Part 26 (2/2)
If the group-ideas and the group-union of those calling themselves socialists, had not been so wretchedly vague, confused and based on pseudo-science and hollow rhetoric, he would perhaps have joined that brotherhood. For he had the full measure of American courage and resolution. And he would have represented the ”gentleman” in that confederacy just as well as in the old union. But, as every ”gentleman,” he had the intuitive dislike of bad company, the natural and wholesome aristocracy that makes one shun a group if it is represented by inferior people. And in the socialist herd he saw nothing much better than uncultured followers driven by fanatic leaders, a very sorry realization of the Originals who had brought about the movement. Moreover the union of this group was so weak, so entirely based upon the negative, so badly formulated, that it was impossible for him to transfer to it his natural respect for the union.
With this man, then, I considered that I might try my luck. He had grown very rich by clever, but according to group-ideas perfectly lawful money transactions, as commissioner of all sorts of large undertakings, and he had a fine mansion in Was.h.i.+ngton and in New York.
Toward me he would, as a philosopher, sometimes jokingly excuse his wealth, referring in this connection to the example of Seneca the sage.
I called on him as soon as I knew he was in New York, and was received most cordially.
Elkinson had a large, bony head upon a lean, muscular body. He was not yet sixty, and his clean-shaven face was of a youthfully fresh and ruddy complexion. His hair was snow-white, but still thick and full, parted in the middle and trimly cut. His strongly-p.r.o.nounced jawbones, large teeth and firm chin, lent him an expression of will-power and energy; the thin-lipped large mouth and the clear, gray, steady eyes commanded respect and marked the man who would not let himself be imposed upon or put out of countenance; his eyes twinkled at the slightest occasion with an expression of subtle roguishness, evidence of the general American inclination for jesting and joking.
”It is very kind of you, my dear Count Muralto, very kind indeed to look me up again. Have you been a.s.signed to the post at Was.h.i.+ngton again? And how are the countess and the children?”
”Don't bother about using my t.i.tle, Mr. Elkinson. It must be distressing to your democratic spirit.”
The mocking eyes twinkled as though they enjoyed my sally.
”On the contrary! on the contrary! - that is atavism! It does us good.
We are above such things, to be sure, but just as eager to do them as a worthy professor to sing the college songs at a reunion.”
”Then I regret that I must deprive you of this pleasure. I am no longer a count and intend to become a citizen of your republic.”
”What is that you tell me? Well, well, well! that is a remarkable decision.”
”Your enthusiasm is not as hearty as one should expect of a true American. I believe you think that something is lost by this transaction after all.”
”Perhaps I do! - Italian counts are rarer than American citizens. With these t.i.tles it's the same as with sailing vessels and feudal castles.
They are unpractical and out of date. And yet it is a pity to see one after another disappearing.”
”Would you put me into a museum and have the state support me?”
”No! No! - we are glad to make use of such excellent working powers. We need men like you. And what does madame say to it?”
”Contessa Muralto remains Contessa Muralto. I have broken completely with her and with my old life. I wish to make my position clear to you.
I have come here as an emigrant, poor, and accompanied by a woman who is my true wife, but can never be lawfully recognized as such.”
”H'm! H'm! - that is grave, very grave,” said Judge Elkinson. The roguish twinkle in his eyes vanished and he a.s.sumed the severe, inexorable expression of the judge.
Then, as simply as possible and with the trusting uprightness that would make the strongest appeal to his kind heart, I recounted the vicissitudes of my lot. Mutely he listened to my story, obviously interested and touched, wondering what to make of this cage.
”And now?” he finally asked. ”What do you expect now? I know that a deep sensibility to what we here call the tender pa.s.sion is one of your national characteristics. But after all you are no longer a boy, and you have enough sense and experience of life to know that your present position does not offer you much chance of success, not even in this country.”
”I do not expect or desire success in the American sense of the word. A frugal, existence is all I want. I shall endeavor to obtain that. By giving lessons, for example.”
”And had you hoped to be in any degree supported by me in that direction?” asked the careful and practical American.
”No! - I did not come to you for that. I have not the slightest intention of burdening my old acquaintances by presuming on our former relations.”
<script>