<h2> Chapter 4 </h2><br/>
<br/>
<p>We came to a large portico-like place open on three sides to
the air, the roof being supported by slender columns. We were
now on the opposite side of the house and looked upon the
river, which was not more than a couple of hundred yards from
the terrace or platform on which it stood. The ground here
sloped rapidly to the banks, and, like that in the front, was
a wilderness with rock and patches of tall fern and thickets
of thorn and bramble, with a few trees of great size. Nor was
wild life wanting in this natural park; some deer were
feeding near the bank, while on the water numbers of wild
duck and other water-fowl were disporting themselves,
splashing and flapping over the surface and uttering shrill
cries.</p>
<p>The people of the house were already assembled, standing and
sitting by the small tables. There was a lively hum of
conversation, which ceased on my entrance; then those who
were sitting stood up and the whole company fixed its eyes on
me, which was rather disconcerting.</p>
<p>The old gentleman, standing in the midst of the people, now
bent on me a long, scrutinizing gaze; he appeared to be
waiting for me to speak, and, finding that I remained silent,
he finally addressed me with solemnity. "Smith," he
said—and I did not like it—"the meeting with you
today was to me and to all of us a very strange experience: I
little thought that an even stranger one awaited me, that
before you break bread in this house in which you have found
shelter, I should have to remind you that you are now in a
house."</p>
<p>"Yes, I know I am," I said, and then added: "I'm sure, sir, I
appreciate your kindness in bringing me here."</p>
<p>He had perhaps expected something more or something entirely
different from me, as he continued standing with his eyes
fixed on me. Then with a sigh, and looking round him, he said
in a dissatisfied tone: "My children, let us begin, and for
the present put out of our minds this matter which has been
troubling us."</p>
<p>He then motioned me to a seat at his own table, where I was
pleased to have a place since the lovely Yoletta was also
there.</p>
<p>I am not particular about what I eat, as with me good
digestion waits on appetite, and so long as I get a
bellyful—to use a good old English word—I am
satisfied. On this particular occasion, with or without a
pretty girl at the table, I could have consumed a
haggis—that greatest abomination ever invented by
flesh-eating barbarians—I was so desperately hungry. It
was therefore a disappointment when nothing more substantial
than a plate of whitey-green, crisp-looking stuff resembling
endive, was placed before me by one of the picturesque
handmaidens. It was cold and somewhat bitter to the taste,
but hunger compelled me to eat it even to the last green
leaf; then, when I began to wonder if it would be right to
ask for more, to my great relief other more succulent dishes
followed, composed of various vegetables. We also had some
pleasant drinks, made, I suppose, from the juices of fruits,
but the delicious alcoholic sting was not in them. We had
fruits, too, of unfamiliar flavors, and a confection of
crushed nuts and honey.</p>
<p>We sat at table—or tables—a long time, and the
meal was enlivened with conversation; for all now appeared in
a cheerful frame of mind, notwithstanding the melancholy
event which had occupied them during the day. It was, in
fact, a kind of supper, and the one great meal of the day:
the only other meals being a breakfast, and at noon a crust
of brown bread, a handful of dried fruit, and drink of milk.</p>
<p>At the conclusion of the repast, during which I had been too
much occupied to take notice of everything that passed, I
observed that a number of small birds had flown in, and were
briskly hopping over the floor and tables, also perching
quite fearlessly on the heads or shoulders of the company,
and that they were being fed with the fragments. I took them
to be sparrows and things of that kind, but they did not look
altogether familiar to me. One little fellow, most lively in
his motions, was remarkably like my old friend the robin,
only the bosom was more vivid, running almost into orange,
and the wings and tail were tipped with the same hue, giving
it quite a distinguished appearance. Another small
olive-green bird, which I at first took for a green linnet,
was even prettier, the throat and bosom being of a most
delicate buff, crossed with a belt of velvet black. The bird
that really seemed most like a common sparrow was chestnut,
with a white throat and mouse-colored wings and tail. These
pretty little pensioners systematically avoided my
neighborhood, although I tempted them with crumbs and fruit;
only one flew onto my table, but had no sooner done so than
it darted away again, and out of the room, as if greatly
alarmed. I caught the pretty girl's eye just then, and having
finished eating, and being anxious to join the conversation,
for I hate to sit silent when others are talking. I remarked
that it was strange the little birds so persistently avoided
me.</p>
<p>"Oh no, not at all strange," she replied, with surprising
readiness, showing that she too had noticed it. "They are
frightened at your appearance."</p>
<p>"I must indeed appear strange to them," said I, with some
bitterness, and recalling the adventures of the morning. "It
is to me a new and very painful experience to walk about the
world frightening men, cattle, and birds; yet I suppose it is
entirely due to the clothes I am wearing—and the boots.
I wish some kind person would suggest a remedy for this state
of things; for just now my greatest desire is to be dressed
in accordance with the fashion."</p>
<p>"Allow me to interrupt you for one moment, Smith," said the
old gentleman, who had been listening attentively to my
words. "We understood what you said so well on this occasion
that it seems a pity you should suddenly again render
yourself unintelligible. Can you explain to us what you mean
by dressing in accordance with the fashion?"</p>
<p>"My meaning is, that I simply desire to dress like one of
yourselves, to see the last of these <i>uncouth</i>
garments." I could not help putting a little vicious emphasis
on that hateful word.</p>
<p>He inclined his head and said, "Yes?"</p>
<p>Thus encouraged, I dashed boldly into the middle of matter;
for now, having dined, albeit without wine, I was inflamed
with an intense craving to see myself arrayed in their rich,
mysterious dress. "This being so," I continued, "may I ask
you if it is in your power to provide me with the necessary
garments, so that I may cease to be an object of aversion and
offense to every living thing and person, myself included?"</p>
<p>A long and uncomfortable silence ensued, which was perhaps
not strange, considering the nature of the request. That I
had blundered once more seemed likely enough, from the
general suspense and the somewhat alarmed expression of the
old gentleman's countenance; nevertheless, my motives had
been good: I had expressed my wish in that way for the sake
of peace and quietness, and fearing that if I had asked to be
directed to the nearest clothing establishment, a new fit of
amazement would have been the result.</p>
<p>Finding the silence intolerable, I at length ventured to
remark that I feared he had not understood me to the end.</p>
<p>"Perhaps not," he answered gravely. "Or, rather let me say, I
hope not."</p>
<p>"May I explain my meaning?" said I, greatly distressed.</p>
<p>"Assuredly you may," he replied with dignity. "Only before
you speak, let me put this plain question to you: Do you ask
us to provide you with garments—that is to say, to
bestow them as a gift on you?"</p>
<p>"Certainly not!" I exclaimed, turning crimson with shame to
think that they were all taking me for a beggar. "My wish is
to obtain them somehow from somebody, since I cannot make
them for myself, and to give in return their full value."</p>
<p>I had no sooner spoken than I greatly feared that I had made
matters worse; for here was I, a guest in the house, actually
offering to purchase clothing—ready-made or to to
order—from my host, who, for all I knew, might be one
of the aristocracy of the country. My fears, however, proved
quite groundless.</p>
<p>"I am glad to hear your explanation," he answered, "for it
has completely removed the unpleasant impression caused by
your former words. What can you do in return for the garments
you are anxious to possess? And here, let me remark, I
approve highly of your wish to escape, with the least
possible delay, from your present covering. Do you wish to
confine yourself to the finishing of some work in a
particular line—as wood-carving, or stone, metal, clay
or glass work; or in making or using colors? or have you only
that general knowledge of the various arts which would enable
you to assist the more skilled in preparing materials?"</p>
<p>"No, I am not an artist," I replied, surprised at his
question. "All I can do is to buy the clothes—to pay
for them in money."</p>
<p>"What do you mean by that? What is money?"</p>
<p>"Surely——" I began, but fortunately checked
myself in time, for I had meant to suggest that he was
pulling my leg. But it was really hard to believe that a
person of his years did not know what money was. Besides, I
could not answer the question, having always abhorred the
study of political economy, which tells you all about it; so
that I had never learned to define money, but only how to
spend it. Presently I thought the best way out of the muddle
was to show him some, and I accordingly pulled out my big
leather book-purse from my breast pocket. It had an ancient,
musty smell, like everything else about me, but seemed pretty
heavy and well-filled, and I proceeded to open it and turn
the contents on the table. Eleven bright sovereigns and three
half-crowns or florins, I forget which, rolled out; then,
unfolding the papers, I discovered three five-pound Bank of
England notes.</p>
<p>"Surely this is very little for me to have about me!" said I,
feeling greatly disappointed. "I fancy I must have been
making ducks and drakes of a lot of cash
before—before—well, before I was—I don't
know what, or when, or where."</p>
<p>Little notice was taken of this somewhat incoherent speech,
for all were now gathering round the table, examining the
gold and notes with eager curiosity. At length the old
gentleman, pointing to the gold pieces, said: "What are
these?"</p>
<p>"Sovereigns," I answered, not a little amused. "Have you
never seen any like them before?"</p>
<p>"Never. Let me examine them again. Yes, these eleven are of
gold. They are all marked alike, on one side with a
roughly-executed figure of a woman's head, with the hair
gathered on its summit in a kind of ball. There are also
other things on them which I do not understand."</p>
<p>"Can you not read the letters?" I asked.</p>
<p>"No. The letters—if these marks are letters—are
incomprehensible to me. But what have these small pieces of
metal to do with the question of your garments? You puzzle
me."</p>
<p>"Why, everything. These pieces of metal, as you call them,
are money, and represent, of course, so much buying power. I
don't know yet what your currency is, and whether you have
the dollar or the rupee"—here I paused, seeing that he
did not follow me. "My idea is this," I resumed, and coming
down to very plain speaking: "I can give one of these
five-pound notes, or its equivalent in gold, if you prefer
that—five of these sovereigns, I mean—for a suit
of clothes such as you all wear."</p>
<p>So great was my desire to possess the clothes that I was
about to double the offer, which struck me as poor, and add
that I would give ten sovereigns; but when I had spoken he
dropped the piece he held in his hand upon the table, and
stared fixedly at me, assisted by all the others. Presently,
in the profound silence which ensued, a low, silvery gurgling
became audible, as of some merry mountain burn—a sweet,
warbling sound, swelling louder by degrees until it ended in
a long ringing peal of laughter.</p>
<p>This was from the girl Yoletta. I stared at her, surprised at
her unseasonable levity; but the only effect of my doing so
was a general explosion, men and women joining in such a
tempest of merriment that one might have imagined they had
just heard the most wonderful joke ever invented since man
acquired the sense of the ludicrous.</p>
<p>The old gentleman was the first to recover a decent gravity,
although it was plain to see that he struggled severely at
intervals to prevent a relapse.</p>
<p>"Smith," said he, "of all the extraordinary delusions you
appear to be suffering from, this, that you can have garments
to wear in return for a small piece of paper, or for a few
bits of this metal, is the most astounding! You cannot
exchange these trifles for clothes, because clothes are the
fruit of much labor of many hands."</p>
<p>"And yet, sir, you said you understood me when I proposed to
pay for the things I require," said I, in an aggrieved tone.
"You seemed even to approve of the offer I made. How, then,
am I to pay for them if all I possess is not considered of
any value?"</p>
<p>"<i>All</i> you possess!" he replied. "Surely I did not say
that! Surely you possess the strength and skill common to all
men, and can acquire anything you wish by the labor of your
hands."</p>
<p>I began once more to see light, although my skill, I knew,
would not count for much. "Ah yes," I answered: "to go back
to that subject, I do not know anything about wood-carving or
using colors, but I might be able to do something—some
work of a simpler kind."</p>
<p>"There are trees to be felled, land to be plowed, and many
other things to be done. If you will do these things some one
else will be released to perform works of skill; and as these
are the most agreeable to the worker, it would please us more
to have you labor in the fields than in the workhouse."</p>
<p>"I am strong," I answered, "and will gladly undertake labor
of the kind you speak of. There is, however, one difficulty.
My desire is to change these clothes for others which will be
more pleasing to the eye, at once; but the work I shall have
to do in return will not be finished in a day. Perhaps not
in—well, several days."</p>
<p>"No, of course not," said he. "A year's labor will be
necessary to pay for the garments you require."</p>
<p>This staggered me; for if the clothes were given to me at the
beginning, then before the end of the year they would be worn
to rags, and I should make myself a slave for life. I was
sorely perplexed in mind, and pulled about this way and that
by the fear of incurring a debt, and the desire to see myself
(and to be seen by Yoletta) in those strangely fascinating
garments. That I had a decent figure, and was not a
bad-looking young fellow, I was pretty sure; and the hope
that I should be able to create an impression (favorable, I
mean) on the heart of that supremely beautiful girl was very
strong in me. At all events, by closing with the offer I
should have a year of happiness in her society, and a year of
healthy work in the fields could not hurt me, or interfere
much with my prospects. Besides, I was not quite sure that my
prospects were really worth thinking about just now.
Certainly, I had always lived comfortably, spending money,
eating and drinking of the best, and dressing well—that
is, according to the London standard. And there was my dear
old bachelor Uncle Jack—John Smith, Member of
Parliament for Wormwood Scrubbs. That is to say, ex-Member;
for, being a Liberal when the great change came at the last
general election, he was ignominiously ousted from his seat,
the Scrubbs proving at the finish a bitter place to him. He
was put out in more ways than one, and tried to comfort
himself by saying that there would soon be another
dissolution—thinking of his own, possibly, being an old
man. I remembered that I had rather looked forward to such a
contingency, thinking how pleasant it would be to have all
that money, and cruise about the world in my own yacht,
enjoying myself as I knew how. And really I had some reason
to hope. I remember he used to wind up the talk of an evening
when I dined with him (and got a check) by saying: "My boy,
you have talents, if you'd only use 'em." Where were those
talents now? Certainly they had not made me shine much during
the last few hours.</p>
<p>Now, all this seemed unsubstantial, and I remembered these
things dimly, like a dream or a story told to me in
childhood; and sometimes, when recalling the past, I seemed
to be thinking about ancient history—Sesostris, and the
Babylonians and Assyrians, and that sort of thing. And,
besides, it would be very hard to get back from a place where
even the name of London was unknown. And perhaps, if I ever
should succeed in getting back, it would only be to encounter
a second Roger Tichborne case, or to be confronted with the
statute of limitations. Anyhow, a year could not make much
difference, and I should also keep my money, which seemed an
advantage, though it wasn't much. I looked up: they were all
once more studying the coins and notes, and exchanging
remarks about them.</p>
<p>"If I bind myself to work one year," said I, "shall I have to
wait until the end of that time before I get the clothes?"</p>
<p>The reply to this question, I thought, would settle the
matter one way or the other.</p>
<p>"No," said he. "It is your wish, and also ours, that you
should be differently clothed at once, and the garments you
require would be made for you immediately."</p>
<p>"Then," said I, taking the desperate plunge, "I should like
to have them as soon as possible, and I am ready to commence
work at once."</p>
<p>"You shall commence to-morrow morning," he answered, smiling
at my impetuosity. "The daughters of the house, whose
province it is to make these things, shall also suspend other
work until your garments are finished. And now, my son, from
this evening you are one of the house and one of us, and the
things which we possess you also possess in common with us."</p>
<p>I rose and thanked him. He too rose, and, after looking round
on us with a fatherly smile, went away to the interior of the
house.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
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