Forty-four, by grace of his right to wear a swordⒶ, was legally a gentleman. It suited his whim, now, to come out dressed as one. He was clever, but ill balanced; and whenever he saw a particularly good chance to be a fool, pie couldn't persuade him to let it go by; he had to sample it, he couldn't seem to help it. He was as unpopular as he could be, but the hostileⒶ feeling, the intense bitterness, had been softening little by little for twenty-four hours, on account of the awful danger his life was in, so of course he must go andⒶ choose this time of all times, to flaunt in the faces of the comps the offensive fact that he was their social equal.Ⓐ And not only did he appear in the dress of a gentleman, but the quality and splendor of it surpassed even Doangivadam'sⒶ best, and as for the others they were mereⒶ lilies of the valley to his Solomon. Embroidered buskins, with red heels; pink silk tights; pale blue satin trunks; cloth of gold doublet; short satin cape, of a blinding red; lace collar fit for a queen; the cunningest little blue velvet cap, with a slender long feather standing up out of a fastening of clustered diamonds; dress sword in a gold sheath, jeweled hilt. That was his outfit; and he carried himself like a princeling “doing a cake-walk,” as he described it. He was as beautiful as a picture, and as satisfied with himself as if he owned the earth. He had a lace handkerchief in his hand, and now and then he would give his nose a dainty little dab or two with it, the way a duchess does. It was evident that he thought he was going to be admired, and it was pitiful to see his

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disappointment when the men broke out on him with insults and ridicule and called him offensive names, and asked him where he had stolen his clothes.

He defended himself the best he could, but he was so near to crying that he could hardly control his voice. He said he had come by the clothes honestly, through the generosity of his teacher the good magician, who created them instantly out of nothing just by uttering a single magic word; and said the magician was a far mightier enchanter than they supposed; that he hadn'tⒶ shown the world the half of the wonders he could do, and he wished he was here now, he would not like it to have his humble servant abused so when he wasn't doing any harm; said he believed if he was here he would do Katzenyammer a hurt for calling his servant a thief and threatening to slap his face.

“He would, would he? Well, there he comes—let's see if he loves his poor dear servant so much,” said Katzenyammer, and gave the boy a cruel slap that you could have heard a hundred yards.

The slap spun Forty-Four around, and as soon as he saw the magician he cried out eagerly and supplicatingly—

“Oh, noble master, oh greatest and sublimest of magicians, I read your command in your eyes, and I must obey if it is your will, but I pray you, I beseech you spare me the office, do it yourself with your own just hand!”

The magician stood still and looked steadily and mutelyⒶ at Forty-Four as much as half a minute, we waiting and gazing and holding our breath; then at last 44 made a reverent bow, saying, “You are master, your will is law, and I obey,” and turned to KatzenyammerⒶ and said—

“In not very many hours you will discover what you have brought upon yourself and the others. You will see that it is not well to offend the master.”

You have seen a cloud-shadow sweep along and sober a sunlit field; just so, that darkling vague threat was a cloud-shadow to those faces there. There is nothing that is more depressing and demoralizing than the promise ofⒶ an indefinite calamity when oneⒶ is dealing

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with a powerful and maliciousⒶ necromancer. It starts large, plenty large enough, but it does not stop there, the imagination goes on spreading it, till at last it covers all the space you've got, and takes away your appetite, and fills you with dreads and miseries, and you start at every noise and are afraid of your own shadow.

Old Katrina was sent by the women to beg 44 to tell what was going to happen so that they could get relieved of a part of the crushingⒶ burden of suspense, but she could not find him, nor the magician either. Neither of them was seen, the rest of the day. At supper there was but little talk, and no mention of the subject. In the chess-room after supper there was some private and unsociable drinking, and much deep sighing, and much getting up and walking the floor unconsciously and nervously a little while, then sitting down again unconsciously; and now and then a tortured ejaculation broke out involuntarilyⒶ. At ten o'clock nobody moved to go to bed; apparently each troubled spirit found aⒶ sort of help and solaceⒶ in the near presence of its kind, and dreaded to separate itself from companionship. At half past ten no one had stirred. At eleven the same. It was most melancholy to be there like this, in the dim light of unquiet and flickering candles and in a stillnessⒶ that was broken by but few sounds and was all the more impressive because of the moaning of the wintry wind about the towers and battlements.

It was at half past eleven that it happened. Everybody was sitting steeped in musings, absorbed in thought, listening to that dirge the wind was chanting—Katzenyammer like the rest. A heavy step was heard, all glanced up nervously, and yonder in the door appeared a duplicate KatzenyammerⒶⒶ! There was one general gasping intake of breath that nearly sucked the candles out, then the house sat paralyzed and gazing. This creature was in shop-costume, and had a “take” in its hand. It was the exact reproduction of the other Katzenyammer to the last shade and detail, a mirror couldn't have told them apart. It came marching up the room with the only gait that could be proper to it—aggressive, decided, insolent—Ⓐand held out the “take” to its twin and said—

“Here! how do you want that set, leaded, or solid?”

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For about a moment the original Katzenyammer was surprised out of himself; but the next moment he was all there, and jumped up shouting—

“You bastard of black magic, I'll”—he finished with his fist, delivering a blow on the twin's jaw that would have broken anybody else's, but this jaw stood it uncrushed; then the pair danced about the place hammering, banging, ramming each other like battering machines, everybody looking on with wonder and awe and admiration, and hoping neither of them would survive. They fought half an hour, then sat down panting, exhaustedⒶ, and streaming with blood—they hadn't strength to go on.

The pair sat glaring at each other a while, then the original said—

“Look here, my man, who are you, anyway? Answer up!”

“I'm Katzenyammer, foreman of the shop. That's who I am, if you want to know.”

“It's a lie. Have you been setting type in there?”

“Yes, I have.”

“The hell you have! who told you you could?”

“I told myself. That's sufficient.”

“Not on your life! Do you belong to the union?”

“No, I don't.”

“Then you're a scab. Boys, up and at him!”

Which they did, with a will, fuming and cursing and swearing in a way which it was an education to listen to. In another minute there would not have been anything left of that DuplicateⒶ, I reckon,Ⓐ but he promptly set up a ringing shout of “Help, boys, help!” and in the same moment perfect DuplicatesⒶ of all the restⒶ of us came swarmingⒶ in and plunged into the battle!

But it was another draw. It had to be, for each DuplicateⒶ fought his own mate and was his exact match, and neither could whip the other. Then they tried the issue with swords, but it was a draw once more. The parties drew apart, now, and acrimoniously discussed the situation. The DuplicatesⒶ refused to join the union, neither would they throw up their job; they were stubbornly deaf to both threats and persuasion. So there it was—just a deadlock! If the DuplicatesⒶ remained, the OriginalsⒶⒶ were without a living—why, they couldn't

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even collect their waiting-time, now! Their impregnable position, which they had been so proud of and so arrogant about had turned to air and vacancy. These were very grave and serious facts, cold and clammy ones; and the deeper they sank down into the consciousness of the ousted men the colder and clammier they became.

It was a hard situation, and pitiful. A person may say that the men had only gotten what they deserved, but when that is said is all said? I think not. They were only human beings, they had been foolish, they deserved some punishment, but to take their very bread was surely a punishment beyond the measure of their fault. But there it was—the disaster was come, the calamity had fallen, and no man could see a way out of the difficulty. The more one examined it the more perplexing and baffling and irremediable it seemed. And all so unjust, so unfair; for in the talk it came out that the DuplicatesⒶ did not need to eat or drink or sleep,Ⓐ so long as the OriginalsⒶ did those things—there was enough for both; but when a Duplicate did them, by George,Ⓐ his OriginalⒶ got no benefit out of it! Then look at that other thing: the OriginalsⒶ were out of work and wageless, yet they would be supporting these intruding scabs, out of theirⒶⒶ food and drink, and by graciousⒶ not even a thank-you for it!Ⓐ It came out that the scabs got no pay for their work in the shop, and didn't care for it and wouldn't ask for it. Doangivadam finally hit upon a fair and honorable compromise, as he thought, and the boys came up a little out of their droop to listen. Doangivadam's idea was, for the Duplicates to do the work, and for the OriginalsⒶⒶ to take the pay, and fairly and honorably eatⒶ and sleep enough for both. It looked bright and hopeful for a moment, but then the clouds settled down again:Ⓐ the plan wouldn't answer; it would not be lawful for unions and scabs to have dealings together. So that idea had to be given up, and everybody was gloomier than ever. Meantime Katzenyammer had been drinking hard, to drown his exasperations, but it wasⒶ not effective, he couldn't seem to hold enough, and yet he was full. He was only half drunk; the trouble was, that his DuplicateⒶ had gottenⒶ the other half of the dividend, and was just as drunk, and as insufficiently drunk, as he was. When he realized this he was deeply hurt, and said reproachfully to his DuplicateⒶ,Ⓐ

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who sat there blinkingⒶ and suffused with a divine contentment—Ⓐ

“Nobody asked you to partake; such conductⒶ is grossly ill-bred; no gentleman would do such a thing.”

Some were sorry for the DuplicateⒶ, for he was not to blame, but several of the OriginalsⒶ were evidently not sorry for him, but offended at him and ashamed of him. But the DuplicateⒶ was not affected, he did not say anything, but just blinkedⒶ and looked drowsy and grateful, the same as before.

The talk went on, but it arrived nowhere, of course. The situation remained despairingly incurable and desperate. Then the talk turned upon the magician and 44, and quickly became bitter and vengeful. When it was at its sharpest, the magician came mooning in; and when he saw all those DuplicatesⒶ he was either thunderstruck with amazement or he played it well. The men were vexed to see him act so, and they said, indignantly—

“It's your own fiendish work and you needn't be pretending surprise.”

He was frightened at their looks and their manner, and hastened to deny, with energy and apparent earnestness, that this was any work of his; he said he had given a quite different command, and he only wished 44 were hereⒶ, he would keep his word and burn him to ashes for misusing his enchantments; he said he would go and find him; and was starting away, but they jumped in front of him and barred his way, and Katzenyammer-originalⒶ was furious, and said—

“You are trying to escape, but you'll not! You don't have to stir out of your tracks to produce that limb of perdition, and you know it and we know it. Summon him—summon him and destroy him, or I give my honor I will denounce you to the Holy Office!”

That was a plenty. The poor old man got white and shaky, and put up his hand and mumbled some strange words, and in an instant, bang! went a thunderclap, and there stood 44 in the midst, dainty and gay in his butterfly clothes!

All sprang up with horror in their faces to protest, for at bottom no one really wanted the boy destroyed, they only believed they did; there was a scream, and Katrina came flying, with her gray hair

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streaming behind her; for one moment a blot of black darkness fell upon the place and extinguished us all; the next moment in our midst stood that slender figure transformed to a core of dazzling white fire; in the succeeding moment it crumbled to ashes and we were blotted out in the black darkness again. Out of it rose an adoring cry—broken in the middle by a pause and a sob—

“The Lord gave, the Lord hath taken awayⒺ . . . . . . . blessed be the name of the Lord!”

It was Katrina; it was the faithful Christian parting with its all, yet still adoring the smitingⒶ hand.