第38章

第38章sohelayaverylongwhile.nowandthenheseemedtowakeup,andatsuchmomentshenoticedthatitwasfarintothenight,butitdidnotoccurtohimtogetup.atlasthenoticedthatitwasbeginningtogetlight.hewaslyingonhisback,stilldazedfromhisrecentoblivion.fearful,despairingcriesroseshrillyfromthestreet,soundswhichheheardeverynight,indeed,underhiswindowaftertwoo’clock.theywokehimupnow.

“ah!thedrunkenmenarecomingoutofthetaverns,”hethought,“it’spasttwoo’clock,”andatonceheleapedup,asthoughsomeonehadpulledhimfromthesofa.

“what!pasttwoo’clock!”

hesatdownonthesofa—andinstantlyrecollectedeverything!allatonce,inoneflash,herecollectedeverything.

forthefirstmomenthethoughthewasgoingmad.adreadfulchillcameoverhim;butthechillwasfromthefeverthathadbegunlongbeforeinhissleep.nowhewassuddenlytakenwithviolentshivering,sothathisteethchatteredandallhislimbswereshaking.heopenedthedoorandbeganlistening—everythinginthehousewasasleep.withamazementhegazedathimselfandeverythingintheroomaroundhim,wonderinghowhecouldhavecomeinthenightbeforewithoutfasteningthedoor,andhaveflunghimselfonthesofawithoutundressing,withouteventakinghishatoff.ithadfallenoffandwaslyingonthefloornearhispillow.

“ifanyonehadcomein,whatwouldhehavethought?thati’mdrunkbut…”

herushedtothewindow.therewaslightenough,andhebeganhurriedlylookinghimselfalloverfromheadtofoot,allhisclothes;weretherenotraces?buttherewasnodoingitlikethat;shiveringwithcold,hebegantakingoffeverythingandlookingoveragain.heturnedeverythingovertothelastthreadsandrags,andmistrustinghimself,wentthroughhissearchthreetimes.

butthereseemedtobenothing,notrace,exceptinoneplace,wheresomethickdropsofcongealedbloodwereclingingtothefrayededgeofhistrousers.hepickedupabigclaspknifeandcutoffthefrayedthreads.thereseemedtobenothingmore.

suddenlyherememberedthatthepurseandthethingshehadtakenoutoftheoldwoman’sboxwerestillinhispockets!hehadnotthoughttillthenoftakingthemoutandhidingthem!hehadnoteventhoughtofthemwhilehewasexamininghisclothes!whatnext?instantlyherushedtotakethemoutandflingthemonthetable.whenhehadpulledouteverything,andturnedthepocketinsideouttobesuretherewasnothingleft,hecarriedthewholeheaptothecorner.thepaperhadcomeoffthebottomofthewallandhungthereintatters.hebeganstuffingallthethingsintotheholeunderthepaper:“they’rein!alloutofsight,andthepursetoo!”hethoughtgleefully,gettingupandgazingblanklyattheholewhichbulgedoutmorethanever.suddenlyheshudderedalloverwithhorror;“mygod!”hewhisperedindespair:“what’sthematterwithme?isthathidden?isthatthewaytohidethings?”

hehadnotreckonedonhavingtrinketstohide.hehadonlythoughtofmoney,andsohadnotpreparedahiding-place.

“butnow,now,whatamigladof?”hethought,“isthathidingthings?myreason’sdesertingme—simply!”

hesatdownonthesofainexhaustionandwasatonceshakenbyanotherunbearablefitofshivering.mechanicallyhedrewfromachairbesidehimhisoldstudent’swintercoat,whichwasstillwarmthoughalmostinrags,coveredhimselfupwithitandoncemoresankintodrowsinessanddelirium.helostconsciousness.

notmorethanfiveminuteshadpassedwhenhejumpedupasecondtime,andatoncepouncedinafrenzyonhisclothesagain.

“howcouldigotosleepagainwithnothingdone?yes,yes;ihavenottakentheloopoffthearmhole!iforgotit,forgotathinglikethat!suchapieceofevidence!”

hepulledoffthenoose,hurriedlycutittopiecesandthrewthebitsamonghislinenunderthepillow.

“piecesoftornlinencouldn’trousesuspicion,whateverhappened;ithinknot,ithinknot,anyway!”herepeated,standinginthemiddleoftheroom,andwithpainfulconcentrationhefelltogazingabouthimagain,atthefloorandeverywhere,tryingtomakesurehehadnotforgottenanything.theconvictionthatallhisfaculties,evenmemory,andthesimplestpowerofreflectionwerefailinghim,begantobeaninsufferabletorture.

“surelyitisn’tbeginningalready!surelyitisn’tmypunishmentcominguponme?itis!”

thefrayedragshehadcutoffhistrouserswereactuallylyingonthefloorinthemiddleoftheroom,whereanyonecominginwouldseethem!

“whatisthematterwithme!”hecriedagain,likeonedistraught.

thenastrangeideaenteredhishead;that,perhaps,allhisclotheswerecoveredwithblood,that,perhaps,therewereagreatmanystains,butthathedidnotseethem,didnotnoticethembecausehisperceptionswerefailing,weregoingtopieces…hisreasonwasclouded.…suddenlyherememberedthattherehadbeenbloodonthepursetoo.“ah!thentheremustbebloodonthepockettoo,foriputthewetpurseinmypocket!”

inaflashhehadturnedthepocketinsideoutand,yes!—thereweretraces,stainsontheliningofthepocket!

“somyreasonhasnotquitedesertedme,soistillhavesomesenseandmemory,sinceiguesseditofmyself,”hethoughttriumphantly,withadeepsighofrelief;“it’ssimplytheweaknessoffever,amoment’sdelirium,”andhetorethewholeliningoutoftheleftpocketofhistrousers.atthatinstantthesunlightfellonhisleftboot;onthesockwhichpokedoutfromtheboot,hefanciedthereweretraces!heflungoffhisboots;“tracesindeed!thetipofthesockwassoakedwithblood;”hemusthaveunwarilysteppedintothatpool.…“butwhatamitodowiththisnow?whereamitoputthesockandragsandpocket?”

hegatheredthemallupinhishandsandstoodinthemiddleoftheroom.