Was the stranger his own innermost thoughts? Part-2 the end
A man had come from the night, swiftly, silently, and walked with him, step for step.
He stopped dead, his hand wandered down to the past where the knife lay.
"What do you want?" he asked harshly.
The other made no reply; his face was in the shadow. Whar dothes he wore, what manner of men he was, Thomas and not say, only that, standing there, he was tal, gracefully proportioned, easy of movement
There was a silence, then.
"Come," said the man from the night, and the burglar accompanied him without question.
They walked in silence, and Thomas observed that the stranger moved in the direction he himself would have taken
"I shall give myself up-afterwards”, he said, speaking feverishly fast. “I will end all this-end it-end it!"
It did not strike him as curious that he should plunge ino most secret depths, revealing the innermost thoughts of his hear he accepted without wonder the conviction that the knew all. stranger
"She led me down from step to step, down, down!" sobbed Thomas, as they walked side by side through the narrow streets that led to the river. "It used to worry me at first, but she strangle my conscience-she laughed at my fears. She is a devil. I tell you."
Other men have said, "The woman tempted me. Said the stranger gently, “Yet a man has thought and will of his own
Thomas shook his head doggedly
"I had no will whereas she had," he said, "When I have killed her, I shall be a man again." He tapped his pocket: the knife was still there. "If we had children it might have made a difference but she hated
Children.
"If you were free of her, you might be a man," said the stranger. His voice was sweet and deep and sad.
"Yes, yes!"
The other turned on him cagerly.
"That is what I mean; she is in my way. IF I kill her, I can start all over again, can't I? I could go back and face the world and say, "I've killed the bad part of me, give me another chance - look!"
He fumbled in his pocket and brought forth the knife. The rain came pitter-patter on the paper wrapping, and his hand trembled in his excited eagerness to display the strong blade, with the silvery edge and the needle-like point.
"I could not kill her with my hands," he said, breathing quickly, "so I got this knife. I feel I've got to do it, though I hate killing things. I once killed a rabbit when I was a kiddie, and it haunted me for days."
"If you were free of her, you might be a man”, said the stranger again. "Yes, yes," the thief nodded, "that is what I say I could go
back-back to the old people", his voice broke. "They don't
know how far I've gone under."
They turned corner after corner, crossing main thorough fares, diving through alleys where coster's barrows were stacked, chained wheel to wheel, into mean streets, and across patches of waste ground.
Once, through a little passage they came in sight of the river, saw three barges moored side by side, rising and falling slowly with the tide. Out in mid-river a streamer lay, three lights glimmering feebly.
"I shall go into the house from the back," Thomas said, "There's nobody else in the house but an old woman-or there oughtn't to be. My wife sleeps in the front room."
"If you were free of her, you might be a man," said the stranger.
"Yes, yes, yes!" The convict was impatient. "I know that when I am free..." He laughed happily
"She dragged you down to the deeps", said the man of the night softly: "Every step you took for good, she clogged and hindered"
"That's right-hat is the truth", said the other.
"Yet you could never escape her; you were loyal and faithful and kind."
"God knows that is true", said the man, and wept.
"For better or worse, for richer or poorer”, he said, and it seemed to him that the stranger was saying these words at the same time.
At last they reached a street that was more dark, more wretched than any of its neighbours. The man stopped at a narrow passage which led to the back of the houses.
"I am going in now”, he said simply. "You wait for me here, and when I come back we will start our new life all over again. I shall kill her quickly."
The man of the night made no reply, and Thomas went through the passage, turned at right angles along a narrower strip of path between wooden fences, and so came to a rickety back gate.
He opened it and went in. He was in a dirty little yard, littered with the jettison of a poor household. There was a tumbledown fowl run, and as he walked stealthily to the house, a cock crew loudly.
The back room was empty, as he knew. He pushed up the window. It squeaked a little. He waited for the cock to crow again and mask the sound. Then he swung window-sill and entered the room. himself up to the window sill and entered the room.
The point of the knife cut through the thin clothing he
wore and he felt a sharp pain in his leg
He took the knife from his pocket and felt the edge-then he became conscious of the fact that there was somebody in the room.
He gripped the knife tightly and peered through the darkness.
"Who's there?" he whispered.
"It is I”, said a voice he knew, the voice of the man of the
night.
"How-how did you get in?"
He was amazed and bewildered.
"I came with you", said the voice. "Let us free ourselves of this woman—she dragged you down, she is the weed that chockes your soul.”
"Yes-yes", Thomas whispered, and reaching out, found the stranger's hand.
Hand in hand they came to the woman's room.
A cheap night-light was burning on the mantel-shelf. She lay with one bare arm thrown out of bed, her breast rose and fell regularly. (He had seen something else that had risen and fallen monotonously; what was it? yes, barges on the river).
She was handsome in a coarse way, and as she slept she smiled. Some movement of the man disturbed her, for she stirred and murmured a name-it was not the name of him who stood above her, a knife in his shaking hand.
"Do you love her?"
The stranger's voice was very soft. The husband shook his head.
"Once I thought so--now.." He shook his head again.
"Do you hate her?"
The thief was looking at the sleeping woman earnestly.
"I do not hate her", he said simply. "served her because it was my dury...".
"Come", said the stranger, and they left the room together. Thomas unfastened the street door and they passed again into the dreary night. "I do not love her: I do not hate her", he said again, half to himself. "I went to her because it was my duty I worked and
stole, and she betrayed me-so I thought I would kill her The knife was still in his hand.
In silence they traversed the way they came, until they reached a little passage that led to the river.
They turned into this.
At the end of the passage was a flight of stone steps, and they heard the "clug-clug" of water as it washed them. Thomas raised his hand and sent the knife spinning into
the river, and a voice hailed him from the foot of the steps.
"That you, Cole?"
His heart almost stopped beating. The voice was hard and metallic. He blinked as though awakened from a sleep.
"Is that you, Cole—who is it?"
Thomas saw a boat at the bottom of the steps. There were four men in it, and one was holding fast with a boat-hook to an iron ring let into the stone.
"Me", said the thief.
"It ain't Cole", said another voice disgustedly. "Cole won't turn up-he's drunk."
There was a whispering in the boat, then an authoritative voice demanded:
"Want a job, my lad?"
Thomas went down steps and bent forward. "Yes-I want a job," he said.
WAS THE 'STRANGER' HIS OWN INNERMOST THOUGHTS?
37
A querulous voice and something about missing the tide.
"Yes-- I can cook." He had been employed in this capacity in prison.
"Jump in-sign you on tomorrow-we are going to Valparaiso-steam-how does that suit you?"
Thomas was silent.
"I don't want to come back-here", he said.
"We'll get a better man for the return voyage-jump in." He got into the boat awkwardly, and the officer at the stern gave an order.
The boat pushed off and then the thief remembered the man of the night. He could see him plainer than ever he had seen him before. He was a radiant figure standing on the dark edge of the water, his hands outstretched in farewell.
Thomas saw the face, beautiful and benevolent: he saw the faint light that seemed to surround him.
"Behold..." muttered the man in the boat. "It's strange how the text...Good-bye, good-bye, sir..."
"Who are you talking to, mate?" asked the sailor who was
rowing "The-the man who was with me”, said Thomas.
"There was ho man with you”, said the sailor scornfully. "You were by yourself."
The end ..