WELL, what
had I better do? Nothing in
a hurry, sure. I must get up
a diversion; anything to
employ me while I could think, and while these poor
fellows could have a chance to come to life again.
There sat Marco, petrified in the act of trying to get
the hang of his miller-gun -- turned to stone, just in
the attitude he was in when my pile-driver fell, the toy
still gripped in his unconscious fingers. So I took it
from him and proposed to explain its mystery.
Mystery! a simple little thing like that; and yet it
was mysterious enough, for that race and that age.
I never saw
such an awkward people, with
machinery; you see,
they were totally unused to it.
The miller-gun was a little double-barreled
tube of toughened glass, with
a neat little trick of a spring
to it, which upon pressure would
let a shot escape. But the shot
wouldn't hurt anybody, it would
only drop into your hand. In
the gun were two sizes -- wee
mustardseed shot, and another
sort that were several times
larger. They were money. The
mustard-seed shot represented
milrays, the larger ones mills.
So the gun was a purse; and very
handy, too; you could pay out
money in the dark with it, with
accuracy; and you could carry
it in your mouth; or in your
vest pocket, if you had one.
I made them of several sizes
-- one size so large that it
would carry the equivalent of
a dollar. Using shot for money
was a good thing for the government;
the metal cost nothing, and the
money couldn't be counterfeited,
for I was the only person in
the kingdom who knew how to manage
a shot tower. "Paying the shot" soon
came to be a common phrase. Yes,
and I knew it would still be
passing men's lips, away down
in the nineteenth century, yet
none would suspect how and when
it originated.
The king joined us, about this
time, mightily refreshed by his
nap, and feeling good. Anything
could make me nervous now, I
was so uneasy -- for our lives
were in danger; and so it worried
me to detect a complacent something
in the king's eye which seemed
to indicate that he had been
loading himself up for a performance
of some kind or other; confound
it, why must he go and choose
such a time as this?
I was right.
He began, straight off, in
the most innocently artful,
and transparent, and lubberly
way, to lead up to the subject
of agriculture. The cold sweat
broke out all over me. I wanted
to whisper in his ear, "Man,
we are in awful danger! every
moment is worth a principality
till we get back these men's
confidence; DON'T waste any of
this golden time." But of course
I couldn't do it. Whisper to
him? It would look as if we were
conspiring. So I had to sit there
and look calm and pleasant while
the king stood over that dynamite
mine and mooned along about his
damned onions and things. At
first the tumult of my own thoughts,
summoned by the danger-signal
and swarming to the rescue from
every quarter of my skull, kept
up such a hurrah and confusion
and fifing and drumming that
I couldn't take in a word; but
presently when my mob of gathering
plans began to crystallize and
fall into position and form line
of battle, a sort of order and
quiet ensued and I caught the
boom of the king's batteries,
as if out of remote distance:
"-- were not
the best way, methinks, albeit
it is not to
be denied that authorities differ
as concerning this point, some
contending that the onion is
but an unwholesome berry when
stricken early from the tree
--"
The audience showed signs of
life, and sought each other's
eyes in a surprised and troubled
way.
"-- whileas
others do yet maintain, with
much show of reason, that
this is not of necessity the
case, instancing that plums and
other like cereals do be always
dug in the unripe state --"
The audience exhibited distinct
distress; yes, and also fear.
"-- yet are
they clearly wholesome, the
more especially when one
doth assuage the asperities of
their nature by admixture of
the tranquilizing juice of the
wayward cabbage --"
The wild light
of terror began to glow in
these men's eyes,
and one of them muttered, "These
be errors, every one -- God hath
surely smitten the mind of this
farmer." I was in miserable apprehension;
I sat upon thorns.
"-- and further
instancing the known truth
that in the case
of animals, the young, which
may be called the green fruit
of the creature, is the better,
all confessing that when a goat
is ripe, his fur doth heat and
sore engame his flesh, the which
defect, taken in connection with
his several rancid habits, and
fulsome appetites, and godless
attitudes of mind, and bilious
quality of morals --"
They rose and
went for him! With a fierce
shout, "The one
would betray us, the other is
mad! Kill them! Kill them!" they
flung themselves upon us. What
joy flamed up in the king's eye!
He might be lame in agriculture,
but this kind of thing was just
in his line. He had been fasting
long, he was hungry for a fight.
He hit the blacksmith a crack
under the jaw that lifted him
clear off his feet and stretched
him flat on his back. "St. George
for Britain!" and he downed the
wheelwright. The mason was big,
but I laid him out like nothing.
The three gathered themselves
up and came again; went down
again; came again; and kept on
repeating this, with native British
pluck, until they were battered
to jelly, reeling with exhaustion,
and so blind that they couldn't
tell us from each other; and
yet they kept right on, hammering
away with what might was left
in them. Hammering each other
-- for we stepped aside and looked
on while they rolled, and struggled,
and gouged, and pounded, and
bit, with the strict and wordless
attention to business of so many
bulldogs. We looked on without
apprehension, for they were fast
getting past ability to go for
help against us, and the arena
was far enough from the public
road to be safe from intrusion.
Well, while they were gradually
playing out, it suddenly occurred
to me to wonder what had become
of Marco. I looked around; he
was nowhere to be seen. Oh, but
this was ominous! I pulled the
king's sleeve, and we glided
away and rushed for the hut.
No Marco there, no Phyllis there!
They had gone to the road for
help, sure. I told the king to
give his heels wings, and I would
explain later. We made good time
across the open ground, and as
we darted into the shelter of
the wood I glanced back and saw
a mob of excited peasants swarm
into view, with Marco and his
wife at their head. They were
making a world of noise, but
that couldn't hurt anybody; the
wood was dense, and as soon as
we were well into its depths
we would take to a tree and let
them whistle. Ah, but then came
another sound -- dogs! Yes, that
was quite another matter. It
magnified our contract -- we
must find running water.
We tore along at a good gait,
and soon left the sounds far
behind and modified to a murmur.
We struck a stream and darted
into it. We waded swiftly down
it, in the dim forest light,
for as much as three hundred
yards, and then came across an
oak with a great bough sticking
out over the water. We climbed
up on this bough, and began to
work our way along it to the
body of the tree; now we began
to hear those sounds more plainly;
so the mob had struck our trail.
For a while the sounds approached
pretty fast. And then for another
while they didn't. No doubt the
dogs had found the place where
we had entered the stream, and
were now waltzing up and down
the shores trying to pick up
the trail again.
When we were snugly lodged
in the tree and curtained with
foliage, the king was satisfied,
but I was doubtful. I believed
we could crawl along a branch
and get into the next tree, and
I judged it worth while to try.
We tried it, and made a success
of it, though the king slipped,
at the junction, and came near
failing to connect. We got comfortable
lodgment and satisfactory concealment
among the foliage, and then we
had nothing to do but listen
to the hunt.
Presently we heard it coming
-- and coming on the jump, too;
yes, and down both sides of the
stream. Louder -- louder -- next
minute it swelled swiftly up
into a roar of shoutings, barkings,
tramplings, and swept by like
a cyclone.
"I was afraid that the overhanging
branch would suggest something
to them," said I, "but I don't
mind the disappointment. Come,
my liege, it were well that we
make good use of our time. We've
flanked them. Dark is coming
on, presently. If we can cross
the stream and get a good start,
and borrow a couple of horses
from somebody's pasture to use
for a few hours, we shall be
safe enough."
We started down, and got nearly
to the lowest limb, when we seemed
to hear the hunt returning. We
stopped to listen.
"Yes," said I, "they're
baffled, they've given it up,
they're
on their way home. We will climb
back to our roost again, and
let them go by."
So we climbed back. The king
listened a moment and said:
"They still
search -- I wit the sign. We
did best to abide."
He was right. He knew more
about hunting than I did. The
noise approached steadily, but
not with a rush. The king said:
"They reason
that we were advantaged by
no parlous start of them,
and being on foot are as yet
no mighty way from where we took
the water."
"Yes, sire,
that is about it, I am afraid,
though I was hoping
better things."
The noise drew nearer and nearer,
and soon the van was drifting
under us, on both sides of the
water. A voice called a halt
from the other bank, and said:
"An they were
so minded, they could get to
yon tree by this
branch that overhangs, and yet
not touch ground. Ye will do
well to send a man up it."
"Marry, that
we will do!"
I was obliged to admire my
cuteness in foreseeing this very
thing and swapping trees to beat
it. But, don't you know, there
are some things that can beat
smartness and foresight? Awkwardness
and stupidity can. The best swordsman
in the world doesn't need to
fear the second best swordsman
in the world; no, the person
for him to be afraid of is some
ignorant antagonist who has never
had a sword in his hand before;
he doesn't do the thing he ought
to do, and so the expert isn't
prepared for him; he does the
thing he ought not to do; and
often it catches the expert out
and ends him on the spot. Well,
how could I, with all my gifts,
make any valuable preparation
against a near-sighted, cross-eyed,
pudding-headed clown who would
aim himself at the wrong tree
and hit the right one? And that
is what he did. He went for the
wrong tree, which was, of course,
the right one by mistake, and
up he started.
Matters were serious now. We
remained still, and awaited developments.
The peasant toiled his difficult
way up. The king raised himself
up and stood; he made a leg ready,
and when the comer's head arrived
in reach of it there was a dull
thud, and down went the man floundering
to the ground. There was a wild
outbreak of anger below, and
the mob swarmed in from all around,
and there we were treed, and
prisoners. Another man started
up; the bridging bough was detected,
and a volunteer started up the
tree that furnished the bridge.
The king ordered me to play Horatius
and keep the bridge. For a while
the enemy came thick and fast;
but no matter, the head man of
each procession always got a
buffet that dislodged him as
soon as he came in reach. The
king's spirits rose, his joy
was limitless. He said that if
nothing occurred to mar the prospect
we should have a beautiful night,
for on this line of tactics we
could hold the tree against the
whole country-side.
However, the mob soon came
to that conclusion themselves;
wherefore they called off the
assault and began to debate other
plans. They had no weapons, but
there were plenty of stones,
and stones might answer. We had
no objections. A stone might
possibly penetrate to us once
in a while, but it wasn't very
likely; we were well protected
by boughs and foliage, and were
not visible from any good aiming
point. If they would but waste
half an hour in stonethrowing,
the dark would come to our help.
We were feeling very well satisfied.
We could smile; almost laugh.
But we didn't; which was just
as well, for we should have been
interrupted. Before the stones
had been raging through the leaves
and bouncing from the boughs
fifteen minutes, we began to
notice a smell. A couple of sniffs
of it was enough of an explanation
-- it was smoke! Our game was
up at last. We recognized that.
When smoke invites you, you have
to come. They raised their pile
of dry brush and damp weeds higher
and higher, and when they saw
the thick cloud begin to roll
up and smother the tree, they
broke out in a storm of joy-clamors.
I got enough breath to say:
"Proceed, my
liege; after you is manners."
The king gasped:
"Follow me
down, and then back thyself
against one side of the
trunk, and leave me the other.
Then will we fight. Let each
pile his dead according to his
own fashion and taste."
Then he descended, barking
and coughing, and I followed.
I struck the ground an instant
after him; we sprang to our appointed
places, and began to give and
take with all our might. The
powwow and racket were prodigious;
it was a tempest of riot and
confusion and thick-falling blows.
Suddenly some horsemen tore into
the midst of the crowd, and a
voice shouted:
"Hold -- or
ye are dead men!"
How good it sounded! The owner
of the voice bore all the marks
of a gentleman: picturesque and
costly raiment, the aspect of
command, a hard countenance,
with complexion and features
marred by dissipation. The mob
fell humbly back, like so many
spaniels. The gentleman inspected
us critically, then said sharply
to the peasants:
"What are ye
doing to these people?"
"They be madmen,
worshipful sir, that have come
wandering
we know not whence, and --"
"Ye know not
whence? Do ye pretend ye know
them not?"
"Most honored
sir, we speak but the truth.
They are strangers
and unknown to any in this region;
and they be the most violent
and bloodthirsty madmen that
ever --"
"Peace! Ye
know not what ye say. They
are not mad. Who are
ye? And whence are ye? Explain."
"We are but peaceful strangers,
sir," I said, "and traveling
upon our own concerns. We are
from a far country, and unacquainted
here. We have purposed no harm;
and yet but for your brave interference
and protection these people would
have killed us. As you have divined,
sir, we are not mad; neither
are we violent or bloodthirsty."
The gentleman
turned to his retinue and said
calmly: "Lash
me these animals to their kennels!"
The mob vanished in an instant;
and after them plunged the horsemen,
laying about them with their
whips and pitilessly riding down
such as were witless enough to
keep the road instead of taking
to the bush. The shrieks and
supplications presently died
away in the distance, and soon
the horsemen began to straggle
back. Meantime the gentleman
had been questioning us more
closely, but had dug no particulars
out of us. We were lavish of
recognition of the service he
was doing us, but we revealed
nothing more than that we were
friendless strangers from a far
country. When the escort were
all returned, the gentleman said
to one of his servants:
"Bring the
led-horses and mount these
people."
"Yes, my lord."
We were placed toward the rear,
among the servants. We traveled
pretty fast, and finally drew
rein some time after dark at
a roadside inn some ten or twelve
miles from the scene of our troubles.
My lord went immediately to his
room, after ordering his supper,
and we saw no more of him. At
dawn in the morning we breakfasted
and made ready to start.
My lord's chief attendant sauntered
forward at that moment with indolent
grace, and said:
"Ye have said
ye should continue upon this
road, which is our
direction likewise; wherefore
my lord, the earl Grip, hath
given commandment that ye retain
the horses and ride, and that
certain of us ride with ye a
twenty mile to a fair town that
hight Cambenet, whenso ye shall
be out of peril."
We could do
nothing less than express our
thanks and accept
the offer. We jogged along, six
in the party, at a moderate and
comfortable gait, and in conversation
learned that my lord Grip was
a very great personage in his
own region, which lay a day's
journey beyond Cambenet. We loitered
to such a degree that it was
near the middle of the forenoon
when we entered the market square
of the town. We dismounted, and
left our thanks once more for
my lord, and then approached
a crowd assembled in the center
of the square, to see what might
be the object of interest. It
was the remnant of that old peregrinating
band of slaves! So they had been
dragging their chains about,
all this weary time. That poor
husband was gone, and also many
others; and some few purchases
had been added to the gang. The
king was not interested, and
wanted to move along, but I was
absorbed, and full of pity. I
could not take my eyes away from
these worn and wasted wrecks
of humanity. There they sat,
grounded upon the ground, silent,
uncomplaining, with bowed heads,
a pathetic sight. And by hideous
contrast, a redundant orator
was making a speech to another
gathering not thirty steps away,
in fulsome laudation of "our
glorious British liberties!"
I was boiling. I had forgotten
I was a plebeian, I was remembering
I was a man. Cost what it might,
I would mount that rostrum and
--
Click! the king and I were
handcuffed together! Our companions,
those servants, had done it;
my lord Grip stood looking on.
The king burst out in a fury,
and said:
"What meaneth
this ill-mannered jest?"
My lord merely said to his
head miscreant, coolly:
"Put up the
slaves and sell them!"
SLAVES! The word had a new
sound -- and how unspeakably
awful! The king lifted his manacles
and brought them down with a
deadly force; but my lord was
out of the way when they arrived.
A dozen of the rascal's servants
sprang forward, and in a moment
we were helpless, with our hands
bound behind us. We so loudly
and so earnestly proclaimed ourselves
freemen, that we got the interested
attention of that liberty-mouthing
orator and his patriotic crowd,
and they gathered about us and
assumed a very determined attitude.
The orator said:
"If, indeed,
ye are freemen, ye have nought
to fear -- the
God-given liberties of Britain
are about ye for your shield
and shelter! (Applause.) Ye shall
soon see. Bring forth your proofs."
"What proofs?"
"Proof that
ye are freemen."
Ah -- I remembered! I came
to myself; I said nothing. But
the king stormed out:
"Thou'rt insane,
man. It were better, and more
in reason, that
this thief and scoundrel here
prove that we are NOT freemen."
You see, he knew his own laws
just as other people so often
know the laws; by words, not
by effects. They take a MEANING,
and get to be very vivid, when
you come to apply them to yourself.
All hands shook their heads
and looked disappointed; some
turned away, no longer interested.
The orator said -- and this time
in the tones of business, not
of sentiment:
"An ye do not
know your country's laws, it
were time ye learned
them. Ye are strangers to us;
ye will not deny that. Ye may
be freemen, we do not deny that;
but also ye may be slaves. The
law is clear: it doth not require
the claimant to prove ye are
slaves, it requireth you to prove
ye are not."
I said:
"Dear sir,
give us only time to send to
Astolat; or give us
only time to send to the Valley
of Holiness --"
"Peace, good
man, these are extraordinary
requests, and you
may not hope to have them granted.
It would cost much time, and
would unwarrantably inconvenience
your master --"
"MASTER, idiot!" stormed the
king. "I have no master, I myself
am the m--"
"Silence, for
God's sake!"
I got the words out in time
to stop the king. We were in
trouble enough already; it could
not help us any to give these
people the notion that we were
lunatics.
There is no use in stringing
out the details. The earl put
us up and sold us at auction.
This same infernal law had existed
in our own South in my own time,
more than thirteen hundred years
later, and under it hundreds
of freemen who could not prove
that they were freemen had been
sold into lifelong slavery without
the circumstance making any particular
impression upon me; but the minute
law and the auction block came
into my personal experience,
a thing which had been merely
improper before became suddenly
hellish. Well, that's the way
we are made.
Yes, we were sold at auction,
like swine. In a big town and
an active market we should have
brought a good price; but this
place was utterly stagnant and
so we sold at a figure which
makes me ashamed, every time
I think of it. The King of England
brought seven dollars, and his
prime minister nine; whereas
the king was easily worth twelve
dollars and I as easily worth
fifteen. But that is the way
things always go; if you force
a sale on a dull market, I don't
care what the property is, you
are going to make a poor business
of it, and you can make up your
mind to it. If the earl had had
wit enough to --
However, there is no occasion
for my working my sympathies
up on his account. Let him go,
for the present; I took his number,
so to speak.
The slave-dealer bought us
both, and hitched us onto that
long chain of his, and we constituted
the rear of his procession. We
took up our line of march and
passed out of Cambenet at noon;
and it seemed to me unaccountably
strange and odd that the King
of England and his chief minister,
marching manacled and fettered
and yoked, in a slave convoy,
could move by all manner of idle
men and women, and under windows
where sat the sweet and the lovely,
and yet never attract a curious
eye, never provoke a single remark.
Dear, dear, it only shows that
there is nothing diviner about
a king than there is about a
tramp, after all. He is just
a cheap and hollow artificiality
when you don't know he is a king.
But reveal his quality, and dear
me it takes your very breath
away to look at him. I reckon
we are all fools. Born so, no
doubt.
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