第83章 A Thumb-print and What Came of It(4)
- LIFE ON THE MISSISSIPPI
- Mark Twain
- 875字
- 2016-03-02 16:32:41
Four years ago,my health began to fail.I had wandered into Munich,in my purposeless way.Being out of money,I sought work,and got it;did my duty faithfully about a year,and was then given the berth of night watchman yonder in that dead-house which you visited lately.The place suited my mood.I liked it.
I liked being with the dead--liked being alone with them.
I used to wander among those rigid corpses,and peer into their austere faces,by the hour.The later the time,the more impressive it was;I preferred the late time.
Sometimes I turned the lights low:this gave perspective,you see;and the imagination could play;always,the dim receding ranks of the dead inspired one with weird and fascinating fancies.
Two years ago--I had been there a year then--I was sitting all alone in the watch-room,one gusty winter's night,chilled,numb,comfortless;drowsing gradually into unconsciousness;the sobbing of the wind and the slamming of distant shutters falling fainter and fainter upon my dulling ear each moment,when sharp and suddenly that dead-bell rang out a blood-curdling alarum over my head!
The shock of it nearly paralyzed me;for it was the first time I had ever heard it.
I gathered myself together and flew to the corpse-room.About midway down the outside rank,a shrouded figure was sitting upright,wagging its head slowly from one side to the other--a grisly spectacle!
Its side was toward me.I hurried to it and peered into its face.
Heavens,it was Adler!
Can you divine what my first thought was?Put into words,it was this:'It seems,then,you escaped me once:there will be a different result this time!'
Evidently this creature was suffering unimaginable terrors.
Think what it must have been to wake up in the midst of that voiceless hush,and,look out over that grim congregation of the dead!What gratitude shone in his skinny white face when he saw a living form before him!And how the fervency of this mute gratitude was augmented when his eyes fell upon the life-giving cordials which I carried in my hands!
Then imagine the horror which came into this pinched face when Iput the cordials behind me,and said mockingly--'Speak up,Franz Adler--call upon these dead.Doubtless they will listen and have pity;but here there is none else that will.'
He tried to speak,but that part of the shroud which bound his jaws,held firm and would not let him.He tried to lift imploring hands,but they were crossed upon his breast and tied.I said-'Shout,Franz Adler;make the sleepers in the distant streets hear you and bring help.Shout--and lose no time,for there is little to lose.What,you cannot?That is a pity;but it is no matter--it does not always bring help.
When you and your cousin murdered a helpless woman and child in a cabin in Arkansas--my wife,it was,and my child!--they shrieked for help,you remember;but it did no good;you remember that it did no good,is it not so?Your teeth chatter--then why cannot you shout?Loosen the bandages with your hands--then you can.Ah,I see--your hands are tied,they cannot aid you.
How strangely things repeat themselves,after long years;for MY hands were tied,that night,you remember?Yes,tied much as yours are now--how odd that is.I could not pull free.
It did not occur to you to untie me;it does not occur to me to untie you.Sh----!there's a late footstep.
It is coming this way.Hark,how near it is!One can count the footfalls--one--two--three.There--it is just outside.
Now is the time!Shout,man,shout!--it is the one sole chance between you and eternity!Ah,you see you have delayed too long--it is gone by.There--it is dying out.It is gone!Think of it--reflect upon it--you have heard a human footstep for the last time.
How curious it must be,to listen to so common a sound as that,and know that one will never hear the fellow to it again.'
Oh,my friend,the agony in that shrouded face was ecstasy to see!
I thought of a new torture,and applied it--assisting myself with a trifle of lying invention--'That poor Kruger tried to save my wife and child,and Idid him a grateful good turn for it when the time came.
I persuaded him to rob you;and I and a woman helped him to desert,and got him away in safety.'A look as of surprise and triumph shone out dimly through the anguish in my victim's face.
I was disturbed,disquieted.I said--
'What,then--didn't he escape?'
A negative shake of the head.
'No?What happened,then?'
The satisfaction in the shrouded face was still plainer.
The man tried to mumble out some words--could not succeed;tried to express something with his obstructed hands--failed;paused a moment,then feebly tilted his head,in a meaning way,toward the corpse that lay nearest him.
'Dead?'I asked.'Failed to escape?--caught in the act and shot?'
Negative shake of the head.
'How,then?'