A CONNECTICUT YANKEE IN KING ARTHUR’S COURT. A WORD OF EXPLANATION. Mark Twain.

“Lord,” I said, “stroke him, lass, if you want to. Do anything you’re a mind to; don’t mind me.”

Why, her eyes were as grateful as an animal’s, when you do it a kindness that it understands. The baby was out of her way and she had her cheek against the man’s in a minute. and her hands fondling his hair, and her happy tears running down. The man revived and caressed his wife with his eyes, which was all he could do. I judged I might clear the den, now, and I did; cleared it of all but the family and myself. Then I said:

“Now, my friend, tell me your side of this matter; I know the other side.” ———————————————————————— Page 138

The man moved his head in sign of refusal. But the woman looked pleased — mdash; as it seemed to me — mdash; pleased with my suggestion. I went on — mdash;

“You know of me?”

“Yes. All do, in Arthur’s realms.”

“If my reputation has come to you right and straight, you should not be afraid to speak.”

The woman broke in, eagerly:

“Ah, fair my lord, do thou persuade him! Thou canst an thou wilt. Ah, he suffereth so; and it is for me — mdash; for me! And how can I bear it? I would I might see him die — mdash; a sweet, swift death; oh, my Hugo, I cannot bear this one!”

And she fell to sobbing and grovelling about my feet, and still imploring. Imploring what? The man’s death? I could not quite get the bearings of the thing. But Hugo interrupted her and said:

“Peace! Ye wit not what ye ask. Shall I starve whom I love, to win a gentle death? I wend thou knewest me better.”

“Well,” I said, “I can’t quite make this out. It is a puzzle. Now — mdash; ”

“Ah, dear my lord, an ye will but persuade him! Consider how these his tortures wound me! Oh, and he will not speak! — mdash; whereas, the healing, the solace that lie in a blessed swift death — mdash; ”

“What are you maundering about? He’s going out from here a free man and whole — mdash; he’s not going to die.”

The man’s white face lit up, and the woman flung herself at me in a most surprising explosion of joy, and cried out:

“He is saved! — mdash; for it is the king’s word by the ———————————————————————— Page 139

mouth of the king’s servant — mdash; Arthur, the king whose word is gold!”

“Well, then you do believe I can be trusted, after all. Why didn’t you before?”

“Who doubted? Not I, indeed; and not she.”

“Well, why uldn’t you tell me your story, then?”

“Ye had made no promise; else had it been otherwise.”

“I see, I see…. And yet I believe I don’t quite see, after all. You stood the torture and refused to confess; which shows plain enough to even the dullest understanding that you had nothing to confess — mdash; ”

“I, my lord? How so? It was I that killed the deer!”

“You did? Oh, dear, this is the most mixed-up business that ever — mdash; ”

“Dear lord, I begged him on my knees to confess, but — mdash; ”

“You did! It gets thicker and thicker. What did you want him to do that for?”

“Sith it would bring him a quick death and save him all this cruel pain.”

“Well — mdash; yes, there is reason in that. But he didn’t want the quick death.”

“He? Why, of a surety he did.”

“Well, then, why in the world didn’t he confess?”

“Ah, sweet sir, and leave my wife and chick without bread and shelter?”

“Oh, heart of gold, now I see it! The bitter law takes the convicted man’s estate and beggars his widow and his orphans. They could torture you to death, but without conviction or confession they could not rob your wife and baby. You stood by them like a ———————————————————————— Page 140

man; and you — mdash; true wife and the woman that you are — mdash; you would have bought him release from torture at cost to yourself of slow starvation and death — mdash; well, it humbles a body to think what your sex can do when it comes to self-sacrifice. I’ll book you both for my colony; you’ll like it there; it’s a Factory where I’m going to turn groping and grubbing automata into men.”

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