The American Claimant

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  Next day, sure enough, the cablegram didn't come. This was an immensedisaster; for Tracy couldn't go into the presence without that ticket,although it wasn't going to possess any value as evidence. But if thefailure of the cablegram on that first day may be called an immensedisaster, where is the dictionary that can turn out a phrase sizeableenough to describe the tenth day's failure? Of course every day that thecablegram didn't come made Tracy all of twenty-four hours' more ashamedof himself than he was the day before, and made Sally fully twenty-fourhours more certain than ever that he not only hadn't any fatheranywhere, but hadn't even a confederate--and so it followed that he wasa double-dyed humbug and couldn't be otherwise.

  These were hard days for Barrow and the art firm. All these had theirhands full, trying to comfort Tracy. Barrow's task was particularlyhard, because he was made a confidant in full, and therefore had tohumor Tracy's delusion that he had a father, and that the father was anearl, and that he was going to send a cablegram. Barrow early gave upthe idea of trying to convince Tracy that he hadn't any father, becausethis had such a bad effect on the patient, and worked up his temper tosuch an alarming degree. He had tried, as an experiment, letting Tracythink he had a father; the result was so good that he went further, withproper caution, and tried letting him think his father was an earl; thiswrought so well, that he grew bold, and tried letting him think he hadtwo fathers, if he wanted to, but he didn't want to, so Barrow withdrewone of them and substituted letting him think he was going to get acablegram--which Barrow judged he wouldn't, and was right; but Barrowworked the cablegram daily for all it was worth, and it was the onething that kept Tracy alive; that was Barrow's opinion.

  And these were bitter hard days for poor Sally, and mainly deliveredup to private crying. She kept her furniture pretty damp, and so caughtcold, and the dampness and the cold and the sorrow together underminedher appetite, and she was a pitiful enough object, poor thing. Her statewas bad enough, as per statement of it above quoted; but all the forcesof nature and circumstance seemed conspiring to make it worse--andsucceeding. For instance, the morning after her dismissal of Tracy,Hawkins and Sellers read in the associated press dispatches that a toypuzzle called Pigs in the Clover, had come into sudden favor withinthe past few weeks, and that from the Atlantic to the Pacific all thepopulations of all the States had knocked off work to play with it,and that the business of the country had now come to a standstillby consequence; that judges, lawyers, burglars, parsons, thieves,merchants, mechanics, murderers, women, children, babies--everybody,indeed, could be seen from morning till midnight, absorbed in one deepproject and purpose, and only one--to pen those pigs, work out thatpuzzle successfully; that all gayety, all cheerfulness had departed fromthe nation, and in its place care, preoccupation and anxiety sat uponevery countenance, and all faces were drawn, distressed, and furrowedwith the signs of age and trouble, and marked with the still saddersigns of mental decay and incipient madness; that factories were atwork night and day in eight cities, and yet to supply the demand for thepuzzle was thus far impossible. Hawkins was wild with joy, but Sellerswas calm. Small matters could not disturb his serenity. He said--

  "That's just the way things go. A man invents a thing which couldrevolutionize the arts, produce mountains of money, and bless the earth,and who will bother with it or show any interest in it?--and so you arejust as poor as you were before. But you invent some worthless thing toamuse yourself with, and would throw it away if let alone, and all ofa sudden the whole world makes a snatch for it and out crops a fortune.Hunt up that Yankee and collect, Hawkins--half is yours, you know. Leaveme to potter at my lecture."

  This was a temperance lecture. Sellers was head chief in the Temperancecamp, and had lectured, now and then in that interest, but had beendissatisfied with his efforts; wherefore he was now about to try a newplan. After much thought he had concluded that a main reason why hislectures lacked fire or something, was that they were too transparentlyamateurish; that is to say, it was probably too plainly perceptiblethat the lecturer was trying to tell people about the horrid effects ofliquor when he didn't really know anything about those effects exceptfrom hearsay, since he had hardly ever tasted an intoxicant in his life.His scheme, now, was to prepare himself to speak from bitter experience.Hawkins was to stand by with the bottle, calculate the doses, watch theeffects, make notes of results, and otherwise assist in the preparation.Time was short, for the ladies would be along about noon--that is tosay, the temperance organization called the Daughters of Siloam--andSellers must be ready to head the procession.

  The time kept slipping along--Hawkins did not return--Sellers could notventure to wait longer; so he attacked the bottle himself, and proceededto note the effects. Hawkins got back at last; took one comprehensiveglance at the lecturer, and went down and headed off the procession. Theladies were grieved to hear that the champion had been taken suddenlyill and violently so, but glad to hear that it was hoped he would be outagain in a few days.

  As it turned out, the old gentleman didn't turn over or show any signsof life worth speaking of for twenty-four hours. Then he asked after theprocession, and learned what had happened about it. He was sorry; saidhe had been "fixed" for it. He remained abed several days, and hiswife and daughter took turns in sitting with him and ministering to hiswants. Often he patted Sally's head and tried to comfort her.

  "Don't cry, my child, don't cry so; you know your old father did itby mistake and didn't mean a bit of harm; you know he wouldn'tintentionally do anything to make you ashamed for the world; you know hewas trying to do good and only made the mistake through ignorance, notknowing the right doses and Washington not there to help. Don't cry so,dear, it breaks my old heart to see you, and think I've brought thishumiliation on you and you so dear to me and so good. I won't ever do itagain, indeed I won't; now be comforted, honey, that's a good child."

  But when she wasn't on duty at the bedside the crying went on just thesame; then the mother would try to comfort her, and say:

  "Don't cry, dear, he never meant any harm; it was all one of thosehappens that you can't guard against when you are trying experiments,that way. You see I don't cry. It's because I know him so well. I couldnever look anybody in the face again if he had got into such an amazingcondition as that a-purpose; but bless you his intention was pureand high, and that makes the act pure, though it was higher than wasnecessary. We're not humiliated, dear, he did it under a noble impulseand we don't need to be ashamed. There, don't cry any more, honey."

  Thus, the old gentleman was useful to Sally, during several days, as anexplanation of her tearfulness. She felt thankful to him for the shelterhe was affording her, but often said to herself, "It's a shame to lethim see in my crying a reproach--as if he could ever do anything thatcould make me reproach him! But I can't confess; I've got to go on usinghim for a pretext, he's the only one I've got in the world, and I doneed one so much."

  As soon as Sellers was out again, and found that stacks of money hadbeen placed in bank for him and Hawkins by the Yankee, he said, "Nowwe'll soon see who's the Claimant and who's the Authentic. I'll just goover there and warm up that House of Lords." During the next few dayshe and his wife were so busy with preparations for the voyage that Sallyhad all the privacy she needed, and all the chance to cry that was goodfor her. Then the old pair left for New York--and England.

  Sally had also had a chance to do another thing. That was, to make upher mind that life was not worth living upon the present terms. If shemust give up her impostor and die, doubtless she must submit; but mightshe not lay her whole case before some disinterested person, first,and see if there wasn't perhaps some saving way out of the matter? Sheturned this idea over in her mind a good deal. In her first visit withHawkins after her parents were gone, the talk fell upon Tracy, and shewas impelled to set her case before the statesman and take his counsel.So she poured out her heart, and he listened with painful solicitude.She concluded, pleadingly, with--

  "Don't tell
me he is an impostor. I suppose he is, but doesn't it lookto you as if he isn't? You are cool, you know, and outside; and so,maybe it can look to you as if he isn't one, when it can't to me.Doesn't it look to you as if he isn't? Couldn't you--can't it look toyou that way--for--for my sake?"

  The poor man was troubled, but he felt obliged to keep in theneighborhood of the truth. He fought around the present detail a littlewhile, then gave it up and said he couldn't really see his way toclearing Tracy.

  "No," he said, "the truth is, he's an impostor."

  "That is, you--you feel a little certain, but not entirely--oh, notentirely, Mr. Hawkins!"

  "It's a pity to have to say it--I do hate to say it, but I don't thinkanything about it, I know he's an impostor."

  "Oh, now, Mr. Hawkins, you can't go that far. A body can't really knowit, you know. It isn't proved that he's not what he says he is."

  Should he come out and make a clean breast of the whole wretchedbusiness? Yes--at least the most of it--it ought to be done. So he sethis teeth and went at the matter with determination, but purposing tospare the girl one pain--that of knowing that Tracy was a criminal.

  "Now I am going to tell you a plain tale; one not pleasant for me totell or for you to hear, but we've got to stand it. I know all aboutthat fellow; and I know he is no earl's son."

  The girl's eyes flashed, and she said:

  "I don't care a snap for that--go on!"

  This was so wholly unexpected that it at once obstructed the narrative;Hawkins was not even sure that he had heard aright. He said:

  "I don't know that I quite understand. Do you mean to say that if he wasall right and proper otherwise you'd be indifferent about the earl partof the business?"

  "Absolutely."

  "You'd be entirely satisfied with him and wouldn't care for his notbeing an earl's son,--that being an earl's son wouldn't add any value tohim?"

  "Not the least value that I would care for. Why, Mr. Hawkins, I'vegotten over all that day-dreaming about earldoms and aristocracies andall such nonsense and am become just a plain ordinary nobody and contentwith it; and it is to him I owe my cure. And as to anything being ableto add a value to him, nothing can do that. He is the whole world to me,just as he is; he comprehends all the values there are--then how can youadd one?"

  "She's pretty far gone." He said that to himself. He continued, still tohimself, "I must change my plan again; I can't seem to strike one thatwill stand the requirements of this most variegated emergency fiveminutes on a stretch. Without making this fellow a criminal, I believe Iwill invent a name and a character for him calculated to disenchant her.If it fails to do it, then I'll know that the next rightest thing to dowill be to help her to her fate, poor thing, not hinder her." Then hesaid aloud:

  "Well, Gwendolen--"

  "I want to be called Sally."

  "I'm glad of it; I like it better, myself. Well, then, I'll tell youabout this man Snodgrass."

  "Snodgrass! Is that his name?"

  "Yes--Snodgrass. The other's his nom de plume."

  "It's hideous!"

  "I know it is, but we can't help our names."

  "And that is truly his real name--and not Howard Tracy?"

  Hawkins answered, regretfully:

  "Yes, it seems a pity."

  The girl sampled the name musingly, once or twice--

  "Snodgrass. Snodgrass. No, I could not endure that. I could not get usedto it. No, I should call him by his first name. What is his first name?"

  "His--er--his initials are S. M."

  "His initials? I don't care anything about his initials. I can't callhim by his initials. What do they stand for?"

  "Well, you see, his father was a physician, and he--he--well he was anidolater of his profession, and he--well, he was a very eccentric man,and--"

  "What do they stand for! What are you shuffling about?"

  "They--well they stand for Spinal Meningitis. His father being a phy--"

  "I never heard such an infamous name! Nobody can ever call a personthat--a person they love. I wouldn't call an enemy by such a name.It sounds like an epithet." After a moment, she added with a kind ofconsternation, "Why, it would be my name! Letters would come with iton."

  "Yes--Mrs. Spinal Meningitis Snodgrass."

  "Don't repeat it--don't; I can't bear it. Was the father a lunatic?"

  "No, that is not charged."

  "I am glad of that, because that is transmissible. What do you think wasthe matter with him, then?"

  "Well, I don't really know. The family used to run a good deal toidiots, and so, maybe--"

  "Oh, there isn't any maybe about it. This one was an idiot."

  "Well, yes--he could have been. He was suspected."

  "Suspected!" said Sally, with irritation. "Would one suspect there wasgoing to be a dark time if he saw the constellations fall out of thesky? But that is enough about the idiot, I don't take any interest inidiots; tell me about the son."

  "Very well, then, this one was the eldest, but not the favorite. Hisbrother, Zylobalsamum--"

  "Wait--give me a chance to realize that. It is perfectly stupefying.Zylo--what did you call it?"

  "Zylobalsamum."

  "I never heard such a name: It sounds like a disease. Is it a disease?"

  "No, I don't think it's a disease. It's either Scriptural or--"

  "Well, it's not Scriptural."

  "Then it's anatomical. I knew it was one or the other. Yes, I remember,now, it is anatomical. It's a ganglion--a nerve centre--it is what iscalled the zylobalsamum process."

  "Well, go on; and if you come to any more of them, omit the names; theymake one feel so uncomfortable."

  "Very well, then. As I said, this one was not a favorite in the family,and so he was neglected in every way, never sent to school, alwaysallowed to associate with the worst and coarsest characters, and so ofcourse he has grown up a rude, vulgar, ignorant, dissipated ruffian,and--"

  "He? It's no such thing! You ought to be more generous than to make sucha statement as that about a poor young stranger who--who--why, he is thevery opposite of that! He is considerate, courteous, obliging, modest,gentle, refined, cultivated-oh, for shame! how can you say such thingsabout him?"

  "I don't blame you, Sally--indeed I haven't a word of blame for you forbeing blinded by--your affection--blinded to these minor defects whichare so manifest to others who--"

  "Minor defects? Do you call these minor defects? What are murder andarson, pray?"

  "It is a difficult question to answer straight off--and of courseestimates of such things vary with environment. With us, out our way,they would not necessarily attract as much attention as with you, yetthey are often regarded with disapproval--"

  "Murder and arson are regarded with disapproval?"

  "Oh, frequently."

  "With disapproval. Who are those Puritans you are talking about? Butwait--how did you come to know so much about this family? Where did youget all this hearsay evidence?"

  "Sally, it isn't hearsay evidence. That is the serious part of it. Iknew that family--personally."

  This was a surprise.

  "You? You actually knew them?"

  "Knew Zylo, as we used to call him, and knew his father, Dr. Snodgrass.I didn't know your own Snodgrass, but have had glimpses of him from timeto time, and I heard about him all the time. He was the common talk, yousee, on account of his--"

  "On account of his not being a house-burner or an assassin, I suppose.That would have made him commonplace. Where did you know these people?"

  "In Cherokee Strip."

  "Oh, how preposterous! There are not enough people in Cherokee Strip togive anybody a reputation, good or bad. There isn't a quorum. Why thewhole population consists of a couple of wagon loads of horse thieves."

  Hawkins answered placidly--

  "Our friend was one of those wagon loads."

  Sally's eyes burned and her breath came quick and fast, but she kept afairly good grip on her anger and did not let it get the advantage
ofher tongue. The statesman sat still and waited for developments. He wascontent with his work. It was as handsome a piece of diplomatic art ashe had ever turned out, he thought; and now, let the girl make her ownchoice. He judged she would let her spectre go; he hadn't a doubt of itin fact; but anyway, let the choice be made, and he was ready to ratifyit and offer no further hindrance.

  Meantime Sally had thought her case out and made up her mind. To themajor's disappointment the verdict was against him. Sally said:

  "He has no friend but me, and I will not desert him now. I will notmarry him if his moral character is bad; but if he can prove that itisn't, I will--and he shall have the chance. To me he seems utterlygood and dear; I've never seen anything about him that lookedotherwise--except, of course, his calling himself an earl's son. Maybethat is only vanity, and no real harm, when you get to the bottom of it.I do not believe he is any such person as you have painted him. I wantto see him. I want you to find him and send him to me. I will implorehim to be honest with me, and tell me the whole truth, and not beafraid."

  "Very well; if that is your decision I will do it. But Sally, you know,he's poor, and--"

  "Oh, I don't care anything about that. That's neither here nor there.Will you bring him to me?"

  "I'll do it. When?--"

  "Oh, dear, it's getting toward dark, now, and so you'll have to putit off till morning. But you will find him in the morning, won't you?Promise."

  "I'll have him here by daylight."

  "Oh, now you're your own old self again--and lovelier than ever!"

  "I couldn't ask fairer than that. Good-bye, dear."

  Sally mused a moment alone, then said earnestly, "I love him in spite ofhis name!" and went about her affairs with a light heart.