adam bede(亚当[1].比德)-第148节
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saw the hand of his watch at six。 “If there’s any news come； we
shall hear about it。”
The people were astir already； moving rapidly； in one direction；
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through the streets。 Adam tried not to think where they were
going； as they hurried past him in that short space between his
lodging and the prison gates。 He was thankful when the gates shut
him in from seeing those eager people。
No； there was no news come—no pardon—no reprieve。
Adam lingered in the court half an hour before he could bring
himself to send word to Dinah that he was come。 But a voice
caught his ear： he could not shut out the words。
“The cart is to set off at half…past seven。”
It must be said—the last good…bye： there was no help。
In ten minutes from that time； Adam was at the door of the cell。
Dinah had sent him word that she could not come to him； she
could not leave Hetty one moment； but Hetty was prepared for the
meeting。
He could not see her when he entered； for agitation deadened
his senses； and the dim cell was almost dark to him。 He stood a
moment after the door closed behind him； trembling and
stupefied。
But he began to see through the dimness—to see the dark eyes
lifted up to him once more； but with no smile in them。 O God； how
sad they looked！ The last time they had met his was when he
parted from her with his heart full of joyous hopeful love； and they
looked out with a tearful smile from a pink； dimpled； childish face。
The face was marble now； the sweet lips were pallid and half…open
and quivering； the dimples were all gone—all but one； that never
went； and the eyes—O； the worst of all was the likeness they had
to Hetty’s。 They were Hetty’s eyes looking at him with that
mournful gaze； as if she had come back to him from the dead to
tell him of her misery。
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She was clinging close to Dinah； her cheek was against Dinah’s。
It seemed as if her last faint strength and hope lay in that contact；
and the pitying love that shone out from Dinah’s face looked like a
visible pledge of the Invisible Mercy。
When the sad eyes met—when Hetty and Adam looked at each
other—she felt the change in him too； and it seemed to strike her
with fresh fear。 It was the first time she had seen any being whose
face seemed to reflect the change in herself： Adam was a new
image of the dreadful past and the dreadful present。 She trembled
more as she looked at him。
“Speak to him； Hetty；” Dinah said； “tell him what is in your
heart。”
Hetty obeyed her； like a little child。
“Adam 。 。 。 I’m very sorry 。 。 。 I behaved very wrong to you 。 。 。
will you forgive me 。 。 。 before I die？”
Adam answered with a half…sob； “Yes； I forgive thee Hetty。 I
forgave thee long ago。”
It had seemed to Adam as if his brain would burst with the
anguish of meeting Hetty’s eyes in the first moments； but the
sound of her voice uttering these penitent words touched a chord
which had been less strained。 There was a sense of relief from
what was becoming unbearable； and the rare tears came—they
had never come before； since he had hung on Seth’s neck in the
beginning of his sorrow。
Hetty made an involuntary movement towards him； some of the
love that she had once lived in the midst of was come near her
again。 She kept hold of Dinah’s hand； but she went up to Adam
and said timidly； “Will you kiss me again； Adam； for all I’ve been
so wicked？”
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Adam took the blanched wasted hand she put out to him； and
they gave each other the solemn unspeakable kiss of a lifelong
parting。
“And tell him；” Hetty said； in rather a stronger voice； “tell him 。
。 。 for there’s nobody else to tell him 。 。 。 as I went after him and
couldn’t find him 。 。 。 and I hated him and cursed him once 。 。 。 but
Dinah says I should forgive him 。 。 。 and I try 。 。 。 for else God won’t
forgive me。”
There was a noise at the door of the cell now—the key was
being turned in the lock； and when the door opened； Adam saw
indistinctly that there were several faces there。 He was too
agitated to see more—even to see that Mr。 Irwine’s face was one of
them。 He felt that the last preparations were beginning； and he
could stay no longer。 Room was silently made for him to depart；
and he went to his chamber in loneliness； leaving Bartle Massey to
watch and see the end。
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Chapter XLVII
The Last Moment
t was a sight that some people remembered better even than
their own sorrows—the sight in that grey clear morning； when
I
the fatal cart with the two young women in it was descried by
the waiting watching multitude； cleaving its way towards the
hideous symbol of a deliberately inflicted sudden death。
All Stoniton had heard of Dinah Morris； the young Methodist
woman who had brought the obstinate criminal to confess； and
there was as much eagerness to see her as to see the wretched
Hetty。
But Dinah was hardly conscious of the multitude。 When Hetty
had caught sight of the vast crowd in the distance； she had
clutched Dinah convulsively。
“Close your eyes； Hetty；” Dinah said； “and let us pray without
ceasing to God。”
And in a low voice； as the cart went slowly along through the
midst of the gazing crowd； she poured forth her soul with the
wrestling intensity of a last pleading； for the trembling creature
that clung to her and clutched her as the only visible sign of love
and pity。
Dinah did not know that the crowd was silent； gazing at her
with a sort of awe—she did not even know how near they were to
the fatal spot； when the cart stopped； and she shrank appalled at a
loud shout hideous to her ear； like a vast yell of demons。 Hetty’s
shriek mingled with the sound； and they clasped each other in
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mutual horror。
But it was not a shout of execration—not a yell of exultant
cruelty。
It was a shout of sudden excitement at the appearance of a
horseman cleaving the crowd at full gallop。 The horse is hot and
distressed； but answers to the desperate spurring； the rider looks
as if his eyes were glazed by madness； and he saw nothing but
what was unseen by others。 See； he has something in his hand—he
is holding it up as if it were a signal。
The Sheriff knows him： it is Arthur Donnithorne； carrying in
his hand a hard…won release from death。
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Chapter XLVIII
Another Meeting in the Wood
he next day； at evening； two men were walking from
opposite points towards the same scene； drawn thither by
T
a common memory。 The scene was the Grove by
Donnithorne Chase： you know who the men were。
The old squire’s funeral had taken pla
