He was especially anxious to be careful of what he said to a woman in the Prisoner’s terrible situation; especially in the event of her having been really subjected to the influence of religious belief. On the Minister’s own authority, I declared that there was every reason to adopt this conclusion; and in support of what I had said I showed him the confession1. It only contained a few lines, acknowledging that she had committed the murder and that she deserved her sentence. “From the planning of the crime to the commission of the crime, I was in my right senses throughout. I knew what I was doing.” With that remarkable2 disavowal of the defense3 set up by her advocate, the confession ended.
My colleague read the paper, and handed it back to me without making any remark. I asked if he suspected the Prisoner of feigning4 conversion5 to please the Minister.
“She shall not discover it,” he answered, gravely, “if I do.”
It would not be true to say that the Doctor’s obstinacy6 had shaken my belief in the good result of the Minister’s interference. I may, however, acknowledge that I felt some misgivings7, which were not dispelled8 when I found myself in the presence of the Prisoner.
I had expected to see her employed in reading the Bible. The good book was closed and was not even placed within her reach. The occupation to which she was devoting herself astonished and repelled9 me.
Some carelessness on the part of the attendant had left on the table the writing materials that had been needed for her confession. She was using them now—when death on the scaffold was literally10 within a few hours of her—to sketch11 a portrait of the female warder, who was on the watch! The Doctor and I looked at each other; and now the sincerity12 of her repentance13 was something that I began to question, too.
She laid down the pen, and proceeded quietly to explain herself.
“Even the little time that is left to me proves to be a weary time to get through,” she said. “I am making a last use of the talent for drawing and catching14 a likeness15, which has been one of my gifts since I was a girl. You look as if you didn’t approve of such employment as this for a woman who is going to be hanged. Well, sir, I have no doubt you are right.” She paused, and tore up the portrait. “If I have misbehaved myself,” she resumed, “I make amends16. To find you in an indulgent frame of mind is of importance to me just now. I have a favor to ask of you. May the warder leave the cell for a few minutes?”
Giving the woman permission to withdraw for a while, I waited with some anxiety to hear what the Prisoner wanted of me.
“I have something to say to you,” she proceeded, “on the subject of executions. The face of a person who is going to be hanged is hidden, as I have been told, by a white cap drawn17 over it. Is that true?”
How another man might have felt, in my place, I cannot, of course, say. To my mind, such a question—on her lips—was too shocking to be answered in words. I bowed.
“And the body is buried,” she went on, “in the prison?”
I could remain silent no longer. “Is there no human feeling left in you?” I burst out. “What do these horrid18 questions mean?”
“Don’t be angry with me, sir; you shall hear directly. I want to know first if I am to be buried in the prison?”
I replied as before, by a bow.
“Now,” she said, “I may tell you what I mean. In the autumn of last year I was taken to see some waxworks19. Portraits of criminals were among them. There was one portrait—” She hesitated; her infernal self-possession failed her at last. The color left her face; she was no longer able to look at me firmly. “There was one portrait,” she resumed, “that had been taken after the execution. The face was so hideous20; it was swollen21 to such a size in its frightful22 deformity—oh, sir, don’t let me be seen in that state, even by the strangers who bury me! Use your influence—forbid them to take the cap off my face when I am dead—order them to bury me in it, and I swear to you I’ll meet death tomorrow as coolly as the boldest man that ever mounted the scaffold!” Before I could stop her, she seized me by the hand, and wrung23 it with a furious power that left the mark of her grasp on me, in a bruise24, for days afterward25. “Will you do it?” she cried. “You’re an honorable man; you will keep your word. Give me your promise!”
I gave her my promise.
The relief to her tortured spirit expressed itself horribly in a burst of frantic26 laughter. “I can’t help it,” she gasped27; “I’m so happy.”
My enemies said of me, when I got my appointment, that I was too excitable a man to be governor of a prison. Perhaps they were not altogether wrong. Anyhow, the quick-witted Doctor saw some change in me, which I was not aware of myself. He took my arm and led me out of the cell. “Leave her to me,” he whispered. “The fine edge of my nerves was worn off long ago in the hospital.”
When we met again, I asked what had passed between the Prisoner and himself.
“I gave her time to recover,” he told me; “and, except that she looked a little paler than usual, there was no trace left of the frenzy28 that you remember. ‘I ought to apologize for troubling you,’ she said; ‘but it is perhaps natural that I should think, now and then, of what is to happen to me to-morrow morning. As a medical man, you will be able to enlighten me. Is death by hanging a painful death?’ She had put it so politely that I felt bound to answer her. ‘If the neck happens to be broken,’ I said, ‘hanging is a sudden death; fright and pain (if there is any pain) are both over in an instant. As to the other form of death which is also possible (I mean death by suffocation), I must own as an honest man that I know no more about it than you do.’ After considering a little, she made a sensible remark, and followed it by an embarrassing request. ‘A great deal,’ she said, ‘must depend on the executioner. I am not afraid of death, Doctor. Why should I be? My anxiety about my little girl is set at rest; I have nothing left to live for. But I don’t like pain. Would you mind telling the executioner to be careful? Or would it be better if I spoke29 to him myself?’ I said I thought it would come with a better grace from herself. She understood me directly; and we dropped the subject. Are you surprised at her coolness, after your experience of her?”
I confessed that I was surprised.
“Think a little,” the Doctor said. “The one sensitive place in that woman’s nature is the place occupied by her self-esteem.”
I objected to this that she had shown fondness for her child.
My friend disposed of the objection with his customary readiness.
“The maternal30 instinct,” he said. “A cat is fond of her kittens; a cow is fond of her calf31. No, sir, the one cause of that outbreak of passion which so shocked you—a genuine outbreak, beyond all doubt—is to be found in the vanity of a fine feminine creature, overpowered by a horror of looking hideous, even after her death. Do you know I rather like that woman?”
“Is it possible that you are in earnest?” I asked.
“I know as well as you do,” he answered, “that this is neither a time nor a place for jesting. The fact is, the Prisoner carries out an idea of mine. It is my positive conviction that the worst murders—I mean murders deliberately32 planned—are committed by persons absolutely deficient33 in that part of the moral organization which feels. The night before they are hanged they sleep. On their last morning they eat a breakfast. Incapable34 of realizing the horror of murder, they are incapable of realizing the horror of death. Do you remember the last murderer who was hanged here—a gentleman’s coachman who killed his wife? He had but two anxieties while he was waiting for execution. One was to get his allowance of beer doubled, and the other was to be hanged in his coachman’s livery. No! no! these wretches35 are all alike; they are human creatures born with the temperaments36 of tigers. Take my word for it, we need feel no anxiety about to-morrow. The Prisoner will face the crowd round the scaffold with composure; and the people will say, ‘She died game.’”
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1
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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feigning
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| 假装，伪装( feign的现在分词 )； 捏造（借口、理由等） | |
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conversion
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| n.转化，转换，转变 | |
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obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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7
misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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8
dispelled
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| v.驱散，赶跑( dispel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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repelled
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| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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12
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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repentance
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| n.懊悔 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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amends
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| n. 赔偿 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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waxworks
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| n.公共供水系统；蜡制品，蜡像( waxwork的名词复数 ) | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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bruise
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| n.青肿，挫伤；伤痕；vt.打青；挫伤 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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29
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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30
maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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32
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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deficient
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| adj.不足的，不充份的，有缺陷的 | |
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incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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35
wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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36
temperaments
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| 性格( temperament的名词复数 )； （人或动物的）气质； 易冲动； （性情）暴躁 | |
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