书城公版Following the Equator
19413100000191

第191章

"Because you won't. Or if you do you can draw on me for a hundred dollars; for you will be the first man that has accomplished it in twenty-five years. I can't think what Mr. Daly can have been absorbed in. He has forgotten a most important detail, and he will feel humiliated in the morning when he finds that you tried to get in and couldn't.""Why, what is the trouble?"

"I'll tell you. You see----"

At that point we were swept apart by the crowd, somebody detained me with a moment's talk, and we did not get together again. But it did not matter; I believed he was joking, anyway.

At eight in the evening I passed through the cigar shop and into the court and knocked at the second door.

"Come in!"

I entered. It was a small room, carpetless, dusty, with a naked deal table, and two cheap wooden chairs for furniture. A giant Irishman was standing there, with shirt collar and vest unbuttoned, and no coat on. Iput my hat on the table, and was about to say something, when the Irishman took the innings himself. And not with marked courtesy of tone:

"Well, sor, what will you have?"

I was a little disconcerted, and my easy confidence suffered a shrinkage.

The man stood as motionless as Gibraltar, and kept his unblinking eye upon me. It was very embarrassing, very humiliating. I stammered at a false start or two; then----"I have just run down from----"

"Av ye plaze, ye'll not smoke here, ye understand."I laid my cigar on the window-ledge; chased my flighty thoughts a moment, then said in a placating manner:

"I--I have come to see Mr. Daly."

"Oh, ye have, have ye?"

"Yes"

"Well, ye'll not see him."

"But he asked me to come."

"Oh, he did, did he?"

"Yes, he sent me this note, and----"

"Lemme see it."

For a moment I fancied there would be a change in the atmosphere, now;but this idea was premature. The big man was examining the note searchingly under the gas-jet. A glance showed me that he had it upside down--disheartening evidence that he could not read.

"Is ut his own handwrite?"

"Yes--he wrote it himself."

"He did, did he?"

"Yes."

"H'm. Well, then, why ud he write it like that?""How do you mean?"

"I mane, why wudn't he put his naime to ut?"

"His name is to it. That's not it--you are looking at my name."I thought that that was a home shot, but he did not betray that he had been hit. He said:

"It's not an aisy one to spell; how do you pronounce ut?""Mark Twain."

"H'm. H'm. Mike Train. H'm. I don't remember ut. What is it ye want to see him about?""It isn't I that want to see him, he wants to see me.""Oh, he does, does he?"

"Yes."

"What does he want to see ye about?"

"I don't know."

"Ye don't know! And ye confess it, becod ! Well, I can tell ye wan thing--ye'll not see him. Are ye in the business?""What business?"

"The show business."

A fatal question. I recognized that I was defeated. If I answered no, he would cut the matter short and wave me to the door without the grace of a word--I saw it in his uncompromising eye; if I said I was a lecturer, he would despise me, and dismiss me with opprobrious words; if I said I was a dramatist, he would throw me out of the window. I saw that my case was hopeless, so I chose the course which seemed least humiliating: I would pocket my shame and glide out without answering.

The silence was growing lengthy.

"I'll ask ye again. Are ye in the show business yerself?""Yes!"

I said it with splendid confidence; for in that moment the very twin of that grand New Haven dog loafed into the room, and I saw that Irishman's eye light eloquently with pride and affection.