按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
was come to risk the last adventure； to cast the bag away
from him； and take to flight。 And now in what was he to
place reliance？ His watch was slow； it might be losing time；
if so； in what degree？ What limit could he set to its
derangement？ and how much was it possible for a watch to lose
in thirty minutes？ Five？ ten？ fifteen？ It might be so；
already； it seemed years since he had left St。 James's Hall
on this so promising enterprise； at any moment； then； the
blow was to be looked for。
In the face of this new distress； the wild disorder of his
pulses settled down； and a broken weariness succeeded； as
though he had lived for centuries and for centuries been
dead。 The buildings and the people in the street became
incredibly small； and far…away； and bright； London sounded in
his ears stilly； like a whisper； and the rattle of the cab
that nearly charged him down； was like a sound from Africa。
Meanwhile； he was conscious of a strange abstraction from
himself； and heard and felt his footfalls on the ground； as
those of a very old； small； debile and tragically fortuned
man； whom he sincerely pitied。
As he was thus moving forward past the National Gallery； in a
medium； it seemed； of greater rarity and quiet than ordinary
air； there slipped into his mind the recollection of a
certain entry in Whitcomb Street hard by； where he might
perhaps lay down his tragic cargo unremarked。 Thither； then；
he bent his steps； seeming； as he went； to float above the
pavement； and there； in the mouth of the entry； he found a
man in a sleeved waistcoat； gravely chewing a straw。 He
passed him by； and twice patrolled the entry； scouting for
the barest chance； but the man had faced about and continued
to observe him curiously。
Another hope was gone。 M'Guire reissued from the entry；
still followed by the wondering eyes of the man in the
sleeved waistcoat。 He once more consulted his watch： there
were but fourteen minutes left to him。 At that； it seemed as
if a sudden； genial heat were spread about his brain； for a
second or two； he saw the world as red as blood； and
thereafter entered into a complete possession of himself；
with an incredible cheerfulness of spirits； prompting him to
sing and chuckle as he walked。 And yet this mirth seemed to
belong to things external； and within； like a black and
leaden…heavy kernel； he was conscious of the weight upon his
soul。
I care for nobody； no； not I；
And nobody cares for me；
he sang； and laughed at the appropriate burthen； so that the
passengers stared upon him on the street。 And still the
warmth seemed to increase and to become more genial。 What
was life？ he considered； and what he； M'Guire？ What even
Erin； our green Erin？ All seemed so incalculably little that
he smiled as he looked down upon it。 He would have given
years； had he possessed them； for a glass of spirits； but
time failed； and he must deny himself this last indulgence。
At the corner of the Haymarket； he very jauntily hailed a
hansom cab； jumped in； bade the fellow drive him to a part of
the Embankment； which he named； and as soon as the vehicle
was in motion； concealed the bag as completely as he could
under the vantage of the apron； and once more drew out his
watch。 So he rode for five interminable minutes； his heart
in his mouth at every jolt； scarce able to possess his
terrors； yet fearing to wake the attention of the driver by
too obvious a change of plan； and willing； if possible； to
leave him time to forget the Gladstone bag。
At length； at the head of some stairs on the Embankment； he
hailed； the cab was stopped； and he alighted … with how glad
a heart！ He thrust his hand into his pocket。 All was now
over； he had saved his life； nor that alone； but he had
engineered a striking act of dynamite； for what could be more
pictorial； what more effective； than the explosion of a
hansom cab； as it sped rapidly along the streets of London。
He felt in one pocket； then in another。 The most crushing
seizure of despair descended on his soul； and struck into
abject dumbness； he stared upon the driver。 He had not one
penny。
'Hillo；' said the driver； 'don't seem well。'
'Lost my money；' said M'Guire； in tones so faint and strange
that they surprised his hearing。
The man looked through the trap。 'I dessay；' said he：
'you've left your bag。'
M'Guire half unconsciously fetched it out； and looking on
that black continent at arm's length； withered inwardly and
felt his features sharpen as with mortal sickness。
'This is not mine；' said he。 'Your last fare must have left
it。 You had better take it to the station。'
'Now look here；' returned the cabman： 'are you off your
chump？ or am I？'
'Well； then； I'll tell you what；' exclaimed M'Guire； 'you
take it for your fare！'
'Oh； I dessay；' replied the driver。 'Anything else？ What's
IN your bag？ Open it； and let me see。'
'No； no；' returned M'Guire。 'Oh no； not that。 It's a
surprise； it's prepared expressly： a surprise for honest
cabmen。'
'No； you don't；' said the man； alighting from his perch； and
coming very close to the unhappy patriot。 'You're either
going to pay my fare； or get in again and drive to the
office。'
It was at this supreme hour of his distress； that M'Guire
spied the stout figure of one Godall； a tobacconist of Rupert
Street； drawing near along the Embankment。 The man was not
unknown to him； he had bought of his wares； and heard him
quoted for the soul of liberality； and such was now the
nearness of his peril； that even at such a straw of hope； he
clutched with gratitude。
'Thank God！' he cried。 'Here comes a friend of mine。 I'll
borrow。' And he dashed to meet the tradesman。 'Sir；' said
he； 'Mr。 Godall； I have dealt with you … you doubtless know
my face … calamities for which I cannot blame myself have
overwhelmed me。 Oh； sir； for the love of innocence； for the
sake of the bonds of humanity； and as you hope for mercy at
the throne of grace； lend me two…and…six！'
'I do not recognise your face；' replied Mr。 Godall； 'but I
remember the cut of your beard； which I have the misfortune
to dislike。 Here； sir； is a sovereign； which I very
willingly advance to you； on the single condition that you
shave your chin。'
M'Guire grasped the coin without a word； cast it to the
cabman； calling out to him to keep the change； bounded down
the steps； flung the bag far forth into the river； and fell
headlong after it。 He was plucked from a watery grave； it is
believed； by the hands of Mr。 Godall。 Even as he was being
hoisted dripping to the shore； a dull and choked explosion
shook the solid masonry of the Embankment； and far out in the
river a momentary fountain rose and disappeared。
THE SUPERFLUOUS MANSION （CONTINUED）
SOMERSET in vain strove to attach a meaning to these words。
He had； in the meanwhile； applied himself assiduously to the
flagon； the plotter began to melt in twain； and seemed to
expand and hover on his seat； and with a vague sense of
nightmare； the young man rose unsteadily to his feet； and；