FATAL CONSEQUENCES
It was nearly two hours before day-break; that time which in the autumn of the year, may be truly called the dead of night; when the streets are silent and deserted; when even sounds appear to slumber, and profligacy and riot have staggered home to dream; it was at this still and silent hour, that Fagin sat watching in his old lair, with face so distorted and pale, and eyes so red and blood-shot, that he looked less like a man, than like some hideous phantom, moist from the grave, and worried by an evil spirit.
He sat crouching over a cold hearth, wrapped in an old torn coverlet, with his face turned towards a wasting candle that stood upon a table by his side. His right hand was raised to his lips, and as, absorbed in thought, he hit his long black nails, he disclosed among his toothless gums a few such fangs as should have been a dog's or rat's.
Stretched upon a mattress on the floor, lay Noah Claypole, fast asleep. Towards him the old man sometimes directed his eyes for an instant, and then brought them back again to the candle; which with a long-burnt wick drooping almost double, and hot grease falling down in clots upon the table, plainly showed that his thoughts were busy elsewhere.
Indeed they were. Mortification at the overthrow of his notable scheme; hatred of the girl who had dared to palter with strangers; and utter distrust of the sincerity of her refusal to yield him up; bitter disappointment at the loss of his revenge on Sikes; the fear of detection, and ruin, and death; and a fierce and deadly rage kindled by all; these were the passionate considerations which, following close upon each other with rapid and ceaseless whirl, shot through the brain of Fagin, as every evil thought and blackest purpose lay working at his heart.
He sat without changing his attitude in the least, or appearing to take the smallest heed of time, until his quick ear seemed to be attracted by a footstep in the street.
'At last,' he muttered, wiping his dry and fevered mouth. 'At last!'
The bell rang gently as he spoke. He crept upstairs to the door, and presently returned accompanied by a man muffled to the chin, who carried a bundle under one arm. Sitting down and throwing back his outer coat, the man displayed the burly frame of Sikes.
'There!' he said, laying the bundle on the table. 'Take care of that, and do the most you can with it. It's been trouble enough to get; I thought I should have been here, three hours ago.'
Fagin laid his hand upon the bundle, and locking it in the cupboard, sat down again without speaking. But he did not take his eyes off the robber, for an instant, during this action; and now that they sat over against each other, face to face, he looked fixedly at him, with his lips quivering so violently, and his face so altered by the emotions which had mastered him, that the housebreaker involuntarily drew back his chair, and surveyed him with a look of real affright.
'Wot now?' cried Sikes. 'Wot do you look at a man so for?'
Fagin raised his right hand, and shook his trembling forefinger in the air; but his passion was so great, that the power of speech was for the moment gone.
'Damme!' said Sikes, feeling in his breast with a look of alarm. 'He's gone mad. I must look to myself here.'
'No, no,' rejoined Fagin, finding his voice. 'It's not--you're not the person, Bill. I've no--no fault to find with you.'
'Oh, you haven't, haven't you?' said Sikes, looking sternly at him, and ostentatiously passing a pistol into a more convenient pocket. 'That's lucky--for one of us. Which one that is, don't matter.'
'I've got that to tell you, Bill,' said Fagin, drawing his chair nearer, 'will make you worse than me.'
'Aye?' returned the robber with an incredulous air. 'Tell away! Look sharp, or Nance will think I'm lost.'
'Lost!' cried Fagin. 'She has pretty well settled that, in her own mind, already.'
Sikes looked with an aspect of great perplexity into the Jew's face, and reading no satisfactory explanation of the riddle there, clenched his coat collar in his huge hand and shook him soundly.
'Speak, will you!' he said; 'or if you don't, it shall be for want of breath. Open your mouth and say wot you've got to say in plain words. Out with it, you thundering old cur, out with it!'
'Suppose that lad that's laying there--' Fagin began.
Sikes turned round to where Noah was sleeping, as if he had not previously observed him. 'Well!' he said, resuming his former position.
'Suppose that lad,' pursued Fagin, 'was to peach--to blow upon us all--first seeking out the right folks for the purpose, and then having a meeting with 'em in the street to paint our likenesses, describe every mark that they might know us by, and the crib where we might be most easily taken. Suppose he was to do all this, and besides to blow upon a plant we've all been in, more or less--of his own fancy; not grabbed, trapped, tried, earwigged by the parson and brought to it on bread and water,--but of his own fancy; to please his own taste; stealing out at nights to find those most interested against us, and peaching to them. Do you hear me?' cried the Jew, his eyes flashing with rage. 'Suppose he did all this, what then?'
'What then!' replied Sikes; with a tremendous oath. 'If he was left alive till I came, I'd grind his skull under the iron heel of my boot into as many grains as there are hairs upon his head.'
'What if I did it!' cried Fagin almost in a yell. 'I, that knows so much, and could hang so many besides myself!'
'I don't know,' replied Sikes, clenching his teeth and turning white at the mere suggestion. 'I'd do something in the jail that 'ud get me put in irons; and if I was tried along with you, I'd fall upon you with them in the open court, and beat your brains out afore the people. I should have such strength,' muttered the robber, poising his brawny arm, 'that I could smash your head as if a loaded waggon had gone over it.'
'You would?'
'Would I!' said the housebreaker. 'Try me.'
'If it was Charley, or the Dodger, or Bet, or--'
'I don't care who,' replied Sikes impatiently. 'Whoever it was, I'd serve them the same.'
Fagin looked hard at the robber; and, motioning him to be silent, stooped over the bed upon the floor, and shook the sleeper to rouse him. Sikes leant forward in his chair: looking on with his hands upon his knees, as if wondering much what all this questioning and preparation was to end in.
'Bolter, Bolter! Poor lad!' said Fagin, looking up with an expression of devilish anticipation, and speaking slowly and with marked emphasis. 'He's tired--tired with watching for her so long,--watching for _her_, Bill.'
'Wot d'ye mean?' asked Sikes, drawing back.
Fagin made no answer, but bending over the sleeper again, hauled him into a sitting posture. When his assumed name had been repeated several times, Noah rubbed his eyes, and, giving a heavy yawn, looked sleepily about him.
'Tell me that again--once again, just for him to hear,' said the Jew, pointing to Sikes as he spoke.
'Tell yer what?' asked the sleepy Noah, shaking himself pettishly.
'That about-- _Nancy_,' said Fagin, clutching Sikes by the wrist, as if to prevent his leaving the house before he had heard enough. 'You followed her?'
'Yes.'
'To London Bridge?'
'Yes.'
'Where she met two people.'
'So she did.'
'A gentleman and a lady that she had gone to of her own accord before, who asked her to give up all her pals, and Monks first, which she did--and to describe him, which she did--and to tell her what house it was that we meet at, and go to, which she did--and where it could be best watched from, which she did--and what time the people went there, which she did. She did all this. She told it all every word without a threat, without a murmur--she did--did she not?' cried Fagin, half mad with fury.
'All right,' replied Noah, scratching his head. 'That's just what it was!'
'What did they say, about last Sunday?'
'About last Sunday!' replied Noah, considering. 'Why I told yer that before.'
'Again. Tell it again!' cried Fagin, tightening his grasp on Sikes, and brandishing his other hand aloft, as the foam flew from his lips.
'They asked her,' said Noah, who, as he grew more wakeful, seemed to have a dawning perception who Sikes was, 'they asked her why she didn't come, last Sunday, as she promised. She said she couldn't.'
'Why--why? Tell him that.'
'Because she was forcibly kept at home by Bill, the man she had told them of before,' replied Noah.
'What more of him?' cried Fagin. 'What more of the man she had told them of before? Tell him that, tell him that.'
'Why, that she couldn't very easily get out of doors unless he knew where she was going to,' said Noah; 'and so the first time she went to see the lady, she--ha! ha! ha! it made me laugh when she said it, that it did--she gave him a drink of laudanum.'
'Hell's fire!' cried Sikes, breaking fiercely from the Jew. 'Let me go!'
Flinging the old man from him, he rushed from the room, and darted, wildly and furiously, up the stairs.
'Bill, Bill!' cried Fagin, following him hastily. 'A word. Only a word.'
The word would not have been exchanged, but that the housebreaker was unable to open the door: on which he was expending fruitless oaths and violence, when the Jew came panting up.
'Let me out,' said Sikes. 'Don't speak to me; it's not safe. Let me out, I say!'
'Hear me speak a word,' rejoined Fagin, laying his hand upon the lock. 'You won't be--'
'Well,' replied the other.
'You won't be--too--violent, Bill?'
The day was breaking, and there was light enough for the men to see each other's faces. They exchanged one brief glance; there was a fire in the eyes of both, which could not be mistaken.
'I mean,' said Fagin, showing that he felt all disguise was now useless, 'not too violent for safety. Be crafty, Bill, and not too bold.'
Sikes made no reply; but, pulling open the door, of which Fagin had turned the lock, dashed into the silent streets.
Without one pause, or moment's consideration; without once turning his head to the right or left, or raising his eyes to the sky, or lowering them to the ground, but looking straight before him with savage resolution: his teeth so tightly compressed that the strained jaw seemed starting through his skin; the robber held on his headlong course, nor muttered a word, nor relaxed a muscle, until he reached his own door. He opened it, softly, with a key; strode lightly up the stairs; and entering his own room, double-locked the door, and lifting a heavy table against it, drew back the curtain of the bed.
The girl was lying, half-dressed, upon it. He had roused her from her sleep, for she raised herself with a hurried and startled look.
'Get up!' said the man.
'It is you, Bill!' said the girl, with an expression of pleasure at his return.
'It is,' was the reply. 'Get up.'
There was a candle burning, but the man hastily drew it from the candlestick, and hurled it under the grate. Seeing the faint light of early day without, the girl rose to undraw the curtain.
'Let it be,' said Sikes, thrusting his hand before her. 'There's enough light for wot I've got to do.'
'Bill,' said the girl, in the low voice of alarm, 'why do you look like that at me!'
The robber sat regarding her, for a few seconds, with dilated nostrils and heaving breast; and then, grasping her by the head and throat, dragged her into the middle of the room, and looking once towards the door, placed his heavy hand upon her mouth.
'Bill, Bill!' gasped the girl, wrestling with the strength of mortal fear,--'I--I won't scream or cry--not once--hear me--speak to me--tell me what I have done!'
'You know, you she devil!' returned the robber, suppressing his breath. 'You were watched to-night; every word you said was heard.'
'Then spare my life for the love of Heaven, as I spared yours,' rejoined the girl, clinging to him. 'Bill, dear Bill, you cannot have the heart to kill me. Oh! think of all I have given up, only this one night, for you. You _shall_ have time to think, and save yourself this crime; I will not loose my hold, you cannot throw me off. Bill, Bill, for dear God's sake, for your own, for mine, stop before you spill my blood! I have been true to you, upon my guilty soul I have!'
The man struggled violently, to release his arms; but those of the girl were clasped round his, and tear her as he would, he could not tear them away.
'Bill,' cried the girl, striving to lay her head upon his breast, 'the gentleman and that dear lady, told me to-night of a home in some foreign country where I could end my days in solitude and peace. Let me see them again, and beg them, on my knees, to show the same mercy and goodness to you; and let us both leave this dreadful place, and far apart lead better lives, and forget how we have lived, except in prayers, and never see each other more. It is never too late to repent. They told me so--I feel it now--but we must have time--a little, little time!'
The housebreaker freed one arm, and grasped his pistol. The certainty of immediate detection if he fired, flashed across his mind even in the midst of his fury; and he beat it twice with all the force he could summon, upon the upturned face that almost touched his own.
She staggered and fell: nearly blinded with the blood that rained down from a deep gash in her forehead; but raising herself, with difficulty, on her knees, drew from her bosom a white handkerchief--Rose Maylie's own--and holding it up, in her folded hands, as high towards Heaven as her feeble strength would allow, breathed one prayer for mercy to her Maker.
It was a ghastly figure to look upon. The murderer staggering backward to the wall, and shutting out the sight with his hand, seized a heavy club and struck her down.
离破晓差不多还有两小时，秋天里的这一个时辰确实可以称为死寂的深夜，街道寂寥冷落，连各种声音似乎都已酣然入睡，一婬一欲与一騷一动也步履蹒跚地回家睡觉去了。就是在这样一个万籁俱寂的时刻，费金坐守在自己的老巢里。他五官扭曲，脸色苍白，通红的两眼布满血丝，与其说他像人，不如说像个狰狞可怕的幽灵，浑身湿一漉一漉地从墓一穴一里爬出来，却又受到恶神的侵扰。
他弯腰曲背坐在冷冰冰的壁炉前边，身上裹一着破旧的被单，面朝身边桌子上放着的一支即将燃尽的蜡烛。他陷入了沉思，右手举到唇边，用嘴去啃又长又黑的指甲，他那牙齿脱落的龈肉中露出几颗照说只有狗或者是老鼠嘴里才有的尖牙。
地板上，诺亚克雷波尔直一挺一挺地躺在一张垫子上边，睡得正香。老头儿间或朝他瞧一眼，接着便又把目光移向蜡烛，燃过的烛心搭拉下来的需要，而不再有一精一神的追求，完全失去了“批判一精一神”，成，几乎断成了两截，滚一烫的蜡油一一团一团一滴落在桌上，这些迹象分明表示他心不在焉。
的确如此。他为自己那套妙计落空而懊恼，恨那个胆敢与陌生人勾勾搭搭的姑一娘一，丝毫也不相信她拒绝告发自己是出于一片真心，为失去报复赛克斯的机会而感到极度失望，他担心法网难逃，老巢覆灭，而且会搭上老命，这一切煽起了一股狂一暴的怒火――这些激愤的念头一个接着一个，不间断地飞速旋转着从费金脑海里掠过，一个个邪恶的设想，一个个极其晦暗的意念在他心里翻腾。
他坐在那里，丝毫也没有改变姿势，似乎也完全没有注意到时间，直到他敏锐的听觉像是被街上的一阵脚步声所吸引。
“终于来了，”他抹了抹干得发烫的嘴唇，喃喃地说，“终于来了。”
说话间，门铃轻轻响了起来。他蹑手蹑脚地爬上楼梯，往门口走去，不一会儿就领着一个用围巾裹一住下巴，胳膊下边夹一着一包东西的男子回来了。那人坐下来，脱掉大衣，现出赛克斯魁梧的身躯。
“喏。”他把那包东西放在桌上。“把这个收好喽，尽量多卖几个钱。好不容易才搞到的，我本来以为三个小时以前就到得了这儿呢。”
费金抓起那包东西，锁进食橱里，重新坐下来，依旧一言不发。然而，在这一举动的前前后后，他的目光一刻也没离开过那个强盗。眼下两人面对面坐下来，他两眼直瞪瞪地望着赛克斯，嘴唇抖得厉害，感情不仅主宰着他，连他的模样也改变了，那个打家劫舍的家伙不由自主地把椅子往后挪了挪，细细打量着他，那副惊恐的样子绝不是装出来的。
“怎么回事？”赛克斯嚷道，“你干吗这样看着人家？”
费金扬起右手，在空中晃了晃发一抖的食指，可他实在太冲动了，一时竟说不出话来。
“一妈一的。”妥赛克斯神色慌乱地摸了摸胸口，说道，“他发疯了。我在这儿得留点神。”
“不，不，”费金好歹能出声了，“不是――不是你的事，比尔。我不是――不是找你的岔子。”
“噢，你不是，对吗？’赛克斯恶狠狠地打量着他，一边故意把手槍放进一个更称手的口袋里。“这叫运气――我们当中总有一个。到底是哪一个运气好，倒没什么关系。”
“我有话要对你说，比尔，”费金说着，将椅子挪近了一些，“你听了肯定比我还要难受。”
“哎？”那强盗看样子有些不信，“说出来呀。快点儿，要不南希还以为我出事了呢。”
“出事！”费金嚷道。“她自个儿心里头，早就把这事盘算好了。”
赛克斯迷惑不解地盯着费金的脸，从他脸上却又找不到满意的解释，便一把揪住费金的衣领，结结实实抖了他几下。
“说，说呀。”他说道，“你要是不说，可就要断气了。张开嘴，把你要说的话爽爽一快快说出来。说出来呀，你这个天打雷劈的老狗，快说。”
“如果，躺在那儿的小伙子――”费金开口了。
赛克斯朝诺亚睡的地方转过脸去，像是当初不曾注意到他似的。“呃。”他哼了一声，又恢复了刚才的姿势。
“假定那个小伙子，”老犹太往下说道，“要去告密――把我们大伙儿全一捅一出去――第一步找到合适的人，接着在街上跟他们接头，为的是把我们的相貌特征记下来，每一个特征都说得清清楚楚，这样就可以把我们认出来，再告诉他们在哪个窝子里可以轻而易举抓住我们。假定他打算干这一揽子事，外加上把我们大家多多少少都有份的一件事给供出去――纯粹是他自个儿一胡一思乱想，一没有给逮住，二没有掉进圈套或是受牧师的挑唆，也不是没有吃的喝的――纯粹是他自个儿一胡一思乱想，心甘情愿，几个晚上溜出去找那班最喜欢跟我们作对的人，向他们告密。你听见我的话了吗？”老犹太吼叫着，眼里喷一射着怒火，“假如他干了这一切，你打算怎么办？”
“怎么办！”赛克斯发出一句恶毒的诅咒，“他要是在我进来以前还留着条命的话，我就用靴子的铁后跟把他的脑袋碾成碎片，他有多少根头发，碎片就有多少块。”
“如果是我干的呢！”老犹太几乎嚎叫起来，“我知道的事情太多了，除了我自己以外，还能叫那么多人都给绞死。”
“我不知道，”赛克斯答道，单单是听到这一种假设，他便咬牙切齿，脸色铁青。“我没准会在牢里干一件什么事，让他们替一我打上铁镣。如果我跟你是同时受审，我就在公堂上扑到你身上，当着众人用铁镣把你的脑汁敲出来。我有这份气力。”这强盗抬起一条肌肉发达的胳臂，扬了扬，嘴里嘟嘟囔囔。“我会把你的脑袋捣成肉泥，就像是有辆满载货物的马车打上边开过去一样。”
“你真的干得出？”
“那还用说。”赛克斯说，“不信你就试试。”
“如果是查理，或者是机灵鬼，或者是蓓特，或者――”
“管他是谁呢，’赛克斯不耐烦地说，“不管哪一个，我伺候起来没什么两样。”
费金死死地盯着这个强盗，示意他别再说话，自己在地铺上俯下一身来，摇了摇正在睡觉的人，打算把他叫起来。赛克斯躬着身一子坐在椅子里，手搭在膝盖上，在一边观望，看样子他真有点摸不着头脑，弄不清这一个个话中有话的问题到底想要得出一个什么结论。
“波尔特，波尔特。可怜的小伙子。”费金抬起头来，一脸魔鬼等着好戏看的表情，话说得很慢，加强语气的地方十分明显。“他累坏了――守了她那么久给累的――一直守着她呢，比尔。”
“你说什么？”赛克斯身一子往后一仰，问道。
费金没有搭腔，只是又一次朝睡觉的人弯下腰，拖他坐了起来。诺亚直等到自己的假名给叫了好几次之后，才一揉一揉一眼睛，重重地打了一个问欠，睡眼惺忪地向四周看看。
“把那事再给我讲讲――再讲一遍，也让他听听。”老犹太说着，指了指赛克斯。
“给你讲什么呀？”睡意正浓的诺亚老大不高兴地扭了扭身一子，问道。
“那件有关――南希的事，”费金说着，一把握住赛克斯的手腕，像是为了防止他没听出个究竟就从这所房子里冲出去似的。“你跟着她去了？”
“是的。”
“是去伦敦桥？”
“对呀。”
“她在那儿跟两个人碰了头？”
“是这么回事。”
“那是一位老先生，还有一位小一姐，她以前去找过别人一回。他们要她说出所有的同伙，首先是孟可司，她照办了――要她描述一下他的长相，她照办了――要她说出我们碰面和来来去去的房子是个什么样，她照办了――最好从什么地方进行监视，她说了――大家什么时候上那儿去，她说了。这一切都是她干的。她就这么一句一句讲出来了，没有一句罗嗦的，也没有人一逼一她――她干了没有――莫非她没干？”费金大吼大叫，快气得发疯了。
“一点儿不错，”诺亚搔了搔头皮，答道，“是那么回事。”
“上个星期天的事，他们说了些什么？”
“上个星期天的事，”诺亚一边想一边回答，“我不是跟你讲过了吗？”
“再说说，再讲一遍。”费金唾沫四溅地喊叫着，一只手紧紧一抓住赛克斯，另一只手上下挥动。
“他们问她，”诺亚清醒了不少，他像是隐隐约约意识到了赛克斯的身份，说道，“他们问她上星期天为什么没按她约好的时间来。她说她来不了。”
“为什么来不了――为什么？把那句话告诉他。”
“因为比尔，就是从前向他们提起过的那个人，把她给关在家里了。”诺亚回答。
“还说了他什么？”费金嚷嚷着，“从前向他们提起过的那个人，她还说了他什么？告诉他。”
“噢，说是除非他知道她要去什么地方，她轻易出不了门，”诺亚说，“所以，头一次去见那位小一姐，她――哈哈哈！她说到这事的时候，可把我逗乐了，真的――她给他用了一点儿鸦片酊。”
“一操一他一娘一的！”赛克斯大吼一声，猛力挣脱老犹太的手。“闪开！”
他把费金老头摔到一边，奔出房间，怒不可遏地登上楼梯。
“比尔，比尔！”老犹太慌忙跟上去，喊道。“听我一句话，就一句话。”
这句话原本是来不及说的，幸亏那个打家劫舍的家伙没法开门出去，就在赛克斯徒劳无益地冲着大门使劲，一边破口大骂的当儿，老犹太气喘吁吁地赶上前来。
“让我出去，”赛克斯说道，“别跟我说话，你给我当心点。听见没有，让我出去。”
“听我说一句，”费金将手按在门锁上，说道，“你不会――”
“说。”对方回答。
“比尔，你不会――太――莽撞吧？”
天将破晓，门口的亮光尽够让他们看清彼此的面孔。他俩相互瞥了一眼，两个人眼睛里都燃着一一团一火，这一点是不会看错的。
“我的意思是，”费金说道，他显然意识到眼下一切花言巧语都已无济于事，“为了安全起见，别太莽撞。利索些，比尔，别太冒失。”
赛克斯没有答腔，这功夫老犹太已经拧开了门锁，他管自拉开大门，向静悄悄的街上冲去。
这强盗一步也没有停留，没有考虑片刻，既没有左顾右盼，没有朝天空抬起目光，也没有将目光投向地面。他横下一条心，两眼直瞪瞪地望着前方，牙齿紧紧地咬在一起，绷紧的下巴像是快要戳一穿皮肤似的。他没有嘀咕一句，也没有放松一条肌肉，一路狂奔，来到了家门口。他用钥匙轻轻地打开门，快步跨上楼梯，走进自己的房间，又在门上加了双锁。他把一张很沉的桌子推上去顶一住门，然后掀一开一床一帘。
南希姑一娘一衣装不整地躺在一床一上。赛克斯将她从睡梦中惊醒了，她吃惊地睁开眼睛，慌忙支起身来。
“起来！”那家伙说道。
“原来是你啊，比尔。”姑一娘一见他回来，显得很高兴。
“是我，”赛克斯应了一声，“起来。”
房间里点着一支蜡烛，汉子劈手从烛台上拔下蜡烛，扔到炉栅底下。见窗外已是晨曦初露，姑一娘一跳下一床一来，打算把窗帘拨到一边。
“由它去，”赛克斯伸手拦住了她，说道，“这点光线够我办事儿的了。”
“比尔，”姑一娘一惊慌地压低声音说道，“你干吗那样瞧着我？”
那强盗坐下来，鼓着鼻孔，胸口一起一伏，照她打量了几秒钟，接着，他卡住姑一娘一的头和脖子，将她拖到屋子中央，朝门口看了一眼，把一只大巴掌捂在她的嘴上。
“比尔，比尔。”姑一娘一透不过气来，拼命挣扎，死亡的威胁给她带来了力气――“我――我不会喊叫的――一声也不叫――听我――你讲吧――你说我到底干了什么。”
“你心里有数，你这个鬼婆一娘一。”那强盗尽量不让自己大声喘气，回答道，“今儿晚上你给盯上了，你说的话句句都有人听着呢。”
“那么，看在老天爷分上，你就饶我一命吧，就像我也饶了你的命一样。”姑一娘一搂住他，答道，“比尔，亲一爱一的比尔，你不会忍心杀我的。噢，想想吧，单是这一个晚上，为了你，我放弃了一切。你照理还有时间考虑，免得你犯下大罪。我绝不松手，你别想甩开我。比尔，比尔，看在仁慈的上帝分上，为了你自己，也为了我，不要让你的手沾上我的血。我凭着自己有罪的灵魂担保，我对得起你。”
汉子暴跳如雷，想挣脱自己的手，但姑一娘一的双臂紧紧地抱着他，不管他怎么扭扯，也没法掰一开她的胳膊。
“比尔，”姑一娘一哭喊着，竭力把头贴在他的胸前，“今晚那位老先生，还有那位可一爱一的小一姐，答应替一我在外国安一个家，让我清静安宁地过完这一辈子。我再去找他们，跪下求他们对你也发发这样的慈悲和善心，让我们俩离开这个可怕的地方，你我离得远远的，过干净一些的日子，除了祷告的时候以外，忘掉我们以前过的日子，彼此永不见面。悔过永远不会太晚，他们对我就是这样说的――眼下我才知道――可我们需要时间――只要一点点时间。”
那个强盗终于腾出一条胳臂，握住了他的手槍。尽管正在火头上，他脑海里也闪过了这样一个念头：只要一开槍，肯定倾刻败露。他使出浑身力气，照着姑一娘一仰起的面孔（差一点儿就触到他自己的脸了），用槍一柄一猛击了两下。
她身一子一晃倒了下去，鲜血从额上一道深深的伤口里涌一出，几乎糊住了她的眼睛，但她吃力地挺身跪起来，从怀里掏出一张白色的手绢――露丝梅莱的一张手绢――强撑着软一软的身一子，双手十指一交一叉，握着手绢，高高地朝天举起，向创造了她的上帝低声祈祷，恳求宽恕。
这幅景象看上去太可怕了。凶手跌跌撞撞地退到墙边，一只手遮住自己的视线，另一只手抓起一根粗一大的棒子，将她击倒。