III
There was a conspiracy in hand to embarrass the Idiot. The School-masterand the Bibliomaniac had combined forces to give him a taste of his ownmedicine. The time had not yet arrived which showed the Idiot at adisadvantage; and the two boarders, the one proud of his learning, andthe other not wholly unconscious of a bookish life, were distinctlytired of the triumphant manner in which the Idiot always left thebreakfast-table to their invariable discomfiture.
It was the School-master's suggestion to put their tormentor into thepit he had heretofore digged for them. The worthy instructor of youthhad of late come to see that while he was still a prime favorite withhis landlady, he had, nevertheless, suffered somewhat in her estimationbecause of the apparent ease with which the Idiot had got the better ofhim on all points. It was necessary, he thought, to rehabilitatehimself, and a deep-laid plot, to which the Bibliomaniac readily lentear, was the result of his reflections. They twain were to indulge in adiscussion of the great story of _Robert Elsmere_, which both wereconfident the Idiot had not read, and concerning which they felt assuredhe could not have an intelligent opinion if he had read it.
So it happened upon this bright Sunday morning that as the boarders satthem down to partake of the usual "restful breakfast," as the Idiottermed it, the Bibliomaniac observed:
"I have just finished reading _Robert Elsmere_."
"Have you, indeed?" returned the School-master, with apparent interest."I trust you profited by it?"
"On the contrary," observed the Bibliomaniac. "My views are muchunsettled by it."
"I prefer the breast of the chicken, Mrs. Smithers," observed the Idiot,sending his plate back to the presiding genius of the table. "The neckof a chicken is graceful, but not too full of sustenance."
"He fights shy," whispered the Bibliomaniac, gleefully.
"Never mind," returned the School-master, confidently; "we'll land himyet." Then he added, aloud: "Unsettled by it? I fail to see how any manwith beliefs that are at all the result of mature convictions can beunsettled by the story of _Elsmere_. For my part I believe, and I havealways said--"
"I never could understand why the neck of a chicken should be allowed ona respectable table anyhow," continued the Idiot, ignoring thecontroversy in which his neighbors were engaged, "unless for the purposeof showing that the deceased fowl met with an accidental rather than anatural death."
"In what way does the neck demonstrate that point?" queried theBibliomaniac, forgetting the conspiracy for a moment.
"By its twist or by its length, of course," returned the Idiot. "Achicken that dies a natural death does not have its neck wrung; nor whenthe head is removed by the use of a hatchet, is it likely that it willbe cut off so close behind the ears that those who eat the chicken areconfronted with four inches of neck."
"'I STUCK TO THE PIGS'"]
"Very entertaining indeed," interposed the School-master; "but we arewandering from the point the Bibliomaniac and I were discussing. Is oris not the story of _Robert Elsmere_ unsettling to one's beliefs?Perhaps you can help us to decide that question."
"Perhaps I can," returned the Idiot; "and perhaps not. It did notunsettle my beliefs."
"But don't you think," observed the Bibliomaniac, "that to certain mindsthe book is more or less unsettling?"
"To that I can confidently say no. The certain mind knows nouncertainty," replied the Idiot, calmly.
"Very pretty indeed," said the School-master, coldly. "But what was youropinion of Mrs. Ward's handling of the subject? Do you think she wassufficiently realistic? And if so, and Elsmere weakened under the stressof circumstances, do you think--or don't you think--the production ofsuch a book harmful, because--being real--it must of necessity beunsettling to some minds?"
THE CONSPIRATORS]
"I prefer not to express an opinion on that subject," returned theIdiot, "because I never read _Robert Els_--"
"Never read it?" ejaculated the School-master, a look of triumph in hiseyes.
"Why, everybody has read _Elsmere_ that pretends to have read anything,"asserted the Bibliomaniac.
"Of course," put in the landlady, with a scornful laugh.
"Well, I didn't," said the Idiot, nonchalantly. "The same ground wasgone over two years before in Burrows's great story, _Is It, or Is ItNot?_ and anybody who ever read Clink's books on the _Non-Existent asOpposed to What Is_, knows where Burrows got his points. Burrows's storywas a perfect marvel. I don't know how many editions it went through inEngland, and when it was translated into French by Madame Tournay, itsimply set the French wild."
"Great Scott!" whispered the Bibliomaniac, desperately, "I'm afraidwe've been barking up the wrong tree."
"You've read Clink, I suppose?" asked the Idiot, turning to theSchool-master.
"Y--yes," returned the School-master, blushing deeply.
The Idiot looked surprised, and tried to conceal a smile by sipping hiscoffee from a spoon.
"And Burrows?"
"No," returned the School-master, humbly. "I never read Burrows."
"Well, you ought to. It's a great book, and it's the one _RobertElsmere_ is taken from--same ideas all through, I'm told--that's why Ididn't read _Elsmere_. Waste of time, you know. But you noticedyourself, I suppose, that Clink's ground is the same as that covered in_Elsmere_?"
"No; I only dipped lightly into Clink," returned the School-master, withsome embarrassment.
"But you couldn't help noticing a similarity of ideas?" insisted theIdiot, calmly.
The School-master looked beseechingly at the Bibliomaniac, who wouldhave been glad to fly to his co-conspirator's assistance had he knownhow, but never having heard of Clink, or Burrows either, for thatmatter, he made up his mind that it was best for his reputation for himto stay out of the controversy.
"Very slight similarity, however," said the School-master, in despair.
"Where can I find Clink's books?" put in Mr. Whitechoker, very muchinterested.
The Idiot conveniently had his mouth full of chicken at the moment, andit was to the School-master who had also read him that they all--thelandlady included--looked for an answer.
"Oh, I think," returned that worthy, hesitatingly--"I think you'll findClink in any of the public libraries."
"What is his full name?" persisted Mr. Whitechoker, taking out amemorandum-book.
"Horace J. Clink," said the Idiot.
"Yes; that's it--Horace J. Clink," echoed the School-master. "Veryvirile writer and a clear thinker," he added, with some nervousness.
"What, if any, of his books would you specially recommend?" asked theMinister again.
The Idiot had by this time risen from the table, and was leaving theroom with the genial gentleman who occasionally imbibed.
The School-master's reply was not audible.
"I say," said the genial gentleman to the Idiot, as they passed out intothe hall, "they didn't get much the best of you in that matter. But,tell me, who was Clink, anyhow?"
"Never heard of him before," returned the Idiot.
"And Burrows?"
"Same as Clink."
"Know anything about _Elsmere_?" chuckled the genial gentleman.
"Nothing--except that it and 'Pigs in Clover' came out at the same time,and I stuck to the Pigs."
And the genial gentleman who occasionally imbibed was so pleased at theplight of the School-master and of the Bibliomaniac that he invited theIdiot up to his room, where the private stock was kept for just suchoccasions, and they put in a very pleasant morning together.