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diff --git a/old/12732-0.txt b/old/12732-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..44792cb --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12732-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9091 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Collection of Short-Stories + +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: A Collection of Short-Stories + +Author: Various + +Editor: L.A. Pittenger + +Release Date: June 25, 2004 [eBook #12732] +[Most recently updated: May 20, 2022] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: Charles Aldarondo, Keith M. Eckrich, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A COLLECTION OF SHORT-STORIES *** + + + + +A Collection of Short-Stories + +EDITED BY +L.A. PITTENGER, A.M., +CRITIC IN ENGLISH, INDIANA UNIVERSITY + +New York: +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY, +1914 + + +Set up and electrotyped. Published November, 1913. Reprinted January, +1914. + +Norwood Press, +J.S. Cushing Co.—Berwick & Smith Co., +Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. + + + + +Contents + + A PREFATORY NOTE + INTRODUCTION: + History of the Short-story + Qualities of the Short-story + Composition of the Short-story + Books for Reference + Collections of Short-stories + THE FATHER. 1860. Björnstjerne Björnson. + THE GRIFFIN AND THE MINOR CANON. 1887. Frank R. Stockton. + THE PIECE OF STRING. 1884. Guy de Maupassant. + THE MAN WHO WAS. 1889. Rudyard Kipling. + THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER. 1839. Edgar Allan Poe. + THE GOLD-BUG. 1843. Edgar Allan Poe. + THE BIRTHMARK. 1843. Nathaniel Hawthorne. + ETHAN BRAND. 1848. Nathaniel Hawthorne. + THE SIRE DE MALÉTROIT'S DOOR. 1878. Robert Louis Stevenson. + MARKHEIM. 1884. Robert Louis Stevenson. + + + + +A PREFATORY NOTE + + +This collection of short-stories does not illustrate the history of +short-story writing, nor does it pretend that these are the ten best +stories ever written, but it does attempt to present selections from a +list of the greatest short-stories that have proved, in actual use, +most beneficial to high school students. + +The introduction presents a concise statement of the essentials of the +history, qualities, and composition of the short-story. A brief +biography of each author and a criticism covering the main +characteristics of his writings serve as starting points for the +recitation. The references following both the biography and criticism +are given in order that the study of the short-story may be amplified, +and that high school teachers may build a systematic and serviceable +library about their class work in the teaching of the story. The +collateral readings, listed after each story, will aid in the creation +of a suitable atmosphere for the story studied, and explain many +questions developed in the recitation. Only such definitions as are not +easily found in school dictionaries are included in the notes. + + + + +INTRODUCTION + +HISTORY OF THE SHORT-STORY + +Just when, where, and by whom story-telling was begun no one can say. +From the first use of speech, no doubt, our ancestors have told stories +of war, love, mysteries, and the miraculous performances of lower +animals and inanimate objects. The ultimate source of all stories lies +in a thorough democracy, unhampered by the restrictions of a higher +civilization. Many tales spring from a loathsome filth that is +extremely obnoxious to our present day tastes. The remarkable and +gratifying truth is, however, that the short-story, beginning in the +crude and brutal stages of man's development, has gradually unfolded to +greater and more useful possibilities, until in our own time it is a +most flexible and moral literary form. + +The first historical evidence in the development of the story shows no +conception of a short-story other than that it is not so long as other +narratives. This judgment of the short-story obtained until the +beginning of the nineteenth century, when a new version of its meaning +was given, and an enlarged vision of its possibilities was experienced +by a number of writers almost simultaneously. In the early centuries of +story-telling there was only one purpose in mind—that of narrating for +the joy of the telling and hearing. The story-tellers sacrificed unity +and totality of effect as well as originality for an entertaining +method of reciting their incidents. + +The story of _Ruth_ and the _Prodigal Son_ are excellent short tales, +but they do not fulfill the requirements of our modern short-story for +the reason that they are not constructed for one single impression, but +are in reality parts of possible longer stories. They are, as it were, +parts of stories not unlike _Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_ and _A Lear of +the Steppes_, and lack those complete and concise artistic effects +found in the short-stories, _Markheim_ and _Mumu_, by the same authors. +Both _Ruth_ and the _Prodigal Son_ are exceptionally well told, possess +a splendid moral tone, and are excellent prophecies of what the +nineteenth century has developed for us in the art of short-story +writing. + +The Greeks did very little writing in prose until the era of their +decadence, and showed little instinct to use the concise and unified +form of the short-story. The conquering Romans followed closely in the +paths of their predecessors and did little work in the shorter +narratives. The myths of Greece and Rome were not bound by facts, and +opened a wonderland where writers were free to roam. The epics were +slow in movement, and presented a list of loosely organized stories +arranged about some character like Ulysses or AEneas. + +During the mediaeval period story-tellers and stories appeared +everywhere. The more ignorant of these story-tellers produced the +fable, and the educated monks produced the simple, crude and disjointed +tales. The _Gesta Romanorum_ is a wonderful storehouse of these +mediaeval stories. In the _Decameron_ Boccaccio deals with traditional +and contemporary materials. He is a born story-teller and presents many +interesting and well-told narratives, but as Professor Baldwin[1] has +said, more than half are merely anecdotes, and the remaining stories +are bare plots, ingeniously done in a kind of scenario form. Three +approach our modern idea of the short-story, and two, the second story +of the second day and the sixth story of the ninth day, actually attain +to our standard. Boccaccio was not conscious of a standard in +short-story telling, for he had none in the sense that Poe and +Maupassant defined and practiced it. Chaucer in England told his +stories in verse and added the charm of humor and well defined +characters to the development of story-telling. + +In the seventeenth century Cervantes gave the world its first great +novel, _Don Quixote_. Cervantes was careless in his work and did not +write short-stories, but tales that are fairly brief. Spain added to +the story a high sense of chivalry and a richness of character that the +Greek romance and the Italian novella did not possess. France followed +this loose composition and lack of beauty in form. Scarron and Le Sage, +the two French fiction writers of this period, contributed little or +nothing to the advancement of story-telling. Cervantes' _The Liberal +Lover_ is as near as this period came to producing a real short-story. + +The story-telling of the seventeenth century was largely shaped by the +popularity of the drama. In the eighteenth century the drama gave place +to the essay, and it is to the sketch and essay that we must go to +trace the evolution of the story during this period. Voltaire in France +had a burning message in every essay, and he paid far greater attention +to the development of the thought of his message than to the story he +was telling. Addison and Steele in the _Spectator_ developed some real +characters of the fiction type and told some good stories, but even +their best, like _Theodosius and Constantia_, fall far short of +developing all the dramatic possibilities, and lack the focusing of +interest found in the nineteenth century stories. Some of Lamb's +_Essays of Elia_, especially the _Dream Children_, introduce a delicate +fancy and an essayist's clearness of thought and statement into the +story. At the close of this century German romanticism began to seep +into English thought and prepare the way for things new in literary +thought and treatment. + +The nineteenth century opened with a decided preference for fiction. +Washington Irving, reverting to the _Spectator_, produced his sketches, +and, following the trend of his time, looked forward to a new form and +wrote _The Spectre Bridegroom_ and _Rip Van Winkle_. It is only by a +precise definition of short-story that Irving is robbed of the honor of +being the founder of the modern short-story. He loved to meander and to +fit his materials to his story scheme in a leisurely manner. He did not +quite see what Hawthorne instinctively followed and Poe consciously +defined and practiced, and he did not realize that terseness of +statement and totality of impression were the chief qualities he needed +to make him the father of a new literary form. Poe and Maupassant have +reduced the form of the short-story to an exact science; Hawthorne and +Harte have done successfully in the field of romanticism what the +Germans, Tieck and Hoffman, did not do so well; Bjornson and Henry +James have analyzed character psychologically in their short-stories; +Kipling has used the short-story as a vehicle for the conveyance of +specific knowledge; Stevenson has gathered most, if not all, of the +literary possibilities adaptable to short-story use, and has +incorporated them in his _Markheim_. + +France with her literary newspapers and artistic tendencies, and the +United States with magazines calling incessantly for good +short-stories, and with every section of its conglomerate life +clamoring to express itself, lead in the production and rank of +short-stories. Maupassant and Stevenson and Hawthorne and Poe are the +great names in the ranks of short-story writers. The list of present +day writers is interminable, and high school students can best acquire +a reasonable appreciation of the great work these writers are doing by +reading regularly some of the better grade literary magazines. + +For a comprehensive view of specimens representing the history and +development of the short-story, students should have access to Brander +Matthews' _The Short Story_, Jessup and Canby's _The Book of the +Short-Story_, and Waite and Taylor's _Modern Masterpieces of Short +Prose Fiction_. + +NOTE: [1] _American Short-Stories_, by Charles Sears Baldwin, New York: +Longmans, Green, & Company, 1904. + + + + +QUALITIES OF THE SHORT-STORY + +It was not until well along in the nineteenth century that any one +attempted to define the short-story. The three quotations given here +are among the best things that have been spoken on this subject. + +"The right novella is never a novel cropped back from the size of a +tree to a bush, or the branch of a tree stuck into the ground and made +to serve for a bush. It is another species, destined by the agencies at +work in the realm of unconsciousness to be brought into being of its +own kind, and not of another,"—W.D. Howells, _North American Review_, +173:429. + +"A true short-story is something other and something more than a mere +story which is short. A true short-story differs from the novel chiefly +in its essential unity of impression. In a far more exact and precise +use of the word, a short-story has unity as a novel cannot have it…. A +short-story deals with a single character, a single event, a single +emotion, or the series of emotions called forth by a single +situation.—Brander Matthews, _The Philosophy of the Short-Story_. + +"The aim of a short-story is to produce a single narrative effect with +the greatest economy of means that is consistent with the utmost +emphasis."—Clayton Hamilton, _Materials and Methods of Fiction_. + +The short-story must always have a compact unity and a direct +simplicity. In such stories as Björnson's _The Father_ and Maupassant's +_The Piece of String_ this simplicity is equal to that of the anecdote, +but in no case can an anecdote possess the dramatic possibilities of +these simple short-stories; for a short-story must always have that +tensity of emotion that comes only in the crucial tests of life. + +The short-story does not demand the consistency in treatment of the +long story, for there are not so many elements to marshal and direct +properly, but the short-story must be original and varied in its +themes, cleverly constructed, and lighted through and through with the +glow of vivid imaginings. A single incident in daily life is caught as +in a snap-shot exposure and held before the reader in such a manner +that the impression of the whole is derived largely from suggestion. +The single incident may be the turning-point in life history, as in +_The Man Who Was_; it may be a mental surrender of habits fixed +seemingly in indelible colors in the soul and a sudden, inflexible +decision to be a man, as in the case of _Markheim;_ or it may be a +gradual realization of the value of spiritual gifts, as Björnson has +concisely presented it in his little story _The Father_. + +The aim of the short-story is always to present a cross-section of life +in such a vivid manner that the importance of the incident becomes +universal. Some short-stories are told with the definite end in view of +telling a story for the sake of exploiting a plot. _The Cask of +Amontillado_ is all action in comparison with _The Masque of the Red +Death. The Gold-Bug_ sets for itself the task of solving a puzzle and +possesses action from first to last. Other stories teach a moral. +_Ethan Brand_ deals with the unpardonable sin, and _The Great Stone +Face_ is our classic story in the field of ideals and their +development. Hawthorne, above all writers, is most interested in +ethical laws and moral development. Still other stories aim to portray +character. Miss Jewett and Mrs. Freeman veraciously picture the +faded-put womanhood in New England; Henry James and Björnson turn the +x-rays of psychology and sociology on their characters; Stevenson +follows with the precision of the tick of a watch the steps in +Markheim's mental evolution. + +The types of the short-story are as varied as life itself. Addison, +Lamb, Irving, Warner, and many others have used the story in their +sketches and essays with wonderful effect. _The Legend of Sleepy +Hollow_ is as impressive as any of Scott's tales. The allegory in _The +Great Stone Face_ loses little or nothing when compared with Bunyan's +_Pilgrim's Progress_. No better type of detective story has been +written than the two short-stories, _The Murders in the Rue Morgue_ and +_The Purloined Letter_. Every emotion is subject to the call of the +short-story. Humor with its expansive free air is not so well adapted +to the short-story as is pathos. There is a sadness in the stories of +Dickens, Garland, Page, Mrs. Freeman, Miss Jewett, Maupassant, Poe, and +many others that runs the whole gamut from pleasing tenderness in _A +Child's Dream of a Star_ to unutterable horror in _The Fall of the +House of Usher_. + +The short-story is stripped of all the incongruities that led Fielding, +Scott, and Dickens far afield. All its parts harmonize in the simplest +manner to give unity and "totality" of impression through strict unity +of form. It is a concentrated piece of life snatched from the ordinary +and uneventful round of living and steeped in fancy until it becomes +the acme of literary art. + + + + +COMPOSITION OF THE SHORT-STORY + +Any student who wishes to express himself correctly and pleasingly, and +desires a keener sense for the appreciation of literary work must +write. The way others have done the thing never appears in a forceful +light until one sets himself at a task of like nature. Just so in the +study of this text. To find and appreciate the better points of the +short-story, students must write stories of their own, patterned in a +small way on the technique of the masterpieces. + +The process of short-story writing follows in a general way the +following program. In the first place the class must have something +interesting and suggestive to write about. Sometimes the class can +suggest a subject; newspapers almost every day give incidents worthy of +story treatment; happenings in the community often give the very best +material for stories; and phases of the literature work may well be +used in the development of students' themes. Change the type of +character and place, reconstruct the plot, or require a different +ending for the story, leaving the plot virtually as it is, and then +assign to the class. Boys and girls should invariably be taught to see +stories in the life about them, in the newspapers and magazines on +their library tables, and in the masterpieces they study in their class +work. + +After the idea that the class wishes to develop has been definitely +determined and the material for this development has been gathered and +grouped about the idea, the class should select a viewpoint and proceed +to write. Sometimes the author should tell the story, sometimes a third +person who may be of secondary importance in the story should be given +the rôle of the story-teller, sometimes the whole may be in dialogue. +The class should choose a fitting method. + +Young writers should be very careful about the beginning of a story. An +action story should start with a striking incident that catches the +reader's attention at once and forecasts subsequent happenings. In +every case this first incident must have in it the essence of the end +of the story and should be perfectly logical to the reader after he has +finished the reading. A story in which the setting is emphasized can +well begin, with a description and contain a number of descriptions and +expositions, distributed with a sense of propriety throughout the +theme. A good method to use in the opening of a character story is that +of conversation. An excellent example of a sharp use of this device is +Mrs. Freeman's _Revolt of Mother_, where the first paragraph is a +single spoken word. + +Every incident included in the story should be tested for its value in +the development of the theme. An incident that does not amplify certain +phases of the story has no right to be included, and great care should +be used in an effort to incorporate just the material necessary for the +proper evolution of the thought. The problem is not so much what can be +secured to be included in the story, but rather, after making a +thorough collection of the material, what of all these points should be +cast out. + +The ending must be a natural outgrowth of the development found in the +body of the composition. Even in a story with a surprise ending, of +which we are tempted to say that we have had no preparation for such a +turn in the story, there must be hints—the subtler the better—that +point unerringly and always toward the end. The end is presupposed in +the beginning and the changing of one means the altering of the other. + +Young writers have trouble in stopping at the right place. They should +learn, as soon as possible, that to drag on after the logical ending +has been reached spoils the best of stories. It is just as bad to stop +before arriving at the true end. In other words there is only one place +for the ending of a story, and in no case can it be shifted without +ruining the idea that has obtained throughout the theme. + +There are certain steps in the development of story-writing that should +be followed if the best results are to be obtained. The first +assignment should require only the writing of straight narrative. _The +Arabian Nights Tales_ and children's stories represent this type of +writing and will give the teacher valuable aid in the presentation of +this work. After the students have produced simple stories resembling +the Sinbad Voyages, they should next add descriptions of persons and +places and explanations of situations to develop clearness and interest +in their original productions. Taking these themes in turn students +should be required to introduce plot incidents that complicate the +simple happenings and divert the straightforward trend of the +narrative. Now that the stories are well developed in their +descriptions, expositions, and plot interests they should be tested for +their emotional effects. Students should go through their themes, and +by making the proper changes give in some cases a humorous and in +others a pathetic or tragic effect. These few suggestions are given to +emphasize the facts that no one conceives a story in all its details in +a moment of inspiration, and that there is a way of proceeding that +passes in logical gradations from the simplest to the most complex +phases of story writing. + +Franklin and Stevenson knew no rules for writing other than to practice +incessantly on some form they wished to imitate. Hard work is the first +lesson that boys and girls must learn in the art of writing, and a +systematic gradation of assignments is what the teacher must provide +for his students. Walter Besant gave the following rules for novel +writers. Some of them may be suggestive to writers of the high school +age, so the list is given in its complete form. "(1) Practice writing +something original every day. (2) Cultivate the habit of observation. +(3) Work regularly at certain hours. (4) Read no rubbish. (5) Aim at +the formation of style. (6) Endeavor to be dramatic. (7) A great +element of dramatic skill is selection. (8) Avoid the sin of writing +about a character. (9) Never attempt to describe any kind of life +except that with which you are familiar. (10) Learn as much as you can +about men and women. (11) For the sake of forming a good natural style, +and acquiring command of language, write poetry." + + + + +SHORT-STORY LIBRARY + +_BOOKS FOR REFERENCE_: + +_American Short-Stories_, Charles Baldwin, Longmans, Green, & Co. + +_A Study of Prose Fiction_, Chapter XII, Bliss Perry, Houghton, Mifflin +Co. + +_Composition Rhetoric_, T.C. Blaisdell, American Book Co. + +_Forms of Prose Literature_, J.H. Gardiner, Charles Scribner's Sons. + +_Materials and Methods of Fiction_, Clayton Hamilton, The Baker and +Taylor Co. + +_Principles of Literary Criticism_, C.T. Winchester, The Macmillan Co. + +_Short-Story Writing_, C.R. Barrett. The Baker and Taylor Co. + +_Specimens of the Short-Story_, G.H. Nettleton, H. Holt & Co. + +_Story-Writing and Journalism_, Sherwin Cody, Funk & Wagnalls Co. + +_Talks on Writing English_, Arlo Bates, Houghton Mifflin Co. + +_The Writing of the Short-Story_, L.W. Smith, D.C. Heath & Co. + +_The Philosophy of the Short-Story_, Brander Matthews, Longmans, Green, +& Co. + +_The World's Greatest Short-Stories_, Sherwin Cody, A.C. McClurg & Co. + +_The Short-Story_, Henry Canby, Henry Holt & Co. + +_The Short-Story_, Evelyn May Albright, The Macmillan Co. + +_The Book of the Short-Story_, Jessup and Canby, D. Appleton & Co. + +_Modern Masterpieces of Short Prose Fiction_, Waite and Taylor, D. +Appleton & Co. + +_The Short-Story_, Brander Matthews, American Book Co. + +_Writing the Short-Story_, Esenwein, Hinds, Noble & Eldredge. + +_A Study of the Short-Story in English_, Henry Seidel Canby, Henry Holt +& Co. + + + + +COLLECTIONS OF SHORT-STORIES: + +_American Short-Stories_, Charles S. Baldwin, Longmans, Green, & Co. + +_Great Short-Stories_, 3 vols., William Patten, P.F. Collier & Son. + +_Little French Masterpieces_, 6 vols. Alexander Jessup, G.P. Putnam's +Sons. + +_Short-Story Classics_ (American), 5 vols., William Patten, P.F. +Collier & Son. + +_Short-Story Classics_ (Foreign), 5 vols., William Patten, P.F. Collier +& Son. + +_Stories by American Authors_, 10 vols., Charles Scribner's Sons. + +_Stories by English Authors_, 10 vols., Charles Scribner's Sons. + +_Stories by Foreign Authors_, 10 vols., Charles Scribner's Sons. + +_Stories New and Old_ (American and English), Hamilton W. Mabie, The +Macmillan Co. + +_World's Greatest Short-Stories_, Sherwin Cody, A.C. McClurg & Co. + +_The American Short-Story_, Elias Lieberman. + + + + +THE FATHER[1] + + +_By Björnstjerne Björnson (1838-1910)_ + + +The man whose story is here to be told was the wealthiest and most +influential person in his parish; his name was Thord Överaas. He +appeared in the priest's study one day, tall and earnest. + +"I have gotten a son," said he, "and I wish to present him for +baptism." + +"What shall his name be?" + +"Finn,—after my father." + +"And the sponsors?" + +They were mentioned, and proved to be the best men and women of Thord's +relations in the parish. + +"Is there anything else?" inquired the priest, and looked up. The +peasant hesitated a little. + +"I should like very much to have him baptized by himself," said he, +finally. + +"That is to say on a week-day?" + +"Next Saturday, at twelve o'clock noon." + +"Is there anything else?" inquired the priest, + +"There is nothing else;" and the peasant twirled his cap, as though he +were about to go. + +Then the priest rose. "There is yet this, however." said he, and +walking toward Thord, he took him by the hand and looked gravely into +his eyes: "God grant that the child may become a blessing to you!" + +One day sixteen years later, Thord stood once more in the priest's +study. + +"Really, you carry your age astonishingly well, Thord," said the +priest; for he saw no change whatever in the man. + +"That is because I have no troubles," replied Thord. To this the priest +said nothing, but after a while he asked: "What is your pleasure this +evening?" + +"I have come this evening about that son of mine who is to be confirmed +to-morrow." + +"He is a bright boy." + +"I did not wish to pay the priest until I heard what number the boy +would have when he takes his place in the church to-morrow." + +"He will stand number one." + +"So I have heard; and here are ten dollars for the priest." + +"Is there anything else I can do for you?" inquired the priest, fixing +his eyes on Thord. + +"There is nothing else." + +Thord went out. + +Eight years more rolled by, and then one day a noise was heard outside +of the priest's study, for many men were approaching, and at their head +was Thord, who entered first. + +The priest looked up and recognized him. + +"You come well attended this evening, Thord," said he. + +"I am here to request that the banns may be published for my son: he is +about to marry Karen Storliden, daughter of Gudmund, who stands here +beside me." + +"Why, that is the richest girl in the parish." + +"So they say," replied the peasant, stroking back his hair with one +hand. + +The priest sat a while as if in deep thought, then entered the names in +his book, without making any comments, and the men wrote their +signatures underneath. Thord laid three dollars on the table. + +"One is all I am to have," said the priest. + +"I know that very well; but he is my only child; I want to do it +handsomely." + +The priest took the money. + +"This is now the third time, Thord, that you have come here on your +son's account." + +"But now I am through with him," said Thord, and folding up his +pocket-book he said farewell and walked away. + +The men slowly followed him. + +A fortnight later, the father and son were rowing across the lake, one +calm, still day, to Storliden to make arrangements for the wedding. + +"This thwart[2] is not secure," said the son, and stood up to +straighten the seat on which he was sitting. + +At the same moment the board he was standing on slipped from under him; +he threw out his arms, uttered a shriek, and fell overboard. + +"Take hold of the oar!" shouted the father, springing to his feet, and +holding out the oar. + +But when the son had made a couple of efforts he grew stiff. + +"Wait a moment!" cried the father, and began to row toward his son. + +Then the son rolled over on his back, gave his father one long look, +and sank. + +Thord could scarcely believe it; he held the boat still, and stared at +the spot where his son had gone down, as though he must surely come to +the surface again. There rose some bubbles, then some more, and finally +one large one that burst; and the lake lay there as smooth and bright +as a mirror again. + +For three days and three nights people saw the father rowing round and +round the spot, without taking either food or sleep; he was dragging +the lake for the body of his son. And toward morning of the third day +he found it, and carried it in his arms up over the hills to his +gard[3]. + +It might have been about a year from that day, when the priest, late +one autumn evening, heard some one in the passage outside of the door, +carefully trying to find the latch. The priest opened the door, and in +walked a tall, thin man, with bowed form and white hair. The priest +looked long at him before he recognized him. It was Thord. + +"Are you out walking so late?" said the priest, and stood still in +front of him. + +"Ah, yes! it is late," said Thord, and took a seat. + +The priest sat down also, as though waiting. A long, long silence +followed. At last Thord said,— + +"I have something with me that I should like to give to the poor; I +want it to be invested as a legacy in my son's name." + +He rose, laid some money on the table, and sat down again. The priest +counted it. + +"It is a great deal of money," said he. + +"It is half the price of my gard. I sold it to-day." + +The priest sat long in silence. At last he asked, but gently,— + +"What do you propose to do now, Thord?" + +"Something better." + +They sat there for a while, Thord with downcast eyes, the priest with +his eyes fixed on Thord. Presently the priest said, slowly and softly,— + +"I think your son has at last brought you a true blessing." + +"Yes, I think so myself," said Thord, looking up, while two big tears +coursed slowly down his cheeks. + +NOTES + +[1] This story was written in 1860. Translated from the Norwegian by +Professor Rasmus B. Anderson. It is printed by permission of and +special arrangement with _Houghton Mifflin Co._, publishers. + +[2] 3:28 thwart. A seat, across a boat, on which the oarsman, sits. + +[3] 4:21 gard. A Norwegian farm. + +BIOGRAPHY + +Björnstjerne Björnson, Norse poet, novelist, dramatist, orator, and +political leader, was born December 8, 1832, and died in Paris, April +26, 1910. From his strenuous father, a Lutheran priest who preached +with tongue and fist, he inherited the physique of a Norse god. He +possessed the mind of a poet and the arm of a warrior. At the age of +twelve he was sent to the Molde grammar school, where he proved himself +a very dull student. In 1852 he entered the university in Christiana. +Here he neglected his studies to write poetry and journalistic +articles. + +In politics Björnson was a tremendous force. Dr. Brandes has said; "To +speak the name of Björnson is like hoisting the colors of Norway." He +was honored as a king in his native land. He won this recognition by no +party affiliation, but by his natural gifts as a poet. His magnetic +eloquence, great message, and sterling character compelled his +countrymen to follow and honor him. He says of his success in this +field: "The secret with me is that in success as in failure, in the +consciousness of my doing as in my habits, I am myself. There are a +great many who dare not, or lack the ability, to be themselves." For +his views on political issues the following references may well be +used: _Independent_. January 31, 1901, pp. 253-257; _Current +Literature_, November, 1906, p. 581; and _Independent_, July 13, 1905, +pp. 92-94. + +Björnson and Ibsen, the two foremost men of Norway, were very closely +associated throughout life. They were schoolmates, and both were +interested in writing and producing plays. Ibsen's son, Dr. Sigurd +Ibsen, married Björnson's daughter, Bergilot. These two great writers +were direct contrasts in nearly everything: Björnson lived among his +people, Ibsen was reserved; Björnson played the rôle of an optimistic +prophet, Ibsen, that of a pessimistic judge; the former was always a +conciliatory spirit, the latter a revolutionist; and Björnson proved +himself a patriotic Norwegian, Ibsen, a man of the entire world. + +Lack of space forbids the inclusion of a list of Björnson's writing's. +High school teachers will find suitable selections in the list of +collateral readings that follows. Those who wish a complete +bibliography of his works will find it in _Bookman_, Volume II, p. 65. +Translations of his works by Rasmus B. Anderson, Houghton Mifflin Co., +and Edmund Gosse, the Macmillan Co., will furnish students extensive +and standard readings of this master story-teller. + +CRITICISMS + +Björnson, in his masterly character delineations, seldom produces +portraits. He gives the reader suggestive glimpses often enough and of +the right quality and arrangement to produce a full and vigorous +conception of his characters. His female parts are especially well +done. His characters present themselves to the reader by unique +thinking and choice expressions. Students should analyze _The Father_ +for this phase of character building. Note also the simplicity of the +words, sentences, paragraphs, and complete story arrangement, the +author's originality of story conception and expression, his short, +passionate, panting sentences, the poetic atmosphere that sweetens and +enriches his virile writing, and the correct, religious pictures he +paints of his beloved northland. + +After having read a number of selections from Björnson, students will +see that he has a wonderful breadth of treatment for every imaginable +subject. He is so universal in his choice of subjects that Lemaître in +his _Impressions of the Theatre_ half-humorously and half-ironically +puts these words in Björnson's mouth, "I am king in the spiritual +kingdom," and "there are two men in Europe who have genius, I and +Ibsen, granting that Ibsen has it." + +GENERAL REFERENCES + +_Adventures in Criticism_, A.T.Q. Couch. + +_Essays on Modern Novelists_, William Lyon Phelps. + +"Björnsoniana," _Dial_, January 16, 1903, pp. 37-38. + +"Prophet-Poet of Norway," _Cosmopolitan_, April, 1903, pp. 621-631. + +"Three Score and Ten," _Dial_, December, 1902, pp. 383-385. + +COLLATERAL READINGS + +_Lectures_, Volume I, John L. Stoddard. + +_The Making of an American_, Chapters 1, 7, and Jacob Riis. + +_Myths of Northern Lands_. Guerber. + +_Synnove Solbakken_, Björnson. + +_A Happy Boy_, Björnson. + +_The Fisher Maiden_, Björnson. + +_The Bridal March_, Björnson. + +_Magnhild_, Björnson. + +_A Dangerous Wooing_, Björnson. + +_The Eagle's Nest_, Björnson. + +_The Bear Hunter_, Björnson. + +_Master and Man_, Leo Tolstoi. + +_The Doll's House_, Henrik Ibsen. + +_The Minister's Black Veil_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_The Ambitious Guest_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_The Beeman of Orn_, Frank R. Stockton. + +_A Branch Road_, Hamlin Garland. + +_Mateo Falcone_, Prosper Mérimée. + +_The Death of the Dauphin_, Alphonse Dadoed. + +_The Birds' Christmas Carol_, Kate Douglas Wiggin. + +_Tennessee's Partner_, Bret Harte. + + + + +THE GRIFFIN AND THE MINOR CANAAN[1] + + +_By Frank R. Stockton (1834-1902)_ + + +Over the great door of an old, old church which stood in a quiet town +of a far-away land there was carved in stone the figure of a large +griffin. The old-time sculptor had done his work with great care, but +the image he had made was not a pleasant one to look at. It had a large +head, with enormous open mouth and savage teeth; from its back arose +great wings, armed with sharp hooks and prongs; it had stout legs in +front, with projecting claws; but there were no legs behind,—the body +running out into a long and powerful tail, finished off at the end with +a barbed point. This tail was coiled up under him, the end sticking up +just back of his wings. + +The sculptor, or the people who had ordered this stone figure, had +evidently been very much pleased with it, for little copies of it, also +in stone, had been placed here and there along the sides of the church, +not very far from the ground, so that people could easily look at them, +and ponder on their curious forms. There were a great many other +sculptures on the outside of this church,—saints, martyrs, grotesque +heads of men, beasts, and birds, as well as those of other creatures +which cannot be named, because nobody knows exactly what they were; but +none were so curious and interesting as the great griffin over the +door, and the little griffins on the sides of the church. + +A long, long distance from the town, in the midst of dreadful wilds +scarcely known to man, there dwelt the Griffin whose image had been put +up over the churchgoer. In some way or other, the old-time sculptor had +seen him, and afterward, to the best of his memory, had copied his +figure in stone. The Griffin had never known this, until, hundreds of +years afterward, he heard from a bird, from a wild animal, or in some +manner which it is not now easy to find out, that there was a likeness +of him on the old church in the distant town. Now this Griffin had no +idea how he looked. He had never seen a mirror, and the streams where +he lived were so turbulent and violent that a quiet piece of water, +which would reflect the image of anything looking into it, could not be +found. Being, as far as could be ascertained, the very last of his +race, he had never seen another griffin. Therefore it was, that, when +he heard of this stone image of himself, he became very anxious to know +what he looked like, and at last he determined to go to the old church, +and see for himself what manner of being he was. So he started off from +the dreadful wilds, and flew on and on until he came to the countries +inhabited by men, where his appearance in the air created great +consternation; but he alighted nowhere, keeping up a steady flight +until he reached the suburbs of the town which had his image on its +church. Here, late in the afternoon, he alighted in a green meadow by +the side of a brook, and stretched himself on the grass to rest. His +great wings were tired, for he had not made such a long flight in a +century, or more. + +The news of his coming spread quickly over the town, and the people, +frightened nearly out of their wits by the arrival of so extraordinary +a visitor, fled into their houses, and shut themselves up. The Griffin +called loudly for some one to come to him, but the more he called, the +more afraid the people were to show themselves. At length he saw two +laborers hurrying to their homes through the fields, and in a terrible +voice he commanded them to stop. Not daring to disobey, the men stood, +trembling. + +"What is the matter with you all?" cried the Griffin. "Is there not a +man in your town who is brave enough to speak to me?" + +"I think," said one of the laborers, his voice shaking so that his +words could hardly be understood, "that—perhaps—the Minor Canon—would +come." + +"Go, call him, then!" said the Griffin; "I want to see him." + +The Minor Canon, who filled a subordinate position in the church, had +just finished the afternoon services, and was coming out of a side +door, with three aged women who had formed the week-day congregation. +He was a young man of a kind disposition, and very anxious to do good +to the people of the town. Apart from his duties in the church, where +he conducted services every week-day, he visited the sick and the poor, +counseled and assisted persons who were in trouble, and taught a school +composed entirely of the bad children in the town with whom nobody else +would have anything to do. Whenever the people wanted something +difficult done for them, they always went to the Minor Canon. Thus it +was that the laborer thought of the young priest when he found that +some one must come and speak to the Griffin. + +The Minor Canon had not heard of the strange event, which was known to +the whole town except himself and the three old women, and when he was +informed of it, and was told that the Griffin had asked to see him, he +was greatly amazed, and frightened. + +"Me!" he exclaimed. "He has never heard of me! What should he want with +_me?_" + +"Oh! you must go instantly!" cried the two men. + +"He is very angry now because he has been kept waiting so long; and +nobody knows what may happen if you don't hurry to him." + +The poor Minor Canon would rather have had his hand cut off than go out +to meet an angry griffin; but he felt that it was his duty to go, or it +would be a woeful thing if injury should come to the people of the town +because he was not brave enough to obey the summons of the Griffin. + +So, pale and frightened, he started off. + +"Well," said the Griffin, as soon as the young man came near, "I am +glad to see that there is some one who has the courage to come to me." + +The Minor Canon did not feel very courageous, but he bowed his head. + +"Is this the town," said the Griffin, "where there is a church with a +likeness of myself over one of the doors?" + +The Minor Canon looked at the frightful creature before him and saw +that it was, without doubt, exactly like the stone image on the church. +"Yes," he said, "you are right." + +"Well, then," said the Griffin, "will you take me to it? I wish very +much to see it." + +The Minor Canon instantly thought that if the Griffin entered the town +without the people knowing what he came for, some of them would +probably be frightened to death, and so he sought to gain time to +prepare their minds. + +"It is growing dark, now," he said, very much afraid, as he spoke, that +his words might enrage the Griffin, "and objects on the front of the +church cannot be seen clearly. It will be better to wait until morning, +if you wish to get a good view of the stone image of yourself." + +"That will suit me very well," said the Griffin. "I see you are a man +of good sense. I am tired, and I will take a nap here on this soft +grass, while I cool my tail in the little stream that runs near me. The +end of my tail gets red-hot when I am angry or excited, and it is quite +warm now. So you may go, but be sure and come early to-morrow morning, +and show me the way to the church." + +The Minor Canon was glad enough to take his leave, and hurried into the +town. In front of the church he found a great many people assembled to +hear his report of his interview with the Griffin. When they found that +he had not come to spread ruin and devastation, but simply to see his +stony likeness on the church, they showed neither relief nor +gratification, but began to upbraid the Minor Canon for consenting to +conduct the creature into the town. + +"What could I do?" cried the young man, "If I should not bring him he +would come himself and, perhaps, end by setting fire to the town with +his red-hot tail." + +Still the people were not satisfied, and a great many plans were +proposed to prevent the Griffin from coming into the town. Some elderly +persons urged that the young men should go out and kill him; but the +young men scoffed at such a ridiculous idea. Then some one said that it +would be a good thing to destroy the stone image so that the Griffin +would have no excuse for entering the town; and this proposal was +received with such favor that many of the people ran for hammers, +chisels, and crowbars, with which to tear down and break up the stone +griffin. But the Minor Canon resisted this plan with all the strength +of his mind and body. He assured the people that this action would +enrage the Griffin beyond measure, for it would be impossible to +conceal from him that his image had been destroyed during the night. +But the people were so determined to break up the stone griffin that +the Minor Canon saw that there was nothing for him to do but to stay +there and protect it. All night he walked up and down in front of the +church-door, keeping away the men who brought ladders, by which they +might mount to the great stone griffin, and knock it to pieces with +their hammers and crowbars. After many hours the people were obliged to +give up their attempts, and went home to sleep; but the Minor Canon +remained at his post till early morning, and then he hurried away to +the field where he had left the Griffin. + +The monster had just awakened, and rising to his fore-legs and shaking +himself, he said that he was ready to go into the town. The Minor +Canon, therefore, walked back, the Griffin flying slowly through the +air, at a short distance above the head of his guide. Not a person was +to be seen in the streets, and they proceeded directly to the front of +the church, where the Minor Canon pointed out the stone griffin. + +The real Griffin settled down in the little square before the church +and gazed earnestly at his sculptured likeness. For a long time he +looked at it. First he put his head on one side, and then he put it on +the other; then he shut his right eye and gazed with his left, after +which he shut his left eye and gazed with his right. Then he moved a +little to one side and looked at the image, then he moved the other +way. After a while he said to the Minor Canon, who had been standing by +all this time: + +"It is, it must be, an excellent likeness! That breadth between the +eyes, that expansive forehead, those massive jaws! I feel that it must +resemble me. If there is any fault to find with it, it is that the neck +seems a little stiff. But that is nothing. It is an admirable +likeness,—admirable!" + +The Griffin sat looking at his image all the morning and all the +afternoon. The Minor Canon had been afraid to go away and leave him, +and had hoped all through the day that he would soon be satisfied with +his inspection and fly away home. But by evening the poor young man was +utterly exhausted, and felt that he must eat and sleep. He frankly +admitted this fact to the Griffin, and asked him if he would not like +something to eat. He said this because he felt obliged in politeness to +do so, but as soon as he had spoken the words, he was seized with dread +lest the monster should demand half a dozen babies, or some tempting +repast of that kind. + +"Oh, no," said the Griffin, "I never eat between the equinoxes. At the +vernal and at the autumnal equinox I take a good meal, and that lasts +me for half a year. I am extremely regular in my habits, and do not +think it healthful to eat at odd times. But if you need food, go and +get it, and I will return to the soft grass where I slept last night +and take another nap." + +The next day the Griffin came again to the little square before the +church, and remained there until evening, steadfastly regarding the +stone griffin over the door. The Minor Canon came once or twice to look +at him, and the Griffin seemed very glad to see him; but the young +clergyman could not stay as he had done before, for he had many duties +to perform. Nobody went to the church, but the people came to the Minor +Canon's house, and anxiously asked him how long the Griffin was going +to stay. + +"I do not know," he answered, "but I think he will soon be satisfied +with regarding his stone likeness, and then he will go away." + +But the Griffin did not go away. Morning after morning he came to the +church, but after a time he did not stay there all day. He seemed to +have taken a great fancy to the Minor Canon, and followed him about as +he pursued his various avocations. He would wait for him at the side +door of the church, for the Minor Canon held services every day, +morning and evening, though nobody came now. "If any one should come," +he said to himself, "I must be found at my post." When the young man +came out, the Griffin would accompany him in his visits to the sick and +the poor, and would often look into the windows of the schoolhouse +where the Minor Canon was teaching his unruly scholars. All the other +schools were closed, but the parents of the Minor Canon's scholars +forced them to go to school, because they were so bad they could not +endure them all day at home,—griffin or no griffin. But it must be said +they generally behaved very well when that great monster sat up on his +tail and looked in at the schoolroom window. + +When it was perceived that the Griffin showed no signs of going away, +all the people who were able to do so left the town. The canons and the +higher officers of the church had fled away during the first day of the +Griffin's visit, leaving behind only the Minor Canon and some of the +men who opened the doors and swept the church. All the citizens who +could afford it shut up their houses and travelled to distant parts, +and only the working people and the poor were left behind. After some +days these ventured to go about and attend to their business, for if +they did not work they would starve. They were getting a little used to +seeing the Griffin, and having been told that he did not eat between +equinoxes, they did not feel so much afraid of him as before. Day by +day the Griffin became more and more attached to the Minor Canon. He +kept near him a great part of the time, and often spent the night in +front of the little house where the young clergyman lived alone. This +strange companionship was often burdensome to the Minor Canon; but, on +the other hand, he could not deny that he derived a great deal of +benefit and instruction from it. The Griffin had lived for hundreds of +years, and had seen much; and he told the Minor Canon many wonderful +things. + +"It is like reading an old book," said the young clergyman to himself; +"but how many books I would have had to read before I would have found +out what the Griffin has told me about the earth, the air, the water, +about minerals, and metals, and growing things, and all the wonders of +the world!" + +Thus the summer went on, and drew toward its close. And now the people +of the town began to be very much troubled again. + +"It will not be long," they said, "before the autumnal equinox is here, +and then that monster will want to eat. He will be dreadfully hungry, +for he has taken so much exercise since his last meal. He will devour +our children. Without doubt, he will eat them all. What is to be done?" + +To this question no one could give an answer, but all agreed that the +Griffin must not be allowed to remain until the approaching equinox. +After talking over the matter a great deal, a crowd of the people went +to the Minor Canon, at a time when the Griffin was not with him. + +"It is all your fault," they said, "that that monster is among us. You +brought him here, and you ought to see that he goes away. It is only on +your account that he stays here at all, for, although he visits his +image every day, he is with you the greater part of the time. If you +were not here, he would not stay. It is your duty to go away and then +he will follow you, and we shall be free from the dreadful danger which +hangs over us." + +"Go away!" cried the Minor Canon, greatly grieved at being spoken to in +such a way. "Where shall I go? If I go to some other town, shall I not +take this trouble there? Have I a right to do that?" + +"No," said the people, "you must not go to any other town. There is no +town far enough away. You must go to the dreadful wilds where the +Griffin lives; and then he will follow you and stay there." + +They did not say whether or not they expected the Minor Canon to stay +there also, and he did not ask them any thing about it. He bowed his +head, and went into his house, to think. The more he thought, the more +clear it became to his mind that it was his duty to go away, and thus +free the town from the presence of the Griffin. + +That evening he packed a leathern bag full of bread and meat, and early +the next morning he set out on his journey to the dreadful wilds. It +was a long, weary, and doleful journey, especially after he had gone +beyond the habitations of men, but the Minor Canon kept on bravely, and +never faltered. The way was longer than he had expected, and his +provisions soon grew so scanty that he was obliged to eat but a little +every day, but he kept up his courage, and pressed on, and, after many +days of toilsome travel, he reached the dreadful wilds. + +When the Griffin found that the Minor Canon had left the town he seemed +sorry, but showed no disposition to go and look for him. After a few +days had passed, he became much annoyed, and asked some of the people +where the Minor Canon had gone. But, although the citizens had been +anxious that the young clergyman should go to the dreadful wilds, +thinking that the Griffin would immediately follow him, they were now +afraid to mention the Minor Canon's destination, for the monster seemed +angry already, and, if he should suspect their trick, he would +doubtless become very much enraged. So every one said he did not know, +and the Griffin wandered about disconsolate. One morning he looked into +the Minor Canon's schoolhouse, which was always empty now, and thought +that it was a shame that every thing should suffer on account of the +young man's absence. + +"It does not matter so much about the church," he said, "for nobody +went there; but it is a pity about the school. I think I will teach it +myself until he returns." + +It was the hour for opening the school, and the Griffin went inside and +pulled the rope which rang the schoolbell. Some of the children who +heard the bell ran in to see what was the matter, supposing it to be a +joke of one of their companions; but when they saw the Griffin they +stood astonished, and scared. + +"Go tell the other scholars," said the monster, "that school is about +to open, and that if they are not all here in ten minutes, I shall come +after them." In seven minutes every scholar was in place. + +Never was seen such an orderly school. Not a boy or girl moved, or +uttered a whisper. The Griffin climbed into the master's seat, his wide +wings spread on each side of him, because he could not lean back in his +chair while they stuck out behind, and his great tail coiled around, in +front of the desk, the barbed end sticking up, ready to tap any boy or +girl who might misbehave. The Griffin now addressed the scholars, +telling them that he intended to teach them while their master was +away. In speaking he endeavored to imitate, as far as possible, the +mild and gentle tones of the Minor Canon, but it must be admitted that +in this he was not very successful. He had paid a good deal of +attention to the studies of the school, and he determined not to +attempt to teach them anything new, but to review them in what they had +been studying; so he called up the various classes, and questioned them +upon their previous lessons. The children racked their brains to +remember what they had learned. They were so afraid of the Griffin's +displeasure that they recited as they had never recited before. One of +the boys far down in his class answered so well that the Griffin was +astonished. + +"I should think you would be at the head," said he. "I am sure you have +never been in the habit of reciting so well. Why is this?" + +"Because I did not choose to take the trouble," said the boy, trembling +in his boots. He felt obliged to speak the truth, for all the children +thought that the great eyes of the Griffin could see right through +them, and that he would know when they told a falsehood. + +"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," said the Griffin. "Go down to +the very tail of the class, and if you are not at the head in two days, +I shall know the reason why." + +The next afternoon the boy was number one. + +It was astonishing how much these children now learned of what they had +been studying. It was as if they had been educated over again. The +Griffin used no severity toward them, but there was a look about him +which made them unwilling to go to bed until they were sure they knew +their lessons for the next day. + +The Griffin now thought that he ought to visit the sick and the poor; +and he began to go about the town for this purpose. The effect upon the +sick was miraculous. All, except those who were very ill indeed, jumped +from their beds when they heard he was coming, and declared themselves +quite well. To those who could not get up, he gave herbs and roots, +which none of them had ever before thought of as medicines, but which +the Griffin had seen used in various parts of the world; and most of +them recovered. But, for all that, they afterward said that no matter +what happened to them, they hoped that they should never again have +such a doctor coming to their bedsides, feeling their pulses and +looking at their tongues. + +As for the poor, they seemed to have utterly disappeared. All those who +had depended upon charity for their daily bread were now at work in +some way or other; many of them offering to do odd jobs for their +neighbors just for the sake of their meals,—a thing which before had +been seldom heard of in the town. The Griffin could find no one who +needed his assistance. + +The summer had now passed, and the autumnal equinox was rapidly +approaching. The citizens were in a state of great alarm and anxiety. +The Griffin showed no signs of going away, but seemed to have settled +himself permanently among them. In a short time, the day for his +semi-annual meal would arrive, and then what would happen? The monster +would certainly be very hungry, and would devour all their children. + +Now they greatly regretted and lamented that they had sent away the +Minor Canon; he was the only one on whom they could have depended in +this trouble, for he could talk freely with the Griffin, and so find +out what could be done. But it would not do to be inactive. Some step +must be taken immediately. A meeting of the citizens was called, and +two old men were appointed to go and talk to the Griffin. They were +instructed to offer to prepare a splendid dinner for him on equinox +day,—one which would entirely satisfy his hunger. They would offer him +the fattest mutton, the most tender beef, fish, and game of various +sorts, and any thing of the kind that he might fancy. If none of these +suited, they were to mention that there was an orphan asylum in the +next town. + +"Any thing would be better," said the citizens, "than to have our dear +children devoured." + +The old men went to the Griffin, but their propositions were not +received with favor. + +"From what I have seen of the people of this town," said the monster, +"I do not think I could relish any thing which was prepared by them. +They appear to be all cowards, and, therefore, mean and selfish. As for +eating one of them, old or young, I could not think of it for a moment. +In fact, there was only one creature in the whole place for whom I +could have had any appetite, and that is the Minor Canon, who has gone +away. He was brave, and good, and honest, and I think I should have +relished him." + +"Ah!" said one of the old men very politely, "in that case I wish we +had not sent him to the dreadful wilds!" + +"What!" cried the Griffin. "What do you mean? Explain instantly what +you are talking about!" + +The old man, terribly frightened at what he had said, was obliged to +tell how the Minor Canon had been sent away by the people, in the hope +that the Griffin might be induced to follow him. + +When the monster heard this, he became furiously angry. He dashed away +from the old men and, spreading his wings, flew backward and forward +over the town. He was so much excited that his tail became red-hot, and +glowed like a meteor against the evening sky. When at last he settled +down in the little field where he usually rested, and thrust his tail +into the brook, the steam arose like a cloud, and the water of the +stream ran hot through the town. The citizens were greatly frightened, +and bitterly blamed the old man for telling about the Minor Canon. + +"It is plain," they said, "that the Griffin intended at last to go and +look for him, and we should have been saved. Now who can tell what +misery you have brought upon us." + +The Griffin did not remain long in the little field. As soon as his +tail was cool he flew to the town-hall and rang the bell. The citizens +knew that they were expected to come there, and although they were +afraid to go, they were still more afraid to stay away; and they +crowded into the hall. The Griffin was on the platform at one end, +flapping his wings and walking up and down, and the end of his tail was +still so warm that it slightly scorched the boards as he dragged it +after him. + +When everybody who was able to come was there the Griffin stood still +and addressed the meeting. + +"I have had a contemptible opinion of you," he said, "ever since I +discovered what cowards you are, but I had no idea that you were so +ungrateful, selfish, and cruel as I now find you to be. Here was your +Minor Canon, who labored day and night for your good, and thought of +nothing else but how he might benefit you and make you happy; and as +soon as you imagine yourselves threatened with a danger,—for well I +know you are dreadfully afraid of me,—you send him off, caring not +whether he returns or perishes, hoping thereby to save yourselves. Now, +I had conceived a great liking for that young man, and had intended, in +a day or two, to go and look him up. But I have changed my mind about +him. I shall go and find him, but I shall send him back here to live +among you, and I intend that he shall enjoy the reward of his labor and +his sacrifices. Go, some of you, to the officers of the church, who so +cowardly ran away when I first came here, and tell them never to return +to this town under penalty of death. And if, when your Minor Canon +comes back to you, you do not bow yourselves before him, put him in the +highest place among you, and serve and honor him all his life, beware +of my terrible vengeance! There were only two good things in this town: +the Minor Canon and the stone image of myself over your church-door. +One of these you have sent away, and the other I shall carry away +myself." + +With these words he dismissed the meeting, and it was time, for the end +of his tail had become so hot that there was danger of its setting fire +to the building. + +The next morning, the Griffin came to the church, and tearing the stone +image of himself from its fastenings over the great door, he grasped it +with his powerful fore-legs and flew up into the air. Then, after +hovering over the town for a moment, he gave his tail an angry shake +and took up his flight to the dreadful wilds. When he reached this +desolate region, he set the stone Griffin upon a ledge of a rock which +rose in front of the dismal cave he called his home. There the image +occupied a position somewhat similar to that it had had over the +church-door; and the Griffin, panting with the exertion of carrying +such an enormous load to so great a distance, lay down upon the ground, +and regarded it with much satisfaction. When he felt somewhat rested he +went to look for the Minor Canon. He found the young man, weak and +half-starved, lying under the shadow of a rock. After picking him up +and carrying him to his cave, the Griffin flew away to a distant marsh, +where he procured some roots and herbs which he well knew were +strengthening and beneficial to man, though he had never tasted them +himself. After eating these the Minor Canon was greatly revived, and +sat up and listened while the Griffin told him what had happened in the +town. + +"Do you know," said the monster, when he had finished, "that I have +had, and still have, a great liking for you?" + +"I am very glad to hear it," said the Minor Canon, with his usual +politeness. + +"I am not at all sure that you would be," said the Griffin, "if you +thoroughly understood the state of the case, but we will not consider +that now. If some things were different, other things would be +otherwise. I have been so enraged by discovering the manner in which +you have been treated that I have determined that you shall at last +enjoy the rewards and honors to which you are entitled. Lie down and +have a good sleep, and then I will take you back to the town." + +As he heard these words, a look of trouble came over the young man's +face. + +"You need not give yourself any anxiety," said the Griffin, "about my +return to the town. I shall not remain there. Now that I have that +admirable likeness of myself in front of my cave, where I can sit at my +leisure, and gaze upon its noble features and magnificent proportions, +I have no wish to see that abode of cowardly and selfish people." + +The Minor Canon, relieved from his fears, lay back, and dropped into a +doze; and when he was sound asleep the Griffin took him up, and carried +him back to the town. He arrived just before daybreak, and putting the +young man gently on the grass in the little field where he himself used +to rest, the monster, without having been seen by any of the people, +flew back to his home. + +When the Minor Canon made his appearance in the morning among the +citizens, the enthusiasm and cordiality with which he was received were +truly wonderful. He was taken to a house which had been occupied by one +of the vanished high officers of the place, and every one was anxious +to do all that could be done for his health and comfort. The people +crowded into the church when he held services, so that the three old +women who used to be his week-day congregation could not get to the +best seats, which they had always been in the habit of taking; and the +parents of the bad children determined to reform them at home, in order +that he might be spared the trouble of keeping up his former school. +The Minor Canon was appointed to the highest office of the old church, +and before he died, he became a bishop. + +During the first years after his return from the dreadful wilds, the +people of the town looked up to him as a man to whom they were bound to +do honor and reverence; but they often, also, looked up to the sky to +see if there were any signs of the Griffin coming back. However, in the +course of time, they learned to honor and reverence their former Minor +Canon without the fear of being punished if they did not do so. + +But they need never have been afraid of the Griffin. The autumnal +equinox day came round, and the monster ate nothing. If he could not +have the Minor Canon, he did not care for any thing. So, lying down, +with his eyes fixed upon the great stone griffin, he gradually +declined, and died. It was a good thing for some people of the town +that they did not know this. + +If you should ever visit the old town, you would still see the little +griffins on the sides of the church; but the great stone griffin that +was over the door is gone. + +NOTE: [1] Written in 1887. This story is used by permission of and +special arrangement with _Charles Scribner's Sons_, publishers. + +BIOGRAPHY + +Frank Richard Stockton, one of America's foremost story-tellers and +humorists, was born in Philadelphia in 1834. His father was a +Presbyterian minister who devoutly wished that his son might study +medicine. This wish was shattered early, for the son showed symptoms of +being a writer while yet in the Central High School of Philadelphia. In +competition with many of his schoolmates for a prize offered for the +best story, young Stockton won easily. + +After finishing his high school course, he adopted the profession of +wood-engraver. Although he earned his living for several years by +carving wood, he never lost his desire to write, and practised, at +every spare moment, his favorite avocation. It was this careful and +patient training during his apprenticeship that finally made him the +expert story-teller that he is. It is very interesting to any one who +cares for the acquirement of an excellent style to note how all the +authors contained in this text have had to work with almost a +superhuman force to reach the heights of successful short-story +writing. + +His first important publication, _Kate_, appeared in the _Southern +Literary Messenger_ in 1859. He then joined the staff of the +_Philadelphia Morning Post_, where he did regular newspaper work and +contributed to the _Riverside Magazine_ and _Hearth and Home_. In 1872 +his _Stephen Skarridge's Christmas_ appeared in _Scribner's Monthly_. +Dr. J.G. Holland, editor of _Scribner's_, was so impressed with the +story that he made Mr. Stockton an assistant editor and persuaded him +to move to New York. In 1873 he joined the staff of the _St. Nicholas +Magazine_. His publication of the _Rudder Grange_ series in +_Scribner's_ _Monthly_ in 1878 made him famous. In 1882 he resigned all +editorial work and spent his entire time in literary composition. + +Mr. Stockton possessed a frail body and very little physical endurance. +In spite of this physical handicap he was very vivacious and gay. He +was a genial and companionable man, loved by all who knew him. He was +very modest, even to the point of shyness, exceptionally sincere, and +quaintly humorous. He established homes in New Jersey and West +Virginia, where he spent the greater part of his time from 1882 until +his death in 1902. + +BIOGRAPHICAL REFERENCES + +_Famous Authors_ (107-122), B.F. Harkness. + +_American Authors_ (59-73), F.W. Halsey. + +"Character Sketch," _Book-Buyer_, 24:355-357. + +"Home at Claymont," _Current Literature_, 30:221. + +"Sketch," _Outlook_, 70: 1000-1001, + +"Stockton and his Work," _Atlantic Monthly_, 87:136-138. + +CRITICISMS + +The writings of Frank R. Stockton are excellent representatives of the +man himself. How closely allied writer and writings are is very well +stated by Hamilton W. Mabie in the _Book-Buyer_ for June, 1902, "His +talk had much of the quality of his writing; it was full of quaint +conceits, whimsicalities, impossible suggestions offered with perfect +gravity. He was always perfectly natural; he never attempted to live up +to his part; in talk, at least, he never forced the note. His attitude +toward himself was slightly tinged with humor, and he knew how to foil +easily and pleasantly too great a pressure of praise." + +His tales are extravagantly impossible but extremely realistic in +effect, filled with humorous situations and singular plots, and peopled +with eccentric characters that afford amusement on every page. His most +successful writing is done when he explains contrivances upon which his +story depends. He is an original and inventive expert juggler who moves +with careless ease to the most effective ends. His characters are +little more than pieces of mechanism that act when he pulls the string. +They have little emotion and even in their love-making they show their +emotion mostly for the sake of the reader's amusement. His negro +characters are exceptions to his general treatment and are true to +life. He inveigles the reader into believing the most extravagant +incidents by having a reliable witness narrate them. + +Stockton never stoops to the burlesque, cynic, or vulgar phases of life +to secure amusement. He is grotesque and droll in his manner, and above +all always restrained. His literary life is full of sprites and gnomes +that frolic before young children and once before mature people. _The +Griffin and the Minor Canon_ is a beautiful fairy story lifted from +childhood's thought and diction into a mature realm. His humor is plain +and simple, cool and keenly calculating. A friendly critic has said of +one of his stories, "With a gentle, ceaseless murmur of amusement, and +a flickering twinkle of smiles, the story moves steadily on in the calm +triumph of its assured and unassailable absurdity, to its logical and +indisputable impossibility." This observation is very largely true of +all his stories. + +GENERAL REFERENCES + +_Frank R. Stockton_, A.T.Q. Couch. + +"Stockton's Method of Working," _Current Literature_, 32:495. + +"Criticism," _Atheneum_, 1:532. + +"Estimate," _Harper's Weekly_, 46:555. + +COLLATERAL READINGS + +_The Beeman of Orn, and Other Fanciful Tales_, Frank R. Stockton. + +_The Lady or the Tiger_, Frank R. Stockton. + +_Rudder Grange_, Frank R. Stockton. + +_A Tale of Negative Gravity_, Frank R. Stockton. + +_The Remarkable Wreck of the Thomas Hyde_, Frank R. Stockton. + +_His Wife's Deceased Sister_, Frank R. Stockton. + +_Legend of Sleepy Hollow_, Washington Irving. + +_Monsieur du Miroir_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_At the End of the Passage_, Rudyard Kipling. + +_The Vacant Lot_, Mary Wilkins Freeman. + +_The Princess Pourquoi_, Margaret Sherwood. + +_What Was It? A Mystery_, Fitz-James O'Brien. + +_Wandering Willie's Tale_, Walter Scott. + + + + +THE PIECE OF STRING[1] + + +_By Guy de Maupassant (1850-1893)_ + + +On all the roads about Goderville the peasants and their wives were +coming toward the town, for it was market day. The men walked at an +easy gait, the whole body thrown forward with every movement of their +long, crooked legs, misshapen by hard work, by the bearing down on the +plough which at the same time causes the left shoulder to rise and the +figure to slant; by the mowing of the grain, which makes one hold his +knees apart in order to obtain a firm footing; by all the slow and +laborious tasks of the fields. Their starched blue blouses, glossy as +if varnished, adorned at the neck and wrists with a bit of white +stitchwork, puffed out about their bony chests like balloons on the +point of taking flight, from which protrude a head, two arms, and two +feet. + +Some of them led a cow or a calf at the end of a rope. And their wives, +walking behind the beast, lashed it with a branch still covered with +leaves, to hasten its pace. They carried on their arms great baskets, +from which heads of chickens or of ducks were thrust forth. And they +walked with a shorter and quicker step than their men, their stiff, +lean figures wrapped in scanty shawls pinned over their flat breasts, +their heads enveloped in a white linen cloth close to the hair, with a +cap over all. + +Then a _char-à-bancs[2]_ passed, drawn by a jerky-paced nag, with two +men seated side by side shaking like jelly, and a woman behind, who +clung to the side of the vehicle to lessen the rough jolting. + +On the square at Goderville there was a crowd, a medley of men and +beasts. The horns of the cattle, the high hats, with a long, hairy nap, +of the wealthy peasants, and the head dresses of the peasant women, +appeared on the surface of the throng. And the sharp, shrill, +high-pitched voices formed an incessant, uncivilized uproar, over which +soared at times a roar of laughter from the powerful chest of a sturdy +yokel, or the prolonged bellow of a cow fastened to the wall of a +house. + +There was an all-pervading smell of the stable, of milk, of the +dunghill, of hay, and of perspiration—that acrid, disgusting odor of +man and beast peculiar to country people. + +Master Hauchecorne, of Bréauté, had just arrived at Goderville, and was +walking toward the square, when he saw a bit of string on the ground. +Master Hauchecorne, economical like every true Norman, thought that it +was well to pick up everything that might be of use; and he stooped +painfully, for he suffered with rheumatism. He took the piece of +slender cord from the ground, and was about to roll it up carefully, +when he saw Master Malandain, the harness-maker, standing in his +doorway and looking at him. They had formerly had trouble on the +subject of a halter, and had remained at odds, being both inclined to +bear malice. Master Hauchecorne felt a sort of shame at being seen thus +by his enemy, fumbling in the mud for a bit of string. He hurriedly +concealed his treasure in his blouse, then in his breeches pocket; then +he pretended to look on the ground for something else, which he did not +find; and finally he went on toward the market, his head thrust +forward, bent double by his pains. + +He lost himself at once in the slow-moving, shouting crowd, kept in a +state of excitement by the interminable bargaining. The peasants felt +of the cows, went away, returned, sorely perplexed, always afraid of +being cheated, never daring to make up their minds, watching the +vendor's eye, striving incessantly to detect the tricks of the man and +the defect in the beast. + +The women, having placed their great baskets at their feet, took out +their fowls, which lay on the ground, their legs tied together, with +frightened eyes and scarlet combs. + +They listened to offers, adhered to their prices, short of speech and +impassive of face; or else, suddenly deciding to accept the lower price +offered, they would call out to the customer as he walked slowly away:— + +"All right, Mast' Anthime. You can have it." + +Then, little by little, the square became empty, and when the +Angelus[3] struck midday those who lived too far away to go home betook +themselves to the various inns. + +At Jourdain's the common room was full of customers, as the great yard +was full of vehicles of every sort—carts, cabriolets,[4] +_char-à-bancs_, tilburys,[5] unnamable carriages, shapeless, patched, +with, their shafts reaching heavenward like arms, or with their noses +in the ground and their tails in the air. + +The vast fireplace, full of clear flame, cast an intense heat against +the backs of the row on the right of the table. Three spits were +revolving, laden with chickens, pigeons, and legs of mutton; and a +delectable odor of roast meat, and of gravy dripping from the browned +skin, came forth from the hearth, stirred the guests to merriment, and +made their mouths water. + +All the aristocracy of the plough ate there, at Mast' Jourdain's, the +innkeeper and horse trader—a shrewd rascal who had money. + +The dishes passed and were soon emptied, like the jugs of yellow cider. +Every one told of his affairs, his sales and his purchases. They +inquired about the crops. The weather was good for green stuffs, but a +little wet for wheat. + +Suddenly a drum rolled in the yard, in front of the house. In an +instant everybody was on his feet, save a few indifferent ones; and +they all ran to the door and windows with their mouths still full and +napkins in hand. + +Having finished his long tattoo, the public crier shouted in a jerky +voice, making his pauses in the wrong places:— + +"The people of Goderville, and all those present at the market are +informed that between—nine and ten o'clock this morning on the +Beuzeville—road, a black leather wallet was lost, containing five +hundred—francs, and business papers. The finder is requested to carry +it to—the mayor's at once, or to Master Fortuné Huelbrèque of +Manneville. A reward of twenty francs will be paid." + +Then he went away. They heard once more in the distance the muffled +roll of the drum and the indistinct voice of the crier. + +Then they began to talk about the incident, reckoning Master +Houlbrèque's chance of finding or not finding his wallet. + +And the meal went on. + +They were finishing their coffee when the corporal of gendarmes +appeared in the doorway. + +He inquired:— + +"Is Master Hauchecorne of Bréauté here?" + +Master Hauchecorne, who was seated at the farther end of the table, +answered:— + +"Here I am." + +And the corporal added:— + +"Master Hauchecorne, will you be kind enough to go to the mayor's +office with me? Monsieur the mayor would like to speak to you." + +The peasant, surprised and disturbed, drank his _petit verre[6]_ at one +swallow, rose, and even more bent than in the morning, for the first +steps after each rest were particularly painful, he started off, +repeating:— + +"Here I am, here I am." + +And he followed the brigadier. + +The mayor was waiting for him, seated in his arm-chair. He was the +local notary, a stout, solemn-faced man, given to pompous speeches. + +"Master Hauchecorne," he said, "you were seen this morning, on the +Beuzeville road, to pick up the wallet lost by Master Huelbrèque of +Manneville." + +The rustic, dumfounded, stared at the mayor, already alarmed by this +suspicion which had fallen upon him, although he failed to understand +it. + +"I, I—I picked up that wallet?" + +"Yes, you." + +"On my word of honor, I didn't even so much as see it." + +"You were seen." + +"They saw me, me? Who was it saw me?" + +"Monsieur Malandain, the harness-maker." + +Thereupon the old man remembered and understood; and flushing with +anger, he cried:— + +"Ah! he saw me, did he, that sneak? He saw me pick up this string, +look, m'sieu' mayor." + +And fumbling in the depths of his pocket, he produced the little piece +of cord. + +But the mayor was incredulous and shook his head. + +"You won't make me believe, Master Hauchecorne, that Monsieur +Malandain, who is a man deserving of credit, mistook this string for a +wallet." + +The peasant, in a rage, raised his hand, spit to one side to pledge his +honor, and said:— + +"It's God's own truth, the sacred truth, all the same, m'sieu' mayor. I +say it again, by my soul and my salvation." + +"After picking it up," rejoined the mayor, "you hunted a long while in +the mud, to see if some piece of money hadn't fallen out." + +The good man was suffocated with wrath and fear. + +"If any one can tell—if any one can tell lies like that to ruin an +honest man! If any one can say—" + +To no purpose did he protest; he was not believed. + +He was confronted with Monsieur Malandain, who repeated and maintained +his declaration. They insulted each other for a whole hour. At his own +request, Master Hauchecorne was searched. They found nothing on him. At +last the mayor, being sorely perplexed, discharged him, but warned him +that he proposed to inform the prosecuting attorney's office and to ask +for orders. + +The news had spread. On leaving the mayor's office, the old man was +surrounded and questioned with serious or bantering curiosity, in +which, however, there was no trace of indignation. And he began to tell +the story of the string. They did not believe him. They laughed. + +He went his way, stopping his acquaintances, repeating again and again +his story and his protestations, showing his pockets turned inside out, +to prove that he had nothing. + +They said to him:— + +"You old rogue, _va!_" + +And he lost his temper, lashing himself into a rage, feverish with +excitement, desperate because he was not believed, at a loss what to +do, and still telling his story. Night came. He must needs go home. He +started with three neighbors, to whom he pointed out the place where he +had picked up the bit of string: and all the way he talked of his +misadventure. + +During the evening he made a circuit of the village of Bréauté, in +order to tell everybody about it. He found none but incredulous +listeners. + +He was ill over it all night. + +The next afternoon, about one o'clock, Marius Paumelle, a farmhand +employed by Master Breton, a farmer of Ymauville, restored the wallet +and its contents to Master Huelbrèque of Manneville. + +The man claimed that he had found it on the road; but, being unable to +read, had carried it home and given it to his employer. + +The news soon became known in the neighborhood; Master Hauchecorne was +informed of it. He started out again at once, and began to tell his +story, now made complete by the dénouement. He was triumphant. + +"What made me feel bad," he said, "wasn't so much the thing itself, you +understand, but the lying. There's nothing hurts you so much as being +blamed for lying." + +All day long he talked of his adventure; he told it on the roads to +people who passed; at the wine-shop to people who were drinking; and +after church on the following Sunday. He even stopped strangers to tell +them about it. His mind was at rest now, and yet something embarrassed +him, although he could not say just what it was. People seemed to laugh +while they listened to him. They did not seem convinced. He felt as if +remarks were made behind his back. + +On Tuesday of the next week, he went to market at Goderville, impelled +solely by the longing to tell his story. + +Malandain, standing in his doorway, began to laugh when he saw him +coming. Why? + +He accosted a farmer from Criquetot, who did not let him finish, but +poked him in the pit of his stomach, and shouted in his face: "Go on, +you old fox!" Then he turned on his heel. + +Master Hauchecorne was speechless, and more and more disturbed. Why did +he call him "old fox"? + +When he was seated at the table, in Jourdain's Inn, he set about +explaining the affair once more. + +A horse-trader from Montvilliers called out to him:— + +"Nonsense, nonsense, you old dodger! I know all about your string!" + +"But they've found the wallet!" faltered Hauchecorne. + +"None of that, old boy; there's one who finds it, and there's one who +carries it back. I don't know just how you did it, but I understand +you." + +The peasant was fairly stunned. He understood at last. He was accused +of having sent the wallet back by a confederate, an accomplice. + +He tried to protest. The whole table began to laugh. + +He could not finish his dinner, but left the inn amid a chorus of +jeers. + +He returned home, shamefaced and indignant, suffocated by wrath, by +confusion, and all the more cast down because, with his Norman cunning, +he was quite capable of doing the thing with which he was charged, and +even of boasting of it as a shrewd trick. He had a confused idea that +his innocence was impossible to establish, his craftiness being so well +known. And he was cut to the heart by the injustice of the suspicion. + +Thereupon he began once more to tell of the adventure, making the story +longer each day, adding each time new arguments, more forcible +protestations, more solemn oaths, which he devised and prepared in his +hours of solitude, his mind being wholly engrossed by the story of the +string. The more complicated his defence and the more subtle his +reasoning, the less he was believed. + +"Those are a liar's reasons," people said behind his back. + +He realized it: he gnawed his nails, and exhausted himself in vain +efforts. + +He grew perceptibly thinner. + +Now the jokers asked him to tell the story of "The Piece of String" for +their amusement, as a soldier who has seen service is asked to tell +about his battles. His mind, attacked at its source, grew feebler. + +Late in December he took to his bed. + +In the first days of January he died, and in his delirium, of the death +agony, he protested his innocence, repeating: + +"A little piece of string—a little piece of string—see, here it is, +m'sieu' mayor." + +NOTES + +[1] _The Piece of String_ was written in 1884. Reprinted from _Little +French Masterpieces_, by permission of the publishers, _G.P. Putnam's +Sons_. + +[2] 34:5 char-à-bancs. A pleasure car. + +[3] 35:26 Angelus. A bell tolled at morning, noon, and night, according +to the Roman Catholic Church custom, to indicate the time of the +service of song and recitation in memory of the Virgin Mary. The name +is taken from the first word of the recitation. + +[4] 35:30 cabriolet. A cab. Originally a light, one-horse pleasure +carriage with two seats. + +[5] 35:30 tilbury. An old form of gig, seating two persons. + +[6] 37:20 petit verre. Little glass. + +BIOGRAPHY + +Henri René Albert Guy de Maupassant, French novelist, dramatist, and +short-story writer, was born in 1850. Until he was thirteen years old +he had no teacher except his mother, who personally superintended the +training of her two sons. Life for the two boys, during these early +years, was free and happy, Guy was a strong and robust Norman, +overflowing with animal spirits and exuberant with the joy of youthful +life. + +When thirteen years of age Maupassant attended the seminary at Yvetot, +where he found school life irksome and a most distasteful contrast to +his former free life. Later he became a student in the Lycée in Rouen. +His experience as a student here was very pleasant, and he easily +acquired his degree. In 1870 he was appointed to a clerkship in the +Navy, and a little later to a more lucrative position in the Department +of Public Instruction. His work in these two positions suffered very +materially because of his negligence and daily practice in writing +verses and essays for Flaubert, the most careful literary technicist in +the history of literature, to criticize. For seven years Maupassant +served this severe task-master, always writing, receiving criticisms, +and publishing nothing. + +Immediately after the publication of his first story Maupassant was +hailed as a finished master artist. From 1880 to 1890 he published six +novels, sixteen volumes of short-stories, three volumes of travels, and +many newspaper articles. This gigantic task was performed only because +of his regular habits and splendid physique. He wrote regularly every +morning from seven o'clock until noon, and at night always wrote out +notes on the impressions from his experiences of the day. + +Maupassant was a natural artist deeply in love with the technique of +his work. He did not write for money, although he believed that a +writer should have plenty of this world's possessions, nor did he write +for art's sake. In fact he avoided talking on the subject of writing +and to all appearances seemed to despise his profession. He wrote +because the restless, immitigable force within him compelled him to +work like a slave. He thought little of morals, or religion, but was +enamored with physical life and its insolvable problems. He was, above +everything else, a truthful man. Sometimes his subjects are unclean and +he treats them as such, but, if his subject is clean, his treatment is +undefiled. + +In 1887 the shadows of insanity began to creep athwart his life. Even +in 1884 he seemed to feel a premonition of his coming catastrophe when +he wrote: "I am afraid of the walls, of the furniture, of the familiar +objects which seem to me to assume a kind of animal life. Above all, I +fear the horrible confusion of my thought, of my reason escaping, +entangled and scattered by an invisible and mysterious anguish." The +dreaded disease developed until, in 1890, he had to suspend his +writing. In 1892 he became wholly insane and had to be committed to an +insane asylum where he died in a padded cell one year later. + +BIOGRAPHICAL REFERENCES + +_The New International Encyclopaedia_. + +_Encyclopaedia Britannica_. + +_Bookman_, 25:290-294_. + +CRITICISMS + +Maupassant's short-stories are generally conceded to be the best in +French literature. He handles his materials with great care, and his +descriptions of scenes and characters are unequalled. In his first +writings he seems impassive to the point of frigidity. He is a recorder +who sets down exactly the life before him. This is one of the lessons +he learned from Flaubert. He was not interested in what a character +thought or felt, but he noted and fondled every action of his +characters. + +He loved life, despite the lack of solutions. At times his fondness for +mere physical life leads him to the brutal stage. In his story, _On the +Water_, he gives a confession of a purely sensual man: "How gladly, at +times, I would think no more, feel no more, live the life of a brute, +in a warm, bright country, in a yellow country, without crude and +brutal verdure, in one of those Eastern countries in which one falls +asleep without concern, is active and has no cares, loves and has no +distress, and is scarcely aware that one is going on living!" + +Maupassant was a keen observer, possessed an excellent but not lofty +imagination, and never asserted a philosophy of life. His writings are +all interesting, terse, precise, and truthful, but lack the glow that +comes with a sympathetic and spiritual outlook on life. Zola says of +him: "…. a Latin of good, clear, solid head, a maker of beautiful +sentences shining like gold…." He chooses a single incident, a few +characteristics and then moulds them into a compact story. Nine-tenths +of his stories deal with selfishness and hypocrisy. + +Tolstoi wrote: "Maupassant possessed genius, that gift of attention +revealing in the objects and facts of life properties not perceived by +others; he possessed a beautiful form of expression, uttering clearly, +simply, and with charm what he wished to say; and he possessed also the +merit of sincerity, without which a work of art produces no effect; +that is he did not merely pretend to love or hate, but did indeed love +or hate what he described." + +GENERAL REFERENCES + +_Inquiries and Opinions_, Brander Matthews. + +"A Criticism," _Outlook_, 88:973-976. + +"Greatest Short Story Writer that Ever Lived," _Current Literature_, +42:636-638. + +COLLATERAL READINGS + +_Happiness_ (Odd Number), Guy de Maupassant. + +_The Wolf_, Guy de Maupassant. + +_La Mère Sauvage_, Guy de Maupassant. + +_The Confession_, Guy de Maupassant. + +_On the Journey_, Guy de Maupassant. + +_The Beggar_, Guy de Maupassant. + +_A Ghost_, Guy de Maupassant. + +_Little Soldier_, Guy de Maupassant. + +_The Wreck_, Guy de Maupassant. + +_The Necklace_, Guy de Maupassant. + +_A Note of Scarlet_, Ruth Stuart. + +_Expiation_, Octave Thanet. + +_Fagan_, Rowland Thomas. + +_La Grande Bretêche_ ("Jessup and Canby"), Honoré de Balzac. + + + + +THE MAN WHO WAS[1] + + +_By Rudyard Kipling (1865- )_ + + +Let it be clearly understood that the Russian is a delightful person +till he tucks his shirt in. As an Oriental he is charming. It is only +when he insists upon being treated as the most easterly of Western +peoples, instead of the most westerly of Easterns, that he becomes a +racial anomaly[2] extremely difficult to handle. The host never knows +which side of his nature is going to turn up next. + +Dirkovitch was a Russian—a Russian of the Russians, as he said—who +appeared to get his bread by serving the czar as an officer in a +Cossack regiment, and corresponding for a Russian newspaper with a name +that was never twice the same. He was a handsome young Oriental, with a +taste for wandering through unexplored portions of the earth, and he +arrived in India from nowhere in particular. At least no living man +could ascertain whether it was by way of Balkh, Budukhshan, Chitral, +Beloochistan, Nepaul, or anywhere else. The Indian government, being in +an unusually affable mood, gave orders that he was to be civilly +treated, and shown everything that was to be seen; so he drifted, +talking bad English and worse French, from one city to another till he +forgathered with her Majesty's White Hussars[3] in the city of +Peshawur,[4] which stands at the mouth of that narrow sword-cut in the +hills that men call the Khyber Pass. He was undoubtedly an officer, and +he was decorated, after the manner of the Russians, with little +enameled crosses, and he could talk, and (though this has nothing to do +with his merits) he had been given up as a hopeless task or case by the +Black Tyrones[5], who, individually and collectively, with hot whisky +and honey, mulled brandy and mixed spirits of all kinds, had striven in +all hospitality to make him drunk. And when the Black Tyrones, who are +exclusively Irish, fail to disturb the peace of head of a foreigner, +that foreigner is certain to be a superior man. This was the argument +of the Black Tyrones, but they were ever an unruly and self-opinionated +regiment, and they allowed junior subalterns of four years' service to +choose their wines. The spirits were always purchased by the colonel +and a committee of majors. And a regiment that would so behave may be +respected but cannot be loved. + +The White Hussars were as conscientious in choosing their wine as in +charging the enemy. There was a brandy that had been purchased by a +cultured colonel a few years after the battle of Waterloo. It has been +maturing ever since, and it was a marvelous brandy at the purchasing. +The memory of that liquor would cause men to weep as they lay dying in +the teak forests of upper Burmah[6] or the slime of the Irrawaddy[7]. +And there was a port which was notable; and there was a champagne of an +obscure brand, which always came to mess without any labels, because +the White Hussars wished none to know where the source of supply might +be found. The officer on whose head the champagne choosing lay was +forbidden the use of tobacco for six weeks previous to sampling. + +This particularity of detail is necessary to emphasize the fact that +that champagne, that port, and above all, that brandy—the green and +yellow and white liqueurs did not count—was placed at the absolute +disposition of Dirkovitch, and he enjoyed himself hugely—even more than +among the Black Tyrones. + +But he remained distressingly European through it all. The White +Hussars were—"My dear true friends," "Fellow-soldiers glorious," and +"Brothers inseparable." He would unburden himself by the hour on the +glorious future that awaited the combined arms of England and Russia +when their hearts and their territories should run side by side, and +the great mission of civilizing Asia should begin. That was +unsatisfactory, because Asia is not going to be civilized after the +methods of the West. There is too much Asia, and she is too old. You +cannot reform a lady of many lovers, and Asia has been insatiable in +her flirtations aforetime. She will never attend Sunday school, or +learn to vote save with swords for tickets. + +Dirkovitch knew this as well as any one else, but it suited him to talk +special-correspondently and to make himself as genial as he could. Now +and then he volunteered a little, a very little, information about his +own Sotnia[8] of Cossacks, left apparently to look after themselves +somewhere at the back of beyond. He had done rough work in Central +Asia, and had seen rather more help-yourself fighting than most men of +his years. But he was careful never to betray his superiority, and more +than careful to praise on all occasions the appearance, drill, uniform, +and organization of her Majesty's White Hussars. And, indeed, they were +a regiment to be admired. When Mrs. Durgan, widow of the late Sir John +Durgan, arrived in their station, and after a short time had been +proposed to by every single man at mess, she put the public sentiment +very neatly when she explained that they were all so nice that unless +she could marry them all, including the colonel and some majors who +were already married, she was not going to content herself with one of +them. Wherefore she wedded a little man in a rifle regiment—being by +nature contradictious—and the White Hussars were going to wear crape on +their arms, but compromised by attending the wedding in full force, and +lining the aisle with unutterable reproach. She had jilted them +all—from Basset-Holmer, the senior captain, to Little Mildred, the last +subaltern, and he could have given her four thousand a year and a +title. He was a viscount, and on his arrival the mess had said he had +better go into the Guards, because they were all sons of large grocers +and small clothiers in the Hussars, but Mildred begged very hard to be +allowed to stay, and behaved so prettily that he was forgiven, and +became a man, which is much more important than being any sort of +viscount. + +The only persons who did not share the general regard for the White +Hussars were a few thousand gentlemen of Jewish extraction who lived +across the border, and answered to the name of Pathan. They had only +met the regiment officially, and for something less than twenty +minutes, but the interview, which was complicated with many casualties, +had filled them with prejudice. They even called the White Hussars +"children of the devil," and sons of persons whom it would be perfectly +impossible to meet in decent society. Yet they were not above making +their aversion fill their money belts. The regiment possessed carbines, +beautiful Martini-Henri carbines, that would cob a bullet into an +enemy's camp at one thousand yards, and were even handier than the long +rifle. Therefore they were coveted all along the border, and since +demand inevitably breeds supply, they were supplied at the risk of life +and limb for exactly their weight in coined silver—seven and one half +pounds of rupees[9], or sixteen pounds and a few shillings each, +reckoning the rupee at par. They were stolen at night by snaky-haired +thieves that crawled on their stomachs under the nose of the sentries; +they disappeared mysteriously from armracks; and in the hot weather, +when all the doors and windows were open, they vanished like puffs of +their own smoke. The border people desired them first for their own +family vendettas[10] and then for contingencies. But in the long cold +nights of the Northern Indian winter they were stolen most extensively. +The traffic of murder was liveliest among the hills at that season, and +prices ruled high. The regimental guards were first doubled and then +trebled. A trooper does not much care if he loses a weapon—government +must make it good—but he deeply resents the loss of his sleep. The +regiment grew very angry, and one night-thief who managed to limp away +bears the visible marks of their anger upon him to this hour. That +incident stopped the burglaries for a time, and the guards were reduced +accordingly, and the regiment devoted itself to polo with unexpected +results, for it beat by two goals to one that very terrible polo corps +the Lushkar Light Horse, though the latter had four ponies apiece for a +short hour's fight, as well as a native officer who played like a +lambent flame across the ground. + +Then they gave a dinner to celebrate the event. The Lushkar team came, +and Dirkovitch came, in the fullest full uniform of Cossack officer, +which is as full as a dressing-gown, and was introduced to the +Lushkars, and opened his eyes as he regarded them. They were lighter +men than the Hussars, and they carried themselves with the swing that +is the peculiar right of the Punjab[11] frontier force and all +irregular horse. Like everything else in the service, it has to be +learned; but unlike many things, it is never forgotten, and remains on +the body till death. + +The great beam-roofed mess room of the White Hussars was a sight to be +remembered. All the mess plate was on the long table—the same table +that had served up the bodies of five dead officers in a forgotten +fight long and long ago—the dingy, battered standards faced the door of +entrance, clumps of winter roses lay between the silver candlesticks, +the portraits of eminent officers deceased looked down on their +successors from between the heads of sambhur[12], nilghai[13], maikhor, +and, pride of all the mess, two grinning snow-leopards that had cost +Basset-Holmer four months' leave that he might have spent in England +instead of on the road to Thibet, and the daily risk of his life on +ledge, snowslide, and glassy grass slope. + +The servants, in spotless white muslin and the crest of their regiments +on the brow of their turbans, waited behind their masters, who were +clad in the scarlet and gold of the White Hussars and the cream and +silver of the Lushkar Light Horse. Dirkovitch's dull green uniform was +the only dark spot at the board, but his big onyx eyes made up for it. +He was fraternizing effusively with the captain of the Lushkar team, +who was wondering how many of Dirkovitch's Cossacks his own long, lathy +down-countrymen could account for in a fair charge. But one does not +speak of these things openly. + +The talk rose higher and higher, and the regimental band played between +the courses, as is the immemorial custom, till all tongues ceased for a +moment with the removal of the dinner slips and the First Toast of +Obligation, when the colonel, rising, said, "Mr. Vice, the Queen," and +Little Mildred from the bottom of the table answered, "The Queen, God +bless her!" and the big spurs clanked as the big men heaved themselves +up and drank the Queen, upon whose pay they were falsely supposed to +pay their mess bills. That sacrament of the mess never grows old, and +never ceases to bring a lump into the throat of the listener wherever +he be, by land or by sea. Dirkovitch rose with his "brothers glorious," +but he could not understand. No one but an officer can understand what +the toast means; and the bulk have more sentiment than comprehension. +It all comes to the same in the end, as the enemy said when he was +wriggling on a lance point. Immediately after the little silence that +follows on the ceremony there entered the native officer who had played +for the Lushkar team. He could not of course eat with the alien, but he +came in at dessert, all six feet of him, with the blue-and-silver +turban atop, and the big black top-boots below. The mess rose joyously +as he thrust forward the hilt of his saber, in token of fealty, for the +colonel of the White Hussars to touch, and dropped into a vacant chair +amid shouts of "_Rung ho_! Hira Singh!" (which being translated means +"Go in and win!"). "Did I whack you over the knee, old man?" "Ressaidar +Sahib, what the devil made you play that kicking pig of a pony in the +last ten minutes?" "Shabash, Ressaidar Sahib!" Then the voice of the +colonel, "The health of Ressaidar Hira Singh!" + +After the shouting had died away, Hira Singh rose to reply, for he was +the cadet of a royal house, the son of a king's son, and knew what was +due on these occasions. Thus he spoke in the vernacular:— + +"Colonel Sahib and officers of this regiment, much honor have you done +me. This will I remember. We came down from afar to play you; but we +were beaten." ("No fault of yours, Ressaidar Sahib. Played on our own +ground, y' know. Your ponies were cramped from the railway. Don't +apologize.") "Therefore perhaps we will come again if it be so +ordained." ("Hear! Hear, hear, indeed! Bravo! Hsh!") "Then we will play +you afresh" ("Happy to meet you"), "till there are left no feet upon +our ponies. Thus far for sport." He dropped one hand on his sword hilt +and his eye wandered to Dirkovitch lolling back in his chair. "But if +by the will of God there arises any other game which is not the polo +game, then be assured, Colonel Sahib and officers, that we shall play +it out side by side, though _they_"—again his eye sought +Dirkovitch—"though _they_, I say, have fifty ponies to our one horse." +And with a deep-mouthed _Rung ho_! that rang like a musket butt on +flagstones, he sat down amid shoutings. + +Dirkovitch, who had devoted himself steadily to the brandy—the terrible +brandy aforementioned—did not understand, nor did the expurgated[14] +translations offered to him at all convey the point. Decidedly the +native officer's was the speech of the evening, and the clamor might +have continued to the dawn had it not been broken by the noise of a +shot without that sent every man feeling at his defenseless left side. +It is notable that Dirkovitch "reached back," after the American +fashion—a gesture that set the captain of the Lushkar team wondering +how Cossack officers were armed at mess. Then there was a scuffle, and +a yell of pain. + +"Carbine stealing again!" said the adjutant, calmly sinking back in his +chair. "This comes of reducing the guards. I hope the sentries have +killed him." + +The feet of armed men pounded on the veranda flags, and it sounded as +though something was being dragged. + +"Why don't they put him in the cells till the morning?" said the +colonel, testily. "See if they've damaged him, sergeant." + +The mess-sergeant fled out into the darkness, and returned with two +troopers and a corporal, all very much perplexed. + +"Caught a man stealin' carbines, sir," said the corporal. + +"Leastways 'e was crawling toward the barricks, sir, past the main-road +sentries; an' the sentry 'e says, sir—" + +The limp heap of rags upheld by the three men groaned. Never was seen +so destitute and demoralized an Afghan. He was turbanless, shoeless, +caked with dirt, and all but dead with rough handling. Hira Singh +started slightly at the sound of the man's pain. Dirkovitch took +another liqueur glass of brandy. + +"_What_ does the sentry say?" said the colonel. + +"Sez he speaks English, sir," said the corporal. + +"So you brought him into mess instead of handing him over to the +sergeant! If he spoke all the tongues of the Pentecost you've no +business—" + +Again the bundle groaned and muttered. Little Mildred had risen from +his place to inspect. He jumped back as though he had been shot. + +"Perhaps it would be better, sir, to send the men away," said he to the +colonel, for he was a much-privileged subaltern. He put his arms round +the rag-bound horror as he spoke, and dropped him into a chair. It may +not have been explained that the littleness of Mildred lay in his being +six feet four, and big in proportion. The corporal, seeing that an +officer was disposed to look after the capture, and that the colonel's +eye was beginning to blaze, promptly removed himself and his men. The +mess was left alone with the carbine thief, who laid his head on the +table and wept bitterly, hopelessly, and inconsolably, as little +children weep. + +Hira Singh leaped to his feet with a long-drawn vernacular oath +"Colonel Sahib," said he, "that man is no Afghan, for they weep '_Ai! +Ai_!' Nor is he of Hindustan, for they weep,'_Oh! Ho_!' He weeps after +the fashion of the white men, who say '_Ow! Ow_!'" + +"Now where the dickens did you get that knowledge, Hira Singh?" said +the captain of the Lushkar team. + +"Hear him!" said Hira Singh, simply, pointing at the crumpled figure +that wept as though it would never cease. + +"He said, 'My God!'" said Little Mildred, "I heard him say it." + +The colonel and the mess room looked at the man in silence. It is a +horrible thing to hear a man cry. A woman can sob from the top of her +palate, or her lips, or anywhere else, but a man cries from his +diaphragm, and it rends him to pieces. Also, the exhibition causes the +throat of the on-looker to close at the top. + +"Poor devil!" said the colonel, coughing tremendously, "We ought to +send him to hospital. He's been manhandled." + +Now the adjutant loved his rifles. They were to him as his +grandchildren—the men standing in the first place. He grunted +rebelliously: "I can understand an Afghan stealing, because he's made +that way. But I can't understand his crying. That makes it worse." + +The brandy must have affected Dirkovitch, for he lay back in his chair +and stared at the ceiling. There was nothing special in the ceiling +beyond a shadow as of a huge black coffin. Owing to some peculiarity in +the construction of the mess room this shadow was always thrown when +the candles were lighted. It never disturbed the digestion of the White +Hussars. They were, in rather proud of it. + +"Is he going to cry all night?" said the colonel, "or are we supposed +to sit up with Little Mildred's guest until he feels better?" + +The man in the chair threw up his head and stared at the mess. Outside, +the wheels of the first of those bidden to the festivities crunched the +roadway. + +"Oh, my God!" said the man in the chair, and every soul in the mess +rose to his feet. Then the Lushkar captain did a deed for which he +ought to have been given the Victoria Cross—distinguished gallantry in +a fight against overwhelming curiosity. He picked up his team with his +eyes as the hostess picks up the ladies at the opportune moment, and +pausing only by the colonel's chair to say, "This isn't _our_ affair, +you know, sir," led the team into the veranda and the gardens. Hira +Singh was the last, and he looked at Dirkovitch as he moved. But +Dirkovitch had departed into a brandy paradise of his own. His lips +moved without sound, and he was studying the coffin on the ceiling. + +"White—white all over," said Basset-Holmer, the adjutant. "What a +pernicious renegade[15] he must be! I wonder where he came from?" + +The colonel shook the man gently by the arm, and "Who are you?" said +he. + +There was no answer. The man stared round the mess room and smiled in +the colonel's face. Little Mildred, who was always more of a woman than +a man till "Boot and saddle" was sounded, repeated the question in a +voice that would have drawn confidences from a geyser. The man only +smiled. Dirkovitch, at the far end of the table, slid gently from his +chair to the floor, No son of Adam, in this present imperfect world, +can mix the Hussars' champagne with the Hussars' brandy by five and +eight glasses of each without remembering the pit whence he has been +digged and descending thither. The band began to play the tune with +which the White Hussars, from the date of their formation, preface all +their functions. They would sooner be disbanded than abandon that tune. +It is a part of their system. The man straightened himself in his chair +and drummed on the table with his fingers. + +"I don't see why we should entertain lunatics," said the colonel; "call +a guard and send him off to the cells. We'll look into the business in +the morning. Give him a glass of wine first, though." + +Little Mildred filled a sherry glass with the brandy and thrust it over +to the man. He drank, and the tune rose louder, and he straightened +himself yet more. Then he put out his long-taloned hands to a piece of +plate opposite and fingered it lovingly. There was a mystery connected +with that piece of plate in the shape of a spring, which converted what +was a seven-branched candlestick, three springs each side and one on +the middle, into a sort of wheel-spoke candelabrum[16]. He found the +spring, pressed it, and laughed weakly. He rose from his chair and +inspected a picture on the wall, then moved on to another picture, the +mess watching him without a word. + +When he came to the mantelpiece he shook his head and seemed +distressed. A piece of plate representing a mounted hussar in full +uniform caught his eye. He pointed to it, and then to the mantelpiece, +with inquiry in his eyes. + +"What is it—oh, what is it?" said Little Mildred. Then, as a mother +might speak to a child, "That is a horse—yes, a horse." + +Very slowly came the answer, in a thick, passionless guttural: "Yes, +I—have seen. But—where is _the_ horse?" + +You could have heard the hearts of the mess beating as the men drew +back to give the stranger full room in his wanderings. There was no +question of calling the guard. + +Again he spoke, very slowly, "Where is _our_ horse?" + +There is no saying what happened after that. There is but one horse in +the White Hussars, and his portrait hangs outside the door of the mess +room. He is the piebald drum-horse the king of the regimental band, +that served the regiment for seven-and-thirty years, and in the end was +shot for old age. Half the mess tore the thing down from its place and +thrust it into the man's hands. He placed it above the mantelpiece; it +clattered on the ledge, as his poor hands dropped it, and he staggered +toward the bottom of the table, falling into Mildred's chair. The band +began to play the "River of Years" waltz, and the laughter from the +gardens came into the tobacco-scented mess room. But nobody, even the +youngest, was thinking of waltzes. They all spoke to one another +something after this fashion: "The drum-horse hasn't hung over the +mantelpiece since '67." "How does he know?" "Mildred, go and speak to +him again." "Colonel, what are you going to do?" "Oh, dry up, and give +the poor devil a chance to pull himself together!" "It isn't possible, +anyhow. The man's a lunatic." + +Little Mildred stood at the colonel's side talking into his ear. "Will +you be good enough to take your seats, please, gentlemen?" he said, and +the mess dropped into the chairs. + +Only Dirkovitch's seat, next to Little Mildred's, was blank, and Little +Mildred himself had found Hira Singh's place. The wide-eyed mess +sergeant filled the glasses in dead silence. Once more the colonel +rose, but his hand shook, and the port spilled on the table as he +looked straight at the man in Little Mildred's chair and said, +hoarsely, "Mr. Vice, the Queen." There was a little pause, but the man +sprang to his feet and answered, without hesitation, "The Queen, God +bless her!" and as he emptied the thin glass he snapped the shank +between his fingers. + +Long and long ago, when the Empress of India was a young woman, and +there were no unclean ideals in the land, it was the custom in a few +messes to drink the Queen's toast in broken glass, to the huge delight +of the mess contractors. The custom is now dead, because there is +nothing to break anything for, except now and again the word of a +government, and that has been broken already. + +"That settles it," said the colonel, with a gasp. "He's not a sergeant. +What in the world is he?" + +The entire mess echoed the word, and the volley of questions would have +scared any man. Small wonder that the ragged, filthy invader could only +smile and shake his head. + +From under the table, calm and smiling urbanely[17], rose Dirkovitch, +who had been roused from healthful slumber by feet upon his body. By +the side of the man he rose, and the man shrieked and groveled at his +feet. It was a horrible sight, coming so swiftly upon the pride and +glory of the toast that had brought the strayed wits together. + +Dirkovitch made no offer to raise him, but Little Mildred heaved him up +in an instant. It is not good that a gentleman who can answer to the +Queen's toast should lie at the feet of a subaltern of Cossacks. + +The hasty action tore the wretch's upper clothing nearly to the waist, +and his body was seamed with dry black scars. There is only one weapon +in the world that cuts in parallel lines, and it is neither the cane +nor the cat. Dirkovitch saw the marks, and the pupils of his eyes +dilated—also, his face changed. He said something that sounded like +"Shto ve takete"; and the man, fawning, answered, "Chetyre." + +"What's that?" said everybody together. + +"His number. That is number four, you know." Dirkovitch spoke very +thickly. + +"What has a Queen's officer to do with a qualified number?" said the +colonel, and there rose an unpleasant growl round the table. + +"How can I tell?" said the affable Oriental, with a sweet smile. "He is +a—how you have it?—escape—runaway, from over there." + +He nodded toward the darkness of the night. + +"Speak to him, if he'll answer you, and speak to him gently," said +Little Mildred, settling the man in a chair. It seemed most improper to +all present that Dirkovitch. should sip brandy as he talked in purring, +spitting Russian to the creature who answered so feebly and with such +evident dread. But since Dirkovitch appeared to understand, no man said +a word. They breathed heavily, leaning forward, in the long gaps of the +conversation. The next time that they have no engagements on hand the +White Hussars intend to go to St. Petersburg and learn Russian. + +"He does not know how many years ago," said Dirkovitch, facing the +mess, "but he says it was very long ago, in a war, I think that there +was an accident. He says he was of this glorious and distinguished +regiment in the war." + +"The rolls! The rolls! Holmer, get the rolls!" said Little Mildred, and +the adjutant dashed off bareheaded to the orderly room where the rolls +of the regiment were kept. He returned just in time to hear Dirkovitch +conclude, "Therefore I am most sorry to say there was an accident, +which would have been, reparable if he had apologized to our colonel, +whom he had insulted." + +Another growl, which the colonel tried to beat down. The mess was in no +mood to weigh insults to Russian colonels just then. + +"He does not remember, but I think that there was an accident, and so +he was not exchanged among the prisoners, but he was sent to another +place—how do you say?—the country. _So_, he says, he came here. He does +not know how he came. Eh? He _was_ at Chepany[18]"—the man caught the +word, nodded, and shivered—"at Zhigansk[19] and Irkutsk[20]. I cannot +understand how he escaped. He says, too, that he was in the forests for +many years, but how many years he has forgotten—that with many things. +It was an accident; done because he did not apologise to our colonel. +Ah!" + +Instead of echoing Dirkovitch's sigh of regret, it is sad to record +that the White Hussars livelily exhibited unchristian delight and other +emotions, hardly restrained by their sense of hospitality. Holmer flung +the frayed and yellow regimental rolls on the table, and the men flung +themselves atop of these. + +"Steady! Fifty-six—fifty-five—fifty-four," said Holmer. "Here we are. +'Lieutenant Austin Limmason—_missing_.' That was before Sebastopol[21]. +What an infernal shame! Insulted one of their colonels, and was quietly +shipped off. Thirty years of his life wiped out." + +"But he never apologized. Said he'd see him——first," chorussed the +mess. + +"Poor devil! I suppose he never had the chance afterward. How did he +come here?" said the colonel. + +The dingy heap in the chair could give no answer. + +"Do you know who you are?" + +It laughed weakly. + +"Do you know that you are Limmason—Lieutenant Limmason, of the White +Hussars?" + +Swift as a shot came the answer, in a slightly surprised tone, "Yes, +I'm Limmason, of course." The light died out in his eyes, and he +collapsed afresh, watching every motion of Dirkovitch with terror. A +flight from Siberia may fix a few elementary facts in the mind, but it +does not lead to continuity of thought. The man could not explain how, +like a homing pigeon, he had found his way to his own old mess again. +Of what he had suffered or seen he knew nothing. He cringed before +Dirkovitch as instinctively as he had pressed the spring of the +candlestick, sought the picture of the drum-horse, and answered to the +Queen's toast. The rest was a blank that the dreaded Russian tongue +could only in part remove. His head bowed on his breast, and he giggled +and cowered alternately. + +The devil that lived in the brandy prompted Dirkovitch at this +extremely inopportune moment to make a speech. He rose, swaying +slightly, gripped the table edge, while his eyes glowed like opals, and +began:—"Fellow-soldiers glorious—true friends and hospitables. It was +an accident, and deplorable—most deplorable." Here he smiled sweetly +all round the mess. "But you will think of this little, little thing. +So little, is it not? The czar! Posh! I slap my fingers—I snap my +fingers at him. Do I believe in him? No! But the Slav who has done +nothing, _him_ I believe. Seventy—how much?—millions that have done +nothing—not one thing. Napoleon was an episode." He banged a hand on +the table. "Hear you, old peoples, we have done nothing in the +world—out here. All our work is to do: and it shall be done, old +peoples. Get away!" He waved his hand imperiously, and pointed to the +man. "You see him. He is not good to see. He was just one little—oh, so +little—accident, that no one remembered. Now he is _That_. So will you +be, brother-soldiers so brave—so will you be. But you will never come +back. You will all go where he has gone, or"—he pointed to the great +coffin shadow on the ceiling, and muttering, "Seventy millions—get +away, you old people," fell asleep. + +"Sweet, and to the point," said Little Mildred. "What's the use of +getting wroth? Let's make the poor devil comfortable." + +But that was a matter suddenly and swiftly taken from the loving hands +of the White Hussars. The lieutenant had returned only to go away again +three days later, when the wail of the "Dead March" and the tramp of +the squadrons told the wondering station, that saw no gap in the table, +an officer of the regiment had resigned his new-found commission. + +And Dirkovitch—bland, supple, and always genial—went away too by a +night train. Little Mildred and another saw him off, for he was the +guest of the mess, and even had he smitten the colonel with the open +hand the law of the mess allowed no relaxation of hospitality. + +"Good-by, Dirkovitch, and a pleasant journey," said Little Mildred. + +"_Au revoir[22]_ my true friends," said the Russian. + +"Indeed! But we thought you were going home?" + +"Yes; but I will come again. My friends, is that road shut?" He pointed +to where the north star burned over the Khyber Pass. + +"By Jove! I forgot. Of course. Happy to meet you, old man, any time you +like. Got everything you want,—cheroots, ice, bedding? That's all +right. Well, _au revoir_, Dirkovitch." + +"Um," said the other man, as the tail-lights of the train grew small. +"Of—all—the—unmitigated[23]—" + +Little Mildred answered nothing, but watched the north star, and hummed +a selection from a recent burlesque that had much delighted the White +Hussars. It ran:— + + "I'm sorry for Mister Bluebeard, + + I'm sorry to cause him pain; + + But a terrible spree there's sure to be + + When he comes back again." + +NOTES + +[1] _The Man Who Was_ was written in 1889. + +[2] 46:6 anomaly. Deviation from type. + +[3] 47:1 Hussars. Light-horse troopers armed with sabre and carbine. + +[4] 47:1 Peshawur. City in British India. + +[5] 47:7 Tyrones. From a county in Ireland by this name. + +[6] 47:26 Burmah. In southeastern Asia. Part of the British Empire. + +[7] 47:27 Irrawaddy. Chief river of Burma. + +[8] 48:27 Sotnia. Company of the Cossacks. + +[9] 50:14 rupee. Indian coin worth about forty-eight cents. + +[10] 50:21 vendettas. Private blood-feuds. + +[11] 51:14 Punjab. Country of five rivers, tributaries of the Indus. + +[12] 81:26 Sambhur. A rusine deer found in India. + +[13] 51:26 nilghai. Antelope with hind legs shorter than its fore-legs. + +[14] 54:9 expurgated. Purified. + +[15] 57:23 renegade. One who deserts his faith. + +[16] 58:26 candelabrum. Stand supporting several lamps. + +[17] 61:3 urbanely. Politely. + +[18] 63:2 Chepany. Town in Siberia. + +[19] 63:4 Zhigansk. Town in Siberia. + +[20] 63:4 Irkutsk. Province and city in Siberia. + +[21] 63:17 Sebastopol. Seaport in Russia. + +[22] 65:26 Au revoir. Till we meet again. + +[23] 66:6 unmitigated. As bad as can be. + +BIOGRAPHICAL REFERENCES + +_Essays on Modern Novelists_, William Lyon Phelps. + +_A Kipling Primer_, Knowles. + +_Rudyard Kipling_, Richard Le Galliene. + +"Kipling to French Eyes," _Bookman_, 26: 584. + +"Life of Kipling," _Encyclopaedia Britannica. + +"Life of Kipling," _The Universal Encyclopedia_. + +BIOGRAPHY + +Rudyard Kipling, the most vigorous, versatile, and highly endowed of +the present-day writers of fiction, was born in Bombay, India, December +30, 1865. His place of birth and extensive travelling make him more +Anglo-Saxon than British. His father was for many years connected with +the schools of art at Bombay and Lahore in India. His mother, Alice +MacDonald, was the daughter of a Methodist clergyman. + +Kipling was brought to England when he was five years old to be +educated. While in college at Westward Ho he edited the _College +Chronicle_. For this paper he contributed regularly, poetry and +stories. After his school days and on his return to India, he served on +the editorial staff of the Lahore _Civil and Military Gazette_ from +1882 to 1887, and was assistant editor of the _Pioneer_ at Allahabad +from 1887 to 1889. + +Kipling has travelled extensively. He is at home in India, China, +Japan, Africa, Australia, England, and America. The odd part about his +realistic observations, however, is that his notes, whether written +about California or India, are often repudiated by the people whom he +has visited. After visiting England and the United States in a vain +effort to find a publisher for his writings, he returned to India and +published in the _Pioneer_ his _American Notes_, which were immediately +reproduced in book form in New York in 1891. + +He married Miss Balestier of New York in 1892. They settled at +Brattleboro, Vermont, immediately after their marriage and lived there +until 1896. Kipling revisited the United States in 1899. While on this +trip he suffered a severe attack of pneumonia which brought out a +demonstration of interest from the American people that clearly showed +their appreciation of him as a man and a writer. + +CRITICISMS + +Kipling is journalistic in all his writings. Oftentimes his material is +very thin, flippant, and sensational, but he always is interesting, for +he possesses the expert reporter's unerring judgment for choosing the +essentials of his situation, character, or description, that catch and +hold the reader's attention. In his earlier writings, like _Plain Tales +from the Hills_ or _The Jungle Books_, the radical racial differences +between his characters and readers, and the background of primitive, +mysterious India caught the reading world and instantly established +Kipling's fame. + +His technique is brilliant, his wit keen, and his energy of the bold +and dashing military type. This audacious energy leads him very often +into sprawling situations, a worship of imperialism, and reckless +statements concerning moral and spiritual laws. Unlike Bret Harte, who +was in many respects one of Kipling's ideals, he leaves his bad and +coarse characters disreputable to the end. This is due in a large +measure to the lack of warmth and light in his writings. In +contradiction to this type of his works his _William the Conqueror_ and +_An Habitation Enforced_ are filled with a gentle-human sympathy that +causes us to forget and forgive any vulgarity he may have used in his +more primitive and coarse characters. Even Kipling partisans must +sometimes wish that Kipling's vision were not so dimmed by the British +flag and that he might forget for a time the British soldier he loves +so ardently. + +His writings since 1899 are much more mechanical than his earlier +works. He seems, at times, to resort to the orator's superficial tricks +in his attempts to attract readers. The _Athenaeum_, a friendly organ, +says of his later work: "In his new part—the missionary of Empire—Mr. +Kipling is living the strenuous life. He has frankly abandoned story +telling, and is using his complete and powerful armory in the interests +of patriotic zeal." + +Whatever may be the final judgment of the world concerning Kipling's +claim to literary genius, the young student may rest assured that there +is no one in England who can compare with this strenuous and versatile +writer. He is original and powerful, interesting and realistic. He is a +lover of the men who earn their bread by the sweat of their faces and a +despiser of "flannelled fools." He lacks the day-dreams of Stevenson +and preaches from every housetop the gospel of virile, acting morality. +Many of his readers have criticised adversely his spiritual teachings, +because of the furious energy with which he denounces an apathetic +religion and eulogizes the person who works with all his might, day +after day, for the highest he knows and never fears the day of death +and judgment. + +GENERAL REFERENCES + +_The Book of the Short Story_, Alexander Jessup. + +_The Short Story in English_, Henry Seidel Canby. + +_Bibliography of Kipling's Works_, Eugene P, Saxton. + +"Contradictory Elements in Rudyard Kipling," _Current Literature_, 44: +274. + +"Where Kipling Stands," _Bookman_, 29: 120-122. + +"Are there two Kiplings?" _Cosmopolitan_, 31: 653-660. + +"Literary Style of Kipling," _Lippincott_, 73: 99-103. + +COLLATERAL READINGS + +_The Man Who Would be King_, Rudyard Kipling. + +_William the Conqueror_, Rudyard Kipling. + +_Phantom Rickshaw_, Rudyard Kipling. + +_The Finest Story in the World_, Rudyard Kipling. + +_Under the Deodars_, Rudyard Kipling. + +_An Habitation Enforced_, Rudyard Kipling. + +_Plain Tales from the Hills_, Rudyard Kipling. + +_The Light that Failed_, Rudyard Kipling. + +_Wee Willie Winkie_, Rudyard Kipling. + +_Baa Baa Black Sheep_, Rudyard Kipling. + +_Captains Courageous_, Rudyard Kipling. + +_The Jungle Books_, Rudyard Kipling. + +_They_, Rudyard Kipling. + +_The Brushwood Boy_, Rudyard Kipling. + +_Christ in Flanders_, Honoré de Balzac. + +_The Old Gentleman of the Black Stock_, Thomas Nelson Page. + +_A New England Nun_, Mary Wilkins Freeman. + +_Outcasts of Poker Flat_, Bret Harte. + +_The Siege of Berlin_, Alphonse Dadoed. + +_The Prisoner of Assiout_, Grant Allen. + +_A Terribly Strange Bed_, Wilkie Collins. + +_The Prisoners_, Guy de Maupassant. + +_Mr. Isaacs_, F. Marion Crawford. + +_Where Love Is, There God Is Also_, Leo Tolstoi. + + + + +THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER [1] + + +_By Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849)_ + + + Son coeur est un luth suspendu; + + Sitôt qu'on le touche il résonne. + + —De Béranger.[2] + +During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of +the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had +been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of +country; and at length found myself, as the shades of the evening drew +on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher. I know not how it +was; but, with the first glimpse of the building, a sense of +insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit. I say insufferable; for the +feeling was unrelieved by any of that half-pleasurable, because poetic, +sentiment, with which the mind usually receives even the sternest +natural images of the desolate or terrible. I looked upon the scene +before me—upon the mere house, and the simple landscape features of the +domain—upon the bleak walls—upon the vacant eye-like windows—a few rank +sedges—and upon a few white trunks of decayed trees—with an utter +depression of soul which I can compare to no earthly sensation more +properly than to the after-dream of the reveller upon opium—the bitter +lapse into every-day life—the hideous dropping off of the veil. There +was an iciness, a sinking, a sickening of the heart—an unredeemed +dreariness of thought which no goading of the imagination could torture +into aught of the sublime. What was it—I paused to think—what was it +that so unnerved me in the contemplation of the House of Usher? It was +a mystery all insoluble; nor could I grapple with the shadowy fancies +that crowded upon me as I pondered. I was forced to fall back upon the +unsatisfactory conclusion that while, beyond doubt, there _are_ +combinations of very simple natural objects which have the power of +thus affecting us, still the analysis of this power lies among +considerations beyond our depth. It was possible, I reflected, that a +mere different arrangement of the particulars of the scene, of the +details of the picture, would be sufficient to modify, or perhaps to +annihilate its capacity for sorrowful impression; and, acting upon this +idea, I reined my horse to the precipitous brink of a black and lurid +tarn[3] that lay in unruffled lustre by the dwelling, and gazed +down—but with a shudder even more thrilling than before—upon the +remodelled and inverted images of the gray sedge, and the ghastly tree +stems, and the vacant and eye-like windows. + +Nevertheless, in this mansion of gloom I now proposed to myself a +sojourn of some weeks. Its proprietor, Roderick Usher, had been one of +my boon companions in boyhood; but many years had elapsed since our +last meeting. A letter, however, had lately reached me in a distant +part of the country—a letter from him—which, in its wildly importunate +nature, had admitted of no other than a personal reply. The Ms. gave +evidence of nervous agitation. The writer spoke of acute bodily +illness, of a mental disorder which oppressed him, and of an earnest +desire to see me, as his best, and indeed his only, personal friend, +with a view of attempting, by the cheerfulness of my society, some +alleviation of his malady. It was the manner in which all this, and +much more, was said—it was the apparent _heart_ that went with his +request—which allowed me no room for hesitation; and I accordingly +obeyed forthwith what I still considered a very singular summons. + +Although, as boys, we had been even intimate associates, yet I really +knew little of my friend. His reserve had been always excessive and +habitual. I was aware, however, that his very ancient family had been +noted, time out of mind, for a peculiar sensibility of temperament, +displaying itself, through long ages, in many works of exalted art, and +manifested, of late, in repeated deeds of munificent, yet unobtrusive, +charity, as well as in a passionate devotion to the intricacies, +perhaps even more than to the orthodox and easily recognizable +beauties, of musical science. I had learned, too, the very remarkable +fact that the stem of the Usher race, all time-honored as it was, had +put forth, at no period, any enduring branch; in other words, that the +entire family lay in the direct line of descent, and had always, with +very trifling and very temporary variation, so lain. It was this +deficiency, I considered, while running over in thought the perfect +keeping of the character of the premises with the accredited character +of the people, and while speculating upon the possible influence which +the one, in the long lapse of centuries, might have exercised upon the +other—it was this deficiency, perhaps, of collateral issue, and the +consequent undeviating transmission, from sire to son, of the patrimony +with the name, which had, at length, so identified the two as to merge +the original title of the estate in the quaint and equivocal +appellation of the _House of Usher_—an appellation which seemed to +include, in the minds of the peasantry who used it, both the family and +the family mansion. + +I have said that the sole effect of my somewhat childish experiment of +looking down within the tarn had been to deepen the first singular +impression. There can be no doubt that the consciousness of the rapid +increase of my superstition—for why should I not so term it?—served +mainly to accelerate the increase itself. Such, I have long known, is +the paradoxical law of all sentiments having terror as a basis. And it +might have been for this reason only, that, when I again uplifted my +eyes to the house itself, from its image in the pool, there grew in my +mind a strange fancy—a fancy so ridiculous, indeed, that I but mention +it to show the vivid force of the sensations which oppressed me. I had +so worked upon my imagination as really to believe that about the whole +mansion and domain there hung an atmosphere peculiar to themselves and +their immediate vicinity—an atmosphere which had no affinity with the +air of heaven, but which had reeked up from the decayed trees, and the +gray wall, and the silent tarn—a pestilent and mystic vapor, dull, +sluggish, faintly discernible, and leaden-hued. + +Shaking off from my spirit what _must_ have been a dream, I scanned +more narrowly the real aspect of the building. Its principal feature +seemed to be that of an excessive antiquity. The discoloration of ages +had been great. Minute fungi overspread the whole exterior, hanging in +a fine, tangled web-work from the eaves. Yet all this was apart from +any extraordinary dilapidation. No portion of the masonry had fallen; +and there appeared to be a wild inconsistency between its still perfect +adaptation of parts, and the crumbling condition of the individual +stones. In this there was much that reminded me of the specious +totality of old woodwork which has rotted for years in some neglected +vault, with no disturbance from the breath of the external air. Beyond +this indication of extensive decay, however, the fabric gave little +token of instability. Perhaps the eye of a scrutinizing observer might +have discovered a barely perceptible fissure, which, extending from the +roof of the building in front, made its way down the wall in a zigzag +direction, until it became lost in the sullen waters of the tarn. + +Noticing these things, I rode over a short causeway to the house. A +servant in waiting took my horse, and I entered the Gothic archway of +the hall. A valet, of stealthy step, thence conducted me, in silence, +through many dark and intricate passages in my progress to the _studio_ +of his master. Much that I encountered on the way contributed, I know +not how, to heighten the vague sentiments of which I have already +spoken. While the objects around me—while the carvings of the ceilings, +the sombre tapestries of the walls, the ebon blackness of the floors, +and the phantasmagoric armorial trophies which rattled as I strode, +were but matters to which, or to such as which, I had been accustomed +from my infancy—while I hesitated not to acknowledge how familiar was +all this—I still wondered to find how unfamiliar were the fancies which +ordinary images were stirring up. On one of the staircases I met the +physician of the family. His countenance, I thought, wore a mingled +expression of low cunning and perplexity. He accosted me with +trepidation and passed on. The valet now threw open a door and ushered +me into the presence of his master. + +The room in which I found myself was very large and lofty. The windows +were long, narrow, and pointed, and at so vast a distance from the +black oaken floor as to be altogether inaccessible from within. Feeble +gleams of encrimsoned light made their way through the trellised panes, +and served to render sufficiently distinct the more prominent objects +around; the eye, however, struggled in vain to reach the remoter angles +of the chamber, or the recesses of the vaulted and fretted ceiling. +Dark draperies hung upon the walls. The general furniture was profuse, +comfortless, antique, and tattered. Many books and musical instruments +lay scattered about, but failed to give any vitality to the scene. I +felt that I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow. An air of stern, deep, +and irredeemable gloom hung over and pervaded all. + +Upon my entrance, Usher arose from a sofa on which he had been lying at +full length, and greeted me with, a vivacious warmth which had much in +it, I at first thought, of an overdone cordiality—of the constrained +effort of the _ennuyé_[4] man of the world. A glance, however, at his +countenance convinced me of his perfect sincerity. We sat down; and for +some moments, while he spoke not. I gazed upon him with a feeling half +of pity, half of awe. Surely, man had never before so terribly altered, +in so brief a period, as had Roderick Usher! It was with difficulty +that I could bring myself to admit the identity of the wan being before +me with the companion of my early boyhood. Yet the character of his +face had been at all times remarkable. A cadaverousness of complexion; +an eye large, liquid, and luminous beyond comparison; lips somewhat +thin and very pallid, but of a surpassingly beautiful curve; a nose of +a delicate Hebrew model, but with a breadth of nostril unusual in +similar formations; a finely moulded chin, speaking, in its want of +prominence, of a want of moral energy; hair of a more than web-like +softness and tenuity; these features, with an inordinate expansion +above the regions of the temple, made up altogether a countenance not +easily to be forgotten. And now in the mere exaggeration of the +prevailing character of these features, and of the expression they were +wont to convey, lay so much of change that I doubted to whom I spoke. +The now ghastly pallor of the skin, and the now miraculous lustre of +the eye, above all things startled, and even awed me. The silken hair, +too, had been suffered to grow all unheeded, and as, in its wild +gossamer texture, it floated rather than fell about the face, I could +not, even with effort, connect its arabesque expression with any idea +of simple humanity. + +In the manner of my friend I was at once struck with an incoherence—an +inconsistency; and I soon found this to arise from a series of feeble +and futile struggles to overcome an habitual trepidancy, an excessive +nervous agitation. For something of this nature I had indeed been +prepared, no less by his letter than by reminiscences of certain boyish +traits, and by conclusions deduced from his peculiar physical +conformation and temperament. His action was alternately vivacious and +sullen. His voice varied rapidly from a tremulous indecision (when the +animal spirits seemed utterly in abeyance) to that species of energetic +concision—that abrupt, weighty, unhurried, and hollow-sounding +enunciation—that leaden, self-balanced, and perfectly modulated +guttural utterance, which may be observed in the lost drunkard, or the +irreclaimable eater of opium, during the periods of his most intense +excitement. + +It was thus that he spoke of the object of my visit, of his earnest +desire to see me, and of the solace he expected me to afford him. He +entered, at some length, into what he conceived to be the nature of his +malady. It was, he said, a constitutional and a family evil, and one +for which he despaired to find a remedy—a mere nervous affection, he +immediately added, which would undoubtedly soon pass off. It displayed +itself in a host of unnatural sensations. Some of these, as he detailed +them, interested and bewildered me; although, perhaps, the terms and +the general manner of the narration had their weight. He suffered much +from a morbid acuteness of the senses. The most insipid food was alone +endurable; he could wear only garments of certain texture; the odors of +all flowers were oppressive; his eyes were tortured by even a faint +light; and there were but peculiar sounds, and these from stringed +instruments, which did not inspire him with horror. + +To an anomalous species of terror I found him a bounden[5] slave. "I +shall perish," said he, "I _must_ perish, in this deplorable folly. +Thus, thus, and not otherwise, shall I be lost. I dread the events of +the future, not in themselves, but in their results. I shudder at the +thought of any, even the most trivial, incident, which may operate upon +this intolerable agitation of soul. I have, indeed, no abhorrence of +danger, except in its absolute effect—in terror. In this unnerved—in +this pitiable condition—I feel that the period will sooner or later +arrive when I must abandon life and reason together, in some struggle +with the grim phantasm, FEAR." + +I learned, moreover, at intervals, and through broken and equivocal +hints, another singular feature of his mental condition. He was +enchained by certain superstitious impressions in regard to the +dwelling which he tenanted, and whence, for many years, he had never +ventured forth—in regard to an influence whose supposititious force was +conveyed in terms too shadowy here to be restated—an influence which +some peculiarities in the mere form and substance of his family +mansion, had, by dint of long sufferance, he said, obtained over his +spirit—an effect which the _physique_ of the gray walls and turrets, +and of the dim tarn into which they all looked down, had, at length, +brought about upon the _morale_ of his existence. + +He admitted, however, although with hesitation, that much of the +peculiar gloom which thus afflicted him could be traced to a more +natural and far more palpable origin—to the severe and long-continued +illness—indeed to the evidently approaching dissolution—of a tenderly +beloved sister, his sole companion for long years, his last and only +relative on earth. "Her decease," he said, with a bitterness which I +can never forget, "would leave him (him the hopeless and the frail) the +last of the ancient race of the Ushers." While he spoke, the lady +Madeline (for so was she called) passed slowly through a remote portion +of the apartment, and, without having noticed my presence, disappeared. +I regarded her with an utter astonishment not unmingled with dread[6]; +and yet I found it impossible to account for such feelings. A sensation +of stupor oppressed me, as my eyes followed her retreating steps. When +a door, at length, closed upon her, my glance sought instinctively and +eagerly the countenance of the brother; but he had buried his face in +his hands, and I could only perceive that a far more than ordinary +wanness had overspread the emaciated fingers through which trickled +many passionate tears. + +The disease of the lady Madeline had long baffled the skill of her +physicians. A settled apathy, a gradual wasting away of the person, and +frequent although transient affections of a partially cataleptical +character, were the unusual diagnosis. Hitherto she had steadily borne +up against the pressure of her malady, and had not betaken herself +finally to bed; but on the closing in of the evening of my arrival at +the house, she succumbed (as her brother told me at night with +inexpressible agitation) to the prostrating power of the destroyer; and +I learned that the glimpse I had obtained of her person would thus +probably be the last I should obtain—that the lady, at least while +living, would be seen by me no more. + +For several days ensuing her name was unmentioned by either Usher or +myself; and during this period I was busied in earnest endeavors to +alleviate the melancholy of my friend. We painted and read together; or +I listened, as if in a dream, to the wild improvisations[7] of his +speaking guitar. And thus, as a closer and still closer intimacy +admitted me more unreservedly into the recesses of his spirit, the more +bitterly did I perceive the futility of all attempt at cheering a mind +from which darkness, as if an inherent positive quality, poured forth +upon all objects of the moral and physical universe, in one unceasing +radiation of gloom. + +I shall ever bear about me a memory of the many solemn hours I thus +spent alone with the master of the House of Usher. Yet I should fail in +any attempt to convey an idea of the exact character of the studies, or +of the occupations in which he involved me, or led me the way. An +excited and highly distempered ideality threw a sulphurous luster over +all. His long, improvised dirges will ring forever in my ears. Among +other things, I hold painfully in mind a certain singular perversion +and amplification of the wild air of the last waltz of von Weber[8]. +From the paintings over which his elaborate fancy brooded, and which +grew, touch by touch, into vaguenesses at which I shuddered the more +thrillingly because I shuddered knowing not why,—from these paintings +(vivid as their images now are before, me) I would in vain endeavor to +educe more than a small portion which should lie within the compass of +merely written words. By the utter simplicity, by the nakedness of his +designs, he arrested and overawed attention. If ever mortal painted an +idea, that mortal was Roderick Usher. For me, at least, in the +circumstances then surrounding me, there arose out of the pure +abstractions which the hypochondriac contrived to throw, upon his +canvas, an intensity of intolerable awe, no shadow of which felt I ever +yet in the contemplation of the certainly glowing yet too concrete +reveries of Fuseli.[9] + +One of the phantasmagoric conceptions of my friend, partaking not so +rigidly of the spirit of abstraction may be shadowed forth, although +feebly, in words. A small picture presented the interior of an +immensely long and rectangular vault or tunnel, with low walls, smooth, +white, and without interruption or device. Certain accessory points of +the design served well to convey the idea that this excavation lay at +an exceeding depth below the surface of the earth. No outlet was +observed in any portion of its vast extent, and no torch or other +artificial source of light was discernible; yet a flood of intense rays +rolled throughout, and bathed the whole in a ghastly and inappropriate +splendor. + +I have just spoken of that morbid condition of the auditory nerve which +rendered all music intolerable to the sufferer, with the exception of +certain effects of stringed, instruments. It was, perhaps, the narrow +limits to which he thus confined himself upon the guitar, which gave +birth, in great measure, to the fantastic character of his +performances. But the fervid _facility_ of his _impromptus_ could not +be so accounted for. They must have been, and were, in the notes, as +well as in the words of his wild fantasias (for he not unfrequently +accompanied himself with rimed verbal improvisations), the result of +that intense mental collectedness and concentration to which I have +previously alluded as observable only in particular moments of the +highest artificial excitement. The words of one of these rhapsodies I +have easily remembered. I was, perhaps, the more forcibly impressed +with it, as he gave it, because, in the under or mystic current of its +meaning, I fancied that I perceived, and for the first time, a full +consciousness on the part of Usher, of the tottering of his lofty +reason upon her throne. The verses, which were entitled "The Haunted +Palace,"[10] ran very nearly, if not accurately, thus:— + +I + + + In the greenest of our valleys, + + By good angels tenanted, + + Once a fair and stately palace— + + Radiant palace—reared its head. + + In the monarch Thought's dominion— + + It stood there! + + Never seraph spread a pinion + + Over fabric half so fair. + +II + + + Banners yellow, glorious, golden, + + On its roof did float and flow; + + (This—all this—was in the olden + + Time long ago) + + And every gentle air that dallied, + + In that sweet day, + + Along the ramparts plumed and pallid, + + A wingèd odor went away. + +III + + + Wanderers in that happy valley + + Through two luminous windows saw + + Spirits moving musically + + To a lute's well-tunèd law, + + Round about a throne, where sitting + + (Porphyrogene!)[11] + + In state his glory well befitting, + + The ruler of the realm was seen. + +IV + + + And all with pearl and ruby glowing + + Was the fair palace door, + + Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing, + + And sparkling evermore, + + A troop of Echoes whose sweet duty + + Was but to sing, + + In voices of surpassing beauty, + + The wit and wisdom of their king. + +V + + + But evil things, in robes of sorrow, + + Assailed the monarch's high estate + + (Ah, let us mourn, for never morrow + + Shall dawn upon him, desolate!); + + And, round about his home, the glory + + That blushed and bloomed + + Is but a dim-remembered story + + Of the old time entombed. + +VI + + + And travelers now within that valley, + + Through the red-litten windows, see + + Vast forms that move fantastically + + To a discordant melody; + + While, like a rapid ghastly river, + + Through the pale door, + + A hideous throng rush out forever, + + And laugh—but smile no more. + +I well remember that suggestions arising from this ballad led us into a +train of thought wherein there became manifest an opinion of Usher's +which I mention not so much on account of its novelty (for other +men[12] have thought thus) as on account of the pertinacity with which +he maintained it. This opinion, in its general form, was that of the +sentience of all vegetable things. But, in his disordered fancy, the +idea had assumed a more daring character, and trespassed, under certain +conditions, upon the kingdom of inorganization. I lack words to express +the full extent or the earnest _abandon_ of his persuasion. The belief, +however, was connected (as I have previously hinted) with the gray +stones of the home of his forefathers. The conditions of the sentience +had been here, he imagined, fulfilled in the method of collocation of +these stones—in the order of their arrangement, as well as in that of +the many _fungi_ which overspread them, and of the decayed trees which +stood around—above all, in the long-undisturbed endurance of this +arrangement, and in its reduplication in the still waters of the tarn. +Its evidence—the evidence of the sentience—was to be seen, he said (and +I here started as he spoke), in the gradual yet certain condensation of +an atmosphere of their own about the waters and the walls. The result +was discoverable, he added, in that silent, yet importunate and +terrible influence which for centuries had molded the destinies of his +family, and which made _him_ what I now saw him—what he was. Such +opinions need no comment, and I will make none. + +Our books—the books which, for years, had formed no small portion of +the mental existence of the invalid—were, as might be supposed, in +strict keeping with this character of phantasm. We pored together over +such works as the _Ververt et Chartreuse_[13] of Gresset; the +_Belphegor_[14] of Machiavelli; the _Heaven and Hell_[15] of +Swedenborg; the _Subterranean Voyage of Nicholas Klimm_[16] by Holberg; +the _Chiromancy_[17] of Robert Flud, of Jean D'lndaginé, and of De la +Chambre[18]; the _Journey into the Blue Distance_ of Tieck[19]; and the +_City of the Sun_[20] of Campanella. One favorite volume was a small +octavo edition of the _Directorium Inquisitorium_[21] by the Dominican +Eymeric de Cironne; and there were passages in _Pomponius Mela_,[22] +about the old African Satyrs and Oegipans,[23] over which Usher would +sit dreaming for hours. His chief delight, however, was found in the +perusal of an exceedingly rare and curious book in quarto Gothic—the +manual of a forgotten church—the _Vigiliae Mortuorum secundum Chorum +Ecclesiae Maguntinae_.[24] + +I could not help thinking of the wild ritual of this work, and of its +probable influence upon the hypochondriac, when, one evening, having +informed me abruptly that the lady Madeline was no more, he stated his +intention of preserving her corpse for a fortnight (previously to its +final interment) in one of the numerous vaults within the main walls of +the building. The worldly reason, however, assigned for this singular +proceeding, was one which I did not feel at liberty to dispute. The +brother had been led to his resolution, so he told me, by consideration +of the unusual character of the malady of the deceased, of certain +obtrusive and eager inquiries on the part of her medical men, and of +the remote and exposed situation of the burial ground of the family, I +will not deny that when I called to mind the sinister countenance of +the person whom I met upon the staircase, on the day of my arrival at +the house, I had no desire to oppose what I regarded as at best but a +harmless, and by no means an unnatural precaution. + +At the request of Usher, I personally aided him in the arrangements for +the temporary entombment. The body having been encoffined, we two alone +bore it to its rest. The vault in which we placed it (and which had +been so long unopened that our torches, half smothered in its +oppressive atmosphere, gave us little opportunity for investigation) +was small, damp, and entirely without means of admission for light; +lying, at great depth, immediately beneath that portion of the building +in which was my own sleeping apartment. It had been used, apparently, +in remote feudal times, for the worst purposes of a donjon-keep, and in +later days, as a place of deposit for powder, or some other highly +combustible substance, as a portion of its floor, and the whole +interior of a long archway through which we reached it, were carefully +sheathed with copper. The door, of massive iron, had been also +similarly protected. Its immense weight caused an unusually sharp +grating sound as it moved upon its hinges. + +Having deposited our mournful burden upon tressels within this region +of horror, we partially turned aside the yet unscrewed lid of the +coffin, and looked upon the face of the tenant. A striking similitude +between the brother and sister now first arrested my attention; and +Usher, divining, perhaps, my thoughts, murmured out some few words from +which I learned that the deceased and himself had been twins, and that +sympathies of a scarcely intelligible nature had always existed between +them. Our glances, however, rested not long upon the dead—for we could +not regard her unawed. The disease which had thus entombed the lady in +the maturity of youth, had left, as usual in all maladies of a strictly +cataleptical character, the mockery of a faint blush upon the bosom and +the face, and that suspiciously lingering smile upon the lip which is +so terrible in death. We replaced and screwed down the lid, and having +secured the door of iron, made our way, with toil, into the scarcely +less gloomy apartments of the upper portion of the house. + +And now, some days of bitter grief having elapsed, an observable change +came over the features of the mental disorder of my friend. His +ordinary manner had vanished. His ordinary occupations were neglected +or forgotten. He roamed from chamber to chamber with hurried, unequal, +and objectless step. The pallor of his countenance had assumed, if +possible, a more ghastly line—but the luminousness of his eye had +utterly gone out. The once occasional huskiness of his tone was heard +no more; and a tremulous quaver, as if of extreme terror, habitually +characterized his utterance. There were times, indeed, when I thought +his unceasingly agitated mind was laboring with some oppressive secret, +to divulge which he struggled for the necessary courage. At times, +again, I was obliged to resolve all into the mere inexplicable vagaries +of madness; for I beheld him gazing upon vacancy for long hours, in an +attitude of the profoundest attention, as if listening to some +imaginary sound. It was no wonder that his condition terrified—that it +infected me. I felt creeping upon me, by slow yet certain degrees, the +wild influence of his own fantastic yet impressive superstitions. + +It was, especially, upon retiring to bed late in the night of the +seventh or eighth day after the placing of the lady Madeline within the +donjon, that I experienced the full power of such feelings. Sleep came +not near my couch, while the hours waned and waned away, I struggled to +reason off the nervousness which had dominion over me. I endeavored to +believe that much, if not all of what I felt, was due to the +bewildering influence of the gloomy furniture of the room—of the dark +and tattered draperies, which, tortured into motion by the breath of a +rising tempest, swayed fitfully to and fro upon the walls, and rustled +uneasily about the decorations of the bed. But my efforts were +fruitless. An irrepressible tremor gradually pervaded my frame; and, at +length, there sat upon my very heart an incubus of utterly causeless +alarm. Shaking this off with a gasp and a struggle, I uplifted myself +upon the pillows, and peering earnestly within the intense darkness of +the chamber, hearkened—I know not why, except that an instinctive +spirit prompted me—to certain low and indefinite sounds which came, +through the pauses of the storm, at long intervals, I knew not whence. +Overpowered by an intense sentiment of horror, unaccountable yet +unendurable, I threw on my clothes with haste (for I felt that I should +sleep no more during the night), and endeavored to arouse myself from +the pitiable condition into which I had fallen, by pacing rapidly to +and fro through the apartment. + +I had taken but few turns in this manner, when a light step on an +adjoining staircase arrested my attention. I presently recognized it as +that of Usher. In an instant afterward he rapped, with a gentle touch, +at my door, and entered, bearing a lamp. His countenance was, as usual, +cadaverously wan—but, moreover, there was a species of mad hilarity in +his eyes—and evidently restrained hysteria in his whole demeanor. His +air appalled me—but anything was preferable to the solitude which I had +so long endured, and I even welcomed his presence as a relief. + +"And you have not seen it?" he said abruptly, after having stared about +him for some moments in silence—"you have not then seen it?—but stay! +you shall." Thus speaking, and having carefully shaded his lamp, he +hurried to one of the casements, and threw it freely open to the storm. + +The impetuous fury of the entering gust nearly lifted us from our feet. +It was, indeed, a tempestuous yet sternly beautiful night, and one +wildly singular in its terror and its beauty. A whirlwind had +apparently collected its force in our vicinity; for there were frequent +and violent alterations in the direction of the wind; and the exceeding +density of the clouds (which hung so low as to press upon the turrets +of the house) did not prevent our perceiving the lifelike velocity with +which they flew careering from all points against each other, without +passing away into the distance. I say that even their exceeding density +did not prevent our perceiving this—yet we had no glimpse of the moon +or stars—nor was there any flashing forth of the lightning. But the +under surfaces of the huge masses of agitated vapor, as well as all +terrestrial objects immediately around us, were glowing in the +unnatural light of a faintly luminous and distinctly visible gaseous +exhalation which hung about and enshrouded the mansion. + +"You must not—you shall not behold this!" said I, shudderingly, to +Usher, as I led him, with a gentle violence, from the window to a seat. +"These appearances, which bewilder you, are merely electrical phenomena +not uncommon—or it may be that they have their ghastly origin in the +rank miasma of the tarn. Let us close this casement—the air is chilling +and dangerous to your frame. Here is one of your favorite romances. I +will read and you shall listen; and so we will pass away this terrible +night together." + +The antique volume which I had taken up was the _Mad Trist_ of Sir +Launcelot Canning[25]; but I had called it a favorite of Usher's more +in sad jest than in earnest; for, in truth, there is little in its +uncouth and unimaginative prolixity which could have had interest for +the lofty and spiritual ideality of my friend. It was, however, the +only book immediately at hand; and I indulged a vague hope that the +excitement which now agitated the hypochondriac, might find relief (for +the history of mental disorder is full of similar anomalies) even in +the extremeness of the folly which I should read. Could I have judged, +indeed, by the wild, overstrained air of vivacity with which he +hearkened, or apparently hearkened, to the words of the tale, I might +well have congratulated myself upon the success of my design. + +I had arrived at that well-known portion of the story where Ethelred, +the hero of the "Trist," having sought in vain for peaceable admission +into the dwelling of the hermit, proceeds to make good an entrance by +force. Here, it will be remembered, the words of the narrative run +thus:— + +"And Ethelred, who was by nature of a doughty heart, and who was now +mighty withal, on account of the powerfulness of the wine which he had +drunken, waited no longer to hold parley with the hermit, who, in +sooth, was of an obstinate and maliceful turn; but, feeling the rain +upon his shoulders, and fearing the rising of the tempest, uplifted his +mace outright, and, with blows, made quickly room in the plankings of +the door for his gauntleted hand; and now pulling therewith sturdily, +he so cracked, and ripped, and tore all asunder, that the noise of the +dry and hollow-sounding wood alarummed[26] and reverberated throughout +the forest." + +At the termination of this sentence I started, and for a moment paused; +for it appeared to me (although I at once concluded that my excited +fancy had deceived me)—it appeared to me that, from some very remote +portion of the mansion, there came, indistinctly, to my ears what might +have been, in its exact similarity of character, the echo (but a +stifled and dull one certainly) of the very cracking and ripping sound +which Sir Launcelot had so particularly described. It was, beyond +doubt, the coincidence alone which had arrested my attention; for, amid +the rattling of the sashes of the casements, and the ordinary +commingled noises of the still increasing storm, the sound, in itself, +had nothing, surely, which should have interested or disturbed, me. I +continued the story:— + +"But the good champion Ethelred, now entering within the door, was sore +enraged and amazed to perceive no signal of the maliceful hermit; but, +in the stead thereof, a dragon of a scaly and prodigious demeanor, and +of a fiery tongue, which sate in guard before a palace of gold, with a +floor of silver; and upon the wall there hung a shield of shining brass +with this legend enwritten:— + + Who entereth herein, a conqueror hath been; + + Who slayeth the dragon, the shield he shall win. + +"And Ethelred uplifted his mace, and struck upon the head of the +dragon, which fell before him, and gave up his pesty breath, with a +shriek so horrid and harsh, and withal so piercing, that Ethelred had +fain[27] to close his ears with his hands against the dreadful noise of +it, the like whereof was never before heard." + +Here again I paused abruptly, and now with a feeling of wild +amazement—for there could be no doubt whatever that, in this instance, +I did actually hear (although from what direction it proceeded I found +it impossible to say) a low and apparently distant, but harsh, +protracted, and most unusual screaming or grating sound—the exact +counterpart of what my fancy had already conjured up for the dragon's +unnatural shriek as described by the romancer. + +Oppressed, as I certainly was, upon the occurrence of this second and +most extraordinary coincidence, by a thousand conflicting sensations, +in which wonder and extreme terror were predominant, I still retained +sufficient presence of mind to avoid exciting, by any observation, the +sensitive nervousness of my companion. I was by no means certain that +he had noticed the sounds in question; although, assuredly, a strange +alteration had, during the last few minutes, taken place in his +demeanor. From a position fronting my own, he had gradually brought +round his chair, so as to sit with his face to the door of the chamber; +and thus I could but partially perceive his features, although I saw +that his lips trembled as if he were murmuring inaudibly. His head had +dropped upon his breast—yet I knew that he was not asleep, from the +wide and rigid opening of the eye as I caught a glance of it in +profile. The motion of his body, too, was at variance with this +idea—for he rocked from side to side with a gentle yet constant and +uniform sway. Having rapidly taken notice of all this, I resumed the +narrative of Sir Launcelot, which thus proceeded:— + +"And now the champion, having escaped from the terrible fury of the +dragon, bethinking himself of the brazen shield, and of the breaking up +of the enchantment which was upon it, removed the carcass from out of +the way before him, and approached valorously over the silver pavement +of the castle to where the shield was upon the wall; which in sooth +tarried not for his full coming, but fell down at his feet upon the +silver floor, with a mighty, great and terrible ringing sound." + +No sooner had these syllables passed my lips, than—as if a shield of +brass had indeed, at the moment, fallen heavily upon a floor of +silver—I became aware of a distinct, hollow, metallic and clangorous, +yet apparently muffled reverberation. Completely unnerved, I leaped to +my feet; but the measured rocking movement of Usher was undisturbed. I +rushed to the chair in which he sat. His eyes were bent fixedly before +him, and throughout his whole countenance there reigned a stony +rigidity. But, as I placed my hand upon his shoulder, there came a +strong shudder over his whole person; a sickly smile quivered about his +lips; and I saw that he spoke in a low, hurried, and gibbering murmur, +as if unconscious of my presence. Bending closely over him, I at length +drank in the hideous import of his words. + +"Not hear it?—yes, I hear it, and _have_ heard it. Long—long—long—many +minutes, many hours, many days, have I heard it—yet I dared not—oh, +pity me, miserable wretch that I am!—I dared not—I _dared_ not speak! +_We have put her living in the tomb!_ Said I not that my senses were +acute? I _now_ tell you that I heard her first feeble movements in the +hollow coffin. I heard them—many, many days ago—yet I dared not—_I +dared not speak!_ And now—to-night—Ethelred—ha! ha!—-the breaking of +the hermit's door, and the death-cry of the dragon, and the clangor of +the shield!—say, rather, the rending of her coffin, and the grating of +the iron hinges of her prison, and her struggles within the coppered +archway of the vault! Oh, whither shall I fly? Will she not be here +anon? Is she not hurrying to upbraid me for my haste? Have I not heard +her footstep on the stair? Do I not distinguish that heavy and horrible +beating of her heart? Madman!"—here he sprang furiously to his feet, +and shrieked out his syllables, as if in the effort he were giving up +his soul—"_Madman! I tell you that she now stands without the door!_" + +As if in the superhuman energy of his utterance there had been found +the potency of a spell—the huge antique panels to which the speaker +pointed threw slowly back, upon the instant, their ponderous and ebony +jaws. It was the work of the rushing gust—but then without those doors +there _did_ stand the lofty and enshrouded figure of the lady Madeline +of Usher. There was blood upon her white robes, and the evidence of +some bitter struggle upon every portion of her emaciated frame. For a +moment she remained trembling and reeling to and fro upon the +threshold—then, with a low, moaning cry, fell heavily inward upon the +person of her brother, and in her violent and now final death-agonies, +bore him to the floor a corpse, and a victim to the terrors he had +anticipated. + +From that chamber, and from that mansion, I fled aghast. The storm was +still abroad in all its wrath as I found myself crossing the old +causeway. Suddenly there shot along the path a wild light, and I turned +to see whence a gleam so unusual could have issued; for the vast house +and its shadows were alone behind me. The radiance was that of the +full, setting, and blood-red moon, which now shone vividly through that +once barely discernible fissure, of which I have before spoken as +extending from the roof of the building, in a zigzag direction, to the +base. While I gazed, this fissure rapidly widened—there came a fierce +breath of the whirlwind—the entire orb of the satellite burst at once +upon my sight—my brain reeled as I saw the mighty walls rushing +asunder—there was a long tumultuous shouting sound like the voice of a +thousand waters—and the deep and dank tarn at my feet closed sullenly +and silently over the fragments of the "_House of Usher_." + +NOTES + +[1] _The Fall of the House of Usher_ was written in 1839 and published +at the end of the same year in his Tales of the Grotesque and of the +Arabesque. + +[2] 70: Motto de Béranger. Popular French lyric poet (1780-1857). "His +heart is a suspended lute; as soon as it is touched it resounds." + +[3] 71:23 tarn. A small mountain lake. + +[4] 76:7 ennuyé. Mentally wearied or bored. + +[5] 78:11 bounden. An archaic word. + +[6] 79:19 Dread. Reading of the first edition, "Her figure, her air, +her features,—all, in their very minutest development, were those—were +identically (I can use no other sufficient term), were identically +those of the Roderick Usher who sat beside me. A feeling of stupor," +etc. + +[7] 80:16 Improvisations. Extemporaneous composition of poetry or +music. + +[8] 81:4 von Weber. The celebrated German composer (1786-1826). + +[9] 81:20 Fuseli. An artist and professor of painting at the Royal +Academy in London (1741-1825). + +[10] 82:24 "The Haunted Palace." First published in the _Baltimore +Museum_ for April, 1839. + +[11] 83:18 Porphyrogene. Of royal birth. + +[12] 84:16 for other men. Watson, Dr. Percival, and especially the +Bishop of Llandaff. See "Chemical Essays," Vol. V. + +[13] 85:16 Ververt et Chartreuse. Two poems by Jean Baptiste Cresset +(1709-1777). + +[Footenote 14] 85:17 Belphegor. Satire on Marriage by Machiavelli +(1469-1527). + +[15] 85:17 Heaven and Hell. Extracts from "Arcana Coelestia" by +Swedenborg (1688-1772). + +[16] 85:18 Subterranean Voyage of Nicholas Klimm. A celebrated poem by +Ludwig Holberg (1684-1754). + +[17] 85:19 Chiromancy. Palmistry applied to the future. Poe refers +rather to physiognomy. The book was written by the English mystic, +Robert Fludd (1574-1637). + +[18] 85:19 Jean d'Indaginé and De la Chambre. Two continental writers +of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries respectively. + +[19] 85:21 Tieck. A great German romanticist (1773-1853). + +[20] 85:21 City of the Sun. A sketch of an ideal state by Campanella +(1568-1639). + +[21] 85:23 Directorium Inquisitorium. A detailed account of the methods +of the Inquisition by Cironne, inquisitor-general for Castile, in 1356. + +[22] 85:24 Pomponius Mela. Spanish geographer in the first century A.D. +Author of "De Chorographia," the earliest extant account of the +geography of the ancient world. + +[23] 85:25 Oegipans. An epithet applied to Pan. + +[24] 85:30 Vigiliae Mortuorum. No such book is known. + +[25] 90:30 Mad Trist. No such book is known. + +[26] 91:29 alarummed. Alarmed. + +[27] 92:25 had fain. In the sense of was glad. + +BIOGRAPHY + +Edgar Allan Poe was born in Boston, January 19, 1809. His parents, who +were actors, died before their son was three years old. Mr. Allan, a +wealthy Richmond merchant, adopted the child and gave him a splendid +home. How scantily Poe appreciated and improved the advantages of this +kindness he himself confesses in a letter to Lowell in 1844. "I have +been too deeply conscious of the mutability and evanescence of temporal +things to give any continuous effort to anything—to be consistent in +anything. My life has been _whim_—impulse—passion—a longing for +solitude—a scorn of all things present in an earnest desire for the +future." He was a dreamer who had a fair chance to be happy, but he +flung the opportunity away. He was a spoiled child who remained +ignorant of life even unto his death. + +He entered the University of Virginia in 1826, where his conduct was so +bad that he was, after a year, removed from the college. This action +broke the strong friendship Mr. Allan had long held for his adopted +son. Poe, urged by a hot temper or possibly by a remorse for his +actions, ran away and enlisted in the regular army. In 1829 Mr. Allan +became partially reconciled with Poe, and again came to his assistance. +In 1830 Poe entered West Point, but was there only a short time when he +was dismissed for wilful neglect of duty. + +Following this dismissal Poe went to Baltimore, where he did hack work +for newspapers. This was the beginning of a process of writing that has +brought him high rank and an imperishable honor. His narrative is +clear, compressed, and powerful, and throughout his writings choice +symbols abound. He was fond of themes of death, insanity, and terror. +The wonder of it all is that this struggling, poverty-stricken +craftsman, irregular in his habits of living, using only negative life +and shadowy abstractions, should, from out his disordered fancies, +weave stories and poems of such undying beauty and force. + +Poe married his thirteen-year-old cousin, Virginia Clemm. Her health +was always delicate and her death confirmed Poe's tendency toward +dissipation. His life was filled with dire poverty and a hard struggle +for a livelihood. His home relations were happy. The last years of his +life were spent at Fordham, a suburb of New York. He died in a +Baltimore hospital, October 7, 1849. + +BIOGRAPHICAL REFERENCES + +_Introduction to American Literature_, Brander Matthews. + +_Studies in American Literature_, Charles Noble. + +_Introduction to American Literature_, F.V.N. Painter. + +_Life of Poe_, Richard Henry Stoddard. + +_Edgar Allan Poe_, G.E. Woodberry. + +_Makers of English Fiction_, W.J. Dawson. + +"Art of Poe, _Independent_, 66: 157-8. January 21, 1909. + +"Dual Personality," _Current Literature_, 43: 287-8. + +CRITICISMS + +Some critics have maintained that Poe is our only original genius in +American Literature. Lowell wrote in his _Fable for Critics_:— + +"There comes Poe with his raven, like Barnaby Rudge, Three-fifths of +him genius, and two-fifths sheer fudge." + +Whatever judgments the various critics may give of Poe and his +writings, they must all agree that he is original. He is a clever +writer in a limited field. His writings have a glow and burnish that +have their origin in his fondness for sensations, color, and vividness +of details. He loves mystery and terror,—not the fancies and fears of a +child, but overwrought nerves. His material is unreal, and remote from +ordinary life. His characters are abnormal, and the world they live in +is exceptional. He is inventive, original in arranging his material, +and shallow but keen in his thinking. + +He believed that art and life have little in common, and in his +writings seemed to be unmoved by friendship, loyalty, patriotism, +courage, self-sacrifice or any of the great positive attributes of life +that make living worth while. His writings lack the human touch, +tenderness, and the buoyancy of sympathy. He is an artist who does his +work with a clear-cut, hard finish. His choice of words, vivid +pictures, and clearly evolved plots make his writings excellent studies +for any one who wishes to develop literary appreciation and to learn to +write. + +GENERAL REFERENCES + +_Studies and Appreciations_, L.E. Gates. + +_American Prose Masters_, William Crary Brownwell. + +_The Short Story in English_, Henry Seidel Canby. + +_Edgar Poe_, R.H. Button. + +_Inquiries and Opinions_, Brander Matthews. + +"Life of Edgar Allan Poe," _Nation_, 89: 100-110. + +"Weird Genius," _Cosmopolitan_, 46:243-252. + +COLLATERAL READINGS + +_Ligeia_, Edgar Allan Poe. + +_The Cask of Amontillado_, Edgar Allan Poe. + +_The Assignation_, Edgar Allan Poe. + +_Ms. Pound in Bottle_, Edgar Allan Poe. + +_The Black Cat_, Edgar Allan Poe. + +_Berenice_, Edgar Allan Poe. + +_The Tell-Tale Heart_, Edgar Allan Poe. + +_The White Old Maid_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_Moonlight_ ("Odd Number"), Guy de Maupassant. + +_A Journey_, Edith Wharton. + +_The Brushwood Boy_, Rudyard Kipling. + +_At the Pit's Mouth_, Rudyard Kipling. + + + + +THE GOLD-BUG[1] + + +_By Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849)_ + + + What ho! what ho! this fellow is dancing mad! + + He hath been bitten by the Tarantula. + + —_All in the Wrong_.[2] + +Many years ago I contracted an intimacy with a Mr. William Legrand. He +was of an ancient Huguenot[3] family, and had once been wealthy; but a +series of misfortunes had reduced him to want. To avoid the +mortification consequent upon his disasters, he left New Orleans, the +city of his forefathers, and took up his residence at Sullivan's +Island, near Charleston, South Carolina. + +This island is a very singular one. It consists of little else than the +sea sand, and is about three miles long. Its breadth at no point +exceeds a quarter of a mile. It is separated from the mainland by a +scarcely perceptible creek, oozing its way through a wilderness of +reeds and slime, a favorite resort of the marsh-hen. The vegetation, as +might be supposed, is scant, or at least dwarfish. No trees of any +magnitude are to be seen. Near the western extremity, where Fort +Moultrie[4] stands, and where are some miserable frame buildings, +tenanted, during summer, by the fugitives from Charleston dust and +fever, may be found, indeed, the bristly palmetto; but the whole +island, with the exception of this western point, and a line of hard, +white beach on the seacoast, is covered with a dense undergrowth of the +sweet myrtle, so much prized by the horticulturists of England. The +shrub here often attains the height of fifteen or twenty feet, and +forms an almost impenetrable coppice, burthening the air with its +fragrance. + +In the utmost recesses of this coppice, not far from the eastern or +more remote end of the island, Legrand had built himself a small hut, +which he occupied when I first, by mere accident, made his +acquaintance. This soon ripened into friendship, for there was much in +the recluse to excite interest and esteem. I found him well educated, +with unusual powers of mind, but infected with misanthropy, and subject +to perverse moods of alternate enthusiasm and melancholy. He had with +him many books, but rarely employed them. His chief amusements were +gunning and fishing, or sauntering along the beach and through the +myrtles, in quest of shells or entomological specimens—his collection +of the latter might have been envied by a Swammerdam.[5] In these +excursions he was usually accompanied by an old negro, called Jupiter, +who had been manumitted[6] before the reverses of the family, but who +could be induced, neither by threats nor by promises, to abandon what +he considered his right of attendance upon the footsteps of his young +"Massa Will." It is not improbable that the relatives of Legrand, +conceiving him to be somewhat unsettled in intellect, had contrived to +instil this obstinacy into Jupiter, with a view to the supervision and +guardianship of the wanderer. + +The winters in the latitude of Sullivan's Island are seldom very +severe, and in the fall of the year it is a rare event indeed when a +fire is considered necessary. About the middle of October, 18—, there +occurred, however, a day of remarkable chilliness. Just before sunset I +scrambled my way through the evergreens to the hut of my friend, whom I +had not visited for several weeks—my residence being at that time in +Charleston, a distance of nine miles from the island, while the +facilities of passage and re-passage were very far behind those of the +present day. Upon reaching the hut I rapped, as was my custom, and +getting no reply, sought for the key where I knew it was secreted, +unlocked the door, and went in. A fine fire was blazing upon the +hearth. It was a novelty, and by no means an ungrateful one. I threw +off an over-coat, took an armchair by the crackling logs, and awaited +patiently the arrival of my hosts. + +Soon after dark they arrived, and gave me a most cordial welcome. +Jupiter, grinning from ear to ear, bustled about to prepare some +marsh-hens for supper. Legrand was in one of his fits—how else shall I +term them?—of enthusiasm. He had found an unknown bivalve, forming a +new genus, and, more than this, he had hunted down and secured, with +Jupiter's assistance, a _scarabaeus_[7] which he believed to be totally +new, but in respect to which he wished to have my opinion on the +morrow. + +"And why not to-night?" I asked, rubbing my hands over the blaze, and +wishing the whole tribe of _scarabaei_ at the devil. + +"Ah, if I had only known you were here!" said Legrand, "but it's so +long since I saw you; and how could I foresee that you would pay me a +visit this very night of all others? As I was coming home I met +Lieutenant G——, from the fort, and, very foolishly, I lent him the bug; +so it will be impossible for you to see it until the morning. Stay here +to-night, and I will send Jup down for it at sunrise. It is the +loveliest thing in creation!" + +"What!—sunrise?" + +"Nonsense! no!—the bug. It is of a brilliant gold color—about the size +of a large hickory-nut—with two jet-black spots near one extremity of +the back, and another, somewhat longer, at the other. The _antennae[8]_ +are—" + +"Dey ain't _no_ tin in him, Massa Will, I keep a tellin' on you," here +interrupted Jupiter; "de bug is a goolebug, solid, ebery bit of him, +inside and all, 'sep him wing—neber feel half so hebby a bug in my +life." + +"Well, suppose it is, Jup," replied Legrand, somewhat more earnestly, +it seemed to me, than the case demanded; "is that any reason for your +letting the birds burn? The color"—here he turned to me—"is really +almost enough to warrant Jupiter's idea. You never saw a more brilliant +metallic lustre than the scales emit—but of this you cannot judge till +to-morrow. In the meantime I can give you some idea of the shape." +Saying this, he seated himself at a small table, on which were a pen +and ink, but no paper. He looked for some in a drawer, but found none. + +"Never mind," said he at length, "this will answer;" and he drew from +his waistcoat pocket a scrap of what I took to be very dirty foolscap, +and made upon it a rough drawing with the pen. While he did this I +retained my seat by the fire, for I was still chilly. When the design +was complete, he handed it to me without rising. As I received, it, a +loud growl was heard, succeeded by a scratching at the door. Jupiter +opened it, and a large Newfoundland, belonging to Legrand, rushed in, +leaped upon my shoulders, and loaded me with caresses; for I had shown +him much attention during previous visits. When his gambols were over, +I looked at the paper, and, to speak the truth, found myself not a +little puzzled at what my friend had depicted. + +"Well!" I said, after contemplating it for some minutes, "this _is_ a +strange _scarabaeus_, I must confess: new to me: never saw anything +like it before—unless it was a skull, or a death's-head—which, it more +nearly resembles than, anything else that has come under _my_ +observation." + +"A death's-head!" echoed Legrand. "Oh—yes—well, it has something of +that appearance upon paper, no doubt. The two upper black spots look +like eyes, eh? and the longer one at the bottom like a mouth—and then +the shape of the whole is oval." + +"Perhaps so," said I; "but, Legrand, I fear you are no artist. I must +wait until I see the beetle itself, if I am to form any idea of its +personal appearance." + +"Well, I don't know," said he, a little nettled, "I draw +tolerably—_should_ do it at least—have had good masters, and flatter +myself that I am not quite a blockhead." + +"But, my dear fellow, you are joking then," said I; "this is a very +passable _skull_—indeed, I may say that it is a very _excellent_ skull, +according to the vulgar notions about such specimens of physiology—and +your _scarabaeus_ must be the queerest _scarabaeus_ in the world if it +resembles it. Why, we may get up a very thrilling bit of superstition +upon this hint. I presume, you will call the bug _scarabaeus caput +hominis_,[9] or something of that kind—there are many similar titles in +the natural histories. But where are the _antennae_ you spoke of?" + +"The _antennae_!" said Legrand, who seemed to be getting unaccountably +warm upon the subject; "I am sure you must see the _antennae_. I made +them as distinct as they are in the original insect, and I presume that +is sufficient." + +"Well, well," I said, "perhaps you have—still I don't see them;" and I +handed him the paper without additional remark, not wishing to ruffle +his temper; but I was much surprised at the turn affairs had taken; his +ill-humor puzzled me—and, as for the drawing of the beetle, there were +positively _no antennae_ visible, and the whole _did_ bear a very close +resemblance to the ordinary cuts of a death's-head. + +He received the paper very peevishly, and was about to crumple it, +apparently to throw it in the fire, when a casual glance at the design +seemed suddenly to rivet his attention. In an instant his face grew +violently red—in another as excessively pale. For some minutes he +continued to scrutinize the drawing minutely where he sat. At length he +arose, took a candle from the table, and proceeded to seat himself upon +a sea-chest in the farthest corner of the room. Here again he made an +anxious examination of the paper, turning it in all directions. He said +nothing, however, and his conduct greatly astonished me; yet I thought +it prudent not to exacerbate the growing moodiness of his temper by any +comment. Presently he took from, his coat pocket a wallet, placed the +paper carefully in it, and deposited both in a writing-desk, which he +locked. He now grew more composed in his demeanor; but his original air +of enthusiasm had quite disappeared. Yet he seemed not so much sulky as +abstracted. As the evening wore away he became more and more absorbed +in reverie, from which no sallies of mine could arouse him. It had been +my intention to pass the night at the hut, as I had frequently done +before, but, seeing my host in this mood, I deemed it proper to take +leave. He did not press me to remain, but, as I departed, he shook my +hand with even more than his usual cordiality. + +It was about a month after this (and during the interval I had seen +nothing of Legrand) when I received a visit, at Charleston, from his +man Jupiter. I had never seen the good old negro look so dispirited, +and I feared that some serious disaster had befallen my friend. + +"Well, Jup," said I, "what is the matter now?—how is your master?" + +"Why, to speak de troof, massa, him not so berry well as mought be." + +"Not well! I am truly sorry to hear it. What does he complain of?" + +"Dar! dat's it!—him nebber 'plain of notin'—but him berry sick for all +dat." + +"_Very_ sick, Jupiter!—why didn't you say so at once? Is he confined to +bed?" + +"No, dat he ain't!—he ain't 'find nowhar—dat's just whar de shoe +pinch—my mind is got to be berry hebby 'bout poor Massa Will." + +"Jupiter, I should like to understand what it is you are talking about. +You say your master is sick. Hasn't he told you what ails him?" + +"Why, massa, 'tain't worf while for to git mad 'bout de matter—Massa +Will say noffin' at all ain't de matter wid him—but den what make him +go about looking dis here way, wid he head down and he soldiers up, and +as white as a gose? And den he keep a syphon all de time—" + +"Keeps a what, Jupiter?" + +"Keeps a syphon wid de figgurs on de slate—de queerest figgurs I ebber +did see. Ise gittin' to be skeered I tell you. Hab for to keep mighty +tight eye pon him noovers.[10] Todder day he gib me slip fore de sun +up, and was gone de whole ob de blessed day. I had a big stick ready +cut for to gib him d——d good beating when he did come—but Ise sich a +fool dat I hadn't de heart after all—he look so berry poorly." + +"Eh?—what? Ah, yes!—upon the whole, I think you had better not be too +severe with the poor fellow—don't flog him, Jupiter, he can't very well +stand it—but can you form an idea of what has occasioned this illness, +or rather this change of conduct? Has anything unpleasant happened +since I saw you?" + +"No, massa, dey ain't bin noffin' onpleasant _since_ den—'twas _'fore_ +den, I'm feared—'twas de berry day you was dare."' + +"How? what do you mean?" + +"Why, massa, I mean de bug—dare now." + +"The _what?_" + +"De bug—I'm berry sartain dat Massa Will bin bit somewhere 'bout de +head by dat goole-bug." + +"And what cause have you, Jupiter, for such a supposition?" + +"Claws enuff, massa, and mouff, too. I nebber did see sich a d——d +bug—he kick and he bite ebery ting what cum near him. Massa Will cotch +him fuss, but had for to let him go 'gin mighty quick, I tell you—den +was de time he must ha' got de bite. I didn't like de look ob de bug +mouff, myself, nohow, so I wouldn't take hold ob him wid my finger, but +I cotch him wid a piece ob paper dat I found. I wrap him up in de paper +and stuff piece ob it in he mouff—dat was de way." + +"And you think, then, that your master was really bitten by the beetle, +and that the bite made him sick?" "I don't t'ink noffin' 'bout it—I +nose it. What make him dream 'bout de goole so much, if 'tain't cause +he bit by de goole-bug? Ise heerd 'bout dem goole-bugs 'fore dis." + +"But how do you know he dreams about gold?" + +"How I know? why, 'cause he talk about it in he sleep—dat's how I +nose." + +"Well, Jup, perhaps you are right; but to what fortunate circumstances +am I to attribute the honor of a visit from you to-day?" + +"What de matter, massa?" + +"Did you bring any message from Mr. Legrand?" + +"No, massa, I bring dis here 'pissel;" and here Jupiter handed me a +note, which ran thus: + +My dear ———: + +Why have I not seen you for so long a time? I hope you have not been so +foolish as to take offence at any little _brusquerie_[11] of mine; but +no, that is improbable. + +Since I saw you I have had great cause for anxiety. I have something to +tell you, yet scarcely know how to tell it, or whether I should tell it +at all. + +I have not been quite well for some days past, and poor old Jup annoys +me, almost beyond endurance, by his well-meant attentions. Would you +believe it?—he had prepared a huge stick, the other day, with which to +chastise me for giving him the slip, and spending the day, _solus_, +among the hills on the mainland. I verily believe that my ill looks +alone saved me a flogging. + +I have made no addition to my cabinet since we met. + +If you can, in any way, make it convenient, come over with Jupiter. +_Do_ come. I wish to see you _to-night_, upon business of importance. I +assure you that it is of the _highest_ importance. + +Ever yours, + +William Legrand. + +There was something in the tone of this note which gave me great +uneasiness. Its whole style differed materially from that of Legrand. +What could he be dreaming of? What new crotchet possessed his excitable +brain? What "business of the highest importance" could _he_ possibly +have to transact? Jupiter's account of him boded no good. I dreaded +lest the continued pressure of misfortune had, at length, fairly +unsettled the reason of my friend. Without a moment's hesitation, +therefore, I prepared to accompany the negro. + +Upon reaching the wharf, I noticed a scythe and three spades, all +apparently new, lying in the bottom of the boat in which we were to +embark. + +"What is the meaning of all this, Jup?" I inquired. + +"Him syfe, massa, and spade." + +"Very true; but what are they doing here?" + +"Him de syfe and de spade what Massa Will 'sis' 'pon my buying for him +in de town, and de debbil's own lot of money I had to gib for 'em." + +"But what, in the name of all that is mysterious, is your 'Massa Will' +going to do with scythes and spades?" + +"Dat's more dan _I_ know, and debbil take me if I don't b'lieve 'tis +more dan he know, too. But it's all come ob de bug." + +Finding that no satisfaction was to be obtained of Jupiter, whose whole +intellect seemed to be absorbed by "de bug," I now stepped into the +boat and made sail. With a fair and strong breeze we soon ran into the +little cove to the northward of Fort Moultrie, and a walk of some two +miles brought us to the hut. It was about three in the afternoon when +we arrived. Legrand had been awaiting us in eager expectation. He +grasped my hand with a nervous _empressement_[12] which alarmed me and +strengthened the suspicions already entertained. His countenance was +pale even to ghastliness, and his deep-set eyes glared with unnatural +lustre. After some inquiries respecting his health, I asked him, not +knowing what better to say, if he had yet obtained the _scarabaeus_ +from Lieutenant G——. + +"Oh, yes," he replied, coloring violently, "I got it from him the next +morning. Nothing could tempt me to part with that _scarabaeus_. Do you +know that Jupiter is quite right about it!" + +"In what way?" I asked, with a sad foreboding at heart. + +"In supposing it to be a bug of _real gold_." He said this with an air +of profound seriousness, and I felt inexpressibly shocked. + +"This bug is to make my fortune," he continued, with a triumphant +smile, and reinstate me in my family possessions. Is it any wonder, +then, that I prize it? Since Fortune has thought fit to bestow it upon +me, I have only to use it properly and I shall arrive at the gold of +which it is the index. Jupiter, bring me that _scarabaeus_!" + +"What! de bug, massa? I'd rudder not go fer trubble dat bug—you mus' +git him for your own self." Hereupon Legrand arose, with a grave and +stately air, and brought me the beetle from a glass case in which it +was enclosed. It was a beautiful _scarabaeus_, and, at that time, +unknown to naturalists—of course a great prize in a scientific point of +view. There were two round black spots near one extremity of the back, +and a long one near the other. The scales were exceedingly hard and +glossy, with all the appearance of burnished gold. The weight of the +insect was very remarkable, and, taking all things into consideration, +I could hardly blame Jupiter for his opinion respecting it; but what to +make of Legrand's agreement with that opinion, I could not, for the +life of me, tell. + +"I sent for you," said he, in a grandiloquent tone when I had completed +my examination of the beetle, "I sent for you, that I might have your +counsel and assistance in furthering the views of Fate and of the bug"— + +"My dear Legrand," I cried, interrupting him, "you are certainly +unwell, and had better use some little precautions. You shall go to +bed, and I will remain with you a few days, until you get over this. +You are feverish and"— + +"Feel my pulse," said he. + +I felt it, and, to say the truth, found not the slightest indication of +fever. + +"But you may be ill and yet have no fever. Allow me this once to +prescribe for you. In the first place, go to bed. In the next"— + +"You are mistaken," he interposed; "I am as well as I can expect to be +under the excitement which I suffer. If you really wish me well, you +will relieve this excitement." + +"And how is this to be done?" + +"Very easily, Jupiter and myself are going upon an expedition into the +hills, upon the mainland, and, in this expedition, we shall need the +aid of some person in whom we can confide. You are the only one we can +trust. Whether we succeed or fail, the excitement which you now +perceive in me will be equally allayed." + +"I am anxious to oblige you in any way," I replied; "but do you mean to +say that this infernal beetle has any connection with your expedition +into the hills?" + +"It has." + +"Then, Legrand, I can become a party to no such absurd proceeding." + +"I am sorry—very sorry—for we shall have to try it by ourselves." + +"Try it by yourselves! The man is surely mad!—but stay!—how long do you +propose to be absent?" + +"Probably all night. We shall start immediately, and be back, at all +events, by sunrise." + +"And will you promise me upon your honor, that when this freak of yours +is over, and the bug business (good God!) settled to your satisfaction, +you will then return home and follow my advice implicitly, as that of +your physician?" + +"Yes; I promise; and now let us be off, for we have no time to lose." + +With a heavy heart I accompanied my friend. We started about four +o'clock—Legrand, Jupiter, the dog, and myself. Jupiter had with him the +scythe and spades, the whole of which he insisted upon carrying, more +through fear, it seemed to me, of trusting either of the implements +within reach of his master, than from any excess of industry or +complaisance. His demeanor was dogged in the extreme, and "dat d——d +bug" were the sole words which escaped his lips during the journey. For +my own part, I had charge of a couple of dark lanterns, while Legrand +contented himself with the _scarabaeus_, which he carried attached to +the end of a bit of whipcord, twirling it to and fro, with the air of a +conjurer, as he went. When I observed this last plain evidence of my +friend's aberration of mind, I could scarcely refrain from tears. I +thought it best, however, to humor his fancy, at least for the present, +or until I could adopt some more energetic measures with a chance of +success. In the meantime I endeavored, but all in vain, to sound him in +regard to the object of the expedition. Having succeeded in inducing me +to accompany him, he seemed unwilling to hold conversation upon any +topic of minor importance, and to all my questions vouchsafed no other +reply than "We shall see!" + +We crossed the creek at the head of the island by means of a skiff, +and, ascending the high grounds on the shore of the mainland, proceeded +in a northwesterly direction, through a tract of country excessively +wild and desolate, where no trace of a human footstep was to be seen. +Legrand led the way with decision, pausing only for an instant, here +and there, to consult what appeared is to be certain landmarks of his +own contrivance upon a former occasion. + +In this manner we journeyed for about two hours, and the sun was just +setting when we entered a region infinitely more dreary than any yet +seen. It was a species of table-land, near the summit of an almost +inaccessible hill, densely wooded from base to pinnacle, and +interspersed with huge crags that appeared to lie loosely upon the +soil, and in many cases were prevented from precipitating themselves +into the valleys below, merely by the support of the trees against +which they reclined. Deep ravines, in various directions, gave an air +of still sterner solemnity to the scene. + +The natural platform to which we had clambered was thickly overgrown +with brambles, through which we soon discovered that it would have been +impossible to force our way but for the scythe; and Jupiter, by +direction of his master, proceeded to clear for us a path to the foot +of an enormously tall tulip-tree, which stood, with some eight or ten +oaks, upon the level, and far surpassed them all, and all other trees +which I had ever seen, in the beauty of its foliage and form, in the +wide spread of its branches, and in the general majesty of its +appearance. When we reached this tree, Legrand turned to Jupiter, and +asked him if he thought he could climb it. The old man seemed a little +staggered by the question, and for some moments made no reply. At +length he approached the huge trunk, walked slowly around it, and +examined it with minute attention. When he had completed his scrutiny, +he merely said: + +"Yes, massa, Jup climb any tree he ebber see in he life." + +"Then up with you as soon as possible, for it will soon be too dark to +see what we are about." + +"How far mus' go up, massa?" inquired Jupiter. + +"Get up the main trunk first, and then I will tell you which way to +go—and here—stop! take this beetle with you." + +"De bug, Massa Will! de goole-bug!" cried the negro, drawing back in +dismay, "what for mus' tote de bug way up de tree?—d——n if I do!" + +"If you are afraid, Jup, a great big negro like you, to take hold of a +harmless little dead beetle, why, you can carry it up by this string; +but if you do not take it up with you in some way, I shall be under the +necessity of breaking your head with this shovel." + +"'What de matter, now, massa?" said Jup, evidently shamed into +compliance; "always want fur to raise fuss wid old nigger. Was only +funnin' anyhow. _Me_ feered de bug! what I keer for de bug?" Here he +took cautiously hold of the extreme end of the string, and, maintaining +the insect as far from his person as circumstances would permit, +prepared to ascend the tree. + +In youth the tulip-tree, or _Liriodendron tulipifera_, the most +magnificent of American foresters, has a trunk peculiarly smooth, and +often rises to a great height without lateral branches; but, in its +riper age, the bark becomes gnarled and uneven, while many short limbs +make their appearance on the stem. Thus the difficulty of ascension, in +the present case, lay more in semblance than in reality. Embracing the +huge cylinder as closely as possible with his arms and knees, seizing +with his hands some projections, and resting his naked toes upon +others, Jupiter, after one or two narrow escapes from falling, at +length wriggled himself into the first great fork, and seemed to +consider the whole business as virtually accomplished. The _risk_ of +the achievement was, in fact, now over, although the climber was some +sixty or seventy feet from the ground. + +"Which way mus' go now, Massa Will?" he asked. + +"Keep up the largest branch, the one on this side," said Legrand. The +negro obeyed him promptly, and apparently with but little trouble; +ascending higher and higher, until no glimpse of his squat figure could +be obtained through the dense foliage which enveloped it. Presently his +voice was heard in a sort of halloo. + +"How much fudder I's got for go?" + +"How high up are you?" asked Legrand. + +"Ebber so fur," replied the negro; "can see de sky fru de top ob de +tree." + +"Never mind the sky, but attend to what I say. Look down the trunk and +count the limbs below you on this side. How many limbs have you +passed?" + +"One, two, three, four, fibe—I done pass fibe big limb, massa, 'pon dis +side." + +"Then go one limb higher." + +In a few minutes the voice was heard again, announcing that the seventh +limb was attained. + +"Now, Jup," cried Legrand, evidently much excited, "I want you to work +your way out upon that limb as far as you can. If you see anything +strange, let me know." + +By this time what little doubt I might have entertained of my poor +friend's insanity was put finally at rest. I had no alternative but to +conclude him stricken with lunacy, and I became seriously anxious about +getting him home. While I was pondering upon what was best to be done, +Jupiter's voice was again heard. + +"Mos' feerd for to ventur' 'pon dis limb berry far—'tis dead limb putty +much all de way." + +"Did you say it was a _dead_ limb, Jupiter?" cried Legrand, in a +quavering voice. + +"Yes, massa, him dead as de door-nail—done up for sartain—done departed +dis here life." + +"What in the name of heaven shall I do?" asked Legrand, seemingly in +the greatest distress. + +"Do!" said I, glad of an opportunity to interpose a word, "why, come +home and go to bed. Come now!—that's a fine fellow. It's getting late, +and, besides, you remember your promise." + +"Jupiter," cried he, without heeding me in the least, "do you hear me?" + +"Yes, Massa Will, hear you ebber so plain," + +"Try the wood well, then, with your knife, and see if you think it +_very_ rotten." + +"Him rotten, massa, sure nuff," replied the negro in a few moments, +"but not so berry rotten as mought be, Mought ventur' out leetle way +'pon de limb by myself, dat's true." + +"By yourself! What do you mean?" + +"Why, I mean de bug. 'Tis _berry_ hebby bug. S'pose I drop him down +fust, and den de limb won't break wid just de weight of one nigger." + +"You infernal scoundrel!" cried Legrand, apparently much relieved, +"what do you mean by telling me such nonsense as that? As sure as you +drop that beetle, I'll break your neck. Look here, Jupiter, do you hear +me?" + +"Yes, massa, needn' hollo at poor nigger dat style." + +"Well!—now listen! if you will venture out on the limb as far as you +think safe, and not let go the beetle, I'll make you a present of a +silver dollar as soon as you get down." + +"I'm gwine, Massa Will—deed I is," replied the negro very +promptly—"mos' out to de eend now." + +"_Out to the end_!" here fairly screamed Legrand; "do you say you are +out to the end of that limb?" + +"Soon be to de eend, massa—o-o-o-o-oh! Lor-gol-a-marcy! what _is_ dis +here 'pon de tree?" + +"Well," cried Legrand, highly delighted, "what is it?" + +"Why, 'taint noffin' but a skull—somebody bin lef' him head up de tree, +and de crows done gobble ebery bit ob de meat off." + +"A skull, you say! Very well; how is it fastened to the limb? What +holds it on?" + +"Shure 'nuff, massa; mus' look. Why, dis berry curous sarcumstance, +'pon my word—dare's a great big nail in do skull, what fastens ob it on +to de tree." + +"Well now, Jupiter, do exactly as I tell you—do you hear?" + +"Yes, massa." + +"Pay attention, then!—find the left eye of the skull." + +"Hum! hoo! dat's good! why, dare ain't no eye lef' at all." + +"Curse your stupidity! do you know your right hand from your left?" + +"Yes, I nose dat—nose all 'bout dat—'tis my lef' hand what I chops de +wood wid." + +"To be sure! you are left-handed; and your left eye is on the same side +as your left hand. Now, I suppose you can find the left eye of the +skull, or the place where the left eye has been. Have you found it?" + +Here was a long pause. At length the negro asked: + +"Is de lef' eye ob de skull 'pon de same side as de lef' hand ob de +skull, too?—'cause the skull ain't got not a bit ob a hand at +all—nebber mind! I got de lef' eye now—here de lef' eye! what mus' do +wid it?" + +"Let the beetle drop through it, as far as the string will reach, but +be careful and not let go your hold of the string." + +"All dat done, Massa Will; mighty easy ting for to put de bug fru de +hole; look out for him dar below!" + +During this colloquy no portion of Jupiter's person could be seen; but +the beetle, which he had suffered to descend, was now visible at the +end of the string, and glistened, like a globe of burnished gold, in +the last rays of the setting sun, some of which still faintly illumined +the eminence upon which we stood. The _scarabaeus_ hung quite clear of +any branches, and if allowed to fall, would have fallen at our feet. +Legrand immediately took the scythe, and cleared with it a circular +space, three or four yards in diameter, just beneath the insect, and, +having accomplished this, ordered Jupiter to let go the string and come +down from the tree. + +Driving a peg, with great nicety, into the ground, at the precise spot +where the beetle fell, my friend now produced from his pocket a +tape-measure. Fastening one end of this at that point of the trunk of +the tree which was nearest the peg, he unrolled it till it reached the +peg, and thence farther unrolled it, in the direction already +established by the two points of the tree and the peg, for the distance +of fifty feet—Jupiter clearing away the brambles with the scythe. At +the spot thus attained a second peg was driven, and about this, as a +centre, a rude circle, about four feet in diameter, described. Taking +now a spade himself, and giving one to Jupiter and one to me, Legrand +begged us to set about digging as quickly as possible. + +To speak the truth, I had no especial relish for such amusement at any +time, and, at that particular moment, would most willingly have +declined it; for the night was coming on, and I felt much fatigued with +the exercise already taken; but I saw no mode of escape, and was +fearful of disturbing my poor friend's equanimity by a refusal. Could I +have depended, indeed, upon Jupiter's aid, I would have had no +hesitation in attempting to get the lunatic home by force; but I was +too well assured of the old negro's disposition, to hope that he would +assist me, under any circumstances, in a personal contest with his +master. I made no doubt that the latter had been infected with some of +the innumerable Southern superstitions about money buried, and that his +fantasy had received confirmation by the finding of the _scarabaeus_, +or, perhaps, by Jupiter's obstinacy in maintaining it to be "a bug of +real gold." A mind disposed to lunacy would readily be led away by such +suggestions—especially if chiming in with favorite preconceived +ideas—and then I called to mind the poor fellow's speech about the +beetle's being "the index of his fortune." Upon the whole, I was sadly +vexed and puzzled, but, at length, I concluded to make a virtue of +necessity—to dig with a good will, and thus the sooner to convince the +visionary, by ocular demonstration, of the fallacy of the opinions he +entertained. + +The lanterns having been lit, we all fell to work with a zeal worthy a +more rational cause; and, as the glare fell upon our persons and +implements, I could not help thinking how picturesque a group we +composed, and how strange and suspicious our labors must have appeared +to any interloper who, by chance, might have stumbled upon our +whereabouts. + +We dug very steadily for two hours. Little was said; and our chief +embarrassment lay in the yelping of the dog, who took exceeding +interest in our proceedings. He at length became so obstreperous, that +we grew fearful of his giving the alarm to some stragglers in the +vicinity—-or, rather, this was the apprehension of Legrand; for myself, +I should have rejoiced at any interruption which might have enabled me +to get the wanderer home. The noise was, at length, very effectually +silenced by Jupiter, who, getting out of the hole with a dogged air of +deliberation, tied the brute's mouth up with one of his suspenders, and +then returned, with a grave chuckle, to his task. + +When the time mentioned had expired, we had reached a depth of five +feet, and yet no signs of any treasure became manifest. A general pause +ensued, and I began to hope that the farce was at an end. Legrand, +however, although evidently much disconcerted, wiped his brow +thoughtfully and recommenced. We had excavated the entire circle of +four feet diameter, and now we slightly enlarged the limit, and went to +the farther depth of two feet. Still nothing appeared. The gold seeker, +whom I sincerely pitied, at length clambered from the pit, with the +bitterest disappointment imprinted upon every feature, and proceeded, +slowly and reluctantly, to put on his coat, which he had thrown off at +the beginning of his labor. In the meantime I made no remark. Jupiter, +at a signal from his master, began to gather up his tools. This done, +and the dog having been unmuzzled, we turned in profound silence +towards home. + +We had taken, perhaps, a dozen steps in this direction, when, with a +loud oath, Legrand strode up to Jupiter and seized him by the collar. +The astonished negro opened his eyes and mouth to the fullest extent, +let fall the spades, and fell upon his knees. + +"You scoundrel," said Legrand, hissing out the syllables from between +his clenched teeth, "you infernal black villain! speak, I tell you! +answer me this instant, without prevarication! which—which is your left +eye?" + +"Oh, my golly, Massa Will! ain't dis here my lef' eye for sartain?" +roared the terrified Jupiter, placing his hand upon his _right_ organ +of vision, and holding it there with a desperate pertinacity, as if in +immediate dread of his master's attempt at a gouge. + +"I thought so! I knew it! hurrah!" vociferated Legrand, letting the +negro go, and executing a series of curvets and caracoles[13], much to +the astonishment of his valet, who, arising from his knees, looked +mutely from his master to myself, and then from myself to his master. + +"Come! we must go back," said the latter; "the game's not up yet;" and +he again led the way to the tulip-tree. + +"Jupiter," said he, when he reached its foot, "come here! was the skull +nailed to the limb with the face outwards, or with the face to the +limb?" + +"De face was out, massa, so dat de crows could get at de eyes good, +widout any trouble." + +"Well, then, was it this eye or that through which you dropped the +beetle?"—here Legrand touched each of Jupiter's eyes. + +"'Twas dis eye, massa—de lef' eye—jis as you tell me," and here it was +his right eye that the negro indicated. + +"That will do—we must try it again." + +Here my friend, about whose madness I now saw or fancied that I saw, +certain indications of method, removed the peg which marked the spot +where the beetle fell, to a spot about three inches to the westward of +its former position, Taking now the tape-measure from the nearest point +of the trunk to the peg, as before, and continuing the extension in a +straight line to the distance of fifty feet, a spot was indicated, +removed by several yards from the point at which we had been digging. + +Around the new position a circle, somewhat larger than in the former +instance, was now described, and we again set to work with the spades, +I was dreadfully weary, but scarcely understanding what had occasioned +the change in my thoughts, I felt no longer any great aversion from the +labor imposed, I had become most unaccountably interested—nay, even +excited. Perhaps there was something, amid all the extravagant demeanor +of Legrand—some air of forethought, or of deliberation, which impressed +me. I dug eagerly, and now and then caught myself actually looking, +with something that very much resembled expectation, for the fancied +treasure, the vision of which had demented my unfortunate companion. At +a period when such vagaries of thought most fully possessed me, and +when we had been at work perhaps an hour and a half, we were again +interrupted by the violent howlings of the dog. His uneasiness in the +first instance had been, evidently, but the result of playfulness or +caprice, but he now assumed a bitter and serious tone. Upon Jupiter's +again attempting to muzzle him, he made furious resistance, and, +leaping into the hole, tore up the mould frantically with his claws. In +a few seconds he had uncovered a mass of human bones, forming two +complete skeletons, intermingled with several buttons of metal, and +what appeared to be the dust of decayed woolen. One or two strokes of a +spade upturned the blade of a large Spanish knife, and, as we dug +farther, three or four pieces of gold and silver coin came to light. + +At sight of these the joy of Jupiter could scarcely be restrained, but +the countenance of his master wore an air of extreme disappointment. He +urged us, however, to continue our exertions, and the words were hardly +uttered when I stumbled and fell forward, having caught the toe of my +boot in a large ring of iron that lay half buried in the loose earth. + +We now worked in earnest, and never did I pass ten minutes of more +intense excitement. During this interval we had fairly unearthed an +oblong chest of wood which, from its perfect preservation and wonderful +hardness, had plainly been subjected to some mineralizing +process—perhaps that of the bichloride of mercury. This box was three +feet and a half long, three feet broad, and two and a half feet deep. +It was firmly secured by bands of wrought iron, riveted, and forming a +kind of trellis-work over the whole. On each side of the chest, near +the top, were three rings of iron—six in all—by means of which a firm +hold could be obtained by six persons. Our utmost united endeavors +served only to disturb the coffer very slightly in its bed. We at once +saw the impossibility of removing so great a weight. Luckily, the sole +fastenings of the lid consisted of two sliding bolts. These we drew +back—trembling and panting with anxiety. In an instant, a treasure of +incalculable value lay gleaming before us. As the rays of the lanterns +fell within the pit, there flashed upwards a glow and a glare, from a +confused heap of gold and of jewels, that absolutely dazzled our eyes. + +I shall not pretend to describe the feelings with which I gazed. +Amazement was, of course, predominant. Legrand appeared exhausted with +excitement, and spoke very few words. Jupiter's countenance wore, for +some minutes, as deadly a pallor as it is possible, in the nature of +things, for any negro's visage to assume. He seemed +stupefied—-thunder-stricken. Presently he fell upon his knees in the +pit, and, burying his naked arms up to the elbows in gold, let them +there remain, as if enjoying the luxury of a bath. At length, with a +deep sigh, he exclaimed, as if in a soliloquy: + +"And dis all cum ob de goole-bug! de putty goole-bug! de poor little +goole-bug, what I 'boosed in dat sabage kind ob style! Ain't you +'shamed ofa yourself, nigger?—answer me dat!" + +It became necessary, at last, that I should arouse both master and +valet to the expediency of removing the treasure. It was growing late, +and it behooved us to make exertion, that we might get everything +housed before daylight. It was difficult to say what should be done, +and much time was spent in deliberation—so confused were the ideas of +all. We, finally, lightened the box by removing two-thirds of its +contents, when we were enabled, with some trouble, to raise it from the +hole. The articles taken out were deposited among the brambles, and the +dog left to guard them, with strict orders from Jupiter neither, upon +any pretence, to stir from the spot, nor to open his mouth until our +return. We then hurriedly made for home with the chest, reaching the +hut in safety, but after excessive toil, at one o'clock in the morning. +Worn out as we were, it was not in human nature to do more just now. We +rested until two, and had supper, starting for the hills immediately +afterwards, armed with three stout sacks, which, by good luck, were +upon the premises. A little before four we arrived at the pit, divided +the remainder of the booty as equally as might be among us, and, +leaving the holes unfilled, again set out for the hut, at which, for +the second time, we deposited our golden burdens, just as the first +streaks of dawn gleamed from over the treetops in the east. + +We were now thoroughly broken down; but the intense excitement of the +time denied us repose. After an unquiet slumber of some three or four +hours' duration, we arose, as if by preconcert, to make examination of +our treasure. + +The chest had been full to the brim, and we spent the whole day, and +the greater part of the next night, in a scrutiny of its contents. +There had been nothing like order or arrangement. Everything had been +heaped in promiscuously. + +Having assorted all with care, we found ourselves possessed of even +vaster wealth than we had at first supposed. In coin there was rather +more than four hundred and fifty thousand dollars—estimating the value +of the pieces, as accurately as we could, by the tables of the period. +There was not a particle of silver. All was gold of antique date and of +great variety—French, Spanish, and German money, with a few English +guineas, and some counters[14] of which we had never seen specimens +before. There were several very large and heavy coins, so worn that we +could make nothing of their inscriptions. There was no American money. +The value of the jewels we found more difficulty in estimating. There +were diamonds—some of them exceedingly large and fine—a hundred and ten +in all, and not one of them small; eighteen rubies of remarkable +brilliancy; three hundred and ten emeralds, all very beautiful; and +twenty-one sapphires, with an opal. These stones had all been broken +from their settings and thrown loose in the chest. The settings +themselves, which we picked out from among the other gold, appeared to +have been beaten up with hammers, as if to prevent indentification. +Besides all this, there was a vast quantity of solid gold +ornaments—nearly two hundred massive finger and ear rings; rich +chains—thirty of these, if I remember; eighty-three very large and +heavy crucifixes; five gold censers of great value; a prodigious golden +punch-bowl, ornamented with richly chased vine-leaves and +Bacchanalian[15] figures; with two sword handles exquisitely embossed, +and many other smaller articles which I cannot recollect. The weight of +these valuables exceeded three hundred and fifty pounds avoirdupois; +and in this estimate I have not included one hundred and ninety-seven +superb gold watches, three of the number being worth each five hundred +dollars, if one. Many of them were very old, and as time-keepers +valueless, the works having suffered, more or less, from corrosion; but +all were richly jewelled and in cases of great worth. We estimated the +entire contents of the chest, that night, at a million and a half of +dollars; and, upon the subsequent disposal of the trinkets and jewels +(a few being retained for our own use), it was found we had greatly +undervalued the treasure. + +When, at length, we had concluded our examination, and the intense +excitement of the time had in some measure subsided, Legrand, who saw +that I was dying with impatience for a solution of this most +extraordinary riddle, entered into a full detail of all the +circumstances connected with it. + +"You remember," said he, "the night when I handed you the rough sketch +I had made of the _scarabaeus_. You recollect, also, that I became +quite vexed at you for insisting that my drawing resembled a +death's-head. When you first made this assertion I thought you were +jesting; but afterwards I called to mind the peculiar spots on the back +of the insect, and admitted to myself that your remark had some, little +foundation in fact. Still, the sneer at my graphic powers irritated +me—for I am considered a good artist—and, therefore, when you handed me +the scrap of parchment, I was about to crumple it up and throw it +angrily into the fire." + +"The scrap of paper, you mean," said I. + +"No; it had much of the appearance of paper, and at first I supposed it +to be such, but when I came to draw upon it, I discovered it at once to +be a piece of very thin parchment. It was quite dirty, you remember. +Well, as I was in the very act of crumpling it up, my glance fell upon +the sketch at which you had been looking, and you may imagine my +astonishment when I perceived, in fact, the figure of a death's-head +just where, it seemed to me, I had made the drawing of the beetle. For +a moment I was too much amazed to think with accuracy. I knew that my +design was very different in detail from this, although there was a +certain similarity in general outline. Presently I took a candle, and +seating myself at the other end of the room, proceeded to scrutinize +the parchment more closely. Upon turning it over, I saw my own sketch +upon, the reverse, just as I had made it. My first idea, now, was mere +surprise at the really remarkable similarity of outline—at the singular +coincidence involved in the fact that, unknown to me, there should have +been a skull upon the other side of the parchment, immediately beneath +my figure of the _scarabaeus_, and that this skull, not only in +outline, but in size, should so closely resemble my drawing. I say the +singularity of this coincidence absolutely stupefied me for a time. +This is the usual effect of such coincidences. The mind struggles to +establish a connection—a sequence of cause and effect—and being unable +to do so, suffers a species of temporary paralysis. But when I +recovered from this stupor, there dawned upon me gradually a conviction +which startled me even far more than the coincidence. I began +distinctly, positively, to remember that there had been _no_ drawing +upon the parchment when I made my sketch of the _scarabaeus_. I became +perfectly certain of this; for I recollected turning up first one side +and then the other, in search of the cleanest spot. Had the skull been +then there, of course, I could not have failed to notice it. Here was +indeed a mystery which I felt it impossible to explain; but, even at +that early moment, there seemed to glimmer, faintly, within the most +remote and secret chambers of my intellect, a glowworm-like conception +of that truth which last night's adventure brought to so magnificent a +demonstration. I arose at once, and putting the parchment securely +away, dismissed all further reflection until I should be alone. + +"When you had gone, and when Jupiter was fast asleep, I betook myself +to a more methodical investigation of the affair. In the first place I +considered the manner in which the parchment had come into my +possession. The spot where we discovered the _scarabaeus_ was on the +coast of the mainland, about a mile eastward of the island, and but a +short distance above high water mark. Upon my taking hold of it, it +gave me a sharp bite, which caused me to let it drop. Jupiter, with his +accustomed caution, before seizing the insect, which had flown towards +him, looked about him for a leaf, or something of that nature, by which +to take hold of it. It was at this moment that his eyes, and mine also, +fell upon the scrap of parchment, which I then supposed to be paper. It +was lying half buried in the sand, a corner sticking up. Near the spot +where we found it, I observed the remnants of the hull of what appeared +to have been a ship's long-boat. The wreck seemed to have been there +for a very great while; for the resemblance to boat timbers could +scarcely be traced. + +"Well, Jupiter picked up the parchment, wrapped the beetle in it, and +gave it to me. Soon afterwards we turned to go home, and on the way met +Lieutenant G——. I showed him the insect, and he begged me to let him +take it to the fort. Upon my consenting, he thrust it forthwith into +his waistcoat pocket, without the parchment in which it had been +wrapped, and which I had continued to hold in my hand during his +inspection. Perhaps he dreaded my changing my mind, and thought it best +to make sure of the prize at once—you know how enthusiastic he is on +all subjects connected with Natural History. At the same time, without +being conscious of it, I must have deposited the parchment in my own +pocket. + +"You remember that when I went to the table, for the purpose of making +a sketch of the beetle, I found no paper where it was usually kept, I +looked in the drawer, and found none there. I searched my pockets, +hoping to find an old letter, when my hand fell upon the parchment. I +thus detail the precise mode in which it came into my possession; for +the circumstances impressed me with peculiar force. + +"No doubt you will think me fanciful, but I had already established a +kind of _connection_. I had put together two links of a great chain. +There was a boat lying upon a seacoast, and not far from the boat was a +parchment—_not a paper_—with a skull depicted upon it. You will, of +course, ask, 'Where is the connection?' I reply that the skull, or +death's-head, is the well-known emblem of the pirate. The flag of the +death's-head is hoisted in all engagements. + +"I have said that the scrap was parchment, and not paper. Parchment is +durable—almost imperishable. Matters of little moment are rarely +consigned to parchment, since, for the mere ordinary purposes of +drawing or writing, it is not nearly so well adapted as paper. This +reflection suggested some meaning—some relevancy—in the death's-head. I +did not fail to observe, also, the _form_ of the parchment. Although +one of its corners had been, by some accident, destroyed, it could be +seen that the original form was oblong. It was just such a slip, +indeed, as might have been chosen for a memorandum—for a record of +something to be long remembered and carefully preserved." + +"But," I interposed, "you say that the skull was _not_ upon the +parchment when you made the drawing of the beetle. How, then, do you +trace any connection between the boat and the skull—since this latter, +according to your own admission, must have been designed (God only +knows how or by whom) at some period subsequent to your sketching the +_scarabaeus_?" + +"Ah, hereupon turns the whole mystery; although the secret, at this +point, I had comparatively little difficulty in solving. My steps were +sure, and could afford but a single result. I reasoned, for example, +thus: When I drew the _scarabaeus_, there was no skull apparent upon +the parchment. When I had completed the drawing I gave it to you, and +observed you narrowly until you returned it, _You_, therefore, did not +design the skull, and no one else was present to do it. Then it was not +done by human agency. And nevertheless it was done. + +"At this stage of my reflections I endeavored to remember, and _did_ +remember, with entire distinctness, every incident which occurred about +the period in question. The weather was chilly (oh, rare and happy +accident!), and a fire was blazing upon the hearth. I was heated with +exercise, and sat near the table. You, however, had drawn a chair close +to the chimney. Just as I placed the parchment in your hand, and as you +were in the act of inspecting it, Wolf, the Newfoundland, entered, and +leaped upon your shoulders. With, your left hand you caressed him and +kept him off, while your right, holding the parchment, was permitted to +fall listlessly between your knees, and in close proximity to the fire. +At one moment I thought the blaze had caught it, and was about to +caution you, but before I could speak you had withdrawn it, and were +engaged in its examination. When I considered all these particulars, I +doubted not for a moment that _heat_ had been the agent in bringing to +light, upon the parchment, the skull which I saw designed upon it. You +are well aware that chemical preparations exist, and have existed time +out of mind, by means of which it is possible to write upon either +paper or vellum, so that the characters shall become visible only when +subjected to the action of fire. Zaffre[16], digested in _aqua +regia_[17], and diluted with four times its weight of water, is +sometimes employed; a green tint results. The regulus[18] of cobalt, +dissolved in spirit of nitre, gives a red. These colors disappear at +longer or shorter intervals after the material written upon cools, but +again become apparent upon the re-application of heat. + +"I now scrutinized the death's-head with care. Its outer edges—the +edges of the drawing nearest the edge of the vellum—were far more +_distinct_ than the others. It was clear that the action of the caloric +had been imperfect or unequal. I immediately kindled a fire, and +subjected every portion of the parchment to a glowing heat. At first, +the only effect was the strengthening of the faint lines in the skull; +but, upon persevering in the experiment, there became visible, at the +corner of the slip diagonally opposite to the spot in which the +death's-head was delineated, the figure of what I at first supposed to +be a goat. A closer scrutiny, however, satisfied me that it was +intended for a kid." + +"Ha! ha!" said I; "to be sure I have no right to laugh at you—a million +and a half of money is too serious a matter for mirth—but you are not +about to establish a third link in your chain: you will not find any +especial connection between your pirates and a goat; pirates, you know, +have nothing to do with goats; they appertain to the farming +interests." + +"But I have said that the figure was _not_ that of a goat." + +"Well, a kid, then—pretty much the same thing." + +"Pretty much, but not altogether," said Legrand. + +"You may have heard of one _Captain_ Kidd[19]. I at once looked on the +figure of the animal as a kind of punning or hieroglyphical signature. +I say signature because its position upon the vellum suggested this +idea. The death's-head at the corner diagonally opposite had, in the +same manner, the air of a stamp, or seal. But I was sorely put out by +the absence of all else—of the body to my imagined instrument—of the +text for my context." + +"I presume you expected to find a letter between the stamp and the +signature." + +"Something of the kind. The fact is, I felt irresistibly impressed with +a presentiment of some vast good fortune impending. I can scarcely say +why. Perhaps, after all, it was rather a desire than an actual belief; +but do you know that Jupiter's silly words, about the bug being of +solid gold, had a remarkable effect upon my fancy? And then the series +of accidents and coincidences—these were so _very_ extraordinary. Do +you observe how mere an accident it was that these events should have +occurred upon the _sole_ day of all the year in which it has been, or +may be, sufficiently cool for fire, and that without the fire, or +without the intervention of the dog at the precise moment in which he +appeared, I should, never have become aware of the death's-head, and so +never the possessor of the treasure?" + +"But proceed—I am all impatience." + +"Well; you have heard, of course, the many stories current—the thousand +vague rumors afloat about money buried, somewhere, upon the Atlantic +coast, by Kidd and his associates. These rumors must have had some +foundation in fact. And that the rumors have existed so long and so +continuously could have resulted, it appeared to me, only from the +circumstance of the buried treasure still _remaining_ entombed. Had +Kidd concealed his plunder for a time, and afterwards reclaimed it, the +rumors would scarcely have reached us in their present unvarying form. +You will observe that the stories told are all about money-seekers, not +about money-finders. Had the pirate recovered his money, there the +affair would have dropped. It seemed to me that some accident—say the +loss of a memorandum indicating its locality—had deprived him of the +means of recovering it, and that this accident had become known to his +followers who otherwise might never have heard that treasure had been +concealed at all, and who, busying themselves in vain, because unguided +attempts to regain it had given first birth, and then universal +currency, to the reports which are now so common. Have you ever heard +of any important treasure being unearthed along the coast?" + +"Never." + +"But that Kidd's accumulations were immense is well known. I took it +for granted, therefore, that the earth still held them; and you will +scarcely be surprised when I tell you that I felt a hope, nearly +amounting to certainty, that the parchment so strangely found involved +a lost record of the place of deposit." + +"But how did you proceed?" + +"I held the vellum again to the fire, after increasing the heat; but +nothing appeared. I now thought it possible that the coating of dirt +might have something to do with the failure; so I carefully rinsed the +parchment by pouring warm water over it, and, having done this, I +placed it in a tin pan, with the skull downwards, and put the pan upon +a furnace of lighted charcoal. In a few minutes, the pan having become +thoroughly heated, I removed the slip, and to my inexpressible joy, +found it spotted, in several places, with what appeared to be figures +arranged in lines. Again I placed it in the pan, and suffered it to +remain another minute. Upon taking it off, the whole was just as you +see it now." + +Here Legrand, having reheated the parchment, submitted it to my +inspection, The following characters were rudely traced, in a red tint +between the death's-head and the goat: + + "53‡‡†305))6*;4826)4‡.);806*;48†8 + ¶60))85;1‡(;:‡*8†83(88)5*†;46(;88*96 + ?;8)*‡(;485);5*†2:*‡(;4956*2(5*—4)8 + ¶8*;4069285);)6†8)4‡‡;1(‡9;48081;8:8‡ + 1;48†85;4)485†528806*81(‡9;48;(88;4 (‡?34;48)4‡;161;:188;‡?;" + +"But," said I, returning him the slip, "I am as much in the dark as +ever. Were all the jewels of Golconda[20] awaiting me on my solution of +this enigma, I am quite sure that I should be unable to earn them." + +"And yet," said Legrand, "the solution is by no means so difficult as +you might be led to imagine from the first hasty inspection of the +characters. These characters, as any one might readily guess, form a +cipher, that is to say, they convey a meaning; but then, from what is +known of Kidd, I could not suppose him capable of constructing any of +the more abstruse cryptographs[21]. I made up my mind, at once, that +this was of a simple species—such, however, as would appear, to the +crude intellect of the sailor, absolutely insoluble without the key." + +"And you really solved it?" + +"Readily; I have solved others of an abstruseness ten thousand times +greater. Circumstances, and a certain bias of mind, have led me to take +interest in such riddles, and it may well be doubted whether human +ingenuity can construct an enigma of the kind which human ingenuity may +not, by proper application, resolve. In fact, having once established +connected and legible characters, I scarcely gave a thought to the mere +difficulty of developing their import. + +"In the present case—indeed, in all cases of secret writing—the first +question regards the _language_ of the cipher; for the principles of +solution, so far especially as the more simple ciphers are concerned, +depend upon, and are varied by, the genius of the particular idiom. In +general, there is no alternative but experiment (directed by +probabilities) of every tongue known to him who attempts the solution, +until the true one be attained. But, with the cipher now before us, all +difficulty was removed by the signature. The pun upon the word 'Kidd' +is appreciable in no other language than the English. But for this +consideration I should have begun my attempts with the Spanish and +French, as the tongues in which a secret of this kind would most +naturally have been written by a pirate of the Spanish main[22]. As it +was, I assume the cryptograph to be English. + +"You observe there are no divisions between the words. Had there been +divisions, the task would have been comparatively easy. In such case I +would have commenced with a collation and analysis of the shorter +words; and had a word of a single letter occurred, as is most likely +(_a_ or _I_, for example), I should have considered the solution as +assured. But there being no divisions, my first step was to ascertain +the predominant letters, as well as the least frequent, + +"Counting all, I constructed a table thus;— + + Of the character 8 there are 33. + + ; " 26. + + 4 " 19. + + ‡) " 16. + + * " 13. + + 5 " 12. + + 6 " 11. + + †1 " 8. + + 0 " 6. + + 92 " 5. + + :3 " 4. + + ? " 3. + + ¶ " 2. + + —. " 1. + +"Now, in English, the letter which most frequently occurs is _e_. +Afterwards, the succession runs thus: _a o i d h n r s t u y c f g l m +w b k p q x z_. E predominates, however, so remarkably that an +individual sentence of any length is rarely seen in which it is not the +prevailing character. + +"Here, then, we have, in the very beginning, the groundwork for +something more than a mere guess. The general use which may be made of +the table is obvious—but in this particular cipher we shall only very +partially require its aid. As our predominant character is 8, we will +commence by assuming it as the _e_ of the natural alphabet. To verify +the supposition, let us observe if the 8 be seen often in couples—for +_e_ is doubled with great frequency in English—in such words, for +example, as 'meet,' 'fleet,' 'speed,' 'seen,' 'been,' 'agree,' etc. In +the present instance we see it doubled no less than five times, +although the cryptograph is brief. + +"Let us assume 8, then, as _e_. Now of all _words_ in the language, +'the' is most usual; let us see, therefore, whether there are not +repetitions of any three characters, in the same order of collocation, +the last of them being 8. If we discover repetitions of such letters, +so arranged, they will most probably represent the word 'the.' Upon +inspection, we find no less than seven such arrangements, the +characters being ;48. We may, therefore, assume that the semicolon +represents _t_, that 4 represents _h_, and that 8 represents _e_—the +last being now well confirmed. Thus a great step has been taken. + +"But, having established a single word, we are enabled to establish a +vastly important point; that is to say, several commencements and +terminations of other words. Let us refer, for example, to the last +instance but one, in which the combination ;48 occurs—not far from the +end of the cipher. We know that the semicolon immediately ensuing is +the commencement of a word, and, of the six characters succeeding this +'the,' we are cognizant of no less than five. Let us set these +characters down, thus, by the letters we know them to represent, +leaving a space for the unknown— + + t eeth. + +"Here we are enabled, at once, to discard the '_th_,' as forming no +portion of the word commencing with the first _t_; since by experiment +of the entire alphabet for a letter adapted to the vacancy, we perceive +that no word can be formed of which this _th_ can be a part. We are +thus narrowed into + + t ee, + +and, going through the alphabet, if necessary, as before, we arrive at +the word 'tree,' as the sole possible reading. We thus gain another +letter, _r_, represented by (, with the words 'the tree" in +juxtaposition. + +"Looking beyond these words, for a short distance, we again see the +combination ;48, and employ it by way of _termination_ to what +immediately precedes. We have thus this arrangement: + + the tree ;4 (‡?34 the, + +or, substituting the natural letters, whereknown, it reads thus: + + the tree thr‡?3h the. + +"Now, if, in place of the unknown characters, we leave blank spaces, or +substitute dots, we read thus: + + the tree thr…h the, + +when the word '_through_' makes itself evident at once. But the +discovery gives us three new letters, _o, u_, and _g_, represented by ‡ +? and 3. + +"Looking now, narrowly, through the cipher for combinations of known, +characters, we find, not very far from the beginning, this arrangement. + + 83(88, or, egree, + +which, plainly, is the conclusion of the word 'degree' and gives us +another letter, _d_, represented by †. + +"Four letters beyond the word 'degree,' we perceive the combination. + + ;46(;88*. + +"Translating the known characters, and representing the unknown by +dots, as before, we read thus: + + th.rtee, + +an arrangement immediately suggestive of the word 'thirteen,' and again +furnishing us with two new characters, _i_, and _n_, represented by 6 +and *. + +"Referring, now, to the beginning of the cryptograph, we find the +combination, + + 53 ‡‡†. + +"Translating, as before, we obtain + + .good, + +which assures us that the first letter is _A_, and that the first two +words are 'A good.' + +"To avoid confusion, it is now time that we arrange our key, as far as +discovered, in a tabular form. It will stand thus: + + 5 represents a † " d 8 " e 3 " g 4 + " h 6 " i * " n ‡ " o ( " + r ; " t + +"We have, therefore, no less than ten of the most important letters +represented, and it will be unnecessary to proceed with the details of +the solution. I have said enough to convince you that ciphers of this +nature are readily soluble, and to give you some insight into the +rationale[23] of their development. But be assured that the specimen +before us appertains to the very simplest species of cryptograph. It +now only remains to give you the full translation of the characters +upon the parchment, as unriddled. Here it is: + + "'_A good glass in the bishop's hostel in the devil's seat + twenty-one degrees and thirteen minutes northeast and by north + main branch seventh limb east side shoot from the left eye of the + death's-head a bee-line from the tree through the shot fifty feet + out_.'" + +"But," said I, "the enigma seems still in as bad a condition as ever. +How is it possible to extort a meaning from all this jargon about +'devil's seats,' death's-heads,' and 'bishop's hotels'?" + +"I confess," replied Legrand, "that the matter still wears a serious +aspect, when regarded with a casual glance. My first endeavor was to +divide the sentence into the natural divisions intended by the +cryptographist." + +"You mean to punctuate it?" + +"Something of that kind." + +"But how was it possible to effect this?" + +"I reflected that it had been a _point_ with the writer to run his +words together without divisions, so as to increase the difficulty of +solution. Now, a not over acute man, in pursuing such, an object, would +be nearly certain to overdo the matter. When, in the course of his +composition, he arrived at a break in his subject which would naturally +require a pause, or a point, he would be exceedingly apt to run his +characters, at this place, more than usually close together. If you +will observe the Ms. in the present instance, you will easily detect +five such cases of unusual crowding. Acting on this hint, I made the +division thus: + + "'_A good glass in the bishop's hostel in the devil's + seat—twenty-one degrees and thirteen minutes—northeast and by + north—main branch seventh limb east side—shoot from the left eye + of the death's-head—a bee-line from the tree through the shot + fifty feet out_.'" + +"Even this division," said I, "leaves me still in the dark." + +"It left me also in the dark," replied Legrand, "for a few days, during +which I made diligent inquiry, in the neighborhood of Sullivan's +Island, for any building, which went by the name of the 'Bishop's +Hotel'—for of course I dropped the obsolete word 'hostel.' Gaining no +information on the subject, I was on the point of extending my sphere +of search, and proceeding in a more systematic manner, when, one +morning, it entered into my head, quite suddenly, that this 'Bishop's +Hostel' might have some reference to an old family, of the name of +Bessop, which, time out of mind, had held possession of an ancient +manor-house, about four miles to the northward of the island. I +accordingly went over to the plantation, and reinstituted my inquiries +among the older negroes of the place. At length one of the most aged of +the women said that she had heard of such a place as _Bessop's Castle_ +and thought that she could guide me to it, but that it was not a +castle, nor tavern, but a high rock. + +"I offered to pay her well for her trouble, and, after some demur, she +consented to accompany me to the spot. We found it without much +difficulty, when, dismissing her, I proceeded to examine the place. The +'castle' consisted of an irregular assemblage of cliffs and rocks—one +of the latter being quite remarkable for its height as well as for its +insulated and artificial appearance, I clambered to its apex, and then +felt much at a loss as to what should be next done. + +"While I was buried in reflection, my eyes fell upon a narrow ledge in +the eastern face of the rock, perhaps a yard below the summit upon +which I stood. This ledge projected about eighteen inches, and was not +more than a foot wide, while a niche in the cliff just above it gave it +a rude resemblance to one of the hollow-backed chairs used by our +ancestors. I made no doubt that here was the 'devil's seat' alluded to +in the Ms., and now I seemed to grasp the full secret of the riddle. + +"The 'good glass,' I knew, could have reference to nothing but a +telescope; for the word 'glass' is rarely employed in any other sense +by seamen. Now here, I at once saw, was a telescope to be used, and a +definite point of view, _admitting no variation_, from which to use it. +Nor did I hesitate to believe that the phrase 'twenty-one degrees and +thirteen minutes' and 'northeast and by north,' were intended as +directions for the levelling of the glass. Greatly excited by these +discoveries, I hurried home, procured a telescope, and returned to the +rock. + +"I let myself down to the ledge, and found that it was impossible to +retain a seat upon it except in one particular position. This fact +confirmed my preconceived idea. I proceeded to use the glass. Of course +the 'twenty-one degrees and thirteen minutes' could allude to nothing +but elevation above the visible horizon, since the horizontal direction +was clearly indicated by the words 'northeast and by north.' This +latter direction I at once established by means of a pocket-compass; +then, pointing the glass as nearly at an angle of twenty-one degrees of +elevation as I could do it by guess, I moved it cautiously up or down, +until my attention was arrested by a circular rift or opening in the +foliage of a large tree that over-topped its fellows in the distance. +In the centre of this rift I perceived a white spot, but could not, at +first, distinguish what it was. Adjusting the focus of the telescope, I +again looked, and now made it out to be a human skull. + +"On this discovery I was so sanguine as to consider the enigma solved; +for the phrase 'main branch, seventh limb, east side' could refer only +to the position of the skull on the tree, while 'shoot from the left +eye of the death's-head' admitted also of but one interpretation, in +regard to a search for buried treasure. I perceived that the design was +to drop a bullet from the left eye of the skull, and that a bee-line, +or in other words, a straight line, drawn from the nearest point of the +trunk through 'the shot' (or the spot where the bullet fell) and thence +extended to a distance of fifty feet, would indicate a definite +point—and beneath this point I thought it at least _possible_ that a +deposit of value lay concealed." + +"All this." I said, "is exceedingly clear, and, although ingenious, +still simple and explicit. When you left the Bishop's Hotel, what +then?" + +"Why, having carefully taken the bearings of the tree, I turned +homewards. The instant that I left the 'devil's seat,' however, the +circular rift vanished; nor could I get a glimpse of it afterwards, +turn, as I would. What seems to me the chief ingenuity in this whole +business is the fact (for repeated experiment has convinced me it _is_ +a fact) that the circular opening in question is visible from no other +attainable point of view than that afforded by the narrow ledge on the +face of the rock. + +"In this expedition to the 'Bishop's Hotel' I had been attended by +Jupiter, who had no doubt observed for some weeks past the abstraction +of my demeanor, and took especial care not to leave me alone. But, on +the next day, getting up very early, I contrived to give him the slip, +and went into the hills in search of the tree. After much toil I found +it. When I came home at night my valet proposed to give me a flogging. +With the rest of the adventure I believe you are as well acquainted as +myself." + +"I suppose," said I, "you missed the spot, in the first attempt at +digging, through Jupiter's stupidity in letting the bug fall through +the right instead of through the left eye of the skull." + +"Precisely. This mistake made a difference of about two inches and a +half in the 'shot'—that is to say, in the position of the peg nearest +the tree—and had the treasure been _beneath_ the 'shot,' the error +would have been of little moment; but the 'shot,' together with the +nearest point of the tree, were merely two points for the establishment +of a line of direction; of course the error, however trivial in the +beginning, increased as we proceeded with the line, and by the time we +had gone fifty feet, threw us quite off the scent. But for my +deep-seated convictions that treasure was here somewhere actually +buried, we might have had all our labor in vain." + +"I presume the fancy of _the skull_—of letting fall a bullet through +the skull's eye—was suggested to Kidd by the piratical flag. No doubt +he felt a kind of poetical consistency in recovering his money through +this ominous insignium[24]." + +"Perhaps so; still, I cannot help thinking that common-sense had quite +as much to do with the matter as poetical consistency. To be visible +from the Devil's seat, it was necessary that the object, if small, +should be _white_: and there is nothing like your human skull for +retaining and even increasing its whiteness under exposure to all +vicissitudes of weather." + +"But your grandiloquence, and your conduct in swinging the beetle—how +excessively odd! I was sure you were mad. And why did you insist on +letting fall the bug, instead of a bullet, from the skull?" + +"Why, to be frank, I felt somewhat annoyed by your evident suspicions +touching my sanity, and so resolved to punish you quietly, in my own +way, by a little bit of sober mystification. For this reason I swung +the beetle, and for this reason I let it fall from the tree. An +observation of yours about its great weight suggested the latter idea." + +"Yes, I perceive; and now there is only one point which puzzles me. +What are we to make of the skeletons found in the hole?" + +"That is a question I am no more able to answer than yourself. There +seems, however, only one plausible way of accounting for them—and yet +it is dreadful to believe in such atrocity as my suggestion would +imply. It is clear that Kidd—if Kidd indeed secreted this treasure, +which I doubt not—it is clear that he must have had assistance in the +labor. But this labor concluded, he may have thought it expedient to +remove all participants in his secret. Perhaps a couple of blows with a +mattock were sufficient, while his coadjutors were busy in the pit; +perhaps it required a dozen—who shall tell?" + +NOTES + +[1] _The Gold-Bug_ was first published in _The Dollar Magazine_ in +1843. The story won a prize of one hundred dollars. + +[2] 100:3 All in the Wrong. The title of an amusing comedy by Arthur +Murphy (1730-1805). + +[3] 100:4 Huguenot. French Protestants, many of whom settled in South +Carolina. + +[4] 100: 18 Fort Moultrie. Erected in. 1776. Defended against the +British by Colonel William Moultrie. + +[5] 101:23 Swammerdam. A famous Dutch naturalist (1637-1680). + +[6] 101:25 manumitted. Freed from slavery. + +[7] 102:27 scarabaeus. The Latin for beetle. + +[8] 103:15 antennae. The feelers. + +[9] 105:8 scarabaeus caput hominis. Man's-head beetle. + +[10] 107:20 noovers. Manoeuvres. + +[11] 109:10 brusquerie. Lack of cordiality. + +[12] 110:26 empressement. Demonstrativeness. + +[13] 123:20 curvets and caracoles. Leaping and prancing of a horse. + +[14] 128:9 counters. Various coins. + +[15] 128:28 Bacchanalian. Revelling like the worshippers of Bacchus, +the god of wine. + +[16] 134:28 Zaffre. An oxide of cobalt. See dictionary. + +[17] 134:28 aqua regia. Royal water—a mixture of nitric and +hydrochloric acids. + +[18] 134:30 regulus. An old chemical term. + +[19] 135: 28 Captain Kidd. A Scottish sea captain who lived in New York +in the seventeenth century. + +[20] 138:19 Golconda. A town in India noted for its diamond market. + +[21] 138:28 cryptographs. Secret forms of writing. + +[22] 139:27 Spanish main. The northeastern portion of South America, +the Caribbean Sea, and the coast of North America to the Carolinas were +harassed by the Spaniards. + +[23] 144:6 rationale. Reasonable basis. + +[24] 149:19 insignium. Sign. + +COLLATERAL READINGS + +_The Murders in the Rue Morgue_, Edgar Allan Poe. + +_The Mystery of Marie Rogêt_, Edgar Allan Poe. + +_The Purloined Letter_, Edgar Allan Poe. + +_The Sign of the Four_, A. Conan Doyle. + +_A Scandal in Bohemia_, A. Conan Doyle. + +_The Chronicles of Addington_, B. Fletcher Robinson. + +_The Mystery of the Steel Disk_, Broughton Brandenburg. + +_The Rajah's Diamond_, R.L. Stevenson. + +_The Doctor, his Wife, and the Clock_, Anna Katharine Green. + +_The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_, A. Conan Doyle. + +_The Hound of the Baskervilles_, A. Conan Doyle. + +_A Double-Barrelled Detective Story_, Mark Twain. + +_Gallegher_, Richard Harding Davis. + + + + +THE BIRTHMARK[1] + + +_By Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-1862)_. + + +In the latter part of the last century there lived a man of science, an +eminent proficient in every branch of natural philosophy, who not long +before our story opens had made experience of a spiritual affinity more +attractive than any chemical one. He had left his laboratory to the +care of an assistant, cleared his fine countenance from the +furnace-smoke, washed the stain of acids from his fingers, and +persuaded a beautiful woman to become his wife. In those days, when the +comparatively recent discovery of electricity and other kindred +mysteries of Nature seemed to open paths into the region of miracle, it +was not unusual for the love of science to rival the love of woman in +its depth and absorbing energy. The higher intellect, the imagination, +the spirit, and even the heart might all find their congenial aliment +in pursuits which, as some of their ardent votaries believed, would +ascend from one step of powerful intelligence to another, until the +philosopher should lay his hand on the secret of creative force and +perhaps make new worlds for himself. We know not whether Aylmer +possessed this degree of faith in man's ultimate control over nature. +He had devoted himself, however, too unreservedly to scientific studies +ever to be weakened from them by any second passion. His love for his +young wife might prove the stronger of the two; but it could only be by +intertwining itself with his love of science and uniting the strength +of the latter to his own. + +Such a union accordingly took place, and was attended with truly +remarkable consequences and a deeply impressive moral. One day, very +soon after their marriage, Aylmer sat gazing at his wife with a trouble +in his countenance that grew stronger until he spoke. + +"Georgiana," said he, "has it never occurred to you that the mark upon +your cheek might be removed?" + +"No, indeed," said she, smiling; but, perceiving the seriousness of his +manner, she blushed deeply. "To tell you the truth, it has been so +often called a charm, that I was simple enough to imagine it might be +so." + +"Ah, upon another face perhaps it might," replied her husband; "but +never on yours. No, dearest Georgiana, you came so nearly perfect from +the hand of Nature that this slightest possible defect, which we +hesitate whether to term a defect or a beauty, shocks me, as being the +visible mark of earthly imperfection." + +"Shocks you, my husband!" cried Georgiana, deeply hurt; at first +reddening with momentary anger, but then bursting into tears. "Then why +did you take me from my mother's side? You cannot love what shocks +you!" + +To explain this conversation, it must be mentioned that in the centre +of Georgiana's left cheek there was a singular mark, deeply interwoven, +as it were, with the texture and substance of her face. In the usual +state of her complexion—a healthy though delicate bloom—the mark wore a +tint of deeper crimson, which imperfectly defined its shape amid the +surrounding rosiness. When she blushed it gradually became more +indistinct, and finally vanished amid the triumphant rush of blood that +bathed the whole cheek with its brilliant glow. But if any shifting +emotion caused her to turn pale, there was the mark again, a crimson +stain upon the snow, in what Aylmer sometimes deemed an almost fearful +distinctness. Its shape bore not a little similarity to the human hand, +though of the smallest pygmy size. Georgiana's lovers were wont to say +that some fairy at her birth-hour had laid her tiny hand upon the +infant's cheek, and left this impress there in token of the magic +endowments that were to give her such sway over all hearts. Many a +desperate swain would have risked life for the privilege of pressing +his lips to the mysterious hand. It must not be concealed, however, +that the impression wrought by this fairy sign-manual varied +exceedingly according to the difference of temperament in the +beholders. Some fastidious persons—but they were exclusively of her own +sex—affirmed that the bloody hand, as they chose to call it, quite +destroyed the effect of Georgiana's beauty and rendered her countenance +even hideous. But it would be as reasonable to say that one of those +small blue stains which sometimes occur in the purest statuary marble +would convert the Eve of Powers[2] to a monster. Masculine observers, +if the birthmark did not heighten their admiration, contented +themselves with wishing it away, that the world might possess one +living specimen of ideal loveliness without the semblance of a flaw. +After his marriage,—for he thought little or nothing of the matter +before,—Aylmer discovered that this was the case with himself. + +Had she been less beautiful,—if Envy's self could have found aught else +to sneer at,—he might have felt his affection heightened by the +prettiness of this mimic hand, now vaguely portrayed, now lost, now +stealing forth again and glimmering to and fro with every pulse of +emotion that throbbed within her heart; but, seeing her otherwise so +perfect, he found this one defect grow more and more intolerable with +every moment of their united lives. It was the fatal flaw of humanity +which Nature, in one shape or another, stamps ineffaceably on all her +productions, either to imply that they are temporary and finite, or +that their perfection must be wrought by toil and pain. The crimson +hand expressed the ineludible gripe in which mortality clutches the +highest and purest of earthly mould, degrading them into kindred with +the lowest, and even with the very brutes, like whom their visible +frames return to dust. In this manner, selecting it as the symbol of +his wife's liability to sin, sorrow, decay, and death, Aylmer's sombre +imagination was not long in rendering the birthmark a frightful object, +causing him more trouble and horror than ever Georgiana's beauty, +whether of soul or sense, had given him delight. + +At all the seasons which should have been their happiest he invariably, +and without intending it, nay, in spite of a purpose to the contrary, +reverted to this one disastrous topic. Trifling as it at first +appeared, it so connected itself with innumerable trains of thought and +modes of feeling that it became the central point of all. With the +morning twilight Aylmer opened his eyes upon his wife's face and +recognized the symbol of imperfection, and when they sat together at +the evening hearth his eyes wandered stealthily to her cheek, and +beheld, flickering with the blaze of the wood-fire, the spectral hand +that wrote mortality where he would fain have worshipped, Georgiana +soon learned to shudder at his gaze. It needed but a glance with the +peculiar expression that his face often wore to change the roses of her +cheek into a deathlike paleness, amid which the crimson hand was +brought strongly out, like a bas-relief of ruby on the whitest marble. + +Late one night, when the lights were growing dim so as hardly to betray +the stain on the poor wife's cheek, she herself, for the first time, +voluntarily took up the subject. + +"Do you remember, my dear Aylmer," said she, with a feeble attempt at a +smile, "have you any recollection of a dream last night about this +odious hand?" + +"None! none whatever!" replied Aylmer, starting: but then he added, in +a dry, cold tone, affected for the sake of concealing the real depth of +his emotion, "I might well dream of it; for, before I fell asleep, it +had taken a pretty firm hold of my fancy." + +"And you did dream of it?" continued Georgiana, hastily; for she +dreaded lest a gush of tears should interrupt what she had to say. "A +terrible dream! I wonder that you can forget it. Is it possible to +forget this one expression?—'It is in her heart now; we must have it +out!' Reflect, my husband; for by all means I would have you recall +that dream." + +The mind is in a sad state when Sleep, the all-involving, cannot +confine her spectres within the dim region of her sway, but suffers +them to break forth, affrighting this actual life with secrets that +perchance belong to a deeper one. Aylmer now remembered his dream. He +had fancied himself with his servant Aminadab attempting an operation +for the removal of the birthmark; but the deeper went the knife, the +deeper sank the hand, until at length its tiny grasp appeared to have +caught hold of Georgiana's heart; whence, however, her husband was +inexorably resolved to cut or wrench it away. + +When the dream had shaped itself perfectly in his memory, Aylmer sat in +his wife's presence with a guilty feeling. Truth often finds its way to +the mind close muffled in robes of sleep, and then speaks with +uncompromising directness of matters in regard to which we practice an +unconscious self-deception during our waking moments. Until now he had +not been aware of the tyrannizing influence acquired by one idea over +his mind, and of the lengths which he might find in his heart to go for +the sake of giving himself peace. + +"Aylmer," resumed Georgiana, solemnly, "I know not what may be the cost +to both of us to rid me of this fatal birthmark. Perhaps its removal +may cause cureless deformity; or it may be the stain goes as deep as +life itself. Again; do we know that there is a possibility, on any +terms, of unclasping the firm gripe of this little hand which was laid +upon me before I came into the world?" + +"Dearest Georgiana, I have spent much thought upon the subject," +hastily interrupted Aylmer. "I am convinced of the perfect +practicability of its removal." + +"If there be the remotest possibility of it," continued Georgiana, "let +the attempt be made, at whatever risk. Danger is nothing to rue; for +life, while this hateful mark makes me the object of your horror and +disgust,—life is a burden which I would fling down with joy. Either +remove this dreadful hand, or take my wretched life! You have deep +science. All the world bears witness of it. You have achieved great +wonders. Cannot you remove this little, little mark, which I cover with +the tips of two small fingers? Is this beyond your power, for the sake +of your own peace, and to save your poor wife from madness?" + +"Noblest, dearest, tenderest wife," cried Aylmer, rapturously, "doubt +not my power. I have already given this matter the deepest +thought,—thought which might almost have enlightened me to create a +being less perfect than yourself. Georgiana, you have led me deeper +than ever into the heart of science. I feel myself fully competent to +render this dear cheek as faultless as its fellow; and then, most +beloved, what will be my triumph when I shall have corrected what +Nature left imperfect in her fairest work! Even Pygmalion[3], when his +sculptured woman assumed life, felt not greater ecstasy than mine will +be." + +"It is resolved, then," said Georgiana, faintly smiling. "And, Aylmer, +spare me not, though you should find the birthmark take refuge in my +heart at last." + +Her husband tenderly kissed her cheek,—her right cheek,—not that which +bore the impress of the crimson hand. + +The next day Aylmer apprised his wife of a plan that he had formed +whereby he might have opportunity for the intense thought and constant +watchfulness which the proposed operation would require, while +Georgiana, likewise, would enjoy the perfect repose essential to its +success. They were to seclude themselves in the extensive apartments +occupied by Aylmer as a laboratory, and where, during his toilsome +youth, he had made discoveries in the elemental powers of nature that +had roused the admiration of all the learned societies in Europe. +Seated calmly in this laboratory, the pale philosopher had investigated +the secrets of the highest cloud-region and of the profoundest mines; +he had satisfied himself of the causes that kindled and kept alive the +fires of the volcano; and had explained the mystery of fountains, and +how it is that they gush forth, some so bright and pure, and others +with such rich medicinal virtues, from the dark bosom of the earth. +Here, too, at an earlier period, he had studied the wonders of the +human frame, and attempted to fathom the very process by which Nature +assimilates all her precious influences from earth and air, and from +the spiritual world, to create and foster man, her masterpiece. The +latter pursuit, however, Aylmer had long laid aside in unwilling +recognition of the truth—against which all seekers sooner or later +stumble—that our great creative Mother, while she amuses us with +apparently working in the broadest sunshine, is yet severely careful to +keep her own secrets, and, in spite of her pretended openness, shows us +nothing but results. She permits us, indeed, to mar, but seldom to +mend, and, like a jealous patentee, on no account to make. Now, +however, Aylmer resumed these half-forgotten investigations; not, of +course, with such hopes or wishes as first suggested them; but because +they involved much physiological truth and lay in the path of his +proposed scheme for the treatment of Georgiana. + +As he led her over the threshold of the laboratory Georgiana was cold +and tremulous. Aylmer looked cheerfully into her face, with intent to +reassure her, but was so startled with the intense glow of the +birthmark upon the whiteness of her cheek that he could not restrain a +strong convulsive shudder. His wife fainted. + +"Aminadab! Aminadab!" shouted Aylmer, stamping violently on the floor. + +Forthwith there issued from an inner apartment a man of low stature, +but bulky frame, with shaggy hair hanging about his visage, which was +grimed with the vapors of the furnace. This personage had been Aylmer's +under-worker during his whole scientific career, and was admirably +fitted for that office by his great mechanical readiness, and the skill +with which, while incapable of comprehending a single principle, he +executed all the details of his master's experiments. With his vast +strength, his shaggy hair, his smoky aspect, and the indescribable +earthiness that incrusted him, he seemed to represent man's physical +nature; while Aylmer's slender figure, and pale, intellectual face, +were no less apt a type of the spiritual element. + +"Throw open the door of the boudoir, Aminadab," said Aylmer, "and burn +a pastil." + +"Yes, master," answered Aminadab, looking intently at the lifeless form +of Georgiana; and then he muttered to himself, "If she were my wife, +I'd never part with that birthmark." + +When Georgiana recovered consciousness she found herself breathing an +atmosphere of penetrating fragrance, the gentle potency of which had +recalled her from her deathlike faintness. The scene around her looked +like enchantment. Aylmer had converted those smoky, dingy, sombre +rooms, where he had spent his brightest years in recondite[4] pursuits, +into a series of beautiful apartments not unfit to be the secluded +abode of a lovely woman. The walls were hung with gorgeous curtains, +which imparted the combination of grandeur and grace that no other +species of adornment can achieve; and, as they fell from the ceiling to +the floor, their rich and ponderous folds, concealing all angles and +straight lines, appeared to shut in the scene from infinite space. For +aught Georgiana knew, it might be a pavilion among the clouds. And +Alymer, excluding the sunshine, which would have interfered with his +chemical processes, had supplied its place with perfumed lamps, +emitting flames of various hue, but all uniting in a soft, impurpled +radiance. He now knelt by his wife's side, watching her earnestly, but +without alarm; for he was confident in his science, and felt that he +could draw a magic circle round her within which no evil might intrude. + +"Where am I? Ah, I remember," said Georgiana, faintly; and she placed +her hand over her cheek to hide the terrible mark from her husband's +eyes. + +"Fear not, dearest!" exclaimed he. "Do not shrink from me! Believe me, +Georgiana, I even rejoice in this single imperfection, since it will be +such a rapture to remove it." + +"O, spare me!" sadly replied his wife. "Pray do not look at it again. I +never can forget that convulsive shudder." + +In order to soothe Georgiana, and, as it were, to release her mind from +the burden of actual things, Aylmer now put in practice some of the +light and playful secrets which science had taught him among its +profounder lore. Airy figures, absolutely bodiless ideas, and forms of +unsubstantial beauty came and danced before her, imprinting their +momentary footsteps on beams of light. Though she had some indistinct +idea of the method of these optical phenomena, still the illusion was +almost perfect enough to warrant the belief that her husband possessed +sway over the spiritual world. Then again, when she felt a wish to look +forth from her seclusion, immediately, as if her thoughts were +answered, the procession of external existence flitted across a screen. +The scenery and the figures of actual life were perfectly represented, +but with that bewitching yet indescribable difference which always +makes a picture, an image, or a shadow so much more attractive than the +original. When wearied of this, Aylmer bade her cast her eyes upon a +vessel containing a quantity of earth. She did so with little interest +at first; but was soon startled to perceive the germ of a plant +shooting upward from the soil: Then came the slender stalk; the leaves +gradually unfolded themselves; and amid them was a perfect and lovely +flower. + +"It is magical!" cried Georgiana. "I dare not touch it." + +"Nay, pluck it," answered Aylmer,—"pluck it, and inhale its brief +perfume while you may. The flower will wither in a few moments and +leave nothing save its brown seed-vessels; but thence may be +perpetuated a race as ephemeral as itself." + +But Georgiana had no sooner touched the flower than the whole plant +suffered a blight, its leaves turning coal black as if by the agency of +fire. + +"There was too powerful a stimulus," said Aylmer, thoughtfully. + +To make up for this abortive experiment, he proposed to take her +portrait by a scientific process of his own invention. It was to be +effected by rays of light striking upon a polished plate of metal. +Georgiana assented; but, on looking at the result, was affrighted to +find the features of the portrait blurred and indefinable; while the +minute figure of a hand appeared where the cheek should have been. +Alymer snatched the metallic plate and threw it into a jar of +corrosive[5] acid. + +Soon, however, he forgot these mortifying failures. In the intervals of +study and chemical experiment he came to her flushed and exhausted, but +seemed invigorated by her presence, and spoke in glowing language of +the resources of his art. He gave a history of the long dynasty of the +alchemists, who spent so many ages in quest of the universal solvent by +which the golden principle might be elicited from all things vile and +base, Aylmer appeared to believe that, by the plainest scientific +logic, it was altogether within the limits of possibility to discover +this long-sought medium. "But," he added, "a philosopher who should go +deep enough to acquire the power would attain too lofty a wisdom to +stoop to the exercise of it." Not less singular were his opinions in +regard to the elixir vitae[6]. He more than intimated that it was at +his option to concoct a liquid that should prolong life for years, +perhaps interminably; but that it would produce a discord in nature +which all the world, and chiefly the quaffer of the immortal nostrum, +would find cause to curse. + +"Aylmer, are you in earnest?" asked Georgiana, looking at him with +amazement and fear. "It is terrible to possess such power, or even to +dream of possessing it." + +"O, do not tremble, my love," said her husband. "I would not wrong +either you or myself by working such inharmonious effects upon our +lives; but I would have you consider how trifling, in comparison, is +the skill requisite to remove this little hand." + +At the mention of the birthmark, Georgiana, as usual, shrank as if a +red-hot iron had touched her cheek. + +Again Aylmer applied himself to his labors. She could hear his voice in +the distant furnace-room giving directions to Aminadab, whose harsh, +uncouth, misshapen tones were audible in response, more like the grunt +or growl of a brute than human speech. After hours of absence, Aylmer +reappeared and proposed that she should now examine his cabinet of +chemical products and natural treasures of the earth. Among the former +he showed her a small vial, in which, he remarked, was contained a +gentle yet most powerful fragrance, capable of impregnating all the +breezes that blow across a kingdom. They were of inestimable value, the +contents of that little vial; and, as he said so, he threw some of the +perfume into the air and filled the room with piercing and invigorating +delight. + +"And what is this?" asked Georgiana, pointing to a small crystal globe +containing a gold-colored liquid. "It is so beautiful to the eye that I +could imagine it the elixir of life." + +"In one sense it is," replied Aylmer; "or rather, the elixir of +immortality. It is the most precious poison that ever was concocted in +this world. By its aid I could apportion the lifetime of any mortal at +whom you might point your finger. The strength of the dose would +determine whether he were to linger out years, or drop dead in the +midst of a breath. No king on his guarded throne could keep his life if +I, in my private station, should deem that the welfare of millions +justified me in depriving him of it." + +"Why do you keep such a terrific drug?" inquired Georgiana, in horror. + +"Do not mistrust me, dearest," said her husband, smiling; "its virtuous +potency is yet greater than its harmful one. But see! here is a +powerful cosmetic. With a few drops of this in a vase of water, +freckles may be washed away as easily as the hands are cleansed. A +stronger infusion[7] would take the blood out of the cheek, and leave +the rosiest beauty a pale ghost." + +"Is it with this lotion that you intend to bathe my cheek?" asked +Georgiana, anxiously. + +"O no," hastily replied her husband; "this is merely superficial. Your +case demands a remedy that shall go deeper." + +In his interviews with Georgiana, Aylmer generally made minute +inquiries as to her sensations, and whether the confinement of the +rooms and the temperature of the atmosphere agreed with her. These +questions had such a particular drift that Georgiana began to +conjecture that she was already subjected to certain physical +influences, either breathed in with the fragrant air or taken with her +food. She fancied likewise, but it might be altogether fancy, that +there was a stirring up of her system,—a strange, indefinite sensation +creeping through her veins, and tingling, half painfully, half +pleasurably, at her heart. Still, whenever she dared to look into the +mirror, there she beheld herself pale as a white rose and with the +crimson birthmark stamped upon her cheek. Not even Aylmer now hated it +so much as she. + +To dispel the tedium of the hours which her husband found it necessary +to devote to the processes of combination and analysis, Georgiana +turned over the volumes of his scientific library. In many dark old +tomes she met with chapters full of romance and poetry. They were the +works of the philosophers of the Middle Ages, such as Albertus +Magnus[8], Cornelius Agrippa[9], Paracelsus[10], and the famous friar +who created the prophetic Brazen Head. All these antique naturalists +stood in advance of their centuries, yet were imbued with some of their +credulity, and therefore were believed, and perhaps imagined themselves +to have acquired from the investigation of nature a power above nature, +and from physics a sway over the spiritual world. Hardly less curious +and imaginative were the early volumes of the Transactions of the Royal +Society[11], in which the members, knowing little of the limits of +natural possibility, were continually recording wonders or proposing +methods whereby wonders might be wrought. + +But, to Georgiana, the most engrossing volume was a large folio from +her husband's own hand, in which he had recorded every experiment of +his scientific career, its original aim, the methods adopted for its +development, and its final success or failure, with the circumstances +to which either event was attributable. The book, in truth; was both +the history and emblem of his ardent, ambitious, imaginative, yet +practical and laborious life. He handled physical details as if there +were nothing beyond them; yet spiritualized them all, and redeemed +himself from materialism by his strong and eager aspiration towards the +infinite. In his grasp the veriest clod of earth assumed a soul. +Georgiana, as she read, reverenced Aylmer and loved him more profoundly +than ever, but with a less entire dependence on his judgment than +heretofore. Much as he had accomplished, she could not but observe that +his most splendid successes were almost invariably failures, if +compared with the ideal at which he aimed. His brightest diamonds were +the merest pebbles, and felt to be so by himself, in comparison with +the inestimable gems which lay hidden beyond his reach. The volume, +rich with achievements that had won renown for its author, was yet as +melancholy a record as over mortal hand had penned. It was the sad +confession and continual exemplification of the shortcomings of the +composite man, the spirit burdened with clay and working in matter, and +of the despair that assails the higher nature at finding itself so +miserably thwarted by the earthly part. Perhaps every man of genius, in +whatever sphere, might recognize the image of his own experience in +Aylmer's journal. + +So deeply did these reflections affect Georgiana that she laid her face +upon the open volume and burst into tears. In this situation she was +found by her husband. + +"It is dangerous to read in a sorcerer's books," said he with a smile, +though his countenance was uneasy and displeased. "Georgiana, there are +pages in that volume which I can scarcely glance over and keep my +senses. Take heed lest it prove as detrimental to you." + +"It has made me worship you more than ever." said she. + +"Ah, wait for this one success," rejoined he, "then worship me if you +will. I shall deem myself hardly unworthy of it. But come. I have +sought you for the luxury of your voice. Sing to me, dearest." + +So she poured out the liquid music of her voice to quench the thirst of +his spirit. He then took his leave with a boyish exuberance of gayety, +assuring her that her seclusion would endure but a little longer, and +that the result was already certain. Scarcely had he departed when +Georgiana felt irresistibly impelled to follow him. She had forgotten +to inform Aylmer of a symptom which for two or three hours past had +begun to excite her attention. It was a sensation in the fatal +birthmark, not painful, but which induced a restlessness throughout her +system. Hastening after her husband, she intruded for the first time +into the laboratory. + +The first thing that struck her eye was the furnace, that hot and +feverish worker, with the intense glow of its fire, which by the +quantities of soot clustered above it seemed to have been burning for +ages. There was a distilling-apparatus in full operation. Around the +room were retorts, tubes, cylinders, crucibles, and other apparatus of +chemical research. An electrical machine stood ready for immediate use. +The atmosphere felt oppressively close, and was tainted with gaseous +odors which had been tormented forth by the processes of science. The +severe and homely simplicity of the apartment, with its naked walls and +brick pavement, looked strange, accustomed as Georgiana had become to +the fantastic elegance of her boudoir. But what chiefly, indeed almost +solely, drew her attention, was the aspect of Aylmer himself. + +He was pale as death, anxious and absorbed, and hung over the furnace +as if it depended upon his utmost watchfulness whether the liquid which +it was distilling should be the draught of immortal happiness or +misery. How different from the sanguine and joyous mien that he had +assumed for Georgiana's encouragement! + +"Carefully now, Aminadab; carefully, thou human machine; carefully, +thou man of clay," muttered Aylmer, more to himself than his assistant. +"Now, If there be a thought too much or too little, it is all over." + +"Ho! ho!" mumbled Aminadab. "Look, master! look!" + +Aylmer raised his eyes hastily, and at first reddened, then grew paler +than ever, on beholding Georgiana. He rushed towards her and seized her +arm with a gripe that left the print of his fingers upon it. + +"Why do you come thither? Have you no trust in your husband?" cried he, +impetuously. "Would you throw the blight of that fatal birthmark over +my labors? It is not well done. Go, prying woman! go!" + +"Nay, Aylmer," said Georgiana with the firmness of which she possessed +no stinted endowment, "it is not you that have a right to complain. You +mistrust your wife; you have concealed the anxiety with which you watch +the development of this experiment. Think not so unworthily of me, my +husband. Tell me all the risk we run, and fear not that I shall shrink: +for my share in it is far less than your own." + +"No, no, Georgiana!" said Aylmer, impatiently; "it must not be." + +"I submit," replied she, calmly. "And, Aylmer, I shall quaff whatever +draught you bring me; but it will be on the same principle that would +induce me to take a dose of poison if offered by your hand." + +"My noble wife," said Aylmer, deeply moved, "I knew not the height and +depth of your nature until now. Nothing shall be concealed. Know, then, +that this crimson hand, superficial as it seems, has clutched its grasp +into your being with a strength of which I had no previous conception. +I have already administered agents powerful enough to do aught except +to change your entire physical system. Only one thing remains to be +tried. If that fail us we are ruined." + +"Why did you hesitate to tell me this?" asked she. + +"Because, Georgiana," said Aylmer, in a low voice, "there is danger." + +"Danger? There is but one danger,—that this horrible stigma shall be +left upon my cheek!" cried Georgiana. "Remove it, remove it, whatever +be the cost, or we shall both go mad!" + +"Heaven knows your words are too true," said Aylmer, sadly. "And now, +dearest, return to your boudoir. In a little while all will be tested." + +He conducted her back and took leave of her with a solemn tenderness +which spoke far more than his words how much was now at stake. After +his departure Georgiana became rapt in musings. She considered the +character of Aylmer, and did it completer justice than at any previous +moment. Her heart exulted, while it trembled, at his honorable love,—so +pure and lofty that it would accept nothing less than perfection, nor +miserably make itself contented with an earthlier nature than he had +dreamed of. She felt how much more precious was such a sentiment than +that meaner kind which would have borne with the imperfection for her +sake, and have been guilty of treason to holy love by degrading its +perfect idea to the level of the actual; and with her whole spirit she +prayed that, for a single moment, she might satisfy his highest and +deepest conception. Longer than one moment she well knew it could not +be; for his spirit was ever on the march, ever ascending, and each +instant required something that was beyond the scope of the instant +before. + +The sound of her husband's footsteps aroused her. He bore a crystal +goblet containing a liquor colorless as water, but bright enough to be +the draught of immortality. Aylmer was pale; but it seemed rather the +consequence of a highly wrought state of mind and tension of spirit +than of fear or doubt. + +"The concoction of the draught has been perfect," said he, in answer to +Georgiana's look. "Unless all my science have deceived me, it cannot +fail." + +"Save on your account, my dearest Aylmer," observed his wife, "I might +wish to put off this birthmark of mortality by relinquishing mortality +itself in preference to any other mode. Life is but a sad possession to +those who have attained precisely the degree of moral advancement at +which I stand. Were I weaker and blinder, it might be happiness. Were I +stronger, it might be endured hopefully. But, being what I find myself, +methinks I am of all mortals the most fit to die." + +"You are fit for heaven without tasting death!" replied her husband. +"But why do we speak of dying? The draught cannot fail. Behold its +effect upon this plant." + +On the window-seat there stood a geranium diseased with yellow +blotches, which had overspread all its leaves. Aylmer poured a small +quantity of the liquid upon the soil in which it grew. In a little +time, when the roots of the plant had taken up the moisture, the +unsightly blotches began to be extinguished in a living verdure. + +"There needed no proof," said Georgiana, quietly. "Give me the goblet. +I joyfully stake all upon your word." + +"Drink, then, thou lofty creature!" exclaimed Aylmer, with fervid +admiration. "There is no taint of imperfection on thy spirit. Thy +sensible frame, too, shall soon be all perfect." + +She quaffed the liquid and returned the goblet to his hand. + +"It is grateful," said she, with a placid smile. "Methinks it is like +water from a heavenly fountain; for it contains I know not what of +unobtrusive fragrance and deliciousness. It allays a feverish thirst +that had parched me for many days. Now, dearest, let me sleep. My +earthly senses are closing over my spirit like the leaves around the +heart of a rose at sunset." + +She spoke the last words with a gentle reluctance, as if it required +almost more energy than she could command to pronounce the faint and +lingering syllables. Scarcely had they loitered through her lips ere +she was lost in slumber. Aylmer sat by her side, watching her aspect +with the emotions proper to a man, the whole value of whose existence +was involved in the process now to be tested. Mingled with this mood, +however, was the philosophic investigation characteristic of the man of +science. Not the minutest symptom escaped him. A heightened flush of +the cheek, a slight irregularity of breath, a quiver of the eyelid, a +hardly perceptible tremor through the frame,—such were the details +which, as the moments passed, he wrote down, in his folio volume. +Intense thought had set its stamp upon every previous page of that +volume; but the thoughts of years were all concentrated upon the last. + +While thus employed, he failed not to gaze often at the fatal hand, and +not without a shudder. Yet once, by a strange and unaccountable +impulse, he pressed it with his lips. His spirit recoiled, however, in +the very act; and Georgiana, out of the midst of her deep sleep, moved +uneasily, and murmured, as if in remonstrance. Again Aylmer resumed, +his watch. Nor was it without avail. The crimson hand, which at first +had been strongly visible upon the marble paleness of Georgiana's +cheek, now grew more faintly outlined. She remained not less pale than +ever; but the birthmark, with every breath that came and went, lost +somewhat of its former distinctness. Its presence had been awful; its +departure was more awful still. Watch the stain of the rainbow fading +out of the sky, and you will know how that mysterious symbol passed +away. + +"By Heaven! it is well-nigh gone!" said Aylmer to himself, in almost +irrepressible ecstasy. "I can scarcely trace it now. Success! success! +And now it is like the faintest rose color. The lightest flush of blood +across her cheek would overcome it. But she is so pale!" + +He drew aside the window-curtain and suffered the light of natural day +to fall into the room and rest upon her cheek. At the same time he +heard a gross, hoarse chuckle, which he had long known as his servant +Aminadab's expression of delight. + +"Ah, clod! ah, earthly mass!" cried Aylmer, laughing in a sort of +frenzy, "you have served me well! Matter and spirit—earth and +heaven—have both done their part in this! Laugh, thing of the senses! +You have earned the right to laugh." + +These exclamations broke Georgiana's sleep. She slowly unclosed her +eyes and gazed into the mirror which her husband had arranged for that +purpose. A faint smile flitted over her lips when she recognized how +barely perceptible was now that crimson hand which had once blazed +forth with such disastrous brilliancy as to scare away all their +happiness. But then her eyes sought Aylmer's face with a trouble and +anxiety that he could by no means account for. + +"My poor Aylmer!" murmured she. + +"Poor? Nay, richest, happiest, most favored!" exclaimed he. "My +peerless bride, it is successful! You are perfect!" + +"My poor Aylmer," she repeated, with a more than human tenderness, "you +have aimed loftily; you have done nobly. Do not repent that, with so +high and pure a feeling, you have rejected the best the earth could +offer. Aylmer, dearest Aylmer, I am dying!" + +Alas! it was too true! The fatal hand had grappled with the mystery of +life, and was the bond by which an angelic spirit kept itself in union +with a mortal frame. As the last crimson tint of the birthmark—that +sole token of human imperfection—faded from her cheek, the parting +breath of the now perfect woman passed into the atmosphere, and her +soul, lingering a moment, near her husband, took its heavenward flight. +Then a hoarse, chuckling laugh was heard again! Thus ever does the +gross fatality of earth exult in its invariable triumph over the +immortal essence which, in this dim sphere of half-development, demands +the completeness of a higher state. Yet, had Aylmer reached a +profounder wisdom, he need not thus have flung away the happiness which +would have woven his mortal life of the selfsame texture with the +celestial. The momentary circumstance was too strong for him; he failed +to look beyond the shadowy scope of time, and, living once for all in +eternity, to find the perfect future in the present. + +NOTES + +[1] Published in the March, 1843, number of _The Pioneer_, edited by J. +R. Lowell. Republished in _Mosses from an Old Manse_ in 1846. + +[2] 154:29 "Eve," of Powers. A noted American sculptor (1805-1873). +"Eve," "The Fisher Boy," and "America" are some of his chief works. + +[3] 168:28 Pygmalion. A sculptor and king of Cyprus. + +[4] 181:16 recondite. Abstruse or secret. + +[5] 168:27 corrosive. Destructive of tissue. + +[6] 184:12 vitae. Of life. + +[7] 166:3 infusion. The act of pouring in. + +[8] 167:1 Albertus Magnus. A famous scholastic philosopher and member +of the Dominican order (1193-1280). + +[9] 167:1 Cornelius Agrippa. A German philosopher and student of +alchemy and magic (1486-1535). + +[10] 167:1 Paracelsus. A German-Swiss physician, and alchemist +(1492-1541). + +[11] 167:10 Royal Society. An association for the advancement of +science, founded in London a little before 1660. + +BIOGRAPHY + +Nathaniel Hawthorne was born in Salem, Massachusetts, July 4, 1804. His +ancestors were prominent in the affairs of the colony: John Hawthorne +was one of the judges who tried the witches in 1620; and another John +Hawthorne was a member of the dignified school committee of Salem in +1796. Hawthorne's father, a ship captain, died in a foreign land when +his son was only four years old; his mother lived for forty years after +the death of her husband the life of a recluse in her own house. The +family's star was in the decline and the people of Salem looked on +Nathaniel as a lazy and very queer boy. He grew up in a unique +solitude. During these years of seclusion Hawthorne acquired the habit +of keeping silent on all occasions, and reading a few books frequently +and thoroughly. The _Newgate Calendar_ must have supplied him with many +subtle suggestions for his later writings on sin and crime, for in +almost all of his productions his imagination is tinged with, this old +Puritanic philosophy and theology. + +He entered Bowdoin College in 1821 and graduated from this institution +in 1825. He had as classmates Longfellow, and Franklin Pierce, who +afterward became president of the United States. After his graduation +Hawthorne returned to Salem, where he lived with his mother and sisters +in almost absolute seclusion for fourteen years. During this period he +wrote daily, and spent his nights in burning what he had written in the +daytime. + +He was clerk of the Boston Custom House from 1839 to 1841, when the +Whig party removed him for being ultra-partisan in behalf of the +Democrats. At this time Hawthorne wrote: "As to the Salem people, I +really thought I had been exceedingly good-natured in my treatment of +them. They certainly do not deserve good usage at my hands, after +permitting me to be deliberately lied down, not merely once, but at two +separate attacks, and on two false indictments, without hardly a voice +being raised in my behalf." He married Sophia Peabody, July 9, 1842. +From 1842 until 1846 they lived in Concord in the house formerly +occupied by Emerson. These were the happiest years of his life. In 1846 +he returned to Salem as surveyor in the Salem Custom House. He retired +from this office in 1850 and lived in Lenox, Massachusetts, for two +years. In 1852 he settled in Concord. President Pierce appointed him +consul at Liverpool in 1853, and he served in this position until 1857. + +After leaving Liverpool he travelled three years in England and on the +continent. He returned to Concord in 1860. He died in the White +Mountains, May 18, 1864. Although a silent man and a seeker of solitude +during his life, few writers have ever experienced such wide publicity +of their inmost lives as has Hawthorne since his death. The publication +of his _Notes_ has opened his desk and work-shop to every one, and has +revealed to us a magnanimous, sympathetic, and pure man, who realized +his responsibilities as a writer and improved all his literary +opportunities. + +BIOGRAPHICAL REFERENCES + +_History of American Literature_, Moses Coit Tyler. + +_Introduction to American Literature_, Henry S. Pancoast. + +_Studies in American Literature_, Charles Noble. + +_Introduction to American Literature_, Brander Matthews. + +"Gloom and Cheer in Hawthorne," _Critic_, 45: 28-36. + +"Hawthorne and his Circle," _Nation_, 77: 410-411. + +"Hawthorne as seen by his Publisher," _Critic_, 45: 51-55. + +"Hawthorne from an English Point of View." _Critic_, 45: 60-66. + +"Hawthorne's Last Years," _Critic_, 45: 67-71. + +"Life of Hawthorne," _Atlantic Monthly_, 90: 563-567, + +CRITICISMS + +Many influences in Hawthorne's environment served to condition and mold +him as a writer. Salem had reached its highest prosperity in all lines +and was just beginning its retrogression in Hawthorne's time; the +primeval forests of Maine produced a subtle and lasting influence on +him during his sojourn in Maine for his health; transcendentalism was +the ruling thought at the time when Hawthorne was in his most plastic +and solitary age; his interest in _Brook Farm_ brought him in contact +with all the good and bad points of that social movement; his life in +the _Old Manse_ in Concord and in the Berkshire Hills contributed +largely to the deepening of his convictions and sympathies; and over +all, like a sombre cloud, hung his ancestral Puritanic training which +penetrated and suffused all his writings. He is the most native and the +least imitative of all our fiction writers. + +Hawthorne did not write on the common subjects and facts of his day, +but chose to have his readers go with him, away from prosaic life, out +into a world of mysteries where we may revel in all kinds of imaginary +sports. By this process he succeeded in producing poetic effects from +the most unpromising materials. His writings are fanciful. He enjoyed +subjects that deal with the occult, such as mesmerism, hypnotism, and +subtle suggestions. He harked back to the rigid beliefs and laws of the +Puritans, but he and his subjects are spiritually advanced far above +the crude, ponderous, and highly theological tenets of his forefathers. + +Hawthorne is very provincial. He travelled little until he was fifty +years old. He naturally loved the antique and poetic countries, but he +always qualified his admiration of these foreign lands by praising +something in his own New England. He conceded that there was little or +nothing in this prosperous and crude country to inspire a writer to +produce poetry, but his patriotism was so strong that he could never +free himself wholly from its provincial effects. All his works were +produced in the stress created by this pull of opposing forces—his high +poetic ideals and his love of country. + +In form he tends toward the polish of a classicist; in quality and +freedom of thought he is very responsive to the mysteries of +romanticism. He is introspective in his thinking and symbolical in his +writing. Naturally he thinks abstractly, but is compelled to construct +concrete methods of presenting his ideas. He never describes a strong +emotion in detail, but delights in using suggestions and sidelights. +His pure and refined manhood, his delicate fancy and deep interest in +moral and religious questions, his conscience in its most artistic +form, all are presented to the reader in the choicest garb of well +chosen words and attuned to a subtle rhythm that adds beauty and +attractiveness to his style. + +GENERAL REFERENCES + +_Hours in a Library_, Leslie Stephen. + +_A Literary History of America_, Barrett Wendell. + +_American Literature_, William P. Trent. + +_Makers of English Fiction_, W.J. Dawson. + +_Leading American Novelists_, J. Erskine. + +_Studies and Appreciations_, L.E. Gates. + +"An Estimate," _Scribner's Magazine_, 43: 69-84. + +"Unknown Quantity in Hawthorne's Personality," _Current Literature_, +42: 517-518. + +COLLATERAL READINGS + +_Biographical Stories for Children_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_Mosses from an Old Manse_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_The Wonder Boot_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_The Blithedale Romance_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_Tanglewood Tales_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_Lady Eleanore's Mantle_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_The Great Stone Face_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_The Prophetic Pictures_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_The Necklace_, Guy de Maupassant. + +_A Solitary_, Mary Wilkins Freeman. + +_The Lady or the Tiger_, Frank R. Stockton. + +_The Strange Ride_, Rudyard Kipling. + +_Rikki-Tikki-Tavi_, Rudyard Kipling. + +_They_, Rudyard Kipling. + +_The Twelfth Guest_, Mary Wilkins Freeman. + +_The Shadows on the Wall_, Mary Wilkins Freeman. + + + + +ETHAN BRAND[1] + + +A Chapter From An Abortive Romance + + +_By Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-1864)_ + + +Bartram the lime-burner, a rough, heavy-looking man, begrimed with +charcoal, sat watching his kiln, at nightfall, while his little son +played at building houses with the scattered fragments of marble, when, +on the hillside below them, they heard a roar of laughter, not +mirthful, but slow, and even solemn, like a wind shaking the boughs of +the forest. + +"Father, what is that?" asked the little boy, leaving his play, and +pressing betwixt his father's knees. + +"O, some drunken man, I suppose," answered the lime-burner; "some merry +fellow from the bar-room in the village, who dared not laugh loud +enough within doors lest he should blow the roof of the house off. So +here he is, shaking his jolly sides at the foot of Graylock." + +"But, father," said the child, more sensitive than the obtuse, +middle-aged clown, "he does not laugh like a man that is glad. So the +noise frightens me!" + +"Don't be a fool, child!" cried his father, gruffly. "You will never +make a man, I do believe; there is too much of your mother in you. I +have known the rustling of a leaf startle you. Hark! Here comes the +merry fellow now. You shall see that there is no harm in him." + +Bartram and his little son, while they were talking thus, sat watching +the same lime-kiln that had been the scene of Ethan Brand's solitary +and meditative life, before he began his search for the Unpardonable +Sin. Many years, as we have seen, had now elapsed, since that +portentous night when the IDEA was first developed. The kiln, however, +on the mountain-side stood unimpaired, and was in nothing changed since +he had thrown his dark thoughts into the intense glow of its furnace, +and melted them, as it were, into the one thought that took possession +of his life. It was a rude, round, towerlike structure, about twenty +feet high, heavily built of rough stones, and with a hillock of earth +heaped about the larger part of its circumference; so that the blocks +and fragments of marble might be drawn by cart-loads, and thrown in at +the top. There was an opening at the bottom of the tower, like an +oven-mouth, but large enough to admit a man in a stooping posture, and +provided with a massive iron door. With the smoke and jets of flame +issuing from the chinks and crevices of this door, which seemed to give +admittance into the hillside, it resembled nothing so much as the +private entrance to the infernal regions, which the shepherds of the +Delectable Mountains[2] were accustomed to show to pilgrims. + +There are many such lime-kilns in that tract of country, for the +purpose of burning the white marble which composes a large part of the +substance of the hills. Some of them, built years ago, and long +deserted, with weeds growing in the vacant round of the interior, which +is open to the sky, and grass and wild flowers rooting themselves into +the chinks of the stones, look already like relics of antiquity, and +may yet be overspread with the lichens of centuries to come. Others, +where the lime-burner still feeds his daily and night-long fire, afford +points of interest to the wanderer among the hills, who seats himself +on a log of wood or a fragment of marble, to hold a chat with the +solitary man. It is a lonesome, and, when the character is inclined to +thought, may be an intensely thoughtful, occupation; as it proved in +the case of Ethan Brand, who had mused to such strange purpose, in days +gone by, while the fire in this very kiln was burning. + +The man who now watched the fire was of a different order, and troubled +himself with no thoughts save the very few that were requisite to his +business. At frequent intervals he flung back the clashing weight of +the iron door, and, turning his face from the insufferable glare, +thrust in huge logs of oak, or stirred the immense brands with a long +pole. Within the furnace were seen the curling and riotous flames, and +the burning marble, almost molten with the intensity of heat; while +without, the reflection of the fire quivered on the dark intricacy of +the surrounding forest, and showed in the foreground a bright and ruddy +little picture of the hut, the spring beside its door, the athletic and +coal-begrimed figure of the lime-burner, and the half-frightened child, +shrinking into the protection of his father's shadow. And when again +the iron door was closed, then reappeared the tender light of the +half-full moon, which vainly strove to trace out the indistinct shapes +of the neighboring mountains; and, in the upper sky, there was a +flitting congregation of clouds, still faintly tinged with the rosy +sunset, though thus far down into the valley the sunshine had vanished +long and long ago. + +The little boy now crept still closer to his father, as footsteps were +heard ascending the hillside, and a human form thrust aside the bushes +that clustered beneath the trees. + +"Halloo! who is it?" cried the lime-burner, vexed at his son's +timidity, yet half infected by it, "Come forward, and show yourself, +like a man, or I'll fling this chunk of marble at your head !" + +"You offer me a rough welcome," said a gloomy voice, as the unknown man +drew nigh. "Yet I neither claim nor desire a kinder one, even at my own +fireside." + +To obtain a distincter view, Bartram threw open the iron door of the +kiln, whence immediately issued a gush of fierce light, that smote full +upon the stranger's face and figure. To a careless eye there appeared +nothing very remarkable in his aspect, which was that of a man in a +coarse, brown, country-made suit of clothes, tall and thin, with the +staff and heavy shoes of a wayfarer. As he advanced, he fixed his +eyes—which were very bright—intently upon the brightness of the +furnace, as if he beheld, or expected to behold, some object worthy of +note within it. + +"Good evening, stranger," said the lime-burner; "whence come you, so +late in the day?" + +"I come from my search," answered the wayfarer; "for, at last, it is +finished." + +"Drunk!—or crazy!" muttered Bartram to himself. "I shall have trouble +with the fellow. The sooner I drive him away, the better." + +The little boy, all in a tremble, whispered to his father, and begged +him to shut the door of the kiln, so that there might not be so much +light; for that there was something in the man's face which he was +afraid to look at, yet could not look away from. And, indeed, even the +lime-burner's dull and torpid sense began to be impressed by an +indescribable something in that thin, rugged, thoughtful visage, with +the grizzled hair hanging wildly about it, and those deeply sunken +eyes, which gleamed like fires within the entrance of a mysterious +cavern. But, as he closed the door, the stranger turned towards him, +and spoke in a quiet, familiar way, that made Bartram feel as if he +were a sane and sensible man, after all. + +"Your task draws to an end, I see," said he. "This marble has already +been burning three days. A few hours more will convert the stone to +lime." + +"Why, who are you?" exclaimed the lime-burner. "You seem as well +acquainted with my business as I am myself." + +"And well I may be," said the stranger; "for I followed the same craft +many a long year, and here, too, on this very spot. But you are a +newcomer in these parts. Did you never hear of Ethan Brand?" + +"The man that went in search of the Unpardonable Sin?" asked Bartram, +with a laugh. + +"The same," answered the stranger. "He has found what he sought, and +therefore he comes back again," + +"What! then you are Ethan Brand himself?" cried the lime-burner, in +amazement. "I am a newcomer here, as you say, and they call it eighteen +years since you left the foot of Graylock, But, I can tell you, the +good folks still talk about Ethan Brand, in the village yonder, and +what a strange errand took him away from his lime-kiln. Well and so you +have found the Unpardonable Sin?" + +"Even so!" said the stranger, calmly. + +"If the 'question is a fair one." proceeded Bartrarn, "where might it +be?" + +Ethan Brand laid his finger on his own heart.' + +"Here!" replied he. + +And then, without mirth in his countenance, but as if moved by an +involuntary recognition of the infinite absurdity of seeking throughout +the world for what was the closest of all things to himself, and +looking into every heart, save his own, for what was hidden in no other +breast, he broke into a laugh of scorn. It was the same slow, heavy +laugh that had almost appalled the lime-burner when it heralded the +wayfarer's approach. + +The solitary mountain side was made dismal by it. Laughter, when out of +place, mistimed, or bursting forth from a disordered state of feeling, +may be the most terrible modulation of the human voice. The laughter of +one asleep, even if it be a little child,—the madman's laugh,—the wild, +screaming laugh of a born idiot,—are sounds that we sometimes tremble +to hear, and would always willingly forget. Poets have imagined no +utterance of fiends Or hobgoblins so fearfully appropriate as a laugh. +And even the obtuse lime-burner felt his nerves shaken, as this strange +man looked inward at his own heart, and burst into laughter that rolled +away into the night, and was indistinctly reverberated among the hills. + +"Joe," said he to his little son, "scamper down to the tavern in the +village, and tell the jolly fellows there that Ethan Brand has come +back, and that he has found the Unpardonable Sin!" + +The boy darted away on his errand, to which Ethan Brand made no +objection, nor seemed hardly to notice it. He sat on a log of wood, +looking steadfastly at the iron door of the kiln. When the child was +out of sight, and his swift and light footsteps ceased to be heard +treading first on the fallen leaves and then on the rocky mountain +path, the lime-burner began to regret his departure. He felt that the +little fellow's presence had been a barrier between his guest and +himself, and that he must now deal, heart to heart, with a man who, on +his own confession, had committed the one only crime for which Heaven +could afford no mercy. That crime, in its indistinct blackness, seemed +to overshadow him. The lime-burner's own sins rose up within him, and +made his memory riotous with a throng of evil shapes that asserted +their kindred with the Master Sin, whatever it might be, which it was +within the scope of man's corrupted nature to conceive and cherish. +They were all of one family; they went to and fro between his breast +and Ethan Brand's, and carried dark greetings from one to the other. + +Then Bartram remembered the stories which had grown traditionary in +reference to this strange man, who had come upon him like a shadow of +the night, and was making himself at home in his old place, after so +long absence that the dead people, dead and buried for years, would +have had more right to be at home, in any familiar spot, than he. Ethan +Brand, it was said, had conversed with Satan himself in the lurid blaze +of this very kiln. The legend had been matter of mirth heretofore, but +looked grisly now. According to this tale, before Ethan Brand departed +on his search, he had been accustomed to evoke a fiend from the hot +furnace of the lime-kiln, night after night, in order to confer with +him about the Unpardonable Sin; the man and the fiend each laboring to +frame the image of some mode of guilt which could neither be atoned for +nor forgiven. And, with the first gleam of light upon the mountain-top, +the fiend crept in at the iron door, there to abide the intensest +element of fire, until again summoned forth to share in the dreadful +task of extending man's possible guilt beyond the scope of Heaven's +else infinite mercy. + +While the lime-burner was struggling with the horror of these thoughts, +Ethan Brand rose from the log, and flung open the door of the kiln. The +action was in such accordance with the idea in Bartram's mind, that he +almost expected to see the Evil One issue forth, red-hot from the +raging furnace. + +"Hold! hold!" cried he, with a tremulous attempt to laugh; for he was +ashamed of his fears, although they overmastered him. "Don't, for +mercy's sake, bring out your Devil now!" + +"Man!" sternly replied Ethan Brand, "what need have I of the Devil? I +have left him behind me, on my track. It is with such halfway sinners +as you that he busies himself. Fear not, because I open the door. I do +but act by old custom, and am going to trim your fire, like a +lime-burner, as I was once." + +He stirred the vast coals, thrust in more wood, and bent forward to +gaze into the hollow prison-house of the fire, regardless of the fierce +glow that reddened upon his face. The lime-burner sat watching him, and +half suspected his strange guest of a purpose, if not to evoke a fiend, +at least to plunge bodily into the flames, and thus vanish from the +sight of man. Ethan Brand, however, drew quietly back, and closed the +door of the kiln. + +"I have looked," said he, "into many a human heart that was seven times +hotter with sinful passions than yonder furnace is with fire. But I +found not there what I sought. No, not the Unpardonable Sin!" + +"What is the Unpardonable Sin?" asked the lime-burner; and then he +shrank farther from his companion, trembling lest his question should +be answered. + +"It is a sin that grew within my own breast," replied Ethan Brand, +standing erect, with a pride that distinguishes all enthusiasts of his +stamp. "A sin that grew nowhere else! The sin of an intellect that +triumphed over the sense of brotherhood with man and reverence for God, +and sacrificed everything to its own mighty claims! the only sin that +deserves a recompense of immortal agony! Freely, were it to do again, +would I incur the guilt. Unshrinkingly I accept the retribution!" + +"The man's head is turned," muttered the lime-burner to himself. "He +may be a sinner, like the rest of us,—nothing more likely,—but, I'll be +sworn, he is a madman too." + +Nevertheless, he felt uncomfortable at his situation, alone with Ethan +Brand on the wild mountain side, and was right glad to hear the rough +murmur of tongues, and the footsteps of what seemed a pretty numerous +party, stumbling over the stones and rustling through the under-brush. +Soon appeared the whole lazy regiment that was wont to infest the +village tavern, comprehending three or four individuals who had drunk +flip beside the bar-room fire through all the winters, and smoked their +pipes beneath the stoop through all the summers, since Ethan Brand's +departure. Laughing boisterously, and mingling all their voices +together in unceremonious talk, they now burst into the moonshine and +narrow streaks of firelight that illuminated the open space before the +lime-kiln. Bartram set the door ajar again, flooding the spot with +light, that the whole company might get a fair view of Ethan Brand, and +he of them. + +There, among other old acquaintances, was a once ubiquitous[3] man, now +almost extinct, but whom we were formerly sure to encounter at the +hotel of every thriving village throughout the country. It was the +stage-agent. The present specimen of the genus was a wilted and +smoke-dried man, wrinkled and red-nosed, in a smartly cut, brown, +bob-tailed coat, with brass buttons, who, for a length of time unknown, +had kept his desk and corner in the bar-room, and was still puffing +what seemed to be the same cigar that he had lighted twenty years +before. He had great fame as a dry joker, though, perhaps, less on +account of any intrinsic humor than from a certain flavor of brandy +toddy and tobacco smoke, which impregnated all his ideas and +expressions, as well as his person. Another well-remembered though +strangely altered face was that of Lawyer Giles, as people still called +him in courtesy; an elderly ragamuffin, in his soiled shirt-sleeves and +tow-cloth trousers. This poor fellow had been an attorney, in what he +called his better days, a sharp practitioner, and in great vogue among +the village litigants; but flip, and sling, and toddy, and cocktails, +imbibed at all hours, morning, noon, and night, had caused him to slide +from intellectual to various kinds and degrees of bodily labor, till, +at last, to adopt his own phrase, he slid into a soap vat. In other +words, Giles was now a soap boiler, in a small way. He had come to be +but the fragment of a human being, a part of one foot having been +chopped off by an axe, and an entire hand torn away by the devilish +grip of a steam engine. Yet, though the corporeal hand was gone, a +spiritual member remained; for, stretching forth the stump, Giles +steadfastly averred that he felt an invisible thumb and fingers with as +vivid a sensation as before the real ones were amputated. A maimed and +miserable wretch he was; but one, nevertheless, whom the world could +not trample on, and had no right to scorn, either in this or any +previous stage of his misfortunes, since he had still kept up the +courage and spirit of a man, asked nothing in charity, and with his one +hand—and that the left one—fought a stern battle against want and +hostile circumstances. + +Among the throng, too, came another personage, who, with certain points +of similarity to Lawyer Giles, had many more of difference. It was the +village doctor; a man of some fifty years, whom, at an earlier period +of his life, we introduced as paying a professional visit to Ethan +Brand during the latter's supposed insanity. He was now a +purple-visaged, rude, and brutal, yet half-gentlemanly figure, with +something wild, ruined, and desperate in his talk, and in all the +details of his gesture and manners. Brandy possessed this man like an +evil spirit, and made him as surly and savage as a wild beast, and as +miserable as a lost soul; but there was supposed to be in him such +wonderful skill, such native gifts of healing, beyond any which medical +science could impart, that society caught hold of him, and would not +let him sink out of its reach. So, swaying to and fro upon his horse, +and grumbling thick accents at the bedside, he visited all the sick +chambers for miles about among the mountain towns, and sometimes raised +a dying man, as it were, by miracle, or quite as often, no doubt, sent +his patient to a grave that was dug many a year too soon. The doctor +had an everlasting pipe in his mouth, and, as somebody said, in +allusion to his habit of swearing, it was always alight with hell-fire. + +These three worthies pressed forward, and greeted Ethan Brand each +after his own fashion, earnestly inviting him to partake of the +contents of a certain black bottle, in which, as they averred, he would +find something far better worth seeking for than the Unpardonable Sin. +No mind, which has wrought itself by intense and solitary meditation +into a high state of enthusiasm, can endure the kind of contact with +low and vulgar modes of thought and feeling to which Ethan Brand was +now subjected. It made him doubt—and, strange to say, it was a painful +doubt,—whether he had indeed found the Unpardonable Sin and found it +within himself. The whole question on which he had exhausted life, and +more than life, looked like a delusion. + +"Leave me," he said bitterly, "ye brute beasts, that have made +yourselves so, shrivelling up your souls with fiery liquors! I have +done with you. Years and years ago, I groped into your hearts, and +found nothing there for my purpose. Get ye gone!" + +"Why, you uncivil scoundrel," cried the fierce doctor, "is that the way +you respond to the kindness of your best friends? Then let me tell you +the truth. You have no more found the Unpardonable Sin than yonder boy +Joe has. You are but a crazy fellow,—I told you so twenty years +ago,—neither better nor worse than a crazy fellow, and a fit companion +of old Humphrey, here!" + +He pointed to an old man, shabbily dressed, with long white hair, thin +visage, and unsteady eyes. For some years past this aged person had +been wandering about among the hills, inquiring of all travellers whom +he met for his daughter. The girl, it seemed, had gone off with a +company of circus performers; and occasionally tidings of her came to +the village, and fine stories were told of her glittering appearance as +she rode on horseback in the ring, or performed marvellous feats on the +tight rope. + +The white-haired father now approached Ethan Brand, and gazed +unsteadily into his face. + +"They tell me you have been all over the earth," said he, wringing his +hands with earnestness. "You must have seen my daughter, for she makes +a grand figure in the world, and everybody goes to see her. Did she +send any word to her old father, or say when she was coming back?" + +Ethan Brand's eye quailed beneath the old man's. That daughter, from +whom he so earnestly desired a word of greeting, was the Esther of our +tale, the very girl whom, with such cold and remorseless purpose, Ethan +Brand had made the subject of a psychological experiment, and wasted, +absorbed, and perhaps annihilated her soul, in the process. + +"Yes," murmured he, turning away from the hoary wanderer; "it is no +delusion. There is an Unpardonable Sin!" + +While these things were passing, a merry scene was going forward in the +area of cheerful light, beside the spring and before the door of the +hut. A number of the youth of the village, young men and girls, had +hurried up the hillside, impelled by curiosity to see Ethan Brand, the +hero of so many a legend familiar to their childhood. Finding nothing, +however, very remarkable in his aspect,—nothing but a sunburnt +wayfarer, in plain garb and dusty shoes, who sat looking into the fire, +as if he fancied pictures among the coals,—these young people speedily +grew tired of observing him. As it happened, there was other amusement +at hand. An old German Jew, travelling with a diorama[4] on his back, +was passing down, the mountain road towards the village just as the +party turned aside from it, and, in hopes of eking out the profits of +the day, the showman had kept them company to the lime-kiln. + +"Come, old Dutchman," cried one of the young men, "let us see your +pictures, if you can swear they are worth looking at!" + +"O yes, Captain," answered the Jew,—whether as a matter of courtesy or +craft, he styled everybody Captain,—"I shall show you, indeed, some +very superb pictures!" + +So, placing his box in a proper position, he invited the young men and +girls to look through the glass orifices of the machine, and proceeded +to exhibit a series of the most outrageous scratchings and daubings, as +specimens of the fine arts, that ever an itinerant showman had the face +to impose upon his circle of spectators. The pictures were worn out, +moreover, tattered, full of cracks and wrinkles, dingy with tobacco +smoke, and otherwise in a most pitiable condition. Some purported to be +cities, public edifices, and ruined castles in Europe; others +represented Napoleon's battles and Nelson's sea fights; and in the +midst of these would be seen a gigantic, brown, hairy hand,—which might +have been mistaken for the Hand of Destiny, though, in truth, it was +only the showman's,—pointing its forefinger to various scenes of the +conflict, while its owner gave historical illustrations. When, with +much merriment at its abominable deficiency of merit, the exhibition +was concluded, the German bade little Joe put his head into the box. +Viewed through the magnifying glasses, the boy's round, rosy visage +assumed the strangest imaginable aspect of an immense Titanic[5] child, +the mouth grinning broadly, and the eyes and every other feature +overflowing with fun at the joke. Suddenly, however, that merry face +turned pale, and its expression changed to horror, for this easily +impressed and excitable child had become sensible that the eye of Ethan +Brand was fixed upon him through the glass. + +"You make the little man to be afraid. Captain." said the German Jew, +turning up the dark and strong outline of his visage, from his stooping +posture, "But look again, and, by chance, I shall cause you to see +somewhat that is very fine, upon my word!" + +Ethan Brand gazed into the box for an instant, and then starting back, +looked fixedly at the German. What had he seen? Nothing, apparently; +for a curious youth, who had peeped in almost at the same moment, +beheld only a vacant space of canvas. + +"I remember you now," muttered Ethan Brand to the showman. + +"Ah, Captain," whispered the Jew of Nuremburg, with a dark smile, "I +find it to be a heavy matter in my show-box,—this Unpardonable Sin! By +my faith, Captain, it has wearied my shoulders, this long day, to carry +it over the mountain." + +"Peace," answered Ethan Brand, sternly, "or get thee into the furnace +yonder!" + +The Jew's exhibition had scarcely concluded, when a great, elderly +dog—who seemed to be his own master, as no person in the company laid +claim to him—saw fit to render himself the object of public notice. +Hitherto, he had shown himself a very quiet, well-disposed old dog, +going round from one to another, and, by way of being sociable, +offering his rough head to be patted by any kindly hand that would take +so much trouble. But now, all of a sudden, this grave and venerable +quadruped, of his own mere motion, and without the slightest suggestion +from anybody else, began to run round after his tail, which, to +heighten the absurdity of the proceeding, was a great deal shorter than +it should have been. Never was seen such headlong eagerness in pursuit +of an object that could not possibly be attained; never was heard such +a tremendous outbreak of growling, snarling, barking, and snapping,—as +if one end of the ridiculous brute's body were at deadly and most +unforgivable enmity with the other. Faster and faster, round about went +the cur; and faster and still faster fled the unapproachable brevity of +his tail; and louder and fiercer grew his yells of rage and animosity; +until, utterly exhausted, and as far from the goal as ever, the foolish +old dog ceased his performance as suddenly as he had begun it. The next +moment he was as mild, quiet, sensible, and respectable in his +deportment, as when he first scraped acquaintance with the company. + +As may be supposed, the exhibition was greeted with universal laughter, +clapping of hands, and shouts of encore, to which the canine performer +responded by wagging all that there was to wag of his tail, but +appeared totally unable to repeat his very successful effort to amuse +the spectators. + +Meanwhile, Ethan Brand had resumed his seat upon the log, and moved, it +might be, by a perception of some remote analogy between his own case +and that of this self-pursuing cur, he broke into the awful laugh, +which, more than any other token, expressed the condition of his inward +being. From that moment, the merriment of the party was at an end; they +stood aghast, dreading lest the inauspicious sound should be +reverberated around the horizon, and that mountain would thunder it to +mountain, and so the horror be prolonged upon their ears. Then, +whispering one to another that it was late,—that the moon was almost +down,—that the August night was growing chill,—they hurried homewards, +leaving the lime-burner and little Joe to deal as they might with their +unwelcome guest. Save for these three human beings, the open space on +the hillside was a solitude, set in a vast gloom of forest. Beyond that +darksome verge, the firelight glimmered on the stately trunks and +almost black foliage of pines, intermixed with the lighter verdure of +sapling oaks, maples, and poplars, while here and there lay the +gigantic corpses of dead trees, decaying on the leaf-strewn soil. And +it seemed to little Joe—a timorous and imaginative child—that the +silent forest was holding, its breath, until some fearful thing should +happen. + +Ethan Brand thrust more wood into the fire, and closed the door of the +kiln; then looking over his shoulder at the lime-burner and his son, he +bade, rather than advised, them to retire to rest. + +"For myself, I cannot sleep." said he, "I have matters that it concerns +me to meditate upon. I will watch the fire, as I used to do in the old +time." + +"And call the Devil out of the furnace to keep you company, I suppose," +muttered Bartram, who had been making intimate acquaintance with the +black bottle above mentioned. "But watch, if you like, and call as many +devils as you like! For my part, I shall be all the better for a +snooze. Come, Joe!" + +As the boy followed his father into the hut, he looked back at the +wayfarer, and the tears came into his eyes, for his tender spirit had +an intuition of the bleak and terrible loneliness in which this man had +enveloped himself. + +When they had gone, Ethan Brand sat listening to the crackling of the +kindled wood, and looking at the little spirits of fire that issued +through the chinks of the door. These trifles, however, once so +familiar, had but the slightest hold of his attention, while deep +within his mind he was reviewing the gradual but marvellous change that +had been wrought upon him by the search to which he had devoted +himself. He remembered how the night dew had fallen upon him,—how the +dark forest had whispered to him,—how the stars had gleamed upon him,—a +simple and loving man, watching his fire in the years gone by, and ever +musing as it burned. He remembered with what tenderness, with what love +and sympathy for mankind, and what pity for human guilt and woe, he had +first begun to contemplate those ideas which afterwards became the +inspiration of his life; with what reverence he had then looked into +the heart of man, viewing it as a temple originally divine, and, +however desecrated, still to be held sacred by a brother; with what +awful fear he had deprecated the success of his pursuit, and prayed +that the Unpardonable Sin might never be revealed to him. Then ensued +that vast intellectual development, which, in its progress, disturbed +the counterpoise between his mind and heart. The Idea that possessed +his life had operated as a means of education; it had gone on +cultivating his powers to the highest point of which they were +susceptible; it had raised him from the level of an unlettered laborer +to stand on a starlit eminence, whither the philosophers of the earth, +laden with the lore of universities, might vainly strive to clamber +after him. So much for the intellect! But where was the heart? That, +indeed, had withered,—had contracted.—had hardened,—had perished! It +had ceased to partake of the universal throb, He had lost his hold of +the magnetic chain of humanity. He was no longer a brother-man, opening +the chambers of the dungeons of our common nature by the key of holy +sympathy, which gave him a right to share in all its secrets; he was +now a cold observer, looking on mankind as the subject of his +experiment, and, at length, converting man and woman to be his puppets, +and pulling the wires that moved them to such degrees of crime as were +demanded for his study. + +Thus Ethan Brand became a fiend. He began to be so from the moment that +his moral nature had ceased to keep the pace of improvement with his +intellect. And now, as his highest effort and inevitable +development,—as the bright and gorgeous flower, and rich, delicious +fruit of his life's labor,—he had produced the Unpardonable Sin! + +"What more have I to seek? what more to achieve?" said Ethan Brand to +himself, "My task Is done, and well done!" + +Starting from the log with a certain alacrity in his gait and ascending +the hillock of earth that was raised against the stone circumference of +the lime-kiln, he thus reached the top of the structure. It was a space +of perhaps ten feet across, from edge to edge, presenting a view of the +upper surface of the immense mass of broken marble with which the kiln +was heaped. All these innumerable blocks and fragments of marble were +red-hot and vividly on fire, sending up great spouts of blue flame, +which quivered aloft and danced madly, as within a magic circle, and +sank and rose again, with continual and multitudinous activity. As the +lonely man bent forward over this terrible body of fire, the blasting +heat smote up against his person with a breath that, it might be +supposed, would have scorched and shrivelled him up in a moment. + +Ethan Brand stood erect, and raised his arms on high. The blue flames +played upon his face, and imparted the wild and ghastly light which +alone could have suited its expression; it was that of a fiend on the +verge of plunging into his gulf of intensest torment. + +"O Mother Earth," cried he, "who art no more my Mother, and into whose +bosom this frame shall never be resolved! O mankind, whose brotherhood +I have cast off, and trampled thy great heart beneath my feet! O stars +of heaven, that shone on me of old, as if to light me onward and +upward!—farewell all, and forever. Come, deadly element of +Fire,—henceforth my familiar frame! Embrace me, as I do thee!" + +That night the sound of a fearful peal of laughter rolled heavily +through the sleep of the lime-burner and his little son; dim shapes of +horror and anguish haunted their dreams, and seemed still present in +the rude hovel, when they opened their eyes to the daylight. + +"Up, boy, up!" cried the lime-burner, staring about him. "Thank Heaven, +the night is gone, at last; and rather than pass such another, I would +watch, my lime-kiln, wide awake, for a twelvemonth. This Ethan Brand, +with his humbug of an Unpardonable Sin, has done me no such mighty +favor, in taking my place!" + +He issued from the hut, followed by little Joe, who kept fast hold, of +his father's hand. The early sunshine was already pouring its gold upon +the mountain tops; and though the valleys were still in shadow, they +smiled cheerfully in the promise of the bright day that was hastening +onward. The village, completely shut in by hills, which swelled away +gently about it, looked as if it had rested peacefully in the hollow of +the great hand of Providence. Every dwelling was distinctly visible; +the little spires of the two churches pointed upwards, and caught a +fore-glimmering of brightness from the sun-gilt skies upon their gilded +weathercocks. The tavern was astir, and the figure of the old, +smoke-dried stage-agent, cigar in mouth, was seen beneath the stoop. +Old Graylock was glorified with a golden cloud upon his head. Scattered +likewise over the breasts of the surrounding mountains, there were +heaps of hoary mist, in fantastic shapes, some of them far down into +the valley, others high up towards the summits, and still others, of +the same family of mist or cloud, hovering in the gold radiance of the +upper atmosphere. Stepping from one to another of the clouds that +rested on the hills, and thence to the loftier brotherhood that sailed +in air, it seemed almost as if a mortal man might thus ascend into the +heavenly regions. Earth was so mingled with sky that it was a day-dream +to look at it. + +To supply that charm of the familiar and homely, which Nature so +readily adopts into a scene like this, the stage-coach was rattling +down the mountain road, and the driver sounded his horn, while echo +caught up the notes, and intertwined them into a rich and varied and +elaborate harmony, of which the original performer could lay claim to +little share. The great hills played a concert among themselves, each +contributing a strain of airy sweetness. + +Little Joe's face brightened at once. + +"Dear father," cried he, skipping cheerily to and fro, "that strange +man is gone, and the sky and the mountains all seem glad of it!" + +"Yes," growled the lime-burner, with an oath, "but he has let the fire +go down, and no thanks to him if five hundred bushels of lime are not +spoiled. If I catch the fellow hereabouts again, I shall feel like +tossing him into the furnace!" + +With his long pole in his hand, he ascended to the top of the kiln. +After a moment's pause, he called to his son. + +"Come up here, Joe!" said he. + +So little Joe ran up the hillock, and stood by his father's side. The +marble was all burnt into perfect, snow-white lime. But on its surface, +in the midst of the circle,—snow-white too, and thoroughly converted +into lime,—lay a human skeleton, in the attitude of a person who, after +long toil, lies down to long repose. Within the ribs—strange to say—was +the shape of a human heart. + +"Was the fellow's heart made of marble?" cried Bartram, in some +perplexity at this phenomenon. "At any rate, it is burnt into what +looks like special good lime; and, taking all the bones together, my +kiln is half a bushel the richer for him." + +So saying, the rude lime-burner lifted his pole, and, letting it fall +upon the skeleton, the relics of Ethan Brand were crumbled into +fragments. + +NOTES + +[1] Written in 1848; published in Holden's _Dollar Magazine_ in 1851. + +[2] 182:26 Delectable Mountains. A range of mountains referred to in +Bunyan's _Pilgrim's Progress_. + +[3] 190:22 ubiquitous. Being present everywhere. + +[4] 194:29 diorama. A series of paintings arranged for exhibition. See +dictionary. + +[5] 195:30 Titanic. Characteristic of the Titans; therefore large. + +COLLATERAL READINGS + +_The Scarlet Letter_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_The House of Seven Gables_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_The Marble Faun_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_The Gray Champion_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_The Wedding Knell_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_The Great Carbuncle_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_Dr. Heidegger's Experiment_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_The Haunted Mind_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_Feathertop_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + +_Rip Van Winkle_, Washington Irving. + +_The Elixir of Life_, Honoré de Balzac. + +_The Leather Funnel_, A. Conan Doyle. + +_The Return of Imray's Ghost_, Rudyard Kipling. + +_A Gentle Ghost_, Mary Wilkins Freeman. + + + + +THE SIRE DE MALETROIT'S DOOR[1] + + +_By Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894)_ + + +Denis de Beaulieu was not yet two-and-twenty, but he counted himself a +grown man, and a very accomplished cavalier into the bargain. Lads were +early formed in that rough, warfaring epoch; and when one has been in a +pitched battle and a dozen raids, has killed one's man in an honorable +fashion, and knows a thing or two of strategy and mankind, a certain +swagger in the gait is surely to be pardoned. He had put up his horse +with due care, and supped with due deliberation; and then, in a very +agreeable frame of mind, went out to pay a visit in the gray of the +evening. It was not a very wise proceeding on the young man's part. He +would have done better to remain beside the fire or go decently to bed. +For the town was full of the troops of Burgundy and England under a +mixed command; and though Denis was there on safe-conduct, his +safe-conduct was like to serve him little on a chance encounter. + +It was September, 1429; the weather had fallen sharp; a flighty piping +wind, laden with showers, beat about the township; and the dead leaves +ran riot along the streets. Here and there a window was already lighted +up; and the noise of men-at-arms making merry over supper within came +forth in fits and was swallowed up and carried away by the wind. The +night fell swiftly: the flag of England, fluttering on the spire top, +grew ever fainter and fainter against the flying clouds—a black speck +like a swallow in the tumultuous, leaden chaos of the sky. As the night +fell the wind rose, and began to hoot under archways and roar amid the +tree-tops in the valley below the town. + +Denis de Beaulieu walked fast and was soon knocking at his friend's +door; but though he promised himself to stay only a little while and +make an early return, his welcome was so pleasant, and he found so much +to delay him, that it was already long past midnight before he said +good-by upon the threshold. The wind had fallen again in the meanwhile; +the night was as black as the grave; not a star, nor a glimmer of +moonshine, slipped through the canopy of cloud. Denis was +ill-acquainted with the intricate lanes of Chateau Landon; even by +daylight he had found some trouble in picking his way; and in this +absolute darkness he soon lost it altogether. He was certain of one +thing only—to keep mounting the hill; for his friend's house lay at the +lower end, or tail, of Chateau Landon, while the inn was up at the +head, under the great church spire. With this clew to go upon he +stumbled and groped forward, now breathing more freely in the open +places where there was a good slice of sky overhead, now feeling along +the wall in stifling closes. It is an eerie and mysterious position to +be thus submerged in opaque blackness in an almost unknown town. The +silence is terrifying in its possibilities. The touch of cold window +bars to the exploring hand startles the man like the touch of a toad; +the inequalities of the pavement shake his heart into his mouth; a +piece of denser darkness threatens an ambuscade or a chasm in the +pathway; and where the air is brighter, the houses put on strange and +bewildering appearances, as if to lead him further from his way. For +Denis, who had to regain his inn without attracting notice, there was +real danger as well as mere discomfort in the walk; and he went warily +and boldly at once, and at every corner paused to make an observation. + +He had been for some time threading a lane so narrow that he could +touch a wall with either hand, when it began to open out and go sharply +downward. Plainly this lay no longer in the direction of his inn; but +the hope of a little more light tempted him forward to reconnoitre. The +lane ended in a terrace with a bartizan[2] wall, which gave an outlook +between high houses, as out of an embrasure, into the valley lying dark +and formless several hundred feet below. Denis looked down, and could +discern a few tree-tops waving and a single speck of brightness where +the river ran across a weir. The weather was clearing up, and the sky +had lightened, so as to show the outline of the heavier clouds and the +dark margin of the hills. By the uncertain glimmer, the house on his +left hand should be a place of some pretensions; it was surmounted by +several pinnacles and turret-tops; the round stern of a chapel, with a +fringe of flying buttresses, projected boldly from the main block; and +the door was sheltered under a deep porch carved with figures and +overhung by two long gargoyles[3]. The windows of the chapel gleamed +through their intricate tracery with a light as of many tapers, and +threw out the buttresses and the peaked roof in a more intense +blackness against the sky. It was plainly the hotel of some great +family of the neighborhood; and as it reminded Denis of a town house of +his own at Bourges, he stood for some time gazing up at it and mentally +gauging the skill of the architects and the consideration of the two +families. + +There seemed to be no issue to the terrace but the lane by which he had +reached it; he could only retrace his steps, but he had gained some +notion of his whereabouts, and hoped by this means to hit the main +thoroughfare and speedily regain the inn. He was reckoning without that +chapter of accidents which was to make this night memorable above all +others in his career; for he had not gone back above a hundred yards +before he saw a light coming to meet him, and heard loud voices +speaking together in the echoing narrows of the lane. It was a party of +men-at-arms going the night round with torches. Denis assured himself +that they had all been making free with the wine bowl, and were in no +mood to be particular about safe-conducts or the niceties of chivalrous +war. It, was as like as not that they would kill him like a dog and +leave him where he fell. The situation was inspiriting but nervous. +Their own torches would conceal him from sight, he reflected; and he +hoped that they would drown the noise of his footsteps with their own +empty voices. If he were but fleet and silent, he might evade their +notice altogether. + +Unfortunately, as he turned to beat a retreat, his foot rolled upon a +pebble; he fell against the wall with an ejaculation, and his sword +rang loudly on the stones. Two or three voices demanded who went +there—some in French, some in English; but Denis made no reply, and ran +the faster down the lane. Once upon the terrace, he paused to look +back. They still kept calling after him, and just then began to double +the pace in pursuit, with a considerable clank of armor, and great +tossing of the torchlight to and fro in the narrow jaws of the passage. + +Denis cast a look around and darted into the porch. There he might +escape observation, or—if that were too much to expect—was in a capital +posture whether for parley or defence. So thinking, he drew his sword +and tried to set his back against the door. To his surprise it yielded +behind his weight; and though he turned in a moment, continued to swing +back on oiled and noiseless hinges until it stood wide open on a black +interior. When things fall out opportunely for the person concerned, he +is not apt to be critical about the how or why, his own immediate +personal convenience seeming a sufficient reason for the strangest +oddities and revolutions in our sublunary things; and so Denis, without +a moment's hesitation, stepped within and partly closed the door behind +him to conceal his place of refuge. Nothing was further from his +thoughts than to close it altogether; but for some inexplicable +reason—perhaps by a spring or a weight—the ponderous mass of oak +whipped itself out of his fingers and clanked to, with a formidable +rumble and a noise like the falling of an automatic bar. + +The round, at that very moment, debouched[4] upon the terrace and +proceeded to summon him with shouts and curses. He heard them ferreting +in the dark corners; the stock of a lance even rattled along the outer +surface of the door behind which he stood; but these gentlemen were in +too high a humor to be long delayed, and soon made off down a corkscrew +pathway which had escaped Denis' observation, and passed out of sight +and hearing along the battlements of the town. + +Denis breathed again. He gave them a few minutes' grace for fear of +accidents, and then groped about for some means of opening the door and +slipping forth again. The inner surface was quite smooth, not a handle, +not a moulding, not a projection of any sort. He got his finger nails +round the edges and pulled, but the mass was immovable. He shook it, it +was as firm as a rock, Denis de Beaulieu frowned, and gave vent to a +little noiseless whistle. What ailed the door? he wondered. Why was it +open? How came it to shut so easily and so effectually after him? There +was something obscure and underhand about all this, that was little to +the young man's fancy. It looked like a snare, and yet who could +suppose a snare in such a quiet by-street and in a house of so +prosperous and even noble an exterior? And yet—snare or no snare, +intentionally or unintentionally—here he was, prettily trapped; and for +the life of him he could see no way out of it again. The darkness began +to weigh upon him. He gave ear; all was silent without, but within and +close by he seemed to catch a faint sighing, a faint sobbing rustle, a +little stealthy creak—as though many persons were at his side, holding +themselves quite still, and governing even their respiration with the +extreme of slyness. The idea went to his vitals with a shock, and he +faced about suddenly as if to defend his life. Then, for the first +time, he became aware of a light about the level of his eyes and at +some distance in the interior of the house—a vertical thread of light, +widening toward the bottom, such as might escape between two wings of +arras over a doorway. + +To see anything was a relief to Denis; it was like a piece of solid +ground to a man laboring in a morass; his mind seized upon it with +avidity; and he stood staring at it and trying to piece together some +logical conception of his surroundings. Plainly there was a flight of +steps ascending from his own level to that of this illuminated doorway, +and indeed he thought he could make out another thread of light, as +fine as a needle and as faint as phosphorescence, which might very well +be reflected along the polished wood of a handrail. Since he had begun +to suspect that he was not alone, his heart had continued to beat with +smothering violence, and an intolerable desire for action of any sort +had possessed itself of his spirit. He was in deadly peril, he +believed. What could be more natural than to mount the staircase, lift +the curtain, and confront his difficulty at once? At least he would be +dealing with something tangible; at least he would be no longer in the +dark. He stepped slowly forward with outstretched hands, until his foot +struck the bottom step; then he rapidly scaled the stairs, stood for a +moment to compose his expression, lifted the arras and went in. + +He found himself in a large apartment of polished stone. There were +three doors, one on each of three sides, all similarly curtained with +tapestry. The fourth side was occupied by two large windows and a great +stone chimney-piece, carved with the arms of the Malétroits. Denis +recognized the bearings, and was gratified to find himself in such good +hands. The room was strongly illuminated; but it contained little +furniture except a heavy table and a chair or two; the hearth was +innocent of fire, and the pavement was but sparsely strewn with rushes +clearly many days old. + +On a high chair beside the chimney, and directly facing Denis as he +entered, sat a little old gentleman in a fur tippet. He sat with his +legs crossed and his hands folded, and a cup of spiced wine stood by +his elbow on a bracket on the wall. His countenance had a strong +masculine cast; not properly human, but such as we see in the bull, the +goat, or the domestic boar; something equivocal and wheedling, +something greedy, brutal and dangerous. The upper lip was inordinately +full, as though swollen by a blow or a toothache; and the smile, the +peaked eyebrows, and the small, strong eyes were quaintly and almost +comically evil in expression. Beautiful white hair hung straight all +round his head, like a saint's, and fell in a single curl upon the +tippet. His beard and mustache were the pink of venerable sweetness. +Age, probably in consequence of inordinate precautions, had left no +mark upon his hands; and the Malétroit hand was famous. It would be +difficult to imagine anything at once so fleshy and so delicate in +design; the taper, sensual fingers were like those of one of +Leonardo's[5] women; the fork of the thumb made a dimpled protuberance +when closed; the nails were perfectly shaped, and of a dead, surprising +whiteness. It rendered his aspect tenfold more redoubtable, that a man +with hands like these should keep them devoutly folded like a virgin +martyr—that a man with so intent and startling an expression of face +should sit patiently on his seat and contemplates people with an +unwinking stare, like a god, or a god's statue. His quiescence seemed +ironical and treacherous, it fitted so poorly with his looks. + +Such was Alain, Sire de Malétroit. + +Denis and he looked silently at each other for a second or two. + +"Pray step in," said the Sire de Malétroit. "I have been expecting you +all the evening." + +He had not risen, but he accompanied his words with a smile and a +slight but courteous inclination of the head. Partly from the smile, +partly from the strange musical murmur with which the sire prefaced his +observation, Denis felt a strong shudder of disgust go through his +marrow. And what with disgust and honest confusion of mind, he could +scarcely get words together in reply. + +"I fear," he said, "that this is a double accident. I am not the person +you suppose me. It seems you were looking for a visit; but for my part, +nothing was further from my thoughts—nothing could be more contrary to +my wishes—than this intrusion." + +"Well, well," replied the old gentleman indulgently, "here you are, +which is the main point. Seat yourself, my friend, and put yourself +entirely at your ease. We shall arrange our little affairs presently." + +Denis perceived that the matter was still complicated with some +misconception, and he hastened to continue his explanation. + +"Your door," he began. + +"About my door?" asked the other raising his peaked eyebrows. "A little +piece of ingenuity." And he shrugged his shoulders. "A hospitable +fancy! By your own account, you were not desirous of making any +acquaintance. We old people look for such reluctance now and then; when +it touches our honor, we cast about until we find some way of +overcoming it. You arrive uninvited, but believe me, very welcome." + +"You persist in error, sir," said Denis. "There can be no question +between you and me. I am a stranger in this countryside. My name is +Denis, damoiseau de Beaulieu. If you see me in your house it is only—" + +"My young friend," interrupted the other, "you will permit me to have +my own ideas on that subject. They probably differ from yours at the +present moment," he added with a leer, "but time will show which of us +is in the right." + +Denis was convinced he had to do with a lunatic. He seated himself with +a shrug, content to wait the upshot; and a pause ensued, during which +he thought he could distinguish a hurried gabbling as of a prayer from +behind the arras immediately opposite him. Sometimes there seemed to be +but one person engaged, sometimes two; and the vehemence of the voice, +low as it was, seemed to indicate either great haste or an agony of +spirit. It occurred to him that this piece of tapestry covered the +entrance to the chapel he had noticed from without. + +The old gentleman meanwhile surveyed Denis from head to foot with a +smile, and from time to time emitted little noises like a bird or a +mouse, which seemed to indicate a high degree of satisfaction. This +state of matters became rapidly insupportable; and Denis, to put an end +to it, remarked politely that the wind had gone down. + +The old gentleman fell into a fit of silent laughter, so prolonged and +violent that he became quite red in the face. Denis got upon his feet +at once, and put on his hat with a flourish. + +"Sir," he said, "if you are in your wits, you have affronted me +grossly. If you are out of them, I flatter myself I can find better +employment for my brains than to talk with lunatics. My conscience is +clear; you have made a fool of me from the first moment; you have +refused to hear my explanations; and now there is no power under God +will make me stay here any longer; and if I cannot make my way out in a +more decent fashion, I will hack your door in pieces with my sword." + +The Sire de Malétroit raised his right hand and wagged it at Denis with +the fore and little fingers extended. + +"My dear nephew," he said, "sit down." + +"Nephew!" retorted Denis, "you lie in your throat;" and he snapped his +fingers in his face. + +"Sit down, you rogue!" cried the old gentleman, in a sudden, harsh +voice like the barking of a dog. "Do you fancy," he went on, "that when +I had made my little contrivance for the door I had stopped short with +that? If you prefer to be bound hand and foot till your bones ache, +rise and try to go away. If you choose to remain a free young buck, +agreeably conversing with an old gentleman—why, sit where you are in +peace, and God be with you." + +"Do you mean, I am a prisoner?" demanded Denis. + +"I state the facts," replied the other. "I would rather leave the +conclusion to yourself." + +Denis sat down again. Externally he managed to keep pretty calm, but +within, he was now boiling with anger, now chilled with apprehension. +He no longer felt convinced that he was dealing with a madman. And if +the old gentleman was sane, what, in God's name, had he to look for? +What absurd or tragical adventure had befallen him? What countenance +was he to assume? + +While he was thus unpleasantly reflecting, the arras that overhung the +chapel door was raised, and a tall priest in his robes came forth, and, +giving a long, keen stare at Denis, said something in an undertone to +Sire de Malétroit. + +"She is in a better frame of spirit?" asked the latter. + +"She is more resigned, messire," replied the priest. + +"Now the Lord help her, she is hard to please!" sneered the old +gentleman. "A likely stripling—not ill-born—and of her own choosing, +too? Why, what more would the jade have?" + +"The situation is not usual for a young damsel," said the other, "and +somewhat trying to her blushes." + +"She should have thought of that before she began the dance! It was +none of my choosing, God knows that; but since she is in it, by our +Lady, she shall carry it to the end." And then addressing Denis, +"Monsieur de Beaulieu," he asked, "may I present you to my niece? She +has been waiting your arrival, I may say, with even greater impatience +than myself." + +Denis had resigned himself with a good grace—all he desired was to know +the worst of it as speedily as possible; so he rose at once, and bowed +in acquiescence. The Sire de Malétroit followed his example and limped, +with the assistance of the chaplain's arm, toward the chapel door. The +priest pulled aside the arras, and all three entered. The building had +considerable architectural pretensions. A light groining sprang from +six stout columns, and hung down in two rich pendants from the centre +of the vault. The place terminated behind the altar in a round end, +embossed and honeycombed with a superfluity of ornament in relief, and +pierced by many little windows shaped like stars, trefoils, or wheels. +These windows were imperfectly is glazed, so that the night air +circulated freely in the chapel. The tapers, of which there must have +been half a hundred burning on the altar, were unmercifully blown +about; and the light went through many different phases of brilliancy +and semi-eclipse. On the steps in front of the altar knelt a young girl +richly attired as a bride. A chill settled over Denis as he observed +her costume; he fought with desperate energy against the conclusion +that was being thrust upon his mind; it could not—it should not—be as +he feared. + +"Blanche," said the sire, in his most flute-like tones, "I have brought +a friend to see you, my little girl; turn round and give him your +pretty hand. It is good to be devout; but it is necessary to be polite, +my niece." + +The girl rose to her feet and turned toward the newcomers. She moved +all of a piece; and shame and exhaustion were expressed in every line +of her fresh young body; and she held her head down and kept her eyes +upon the pavement, as she came slowly forward. In the course of her +advance her eyes fell upon Denis de Beaulieu's feet—feet of which he +was justly vain, be it remarked, and wore in the most elegant +accoutrement even while travelling. She paused—started, as if his +yellow boots had conveyed some shocking meaning—and glanced, suddenly +up into the wearer's countenance. Their eyes met; shame gave place to +horror and terror in her looks; the blood left her lips, with a +piercing scream she covered her face with her hands and sank upon, the +chapel floor. + +"That is not the man!" she cried. "My uncle, that is not the man!" + +The Sire de Malétroit chirped agreeably. "Of course not," he said; "I +expected as much. It was so unfortunate you could not remember his +name." + +"Indeed," she cried, "indeed, I have never seen this person till this +moment—I have never so much as set eyes upon him—I never wish to see +him again. Sir," she said, turning to Denis, "if you are a gentleman, +you will hear me out. Have I ever seen you—have you ever seen me—before +this accursed hour?" + +"To speak for myself, I have never had that pleasure," answered the +young man. "This is the first time, messire, that I have met with your +engaging niece." + +The old gentleman shrugged his shoulders. + +"I am distressed to hear it," he said. "But it is never too late to +begin. I had little more acquaintance with my own late lady ere I +married her; which proves," he added, with a grimace, "that these +impromptu marriages may often produce an excellent understanding in the +long run. As the bridegroom is to have a voice in the matter, I will +give him two hours to make up for lost time before we proceed with the +ceremony." And he turned toward the door, followed by the clergyman. + +The girl was on her feet in a moment. "My uncle, you cannot be in +earnest," she said. "I declare before God I will stab myself rather +than be forced on that young man. The heart rises at it; God forbids +such marriages; you dishonor your white hair. Oh, my uncle, pity me! +There is not a woman in all the world but would prefer death to such a +nuptial. Is it possible," she added, faltering—"is it possible that you +do not believe me—that you still think this"—and she pointed at Denis +with a tremor of anger and contempt—"that you still think _this_ to be +the man?" + +"Frankly," said the old gentleman, pausing on the threshold, "I do. But +let me explain to you once for all, Blanche de Malétroit, my way of +thinking about this affair. When you took it into your head to dishonor +my family and the name that I have borne, in peace and war, for more +than threescore years, you forfeited, not only the right to question my +designs, but that of looking me in the face. If your father had been +alive, he would have spat on you and turned you out of doors. His was +the hand of iron. You may bless your God you have only to deal with the +hand of velvet, mademoiselle. It was my duty to get you married without +delay. Out of pure goodwill, I have tried to find your own gallant for +you. And I believe I have succeeded. But before God and all the holy +angels, Blanche de Malétroit, if I have not, I care not one jack-straw. +So let me recommend you to be polite to our young friend; for, upon my +word, your next groom may be less appetizing." + +And with that he went out, with the chaplain at his heels; and the +arras fell behind the pair. + +The girl turned upon Denis with flashing eyes. + +"And what, sir," she demanded, "may be the meaning of all this?" + +"God knows," returned Denis, gloomily, "I am a prisoner in this house, +which seems full of mad people. More I know not; and nothing do I +understand." + +"And pray how came you here?" she asked. + +He told her as briefly as he could. "For the rest," he added, "perhaps +you will follow my example, and tell me the answer to all these +riddles, and what, in God's name, is like to be the end of it." + +She stood silent for a little, and lie could see her lips tremble and +her tearless eyes burn with a feverish lustre. Then she pressed her +forehead in both hands. + +"Alas, how my head aches!" she said, wearily—"to say nothing of my poor +heart! But it is due to you to know my story, unmaidenly as it must +seem. I am called Blanche de Malétroit; I have been without father or +mother for—oh! for as long as I can recollect, and indeed I have been +most unhappy all my life. Three months ago a young captain began to +stand near me every day in church. I could see that I pleased him; I am +much to blame, but I was so glad that any one should love me; and when +he passed me a letter, I took it home with me and read it with great +pleasure. Since that time he has written many. He was so anxious to +speak with me, poor fellow! and kept asking me to leave the door open +some evening that we might have two words upon the stair. For he knew +how much my uncle trusted me." She gave something like a sob at that, +and it was a moment before she could go on. "My uncle is a hard man, +but he is very shrewd," she said, at last. "He has performed many feats +in war, and was a great person at court, and much trusted by Queen +Isabeau in old days. How he came to suspect me I cannot tell; but it is +hard to keep anything from his knowledge; and this morning, as we came +from mass, he took my hand into his, forced it open, and read my little +billet, walking by my side all the while. + +"When he finished, he gave it back to me with great politeness. It +contained another request to have the door left open; and this has been +the ruin of us all. My uncle kept me strictly in my room until evening, +and then ordered me to dress myself as you see me—a hard mockery for a +young girl, do you not think so? I suppose, when he could not prevail +with me to tell him the young captain's name, he must have laid a trap +for him; into which, alas! you have fallen in the anger of God. I +looked for much confusion; for how could I tell whether he was willing +to take me for his wife on these sharp terms? He might have been +trifling with me from the first; or I might have made myself too cheap +in his eyes. But truly I had not looked for such a shameful punishment +as this? I could not think that God would let a girl be so disgraced +before a young man. And now I tell you all; and I can scarcely hope +that you will not despise me." + +Denis made her a respectful inclination. + +"Madam," he said, "you have honored me by your confidence. It remains +for me to prove that I am not unworthy of the honor. Is Messire de +Malétroit at hand?" + +"I believe he is writing in the _salle[6]_ without," she answered. + +"May I lead you thither, madam?" asked Denis, offering his hand with +his most courtly bearing. + +She accepted it; and the pair passed out of the chapel, Blanche in a +very drooping and shamefast condition, but Denis strutting and raffling +in the consciousness of a mission, and the boyish certainty of +accomplishing it with honor. + +The Sire Malétroit rose to meet them with an ironical obeisance. + +"Sir," said Denis, with the grandest possible air, "I believe I am to +have some say in the matter of this marriage; and let me tell you at +once, I will be no party to forcing the inclination of this young lady. +Had it been freely offered to me, I should have been proud to accept +her hand, for I perceive she is as good as she is beautiful; but as +things are, I have now the honor, messire, of refusing." + +Blanche looked at him with gratitude in her eyes; but the old gentleman +only smiled and smiled, until his smile grew positively sickening to +Denis. + +"I am afraid," he said, "Monsieur de Beaulieu, that you do not +perfectly understand the choice I have offered you. Follow me, I +beseech you, to this window." And he led the way to one of the large +windows which stood open on the night. "You observe," he went on, +"there is an iron ring in the upper masonry, and reeved through that, a +very efficacious rope. Now, mark my words: if you should find your +disinclination to my niece's person insurmountable, I shall have you +hanged out of this window before sunrise. I shall only proceed to such +an extremity with the greatest regret, you may believe me. For it is +not at all your death that I desire, but my niece's establishment in +life. At the same time, it must come to that if you prove obstinate. +Your family, Monsieur de Beaulieu, is very well in its way; but if you +sprung from Charlemagne[7], you should not refuse the hand of a +Malétroit with impunity—not if she had been as common as the Paris +road—not if she was as hideous as the gargoyle over my door. Neither my +niece nor you, nor my own private feelings, move me at all in this +matter. The honor of my house has been compromised; I believe you to be +the guilty person, at least you are now in the secret; and you can +hardly wonder if I request you to wipe out the stain. If you will not, +your blood be on your own head! It will be no great satisfaction to me +to have your interesting relics kicking their heels in the breeze below +my windows, but half a loaf is better than no bread, and if I cannot +cure the dishonor, I shall at least stop the scandal." + +There was a pause. + +"I believe there are other ways of settling such imbroglios among +gentlemen," said Denis. "You wear a sword, and I hear you have used it +with distinction." + +The Sire de Malétroit made a signal to the chaplain, who crossed the +room with long silent strides and raised the arras over the third of +the three doors. It was only a moment before he let it fall again; but +Denis had time to see a dusky passage full of armed men. + +"When I was a little younger, I should have been delighted to honor +you, Monsieur de Beaulieu," said Sire Alain: "but I am now too old. +Faithful retainers are the sinews of age, and I must employ the +strength I have. This is one of the hardest things to swallow as a man +grows up in years; but with a little patience, even this becomes +habitual. You and the lady seem to prefer the _salle_ for what remains +of your two hours; and as I have no desire to cross your preference, I +shall resign it to your use with all the pleasure in the world. No +haste!" he added, holding up his hand, as he saw a dangerous look come +into Denis de Beaulieu's face. "If your mind revolt against hanging, it +will be time enough two hours hence to throw yourself out of the window +or upon the pikes of my retainers. Two hours of life are always two +hours. A great many things may turn up in even as little a while as +that. And, besides. If I understand her appearance, my niece has +something to say to you. You will not disfigure your last hours by a +want of politeness to a lady?" + +Denis looked at Blanche, and she made him an imploring gesture. + +It is likely that the old gentleman was hugely pleased at this symptom +of an understanding; for he smiled on both, and added sweetly: "If you +will give me your word of honor, Monsieur de Beaulieu, to await my +return at the end of the two hours before attempting anything +desperate, I shall withdraw my retainers, and let you speak in greater +privacy with mademoiselle." + +Denis again glanced at the girl, who seemed to beseech him to agree. + +"I give you my word of honor," he said. + +Messire de Malétroit bowed, and proceeded to limp about the apartment, +clearing his throat the while with that odd musical chirp which had +already grown so irritating in the ears of Denis de Bealieu. He first +possessed himself of some papers which lay upon the table; then he went +to the mouth of the passage and appeared to give an order to the men +behind the arras; and lastly he hobbled out through the door by which +Denis had come in, turning upon the threshold to address a last smiling +bow to the young couple, and followed by the chaplain with a hand lamp. + +No sooner were they alone than Blanche advanced toward Denis with her +hands extended. Her face was flushed and excited, and her eyes shone +with tears. + +"You shall not die!" she cried, "you shall marry me after all." + +"You seem to think, madam," replied Denis, "that I stand much in fear +of death." + +"Oh, no, no," she said, "I see you are no poltroon[8]. It is for my own +sake—I could not bear to have you slain for such a scruple." + +"I am afraid," returned Denis, "that you underrate the difficulty, +madam. What you may be too generous to refuse, I may be too proud to +accept. In a moment of noble feeling toward me, you forget what you +perhaps owe to others." + +He had the decency to keep his eyes on the floor as he said this, and +after he had finished, so as not to spy upon her confusion. She stood +silent for a moment, then walked suddenly away, and falling on her +uncle's chair, fairly burst out sobbing. Denis was in the acme of +embarrassment. He looked round, as if to seek for inspiration, and, +seeing a stool, plumped down upon it for something to do. There he sat, +playing with the guard of his rapier, and wishing himself dead a +thousand times over, and buried in the nastiest kitchen-heap in France. +His eyes wandered round the apartment, but found nothing to arrest +them. There were such wide spaces between the furniture, the light fell +so badly and cheerlessly over all, the dark outside air looked in so +coldly through the windows, that he thought he had never seen a church +so vast, nor a tomb so melancholy. The regular sobs of Blanche de +Malétroit measured out the time like the ticking of a clock. He read +the device upon the shield over and over again, until his eyes became +obscured; he stared into shadowy corners until he imagined they were +swarming with horrible animals; and every now and again he awoke with a +start, to remember that his last two hours were running, and death was +on the march. + +Oftener and oftener, as the time went on, did his glance settle on the +girl herself. Her face was bowed forward and covered with her hands, +and she was shaken at intervals by the convulsive hiccough of grief. +Even thus she was not an unpleasant object to dwell upon, so plump and +yet so fine, with a warm brown skin, and the most beautiful hair, Denis +thought, in the whole world of womankind. Her hands were like her +uncle's: but they were more in place at the end of her young arms, and +looked infinitely soft and caressing. He remembered how her blue eyes +had shone upon him, full of anger, pity, and innocence. And the more he +dwelt on her perfections, the uglier death looked, and the more deeply +was he smitten with penitence at her continued tears. Now he felt that +no man could have the courage to leave a world which contained so +beautiful a creature; and now he would have given forty minutes of his +last hour to have unsaid his cruel speech. + +Suddenly a hoarse and ragged peal of cockcrow rose to their ears from +the dark valley below the windows. And this shattering noise in the +silence of all around was like a light in a dark place, and shook them +both out of their reflections. + +"Alas, can I do nothing to help you?" she said, looking up. + +"Madam," replied Denis, with a fine irrelevancy, "if I have said +anything to wound you, believe me, it was for your own sake and not for +mine." + +She thanked him with a tearful look. + +"I feel your position cruelly," he went on. "The world has been bitter, +hard on you. Your uncle is a disgrace to mankind. Believe me, madam, +there is no young gentleman in all France but would be glad of my +opportunity, to die in doing you a momentary service." + +"I know already that you can be very brave and generous," she answered. +"What I _want_ to know is whether I can serve you—now or afterward," +she added, with a quaver. + +"Most certainly," he answered, with a smile. "Let me sit beside you as +if I were a friend, instead of a foolish intruder; try to forget how +awkwardly we are placed to one another; make my last moments go +pleasantly; and you will do me the chief service possible." + +"You are very gallant," she added, with a yet deeper sadness—"very +gallant—and it somehow pains me. But draw nearer, if you please; and if +you find anything to say to me, you will at least make certain of a +very friendly listener. Ah! Monsieur de Beaulieu," she broke forth—"ah! +Monsieur de Beaulieu, how can I look you in the face?" And she fell to +weeping again with a renewed effusion. + +"Madam," said Denis, taking her hand in both of his, "reflect on the +little time I have before me, and the great bitterness into which I am +cast by the sight of your distress. Spare me, in my last moments, the +spectacle of what I cannot cure even with the sacrifice of my life." + +"I am very selfish," answered Blanche. "I will be braver, Monsieur de +Beaulieu, for your sake. But think if I can do you no kindness in the +future—if you have no friends to whom I could carry your adieux. Charge +me as heavily as you can; every burden will lighten, by so little, the +invaluable gratitude I owe you. Put it in my power to do something more +for you than weep." + +"My mother is married again, and has a young family to care for. My +brother Guichard will inherit my fiefs; and if I am not in error, that +will content him amply for my death. Life is a little vapor that +passeth away, as we are told by those in holy orders. When a man is in +a fair way and sees all life open in front of him, he seems to himself +to make a very important figure in the world. His horse whinnies to +him; the trumpets blow and the girls look out of window as he rides +into town before his company; he receives many assurances of trust and +regard—sometimes by express in a letter—sometimes face to face, with +persons of great consequence falling on his neck. It is not wonderful +if his head is turned for a time. But once he is dead, were he as brave +as Hercules[9] or as wise as Solomon[10], he is soon forgotten. It is +not ten years since my father fell, with many other knights around him, +in a very fierce encounter, and I do not think that any one of them, +nor so much as the name of the fight, is now remembered. No, no, madam, +the nearer you come to it, you see that death is a dark and dusty +corner, where a man gets into his tomb and has the door shut after him +till the judgment day. I have few friends just now, and once I am dead +I shall have none." + +"Ah, Monsieur de Beaulieu!" she exclaimed, "you forget Blanche de +Malétroit." + +"You have a sweet nature, madam, and you are pleased to estimate a +little service far beyond its worth." + +"It is not that," she answered. "You mistake me if you think I am +easily touched by my own concerns. I say so because you are the noblest +man I have ever met; because I recognize in you a spirit that would +have made even a common person famous in the land." + +"And yet here I die in a mousetrap—with no more noise about it than my +own squeaking," answered he. + +A look of pain crossed her face and she was silent for a little while. +Then a light came into her eyes, and with a smile she spoke again. + +"I cannot have my champion think meanly of himself. Any one who gives +his life for another will be met in paradise by all the heralds and +angels of the Lord God. And you have no such cause to hang your head. +For—Pray, do you think me beautiful?" she asked, with a deep flush. + +"Indeed, madam, I do," he said. + +"I am glad of that," she answered heartily. "Do you think there are +many men in France who have been asked in marriage by a beautiful +maiden—with her own lips—and who have refused her to her face? I know +you men would half despise such a triumph; but believe me, we women +know more of what is precious in love. There is nothing that should set +a person higher in his own esteem; and we women would prize nothing +more dearly." + +"You are very good," he said; "but you cannot make me forget that I was +asked in pity and not for love." + +"I am not so sure of that," she replied, holding down her head. "Hear +me to an end, Monsieur de Beaulieu. I know how you must despise me; I +feel you are right to do so; I am too poor a creature to occupy one +thought of your mind, although, alas! you must die for me this morning. +But when I asked you to marry me, indeed, and indeed, it was because I +respected and admired you, and loved you with my whole soul, from the +very moment that you took my part against my uncle. If you had seen +yourself, and how noble you looked, you would pity rather than despise +me. And now," she went on, hurriedly checking him with her hand, +"although I have laid aside all reserve and told you so much, remember +that I know your sentiments toward me already. I would not, believe me, +being nobly born, weary you with importunities into consent. I too have +a pride of my own: and I declare before the holy mother of God, if you +should now go back from your word already given, I would no more marry +you than I would marry my uncle's groom." + +Denis smiled a little bitterly. + +"It is a small love," he said, "that shies at a little pride." + +She made no answer, although she probably had her own thoughts. + +"Come hither to the window," he said with a sigh. "Here is the dawn." + +And indeed the dawn was already beginning. The hollow of the sky was +full of essential daylight, colorless and clean; and the valley +underneath was flooded with a gray reflection. A few thin vapors clung +in the coves of the forest or lay along the winding course of the +river. The scene disengaged a surprising effect of stillness, which was +hardly interrupted when the cocks began once more to crow among the +steadings[11]. Perhaps the same fellow who had made so horrid a clangor +in the darkness not half an hour before, now sent up the merriest cheer +to greet the coming day. A little wind went bustling and eddying among +the tree-tops underneath the windows. And still the daylight kept +flooding insensibly out of the east, which was soon to grow +incandescent and cast up that red-hot cannon-ball, the rising sun. + +Denis looked out over all this with a bit of a shiver. He had taken her +hand, and retained it in his almost unconsciously. + +"Has the day begun already?" she said; and then illogically enough: +"the night has been so long! Alas! what shall we say to my uncle when +he returns?" + +"What you will," said Denis, and he pressed her fingers in his. + +She was silent. + +"Blanche," he said, with a swift, uncertain, passionate utterance, "you +have seen whether I fear death. You must know well enough that I would +as gladly leap out of that window into the empty air as to lay a finger +on you without your free and full consent. But if you care for me at +all do not let me lose my life in a misapprehension; for I love you +better than the whole world; and though I will die for you blithely, it +would be like all the joys of Paradise to live on and spend my life in +your service." + +As he stopped speaking, a bell began to ring loudly in the interior of +the house; and a clatter of armor in the corridor showed that the +retainers were returning to their post, and the two hours were at an +end. + +"After all that you have heard?" she whispered, leaning toward him with +her lips and eyes. + +"I have heard nothing," he replied. + +"The captain's name was Florimond de Champdivers," she said in his ear. + +"I did not hear it," he answered, taking her supple body in his arms, +and covered her wet face with kisses. + +A melodious chirping was audible behind, followed by a beautiful +chuckle, and the voice of Messire de Malétroit wished his new nephew a +good morning. + +NOTES + +[1] Published in 1878. Acknowledgment is due to the Charles Scribner's +Sons Company, Publishers, for the use of the text of their edition of +Stevenson's works. + +[2] 207:18 bartizan. A small overhanging turret with loop-holes and +embrasures projecting from the parapet of a medieval building. + +[3] 208:1 gargoyles. Mouths of spouts, in antic shapes. + +[4] 209:30 debouched. Passed out. + +[5] 212:29 Leonardo. (1452-1519.) A famous Italian painter, architect, +sculptor, scientist, engineer, mechanician, and musician. + +[6] 222:7 salle. French word for hall or room. + +[7] 223:13 Charlemagne. (742 or 747-814.) A great king of the Franks +and emperor of the Romans. + +[8] 225:25 poltroon. A coward, a dastard. + +[9] 229:12 Hercules. A mighty hero in Greek and Roman mythology. + +[10] 229:13 Solomon. Son of David. King of Israel, 993-953 B.C. + +[11] 231: 26 steadings. A farmstead—barns, stables, cattle-sheds, etc. + +BIOGRAPHY + +Robert Louis Stevenson was born November 13, 1850, in Edinburgh. He was +an only child. On his mother's side he came from a line of Scotch +philosophers and ministers; on his father's, from a line of active +workers and scientists. His grandfather, Robert Stevenson, and his +father, Thomas Stevenson, gained world-wide reputations in engineering. + +Robert inherited from his mother throat and lung troubles. His health +was very poor from his birth and his life was preserved only by the +careful watchfulness of his mother and his devoted nurse, Alison +Cunningham. As a child he was very lovable and possessed a very active +imagination. + +He went to school in Edinburgh between the years 1858-1867. He first +attended a preparatory school, then the Edinburgh academy. He spent +considerable time at his maternal grandfather's home. It was there that +he first tasted the delights of romance. In his school work he was none +too studious, but all his teachers were charmed by his pleasing manner +and general intelligence. Though an idler in other things, he worked +constantly on the art of writing. Throughout his study in Edinburgh +University and his unsuccessful efforts in engineering and the practice +of law, literature became more and more a passion with him. + +The period between 1875 and 1879 was one of improved health and +considerable literary activity. During this time he published _A +Lodging for the Night, Will o' the Mill, The New Arabian Nights_, and +an _Inland Voyage_. + +While in southern Europe he met and fell in love with Mrs. Osbourne. So +after she returned to her home in California, Stevenson received the +news that she was seriously ill. He immediately sailed for San +Francisco, travelling as a steerage passenger because of lack of funds +and a desire for literary material. Out of this experience grew a +number of stories and essays. Exposure on the voyage affected his +health and caused a very dangerous illness. After his recovery he +married Mrs. Osbourne and returned to England with his wife and +stepson. + +For a few years his work was more or less spasmodic on account of his +bitter struggle with poor health, in 1883 he achieved success by the +publication of _Treasure Island_. _Markheim_ appeared in 1884. +_Kidnapped_ and _Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_ were published in 1886. + +After the death of his father in 1887, Stevenson and his family sailed +to America, where they settled in the Adirondacks for the winter of +1888. Here his health was good and he wrote a number of essays for +_Scribner's Magazine_. In the spring of the same year they started on a +cruise of the south seas. They visited many of the southern islands and +settled at Vailima, Samoa. Stevenson was interested in the Samoaas and +took an active part in their political affairs. The tropical climate +agreed with him and his creative power was renewed. He wrote a number +of short stories, a series of letters on the South Seas, and the novel +_David Balfour_. + +Political reverses and failing strength took away for a time his power +to write. He was again stimulated, however, by the love and +appreciation of his Samoan followers, and started on what promised to +be his period of highest achievement. This promise was soon blighted by +his untimely death from a stroke of apoplexy, December 13, 1894. He was +buried in Samoa. + +BIOGRAPHICAL REFERENCES + +_Life of Robert Louis Stevenson_, 2 vols., Graham Balfour. + +_Robert Louis Stevenson_, Isobel Strong. + +_Memories and Portraits_, Robert Louis Stevenson. + +_Friends on the Shelf_, Bradford Torrey. + +"Personal Recollections," Edmund Gosse, _Century Magazine_, 50:447. + +"Character Sketch," _Atlantic Monthly_, 89:89-99. + +"The Real Stevenson," _Atlantic Monthly_, 85:702-5. + +_A Bibliography of the Works of Robert Louis Stevenson_, W.F. Prideaux. + +CRITICISMS + +Fundamentally Stevenson's style is marked by a conscious aim to +entertain. His engaging humor, free of all affectation, sentimentality, +and exaggeration, is spontaneous and natural. His most original writing +is _The Child's Garden of Verses_. His touch is light and his thought +is clear and lucid. _Across the Plains_ is written in his most +straightforward and natural style. + +Stevenson was a careful writer, doing with great skill any established +piece of art. He practised diligently, and gained, as he himself +states, his high rank by constantly drilling himself in the art of +writing. This imitation of form to the point of perfection, rather than +an expression of a great and moving idea, gives an air of insincerity +to some of Stevenson's works. Yet, although seemingly artificial, he +never chose words for the sake of mere sounds, but for their accuracy +in truth and fitness. He was as an ephemeral shadow with an optimistic +and real spirit. He infused an intimacy and spirituality into his +writings that prove delightful to all his readers. + +The subject of Markheim, a man failing through weakness, was a favorite +topic for Stevenson. Markheim is almost an ideal specimen of the +impressionistic short-story. It has a plot in which Hawthorne might +justly have revelled, a treatment as intellectual as that of Poe, +descriptions not unlike those of Flaubert's, and a moral ending true to +the Puritanic type. The movement of the story is swift and possesses +perfect unity. The surprise at the end comes as a shock although the +author has consistently and logically constructed his plot. + +GENERAL REFERENCES + +_Emerson and Other Essays_, John Jay Chapman. + +_Robert Louis Stevenson_, L. Cope Cornford. + +_Modern Novelists_, William Lyon Phelps. + +_Makers of English Fiction_, W.J. Dawson. + +"Art of Stevenson," _North American Review_, 171: 348-358. + +"Criticism," _Dial_, 30:345. May 18, 1901. + +COLLATERAL READINGS + +_The Suicide Club (New Arabian Nights)_, Robert Louis Stevenson. + +_Story of the Physician and the Saratoga Trunk_, Robert Louis +Stevenson. + +_The Adventure of the Hansom Cab_, Robert Louis Stevenson. + +_The Rajah's Diamond_, Robert Louis Stevenson. + +_The Story of the House with the Green Blinds_, Robert Louis Stevenson. + +_The Adventure of Prince Florizel and the Detective_, Robert Louis +Stevenson. + +_A Lodging for the Night_, Robert Louis Stevenson, + +_Providence and the Guitar_, Robert Louis Stevenson. + +_In the Valley_, Robert Louis Stevenson. + +_With the Children of Israel_, Robert Louis Stevenson. + +_The Lotus and the Cockleburrs_, "O. Henry." + +_Two Bites at a Cherry_, Thomas Bailey Aldrich. + +_The Notary of Perigueux_, Henry W. Longfellow. + + + + +MARKHEIM[1] + + +_By Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894)_ + + +"Yes," said the dealer, "our windfalls[2] are of various kinds. Some +customers are ignorant, and then I touch a dividend[3] on my superior +knowledge. Some are dishonest," and here he held up the candle, so that +the light fell strongly on his visitor, "and in that case," he +continued, "I profit by my virtue." + +Markheim had but just entered from the daylight streets, and his eyes +had not yet grown familiar with the mingled shine and darkness in the +shop. At these pointed words, and before the near presence of the +flame, he blinked painfully and looked aside. + +The dealer chuckled. "You come to me on Christmas Day," he resumed, +"when you know that I am alone in my house, put up my shutters, and +make a point of refusing business. Well, you will have to pay for that; +you will have to pay for my loss of time, when I should be balancing my +books; you will have to pay, besides; for a kind of manner that I +remark in you to-day very strongly. I am the essence of discretion, and +ask no awkward questions; but when a customer cannot look me in the +eye, he has to pay for it." The dealer once more chuckled; and then, +changing to his usual business voice, though still with a note of +irony, "You can give, as usual, a clear account of how you came into +the possession of the object?" he continued. "Still your uncle's +cabinet? A remarkable collector, sir!" + +And the little pale, round-shouldered dealer stood almost on tiptoe, +looking over the top of his gold spectacles, and nodding his head with +every mark of disbelief. Markheim returned his gaze with one of +infinite pity, and a touch of horror. + +"This time," said he, "you are in error. I have not come to sell, but +to buy. I have no curios to dispose of; my uncle's cabinet is bare to +the wainscot: even were it still intact, I have done well on the Stock +Exchange, and should more likely add to it than otherwise, and my +errand to-day is simplicity itself. I seek, a Christmas present for a +lady," he continued, waxing more fluent as he struck into the speech he +had prepared; "and certainly I owe you every excuse for thus disturbing +you upon so small a matter. But the thing was neglected yesterday; I +must produce my little compliment at dinner; and, as you very well +know, a rich marriage is not a thing to be neglected." + +There followed a pause, during which the dealer seemed to weigh this +statement incredulously. The ticking of many clocks among the curious +lumber of the shop, and the faint rushing of the cabs in a near +thoroughfare, filled up the interval of silence. + +"Well, sir," said the dealer, "be it so. You are an old customer after +all; and if, as you say, you have the chance of a good marriage, far be +it from me to be an obstacle. Here is a nice thing for a lady, now," he +went on, "this hand glass—fifteenth century, warranted; comes from a +good collection, too; but I reserve the name, in the interests of my +customer, who was just like yourself, my dear sir, the nephew and sole +heir of a remarkable collector." + +The dealer, while he thus ran on in his dry and biting voice, had +stooped to take the object from its place; and, as he had done so, a +shock had passed through Markheim, a start both of hand and foot, a +sudden leap of many tumultuous passions to the face. It passed as +swiftly as it came, and left no trace beyond a certain trembling of the +hand that now received the glass. + +"A glass," he said hoarsely, and then paused, and repeated it more +clearly. "A glass? For Christmas? Surely not." + +"And why not?" cried the dealer. "Why not a glass?" + +Markheim was looking upon him with an indefinable expression. "You ask +me why not?" he said. "Why, look here—look in it—look at yourself! Do +you like to see it? No! nor I—nor any man." + +The little man had jumped back when Markheim had so suddenly confronted +him with the mirror; but now, perceiving there was nothing worse on +hand, he chuckled. "Your future lady, sir, must be pretty hard +favored," said he. + +"I ask you," said Markheim, "for a Christmas present, and you give me +this—this damned reminder of years and sins and follies—this +hand-conscience! Did you mean it? Had you a thought in your mind? Tell +me. It will be better for you if you do. Come, tell me about yourself, +I hazard a guess now, that you are in secret a very charitable man?" + +The dealer looked closely at his companion. It was very odd, Markheim +did not appear to be laughing; there was something in his face like an +eager sparkle of hope, but nothing of mirth. + +"What are you driving at?" the dealer asked. + +"Not charitable?" returned the other, gloomily. "Not charitable; not +pious; not scrupulous; unloving; unbeloved; a hand to get money, a safe +to keep it. Is that all? Dear God, man, is that all?" + +"I will tell you what it is," began the dealer, with some sharpness, +and then broke off again into a chuckle. "But I see this is a love +match of yours, and you have been drinking the lady's health." + +"Ah!" cried Markheim, with a strange curiosity, "Ah, have you been in +love? Tell me about that." + +"I!" cried the dealer. "I in love! I never had the time, nor have I the +time to-day for all this nonsense. Will you take the glass?" + +"Where is the hurry?" returned Markheim. "It is very pleasant to stand +here talking; and life is so short and insecure that I would not hurry +away from any pleasure—no, not even from so mild a one as this. We +should, rather cling, cling to what little we can get, like a man at a +cliff's edge. Every second is a cliff, if you think upon it—a cliff a +mile high—high enough, if we fall, to dash us out of every feature of +humanity. Hence it is best to talk pleasantly. Let us talk of each +other; why should we wear this mask? Let us be confidential. Who knows, +we might become friends?" + +"I have just one word to say to you," said the dealer. "Either make +your purchase, or walk out of my shop." + +"True, true," said Markheim. "Enough fooling. To business. Show me +something else." + +The dealer stooped once more, this time to replace the glass upon the +shelf, his thin blond hair falling over his eyes as he did so. Markheim +moved a little nearer, with one hand in the pocket of his greatcoat; he +drew himself up and filled his lungs; at the same time many different +emotions were depicted together on his face—terror, horror, and +resolve, fascination, and a physical repulsion; and through a haggard +lift of his upper lip, his teeth looked out. + +"This, perhaps, may suit," observed the dealer; and then, as he began +to re-arise, Markheim bounded from behind upon his victim. The long, +skewer-like[4] dagger flashed and fell. The dealer straggled like a +hen, striking his temple on the shelf, and then tumbled on the floor in +a heap. + +Time had some score of small voices in that shop, some stately and slow +as was becoming to their great age, others garrulous and hurried. All +these told out the seconds in an intricate chorus of tickings. Then the +passage of a lad's feet, heavily running on the pavement, broke in upon +these smaller voices and startled Markheim into the consciousness of +his surroundings. He looked about him awfully. The candle stood on the +counter, its flame solemnly wagging in a draught; and by that +inconsiderable movement, the whole room was filled with noiseless +bustle and kept heaving like a sea: the tall shadows nodding, the gross +blots of darkness swelling and dwindling as with respiration, the faces +of the portraits and the china gods changing and wavering like images +in water. The inner door stood ajar, and peered into that leaguer[5] of +shadows with a long slit of daylight like a pointing finger. + +From these fear-stricken rovings, Markheim's eyes returned to the body +of his victim, where it lay both humped and sprawling, incredibly small +and strangely meaner than in life. In these poor, miserly clothes, in +that ungainly attitude, the dealer lay like so much sawdust. Markheim +had feared to see it, and, lo! it was nothing. And yet, as he gazed, +this bundle of old clothes and pool of blood began to find eloquent +voices. There it must lie; there was none to work the cunning hinges or +direct the miracle of locomotion—there it must lie till it was found. +Found! aye, and then? Then would this dead flesh lift up a cry that +would ring over England, and fill the world with the echoes of pursuit. +Ay, dead or not, this was still the enemy. "Time was that when the +brains were out[6]," he thought; and the first word struck into his +mind. Time, now that the deed was accomplished—time, which had dosed +for the victim, had become instant and momentous for the slayer. + +The thought was yet in his mind, when, first one and then another, with +every variety of pace and voice—one deep as the bell from a cathedral +turret, another ringing on its treble notes the prelude of a waltz—the +clocks began to strike the hour of three in the afternoon. + +The sudden outbreak of so many tongues in that dumb chamber staggered +him. He began to bestir himself, going to and fro with the candle, +beleaguered by moving shadows, and startled to the soul by chance +reflections. In many rich mirrors, some of home designs, some from +Venice or Amsterdam, he saw his face repeated and repeated, as it were +an army of spies; his own eyes met and detected him; and the sound of +his own steps, lightly as they fell, vexed the surrounding quiet. And +still as he continued to fill his pockets, his mind accused him, with a +sickening iteration[7], of the thousand faults of his design. He should +have chosen a more quiet hour; he should have prepared an alibi; he +should not have used a knife; he should have been more cautious, and +only bound and gagged the dealer, and not killed him; he should have +been more bold, and killed the servant also; he should have done all +things otherwise; poignant regrets, weary, incessant toiling of the +mind to change what was unchangeable, to plan what was now useless, to +be the architect of the irrevocable past. Meanwhile, and behind all +this activity, brute terrors, like the scurrying of rats in a deserted +attic, filled the more remote chambers of his brain with riot; the hand +of the constable would fall heavy on his shoulder, and his nerves would +jerk like a hooked fish; or he beheld, in galloping defile, the dock, +the prison, the gallows, and the black coffin. Terror of the people in +the street sat down before his mind like a besieging army. It was +impossible, he thought, but that some rumor of the struggle must have +reached their ears and set on edge their curiosity; and now, in all the +neighboring houses, he divined them sitting motionless and with +uplifted ear—solitary people, condemned to spend Christmas dwelling +alone on memories of the past, and now startlingly recalled from that +tender exercise: happy family parties, struck into silence round the +table, the mother still with raised finger; every degree and age and +humor, but all, by their own hearths, prying and hearkening and weaving +the rope that was to hang him. Sometimes it seemed to him he could not +move too softly; the clink of the tall Bohemian goblets rang out loudly +like a bell; and alarmed by the bigness of the ticking, he was tempted +to stop the clocks. And then, again, with a swift transition of his +terrors, the very silence of the place appeared a source of peril, and +a thing to strike and freeze the passer-by; and he would step more +boldly, and bustle aloud among the contents of the shop, and imitate, +with elaborate bravado, the movements of a busy man at ease in his own +house. + +But he was now so pulled about by different alarms that, while one +portion of his mind was still alert and cunning, another trembled on +the brink of lunacy. One hallucination in particular took a strong hold +on his credulity. The neighbor hearkening with white face beside his +window, the passer-by arrested by a horrible surmise on the +pavement—these could at worst suspect, they could not know; through the +brick walls and shuttered windows only sounds could penetrate. But +here, within the house, was he alone? He knew he was; he had watched +the servant set forth sweethearting, in her poor best, "out for the +day" written in every ribbon and smile. Yes, he was alone, of course; +and yet, in the bulk of empty house about him, he could surely hear a +stir of delicate footing—he was surely conscious, inexplicably +conscious, of some presence. Ay, surely; to every room and corner of +the house his imagination followed it; and now it was a faceless thing, +and yet had eyes to see with; and again it was a shadow of himself; and +yet again behold the image of the dead dealer, reinspired with cunning +and hatred. + +At times, with a strong effort, he would glance at the open door which +still seemed to repel his eyes. The house was tall, the skylight small +and dirty, the day blind with fog; and the light that filtered down to +the ground story was exceedingly faint, and showed dimly on the +threshold of the shop. And yet, in that strip of doubtful brightness, +did there not hang wavering a shadow? + +Suddenly, from the street outside, a very jovial gentleman began to +beat with a staff on the shop door, accompanying his blows with shouts +and railleries[8] in which the dealer was continually called upon by +name. Markheim, smitten into ice, glanced at the dead man. But no! he +lay quite still; he was fled away far beyond earshot of these blows and +shoutings; he was sunk beneath seas of silence; and his name, which +would once have caught his notice above the howling of a storm, had +become an empty sound. And presently the jovial gentleman desisted from +his knocking and departed. + +Here was a broad hint to hurry what remained to be done, to get forth +from, this accusing neighborhood, to plunge into a bath of London +multitudes, and to reach, on the other side of day, that haven of +safety and apparent, innocence—-his bed. One visitor had come: at any +moment it another might follow and be more obstinate. To have done the +deed, and yet not to reap the profit, would be too abhorrent a failure. +The money, that was now Markheim's concern: and as a means to that, the +keys. + +He glanced over his shoulder at the open door, where the shadow was +still lingering and shivering; and with no conscious repugnance of the +mind, yet with a tremor of the belly, he drew near the body of his +victim. The human character had quite departed. Like a suit +half-stuffed with bran, the limbs lay scattered, the trunk doubled, on +the floor; and yet the thing repelled him. Although so dingy and +inconsiderable to the eye, he feared it might have more significance to +the touch. He took the body by the shoulders, and turned it on its +back. It was strangely light and supple, and the limbs, as if they had +been broken, fell into the oddest postures. The face was robbed of all +expression; but it was as pale as wax, and shockingly smeared with +blood about one temple. That was, for Markheim, the one displeasing +circumstance. It carried him back, upon the instant, to a certain fair +day in a fishers' village: a gray day, a piping wind, a crowd upon the +street, the blare of brasses, the booming of drums, the nasal voice of +a ballad singer; and a boy going to and fro, buried over head in the +crowd and divided between interest and fear, until, coming out upon the +chief place of concourse, he beheld a booth and a great screen with +pictures, dismally designed, garishly[9] colored: Brownrigg[10] with +her apprentice; the Mannings[11] with their murdered guest; Weare in +the death grip of Thurtell[12]; and a score besides of famous crimes. +The thing was as clear as an illusion; he was once again that little +boy; he was looking once again, and with the same sense of physical +revolt, at these vile pictures; he was still stunned by the thumping of +the drums. A bar of that day's music returned upon his memory; and at +that, for the first time, a qualm came over him, a breath of nausea, a +sudden weakness of the joints, which he must instantly resist and +conquer. + +He judged it more prudent to confront than to flee from these +considerations; looking the more hardily in the dead face, bending his +mind to realize the nature and greatness of his crime. So little a +while ago that face had moved with every change of sentiment, that pale +mouth had spoken, that body had been all on fire with governable +energies; and now, and by his act, that piece of life had been +arrested, as the horologist[13], with interjected finger, arrests the +beating of the clock. So he reasoned in vain; he could rise to no more +remorseful consciousness; the same heart which had shuddered before the +painted effigies of crime, looked on its reality unmoved. At best, he +felt a gleam of pity for one who had been endowed in vain with all +those faculties that can make the world a garden of enchantment, one +who had never lived and who was now dead. But of penitence, no, not a +tremor. + +With that, shaking himself clear of these considerations, he found the +keys and advanced toward the open door of the shop. Outside, it had +begun to rain smartly; and the sound of the shower upon the roof had +banished silence. Like some dripping cavern, the chambers of the house +were haunted by an incessant echoing, which filled the ear and mingled +with the ticking of the clocks. And, as Markheim approached the door, +he seemed to hear, in answer to his own cautious tread, the steps of +another foot withdrawing up the stair. The shadow still palpitated +loosely on the threshold. He threw a ton's weight of resolve upon his +muscles, and drew back the door. + +The faint, foggy daylight glimmered dimly on the bare floor and stairs; +on the bright suit of armor posted, halbert in hand, upon the landing; +and on the dark wood carvings and framed pictures that hung against the +yellow panels of the wainscot. So loud was the beating of the rain +through all the house that, in Markheim's ears, it began to be +distinguished into many different sounds. Footsteps and sighs, the +tread of regiments marching in the distance, the chink of money in the +counting, and the creaking of doors held stealthily ajar, appeared to +mingle with the patter of the drops upon the cupola and the gushing of +the water in the pipes. The sense that he was not alone grew upon him +to the verge of madness. On every side he was haunted and begirt by +presences. He heard them moving in the upper chambers; from the shop, +he heard the dead man getting to his legs; and as he began with a great +effort to mount the stairs, feet fled quietly before him and followed +stealthily behind. If he were but deaf, he thought, how tranquilly he +would possess his soul! And then again, and hearkening with ever fresh +attention, he blessed himself for that unresting sense which held the +outposts and stood a trusty sentinel upon his life. His head turned +continually on his neck; his eyes, which seemed starting from their +orbits, scouted on every side, and on every side were half rewarded as +with the tail of something nameless vanishing. The four-and-twenty +steps to the first floor were four-and-twenty agonies. + +On that first story the doors stood ajar, three of them like three +ambushes, shaking his nerves like the throats of cannon. He could never +again, he felt, be sufficiently immured and fortified from men's +observing eyes; he longed to be home, girt in by walls, buried among +bed-clothes, and invisible to all but God. And at that thought he +wondered a little, recollecting tales of other murderers and the fear +they were said to entertain of heavenly avengers. It was not so, at +least, with him. He feared the laws of nature, lest, in their callous +and immutable procedure, they should preserve some damning evidence of +his crime. He feared tenfold more, with a slavish, superstitious +terror, some scission[14] in the continuity of man's experience, some +wilful illegality of nature. He played a game of skill, depending on +the rules, calculating consequence from cause; and what if nature, as +the defeated tyrant overthrew the chessboard, should break the mould of +their succession? The like had befallen Napoleon (so writers said) when +the winter changed the time of its appearance. The like might befall +Markheim: the solid walls might become transparent and reveal his +doings like those of bees in a glass hive; the stout planks might yield +under his foot like quicksands and detain him in their clutch; aye, and +there were soberer accidents that might destroy him: if, for instance, +the house should fall and imprison him beside the body of his victim; +or the house next door should fly on fire, and the firemen invade him +from all sides. These things he feared; and, in a sense, these things +might be called the hands of God reached forth against sin. But about +God himself he was at ease; his act was doubtless exceptional, but so +were his excuses, which God knew; it was there, and not among men, that +he felt sure of justice. + +When he got safe into the drawing-room, and shut the door behind him, +he was aware of a respite from alarms. The room was quite dismantled, +uncarpeted besides, and strewn with packing cases and incongruous +furniture; several great pier glasses, in which he beheld himself at +various angles, like an actor on a stage; many pictures, framed and +unframed, standing, with their faces to the wall; a fine Sheraton[15] +sideboard, a cabinet of marquetry[16], and a great old bed, with +tapestry hangings. The windows opened to the floor; but by great good +fortune the lower part of the shutters had been closed, and this +concealed him from the neighbors. Here, then, Markheim drew in a +packing case before the cabinet, and began to search among the keys. It +was a long business, for there were many; and it was irksome, besides; +for, after all, there might be nothing in the cabinet, and time was on +the wing. But the closeness of the occupation sobered him. With the +tail of his eye he saw the door—even glanced at it from time to time +directly, like a besieged commander pleased to verify the good estate +of his defences. But in truth he was at peace. The rain falling in the +street sounded natural and pleasant. Presently, on the other side, the +notes of a piano were wakened to the music of a hymn, and the voices of +many children took up the air and words. How stately, how comfortable +was the melody! How fresh the youthful voices! Markheim gave ear to it +smilingly, as he sorted out the keys; and his mind was thronged with +answerable ideas and images; church-going children and the pealing of +the high organ; children afield, bathers by the brookside, ramblers on +the brambly common, kite-flyers in the windy and cloud-navigated sky; +and then, at another cadence of the hymn, back again to church, and the +somnolence of summer Sundays, and the high, genteel voice of the parson +(which he smiled a little to recall), and the painted Jacobean[17] +tombs, and the dim lettering of the Ten Commandments in the chancel. + +And as he sat thus, at once busy and absent, he was startled to his +feet. A flash of ice, a flash of fire, a bursting gush of blood, went +over him, and then he stood transfixed and thrilling. A step mounted +the stair slowly and steadily, and presently a hand was laid upon the +knob, and the lock clicked, and the door opened. + +Fear held Markheim in a vice. What to expect he knew not, whether the +dead man walking, or the official ministers of human justice, or some +chance witness blindly stumbling in to consign him to the gallows. But +when a face was thrust into the aperture, glanced round the room, +looked at him, nodded and smiled as if in friendly recognition, and +then withdrew again, and the door closed behind it, his fear broke +loose from his control in a hoarse cry. At the sound of this the +visitant returned. + +"Did you call me?" he asked pleasantly, and with that he entered the +room, and closed the door behind him. + +Markheim stood and gazed at him with all his eyes. Perhaps there was a +film upon his sight, but the outlines of the newcomer seemed to change +and waver like those of the idols in the wavering candlelight of the +shop: and at times he thought he knew him; and at times he thought he +bore a likeness to himself; and always, like a lump of living terror, +there lay in his bosom the conviction that this thing was not of the +earth and not of God. + +And yet the creature had a strange air of the commonplace, as he stood +looking on Markheim with a smile; and when he added: "You are looking +for the money, I believe?" it was in the tones of everyday politeness. + +Markheim made no answer. + +"I should warn you," resumed the other, "that the maid has left her +sweetheart earlier than usual and will soon be here. If Mr. Markheim be +found in this house, I need not describe to him the consequences." + +"You know me?" cried the murderer. + +The visitor smiled. "You have long been a favorite of mine," he said; +"and I have long observed and often sought to help you." + +"What are you?" cried Markheim: "the devil?" + +"What I may be," returned the other, "cannot affect the service I +propose to render you." + +"It can," cried Markheim; "it does! Be helped by you? No, never; not by +you! You do not know me yet; thank God, you do not know me!" + +"I know you," replied the visitant, with a sort of kind severity or +rather firmness. "I know you to the soul." + +"Know me!" cried Markheim. "Who can do so? My life is but a +travesty[18] and slander on myself. I have lived to belie my nature. +All men do; all men are better than this disguise that grows about and +stifles them. You see each dragged away by life, like one whom bravos +have seized and muffled in a cloak. If they had their own control—if +you could see their faces, they would be altogether different, they +would shine out for heroes and saints! I am worse than most; myself is +more overlaid; my excuse is known to me and God. But, had I the time, I +could disclose myself." + +"To me?" inquired the visitant. + +"To you before all," returned the murderer. "I supposed you were +intelligent. I thought—since you exist—you would prove a reader of the +heart. And yet you would propose to judge me by my acts! Think of it; +my acts! I was born and I have lived in a land of giants; giants have +dragged me by the wrists since I was born out of my mother—the giants +of circumstance. And you would judge me by my acts! But can you not +look within? Can you not understand that evil is hateful to me? Can you +not see within me the clear writing of conscience, never blurred by any +wilful sophistry[19] although too often disregarded? Can you not read +me for a thing that surely must be common as humanity—the unwilling +sinner?" + +"All this is very feelingly expressed," was the reply, "but it regards +me not. These points of consistency are beyond my province, and I care +not in the least by what compulsion you may have been dragged away, so +as you are but carried in the right direction. But time flies; the +servant delays, looking in the faces of the crowd and at the pictures +on the hoardings, but still she keeps moving nearer; and remember, it +is as if the gallows itself were striding toward you through the +Christmas streets! Shall I help you—I, who know all? Shall I tell you +where to find the money?" + +"For what price?" asked Markheim. + +"I offer you the service for a Christmas gift," returned the other. + +Markheim could not refrain from smiling with a kind of bitter triumph, +"No," said he, "I will take nothing at your hands; if I were dying of +thirst, and it was your hand that put the pitcher to my lips, I should +find the courage to refuse. It may be credulous, but I will do nothing +to commit myself to evil." + +"I have no objection to a death-bed repentance," observed the visitant. + +"Because you disbelieve their efficacy[20]!" Markheim cried. + +"I do not say so," returned the other; "but I look on these things from +a different side, and when the life is done my interest falls. The man +has lived to serve me, to spread black looks under color of religion, +or to sow tares[21] in the wheat field, as you do, in a course of weak +compliance with desire. Now that he draws so near to his deliverance, +he can add but one act of service—to repent, to die smiling, and thus +to build up in confidence and hope the more timorous of my surviving +followers. I am not so hard a master. Try me. Accept my help. Please +yourself in life as you have done hitherto; please yourself more amply, +spread your elbows at the board; and when the night begins to fall and +the curtains to be drawn, I tell you, for your greater comfort, that +you will find it even easy to compound your quarrel with your +conscience, and to make a truckling peace with God. I came but now from +such a death-bed, and the room was full of sincere mourners, listening +to the man's last words; and when I looked into that face, which had +been set as a flint against mercy, I found it smiling with hope." + +"And do you, then, suppose me such a creature?" asked Markheim. "Do you +think I have no more generous aspirations than to sin, and sin, and +sin, and, at last, sneak into heaven? My heart rises at the thought. Is +this, then, your experience of mankind? or is it because you find me +with red hands that you presume such baseness? and is this crime of +murder indeed so impious as to dry up the very springs of good?" + +"Murder is to me no special category[22]," replied the other. "All sins +are murder, even all life is war. I behold your race, like starving +mariners on a raft, plucking crusts out of the hands of famine and +feeding on each other's lives. I follow sins beyond the moment of their +acting; I find in all that the last consequence is death; and to my +eyes, the pretty maid who thwarts her mother with such taking graces on +a question of a ball, drips no less visibly with human gore than such a +murderer as yourself. Do I say that I follow sins? I follow virtues +also; they differ not by the thickness of a nail, they are both scythes +for the reaping angel of Death. Evil, for which I live, consists not in +action but in character. The bad man is dear to me; not the bad act, +whose fruits, if we could follow them far enough down the hurtling[23] +cataract of the ages, might yet be found more blessed than those of the +rarest virtues. And it is not because you have killed a dealer, but +because you are Markheim, that I offered to forward your escape." + +"I will lay my heart open to you," answered Markheim. "This crime on +which you find me is my last. On my way to it I have learned many +lessons; itself is a lesson, a momentous lesson. Hitherto I have been +driven with revolt to what I would not; I was a bondslave to poverty, +driven and scourged. There are robust virtues that can stand in these +temptations; mine was not so: I had a thirst of pleasure. But to-day, +and out of this deed, I pluck both warning and riches—both the power +and a fresh resolve to be myself. I become in all things a free actor +in the world; I begin to see myself all changed, these hands the agents +of good, this heart at peace. Some thing comes over me out of the past; +something of what I have dreamed on Sabbath evenings to the sound of +the church organ, of what I forecast when I shed tears over noble +books, or talked, an innocent child, with my mother. There lies my +life; I have wandered a few years, but now I see once more my city of +destination." + +"You are to use this money on the Stock Exchange, I think?" remarked +the visitor; "and there, if I mistake not, you have already lost some +thousands?" + +"Ah," said Markheim, "but this time I have a sure thing." + +"This time, again, you will lose," replied the visitor, quietly. + +"Ah, but I keep back the half!" cried Markheim. + +"That also you will lose," said the other. + +The sweat started upon Markheim's brow. "Well, then, what matter?" he +exclaimed. "Say it be lost, say I am plunged again in poverty, shall +one part of me, and that the worse, continue until the end to override +the better? Evil and good ran strong in me, hailing me both ways. I do +not love the one thing, I love all. I can conceive great deeds, +renunciations, martyrdoms; and though I be fallen to such a crime as +murder, pity is no stranger to my thoughts. I pity the poor; who knows +their trials better than myself? I pity and help them; I prize love, I +love honest laughter; there is no good thing nor true thing on earth +but I love it from my heart. And are my vices only to direct my life, +and my virtues to lie without effect, like some passive lumber of the +mind? Not so; good, also, is a spring of acts." + +But the visitant raised his finger. "For six-and-thirty years that you +have been in this world," said he, "through many changes of fortune and +varieties of humor, I have watched you steadily fall. Fifteen years ago +you would have started at a theft. Three years back you would have +blenched at the name of murder. Is there any crime, is there any +cruelty or meanness, from which you still recoil?—five years from now I +shall detect you in the fact! Downward, downward lies your way; nor can +anything but death avail to stop you." + +"It is true," Markheim said huskily, "I have in some degree complied +with evil. But it is so with all: the very saints, in the mere exercise +of living, grow less dainty, and take on the tone of their +surroundings." + +"I will propound to you one simple question," said the other; "and as +you answer, I shall read to you your moral horoscope. You have grown in +many things more lax; possibly you do right to be so; and at any +account, it is the same with all men. But granting that, are you in any +one particular, however trifling, more difficult to please with your +own conduct, or do you go in all things with a looser rein?" + +"In any one?" repeated Markheim, with an anguish of consideration. +"No," he added, with despair, "in none! I have gone down in all." + +"Then," said the visitor, "content yourself with what you are, for you +will never change; and the words of your part on this stage are +irrevocably written down." + +Markheim stood for a long while silent, and indeed it was the visitor +who first broke the silence. "That being so," he said, "shall I show +you the money?" + +"And grace?" cried Markheim. + +"Have you not tried it?" returned the other. "Two or three years ago, +did I not see you on the platform of revival meetings, and was not your +voice the loudest in the hymn?" + +"It is true," said Markheim; "and I see clearly what remains for me by +way of duty. I thank you for these lessons from my soul; my eyes are +opened, and I behold myself at last for what I am." + +At this moment, the sharp note of the door-bell rang through the house; +and the visitant, as though this were some concerted signal for which +he had been waiting, changed at once in his demeanor. + +"The maid!" he cried. "She has returned, as I forewarned you, and there +is now before you one more difficult passage. Her master, you must say, +is ill; you must let her in, with an assured but rather serious +countenance—no smiles, no overacting, and I promise you success! Once +the girl within, and the door closed, the same dexterity that has +already rid you of the dealer will relieve you of this last danger in +your path. Thenceforward you have the whole evening—the whole night, if +needful—to ransack the treasures of the house and to make good your +safety. This is help that comes to you with the mask of danger. Up!" he +cried: "up, friend; your life hangs trembling in the scales: up, and +act!" + +Markheim steadily regarded his counsellor. "If I be condemned to evil +acts," he said, "there is still one door of freedom open—I can cease +from action. If my life be an ill thing, I can lay it down. Though I +be, as you say truly, at the beck of every small temptation, I can yet, +by one decisive gesture, place myself beyond the reach of all. My love +of good is damned to barrenness; it may, and let it be! But I have +still my hatred of evil; and from that, to your galling disappointment, +you shall see that I can draw both energy and courage." + +The features of the visitor began to undergo a wonderful and lovely +change: they brightened and softened with a tender triumph; and, even +as they brightened, faded and dislimned[24]. But Markheim did not pause +to watch or understand the transformation. He opened the door and went +downstairs very slowly, thinking to himself. His past went soberly +before him; he beheld it as it was, ugly and strenuous like a dream, +random as chance-medley—a scene of defeat. Life, as he thus reviewed +it, tempted him no longer; but on the farther side he perceived a quiet +haven for his bark. He paused in the passage, and looked into the shop, +where the candle still burned by the dead body. It was strangely +silent. Thoughts of the dealer swarmed into his mind, as he stood +gazing. And then the bell once more broke out into impatient clamor. + +He confronted the maid upon the threshold with something like a smile. + +"You had better go for the police," said he: "I have killed your +master." + +NOTES + +[1] Written in 1884. This story is used by permission of and special +arrangement with the Charles Scribner's Sons Company, Publishers. + +[2] 237:1 windfalls. Unexpected gains. + +[3] 237:3 dividend. His knowledge a business asset that draws interest. + +[4] 241:22 skewer-like. Like a wooden pin now used to fasten meat. + +[5] 242:11 leaguer. Place besieged with shadows. + +[6] 242:27 Time was that when the brains were out. See Macbeth, Act +III, sc. 4, line 78. + +[7] 243:16 iteration. Repetition. + +[8] 246:25 railleries. Merry jesting or ridicule. + +[9] 247:7 garishly. A blinding, gaudy effect. + +[10] 247:7 Brownrigg. A notorious murderess living in England in the +middle of the eighteenth century. She was hanged and her skeleton is +still preserved. + +[11] 247:8 Mannings. Marie Manning and her husband murdered a former +suitor. They were given, a death sentence. + +[12] 247:9 Thurtell. A gambler who quarrelled with Weare and killed him +after he had professed peace. He designed his own gallows. + +[13] 247:25 horologist. One who makes timepieces. + +[14] 249:27 scission. A cleaving or a dividing. + +[15] 250:25 Sheraton. Next to Chippendale the greatest furniture +designer and cabinet-maker. + +[16] 250:25 marquetry. An inlay of some thin material in the surface of +a piece of furniture or other object. + +[17] 251:23 Jacobean. Pertaining to the time of James I of England. + +[18] 253:12 travesty. A grotesque imitation. + +[19] 254:3 sophistry. Methods of the Greek sophists. + +[20] 254:29 efficacy. Effective energy. + +[21] 255:5 sow tares, etc. See Matthew XII, 24-30. + +[22] 255:29 category. A class, condition, or predicament. + +[23] 256:14 hurtling. Rushing headlong or confusedly. + +[24] 280:10 dislimned. Erased or effaced. + +COLLATERAL READINGS + +_Treasure Island_, R.L. Stevenson. + +_Kidnapped_, R.L. Stevenson. + +_Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_, R.L. Stevenson. + +_Prince Otto_, R.L. Stevenson. + +_Across the Plains_, R.L. Stevenson. + +_Travels with a Donkey_, R.L. Stevenson. + +_An Inland Voyage_, R.L. Stevenson. + +_Essays on Burns and Thoreau_, R.L. Stevenson. + +_Virginibus Puerisque_, R.L. Stevenson. + +_The Child's Garden of Verses_, R.L. Stevenson. + +_The Masque of the Red Death_, Edgar Allan Poe. + +_The Pit and the Pendulum_, Edgar Allan Poe. + +_A Coward_, Guy de Maupassant. + +_The Substitute_, François Coppée. + +_The Revolt of Mother_, Mary Wilkins Freeman. + +_Flute and Violin_, James Lane Alien. + +_A Lear of the Steppes_, Ivan Turgeneff. + +_Rappacini's Daughter_, Nathaniel Hawthorne. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A COLLECTION OF SHORT-STORIES *** + +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. 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