life in the iron-mills-第8部分

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men　there。　　He　knew　how　in　these　long　years　he　should　slowly

die；　but　not　until　soul　and　body　had　become　corrupt　and

rotten；how；　when　he　came　out；　if　he　lived　to　come；　even　the

lowest　of　the　mill…hands　would　jeer　him；how　his　hands　would　be

weak；　and　his　brain　senseless　and　stupid。　　He　believed　he　was

almost　that　now。　　He　put　his　hand　to　his　head；　with　a　puzzled；

weary　look。　　It　ached；　his　head；　with　thinking。　　He　tried　to

quiet　himself。　　It　was　only　right；　perhaps；　he　had　done　wrong。

But　was　there　right　or　wrong　for　such　as　he？　　What　was　right？

And　who　had　ever　taught　him？　　He　thrust　the　whole　matter　away。

A　dark；　cold　quiet　crept　through　his　brain。　　It　was　all　wrong；

but　let　it　be！　　It　was　nothing　to　him　more　than　the　others。　　Let

it　be！



The　door　grated；　as　Haley　opened　it。



〃Come；　my　woman！　　Must　lock　up　for　t'　night。　　Come；　stir

yerself！〃



She　went　up　and　took　Hugh's　hand。



〃Good…night；　Deb；〃　he　said；　carelessly。



She　had　not　hoped　he　would　say　more；　but　the　tired　pain　on　her

mouth　just　then　was　bitterer　than　death。　　She　took　his　passive

hand　and　kissed　it。



〃Hur'll　never　see　Deb　again！〃　she　ventured；　her　lips　growing

colder　and　more　bloodless。



What　did　she　say　that　for？　　Did　he　not　know　it？　　Yet　he　would

not　be　impatient　with　poor　old　Deb。　　She　had　trouble　of　her　own；

as　well　as　he。



〃No；　never　again；〃　he　said；　trying　to　be　cheerful。



She　stood　just　a　moment；　looking　at　him。　　Do　you　laugh　at　her；

standing　there；　with　her　hunchback；　her　rags；　her　bleared；

withered　face；　and　the　great　despised　love　tugging　at　her　heart？



〃Come；　you！〃　called　Haley；　impatiently。



She　did　not　move。



〃Hugh！〃　she　whispered。



It　was　to　be　her　last　word。　　What　was　it？



〃Hugh；　boy；　not　THAT！〃



He　did　not　answer。　　She　wrung　her　hands；　trying　to　be　silent；

looking　in　his　face　in　an　agony　of　entreaty。　　He　smiled　again；

kindly。



〃It　is　best；　Deb。　　I　cannot　bear　to　be　hurted　any　more。



〃Hur　knows；〃　she　said；　humbly。



〃Tell　my　father　good…bye；　andand　kiss　little　Janey。〃



She　nodded；　saying　nothing；　looked　in　his　face　again；　and　went

out　of　the　door。　　As　she　went；　she　staggered。



〃Drinkin'　to…day？〃　　broke　out　Haley；　pushing　her　before　him。

〃Where　the　Devil　did　you　get　it？　　Here；　in　with　ye！〃　and　he

shoved　her　into　her　cell；　next　to　Wolfe's；　and　shut　the　door。



Along　the　wall　of　her　cell　there　was　a　crack　low　down　by　the

floor；　through　which　she　could　see　the　light　from　Wolfe's。　　She

had　discovered　it　days　before。　　She　hurried　in　now；　and；

kneeling　down　by　it；　listened；　hoping　to　hear　some　sound。

Nothing　but　the　rasping　of　the　tin　on　the　bars。　　He　was　at　his

old　amusement　again。　　Something　in　the　noise　jarred　on　her　ear；

for　she　shivered　as　she　heard　it。　　Hugh　rasped　away　at　the　bars。

A　dull　old　bit　of　tin；　not　fit　to　cut　korl　with。



He　looked　out　of　the　window　again。　　People　were　leaving　the

market　now。　　A　tall　mulatto　girl；　following　her　mistress；　her

basket　on　her　head；　crossed　the　street　just　below；　and　looked

up。　　She　was　laughing；　but；　when　she　caught　sight　of　the　haggard

face　peering　out　through　the　bars；　suddenly　grew　grave；　and

hurried　by。　　A　free；　firm　step；　a　clear…cut　olive　face；　with　a

scarlet　turban　tied　on　one　side；　dark；　shining　eyes；　and　on　the

head　the　basket　poised；　filled　with　fruit　and　flowers；　under

which　the　scarlet　turban　and　bright　eyes　looked　out　half…

shadowed。　　The　picture　caught　his　eye。　　It　was　good　to　see　a

face　like　that。　　He　would　try　to…morrow；　and　cut　one　like　it。

To…morrow！　　He　threw　down　the　tin；　trembling；　and　covered　his

face　with　his　hands。　　When　he　looked　up　again；　the　daylight　was

gone。



Deborah；　crouching　near　by　on　the　other　side　of　the　wall；　heard

no　noise。　　He　sat　on　the　side　of　the　low　pallet；　thinking。

Whatever　was　the　mystery　which　the　woman　had　seen　on　his　face；

it　came　out　now　slowly；　in　the　dark　there；　and　became　fixed；a

something　never　seen　on　his　face　before。　　The　evening　was

darkening　fast。　　The　market　had　been　over　for　an　hour；　the

rumbling　of　the　carts　over　the　pavement　grew　more　infrequent：　

he　listened　to　each；　as　it　passed；　because　he　thought　it　was　to

be　for　the　last　time。　　For　the　same　reason；　it　was；　I　suppose；

that　he　strained　his　eyes　to　catch　a　glimpse　of　each　passer…by；

wondering　who　they　were；　what　kind　of　homes　they　were　going　to；

if　they　had　children；listening　eagerly　to　every　chance　word　in

the　street；　as　if（God　be　merciful　to　the　man！　what　strange

fancy　was　this？）as　if　he　never　should　hear　human　voices　again。



It　was　quite　dark　at　last。　　The　street　was　a　lonely　one。　　The

last　passenger；　he　thought；　was　gone。　　No；there　was　a　quick

step：　　Joe　Hill；　lighting　the　lamps。　　Joe　was　a　good　old　chap；

never　passed　a　fellow　without　some　joke　or　other。　　He　remembered

once　seeing　the　place　where　he　lived　with　his　wife。　　〃Granny

Hill〃　the　boys　called　her。　　Bedridden　she　Was；　but　so　kind　as

Joe　was　to　her！　kept　the　room　so　clean！and　the　old　woman；　when

he　was　there；　was　laughing　at　some　of　t'　lad's　foolishness。〃

The　step　was　far　down　the　street；　but　he　could　see　him　place　the

ladder；　run　up；　and　light　the　gas。　　A　longing　seized　him　to　be

spoken　to　once　more。



〃Joe！〃　he　called；　out　of　the　grating。　　〃Good…bye；　Joe！〃



The　old　man　stopped　a　moment；　listening　uncertainly；　then

hurried　on。　　The　prisoner　thrust　his　hand　out　of　the　window；　and

called　again；　louder；　but　Joe　was　too　far　down　the　street。　　It

was　a　little　thing；　but　it　hurt　him；this　disappointment。



〃Good…bye；　Joe！〃　he　called；　sorrowfully　enough。



〃Be　quiet！〃　said　one　of　the　jailers；　passing　the　door；　striking

on　it　with　his　club。



Oh；　that　was　the　last；　was　it？



There　was　an　inexpressible　bitterness　on　his　face；　as　he　lay

down　on　the　bed；　taking　the　bit　of　tin；　which　he　had　rasped　to

a　tolerable　degree　of　sharpness；　in　his　hand；to　play　with；　it

may　be。　　He　bared　his　arms；　looking　intently　at　their　corded

veins　and　sinews。　　Deborah；　listening　in　the　next　cell；　heard　a

slight　clicking　sound；　often　repeated。　　She　shut　her　lips

tightly；　that　she　might　not　scream；　the　cold　drops　of　sweat

broke　over　her；　in　her　dumb　agony。



〃Hur　knows　best；〃　she　muttered　at　last；　fiercely　clutching　the

boards　where　she　lay。



If　she　could　have　seen　Wolfe；　there　was　nothing　about　him　to

frighten　her。　　He　lay　quite　still；　his　arms　outstretched；

looking　at　the　pearly　stream　of　moonlight　coming　into　the

window。　　I　think　in　that　one　hour　that　came　then　he　lived　back

over　all　the　years　that　had　gone　before。　　I　think　that　all　the

low；　vile　life；　all　his　wrongs；　all　his　starved　hopes；　came

then；　and　stung　him　with　a　farewell　poison　that　made　him　sick

unto　death。　　He　made　neither　moan　nor　cry；　only　turned　his　worn

face　now　and　then　to　the　pure　light；　that　seemed　so　far　off；　as

one　that　said；　〃How　long；　O　Lord？　　how　long？〃



The　hour　was　over　at　last。　　The　moon；　passing　over　her　nightly

path；　slowly　came　nearer；　and　threw　the　light　across　his　bed　on

his　feet。　　He　watched　it　steadily；　as　it　crept　up；　inch　by　inch；

slowly。　　It　seemed　to　him　to　carry　with　it　a　great　silence。　　He

had　been　so　hot　and　tired　there　always　in　the　mills！　　The　years

had　been　so　fierce　and　cruel！　　There　was　coming　now　quiet　and

coolness　and　sleep。　　His　tense　limbs　relaxed；　and　settled　in　a

calm　languor。　　The　blood　ran　fainter　and　slow　from　his　heart。

He　did　not　think　now　with　a　savage　anger　of　what　might　be　and

was　not；　he　was　conscious　only　of　deep　stillness　creeping　over

him。　　At　first　he　saw　a　sea　of　faces：　　the　mill…men；women　he

had　known；　drunken　and　bloated；Janey's　timid　and　pitiful…poor

old　Debs：　　then　they　floated　together　like　a　mist；　and　faded

away；　leaving　only　the　clear；　pearly　moonlight。



Whether；　as　the　pure　light　crept　up　the　stretched…out　figure；　it

brought　with　It　calm　and　peace；　who　shall　say？　　His　dumb　soul

was　alone　with　God　in　judgment。　　A　Voice　may　have　spoken　for　it

from　far…off　Calvary；　〃Father；　forgive　them；　for　they　know　not

what　they　do！〃　　Who　dare　say？　　Fainter　and　fainter　the　heart

rose　and　fell；　slower　and　slower　the　moon　floated　from　behind　a

cloud；　until；　when　at　last　its　full　tide　of　white　splendor　swept

over　the　cell；　it　seemed　to　wrap　and　fold　into　a　deeper

stillness　the　dead　figure　that　never　should　move　again。　　Silence

deeper　than　the　Night！　　Nothing　that　moved；　save　the　black；

nauseous　stream　of　blood　dripping　slowly　from　the　pallet　to　the

floor！



There　was　outcry　and　crowd　enough　in　the　cell　the　next　day。　　The

coroner　and　his　jury；　the　local　editors；　Kirby　himself；　and　boys

with　their　hands　thrust　knowingly　into　their　pockets　and　heads

on　one　side；　jammed　into　the　corners。　　Coming　and　going　all　day。

Only　one　woman。　　She　came　late；　and　outstayed　them　all。　　A

Quaker；　or　Friend；　as　they　call　themselves。　　I　think　this　woman

Was　known　by　that　name　in　heaven。　　A　homely　body；　coarsely

dressed　in　gray　and　white。　　Deborah　（for　Haley　had　let　her　in）

took　notice　of　her。　　She　watched　them　allsitting　on　the　end　of

the　pallet；　holding　his　head　in　her　arms　with　the　ferocity　of　a

watch…dog；　if　any　of　them　touched　the　body。　　There　was　no

meekness；　no　sorrow；　in　her　face；　the　stuff　out　of　which

murderers　are　made；　instead。　　All　the　time　Haley　and　the　woman

were　laying　straight　the　limbs　and　cleaning　the　cell；　Deborah

sat　still；　keenly　watching　the　Quaker's　face。　　Of　all　the　crowd

there　that　day；　this　woman　alone　had　not　spoken　to　her；only

once　or　twice　had　put　some　cordial　to　her　lips。　　After　they　all

were　gone；　the　woman；　in　the　same　still；　gentle　way；　brought　a

vase　of　wood…leaves　and　berries；　and　placed　it　by　the　pallet；

then　opened　the　narrow　window。　　The　fresh　air　blew　in；　and　swept

the　woody　fragrance　over　the　dead　face；　Deborah　looked　up　with

a　quick　wonder。



〃Did　hur　know　my　boy　wud　like　it？　　Did　hur　know　Hugh？〃



〃I　know　Hugh　now。〃



The　white　fingers　passed　in　a　slow；　pitiful