English
Thecourtwaspaved,fromfloortoroof,withhumanfaces.
Inquisitiveandeagereyespeeredfromeveryinchofspace.
Fromtherailbeforethedock,awayintothesharpestangleofthesmallestcornerinthegalleries,alllookswerefixedupononeman—Fagin.
Beforehimandbehind:above,below,ontherightandontheleft:heseemedtostandsurroundedbyafirmament,allbrightwithgleamingeyes.
Hestoodthere,inallthisglareoflivinglight,withonehandrestingonthewoodenslabbeforehim,theotherheldtohisear,andhisheadthrustforwardtoenablehimtocatchwithgreaterdistinctnesseverywordthatfellfromthepresidingjudge,whowasdeliveringhischargetothejury.
Attimes,heturnedhiseyessharplyuponthemtoobservetheeffectoftheslightestfeatherweightinhisfavour;andwhenthepointsagainsthimwerestatedwithterribledistinctness,lookedtowardshiscounsel,inmuteappealthathewould,eventhen,urgesomethinginhisbehalf.
Beyondthesemanifestationsofanxiety,hestirrednothandorfoot.
Hehadscarcelymovedsincethetrialbegan;andnowthatthejudgeceasedtospeak,hestillremainedinthesamestrainedattitudeofcloseattention,withhisgazebentonhim,asthoughhelistenedstill.
Aslightbustleinthecourt,recalledhimtohimself.
Lookinground,hesawthatthejurymanhadturnedtogether,toconsidertheirverdict.
Ashiseyeswanderedtothegallery,hecouldseethepeoplerisingaboveeachothertoseehisface:somehastilyapplyingtheirglassestotheireyes:andotherswhisperingtheirneighbourswithlooksexpressiveofabhorrence.
Afewtherewere,whoseemedunmindfulofhim,andlookedonlytothejury,inimpatientwonderhowtheycoulddelay.
Butinnooneface—notevenamongthewomen,ofwhomthereweremanythere—couldhereadthefaintestsympathywithhimself,oranyfeelingbutoneofall-absorbinginterestthatheshouldbecondemned.
Ashesawallthisinonebewilderedglance,thedeathlikestillnesscameagain,andlookingbackhesawthatthejurymenhadturnedtowardsthejudge.Hush!
Theyonlysoughtpermissiontoretire.
Helooked,wistfully,intotheirfaces,onebyonewhentheypassedout,asthoughtoseewhichwaythegreaternumberleant;butthatwasfruitless.Thejailertouchedhimontheshoulder.
Hefollowedmechanicallytotheendofthedock,andsatdownonachair.
Themanpointeditout,orhewouldnothaveseenit.
Helookedupintothegalleryagain.Someofthepeoplewereeating,andsomefanningthemselveswithhandkerchiefs;forthecrowdedplacewasveryhot.
Therewasoneyoungmansketchinghisfaceinalittlenote-book.
Hewonderedwhetheritwaslike,andlookedonwhentheartistbrokehispencil-point,andmadeanotherwithhisknife,asanyidlespectatormighthavedone.
Inthesameway,whenheturnedhiseyestowardsthejudge,hismindbegantobusyitselfwiththefashionofhisdress,andwhatitcost,andhowheputiton.
Therewasanoldfatgentlemanonthebench,too,whohadgoneout,somehalfanhourbefore,andnowcomeback.
Hewonderedwithinhimselfwhetherthismanhadbeentogethisdinner,whathehadhad,andwherehehadhadit;andpursuedthistrainofcarelessthoughtuntilsomenewobjectcaughthiseyeandrousedanother.
Notthat,allthistime,hismindwas,foraninstant,freefromoneoppressiveoverwhelmingsenseofthegravethatopenedathisfeet;itwaseverpresenttohim,butinavagueandgeneralway,andhecouldnotfixhisthoughtsuponit.
Thus,evenwhilehetrembled,andturnedburninghotattheideaofspeedydeath,hefelltocountingtheironspikesbeforehim,andwonderinghowtheheadofonehadbeenbrokenoff,andwhethertheywouldmendit,orleaveitasitwas.
Then,hethoughtofallthehorrorsofthegallowsandthescaffold—andstoppedtowatchamansprinklingthefloortocoolit—andthenwentontothinkagain.
Atlengththerewasacryofsilence,andabreathlesslookfromalltowardsthedoor.
Thejuryreturned,andpassedhimclose.
Hecouldgleannothingfromtheirfaces;theymightaswellhavebeenofstone.
Perfectstillnessensued—notarustle—notabreath—Guilty.
Thebuildingrangwithatremendousshout,andanother,andanother,andthenitechoedloudgroans,thatgatheredstrengthastheyswelledout,likeangrythunder.
Itwasapealofjoyfromthepopulaceoutside,greetingthenewsthathewoulddieonMonday.
Thenoisesubsided,andhewasaskedifhehadanythingtosaywhysentenceofdeathshouldnotbepasseduponhim.
Hehadresumedhislisteningattitude,andlookedintentlyathisquestionerwhilethedemandwasmade;butitwastwicerepeatedbeforeheseemedtohearit,andthenheonlymutteredthathewasanoldman—anoldman—andso,droppingintoawhisper,wassilentagain.
Thejudgeassumedtheblackcap,andtheprisonerstillstoodwiththesameairandgesture.
Awomaninthegallery,utteredsomeexclamation,calledforthbythisdreadsolemnity;helookedhastilyupasifangryattheinterruption,andbentforwardyetmoreattentively.
Theaddresswassolemnandimpressive;thesentencefearfultohear.
Buthestood,likeamarblefigure,withoutthemotionofanerve.
Hishaggardfacewasstillthrustforward,hisunder-jawhangingdown,andhiseyesstaringoutbeforehim,whenthejailerputhishanduponhisarm,andbeckonedhimaway.
Hegazedstupidlyabouthimforaninstant,andobeyed.
Theyledhimthroughapavedroomunderthecourt,wheresomeprisonerswerewaitingtilltheirturnscame,andothersweretalkingtotheirfriends,whocrowdedroundagratewhichlookedintotheopenyard.
Therewasnobodytheretospeaktohim;but,ashepassed,theprisonersfellbacktorenderhimmorevisibletothepeoplewhowereclingingtothebars:andtheyassailedhimwithopprobriousnames,andscreechedandhissed.
Heshookhisfist,andwouldhavespatuponthem;buthisconductorshurriedhimon,throughagloomypassagelightedbyafewdimlamps,intotheinterioroftheprison.
Here,hewassearched,thathemightnothaveabouthimthemeansofanticipatingthelaw;thisceremonyperformed,theyledhimtooneofthecondemnedcells,andlefthimthere—alone.
Hesatdownonastonebenchoppositethedoor,whichservedforseatandbedstead;andcastinghisblood-shoteyesupontheground,triedtocollecthisthoughts.
Afterawhile,hebegantorememberafewdisjointedfragmentsofwhatthejudgehadsaid:thoughithadseemedtohim,atthetime,thathecouldnothearaword.
Thesegraduallyfellintotheirproperplaces,andbydegreessuggestedmore:sothatinalittletimehehadthewhole,almostasitwasdelivered.
Tobehangedbytheneck,tillhewasdead—thatwastheend.
Tobehangedbythenecktillhewasdead.
Asitcameonverydark,hebegantothinkofallthemenhehadknownwhohaddieduponthescaffold;someofthemthroughhismeans.
Theyroseup,insuchquicksuccession,thathecouldhardlycountthem.
Hehadseensomeofthemdie,—andhadjokedtoo,becausetheydiedwithprayersupontheirlips.
Withwhatarattlingnoisethedropwentdown;andhowsuddenlytheychanged,fromstrongandvigorousmentodanglingheapsofclothes!
Someofthemmighthaveinhabitedthatverycell—satuponthatveryspot.
Itwasverydark;whydidn’ttheybringalight?Thecellhadbeenbuiltformanyyears.
Scoresofmenmusthavepassedtheirlasthoursthere.
Itwaslikesittinginavaultstrewnwithdeadbodies—thecap,thenoose,thepinionedarms,thefacesthatheknew,evenbeneaththathideousveil.—Light,light!
Atlength,whenhishandswererawwithbeatingagainsttheheavydoorandwalls,twomenappeared:onebearingacandle,whichhethrustintoanironcandlestickfixedagainstthewall:theotherdragginginamattressonwhichtopassthenight;fortheprisonerwastobeleftalonenomore.
Thencamethenight—dark,dismal,silentnight.
Otherwatchersaregladtohearthischurch-clockstrike,fortheytelloflifeandcomingday.Tohimtheybroughtdespair.
Theboomofeveryironbellcameladenwiththeone,deep,hollowsound—Death.
Whatavailedthenoiseandbustleofcheerfulmorning,whichpenetratedeventhere,tohim?
Itwasanotherformofknell,withmockeryaddedtothewarning.
Thedaypassedoff.Day?
Therewasnoday;itwasgoneassoonascome—andnightcameonagain;nightsolong,andyetsoshort;longinitsdreadfulsilence,andshortinitsfleetinghours.
Atonetimeheravedandblasphemed;andatanotherhowledandtorehishair.
Venerablemenofhisownpersuasionhadcometopraybesidehim,buthehaddriventhemawaywithcurses.
Theyrenewedtheircharitableefforts,andhebeatthemoff.
Saturdaynight.Hehadonlyonenightmoretolive.Andashethoughtofthis,thedaybroke—Sunday.
Itwasnotuntilthenightofthislastawfulday,thatawitheringsenseofhishelpless,desperatestatecameinitsfullintensityuponhisblightedsoul;notthathehadeverheldanydefinedorpositivehopeofmercy,butthathehadneverbeenabletoconsidermorethanthedimprobabilityofdyingsosoon.
Hehadspokenlittletoeitherofthetwomen,whorelievedeachotherintheirattendanceuponhim;andthey,fortheirparts,madenoefforttorousehisattention.Hehadsatthere,awake,butdreaming.
Now,hestartedup,everyminute,andwithgaspingmouthandburningskin,hurriedtoandfro,insuchaparoxysmoffearandwraththateventhey—usedtosuchsights—recoiledfromhimwithhorror.
Hegrewsoterrible,atlast,inallthetorturesofhisevilconscience,thatonemancouldnotbeartositthere,eyeinghimalone;andsothetwokeptwatchtogether.
Hecowereddownuponhisstonebed,andthoughtofthepast.
Hehadbeenwoundedwithsomemissilesfromthecrowdonthedayofhiscapture,andhisheadwasbandagedwithalinencloth.
Hisredhairhungdownuponhisbloodlessface;hisbeardwastorn,andtwistedintoknots;hiseyesshonewithaterriblelight;hisunwashedfleshcrackledwiththefeverthatburnthimup.Eight—nine—then.
Ifitwasnotatricktofrightenhim,andthoseweretherealhourstreadingoneachother’sheels,wherewouldhebe,whentheycameroundagain!Eleven!
Anotherstruck,beforethevoiceoftheprevioushourhadceasedtovibrate.
Ateight,hewouldbetheonlymournerinhisownfuneraltrain;ateleven—
ThosedreadfulwallsofNewgate,whichhavehiddensomuchmiseryandsuchunspeakableanguish,notonlyfromtheeyes,but,toooften,andtoolong,fromthethoughts,ofmen,neverheldsodreadaspectacleasthat.
Thefewwholingeredastheypassed,andwonderedwhatthemanwasdoingwhowastobehangedto-morrow,wouldhavesleptbutillthatnight,iftheycouldhaveseenhim.
Fromearlyintheeveninguntilnearlymidnight,littlegroupsoftwoandthreepresentedthemselvesatthelodge-gate,andinquired,withanxiousfaces,whetheranyreprievehadbeenreceived.
Thesebeingansweredinthenegative,communicatedthewelcomeintelligencetoclustersinthestreet,whopointedouttooneanotherthedoorfromwhichhemustcomeout,andshowedwherethescaffoldwouldbebuilt,and,walkingwithunwillingstepsaway,turnedbacktoconjureupthescene.
Bydegreestheyfelloff,onebyone;and,foranhour,inthedeadofnight,thestreetwaslefttosolitudeanddarkness.
Thespacebeforetheprisonwascleared,andafewstrongbarriers,paintedblack,hadbeenalreadythrownacrosstheroadtobreakthepressureoftheexpectedcrowd,whenMr.BrownlowandOliverappearedatthewicket,andpresentedanorderofadmissiontotheprisoner,signedbyoneofthesheriffs.
Theywereimmediatelyadmittedintothelodge.
‘Istheyounggentlemantocometoo,sir?’saidthemanwhosedutyitwastoconductthem.‘It’snotasightforchildren,sir.’
‘Itisnotindeed,myfriend,’rejoinedMr.Brownlow;‘butmybusinesswiththismanisintimatelyconnectedwithhim;andasthischildhasseenhiminthefullcareerofhissuccessandvillainy,Ithinkitaswell—evenatthecostofsomepainandfear—thatheshouldseehimnow.’
Thesefewwordshadbeensaidapart,soastobeinaudibletoOliver.
Themantouchedhishat;andglancingatOliverwithsomecuriousity,openedanothergate,oppositetothatbywhichtheyhadentered,andledthemon,throughdarkandwindingways,towardsthecells.
‘This,’saidtheman,stoppinginagloomypassagewhereacoupleofworkmenweremakingsomepreparationsinprofoundsilence—’thisistheplacehepassesthrough.
Ifyoustepthisway,youcanseethedoorhegoesoutat.’
Heledthemintoastonekitchen,fittedwithcoppersfordressingtheprisonfood,andpointedtoadoor.
Therewasanopengratingaboveit,throughwhichcamethesoundofmen’svoices,mingledwiththenoiseofhammering,andthethrowingdownofboards.Therewereputtingupthescaffold.
Fromthisplace,theypassedthroughseveralstronggates,openedbyotherturnkeysfromtheinnerside;and,havingenteredanopenyard,ascendedaflightofnarrowsteps,andcameintoapassagewitharowofstrongdoorsonthelefthand.
Motioningthemtoremainwheretheywere,theturnkeyknockedatoneofthesewithhisbunchofkeys.
Thetwoattendants,afteralittlewhispering,cameoutintothepassage,stretchingthemselvesasifgladofthetemporaryrelief,andmotionedthevisitorstofollowthejailerintothecell.Theydidso.
Thecondemnedcriminalwasseatedonhisbed,rockinghimselffromsidetoside,withacountenancemorelikethatofasnaredbeastthanthefaceofaman.
Hismindwasevidentlywanderingtohisoldlife,forhecontinuedtomutter,withoutappearingconsciousoftheirpresenceotherwisethanasapartofhisvision.
‘Goodboy,Charley—welldone—’hemumbled.‘Oliver,too,ha!ha!ha!Olivertoo—quitethegentlemannow—quitethe—takethatboyawaytobed!’
ThejailertookthedisengagedhandofOliver;and,whisperinghimnottobealarmed,lookedonwithoutspeaking.
‘Takehimawaytobed!’criedFagin.‘Doyouhearme,someofyou?
Hehasbeenthe—the—somehowthecauseofallthis.
It’sworththemoneytobringhimuptoit—Bolter’sthroat,Bill;nevermindthegirl—Bolter’sthroatasdeepasyoucancut.Sawhisheadoff!’
‘Fagin,’saidthejailer.
‘That’sme!’criedtheJew,fallinginstantly,intotheattitudeoflisteninghehadassumeduponhistrial.‘Anoldman,myLord;averyold,oldman!’
‘Here,’saidtheturnkey,layinghishanduponhisbreasttokeephimdown.‘Here’ssomebodywantstoseeyou,toaskyousomequestions,Isuppose.Fagin,Fagin!Areyouaman?’
‘Ishan’tbeonelong,’hereplied,lookingupwithafaceretainingnohumanexpressionbutrageandterror.‘Strikethemalldead!Whatrighthavetheytobutcherme?’
AshespokehecaughtsightofOliverandMr.Brownlow.Shrinkingtothefurthestcorneroftheseat,hedemandedtoknowwhattheywantedthere.
‘Steady,’saidtheturnkey,stillholdinghimdown.‘Now,sir,tellhimwhatyouwant.Quick,ifyouplease,forhegrowsworseasthetimegetson.’
‘Youhavesomepapers,’saidMr.Brownlowadvancing,‘whichwereplacedinyourhands,forbettersecurity,byamancalledMonks.’
‘It’sallalietogether,’repliedFagin.‘Ihaven’tone—notone.’
‘FortheloveofGod,’saidMr.Brownlowsolemnly,‘donotsaythatnow,upontheveryvergeofdeath;buttellmewheretheyare.
YouknowthatSikesisdead;thatMonkshasconfessed;thatthereisnohopeofanyfurthergain.Wherearethosepapers?’
‘Oliver,’criedFagin,beckoningtohim.‘Here,here!Letmewhispertoyou.’
‘Iamnotafraid,’saidOliverinalowvoice,asherelinquishedMr.Brownlow’shand.
‘Thepapers,’saidFagin,drawingOlivertowardshim,‘areinacanvasbag,inaholealittlewayupthechimneyinthetopfront-room.Iwanttotalktoyou,mydear.Iwanttotalktoyou.’
‘Yes,yes,’returnedOliver.‘Letmesayaprayer.Do!Letmesayoneprayer.Sayonlyone,uponyourknees,withme,andwewilltalktillmorning.’
‘Outside,outside,’repliedFagin,pushingtheboybeforehimtowardsthedoor,andlookingvacantlyoverhishead.
‘SayI’vegonetosleep—they’llbelieveyou.Youcangetmeout,ifyoutakemeso.Nowthen,nowthen!’
‘Oh!Godforgivethiswretchedman!’criedtheboywithaburstoftears.
‘That’sright,that’sright,’saidFagin.‘That’llhelpuson.Thisdoorfirst.IfIshakeandtremble,aswepassthegallows,don’tyoumind,buthurryon.Now,now,now!’
‘Haveyounothingelsetoaskhim,sir?’inquiredtheturnkey.
‘Nootherquestion,’repliedMr.Brownlow.‘IfIhopedwecouldrecallhimtoasenseofhisposition—’
‘Nothingwilldothat,sir,’repliedtheman,shakinghishead.‘Youhadbetterleavehim.’
Thedoorofthecellopened,andtheattendantsreturned.
‘Presson,presson,’criedFagin.‘Softly,butnotsoslow.Faster,faster!’
Themenlaidhandsuponhim,anddisengagingOliverfromhisgrasp,heldhimback.
Hestruggledwiththepowerofdesperation,foraninstant;andthensentupcryuponcrythatpenetratedeventhosemassivewalls,andrangintheirearsuntiltheyreachedtheopenyard.
Itwassometimebeforetheylefttheprison.Olivernearlyswoonedafterthisfrightfulscene,andwassoweakthatforanhourormore,hehadnotthestrengthtowalk.
Daywasdawningwhentheyagainemerged.
Agreatmultitudehadalreadyassembled;thewindowswerefilledwithpeople,smokingandplayingcardstobeguilethetime;thecrowdwerepushing,quarrelling,joking.
Everythingtoldoflifeandanimation,butonedarkclusterofobjectsinthecentreofall—theblackstage,thecross-beam,therope,andallthehideousapparatusofdeath.
Share this article to
FINISH