The Mysterious stranger - Chapter 3

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Episode Transcript

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Chapter three of The Mysterious Stranger byMark Twain. This is a LibriVox recording.
All LibriVox recordings are in the publicdomain. For more information or to
volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. Read by Patrick seventy nine, Chapter
three, The Stranger I had seeneverything. He had been everywhere. He

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knew everything, and he forgot nothing. What another must study he learned at
a glance. There was no difficultiesfor him, and he made things live
before you when he told you aboutthem. He saw the world maid,

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he saw Adam created. He sawSamson's searge against their pillars and bring the
temple down in the rheins about him. He saw Caesar's death. He told
of the daily life in heaven.He had seen the damned writhing in the

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red waves of hell. And hemade us see all these things. And
it was as if we were onthe spot and looking at them with our
own eyes, and we felt themtoo. But there was no sign that

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they were anything to him beyond mereentertainments. Those visions of hell, those
poor babes and women and girls,and lads of men shrieking and supplicating in
anguish. Why we could hardly bearit. But he was as bland about

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it as if he had been somany imitation rats in an artificial fire.
And always when he was talking aboutmen and women here on earth and their
doings, even the grandest and sublimestviver secretly ashamed for his manner showed that

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to him they were their doings wereof paltry, poor consequence. Often you
would think he was talking about flies, if you didn't know. Once he
even said, in so many wordsthat our people down here were quite interesting

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to him, notwithstanding that they wereso dull and ignorant, and trivial and
conceited, and so diseased and rickety, and such a shabby, poor,
worthless lot all around. He saidit in quite a matter of courseway,

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and without bitterness, just as aperson might talk about breaks or manure,
or anything that was of no consequenceand had feelings. I could see he
meant no offense. But in mythoughts I set it down as were not

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very good manners manners, He said, why, it is merely the truth,
and truth is good manners. Mannersare a fiction. The castle is
done? Do you like it?Any van would have been obliged to like

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it? It was lovely to lookat. It was so shapely and fine,
and so cunningly perfect in all itsparticular even to the little flags waving
on the turrets. Satan said,we must put the artillery in place now,

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and stationed them halberdiers and display thecavalry. Our men and horses were
re spectacle to see. They wereso little like like what they were intended
for, for of course, wehad no art in making such things.
Satan said they were the first hehad seen. And when we touched them

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and made them alive, it wasjust ridiculous the way they acted. On
account of their legs not being ofuniform length. They reeled and sprawled around
as if they were drunk, andendangered everybody's lives around them, and finally
fell over and lay helpless and kicking. It made us all laugh, though

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it was a shameful thing to see. The guns were charged with dirt to
fire a salute, but they wereso crooked and so badly made, that
they all burst when they went off, and killed some of the gunners and
crippled the others. Satan said thatwe would have a storm now and an

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earthquake if we liked, but wemust stand off a piece out of danger.
We wanted to call the people ofAy too, but he said,
never mind them. They were ofno consequence, and we could make more
sometime or other if we needed them. A small storm cloud began to settle

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down black over the castle, andminiature lightning and thunder began to play,
and the ground to quiver, andthe wind to pipe and wheeze, and
the rain to fall, and allthe people flocked into the castle for shelter.
The cloud settled down blacker and blacker, and one could see the castle

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only dimly through it. The lightningblazed out, flash upon flash, and
pierced the castle and set it onfire. And the flame shone out,
red and fierce through the cloud,and people came flying out, shrieking,

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but Satan brushed them back, payingno attention to our begging and crying and
imploring. And in the midst ofthe howling of the wind and the volleying
of the thunder, the magazine blewup. The earthquake rent the ground wide,
and the castle's wreck and ruin tumbledinto the chasm, which swallowed it

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from sight and closed upon it withall that innocent life, not one of
the five hundred poor creatures escaping.Oh, our hearts were broken. We
could not keep from crying. Don'tcry. Setan said, they were of

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no value, but they are goneto hell. Oh, it is no
matter. We can make plenty more. It was of no use to try
to move him. Evidently he waswholly without feeling and could not understand.

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He was full of bubbling spirits,and as gay as if this were a
ding instead of a fiendish massacre.And he was bent on making us feel
as he did, And of coursehis magic accomplished his desire. It was
no trouble to him. He didwhatever he pleased with us. In a

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little vial, we were dancing onthat grave, and he was playing to
us on a strange, sweet instrumentwhich he took out of his pocket.
And the music, but there isno music like that, unless perhaps in
heaven, and that was where hebrought it from. He said, it

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made one mad for pleasure, andwe could not take our eyes from him.
And the looks that went out ofour eyes came from our hearts,
and their dumb speech was worship.He brought the dance from heaven too,
and the bliss of paradise was init presently. He said he must go

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away on an errand, but wecould not bear the thought of it,
and clung to him and pleaded withhim to stay. And that pleased him,
and he said so, and saidhe would not go yet, but
wade a little while, and wewould sit down and talk a few minutes

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longer. And he told us Satanwas only his real name, and he
was to be known by it tous alone, but he had chosen another
one to be called by in thepresence of others, just a common one,
such as people have, Philip Traum. It sounded so odd and mean

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for such a being, but itwas his decision, and we said nothing.
His decision was sufficient. We hadseen wanders this day, and my
thoughts began to run on the pleasureit would be to tell them when I
got home. But he noticed thosethoughts, and he said, no,

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all these matters are a secret amongus four. I do not mind your
trying to tell them if you like, but I will protect your tongues and
nothing of the secret will escape fromthem. It was a disappointment, but
it couldn't be helped, and itcost us sociegh or two. We talked

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pleasantly along, and he was alwaysreading our thoughts and responding to them,
and it seemed to me that thiswas the most wonderful of all the things
he did. But he interrupted mymusings and said, no, it would
be wonderful for you, but itis not wonderful for me. I am

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not limited like you. I amnot subject to human conditions. I can
measure and understand your human weaknesses,for I have studied them, but I
have none of them. My fleshis not real, although it would seem

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firm to your touch. My clothesare not real. I am a spirit.
Father Peter is coming. He lookedround, but we did not see
any one. He is not insight yet, but you will see him

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presently. Do you know him,Satan? No? Won't you talk with
him when he comes. He isnot ignorant and dull like us, and
he would so like to talk withyou. Oh will you another time?

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Yes, but not now. Imust go on my errand after a little
Oh, there he is now,you can see him. Now, sit
still and don't say anything. Welooked up and saw Father Peter approaching through

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the chestnuts. We three were sittingtogether in the grass, and Satan sat
in front of us in the path. Father Peter came slowly along with his
head down, thinking, and stoppedwithin a couple of yards of us,
and took off his hat and gotout his silk handkerchief, and stood there,

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mopping his face and looking as ifhe were going to speak to us.
But he didn't. Presently, hemuttered, I can't think what brought
me here. It seems as ifI were in my study a minute ago.
But I suppose I have been dreamingalong for an hour and have come

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all the stretch without noticing, forI am not myself in these troubled days.
Then he went mumbling along to himselfand woke straight through Satan, just
as if nothing were there. Oh, it made us catch our breath to

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see it. We had the impulseto cry out, the way you nearly
always do when a startling thing happens. But something mysteriously restrained us, and
we remained quiet, only breathing fast. Then the trees his father Peter after

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a little, and Satan said,it is as I told you, I
am only a spirit. Yes,one perceives it now, said Nicklaus.
But we are not spirits. Itis plain he did not see you,
But were we invisible too? Helooked at us, but he didn't seem

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to see us. No, noneof us was visible to him, For
I wished it. So. Itseemed almost too good to be true,
that Viva actually seeing these romantic andwonderful things, and that it was not

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a dream. And there he sat, looking just like anybody saw, natural
and simple and charming, and chattingalong again the same as ever, and
well, words cannot make you understandwhat we felt. It was an ecstasy,

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and an ecstasy is a thing thatwill not go into verds. It
feels like music, and one cannottell about music so that another person can
get the feeling of it. Hewas back in the old ages once more,
and making them live before us.He had seen so much, so

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much. It was just a wonderto look at him and try to think
how it must have been to havesuch experience behind one. But it made
you seem sorrowfully trivial and the creatureof a day, and such a short

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and paltry day too. And hedidn't say anything to raise up your drooping
pride. No, not a word. He always spoke of men in the
same old, indifferent way, justas one speaks of bricks and manure piles

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and things. You could see thatthey were of no consequence to him one
way or the other. He didn'tmean to hurt us. You could see
that, just as we don't meanto insult a when we disparage it.

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A brick's emotions are nothing to us. It never occurs to us to think
whether it has any or not.Once, when he was bunching the most
illustrious kings and conquerors and poets andprophets, and pirates and beggars together,
just like a brick pile, Iwas shamed into putting in a word for

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man and asked him why he madeso much difference between men and himself.
He had to struggle with that amoment. He didn't seem to understand how
I could ask such a strange question. Then he said, the difference between

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man and me, the difference betweena mortal and an immortal, between a
class and the spirit. He pickedup a woodlass that was creeping along a
piece of bark. What is thedifference between Caesar and this? I said?

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One cannot compare things which, bytheir nature and by the interval between
them, are not comparable. Youhave answered your own question. He said,
I will expand it. Man ismade of dirt, I saw him

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made. I am not made ofdirt. Man is a museum of diseases,
a home of impurities. He comesto day and is gone to morrow.
He begins as dirt and departs asstench. I am of the aristocracy,

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of the imperishables. And man hasthe moral sense, you understand.
He has the moral sense that wouldseem to be difference enough between us all
by itself. He stopped there,as if it settled the matter. I

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was sorry for at that time Ihad but a dim idea of what the
moral sense was. I merely knewthat we were proud of having it,
And when he talked like that aboutit, it wounded me, and I
felt as a girl feels who thinksher dearest finery is being admired, and
then overhears strangers making fun of it. For a while we were all silent,

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and I, for one, wasdepressed. Then Satan began to chat
again, and soon he was sparklingalong in such a cheerful and vivacious vein
that my spirits rose once more.He told some very cunning things that put
us in a gale of laughters.And when he was telling about the time

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that Samson tied the torches to thefox's tails and set them loose in the
Philistine's corn, and Samson sitting onthe fence, slapping his thighs and laughing
with the tears running down his cheeks, and lost his balance and fell off

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the fence. Oh, the memoryof that picture got him laughing too,
and we did have our most lovelyand jolly time. By and by he
said, I am going on myerrand now, oh, don't we all

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said, don't go stay with us, you won't come back. Yes,
I will. I give you myword then tonight say then, oh,
it won't be long. You willsee be like you and I you,

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And as proof of it, Iwill show you something fine to see.
Usually when I go I merely vanish. But now I will dissolve myself and
let you see me do it.He stood up and it was quickly finished.

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He thinder way and thinner way untilhe was a soaperba, except that
he kept his shape. You couldsee the bushes through him as clearly as
you see things through a soap bubble, and all over him played and flashed
the delicate, iridescent colors of thebubble, and along with them was that

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thing shaped like a window sash,which you always see on the globe of
the bubble. You have seen abubble strike the carpet and lightly bound along
two or three times before it bursts. He did that. He sprang,
touched the grass, bounded, floatedalong, touched again, and so on,

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and presently exploded buff and in hisplace was vacancy. It was a
strange and beautiful thing to see.We did not say anything, but sat

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wondering and dreaming and blinking. Andfinally Seppy roused up and said, mournfully,
sighing, I suppose none of thishappened. Nicholas sighed and said about
the same. I was miserable tohear them say it, for it was

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the same cold fear that was inmy own mind. Then we saw old
father Peter wandering along back with hishead down, searching the ground. When
he was pretty close to us,he looked up and saw us and said,
er, how long have you beenhere? Boys? Oh? A

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little vile father? Then it issince I came by, and maybe you
can't help me. Did you comeby the path? A yes, father,
Oh that is good. I camethe same Veabe, and I have
lost my wallet. There wasn't muchin it, but a very little is

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much to me, for it wasall I had. I suppose you haven't
seen anything of it? Er no, father, but we will help you
hunt it was. But I wasgoing to ask you why here it is?

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We hadn't noticed it yet. Thereit lay right there, Satan stood
when he began to melt. Ifhe did melt, and it wasn't a
delusion. Father Peter picked it upand looked very much surprised. Oh it

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is mine, he said, butnot the contents. This is fat,
Mine is flat. Mine was light, and this is heavy. He opened
it. It was stuffed as fullas it could hold with gold coins.
He let us gaze our fill,and of course we did gaze, for

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we had never seen so much moneyat one time before. And all our
mouths came open to say, Satandid it? But nothing came out there
it was you see, we couldn'ttell what Satan didn't Vue told. He

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had said so himself, Oh boys, did you do this? It made
us laugh, and it made himlaugh too, as soon as he thought,
what a foolish question it was,who has been here? Our mouths
came to answer, but stood sofor a moment because we couldn't say nobody,

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for it wouldn't be true, andthe right word didn't seem to come
out. Then I thought of theright one and said it not a human
being. That is so, saidthe others, and let their mouths go
shut. Oh it is so,said Father Peter, and looked at us

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very severely. I came by herea while ago and there was no one
here. But that is nothing.Some one has been here since. I
don't mean to say that the persondidn't pass here before you came. And
I don't mean to say you sawhim, but someone did pass that I

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know on your honor, you sawno one, not a human being.
Oh that is sufficient. I knowyou are telling me the truth. He
began to count the money on thepath, we on our knees, eagerly

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helping to stack it in little piles. It's eleven hundred duck its hard,
he said, Oh, dear,oh, if it were only mine and
I need it so and his voicebroke and his lips quivered. It's yours,

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sir, We all cried at once, every hella, No it isn't
mine. Only four ducats are mine. The rest he felt, dreaming,
poor old soul and caressing some ofthe coins in his hands, and forgot

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where he was sitting there on hisheels, his old gray head bear.
It was pitiful to see. No, he said, waking up. It
isn't mine. I can't account forit. I think some enemy. It

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must be a trap, Nicholas,said, Father Peter, with the exception
of the astrologer. You haven't areal enemy in the village nor market either,
and not if not half enemy that'srich enough to chance eleven hundred duges

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to do you a mean turn.I'll ask you if that's so or not.
He could get around that argument,and it shaded him up. But
it isn't mine, you see,it isn't mine in any case. He
said it in a wiscful way,like a person who wouldn't be sorry but

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glad if anybody would contradict him.It's yours, Father Peter, and we
are witness to it, arn't we, boys, Yes, we are,
and we'll stand by it too.Oh, bless your hearts. You do
almost persuade me. You do.Indeed, if I had only a hundred

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odd ducats of it. Oh,the house is mortgage for it, and
we've no home on our heads ifwe don't pay tomorrow. And that for
ducas is all we've got in theIt's it's yours, every bit of it,

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and you've got to take it.We are bail and that's all right,
aren't we, Theodore? Aren't wesappy? We too, said yes?
And Nicholas stuffed the money back intothe shabby old vollet and made the
owner take it. So he saidhe would use two hundred of it for

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his house, was good enough securityfor that, and would put the rest
at interest till the rightful owner camefor it. And on our side,
we must sign a paper showing howhe got the money, a paper to
show to the villagers as proof thathe had not got out of his troubles

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dishonestly. End of Chapter three