INASMUCH as
I was now the second personage
in the Kingdom, as
far as political power and authorty
were concerned, much was made
of me. My raiment was of silks
and velvets and cloth of gold,
and by consequence was very showy,
also uncomfortable. But habit
would soon reconcile me to my
clothes; I was aware of that.
I was given the choicest suite
of apartments in the castle,
after the king's. They were aglow
with loud-colored silken hangings,
but the stone floors had nothing
but rushes on them for a carpet,
and they were misfit rushes at
that, being not all of one breed.
As for conveniences, properly
speaking, there weren't any.
I mean LITTLE conveniences; it
is the little conveniences that
make the real comfort of life.
The big oaken chairs, graced
with rude carvings, were well
enough, but that was the stopping
place. There was no soap, no
matches, no looking-glass --
except a metal one, about as
powerful as a pail of water.
And not a chromo. I had been
used to chromos for years, and
I saw now that without my suspecting
it a passion for art had got
worked into the fabric of my
being, and was become a part
of me. It made me homesick to
look around over this proud and
gaudy but heartless barrenness
and remember that in our house
in East Hartford, all unpretending
as it was, you couldn't go into
a room but you would find an
insurance-chromo, or at least
a three-color God-Bless-Our-Home
over the door; and in the parlor
we had nine. But here, even in
my grand room of state, there
wasn't anything in the nature
of a picture except a thing the
size of a bedquilt, which was
either woven or knitted (it had
darned places in it), and nothing
in it was the right color or
the right shape; and as for proportions,
even Raphael himself couldn't
have botched them more formidably,
after all his practice on those
nightmares
they call his "celebrated Hampton Court cartoons." Raphael was a bird. We had
several of his chromos;
one was his "Miraculous Draught of Fishes," where he puts in a miracle of his
own -- puts three men into a canoe which wouldn't have held a dog without upsetting.
I always admired to study R.'s art, it was so
fresh and unconventional.
There wasn't even a bell or
a speaking-tube in the castle.
I had a great many servants,
and those that were on duty lolled
in the anteroom; and when I wanted
one of them I had to go and call
for him. There was no gas, there
were no candles; a bronze dish
half full of boarding-house butter
with a blazing rag floating in
it was the thing that produced
what was regarded as light. A
lot of these hung along the walls
and modified the dark, just toned
it down enough to make it dismal.
If you went out at night, your
servants carried torches. There
were no books, pens, paper or
ink, and no glass in the openings
they believed to be windows.
It is a little thing -- glass
is -- until it is absent, then
it becomes a big thing. But perhaps
the worst of all was, that there
wasn't any sugar, coffee, tea,
or tobacco. I saw that I was
just another Robinson Crusoe
cast away on an uninhabited island,
with no society but some more
or less tame animals, and if
I wanted to make life bearable
I must do as he did -- invent,
contrive, create, reorganize
things; set brain and hand to
work, and keep them busy. Well,
that was in my line.
One thing troubled me along
at first -- the immense interest
which people took in me. Apparently
the whole nation wanted a look
at me. It soon transpired that
the eclipse had scared the British
world almost to death; that while
it lasted the whole country,
from one end to the other, was
in a pitiable state of panic,
and the churches, hermitages,
and monkeries overflowed with
praying and weeping poor creatures
who thought the end of the world
was come. Then had followed the
news that the producer of this
awful event was a stranger, a
mighty magician at Arthur's court;
that he could have blown out
the sun like a candle, and was
just going to do it when his
mercy was purchased, and he then
dissolved his enchantments, and
was now recognized and honored
as the man who had by his unaided
might saved the globe from destruction
and its peoples from extinction.
Now if you consider that everybody
believed that, and not only believed
it, but never even dreamed of
doubting it, you will easily
understand that there was not
a person in all Britain that
would not have walked fifty miles
to get a sight of me. Of course
I was all the talk -- all other
subjects were dropped; even the
king became suddenly a person
of minor interest and notoriety.
Within twentyfour hours the delegations
began to arrive, and from that
time onward for a fortnight they
kept coming. The village was
crowded, and all the countryside.
I had to go out a dozen times
a day and show myself to these
reverent and awe-stricken multitudes.
It came to be a great burden,
as to time and trouble, but of
course it was at the same time
compensatingly agreeable to be
so celebrated and such a center
of homage. It turned Brer Merlin
green with envy and spite, which
was a great satisfaction to me.
But there was one thing I couldn't
understand -- nobody had asked
for an autograph. I spoke to
Clarence about it. By George!
I had to explain to him what
it was. Then he said nobody in
the country could read or write
but a few dozen priests. Land!
think of that.
There was another thing that
troubled me a little. Those multitudes
presently began to agitate for
another miracle. That was natural.
To be able to carry back to their
far homes the boast that they
had seen the man who could command
the sun, riding in the heavens,
and be obeyed, would make them
great in the eyes of their neighbors,
and envied by them all; but to
be able to also say they had
seen him work a miracle themselves
-- why, people would come a distance
to see THEM. The pressure got
to be pretty strong. There was
going to be an eclipse of the
moon, and I knew the date and
hour, but it was too far away.
Two years. I would have given
a good deal for license to hurry
it up and use it now when there
was a big market for it. It seemed
a great pity to have it wasted
so, and come lagging along at
a time when a body wouldn't have
any use for it, as like as not.
If it had been booked for only
a month away, I could have sold
it short; but, as matters stood,
I couldn't seem to cipher out
any way to make it do me any
good, so I gave up trying. Next,
Clarence found that old Merlin
was making himself busy on the
sly among those people. He was
spreading a report that I was
a humbug, and that the reason
I didn't accommodate the people
with a miracle was because I
couldn't. I saw that I must do
something. I presently thought
out a plan.
By my authority as executive
I threw Merlin into prison --
the same cell I had occupied
myself. Then I gave public notice
by herald and trumpet that I
should be busy with affairs of
state for a fortnight, but about
the end of that time I would
take a moment's leisure and blow
up Merlin's stone tower by fires
from heaven; in the meantime,
whoso listened to evil reports
about me, let him beware. Furthermore,
I would perform but this one
miracle at this time, and no
more; if it failed to satisfy
and any murmured, I would turn
the murmurers into horses, and
make them useful. Quiet ensued.
I took Clarence into my confidence,
to a certain degree, and we went
to work privately. I told him
that this was a sort of miracle
that required a trifle of preparation,
and that it would be sudden death
to ever talk about these preparations
to anybody. That made his mouth
safe enough. Clandestinely we
made a few bushels of first-rate
blasting powder, and I superintended
my armorers while they constructed
a lightningrod and some wires.
This old stone tower was very
massive -- and rather ruinous,
too, for it was Roman, and four
hundred years old. Yes, and handsome,
after a rude fashion, and clothed
with ivy from base to summit,
as with a shirt of scale mail.
It stood on a lonely eminence,
in good view from the castle,
and about half a mile away.
Working by night, we stowed
the powder in the tower -- dug
stones out, on the inside, and
buried the powder in the walls
themselves, which were fifteen
feet thick at the base. We put
in a peck at a time, in a dozen
places. We could have blown up
the Tower of London with these
charges. When the thirteenth
night was come we put up our
lightning-rod, bedded it in one
of the batches of powder, and
ran wires from it to the other
batches. Everybody had shunned
that locality from the day of
my proclamation, but on the morning
of the fourteenth I thought best
to warn the people, through the
heralds, to keep clear away --
a quarter of a mile away. Then
added, by command, that at some
time during the twenty-four hours
I would consummate the miracle,
but would first give a brief
notice; by flags on the castle
towers if in the daytime, by
torch-baskets in the same places
if at night.
Thunder-showers had been tolerably
frequent of late, and I was not
much afraid of a failure; still,
I shouldn't have cared for a
delay of a day or two; I should
have explained that I was busy
with affairs of state yet, and
the people must wait.
Of course, we had a blazing
sunny day -- almost the first
one without a cloud for three
weeks; things always happen so.
I kept secluded, and watched
the weather. Clarence dropped
in from time to time and said
the public excitement was growing
and growing all the time, and
the whole country filling up
with human masses as far as one
could see from the battlements.
At last the wind sprang up and
a cloud appeared -- in the right
quarter, too, and just at nightfall.
For a little while I watched
that distant cloud spread and
blacken, then I judged it was
time for me to appear. I ordered
the torch-baskets to be lit,
and Merlin liberated and sent
to me. A quarter of an hour later
I ascended the parapet and there
found the king and the court
assembled and gazing off in the
darkness toward Merlin's Tower.
Already the darkness was so heavy
that one could not see far; these
people and the old turrets, being
partly in deep shadow and partly
in the red glow from the great
torch-baskets overhead, made
a good deal of a picture.
Merlin arrived in a gloomy
mood. I said:
"You wanted
to burn me alive when I had
not done you any harm,
and latterly you have been trying
to injure my professional reputation.
Therefore I am going to call
down fire and blow up your tower,
but it is only fair to give you
a chance; now if you think you
can break my enchantments and
ward off the fires, step to the
bat, it's your innings."
"I can, fair
sir, and I will. Doubt it not."
He drew an imaginary circle
on the stones of the roof, and
burnt a pinch of powder in it,
which sent up a small cloud of
aromatic smoke, whereat everybody
fell back and began to cross
themselves and get uncomfortable.
Then he began to mutter and make
passes in the air with his hands.
He worked himself up slowly and
gradually into a sort of frenzy,
and got to thrashing around with
his arms like the sails of a
windmill. By this time the storm
had about reached us; the gusts
of wind were flaring the torches
and making the shadows swash
about, the first heavy drops
of rain were falling, the world
abroad was black as pitch, the
lightning began to wink fitfully.
Of course, my rod would be loading
itself now. In fact, things were
imminent. So I said:
"You have had
time enough. I have given you
every advantage,
and not interfered. It is plain
your magic is weak. It is only
fair that I begin now."
I made about three passes in
the air, and then there was an
awful crash and that old tower
leaped into the sky in chunks,
along with a vast volcanic fountain
of fire that turned night to
noonday, and showed a thousand
acres of human beings groveling
on the ground in a general collapse
of consternation. Well, it rained
mortar and masonry the rest of
the week. This was the report;
but probably the facts would
have modified it.
It was an effective miracle.
The great bothersome temporary
population vanished. There were
a good many thousand tracks in
the mud the next morning, but
they were all outward bound.
If I had advertised another miracle
I couldn't have raised an audience
with a sheriff.
Merlin's stock was flat. The
king wanted to stop his wages;
he even wanted to banish him,
but I interfered. I said he would
be useful to work the weather,
and attend to small matters like
that, and I would give him a
lift now and then when his poor
little parlormagic soured on
him. There wasn't a rag of his
tower left, but I had the government
rebuild it for him, and advised
him to take boarders; but he
was too hightoned for that. And
as for being grateful, he never
even said thank you. He was a
rather hard lot, take him how
you might; but then you couldn't
fairly expect a man to be sweet
that had been set back so. |