The Mysterious Stranger Manuscripts (Literature) (14 page)

BOOK: The Mysterious Stranger Manuscripts (Literature)
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But he couldn't make head nor tail of the situation. There must
be an enchanter somewhere on the premises, but who was it?
Marget was not seen to do any jugglery, nor was Ursula, nor yet
Gottfried; and still the wines and dainties never ran short, and a
guest could not call for a thing and not get it. To produce these
effects was usual enough with witches and enchanters-that part of
it was not new; but to do it without any incantations, or even any
rumblings or earthquakes or lightnings or apparitions-that was
new, novel, wholly irregular. There was nothing in the books like
this. Enchanted things were always unreal: gold turned to dirt in
an unenchanted atmosphere, food withered away and vanished.
But this test failed, in the present case. The spies brought samples:
Father Adolf prayed over them, exorcised them, swore at them, but
it did no good; they remained sound and real, they yielded to
natural decay only, and took the usual time to it.

Father Adolf was not merely puzzled, he was also exasperated;
for these evidences very nearly convinced him-privately-that
there was no witchcraft in the matter. It did not wholly convince
him, for this could be a new kind of witchcraft. There was a way to
find out, as to this: if this prodigal abundance of provender was not
brought in from the outside but produced on the premises, there
was witchcraft, sure.

Marget announced a party, and invited forty people; the date for
it was seven days away. This was Father Adolf's opportunity.
Marget's house stood by itself, and could be easily watched. All the
week it was watched night and day. Marget's household went out
and in as usual, but they carried nothing in their hands, and
neither they nor others brought anything to the house. This was
ascertained. Evidently rations for forty people were not being
fetched. If they were furnished any sustenance it would have to be made on the premises. It was true that Marget went out with a
basket every evening, but the spies ascertained that she always
brought it back empty.

The guests arrived at noon, and filled the place. Father Adolf
followed, after a little, without an invitation. His spies informed
him that neither at the back nor the front had any parcels been
brought in. He entered, and found the eating and drinking going
on finely, and everything going on in a lively and festive way. He
glanced around and perceived that many of the cooked delicacies
and all of the native and foreign fruits were of a perishable character, and he also recognised that these were fresh and perfect. No
apparitions, no incantations, no thunder. That settled it. This was
witchcraft. And not only that, but of a new kind-a kind never
dreamed of before. It was a prodigious find, an illustrious find-and
he the discoverer of it! The announcement of it would resound
throughout the world, penetrate to the remotest lands, paralyse all
the nations with amazement-and carry his name with it, and
make him renowned forever. It was a wonderful piece of luck, a
splendid piece of luck; the glory of it made him dizzy.

All the house made reverence to him, Marget seated him, Ursula
ordered Gottfried to bring a special table for him, then she decked
it and furnished it, and asked for his orders.

"Bring me what you will," he said.

The two servants brought supplies from the pantry, together
with white wine and red-a bottle of each. The priest took some
water, blessed it, then sprinkled it over everything, bottles and all;
then bowed his head and said grace. He poured out a beaker of red
wine, drank it off, poured another, then began to eat, with a grand
appetite.

I was not expecting Satan, for it was more than a week since I
had seen him or heard of him, but now he came in-I knew it by
the feel, though people were in the way and I could not see him. I
heard him apologising for intruding; and he was going away, but
Marget urged him to stay, and he thanked her and stayed. She
brought him along, introducing him to the girls, and to Meidling
and to some of the elders; and there was quite a rustle of whispers: "It's the young stranger we hear so much about and can't get a sight
of, he is away so much." "Dear, dear, but he is beautiful-what is
his name?" "Philip Traum." "Ah, it fits him!" (You see, Traum is
German for Dream.) "What does he do?" "Studying for the ministry, they say." "His face is his fortune-he'll be a cardinal some
day." "Where is his home?" "Away down somewhere in the tropics,
they say-has a rich uncle down there." And so on. He made his
way at once; everybody was anxious to know him and talk with
him. Everybody noticed how cool and fresh it was, all of a sudden,
and wondered at it, for they could see that the sun was beating
down the same as before, outside, and the sky clear of clouds, but
no one guessed the reason, of course.

Father Adolf had drunk his second beaker; he poured a third. He
set the bottle down, and by accident overturned it. He seized it
before much was spilt, and held it up to the light, saying "What a
pity-it is royal wine." Then his face lighted with joy or triumph or
something, and he said-

"Quick-bring a bowl."

It was brought-a four-quart one. He took up that two-pint
bottle and began to pour; went on pouring, and still pouring, the
red liquor gurgling and gushing into the white bowl and rising
higher and higher up its sides, everybody staring and holding their
breath-and presently the bowl was full to the brim.

"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.

BOOK: The Mysterious Stranger Manuscripts (Literature)
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