Read Through the Eye of the Needle: A Romance Page 40


  XII

  At this point there came a sound from within the marquee as of skirtssweeping forward sharply, imperiously, followed by a softer _frou-frou_,and Mrs. Thrall put aside the curtain of the tent with one hand, andstood challenging our little Altrurian group, while Lady Moors peeredtimidly at us from over her mother's shoulder. I felt a lust of battlerising in me at sight of that woman, and it was as much as I could do tocontrol myself; but in view of the bad time I knew she was going to have,I managed to hold in, though I joined very scantly in the politegreetings of the Chrysostoms and Aristides, which she ignored as if theyhad been the salutations of savages. She glared at her husband forexplanation, and he said, gently, "This is a delegation from theAltrurian capital, my dear, and we have been talking over the situationtogether."

  "But what is this," she demanded, "that I have heard about our notpaying? Do they accuse us of not paying? You could buy and sell the wholecountry."

  I never imagined so much mildness could be put into such offensive wordsas Cyril managed to get into his answer. "We accuse you of not paying,and we do not mean that you shall become chargeable to us. The men andwomen who served you on shipboard have been put to work, and you must goto work, too."

  "Mr. Thrall--Lord Moors--have you allowed these people to treat you as ifyou were part of the ship's crew? Why don't you give them what they wantand let them go? Of course it's some sort of blackmailing scheme. But youought to get rid of them at any cost. Then you can appeal to theauthorities, and tell them that you will bring the matter to the noticeof the government at Washington. They must be taught that they cannotinsult American citizens with impunity." No one spoke, and she added,"What do they really want?"

  "Well, my dear," her husband hesitated, "I hardly know how to explain.But it seems that they think our living here in the way we do isorderly, and--and they want us to go to work, in short."

  "To _work!_" she shouted.

  "Yes, all of us. That is, so I understand."

  "What nonsense!"

  She looked at us one after another, and when her eye rested on me, Ibegan to suspect that insolent as she was she was even duller; in fact,that she was so sodden in her conceit of wealth that she was plainstupid. So when she said to me, "You are an American by birth, I believe.Can you tell me the meaning of this?" I answered:

  "Cyril Chrysostom represents the authorities. If _he_ asks me to speak, Iwill speak." Cyril nodded at me with a smile, and I went on. "It is avery simple matter. In Altruria everybody works with his hands threehours a day. After that he works or not, as he likes."

  "What have we to do with that?" she asked.

  "The rule has no exceptions."

  "But we are not Altrurians; we are Americans."

  "I am an American, too, and I work three hours every day, unless I ampassing from one point to another on public business with my husband.Even then we prefer to stop during the work-hours, and help in thefields, or in the shops, or wherever we are needed. I left my own motherat home doing her kitchen work yesterday afternoon, though it was out ofhours, and she need not have worked."

  "Very well, then, we will do nothing of the kind, neither I, nor mydaughter, nor my husband. He has worked hard all his life, and he hascome away for a much-needed rest. I am not going to have him breakinghimself down."

  I could not help suggesting, "I suppose the men at work in his mines, andmills, and on his railroads and steamship lines are taking a much-neededrest, too. I hope you are not going to let them break themselves down,either."

  Aristides gave me a pained glance, and Cyril and his wife looked grave,but she not quite so grave as he. Lord Moors said, "We don't seem to begetting on. What Mrs. Thrall fails to see, and I confess I don't quitesee it myself, is that if we are not here _in forma pauperis_--"

  "But you _are_ here _in forma pauperis_," Cyril interposed, smilingly.

  "How is that? If we are willing to pay--if Mr. Thrall's credit isundeniably good--"

  "Mr. Thrall's credit is not good in Altruria; you can pay here only inone currency, in the sweat of your faces."

  "You want us to be Tolstoys, I suppose," Mrs. Thrall said,contemptuously.

  Cyril replied, gently, "The endeavor of Tolstoy, in capitalisticconditions, is necessarily dramatic. Your labor here will be for yourdaily bread, and it will be real." The inner dullness of the woman cameinto her eyes again, and he addressed himself to Lord Moors incontinuing: "If a company of indigent people were cast away on an Englishcoast, after you had rendered them the first aid, what should you do?"

  The young man reflected. "I suppose we should put them in the way ofearning a living until some ship arrived to take them home."

  "That is merely what we propose to do in your case here," Cyril said.

  "But we are not indigent--"

  "Yes, you are absolutely destitute. You have money and credit, butneither has any value in Altruria. Nothing but work or love has any valuein Altruria. You cannot realize too clearly that you stand before us _informa pauperis_. But we require of you nothing that we do not require ofourselves. In Altruria every one is poor till he pays with work; then,for that time, he is rich; and he cannot otherwise lift himself abovecharity, which, except in the case of the helpless, we consider immoral.Your life here offers a very corrupting spectacle. You are manifestlyliving without work, and you are served by people whose hire you are notable to pay."

  "My dear sir," Mr. Thrall said at this point, with a gentle smile, "Ithink they are willing to take the chances of being paid."

  "We cannot suffer them to do so. At present we know of no means of yourgetting away from Altruria. We have disused our custom of annuallyconnecting with the Australasian steamers, and it may be years before avessel touches on our coast. A ship sailed for Boston some months ago,with the promise of returning in order that the crew may cast in theirlot with us permanently. We do not confide in that promise, and you musttherefore conform to our rule of life. Understand clearly that thewillingness of your servants to serve you has nothing to do with thematter. That is part of the falsity in which the whole capitalistic worldlives. As the matter stands with you, here, there is as much reason whyyou should serve them as they should serve you. If on their side theyshould elect to serve you from love, they will be allowed to do so.Otherwise, you and they must go to work with the neighbors at the tasksthey will assign you."

  "Do you mean at once?" Lord Moors asked.

  "The hours of the obligatory labors are nearly past for the day. But ifyou are interested in learning what you will be set to doing to-morrow,the Communal authorities will be pleased to instruct you during theVoluntaries this afternoon. You may be sure that in no case will yourweakness or inexperience be overtasked. Your histories will be studied,and appropriate work will be assigned to each of you."

  Mrs. Thrall burst out, "If you think I am going into my kitchen--"

  Then I burst in, "I left my mother in _her_ kitchen!"

  "And a very fit place for her, I dare say," she retorted, but Lady Moorscaught her mother's arm and murmured, in much the same distress as showedin my husband's mild eyes, "Mother! Mother!" and drew her within.