Free The Nightmare Had Triplets by Branch Cabell Page A

then, since your evil devices have failed, to what cause, Company, should I attribute the pleasure of your company, or perhaps,” Smirt continued, with his unfailing flair for that variousness which is the life of prose, “perhaps one had better say of your society, on this flash of lightning?”
        “It is merely that, since our management of Earth does not please you,” replied Company, as he indicated a planet now only some few million miles ahead of them, “you have here a specimen of our later style of work, which we would be delighted to present with the firm’s compliments.”
        “And what would I do with that planet, Company?”
        “Why, whatsoever you elected, Smirt, now that you have baffled my diabolical arts and retain the old gentleman’s pocket piece. For that, I must tell you, confers omnipotence—within limits.”
        “Oh, I see. The coin is a talisman which confers omnipotence—within limits. That is quite convenient.”
        Thereupon Smirt took out of his pocket the forty reis piece, and he wished for a package of cigarettes. How it happened there is no telling, but straightway the coin lay in Smirt’s hand on top of a package of cigarettes which Smirt regarded with chill disapproval. Not even in the matter of smoking did these divine beings appear intelligent.
        “Plain Virginia tobacco—along with a box of matches, please,” said Smirt long-sufferingly; and at once his will was accomplished.
        Then Smirt resumed his conversation with the Lord of Evil, saying: “Why good tobacco should ever be degraded with a mixture of Turkish tobacco is more than my limited imagination has yet been able to conceive. No, Company: I appreciate your offer, and I thank you most heartily for these cigarettes. But for me to exercise my omnipotence—even within limits—over any planet, would involve my becoming the God of that planet. It would mean responsibility. No; I very much prefer to criticize, and to disparage urbanely, the conduct of a world for which someone else is responsible.”
        “That is true, Smirt, as we have often learned to our cost. Ah, but what dashing epigrams you have made about both good and evil with that fine urbanity of yours!”
        “Oh, but come now,” Smirt comforted Company, “there was nothing personal intended. In all I have written as to your universe, I, as an Episcopalian, believed—in so far of course as any absolute conviction permitted to an Episcopalian—that neither member of your firm existed. So none of my wit and fancy and erudition was consciously aimed at either of you. I simply did not know of your existence, far less of your consolidation; but we live and learn.”
        “In fact, as the hair dwindles, Smirt, the wits increase.”
        Smirt looked at his dreadful companion for a moment. Smirt lighted a cigarette, and Smirt said,—
        “You remind me, Company, of a good story that is going the rounds.”
        “Then let us have it, Smirt, for my sense of humor is devilish keen.”
        “Stop me if you have heard this,” Smirt urged; and he continued:
        “A good story is going the rounds about a skittish banker, whose hair, in spite of all his precautions, is beginning to grow thin. His partner in business, it seems, was summoned to the telephone late one evening, and under the impression that this was a long-distance call, did not answer—”
        “Ah, yes,” said Company, “but all partners are like that. I know them. For I too have a partner; and between ourselves, Smirt, I sometimes think I might just as well have a palsy.”
        “You surprise me, Company—”
        “Oh, He has many sterling qualities, Smirt. I would be the last person to criticize my collaborator. Some people are simply born scatter-brained and muddled, and there is no doing anything whatever about it.”
        Here again, Smirt reflected, was the auctorial temperament: