[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
rose before my eyes, out of the half dark, a woman's face, and looked at me.
At first I
could scarcely believe my own eyes. I rubbed them and looked again. It was
still there, apparently hanging in midair above the horse I was driving. It
was not, if one may judge by the photographs of famous beauties, a perfect
face, but there was that in it that made it to me the most captivating I had
ever seen in my life I
refer to the expression of gentleness and womanly goodness that animated it.
The contour of the face was oval, the mouth small and wellshaped, and the eyes
large, true, and unflinching. Though it only appeared before me for a few
seconds, I had time to take thorough stock of it, and to remember every
feature. It seemed to be looking straight at me, and the mouth to be saying as
plainly as any words could speak"
Think of what you are doing, Gilbert Pennethorne; remember the shame of it,
and be true to yourself." Then she faded away; and, as she went, a veil that
had been covering my eyes for months seemed now to drop from them, and I saw
myself for what I really wasa coward and a wouldbe murderer.
We were then passing down a side street, in which fortunately for what I was
about to dothere was not a single person of any sort to be seen. Happen what
might, I would now stop the cab and tell the man inside who I was and with
what purpose I had picked him up. Then he should go free, and in letting him
understand
THE LUST OF HATE
CHAPTER III. THE LUST OF HATE.
36
that I had spared his life I would have ray revenge. With this intention I
pulled my horse up, and, unwrapping my rug from my knees, descended from my
perch. I had drawn up the glass before dismounting, the better to be able to
talk to him.
"Mr. Bartrand," I said, when I had reached the pavement, at the same time
pulling off my false beard and my sou'wester, "this business has gone far
enough, and I am now going to tell you who I am and what I wanted with you.
Do you know me?"
Either he was asleep or he was too surprised at seeing me before him to
speak, at any rate he offered no reply to my question.
"Mr. Bartrand," I began again, "I ask you if you are aware who I am?"
Still no answer was vouchsafed to me, and immediately an overwhelming fear
Page 40
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
took possession of me. I
sprang upon the step and tore open the apron. What I saw inside made me
recoil with terror. In the corner, his head thrown back and his whole body
rigid, lay the unfortunate man I had first determined to kill, but had since
decided to spare. ran my hands, all trembling with terror, over his body.
I
The man was deadand I
had killed him.
By some mischance I must have pressed the spring which opened the valve, and
thus the awful result had been achieved. Though years have elapsed since it
happened, I can feel the agony of that moment as plainly now as if it was but
yesterday.
When I understood that the man was really dead, and that I was his
murdererbranded henceforth with the mark of CainI sat down on the pavement in
a cold sweat of terror, trembling in every limb. The face of the whole world
had changed within the past few minutesnow I knew I could never be like other
men again.
Already the fatal noose was tightening round my neck.
While these thoughts were racing through my brain, my ears, now
preternaturally sharp, had detected the ring of a footstep on the pavement a
hundred yards or so away. Instantly I sprang to my feet, my mind alert and
nimble, my whole body instinct with the thought of selfpreservation. Whatever
happened I must not be caught, redhanded, with the body of the murdered man
in my possession. At any risk I must rid myself of that, and speedily, too.
Climbing to my perch again I started my horse off at a rapid pace in the same
direction in which I had been proceeding when I had made my awful discovery.
On reaching the first crossroads I branched off to the right, and,
discovering that to be a busy thoroughfare, turned to the left again. Never
before had my fellowman inspired me with such terror. At last I found a
deserted street, and was in the act of pressing the lever with my foot when a
door in a house just ahead of me opened, and a party of ladies and gentlemen
issued from it. Some went in one direction, others in a contrary, and I was
between both. To drop the body where they could see it would be worse than
madness, so, almost cursing them for interrupting me, I lashed my horse and
darted round the first available corner. Once more I found a quiet place, but
this time I was interrupted by a cab turning into the street and coming along
behind me. The third time, however, was more successful. I looked carefully
about me. The street was empty in front and behind. On either side were rows
of respectable middleclass houses, with never a light in a window or a
policeman to be seen.
Trembling like a leaf, I stopped the cab, and when I had made sure that there
was no one looking, placed my foot upon the lever. So perfect was the
mechanism that it acted instantly, and, what was better still, without noise.
Next moment Bartrand was lying upon his back in the centre of the road. As
soon as his weight released it the bottom of the vehicle rose, and I heard
the spring click as it took its place again. Before I drove on I turned and
looked at him where he lay so still and cold on the pure white snow, and
thought of the day at
Markapurlie, when he had turned me off the station for wanting to doctor poor
Ben Garman, and also of the morning when I had denounced him to the miners on
the Boolga Bange, after I had discovered that he had
THE LUST OF HATE
CHAPTER III. THE LUST OF HATE.
37
stolen my secret and appropriated my wealth. How little either of us thought
then what the end of our hatred was to be! If I had been told on the first
day we had met that I should murder him, and that he would ultimately be
found lying dead in the centre of a London street, I very much doubt if
Page 41
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
either of us would have believed it possible. But how horribly true it was!
As to what I was now, there could be no question. The ghastly verdict was
selfevident, and the word rang in my brain with a significance I had never
imagined it to possess before. It seemed to be written upon the houses, to be
printed upon the snowcurdled sky. Even the roll of the wheels beneath me
proclaimed me a murderer. Until that time I had had no real conception of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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rose before my eyes, out of the half dark, a woman's face, and looked at me.
At first I
could scarcely believe my own eyes. I rubbed them and looked again. It was
still there, apparently hanging in midair above the horse I was driving. It
was not, if one may judge by the photographs of famous beauties, a perfect
face, but there was that in it that made it to me the most captivating I had
ever seen in my life I
refer to the expression of gentleness and womanly goodness that animated it.
The contour of the face was oval, the mouth small and wellshaped, and the eyes
large, true, and unflinching. Though it only appeared before me for a few
seconds, I had time to take thorough stock of it, and to remember every
feature. It seemed to be looking straight at me, and the mouth to be saying as
plainly as any words could speak"
Think of what you are doing, Gilbert Pennethorne; remember the shame of it,
and be true to yourself." Then she faded away; and, as she went, a veil that
had been covering my eyes for months seemed now to drop from them, and I saw
myself for what I really wasa coward and a wouldbe murderer.
We were then passing down a side street, in which fortunately for what I was
about to dothere was not a single person of any sort to be seen. Happen what
might, I would now stop the cab and tell the man inside who I was and with
what purpose I had picked him up. Then he should go free, and in letting him
understand
THE LUST OF HATE
CHAPTER III. THE LUST OF HATE.
36
that I had spared his life I would have ray revenge. With this intention I
pulled my horse up, and, unwrapping my rug from my knees, descended from my
perch. I had drawn up the glass before dismounting, the better to be able to
talk to him.
"Mr. Bartrand," I said, when I had reached the pavement, at the same time
pulling off my false beard and my sou'wester, "this business has gone far
enough, and I am now going to tell you who I am and what I wanted with you.
Do you know me?"
Either he was asleep or he was too surprised at seeing me before him to
speak, at any rate he offered no reply to my question.
"Mr. Bartrand," I began again, "I ask you if you are aware who I am?"
Still no answer was vouchsafed to me, and immediately an overwhelming fear
Page 40
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
took possession of me. I
sprang upon the step and tore open the apron. What I saw inside made me
recoil with terror. In the corner, his head thrown back and his whole body
rigid, lay the unfortunate man I had first determined to kill, but had since
decided to spare. ran my hands, all trembling with terror, over his body.
I
The man was deadand I
had killed him.
By some mischance I must have pressed the spring which opened the valve, and
thus the awful result had been achieved. Though years have elapsed since it
happened, I can feel the agony of that moment as plainly now as if it was but
yesterday.
When I understood that the man was really dead, and that I was his
murdererbranded henceforth with the mark of CainI sat down on the pavement in
a cold sweat of terror, trembling in every limb. The face of the whole world
had changed within the past few minutesnow I knew I could never be like other
men again.
Already the fatal noose was tightening round my neck.
While these thoughts were racing through my brain, my ears, now
preternaturally sharp, had detected the ring of a footstep on the pavement a
hundred yards or so away. Instantly I sprang to my feet, my mind alert and
nimble, my whole body instinct with the thought of selfpreservation. Whatever
happened I must not be caught, redhanded, with the body of the murdered man
in my possession. At any risk I must rid myself of that, and speedily, too.
Climbing to my perch again I started my horse off at a rapid pace in the same
direction in which I had been proceeding when I had made my awful discovery.
On reaching the first crossroads I branched off to the right, and,
discovering that to be a busy thoroughfare, turned to the left again. Never
before had my fellowman inspired me with such terror. At last I found a
deserted street, and was in the act of pressing the lever with my foot when a
door in a house just ahead of me opened, and a party of ladies and gentlemen
issued from it. Some went in one direction, others in a contrary, and I was
between both. To drop the body where they could see it would be worse than
madness, so, almost cursing them for interrupting me, I lashed my horse and
darted round the first available corner. Once more I found a quiet place, but
this time I was interrupted by a cab turning into the street and coming along
behind me. The third time, however, was more successful. I looked carefully
about me. The street was empty in front and behind. On either side were rows
of respectable middleclass houses, with never a light in a window or a
policeman to be seen.
Trembling like a leaf, I stopped the cab, and when I had made sure that there
was no one looking, placed my foot upon the lever. So perfect was the
mechanism that it acted instantly, and, what was better still, without noise.
Next moment Bartrand was lying upon his back in the centre of the road. As
soon as his weight released it the bottom of the vehicle rose, and I heard
the spring click as it took its place again. Before I drove on I turned and
looked at him where he lay so still and cold on the pure white snow, and
thought of the day at
Markapurlie, when he had turned me off the station for wanting to doctor poor
Ben Garman, and also of the morning when I had denounced him to the miners on
the Boolga Bange, after I had discovered that he had
THE LUST OF HATE
CHAPTER III. THE LUST OF HATE.
37
stolen my secret and appropriated my wealth. How little either of us thought
then what the end of our hatred was to be! If I had been told on the first
day we had met that I should murder him, and that he would ultimately be
found lying dead in the centre of a London street, I very much doubt if
Page 41
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
either of us would have believed it possible. But how horribly true it was!
As to what I was now, there could be no question. The ghastly verdict was
selfevident, and the word rang in my brain with a significance I had never
imagined it to possess before. It seemed to be written upon the houses, to be
printed upon the snowcurdled sky. Even the roll of the wheels beneath me
proclaimed me a murderer. Until that time I had had no real conception of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]