n the course of my travels, I remembered
the great news I was to hear concerning Shakespeare. In Cairo, at
Shepheard's, I looked eagerly through English newspapers, expecting any
moment to come upon great head-lines; but I was always disappointed. Even
on the return voyage there was no one I could find who had heard any
particular Shakespeare news.

Arriving in New York, I found that Clemens himself had published his
Shakespeare dictations in a little volume of his own, entitled, 'Is
Shakespeare Dead?' The title certainly suggested spiritistic matters,
and I got a volume at Harpers', and read it going up on the train, hoping
to find somewhere in it a solution of the great mystery. But it was only
matter I had already known; the secret was still unrevealed.

At Redding I lost not much time in getting up to Stormfield. There had
been changes in my absence. Clara Clemens had returned from her travels,
and Jean, whose health seemed improved, was coming home to be her
father's secretary. He was greatly pleased with these things, and
declared he was going to have a home once more with his children about
him.

He was quite alone that day, and we walked up and down the great
living-room for an hour, perhaps, while he discussed his new plans. For
one thing, he had incorporated his pen-name, Mark Twain, in order that
the protection of his copyrights and the conduct of his literary business
in general should not require his personal attention. He seemed to find
a relief in this, as he always did in dismissing any kind of
responsibility. When we went in for billiards I spoke of his book, which
I had read on the way up, and of the great Shakespearian secret which was
to astonish the world. Then he told me that the matter had been delayed,
but that he was no longer required to suppress it; that the revelation
was in the form of a book--a book which revealed conclusively to any one
who would take the trouble to follow the directions that the acrostic
name of Francis Bacon in a great variety of forms ran through many
--probably through all of the so-called Shakespeare plays. He said it
was far and away beyond anything of the kind ever published; that
Ignatius Donnelly and others had merely glimpsed the truth, but that the
author of this book, William Stone Booth, had demonstrated, beyond any
doubt or question, that the Bacon signatures were there. The book would
be issued in a few days, he said. He had seen a set of proofs of it, and