A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, Mark Twain [diy ebook reader .txt] 📗

“The Church is master now.  The Interdict included you with Mordred; it is not to be removed while you remain alive.  The clans are gathering.  The Church has gathered all the knights that are left alive, and as soon as you are discovered we shall have business on our hands.”

“Stuff!  With our deadly scientific war-material; with our hosts of trained—”

“Save your breath—we haven’t sixty faithful left!”

“What are you saying?  Our schools, our colleges, our vast workshops, our—”

“When those knights come, those establishments will empty themselves and go over to the enemy.  Did you think you had educated the superstition out of those people?”

“I certainly did think it.”

“Well, then, you may unthink it.  They stood every strain easily—until the Interdict.  Since then, they merely put on a bold outside—at heart they are quaking.  Make up your mind to it—when the armies come, the mask will fall.”

“It’s hard news.  We are lost.  They will turn our own science against us.”

“No they won’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I and a handful of the faithful have blocked that game. I’ll tell you what I’ve done, and what moved me to it.  Smart as you are, the Church was smarter.  It was the Church that sent you cruising—through her servants, the doctors.”

“Clarence!”

“It is the truth.  I know it.  Every officer of your ship was the Church’s picked servant, and so was every man of the crew.”

“Oh, come!”

“It is just as I tell you.  I did not find out these things at once, but I found them out finally.  Did you send me verbal information, by the commander of the ship, to the effect that upon his return to you, with supplies, you were going to leave Cadiz—”

“Cadiz!  I haven’t been at Cadiz at all!”

“—going to leave Cadiz and cruise in distant seas indefinitely, for the health of your family?  Did you send me that word?”

“Of course not.  I would have written, wouldn’t I?”

“Naturally.  I was troubled and suspicious.  When the commander sailed again I managed to ship a spy with him.  I have never heard of vessel or spy since.  I gave myself two weeks to hear from you in.  Then I resolved to send a ship to Cadiz.  There was a reason why I didn’t.”

“What was that?”

“Our navy had suddenly and mysteriously disappeared!  Also, as suddenly and as mysteriously, the railway and telegraph and telephone service ceased, the men all deserted, poles were cut down, the Church laid a ban upon the electric light!  I had to be up and doing—and straight off.  Your life was safe—nobody in these kingdoms but Merlin would venture to touch such a magician as you without ten thousand men at his back—I had nothing to think of but how to put preparations in the best trim against your coming.  I felt safe myself—nobody would be anxious to touch a pet of yours.  So this is what I did.  From our various works I selected all the men—boys I mean—whose faithfulness under whatsoever pressure I could swear to, and I called them together secretly and gave them their instructions.  There are fifty-two of them; none younger than fourteen, and none above seventeen years old.”

“Why did you select boys?”

“Because all the others were born in an atmosphere of superstition and reared in it.  It is in their blood and bones.  We imagined we had educated it out of them; they thought so, too; the Interdict woke them up like a thunderclap!  It revealed them to themselves, and it revealed them to me, too.  With boys it was different.  Such as have been under our training from seven to ten years have had no acquaintance with the Church’s terrors, and it was among these that I found my fifty-two.  As a next move, I paid a private visit to that old cave of Merlin’s—not the small one—the big one—”

“Yes, the one where we secretly established our first great electric plant when I was projecting a miracle.”

“Just so.  And as that miracle hadn’t become necessary then, I thought it might be a good idea to utilize the plant now.  I’ve provisioned the cave for a siege—”

“A good idea, a first-rate idea.”

“I think so.  I placed four of my boys there as a guard—inside, and out of sight.  Nobody was to be hurt—while outside; but any attempt to enter—well, we said just let anybody try it!  Then I went out into the hills and uncovered and cut the secret wires which connected your bedroom with the wires that go to the dynamite deposits under all our vast factories, mills, workshops, magazines, etc., and about midnight I and my boys turned out and connected that wire with the cave, and nobody but you and I suspects where the other end of it goes to.  We laid it under ground, of course, and it was all finished in a couple of hours or so.  We sha’n’t have to leave our fortress now when we want to blow up our civilization.”

“It was the right move—and the natural one; military necessity, in the changed condition of things.  Well, what changes have come! We expected to be besieged in the palace some time or other, but—however, go on.”

“Next, we built a wire fence.”

“Wire fence?”

“Yes.  You dropped the hint of it yourself, two or three years ago.”

“Oh, I remember—the time the Church tried her strength against us the first time, and presently thought it wise to wait for a hopefuler season.  Well, how have you arranged the fence?”

“I start twelve immensely strong wires—naked, not insulated—from a big dynamo in the cave—dynamo with no brushes except a positive and a negative one—”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“The wires go out from the cave and fence in a circle of level ground a hundred yards in diameter; they make twelve independent fences, ten feet apart—that is to say, twelve circles within circles—and their ends come into the cave again.”

“Right; go on.”

“The fences are fastened to heavy oaken posts only three feet apart, and these posts are sunk five feet in the ground.”

“That is good and strong.”

“Yes.  The wires have no ground-connection outside of the cave. They go out from the positive brush of the dynamo; there is a ground-connection through the negative brush; the other ends of the wire return to the cave, and each is grounded independently.”

“No, no, that won’t do!”

“Why?”

“It’s too expensive—uses up force for nothing.  You don’t want any ground-connection except the one through the negative brush. The other end of every wire must be brought back into the cave and fastened independently, and without any ground-connection. Now, then, observe the economy of it.  A cavalry charge hurls itself against the fence; you are using no power, you are spending no money, for there is only one ground-connection till those horses come against the wire; the moment they touch it they form a connection with the negative brush through the ground , and drop dead.  Don’t you see?—you are using no energy until it is needed; your lightning is there, and ready, like the load in a gun; but it isn’t costing you a cent till you touch it off.  Oh, yes, the single ground-connection—”

“Of course!  I don’t know how I overlooked that.  It’s not only cheaper, but it’s more effectual than the other way, for if wires break or get tangled, no harm is done.”

“No, especially if we have a tell-tale in the cave and disconnect the broken wire.  Well, go on.  The gatlings?”

“Yes—that’s arranged.  In the center of the inner circle, on a spacious platform six feet high, I’ve grouped a battery of thirteen gatling guns, and provided plenty of ammunition.”

“That’s it.  They command every approach, and when the Church’s knights arrive, there’s going to be music.  The brow of the precipice over the cave—”

“I’ve got a wire fence there, and a gatling.  They won’t drop any rocks down on us.”

“Well, and the glass-cylinder dynamite torpedoes?”

“That’s attended to.  It’s the prettiest garden that was ever planted.  It’s a belt forty feet wide, and goes around the outer fence—distance between it and the fence one hundred yards—kind of neutral ground that space is.  There isn’t a single square yard of that whole belt but is equipped with a torpedo.  We laid them on the surface of the ground, and sprinkled a layer of sand over them.  It’s an innocent looking garden, but you let a man start in to hoe it once, and you’ll see.”

“You tested the torpedoes?”

“Well, I was going to, but—”

“But what?  Why, it’s an immense oversight not to apply a—”

“Test?  Yes, I know; but they’re all right; I laid a few in the public road beyond our lines and they’ve been tested.”

“Oh, that alters the case.  Who did it?”

“A Church committee.”

“How kind!”

“Yes.  They came to command us to make submission.  You see they didn’t really come to test the torpedoes; that was merely an incident.”

“Did the committee make a report?”

“Yes, they made one.  You could have heard it a mile.”

“Unanimous?”

“That was the nature of it.  After that I put up some signs, for the protection of future committees, and we have had no intruders since.”

“Clarence, you’ve done a world of work, and done it perfectly.”

“We had plenty of time for it; there wasn’t any occasion for hurry.”

We sat silent awhile, thinking.  Then my mind was made up, and I said:

“Yes, everything is ready; everything is shipshape, no detail is wanting.  I know what to do now.”

“So do