The Mysterious Stranger Manuscripts (Literature) (33 page)

"Indeed it is-nothing could be truer."

"It is not true of the men of any other planet. It explains the
mystery. My father's error stands revealed in all its nakedness. The
fruit's office was not confined to conferring the mere knowledge of
good and evil, it conferred also the passionate and eager and hungry
disposition to DO evil. Prone as sparks to fly upward; in other words,
prone as water to run down hill-a powerful figure, and means that
man's disposition is wholly evil, uncompromisingly evil, inveterately evil, and that he is as undisposed to do good as water is
undisposed to run up hill. Ah, my father's error brought a colossal
disaster upon the men of this planet. It poisoned the men of this
planet-poisoned them in mind and body. I see it, plainly."

"It brought death, too."

"Yes-whatever that may be. I do not quite understand it. It
seems to be a sleep. You do not seem to mind sleep. By my reading I
gather that you are not conscious of either death or sleep; that
nevertheless you fear the one and do not fear the other. It is very
stupid. Illogical."

Hotchkiss put down his knife and fork and explained the difference between sleep and death; and how a person was not sorry
when asleep, but sorry when dead, because-because—

He found it was not so easy to explain why as he had supposed it
was going to be; he floundered a while, then broke down. But
presently he tried again, and said that death was only a sleep, but
that the objection to it was that it was so long; then he remembered that time stands still when one sleeps, and so the difference between a night and a thousand years is really no difference at all so
far as the sleeper is personally affected.

However, the boy was thinking, profoundly, and heard none of
it; so nothing was lost. By and by the boy said, earnestly-

"The fundamental change wrought in man's nature by my father's conduct must remain-it is permanent; but a part of its burden
of evil consequences can be lifted from your race, and I will
undertake it. Will you help?"

He was applying in the right quarter. Lifting burdens from a
whole race was a fine and large enterprise, and suited Oliver
Hotchkiss's size and gifts better than any contract he had ever
taken hold of yet. He gave in his adhesion with promptness and
enthusiasm, and wanted the scheme charted out at once. Privately
he was immeasurably proud to be connected in business with an
actual angel and son of a devil, but did what he could to keep his
exultation from showing. The boy said-

"I cannot map out a definite plan yet; I must first study this race.
Its poisoned condition and prominent disposition to do evil differentiate it radically from any men whom I have known before,
therefore it is a new race to me and must be exhaustively studied
before I shall know where and how to begin. Indefinitely speaking,
our plan will be confined to ameliorating the condition of the race
in some ways in this life; we are not called upon to concern
ourselves with its future fate; that is in abler hands than ours."

"I hope you will begin your studies right away."

"I shall. Go to bed, and take your rest. During the rest of the
night and to-morrow I will travel about the globe and personally
examine some of the nationalities, and learn languages and read the
world's books in the several tongues, and to-morrow night we will
talk together here. Meantime the storm has made you a prisoner.
Will you have one of my servants to wait on you?"

A genuine little devil all for his own! It was a lovely idea, and
swelled Hotchkiss's vanity to the bursting point. He was lavish
with his thanks.

"But he won't understand what I say to him."

"He will learn in five minutes. Would you like any particular
one?"

"If I could have the cunning little rascal that sat down in the fire
after he got cooled off-"

There was a flash of scarlet and the little fiend was present and
smiling; and he had with him some books from the school; among
them the French-English dictionary and the phonographic shorthand system.

"There. Use him night and day. He knows what he is here for. If
he needs help he will provide it. He requires no lights; take them,
and go to bed; leave him to study his books. In five minutes he will
be able to talk broken English in case you want him. He will read
twelve or fifteen of your books in an hour and learn shorthand
besides; then he will be a capable secretary. He will be visible or
invisible according to your orders. Give him a name-he has one
already, and so have I, but you would not be able to pronounce
either of them. Good-bye."

He vanished.

Hotchkiss stood smiling all sorts of pleasant smiles of intricate
and variegated pattern at his little devil, with the idea of making
him understand how welcome he was; and he said to himself, "It's a
bitter climate for him, poor little rascal, the fire will go down and he
will freeze; I wish I knew how to tell him to run home and warm
himself whenever he wants to."

He brought blankets and made signs to him that these were for
him to wrap up in; then he began to pile wood on the fire, but the
red stranger took that work promptly off his hands, and did the
work like an expert-which he was. Then he sat down on the fire
and began to study his book, and his new master took the candle
and went away to bed, meditating a name for him. "He is a dear
little devil," he said, "and must have a nice one." So he named him
Edward Nicholson Hotchkiss-after a brother that was dead.

IN THE MORNING the world was still invisible, for the powdery
snow was still sifting thickly down-noiselessly, now, for the wind
had ceased to blow. The new devil appeared in the kitchen and
scared aunt Rachel and uncle Jeff out of it, and they fled to the
master's room with the tale. Hotchkiss explained the situation and
told them there was no harm in this devil, but a great deal of good;
and that he was the property of the wonderful boy, who had
strongly recommended him.

"Is he a slave, Marse Oliver 'r" asked Rachel.

"Yes."

"Well, den, dey oughtn't to be much harm in him, I reckon; but
is he a real devil?"

"Yes, genuine."

"Den how kin he be good?"

"Well, he is, anyway. We have been misinformed about devils.
There's a great deal of ignorant prejudice around, concerning them.
I want you to be friends with this one."

"But how kin we, Marse Oliver?" asked uncle Jeff; "we's afraid
of him. We'd like to be friends wid him, becase we's afraid of him,
en if he stays on de place, 'course we gwyne to do de bes' we kin;
but when he come a skippin' into de kitchen all red hot like a stack
of fire-coals, bless you I didn't want nothin' to do wid him. Still, if
lie's willin' to be friends it ain't gwyne to answer for us to hold
back, for Gawd on'y knows what he might do."

"S'pose things don't go to suit him, Marse Oliver," said Rachel,
"What he gwyne do den?"

"Really, you needn't worry, Rachel, he has a kind disposition,
and moreover he wants to be useful-I know it."

"Why, Marse Oliver, he'll take en tear up all de hymn-books
en-

"No he won't; he's perfectly civil and obliging, and he'll do
anything he is asked to do."

"Is dat so?"

"I know it."

"But what kin he do, Marse Oliver? he's so little, en den he don't
know our ways."

"Oh, he can do anything-shovel snow, for instance."

"My! kin he do dat?" asked Jeff. "If he'll do dat, I's his friend, for
one-right on de spot!"

"Yes, and he can run errands-any errand you want, Rachel."

"Dat'ud come mighty handy, Marse Oliver," said Rachel, relenting; "he can't run none now, 'course, but if de snow 'uz gone-"

"He'll run them for you, I know he will; I wish he were here,
I-"

Edward Nicholson Hotchkiss appeared in their midst, and the
negroes scrambled for the door, but he was there first and barred
the way. He smiled an eager and fiery smile, and said-

"I've been listening. I want to be friends-don't be afraid. Give
me an errand-I'll show you."

Rachel's teeth chattered a little, and her breath came short and
she was as pale as bronze; but she found her tongue, and said-

"I's yo' friend-I is, I swah it. Be good to me en ole Jeff,
honey-don't hurt us; don't do us no harm, for yo' ma's sake."

"Hurt you?-no. Give me an errand-I'll show you."

"But chile, dey ain't no errand; de snow's so deep, en you'd catch
cold, anyway, de way you's been raised. But sakes, if you'd been
here yistiddy evenin'-Marse Oliver I clean forgot de cream, en
dey ain't a drop for yo' breakfast."

"I'll fetch it," said Edward, "Go down-you'll find it on the
table."

He disappeared. The negroes were troubled, and did not know
what to make of this. They were afraid of him again; he must be off
his balance, for he could not run errands in this weather. Hotchkiss
smoothed away their fears with persuasive speeches, and they presently went below, where they found the new servant trying to tame
the cat and not succeeding; but the cream was there, and their
respect for Edward and his abilities received a great impulse.

T WAS IN 1490-winter. Austria was far away from the world,
and asleep; it was still the Middle Ages in Austria, and promised to
remain so forever. Some even set it away back centuries upon
centuries and said that by the mental and spiritual clock it was still
the Age of Faith in Austria. But they meant it as a compliment, not
a slur, and it was so taken, and we were all proud of it. I remember
it well, although I was only a boy; and I remember, too, the
pleasure it gave me.
.. ~ r r t t t t t t m

Yes, Austria was far from the world, and asleep, and our village
was in the middle of that sleep, being in the middle of Austria. It
drowsed in peace in the deep privacy of a hilly and woodsy solitude
where news from the world hardly ever came to disturb its dreams,
and was infinitely content. At its front flowed the tranquil river, its
surface painted with cloud-forms and the reflections of drifting arks
and stone-boats; behind it rose the woody steeps to the base of the
lofty precipice; from the top of the precipice frowned the vast castle
of Rosenfeld, its long stretch of towers and bastions mailed in vines;
beyond the river, a league to the left, was a tumbled expanse of
forestclothed hills cloven by winding gorges where the sun never
penetrated; and to the right, a precipice overlooked the river, and between it and the hills just spoken of lay a far-reaching plain
dotted with little homesteads nested among orchards and shadetrees.

The whole region for leagues around was the hereditary property
of prince Rosenfeld, whose servants kept the castle always in perfect condition for occupancy, but neither he nor his family came
there oftener than once in five years. When they came it was as if
the lord of the world had arrived, and had brought all the glories of
its kingdoms along; and when they went they left a calm behind
which was like the deep sleep which follows an orgy.

Eseldorf was a paradise for us boys. We were not overmuch
pestered with schooling. Mainly we were trained to be good Catholics; to revere the Virgin, the Church and the saints above everything; to hold the Monarch in awful reverence, speak of him with
bated breath, uncover before his picture, regard him as the gracious
provider of our daily bread and of all our earthly blessings, and
ourselves as being sent into the world with the one only mission, to
labor for him, bleed for him, die for him, when necessary. Beyond
these matters we were not required to know much; and in fact, not
allowed to. The priests said that knowledge was not good for the
common people, and could make them discontented with the lot
which God had appointed for them, and God would not endure
discontentment with His plans. This was true, for the priests got it
of the Bishop.

It was discontentment that came so near to being the ruin of
Gretel Marx the dairyman's widow, who had two horses and a cart,
and carried milk to the market town. A Hussite woman named
Adler came to Eseldorf and went slyly about, and began to persuade some of the ignorant and foolish to come privately by night to
her house and hear "God's real message," as she called it. She was a
cunning woman, and sought out only those few who could readflattering them by saying it showed their intelligence, and that only
the intelligent could understand her doctrine. She gradually got ten
together, and these she poisoned nightly with her heresies in her
house. And she gave them Hussite sermons, all written out, to keep
for their own, and persuaded them that it was no sin to read them.

One day Father Adolf came along and found the widow sitting
in the shade of the horse-chestnut that stood by her house, reading
these iniquities. He was a very loud and zealous and strenuous
priest, and was always working to get more reputation, hoping to be
a Bishop some day; and he was always spying around and keeping a
sharp lookout on other people's flocks as well as his own; and he was
dissolute and profane and malicious, but otherwise a good enough
man, it was generally thought. And he certainly had talent; he was
a most fluent and chirpy speaker, and could say the cuttingest
things and the wittiest, though a little coarse, maybe-however it
was only his enemies who said that, and it really wasn't any truer of
him than of others; but he belonged to the village council, and
lorded it there, and played smart dodges that carried his projects
through, and of course that nettled the others; and in their resentment they gave him nicknames privately, and called him the
"Town Bull," and "Hell's Delight," and all sorts of things; which
was natural, for when you are in politics you are in the wasp's nest
with a short shirt-tail, as the saying is.