The Mysterious Stranger Manuscripts (Literature) (22 page)

BOOK: The Mysterious Stranger Manuscripts (Literature)
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Satan laughed his unkind laugh to a finish, then he said-

"It is a remarkable progress. In five or six thousand years five or
six high civilizations have risen, flourished, commanded the wonder
of the world, then faded out and disappeared; and not one of them
except the latest, ever invented any sweeping and adequate way to
kill people. They all did their best, to kill being the chiefest
ambition of the human race and the earliest incident in its history,
but only the Christian Civilization has scored a triumph to be
proud of. Two centuries from now it will he recognised that all the
competent killers are Christian; then the pagan world will go to
school to the Christian: not to acquire his religion, but his guns.
The Turk and the Chinaman will buy those, to kill missionaries
and converts with."

By this time his theatre was at work again: and before our eyes
nation after nation drifted by, during two centuries, a mighty
procession, an endless procession, raging, struggling, wallowing
through seas of blood, smothered in battle-smoke through which
the flags glinted and the red jets from the cannon darted; and
always we heard the thunder of the guns and the cries of the dying.

"And what does it amount to?" said Satan, with his evil chuckle.
"Nothing at all. You gain nothing; you always come out where you
went in. For a million years the race has gone on monotonously
propagating itself and monotonously re-performing this dull nonsense-to what end? No wisdom can guess! Who gets a profit out
of it? Nobody but a parcel of usurping little monarchs and nobilities who despise you; would feel defiled if you touched them; would
shut the door in your face if you proposed to call; whom you slave
for, fight for, die for, and are not ashamed of it, but proud; whose
existence is a perpetual insult to you and you are afraid to resent it;
who are mendicants supported by your alms, yet assume toward you
the airs of benefactor toward beggar; who address you in the
language of master to slave and are answered in the language of
slave to master; who are worshiped by you with your mouth, while
in your hearts-if you have one-you despise yourselves for it. The
first man was a hypocrite and a coward, qualities which have not
yet failed in his line: it is the foundation upon which all civilizations have been built. Drink to their perpetuation! drink to their
augmentation! drink to-"

Then he saw by our faces how much we were hurt, and he cut
his sentence short and stopped chuckling, and his manner changed.
He said gently-

"No, we will drink each other's health, and let civilization go.
The wine which has flown to our hands out of space by my desire,
is earthly, and good enough for that other toast, but throw away the
glasses-we will drink this one in wine which has not visited this
world before."

We obeyed, and reached up and received the new cups as they
descended. They were shapely and beautiful goblets, but they were
not made of any material that we were acquainted with. They
seemed to be in motion, they seemed to be alive; and certainly the
colors in them were in motion. They were very brilliant and sparkling, and of every tint, and they were never still, but flowed to and
fro in rich tides which met and broke and flashed out dainty
explosions of enchanting color. I think it was most like opals washing about in waves and flashing out their splendid fires. But there is nothing to compare the wine with, just as there was never anything
to compare Satan's music with. We drank it, and felt a strange and
witching ecstasy go stealing through us, and Seppi's eyes filled and
he said worshipingly-

"We shall be there some day, and then-"

He glanced furtively at Satan, and I think he hoped Satan would
say "Yes, you will be there some day," but Satan seemed to be
thinking about something else, and said nothing. This made me
feel ghastly, for I knew he had heard; nothing, spoken or unspoken,
ever escaped him. Poor Seppi looked distressed, and did not finish
his remark. The goblets rose, and clove their way into the sky, a
triplet of radiant sundogs, and disappeared. Why didn't they stay?
It seemed a bad sign, and depressed me. Should I ever see mine
again? would Seppi ever see his?

Until this day I do not know. I never asked, and Seppi never
asked. It is best not to inquire too far, in some matters, if you want
to be comfortable. I had doubts about Seppi's ever seeing his goblet
again, and I know he had doubts in my case, for some reason or
other. These doubts restrained us and we did not pry into each
other's fate further than concerned the present life.

You must never picture Satan as a solitary, but always with a lot
of vagrant animals tagging around after him. Animals could not let
him alone, they were so fascinated with him; and this was mutual,
for he felt the same way toward them. He often said he would not
give a penny for human company when he could get better. You
see they were fond of each other because in a manner they were
kin, through their mutual property in the absence of the Moral
Sense. And kin in another particular, too-to him, as to them, there
were no unpleasant smells. He said that unpleasant smells were an
invention of Civilization-like modesty, and indecency. He said
that to the pure all smells were sweet, to the decent all things were
decent. He said that the natural man, the savage, had no prejudices
about smells, and no shame for his God-made nakedness. Through
intimacy with him we came to enjoy the society of many animals which had previously been repulsive to us, but we drew the line at
the polecat. He did not; and so when he wanted to play with that
creature we kept our distance. Indeed we were obliged to do this, it
was not an affectation; for, while a polecat is undoubtedly a comely
and graceful animal to look at, none but an angel can get any real
joy out of its company. As for me, I would rather live in solitude.
Seppi felt the same way.

Of course out there in the woods we had a perfect managerie on
hand. The wild creatures trooped in from everywhere, and climbed
all over Satan, and sat on his shoulder and his head, and rummaged
his pockets, and made themselves at home-squirrels, rabbits,
snakes, birds, butterflies, every creature you could name; and the
rest would sit around in a crowd and look at him and admire him
and worship him, and c:,atter and squawk and talk and laugh, and
he would answer back in their own languages.

And they often beguiled him to do unlawful things. They would
tell him of friends of theirs caught in traps by poachers in the
prince's preserves, and would lead the way and show him, and he
would release the creatures and destroy the traps. There was a
reward out for the transgressor, and the keepers were on the watch,
but he did not care. This time it was as usual. A rabbit came with a
pitiful tale and he started, we following and protesting as far as the
fence, and he changing himself into a rough and ragged poacher as
he went. He got a broken-legged rabbit out of a trap, healed it with
a touch and let it go-and there were the keepers in ambush, and
swarmed out and surrounded him, catching him in the act. Four of
them. The chief keeper, Conrad Bart, spoke his mind freely, calling
Satan hard names, and said-

'We have you at last, lousy vagabond, and now you shall pay
with usury for the trouble and worry you have given us, and the
nights of watching, and the scouting and the fatigue. And also for
the deridings and revilings his Highness has discharged upon us for
being less cunning than you and letting you outwit us so long. Oh,
yes, you shall pay!"

Satan said-

"It is a mistake; you think me a poacher, but I am not. I give you
my honor I am innocent."

All the keepers laughed at that, and said "He gives us his honor
-lie!" and Bart said he ought not to tell lies, he had no art in it.

"I am not lying," said Satan. "I am a stranger; you do not know
me; you have not seen me before; then how can you know whether
it is I whom you have been seeking, or another?"

Bart said, with an airy toss of his head-

"It is plain that whether I know you or not, you do not know me;
or you would know that I do not waste my time and my master's in
bartering arguments with your kind of vermin. Now then, drop it.
And answer: what is your name, and where are you from?"

"I do not choose to tell my name, nor where I am from. And you
are mistaken in thinking I do not know you. I know the four of
you; and I know things about each of you which you would not like
the magistrates to find out."

It made them very angry, and three of them were for lashing him
to a tree and flogging the insolence out of him; but Bart said-

"Wait-let him speak, we shall lose nothing. For each separate
lie that he tells he shall have a separate flogging. Begin. What do
you know about Caspar there?"

"That at midnight, ten nights ago, in a lonely place he hid
something which the owner would much like to recover."

"It is alie!" shouted Caspar, and the others slapped their thighs
in malicious joy to see Caspar snapped up in that startling and
ungracious fashion.

"Then let us go and fetch it," said Satan.

"Agreed!" said all but Caspar, and were for starting; but Caspar
begged, and took back the "lie," and said he had spoken hastily.

"Then confess," said Satan.

"I do," said Caspar, but with an ill grace, and with a nod of his
head as much as to say "you will pay for this," whereat the others
made merry again.

"It was a good guess, tramp," said Bart, "and saves you one
thrashing. But you are not out of the woods yet. Try again. What
do you know about Johan?"

"That he also possesses something which does not belong to him.
It is a piece of gold, and has a secret mark upon it. I know the
owner and the mark. Also, I know where the gold-piece is."

Johan burst into a wordy fury and called Satan the most shameful names, and threw off his jacket and challenged him to fight, but
Satan was not moved. Then Johan's temper got so much the better
of him that he made a mistake; for he swore he hadn't a gold-piece
and dared Satan to prove the contrary.

"He has sewed it up in the lining of his jacket, there," said Satan.

Johan jumped for the jacket, but the others were too quick for
him; and in the lining they found the coin.

Things were beginning to look serious. The men lost their levity,
and looked nonplussed and ill at ease. There was a moment's
silence, then Bart said, with the manner of one who has been
relaxing himself with a childish game, but is tired of it and would
return to matters of dignity and importance-

"Well, enough of this nonsense. Bind the loafer and fetch him
along."

"Ah," said Conrad, with a sneer, "it is that way that the cat
jumps, is it?"

"What do you mean?" said Bart.

"I mean that you've got us exposed, and now you would sneak
out yourself."

"Take back the words!"

"I won't take them back. You know you don't dare to let this
devil's imp tell what he knows about you. Do you hear?-you don't
dare."

"It's a lie!" Then, his temper being up and hot, he made a
mistake. "If he knows anything about me that I am hiding, let him
out with it. Come-speak up, poacher and spy; and mind, if you
utter so much as half a lie about me, I will not leave a whole bone
in your body."

"I shall say only the truth," said Satan. "First, then, from to-day
you will not be a keeper, but will be kept. You will be a public
show and a curiosity, and will earn your family's living in that
way.

This made the others laugh, but not Bart.

"Damn your prophecies!" he cried. "Confine yourself to what
you know about me."

"Very well. Eighteen years ago a man was murdered near this
village, for money. I know where the body lies; and with the body
are the proofs that you did the murder, and not Jacob Hein whom
you sent to the gallows for it."

Before you could think, Bart's gun was at Satan's breast and his
finger on the trigger. But he never pulled it; Satan turned him to
stone-clothes, gun and all.

And while those others were staring at this strange statue he
turned himself into Father Adolf. They took only one glance at
him, then fled away, crossing themselves, and soon they had spread
the news, and set the persecuted village wild once more. The way
Satan was acting, he was sure to greatly injure Father Adolf's
character, which was bad enough already, but I did not say anything. It would have been of no use; Satan would have said, "He is
only a human being-it is of no consequence."

Seppi was sorry-for Bart's family, but Satan said he had done
them a favor; that Bart was a fortune to them, now; they could
exhibit him and get rich.

We met the crowds coming up, but he had already told us to
keep away from him, and we were obeying. Ile said he should not
be favorably received, and he was right. They fell apart and gave
him a wide passage and were cruelly afraid of him, and showed his
ecclesiastical authority a servile deference by uncovering to him
and making humble obeisance; but the minute his back was to
them they stoned him. They fairly rained missiles upon him, which
struck and bounded off in sprays, but he didn't mind it, but strode
contentedly along, acting like a person who was refreshing himself
with a shower-bath,-and much obliged.

Then we turned back. It was pitiful to see the family, their grief
was so bitter. They flung their arms around the statue, and kissed it
and cried over it, and could not be comforted. All the crowd
admired the statue, and were full of wonder at its minute fidelities
to fact, even the least little frayed and torn places in the clothes
being exactly preserved, while as a portrait the work was perfection,
and the murderous expression in countenance and attitude splendidly lifelike and animated and true; so true and so real that when women found themselves suddenly in front of the malignant face
and the marble gun they gave a little screech and jumped aside. The
birds in the game-bag were perfectly rendered, and so was a fly that
was on the left cheek; it was like the frozen flies you find on the
panes, winter mornings, white-shrouded in glinting frost. Siebold
the drunken artist was there, and he said there was not another
work of art in Europe that could match this one for modeling and
tone.

BOOK: The Mysterious Stranger Manuscripts (Literature)
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