书城公版MARY BARTON
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第89章

I axed th' nurse to find out who she was, and where she lived. But what I'm more especial naming it now for is this,--for one thing I wanted you all to know why I weren't at my post this morning; for an other, I wish to say, that I, for one, ha' seen enough of what comes of attacking knob-sticks, and I'll ha' nought to do with it no more. There were some expressions of disapprobation, but John did not mind them. "Nay! I'm no coward," he replied, "and I'm true to th' backbone. What I would like, and what I would do, would be to fight the masters. There's one among yo called me a coward. Well! every man has a right to his opinion; but since I've thought on th' matter to-day, I've thought we han all on us been more like cowards in attacking the poor like ourselves; them as has none to help, but mun choose between vitriol and starvation. I say we're more cowardly in doing that than in leaving them alone. No! what I would do is this. Have at the masters!" Again he shouted, "Have at the masters!" He spoke lower; all listened with hushed breath. "It's the masters as has wrought this woe; it's the masters as shouldpay for it. Him as called me coward just now, may try if I am one or not. Set me to serve out the masters, and see if there's aught I'll stick at." "It would give th' masters a bit on a fright if one of them were beaten within an inch of his life," said one. "Aye! or beaten till no life were left in him, growled another. And so with words, or looks that told more than words, they built up a deadly plan. Deeper and darker grew the import of their speeches, as they stood hoarsely muttering their meaning out, and glaring, with eyes that told the terror their own thoughts were to them, upon their neighbours, Their clenched fists, their set teeth, their livid looks, all told the suffering which their minds were voluntarily undergoing in the contemplation of crime, and in familiarizing themselves with its details. Then came one of those fierce terrible oaths which bind members of Trades' Unions to any given purpose. Then, under the flaring gaslight, they met together to consult further. With the distrust of guilt, each was suspicious of his neighbour; each dreaded the treachery of another. A number of pieces of paper (the identical letter on which the caricature had been drawn that very morning) were torn up, and one was marked . Then all were folded up again, looking exactly alike. They were shuffled together in a hat.

The gas was extinguished; each drew out a paper. The gas was re-lighted.

Then each went as far as he could from his fellows, and examined the paper he hadwithout saying a word, and with a countenance as stony and immovable as he could make it. Then, still rigidly silent, they each took up their hats and went every one his own way. He who had drawn the marked paper had drawn the lot of the assassin! and he had sworn to act according to his drawing! But no one, save God and his own conscience, knew who was the appointed murderer.