by Mark Twain
that is sincere too. This town is not worthy to kiss the hem of your garment. Dear sir, I made a square bet with myself that there were nineteen debauchable men in your self-righteous community. I have lost. Take the whole pot, you are entitled to it."
Richards drew a deep sigh, and said:
"It seems written with fire--it burns so. Mary--I am miserable again."
"I, too. Ah, dear, I wish--"
"To think, Mary--he _believes_ in me."
"Oh, don't, Edward--I can't bear it."
"If those beautiful words were deserved, Mary--and God knows I believed Ideserved them once--I think I could give the forty thousand dollars forthem. And I would put that paper away, as representing more than goldand jewels, and keep it always. But now--We could not live in the shadowof its accusing presence, Mary."
He put it in the fire.
A messenger arrived and delivered an envelope. Richards took from it anote and read it; it was from Burgess:
"You saved me, in a difficult time. I saved you last night. It was at cost of a lie, but I made the sacrifice freely, and out of a grateful heart. None in this village knows so well as I know how brave and good and noble you are. At bottom you cannot respect me, knowing as you do of that matter of which I am accused, and by the general voice condemned; but I beg that you will at least believe that I am a grateful man; it will help me to bear my burden. [Signed] 'BURGESS.'"
"Saved, once more. And on such terms!" He put the note in the lire."I--I wish I were dead, Mary, I wish I were out of it all!"
"Oh, these are bitter, bitter days, Edward. The stabs, through theirvery generosity, are so deep--and they come so fast!"
Three days before the election each of two thousand voters suddenly foundhimself in possession of a prized memento--one of the renowned bogusdouble-eagles. Around one of its faces was stamped these words: "THEREMARK I MADE TO THE POOR STRANGER WAS--" Around the other face wasstamped these: "GO, AND REFORM. [SIGNED] PINKERTON." Thus the entireremaining refuse of the renowned joke was emptied upon a single head, andwith calamitous effect. It revived the recent vast laugh andconcentrated it upon Pinkerton; and Harkness's election was a walk-over.
Within twenty-four hours after the Richardses had received their chequestheir consciences were quieting down, discouraged; the old couple werelearning to reconcile themselves to the sin which they had committed. Butthey were to learn, now, that a sin takes on new and real terrors whenthere seems a chance that it is going to be found out. This gives it afresh and most substantial and important aspect. At church the morningsermon was of the usual pattern; it was the same old things said in thesame old way; they had heard them a thousand times and found theminnocuous, next to meaningless, and easy to sleep under; but now it wasdifferent: the sermon seemed to bristle with accusations; it seemed aimedstraight and specially at people who were concealing deadly sins. Afterchurch they got away from the mob of congratulators as soon as theycould, and hurried homeward, chilled to the bone at they did not knowwhat--vague, shadowy, indefinite fears. And by chance they caught aglimpse of Mr. Burgess as he turned a corner. He paid no attention totheir nod of recognition! He hadn't seen it; but they did not know that.What could his conduct mean? It might mean--it might--mean--oh, a dozendreadful things. Was it possible that he knew that Richards could havecleared him of guilt in that bygone time, and had been silently waitingfor a chance to even up accounts? At home, in their distress they got toimagining that their servant might have been in the next room listeningwhen Richards revealed the secret to his wife that he knew of Burgess'sinnocence; next Richards began to imagine that he had heard the swish ofa gown in there at that time; next, he was sure he _had_ heard it. Theywould call Sarah in, on a pretext, and watch her face; if she had beenbetraying them to Mr. Burgess, it would show in her manner. They askedher some questions--questions which were so random and incoherent andseemingly purposeless that the girl felt sure that the old people's mindshad been affected by their sudden good fortune; the sharp and watchfulgaze which they bent upon her frightened her, and that completed thebusiness. She blushed, she became nervous and confused, and to the oldpeople these were plain signs of guilt--guilt of some fearful sort orother--without doubt she was a spy and a traitor. When they were aloneagain they began to piece many unrelated things together and get horribleresults out of the combination. When things had got about to the worstRichards was delivered of a sudden gasp and his wife asked:
"Oh, what is it?--what is it?"
"The note--Burgess's note! Its language was sarcastic, I see it now." Hequoted: "'At bottom you cannot respect me, _knowing_, as you do, of _thatmatter of_ which I am accused'--oh, it is perfectly plain, now, God helpme! He knows that I know! You see the ingenuity of the phrasing. Itwas a trap--and like a fool, I walked into it. And Mary--!"
"Oh, it is dreadful--I know what you are going to say--he didn't returnyour transcript of the pretended test-remark."
"No--kept it to destroy us with. Mary, he has exposed us to somealready. I know it--I know it well. I saw it in a dozen faces afterchurch. Ah, he wouldn't answer our nod of recognition--he knew what hehad been doing!"
In the night the doctor was called. The news went around in the morningthat the old couple were rather seriously ill--prostrated by theexhausting excitement growing out of their great windfall, thecongratulations, and the late hours, the doctor said. The town wassincerely distressed; for these old people were about all it had left tobe proud of, now.
Two days later the news was worse. The old couple were delirious, andwere doing strange things. By witness of the nurses, Richards hadexhibited cheques--for $8,500? No--for an amazing sum--$38,500! Whatcould be the explanation of this gigantic piece of luck?
The following day the nurses had more news--and wonderful. They hadconcluded to hide the cheques, lest harm come to them; but when theysearched they were gone from under the patient's pillow--vanished away.The patient said:
"Let the pillow alone; what do you want?"
"We thought it best that the cheques--"
"You will never see them again--they are destroyed. They came fromSatan. I saw the hell-brand on them, and I knew they were sent to betrayme to sin." Then he fell to gabbling strange and dreadful things whichwere not clearly understandable, and which the doctor admonished them tokeep to themselves.
Richards was right; the cheques were never seen again.
A nurse must have talked in her sleep, for within two days the forbiddengabblings were the property of the town; and they were of a surprisingsort. They seemed to indicate that Richards had been a claimant for thesack himself, and that Burgess had concealed that fact and thenmaliciously betrayed it.
Burgess was taxed with this and stoutly denied it. And he said it wasnot fair to attach weight to the chatter of a sick old man who was out ofhis mind. Still, suspicion was in the air, and there was much talk.
After a day or two it was reported that Mrs. Richards's deliriousdeliveries were getting to be duplicates of her husband's. Suspicionflamed up into conviction, now, and the town's pride in the purity of itsone undiscredited important citizen began to dim down and flicker towardextinction.
Six days passed, then came more news. The old couple were dying.Richards's mind cleared in his latest hour, and he sent for Burgess.Burgess said:
"Let the room be cleared. I think he wishes to say something inprivacy."
"No!" said Richards; "I want witnesses. I want you all to hear myconfession, so that I may die a man, and not a dog. I wasclean--artificially--like the rest; and like the rest I fell whentemptation came. I signed a lie, and claimed the miserable sack. Mr.Burgess remembered that I had done him a service, and in gratitude (andignorance) he suppressed my claim and saved me. You know the thing thatwas charged against Burgess years ago. My testimony, and mine alone,could have cleared him, and I was a coward and left him to sufferdisgrace--"
"No--no--Mr. Richards, you--"
"My ser
vant betrayed my secret to him--"
"No one has betrayed anything to me--"
--"And then he did a natural and justifiable thing; he repented of thesaving kindness which he had done me, and he _exposed_ me--as Ideserved--"
"Never!--I make oath--"
"Out of my heart I forgive him."
Burgess's impassioned protestations fell upon deaf ears; the dying manpassed away without knowing that once more he had done poor Burgess awrong. The old wife died that night.
The last of the sacred Nineteen had fallen a prey to the fiendish sack;the town was stripped of the last rag of its ancient glory. Its mourningwas not showy, but it was deep.
By act of the Legislature--upon prayer and petition--Hadleyburg wasallowed to change its name
