary—another man’s slave, and +he sitting at home in his slippers, rich and comfortable.”</p> +<p>“I am so sorry for you, Edward, you know that; but be comforted; +we have our livelihood; we have our good name—”</p> +<p>“Yes, Mary, and that is everything. Don’t mind +my talk—it’s just a moment’s irritation and doesn’t +mean anything. Kiss me—there, it’s all gone now, and +I am not complaining any more. What have you been getting? +What’s in the sack?”</p> +<p>Then his wife told him the great secret. It dazed him for a +moment; then he said:</p> +<p>“It weighs a hundred and sixty pounds? Why, Mary, it’s +for-ty thou-sand dollars—think of it—a whole fortune! +Not ten men in this village are worth that much. Give me the paper.”</p> +<p>He skimmed through it and said:</p> +<p>“Isn’t it an adventure! Why, it’s a romance; +it’s like the impossible things one reads about in books, and +never sees in life.” He was well stirred up now; cheerful, +even gleeful. He tapped his old wife on the cheek, and said humorously, +“Why, we’re rich, Mary, rich; all we’ve got to do +is to bury the money and burn the papers. If the gambler ever +comes to inquire, we’ll merely look coldly upon him and say: ‘What +is this nonsense you are talking? We have never heard of you and +your sack of gold before;’ and then he would look foolish, and—”</p> +<p>“And in the meantime, while you are running on with your jokes, +the money is still here, and it is fast getting along toward burglar-time.”</p> +<p>“True. Very well, what shall we do—make the inquiry +private? No, not that; it would spoil the romance. The public +method is better. Think what a noise it will make! And it +will make all the other towns jealous; for no stranger would trust such +a thing to any town but Hadleyburg, and they know it. It’s +a great card for us. I must get to the printing-office now, or +I shall be too late.”</p> +<p>“But stop—stop—don’t leave me here alone +with it, Edward!”</p> +<p>But he was gone. For only a little while, however. Not +far from his own house he met the editor—proprietor of the paper, +and gave him the document, and said “Here is a good thing for +you, Cox—put it in.”</p> +<p>“It may be too late, Mr. Richards, but I’ll see.”</p> +<p>At home again, he and his wife sat down to talk the charming mystery +over; they were in no condition for sleep. The first question +was, Who could the citizen have been who gave the stranger the twenty +dollars? It seemed a simple one; both answered it in the same +breath—</p> +<p>“Barclay Goodson.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Richards, “he could have done it, and +it would have been like him, but there’s not another in the town.”</p> +<p>“Everybody will grant that, Edward—grant it privately, +anyway. For six months, now, the village has been its own proper +self once more—honest, narrow, self-righteous, and stingy.”</p> +<p>“It is what he always called it, to the day of his death—said +it right out publicly, too.”</p> +<p>“Yes, and he was hated for it.”</p> +<p>“Oh, of course; but he didn’t care. I reckon he +was the best-hated man among us, except the Reverend Burgess.”</p> +<p>“Well, Burgess deserves it—he will never get another +congregation here. Mean as the town is, it knows how to estimate +<i>him</i>. Edward, doesn’t it seem odd that the stranger +should appoint Burgess to deliver the money?”</p> +<p>“Well, yes—it does. That is—that is—”</p> +<p>“Why so much that-<i>is</i>-ing? Would <i>you</i> select +him?”</p> +<p>“Mary, maybe the stranger knows him better than this village +does.”</p> +<p>“Much <i>that</i> would help Burgess!”</p> +<p>The husband seemed perplexed for an answer; the wife kept a steady +eye upon him, and waited. Finally Richards said, with the hesitancy +of one who is making a statement which is likely to encounter doubt,</p> +<p>“Mary, Burgess is not a bad man.”</p> +<p>His wife was certainly surprised.</p> +<p>“Nonsense!” she exclaimed.</p> +<p>“He is not a bad man. I know. The whole of his +unpopularity had its foundation in that one thing—the thing that +made so much noise.”</p> +<p>“That ‘one thing,’ indeed! As if that ‘one +thing’ wasn’t enough, all by itself.”</p> +<p>“Plenty. Plenty. Only he wasn’t guilty of +it.”</p> +<p>“How you talk! Not guilty of it! Everybody knows +he <i>was</i> guilty.”</p> +<p>“Mary, I give you my word—he was innocent.”</p> +<p>“I can’t believe it and I don’t. How do you +know?”</p> +<p>“It is a confession. I am ashamed, but I will make it. +I was the only man who knew he was innocent. I could have saved +him, and—and—well, you know how the town was wrought up—I +hadn’t the pluck to do it. It would have turned everybody +against me. I felt mean, ever so mean; but I didn’t dare; +I hadn’t the manliness to face that.”</p> +<p>Mary looked troubled, and for a while was silent. Then she +said stammeringly:</p> +<p>“I—I don’t think it would have done for you to—to—One +mustn’t—er—public opinion—one has to be so careful—so—” +It was a difficult road, and she got mired; but after a little she got +started again. “It was a great pity, but—Why, we couldn’t +afford it, Edward—we couldn’t indeed. Oh, I wouldn’t +have had you do it for anything!”</p> +<p>“It would have lost us the good-will of so many people, Mary; +and then—and then—”</p> +<p>“What troubles me now is, what <i>he</i> thinks of us, Edward.”</p> +<p>“He? <i>He</i> doesn’t suspect that I could have +saved him.”</p> +<p>“Oh,” exclaimed the wife, in a tone of relief, “I +am glad of that. As long as he doesn’t know that you could +have saved him, he—he—well that makes it a great deal better. +Why, I might have known he didn’t know, because he is always trying +to be friendly with us, as little encouragement as we give him. +More than once people have twitted me with it. There’s the +Wilsons, and the Wilcoxes, and the Harknesses, they take a mean pleasure +in saying ‘<i>Your friend</i> Burgess,’ because they know +it pesters me. I wish he wouldn’t persist in liking us so; +I can’t think why he keeps it up.”</p> +<p>“I can explain it. It’s another confession. +When the thing was new and hot, and the town made a plan to ride him +on a rail, my conscience hurt me so that I couldn’t stand it, +and I went privately and gave him notice, and he got out of the town +and stayed out till it was safe to come back.”</p> +<p>“Edward! If the town had found it out—”</p> +<p>“<i>Don’t</i>! It scares me yet, to think of it. +I repented of it the minute it was done; and I was even afraid to tell +you lest your face might betray it to somebody. I didn’t +sleep any that night, for worrying. But after a few days I saw +that no one was going to suspect me, and after that I got to feeling +glad I did it. And I feel glad yet, Mary—glad through and +through.”</p> +<p>“So do I, now, for it would have been a dreadful way to treat +him. Yes, I’m glad; for really you did owe him that, you +know. But, Edward, suppose it should come out yet, some day!”</p> +<p>“It won’t.”</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>“Because everybody thinks it was Goodson.”</p> +<p>“Of course they would!”</p> +<p>“Certainly. And of course <i>he</i> didn’t care. +They persuaded poor old Sawlsberry to go and charge it on him, and he +went blustering over there and did it. Goodson looked him over, +like as if he was hunting for a place on him that he could despise the +most; then he says, ‘So you are the Committee of Inquiry, are +you?’ Sawlsberry said that was about what he was. +‘H’m. Do they require particulars, or do you reckon +a kind of a <i>general</i> answer will do?’ ‘If they +require particulars, I will come back, Mr. Goodson; I will take the +general answer first.’ ‘Very well, then, tell them +to go to hell—I reckon that’s general enough. And +I’ll give you some advice, Sawlsberry; when you come back for +the particulars, fetch a basket to carry what is left of yourself home +in.’”</p> +<p>“Just like Goodson; it’s got all the marks. He +had only one vanity; he thought he could give advice better than any +other person.”</p> +<p>“It settled the business, and saved us, Mary. The subject +was dropped.”</p> +<p>“Bless you, I’m not doubting <i>that</i>.”</p> +<p>Then they took up the gold-sack mystery again, with strong interest. +Soon the conversation began to suffer breaks—interruptions caused +by absorbed thinkings. The breaks grew more and more frequent. +At last Richards lost himself wholly in thought. He sat long, +gazing vacantly at the floor, and by-and-by he began to punctuate his +thoughts with little nervous movements of his hands that seemed to indicate +vexation. Meantime his wife too had relapsed into a thoughtful +silence, and her movements were beginning to show a troubled discomfort. +Finally Richards got up and strode aimlessly about the room, ploughing +his hands through his hair, much as a somnambulist might do who was +having a bad dream. Then he seemed to arrive at a definite purpose; +and without a word he put on his hat and passed quickly out of the house. +His wife sat brooding, with a drawn face, and did not seem to be aware +that she was alone. Now and then she murmured, “Lead us +not into t ... but—but—we are so poor, so poor! ... +Lead us not into.... Ah, who would be hurt by it?—and no one +would ever know.... Lead us.... ” The voice died out +in mumblings. After a little she glanced up and muttered in a +half-frightened, half-glad way—</p> +<p>“He is gone! But, oh dear, he may be too late—too +late.... Maybe not—maybe there is still time.” She +rose and stood thinking, nervously clasping and unclasping her hands. +A slight shudder shook her frame, and she said, out of a dry throat, +“God forgive me—it’s awful to think such things—but.... Lord, how we are made—how strangely we are made!”</p> +<p>She turned the light low, and slipped stealthily over and knelt down +by the sack and felt of its ridgy sides with her hands, and fondled +them lovingly; and there was a gloating light in her poor old eyes. +She fell into fits of absence; and came half out of them at times to +mutter “If we had only waited!—oh, if we had only waited +a little, and not been in such a hurry!”</p> +<p>Meantime Cox had gone home from his office and told his wife all +about the strange thing that had happened, and they had talked it over +eagerly, and guessed that the late Goodson was the only man in the town +who could have helped a suffering stranger with so noble a sum as twenty +dollars. Then there was a pause, and the two became thoughtful +and silent. And by-and-by nervous and fidgety. At last the +wife said, as if to herself,</p> +<p>“Nobody knows this secret but the Richardses ... and us ... nobody.”</p> +<p>The husband came out of his thinkings with a slight start, and gazed +wistfully at his wife, whose face was become very pale; then he hesitatingly +rose, and glanced furtively at his hat, then at his wife—a sort +of mute inquiry. Mrs. Cox swallowed once or twice, with her hand +at her throat, then in place of speech she nodded her head. In +a moment she was alone, and mumbling to herself.</p> +<p>And now Richards and Cox were hurrying through the deserted streets, +from opposite directions. They met, panting, at the foot of the +printing-office stairs; by the night-light there they read each other’s +face. Cox whispered:</p> +<p>“Nobody knows about this but us?”</p> +<p>The whispered answer was:</p> +<p>“Not a soul—on honour, not a soul!”</p> +<p>“If it isn’t too late to—”</p> +<p>The men were starting up-stairs; at this moment they were overtaken +by a boy, and Cox asked,</p> +<p>“Is that you, Johnny?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>“You needn’t ship the early mail—nor <i>any</i> +mail; wait till I tell you.”</p> +<p>“It’s already gone, sir.”</p> +<p>“<i>Gone</i>?” It had the sound of an unspeakable +disappointment in it.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. Time-table for Brixton and all the towns beyond +changed to-day, sir—had to get the papers in twenty minutes earlier +than common. I had to rush; if I had been two minutes later—”</p> +<p>The men turned and walked slowly away, not waiting to hear the rest. +Neither of them spoke during ten minutes; then Cox said, in a vexed +tone,</p> +<p>“What possessed you to be in such a hurry, <i>I</i> can’t +make out.”</p> +<p>The answer was humble enough:</p> +<p>“I see it now, but somehow I never thought, you know, until +it was too late. But the next time—”</p> +<p>“Next time be hanged! It won’t come in a thousand +years.”</p> +<p>Then the friends separated without a good-night, and dragged themselves +home with the gait of mortally stricken men. At their homes their +wives sprang up with an eager “Well?”—then saw the +answer with their eyes and sank down sorrowing, without waiting for +it to come in words. In both houses a discussion followed of a +heated sort—a new thing; there had been discussions before, but +not heated ones, not ungentle ones. The discussions to-night were +a sort of seeming plagiarisms of each other. Mrs. Richards said:</p> +<p>“If you had only waited, Edward—if you had only stopped +to think; but no, you must run straight to the printing-office and spread +it all over the world.”</p> +<p>“It <i>said</i> publish it.”</p> +<p>“That is nothing; it also said do it privately, if you liked. +There, now—is that true, or not?”</p> +<p>“Why, yes—yes, it is true; but when I thought what a +stir it would make, and what a compliment it was to Hadleyburg that +a stranger should trust it so—”</p> +<p>“Oh, certainly, I know all that; but if you had only stopped +to think, you would have seen that you <i>couldn’t</i> find the +right man, because he is in his grave, and hasn’t left chick nor +child nor relation behind him; and as long as the money went to somebody +that awfully needed it, and nobody would be hurt by it, and—and—”</p> +<p>She broke down, crying. Her husband tried to think of some +comforting thing to say, and presently came out with this:</p> +<p>“But after all, Mary, it must be for the best—it must +be; we know that. And we must remember that it was so ordered—”</p> +<p>“Ordered! Oh, everything’s <i>ordered</i>, when +a person has to find some way out when he has been stupid. Just the +same, it was <i>ordered</i> that the money should come to us in this +special way, and it was you that must take it on yourself to go meddling +with the designs of Providence—and who gave you the right? +It was wicked, that is what it was—just blasphemous presumption, +and no more becoming to a meek and humble professor of—”</p> +<p>“But, Mary, you know how we have been trained all our lives +long, like the whole village, till it is absolutely second nature to +us to stop not a single moment to think when there’s an honest +thing to be done—”</p> +<p>“Oh, I know it, I know it—it’s been one everlasting +training and training and training in honesty—honesty shielded, +from the very cradle, against every possible temptation, and so it’s +<i>artificial</i> honesty, and weak as water when temptation comes, +as we have seen this night. God knows I never had shade nor shadow +of a doubt of my petrified and indestructible honesty until now—and +now, under the very first big and real temptation, I—Edward, it +is my belief that this town’s honesty is as rotten as mine is; +as rotten as yours. It is a mean town, a hard, stingy town, and +hasn’t a virtue in the world but this honesty it is so celebrated +for and so conceited about; and so help me, I do believe that if ever +the day comes that its honesty falls under great temptation, its grand +reputation will go to ruin like a house of cards. There, now, +I’ve made confession, and I feel better; I am a humbug, and I’ve +been one all my life, without knowing it. Let no man call me honest +again—I will not have it.”</p> +<p>“I—Well, Mary, I feel a good deal as you do: I certainly +do. It seems strange, too, so strange. I never could have +believed it—never.”</p> +<p>A long silence followed; both were sunk in thought. At last +the wife looked up and said:</p> +<p>“I know what you are thinking, Edward.”</p> +<p>Richards had the embarrassed look of a person who is caught.</p> +<p>“I am ashamed to confess it, Mary, but—”</p> +<p>“It’s no matter, Edward, I was thinking the same question +myself.”</p> +<p>“I hope so. State it.”</p> +<p>“You were thinking, if a body could only guess out <i>what +the remark was</i> that Goodson made to the stranger.”</p> +<p>“It’s perfectly true. I feel guilty and ashamed. +And you?”</p> +<p>“I’m past it. Let us make a pallet here; we’ve +got to stand watch till the bank vault opens in the morning and admits +the sack... Oh dear, oh dear—if we hadn’t made the mistake!”</p> +<p>The pallet was made, and Mary said:</p> +<p>“The open sesame—what could it have been? I do +wonder what that remark could have been. But come; we will get +to bed now.”</p> +<p>“And sleep?”</p> +<p>“No; think.”</p> +<p>“Yes; think.”</p> +<p>By this time the Coxes too had completed their spat and their reconciliation, +and were turning in—to think, to think, and toss, and fret, and +worry over what the remark could possibly have been which Goodson made +to the stranded derelict; that golden remark; that remark worth forty +thousand dollars, cash.</p> +<p>The reason that the village telegraph-office was open later than +usual that night was this: The foreman of Cox’s paper was the +local representative of the Associated Press. One might say its +honorary representative, for it wasn’t four times a year that +he could furnish thirty words that would be accepted. But this +time it was different. His despatch stating what he had caught +got an instant answer:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Send the whole thing—all the details—twelve +hundred words.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>A colossal order! The foreman filled the bill; and he was the +proudest man in the State. By breakfast-time the next morning +the name of Hadleyburg the Incorruptible was on every lip in America, +from Montreal to the Gulf, from the glaciers of Alaska to the orange-groves +of Florida; and millions and millions of people were discussing the +stranger and his money-sack, and wondering if the right man would be +found, and hoping some more news about the matter would come soon—right +away.</p> +<h2>II.</h2> +<p>Hadleyburg village woke up world-celebrated—astonished—happy—vain. +Vain beyond imagination. Its nineteen principal citizens and their +wives went about shaking hands with each other, and beaming, and smiling, +and congratulating, and saying <i>this</i> thing adds a new word to +the dictionary—<i>Hadleyburg</i>, synonym for <i>incorruptible</i>—destined +to live in dictionaries for ever! And the minor and unimportant +citizens and their wives went around acting in much the same way. +Everybody ran to the bank to see the gold-sack; and before noon grieved +and envious crowds began to flock in from Brixton and all neighbouring +towns; and that afternoon and next day reporters began to arrive from +everywhere to verify the sack and its history and write the whole thing +up anew, and make dashing free-hand pictures of the sack, and of Richards’s +house, and the bank, and the Presbyterian church, and the Baptist church, +and the public square, and the town-hall where the test would be applied +and the money delivered; and damnable portraits of the Richardses, and +Pinkerton the banker, and Cox, and the foreman, and Reverend Burgess, +and the postmaster—and even of Jack Halliday, who was the loafing, +good-natured, no-account, irreverent fisherman, hunter, boys’ +friend, stray-dogs’ friend, typical “Sam Lawson” of +the town. The little mean, smirking, oily Pinkerton showed the +sack to all comers, and rubbed his sleek palms together pleasantly, +and enlarged upon the town’s fine old reputation for honesty and +upon this wonderful endorsement of it, and hoped and believed that the +example would now spread far and wide over the American world, and be +epoch-making in the matter of moral regeneration. And so on, and +so on.</p> +<p>By the end of a week things had quieted down again; the wild intoxication +of pride and joy had sobered to a soft, sweet, silent delight—a +sort of deep, nameless, unutterable content. All faces bore a +look of peaceful, holy happiness.</p> +<p>Then a change came. It was a gradual change; so gradual that +its beginnings were hardly noticed; maybe were not noticed at all, except +by Jack Halliday, who always noticed everything; and always made fun +of it, too, no matter what it was. He began to throw out chaffing +remarks about people not looking quite so happy as they did a day or +two ago; and next he claimed that the new aspect was deepening to positive +sadness; next, that it was taking on a sick look; and finally he said +that everybody was become so moody, thoughtful, and absent-minded that +he could rob the meanest man in town of a cent out of the bottom of +his breeches pocket and not disturb his reverie.</p> +<p>At this stage—or at about this stage—a saying like this +was dropped at bedtime—with a sigh, usually—by the head +of each of the nineteen principal households:</p> +<p>“Ah, what <i>could</i> have been the remark that Goodson made?”</p> +<p>And straightway—with a shudder—came this, from the man’s +wife:</p> +<p>“Oh, <i>don’t</i>! What horrible thing are you +mulling in your mind? Put it away from you, for God’s sake!”</p> +<p>But that question was wrung from those men again the next night—and +got the same retort. But weaker.</p> +<p>And the third night the men uttered the question yet again—with +anguish, and absently. This time—and the following night—the +wives fidgeted feebly, and tried to say something. But didn’t.</p> +<p>And the night after that they found their tongues and responded—longingly:</p> +<p>“Oh, if we <i>could</i> only guess!”</p> +<p>Halliday’s comments grew daily more and more sparklingly disagreeable +and disparaging. He went diligently about, laughing at the town, +individually and in mass. But his laugh was the only one left +in the village: it fell upon a hollow and mournful vacancy and emptiness. +Not even a smile was findable anywhere. Halliday carried a cigar-box +around on a tripod, playing that it was a camera, and halted all passers +and aimed the thing and said “Ready!—now look pleasant, +please,” but not even this capital joke could surprise the dreary +faces into any softening.</p> +<p>So three weeks passed—one week was left. It was Saturday +evening after supper. Instead of the aforetime Saturday-evening +flutter and bustle and shopping and larking, the streets were empty +and desolate. Richards and his old wife sat apart in their little +parlour—miserable and thinking. This was become their evening +habit now: the life-long habit which had preceded it, of reading, knitting, +and contented chat, or receiving or paying neighbourly calls, was dead +and gone and forgotten, ages ago—two or three weeks ago; nobody +talked now, nobody read, nobody visited—the whole village sat +at home, sighing, worrying, silent. Trying to guess out that remark.</p> +<p>The postman left a letter. Richards glanced listlessly at the +superscription and the post-mark—unfamiliar, both—and tossed +the letter on the table and resumed his might-have-beens and his hopeless +dull miseries where he had left them off. Two or three hours later +his wife got wearily up and was going away to bed without a good-night—custom +now—but she stopped near the letter and eyed it awhile with a +dead interest, then broke it open, and began to skim it over. +Richards, sitting there with his chair tilted back against the wall +and his chin between his knees, heard something fall. It was his +wife. He sprang to her side, but she cried out:</p> +<p>“Leave me alone, I am too happy. Read the letter—read +it!”</p> +<p>He did. He devoured it, his brain reeling. The letter +was from a distant State, and it said:</p> +<blockquote><p>“I am a stranger to you, but no matter: I have +something to tell. I have just arrived home from Mexico, and learned +about that episode. Of course you do not know who made that remark, +but I know, and I am the only person living who does know. It +was GOODSON. I knew him well, many years ago. I passed through +your village that very night, and was his guest till the midnight train +came along. I overheard him make that remark to the stranger in +the dark—it was in Hale Alley. He and I talked of it the +rest of the way home, and while smoking in his house. He mentioned +many of your villagers in the course of his talk—most of them +in a very uncomplimentary way, but two or three favourably: among these +latter yourself. I say ‘favourably’—nothing +stronger. I remember his saying he did not actually LIKE any person +in the town—not one; but that you—I THINK he said you—am +almost sure—had done him a very great service once, possibly without +knowing the full value of it, and he wished he had a fortune, he would +leave it to you when he died, and a curse apiece for the rest of the +citizens. Now, then, if it was you that did him that service, +you are his legitimate heir, and entitled to the sack of gold. +I know that I can trust to your honour and honesty, for in a citizen +of Hadleyburg these virtues are an unfailing inheritance, and so I am +going to reveal to you the remark, well satisfied that if you are not +the right man you will seek and find the right one and see that poor +Goodson’s debt of gratitude for the service referred to is paid. +This is the remark ‘YOU ARE FAR FROM BEING A BAD MAN: GO, AND +REFORM.’</p> +<p>“HOWARD L. STEPHENSON.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Oh, Edward, the money is ours, and I am so grateful, <i>oh</i>, +so grateful,—kiss me, dear, it’s for ever since we kissed—and +we needed it so—the money—and now you are free of Pinkerton +and his bank, and nobody’s slave any more; it seems to me I could +fly for joy.”</p> +<p>It was a happy half-hour that the couple spent there on the settee +caressing each other; it was the old days come again—days that +had begun with their courtship and lasted without a break till the stranger +brought the deadly money. By-and-by the wife said:</p> +<p>“Oh, Edward, how lucky it was you did him that grand service, +poor Goodson! I never liked him, but I love him now. And +it was fine and beautiful of you never to mention it or brag about it.” +Then, with a touch of reproach, “But you ought to have told <i>me</i>, +Edward, you ought to have told your wife, you know.”</p> +<p>“Well, I—er—well, Mary, you see—”</p> +<p>“Now stop hemming and hawing, and tell me about it, Edward. +I always loved you, and now I’m proud of you. Everybody +believes there was only one good generous soul in this village, and +now it turns out that you—Edward, why don’t you tell me?”</p> +<p>“Well—er—er—Why, Mary, I can’t!”</p> +<p>“You <i>can’t</i>? <i>Why</i> can’t you?”</p> +<p>“You see, he—well, he—he made me promise I wouldn’t.”</p> +<p>The wife looked him over, and said, very slowly:</p> +<p>“Made—you—promise? Edward, what do you tell +me that for?”</p> +<p>“Mary, do you think I would lie?”</p> +<p>She was troubled and silent for a moment, then she laid her hand +within his and said:</p> +<p>“No ... no. We have wandered far enough from our bearings—God +spare us that! In all your life you have never uttered a lie. +But now—now that the foundations of things seem to be crumbling +from under us, we—we—” She lost her voice for +a moment, then said, brokenly, “Lead us not into temptation. . +. I think you made the promise, Edward. Let it rest so. +Let us keep away from that ground. Now—that is all gone +by; let us he happy again; it is no time for clouds.”</p> +<p>Edward found it something of an effort to comply, for his mind kept +wandering—trying to remember what the service was that he had +done Goodson.</p> +<p>The couple lay awake the most of the night, Mary happy and busy, +Edward busy, but not so happy. Mary was planning what she would +do with the money. Edward was trying to recall that service. +At first his conscience was sore on account of the lie he had told Mary—if +it was a lie. After much reflection—suppose it <i>was</i> +a lie? What then? Was it such a great matter? Aren’t +we always <i>acting</i> lies? Then why not tell them? Look +at Mary—look what she had done. While he was hurrying off +on his honest errand, what was she doing? Lamenting because the +papers hadn’t been destroyed and the money kept. Is theft +better than lying?</p> +<p><i>That</i> point lost its sting—the lie dropped into the background +and left comfort behind it. The next point came to the front: +<i>had</i> he rendered that service? Well, here was Goodson’s +own evidence as reported in Stephenson’s letter; there could be +no better evidence than that—it was even <i>proof</i> that he +had rendered it. Of course. So that point was settled. . +. No, not quite. He recalled with a wince that this unknown Mr. +Stephenson was just a trifle unsure as to whether the performer of it +was Richards or some other—and, oh dear, he had put Richards on +his honour! He must himself decide whither that money must go—and +Mr. Stephenson was not doubting that if he was the wrong man he would +go honourably and find the right one. Oh, it was odious to put +a man in such a situation—ah, why couldn’t Stephenson have +left out that doubt? What did he want to intrude that for?</p> +<p>Further reflection. How did it happen that <i>Richards’s</i> +name remained in Stephenson’s mind as indicating the right man, +and not some other man’s name? That looked good. Yes, +that looked very good. In fact it went on looking better and better, +straight along—until by-and-by it grew into positive <i>proof</i>. +And then Richards put the matter at once out of his mind, for he had +a private instinct that a proof once established is better left so.</p> +<p>He was feeling reasonably comfortable now, but there was still one +other detail that kept pushing itself on his notice: of course he had +done that service—that was settled; but what <i>was</i> that service? +He must recall it—he would not go to sleep till he had recalled +it; it would make his peace of mind perfect. And so he thought +and thought. He thought of a dozen things—possible services, +even probable services—but none of them seemed adequate, none +of them seemed large enough, none of them seemed worth the money—worth +the fortune Goodson had wished he could leave in his will. And +besides, he couldn’t remember having done them, anyway. +Now, then—now, then—what <i>kind</i> of a service would +it be that would make a man so inordinately grateful? Ah—the +saving of his soul! That must be it. Yes, he could remember, +now, how he once set himself the task of converting Goodson, and laboured +at it as much as—he was going to say three months; but upon closer +examination it shrunk to a month, then to a week, then to a day, then +to nothing. Yes, he remembered now, and with unwelcome vividness, +that Goodson had told him to go to thunder and mind his own business—<i>he</i> +wasn’t hankering to follow Hadleyburg to heaven!</p> +<p>So that solution was a failure—he hadn’t saved Goodson’s +soul. Richards was discouraged. Then after a little came +another idea: had he saved Goodson’s property? No, that +wouldn’t do—he hadn’t any. His life? That +is it! Of course. Why, he might have thought of it before. +This time he was on the right track, sure. His imagination-mill +was hard at work in a minute, now.</p> +<p>Thereafter, during a stretch of two exhausting hours, he was busy +saving Goodson’s life. He saved it in all kinds of difficult +and perilous ways. In every case he got it saved satisfactorily +up to a certain point; then, just as he was beginning to get well persuaded +that it had really happened, a troublesome detail would turn up which +made the whole thing impossible. As in the matter of drowning, +for instance. In that case he had swum out and tugged Goodson +ashore in an unconscious state with a great crowd looking on and applauding, +but when he had got it all thought out and was just beginning to remember +all about it, a whole swarm of disqualifying details arrived on the +ground: the town would have known of the circumstance, Mary would have +known of it, it would glare like a limelight in his own memory instead +of being an inconspicuous service which he had possibly rendered “without +knowing its full value.” And at this point he remembered +that he couldn’t swim anyway.</p> +<p>Ah—<i>there</i> was a point which he had been overlooking from +the start: it had to be a service which he had rendered “possibly +without knowing the full value of it.” Why, really, that +ought to be an easy hunt—much easier than those others. +And sure enough, by-and-by he found it. Goodson, years and years +ago, came near marrying a very sweet and pretty girl, named Nancy Hewitt, +but in some way or other the match had been broken off; the girl died, +Goodson remained a bachelor, and by-and-by became a soured one and a +frank despiser of the human species. Soon after the girl’s +death the village found out, or thought it had found out, that she carried +a spoonful of negro blood in her veins. Richards worked at these +details a good while, and in the end he thought he remembered things +concerning them which must have gotten mislaid in his memory through +long neglect. He seemed to dimly remember that it was <i>he</i> +that found out about the negro blood; that it was he that told the village; +that the village told Goodson where they got it; that he thus saved +Goodson from marrying the tainted girl; that he had done him this great +service “without knowing the full value of it,” in fact +without knowing that he <i>was</i> doing it; but that Goodson knew the +value of it, and what a narrow escape he had had, and so went to his +grave grateful to his benefactor and wishing he had a fortune to leave +him. It was all clear and simple, now, and the more he went over +it the more luminous and certain it grew; and at last, when he nestled +to sleep, satisfied and happy, he remembered the whole thing just as +if it had been yesterday. In fact, he dimly remembered Goodson’s +<i>telling</i> him his gratitude once. Meantime Mary had spent +six thousand dollars on a new house for herself and a pair of slippers +for her pastor, and then had fallen peacefully to rest.</p> +<p>That same Saturday evening the postman had delivered a letter to +each of the other principal citizens—nineteen letters in all. +No two of the envelopes were alike, and no two of the superscriptions +were in the same hand, but the letters inside were just like each other +in every detail but one. They were exact copies of the letter +received by Richards—handwriting and all—and were all signed +by Stephenson, but in place of Richards’s name each receiver’s +own name appeared.</p> +<p>All night long eighteen principal citizens did what their caste-brother +Richards was doing at the same time—they put in their energies +trying to remember what notable service it was that they had unconsciously +done Barclay Goodson. In no case was it a holiday job; still they +succeeded.</p> +<p>And while they were at this work, which was difficult, their wives +put in the night spending the money, which was easy. During that +one night the nineteen wives spent an average of seven thousand dollars +each out of the forty thousand in the sack—a hundred and thirty-three +thousand altogether.</p> +<p>Next day there was a surprise for Jack Halliday. He noticed +that the faces of the nineteen chief citizens and their wives bore that +expression of peaceful and holy happiness again. He could not +understand it, neither was he able to invent any remarks about it that +could damage it or disturb it. And so it was his turn to be dissatisfied +with life. His private guesses at the reasons for the happiness +failed in all instances, upon examination. When he met Mrs. Wilcox +and noticed the placid ecstasy in her face, he said to himself, “Her +cat has had kittens”—and went and asked the cook; it was +not so, the cook had detected the happiness, but did not know the cause. +When Halliday found the duplicate ecstasy in the face of “Shadbelly” +Billson (village nickname), he was sure some neighbour of Billson’s +had broken his leg, but inquiry showed that this had not happened. +The subdued ecstasy in Gregory Yates’s face could mean but one +thing—he was a mother-in-law short; it was another mistake. +“And Pinkerton—Pinkerton—he has collected ten cents +that he thought he was going to lose.” And so on, and so +on. In some cases the guesses had to remain in doubt, in the others +they proved distinct errors. In the end Halliday said to himself, +“Anyway it roots up that there’s nineteen Hadleyburg families +temporarily in heaven: I don’t know how it happened; I only know +Providence is off duty to-day.”</p> +<p>An architect and builder from the next State had lately ventured +to set up a small business in this unpromising village, and his sign +had now been hanging out a week. Not a customer yet; he was a +discouraged man, and sorry he had come. But his weather changed +suddenly now. First one and then another chief citizen’s +wife said to him privately:</p> +<p>“Come to my house Monday week—but say nothing about it +for the present. We think of building.”</p> +<p>He got eleven invitations that day. That night he wrote his +daughter and broke off her match with her student. He said she +could marry a mile higher than that.</p> +<p>Pinkerton the banker and two or three other well-to-do men planned +country-seats—but waited. That kind don’t count their +chickens until they are hatched.</p> +<p>The Wilsons devised a grand new thing—a fancy-dress ball. +They made no actual promises, but told all their acquaintanceship in +confidence that they were thinking the matter over and thought they +should give it—“and if we do, you will be invited, of course.” +People were surprised, and said, one to another, “Why, they are +crazy, those poor Wilsons, they can’t afford it.” +Several among the nineteen said privately to their husbands, “It +is a good idea, we will keep still till their cheap thing is over, then +<i>we</i> will give one that will make it sick.”</p> +<p>The days drifted along, and the bill of future squanderings rose +higher and higher, wilder and wilder, more and more foolish and reckless. +It began to look as if every member of the nineteen would not only spend +his whole forty thousand dollars before receiving-day, but be actually +in debt by the time he got the money. In some cases light-headed +people did not stop with planning to spend, they really spent—on +credit. They bought land, mortgages, farms, speculative stocks, +fine clothes, horses, and various other things, paid down the bonus, +and made themselves liable for the rest—at ten days. Presently +the sober second thought came, and Halliday noticed that a ghastly anxiety +was beginning to show up in a good many faces. Again he was puzzled, +and didn’t know what to make of it. “The Wilcox kittens +aren’t dead, for they weren’t born; nobody’s broken +a leg; there’s no shrinkage in mother-in-laws; <i>nothing</i> +has happened—it is an insolvable mystery.”</p> +<p>There was another puzzled man, too—the Rev. Mr. Burgess. +For days, wherever he went, people seemed to follow him or to be watching +out for him; and if he ever found himself in a retired spot, a member +of the nineteen would be sure to appear, thrust an envelope privately +into his hand, whisper “To be opened at the town-hall Friday evening,” +then vanish away like a guilty thing. He was expecting that there +might be one claimant for the sack—doubtful, however, Goodson +being dead—but it never occurred to him that all this crowd might +be claimants. When the great Friday came at last, he found that +he had nineteen envelopes.</p> +<h2>III.</h2> +<p>The town-hall had never looked finer. The platform at the end +of it was backed by a showy draping of flags; at intervals along the +walls were festoons of flags; the gallery fronts were clothed in flags; +the supporting columns were swathed in flags; all this was to impress +the stranger, for he would be there in considerable force, and in a +large degree he would be connected with the press. The house was +full. The 412 fixed seats were occupied; also the 68 extra chairs +which had been packed into the aisles; the steps of the platform were +occupied; some distinguished strangers were given seats on the platform; +at the horseshoe of tables which fenced the front and sides of the platform +sat a strong force of special correspondents who had come from everywhere. +It was the best-dressed house the town had ever produced. There +were some tolerably expensive toilets there, and in several cases the +ladies who wore them had the look of being unfamiliar with that kind +of clothes. At least the town thought they had that look, but +the notion could have arisen from the town’s knowledge of the +fact that these ladies had never inhabited such clothes before.</p> +<p>The gold-sack stood on a little table at the front of the platform +where all the house could see it. The bulk of the house gazed +at it with a burning interest, a mouth-watering interest, a wistful +and pathetic interest; a minority of nineteen couples gazed at it tenderly, +lovingly, proprietarily, and the male half of this minority kept saying +over to themselves the moving little impromptu speeches of thankfulness +for the audience’s applause and congratulations which they were +presently going to get up and deliver. Every now and then one +of these got a piece of paper out of his vest pocket and privately glanced +at it to refresh his memory.</p> +<p>Of course there was a buzz of conversation going on—there always +is; but at last, when the Rev. Mr. Burgess rose and laid his hand on +the sack, he could hear his microbes gnaw, the place was so still. +He related the curious history of the sack, then went on to speak in +warm terms of Hadleyburg’s old and well-earned reputation for +spotless honesty, and of the town’s just pride in this reputation. +He said that this reputation was a treasure of priceless value; that +under Providence its value had now become inestimably enhanced, for +the recent episode had spread this fame far and wide, and thus had focussed +the eyes of the American world upon this village, and made its name +for all time, as he hoped and believed, a synonym for commercial incorruptibility. +[Applause.] “And who is to be the guardian of this noble +fame—the community as a whole? No! The responsibility +is individual, not communal. From this day forth each and every +one of you is in his own person its special guardian, and individually +responsible that no harm shall come to it. Do you—does each +of you—accept this great trust? [Tumultuous assent.] +Then all is well. Transmit it to your children and to your children’s +children. To-day your purity is beyond reproach—see to it +that it shall remain so. To-day there is not a person in your +community who could be beguiled to touch a penny not his own—see +to it that you abide in this grace. [“We will! we will!”] +This is not the place to make comparisons between ourselves and other +communities—some of them ungracious towards us; they have their +ways, we have ours; let us be content. [Applause.] I am +done. Under my hand, my friends, rests a stranger’s eloquent +recognition of what we are; through him the world will always henceforth +know what we are. We do not know who he is, but in your name I +utter your gratitude, and ask you to raise your voices in indorsement.”</p> +<p>The house rose in a body and made the walls quake with the thunders +of its thankfulness for the space of a long minute. Then it sat +down, and Mr. Burgess took an envelope out of his pocket. The +house held its breath while he slit the envelope open and took from +it a slip of paper. He read its contents—slowly and impressively—the +audience listening with tranced attention to this magic document, each +of whose words stood for an ingot of gold:</p> +<p>“‘The remark which I made to the distressed stranger +was this: “You are very far from being a bad man; go, and reform.”’” +Then he continued:—“We shall know in a moment now whether +the remark here quoted corresponds with the one concealed in the sack; +and if that shall prove to be so—and it undoubtedly will—this +sack of gold belongs to a fellow-citizen who will henceforth stand before +the nation as the symbol of the special virtue which has made our town +famous throughout the land—Mr. Billson!”</p> +<p>The house had gotten itself all ready to burst into the proper tornado +of applause; but instead of doing it, it seemed stricken with a paralysis; +there was a deep hush for a moment or two, then a wave of whispered +murmurs swept the place—of about this tenor: “<i>Billson</i>! +oh, come, this is <i>too</i> thin! Twenty dollars to a stranger—or +<i>anybody</i>—<i>Billson</i>! Tell it to the marines!” +And now at this point the house caught its breath all of a sudden in +a new access of astonishment, for it discovered that whereas in one +part of the hall Deacon Billson was standing up with his head meekly +bowed, in another part of it Lawyer Wilson was doing the same. +There was a wondering silence now for a while. Everybody was puzzled, +and nineteen couples were surprised and indignant.</p> +<p>Billson and Wilson turned and stared at each other. Billson +asked, bitingly:</p> +<p>“Why do <i>you</i> rise, Mr. Wilson?”</p> +<p>“Because I have a right to. Perhaps you will be good +enough to explain to the house why <i>you</i> rise.”</p> +<p>“With great pleasure. Because I wrote that paper.”</p> +<p>“It is an impudent falsity! I wrote it myself.”</p> +<p>It was Burgess’s turn to be paralysed. He stood looking +vacantly at first one of the men and then the other, and did not seem +to know what to do. The house was stupefied. Lawyer Wilson +spoke up now, and said:</p> +<p>“I ask the Chair to read the name signed to that paper.”</p> +<p>That brought the Chair to itself, and it read out the name:</p> +<p>“John Wharton <i>Billson</i>.”</p> +<p>“There!” shouted Billson, “what have you got to +say for yourself now? And what kind of apology are you going to +make to me and to this insulted house for the imposture which you have +attempted to play here?”</p> +<p>“No apologies are due, sir; and as for the rest of it, I publicly +charge you with pilfering my note from Mr. Burgess and substituting +a copy of it signed with your own name. There is no other way +by which you could have gotten hold of the test-remark; I alone, of +living men, possessed the secret of its wording.”</p> +<p>There was likely to be a scandalous state of things if this went +on; everybody noticed with distress that the shorthand scribes were +scribbling like mad; many people were crying “Chair, chair! +Order! order!” Burgess rapped with his gavel, and said:</p> +<p>“Let us not forget the proprieties due. There has evidently +been a mistake somewhere, but surely that is all. If Mr. Wilson +gave me an envelope—and I remember now that he did—I still +have it.”</p> +<p>He took one out of his pocket, opened it, glanced at it, looked surprised +and worried, and stood silent a few moments. Then he waved his +hand in a wandering and mechanical way, and made an effort or two to +say something, then gave it up, despondently. Several voices cried +out:</p> +<p>“Read it! read it! What is it?”</p> +<p>So he began, in a dazed and sleep-walker fashion:</p> +<p>“‘The remark which I made to the unhappy stranger was +this: “You are far from being a bad man. [The house gazed +at him marvelling.] Go, and reform.”’ [Murmurs: +“Amazing! what can this mean?”] This one,” said +the Chair, “is signed Thurlow G. Wilson.”</p> +<p>“There!” cried Wilson, “I reckon that settles it! +I knew perfectly well my note was purloined.”</p> +<p>“Purloined!” retorted Billson. “I’ll +let you know that neither you nor any man of your kidney must venture +to—”</p> +<p>The Chair: “Order, gentlemen, order! Take your seats, +both of you, please.”</p> +<p>They obeyed, shaking their heads and grumbling angrily. The +house was profoundly puzzled; it did not know what to do with this curious +emergency. Presently Thompson got up. Thompson was the hatter. +He would have liked to be a Nineteener; but such was not for him; his +stock of hats was not considerable enough for the position. He +said:</p> +<p>“Mr. Chairman, if I may be permitted to make a suggestion, +can both of these gentlemen be right? I put it to you, sir, can +both have happened to say the very same words to the stranger? +It seems to me—”</p> +<p>The tanner got up and interrupted him. The tanner was a disgruntled +man; he believed himself entitled to be a Nineteener, but he couldn’t +get recognition. It made him a little unpleasant in his ways and +speech. Said he:</p> +<p>“Sho, <i>that’s</i> not the point! <i>That</i> +could happen—twice in a hundred years—but not the other +thing. <i>Neither</i> of them gave the twenty dollars!” +[A ripple of applause.]</p> +<p>Billson. “I did!”</p> +<p>Wilson. “I did!”</p> +<p>Then each accused the other of pilfering.</p> +<p>The Chair. “Order! Sit down, if you please—both +of you. Neither of the notes has been out of my possession at +any moment.”</p> +<p>A Voice. “Good—that settles <i>that</i>!”</p> +<p>The Tanner. “Mr. Chairman, one thing is now plain: one +of these men has been eavesdropping under the other one’s bed, +and filching family secrets. If it is not unparliamentary to suggest +it, I will remark that both are equal to it. [The Chair. +“Order! order!”] I withdraw the remark, sir, and will +confine myself to suggesting that <i>if</i> one of them has overheard +the other reveal the test-remark to his wife, we shall catch him now.”</p> +<p>A Voice. “How?”</p> +<p>The Tanner. “Easily. The two have not quoted the +remark in exactly the same words. You would have noticed that, +if there hadn’t been a considerable stretch of time and an exciting +quarrel inserted between the two readings.”</p> +<p>A Voice. “Name the difference.”</p> +<p>The Tanner. “The word <i>very</i> is in Billson’s +note, and not in the other.”</p> +<p>Many Voices. “That’s so—he’s right!”</p> +<p>The Tanner. “And so, if the Chair will examine the test-remark +in the sack, we shall know which of these two frauds—[The Chair. +“Order!”]—which of these two adventurers—[The +Chair. “Order! order!”]—which of these two gentlemen—[laughter +and applause]—is entitled to wear the belt as being the first +dishonest blatherskite ever bred in this town—which he has dishonoured, +and which will be a sultry place for him from now out!” +[Vigorous applause.]</p> +<p>Many Voices. “Open it!—open the sack!”</p> +<p>Mr. Burgess made a slit in the sack, slid his hand in, and brought +out an envelope. In it were a couple of folded notes. He +said:</p> +<p>“One of these is marked, ‘Not to be examined until all +written communications which have been addressed to the Chair—if +any—shall have been read.’ The other is marked ‘<i>The +Test</i>.’ Allow me. It is worded—to wit:</p> +<p>“‘I do not require that the first half of the remark +which was made to me by my benefactor shall be quoted with exactness, +for it was not striking, and could be forgotten; but its closing fifteen +words are quite striking, and I think easily rememberable; unless <i>these</i> +shall be accurately reproduced, let the applicant be regarded as an +impostor. My benefactor began by saying he seldom gave advice +to anyone, but that it always bore the hall-mark of high value when +he did give it. Then he said this—and it has never faded +from my memory: ‘<i>You are far from being a bad man</i>—’’”</p> +<p>Fifty Voices. “That settles it—the money’s +Wilson’s! Wilson! Wilson! Speech! Speech!”</p> +<p>People jumped up and crowded around Wilson, wringing his hand and +congratulating fervently—meantime the Chair was hammering with +the gavel and shouting:</p> +<p>“Order, gentlemen! Order! Order! Let me finish +reading, please.” When quiet was restored, the reading was +resumed—as follows:</p> +<p>“‘<i>Go, and reform—or, mark my words—some +day, for your sins you will die and go to hell or Hadleyburg</i>—TRY +AND MAKE IT THE FORMER.’”</p> +<p>A ghastly silence followed. First an angry cloud began to settle +darkly upon the faces of the citizenship; after a pause the cloud began +to rise, and a tickled expression tried to take its place; tried so +hard that it was only kept under with great and painful difficulty; +the reporters, the Brixtonites, and other strangers bent their heads +down and shielded their faces with their hands, and managed to hold +in by main strength and heroic courtesy. At this most inopportune +time burst upon the stillness the roar of a solitary voice—Jack +Halliday’s:</p> +<p>“<i>That’s</i> got the hall-mark on it!”</p> +<p>Then the house let go, strangers and all. Even Mr. Burgess’s +gravity broke down presently, then the audience considered itself officially +absolved from all restraint, and it made the most of its privilege. +It was a good long laugh, and a tempestuously wholehearted one, but +it ceased at last—long enough for Mr. Burgess to try to resume, +and for the people to get their eyes partially wiped; then it broke +out again, and afterward yet again; then at last Burgess was able to +get out these serious words:</p> +<p>“It is useless to try to disguise the fact—we find ourselves +in the presence of a matter of grave import. It involves the honour +of your town—it strikes at the town’s good name. The +difference of a single word between the test-remarks offered by Mr. +Wilson and Mr. Billson was itself a serious thing, since it indicated +that one or the other of these gentlemen had committed a theft—”</p> +<p>The two men were sitting limp, nerveless, crushed; but at these words +both were electrified into movement, and started to get up.</p> +<p>“Sit down!” said the Chair, sharply, and they obeyed. +“That, as I have said, was a serious thing. And it was—but +for only one of them. But the matter has become graver; for the +honour of <i>both</i> is now in formidable peril. Shall I go even +further, and say in inextricable peril? <i>Both</i> left out the +crucial fifteen words.” He paused. During several +moments he allowed the pervading stillness to gather and deepen its +impressive effects, then added: “There would seem to be but one +way whereby this could happen. I ask these gentlemen—Was +there <i>collusion</i>?—<i>agreement</i>?”</p> +<p>A low murmur sifted through the house; its import was, “He’s +got them both.”</p> +<p>Billson was not used to emergencies; he sat in a helpless collapse. +But Wilson was a lawyer. He struggled to his feet, pale and worried, +and said:</p> +<p>“I ask the indulgence of the house while I explain this most +painful matter. I am sorry to say what I am about to say, since +it must inflict irreparable injury upon Mr. Billson, whom I have always +esteemed and respected until now, and in whose invulnerability to temptation +I entirely believed—as did you all. But for the preservation +of my own honour I must speak—and with frankness. I confess +with shame—and I now beseech your pardon for it—that I said +to the ruined stranger all of the words contained in the test-remark, +including the disparaging fifteen. [Sensation.] When the +late publication was made I recalled them, and I resolved to claim the +sack of coin, for by every right I was entitled to it. Now I will +ask you to consider this point, and weigh it well; that stranger’s +gratitude to me that night knew no bounds; he said himself that he could +find no words for it that were adequate, and that if he should ever +be able he would repay me a thousandfold. Now, then, I ask you +this; could I expect—could I believe—could I even remotely +imagine—that, feeling as he did, he would do so ungrateful a thing +as to add those quite unnecessary fifteen words to his test?—set +a trap for me?—expose me as a slanderer of my own town before +my own people assembled in a public hall? It was preposterous; +it was impossible. His test would contain only the kindly opening +clause of my remark. Of that I had no shadow of doubt. You +would have thought as I did. You would not have expected a base +betrayal from one whom you had befriended and against whom you had committed +no offence. And so with perfect confidence, perfect trust, I wrote +on a piece of paper the opening words—ending with “Go, and +reform,”—and signed it. When I was about to put it +in an envelope I was called into my back office, and without thinking +I left the paper lying open on my desk.” He stopped, turned +his head slowly toward Billson, waited a moment, then added: “I +ask you to note this; when I returned, a little latter, Mr. Billson +was retiring by my street door.” [Sensation.]</p> +<p>In a moment Billson was on his feet and shouting:</p> +<p>“It’s a lie! It’s an infamous lie!”</p> +<p>The Chair. “Be seated, sir! Mr. Wilson has the +floor.”</p> +<p>Billson’s friends pulled him into his seat and quieted him, +and Wilson went on:</p> +<p>“Those are the simple facts. My note was now lying in +a different place on the table from where I had left it. I noticed +that, but attached no importance to it, thinking a draught had blown +it there. That Mr. Billson would read a private paper was a thing +which could not occur to me; he was an honourable man, and he would +be above that. If you will allow me to say it, I think his extra +word ‘<i>very</i>’ stands explained: it is attributable +to a defect of memory. I was the only man in the world who could +furnish here any detail of the test-mark—by <i>honourable</i> +means. I have finished.”</p> +<p>There is nothing in the world like a persuasive speech to fuddle +the mental apparatus and upset the convictions and debauch the emotions +of an audience not practised in the tricks and delusions of oratory. +Wilson sat down victorious. The house submerged him in tides of +approving applause; friends swarmed to him and shook him by the hand +and congratulated him, and Billson was shouted down and not allowed +to say a word. The Chair hammered and hammered with its gavel, +and kept shouting:</p> +<p>“But let us proceed, gentlemen, let us proceed!”</p> +<p>At last there was a measurable degree of quiet, and the hatter said:</p> +<p>“But what is there to proceed with, sir, but to deliver the +money?”</p> +<p>Voices. “That’s it! That’s it! +Come forward, Wilson!”</p> +<p>The Hatter. “I move three cheers for Mr. Wilson, Symbol +of the special virtue which—”</p> +<p>The cheers burst forth before he could finish; and in the midst of +them—and in the midst of the clamour of the gavel also—some +enthusiasts mounted Wilson on a big friend’s shoulder and were +going to fetch him in triumph to the platform. The Chair’s +voice now rose above the noise:</p> +<p>“Order! To your places! You forget that there is +still a document to be read.” When quiet had been restored +he took up the document, and was going to read it, but laid it down +again saying “I forgot; this is not to be read until all written +communications received by me have first been read.” He +took an envelope out of his pocket, removed its enclosure, glanced at +it—seemed astonished—held it out and gazed at it—stared +at it.</p> +<p>Twenty or thirty voices cried out</p> +<p>“What is it? Read it! read it!”</p> +<p>And he did—slowly, and wondering:</p> +<p>“‘The remark which I made to the stranger—[Voices. +“Hello! how’s this?”]—was this: ‘You are +far from being a bad man. [Voices. “Great Scott!”] +Go, and reform.’” [Voice. “Oh, saw my +leg off!”] Signed by Mr. Pinkerton the banker.”</p> +<p>The pandemonium of delight which turned itself loose now was of a +sort to make the judicious weep. Those whose withers were unwrung +laughed till the tears ran down; the reporters, in throes of laughter, +set down disordered pot-hooks which would never in the world be decipherable; +and a sleeping dog jumped up scared out of its wits, and barked itself +crazy at the turmoil. All manner of cries were scattered through +the din: “We’re getting rich—<i>two</i> Symbols of +Incorruptibility!—without counting Billson!” “<i>Three</i>!—count +Shadbelly in—we can’t have too many!” “All +right—Billson’s elected!” “Alas, poor +Wilson! victim of <i>two</i> thieves!”</p> +<p>A Powerful Voice. “Silence! The Chair’s fished +up something more out of its pocket.”</p> +<p>Voices. “Hurrah! Is it something fresh? Read +it! read! read!”</p> +<p>The Chair [reading]. “‘The remark which I made,’ +etc. ‘You are far from being a bad man. Go,’ +etc. Signed, ‘Gregory Yates.’”</p> +<p>Tornado of Voices. “Four Symbols!” “’Rah +for Yates!” “Fish again!”</p> +<p>The house was in a roaring humour now, and ready to get all the fun +out of the occasion that might be in it. Several Nineteeners, +looking pale and distressed, got up and began to work their way towards +the aisles, but a score of shouts went up:</p> +<p>“The doors, the doors—close the doors; no Incorruptible +shall leave this place! Sit down, everybody!” The +mandate was obeyed.</p> +<p>“Fish again! Read! read!”</p> +<p>The Chair fished again, and once more the familiar words began to +fall from its lips—“‘You are far from being a bad +man—’”</p> +<p>“Name! name! What’s his name?”</p> +<p>“‘L. Ingoldsby Sargent.’”</p> +<p>“Five elected! Pile up the Symbols! Go on, go on!”</p> +<p>“‘You are far from being a bad—’”</p> +<p>“Name! name!”</p> +<p>“‘Nicholas Whitworth.’”</p> +<p>“Hooray! hooray! it’s a symbolical day!”</p> +<p>Somebody wailed in, and began to sing this rhyme (leaving out “it’s”) +to the lovely “Mikado” tune of “When a man’s +afraid of a beautiful maid;” the audience joined in, with joy; +then, just in time, somebody contributed another line—</p> +<blockquote><p>“And don’t you this forget—”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The house roared it out. A third line was at once furnished—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Corruptibles far from Hadleyburg are—”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The house roared that one too. As the last note died, Jack +Halliday’s voice rose high and clear, freighted with a final line—</p> +<blockquote><p>“But the Symbols are here, you bet!”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>That was sung, with booming enthusiasm. Then the happy house +started in at the beginning and sang the four lines through twice, with +immense swing and dash, and finished up with a crashing three-times-three +and a tiger for “Hadleyburg the Incorruptible and all Symbols +of it which we shall find worthy to receive the hall-mark to-night.”</p> +<p>Then the shoutings at the Chair began again, all over the place:</p> +<p>“Go on! go on! Read! read some more! Read all you’ve +got!”</p> +<p>“That’s it—go on! We are winning eternal +celebrity!”</p> +<p>A dozen men got up now and began to protest. They said that +this farce was the work of some abandoned joker, and was an insult to +the whole community. Without a doubt these signatures were all +forgeries—</p> +<p>“Sit down! sit down! Shut up! You are confessing. +We’ll find your names in the lot.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Chairman, how many of those envelopes have you got?”</p> +<p>The Chair counted.</p> +<p>“Together with those that have been already examined, there +are nineteen.”</p> +<p>A storm of derisive applause broke out.</p> +<p>“Perhaps they all contain the secret. I move that you +open them all and read every signature that is attached to a note of +that sort—and read also the first eight words of the note.”</p> +<p>“Second the motion!”</p> +<p>It was put and carried—uproariously. Then poor old Richards +got up, and his wife rose and stood at his side. Her head was +bent down, so that none might see that she was crying. Her husband +gave her his arm, and so supporting her, he began to speak in a quavering +voice:</p> +<p>“My friends, you have known us two—Mary and me—all +our lives, and I think you have liked us and respected us—”</p> +<p>The Chair interrupted him:</p> +<p>“Allow me. It is quite true—that which you are +saying, Mr. Richards; this town <i>does</i> know you two; it <i>does</i> +like you; it <i>does</i> respect you; more—it honours you and +<i>loves</i> you—”</p> +<p>Halliday’s voice rang out:</p> +<p>“That’s the hall-marked truth, too! If the Chair +is right, let the house speak up and say it. Rise! Now, +then—hip! hip! hip!—all together!”</p> +<p>The house rose in mass, faced toward the old couple eagerly, filled +the air with a snow-storm of waving handkerchiefs, and delivered the +cheers with all its affectionate heart.</p> +<p>The Chair then continued:</p> +<p>“What I was going to say is this: We know your good heart, +Mr. Richards, but this is not a time for the exercise of charity toward +offenders. [Shouts of “Right! right!”] I see +your generous purpose in your face, but I cannot allow you to plead +for these men—”</p> +<p>“But I was going to—”</p> +<p>“Please take your seat, Mr. Richards. We must examine +the rest of these notes—simple fairness to the men who have already +been exposed requires this. As soon as that has been done—I +give you my word for this—you shall he heard.”</p> +<p>Many voices. “Right!—the Chair is right—no +interruption can be permitted at this stage! Go on!—the +names! the names!—according to the terms of the motion!”</p> +<p>The old couple sat reluctantly down, and the husband whispered to +the wife, “It is pitifully hard to have to wait; the shame will +be greater than ever when they find we were only going to plead for +<i>ourselves</i>.”</p> +<p>Straightway the jollity broke loose again with the reading of the +names.</p> +<p>“‘You are far from being a bad man—’ Signature, +‘Robert J. Titmarsh.’”</p> +<p>“‘You are far from being a bad man—’ Signature, +‘Eliphalet Weeks.’”</p> +<p>“‘You are far from being a bad man—’ Signature, +‘Oscar B. Wilder.’”</p> +<p>At this point the house lit upon the idea of taking the eight words +out of the Chairman’s hands. He was not unthankful for that. +Thenceforward he held up each note in its turn and waited. The +house droned out the eight words in a massed and measured and musical +deep volume of sound (with a daringly close resemblance to a well-known +church chant)—“You are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-a-d man.” +Then the Chair said, “Signature, ‘Archibald Wilcox.’” +And so on, and so on, name after name, and everybody had an increasingly +and gloriously good time except the wretched Nineteen. Now and +then, when a particularly shining name was called, the house made the +Chair wait while it chanted the whole of the test-remark from the beginning +to the closing words, “And go to hell or Hadleyburg—try +and make it the for-or-m-e-r!” and in these special cases they +added a grand and agonised and imposing “A-a-a-a-<i>men</i>!”</p> +<p>The list dwindled, dwindled, dwindled, poor old Richards keeping +tally of the count, wincing when a name resembling his own was pronounced, +and waiting in miserable suspense for the time to come when it would +be his humiliating privilege to rise with Mary and finish his plea, +which he was intending to word thus: “... for until now we have +never done any wrong thing, but have gone our humble way unreproached. +We are very poor, we are old, and, have no chick nor child to help us; +we were sorely tempted, and we fell. It was my purpose when I +got up before to make confession and beg that my name might not be read +out in this public place, for it seemed to us that we could not bear +it; but I was prevented. It was just; it was our place to suffer +with the rest. It has been hard for us. It is the first +time we have ever heard our name fall from any one’s lips—sullied. +Be merciful—for the sake or the better days; make our shame as +light to bear as in your charity you can.” At this point +in his reverie Mary nudged him, perceiving that his mind was absent. +The house was chanting, “You are f-a-r,” etc.</p> +<p>“Be ready,” Mary whispered. “Your name comes +now; he has read eighteen.”</p> +<p>The chant ended.</p> +<p>“Next! next! next!” came volleying from all over the +house.</p> +<p>Burgess put his hand into his pocket. The old couple, trembling, +began to rise. Burgess fumbled a moment, then said:</p> +<p>“I find I have read them all.”</p> +<p>Faint with joy and surprise, the couple sank into their seats, and +Mary whispered:</p> +<p>“Oh, bless God, we are saved!—he has lost ours—I +wouldn’t give this for a hundred of those sacks!”</p> +<p>The house burst out with its “Mikado” travesty, and sang +it three times with ever-increasing enthusiasm, rising to its feet when +it reached for the third time the closing line—</p> +<blockquote><p>“But the Symbols are here, you bet!”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>and finishing up with cheers and a tiger for “Hadleyburg purity +and our eighteen immortal representatives of it.”</p> +<p>Then Wingate, the saddler, got up and proposed cheers “for +the cleanest man in town, the one solitary important citizen in it who +didn’t try to steal that money—Edward Richards.”</p> +<p>They were given with great and moving heartiness; then somebody proposed +that “Richards be elected sole Guardian and Symbol of the now +Sacred Hadleyburg Tradition, with power and right to stand up and look +the whole sarcastic world in the face.”</p> +<p>Passed, by acclamation; then they sang the “Mikado” again, +and ended it with—</p> +<blockquote><p>“And there’s <i>one</i> Symbol left, you +bet!”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>There was a pause; then—</p> +<p>A Voice. “Now, then, who’s to get the sack?”</p> +<p>The Tanner (with bitter sarcasm). “That’s easy. +The money has to be divided among the eighteen Incorruptibles. +They gave the suffering stranger twenty dollars apiece—and that +remark—each in his turn—it took twenty-two minutes for the +procession to move past. Staked the stranger—total contribution, +$360. All they want is just the loan back—and interest—forty +thousand dollars altogether.”</p> +<p>Many Voices [derisively.] “That’s it! Divvy! +divvy! Be kind to the poor—don’t keep them waiting!”</p> +<p>The Chair. “Order! I now offer the stranger’s +remaining document. It says: ‘If no claimant shall appear +[grand chorus of groans], I desire that you open the sack and count +out the money to the principal citizens of your town, they to take it +in trust [Cries of “Oh! Oh! Oh!”], and use it in such ways +as to them shall seem best for the propagation and preservation of your +community’s noble reputation for incorruptible honesty [more cries]—a +reputation to which their names and their efforts will add a new and +far-reaching lustre.” [Enthusiastic outburst of sarcastic +applause.] That seems to be all. No—here is a postscript:</p> +<p>“‘P.S.—CITIZENS OF HADLEYBURG: There <i>is</i> +no test-remark—nobody made one. [Great sensation.] +There wasn’t any pauper stranger, nor any twenty-dollar contribution, +nor any accompanying benediction and compliment—these are all +inventions. [General buzz and hum of astonishment and delight.] +Allow me to tell my story—it will take but a word or two. +I passed through your town at a certain time, and received a deep offence +which I had not earned. Any other man would have been content +to kill one or two of you and call it square, but to me that would have +been a trivial revenge, and inadequate; for the dead do not <i>suffer</i>. +Besides I could not kill you all—and, anyway, made as I am, even +that would not have satisfied me. I wanted to damage every man +in the place, and every woman—and not in their bodies or in their +estate, but in their vanity—the place where feeble and foolish +people are most vulnerable. So I disguised myself and came back +and studied you. You were easy game. You had an old and +lofty reputation for honesty, and naturally you were proud of it—it +was your treasure of treasures, the very apple of your eye. As +soon as I found out that you carefully and vigilantly kept yourselves +and your children <i>out of temptation</i>, I knew how to proceed. +Why, you simple creatures, the weakest of all weak things is a virtue +which has not been tested in the fire. I laid a plan, and gathered +a list of names. My project was to corrupt Hadleyburg the Incorruptible. +My idea was to make liars and thieves of nearly half a hundred smirchless +men and women who had never in their lives uttered a lie or stolen a +penny. I was afraid of Goodson. He was neither born nor +reared in Hadleyburg. I was afraid that if I started to operate +my scheme by getting my letter laid before you, you would say to yourselves, +‘Goodson is the only man among us who would give away twenty dollars +to a poor devil’—and then you might not bite at my bait. +But heaven took Goodson; then I knew I was safe, and I set my trap and +baited it. It may be that I shall not catch all the men to whom +I mailed the pretended test-secret, but I shall catch the most of them, +if I know Hadleyburg nature. [Voices. “Right—he +got every last one of them.”] I believe they will even steal +ostensible <i>gamble</i>-money, rather than miss, poor, tempted, and +mistrained fellows. I am hoping to eternally and everlastingly +squelch your vanity and give Hadleyburg a new renown—one that +will <i>stick</i>—and spread far. If I have succeeded, open +the sack and summon the Committee on Propagation and Preservation of +the Hadleyburg Reputation.’”</p> +<p>A Cyclone of Voices. “Open it! Open it! The +Eighteen to the front! Committee on Propagation of the Tradition! +Forward—the Incorruptibles!”</p> +<p>The Chair ripped the sack wide, and gathered up a handful of bright, +broad, yellow coins, shook them together, then examined them.</p> +<p>“Friends, they are only gilded disks of lead!”</p> +<p>There was a crashing outbreak of delight over this news, and when +the noise had subsided, the tanner called out:</p> +<p>“By right of apparent seniority in this business, Mr. Wilson +is Chairman of the Committee on Propagation of the Tradition. +I suggest that he step forward on behalf of his pals, and receive in +trust the money.”</p> +<p>A Hundred Voices. “Wilson! Wilson! Wilson! +Speech! Speech!”</p> +<p>Wilson [in a voice trembling with anger]. “You will allow +me to say, and without apologies for my language, <i>damn</i> the money!”</p> +<p>A Voice. “Oh, and him a Baptist!”</p> +<p>A Voice. “Seventeen Symbols left! Step up, gentlemen, +and assume your trust!”</p> +<p>There was a pause—no response.</p> +<p>The Saddler. “Mr. Chairman, we’ve got <i>one</i> +clean man left, anyway, out of the late aristocracy; and he needs money, +and deserves it. I move that you appoint Jack Halliday to get +up there and auction off that sack of gilt twenty-dollar pieces, and +give the result to the right man—the man whom Hadleyburg delights +to honour—Edward Richards.”</p> +<p>This was received with great enthusiasm, the dog taking a hand again; +the saddler started the bids at a dollar, the Brixton folk and Barnum’s +representative fought hard for it, the people cheered every jump that +the bids made, the excitement climbed moment by moment higher and higher, +the bidders got on their mettle and grew steadily more and more daring, +more and more determined, the jumps went from a dollar up to five, then +to ten, then to twenty, then fifty, then to a hundred, then—</p> +<p>At the beginning of the auction Richards whispered in distress to +his wife: “Oh, Mary, can we allow it? It—it—you +see, it is an honour—reward, a testimonial to purity of character, +and—and—can we allow it? Hadn’t I better get +up and—Oh, Mary, what ought we to do?—what do you think +we—” [Halliday’s voice. “Fifteen I’m +bid!—fifteen for the sack!—twenty!—ah, thanks!—thirty—thanks +again! Thirty, thirty, thirty!—do I hear forty?—forty +it is! Keep the ball rolling, gentlemen, keep it rolling!—fifty!—thanks, +noble Roman!—going at fifty, fifty, fifty!—seventy!—ninety!—splendid!—a +hundred!—pile it up, pile it up!—hundred and twenty—forty!—just +in time!—hundred and fifty!—Two hundred!—superb! +Do I hear two h—thanks!—two hundred and fifty!—”]</p> +<p>“It is another temptation, Edward—I’m all in a +tremble—but, oh, we’ve escaped one temptation, and that +ought to warn us, to—[“Six did I hear?—thanks!—six +fifty, six f—SEVEN hundred!”] And yet, Edward, when +you think—nobody susp—[“Eight hundred dollars!—hurrah!—make +it nine!—Mr. Parsons, did I hear you say—thanks!—nine!—this +noble sack of virgin lead going at only nine hundred dollars, gilding +and all—come! do I hear—a thousand!—gratefully yours!—did +some one say eleven?—a sack which is going to be the most celebrated +in the whole Uni—”] “Oh, Edward” (beginning +to sob), “we are so poor!—but—but—do as you +think best—do as you think best.”</p> +<p>Edward fell—that is, he sat still; sat with a conscience which +was not satisfied, but which was overpowered by circumstances.</p> +<p>Meantime a stranger, who looked like an amateur detective gotten +up as an impossible English earl, had been watching the evening’s +proceedings with manifest interest, and with a contented expression +in his face; and he had been privately commenting to himself. +He was now soliloquising somewhat like this: “None of the Eighteen +are bidding; that is not satisfactory; I must change that—the +dramatic unities require it; they must buy the sack they tried to steal; +they must pay a heavy price, too—some of them are rich. +And another thing, when I make a mistake in Hadleyburg nature the man +that puts that error upon me is entitled to a high honorarium, and some +one must pay. This poor old Richards has brought my judgment to +shame; he is an honest man:—I don’t understand it, but I +acknowledge it. Yes, he saw my deuces—<i>and</i> with a +straight flush, and by rights the pot is his. And it shall be +a jack-pot, too, if I can manage it. He disappointed me, but let +that pass.”</p> +<p>He was watching the bidding. At a thousand, the market broke: +the prices tumbled swiftly. He waited—and still watched. +One competitor dropped out; then another, and another. He put +in a bid or two now. When the bids had sunk to ten dollars, he +added a five; some one raised him a three; he waited a moment, then +flung in a fifty-dollar jump, and the sack was his—at $1,282. +The house broke out in cheers—then stopped; for he was on his +feet, and had lifted his hand. He began to speak.</p> +<p>“I desire to say a word, and ask a favour. I am a speculator +in rarities, and I have dealings with persons interested in numismatics +all over the world. I can make a profit on this purchase, just +as it stands; but there is a way, if I can get your approval, whereby +I can make every one of these leaden twenty-dollar pieces worth its +face in gold, and perhaps more. Grant me that approval, and I +will give part of my gains to your Mr. Richards, whose invulnerable +probity you have so justly and so cordially recognised to-night; his +share shall be ten thousand dollars, and I will hand him the money to-morrow. +[Great applause from the house. But the “invulnerable probity” +made the Richardses blush prettily; however, it went for modesty, and +did no harm.] If you will pass my proposition by a good majority—I +would like a two-thirds vote—I will regard that as the town’s +consent, and that is all I ask. Rarities are always helped by +any device which will rouse curiosity and compel remark. Now if +I may have your permission to stamp upon the faces of each of these +ostensible coins the names of the eighteen gentlemen who—”</p> +<p>Nine-tenths of the audience were on their feet in a moment—dog +and all—and the proposition was carried with a whirlwind of approving +applause and laughter.</p> +<p>They sat down, and all the Symbols except “Dr.” Clay +Harkness got up, violently protesting against the proposed outrage, +and threatening to—</p> +<p>“I beg you not to threaten me,” said the stranger calmly. +“I know my legal rights, and am not accustomed to being frightened +at bluster.” [Applause.] He sat down. “Dr.” +Harkness saw an opportunity here. He was one of the two very rich +men of the place, and Pinkerton was the other. Harkness was proprietor +of a mint; that is to say, a popular patent medicine. He was running +for the Legislature on one ticket, and Pinkerton on the other. +It was a close race and a hot one, and getting hotter every day. +Both had strong appetites for money; each had bought a great tract of +land, with a purpose; there was going to be a new railway, and each +wanted to be in the Legislature and help locate the route to his own +advantage; a single vote might make the decision, and with it two or +three fortunes. The stake was large, and Harkness was a daring +speculator. He was sitting close to the stranger. He leaned +over while one or another of the other Symbols was entertaining the +house with protests and appeals, and asked, in a whisper,</p> +<p>“What is your price for the sack?”</p> +<p>“Forty thousand dollars.”</p> +<p>“I’ll give you twenty.”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“Twenty-five.”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“Say thirty.”</p> +<p>“The price is forty thousand dollars; not a penny less.”</p> +<p>“All right, I’ll give it. I will come to the hotel +at ten in the morning. I don’t want it known; will see you +privately.”</p> +<p>“Very good.” Then the stranger got up and said +to the house:</p> +<p>“I find it late. The speeches of these gentlemen are +not without merit, not without interest, not without grace; yet if I +may be excused I will take my leave. I thank you for the great +favour which you have shown me in granting my petition. I ask +the Chair to keep the sack for me until to-morrow, and to hand these +three five-hundred-dollar notes to Mr. Richards.” They were +passed up to the Chair.</p> +<p>“At nine I will call for the sack, and at eleven will deliver +the rest of the ten thousand to Mr. Richards in person at his home. +Good-night.”</p> +<p>Then he slipped out, and left the audience making a vast noise, which +was composed of a mixture of cheers, the “Mikado” song, +dog-disapproval, and the chant, “You are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-d +man—a-a-a a-men!”</p> +<h2>IV.</h2> +<p>At home the Richardses had to endure congratulations and compliments +until midnight. Then they were left to themselves. They +looked a little sad, and they sat silent and thinking. Finally +Mary sighed and said:</p> +<p>“Do you think we are to blame, Edward—<i>much</i> to +blame?” and her eyes wandered to the accusing triplet of big bank-notes +lying on the table, where the congratulators had been gloating over +them and reverently fingering them. Edward did not answer at once; +then he brought out a sigh and said, hesitatingly:</p> +<p>“We—we couldn’t help it, Mary. It—well +it was ordered. <i>All</i> things are.”</p> +<p>Mary glanced up and looked at him steadily, but he didn’t return +the look. Presently she said:</p> +<p>“I thought congratulations and praises always tasted good. +But—it seems to me, now—Edward?”</p> +<p>“Well?”</p> +<p>“Are you going to stay in the bank?”</p> +<p>“N—no.”</p> +<p>“Resign?”</p> +<p>“In the morning—by note.”</p> +<p>“It does seem best.”</p> +<p>Richards bowed his head in his hands and muttered:</p> +<p>“Before I was not afraid to let oceans of people’s money +pour through my hands, but—Mary, I am so tired, so tired—”</p> +<p>“We will go to bed.”</p> +<p>At nine in the morning the stranger called for the sack and took +it to the hotel in a cab. At ten Harkness had a talk with him +privately. The stranger asked for and got five cheques on a metropolitan +bank—drawn to “Bearer,”—four for $1,500 each, +and one for $34,000. He put one of the former in his pocket-book, +and the remainder, representing $38,500, he put in an envelope, and +with these he added a note which he wrote after Harkness was gone. +At eleven he called at the Richards’ house and knocked. +Mrs. Richards peeped through the shutters, then went and received the +envelope, and the stranger disappeared without a word. She came +back flushed and a little unsteady on her legs, and gasped out:</p> +<p>“I am sure I recognised him! Last night it seemed to +me that maybe I had seen him somewhere before.”</p> +<p>“He is the man that brought the sack here?”</p> +<p>“I am almost sure of it.”</p> +<p>“Then he is the ostensible Stephenson too, and sold every important +citizen in this town with his bogus secret. Now if he has sent +cheques instead of money, we are sold too, after we thought we had escaped. +I was beginning to feel fairly comfortable once more, after my night’s +rest, but the look of that envelope makes me sick. It isn’t +fat enough; $8,500 in even the largest bank-notes makes more bulk than +that.”</p> +<p>“Edward, why do you object to cheques?”</p> +<p>“Cheques signed by Stephenson! I am resigned to take +the $8,500 if it could come in bank-notes—for it does seem that +it was so ordered, Mary—but I have never had much courage, and +I have not the pluck to try to market a cheque signed with that disastrous +name. It would be a trap. That man tried to catch me; we +escaped somehow or other; and now he is trying a new way. If it +is cheques—”</p> +<p>“Oh, Edward, it is <i>too</i> bad!” And she held +up the cheques and began to cry.</p> +<p>“Put them in the fire! quick! we mustn’t be tempted. +It is a trick to make the world laugh at <i>us</i>, along with the rest, +and—Give them to <i>me</i>, since you can’t do it!” +He snatched them and tried to hold his grip till he could get to the +stove; but he was human, he was a cashier, and he stopped a moment to +make sure of the signature. Then he came near to fainting.</p> +<p>“Fan me, Mary, fan me! They are the same as gold!”</p> +<p>“Oh, how lovely, Edward! Why?”</p> +<p>“Signed by Harkness. What can the mystery of that be, +Mary?”</p> +<p>“Edward, do you think—”</p> +<p>“Look here—look at this! Fifteen—fifteen—fifteen—thirty-four. +Thirty-eight thousand five hundred! Mary, the sack isn’t +worth twelve dollars, and Harkness—apparently—has paid about +par for it.”</p> +<p>“And does it all come to us, do you think—instead of +the ten thousand?”</p> +<p>“Why, it looks like it. And the cheques are made to ‘Bearer,’ +too.”</p> +<p>“Is that good, Edward? What is it for?”</p> +<p>“A hint to collect them at some distant bank, I reckon. +Perhaps Harkness doesn’t want the matter known. What is +that—a note?”</p> +<p>“Yes. It was with the cheques.”</p> +<p>It was in the “Stephenson” handwriting, but there was +no signature. It said:</p> +<blockquote><p>“I am a disappointed man. Your honesty is +beyond the reach of temptation. I had a different idea about it, +but I wronged you in that, and I beg pardon, and do it sincerely. +I honour you—and that is sincere too. This town is not worthy +to kiss the hem of your garment. Dear sir, I made a square bet +with myself that there were nineteen debauchable men in your self-righteous +community. I have lost. Take the whole pot, you are entitled +to it.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Richards drew a deep sigh, and said:</p> +<p>“It seems written with fire—it burns so. Mary—I +am miserable again.”</p> +<p>“I, too. Ah, dear, I wish—”</p> +<p>“To think, Mary—he <i>believes</i> in me.”<br> +</p> +<p>“Oh, don’t, Edward—I can’t bear it.”</p> +<p>“If those beautiful words were deserved, Mary—and God +knows I believed I deserved them once—I think I could give the +forty thousand dollars for them. And I would put that paper away, +as representing more than gold and jewels, and keep it always. +But now—We could not live in the shadow of its accusing presence, +Mary.”</p> +<p>He put it in the fire.</p> +<p>A messenger arrived and delivered an envelope. Richards took +from it a note and read it; it was from Burgess:</p> +<blockquote><p>“You saved me, in a difficult time. I saved +you last night. It was at cost of a lie, but I made the sacrifice +freely, and out of a grateful heart. None in this village knows +so well as I know how brave and good and noble you are. At bottom +you cannot respect me, knowing as you do of that matter of which I am +accused, and by the general voice condemned; but I beg that you will +at least believe that I am a grateful man; it will help me to bear my +burden. [Signed] ‘BURGESS.’”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Saved, once more. And on such terms!” He +put the note in the fire. “I—I wish I were dead, Mary, +I wish I were out of it all!”</p> +<p>“Oh, these are bitter, bitter days, Edward. The stabs, +through their very generosity, are so deep—and they come so fast!”</p> +<p>Three days before the election each of two thousand voters suddenly +found himself in possession of a prized memento—one of the renowned +bogus double-eagles. Around one of its faces was stamped these +words: “THE REMARK I MADE TO THE POOR STRANGER WAS—” +Around the other face was stamped these: “GO, AND REFORM. +[SIGNED] PINKERTON.” Thus the entire remaining refuse of +the renowned joke was emptied upon a single head, and with calamitous +effect. It revived the recent vast laugh and concentrated it upon +Pinkerton; and Harkness’s election was a walk-over.</p> +<p>Within twenty-four hours after the Richardses had received their +cheques their consciences were quieting down, discouraged; the old couple +were learning to reconcile themselves to the sin which they had committed. +But they were to learn, now, that a sin takes on new and real terrors +when there seems a chance that it is going to be found out. This +gives it a fresh and most substantial and important aspect. At +church the morning sermon was of the usual pattern; it was the same +old things said in the same old way; they had heard them a thousand +times and found them innocuous, next to meaningless, and easy to sleep +under; but now it was different: the sermon seemed to bristle with accusations; +it seemed aimed straight and specially at people who were concealing +deadly sins. After church they got away from the mob of congratulators +as soon as they could, and hurried homeward, chilled to the bone at +they did not know what—vague, shadowy, indefinite fears. +And by chance they caught a glimpse of Mr. Burgess as he turned a corner. +He paid no attention to their nod of recognition! He hadn’t +seen it; but they did not know that. What could his conduct mean? +It might mean—it might—mean—oh, a dozen dreadful things. +Was it possible that he knew that Richards could have cleared him of +guilt in that bygone time, and had been silently waiting for a chance +to even up accounts? At home, in their distress they got to imagining +that their servant might have been in the next room listening when Richards +revealed the secret to his wife that he knew of Burgess’s innocence; +next Richards began to imagine that he had heard the swish of a gown +in there at that time; next, he was sure he <i>had</i> heard it. +They would call Sarah in, on a pretext, and watch her face; if she had +been betraying them to Mr. Burgess, it would show in her manner. +They asked her some questions—questions which were so random and +incoherent and seemingly purposeless that the girl felt sure that the +old people’s minds had been affected by their sudden good fortune; +the sharp and watchful gaze which they bent upon her frightened her, +and that completed the business. She blushed, she became nervous +and confused, and to the old people these were plain signs of guilt—guilt +of some fearful sort or other—without doubt she was a spy and +a traitor. When they were alone again they began to piece many +unrelated things together and get horrible results out of the combination. +When things had got about to the worst Richards was delivered of a sudden +gasp and his wife asked:</p> +<p>“Oh, what is it?—what is it?”</p> +<p>“The note—Burgess’s note! Its language was +sarcastic, I see it now.” He quoted: “‘At bottom +you cannot respect me, <i>knowing</i>, as you do, of <i>that matter +of</i> which I am accused’—oh, it is perfectly plain, now, +God help me! He knows that I know! You see the ingenuity +of the phrasing. It was a trap—and like a fool, I walked +into it. And Mary—!”</p> +<p>“Oh, it is dreadful—I know what you are going to say—he +didn’t return your transcript of the pretended test-remark.”</p> +<p>“No—kept it to destroy us with. Mary, he has exposed +us to some already. I know it—I know it well. I saw +it in a dozen faces after church. Ah, he wouldn’t answer +our nod of recognition—he knew what he had been doing!”</p> +<p>In the night the doctor was called. The news went around in +the morning that the old couple were rather seriously ill—prostrated +by the exhausting excitement growing out of their great windfall, the +congratulations, and the late hours, the doctor said. The town +was sincerely distressed; for these old people were about all it had +left to be proud of, now.</p> +<p>Two days later the news was worse. The old couple were delirious, +and were doing strange things. By witness of the nurses, Richards +had exhibited cheques—for $8,500? No—for an amazing +sum—$38,500! What could be the explanation of this gigantic +piece of luck?</p> +<p>The following day the nurses had more news—and wonderful. +They had concluded to hide the cheques, lest harm come to them; but +when they searched they were gone from under the patient’s pillow—vanished +away. The patient said:</p> +<p>“Let the pillow alone; what do you want?”</p> +<p>“We thought it best that the cheques—”</p> +<p>“You will never see them again—they are destroyed. +They came from Satan. I saw the hell-brand on them, and I knew +they were sent to betray me to sin.” Then he fell to gabbling +strange and dreadful things which were not clearly understandable, and +which the doctor admonished them to keep to themselves.</p> +<p>Richards was right; the cheques were never seen again.</p> +<p>A nurse must have talked in her sleep, for within two days the forbidden +gabblings were the property of the town; and they were of a surprising +sort. They seemed to indicate that Richards had been a claimant +for the sack himself, and that Burgess had concealed that fact and then +maliciously betrayed it.</p> +<p>Burgess was taxed with this and stoutly denied it. And he said +it was not fair to attach weight to the chatter of a sick old man who +was out of his mind. Still, suspicion was in the air, and there +was much talk.</p> +<p>After a day or two it was reported that Mrs. Richards’s delirious +deliveries were getting to be duplicates of her husband’s. +Suspicion flamed up into conviction, now, and the town’s pride +in the purity of its one undiscredited important citizen began to dim +down and flicker toward extinction.</p> +<p>Six days passed, then came more news. The old couple were dying. +Richards’s mind cleared in his latest hour, and he sent for Burgess. +Burgess said:</p> +<p>“Let the room be cleared. I think he wishes to say something +in privacy.”</p> +<p>“No!” said Richards; “I want witnesses. I +want you all to hear my confession, so that I may die a man, and not +a dog. I was clean—artificially—like the rest; and +like the rest I fell when temptation came. I signed a lie, and +claimed the miserable sack. Mr. Burgess remembered that I had +done him a service, and in gratitude (and ignorance) he suppressed my +claim and saved me. You know the thing that was charged against +Burgess years ago. My testimony, and mine alone, could have cleared +him, and I was a coward and left him to suffer disgrace—”</p> +<p>“No—no—Mr. Richards, you—”</p> +<p>“My servant betrayed my secret to him—”</p> +<p>“No one has betrayed anything to me—”</p> +<p>—“And then he did a natural and justifiable thing; he +repented of the saving kindness which he had done me, and he <i>exposed</i> +me—as I deserved—”</p> +<p>“Never!—I make oath—”</p> +<p>“Out of my heart I forgive him.”</p> +<p>Burgess’s impassioned protestations fell upon deaf ears; the +dying man passed away without knowing that once more he had done poor +Burgess a wrong. The old wife died that night.</p> +<p>The last of the sacred Nineteen had fallen a prey to the fiendish +sack; the town was stripped of the last rag of its ancient glory. +Its mourning was not showy, but it was deep.</p> +<p>By act of the Legislature—upon prayer and petition—Hadleyburg +was allowed to change its name to (never mind what—I will not +give it away), and leave one word out of the motto that for many generations +had graced the town’s official seal.</p> +<p>It is an honest town once more, and the man will have to rise early +that catches it napping again.</p> + + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1213 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/1213-h/images/cover.jpg b/1213-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..636cd00 --- /dev/null +++ b/1213-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a5c370c --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #1213 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1213) diff --git a/old/1213-0.txt b/old/1213-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..38c97db --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1213-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2093 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1213 *** + + + + +THE MAN THAT CORRUPTED HADLEYBURG + + +I. + + +It was many years ago. Hadleyburg was the most honest and upright town +in all the region round about. It had kept that reputation unsmirched +during three generations, and was prouder of it than of any other of its +possessions. It was so proud of it, and so anxious to insure its +perpetuation, that it began to teach the principles of honest dealing to +its babies in the cradle, and made the like teachings the staple of +their culture thenceforward through all the years devoted to their +education. Also, throughout the formative years temptations were kept +out of the way of the young people, so that their honesty could have +every chance to harden and solidify, and become a part of their very +bone. The neighbouring towns were jealous of this honourable supremacy, +and affected to sneer at Hadleyburg’s pride in it and call it vanity; +but all the same they were obliged to acknowledge that Hadleyburg was in +reality an incorruptible town; and if pressed they would also +acknowledge that the mere fact that a young man hailed from Hadleyburg +was all the recommendation he needed when he went forth from his natal +town to seek for responsible employment. + +But at last, in the drift of time, Hadleyburg had the ill luck to offend +a passing stranger--possibly without knowing it, certainly without +caring, for Hadleyburg was sufficient unto itself, and cared not a rap +for strangers or their opinions. Still, it would have been well to make +an exception in this one’s case, for he was a bitter man, and +revengeful. All through his wanderings during a whole year he kept his +injury in mind, and gave all his leisure moments to trying to invent a +compensating satisfaction for it. He contrived many plans, and all of +them were good, but none of them was quite sweeping enough: the poorest +of them would hurt a great many individuals, but what he wanted was a +plan which would comprehend the entire town, and not let so much as one +person escape unhurt. At last he had a fortunate idea, and when it fell +into his brain it lit up his whole head with an evil joy. He began to +form a plan at once, saying to himself “That is the thing to do--I will +corrupt the town.” + +Six months later he went to Hadleyburg, and arrived in a buggy at the +house of the old cashier of the bank about ten at night. He got a sack +out of the buggy, shouldered it, and staggered with it through the +cottage yard, and knocked at the door. A woman’s voice said “Come in,” +and he entered, and set his sack behind the stove in the parlour, saying +politely to the old lady who sat reading the “Missionary Herald” by the +lamp: + +“Pray keep your seat, madam, I will not disturb you. There--now it is +pretty well concealed; one would hardly know it was there. Can I see +your husband a moment, madam?” + +No, he was gone to Brixton, and might not return before morning. + +“Very well, madam, it is no matter. I merely wanted to leave that sack +in his care, to be delivered to the rightful owner when he shall be +found. I am a stranger; he does not know me; I am merely passing through +the town to-night to discharge a matter which has been long in my mind. +My errand is now completed, and I go pleased and a little proud, and you +will never see me again. There is a paper attached to the sack which +will explain everything. Good-night, madam.” + +The old lady was afraid of the mysterious big stranger, and was glad to +see him go. But her curiosity was roused, and she went straight to the +sack and brought away the paper. It began as follows: + + “TO BE PUBLISHED, or, the right man sought out by private + inquiry--either will answer. This sack contains gold coin weighing a + hundred and sixty pounds four ounces--” + +“Mercy on us, and the door not locked!” + +Mrs. Richards flew to it all in a tremble and locked it, then pulled down +the window-shades and stood frightened, worried, and wondering if there +was anything else she could do toward making herself and the money more +safe. She listened awhile for burglars, then surrendered to curiosity, +and went back to the lamp and finished reading the paper: + + “I am a foreigner, and am presently going back to my own country, to + remain there permanently. I am grateful to America for what I have + received at her hands during my long stay under her flag; and to one + of her citizens--a citizen of Hadleyburg--I am especially grateful for + a great kindness done me a year or two ago. Two great kindnesses in + fact. I will explain. I was a gambler. I say I WAS. I was a ruined + gambler. I arrived in this village at night, hungry and without a + penny. I asked for help--in the dark; I was ashamed to beg in the + light. I begged of the right man. He gave me twenty dollars--that is + to say, he gave me life, as I considered it. He also gave me fortune; + for out of that money I have made myself rich at the gaming-table. And + finally, a remark which he made to me has remained with me to this + day, and has at last conquered me; and in conquering has saved the + remnant of my morals: I shall gamble no more. Now I have no idea who + that man was, but I want him found, and I want him to have this money, + to give away, throw away, or keep, as he pleases. It is merely my way + of testifying my gratitude to him. If I could stay, I would find him + myself; but no matter, he will be found. This is an honest town, an + incorruptible town, and I know I can trust it without fear. This man + can be identified by the remark which he made to me; I feel persuaded + that he will remember it. + + “And now my plan is this: If you prefer to conduct the inquiry + privately, do so. Tell the contents of this present writing to any + one who is likely to be the right man. If he shall answer, ‘I am the + man; the remark I made was so-and-so,’ apply the test--to wit: open + the sack, and in it you will find a sealed envelope containing that + remark. If the remark mentioned by the candidate tallies with it, + give him the money, and ask no further questions, for he is certainly + the right man. + + “But if you shall prefer a public inquiry, then publish this present + writing in the local paper--with these instructions added, to wit: + Thirty days from now, let the candidate appear at the town-hall at + eight in the evening (Friday), and hand his remark, in a sealed + envelope, to the Rev. Mr. Burgess (if he will be kind enough to act); + and let Mr. Burgess there and then destroy the seals of the sack, open + it, and see if the remark is correct: if correct, let the money be + delivered, with my sincere gratitude, to my benefactor thus + identified.” + +Mrs. Richards sat down, gently quivering with excitement, and was soon +lost in thinkings--after this pattern: “What a strange thing it is! +... And what a fortune for that kind man who set his bread afloat upon +the waters!... If it had only been my husband that did it!--for we are +so poor, so old and poor!...” Then, with a sigh--“But it was not my +Edward; no, it was not he that gave a stranger twenty dollars. It is a +pity too; I see it now...” Then, with a shudder--“But it is _gamblers_’ +money! the wages of sin; we couldn’t take it; we couldn’t touch it. +I don’t like to be near it; it seems a defilement.” She moved to a +farther chair... “I wish Edward would come, and take it to the bank; a +burglar might come at any moment; it is dreadful to be here all alone +with it.” + +At eleven Mr. Richards arrived, and while his wife was saying “I am +_so_ glad you’ve come!” he was saying, “I am so tired--tired clear out; +it is dreadful to be poor, and have to make these dismal journeys at my +time of life. Always at the grind, grind, grind, on a salary--another +man’s slave, and he sitting at home in his slippers, rich and +comfortable.” + +“I am so sorry for you, Edward, you know that; but be comforted; we +have our livelihood; we have our good name--” + +“Yes, Mary, and that is everything. Don’t mind my talk--it’s just a +moment’s irritation and doesn’t mean anything. Kiss me--there, it’s +all gone now, and I am not complaining any more. What have you been +getting? What’s in the sack?” + +Then his wife told him the great secret. It dazed him for a moment; +then he said: + +“It weighs a hundred and sixty pounds? Why, Mary, it’s for-ty thou-sand +dollars--think of it--a whole fortune! Not ten men in this village are +worth that much. Give me the paper.” + +He skimmed through it and said: + +“Isn’t it an adventure! Why, it’s a romance; it’s like the impossible +things one reads about in books, and never sees in life.” He was well +stirred up now; cheerful, even gleeful. He tapped his old wife on the +cheek, and said humorously, “Why, we’re rich, Mary, rich; all we’ve got +to do is to bury the money and burn the papers. If the gambler ever +comes to inquire, we’ll merely look coldly upon him and say: ‘What is +this nonsense you are talking? We have never heard of you and your sack +of gold before;’ and then he would look foolish, and--” + +“And in the meantime, while you are running on with your jokes, the +money is still here, and it is fast getting along toward burglar-time.” + +“True. Very well, what shall we do--make the inquiry private? No, +not that; it would spoil the romance. The public method is better. +Think what a noise it will make! And it will make all the other towns +jealous; for no stranger would trust such a thing to any town but +Hadleyburg, and they know it. It’s a great card for us. I must get to +the printing-office now, or I shall be too late.” + +“But stop--stop--don’t leave me here alone with it, Edward!” + +But he was gone. For only a little while, however. Not far from his +own house he met the editor--proprietor of the paper, and gave him the +document, and said “Here is a good thing for you, Cox--put it in.” + +“It may be too late, Mr. Richards, but I’ll see.” + +At home again, he and his wife sat down to talk the charming mystery +over; they were in no condition for sleep. The first question was, Who +could the citizen have been who gave the stranger the twenty dollars? +It seemed a simple one; both answered it in the same breath-- + +“Barclay Goodson.” + +“Yes,” said Richards, “he could have done it, and it would have been +like him, but there’s not another in the town.” + +“Everybody will grant that, Edward--grant it privately, anyway. +For six months, now, the village has been its own proper self once +more--honest, narrow, self-righteous, and stingy.” + +“It is what he always called it, to the day of his death--said it right +out publicly, too.” + +“Yes, and he was hated for it.” + +“Oh, of course; but he didn’t care. I reckon he was the best-hated man +among us, except the Reverend Burgess.” + +“Well, Burgess deserves it--he will never get another congregation +here. Mean as the town is, it knows how to estimate _him_. Edward, +doesn’t it seem odd that the stranger should appoint Burgess to deliver +the money?” + +“Well, yes--it does. That is--that is--” + +“Why so much that-_is_-ing? Would _you_ select him?” + +“Mary, maybe the stranger knows him better than this village does.” + +“Much _that_ would help Burgess!” + +The husband seemed perplexed for an answer; the wife kept a steady eye +upon him, and waited. Finally Richards said, with the hesitancy of one +who is making a statement which is likely to encounter doubt, + +“Mary, Burgess is not a bad man.” + +His wife was certainly surprised. + +“Nonsense!” she exclaimed. + +“He is not a bad man. I know. The whole of his unpopularity had its +foundation in that one thing--the thing that made so much noise.” + +“That ‘one thing,’ indeed! As if that ‘one thing’ wasn’t enough, all by +itself.” + +“Plenty. Plenty. Only he wasn’t guilty of it.” + +“How you talk! Not guilty of it! Everybody knows he _was_ guilty.” + +“Mary, I give you my word--he was innocent.” + +“I can’t believe it and I don’t. How do you know?” + +“It is a confession. I am ashamed, but I will make it. I was the only +man who knew he was innocent. I could have saved him, and--and--well, +you know how the town was wrought up--I hadn’t the pluck to do it. It +would have turned everybody against me. I felt mean, ever so mean; but +I didn’t dare; I hadn’t the manliness to face that.” + +Mary looked troubled, and for a while was silent. Then she said +stammeringly: + +“I--I don’t think it would have done for you to--to--One +mustn’t--er--public opinion--one has to be so careful--so--” It was +a difficult road, and she got mired; but after a little she got +started again. “It was a great pity, but--Why, we couldn’t afford it, +Edward--we couldn’t indeed. Oh, I wouldn’t have had you do it for +anything!” + +“It would have lost us the good-will of so many people, Mary; and +then--and then--” + +“What troubles me now is, what _he_ thinks of us, Edward.” + +“He? _He_ doesn’t suspect that I could have saved him.” + +“Oh,” exclaimed the wife, in a tone of relief, “I am glad of that. As +long as he doesn’t know that you could have saved him, he--he--well +that makes it a great deal better. Why, I might have known he didn’t +know, because he is always trying to be friendly with us, as little +encouragement as we give him. More than once people have twitted me +with it. There’s the Wilsons, and the Wilcoxes, and the Harknesses, +they take a mean pleasure in saying ‘_Your friend_ Burgess,’ because +they know it pesters me. I wish he wouldn’t persist in liking us so; I +can’t think why he keeps it up.” + +“I can explain it. It’s another confession. When the thing was new and +hot, and the town made a plan to ride him on a rail, my conscience +hurt me so that I couldn’t stand it, and I went privately and gave him +notice, and he got out of the town and stayed out till it was safe to +come back.” + +“Edward! If the town had found it out--” + +“_Don’t_! It scares me yet, to think of it. I repented of it the minute +it was done; and I was even afraid to tell you lest your face might +betray it to somebody. I didn’t sleep any that night, for worrying. But +after a few days I saw that no one was going to suspect me, and after +that I got to feeling glad I did it. And I feel glad yet, Mary--glad +through and through.” + +“So do I, now, for it would have been a dreadful way to treat him. +Yes, I’m glad; for really you did owe him that, you know. But, Edward, +suppose it should come out yet, some day!” + +“It won’t.” + +“Why?” + +“Because everybody thinks it was Goodson.” + +“Of course they would!” + +“Certainly. And of course _he_ didn’t care. They persuaded poor old +Sawlsberry to go and charge it on him, and he went blustering over +there and did it. Goodson looked him over, like as if he was hunting +for a place on him that he could despise the most; then he says, ‘So +you are the Committee of Inquiry, are you?’ Sawlsberry said that was +about what he was. ‘H’m. Do they require particulars, or do you reckon +a kind of a _general_ answer will do?’ ‘If they require particulars, +I will come back, Mr. Goodson; I will take the general answer first.’ +‘Very well, then, tell them to go to hell--I reckon that’s general +enough. And I’ll give you some advice, Sawlsberry; when you come back +for the particulars, fetch a basket to carry what is left of yourself +home in.’” + +“Just like Goodson; it’s got all the marks. He had only one vanity; he +thought he could give advice better than any other person.” + +“It settled the business, and saved us, Mary. The subject was dropped.” + +“Bless you, I’m not doubting _that_.” + +Then they took up the gold-sack mystery again, with strong interest. +Soon the conversation began to suffer breaks--interruptions caused by +absorbed thinkings. The breaks grew more and more frequent. At last +Richards lost himself wholly in thought. He sat long, gazing vacantly +at the floor, and by-and-by he began to punctuate his thoughts with +little nervous movements of his hands that seemed to indicate vexation. +Meantime his wife too had relapsed into a thoughtful silence, and +her movements were beginning to show a troubled discomfort. Finally +Richards got up and strode aimlessly about the room, ploughing his +hands through his hair, much as a somnambulist might do who was having +a bad dream. Then he seemed to arrive at a definite purpose; and +without a word he put on his hat and passed quickly out of the house. +His wife sat brooding, with a drawn face, and did not seem to be aware +that she was alone. Now and then she murmured, “Lead us not into t ... +but--but--we are so poor, so poor!... Lead us not into.... Ah, who +would be hurt by it?--and no one would ever know.... Lead us....” The +voice died out in mumblings. After a little she glanced up and muttered +in a half-frightened, half-glad way-- + +“He is gone! But, oh dear, he may be too late--too late.... Maybe +not--maybe there is still time.” She rose and stood thinking, nervously +clasping and unclasping her hands. A slight shudder shook her frame, +and she said, out of a dry throat, “God forgive me--it’s awful to think +such things--but.... Lord, how we are made--how strangely we are made!” + +She turned the light low, and slipped stealthily over and knelt down by +the sack and felt of its ridgy sides with her hands, and fondled them +lovingly; and there was a gloating light in her poor old eyes. She fell +into fits of absence; and came half out of them at times to mutter “If +we had only waited!--oh, if we had only waited a little, and not been +in such a hurry!” + +Meantime Cox had gone home from his office and told his wife all about +the strange thing that had happened, and they had talked it over +eagerly, and guessed that the late Goodson was the only man in the +town who could have helped a suffering stranger with so noble a sum as +twenty dollars. Then there was a pause, and the two became thoughtful +and silent. And by- and-by nervous and fidgety. At last the wife said, +as if to herself, + +“Nobody knows this secret but the Richardses ... and us ... nobody.” + +The husband came out of his thinkings with a slight start, and gazed +wistfully at his wife, whose face was become very pale; then he +hesitatingly rose, and glanced furtively at his hat, then at his +wife--a sort of mute inquiry. Mrs. Cox swallowed once or twice, with +her hand at her throat, then in place of speech she nodded her head. In +a moment she was alone, and mumbling to herself. + +And now Richards and Cox were hurrying through the deserted streets, +from opposite directions. They met, panting, at the foot of the +printing-office stairs; by the night-light there they read each other’s +face. Cox whispered: + +“Nobody knows about this but us?” + +The whispered answer was: + +“Not a soul--on honour, not a soul!” + +“If it isn’t too late to--” + +The men were starting up-stairs; at this moment they were overtaken by +a boy, and Cox asked, + +“Is that you, Johnny?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“You needn’t ship the early mail--nor _any_ mail; wait till I tell you.” + +“It’s already gone, sir.” + +“_Gone_?” It had the sound of an unspeakable disappointment in it. + +“Yes, sir. Time-table for Brixton and all the towns beyond changed to- +day, sir--had to get the papers in twenty minutes earlier than common. +I had to rush; if I had been two minutes later--” + +The men turned and walked slowly away, not waiting to hear the rest. +Neither of them spoke during ten minutes; then Cox said, in a vexed +tone, + +“What possessed you to be in such a hurry, _I_ can’t make out.” + +The answer was humble enough: + +“I see it now, but somehow I never thought, you know, until it was too +late. But the next time--” + +“Next time be hanged! It won’t come in a thousand years.” + +Then the friends separated without a good-night, and dragged themselves +home with the gait of mortally stricken men. At their homes their wives +sprang up with an eager “Well?”--then saw the answer with their eyes +and sank down sorrowing, without waiting for it to come in words. In +both houses a discussion followed of a heated sort--a new thing; there +had been discussions before, but not heated ones, not ungentle ones. +The discussions to-night were a sort of seeming plagiarisms of each +other. Mrs. Richards said: + +“If you had only waited, Edward--if you had only stopped to think; but +no, you must run straight to the printing-office and spread it all over +the world.” + +“It _said_ publish it.” + +“That is nothing; it also said do it privately, if you liked. There, +now--is that true, or not?” + +“Why, yes--yes, it is true; but when I thought what a stir it would +make, and what a compliment it was to Hadleyburg that a stranger should +trust it so--” + +“Oh, certainly, I know all that; but if you had only stopped to think, +you would have seen that you _couldn’t_ find the right man, because he +is in his grave, and hasn’t left chick nor child nor relation behind +him; and as long as the money went to somebody that awfully needed it, +and nobody would be hurt by it, and--and--” + +She broke down, crying. Her husband tried to think of some comforting +thing to say, and presently came out with this: + +“But after all, Mary, it must be for the best--it must be; we know +that. And we must remember that it was so ordered--” + +“Ordered! Oh, everything’s _ordered_, when a person has to find some +way out when he has been stupid. Just the same, it was _ordered_ +that the money should come to us in this special way, and it was you +that must take it on yourself to go meddling with the designs of +Providence--and who gave you the right? It was wicked, that is what it +was--just blasphemous presumption, and no more becoming to a meek and +humble professor of--” + +“But, Mary, you know how we have been trained all our lives long, like +the whole village, till it is absolutely second nature to us to stop +not a single moment to think when there’s an honest thing to be done--” + +“Oh, I know it, I know it--it’s been one everlasting training and +training and training in honesty--honesty shielded, from the very +cradle, against every possible temptation, and so it’s _artificial_ +honesty, and weak as water when temptation comes, as we have seen +this night. God knows I never had shade nor shadow of a doubt of my +petrified and indestructible honesty until now--and now, under the very +first big and real temptation, I--Edward, it is my belief that this +town’s honesty is as rotten as mine is; as rotten as yours. It is a +mean town, a hard, stingy town, and hasn’t a virtue in the world but +this honesty it is so celebrated for and so conceited about; and so +help me, I do believe that if ever the day comes that its honesty falls +under great temptation, its grand reputation will go to ruin like a +house of cards. There, now, I’ve made confession, and I feel better; I +am a humbug, and I’ve been one all my life, without knowing it. Let no +man call me honest again--I will not have it.” + +“I--Well, Mary, I feel a good deal as you do: I certainly do. It seems +strange, too, so strange. I never could have believed it--never.” + +A long silence followed; both were sunk in thought. At last the wife +looked up and said: + +“I know what you are thinking, Edward.” + +Richards had the embarrassed look of a person who is caught. + +“I am ashamed to confess it, Mary, but--” + +“It’s no matter, Edward, I was thinking the same question myself.” + +“I hope so. State it.” + +“You were thinking, if a body could only guess out _what the remark +was_ that Goodson made to the stranger.” + +“It’s perfectly true. I feel guilty and ashamed. And you?” + +“I’m past it. Let us make a pallet here; we’ve got to stand watch till +the bank vault opens in the morning and admits the sack... Oh dear, oh +dear--if we hadn’t made the mistake!” + +The pallet was made, and Mary said: + +“The open sesame--what could it have been? I do wonder what that remark +could have been. But come; we will get to bed now.” + +“And sleep?” + +“No; think.” + +“Yes; think.” + +By this time the Coxes too had completed their spat and their +reconciliation, and were turning in--to think, to think, and toss, and +fret, and worry over what the remark could possibly have been which +Goodson made to the stranded derelict; that golden remark; that remark +worth forty thousand dollars, cash. + +The reason that the village telegraph-office was open later than +usual that night was this: The foreman of Cox’s paper was the local +representative of the Associated Press. One might say its honorary +representative, for it wasn’t four times a year that he could furnish +thirty words that would be accepted. But this time it was different. +His despatch stating what he had caught got an instant answer: + + “Send the whole thing--all the details--twelve hundred words.” + +A colossal order! The foreman filled the bill; and he was the proudest +man in the State. By breakfast-time the next morning the name of +Hadleyburg the Incorruptible was on every lip in America, from Montreal +to the Gulf, from the glaciers of Alaska to the orange-groves of +Florida; and millions and millions of people were discussing the +stranger and his money-sack, and wondering if the right man would +be found, and hoping some more news about the matter would come +soon--right away. + + + + +II. + + +Hadleyburg village woke up world-celebrated--astonished--happy--vain. +Vain beyond imagination. Its nineteen principal citizens and their +wives went about shaking hands with each other, and beaming, and +smiling, and congratulating, and saying _this_ thing adds a new word to +the dictionary--_Hadleyburg_, synonym for _incorruptible_--destined to +live in dictionaries for ever! And the minor and unimportant citizens +and their wives went around acting in much the same way. Everybody +ran to the bank to see the gold-sack; and before noon grieved and +envious crowds began to flock in from Brixton and all neighbouring +towns; and that afternoon and next day reporters began to arrive from +everywhere to verify the sack and its history and write the whole +thing up anew, and make dashing free-hand pictures of the sack, and +of Richards’s house, and the bank, and the Presbyterian church, and +the Baptist church, and the public square, and the town-hall where the +test would be applied and the money delivered; and damnable portraits +of the Richardses, and Pinkerton the banker, and Cox, and the foreman, +and Reverend Burgess, and the postmaster--and even of Jack Halliday, +who was the loafing, good-natured, no-account, irreverent fisherman, +hunter, boys’ friend, stray-dogs’ friend, typical “Sam Lawson” of the +town. The little mean, smirking, oily Pinkerton showed the sack to all +comers, and rubbed his sleek palms together pleasantly, and enlarged +upon the town’s fine old reputation for honesty and upon this wonderful +endorsement of it, and hoped and believed that the example would now +spread far and wide over the American world, and be epoch-making in the +matter of moral regeneration. And so on, and so on. + +By the end of a week things had quieted down again; the wild +intoxication of pride and joy had sobered to a soft, sweet, silent +delight--a sort of deep, nameless, unutterable content. All faces bore +a look of peaceful, holy happiness. + +Then a change came. It was a gradual change; so gradual that its +beginnings were hardly noticed; maybe were not noticed at all, except +by Jack Halliday, who always noticed everything; and always made fun of +it, too, no matter what it was. He began to throw out chaffing remarks +about people not looking quite so happy as they did a day or two ago; +and next he claimed that the new aspect was deepening to positive +sadness; next, that it was taking on a sick look; and finally he said +that everybody was become so moody, thoughtful, and absent-minded that +he could rob the meanest man in town of a cent out of the bottom of his +breeches pocket and not disturb his reverie. + +At this stage--or at about this stage--a saying like this was dropped +at bedtime--with a sigh, usually--by the head of each of the nineteen +principal households: + +“Ah, what _could_ have been the remark that Goodson made?” + +And straightway--with a shudder--came this, from the man’s wife: + +“Oh, _don’t_! What horrible thing are you mulling in your mind? Put it +away from you, for God’s sake!” + +But that question was wrung from those men again the next night--and +got the same retort. But weaker. + +And the third night the men uttered the question yet again--with +anguish, and absently. This time--and the following night--the wives +fidgeted feebly, and tried to say something. But didn’t. + +And the night after that they found their tongues and +responded--longingly: + +“Oh, if we _could_ only guess!” + +Halliday’s comments grew daily more and more sparklingly disagreeable +and disparaging. He went diligently about, laughing at the town, +individually and in mass. But his laugh was the only one left in the +village: it fell upon a hollow and mournful vacancy and emptiness. Not +even a smile was findable anywhere. Halliday carried a cigar-box around +on a tripod, playing that it was a camera, and halted all passers and +aimed the thing and said “Ready!--now look pleasant, please,” but +not even this capital joke could surprise the dreary faces into any +softening. + +So three weeks passed--one week was left. It was Saturday evening +after supper. Instead of the aforetime Saturday-evening flutter and +bustle and shopping and larking, the streets were empty and desolate. +Richards and his old wife sat apart in their little parlour--miserable +and thinking. This was become their evening habit now: the life-long +habit which had preceded it, of reading, knitting, and contented +chat, or receiving or paying neighbourly calls, was dead and gone and +forgotten, ages ago--two or three weeks ago; nobody talked now, nobody +read, nobody visited--the whole village sat at home, sighing, worrying, +silent. Trying to guess out that remark. + +The postman left a letter. Richards glanced listlessly at the +superscription and the post-mark--unfamiliar, both--and tossed +the letter on the table and resumed his might-have-beens and his +hopeless dull miseries where he had left them off. Two or three hours +later his wife got wearily up and was going away to bed without a +good-night--custom now--but she stopped near the letter and eyed it +awhile with a dead interest, then broke it open, and began to skim it +over. Richards, sitting there with his chair tilted back against the +wall and his chin between his knees, heard something fall. It was his +wife. He sprang to her side, but she cried out: + +“Leave me alone, I am too happy. Read the letter--read it!” + +He did. He devoured it, his brain reeling. The letter was from a +distant State, and it said: + + “I am a stranger to you, but no matter: I have something to tell. I + have just arrived home from Mexico, and learned about that episode. Of + course you do not know who made that remark, but I know, and I am the + only person living who does know. It was GOODSON. I knew him well, + many years ago. I passed through your village that very night, and + was his guest till the midnight train came along. I overheard him + make that remark to the stranger in the dark--it was in Hale Alley. He + and I talked of it the rest of the way home, and while smoking in his + house. He mentioned many of your villagers in the course of his + talk--most of them in a very uncomplimentary way, but two or three + favourably: among these latter yourself. I say ‘favourably’--nothing + stronger. I remember his saying he did not actually LIKE any person + in the town--not one; but that you--I THINK he said you--am almost + sure--had done him a very great service once, possibly without knowing + the full value of it, and he wished he had a fortune, he would leave + it to you when he died, and a curse apiece for the rest of the + citizens. Now, then, if it was you that did him that service, you are + his legitimate heir, and entitled to the sack of gold. I know that I + can trust to your honour and honesty, for in a citizen of Hadleyburg + these virtues are an unfailing inheritance, and so I am going to + reveal to you the remark, well satisfied that if you are not the right + man you will seek and find the right one and see that poor Goodson’s + debt of gratitude for the service referred to is paid. This is the + remark ‘YOU ARE FAR FROM BEING A BAD MAN: GO, AND REFORM.’ + + “HOWARD L. STEPHENSON.” + +“Oh, Edward, the money is ours, and I am so grateful, _oh_, so +grateful,--kiss me, dear, it’s for ever since we kissed--and we needed +it so--the money--and now you are free of Pinkerton and his bank, and +nobody’s slave any more; it seems to me I could fly for joy.” + +It was a happy half-hour that the couple spent there on the settee +caressing each other; it was the old days come again--days that had +begun with their courtship and lasted without a break till the stranger +brought the deadly money. By-and-by the wife said: + +“Oh, Edward, how lucky it was you did him that grand service, poor +Goodson! I never liked him, but I love him now. And it was fine and +beautiful of you never to mention it or brag about it.” Then, with a +touch of reproach, “But you ought to have told _me_, Edward, you ought +to have told your wife, you know.” + +“Well, I--er--well, Mary, you see--” + +“Now stop hemming and hawing, and tell me about it, Edward. I always +loved you, and now I’m proud of you. Everybody believes there was only +one good generous soul in this village, and now it turns out that +you--Edward, why don’t you tell me?” + +“Well--er--er--Why, Mary, I can’t!” + +“You _can’t_? _Why_ can’t you?” + +“You see, he--well, he--he made me promise I wouldn’t.” + +The wife looked him over, and said, very slowly: + +“Made--you--promise? Edward, what do you tell me that for?” + +“Mary, do you think I would lie?” + +She was troubled and silent for a moment, then she laid her hand within +his and said: + +“No ... no. We have wandered far enough from our bearings--God spare us +that! In all your life you have never uttered a lie. But now--now that +the foundations of things seem to be crumbling from under us, we--we--” +She lost her voice for a moment, then said, brokenly, “Lead us not into +temptation... I think you made the promise, Edward. Let it rest so. +Let us keep away from that ground. Now--that is all gone by; let us he +happy again; it is no time for clouds.” + +Edward found it something of an effort to comply, for his mind kept +wandering--trying to remember what the service was that he had done +Goodson. + +The couple lay awake the most of the night, Mary happy and busy, +Edward busy, but not so happy. Mary was planning what she would do +with the money. Edward was trying to recall that service. At first his +conscience was sore on account of the lie he had told Mary--if it was a +lie. After much reflection--suppose it _was_ a lie? What then? Was it +such a great matter? Aren’t we always _acting_ lies? Then why not tell +them? Look at Mary--look what she had done. While he was hurrying off +on his honest errand, what was she doing? Lamenting because the papers +hadn’t been destroyed and the money kept. Is theft better than lying? + +_That_ point lost its sting--the lie dropped into the background +and left comfort behind it. The next point came to the front: _had_ +he rendered that service? Well, here was Goodson’s own evidence as +reported in Stephenson’s letter; there could be no better evidence +than that--it was even _proof_ that he had rendered it. Of course. So +that point was settled... No, not quite. He recalled with a wince that +this unknown Mr. Stephenson was just a trifle unsure as to whether the +performer of it was Richards or some other--and, oh dear, he had put +Richards on his honour! He must himself decide whither that money must +go--and Mr. Stephenson was not doubting that if he was the wrong man he +would go honourably and find the right one. Oh, it was odious to put a +man in such a situation--ah, why couldn’t Stephenson have left out that +doubt? What did he want to intrude that for? + +Further reflection. How did it happen that _Richards’s_ name remained +in Stephenson’s mind as indicating the right man, and not some other +man’s name? That looked good. Yes, that looked very good. In fact it +went on looking better and better, straight along--until by-and-by +it grew into positive _proof_. And then Richards put the matter at +once out of his mind, for he had a private instinct that a proof once +established is better left so. + +He was feeling reasonably comfortable now, but there was still one +other detail that kept pushing itself on his notice: of course he had +done that service--that was settled; but what _was_ that service? +He must recall it--he would not go to sleep till he had recalled +it; it would make his peace of mind perfect. And so he thought and +thought. He thought of a dozen things--possible services, even +probable services--but none of them seemed adequate, none of them +seemed large enough, none of them seemed worth the money--worth the +fortune Goodson had wished he could leave in his will. And besides, he +couldn’t remember having done them, anyway. Now, then--now, then--what +_kind_ of a service would it be that would make a man so inordinately +grateful? Ah--the saving of his soul! That must be it. Yes, he could +remember, now, how he once set himself the task of converting Goodson, +and laboured at it as much as--he was going to say three months; but +upon closer examination it shrunk to a month, then to a week, then to +a day, then to nothing. Yes, he remembered now, and with unwelcome +vividness, that Goodson had told him to go to thunder and mind his own +business--_he_ wasn’t hankering to follow Hadleyburg to heaven! + +So that solution was a failure--he hadn’t saved Goodson’s soul. +Richards was discouraged. Then after a little came another idea: had +he saved Goodson’s property? No, that wouldn’t do--he hadn’t any. His +life? That is it! Of course. Why, he might have thought of it before. +This time he was on the right track, sure. His imagination-mill was +hard at work in a minute, now. + +Thereafter, during a stretch of two exhausting hours, he was busy +saving Goodson’s life. He saved it in all kinds of difficult and +perilous ways. In every case he got it saved satisfactorily up to a +certain point; then, just as he was beginning to get well persuaded +that it had really happened, a troublesome detail would turn up which +made the whole thing impossible. As in the matter of drowning, for +instance. In that case he had swum out and tugged Goodson ashore in an +unconscious state with a great crowd looking on and applauding, but +when he had got it all thought out and was just beginning to remember +all about it, a whole swarm of disqualifying details arrived on the +ground: the town would have known of the circumstance, Mary would have +known of it, it would glare like a limelight in his own memory instead +of being an inconspicuous service which he had possibly rendered +“without knowing its full value.” And at this point he remembered that +he couldn’t swim anyway. + +Ah--_there_ was a point which he had been overlooking from the start: +it had to be a service which he had rendered “possibly without knowing +the full value of it.” Why, really, that ought to be an easy hunt--much +easier than those others. And sure enough, by-and-by he found it. +Goodson, years and years ago, came near marrying a very sweet and +pretty girl, named Nancy Hewitt, but in some way or other the match +had been broken off; the girl died, Goodson remained a bachelor, +and by-and-by became a soured one and a frank despiser of the human +species. Soon after the girl’s death the village found out, or thought +it had found out, that she carried a spoonful of negro blood in her +veins. Richards worked at these details a good while, and in the end +he thought he remembered things concerning them which must have gotten +mislaid in his memory through long neglect. He seemed to dimly remember +that it was _he_ that found out about the negro blood; that it was he +that told the village; that the village told Goodson where they got it; +that he thus saved Goodson from marrying the tainted girl; that he had +done him this great service “without knowing the full value of it,” in +fact without knowing that he _was_ doing it; but that Goodson knew the +value of it, and what a narrow escape he had had, and so went to his +grave grateful to his benefactor and wishing he had a fortune to leave +him. It was all clear and simple, now, and the more he went over it +the more luminous and certain it grew; and at last, when he nestled to +sleep, satisfied and happy, he remembered the whole thing just as if it +had been yesterday. In fact, he dimly remembered Goodson’s _telling_ +him his gratitude once. Meantime Mary had spent six thousand dollars on +a new house for herself and a pair of slippers for her pastor, and then +had fallen peacefully to rest. + +That same Saturday evening the postman had delivered a letter to each +of the other principal citizens--nineteen letters in all. No two of +the envelopes were alike, and no two of the superscriptions were in +the same hand, but the letters inside were just like each other in +every detail but one. They were exact copies of the letter received by +Richards--handwriting and all--and were all signed by Stephenson, but +in place of Richards’s name each receiver’s own name appeared. + +All night long eighteen principal citizens did what their caste-brother +Richards was doing at the same time--they put in their energies trying +to remember what notable service it was that they had unconsciously +done Barclay Goodson. In no case was it a holiday job; still they +succeeded. + +And while they were at this work, which was difficult, their wives put +in the night spending the money, which was easy. During that one night +the nineteen wives spent an average of seven thousand dollars each out +of the forty thousand in the sack--a hundred and thirty-three thousand +altogether. + +Next day there was a surprise for Jack Halliday. He noticed that +the faces of the nineteen chief citizens and their wives bore that +expression of peaceful and holy happiness again. He could not +understand it, neither was he able to invent any remarks about it +that could damage it or disturb it. And so it was his turn to be +dissatisfied with life. His private guesses at the reasons for the +happiness failed in all instances, upon examination. When he met +Mrs. Wilcox and noticed the placid ecstasy in her face, he said to +himself, “Her cat has had kittens”--and went and asked the cook; it +was not so, the cook had detected the happiness, but did not know +the cause. When Halliday found the duplicate ecstasy in the face of +“Shadbelly” Billson (village nickname), he was sure some neighbour of +Billson’s had broken his leg, but inquiry showed that this had not +happened. The subdued ecstasy in Gregory Yates’s face could mean but +one thing--he was a mother-in-law short; it was another mistake. “And +Pinkerton--Pinkerton--he has collected ten cents that he thought he +was going to lose.” And so on, and so on. In some cases the guesses +had to remain in doubt, in the others they proved distinct errors. In +the end Halliday said to himself, “Anyway it roots up that there’s +nineteen Hadleyburg families temporarily in heaven: I don’t know how it +happened; I only know Providence is off duty to-day.” + +An architect and builder from the next State had lately ventured to set +up a small business in this unpromising village, and his sign had now +been hanging out a week. Not a customer yet; he was a discouraged man, +and sorry he had come. But his weather changed suddenly now. First one +and then another chief citizen’s wife said to him privately: + +“Come to my house Monday week--but say nothing about it for the +present. We think of building.” + +He got eleven invitations that day. That night he wrote his daughter +and broke off her match with her student. He said she could marry a +mile higher than that. + +Pinkerton the banker and two or three other well-to-do men planned +country-seats--but waited. That kind don’t count their chickens until +they are hatched. + +The Wilsons devised a grand new thing--a fancy-dress ball. They made +no actual promises, but told all their acquaintanceship in confidence +that they were thinking the matter over and thought they should give +it--“and if we do, you will be invited, of course.” People were +surprised, and said, one to another, “Why, they are crazy, those +poor Wilsons, they can’t afford it.” Several among the nineteen said +privately to their husbands, “It is a good idea, we will keep still +till their cheap thing is over, then _we_ will give one that will make +it sick.” + +The days drifted along, and the bill of future squanderings rose higher +and higher, wilder and wilder, more and more foolish and reckless. It +began to look as if every member of the nineteen would not only spend +his whole forty thousand dollars before receiving-day, but be actually +in debt by the time he got the money. In some cases light-headed people +did not stop with planning to spend, they really spent--on credit. +They bought land, mortgages, farms, speculative stocks, fine clothes, +horses, and various other things, paid down the bonus, and made +themselves liable for the rest--at ten days. Presently the sober second +thought came, and Halliday noticed that a ghastly anxiety was beginning +to show up in a good many faces. Again he was puzzled, and didn’t know +what to make of it. “The Wilcox kittens aren’t dead, for they weren’t +born; nobody’s broken a leg; there’s no shrinkage in mother-in-laws; +_nothing_ has happened--it is an insolvable mystery.” + +There was another puzzled man, too--the Rev. Mr. Burgess. For days, +wherever he went, people seemed to follow him or to be watching out for +him; and if he ever found himself in a retired spot, a member of the +nineteen would be sure to appear, thrust an envelope privately into +his hand, whisper “To be opened at the town-hall Friday evening,” then +vanish away like a guilty thing. He was expecting that there might be +one claimant for the sack--doubtful, however, Goodson being dead--but +it never occurred to him that all this crowd might be claimants. When +the great Friday came at last, he found that he had nineteen envelopes. + + + + +III. + + +The town-hall had never looked finer. The platform at the end of it +was backed by a showy draping of flags; at intervals along the walls +were festoons of flags; the gallery fronts were clothed in flags; the +supporting columns were swathed in flags; all this was to impress the +stranger, for he would be there in considerable force, and in a large +degree he would be connected with the press. The house was full. The +412 fixed seats were occupied; also the 68 extra chairs which had +been packed into the aisles; the steps of the platform were occupied; +some distinguished strangers were given seats on the platform; at the +horseshoe of tables which fenced the front and sides of the platform +sat a strong force of special correspondents who had come from +everywhere. It was the best-dressed house the town had ever produced. +There were some tolerably expensive toilets there, and in several cases +the ladies who wore them had the look of being unfamiliar with that +kind of clothes. At least the town thought they had that look, but the +notion could have arisen from the town’s knowledge of the fact that +these ladies had never inhabited such clothes before. + +The gold-sack stood on a little table at the front of the platform +where all the house could see it. The bulk of the house gazed at it +with a burning interest, a mouth-watering interest, a wistful and +pathetic interest; a minority of nineteen couples gazed at it tenderly, +lovingly, proprietarily, and the male half of this minority kept saying +over to themselves the moving little impromptu speeches of thankfulness +for the audience’s applause and congratulations which they were +presently going to get up and deliver. Every now and then one of these +got a piece of paper out of his vest pocket and privately glanced at it +to refresh his memory. + +Of course there was a buzz of conversation going on--there always +is; but at last, when the Rev. Mr. Burgess rose and laid his hand on +the sack, he could hear his microbes gnaw, the place was so still. +He related the curious history of the sack, then went on to speak +in warm terms of Hadleyburg’s old and well-earned reputation for +spotless honesty, and of the town’s just pride in this reputation. +He said that this reputation was a treasure of priceless value; that +under Providence its value had now become inestimably enhanced, for +the recent episode had spread this fame far and wide, and thus had +focussed the eyes of the American world upon this village, and made its +name for all time, as he hoped and believed, a synonym for commercial +incorruptibility. [Applause.] “And who is to be the guardian of this +noble fame--the community as a whole? No! The responsibility is +individual, not communal. From this day forth each and every one of you +is in his own person its special guardian, and individually responsible +that no harm shall come to it. Do you--does each of you--accept this +great trust? [Tumultuous assent.] Then all is well. Transmit it to +your children and to your children’s children. To-day your purity is +beyond reproach--see to it that it shall remain so. To-day there is not +a person in your community who could be beguiled to touch a penny not +his own--see to it that you abide in this grace. [“We will! we will!”] +This is not the place to make comparisons between ourselves and other +communities--some of them ungracious towards us; they have their ways, +we have ours; let us be content. [Applause.] I am done. Under my hand, +my friends, rests a stranger’s eloquent recognition of what we are; +through him the world will always henceforth know what we are. We do +not know who he is, but in your name I utter your gratitude, and ask +you to raise your voices in indorsement.” + +The house rose in a body and made the walls quake with the thunders +of its thankfulness for the space of a long minute. Then it sat down, +and Mr. Burgess took an envelope out of his pocket. The house held +its breath while he slit the envelope open and took from it a slip of +paper. He read its contents--slowly and impressively--the audience +listening with tranced attention to this magic document, each of whose +words stood for an ingot of gold: + +“‘The remark which I made to the distressed stranger was this: +“You are very far from being a bad man; go, and reform.”’” Then he +continued:--“We shall know in a moment now whether the remark here +quoted corresponds with the one concealed in the sack; and if that +shall prove to be so--and it undoubtedly will--this sack of gold +belongs to a fellow-citizen who will henceforth stand before the nation +as the symbol of the special virtue which has made our town famous +throughout the land--Mr. Billson!” + +The house had gotten itself all ready to burst into the proper tornado +of applause; but instead of doing it, it seemed stricken with a +paralysis; there was a deep hush for a moment or two, then a wave of +whispered murmurs swept the place--of about this tenor: “_Billson_! +oh, come, this is _too_ thin! Twenty dollars to a stranger--or +_anybody_--_Billson_! Tell it to the marines!” And now at this point +the house caught its breath all of a sudden in a new access of +astonishment, for it discovered that whereas in one part of the hall +Deacon Billson was standing up with his head meekly bowed, in another +part of it Lawyer Wilson was doing the same. There was a wondering +silence now for a while. Everybody was puzzled, and nineteen couples +were surprised and indignant. + +Billson and Wilson turned and stared at each other. Billson asked, +bitingly: + +“Why do _you_ rise, Mr. Wilson?” + +“Because I have a right to. Perhaps you will be good enough to explain +to the house why _you_ rise.” + +“With great pleasure. Because I wrote that paper.” + +“It is an impudent falsity! I wrote it myself.” + +It was Burgess’s turn to be paralysed. He stood looking vacantly at +first one of the men and then the other, and did not seem to know what +to do. The house was stupefied. Lawyer Wilson spoke up now, and said: + +“I ask the Chair to read the name signed to that paper.” + +That brought the Chair to itself, and it read out the name: + +“John Wharton _Billson_.” + +“There!” shouted Billson, “what have you got to say for yourself now? +And what kind of apology are you going to make to me and to this +insulted house for the imposture which you have attempted to play here?” + +“No apologies are due, sir; and as for the rest of it, I publicly +charge you with pilfering my note from Mr. Burgess and substituting a +copy of it signed with your own name. There is no other way by which +you could have gotten hold of the test-remark; I alone, of living men, +possessed the secret of its wording.” + +There was likely to be a scandalous state of things if this went +on; everybody noticed with distress that the shorthand scribes were +scribbling like mad; many people were crying “Chair, chair! Order! +order!” Burgess rapped with his gavel, and said: + +“Let us not forget the proprieties due. There has evidently been a +mistake somewhere, but surely that is all. If Mr. Wilson gave me an +envelope--and I remember now that he did--I still have it.” + +He took one out of his pocket, opened it, glanced at it, looked +surprised and worried, and stood silent a few moments. Then he waved +his hand in a wandering and mechanical way, and made an effort or two +to say something, then gave it up, despondently. Several voices cried +out: + +“Read it! read it! What is it?” + +So he began, in a dazed and sleep-walker fashion: + +“‘The remark which I made to the unhappy stranger was this: “You are +far from being a bad man. [The house gazed at him marvelling.] Go, and +reform.”’ [Murmurs: “Amazing! what can this mean?”] This one,” said the +Chair, “is signed Thurlow G. Wilson.” + +“There!” cried Wilson, “I reckon that settles it! I knew perfectly well +my note was purloined.” + +“Purloined!” retorted Billson. “I’ll let you know that neither you nor +any man of your kidney must venture to--” + +The Chair: “Order, gentlemen, order! Take your seats, both of you, +please.” + +They obeyed, shaking their heads and grumbling angrily. The house +was profoundly puzzled; it did not know what to do with this curious +emergency. Presently Thompson got up. Thompson was the hatter. He would +have liked to be a Nineteener; but such was not for him; his stock of +hats was not considerable enough for the position. He said: + +“Mr. Chairman, if I may be permitted to make a suggestion, can both of +these gentlemen be right? I put it to you, sir, can both have happened +to say the very same words to the stranger? It seems to me--” + +The tanner got up and interrupted him. The tanner was a disgruntled +man; he believed himself entitled to be a Nineteener, but he couldn’t +get recognition. It made him a little unpleasant in his ways and +speech. Said he: + +“Sho, _that’s_ not the point! _That_ could happen--twice in a hundred +years--but not the other thing. _Neither_ of them gave the twenty +dollars!” [A ripple of applause.] + +Billson. “I did!” + +Wilson. “I did!” + +Then each accused the other of pilfering. + +The Chair. “Order! Sit down, if you please--both of you. Neither of the +notes has been out of my possession at any moment.” + +A Voice. “Good--that settles _that_!” + +The Tanner. “Mr. Chairman, one thing is now plain: one of these men +has been eavesdropping under the other one’s bed, and filching family +secrets. If it is not unparliamentary to suggest it, I will remark +that both are equal to it. [The Chair. “Order! order!”] I withdraw the +remark, sir, and will confine myself to suggesting that _if_ one of +them has overheard the other reveal the test-remark to his wife, we +shall catch him now.” + +A Voice. “How?” + +The Tanner. “Easily. The two have not quoted the remark in exactly +the same words. You would have noticed that, if there hadn’t been a +considerable stretch of time and an exciting quarrel inserted between +the two readings.” + +A Voice. “Name the difference.” + +The Tanner. “The word _very_ is in Billson’s note, and not in the +other.” + +Many Voices. “That’s so--he’s right!” + +The Tanner. “And so, if the Chair will examine the test-remark in +the sack, we shall know which of these two frauds--[The Chair. +“Order!”]--which of these two adventurers--[The Chair. “Order! +order!”]--which of these two gentlemen--[laughter and applause]--is +entitled to wear the belt as being the first dishonest blatherskite +ever bred in this town--which he has dishonoured, and which will be a +sultry place for him from now out!” [Vigorous applause.] + +Many Voices. “Open it!--open the sack!” + +Mr. Burgess made a slit in the sack, slid his hand in, and brought out +an envelope. In it were a couple of folded notes. He said: + +“One of these is marked, ‘Not to be examined until all written +communications which have been addressed to the Chair--if any--shall +have been read.’ The other is marked ‘_The Test_.’ Allow me. It is +worded--to wit: + +“‘I do not require that the first half of the remark which was made +to me by my benefactor shall be quoted with exactness, for it was not +striking, and could be forgotten; but its closing fifteen words are +quite striking, and I think easily rememberable; unless _these_ shall +be accurately reproduced, let the applicant be regarded as an impostor. +My benefactor began by saying he seldom gave advice to anyone, but that +it always bore the hall-mark of high value when he did give it. Then he +said this--and it has never faded from my memory: ‘_You are far from +being a bad man_--’’” + +Fifty Voices. “That settles it--the money’s Wilson’s! Wilson! Wilson! +Speech! Speech!” + +People jumped up and crowded around Wilson, wringing his hand and +congratulating fervently--meantime the Chair was hammering with the +gavel and shouting: + +“Order, gentlemen! Order! Order! Let me finish reading, please.” When +quiet was restored, the reading was resumed--as follows: + +“‘_Go, and reform--or, mark my words--some day, for your sins you will +die and go to hell or Hadleyburg_--TRY AND MAKE IT THE FORMER.’” + +A ghastly silence followed. First an angry cloud began to settle darkly +upon the faces of the citizenship; after a pause the cloud began to +rise, and a tickled expression tried to take its place; tried so hard +that it was only kept under with great and painful difficulty; the +reporters, the Brixtonites, and other strangers bent their heads down +and shielded their faces with their hands, and managed to hold in by +main strength and heroic courtesy. At this most inopportune time burst +upon the stillness the roar of a solitary voice--Jack Halliday’s: + +“_That’s_ got the hall-mark on it!” + +Then the house let go, strangers and all. Even Mr. Burgess’s gravity +broke down presently, then the audience considered itself officially +absolved from all restraint, and it made the most of its privilege. It +was a good long laugh, and a tempestuously wholehearted one, but it +ceased at last--long enough for Mr. Burgess to try to resume, and for +the people to get their eyes partially wiped; then it broke out again, +and afterward yet again; then at last Burgess was able to get out these +serious words: + +“It is useless to try to disguise the fact--we find ourselves in the +presence of a matter of grave import. It involves the honour of your +town--it strikes at the town’s good name. The difference of a single +word between the test-remarks offered by Mr. Wilson and Mr. Billson was +itself a serious thing, since it indicated that one or the other of +these gentlemen had committed a theft--” + +The two men were sitting limp, nerveless, crushed; but at these words +both were electrified into movement, and started to get up. + +“Sit down!” said the Chair, sharply, and they obeyed. “That, as I +have said, was a serious thing. And it was--but for only one of them. +But the matter has become graver; for the honour of _both_ is now in +formidable peril. Shall I go even further, and say in inextricable +peril? _Both_ left out the crucial fifteen words.” He paused. During +several moments he allowed the pervading stillness to gather and +deepen its impressive effects, then added: “There would seem to be but +one way whereby this could happen. I ask these gentlemen--Was there +_collusion_?--_agreement_?” + +A low murmur sifted through the house; its import was, “He’s got them +both.” + +Billson was not used to emergencies; he sat in a helpless collapse. But +Wilson was a lawyer. He struggled to his feet, pale and worried, and +said: + +“I ask the indulgence of the house while I explain this most painful +matter. I am sorry to say what I am about to say, since it must inflict +irreparable injury upon Mr. Billson, whom I have always esteemed and +respected until now, and in whose invulnerability to temptation I +entirely believed--as did you all. But for the preservation of my own +honour I must speak--and with frankness. I confess with shame--and I +now beseech your pardon for it--that I said to the ruined stranger all +of the words contained in the test-remark, including the disparaging +fifteen. [Sensation.] When the late publication was made I recalled +them, and I resolved to claim the sack of coin, for by every right +I was entitled to it. Now I will ask you to consider this point, +and weigh it well; that stranger’s gratitude to me that night knew +no bounds; he said himself that he could find no words for it that +were adequate, and that if he should ever be able he would repay me +a thousandfold. Now, then, I ask you this; could I expect--could I +believe--could I even remotely imagine--that, feeling as he did, he +would do so ungrateful a thing as to add those quite unnecessary +fifteen words to his test?--set a trap for me?--expose me as a +slanderer of my own town before my own people assembled in a public +hall? It was preposterous; it was impossible. His test would contain +only the kindly opening clause of my remark. Of that I had no shadow of +doubt. You would have thought as I did. You would not have expected a +base betrayal from one whom you had befriended and against whom you had +committed no offence. And so with perfect confidence, perfect trust, +I wrote on a piece of paper the opening words--ending with “Go, and +reform,”--and signed it. When I was about to put it in an envelope I +was called into my back office, and without thinking I left the paper +lying open on my desk.” He stopped, turned his head slowly toward +Billson, waited a moment, then added: “I ask you to note this; when I +returned, a little latter, Mr. Billson was retiring by my street door.” +[Sensation.] + +In a moment Billson was on his feet and shouting: + +“It’s a lie! It’s an infamous lie!” + +The Chair. “Be seated, sir! Mr. Wilson has the floor.” + +Billson’s friends pulled him into his seat and quieted him, and Wilson +went on: + +“Those are the simple facts. My note was now lying in a different place +on the table from where I had left it. I noticed that, but attached +no importance to it, thinking a draught had blown it there. That +Mr. Billson would read a private paper was a thing which could not +occur to me; he was an honourable man, and he would be above that. If +you will allow me to say it, I think his extra word ‘_very_’ stands +explained: it is attributable to a defect of memory. I was the only man +in the world who could furnish here any detail of the test-mark--by +_honourable_ means. I have finished.” + +There is nothing in the world like a persuasive speech to fuddle the +mental apparatus and upset the convictions and debauch the emotions +of an audience not practised in the tricks and delusions of oratory. +Wilson sat down victorious. The house submerged him in tides of +approving applause; friends swarmed to him and shook him by the hand +and congratulated him, and Billson was shouted down and not allowed to +say a word. The Chair hammered and hammered with its gavel, and kept +shouting: + +“But let us proceed, gentlemen, let us proceed!” + +At last there was a measurable degree of quiet, and the hatter said: + +“But what is there to proceed with, sir, but to deliver the money?” + +Voices. “That’s it! That’s it! Come forward, Wilson!” + +The Hatter. “I move three cheers for Mr. Wilson, Symbol of the special +virtue which--” + +The cheers burst forth before he could finish; and in the midst +of them--and in the midst of the clamour of the gavel also--some +enthusiasts mounted Wilson on a big friend’s shoulder and were going to +fetch him in triumph to the platform. The Chair’s voice now rose above +the noise: + +“Order! To your places! You forget that there is still a document to +be read.” When quiet had been restored he took up the document, and +was going to read it, but laid it down again saying “I forgot; this is +not to be read until all written communications received by me have +first been read.” He took an envelope out of his pocket, removed its +enclosure, glanced at it--seemed astonished--held it out and gazed at +it--stared at it. + +Twenty or thirty voices cried out + +“What is it? Read it! read it!” + +And he did--slowly, and wondering: + +“‘The remark which I made to the stranger--[Voices. “Hello! how’s +this?”]--was this: ‘You are far from being a bad man. [Voices. “Great +Scott!”] Go, and reform.’” [Voice. “Oh, saw my leg off!”] Signed by Mr. +Pinkerton the banker.” + +The pandemonium of delight which turned itself loose now was of a sort +to make the judicious weep. Those whose withers were unwrung laughed +till the tears ran down; the reporters, in throes of laughter, set down +disordered pot-hooks which would never in the world be decipherable; +and a sleeping dog jumped up scared out of its wits, and barked itself +crazy at the turmoil. All manner of cries were scattered through the +din: “We’re getting rich--_two_ Symbols of Incorruptibility!--without +counting Billson!” “_Three_!--count Shadbelly in--we can’t have too +many!” “All right--Billson’s elected!” “Alas, poor Wilson! victim of +_two_ thieves!” + +A Powerful Voice. “Silence! The Chair’s fished up something more out of +its pocket.” + +Voices. “Hurrah! Is it something fresh? Read it! read! read!” + +The Chair [reading]. “‘The remark which I made,’ etc. ‘You are far from +being a bad man. Go,’ etc. Signed, ‘Gregory Yates.’” + +Tornado of Voices. “Four Symbols!” “’Rah for Yates!” “Fish again!” + +The house was in a roaring humour now, and ready to get all the fun out +of the occasion that might be in it. Several Nineteeners, looking pale +and distressed, got up and began to work their way towards the aisles, +but a score of shouts went up: + +“The doors, the doors--close the doors; no Incorruptible shall leave +this place! Sit down, everybody!” The mandate was obeyed. + +“Fish again! Read! read!” + +The Chair fished again, and once more the familiar words began to fall +from its lips--“‘You are far from being a bad man--’” + +“Name! name! What’s his name?” + +“‘L. Ingoldsby Sargent.’” + +“Five elected! Pile up the Symbols! Go on, go on!” + +“‘You are far from being a bad--’” + +“Name! name!” + +“‘Nicholas Whitworth.’” + +“Hooray! hooray! it’s a symbolical day!” + +Somebody wailed in, and began to sing this rhyme (leaving out “it’s”) +to the lovely “Mikado” tune of “When a man’s afraid of a beautiful +maid;” the audience joined in, with joy; then, just in time, somebody +contributed another line-- + + “And don’t you this forget--” + +The house roared it out. A third line was at once furnished-- + + “Corruptibles far from Hadleyburg are--” + +The house roared that one too. As the last note died, Jack Halliday’s +voice rose high and clear, freighted with a final line-- + + “But the Symbols are here, you bet!” + +That was sung, with booming enthusiasm. Then the happy house started in +at the beginning and sang the four lines through twice, with immense +swing and dash, and finished up with a crashing three-times-three and a +tiger for “Hadleyburg the Incorruptible and all Symbols of it which we +shall find worthy to receive the hall-mark to-night.” + +Then the shoutings at the Chair began again, all over the place: + +“Go on! go on! Read! read some more! Read all you’ve got!” + +“That’s it--go on! We are winning eternal celebrity!” + +A dozen men got up now and began to protest. They said that this farce +was the work of some abandoned joker, and was an insult to the whole +community. Without a doubt these signatures were all forgeries-- + +“Sit down! sit down! Shut up! You are confessing. We’ll find your +names in the lot.” + +“Mr. Chairman, how many of those envelopes have you got?” + +The Chair counted. + +“Together with those that have been already examined, there are +nineteen.” + +A storm of derisive applause broke out. + +“Perhaps they all contain the secret. I move that you open them all and +read every signature that is attached to a note of that sort--and read +also the first eight words of the note.” + +“Second the motion!” + +It was put and carried--uproariously. Then poor old Richards got up, and +his wife rose and stood at his side. Her head was bent down, so that +none might see that she was crying. Her husband gave her his arm, and so +supporting her, he began to speak in a quavering voice: + +“My friends, you have known us two--Mary and me--all our lives, and I +think you have liked us and respected us--” + +The Chair interrupted him: + +“Allow me. It is quite true--that which you are saying, Mr. Richards; +this town _does_ know you two; it _does_ like you; it _does_ respect you; +more--it honours you and _loves_ you--” + +Halliday’s voice rang out: + +“That’s the hall-marked truth, too! If the Chair is right, let the house +speak up and say it. Rise! Now, then--hip! hip! hip!--all together!” + +The house rose in mass, faced toward the old couple eagerly, filled the +air with a snow-storm of waving handkerchiefs, and delivered the cheers +with all its affectionate heart. + +The Chair then continued: + +“What I was going to say is this: We know your good heart, Mr. Richards, +but this is not a time for the exercise of charity toward offenders. +[Shouts of “Right! right!”] I see your generous purpose in your face, +but I cannot allow you to plead for these men--” + +“But I was going to--” + +“Please take your seat, Mr. Richards. We must examine the rest of these +notes--simple fairness to the men who have already been exposed requires +this. As soon as that has been done--I give you my word for this--you +shall he heard.” + +Many voices. “Right!--the Chair is right--no interruption can be +permitted at this stage! Go on!--the names! the names!--according to the +terms of the motion!” + +The old couple sat reluctantly down, and the husband whispered to the +wife, “It is pitifully hard to have to wait; the shame will be greater +than ever when they find we were only going to plead for _ourselves_.” + +Straightway the jollity broke loose again with the reading of the names. + +“‘You are far from being a bad man--’ Signature, ‘Robert J. Titmarsh.’” + +“‘You are far from being a bad man--’ Signature, ‘Eliphalet Weeks.’” + +“‘You are far from being a bad man--’ Signature, ‘Oscar B. Wilder.’” + +At this point the house lit upon the idea of taking the eight words out +of the Chairman’s hands. He was not unthankful for that. Thenceforward +he held up each note in its turn and waited. The house droned out the +eight words in a massed and measured and musical deep volume of sound +(with a daringly close resemblance to a well-known church chant)--“You +are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-a-d man.” Then the Chair said, “Signature, +‘Archibald Wilcox.’” And so on, and so on, name after name, and +everybody had an increasingly and gloriously good time except the +wretched Nineteen. Now and then, when a particularly shining name was +called, the house made the Chair wait while it chanted the whole of the +test-remark from the beginning to the closing words, “And go to hell or +Hadleyburg--try and make it the for-or-m-e-r!” and in these special cases +they added a grand and agonised and imposing “A-a-a-a-_men_!” + +The list dwindled, dwindled, dwindled, poor old Richards keeping tally of +the count, wincing when a name resembling his own was pronounced, and +waiting in miserable suspense for the time to come when it would be his +humiliating privilege to rise with Mary and finish his plea, which he was +intending to word thus: “... for until now we have never done any wrong +thing, but have gone our humble way unreproached. We are very poor, we +are old, and, have no chick nor child to help us; we were sorely tempted, +and we fell. It was my purpose when I got up before to make confession +and beg that my name might not be read out in this public place, for it +seemed to us that we could not bear it; but I was prevented. It was +just; it was our place to suffer with the rest. It has been hard for us. +It is the first time we have ever heard our name fall from any one’s +lips--sullied. Be merciful--for the sake or the better days; make our +shame as light to bear as in your charity you can.” At this point in his +reverie Mary nudged him, perceiving that his mind was absent. The house +was chanting, “You are f-a-r,” etc. + +“Be ready,” Mary whispered. “Your name comes now; he has read eighteen.” + +The chant ended. + +“Next! next! next!” came volleying from all over the house. + +Burgess put his hand into his pocket. The old couple, trembling, began +to rise. Burgess fumbled a moment, then said: + +“I find I have read them all.” + +Faint with joy and surprise, the couple sank into their seats, and Mary +whispered: + +“Oh, bless God, we are saved!--he has lost ours--I wouldn’t give this for +a hundred of those sacks!” + +The house burst out with its “Mikado” travesty, and sang it three times +with ever-increasing enthusiasm, rising to its feet when it reached for +the third time the closing line-- + + “But the Symbols are here, you bet!” + +and finishing up with cheers and a tiger for “Hadleyburg purity and our +eighteen immortal representatives of it.” + +Then Wingate, the saddler, got up and proposed cheers “for the cleanest +man in town, the one solitary important citizen in it who didn’t try to +steal that money--Edward Richards.” + +They were given with great and moving heartiness; then somebody proposed +that “Richards be elected sole Guardian and Symbol of the now Sacred +Hadleyburg Tradition, with power and right to stand up and look the whole +sarcastic world in the face.” + +Passed, by acclamation; then they sang the “Mikado” again, and ended it +with-- + + “And there’s _one_ Symbol left, you bet!” + +There was a pause; then-- + +A Voice. “Now, then, who’s to get the sack?” + +The Tanner (with bitter sarcasm). “That’s easy. The money has to be +divided among the eighteen Incorruptibles. They gave the suffering +stranger twenty dollars apiece--and that remark--each in his turn--it +took twenty-two minutes for the procession to move past. Staked the +stranger--total contribution, $360. All they want is just the loan +back--and interest--forty thousand dollars altogether.” + +Many Voices [derisively.] “That’s it! Divvy! divvy! Be kind to the +poor--don’t keep them waiting!” + +The Chair. “Order! I now offer the stranger’s remaining document. +It says: ‘If no claimant shall appear [grand chorus of groans], I +desire that you open the sack and count out the money to the principal +citizens of your town, they to take it in trust [Cries of “Oh! Oh! +Oh!”], and use it in such ways as to them shall seem best for the +propagation and preservation of your community’s noble reputation +for incorruptible honesty [more cries]--a reputation to which their +names and their efforts will add a new and far-reaching lustre.” +[Enthusiastic outburst of sarcastic applause.] That seems to be all. +No--here is a postscript: + +“‘P.S.--CITIZENS OF HADLEYBURG: There _is_ no test-remark--nobody +made one. [Great sensation.] There wasn’t any pauper stranger, nor +any twenty-dollar contribution, nor any accompanying benediction +and compliment--these are all inventions. [General buzz and hum of +astonishment and delight.] Allow me to tell my story--it will take +but a word or two. I passed through your town at a certain time, and +received a deep offence which I had not earned. Any other man would +have been content to kill one or two of you and call it square, but +to me that would have been a trivial revenge, and inadequate; for the +dead do not _suffer_. Besides I could not kill you all--and, anyway, +made as I am, even that would not have satisfied me. I wanted to damage +every man in the place, and every woman--and not in their bodies or in +their estate, but in their vanity--the place where feeble and foolish +people are most vulnerable. So I disguised myself and came back and +studied you. You were easy game. You had an old and lofty reputation +for honesty, and naturally you were proud of it--it was your treasure +of treasures, the very apple of your eye. As soon as I found out that +you carefully and vigilantly kept yourselves and your children _out +of temptation_, I knew how to proceed. Why, you simple creatures, the +weakest of all weak things is a virtue which has not been tested in +the fire. I laid a plan, and gathered a list of names. My project was +to corrupt Hadleyburg the Incorruptible. My idea was to make liars +and thieves of nearly half a hundred smirchless men and women who had +never in their lives uttered a lie or stolen a penny. I was afraid of +Goodson. He was neither born nor reared in Hadleyburg. I was afraid +that if I started to operate my scheme by getting my letter laid before +you, you would say to yourselves, ‘Goodson is the only man among us who +would give away twenty dollars to a poor devil’--and then you might +not bite at my bait. But heaven took Goodson; then I knew I was safe, +and I set my trap and baited it. It may be that I shall not catch all +the men to whom I mailed the pretended test-secret, but I shall catch +the most of them, if I know Hadleyburg nature. [Voices. “Right--he got +every last one of them.”] I believe they will even steal ostensible +_gamble_-money, rather than miss, poor, tempted, and mistrained +fellows. I am hoping to eternally and everlastingly squelch your vanity +and give Hadleyburg a new renown--one that will _stick_--and spread +far. If I have succeeded, open the sack and summon the Committee on +Propagation and Preservation of the Hadleyburg Reputation.’” + +A Cyclone of Voices. “Open it! Open it! The Eighteen to the front! +Committee on Propagation of the Tradition! Forward--the Incorruptibles!” + +The Chair ripped the sack wide, and gathered up a handful of bright, +broad, yellow coins, shook them together, then examined them. + +“Friends, they are only gilded disks of lead!” + +There was a crashing outbreak of delight over this news, and when the +noise had subsided, the tanner called out: + +“By right of apparent seniority in this business, Mr. Wilson is +Chairman of the Committee on Propagation of the Tradition. I suggest +that he step forward on behalf of his pals, and receive in trust the +money.” + +A Hundred Voices. “Wilson! Wilson! Wilson! Speech! Speech!” + +Wilson [in a voice trembling with anger]. “You will allow me to say, +and without apologies for my language, _damn_ the money!” + +A Voice. “Oh, and him a Baptist!” + +A Voice. “Seventeen Symbols left! Step up, gentlemen, and assume your +trust!” + +There was a pause--no response. + +The Saddler. “Mr. Chairman, we’ve got _one_ clean man left, anyway, out +of the late aristocracy; and he needs money, and deserves it. I move +that you appoint Jack Halliday to get up there and auction off that +sack of gilt twenty-dollar pieces, and give the result to the right +man--the man whom Hadleyburg delights to honour--Edward Richards.” + +This was received with great enthusiasm, the dog taking a hand again; +the saddler started the bids at a dollar, the Brixton folk and Barnum’s +representative fought hard for it, the people cheered every jump that +the bids made, the excitement climbed moment by moment higher and +higher, the bidders got on their mettle and grew steadily more and more +daring, more and more determined, the jumps went from a dollar up to +five, then to ten, then to twenty, then fifty, then to a hundred, then-- + +At the beginning of the auction Richards whispered in distress to +his wife: “Oh, Mary, can we allow it? It--it--you see, it is an +honour--reward, a testimonial to purity of character, and--and--can +we allow it? Hadn’t I better get up and--Oh, Mary, what ought we +to do?--what do you think we--” [Halliday’s voice. “Fifteen I’m +bid!--fifteen for the sack!--twenty!--ah, thanks!--thirty--thanks +again! Thirty, thirty, thirty!--do I hear forty?--forty it is! Keep +the ball rolling, gentlemen, keep it rolling!--fifty!--thanks, noble +Roman!--going at fifty, fifty, fifty!--seventy!--ninety!--splendid!--a +hundred!--pile it up, pile it up!--hundred and twenty--forty!--just +in time!--hundred and fifty!--Two hundred!--superb! Do I hear two +h--thanks!--two hundred and fifty!--”] + +“It is another temptation, Edward--I’m all in a tremble--but, oh, we’ve +escaped one temptation, and that ought to warn us, to--[“Six did I +hear?--thanks!--six fifty, six f--SEVEN hundred!”] And yet, Edward, +when you think--nobody susp--[“Eight hundred dollars!--hurrah!--make +it nine!--Mr. Parsons, did I hear you say--thanks!--nine!--this noble +sack of virgin lead going at only nine hundred dollars, gilding and +all--come! do I hear--a thousand!--gratefully yours!--did some one say +eleven?--a sack which is going to be the most celebrated in the whole +Uni--”] “Oh, Edward” (beginning to sob), “we are so poor!--but--but--do +as you think best--do as you think best.” + +Edward fell--that is, he sat still; sat with a conscience which was not +satisfied, but which was overpowered by circumstances. + +Meantime a stranger, who looked like an amateur detective gotten +up as an impossible English earl, had been watching the evening’s +proceedings with manifest interest, and with a contented expression in +his face; and he had been privately commenting to himself. He was now +soliloquising somewhat like this: “None of the Eighteen are bidding; +that is not satisfactory; I must change that--the dramatic unities +require it; they must buy the sack they tried to steal; they must pay +a heavy price, too--some of them are rich. And another thing, when I +make a mistake in Hadleyburg nature the man that puts that error upon +me is entitled to a high honorarium, and some one must pay. This poor +old Richards has brought my judgment to shame; he is an honest man:--I +don’t understand it, but I acknowledge it. Yes, he saw my deuces--_and_ +with a straight flush, and by rights the pot is his. And it shall be +a jack-pot, too, if I can manage it. He disappointed me, but let that +pass.” + +He was watching the bidding. At a thousand, the market broke: the +prices tumbled swiftly. He waited--and still watched. One competitor +dropped out; then another, and another. He put in a bid or two now. +When the bids had sunk to ten dollars, he added a five; some one raised +him a three; he waited a moment, then flung in a fifty-dollar jump, +and the sack was his--at $1,282. The house broke out in cheers--then +stopped; for he was on his feet, and had lifted his hand. He began to +speak. + +“I desire to say a word, and ask a favour. I am a speculator in +rarities, and I have dealings with persons interested in numismatics +all over the world. I can make a profit on this purchase, just as it +stands; but there is a way, if I can get your approval, whereby I can +make every one of these leaden twenty-dollar pieces worth its face +in gold, and perhaps more. Grant me that approval, and I will give +part of my gains to your Mr. Richards, whose invulnerable probity you +have so justly and so cordially recognised to-night; his share shall +be ten thousand dollars, and I will hand him the money to-morrow. +[Great applause from the house. But the “invulnerable probity” made +the Richardses blush prettily; however, it went for modesty, and did +no harm.] If you will pass my proposition by a good majority--I would +like a two-thirds vote--I will regard that as the town’s consent, and +that is all I ask. Rarities are always helped by any device which will +rouse curiosity and compel remark. Now if I may have your permission to +stamp upon the faces of each of these ostensible coins the names of the +eighteen gentlemen who--” + +Nine-tenths of the audience were on their feet in a moment--dog and +all--and the proposition was carried with a whirlwind of approving +applause and laughter. + +They sat down, and all the Symbols except “Dr.” Clay Harkness got up, +violently protesting against the proposed outrage, and threatening to-- + +“I beg you not to threaten me,” said the stranger calmly. “I know my +legal rights, and am not accustomed to being frightened at bluster.” +[Applause.] He sat down. “Dr.” Harkness saw an opportunity here. He +was one of the two very rich men of the place, and Pinkerton was the +other. Harkness was proprietor of a mint; that is to say, a popular +patent medicine. He was running for the Legislature on one ticket, and +Pinkerton on the other. It was a close race and a hot one, and getting +hotter every day. Both had strong appetites for money; each had bought +a great tract of land, with a purpose; there was going to be a new +railway, and each wanted to be in the Legislature and help locate the +route to his own advantage; a single vote might make the decision, and +with it two or three fortunes. The stake was large, and Harkness was a +daring speculator. He was sitting close to the stranger. He leaned over +while one or another of the other Symbols was entertaining the house +with protests and appeals, and asked, in a whisper, + +“What is your price for the sack?” + +“Forty thousand dollars.” + +“I’ll give you twenty.” + +“No.” + +“Twenty-five.” + +“No.” + +“Say thirty.” + +“The price is forty thousand dollars; not a penny less.” + +“All right, I’ll give it. I will come to the hotel at ten in the +morning. I don’t want it known; will see you privately.” + +“Very good.” Then the stranger got up and said to the house: + +“I find it late. The speeches of these gentlemen are not without merit, +not without interest, not without grace; yet if I may be excused I will +take my leave. I thank you for the great favour which you have shown me +in granting my petition. I ask the Chair to keep the sack for me until +to-morrow, and to hand these three five-hundred-dollar notes to Mr. +Richards.” They were passed up to the Chair. + +“At nine I will call for the sack, and at eleven will deliver the rest +of the ten thousand to Mr. Richards in person at his home. Good-night.” + +Then he slipped out, and left the audience making a vast noise, +which was composed of a mixture of cheers, the “Mikado” song, +dog-disapproval, and the chant, “You are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-d +man--a-a-a a-men!” + + + + +IV. + + +At home the Richardses had to endure congratulations and compliments +until midnight. Then they were left to themselves. They looked a little +sad, and they sat silent and thinking. Finally Mary sighed and said: + +“Do you think we are to blame, Edward--_much_ to blame?” and her eyes +wandered to the accusing triplet of big bank-notes lying on the table, +where the congratulators had been gloating over them and reverently +fingering them. Edward did not answer at once; then he brought out a +sigh and said, hesitatingly: + +“We--we couldn’t help it, Mary. It--well it was ordered. _All_ things +are.” + +Mary glanced up and looked at him steadily, but he didn’t return the +look. Presently she said: + +“I thought congratulations and praises always tasted good. But--it +seems to me, now--Edward?” + +“Well?” + +“Are you going to stay in the bank?” + +“N--no.” + +“Resign?” + +“In the morning--by note.” + +“It does seem best.” + +Richards bowed his head in his hands and muttered: + +“Before I was not afraid to let oceans of people’s money pour through +my hands, but--Mary, I am so tired, so tired--” + +“We will go to bed.” + +At nine in the morning the stranger called for the sack and took it to +the hotel in a cab. At ten Harkness had a talk with him privately. The +stranger asked for and got five cheques on a metropolitan bank--drawn +to “Bearer,”--four for $1,500 each, and one for $34,000. He put one of +the former in his pocket-book, and the remainder, representing $38,500, +he put in an envelope, and with these he added a note which he wrote +after Harkness was gone. At eleven he called at the Richards’ house +and knocked. Mrs. Richards peeped through the shutters, then went and +received the envelope, and the stranger disappeared without a word. She +came back flushed and a little unsteady on her legs, and gasped out: + +“I am sure I recognised him! Last night it seemed to me that maybe I +had seen him somewhere before.” + +“He is the man that brought the sack here?” + +“I am almost sure of it.” + +“Then he is the ostensible Stephenson too, and sold every important +citizen in this town with his bogus secret. Now if he has sent cheques +instead of money, we are sold too, after we thought we had escaped. I +was beginning to feel fairly comfortable once more, after my night’s +rest, but the look of that envelope makes me sick. It isn’t fat enough; +$8,500 in even the largest bank-notes makes more bulk than that.” + +“Edward, why do you object to cheques?” + +“Cheques signed by Stephenson! I am resigned to take the $8,500 if it +could come in bank-notes--for it does seem that it was so ordered, +Mary--but I have never had much courage, and I have not the pluck to +try to market a cheque signed with that disastrous name. It would be a +trap. That man tried to catch me; we escaped somehow or other; and now +he is trying a new way. If it is cheques--” + +“Oh, Edward, it is _too_ bad!” And she held up the cheques and began to +cry. + +“Put them in the fire! quick! we mustn’t be tempted. It is a trick +to make the world laugh at _us_, along with the rest, and--Give them +to _me_, since you can’t do it!” He snatched them and tried to hold +his grip till he could get to the stove; but he was human, he was a +cashier, and he stopped a moment to make sure of the signature. Then he +came near to fainting. + +“Fan me, Mary, fan me! They are the same as gold!” + +“Oh, how lovely, Edward! Why?” + +“Signed by Harkness. What can the mystery of that be, Mary?” + +“Edward, do you think--” + +“Look here--look at this! Fifteen--fifteen--fifteen--thirty-four. +Thirty-eight thousand five hundred! Mary, the sack isn’t worth twelve +dollars, and Harkness--apparently--has paid about par for it.” + +“And does it all come to us, do you think--instead of the ten thousand?” + +“Why, it looks like it. And the cheques are made to ‘Bearer,’ too.” + +“Is that good, Edward? What is it for?” + +“A hint to collect them at some distant bank, I reckon. Perhaps +Harkness doesn’t want the matter known. What is that--a note?” + +“Yes. It was with the cheques.” + +It was in the “Stephenson” handwriting, but there was no signature. It +said: + + “I am a disappointed man. Your honesty is beyond the reach of + temptation. I had a different idea about it, but I wronged you in + that, and I beg pardon, and do it sincerely. I honour you--and that + is sincere too. This town is not worthy to kiss the hem of your + garment. Dear sir, I made a square bet with myself that there were + nineteen debauchable men in your self-righteous community. I have + lost. Take the whole pot, you are entitled to it.” + +Richards drew a deep sigh, and said: + +“It seems written with fire--it burns so. Mary--I am miserable again.” + +“I, too. Ah, dear, I wish--” + +“To think, Mary--he _believes_ in me.” + + +“Oh, don’t, Edward--I can’t bear it.” + +“If those beautiful words were deserved, Mary--and God knows I believed I +deserved them once--I think I could give the forty thousand dollars for +them. And I would put that paper away, as representing more than gold +and jewels, and keep it always. But now--We could not live in the shadow +of its accusing presence, Mary.” + +He put it in the fire. + +A messenger arrived and delivered an envelope. Richards took from it a +note and read it; it was from Burgess: + + “You saved me, in a difficult time. I saved you last night. It was + at cost of a lie, but I made the sacrifice freely, and out of a + grateful heart. None in this village knows so well as I know how + brave and good and noble you are. At bottom you cannot respect me, + knowing as you do of that matter of which I am accused, and by the + general voice condemned; but I beg that you will at least believe that + I am a grateful man; it will help me to bear my burden. [Signed] + ‘BURGESS.’” + +“Saved, once more. And on such terms!” He put the note in the fire. +“I--I wish I were dead, Mary, I wish I were out of it all!” + +“Oh, these are bitter, bitter days, Edward. The stabs, through their +very generosity, are so deep--and they come so fast!” + +Three days before the election each of two thousand voters suddenly +found himself in possession of a prized memento--one of the renowned +bogus double-eagles. Around one of its faces was stamped these words: +“THE REMARK I MADE TO THE POOR STRANGER WAS--” Around the other face +was stamped these: “GO, AND REFORM. [SIGNED] PINKERTON.” Thus the +entire remaining refuse of the renowned joke was emptied upon a single +head, and with calamitous effect. It revived the recent vast laugh and +concentrated it upon Pinkerton; and Harkness’s election was a walk-over. + +Within twenty-four hours after the Richardses had received their +cheques their consciences were quieting down, discouraged; the old +couple were learning to reconcile themselves to the sin which they had +committed. But they were to learn, now, that a sin takes on new and +real terrors when there seems a chance that it is going to be found +out. This gives it a fresh and most substantial and important aspect. +At church the morning sermon was of the usual pattern; it was the same +old things said in the same old way; they had heard them a thousand +times and found them innocuous, next to meaningless, and easy to sleep +under; but now it was different: the sermon seemed to bristle with +accusations; it seemed aimed straight and specially at people who were +concealing deadly sins. After church they got away from the mob of +congratulators as soon as they could, and hurried homeward, chilled to +the bone at they did not know what--vague, shadowy, indefinite fears. +And by chance they caught a glimpse of Mr. Burgess as he turned a +corner. He paid no attention to their nod of recognition! He hadn’t +seen it; but they did not know that. What could his conduct mean? +It might mean--it might--mean--oh, a dozen dreadful things. Was it +possible that he knew that Richards could have cleared him of guilt in +that bygone time, and had been silently waiting for a chance to even +up accounts? At home, in their distress they got to imagining that +their servant might have been in the next room listening when Richards +revealed the secret to his wife that he knew of Burgess’s innocence; +next Richards began to imagine that he had heard the swish of a gown +in there at that time; next, he was sure he _had_ heard it. They would +call Sarah in, on a pretext, and watch her face; if she had been +betraying them to Mr. Burgess, it would show in her manner. They asked +her some questions--questions which were so random and incoherent and +seemingly purposeless that the girl felt sure that the old people’s +minds had been affected by their sudden good fortune; the sharp and +watchful gaze which they bent upon her frightened her, and that +completed the business. She blushed, she became nervous and confused, +and to the old people these were plain signs of guilt--guilt of some +fearful sort or other--without doubt she was a spy and a traitor. +When they were alone again they began to piece many unrelated things +together and get horrible results out of the combination. When things +had got about to the worst Richards was delivered of a sudden gasp and +his wife asked: + +“Oh, what is it?--what is it?” + +“The note--Burgess’s note! Its language was sarcastic, I see it now.” +He quoted: “‘At bottom you cannot respect me, _knowing_, as you do, +of _that matter of_ which I am accused’--oh, it is perfectly plain, +now, God help me! He knows that I know! You see the ingenuity of the +phrasing. It was a trap--and like a fool, I walked into it. And Mary--!” + +“Oh, it is dreadful--I know what you are going to say--he didn’t return +your transcript of the pretended test-remark.” + +“No--kept it to destroy us with. Mary, he has exposed us to some +already. I know it--I know it well. I saw it in a dozen faces after +church. Ah, he wouldn’t answer our nod of recognition--he knew what he +had been doing!” + +In the night the doctor was called. The news went around in the +morning that the old couple were rather seriously ill--prostrated by +the exhausting excitement growing out of their great windfall, the +congratulations, and the late hours, the doctor said. The town was +sincerely distressed; for these old people were about all it had left +to be proud of, now. + +Two days later the news was worse. The old couple were delirious, and +were doing strange things. By witness of the nurses, Richards had +exhibited cheques--for $8,500? No--for an amazing sum--$38,500! What +could be the explanation of this gigantic piece of luck? + +The following day the nurses had more news--and wonderful. They had +concluded to hide the cheques, lest harm come to them; but when they +searched they were gone from under the patient’s pillow--vanished away. +The patient said: + +“Let the pillow alone; what do you want?” + +“We thought it best that the cheques--” + +“You will never see them again--they are destroyed. They came from +Satan. I saw the hell-brand on them, and I knew they were sent to +betray me to sin.” Then he fell to gabbling strange and dreadful things +which were not clearly understandable, and which the doctor admonished +them to keep to themselves. + +Richards was right; the cheques were never seen again. + +A nurse must have talked in her sleep, for within two days the +forbidden gabblings were the property of the town; and they were of +a surprising sort. They seemed to indicate that Richards had been a +claimant for the sack himself, and that Burgess had concealed that fact +and then maliciously betrayed it. + +Burgess was taxed with this and stoutly denied it. And he said it was +not fair to attach weight to the chatter of a sick old man who was out +of his mind. Still, suspicion was in the air, and there was much talk. + +After a day or two it was reported that Mrs. Richards’s delirious +deliveries were getting to be duplicates of her husband’s. Suspicion +flamed up into conviction, now, and the town’s pride in the purity of +its one undiscredited important citizen began to dim down and flicker +toward extinction. + +Six days passed, then came more news. The old couple were dying. +Richards’s mind cleared in his latest hour, and he sent for Burgess. +Burgess said: + +“Let the room be cleared. I think he wishes to say something in +privacy.” + +“No!” said Richards; “I want witnesses. I want you all to hear +my confession, so that I may die a man, and not a dog. I was +clean--artificially--like the rest; and like the rest I fell when +temptation came. I signed a lie, and claimed the miserable sack. Mr. +Burgess remembered that I had done him a service, and in gratitude (and +ignorance) he suppressed my claim and saved me. You know the thing that +was charged against Burgess years ago. My testimony, and mine alone, +could have cleared him, and I was a coward and left him to suffer +disgrace--” + +“No--no--Mr. Richards, you--” + +“My servant betrayed my secret to him--” + +“No one has betrayed anything to me--” + +--“And then he did a natural and justifiable thing; he repented of +the saving kindness which he had done me, and he _exposed_ me--as I +deserved--” + +“Never!--I make oath--” + +“Out of my heart I forgive him.” + +Burgess’s impassioned protestations fell upon deaf ears; the dying man +passed away without knowing that once more he had done poor Burgess a +wrong. The old wife died that night. + +The last of the sacred Nineteen had fallen a prey to the fiendish +sack; the town was stripped of the last rag of its ancient glory. Its +mourning was not showy, but it was deep. + +By act of the Legislature--upon prayer and petition--Hadleyburg was +allowed to change its name to (never mind what--I will not give it +away), and leave one word out of the motto that for many generations +had graced the town’s official seal. + +It is an honest town once more, and the man will have to rise early +that catches it napping again. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1213 *** diff --git a/old/1213-h/1213-h.htm b/old/1213-h/1213-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fafa1af --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1213-h/1213-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1822 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + P { + margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4 { + text-align: left; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1213 ***</div> + +<p><a id="startoftext"></a></p> + +<h1>THE MAN THAT CORRUPTED HADLEYBURG</h1> +<h2>I.</h2> +<p>It was many years ago. Hadleyburg was the most honest and upright +town in all the region round about. It had kept that reputation +unsmirched during three generations, and was prouder of it than of any +other of its possessions. It was so proud of it, and so anxious +to insure its perpetuation, that it began to teach the principles of +honest dealing to its babies in the cradle, and made the like teachings +the staple of their culture thenceforward through all the years devoted +to their education. Also, throughout the formative years temptations +were kept out of the way of the young people, so that their honesty +could have every chance to harden and solidify, and become a part of +their very bone. The neighbouring towns were jealous of this honourable +supremacy, and affected to sneer at Hadleyburg’s pride in it and +call it vanity; but all the same they were obliged to acknowledge that +Hadleyburg was in reality an incorruptible town; and if pressed they +would also acknowledge that the mere fact that a young man hailed from +Hadleyburg was all the recommendation he needed when he went forth from +his natal town to seek for responsible employment.</p> +<p>But at last, in the drift of time, Hadleyburg had the ill luck to +offend a passing stranger—possibly without knowing it, certainly +without caring, for Hadleyburg was sufficient unto itself, and cared +not a rap for strangers or their opinions. Still, it would have +been well to make an exception in this one’s case, for he was +a bitter man, and revengeful. All through his wanderings during +a whole year he kept his injury in mind, and gave all his leisure moments +to trying to invent a compensating satisfaction for it. He contrived +many plans, and all of them were good, but none of them was quite sweeping +enough: the poorest of them would hurt a great many individuals, but +what he wanted was a plan which would comprehend the entire town, and +not let so much as one person escape unhurt. At last he had a +fortunate idea, and when it fell into his brain it lit up his whole +head with an evil joy. He began to form a plan at once, saying +to himself “That is the thing to do—I will corrupt the town.”</p> +<p>Six months later he went to Hadleyburg, and arrived in a buggy at +the house of the old cashier of the bank about ten at night. He +got a sack out of the buggy, shouldered it, and staggered with it through +the cottage yard, and knocked at the door. A woman’s voice +said “Come in,” and he entered, and set his sack behind +the stove in the parlour, saying politely to the old lady who sat reading +the “Missionary Herald” by the lamp:</p> +<p>“Pray keep your seat, madam, I will not disturb you. +There—now it is pretty well concealed; one would hardly know it +was there. Can I see your husband a moment, madam?”</p> +<p>No, he was gone to Brixton, and might not return before morning.</p> +<p>“Very well, madam, it is no matter. I merely wanted to +leave that sack in his care, to be delivered to the rightful owner when +he shall be found. I am a stranger; he does not know me; I am +merely passing through the town to-night to discharge a matter which +has been long in my mind. My errand is now completed, and I go +pleased and a little proud, and you will never see me again. There +is a paper attached to the sack which will explain everything. +Good-night, madam.”</p> +<p>The old lady was afraid of the mysterious big stranger, and was glad +to see him go. But her curiosity was roused, and she went straight +to the sack and brought away the paper. It began as follows:</p> +<blockquote><p>“TO BE PUBLISHED, or, the right man sought out +by private inquiry—either will answer. This sack contains +gold coin weighing a hundred and sixty pounds four ounces—”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Mercy on us, and the door not locked!”</p> +<p>Mrs. Richards flew to it all in a tremble and locked it, then pulled +down the window-shades and stood frightened, worried, and wondering +if there was anything else she could do toward making herself and the +money more safe. She listened awhile for burglars, then surrendered +to curiosity, and went back to the lamp and finished reading the paper:</p> +<blockquote><p>“I am a foreigner, and am presently going back +to my own country, to remain there permanently. I am grateful +to America for what I have received at her hands during my long stay +under her flag; and to one of her citizens—a citizen of Hadleyburg—I +am especially grateful for a great kindness done me a year or two ago. +Two great kindnesses in fact. I will explain. I was a gambler. +I say I WAS. I was a ruined gambler. I arrived in this village +at night, hungry and without a penny. I asked for help—in +the dark; I was ashamed to beg in the light. I begged of the right +man. He gave me twenty dollars—that is to say, he gave me +life, as I considered it. He also gave me fortune; for out of +that money I have made myself rich at the gaming-table. And finally, +a remark which he made to me has remained with me to this day, and has +at last conquered me; and in conquering has saved the remnant of my +morals: I shall gamble no more. Now I have no idea who that man +was, but I want him found, and I want him to have this money, to give +away, throw away, or keep, as he pleases. It is merely my way +of testifying my gratitude to him. If I could stay, I would find +him myself; but no matter, he will be found. This is an honest +town, an incorruptible town, and I know I can trust it without fear. +This man can be identified by the remark which he made to me; I feel +persuaded that he will remember it.</p> +<p>“And now my plan is this: If you prefer to conduct the inquiry +privately, do so. Tell the contents of this present writing to +any one who is likely to be the right man. If he shall answer, +‘I am the man; the remark I made was so-and-so,’ apply the +test—to wit: open the sack, and in it you will find a sealed envelope +containing that remark. If the remark mentioned by the candidate +tallies with it, give him the money, and ask no further questions, for +he is certainly the right man.</p> +<p>“But if you shall prefer a public inquiry, then publish this +present writing in the local paper—with these instructions added, +to wit: Thirty days from now, let the candidate appear at the town-hall +at eight in the evening (Friday), and hand his remark, in a sealed envelope, +to the Rev. Mr. Burgess (if he will be kind enough to act); and let +Mr. Burgess there and then destroy the seals of the sack, open it, and +see if the remark is correct: if correct, let the money be delivered, +with my sincere gratitude, to my benefactor thus identified.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Mrs. Richards sat down, gently quivering with excitement, and was +soon lost in thinkings—after this pattern: “What a strange +thing it is! ... And what a fortune for that kind man who set his +bread afloat upon the waters! ... If it had only been my husband that +did it!—for we are so poor, so old and poor! ...” +Then, with a sigh—“But it was not my Edward; no, it was +not he that gave a stranger twenty dollars. It is a pity too; +I see it now... ” Then, with a shudder—“But +it is <i>gamblers</i>’ money! the wages of sin; we couldn’t +take it; we couldn’t touch it. I don’t like to be +near it; it seems a defilement.” She moved to a farther +chair... “I wish Edward would come, and take it to the bank; +a burglar might come at any moment; it is dreadful to be here all alone +with it.”</p> +<p>At eleven Mr. Richards arrived, and while his wife was saying “I +am <i>so</i> glad you’ve come!” he was saying, “I +am so tired—tired clear out; it is dreadful to be poor, and have +to make these dismal journeys at my time of life. Always at the +grind, grind, grind, on a salary—another man’s slave, and +he sitting at home in his slippers, rich and comfortable.”</p> +<p>“I am so sorry for you, Edward, you know that; but be comforted; +we have our livelihood; we have our good name—”</p> +<p>“Yes, Mary, and that is everything. Don’t mind +my talk—it’s just a moment’s irritation and doesn’t +mean anything. Kiss me—there, it’s all gone now, and +I am not complaining any more. What have you been getting? +What’s in the sack?”</p> +<p>Then his wife told him the great secret. It dazed him for a +moment; then he said:</p> +<p>“It weighs a hundred and sixty pounds? Why, Mary, it’s +for-ty thou-sand dollars—think of it—a whole fortune! +Not ten men in this village are worth that much. Give me the paper.”</p> +<p>He skimmed through it and said:</p> +<p>“Isn’t it an adventure! Why, it’s a romance; +it’s like the impossible things one reads about in books, and +never sees in life.” He was well stirred up now; cheerful, +even gleeful. He tapped his old wife on the cheek, and said humorously, +“Why, we’re rich, Mary, rich; all we’ve got to do +is to bury the money and burn the papers. If the gambler ever +comes to inquire, we’ll merely look coldly upon him and say: ‘What +is this nonsense you are talking? We have never heard of you and +your sack of gold before;’ and then he would look foolish, and—”</p> +<p>“And in the meantime, while you are running on with your jokes, +the money is still here, and it is fast getting along toward burglar-time.”</p> +<p>“True. Very well, what shall we do—make the inquiry +private? No, not that; it would spoil the romance. The public +method is better. Think what a noise it will make! And it +will make all the other towns jealous; for no stranger would trust such +a thing to any town but Hadleyburg, and they know it. It’s +a great card for us. I must get to the printing-office now, or +I shall be too late.”</p> +<p>“But stop—stop—don’t leave me here alone +with it, Edward!”</p> +<p>But he was gone. For only a little while, however. Not +far from his own house he met the editor—proprietor of the paper, +and gave him the document, and said “Here is a good thing for +you, Cox—put it in.”</p> +<p>“It may be too late, Mr. Richards, but I’ll see.”</p> +<p>At home again, he and his wife sat down to talk the charming mystery +over; they were in no condition for sleep. The first question +was, Who could the citizen have been who gave the stranger the twenty +dollars? It seemed a simple one; both answered it in the same +breath—</p> +<p>“Barclay Goodson.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Richards, “he could have done it, and +it would have been like him, but there’s not another in the town.”</p> +<p>“Everybody will grant that, Edward—grant it privately, +anyway. For six months, now, the village has been its own proper +self once more—honest, narrow, self-righteous, and stingy.”</p> +<p>“It is what he always called it, to the day of his death—said +it right out publicly, too.”</p> +<p>“Yes, and he was hated for it.”</p> +<p>“Oh, of course; but he didn’t care. I reckon he +was the best-hated man among us, except the Reverend Burgess.”</p> +<p>“Well, Burgess deserves it—he will never get another +congregation here. Mean as the town is, it knows how to estimate +<i>him</i>. Edward, doesn’t it seem odd that the stranger +should appoint Burgess to deliver the money?”</p> +<p>“Well, yes—it does. That is—that is—”</p> +<p>“Why so much that-<i>is</i>-ing? Would <i>you</i> select +him?”</p> +<p>“Mary, maybe the stranger knows him better than this village +does.”</p> +<p>“Much <i>that</i> would help Burgess!”</p> +<p>The husband seemed perplexed for an answer; the wife kept a steady +eye upon him, and waited. Finally Richards said, with the hesitancy +of one who is making a statement which is likely to encounter doubt,</p> +<p>“Mary, Burgess is not a bad man.”</p> +<p>His wife was certainly surprised.</p> +<p>“Nonsense!” she exclaimed.</p> +<p>“He is not a bad man. I know. The whole of his +unpopularity had its foundation in that one thing—the thing that +made so much noise.”</p> +<p>“That ‘one thing,’ indeed! As if that ‘one +thing’ wasn’t enough, all by itself.”</p> +<p>“Plenty. Plenty. Only he wasn’t guilty of +it.”</p> +<p>“How you talk! Not guilty of it! Everybody knows +he <i>was</i> guilty.”</p> +<p>“Mary, I give you my word—he was innocent.”</p> +<p>“I can’t believe it and I don’t. How do you +know?”</p> +<p>“It is a confession. I am ashamed, but I will make it. +I was the only man who knew he was innocent. I could have saved +him, and—and—well, you know how the town was wrought up—I +hadn’t the pluck to do it. It would have turned everybody +against me. I felt mean, ever so mean; but I didn’t dare; +I hadn’t the manliness to face that.”</p> +<p>Mary looked troubled, and for a while was silent. Then she +said stammeringly:</p> +<p>“I—I don’t think it would have done for you to—to—One +mustn’t—er—public opinion—one has to be so careful—so—” +It was a difficult road, and she got mired; but after a little she got +started again. “It was a great pity, but—Why, we couldn’t +afford it, Edward—we couldn’t indeed. Oh, I wouldn’t +have had you do it for anything!”</p> +<p>“It would have lost us the good-will of so many people, Mary; +and then—and then—”</p> +<p>“What troubles me now is, what <i>he</i> thinks of us, Edward.”</p> +<p>“He? <i>He</i> doesn’t suspect that I could have +saved him.”</p> +<p>“Oh,” exclaimed the wife, in a tone of relief, “I +am glad of that. As long as he doesn’t know that you could +have saved him, he—he—well that makes it a great deal better. +Why, I might have known he didn’t know, because he is always trying +to be friendly with us, as little encouragement as we give him. +More than once people have twitted me with it. There’s the +Wilsons, and the Wilcoxes, and the Harknesses, they take a mean pleasure +in saying ‘<i>Your friend</i> Burgess,’ because they know +it pesters me. I wish he wouldn’t persist in liking us so; +I can’t think why he keeps it up.”</p> +<p>“I can explain it. It’s another confession. +When the thing was new and hot, and the town made a plan to ride him +on a rail, my conscience hurt me so that I couldn’t stand it, +and I went privately and gave him notice, and he got out of the town +and stayed out till it was safe to come back.”</p> +<p>“Edward! If the town had found it out—”</p> +<p>“<i>Don’t</i>! It scares me yet, to think of it. +I repented of it the minute it was done; and I was even afraid to tell +you lest your face might betray it to somebody. I didn’t +sleep any that night, for worrying. But after a few days I saw +that no one was going to suspect me, and after that I got to feeling +glad I did it. And I feel glad yet, Mary—glad through and +through.”</p> +<p>“So do I, now, for it would have been a dreadful way to treat +him. Yes, I’m glad; for really you did owe him that, you +know. But, Edward, suppose it should come out yet, some day!”</p> +<p>“It won’t.”</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>“Because everybody thinks it was Goodson.”</p> +<p>“Of course they would!”</p> +<p>“Certainly. And of course <i>he</i> didn’t care. +They persuaded poor old Sawlsberry to go and charge it on him, and he +went blustering over there and did it. Goodson looked him over, +like as if he was hunting for a place on him that he could despise the +most; then he says, ‘So you are the Committee of Inquiry, are +you?’ Sawlsberry said that was about what he was. +‘H’m. Do they require particulars, or do you reckon +a kind of a <i>general</i> answer will do?’ ‘If they +require particulars, I will come back, Mr. Goodson; I will take the +general answer first.’ ‘Very well, then, tell them +to go to hell—I reckon that’s general enough. And +I’ll give you some advice, Sawlsberry; when you come back for +the particulars, fetch a basket to carry what is left of yourself home +in.’”</p> +<p>“Just like Goodson; it’s got all the marks. He +had only one vanity; he thought he could give advice better than any +other person.”</p> +<p>“It settled the business, and saved us, Mary. The subject +was dropped.”</p> +<p>“Bless you, I’m not doubting <i>that</i>.”</p> +<p>Then they took up the gold-sack mystery again, with strong interest. +Soon the conversation began to suffer breaks—interruptions caused +by absorbed thinkings. The breaks grew more and more frequent. +At last Richards lost himself wholly in thought. He sat long, +gazing vacantly at the floor, and by-and-by he began to punctuate his +thoughts with little nervous movements of his hands that seemed to indicate +vexation. Meantime his wife too had relapsed into a thoughtful +silence, and her movements were beginning to show a troubled discomfort. +Finally Richards got up and strode aimlessly about the room, ploughing +his hands through his hair, much as a somnambulist might do who was +having a bad dream. Then he seemed to arrive at a definite purpose; +and without a word he put on his hat and passed quickly out of the house. +His wife sat brooding, with a drawn face, and did not seem to be aware +that she was alone. Now and then she murmured, “Lead us +not into t ... but—but—we are so poor, so poor! ... +Lead us not into.... Ah, who would be hurt by it?—and no one +would ever know.... Lead us.... ” The voice died out +in mumblings. After a little she glanced up and muttered in a +half-frightened, half-glad way—</p> +<p>“He is gone! But, oh dear, he may be too late—too +late.... Maybe not—maybe there is still time.” She +rose and stood thinking, nervously clasping and unclasping her hands. +A slight shudder shook her frame, and she said, out of a dry throat, +“God forgive me—it’s awful to think such things—but.... Lord, how we are made—how strangely we are made!”</p> +<p>She turned the light low, and slipped stealthily over and knelt down +by the sack and felt of its ridgy sides with her hands, and fondled +them lovingly; and there was a gloating light in her poor old eyes. +She fell into fits of absence; and came half out of them at times to +mutter “If we had only waited!—oh, if we had only waited +a little, and not been in such a hurry!”</p> +<p>Meantime Cox had gone home from his office and told his wife all +about the strange thing that had happened, and they had talked it over +eagerly, and guessed that the late Goodson was the only man in the town +who could have helped a suffering stranger with so noble a sum as twenty +dollars. Then there was a pause, and the two became thoughtful +and silent. And by-and-by nervous and fidgety. At last the +wife said, as if to herself,</p> +<p>“Nobody knows this secret but the Richardses ... and us ... nobody.”</p> +<p>The husband came out of his thinkings with a slight start, and gazed +wistfully at his wife, whose face was become very pale; then he hesitatingly +rose, and glanced furtively at his hat, then at his wife—a sort +of mute inquiry. Mrs. Cox swallowed once or twice, with her hand +at her throat, then in place of speech she nodded her head. In +a moment she was alone, and mumbling to herself.</p> +<p>And now Richards and Cox were hurrying through the deserted streets, +from opposite directions. They met, panting, at the foot of the +printing-office stairs; by the night-light there they read each other’s +face. Cox whispered:</p> +<p>“Nobody knows about this but us?”</p> +<p>The whispered answer was:</p> +<p>“Not a soul—on honour, not a soul!”</p> +<p>“If it isn’t too late to—”</p> +<p>The men were starting up-stairs; at this moment they were overtaken +by a boy, and Cox asked,</p> +<p>“Is that you, Johnny?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>“You needn’t ship the early mail—nor <i>any</i> +mail; wait till I tell you.”</p> +<p>“It’s already gone, sir.”</p> +<p>“<i>Gone</i>?” It had the sound of an unspeakable +disappointment in it.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. Time-table for Brixton and all the towns beyond +changed to-day, sir—had to get the papers in twenty minutes earlier +than common. I had to rush; if I had been two minutes later—”</p> +<p>The men turned and walked slowly away, not waiting to hear the rest. +Neither of them spoke during ten minutes; then Cox said, in a vexed +tone,</p> +<p>“What possessed you to be in such a hurry, <i>I</i> can’t +make out.”</p> +<p>The answer was humble enough:</p> +<p>“I see it now, but somehow I never thought, you know, until +it was too late. But the next time—”</p> +<p>“Next time be hanged! It won’t come in a thousand +years.”</p> +<p>Then the friends separated without a good-night, and dragged themselves +home with the gait of mortally stricken men. At their homes their +wives sprang up with an eager “Well?”—then saw the +answer with their eyes and sank down sorrowing, without waiting for +it to come in words. In both houses a discussion followed of a +heated sort—a new thing; there had been discussions before, but +not heated ones, not ungentle ones. The discussions to-night were +a sort of seeming plagiarisms of each other. Mrs. Richards said:</p> +<p>“If you had only waited, Edward—if you had only stopped +to think; but no, you must run straight to the printing-office and spread +it all over the world.”</p> +<p>“It <i>said</i> publish it.”</p> +<p>“That is nothing; it also said do it privately, if you liked. +There, now—is that true, or not?”</p> +<p>“Why, yes—yes, it is true; but when I thought what a +stir it would make, and what a compliment it was to Hadleyburg that +a stranger should trust it so—”</p> +<p>“Oh, certainly, I know all that; but if you had only stopped +to think, you would have seen that you <i>couldn’t</i> find the +right man, because he is in his grave, and hasn’t left chick nor +child nor relation behind him; and as long as the money went to somebody +that awfully needed it, and nobody would be hurt by it, and—and—”</p> +<p>She broke down, crying. Her husband tried to think of some +comforting thing to say, and presently came out with this:</p> +<p>“But after all, Mary, it must be for the best—it must +be; we know that. And we must remember that it was so ordered—”</p> +<p>“Ordered! Oh, everything’s <i>ordered</i>, when +a person has to find some way out when he has been stupid. Just the +same, it was <i>ordered</i> that the money should come to us in this +special way, and it was you that must take it on yourself to go meddling +with the designs of Providence—and who gave you the right? +It was wicked, that is what it was—just blasphemous presumption, +and no more becoming to a meek and humble professor of—”</p> +<p>“But, Mary, you know how we have been trained all our lives +long, like the whole village, till it is absolutely second nature to +us to stop not a single moment to think when there’s an honest +thing to be done—”</p> +<p>“Oh, I know it, I know it—it’s been one everlasting +training and training and training in honesty—honesty shielded, +from the very cradle, against every possible temptation, and so it’s +<i>artificial</i> honesty, and weak as water when temptation comes, +as we have seen this night. God knows I never had shade nor shadow +of a doubt of my petrified and indestructible honesty until now—and +now, under the very first big and real temptation, I—Edward, it +is my belief that this town’s honesty is as rotten as mine is; +as rotten as yours. It is a mean town, a hard, stingy town, and +hasn’t a virtue in the world but this honesty it is so celebrated +for and so conceited about; and so help me, I do believe that if ever +the day comes that its honesty falls under great temptation, its grand +reputation will go to ruin like a house of cards. There, now, +I’ve made confession, and I feel better; I am a humbug, and I’ve +been one all my life, without knowing it. Let no man call me honest +again—I will not have it.”</p> +<p>“I—Well, Mary, I feel a good deal as you do: I certainly +do. It seems strange, too, so strange. I never could have +believed it—never.”</p> +<p>A long silence followed; both were sunk in thought. At last +the wife looked up and said:</p> +<p>“I know what you are thinking, Edward.”</p> +<p>Richards had the embarrassed look of a person who is caught.</p> +<p>“I am ashamed to confess it, Mary, but—”</p> +<p>“It’s no matter, Edward, I was thinking the same question +myself.”</p> +<p>“I hope so. State it.”</p> +<p>“You were thinking, if a body could only guess out <i>what +the remark was</i> that Goodson made to the stranger.”</p> +<p>“It’s perfectly true. I feel guilty and ashamed. +And you?”</p> +<p>“I’m past it. Let us make a pallet here; we’ve +got to stand watch till the bank vault opens in the morning and admits +the sack... Oh dear, oh dear—if we hadn’t made the mistake!”</p> +<p>The pallet was made, and Mary said:</p> +<p>“The open sesame—what could it have been? I do +wonder what that remark could have been. But come; we will get +to bed now.”</p> +<p>“And sleep?”</p> +<p>“No; think.”</p> +<p>“Yes; think.”</p> +<p>By this time the Coxes too had completed their spat and their reconciliation, +and were turning in—to think, to think, and toss, and fret, and +worry over what the remark could possibly have been which Goodson made +to the stranded derelict; that golden remark; that remark worth forty +thousand dollars, cash.</p> +<p>The reason that the village telegraph-office was open later than +usual that night was this: The foreman of Cox’s paper was the +local representative of the Associated Press. One might say its +honorary representative, for it wasn’t four times a year that +he could furnish thirty words that would be accepted. But this +time it was different. His despatch stating what he had caught +got an instant answer:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Send the whole thing—all the details—twelve +hundred words.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>A colossal order! The foreman filled the bill; and he was the +proudest man in the State. By breakfast-time the next morning +the name of Hadleyburg the Incorruptible was on every lip in America, +from Montreal to the Gulf, from the glaciers of Alaska to the orange-groves +of Florida; and millions and millions of people were discussing the +stranger and his money-sack, and wondering if the right man would be +found, and hoping some more news about the matter would come soon—right +away.</p> +<h2>II.</h2> +<p>Hadleyburg village woke up world-celebrated—astonished—happy—vain. +Vain beyond imagination. Its nineteen principal citizens and their +wives went about shaking hands with each other, and beaming, and smiling, +and congratulating, and saying <i>this</i> thing adds a new word to +the dictionary—<i>Hadleyburg</i>, synonym for <i>incorruptible</i>—destined +to live in dictionaries for ever! And the minor and unimportant +citizens and their wives went around acting in much the same way. +Everybody ran to the bank to see the gold-sack; and before noon grieved +and envious crowds began to flock in from Brixton and all neighbouring +towns; and that afternoon and next day reporters began to arrive from +everywhere to verify the sack and its history and write the whole thing +up anew, and make dashing free-hand pictures of the sack, and of Richards’s +house, and the bank, and the Presbyterian church, and the Baptist church, +and the public square, and the town-hall where the test would be applied +and the money delivered; and damnable portraits of the Richardses, and +Pinkerton the banker, and Cox, and the foreman, and Reverend Burgess, +and the postmaster—and even of Jack Halliday, who was the loafing, +good-natured, no-account, irreverent fisherman, hunter, boys’ +friend, stray-dogs’ friend, typical “Sam Lawson” of +the town. The little mean, smirking, oily Pinkerton showed the +sack to all comers, and rubbed his sleek palms together pleasantly, +and enlarged upon the town’s fine old reputation for honesty and +upon this wonderful endorsement of it, and hoped and believed that the +example would now spread far and wide over the American world, and be +epoch-making in the matter of moral regeneration. And so on, and +so on.</p> +<p>By the end of a week things had quieted down again; the wild intoxication +of pride and joy had sobered to a soft, sweet, silent delight—a +sort of deep, nameless, unutterable content. All faces bore a +look of peaceful, holy happiness.</p> +<p>Then a change came. It was a gradual change; so gradual that +its beginnings were hardly noticed; maybe were not noticed at all, except +by Jack Halliday, who always noticed everything; and always made fun +of it, too, no matter what it was. He began to throw out chaffing +remarks about people not looking quite so happy as they did a day or +two ago; and next he claimed that the new aspect was deepening to positive +sadness; next, that it was taking on a sick look; and finally he said +that everybody was become so moody, thoughtful, and absent-minded that +he could rob the meanest man in town of a cent out of the bottom of +his breeches pocket and not disturb his reverie.</p> +<p>At this stage—or at about this stage—a saying like this +was dropped at bedtime—with a sigh, usually—by the head +of each of the nineteen principal households:</p> +<p>“Ah, what <i>could</i> have been the remark that Goodson made?”</p> +<p>And straightway—with a shudder—came this, from the man’s +wife:</p> +<p>“Oh, <i>don’t</i>! What horrible thing are you +mulling in your mind? Put it away from you, for God’s sake!”</p> +<p>But that question was wrung from those men again the next night—and +got the same retort. But weaker.</p> +<p>And the third night the men uttered the question yet again—with +anguish, and absently. This time—and the following night—the +wives fidgeted feebly, and tried to say something. But didn’t.</p> +<p>And the night after that they found their tongues and responded—longingly:</p> +<p>“Oh, if we <i>could</i> only guess!”</p> +<p>Halliday’s comments grew daily more and more sparklingly disagreeable +and disparaging. He went diligently about, laughing at the town, +individually and in mass. But his laugh was the only one left +in the village: it fell upon a hollow and mournful vacancy and emptiness. +Not even a smile was findable anywhere. Halliday carried a cigar-box +around on a tripod, playing that it was a camera, and halted all passers +and aimed the thing and said “Ready!—now look pleasant, +please,” but not even this capital joke could surprise the dreary +faces into any softening.</p> +<p>So three weeks passed—one week was left. It was Saturday +evening after supper. Instead of the aforetime Saturday-evening +flutter and bustle and shopping and larking, the streets were empty +and desolate. Richards and his old wife sat apart in their little +parlour—miserable and thinking. This was become their evening +habit now: the life-long habit which had preceded it, of reading, knitting, +and contented chat, or receiving or paying neighbourly calls, was dead +and gone and forgotten, ages ago—two or three weeks ago; nobody +talked now, nobody read, nobody visited—the whole village sat +at home, sighing, worrying, silent. Trying to guess out that remark.</p> +<p>The postman left a letter. Richards glanced listlessly at the +superscription and the post-mark—unfamiliar, both—and tossed +the letter on the table and resumed his might-have-beens and his hopeless +dull miseries where he had left them off. Two or three hours later +his wife got wearily up and was going away to bed without a good-night—custom +now—but she stopped near the letter and eyed it awhile with a +dead interest, then broke it open, and began to skim it over. +Richards, sitting there with his chair tilted back against the wall +and his chin between his knees, heard something fall. It was his +wife. He sprang to her side, but she cried out:</p> +<p>“Leave me alone, I am too happy. Read the letter—read +it!”</p> +<p>He did. He devoured it, his brain reeling. The letter +was from a distant State, and it said:</p> +<blockquote><p>“I am a stranger to you, but no matter: I have +something to tell. I have just arrived home from Mexico, and learned +about that episode. Of course you do not know who made that remark, +but I know, and I am the only person living who does know. It +was GOODSON. I knew him well, many years ago. I passed through +your village that very night, and was his guest till the midnight train +came along. I overheard him make that remark to the stranger in +the dark—it was in Hale Alley. He and I talked of it the +rest of the way home, and while smoking in his house. He mentioned +many of your villagers in the course of his talk—most of them +in a very uncomplimentary way, but two or three favourably: among these +latter yourself. I say ‘favourably’—nothing +stronger. I remember his saying he did not actually LIKE any person +in the town—not one; but that you—I THINK he said you—am +almost sure—had done him a very great service once, possibly without +knowing the full value of it, and he wished he had a fortune, he would +leave it to you when he died, and a curse apiece for the rest of the +citizens. Now, then, if it was you that did him that service, +you are his legitimate heir, and entitled to the sack of gold. +I know that I can trust to your honour and honesty, for in a citizen +of Hadleyburg these virtues are an unfailing inheritance, and so I am +going to reveal to you the remark, well satisfied that if you are not +the right man you will seek and find the right one and see that poor +Goodson’s debt of gratitude for the service referred to is paid. +This is the remark ‘YOU ARE FAR FROM BEING A BAD MAN: GO, AND +REFORM.’</p> +<p>“HOWARD L. STEPHENSON.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Oh, Edward, the money is ours, and I am so grateful, <i>oh</i>, +so grateful,—kiss me, dear, it’s for ever since we kissed—and +we needed it so—the money—and now you are free of Pinkerton +and his bank, and nobody’s slave any more; it seems to me I could +fly for joy.”</p> +<p>It was a happy half-hour that the couple spent there on the settee +caressing each other; it was the old days come again—days that +had begun with their courtship and lasted without a break till the stranger +brought the deadly money. By-and-by the wife said:</p> +<p>“Oh, Edward, how lucky it was you did him that grand service, +poor Goodson! I never liked him, but I love him now. And +it was fine and beautiful of you never to mention it or brag about it.” +Then, with a touch of reproach, “But you ought to have told <i>me</i>, +Edward, you ought to have told your wife, you know.”</p> +<p>“Well, I—er—well, Mary, you see—”</p> +<p>“Now stop hemming and hawing, and tell me about it, Edward. +I always loved you, and now I’m proud of you. Everybody +believes there was only one good generous soul in this village, and +now it turns out that you—Edward, why don’t you tell me?”</p> +<p>“Well—er—er—Why, Mary, I can’t!”</p> +<p>“You <i>can’t</i>? <i>Why</i> can’t you?”</p> +<p>“You see, he—well, he—he made me promise I wouldn’t.”</p> +<p>The wife looked him over, and said, very slowly:</p> +<p>“Made—you—promise? Edward, what do you tell +me that for?”</p> +<p>“Mary, do you think I would lie?”</p> +<p>She was troubled and silent for a moment, then she laid her hand +within his and said:</p> +<p>“No ... no. We have wandered far enough from our bearings—God +spare us that! In all your life you have never uttered a lie. +But now—now that the foundations of things seem to be crumbling +from under us, we—we—” She lost her voice for +a moment, then said, brokenly, “Lead us not into temptation. . +. I think you made the promise, Edward. Let it rest so. +Let us keep away from that ground. Now—that is all gone +by; let us he happy again; it is no time for clouds.”</p> +<p>Edward found it something of an effort to comply, for his mind kept +wandering—trying to remember what the service was that he had +done Goodson.</p> +<p>The couple lay awake the most of the night, Mary happy and busy, +Edward busy, but not so happy. Mary was planning what she would +do with the money. Edward was trying to recall that service. +At first his conscience was sore on account of the lie he had told Mary—if +it was a lie. After much reflection—suppose it <i>was</i> +a lie? What then? Was it such a great matter? Aren’t +we always <i>acting</i> lies? Then why not tell them? Look +at Mary—look what she had done. While he was hurrying off +on his honest errand, what was she doing? Lamenting because the +papers hadn’t been destroyed and the money kept. Is theft +better than lying?</p> +<p><i>That</i> point lost its sting—the lie dropped into the background +and left comfort behind it. The next point came to the front: +<i>had</i> he rendered that service? Well, here was Goodson’s +own evidence as reported in Stephenson’s letter; there could be +no better evidence than that—it was even <i>proof</i> that he +had rendered it. Of course. So that point was settled. . +. No, not quite. He recalled with a wince that this unknown Mr. +Stephenson was just a trifle unsure as to whether the performer of it +was Richards or some other—and, oh dear, he had put Richards on +his honour! He must himself decide whither that money must go—and +Mr. Stephenson was not doubting that if he was the wrong man he would +go honourably and find the right one. Oh, it was odious to put +a man in such a situation—ah, why couldn’t Stephenson have +left out that doubt? What did he want to intrude that for?</p> +<p>Further reflection. How did it happen that <i>Richards’s</i> +name remained in Stephenson’s mind as indicating the right man, +and not some other man’s name? That looked good. Yes, +that looked very good. In fact it went on looking better and better, +straight along—until by-and-by it grew into positive <i>proof</i>. +And then Richards put the matter at once out of his mind, for he had +a private instinct that a proof once established is better left so.</p> +<p>He was feeling reasonably comfortable now, but there was still one +other detail that kept pushing itself on his notice: of course he had +done that service—that was settled; but what <i>was</i> that service? +He must recall it—he would not go to sleep till he had recalled +it; it would make his peace of mind perfect. And so he thought +and thought. He thought of a dozen things—possible services, +even probable services—but none of them seemed adequate, none +of them seemed large enough, none of them seemed worth the money—worth +the fortune Goodson had wished he could leave in his will. And +besides, he couldn’t remember having done them, anyway. +Now, then—now, then—what <i>kind</i> of a service would +it be that would make a man so inordinately grateful? Ah—the +saving of his soul! That must be it. Yes, he could remember, +now, how he once set himself the task of converting Goodson, and laboured +at it as much as—he was going to say three months; but upon closer +examination it shrunk to a month, then to a week, then to a day, then +to nothing. Yes, he remembered now, and with unwelcome vividness, +that Goodson had told him to go to thunder and mind his own business—<i>he</i> +wasn’t hankering to follow Hadleyburg to heaven!</p> +<p>So that solution was a failure—he hadn’t saved Goodson’s +soul. Richards was discouraged. Then after a little came +another idea: had he saved Goodson’s property? No, that +wouldn’t do—he hadn’t any. His life? That +is it! Of course. Why, he might have thought of it before. +This time he was on the right track, sure. His imagination-mill +was hard at work in a minute, now.</p> +<p>Thereafter, during a stretch of two exhausting hours, he was busy +saving Goodson’s life. He saved it in all kinds of difficult +and perilous ways. In every case he got it saved satisfactorily +up to a certain point; then, just as he was beginning to get well persuaded +that it had really happened, a troublesome detail would turn up which +made the whole thing impossible. As in the matter of drowning, +for instance. In that case he had swum out and tugged Goodson +ashore in an unconscious state with a great crowd looking on and applauding, +but when he had got it all thought out and was just beginning to remember +all about it, a whole swarm of disqualifying details arrived on the +ground: the town would have known of the circumstance, Mary would have +known of it, it would glare like a limelight in his own memory instead +of being an inconspicuous service which he had possibly rendered “without +knowing its full value.” And at this point he remembered +that he couldn’t swim anyway.</p> +<p>Ah—<i>there</i> was a point which he had been overlooking from +the start: it had to be a service which he had rendered “possibly +without knowing the full value of it.” Why, really, that +ought to be an easy hunt—much easier than those others. +And sure enough, by-and-by he found it. Goodson, years and years +ago, came near marrying a very sweet and pretty girl, named Nancy Hewitt, +but in some way or other the match had been broken off; the girl died, +Goodson remained a bachelor, and by-and-by became a soured one and a +frank despiser of the human species. Soon after the girl’s +death the village found out, or thought it had found out, that she carried +a spoonful of negro blood in her veins. Richards worked at these +details a good while, and in the end he thought he remembered things +concerning them which must have gotten mislaid in his memory through +long neglect. He seemed to dimly remember that it was <i>he</i> +that found out about the negro blood; that it was he that told the village; +that the village told Goodson where they got it; that he thus saved +Goodson from marrying the tainted girl; that he had done him this great +service “without knowing the full value of it,” in fact +without knowing that he <i>was</i> doing it; but that Goodson knew the +value of it, and what a narrow escape he had had, and so went to his +grave grateful to his benefactor and wishing he had a fortune to leave +him. It was all clear and simple, now, and the more he went over +it the more luminous and certain it grew; and at last, when he nestled +to sleep, satisfied and happy, he remembered the whole thing just as +if it had been yesterday. In fact, he dimly remembered Goodson’s +<i>telling</i> him his gratitude once. Meantime Mary had spent +six thousand dollars on a new house for herself and a pair of slippers +for her pastor, and then had fallen peacefully to rest.</p> +<p>That same Saturday evening the postman had delivered a letter to +each of the other principal citizens—nineteen letters in all. +No two of the envelopes were alike, and no two of the superscriptions +were in the same hand, but the letters inside were just like each other +in every detail but one. They were exact copies of the letter +received by Richards—handwriting and all—and were all signed +by Stephenson, but in place of Richards’s name each receiver’s +own name appeared.</p> +<p>All night long eighteen principal citizens did what their caste-brother +Richards was doing at the same time—they put in their energies +trying to remember what notable service it was that they had unconsciously +done Barclay Goodson. In no case was it a holiday job; still they +succeeded.</p> +<p>And while they were at this work, which was difficult, their wives +put in the night spending the money, which was easy. During that +one night the nineteen wives spent an average of seven thousand dollars +each out of the forty thousand in the sack—a hundred and thirty-three +thousand altogether.</p> +<p>Next day there was a surprise for Jack Halliday. He noticed +that the faces of the nineteen chief citizens and their wives bore that +expression of peaceful and holy happiness again. He could not +understand it, neither was he able to invent any remarks about it that +could damage it or disturb it. And so it was his turn to be dissatisfied +with life. His private guesses at the reasons for the happiness +failed in all instances, upon examination. When he met Mrs. Wilcox +and noticed the placid ecstasy in her face, he said to himself, “Her +cat has had kittens”—and went and asked the cook; it was +not so, the cook had detected the happiness, but did not know the cause. +When Halliday found the duplicate ecstasy in the face of “Shadbelly” +Billson (village nickname), he was sure some neighbour of Billson’s +had broken his leg, but inquiry showed that this had not happened. +The subdued ecstasy in Gregory Yates’s face could mean but one +thing—he was a mother-in-law short; it was another mistake. +“And Pinkerton—Pinkerton—he has collected ten cents +that he thought he was going to lose.” And so on, and so +on. In some cases the guesses had to remain in doubt, in the others +they proved distinct errors. In the end Halliday said to himself, +“Anyway it roots up that there’s nineteen Hadleyburg families +temporarily in heaven: I don’t know how it happened; I only know +Providence is off duty to-day.”</p> +<p>An architect and builder from the next State had lately ventured +to set up a small business in this unpromising village, and his sign +had now been hanging out a week. Not a customer yet; he was a +discouraged man, and sorry he had come. But his weather changed +suddenly now. First one and then another chief citizen’s +wife said to him privately:</p> +<p>“Come to my house Monday week—but say nothing about it +for the present. We think of building.”</p> +<p>He got eleven invitations that day. That night he wrote his +daughter and broke off her match with her student. He said she +could marry a mile higher than that.</p> +<p>Pinkerton the banker and two or three other well-to-do men planned +country-seats—but waited. That kind don’t count their +chickens until they are hatched.</p> +<p>The Wilsons devised a grand new thing—a fancy-dress ball. +They made no actual promises, but told all their acquaintanceship in +confidence that they were thinking the matter over and thought they +should give it—“and if we do, you will be invited, of course.” +People were surprised, and said, one to another, “Why, they are +crazy, those poor Wilsons, they can’t afford it.” +Several among the nineteen said privately to their husbands, “It +is a good idea, we will keep still till their cheap thing is over, then +<i>we</i> will give one that will make it sick.”</p> +<p>The days drifted along, and the bill of future squanderings rose +higher and higher, wilder and wilder, more and more foolish and reckless. +It began to look as if every member of the nineteen would not only spend +his whole forty thousand dollars before receiving-day, but be actually +in debt by the time he got the money. In some cases light-headed +people did not stop with planning to spend, they really spent—on +credit. They bought land, mortgages, farms, speculative stocks, +fine clothes, horses, and various other things, paid down the bonus, +and made themselves liable for the rest—at ten days. Presently +the sober second thought came, and Halliday noticed that a ghastly anxiety +was beginning to show up in a good many faces. Again he was puzzled, +and didn’t know what to make of it. “The Wilcox kittens +aren’t dead, for they weren’t born; nobody’s broken +a leg; there’s no shrinkage in mother-in-laws; <i>nothing</i> +has happened—it is an insolvable mystery.”</p> +<p>There was another puzzled man, too—the Rev. Mr. Burgess. +For days, wherever he went, people seemed to follow him or to be watching +out for him; and if he ever found himself in a retired spot, a member +of the nineteen would be sure to appear, thrust an envelope privately +into his hand, whisper “To be opened at the town-hall Friday evening,” +then vanish away like a guilty thing. He was expecting that there +might be one claimant for the sack—doubtful, however, Goodson +being dead—but it never occurred to him that all this crowd might +be claimants. When the great Friday came at last, he found that +he had nineteen envelopes.</p> +<h2>III.</h2> +<p>The town-hall had never looked finer. The platform at the end +of it was backed by a showy draping of flags; at intervals along the +walls were festoons of flags; the gallery fronts were clothed in flags; +the supporting columns were swathed in flags; all this was to impress +the stranger, for he would be there in considerable force, and in a +large degree he would be connected with the press. The house was +full. The 412 fixed seats were occupied; also the 68 extra chairs +which had been packed into the aisles; the steps of the platform were +occupied; some distinguished strangers were given seats on the platform; +at the horseshoe of tables which fenced the front and sides of the platform +sat a strong force of special correspondents who had come from everywhere. +It was the best-dressed house the town had ever produced. There +were some tolerably expensive toilets there, and in several cases the +ladies who wore them had the look of being unfamiliar with that kind +of clothes. At least the town thought they had that look, but +the notion could have arisen from the town’s knowledge of the +fact that these ladies had never inhabited such clothes before.</p> +<p>The gold-sack stood on a little table at the front of the platform +where all the house could see it. The bulk of the house gazed +at it with a burning interest, a mouth-watering interest, a wistful +and pathetic interest; a minority of nineteen couples gazed at it tenderly, +lovingly, proprietarily, and the male half of this minority kept saying +over to themselves the moving little impromptu speeches of thankfulness +for the audience’s applause and congratulations which they were +presently going to get up and deliver. Every now and then one +of these got a piece of paper out of his vest pocket and privately glanced +at it to refresh his memory.</p> +<p>Of course there was a buzz of conversation going on—there always +is; but at last, when the Rev. Mr. Burgess rose and laid his hand on +the sack, he could hear his microbes gnaw, the place was so still. +He related the curious history of the sack, then went on to speak in +warm terms of Hadleyburg’s old and well-earned reputation for +spotless honesty, and of the town’s just pride in this reputation. +He said that this reputation was a treasure of priceless value; that +under Providence its value had now become inestimably enhanced, for +the recent episode had spread this fame far and wide, and thus had focussed +the eyes of the American world upon this village, and made its name +for all time, as he hoped and believed, a synonym for commercial incorruptibility. +[Applause.] “And who is to be the guardian of this noble +fame—the community as a whole? No! The responsibility +is individual, not communal. From this day forth each and every +one of you is in his own person its special guardian, and individually +responsible that no harm shall come to it. Do you—does each +of you—accept this great trust? [Tumultuous assent.] +Then all is well. Transmit it to your children and to your children’s +children. To-day your purity is beyond reproach—see to it +that it shall remain so. To-day there is not a person in your +community who could be beguiled to touch a penny not his own—see +to it that you abide in this grace. [“We will! we will!”] +This is not the place to make comparisons between ourselves and other +communities—some of them ungracious towards us; they have their +ways, we have ours; let us be content. [Applause.] I am +done. Under my hand, my friends, rests a stranger’s eloquent +recognition of what we are; through him the world will always henceforth +know what we are. We do not know who he is, but in your name I +utter your gratitude, and ask you to raise your voices in indorsement.”</p> +<p>The house rose in a body and made the walls quake with the thunders +of its thankfulness for the space of a long minute. Then it sat +down, and Mr. Burgess took an envelope out of his pocket. The +house held its breath while he slit the envelope open and took from +it a slip of paper. He read its contents—slowly and impressively—the +audience listening with tranced attention to this magic document, each +of whose words stood for an ingot of gold:</p> +<p>“‘The remark which I made to the distressed stranger +was this: “You are very far from being a bad man; go, and reform.”’” +Then he continued:—“We shall know in a moment now whether +the remark here quoted corresponds with the one concealed in the sack; +and if that shall prove to be so—and it undoubtedly will—this +sack of gold belongs to a fellow-citizen who will henceforth stand before +the nation as the symbol of the special virtue which has made our town +famous throughout the land—Mr. Billson!”</p> +<p>The house had gotten itself all ready to burst into the proper tornado +of applause; but instead of doing it, it seemed stricken with a paralysis; +there was a deep hush for a moment or two, then a wave of whispered +murmurs swept the place—of about this tenor: “<i>Billson</i>! +oh, come, this is <i>too</i> thin! Twenty dollars to a stranger—or +<i>anybody</i>—<i>Billson</i>! Tell it to the marines!” +And now at this point the house caught its breath all of a sudden in +a new access of astonishment, for it discovered that whereas in one +part of the hall Deacon Billson was standing up with his head meekly +bowed, in another part of it Lawyer Wilson was doing the same. +There was a wondering silence now for a while. Everybody was puzzled, +and nineteen couples were surprised and indignant.</p> +<p>Billson and Wilson turned and stared at each other. Billson +asked, bitingly:</p> +<p>“Why do <i>you</i> rise, Mr. Wilson?”</p> +<p>“Because I have a right to. Perhaps you will be good +enough to explain to the house why <i>you</i> rise.”</p> +<p>“With great pleasure. Because I wrote that paper.”</p> +<p>“It is an impudent falsity! I wrote it myself.”</p> +<p>It was Burgess’s turn to be paralysed. He stood looking +vacantly at first one of the men and then the other, and did not seem +to know what to do. The house was stupefied. Lawyer Wilson +spoke up now, and said:</p> +<p>“I ask the Chair to read the name signed to that paper.”</p> +<p>That brought the Chair to itself, and it read out the name:</p> +<p>“John Wharton <i>Billson</i>.”</p> +<p>“There!” shouted Billson, “what have you got to +say for yourself now? And what kind of apology are you going to +make to me and to this insulted house for the imposture which you have +attempted to play here?”</p> +<p>“No apologies are due, sir; and as for the rest of it, I publicly +charge you with pilfering my note from Mr. Burgess and substituting +a copy of it signed with your own name. There is no other way +by which you could have gotten hold of the test-remark; I alone, of +living men, possessed the secret of its wording.”</p> +<p>There was likely to be a scandalous state of things if this went +on; everybody noticed with distress that the shorthand scribes were +scribbling like mad; many people were crying “Chair, chair! +Order! order!” Burgess rapped with his gavel, and said:</p> +<p>“Let us not forget the proprieties due. There has evidently +been a mistake somewhere, but surely that is all. If Mr. Wilson +gave me an envelope—and I remember now that he did—I still +have it.”</p> +<p>He took one out of his pocket, opened it, glanced at it, looked surprised +and worried, and stood silent a few moments. Then he waved his +hand in a wandering and mechanical way, and made an effort or two to +say something, then gave it up, despondently. Several voices cried +out:</p> +<p>“Read it! read it! What is it?”</p> +<p>So he began, in a dazed and sleep-walker fashion:</p> +<p>“‘The remark which I made to the unhappy stranger was +this: “You are far from being a bad man. [The house gazed +at him marvelling.] Go, and reform.”’ [Murmurs: +“Amazing! what can this mean?”] This one,” said +the Chair, “is signed Thurlow G. Wilson.”</p> +<p>“There!” cried Wilson, “I reckon that settles it! +I knew perfectly well my note was purloined.”</p> +<p>“Purloined!” retorted Billson. “I’ll +let you know that neither you nor any man of your kidney must venture +to—”</p> +<p>The Chair: “Order, gentlemen, order! Take your seats, +both of you, please.”</p> +<p>They obeyed, shaking their heads and grumbling angrily. The +house was profoundly puzzled; it did not know what to do with this curious +emergency. Presently Thompson got up. Thompson was the hatter. +He would have liked to be a Nineteener; but such was not for him; his +stock of hats was not considerable enough for the position. He +said:</p> +<p>“Mr. Chairman, if I may be permitted to make a suggestion, +can both of these gentlemen be right? I put it to you, sir, can +both have happened to say the very same words to the stranger? +It seems to me—”</p> +<p>The tanner got up and interrupted him. The tanner was a disgruntled +man; he believed himself entitled to be a Nineteener, but he couldn’t +get recognition. It made him a little unpleasant in his ways and +speech. Said he:</p> +<p>“Sho, <i>that’s</i> not the point! <i>That</i> +could happen—twice in a hundred years—but not the other +thing. <i>Neither</i> of them gave the twenty dollars!” +[A ripple of applause.]</p> +<p>Billson. “I did!”</p> +<p>Wilson. “I did!”</p> +<p>Then each accused the other of pilfering.</p> +<p>The Chair. “Order! Sit down, if you please—both +of you. Neither of the notes has been out of my possession at +any moment.”</p> +<p>A Voice. “Good—that settles <i>that</i>!”</p> +<p>The Tanner. “Mr. Chairman, one thing is now plain: one +of these men has been eavesdropping under the other one’s bed, +and filching family secrets. If it is not unparliamentary to suggest +it, I will remark that both are equal to it. [The Chair. +“Order! order!”] I withdraw the remark, sir, and will +confine myself to suggesting that <i>if</i> one of them has overheard +the other reveal the test-remark to his wife, we shall catch him now.”</p> +<p>A Voice. “How?”</p> +<p>The Tanner. “Easily. The two have not quoted the +remark in exactly the same words. You would have noticed that, +if there hadn’t been a considerable stretch of time and an exciting +quarrel inserted between the two readings.”</p> +<p>A Voice. “Name the difference.”</p> +<p>The Tanner. “The word <i>very</i> is in Billson’s +note, and not in the other.”</p> +<p>Many Voices. “That’s so—he’s right!”</p> +<p>The Tanner. “And so, if the Chair will examine the test-remark +in the sack, we shall know which of these two frauds—[The Chair. +“Order!”]—which of these two adventurers—[The +Chair. “Order! order!”]—which of these two gentlemen—[laughter +and applause]—is entitled to wear the belt as being the first +dishonest blatherskite ever bred in this town—which he has dishonoured, +and which will be a sultry place for him from now out!” +[Vigorous applause.]</p> +<p>Many Voices. “Open it!—open the sack!”</p> +<p>Mr. Burgess made a slit in the sack, slid his hand in, and brought +out an envelope. In it were a couple of folded notes. He +said:</p> +<p>“One of these is marked, ‘Not to be examined until all +written communications which have been addressed to the Chair—if +any—shall have been read.’ The other is marked ‘<i>The +Test</i>.’ Allow me. It is worded—to wit:</p> +<p>“‘I do not require that the first half of the remark +which was made to me by my benefactor shall be quoted with exactness, +for it was not striking, and could be forgotten; but its closing fifteen +words are quite striking, and I think easily rememberable; unless <i>these</i> +shall be accurately reproduced, let the applicant be regarded as an +impostor. My benefactor began by saying he seldom gave advice +to anyone, but that it always bore the hall-mark of high value when +he did give it. Then he said this—and it has never faded +from my memory: ‘<i>You are far from being a bad man</i>—’’”</p> +<p>Fifty Voices. “That settles it—the money’s +Wilson’s! Wilson! Wilson! Speech! Speech!”</p> +<p>People jumped up and crowded around Wilson, wringing his hand and +congratulating fervently—meantime the Chair was hammering with +the gavel and shouting:</p> +<p>“Order, gentlemen! Order! Order! Let me finish +reading, please.” When quiet was restored, the reading was +resumed—as follows:</p> +<p>“‘<i>Go, and reform—or, mark my words—some +day, for your sins you will die and go to hell or Hadleyburg</i>—TRY +AND MAKE IT THE FORMER.’”</p> +<p>A ghastly silence followed. First an angry cloud began to settle +darkly upon the faces of the citizenship; after a pause the cloud began +to rise, and a tickled expression tried to take its place; tried so +hard that it was only kept under with great and painful difficulty; +the reporters, the Brixtonites, and other strangers bent their heads +down and shielded their faces with their hands, and managed to hold +in by main strength and heroic courtesy. At this most inopportune +time burst upon the stillness the roar of a solitary voice—Jack +Halliday’s:</p> +<p>“<i>That’s</i> got the hall-mark on it!”</p> +<p>Then the house let go, strangers and all. Even Mr. Burgess’s +gravity broke down presently, then the audience considered itself officially +absolved from all restraint, and it made the most of its privilege. +It was a good long laugh, and a tempestuously wholehearted one, but +it ceased at last—long enough for Mr. Burgess to try to resume, +and for the people to get their eyes partially wiped; then it broke +out again, and afterward yet again; then at last Burgess was able to +get out these serious words:</p> +<p>“It is useless to try to disguise the fact—we find ourselves +in the presence of a matter of grave import. It involves the honour +of your town—it strikes at the town’s good name. The +difference of a single word between the test-remarks offered by Mr. +Wilson and Mr. Billson was itself a serious thing, since it indicated +that one or the other of these gentlemen had committed a theft—”</p> +<p>The two men were sitting limp, nerveless, crushed; but at these words +both were electrified into movement, and started to get up.</p> +<p>“Sit down!” said the Chair, sharply, and they obeyed. +“That, as I have said, was a serious thing. And it was—but +for only one of them. But the matter has become graver; for the +honour of <i>both</i> is now in formidable peril. Shall I go even +further, and say in inextricable peril? <i>Both</i> left out the +crucial fifteen words.” He paused. During several +moments he allowed the pervading stillness to gather and deepen its +impressive effects, then added: “There would seem to be but one +way whereby this could happen. I ask these gentlemen—Was +there <i>collusion</i>?—<i>agreement</i>?”</p> +<p>A low murmur sifted through the house; its import was, “He’s +got them both.”</p> +<p>Billson was not used to emergencies; he sat in a helpless collapse. +But Wilson was a lawyer. He struggled to his feet, pale and worried, +and said:</p> +<p>“I ask the indulgence of the house while I explain this most +painful matter. I am sorry to say what I am about to say, since +it must inflict irreparable injury upon Mr. Billson, whom I have always +esteemed and respected until now, and in whose invulnerability to temptation +I entirely believed—as did you all. But for the preservation +of my own honour I must speak—and with frankness. I confess +with shame—and I now beseech your pardon for it—that I said +to the ruined stranger all of the words contained in the test-remark, +including the disparaging fifteen. [Sensation.] When the +late publication was made I recalled them, and I resolved to claim the +sack of coin, for by every right I was entitled to it. Now I will +ask you to consider this point, and weigh it well; that stranger’s +gratitude to me that night knew no bounds; he said himself that he could +find no words for it that were adequate, and that if he should ever +be able he would repay me a thousandfold. Now, then, I ask you +this; could I expect—could I believe—could I even remotely +imagine—that, feeling as he did, he would do so ungrateful a thing +as to add those quite unnecessary fifteen words to his test?—set +a trap for me?—expose me as a slanderer of my own town before +my own people assembled in a public hall? It was preposterous; +it was impossible. His test would contain only the kindly opening +clause of my remark. Of that I had no shadow of doubt. You +would have thought as I did. You would not have expected a base +betrayal from one whom you had befriended and against whom you had committed +no offence. And so with perfect confidence, perfect trust, I wrote +on a piece of paper the opening words—ending with “Go, and +reform,”—and signed it. When I was about to put it +in an envelope I was called into my back office, and without thinking +I left the paper lying open on my desk.” He stopped, turned +his head slowly toward Billson, waited a moment, then added: “I +ask you to note this; when I returned, a little latter, Mr. Billson +was retiring by my street door.” [Sensation.]</p> +<p>In a moment Billson was on his feet and shouting:</p> +<p>“It’s a lie! It’s an infamous lie!”</p> +<p>The Chair. “Be seated, sir! Mr. Wilson has the +floor.”</p> +<p>Billson’s friends pulled him into his seat and quieted him, +and Wilson went on:</p> +<p>“Those are the simple facts. My note was now lying in +a different place on the table from where I had left it. I noticed +that, but attached no importance to it, thinking a draught had blown +it there. That Mr. Billson would read a private paper was a thing +which could not occur to me; he was an honourable man, and he would +be above that. If you will allow me to say it, I think his extra +word ‘<i>very</i>’ stands explained: it is attributable +to a defect of memory. I was the only man in the world who could +furnish here any detail of the test-mark—by <i>honourable</i> +means. I have finished.”</p> +<p>There is nothing in the world like a persuasive speech to fuddle +the mental apparatus and upset the convictions and debauch the emotions +of an audience not practised in the tricks and delusions of oratory. +Wilson sat down victorious. The house submerged him in tides of +approving applause; friends swarmed to him and shook him by the hand +and congratulated him, and Billson was shouted down and not allowed +to say a word. The Chair hammered and hammered with its gavel, +and kept shouting:</p> +<p>“But let us proceed, gentlemen, let us proceed!”</p> +<p>At last there was a measurable degree of quiet, and the hatter said:</p> +<p>“But what is there to proceed with, sir, but to deliver the +money?”</p> +<p>Voices. “That’s it! That’s it! +Come forward, Wilson!”</p> +<p>The Hatter. “I move three cheers for Mr. Wilson, Symbol +of the special virtue which—”</p> +<p>The cheers burst forth before he could finish; and in the midst of +them—and in the midst of the clamour of the gavel also—some +enthusiasts mounted Wilson on a big friend’s shoulder and were +going to fetch him in triumph to the platform. The Chair’s +voice now rose above the noise:</p> +<p>“Order! To your places! You forget that there is +still a document to be read.” When quiet had been restored +he took up the document, and was going to read it, but laid it down +again saying “I forgot; this is not to be read until all written +communications received by me have first been read.” He +took an envelope out of his pocket, removed its enclosure, glanced at +it—seemed astonished—held it out and gazed at it—stared +at it.</p> +<p>Twenty or thirty voices cried out</p> +<p>“What is it? Read it! read it!”</p> +<p>And he did—slowly, and wondering:</p> +<p>“‘The remark which I made to the stranger—[Voices. +“Hello! how’s this?”]—was this: ‘You are +far from being a bad man. [Voices. “Great Scott!”] +Go, and reform.’” [Voice. “Oh, saw my +leg off!”] Signed by Mr. Pinkerton the banker.”</p> +<p>The pandemonium of delight which turned itself loose now was of a +sort to make the judicious weep. Those whose withers were unwrung +laughed till the tears ran down; the reporters, in throes of laughter, +set down disordered pot-hooks which would never in the world be decipherable; +and a sleeping dog jumped up scared out of its wits, and barked itself +crazy at the turmoil. All manner of cries were scattered through +the din: “We’re getting rich—<i>two</i> Symbols of +Incorruptibility!—without counting Billson!” “<i>Three</i>!—count +Shadbelly in—we can’t have too many!” “All +right—Billson’s elected!” “Alas, poor +Wilson! victim of <i>two</i> thieves!”</p> +<p>A Powerful Voice. “Silence! The Chair’s fished +up something more out of its pocket.”</p> +<p>Voices. “Hurrah! Is it something fresh? Read +it! read! read!”</p> +<p>The Chair [reading]. “‘The remark which I made,’ +etc. ‘You are far from being a bad man. Go,’ +etc. Signed, ‘Gregory Yates.’”</p> +<p>Tornado of Voices. “Four Symbols!” “’Rah +for Yates!” “Fish again!”</p> +<p>The house was in a roaring humour now, and ready to get all the fun +out of the occasion that might be in it. Several Nineteeners, +looking pale and distressed, got up and began to work their way towards +the aisles, but a score of shouts went up:</p> +<p>“The doors, the doors—close the doors; no Incorruptible +shall leave this place! Sit down, everybody!” The +mandate was obeyed.</p> +<p>“Fish again! Read! read!”</p> +<p>The Chair fished again, and once more the familiar words began to +fall from its lips—“‘You are far from being a bad +man—’”</p> +<p>“Name! name! What’s his name?”</p> +<p>“‘L. Ingoldsby Sargent.’”</p> +<p>“Five elected! Pile up the Symbols! Go on, go on!”</p> +<p>“‘You are far from being a bad—’”</p> +<p>“Name! name!”</p> +<p>“‘Nicholas Whitworth.’”</p> +<p>“Hooray! hooray! it’s a symbolical day!”</p> +<p>Somebody wailed in, and began to sing this rhyme (leaving out “it’s”) +to the lovely “Mikado” tune of “When a man’s +afraid of a beautiful maid;” the audience joined in, with joy; +then, just in time, somebody contributed another line—</p> +<blockquote><p>“And don’t you this forget—”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The house roared it out. A third line was at once furnished—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Corruptibles far from Hadleyburg are—”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The house roared that one too. As the last note died, Jack +Halliday’s voice rose high and clear, freighted with a final line—</p> +<blockquote><p>“But the Symbols are here, you bet!”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>That was sung, with booming enthusiasm. Then the happy house +started in at the beginning and sang the four lines through twice, with +immense swing and dash, and finished up with a crashing three-times-three +and a tiger for “Hadleyburg the Incorruptible and all Symbols +of it which we shall find worthy to receive the hall-mark to-night.”</p> +<p>Then the shoutings at the Chair began again, all over the place:</p> +<p>“Go on! go on! Read! read some more! Read all you’ve +got!”</p> +<p>“That’s it—go on! We are winning eternal +celebrity!”</p> +<p>A dozen men got up now and began to protest. They said that +this farce was the work of some abandoned joker, and was an insult to +the whole community. Without a doubt these signatures were all +forgeries—</p> +<p>“Sit down! sit down! Shut up! You are confessing. +We’ll find your names in the lot.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Chairman, how many of those envelopes have you got?”</p> +<p>The Chair counted.</p> +<p>“Together with those that have been already examined, there +are nineteen.”</p> +<p>A storm of derisive applause broke out.</p> +<p>“Perhaps they all contain the secret. I move that you +open them all and read every signature that is attached to a note of +that sort—and read also the first eight words of the note.”</p> +<p>“Second the motion!”</p> +<p>It was put and carried—uproariously. Then poor old Richards +got up, and his wife rose and stood at his side. Her head was +bent down, so that none might see that she was crying. Her husband +gave her his arm, and so supporting her, he began to speak in a quavering +voice:</p> +<p>“My friends, you have known us two—Mary and me—all +our lives, and I think you have liked us and respected us—”</p> +<p>The Chair interrupted him:</p> +<p>“Allow me. It is quite true—that which you are +saying, Mr. Richards; this town <i>does</i> know you two; it <i>does</i> +like you; it <i>does</i> respect you; more—it honours you and +<i>loves</i> you—”</p> +<p>Halliday’s voice rang out:</p> +<p>“That’s the hall-marked truth, too! If the Chair +is right, let the house speak up and say it. Rise! Now, +then—hip! hip! hip!—all together!”</p> +<p>The house rose in mass, faced toward the old couple eagerly, filled +the air with a snow-storm of waving handkerchiefs, and delivered the +cheers with all its affectionate heart.</p> +<p>The Chair then continued:</p> +<p>“What I was going to say is this: We know your good heart, +Mr. Richards, but this is not a time for the exercise of charity toward +offenders. [Shouts of “Right! right!”] I see +your generous purpose in your face, but I cannot allow you to plead +for these men—”</p> +<p>“But I was going to—”</p> +<p>“Please take your seat, Mr. Richards. We must examine +the rest of these notes—simple fairness to the men who have already +been exposed requires this. As soon as that has been done—I +give you my word for this—you shall he heard.”</p> +<p>Many voices. “Right!—the Chair is right—no +interruption can be permitted at this stage! Go on!—the +names! the names!—according to the terms of the motion!”</p> +<p>The old couple sat reluctantly down, and the husband whispered to +the wife, “It is pitifully hard to have to wait; the shame will +be greater than ever when they find we were only going to plead for +<i>ourselves</i>.”</p> +<p>Straightway the jollity broke loose again with the reading of the +names.</p> +<p>“‘You are far from being a bad man—’ Signature, +‘Robert J. Titmarsh.’”</p> +<p>“‘You are far from being a bad man—’ Signature, +‘Eliphalet Weeks.’”</p> +<p>“‘You are far from being a bad man—’ Signature, +‘Oscar B. Wilder.’”</p> +<p>At this point the house lit upon the idea of taking the eight words +out of the Chairman’s hands. He was not unthankful for that. +Thenceforward he held up each note in its turn and waited. The +house droned out the eight words in a massed and measured and musical +deep volume of sound (with a daringly close resemblance to a well-known +church chant)—“You are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-a-d man.” +Then the Chair said, “Signature, ‘Archibald Wilcox.’” +And so on, and so on, name after name, and everybody had an increasingly +and gloriously good time except the wretched Nineteen. Now and +then, when a particularly shining name was called, the house made the +Chair wait while it chanted the whole of the test-remark from the beginning +to the closing words, “And go to hell or Hadleyburg—try +and make it the for-or-m-e-r!” and in these special cases they +added a grand and agonised and imposing “A-a-a-a-<i>men</i>!”</p> +<p>The list dwindled, dwindled, dwindled, poor old Richards keeping +tally of the count, wincing when a name resembling his own was pronounced, +and waiting in miserable suspense for the time to come when it would +be his humiliating privilege to rise with Mary and finish his plea, +which he was intending to word thus: “... for until now we have +never done any wrong thing, but have gone our humble way unreproached. +We are very poor, we are old, and, have no chick nor child to help us; +we were sorely tempted, and we fell. It was my purpose when I +got up before to make confession and beg that my name might not be read +out in this public place, for it seemed to us that we could not bear +it; but I was prevented. It was just; it was our place to suffer +with the rest. It has been hard for us. It is the first +time we have ever heard our name fall from any one’s lips—sullied. +Be merciful—for the sake or the better days; make our shame as +light to bear as in your charity you can.” At this point +in his reverie Mary nudged him, perceiving that his mind was absent. +The house was chanting, “You are f-a-r,” etc.</p> +<p>“Be ready,” Mary whispered. “Your name comes +now; he has read eighteen.”</p> +<p>The chant ended.</p> +<p>“Next! next! next!” came volleying from all over the +house.</p> +<p>Burgess put his hand into his pocket. The old couple, trembling, +began to rise. Burgess fumbled a moment, then said:</p> +<p>“I find I have read them all.”</p> +<p>Faint with joy and surprise, the couple sank into their seats, and +Mary whispered:</p> +<p>“Oh, bless God, we are saved!—he has lost ours—I +wouldn’t give this for a hundred of those sacks!”</p> +<p>The house burst out with its “Mikado” travesty, and sang +it three times with ever-increasing enthusiasm, rising to its feet when +it reached for the third time the closing line—</p> +<blockquote><p>“But the Symbols are here, you bet!”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>and finishing up with cheers and a tiger for “Hadleyburg purity +and our eighteen immortal representatives of it.”</p> +<p>Then Wingate, the saddler, got up and proposed cheers “for +the cleanest man in town, the one solitary important citizen in it who +didn’t try to steal that money—Edward Richards.”</p> +<p>They were given with great and moving heartiness; then somebody proposed +that “Richards be elected sole Guardian and Symbol of the now +Sacred Hadleyburg Tradition, with power and right to stand up and look +the whole sarcastic world in the face.”</p> +<p>Passed, by acclamation; then they sang the “Mikado” again, +and ended it with—</p> +<blockquote><p>“And there’s <i>one</i> Symbol left, you +bet!”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>There was a pause; then—</p> +<p>A Voice. “Now, then, who’s to get the sack?”</p> +<p>The Tanner (with bitter sarcasm). “That’s easy. +The money has to be divided among the eighteen Incorruptibles. +They gave the suffering stranger twenty dollars apiece—and that +remark—each in his turn—it took twenty-two minutes for the +procession to move past. Staked the stranger—total contribution, +$360. All they want is just the loan back—and interest—forty +thousand dollars altogether.”</p> +<p>Many Voices [derisively.] “That’s it! Divvy! +divvy! Be kind to the poor—don’t keep them waiting!”</p> +<p>The Chair. “Order! I now offer the stranger’s +remaining document. It says: ‘If no claimant shall appear +[grand chorus of groans], I desire that you open the sack and count +out the money to the principal citizens of your town, they to take it +in trust [Cries of “Oh! Oh! Oh!”], and use it in such ways +as to them shall seem best for the propagation and preservation of your +community’s noble reputation for incorruptible honesty [more cries]—a +reputation to which their names and their efforts will add a new and +far-reaching lustre.” [Enthusiastic outburst of sarcastic +applause.] That seems to be all. No—here is a postscript:</p> +<p>“‘P.S.—CITIZENS OF HADLEYBURG: There <i>is</i> +no test-remark—nobody made one. [Great sensation.] +There wasn’t any pauper stranger, nor any twenty-dollar contribution, +nor any accompanying benediction and compliment—these are all +inventions. [General buzz and hum of astonishment and delight.] +Allow me to tell my story—it will take but a word or two. +I passed through your town at a certain time, and received a deep offence +which I had not earned. Any other man would have been content +to kill one or two of you and call it square, but to me that would have +been a trivial revenge, and inadequate; for the dead do not <i>suffer</i>. +Besides I could not kill you all—and, anyway, made as I am, even +that would not have satisfied me. I wanted to damage every man +in the place, and every woman—and not in their bodies or in their +estate, but in their vanity—the place where feeble and foolish +people are most vulnerable. So I disguised myself and came back +and studied you. You were easy game. You had an old and +lofty reputation for honesty, and naturally you were proud of it—it +was your treasure of treasures, the very apple of your eye. As +soon as I found out that you carefully and vigilantly kept yourselves +and your children <i>out of temptation</i>, I knew how to proceed. +Why, you simple creatures, the weakest of all weak things is a virtue +which has not been tested in the fire. I laid a plan, and gathered +a list of names. My project was to corrupt Hadleyburg the Incorruptible. +My idea was to make liars and thieves of nearly half a hundred smirchless +men and women who had never in their lives uttered a lie or stolen a +penny. I was afraid of Goodson. He was neither born nor +reared in Hadleyburg. I was afraid that if I started to operate +my scheme by getting my letter laid before you, you would say to yourselves, +‘Goodson is the only man among us who would give away twenty dollars +to a poor devil’—and then you might not bite at my bait. +But heaven took Goodson; then I knew I was safe, and I set my trap and +baited it. It may be that I shall not catch all the men to whom +I mailed the pretended test-secret, but I shall catch the most of them, +if I know Hadleyburg nature. [Voices. “Right—he +got every last one of them.”] I believe they will even steal +ostensible <i>gamble</i>-money, rather than miss, poor, tempted, and +mistrained fellows. I am hoping to eternally and everlastingly +squelch your vanity and give Hadleyburg a new renown—one that +will <i>stick</i>—and spread far. If I have succeeded, open +the sack and summon the Committee on Propagation and Preservation of +the Hadleyburg Reputation.’”</p> +<p>A Cyclone of Voices. “Open it! Open it! The +Eighteen to the front! Committee on Propagation of the Tradition! +Forward—the Incorruptibles!”</p> +<p>The Chair ripped the sack wide, and gathered up a handful of bright, +broad, yellow coins, shook them together, then examined them.</p> +<p>“Friends, they are only gilded disks of lead!”</p> +<p>There was a crashing outbreak of delight over this news, and when +the noise had subsided, the tanner called out:</p> +<p>“By right of apparent seniority in this business, Mr. Wilson +is Chairman of the Committee on Propagation of the Tradition. +I suggest that he step forward on behalf of his pals, and receive in +trust the money.”</p> +<p>A Hundred Voices. “Wilson! Wilson! Wilson! +Speech! Speech!”</p> +<p>Wilson [in a voice trembling with anger]. “You will allow +me to say, and without apologies for my language, <i>damn</i> the money!”</p> +<p>A Voice. “Oh, and him a Baptist!”</p> +<p>A Voice. “Seventeen Symbols left! Step up, gentlemen, +and assume your trust!”</p> +<p>There was a pause—no response.</p> +<p>The Saddler. “Mr. Chairman, we’ve got <i>one</i> +clean man left, anyway, out of the late aristocracy; and he needs money, +and deserves it. I move that you appoint Jack Halliday to get +up there and auction off that sack of gilt twenty-dollar pieces, and +give the result to the right man—the man whom Hadleyburg delights +to honour—Edward Richards.”</p> +<p>This was received with great enthusiasm, the dog taking a hand again; +the saddler started the bids at a dollar, the Brixton folk and Barnum’s +representative fought hard for it, the people cheered every jump that +the bids made, the excitement climbed moment by moment higher and higher, +the bidders got on their mettle and grew steadily more and more daring, +more and more determined, the jumps went from a dollar up to five, then +to ten, then to twenty, then fifty, then to a hundred, then—</p> +<p>At the beginning of the auction Richards whispered in distress to +his wife: “Oh, Mary, can we allow it? It—it—you +see, it is an honour—reward, a testimonial to purity of character, +and—and—can we allow it? Hadn’t I better get +up and—Oh, Mary, what ought we to do?—what do you think +we—” [Halliday’s voice. “Fifteen I’m +bid!—fifteen for the sack!—twenty!—ah, thanks!—thirty—thanks +again! Thirty, thirty, thirty!—do I hear forty?—forty +it is! Keep the ball rolling, gentlemen, keep it rolling!—fifty!—thanks, +noble Roman!—going at fifty, fifty, fifty!—seventy!—ninety!—splendid!—a +hundred!—pile it up, pile it up!—hundred and twenty—forty!—just +in time!—hundred and fifty!—Two hundred!—superb! +Do I hear two h—thanks!—two hundred and fifty!—”]</p> +<p>“It is another temptation, Edward—I’m all in a +tremble—but, oh, we’ve escaped one temptation, and that +ought to warn us, to—[“Six did I hear?—thanks!—six +fifty, six f—SEVEN hundred!”] And yet, Edward, when +you think—nobody susp—[“Eight hundred dollars!—hurrah!—make +it nine!—Mr. Parsons, did I hear you say—thanks!—nine!—this +noble sack of virgin lead going at only nine hundred dollars, gilding +and all—come! do I hear—a thousand!—gratefully yours!—did +some one say eleven?—a sack which is going to be the most celebrated +in the whole Uni—”] “Oh, Edward” (beginning +to sob), “we are so poor!—but—but—do as you +think best—do as you think best.”</p> +<p>Edward fell—that is, he sat still; sat with a conscience which +was not satisfied, but which was overpowered by circumstances.</p> +<p>Meantime a stranger, who looked like an amateur detective gotten +up as an impossible English earl, had been watching the evening’s +proceedings with manifest interest, and with a contented expression +in his face; and he had been privately commenting to himself. +He was now soliloquising somewhat like this: “None of the Eighteen +are bidding; that is not satisfactory; I must change that—the +dramatic unities require it; they must buy the sack they tried to steal; +they must pay a heavy price, too—some of them are rich. +And another thing, when I make a mistake in Hadleyburg nature the man +that puts that error upon me is entitled to a high honorarium, and some +one must pay. This poor old Richards has brought my judgment to +shame; he is an honest man:—I don’t understand it, but I +acknowledge it. Yes, he saw my deuces—<i>and</i> with a +straight flush, and by rights the pot is his. And it shall be +a jack-pot, too, if I can manage it. He disappointed me, but let +that pass.”</p> +<p>He was watching the bidding. At a thousand, the market broke: +the prices tumbled swiftly. He waited—and still watched. +One competitor dropped out; then another, and another. He put +in a bid or two now. When the bids had sunk to ten dollars, he +added a five; some one raised him a three; he waited a moment, then +flung in a fifty-dollar jump, and the sack was his—at $1,282. +The house broke out in cheers—then stopped; for he was on his +feet, and had lifted his hand. He began to speak.</p> +<p>“I desire to say a word, and ask a favour. I am a speculator +in rarities, and I have dealings with persons interested in numismatics +all over the world. I can make a profit on this purchase, just +as it stands; but there is a way, if I can get your approval, whereby +I can make every one of these leaden twenty-dollar pieces worth its +face in gold, and perhaps more. Grant me that approval, and I +will give part of my gains to your Mr. Richards, whose invulnerable +probity you have so justly and so cordially recognised to-night; his +share shall be ten thousand dollars, and I will hand him the money to-morrow. +[Great applause from the house. But the “invulnerable probity” +made the Richardses blush prettily; however, it went for modesty, and +did no harm.] If you will pass my proposition by a good majority—I +would like a two-thirds vote—I will regard that as the town’s +consent, and that is all I ask. Rarities are always helped by +any device which will rouse curiosity and compel remark. Now if +I may have your permission to stamp upon the faces of each of these +ostensible coins the names of the eighteen gentlemen who—”</p> +<p>Nine-tenths of the audience were on their feet in a moment—dog +and all—and the proposition was carried with a whirlwind of approving +applause and laughter.</p> +<p>They sat down, and all the Symbols except “Dr.” Clay +Harkness got up, violently protesting against the proposed outrage, +and threatening to—</p> +<p>“I beg you not to threaten me,” said the stranger calmly. +“I know my legal rights, and am not accustomed to being frightened +at bluster.” [Applause.] He sat down. “Dr.” +Harkness saw an opportunity here. He was one of the two very rich +men of the place, and Pinkerton was the other. Harkness was proprietor +of a mint; that is to say, a popular patent medicine. He was running +for the Legislature on one ticket, and Pinkerton on the other. +It was a close race and a hot one, and getting hotter every day. +Both had strong appetites for money; each had bought a great tract of +land, with a purpose; there was going to be a new railway, and each +wanted to be in the Legislature and help locate the route to his own +advantage; a single vote might make the decision, and with it two or +three fortunes. The stake was large, and Harkness was a daring +speculator. He was sitting close to the stranger. He leaned +over while one or another of the other Symbols was entertaining the +house with protests and appeals, and asked, in a whisper,</p> +<p>“What is your price for the sack?”</p> +<p>“Forty thousand dollars.”</p> +<p>“I’ll give you twenty.”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“Twenty-five.”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“Say thirty.”</p> +<p>“The price is forty thousand dollars; not a penny less.”</p> +<p>“All right, I’ll give it. I will come to the hotel +at ten in the morning. I don’t want it known; will see you +privately.”</p> +<p>“Very good.” Then the stranger got up and said +to the house:</p> +<p>“I find it late. The speeches of these gentlemen are +not without merit, not without interest, not without grace; yet if I +may be excused I will take my leave. I thank you for the great +favour which you have shown me in granting my petition. I ask +the Chair to keep the sack for me until to-morrow, and to hand these +three five-hundred-dollar notes to Mr. Richards.” They were +passed up to the Chair.</p> +<p>“At nine I will call for the sack, and at eleven will deliver +the rest of the ten thousand to Mr. Richards in person at his home. +Good-night.”</p> +<p>Then he slipped out, and left the audience making a vast noise, which +was composed of a mixture of cheers, the “Mikado” song, +dog-disapproval, and the chant, “You are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-d +man—a-a-a a-men!”</p> +<h2>IV.</h2> +<p>At home the Richardses had to endure congratulations and compliments +until midnight. Then they were left to themselves. They +looked a little sad, and they sat silent and thinking. Finally +Mary sighed and said:</p> +<p>“Do you think we are to blame, Edward—<i>much</i> to +blame?” and her eyes wandered to the accusing triplet of big bank-notes +lying on the table, where the congratulators had been gloating over +them and reverently fingering them. Edward did not answer at once; +then he brought out a sigh and said, hesitatingly:</p> +<p>“We—we couldn’t help it, Mary. It—well +it was ordered. <i>All</i> things are.”</p> +<p>Mary glanced up and looked at him steadily, but he didn’t return +the look. Presently she said:</p> +<p>“I thought congratulations and praises always tasted good. +But—it seems to me, now—Edward?”</p> +<p>“Well?”</p> +<p>“Are you going to stay in the bank?”</p> +<p>“N—no.”</p> +<p>“Resign?”</p> +<p>“In the morning—by note.”</p> +<p>“It does seem best.”</p> +<p>Richards bowed his head in his hands and muttered:</p> +<p>“Before I was not afraid to let oceans of people’s money +pour through my hands, but—Mary, I am so tired, so tired—”</p> +<p>“We will go to bed.”</p> +<p>At nine in the morning the stranger called for the sack and took +it to the hotel in a cab. At ten Harkness had a talk with him +privately. The stranger asked for and got five cheques on a metropolitan +bank—drawn to “Bearer,”—four for $1,500 each, +and one for $34,000. He put one of the former in his pocket-book, +and the remainder, representing $38,500, he put in an envelope, and +with these he added a note which he wrote after Harkness was gone. +At eleven he called at the Richards’ house and knocked. +Mrs. Richards peeped through the shutters, then went and received the +envelope, and the stranger disappeared without a word. She came +back flushed and a little unsteady on her legs, and gasped out:</p> +<p>“I am sure I recognised him! Last night it seemed to +me that maybe I had seen him somewhere before.”</p> +<p>“He is the man that brought the sack here?”</p> +<p>“I am almost sure of it.”</p> +<p>“Then he is the ostensible Stephenson too, and sold every important +citizen in this town with his bogus secret. Now if he has sent +cheques instead of money, we are sold too, after we thought we had escaped. +I was beginning to feel fairly comfortable once more, after my night’s +rest, but the look of that envelope makes me sick. It isn’t +fat enough; $8,500 in even the largest bank-notes makes more bulk than +that.”</p> +<p>“Edward, why do you object to cheques?”</p> +<p>“Cheques signed by Stephenson! I am resigned to take +the $8,500 if it could come in bank-notes—for it does seem that +it was so ordered, Mary—but I have never had much courage, and +I have not the pluck to try to market a cheque signed with that disastrous +name. It would be a trap. That man tried to catch me; we +escaped somehow or other; and now he is trying a new way. If it +is cheques—”</p> +<p>“Oh, Edward, it is <i>too</i> bad!” And she held +up the cheques and began to cry.</p> +<p>“Put them in the fire! quick! we mustn’t be tempted. +It is a trick to make the world laugh at <i>us</i>, along with the rest, +and—Give them to <i>me</i>, since you can’t do it!” +He snatched them and tried to hold his grip till he could get to the +stove; but he was human, he was a cashier, and he stopped a moment to +make sure of the signature. Then he came near to fainting.</p> +<p>“Fan me, Mary, fan me! They are the same as gold!”</p> +<p>“Oh, how lovely, Edward! Why?”</p> +<p>“Signed by Harkness. What can the mystery of that be, +Mary?”</p> +<p>“Edward, do you think—”</p> +<p>“Look here—look at this! Fifteen—fifteen—fifteen—thirty-four. +Thirty-eight thousand five hundred! Mary, the sack isn’t +worth twelve dollars, and Harkness—apparently—has paid about +par for it.”</p> +<p>“And does it all come to us, do you think—instead of +the ten thousand?”</p> +<p>“Why, it looks like it. And the cheques are made to ‘Bearer,’ +too.”</p> +<p>“Is that good, Edward? What is it for?”</p> +<p>“A hint to collect them at some distant bank, I reckon. +Perhaps Harkness doesn’t want the matter known. What is +that—a note?”</p> +<p>“Yes. It was with the cheques.”</p> +<p>It was in the “Stephenson” handwriting, but there was +no signature. It said:</p> +<blockquote><p>“I am a disappointed man. Your honesty is +beyond the reach of temptation. I had a different idea about it, +but I wronged you in that, and I beg pardon, and do it sincerely. +I honour you—and that is sincere too. This town is not worthy +to kiss the hem of your garment. Dear sir, I made a square bet +with myself that there were nineteen debauchable men in your self-righteous +community. I have lost. Take the whole pot, you are entitled +to it.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Richards drew a deep sigh, and said:</p> +<p>“It seems written with fire—it burns so. Mary—I +am miserable again.”</p> +<p>“I, too. Ah, dear, I wish—”</p> +<p>“To think, Mary—he <i>believes</i> in me.”<br> +</p> +<p>“Oh, don’t, Edward—I can’t bear it.”</p> +<p>“If those beautiful words were deserved, Mary—and God +knows I believed I deserved them once—I think I could give the +forty thousand dollars for them. And I would put that paper away, +as representing more than gold and jewels, and keep it always. +But now—We could not live in the shadow of its accusing presence, +Mary.”</p> +<p>He put it in the fire.</p> +<p>A messenger arrived and delivered an envelope. Richards took +from it a note and read it; it was from Burgess:</p> +<blockquote><p>“You saved me, in a difficult time. I saved +you last night. It was at cost of a lie, but I made the sacrifice +freely, and out of a grateful heart. None in this village knows +so well as I know how brave and good and noble you are. At bottom +you cannot respect me, knowing as you do of that matter of which I am +accused, and by the general voice condemned; but I beg that you will +at least believe that I am a grateful man; it will help me to bear my +burden. [Signed] ‘BURGESS.’”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Saved, once more. And on such terms!” He +put the note in the fire. “I—I wish I were dead, Mary, +I wish I were out of it all!”</p> +<p>“Oh, these are bitter, bitter days, Edward. The stabs, +through their very generosity, are so deep—and they come so fast!”</p> +<p>Three days before the election each of two thousand voters suddenly +found himself in possession of a prized memento—one of the renowned +bogus double-eagles. Around one of its faces was stamped these +words: “THE REMARK I MADE TO THE POOR STRANGER WAS—” +Around the other face was stamped these: “GO, AND REFORM. +[SIGNED] PINKERTON.” Thus the entire remaining refuse of +the renowned joke was emptied upon a single head, and with calamitous +effect. It revived the recent vast laugh and concentrated it upon +Pinkerton; and Harkness’s election was a walk-over.</p> +<p>Within twenty-four hours after the Richardses had received their +cheques their consciences were quieting down, discouraged; the old couple +were learning to reconcile themselves to the sin which they had committed. +But they were to learn, now, that a sin takes on new and real terrors +when there seems a chance that it is going to be found out. This +gives it a fresh and most substantial and important aspect. At +church the morning sermon was of the usual pattern; it was the same +old things said in the same old way; they had heard them a thousand +times and found them innocuous, next to meaningless, and easy to sleep +under; but now it was different: the sermon seemed to bristle with accusations; +it seemed aimed straight and specially at people who were concealing +deadly sins. After church they got away from the mob of congratulators +as soon as they could, and hurried homeward, chilled to the bone at +they did not know what—vague, shadowy, indefinite fears. +And by chance they caught a glimpse of Mr. Burgess as he turned a corner. +He paid no attention to their nod of recognition! He hadn’t +seen it; but they did not know that. What could his conduct mean? +It might mean—it might—mean—oh, a dozen dreadful things. +Was it possible that he knew that Richards could have cleared him of +guilt in that bygone time, and had been silently waiting for a chance +to even up accounts? At home, in their distress they got to imagining +that their servant might have been in the next room listening when Richards +revealed the secret to his wife that he knew of Burgess’s innocence; +next Richards began to imagine that he had heard the swish of a gown +in there at that time; next, he was sure he <i>had</i> heard it. +They would call Sarah in, on a pretext, and watch her face; if she had +been betraying them to Mr. Burgess, it would show in her manner. +They asked her some questions—questions which were so random and +incoherent and seemingly purposeless that the girl felt sure that the +old people’s minds had been affected by their sudden good fortune; +the sharp and watchful gaze which they bent upon her frightened her, +and that completed the business. She blushed, she became nervous +and confused, and to the old people these were plain signs of guilt—guilt +of some fearful sort or other—without doubt she was a spy and +a traitor. When they were alone again they began to piece many +unrelated things together and get horrible results out of the combination. +When things had got about to the worst Richards was delivered of a sudden +gasp and his wife asked:</p> +<p>“Oh, what is it?—what is it?”</p> +<p>“The note—Burgess’s note! Its language was +sarcastic, I see it now.” He quoted: “‘At bottom +you cannot respect me, <i>knowing</i>, as you do, of <i>that matter +of</i> which I am accused’—oh, it is perfectly plain, now, +God help me! He knows that I know! You see the ingenuity +of the phrasing. It was a trap—and like a fool, I walked +into it. And Mary—!”</p> +<p>“Oh, it is dreadful—I know what you are going to say—he +didn’t return your transcript of the pretended test-remark.”</p> +<p>“No—kept it to destroy us with. Mary, he has exposed +us to some already. I know it—I know it well. I saw +it in a dozen faces after church. Ah, he wouldn’t answer +our nod of recognition—he knew what he had been doing!”</p> +<p>In the night the doctor was called. The news went around in +the morning that the old couple were rather seriously ill—prostrated +by the exhausting excitement growing out of their great windfall, the +congratulations, and the late hours, the doctor said. The town +was sincerely distressed; for these old people were about all it had +left to be proud of, now.</p> +<p>Two days later the news was worse. The old couple were delirious, +and were doing strange things. By witness of the nurses, Richards +had exhibited cheques—for $8,500? No—for an amazing +sum—$38,500! What could be the explanation of this gigantic +piece of luck?</p> +<p>The following day the nurses had more news—and wonderful. +They had concluded to hide the cheques, lest harm come to them; but +when they searched they were gone from under the patient’s pillow—vanished +away. The patient said:</p> +<p>“Let the pillow alone; what do you want?”</p> +<p>“We thought it best that the cheques—”</p> +<p>“You will never see them again—they are destroyed. +They came from Satan. I saw the hell-brand on them, and I knew +they were sent to betray me to sin.” Then he fell to gabbling +strange and dreadful things which were not clearly understandable, and +which the doctor admonished them to keep to themselves.</p> +<p>Richards was right; the cheques were never seen again.</p> +<p>A nurse must have talked in her sleep, for within two days the forbidden +gabblings were the property of the town; and they were of a surprising +sort. They seemed to indicate that Richards had been a claimant +for the sack himself, and that Burgess had concealed that fact and then +maliciously betrayed it.</p> +<p>Burgess was taxed with this and stoutly denied it. And he said +it was not fair to attach weight to the chatter of a sick old man who +was out of his mind. Still, suspicion was in the air, and there +was much talk.</p> +<p>After a day or two it was reported that Mrs. Richards’s delirious +deliveries were getting to be duplicates of her husband’s. +Suspicion flamed up into conviction, now, and the town’s pride +in the purity of its one undiscredited important citizen began to dim +down and flicker toward extinction.</p> +<p>Six days passed, then came more news. The old couple were dying. +Richards’s mind cleared in his latest hour, and he sent for Burgess. +Burgess said:</p> +<p>“Let the room be cleared. I think he wishes to say something +in privacy.”</p> +<p>“No!” said Richards; “I want witnesses. I +want you all to hear my confession, so that I may die a man, and not +a dog. I was clean—artificially—like the rest; and +like the rest I fell when temptation came. I signed a lie, and +claimed the miserable sack. Mr. Burgess remembered that I had +done him a service, and in gratitude (and ignorance) he suppressed my +claim and saved me. You know the thing that was charged against +Burgess years ago. My testimony, and mine alone, could have cleared +him, and I was a coward and left him to suffer disgrace—”</p> +<p>“No—no—Mr. Richards, you—”</p> +<p>“My servant betrayed my secret to him—”</p> +<p>“No one has betrayed anything to me—”</p> +<p>—“And then he did a natural and justifiable thing; he +repented of the saving kindness which he had done me, and he <i>exposed</i> +me—as I deserved—”</p> +<p>“Never!—I make oath—”</p> +<p>“Out of my heart I forgive him.”</p> +<p>Burgess’s impassioned protestations fell upon deaf ears; the +dying man passed away without knowing that once more he had done poor +Burgess a wrong. The old wife died that night.</p> +<p>The last of the sacred Nineteen had fallen a prey to the fiendish +sack; the town was stripped of the last rag of its ancient glory. +Its mourning was not showy, but it was deep.</p> +<p>By act of the Legislature—upon prayer and petition—Hadleyburg +was allowed to change its name to (never mind what—I will not +give it away), and leave one word out of the motto that for many generations +had graced the town’s official seal.</p> +<p>It is an honest town once more, and the man will have to rise early +that catches it napping again.</p> + + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1213 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/old/1213-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/1213-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..636cd00 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1213-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/old/old/1213-0.txt b/old/old/1213-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..755bdaf --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/1213-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2465 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg, by +Mark Twain + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg + +Author: Mark Twain + +Release Date: April 1, 2005 [eBook #1213] +Last Updated: August 11, 2023 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk. Transcribed from +the 1907 Chatto & Windus edition + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN THAT CORRUPTED +HADLEYBURG *** + + + + +THE MAN THAT CORRUPTED HADLEYBURG + + +I. + + +It was many years ago. Hadleyburg was the most honest and upright town +in all the region round about. It had kept that reputation unsmirched +during three generations, and was prouder of it than of any other of its +possessions. It was so proud of it, and so anxious to insure its +perpetuation, that it began to teach the principles of honest dealing to +its babies in the cradle, and made the like teachings the staple of +their culture thenceforward through all the years devoted to their +education. Also, throughout the formative years temptations were kept +out of the way of the young people, so that their honesty could have +every chance to harden and solidify, and become a part of their very +bone. The neighbouring towns were jealous of this honourable supremacy, +and affected to sneer at Hadleyburg’s pride in it and call it vanity; +but all the same they were obliged to acknowledge that Hadleyburg was in +reality an incorruptible town; and if pressed they would also +acknowledge that the mere fact that a young man hailed from Hadleyburg +was all the recommendation he needed when he went forth from his natal +town to seek for responsible employment. + +But at last, in the drift of time, Hadleyburg had the ill luck to offend +a passing stranger--possibly without knowing it, certainly without +caring, for Hadleyburg was sufficient unto itself, and cared not a rap +for strangers or their opinions. Still, it would have been well to make +an exception in this one’s case, for he was a bitter man, and +revengeful. All through his wanderings during a whole year he kept his +injury in mind, and gave all his leisure moments to trying to invent a +compensating satisfaction for it. He contrived many plans, and all of +them were good, but none of them was quite sweeping enough: the poorest +of them would hurt a great many individuals, but what he wanted was a +plan which would comprehend the entire town, and not let so much as one +person escape unhurt. At last he had a fortunate idea, and when it fell +into his brain it lit up his whole head with an evil joy. He began to +form a plan at once, saying to himself “That is the thing to do--I will +corrupt the town.” + +Six months later he went to Hadleyburg, and arrived in a buggy at the +house of the old cashier of the bank about ten at night. He got a sack +out of the buggy, shouldered it, and staggered with it through the +cottage yard, and knocked at the door. A woman’s voice said “Come in,” +and he entered, and set his sack behind the stove in the parlour, saying +politely to the old lady who sat reading the “Missionary Herald” by the +lamp: + +“Pray keep your seat, madam, I will not disturb you. There--now it is +pretty well concealed; one would hardly know it was there. Can I see +your husband a moment, madam?” + +No, he was gone to Brixton, and might not return before morning. + +“Very well, madam, it is no matter. I merely wanted to leave that sack +in his care, to be delivered to the rightful owner when he shall be +found. I am a stranger; he does not know me; I am merely passing through +the town to-night to discharge a matter which has been long in my mind. +My errand is now completed, and I go pleased and a little proud, and you +will never see me again. There is a paper attached to the sack which +will explain everything. Good-night, madam.” + +The old lady was afraid of the mysterious big stranger, and was glad to +see him go. But her curiosity was roused, and she went straight to the +sack and brought away the paper. It began as follows: + + “TO BE PUBLISHED, or, the right man sought out by private + inquiry--either will answer. This sack contains gold coin weighing a + hundred and sixty pounds four ounces--” + +“Mercy on us, and the door not locked!” + +Mrs. Richards flew to it all in a tremble and locked it, then pulled down +the window-shades and stood frightened, worried, and wondering if there +was anything else she could do toward making herself and the money more +safe. She listened awhile for burglars, then surrendered to curiosity, +and went back to the lamp and finished reading the paper: + + “I am a foreigner, and am presently going back to my own country, to + remain there permanently. I am grateful to America for what I have + received at her hands during my long stay under her flag; and to one + of her citizens--a citizen of Hadleyburg--I am especially grateful for + a great kindness done me a year or two ago. Two great kindnesses in + fact. I will explain. I was a gambler. I say I WAS. I was a ruined + gambler. I arrived in this village at night, hungry and without a + penny. I asked for help--in the dark; I was ashamed to beg in the + light. I begged of the right man. He gave me twenty dollars--that is + to say, he gave me life, as I considered it. He also gave me fortune; + for out of that money I have made myself rich at the gaming-table. And + finally, a remark which he made to me has remained with me to this + day, and has at last conquered me; and in conquering has saved the + remnant of my morals: I shall gamble no more. Now I have no idea who + that man was, but I want him found, and I want him to have this money, + to give away, throw away, or keep, as he pleases. It is merely my way + of testifying my gratitude to him. If I could stay, I would find him + myself; but no matter, he will be found. This is an honest town, an + incorruptible town, and I know I can trust it without fear. This man + can be identified by the remark which he made to me; I feel persuaded + that he will remember it. + + “And now my plan is this: If you prefer to conduct the inquiry + privately, do so. Tell the contents of this present writing to any + one who is likely to be the right man. If he shall answer, ‘I am the + man; the remark I made was so-and-so,’ apply the test--to wit: open + the sack, and in it you will find a sealed envelope containing that + remark. If the remark mentioned by the candidate tallies with it, + give him the money, and ask no further questions, for he is certainly + the right man. + + “But if you shall prefer a public inquiry, then publish this present + writing in the local paper--with these instructions added, to wit: + Thirty days from now, let the candidate appear at the town-hall at + eight in the evening (Friday), and hand his remark, in a sealed + envelope, to the Rev. Mr. Burgess (if he will be kind enough to act); + and let Mr. Burgess there and then destroy the seals of the sack, open + it, and see if the remark is correct: if correct, let the money be + delivered, with my sincere gratitude, to my benefactor thus + identified.” + +Mrs. Richards sat down, gently quivering with excitement, and was soon +lost in thinkings--after this pattern: “What a strange thing it is! +... And what a fortune for that kind man who set his bread afloat upon +the waters!... If it had only been my husband that did it!--for we are +so poor, so old and poor!...” Then, with a sigh--“But it was not my +Edward; no, it was not he that gave a stranger twenty dollars. It is a +pity too; I see it now...” Then, with a shudder--“But it is _gamblers_’ +money! the wages of sin; we couldn’t take it; we couldn’t touch it. +I don’t like to be near it; it seems a defilement.” She moved to a +farther chair... “I wish Edward would come, and take it to the bank; a +burglar might come at any moment; it is dreadful to be here all alone +with it.” + +At eleven Mr. Richards arrived, and while his wife was saying “I am +_so_ glad you’ve come!” he was saying, “I am so tired--tired clear out; +it is dreadful to be poor, and have to make these dismal journeys at my +time of life. Always at the grind, grind, grind, on a salary--another +man’s slave, and he sitting at home in his slippers, rich and +comfortable.” + +“I am so sorry for you, Edward, you know that; but be comforted; we +have our livelihood; we have our good name--” + +“Yes, Mary, and that is everything. Don’t mind my talk--it’s just a +moment’s irritation and doesn’t mean anything. Kiss me--there, it’s +all gone now, and I am not complaining any more. What have you been +getting? What’s in the sack?” + +Then his wife told him the great secret. It dazed him for a moment; +then he said: + +“It weighs a hundred and sixty pounds? Why, Mary, it’s for-ty thou-sand +dollars--think of it--a whole fortune! Not ten men in this village are +worth that much. Give me the paper.” + +He skimmed through it and said: + +“Isn’t it an adventure! Why, it’s a romance; it’s like the impossible +things one reads about in books, and never sees in life.” He was well +stirred up now; cheerful, even gleeful. He tapped his old wife on the +cheek, and said humorously, “Why, we’re rich, Mary, rich; all we’ve got +to do is to bury the money and burn the papers. If the gambler ever +comes to inquire, we’ll merely look coldly upon him and say: ‘What is +this nonsense you are talking? We have never heard of you and your sack +of gold before;’ and then he would look foolish, and--” + +“And in the meantime, while you are running on with your jokes, the +money is still here, and it is fast getting along toward burglar-time.” + +“True. Very well, what shall we do--make the inquiry private? No, +not that; it would spoil the romance. The public method is better. +Think what a noise it will make! And it will make all the other towns +jealous; for no stranger would trust such a thing to any town but +Hadleyburg, and they know it. It’s a great card for us. I must get to +the printing-office now, or I shall be too late.” + +“But stop--stop--don’t leave me here alone with it, Edward!” + +But he was gone. For only a little while, however. Not far from his +own house he met the editor--proprietor of the paper, and gave him the +document, and said “Here is a good thing for you, Cox--put it in.” + +“It may be too late, Mr. Richards, but I’ll see.” + +At home again, he and his wife sat down to talk the charming mystery +over; they were in no condition for sleep. The first question was, Who +could the citizen have been who gave the stranger the twenty dollars? +It seemed a simple one; both answered it in the same breath-- + +“Barclay Goodson.” + +“Yes,” said Richards, “he could have done it, and it would have been +like him, but there’s not another in the town.” + +“Everybody will grant that, Edward--grant it privately, anyway. +For six months, now, the village has been its own proper self once +more--honest, narrow, self-righteous, and stingy.” + +“It is what he always called it, to the day of his death--said it right +out publicly, too.” + +“Yes, and he was hated for it.” + +“Oh, of course; but he didn’t care. I reckon he was the best-hated man +among us, except the Reverend Burgess.” + +“Well, Burgess deserves it--he will never get another congregation +here. Mean as the town is, it knows how to estimate _him_. Edward, +doesn’t it seem odd that the stranger should appoint Burgess to deliver +the money?” + +“Well, yes--it does. That is--that is--” + +“Why so much that-_is_-ing? Would _you_ select him?” + +“Mary, maybe the stranger knows him better than this village does.” + +“Much _that_ would help Burgess!” + +The husband seemed perplexed for an answer; the wife kept a steady eye +upon him, and waited. Finally Richards said, with the hesitancy of one +who is making a statement which is likely to encounter doubt, + +“Mary, Burgess is not a bad man.” + +His wife was certainly surprised. + +“Nonsense!” she exclaimed. + +“He is not a bad man. I know. The whole of his unpopularity had its +foundation in that one thing--the thing that made so much noise.” + +“That ‘one thing,’ indeed! As if that ‘one thing’ wasn’t enough, all by +itself.” + +“Plenty. Plenty. Only he wasn’t guilty of it.” + +“How you talk! Not guilty of it! Everybody knows he _was_ guilty.” + +“Mary, I give you my word--he was innocent.” + +“I can’t believe it and I don’t. How do you know?” + +“It is a confession. I am ashamed, but I will make it. I was the only +man who knew he was innocent. I could have saved him, and--and--well, +you know how the town was wrought up--I hadn’t the pluck to do it. It +would have turned everybody against me. I felt mean, ever so mean; but +I didn’t dare; I hadn’t the manliness to face that.” + +Mary looked troubled, and for a while was silent. Then she said +stammeringly: + +“I--I don’t think it would have done for you to--to--One +mustn’t--er--public opinion--one has to be so careful--so--” It was +a difficult road, and she got mired; but after a little she got +started again. “It was a great pity, but--Why, we couldn’t afford it, +Edward--we couldn’t indeed. Oh, I wouldn’t have had you do it for +anything!” + +“It would have lost us the good-will of so many people, Mary; and +then--and then--” + +“What troubles me now is, what _he_ thinks of us, Edward.” + +“He? _He_ doesn’t suspect that I could have saved him.” + +“Oh,” exclaimed the wife, in a tone of relief, “I am glad of that. As +long as he doesn’t know that you could have saved him, he--he--well +that makes it a great deal better. Why, I might have known he didn’t +know, because he is always trying to be friendly with us, as little +encouragement as we give him. More than once people have twitted me +with it. There’s the Wilsons, and the Wilcoxes, and the Harknesses, +they take a mean pleasure in saying ‘_Your friend_ Burgess,’ because +they know it pesters me. I wish he wouldn’t persist in liking us so; I +can’t think why he keeps it up.” + +“I can explain it. It’s another confession. When the thing was new and +hot, and the town made a plan to ride him on a rail, my conscience +hurt me so that I couldn’t stand it, and I went privately and gave him +notice, and he got out of the town and stayed out till it was safe to +come back.” + +“Edward! If the town had found it out--” + +“_Don’t_! It scares me yet, to think of it. I repented of it the minute +it was done; and I was even afraid to tell you lest your face might +betray it to somebody. I didn’t sleep any that night, for worrying. But +after a few days I saw that no one was going to suspect me, and after +that I got to feeling glad I did it. And I feel glad yet, Mary--glad +through and through.” + +“So do I, now, for it would have been a dreadful way to treat him. +Yes, I’m glad; for really you did owe him that, you know. But, Edward, +suppose it should come out yet, some day!” + +“It won’t.” + +“Why?” + +“Because everybody thinks it was Goodson.” + +“Of course they would!” + +“Certainly. And of course _he_ didn’t care. They persuaded poor old +Sawlsberry to go and charge it on him, and he went blustering over +there and did it. Goodson looked him over, like as if he was hunting +for a place on him that he could despise the most; then he says, ‘So +you are the Committee of Inquiry, are you?’ Sawlsberry said that was +about what he was. ‘H’m. Do they require particulars, or do you reckon +a kind of a _general_ answer will do?’ ‘If they require particulars, +I will come back, Mr. Goodson; I will take the general answer first.’ +‘Very well, then, tell them to go to hell--I reckon that’s general +enough. And I’ll give you some advice, Sawlsberry; when you come back +for the particulars, fetch a basket to carry what is left of yourself +home in.’” + +“Just like Goodson; it’s got all the marks. He had only one vanity; he +thought he could give advice better than any other person.” + +“It settled the business, and saved us, Mary. The subject was dropped.” + +“Bless you, I’m not doubting _that_.” + +Then they took up the gold-sack mystery again, with strong interest. +Soon the conversation began to suffer breaks--interruptions caused by +absorbed thinkings. The breaks grew more and more frequent. At last +Richards lost himself wholly in thought. He sat long, gazing vacantly +at the floor, and by-and-by he began to punctuate his thoughts with +little nervous movements of his hands that seemed to indicate vexation. +Meantime his wife too had relapsed into a thoughtful silence, and +her movements were beginning to show a troubled discomfort. Finally +Richards got up and strode aimlessly about the room, ploughing his +hands through his hair, much as a somnambulist might do who was having +a bad dream. Then he seemed to arrive at a definite purpose; and +without a word he put on his hat and passed quickly out of the house. +His wife sat brooding, with a drawn face, and did not seem to be aware +that she was alone. Now and then she murmured, “Lead us not into t ... +but--but--we are so poor, so poor!... Lead us not into.... Ah, who +would be hurt by it?--and no one would ever know.... Lead us....” The +voice died out in mumblings. After a little she glanced up and muttered +in a half-frightened, half-glad way-- + +“He is gone! But, oh dear, he may be too late--too late.... Maybe +not--maybe there is still time.” She rose and stood thinking, nervously +clasping and unclasping her hands. A slight shudder shook her frame, +and she said, out of a dry throat, “God forgive me--it’s awful to think +such things--but.... Lord, how we are made--how strangely we are made!” + +She turned the light low, and slipped stealthily over and knelt down by +the sack and felt of its ridgy sides with her hands, and fondled them +lovingly; and there was a gloating light in her poor old eyes. She fell +into fits of absence; and came half out of them at times to mutter “If +we had only waited!--oh, if we had only waited a little, and not been +in such a hurry!” + +Meantime Cox had gone home from his office and told his wife all about +the strange thing that had happened, and they had talked it over +eagerly, and guessed that the late Goodson was the only man in the +town who could have helped a suffering stranger with so noble a sum as +twenty dollars. Then there was a pause, and the two became thoughtful +and silent. And by- and-by nervous and fidgety. At last the wife said, +as if to herself, + +“Nobody knows this secret but the Richardses ... and us ... nobody.” + +The husband came out of his thinkings with a slight start, and gazed +wistfully at his wife, whose face was become very pale; then he +hesitatingly rose, and glanced furtively at his hat, then at his +wife--a sort of mute inquiry. Mrs. Cox swallowed once or twice, with +her hand at her throat, then in place of speech she nodded her head. In +a moment she was alone, and mumbling to herself. + +And now Richards and Cox were hurrying through the deserted streets, +from opposite directions. They met, panting, at the foot of the +printing-office stairs; by the night-light there they read each other’s +face. Cox whispered: + +“Nobody knows about this but us?” + +The whispered answer was: + +“Not a soul--on honour, not a soul!” + +“If it isn’t too late to--” + +The men were starting up-stairs; at this moment they were overtaken by +a boy, and Cox asked, + +“Is that you, Johnny?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“You needn’t ship the early mail--nor _any_ mail; wait till I tell you.” + +“It’s already gone, sir.” + +“_Gone_?” It had the sound of an unspeakable disappointment in it. + +“Yes, sir. Time-table for Brixton and all the towns beyond changed to- +day, sir--had to get the papers in twenty minutes earlier than common. +I had to rush; if I had been two minutes later--” + +The men turned and walked slowly away, not waiting to hear the rest. +Neither of them spoke during ten minutes; then Cox said, in a vexed +tone, + +“What possessed you to be in such a hurry, _I_ can’t make out.” + +The answer was humble enough: + +“I see it now, but somehow I never thought, you know, until it was too +late. But the next time--” + +“Next time be hanged! It won’t come in a thousand years.” + +Then the friends separated without a good-night, and dragged themselves +home with the gait of mortally stricken men. At their homes their wives +sprang up with an eager “Well?”--then saw the answer with their eyes +and sank down sorrowing, without waiting for it to come in words. In +both houses a discussion followed of a heated sort--a new thing; there +had been discussions before, but not heated ones, not ungentle ones. +The discussions to-night were a sort of seeming plagiarisms of each +other. Mrs. Richards said: + +“If you had only waited, Edward--if you had only stopped to think; but +no, you must run straight to the printing-office and spread it all over +the world.” + +“It _said_ publish it.” + +“That is nothing; it also said do it privately, if you liked. There, +now--is that true, or not?” + +“Why, yes--yes, it is true; but when I thought what a stir it would +make, and what a compliment it was to Hadleyburg that a stranger should +trust it so--” + +“Oh, certainly, I know all that; but if you had only stopped to think, +you would have seen that you _couldn’t_ find the right man, because he +is in his grave, and hasn’t left chick nor child nor relation behind +him; and as long as the money went to somebody that awfully needed it, +and nobody would be hurt by it, and--and--” + +She broke down, crying. Her husband tried to think of some comforting +thing to say, and presently came out with this: + +“But after all, Mary, it must be for the best--it must be; we know +that. And we must remember that it was so ordered--” + +“Ordered! Oh, everything’s _ordered_, when a person has to find some +way out when he has been stupid. Just the same, it was _ordered_ +that the money should come to us in this special way, and it was you +that must take it on yourself to go meddling with the designs of +Providence--and who gave you the right? It was wicked, that is what it +was--just blasphemous presumption, and no more becoming to a meek and +humble professor of--” + +“But, Mary, you know how we have been trained all our lives long, like +the whole village, till it is absolutely second nature to us to stop +not a single moment to think when there’s an honest thing to be done--” + +“Oh, I know it, I know it--it’s been one everlasting training and +training and training in honesty--honesty shielded, from the very +cradle, against every possible temptation, and so it’s _artificial_ +honesty, and weak as water when temptation comes, as we have seen +this night. God knows I never had shade nor shadow of a doubt of my +petrified and indestructible honesty until now--and now, under the very +first big and real temptation, I--Edward, it is my belief that this +town’s honesty is as rotten as mine is; as rotten as yours. It is a +mean town, a hard, stingy town, and hasn’t a virtue in the world but +this honesty it is so celebrated for and so conceited about; and so +help me, I do believe that if ever the day comes that its honesty falls +under great temptation, its grand reputation will go to ruin like a +house of cards. There, now, I’ve made confession, and I feel better; I +am a humbug, and I’ve been one all my life, without knowing it. Let no +man call me honest again--I will not have it.” + +“I--Well, Mary, I feel a good deal as you do: I certainly do. It seems +strange, too, so strange. I never could have believed it--never.” + +A long silence followed; both were sunk in thought. At last the wife +looked up and said: + +“I know what you are thinking, Edward.” + +Richards had the embarrassed look of a person who is caught. + +“I am ashamed to confess it, Mary, but--” + +“It’s no matter, Edward, I was thinking the same question myself.” + +“I hope so. State it.” + +“You were thinking, if a body could only guess out _what the remark +was_ that Goodson made to the stranger.” + +“It’s perfectly true. I feel guilty and ashamed. And you?” + +“I’m past it. Let us make a pallet here; we’ve got to stand watch till +the bank vault opens in the morning and admits the sack... Oh dear, oh +dear--if we hadn’t made the mistake!” + +The pallet was made, and Mary said: + +“The open sesame--what could it have been? I do wonder what that remark +could have been. But come; we will get to bed now.” + +“And sleep?” + +“No; think.” + +“Yes; think.” + +By this time the Coxes too had completed their spat and their +reconciliation, and were turning in--to think, to think, and toss, and +fret, and worry over what the remark could possibly have been which +Goodson made to the stranded derelict; that golden remark; that remark +worth forty thousand dollars, cash. + +The reason that the village telegraph-office was open later than +usual that night was this: The foreman of Cox’s paper was the local +representative of the Associated Press. One might say its honorary +representative, for it wasn’t four times a year that he could furnish +thirty words that would be accepted. But this time it was different. +His despatch stating what he had caught got an instant answer: + + “Send the whole thing--all the details--twelve hundred words.” + +A colossal order! The foreman filled the bill; and he was the proudest +man in the State. By breakfast-time the next morning the name of +Hadleyburg the Incorruptible was on every lip in America, from Montreal +to the Gulf, from the glaciers of Alaska to the orange-groves of +Florida; and millions and millions of people were discussing the +stranger and his money-sack, and wondering if the right man would +be found, and hoping some more news about the matter would come +soon--right away. + + + + +II. + + +Hadleyburg village woke up world-celebrated--astonished--happy--vain. +Vain beyond imagination. Its nineteen principal citizens and their +wives went about shaking hands with each other, and beaming, and +smiling, and congratulating, and saying _this_ thing adds a new word to +the dictionary--_Hadleyburg_, synonym for _incorruptible_--destined to +live in dictionaries for ever! And the minor and unimportant citizens +and their wives went around acting in much the same way. Everybody +ran to the bank to see the gold-sack; and before noon grieved and +envious crowds began to flock in from Brixton and all neighbouring +towns; and that afternoon and next day reporters began to arrive from +everywhere to verify the sack and its history and write the whole +thing up anew, and make dashing free-hand pictures of the sack, and +of Richards’s house, and the bank, and the Presbyterian church, and +the Baptist church, and the public square, and the town-hall where the +test would be applied and the money delivered; and damnable portraits +of the Richardses, and Pinkerton the banker, and Cox, and the foreman, +and Reverend Burgess, and the postmaster--and even of Jack Halliday, +who was the loafing, good-natured, no-account, irreverent fisherman, +hunter, boys’ friend, stray-dogs’ friend, typical “Sam Lawson” of the +town. The little mean, smirking, oily Pinkerton showed the sack to all +comers, and rubbed his sleek palms together pleasantly, and enlarged +upon the town’s fine old reputation for honesty and upon this wonderful +endorsement of it, and hoped and believed that the example would now +spread far and wide over the American world, and be epoch-making in the +matter of moral regeneration. And so on, and so on. + +By the end of a week things had quieted down again; the wild +intoxication of pride and joy had sobered to a soft, sweet, silent +delight--a sort of deep, nameless, unutterable content. All faces bore +a look of peaceful, holy happiness. + +Then a change came. It was a gradual change; so gradual that its +beginnings were hardly noticed; maybe were not noticed at all, except +by Jack Halliday, who always noticed everything; and always made fun of +it, too, no matter what it was. He began to throw out chaffing remarks +about people not looking quite so happy as they did a day or two ago; +and next he claimed that the new aspect was deepening to positive +sadness; next, that it was taking on a sick look; and finally he said +that everybody was become so moody, thoughtful, and absent-minded that +he could rob the meanest man in town of a cent out of the bottom of his +breeches pocket and not disturb his reverie. + +At this stage--or at about this stage--a saying like this was dropped +at bedtime--with a sigh, usually--by the head of each of the nineteen +principal households: + +“Ah, what _could_ have been the remark that Goodson made?” + +And straightway--with a shudder--came this, from the man’s wife: + +“Oh, _don’t_! What horrible thing are you mulling in your mind? Put it +away from you, for God’s sake!” + +But that question was wrung from those men again the next night--and +got the same retort. But weaker. + +And the third night the men uttered the question yet again--with +anguish, and absently. This time--and the following night--the wives +fidgeted feebly, and tried to say something. But didn’t. + +And the night after that they found their tongues and +responded--longingly: + +“Oh, if we _could_ only guess!” + +Halliday’s comments grew daily more and more sparklingly disagreeable +and disparaging. He went diligently about, laughing at the town, +individually and in mass. But his laugh was the only one left in the +village: it fell upon a hollow and mournful vacancy and emptiness. Not +even a smile was findable anywhere. Halliday carried a cigar-box around +on a tripod, playing that it was a camera, and halted all passers and +aimed the thing and said “Ready!--now look pleasant, please,” but +not even this capital joke could surprise the dreary faces into any +softening. + +So three weeks passed--one week was left. It was Saturday evening +after supper. Instead of the aforetime Saturday-evening flutter and +bustle and shopping and larking, the streets were empty and desolate. +Richards and his old wife sat apart in their little parlour--miserable +and thinking. This was become their evening habit now: the life-long +habit which had preceded it, of reading, knitting, and contented +chat, or receiving or paying neighbourly calls, was dead and gone and +forgotten, ages ago--two or three weeks ago; nobody talked now, nobody +read, nobody visited--the whole village sat at home, sighing, worrying, +silent. Trying to guess out that remark. + +The postman left a letter. Richards glanced listlessly at the +superscription and the post-mark--unfamiliar, both--and tossed +the letter on the table and resumed his might-have-beens and his +hopeless dull miseries where he had left them off. Two or three hours +later his wife got wearily up and was going away to bed without a +good-night--custom now--but she stopped near the letter and eyed it +awhile with a dead interest, then broke it open, and began to skim it +over. Richards, sitting there with his chair tilted back against the +wall and his chin between his knees, heard something fall. It was his +wife. He sprang to her side, but she cried out: + +“Leave me alone, I am too happy. Read the letter--read it!” + +He did. He devoured it, his brain reeling. The letter was from a +distant State, and it said: + + “I am a stranger to you, but no matter: I have something to tell. I + have just arrived home from Mexico, and learned about that episode. Of + course you do not know who made that remark, but I know, and I am the + only person living who does know. It was GOODSON. I knew him well, + many years ago. I passed through your village that very night, and + was his guest till the midnight train came along. I overheard him + make that remark to the stranger in the dark--it was in Hale Alley. He + and I talked of it the rest of the way home, and while smoking in his + house. He mentioned many of your villagers in the course of his + talk--most of them in a very uncomplimentary way, but two or three + favourably: among these latter yourself. I say ‘favourably’--nothing + stronger. I remember his saying he did not actually LIKE any person + in the town--not one; but that you--I THINK he said you--am almost + sure--had done him a very great service once, possibly without knowing + the full value of it, and he wished he had a fortune, he would leave + it to you when he died, and a curse apiece for the rest of the + citizens. Now, then, if it was you that did him that service, you are + his legitimate heir, and entitled to the sack of gold. I know that I + can trust to your honour and honesty, for in a citizen of Hadleyburg + these virtues are an unfailing inheritance, and so I am going to + reveal to you the remark, well satisfied that if you are not the right + man you will seek and find the right one and see that poor Goodson’s + debt of gratitude for the service referred to is paid. This is the + remark ‘YOU ARE FAR FROM BEING A BAD MAN: GO, AND REFORM.’ + + “HOWARD L. STEPHENSON.” + +“Oh, Edward, the money is ours, and I am so grateful, _oh_, so +grateful,--kiss me, dear, it’s for ever since we kissed--and we needed +it so--the money--and now you are free of Pinkerton and his bank, and +nobody’s slave any more; it seems to me I could fly for joy.” + +It was a happy half-hour that the couple spent there on the settee +caressing each other; it was the old days come again--days that had +begun with their courtship and lasted without a break till the stranger +brought the deadly money. By-and-by the wife said: + +“Oh, Edward, how lucky it was you did him that grand service, poor +Goodson! I never liked him, but I love him now. And it was fine and +beautiful of you never to mention it or brag about it.” Then, with a +touch of reproach, “But you ought to have told _me_, Edward, you ought +to have told your wife, you know.” + +“Well, I--er--well, Mary, you see--” + +“Now stop hemming and hawing, and tell me about it, Edward. I always +loved you, and now I’m proud of you. Everybody believes there was only +one good generous soul in this village, and now it turns out that +you--Edward, why don’t you tell me?” + +“Well--er--er--Why, Mary, I can’t!” + +“You _can’t_? _Why_ can’t you?” + +“You see, he--well, he--he made me promise I wouldn’t.” + +The wife looked him over, and said, very slowly: + +“Made--you--promise? Edward, what do you tell me that for?” + +“Mary, do you think I would lie?” + +She was troubled and silent for a moment, then she laid her hand within +his and said: + +“No ... no. We have wandered far enough from our bearings--God spare us +that! In all your life you have never uttered a lie. But now--now that +the foundations of things seem to be crumbling from under us, we--we--” +She lost her voice for a moment, then said, brokenly, “Lead us not into +temptation... I think you made the promise, Edward. Let it rest so. +Let us keep away from that ground. Now--that is all gone by; let us he +happy again; it is no time for clouds.” + +Edward found it something of an effort to comply, for his mind kept +wandering--trying to remember what the service was that he had done +Goodson. + +The couple lay awake the most of the night, Mary happy and busy, +Edward busy, but not so happy. Mary was planning what she would do +with the money. Edward was trying to recall that service. At first his +conscience was sore on account of the lie he had told Mary--if it was a +lie. After much reflection--suppose it _was_ a lie? What then? Was it +such a great matter? Aren’t we always _acting_ lies? Then why not tell +them? Look at Mary--look what she had done. While he was hurrying off +on his honest errand, what was she doing? Lamenting because the papers +hadn’t been destroyed and the money kept. Is theft better than lying? + +_That_ point lost its sting--the lie dropped into the background +and left comfort behind it. The next point came to the front: _had_ +he rendered that service? Well, here was Goodson’s own evidence as +reported in Stephenson’s letter; there could be no better evidence +than that--it was even _proof_ that he had rendered it. Of course. So +that point was settled... No, not quite. He recalled with a wince that +this unknown Mr. Stephenson was just a trifle unsure as to whether the +performer of it was Richards or some other--and, oh dear, he had put +Richards on his honour! He must himself decide whither that money must +go--and Mr. Stephenson was not doubting that if he was the wrong man he +would go honourably and find the right one. Oh, it was odious to put a +man in such a situation--ah, why couldn’t Stephenson have left out that +doubt? What did he want to intrude that for? + +Further reflection. How did it happen that _Richards’s_ name remained +in Stephenson’s mind as indicating the right man, and not some other +man’s name? That looked good. Yes, that looked very good. In fact it +went on looking better and better, straight along--until by-and-by +it grew into positive _proof_. And then Richards put the matter at +once out of his mind, for he had a private instinct that a proof once +established is better left so. + +He was feeling reasonably comfortable now, but there was still one +other detail that kept pushing itself on his notice: of course he had +done that service--that was settled; but what _was_ that service? +He must recall it--he would not go to sleep till he had recalled +it; it would make his peace of mind perfect. And so he thought and +thought. He thought of a dozen things--possible services, even +probable services--but none of them seemed adequate, none of them +seemed large enough, none of them seemed worth the money--worth the +fortune Goodson had wished he could leave in his will. And besides, he +couldn’t remember having done them, anyway. Now, then--now, then--what +_kind_ of a service would it be that would make a man so inordinately +grateful? Ah--the saving of his soul! That must be it. Yes, he could +remember, now, how he once set himself the task of converting Goodson, +and laboured at it as much as--he was going to say three months; but +upon closer examination it shrunk to a month, then to a week, then to +a day, then to nothing. Yes, he remembered now, and with unwelcome +vividness, that Goodson had told him to go to thunder and mind his own +business--_he_ wasn’t hankering to follow Hadleyburg to heaven! + +So that solution was a failure--he hadn’t saved Goodson’s soul. +Richards was discouraged. Then after a little came another idea: had +he saved Goodson’s property? No, that wouldn’t do--he hadn’t any. His +life? That is it! Of course. Why, he might have thought of it before. +This time he was on the right track, sure. His imagination-mill was +hard at work in a minute, now. + +Thereafter, during a stretch of two exhausting hours, he was busy +saving Goodson’s life. He saved it in all kinds of difficult and +perilous ways. In every case he got it saved satisfactorily up to a +certain point; then, just as he was beginning to get well persuaded +that it had really happened, a troublesome detail would turn up which +made the whole thing impossible. As in the matter of drowning, for +instance. In that case he had swum out and tugged Goodson ashore in an +unconscious state with a great crowd looking on and applauding, but +when he had got it all thought out and was just beginning to remember +all about it, a whole swarm of disqualifying details arrived on the +ground: the town would have known of the circumstance, Mary would have +known of it, it would glare like a limelight in his own memory instead +of being an inconspicuous service which he had possibly rendered +“without knowing its full value.” And at this point he remembered that +he couldn’t swim anyway. + +Ah--_there_ was a point which he had been overlooking from the start: +it had to be a service which he had rendered “possibly without knowing +the full value of it.” Why, really, that ought to be an easy hunt--much +easier than those others. And sure enough, by-and-by he found it. +Goodson, years and years ago, came near marrying a very sweet and +pretty girl, named Nancy Hewitt, but in some way or other the match +had been broken off; the girl died, Goodson remained a bachelor, +and by-and-by became a soured one and a frank despiser of the human +species. Soon after the girl’s death the village found out, or thought +it had found out, that she carried a spoonful of negro blood in her +veins. Richards worked at these details a good while, and in the end +he thought he remembered things concerning them which must have gotten +mislaid in his memory through long neglect. He seemed to dimly remember +that it was _he_ that found out about the negro blood; that it was he +that told the village; that the village told Goodson where they got it; +that he thus saved Goodson from marrying the tainted girl; that he had +done him this great service “without knowing the full value of it,” in +fact without knowing that he _was_ doing it; but that Goodson knew the +value of it, and what a narrow escape he had had, and so went to his +grave grateful to his benefactor and wishing he had a fortune to leave +him. It was all clear and simple, now, and the more he went over it +the more luminous and certain it grew; and at last, when he nestled to +sleep, satisfied and happy, he remembered the whole thing just as if it +had been yesterday. In fact, he dimly remembered Goodson’s _telling_ +him his gratitude once. Meantime Mary had spent six thousand dollars on +a new house for herself and a pair of slippers for her pastor, and then +had fallen peacefully to rest. + +That same Saturday evening the postman had delivered a letter to each +of the other principal citizens--nineteen letters in all. No two of +the envelopes were alike, and no two of the superscriptions were in +the same hand, but the letters inside were just like each other in +every detail but one. They were exact copies of the letter received by +Richards--handwriting and all--and were all signed by Stephenson, but +in place of Richards’s name each receiver’s own name appeared. + +All night long eighteen principal citizens did what their caste-brother +Richards was doing at the same time--they put in their energies trying +to remember what notable service it was that they had unconsciously +done Barclay Goodson. In no case was it a holiday job; still they +succeeded. + +And while they were at this work, which was difficult, their wives put +in the night spending the money, which was easy. During that one night +the nineteen wives spent an average of seven thousand dollars each out +of the forty thousand in the sack--a hundred and thirty-three thousand +altogether. + +Next day there was a surprise for Jack Halliday. He noticed that +the faces of the nineteen chief citizens and their wives bore that +expression of peaceful and holy happiness again. He could not +understand it, neither was he able to invent any remarks about it +that could damage it or disturb it. And so it was his turn to be +dissatisfied with life. His private guesses at the reasons for the +happiness failed in all instances, upon examination. When he met +Mrs. Wilcox and noticed the placid ecstasy in her face, he said to +himself, “Her cat has had kittens”--and went and asked the cook; it +was not so, the cook had detected the happiness, but did not know +the cause. When Halliday found the duplicate ecstasy in the face of +“Shadbelly” Billson (village nickname), he was sure some neighbour of +Billson’s had broken his leg, but inquiry showed that this had not +happened. The subdued ecstasy in Gregory Yates’s face could mean but +one thing--he was a mother-in-law short; it was another mistake. “And +Pinkerton--Pinkerton--he has collected ten cents that he thought he +was going to lose.” And so on, and so on. In some cases the guesses +had to remain in doubt, in the others they proved distinct errors. In +the end Halliday said to himself, “Anyway it roots up that there’s +nineteen Hadleyburg families temporarily in heaven: I don’t know how it +happened; I only know Providence is off duty to-day.” + +An architect and builder from the next State had lately ventured to set +up a small business in this unpromising village, and his sign had now +been hanging out a week. Not a customer yet; he was a discouraged man, +and sorry he had come. But his weather changed suddenly now. First one +and then another chief citizen’s wife said to him privately: + +“Come to my house Monday week--but say nothing about it for the +present. We think of building.” + +He got eleven invitations that day. That night he wrote his daughter +and broke off her match with her student. He said she could marry a +mile higher than that. + +Pinkerton the banker and two or three other well-to-do men planned +country-seats--but waited. That kind don’t count their chickens until +they are hatched. + +The Wilsons devised a grand new thing--a fancy-dress ball. They made +no actual promises, but told all their acquaintanceship in confidence +that they were thinking the matter over and thought they should give +it--“and if we do, you will be invited, of course.” People were +surprised, and said, one to another, “Why, they are crazy, those +poor Wilsons, they can’t afford it.” Several among the nineteen said +privately to their husbands, “It is a good idea, we will keep still +till their cheap thing is over, then _we_ will give one that will make +it sick.” + +The days drifted along, and the bill of future squanderings rose higher +and higher, wilder and wilder, more and more foolish and reckless. It +began to look as if every member of the nineteen would not only spend +his whole forty thousand dollars before receiving-day, but be actually +in debt by the time he got the money. In some cases light-headed people +did not stop with planning to spend, they really spent--on credit. +They bought land, mortgages, farms, speculative stocks, fine clothes, +horses, and various other things, paid down the bonus, and made +themselves liable for the rest--at ten days. Presently the sober second +thought came, and Halliday noticed that a ghastly anxiety was beginning +to show up in a good many faces. Again he was puzzled, and didn’t know +what to make of it. “The Wilcox kittens aren’t dead, for they weren’t +born; nobody’s broken a leg; there’s no shrinkage in mother-in-laws; +_nothing_ has happened--it is an insolvable mystery.” + +There was another puzzled man, too--the Rev. Mr. Burgess. For days, +wherever he went, people seemed to follow him or to be watching out for +him; and if he ever found himself in a retired spot, a member of the +nineteen would be sure to appear, thrust an envelope privately into +his hand, whisper “To be opened at the town-hall Friday evening,” then +vanish away like a guilty thing. He was expecting that there might be +one claimant for the sack--doubtful, however, Goodson being dead--but +it never occurred to him that all this crowd might be claimants. When +the great Friday came at last, he found that he had nineteen envelopes. + + + + +III. + + +The town-hall had never looked finer. The platform at the end of it +was backed by a showy draping of flags; at intervals along the walls +were festoons of flags; the gallery fronts were clothed in flags; the +supporting columns were swathed in flags; all this was to impress the +stranger, for he would be there in considerable force, and in a large +degree he would be connected with the press. The house was full. The +412 fixed seats were occupied; also the 68 extra chairs which had +been packed into the aisles; the steps of the platform were occupied; +some distinguished strangers were given seats on the platform; at the +horseshoe of tables which fenced the front and sides of the platform +sat a strong force of special correspondents who had come from +everywhere. It was the best-dressed house the town had ever produced. +There were some tolerably expensive toilets there, and in several cases +the ladies who wore them had the look of being unfamiliar with that +kind of clothes. At least the town thought they had that look, but the +notion could have arisen from the town’s knowledge of the fact that +these ladies had never inhabited such clothes before. + +The gold-sack stood on a little table at the front of the platform +where all the house could see it. The bulk of the house gazed at it +with a burning interest, a mouth-watering interest, a wistful and +pathetic interest; a minority of nineteen couples gazed at it tenderly, +lovingly, proprietarily, and the male half of this minority kept saying +over to themselves the moving little impromptu speeches of thankfulness +for the audience’s applause and congratulations which they were +presently going to get up and deliver. Every now and then one of these +got a piece of paper out of his vest pocket and privately glanced at it +to refresh his memory. + +Of course there was a buzz of conversation going on--there always +is; but at last, when the Rev. Mr. Burgess rose and laid his hand on +the sack, he could hear his microbes gnaw, the place was so still. +He related the curious history of the sack, then went on to speak +in warm terms of Hadleyburg’s old and well-earned reputation for +spotless honesty, and of the town’s just pride in this reputation. +He said that this reputation was a treasure of priceless value; that +under Providence its value had now become inestimably enhanced, for +the recent episode had spread this fame far and wide, and thus had +focussed the eyes of the American world upon this village, and made its +name for all time, as he hoped and believed, a synonym for commercial +incorruptibility. [Applause.] “And who is to be the guardian of this +noble fame--the community as a whole? No! The responsibility is +individual, not communal. From this day forth each and every one of you +is in his own person its special guardian, and individually responsible +that no harm shall come to it. Do you--does each of you--accept this +great trust? [Tumultuous assent.] Then all is well. Transmit it to +your children and to your children’s children. To-day your purity is +beyond reproach--see to it that it shall remain so. To-day there is not +a person in your community who could be beguiled to touch a penny not +his own--see to it that you abide in this grace. [“We will! we will!”] +This is not the place to make comparisons between ourselves and other +communities--some of them ungracious towards us; they have their ways, +we have ours; let us be content. [Applause.] I am done. Under my hand, +my friends, rests a stranger’s eloquent recognition of what we are; +through him the world will always henceforth know what we are. We do +not know who he is, but in your name I utter your gratitude, and ask +you to raise your voices in indorsement.” + +The house rose in a body and made the walls quake with the thunders +of its thankfulness for the space of a long minute. Then it sat down, +and Mr. Burgess took an envelope out of his pocket. The house held +its breath while he slit the envelope open and took from it a slip of +paper. He read its contents--slowly and impressively--the audience +listening with tranced attention to this magic document, each of whose +words stood for an ingot of gold: + +“‘The remark which I made to the distressed stranger was this: +“You are very far from being a bad man; go, and reform.”’” Then he +continued:--“We shall know in a moment now whether the remark here +quoted corresponds with the one concealed in the sack; and if that +shall prove to be so--and it undoubtedly will--this sack of gold +belongs to a fellow-citizen who will henceforth stand before the nation +as the symbol of the special virtue which has made our town famous +throughout the land--Mr. Billson!” + +The house had gotten itself all ready to burst into the proper tornado +of applause; but instead of doing it, it seemed stricken with a +paralysis; there was a deep hush for a moment or two, then a wave of +whispered murmurs swept the place--of about this tenor: “_Billson_! +oh, come, this is _too_ thin! Twenty dollars to a stranger--or +_anybody_--_Billson_! Tell it to the marines!” And now at this point +the house caught its breath all of a sudden in a new access of +astonishment, for it discovered that whereas in one part of the hall +Deacon Billson was standing up with his head meekly bowed, in another +part of it Lawyer Wilson was doing the same. There was a wondering +silence now for a while. Everybody was puzzled, and nineteen couples +were surprised and indignant. + +Billson and Wilson turned and stared at each other. Billson asked, +bitingly: + +“Why do _you_ rise, Mr. Wilson?” + +“Because I have a right to. Perhaps you will be good enough to explain +to the house why _you_ rise.” + +“With great pleasure. Because I wrote that paper.” + +“It is an impudent falsity! I wrote it myself.” + +It was Burgess’s turn to be paralysed. He stood looking vacantly at +first one of the men and then the other, and did not seem to know what +to do. The house was stupefied. Lawyer Wilson spoke up now, and said: + +“I ask the Chair to read the name signed to that paper.” + +That brought the Chair to itself, and it read out the name: + +“John Wharton _Billson_.” + +“There!” shouted Billson, “what have you got to say for yourself now? +And what kind of apology are you going to make to me and to this +insulted house for the imposture which you have attempted to play here?” + +“No apologies are due, sir; and as for the rest of it, I publicly +charge you with pilfering my note from Mr. Burgess and substituting a +copy of it signed with your own name. There is no other way by which +you could have gotten hold of the test-remark; I alone, of living men, +possessed the secret of its wording.” + +There was likely to be a scandalous state of things if this went +on; everybody noticed with distress that the shorthand scribes were +scribbling like mad; many people were crying “Chair, chair! Order! +order!” Burgess rapped with his gavel, and said: + +“Let us not forget the proprieties due. There has evidently been a +mistake somewhere, but surely that is all. If Mr. Wilson gave me an +envelope--and I remember now that he did--I still have it.” + +He took one out of his pocket, opened it, glanced at it, looked +surprised and worried, and stood silent a few moments. Then he waved +his hand in a wandering and mechanical way, and made an effort or two +to say something, then gave it up, despondently. Several voices cried +out: + +“Read it! read it! What is it?” + +So he began, in a dazed and sleep-walker fashion: + +“‘The remark which I made to the unhappy stranger was this: “You are +far from being a bad man. [The house gazed at him marvelling.] Go, and +reform.”’ [Murmurs: “Amazing! what can this mean?”] This one,” said the +Chair, “is signed Thurlow G. Wilson.” + +“There!” cried Wilson, “I reckon that settles it! I knew perfectly well +my note was purloined.” + +“Purloined!” retorted Billson. “I’ll let you know that neither you nor +any man of your kidney must venture to--” + +The Chair: “Order, gentlemen, order! Take your seats, both of you, +please.” + +They obeyed, shaking their heads and grumbling angrily. The house +was profoundly puzzled; it did not know what to do with this curious +emergency. Presently Thompson got up. Thompson was the hatter. He would +have liked to be a Nineteener; but such was not for him; his stock of +hats was not considerable enough for the position. He said: + +“Mr. Chairman, if I may be permitted to make a suggestion, can both of +these gentlemen be right? I put it to you, sir, can both have happened +to say the very same words to the stranger? It seems to me--” + +The tanner got up and interrupted him. The tanner was a disgruntled +man; he believed himself entitled to be a Nineteener, but he couldn’t +get recognition. It made him a little unpleasant in his ways and +speech. Said he: + +“Sho, _that’s_ not the point! _That_ could happen--twice in a hundred +years--but not the other thing. _Neither_ of them gave the twenty +dollars!” [A ripple of applause.] + +Billson. “I did!” + +Wilson. “I did!” + +Then each accused the other of pilfering. + +The Chair. “Order! Sit down, if you please--both of you. Neither of the +notes has been out of my possession at any moment.” + +A Voice. “Good--that settles _that_!” + +The Tanner. “Mr. Chairman, one thing is now plain: one of these men +has been eavesdropping under the other one’s bed, and filching family +secrets. If it is not unparliamentary to suggest it, I will remark +that both are equal to it. [The Chair. “Order! order!”] I withdraw the +remark, sir, and will confine myself to suggesting that _if_ one of +them has overheard the other reveal the test-remark to his wife, we +shall catch him now.” + +A Voice. “How?” + +The Tanner. “Easily. The two have not quoted the remark in exactly +the same words. You would have noticed that, if there hadn’t been a +considerable stretch of time and an exciting quarrel inserted between +the two readings.” + +A Voice. “Name the difference.” + +The Tanner. “The word _very_ is in Billson’s note, and not in the +other.” + +Many Voices. “That’s so--he’s right!” + +The Tanner. “And so, if the Chair will examine the test-remark in +the sack, we shall know which of these two frauds--[The Chair. +“Order!”]--which of these two adventurers--[The Chair. “Order! +order!”]--which of these two gentlemen--[laughter and applause]--is +entitled to wear the belt as being the first dishonest blatherskite +ever bred in this town--which he has dishonoured, and which will be a +sultry place for him from now out!” [Vigorous applause.] + +Many Voices. “Open it!--open the sack!” + +Mr. Burgess made a slit in the sack, slid his hand in, and brought out +an envelope. In it were a couple of folded notes. He said: + +“One of these is marked, ‘Not to be examined until all written +communications which have been addressed to the Chair--if any--shall +have been read.’ The other is marked ‘_The Test_.’ Allow me. It is +worded--to wit: + +“‘I do not require that the first half of the remark which was made +to me by my benefactor shall be quoted with exactness, for it was not +striking, and could be forgotten; but its closing fifteen words are +quite striking, and I think easily rememberable; unless _these_ shall +be accurately reproduced, let the applicant be regarded as an impostor. +My benefactor began by saying he seldom gave advice to anyone, but that +it always bore the hall-mark of high value when he did give it. Then he +said this--and it has never faded from my memory: ‘_You are far from +being a bad man_--’’” + +Fifty Voices. “That settles it--the money’s Wilson’s! Wilson! Wilson! +Speech! Speech!” + +People jumped up and crowded around Wilson, wringing his hand and +congratulating fervently--meantime the Chair was hammering with the +gavel and shouting: + +“Order, gentlemen! Order! Order! Let me finish reading, please.” When +quiet was restored, the reading was resumed--as follows: + +“‘_Go, and reform--or, mark my words--some day, for your sins you will +die and go to hell or Hadleyburg_--TRY AND MAKE IT THE FORMER.’” + +A ghastly silence followed. First an angry cloud began to settle darkly +upon the faces of the citizenship; after a pause the cloud began to +rise, and a tickled expression tried to take its place; tried so hard +that it was only kept under with great and painful difficulty; the +reporters, the Brixtonites, and other strangers bent their heads down +and shielded their faces with their hands, and managed to hold in by +main strength and heroic courtesy. At this most inopportune time burst +upon the stillness the roar of a solitary voice--Jack Halliday’s: + +“_That’s_ got the hall-mark on it!” + +Then the house let go, strangers and all. Even Mr. Burgess’s gravity +broke down presently, then the audience considered itself officially +absolved from all restraint, and it made the most of its privilege. It +was a good long laugh, and a tempestuously wholehearted one, but it +ceased at last--long enough for Mr. Burgess to try to resume, and for +the people to get their eyes partially wiped; then it broke out again, +and afterward yet again; then at last Burgess was able to get out these +serious words: + +“It is useless to try to disguise the fact--we find ourselves in the +presence of a matter of grave import. It involves the honour of your +town--it strikes at the town’s good name. The difference of a single +word between the test-remarks offered by Mr. Wilson and Mr. Billson was +itself a serious thing, since it indicated that one or the other of +these gentlemen had committed a theft--” + +The two men were sitting limp, nerveless, crushed; but at these words +both were electrified into movement, and started to get up. + +“Sit down!” said the Chair, sharply, and they obeyed. “That, as I +have said, was a serious thing. And it was--but for only one of them. +But the matter has become graver; for the honour of _both_ is now in +formidable peril. Shall I go even further, and say in inextricable +peril? _Both_ left out the crucial fifteen words.” He paused. During +several moments he allowed the pervading stillness to gather and +deepen its impressive effects, then added: “There would seem to be but +one way whereby this could happen. I ask these gentlemen--Was there +_collusion_?--_agreement_?” + +A low murmur sifted through the house; its import was, “He’s got them +both.” + +Billson was not used to emergencies; he sat in a helpless collapse. But +Wilson was a lawyer. He struggled to his feet, pale and worried, and +said: + +“I ask the indulgence of the house while I explain this most painful +matter. I am sorry to say what I am about to say, since it must inflict +irreparable injury upon Mr. Billson, whom I have always esteemed and +respected until now, and in whose invulnerability to temptation I +entirely believed--as did you all. But for the preservation of my own +honour I must speak--and with frankness. I confess with shame--and I +now beseech your pardon for it--that I said to the ruined stranger all +of the words contained in the test-remark, including the disparaging +fifteen. [Sensation.] When the late publication was made I recalled +them, and I resolved to claim the sack of coin, for by every right +I was entitled to it. Now I will ask you to consider this point, +and weigh it well; that stranger’s gratitude to me that night knew +no bounds; he said himself that he could find no words for it that +were adequate, and that if he should ever be able he would repay me +a thousandfold. Now, then, I ask you this; could I expect--could I +believe--could I even remotely imagine--that, feeling as he did, he +would do so ungrateful a thing as to add those quite unnecessary +fifteen words to his test?--set a trap for me?--expose me as a +slanderer of my own town before my own people assembled in a public +hall? It was preposterous; it was impossible. His test would contain +only the kindly opening clause of my remark. Of that I had no shadow of +doubt. You would have thought as I did. You would not have expected a +base betrayal from one whom you had befriended and against whom you had +committed no offence. And so with perfect confidence, perfect trust, +I wrote on a piece of paper the opening words--ending with “Go, and +reform,”--and signed it. When I was about to put it in an envelope I +was called into my back office, and without thinking I left the paper +lying open on my desk.” He stopped, turned his head slowly toward +Billson, waited a moment, then added: “I ask you to note this; when I +returned, a little latter, Mr. Billson was retiring by my street door.” +[Sensation.] + +In a moment Billson was on his feet and shouting: + +“It’s a lie! It’s an infamous lie!” + +The Chair. “Be seated, sir! Mr. Wilson has the floor.” + +Billson’s friends pulled him into his seat and quieted him, and Wilson +went on: + +“Those are the simple facts. My note was now lying in a different place +on the table from where I had left it. I noticed that, but attached +no importance to it, thinking a draught had blown it there. That +Mr. Billson would read a private paper was a thing which could not +occur to me; he was an honourable man, and he would be above that. If +you will allow me to say it, I think his extra word ‘_very_’ stands +explained: it is attributable to a defect of memory. I was the only man +in the world who could furnish here any detail of the test-mark--by +_honourable_ means. I have finished.” + +There is nothing in the world like a persuasive speech to fuddle the +mental apparatus and upset the convictions and debauch the emotions +of an audience not practised in the tricks and delusions of oratory. +Wilson sat down victorious. The house submerged him in tides of +approving applause; friends swarmed to him and shook him by the hand +and congratulated him, and Billson was shouted down and not allowed to +say a word. The Chair hammered and hammered with its gavel, and kept +shouting: + +“But let us proceed, gentlemen, let us proceed!” + +At last there was a measurable degree of quiet, and the hatter said: + +“But what is there to proceed with, sir, but to deliver the money?” + +Voices. “That’s it! That’s it! Come forward, Wilson!” + +The Hatter. “I move three cheers for Mr. Wilson, Symbol of the special +virtue which--” + +The cheers burst forth before he could finish; and in the midst +of them--and in the midst of the clamour of the gavel also--some +enthusiasts mounted Wilson on a big friend’s shoulder and were going to +fetch him in triumph to the platform. The Chair’s voice now rose above +the noise: + +“Order! To your places! You forget that there is still a document to +be read.” When quiet had been restored he took up the document, and +was going to read it, but laid it down again saying “I forgot; this is +not to be read until all written communications received by me have +first been read.” He took an envelope out of his pocket, removed its +enclosure, glanced at it--seemed astonished--held it out and gazed at +it--stared at it. + +Twenty or thirty voices cried out + +“What is it? Read it! read it!” + +And he did--slowly, and wondering: + +“‘The remark which I made to the stranger--[Voices. “Hello! how’s +this?”]--was this: ‘You are far from being a bad man. [Voices. “Great +Scott!”] Go, and reform.’” [Voice. “Oh, saw my leg off!”] Signed by Mr. +Pinkerton the banker.” + +The pandemonium of delight which turned itself loose now was of a sort +to make the judicious weep. Those whose withers were unwrung laughed +till the tears ran down; the reporters, in throes of laughter, set down +disordered pot-hooks which would never in the world be decipherable; +and a sleeping dog jumped up scared out of its wits, and barked itself +crazy at the turmoil. All manner of cries were scattered through the +din: “We’re getting rich--_two_ Symbols of Incorruptibility!--without +counting Billson!” “_Three_!--count Shadbelly in--we can’t have too +many!” “All right--Billson’s elected!” “Alas, poor Wilson! victim of +_two_ thieves!” + +A Powerful Voice. “Silence! The Chair’s fished up something more out of +its pocket.” + +Voices. “Hurrah! Is it something fresh? Read it! read! read!” + +The Chair [reading]. “‘The remark which I made,’ etc. ‘You are far from +being a bad man. Go,’ etc. Signed, ‘Gregory Yates.’” + +Tornado of Voices. “Four Symbols!” “’Rah for Yates!” “Fish again!” + +The house was in a roaring humour now, and ready to get all the fun out +of the occasion that might be in it. Several Nineteeners, looking pale +and distressed, got up and began to work their way towards the aisles, +but a score of shouts went up: + +“The doors, the doors--close the doors; no Incorruptible shall leave +this place! Sit down, everybody!” The mandate was obeyed. + +“Fish again! Read! read!” + +The Chair fished again, and once more the familiar words began to fall +from its lips--“‘You are far from being a bad man--’” + +“Name! name! What’s his name?” + +“‘L. Ingoldsby Sargent.’” + +“Five elected! Pile up the Symbols! Go on, go on!” + +“‘You are far from being a bad--’” + +“Name! name!” + +“‘Nicholas Whitworth.’” + +“Hooray! hooray! it’s a symbolical day!” + +Somebody wailed in, and began to sing this rhyme (leaving out “it’s”) +to the lovely “Mikado” tune of “When a man’s afraid of a beautiful +maid;” the audience joined in, with joy; then, just in time, somebody +contributed another line-- + + “And don’t you this forget--” + +The house roared it out. A third line was at once furnished-- + + “Corruptibles far from Hadleyburg are--” + +The house roared that one too. As the last note died, Jack Halliday’s +voice rose high and clear, freighted with a final line-- + + “But the Symbols are here, you bet!” + +That was sung, with booming enthusiasm. Then the happy house started in +at the beginning and sang the four lines through twice, with immense +swing and dash, and finished up with a crashing three-times-three and a +tiger for “Hadleyburg the Incorruptible and all Symbols of it which we +shall find worthy to receive the hall-mark to-night.” + +Then the shoutings at the Chair began again, all over the place: + +“Go on! go on! Read! read some more! Read all you’ve got!” + +“That’s it--go on! We are winning eternal celebrity!” + +A dozen men got up now and began to protest. They said that this farce +was the work of some abandoned joker, and was an insult to the whole +community. Without a doubt these signatures were all forgeries-- + +“Sit down! sit down! Shut up! You are confessing. We’ll find your +names in the lot.” + +“Mr. Chairman, how many of those envelopes have you got?” + +The Chair counted. + +“Together with those that have been already examined, there are +nineteen.” + +A storm of derisive applause broke out. + +“Perhaps they all contain the secret. I move that you open them all and +read every signature that is attached to a note of that sort--and read +also the first eight words of the note.” + +“Second the motion!” + +It was put and carried--uproariously. Then poor old Richards got up, and +his wife rose and stood at his side. Her head was bent down, so that +none might see that she was crying. Her husband gave her his arm, and so +supporting her, he began to speak in a quavering voice: + +“My friends, you have known us two--Mary and me--all our lives, and I +think you have liked us and respected us--” + +The Chair interrupted him: + +“Allow me. It is quite true--that which you are saying, Mr. Richards; +this town _does_ know you two; it _does_ like you; it _does_ respect you; +more--it honours you and _loves_ you--” + +Halliday’s voice rang out: + +“That’s the hall-marked truth, too! If the Chair is right, let the house +speak up and say it. Rise! Now, then--hip! hip! hip!--all together!” + +The house rose in mass, faced toward the old couple eagerly, filled the +air with a snow-storm of waving handkerchiefs, and delivered the cheers +with all its affectionate heart. + +The Chair then continued: + +“What I was going to say is this: We know your good heart, Mr. Richards, +but this is not a time for the exercise of charity toward offenders. +[Shouts of “Right! right!”] I see your generous purpose in your face, +but I cannot allow you to plead for these men--” + +“But I was going to--” + +“Please take your seat, Mr. Richards. We must examine the rest of these +notes--simple fairness to the men who have already been exposed requires +this. As soon as that has been done--I give you my word for this--you +shall he heard.” + +Many voices. “Right!--the Chair is right--no interruption can be +permitted at this stage! Go on!--the names! the names!--according to the +terms of the motion!” + +The old couple sat reluctantly down, and the husband whispered to the +wife, “It is pitifully hard to have to wait; the shame will be greater +than ever when they find we were only going to plead for _ourselves_.” + +Straightway the jollity broke loose again with the reading of the names. + +“‘You are far from being a bad man--’ Signature, ‘Robert J. Titmarsh.’” + +“‘You are far from being a bad man--’ Signature, ‘Eliphalet Weeks.’” + +“‘You are far from being a bad man--’ Signature, ‘Oscar B. Wilder.’” + +At this point the house lit upon the idea of taking the eight words out +of the Chairman’s hands. He was not unthankful for that. Thenceforward +he held up each note in its turn and waited. The house droned out the +eight words in a massed and measured and musical deep volume of sound +(with a daringly close resemblance to a well-known church chant)--“You +are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-a-d man.” Then the Chair said, “Signature, +‘Archibald Wilcox.’” And so on, and so on, name after name, and +everybody had an increasingly and gloriously good time except the +wretched Nineteen. Now and then, when a particularly shining name was +called, the house made the Chair wait while it chanted the whole of the +test-remark from the beginning to the closing words, “And go to hell or +Hadleyburg--try and make it the for-or-m-e-r!” and in these special cases +they added a grand and agonised and imposing “A-a-a-a-_men_!” + +The list dwindled, dwindled, dwindled, poor old Richards keeping tally of +the count, wincing when a name resembling his own was pronounced, and +waiting in miserable suspense for the time to come when it would be his +humiliating privilege to rise with Mary and finish his plea, which he was +intending to word thus: “... for until now we have never done any wrong +thing, but have gone our humble way unreproached. We are very poor, we +are old, and, have no chick nor child to help us; we were sorely tempted, +and we fell. It was my purpose when I got up before to make confession +and beg that my name might not be read out in this public place, for it +seemed to us that we could not bear it; but I was prevented. It was +just; it was our place to suffer with the rest. It has been hard for us. +It is the first time we have ever heard our name fall from any one’s +lips--sullied. Be merciful--for the sake or the better days; make our +shame as light to bear as in your charity you can.” At this point in his +reverie Mary nudged him, perceiving that his mind was absent. The house +was chanting, “You are f-a-r,” etc. + +“Be ready,” Mary whispered. “Your name comes now; he has read eighteen.” + +The chant ended. + +“Next! next! next!” came volleying from all over the house. + +Burgess put his hand into his pocket. The old couple, trembling, began +to rise. Burgess fumbled a moment, then said: + +“I find I have read them all.” + +Faint with joy and surprise, the couple sank into their seats, and Mary +whispered: + +“Oh, bless God, we are saved!--he has lost ours--I wouldn’t give this for +a hundred of those sacks!” + +The house burst out with its “Mikado” travesty, and sang it three times +with ever-increasing enthusiasm, rising to its feet when it reached for +the third time the closing line-- + + “But the Symbols are here, you bet!” + +and finishing up with cheers and a tiger for “Hadleyburg purity and our +eighteen immortal representatives of it.” + +Then Wingate, the saddler, got up and proposed cheers “for the cleanest +man in town, the one solitary important citizen in it who didn’t try to +steal that money--Edward Richards.” + +They were given with great and moving heartiness; then somebody proposed +that “Richards be elected sole Guardian and Symbol of the now Sacred +Hadleyburg Tradition, with power and right to stand up and look the whole +sarcastic world in the face.” + +Passed, by acclamation; then they sang the “Mikado” again, and ended it +with-- + + “And there’s _one_ Symbol left, you bet!” + +There was a pause; then-- + +A Voice. “Now, then, who’s to get the sack?” + +The Tanner (with bitter sarcasm). “That’s easy. The money has to be +divided among the eighteen Incorruptibles. They gave the suffering +stranger twenty dollars apiece--and that remark--each in his turn--it +took twenty-two minutes for the procession to move past. Staked the +stranger--total contribution, $360. All they want is just the loan +back--and interest--forty thousand dollars altogether.” + +Many Voices [derisively.] “That’s it! Divvy! divvy! Be kind to the +poor--don’t keep them waiting!” + +The Chair. “Order! I now offer the stranger’s remaining document. +It says: ‘If no claimant shall appear [grand chorus of groans], I +desire that you open the sack and count out the money to the principal +citizens of your town, they to take it in trust [Cries of “Oh! Oh! +Oh!”], and use it in such ways as to them shall seem best for the +propagation and preservation of your community’s noble reputation +for incorruptible honesty [more cries]--a reputation to which their +names and their efforts will add a new and far-reaching lustre.” +[Enthusiastic outburst of sarcastic applause.] That seems to be all. +No--here is a postscript: + +“‘P.S.--CITIZENS OF HADLEYBURG: There _is_ no test-remark--nobody +made one. [Great sensation.] There wasn’t any pauper stranger, nor +any twenty-dollar contribution, nor any accompanying benediction +and compliment--these are all inventions. [General buzz and hum of +astonishment and delight.] Allow me to tell my story--it will take +but a word or two. I passed through your town at a certain time, and +received a deep offence which I had not earned. Any other man would +have been content to kill one or two of you and call it square, but +to me that would have been a trivial revenge, and inadequate; for the +dead do not _suffer_. Besides I could not kill you all--and, anyway, +made as I am, even that would not have satisfied me. I wanted to damage +every man in the place, and every woman--and not in their bodies or in +their estate, but in their vanity--the place where feeble and foolish +people are most vulnerable. So I disguised myself and came back and +studied you. You were easy game. You had an old and lofty reputation +for honesty, and naturally you were proud of it--it was your treasure +of treasures, the very apple of your eye. As soon as I found out that +you carefully and vigilantly kept yourselves and your children _out +of temptation_, I knew how to proceed. Why, you simple creatures, the +weakest of all weak things is a virtue which has not been tested in +the fire. I laid a plan, and gathered a list of names. My project was +to corrupt Hadleyburg the Incorruptible. My idea was to make liars +and thieves of nearly half a hundred smirchless men and women who had +never in their lives uttered a lie or stolen a penny. I was afraid of +Goodson. He was neither born nor reared in Hadleyburg. I was afraid +that if I started to operate my scheme by getting my letter laid before +you, you would say to yourselves, ‘Goodson is the only man among us who +would give away twenty dollars to a poor devil’--and then you might +not bite at my bait. But heaven took Goodson; then I knew I was safe, +and I set my trap and baited it. It may be that I shall not catch all +the men to whom I mailed the pretended test-secret, but I shall catch +the most of them, if I know Hadleyburg nature. [Voices. “Right--he got +every last one of them.”] I believe they will even steal ostensible +_gamble_-money, rather than miss, poor, tempted, and mistrained +fellows. I am hoping to eternally and everlastingly squelch your vanity +and give Hadleyburg a new renown--one that will _stick_--and spread +far. If I have succeeded, open the sack and summon the Committee on +Propagation and Preservation of the Hadleyburg Reputation.’” + +A Cyclone of Voices. “Open it! Open it! The Eighteen to the front! +Committee on Propagation of the Tradition! Forward--the Incorruptibles!” + +The Chair ripped the sack wide, and gathered up a handful of bright, +broad, yellow coins, shook them together, then examined them. + +“Friends, they are only gilded disks of lead!” + +There was a crashing outbreak of delight over this news, and when the +noise had subsided, the tanner called out: + +“By right of apparent seniority in this business, Mr. Wilson is +Chairman of the Committee on Propagation of the Tradition. I suggest +that he step forward on behalf of his pals, and receive in trust the +money.” + +A Hundred Voices. “Wilson! Wilson! Wilson! Speech! Speech!” + +Wilson [in a voice trembling with anger]. “You will allow me to say, +and without apologies for my language, _damn_ the money!” + +A Voice. “Oh, and him a Baptist!” + +A Voice. “Seventeen Symbols left! Step up, gentlemen, and assume your +trust!” + +There was a pause--no response. + +The Saddler. “Mr. Chairman, we’ve got _one_ clean man left, anyway, out +of the late aristocracy; and he needs money, and deserves it. I move +that you appoint Jack Halliday to get up there and auction off that +sack of gilt twenty-dollar pieces, and give the result to the right +man--the man whom Hadleyburg delights to honour--Edward Richards.” + +This was received with great enthusiasm, the dog taking a hand again; +the saddler started the bids at a dollar, the Brixton folk and Barnum’s +representative fought hard for it, the people cheered every jump that +the bids made, the excitement climbed moment by moment higher and +higher, the bidders got on their mettle and grew steadily more and more +daring, more and more determined, the jumps went from a dollar up to +five, then to ten, then to twenty, then fifty, then to a hundred, then-- + +At the beginning of the auction Richards whispered in distress to +his wife: “Oh, Mary, can we allow it? It--it--you see, it is an +honour--reward, a testimonial to purity of character, and--and--can +we allow it? Hadn’t I better get up and--Oh, Mary, what ought we +to do?--what do you think we--” [Halliday’s voice. “Fifteen I’m +bid!--fifteen for the sack!--twenty!--ah, thanks!--thirty--thanks +again! Thirty, thirty, thirty!--do I hear forty?--forty it is! Keep +the ball rolling, gentlemen, keep it rolling!--fifty!--thanks, noble +Roman!--going at fifty, fifty, fifty!--seventy!--ninety!--splendid!--a +hundred!--pile it up, pile it up!--hundred and twenty--forty!--just +in time!--hundred and fifty!--Two hundred!--superb! Do I hear two +h--thanks!--two hundred and fifty!--”] + +“It is another temptation, Edward--I’m all in a tremble--but, oh, we’ve +escaped one temptation, and that ought to warn us, to--[“Six did I +hear?--thanks!--six fifty, six f--SEVEN hundred!”] And yet, Edward, +when you think--nobody susp--[“Eight hundred dollars!--hurrah!--make +it nine!--Mr. Parsons, did I hear you say--thanks!--nine!--this noble +sack of virgin lead going at only nine hundred dollars, gilding and +all--come! do I hear--a thousand!--gratefully yours!--did some one say +eleven?--a sack which is going to be the most celebrated in the whole +Uni--”] “Oh, Edward” (beginning to sob), “we are so poor!--but--but--do +as you think best--do as you think best.” + +Edward fell--that is, he sat still; sat with a conscience which was not +satisfied, but which was overpowered by circumstances. + +Meantime a stranger, who looked like an amateur detective gotten +up as an impossible English earl, had been watching the evening’s +proceedings with manifest interest, and with a contented expression in +his face; and he had been privately commenting to himself. He was now +soliloquising somewhat like this: “None of the Eighteen are bidding; +that is not satisfactory; I must change that--the dramatic unities +require it; they must buy the sack they tried to steal; they must pay +a heavy price, too--some of them are rich. And another thing, when I +make a mistake in Hadleyburg nature the man that puts that error upon +me is entitled to a high honorarium, and some one must pay. This poor +old Richards has brought my judgment to shame; he is an honest man:--I +don’t understand it, but I acknowledge it. Yes, he saw my deuces--_and_ +with a straight flush, and by rights the pot is his. And it shall be +a jack-pot, too, if I can manage it. He disappointed me, but let that +pass.” + +He was watching the bidding. At a thousand, the market broke: the +prices tumbled swiftly. He waited--and still watched. One competitor +dropped out; then another, and another. He put in a bid or two now. +When the bids had sunk to ten dollars, he added a five; some one raised +him a three; he waited a moment, then flung in a fifty-dollar jump, +and the sack was his--at $1,282. The house broke out in cheers--then +stopped; for he was on his feet, and had lifted his hand. He began to +speak. + +“I desire to say a word, and ask a favour. I am a speculator in +rarities, and I have dealings with persons interested in numismatics +all over the world. I can make a profit on this purchase, just as it +stands; but there is a way, if I can get your approval, whereby I can +make every one of these leaden twenty-dollar pieces worth its face +in gold, and perhaps more. Grant me that approval, and I will give +part of my gains to your Mr. Richards, whose invulnerable probity you +have so justly and so cordially recognised to-night; his share shall +be ten thousand dollars, and I will hand him the money to-morrow. +[Great applause from the house. But the “invulnerable probity” made +the Richardses blush prettily; however, it went for modesty, and did +no harm.] If you will pass my proposition by a good majority--I would +like a two-thirds vote--I will regard that as the town’s consent, and +that is all I ask. Rarities are always helped by any device which will +rouse curiosity and compel remark. Now if I may have your permission to +stamp upon the faces of each of these ostensible coins the names of the +eighteen gentlemen who--” + +Nine-tenths of the audience were on their feet in a moment--dog and +all--and the proposition was carried with a whirlwind of approving +applause and laughter. + +They sat down, and all the Symbols except “Dr.” Clay Harkness got up, +violently protesting against the proposed outrage, and threatening to-- + +“I beg you not to threaten me,” said the stranger calmly. “I know my +legal rights, and am not accustomed to being frightened at bluster.” +[Applause.] He sat down. “Dr.” Harkness saw an opportunity here. He +was one of the two very rich men of the place, and Pinkerton was the +other. Harkness was proprietor of a mint; that is to say, a popular +patent medicine. He was running for the Legislature on one ticket, and +Pinkerton on the other. It was a close race and a hot one, and getting +hotter every day. Both had strong appetites for money; each had bought +a great tract of land, with a purpose; there was going to be a new +railway, and each wanted to be in the Legislature and help locate the +route to his own advantage; a single vote might make the decision, and +with it two or three fortunes. The stake was large, and Harkness was a +daring speculator. He was sitting close to the stranger. He leaned over +while one or another of the other Symbols was entertaining the house +with protests and appeals, and asked, in a whisper, + +“What is your price for the sack?” + +“Forty thousand dollars.” + +“I’ll give you twenty.” + +“No.” + +“Twenty-five.” + +“No.” + +“Say thirty.” + +“The price is forty thousand dollars; not a penny less.” + +“All right, I’ll give it. I will come to the hotel at ten in the +morning. I don’t want it known; will see you privately.” + +“Very good.” Then the stranger got up and said to the house: + +“I find it late. The speeches of these gentlemen are not without merit, +not without interest, not without grace; yet if I may be excused I will +take my leave. I thank you for the great favour which you have shown me +in granting my petition. I ask the Chair to keep the sack for me until +to-morrow, and to hand these three five-hundred-dollar notes to Mr. +Richards.” They were passed up to the Chair. + +“At nine I will call for the sack, and at eleven will deliver the rest +of the ten thousand to Mr. Richards in person at his home. Good-night.” + +Then he slipped out, and left the audience making a vast noise, +which was composed of a mixture of cheers, the “Mikado” song, +dog-disapproval, and the chant, “You are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-d +man--a-a-a a-men!” + + + + +IV. + + +At home the Richardses had to endure congratulations and compliments +until midnight. Then they were left to themselves. They looked a little +sad, and they sat silent and thinking. Finally Mary sighed and said: + +“Do you think we are to blame, Edward--_much_ to blame?” and her eyes +wandered to the accusing triplet of big bank-notes lying on the table, +where the congratulators had been gloating over them and reverently +fingering them. Edward did not answer at once; then he brought out a +sigh and said, hesitatingly: + +“We--we couldn’t help it, Mary. It--well it was ordered. _All_ things +are.” + +Mary glanced up and looked at him steadily, but he didn’t return the +look. Presently she said: + +“I thought congratulations and praises always tasted good. But--it +seems to me, now--Edward?” + +“Well?” + +“Are you going to stay in the bank?” + +“N--no.” + +“Resign?” + +“In the morning--by note.” + +“It does seem best.” + +Richards bowed his head in his hands and muttered: + +“Before I was not afraid to let oceans of people’s money pour through +my hands, but--Mary, I am so tired, so tired--” + +“We will go to bed.” + +At nine in the morning the stranger called for the sack and took it to +the hotel in a cab. At ten Harkness had a talk with him privately. The +stranger asked for and got five cheques on a metropolitan bank--drawn +to “Bearer,”--four for $1,500 each, and one for $34,000. He put one of +the former in his pocket-book, and the remainder, representing $38,500, +he put in an envelope, and with these he added a note which he wrote +after Harkness was gone. At eleven he called at the Richards’ house +and knocked. Mrs. Richards peeped through the shutters, then went and +received the envelope, and the stranger disappeared without a word. She +came back flushed and a little unsteady on her legs, and gasped out: + +“I am sure I recognised him! Last night it seemed to me that maybe I +had seen him somewhere before.” + +“He is the man that brought the sack here?” + +“I am almost sure of it.” + +“Then he is the ostensible Stephenson too, and sold every important +citizen in this town with his bogus secret. Now if he has sent cheques +instead of money, we are sold too, after we thought we had escaped. I +was beginning to feel fairly comfortable once more, after my night’s +rest, but the look of that envelope makes me sick. It isn’t fat enough; +$8,500 in even the largest bank-notes makes more bulk than that.” + +“Edward, why do you object to cheques?” + +“Cheques signed by Stephenson! I am resigned to take the $8,500 if it +could come in bank-notes--for it does seem that it was so ordered, +Mary--but I have never had much courage, and I have not the pluck to +try to market a cheque signed with that disastrous name. It would be a +trap. That man tried to catch me; we escaped somehow or other; and now +he is trying a new way. If it is cheques--” + +“Oh, Edward, it is _too_ bad!” And she held up the cheques and began to +cry. + +“Put them in the fire! quick! we mustn’t be tempted. It is a trick +to make the world laugh at _us_, along with the rest, and--Give them +to _me_, since you can’t do it!” He snatched them and tried to hold +his grip till he could get to the stove; but he was human, he was a +cashier, and he stopped a moment to make sure of the signature. Then he +came near to fainting. + +“Fan me, Mary, fan me! They are the same as gold!” + +“Oh, how lovely, Edward! Why?” + +“Signed by Harkness. What can the mystery of that be, Mary?” + +“Edward, do you think--” + +“Look here--look at this! Fifteen--fifteen--fifteen--thirty-four. +Thirty-eight thousand five hundred! Mary, the sack isn’t worth twelve +dollars, and Harkness--apparently--has paid about par for it.” + +“And does it all come to us, do you think--instead of the ten thousand?” + +“Why, it looks like it. And the cheques are made to ‘Bearer,’ too.” + +“Is that good, Edward? What is it for?” + +“A hint to collect them at some distant bank, I reckon. Perhaps +Harkness doesn’t want the matter known. What is that--a note?” + +“Yes. It was with the cheques.” + +It was in the “Stephenson” handwriting, but there was no signature. It +said: + + “I am a disappointed man. Your honesty is beyond the reach of + temptation. I had a different idea about it, but I wronged you in + that, and I beg pardon, and do it sincerely. I honour you--and that + is sincere too. This town is not worthy to kiss the hem of your + garment. Dear sir, I made a square bet with myself that there were + nineteen debauchable men in your self-righteous community. I have + lost. Take the whole pot, you are entitled to it.” + +Richards drew a deep sigh, and said: + +“It seems written with fire--it burns so. Mary--I am miserable again.” + +“I, too. Ah, dear, I wish--” + +“To think, Mary--he _believes_ in me.” + + +“Oh, don’t, Edward--I can’t bear it.” + +“If those beautiful words were deserved, Mary--and God knows I believed I +deserved them once--I think I could give the forty thousand dollars for +them. And I would put that paper away, as representing more than gold +and jewels, and keep it always. But now--We could not live in the shadow +of its accusing presence, Mary.” + +He put it in the fire. + +A messenger arrived and delivered an envelope. Richards took from it a +note and read it; it was from Burgess: + + “You saved me, in a difficult time. I saved you last night. It was + at cost of a lie, but I made the sacrifice freely, and out of a + grateful heart. None in this village knows so well as I know how + brave and good and noble you are. At bottom you cannot respect me, + knowing as you do of that matter of which I am accused, and by the + general voice condemned; but I beg that you will at least believe that + I am a grateful man; it will help me to bear my burden. [Signed] + ‘BURGESS.’” + +“Saved, once more. And on such terms!” He put the note in the fire. +“I--I wish I were dead, Mary, I wish I were out of it all!” + +“Oh, these are bitter, bitter days, Edward. The stabs, through their +very generosity, are so deep--and they come so fast!” + +Three days before the election each of two thousand voters suddenly +found himself in possession of a prized memento--one of the renowned +bogus double-eagles. Around one of its faces was stamped these words: +“THE REMARK I MADE TO THE POOR STRANGER WAS--” Around the other face +was stamped these: “GO, AND REFORM. [SIGNED] PINKERTON.” Thus the +entire remaining refuse of the renowned joke was emptied upon a single +head, and with calamitous effect. It revived the recent vast laugh and +concentrated it upon Pinkerton; and Harkness’s election was a walk-over. + +Within twenty-four hours after the Richardses had received their +cheques their consciences were quieting down, discouraged; the old +couple were learning to reconcile themselves to the sin which they had +committed. But they were to learn, now, that a sin takes on new and +real terrors when there seems a chance that it is going to be found +out. This gives it a fresh and most substantial and important aspect. +At church the morning sermon was of the usual pattern; it was the same +old things said in the same old way; they had heard them a thousand +times and found them innocuous, next to meaningless, and easy to sleep +under; but now it was different: the sermon seemed to bristle with +accusations; it seemed aimed straight and specially at people who were +concealing deadly sins. After church they got away from the mob of +congratulators as soon as they could, and hurried homeward, chilled to +the bone at they did not know what--vague, shadowy, indefinite fears. +And by chance they caught a glimpse of Mr. Burgess as he turned a +corner. He paid no attention to their nod of recognition! He hadn’t +seen it; but they did not know that. What could his conduct mean? +It might mean--it might--mean--oh, a dozen dreadful things. Was it +possible that he knew that Richards could have cleared him of guilt in +that bygone time, and had been silently waiting for a chance to even +up accounts? At home, in their distress they got to imagining that +their servant might have been in the next room listening when Richards +revealed the secret to his wife that he knew of Burgess’s innocence; +next Richards began to imagine that he had heard the swish of a gown +in there at that time; next, he was sure he _had_ heard it. They would +call Sarah in, on a pretext, and watch her face; if she had been +betraying them to Mr. Burgess, it would show in her manner. They asked +her some questions--questions which were so random and incoherent and +seemingly purposeless that the girl felt sure that the old people’s +minds had been affected by their sudden good fortune; the sharp and +watchful gaze which they bent upon her frightened her, and that +completed the business. She blushed, she became nervous and confused, +and to the old people these were plain signs of guilt--guilt of some +fearful sort or other--without doubt she was a spy and a traitor. +When they were alone again they began to piece many unrelated things +together and get horrible results out of the combination. When things +had got about to the worst Richards was delivered of a sudden gasp and +his wife asked: + +“Oh, what is it?--what is it?” + +“The note--Burgess’s note! Its language was sarcastic, I see it now.” +He quoted: “‘At bottom you cannot respect me, _knowing_, as you do, +of _that matter of_ which I am accused’--oh, it is perfectly plain, +now, God help me! He knows that I know! You see the ingenuity of the +phrasing. It was a trap--and like a fool, I walked into it. And Mary--!” + +“Oh, it is dreadful--I know what you are going to say--he didn’t return +your transcript of the pretended test-remark.” + +“No--kept it to destroy us with. Mary, he has exposed us to some +already. I know it--I know it well. I saw it in a dozen faces after +church. Ah, he wouldn’t answer our nod of recognition--he knew what he +had been doing!” + +In the night the doctor was called. The news went around in the +morning that the old couple were rather seriously ill--prostrated by +the exhausting excitement growing out of their great windfall, the +congratulations, and the late hours, the doctor said. The town was +sincerely distressed; for these old people were about all it had left +to be proud of, now. + +Two days later the news was worse. The old couple were delirious, and +were doing strange things. By witness of the nurses, Richards had +exhibited cheques--for $8,500? No--for an amazing sum--$38,500! What +could be the explanation of this gigantic piece of luck? + +The following day the nurses had more news--and wonderful. They had +concluded to hide the cheques, lest harm come to them; but when they +searched they were gone from under the patient’s pillow--vanished away. +The patient said: + +“Let the pillow alone; what do you want?” + +“We thought it best that the cheques--” + +“You will never see them again--they are destroyed. They came from +Satan. I saw the hell-brand on them, and I knew they were sent to +betray me to sin.” Then he fell to gabbling strange and dreadful things +which were not clearly understandable, and which the doctor admonished +them to keep to themselves. + +Richards was right; the cheques were never seen again. + +A nurse must have talked in her sleep, for within two days the +forbidden gabblings were the property of the town; and they were of +a surprising sort. They seemed to indicate that Richards had been a +claimant for the sack himself, and that Burgess had concealed that fact +and then maliciously betrayed it. + +Burgess was taxed with this and stoutly denied it. And he said it was +not fair to attach weight to the chatter of a sick old man who was out +of his mind. Still, suspicion was in the air, and there was much talk. + +After a day or two it was reported that Mrs. Richards’s delirious +deliveries were getting to be duplicates of her husband’s. Suspicion +flamed up into conviction, now, and the town’s pride in the purity of +its one undiscredited important citizen began to dim down and flicker +toward extinction. + +Six days passed, then came more news. The old couple were dying. +Richards’s mind cleared in his latest hour, and he sent for Burgess. +Burgess said: + +“Let the room be cleared. I think he wishes to say something in +privacy.” + +“No!” said Richards; “I want witnesses. I want you all to hear +my confession, so that I may die a man, and not a dog. I was +clean--artificially--like the rest; and like the rest I fell when +temptation came. I signed a lie, and claimed the miserable sack. Mr. +Burgess remembered that I had done him a service, and in gratitude (and +ignorance) he suppressed my claim and saved me. You know the thing that +was charged against Burgess years ago. My testimony, and mine alone, +could have cleared him, and I was a coward and left him to suffer +disgrace--” + +“No--no--Mr. Richards, you--” + +“My servant betrayed my secret to him--” + +“No one has betrayed anything to me--” + +--“And then he did a natural and justifiable thing; he repented of +the saving kindness which he had done me, and he _exposed_ me--as I +deserved--” + +“Never!--I make oath--” + +“Out of my heart I forgive him.” + +Burgess’s impassioned protestations fell upon deaf ears; the dying man +passed away without knowing that once more he had done poor Burgess a +wrong. The old wife died that night. + +The last of the sacred Nineteen had fallen a prey to the fiendish +sack; the town was stripped of the last rag of its ancient glory. Its +mourning was not showy, but it was deep. + +By act of the Legislature--upon prayer and petition--Hadleyburg was +allowed to change its name to (never mind what--I will not give it +away), and leave one word out of the motto that for many generations +had graced the town’s official seal. + +It is an honest town once more, and the man will have to rise early +that catches it napping again. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN THAT CORRUPTED HADLEYBURG *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law 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™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following +the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use +of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for +copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very +easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation +of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project +Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may +do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected +by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark +license, especially commercial redistribution. + +START: FULL LICENSE + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the +person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph +1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the +Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when +you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country other than the United States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work +on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: + + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and + most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the + United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where + you are located before using this eBook. + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg™ License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format +other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain +Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +provided that: + +• You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation.” + +• You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ + works. + +• You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + +• You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of +the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set +forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ + +Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at +www.gutenberg.org. + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. + +The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, +Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up +to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website +and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact. + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without +widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular +state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate. + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate. + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic +works + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. + +Most people start at our website which has the main PG search +facility: www.gutenberg.org. + +This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, +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/old/old/1213-0.zip b/old/old/1213-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..25f584e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/1213-0.zip diff --git a/old/old/1213-h.zip b/old/old/1213-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0aa8d8b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/1213-h.zip diff --git a/old/old/1213-h/1213-h.htm b/old/old/1213-h/1213-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a91ccb6 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/1213-h/1213-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2285 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4 { + text-align: left; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> + + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg, by Mark +Twain</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Mark Twain</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: April 1, 2005 [eBook #1213]<br> +[Most recently updated: August 11, 2023]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: David Price, +email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk Transcribed from the 1907 Chatto & Windus edition</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN THAT CORRUPTED HADLEYBURG ***</div> + +<p><a id="startoftext"></a></p> + +<h1>THE MAN THAT CORRUPTED HADLEYBURG</h1> +<h2>I.</h2> +<p>It was many years ago. Hadleyburg was the most honest and upright +town in all the region round about. It had kept that reputation +unsmirched during three generations, and was prouder of it than of any +other of its possessions. It was so proud of it, and so anxious +to insure its perpetuation, that it began to teach the principles of +honest dealing to its babies in the cradle, and made the like teachings +the staple of their culture thenceforward through all the years devoted +to their education. Also, throughout the formative years temptations +were kept out of the way of the young people, so that their honesty +could have every chance to harden and solidify, and become a part of +their very bone. The neighbouring towns were jealous of this honourable +supremacy, and affected to sneer at Hadleyburg’s pride in it and +call it vanity; but all the same they were obliged to acknowledge that +Hadleyburg was in reality an incorruptible town; and if pressed they +would also acknowledge that the mere fact that a young man hailed from +Hadleyburg was all the recommendation he needed when he went forth from +his natal town to seek for responsible employment.</p> +<p>But at last, in the drift of time, Hadleyburg had the ill luck to +offend a passing stranger—possibly without knowing it, certainly +without caring, for Hadleyburg was sufficient unto itself, and cared +not a rap for strangers or their opinions. Still, it would have +been well to make an exception in this one’s case, for he was +a bitter man, and revengeful. All through his wanderings during +a whole year he kept his injury in mind, and gave all his leisure moments +to trying to invent a compensating satisfaction for it. He contrived +many plans, and all of them were good, but none of them was quite sweeping +enough: the poorest of them would hurt a great many individuals, but +what he wanted was a plan which would comprehend the entire town, and +not let so much as one person escape unhurt. At last he had a +fortunate idea, and when it fell into his brain it lit up his whole +head with an evil joy. He began to form a plan at once, saying +to himself “That is the thing to do—I will corrupt the town.”</p> +<p>Six months later he went to Hadleyburg, and arrived in a buggy at +the house of the old cashier of the bank about ten at night. He +got a sack out of the buggy, shouldered it, and staggered with it through +the cottage yard, and knocked at the door. A woman’s voice +said “Come in,” and he entered, and set his sack behind +the stove in the parlour, saying politely to the old lady who sat reading +the “Missionary Herald” by the lamp:</p> +<p>“Pray keep your seat, madam, I will not disturb you. +There—now it is pretty well concealed; one would hardly know it +was there. Can I see your husband a moment, madam?”</p> +<p>No, he was gone to Brixton, and might not return before morning.</p> +<p>“Very well, madam, it is no matter. I merely wanted to +leave that sack in his care, to be delivered to the rightful owner when +he shall be found. I am a stranger; he does not know me; I am +merely passing through the town to-night to discharge a matter which +has been long in my mind. My errand is now completed, and I go +pleased and a little proud, and you will never see me again. There +is a paper attached to the sack which will explain everything. +Good-night, madam.”</p> +<p>The old lady was afraid of the mysterious big stranger, and was glad +to see him go. But her curiosity was roused, and she went straight +to the sack and brought away the paper. It began as follows:</p> +<blockquote><p>“TO BE PUBLISHED, or, the right man sought out +by private inquiry—either will answer. This sack contains +gold coin weighing a hundred and sixty pounds four ounces—”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Mercy on us, and the door not locked!”</p> +<p>Mrs. Richards flew to it all in a tremble and locked it, then pulled +down the window-shades and stood frightened, worried, and wondering +if there was anything else she could do toward making herself and the +money more safe. She listened awhile for burglars, then surrendered +to curiosity, and went back to the lamp and finished reading the paper:</p> +<blockquote><p>“I am a foreigner, and am presently going back +to my own country, to remain there permanently. I am grateful +to America for what I have received at her hands during my long stay +under her flag; and to one of her citizens—a citizen of Hadleyburg—I +am especially grateful for a great kindness done me a year or two ago. +Two great kindnesses in fact. I will explain. I was a gambler. +I say I WAS. I was a ruined gambler. I arrived in this village +at night, hungry and without a penny. I asked for help—in +the dark; I was ashamed to beg in the light. I begged of the right +man. He gave me twenty dollars—that is to say, he gave me +life, as I considered it. He also gave me fortune; for out of +that money I have made myself rich at the gaming-table. And finally, +a remark which he made to me has remained with me to this day, and has +at last conquered me; and in conquering has saved the remnant of my +morals: I shall gamble no more. Now I have no idea who that man +was, but I want him found, and I want him to have this money, to give +away, throw away, or keep, as he pleases. It is merely my way +of testifying my gratitude to him. If I could stay, I would find +him myself; but no matter, he will be found. This is an honest +town, an incorruptible town, and I know I can trust it without fear. +This man can be identified by the remark which he made to me; I feel +persuaded that he will remember it.</p> +<p>“And now my plan is this: If you prefer to conduct the inquiry +privately, do so. Tell the contents of this present writing to +any one who is likely to be the right man. If he shall answer, +‘I am the man; the remark I made was so-and-so,’ apply the +test—to wit: open the sack, and in it you will find a sealed envelope +containing that remark. If the remark mentioned by the candidate +tallies with it, give him the money, and ask no further questions, for +he is certainly the right man.</p> +<p>“But if you shall prefer a public inquiry, then publish this +present writing in the local paper—with these instructions added, +to wit: Thirty days from now, let the candidate appear at the town-hall +at eight in the evening (Friday), and hand his remark, in a sealed envelope, +to the Rev. Mr. Burgess (if he will be kind enough to act); and let +Mr. Burgess there and then destroy the seals of the sack, open it, and +see if the remark is correct: if correct, let the money be delivered, +with my sincere gratitude, to my benefactor thus identified.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Mrs. Richards sat down, gently quivering with excitement, and was +soon lost in thinkings—after this pattern: “What a strange +thing it is! ... And what a fortune for that kind man who set his +bread afloat upon the waters! ... If it had only been my husband that +did it!—for we are so poor, so old and poor! ...” +Then, with a sigh—“But it was not my Edward; no, it was +not he that gave a stranger twenty dollars. It is a pity too; +I see it now... ” Then, with a shudder—“But +it is <i>gamblers</i>’ money! the wages of sin; we couldn’t +take it; we couldn’t touch it. I don’t like to be +near it; it seems a defilement.” She moved to a farther +chair... “I wish Edward would come, and take it to the bank; +a burglar might come at any moment; it is dreadful to be here all alone +with it.”</p> +<p>At eleven Mr. Richards arrived, and while his wife was saying “I +am <i>so</i> glad you’ve come!” he was saying, “I +am so tired—tired clear out; it is dreadful to be poor, and have +to make these dismal journeys at my time of life. Always at the +grind, grind, grind, on a salary—another man’s slave, and +he sitting at home in his slippers, rich and comfortable.”</p> +<p>“I am so sorry for you, Edward, you know that; but be comforted; +we have our livelihood; we have our good name—”</p> +<p>“Yes, Mary, and that is everything. Don’t mind +my talk—it’s just a moment’s irritation and doesn’t +mean anything. Kiss me—there, it’s all gone now, and +I am not complaining any more. What have you been getting? +What’s in the sack?”</p> +<p>Then his wife told him the great secret. It dazed him for a +moment; then he said:</p> +<p>“It weighs a hundred and sixty pounds? Why, Mary, it’s +for-ty thou-sand dollars—think of it—a whole fortune! +Not ten men in this village are worth that much. Give me the paper.”</p> +<p>He skimmed through it and said:</p> +<p>“Isn’t it an adventure! Why, it’s a romance; +it’s like the impossible things one reads about in books, and +never sees in life.” He was well stirred up now; cheerful, +even gleeful. He tapped his old wife on the cheek, and said humorously, +“Why, we’re rich, Mary, rich; all we’ve got to do +is to bury the money and burn the papers. If the gambler ever +comes to inquire, we’ll merely look coldly upon him and say: ‘What +is this nonsense you are talking? We have never heard of you and +your sack of gold before;’ and then he would look foolish, and—”</p> +<p>“And in the meantime, while you are running on with your jokes, +the money is still here, and it is fast getting along toward burglar-time.”</p> +<p>“True. Very well, what shall we do—make the inquiry +private? No, not that; it would spoil the romance. The public +method is better. Think what a noise it will make! And it +will make all the other towns jealous; for no stranger would trust such +a thing to any town but Hadleyburg, and they know it. It’s +a great card for us. I must get to the printing-office now, or +I shall be too late.”</p> +<p>“But stop—stop—don’t leave me here alone +with it, Edward!”</p> +<p>But he was gone. For only a little while, however. Not +far from his own house he met the editor—proprietor of the paper, +and gave him the document, and said “Here is a good thing for +you, Cox—put it in.”</p> +<p>“It may be too late, Mr. Richards, but I’ll see.”</p> +<p>At home again, he and his wife sat down to talk the charming mystery +over; they were in no condition for sleep. The first question +was, Who could the citizen have been who gave the stranger the twenty +dollars? It seemed a simple one; both answered it in the same +breath—</p> +<p>“Barclay Goodson.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Richards, “he could have done it, and +it would have been like him, but there’s not another in the town.”</p> +<p>“Everybody will grant that, Edward—grant it privately, +anyway. For six months, now, the village has been its own proper +self once more—honest, narrow, self-righteous, and stingy.”</p> +<p>“It is what he always called it, to the day of his death—said +it right out publicly, too.”</p> +<p>“Yes, and he was hated for it.”</p> +<p>“Oh, of course; but he didn’t care. I reckon he +was the best-hated man among us, except the Reverend Burgess.”</p> +<p>“Well, Burgess deserves it—he will never get another +congregation here. Mean as the town is, it knows how to estimate +<i>him</i>. Edward, doesn’t it seem odd that the stranger +should appoint Burgess to deliver the money?”</p> +<p>“Well, yes—it does. That is—that is—”</p> +<p>“Why so much that-<i>is</i>-ing? Would <i>you</i> select +him?”</p> +<p>“Mary, maybe the stranger knows him better than this village +does.”</p> +<p>“Much <i>that</i> would help Burgess!”</p> +<p>The husband seemed perplexed for an answer; the wife kept a steady +eye upon him, and waited. Finally Richards said, with the hesitancy +of one who is making a statement which is likely to encounter doubt,</p> +<p>“Mary, Burgess is not a bad man.”</p> +<p>His wife was certainly surprised.</p> +<p>“Nonsense!” she exclaimed.</p> +<p>“He is not a bad man. I know. The whole of his +unpopularity had its foundation in that one thing—the thing that +made so much noise.”</p> +<p>“That ‘one thing,’ indeed! As if that ‘one +thing’ wasn’t enough, all by itself.”</p> +<p>“Plenty. Plenty. Only he wasn’t guilty of +it.”</p> +<p>“How you talk! Not guilty of it! Everybody knows +he <i>was</i> guilty.”</p> +<p>“Mary, I give you my word—he was innocent.”</p> +<p>“I can’t believe it and I don’t. How do you +know?”</p> +<p>“It is a confession. I am ashamed, but I will make it. +I was the only man who knew he was innocent. I could have saved +him, and—and—well, you know how the town was wrought up—I +hadn’t the pluck to do it. It would have turned everybody +against me. I felt mean, ever so mean; but I didn’t dare; +I hadn’t the manliness to face that.”</p> +<p>Mary looked troubled, and for a while was silent. Then she +said stammeringly:</p> +<p>“I—I don’t think it would have done for you to—to—One +mustn’t—er—public opinion—one has to be so careful—so—” +It was a difficult road, and she got mired; but after a little she got +started again. “It was a great pity, but—Why, we couldn’t +afford it, Edward—we couldn’t indeed. Oh, I wouldn’t +have had you do it for anything!”</p> +<p>“It would have lost us the good-will of so many people, Mary; +and then—and then—”</p> +<p>“What troubles me now is, what <i>he</i> thinks of us, Edward.”</p> +<p>“He? <i>He</i> doesn’t suspect that I could have +saved him.”</p> +<p>“Oh,” exclaimed the wife, in a tone of relief, “I +am glad of that. As long as he doesn’t know that you could +have saved him, he—he—well that makes it a great deal better. +Why, I might have known he didn’t know, because he is always trying +to be friendly with us, as little encouragement as we give him. +More than once people have twitted me with it. There’s the +Wilsons, and the Wilcoxes, and the Harknesses, they take a mean pleasure +in saying ‘<i>Your friend</i> Burgess,’ because they know +it pesters me. I wish he wouldn’t persist in liking us so; +I can’t think why he keeps it up.”</p> +<p>“I can explain it. It’s another confession. +When the thing was new and hot, and the town made a plan to ride him +on a rail, my conscience hurt me so that I couldn’t stand it, +and I went privately and gave him notice, and he got out of the town +and stayed out till it was safe to come back.”</p> +<p>“Edward! If the town had found it out—”</p> +<p>“<i>Don’t</i>! It scares me yet, to think of it. +I repented of it the minute it was done; and I was even afraid to tell +you lest your face might betray it to somebody. I didn’t +sleep any that night, for worrying. But after a few days I saw +that no one was going to suspect me, and after that I got to feeling +glad I did it. And I feel glad yet, Mary—glad through and +through.”</p> +<p>“So do I, now, for it would have been a dreadful way to treat +him. Yes, I’m glad; for really you did owe him that, you +know. But, Edward, suppose it should come out yet, some day!”</p> +<p>“It won’t.”</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>“Because everybody thinks it was Goodson.”</p> +<p>“Of course they would!”</p> +<p>“Certainly. And of course <i>he</i> didn’t care. +They persuaded poor old Sawlsberry to go and charge it on him, and he +went blustering over there and did it. Goodson looked him over, +like as if he was hunting for a place on him that he could despise the +most; then he says, ‘So you are the Committee of Inquiry, are +you?’ Sawlsberry said that was about what he was. +‘H’m. Do they require particulars, or do you reckon +a kind of a <i>general</i> answer will do?’ ‘If they +require particulars, I will come back, Mr. Goodson; I will take the +general answer first.’ ‘Very well, then, tell them +to go to hell—I reckon that’s general enough. And +I’ll give you some advice, Sawlsberry; when you come back for +the particulars, fetch a basket to carry what is left of yourself home +in.’”</p> +<p>“Just like Goodson; it’s got all the marks. He +had only one vanity; he thought he could give advice better than any +other person.”</p> +<p>“It settled the business, and saved us, Mary. The subject +was dropped.”</p> +<p>“Bless you, I’m not doubting <i>that</i>.”</p> +<p>Then they took up the gold-sack mystery again, with strong interest. +Soon the conversation began to suffer breaks—interruptions caused +by absorbed thinkings. The breaks grew more and more frequent. +At last Richards lost himself wholly in thought. He sat long, +gazing vacantly at the floor, and by-and-by he began to punctuate his +thoughts with little nervous movements of his hands that seemed to indicate +vexation. Meantime his wife too had relapsed into a thoughtful +silence, and her movements were beginning to show a troubled discomfort. +Finally Richards got up and strode aimlessly about the room, ploughing +his hands through his hair, much as a somnambulist might do who was +having a bad dream. Then he seemed to arrive at a definite purpose; +and without a word he put on his hat and passed quickly out of the house. +His wife sat brooding, with a drawn face, and did not seem to be aware +that she was alone. Now and then she murmured, “Lead us +not into t ... but—but—we are so poor, so poor! ... +Lead us not into.... Ah, who would be hurt by it?—and no one +would ever know.... Lead us.... ” The voice died out +in mumblings. After a little she glanced up and muttered in a +half-frightened, half-glad way—</p> +<p>“He is gone! But, oh dear, he may be too late—too +late.... Maybe not—maybe there is still time.” She +rose and stood thinking, nervously clasping and unclasping her hands. +A slight shudder shook her frame, and she said, out of a dry throat, +“God forgive me—it’s awful to think such things—but.... Lord, how we are made—how strangely we are made!”</p> +<p>She turned the light low, and slipped stealthily over and knelt down +by the sack and felt of its ridgy sides with her hands, and fondled +them lovingly; and there was a gloating light in her poor old eyes. +She fell into fits of absence; and came half out of them at times to +mutter “If we had only waited!—oh, if we had only waited +a little, and not been in such a hurry!”</p> +<p>Meantime Cox had gone home from his office and told his wife all +about the strange thing that had happened, and they had talked it over +eagerly, and guessed that the late Goodson was the only man in the town +who could have helped a suffering stranger with so noble a sum as twenty +dollars. Then there was a pause, and the two became thoughtful +and silent. And by-and-by nervous and fidgety. At last the +wife said, as if to herself,</p> +<p>“Nobody knows this secret but the Richardses ... and us ... nobody.”</p> +<p>The husband came out of his thinkings with a slight start, and gazed +wistfully at his wife, whose face was become very pale; then he hesitatingly +rose, and glanced furtively at his hat, then at his wife—a sort +of mute inquiry. Mrs. Cox swallowed once or twice, with her hand +at her throat, then in place of speech she nodded her head. In +a moment she was alone, and mumbling to herself.</p> +<p>And now Richards and Cox were hurrying through the deserted streets, +from opposite directions. They met, panting, at the foot of the +printing-office stairs; by the night-light there they read each other’s +face. Cox whispered:</p> +<p>“Nobody knows about this but us?”</p> +<p>The whispered answer was:</p> +<p>“Not a soul—on honour, not a soul!”</p> +<p>“If it isn’t too late to—”</p> +<p>The men were starting up-stairs; at this moment they were overtaken +by a boy, and Cox asked,</p> +<p>“Is that you, Johnny?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>“You needn’t ship the early mail—nor <i>any</i> +mail; wait till I tell you.”</p> +<p>“It’s already gone, sir.”</p> +<p>“<i>Gone</i>?” It had the sound of an unspeakable +disappointment in it.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. Time-table for Brixton and all the towns beyond +changed to-day, sir—had to get the papers in twenty minutes earlier +than common. I had to rush; if I had been two minutes later—”</p> +<p>The men turned and walked slowly away, not waiting to hear the rest. +Neither of them spoke during ten minutes; then Cox said, in a vexed +tone,</p> +<p>“What possessed you to be in such a hurry, <i>I</i> can’t +make out.”</p> +<p>The answer was humble enough:</p> +<p>“I see it now, but somehow I never thought, you know, until +it was too late. But the next time—”</p> +<p>“Next time be hanged! It won’t come in a thousand +years.”</p> +<p>Then the friends separated without a good-night, and dragged themselves +home with the gait of mortally stricken men. At their homes their +wives sprang up with an eager “Well?”—then saw the +answer with their eyes and sank down sorrowing, without waiting for +it to come in words. In both houses a discussion followed of a +heated sort—a new thing; there had been discussions before, but +not heated ones, not ungentle ones. The discussions to-night were +a sort of seeming plagiarisms of each other. Mrs. Richards said:</p> +<p>“If you had only waited, Edward—if you had only stopped +to think; but no, you must run straight to the printing-office and spread +it all over the world.”</p> +<p>“It <i>said</i> publish it.”</p> +<p>“That is nothing; it also said do it privately, if you liked. +There, now—is that true, or not?”</p> +<p>“Why, yes—yes, it is true; but when I thought what a +stir it would make, and what a compliment it was to Hadleyburg that +a stranger should trust it so—”</p> +<p>“Oh, certainly, I know all that; but if you had only stopped +to think, you would have seen that you <i>couldn’t</i> find the +right man, because he is in his grave, and hasn’t left chick nor +child nor relation behind him; and as long as the money went to somebody +that awfully needed it, and nobody would be hurt by it, and—and—”</p> +<p>She broke down, crying. Her husband tried to think of some +comforting thing to say, and presently came out with this:</p> +<p>“But after all, Mary, it must be for the best—it must +be; we know that. And we must remember that it was so ordered—”</p> +<p>“Ordered! Oh, everything’s <i>ordered</i>, when +a person has to find some way out when he has been stupid. Just the +same, it was <i>ordered</i> that the money should come to us in this +special way, and it was you that must take it on yourself to go meddling +with the designs of Providence—and who gave you the right? +It was wicked, that is what it was—just blasphemous presumption, +and no more becoming to a meek and humble professor of—”</p> +<p>“But, Mary, you know how we have been trained all our lives +long, like the whole village, till it is absolutely second nature to +us to stop not a single moment to think when there’s an honest +thing to be done—”</p> +<p>“Oh, I know it, I know it—it’s been one everlasting +training and training and training in honesty—honesty shielded, +from the very cradle, against every possible temptation, and so it’s +<i>artificial</i> honesty, and weak as water when temptation comes, +as we have seen this night. God knows I never had shade nor shadow +of a doubt of my petrified and indestructible honesty until now—and +now, under the very first big and real temptation, I—Edward, it +is my belief that this town’s honesty is as rotten as mine is; +as rotten as yours. It is a mean town, a hard, stingy town, and +hasn’t a virtue in the world but this honesty it is so celebrated +for and so conceited about; and so help me, I do believe that if ever +the day comes that its honesty falls under great temptation, its grand +reputation will go to ruin like a house of cards. There, now, +I’ve made confession, and I feel better; I am a humbug, and I’ve +been one all my life, without knowing it. Let no man call me honest +again—I will not have it.”</p> +<p>“I—Well, Mary, I feel a good deal as you do: I certainly +do. It seems strange, too, so strange. I never could have +believed it—never.”</p> +<p>A long silence followed; both were sunk in thought. At last +the wife looked up and said:</p> +<p>“I know what you are thinking, Edward.”</p> +<p>Richards had the embarrassed look of a person who is caught.</p> +<p>“I am ashamed to confess it, Mary, but—”</p> +<p>“It’s no matter, Edward, I was thinking the same question +myself.”</p> +<p>“I hope so. State it.”</p> +<p>“You were thinking, if a body could only guess out <i>what +the remark was</i> that Goodson made to the stranger.”</p> +<p>“It’s perfectly true. I feel guilty and ashamed. +And you?”</p> +<p>“I’m past it. Let us make a pallet here; we’ve +got to stand watch till the bank vault opens in the morning and admits +the sack... Oh dear, oh dear—if we hadn’t made the mistake!”</p> +<p>The pallet was made, and Mary said:</p> +<p>“The open sesame—what could it have been? I do +wonder what that remark could have been. But come; we will get +to bed now.”</p> +<p>“And sleep?”</p> +<p>“No; think.”</p> +<p>“Yes; think.”</p> +<p>By this time the Coxes too had completed their spat and their reconciliation, +and were turning in—to think, to think, and toss, and fret, and +worry over what the remark could possibly have been which Goodson made +to the stranded derelict; that golden remark; that remark worth forty +thousand dollars, cash.</p> +<p>The reason that the village telegraph-office was open later than +usual that night was this: The foreman of Cox’s paper was the +local representative of the Associated Press. One might say its +honorary representative, for it wasn’t four times a year that +he could furnish thirty words that would be accepted. But this +time it was different. His despatch stating what he had caught +got an instant answer:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Send the whole thing—all the details—twelve +hundred words.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>A colossal order! The foreman filled the bill; and he was the +proudest man in the State. By breakfast-time the next morning +the name of Hadleyburg the Incorruptible was on every lip in America, +from Montreal to the Gulf, from the glaciers of Alaska to the orange-groves +of Florida; and millions and millions of people were discussing the +stranger and his money-sack, and wondering if the right man would be +found, and hoping some more news about the matter would come soon—right +away.</p> +<h2>II.</h2> +<p>Hadleyburg village woke up world-celebrated—astonished—happy—vain. +Vain beyond imagination. Its nineteen principal citizens and their +wives went about shaking hands with each other, and beaming, and smiling, +and congratulating, and saying <i>this</i> thing adds a new word to +the dictionary—<i>Hadleyburg</i>, synonym for <i>incorruptible</i>—destined +to live in dictionaries for ever! And the minor and unimportant +citizens and their wives went around acting in much the same way. +Everybody ran to the bank to see the gold-sack; and before noon grieved +and envious crowds began to flock in from Brixton and all neighbouring +towns; and that afternoon and next day reporters began to arrive from +everywhere to verify the sack and its history and write the whole thing +up anew, and make dashing free-hand pictures of the sack, and of Richards’s +house, and the bank, and the Presbyterian church, and the Baptist church, +and the public square, and the town-hall where the test would be applied +and the money delivered; and damnable portraits of the Richardses, and +Pinkerton the banker, and Cox, and the foreman, and Reverend Burgess, +and the postmaster—and even of Jack Halliday, who was the loafing, +good-natured, no-account, irreverent fisherman, hunter, boys’ +friend, stray-dogs’ friend, typical “Sam Lawson” of +the town. The little mean, smirking, oily Pinkerton showed the +sack to all comers, and rubbed his sleek palms together pleasantly, +and enlarged upon the town’s fine old reputation for honesty and +upon this wonderful endorsement of it, and hoped and believed that the +example would now spread far and wide over the American world, and be +epoch-making in the matter of moral regeneration. And so on, and +so on.</p> +<p>By the end of a week things had quieted down again; the wild intoxication +of pride and joy had sobered to a soft, sweet, silent delight—a +sort of deep, nameless, unutterable content. All faces bore a +look of peaceful, holy happiness.</p> +<p>Then a change came. It was a gradual change; so gradual that +its beginnings were hardly noticed; maybe were not noticed at all, except +by Jack Halliday, who always noticed everything; and always made fun +of it, too, no matter what it was. He began to throw out chaffing +remarks about people not looking quite so happy as they did a day or +two ago; and next he claimed that the new aspect was deepening to positive +sadness; next, that it was taking on a sick look; and finally he said +that everybody was become so moody, thoughtful, and absent-minded that +he could rob the meanest man in town of a cent out of the bottom of +his breeches pocket and not disturb his reverie.</p> +<p>At this stage—or at about this stage—a saying like this +was dropped at bedtime—with a sigh, usually—by the head +of each of the nineteen principal households:</p> +<p>“Ah, what <i>could</i> have been the remark that Goodson made?”</p> +<p>And straightway—with a shudder—came this, from the man’s +wife:</p> +<p>“Oh, <i>don’t</i>! What horrible thing are you +mulling in your mind? Put it away from you, for God’s sake!”</p> +<p>But that question was wrung from those men again the next night—and +got the same retort. But weaker.</p> +<p>And the third night the men uttered the question yet again—with +anguish, and absently. This time—and the following night—the +wives fidgeted feebly, and tried to say something. But didn’t.</p> +<p>And the night after that they found their tongues and responded—longingly:</p> +<p>“Oh, if we <i>could</i> only guess!”</p> +<p>Halliday’s comments grew daily more and more sparklingly disagreeable +and disparaging. He went diligently about, laughing at the town, +individually and in mass. But his laugh was the only one left +in the village: it fell upon a hollow and mournful vacancy and emptiness. +Not even a smile was findable anywhere. Halliday carried a cigar-box +around on a tripod, playing that it was a camera, and halted all passers +and aimed the thing and said “Ready!—now look pleasant, +please,” but not even this capital joke could surprise the dreary +faces into any softening.</p> +<p>So three weeks passed—one week was left. It was Saturday +evening after supper. Instead of the aforetime Saturday-evening +flutter and bustle and shopping and larking, the streets were empty +and desolate. Richards and his old wife sat apart in their little +parlour—miserable and thinking. This was become their evening +habit now: the life-long habit which had preceded it, of reading, knitting, +and contented chat, or receiving or paying neighbourly calls, was dead +and gone and forgotten, ages ago—two or three weeks ago; nobody +talked now, nobody read, nobody visited—the whole village sat +at home, sighing, worrying, silent. Trying to guess out that remark.</p> +<p>The postman left a letter. Richards glanced listlessly at the +superscription and the post-mark—unfamiliar, both—and tossed +the letter on the table and resumed his might-have-beens and his hopeless +dull miseries where he had left them off. Two or three hours later +his wife got wearily up and was going away to bed without a good-night—custom +now—but she stopped near the letter and eyed it awhile with a +dead interest, then broke it open, and began to skim it over. +Richards, sitting there with his chair tilted back against the wall +and his chin between his knees, heard something fall. It was his +wife. He sprang to her side, but she cried out:</p> +<p>“Leave me alone, I am too happy. Read the letter—read +it!”</p> +<p>He did. He devoured it, his brain reeling. The letter +was from a distant State, and it said:</p> +<blockquote><p>“I am a stranger to you, but no matter: I have +something to tell. I have just arrived home from Mexico, and learned +about that episode. Of course you do not know who made that remark, +but I know, and I am the only person living who does know. It +was GOODSON. I knew him well, many years ago. I passed through +your village that very night, and was his guest till the midnight train +came along. I overheard him make that remark to the stranger in +the dark—it was in Hale Alley. He and I talked of it the +rest of the way home, and while smoking in his house. He mentioned +many of your villagers in the course of his talk—most of them +in a very uncomplimentary way, but two or three favourably: among these +latter yourself. I say ‘favourably’—nothing +stronger. I remember his saying he did not actually LIKE any person +in the town—not one; but that you—I THINK he said you—am +almost sure—had done him a very great service once, possibly without +knowing the full value of it, and he wished he had a fortune, he would +leave it to you when he died, and a curse apiece for the rest of the +citizens. Now, then, if it was you that did him that service, +you are his legitimate heir, and entitled to the sack of gold. +I know that I can trust to your honour and honesty, for in a citizen +of Hadleyburg these virtues are an unfailing inheritance, and so I am +going to reveal to you the remark, well satisfied that if you are not +the right man you will seek and find the right one and see that poor +Goodson’s debt of gratitude for the service referred to is paid. +This is the remark ‘YOU ARE FAR FROM BEING A BAD MAN: GO, AND +REFORM.’</p> +<p>“HOWARD L. STEPHENSON.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Oh, Edward, the money is ours, and I am so grateful, <i>oh</i>, +so grateful,—kiss me, dear, it’s for ever since we kissed—and +we needed it so—the money—and now you are free of Pinkerton +and his bank, and nobody’s slave any more; it seems to me I could +fly for joy.”</p> +<p>It was a happy half-hour that the couple spent there on the settee +caressing each other; it was the old days come again—days that +had begun with their courtship and lasted without a break till the stranger +brought the deadly money. By-and-by the wife said:</p> +<p>“Oh, Edward, how lucky it was you did him that grand service, +poor Goodson! I never liked him, but I love him now. And +it was fine and beautiful of you never to mention it or brag about it.” +Then, with a touch of reproach, “But you ought to have told <i>me</i>, +Edward, you ought to have told your wife, you know.”</p> +<p>“Well, I—er—well, Mary, you see—”</p> +<p>“Now stop hemming and hawing, and tell me about it, Edward. +I always loved you, and now I’m proud of you. Everybody +believes there was only one good generous soul in this village, and +now it turns out that you—Edward, why don’t you tell me?”</p> +<p>“Well—er—er—Why, Mary, I can’t!”</p> +<p>“You <i>can’t</i>? <i>Why</i> can’t you?”</p> +<p>“You see, he—well, he—he made me promise I wouldn’t.”</p> +<p>The wife looked him over, and said, very slowly:</p> +<p>“Made—you—promise? Edward, what do you tell +me that for?”</p> +<p>“Mary, do you think I would lie?”</p> +<p>She was troubled and silent for a moment, then she laid her hand +within his and said:</p> +<p>“No ... no. We have wandered far enough from our bearings—God +spare us that! In all your life you have never uttered a lie. +But now—now that the foundations of things seem to be crumbling +from under us, we—we—” She lost her voice for +a moment, then said, brokenly, “Lead us not into temptation. . +. I think you made the promise, Edward. Let it rest so. +Let us keep away from that ground. Now—that is all gone +by; let us he happy again; it is no time for clouds.”</p> +<p>Edward found it something of an effort to comply, for his mind kept +wandering—trying to remember what the service was that he had +done Goodson.</p> +<p>The couple lay awake the most of the night, Mary happy and busy, +Edward busy, but not so happy. Mary was planning what she would +do with the money. Edward was trying to recall that service. +At first his conscience was sore on account of the lie he had told Mary—if +it was a lie. After much reflection—suppose it <i>was</i> +a lie? What then? Was it such a great matter? Aren’t +we always <i>acting</i> lies? Then why not tell them? Look +at Mary—look what she had done. While he was hurrying off +on his honest errand, what was she doing? Lamenting because the +papers hadn’t been destroyed and the money kept. Is theft +better than lying?</p> +<p><i>That</i> point lost its sting—the lie dropped into the background +and left comfort behind it. The next point came to the front: +<i>had</i> he rendered that service? Well, here was Goodson’s +own evidence as reported in Stephenson’s letter; there could be +no better evidence than that—it was even <i>proof</i> that he +had rendered it. Of course. So that point was settled. . +. No, not quite. He recalled with a wince that this unknown Mr. +Stephenson was just a trifle unsure as to whether the performer of it +was Richards or some other—and, oh dear, he had put Richards on +his honour! He must himself decide whither that money must go—and +Mr. Stephenson was not doubting that if he was the wrong man he would +go honourably and find the right one. Oh, it was odious to put +a man in such a situation—ah, why couldn’t Stephenson have +left out that doubt? What did he want to intrude that for?</p> +<p>Further reflection. How did it happen that <i>Richards’s</i> +name remained in Stephenson’s mind as indicating the right man, +and not some other man’s name? That looked good. Yes, +that looked very good. In fact it went on looking better and better, +straight along—until by-and-by it grew into positive <i>proof</i>. +And then Richards put the matter at once out of his mind, for he had +a private instinct that a proof once established is better left so.</p> +<p>He was feeling reasonably comfortable now, but there was still one +other detail that kept pushing itself on his notice: of course he had +done that service—that was settled; but what <i>was</i> that service? +He must recall it—he would not go to sleep till he had recalled +it; it would make his peace of mind perfect. And so he thought +and thought. He thought of a dozen things—possible services, +even probable services—but none of them seemed adequate, none +of them seemed large enough, none of them seemed worth the money—worth +the fortune Goodson had wished he could leave in his will. And +besides, he couldn’t remember having done them, anyway. +Now, then—now, then—what <i>kind</i> of a service would +it be that would make a man so inordinately grateful? Ah—the +saving of his soul! That must be it. Yes, he could remember, +now, how he once set himself the task of converting Goodson, and laboured +at it as much as—he was going to say three months; but upon closer +examination it shrunk to a month, then to a week, then to a day, then +to nothing. Yes, he remembered now, and with unwelcome vividness, +that Goodson had told him to go to thunder and mind his own business—<i>he</i> +wasn’t hankering to follow Hadleyburg to heaven!</p> +<p>So that solution was a failure—he hadn’t saved Goodson’s +soul. Richards was discouraged. Then after a little came +another idea: had he saved Goodson’s property? No, that +wouldn’t do—he hadn’t any. His life? That +is it! Of course. Why, he might have thought of it before. +This time he was on the right track, sure. His imagination-mill +was hard at work in a minute, now.</p> +<p>Thereafter, during a stretch of two exhausting hours, he was busy +saving Goodson’s life. He saved it in all kinds of difficult +and perilous ways. In every case he got it saved satisfactorily +up to a certain point; then, just as he was beginning to get well persuaded +that it had really happened, a troublesome detail would turn up which +made the whole thing impossible. As in the matter of drowning, +for instance. In that case he had swum out and tugged Goodson +ashore in an unconscious state with a great crowd looking on and applauding, +but when he had got it all thought out and was just beginning to remember +all about it, a whole swarm of disqualifying details arrived on the +ground: the town would have known of the circumstance, Mary would have +known of it, it would glare like a limelight in his own memory instead +of being an inconspicuous service which he had possibly rendered “without +knowing its full value.” And at this point he remembered +that he couldn’t swim anyway.</p> +<p>Ah—<i>there</i> was a point which he had been overlooking from +the start: it had to be a service which he had rendered “possibly +without knowing the full value of it.” Why, really, that +ought to be an easy hunt—much easier than those others. +And sure enough, by-and-by he found it. Goodson, years and years +ago, came near marrying a very sweet and pretty girl, named Nancy Hewitt, +but in some way or other the match had been broken off; the girl died, +Goodson remained a bachelor, and by-and-by became a soured one and a +frank despiser of the human species. Soon after the girl’s +death the village found out, or thought it had found out, that she carried +a spoonful of negro blood in her veins. Richards worked at these +details a good while, and in the end he thought he remembered things +concerning them which must have gotten mislaid in his memory through +long neglect. He seemed to dimly remember that it was <i>he</i> +that found out about the negro blood; that it was he that told the village; +that the village told Goodson where they got it; that he thus saved +Goodson from marrying the tainted girl; that he had done him this great +service “without knowing the full value of it,” in fact +without knowing that he <i>was</i> doing it; but that Goodson knew the +value of it, and what a narrow escape he had had, and so went to his +grave grateful to his benefactor and wishing he had a fortune to leave +him. It was all clear and simple, now, and the more he went over +it the more luminous and certain it grew; and at last, when he nestled +to sleep, satisfied and happy, he remembered the whole thing just as +if it had been yesterday. In fact, he dimly remembered Goodson’s +<i>telling</i> him his gratitude once. Meantime Mary had spent +six thousand dollars on a new house for herself and a pair of slippers +for her pastor, and then had fallen peacefully to rest.</p> +<p>That same Saturday evening the postman had delivered a letter to +each of the other principal citizens—nineteen letters in all. +No two of the envelopes were alike, and no two of the superscriptions +were in the same hand, but the letters inside were just like each other +in every detail but one. They were exact copies of the letter +received by Richards—handwriting and all—and were all signed +by Stephenson, but in place of Richards’s name each receiver’s +own name appeared.</p> +<p>All night long eighteen principal citizens did what their caste-brother +Richards was doing at the same time—they put in their energies +trying to remember what notable service it was that they had unconsciously +done Barclay Goodson. In no case was it a holiday job; still they +succeeded.</p> +<p>And while they were at this work, which was difficult, their wives +put in the night spending the money, which was easy. During that +one night the nineteen wives spent an average of seven thousand dollars +each out of the forty thousand in the sack—a hundred and thirty-three +thousand altogether.</p> +<p>Next day there was a surprise for Jack Halliday. He noticed +that the faces of the nineteen chief citizens and their wives bore that +expression of peaceful and holy happiness again. He could not +understand it, neither was he able to invent any remarks about it that +could damage it or disturb it. And so it was his turn to be dissatisfied +with life. His private guesses at the reasons for the happiness +failed in all instances, upon examination. When he met Mrs. Wilcox +and noticed the placid ecstasy in her face, he said to himself, “Her +cat has had kittens”—and went and asked the cook; it was +not so, the cook had detected the happiness, but did not know the cause. +When Halliday found the duplicate ecstasy in the face of “Shadbelly” +Billson (village nickname), he was sure some neighbour of Billson’s +had broken his leg, but inquiry showed that this had not happened. +The subdued ecstasy in Gregory Yates’s face could mean but one +thing—he was a mother-in-law short; it was another mistake. +“And Pinkerton—Pinkerton—he has collected ten cents +that he thought he was going to lose.” And so on, and so +on. In some cases the guesses had to remain in doubt, in the others +they proved distinct errors. In the end Halliday said to himself, +“Anyway it roots up that there’s nineteen Hadleyburg families +temporarily in heaven: I don’t know how it happened; I only know +Providence is off duty to-day.”</p> +<p>An architect and builder from the next State had lately ventured +to set up a small business in this unpromising village, and his sign +had now been hanging out a week. Not a customer yet; he was a +discouraged man, and sorry he had come. But his weather changed +suddenly now. First one and then another chief citizen’s +wife said to him privately:</p> +<p>“Come to my house Monday week—but say nothing about it +for the present. We think of building.”</p> +<p>He got eleven invitations that day. That night he wrote his +daughter and broke off her match with her student. He said she +could marry a mile higher than that.</p> +<p>Pinkerton the banker and two or three other well-to-do men planned +country-seats—but waited. That kind don’t count their +chickens until they are hatched.</p> +<p>The Wilsons devised a grand new thing—a fancy-dress ball. +They made no actual promises, but told all their acquaintanceship in +confidence that they were thinking the matter over and thought they +should give it—“and if we do, you will be invited, of course.” +People were surprised, and said, one to another, “Why, they are +crazy, those poor Wilsons, they can’t afford it.” +Several among the nineteen said privately to their husbands, “It +is a good idea, we will keep still till their cheap thing is over, then +<i>we</i> will give one that will make it sick.”</p> +<p>The days drifted along, and the bill of future squanderings rose +higher and higher, wilder and wilder, more and more foolish and reckless. +It began to look as if every member of the nineteen would not only spend +his whole forty thousand dollars before receiving-day, but be actually +in debt by the time he got the money. In some cases light-headed +people did not stop with planning to spend, they really spent—on +credit. They bought land, mortgages, farms, speculative stocks, +fine clothes, horses, and various other things, paid down the bonus, +and made themselves liable for the rest—at ten days. Presently +the sober second thought came, and Halliday noticed that a ghastly anxiety +was beginning to show up in a good many faces. Again he was puzzled, +and didn’t know what to make of it. “The Wilcox kittens +aren’t dead, for they weren’t born; nobody’s broken +a leg; there’s no shrinkage in mother-in-laws; <i>nothing</i> +has happened—it is an insolvable mystery.”</p> +<p>There was another puzzled man, too—the Rev. Mr. Burgess. +For days, wherever he went, people seemed to follow him or to be watching +out for him; and if he ever found himself in a retired spot, a member +of the nineteen would be sure to appear, thrust an envelope privately +into his hand, whisper “To be opened at the town-hall Friday evening,” +then vanish away like a guilty thing. He was expecting that there +might be one claimant for the sack—doubtful, however, Goodson +being dead—but it never occurred to him that all this crowd might +be claimants. When the great Friday came at last, he found that +he had nineteen envelopes.</p> +<h2>III.</h2> +<p>The town-hall had never looked finer. The platform at the end +of it was backed by a showy draping of flags; at intervals along the +walls were festoons of flags; the gallery fronts were clothed in flags; +the supporting columns were swathed in flags; all this was to impress +the stranger, for he would be there in considerable force, and in a +large degree he would be connected with the press. The house was +full. The 412 fixed seats were occupied; also the 68 extra chairs +which had been packed into the aisles; the steps of the platform were +occupied; some distinguished strangers were given seats on the platform; +at the horseshoe of tables which fenced the front and sides of the platform +sat a strong force of special correspondents who had come from everywhere. +It was the best-dressed house the town had ever produced. There +were some tolerably expensive toilets there, and in several cases the +ladies who wore them had the look of being unfamiliar with that kind +of clothes. At least the town thought they had that look, but +the notion could have arisen from the town’s knowledge of the +fact that these ladies had never inhabited such clothes before.</p> +<p>The gold-sack stood on a little table at the front of the platform +where all the house could see it. The bulk of the house gazed +at it with a burning interest, a mouth-watering interest, a wistful +and pathetic interest; a minority of nineteen couples gazed at it tenderly, +lovingly, proprietarily, and the male half of this minority kept saying +over to themselves the moving little impromptu speeches of thankfulness +for the audience’s applause and congratulations which they were +presently going to get up and deliver. Every now and then one +of these got a piece of paper out of his vest pocket and privately glanced +at it to refresh his memory.</p> +<p>Of course there was a buzz of conversation going on—there always +is; but at last, when the Rev. Mr. Burgess rose and laid his hand on +the sack, he could hear his microbes gnaw, the place was so still. +He related the curious history of the sack, then went on to speak in +warm terms of Hadleyburg’s old and well-earned reputation for +spotless honesty, and of the town’s just pride in this reputation. +He said that this reputation was a treasure of priceless value; that +under Providence its value had now become inestimably enhanced, for +the recent episode had spread this fame far and wide, and thus had focussed +the eyes of the American world upon this village, and made its name +for all time, as he hoped and believed, a synonym for commercial incorruptibility. +[Applause.] “And who is to be the guardian of this noble +fame—the community as a whole? No! The responsibility +is individual, not communal. From this day forth each and every +one of you is in his own person its special guardian, and individually +responsible that no harm shall come to it. Do you—does each +of you—accept this great trust? [Tumultuous assent.] +Then all is well. Transmit it to your children and to your children’s +children. To-day your purity is beyond reproach—see to it +that it shall remain so. To-day there is not a person in your +community who could be beguiled to touch a penny not his own—see +to it that you abide in this grace. [“We will! we will!”] +This is not the place to make comparisons between ourselves and other +communities—some of them ungracious towards us; they have their +ways, we have ours; let us be content. [Applause.] I am +done. Under my hand, my friends, rests a stranger’s eloquent +recognition of what we are; through him the world will always henceforth +know what we are. We do not know who he is, but in your name I +utter your gratitude, and ask you to raise your voices in indorsement.”</p> +<p>The house rose in a body and made the walls quake with the thunders +of its thankfulness for the space of a long minute. Then it sat +down, and Mr. Burgess took an envelope out of his pocket. The +house held its breath while he slit the envelope open and took from +it a slip of paper. He read its contents—slowly and impressively—the +audience listening with tranced attention to this magic document, each +of whose words stood for an ingot of gold:</p> +<p>“‘The remark which I made to the distressed stranger +was this: “You are very far from being a bad man; go, and reform.”’” +Then he continued:—“We shall know in a moment now whether +the remark here quoted corresponds with the one concealed in the sack; +and if that shall prove to be so—and it undoubtedly will—this +sack of gold belongs to a fellow-citizen who will henceforth stand before +the nation as the symbol of the special virtue which has made our town +famous throughout the land—Mr. Billson!”</p> +<p>The house had gotten itself all ready to burst into the proper tornado +of applause; but instead of doing it, it seemed stricken with a paralysis; +there was a deep hush for a moment or two, then a wave of whispered +murmurs swept the place—of about this tenor: “<i>Billson</i>! +oh, come, this is <i>too</i> thin! Twenty dollars to a stranger—or +<i>anybody</i>—<i>Billson</i>! Tell it to the marines!” +And now at this point the house caught its breath all of a sudden in +a new access of astonishment, for it discovered that whereas in one +part of the hall Deacon Billson was standing up with his head meekly +bowed, in another part of it Lawyer Wilson was doing the same. +There was a wondering silence now for a while. Everybody was puzzled, +and nineteen couples were surprised and indignant.</p> +<p>Billson and Wilson turned and stared at each other. Billson +asked, bitingly:</p> +<p>“Why do <i>you</i> rise, Mr. Wilson?”</p> +<p>“Because I have a right to. Perhaps you will be good +enough to explain to the house why <i>you</i> rise.”</p> +<p>“With great pleasure. Because I wrote that paper.”</p> +<p>“It is an impudent falsity! I wrote it myself.”</p> +<p>It was Burgess’s turn to be paralysed. He stood looking +vacantly at first one of the men and then the other, and did not seem +to know what to do. The house was stupefied. Lawyer Wilson +spoke up now, and said:</p> +<p>“I ask the Chair to read the name signed to that paper.”</p> +<p>That brought the Chair to itself, and it read out the name:</p> +<p>“John Wharton <i>Billson</i>.”</p> +<p>“There!” shouted Billson, “what have you got to +say for yourself now? And what kind of apology are you going to +make to me and to this insulted house for the imposture which you have +attempted to play here?”</p> +<p>“No apologies are due, sir; and as for the rest of it, I publicly +charge you with pilfering my note from Mr. Burgess and substituting +a copy of it signed with your own name. There is no other way +by which you could have gotten hold of the test-remark; I alone, of +living men, possessed the secret of its wording.”</p> +<p>There was likely to be a scandalous state of things if this went +on; everybody noticed with distress that the shorthand scribes were +scribbling like mad; many people were crying “Chair, chair! +Order! order!” Burgess rapped with his gavel, and said:</p> +<p>“Let us not forget the proprieties due. There has evidently +been a mistake somewhere, but surely that is all. If Mr. Wilson +gave me an envelope—and I remember now that he did—I still +have it.”</p> +<p>He took one out of his pocket, opened it, glanced at it, looked surprised +and worried, and stood silent a few moments. Then he waved his +hand in a wandering and mechanical way, and made an effort or two to +say something, then gave it up, despondently. Several voices cried +out:</p> +<p>“Read it! read it! What is it?”</p> +<p>So he began, in a dazed and sleep-walker fashion:</p> +<p>“‘The remark which I made to the unhappy stranger was +this: “You are far from being a bad man. [The house gazed +at him marvelling.] Go, and reform.”’ [Murmurs: +“Amazing! what can this mean?”] This one,” said +the Chair, “is signed Thurlow G. Wilson.”</p> +<p>“There!” cried Wilson, “I reckon that settles it! +I knew perfectly well my note was purloined.”</p> +<p>“Purloined!” retorted Billson. “I’ll +let you know that neither you nor any man of your kidney must venture +to—”</p> +<p>The Chair: “Order, gentlemen, order! Take your seats, +both of you, please.”</p> +<p>They obeyed, shaking their heads and grumbling angrily. The +house was profoundly puzzled; it did not know what to do with this curious +emergency. Presently Thompson got up. Thompson was the hatter. +He would have liked to be a Nineteener; but such was not for him; his +stock of hats was not considerable enough for the position. He +said:</p> +<p>“Mr. Chairman, if I may be permitted to make a suggestion, +can both of these gentlemen be right? I put it to you, sir, can +both have happened to say the very same words to the stranger? +It seems to me—”</p> +<p>The tanner got up and interrupted him. The tanner was a disgruntled +man; he believed himself entitled to be a Nineteener, but he couldn’t +get recognition. It made him a little unpleasant in his ways and +speech. Said he:</p> +<p>“Sho, <i>that’s</i> not the point! <i>That</i> +could happen—twice in a hundred years—but not the other +thing. <i>Neither</i> of them gave the twenty dollars!” +[A ripple of applause.]</p> +<p>Billson. “I did!”</p> +<p>Wilson. “I did!”</p> +<p>Then each accused the other of pilfering.</p> +<p>The Chair. “Order! Sit down, if you please—both +of you. Neither of the notes has been out of my possession at +any moment.”</p> +<p>A Voice. “Good—that settles <i>that</i>!”</p> +<p>The Tanner. “Mr. Chairman, one thing is now plain: one +of these men has been eavesdropping under the other one’s bed, +and filching family secrets. If it is not unparliamentary to suggest +it, I will remark that both are equal to it. [The Chair. +“Order! order!”] I withdraw the remark, sir, and will +confine myself to suggesting that <i>if</i> one of them has overheard +the other reveal the test-remark to his wife, we shall catch him now.”</p> +<p>A Voice. “How?”</p> +<p>The Tanner. “Easily. The two have not quoted the +remark in exactly the same words. You would have noticed that, +if there hadn’t been a considerable stretch of time and an exciting +quarrel inserted between the two readings.”</p> +<p>A Voice. “Name the difference.”</p> +<p>The Tanner. “The word <i>very</i> is in Billson’s +note, and not in the other.”</p> +<p>Many Voices. “That’s so—he’s right!”</p> +<p>The Tanner. “And so, if the Chair will examine the test-remark +in the sack, we shall know which of these two frauds—[The Chair. +“Order!”]—which of these two adventurers—[The +Chair. “Order! order!”]—which of these two gentlemen—[laughter +and applause]—is entitled to wear the belt as being the first +dishonest blatherskite ever bred in this town—which he has dishonoured, +and which will be a sultry place for him from now out!” +[Vigorous applause.]</p> +<p>Many Voices. “Open it!—open the sack!”</p> +<p>Mr. Burgess made a slit in the sack, slid his hand in, and brought +out an envelope. In it were a couple of folded notes. He +said:</p> +<p>“One of these is marked, ‘Not to be examined until all +written communications which have been addressed to the Chair—if +any—shall have been read.’ The other is marked ‘<i>The +Test</i>.’ Allow me. It is worded—to wit:</p> +<p>“‘I do not require that the first half of the remark +which was made to me by my benefactor shall be quoted with exactness, +for it was not striking, and could be forgotten; but its closing fifteen +words are quite striking, and I think easily rememberable; unless <i>these</i> +shall be accurately reproduced, let the applicant be regarded as an +impostor. My benefactor began by saying he seldom gave advice +to anyone, but that it always bore the hall-mark of high value when +he did give it. Then he said this—and it has never faded +from my memory: ‘<i>You are far from being a bad man</i>—’’”</p> +<p>Fifty Voices. “That settles it—the money’s +Wilson’s! Wilson! Wilson! Speech! Speech!”</p> +<p>People jumped up and crowded around Wilson, wringing his hand and +congratulating fervently—meantime the Chair was hammering with +the gavel and shouting:</p> +<p>“Order, gentlemen! Order! Order! Let me finish +reading, please.” When quiet was restored, the reading was +resumed—as follows:</p> +<p>“‘<i>Go, and reform—or, mark my words—some +day, for your sins you will die and go to hell or Hadleyburg</i>—TRY +AND MAKE IT THE FORMER.’”</p> +<p>A ghastly silence followed. First an angry cloud began to settle +darkly upon the faces of the citizenship; after a pause the cloud began +to rise, and a tickled expression tried to take its place; tried so +hard that it was only kept under with great and painful difficulty; +the reporters, the Brixtonites, and other strangers bent their heads +down and shielded their faces with their hands, and managed to hold +in by main strength and heroic courtesy. At this most inopportune +time burst upon the stillness the roar of a solitary voice—Jack +Halliday’s:</p> +<p>“<i>That’s</i> got the hall-mark on it!”</p> +<p>Then the house let go, strangers and all. Even Mr. Burgess’s +gravity broke down presently, then the audience considered itself officially +absolved from all restraint, and it made the most of its privilege. +It was a good long laugh, and a tempestuously wholehearted one, but +it ceased at last—long enough for Mr. Burgess to try to resume, +and for the people to get their eyes partially wiped; then it broke +out again, and afterward yet again; then at last Burgess was able to +get out these serious words:</p> +<p>“It is useless to try to disguise the fact—we find ourselves +in the presence of a matter of grave import. It involves the honour +of your town—it strikes at the town’s good name. The +difference of a single word between the test-remarks offered by Mr. +Wilson and Mr. Billson was itself a serious thing, since it indicated +that one or the other of these gentlemen had committed a theft—”</p> +<p>The two men were sitting limp, nerveless, crushed; but at these words +both were electrified into movement, and started to get up.</p> +<p>“Sit down!” said the Chair, sharply, and they obeyed. +“That, as I have said, was a serious thing. And it was—but +for only one of them. But the matter has become graver; for the +honour of <i>both</i> is now in formidable peril. Shall I go even +further, and say in inextricable peril? <i>Both</i> left out the +crucial fifteen words.” He paused. During several +moments he allowed the pervading stillness to gather and deepen its +impressive effects, then added: “There would seem to be but one +way whereby this could happen. I ask these gentlemen—Was +there <i>collusion</i>?—<i>agreement</i>?”</p> +<p>A low murmur sifted through the house; its import was, “He’s +got them both.”</p> +<p>Billson was not used to emergencies; he sat in a helpless collapse. +But Wilson was a lawyer. He struggled to his feet, pale and worried, +and said:</p> +<p>“I ask the indulgence of the house while I explain this most +painful matter. I am sorry to say what I am about to say, since +it must inflict irreparable injury upon Mr. Billson, whom I have always +esteemed and respected until now, and in whose invulnerability to temptation +I entirely believed—as did you all. But for the preservation +of my own honour I must speak—and with frankness. I confess +with shame—and I now beseech your pardon for it—that I said +to the ruined stranger all of the words contained in the test-remark, +including the disparaging fifteen. [Sensation.] When the +late publication was made I recalled them, and I resolved to claim the +sack of coin, for by every right I was entitled to it. Now I will +ask you to consider this point, and weigh it well; that stranger’s +gratitude to me that night knew no bounds; he said himself that he could +find no words for it that were adequate, and that if he should ever +be able he would repay me a thousandfold. Now, then, I ask you +this; could I expect—could I believe—could I even remotely +imagine—that, feeling as he did, he would do so ungrateful a thing +as to add those quite unnecessary fifteen words to his test?—set +a trap for me?—expose me as a slanderer of my own town before +my own people assembled in a public hall? It was preposterous; +it was impossible. His test would contain only the kindly opening +clause of my remark. Of that I had no shadow of doubt. You +would have thought as I did. You would not have expected a base +betrayal from one whom you had befriended and against whom you had committed +no offence. And so with perfect confidence, perfect trust, I wrote +on a piece of paper the opening words—ending with “Go, and +reform,”—and signed it. When I was about to put it +in an envelope I was called into my back office, and without thinking +I left the paper lying open on my desk.” He stopped, turned +his head slowly toward Billson, waited a moment, then added: “I +ask you to note this; when I returned, a little latter, Mr. Billson +was retiring by my street door.” [Sensation.]</p> +<p>In a moment Billson was on his feet and shouting:</p> +<p>“It’s a lie! It’s an infamous lie!”</p> +<p>The Chair. “Be seated, sir! Mr. Wilson has the +floor.”</p> +<p>Billson’s friends pulled him into his seat and quieted him, +and Wilson went on:</p> +<p>“Those are the simple facts. My note was now lying in +a different place on the table from where I had left it. I noticed +that, but attached no importance to it, thinking a draught had blown +it there. That Mr. Billson would read a private paper was a thing +which could not occur to me; he was an honourable man, and he would +be above that. If you will allow me to say it, I think his extra +word ‘<i>very</i>’ stands explained: it is attributable +to a defect of memory. I was the only man in the world who could +furnish here any detail of the test-mark—by <i>honourable</i> +means. I have finished.”</p> +<p>There is nothing in the world like a persuasive speech to fuddle +the mental apparatus and upset the convictions and debauch the emotions +of an audience not practised in the tricks and delusions of oratory. +Wilson sat down victorious. The house submerged him in tides of +approving applause; friends swarmed to him and shook him by the hand +and congratulated him, and Billson was shouted down and not allowed +to say a word. The Chair hammered and hammered with its gavel, +and kept shouting:</p> +<p>“But let us proceed, gentlemen, let us proceed!”</p> +<p>At last there was a measurable degree of quiet, and the hatter said:</p> +<p>“But what is there to proceed with, sir, but to deliver the +money?”</p> +<p>Voices. “That’s it! That’s it! +Come forward, Wilson!”</p> +<p>The Hatter. “I move three cheers for Mr. Wilson, Symbol +of the special virtue which—”</p> +<p>The cheers burst forth before he could finish; and in the midst of +them—and in the midst of the clamour of the gavel also—some +enthusiasts mounted Wilson on a big friend’s shoulder and were +going to fetch him in triumph to the platform. The Chair’s +voice now rose above the noise:</p> +<p>“Order! To your places! You forget that there is +still a document to be read.” When quiet had been restored +he took up the document, and was going to read it, but laid it down +again saying “I forgot; this is not to be read until all written +communications received by me have first been read.” He +took an envelope out of his pocket, removed its enclosure, glanced at +it—seemed astonished—held it out and gazed at it—stared +at it.</p> +<p>Twenty or thirty voices cried out</p> +<p>“What is it? Read it! read it!”</p> +<p>And he did—slowly, and wondering:</p> +<p>“‘The remark which I made to the stranger—[Voices. +“Hello! how’s this?”]—was this: ‘You are +far from being a bad man. [Voices. “Great Scott!”] +Go, and reform.’” [Voice. “Oh, saw my +leg off!”] Signed by Mr. Pinkerton the banker.”</p> +<p>The pandemonium of delight which turned itself loose now was of a +sort to make the judicious weep. Those whose withers were unwrung +laughed till the tears ran down; the reporters, in throes of laughter, +set down disordered pot-hooks which would never in the world be decipherable; +and a sleeping dog jumped up scared out of its wits, and barked itself +crazy at the turmoil. All manner of cries were scattered through +the din: “We’re getting rich—<i>two</i> Symbols of +Incorruptibility!—without counting Billson!” “<i>Three</i>!—count +Shadbelly in—we can’t have too many!” “All +right—Billson’s elected!” “Alas, poor +Wilson! victim of <i>two</i> thieves!”</p> +<p>A Powerful Voice. “Silence! The Chair’s fished +up something more out of its pocket.”</p> +<p>Voices. “Hurrah! Is it something fresh? Read +it! read! read!”</p> +<p>The Chair [reading]. “‘The remark which I made,’ +etc. ‘You are far from being a bad man. Go,’ +etc. Signed, ‘Gregory Yates.’”</p> +<p>Tornado of Voices. “Four Symbols!” “’Rah +for Yates!” “Fish again!”</p> +<p>The house was in a roaring humour now, and ready to get all the fun +out of the occasion that might be in it. Several Nineteeners, +looking pale and distressed, got up and began to work their way towards +the aisles, but a score of shouts went up:</p> +<p>“The doors, the doors—close the doors; no Incorruptible +shall leave this place! Sit down, everybody!” The +mandate was obeyed.</p> +<p>“Fish again! Read! read!”</p> +<p>The Chair fished again, and once more the familiar words began to +fall from its lips—“‘You are far from being a bad +man—’”</p> +<p>“Name! name! What’s his name?”</p> +<p>“‘L. Ingoldsby Sargent.’”</p> +<p>“Five elected! Pile up the Symbols! Go on, go on!”</p> +<p>“‘You are far from being a bad—’”</p> +<p>“Name! name!”</p> +<p>“‘Nicholas Whitworth.’”</p> +<p>“Hooray! hooray! it’s a symbolical day!”</p> +<p>Somebody wailed in, and began to sing this rhyme (leaving out “it’s”) +to the lovely “Mikado” tune of “When a man’s +afraid of a beautiful maid;” the audience joined in, with joy; +then, just in time, somebody contributed another line—</p> +<blockquote><p>“And don’t you this forget—”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The house roared it out. A third line was at once furnished—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Corruptibles far from Hadleyburg are—”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The house roared that one too. As the last note died, Jack +Halliday’s voice rose high and clear, freighted with a final line—</p> +<blockquote><p>“But the Symbols are here, you bet!”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>That was sung, with booming enthusiasm. Then the happy house +started in at the beginning and sang the four lines through twice, with +immense swing and dash, and finished up with a crashing three-times-three +and a tiger for “Hadleyburg the Incorruptible and all Symbols +of it which we shall find worthy to receive the hall-mark to-night.”</p> +<p>Then the shoutings at the Chair began again, all over the place:</p> +<p>“Go on! go on! Read! read some more! Read all you’ve +got!”</p> +<p>“That’s it—go on! We are winning eternal +celebrity!”</p> +<p>A dozen men got up now and began to protest. They said that +this farce was the work of some abandoned joker, and was an insult to +the whole community. Without a doubt these signatures were all +forgeries—</p> +<p>“Sit down! sit down! Shut up! You are confessing. +We’ll find your names in the lot.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Chairman, how many of those envelopes have you got?”</p> +<p>The Chair counted.</p> +<p>“Together with those that have been already examined, there +are nineteen.”</p> +<p>A storm of derisive applause broke out.</p> +<p>“Perhaps they all contain the secret. I move that you +open them all and read every signature that is attached to a note of +that sort—and read also the first eight words of the note.”</p> +<p>“Second the motion!”</p> +<p>It was put and carried—uproariously. Then poor old Richards +got up, and his wife rose and stood at his side. Her head was +bent down, so that none might see that she was crying. Her husband +gave her his arm, and so supporting her, he began to speak in a quavering +voice:</p> +<p>“My friends, you have known us two—Mary and me—all +our lives, and I think you have liked us and respected us—”</p> +<p>The Chair interrupted him:</p> +<p>“Allow me. It is quite true—that which you are +saying, Mr. Richards; this town <i>does</i> know you two; it <i>does</i> +like you; it <i>does</i> respect you; more—it honours you and +<i>loves</i> you—”</p> +<p>Halliday’s voice rang out:</p> +<p>“That’s the hall-marked truth, too! If the Chair +is right, let the house speak up and say it. Rise! Now, +then—hip! hip! hip!—all together!”</p> +<p>The house rose in mass, faced toward the old couple eagerly, filled +the air with a snow-storm of waving handkerchiefs, and delivered the +cheers with all its affectionate heart.</p> +<p>The Chair then continued:</p> +<p>“What I was going to say is this: We know your good heart, +Mr. Richards, but this is not a time for the exercise of charity toward +offenders. [Shouts of “Right! right!”] I see +your generous purpose in your face, but I cannot allow you to plead +for these men—”</p> +<p>“But I was going to—”</p> +<p>“Please take your seat, Mr. Richards. We must examine +the rest of these notes—simple fairness to the men who have already +been exposed requires this. As soon as that has been done—I +give you my word for this—you shall he heard.”</p> +<p>Many voices. “Right!—the Chair is right—no +interruption can be permitted at this stage! Go on!—the +names! the names!—according to the terms of the motion!”</p> +<p>The old couple sat reluctantly down, and the husband whispered to +the wife, “It is pitifully hard to have to wait; the shame will +be greater than ever when they find we were only going to plead for +<i>ourselves</i>.”</p> +<p>Straightway the jollity broke loose again with the reading of the +names.</p> +<p>“‘You are far from being a bad man—’ Signature, +‘Robert J. Titmarsh.’”</p> +<p>“‘You are far from being a bad man—’ Signature, +‘Eliphalet Weeks.’”</p> +<p>“‘You are far from being a bad man—’ Signature, +‘Oscar B. Wilder.’”</p> +<p>At this point the house lit upon the idea of taking the eight words +out of the Chairman’s hands. He was not unthankful for that. +Thenceforward he held up each note in its turn and waited. The +house droned out the eight words in a massed and measured and musical +deep volume of sound (with a daringly close resemblance to a well-known +church chant)—“You are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-a-d man.” +Then the Chair said, “Signature, ‘Archibald Wilcox.’” +And so on, and so on, name after name, and everybody had an increasingly +and gloriously good time except the wretched Nineteen. Now and +then, when a particularly shining name was called, the house made the +Chair wait while it chanted the whole of the test-remark from the beginning +to the closing words, “And go to hell or Hadleyburg—try +and make it the for-or-m-e-r!” and in these special cases they +added a grand and agonised and imposing “A-a-a-a-<i>men</i>!”</p> +<p>The list dwindled, dwindled, dwindled, poor old Richards keeping +tally of the count, wincing when a name resembling his own was pronounced, +and waiting in miserable suspense for the time to come when it would +be his humiliating privilege to rise with Mary and finish his plea, +which he was intending to word thus: “... for until now we have +never done any wrong thing, but have gone our humble way unreproached. +We are very poor, we are old, and, have no chick nor child to help us; +we were sorely tempted, and we fell. It was my purpose when I +got up before to make confession and beg that my name might not be read +out in this public place, for it seemed to us that we could not bear +it; but I was prevented. It was just; it was our place to suffer +with the rest. It has been hard for us. It is the first +time we have ever heard our name fall from any one’s lips—sullied. +Be merciful—for the sake or the better days; make our shame as +light to bear as in your charity you can.” At this point +in his reverie Mary nudged him, perceiving that his mind was absent. +The house was chanting, “You are f-a-r,” etc.</p> +<p>“Be ready,” Mary whispered. “Your name comes +now; he has read eighteen.”</p> +<p>The chant ended.</p> +<p>“Next! next! next!” came volleying from all over the +house.</p> +<p>Burgess put his hand into his pocket. The old couple, trembling, +began to rise. Burgess fumbled a moment, then said:</p> +<p>“I find I have read them all.”</p> +<p>Faint with joy and surprise, the couple sank into their seats, and +Mary whispered:</p> +<p>“Oh, bless God, we are saved!—he has lost ours—I +wouldn’t give this for a hundred of those sacks!”</p> +<p>The house burst out with its “Mikado” travesty, and sang +it three times with ever-increasing enthusiasm, rising to its feet when +it reached for the third time the closing line—</p> +<blockquote><p>“But the Symbols are here, you bet!”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>and finishing up with cheers and a tiger for “Hadleyburg purity +and our eighteen immortal representatives of it.”</p> +<p>Then Wingate, the saddler, got up and proposed cheers “for +the cleanest man in town, the one solitary important citizen in it who +didn’t try to steal that money—Edward Richards.”</p> +<p>They were given with great and moving heartiness; then somebody proposed +that “Richards be elected sole Guardian and Symbol of the now +Sacred Hadleyburg Tradition, with power and right to stand up and look +the whole sarcastic world in the face.”</p> +<p>Passed, by acclamation; then they sang the “Mikado” again, +and ended it with—</p> +<blockquote><p>“And there’s <i>one</i> Symbol left, you +bet!”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>There was a pause; then—</p> +<p>A Voice. “Now, then, who’s to get the sack?”</p> +<p>The Tanner (with bitter sarcasm). “That’s easy. +The money has to be divided among the eighteen Incorruptibles. +They gave the suffering stranger twenty dollars apiece—and that +remark—each in his turn—it took twenty-two minutes for the +procession to move past. Staked the stranger—total contribution, +$360. All they want is just the loan back—and interest—forty +thousand dollars altogether.”</p> +<p>Many Voices [derisively.] “That’s it! Divvy! +divvy! Be kind to the poor—don’t keep them waiting!”</p> +<p>The Chair. “Order! I now offer the stranger’s +remaining document. It says: ‘If no claimant shall appear +[grand chorus of groans], I desire that you open the sack and count +out the money to the principal citizens of your town, they to take it +in trust [Cries of “Oh! Oh! Oh!”], and use it in such ways +as to them shall seem best for the propagation and preservation of your +community’s noble reputation for incorruptible honesty [more cries]—a +reputation to which their names and their efforts will add a new and +far-reaching lustre.” [Enthusiastic outburst of sarcastic +applause.] That seems to be all. No—here is a postscript:</p> +<p>“‘P.S.—CITIZENS OF HADLEYBURG: There <i>is</i> +no test-remark—nobody made one. [Great sensation.] +There wasn’t any pauper stranger, nor any twenty-dollar contribution, +nor any accompanying benediction and compliment—these are all +inventions. [General buzz and hum of astonishment and delight.] +Allow me to tell my story—it will take but a word or two. +I passed through your town at a certain time, and received a deep offence +which I had not earned. Any other man would have been content +to kill one or two of you and call it square, but to me that would have +been a trivial revenge, and inadequate; for the dead do not <i>suffer</i>. +Besides I could not kill you all—and, anyway, made as I am, even +that would not have satisfied me. I wanted to damage every man +in the place, and every woman—and not in their bodies or in their +estate, but in their vanity—the place where feeble and foolish +people are most vulnerable. So I disguised myself and came back +and studied you. You were easy game. You had an old and +lofty reputation for honesty, and naturally you were proud of it—it +was your treasure of treasures, the very apple of your eye. As +soon as I found out that you carefully and vigilantly kept yourselves +and your children <i>out of temptation</i>, I knew how to proceed. +Why, you simple creatures, the weakest of all weak things is a virtue +which has not been tested in the fire. I laid a plan, and gathered +a list of names. My project was to corrupt Hadleyburg the Incorruptible. +My idea was to make liars and thieves of nearly half a hundred smirchless +men and women who had never in their lives uttered a lie or stolen a +penny. I was afraid of Goodson. He was neither born nor +reared in Hadleyburg. I was afraid that if I started to operate +my scheme by getting my letter laid before you, you would say to yourselves, +‘Goodson is the only man among us who would give away twenty dollars +to a poor devil’—and then you might not bite at my bait. +But heaven took Goodson; then I knew I was safe, and I set my trap and +baited it. It may be that I shall not catch all the men to whom +I mailed the pretended test-secret, but I shall catch the most of them, +if I know Hadleyburg nature. [Voices. “Right—he +got every last one of them.”] I believe they will even steal +ostensible <i>gamble</i>-money, rather than miss, poor, tempted, and +mistrained fellows. I am hoping to eternally and everlastingly +squelch your vanity and give Hadleyburg a new renown—one that +will <i>stick</i>—and spread far. If I have succeeded, open +the sack and summon the Committee on Propagation and Preservation of +the Hadleyburg Reputation.’”</p> +<p>A Cyclone of Voices. “Open it! Open it! The +Eighteen to the front! Committee on Propagation of the Tradition! +Forward—the Incorruptibles!”</p> +<p>The Chair ripped the sack wide, and gathered up a handful of bright, +broad, yellow coins, shook them together, then examined them.</p> +<p>“Friends, they are only gilded disks of lead!”</p> +<p>There was a crashing outbreak of delight over this news, and when +the noise had subsided, the tanner called out:</p> +<p>“By right of apparent seniority in this business, Mr. Wilson +is Chairman of the Committee on Propagation of the Tradition. +I suggest that he step forward on behalf of his pals, and receive in +trust the money.”</p> +<p>A Hundred Voices. “Wilson! Wilson! Wilson! +Speech! Speech!”</p> +<p>Wilson [in a voice trembling with anger]. “You will allow +me to say, and without apologies for my language, <i>damn</i> the money!”</p> +<p>A Voice. “Oh, and him a Baptist!”</p> +<p>A Voice. “Seventeen Symbols left! Step up, gentlemen, +and assume your trust!”</p> +<p>There was a pause—no response.</p> +<p>The Saddler. “Mr. Chairman, we’ve got <i>one</i> +clean man left, anyway, out of the late aristocracy; and he needs money, +and deserves it. I move that you appoint Jack Halliday to get +up there and auction off that sack of gilt twenty-dollar pieces, and +give the result to the right man—the man whom Hadleyburg delights +to honour—Edward Richards.”</p> +<p>This was received with great enthusiasm, the dog taking a hand again; +the saddler started the bids at a dollar, the Brixton folk and Barnum’s +representative fought hard for it, the people cheered every jump that +the bids made, the excitement climbed moment by moment higher and higher, +the bidders got on their mettle and grew steadily more and more daring, +more and more determined, the jumps went from a dollar up to five, then +to ten, then to twenty, then fifty, then to a hundred, then—</p> +<p>At the beginning of the auction Richards whispered in distress to +his wife: “Oh, Mary, can we allow it? It—it—you +see, it is an honour—reward, a testimonial to purity of character, +and—and—can we allow it? Hadn’t I better get +up and—Oh, Mary, what ought we to do?—what do you think +we—” [Halliday’s voice. “Fifteen I’m +bid!—fifteen for the sack!—twenty!—ah, thanks!—thirty—thanks +again! Thirty, thirty, thirty!—do I hear forty?—forty +it is! Keep the ball rolling, gentlemen, keep it rolling!—fifty!—thanks, +noble Roman!—going at fifty, fifty, fifty!—seventy!—ninety!—splendid!—a +hundred!—pile it up, pile it up!—hundred and twenty—forty!—just +in time!—hundred and fifty!—Two hundred!—superb! +Do I hear two h—thanks!—two hundred and fifty!—”]</p> +<p>“It is another temptation, Edward—I’m all in a +tremble—but, oh, we’ve escaped one temptation, and that +ought to warn us, to—[“Six did I hear?—thanks!—six +fifty, six f—SEVEN hundred!”] And yet, Edward, when +you think—nobody susp—[“Eight hundred dollars!—hurrah!—make +it nine!—Mr. Parsons, did I hear you say—thanks!—nine!—this +noble sack of virgin lead going at only nine hundred dollars, gilding +and all—come! do I hear—a thousand!—gratefully yours!—did +some one say eleven?—a sack which is going to be the most celebrated +in the whole Uni—”] “Oh, Edward” (beginning +to sob), “we are so poor!—but—but—do as you +think best—do as you think best.”</p> +<p>Edward fell—that is, he sat still; sat with a conscience which +was not satisfied, but which was overpowered by circumstances.</p> +<p>Meantime a stranger, who looked like an amateur detective gotten +up as an impossible English earl, had been watching the evening’s +proceedings with manifest interest, and with a contented expression +in his face; and he had been privately commenting to himself. +He was now soliloquising somewhat like this: “None of the Eighteen +are bidding; that is not satisfactory; I must change that—the +dramatic unities require it; they must buy the sack they tried to steal; +they must pay a heavy price, too—some of them are rich. +And another thing, when I make a mistake in Hadleyburg nature the man +that puts that error upon me is entitled to a high honorarium, and some +one must pay. This poor old Richards has brought my judgment to +shame; he is an honest man:—I don’t understand it, but I +acknowledge it. Yes, he saw my deuces—<i>and</i> with a +straight flush, and by rights the pot is his. And it shall be +a jack-pot, too, if I can manage it. He disappointed me, but let +that pass.”</p> +<p>He was watching the bidding. At a thousand, the market broke: +the prices tumbled swiftly. He waited—and still watched. +One competitor dropped out; then another, and another. He put +in a bid or two now. When the bids had sunk to ten dollars, he +added a five; some one raised him a three; he waited a moment, then +flung in a fifty-dollar jump, and the sack was his—at $1,282. +The house broke out in cheers—then stopped; for he was on his +feet, and had lifted his hand. He began to speak.</p> +<p>“I desire to say a word, and ask a favour. I am a speculator +in rarities, and I have dealings with persons interested in numismatics +all over the world. I can make a profit on this purchase, just +as it stands; but there is a way, if I can get your approval, whereby +I can make every one of these leaden twenty-dollar pieces worth its +face in gold, and perhaps more. Grant me that approval, and I +will give part of my gains to your Mr. Richards, whose invulnerable +probity you have so justly and so cordially recognised to-night; his +share shall be ten thousand dollars, and I will hand him the money to-morrow. +[Great applause from the house. But the “invulnerable probity” +made the Richardses blush prettily; however, it went for modesty, and +did no harm.] If you will pass my proposition by a good majority—I +would like a two-thirds vote—I will regard that as the town’s +consent, and that is all I ask. Rarities are always helped by +any device which will rouse curiosity and compel remark. Now if +I may have your permission to stamp upon the faces of each of these +ostensible coins the names of the eighteen gentlemen who—”</p> +<p>Nine-tenths of the audience were on their feet in a moment—dog +and all—and the proposition was carried with a whirlwind of approving +applause and laughter.</p> +<p>They sat down, and all the Symbols except “Dr.” Clay +Harkness got up, violently protesting against the proposed outrage, +and threatening to—</p> +<p>“I beg you not to threaten me,” said the stranger calmly. +“I know my legal rights, and am not accustomed to being frightened +at bluster.” [Applause.] He sat down. “Dr.” +Harkness saw an opportunity here. He was one of the two very rich +men of the place, and Pinkerton was the other. Harkness was proprietor +of a mint; that is to say, a popular patent medicine. He was running +for the Legislature on one ticket, and Pinkerton on the other. +It was a close race and a hot one, and getting hotter every day. +Both had strong appetites for money; each had bought a great tract of +land, with a purpose; there was going to be a new railway, and each +wanted to be in the Legislature and help locate the route to his own +advantage; a single vote might make the decision, and with it two or +three fortunes. The stake was large, and Harkness was a daring +speculator. He was sitting close to the stranger. He leaned +over while one or another of the other Symbols was entertaining the +house with protests and appeals, and asked, in a whisper,</p> +<p>“What is your price for the sack?”</p> +<p>“Forty thousand dollars.”</p> +<p>“I’ll give you twenty.”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“Twenty-five.”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“Say thirty.”</p> +<p>“The price is forty thousand dollars; not a penny less.”</p> +<p>“All right, I’ll give it. I will come to the hotel +at ten in the morning. I don’t want it known; will see you +privately.”</p> +<p>“Very good.” Then the stranger got up and said +to the house:</p> +<p>“I find it late. The speeches of these gentlemen are +not without merit, not without interest, not without grace; yet if I +may be excused I will take my leave. I thank you for the great +favour which you have shown me in granting my petition. I ask +the Chair to keep the sack for me until to-morrow, and to hand these +three five-hundred-dollar notes to Mr. Richards.” They were +passed up to the Chair.</p> +<p>“At nine I will call for the sack, and at eleven will deliver +the rest of the ten thousand to Mr. Richards in person at his home. +Good-night.”</p> +<p>Then he slipped out, and left the audience making a vast noise, which +was composed of a mixture of cheers, the “Mikado” song, +dog-disapproval, and the chant, “You are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-d +man—a-a-a a-men!”</p> +<h2>IV.</h2> +<p>At home the Richardses had to endure congratulations and compliments +until midnight. Then they were left to themselves. They +looked a little sad, and they sat silent and thinking. Finally +Mary sighed and said:</p> +<p>“Do you think we are to blame, Edward—<i>much</i> to +blame?” and her eyes wandered to the accusing triplet of big bank-notes +lying on the table, where the congratulators had been gloating over +them and reverently fingering them. Edward did not answer at once; +then he brought out a sigh and said, hesitatingly:</p> +<p>“We—we couldn’t help it, Mary. It—well +it was ordered. <i>All</i> things are.”</p> +<p>Mary glanced up and looked at him steadily, but he didn’t return +the look. Presently she said:</p> +<p>“I thought congratulations and praises always tasted good. +But—it seems to me, now—Edward?”</p> +<p>“Well?”</p> +<p>“Are you going to stay in the bank?”</p> +<p>“N—no.”</p> +<p>“Resign?”</p> +<p>“In the morning—by note.”</p> +<p>“It does seem best.”</p> +<p>Richards bowed his head in his hands and muttered:</p> +<p>“Before I was not afraid to let oceans of people’s money +pour through my hands, but—Mary, I am so tired, so tired—”</p> +<p>“We will go to bed.”</p> +<p>At nine in the morning the stranger called for the sack and took +it to the hotel in a cab. At ten Harkness had a talk with him +privately. The stranger asked for and got five cheques on a metropolitan +bank—drawn to “Bearer,”—four for $1,500 each, +and one for $34,000. He put one of the former in his pocket-book, +and the remainder, representing $38,500, he put in an envelope, and +with these he added a note which he wrote after Harkness was gone. +At eleven he called at the Richards’ house and knocked. +Mrs. Richards peeped through the shutters, then went and received the +envelope, and the stranger disappeared without a word. She came +back flushed and a little unsteady on her legs, and gasped out:</p> +<p>“I am sure I recognised him! Last night it seemed to +me that maybe I had seen him somewhere before.”</p> +<p>“He is the man that brought the sack here?”</p> +<p>“I am almost sure of it.”</p> +<p>“Then he is the ostensible Stephenson too, and sold every important +citizen in this town with his bogus secret. Now if he has sent +cheques instead of money, we are sold too, after we thought we had escaped. +I was beginning to feel fairly comfortable once more, after my night’s +rest, but the look of that envelope makes me sick. It isn’t +fat enough; $8,500 in even the largest bank-notes makes more bulk than +that.”</p> +<p>“Edward, why do you object to cheques?”</p> +<p>“Cheques signed by Stephenson! I am resigned to take +the $8,500 if it could come in bank-notes—for it does seem that +it was so ordered, Mary—but I have never had much courage, and +I have not the pluck to try to market a cheque signed with that disastrous +name. It would be a trap. That man tried to catch me; we +escaped somehow or other; and now he is trying a new way. If it +is cheques—”</p> +<p>“Oh, Edward, it is <i>too</i> bad!” And she held +up the cheques and began to cry.</p> +<p>“Put them in the fire! quick! we mustn’t be tempted. +It is a trick to make the world laugh at <i>us</i>, along with the rest, +and—Give them to <i>me</i>, since you can’t do it!” +He snatched them and tried to hold his grip till he could get to the +stove; but he was human, he was a cashier, and he stopped a moment to +make sure of the signature. Then he came near to fainting.</p> +<p>“Fan me, Mary, fan me! They are the same as gold!”</p> +<p>“Oh, how lovely, Edward! Why?”</p> +<p>“Signed by Harkness. What can the mystery of that be, +Mary?”</p> +<p>“Edward, do you think—”</p> +<p>“Look here—look at this! Fifteen—fifteen—fifteen—thirty-four. +Thirty-eight thousand five hundred! Mary, the sack isn’t +worth twelve dollars, and Harkness—apparently—has paid about +par for it.”</p> +<p>“And does it all come to us, do you think—instead of +the ten thousand?”</p> +<p>“Why, it looks like it. And the cheques are made to ‘Bearer,’ +too.”</p> +<p>“Is that good, Edward? What is it for?”</p> +<p>“A hint to collect them at some distant bank, I reckon. +Perhaps Harkness doesn’t want the matter known. What is +that—a note?”</p> +<p>“Yes. It was with the cheques.”</p> +<p>It was in the “Stephenson” handwriting, but there was +no signature. It said:</p> +<blockquote><p>“I am a disappointed man. Your honesty is +beyond the reach of temptation. I had a different idea about it, +but I wronged you in that, and I beg pardon, and do it sincerely. +I honour you—and that is sincere too. This town is not worthy +to kiss the hem of your garment. Dear sir, I made a square bet +with myself that there were nineteen debauchable men in your self-righteous +community. I have lost. Take the whole pot, you are entitled +to it.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Richards drew a deep sigh, and said:</p> +<p>“It seems written with fire—it burns so. Mary—I +am miserable again.”</p> +<p>“I, too. Ah, dear, I wish—”</p> +<p>“To think, Mary—he <i>believes</i> in me.”<br> +</p> +<p>“Oh, don’t, Edward—I can’t bear it.”</p> +<p>“If those beautiful words were deserved, Mary—and God +knows I believed I deserved them once—I think I could give the +forty thousand dollars for them. And I would put that paper away, +as representing more than gold and jewels, and keep it always. +But now—We could not live in the shadow of its accusing presence, +Mary.”</p> +<p>He put it in the fire.</p> +<p>A messenger arrived and delivered an envelope. Richards took +from it a note and read it; it was from Burgess:</p> +<blockquote><p>“You saved me, in a difficult time. I saved +you last night. It was at cost of a lie, but I made the sacrifice +freely, and out of a grateful heart. None in this village knows +so well as I know how brave and good and noble you are. At bottom +you cannot respect me, knowing as you do of that matter of which I am +accused, and by the general voice condemned; but I beg that you will +at least believe that I am a grateful man; it will help me to bear my +burden. [Signed] ‘BURGESS.’”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Saved, once more. And on such terms!” He +put the note in the fire. “I—I wish I were dead, Mary, +I wish I were out of it all!”</p> +<p>“Oh, these are bitter, bitter days, Edward. The stabs, +through their very generosity, are so deep—and they come so fast!”</p> +<p>Three days before the election each of two thousand voters suddenly +found himself in possession of a prized memento—one of the renowned +bogus double-eagles. Around one of its faces was stamped these +words: “THE REMARK I MADE TO THE POOR STRANGER WAS—” +Around the other face was stamped these: “GO, AND REFORM. +[SIGNED] PINKERTON.” Thus the entire remaining refuse of +the renowned joke was emptied upon a single head, and with calamitous +effect. It revived the recent vast laugh and concentrated it upon +Pinkerton; and Harkness’s election was a walk-over.</p> +<p>Within twenty-four hours after the Richardses had received their +cheques their consciences were quieting down, discouraged; the old couple +were learning to reconcile themselves to the sin which they had committed. +But they were to learn, now, that a sin takes on new and real terrors +when there seems a chance that it is going to be found out. This +gives it a fresh and most substantial and important aspect. At +church the morning sermon was of the usual pattern; it was the same +old things said in the same old way; they had heard them a thousand +times and found them innocuous, next to meaningless, and easy to sleep +under; but now it was different: the sermon seemed to bristle with accusations; +it seemed aimed straight and specially at people who were concealing +deadly sins. After church they got away from the mob of congratulators +as soon as they could, and hurried homeward, chilled to the bone at +they did not know what—vague, shadowy, indefinite fears. +And by chance they caught a glimpse of Mr. Burgess as he turned a corner. +He paid no attention to their nod of recognition! He hadn’t +seen it; but they did not know that. What could his conduct mean? +It might mean—it might—mean—oh, a dozen dreadful things. +Was it possible that he knew that Richards could have cleared him of +guilt in that bygone time, and had been silently waiting for a chance +to even up accounts? At home, in their distress they got to imagining +that their servant might have been in the next room listening when Richards +revealed the secret to his wife that he knew of Burgess’s innocence; +next Richards began to imagine that he had heard the swish of a gown +in there at that time; next, he was sure he <i>had</i> heard it. +They would call Sarah in, on a pretext, and watch her face; if she had +been betraying them to Mr. Burgess, it would show in her manner. +They asked her some questions—questions which were so random and +incoherent and seemingly purposeless that the girl felt sure that the +old people’s minds had been affected by their sudden good fortune; +the sharp and watchful gaze which they bent upon her frightened her, +and that completed the business. She blushed, she became nervous +and confused, and to the old people these were plain signs of guilt—guilt +of some fearful sort or other—without doubt she was a spy and +a traitor. When they were alone again they began to piece many +unrelated things together and get horrible results out of the combination. +When things had got about to the worst Richards was delivered of a sudden +gasp and his wife asked:</p> +<p>“Oh, what is it?—what is it?”</p> +<p>“The note—Burgess’s note! Its language was +sarcastic, I see it now.” He quoted: “‘At bottom +you cannot respect me, <i>knowing</i>, as you do, of <i>that matter +of</i> which I am accused’—oh, it is perfectly plain, now, +God help me! He knows that I know! You see the ingenuity +of the phrasing. It was a trap—and like a fool, I walked +into it. And Mary—!”</p> +<p>“Oh, it is dreadful—I know what you are going to say—he +didn’t return your transcript of the pretended test-remark.”</p> +<p>“No—kept it to destroy us with. Mary, he has exposed +us to some already. I know it—I know it well. I saw +it in a dozen faces after church. Ah, he wouldn’t answer +our nod of recognition—he knew what he had been doing!”</p> +<p>In the night the doctor was called. The news went around in +the morning that the old couple were rather seriously ill—prostrated +by the exhausting excitement growing out of their great windfall, the +congratulations, and the late hours, the doctor said. The town +was sincerely distressed; for these old people were about all it had +left to be proud of, now.</p> +<p>Two days later the news was worse. The old couple were delirious, +and were doing strange things. By witness of the nurses, Richards +had exhibited cheques—for $8,500? No—for an amazing +sum—$38,500! What could be the explanation of this gigantic +piece of luck?</p> +<p>The following day the nurses had more news—and wonderful. +They had concluded to hide the cheques, lest harm come to them; but +when they searched they were gone from under the patient’s pillow—vanished +away. The patient said:</p> +<p>“Let the pillow alone; what do you want?”</p> +<p>“We thought it best that the cheques—”</p> +<p>“You will never see them again—they are destroyed. +They came from Satan. I saw the hell-brand on them, and I knew +they were sent to betray me to sin.” Then he fell to gabbling +strange and dreadful things which were not clearly understandable, and +which the doctor admonished them to keep to themselves.</p> +<p>Richards was right; the cheques were never seen again.</p> +<p>A nurse must have talked in her sleep, for within two days the forbidden +gabblings were the property of the town; and they were of a surprising +sort. They seemed to indicate that Richards had been a claimant +for the sack himself, and that Burgess had concealed that fact and then +maliciously betrayed it.</p> +<p>Burgess was taxed with this and stoutly denied it. And he said +it was not fair to attach weight to the chatter of a sick old man who +was out of his mind. Still, suspicion was in the air, and there +was much talk.</p> +<p>After a day or two it was reported that Mrs. Richards’s delirious +deliveries were getting to be duplicates of her husband’s. +Suspicion flamed up into conviction, now, and the town’s pride +in the purity of its one undiscredited important citizen began to dim +down and flicker toward extinction.</p> +<p>Six days passed, then came more news. The old couple were dying. +Richards’s mind cleared in his latest hour, and he sent for Burgess. +Burgess said:</p> +<p>“Let the room be cleared. I think he wishes to say something +in privacy.”</p> +<p>“No!” said Richards; “I want witnesses. I +want you all to hear my confession, so that I may die a man, and not +a dog. I was clean—artificially—like the rest; and +like the rest I fell when temptation came. I signed a lie, and +claimed the miserable sack. Mr. Burgess remembered that I had +done him a service, and in gratitude (and ignorance) he suppressed my +claim and saved me. You know the thing that was charged against +Burgess years ago. My testimony, and mine alone, could have cleared +him, and I was a coward and left him to suffer disgrace—”</p> +<p>“No—no—Mr. Richards, you—”</p> +<p>“My servant betrayed my secret to him—”</p> +<p>“No one has betrayed anything to me—”</p> +<p>—“And then he did a natural and justifiable thing; he +repented of the saving kindness which he had done me, and he <i>exposed</i> +me—as I deserved—”</p> +<p>“Never!—I make oath—”</p> +<p>“Out of my heart I forgive him.”</p> +<p>Burgess’s impassioned protestations fell upon deaf ears; the +dying man passed away without knowing that once more he had done poor +Burgess a wrong. The old wife died that night.</p> +<p>The last of the sacred Nineteen had fallen a prey to the fiendish +sack; the town was stripped of the last rag of its ancient glory. +Its mourning was not showy, but it was deep.</p> +<p>By act of the Legislature—upon prayer and petition—Hadleyburg +was allowed to change its name to (never mind what—I will not +give it away), and leave one word out of the motto that for many generations +had graced the town’s official seal.</p> +<p>It is an honest town once more, and the man will have to rise early +that catches it napping again.</p> + + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN THAT CORRUPTED HADLEYBURG ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law 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™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following +the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use +of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for +copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very +easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation +of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project +Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may +do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected +by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark +license, especially commercial redistribution. +</div> + +<div style='margin-top:1em; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE</div> +<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE</div> +<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em'>PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person +or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the +Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when +you share it without charge with others. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country other than the United States. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work +on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: +</div> + +<blockquote> + <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most + other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you + are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws + of the country where you are located before using this eBook. + </div> +</blockquote> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg™ License. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format +other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain +Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +provided that: +</div> + +<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation.” + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ + works. + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. + </div> +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of +the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set +forth in Section 3 below. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, +Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up +to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website +and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread +public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state +visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Most people start at our website which has the main PG search +facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, +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. +</div> + +</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/old/old/1213-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/old/1213-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..636cd00 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/1213-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/old/old/1213.txt b/old/old/1213.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d72a9ec --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/1213.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2456 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg, by Mark +Twain + + +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 Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg + + +Author: Mark Twain + +Release Date: April 1, 2005 [eBook #1213] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN THAT CORRUPTED HADLEYBURG*** + + + + + +Transcribed from the 1907 Chatto & Windus edition by David Price, email +ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + + + +THE MAN THAT CORRUPTED HADLEYBURG + + +I. + + +It was many years ago. Hadleyburg was the most honest and upright town +in all the region round about. It had kept that reputation unsmirched +during three generations, and was prouder of it than of any other of its +possessions. It was so proud of it, and so anxious to insure its +perpetuation, that it began to teach the principles of honest dealing to +its babies in the cradle, and made the like teachings the staple of their +culture thenceforward through all the years devoted to their education. +Also, throughout the formative years temptations were kept out of the way +of the young people, so that their honesty could have every chance to +harden and solidify, and become a part of their very bone. The +neighbouring towns were jealous of this honourable supremacy, and +affected to sneer at Hadleyburg's pride in it and call it vanity; but all +the same they were obliged to acknowledge that Hadleyburg was in reality +an incorruptible town; and if pressed they would also acknowledge that +the mere fact that a young man hailed from Hadleyburg was all the +recommendation he needed when he went forth from his natal town to seek +for responsible employment. + +But at last, in the drift of time, Hadleyburg had the ill luck to offend +a passing stranger--possibly without knowing it, certainly without +caring, for Hadleyburg was sufficient unto itself, and cared not a rap +for strangers or their opinions. Still, it would have been well to make +an exception in this one's case, for he was a bitter man, and revengeful. +All through his wanderings during a whole year he kept his injury in +mind, and gave all his leisure moments to trying to invent a compensating +satisfaction for it. He contrived many plans, and all of them were good, +but none of them was quite sweeping enough: the poorest of them would +hurt a great many individuals, but what he wanted was a plan which would +comprehend the entire town, and not let so much as one person escape +unhurt. At last he had a fortunate idea, and when it fell into his brain +it lit up his whole head with an evil joy. He began to form a plan at +once, saying to himself "That is the thing to do--I will corrupt the +town." + +Six months later he went to Hadleyburg, and arrived in a buggy at the +house of the old cashier of the bank about ten at night. He got a sack +out of the buggy, shouldered it, and staggered with it through the +cottage yard, and knocked at the door. A woman's voice said "Come in," +and he entered, and set his sack behind the stove in the parlour, saying +politely to the old lady who sat reading the "Missionary Herald" by the +lamp: + +"Pray keep your seat, madam, I will not disturb you. There--now it is +pretty well concealed; one would hardly know it was there. Can I see +your husband a moment, madam?" + +No, he was gone to Brixton, and might not return before morning. + +"Very well, madam, it is no matter. I merely wanted to leave that sack +in his care, to be delivered to the rightful owner when he shall be +found. I am a stranger; he does not know me; I am merely passing through +the town to-night to discharge a matter which has been long in my mind. +My errand is now completed, and I go pleased and a little proud, and you +will never see me again. There is a paper attached to the sack which +will explain everything. Good-night, madam." + +The old lady was afraid of the mysterious big stranger, and was glad to +see him go. But her curiosity was roused, and she went straight to the +sack and brought away the paper. It began as follows: + + "TO BE PUBLISHED, or, the right man sought out by private + inquiry--either will answer. This sack contains gold coin weighing a + hundred and sixty pounds four ounces--" + +"Mercy on us, and the door not locked!" + +Mrs. Richards flew to it all in a tremble and locked it, then pulled down +the window-shades and stood frightened, worried, and wondering if there +was anything else she could do toward making herself and the money more +safe. She listened awhile for burglars, then surrendered to curiosity, +and went back to the lamp and finished reading the paper: + + "I am a foreigner, and am presently going back to my own country, to + remain there permanently. I am grateful to America for what I have + received at her hands during my long stay under her flag; and to one + of her citizens--a citizen of Hadleyburg--I am especially grateful for + a great kindness done me a year or two ago. Two great kindnesses in + fact. I will explain. I was a gambler. I say I WAS. I was a ruined + gambler. I arrived in this village at night, hungry and without a + penny. I asked for help--in the dark; I was ashamed to beg in the + light. I begged of the right man. He gave me twenty dollars--that is + to say, he gave me life, as I considered it. He also gave me fortune; + for out of that money I have made myself rich at the gaming-table. And + finally, a remark which he made to me has remained with me to this + day, and has at last conquered me; and in conquering has saved the + remnant of my morals: I shall gamble no more. Now I have no idea who + that man was, but I want him found, and I want him to have this money, + to give away, throw away, or keep, as he pleases. It is merely my way + of testifying my gratitude to him. If I could stay, I would find him + myself; but no matter, he will be found. This is an honest town, an + incorruptible town, and I know I can trust it without fear. This man + can be identified by the remark which he made to me; I feel persuaded + that he will remember it. + + "And now my plan is this: If you prefer to conduct the inquiry + privately, do so. Tell the contents of this present writing to any + one who is likely to be the right man. If he shall answer, 'I am the + man; the remark I made was so-and-so,' apply the test--to wit: open + the sack, and in it you will find a sealed envelope containing that + remark. If the remark mentioned by the candidate tallies with it, + give him the money, and ask no further questions, for he is certainly + the right man. + + "But if you shall prefer a public inquiry, then publish this present + writing in the local paper--with these instructions added, to wit: + Thirty days from now, let the candidate appear at the town-hall at + eight in the evening (Friday), and hand his remark, in a sealed + envelope, to the Rev. Mr. Burgess (if he will be kind enough to act); + and let Mr. Burgess there and then destroy the seals of the sack, open + it, and see if the remark is correct: if correct, let the money be + delivered, with my sincere gratitude, to my benefactor thus + identified." + +Mrs. Richards sat down, gently quivering with excitement, and was soon +lost in thinkings--after this pattern: "What a strange thing it is! . . . +And what a fortune for that kind man who set his bread afloat upon the +waters! . . . If it had only been my husband that did it!--for we are so +poor, so old and poor! . . ." Then, with a sigh--"But it was not my +Edward; no, it was not he that gave a stranger twenty dollars. It is a +pity too; I see it now. . . " Then, with a shudder--"But it is +_gamblers_' money! the wages of sin; we couldn't take it; we couldn't +touch it. I don't like to be near it; it seems a defilement." She moved +to a farther chair. . . "I wish Edward would come, and take it to the +bank; a burglar might come at any moment; it is dreadful to be here all +alone with it." + +At eleven Mr. Richards arrived, and while his wife was saying "I am _so_ +glad you've come!" he was saying, "I am so tired--tired clear out; it is +dreadful to be poor, and have to make these dismal journeys at my time of +life. Always at the grind, grind, grind, on a salary--another man's +slave, and he sitting at home in his slippers, rich and comfortable." + +"I am so sorry for you, Edward, you know that; but be comforted; we have +our livelihood; we have our good name--" + +"Yes, Mary, and that is everything. Don't mind my talk--it's just a +moment's irritation and doesn't mean anything. Kiss me--there, it's all +gone now, and I am not complaining any more. What have you been getting? +What's in the sack?" + +Then his wife told him the great secret. It dazed him for a moment; then +he said: + +"It weighs a hundred and sixty pounds? Why, Mary, it's for-ty thou-sand +dollars--think of it--a whole fortune! Not ten men in this village are +worth that much. Give me the paper." + +He skimmed through it and said: + +"Isn't it an adventure! Why, it's a romance; it's like the impossible +things one reads about in books, and never sees in life." He was well +stirred up now; cheerful, even gleeful. He tapped his old wife on the +cheek, and said humorously, "Why, we're rich, Mary, rich; all we've got +to do is to bury the money and burn the papers. If the gambler ever +comes to inquire, we'll merely look coldly upon him and say: 'What is +this nonsense you are talking? We have never heard of you and your sack +of gold before;' and then he would look foolish, and--" + +"And in the meantime, while you are running on with your jokes, the money +is still here, and it is fast getting along toward burglar-time." + +"True. Very well, what shall we do--make the inquiry private? No, not +that; it would spoil the romance. The public method is better. Think +what a noise it will make! And it will make all the other towns jealous; +for no stranger would trust such a thing to any town but Hadleyburg, and +they know it. It's a great card for us. I must get to the +printing-office now, or I shall be too late." + +"But stop--stop--don't leave me here alone with it, Edward!" + +But he was gone. For only a little while, however. Not far from his own +house he met the editor--proprietor of the paper, and gave him the +document, and said "Here is a good thing for you, Cox--put it in." + +"It may be too late, Mr. Richards, but I'll see." + +At home again, he and his wife sat down to talk the charming mystery +over; they were in no condition for sleep. The first question was, Who +could the citizen have been who gave the stranger the twenty dollars? It +seemed a simple one; both answered it in the same breath-- + +"Barclay Goodson." + +"Yes," said Richards, "he could have done it, and it would have been like +him, but there's not another in the town." + +"Everybody will grant that, Edward--grant it privately, anyway. For six +months, now, the village has been its own proper self once more--honest, +narrow, self-righteous, and stingy." + +"It is what he always called it, to the day of his death--said it right +out publicly, too." + +"Yes, and he was hated for it." + +"Oh, of course; but he didn't care. I reckon he was the best-hated man +among us, except the Reverend Burgess." + +"Well, Burgess deserves it--he will never get another congregation here. +Mean as the town is, it knows how to estimate _him_. Edward, doesn't it +seem odd that the stranger should appoint Burgess to deliver the money?" + +"Well, yes--it does. That is--that is--" + +"Why so much that-_is_-ing? Would _you_ select him?" + +"Mary, maybe the stranger knows him better than this village does." + +"Much _that_ would help Burgess!" + +The husband seemed perplexed for an answer; the wife kept a steady eye +upon him, and waited. Finally Richards said, with the hesitancy of one +who is making a statement which is likely to encounter doubt, + +"Mary, Burgess is not a bad man." + +His wife was certainly surprised. + +"Nonsense!" she exclaimed. + +"He is not a bad man. I know. The whole of his unpopularity had its +foundation in that one thing--the thing that made so much noise." + +"That 'one thing,' indeed! As if that 'one thing' wasn't enough, all by +itself." + +"Plenty. Plenty. Only he wasn't guilty of it." + +"How you talk! Not guilty of it! Everybody knows he _was_ guilty." + +"Mary, I give you my word--he was innocent." + +"I can't believe it and I don't. How do you know?" + +"It is a confession. I am ashamed, but I will make it. I was the only +man who knew he was innocent. I could have saved him, and--and--well, +you know how the town was wrought up--I hadn't the pluck to do it. It +would have turned everybody against me. I felt mean, ever so mean; ut I +didn't dare; I hadn't the manliness to face that." + +Mary looked troubled, and for a while was silent. Then she said +stammeringly: + +"I--I don't think it would have done for you to--to--One +mustn't--er--public opinion--one has to be so careful--so--" It was a +difficult road, and she got mired; but after a little she got started +again. "It was a great pity, but--Why, we couldn't afford it, Edward--we +couldn't indeed. Oh, I wouldn't have had you do it for anything!" + +"It would have lost us the good-will of so many people, Mary; and +then--and then--" + +"What troubles me now is, what _he_ thinks of us, Edward." + +"He? _He_ doesn't suspect that I could have saved him." + +"Oh," exclaimed the wife, in a tone of relief, "I am glad of that. As +long as he doesn't know that you could have saved him, he--he--well that +makes it a great deal better. Why, I might have known he didn't know, +because he is always trying to be friendly with us, as little +encouragement as we give him. More than once people have twitted me with +it. There's the Wilsons, and the Wilcoxes, and the Harknesses, they take +a mean pleasure in saying '_Your friend_ Burgess,' because they know it +pesters me. I wish he wouldn't persist in liking us so; I can't think +why he keeps it up." + +"I can explain it. It's another confession. When the thing was new and +hot, and the town made a plan to ride him on a rail, my conscience hurt +me so that I couldn't stand it, and I went privately and gave him notice, +and he got out of the town and stayed out till it was safe to come back." + +"Edward! If the town had found it out--" + +"_Don't_! It scares me yet, to think of it. I repented of it the minute +it was done; and I was even afraid to tell you lest your face might +betray it to somebody. I didn't sleep any that night, for worrying. But +after a few days I saw that no one was going to suspect me, and after +that I got to feeling glad I did it. And I feel glad yet, Mary--glad +through and through." + +"So do I, now, for it would have been a dreadful way to treat him. Yes, +I'm glad; for really you did owe him that, you know. But, Edward, +suppose it should come out yet, some day!" + +"It won't." + +"Why?" + +"Because everybody thinks it was Goodson." + +"Of course they would!" + +"Certainly. And of course _he_ didn't care. They persuaded poor old +Sawlsberry to go and charge it on him, and he went blustering over there +and did it. Goodson looked him over, like as if he was hunting for a +place on him that he could despise the most; then he says, 'So you are +the Committee of Inquiry, are you?' Sawlsberry said that was about what +he was. 'H'm. Do they require particulars, or do you reckon a kind of a +_general_ answer will do?' 'If they require particulars, I will come +back, Mr. Goodson; I will take the general answer first.' 'Very well, +then, tell them to go to hell--I reckon that's general enough. And I'll +give you some advice, Sawlsberry; when you come back for the particulars, +fetch a basket to carry what is left of yourself home in.'" + +"Just like Goodson; it's got all the marks. He had only one vanity; he +thought he could give advice better than any other person." + +"It settled the business, and saved us, Mary. The subject was dropped." + +"Bless you, I'm not doubting _that_." + +Then they took up the gold-sack mystery again, with strong interest. Soon +the conversation began to suffer breaks--interruptions caused by absorbed +thinkings. The breaks grew more and more frequent. At last Richards +lost himself wholly in thought. He sat long, gazing vacantly at the +floor, and by-and-by he began to punctuate his thoughts with little +nervous movements of his hands that seemed to indicate vexation. Meantime +his wife too had relapsed into a thoughtful silence, and her movements +were beginning to show a troubled discomfort. Finally Richards got up +and strode aimlessly about the room, ploughing his hands through his +hair, much as a somnambulist might do who was having a bad dream. Then +he seemed to arrive at a definite purpose; and without a word he put on +his hat and passed quickly out of the house. His wife sat brooding, with +a drawn face, and did not seem to be aware that she was alone. Now and +then she murmured, "Lead us not into t . . . but--but--we are so poor, so +poor! . . . Lead us not into . . . Ah, who would be hurt by it?--and no +one would ever know . . . Lead us . . . " The voice died out in +mumblings. After a little she glanced up and muttered in a +half-frightened, half-glad way-- + +"He is gone! But, oh dear, he may be too late--too late . . . Maybe +not--maybe there is still time." She rose and stood thinking, nervously +clasping and unclasping her hands. A slight shudder shook her frame, and +she said, out of a dry throat, "God forgive me--it's awful to think such +things--but . . . Lord, how we are made--how strangely we are made!" + +She turned the light low, and slipped stealthily over and knelt down by +the sack and felt of its ridgy sides with her hands, and fondled them +lovingly; and there was a gloating light in her poor old eyes. She fell +into fits of absence; and came half out of them at times to mutter "If we +had only waited!--oh, if we had only waited a little, and not been in +such a hurry!" + +Meantime Cox had gone home from his office and told his wife all about +the strange thing that had happened, and they had talked it over eagerly, +and guessed that the late Goodson was the only man in the town who could +have helped a suffering stranger with so noble a sum as twenty dollars. +Then there was a pause, and the two became thoughtful and silent. And by- +and-by nervous and fidgety. At last the wife said, as if to herself, + +"Nobody knows this secret but the Richardses . . . and us . . . nobody." + +The husband came out of his thinkings with a slight start, and gazed +wistfully at his wife, whose face was become very pale; then he +hesitatingly rose, and glanced furtively at his hat, then at his wife--a +sort of mute inquiry. Mrs. Cox swallowed once or twice, with her hand at +her throat, then in place of speech she nodded her head. In a moment she +was alone, and mumbling to herself. + +And now Richards and Cox were hurrying through the deserted streets, from +opposite directions. They met, panting, at the foot of the +printing-office stairs; by the night-light there they read each other's +face. Cox whispered: + +"Nobody knows about this but us?" + +The whispered answer was: + +"Not a soul--on honour, not a soul!" + +"If it isn't too late to--" + +The men were starting up-stairs; at this moment they were overtaken by a +boy, and Cox asked, + +"Is that you, Johnny?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You needn't ship the early mail--nor _any_ mail; wait till I tell you." + +"It's already gone, sir." + +"_Gone_?" It had the sound of an unspeakable disappointment in it. + +"Yes, sir. Time-table for Brixton and all the towns beyond changed to- +day, sir--had to get the papers in twenty minutes earlier than common. I +had to rush; if I had been two minutes later--" + +The men turned and walked slowly away, not waiting to hear the rest. +Neither of them spoke during ten minutes; then Cox said, in a vexed tone, + +"What possessed you to be in such a hurry, _I_ can't make out." + +The answer was humble enough: + +"I see it now, but somehow I never thought, you know, until it was too +late. But the next time--" + +"Next time be hanged! It won't come in a thousand years." + +Then the friends separated without a good-night, and dragged themselves +home with the gait of mortally stricken men. At their homes their wives +sprang up with an eager "Well?"--then saw the answer with their eyes and +sank down sorrowing, without waiting for it to come in words. In both +houses a discussion followed of a heated sort--a new thing; there had +been discussions before, but not heated ones, not ungentle ones. The +discussions to-night were a sort of seeming plagiarisms of each other. +Mrs. Richards said: + +"If you had only waited, Edward--if you had only stopped to think; but +no, you must run straight to the printing-office and spread it all over +the world." + +"It _said_ publish it." + +"That is nothing; it also said do it privately, if you liked. There, +now--is that true, or not?" + +"Why, yes--yes, it is true; but when I thought what a stir it would make, +and what a compliment it was to Hadleyburg that a stranger should trust +it so--" + +"Oh, certainly, I know all that; but if you had only stopped to think, +you would have seen that you _couldn't_ find the right man, because he is +in his grave, and hasn't left chick nor child nor relation behind him; +and as long as the money went to somebody that awfully needed it, and +nobody would be hurt by it, and--and--" + +She broke down, crying. Her husband tried to think of some comforting +thing to say, and presently came out with this: + +"But after all, Mary, it must be for the best--it must be; we know that. +And we must remember that it was so ordered--" + +"Ordered! Oh, everything's _ordered_, when a person has to find some way +out when he has been stupid. Just the same, it was _ordered_ that the +money should come to us in this special way, and it was you that must +take it on yourself to go meddling with the designs of Providence--and +who gave you the right? It was wicked, that is what it was--just +blasphemous presumption, and no more becoming to a meek and humble +professor of--" + +"But, Mary, you know how we have been trained all our lives long, like +the whole village, till it is absolutely second nature to us to stop not +a single moment to think when there's an honest thing to be done--" + +"Oh, I know it, I know it--it's been one everlasting training and +training and training in honesty--honesty shielded, from the very cradle, +against every possible temptation, and so it's _artificial_ honesty, and +weak as water when temptation comes, as we have seen this night. God +knows I never had shade nor shadow of a doubt of my petrified and +indestructible honesty until now--and now, under the very first big and +real temptation, I--Edward, it is my belief that this town's honesty is +as rotten as mine is; as rotten as yours. It is a mean town, a hard, +stingy town, and hasn't a virtue in the world but this honesty it is so +celebrated for and so conceited about; and so help me, I do believe that +if ever the day comes that its honesty falls under great temptation, its +grand reputation will go to ruin like a house of cards. There, now, I've +made confession, and I feel better; I am a humbug, and I've been one all +my life, without knowing it. Let no man call me honest again--I will not +have it." + +"I--Well, Mary, I feel a good deal as you do: I certainly do. It seems +strange, too, so strange. I never could have believed it--never." + +A long silence followed; both were sunk in thought. At last the wife +looked up and said: + +"I know what you are thinking, Edward." + +Richards had the embarrassed look of a person who is caught. + +"I am ashamed to confess it, Mary, but--" + +"It's no matter, Edward, I was thinking the same question myself." + +"I hope so. State it." + +"You were thinking, if a body could only guess out _what the remark was_ +that Goodson made to the stranger." + +"It's perfectly true. I feel guilty and ashamed. And you?" + +"I'm past it. Let us make a pallet here; we've got to stand watch till +the bank vault opens in the morning and admits the sack. . . Oh dear, oh +dear--if we hadn't made the mistake!" + +The pallet was made, and Mary said: + +"The open sesame--what could it have been? I do wonder what that remark +could have been. But come; we will get to bed now." + +"And sleep?" + +"No; think." + +"Yes; think." + +By this time the Coxes too had completed their spat and their +reconciliation, and were turning in--to think, to think, and toss, and +fret, and worry over what the remark could possibly have been which +Goodson made to the stranded derelict; that golden remark; that remark +worth forty thousand dollars, cash. + +The reason that the village telegraph-office was open later than usual +that night was this: The foreman of Cox's paper was the local +representative of the Associated Press. One might say its honorary +representative, for it wasn't four times a year that he could furnish +thirty words that would be accepted. But this time it was different. His +despatch stating what he had caught got an instant answer: + + "Send the whole thing--all the details--twelve hundred words." + +A colossal order! The foreman filled the bill; and he was the proudest +man in the State. By breakfast-time the next morning the name of +Hadleyburg the Incorruptible was on every lip in America, from Montreal +to the Gulf, from the glaciers of Alaska to the orange-groves of Florida; +and millions and millions of people were discussing the stranger and his +money-sack, and wondering if the right man would be found, and hoping +some more news about the matter would come soon--right away. + + + + +II. + + +Hadleyburg village woke up world-celebrated--astonished--happy--vain. +Vain beyond imagination. Its nineteen principal citizens and their wives +went about shaking hands with each other, and beaming, and smiling, and +congratulating, and saying _this_ thing adds a new word to the +dictionary--_Hadleyburg_, synonym for _incorruptible_--destined to live +in dictionaries for ever! And the minor and unimportant citizens and +their wives went around acting in much the same way. Everybody ran to +the bank to see the gold-sack; and before noon grieved and envious crowds +began to flock in from Brixton and all neighbouring towns; and that +afternoon and next day reporters began to arrive from everywhere to +verify the sack and its history and write the whole thing up anew, and +make dashing free-hand pictures of the sack, and of Richards's house, and +the bank, and the Presbyterian church, and the Baptist church, and the +public square, and the town-hall where the test would be applied and the +money delivered; and damnable portraits of the Richardses, and Pinkerton +the banker, and Cox, and the foreman, and Reverend Burgess, and the +postmaster--and even of Jack Halliday, who was the loafing, good-natured, +no-account, irreverent fisherman, hunter, boys' friend, stray-dogs' +friend, typical "Sam Lawson" of the town. The little mean, smirking, +oily Pinkerton showed the sack to all comers, and rubbed his sleek palms +together pleasantly, and enlarged upon the town's fine old reputation for +honesty and upon this wonderful endorsement of it, and hoped and believed +that the example would now spread far and wide over the American world, +and be epoch-making in the matter of moral regeneration. And so on, and +so on. + +By the end of a week things had quieted down again; the wild intoxication +of pride and joy had sobered to a soft, sweet, silent delight--a sort of +deep, nameless, unutterable content. All faces bore a look of peaceful, +holy happiness. + +Then a change came. It was a gradual change; so gradual that its +beginnings were hardly noticed; maybe were not noticed at all, except by +Jack Halliday, who always noticed everything; and always made fun of it, +too, no matter what it was. He began to throw out chaffing remarks about +people not looking quite so happy as they did a day or two ago; and next +he claimed that the new aspect was deepening to positive sadness; next, +that it was taking on a sick look; and finally he said that everybody was +become so moody, thoughtful, and absent-minded that he could rob the +meanest man in town of a cent out of the bottom of his breeches pocket +and not disturb his reverie. + +At this stage--or at about this stage--a saying like this was dropped at +bedtime--with a sigh, usually--by the head of each of the nineteen +principal households: + +"Ah, what _could_ have been the remark that Goodson made?" + +And straightway--with a shudder--came this, from the man's wife: + +"Oh, _don't_! What horrible thing are you mulling in your mind? Put it +away from you, for God's sake!" + +But that question was wrung from those men again the next night--and got +the same retort. But weaker. + +And the third night the men uttered the question yet again--with anguish, +and absently. This time--and the following night--the wives fidgeted +feebly, and tried to say something. But didn't. + +And the night after that they found their tongues and +responded--longingly: + +"Oh, if we _could_ only guess!" + +Halliday's comments grew daily more and more sparklingly disagreeable and +disparaging. He went diligently about, laughing at the town, +individually and in mass. But his laugh was the only one left in the +village: it fell upon a hollow and mournful vacancy and emptiness. Not +even a smile was findable anywhere. Halliday carried a cigar-box around +on a tripod, playing that it was a camera, and halted all passers and +aimed the thing and said "Ready!--now look pleasant, please," but not +even this capital joke could surprise the dreary faces into any +softening. + +So three weeks passed--one week was left. It was Saturday evening after +supper. Instead of the aforetime Saturday-evening flutter and bustle and +shopping and larking, the streets were empty and desolate. Richards and +his old wife sat apart in their little parlour--miserable and thinking. +This was become their evening habit now: the life-long habit which had +preceded it, of reading, knitting, and contented chat, or receiving or +paying neighbourly calls, was dead and gone and forgotten, ages ago--two +or three weeks ago; nobody talked now, nobody read, nobody visited--the +whole village sat at home, sighing, worrying, silent. Trying to guess +out that remark. + +The postman left a letter. Richards glanced listlessly at the +superscription and the post-mark--unfamiliar, both--and tossed the letter +on the table and resumed his might-have-beens and his hopeless dull +miseries where he had left them off. Two or three hours later his wife +got wearily up and was going away to bed without a good-night--custom +now--but she stopped near the letter and eyed it awhile with a dead +interest, then broke it open, and began to skim it over. Richards, +sitting there with his chair tilted back against the wall and his chin +between his knees, heard something fall. It was his wife. He sprang to +her side, but she cried out: + +"Leave me alone, I am too happy. Read the letter--read it!" + +He did. He devoured it, his brain reeling. The letter was from a +distant State, and it said: + + "I am a stranger to you, but no matter: I have something to tell. I + have just arrived home from Mexico, and learned about that episode. Of + course you do not know who made that remark, but I know, and I am the + only person living who does know. It was GOODSON. I knew him well, + many years ago. I passed through your village that very night, and + was his guest till the midnight train came along. I overheard him + make that remark to the stranger in the dark--it was in Hale Alley. He + and I talked of it the rest of the way home, and while smoking in his + house. He mentioned many of your villagers in the course of his + talk--most of them in a very uncomplimentary way, but two or three + favourably: among these latter yourself. I say 'favourably'--nothing + stronger. I remember his saying he did not actually LIKE any person + in the town--not one; but that you--I THINK he said you--am almost + sure--had done him a very great service once, possibly without knowing + the full value of it, and he wished he had a fortune, he would leave + it to you when he died, and a curse apiece for the rest of the + citizens. Now, then, if it was you that did him that service, you are + his legitimate heir, and entitled to the sack of gold. I know that I + can trust to your honour and honesty, for in a citizen of Hadleyburg + these virtues are an unfailing inheritance, and so I am going to + reveal to you the remark, well satisfied that if you are not the right + man you will seek and find the right one and see that poor Goodson's + debt of gratitude for the service referred to is paid. This is the + remark 'YOU ARE FAR FROM BEING A BAD MAN: GO, AND REFORM.' + + "HOWARD L. STEPHENSON." + +"Oh, Edward, the money is ours, and I am so grateful, _oh_, so +grateful,--kiss me, dear, it's for ever since we kissed--and we needed it +so--the money--and now you are free of Pinkerton and his bank, and +nobody's slave any more; it seems to me I could fly for joy." + +It was a happy half-hour that the couple spent there on the settee +caressing each other; it was the old days come again--days that had begun +with their courtship and lasted without a break till the stranger brought +the deadly money. By-and-by the wife said: + +"Oh, Edward, how lucky it was you did him that grand service, poor +Goodson! I never liked him, but I love him now. And it was fine and +beautiful of you never to mention it or brag about it." Then, with a +touch of reproach, "But you ought to have told _me_, Edward, you ought to +have told your wife, you know." + +"Well, I--er--well, Mary, you see--" + +"Now stop hemming and hawing, and tell me about it, Edward. I always +loved you, and now I'm proud of you. Everybody believes there was only +one good generous soul in this village, and now it turns out that +you--Edward, why don't you tell me?" + +"Well--er--er--Why, Mary, I can't!" + +"You _can't_? _Why_ can't you?" + +"You see, he--well, he--he made me promise I wouldn't." + +The wife looked him over, and said, very slowly: + +"Made--you--promise? Edward, what do you tell me that for?" + +"Mary, do you think I would lie?" + +She was troubled and silent for a moment, then she laid her hand within +his and said: + +"No . . . no. We have wandered far enough from our bearings--God spare +us that! In all your life you have never uttered a lie. But now--now +that the foundations of things seem to be crumbling from under us, +we--we--" She lost her voice for a moment, then said, brokenly, "Lead us +not into temptation. . . I think you made the promise, Edward. Let it +rest so. Let us keep away from that ground. Now--that is all gone by; +let us he happy again; it is no time for clouds." + +Edward found it something of an effort to comply, for his mind kept +wandering--trying to remember what the service was that he had done +Goodson. + +The couple lay awake the most of the night, Mary happy and busy, Edward +busy, but not so happy. Mary was planning what she would do with the +money. Edward was trying to recall that service. At first his +conscience was sore on account of the lie he had told Mary--if it was a +lie. After much reflection--suppose it _was_ a lie? What then? Was it +such a great matter? Aren't we always _acting_ lies? Then why not tell +them? Look at Mary--look what she had done. While he was hurrying off +on his honest errand, what was she doing? Lamenting because the papers +hadn't been destroyed and the money kept. Is theft better than lying? + +_That_ point lost its sting--the lie dropped into the background and left +comfort behind it. The next point came to the front: _had_ he rendered +that service? Well, here was Goodson's own evidence as reported in +Stephenson's letter; there could be no better evidence than that--it was +even _proof_ that he had rendered it. Of course. So that point was +settled. . . No, not quite. He recalled with a wince that this unknown +Mr. Stephenson was just a trifle unsure as to whether the performer of it +was Richards or some other--and, oh dear, he had put Richards on his +honour! He must himself decide whither that money must go--and Mr. +Stephenson was not doubting that if he was the wrong man he would go +honourably and find the right one. Oh, it was odious to put a man in +such a situation--ah, why couldn't Stephenson have left out that doubt? +What did he want to intrude that for? + +Further reflection. How did it happen that _Richards's_ name remained in +Stephenson's mind as indicating the right man, and not some other man's +name? That looked good. Yes, that looked very good. In fact it went on +looking better and better, straight along--until by-and-by it grew into +positive _proof_. And then Richards put the matter at once out of his +mind, for he had a private instinct that a proof once established is +better left so. + +He was feeling reasonably comfortable now, but there was still one other +detail that kept pushing itself on his notice: of course he had done that +service--that was settled; but what _was_ that service? He must recall +it--he would not go to sleep till he had recalled it; it would make his +peace of mind perfect. And so he thought and thought. He thought of a +dozen things--possible services, even probable services--but none of them +seemed adequate, none of them seemed large enough, none of them seemed +worth the money--worth the fortune Goodson had wished he could leave in +his will. And besides, he couldn't remember having done them, anyway. +Now, then--now, then--what _kind_ of a service would it be that would +make a man so inordinately grateful? Ah--the saving of his soul! That +must be it. Yes, he could remember, now, how he once set himself the +task of converting Goodson, and laboured at it as much as--he was going +to say three months; but upon closer examination it shrunk to a month, +then to a week, then to a day, then to nothing. Yes, he remembered now, +and with unwelcome vividness, that Goodson had told him to go to thunder +and mind his own business--_he_ wasn't hankering to follow Hadleyburg to +heaven! + +So that solution was a failure--he hadn't saved Goodson's soul. Richards +was discouraged. Then after a little came another idea: had he saved +Goodson's property? No, that wouldn't do--he hadn't any. His life? That +is it! Of course. Why, he might have thought of it before. This time +he was on the right track, sure. His imagination-mill was hard at work +in a minute, now. + +Thereafter, during a stretch of two exhausting hours, he was busy saving +Goodson's life. He saved it in all kinds of difficult and perilous ways. +In every case he got it saved satisfactorily up to a certain point; then, +just as he was beginning to get well persuaded that it had really +happened, a troublesome detail would turn up which made the whole thing +impossible. As in the matter of drowning, for instance. In that case he +had swum out and tugged Goodson ashore in an unconscious state with a +great crowd looking on and applauding, but when he had got it all thought +out and was just beginning to remember all about it, a whole swarm of +disqualifying details arrived on the ground: the town would have known of +the circumstance, Mary would have known of it, it would glare like a +limelight in his own memory instead of being an inconspicuous service +which he had possibly rendered "without knowing its full value." And at +this point he remembered that he couldn't swim anyway. + +Ah--_there_ was a point which he had been overlooking from the start: it +had to be a service which he had rendered "possibly without knowing the +full value of it." Why, really, that ought to be an easy hunt--much +easier than those others. And sure enough, by-and-by he found it. +Goodson, years and years ago, came near marrying a very sweet and pretty +girl, named Nancy Hewitt, but in some way or other the match had been +broken off; the girl died, Goodson remained a bachelor, and by-and-by +became a soured one and a frank despiser of the human species. Soon +after the girl's death the village found out, or thought it had found +out, that she carried a spoonful of negro blood in her veins. Richards +worked at these details a good while, and in the end he thought he +remembered things concerning them which must have gotten mislaid in his +memory through long neglect. He seemed to dimly remember that it was +_he_ that found out about the negro blood; that it was he that told the +village; that the village told Goodson where they got it; that he thus +saved Goodson from marrying the tainted girl; that he had done him this +great service "without knowing the full value of it," in fact without +knowing that he _was_ doing it; but that Goodson knew the value of it, +and what a narrow escape he had had, and so went to his grave grateful to +his benefactor and wishing he had a fortune to leave him. It was all +clear and simple, now, and the more he went over it the more luminous and +certain it grew; and at last, when he nestled to sleep, satisfied and +happy, he remembered the whole thing just as if it had been yesterday. In +fact, he dimly remembered Goodson's _telling_ him his gratitude once. +Meantime Mary had spent six thousand dollars on a new house for herself +and a pair of slippers for her pastor, and then had fallen peacefully to +rest. + +That same Saturday evening the postman had delivered a letter to each of +the other principal citizens--nineteen letters in all. No two of the +envelopes were alike, and no two of the superscriptions were in the same +hand, but the letters inside were just like each other in every detail +but one. They were exact copies of the letter received by +Richards--handwriting and all--and were all signed by Stephenson, but in +place of Richards's name each receiver's own name appeared. + +All night long eighteen principal citizens did what their caste-brother +Richards was doing at the same time--they put in their energies trying to +remember what notable service it was that they had unconsciously done +Barclay Goodson. In no case was it a holiday job; still they succeeded. + +And while they were at this work, which was difficult, their wives put in +the night spending the money, which was easy. During that one night the +nineteen wives spent an average of seven thousand dollars each out of the +forty thousand in the sack--a hundred and thirty-three thousand +altogether. + +Next day there was a surprise for Jack Halliday. He noticed that the +faces of the nineteen chief citizens and their wives bore that expression +of peaceful and holy happiness again. He could not understand it, +neither was he able to invent any remarks about it that could damage it +or disturb it. And so it was his turn to be dissatisfied with life. His +private guesses at the reasons for the happiness failed in all instances, +upon examination. When he met Mrs. Wilcox and noticed the placid ecstasy +in her face, he said to himself, "Her cat has had kittens"--and went and +asked the cook; it was not so, the cook had detected the happiness, but +did not know the cause. When Halliday found the duplicate ecstasy in the +face of "Shadbelly" Billson (village nickname), he was sure some +neighbour of Billson's had broken his leg, but inquiry showed that this +had not happened. The subdued ecstasy in Gregory Yates's face could mean +but one thing--he was a mother-in-law short; it was another mistake. "And +Pinkerton--Pinkerton--he has collected ten cents that he thought he was +going to lose." And so on, and so on. In some cases the guesses had to +remain in doubt, in the others they proved distinct errors. In the end +Halliday said to himself, "Anyway it roots up that there's nineteen +Hadleyburg families temporarily in heaven: I don't know how it happened; +I only know Providence is off duty to-day." + +An architect and builder from the next State had lately ventured to set +up a small business in this unpromising village, and his sign had now +been hanging out a week. Not a customer yet; he was a discouraged man, +and sorry he had come. But his weather changed suddenly now. First one +and then another chief citizen's wife said to him privately: + +"Come to my house Monday week--but say nothing about it for the present. +We think of building." + +He got eleven invitations that day. That night he wrote his daughter and +broke off her match with her student. He said she could marry a mile +higher than that. + +Pinkerton the banker and two or three other well-to-do men planned +country-seats--but waited. That kind don't count their chickens until +they are hatched. + +The Wilsons devised a grand new thing--a fancy-dress ball. They made no +actual promises, but told all their acquaintanceship in confidence that +they were thinking the matter over and thought they should give it--"and +if we do, you will be invited, of course." People were surprised, and +said, one to another, "Why, they are crazy, those poor Wilsons, they +can't afford it." Several among the nineteen said privately to their +husbands, "It is a good idea, we will keep still till their cheap thing +is over, then _we_ will give one that will make it sick." + +The days drifted along, and the bill of future squanderings rose higher +and higher, wilder and wilder, more and more foolish and reckless. It +began to look as if every member of the nineteen would not only spend his +whole forty thousand dollars before receiving-day, but be actually in +debt by the time he got the money. In some cases light-headed people did +not stop with planning to spend, they really spent--on credit. They +bought land, mortgages, farms, speculative stocks, fine clothes, horses, +and various other things, paid down the bonus, and made themselves liable +for the rest--at ten days. Presently the sober second thought came, and +Halliday noticed that a ghastly anxiety was beginning to show up in a +good many faces. Again he was puzzled, and didn't know what to make of +it. "The Wilcox kittens aren't dead, for they weren't born; nobody's +broken a leg; there's no shrinkage in mother-in-laws; _nothing_ has +happened--it is an insolvable mystery." + +There was another puzzled man, too--the Rev. Mr. Burgess. For days, +wherever he went, people seemed to follow him or to be watching out for +him; and if he ever found himself in a retired spot, a member of the +nineteen would be sure to appear, thrust an envelope privately into his +hand, whisper "To be opened at the town-hall Friday evening," then vanish +away like a guilty thing. He was expecting that there might be one +claimant for the sack--doubtful, however, Goodson being dead--but it +never occurred to him that all this crowd might be claimants. When the +great Friday came at last, he found that he had nineteen envelopes. + + + + +III. + + +The town-hall had never looked finer. The platform at the end of it was +backed by a showy draping of flags; at intervals along the walls were +festoons of flags; the gallery fronts were clothed in flags; the +supporting columns were swathed in flags; all this was to impress the +stranger, for he would be there in considerable force, and in a large +degree he would be connected with the press. The house was full. The +412 fixed seats were occupied; also the 68 extra chairs which had been +packed into the aisles; the steps of the platform were occupied; some +distinguished strangers were given seats on the platform; at the +horseshoe of tables which fenced the front and sides of the platform sat +a strong force of special correspondents who had come from everywhere. It +was the best-dressed house the town had ever produced. There were some +tolerably expensive toilets there, and in several cases the ladies who +wore them had the look of being unfamiliar with that kind of clothes. At +least the town thought they had that look, but the notion could have +arisen from the town's knowledge of the fact that these ladies had never +inhabited such clothes before. + +The gold-sack stood on a little table at the front of the platform where +all the house could see it. The bulk of the house gazed at it with a +burning interest, a mouth-watering interest, a wistful and pathetic +interest; a minority of nineteen couples gazed at it tenderly, lovingly, +proprietarily, and the male half of this minority kept saying over to +themselves the moving little impromptu speeches of thankfulness for the +audience's applause and congratulations which they were presently going +to get up and deliver. Every now and then one of these got a piece of +paper out of his vest pocket and privately glanced at it to refresh his +memory. + +Of course there was a buzz of conversation going on--there always is; but +at last, when the Rev. Mr. Burgess rose and laid his hand on the sack, he +could hear his microbes gnaw, the place was so still. He related the +curious history of the sack, then went on to speak in warm terms of +Hadleyburg's old and well-earned reputation for spotless honesty, and of +the town's just pride in this reputation. He said that this reputation +was a treasure of priceless value; that under Providence its value had +now become inestimably enhanced, for the recent episode had spread this +fame far and wide, and thus had focussed the eyes of the American world +upon this village, and made its name for all time, as he hoped and +believed, a synonym for commercial incorruptibility. [Applause.] "And +who is to be the guardian of this noble fame--the community as a whole? +No! The responsibility is individual, not communal. From this day forth +each and every one of you is in his own person its special guardian, and +individually responsible that no harm shall come to it. Do you--does +each of you--accept this great trust? [Tumultuous assent.] Then all is +well. Transmit it to your children and to your children's children. To- +day your purity is beyond reproach--see to it that it shall remain so. To- +day there is not a person in your community who could be beguiled to +touch a penny not his own--see to it that you abide in this grace. ["We +will! we will!"] This is not the place to make comparisons between +ourselves and other communities--some of them ungracious towards us; they +have their ways, we have ours; let us be content. [Applause.] I am +done. Under my hand, my friends, rests a stranger's eloquent recognition +of what we are; through him the world will always henceforth know what we +are. We do not know who he is, but in your name I utter your gratitude, +and ask you to raise your voices in indorsement." + +The house rose in a body and made the walls quake with the thunders of +its thankfulness for the space of a long minute. Then it sat down, and +Mr. Burgess took an envelope out of his pocket. The house held its +breath while he slit the envelope open and took from it a slip of paper. +He read its contents--slowly and impressively--the audience listening +with tranced attention to this magic document, each of whose words stood +for an ingot of gold: + +"'The remark which I made to the distressed stranger was this: "You are +very far from being a bad man; go, and reform."'" Then he continued:--"We +shall know in a moment now whether the remark here quoted corresponds +with the one concealed in the sack; and if that shall prove to be so--and +it undoubtedly will--this sack of gold belongs to a fellow-citizen who +will henceforth stand before the nation as the symbol of the special +virtue which has made our town famous throughout the land--Mr. Billson!" + +The house had gotten itself all ready to burst into the proper tornado of +applause; but instead of doing it, it seemed stricken with a paralysis; +there was a deep hush for a moment or two, then a wave of whispered +murmurs swept the place--of about this tenor: "_Billson_! oh, come, this +is _too_ thin! Twenty dollars to a stranger--or _anybody_--_Billson_! +Tell it to the marines!" And now at this point the house caught its +breath all of a sudden in a new access of astonishment, for it discovered +that whereas in one part of the hall Deacon Billson was standing up with +his head weekly bowed, in another part of it Lawyer Wilson was doing the +same. There was a wondering silence now for a while. Everybody was +puzzled, and nineteen couples were surprised and indignant. + +Billson and Wilson turned and stared at each other. Billson asked, +bitingly: + +"Why do _you_ rise, Mr. Wilson?" + +"Because I have a right to. Perhaps you will be good enough to explain +to the house why _you_ rise." + +"With great pleasure. Because I wrote that paper." + +"It is an impudent falsity! I wrote it myself." + +It was Burgess's turn to be paralysed. He stood looking vacantly at +first one of the men and then the other, and did not seem to know what to +do. The house was stupefied. Lawyer Wilson spoke up now, and said: + +"I ask the Chair to read the name signed to that paper." + +That brought the Chair to itself, and it read out the name: + +"John Wharton _Billson_." + +"There!" shouted Billson, "what have you got to say for yourself now? And +what kind of apology are you going to make to me and to this insulted +house for the imposture which you have attempted to play here?" + +"No apologies are due, sir; and as for the rest of it, I publicly charge +you with pilfering my note from Mr. Burgess and substituting a copy of it +signed with your own name. There is no other way by which you could have +gotten hold of the test-remark; I alone, of living men, possessed the +secret of its wording." + +There was likely to be a scandalous state of things if this went on; +everybody noticed with distress that the shorthand scribes were +scribbling like mad; many people were crying "Chair, chair! Order! +order!" Burgess rapped with his gavel, and said: + +"Let us not forget the proprieties due. There has evidently been a +mistake somewhere, but surely that is all. If Mr. Wilson gave me an +envelope--and I remember now that he did--I still have it." + +He took one out of his pocket, opened it, glanced at it, looked surprised +and worried, and stood silent a few moments. Then he waved his hand in a +wandering and mechanical way, and made an effort or two to say something, +then gave it up, despondently. Several voices cried out: + +"Read it! read it! What is it?" + +So he began, in a dazed and sleep-walker fashion: + +"'The remark which I made to the unhappy stranger was this: "You are far +from being a bad man. [The house gazed at him marvelling.] Go, and +reform."' [Murmurs: "Amazing! what can this mean?"] This one," said the +Chair, "is signed Thurlow G. Wilson." + +"There!" cried Wilson, "I reckon that settles it! I knew perfectly well +my note was purloined." + +"Purloined!" retorted Billson. "I'll let you know that neither you nor +any man of your kidney must venture to--" + +The Chair: "Order, gentlemen, order! Take your seats, both of you, +please." + +They obeyed, shaking their heads and grumbling angrily. The house was +profoundly puzzled; it did not know what to do with this curious +emergency. Presently Thompson got up. Thompson was the hatter. He +would have liked to be a Nineteener; but such was not for him; his stock +of hats was not considerable enough for the position. He said: + +"Mr. Chairman, if I may be permitted to make a suggestion, can both of +these gentlemen be right? I put it to you, sir, can both have happened +to say the very same words to the stranger? It seems to me--" + +The tanner got up and interrupted him. The tanner was a disgruntled man; +he believed himself entitled to be a Nineteener, but he couldn't get +recognition. It made him a little unpleasant in his ways and speech. +Said he: + +"Sho, _that's_ not the point! _That_ could happen--twice in a hundred +years--but not the other thing. _Neither_ of them gave the twenty +dollars!" [A ripple of applause.] + +Billson. "I did!" + +Wilson. "I did!" + +Then each accused the other of pilfering. + +The Chair. "Order! Sit down, if you please--both of you. Neither of +the notes has been out of my possession at any moment." + +A Voice. "Good--that settles _that_!" + +The Tanner. "Mr. Chairman, one thing is now plain: one of these men has +been eavesdropping under the other one's bed, and filching family +secrets. If it is not unparliamentary to suggest it, I will remark that +both are equal to it. [The Chair. "Order! order!"] I withdraw the +remark, sir, and will confine myself to suggesting that _if_ one of them +has overheard the other reveal the test-remark to his wife, we shall +catch him now." + +A Voice. "How?" + +The Tanner. "Easily. The two have not quoted the remark in exactly the +same words. You would have noticed that, if there hadn't been a +considerable stretch of time and an exciting quarrel inserted between the +two readings." + +A Voice. "Name the difference." + +The Tanner. "The word _very_ is in Billson's note, and not in the +other." + +Many Voices. "That's so--he's right!" + +The Tanner. "And so, if the Chair will examine the test-remark in the +sack, we shall know which of these two frauds--[The Chair. +"Order!"]--which of these two adventurers--[The Chair. "Order! +order!"]--which of these two gentlemen--[laughter and applause]--is +entitled to wear the belt as being the first dishonest blatherskite ever +bred in this town--which he has dishonoured, and which will be a sultry +place for him from now out!" [Vigorous applause.] + +Many Voices. "Open it!--open the sack!" + +Mr. Burgess made a slit in the sack, slid his hand in, and brought out an +envelope. In it were a couple of folded notes. He said: + +"One of these is marked, 'Not to be examined until all written +communications which have been addressed to the Chair--if any--shall have +been read.' The other is marked '_The Test_.' Allow me. It is +worded--to wit: + +"'I do not require that the first half of the remark which was made to me +by my benefactor shall be quoted with exactness, for it was not striking, +and could be forgotten; but its closing fifteen words are quite striking, +and I think easily rememberable; unless _these_ shall be accurately +reproduced, let the applicant be regarded as an impostor. My benefactor +began by saying he seldom gave advice to anyone, but that it always bore +the hall-mark of high value when he did give it. Then he said this--and +it has never faded from my memory: '_You are far from being a bad +man_--''" + +Fifty Voices. "That settles it--the money's Wilson's! Wilson! Wilson! +Speech! Speech!" + +People jumped up and crowded around Wilson, wringing his hand and +congratulating fervently--meantime the Chair was hammering with the gavel +and shouting: + +"Order, gentlemen! Order! Order! Let me finish reading, please." When +quiet was restored, the reading was resumed--as follows: + +"'_Go, and reform--or, mark my words--some day, for your sins you will +die and go to hell or Hadleyburg_--TRY AND MAKE IT THE FORMER.'" + +A ghastly silence followed. First an angry cloud began to settle darkly +upon the faces of the citizenship; after a pause the cloud began to rise, +and a tickled expression tried to take its place; tried so hard that it +was only kept under with great and painful difficulty; the reporters, the +Brixtonites, and other strangers bent their heads down and shielded their +faces with their hands, and managed to hold in by main strength and +heroic courtesy. At this most inopportune time burst upon the stillness +the roar of a solitary voice--Jack Halliday's: + +"_That's_ got the hall-mark on it!" + +Then the house let go, strangers and all. Even Mr. Burgess's gravity +broke down presently, then the audience considered itself officially +absolved from all restraint, and it made the most of its privilege. It +was a good long laugh, and a tempestuously wholehearted one, but it +ceased at last--long enough for Mr. Burgess to try to resume, and for the +people to get their eyes partially wiped; then it broke out again, and +afterward yet again; then at last Burgess was able to get out these +serious words: + +"It is useless to try to disguise the fact--we find ourselves in the +presence of a matter of grave import. It involves the honour of your +town--it strikes at the town's good name. The difference of a single +word between the test-remarks offered by Mr. Wilson and Mr. Billson was +itself a serious thing, since it indicated that one or the other of these +gentlemen had committed a theft--" + +The two men were sitting limp, nerveless, crushed; but at these words +both were electrified into movement, and started to get up. + +"Sit down!" said the Chair, sharply, and they obeyed. "That, as I have +said, was a serious thing. And it was--but for only one of them. But +the matter has become graver; for the honour of _both_ is now in +formidable peril. Shall I go even further, and say in inextricable +peril? _Both_ left out the crucial fifteen words." He paused. During +several moments he allowed the pervading stillness to gather and deepen +its impressive effects, then added: "There would seem to be but one way +whereby this could happen. I ask these gentlemen--Was there +_collusion_?--_agreement_?" + +A low murmur sifted through the house; its import was, "He's got them +both." + +Billson was not used to emergencies; he sat in a helpless collapse. But +Wilson was a lawyer. He struggled to his feet, pale and worried, and +said: + +"I ask the indulgence of the house while I explain this most painful +matter. I am sorry to say what I am about to say, since it must inflict +irreparable injury upon Mr. Billson, whom I have always esteemed and +respected until now, and in whose invulnerability to temptation I +entirely believed--as did you all. But for the preservation of my own +honour I must speak--and with frankness. I confess with shame--and I now +beseech your pardon for it--that I said to the ruined stranger all of the +words contained in the test-remark, including the disparaging fifteen. +[Sensation.] When the late publication was made I recalled them, and I +resolved to claim the sack of coin, for by every right I was entitled to +it. Now I will ask you to consider this point, and weigh it well; that +stranger's gratitude to me that night knew no bounds; he said himself +that he could find no words for it that were adequate, and that if he +should ever be able he would repay me a thousandfold. Now, then, I ask +you this; could I expect--could I believe--could I even remotely +imagine--that, feeling as he did, he would do so ungrateful a thing as to +add those quite unnecessary fifteen words to his test?--set a trap for +me?--expose me as a slanderer of my own town before my own people +assembled in a public hall? It was preposterous; it was impossible. His +test would contain only the kindly opening clause of my remark. Of that +I had no shadow of doubt. You would have thought as I did. You would +not have expected a base betrayal from one whom you had befriended and +against whom you had committed no offence. And so with perfect +confidence, perfect trust, I wrote on a piece of paper the opening +words--ending with "Go, and reform,"--and signed it. When I was about to +put it in an envelope I was called into my back office, and without +thinking I left the paper lying open on my desk." He stopped, turned his +head slowly toward Billson, waited a moment, then added: "I ask you to +note this; when I returned, a little latter, Mr. Billson was retiring by +my street door." [Sensation.] + +In a moment Billson was on his feet and shouting: + +"It's a lie! It's an infamous lie!" + +The Chair. "Be seated, sir! Mr. Wilson has the floor." + +Billson's friends pulled him into his seat and quieted him, and Wilson +went on: + +"Those are the simple facts. My note was now lying in a different place +on the table from where I had left it. I noticed that, but attached no +importance to it, thinking a draught had blown it there. That Mr. +Billson would read a private paper was a thing which could not occur to +me; he was an honourable man, and he would be above that. If you will +allow me to say it, I think his extra word '_very_' stands explained: it +is attributable to a defect of memory. I was the only man in the world +who could furnish here any detail of the test-mark--by _honourable_ +means. I have finished." + +There is nothing in the world like a persuasive speech to fuddle the +mental apparatus and upset the convictions and debauch the emotions of an +audience not practised in the tricks and delusions of oratory. Wilson +sat down victorious. The house submerged him in tides of approving +applause; friends swarmed to him and shook him by the hand and +congratulated him, and Billson was shouted down and not allowed to say a +word. The Chair hammered and hammered with its gavel, and kept shouting: + +"But let us proceed, gentlemen, let us proceed!" + +At last there was a measurable degree of quiet, and the hatter said: + +"But what is there to proceed with, sir, but to deliver the money?" + +Voices. "That's it! That's it! Come forward, Wilson!" + +The Hatter. "I move three cheers for Mr. Wilson, Symbol of the special +virtue which--" + +The cheers burst forth before he could finish; and in the midst of +them--and in the midst of the clamour of the gavel also--some enthusiasts +mounted Wilson on a big friend's shoulder and were going to fetch him in +triumph to the platform. The Chair's voice now rose above the noise: + +"Order! To your places! You forget that there is still a document to be +read." When quiet had been restored he took up the document, and was +going to read it, but laid it down again saying "I forgot; this is not to +be read until all written communications received by me have first been +read." He took an envelope out of his pocket, removed its enclosure, +glanced at it--seemed astonished--held it out and gazed at it--stared at +it. + +Twenty or thirty voices cried out + +"What is it? Read it! read it!" + +And he did--slowly, and wondering: + +"'The remark which I made to the stranger--[Voices. "Hello! how's +this?"]--was this: 'You are far from being a bad man. [Voices. "Great +Scott!"] Go, and reform.'" [Voice. "Oh, saw my leg off!"] Signed by +Mr. Pinkerton the banker." + +The pandemonium of delight which turned itself loose now was of a sort to +make the judicious weep. Those whose withers were unwrung laughed till +the tears ran down; the reporters, in throes of laughter, set down +disordered pot-hooks which would never in the world be decipherable; and +a sleeping dog jumped up scared out of its wits, and barked itself crazy +at the turmoil. All manner of cries were scattered through the din: +"We're getting rich--_two_ Symbols of Incorruptibility!--without counting +Billson!" "_Three_!--count Shadbelly in--we can't have too many!" "All +right--Billson's elected!" "Alas, poor Wilson! victim of _two_ thieves!" + +A Powerful Voice. "Silence! The Chair's fished up something more out of +its pocket." + +Voices. "Hurrah! Is it something fresh? Read it! read! read!" + +The Chair [reading]. "'The remark which I made,' etc. 'You are far from +being a bad man. Go,' etc. Signed, 'Gregory Yates.'" + +Tornado of Voices. "Four Symbols!" "'Rah for Yates!" "Fish again!" + +The house was in a roaring humour now, and ready to get all the fun out +of the occasion that might be in it. Several Nineteeners, looking pale +and distressed, got up and began to work their way towards the aisles, +but a score of shouts went up: + +"The doors, the doors--close the doors; no Incorruptible shall leave this +place! Sit down, everybody!" The mandate was obeyed. + +"Fish again! Read! read!" + +The Chair fished again, and once more the familiar words began to fall +from its lips--"'You are far from being a bad man--'" + +"Name! name! What's his name?" + +"'L. Ingoldsby Sargent.'" + +"Five elected! Pile up the Symbols! Go on, go on!" + +"'You are far from being a bad--'" + +"Name! name!" + +"'Nicholas Whitworth.'" + +"Hooray! hooray! it's a symbolical day!" + +Somebody wailed in, and began to sing this rhyme (leaving out "it's") to +the lovely "Mikado" tune of "When a man's afraid of a beautiful maid;" +the audience joined in, with joy; then, just in time, somebody +contributed another line-- + + "And don't you this forget--" + +The house roared it out. A third line was at once furnished-- + + "Corruptibles far from Hadleyburg are--" + +The house roared that one too. As the last note died, Jack Halliday's +voice rose high and clear, freighted with a final line-- + + "But the Symbols are here, you bet!" + +That was sung, with booming enthusiasm. Then the happy house started in +at the beginning and sang the four lines through twice, with immense +swing and dash, and finished up with a crashing three-times-three and a +tiger for "Hadleyburg the Incorruptible and all Symbols of it which we +shall find worthy to receive the hall-mark to-night." + +Then the shoutings at the Chair began again, all over the place: + +"Go on! go on! Read! read some more! Read all you've got!" + +"That's it--go on! We are winning eternal celebrity!" + +A dozen men got up now and began to protest. They said that this farce +was the work of some abandoned joker, and was an insult to the whole +community. Without a doubt these signatures were all forgeries-- + +"Sit down! sit down! Shut up! You are confessing. We'll find your +names in the lot." + +"Mr. Chairman, how many of those envelopes have you got?" + +The Chair counted. + +"Together with those that have been already examined, there are +nineteen." + +A storm of derisive applause broke out. + +"Perhaps they all contain the secret. I move that you open them all and +read every signature that is attached to a note of that sort--and read +also the first eight words of the note." + +"Second the motion!" + +It was put and carried--uproariously. Then poor old Richards got up, and +his wife rose and stood at his side. Her head was bent down, so that +none might see that she was crying. Her husband gave her his arm, and so +supporting her, he began to speak in a quavering voice: + +"My friends, you have known us two--Mary and me--all our lives, and I +think you have liked us and respected us--" + +The Chair interrupted him: + +"Allow me. It is quite true--that which you are saying, Mr. Richards; +this town _does_ know you two; it _does_ like you; it _does_ respect you; +more--it honours you and _loves_ you--" + +Halliday's voice rang out: + +"That's the hall-marked truth, too! If the Chair is right, let the house +speak up and say it. Rise! Now, then--hip! hip! hip!--all together!" + +The house rose in mass, faced toward the old couple eagerly, filled the +air with a snow-storm of waving handkerchiefs, and delivered the cheers +with all its affectionate heart. + +The Chair then continued: + +"What I was going to say is this: We know your good heart, Mr. Richards, +but this is not a time for the exercise of charity toward offenders. +[Shouts of "Right! right!"] I see your generous purpose in your face, +but I cannot allow you to plead for these men--" + +"But I was going to--" + +"Please take your seat, Mr. Richards. We must examine the rest of these +notes--simple fairness to the men who have already been exposed requires +this. As soon as that has been done--I give you my word for this--you +shall he heard." + +Many voices. "Right!--the Chair is right--no interruption can be +permitted at this stage! Go on!--the names! the names!--according to the +terms of the motion!" + +The old couple sat reluctantly down, and the husband whispered to the +wife, "It is pitifully hard to have to wait; the shame will be greater +than ever when they find we were only going to plead for _ourselves_." + +Straightway the jollity broke loose again with the reading of the names. + +"'You are far from being a bad man--' Signature, 'Robert J. Titmarsh.'" + +'"You are far from being a bad man--' Signature, 'Eliphalet Weeks.'" + +"'You are far from being a bad man--' Signature, 'Oscar B. Wilder.'" + +At this point the house lit upon the idea of taking the eight words out +of the Chairman's hands. He was not unthankful for that. Thenceforward +he held up each note in its turn and waited. The house droned out the +eight words in a massed and measured and musical deep volume of sound +(with a daringly close resemblance to a well-known church chant)--"You +are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-a-d man." Then the Chair said, "Signature, +'Archibald Wilcox.'" And so on, and so on, name after name, and +everybody had an increasingly and gloriously good time except the +wretched Nineteen. Now and then, when a particularly shining name was +called, the house made the Chair wait while it chanted the whole of the +test-remark from the beginning to the closing words, "And go to hell or +Hadleyburg--try and make it the for-or-m-e-r!" and in these special cases +they added a grand and agonised and imposing "A-a-a-a-_men_!" + +The list dwindled, dwindled, dwindled, poor old Richards keeping tally of +the count, wincing when a name resembling his own was pronounced, and +waiting in miserable suspense for the time to come when it would be his +humiliating privilege to rise with Mary and finish his plea, which he was +intending to word thus: ". . . for until now we have never done any wrong +thing, but have gone our humble way unreproached. We are very poor, we +are old, and, have no chick nor child to help us; we were sorely tempted, +and we fell. It was my purpose when I got up before to make confession +and beg that my name might not be read out in this public place, for it +seemed to us that we could not bear it; but I was prevented. It was +just; it was our place to suffer with the rest. It has been hard for us. +It is the first time we have ever heard our name fall from any one's +lips--sullied. Be merciful--for the sake or the better days; make our +shame as light to bear as in your charity you can." At this point in his +reverie Mary nudged him, perceiving that his mind was absent. The house +was chanting, "You are f-a-r," etc. + +"Be ready," Mary whispered. "Your name comes now; he has read eighteen." + +The chant ended. + +"Next! next! next!" came volleying from all over the house. + +Burgess put his hand into his pocket. The old couple, trembling, began +to rise. Burgess fumbled a moment, then said: + +"I find I have read them all." + +Faint with joy and surprise, the couple sank into their seats, and Mary +whispered: + +"Oh, bless God, we are saved!--he has lost ours--I wouldn't give this for +a hundred of those sacks!" + +The house burst out with its "Mikado" travesty, and sang it three times +with ever-increasing enthusiasm, rising to its feet when it reached for +the third time the closing line-- + + "But the Symbols are here, you bet!" + +and finishing up with cheers and a tiger for "Hadleyburg purity and our +eighteen immortal representatives of it." + +Then Wingate, the saddler, got up and proposed cheers "for the cleanest +man in town, the one solitary important citizen in it who didn't try to +steal that money--Edward Richards." + +They were given with great and moving heartiness; then somebody proposed +that "Richards be elected sole Guardian and Symbol of the now Sacred +Hadleyburg Tradition, with power and right to stand up and look the whole +sarcastic world in the face." + +Passed, by acclamation; then they sang the "Mikado" again, and ended it +with-- + + "And there's _one_ Symbol left, you bet!" + +There was a pause; then-- + +A Voice. "Now, then, who's to get the sack?" + +The Tanner (with bitter sarcasm). "That's easy. The money has to be +divided among the eighteen Incorruptibles. They gave the suffering +stranger twenty dollars apiece--and that remark--each in his turn--it +took twenty-two minutes for the procession to move past. Staked the +stranger--total contribution, $360. All they want is just the loan +back--and interest--forty thousand dollars altogether." + +Many Voices [derisively.] "That's it! Divvy! divvy! Be kind to the +poor--don't keep them waiting!" + +The Chair. "Order! I now offer the stranger's remaining document. It +says: 'If no claimant shall appear [grand chorus of groans], I desire +that you open the sack and count out the money to the principal citizens +of your town, they to take it in trust [Cries of "Oh! Oh! Oh!"], and use +it in such ways as to them shall seem best for the propagation and +preservation of your community's noble reputation for incorruptible +honesty [more cries]--a reputation to which their names and their efforts +will add a new and far-reaching lustre." [Enthusiastic outburst of +sarcastic applause.] That seems to be all. No--here is a postscript: + +"'P.S.--CITIZENS OF HADLEYBURG: There _is_ no test-remark--nobody made +one. [Great sensation.] There wasn't any pauper stranger, nor any +twenty-dollar contribution, nor any accompanying benediction and +compliment--these are all inventions. [General buzz and hum of +astonishment and delight.] Allow me to tell my story--it will take but a +word or two. I passed through your town at a certain time, and received +a deep offence which I had not earned. Any other man would have been +content to kill one or two of you and call it square, but to me that +would have been a trivial revenge, and inadequate; for the dead do not +_suffer_. Besides I could not kill you all--and, anyway, made as I am, +even that would not have satisfied me. I wanted to damage every man in +the place, and every woman--and not in their bodies or in their estate, +but in their vanity--the place where feeble and foolish people are most +vulnerable. So I disguised myself and came back and studied you. You +were easy game. You had an old and lofty reputation for honesty, and +naturally you were proud of it--it was your treasure of treasures, the +very apple of your eye. As soon as I found out that you carefully and +vigilantly kept yourselves and your children _out of temptation_, I knew +how to proceed. Why, you simple creatures, the weakest of all weak +things is a virtue which has not been tested in the fire. I laid a plan, +and gathered a list of names. My project was to corrupt Hadleyburg the +Incorruptible. My idea was to make liars and thieves of nearly half a +hundred smirchless men and women who had never in their lives uttered a +lie or stolen a penny. I was afraid of Goodson. He was neither born nor +reared in Hadleyburg. I was afraid that if I started to operate my +scheme by getting my letter laid before you, you would say to yourselves, +'Goodson is the only man among us who would give away twenty dollars to a +poor devil'--and then you might not bite at my bait. But heaven took +Goodson; then I knew I was safe, and I set my trap and baited it. It may +be that I shall not catch all the men to whom I mailed the pretended test- +secret, but I shall catch the most of them, if I know Hadleyburg nature. +[Voices. "Right--he got every last one of them."] I believe they will +even steal ostensible _gamble_-money, rather than miss, poor, tempted, +and mistrained fellows. I am hoping to eternally and everlastingly +squelch your vanity and give Hadleyburg a new renown--one that will +_stick_--and spread far. If I have succeeded, open the sack and summon +the Committee on Propagation and Preservation of the Hadleyburg +Reputation.'" + +A Cyclone of Voices. "Open it! Open it! The Eighteen to the front! +Committee on Propagation of the Tradition! Forward--the Incorruptibles!" + +The Chair ripped the sack wide, and gathered up a handful of bright, +broad, yellow coins, shook them together, then examined them. + +"Friends, they are only gilded disks of lead!" + +There was a crashing outbreak of delight over this news, and when the +noise had subsided, the tanner called out: + +"By right of apparent seniority in this business, Mr. Wilson is Chairman +of the Committee on Propagation of the Tradition. I suggest that he step +forward on behalf of his pals, and receive in trust the money." + +A Hundred Voices. "Wilson! Wilson! Wilson! Speech! Speech!" + +Wilson [in a voice trembling with anger]. "You will allow me to say, and +without apologies for my language, _damn_ the money!" + +A Voice. "Oh, and him a Baptist!" + +A Voice. "Seventeen Symbols left! Step up, gentlemen, and assume your +trust!" + +There was a pause--no response. + +The Saddler. "Mr. Chairman, we've got _one_ clean man left, anyway, out +of the late aristocracy; and he needs money, and deserves it. I move +that you appoint Jack Halliday to get up there and auction off that sack +of gilt twenty-dollar pieces, and give the result to the right man--the +man whom Hadleyburg delights to honour--Edward Richards." + +This was received with great enthusiasm, the dog taking a hand again; the +saddler started the bids at a dollar, the Brixton folk and Barnum's +representative fought hard for it, the people cheered every jump that the +bids made, the excitement climbed moment by moment higher and higher, the +bidders got on their mettle and grew steadily more and more daring, more +and more determined, the jumps went from a dollar up to five, then to +ten, then to twenty, then fifty, then to a hundred, then-- + +At the beginning of the auction Richards whispered in distress to his +wife: "Oh, Mary, can we allow it? It--it--you see, it is an +honour--reward, a testimonial to purity of character, and--and--can we +allow it? Hadn't I better get up and--Oh, Mary, what ought we to +do?--what do you think we--" [Halliday's voice. "Fifteen I'm +bid!--fifteen for the sack!--twenty!--ah, thanks!--thirty--thanks again! +Thirty, thirty, thirty!--do I hear forty?--forty it is! Keep the ball +rolling, gentlemen, keep it rolling!--fifty!--thanks, noble Roman!--going +at fifty, fifty, fifty!--seventy!--ninety!--splendid!--a hundred!--pile +it up, pile it up!--hundred and twenty--forty!--just in time!--hundred +and fifty!--Two hundred!--superb! Do I hear two h--thanks!--two hundred +and fifty!--"] + +"It is another temptation, Edward--I'm all in a tremble--but, oh, we've +escaped one temptation, and that ought to warn us, to--["Six did I +hear?--thanks!--six fifty, six f--SEVEN hundred!"] And yet, Edward, when +you think--nobody susp--["Eight hundred dollars!--hurrah!--make it +nine!--Mr. Parsons, did I hear you say--thanks!--nine!--this noble sack +of virgin lead going at only nine hundred dollars, gilding and all--come! +do I hear--a thousand!--gratefully yours!--did some one say eleven?--a +sack which is going to be the most celebrated in the whole Uni--"] "Oh, +Edward" (beginning to sob), "we are so poor!--but--but--do as you think +best--do as you think best." + +Edward fell--that is, he sat still; sat with a conscience which was not +satisfied, but which was overpowered by circumstances. + +Meantime a stranger, who looked like an amateur detective gotten up as an +impossible English earl, had been watching the evening's proceedings with +manifest interest, and with a contented expression in his face; and he +had been privately commenting to himself. He was now soliloquising +somewhat like this: "None of the Eighteen are bidding; that is not +satisfactory; I must change that--the dramatic unities require it; they +must buy the sack they tried to steal; they must pay a heavy price, +too--some of them are rich. And another thing, when I make a mistake in +Hadleyburg nature the man that puts that error upon me is entitled to a +high honorarium, and some one must pay. This poor old Richards has +brought my judgment to shame; he is an honest man:--I don't understand +it, but I acknowledge it. Yes, he saw my deuces--_and_ with a straight +flush, and by rights the pot is his. And it shall be a jack-pot, too, if +I can manage it. He disappointed me, but let that pass." + +He was watching the bidding. At a thousand, the market broke: the prices +tumbled swiftly. He waited--and still watched. One competitor dropped +out; then another, and another. He put in a bid or two now. When the +bids had sunk to ten dollars, he added a five; some one raised him a +three; he waited a moment, then flung in a fifty-dollar jump, and the +sack was his--at $1,282. The house broke out in cheers--then stopped; +for he was on his feet, and had lifted his hand. He began to speak. + +"I desire to say a word, and ask a favour. I am a speculator in +rarities, and I have dealings with persons interested in numismatics all +over the world. I can make a profit on this purchase, just as it stands; +but there is a way, if I can get your approval, whereby I can make every +one of these leaden twenty-dollar pieces worth its face in gold, and +perhaps more. Grant me that approval, and I will give part of my gains +to your Mr. Richards, whose invulnerable probity you have so justly and +so cordially recognised to-night; his share shall be ten thousand +dollars, and I will hand him the money to-morrow. [Great applause from +the house. But the "invulnerable probity" made the Richardses blush +prettily; however, it went for modesty, and did no harm.] If you will +pass my proposition by a good majority--I would like a two-thirds vote--I +will regard that as the town's consent, and that is all I ask. Rarities +are always helped by any device which will rouse curiosity and compel +remark. Now if I may have your permission to stamp upon the faces of +each of these ostensible coins the names of the eighteen gentlemen who--" + +Nine-tenths of the audience were on their feet in a moment--dog and +all--and the proposition was carried with a whirlwind of approving +applause and laughter. + +They sat down, and all the Symbols except "Dr." Clay Harkness got up, +violently protesting against the proposed outrage, and threatening to-- + +"I beg you not to threaten me," said the stranger calmly. "I know my +legal rights, and am not accustomed to being frightened at bluster." +[Applause.] He sat down. "Dr." Harkness saw an opportunity here. He +was one of the two very rich men of the place, and Pinkerton was the +other. Harkness was proprietor of a mint; that is to say, a popular +patent medicine. He was running for the Legislature on one ticket, and +Pinkerton on the other. It was a close race and a hot one, and getting +hotter every day. Both had strong appetites for money; each had bought a +great tract of land, with a purpose; there was going to be a new railway, +and each wanted to be in the Legislature and help locate the route to his +own advantage; a single vote might make the decision, and with it two or +three fortunes. The stake was large, and Harkness was a daring +speculator. He was sitting close to the stranger. He leaned over while +one or another of the other Symbols was entertaining the house with +protests and appeals, and asked, in a whisper, + +"What is your price for the sack?" + +"Forty thousand dollars." + +"I'll give you twenty." + +"No." + +"Twenty-five." + +"No." + +"Say thirty." + +"The price is forty thousand dollars; not a penny less." + +"All right, I'll give it. I will come to the hotel at ten in the +morning. I don't want it known; will see you privately." + +"Very good." Then the stranger got up and said to the house: + +"I find it late. The speeches of these gentlemen are not without merit, +not without interest, not without grace; yet if I may he excused I will +take my leave. I thank you for the great favour which you have shown me +in granting my petition. I ask the Chair to keep the sack for me until +to-morrow, and to hand these three five-hundred-dollar notes to Mr. +Richards." They were passed up to the Chair. + +"At nine I will call for the sack, and at eleven will deliver the rest of +the ten thousand to Mr. Richards in person at his home. Good-night." + +Then he slipped out, and left the audience making a vast noise, which was +composed of a mixture of cheers, the "Mikado" song, dog-disapproval, and +the chant, "You are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-d man--a-a-a a-men!" + + + + +IV. + + +At home the Richardses had to endure congratulations and compliments +until midnight. Then they were left to themselves. They looked a little +sad, and they sat silent and thinking. Finally Mary sighed and said: + +"Do you think we are to blame, Edward--_much_ to blame?" and her eyes +wandered to the accusing triplet of big bank-notes lying on the table, +where the congratulators had been gloating over them and reverently +fingering them. Edward did not answer at once; then he brought out a +sigh and said, hesitatingly: + +"We--we couldn't help it, Mary. It--well it was ordered. _All_ things +are." + +Mary glanced up and looked at him steadily, but he didn't return the +look. Presently she said: + +"I thought congratulations and praises always tasted good. But--it seems +to me, now--Edward?" + +"Well?" + +"Are you going to stay in the bank?" + +"N--no." + +"Resign?" + +"In the morning--by note." + +"It does seem best." + +Richards bowed his head in his hands and muttered: + +"Before I was not afraid to let oceans of people's money pour through my +hands, but--Mary, I am so tired, so tired--" + +"We will go to bed." + +At nine in the morning the stranger called for the sack and took it to +the hotel in a cab. At ten Harkness had a talk with him privately. The +stranger asked for and got five cheques on a metropolitan bank--drawn to +"Bearer,"--four for $1,500 each, and one for $34,000. He put one of the +former in his pocket-book, and the remainder, representing $38,500, he +put in an envelope, and with these he added a note which he wrote after +Harkness was gone. At eleven he called at the Richards' house and +knocked. Mrs. Richards peeped through the shutters, then went and +received the envelope, and the stranger disappeared without a word. She +came back flushed and a little unsteady on her legs, and gasped out: + +"I am sure I recognised him! Last night it seemed to me that maybe I had +seen him somewhere before." + +"He is the man that brought the sack here?" + +"I am almost sure of it." + +"Then he is the ostensible Stephenson too, and sold every important +citizen in this town with his bogus secret. Now if he has sent cheques +instead of money, we are sold too, after we thought we had escaped. I +was beginning to feel fairly comfortable once more, after my night's +rest, but the look of that envelope makes me sick. It isn't fat enough; +$8,500 in even the largest bank-notes makes more bulk than that." + +"Edward, why do you object to cheques?" + +"Cheques signed by Stephenson! I am resigned to take the $8,500 if it +could come in bank-notes--for it does seem that it was so ordered, +Mary--but I have never had much courage, and I have not the pluck to try +to market a cheque signed with that disastrous name. It would be a trap. +That man tried to catch me; we escaped somehow or other; and now he is +trying a new way. If it is cheques--" + +"Oh, Edward, it is _too_ bad!" And she held up the cheques and began to +cry. + +"Put them in the fire! quick! we mustn't be tempted. It is a trick to +make the world laugh at _us_, along with the rest, and--Give them to +_me_, since you can't do it!" He snatched them and tried to hold his +grip till he could get to the stove; but he was human, he was a cashier, +and he stopped a moment to make sure of the signature. Then he came near +to fainting. + +"Fan me, Mary, fan me! They are the same as gold!" + +"Oh, how lovely, Edward! Why?" + +"Signed by Harkness. What can the mystery of that be, Mary?" + +"Edward, do you think--" + +"Look here--look at this! Fifteen--fifteen--fifteen--thirty-four. Thirty- +eight thousand five hundred! Mary, the sack isn't worth twelve dollars, +and Harkness--apparently--has paid about par for it." + +"And does it all come to us, do you think--instead of the ten thousand?" + +"Why, it looks like it. And the cheques are made to 'Bearer,' too." + +"Is that good, Edward? What is it for?" + +"A hint to collect them at some distant bank, I reckon. Perhaps Harkness +doesn't want the matter known. What is that--a note?" + +"Yes. It was with the cheques." + +It was in the "Stephenson" handwriting, but there was no signature. It +said: + + "I am a disappointed man. Your honesty is beyond the reach of + temptation. I had a different idea about it, but I wronged you in + that, and I beg pardon, and do it sincerely. I honour you--and that + is sincere too. This town is not worthy to kiss the hem of your + garment. Dear sir, I made a square bet with myself that there were + nineteen debauchable men in your self-righteous community. I have + lost. Take the whole pot, you are entitled to it." + +Richards drew a deep sigh, and said: + +"It seems written with fire--it burns so. Mary--I am miserable again." + +"I, too. Ah, dear, I wish--" + +"To think, Mary--he _believes_ in me." + + +"Oh, don't, Edward--I can't bear it." + +"If those beautiful words were deserved, Mary--and God knows I believed I +deserved them once--I think I could give the forty thousand dollars for +them. And I would put that paper away, as representing more than gold +and jewels, and keep it always. But now--We could not live in the shadow +of its accusing presence, Mary." + +He put it in the fire. + +A messenger arrived and delivered an envelope. Richards took from it a +note and read it; it was from Burgess: + + "You saved me, in a difficult time. I saved you last night. It was + at cost of a lie, but I made the sacrifice freely, and out of a + grateful heart. None in this village knows so well as I know how + brave and good and noble you are. At bottom you cannot respect me, + knowing as you do of that matter of which I am accused, and by the + general voice condemned; but I beg that you will at least believe that + I am a grateful man; it will help me to bear my burden. [Signed] + 'BURGESS.'" + +"Saved, once more. And on such terms!" He put the note in the lire. +"I--I wish I were dead, Mary, I wish I were out of it all!" + +"Oh, these are bitter, bitter days, Edward. The stabs, through their +very generosity, are so deep--and they come so fast!" + +Three days before the election each of two thousand voters suddenly found +himself in possession of a prized memento--one of the renowned bogus +double-eagles. Around one of its faces was stamped these words: "THE +REMARK I MADE TO THE POOR STRANGER WAS--" Around the other face was +stamped these: "GO, AND REFORM. [SIGNED] PINKERTON." Thus the entire +remaining refuse of the renowned joke was emptied upon a single head, and +with calamitous effect. It revived the recent vast laugh and +concentrated it upon Pinkerton; and Harkness's election was a walk-over. + +Within twenty-four hours after the Richardses had received their cheques +their consciences were quieting down, discouraged; the old couple were +learning to reconcile themselves to the sin which they had committed. But +they were to learn, now, that a sin takes on new and real terrors when +there seems a chance that it is going to be found out. This gives it a +fresh and most substantial and important aspect. At church the morning +sermon was of the usual pattern; it was the same old things said in the +same old way; they had heard them a thousand times and found them +innocuous, next to meaningless, and easy to sleep under; but now it was +different: the sermon seemed to bristle with accusations; it seemed aimed +straight and specially at people who were concealing deadly sins. After +church they got away from the mob of congratulators as soon as they +could, and hurried homeward, chilled to the bone at they did not know +what--vague, shadowy, indefinite fears. And by chance they caught a +glimpse of Mr. Burgess as he turned a corner. He paid no attention to +their nod of recognition! He hadn't seen it; but they did not know that. +What could his conduct mean? It might mean--it might--mean--oh, a dozen +dreadful things. Was it possible that he knew that Richards could have +cleared him of guilt in that bygone time, and had been silently waiting +for a chance to even up accounts? At home, in their distress they got to +imagining that their servant might have been in the next room listening +when Richards revealed the secret to his wife that he knew of Burgess's +innocence; next Richards began to imagine that he had heard the swish of +a gown in there at that time; next, he was sure he _had_ heard it. They +would call Sarah in, on a pretext, and watch her face; if she had been +betraying them to Mr. Burgess, it would show in her manner. They asked +her some questions--questions which were so random and incoherent and +seemingly purposeless that the girl felt sure that the old people's minds +had been affected by their sudden good fortune; the sharp and watchful +gaze which they bent upon her frightened her, and that completed the +business. She blushed, she became nervous and confused, and to the old +people these were plain signs of guilt--guilt of some fearful sort or +other--without doubt she was a spy and a traitor. When they were alone +again they began to piece many unrelated things together and get horrible +results out of the combination. When things had got about to the worst +Richards was delivered of a sudden gasp and his wife asked: + +"Oh, what is it?--what is it?" + +"The note--Burgess's note! Its language was sarcastic, I see it now." He +quoted: "'At bottom you cannot respect me, _knowing_, as you do, of _that +matter of_ which I am accused'--oh, it is perfectly plain, now, God help +me! He knows that I know! You see the ingenuity of the phrasing. It +was a trap--and like a fool, I walked into it. And Mary--!" + +"Oh, it is dreadful--I know what you are going to say--he didn't return +your transcript of the pretended test-remark." + +"No--kept it to destroy us with. Mary, he has exposed us to some +already. I know it--I know it well. I saw it in a dozen faces after +church. Ah, he wouldn't answer our nod of recognition--he knew what he +had been doing!" + +In the night the doctor was called. The news went around in the morning +that the old couple were rather seriously ill--prostrated by the +exhausting excitement growing out of their great windfall, the +congratulations, and the late hours, the doctor said. The town was +sincerely distressed; for these old people were about all it had left to +be proud of, now. + +Two days later the news was worse. The old couple were delirious, and +were doing strange things. By witness of the nurses, Richards had +exhibited cheques--for $8,500? No--for an amazing sum--$38,500! What +could be the explanation of this gigantic piece of luck? + +The following day the nurses had more news--and wonderful. They had +concluded to hide the cheques, lest harm come to them; but when they +searched they were gone from under the patient's pillow--vanished away. +The patient said: + +"Let the pillow alone; what do you want?" + +"We thought it best that the cheques--" + +"You will never see them again--they are destroyed. They came from +Satan. I saw the hell-brand on them, and I knew they were sent to betray +me to sin." Then he fell to gabbling strange and dreadful things which +were not clearly understandable, and which the doctor admonished them to +keep to themselves. + +Richards was right; the cheques were never seen again. + +A nurse must have talked in her sleep, for within two days the forbidden +gabblings were the property of the town; and they were of a surprising +sort. They seemed to indicate that Richards had been a claimant for the +sack himself, and that Burgess had concealed that fact and then +maliciously betrayed it. + +Burgess was taxed with this and stoutly denied it. And he said it was +not fair to attach weight to the chatter of a sick old man who was out of +his mind. Still, suspicion was in the air, and there was much talk. + +After a day or two it was reported that Mrs. Richards's delirious +deliveries were getting to be duplicates of her husband's. Suspicion +flamed up into conviction, now, and the town's pride in the purity of its +one undiscredited important citizen began to dim down and flicker toward +extinction. + +Six days passed, then came more news. The old couple were dying. +Richards's mind cleared in his latest hour, and he sent for Burgess. +Burgess said: + +"Let the room be cleared. I think he wishes to say something in +privacy." + +"No!" said Richards; "I want witnesses. I want you all to hear my +confession, so that I may die a man, and not a dog. I was +clean--artificially--like the rest; and like the rest I fell when +temptation came. I signed a lie, and claimed the miserable sack. Mr. +Burgess remembered that I had done him a service, and in gratitude (and +ignorance) he suppressed my claim and saved me. You know the thing that +was charged against Burgess years ago. My testimony, and mine alone, +could have cleared him, and I was a coward and left him to suffer +disgrace--" + +"No--no--Mr. Richards, you--" + +"My servant betrayed my secret to him--" + +"No one has betrayed anything to me--" + +--"And then he did a natural and justifiable thing; he repented of the +saving kindness which he had done me, and he _exposed_ me--as I +deserved--" + +"Never!--I make oath--" + +"Out of my heart I forgive him." + +Burgess's impassioned protestations fell upon deaf ears; the dying man +passed away without knowing that once more he had done poor Burgess a +wrong. The old wife died that night. + +The last of the sacred Nineteen had fallen a prey to the fiendish sack; +the town was stripped of the last rag of its ancient glory. Its mourning +was not showy, but it was deep. + +By act of the Legislature--upon prayer and petition--Hadleyburg was +allowed to change its name to (never mind what--I will not give it away), +and leave one word out of the motto that for many generations had graced +the town's official seal. + +It is an honest town once more, and the man will have to rise early that +catches it napping again. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN THAT CORRUPTED HADLEYBURG*** + + +******* This file should be named 1213.txt or 1213.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/2/1/1213 + + + +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. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: +https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. 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: + + https://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/old/old/1213.zip b/old/old/1213.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7e0e326 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/1213.zip diff --git a/old/old/hdlyb10.txt b/old/old/hdlyb10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4453d03 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/hdlyb10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2450 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg +#13 in our series by Mark Twain + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. We need your donations. + + +The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg + +by Mark Twain + +February, 1998 [Etext #1213] + + +The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg +******This file should be named hdlyb10.txt or hdlyb10.zip****** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, hdlyb11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, hdlyb10a.txt + + +This etext was prepared from the 1907 Chatto & Windus edition +by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + +Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions, +all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a +copyright notice is included. Therefore, we do NOT keep these books +in compliance with any particular paper edition, usually otherwise. + + +We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance +of the official release dates, for time for better editing. + +Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an +up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes +in the first week of the next month. Since our ftp program has +a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a +look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a +new copy has at least one byte more or less. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +fifty hours is one conservative estimate for how long it we take +to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour this year as we release thirty-two text +files per month, or 384 more Etexts in 1998 for a total of 1500+ +If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the +total should reach over 150 billion Etexts given away. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext +Files by the December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000=Trillion] +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only 10% of the present number of computer users. 2001 +should have at least twice as many computer users as that, so it +will require us reaching less than 5% of the users in 2001. + + +We need your donations more than ever! + + +All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/CMU": and are +tax deductible to the extent allowable by law. (CMU = Carnegie- +Mellon University). + +For these and other matters, please mail to: + +Project Gutenberg +P. O. Box 2782 +Champaign, IL 61825 + +When all other email fails try our Executive Director: +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +We would prefer to send you this information by email +(Internet, Bitnet, Compuserve, ATTMAIL or MCImail). + +****** +If you have an FTP program (or emulator), please +FTP directly to the Project Gutenberg archives: +[Mac users, do NOT point and click. . .type] + +ftp uiarchive.cso.uiuc.edu +login: anonymous +password: your@login +cd etext/etext90 through /etext96 +or cd etext/articles [get suggest gut for more information] +dir [to see files] +get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files] +GET INDEX?00.GUT +for a list of books +and +GET NEW GUT for general information +and +MGET GUT* for newsletters. + +**Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor** +(Three Pages) + + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG- +tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor +Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association at +Carnegie-Mellon University (the "Project"). Among other +things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext +under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this +etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors, +officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost +and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or +indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause: +[1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification, +or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word pro- + cessing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the etext (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the + net profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association/Carnegie-Mellon + University" within the 60 days following each + date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) + your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association / Carnegie-Mellon University". + +*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +Prepared by +by David Price ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + +The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg + + + + +It was many years ago. Hadleyburg was the most honest and upright +town in all the region round about. It had kept that reputation +unsmirched during three generations, and was prouder of it than of +any other of its possessions. It was so proud of it, and so anxious +to insure its perpetuation, that it began to teach the principles of +honest dealing to its babies in the cradle, and made the like +teachings the staple of their culture thenceforward through all the +years devoted to their education. Also, throughout the formative +years temptations were kept out of the way of the young people, so +that their honesty could have every chance to harden and solidify, +and become a part of their very bone. The neighbouring towns were +jealous of this honourable supremacy, and affected to sneer at +Hadleyburg's pride in it and call it vanity; but all the same they +were obliged to acknowledge that Hadleyburg was in reality an +incorruptible town; and if pressed they would also acknowledge that +the mere fact that a young man hailed from Hadleyburg was all the +recommendation he needed when he went forth from his natal town to +seek for responsible employment. + +But at last, in the drift of time, Hadleyburg had the ill luck to +offend a passing stranger--possibly without knowing it, certainly +without caring, for Hadleyburg was sufficient unto itself, and cared +not a rap for strangers or their opinions. Still, it would have +been well to make an exception in this one's case, for he was a +bitter man, and revengeful. All through his wanderings during a +whole year he kept his injury in mind, and gave all his leisure +moments to trying to invent a compensating satisfaction for it. He +contrived many plans, and all of them were good, but none of them +was quite sweeping enough: the poorest of them would hurt a great +many individuals, but what he wanted was a plan which would +comprehend the entire town, and not let so much as one person escape +unhurt. At last he had a fortunate idea, and when it fell into his +brain it lit up his whole head with an evil joy. He began to form a +plan at once, saying to himself "That is the thing to do--I will +corrupt the town." + +Six months later he went to Hadleyburg, and arrived in a buggy at +the house of the old cashier of the bank about ten at night. He got +a sack out of the buggy, shouldered it, and staggered with it +through the cottage yard, and knocked at the door. A woman's voice +said "Come in," and he entered, and set his sack behind the stove in +the parlour, saying politely to the old lady who sat reading the +"Missionary Herald" by the lamp: + +"Pray keep your seat, madam, I will not disturb you. There--now it +is pretty well concealed; one would hardly know it was there. Can I +see your husband a moment, madam?" + +No, he was gone to Brixton, and might not return before morning. + +"Very well, madam, it is no matter. I merely wanted to leave that +sack in his care, to be delivered to the rightful owner when he +shall be found. I am a stranger; he does not know me; I am merely +passing through the town to-night to discharge a matter which has +been long in my mind. My errand is now completed, and I go pleased +and a little proud, and you will never see me again. There is a +paper attached to the sack which will explain everything. Good- +night, madam." + +The old lady was afraid of the mysterious big stranger, and was glad +to see him go. But her curiosity was roused, and she went straight +to the sack and brought away the paper. It began as follows: + + +"TO BE PUBLISHED, or, the right man sought out by private inquiry-- +either will answer. This sack contains gold coin weighing a hundred +and sixty pounds four ounces--" + + +"Mercy on us, and the door not locked!" + +Mrs. Richards flew to it all in a tremble and locked it, then pulled +down the window-shades and stood frightened, worried, and wondering +if there was anything else she could do toward making herself and +the money more safe. She listened awhile for burglars, then +surrendered to curiosity, and went back to the lamp and finished +reading the paper: + + +"I am a foreigner, and am presently going back to my own country, to +remain there permanently. I am grateful to America for what I have +received at her hands during my long stay under her flag; and to one +of her citizens--a citizen of Hadleyburg--I am especially grateful +for a great kindness done me a year or two ago. Two great +kindnesses in fact. I will explain. I was a gambler. I say I WAS. +I was a ruined gambler. I arrived in this village at night, hungry +and without a penny. I asked for help--in the dark; I was ashamed +to beg in the light. I begged of the right man. He gave me twenty +dollars--that is to say, he gave me life, as I considered it. He +also gave me fortune; for out of that money I have made myself rich +at the gaming-table. And finally, a remark which he made to me has +remained with me to this day, and has at last conquered me; and in +conquering has saved the remnant of my morals: I shall gamble no +more. Now I have no idea who that man was, but I want him found, +and I want him to have this money, to give away, throw away, or +keep, as he pleases. It is merely my way of testifying my gratitude +to him. If I could stay, I would find him myself; but no matter, he +will be found. This is an honest town, an incorruptible town, and I +know I can trust it without fear. This man can be identified by the +remark which he made to me; I feel persuaded that he will remember +it. + +"And now my plan is this: If you prefer to conduct the inquiry +privately, do so. Tell the contents of this present writing to any +one who is likely to be the right man. If he shall answer, 'I am +the man; the remark I made was so-and-so,' apply the test--to wit: +open the sack, and in it you will find a sealed envelope containing +that remark. If the remark mentioned by the candidate tallies with +it, give him the money, and ask no further questions, for he is +certainly the right man. + +"But if you shall prefer a public inquiry, then publish this present +writing in the local paper--with these instructions added, to wit: +Thirty days from now, let the candidate appear at the town-hall at +eight in the evening (Friday), and hand his remark, in a sealed +envelope, to the Rev. Mr. Burgess (if he will be kind enough to +act); and let Mr. Burgess there and then destroy the seals of the +sack, open it, and see if the remark is correct: if correct, let +the money be delivered, with my sincere gratitude, to my benefactor +thus identified." + + +Mrs. Richards sat down, gently quivering with excitement, and was +soon lost in thinkings--after this pattern: "What a strange thing +it is! . . . And what a fortune for that kind man who set his bread +afloat upon the waters! . . . If it had only been my husband that +did it!--for we are so poor, so old and poor! . . ." Then, with a +sigh--"But it was not my Edward; no, it was not he that gave a +stranger twenty dollars. It is a pity too; I see it now. . . " +Then, with a shudder--"But it is GAMBLERS' money! the wages of sin; +we couldn't take it; we couldn't touch it. I don't like to be near +it; it seems a defilement." She moved to a farther chair. . . "I +wish Edward would come, and take it to the bank; a burglar might +come at any moment; it is dreadful to be here all alone with it." + +At eleven Mr. Richards arrived, and while his wife was saying "I am +SO glad you've come!" he was saying, "I am so tired--tired clear +out; it is dreadful to be poor, and have to make these dismal +journeys at my time of life. Always at the grind, grind, grind, on +a salary--another man's slave, and he sitting at home in his +slippers, rich and comfortable." + +"I am so sorry for you, Edward, you know that; but be comforted; we +have our livelihood; we have our good name--" + +"Yes, Mary, and that is everything. Don't mind my talk--it's just a +moment's irritation and doesn't mean anything. Kiss me--there, it's +all gone now, and I am not complaining any more. What have you been +getting? What's in the sack?" + +Then his wife told him the great secret. It dazed him for a moment; +then he said: + +"It weighs a hundred and sixty pounds? Why, Mary, it's for-ty thou- +sand dollars--think of it--a whole fortune! Not ten men in this +village are worth that much. Give me the paper." + +He skimmed through it and said: + +"Isn't it an adventure! Why, it's a romance; it's like the +impossible things one reads about in books, and never sees in life." +He was well stirred up now; cheerful, even gleeful. He tapped his +old wife on the cheek, and said humorously, "Why, we're rich, Mary, +rich; all we've got to do is to bury the money and burn the papers. +If the gambler ever comes to inquire, we'll merely look coldly upon +him and say: 'What is this nonsense you are talking? We have never +heard of you and your sack of gold before;' and then he would look +foolish, and--" + +"And in the meantime, while you are running on with your jokes, the +money is still here, and it is fast getting along toward burglar- +time." + +"True. Very well, what shall we do--make the inquiry private? No, +not that; it would spoil the romance. The public method is better. +Think what a noise it will make! And it will make all the other +towns jealous; for no stranger would trust such a thing to any town +but Hadleyburg, and they know it. It's a great card for us. I must +get to the printing-office now, or I shall be too late." + +"But stop--stop--don't leave me here alone with it, Edward!" + +But he was gone. For only a little while, however. Not far from +his own house he met the editor--proprietor of the paper, and gave +him the document, and said "Here is a good thing for you, Cox--put +it in." + +"It may be too late, Mr. Richards, but I'll see." + +At home again, he and his wife sat down to talk the charming mystery +over; they were in no condition for sleep. The first question was, +Who could the citizen have been who gave the stranger the twenty +dollars? It seemed a simple one; both answered it in the same +breath - + +"Barclay Goodson." + +"Yes," said Richards, "he could have done it, and it would have been +like him, but there's not another in the town." + +"Everybody will grant that, Edward--grant it privately, anyway. For +six months, now, the village has been its own proper self once more- +-honest, narrow, self-righteous, and stingy." + +"It is what he always called it, to the day of his death--said it +right out publicly, too." + +"Yes, and he was hated for it." + +"Oh, of course; but he didn't care. I reckon he was the best-hated +man among us, except the Reverend Burgess." + +"Well, Burgess deserves it--he will never get another congregation +here. Mean as the town is, it knows how to estimate HIM. Edward, +doesn't it seem odd that the stranger should appoint Burgess to +deliver the money?" + +"Well, yes--it does. That is--that is--" + +"Why so much that-IS-ing? Would YOU select him?" + +"Mary, maybe the stranger knows him better than this village does." + +"Much THAT would help Burgess!" + +The husband seemed perplexed for an answer; the wife kept a steady +eye upon him, and waited. Finally Richards said, with the hesitancy +of one who is making a statement which is likely to encounter doubt, + +"Mary, Burgess is not a bad man." + +His wife was certainly surprised. + +"Nonsense!" she exclaimed. + +"He is not a bad man. I know. The whole of his unpopularity had +its foundation in that one thing--the thing that made so much +noise." + +"That 'one thing,' indeed! As if that 'one thing' wasn't enough, +all by itself." + +"Plenty. Plenty. Only he wasn't guilty of it." + +"How you talk! Not guilty of it! Everybody knows he WAS guilty." + +"Mary, I give you my word--he was innocent." + +"I can't believe it and I don't. How do you know?" + +"It is a confession. I am ashamed, but I will make it. I was the +only man who knew he was innocent. I could have saved him, and-- +and--well, you know how the town was wrought up--I hadn't the pluck +to do it. It would have turned everybody against me. I felt mean, +ever so mean; ut I didn't dare; I hadn't the manliness to face +that." + +Mary looked troubled, and for a while was silent. Then she said +stammeringly: + +"I--I don't think it would have done for you to--to--One mustn't-- +er--public opinion--one has to be so careful --so--" It was a +difficult road, and she got mired; but after a little she got +started again. "It was a great pity, but-- Why, we couldn't afford +it, Edward--we couldn't indeed. Oh, I wouldn't have had you do it +for anything!" + +"It would have lost us the good-will of so many people, Mary; and +then--and then--" + +"What troubles me now is, what HE thinks of us, Edward." + +"He? HE doesn't suspect that I could have saved him." + +"Oh," exclaimed the wife, in a tone of relief, "I am glad of that. +As long as he doesn't know that you could have saved him, he--he-- +well that makes it a great deal better. Why, I might have known he +didn't know, because he is always trying to be friendly with us, as +little encouragement as we give him. More than once people have +twitted me with it. There's the Wilsons, and the Wilcoxes, and the +Harknesses, they take a mean pleasure in saying 'YOUR FRIEND +Burgess,' because they know it pesters me. I wish he wouldn't +persist in liking us so; I can't think why he keeps it up." + +"I can explain it. It's another confession. When the thing was new +and hot, and the town made a plan to ride him on a rail, my +conscience hurt me so that I couldn't stand it, and I went privately +and gave him notice, and he got out of the town and stayed out till +it was safe to come back." + +"Edward! If the town had found it out--" + +"DON'T! It scares me yet, to think of it. I repented of it the +minute it was done; and I was even afraid to tell you lest your face +might betray it to somebody. I didn't sleep any that night, for +worrying. But after a few days I saw that no one was going to +suspect me, and after that I got to feeling glad I did it. And I +feel glad yet, Mary--glad through and through." + +"So do I, now, for it would have been a dreadful way to treat him. +Yes, I'm glad; for really you did owe him that, you know. But, +Edward, suppose it should come out yet, some day!" + +"It won't." + +"Why?" + +"Because everybody thinks it was Goodson." + +"Of course they would!" + +"Certainly. And of course HE didn't care. They persuaded poor old +Sawlsberry to go and charge it on him, and he went blustering over +there and did it. Goodson looked him over, like as if he was +hunting for a place on him that he could despise the most; then he +says, 'So you are the Committee of Inquiry, are you?' Sawlsberry +said that was about what he was. 'H'm. Do they require +particulars, or do you reckon a kind of a GENERAL answer will do?' +'If they require particulars, I will come back, Mr. Goodson; I will +take the general answer first.' 'Very well, then, tell them to go +to hell--I reckon that's general enough. And I'll give you some +advice, Sawlsberry; when you come back for the particulars, fetch a +basket to carry what is left of yourself home in.'" + +"Just like Goodson; it's got all the marks. He had only one vanity; +he thought he could give advice better than any other person." + +"It settled the business, and saved us, Mary. The subject was +dropped." + +"Bless you, I'm not doubting THAT." + +Then they took up the gold-sack mystery again, with strong interest. +Soon the conversation began to suffer breaks--interruptions caused +by absorbed thinkings. The breaks grew more and more frequent. At +last Richards lost himself wholly in thought. He sat long, gazing +vacantly at the floor, and by-and-by he began to punctuate his +thoughts with little nervous movements of his hands that seemed to +indicate vexation. Meantime his wife too had relapsed into a +thoughtful silence, and her movements were beginning to show a +troubled discomfort. Finally Richards got up and strode aimlessly +about the room, ploughing his hands through his hair, much as a +somnambulist might do who was having a bad dream. Then he seemed to +arrive at a definite purpose; and without a word he put on his hat +and passed quickly out of the house. His wife sat brooding, with a +drawn face, and did not seem to be aware that she was alone. Now +and then she murmured, "Lead us not into t . . . but--but--we are so +poor, so poor! . . . Lead us not into . . . Ah, who would be hurt by +it?--and no one would ever know . . . Lead us . . . " The voice +died out in mumblings. After a little she glanced up and muttered +in a half-frightened, half-glad way - + +"He is gone! But, oh dear, he may be too late--too late . . . Maybe +not--maybe there is still time." She rose and stood thinking, +nervously clasping and unclasping her hands. A slight shudder shook +her frame, and she said, out of a dry throat, "God forgive me--it's +awful to think such things--but . . . Lord, how we are made--how +strangely we are made!" + +She turned the light low, and slipped stealthily over and knelt down +by the sack and felt of its ridgy sides with her hands, and fondled +them lovingly; and there was a gloating light in her poor old eyes. +She fell into fits of absence; and came half out of them at times to +mutter "If we had only waited!--oh, if we had only waited a little, +and not been in such a hurry!" + +Meantime Cox had gone home from his office and told his wife all +about the strange thing that had happened, and they had talked it +over eagerly, and guessed that the late Goodson was the only man in +the town who could have helped a suffering stranger with so noble a +sum as twenty dollars. Then there was a pause, and the two became +thoughtful and silent. And by-and-by nervous and fidgety. At last +the wife said, as if to herself, + +"Nobody knows this secret but the Richardses . . . and us . . . +nobody." + +The husband came out of his thinkings with a slight start, and gazed +wistfully at his wife, whose face was become very pale; then he +hesitatingly rose, and glanced furtively at his hat, then at his +wife--a sort of mute inquiry. Mrs. Cox swallowed once or twice, +with her hand at her throat, then in place of speech she nodded her +head. In a moment she was alone, and mumbling to herself. + +And now Richards and Cox were hurrying through the deserted streets, +from opposite directions. They met, panting, at the foot of the +printing-office stairs; by the night-light there they read each +other's face. Cox whispered: + +"Nobody knows about this but us?" + +The whispered answer was: + +"Not a soul--on honour, not a soul!" + +"If it isn't too late to--" + +The men were starting up-stairs; at this moment they were overtaken +by a boy, and Cox asked, + +"Is that you, Johnny?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You needn't ship the early mail--nor ANY mail; wait till I tell +you." + +"It's already gone, sir." + +"GONE?" It had the sound of an unspeakable disappointment in it. + +"Yes, sir. Time-table for Brixton and all the towns beyond changed +to-day, sir--had to get the papers in twenty minutes earlier than +common. I had to rush; if I had been two minutes later--" + +The men turned and walked slowly away, not waiting to hear the rest. +Neither of them spoke during ten minutes; then Cox said, in a vexed +tone, + +"What possessed you to be in such a hurry, I can't make out." + +The answer was humble enough: + +"I see it now, but somehow I never thought, you know, until it was +too late. But the next time--" + +"Next time be hanged! It won't come in a thousand years." + +Then the friends separated without a good-night, and dragged +themselves home with the gait of mortally stricken men. At their +homes their wives sprang up with an eager "Well?"--then saw the +answer with their eyes and sank down sorrowing, without waiting for +it to come in words. In both houses a discussion followed of a +heated sort--a new thing; there had been discussions before, but not +heated ones, not ungentle ones. The discussions to-night were a +sort of seeming plagiarisms of each other. Mrs. Richards said: + +"If you had only waited, Edward--if you had only stopped to think; +but no, you must run straight to the printing-office and spread it +all over the world." + +"It SAID publish it." + +"That is nothing; it also said do it privately, if you liked. +There, now--is that true, or not?" + +"Why, yes--yes, it is true; but when I thought what a stir it would +make, and what a compliment it was to Hadleyburg that a stranger +should trust it so--" + +"Oh, certainly, I know all that; but if you had only stopped to +think, you would have seen that you COULDN'T find the right man, +because he is in his grave, and hasn't left chick nor child nor +relation behind him; and as long as the money went to somebody that +awfully needed it, and nobody would be hurt by it, and--and--" + +She broke down, crying. Her husband tried to think of some +comforting thing to say, and presently came out with this: + +"But after all, Mary, it must be for the best--it must be; we know +that. And we must remember that it was so ordered--" + +"Ordered! Oh, everything's ORDERED, when a person has to find some +way out when he has been stupid. Just the same, it was ORDERED that +the money should come to us in this special way, and it was you that +must take it on yourself to go meddling with the designs of +Providence--and who gave you the right? It was wicked, that is what +it was--just blasphemous presumption, and no more becoming to a meek +and humble professor of--" + +"But, Mary, you know how we have been trained all our lives long, +like the whole village, till it is absolutely second nature to us to +stop not a single moment to think when there's an honest thing to be +done--" + +"Oh, I know it, I know it--it's been one everlasting training and +training and training in honesty--honesty shielded, from the very +cradle, against every possible temptation, and so it's ARTIFICIAL +honesty, and weak as water when temptation comes, as we have seen +this night. God knows I never had shade nor shadow of a doubt of my +petrified and indestructible honesty until now--and now, under the +very first big and real temptation, I--Edward, it is my belief that +this town's honesty is as rotten as mine is; as rotten as yours. It +is a mean town, a hard, stingy town, and hasn't a virtue in the +world but this honesty it is so celebrated for and so conceited +about; and so help me, I do believe that if ever the day comes that +its honesty falls under great temptation, its grand reputation will +go to ruin like a house of cards. There, now, I've made confession, +and I feel better; I am a humbug, and I've been one all my life, +without knowing it. Let no man call me honest again--I will not +have it." + +"I-- Well, Mary, I feel a good deal as you do: I certainly do. It +seems strange, too, so strange. I never could have believed it-- +never." + +A long silence followed; both were sunk in thought. At last the +wife looked up and said: + +"I know what you are thinking, Edward." + +Richards had the embarrassed look of a person who is caught. + +"I am ashamed to confess it, Mary, but--" + +"It's no matter, Edward, I was thinking the same question myself." + +"I hope so. State it." + +"You were thinking, if a body could only guess out WHAT THE REMARK +WAS that Goodson made to the stranger." + +"It's perfectly true. I feel guilty and ashamed. And you?" + +"I'm past it. Let us make a pallet here; we've got to stand watch +till the bank vault opens in the morning and admits the sack. . . Oh +dear, oh dear--if we hadn't made the mistake!" + +The pallet was made, and Mary said: + +"The open sesame--what could it have been? I do wonder what that +remark could have been. But come; we will get to bed now." + +"And sleep?" + +"No; think." + +"Yes; think." + +By this time the Coxes too had completed their spat and their +reconciliation, and were turning in--to think, to think, and toss, +and fret, and worry over what the remark could possibly have been +which Goodson made to the stranded derelict; that golden remark; +that remark worth forty thousand dollars, cash. + +The reason that the village telegraph-office was open later than +usual that night was this: The foreman of Cox's paper was the local +representative of the Associated Press. One might say its honorary +representative, for it wasn't four times a year that he could +furnish thirty words that would be accepted. But this time it was +different. His despatch stating what he had caught got an instant +answer: + + +"Send the whole thing--all the details--twelve hundred words." + + +A colossal order! The foreman filled the bill; and he was the +proudest man in the State. By breakfast-time the next morning the +name of Hadleyburg the Incorruptible was on every lip in America, +from Montreal to the Gulf, from the glaciers of Alaska to the +orange-groves of Florida; and millions and millions of people were +discussing the stranger and his money-sack, and wondering if the +right man would be found, and hoping some more news about the matter +would come soon--right away. + + +II + + +Hadleyburg village woke up world-celebrated--astonished--happy-- +vain. Vain beyond imagination. Its nineteen principal citizens and +their wives went about shaking hands with each other, and beaming, +and smiling, and congratulating, and saying THIS thing adds a new +word to the dictionary--HADLEYBURG, synonym for INCORRUPTIBLE-- +destined to live in dictionaries for ever! And the minor and +unimportant citizens and their wives went around acting in much the +same way. Everybody ran to the bank to see the gold-sack; and +before noon grieved and envious crowds began to flock in from +Brixton and all neighbouring towns; and that afternoon and next day +reporters began to arrive from everywhere to verify the sack and its +history and write the whole thing up anew, and make dashing free- +hand pictures of the sack, and of Richards's house, and the bank, +and the Presbyterian church, and the Baptist church, and the public +square, and the town-hall where the test would be applied and the +money delivered; and damnable portraits of the Richardses, and +Pinkerton the banker, and Cox, and the foreman, and Reverend +Burgess, and the postmaster--and even of Jack Halliday, who was the +loafing, good-natured, no-account, irreverent fisherman, hunter, +boys' friend, stray-dogs' friend, typical "Sam Lawson" of the town. +The little mean, smirking, oily Pinkerton showed the sack to all +comers, and rubbed his sleek palms together pleasantly, and enlarged +upon the town's fine old reputation for honesty and upon this +wonderful endorsement of it, and hoped and believed that the example +would now spread far and wide over the American world, and be epoch- +making in the matter of moral regeneration. And so on, and so on. + +By the end of a week things had quieted down again; the wild +intoxication of pride and joy had sobered to a soft, sweet, silent +delight--a sort of deep, nameless, unutterable content. All faces +bore a look of peaceful, holy happiness. + +Then a change came. It was a gradual change; so gradual that its +beginnings were hardly noticed; maybe were not noticed at all, +except by Jack Halliday, who always noticed everything; and always +made fun of it, too, no matter what it was. He began to throw out +chaffing remarks about people not looking quite so happy as they did +a day or two ago; and next he claimed that the new aspect was +deepening to positive sadness; next, that it was taking on a sick +look; and finally he said that everybody was become so moody, +thoughtful, and absent-minded that he could rob the meanest man in +town of a cent out of the bottom of his breeches pocket and not +disturb his reverie. + +At this stage--or at about this stage--a saying like this was +dropped at bedtime--with a sigh, usually--by the head of each of the +nineteen principal households: + +"Ah, what COULD have been the remark that Goodson made?" + +And straightway--with a shudder--came this, from the man's wife: + +"Oh, DON'T! What horrible thing are you mulling in your mind? Put +it away from you, for God's sake!" + +But that question was wrung from those men again the next night--and +got the same retort. But weaker. + +And the third night the men uttered the question yet again--with +anguish, and absently. This time--and the following night--the +wives fidgeted feebly, and tried to say something. But didn't. + +And the night after that they found their tongues and responded-- +longingly: + +"Oh, if we COULD only guess!" + +Halliday's comments grew daily more and more sparklingly +disagreeable and disparaging. He went diligently about, laughing at +the town, individually and in mass. But his laugh was the only one +left in the village: it fell upon a hollow and mournful vacancy and +emptiness. Not even a smile was findable anywhere. Halliday +carried a cigar-box around on a tripod, playing that it was a +camera, and halted all passers and aimed the thing and said "Ready! +--now look pleasant, please," but not even this capital joke could +surprise the dreary faces into any softening. + +So three weeks passed--one week was left. It was Saturday evening +after supper. Instead of the aforetime Saturday-evening flutter and +bustle and shopping and larking, the streets were empty and +desolate. Richards and his old wife sat apart in their little +parlour--miserable and thinking. This was become their evening +habit now: the life-long habit which had preceded it, of reading, +knitting, and contented chat, or receiving or paying neighbourly +calls, was dead and gone and forgotten, ages ago--two or three weeks +ago; nobody talked now, nobody read, nobody visited--the whole +village sat at home, sighing, worrying, silent. Trying to guess out +that remark. + +The postman left a letter. Richards glanced listlessly at the +superscription and the post-mark--unfamiliar, both--and tossed the +letter on the table and resumed his might-have-beens and his +hopeless dull miseries where he had left them off. Two or three +hours later his wife got wearily up and was going away to bed +without a good-night--custom now--but she stopped near the letter +and eyed it awhile with a dead interest, then broke it open, and +began to skim it over. Richards, sitting there with his chair +tilted back against the wall and his chin between his knees, heard +something fall. It was his wife. He sprang to her side, but she +cried out: + +"Leave me alone, I am too happy. Read the letter--read it!" + +He did. He devoured it, his brain reeling. The letter was from a +distant State, and it said: + + +"I am a stranger to you, but no matter: I have something to tell. +I have just arrived home from Mexico, and learned about that +episode. Of course you do not know who made that remark, but I +know, and I am the only person living who does know. It was +GOODSON. I knew him well, many years ago. I passed through your +village that very night, and was his guest till the midnight train +came along. I overheard him make that remark to the stranger in the +dark--it was in Hale Alley. He and I talked of it the rest of the +way home, and while smoking in his house. He mentioned many of your +villagers in the course of his talk--most of them in a very +uncomplimentary way, but two or three favourably: among these +latter yourself. I say 'favourably'--nothing stronger. I remember +his saying he did not actually LIKE any person in the town--not one; +but that you--I THINK he said you--am almost sure--had done him a +very great service once, possibly without knowing the full value of +it, and he wished he had a fortune, he would leave it to you when he +died, and a curse apiece for the rest of the citizens. Now, then, +if it was you that did him that service, you are his legitimate +heir, and entitled to the sack of gold. I know that I can trust to +your honour and honesty, for in a citizen of Hadleyburg these +virtues are an unfailing inheritance, and so I am going to reveal to +you the remark, well satisfied that if you are not the right man you +will seek and find the right one and see that poor Goodson's debt of +gratitude for the service referred to is paid. This is the remark +'YOU ARE FAR FROM BEING A BAD MAN: GO, AND REFORM.' + +"HOWARD L. STEPHENSON." + + +"Oh, Edward, the money is ours, and I am so grateful, OH, so +grateful,--kiss me, dear, it's for ever since we kissed--and we +needed it so--the money--and now you are free of Pinkerton and his +bank, and nobody's slave any more; it seems to me I could fly for +joy." + +It was a happy half-hour that the couple spent there on the settee +caressing each other; it was the old days come again--days that had +begun with their courtship and lasted without a break till the +stranger brought the deadly money. By-and-by the wife said: + +"Oh, Edward, how lucky it was you did him that grand service, poor +Goodson! I never liked him, but I love him now. And it was fine +and beautiful of you never to mention it or brag about it." Then, +with a touch of reproach, "But you ought to have told ME, Edward, +you ought to have told your wife, you know." + +"Well, I--er--well, Mary, you see--" + +"Now stop hemming and hawing, and tell me about it, Edward. I +always loved you, and now I'm proud of you. Everybody believes +there was only one good generous soul in this village, and now it +turns out that you-- Edward, why don't you tell me?" + +"Well--er--er--Why, Mary, I can't!" + +"You CAN'T? WHY can't you?" + +"You see, he--well, he--he made me promise I wouldn't." + +The wife looked him over, and said, very slowly: + +"Made--you--promise? Edward, what do you tell me that for?" + +"Mary, do you think I would lie?" + +She was troubled and silent for a moment, then she laid her hand +within his and said: + +"No . . . no. We have wandered far enough from our bearings--God +spare us that! In all your life you have never uttered a lie. But +now--now that the foundations of things seem to be crumbling from +under us, we--we--" She lost her voice for a moment, then said, +brokenly, "Lead us not into temptation. . . I think you made the +promise, Edward. Let it rest so. Let us keep away from that +ground. Now--that is all gone by; let us he happy again; it is no +time for clouds." + +Edward found it something of an effort to comply, for his mind kept +wandering--trying to remember what the service was that he had done +Goodson. + +The couple lay awake the most of the night, Mary happy and busy, +Edward busy, but not so happy. Mary was planning what she would do +with the money. Edward was trying to recall that service. At first +his conscience was sore on account of the lie he had told Mary--if +it was a lie. After much reflection--suppose it WAS a lie? What +then? Was it such a great matter? Aren't we always ACTING lies? +Then why not tell them? Look at Mary--look what she had done. +While he was hurrying off on his honest errand, what was she doing? +Lamenting because the papers hadn't been destroyed and the money +kept. Is theft better than lying? + +THAT point lost its sting--the lie dropped into the background and +left comfort behind it. The next point came to the front: HAD he +rendered that service? Well, here was Goodson's own evidence as +reported in Stephenson's letter; there could be no better evidence +than that--it was even PROOF that he had rendered it. Of course. +So that point was settled. . . No, not quite. He recalled with a +wince that this unknown Mr. Stephenson was just a trifle unsure as +to whether the performer of it was Richards or some other--and, oh +dear, he had put Richards on his honour! He must himself decide +whither that money must go--and Mr. Stephenson was not doubting that +if he was the wrong man he would go honourably and find the right +one. Oh, it was odious to put a man in such a situation--ah, why +couldn't Stephenson have left out that doubt? What did he want to +intrude that for? + +Further reflection. How did it happen that RICHARDS'S name remained +in Stephenson's mind as indicating the right man, and not some other +man's name? That looked good. Yes, that looked very good. In fact +it went on looking better and better, straight along--until by-and- +by it grew into positive PROOF. And then Richards put the matter at +once out of his mind, for he had a private instinct that a proof +once established is better left so. + +He was feeling reasonably comfortable now, but there was still one +other detail that kept pushing itself on his notice: of course he +had done that service--that was settled; but what WAS that service? +He must recall it--he would not go to sleep till he had recalled it; +it would make his peace of mind perfect. And so he thought and +thought. He thought of a dozen things--possible services, even +probable services--but none of them seemed adequate, none of them +seemed large enough, none of them seemed worth the money--worth the +fortune Goodson had wished he could leave in his will. And besides, +he couldn't remember having done them, anyway. Now, then--now, +then--what KIND of a service would it be that would make a man so +inordinately grateful? Ah--the saving of his soul! That must be +it. Yes, he could remember, now, how he once set himself the task +of converting Goodson, and laboured at it as much as--he was going +to say three months; but upon closer examination it shrunk to a +month, then to a week, then to a day, then to nothing. Yes, he +remembered now, and with unwelcome vividness, that Goodson had told +him to go to thunder and mind his own business--HE wasn't hankering +to follow Hadleyburg to heaven! + +So that solution was a failure--he hadn't saved Goodson's soul. +Richards was discouraged. Then after a little came another idea: +had he saved Goodson's property? No, that wouldn't do--he hadn't +any. His life? That is it! Of course. Why, he might have thought +of it before. This time he was on the right track, sure. His +imagination-mill was hard at work in a minute, now. + +Thereafter, during a stretch of two exhausting hours, he was busy +saving Goodson's life. He saved it in all kinds of difficult and +perilous ways. In every case he got it saved satisfactorily up to a +certain point; then, just as he was beginning to get well persuaded +that it had really happened, a troublesome detail would turn up +which made the whole thing impossible. As in the matter of +drowning, for instance. In that case he had swum out and tugged +Goodson ashore in an unconscious state with a great crowd looking on +and applauding, but when he had got it all thought out and was just +beginning to remember all about it, a whole swarm of disqualifying +details arrived on the ground: the town would have known of the +circumstance, Mary would have known of it, it would glare like a +limelight in his own memory instead of being an inconspicuous +service which he had possibly rendered "without knowing its full +value." And at this point he remembered that he couldn't swim +anyway. + +Ah--THERE was a point which he had been overlooking from the start: +it had to be a service which he had rendered "possibly without +knowing the full value of it." Why, really, that ought to be an +easy hunt--much easier than those others. And sure enough, by-and- +by he found it. Goodson, years and years ago, came near marrying a +very sweet and pretty girl, named Nancy Hewitt, but in some way or +other the match had been broken off; the girl died, Goodson remained +a bachelor, and by-and-by became a soured one and a frank despiser +of the human species. Soon after the girl's death the village found +out, or thought it had found out, that she carried a spoonful of +negro blood in her veins. Richards worked at these details a good +while, and in the end he thought he remembered things concerning +them which must have gotten mislaid in his memory through long +neglect. He seemed to dimly remember that it was HE that found out +about the negro blood; that it was he that told the village; that +the village told Goodson where they got it; that he thus saved +Goodson from marrying the tainted girl; that he had done him this +great service "without knowing the full value of it," in fact +without knowing that he WAS doing it; but that Goodson knew the +value of it, and what a narrow escape he had had, and so went to his +grave grateful to his benefactor and wishing he had a fortune to +leave him. It was all clear and simple, now, and the more he went +over it the more luminous and certain it grew; and at last, when he +nestled to sleep, satisfied and happy, he remembered the whole thing +just as if it had been yesterday. In fact, he dimly remembered +Goodson's TELLING him his gratitude once. Meantime Mary had spent +six thousand dollars on a new house for herself and a pair of +slippers for her pastor, and then had fallen peacefully to rest. + +That same Saturday evening the postman had delivered a letter to +each of the other principal citizens--nineteen letters in all. No +two of the envelopes were alike, and no two of the superscriptions +were in the same hand, but the letters inside were just like each +other in every detail but one. They were exact copies of the letter +received by Richards--handwriting and all--and were all signed by +Stephenson, but in place of Richards's name each receiver's own name +appeared. + +All night long eighteen principal citizens did what their caste- +brother Richards was doing at the same time--they put in their +energies trying to remember what notable service it was that they +had unconsciously done Barclay Goodson. In no case was it a holiday +job; still they succeeded. + +And while they were at this work, which was difficult, their wives +put in the night spending the money, which was easy. During that +one night the nineteen wives spent an average of seven thousand +dollars each out of the forty thousand in the sack--a hundred and +thirty-three thousand altogether. + +Next day there was a surprise for Jack Halliday. He noticed that +the faces of the nineteen chief citizens and their wives bore that +expression of peaceful and holy happiness again. He could not +understand it, neither was he able to invent any remarks about it +that could damage it or disturb it. And so it was his turn to be +dissatisfied with life. His private guesses at the reasons for the +happiness failed in all instances, upon examination. When he met +Mrs. Wilcox and noticed the placid ecstasy in her face, he said to +himself, "Her cat has had kittens"--and went and asked the cook; it +was not so, the cook had detected the happiness, but did not know +the cause. When Halliday found the duplicate ecstasy in the face of +"Shadbelly" Billson (village nickname), he was sure some neighbour +of Billson's had broken his leg, but inquiry showed that this had +not happened. The subdued ecstasy in Gregory Yates's face could +mean but one thing--he was a mother-in-law short; it was another +mistake. "And Pinkerton--Pinkerton--he has collected ten cents that +he thought he was going to lose." And so on, and so on. In some +cases the guesses had to remain in doubt, in the others they proved +distinct errors. In the end Halliday said to himself, "Anyway it +roots up that there's nineteen Hadleyburg families temporarily in +heaven: I don't know how it happened; I only know Providence is off +duty to-day." + +An architect and builder from the next State had lately ventured to +set up a small business in this unpromising village, and his sign +had now been hanging out a week. Not a customer yet; he was a +discouraged man, and sorry he had come. But his weather changed +suddenly now. First one and then another chief citizen's wife said +to him privately: + +"Come to my house Monday week--but say nothing about it for the +present. We think of building." + +He got eleven invitations that day. That night he wrote his +daughter and broke off her match with her student. He said she +could marry a mile higher than that. + +Pinkerton the banker and two or three other well-to-do men planned +country-seats--but waited. That kind don't count their chickens +until they are hatched. + +The Wilsons devised a grand new thing--a fancy-dress ball. They +made no actual promises, but told all their acquaintanceship in +confidence that they were thinking the matter over and thought they +should give it--"and if we do, you will be invited, of course." +People were surprised, and said, one to another, "Why, they are +crazy, those poor Wilsons, they can't afford it." Several among the +nineteen said privately to their husbands, "It is a good idea, we +will keep still till their cheap thing is over, then WE will give +one that will make it sick." + +The days drifted along, and the bill of future squanderings rose +higher and higher, wilder and wilder, more and more foolish and +reckless. It began to look as if every member of the nineteen would +not only spend his whole forty thousand dollars before receiving- +day, but be actually in debt by the time he got the money. In some +cases light-headed people did not stop with planning to spend, they +really spent--on credit. They bought land, mortgages, farms, +speculative stocks, fine clothes, horses, and various other things, +paid down the bonus, and made themselves liable for the rest--at ten +days. Presently the sober second thought came, and Halliday noticed +that a ghastly anxiety was beginning to show up in a good many +faces. Again he was puzzled, and didn't know what to make of it. +"The Wilcox kittens aren't dead, for they weren't born; nobody's +broken a leg; there's no shrinkage in mother-in-laws; NOTHING has +happened--it is an insolvable mystery." + +There was another puzzled man, too--the Rev. Mr. Burgess. For days, +wherever he went, people seemed to follow him or to be watching out +for him; and if he ever found himself in a retired spot, a member of +the nineteen would be sure to appear, thrust an envelope privately +into his hand, whisper "To be opened at the town-hall Friday +evening," then vanish away like a guilty thing. He was expecting +that there might be one claimant for the sack--doubtful, however, +Goodson being dead--but it never occurred to him that all this crowd +might be claimants. When the great Friday came at last, he found +that he had nineteen envelopes. + + +III + + +The town-hall had never looked finer. The platform at the end of it +was backed by a showy draping of flags; at intervals along the walls +were festoons of flags; the gallery fronts were clothed in flags; +the supporting columns were swathed in flags; all this was to +impress the stranger, for he would be there in considerable force, +and in a large degree he would be connected with the press. The +house was full. The 412 fixed seats were occupied; also the 68 +extra chairs which had been packed into the aisles; the steps of the +platform were occupied; some distinguished strangers were given +seats on the platform; at the horseshoe of tables which fenced the +front and sides of the platform sat a strong force of special +correspondents who had come from everywhere. It was the best- +dressed house the town had ever produced. There were some tolerably +expensive toilets there, and in several cases the ladies who wore +them had the look of being unfamiliar with that kind of clothes. At +least the town thought they had that look, but the notion could have +arisen from the town's knowledge of the fact that these ladies had +never inhabited such clothes before. + +The gold-sack stood on a little table at the front of the platform +where all the house could see it. The bulk of the house gazed at it +with a burning interest, a mouth-watering interest, a wistful and +pathetic interest; a minority of nineteen couples gazed at it +tenderly, lovingly, proprietarily, and the male half of this +minority kept saying over to themselves the moving little impromptu +speeches of thankfulness for the audience's applause and +congratulations which they were presently going to get up and +deliver. Every now and then one of these got a piece of paper out +of his vest pocket and privately glanced at it to refresh his +memory. + +Of course there was a buzz of conversation going on--there always +is; but at last, when the Rev. Mr. Burgess rose and laid his hand on +the sack, he could hear his microbes gnaw, the place was so still. +He related the curious history of the sack, then went on to speak in +warm terms of Hadleyburg's old and well-earned reputation for +spotless honesty, and of the town's just pride in this reputation. +He said that this reputation was a treasure of priceless value; that +under Providence its value had now become inestimably enhanced, for +the recent episode had spread this fame far and wide, and thus had +focussed the eyes of the American world upon this village, and made +its name for all time, as he hoped and believed, a synonym for +commercial incorruptibility. [Applause.] "And who is to be the +guardian of this noble fame--the community as a whole? No! The +responsibility is individual, not communal. From this day forth +each and every one of you is in his own person its special guardian, +and individually responsible that no harm shall come to it. Do you- +-does each of you--accept this great trust? [Tumultuous assent.] +Then all is well. Transmit it to your children and to your +children's children. To-day your purity is beyond reproach--see to +it that it shall remain so. To-day there is not a person in your +community who could be beguiled to touch a penny not his own--see to +it that you abide in this grace. ["We will! we will!"] This is not +the place to make comparisons between ourselves and other +communities--some of them ungracious towards us; they have their +ways, we have ours; let us be content. [Applause.] I am done. +Under my hand, my friends, rests a stranger's eloquent recognition +of what we are; through him the world will always henceforth know +what we are. We do not know who he is, but in your name I utter +your gratitude, and ask you to raise your voices in indorsement." + +The house rose in a body and made the walls quake with the thunders +of its thankfulness for the space of a long minute. Then it sat +down, and Mr. Burgess took an envelope out of his pocket. The house +held its breath while he slit the envelope open and took from it a +slip of paper. He read its contents--slowly and impressively--the +audience listening with tranced attention to this magic document, +each of whose words stood for an ingot of gold: + +"'The remark which I made to the distressed stranger was this: "You +are very far from being a bad man; go, and reform."'" Then he +continued:- "We shall know in a moment now whether the remark here +quoted corresponds with the one concealed in the sack; and if that +shall prove to be so--and it undoubtedly will--this sack of gold +belongs to a fellow-citizen who will henceforth stand before the +nation as the symbol of the special virtue which has made our town +famous throughout the land--Mr. Billson!" + +The house had gotten itself all ready to burst into the proper +tornado of applause; but instead of doing it, it seemed stricken +with a paralysis; there was a deep hush for a moment or two, then a +wave of whispered murmurs swept the place--of about this tenor: +"BILLSON! oh, come, this is TOO thin! Twenty dollars to a stranger- +-or ANYBODY--BILLSON! Tell it to the marines!" And now at this +point the house caught its breath all of a sudden in a new access of +astonishment, for it discovered that whereas in one part of the hall +Deacon Billson was standing up with his head weekly bowed, in +another part of it Lawyer Wilson was doing the same. There was a +wondering silence now for a while. Everybody was puzzled, and +nineteen couples were surprised and indignant. + +Billson and Wilson turned and stared at each other. Billson asked, +bitingly: + +"Why do YOU rise, Mr. Wilson?" + +"Because I have a right to. Perhaps you will be good enough to +explain to the house why YOU rise." + +"With great pleasure. Because I wrote that paper." + +"It is an impudent falsity! I wrote it myself." + +It was Burgess's turn to be paralysed. He stood looking vacantly at +first one of the men and then the other, and did not seem to know +what to do. The house was stupefied. Lawyer Wilson spoke up now, +and said: + +"I ask the Chair to read the name signed to that paper." + +That brought the Chair to itself, and it read out the name: + +"John Wharton BILLSON." + +"There!" shouted Billson, "what have you got to say for yourself +now? And what kind of apology are you going to make to me and to +this insulted house for the imposture which you have attempted to +play here?" + +"No apologies are due, sir; and as for the rest of it, I publicly +charge you with pilfering my note from Mr. Burgess and substituting +a copy of it signed with your own name. There is no other way by +which you could have gotten hold of the test-remark; I alone, of +living men, possessed the secret of its wording." + +There was likely to be a scandalous state of things if this went on; +everybody noticed with distress that the shorthand scribes were +scribbling like mad; many people were crying "Chair, chair! Order! +order!" Burgess rapped with his gavel, and said: + +"Let us not forget the proprieties due. There has evidently been a +mistake somewhere, but surely that is all. If Mr. Wilson gave me an +envelope--and I remember now that he did--I still have it." + +He took one out of his pocket, opened it, glanced at it, looked +surprised and worried, and stood silent a few moments. Then he +waved his hand in a wandering and mechanical way, and made an effort +or two to say something, then gave it up, despondently. Several +voices cried out: + +"Read it! read it! What is it?" + +So he began, in a dazed and sleep-walker fashion: + +"'The remark which I made to the unhappy stranger was this: "You +are far from being a bad man. [The house gazed at him marvelling.] +Go, and reform."' [Murmurs: "Amazing! what can this mean?"] This +one," said the Chair, "is signed Thurlow G. Wilson." + +"There!" cried Wilson, "I reckon that settles it! I knew perfectly +well my note was purloined." + +"Purloined!" retorted Billson. "I'll let you know that neither you +nor any man of your kidney must venture to--" + +The Chair: "Order, gentlemen, order! Take your seats, both of you, +please." + +They obeyed, shaking their heads and grumbling angrily. The house +was profoundly puzzled; it did not know what to do with this curious +emergency. Presently Thompson got up. Thompson was the hatter. He +would have liked to be a Nineteener; but such was not for him; his +stock of hats was not considerable enough for the position. He +said: + +"Mr. Chairman, if I may be permitted to make a suggestion, can both +of these gentlemen be right? I put it to you, sir, can both have +happened to say the very same words to the stranger? It seems to +me--" + +The tanner got up and interrupted him. The tanner was a disgruntled +man; he believed himself entitled to be a Nineteener, but he +couldn't get recognition. It made him a little unpleasant in his +ways and speech. Said he: + +"Sho, THAT'S not the point! THAT could happen--twice in a hundred +years--but not the other thing. NEITHER of them gave the twenty +dollars!" [A ripple of applause.] + +Billson. "I did!" + +Wilson. "I did!" + +Then each accused the other of pilfering. + +The Chair. "Order! Sit down, if you please--both of you. Neither +of the notes has been out of my possession at any moment." + +A Voice. "Good--that settles THAT!" + +The Tanner. "Mr. Chairman, one thing is now plain: one of these +men has been eavesdropping under the other one's bed, and filching +family secrets. If it is not unparliamentary to suggest it, I will +remark that both are equal to it. [The Chair. "Order! order!"] I +withdraw the remark, sir, and will confine myself to suggesting that +IF one of them has overheard the other reveal the test-remark to his +wife, we shall catch him now." + +A Voice. "How?" + +The Tanner. "Easily. The two have not quoted the remark in exactly +the same words. You would have noticed that, if there hadn't been a +considerable stretch of time and an exciting quarrel inserted +between the two readings." + +A Voice. "Name the difference." + +The Tanner. "The word VERY is in Billson's note, and not in the +other." + +Many Voices. "That's so--he's right!" + + The Tanner. "And so, if the Chair will examine the test-remark in +the sack, we shall know which of these two frauds--[The Chair. +"Order!"]--which of these two adventurers--[The Chair. "Order! +order!"]--which of these two gentlemen--[laughter and applause]--is +entitled to wear the belt as being the first dishonest blatherskite +ever bred in this town--which he has dishonoured, and which will be +a sultry place for him from now out!" [Vigorous applause.] + +Many Voices. "Open it!--open the sack!" + +Mr. Burgess made a slit in the sack, slid his hand in, and brought +out an envelope. In it were a couple of folded notes. He said: + +"One of these is marked, 'Not to be examined until all written +communications which have been addressed to the Chair--if any--shall +have been read.' The other is marked 'THE TEST.' Allow me. It is +worded--to wit: + +"'I do not require that the first half of the remark which was made +to me by my benefactor shall be quoted with exactness, for it was +not striking, and could be forgotten; but its closing fifteen words +are quite striking, and I think easily rememberable; unless THESE +shall be accurately reproduced, let the applicant be regarded as an +impostor. My benefactor began by saying he seldom gave advice to +anyone, but that it always bore the hallmark of high value when he +did give it. Then he said this--and it has never faded from my +memory: 'YOU ARE FAR FROM BEING A BAD MAN- ''" + +Fifty Voices. "That settles it--the money's Wilson's! Wilson! +Wilson! Speech! Speech!" + +People jumped up and crowded around Wilson, wringing his hand and +congratulating fervently--meantime the Chair was hammering with the +gavel and shouting: + +"Order, gentlemen! Order! Order! Let me finish reading, please." +When quiet was restored, the reading was resumed--as follows: + +"'GO, AND REFORM--OR, MARK MY WORDS--SOME DAY, FOR YOUR SINS YOU +WILL DIE AND GO TO HELL OR HADLEYBURG--TRY AND MAKE IT THE FORMER.'" + +A ghastly silence followed. First an angry cloud began to settle +darkly upon the faces of the citizenship; after a pause the cloud +began to rise, and a tickled expression tried to take its place; +tried so hard that it was only kept under with great and painful +difficulty; the reporters, the Brixtonites, and other strangers bent +their heads down and shielded their faces with their hands, and +managed to hold in by main strength and heroic courtesy. At this +most inopportune time burst upon the stillness the roar of a +solitary voice--Jack Halliday's: + +"THAT'S got the hall-mark on it!" + +Then the house let go, strangers and all. Even Mr. Burgess's +gravity broke down presently, then the audience considered itself +officially absolved from all restraint, and it made the most of its +privilege. It was a good long laugh, and a tempestuously +wholehearted one, but it ceased at last--long enough for Mr. Burgess +to try to resume, and for the people to get their eyes partially +wiped; then it broke out again, and afterward yet again; then at +last Burgess was able to get out these serious words: + +"It is useless to try to disguise the fact--we find ourselves in the +presence of a matter of grave import. It involves the honour of +your town--it strikes at the town's good name. The difference of a +single word between the test-remarks offered by Mr. Wilson and Mr. +Billson was itself a serious thing, since it indicated that one or +the other of these gentlemen had committed a theft--" + +The two men were sitting limp, nerveless, crushed; but at these +words both were electrified into movement, and started to get up. + +"Sit down!" said the Chair, sharply, and they obeyed. "That, as I +have said, was a serious thing. And it was--but for only one of +them. But the matter has become graver; for the honour of BOTH is +now in formidable peril. Shall I go even further, and say in +inextricable peril? BOTH left out the crucial fifteen words." He +paused. During several moments he allowed the pervading stillness +to gather and deepen its impressive effects, then added: "There +would seem to be but one way whereby this could happen. I ask these +gentlemen--Was there COLLUSION?--AGREEMENT?" + +A low murmur sifted through the house; its import was, "He's got +them both." + +Billson was not used to emergencies; he sat in a helpless collapse. +But Wilson was a lawyer. He struggled to his feet, pale and +worried, and said: + +"I ask the indulgence of the house while I explain this most painful +matter. I am sorry to say what I am about to say, since it must +inflict irreparable injury upon Mr. Billson, whom I have always +esteemed and respected until now, and in whose invulnerability to +temptation I entirely believed--as did you all. But for the +preservation of my own honour I must speak--and with frankness. I +confess with shame--and I now beseech your pardon for it--that I +said to the ruined stranger all of the words contained in the test- +remark, including the disparaging fifteen. [Sensation.] When the +late publication was made I recalled them, and I resolved to claim +the sack of coin, for by every right I was entitled to it. Now I +will ask you to consider this point, and weigh it well; that +stranger's gratitude to me that night knew no bounds; he said +himself that he could find no words for it that were adequate, and +that if he should ever be able he would repay me a thousandfold. +Now, then, I ask you this; could I expect--could I believe--could I +even remotely imagine--that, feeling as he did, he would do so +ungrateful a thing as to add those quite unnecessary fifteen words +to his test?--set a trap for me?--expose me as a slanderer of my own +town before my own people assembled in a public hall? It was +preposterous; it was impossible. His test would contain only the +kindly opening clause of my remark. Of that I had no shadow of +doubt. You would have thought as I did. You would not have +expected a base betrayal from one whom you had befriended and +against whom you had committed no offence. And so with perfect +confidence, perfect trust, I wrote on a piece of paper the opening +words--ending with "Go, and reform," --and signed it. When I was +about to put it in an envelope I was called into my back office, and +without thinking I left the paper lying open on my desk." He +stopped, turned his head slowly toward Billson, waited a moment, +then added: "I ask you to note this; when I returned, a little +latter, Mr. Billson was retiring by my street door." [Sensation.] + +In a moment Billson was on his feet and shouting: + +"It's a lie! It's an infamous lie!" + +The Chair. "Be seated, sir! Mr. Wilson has the floor." + +Billson's friends pulled him into his seat and quieted him, and +Wilson went on: + +"Those are the simple facts. My note was now lying in a different +place on the table from where I had left it. I noticed that, but +attached no importance to it, thinking a draught had blown it there. +That Mr. Billson would read a private paper was a thing which could +not occur to me; he was an honourable man, and he would be above +that. If you will allow me to say it, I think his extra word 'VERY' +stands explained: it is attributable to a defect of memory. I was +the only man in the world who could furnish here any detail of the +test-mark--by HONOURABLE means. I have finished." + +There is nothing in the world like a persuasive speech to fuddle the +mental apparatus and upset the convictions and debauch the emotions +of an audience not practised in the tricks and delusions of oratory. +Wilson sat down victorious. The house submerged him in tides of +approving applause; friends swarmed to him and shook him by the hand +and congratulated him, and Billson was shouted down and not allowed +to say a word. The Chair hammered and hammered with its gavel, and +kept shouting: + +"But let us proceed, gentlemen, let us proceed!" + +At last there was a measurable degree of quiet, and the hatter said: + +"But what is there to proceed with, sir, but to deliver the money?" + +Voices. "That's it! That's it! Come forward, Wilson!" + +The Hatter. "I move three cheers for Mr. Wilson, Symbol of the +special virtue which--" + +The cheers burst forth before he could finish; and in the midst of +them--and in the midst of the clamour of the gavel also--some +enthusiasts mounted Wilson on a big friend's shoulder and were going +to fetch him in triumph to the platform. The Chair's voice now rose +above the noise: + +"Order! To your places! You forget that there is still a document +to be read." When quiet had been restored he took up the document, +and was going to read it, but laid it down again saying "I forgot; +this is not to be read until all written communications received by +me have first been read." He took an envelope out of his pocket, +removed its enclosure, glanced at it--seemed astonished--held it out +and gazed at it--stared at it. + +Twenty or thirty voices cried out + +"What is it? Read it! read it!" + +And he did--slowly, and wondering: + +"'The remark which I made to the stranger--[Voices. "Hello! how's +this?"]--was this: 'You are far from being a bad man. [Voices. +"Great Scott!"] Go, and reform.'" [Voice. "Oh, saw my leg off!"] +Signed by Mr. Pinkerton the banker." + +The pandemonium of delight which turned itself loose now was of a +sort to make the judicious weep. Those whose withers were unwrung +laughed till the tears ran down; the reporters, in throes of +laughter, set down disordered pot-hooks which would never in the +world be decipherable; and a sleeping dog jumped up scared out of +its wits, and barked itself crazy at the turmoil. All manner of +cries were scattered through the din: "We're getting rich--TWO +Symbols of Incorruptibility!--without counting Billson!" "THREE!-- +count Shadbelly in--we can't have too many!" "All right--Billson's +elected!" "Alas, poor Wilson! victim of TWO thieves!" + +A Powerful Voice. "Silence! The Chair's fished up something more +out of its pocket." + +Voices. "Hurrah! Is it something fresh? Read it! read! read!" + +The Chair [reading]. "'The remark which I made,' etc. 'You are far +from being a bad man. Go,' etc. Signed, 'Gregory Yates.'" + +Tornado of Voices. "Four Symbols!" "'Rah for Yates!" "Fish +again!" + +The house was in a roaring humour now, and ready to get all the fun +out of the occasion that might be in it. Several Nineteeners, +looking pale and distressed, got up and began to work their way +towards the aisles, but a score of shouts went up: + +"The doors, the doors--close the doors; no Incorruptible shall leave +this place! Sit down, everybody!" The mandate was obeyed. + +"Fish again! Read! read!" + +The Chair fished again, and once more the familiar words began to +fall from its lips--"'You are far from being a bad man--'" + +"Name! name! What's his name?" + +"'L. Ingoldsby Sargent.'" + +"Five elected! Pile up the Symbols! Go on, go on!" + +"'You are far from being a bad--'" + +"Name! name!" + +"'Nicholas Whitworth.'" + +"Hooray! hooray! it's a symbolical day!" + +Somebody wailed in, and began to sing this rhyme (leaving out +"it's") to the lovely "Mikado" tune of "When a man's afraid of a +beautiful maid;" the audience joined in, with joy; then, just in +time, somebody contributed another line - + + +"And don't you this forget--" + + +The house roared it out. A third line was at once furnished - + + +"Corruptibles far from Hadleyburg are--" + + +The house roared that one too. As the last note died, Jack +Halliday's voice rose high and clear, freighted with a final line - + + +"But the Symbols are here, you bet!" + + +That was sung, with booming enthusiasm. Then the happy house +started in at the beginning and sang the four lines through twice, +with immense swing and dash, and finished up with a crashing three- +times-three and a tiger for "Hadleyburg the Incorruptible and all +Symbols of it which we shall find worthy to receive the hall-mark +to-night." + +Then the shoutings at the Chair began again, all over the place: + +"Go on! go on! Read! read some more! Read all you've got!" + +"That's it--go on! We are winning eternal celebrity!" + +A dozen men got up now and began to protest. They said that this +farce was the work of some abandoned joker, and was an insult to the +whole community. Without a doubt these signatures were all +forgeries - + +"Sit down! sit down! Shut up! You are confessing. We'll find your +names in the lot." + +"Mr. Chairman, how many of those envelopes have you got?" + +The Chair counted. + +"Together with those that have been already examined, there are +nineteen." + +A storm of derisive applause broke out. + +"Perhaps they all contain the secret. I move that you open them all +and read every signature that is attached to a note of that sort-- +and read also the first eight words of the note." + +"Second the motion!" + +It was put and carried--uproariously. Then poor old Richards got +up, and his wife rose and stood at his side. Her head was bent +down, so that none might see that she was crying. Her husband gave +her his arm, and so supporting her, he began to speak in a quavering +voice: + +"My friends, you have known us two--Mary and me--all our lives, and +I think you have liked us and respected us--" + +The Chair interrupted him: + +"Allow me. It is quite true--that which you are saying, Mr. +Richards; this town DOES know you two; it DOES like you; it DOES +respect you; more--it honours you and LOVES you--" + +Halliday's voice rang out: + +"That's the hall-marked truth, too! If the Chair is right, let the +house speak up and say it. Rise! Now, then--hip! hip! hip!--all +together!" + +The house rose in mass, faced toward the old couple eagerly, filled +the air with a snow-storm of waving handkerchiefs, and delivered the +cheers with all its affectionate heart. + +The Chair then continued: + +"What I was going to say is this: We know your good heart, Mr. +Richards, but this is not a time for the exercise of charity toward +offenders. [Shouts of "Right! right!"] I see your generous purpose +in your face, but I cannot allow you to plead for these men--" + +"But I was going to--" + +"Please take your seat, Mr. Richards. We must examine the rest of +these notes--simple fairness to the men who have already been +exposed requires this. As soon as that has been done--I give you my +word for this--you shall he heard." + +Many voices. "Right!--the Chair is right--no interruption can be +permitted at this stage! Go on!--the names! the names!--according +to the terms of the motion!" + +The old couple sat reluctantly down, and the husband whispered to +the wife, "It is pitifully hard to have to wait; the shame will be +greater than ever when they find we were only going to plead for +OURSELVES." + +Straightway the jollity broke loose again with the reading of the +names. + +"'You are far from being a bad man--' Signature, 'Robert J. +Titmarsh.'" + +'"You are far from being a bad man--' Signature, 'Eliphalet Weeks.'" + +"'You are far from being a bad man--' Signature, 'Oscar B. Wilder.'" + +At this point the house lit upon the idea of taking the eight words +out of the Chairman's hands. He was not unthankful for that. +Thenceforward he held up each note in its turn and waited. The +house droned out the eight words in a massed and measured and +musical deep volume of sound (with a daringly close resemblance to a +well-known church chant)--"You are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-a-d +man." Then the Chair said, "Signature, 'Archibald Wilcox.'" And so +on, and so on, name after name, and everybody had an increasingly +and gloriously good time except the wretched Nineteen. Now and +then, when a particularly shining name was called, the house made +the Chair wait while it chanted the whole of the test-remark from +the beginning to the closing words, "And go to hell or Hadleyburg-- +try and make it the for-or-m-e-r!" and in these special cases they +added a grand and agonised and imposing "A-a-a-a-MEN!" + +The list dwindled, dwindled, dwindled, poor old Richards keeping +tally of the count, wincing when a name resembling his own was +pronounced, and waiting in miserable suspense for the time to come +when it would be his humiliating privilege to rise with Mary and +finish his plea, which he was intending to word thus: ". . . for +until now we have never done any wrong thing, but have gone our +humble way unreproached. We are very poor, we are old, and, have no +chick nor child to help us; we were sorely tempted, and we fell. It +was my purpose when I got up before to make confession and beg that +my name might not be read out in this public place, for it seemed to +us that we could not bear it; but I was prevented. It was just; it +was our place to suffer with the rest. It has been hard for us. It +is the first time we have ever heard our name fall from any one's +lips--sullied. Be merciful--for the sake or the better days; make +our shame as light to bear as in your charity you can." At this +point in his reverie Mary nudged him, perceiving that his mind was +absent. The house was chanting, "You are f-a-r," etc. + +"Be ready," Mary whispered. "Your name comes now; he has read +eighteen." + +The chant ended. + +"Next! next! next!" came volleying from all over the house. + +Burgess put his hand into his pocket. The old couple, trembling, +began to rise. Burgess fumbled a moment, then said: + +"I find I have read them all." + +Faint with joy and surprise, the couple sank into their seats, and +Mary whispered: + +"Oh, bless God, we are saved!--he has lost ours--I wouldn't give +this for a hundred of those sacks!" + +The house burst out with its "Mikado" travesty, and sang it three +times with ever-increasing enthusiasm, rising to its feet when it +reached for the third time the closing line - + + +"But the Symbols are here, you bet!" + + +and finishing up with cheers and a tiger for "Hadleyburg purity and +our eighteen immortal representatives of it." + +Then Wingate, the saddler, got up and proposed cheers "for the +cleanest man in town, the one solitary important citizen in it who +didn't try to steal that money--Edward Richards." + +They were given with great and moving heartiness; then somebody +proposed that "Richards be elected sole Guardian and Symbol of the +now Sacred Hadleyburg Tradition, with power and right to stand up +and look the whole sarcastic world in the face." + +Passed, by acclamation; then they sang the "Mikado" again, and ended +it with - + + +"And there's ONE Symbol left, you bet!" + + +There was a pause; then - + +A Voice. "Now, then, who's to get the sack?" + +The Tanner (with bitter sarcasm). "That's easy. The money has to +be divided among the eighteen Incorruptibles. They gave the +suffering stranger twenty dollars apiece--and that remark--each in +his turn--it took twenty-two minutes for the procession to move +past. Staked the stranger--total contribution, $360. All they want +is just the loan back--and interest--forty thousand dollars +altogether." + +Many Voices [derisively.] "That's it! Divvy! divvy! Be kind to +the poor--don't keep them waiting!" + +The Chair. "Order! I now offer the stranger's remaining document. +It says: 'If no claimant shall appear [grand chorus of groans], I +desire that you open the sack and count out the money to the +principal citizens of your town, they to take it in trust [Cries of +"Oh! Oh! Oh!"], and use it in such ways as to them shall seem best +for the propagation and preservation of your community's noble +reputation for incorruptible honesty [more cries]--a reputation to +which their names and their efforts will add a new and far-reaching +lustre." [Enthusiastic outburst of sarcastic applause.] That seems +to be all. No--here is a postscript: + +"'P.S.--CITIZENS OF HADLEYBURG: There IS no test-remark--nobody +made one. [Great sensation.] There wasn't any pauper stranger, nor +any twenty-dollar contribution, nor any accompanying benediction and +compliment--these are all inventions. [General buzz and hum of +astonishment and delight.] Allow me to tell my story--it will take +but a word or two. I passed through your town at a certain time, +and received a deep offence which I had not earned. Any other man +would have been content to kill one or two of you and call it +square, but to me that would have been a trivial revenge, and +inadequate; for the dead do not SUFFER. Besides I could not kill you +all--and, anyway, made as I am, even that would not have satisfied +me. I wanted to damage every man in the place, and every woman--and +not in their bodies or in their estate, but in their vanity--the +place where feeble and foolish people are most vulnerable. So I +disguised myself and came back and studied you. You were easy game. +You had an old and lofty reputation for honesty, and naturally you +were proud of it--it was your treasure of treasures, the very apple +of your eye. As soon as I found out that you carefully and +vigilantly kept yourselves and your children OUT OF TEMPTATION, I +knew how to proceed. Why, you simple creatures, the weakest of all +weak things is a virtue which has not been tested in the fire. I +laid a plan, and gathered a list of names. My project was to +corrupt Hadleyburg the Incorruptible. My idea was to make liars and +thieves of nearly half a hundred smirchless men and women who had +never in their lives uttered a lie or stolen a penny. I was afraid +of Goodson. He was neither born nor reared in Hadleyburg. I was +afraid that if I started to operate my scheme by getting my letter +laid before you, you would say to yourselves, 'Goodson is the only +man among us who would give away twenty dollars to a poor devil'-- +and then you might not bite at my bait. But heaven took Goodson; +then I knew I was safe, and I set my trap and baited it. It may be +that I shall not catch all the men to whom I mailed the pretended +test-secret, but I shall catch the most of them, if I know +Hadleyburg nature. [Voices. "Right--he got every last one of +them."] I believe they will even steal ostensible GAMBLE-money, +rather than miss, poor, tempted, and mistrained fellows. I am +hoping to eternally and everlastingly squelch your vanity and give +Hadleyburg a new renown--one that will STICK--and spread far. If I +have succeeded, open the sack and summon the Committee on +Propagation and Preservation of the Hadleyburg Reputation.'" + +A Cyclone of Voices. "Open it! Open it! The Eighteen to the +front! Committee on Propagation of the Tradition! Forward--the +Incorruptibles!" + +The Chair ripped the sack wide, and gathered up a handful of bright, +broad, yellow coins, shook them together, then examined them. + +"Friends, they are only gilded disks of lead!" + +There was a crashing outbreak of delight over this news, and when +the noise had subsided, the tanner called out: + +"By right of apparent seniority in this business, Mr. Wilson is +Chairman of the Committee on Propagation of the Tradition. I +suggest that he step forward on behalf of his pals, and receive in +trust the money." + +A Hundred Voices. "Wilson! Wilson! Wilson! Speech! Speech!" + +Wilson [in a voice trembling with anger]. "You will allow me to +say, and without apologies for my language, DAMN the money!" + +A Voice. "Oh, and him a Baptist!" + +A Voice. "Seventeen Symbols left! Step up, gentlemen, and assume +your trust!" + +There was a pause--no response. + +The Saddler. "Mr. Chairman, we've got ONE clean man left, anyway, +out of the late aristocracy; and he needs money, and deserves it. I +move that you appoint Jack Halliday to get up there and auction off +that sack of gilt twenty-dollar pieces, and give the result to the +right man--the man whom Hadleyburg delights to honour--Edward +Richards." + +This was received with great enthusiasm, the dog taking a hand +again; the saddler started the bids at a dollar, the Brixton folk +and Barnum's representative fought hard for it, the people cheered +every jump that the bids made, the excitement climbed moment by +moment higher and higher, the bidders got on their mettle and grew +steadily more and more daring, more and more determined, the jumps +went from a dollar up to five, then to ten, then to twenty, then +fifty, then to a hundred, then - + +At the beginning of the auction Richards whispered in distress to +his wife: "Oh, Mary, can we allow it? It--it --you see, it is an +honour--reward, a testimonial to purity of character, and--and--can +we allow it? Hadn't I better get up and--Oh, Mary, what ought we to +do?--what do you think we--" [Halliday's voice. "Fifteen I'm bid!-- +fifteen for the sack!--twenty!--ah, thanks!--thirty--thanks again! +Thirty, thirty, thirty!--do I hear forty?--forty it is! Keep the +ball rolling, gentlemen, keep it rolling!--fifty! --thanks, noble +Roman!--going at fifty, fifty, fifty!--seventy! --ninety!-- +splendid!--a hundred!--pile it up, pile it up!--hundred and twenty-- +forty!--just in time!--hundred and fifty!--Two hundred!--superb! Do +I hear two h--thanks! --two hundred and fifty!--"] + +"It is another temptation, Edward--I'm all in a tremble --but, oh, +we've escaped one temptation, and that ought to warn us, to--["Six +did I hear?--thanks!--six fifty, six f--SEVEN hundred!"] And yet, +Edward, when you think--nobody susp--["Eight hundred dollars!-- +hurrah!--make it nine!--Mr. Parsons, did I hear you say--thanks!-- +nine!--this noble sack of virgin lead going at only nine hundred +dollars, gilding and all-- come! do I hear--a thousand!--gratefully +yours!--did some one say eleven?--a sack which is going to be the +most celebrated in the whole Uni--"] "Oh, Edward" (beginning to +sob), "we are so poor!--but--but--do as you think best--do as you +think best." + +Edward fell--that is, he sat still; sat with a conscience which was +not satisfied, but which was overpowered by circumstances. + +Meantime a stranger, who looked like an amateur detective gotten up +as an impossible English earl, had been watching the evening's +proceedings with manifest interest, and with a contented expression +in his face; and he had been privately commenting to himself. He +was now soliloquising somewhat like this: 'None of the Eighteen are +bidding; that is not satisfactory; I must change that--the dramatic +unities require it; they must buy the sack they tried to steal; they +must pay a heavy price, too--some of them are rich. And another +thing, when I make a mistake in Hadleyburg nature the man that puts +that error upon me is entitled to a high honorarium, and some one +must pay. This poor old Richards has brought my judgment to shame; +he is an honest man:--I don't understand it, but I acknowledge it. +Yes, he saw my deuces--AND with a straight flush, and by rights the +pot is his. And it shall be a jack-pot, too, if I can manage it. +He disappointed me, but let that pass." + +He was watching the bidding. At a thousand, the market broke: the +prices tumbled swiftly. He waited--and still watched. One +competitor dropped out; then another, and another. He put in a bid +or two now. When the bids had sunk to ten dollars, he added a five; +some one raised him a three; he waited a moment, then flung in a +fifty-dollar jump, and the sack was his--at $1,282. The house broke +out in cheers--then stopped; for he was on his feet, and had lifted +his hand. He began to speak. + +"I desire to say a word, and ask a favour. I am a speculator in +rarities, and I have dealings with persons interested in numismatics +all over the world. I can make a profit on this purchase, just as +it stands; but there is a way, if I can get your approval, whereby I +can make every one of these leaden twenty-dollar pieces worth its +face in gold, and perhaps more. Grant me that approval, and I will +give part of my gains to your Mr. Richards, whose invulnerable +probity you have so justly and so cordially recognised tonight; his +share shall be ten thousand dollars, and I will hand him the money +to-morrow. [Great applause from the house. But the "invulnerable +probity" made the Richardses blush prettily; however, it went for +modesty, and did no harm.] If you will pass my proposition by a +good majority--I would like a two-thirds vote--I will regard that as +the town's consent, and that is all I ask. Rarities are always +helped by any device which will rouse curiosity and compel remark. +Now if I may have your permission to stamp upon the faces of each of +these ostensible coins the names of the eighteen gentlemen who--" + +Nine-tenths of the audience were on their feet in a moment--dog and +all--and the proposition was carried with a whirlwind of approving +applause and laughter. + +They sat down, and all the Symbols except "Dr." Clay Harkness got +up, violently protesting against the proposed outrage, and +threatening to - + +"I beg you not to threaten me," said the stranger calmly. "I know +my legal rights, and am not accustomed to being frightened at +bluster." [Applause.] He sat down. "Dr." Harkness saw an +opportunity here. He was one of the two very rich men of the place, +and Pinkerton was the other. Harkness was proprietor of a mint; +that is to say, a popular patent medicine. He was running for the +Legislature on one ticket, and Pinkerton on the other. It was a +close race and a hot one, and getting hotter every day. Both had +strong appetites for money; each had bought a great tract of land, +with a purpose; there was going to be a new railway, and each wanted +to be in the Legislature and help locate the route to his own +advantage; a single vote might make the decision, and with it two or +three fortunes. The stake was large, and Harkness was a daring +speculator. He was sitting close to the stranger. He leaned over +while one or another of the other Symbols was entertaining the house +with protests and appeals, and asked, in a whisper, + +"What is your price for the sack?" + +"Forty thousand dollars." + +"I'll give you twenty." + +"No." + +"Twenty-five." + +"No." + +"Say thirty." + +"The price is forty thousand dollars; not a penny less." + +"All right, I'll give it. I will come to the hotel at ten in the +morning. I don't want it known; will see you privately." + +"Very good." Then the stranger got up and said to the house: + +"I find it late. The speeches of these gentlemen are not without +merit, not without interest, not without grace; yet if I may he +excused I will take my leave. I thank you for the great favour +which you have shown me in granting my petition. I ask the Chair to +keep the sack for me until to-morrow, and to hand these three five- +hundred-dollar notes to Mr. Richards." They were passed up to the +Chair. + +"At nine I will call for the sack, and at eleven will deliver the +rest of the ten thousand to Mr. Richards in person at his home. +Good-night." + +Then he slipped out, and left the audience making a vast noise, +which was composed of a mixture of cheers, the "Mikado" song, dog- +disapproval, and the chant, "You are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-d man- +-a-a-a a-men!" + + +IV + + +At home the Richardses had to endure congratulations and compliments +until midnight. Then they were left to themselves. They looked a +little sad, and they sat silent and thinking. Finally Mary sighed +and said: + +"Do you think we are to blame, Edward--MUCH to blame?" and her eyes +wandered to the accusing triplet of big bank-notes lying on the +table, where the congratulators had been gloating over them and +reverently fingering them. Edward did not answer at once; then he +brought out a sigh and said, hesitatingly: + +"We--we couldn't help it, Mary. It--well it was ordered. ALL +things are." + +Mary glanced up and looked at him steadily, but he didn't return the +look. Presently she said: + +"I thought congratulations and praises always tasted good. But--it +seems to me, now-- Edward?" + +"Well?" + +"Are you going to stay in the bank?" + +"N--no." + +"Resign?" + +"In the morning--by note." + +"It does seem best." + +Richards bowed his head in his hands and muttered: + +"Before I was not afraid to let oceans of people's money pour +through my hands, but-- Mary, I am so tired, so tired--" + +"We will go to bed." + +At nine in the morning the stranger called for the sack and took it +to the hotel in a cab. At ten Harkness had a talk with him +privately. The stranger asked for and got five cheques on a +metropolitan bank--drawn to "Bearer,"--four for $1,500 each, and one +for $34,000. He put one of the former in his pocket-book, and the +remainder, representing $38,500, he put in an envelope, and with +these he added a note which he wrote after Harkness was gone. At +eleven he called at the Richards' house and knocked. Mrs. Richards +peeped through the shutters, then went and received the envelope, +and the stranger disappeared without a word. She came back flushed +and a little unsteady on her legs, and gasped out: + +"I am sure I recognised him! Last night it seemed to me that maybe +I had seen him somewhere before." + +"He is the man that brought the sack here?" + +"I am almost sure of it." + +"Then he is the ostensible Stephenson too, and sold every important +citizen in this town with his bogus secret. Now if he has sent +cheques instead of money, we are sold too, after we thought we had +escaped. I was beginning to feel fairly comfortable once more, +after my night's rest, but the look of that envelope makes me sick. +It isn't fat enough; $8,500 in even the largest bank-notes makes +more bulk than that." + +"Edward, why do you object to cheques?" + +"Cheques signed by Stephenson! I am resigned to take the $8,500 if +it could come in bank-notes--for it does seem that it was so +ordered, Mary--but I have never had much courage, and I have not the +pluck to try to market a cheque signed with that disastrous name. +It would be a trap. That man tried to catch me; we escaped somehow +or other; and now he is trying a new way. If it is cheques--" + +"Oh, Edward, it is TOO bad!" And she held up the cheques and began +to cry. + +"Put them in the fire! quick! we mustn't be tempted. It is a trick +to make the world laugh at US, along with the rest, and-- Give them +to ME, since you can't do it!" He snatched them and tried to hold +his grip till he could get to the stove; but he was human, he was a +cashier, and he stopped a moment to make sure of the signature. +Then he came near to fainting. + +"Fan me, Mary, fan me! They are the same as gold!" + +"Oh, how lovely, Edward! Why?" + +"Signed by Harkness. What can the mystery of that be, Mary?" + +"Edward, do you think--" + +"Look here--look at this! Fifteen--fifteen--fifteen--thirty-four. +Thirty-eight thousand five hundred! Mary, the sack isn't worth +twelve dollars, and Harkness--apparently--has paid about par for +it." + +"And does it all come to us, do you think--instead of the ten +thousand?" + +"Why, it looks like it. And the cheques are made to 'Bearer,' too." + +"Is that good, Edward? What is it for?" + +"A hint to collect them at some distant bank, I reckon. Perhaps +Harkness doesn't want the matter known. What is that--a note?" + +"Yes. It was with the cheques." + +It was in the "Stephenson" handwriting, but there was no signature. +It said: + + +"I am a disappointed man. Your honesty is beyond the reach of +temptation. I had a different idea about it, but I wronged you in +that, and I beg pardon, and do it sincerely. I honour you--and that +is sincere too. This town is not worthy to kiss the hem of your +garment. Dear sir, I made a square bet with myself that there were +nineteen debauchable men in your self-righteous community. I have +lost. Take the whole pot, you are entitled to it." + + +Richards drew a deep sigh, and said: + +"It seems written with fire--it burns so. Mary--I am miserable +again." + +"I, too. Ah, dear, I wish--" + +"To think, Mary--he BELIEVES in me." + +"Oh, don't, Edward--I can't bear it." + +"If those beautiful words were deserved, Mary--and God knows I +believed I deserved them once--I think I could give the forty +thousand dollars for them. And I would put that paper away, as +representing more than gold and jewels, and keep it always. But +now-- We could not live in the shadow of its accusing presence, +Mary." + +He put it in the fire. + +A messenger arrived and delivered an envelope. Richards took from +it a note and read it; it was from Burgess: + + +"You saved me, in a difficult time. I saved you last night. It was +at cost of a lie, but I made the sacrifice freely, and out of a +grateful heart. None in this village knows so well as I know how +brave and good and noble you are. At bottom you cannot respect me, +knowing as you do of that matter of which I am accused, and by the +general voice condemned; but I beg that you will at least believe +that I am a grateful man; it will help me to bear my burden. +[Signed] 'BURGESS.'" + + +"Saved, once more. And on such terms!" He put the note in the +lire. "I--I wish I were dead, Mary, I wish I were out of it all!" + +"Oh, these are bitter, bitter days, Edward. The stabs, through +their very generosity, are so deep--and they come so fast!" + +Three days before the election each of two thousand voters suddenly +found himself in possession of a prized memento--one of the renowned +bogus double-eagles. Around one of its faces was stamped these +words: "THE REMARK I MADE TO THE POOR STRANGER WAS--" Around the +other face was stamped these: "GO, AND REFORM. [SIGNED] +PINKERTON." Thus the entire remaining refuse of the renowned joke +was emptied upon a single head, and with calamitous effect. It +revived the recent vast laugh and concentrated it upon Pinkerton; +and Harkness's election was a walk-over. + +Within twenty-four hours after the Richardses had received their +cheques their consciences were quieting down, discouraged; the old +couple were learning to reconcile themselves to the sin which they +had committed. But they were to learn, now, that a sin takes on new +and real terrors when there seems a chance that it is going to be +found out. This gives it a fresh and most substantial and important +aspect. At church the morning sermon was of the usual pattern; it +was the same old things said in the same old way; they had heard +them a thousand times and found them innocuous, next to meaningless, +and easy to sleep under; but now it was different: the sermon +seemed to bristle with accusations; it seemed aimed straight and +specially at people who were concealing deadly sins. After church +they got away from the mob of congratulators as soon as they could, +and hurried homeward, chilled to the bone at they did not know what- +-vague, shadowy, indefinite fears. And by chance they caught a +glimpse of Mr. Burgess as he turned a corner. He paid no attention +to their nod of recognition! He hadn't seen it; but they did not +know that. What could his conduct mean? It might mean--it might-- +mean--oh, a dozen dreadful things. Was it possible that he knew +that Richards could have cleared him of guilt in that bygone time, +and had been silently waiting for a chance to even up accounts? At +home, in their distress they got to imagining that their servant +might have been in the next room listening when Richards revealed +the secret to his wife that he knew of Burgess's innocence; next +Richards began to imagine that he had heard the swish of a gown in +there at that time; next, he was sure he HAD heard it. They would +call Sarah in, on a pretext, and watch her face; if she had been +betraying them to Mr. Burgess, it would show in her manner. They +asked her some questions--questions which were so random and +incoherent and seemingly purposeless that the girl felt sure that +the old people's minds had been affected by their sudden good +fortune; the sharp and watchful gaze which they bent upon her +frightened her, and that completed the business. She blushed, she +became nervous and confused, and to the old people these were plain +signs of guilt--guilt of some fearful sort or other--without doubt +she was a spy and a traitor. When they were alone again they began +to piece many unrelated things together and get horrible results out +of the combination. When things had got about to the worst Richards +was delivered of a sudden gasp and his wife asked: + +"Oh, what is it?--what is it?" + +"The note--Burgess's note! Its language was sarcastic, I see it +now." He quoted: "'At bottom you cannot respect me, KNOWING, as +you do, of THAT MATTER OF which I am accused'--oh, it is perfectly +plain, now, God help me! He knows that I know! You see the +ingenuity of the phrasing. It was a trap--and like a fool, I walked +into it. And Mary--!" + +"Oh, it is dreadful--I know what you are going to say --he didn't +return your transcript of the pretended test-remark." + +"No--kept it to destroy us with. Mary, he has exposed us to some +already. I know it--I know it well. I saw it in a dozen faces +after church. Ah, he wouldn't answer our nod of recognition--he +knew what he had been doing!" + +In the night the doctor was called. The news went around in the +morning that the old couple were rather seriously ill--prostrated by +the exhausting excitement growing out of their great windfall, the +congratulations, and the late hours, the doctor said. The town was +sincerely distressed; for these old people were about all it had +left to be proud of, now. + +Two days later the news was worse. The old couple were delirious, +and were doing strange things. By witness of the nurses, Richards +had exhibited cheques--for $8,500? No--for an amazing sum--$38,500! +What could be the explanation of this gigantic piece of luck? + +The following day the nurses had more news--and wonderful. They had +concluded to hide the cheques, lest harm come to them; but when they +searched they were gone from under the patient's pillow--vanished +away. The patient said: + +"Let the pillow alone; what do you want?" + +"We thought it best that the cheques--" + +"You will never see them again--they are destroyed. They came from +Satan. I saw the hell-brand on them, and I knew they were sent to +betray me to sin." Then he fell to gabbling strange and dreadful +things which were not clearly understandable, and which the doctor +admonished them to keep to themselves. + +Richards was right; the cheques were never seen again. + +A nurse must have talked in her sleep, for within two days the +forbidden gabblings were the property of the town; and they were of +a surprising sort. They seemed to indicate that Richards had been a +claimant for the sack himself, and that Burgess had concealed that +fact and then maliciously betrayed it. + +Burgess was taxed with this and stoutly denied it. And he said it +was not fair to attach weight to the chatter of a sick old man who +was out of his mind. Still, suspicion was in the air, and there was +much talk. + +After a day or two it was reported that Mrs. Richards's delirious +deliveries were getting to be duplicates of her husband's. +Suspicion flamed up into conviction, now, and the town's pride in +the purity of its one undiscredited important citizen began to dim +down and flicker toward extinction. + +Six days passed, then came more news. The old couple were dying. +Richards's mind cleared in his latest hour, and he sent for Burgess. +Burgess said: + +"Let the room be cleared. I think he wishes to say something in +privacy." + +"No!" said Richards; "I want witnesses. I want you all to hear my +confession, so that I may die a man, and not a dog. I was clean-- +artificially--like the rest; and like the rest I fell when +temptation came. I signed a lie, and claimed the miserable sack. +Mr. Burgess remembered that I had done him a service, and in +gratitude (and ignorance) he suppressed my claim and saved me. You +know the thing that was charged against Burgess years ago. My +testimony, and mine alone, could have cleared him, and I was a +coward and left him to suffer disgrace--" + +"No--no--Mr. Richards, you--" + +"My servant betrayed my secret to him--" + +"No one has betrayed anything to me--" + +- "And then he did a natural and justifiable thing; he repented of +the saving kindness which he had done me, and he EXPOSED me--as I +deserved--" + +"Never!--I make oath--" + +"Out of my heart I forgive him." + +Burgess's impassioned protestations fell upon deaf ears; the dying +man passed away without knowing that once more he had done poor +Burgess a wrong. The old wife died that night. + +The last of the sacred Nineteen had fallen a prey to the fiendish +sack; the town was stripped of the last rag of its ancient glory. +Its mourning was not showy, but it was deep. + +By act of the Legislature--upon prayer and petition--Hadleyburg was +allowed to change its name to (never mind what--I will not give it +away), and leave one word out of the motto that for many generations +had graced the town's official seal. + +It is an honest town once more, and the man will have to rise early +that catches it napping again. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg eText The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg + diff --git a/old/old/hdlyb10.zip b/old/old/hdlyb10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0646fa0 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/hdlyb10.zip diff --git a/old/old/old/1213.txt b/old/old/old/1213.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d72a9ec --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/old/1213.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2456 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg, by Mark +Twain + + +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 Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg + + +Author: Mark Twain + +Release Date: April 1, 2005 [eBook #1213] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN THAT CORRUPTED HADLEYBURG*** + + + + + +Transcribed from the 1907 Chatto & Windus edition by David Price, email +ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + + + +THE MAN THAT CORRUPTED HADLEYBURG + + +I. + + +It was many years ago. Hadleyburg was the most honest and upright town +in all the region round about. It had kept that reputation unsmirched +during three generations, and was prouder of it than of any other of its +possessions. It was so proud of it, and so anxious to insure its +perpetuation, that it began to teach the principles of honest dealing to +its babies in the cradle, and made the like teachings the staple of their +culture thenceforward through all the years devoted to their education. +Also, throughout the formative years temptations were kept out of the way +of the young people, so that their honesty could have every chance to +harden and solidify, and become a part of their very bone. The +neighbouring towns were jealous of this honourable supremacy, and +affected to sneer at Hadleyburg's pride in it and call it vanity; but all +the same they were obliged to acknowledge that Hadleyburg was in reality +an incorruptible town; and if pressed they would also acknowledge that +the mere fact that a young man hailed from Hadleyburg was all the +recommendation he needed when he went forth from his natal town to seek +for responsible employment. + +But at last, in the drift of time, Hadleyburg had the ill luck to offend +a passing stranger--possibly without knowing it, certainly without +caring, for Hadleyburg was sufficient unto itself, and cared not a rap +for strangers or their opinions. Still, it would have been well to make +an exception in this one's case, for he was a bitter man, and revengeful. +All through his wanderings during a whole year he kept his injury in +mind, and gave all his leisure moments to trying to invent a compensating +satisfaction for it. He contrived many plans, and all of them were good, +but none of them was quite sweeping enough: the poorest of them would +hurt a great many individuals, but what he wanted was a plan which would +comprehend the entire town, and not let so much as one person escape +unhurt. At last he had a fortunate idea, and when it fell into his brain +it lit up his whole head with an evil joy. He began to form a plan at +once, saying to himself "That is the thing to do--I will corrupt the +town." + +Six months later he went to Hadleyburg, and arrived in a buggy at the +house of the old cashier of the bank about ten at night. He got a sack +out of the buggy, shouldered it, and staggered with it through the +cottage yard, and knocked at the door. A woman's voice said "Come in," +and he entered, and set his sack behind the stove in the parlour, saying +politely to the old lady who sat reading the "Missionary Herald" by the +lamp: + +"Pray keep your seat, madam, I will not disturb you. There--now it is +pretty well concealed; one would hardly know it was there. Can I see +your husband a moment, madam?" + +No, he was gone to Brixton, and might not return before morning. + +"Very well, madam, it is no matter. I merely wanted to leave that sack +in his care, to be delivered to the rightful owner when he shall be +found. I am a stranger; he does not know me; I am merely passing through +the town to-night to discharge a matter which has been long in my mind. +My errand is now completed, and I go pleased and a little proud, and you +will never see me again. There is a paper attached to the sack which +will explain everything. Good-night, madam." + +The old lady was afraid of the mysterious big stranger, and was glad to +see him go. But her curiosity was roused, and she went straight to the +sack and brought away the paper. It began as follows: + + "TO BE PUBLISHED, or, the right man sought out by private + inquiry--either will answer. This sack contains gold coin weighing a + hundred and sixty pounds four ounces--" + +"Mercy on us, and the door not locked!" + +Mrs. Richards flew to it all in a tremble and locked it, then pulled down +the window-shades and stood frightened, worried, and wondering if there +was anything else she could do toward making herself and the money more +safe. She listened awhile for burglars, then surrendered to curiosity, +and went back to the lamp and finished reading the paper: + + "I am a foreigner, and am presently going back to my own country, to + remain there permanently. I am grateful to America for what I have + received at her hands during my long stay under her flag; and to one + of her citizens--a citizen of Hadleyburg--I am especially grateful for + a great kindness done me a year or two ago. Two great kindnesses in + fact. I will explain. I was a gambler. I say I WAS. I was a ruined + gambler. I arrived in this village at night, hungry and without a + penny. I asked for help--in the dark; I was ashamed to beg in the + light. I begged of the right man. He gave me twenty dollars--that is + to say, he gave me life, as I considered it. He also gave me fortune; + for out of that money I have made myself rich at the gaming-table. And + finally, a remark which he made to me has remained with me to this + day, and has at last conquered me; and in conquering has saved the + remnant of my morals: I shall gamble no more. Now I have no idea who + that man was, but I want him found, and I want him to have this money, + to give away, throw away, or keep, as he pleases. It is merely my way + of testifying my gratitude to him. If I could stay, I would find him + myself; but no matter, he will be found. This is an honest town, an + incorruptible town, and I know I can trust it without fear. This man + can be identified by the remark which he made to me; I feel persuaded + that he will remember it. + + "And now my plan is this: If you prefer to conduct the inquiry + privately, do so. Tell the contents of this present writing to any + one who is likely to be the right man. If he shall answer, 'I am the + man; the remark I made was so-and-so,' apply the test--to wit: open + the sack, and in it you will find a sealed envelope containing that + remark. If the remark mentioned by the candidate tallies with it, + give him the money, and ask no further questions, for he is certainly + the right man. + + "But if you shall prefer a public inquiry, then publish this present + writing in the local paper--with these instructions added, to wit: + Thirty days from now, let the candidate appear at the town-hall at + eight in the evening (Friday), and hand his remark, in a sealed + envelope, to the Rev. Mr. Burgess (if he will be kind enough to act); + and let Mr. Burgess there and then destroy the seals of the sack, open + it, and see if the remark is correct: if correct, let the money be + delivered, with my sincere gratitude, to my benefactor thus + identified." + +Mrs. Richards sat down, gently quivering with excitement, and was soon +lost in thinkings--after this pattern: "What a strange thing it is! . . . +And what a fortune for that kind man who set his bread afloat upon the +waters! . . . If it had only been my husband that did it!--for we are so +poor, so old and poor! . . ." Then, with a sigh--"But it was not my +Edward; no, it was not he that gave a stranger twenty dollars. It is a +pity too; I see it now. . . " Then, with a shudder--"But it is +_gamblers_' money! the wages of sin; we couldn't take it; we couldn't +touch it. I don't like to be near it; it seems a defilement." She moved +to a farther chair. . . "I wish Edward would come, and take it to the +bank; a burglar might come at any moment; it is dreadful to be here all +alone with it." + +At eleven Mr. Richards arrived, and while his wife was saying "I am _so_ +glad you've come!" he was saying, "I am so tired--tired clear out; it is +dreadful to be poor, and have to make these dismal journeys at my time of +life. Always at the grind, grind, grind, on a salary--another man's +slave, and he sitting at home in his slippers, rich and comfortable." + +"I am so sorry for you, Edward, you know that; but be comforted; we have +our livelihood; we have our good name--" + +"Yes, Mary, and that is everything. Don't mind my talk--it's just a +moment's irritation and doesn't mean anything. Kiss me--there, it's all +gone now, and I am not complaining any more. What have you been getting? +What's in the sack?" + +Then his wife told him the great secret. It dazed him for a moment; then +he said: + +"It weighs a hundred and sixty pounds? Why, Mary, it's for-ty thou-sand +dollars--think of it--a whole fortune! Not ten men in this village are +worth that much. Give me the paper." + +He skimmed through it and said: + +"Isn't it an adventure! Why, it's a romance; it's like the impossible +things one reads about in books, and never sees in life." He was well +stirred up now; cheerful, even gleeful. He tapped his old wife on the +cheek, and said humorously, "Why, we're rich, Mary, rich; all we've got +to do is to bury the money and burn the papers. If the gambler ever +comes to inquire, we'll merely look coldly upon him and say: 'What is +this nonsense you are talking? We have never heard of you and your sack +of gold before;' and then he would look foolish, and--" + +"And in the meantime, while you are running on with your jokes, the money +is still here, and it is fast getting along toward burglar-time." + +"True. Very well, what shall we do--make the inquiry private? No, not +that; it would spoil the romance. The public method is better. Think +what a noise it will make! And it will make all the other towns jealous; +for no stranger would trust such a thing to any town but Hadleyburg, and +they know it. It's a great card for us. I must get to the +printing-office now, or I shall be too late." + +"But stop--stop--don't leave me here alone with it, Edward!" + +But he was gone. For only a little while, however. Not far from his own +house he met the editor--proprietor of the paper, and gave him the +document, and said "Here is a good thing for you, Cox--put it in." + +"It may be too late, Mr. Richards, but I'll see." + +At home again, he and his wife sat down to talk the charming mystery +over; they were in no condition for sleep. The first question was, Who +could the citizen have been who gave the stranger the twenty dollars? It +seemed a simple one; both answered it in the same breath-- + +"Barclay Goodson." + +"Yes," said Richards, "he could have done it, and it would have been like +him, but there's not another in the town." + +"Everybody will grant that, Edward--grant it privately, anyway. For six +months, now, the village has been its own proper self once more--honest, +narrow, self-righteous, and stingy." + +"It is what he always called it, to the day of his death--said it right +out publicly, too." + +"Yes, and he was hated for it." + +"Oh, of course; but he didn't care. I reckon he was the best-hated man +among us, except the Reverend Burgess." + +"Well, Burgess deserves it--he will never get another congregation here. +Mean as the town is, it knows how to estimate _him_. Edward, doesn't it +seem odd that the stranger should appoint Burgess to deliver the money?" + +"Well, yes--it does. That is--that is--" + +"Why so much that-_is_-ing? Would _you_ select him?" + +"Mary, maybe the stranger knows him better than this village does." + +"Much _that_ would help Burgess!" + +The husband seemed perplexed for an answer; the wife kept a steady eye +upon him, and waited. Finally Richards said, with the hesitancy of one +who is making a statement which is likely to encounter doubt, + +"Mary, Burgess is not a bad man." + +His wife was certainly surprised. + +"Nonsense!" she exclaimed. + +"He is not a bad man. I know. The whole of his unpopularity had its +foundation in that one thing--the thing that made so much noise." + +"That 'one thing,' indeed! As if that 'one thing' wasn't enough, all by +itself." + +"Plenty. Plenty. Only he wasn't guilty of it." + +"How you talk! Not guilty of it! Everybody knows he _was_ guilty." + +"Mary, I give you my word--he was innocent." + +"I can't believe it and I don't. How do you know?" + +"It is a confession. I am ashamed, but I will make it. I was the only +man who knew he was innocent. I could have saved him, and--and--well, +you know how the town was wrought up--I hadn't the pluck to do it. It +would have turned everybody against me. I felt mean, ever so mean; ut I +didn't dare; I hadn't the manliness to face that." + +Mary looked troubled, and for a while was silent. Then she said +stammeringly: + +"I--I don't think it would have done for you to--to--One +mustn't--er--public opinion--one has to be so careful--so--" It was a +difficult road, and she got mired; but after a little she got started +again. "It was a great pity, but--Why, we couldn't afford it, Edward--we +couldn't indeed. Oh, I wouldn't have had you do it for anything!" + +"It would have lost us the good-will of so many people, Mary; and +then--and then--" + +"What troubles me now is, what _he_ thinks of us, Edward." + +"He? _He_ doesn't suspect that I could have saved him." + +"Oh," exclaimed the wife, in a tone of relief, "I am glad of that. As +long as he doesn't know that you could have saved him, he--he--well that +makes it a great deal better. Why, I might have known he didn't know, +because he is always trying to be friendly with us, as little +encouragement as we give him. More than once people have twitted me with +it. There's the Wilsons, and the Wilcoxes, and the Harknesses, they take +a mean pleasure in saying '_Your friend_ Burgess,' because they know it +pesters me. I wish he wouldn't persist in liking us so; I can't think +why he keeps it up." + +"I can explain it. It's another confession. When the thing was new and +hot, and the town made a plan to ride him on a rail, my conscience hurt +me so that I couldn't stand it, and I went privately and gave him notice, +and he got out of the town and stayed out till it was safe to come back." + +"Edward! If the town had found it out--" + +"_Don't_! It scares me yet, to think of it. I repented of it the minute +it was done; and I was even afraid to tell you lest your face might +betray it to somebody. I didn't sleep any that night, for worrying. But +after a few days I saw that no one was going to suspect me, and after +that I got to feeling glad I did it. And I feel glad yet, Mary--glad +through and through." + +"So do I, now, for it would have been a dreadful way to treat him. Yes, +I'm glad; for really you did owe him that, you know. But, Edward, +suppose it should come out yet, some day!" + +"It won't." + +"Why?" + +"Because everybody thinks it was Goodson." + +"Of course they would!" + +"Certainly. And of course _he_ didn't care. They persuaded poor old +Sawlsberry to go and charge it on him, and he went blustering over there +and did it. Goodson looked him over, like as if he was hunting for a +place on him that he could despise the most; then he says, 'So you are +the Committee of Inquiry, are you?' Sawlsberry said that was about what +he was. 'H'm. Do they require particulars, or do you reckon a kind of a +_general_ answer will do?' 'If they require particulars, I will come +back, Mr. Goodson; I will take the general answer first.' 'Very well, +then, tell them to go to hell--I reckon that's general enough. And I'll +give you some advice, Sawlsberry; when you come back for the particulars, +fetch a basket to carry what is left of yourself home in.'" + +"Just like Goodson; it's got all the marks. He had only one vanity; he +thought he could give advice better than any other person." + +"It settled the business, and saved us, Mary. The subject was dropped." + +"Bless you, I'm not doubting _that_." + +Then they took up the gold-sack mystery again, with strong interest. Soon +the conversation began to suffer breaks--interruptions caused by absorbed +thinkings. The breaks grew more and more frequent. At last Richards +lost himself wholly in thought. He sat long, gazing vacantly at the +floor, and by-and-by he began to punctuate his thoughts with little +nervous movements of his hands that seemed to indicate vexation. Meantime +his wife too had relapsed into a thoughtful silence, and her movements +were beginning to show a troubled discomfort. Finally Richards got up +and strode aimlessly about the room, ploughing his hands through his +hair, much as a somnambulist might do who was having a bad dream. Then +he seemed to arrive at a definite purpose; and without a word he put on +his hat and passed quickly out of the house. His wife sat brooding, with +a drawn face, and did not seem to be aware that she was alone. Now and +then she murmured, "Lead us not into t . . . but--but--we are so poor, so +poor! . . . Lead us not into . . . Ah, who would be hurt by it?--and no +one would ever know . . . Lead us . . . " The voice died out in +mumblings. After a little she glanced up and muttered in a +half-frightened, half-glad way-- + +"He is gone! But, oh dear, he may be too late--too late . . . Maybe +not--maybe there is still time." She rose and stood thinking, nervously +clasping and unclasping her hands. A slight shudder shook her frame, and +she said, out of a dry throat, "God forgive me--it's awful to think such +things--but . . . Lord, how we are made--how strangely we are made!" + +She turned the light low, and slipped stealthily over and knelt down by +the sack and felt of its ridgy sides with her hands, and fondled them +lovingly; and there was a gloating light in her poor old eyes. She fell +into fits of absence; and came half out of them at times to mutter "If we +had only waited!--oh, if we had only waited a little, and not been in +such a hurry!" + +Meantime Cox had gone home from his office and told his wife all about +the strange thing that had happened, and they had talked it over eagerly, +and guessed that the late Goodson was the only man in the town who could +have helped a suffering stranger with so noble a sum as twenty dollars. +Then there was a pause, and the two became thoughtful and silent. And by- +and-by nervous and fidgety. At last the wife said, as if to herself, + +"Nobody knows this secret but the Richardses . . . and us . . . nobody." + +The husband came out of his thinkings with a slight start, and gazed +wistfully at his wife, whose face was become very pale; then he +hesitatingly rose, and glanced furtively at his hat, then at his wife--a +sort of mute inquiry. Mrs. Cox swallowed once or twice, with her hand at +her throat, then in place of speech she nodded her head. In a moment she +was alone, and mumbling to herself. + +And now Richards and Cox were hurrying through the deserted streets, from +opposite directions. They met, panting, at the foot of the +printing-office stairs; by the night-light there they read each other's +face. Cox whispered: + +"Nobody knows about this but us?" + +The whispered answer was: + +"Not a soul--on honour, not a soul!" + +"If it isn't too late to--" + +The men were starting up-stairs; at this moment they were overtaken by a +boy, and Cox asked, + +"Is that you, Johnny?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You needn't ship the early mail--nor _any_ mail; wait till I tell you." + +"It's already gone, sir." + +"_Gone_?" It had the sound of an unspeakable disappointment in it. + +"Yes, sir. Time-table for Brixton and all the towns beyond changed to- +day, sir--had to get the papers in twenty minutes earlier than common. I +had to rush; if I had been two minutes later--" + +The men turned and walked slowly away, not waiting to hear the rest. +Neither of them spoke during ten minutes; then Cox said, in a vexed tone, + +"What possessed you to be in such a hurry, _I_ can't make out." + +The answer was humble enough: + +"I see it now, but somehow I never thought, you know, until it was too +late. But the next time--" + +"Next time be hanged! It won't come in a thousand years." + +Then the friends separated without a good-night, and dragged themselves +home with the gait of mortally stricken men. At their homes their wives +sprang up with an eager "Well?"--then saw the answer with their eyes and +sank down sorrowing, without waiting for it to come in words. In both +houses a discussion followed of a heated sort--a new thing; there had +been discussions before, but not heated ones, not ungentle ones. The +discussions to-night were a sort of seeming plagiarisms of each other. +Mrs. Richards said: + +"If you had only waited, Edward--if you had only stopped to think; but +no, you must run straight to the printing-office and spread it all over +the world." + +"It _said_ publish it." + +"That is nothing; it also said do it privately, if you liked. There, +now--is that true, or not?" + +"Why, yes--yes, it is true; but when I thought what a stir it would make, +and what a compliment it was to Hadleyburg that a stranger should trust +it so--" + +"Oh, certainly, I know all that; but if you had only stopped to think, +you would have seen that you _couldn't_ find the right man, because he is +in his grave, and hasn't left chick nor child nor relation behind him; +and as long as the money went to somebody that awfully needed it, and +nobody would be hurt by it, and--and--" + +She broke down, crying. Her husband tried to think of some comforting +thing to say, and presently came out with this: + +"But after all, Mary, it must be for the best--it must be; we know that. +And we must remember that it was so ordered--" + +"Ordered! Oh, everything's _ordered_, when a person has to find some way +out when he has been stupid. Just the same, it was _ordered_ that the +money should come to us in this special way, and it was you that must +take it on yourself to go meddling with the designs of Providence--and +who gave you the right? It was wicked, that is what it was--just +blasphemous presumption, and no more becoming to a meek and humble +professor of--" + +"But, Mary, you know how we have been trained all our lives long, like +the whole village, till it is absolutely second nature to us to stop not +a single moment to think when there's an honest thing to be done--" + +"Oh, I know it, I know it--it's been one everlasting training and +training and training in honesty--honesty shielded, from the very cradle, +against every possible temptation, and so it's _artificial_ honesty, and +weak as water when temptation comes, as we have seen this night. God +knows I never had shade nor shadow of a doubt of my petrified and +indestructible honesty until now--and now, under the very first big and +real temptation, I--Edward, it is my belief that this town's honesty is +as rotten as mine is; as rotten as yours. It is a mean town, a hard, +stingy town, and hasn't a virtue in the world but this honesty it is so +celebrated for and so conceited about; and so help me, I do believe that +if ever the day comes that its honesty falls under great temptation, its +grand reputation will go to ruin like a house of cards. There, now, I've +made confession, and I feel better; I am a humbug, and I've been one all +my life, without knowing it. Let no man call me honest again--I will not +have it." + +"I--Well, Mary, I feel a good deal as you do: I certainly do. It seems +strange, too, so strange. I never could have believed it--never." + +A long silence followed; both were sunk in thought. At last the wife +looked up and said: + +"I know what you are thinking, Edward." + +Richards had the embarrassed look of a person who is caught. + +"I am ashamed to confess it, Mary, but--" + +"It's no matter, Edward, I was thinking the same question myself." + +"I hope so. State it." + +"You were thinking, if a body could only guess out _what the remark was_ +that Goodson made to the stranger." + +"It's perfectly true. I feel guilty and ashamed. And you?" + +"I'm past it. Let us make a pallet here; we've got to stand watch till +the bank vault opens in the morning and admits the sack. . . Oh dear, oh +dear--if we hadn't made the mistake!" + +The pallet was made, and Mary said: + +"The open sesame--what could it have been? I do wonder what that remark +could have been. But come; we will get to bed now." + +"And sleep?" + +"No; think." + +"Yes; think." + +By this time the Coxes too had completed their spat and their +reconciliation, and were turning in--to think, to think, and toss, and +fret, and worry over what the remark could possibly have been which +Goodson made to the stranded derelict; that golden remark; that remark +worth forty thousand dollars, cash. + +The reason that the village telegraph-office was open later than usual +that night was this: The foreman of Cox's paper was the local +representative of the Associated Press. One might say its honorary +representative, for it wasn't four times a year that he could furnish +thirty words that would be accepted. But this time it was different. His +despatch stating what he had caught got an instant answer: + + "Send the whole thing--all the details--twelve hundred words." + +A colossal order! The foreman filled the bill; and he was the proudest +man in the State. By breakfast-time the next morning the name of +Hadleyburg the Incorruptible was on every lip in America, from Montreal +to the Gulf, from the glaciers of Alaska to the orange-groves of Florida; +and millions and millions of people were discussing the stranger and his +money-sack, and wondering if the right man would be found, and hoping +some more news about the matter would come soon--right away. + + + + +II. + + +Hadleyburg village woke up world-celebrated--astonished--happy--vain. +Vain beyond imagination. Its nineteen principal citizens and their wives +went about shaking hands with each other, and beaming, and smiling, and +congratulating, and saying _this_ thing adds a new word to the +dictionary--_Hadleyburg_, synonym for _incorruptible_--destined to live +in dictionaries for ever! And the minor and unimportant citizens and +their wives went around acting in much the same way. Everybody ran to +the bank to see the gold-sack; and before noon grieved and envious crowds +began to flock in from Brixton and all neighbouring towns; and that +afternoon and next day reporters began to arrive from everywhere to +verify the sack and its history and write the whole thing up anew, and +make dashing free-hand pictures of the sack, and of Richards's house, and +the bank, and the Presbyterian church, and the Baptist church, and the +public square, and the town-hall where the test would be applied and the +money delivered; and damnable portraits of the Richardses, and Pinkerton +the banker, and Cox, and the foreman, and Reverend Burgess, and the +postmaster--and even of Jack Halliday, who was the loafing, good-natured, +no-account, irreverent fisherman, hunter, boys' friend, stray-dogs' +friend, typical "Sam Lawson" of the town. The little mean, smirking, +oily Pinkerton showed the sack to all comers, and rubbed his sleek palms +together pleasantly, and enlarged upon the town's fine old reputation for +honesty and upon this wonderful endorsement of it, and hoped and believed +that the example would now spread far and wide over the American world, +and be epoch-making in the matter of moral regeneration. And so on, and +so on. + +By the end of a week things had quieted down again; the wild intoxication +of pride and joy had sobered to a soft, sweet, silent delight--a sort of +deep, nameless, unutterable content. All faces bore a look of peaceful, +holy happiness. + +Then a change came. It was a gradual change; so gradual that its +beginnings were hardly noticed; maybe were not noticed at all, except by +Jack Halliday, who always noticed everything; and always made fun of it, +too, no matter what it was. He began to throw out chaffing remarks about +people not looking quite so happy as they did a day or two ago; and next +he claimed that the new aspect was deepening to positive sadness; next, +that it was taking on a sick look; and finally he said that everybody was +become so moody, thoughtful, and absent-minded that he could rob the +meanest man in town of a cent out of the bottom of his breeches pocket +and not disturb his reverie. + +At this stage--or at about this stage--a saying like this was dropped at +bedtime--with a sigh, usually--by the head of each of the nineteen +principal households: + +"Ah, what _could_ have been the remark that Goodson made?" + +And straightway--with a shudder--came this, from the man's wife: + +"Oh, _don't_! What horrible thing are you mulling in your mind? Put it +away from you, for God's sake!" + +But that question was wrung from those men again the next night--and got +the same retort. But weaker. + +And the third night the men uttered the question yet again--with anguish, +and absently. This time--and the following night--the wives fidgeted +feebly, and tried to say something. But didn't. + +And the night after that they found their tongues and +responded--longingly: + +"Oh, if we _could_ only guess!" + +Halliday's comments grew daily more and more sparklingly disagreeable and +disparaging. He went diligently about, laughing at the town, +individually and in mass. But his laugh was the only one left in the +village: it fell upon a hollow and mournful vacancy and emptiness. Not +even a smile was findable anywhere. Halliday carried a cigar-box around +on a tripod, playing that it was a camera, and halted all passers and +aimed the thing and said "Ready!--now look pleasant, please," but not +even this capital joke could surprise the dreary faces into any +softening. + +So three weeks passed--one week was left. It was Saturday evening after +supper. Instead of the aforetime Saturday-evening flutter and bustle and +shopping and larking, the streets were empty and desolate. Richards and +his old wife sat apart in their little parlour--miserable and thinking. +This was become their evening habit now: the life-long habit which had +preceded it, of reading, knitting, and contented chat, or receiving or +paying neighbourly calls, was dead and gone and forgotten, ages ago--two +or three weeks ago; nobody talked now, nobody read, nobody visited--the +whole village sat at home, sighing, worrying, silent. Trying to guess +out that remark. + +The postman left a letter. Richards glanced listlessly at the +superscription and the post-mark--unfamiliar, both--and tossed the letter +on the table and resumed his might-have-beens and his hopeless dull +miseries where he had left them off. Two or three hours later his wife +got wearily up and was going away to bed without a good-night--custom +now--but she stopped near the letter and eyed it awhile with a dead +interest, then broke it open, and began to skim it over. Richards, +sitting there with his chair tilted back against the wall and his chin +between his knees, heard something fall. It was his wife. He sprang to +her side, but she cried out: + +"Leave me alone, I am too happy. Read the letter--read it!" + +He did. He devoured it, his brain reeling. The letter was from a +distant State, and it said: + + "I am a stranger to you, but no matter: I have something to tell. I + have just arrived home from Mexico, and learned about that episode. Of + course you do not know who made that remark, but I know, and I am the + only person living who does know. It was GOODSON. I knew him well, + many years ago. I passed through your village that very night, and + was his guest till the midnight train came along. I overheard him + make that remark to the stranger in the dark--it was in Hale Alley. He + and I talked of it the rest of the way home, and while smoking in his + house. He mentioned many of your villagers in the course of his + talk--most of them in a very uncomplimentary way, but two or three + favourably: among these latter yourself. I say 'favourably'--nothing + stronger. I remember his saying he did not actually LIKE any person + in the town--not one; but that you--I THINK he said you--am almost + sure--had done him a very great service once, possibly without knowing + the full value of it, and he wished he had a fortune, he would leave + it to you when he died, and a curse apiece for the rest of the + citizens. Now, then, if it was you that did him that service, you are + his legitimate heir, and entitled to the sack of gold. I know that I + can trust to your honour and honesty, for in a citizen of Hadleyburg + these virtues are an unfailing inheritance, and so I am going to + reveal to you the remark, well satisfied that if you are not the right + man you will seek and find the right one and see that poor Goodson's + debt of gratitude for the service referred to is paid. This is the + remark 'YOU ARE FAR FROM BEING A BAD MAN: GO, AND REFORM.' + + "HOWARD L. STEPHENSON." + +"Oh, Edward, the money is ours, and I am so grateful, _oh_, so +grateful,--kiss me, dear, it's for ever since we kissed--and we needed it +so--the money--and now you are free of Pinkerton and his bank, and +nobody's slave any more; it seems to me I could fly for joy." + +It was a happy half-hour that the couple spent there on the settee +caressing each other; it was the old days come again--days that had begun +with their courtship and lasted without a break till the stranger brought +the deadly money. By-and-by the wife said: + +"Oh, Edward, how lucky it was you did him that grand service, poor +Goodson! I never liked him, but I love him now. And it was fine and +beautiful of you never to mention it or brag about it." Then, with a +touch of reproach, "But you ought to have told _me_, Edward, you ought to +have told your wife, you know." + +"Well, I--er--well, Mary, you see--" + +"Now stop hemming and hawing, and tell me about it, Edward. I always +loved you, and now I'm proud of you. Everybody believes there was only +one good generous soul in this village, and now it turns out that +you--Edward, why don't you tell me?" + +"Well--er--er--Why, Mary, I can't!" + +"You _can't_? _Why_ can't you?" + +"You see, he--well, he--he made me promise I wouldn't." + +The wife looked him over, and said, very slowly: + +"Made--you--promise? Edward, what do you tell me that for?" + +"Mary, do you think I would lie?" + +She was troubled and silent for a moment, then she laid her hand within +his and said: + +"No . . . no. We have wandered far enough from our bearings--God spare +us that! In all your life you have never uttered a lie. But now--now +that the foundations of things seem to be crumbling from under us, +we--we--" She lost her voice for a moment, then said, brokenly, "Lead us +not into temptation. . . I think you made the promise, Edward. Let it +rest so. Let us keep away from that ground. Now--that is all gone by; +let us he happy again; it is no time for clouds." + +Edward found it something of an effort to comply, for his mind kept +wandering--trying to remember what the service was that he had done +Goodson. + +The couple lay awake the most of the night, Mary happy and busy, Edward +busy, but not so happy. Mary was planning what she would do with the +money. Edward was trying to recall that service. At first his +conscience was sore on account of the lie he had told Mary--if it was a +lie. After much reflection--suppose it _was_ a lie? What then? Was it +such a great matter? Aren't we always _acting_ lies? Then why not tell +them? Look at Mary--look what she had done. While he was hurrying off +on his honest errand, what was she doing? Lamenting because the papers +hadn't been destroyed and the money kept. Is theft better than lying? + +_That_ point lost its sting--the lie dropped into the background and left +comfort behind it. The next point came to the front: _had_ he rendered +that service? Well, here was Goodson's own evidence as reported in +Stephenson's letter; there could be no better evidence than that--it was +even _proof_ that he had rendered it. Of course. So that point was +settled. . . No, not quite. He recalled with a wince that this unknown +Mr. Stephenson was just a trifle unsure as to whether the performer of it +was Richards or some other--and, oh dear, he had put Richards on his +honour! He must himself decide whither that money must go--and Mr. +Stephenson was not doubting that if he was the wrong man he would go +honourably and find the right one. Oh, it was odious to put a man in +such a situation--ah, why couldn't Stephenson have left out that doubt? +What did he want to intrude that for? + +Further reflection. How did it happen that _Richards's_ name remained in +Stephenson's mind as indicating the right man, and not some other man's +name? That looked good. Yes, that looked very good. In fact it went on +looking better and better, straight along--until by-and-by it grew into +positive _proof_. And then Richards put the matter at once out of his +mind, for he had a private instinct that a proof once established is +better left so. + +He was feeling reasonably comfortable now, but there was still one other +detail that kept pushing itself on his notice: of course he had done that +service--that was settled; but what _was_ that service? He must recall +it--he would not go to sleep till he had recalled it; it would make his +peace of mind perfect. And so he thought and thought. He thought of a +dozen things--possible services, even probable services--but none of them +seemed adequate, none of them seemed large enough, none of them seemed +worth the money--worth the fortune Goodson had wished he could leave in +his will. And besides, he couldn't remember having done them, anyway. +Now, then--now, then--what _kind_ of a service would it be that would +make a man so inordinately grateful? Ah--the saving of his soul! That +must be it. Yes, he could remember, now, how he once set himself the +task of converting Goodson, and laboured at it as much as--he was going +to say three months; but upon closer examination it shrunk to a month, +then to a week, then to a day, then to nothing. Yes, he remembered now, +and with unwelcome vividness, that Goodson had told him to go to thunder +and mind his own business--_he_ wasn't hankering to follow Hadleyburg to +heaven! + +So that solution was a failure--he hadn't saved Goodson's soul. Richards +was discouraged. Then after a little came another idea: had he saved +Goodson's property? No, that wouldn't do--he hadn't any. His life? That +is it! Of course. Why, he might have thought of it before. This time +he was on the right track, sure. His imagination-mill was hard at work +in a minute, now. + +Thereafter, during a stretch of two exhausting hours, he was busy saving +Goodson's life. He saved it in all kinds of difficult and perilous ways. +In every case he got it saved satisfactorily up to a certain point; then, +just as he was beginning to get well persuaded that it had really +happened, a troublesome detail would turn up which made the whole thing +impossible. As in the matter of drowning, for instance. In that case he +had swum out and tugged Goodson ashore in an unconscious state with a +great crowd looking on and applauding, but when he had got it all thought +out and was just beginning to remember all about it, a whole swarm of +disqualifying details arrived on the ground: the town would have known of +the circumstance, Mary would have known of it, it would glare like a +limelight in his own memory instead of being an inconspicuous service +which he had possibly rendered "without knowing its full value." And at +this point he remembered that he couldn't swim anyway. + +Ah--_there_ was a point which he had been overlooking from the start: it +had to be a service which he had rendered "possibly without knowing the +full value of it." Why, really, that ought to be an easy hunt--much +easier than those others. And sure enough, by-and-by he found it. +Goodson, years and years ago, came near marrying a very sweet and pretty +girl, named Nancy Hewitt, but in some way or other the match had been +broken off; the girl died, Goodson remained a bachelor, and by-and-by +became a soured one and a frank despiser of the human species. Soon +after the girl's death the village found out, or thought it had found +out, that she carried a spoonful of negro blood in her veins. Richards +worked at these details a good while, and in the end he thought he +remembered things concerning them which must have gotten mislaid in his +memory through long neglect. He seemed to dimly remember that it was +_he_ that found out about the negro blood; that it was he that told the +village; that the village told Goodson where they got it; that he thus +saved Goodson from marrying the tainted girl; that he had done him this +great service "without knowing the full value of it," in fact without +knowing that he _was_ doing it; but that Goodson knew the value of it, +and what a narrow escape he had had, and so went to his grave grateful to +his benefactor and wishing he had a fortune to leave him. It was all +clear and simple, now, and the more he went over it the more luminous and +certain it grew; and at last, when he nestled to sleep, satisfied and +happy, he remembered the whole thing just as if it had been yesterday. In +fact, he dimly remembered Goodson's _telling_ him his gratitude once. +Meantime Mary had spent six thousand dollars on a new house for herself +and a pair of slippers for her pastor, and then had fallen peacefully to +rest. + +That same Saturday evening the postman had delivered a letter to each of +the other principal citizens--nineteen letters in all. No two of the +envelopes were alike, and no two of the superscriptions were in the same +hand, but the letters inside were just like each other in every detail +but one. They were exact copies of the letter received by +Richards--handwriting and all--and were all signed by Stephenson, but in +place of Richards's name each receiver's own name appeared. + +All night long eighteen principal citizens did what their caste-brother +Richards was doing at the same time--they put in their energies trying to +remember what notable service it was that they had unconsciously done +Barclay Goodson. In no case was it a holiday job; still they succeeded. + +And while they were at this work, which was difficult, their wives put in +the night spending the money, which was easy. During that one night the +nineteen wives spent an average of seven thousand dollars each out of the +forty thousand in the sack--a hundred and thirty-three thousand +altogether. + +Next day there was a surprise for Jack Halliday. He noticed that the +faces of the nineteen chief citizens and their wives bore that expression +of peaceful and holy happiness again. He could not understand it, +neither was he able to invent any remarks about it that could damage it +or disturb it. And so it was his turn to be dissatisfied with life. His +private guesses at the reasons for the happiness failed in all instances, +upon examination. When he met Mrs. Wilcox and noticed the placid ecstasy +in her face, he said to himself, "Her cat has had kittens"--and went and +asked the cook; it was not so, the cook had detected the happiness, but +did not know the cause. When Halliday found the duplicate ecstasy in the +face of "Shadbelly" Billson (village nickname), he was sure some +neighbour of Billson's had broken his leg, but inquiry showed that this +had not happened. The subdued ecstasy in Gregory Yates's face could mean +but one thing--he was a mother-in-law short; it was another mistake. "And +Pinkerton--Pinkerton--he has collected ten cents that he thought he was +going to lose." And so on, and so on. In some cases the guesses had to +remain in doubt, in the others they proved distinct errors. In the end +Halliday said to himself, "Anyway it roots up that there's nineteen +Hadleyburg families temporarily in heaven: I don't know how it happened; +I only know Providence is off duty to-day." + +An architect and builder from the next State had lately ventured to set +up a small business in this unpromising village, and his sign had now +been hanging out a week. Not a customer yet; he was a discouraged man, +and sorry he had come. But his weather changed suddenly now. First one +and then another chief citizen's wife said to him privately: + +"Come to my house Monday week--but say nothing about it for the present. +We think of building." + +He got eleven invitations that day. That night he wrote his daughter and +broke off her match with her student. He said she could marry a mile +higher than that. + +Pinkerton the banker and two or three other well-to-do men planned +country-seats--but waited. That kind don't count their chickens until +they are hatched. + +The Wilsons devised a grand new thing--a fancy-dress ball. They made no +actual promises, but told all their acquaintanceship in confidence that +they were thinking the matter over and thought they should give it--"and +if we do, you will be invited, of course." People were surprised, and +said, one to another, "Why, they are crazy, those poor Wilsons, they +can't afford it." Several among the nineteen said privately to their +husbands, "It is a good idea, we will keep still till their cheap thing +is over, then _we_ will give one that will make it sick." + +The days drifted along, and the bill of future squanderings rose higher +and higher, wilder and wilder, more and more foolish and reckless. It +began to look as if every member of the nineteen would not only spend his +whole forty thousand dollars before receiving-day, but be actually in +debt by the time he got the money. In some cases light-headed people did +not stop with planning to spend, they really spent--on credit. They +bought land, mortgages, farms, speculative stocks, fine clothes, horses, +and various other things, paid down the bonus, and made themselves liable +for the rest--at ten days. Presently the sober second thought came, and +Halliday noticed that a ghastly anxiety was beginning to show up in a +good many faces. Again he was puzzled, and didn't know what to make of +it. "The Wilcox kittens aren't dead, for they weren't born; nobody's +broken a leg; there's no shrinkage in mother-in-laws; _nothing_ has +happened--it is an insolvable mystery." + +There was another puzzled man, too--the Rev. Mr. Burgess. For days, +wherever he went, people seemed to follow him or to be watching out for +him; and if he ever found himself in a retired spot, a member of the +nineteen would be sure to appear, thrust an envelope privately into his +hand, whisper "To be opened at the town-hall Friday evening," then vanish +away like a guilty thing. He was expecting that there might be one +claimant for the sack--doubtful, however, Goodson being dead--but it +never occurred to him that all this crowd might be claimants. When the +great Friday came at last, he found that he had nineteen envelopes. + + + + +III. + + +The town-hall had never looked finer. The platform at the end of it was +backed by a showy draping of flags; at intervals along the walls were +festoons of flags; the gallery fronts were clothed in flags; the +supporting columns were swathed in flags; all this was to impress the +stranger, for he would be there in considerable force, and in a large +degree he would be connected with the press. The house was full. The +412 fixed seats were occupied; also the 68 extra chairs which had been +packed into the aisles; the steps of the platform were occupied; some +distinguished strangers were given seats on the platform; at the +horseshoe of tables which fenced the front and sides of the platform sat +a strong force of special correspondents who had come from everywhere. It +was the best-dressed house the town had ever produced. There were some +tolerably expensive toilets there, and in several cases the ladies who +wore them had the look of being unfamiliar with that kind of clothes. At +least the town thought they had that look, but the notion could have +arisen from the town's knowledge of the fact that these ladies had never +inhabited such clothes before. + +The gold-sack stood on a little table at the front of the platform where +all the house could see it. The bulk of the house gazed at it with a +burning interest, a mouth-watering interest, a wistful and pathetic +interest; a minority of nineteen couples gazed at it tenderly, lovingly, +proprietarily, and the male half of this minority kept saying over to +themselves the moving little impromptu speeches of thankfulness for the +audience's applause and congratulations which they were presently going +to get up and deliver. Every now and then one of these got a piece of +paper out of his vest pocket and privately glanced at it to refresh his +memory. + +Of course there was a buzz of conversation going on--there always is; but +at last, when the Rev. Mr. Burgess rose and laid his hand on the sack, he +could hear his microbes gnaw, the place was so still. He related the +curious history of the sack, then went on to speak in warm terms of +Hadleyburg's old and well-earned reputation for spotless honesty, and of +the town's just pride in this reputation. He said that this reputation +was a treasure of priceless value; that under Providence its value had +now become inestimably enhanced, for the recent episode had spread this +fame far and wide, and thus had focussed the eyes of the American world +upon this village, and made its name for all time, as he hoped and +believed, a synonym for commercial incorruptibility. [Applause.] "And +who is to be the guardian of this noble fame--the community as a whole? +No! The responsibility is individual, not communal. From this day forth +each and every one of you is in his own person its special guardian, and +individually responsible that no harm shall come to it. Do you--does +each of you--accept this great trust? [Tumultuous assent.] Then all is +well. Transmit it to your children and to your children's children. To- +day your purity is beyond reproach--see to it that it shall remain so. To- +day there is not a person in your community who could be beguiled to +touch a penny not his own--see to it that you abide in this grace. ["We +will! we will!"] This is not the place to make comparisons between +ourselves and other communities--some of them ungracious towards us; they +have their ways, we have ours; let us be content. [Applause.] I am +done. Under my hand, my friends, rests a stranger's eloquent recognition +of what we are; through him the world will always henceforth know what we +are. We do not know who he is, but in your name I utter your gratitude, +and ask you to raise your voices in indorsement." + +The house rose in a body and made the walls quake with the thunders of +its thankfulness for the space of a long minute. Then it sat down, and +Mr. Burgess took an envelope out of his pocket. The house held its +breath while he slit the envelope open and took from it a slip of paper. +He read its contents--slowly and impressively--the audience listening +with tranced attention to this magic document, each of whose words stood +for an ingot of gold: + +"'The remark which I made to the distressed stranger was this: "You are +very far from being a bad man; go, and reform."'" Then he continued:--"We +shall know in a moment now whether the remark here quoted corresponds +with the one concealed in the sack; and if that shall prove to be so--and +it undoubtedly will--this sack of gold belongs to a fellow-citizen who +will henceforth stand before the nation as the symbol of the special +virtue which has made our town famous throughout the land--Mr. Billson!" + +The house had gotten itself all ready to burst into the proper tornado of +applause; but instead of doing it, it seemed stricken with a paralysis; +there was a deep hush for a moment or two, then a wave of whispered +murmurs swept the place--of about this tenor: "_Billson_! oh, come, this +is _too_ thin! Twenty dollars to a stranger--or _anybody_--_Billson_! +Tell it to the marines!" And now at this point the house caught its +breath all of a sudden in a new access of astonishment, for it discovered +that whereas in one part of the hall Deacon Billson was standing up with +his head weekly bowed, in another part of it Lawyer Wilson was doing the +same. There was a wondering silence now for a while. Everybody was +puzzled, and nineteen couples were surprised and indignant. + +Billson and Wilson turned and stared at each other. Billson asked, +bitingly: + +"Why do _you_ rise, Mr. Wilson?" + +"Because I have a right to. Perhaps you will be good enough to explain +to the house why _you_ rise." + +"With great pleasure. Because I wrote that paper." + +"It is an impudent falsity! I wrote it myself." + +It was Burgess's turn to be paralysed. He stood looking vacantly at +first one of the men and then the other, and did not seem to know what to +do. The house was stupefied. Lawyer Wilson spoke up now, and said: + +"I ask the Chair to read the name signed to that paper." + +That brought the Chair to itself, and it read out the name: + +"John Wharton _Billson_." + +"There!" shouted Billson, "what have you got to say for yourself now? And +what kind of apology are you going to make to me and to this insulted +house for the imposture which you have attempted to play here?" + +"No apologies are due, sir; and as for the rest of it, I publicly charge +you with pilfering my note from Mr. Burgess and substituting a copy of it +signed with your own name. There is no other way by which you could have +gotten hold of the test-remark; I alone, of living men, possessed the +secret of its wording." + +There was likely to be a scandalous state of things if this went on; +everybody noticed with distress that the shorthand scribes were +scribbling like mad; many people were crying "Chair, chair! Order! +order!" Burgess rapped with his gavel, and said: + +"Let us not forget the proprieties due. There has evidently been a +mistake somewhere, but surely that is all. If Mr. Wilson gave me an +envelope--and I remember now that he did--I still have it." + +He took one out of his pocket, opened it, glanced at it, looked surprised +and worried, and stood silent a few moments. Then he waved his hand in a +wandering and mechanical way, and made an effort or two to say something, +then gave it up, despondently. Several voices cried out: + +"Read it! read it! What is it?" + +So he began, in a dazed and sleep-walker fashion: + +"'The remark which I made to the unhappy stranger was this: "You are far +from being a bad man. [The house gazed at him marvelling.] Go, and +reform."' [Murmurs: "Amazing! what can this mean?"] This one," said the +Chair, "is signed Thurlow G. Wilson." + +"There!" cried Wilson, "I reckon that settles it! I knew perfectly well +my note was purloined." + +"Purloined!" retorted Billson. "I'll let you know that neither you nor +any man of your kidney must venture to--" + +The Chair: "Order, gentlemen, order! Take your seats, both of you, +please." + +They obeyed, shaking their heads and grumbling angrily. The house was +profoundly puzzled; it did not know what to do with this curious +emergency. Presently Thompson got up. Thompson was the hatter. He +would have liked to be a Nineteener; but such was not for him; his stock +of hats was not considerable enough for the position. He said: + +"Mr. Chairman, if I may be permitted to make a suggestion, can both of +these gentlemen be right? I put it to you, sir, can both have happened +to say the very same words to the stranger? It seems to me--" + +The tanner got up and interrupted him. The tanner was a disgruntled man; +he believed himself entitled to be a Nineteener, but he couldn't get +recognition. It made him a little unpleasant in his ways and speech. +Said he: + +"Sho, _that's_ not the point! _That_ could happen--twice in a hundred +years--but not the other thing. _Neither_ of them gave the twenty +dollars!" [A ripple of applause.] + +Billson. "I did!" + +Wilson. "I did!" + +Then each accused the other of pilfering. + +The Chair. "Order! Sit down, if you please--both of you. Neither of +the notes has been out of my possession at any moment." + +A Voice. "Good--that settles _that_!" + +The Tanner. "Mr. Chairman, one thing is now plain: one of these men has +been eavesdropping under the other one's bed, and filching family +secrets. If it is not unparliamentary to suggest it, I will remark that +both are equal to it. [The Chair. "Order! order!"] I withdraw the +remark, sir, and will confine myself to suggesting that _if_ one of them +has overheard the other reveal the test-remark to his wife, we shall +catch him now." + +A Voice. "How?" + +The Tanner. "Easily. The two have not quoted the remark in exactly the +same words. You would have noticed that, if there hadn't been a +considerable stretch of time and an exciting quarrel inserted between the +two readings." + +A Voice. "Name the difference." + +The Tanner. "The word _very_ is in Billson's note, and not in the +other." + +Many Voices. "That's so--he's right!" + +The Tanner. "And so, if the Chair will examine the test-remark in the +sack, we shall know which of these two frauds--[The Chair. +"Order!"]--which of these two adventurers--[The Chair. "Order! +order!"]--which of these two gentlemen--[laughter and applause]--is +entitled to wear the belt as being the first dishonest blatherskite ever +bred in this town--which he has dishonoured, and which will be a sultry +place for him from now out!" [Vigorous applause.] + +Many Voices. "Open it!--open the sack!" + +Mr. Burgess made a slit in the sack, slid his hand in, and brought out an +envelope. In it were a couple of folded notes. He said: + +"One of these is marked, 'Not to be examined until all written +communications which have been addressed to the Chair--if any--shall have +been read.' The other is marked '_The Test_.' Allow me. It is +worded--to wit: + +"'I do not require that the first half of the remark which was made to me +by my benefactor shall be quoted with exactness, for it was not striking, +and could be forgotten; but its closing fifteen words are quite striking, +and I think easily rememberable; unless _these_ shall be accurately +reproduced, let the applicant be regarded as an impostor. My benefactor +began by saying he seldom gave advice to anyone, but that it always bore +the hall-mark of high value when he did give it. Then he said this--and +it has never faded from my memory: '_You are far from being a bad +man_--''" + +Fifty Voices. "That settles it--the money's Wilson's! Wilson! Wilson! +Speech! Speech!" + +People jumped up and crowded around Wilson, wringing his hand and +congratulating fervently--meantime the Chair was hammering with the gavel +and shouting: + +"Order, gentlemen! Order! Order! Let me finish reading, please." When +quiet was restored, the reading was resumed--as follows: + +"'_Go, and reform--or, mark my words--some day, for your sins you will +die and go to hell or Hadleyburg_--TRY AND MAKE IT THE FORMER.'" + +A ghastly silence followed. First an angry cloud began to settle darkly +upon the faces of the citizenship; after a pause the cloud began to rise, +and a tickled expression tried to take its place; tried so hard that it +was only kept under with great and painful difficulty; the reporters, the +Brixtonites, and other strangers bent their heads down and shielded their +faces with their hands, and managed to hold in by main strength and +heroic courtesy. At this most inopportune time burst upon the stillness +the roar of a solitary voice--Jack Halliday's: + +"_That's_ got the hall-mark on it!" + +Then the house let go, strangers and all. Even Mr. Burgess's gravity +broke down presently, then the audience considered itself officially +absolved from all restraint, and it made the most of its privilege. It +was a good long laugh, and a tempestuously wholehearted one, but it +ceased at last--long enough for Mr. Burgess to try to resume, and for the +people to get their eyes partially wiped; then it broke out again, and +afterward yet again; then at last Burgess was able to get out these +serious words: + +"It is useless to try to disguise the fact--we find ourselves in the +presence of a matter of grave import. It involves the honour of your +town--it strikes at the town's good name. The difference of a single +word between the test-remarks offered by Mr. Wilson and Mr. Billson was +itself a serious thing, since it indicated that one or the other of these +gentlemen had committed a theft--" + +The two men were sitting limp, nerveless, crushed; but at these words +both were electrified into movement, and started to get up. + +"Sit down!" said the Chair, sharply, and they obeyed. "That, as I have +said, was a serious thing. And it was--but for only one of them. But +the matter has become graver; for the honour of _both_ is now in +formidable peril. Shall I go even further, and say in inextricable +peril? _Both_ left out the crucial fifteen words." He paused. During +several moments he allowed the pervading stillness to gather and deepen +its impressive effects, then added: "There would seem to be but one way +whereby this could happen. I ask these gentlemen--Was there +_collusion_?--_agreement_?" + +A low murmur sifted through the house; its import was, "He's got them +both." + +Billson was not used to emergencies; he sat in a helpless collapse. But +Wilson was a lawyer. He struggled to his feet, pale and worried, and +said: + +"I ask the indulgence of the house while I explain this most painful +matter. I am sorry to say what I am about to say, since it must inflict +irreparable injury upon Mr. Billson, whom I have always esteemed and +respected until now, and in whose invulnerability to temptation I +entirely believed--as did you all. But for the preservation of my own +honour I must speak--and with frankness. I confess with shame--and I now +beseech your pardon for it--that I said to the ruined stranger all of the +words contained in the test-remark, including the disparaging fifteen. +[Sensation.] When the late publication was made I recalled them, and I +resolved to claim the sack of coin, for by every right I was entitled to +it. Now I will ask you to consider this point, and weigh it well; that +stranger's gratitude to me that night knew no bounds; he said himself +that he could find no words for it that were adequate, and that if he +should ever be able he would repay me a thousandfold. Now, then, I ask +you this; could I expect--could I believe--could I even remotely +imagine--that, feeling as he did, he would do so ungrateful a thing as to +add those quite unnecessary fifteen words to his test?--set a trap for +me?--expose me as a slanderer of my own town before my own people +assembled in a public hall? It was preposterous; it was impossible. His +test would contain only the kindly opening clause of my remark. Of that +I had no shadow of doubt. You would have thought as I did. You would +not have expected a base betrayal from one whom you had befriended and +against whom you had committed no offence. And so with perfect +confidence, perfect trust, I wrote on a piece of paper the opening +words--ending with "Go, and reform,"--and signed it. When I was about to +put it in an envelope I was called into my back office, and without +thinking I left the paper lying open on my desk." He stopped, turned his +head slowly toward Billson, waited a moment, then added: "I ask you to +note this; when I returned, a little latter, Mr. Billson was retiring by +my street door." [Sensation.] + +In a moment Billson was on his feet and shouting: + +"It's a lie! It's an infamous lie!" + +The Chair. "Be seated, sir! Mr. Wilson has the floor." + +Billson's friends pulled him into his seat and quieted him, and Wilson +went on: + +"Those are the simple facts. My note was now lying in a different place +on the table from where I had left it. I noticed that, but attached no +importance to it, thinking a draught had blown it there. That Mr. +Billson would read a private paper was a thing which could not occur to +me; he was an honourable man, and he would be above that. If you will +allow me to say it, I think his extra word '_very_' stands explained: it +is attributable to a defect of memory. I was the only man in the world +who could furnish here any detail of the test-mark--by _honourable_ +means. I have finished." + +There is nothing in the world like a persuasive speech to fuddle the +mental apparatus and upset the convictions and debauch the emotions of an +audience not practised in the tricks and delusions of oratory. Wilson +sat down victorious. The house submerged him in tides of approving +applause; friends swarmed to him and shook him by the hand and +congratulated him, and Billson was shouted down and not allowed to say a +word. The Chair hammered and hammered with its gavel, and kept shouting: + +"But let us proceed, gentlemen, let us proceed!" + +At last there was a measurable degree of quiet, and the hatter said: + +"But what is there to proceed with, sir, but to deliver the money?" + +Voices. "That's it! That's it! Come forward, Wilson!" + +The Hatter. "I move three cheers for Mr. Wilson, Symbol of the special +virtue which--" + +The cheers burst forth before he could finish; and in the midst of +them--and in the midst of the clamour of the gavel also--some enthusiasts +mounted Wilson on a big friend's shoulder and were going to fetch him in +triumph to the platform. The Chair's voice now rose above the noise: + +"Order! To your places! You forget that there is still a document to be +read." When quiet had been restored he took up the document, and was +going to read it, but laid it down again saying "I forgot; this is not to +be read until all written communications received by me have first been +read." He took an envelope out of his pocket, removed its enclosure, +glanced at it--seemed astonished--held it out and gazed at it--stared at +it. + +Twenty or thirty voices cried out + +"What is it? Read it! read it!" + +And he did--slowly, and wondering: + +"'The remark which I made to the stranger--[Voices. "Hello! how's +this?"]--was this: 'You are far from being a bad man. [Voices. "Great +Scott!"] Go, and reform.'" [Voice. "Oh, saw my leg off!"] Signed by +Mr. Pinkerton the banker." + +The pandemonium of delight which turned itself loose now was of a sort to +make the judicious weep. Those whose withers were unwrung laughed till +the tears ran down; the reporters, in throes of laughter, set down +disordered pot-hooks which would never in the world be decipherable; and +a sleeping dog jumped up scared out of its wits, and barked itself crazy +at the turmoil. All manner of cries were scattered through the din: +"We're getting rich--_two_ Symbols of Incorruptibility!--without counting +Billson!" "_Three_!--count Shadbelly in--we can't have too many!" "All +right--Billson's elected!" "Alas, poor Wilson! victim of _two_ thieves!" + +A Powerful Voice. "Silence! The Chair's fished up something more out of +its pocket." + +Voices. "Hurrah! Is it something fresh? Read it! read! read!" + +The Chair [reading]. "'The remark which I made,' etc. 'You are far from +being a bad man. Go,' etc. Signed, 'Gregory Yates.'" + +Tornado of Voices. "Four Symbols!" "'Rah for Yates!" "Fish again!" + +The house was in a roaring humour now, and ready to get all the fun out +of the occasion that might be in it. Several Nineteeners, looking pale +and distressed, got up and began to work their way towards the aisles, +but a score of shouts went up: + +"The doors, the doors--close the doors; no Incorruptible shall leave this +place! Sit down, everybody!" The mandate was obeyed. + +"Fish again! Read! read!" + +The Chair fished again, and once more the familiar words began to fall +from its lips--"'You are far from being a bad man--'" + +"Name! name! What's his name?" + +"'L. Ingoldsby Sargent.'" + +"Five elected! Pile up the Symbols! Go on, go on!" + +"'You are far from being a bad--'" + +"Name! name!" + +"'Nicholas Whitworth.'" + +"Hooray! hooray! it's a symbolical day!" + +Somebody wailed in, and began to sing this rhyme (leaving out "it's") to +the lovely "Mikado" tune of "When a man's afraid of a beautiful maid;" +the audience joined in, with joy; then, just in time, somebody +contributed another line-- + + "And don't you this forget--" + +The house roared it out. A third line was at once furnished-- + + "Corruptibles far from Hadleyburg are--" + +The house roared that one too. As the last note died, Jack Halliday's +voice rose high and clear, freighted with a final line-- + + "But the Symbols are here, you bet!" + +That was sung, with booming enthusiasm. Then the happy house started in +at the beginning and sang the four lines through twice, with immense +swing and dash, and finished up with a crashing three-times-three and a +tiger for "Hadleyburg the Incorruptible and all Symbols of it which we +shall find worthy to receive the hall-mark to-night." + +Then the shoutings at the Chair began again, all over the place: + +"Go on! go on! Read! read some more! Read all you've got!" + +"That's it--go on! We are winning eternal celebrity!" + +A dozen men got up now and began to protest. They said that this farce +was the work of some abandoned joker, and was an insult to the whole +community. Without a doubt these signatures were all forgeries-- + +"Sit down! sit down! Shut up! You are confessing. We'll find your +names in the lot." + +"Mr. Chairman, how many of those envelopes have you got?" + +The Chair counted. + +"Together with those that have been already examined, there are +nineteen." + +A storm of derisive applause broke out. + +"Perhaps they all contain the secret. I move that you open them all and +read every signature that is attached to a note of that sort--and read +also the first eight words of the note." + +"Second the motion!" + +It was put and carried--uproariously. Then poor old Richards got up, and +his wife rose and stood at his side. Her head was bent down, so that +none might see that she was crying. Her husband gave her his arm, and so +supporting her, he began to speak in a quavering voice: + +"My friends, you have known us two--Mary and me--all our lives, and I +think you have liked us and respected us--" + +The Chair interrupted him: + +"Allow me. It is quite true--that which you are saying, Mr. Richards; +this town _does_ know you two; it _does_ like you; it _does_ respect you; +more--it honours you and _loves_ you--" + +Halliday's voice rang out: + +"That's the hall-marked truth, too! If the Chair is right, let the house +speak up and say it. Rise! Now, then--hip! hip! hip!--all together!" + +The house rose in mass, faced toward the old couple eagerly, filled the +air with a snow-storm of waving handkerchiefs, and delivered the cheers +with all its affectionate heart. + +The Chair then continued: + +"What I was going to say is this: We know your good heart, Mr. Richards, +but this is not a time for the exercise of charity toward offenders. +[Shouts of "Right! right!"] I see your generous purpose in your face, +but I cannot allow you to plead for these men--" + +"But I was going to--" + +"Please take your seat, Mr. Richards. We must examine the rest of these +notes--simple fairness to the men who have already been exposed requires +this. As soon as that has been done--I give you my word for this--you +shall he heard." + +Many voices. "Right!--the Chair is right--no interruption can be +permitted at this stage! Go on!--the names! the names!--according to the +terms of the motion!" + +The old couple sat reluctantly down, and the husband whispered to the +wife, "It is pitifully hard to have to wait; the shame will be greater +than ever when they find we were only going to plead for _ourselves_." + +Straightway the jollity broke loose again with the reading of the names. + +"'You are far from being a bad man--' Signature, 'Robert J. Titmarsh.'" + +'"You are far from being a bad man--' Signature, 'Eliphalet Weeks.'" + +"'You are far from being a bad man--' Signature, 'Oscar B. Wilder.'" + +At this point the house lit upon the idea of taking the eight words out +of the Chairman's hands. He was not unthankful for that. Thenceforward +he held up each note in its turn and waited. The house droned out the +eight words in a massed and measured and musical deep volume of sound +(with a daringly close resemblance to a well-known church chant)--"You +are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-a-d man." Then the Chair said, "Signature, +'Archibald Wilcox.'" And so on, and so on, name after name, and +everybody had an increasingly and gloriously good time except the +wretched Nineteen. Now and then, when a particularly shining name was +called, the house made the Chair wait while it chanted the whole of the +test-remark from the beginning to the closing words, "And go to hell or +Hadleyburg--try and make it the for-or-m-e-r!" and in these special cases +they added a grand and agonised and imposing "A-a-a-a-_men_!" + +The list dwindled, dwindled, dwindled, poor old Richards keeping tally of +the count, wincing when a name resembling his own was pronounced, and +waiting in miserable suspense for the time to come when it would be his +humiliating privilege to rise with Mary and finish his plea, which he was +intending to word thus: ". . . for until now we have never done any wrong +thing, but have gone our humble way unreproached. We are very poor, we +are old, and, have no chick nor child to help us; we were sorely tempted, +and we fell. It was my purpose when I got up before to make confession +and beg that my name might not be read out in this public place, for it +seemed to us that we could not bear it; but I was prevented. It was +just; it was our place to suffer with the rest. It has been hard for us. +It is the first time we have ever heard our name fall from any one's +lips--sullied. Be merciful--for the sake or the better days; make our +shame as light to bear as in your charity you can." At this point in his +reverie Mary nudged him, perceiving that his mind was absent. The house +was chanting, "You are f-a-r," etc. + +"Be ready," Mary whispered. "Your name comes now; he has read eighteen." + +The chant ended. + +"Next! next! next!" came volleying from all over the house. + +Burgess put his hand into his pocket. The old couple, trembling, began +to rise. Burgess fumbled a moment, then said: + +"I find I have read them all." + +Faint with joy and surprise, the couple sank into their seats, and Mary +whispered: + +"Oh, bless God, we are saved!--he has lost ours--I wouldn't give this for +a hundred of those sacks!" + +The house burst out with its "Mikado" travesty, and sang it three times +with ever-increasing enthusiasm, rising to its feet when it reached for +the third time the closing line-- + + "But the Symbols are here, you bet!" + +and finishing up with cheers and a tiger for "Hadleyburg purity and our +eighteen immortal representatives of it." + +Then Wingate, the saddler, got up and proposed cheers "for the cleanest +man in town, the one solitary important citizen in it who didn't try to +steal that money--Edward Richards." + +They were given with great and moving heartiness; then somebody proposed +that "Richards be elected sole Guardian and Symbol of the now Sacred +Hadleyburg Tradition, with power and right to stand up and look the whole +sarcastic world in the face." + +Passed, by acclamation; then they sang the "Mikado" again, and ended it +with-- + + "And there's _one_ Symbol left, you bet!" + +There was a pause; then-- + +A Voice. "Now, then, who's to get the sack?" + +The Tanner (with bitter sarcasm). "That's easy. The money has to be +divided among the eighteen Incorruptibles. They gave the suffering +stranger twenty dollars apiece--and that remark--each in his turn--it +took twenty-two minutes for the procession to move past. Staked the +stranger--total contribution, $360. All they want is just the loan +back--and interest--forty thousand dollars altogether." + +Many Voices [derisively.] "That's it! Divvy! divvy! Be kind to the +poor--don't keep them waiting!" + +The Chair. "Order! I now offer the stranger's remaining document. It +says: 'If no claimant shall appear [grand chorus of groans], I desire +that you open the sack and count out the money to the principal citizens +of your town, they to take it in trust [Cries of "Oh! Oh! Oh!"], and use +it in such ways as to them shall seem best for the propagation and +preservation of your community's noble reputation for incorruptible +honesty [more cries]--a reputation to which their names and their efforts +will add a new and far-reaching lustre." [Enthusiastic outburst of +sarcastic applause.] That seems to be all. No--here is a postscript: + +"'P.S.--CITIZENS OF HADLEYBURG: There _is_ no test-remark--nobody made +one. [Great sensation.] There wasn't any pauper stranger, nor any +twenty-dollar contribution, nor any accompanying benediction and +compliment--these are all inventions. [General buzz and hum of +astonishment and delight.] Allow me to tell my story--it will take but a +word or two. I passed through your town at a certain time, and received +a deep offence which I had not earned. Any other man would have been +content to kill one or two of you and call it square, but to me that +would have been a trivial revenge, and inadequate; for the dead do not +_suffer_. Besides I could not kill you all--and, anyway, made as I am, +even that would not have satisfied me. I wanted to damage every man in +the place, and every woman--and not in their bodies or in their estate, +but in their vanity--the place where feeble and foolish people are most +vulnerable. So I disguised myself and came back and studied you. You +were easy game. You had an old and lofty reputation for honesty, and +naturally you were proud of it--it was your treasure of treasures, the +very apple of your eye. As soon as I found out that you carefully and +vigilantly kept yourselves and your children _out of temptation_, I knew +how to proceed. Why, you simple creatures, the weakest of all weak +things is a virtue which has not been tested in the fire. I laid a plan, +and gathered a list of names. My project was to corrupt Hadleyburg the +Incorruptible. My idea was to make liars and thieves of nearly half a +hundred smirchless men and women who had never in their lives uttered a +lie or stolen a penny. I was afraid of Goodson. He was neither born nor +reared in Hadleyburg. I was afraid that if I started to operate my +scheme by getting my letter laid before you, you would say to yourselves, +'Goodson is the only man among us who would give away twenty dollars to a +poor devil'--and then you might not bite at my bait. But heaven took +Goodson; then I knew I was safe, and I set my trap and baited it. It may +be that I shall not catch all the men to whom I mailed the pretended test- +secret, but I shall catch the most of them, if I know Hadleyburg nature. +[Voices. "Right--he got every last one of them."] I believe they will +even steal ostensible _gamble_-money, rather than miss, poor, tempted, +and mistrained fellows. I am hoping to eternally and everlastingly +squelch your vanity and give Hadleyburg a new renown--one that will +_stick_--and spread far. If I have succeeded, open the sack and summon +the Committee on Propagation and Preservation of the Hadleyburg +Reputation.'" + +A Cyclone of Voices. "Open it! Open it! The Eighteen to the front! +Committee on Propagation of the Tradition! Forward--the Incorruptibles!" + +The Chair ripped the sack wide, and gathered up a handful of bright, +broad, yellow coins, shook them together, then examined them. + +"Friends, they are only gilded disks of lead!" + +There was a crashing outbreak of delight over this news, and when the +noise had subsided, the tanner called out: + +"By right of apparent seniority in this business, Mr. Wilson is Chairman +of the Committee on Propagation of the Tradition. I suggest that he step +forward on behalf of his pals, and receive in trust the money." + +A Hundred Voices. "Wilson! Wilson! Wilson! Speech! Speech!" + +Wilson [in a voice trembling with anger]. "You will allow me to say, and +without apologies for my language, _damn_ the money!" + +A Voice. "Oh, and him a Baptist!" + +A Voice. "Seventeen Symbols left! Step up, gentlemen, and assume your +trust!" + +There was a pause--no response. + +The Saddler. "Mr. Chairman, we've got _one_ clean man left, anyway, out +of the late aristocracy; and he needs money, and deserves it. I move +that you appoint Jack Halliday to get up there and auction off that sack +of gilt twenty-dollar pieces, and give the result to the right man--the +man whom Hadleyburg delights to honour--Edward Richards." + +This was received with great enthusiasm, the dog taking a hand again; the +saddler started the bids at a dollar, the Brixton folk and Barnum's +representative fought hard for it, the people cheered every jump that the +bids made, the excitement climbed moment by moment higher and higher, the +bidders got on their mettle and grew steadily more and more daring, more +and more determined, the jumps went from a dollar up to five, then to +ten, then to twenty, then fifty, then to a hundred, then-- + +At the beginning of the auction Richards whispered in distress to his +wife: "Oh, Mary, can we allow it? It--it--you see, it is an +honour--reward, a testimonial to purity of character, and--and--can we +allow it? Hadn't I better get up and--Oh, Mary, what ought we to +do?--what do you think we--" [Halliday's voice. "Fifteen I'm +bid!--fifteen for the sack!--twenty!--ah, thanks!--thirty--thanks again! +Thirty, thirty, thirty!--do I hear forty?--forty it is! Keep the ball +rolling, gentlemen, keep it rolling!--fifty!--thanks, noble Roman!--going +at fifty, fifty, fifty!--seventy!--ninety!--splendid!--a hundred!--pile +it up, pile it up!--hundred and twenty--forty!--just in time!--hundred +and fifty!--Two hundred!--superb! Do I hear two h--thanks!--two hundred +and fifty!--"] + +"It is another temptation, Edward--I'm all in a tremble--but, oh, we've +escaped one temptation, and that ought to warn us, to--["Six did I +hear?--thanks!--six fifty, six f--SEVEN hundred!"] And yet, Edward, when +you think--nobody susp--["Eight hundred dollars!--hurrah!--make it +nine!--Mr. Parsons, did I hear you say--thanks!--nine!--this noble sack +of virgin lead going at only nine hundred dollars, gilding and all--come! +do I hear--a thousand!--gratefully yours!--did some one say eleven?--a +sack which is going to be the most celebrated in the whole Uni--"] "Oh, +Edward" (beginning to sob), "we are so poor!--but--but--do as you think +best--do as you think best." + +Edward fell--that is, he sat still; sat with a conscience which was not +satisfied, but which was overpowered by circumstances. + +Meantime a stranger, who looked like an amateur detective gotten up as an +impossible English earl, had been watching the evening's proceedings with +manifest interest, and with a contented expression in his face; and he +had been privately commenting to himself. He was now soliloquising +somewhat like this: "None of the Eighteen are bidding; that is not +satisfactory; I must change that--the dramatic unities require it; they +must buy the sack they tried to steal; they must pay a heavy price, +too--some of them are rich. And another thing, when I make a mistake in +Hadleyburg nature the man that puts that error upon me is entitled to a +high honorarium, and some one must pay. This poor old Richards has +brought my judgment to shame; he is an honest man:--I don't understand +it, but I acknowledge it. Yes, he saw my deuces--_and_ with a straight +flush, and by rights the pot is his. And it shall be a jack-pot, too, if +I can manage it. He disappointed me, but let that pass." + +He was watching the bidding. At a thousand, the market broke: the prices +tumbled swiftly. He waited--and still watched. One competitor dropped +out; then another, and another. He put in a bid or two now. When the +bids had sunk to ten dollars, he added a five; some one raised him a +three; he waited a moment, then flung in a fifty-dollar jump, and the +sack was his--at $1,282. The house broke out in cheers--then stopped; +for he was on his feet, and had lifted his hand. He began to speak. + +"I desire to say a word, and ask a favour. I am a speculator in +rarities, and I have dealings with persons interested in numismatics all +over the world. I can make a profit on this purchase, just as it stands; +but there is a way, if I can get your approval, whereby I can make every +one of these leaden twenty-dollar pieces worth its face in gold, and +perhaps more. Grant me that approval, and I will give part of my gains +to your Mr. Richards, whose invulnerable probity you have so justly and +so cordially recognised to-night; his share shall be ten thousand +dollars, and I will hand him the money to-morrow. [Great applause from +the house. But the "invulnerable probity" made the Richardses blush +prettily; however, it went for modesty, and did no harm.] If you will +pass my proposition by a good majority--I would like a two-thirds vote--I +will regard that as the town's consent, and that is all I ask. Rarities +are always helped by any device which will rouse curiosity and compel +remark. Now if I may have your permission to stamp upon the faces of +each of these ostensible coins the names of the eighteen gentlemen who--" + +Nine-tenths of the audience were on their feet in a moment--dog and +all--and the proposition was carried with a whirlwind of approving +applause and laughter. + +They sat down, and all the Symbols except "Dr." Clay Harkness got up, +violently protesting against the proposed outrage, and threatening to-- + +"I beg you not to threaten me," said the stranger calmly. "I know my +legal rights, and am not accustomed to being frightened at bluster." +[Applause.] He sat down. "Dr." Harkness saw an opportunity here. He +was one of the two very rich men of the place, and Pinkerton was the +other. Harkness was proprietor of a mint; that is to say, a popular +patent medicine. He was running for the Legislature on one ticket, and +Pinkerton on the other. It was a close race and a hot one, and getting +hotter every day. Both had strong appetites for money; each had bought a +great tract of land, with a purpose; there was going to be a new railway, +and each wanted to be in the Legislature and help locate the route to his +own advantage; a single vote might make the decision, and with it two or +three fortunes. The stake was large, and Harkness was a daring +speculator. He was sitting close to the stranger. He leaned over while +one or another of the other Symbols was entertaining the house with +protests and appeals, and asked, in a whisper, + +"What is your price for the sack?" + +"Forty thousand dollars." + +"I'll give you twenty." + +"No." + +"Twenty-five." + +"No." + +"Say thirty." + +"The price is forty thousand dollars; not a penny less." + +"All right, I'll give it. I will come to the hotel at ten in the +morning. I don't want it known; will see you privately." + +"Very good." Then the stranger got up and said to the house: + +"I find it late. The speeches of these gentlemen are not without merit, +not without interest, not without grace; yet if I may he excused I will +take my leave. I thank you for the great favour which you have shown me +in granting my petition. I ask the Chair to keep the sack for me until +to-morrow, and to hand these three five-hundred-dollar notes to Mr. +Richards." They were passed up to the Chair. + +"At nine I will call for the sack, and at eleven will deliver the rest of +the ten thousand to Mr. Richards in person at his home. Good-night." + +Then he slipped out, and left the audience making a vast noise, which was +composed of a mixture of cheers, the "Mikado" song, dog-disapproval, and +the chant, "You are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-d man--a-a-a a-men!" + + + + +IV. + + +At home the Richardses had to endure congratulations and compliments +until midnight. Then they were left to themselves. They looked a little +sad, and they sat silent and thinking. Finally Mary sighed and said: + +"Do you think we are to blame, Edward--_much_ to blame?" and her eyes +wandered to the accusing triplet of big bank-notes lying on the table, +where the congratulators had been gloating over them and reverently +fingering them. Edward did not answer at once; then he brought out a +sigh and said, hesitatingly: + +"We--we couldn't help it, Mary. It--well it was ordered. _All_ things +are." + +Mary glanced up and looked at him steadily, but he didn't return the +look. Presently she said: + +"I thought congratulations and praises always tasted good. But--it seems +to me, now--Edward?" + +"Well?" + +"Are you going to stay in the bank?" + +"N--no." + +"Resign?" + +"In the morning--by note." + +"It does seem best." + +Richards bowed his head in his hands and muttered: + +"Before I was not afraid to let oceans of people's money pour through my +hands, but--Mary, I am so tired, so tired--" + +"We will go to bed." + +At nine in the morning the stranger called for the sack and took it to +the hotel in a cab. At ten Harkness had a talk with him privately. The +stranger asked for and got five cheques on a metropolitan bank--drawn to +"Bearer,"--four for $1,500 each, and one for $34,000. He put one of the +former in his pocket-book, and the remainder, representing $38,500, he +put in an envelope, and with these he added a note which he wrote after +Harkness was gone. At eleven he called at the Richards' house and +knocked. Mrs. Richards peeped through the shutters, then went and +received the envelope, and the stranger disappeared without a word. She +came back flushed and a little unsteady on her legs, and gasped out: + +"I am sure I recognised him! Last night it seemed to me that maybe I had +seen him somewhere before." + +"He is the man that brought the sack here?" + +"I am almost sure of it." + +"Then he is the ostensible Stephenson too, and sold every important +citizen in this town with his bogus secret. Now if he has sent cheques +instead of money, we are sold too, after we thought we had escaped. I +was beginning to feel fairly comfortable once more, after my night's +rest, but the look of that envelope makes me sick. It isn't fat enough; +$8,500 in even the largest bank-notes makes more bulk than that." + +"Edward, why do you object to cheques?" + +"Cheques signed by Stephenson! I am resigned to take the $8,500 if it +could come in bank-notes--for it does seem that it was so ordered, +Mary--but I have never had much courage, and I have not the pluck to try +to market a cheque signed with that disastrous name. It would be a trap. +That man tried to catch me; we escaped somehow or other; and now he is +trying a new way. If it is cheques--" + +"Oh, Edward, it is _too_ bad!" And she held up the cheques and began to +cry. + +"Put them in the fire! quick! we mustn't be tempted. It is a trick to +make the world laugh at _us_, along with the rest, and--Give them to +_me_, since you can't do it!" He snatched them and tried to hold his +grip till he could get to the stove; but he was human, he was a cashier, +and he stopped a moment to make sure of the signature. Then he came near +to fainting. + +"Fan me, Mary, fan me! They are the same as gold!" + +"Oh, how lovely, Edward! Why?" + +"Signed by Harkness. What can the mystery of that be, Mary?" + +"Edward, do you think--" + +"Look here--look at this! Fifteen--fifteen--fifteen--thirty-four. Thirty- +eight thousand five hundred! Mary, the sack isn't worth twelve dollars, +and Harkness--apparently--has paid about par for it." + +"And does it all come to us, do you think--instead of the ten thousand?" + +"Why, it looks like it. And the cheques are made to 'Bearer,' too." + +"Is that good, Edward? What is it for?" + +"A hint to collect them at some distant bank, I reckon. Perhaps Harkness +doesn't want the matter known. What is that--a note?" + +"Yes. It was with the cheques." + +It was in the "Stephenson" handwriting, but there was no signature. It +said: + + "I am a disappointed man. Your honesty is beyond the reach of + temptation. I had a different idea about it, but I wronged you in + that, and I beg pardon, and do it sincerely. I honour you--and that + is sincere too. This town is not worthy to kiss the hem of your + garment. Dear sir, I made a square bet with myself that there were + nineteen debauchable men in your self-righteous community. I have + lost. Take the whole pot, you are entitled to it." + +Richards drew a deep sigh, and said: + +"It seems written with fire--it burns so. Mary--I am miserable again." + +"I, too. Ah, dear, I wish--" + +"To think, Mary--he _believes_ in me." + + +"Oh, don't, Edward--I can't bear it." + +"If those beautiful words were deserved, Mary--and God knows I believed I +deserved them once--I think I could give the forty thousand dollars for +them. And I would put that paper away, as representing more than gold +and jewels, and keep it always. But now--We could not live in the shadow +of its accusing presence, Mary." + +He put it in the fire. + +A messenger arrived and delivered an envelope. Richards took from it a +note and read it; it was from Burgess: + + "You saved me, in a difficult time. I saved you last night. It was + at cost of a lie, but I made the sacrifice freely, and out of a + grateful heart. None in this village knows so well as I know how + brave and good and noble you are. At bottom you cannot respect me, + knowing as you do of that matter of which I am accused, and by the + general voice condemned; but I beg that you will at least believe that + I am a grateful man; it will help me to bear my burden. [Signed] + 'BURGESS.'" + +"Saved, once more. And on such terms!" He put the note in the lire. +"I--I wish I were dead, Mary, I wish I were out of it all!" + +"Oh, these are bitter, bitter days, Edward. The stabs, through their +very generosity, are so deep--and they come so fast!" + +Three days before the election each of two thousand voters suddenly found +himself in possession of a prized memento--one of the renowned bogus +double-eagles. Around one of its faces was stamped these words: "THE +REMARK I MADE TO THE POOR STRANGER WAS--" Around the other face was +stamped these: "GO, AND REFORM. [SIGNED] PINKERTON." Thus the entire +remaining refuse of the renowned joke was emptied upon a single head, and +with calamitous effect. It revived the recent vast laugh and +concentrated it upon Pinkerton; and Harkness's election was a walk-over. + +Within twenty-four hours after the Richardses had received their cheques +their consciences were quieting down, discouraged; the old couple were +learning to reconcile themselves to the sin which they had committed. But +they were to learn, now, that a sin takes on new and real terrors when +there seems a chance that it is going to be found out. This gives it a +fresh and most substantial and important aspect. At church the morning +sermon was of the usual pattern; it was the same old things said in the +same old way; they had heard them a thousand times and found them +innocuous, next to meaningless, and easy to sleep under; but now it was +different: the sermon seemed to bristle with accusations; it seemed aimed +straight and specially at people who were concealing deadly sins. After +church they got away from the mob of congratulators as soon as they +could, and hurried homeward, chilled to the bone at they did not know +what--vague, shadowy, indefinite fears. And by chance they caught a +glimpse of Mr. Burgess as he turned a corner. He paid no attention to +their nod of recognition! He hadn't seen it; but they did not know that. +What could his conduct mean? It might mean--it might--mean--oh, a dozen +dreadful things. Was it possible that he knew that Richards could have +cleared him of guilt in that bygone time, and had been silently waiting +for a chance to even up accounts? At home, in their distress they got to +imagining that their servant might have been in the next room listening +when Richards revealed the secret to his wife that he knew of Burgess's +innocence; next Richards began to imagine that he had heard the swish of +a gown in there at that time; next, he was sure he _had_ heard it. They +would call Sarah in, on a pretext, and watch her face; if she had been +betraying them to Mr. Burgess, it would show in her manner. They asked +her some questions--questions which were so random and incoherent and +seemingly purposeless that the girl felt sure that the old people's minds +had been affected by their sudden good fortune; the sharp and watchful +gaze which they bent upon her frightened her, and that completed the +business. She blushed, she became nervous and confused, and to the old +people these were plain signs of guilt--guilt of some fearful sort or +other--without doubt she was a spy and a traitor. When they were alone +again they began to piece many unrelated things together and get horrible +results out of the combination. When things had got about to the worst +Richards was delivered of a sudden gasp and his wife asked: + +"Oh, what is it?--what is it?" + +"The note--Burgess's note! Its language was sarcastic, I see it now." He +quoted: "'At bottom you cannot respect me, _knowing_, as you do, of _that +matter of_ which I am accused'--oh, it is perfectly plain, now, God help +me! He knows that I know! You see the ingenuity of the phrasing. It +was a trap--and like a fool, I walked into it. And Mary--!" + +"Oh, it is dreadful--I know what you are going to say--he didn't return +your transcript of the pretended test-remark." + +"No--kept it to destroy us with. Mary, he has exposed us to some +already. I know it--I know it well. I saw it in a dozen faces after +church. Ah, he wouldn't answer our nod of recognition--he knew what he +had been doing!" + +In the night the doctor was called. The news went around in the morning +that the old couple were rather seriously ill--prostrated by the +exhausting excitement growing out of their great windfall, the +congratulations, and the late hours, the doctor said. The town was +sincerely distressed; for these old people were about all it had left to +be proud of, now. + +Two days later the news was worse. The old couple were delirious, and +were doing strange things. By witness of the nurses, Richards had +exhibited cheques--for $8,500? No--for an amazing sum--$38,500! What +could be the explanation of this gigantic piece of luck? + +The following day the nurses had more news--and wonderful. They had +concluded to hide the cheques, lest harm come to them; but when they +searched they were gone from under the patient's pillow--vanished away. +The patient said: + +"Let the pillow alone; what do you want?" + +"We thought it best that the cheques--" + +"You will never see them again--they are destroyed. They came from +Satan. I saw the hell-brand on them, and I knew they were sent to betray +me to sin." Then he fell to gabbling strange and dreadful things which +were not clearly understandable, and which the doctor admonished them to +keep to themselves. + +Richards was right; the cheques were never seen again. + +A nurse must have talked in her sleep, for within two days the forbidden +gabblings were the property of the town; and they were of a surprising +sort. They seemed to indicate that Richards had been a claimant for the +sack himself, and that Burgess had concealed that fact and then +maliciously betrayed it. + +Burgess was taxed with this and stoutly denied it. And he said it was +not fair to attach weight to the chatter of a sick old man who was out of +his mind. Still, suspicion was in the air, and there was much talk. + +After a day or two it was reported that Mrs. Richards's delirious +deliveries were getting to be duplicates of her husband's. Suspicion +flamed up into conviction, now, and the town's pride in the purity of its +one undiscredited important citizen began to dim down and flicker toward +extinction. + +Six days passed, then came more news. The old couple were dying. +Richards's mind cleared in his latest hour, and he sent for Burgess. +Burgess said: + +"Let the room be cleared. I think he wishes to say something in +privacy." + +"No!" said Richards; "I want witnesses. I want you all to hear my +confession, so that I may die a man, and not a dog. I was +clean--artificially--like the rest; and like the rest I fell when +temptation came. I signed a lie, and claimed the miserable sack. Mr. +Burgess remembered that I had done him a service, and in gratitude (and +ignorance) he suppressed my claim and saved me. You know the thing that +was charged against Burgess years ago. My testimony, and mine alone, +could have cleared him, and I was a coward and left him to suffer +disgrace--" + +"No--no--Mr. Richards, you--" + +"My servant betrayed my secret to him--" + +"No one has betrayed anything to me--" + +--"And then he did a natural and justifiable thing; he repented of the +saving kindness which he had done me, and he _exposed_ me--as I +deserved--" + +"Never!--I make oath--" + +"Out of my heart I forgive him." + +Burgess's impassioned protestations fell upon deaf ears; the dying man +passed away without knowing that once more he had done poor Burgess a +wrong. The old wife died that night. + +The last of the sacred Nineteen had fallen a prey to the fiendish sack; +the town was stripped of the last rag of its ancient glory. Its mourning +was not showy, but it was deep. + +By act of the Legislature--upon prayer and petition--Hadleyburg was +allowed to change its name to (never mind what--I will not give it away), +and leave one word out of the motto that for many generations had graced +the town's official seal. + +It is an honest town once more, and the man will have to rise early that +catches it napping again. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN THAT CORRUPTED HADLEYBURG*** + + +******* This file should be named 1213.txt or 1213.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/2/1/1213 + + + +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. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: +https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. 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: + + https://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/old/old/old/1213.zip b/old/old/old/1213.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7e0e326 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/old/1213.zip diff --git a/old/old/old/hdlyb10.txt b/old/old/old/hdlyb10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4453d03 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/old/hdlyb10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2450 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg +#13 in our series by Mark Twain + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. We need your donations. + + +The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg + +by Mark Twain + +February, 1998 [Etext #1213] + + +The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg +******This file should be named hdlyb10.txt or hdlyb10.zip****** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, hdlyb11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, hdlyb10a.txt + + +This etext was prepared from the 1907 Chatto & Windus edition +by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + +Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions, +all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a +copyright notice is included. Therefore, we do NOT keep these books +in compliance with any particular paper edition, usually otherwise. + + +We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance +of the official release dates, for time for better editing. + +Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an +up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes +in the first week of the next month. Since our ftp program has +a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a +look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a +new copy has at least one byte more or less. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +fifty hours is one conservative estimate for how long it we take +to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour this year as we release thirty-two text +files per month, or 384 more Etexts in 1998 for a total of 1500+ +If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the +total should reach over 150 billion Etexts given away. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext +Files by the December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000=Trillion] +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only 10% of the present number of computer users. 2001 +should have at least twice as many computer users as that, so it +will require us reaching less than 5% of the users in 2001. + + +We need your donations more than ever! + + +All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/CMU": and are +tax deductible to the extent allowable by law. (CMU = Carnegie- +Mellon University). + +For these and other matters, please mail to: + +Project Gutenberg +P. O. Box 2782 +Champaign, IL 61825 + +When all other email fails try our Executive Director: +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +We would prefer to send you this information by email +(Internet, Bitnet, Compuserve, ATTMAIL or MCImail). + +****** +If you have an FTP program (or emulator), please +FTP directly to the Project Gutenberg archives: +[Mac users, do NOT point and click. . .type] + +ftp uiarchive.cso.uiuc.edu +login: anonymous +password: your@login +cd etext/etext90 through /etext96 +or cd etext/articles [get suggest gut for more information] +dir [to see files] +get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files] +GET INDEX?00.GUT +for a list of books +and +GET NEW GUT for general information +and +MGET GUT* for newsletters. + +**Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor** +(Three Pages) + + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG- +tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor +Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association at +Carnegie-Mellon University (the "Project"). Among other +things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext +under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this +etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors, +officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost +and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or +indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause: +[1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification, +or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word pro- + cessing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the etext (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the + net profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association/Carnegie-Mellon + University" within the 60 days following each + date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) + your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association / Carnegie-Mellon University". + +*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +Prepared by +by David Price ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + +The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg + + + + +It was many years ago. Hadleyburg was the most honest and upright +town in all the region round about. It had kept that reputation +unsmirched during three generations, and was prouder of it than of +any other of its possessions. It was so proud of it, and so anxious +to insure its perpetuation, that it began to teach the principles of +honest dealing to its babies in the cradle, and made the like +teachings the staple of their culture thenceforward through all the +years devoted to their education. Also, throughout the formative +years temptations were kept out of the way of the young people, so +that their honesty could have every chance to harden and solidify, +and become a part of their very bone. The neighbouring towns were +jealous of this honourable supremacy, and affected to sneer at +Hadleyburg's pride in it and call it vanity; but all the same they +were obliged to acknowledge that Hadleyburg was in reality an +incorruptible town; and if pressed they would also acknowledge that +the mere fact that a young man hailed from Hadleyburg was all the +recommendation he needed when he went forth from his natal town to +seek for responsible employment. + +But at last, in the drift of time, Hadleyburg had the ill luck to +offend a passing stranger--possibly without knowing it, certainly +without caring, for Hadleyburg was sufficient unto itself, and cared +not a rap for strangers or their opinions. Still, it would have +been well to make an exception in this one's case, for he was a +bitter man, and revengeful. All through his wanderings during a +whole year he kept his injury in mind, and gave all his leisure +moments to trying to invent a compensating satisfaction for it. He +contrived many plans, and all of them were good, but none of them +was quite sweeping enough: the poorest of them would hurt a great +many individuals, but what he wanted was a plan which would +comprehend the entire town, and not let so much as one person escape +unhurt. At last he had a fortunate idea, and when it fell into his +brain it lit up his whole head with an evil joy. He began to form a +plan at once, saying to himself "That is the thing to do--I will +corrupt the town." + +Six months later he went to Hadleyburg, and arrived in a buggy at +the house of the old cashier of the bank about ten at night. He got +a sack out of the buggy, shouldered it, and staggered with it +through the cottage yard, and knocked at the door. A woman's voice +said "Come in," and he entered, and set his sack behind the stove in +the parlour, saying politely to the old lady who sat reading the +"Missionary Herald" by the lamp: + +"Pray keep your seat, madam, I will not disturb you. There--now it +is pretty well concealed; one would hardly know it was there. Can I +see your husband a moment, madam?" + +No, he was gone to Brixton, and might not return before morning. + +"Very well, madam, it is no matter. I merely wanted to leave that +sack in his care, to be delivered to the rightful owner when he +shall be found. I am a stranger; he does not know me; I am merely +passing through the town to-night to discharge a matter which has +been long in my mind. My errand is now completed, and I go pleased +and a little proud, and you will never see me again. There is a +paper attached to the sack which will explain everything. Good- +night, madam." + +The old lady was afraid of the mysterious big stranger, and was glad +to see him go. But her curiosity was roused, and she went straight +to the sack and brought away the paper. It began as follows: + + +"TO BE PUBLISHED, or, the right man sought out by private inquiry-- +either will answer. This sack contains gold coin weighing a hundred +and sixty pounds four ounces--" + + +"Mercy on us, and the door not locked!" + +Mrs. Richards flew to it all in a tremble and locked it, then pulled +down the window-shades and stood frightened, worried, and wondering +if there was anything else she could do toward making herself and +the money more safe. She listened awhile for burglars, then +surrendered to curiosity, and went back to the lamp and finished +reading the paper: + + +"I am a foreigner, and am presently going back to my own country, to +remain there permanently. I am grateful to America for what I have +received at her hands during my long stay under her flag; and to one +of her citizens--a citizen of Hadleyburg--I am especially grateful +for a great kindness done me a year or two ago. Two great +kindnesses in fact. I will explain. I was a gambler. I say I WAS. +I was a ruined gambler. I arrived in this village at night, hungry +and without a penny. I asked for help--in the dark; I was ashamed +to beg in the light. I begged of the right man. He gave me twenty +dollars--that is to say, he gave me life, as I considered it. He +also gave me fortune; for out of that money I have made myself rich +at the gaming-table. And finally, a remark which he made to me has +remained with me to this day, and has at last conquered me; and in +conquering has saved the remnant of my morals: I shall gamble no +more. Now I have no idea who that man was, but I want him found, +and I want him to have this money, to give away, throw away, or +keep, as he pleases. It is merely my way of testifying my gratitude +to him. If I could stay, I would find him myself; but no matter, he +will be found. This is an honest town, an incorruptible town, and I +know I can trust it without fear. This man can be identified by the +remark which he made to me; I feel persuaded that he will remember +it. + +"And now my plan is this: If you prefer to conduct the inquiry +privately, do so. Tell the contents of this present writing to any +one who is likely to be the right man. If he shall answer, 'I am +the man; the remark I made was so-and-so,' apply the test--to wit: +open the sack, and in it you will find a sealed envelope containing +that remark. If the remark mentioned by the candidate tallies with +it, give him the money, and ask no further questions, for he is +certainly the right man. + +"But if you shall prefer a public inquiry, then publish this present +writing in the local paper--with these instructions added, to wit: +Thirty days from now, let the candidate appear at the town-hall at +eight in the evening (Friday), and hand his remark, in a sealed +envelope, to the Rev. Mr. Burgess (if he will be kind enough to +act); and let Mr. Burgess there and then destroy the seals of the +sack, open it, and see if the remark is correct: if correct, let +the money be delivered, with my sincere gratitude, to my benefactor +thus identified." + + +Mrs. Richards sat down, gently quivering with excitement, and was +soon lost in thinkings--after this pattern: "What a strange thing +it is! . . . And what a fortune for that kind man who set his bread +afloat upon the waters! . . . If it had only been my husband that +did it!--for we are so poor, so old and poor! . . ." Then, with a +sigh--"But it was not my Edward; no, it was not he that gave a +stranger twenty dollars. It is a pity too; I see it now. . . " +Then, with a shudder--"But it is GAMBLERS' money! the wages of sin; +we couldn't take it; we couldn't touch it. I don't like to be near +it; it seems a defilement." She moved to a farther chair. . . "I +wish Edward would come, and take it to the bank; a burglar might +come at any moment; it is dreadful to be here all alone with it." + +At eleven Mr. Richards arrived, and while his wife was saying "I am +SO glad you've come!" he was saying, "I am so tired--tired clear +out; it is dreadful to be poor, and have to make these dismal +journeys at my time of life. Always at the grind, grind, grind, on +a salary--another man's slave, and he sitting at home in his +slippers, rich and comfortable." + +"I am so sorry for you, Edward, you know that; but be comforted; we +have our livelihood; we have our good name--" + +"Yes, Mary, and that is everything. Don't mind my talk--it's just a +moment's irritation and doesn't mean anything. Kiss me--there, it's +all gone now, and I am not complaining any more. What have you been +getting? What's in the sack?" + +Then his wife told him the great secret. It dazed him for a moment; +then he said: + +"It weighs a hundred and sixty pounds? Why, Mary, it's for-ty thou- +sand dollars--think of it--a whole fortune! Not ten men in this +village are worth that much. Give me the paper." + +He skimmed through it and said: + +"Isn't it an adventure! Why, it's a romance; it's like the +impossible things one reads about in books, and never sees in life." +He was well stirred up now; cheerful, even gleeful. He tapped his +old wife on the cheek, and said humorously, "Why, we're rich, Mary, +rich; all we've got to do is to bury the money and burn the papers. +If the gambler ever comes to inquire, we'll merely look coldly upon +him and say: 'What is this nonsense you are talking? We have never +heard of you and your sack of gold before;' and then he would look +foolish, and--" + +"And in the meantime, while you are running on with your jokes, the +money is still here, and it is fast getting along toward burglar- +time." + +"True. Very well, what shall we do--make the inquiry private? No, +not that; it would spoil the romance. The public method is better. +Think what a noise it will make! And it will make all the other +towns jealous; for no stranger would trust such a thing to any town +but Hadleyburg, and they know it. It's a great card for us. I must +get to the printing-office now, or I shall be too late." + +"But stop--stop--don't leave me here alone with it, Edward!" + +But he was gone. For only a little while, however. Not far from +his own house he met the editor--proprietor of the paper, and gave +him the document, and said "Here is a good thing for you, Cox--put +it in." + +"It may be too late, Mr. Richards, but I'll see." + +At home again, he and his wife sat down to talk the charming mystery +over; they were in no condition for sleep. The first question was, +Who could the citizen have been who gave the stranger the twenty +dollars? It seemed a simple one; both answered it in the same +breath - + +"Barclay Goodson." + +"Yes," said Richards, "he could have done it, and it would have been +like him, but there's not another in the town." + +"Everybody will grant that, Edward--grant it privately, anyway. For +six months, now, the village has been its own proper self once more- +-honest, narrow, self-righteous, and stingy." + +"It is what he always called it, to the day of his death--said it +right out publicly, too." + +"Yes, and he was hated for it." + +"Oh, of course; but he didn't care. I reckon he was the best-hated +man among us, except the Reverend Burgess." + +"Well, Burgess deserves it--he will never get another congregation +here. Mean as the town is, it knows how to estimate HIM. Edward, +doesn't it seem odd that the stranger should appoint Burgess to +deliver the money?" + +"Well, yes--it does. That is--that is--" + +"Why so much that-IS-ing? Would YOU select him?" + +"Mary, maybe the stranger knows him better than this village does." + +"Much THAT would help Burgess!" + +The husband seemed perplexed for an answer; the wife kept a steady +eye upon him, and waited. Finally Richards said, with the hesitancy +of one who is making a statement which is likely to encounter doubt, + +"Mary, Burgess is not a bad man." + +His wife was certainly surprised. + +"Nonsense!" she exclaimed. + +"He is not a bad man. I know. The whole of his unpopularity had +its foundation in that one thing--the thing that made so much +noise." + +"That 'one thing,' indeed! As if that 'one thing' wasn't enough, +all by itself." + +"Plenty. Plenty. Only he wasn't guilty of it." + +"How you talk! Not guilty of it! Everybody knows he WAS guilty." + +"Mary, I give you my word--he was innocent." + +"I can't believe it and I don't. How do you know?" + +"It is a confession. I am ashamed, but I will make it. I was the +only man who knew he was innocent. I could have saved him, and-- +and--well, you know how the town was wrought up--I hadn't the pluck +to do it. It would have turned everybody against me. I felt mean, +ever so mean; ut I didn't dare; I hadn't the manliness to face +that." + +Mary looked troubled, and for a while was silent. Then she said +stammeringly: + +"I--I don't think it would have done for you to--to--One mustn't-- +er--public opinion--one has to be so careful --so--" It was a +difficult road, and she got mired; but after a little she got +started again. "It was a great pity, but-- Why, we couldn't afford +it, Edward--we couldn't indeed. Oh, I wouldn't have had you do it +for anything!" + +"It would have lost us the good-will of so many people, Mary; and +then--and then--" + +"What troubles me now is, what HE thinks of us, Edward." + +"He? HE doesn't suspect that I could have saved him." + +"Oh," exclaimed the wife, in a tone of relief, "I am glad of that. +As long as he doesn't know that you could have saved him, he--he-- +well that makes it a great deal better. Why, I might have known he +didn't know, because he is always trying to be friendly with us, as +little encouragement as we give him. More than once people have +twitted me with it. There's the Wilsons, and the Wilcoxes, and the +Harknesses, they take a mean pleasure in saying 'YOUR FRIEND +Burgess,' because they know it pesters me. I wish he wouldn't +persist in liking us so; I can't think why he keeps it up." + +"I can explain it. It's another confession. When the thing was new +and hot, and the town made a plan to ride him on a rail, my +conscience hurt me so that I couldn't stand it, and I went privately +and gave him notice, and he got out of the town and stayed out till +it was safe to come back." + +"Edward! If the town had found it out--" + +"DON'T! It scares me yet, to think of it. I repented of it the +minute it was done; and I was even afraid to tell you lest your face +might betray it to somebody. I didn't sleep any that night, for +worrying. But after a few days I saw that no one was going to +suspect me, and after that I got to feeling glad I did it. And I +feel glad yet, Mary--glad through and through." + +"So do I, now, for it would have been a dreadful way to treat him. +Yes, I'm glad; for really you did owe him that, you know. But, +Edward, suppose it should come out yet, some day!" + +"It won't." + +"Why?" + +"Because everybody thinks it was Goodson." + +"Of course they would!" + +"Certainly. And of course HE didn't care. They persuaded poor old +Sawlsberry to go and charge it on him, and he went blustering over +there and did it. Goodson looked him over, like as if he was +hunting for a place on him that he could despise the most; then he +says, 'So you are the Committee of Inquiry, are you?' Sawlsberry +said that was about what he was. 'H'm. Do they require +particulars, or do you reckon a kind of a GENERAL answer will do?' +'If they require particulars, I will come back, Mr. Goodson; I will +take the general answer first.' 'Very well, then, tell them to go +to hell--I reckon that's general enough. And I'll give you some +advice, Sawlsberry; when you come back for the particulars, fetch a +basket to carry what is left of yourself home in.'" + +"Just like Goodson; it's got all the marks. He had only one vanity; +he thought he could give advice better than any other person." + +"It settled the business, and saved us, Mary. The subject was +dropped." + +"Bless you, I'm not doubting THAT." + +Then they took up the gold-sack mystery again, with strong interest. +Soon the conversation began to suffer breaks--interruptions caused +by absorbed thinkings. The breaks grew more and more frequent. At +last Richards lost himself wholly in thought. He sat long, gazing +vacantly at the floor, and by-and-by he began to punctuate his +thoughts with little nervous movements of his hands that seemed to +indicate vexation. Meantime his wife too had relapsed into a +thoughtful silence, and her movements were beginning to show a +troubled discomfort. Finally Richards got up and strode aimlessly +about the room, ploughing his hands through his hair, much as a +somnambulist might do who was having a bad dream. Then he seemed to +arrive at a definite purpose; and without a word he put on his hat +and passed quickly out of the house. His wife sat brooding, with a +drawn face, and did not seem to be aware that she was alone. Now +and then she murmured, "Lead us not into t . . . but--but--we are so +poor, so poor! . . . Lead us not into . . . Ah, who would be hurt by +it?--and no one would ever know . . . Lead us . . . " The voice +died out in mumblings. After a little she glanced up and muttered +in a half-frightened, half-glad way - + +"He is gone! But, oh dear, he may be too late--too late . . . Maybe +not--maybe there is still time." She rose and stood thinking, +nervously clasping and unclasping her hands. A slight shudder shook +her frame, and she said, out of a dry throat, "God forgive me--it's +awful to think such things--but . . . Lord, how we are made--how +strangely we are made!" + +She turned the light low, and slipped stealthily over and knelt down +by the sack and felt of its ridgy sides with her hands, and fondled +them lovingly; and there was a gloating light in her poor old eyes. +She fell into fits of absence; and came half out of them at times to +mutter "If we had only waited!--oh, if we had only waited a little, +and not been in such a hurry!" + +Meantime Cox had gone home from his office and told his wife all +about the strange thing that had happened, and they had talked it +over eagerly, and guessed that the late Goodson was the only man in +the town who could have helped a suffering stranger with so noble a +sum as twenty dollars. Then there was a pause, and the two became +thoughtful and silent. And by-and-by nervous and fidgety. At last +the wife said, as if to herself, + +"Nobody knows this secret but the Richardses . . . and us . . . +nobody." + +The husband came out of his thinkings with a slight start, and gazed +wistfully at his wife, whose face was become very pale; then he +hesitatingly rose, and glanced furtively at his hat, then at his +wife--a sort of mute inquiry. Mrs. Cox swallowed once or twice, +with her hand at her throat, then in place of speech she nodded her +head. In a moment she was alone, and mumbling to herself. + +And now Richards and Cox were hurrying through the deserted streets, +from opposite directions. They met, panting, at the foot of the +printing-office stairs; by the night-light there they read each +other's face. Cox whispered: + +"Nobody knows about this but us?" + +The whispered answer was: + +"Not a soul--on honour, not a soul!" + +"If it isn't too late to--" + +The men were starting up-stairs; at this moment they were overtaken +by a boy, and Cox asked, + +"Is that you, Johnny?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You needn't ship the early mail--nor ANY mail; wait till I tell +you." + +"It's already gone, sir." + +"GONE?" It had the sound of an unspeakable disappointment in it. + +"Yes, sir. Time-table for Brixton and all the towns beyond changed +to-day, sir--had to get the papers in twenty minutes earlier than +common. I had to rush; if I had been two minutes later--" + +The men turned and walked slowly away, not waiting to hear the rest. +Neither of them spoke during ten minutes; then Cox said, in a vexed +tone, + +"What possessed you to be in such a hurry, I can't make out." + +The answer was humble enough: + +"I see it now, but somehow I never thought, you know, until it was +too late. But the next time--" + +"Next time be hanged! It won't come in a thousand years." + +Then the friends separated without a good-night, and dragged +themselves home with the gait of mortally stricken men. At their +homes their wives sprang up with an eager "Well?"--then saw the +answer with their eyes and sank down sorrowing, without waiting for +it to come in words. In both houses a discussion followed of a +heated sort--a new thing; there had been discussions before, but not +heated ones, not ungentle ones. The discussions to-night were a +sort of seeming plagiarisms of each other. Mrs. Richards said: + +"If you had only waited, Edward--if you had only stopped to think; +but no, you must run straight to the printing-office and spread it +all over the world." + +"It SAID publish it." + +"That is nothing; it also said do it privately, if you liked. +There, now--is that true, or not?" + +"Why, yes--yes, it is true; but when I thought what a stir it would +make, and what a compliment it was to Hadleyburg that a stranger +should trust it so--" + +"Oh, certainly, I know all that; but if you had only stopped to +think, you would have seen that you COULDN'T find the right man, +because he is in his grave, and hasn't left chick nor child nor +relation behind him; and as long as the money went to somebody that +awfully needed it, and nobody would be hurt by it, and--and--" + +She broke down, crying. Her husband tried to think of some +comforting thing to say, and presently came out with this: + +"But after all, Mary, it must be for the best--it must be; we know +that. And we must remember that it was so ordered--" + +"Ordered! Oh, everything's ORDERED, when a person has to find some +way out when he has been stupid. Just the same, it was ORDERED that +the money should come to us in this special way, and it was you that +must take it on yourself to go meddling with the designs of +Providence--and who gave you the right? It was wicked, that is what +it was--just blasphemous presumption, and no more becoming to a meek +and humble professor of--" + +"But, Mary, you know how we have been trained all our lives long, +like the whole village, till it is absolutely second nature to us to +stop not a single moment to think when there's an honest thing to be +done--" + +"Oh, I know it, I know it--it's been one everlasting training and +training and training in honesty--honesty shielded, from the very +cradle, against every possible temptation, and so it's ARTIFICIAL +honesty, and weak as water when temptation comes, as we have seen +this night. God knows I never had shade nor shadow of a doubt of my +petrified and indestructible honesty until now--and now, under the +very first big and real temptation, I--Edward, it is my belief that +this town's honesty is as rotten as mine is; as rotten as yours. It +is a mean town, a hard, stingy town, and hasn't a virtue in the +world but this honesty it is so celebrated for and so conceited +about; and so help me, I do believe that if ever the day comes that +its honesty falls under great temptation, its grand reputation will +go to ruin like a house of cards. There, now, I've made confession, +and I feel better; I am a humbug, and I've been one all my life, +without knowing it. Let no man call me honest again--I will not +have it." + +"I-- Well, Mary, I feel a good deal as you do: I certainly do. It +seems strange, too, so strange. I never could have believed it-- +never." + +A long silence followed; both were sunk in thought. At last the +wife looked up and said: + +"I know what you are thinking, Edward." + +Richards had the embarrassed look of a person who is caught. + +"I am ashamed to confess it, Mary, but--" + +"It's no matter, Edward, I was thinking the same question myself." + +"I hope so. State it." + +"You were thinking, if a body could only guess out WHAT THE REMARK +WAS that Goodson made to the stranger." + +"It's perfectly true. I feel guilty and ashamed. And you?" + +"I'm past it. Let us make a pallet here; we've got to stand watch +till the bank vault opens in the morning and admits the sack. . . Oh +dear, oh dear--if we hadn't made the mistake!" + +The pallet was made, and Mary said: + +"The open sesame--what could it have been? I do wonder what that +remark could have been. But come; we will get to bed now." + +"And sleep?" + +"No; think." + +"Yes; think." + +By this time the Coxes too had completed their spat and their +reconciliation, and were turning in--to think, to think, and toss, +and fret, and worry over what the remark could possibly have been +which Goodson made to the stranded derelict; that golden remark; +that remark worth forty thousand dollars, cash. + +The reason that the village telegraph-office was open later than +usual that night was this: The foreman of Cox's paper was the local +representative of the Associated Press. One might say its honorary +representative, for it wasn't four times a year that he could +furnish thirty words that would be accepted. But this time it was +different. His despatch stating what he had caught got an instant +answer: + + +"Send the whole thing--all the details--twelve hundred words." + + +A colossal order! The foreman filled the bill; and he was the +proudest man in the State. By breakfast-time the next morning the +name of Hadleyburg the Incorruptible was on every lip in America, +from Montreal to the Gulf, from the glaciers of Alaska to the +orange-groves of Florida; and millions and millions of people were +discussing the stranger and his money-sack, and wondering if the +right man would be found, and hoping some more news about the matter +would come soon--right away. + + +II + + +Hadleyburg village woke up world-celebrated--astonished--happy-- +vain. Vain beyond imagination. Its nineteen principal citizens and +their wives went about shaking hands with each other, and beaming, +and smiling, and congratulating, and saying THIS thing adds a new +word to the dictionary--HADLEYBURG, synonym for INCORRUPTIBLE-- +destined to live in dictionaries for ever! And the minor and +unimportant citizens and their wives went around acting in much the +same way. Everybody ran to the bank to see the gold-sack; and +before noon grieved and envious crowds began to flock in from +Brixton and all neighbouring towns; and that afternoon and next day +reporters began to arrive from everywhere to verify the sack and its +history and write the whole thing up anew, and make dashing free- +hand pictures of the sack, and of Richards's house, and the bank, +and the Presbyterian church, and the Baptist church, and the public +square, and the town-hall where the test would be applied and the +money delivered; and damnable portraits of the Richardses, and +Pinkerton the banker, and Cox, and the foreman, and Reverend +Burgess, and the postmaster--and even of Jack Halliday, who was the +loafing, good-natured, no-account, irreverent fisherman, hunter, +boys' friend, stray-dogs' friend, typical "Sam Lawson" of the town. +The little mean, smirking, oily Pinkerton showed the sack to all +comers, and rubbed his sleek palms together pleasantly, and enlarged +upon the town's fine old reputation for honesty and upon this +wonderful endorsement of it, and hoped and believed that the example +would now spread far and wide over the American world, and be epoch- +making in the matter of moral regeneration. And so on, and so on. + +By the end of a week things had quieted down again; the wild +intoxication of pride and joy had sobered to a soft, sweet, silent +delight--a sort of deep, nameless, unutterable content. All faces +bore a look of peaceful, holy happiness. + +Then a change came. It was a gradual change; so gradual that its +beginnings were hardly noticed; maybe were not noticed at all, +except by Jack Halliday, who always noticed everything; and always +made fun of it, too, no matter what it was. He began to throw out +chaffing remarks about people not looking quite so happy as they did +a day or two ago; and next he claimed that the new aspect was +deepening to positive sadness; next, that it was taking on a sick +look; and finally he said that everybody was become so moody, +thoughtful, and absent-minded that he could rob the meanest man in +town of a cent out of the bottom of his breeches pocket and not +disturb his reverie. + +At this stage--or at about this stage--a saying like this was +dropped at bedtime--with a sigh, usually--by the head of each of the +nineteen principal households: + +"Ah, what COULD have been the remark that Goodson made?" + +And straightway--with a shudder--came this, from the man's wife: + +"Oh, DON'T! What horrible thing are you mulling in your mind? Put +it away from you, for God's sake!" + +But that question was wrung from those men again the next night--and +got the same retort. But weaker. + +And the third night the men uttered the question yet again--with +anguish, and absently. This time--and the following night--the +wives fidgeted feebly, and tried to say something. But didn't. + +And the night after that they found their tongues and responded-- +longingly: + +"Oh, if we COULD only guess!" + +Halliday's comments grew daily more and more sparklingly +disagreeable and disparaging. He went diligently about, laughing at +the town, individually and in mass. But his laugh was the only one +left in the village: it fell upon a hollow and mournful vacancy and +emptiness. Not even a smile was findable anywhere. Halliday +carried a cigar-box around on a tripod, playing that it was a +camera, and halted all passers and aimed the thing and said "Ready! +--now look pleasant, please," but not even this capital joke could +surprise the dreary faces into any softening. + +So three weeks passed--one week was left. It was Saturday evening +after supper. Instead of the aforetime Saturday-evening flutter and +bustle and shopping and larking, the streets were empty and +desolate. Richards and his old wife sat apart in their little +parlour--miserable and thinking. This was become their evening +habit now: the life-long habit which had preceded it, of reading, +knitting, and contented chat, or receiving or paying neighbourly +calls, was dead and gone and forgotten, ages ago--two or three weeks +ago; nobody talked now, nobody read, nobody visited--the whole +village sat at home, sighing, worrying, silent. Trying to guess out +that remark. + +The postman left a letter. Richards glanced listlessly at the +superscription and the post-mark--unfamiliar, both--and tossed the +letter on the table and resumed his might-have-beens and his +hopeless dull miseries where he had left them off. Two or three +hours later his wife got wearily up and was going away to bed +without a good-night--custom now--but she stopped near the letter +and eyed it awhile with a dead interest, then broke it open, and +began to skim it over. Richards, sitting there with his chair +tilted back against the wall and his chin between his knees, heard +something fall. It was his wife. He sprang to her side, but she +cried out: + +"Leave me alone, I am too happy. Read the letter--read it!" + +He did. He devoured it, his brain reeling. The letter was from a +distant State, and it said: + + +"I am a stranger to you, but no matter: I have something to tell. +I have just arrived home from Mexico, and learned about that +episode. Of course you do not know who made that remark, but I +know, and I am the only person living who does know. It was +GOODSON. I knew him well, many years ago. I passed through your +village that very night, and was his guest till the midnight train +came along. I overheard him make that remark to the stranger in the +dark--it was in Hale Alley. He and I talked of it the rest of the +way home, and while smoking in his house. He mentioned many of your +villagers in the course of his talk--most of them in a very +uncomplimentary way, but two or three favourably: among these +latter yourself. I say 'favourably'--nothing stronger. I remember +his saying he did not actually LIKE any person in the town--not one; +but that you--I THINK he said you--am almost sure--had done him a +very great service once, possibly without knowing the full value of +it, and he wished he had a fortune, he would leave it to you when he +died, and a curse apiece for the rest of the citizens. Now, then, +if it was you that did him that service, you are his legitimate +heir, and entitled to the sack of gold. I know that I can trust to +your honour and honesty, for in a citizen of Hadleyburg these +virtues are an unfailing inheritance, and so I am going to reveal to +you the remark, well satisfied that if you are not the right man you +will seek and find the right one and see that poor Goodson's debt of +gratitude for the service referred to is paid. This is the remark +'YOU ARE FAR FROM BEING A BAD MAN: GO, AND REFORM.' + +"HOWARD L. STEPHENSON." + + +"Oh, Edward, the money is ours, and I am so grateful, OH, so +grateful,--kiss me, dear, it's for ever since we kissed--and we +needed it so--the money--and now you are free of Pinkerton and his +bank, and nobody's slave any more; it seems to me I could fly for +joy." + +It was a happy half-hour that the couple spent there on the settee +caressing each other; it was the old days come again--days that had +begun with their courtship and lasted without a break till the +stranger brought the deadly money. By-and-by the wife said: + +"Oh, Edward, how lucky it was you did him that grand service, poor +Goodson! I never liked him, but I love him now. And it was fine +and beautiful of you never to mention it or brag about it." Then, +with a touch of reproach, "But you ought to have told ME, Edward, +you ought to have told your wife, you know." + +"Well, I--er--well, Mary, you see--" + +"Now stop hemming and hawing, and tell me about it, Edward. I +always loved you, and now I'm proud of you. Everybody believes +there was only one good generous soul in this village, and now it +turns out that you-- Edward, why don't you tell me?" + +"Well--er--er--Why, Mary, I can't!" + +"You CAN'T? WHY can't you?" + +"You see, he--well, he--he made me promise I wouldn't." + +The wife looked him over, and said, very slowly: + +"Made--you--promise? Edward, what do you tell me that for?" + +"Mary, do you think I would lie?" + +She was troubled and silent for a moment, then she laid her hand +within his and said: + +"No . . . no. We have wandered far enough from our bearings--God +spare us that! In all your life you have never uttered a lie. But +now--now that the foundations of things seem to be crumbling from +under us, we--we--" She lost her voice for a moment, then said, +brokenly, "Lead us not into temptation. . . I think you made the +promise, Edward. Let it rest so. Let us keep away from that +ground. Now--that is all gone by; let us he happy again; it is no +time for clouds." + +Edward found it something of an effort to comply, for his mind kept +wandering--trying to remember what the service was that he had done +Goodson. + +The couple lay awake the most of the night, Mary happy and busy, +Edward busy, but not so happy. Mary was planning what she would do +with the money. Edward was trying to recall that service. At first +his conscience was sore on account of the lie he had told Mary--if +it was a lie. After much reflection--suppose it WAS a lie? What +then? Was it such a great matter? Aren't we always ACTING lies? +Then why not tell them? Look at Mary--look what she had done. +While he was hurrying off on his honest errand, what was she doing? +Lamenting because the papers hadn't been destroyed and the money +kept. Is theft better than lying? + +THAT point lost its sting--the lie dropped into the background and +left comfort behind it. The next point came to the front: HAD he +rendered that service? Well, here was Goodson's own evidence as +reported in Stephenson's letter; there could be no better evidence +than that--it was even PROOF that he had rendered it. Of course. +So that point was settled. . . No, not quite. He recalled with a +wince that this unknown Mr. Stephenson was just a trifle unsure as +to whether the performer of it was Richards or some other--and, oh +dear, he had put Richards on his honour! He must himself decide +whither that money must go--and Mr. Stephenson was not doubting that +if he was the wrong man he would go honourably and find the right +one. Oh, it was odious to put a man in such a situation--ah, why +couldn't Stephenson have left out that doubt? What did he want to +intrude that for? + +Further reflection. How did it happen that RICHARDS'S name remained +in Stephenson's mind as indicating the right man, and not some other +man's name? That looked good. Yes, that looked very good. In fact +it went on looking better and better, straight along--until by-and- +by it grew into positive PROOF. And then Richards put the matter at +once out of his mind, for he had a private instinct that a proof +once established is better left so. + +He was feeling reasonably comfortable now, but there was still one +other detail that kept pushing itself on his notice: of course he +had done that service--that was settled; but what WAS that service? +He must recall it--he would not go to sleep till he had recalled it; +it would make his peace of mind perfect. And so he thought and +thought. He thought of a dozen things--possible services, even +probable services--but none of them seemed adequate, none of them +seemed large enough, none of them seemed worth the money--worth the +fortune Goodson had wished he could leave in his will. And besides, +he couldn't remember having done them, anyway. Now, then--now, +then--what KIND of a service would it be that would make a man so +inordinately grateful? Ah--the saving of his soul! That must be +it. Yes, he could remember, now, how he once set himself the task +of converting Goodson, and laboured at it as much as--he was going +to say three months; but upon closer examination it shrunk to a +month, then to a week, then to a day, then to nothing. Yes, he +remembered now, and with unwelcome vividness, that Goodson had told +him to go to thunder and mind his own business--HE wasn't hankering +to follow Hadleyburg to heaven! + +So that solution was a failure--he hadn't saved Goodson's soul. +Richards was discouraged. Then after a little came another idea: +had he saved Goodson's property? No, that wouldn't do--he hadn't +any. His life? That is it! Of course. Why, he might have thought +of it before. This time he was on the right track, sure. His +imagination-mill was hard at work in a minute, now. + +Thereafter, during a stretch of two exhausting hours, he was busy +saving Goodson's life. He saved it in all kinds of difficult and +perilous ways. In every case he got it saved satisfactorily up to a +certain point; then, just as he was beginning to get well persuaded +that it had really happened, a troublesome detail would turn up +which made the whole thing impossible. As in the matter of +drowning, for instance. In that case he had swum out and tugged +Goodson ashore in an unconscious state with a great crowd looking on +and applauding, but when he had got it all thought out and was just +beginning to remember all about it, a whole swarm of disqualifying +details arrived on the ground: the town would have known of the +circumstance, Mary would have known of it, it would glare like a +limelight in his own memory instead of being an inconspicuous +service which he had possibly rendered "without knowing its full +value." And at this point he remembered that he couldn't swim +anyway. + +Ah--THERE was a point which he had been overlooking from the start: +it had to be a service which he had rendered "possibly without +knowing the full value of it." Why, really, that ought to be an +easy hunt--much easier than those others. And sure enough, by-and- +by he found it. Goodson, years and years ago, came near marrying a +very sweet and pretty girl, named Nancy Hewitt, but in some way or +other the match had been broken off; the girl died, Goodson remained +a bachelor, and by-and-by became a soured one and a frank despiser +of the human species. Soon after the girl's death the village found +out, or thought it had found out, that she carried a spoonful of +negro blood in her veins. Richards worked at these details a good +while, and in the end he thought he remembered things concerning +them which must have gotten mislaid in his memory through long +neglect. He seemed to dimly remember that it was HE that found out +about the negro blood; that it was he that told the village; that +the village told Goodson where they got it; that he thus saved +Goodson from marrying the tainted girl; that he had done him this +great service "without knowing the full value of it," in fact +without knowing that he WAS doing it; but that Goodson knew the +value of it, and what a narrow escape he had had, and so went to his +grave grateful to his benefactor and wishing he had a fortune to +leave him. It was all clear and simple, now, and the more he went +over it the more luminous and certain it grew; and at last, when he +nestled to sleep, satisfied and happy, he remembered the whole thing +just as if it had been yesterday. In fact, he dimly remembered +Goodson's TELLING him his gratitude once. Meantime Mary had spent +six thousand dollars on a new house for herself and a pair of +slippers for her pastor, and then had fallen peacefully to rest. + +That same Saturday evening the postman had delivered a letter to +each of the other principal citizens--nineteen letters in all. No +two of the envelopes were alike, and no two of the superscriptions +were in the same hand, but the letters inside were just like each +other in every detail but one. They were exact copies of the letter +received by Richards--handwriting and all--and were all signed by +Stephenson, but in place of Richards's name each receiver's own name +appeared. + +All night long eighteen principal citizens did what their caste- +brother Richards was doing at the same time--they put in their +energies trying to remember what notable service it was that they +had unconsciously done Barclay Goodson. In no case was it a holiday +job; still they succeeded. + +And while they were at this work, which was difficult, their wives +put in the night spending the money, which was easy. During that +one night the nineteen wives spent an average of seven thousand +dollars each out of the forty thousand in the sack--a hundred and +thirty-three thousand altogether. + +Next day there was a surprise for Jack Halliday. He noticed that +the faces of the nineteen chief citizens and their wives bore that +expression of peaceful and holy happiness again. He could not +understand it, neither was he able to invent any remarks about it +that could damage it or disturb it. And so it was his turn to be +dissatisfied with life. His private guesses at the reasons for the +happiness failed in all instances, upon examination. When he met +Mrs. Wilcox and noticed the placid ecstasy in her face, he said to +himself, "Her cat has had kittens"--and went and asked the cook; it +was not so, the cook had detected the happiness, but did not know +the cause. When Halliday found the duplicate ecstasy in the face of +"Shadbelly" Billson (village nickname), he was sure some neighbour +of Billson's had broken his leg, but inquiry showed that this had +not happened. The subdued ecstasy in Gregory Yates's face could +mean but one thing--he was a mother-in-law short; it was another +mistake. "And Pinkerton--Pinkerton--he has collected ten cents that +he thought he was going to lose." And so on, and so on. In some +cases the guesses had to remain in doubt, in the others they proved +distinct errors. In the end Halliday said to himself, "Anyway it +roots up that there's nineteen Hadleyburg families temporarily in +heaven: I don't know how it happened; I only know Providence is off +duty to-day." + +An architect and builder from the next State had lately ventured to +set up a small business in this unpromising village, and his sign +had now been hanging out a week. Not a customer yet; he was a +discouraged man, and sorry he had come. But his weather changed +suddenly now. First one and then another chief citizen's wife said +to him privately: + +"Come to my house Monday week--but say nothing about it for the +present. We think of building." + +He got eleven invitations that day. That night he wrote his +daughter and broke off her match with her student. He said she +could marry a mile higher than that. + +Pinkerton the banker and two or three other well-to-do men planned +country-seats--but waited. That kind don't count their chickens +until they are hatched. + +The Wilsons devised a grand new thing--a fancy-dress ball. They +made no actual promises, but told all their acquaintanceship in +confidence that they were thinking the matter over and thought they +should give it--"and if we do, you will be invited, of course." +People were surprised, and said, one to another, "Why, they are +crazy, those poor Wilsons, they can't afford it." Several among the +nineteen said privately to their husbands, "It is a good idea, we +will keep still till their cheap thing is over, then WE will give +one that will make it sick." + +The days drifted along, and the bill of future squanderings rose +higher and higher, wilder and wilder, more and more foolish and +reckless. It began to look as if every member of the nineteen would +not only spend his whole forty thousand dollars before receiving- +day, but be actually in debt by the time he got the money. In some +cases light-headed people did not stop with planning to spend, they +really spent--on credit. They bought land, mortgages, farms, +speculative stocks, fine clothes, horses, and various other things, +paid down the bonus, and made themselves liable for the rest--at ten +days. Presently the sober second thought came, and Halliday noticed +that a ghastly anxiety was beginning to show up in a good many +faces. Again he was puzzled, and didn't know what to make of it. +"The Wilcox kittens aren't dead, for they weren't born; nobody's +broken a leg; there's no shrinkage in mother-in-laws; NOTHING has +happened--it is an insolvable mystery." + +There was another puzzled man, too--the Rev. Mr. Burgess. For days, +wherever he went, people seemed to follow him or to be watching out +for him; and if he ever found himself in a retired spot, a member of +the nineteen would be sure to appear, thrust an envelope privately +into his hand, whisper "To be opened at the town-hall Friday +evening," then vanish away like a guilty thing. He was expecting +that there might be one claimant for the sack--doubtful, however, +Goodson being dead--but it never occurred to him that all this crowd +might be claimants. When the great Friday came at last, he found +that he had nineteen envelopes. + + +III + + +The town-hall had never looked finer. The platform at the end of it +was backed by a showy draping of flags; at intervals along the walls +were festoons of flags; the gallery fronts were clothed in flags; +the supporting columns were swathed in flags; all this was to +impress the stranger, for he would be there in considerable force, +and in a large degree he would be connected with the press. The +house was full. The 412 fixed seats were occupied; also the 68 +extra chairs which had been packed into the aisles; the steps of the +platform were occupied; some distinguished strangers were given +seats on the platform; at the horseshoe of tables which fenced the +front and sides of the platform sat a strong force of special +correspondents who had come from everywhere. It was the best- +dressed house the town had ever produced. There were some tolerably +expensive toilets there, and in several cases the ladies who wore +them had the look of being unfamiliar with that kind of clothes. At +least the town thought they had that look, but the notion could have +arisen from the town's knowledge of the fact that these ladies had +never inhabited such clothes before. + +The gold-sack stood on a little table at the front of the platform +where all the house could see it. The bulk of the house gazed at it +with a burning interest, a mouth-watering interest, a wistful and +pathetic interest; a minority of nineteen couples gazed at it +tenderly, lovingly, proprietarily, and the male half of this +minority kept saying over to themselves the moving little impromptu +speeches of thankfulness for the audience's applause and +congratulations which they were presently going to get up and +deliver. Every now and then one of these got a piece of paper out +of his vest pocket and privately glanced at it to refresh his +memory. + +Of course there was a buzz of conversation going on--there always +is; but at last, when the Rev. Mr. Burgess rose and laid his hand on +the sack, he could hear his microbes gnaw, the place was so still. +He related the curious history of the sack, then went on to speak in +warm terms of Hadleyburg's old and well-earned reputation for +spotless honesty, and of the town's just pride in this reputation. +He said that this reputation was a treasure of priceless value; that +under Providence its value had now become inestimably enhanced, for +the recent episode had spread this fame far and wide, and thus had +focussed the eyes of the American world upon this village, and made +its name for all time, as he hoped and believed, a synonym for +commercial incorruptibility. [Applause.] "And who is to be the +guardian of this noble fame--the community as a whole? No! The +responsibility is individual, not communal. From this day forth +each and every one of you is in his own person its special guardian, +and individually responsible that no harm shall come to it. Do you- +-does each of you--accept this great trust? [Tumultuous assent.] +Then all is well. Transmit it to your children and to your +children's children. To-day your purity is beyond reproach--see to +it that it shall remain so. To-day there is not a person in your +community who could be beguiled to touch a penny not his own--see to +it that you abide in this grace. ["We will! we will!"] This is not +the place to make comparisons between ourselves and other +communities--some of them ungracious towards us; they have their +ways, we have ours; let us be content. [Applause.] I am done. +Under my hand, my friends, rests a stranger's eloquent recognition +of what we are; through him the world will always henceforth know +what we are. We do not know who he is, but in your name I utter +your gratitude, and ask you to raise your voices in indorsement." + +The house rose in a body and made the walls quake with the thunders +of its thankfulness for the space of a long minute. Then it sat +down, and Mr. Burgess took an envelope out of his pocket. The house +held its breath while he slit the envelope open and took from it a +slip of paper. He read its contents--slowly and impressively--the +audience listening with tranced attention to this magic document, +each of whose words stood for an ingot of gold: + +"'The remark which I made to the distressed stranger was this: "You +are very far from being a bad man; go, and reform."'" Then he +continued:- "We shall know in a moment now whether the remark here +quoted corresponds with the one concealed in the sack; and if that +shall prove to be so--and it undoubtedly will--this sack of gold +belongs to a fellow-citizen who will henceforth stand before the +nation as the symbol of the special virtue which has made our town +famous throughout the land--Mr. Billson!" + +The house had gotten itself all ready to burst into the proper +tornado of applause; but instead of doing it, it seemed stricken +with a paralysis; there was a deep hush for a moment or two, then a +wave of whispered murmurs swept the place--of about this tenor: +"BILLSON! oh, come, this is TOO thin! Twenty dollars to a stranger- +-or ANYBODY--BILLSON! Tell it to the marines!" And now at this +point the house caught its breath all of a sudden in a new access of +astonishment, for it discovered that whereas in one part of the hall +Deacon Billson was standing up with his head weekly bowed, in +another part of it Lawyer Wilson was doing the same. There was a +wondering silence now for a while. Everybody was puzzled, and +nineteen couples were surprised and indignant. + +Billson and Wilson turned and stared at each other. Billson asked, +bitingly: + +"Why do YOU rise, Mr. Wilson?" + +"Because I have a right to. Perhaps you will be good enough to +explain to the house why YOU rise." + +"With great pleasure. Because I wrote that paper." + +"It is an impudent falsity! I wrote it myself." + +It was Burgess's turn to be paralysed. He stood looking vacantly at +first one of the men and then the other, and did not seem to know +what to do. The house was stupefied. Lawyer Wilson spoke up now, +and said: + +"I ask the Chair to read the name signed to that paper." + +That brought the Chair to itself, and it read out the name: + +"John Wharton BILLSON." + +"There!" shouted Billson, "what have you got to say for yourself +now? And what kind of apology are you going to make to me and to +this insulted house for the imposture which you have attempted to +play here?" + +"No apologies are due, sir; and as for the rest of it, I publicly +charge you with pilfering my note from Mr. Burgess and substituting +a copy of it signed with your own name. There is no other way by +which you could have gotten hold of the test-remark; I alone, of +living men, possessed the secret of its wording." + +There was likely to be a scandalous state of things if this went on; +everybody noticed with distress that the shorthand scribes were +scribbling like mad; many people were crying "Chair, chair! Order! +order!" Burgess rapped with his gavel, and said: + +"Let us not forget the proprieties due. There has evidently been a +mistake somewhere, but surely that is all. If Mr. Wilson gave me an +envelope--and I remember now that he did--I still have it." + +He took one out of his pocket, opened it, glanced at it, looked +surprised and worried, and stood silent a few moments. Then he +waved his hand in a wandering and mechanical way, and made an effort +or two to say something, then gave it up, despondently. Several +voices cried out: + +"Read it! read it! What is it?" + +So he began, in a dazed and sleep-walker fashion: + +"'The remark which I made to the unhappy stranger was this: "You +are far from being a bad man. [The house gazed at him marvelling.] +Go, and reform."' [Murmurs: "Amazing! what can this mean?"] This +one," said the Chair, "is signed Thurlow G. Wilson." + +"There!" cried Wilson, "I reckon that settles it! I knew perfectly +well my note was purloined." + +"Purloined!" retorted Billson. "I'll let you know that neither you +nor any man of your kidney must venture to--" + +The Chair: "Order, gentlemen, order! Take your seats, both of you, +please." + +They obeyed, shaking their heads and grumbling angrily. The house +was profoundly puzzled; it did not know what to do with this curious +emergency. Presently Thompson got up. Thompson was the hatter. He +would have liked to be a Nineteener; but such was not for him; his +stock of hats was not considerable enough for the position. He +said: + +"Mr. Chairman, if I may be permitted to make a suggestion, can both +of these gentlemen be right? I put it to you, sir, can both have +happened to say the very same words to the stranger? It seems to +me--" + +The tanner got up and interrupted him. The tanner was a disgruntled +man; he believed himself entitled to be a Nineteener, but he +couldn't get recognition. It made him a little unpleasant in his +ways and speech. Said he: + +"Sho, THAT'S not the point! THAT could happen--twice in a hundred +years--but not the other thing. NEITHER of them gave the twenty +dollars!" [A ripple of applause.] + +Billson. "I did!" + +Wilson. "I did!" + +Then each accused the other of pilfering. + +The Chair. "Order! Sit down, if you please--both of you. Neither +of the notes has been out of my possession at any moment." + +A Voice. "Good--that settles THAT!" + +The Tanner. "Mr. Chairman, one thing is now plain: one of these +men has been eavesdropping under the other one's bed, and filching +family secrets. If it is not unparliamentary to suggest it, I will +remark that both are equal to it. [The Chair. "Order! order!"] I +withdraw the remark, sir, and will confine myself to suggesting that +IF one of them has overheard the other reveal the test-remark to his +wife, we shall catch him now." + +A Voice. "How?" + +The Tanner. "Easily. The two have not quoted the remark in exactly +the same words. You would have noticed that, if there hadn't been a +considerable stretch of time and an exciting quarrel inserted +between the two readings." + +A Voice. "Name the difference." + +The Tanner. "The word VERY is in Billson's note, and not in the +other." + +Many Voices. "That's so--he's right!" + + The Tanner. "And so, if the Chair will examine the test-remark in +the sack, we shall know which of these two frauds--[The Chair. +"Order!"]--which of these two adventurers--[The Chair. "Order! +order!"]--which of these two gentlemen--[laughter and applause]--is +entitled to wear the belt as being the first dishonest blatherskite +ever bred in this town--which he has dishonoured, and which will be +a sultry place for him from now out!" [Vigorous applause.] + +Many Voices. "Open it!--open the sack!" + +Mr. Burgess made a slit in the sack, slid his hand in, and brought +out an envelope. In it were a couple of folded notes. He said: + +"One of these is marked, 'Not to be examined until all written +communications which have been addressed to the Chair--if any--shall +have been read.' The other is marked 'THE TEST.' Allow me. It is +worded--to wit: + +"'I do not require that the first half of the remark which was made +to me by my benefactor shall be quoted with exactness, for it was +not striking, and could be forgotten; but its closing fifteen words +are quite striking, and I think easily rememberable; unless THESE +shall be accurately reproduced, let the applicant be regarded as an +impostor. My benefactor began by saying he seldom gave advice to +anyone, but that it always bore the hallmark of high value when he +did give it. Then he said this--and it has never faded from my +memory: 'YOU ARE FAR FROM BEING A BAD MAN- ''" + +Fifty Voices. "That settles it--the money's Wilson's! Wilson! +Wilson! Speech! Speech!" + +People jumped up and crowded around Wilson, wringing his hand and +congratulating fervently--meantime the Chair was hammering with the +gavel and shouting: + +"Order, gentlemen! Order! Order! Let me finish reading, please." +When quiet was restored, the reading was resumed--as follows: + +"'GO, AND REFORM--OR, MARK MY WORDS--SOME DAY, FOR YOUR SINS YOU +WILL DIE AND GO TO HELL OR HADLEYBURG--TRY AND MAKE IT THE FORMER.'" + +A ghastly silence followed. First an angry cloud began to settle +darkly upon the faces of the citizenship; after a pause the cloud +began to rise, and a tickled expression tried to take its place; +tried so hard that it was only kept under with great and painful +difficulty; the reporters, the Brixtonites, and other strangers bent +their heads down and shielded their faces with their hands, and +managed to hold in by main strength and heroic courtesy. At this +most inopportune time burst upon the stillness the roar of a +solitary voice--Jack Halliday's: + +"THAT'S got the hall-mark on it!" + +Then the house let go, strangers and all. Even Mr. Burgess's +gravity broke down presently, then the audience considered itself +officially absolved from all restraint, and it made the most of its +privilege. It was a good long laugh, and a tempestuously +wholehearted one, but it ceased at last--long enough for Mr. Burgess +to try to resume, and for the people to get their eyes partially +wiped; then it broke out again, and afterward yet again; then at +last Burgess was able to get out these serious words: + +"It is useless to try to disguise the fact--we find ourselves in the +presence of a matter of grave import. It involves the honour of +your town--it strikes at the town's good name. The difference of a +single word between the test-remarks offered by Mr. Wilson and Mr. +Billson was itself a serious thing, since it indicated that one or +the other of these gentlemen had committed a theft--" + +The two men were sitting limp, nerveless, crushed; but at these +words both were electrified into movement, and started to get up. + +"Sit down!" said the Chair, sharply, and they obeyed. "That, as I +have said, was a serious thing. And it was--but for only one of +them. But the matter has become graver; for the honour of BOTH is +now in formidable peril. Shall I go even further, and say in +inextricable peril? BOTH left out the crucial fifteen words." He +paused. During several moments he allowed the pervading stillness +to gather and deepen its impressive effects, then added: "There +would seem to be but one way whereby this could happen. I ask these +gentlemen--Was there COLLUSION?--AGREEMENT?" + +A low murmur sifted through the house; its import was, "He's got +them both." + +Billson was not used to emergencies; he sat in a helpless collapse. +But Wilson was a lawyer. He struggled to his feet, pale and +worried, and said: + +"I ask the indulgence of the house while I explain this most painful +matter. I am sorry to say what I am about to say, since it must +inflict irreparable injury upon Mr. Billson, whom I have always +esteemed and respected until now, and in whose invulnerability to +temptation I entirely believed--as did you all. But for the +preservation of my own honour I must speak--and with frankness. I +confess with shame--and I now beseech your pardon for it--that I +said to the ruined stranger all of the words contained in the test- +remark, including the disparaging fifteen. [Sensation.] When the +late publication was made I recalled them, and I resolved to claim +the sack of coin, for by every right I was entitled to it. Now I +will ask you to consider this point, and weigh it well; that +stranger's gratitude to me that night knew no bounds; he said +himself that he could find no words for it that were adequate, and +that if he should ever be able he would repay me a thousandfold. +Now, then, I ask you this; could I expect--could I believe--could I +even remotely imagine--that, feeling as he did, he would do so +ungrateful a thing as to add those quite unnecessary fifteen words +to his test?--set a trap for me?--expose me as a slanderer of my own +town before my own people assembled in a public hall? It was +preposterous; it was impossible. His test would contain only the +kindly opening clause of my remark. Of that I had no shadow of +doubt. You would have thought as I did. You would not have +expected a base betrayal from one whom you had befriended and +against whom you had committed no offence. And so with perfect +confidence, perfect trust, I wrote on a piece of paper the opening +words--ending with "Go, and reform," --and signed it. When I was +about to put it in an envelope I was called into my back office, and +without thinking I left the paper lying open on my desk." He +stopped, turned his head slowly toward Billson, waited a moment, +then added: "I ask you to note this; when I returned, a little +latter, Mr. Billson was retiring by my street door." [Sensation.] + +In a moment Billson was on his feet and shouting: + +"It's a lie! It's an infamous lie!" + +The Chair. "Be seated, sir! Mr. Wilson has the floor." + +Billson's friends pulled him into his seat and quieted him, and +Wilson went on: + +"Those are the simple facts. My note was now lying in a different +place on the table from where I had left it. I noticed that, but +attached no importance to it, thinking a draught had blown it there. +That Mr. Billson would read a private paper was a thing which could +not occur to me; he was an honourable man, and he would be above +that. If you will allow me to say it, I think his extra word 'VERY' +stands explained: it is attributable to a defect of memory. I was +the only man in the world who could furnish here any detail of the +test-mark--by HONOURABLE means. I have finished." + +There is nothing in the world like a persuasive speech to fuddle the +mental apparatus and upset the convictions and debauch the emotions +of an audience not practised in the tricks and delusions of oratory. +Wilson sat down victorious. The house submerged him in tides of +approving applause; friends swarmed to him and shook him by the hand +and congratulated him, and Billson was shouted down and not allowed +to say a word. The Chair hammered and hammered with its gavel, and +kept shouting: + +"But let us proceed, gentlemen, let us proceed!" + +At last there was a measurable degree of quiet, and the hatter said: + +"But what is there to proceed with, sir, but to deliver the money?" + +Voices. "That's it! That's it! Come forward, Wilson!" + +The Hatter. "I move three cheers for Mr. Wilson, Symbol of the +special virtue which--" + +The cheers burst forth before he could finish; and in the midst of +them--and in the midst of the clamour of the gavel also--some +enthusiasts mounted Wilson on a big friend's shoulder and were going +to fetch him in triumph to the platform. The Chair's voice now rose +above the noise: + +"Order! To your places! You forget that there is still a document +to be read." When quiet had been restored he took up the document, +and was going to read it, but laid it down again saying "I forgot; +this is not to be read until all written communications received by +me have first been read." He took an envelope out of his pocket, +removed its enclosure, glanced at it--seemed astonished--held it out +and gazed at it--stared at it. + +Twenty or thirty voices cried out + +"What is it? Read it! read it!" + +And he did--slowly, and wondering: + +"'The remark which I made to the stranger--[Voices. "Hello! how's +this?"]--was this: 'You are far from being a bad man. [Voices. +"Great Scott!"] Go, and reform.'" [Voice. "Oh, saw my leg off!"] +Signed by Mr. Pinkerton the banker." + +The pandemonium of delight which turned itself loose now was of a +sort to make the judicious weep. Those whose withers were unwrung +laughed till the tears ran down; the reporters, in throes of +laughter, set down disordered pot-hooks which would never in the +world be decipherable; and a sleeping dog jumped up scared out of +its wits, and barked itself crazy at the turmoil. All manner of +cries were scattered through the din: "We're getting rich--TWO +Symbols of Incorruptibility!--without counting Billson!" "THREE!-- +count Shadbelly in--we can't have too many!" "All right--Billson's +elected!" "Alas, poor Wilson! victim of TWO thieves!" + +A Powerful Voice. "Silence! The Chair's fished up something more +out of its pocket." + +Voices. "Hurrah! Is it something fresh? Read it! read! read!" + +The Chair [reading]. "'The remark which I made,' etc. 'You are far +from being a bad man. Go,' etc. Signed, 'Gregory Yates.'" + +Tornado of Voices. "Four Symbols!" "'Rah for Yates!" "Fish +again!" + +The house was in a roaring humour now, and ready to get all the fun +out of the occasion that might be in it. Several Nineteeners, +looking pale and distressed, got up and began to work their way +towards the aisles, but a score of shouts went up: + +"The doors, the doors--close the doors; no Incorruptible shall leave +this place! Sit down, everybody!" The mandate was obeyed. + +"Fish again! Read! read!" + +The Chair fished again, and once more the familiar words began to +fall from its lips--"'You are far from being a bad man--'" + +"Name! name! What's his name?" + +"'L. Ingoldsby Sargent.'" + +"Five elected! Pile up the Symbols! Go on, go on!" + +"'You are far from being a bad--'" + +"Name! name!" + +"'Nicholas Whitworth.'" + +"Hooray! hooray! it's a symbolical day!" + +Somebody wailed in, and began to sing this rhyme (leaving out +"it's") to the lovely "Mikado" tune of "When a man's afraid of a +beautiful maid;" the audience joined in, with joy; then, just in +time, somebody contributed another line - + + +"And don't you this forget--" + + +The house roared it out. A third line was at once furnished - + + +"Corruptibles far from Hadleyburg are--" + + +The house roared that one too. As the last note died, Jack +Halliday's voice rose high and clear, freighted with a final line - + + +"But the Symbols are here, you bet!" + + +That was sung, with booming enthusiasm. Then the happy house +started in at the beginning and sang the four lines through twice, +with immense swing and dash, and finished up with a crashing three- +times-three and a tiger for "Hadleyburg the Incorruptible and all +Symbols of it which we shall find worthy to receive the hall-mark +to-night." + +Then the shoutings at the Chair began again, all over the place: + +"Go on! go on! Read! read some more! Read all you've got!" + +"That's it--go on! We are winning eternal celebrity!" + +A dozen men got up now and began to protest. They said that this +farce was the work of some abandoned joker, and was an insult to the +whole community. Without a doubt these signatures were all +forgeries - + +"Sit down! sit down! Shut up! You are confessing. We'll find your +names in the lot." + +"Mr. Chairman, how many of those envelopes have you got?" + +The Chair counted. + +"Together with those that have been already examined, there are +nineteen." + +A storm of derisive applause broke out. + +"Perhaps they all contain the secret. I move that you open them all +and read every signature that is attached to a note of that sort-- +and read also the first eight words of the note." + +"Second the motion!" + +It was put and carried--uproariously. Then poor old Richards got +up, and his wife rose and stood at his side. Her head was bent +down, so that none might see that she was crying. Her husband gave +her his arm, and so supporting her, he began to speak in a quavering +voice: + +"My friends, you have known us two--Mary and me--all our lives, and +I think you have liked us and respected us--" + +The Chair interrupted him: + +"Allow me. It is quite true--that which you are saying, Mr. +Richards; this town DOES know you two; it DOES like you; it DOES +respect you; more--it honours you and LOVES you--" + +Halliday's voice rang out: + +"That's the hall-marked truth, too! If the Chair is right, let the +house speak up and say it. Rise! Now, then--hip! hip! hip!--all +together!" + +The house rose in mass, faced toward the old couple eagerly, filled +the air with a snow-storm of waving handkerchiefs, and delivered the +cheers with all its affectionate heart. + +The Chair then continued: + +"What I was going to say is this: We know your good heart, Mr. +Richards, but this is not a time for the exercise of charity toward +offenders. [Shouts of "Right! right!"] I see your generous purpose +in your face, but I cannot allow you to plead for these men--" + +"But I was going to--" + +"Please take your seat, Mr. Richards. We must examine the rest of +these notes--simple fairness to the men who have already been +exposed requires this. As soon as that has been done--I give you my +word for this--you shall he heard." + +Many voices. "Right!--the Chair is right--no interruption can be +permitted at this stage! Go on!--the names! the names!--according +to the terms of the motion!" + +The old couple sat reluctantly down, and the husband whispered to +the wife, "It is pitifully hard to have to wait; the shame will be +greater than ever when they find we were only going to plead for +OURSELVES." + +Straightway the jollity broke loose again with the reading of the +names. + +"'You are far from being a bad man--' Signature, 'Robert J. +Titmarsh.'" + +'"You are far from being a bad man--' Signature, 'Eliphalet Weeks.'" + +"'You are far from being a bad man--' Signature, 'Oscar B. Wilder.'" + +At this point the house lit upon the idea of taking the eight words +out of the Chairman's hands. He was not unthankful for that. +Thenceforward he held up each note in its turn and waited. The +house droned out the eight words in a massed and measured and +musical deep volume of sound (with a daringly close resemblance to a +well-known church chant)--"You are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-a-d +man." Then the Chair said, "Signature, 'Archibald Wilcox.'" And so +on, and so on, name after name, and everybody had an increasingly +and gloriously good time except the wretched Nineteen. Now and +then, when a particularly shining name was called, the house made +the Chair wait while it chanted the whole of the test-remark from +the beginning to the closing words, "And go to hell or Hadleyburg-- +try and make it the for-or-m-e-r!" and in these special cases they +added a grand and agonised and imposing "A-a-a-a-MEN!" + +The list dwindled, dwindled, dwindled, poor old Richards keeping +tally of the count, wincing when a name resembling his own was +pronounced, and waiting in miserable suspense for the time to come +when it would be his humiliating privilege to rise with Mary and +finish his plea, which he was intending to word thus: ". . . for +until now we have never done any wrong thing, but have gone our +humble way unreproached. We are very poor, we are old, and, have no +chick nor child to help us; we were sorely tempted, and we fell. It +was my purpose when I got up before to make confession and beg that +my name might not be read out in this public place, for it seemed to +us that we could not bear it; but I was prevented. It was just; it +was our place to suffer with the rest. It has been hard for us. It +is the first time we have ever heard our name fall from any one's +lips--sullied. Be merciful--for the sake or the better days; make +our shame as light to bear as in your charity you can." At this +point in his reverie Mary nudged him, perceiving that his mind was +absent. The house was chanting, "You are f-a-r," etc. + +"Be ready," Mary whispered. "Your name comes now; he has read +eighteen." + +The chant ended. + +"Next! next! next!" came volleying from all over the house. + +Burgess put his hand into his pocket. The old couple, trembling, +began to rise. Burgess fumbled a moment, then said: + +"I find I have read them all." + +Faint with joy and surprise, the couple sank into their seats, and +Mary whispered: + +"Oh, bless God, we are saved!--he has lost ours--I wouldn't give +this for a hundred of those sacks!" + +The house burst out with its "Mikado" travesty, and sang it three +times with ever-increasing enthusiasm, rising to its feet when it +reached for the third time the closing line - + + +"But the Symbols are here, you bet!" + + +and finishing up with cheers and a tiger for "Hadleyburg purity and +our eighteen immortal representatives of it." + +Then Wingate, the saddler, got up and proposed cheers "for the +cleanest man in town, the one solitary important citizen in it who +didn't try to steal that money--Edward Richards." + +They were given with great and moving heartiness; then somebody +proposed that "Richards be elected sole Guardian and Symbol of the +now Sacred Hadleyburg Tradition, with power and right to stand up +and look the whole sarcastic world in the face." + +Passed, by acclamation; then they sang the "Mikado" again, and ended +it with - + + +"And there's ONE Symbol left, you bet!" + + +There was a pause; then - + +A Voice. "Now, then, who's to get the sack?" + +The Tanner (with bitter sarcasm). "That's easy. The money has to +be divided among the eighteen Incorruptibles. They gave the +suffering stranger twenty dollars apiece--and that remark--each in +his turn--it took twenty-two minutes for the procession to move +past. Staked the stranger--total contribution, $360. All they want +is just the loan back--and interest--forty thousand dollars +altogether." + +Many Voices [derisively.] "That's it! Divvy! divvy! Be kind to +the poor--don't keep them waiting!" + +The Chair. "Order! I now offer the stranger's remaining document. +It says: 'If no claimant shall appear [grand chorus of groans], I +desire that you open the sack and count out the money to the +principal citizens of your town, they to take it in trust [Cries of +"Oh! Oh! Oh!"], and use it in such ways as to them shall seem best +for the propagation and preservation of your community's noble +reputation for incorruptible honesty [more cries]--a reputation to +which their names and their efforts will add a new and far-reaching +lustre." [Enthusiastic outburst of sarcastic applause.] That seems +to be all. No--here is a postscript: + +"'P.S.--CITIZENS OF HADLEYBURG: There IS no test-remark--nobody +made one. [Great sensation.] There wasn't any pauper stranger, nor +any twenty-dollar contribution, nor any accompanying benediction and +compliment--these are all inventions. [General buzz and hum of +astonishment and delight.] Allow me to tell my story--it will take +but a word or two. I passed through your town at a certain time, +and received a deep offence which I had not earned. Any other man +would have been content to kill one or two of you and call it +square, but to me that would have been a trivial revenge, and +inadequate; for the dead do not SUFFER. Besides I could not kill you +all--and, anyway, made as I am, even that would not have satisfied +me. I wanted to damage every man in the place, and every woman--and +not in their bodies or in their estate, but in their vanity--the +place where feeble and foolish people are most vulnerable. So I +disguised myself and came back and studied you. You were easy game. +You had an old and lofty reputation for honesty, and naturally you +were proud of it--it was your treasure of treasures, the very apple +of your eye. As soon as I found out that you carefully and +vigilantly kept yourselves and your children OUT OF TEMPTATION, I +knew how to proceed. Why, you simple creatures, the weakest of all +weak things is a virtue which has not been tested in the fire. I +laid a plan, and gathered a list of names. My project was to +corrupt Hadleyburg the Incorruptible. My idea was to make liars and +thieves of nearly half a hundred smirchless men and women who had +never in their lives uttered a lie or stolen a penny. I was afraid +of Goodson. He was neither born nor reared in Hadleyburg. I was +afraid that if I started to operate my scheme by getting my letter +laid before you, you would say to yourselves, 'Goodson is the only +man among us who would give away twenty dollars to a poor devil'-- +and then you might not bite at my bait. But heaven took Goodson; +then I knew I was safe, and I set my trap and baited it. It may be +that I shall not catch all the men to whom I mailed the pretended +test-secret, but I shall catch the most of them, if I know +Hadleyburg nature. [Voices. "Right--he got every last one of +them."] I believe they will even steal ostensible GAMBLE-money, +rather than miss, poor, tempted, and mistrained fellows. I am +hoping to eternally and everlastingly squelch your vanity and give +Hadleyburg a new renown--one that will STICK--and spread far. If I +have succeeded, open the sack and summon the Committee on +Propagation and Preservation of the Hadleyburg Reputation.'" + +A Cyclone of Voices. "Open it! Open it! The Eighteen to the +front! Committee on Propagation of the Tradition! Forward--the +Incorruptibles!" + +The Chair ripped the sack wide, and gathered up a handful of bright, +broad, yellow coins, shook them together, then examined them. + +"Friends, they are only gilded disks of lead!" + +There was a crashing outbreak of delight over this news, and when +the noise had subsided, the tanner called out: + +"By right of apparent seniority in this business, Mr. Wilson is +Chairman of the Committee on Propagation of the Tradition. I +suggest that he step forward on behalf of his pals, and receive in +trust the money." + +A Hundred Voices. "Wilson! Wilson! Wilson! Speech! Speech!" + +Wilson [in a voice trembling with anger]. "You will allow me to +say, and without apologies for my language, DAMN the money!" + +A Voice. "Oh, and him a Baptist!" + +A Voice. "Seventeen Symbols left! Step up, gentlemen, and assume +your trust!" + +There was a pause--no response. + +The Saddler. "Mr. Chairman, we've got ONE clean man left, anyway, +out of the late aristocracy; and he needs money, and deserves it. I +move that you appoint Jack Halliday to get up there and auction off +that sack of gilt twenty-dollar pieces, and give the result to the +right man--the man whom Hadleyburg delights to honour--Edward +Richards." + +This was received with great enthusiasm, the dog taking a hand +again; the saddler started the bids at a dollar, the Brixton folk +and Barnum's representative fought hard for it, the people cheered +every jump that the bids made, the excitement climbed moment by +moment higher and higher, the bidders got on their mettle and grew +steadily more and more daring, more and more determined, the jumps +went from a dollar up to five, then to ten, then to twenty, then +fifty, then to a hundred, then - + +At the beginning of the auction Richards whispered in distress to +his wife: "Oh, Mary, can we allow it? It--it --you see, it is an +honour--reward, a testimonial to purity of character, and--and--can +we allow it? Hadn't I better get up and--Oh, Mary, what ought we to +do?--what do you think we--" [Halliday's voice. "Fifteen I'm bid!-- +fifteen for the sack!--twenty!--ah, thanks!--thirty--thanks again! +Thirty, thirty, thirty!--do I hear forty?--forty it is! Keep the +ball rolling, gentlemen, keep it rolling!--fifty! --thanks, noble +Roman!--going at fifty, fifty, fifty!--seventy! --ninety!-- +splendid!--a hundred!--pile it up, pile it up!--hundred and twenty-- +forty!--just in time!--hundred and fifty!--Two hundred!--superb! Do +I hear two h--thanks! --two hundred and fifty!--"] + +"It is another temptation, Edward--I'm all in a tremble --but, oh, +we've escaped one temptation, and that ought to warn us, to--["Six +did I hear?--thanks!--six fifty, six f--SEVEN hundred!"] And yet, +Edward, when you think--nobody susp--["Eight hundred dollars!-- +hurrah!--make it nine!--Mr. Parsons, did I hear you say--thanks!-- +nine!--this noble sack of virgin lead going at only nine hundred +dollars, gilding and all-- come! do I hear--a thousand!--gratefully +yours!--did some one say eleven?--a sack which is going to be the +most celebrated in the whole Uni--"] "Oh, Edward" (beginning to +sob), "we are so poor!--but--but--do as you think best--do as you +think best." + +Edward fell--that is, he sat still; sat with a conscience which was +not satisfied, but which was overpowered by circumstances. + +Meantime a stranger, who looked like an amateur detective gotten up +as an impossible English earl, had been watching the evening's +proceedings with manifest interest, and with a contented expression +in his face; and he had been privately commenting to himself. He +was now soliloquising somewhat like this: 'None of the Eighteen are +bidding; that is not satisfactory; I must change that--the dramatic +unities require it; they must buy the sack they tried to steal; they +must pay a heavy price, too--some of them are rich. And another +thing, when I make a mistake in Hadleyburg nature the man that puts +that error upon me is entitled to a high honorarium, and some one +must pay. This poor old Richards has brought my judgment to shame; +he is an honest man:--I don't understand it, but I acknowledge it. +Yes, he saw my deuces--AND with a straight flush, and by rights the +pot is his. And it shall be a jack-pot, too, if I can manage it. +He disappointed me, but let that pass." + +He was watching the bidding. At a thousand, the market broke: the +prices tumbled swiftly. He waited--and still watched. One +competitor dropped out; then another, and another. He put in a bid +or two now. When the bids had sunk to ten dollars, he added a five; +some one raised him a three; he waited a moment, then flung in a +fifty-dollar jump, and the sack was his--at $1,282. The house broke +out in cheers--then stopped; for he was on his feet, and had lifted +his hand. He began to speak. + +"I desire to say a word, and ask a favour. I am a speculator in +rarities, and I have dealings with persons interested in numismatics +all over the world. I can make a profit on this purchase, just as +it stands; but there is a way, if I can get your approval, whereby I +can make every one of these leaden twenty-dollar pieces worth its +face in gold, and perhaps more. Grant me that approval, and I will +give part of my gains to your Mr. Richards, whose invulnerable +probity you have so justly and so cordially recognised tonight; his +share shall be ten thousand dollars, and I will hand him the money +to-morrow. [Great applause from the house. But the "invulnerable +probity" made the Richardses blush prettily; however, it went for +modesty, and did no harm.] If you will pass my proposition by a +good majority--I would like a two-thirds vote--I will regard that as +the town's consent, and that is all I ask. Rarities are always +helped by any device which will rouse curiosity and compel remark. +Now if I may have your permission to stamp upon the faces of each of +these ostensible coins the names of the eighteen gentlemen who--" + +Nine-tenths of the audience were on their feet in a moment--dog and +all--and the proposition was carried with a whirlwind of approving +applause and laughter. + +They sat down, and all the Symbols except "Dr." Clay Harkness got +up, violently protesting against the proposed outrage, and +threatening to - + +"I beg you not to threaten me," said the stranger calmly. "I know +my legal rights, and am not accustomed to being frightened at +bluster." [Applause.] He sat down. "Dr." Harkness saw an +opportunity here. He was one of the two very rich men of the place, +and Pinkerton was the other. Harkness was proprietor of a mint; +that is to say, a popular patent medicine. He was running for the +Legislature on one ticket, and Pinkerton on the other. It was a +close race and a hot one, and getting hotter every day. Both had +strong appetites for money; each had bought a great tract of land, +with a purpose; there was going to be a new railway, and each wanted +to be in the Legislature and help locate the route to his own +advantage; a single vote might make the decision, and with it two or +three fortunes. The stake was large, and Harkness was a daring +speculator. He was sitting close to the stranger. He leaned over +while one or another of the other Symbols was entertaining the house +with protests and appeals, and asked, in a whisper, + +"What is your price for the sack?" + +"Forty thousand dollars." + +"I'll give you twenty." + +"No." + +"Twenty-five." + +"No." + +"Say thirty." + +"The price is forty thousand dollars; not a penny less." + +"All right, I'll give it. I will come to the hotel at ten in the +morning. I don't want it known; will see you privately." + +"Very good." Then the stranger got up and said to the house: + +"I find it late. The speeches of these gentlemen are not without +merit, not without interest, not without grace; yet if I may he +excused I will take my leave. I thank you for the great favour +which you have shown me in granting my petition. I ask the Chair to +keep the sack for me until to-morrow, and to hand these three five- +hundred-dollar notes to Mr. Richards." They were passed up to the +Chair. + +"At nine I will call for the sack, and at eleven will deliver the +rest of the ten thousand to Mr. Richards in person at his home. +Good-night." + +Then he slipped out, and left the audience making a vast noise, +which was composed of a mixture of cheers, the "Mikado" song, dog- +disapproval, and the chant, "You are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-d man- +-a-a-a a-men!" + + +IV + + +At home the Richardses had to endure congratulations and compliments +until midnight. Then they were left to themselves. They looked a +little sad, and they sat silent and thinking. Finally Mary sighed +and said: + +"Do you think we are to blame, Edward--MUCH to blame?" and her eyes +wandered to the accusing triplet of big bank-notes lying on the +table, where the congratulators had been gloating over them and +reverently fingering them. Edward did not answer at once; then he +brought out a sigh and said, hesitatingly: + +"We--we couldn't help it, Mary. It--well it was ordered. ALL +things are." + +Mary glanced up and looked at him steadily, but he didn't return the +look. Presently she said: + +"I thought congratulations and praises always tasted good. But--it +seems to me, now-- Edward?" + +"Well?" + +"Are you going to stay in the bank?" + +"N--no." + +"Resign?" + +"In the morning--by note." + +"It does seem best." + +Richards bowed his head in his hands and muttered: + +"Before I was not afraid to let oceans of people's money pour +through my hands, but-- Mary, I am so tired, so tired--" + +"We will go to bed." + +At nine in the morning the stranger called for the sack and took it +to the hotel in a cab. At ten Harkness had a talk with him +privately. The stranger asked for and got five cheques on a +metropolitan bank--drawn to "Bearer,"--four for $1,500 each, and one +for $34,000. He put one of the former in his pocket-book, and the +remainder, representing $38,500, he put in an envelope, and with +these he added a note which he wrote after Harkness was gone. At +eleven he called at the Richards' house and knocked. Mrs. Richards +peeped through the shutters, then went and received the envelope, +and the stranger disappeared without a word. She came back flushed +and a little unsteady on her legs, and gasped out: + +"I am sure I recognised him! Last night it seemed to me that maybe +I had seen him somewhere before." + +"He is the man that brought the sack here?" + +"I am almost sure of it." + +"Then he is the ostensible Stephenson too, and sold every important +citizen in this town with his bogus secret. Now if he has sent +cheques instead of money, we are sold too, after we thought we had +escaped. I was beginning to feel fairly comfortable once more, +after my night's rest, but the look of that envelope makes me sick. +It isn't fat enough; $8,500 in even the largest bank-notes makes +more bulk than that." + +"Edward, why do you object to cheques?" + +"Cheques signed by Stephenson! I am resigned to take the $8,500 if +it could come in bank-notes--for it does seem that it was so +ordered, Mary--but I have never had much courage, and I have not the +pluck to try to market a cheque signed with that disastrous name. +It would be a trap. That man tried to catch me; we escaped somehow +or other; and now he is trying a new way. If it is cheques--" + +"Oh, Edward, it is TOO bad!" And she held up the cheques and began +to cry. + +"Put them in the fire! quick! we mustn't be tempted. It is a trick +to make the world laugh at US, along with the rest, and-- Give them +to ME, since you can't do it!" He snatched them and tried to hold +his grip till he could get to the stove; but he was human, he was a +cashier, and he stopped a moment to make sure of the signature. +Then he came near to fainting. + +"Fan me, Mary, fan me! They are the same as gold!" + +"Oh, how lovely, Edward! Why?" + +"Signed by Harkness. What can the mystery of that be, Mary?" + +"Edward, do you think--" + +"Look here--look at this! Fifteen--fifteen--fifteen--thirty-four. +Thirty-eight thousand five hundred! Mary, the sack isn't worth +twelve dollars, and Harkness--apparently--has paid about par for +it." + +"And does it all come to us, do you think--instead of the ten +thousand?" + +"Why, it looks like it. And the cheques are made to 'Bearer,' too." + +"Is that good, Edward? What is it for?" + +"A hint to collect them at some distant bank, I reckon. Perhaps +Harkness doesn't want the matter known. What is that--a note?" + +"Yes. It was with the cheques." + +It was in the "Stephenson" handwriting, but there was no signature. +It said: + + +"I am a disappointed man. Your honesty is beyond the reach of +temptation. I had a different idea about it, but I wronged you in +that, and I beg pardon, and do it sincerely. I honour you--and that +is sincere too. This town is not worthy to kiss the hem of your +garment. Dear sir, I made a square bet with myself that there were +nineteen debauchable men in your self-righteous community. I have +lost. Take the whole pot, you are entitled to it." + + +Richards drew a deep sigh, and said: + +"It seems written with fire--it burns so. Mary--I am miserable +again." + +"I, too. Ah, dear, I wish--" + +"To think, Mary--he BELIEVES in me." + +"Oh, don't, Edward--I can't bear it." + +"If those beautiful words were deserved, Mary--and God knows I +believed I deserved them once--I think I could give the forty +thousand dollars for them. And I would put that paper away, as +representing more than gold and jewels, and keep it always. But +now-- We could not live in the shadow of its accusing presence, +Mary." + +He put it in the fire. + +A messenger arrived and delivered an envelope. Richards took from +it a note and read it; it was from Burgess: + + +"You saved me, in a difficult time. I saved you last night. It was +at cost of a lie, but I made the sacrifice freely, and out of a +grateful heart. None in this village knows so well as I know how +brave and good and noble you are. At bottom you cannot respect me, +knowing as you do of that matter of which I am accused, and by the +general voice condemned; but I beg that you will at least believe +that I am a grateful man; it will help me to bear my burden. +[Signed] 'BURGESS.'" + + +"Saved, once more. And on such terms!" He put the note in the +lire. "I--I wish I were dead, Mary, I wish I were out of it all!" + +"Oh, these are bitter, bitter days, Edward. The stabs, through +their very generosity, are so deep--and they come so fast!" + +Three days before the election each of two thousand voters suddenly +found himself in possession of a prized memento--one of the renowned +bogus double-eagles. Around one of its faces was stamped these +words: "THE REMARK I MADE TO THE POOR STRANGER WAS--" Around the +other face was stamped these: "GO, AND REFORM. [SIGNED] +PINKERTON." Thus the entire remaining refuse of the renowned joke +was emptied upon a single head, and with calamitous effect. It +revived the recent vast laugh and concentrated it upon Pinkerton; +and Harkness's election was a walk-over. + +Within twenty-four hours after the Richardses had received their +cheques their consciences were quieting down, discouraged; the old +couple were learning to reconcile themselves to the sin which they +had committed. But they were to learn, now, that a sin takes on new +and real terrors when there seems a chance that it is going to be +found out. This gives it a fresh and most substantial and important +aspect. At church the morning sermon was of the usual pattern; it +was the same old things said in the same old way; they had heard +them a thousand times and found them innocuous, next to meaningless, +and easy to sleep under; but now it was different: the sermon +seemed to bristle with accusations; it seemed aimed straight and +specially at people who were concealing deadly sins. After church +they got away from the mob of congratulators as soon as they could, +and hurried homeward, chilled to the bone at they did not know what- +-vague, shadowy, indefinite fears. And by chance they caught a +glimpse of Mr. Burgess as he turned a corner. He paid no attention +to their nod of recognition! He hadn't seen it; but they did not +know that. What could his conduct mean? It might mean--it might-- +mean--oh, a dozen dreadful things. Was it possible that he knew +that Richards could have cleared him of guilt in that bygone time, +and had been silently waiting for a chance to even up accounts? At +home, in their distress they got to imagining that their servant +might have been in the next room listening when Richards revealed +the secret to his wife that he knew of Burgess's innocence; next +Richards began to imagine that he had heard the swish of a gown in +there at that time; next, he was sure he HAD heard it. They would +call Sarah in, on a pretext, and watch her face; if she had been +betraying them to Mr. Burgess, it would show in her manner. They +asked her some questions--questions which were so random and +incoherent and seemingly purposeless that the girl felt sure that +the old people's minds had been affected by their sudden good +fortune; the sharp and watchful gaze which they bent upon her +frightened her, and that completed the business. She blushed, she +became nervous and confused, and to the old people these were plain +signs of guilt--guilt of some fearful sort or other--without doubt +she was a spy and a traitor. When they were alone again they began +to piece many unrelated things together and get horrible results out +of the combination. When things had got about to the worst Richards +was delivered of a sudden gasp and his wife asked: + +"Oh, what is it?--what is it?" + +"The note--Burgess's note! Its language was sarcastic, I see it +now." He quoted: "'At bottom you cannot respect me, KNOWING, as +you do, of THAT MATTER OF which I am accused'--oh, it is perfectly +plain, now, God help me! He knows that I know! You see the +ingenuity of the phrasing. It was a trap--and like a fool, I walked +into it. And Mary--!" + +"Oh, it is dreadful--I know what you are going to say --he didn't +return your transcript of the pretended test-remark." + +"No--kept it to destroy us with. Mary, he has exposed us to some +already. I know it--I know it well. I saw it in a dozen faces +after church. Ah, he wouldn't answer our nod of recognition--he +knew what he had been doing!" + +In the night the doctor was called. The news went around in the +morning that the old couple were rather seriously ill--prostrated by +the exhausting excitement growing out of their great windfall, the +congratulations, and the late hours, the doctor said. The town was +sincerely distressed; for these old people were about all it had +left to be proud of, now. + +Two days later the news was worse. The old couple were delirious, +and were doing strange things. By witness of the nurses, Richards +had exhibited cheques--for $8,500? No--for an amazing sum--$38,500! +What could be the explanation of this gigantic piece of luck? + +The following day the nurses had more news--and wonderful. They had +concluded to hide the cheques, lest harm come to them; but when they +searched they were gone from under the patient's pillow--vanished +away. The patient said: + +"Let the pillow alone; what do you want?" + +"We thought it best that the cheques--" + +"You will never see them again--they are destroyed. They came from +Satan. I saw the hell-brand on them, and I knew they were sent to +betray me to sin." Then he fell to gabbling strange and dreadful +things which were not clearly understandable, and which the doctor +admonished them to keep to themselves. + +Richards was right; the cheques were never seen again. + +A nurse must have talked in her sleep, for within two days the +forbidden gabblings were the property of the town; and they were of +a surprising sort. They seemed to indicate that Richards had been a +claimant for the sack himself, and that Burgess had concealed that +fact and then maliciously betrayed it. + +Burgess was taxed with this and stoutly denied it. And he said it +was not fair to attach weight to the chatter of a sick old man who +was out of his mind. Still, suspicion was in the air, and there was +much talk. + +After a day or two it was reported that Mrs. Richards's delirious +deliveries were getting to be duplicates of her husband's. +Suspicion flamed up into conviction, now, and the town's pride in +the purity of its one undiscredited important citizen began to dim +down and flicker toward extinction. + +Six days passed, then came more news. The old couple were dying. +Richards's mind cleared in his latest hour, and he sent for Burgess. +Burgess said: + +"Let the room be cleared. I think he wishes to say something in +privacy." + +"No!" said Richards; "I want witnesses. I want you all to hear my +confession, so that I may die a man, and not a dog. I was clean-- +artificially--like the rest; and like the rest I fell when +temptation came. I signed a lie, and claimed the miserable sack. +Mr. Burgess remembered that I had done him a service, and in +gratitude (and ignorance) he suppressed my claim and saved me. You +know the thing that was charged against Burgess years ago. My +testimony, and mine alone, could have cleared him, and I was a +coward and left him to suffer disgrace--" + +"No--no--Mr. Richards, you--" + +"My servant betrayed my secret to him--" + +"No one has betrayed anything to me--" + +- "And then he did a natural and justifiable thing; he repented of +the saving kindness which he had done me, and he EXPOSED me--as I +deserved--" + +"Never!--I make oath--" + +"Out of my heart I forgive him." + +Burgess's impassioned protestations fell upon deaf ears; the dying +man passed away without knowing that once more he had done poor +Burgess a wrong. The old wife died that night. + +The last of the sacred Nineteen had fallen a prey to the fiendish +sack; the town was stripped of the last rag of its ancient glory. +Its mourning was not showy, but it was deep. + +By act of the Legislature--upon prayer and petition--Hadleyburg was +allowed to change its name to (never mind what--I will not give it +away), and leave one word out of the motto that for many generations +had graced the town's official seal. + +It is an honest town once more, and the man will have to rise early +that catches it napping again. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg eText The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg + diff --git a/old/old/old/hdlyb10.zip b/old/old/old/hdlyb10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0646fa0 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/old/hdlyb10.zip |
