by Mark Twain
"Look at the bottle," he said, holding it up; "it is full yet!" I glanced at Satan, and in that moment he vanished. The priest rose up, flushed and excited, crossed himself, and began to thunder in his bull voice: "This house is bewitched and accursed!" People began to cry and shriek and crowd toward the door. "I summon this detected household to . . . ." I saw Satan, a transparent film, melt into the priest's body; then the priest put up his hand, and apparently in his own big voice said, "Wait-remain where you are." All stopped where they stood. "Bring a funnel." Ursula brought it, trembling and scared, and he stuck it in the bottle and took up the great bowl and began to pour the wine back, the people gazing and dazed with astonishment, for they knew that the bottle was already full before he began. He emptied the whole of the bowl into the bottle, then smiled out over the room, chuckled, and said, indifferently, "It is nothing-anybody can do it!"
A frightened cry burst out everywhere, "Oh, my God, he is possessed!" and there was a tumultuous rush for the door which swiftly emptied the house of all who did not belong in it except us boys and Meidling. We boys knew the secret, and would have told it if we could, but we couldn't. We were very thankful to Satan for furnishing that good help at the needful time.
Marget was pale, and crying, Meidling looked kind of petrified; Ursula the same; but Gottfried was the worst-he couldn't stand, he was so weak and scared. For he was of a witch family, you know, and it would be bad for him to be suspected of witching a priest. Agnes came loafing in, looking pious and unaware, and wanted to rub up against Ursula and be petted, but Ursula was afraid of her and shrank away from her, but pretending she was not meaning any incivility, for she knew very well it wouldn't answer to have strained relations with that kind of a cat. But we boys took Agnes and petted her, for Satan would not have befriended her if he had not had a good opinion of her, and that was endorsement enough for us. He seemed to trust anything that hadn't the Moral Sense.
Outside the guests scattered in every direction and fled in a pitiable state of terror, gasping out to all they met, that Father Adolf was possessed of a devil; and such a tumult they made with their running and sobbing and shrieking and shouting that soon all the village came flocking from their houses to see what had happened, and they thronged the street and shouldered and jostled each other in their excitement and fright; and then Father Adolf appeared and they fell apart in two walls like the cloven Red Sea, and down this lane Father Adolf came striding and mumbling, and where he passed the lanes surged back in packed masses, and fell silent with awe, and their eyes stared and their breasts heaved, and several women fainted; and when he was gone by, the crowd swarmed together and followed him at a distance, talking excitedly and asking questions and finding out the facts. Finding out the facts and passing them on to others, with improvements; improvements which soon enlarged the bowl of wine to a barrel and made the one bottle hold it all and yet remain empty to the last.
When Father Adolf reached the market square he went straight to a juggler fantastically dressed, who was keeping three brass balls in the air and took them from him and faced around upon the approaching crowd and said-
"This poor clown is ignorant of his art. Come forward and see an expert perform."
So saying he tossed the balls up one after the other and set them whirling in a slender bright oval in the air, and added another, then another and another and so on-no one seeing whence he got them -adding, adding, adding, the oval lengthening and lengthening all the time, his hands moving so swiftly that they were just a web or a blur and not distinguishable as hands; and such as counted said there were now a hundred balls in the air. The spinning great oval reached up twenty feet in the air and was a shining and glinting and wonderful sight. Then he folded his arms and told the balls to go on spinning without his help-and they did it. After a couple of minutes he said, "There, that will do," and the oval broke and came crashing down and the balls scattered abroad and rolled every whither. And wherever one of them came, the people fell back in dread, and no one would touch it. It made him laugh, and he scoffed at the people and called them cowards and old women. Then he turned and saw the tight-rope, and said foolish people were daily wasting their money to see a clumsy and ignorant varlet degrade that beautiful art-now they should see the work of a master. With that he made a spring into the air and lit firm on his feet on the rope. Then he hopped the whole length of it back and forth on one foot, with his hands clasped over his eyes; and next he began to throw summersaults, both backward and forward, and threw twenty-seven.
The people murmured, and were deeply scandalised to see a priest do such worldly things; but he was not disturbed, and went on with his antics just the same. Finally he sprang lightly down and walked away, and passed up the road and around a corner and disappeared. Then that great pale, silent, solid crowd drew a deep breath, and looked into each others' faces as if they said, "Was it real? Did you see it, or was it only I-and was I dreaming?" Then they broke into a low murmur of talking, and fell apart in couples and moved toward their homes, still talking in that awed way with their faces close together and laying a hand on an arm and making other such gestures as people make when they have been deeply impressed by something.
We boys followed behind our fathers, and listened, catching all we could of what they said; and when they sat down in our house and continued their talk they still had us for company. They were in a sad mood, for it was certain, they said, that disaster for the village must follow this awful visitation of witches and devils.
"They have not ventured to lay their hands upon an anointed servant of God before," said my father; "and how they could have dared it this time I cannot make out; for he wore his crucifix-isn't it so?"
"Yes," said the others, "we saw it."
"It is serious, friends, it is very serious. Always before, we had a protection. It has failed."
The others shook, as with a sort of chill, and muttered those words over-
"It has failed."
"God has forsaken us."
"It is true," said Seppi Wohlmeyer's father, "there is nowhere to look for help."
"The people will realise this," said Nikolaus's father the judge, "and despair will take away their courage and their energies. We have indeed fallen upon evil times."
He sighed, and Wohlmeyer said in a troubled voice-
"The report of it will go about the country and our village will be shunned, as being under the displeasure of God. The Golden Stag will know hard times."
"True, neighbor," said my father, "all of us will suffer-all in repute, many in estate. And good God!"
"What is it!"
"That can come-to finish us!"
"Name it-um Gottes Willen!"
"The Interdict!"
It smote like a thunderclap, and they were like to swoon with the terror of it. Then the dread of this calamity roused their energies, and they stopped brooding and began to consider ways to avert it. They discussed this, that and the other way, knowing all the time that there was but one best way, yet all being afraid to mention it. But it had to come out at last: the witch-commission must summon the priest and put him on his trial, and somebody must go and call the commission's attention to its duty, for otherwise it would shirk its duty, naturally fearing to proceed against a priest, and they, like all the community, being hardly less afraid of this particular priest than of the strangely intrepid devil that was in him. Whoever pushed the commission to its work would be in trouble, for Father Adolf would know of it promptly through betrayal of the informer by the commission, and would mark that man.
They were in a trying position, now: if they moved in this matter and the priest escaped the stake, he would ruin them; if they kept silence, there was the possible interdict, a calamity of which they would get their share. They talked and talked till the afternoon was far spent, then confessed that at present they could arrive at no decision. So they parted sorrowfully, with oppressed hearts which were filled with bodings.
While they were sayi
ng their parting words I slipped out and set my course for Marget's house to see what was happening there. I met many people, but none of them greeted me. It ought to have been surprising, but it was not, for they were so distraught with fear and dread that they were not in their right minds, I think; they were white and haggard, and walked like persons in a dream, their eyes open but seeing nothing, their lips moving but uttering nothing, and worriedly clasping and unclasping their hands without knowing it.
At Marget's it was like a funeral. She and Wilhelm sat together on the sofa, but saying nothing, and not even holding hands. Both were steeped in gloom, and Marget's eyes were red from the crying she had been doing. She said-
"I have been begging him to go, and come no more, and so save himself alive. I cannot bear to be his murderer. This house is bewitched, and no inmate of it will escape the fire. But he will not go; and he will be lost with the rest."
Wilhelm said he would not go; if there was danger for her, his place was by her and there he would remain. She said dear sweet things to him for that, and he said they made him very happy, but he could not change his mind. Then she began to cry again, and it was all so mournful that I wished I had stayed away. There was a knock, now, and Satan came in, fresh and cheery and beautiful, and brought that winy atmosphere of his and changed the whole thing. He never said a word about what had been happening, nor about the awful fears which were freezing the blood in the hearts of the community, but began to talk and rattle on about all manner of gay and pleasant things; and next about music-an artful stroke which cleared away the remnant of Marget's depression and brought her spirits and her interest broad awake. She had not heard any one talk so well and so knowingly on that subject before; and she was so uplifted by it and so charmed that what she was feeling lit up her face and came out in her words, and Wilhelm noticed it and did not look as pleased as he ought to have done. And next Satan branched off into poetry, and recited some, and did it well, and Marget was charmed again; and again Wilhelm was not as pleased as he ought to have been, and this time Marget noticed it and was remorseful, and said-
"Wilhelm writes poetry, and I think it is beautiful."
Then she went on to tell about a poem he had written the day before, and she and Satan persuaded him to read it. He was greatly pleased and mollified, and not hard to persuade. It was a very stirring tale about a girl who was carried off by bandits, and was followed through a thunderous and stormy night by her lover, who rescued her and drove off the captors, killing several of them in a brave fight, but in his turn receiving wounds of which he died just as the morning sun was brightening the world with hope and happiness. It was moving and fine, and he read it well, and was entitled to praise, and got it in full measure from both Marget and Satan.
Next, Marget proposed that Wilhelm and Philip vary the entertainment with a game of chess, and she would look on. I knew what her idea was. She was proud of Wilhelm's poetical success and of the praise it had won from Philip, and she wanted to show off Wilhelm still further and raise him still higher in the stranger's esteem; for Wilhelm was champion at chess in all that region and accustomed to giving the odds of a castle to the next best man. But it was my opinion that she was making a mistake this time; she would better try to show off Wilhelm in some other way, it seemed to me.
Satan said he was ready to play, and glad. Then he added, in his frank and confident way, that he was a good player, and so, to be fair, he would play against both of them if they were willing. It amused Wilhelm, who said-
"I see you don't know my reputation; but let it be as you say."
At the associated pair's ninth move, Satan said-
"There, the game is mine: checkmate in nineteen moves. Let us play another."
He was going to re-set the pieces; but Wilhelm stopped him, and said-
"Ali, wait. We will see about that. You will probably change your opinion before many minutes. I'm not in the habit of surrendering to remote possibilities."
"But this isn't a remote possibility, it is a certainty."
"I don't see how you can know that. And I don't begin to believe it. Let us continue."
"Very well. It is your privilege-but it wastes time."
Ile moved. The couple made an answering move, and Satan said-
"You are worse off, now: checkmate in fourteen moves."
Wilhelm was annoyed, but he said nothing; only bit his lip. Satan moved; the couple studied a painful while; considered and discussed various moves, then made one. Satan said-
"Checkmate in eleven moves"-and moved queen's castle.
Wilhelm flushed, but held his peace. After cautious deliberation the couple decided upon a move and made it.
"Checkmate in seven moves," said Satan, advancing his queen.
Wilhelm was sorely tried, but he kept his temper. Kept it, but continued the game, and was finally checkmated, of course.
"It is a defeat," he said, "and I confess it. I believe you are stronger than I am." Then he added, "particularly in guessing."
Guessing those checkmates so far ahead was what he meant; but Satan made no comment. Wilhelm asked the odds of a knight, and they played again. Wilhelm lost. Then he took the odds of both knights and was again defeated. His temper almost got the better of him, now. He said, ironically, that perhaps Philip could even give his queen away and beat him. But Satan said-
"Yes. Let us begin."
Of course he beat him. I think he could have beaten him with a pawn. Wilhelm was so vexed, by this time, that Marget cast about for a change of subject, to save the situation. She chose music, and it was a good selection. The talk flowed pleasantly along, and things were soon in a satisfactory condition again. By and by Marget said-
"Surely, with your knowledge of music, you must be able to play. You do play, don't you?"
"Oh, certainly," said Satan, "I am a good player."
It was strange, the way he could say such things as that, and not exasperate people. It didn't seem conceited, in him, any more than it would seem conceited in a fish to say "Yes, I am a good swimmer."
"Then do play something. The spinet is old and jingly-jangly and a little out of tune, but you won't mind that, will you."
"Oh, no, I can make it musical. Let me see-what shall I play? I will play the poem-we will chase the bandits and rescue the captive girl."
"Oh, that will be lovely! But can you make it up as you go along?"
"Yes, that is easy."
I was in raptures to see him show off so. It was a great long poem, and just the thing. He sat down, and his fingers began to glide up and down the keys. It was a wonder to look at those two people sitting there, their lips parted and their breath hardly coming, the picture of astonishment. For this was no music such as they had ever heard before. It was not one instrument talking, it was a whole vague, dreamy, far-off orchestra-flutes, and violins, and silver horns, and drums, and cymbals, and all manner of other instruments, blending their soft tones in one rich stream of harmony. And it was mournful and touching; for this was the lover realising his loss. Then Satan began to chant the words of that poor fellow's lament-gentle and low; and the water rose in those two people's eves, for they had heard no voice like that before, nor had any one heard the like of it except in heaven, where it came from. Little by little the music and the singing rose louder out of the distance-the lover was coming, he was on his way. And ever the singing and the music grew; and the storm began to gather and move toward us, with the wind sighing, the thunder muttering and the lightning playing; and on it came, just as if you could see it, and see the lover's horse racing and straining down in the pursuing front of it; and so, with a boom and a roar and a crash it burst upon us in one final grand explosion of noble sounds, and then the battle began, the victory was won, the storm passed, the morning came, and the lover lay dying in the maiden's arms, with her tears falling upon his face and the precious music of her endearments fading upon his ear.
It was finished, and we sat drowned in that ecstasy, and nu
mb and dumb and only half conscious. When we came out of it Satan was gone. All sat thinking-going over the details of that marvelous picture painted in music, and trying to fix them in the memory for a perpetual possession. Finally Marget rose up, half dazed, and went to the spinet and stood looking at it. She struck a chord. Of course she got only the old effeminate tinkle-tankle the thing was born with. She turned away with a sigh.
"Ali, how did he do it?" she said.
"And how did he remember that long poem and never miss a word?" said Wilhelm. "I think he is the Devil."
"Or an angel," said Marget. "Tell me about him, Theodor; tell me all you know."
But I got away; saying I should be punished if I was not home to supper.
Chapter 5
NEXT DAY everybody was talking-but under their breath. They were talking sharply critical talk about the witch-commission. "Why haven't the commission summoned Father Adolf for examination? if it were some friendless old woman who had done those Satanic miracles with the bowl, the bottle and the brazen balls, would they be so lax?" That is what the public said-in a whisper. Always confidentially; adding, "Please don't quote me-don't say I said anything." You see they were prompt to blame the committee for being afraid of Father Adolf, yet at the same time they forgot to despise their own cowardice in not holding up the committee's hands and encouraging them to their duty. And they forgot that in despising the committee for being so brave when friendless old women were concerned, they were only despising themselves, for that was their own daring attitude toward friendless old women. Satan would have had a laugh at all this if he had been about. He would have said "It is like the human race; they have a fine large opinion of themselves, with nothing to found it on."
