Chapter 1
It was many years ago. Hadleyburg was the most honest and upright town in all the region round about. It had kept that reputation unsmirched during three generations, and was prouder of it than of any other of its possessions. It was so proud of it, and so anxious to insure its perpetuation, that it began to teach the principles of honest dealing to its babies in the cradle, and made the like teachings the staple of their culture thenceforward through all the years devoted to their education. Also, throughout the formative years temptations were kept out of the way of the young people, so that their honesty could have every chance to harden and solidify, and become a part of their very bone. The neighbouring towns were jealous of this honourable supremacy, and affected to sneer at Hadleyburg's pride in it and call it vanity; but all the same they were obliged to acknowledge that Hadleyburg was in reality an incorruptible town; and if pressed they would also acknowledge that the mere fact that a young man hailed from Hadleyburg was all the recommendation he needed when he went forth from his natal town to seek for responsible employment.
But at last, in the drift of time, Hadleyburg had the ill luck to offend a passing stranger--possibly without knowing it, certainly without caring, for Hadleyburg was sufficient unto itself, and cared not a rap for strangers or their opinions. Still, it would have been well to make an exception in this one's case, for he was a bitter man, and revengeful. All through his wanderings during a whole year he kept his injury in mind, and gave all his leisure moments to trying to invent a compensating satisfaction for it. He contrived many plans, and all of them were good, but none of them was quite sweeping enough: the poorest of them would hurt a great many individuals, but what he wanted was a plan which would comprehend the entire town, and not let so much as one person escape unhurt. At last he had a fortunate idea, and when it fell into his brain it lit up his whole head with an evil joy. He began to form a plan at once, saying to himself "That is the thing to do--I will corrupt the town."
Six months later he went to Hadleyburg, and arrived in a buggy at the house of the old cashier of the bank about ten at night. He got a sack out of the buggy, shouldered it, and staggered with it through the cottage yard, and knocked at the door. A woman's voice said "Come in," and he entered, and set his sack behind the stove in the parlour, saying politely to the old lady who sat reading the "Missionary Herald" by the lamp:
"Pray keep your seat, madam, I will not disturb you. There--now it is pretty well concealed; one would hardly know it was there. Can I see your husband a moment, madam?"
No, he was gone to Brixton, and might not return before morning.
"Very well, madam, it is no matter. I merely wanted to leave that sack in his care, to be delivered to the rightful owner when he shall be found. I am a stranger; he does not know me; I am merely passing through the town to-night to discharge a matter which has been long in my mind. My errand is now completed, and I go pleased and a little proud, and you will never see me again. There is a paper attached to the sack which will explain everything. Good- night, madam."
The old lady was afraid of the mysterious big stranger, and was glad to see him go. But her curiosity was roused, and she went straight to the sack and brought away the paper. It began as follows:
"TO BE PUBLISHED, or, the right man sought out by private inquiry-- either will answer. This sack contains gold coin weighing a hundred and sixty pounds four ounces--"
"Mercy on us, and the door not locked!"
Mrs. Richards flew to it all in a tremble and locked it, then pulled down the window-shades and stood frightened, worried, and wondering if there was anything else she could do toward making herself and the money more safe. She listened awhile for burglars, then surrendered to curiosity, and went back to the lamp and finished reading the paper:
"I am a foreigner, and am presently going back to my own country, to remain there permanently. I am grateful to America for what I have received at her hands during my long stay under her flag; and to one of her citizens--a citizen of Hadleyburg--I am especially grateful for a great kindness done me a year or two ago. Two great kindnesses in fact. I will explain. I was a gambler. I say I WAS. I was a ruined gambler. I arrived in this village at night, hungry and without a penny. I asked for help--in the dark; I was ashamed to beg in the light. I begged of the right man. He gave me twenty dollars--that is to say, he gave me life, as I considered it. He also gave me fortune; for out of that money I have made myself rich at the gaming-table. And finally, a remark which he made to me has remained with me to this day, and has at last conquered me; and in conquering has saved the remnant of my morals: I shall gamble no more. Now I have no idea who that man was, but I want him found, and I want him to have this money, to give away, throw away, or keep, as he pleases. It is merely my way of testifying my gratitude to him. If I could stay, I would find him myself; but no matter, he will be found. This is an honest town, an incorruptible town, and I know I can trust it without fear. This man can be identified by the remark which he made to me; I feel persuaded that he will remember it.
"And now my plan is this: If you prefer to conduct the inquiry privately, do so. Tell the contents of this present writing to any one who is likely to be the right man. If he shall answer, 'I am the man; the remark I made was so-and-so,' apply the test--to wit: open the sack, and in it you will find a sealed envelope containing that remark. If the remark mentioned by the candidate tallies with it, give him the money, and ask no further questions, for he is certainly the right man.
"But if you shall prefer a public inquiry, then publish this present writing in the local paper--with these instructions added, to wit: Thirty days from now, let the candidate appear at the town-hall at eight in the evening (Friday), and hand his remark, in a sealed envelope, to the Rev. Mr. Burgess (if he will be kind enough to act); and let Mr. Burgess there and then destroy the seals of the sack, open it, and see if the remark is correct: if correct, let the money be delivered, with my sincere gratitude, to my benefactor thus identified."
Mrs. Richards sat down, gently quivering with excitement, and was soon lost in thinkings--after this pattern: "What a strange thing it is! . . . And what a fortune for that kind man who set his bread afloat upon the waters! . . . If it had only been my husband that did it!--for we are so poor, so old and poor! . . ." Then, with a sigh--"But it was not my Edward; no, it was not he that gave a stranger twenty dollars. It is a pity too; I see it now. . . " Then, with a shudder--"But it is GAMBLERS' money! the wages of sin; we couldn't take it; we couldn't touch it. I don't like to be near it; it seems a defilement." She moved to a farther chair. . . "I wish Edward would come, and take it to the bank; a burglar might come at any moment; it is dreadful to be here all alone with it."
At eleven Mr. Richards arrived, and while his wife was saying "I am SO glad you've come!" he was saying, "I am so tired--tired clear out; it is dreadful to be poor, and have to make these dismal journeys at my time of life. Always at the grind, grind, grind, on a salary--another man's slave, and he sitting at home in his slippers, rich and comfortable."
"I am so sorry for you, Edward, you know that; but be comforted; we have our livelihood; we have our good name--"
"Yes, Mary, and that is everything. Don't mind my talk--it's just a moment's irritation and doesn't mean anything. Kiss me--there, it's all gone now, and I am not complaining any more. What have you been getting? What's in the sack?"
Then his wife told him the great secret. It dazed him for a moment; then he said:
"It weighs a hundred and sixty pounds? Why, Mary, it's for-ty thou- sand dollars--think of it--a whole fortune! Not ten men in this village are worth that much. Give me the paper."
He skimmed through it and said:
"Isn't it an adventure! Why, it's a romance; it's like the impossible things one reads about in books, and never sees in life." He was well stirred up now; cheerful, even gleeful. He tapped his old wife on the cheek, and said humorously, "Why, we're rich, Mary, rich; all we've got to do is to bury the money and burn the papers. If the gambler ever comes to inquire, we'll merely look coldly upon him and say: 'What is this nonsense you are talking? We have never heard of you and your sack of gold before;' and then he would look foolish, and--"
"And in the meantime, while you are running on with your jokes, the money is still here, and it is fast getting along toward burglar- time."
"True. Very well, what shall we do--make the inquiry private? No, not that; it would spoil the romance. The public method is better. Think what a noise it will make! And it will make all the other towns jealous; for no stranger would trust such a thing to any town but Hadleyburg, and they know it. It's a great card for us. I must get to the printing-office now, or I shall be too late."
"But stop--stop--don't leave me here alone with it, Edward!"
But he was gone. For only a little while, however. Not far from his own house he met the editor--proprietor of the paper, and gave him the document, and said "Here is a good thing for you, Cox--put it in."
"It may be too late, Mr. Richards, but I'll see."
At home again, he and his wife sat down to talk the charming mystery over; they were in no condition for sleep. The first question was, Who could the citizen have been who gave the stranger the twenty dollars? It seemed a simple one; both answered it in the same breath -
"Barclay Goodson."
"Yes," said Richards, "he could have done it, and it would have been like him, but there's not another in the town."
"Everybody will grant that, Edward--grant it privately, anyway. For six months, now, the village has been its own proper self once more- -honest, narrow, self-righteous, and stingy."
"It is what he always called it, to the day of his death--said it right out publicly, too."
"Yes, and he was hated for it."
"Oh, of course; but he didn't care. I reckon he was the best-hated man among us, except the Reverend Burgess."
"Well, Burgess deserves it--he will never get another congregation here. Mean as the town is, it knows how to estimate HIM. Edward, doesn't it seem odd that the stranger should appoint Burgess to deliver the money?"
"Well, yes--it does. That is--that is--"
"Why so much that-IS-ing? Would YOU select him?"
"Mary, maybe the stranger knows him better than this village does."
"Much THAT would help Burgess!"
The husband seemed perplexed for an answer; the wife kept a steady eye upon him, and waited. Finally Richards said, with the hesitancy of one who is making a statement which is likely to encounter doubt,
"Mary, Burgess is not a bad man."
His wife was certainly surprised.
"Nonsense!" she exclaimed.
"He is not a bad man. I know. The whole of his unpopularity had its foundation in that one thing--the thing that made so much noise."
"That 'one thing,' indeed! As if that 'one thing' wasn't enough, all by itself."
"Plenty. Plenty. Only he wasn't guilty of it."
"How you talk! Not guilty of it! Everybody knows he WAS guilty."
"Mary, I give you my word--he was innocent."
"I can't believe it and I don't. How do you know?"
"It is a confession. I am ashamed, but I will make it. I was the only man who knew he was innocent. I could have saved him, and-- and--well, you know how the town was wrought up--I hadn't the pluck to do it. It would have turned everybody against me. I felt mean, ever so mean; ut I didn't dare; I hadn't the manliness to face that."
Mary looked troubled, and for a while was silent. Then she said stammeringly:
"I--I don't think it would have done for you to--to--One mustn't-- er--public opinion--one has to be so careful --so--" It was a difficult road, and she got mired; but after a little she got started again. "It was a great pity, but-- Why, we couldn't afford it, Edward--we couldn't indeed. Oh, I wouldn't have had you do it for anything!"
"It would have lost us the good-will of so many people, Mary; and then--and then--"
"What troubles me now is, what HE thinks of us, Edward."
"He? HE doesn't suspect that I could have saved him."
"Oh," exclaimed the wife, in a tone of relief, "I am glad of that. As long as he doesn't know that you could have saved him, he--he-- well that makes it a great deal better. Why, I might have known he didn't know, because he is always trying to be friendly with us, as little encouragement as we give him. More than once people have twitted me with it. There's the Wilsons, and the Wilcoxes, and the Harknesses, they take a mean pleasure in saying 'YOUR FRIEND Burgess,' because they know it pesters me. I wish he wouldn't persist in liking us so; I can't think why he keeps it up."
"I can explain it. It's another confession. When the thing was new and hot, and the town made a plan to ride him on a rail, my conscience hurt me so that I couldn't stand it, and I went privately and gave him notice, and he got out of the town and stayed out till it was safe to come back."
"Edward! If the town had found it out--"
"DON'T! It scares me yet, to think of it. I repented of it the minute it was done; and I was even afraid to tell you lest your face might betray it to somebody. I didn't sleep any that night, for worrying. But after a few days I saw that no one was going to suspect me, and after that I got to feeling glad I did it. And I feel glad yet, Mary--glad through and through."
"So do I, now, for it would have been a dreadful way to treat him. Yes, I'm glad; for really you did owe him that, you know. But, Edward, suppose it should come out yet, some day!"
"It won't."
"Why?"
"Because everybody thinks it was Goodson."
"Of course they would!"
"Certainly. And of course HE didn't care. They persuaded poor old Sawlsberry to go and charge it on him, and he went blustering over there and did it. Goodson looked him over, like as if he was hunting for a place on him that he could despise the most; then he says, 'So you are the Committee of Inquiry, are you?' Sawlsberry said that was about what he was. 'H'm. Do they require particulars, or do you reckon a kind of a GENERAL answer will do?' 'If they require particulars, I will come back, Mr. Goodson; I will take the general answer first.' 'Very well, then, tell them to go to hell--I reckon that's general enough. And I'll give you some advice, Sawlsberry; when you come back for the particulars, fetch a basket to carry what is left of yourself home in.'"
"Just like Goodson; it's got all the marks. He had only one vanity; he thought he could give advice better than any other person."
"It settled the business, and saved us, Mary. The subject was dropped."
"Bless you, I'm not doubting THAT."
Then they took up the gold-sack mystery again, with strong interest. Soon the conversation began to suffer breaks--interruptions caused by absorbed thinkings. The breaks grew more and more frequent. At last Richards lost himself wholly in thought. He sat long, gazing vacantly at the floor, and by-and-by he began to punctuate his thoughts with little nervous movements of his hands that seemed to indicate vexation. Meantime his wife too had relapsed into a thoughtful silence, and her movements were beginning to show a troubled discomfort. Finally Richards got up and strode aimlessly about the room, ploughing his hands through his hair, much as a somnambulist might do who was having a bad dream. Then he seemed to arrive at a definite purpose; and without a word he put on his hat and passed quickly out of the house. His wife sat brooding, with a drawn face, and did not seem to be aware that she was alone. Now and then she murmured, "Lead us not into t . . . but--but--we are so poor, so poor! . . . Lead us not into . . . Ah, who would be hurt by it?--and no one would ever know . . . Lead us . . . " The voice died out in mumblings. After a little she glanced up and muttered in a half-frightened, half-glad way -
"He is gone! But, oh dear, he may be too late--too late . . . Maybe not--maybe there is still time." She rose and stood thinking, nervously clasping and unclasping her hands. A slight shudder shook her frame, and she said, out of a dry throat, "God forgive me--it's awful to think such things--but . . . Lord, how we are made--how strangely we are made!"
She turned the light low, and slipped stealthily over and knelt down by the sack and felt of its ridgy sides with her hands, and fondled them lovingly; and there was a gloating light in her poor old eyes. She fell into fits of absence; and came half out of them at times to mutter "If we had only waited!--oh, if we had only waited a little, and not been in such a hurry!"
Meantime Cox had gone home from his office and told his wife all about the strange thing that had happened, and they had talked it over eagerly, and guessed that the late Goodson was the only man in the town who could have helped a suffering stranger with so noble a sum as twenty dollars. Then there was a pause, and the two became thoughtful and silent. And by-and-by nervous and fidgety. At last the wife said, as if to herself,
"Nobody knows this secret but the Richardses . . . and us . . . nobody."
The husband came out of his thinkings with a slight start, and gazed wistfully at his wife, whose face was become very pale; then he hesitatingly rose, and glanced furtively at his hat, then at his wife--a sort of mute inquiry. Mrs. Cox swallowed once or twice, with her hand at her throat, then in place of speech she nodded her head. In a moment she was alone, and mumbling to herself.
And now Richards and Cox were hurrying through the deserted streets, from opposite directions. They met, panting, at the foot of the printing-office stairs; by the night-light there they read each other's face. Cox whispered:
"Nobody knows about this but us?"
The whispered answer was:
"Not a soul--on honour, not a soul!"
"If it isn't too late to--"
The men were starting up-stairs; at this moment they were overtaken by a boy, and Cox asked,
"Is that you, Johnny?"
"Yes, sir."
"You needn't ship the early mail--nor ANY mail; wait till I tell you."
"It's already gone, sir."
"GONE?" It had the sound of an unspeakable disappointment in it.
"Yes, sir. Time-table for Brixton and all the towns beyond changed to-day, sir--had to get the papers in twenty minutes earlier than common. I had to rush; if I had been two minutes later--"
The men turned and walked slowly away, not waiting to hear the rest. Neither of them spoke during ten minutes; then Cox said, in a vexed tone,
"What possessed you to be in such a hurry, I can't make out."
The answer was humble enough:
"I see it now, but somehow I never thought, you know, until it was too late. But the next time--"
"Next time be hanged! It won't come in a thousand years."
Then the friends separated without a good-night, and dragged themselves home with the gait of mortally stricken men. At their homes their wives sprang up with an eager "Well?"--then saw the answer with their eyes and sank down sorrowing, without waiting for it to come in words. In both houses a discussion followed of a heated sort--a new thing; there had been discussions before, but not heated ones, not ungentle ones. The discussions to-night were a sort of seeming plagiarisms of each other. Mrs. Richards said:
"If you had only waited, Edward--if you had only stopped to think; but no, you must run straight to the printing-office and spread it all over the world."
"It SAID publish it."
"That is nothing; it also said do it privately, if you liked. There, now--is that true, or not?"
"Why, yes--yes, it is true; but when I thought what a stir it would make, and what a compliment it was to Hadleyburg that a stranger should trust it so--"
"Oh, certainly, I know all that; but if you had only stopped to think, you would have seen that you COULDN'T find the right man, because he is in his grave, and hasn't left chick nor child nor relation behind him; and as long as the money went to somebody that awfully needed it, and nobody would be hurt by it, and--and--"
She broke down, crying. Her husband tried to think of some comforting thing to say, and presently came out with this:
"But after all, Mary, it must be for the best--it must be; we know that. And we must remember that it was so ordered--"
"Ordered! Oh, everything's ORDERED, when a person has to find some way out when he has been stupid. Just the same, it was ORDERED that the money should come to us in this special way, and it was you that must take it on yourself to go meddling with the designs of Providence--and who gave you the right? It was wicked, that is what it was--just blasphemous presumption, and no more becoming to a meek and humble professor of--"
"But, Mary, you know how we have been trained all our lives long, like the whole village, till it is absolutely second nature to us to stop not a single moment to think when there's an honest thing to be done--"
"Oh, I know it, I know it--it's been one everlasting training and training and training in honesty--honesty shielded, from the very cradle, against every possible temptation, and so it's ARTIFICIAL honesty, and weak as water when temptation comes, as we have seen this night. God knows I never had shade nor shadow of a doubt of my petrified and indestructible honesty until now--and now, under the very first big and real temptation, I--Edward, it is my belief that this town's honesty is as rotten as mine is; as rotten as yours. It is a mean town, a hard, stingy town, and hasn't a virtue in the world but this honesty it is so celebrated for and so conceited about; and so help me, I do believe that if ever the day comes that its honesty falls under great temptation, its grand reputation will go to ruin like a house of cards. There, now, I've made confession, and I feel better; I am a humbug, and I've been one all my life, without knowing it. Let no man call me honest again--I will not have it."
"I-- Well, Mary, I feel a good deal as you do: I certainly do. It seems strange, too, so strange. I never could have believed it-- never."
A long silence followed; both were sunk in thought. At last the wife looked up and said:
"I know what you are thinking, Edward."
Richards had the embarrassed look of a person who is caught.
"I am ashamed to confess it, Mary, but--"
"It's no matter, Edward, I was thinking the same question myself."
"I hope so. State it."
"You were thinking, if a body could only guess out WHAT THE REMARK WAS that Goodson made to the stranger."
"It's perfectly true. I feel guilty and ashamed. And you?"
"I'm past it. Let us make a pallet here; we've got to stand watch till the bank vault opens in the morning and admits the sack. . . Oh dear, oh dear--if we hadn't made the mistake!"
The pallet was made, and Mary said:
"The open sesame--what could it have been? I do wonder what that remark could have been. But come; we will get to bed now."
"And sleep?"
"No; think."
"Yes; think."
By this time the Coxes too had completed their spat and their reconciliation, and were turning in--to think, to think, and toss, and fret, and worry over what the remark could possibly have been which Goodson made to the stranded derelict; that golden remark; that remark worth forty thousand dollars, cash.
The reason that the village telegraph-office was open later than usual that night was this: The foreman of Cox's paper was the local representative of the Associated Press. One might say its honorary representative, for it wasn't four times a year that he could furnish thirty words that would be accepted. But this time it was different. His despatch stating what he had caught got an instant answer:
"Send the whole thing--all the details--twelve hundred words."
A colossal order! The foreman filled the bill; and he was the proudest man in the State. By breakfast-time the next morning the name of Hadleyburg the Incorruptible was on every lip in America, from Montreal to the Gulf, from the glaciers of Alaska to the orange-groves of Florida; and millions and millions of people were discussing the stranger and his money-sack, and wondering if the right man would be found, and hoping some more news about the matter would come soon--right away.
 
这件事已经过去多年了。当时哈德莱堡是四里八乡最诚实、最正直的一个镇子。它把这种从没有污点的名望一直保持了三辈儿，并且以此为荣，把这种名望看得重于它拥有的其他一切。这种自豪感是如此强烈，保持这种荣誉的愿望是如此迫切，以至于镇子里的婴儿在摇篮里就开始接受诚实信念的熏陶，而且，这一类的教诲还要作为主要内容，在以后对他们进行教育时贯穿始终。另外，在整个发育期里，青年人要与一切诱惑彻底隔绝，这样，他们的诚实就能够利用一点一滴的机会变得坚定而牢固，成为他们的主心骨。邻近的那些镇子都嫉妒这种至高无上的荣耀，他们表面上对哈德莱堡人以诚实为荣冷嘲热讽，说那是虚荣心作怪；然而，他们也不得不承认哈德莱堡的的确确是一个腐蚀不了的镇子；再追问下去，他们还会承认：一个想离家出外找一个好工作的青年人，如果他是从哈德莱堡出去的，那么，他除了自己老家的牌子以外，就用不着带什么推荐信了。
然而，日久天长，哈德莱堡因为得罪一位过路的外地人终于倒了霉——这件事他们也许出于无心，肯定也没有在意，因为哈德莱堡功德圆满，所以，无论是外乡人的闲言碎语，还是高谈阔论，哈德莱堡人都无须在意。可话又说了回来，早知此人是个爱记仇、不好惹的家伙，当初对他破破例不就万事大吉了吗？整整一年的功夫，那人无论走到哪儿，肚子里总憋着在哈德莱堡受的委屈，只要一有空闲，就挖空心思地琢磨怎么能报复一下，让自己心里舒坦。他想了好多好多的主意，这些主意全都不错，可没有一个十全十美的；要害之处在于：这些主意只能一个一个地伤害好多人，而他想要的却是能把全镇一网打尽的办法，不能有一条未受伤害的漏网之鱼。最后他灵机一动，想到了一个主意，这主意刚冒出来，他的脑海中就被幸灾乐祸的光芒照得通明透亮。他马上开始拟定一项实施方案，还自言自语地说：“就这么办——我要把那个镇子拉下水！”
六个月之后，他坐着一辆轻便马车再次来到哈德莱堡，约摸晚上十点钟左右，马车停在了银行老出纳员的大门外。他从马车上搬下一只口袋，扛着它跌跌撞撞地穿过院子，敲了敲门。一个女人的声音说了声“请进”，他就进去了。他把那只口袋放在客厅里火炉的后面，客客气气地向正在灯下坐着看《教友导报》的老太太说：
“您只管坐着好了，太太，我不打扰您。好了——现在这东西藏得严严实实；谁想知道它在哪儿可不容易了。太太，我能见见您先生吗？”
“不成，他上布里克斯顿了，也许过半夜才能回来。”
“很好，太太，这不要紧。我只不过是想让您先生照管一下这只口袋，如果他找到了物主，就转交给他。我是外地人，您先生不认识我；今天夜里我是特意路经这个镇子，了却我搁了好久的一桩心事。现在事情已经办妥，我可以走了，我很高兴，还稍稍有点儿得意，以后你们再也不会见到我了。口袋上别着一张字条，上面把所有的事都说清楚了。晚安，太太。”
这位老太太害怕这个神山鬼没的大个子外地人，见他走了心里才踏实。不过她的好奇心被引逗了起来，就直奔口袋而去，取下了那张字条。上面开头的话是：
请予公布；或者用私访的办法找到物主——只要能找到物主，无论哪一种办法皆可。这个口袋里装的是金币，重一百六十磅零四盎司——
“老天，门没锁呀！”
理查兹太太哆哆嗦嗦地扑过去把门锁上，然后把窗帘放下来，战战兢兢地站在那儿，提心吊胆，思量还有什么办法能让自己和那一口袋钱更保险一点儿。她竖起耳朵听听有没有贼，过了一会儿，她抵挡不住好奇心，又回到灯下，看完了那张纸上的话：
我是个外国人，马上就要回本国去，在那里常住。我在贵国旗下逗留了很长时间，多蒙贵国关照，不胜感谢；对于贵国的一位公民——一位哈德莱堡的公民——我更想格外致以谢意，因为一两年前他有大恩于我。事实上，那是两桩恩德。容我细说端详。我曾经是个赌徒。我的意思是，我过去是个赌徒。一个输得精光的赌徒。那天夜里我来到这个镇子的时候，腹内空空，身无分文。我向人求告——是在黑影里，我不好意思在亮处乞讨。我求对人了。他给了我二十块钱——也可以说，他给了我一条命，我当时就是这么想的。他还给了我财运；因为我靠那笔钱在赌场里发了大财。还有最后一条：当时他对我说过的一句话我记在心上，直到如今。这句话最后让我口服心服；因为口服心服，我才良心发现，再也不赌了。现在我并不知道他是谁，可是我要找到他，让他得到这笔钱，至于他是把钱给人，扔掉，还是自己留着，全都由他。这只不过是我知恩图报的方式罢了。假士。我可以在此地逗留，我本来会自己去找他；不过没有关系。一定能找到他的。这是个诚实的镇子，腐蚀不了的镇子，我知道我可以信任它，不用担心。凭那位先生当年对我说的那句话，就可以确定哪一位是我的恩人；我相信他一定还记得那句话。
现在我有这样一个办法：假如您愿意进行私访，悉听尊便。把这张纸上写的话告诉每一个可能是那位先生的人，假如他回答说，“我就是那个人；我当初说过怎样的一句话，”就请核实一下——也就是说：打开口袋，您能在口袋里找到一个装着那句话的密封信袋。如果那位候选人所说的话与此相符，那就把这笔钱交给他，不用再问下去了，因为他无疑就是那位先生。
如果您愿意公开寻访，就请把这番话发表在本地报纸上——再加上如下说明，即：从当日起三十天内，请申领人于（星期五）晚八时光临镇公所，将他当初所说的话密封交给（如果他肯费心料理的话）伯杰斯牧师；请伯杰斯先生届时到场，把钱袋上的封条去掉，打开钱袋，看与袋内的话是否相符；如果相符，就请将这笔钱连同我的衷心谢意一起，交给我的这位已经确认身份的恩人。
理查兹太太坐下来，先是激动得颤颤巍巍，很快又陷入了沉思——她的思路如下：“这可真是件蹊跷事儿！……那个好心人蜻蜓点水施舍了几个小钱，瞧这份回报！……这件好事要是我丈夫干的就好了！——因为我们太穷了，这么老了，还这么穷！……”这时她叹了一口气——“可这并不是我的爱德华干的；不是，给外地人二十块钱的不是他。这可真不巧，真的；现在我明白了……”这时她打了个冷战——“不过，这是赌徒的钱哪！是不清不白得来的：这种钱咱们可不能拿，连沾都不能沾。我可要离它远远的；这钱一看就赃兮兮的。”她换了把远一点的椅子坐下来——“我盼着爱德华回来，把这钱拿到银行去；说不定什么时候小偷就会来；一个人在这儿守着它真难熬啊。”
十一点钟的时候，理查兹先生回来了，他妻子迎头就说：“你可回来了！”他却说：“我太累了——累得要死；过穷日子可真不容易，到了这个岁数还要出这种苦差。就为那点儿薪水，熬来熬去熬不出头，……给人家当奴才；可人家趿拉着拖鞋在家里坐着，有的是钱，真舒坦哪。”
“为了你，我有多难过呀，爱德华，这你都知道；不过，你得想开点儿：咱们的日子总算还过得去；咱们的名声也不错……”
“是呀，玛丽，这比什么都要紧哪。我刚才说的话你别放在心上——我就是一阵儿想不开，算不了什么。亲亲我——好了，什么事也没了，我也不再发牢骚了。你弄什么东西来了？口袋里有什么？”
于是，他妻子把那个天大的秘密告诉了他。一阵天旋地转之后，他说：
“一百六十磅重？唉，玛丽，那得有四——万——块钱哪——想想——一大笔财产啊！咱们镇子上有这么多财产的人过不了十个。给我看看那张纸。”
他把那张字条扫了一遍，说：
“这可是出了奇了！嘿，简直就像小说一样；和书上那些没影的事一样，平常谁见过这样的事呀。”这时他激动起来，神采奕奕，兴高采烈。他打着哈哈弹弹老太婆的脸蛋儿，说：“嗨，咱们发财了，玛丽，发财了。咱们只要把这些钱埋起来；把这张纸一烧就行了。要是那个赌徒再来打听，咱们只要爱理不理地瞪着他，说： ‘你说什么胡话呀？我们从来没听说过你，也没听说过你那条什么金子口袋。’那时候，他就傻了眼，还有——”
“还有，你就顺嘴说笑话吧，那一袋子钱可还堆在这儿哪，眼看就要到贼出门的时候了。”
“你说得对。好吧，那咱们怎么办呢——私访？不行，不能这么办：那可就把这篇小说糟蹋啦。还是挑明了好。想想看，这件事得闹出多大的动静来！还不让别的镇子全都嫉妒死。在这种事情上，除了哈德莱堡，一个外乡人还能信得过谁呀，这一点他们心里都有数。这不是给咱们镇子金榜题名吗。我现在就得到报馆的印刷厂去，要不然就来不及了。”
“慢着——慢着——别把我一个人留在这儿守着它呀，爱德华！”
可是他已经走了。不过只走了一小会儿。在离家不远的地方，他就遇见了报馆的主笔兼老板。理查兹把那篇文字交给他说：“我有一篇好东西给你，考克斯——登出来吧。”
“可能太晚了，理查兹先生，不过我看一看吧。”
回到家里，他和妻子坐下来又把这件迷人的蹊跷事谈论了一遍；两个人一丝睡意都没有。第一个问题是，那位给过外乡人二十块钱的公民会是谁呢？这个问题似乎很简单；夫妻俩不约而同地说了出来：
“巴克利•古德森。”
“不错，”理查兹说，“这样的事他干得出来，这也正是他的作派，像他这样的人镇子里再也挑不出第二个了。”
“谁都会这么说，爱德华——不管当众怎么样，背后谁都会这么说。到如今有六个月了吧，咱们镇子又变成原来那个老样子啦——诚实，小心眼，老子天下第一，还老虎屁股摸不得。”
“他向来都是这么说的，一直说到咽气的那一天——还一点儿都不避人。”
“是呀，就为了这个，他才遭人恨。”
“嗨，就是；不过他倒不在乎。叫我说，除了伯杰斯牧师，在咱们这些人当中，最遭人恨的就是他了。”
“可伯杰斯遭人恨是活该呀——在这块地方，他再也别想有人听他布道了。虽说这镇子也没什么出息，可人们对他总还是心里有数的。爱德华，这个外乡人指名让伯杰斯发这笔钱，这件事看起来是不是有点怪呀？”
“哎，对——是有点怪。那是——那是——”
“哪来的这么多‘那是’呀？换了你会挑他吗？”
“玛丽，说不定那个外乡人比这镇子上的人更了解他哪。”
“这话说得再多，也帮不了伯杰斯的忙！”
丈夫似乎左右为难，不知说什么好；妻子直瞪瞪地盯住他，等着他答话。理查兹后来犹犹豫豫地开口了，好像明知道他的话要受到质疑：
“玛丽，伯杰斯不是个坏人呀。”
他妻子自然是吃了一惊。
“胡说！”她叫了起来。
“他不是个坏人。这我明白。他人缘不好，都是因为那一件事——就是闹得沸沸扬扬的那一件事。”
“那‘一件事’，太对啦！就那‘一件事”还不够大么？”
“够大了。够大了。只不过那件事不是他的错啊。”
“你说什么！不是他的错！谁都知道，就是他作的孽！”
“玛丽，你听我的——他是清白的。”
“我没法相信，我不信。你是怎么知道的？”
“这是不打自招。我没脸说，可是我非得说出来不可。只有我一个人知道他清白。我本来能够救他，可是——可是——唉，你知道那时候全镇子上的人一边倒——我哪有勇气说出来呀。一说出来大家就都冲着我来了。我也觉得那样做不够意思，太不够意思了，可是我不敢哪；我没有勇气和众人对着干。”
玛丽一副心烦意乱的样子，一声不吭。过了一会儿，她吞吞吐吐地说：
“我——我想你就是——就是—— 也没有什么用处。人可不能——呃——大家伙的看法——不能不那么小心——那么——”这条路不大好走，她绕不出来了；可是，稍停一会儿，她又开了腔。“要说这件事是不大合适，可是——嗨，咱们顶不住呀，爱德华——真是顶不住啊。哎，无论如何，我也不愿让你说出来！”
“玛丽，假如说出来，不知会有多少人不拿正眼看咱们；那样一来——那样一来——”
“现在我担心的是他怎么看咱们，爱德华。”
“他？他可没想过我当初能够救他。”
“啊，”妻子松了一口气，嚷嚷着，“这样我就高兴了。只要他当初不知道你能够救他，他——他——呃，这件事就好办多了。唉，我原本就该想到他不知道，虽然咱们不大搭理他，可他老是想跟咱们套近乎。别人拿这件事挖苦我可不止一次了。像威尔逊两口子，威尔科克斯两口子，还有哈克内斯两口子，他们都话里有话地寻开心，明知道我面子上过不去，非要说‘你们的朋友伯杰斯’如何如何。我可不想让他一个劲儿缠着咱们；我不明白他为什么不撒手呢。”
“他为什么这样做我明白。这可又是不打自招了。那件事刚闹出来，正在沸沸扬扬的时候，镇上打算让他‘爬竿’。我被良心折磨得简直受不了，偷偷去给他通风报信，他就离开镇子，到外地避风去了，直躲到没事儿了才回来。”
“爱德华！当时镇上要是查出来——”
“别说了！直到现在我一想起来还害怕呢。那件事刚做完我就后悔了；所以我都没敢跟你说，就怕你脸上挂不住，被别人看出来。那天晚上，我心里嘀咕，一夜都没有合眼。可是过了几天，一看谁也没有怀疑，从那以后我又觉得干了那么一件事挺高兴。到现在我还高兴呢，玛丽——别提有多高兴了。”
“现在我也高兴啊，那样对待他也太可怕了。是呀，我挺高兴；你知道，你这样做才算对得起他。可是，爱德华，万一这件事哪天露了馅呢？”
“不会。”
“为什么？”
“因为谁都会以为那是古德森干的。”
“他们一定是这么想的！”
“就是。当然啦，他也不在乎大家这么想。大家撺掇那个可怜的索斯伯里老汉找他算账，老汉就照他们说的风风火火跑了去。古德森把老汉上上下下打量了一遍，好像要在索斯伯里身上找出一块自己特别瞧不起的地方，然后说：‘这么说，你是调查组的，是吗？’索斯伯里说：差不离吧。‘哦。依你说，他们是想仔仔细细地问呢，还是听点儿简单的就行了呢？’‘古德森先生，要是他们想仔仔细细地问，我就再来一趟；我先听简单的吧。’‘那太好了，你就让他们全都见他妈的鬼去——我觉得这够简单的了。索斯伯里，我再劝你几句；你再来仔仔细细打听的时候，带个篮子来，把你那几根老骨头提回家去。’”
“古德森就是这样；一点都没走样。他老是觉得他的主意比谁都强：他就这点虚荣心。”
“玛丽，这一来就万事大吉，把咱们给救了。那件事再也不会有人提了。”
“老天有眼，我想也不会有人提了。”
他们又兴致勃勃地把话头引回那袋神秘的金子上来。过了一会儿，他们的谈话开始有了停顿——因为沉思而停顿。停顿的次数越来越多。最后理查兹竟然想呆了。他坐了半天，神情茫然地盯着地板，慢慢地，他的两只手开始做一些神经质的小动作，圈点着心里的念头，好像是有点儿着急。这时候，他妻子也犯了老毛病，一声不吭地想心事，从神态看得出她心乱如麻，不大自在。最后，理查兹站了起来，漫无目标地在房间里溜达，十个手指头在头发里蓖过来，蓖过去，就像一个梦游的人正做一个噩梦。后来，他好像是拿定了主意；一声不响地戴上帽子，大步流星地出门去了。他妻子还在皱着眉头想心事，好像没有发觉屋里只剩下她一个人了。她不时喃喃自语：可别把我们引到……可是——可是——我们真是太穷了，太穷了！……，可别把我们引到……啊，这碍别人的事吗？——再说谁也不会知道……可别把我们……”她的声音越来越小，后来只剩下嘴唇动弹。稍停，她抬头扫了一眼，半惊半喜地说——
“他去了！可是，天哪，也许太晚了——来不及了……也许还不晚——也许还来得及。”她起身站着想，神经质地一会儿把两手绞在一起，一会儿又松开。一阵轻微的颤栗掠过全身，她从干哑的嗓子挤出了声音：“上帝饶恕我吧——这念头真可怕呀——可是……上帝呀，看我们成什么样子啦——我们都变成怪物了！”
她把灯光拧小一点，蹑手蹑脚地溜到那只口袋旁跪下，用手触摸着鼓鼓囊囊的边边角角，爱不释手；年迈昏花的老眼中闪出一丝贪婪的光。她有时像灵魂出窍；有时又有一半清醒，嘟嘟囔囔地说：“我们要是能等一等就好了！——啊，只要等那么一小会儿，别那么着急就好了！”
这时候，考克斯也从办公室回到家里，把这件蹊跷事原原本本地告诉了自己的妻子，迫不及待地议论了一番之后，他们猜到了已故的古德森，认为全镇子的男人里头只有他才会慷慨解囊拿出二十块钱来，用这笔不小的数目去接济一个落难的外乡人。后来，他们的谈话停了下来，俩人默默无言地想起了心事。他们的神经越来越紧张，烦躁不安。最后妻子开口了，好像是自言自语：
“除了理查兹两口子……还有咱们，谁也不知道这个秘密……没有别人了。”
丈夫微微受到触动，从冥思苦想中解脱出来；他眼巴巴地瞪着脸色刷白的妻子；后来。他迟迟疑疑地站起身。偷偷地膜了一眼帽子，又瞟了一眼自己的妻子——这是无声的请示。考克斯太太三番两次欲言又止，后来她以手封喉，点头示意。很快，家里只剩下她一个人在那里自言自语了。
这时，理查兹和考克斯脚步匆匆，穿过阒无人迹的街道，迎头走来。两人气喘吁吁地在印刷厂的楼梯口碰了面；夜色中，他们相互打量着对方的脸色。考克斯悄悄地问：
“除了咱们，没人知道这件事吧？”
悄悄地回答：
“鬼都不知道——我担保，鬼都不知道！”
“要是还来得及——”
两个人上了楼梯；就在这时候，一个小伙子赶了上来，考克斯问道：
“是你吗，约翰尼？”
“是，先生。”
“你先不用发早班邮件——什么邮件都别发；等着，到时候我告诉你。”
“已经发走了，先生。”
“发走了？”话音里包含着难以言传的失望。
“是，先生。从今天起到布里克斯顿以远所有城镇的火车都改点了，先生——报纸要比往常早发二十分钟。我只好紧赶慢赶；要是再晚两分钟就——”
俩人没听他说完，就掉过头去慢慢走开了。大约有十分钟，两个人都没有出声；后来考克斯气哼哼地说：
“你究竟赶个什么劲呀，我真不明白。”
毕恭毕敬地回答：
“我现在明白了，你看，也不知道是怎么搞的，我老是不动脑子，想吃后悔药也来不及。不过下一次——”
“下一次个屁！一千年也不会有下一次了。”
这对朋友没道晚安就各奔东西；各自拖着两条腿走回家去，就像霜打了一样。回到家，他们的妻子都一跃而起，迫不及待地问“怎么样？”——她们用眼睛就得出了答案，不等听一字半句，自己先垂头丧气一屁股坐了下去。两家都发生了激烈的争论——这可是新鲜事；从前两口子也拌嘴，可是都不激烈，也没有撕破过脸面。今天夜里两家的口角就好像是一个师傅教出来的。理查兹太太说：
“爱德华，要是你等一等——要是你停下来琢磨琢磨呢；可是你不，你非要直奔报馆的印刷厂，把这件事嚷嚷出去，让天下的人都知道。”
“那上面是说了要发表呀。”
“说了又怎么样；那上面还说可以私访呢，只要你愿意才算数。现在可好——我没说错吧？”
“嗨，没错——没错，真是那么说的；不过，我一想这件事会闹得沸沸扬扬，一想到一个外乡人这么信得过哈德莱堡，这是多大的脸面——”
“啊，当然啦，这些我都明白；可是只要你等一等，仔细想想，不就能想起来已经找不到应该得这笔钱的人了吗。他已经进了棺材，也没有留下一男半女，连亲戚也没有；这么一来，这笔钱要是归了哪个急等用钱的人，对谁都没有妨碍呀，再说——再说——”
她说不下去，哭了起来。她丈夫本来是想找几句宽心话，可脱口而出的却是这么几句：
“可是，玛丽，别管怎么说，这样做肯定是最好的办法——肯定是；咱们心里有数。再说，咱们别忘了，这也是命啊——”
“命！嗬，一个人要是于了蠢事想找个借口，就说‘什么都是命啊！’要说命，这笔钱特地来到咱们家，不也是命吗？老天爷已经安排好的事，你非要插一杠子——谁给你这种权力啦？这叫瞎折腾，就是这么回事——敬酒不吃吃罚酒，你就别再装老实人、装规矩人啦——”
“可是，玛丽，你也知道咱们从小到大受的是什么教育，把咱们教的只要是老实事，想也不想就马上去做，全镇子上的人都是这样，这都变成咱们的第二天性——”
“噢，我知道，我知道——没完没了的教育、教育、教育，教人要诚实——从摇篮里就开始教，拿诚实当挡箭牌，抵制一切诱惑，所以这诚实全是假的，诱惑一来，就全都泡汤了，今天晚上咱们可都看见了。老天在上，我对自己这种僵成了石头、想打都打不烂的诚实从来没有一丝一毫的怀疑，直到今天——今天，第一次真正的大诱惑一来，我就——爱德华，我相信全镇子的诚实都变味了，就像我一样；也像你一样，都变味了。这个镇子卑鄙，冷酷、吝啬，除了吹牛、摆架子的诚实，这个镇子连一点儿德行都没有了；我敢发誓，我确实相信，有朝一日这份诚实在要命的诱惑脚底下栽了跟头，它的鼎鼎大名会像纸糊的房子一样变成碎片。好，这一回我可是彻底坦白了，心里也好受了。我是个骗子，活了一辈子，骗了一辈子，自己还不知道。以后谁也别再说我诚实——我可受不了。”
“我——哎，玛丽，我心里想的和你一模一样，我真是这么想的。这好像有点怪，太怪了。过去我从来不敢相信会是这样——从来不信。”
随后是一阵长时间的沉默；夫妻俩都陷入了沉思。最后妻子抬起头来说：
“我知道你在想什么，爱德华。”
理查兹一脸被人抓住了把柄的窘态。
“如实说出来真没脸见人，玛丽，可是——”
“没事，爱德华，我现在跟你想到一起去了。”
“我真盼着能想到一起去。你说吧。”
“你想的是，如果有人猜得出古德森对那个外乡人说过什么话就好了。”
“一点没错。我觉得这是罪过，没脸见人。你呢？”
“我是过来人了。咱们在这儿搭个床吧；咱们得好好守着，守到明天早上银行金库开门，收了这只口袋……天哪，天哪——咱们要是没走错那步棋，该有多好！”
搭好了床，玛丽说：
“芝麻开门——那句话到底是怎么说的？我真想知道那句话是怎么说的？好吧，来；咱们该上床了。”
“睡觉？”
“不；想。”
“好吧，想。”
这时候，考克斯夫妇也打完了嘴仗，言归于好，他们上了床——想来想去，辗转反侧，烦躁不安，思量古德森究竟对那个走投无路的流浪汉说了一句什么话；那真是金口玉言哪，一句话就值四万块，还是现款。
镇子上的电报所那天晚上关门比平日晚，原因如下：考克斯报馆里的编辑主任是美联社的地方通讯员。他这个通讯员简直是挂名的，因为他一年发的稿子被社里采用超不过四次，多不过三十个字。可这一次不同。他把捕捉到的线索电告之后，马上就接到了回电：
将原委报来——点滴勿漏——一千二百字。
约的是一篇大稿子呀！编辑主任如约交了稿；于是，他成了全美国最风光的人。第二天吃早饭的时候，所有的美国人都在念叨“拒腐蚀的哈德莱堡”，从蒙特利尔到墨西哥湾，从阿拉斯加的冰天雪地到佛罗里达的柑桔园；千百万人都在谈论那个外乡人和他的钱袋子，都操心能不能找到那位应得这笔钱的人，都盼着快快看到这件事的后续报道——越快越好。
Chapter 2
Hadleyburg village woke up world-celebrated--astonished--happy-- vain. Vain beyond imagination. Its nineteen principal citizens and their wives went about shaking hands with each other, and beaming, and smiling, and congratulating, and saying THIS thing adds a new word to the dictionary--HADLEYBURG, synonym for INCORRUPTIBLE-- destined to live in dictionaries for ever! And the minor and unimportant citizens and their wives went around acting in much the same way. Everybody ran to the bank to see the gold-sack; and before noon grieved and envious crowds began to flock in from Brixton and all neighbouring towns; and that afternoon and next day reporters began to arrive from everywhere to verify the sack and its history and write the whole thing up anew, and make dashing free- hand pictures of the sack, and of Richards's house, and the bank, and the Presbyterian church, and the Baptist church, and the public square, and the town-hall where the test would be applied and the money delivered; and damnable portraits of the Richardses, and Pinkerton the banker, and Cox, and the foreman, and Reverend Burgess, and the postmaster--and even of Jack Halliday, who was the loafing, good-natured, no-account, irreverent fisherman, hunter, boys' friend, stray-dogs' friend, typical "Sam Lawson" of the town. The little mean, smirking, oily Pinkerton showed the sack to all comers, and rubbed his sleek palms together pleasantly, and enlarged upon the town's fine old reputation for honesty and upon this wonderful endorsement of it, and hoped and believed that the example would now spread far and wide over the American world, and be epoch- making in the matter of moral regeneration. And so on, and so on.
By the end of a week things had quieted down again; the wild intoxication of pride and joy had sobered to a soft, sweet, silent delight--a sort of deep, nameless, unutterable content. All faces bore a look of peaceful, holy happiness.
Then a change came. It was a gradual change; so gradual that its beginnings were hardly noticed; maybe were not noticed at all, except by Jack Halliday, who always noticed everything; and always made fun of it, too, no matter what it was. He began to throw out chaffing remarks about people not looking quite so happy as they did a day or two ago; and next he claimed that the new aspect was deepening to positive sadness; next, that it was taking on a sick look; and finally he said that everybody was become so moody, thoughtful, and absent-minded that he could rob the meanest man in town of a cent out of the bottom of his breeches pocket and not disturb his reverie.
At this stage--or at about this stage--a saying like this was dropped at bedtime--with a sigh, usually--by the head of each of the nineteen principal households:
"Ah, what COULD have been the remark that Goodson made?"
And straightway--with a shudder--came this, from the man's wife:
"Oh, DON'T! What horrible thing are you mulling in your mind? Put it away from you, for God's sake!"
But that question was wrung from those men again the next night--and got the same retort. But weaker.
And the third night the men uttered the question yet again--with anguish, and absently. This time--and the following night--the wives fidgeted feebly, and tried to say something. But didn't.
And the night after that they found their tongues and responded-- longingly:
"Oh, if we COULD only guess!"
Halliday's comments grew daily more and more sparklingly disagreeable and disparaging. He went diligently about, laughing at the town, individually and in mass. But his laugh was the only one left in the village: it fell upon a hollow and mournful vacancy and emptiness. Not even a smile was findable anywhere. Halliday carried a cigar-box around on a tripod, playing that it was a camera, and halted all passers and aimed the thing and said "Ready! --now look pleasant, please," but not even this capital joke could surprise the dreary faces into any softening.
So three weeks passed--one week was left. It was Saturday evening after supper. Instead of the aforetime Saturday-evening flutter and bustle and shopping and larking, the streets were empty and desolate. Richards and his old wife sat apart in their little parlour--miserable and thinking. This was become their evening habit now: the life-long habit which had preceded it, of reading, knitting, and contented chat, or receiving or paying neighbourly calls, was dead and gone and forgotten, ages ago--two or three weeks ago; nobody talked now, nobody read, nobody visited--the whole village sat at home, sighing, worrying, silent. Trying to guess out that remark.
The postman left a letter. Richards glanced listlessly at the superscription and the post-mark--unfamiliar, both--and tossed the letter on the table and resumed his might-have-beens and his hopeless dull miseries where he had left them off. Two or three hours later his wife got wearily up and was going away to bed without a good-night--custom now--but she stopped near the letter and eyed it awhile with a dead interest, then broke it open, and began to skim it over. Richards, sitting there with his chair tilted back against the wall and his chin between his knees, heard something fall. It was his wife. He sprang to her side, but she cried out:
"Leave me alone, I am too happy. Read the letter--read it!"
He did. He devoured it, his brain reeling. The letter was from a distant State, and it said:
"I am a stranger to you, but no matter: I have something to tell. I have just arrived home from Mexico, and learned about that episode. Of course you do not know who made that remark, but I know, and I am the only person living who does know. It was GOODSON. I knew him well, many years ago. I passed through your village that very night, and was his guest till the midnight train came along. I overheard him make that remark to the stranger in the dark--it was in Hale Alley. He and I talked of it the rest of the way home, and while smoking in his house. He mentioned many of your villagers in the course of his talk--most of them in a very uncomplimentary way, but two or three favourably: among these latter yourself. I say 'favourably'--nothing stronger. I remember his saying he did not actually LIKE any person in the town--not one; but that you--I THINK he said you--am almost sure--had done him a very great service once, possibly without knowing the full value of it, and he wished he had a fortune, he would leave it to you when he died, and a curse apiece for the rest of the citizens. Now, then, if it was you that did him that service, you are his legitimate heir, and entitled to the sack of gold. I know that I can trust to your honour and honesty, for in a citizen of Hadleyburg these virtues are an unfailing inheritance, and so I am going to reveal to you the remark, well satisfied that if you are not the right man you will seek and find the right one and see that poor Goodson's debt of gratitude for the service referred to is paid. This is the remark 'YOU ARE FAR FROM BEING A BAD MAN: GO, AND REFORM.'
"HOWARD L. STEPHENSON."
"Oh, Edward, the money is ours, and I am so grateful, OH, so grateful,--kiss me, dear, it's for ever since we kissed--and we needed it so--the money--and now you are free of Pinkerton and his bank, and nobody's slave any more; it seems to me I could fly for joy."
It was a happy half-hour that the couple spent there on the settee caressing each other; it was the old days come again--days that had begun with their courtship and lasted without a break till the stranger brought the deadly money. By-and-by the wife said:
"Oh, Edward, how lucky it was you did him that grand service, poor Goodson! I never liked him, but I love him now. And it was fine and beautiful of you never to mention it or brag about it." Then, with a touch of reproach, "But you ought to have told ME, Edward, you ought to have told your wife, you know."
"Well, I--er--well, Mary, you see--"
"Now stop hemming and hawing, and tell me about it, Edward. I always loved you, and now I'm proud of you. Everybody believes there was only one good generous soul in this village, and now it turns out that you-- Edward, why don't you tell me?"
"Well--er--er--Why, Mary, I can't!"
"You CAN'T? WHY can't you?"
"You see, he--well, he--he made me promise I wouldn't."
The wife looked him over, and said, very slowly:
"Made--you--promise? Edward, what do you tell me that for?"
"Mary, do you think I would lie?"
She was troubled and silent for a moment, then she laid her hand within his and said:
"No . . . no. We have wandered far enough from our bearings--God spare us that! In all your life you have never uttered a lie. But now--now that the foundations of things seem to be crumbling from under us, we--we--" She lost her voice for a moment, then said, brokenly, "Lead us not into temptation. . . I think you made the promise, Edward. Let it rest so. Let us keep away from that ground. Now--that is all gone by; let us he happy again; it is no time for clouds."
Edward found it something of an effort to comply, for his mind kept wandering--trying to remember what the service was that he had done Goodson.
The couple lay awake the most of the night, Mary happy and busy, Edward busy, but not so happy. Mary was planning what she would do with the money. Edward was trying to recall that service. At first his conscience was sore on account of the lie he had told Mary--if it was a lie. After much reflection--suppose it WAS a lie? What then? Was it such a great matter? Aren't we always ACTING lies? Then why not tell them? Look at Mary--look what she had done. While he was hurrying off on his honest errand, what was she doing? Lamenting because the papers hadn't been destroyed and the money kept. Is theft better than lying?
THAT point lost its sting--the lie dropped into the background and left comfort behind it. The next point came to the front: HAD he rendered that service? Well, here was Goodson's own evidence as reported in Stephenson's letter; there could be no better evidence than that--it was even PROOF that he had rendered it. Of course. So that point was settled. . . No, not quite. He recalled with a wince that this unknown Mr. Stephenson was just a trifle unsure as to whether the performer of it was Richards or some other--and, oh dear, he had put Richards on his honour! He must himself decide whither that money must go--and Mr. Stephenson was not doubting that if he was the wrong man he would go honourably and find the right one. Oh, it was odious to put a man in such a situation--ah, why couldn't Stephenson have left out that doubt? What did he want to intrude that for?
Further reflection. How did it happen that RICHARDS'S name remained in Stephenson's mind as indicating the right man, and not some other man's name? That looked good. Yes, that looked very good. In fact it went on looking better and better, straight along--until by-and- by it grew into positive PROOF. And then Richards put the matter at once out of his mind, for he had a private instinct that a proof once established is better left so.
He was feeling reasonably comfortable now, but there was still one other detail that kept pushing itself on his notice: of course he had done that service--that was settled; but what WAS that service? He must recall it--he would not go to sleep till he had recalled it; it would make his peace of mind perfect. And so he thought and thought. He thought of a dozen things--possible services, even probable services--but none of them seemed adequate, none of them seemed large enough, none of them seemed worth the money--worth the fortune Goodson had wished he could leave in his will. And besides, he couldn't remember having done them, anyway. Now, then--now, then--what KIND of a service would it be that would make a man so inordinately grateful? Ah--the saving of his soul! That must be it. Yes, he could remember, now, how he once set himself the task of converting Goodson, and laboured at it as much as--he was going to say three months; but upon closer examination it shrunk to a month, then to a week, then to a day, then to nothing. Yes, he remembered now, and with unwelcome vividness, that Goodson had told him to go to thunder and mind his own business--HE wasn't hankering to follow Hadleyburg to heaven!
So that solution was a failure--he hadn't saved Goodson's soul. Richards was discouraged. Then after a little came another idea: had he saved Goodson's property? No, that wouldn't do--he hadn't any. His life? That is it! Of course. Why, he might have thought of it before. This time he was on the right track, sure. His imagination-mill was hard at work in a minute, now.
Thereafter, during a stretch of two exhausting hours, he was busy saving Goodson's life. He saved it in all kinds of difficult and perilous ways. In every case he got it saved satisfactorily up to a certain point; then, just as he was beginning to get well persuaded that it had really happened, a troublesome detail would turn up which made the whole thing impossible. As in the matter of drowning, for instance. In that case he had swum out and tugged Goodson ashore in an unconscious state with a great crowd looking on and applauding, but when he had got it all thought out and was just beginning to remember all about it, a whole swarm of disqualifying details arrived on the ground: the town would have known of the circumstance, Mary would have known of it, it would glare like a limelight in his own memory instead of being an inconspicuous service which he had possibly rendered "without knowing its full value." And at this point he remembered that he couldn't swim anyway.
Ah--THERE was a point which he had been overlooking from the start: it had to be a service which he had rendered "possibly without knowing the full value of it." Why, really, that ought to be an easy hunt--much easier than those others. And sure enough, by-and- by he found it. Goodson, years and years ago, came near marrying a very sweet and pretty girl, named Nancy Hewitt, but in some way or other the match had been broken off; the girl died, Goodson remained a bachelor, and by-and-by became a soured one and a frank despiser of the human species. Soon after the girl's death the village found out, or thought it had found out, that she carried a spoonful of negro blood in her veins. Richards worked at these details a good while, and in the end he thought he remembered things concerning them which must have gotten mislaid in his memory through long neglect. He seemed to dimly remember that it was HE that found out about the negro blood; that it was he that told the village; that the village told Goodson where they got it; that he thus saved Goodson from marrying the tainted girl; that he had done him this great service "without knowing the full value of it," in fact without knowing that he WAS doing it; but that Goodson knew the value of it, and what a narrow escape he had had, and so went to his grave grateful to his benefactor and wishing he had a fortune to leave him. It was all clear and simple, now, and the more he went over it the more luminous and certain it grew; and at last, when he nestled to sleep, satisfied and happy, he remembered the whole thing just as if it had been yesterday. In fact, he dimly remembered Goodson's TELLING him his gratitude once. Meantime Mary had spent six thousand dollars on a new house for herself and a pair of slippers for her pastor, and then had fallen peacefully to rest.
That same Saturday evening the postman had delivered a letter to each of the other principal citizens--nineteen letters in all. No two of the envelopes were alike, and no two of the superscriptions were in the same hand, but the letters inside were just like each other in every detail but one. They were exact copies of the letter received by Richards--handwriting and all--and were all signed by Stephenson, but in place of Richards's name each receiver's own name appeared.
All night long eighteen principal citizens did what their caste- brother Richards was doing at the same time--they put in their energies trying to remember what notable service it was that they had unconsciously done Barclay Goodson. In no case was it a holiday job; still they succeeded.
And while they were at this work, which was difficult, their wives put in the night spending the money, which was easy. During that one night the nineteen wives spent an average of seven thousand dollars each out of the forty thousand in the sack--a hundred and thirty-three thousand altogether.
Next day there was a surprise for Jack Halliday. He noticed that the faces of the nineteen chief citizens and their wives bore that expression of peaceful and holy happiness again. He could not understand it, neither was he able to invent any remarks about it that could damage it or disturb it. And so it was his turn to be dissatisfied with life. His private guesses at the reasons for the happiness failed in all instances, upon examination. When he met Mrs. Wilcox and noticed the placid ecstasy in her face, he said to himself, "Her cat has had kittens"--and went and asked the cook; it was not so, the cook had detected the happiness, but did not know the cause. When Halliday found the duplicate ecstasy in the face of "Shadbelly" Billson (village nickname), he was sure some neighbour of Billson's had broken his leg, but inquiry showed that this had not happened. The subdued ecstasy in Gregory Yates's face could mean but one thing--he was a mother-in-law short; it was another mistake. "And Pinkerton--Pinkerton--he has collected ten cents that he thought he was going to lose." And so on, and so on. In some cases the guesses had to remain in doubt, in the others they proved distinct errors. In the end Halliday said to himself, "Anyway it roots up that there's nineteen Hadleyburg families temporarily in heaven: I don't know how it happened; I only know Providence is off duty to-day."
An architect and builder from the next State had lately ventured to set up a small business in this unpromising village, and his sign had now been hanging out a week. Not a customer yet; he was a discouraged man, and sorry he had come. But his weather changed suddenly now. First one and then another chief citizen's wife said to him privately:
"Come to my house Monday week--but say nothing about it for the present. We think of building."
He got eleven invitations that day. That night he wrote his daughter and broke off her match with her student. He said she could marry a mile higher than that.
Pinkerton the banker and two or three other well-to-do men planned country-seats--but waited. That kind don't count their chickens until they are hatched.
The Wilsons devised a grand new thing--a fancy-dress ball. They made no actual promises, but told all their acquaintanceship in confidence that they were thinking the matter over and thought they should give it--"and if we do, you will be invited, of course." People were surprised, and said, one to another, "Why, they are crazy, those poor Wilsons, they can't afford it." Several among the nineteen said privately to their husbands, "It is a good idea, we will keep still till their cheap thing is over, then WE will give one that will make it sick."
The days drifted along, and the bill of future squanderings rose higher and higher, wilder and wilder, more and more foolish and reckless. It began to look as if every member of the nineteen would not only spend his whole forty thousand dollars before receiving- day, but be actually in debt by the time he got the money. In some cases light-headed people did not stop with planning to spend, they really spent--on credit. They bought land, mortgages, farms, speculative stocks, fine clothes, horses, and various other things, paid down the bonus, and made themselves liable for the rest--at ten days. Presently the sober second thought came, and Halliday noticed that a ghastly anxiety was beginning to show up in a good many faces. Again he was puzzled, and didn't know what to make of it. "The Wilcox kittens aren't dead, for they weren't born; nobody's broken a leg; there's no shrinkage in mother-in-laws; NOTHING has happened--it is an insolvable mystery."
There was another puzzled man, too--the Rev. Mr. Burgess. For days, wherever he went, people seemed to follow him or to be watching out for him; and if he ever found himself in a retired spot, a member of the nineteen would be sure to appear, thrust an envelope privately into his hand, whisper "To be opened at the town-hall Friday evening," then vanish away like a guilty thing. He was expecting that there might be one claimant for the sack--doubtful, however, Goodson being dead--but it never occurred to him that all this crowd might be claimants. When the great Friday came at last, he found that he had nineteen envelopes.
 
哈德莱堡镇的人们一觉醒来已经名扬天下，他们先是大吃一惊，继而欢欣鼓舞，继而得意洋洋。得意之情难以言表。镇上十九位要人及其夫人们奔走相告，握手言欢，彼此道贺，大家都说这件事给词典里添了一个新词——哈德莱堡：义同“拒腐蚀”——这个词注定要在各大词典里万古流芳啦！次要而无足轻重的公民及其老婆们也到处乱跑，举动也大同小异。人人都跑到银行去看那只装着金子的口袋；还不到正午时分，就已经有郁郁寡欢、心怀嫉妒的人成群结队地从布里克斯顿和邻近各镇蜂拥而至。当天下午和第二天，记者们也从四面八方纷纷赶来，验明这只钱袋的正身及其来龙去脉，把整个故事重新包装，对钱袋作了即兴的描摹渲染，理查兹的家，银行，长老会教堂，浸礼会教堂，公共广场，以及将要用来核实身份、移交钱财的镇公所，也没有逃过记者们的生花妙笔；此外还给几个人物画了几幅怪模怪样的肖像，有理查兹夫妇，银行家平克顿，有考克斯，有报馆的编辑主任，还有伯杰斯牧师和邮电所所长——甚至还有杰克•哈里代。哈里代游手好闲，脾气不错，是个在镇子里排不上号的粗人，三天打鱼，两天晒网，他是孩子王，也是丧家犬们的朋友，是镇子上典型的“萨姆•劳森”①。其貌不扬的小个子平克顿皮笑肉不笑、油腔滑调地向所有来宾展示钱袋子，他乐颠颠地挂着一对细皮嫩肉的巴掌，渲染这个镇子源远流长的诚实美名以及这次无与伦比的例证，他希望并且相信这个范例将传播开去，传遍美洲，在重振世道人心方面起到划时代的作用。如此等等。
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①萨姆•劳森是以创作《汤姆叔叔的小屋》（Uncle Tom's Cabin）知名的美国作家斯陀夫人（Hdrriet Beecher Stowe）笔下的一个人物，他是一个知足常乐、嘴不饶人的懒汉。
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一个星期过后，一切又平静下来；如痴如狂的自豪和喜悦已经渐渐化作轻柔、甜蜜和无言的欣慰——是那种深沉隽永，说不清、道不明的心满意足。人人脸上都流露着平和而圣洁的幸福表情。
这时发生了一种变化。这是一种渐进的变化：因为变得非常慢，所以开始时很难察觉；也许大家根本就没有察觉，只有在什么事情里都能看出门道来的杰克•哈里代是个例外。无论什么事情，哈里代总能拿来开玩笑。他发现有些人看起来不像一两天以前那么高兴，就开始说风凉话；接着，他说这种新的现象正在向闷闷不乐的方向深化；后来他又说人家满脸都是晦气；最后，他说人人都变得怒气冲冲，满肚子心思，心不在焉了，就算他把手一直伸到镇子上最吝啬的人裤袋深处抠一分钱，也不会让他清醒过来。
在这个阶段——也许大约在这个阶段——那十九户要人的一家之长在临睡前差不多都要说一句这样的话——通常是先叹一口气，然后才说：
“唉，那个古德森到底说过一句什么话呢？”
男人的妻子紧接着——用发颤的声音说：
“嗨，别说了！你心里转什么念头呢？怪吓人的。看在主的份儿上，快别想了！”
可是，到第二天晚上，这些男人又把这个问题搬了出来——照样受到呵斥。不过呵斥的声音小了一点。
第三天晚上，男人们再念叨这个问题的时候——声音里透着苦闷和茫然。这一次——还有次日晚上——妻子们略微有点心烦意乱，她们都有话要说。可是她们都没有说出口来。
接下来的那个晚上，她们终于开了口，热切地应和着：
“唉，咱们要是能猜出来多好啊！”
一天天过去，哈里代的评论越来越肆无忌惮，越来越讨人嫌，越来越阴损了。他不辞辛劳地到处乱跑；取笑镇子上的人，有时候是一个个地挖苦，有时候又放在一起嘲笑。不过，全镇子里也只有他还能笑得出来：这笑声所到之处，尽是空旷而凄凉的荒漠。哪里都看不到一丝笑容。哈里代扛着一个三角架到处跑，上面放一个雪茄烟盒子，权当照相机；碰上过路的人就截住，把这玩艺儿对准他们说：“准备！——笑一笑，您哪。”可是，如此高明的玩笑也没能给那一张张阴沉的脸一个惊喜，让它们松弛一下。
三个星期就这样过去了——还剩下一个星期。那是星期六的晚上——晚饭已经吃过。如今的星期六没有了以往那种热热闹闹逛商店、开玩笑的场面，街面上空空荡荡，人迹稀少。理查兹和老伴在小客厅里东一个、西一个地坐着——愁眉不展，满肚子心事。这种情形已经成了他们晚间的习惯：从前他们守了一辈子的老习惯—— 看书，编织，随意聊天，或者是邻居们互相走动，这些习惯已经成为历史，被他们忘却好长时间了——也许已经有两三个星期了；现在没有人闲谈，没有人看书，也没有人串门——全镇子上的人都坐在家里唉声叹气，愁眉不展地发呆。都想猜到那句话。
邮递员送来了一封信。理查兹两眼无神地扫了一眼信封上的字和邮戳——没有一样面熟——他把信丢在桌子上，重新接上刚刚被打断的思路，忍受着无望而沉闷的苦恼，继续猜度那句金口玉言。两三个小时以后，他的妻子精疲力尽地站起来，没有道晚安就想去上床了——如今这已经司空见惯——可是，她走到那封信旁停下了脚步，没精打采地看了看，然后拆开信，从上到下扫了一遍。理查兹正呆坐着，翘起的椅子背顶着墙，下巴额埋在两腿当中；这时候他听见了东西倒地的声音。原来是他妻子。他赶快跑过去搀扶，不料她却大叫起来：
“别管我，我太高兴了。你快看信——看哪！”
他接过信来就看。一目十行地看完，他的脑子就像腾云驾雾一般。那封信是从很远的一个州寄来的，信里说：
我和你素不相识，不过这没有关系：我想告诉你一件事情。我刚从墨西哥回到家中，就听到了那条新闻。你当然不知道那句话是谁说的，可是我知道，在世的人当中只有我一个人知道。那人是古德森。多年以前，我很熟悉他。就在那天晚上，我路过你们那个镇子，坐半夜的火车离开以前，我一直在他那儿做客。他在暗处对外乡人说那句话的时候，我在旁边听见了——那是在赫尔胡同。当时，从去他家的路上，直到后来在他家抽烟的时候，他和我谈论的都是这件事。他在谈话中提到了很多你们镇子上的人——对大多数人贬得都很厉害，只对两三个人还算手下留情；这两三个人当中就有你。我说的是“手下留情”——仅此而已。我记得当时他讲到，说实在话，全镇上的人他没有一个喜欢的——一个都没有；不过说到你——我想他说的是你——这应该不会错——有一次帮过他一个大忙，也许你自己都不知道这个忙帮得有多大，他说他希望有一笔财产，临死的时候留给你，至于镇上的其他居民，留给他们的只有诅咒。如此说来，假如那个忙确实是你帮的，你就是他的合法继承人，就有权利得到那一袋金子。我知道我可以信赖你的良知和诚实，因为每一个哈德莱堡镇的公民都具有这些世代相传、从未湮没的天性，所以我现在就把那句话透露给你，我非常放心：如果你自己不应得这笔钱，一定会去找到应得的人，让可怜的古德森得以报答因受惠而久的人情。那句话是这样说的：“你决不是一个坏蛋：去吧，改了就好。”
霍华德•L•史蒂文森
“啊，爱德华，那钱是咱们的了。我真是太高兴了，噢，太高兴了——亲亲我，亲爱的，咱们有多少日子没亲过了——咱们正用得着——这笔钱——现在你可以甩开平克顿和他的银行了，再也不用给别人当奴才了。我高兴得简直要飞起来了。”
夫妻俩相互爱抚着在长靠椅上度过了半个小时的快乐时光；旧日的时光重又来临——那种时光从他们相爱就开始了，直到那个外乡人带来这笔该死的钱以后才被打断。过了一会儿，妻子说：
“啊，爱德华，当初帮他一个大忙真是你的福分，可怜的古德森！过去我从来不喜欢他，现在我倒喜欢上他了。做了这样的事你都没有说过，也不显摆，真不错，干得漂亮。”然后她又做了一点儿小小的批评：“不过你总该告诉我嘛，爱德华，你总该告诉自己的妻子呀。”
“这个，我——呢——这个，玛丽，你瞧——”
“别再这个那个的啦，跟我说说吧，爱德华。我一直是爱你的，现在更为你感到自豪。谁都相信这镇子上只有一个慷慨大方的好人，原来你也——爱德华，你怎么不告诉我？”
“这个——呢——呕——唉，玛丽，我不能说！”
“你不能说？怎么不能说？”
“你瞧，他——这个，他——他让我保证不说出去。”
妻子把他从上到下看了一遍，很慢很慢地说：
“让——你——保证？爱德华，你跟我说这话是什么意思？”
“玛丽，你想我会撒谎吗？”
她不出声地闷了一会儿，然后把自己的手放在丈夫的手心里说：
“不是……不是。咱们这是把话扯远了——上帝饶恕我们吧！你这一辈子从来没有撒过谎。可是现在——现在咱们脚底下的根基眼看就要站不住了，咱们就——咱们就——”她一时想不出词儿来，后来又断断续续地说：“别把咱们引到邪路上去——我想你是跟人家保证过，爱德华。那就算了吧。咱们不说这件事了。好吧——这件事就算过去了；咱们还是高高兴兴的，别自找麻烦了。”
听着妻子的话，爱德华有点儿跟不上，因为他总是心猿意马——他在使劲想到底给古德森帮过什么忙。
夫妻俩一夜都没怎么合眼，玛丽高高兴兴地忙着想心事；爱德华也忙着想，却不怎么高兴。玛丽思量怎么用这笔钱。爱德华使劲回忆自己对古德森的恩惠。刚开始，他还因为对玛丽说了假话——如果说那也算假话——有点儿惴惴不安。后来他经过再三思索——就算说的是假话，那又怎么样呢？这算什么大不了的事吗？咱们不是经常作假吗？既然假的能作，怎么就不能说呢？你看玛丽——看她都干了什么。他抓紧时间做老实事的时候，她做什么呢？她正在吃后悔药呢，后悔自己没有毁了那张字条，把钱昧下来！偷东西能比说假话好到哪里去？
这一点不再那么显眼了——撒谎的事退居后台，而且还留下了一点儿聊以自慰的东西。另一点却变得突出了：他真帮过人家的忙吗？你看，史蒂文森的信里说了，有古德森自己为证；再也没有比这更好的证明了——这简直是他自己提交的证书啊。确定无疑。因此这一点就没问题了——不，并不是毫无问题。他忐忑不安地回想起，帮忙的人究竟是理查兹，还是其他什么人，这位素不相识的史蒂文森先生并没有十分把握，——而且，哎呀，他还把这件事全都托付给理查兹了！理查兹只能自己来决定这笔钱应该归谁——假如理查兹不是那个该拿钱的人，他一定会胸怀坦荡地把该拿钱的人找出来，对此史蒂文森先生毫不怀疑。把人摆布到这种地步，多可恨哪——哎，史蒂文森难道就不能不留下这个疑点吗！他为什么要多此一举呢？
再往深处想想。是理查兹、而不是别人的名字留在了史蒂文森的印象中，让他觉得那个该拿钱的人就是理查兹，这到底是怎么回事呢？这一点感觉不错。是的，这一点感觉很好。说真的，他越往下想，这种感觉就越好——直到这种感觉渐渐成为实实在在的证据。于是理查兹马上把这个问题放到一旁，不去想它，因为他有一种直觉：证据一旦成立，最好不要再去纠缠。
这样一来，他理所当然地放宽了心，可是还有一件琐事却老来干扰他的注意力：他当然帮过人家的忙——这一点已经成立了；可到底帮过什么忙呢？他必须想出来 ——这件事不想出来他就不能去睡觉；只有想出来才能让他心地坦然。于是他想啊想啊。他想到了十多件事情——从可能帮过的忙，直到很可能帮过的忙——可是这些事情好像没有一件够资格，没有一件够分量，没有一件能值那么多钱——值得古德森大亨盼着能立遗嘱给他留下一笔财产。这还不算，他根本就想不起自己曾经干过这些事。那么，这个——那么，这个——究竟要帮一个什么样的忙，才能让一个人感激不尽呢？噢——拯救他的灵魂！一定是这件事。对，他现在想起来了：当初他曾经自告奋勇去劝古德森改邪归正，苦苦地劝了他足有——他正想说劝了他足有三个月；可是经过慎重考虑，还是削减为一个月，然后又削减为一个星期，削减成一天，最后减得一点不剩了。是啊，他现在想起来了，那个场面不大好受，可是却历历在目，古德森当时让他滚蛋，少管闲事——他可不跟在哈德莱堡的屁股后面上天堂！
这条路走不通——他并没有拯救过古德森的灵魂。理查兹泄了气。稍停，又一个念头冒了出来：他挽救过古德森的财产吗？不行，这办不到——他是个穷光蛋。救过他的命？对呀。正是。哎呀，他早就该想到这一点了。这一次他总算走对了路，毫无疑问。顷刻之间，他的想象机器就使劲转了起来。
在此后的整整两个小时里，他呕心沥血，忙于拯救古德森的性命。他尝试着历尽各种艰险救古德森一命。每次救命行动都推进到了一个功德圆满的地步；就在他开始深信这一行动确有其事的时候，总会冒出一个细节来捣乱，把整个事情都搅成无稽之谈。就拿救落水的古德森这个例子来说。这一次他劈波斩浪向前冲，把不省人事的古德森拖上岸来，四周还有一大群人围观喝彩；可是，正当他已经把整个过程想好，开始把这一切铭记在心的时候，一大堆拆台的细节却纷至沓来：这种事情镇上的人们总得知道吧，玛丽总得知道吧；自己的记忆里如果有这种事情，也会像打着灯笼一样照得清清楚楚，这又不是那种不足挂齿的小事，怎么会做完还“不知道帮了人家多大的忙”呢。还有，到了这个地步，他才想起来：自己还不会凫水呢。
啊——有一点他从开始就忽略了：这件事必须是他已经帮了别人的忙却“不知道这忙帮得究竟有多大”。唉，真是的，要找这样的事应该是不费吹灰之力嘛——比找其他事情容易多了。果然如此，不久他就想出了一件。好多好多年以前，古德森眼看就要和一个名叫南茜•体维特的非常漂亮的甜妞成亲，但是出于种种原因，这桩婚事后来还是吹了；那姑娘死了，古德森依然是个单身汉，而且慢慢变成了一个尖酸刻薄瞧谁都不顺眼的家伙。那姑娘死后不久，镇子上的人就发现，或是自以为早就知道：她有一点点黑人血统。理查兹把各种细枝末节想了半天，感到他终于想起了一些与此有关的事情，这些事情一定是因为好多年无暇顾及，已经从记忆中消失了。他似乎隐隐约约记得，当初就是他自己发现姑娘沾点儿黑人血统，也是他把这个消息告诉了镇子上的人，镇子上的人也告诉了古德森他们是从哪里得来的消息；他就如此这般地挽救了古德森，使他免于和那个血统不纯的姑娘结婚。他帮了古德森一个大忙，却“不知道这个忙帮得有多大”，说实在的，他根本就不知道是在帮人家的忙，可是古德森明白帮这个忙的价值，也明白他是怎样侥幸逃脱的，于是才在临死前对帮他忙的人千恩万谢，巴不得能留给他一笔财产。现在全都弄清楚了，事情再简单不过，他越想这件事就越明白、越实在；最后，当他舒舒服服地躺下，心满意足、高高兴兴准备睡觉的时候，这件事在他的记忆中就像是昨天刚刚发生的一样。说真的，他还能隐约记得古德森有一次对他表示过谢意。就在理查兹思考的这段时间里，玛丽已经为她自己花了六千元买新房子，还给她的牧师买了一双拖鞋，此刻她安安稳稳地睡着了。
就在这个星期六的晚上，邮递员给镇子上的其他各位大户分别送去了一封信——一共送了十九封。每个信封都不一样，信封上的笔迹各不相同，可是里面的信除了一个地方之外分毫不差。每封信都和理查兹收到的那一封如出一辙——笔迹和其他一切——所有信的落款都是史蒂文森，只是在有理查兹名字的地方换上了其他收信人的名字。
整整一夜，那十八位本镇大户在同样的时间里做了与他们同命相连的理查兹做的同一件事——他们集中精力，想记起他们曾在无意中给巴克利•古德森帮过什么忙。无论对谁来说，这都不是、桩轻而易举的工作；然而他们都成功了。
在他们从事这项艰苦工作的同时，他们的妻子却用了一夜的时间来轻轻松松地花钱。一夜之间，十九位太太平均每人把那只口袋里的四万块钱花了七千块——加起来一共是十三万三千块钱。
第二天杰克•哈里代大吃一惊。他看出镇上的十九位要人及其夫人脸上重新呈现出安详圣洁的快乐神情。对此他不光难以理解，也想不出词来消除或者扰乱这种情绪。现在该轮到他对生活感到不满了。他暗自对这种快乐的起因作了诸多猜测，然而一经推敲，没有一条能站得住脚。他碰见威尔科克斯太太的时候，看见她那心醉神迷的样子，就想道：“她家的猫生了小猫咪了”——去问她家的厨子：结果并无此事。厨子也发觉了这四喜气，却不知道喜从何来。哈里代发现“老实人”（镇上人送的外号）比尔逊脸上也有心醉神迷的表情，就断定比尔逊的哪一家邻居摔断了腿，但是调查表明，此事也未曾发生。格里高利•耶茨强忍着得意忘形只可能有一种原因——他的丈母娘死了：结果又猜错了。“那么平克顿——平克顿——他一定是要回来一角钱的老账，这笔钱他本来以为没有盼头了。”如此等等。有的猜测只能存疑，有些则业已证明是大错特错。最后，哈里代自言自语地说：“不管怎么样，眼下哈德莱堡有十九家一步登天了。我还不清楚这件事的前因后果，我只知道上帝今天不值班。”
有一位邻州的设计师兼建筑商近日来到这个前景暗淡的镇子，冒险办了一家小公司，挂牌已经有一个星期了，还没有一个顾客上门。这人垂头丧气，后悔他不该来。谁料到突然间云开雾散。那些小镇大户的太太们一个接一个来找他，悄悄地说：
“下星期一到我们家来——不过这件事你先别声张。我们正打算盖房子哪。”
这一天他接到了十一家的邀请。当天晚上他给女儿写信，废了女儿和她一个学生的婚事。他说，她能找到一个比那小子好一万倍的。
银行家平克顿和其他两三位富家汉子筹划着盖乡村别墅——不过他们要先等等再说。这种人是不见兔子不放鹰的。
威尔逊夫妇策划了一个新派盛会——一场化妆舞会。他们并没有真地邀请客人，只是秘而不宣地告诉所有的亲戚朋友，他们正在考虑这件事，认为应该举办这场舞会 ——“只要我们办舞会，当然会请你啦。”大家都出乎意料，议论纷纷：“嘿，他们准是疯了吧，威尔逊家这对穷鬼哪儿办得起舞会呀。”十九家中有几家的太太私下对他们的丈夫说：“这倒是个好主意：我们先别声张，等到他们那个穷会完了，我们自己再来办一个，让他们的脸没处放。”
时光流逝，预算开销也水涨船高，越来越没谱，越来越愚蠢，越来越无所顾忌了。现在看来，好像这十九家中的任何一家在进账日之前不但要花光那四万块钱，而且还真的要在那笔款子到手的时候借债呢。有几户头脑简单的不满足于纸上谈兵，竟然真的花起钱来了——靠赊账。他们买地，抵押产业，买进农场，做股票投机生意，买漂亮衣服，买马，买各种各样的东西，先用现金付了小头，剩下的大头定期付清——以十天为限。没过多久，这些人三思之后开始清醒，于是哈里代注意到一种可怕的忧虑爬上了很多人的脸庞。他又糊涂了，不明白他们又忧从何来。“不是威尔科克斯家的猫咪死了，因为它们本来就没有生出来；没有人摔断腿；丈母娘的队伍没有减员；什么事也没有发生——这真是个猜不透的问葫芦。”
还有一个人百思不得其解——这就是伯杰斯牧师。近来他无论走到哪里，不是有人跟着他，就是有人正在找他；只要他走到一个僻静的地方，那十九家当中就肯定会有一家的人出现，偷偷把一个信封塞到他手里，再加上一句耳语：“星期五晚上在镇公所拆开，”然后就做贼心虚似地溜走了。一他原来猜想也许会有一个人申领那只钱袋——也说不定没有，毕竟古德森已经死了，——可是他从来没想过会有这么多人来申领。等到星期五这个伟大的日子终于到来时，他已经收到了十九个信封。
Chapter 3
The town-hall had never looked finer. The platform at the end of it was backed by a showy draping of flags; at intervals along the walls were festoons of flags; the gallery fronts were clothed in flags; the supporting columns were swathed in flags; all this was to impress the stranger, for he would be there in considerable force, and in a large degree he would be connected with the press. The house was full. The 412 fixed seats were occupied; also the 68 extra chairs which had been packed into the aisles; the steps of the platform were occupied; some distinguished strangers were given seats on the platform; at the horseshoe of tables which fenced the front and sides of the platform sat a strong force of special correspondents who had come from everywhere. It was the best- dressed house the town had ever produced. There were some tolerably expensive toilets there, and in several cases the ladies who wore them had the look of being unfamiliar with that kind of clothes. At least the town thought they had that look, but the notion could have arisen from the town's knowledge of the fact that these ladies had never inhabited such clothes before.
The gold-sack stood on a little table at the front of the platform where all the house could see it. The bulk of the house gazed at it with a burning interest, a mouth-watering interest, a wistful and pathetic interest; a minority of nineteen couples gazed at it tenderly, lovingly, proprietarily, and the male half of this minority kept saying over to themselves the moving little impromptu speeches of thankfulness for the audience's applause and congratulations which they were presently going to get up and deliver. Every now and then one of these got a piece of paper out of his vest pocket and privately glanced at it to refresh his memory.
Of course there was a buzz of conversation going on--there always is; but at last, when the Rev. Mr. Burgess rose and laid his hand on the sack, he could hear his microbes gnaw, the place was so still. He related the curious history of the sack, then went on to speak in warm terms of Hadleyburg's old and well-earned reputation for spotless honesty, and of the town's just pride in this reputation. He said that this reputation was a treasure of priceless value; that under Providence its value had now become inestimably enhanced, for the recent episode had spread this fame far and wide, and thus had focussed the eyes of the American world upon this village, and made its name for all time, as he hoped and believed, a synonym for commercial incorruptibility. [Applause.] "And who is to be the guardian of this noble fame--the community as a whole? No! The responsibility is individual, not communal. From this day forth each and every one of you is in his own person its special guardian, and individually responsible that no harm shall come to it. Do you- -does each of you--accept this great trust? [Tumultuous assent.] Then all is well. Transmit it to your children and to your children's children. To-day your purity is beyond reproach--see to it that it shall remain so. To-day there is not a person in your community who could be beguiled to touch a penny not his own--see to it that you abide in this grace. ["We will! we will!"] This is not the place to make comparisons between ourselves and other communities--some of them ungracious towards us; they have their ways, we have ours; let us be content. [Applause.] I am done. Under my hand, my friends, rests a stranger's eloquent recognition of what we are; through him the world will always henceforth know what we are. We do not know who he is, but in your name I utter your gratitude, and ask you to raise your voices in indorsement."
The house rose in a body and made the walls quake with the thunders of its thankfulness for the space of a long minute. Then it sat down, and Mr. Burgess took an envelope out of his pocket. The house held its breath while he slit the envelope open and took from it a slip of paper. He read its contents--slowly and impressively--the audience listening with tranced attention to this magic document, each of whose words stood for an ingot of gold:
"'The remark which I made to the distressed stranger was this: "You are very far from being a bad man; go, and reform."'" Then he continued:- "We shall know in a moment now whether the remark here quoted corresponds with the one concealed in the sack; and if that shall prove to be so--and it undoubtedly will--this sack of gold belongs to a fellow-citizen who will henceforth stand before the nation as the symbol of the special virtue which has made our town famous throughout the land--Mr. Billson!"
The house had gotten itself all ready to burst into the proper tornado of applause; but instead of doing it, it seemed stricken with a paralysis; there was a deep hush for a moment or two, then a wave of whispered murmurs swept the place--of about this tenor: "BILLSON! oh, come, this is TOO thin! Twenty dollars to a stranger- -or ANYBODY--BILLSON! Tell it to the marines!" And now at this point the house caught its breath all of a sudden in a new access of astonishment, for it discovered that whereas in one part of the hall Deacon Billson was standing up with his head weekly bowed, in another part of it Lawyer Wilson was doing the same. There was a wondering silence now for a while. Everybody was puzzled, and nineteen couples were surprised and indignant.
Billson and Wilson turned and stared at each other. Billson asked, bitingly:
"Why do YOU rise, Mr. Wilson?"
"Because I have a right to. Perhaps you will be good enough to explain to the house why YOU rise."
"With great pleasure. Because I wrote that paper."
"It is an impudent falsity! I wrote it myself."
It was Burgess's turn to be paralysed. He stood looking vacantly at first one of the men and then the other, and did not seem to know what to do. The house was stupefied. Lawyer Wilson spoke up now, and said:
"I ask the Chair to read the name signed to that paper."
That brought the Chair to itself, and it read out the name:
"John Wharton BILLSON."
"There!" shouted Billson, "what have you got to say for yourself now? And what kind of apology are you going to make to me and to this insulted house for the imposture which you have attempted to play here?"
"No apologies are due, sir; and as for the rest of it, I publicly charge you with pilfering my note from Mr. Burgess and substituting a copy of it signed with your own name. There is no other way by which you could have gotten hold of the test-remark; I alone, of living men, possessed the secret of its wording."
There was likely to be a scandalous state of things if this went on; everybody noticed with distress that the shorthand scribes were scribbling like mad; many people were crying "Chair, chair! Order! order!" Burgess rapped with his gavel, and said:
"Let us not forget the proprieties due. There has evidently been a mistake somewhere, but surely that is all. If Mr. Wilson gave me an envelope--and I remember now that he did--I still have it."
He took one out of his pocket, opened it, glanced at it, looked surprised and worried, and stood silent a few moments. Then he waved his hand in a wandering and mechanical way, and made an effort or two to say something, then gave it up, despondently. Several voices cried out:
"Read it! read it! What is it?"
So he began, in a dazed and sleep-walker fashion:
"'The remark which I made to the unhappy stranger was this: "You are far from being a bad man. [The house gazed at him marvelling.] Go, and reform."' [Murmurs: "Amazing! what can this mean?"] This one," said the Chair, "is signed Thurlow G. Wilson."
"There!" cried Wilson, "I reckon that settles it! I knew perfectly well my note was purloined."
"Purloined!" retorted Billson. "I'll let you know that neither you nor any man of your kidney must venture to--"
The Chair: "Order, gentlemen, order! Take your seats, both of you, please."
They obeyed, shaking their heads and grumbling angrily. The house was profoundly puzzled; it did not know what to do with this curious emergency. Presently Thompson got up. Thompson was the hatter. He would have liked to be a Nineteener; but such was not for him; his stock of hats was not considerable enough for the position. He said:
"Mr. Chairman, if I may be permitted to make a suggestion, can both of these gentlemen be right? I put it to you, sir, can both have happened to say the very same words to the stranger? It seems to me--"
The tanner got up and interrupted him. The tanner was a disgruntled man; he believed himself entitled to be a Nineteener, but he couldn't get recognition. It made him a little unpleasant in his ways and speech. Said he:
"Sho, THAT'S not the point! THAT could happen--twice in a hundred years--but not the other thing. NEITHER of them gave the twenty dollars!" [A ripple of applause.]
Billson. "I did!"
Wilson. "I did!"
Then each accused the other of pilfering.
The Chair. "Order! Sit down, if you please--both of you. Neither of the notes has been out of my possession at any moment."
A Voice. "Good--that settles THAT!"
The Tanner. "Mr. Chairman, one thing is now plain: one of these men has been eavesdropping under the other one's bed, and filching family secrets. If it is not unparliamentary to suggest it, I will remark that both are equal to it. [The Chair. "Order! order!"] I withdraw the remark, sir, and will confine myself to suggesting that IF one of them has overheard the other reveal the test-remark to his wife, we shall catch him now."
A Voice. "How?"
The Tanner. "Easily. The two have not quoted the remark in exactly the same words. You would have noticed that, if there hadn't been a considerable stretch of time and an exciting quarrel inserted between the two readings."
A Voice. "Name the difference."
The Tanner. "The word VERY is in Billson's note, and not in the other."
Many Voices. "That's so--he's right!"
The Tanner. "And so, if the Chair will examine the test-remark in the sack, we shall know which of these two frauds--[The Chair. "Order!"]--which of these two adventurers--[The Chair. "Order! order!"]--which of these two gentlemen--[laughter and applause]--is entitled to wear the belt as being the first dishonest blatherskite ever bred in this town--which he has dishonoured, and which will be a sultry place for him from now out!" [Vigorous applause.]
Many Voices. "Open it!--open the sack!"
Mr. Burgess made a slit in the sack, slid his hand in, and brought out an envelope. In it were a couple of folded notes. He said:
"One of these is marked, 'Not to be examined until all written communications which have been addressed to the Chair--if any--shall have been read.' The other is marked 'THE TEST.' Allow me. It is worded--to wit:
"'I do not require that the first half of the remark which was made to me by my benefactor shall be quoted with exactness, for it was not striking, and could be forgotten; but its closing fifteen words are quite striking, and I think easily rememberable; unless THESE shall be accurately reproduced, let the applicant be regarded as an impostor. My benefactor began by saying he seldom gave advice to anyone, but that it always bore the hallmark of high value when he did give it. Then he said this--and it has never faded from my memory: 'YOU ARE FAR FROM BEING A BAD MAN- ''"
Fifty Voices. "That settles it--the money's Wilson's! Wilson! Wilson! Speech! Speech!"
People jumped up and crowded around Wilson, wringing his hand and congratulating fervently--meantime the Chair was hammering with the gavel and shouting:
"Order, gentlemen! Order! Order! Let me finish reading, please." When quiet was restored, the reading was resumed--as follows:
"'GO, AND REFORM--OR, MARK MY WORDS--SOME DAY, FOR YOUR SINS YOU WILL DIE AND GO TO HELL OR HADLEYBURG--TRY AND MAKE IT THE FORMER.'"
A ghastly silence followed. First an angry cloud began to settle darkly upon the faces of the citizenship; after a pause the cloud began to rise, and a tickled expression tried to take its place; tried so hard that it was only kept under with great and painful difficulty; the reporters, the Brixtonites, and other strangers bent their heads down and shielded their faces with their hands, and managed to hold in by main strength and heroic courtesy. At this most inopportune time burst upon the stillness the roar of a solitary voice--Jack Halliday's:
"THAT'S got the hall-mark on it!"
Then the house let go, strangers and all. Even Mr. Burgess's gravity broke down presently, then the audience considered itself officially absolved from all restraint, and it made the most of its privilege. It was a good long laugh, and a tempestuously wholehearted one, but it ceased at last--long enough for Mr. Burgess to try to resume, and for the people to get their eyes partially wiped; then it broke out again, and afterward yet again; then at last Burgess was able to get out these serious words:
"It is useless to try to disguise the fact--we find ourselves in the presence of a matter of grave import. It involves the honour of your town--it strikes at the town's good name. The difference of a single word between the test-remarks offered by Mr. Wilson and Mr. Billson was itself a serious thing, since it indicated that one or the other of these gentlemen had committed a theft--"
The two men were sitting limp, nerveless, crushed; but at these words both were electrified into movement, and started to get up.
"Sit down!" said the Chair, sharply, and they obeyed. "That, as I have said, was a serious thing. And it was--but for only one of them. But the matter has become graver; for the honour of BOTH is now in formidable peril. Shall I go even further, and say in inextricable peril? BOTH left out the crucial fifteen words." He paused. During several moments he allowed the pervading stillness to gather and deepen its impressive effects, then added: "There would seem to be but one way whereby this could happen. I ask these gentlemen--Was there COLLUSION?--AGREEMENT?"
A low murmur sifted through the house; its import was, "He's got them both."
Billson was not used to emergencies; he sat in a helpless collapse. But Wilson was a lawyer. He struggled to his feet, pale and worried, and said:
"I ask the indulgence of the house while I explain this most painful matter. I am sorry to say what I am about to say, since it must inflict irreparable injury upon Mr. Billson, whom I have always esteemed and respected until now, and in whose invulnerability to temptation I entirely believed--as did you all. But for the preservation of my own honour I must speak--and with frankness. I confess with shame--and I now beseech your pardon for it--that I said to the ruined stranger all of the words contained in the test- remark, including the disparaging fifteen. [Sensation.] When the late publication was made I recalled them, and I resolved to claim the sack of coin, for by every right I was entitled to it. Now I will ask you to consider this point, and weigh it well; that stranger's gratitude to me that night knew no bounds; he said himself that he could find no words for it that were adequate, and that if he should ever be able he would repay me a thousandfold. Now, then, I ask you this; could I expect--could I believe--could I even remotely imagine--that, feeling as he did, he would do so ungrateful a thing as to add those quite unnecessary fifteen words to his test?--set a trap for me?--expose me as a slanderer of my own town before my own people assembled in a public hall? It was preposterous; it was impossible. His test would contain only the kindly opening clause of my remark. Of that I had no shadow of doubt. You would have thought as I did. You would not have expected a base betrayal from one whom you had befriended and against whom you had committed no offence. And so with perfect confidence, perfect trust, I wrote on a piece of paper the opening words--ending with "Go, and reform," --and signed it. When I was about to put it in an envelope I was called into my back office, and without thinking I left the paper lying open on my desk." He stopped, turned his head slowly toward Billson, waited a moment, then added: "I ask you to note this; when I returned, a little latter, Mr. Billson was retiring by my street door." [Sensation.]
In a moment Billson was on his feet and shouting:
"It's a lie! It's an infamous lie!"
The Chair. "Be seated, sir! Mr. Wilson has the floor."
Billson's friends pulled him into his seat and quieted him, and Wilson went on:
"Those are the simple facts. My note was now lying in a different place on the table from where I had left it. I noticed that, but attached no importance to it, thinking a draught had blown it there. That Mr. Billson would read a private paper was a thing which could not occur to me; he was an honourable man, and he would be above that. If you will allow me to say it, I think his extra word 'VERY' stands explained: it is attributable to a defect of memory. I was the only man in the world who could furnish here any detail of the test-mark--by HONOURABLE means. I have finished."
There is nothing in the world like a persuasive speech to fuddle the mental apparatus and upset the convictions and debauch the emotions of an audience not practised in the tricks and delusions of oratory. Wilson sat down victorious. The house submerged him in tides of approving applause; friends swarmed to him and shook him by the hand and congratulated him, and Billson was shouted down and not allowed to say a word. The Chair hammered and hammered with its gavel, and kept shouting:
"But let us proceed, gentlemen, let us proceed!"
At last there was a measurable degree of quiet, and the hatter said:
"But what is there to proceed with, sir, but to deliver the money?"
Voices. "That's it! That's it! Come forward, Wilson!"
The Hatter. "I move three cheers for Mr. Wilson, Symbol of the special virtue which--"
The cheers burst forth before he could finish; and in the midst of them--and in the midst of the clamour of the gavel also--some enthusiasts mounted Wilson on a big friend's shoulder and were going to fetch him in triumph to the platform. The Chair's voice now rose above the noise:
"Order! To your places! You forget that there is still a document to be read." When quiet had been restored he took up the document, and was going to read it, but laid it down again saying "I forgot; this is not to be read until all written communications received by me have first been read." He took an envelope out of his pocket, removed its enclosure, glanced at it--seemed astonished--held it out and gazed at it--stared at it.
Twenty or thirty voices cried out
"What is it? Read it! read it!"
And he did--slowly, and wondering:
"'The remark which I made to the stranger--[Voices. "Hello! how's this?"]--was this: 'You are far from being a bad man. [Voices. "Great Scott!"] Go, and reform.'" [Voice. "Oh, saw my leg off!"] Signed by Mr. Pinkerton the banker."
The pandemonium of delight which turned itself loose now was of a sort to make the judicious weep. Those whose withers were unwrung laughed till the tears ran down; the reporters, in throes of laughter, set down disordered pot-hooks which would never in the world be decipherable; and a sleeping dog jumped up scared out of its wits, and barked itself crazy at the turmoil. All manner of cries were scattered through the din: "We're getting rich--TWO Symbols of Incorruptibility!--without counting Billson!" "THREE!-- count Shadbelly in--we can't have too many!" "All right--Billson's elected!" "Alas, poor Wilson! victim of TWO thieves!"
A Powerful Voice. "Silence! The Chair's fished up something more out of its pocket."
Voices. "Hurrah! Is it something fresh? Read it! read! read!"
The Chair [reading]. "'The remark which I made,' etc. 'You are far from being a bad man. Go,' etc. Signed, 'Gregory Yates.'"
Tornado of Voices. "Four Symbols!" "'Rah for Yates!" "Fish again!"
The house was in a roaring humour now, and ready to get all the fun out of the occasion that might be in it. Several Nineteeners, looking pale and distressed, got up and began to work their way towards the aisles, but a score of shouts went up:
"The doors, the doors--close the doors; no Incorruptible shall leave this place! Sit down, everybody!" The mandate was obeyed.
"Fish again! Read! read!"
The Chair fished again, and once more the familiar words began to fall from its lips--"'You are far from being a bad man--'"
"Name! name! What's his name?"
"'L. Ingoldsby Sargent.'"
"Five elected! Pile up the Symbols! Go on, go on!"
"'You are far from being a bad--'"
"Name! name!"
"'Nicholas Whitworth.'"
"Hooray! hooray! it's a symbolical day!"
Somebody wailed in, and began to sing this rhyme (leaving out "it's") to the lovely "Mikado" tune of "When a man's afraid of a beautiful maid;" the audience joined in, with joy; then, just in time, somebody contributed another line -
"And don't you this forget--"
The house roared it out. A third line was at once furnished -
"Corruptibles far from Hadleyburg are--"
The house roared that one too. As the last note died, Jack Halliday's voice rose high and clear, freighted with a final line -
"But the Symbols are here, you bet!"
That was sung, with booming enthusiasm. Then the happy house started in at the beginning and sang the four lines through twice, with immense swing and dash, and finished up with a crashing three- times-three and a tiger for "Hadleyburg the Incorruptible and all Symbols of it which we shall find worthy to receive the hall-mark to-night."
Then the shoutings at the Chair began again, all over the place:
"Go on! go on! Read! read some more! Read all you've got!"
"That's it--go on! We are winning eternal celebrity!"
A dozen men got up now and began to protest. They said that this farce was the work of some abandoned joker, and was an insult to the whole community. Without a doubt these signatures were all forgeries -
"Sit down! sit down! Shut up! You are confessing. We'll find your names in the lot."
"Mr. Chairman, how many of those envelopes have you got?"
The Chair counted.
"Together with those that have been already examined, there are nineteen."
A storm of derisive applause broke out.
"Perhaps they all contain the secret. I move that you open them all and read every signature that is attached to a note of that sort-- and read also the first eight words of the note."
"Second the motion!"
It was put and carried--uproariously. Then poor old Richards got up, and his wife rose and stood at his side. Her head was bent down, so that none might see that she was crying. Her husband gave her his arm, and so supporting her, he began to speak in a quavering voice:
"My friends, you have known us two--Mary and me--all our lives, and I think you have liked us and respected us--"
The Chair interrupted him:
"Allow me. It is quite true--that which you are saying, Mr. Richards; this town DOES know you two; it DOES like you; it DOES respect you; more--it honours you and LOVES you--"
Halliday's voice rang out:
"That's the hall-marked truth, too! If the Chair is right, let the house speak up and say it. Rise! Now, then--hip! hip! hip!--all together!"
The house rose in mass, faced toward the old couple eagerly, filled the air with a snow-storm of waving handkerchiefs, and delivered the cheers with all its affectionate heart.
The Chair then continued:
"What I was going to say is this: We know your good heart, Mr. Richards, but this is not a time for the exercise of charity toward offenders. [Shouts of "Right! right!"] I see your generous purpose in your face, but I cannot allow you to plead for these men--"
"But I was going to--"
"Please take your seat, Mr. Richards. We must examine the rest of these notes--simple fairness to the men who have already been exposed requires this. As soon as that has been done--I give you my word for this--you shall he heard."
Many voices. "Right!--the Chair is right--no interruption can be permitted at this stage! Go on!--the names! the names!--according to the terms of the motion!"
The old couple sat reluctantly down, and the husband whispered to the wife, "It is pitifully hard to have to wait; the shame will be greater than ever when they find we were only going to plead for OURSELVES."
Straightway the jollity broke loose again with the reading of the names.
"'You are far from being a bad man--' Signature, 'Robert J. Titmarsh.'"
'"You are far from being a bad man--' Signature, 'Eliphalet Weeks.'"
"'You are far from being a bad man--' Signature, 'Oscar B. Wilder.'"
At this point the house lit upon the idea of taking the eight words out of the Chairman's hands. He was not unthankful for that. Thenceforward he held up each note in its turn and waited. The house droned out the eight words in a massed and measured and musical deep volume of sound (with a daringly close resemblance to a well-known church chant)--"You are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-a-d man." Then the Chair said, "Signature, 'Archibald Wilcox.'" And so on, and so on, name after name, and everybody had an increasingly and gloriously good time except the wretched Nineteen. Now and then, when a particularly shining name was called, the house made the Chair wait while it chanted the whole of the test-remark from the beginning to the closing words, "And go to hell or Hadleyburg-- try and make it the for-or-m-e-r!" and in these special cases they added a grand and agonised and imposing "A-a-a-a-MEN!"
The list dwindled, dwindled, dwindled, poor old Richards keeping tally of the count, wincing when a name resembling his own was pronounced, and waiting in miserable suspense for the time to come when it would be his humiliating privilege to rise with Mary and finish his plea, which he was intending to word thus: ". . . for until now we have never done any wrong thing, but have gone our humble way unreproached. We are very poor, we are old, and, have no chick nor child to help us; we were sorely tempted, and we fell. It was my purpose when I got up before to make confession and beg that my name might not be read out in this public place, for it seemed to us that we could not bear it; but I was prevented. It was just; it was our place to suffer with the rest. It has been hard for us. It is the first time we have ever heard our name fall from any one's lips--sullied. Be merciful--for the sake or the better days; make our shame as light to bear as in your charity you can." At this point in his reverie Mary nudged him, perceiving that his mind was absent. The house was chanting, "You are f-a-r," etc.
"Be ready," Mary whispered. "Your name comes now; he has read eighteen."
The chant ended.
"Next! next! next!" came volleying from all over the house.
Burgess put his hand into his pocket. The old couple, trembling, began to rise. Burgess fumbled a moment, then said:
"I find I have read them all."
Faint with joy and surprise, the couple sank into their seats, and Mary whispered:
"Oh, bless God, we are saved!--he has lost ours--I wouldn't give this for a hundred of those sacks!"
The house burst out with its "Mikado" travesty, and sang it three times with ever-increasing enthusiasm, rising to its feet when it reached for the third time the closing line -
"But the Symbols are here, you bet!"
and finishing up with cheers and a tiger for "Hadleyburg purity and our eighteen immortal representatives of it."
Then Wingate, the saddler, got up and proposed cheers "for the cleanest man in town, the one solitary important citizen in it who didn't try to steal that money--Edward Richards."
They were given with great and moving heartiness; then somebody proposed that "Richards be elected sole Guardian and Symbol of the now Sacred Hadleyburg Tradition, with power and right to stand up and look the whole sarcastic world in the face."
Passed, by acclamation; then they sang the "Mikado" again, and ended it with -
"And there's ONE Symbol left, you bet!"
There was a pause; then -
A Voice. "Now, then, who's to get the sack?"
The Tanner (with bitter sarcasm). "That's easy. The money has to be divided among the eighteen Incorruptibles. They gave the suffering stranger twenty dollars apiece--and that remark--each in his turn--it took twenty-two minutes for the procession to move past. Staked the stranger--total contribution, $360. All they want is just the loan back--and interest--forty thousand dollars altogether."
Many Voices [derisively.] "That's it! Divvy! divvy! Be kind to the poor--don't keep them waiting!"
The Chair. "Order! I now offer the stranger's remaining document. It says: 'If no claimant shall appear [grand chorus of groans], I desire that you open the sack and count out the money to the principal citizens of your town, they to take it in trust [Cries of "Oh! Oh! Oh!"], and use it in such ways as to them shall seem best for the propagation and preservation of your community's noble reputation for incorruptible honesty [more cries]--a reputation to which their names and their efforts will add a new and far-reaching lustre." [Enthusiastic outburst of sarcastic applause.] That seems to be all. No--here is a postscript:
"'P.S.--CITIZENS OF HADLEYBURG: There IS no test-remark--nobody made one. [Great sensation.] There wasn't any pauper stranger, nor any twenty-dollar contribution, nor any accompanying benediction and compliment--these are all inventions. [General buzz and hum of astonishment and delight.] Allow me to tell my story--it will take but a word or two. I passed through your town at a certain time, and received a deep offence which I had not earned. Any other man would have been content to kill one or two of you and call it square, but to me that would have been a trivial revenge, and inadequate; for the dead do not SUFFER. Besides I could not kill you all--and, anyway, made as I am, even that would not have satisfied me. I wanted to damage every man in the place, and every woman--and not in their bodies or in their estate, but in their vanity--the place where feeble and foolish people are most vulnerable. So I disguised myself and came back and studied you. You were easy game. You had an old and lofty reputation for honesty, and naturally you were proud of it--it was your treasure of treasures, the very apple of your eye. As soon as I found out that you carefully and vigilantly kept yourselves and your children OUT OF TEMPTATION, I knew how to proceed. Why, you simple creatures, the weakest of all weak things is a virtue which has not been tested in the fire. I laid a plan, and gathered a list of names. My project was to corrupt Hadleyburg the Incorruptible. My idea was to make liars and thieves of nearly half a hundred smirchless men and women who had never in their lives uttered a lie or stolen a penny. I was afraid of Goodson. He was neither born nor reared in Hadleyburg. I was afraid that if I started to operate my scheme by getting my letter laid before you, you would say to yourselves, 'Goodson is the only man among us who would give away twenty dollars to a poor devil'-- and then you might not bite at my bait. But heaven took Goodson; then I knew I was safe, and I set my trap and baited it. It may be that I shall not catch all the men to whom I mailed the pretended test-secret, but I shall catch the most of them, if I know Hadleyburg nature. [Voices. "Right--he got every last one of them."] I believe they will even steal ostensible GAMBLE-money, rather than miss, poor, tempted, and mistrained fellows. I am hoping to eternally and everlastingly squelch your vanity and give Hadleyburg a new renown--one that will STICK--and spread far. If I have succeeded, open the sack and summon the Committee on Propagation and Preservation of the Hadleyburg Reputation.'"
A Cyclone of Voices. "Open it! Open it! The Eighteen to the front! Committee on Propagation of the Tradition! Forward--the Incorruptibles!"
The Chair ripped the sack wide, and gathered up a handful of bright, broad, yellow coins, shook them together, then examined them.
"Friends, they are only gilded disks of lead!"
There was a crashing outbreak of delight over this news, and when the noise had subsided, the tanner called out:
"By right of apparent seniority in this business, Mr. Wilson is Chairman of the Committee on Propagation of the Tradition. I suggest that he step forward on behalf of his pals, and receive in trust the money."
A Hundred Voices. "Wilson! Wilson! Wilson! Speech! Speech!"
Wilson [in a voice trembling with anger]. "You will allow me to say, and without apologies for my language, DAMN the money!"
A Voice. "Oh, and him a Baptist!"
A Voice. "Seventeen Symbols left! Step up, gentlemen, and assume your trust!"
There was a pause--no response.
The Saddler. "Mr. Chairman, we've got ONE clean man left, anyway, out of the late aristocracy; and he needs money, and deserves it. I move that you appoint Jack Halliday to get up there and auction off that sack of gilt twenty-dollar pieces, and give the result to the right man--the man whom Hadleyburg delights to honour--Edward Richards."
This was received with great enthusiasm, the dog taking a hand again; the saddler started the bids at a dollar, the Brixton folk and Barnum's representative fought hard for it, the people cheered every jump that the bids made, the excitement climbed moment by moment higher and higher, the bidders got on their mettle and grew steadily more and more daring, more and more determined, the jumps went from a dollar up to five, then to ten, then to twenty, then fifty, then to a hundred, then -
At the beginning of the auction Richards whispered in distress to his wife: "Oh, Mary, can we allow it? It--it --you see, it is an honour--reward, a testimonial to purity of character, and--and--can we allow it? Hadn't I better get up and--Oh, Mary, what ought we to do?--what do you think we--" [Halliday's voice. "Fifteen I'm bid!-- fifteen for the sack!--twenty!--ah, thanks!--thirty--thanks again! Thirty, thirty, thirty!--do I hear forty?--forty it is! Keep the ball rolling, gentlemen, keep it rolling!--fifty! --thanks, noble Roman!--going at fifty, fifty, fifty!--seventy! --ninety!-- splendid!--a hundred!--pile it up, pile it up!--hundred and twenty-- forty!--just in time!--hundred and fifty!--Two hundred!--superb! Do I hear two h--thanks! --two hundred and fifty!--"]
"It is another temptation, Edward--I'm all in a tremble --but, oh, we've escaped one temptation, and that ought to warn us, to--["Six did I hear?--thanks!--six fifty, six f--SEVEN hundred!"] And yet, Edward, when you think--nobody susp--["Eight hundred dollars!-- hurrah!--make it nine!--Mr. Parsons, did I hear you say--thanks!-- nine!--this noble sack of virgin lead going at only nine hundred dollars, gilding and all-- come! do I hear--a thousand!--gratefully yours!--did some one say eleven?--a sack which is going to be the most celebrated in the whole Uni--"] "Oh, Edward" (beginning to sob), "we are so poor!--but--but--do as you think best--do as you think best."
Edward fell--that is, he sat still; sat with a conscience which was not satisfied, but which was overpowered by circumstances.
Meantime a stranger, who looked like an amateur detective gotten up as an impossible English earl, had been watching the evening's proceedings with manifest interest, and with a contented expression in his face; and he had been privately commenting to himself. He was now soliloquising somewhat like this: 'None of the Eighteen are bidding; that is not satisfactory; I must change that--the dramatic unities require it; they must buy the sack they tried to steal; they must pay a heavy price, too--some of them are rich. And another thing, when I make a mistake in Hadleyburg nature the man that puts that error upon me is entitled to a high honorarium, and some one must pay. This poor old Richards has brought my judgment to shame; he is an honest man:--I don't understand it, but I acknowledge it. Yes, he saw my deuces--AND with a straight flush, and by rights the pot is his. And it shall be a jack-pot, too, if I can manage it. He disappointed me, but let that pass."
He was watching the bidding. At a thousand, the market broke: the prices tumbled swiftly. He waited--and still watched. One competitor dropped out; then another, and another. He put in a bid or two now. When the bids had sunk to ten dollars, he added a five; some one raised him a three; he waited a moment, then flung in a fifty-dollar jump, and the sack was his--at $1,282. The house broke out in cheers--then stopped; for he was on his feet, and had lifted his hand. He began to speak.
"I desire to say a word, and ask a favour. I am a speculator in rarities, and I have dealings with persons interested in numismatics all over the world. I can make a profit on this purchase, just as it stands; but there is a way, if I can get your approval, whereby I can make every one of these leaden twenty-dollar pieces worth its face in gold, and perhaps more. Grant me that approval, and I will give part of my gains to your Mr. Richards, whose invulnerable probity you have so justly and so cordially recognised tonight; his share shall be ten thousand dollars, and I will hand him the money to-morrow. [Great applause from the house. But the "invulnerable probity" made the Richardses blush prettily; however, it went for modesty, and did no harm.] If you will pass my proposition by a good majority--I would like a two-thirds vote--I will regard that as the town's consent, and that is all I ask. Rarities are always helped by any device which will rouse curiosity and compel remark. Now if I may have your permission to stamp upon the faces of each of these ostensible coins the names of the eighteen gentlemen who--"
Nine-tenths of the audience were on their feet in a moment--dog and all--and the proposition was carried with a whirlwind of approving applause and laughter.
They sat down, and all the Symbols except "Dr." Clay Harkness got up, violently protesting against the proposed outrage, and threatening to -
"I beg you not to threaten me," said the stranger calmly. "I know my legal rights, and am not accustomed to being frightened at bluster." [Applause.] He sat down. "Dr." Harkness saw an opportunity here. He was one of the two very rich men of the place, and Pinkerton was the other. Harkness was proprietor of a mint; that is to say, a popular patent medicine. He was running for the Legislature on one ticket, and Pinkerton on the other. It was a close race and a hot one, and getting hotter every day. Both had strong appetites for money; each had bought a great tract of land, with a purpose; there was going to be a new railway, and each wanted to be in the Legislature and help locate the route to his own advantage; a single vote might make the decision, and with it two or three fortunes. The stake was large, and Harkness was a daring speculator. He was sitting close to the stranger. He leaned over while one or another of the other Symbols was entertaining the house with protests and appeals, and asked, in a whisper,
"What is your price for the sack?"
"Forty thousand dollars."
"I'll give you twenty."
"No."
"Twenty-five."
"No."
"Say thirty."
"The price is forty thousand dollars; not a penny less."
"All right, I'll give it. I will come to the hotel at ten in the morning. I don't want it known; will see you privately."
"Very good." Then the stranger got up and said to the house:
"I find it late. The speeches of these gentlemen are not without merit, not without interest, not without grace; yet if I may he excused I will take my leave. I thank you for the great favour which you have shown me in granting my petition. I ask the Chair to keep the sack for me until to-morrow, and to hand these three five- hundred-dollar notes to Mr. Richards." They were passed up to the Chair.
"At nine I will call for the sack, and at eleven will deliver the rest of the ten thousand to Mr. Richards in person at his home. Good-night."
Then he slipped out, and left the audience making a vast noise, which was composed of a mixture of cheers, the "Mikado" song, dog- disapproval, and the chant, "You are f-a-r from being a b-a-a-d man- -a-a-a a-men!"
 
镇公所从来没有这么漂亮过。里侧的主席台后面挂上了鲜艳夺目的旗帜，两边墙上彩旗高悬，次第排开，楼座的前沿包着彩旗；柱子上也裹着彩旗；这一切都是为了给外地人加深印象，因为外地来宾想必都不是等闲之辈，而且多半会和新闻界有联系。全场座无虚席。四百一十二个固定座位坐满了。过道里挤出来的六十八个加座也坐满了。主席台的台阶上坐了人，有几位重要来宾被安排在主席台就座，主席台前沿和两侧成马蹄形摆开一排桌子，桌子后面坐着来自各地的大批特派记者。人们的扮相达到了这个镇子的历史最高水平。这里还颇有几套价格不菲的华丽服装，穿了这种衣服的女士看上去有点儿不大自在。起码是本镇人觉得她们不大自在，也许只是因为镇子上的人知道她们从来没有穿过这种衣服，所以才有了这种感觉。
那一袋金子放在主席台前的一张小桌子上，全场都能看得见。在场的大多数人都饶有兴趣地盯着它，这是一种火烧火燎的兴趣，垂涎欲滴的兴趣，望洋兴叹的兴趣。占少数的那十九对夫妇却以亲切、爱抚和拥有者的眼神看着它，而这个少数派中的那一半男性还忙着一遍遍地默诵感谢与会者欢呼与祝贺的答词，他们很快就要站起来发表这篇振奋人心的答词了。这些先生中不时有一位从马甲口袋里摸出一张字条来，偷偷扫上一眼，把忘了的词想起来。
当然啦，场内一直回响着嗡嗡的交谈声——这是常事；可是后来牧师伯杰斯先生起立，把手往那只口袋上一按，全场就静得能让他听见自己身上的跳蚤磨牙了。他先叙述了钱袋子令人神往的来龙去脉，继而热情洋溢地谈起了哈德莱堡因无懈可击的诚实而获得的历史悠久、当之无愧的名望，全镇人对这种名望感到衷心的自豪。他说，这种名望原本就是一份无价之宝；靠上帝保佑，如今这笔财富的价值更是变得不可估量，因为最近发生的这件事把哈德莱堡的名声广为传播，让全美洲所有人的眼光都聚焦在这个镇子上，并使哈德莱堡这个名字永远——这一点他希望并且相信——成为“拒腐蚀”的同义词。（掌声）“那么，靠谁来呵护这笔高尚的财富呢 ——靠全镇人一起来呵护吗？不！呵护哈德莱堡名望的责任是每一个人的，而不是集体的。从今以后，诸位人人都要亲自担任它的特别监护人，各负其责，使它免受任何伤害。请问大家——请问各位——是否接受这个重托呢（台下纷纷答应）？那太好了。还要把这种责任传给你们的后代，子子孙孙传下去。今天你们的纯洁是无可非议的——务必让纯洁永远保持下去。今天，你们中间没有一个人会经不起诱惑去碰别人的钱，非己之财，一文莫取——一定要恪守这种美德（‘一定！一定！’）。这里我不想拿我们镇子和别的镇子对比——尽管有的镇子对我们缺乏善意。大路朝天，各走半边；让我们知足常乐吧（掌声）。我讲完了。朋友们，在我手下，是一位外乡人对我们的令人信服的表彰；通过他，从今以后全世界将永远明白我们是一些什么样的人。我们并不知道他是谁，不过我谨代表各位向他表示感谢，请诸位放开喉咙，表示赞同。”
全场起立，发出长时间雷鸣般的欢呼声，表达他们的谢意，声音震得四壁乱颤。大家落座以后，伯杰斯先生从衣袋里取出一个信封。他撕开信封，从里面抽出一张字条，全场的人都屏住了呼吸。他用语重心长的口气慢慢念出了字条上的内容——听众心醉神迷地倾听着这句有魔力的、字字千金的话：
“我对那位落难的外乡人说的话是：‘你绝对不是一个坏蛋；去吧，改了就好。’”伯杰斯念完后说道：
“咱们马上就能知道，这上面写的话和封在钱袋里那句话是否相同；如果相同——这一点毫无疑问——这一袋金子就属于本镇的一位公民了，从今以后，他将作为特立独行的美德模范屹立在国人面前，正是这种美德使本镇蜚声海内——比尔逊先生！”
全场的人正憋足劲要爆发出一阵狂风骤雨般的欢呼声；结果没有这样做，反而像集体中风似的，一起呆了一两秒钟，然后，一阵窃窃私语声在全场蔓延开来——内容诸如此类：“比尔逊！噢，别逗啦，这也太离谱了吧！拿二十块钱给一个外乡人——别管给谁了——就凭比尔逊！这话讲给水手们听还差不多！”这时，全场又因为发觉了另一件新奇事，突然静了下来：在会场的一处站起来的是比尔逊执事，他满脸忠厚地耷拉着脑袋，在另外一处，威尔逊律师也像他一样站了起来。众人好奇地沉默了片刻。
事出意外，人人都大惑不解，那十九对夫妇更是怒气冲冲。
比尔逊和威尔逊各自转过脸来，四目相对。比尔逊话里带刺地问：
“威尔逊先生，您干吗要站起来呀？”
“因为我有站起来的权利呀。也许您能行行好，给大伙儿说一说您干吗要站起来？”
“不胜荣幸。因为那张字条是我写的。”
“厚脸皮，撒谎！那是我亲手写的！”
这下轮到伯杰斯发呆了。他站在主席台上，茫然若失地望望这一位，又望望那一位，有点儿不知所措。全场的人也目瞪口呆。这时威尔逊律师开口了，他说；
“我请求主席念出那张字条上的签名。”
这句话让主席清醒过来，他大声念出了那个名字：
“约翰•华顿•比尔逊。”
“怎么样！”比尔逊大喝一声，“现在你还有什么可说的？还想蒙人呢，说说你到底打算怎么给我赔罪，给在场受侮辱的诸位赂罪吧？”
“我无罪可赔，先生；不仅如此，我还要公开指控你从伯杰斯先生那里偷走了我写的那张字条，照原样抄了一份，签上你的名字掉了包。除此以外，你没有别的办法能得到这句对证词；在世的人里面只有我一个人掌握着这些话的秘密。”
事情再这样下去非出丑不可；大家痛心地注意到记者正笔走龙蛇，拼命做笔记；很多人叫着“主席，主席！维持秩序！维持秩序！”伯杰斯敲着手里的小木槌说：
“咱们别忘了礼法。这件事显然是哪里出了一点儿岔子，不过，可以肯定没什么大不了的。如果威尔逊先生给过我一个信封——我现在想起来了，他是给过我一个——我还保存着哪。”
他从衣袋里拿出一个信封，撕开来扫了一眼，又惊又恼地站在那儿，好一会儿没有做声。他六神无主地用僵硬的姿势摆手，鼓了几次劲想说点什么，却垂头丧气地欲言又止。有几个人大声喊道：
“念呀！念呀！上面写的是什么？”
于是，他用梦游般恍恍惚惚的声调念了起来：
“‘我对那位不幸的外乡人说的那句话是：“你决不是一个坏蛋；（全场瞪着眼睛望着他，大为吃惊。）去吧，改了就好。’”（全场议论纷纷：“真奇怪！这是怎么回事？”）主席说，‘这一张的落款是瑟卢•威尔逊。’”
“怎么样！”威尔逊大声喊道，“依我看，这件事就算水落石出了！再清楚不过：我那张字条是让人偷看了。”
“偷看！”比尔逊针锋相对。“我非得让你知道点儿厉害：别管是你，还是像你这样的混蛋，胆敢——”
主席：“肃静，先生们，肃静！坐下，你们两位都请坐下。”
他们服从了，可是依然晃着脑袋，怒气冲冲地喋喋不休。大家全都糊涂了；面对这个突如其来的奇特场面，人们不知如何是好。稍停，汤普森站了起来。汤普森是开帽子铺的。他本来有意跻身于十九大户之列，可是没能如愿以偿：因为想要与十九大户为伍，他铺子里的帽子还不够多。他说：
“主席先生，要让我说，难道这两位先生都没错吗？我想请教你，先生，难道他们俩都对那位外乡人说了一模一样的话不成？我觉得——”
皮匠站起来，打断了他的话。皮匠是个一肚子委屈的人，他自信有实力入选十九家大户，但是没有得到认可。因此，他的言谈举止也就掺杂了一点儿情绪。他说：
“嗨，问题倒不在这儿！这样的事也说不定会有——一百年里也许能遇上两回——可是，另外有一件事百年也遇不上一次。他们俩谁也没有给过那二十块钱！”
（一片喝彩声。）
比尔逊：“我给过！”
威尔逊：“我给过！”
接着两人又互相指控对方做贼。
主席：“肃静，请坐下——两位都请坐下。这两张字条无论哪一张一时一刻都没有离开过我。”
一个声音喊着：“好——那就没什么问题了！”
皮匠：“主席先生，现在有一点弄明白了：这两位先生当中反正有一个曾经藏在另一家床底下，偷听人家的家庭秘密。要是不怕坏了开会的规矩，我就说一句吧：这件事他们两个人可都干得出来（主席：“肃静！肃静！”）。我收回这句话，先生，现在我只提一条建议：假如他们两个人当中有一个偷听过另一个对老婆说那句对证词，咱们现在就能把他揪出来。”
有人问：“怎么办？”
皮匠：“好办。这两个人引那句话的时候，用的字眼并不完全一样。读两张字条当中相隔的时间长了一点儿，还插进去一段脸红脖子粗的嘴仗，要不是这样，大家早就注意到了。”
有人说：“把不一样的地方说出来。”
皮匠：“比尔逊的字条写的是‘绝对不是’，威尔逊字条写的是‘决不是’。”
许多人的声音：“是那么写的——他说的对！”
皮匠：“那么，现在只要主席把钱袋里那句对证的话查对一下，咱们就能知道这两个骗子哪一个——（主席：“肃静！”）——这两位投机分子哪一个——（主席： “肃静！肃静！”）——这两位绅士哪一个——（哄堂大笑和掌声）——究竟谁有资格披红戴花，荣任本镇有史以来的首任骗人精——他让哈德莱堡丢了人，从今以后哈德莱堡也要让他不自在！”（热烈的掌声。）
许多人的声音：“打开！——打开口袋！”
伯杰斯先生把那只口袋撕开了一条缝，伸手抽出一个信封来。信封里装着两张折叠的字条。他说：
“这两张字条有一张写着，‘在写给主席的所有条子——如果有的话——全部念完以前不要查看，’另一张上写着‘对证词’。让我来念一念。条子上写的——是：
“我并不要求把我的恩公对我说过的话前半部分引用得一字不差，因为那一半比较平淡，而且可能遗忘；但是结尾的三十个字非常醒目，我想也好记；如果不能把这些字一字不差地重写出来，该申请人即可视为骗子。我的恩公在开始时说过，他很少给别人忠告，不过一旦给人忠告，那必定是字字千金。随后他就说了那句话—— 这句话刻在我的心中，一直没有淡忘：“你决不是一个坏人——”
五十个人的声音：“好了——钱归威尔逊了！威尔逊！威尔逊！讲话吧！讲话吧！”
大家一跃而起，簇拥在威尔逊身边，攥着他的手，热烈地向他道贺——这时候主席敲着小木槌，大声喊着：
“肃静，先生们！肃静！肃静！帮帮忙，让我念完。”场内恢复平静以后，主席继续宣读——接下来是：
“‘去吧，改了就好——否则，记着我的话——因为你作了孽，总有一天你得死，不是去地狱，就是去哈德莱堡——还是想办法去前一个地方吧。’”
随后是死一样的沉寂。起初，一片愤怒的阴云飘来，罩得人们脸色阴暗起来。过了一会儿，这片阴云慢慢飘散，一种幸灾乐祸的神色想努力取而代之。这种努力非常顽强，大家全力以赴，痛苦不堪地克服困难，才把它压了下去。记者们，布里克斯顿镇来的人，以及其他外地人都低着头，双手捂脸，靠了全身的力气和非同寻常的礼貌才忍住了。就在这时，一声桀骛不驯的吼声突然爆发，不合时宜地冲破了场内的沉寂——这是杰克•哈里代的声音：
“这话才是字字千金哪！”
全场的人，包括客人在内，全都忍不住了。就连伯杰斯先生也暂时放下了架子，这时，与会的人感到所有拘束都已正式解除，于是大家就随心所欲了。一阵长时间的大笑，笑得风狂雨骤，痛快淋漓，不过最后终于停了下来——这停下来的时间长得刚好让伯杰斯先生准备继续发言，长得让大家能擦掉笑出来的眼泪；跟着笑声又爆发了，后来又是一阵大笑；直到最后，伯杰斯才得以正正经经地发表如下讲话：
“想遮掩事实是没有用处的——如今，我们面临一个非常重大的问题。这个问题事关本镇的荣誉，危及全镇的名声。威尔逊先生和比尔逊先生提交的对证词有两字之差，这件事性质非常严重，因为这表明两位先生之中总有一位做过贼——”
这两个人本来瘫坐在那里，有气无力，抬不起头来；可是一听到这些话，他们俩都像通了电一样行动起来，想挺身站起——
“坐下！”主席厉声说，他们都服从了。“我刚才说了，这件事值的性质非常严重。这件事情——虽然只是他们俩人之中的一个人干的，可是问题却没有这么简单；因为现在他们两个人的名誉都处于可怕的险境。我能不能说得更严重一点儿，是处于难以脱身的险境之中呢？两个人都漏掉了那至关紧要的三十个字。”他顿了一下。在这几秒钟的时间里，他故意让那遍布全场的沉静凝聚起来，强化它给人深刻印象的效果，然后接着说：“好像只有通过一种方式才会出现这样的事。我请问这两位先生——你们是不是串通好了？——你们是不是合伙的？”
一阵低语声掠过场内；意思是说“他一箭双雕了”。
比尔逊没有经历过意外场面，他无可奈何地瘫坐着；可威尔逊是律师。虽然脸色苍白，心烦意乱，他还是挣扎着站起来说：
“我请求诸位开恩，让我解释一下这件非常痛心的事情。很抱歉，我要把这些话说出来，因为这必定会让比尔逊先生受到不可弥补的损害。迄今为止，我一直对比尔逊先生另眼相看、非常敬重。过去我绝对相信，任何诱惑都奈何不得比尔逊先生——就像诸位一样的相信。可是，为了维护我自己的名誉，我只得说了——打开天窗说亮话。我无地自容地承认——现在我要请求你们原谅 ——我曾经向那位落难的外乡人说过那对证词里包含的所有字句，连那三十个字的诽谤之词也说过。（群情冲动）最近报上登出这件事以后，我回忆起了那些话，决定来领这一口袋钱，因为我有充分的权利得到它。现在我请大家考虑一件事，仔细推敲一下：那天夜里外乡人对我感激不尽；他自己也说到想不出恰当的字眼来表达他的感激之情，并且说假如有一天他力所能及，一定要给我千倍的报答。那么，现在我想请问诸位：难道我能想像——难道我能相信——就算想到天边也想不到——既然他对我满怀感激之情，反倒会干出这种忘恩负义的事来，在他的对证词里加上那完全没有必要加的三十个字？——给我设这么一个陷阱？——让我在自己人面前，在大庭广众之中，因为诽谤过自己的镇子而出丑？这太荒唐了，真不可想像。他的对证词应该只包含我给他的忠告开头那句情真意切的话。我对这一点毫不怀疑。只怕换了各位也会这么想。你们决不会想像，你帮了别人的忙，也没有得罪过他，可他反而这么卑鄙地陷害你。所以我满怀自信、毫不怀疑地在一张纸条上写下了开头的那句话——结尾是‘去吧，改了就好’——然后签了名。我正要把字条装进一个信封，有人叫我到办公室里间去，这时我连想也没有想那张字条正摊开摆在桌子上。”他停下来，慢慢地朝比尔逊转过头去，等了一会，接着说：“请大家注意：过了一小会儿我回来的时候，比尔逊先生正从我的前门走出去。”（群情冲动。）
比尔逊当时就站了起来，大喊一声：
“撒谎！这是不要脸的谎话！”
主席：“请坐下，先生！现在由威尔逊先生讲话。”
比尔逊的朋友们把他接到座位上，劝他镇静下来，威尔逊接着说：
“事情就是这么简单。那时我写的字条已经不在原先我放的地方了。我发现了这一点，不过当时并没有在意，我想可能是风吹的。我绝没有想到比尔逊先生居然会看私人文件，他是个台面上的人，想必不会屈尊干那种事情。容我直说了吧，我想，他把‘决’写成了‘绝对’，这多出来的一个字就已经说明问题：这是因为记性差了那么一点儿。世界上只有我一个人能一字不漏地写出对证词来——而且是用高尚的方式。我的话讲完了。”
世界上没有什么东西像一篇诱导演说那样富于煽动性，它能往不熟悉演说诀窍和骗术的听众的神经系统里灌迷魂汤，颠覆他们的信念，放纵他们的情绪。威尔逊得胜落座，全场赞许的欢呼声像浪潮一样淹没了他。朋友们云集在威尔逊周围，和他握手，向他道贺；比尔逊却被呵斥声压住，说不上一句话。主席使劲敲着小木槌，不断地喊：
“咱们还要继续开会呢，先生们，咱们继续吧！”
后来场内终于安静了许多，那位开帽子铺的说：
“可是，还继续干什么呢，先生，剩下的不就是给钱了吗？”
众人的声音：“对呀！对呀！到前面来吧，威尔逊！”
卖帽子的：“我提议：向特殊美德的化身威尔逊先生三呼万岁——”
话没落地就爆发了欢呼声。在欢呼声中——在主席的木槌声中——有些好事的人把威尔逊抬到一个大个子朋友的肩膀上，正打算把这胜利者送到主席台上去。这时候主席的嗓门压倒了喧闹声——
“肃静！回到你们的座位上去！你们都忘了还有一张字条没念呢。”会场恢复平静以后，他拿起那张字条正要开始念，却又把它放下来，说道：“我忘了；要先念完我收到的所有信件，才能读这张字条。”他从衣袋里拿出一个信封，抽出里面的信来扫了一眼——愣了一下——把信拿得远一点仔细端详——眼睁睁地看着。
有二三十个人的声音喊道：
“写的是什么？念呀！念呀！”
于是他念了起来——带着诧异神情慢慢念道：
“‘我对那位外乡人说的那句——（众人的声音：“嗨！怎么搞的？”）——话是：“你决不是一个坏蛋。（众人的声音：“老天爷！”）去吧，改了就好。”（众人的声音：“噢，乱了套啦！”）落款是银行家平克顿。”
一阵肆无忌惮的狂笑冲破了禁忌，轰然爆发。这种笑法让明白人简直想哭。没有受牵连的人们笑得眼泪直淌；肚子都笑疼了的记者们在纸上涂抹谁也认不出来的天书；一只正在打盹的狗吓破了胆，跳起来向一团糟的场面疯狂嗥叫。在一片喧嚣声中，各式各样的喊叫此起彼伏：“咱们镇子发财了——两位拒腐蚀的模范！&m
Chapter 4
At home the Richardses had to endure congratulations and compliments until midnight. Then they were left to themselves. They looked a little sad, and they sat silent and thinking. Finally Mary sighed and said:
"Do you think we are to blame, Edward--MUCH to blame?" and her eyes wandered to the accusing triplet of big bank-notes lying on the table, where the congratulators had been gloating over them and reverently fingering them. Edward did not answer at once; then he brought out a sigh and said, hesitatingly:
"We--we couldn't help it, Mary. It--well it was ordered. ALL things are."
Mary glanced up and looked at him steadily, but he didn't return the look. Presently she said:
"I thought congratulations and praises always tasted good. But--it seems to me, now-- Edward?"
"Well?"
"Are you going to stay in the bank?"
"N--no."
"Resign?"
"In the morning--by note."
"It does seem best."
Richards bowed his head in his hands and muttered:
"Before I was not afraid to let oceans of people's money pour through my hands, but-- Mary, I am so tired, so tired--"
"We will go to bed."
At nine in the morning the stranger called for the sack and took it to the hotel in a cab. At ten Harkness had a talk with him privately. The stranger asked for and got five cheques on a metropolitan bank--drawn to "Bearer,"--four for $1,500 each, and one for $34,000. He put one of the former in his pocket-book, and the remainder, representing $38,500, he put in an envelope, and with these he added a note which he wrote after Harkness was gone. At eleven he called at the Richards' house and knocked. Mrs. Richards peeped through the shutters, then went and received the envelope, and the stranger disappeared without a word. She came back flushed and a little unsteady on her legs, and gasped out:
"I am sure I recognised him! Last night it seemed to me that maybe I had seen him somewhere before."
"He is the man that brought the sack here?"
"I am almost sure of it."
"Then he is the ostensible Stephenson too, and sold every important citizen in this town with his bogus secret. Now if he has sent cheques instead of money, we are sold too, after we thought we had escaped. I was beginning to feel fairly comfortable once more, after my night's rest, but the look of that envelope makes me sick. It isn't fat enough; $8,500 in even the largest bank-notes makes more bulk than that."
"Edward, why do you object to cheques?"
"Cheques signed by Stephenson! I am resigned to take the $8,500 if it could come in bank-notes--for it does seem that it was so ordered, Mary--but I have never had much courage, and I have not the pluck to try to market a cheque signed with that disastrous name. It would be a trap. That man tried to catch me; we escaped somehow or other; and now he is trying a new way. If it is cheques--"
"Oh, Edward, it is TOO bad!" And she held up the cheques and began to cry.
"Put them in the fire! quick! we mustn't be tempted. It is a trick to make the world laugh at US, along with the rest, and-- Give them to ME, since you can't do it!" He snatched them and tried to hold his grip till he could get to the stove; but he was human, he was a cashier, and he stopped a moment to make sure of the signature. Then he came near to fainting.
"Fan me, Mary, fan me! They are the same as gold!"
"Oh, how lovely, Edward! Why?"
"Signed by Harkness. What can the mystery of that be, Mary?"
"Edward, do you think--"
"Look here--look at this! Fifteen--fifteen--fifteen--thirty-four. Thirty-eight thousand five hundred! Mary, the sack isn't worth twelve dollars, and Harkness--apparently--has paid about par for it."
"And does it all come to us, do you think--instead of the ten thousand?"
"Why, it looks like it. And the cheques are made to 'Bearer,' too."
"Is that good, Edward? What is it for?"
"A hint to collect them at some distant bank, I reckon. Perhaps Harkness doesn't want the matter known. What is that--a note?"
"Yes. It was with the cheques."
It was in the "Stephenson" handwriting, but there was no signature. It said:
"I am a disappointed man. Your honesty is beyond the reach of temptation. I had a different idea about it, but I wronged you in that, and I beg pardon, and do it sincerely. I honour you--and that is sincere too. This town is not worthy to kiss the hem of your garment. Dear sir, I made a square bet with myself that there were nineteen debauchable men in your self-righteous community. I have lost. Take the whole pot, you are entitled to it."
Richards drew a deep sigh, and said:
"It seems written with fire--it burns so. Mary--I am miserable again."
"I, too. Ah, dear, I wish--"
"To think, Mary--he BELIEVES in me."
"Oh, don't, Edward--I can't bear it."
"If those beautiful words were deserved, Mary--and God knows I believed I deserved them once--I think I could give the forty thousand dollars for them. And I would put that paper away, as representing more than gold and jewels, and keep it always. But now-- We could not live in the shadow of its accusing presence, Mary."
He put it in the fire.
A messenger arrived and delivered an envelope. Richards took from it a note and read it; it was from Burgess:
"You saved me, in a difficult time. I saved you last night. It was at cost of a lie, but I made the sacrifice freely, and out of a grateful heart. None in this village knows so well as I know how brave and good and noble you are. At bottom you cannot respect me, knowing as you do of that matter of which I am accused, and by the general voice condemned; but I beg that you will at least believe that I am a grateful man; it will help me to bear my burden. [Signed] 'BURGESS.'"
"Saved, once more. And on such terms!" He put the note in the lire. "I--I wish I were dead, Mary, I wish I were out of it all!"
"Oh, these are bitter, bitter days, Edward. The stabs, through their very generosity, are so deep--and they come so fast!"
Three days before the election each of two thousand voters suddenly found himself in possession of a prized memento--one of the renowned bogus double-eagles. Around one of its faces was stamped these words: "THE REMARK I MADE TO THE POOR STRANGER WAS--" Around the other face was stamped these: "GO, AND REFORM. [SIGNED] PINKERTON." Thus the entire remaining refuse of the renowned joke was emptied upon a single head, and with calamitous effect. It revived the recent vast laugh and concentrated it upon Pinkerton; and Harkness's election was a walk-over.
Within twenty-four hours after the Richardses had received their cheques their consciences were quieting down, discouraged; the old couple were learning to reconcile themselves to the sin which they had committed. But they were to learn, now, that a sin takes on new and real terrors when there seems a chance that it is going to be found out. This gives it a fresh and most substantial and important aspect. At church the morning sermon was of the usual pattern; it was the same old things said in the same old way; they had heard them a thousand times and found them innocuous, next to meaningless, and easy to sleep under; but now it was different: the sermon seemed to bristle with accusations; it seemed aimed straight and specially at people who were concealing deadly sins. After church they got away from the mob of congratulators as soon as they could, and hurried homeward, chilled to the bone at they did not know what- -vague, shadowy, indefinite fears. And by chance they caught a glimpse of Mr. Burgess as he turned a corner. He paid no attention to their nod of recognition! He hadn't seen it; but they did not know that. What could his conduct mean? It might mean--it might-- mean--oh, a dozen dreadful things. Was it possible that he knew that Richards could have cleared him of guilt in that bygone time, and had been silently waiting for a chance to even up accounts? At home, in their distress they got to imagining that their servant might have been in the next room listening when Richards revealed the secret to his wife that he knew of Burgess's innocence; next Richards began to imagine that he had heard the swish of a gown in there at that time; next, he was sure he HAD heard it. They would call Sarah in, on a pretext, and watch her face; if she had been betraying them to Mr. Burgess, it would show in her manner. They asked her some questions--questions which were so random and incoherent and seemingly purposeless that the girl felt sure that the old people's minds had been affected by their sudden good fortune; the sharp and watchful gaze which they bent upon her frightened her, and that completed the business. She blushed, she became nervous and confused, and to the old people these were plain signs of guilt--guilt of some fearful sort or other--without doubt she was a spy and a traitor. When they were alone again they began to piece many unrelated things together and get horrible results out of the combination. When things had got about to the worst Richards was delivered of a sudden gasp and his wife asked:
"Oh, what is it?--what is it?"
"The note--Burgess's note! Its language was sarcastic, I see it now." He quoted: "'At bottom you cannot respect me, KNOWING, as you do, of THAT MATTER OF which I am accused'--oh, it is perfectly plain, now, God help me! He knows that I know! You see the ingenuity of the phrasing. It was a trap--and like a fool, I walked into it. And Mary--!"
"Oh, it is dreadful--I know what you are going to say --he didn't return your transcript of the pretended test-remark."
"No--kept it to destroy us with. Mary, he has exposed us to some already. I know it--I know it well. I saw it in a dozen faces after church. Ah, he wouldn't answer our nod of recognition--he knew what he had been doing!"
In the night the doctor was called. The news went around in the morning that the old couple were rather seriously ill--prostrated by the exhausting excitement growing out of their great windfall, the congratulations, and the late hours, the doctor said. The town was sincerely distressed; for these old people were about all it had left to be proud of, now.
Two days later the news was worse. The old couple were delirious, and were doing strange things. By witness of the nurses, Richards had exhibited cheques--for $8,500? No--for an amazing sum--$38,500! What could be the explanation of this gigantic piece of luck?
The following day the nurses had more news--and wonderful. They had concluded to hide the cheques, lest harm come to them; but when they searched they were gone from under the patient's pillow--vanished away. The patient said:
"Let the pillow alone; what do you want?"
"We thought it best that the cheques--"
"You will never see them again--they are destroyed. They came from Satan. I saw the hell-brand on them, and I knew they were sent to betray me to sin." Then he fell to gabbling strange and dreadful things which were not clearly understandable, and which the doctor admonished them to keep to themselves.
Richards was right; the cheques were never seen again.
A nurse must have talked in her sleep, for within two days the forbidden gabblings were the property of the town; and they were of a surprising sort. They seemed to indicate that Richards had been a claimant for the sack himself, and that Burgess had concealed that fact and then maliciously betrayed it.
Burgess was taxed with this and stoutly denied it. And he said it was not fair to attach weight to the chatter of a sick old man who was out of his mind. Still, suspicion was in the air, and there was much talk.
After a day or two it was reported that Mrs. Richards's delirious deliveries were getting to be duplicates of her husband's. Suspicion flamed up into conviction, now, and the town's pride in the purity of its one undiscredited important citizen began to dim down and flicker toward extinction.
Six days passed, then came more news. The old couple were dying. Richards's mind cleared in his latest hour, and he sent for Burgess. Burgess said:
"Let the room be cleared. I think he wishes to say something in privacy."
"No!" said Richards; "I want witnesses. I want you all to hear my confession, so that I may die a man, and not a dog. I was clean-- artificially--like the rest; and like the rest I fell when temptation came. I signed a lie, and claimed the miserable sack. Mr. Burgess remembered that I had done him a service, and in gratitude (and ignorance) he suppressed my claim and saved me. You know the thing that was charged against Burgess years ago. My testimony, and mine alone, could have cleared him, and I was a coward and left him to suffer disgrace--"
"No--no--Mr. Richards, you--"
"My servant betrayed my secret to him--"
"No one has betrayed anything to me--"
- "And then he did a natural and justifiable thing; he repented of the saving kindness which he had done me, and he EXPOSED me--as I deserved--"
"Never!--I make oath--"
"Out of my heart I forgive him."
Burgess's impassioned protestations fell upon deaf ears; the dying man passed away without knowing that once more he had done poor Burgess a wrong. The old wife died that night.
The last of the sacred Nineteen had fallen a prey to the fiendish sack; the town was stripped of the last rag of its ancient glory. Its mourning was not showy, but it was deep.
By act of the Legislature--upon prayer and petition--Hadleyburg was allowed to change its name to (never mind what--I will not give it away), and leave one word out of the motto that for many generations had graced the town's official seal.
It is an honest town once more, and the man will have to rise early that catches it napping again.
 
回家以后，大家的祝贺和恭维把理查兹夫妇一直折磨到半夜。然后才剩下他们两个人了。他们脸上挂着一丝悲哀，一声不响地坐着想心事。后来玛丽叹了一口气说：
“你说这能怪罪咱们吗，爱德华——真能怪罪咱们？”她转眼望着躺在桌子上前来声讨的三张大钞；刚才来道贺的人们还在这儿满怀羡慕地看、敬若神明地摸呢。爱德华没有马上回答；后来他叹了口气，犹犹豫豫地说：
“咱们——咱们也是没有办法，玛丽。这——呃，这是命中注定。所有的事情都是命中注定。”
玛丽抬起头来，愣愣地望着他，可是他没有看妻子。停了一会儿，她说：
“从前我还以为被人恭喜被人夸的滋味挺好呢。可是——现在我觉得——爱德华？”
“嗯？”
“你还想在银行里呆着吗？”
“不……不想了。
“想辞职？”
“明天上午吧——书面的。”
“这样办也许最保险了。”
理查兹用两只手捧着脑袋，喃喃地说：
“从前，别人的钱像水一样哗哗地流过我手上，我心里从来不打鼓，可是——玛丽，我太累了，太累了——”
“咱们睡吧。”
早上九点钟，陌生人来取那只口袋，装在一辆马车里运到旅馆去了。十点钟，哈克尼斯和他私下交谈了一会。陌生人索要到手五张由一家都市银行承兑的支票——都是开给“持票人”的——四张每张一干五百元的，一张三万四千元的。他把一张一千五百元的放进钱包，把剩下总共三万八千五百元全都装进一个信封；还在信封里夹了一张在哈克尼斯走后写的字条。十一点钟时，他来到理查兹家敲门。理查兹太太从百叶窗缝里偷偷地看了看，然后去把信封接了过来，那位陌生人一言不发地走了。她回来时满脸通红，两条腿磕磕绊绊，气喘吁吁地说：
“我敢保证，我认出他来了！昨天晚上我就觉得从前可能在哪儿见过他。”
“他就是送口袋来的那个人吗？”
“十有八九。”
“如此说来，他也就是那个化名史蒂文森的了，他用那个编造的秘密把镇上的所有头面人物都毁了。现在，只要他送来的是支票，不是现款，咱们也就毁了，原先咱们还以为已经躲过去了呢。睡了一夜，我刚刚觉得心里踏实了一点，可是一看见那个信封我又难受起来。这信封不够厚；装八千五百块钱，就算都是最大的票子，也要比这厚一点儿。”
“爱德华，你为什么不愿要支票呢？”
“史蒂文森签字的支票！假如这八千五百块钱是现钞，我也认了——因为那还像是命中注定的，玛丽——我的胆子向来就不大，我可没有勇气试试拿一张签了这个招灾惹事名字的支票去兑现。那准是一个陷阱。那人本想套住我；咱们好歹总算躲过去了；现在他又想了一个新花招。如果是支票的话——”
“唉，爱德华，真是糟透了！”她举着支票，嚷了起来。
“扔到火里去！快点儿！咱们千万别上当。这是把咱们和那些人绑在一起，让大家都来耻笑咱们的奸计，还有——快给我吧，你干不了这种事情！”他抓过支票，正想紧紧攥住，一口气送到炉火里去；可是他毕竟是凡夫俗子，而且是干出纳这一行的，于是他停顿了一下，核实支票上的签名。不看则已，一看，他差点儿昏了过去。
“给我透透气，玛丽，给我透透气！这就像金子一样呀！”
“噢，那太好了。爱德华！为什么？”
“支票是哈克尼斯签的。这究竟是搞的什么鬼呀，玛丽？”
“爱德华，你想是——”
“你看——看看这个！一千五——一千五——一千五——三万四。三万八千五百！玛丽，那一口袋东西本来不值12块钱，可是哈克尼斯——显然是他——却当作货真价实的金币付了钱。”
“你是说，这些钱全都是咱们的——不只是那一万块钱？”
“嗯，好像是这么回事。而且支票还是开给‘持票人’的。”
“这有什么好处吗，爱德华？到底是怎么回事啊？”
“我看，这是暗示咱们到远处的银行去提款。也许哈克尼斯不愿意让别人知道这件事。那是什么——一张字条？”
“是呀。是和支票夹在一起的。”
字条上是“史蒂文森”的笔迹，可是没有签名。那上面说：
“我失算了。你的诚实超越了诱惑力所能及的范围。对此我本来有截然不同的看法，但是在这一点上我错看了你，我请你原谅，诚心诚意地请你原谅。我向你表示敬意——同样是诚心诚意的。这个镇子上的其他人不如你的一个小手指头。亲爱的先生，我和自己正正经经地打过一个赌，赌的是能把你们这个自高自大的镇子上十九位先生拉下水。我输了。拿走全部赌注吧，这是你应得的。”
理查兹深深地叹了一口气说：
“这好像是用火写的——真烫人哪。玛丽——我又难受起来了。”
“我也是。啊，亲爱的，但愿——”
“你想想看，玛丽——他竟然信得过我。”
“噢，别这样，爱德华——我受不了。”
“要是咱们真能担当得起这些美言，玛丽——老天有眼，我从前的确担当得起呀——我想，我情愿不要这四万块钱。那样我就会把这封信收藏起来，看得比金银财宝还珍贵，永远保存。可是现在——有它像影子一样在身边声讨咱们，这日子就没法过了，玛丽。”
他把字条扔进了火中。
来了一个信差，送了一封信来。
理查兹从信封里抽出一张纸念了起来；信是伯杰斯写来的。
在困难日子里，你救过我。昨天晚上，我救了你。这样做是以撒谎为代价的，但是做出这个牺牲我无怨无悔，而且是出于内心的感激之情。这个镇子上没有谁能像我一样深知你何等勇敢、何等善良、何等高尚。你心底里不会看得起我，因为我做的那件事是千夫所指，这你也明白；不过请你相信，我起码是个知恩必报的人；这能帮助我承受精神负担。
伯杰斯（签名）
“又救了咱们一命。还要这种条件！”他把信扔进火里。“我——我想真还不如死了，玛丽，我真想无牵无挂。”
“唉；这日子真难过，爱德华。一刀刀捅到咱们心窝子上，还要他们格外开恩——真是现世现报哇！”
选举日前三天，两千名选民每人忽然获赠纪念品一件——一块大名鼎鼎的双头鹰假金币。它的一面印了一圈字，内容如下：“我对那位不幸的外乡人说的话是——”另一面印的是：“去吧，改了就好。平克顿（签名）。”于是那场著名闹剧的残羹剩饭就一古脑儿泼在了一个人头上，随之而来的则是灾难性后果。刚刚过去的那次哄堂大笑得以重演，矛头直指平克顿；于是哈克尼斯的竞选也就马到成功了。
理查兹夫妇收到支票的一昼夜之后，他们的良心已经逐渐安稳下来，只是还打不起精神；这对老夫妻慢慢学会了在负罪的同时心安理得。不过有一件事他们还须学会适应，那就是：罪孽仍有可能被人觉察的时候，负罪感就会形成新的、实实在在的恐怖。这样一来，负罪感就以活生生的、极为具体而又引人注目的面貌呈现出来。教堂里的晨祷布道是司空见惯的程序，牧师说得是老一套，做的也是老一套。这些话他们早就听过一千遍了，觉得都是废话，和没说一样，越听越容易打瞌睡；可是现在却不同了：布道词好像成了带刺的檄文，好像是指着鼻子骂那些罪大恶极而又想蒙混过关的人。晨祷一散，他们尽快甩开那些说恭维话的人，撒腿就往家里跑，只觉得寒气一直钻到骨头缝里，这种感觉——一种影影绰绰、隐隐约约、模模糊糊的恐惧，连他们自己都说不清楚。碰巧他们又瞥见了在街角处的伯杰斯先生。他们点头和他打招呼，可他没有搭理！其实他是没有看见，可他们并不知道。他这样做是什么意思呢？可能是——可能是——哎呀，可能有好多层可怕的意思。也许他本来知道理查兹可以还他一个清白，却不动声色地等待时机秋后算账？回到家里，他们忧心忡忡，不由得猜想那天晚上理查兹对妻子透露伯杰斯无罪的秘密时，他们的佣人也许在隔壁房间里听见了；紧接着，理查兹开始想像当时他听到那个房间里有衣服窸窸窣窣的响声；接下来他就确信真的听到过。他们找个借口叫莎拉来，察言观色：假如她向伯杰斯先生出卖了他们，从她的行为举止就能看得出来。他们问了她几个问题——问得不着边际、前言不搭后语，听起来毫无目的，让那姑娘觉得这对老夫妻一定是让飞来横财冲昏了头脑。他们用犀利的目光紧紧盯住她，把她吓坏了，事情终于弄假成真。她满脸通红，神经紧张，惶恐不安。在两个老人眼里，这就是做贼心虚的明证——她犯的总归是一桩弥天大罪——毫无疑问，她是一个奸细，是一个叛徒。莎拉离开以后，他们开始把许多毫无关联的事情东拉西扯，凑在一起，得出了可怕的结论。等到形势糟到无以复加的地步，理查兹忽然倒抽了一口冷气；他的妻子问：
“唉，怎么回事？——怎么回事？”
“那封信——伯杰斯的信！话里话外都是挖苦，我刚刚明白过来。”他复述着信里的话，“‘你心底里不会看得起我，因为我做的那件事是千夫所指，这你也明白’——啊，现在再清楚不过了，老天保佑吧！他知道我明白！你看他字眼用得多有学问。这是个陷阱——我瞎了眼，偏要走进去！玛丽，你——？”
“唉，这太可怕了——我知道你想说什么——他没把你的那份假对证词还给咱们。”
“没有——他是要攥在手里整治咱们。玛丽，他已经跟别人揭了我的底。我明白——我全明白了。做完晨祷以后，我在好多人脸上都看出这层意思来了。啊，咱们和他点头打招呼，他不搭理——干过什么他自己心里有数！”
那天夜里请来了大夫。第二天早上消息传开，说这对老夫妻病得很厉害——大夫说，他们是因为得了那笔外财过于激动，再加上恭喜的人太多，贪了点夜，积劳成疾了。镇上的人都真心实意地为他们难过；因为现在差不多只剩下这对老夫妻能让大家引以为荣了。
两天以后，消息更糟了。这对老夫妻脑子有了毛病，做起了怪事。据护士亲眼所见，理查兹摆弄过几张支票——是那八千五百块钱吗？不对——是个惊人的数目——三万八千块钱！这么大的数目总要有个说法吧？
第二天，护士们又传出了消息——古怪的消息。为了避免对病人不利，她们已经决定要把支票藏起来，可是等她们去找的时候，支票已经不在病人的枕头下面——失踪了。病人说：
“别动枕头啊；你想找什么？”
“我们想最好把支票——”
“你们别想再看见支票了——已经毁掉了。支票是从魔鬼那儿来的。我看见上面都盖着地狱的大印，我知道，送这些支票来是引我作孽呀。”然后，他又絮絮叨叨地说了一些又古怪又吓人的话，别人也不大明白，医生告诫他们，这些话不要外传。
理查兹说的是真话；那些支票再也没有人看到过。
必定是哪个护士梦中说走了嘴，因为不出两天，那些不宜外传的絮语已经满镇皆知，让人大吃一惊。那些话好像是说理查兹自己也申领过那一袋钱，但是被伯杰斯瞒了下来，然后又不怀好意地泄露出去。
伯杰斯为此受到了责难，但是他自己坚决否认有这回事。他说，拿一个重病老汉神志不清的胡言乱语当真，这可不公平。可是，说归说，猜疑还是满天飞，流言还是越来越多。
一两天以后，有消息说理查兹太太说的胡话逐渐成了她丈夫胡话的翻版。于是猜疑越来越重，以至变成了确定无疑的事情，全镇为惟一保持晚节的要人清正廉洁感到自豪的烈焰开始降温，苟延残喘了一阵儿之后，渐趋熄灭。
六天过去，又传来了新的消息。这对老夫妻要咽气了。到了弥留之际，理查兹神志忽然清醒起来，他叫人去请了伯杰斯。伯杰斯说：
“请大家都出去一下。我想，他是要私下说点儿事情。”
“不！”理查兹说，“我要有人在场。我要你们都来听一听我的忏悔，好让我死得像个人样儿，别死得像一条狗。我诚实——和其他人一样，是假装诚实；我也和其他人一样，一碰上诱惑就站不住脚了。我签署过一纸谎言，申领过那个倒霉的钱袋。伯杰斯先生记得我帮过他一次忙，因为想回报（也因为他糊涂），他把我的申领信藏起来，救了我。你们都知道好多年以前大家怪罪伯杰斯的那件事。我的证词，也只有我自己，本来能够给他洗刷污点，可我是个胆小鬼，听任他蒙受不白之冤——”
“不——不——理查兹先生，你——”
“我的佣人把我的秘密出卖给他——”
“没人向我出卖过——”
“他就做了一件又自然又合理的事情，他后悔不该好心救我，就揭了我的底——我是自作自受——”
“从来没有的事！——我发誓——”
“我真心原谅他了。”
伯杰斯热情的辩解白费口舌；这个临死的人直到断气也不明白自己又坑了可怜的伯杰斯一次。他的老伴那天晚上也咽了气。
十九家圣人中硕果仅存的一位也被那只惨无人道的钱袋吞吃了；哈德莱堡昔日辉煌的最后一块遮羞布落了地。为此，它的哀伤虽然不算显眼，却相当深重。
由于人们的恳求和请愿，州议会通过了法令——允许哈德莱堡更名为——（不要管它是什么名字了——恕不透露），而且还从世世代代刻在该镇官印上的那句箴言中删去了一个字。
原官印：引导吾等免受诱惑 现官印：引导吾等受诱惑
它又是一个诚实的小镇了，假如您想再钻一次老虎打盹的空子，一定要起早才行。