When the Sleeper Wakes Read online

  CHAPTER XI. THE OLD MAN WHO KNEW EVERYTHING

  He was startled by a cough close at hand.

  He turned sharply, and peering, saw a small, hunched-up figure sitting acouple of yards off in the shadow of the enclosure.

  "Have ye any news?" asked the high-pitched wheezy voice of a very oldman.

  Graham hesitated. "None," he said.

  "I stay here till the lights come again," said the old man. "These bluescoundrels are everywhere--everywhere."

  Graham's answer was inarticulate assent. He tried to see the old man butthe darkness hid his face. He wanted very much to respond, to talk, buthe did not know how to begin.

  "Dark and damnable," said the old man suddenly. "Dark and damnable.Turned out of my room among all these dangers."

  "That's hard," ventured Graham. "That's hard on you."

  "Darkness. An old man lost in the darkness. And all the world gone mad.War and fighting. The police beaten and rogues abroad. Why don't theybring some negroes to protect us?... No more dark passages for me. Ifell over a dead man."

  "You're safer with company," said the old man, "if it's company ofthe right sort," and peered frankly. He rose suddenly and came towardsGraham.

  Apparently the scrutiny was satisfactory. The old man sat down as ifrelieved to be no longer alone. "Eh!" he said, "but this is a terribletime! War and fighting, and the dead lying there--men, strong men, dyingin the dark. Sons! I have three sons. God knows where they are tonight."

  The voice ceased. Then repeated quavering: "God knows where they aretonight."

  Graham stood revolving a question that should not betray his ignorance.Again the old man's voice ended the pause.

  "This Ostrog will win," he said. "He will win. And what the world willbe like under him no one can tell. My sons are under the wind-vanes,all three. One of my daughters-in-law was his mistress for a while.His mistress! We're not common people. Though they've sent me to wandertonight and take my chance.... I knew what was going on. Before mostpeople. But this darkness! And to fall over a dead body suddenly in thedark!"

  His wheezy breathing could be heard.

  "Ostrog!" said Graham.

  "The greatest Boss the world has ever seen," said the voice.

  Graham ransacked his mind. "The Council has few friends among thepeople," he hazarded.

  "Few friends. And poor ones at that. They've had their time. Eh! Theyshould have kept to the clever ones. But twice they held election. AndOstrog. And now it has burst out and nothing can stay it, nothing canstay it. Twice they rejected Ostrog--Ostrog the Boss. I heard of hisrages at the time--he was terrible. Heaven save them! For nothing onearth can now, he has raised the Labour Companies upon them. No one elsewould have dared. All the blue canvas armed and marching! He will gothrough with it. He will go through."

  He was silent for a little while. "This Sleeper," he said, and stopped.

  "Yes," said Graham. "Well?"

  The senile voice sank to a confidential whisper, the dim, pale face cameclose. "The real Sleeper--"

  "Yes," said Graham.

  "Died years ago."

  "What?" said Graham, sharply.

  "Years ago. Died. Years ago."

  "You don't say so!" said Graham.

  "I do. I do say so. He died. This Sleeper who's woke up--they changed inthe night. A poor, drugged insensible creature. But I mustn't tell all Iknow. I mustn't tell all I know."

  For a little while he muttered inaudibly. His secret was too much forhim. "I don't know the ones that put him to sleep--that was before mytime--but I know the man who injected the stimulants and woke him again.It was ten to one--wake or kill. Wake or kill. Ostrog's way."

  Graham was so astonished at these things that he had to interrupt, tomake the old man repeat his words, to re-question vaguely, before he wassure of the meaning and folly of what he heard. And his awakening hadnot been natural! Was that an old man's senile superstition, too, orhad it any truth in it? Feeling in the dark corners of his memory, hepresently came on something that might conceivably be an impression ofsome such stimulating effect. It dawned upon him that he had happenedupon a lucky encounter, that at last he might learn something of thenew age. The old man wheezed a while and spat, and then the piping,reminiscent voice resumed:

  "The first time they rejected him. I've followed it all."

  "Rejected whom?" said Graham. "The Sleeper?"

  "Sleeper? No. Ostrog. He was terrible--terrible! And he was promisedthen, promised certainly the next time. Fools they were--not to be moreafraid of him. Now all the city's his millstone, and such as we dustground upon it. Dust ground upon it. Until he set to work--the workerscut each other's throats, and murdered a Chinaman or a Labour policemanat times, and left the rest of us in peace. Dead bodies! Robbing!Darkness! Such a thing hasn't been this gross of years. Eh!--but 'tisill on small folks when the great fall out! It's ill."

  "Did you say--there had not been what?--for a gross of years?"

  "Eh?" said the old man.

  The old man said something about clipping his words, and made him repeatthis a third time. "Fighting and slaying, and weapons in hand, and foolsbawling freedom and the like," said the old man. "Not in all my life hasthere been that. These are like the old days--for sure--when the Parispeople broke out--three gross of years ago. That's what I mean hasn'tbeen. But it's the world's way. It had to come back. I know. I know.This five years Ostrog has been working, and there has been trouble andtrouble, and hunger and threats and high talk and arms. Blue canvas andmurmurs. No one safe. Everything sliding and slipping. And now here weare! Revolt and fighting, and the Council come to its end."

  "You are rather well-informed on these things," said Graham.

  "I know what I hear. It isn't all Babble Machine with me."

  "No," said Graham, wondering what Babble Machine might be. "And you arecertain this Ostrog--you are certain Ostrog organised this rebellion andarranged for the waking of the Sleeper? Just to assert himself--becausehe was not elected to the Council?

  "Everyone knows that, I should think," said the old man. "Except--justfools. He meant to be master somehow. In the Council or not. Everyonewho knows anything knows that. And here we are with dead bodies lyingin the dark! Why, where have you been if you haven't heard all aboutthe trouble between Ostrog and the Verneys? And what do you think thetroubles are about? The Sleeper? Eh? You think the Sleeper's real andwoke of his own accord--eh?"

  "I'm a dull man, older than I look, and forgetful," said Graham. "Lotsof things that have happened--especially of late years--. If I was theSleeper, to tell you the truth, I couldn't know less about them."

  "Eh!" said the voice. "Old, are you? You don't sound so very old! Butits not everyone keeps his memory to my time of life--truly. But thesenotorious things! But you're not so old as me--not nearly so old as me.Well! I ought not to judge other men by myself, perhaps. I'm young--forso old a man. Maybe you're old for so young."

  "That's it," said Graham. "And I've a queer history. I know very little.And history! Practically I know no history. The Sleeper and JuliusCaesar are all the same to me. It's interesting to hear you talk ofthese things."

  "I know a few things," said the old man. "I know a thing or two. But--.Hark!"

  The two men became silent, listening. There was heavy thud, a concussionthat made their seat shiver. The passers-by stopped, shouted to oneanother. The old man was full of questions; he shouted to a man whopassed near. Graham, emboldened by his example, got up and accostedothers. None knew what had happened.

  He returned to the seat and found the old man muttering vagueinterrogations in an undertone. For a while they said nothing to oneanother.

  The sense of this gigantic struggle, so near and yet so remote oppressedGraham's imagination. Was this old man right, was the report of thepeople right, and were the revolutionaries winning? Or were they all inerror, and were the red guards driving all before them? At any time theflood of warfare might pour into this silent quarter of the city andseize upon him again.
It behooved him to learn all he could while therewas time. He turned suddenly to the old man with a question and left itunsaid. But his motion moved the old man to speech again.

  "Eh! but how things work together!" said the old man. "This Sleeper thatall the fools put their trust in! I've the whole history of it--I wasalways a good one for histories. When I was a boy--I'm that old--Iused to read printed books. You'd hardly think it. Likely you've seennone--they rot and dust so--and the Sanitary Company burns them to makeashlarite. But they were convenient in their dirty way. Oh I learnt alot. These new-fangled Babble Machines--they don't seem new-fangled toyou, eh?--they're easy to hear, easy to forget. But I've traced all theSleeper business from the first."

  "You will scarcely believe it," said Graham slowly, "I'm soignorant--I've been so preoccupied in my own little affairs, mycircumstances have been so odd--I know nothing of this Sleeper'shistory. Who was he?"

  "Eh!" said the old man. "I know. I know. He was a poor nobody, and seton a playful woman, poor soul! And he fell into a trance. There's theold things they had, those brown things--silver photographs--stillshowing him as he lay, a gross and a half years ago--a gross and a halfof years."

  "Set on a playful woman, poor soul," said Graham softly to himself, andthen aloud, "Yes--well! go on."

  "You must know he had a cousin named Warming a solitary man withoutchildren, who made a big fortune speculating in roads--the firstEadhamite roads. But surely you've heard? No? Why? He bought all thepatent rights and made a big company. In those days there were grossesof grosses of separate businesses and business companies. Grosses ofgrosses! His roads killed the railroads--the old things--in two dozenyears; he bought up and Eadhamited the tracks. And because he didn'twant to break up his great property or let in shareholders, he left itall to the Sleeper, and put it under a Board of Trustees that he hadpicked and trained. He knew then the Sleeper wouldn't wake, that hewould go on sleeping, sleeping till he died. He knew that quite well!And plump! a man in the United States, who had lost two sons in a boataccident, followed that up with another great bequest. His trusteesfound themselves with a dozen myriads of lions'-worth or more ofproperty at the very beginning."

  "What was his name?"

  "Graham."

  "No, I mean--that American's."

  "Isbister."

  "Isbister!" cried Graham. "Why, I don't even know the name."

  "Of course not," said the old man. "Of course not. People don't learnmuch in the schools nowadays. But I know all about him. He was a richAmerican who went from England, and he left the Sleeper even more thanWarming. How he made it? That I don't know. Something about pictures bymachinery. But he made it and left it, and so the Council had its start.It was just a council of trustees at first."

  "And how did it grow?"

  "Eh!--but you're not up to things. Money attracts money--and twelvebrains are better than one. They played it cleverly. They workedpolitics with money, and kept on adding to the money by working currencyand tariffs. They grew--they grew. And for years the twelve trusteeshid the growing of the Sleeper's estate, under double names and companytitles and all that. The Council spread by title deed, mortgage, share,every political party, every newspaper, they bought. If you listen tothe old stories you will see the Council growing and growing. Billionsand billions of lions at last--the Sleeper's estate. And all growingout of a whim--out of this Warming's will, and an accident to Isbister'ssons.

  "Men are strange," said the old man. "The strange, thing to me is howthe Council worked together so long. As many as twelve. But they workedin cliques from the first. And they've slipped back. In my young daysspeaking of the Council was like an ignorant man speaking of God. Wedidn't think they could do wrong. We didn't know of their women and allthat! Or else I've got wiser.

  "Men are strange," said the old man. "Here are you, young andignorant, and me--sevendy years old, and I might reasonably beforgetting--explaining it all to you short and clear.

  "Sevendy," he said, "sevendy, and I hear and see--hear better than Isee. And reason clearly, and keep myself up to all the happenings ofthings. Sevendy!

  "Life is strange. I was twaindy before Ostrog was a baby. I remember himlong before he'd pushed his way to the head of the Wind Vanes Control.I've seen many changes. Eh! I've worn the blue. And at last I've come tosee this crush and darkness and tumult and dead men carried by in heapson the ways. And all his doing! All his doing!"

  His voice died away in scarcely articulate praises of Ostrog.

  Graham thought. "Let me see," he said, "if I have it right."

  He extended a hand and ticked off points upon his fingers. "The Sleeperhas been asleep--"

  "Changed," said the old man.

  "Perhaps. And meanwhile the Sleeper's property grew in the hands ofTwelve Trustees, until it swallowed up nearly all the great ownership ofthe world. The Twelve Trustees--by virtue of this property have becomevirtually masters of the world. Because they are the paying power--justas the old English Parliament used to be--"

  "Eh!" said the old man. "That's so--that's a good comparison. You're notso--"

  "And now this Ostrog--has suddenly revolutionised the world by wakingthe Sleeper--whom no one but the superstitious, common people had everdreamt would wake again--raising the Sleeper to claim his property fromthe Council, after all these years."

  The old man endorsed this statement with a cough. "It's strange,"he said, "to meet a man who learns these things for the first timetonight."

  "Aye," said Graham, "it's strange."

  "Have you been in a Pleasure City?" said the old man. "All my life I'velonged--" He laughed. "Even now," he said, "I could enjoy a littlefun. Enjoy seeing things, anyhow." He mumbled a sentence Graham did notunderstand.

  "The Sleeper--when did he awake?" said Graham suddenly.

  "Three days ago."

  "Where is he?"

  "Ostrog has him. He escaped from the Council not four hours ago. Mydear sir, where were you at the time? He was in the hall of themarkets--where the fighting has been. All the city was screaming aboutit. All the Babble Machines! Everywhere it was shouted. Even the foolswho speak for the Council were admitting it. Everyone was rushing off tosee him--everyone was getting arms. Were you drunk or asleep? And eventhen! But you're joking! Surely you're pretending. It was to stop theshouting of the Babble Machines and prevent the people gathering thatthey turned off the electricity--and put this damned darkness upon us.Do you mean to say--?"

  "I had heard the Sleeper was rescued," said Graham. "But--to come back aminute. Are you sure Ostrog has him?"

  "He won't let him go," said the old man.

  "And the Sleeper. Are you sure he is not genuine? I have never heard--"

  "So all the fools think. So they think. As if there wasn't a thousandthings that were never heard. I know Ostrog too well for that. DidI tell you? In a way I'm a sort of relation of Ostrog's. A sort ofrelation. Through my daughter-in-law."

  "I suppose--"

  "Well?"

  "I suppose there's no chance of this Sleeper asserting himself. Isuppose he's certain to be a puppet--in Ostrog's hands or the Council's,as soon as the struggle is over."

  "In Ostrog's hands--certainly. Why shouldn't he be a puppet? Look at hisposition. Everything done for him, every pleasure possible. Why shouldhe want to assert himself?"

  "What are these Pleasure Cities?" said Graham, abruptly.

  The old man made him repeat the question. When at last he was assuredof Graham's words, he nudged him violently. "That's too much," said he."You're poking fun at an old man. I've been suspecting you know morethan you pretend."

  "Perhaps I do," said Graham. "But no! why should I go on acting? No, Ido not know what a Pleasure City is."

  The old man laughed in an intimate way.

  "What is more, I do not know how to read your letters, I do not knowwhat money you use, I do not know what foreign countries there are. Ido not know where I am. I cannot count. I do not know where to get food,nor drink, nor shelter."

>   "Come, come," said the old man, "if you had a glass of drink, now, wouldyou put it in your ear or your eye?"

  "I want you to tell me all these things."

  "He, he! Well, gentlemen who dress in silk must have their fun." Awithered hand caressed Graham's arm for a moment. "Silk. Well, well!But, all the same, I wish I was the man who was put up as the Sleeper.He'll have a fine time of it. All the pomp and pleasure. He's a queerlooking face. When they used to let anyone go to see him, I've gottickets and been. The image of the real one, as the photographs showhim, this substitute used to be. Yellow. But he'll get fed up. It's aqueer world. Think of the luck of it. The luck of it. I expect he'll besent to Capri. It's the best fun for a greener."

  His cough overtook him again. Then he began mumbling enviously ofpleasures and strange delights. "The luck of it, the luck of it! All mylife I've been in London, hoping to get my chance."

  "But you don't know that the Sleeper died," said Graham, suddenly.

  The old man made him repeat his words.

  "Men don't live beyond ten dozen. It's not in the order of things," saidthe old man. "I'm not a fool. Fools may believe it, but not me."

  Graham became angry with the old man's assurance. "Whether you are afool or not," he said, "it happens you are wrong about the Sleeper."

  "Eh?"

  "You are wrong about the Sleeper. I haven't told you before, but I willtell you now. You are wrong about the Sleeper."

  "How do you know? I thought you didn't know anything--not even aboutPleasure Cities."

  Graham paused.

  "You don't know," said the old man. "How are you to know? It's very fewmen--"

  "I _am_ the Sleeper."

  He had to repeat it.

  There was a brief pause. "There's a silly thing to say, sir, if you'llexcuse me. It might get you into trouble in a time like this," said theold man. Graham, slightly dashed, repeated his assertion.

  "I was saying I was the Sleeper. That years and years ago I did, indeed,fall asleep, in a little stonebuilt village, in the days when there werehedgerows, and villages, and inns, and all the countryside cut up intolittle pieces, little fields. Have you never heard of those days? And itis I--I who speak to you--who awakened again these four days since."

  "Four days since!--the Sleeper! But they've got the Sleeper. They havehim and they won't let him go. Nonsense! You've been talking sensiblyenough up to now. I can see it as though I was there. There will beLincoln like a keeper just behind him; they won't let him go aboutalone. Trust them. You're a queer fellow. One of these fun pokers. I seenow why you have been clipping your words so oddly, but--"

  He stopped abruptly, and Graham could see his gesture.

  "As if Ostrog would let the Sleeper run about alone! No, you're tellingthat to the wrong man altogether. Eh! as if I should believe. What'syour game? And besides, we've been talking of the Sleeper."

  Graham stood up. "Listen," he said. "I am the Sleeper."

  "You're an odd man," said the old man, "to sit here in the dark, talkingclipped, and telling a lie of that sort. But--"

  Graham's exasperation fell to laughter. "It is preposterous," he cried."Preposterous. The dream must end. It gets wilder and wilder. Here amI--in this damned twilight--I never knew a dream in twilight before--ananachronism by two hundred years and trying to persuade an old fool thatI am myself, and meanwhile--Ugh!"

  He moved in gusty irritation and went striding. In a moment the old manwas pursuing him. "Eh! but don't go!" cried the old man. "I'm an oldfool, I know. Don't go. Don't leave me in all this darkness."

  Graham hesitated, stopped. Suddenly the folly of telling his secretflashed into his mind.

  "I didn't mean to offend you--disbelieving you," said the old man comingnear. "It's no manner of harm. Call yourself the Sleeper if it pleasesyou. 'Tis a foolish trick."

  Graham hesitated, turned abruptly and went on his way.

  For a time he heard the old man's hobbling pursuit and his wheezy criesreceding. But at last the darkness swallowed him, and Graham saw him nomore.