THE COMPLETE NOVELS OF MARK TWAIN - 12 Books in One Edition. Марк Твен

Relief Measure.”

      “Oh indeed I am not trying to distress you. I only wished to make good my assertion that I knew you. Several of you gentlemen bought of that stack (without paying a penny down) received dividends from it, (think of the happy idea of receiving dividends, and very large ones, too, from stock one hasn’t paid for!) and all the while your names never appeared in the transaction; if ever you took the stock at all, you took it in other people’s names. Now you see, you had to know one of two things; namely, you either knew that the idea of all this preposterous generosity was to bribe you into future legislative friendship, or you didn’t know it. That is to say, you had to be either a knave or a — well, a fool — there was no middle ground. You are not a fool, Mr. Trollop.”

      “Miss Hawking you flatter me. But seriously, you do not forget that some of the best and purest men in Congress took that stock in that way?”

      “Did Senator Blank?”

      “Well, no — I believe not.”

      “Of course you believe not. Do you suppose he was ever approached, on the subject?”

      “Perhaps not.”

      “If you had approached him, for instance, fortified with the fact that some of the best men in Congress, and the purest, etc., etc.; what would have been the result?”

      “Well, what WOULD have been the result?”

      “He would have shown you the door! For Mr. Blank is neither a knave nor a fool. There are other men in the Senate and the House whom no one would have been hardy enough to approach with that Relief Stock in that peculiarly generous way, but they are not of the class that you regard as the best and purest. No, I say I know you Mr. Trollop. That is to say, one may suggest a thing to Mr. Trollop which it would not do to suggest to Mr. Blank. Mr. Trollop, you are pledged to support the Indigent Congressmen’s Retroactive Appropriation which is to come up, either in this or the next session. You do not deny that, even in public. The man that will vote for that bill will break the eighth commandment in any other way, sir!”

      “But he will not vote for your corrupt measure, nevertheless, madam!” exclaimed Mr. Trollop, rising from his seat in a passion.

      “Ah, but he will. Sit down again, and let me explain why. Oh, come, don’t behave so. It is very unpleasant. Now be good, and you shall have the missing page of your great speech. Here it is!” — and she displayed a sheet of manuscript.

      Mr. Trollop turned immediately back from the threshold. It might have been gladness that flashed into his face; it might have been something else; but at any rate there was much astonishment mixed with it.

      “Good! Where did you get it? Give it me!”

      “Now there is no hurry. Sit down; sit down and let us talk and be friendly.”

      The gentleman wavered. Then he said:

      “No, this is only a subterfuge. I will go. It is not the missing page.”

      Laura tore off a couple of lines from the bottom of the sheet.

      “Now,” she said, “you will know whether this is the handwriting or not. You know it is the handwriting. Now if you will listen, you will know that this must be the list of statistics which was to be the ‘nub’ of your great effort, and the accompanying blast the beginning of the burst of eloquence which was continued on the next page — and you will recognize that there was where you broke down.”

      She read the page. Mr. Trollop said:

      “This is perfectly astounding. Still, what is all this to me? It is nothing. It does not concern me. The speech is made, and there an end. I did break down for a moment, and in a rather uncomfortable place, since I had led up to those statistics with some grandeur; the hiatus was pleasanter to the House and the galleries than it was to me. But it is no matter now. A week has passed; the jests about it ceased three or four days ago. The whole thing is a matter of indifference to me, Miss Hawkins.”

      “But you apologized; and promised the statistics for next day. Why didn’t you keep your promise.”

      “The matter was not of sufficient consequence. The time was gone by to produce an effect with them.”

      “But I hear that other friends of the Soldiers’ Pension Bill desire them very much. I think you ought to let them have them.”

      “Miss Hawkins, this silly blunder of my copyist evidently has more interest for you than it has for me. I will send my private secretary to you and let him discuss the subject with you at length.”

      “Did he copy your speech for you?”

      “Of course he did. Why all these questions? Tell me — how did you get hold of that page of manuscript? That is the only thing that stirs a passing interest in my mind.”

      “I’m coming to that.” Then she said, much as if she were talking to herself: “It does seem like taking a deal of unnecessary pains, for a body to hire another body to construct a great speech for him and then go and get still another body to copy it before it can be read in the House.”

      “Miss Hawkins, what do you mean by such talk as that?”

      “Why I am sure I mean no harm — no harm to anybody in the world. I am certain that I overheard the Hon. Mr. Buckstone either promise to write your great speech for you or else get some other competent person to do it.”

      “This is perfectly absurd, madam, perfectly absurd!” and Mr. Trollop affected a laugh of derision.

      “Why, the thing has occurred before now. I mean that I have heard that Congressmen have sometimes hired literary grubs to build speeches for them. — Now didn’t I overhear a conversation like that I spoke of?”

      “Pshaw! Why of course you may have overheard some such jesting nonsense. But would one be in earnest about so farcical a thing?”

      “Well if it was only a joke, why did you make a serious matter of it? Why did you get the speech written for you, and then read it in the House without ever having it copied?”

      Mr. Trollop did not laugh this time; he seemed seriously perplexed. He said:

      “Come, play out your jest, Miss Hawkins. I can’t understand what you are contriving — but it seems to entertain you — so please, go on.”

      “I will, I assure you; but I hope to make the matter entertaining to you, too. Your private secretary never copied your speech.”

      “Indeed? Really you seem to know my affairs better than I do myself.”

      “I believe I do. You can’t name your own amanuensis, Mr. Trollop.”

      “That is sad, indeed. Perhaps Miss Hawkins can?”

      “Yes, I can. I wrote your speech myself, and you read it from my manuscript. There, now!”

      Mr. Trollop did not spring to his feet and smite his brow with his hand while a cold sweat broke out all over him and the color forsook his face — no, he only said, “Good God!” and looked greatly astonished.

      Laura handed him her commonplace-book and called his attention to the fact that the handwriting there and the handwriting of this speech were the same. He was shortly convinced. He laid the book aside and said, composedly:

      “Well, the wonderful tragedy is done, and it transpires that I am indebted to you for my late eloquence. What of it? What was all this for and what does it amount to after all? What do you propose to do about it?”

      “Oh nothing. It is only a bit of pleasantry. When I overheard that conversation I took an early opportunity to ask Mr. Buckstone if he knew of anybody who might want a speech written — I had a friend, and so forth and so on. I was the friend, myself; I thought I might do you a good turn then and depend on you to do me one by and by. I never let Mr. Buckstone have the speech till the last moment, and when