Nello’seyesleftherfaceandwanderedtothedistance，where，intheredandgoldoftheFlemishnight，thecathedralspirerose。TherewasasmileonhisfacesosweetandyetsosadthatlittleAloiswasawedbyit。"Iwillbegreatstill，"hesaidunderhisbreath——"greatstill，ordie，Alois。"
　　"Youdonotloveme，"saidthelittlespoiledchild，pushinghimaway;
　　buttheboyshookhisheadandsmiled，andwentonhiswaythroughthetallyellowcorn，seeingasinavisionsomedayinafairfuturewhenheshouldcomeintothatoldfamiliarlandandaskAloisofherpeople，andbenotrefusedordenied，butreceivedinhonour;whilethevillagefolkshouldthrongtolookuponhimandsayinoneanother’sears，"Dostseehim？Heisakingamongmen;forheisagreatartistandtheworldspeakshisname;andyethewasonlyourpoorlittleNello，whowasabeggar，asonemaysay，andonlygothisbreadbythehelpofhisdog。"Andhethoughthowhewouldfoldhisgrandsireinfursandpurples，andportrayhimastheoldmanisportrayedintheFamilyinthechapelofSt。Jacques;andofhowhewouldhangthethroatofPatraschewithacollarofgold，andplacehimonhisrighthand，andsaytothepeople，"Thiswasoncemyonlyfriend;"andofhowhewouldbuildhimselfagreatwhitemarblepalace，andmaketohimselfluxuriantgardensofpleasure，ontheslopelookingoutwardtowherethecathedralspirerose，andnotdwellinithimself，butsummontoit，astoahome，allmenyoungandpoorandfriendless，butofthewilltodomightythings;andofhowhewouldsaytothemalways，iftheysoughttoblesshisname，"Nay，donotthankme——thankRubens。Withouthim，whatshouldIhavebeen？"Andthesedreams——beautiful，impossible，innocent，freeofallselfishness，fullofheroicalworship——weresocloselyabouthimashewentthathewashappy——happyevenonthissadanniversaryofAlois’ssaint’sday，whenheandPatraschewenthomebythemselvestothelittledarkhutandthemealofblackbread，whileinthemill-houseallthechildrenofthevillagesangandlaughed，andatethebigroundcakesofDijonandthealmondgingerbreadofBrabant，anddancedinthegreatbarntothelightofthestarsandthemusicoffluteandfiddle。
　　"Nevermind，Patrasche，"hesaid，withhisarmsroundthedog’sneck，astheybothsatinthedoorofthehut，wherethesoundsofthemirthatthemillcamedowntothemonthenightair;"nevermind。Itshallallbechangedby-and-by。"
　　Hebelievedinthefuture;Patrasche，ofmoreexperienceandofmorephilosophy，thoughtthatthelossofthemillsupperinthepresentwasillcompensatedbydreamsofmilkandhoneyinsomevaguehereafter。AndPatraschegrowledwheneverhepassedbyBaasCogez。
　　"ThisisAlois’sname-day，isitnot？"saidtheoldmanDaasthatnight，fromthecornerwherehewasstretcheduponhisbedofsacking。
　　Theboygaveagestureofassent;hewishedthattheoldman’smemoryhaderredalittle，insteadofkeepingsuchsureaccount。
　　"Andwhynotthere？"hisgrandfatherpursued。"Thouhastnevermissedayearbefore，Nello。"
　　"Thouarttoosicktoleave，"murmuredthelad，bendinghishandsomeheadoverthebed。
　　"Tut！tut！MotherNulettewouldhavecomeandsatwithme，asshedoesscoresoftimes。Whatisthecause，Nello？"theoldmanpersisted。
　　"Thousurelyhastnothadillwordswiththelittleone？"
　　"Nay，grandfather，never，"saidtheboyquickly，withahotcolourinhisbentface。"Simplyandtruly，BaasCogezdidnothavemeaskedthisyear。Hehastakensomewhimagainstme。"
　　"Butthouhastdonenothingwrong？"
　　"ThatIknow——nothing。ItooktheportraitofAloisonapieceofpine;thatisall。"
　　"Ah！"Theoldmanwassilent;thetruthsuggesteditselftohimwiththeboy’sinnocentanswer。Hewastiedtoabedofdriedleavesinthecornerofawattlehut，buthehadnotwhollyforgottenwhatthewaysoftheworldwerelike。
　　HedrewNello’sfairheadfondlytohisbreastwithatenderergesture。"Thouartverypoor，mychild，"hesaid，withaquiverthemoreinhisaged，tremblingvoice;"sopoor！Itisveryhardforthee。"
　　"Nay，Iamrich，"murmuredNello;andinhisinnocencehethoughtso;
　　richwiththeimperishablepowersthataremightierthanthemightofkings。Andhewentandstoodbythedoorofthehutinthequietautumnnight，andwatchedthestarstroopbyandthetallpoplarsbendandshiverinthewind。Allthecasementsofthemill-housewerelighted，andeverynowandthenthenotesoftheflutecametohim。
　　Thetearsfelldownhischeeks，forhewasbutachild;yethesmiled，forhesaidtohimself，"Inthefuture！"Hestayedthereuntilallwasquitestillanddark;thenheandPatraschewentwithinandslepttogether，longanddeeply，sidebyside。
　　NowhehadasecretwhichonlyPatrascheknew。Therewasalittleouthousetothehutwhichnooneenteredbuthimself——adrearyplace，butwithabundantclearlightfromthenorth。Herehehadfashionedhimselfrudelyaneaselinroughlumber，andhere，onagreatgrayseaofstretchedpaper，hehadgivenshapetooneoftheinnumerablefancieswhichpossessedhisbrain。Noonehadevertaughthimanything;colourshehadnomeanstobuy;hehadgonewithoutbreadmanyatimetoprocureeventhefewrudevehiclesthathehadhere;
　　anditwasonlyinblackorwhitethathecouldfashionthethingshesaw。Thisgreatfigurewhichhehaddrawnhereinchalkwasonlyanoldmansittingonafallentree——onlythat。HehadseenoldMichel，thewoodman，sittingsoateveningmanyatime。Hehadneverhadasoultotellhimofoutlineorperspective，ofanatomyorofshadow;
　　andyethehadgivenalltheweary，worn-outage，allthesad，quietpatience，alltherugged，care-wornpathosofhisoriginal，andgiventhemsothattheold，lonelyfigurewasapoem，sittingtheremeditativeandalone，onthedeadtree，withthedarknessofthedescendingnightbehindhim。
　　Itwasrude，ofcourse，inaway，andhadmanyfaults，nodoubt;andyetitwasreal，trueinnature，trueinart，andverymournful，andinamannerbeautiful。
　　Patraschehadlainquietcountlesshourswatchingitsgradualcreationafterthelaborofeachdaywasdone，andheknewthatNellohadahope——vainandwildperhaps，butstronglycherished——ofsendingthisgreatdrawingtocompeteforaprizeoftwohundredfrancsayearwhichitwasannouncedinAntwerpwouldbeopentoeveryladoftalent，scholarorpeasant，undereighteen，whowouldattempttowinitwithsomeunaidedworkofchalkorpencil。ThreeoftheforemostartistsinthetownofRubensweretobethejudgesandelectthevictoraccordingtohismerits。
　　AllthespringandsummerandautumnNellohadbeenatworkuponthistreasure，whichiftriumphant，wouldbuildhimhisfirststeptowardindependenceandthemysteriesoftheartwhichheblindly，ignorantly，andyetpassionatelyadored。
　　Hesaidnothingtoanyone;hisgrandfatherwouldnothaveunderstood，andlittleAloiswaslosttohim。OnlytoPatraschehetoldall，andwhispered，"Rubenswouldgiveitme，Ithink，ifheknew。"
　　Patraschethoughtsotoo，forheknewthatRubenshadloveddogsorhehadneverpaintedthemwithsuchexquisitefidelity;andmenwholoveddogswere，asPatrascheknew，alwayspitiful。
　　ThedrawingsweretogoinonthefirstdayofDecember，andthedecisionbegivenonthetwenty-fourth，sothathewhoshouldwinmightrejoicewithallhispeopleattheChristmasseason。
　　Inthetwilightofabitterwintryday，andwithabeatingheart，nowquickwithhope，nowfaintwithfear，Nelloplacedthegreatpictureonhislittlegreenmilk-cart，andtookit，withthehelpofPatrasche，intothetown，andthereleftit，asenjoined，atthedoorsofapublicbuilding。
　　"Perhapsitisworthnothingatall。HowcanItell？"hethought，withtheheart-sicknessofagreattimidity。Nowthathehadleftitthere，itseemedtohimsohazardous，sovain，sofoolish，todreamthathe，alittleladwithbarefeetwhobarelyknewhisletters，coulddoanythingatwhichgreatpainters，realartists，couldeverdeigntolook。Yethetookheartashewentbythecathedral;thelordlyformofRubensseemedtorisefromthefogandthedarkness，andtoloominitsmagnificencebeforehim，whilethelips，withtheirkindlysmile，seemedtohimtomurmur，"Nay，havecourage！ItwasnotbyaweakheartandbyfaintfearsthatIwrotemynameforalltimeuponAntwerp。"
　　Nelloranhomethroughthecoldnight，comforted。Hehaddonehisbest;therestmustbeasGodwilled，hethought，inthatinnocent，unquestioningfaithwhichhadbeentaughthiminthelittlegraychapelamongthewillowsandthepoplar-trees。
　　Thewinterwasverysharpalready。Thatnight，aftertheyreachedthehut，snowfell，andfellforverymanydaysafterthat;sothatthepathsandthedivisionsinthefieldswereallobliterated，andallthesmallerstreamswerefrozenover，andthecoldwasintenseupontheplains。Then，indeed，itbecamehardworktogoroundforthemilkwhiletheworldwasalldark，andcarryitthroughthedarknesstothesilenttown。Hardwork，especiallyforPatrasche，forthepassageoftheyearsthatwereonlybringingNelloastrongeryouthwerebringinghimoldage，andhisjointswerestiffandhisbonesachedoften。Buthewouldnevergiveuphisshareofthelabour。Nellowouldfainhavesparedhimanddrawnthecarthimself，butPatraschewouldnotallowit。Allhewouldeverpermitoracceptwasthehelpofathrustfrombehindtothetruckasitlumberedalongthroughtheice-ruts。
　　Patraschehadlivedinharness，andhewasproudofit。Hesufferedagreatdealsometimesfromfrostandtheterribleroadsandtherheumaticpainsofhislimbs;butheonlydrewhisbreathhardandbenthisstoutneck，andtrodonwardwithsteadypatience。
　　"Resttheeathome，Patrasche;itistimethoudidstrest，andIcanquitewellpushinthecartbymyself，"urgedNellomanyamorning;
　　butPatrasche，whounderstoodhimaright，wouldnomorehaveconsentedtostayathomethanaveteransoldiertoshirkwhenthechargewassounding;andeverydayhewouldriseandplacehimselfinhisshafts，andplodalongoverthesnowthroughthefieldsthathisfourroundfeethadlefttheirprintuponsomany，manyyears。
　　"Onemustneverresttillonedies，"thoughtPatrasche;andsometimesitseemedtohimthatthattimeofrestforhimwasnotveryfaroff。
　　Hissightwaslessclearthanithadbeen，anditgavehimpaintoriseafterthenight’ssleep，thoughhewouldneverlieamomentinhisstrawwhenoncethebellofthechapeltollingfivelethimknowthatthedaybreakoflaborhadbegun。
　　"MypoorPatrasche，weshallsoonliequiettogether，youandI，"saidoldJehanDaas，stretchingouttostroketheheadofPatraschewiththeoldwitheredhandwhichhadalwayssharedwithhimitsonepoorcrustofbread;andtheheartsoftheoldmanandtheolddogachedtogetherwithonethought：Whentheyweregonewhowouldcarefortheirdarling？
　　Oneafternoon，astheycamebackfromAntwerpoverthesnow，whichhadbecomehardandsmoothasmarbleoveralltheFlemishplains，theyfounddroppedintheroadaprettylittlepuppet，atambourineplayer，allscarletandgold，aboutsixincheshigh，and，unlikegreaterpersonageswhenFortuneletsthemdrop，quiteunspoiledandunhurtbyitsfall。Itwasaprettytoy。Nellotriedtofinditsowner，and，failing，thoughtthatitwasjustthethingtopleaseAlois。
　　Itwasquitenightwhenhepassedthemill-house;heknewthelittlewindowofherroom;itcouldbenoharm，hethought，ifhegaveherhislittlepieceoftreasure-trove——theyhadbeenplay-fellowssolong。Therewasashedwithaslopingroofbeneathhercasement;heclimbeditandtappedsoftlyatthelattice;therewasalittlelightwithin。Thechildopeneditandlookedouthalffrightened。
　　Nelloputthetambourineplayerintoherhands。"HereisadollI
　　foundinthesnow，Alois。Takeit，"hewhispered;"takeit，andGodblessthee，dear！"
　　Hesliddownfromtheshedroofbeforeshehadtimetothankhim，andranoffthroughthedarkness。
　　Thatnighttherewasafireatthemill。Out-buildingsandmuchcornweredestroyed，althoughthemillitselfandthedwelling-housewereunharmed。Allthevillagewasoutinterror，andenginescametearingthroughthesnowfromAntwerp。Themillerwasinsured，andwouldlosenothing;nevertheless，hewasinfuriouswrath，anddeclaredaloudthatthefirewasduetonoaccident，buttosomefoulintent。
　　Nello，awakenedfromhissleep，rantohelpwiththerest。BaasCogezthrusthimangrilyaside。"Thouwertloiteringhereafterdark，"hesaidroughly。"Ibelieve，onmysoul，thatthoudostknowmoreofthefirethananyone。"
　　Nelloheardhiminsilence，stupefied，notsupposingthatanyonecouldsaysuchthingsexceptinjest，andnotcomprehendinghowanyonecouldpassajestatsuchatime。
　　Nevertheless，themillersaidthebrutalthingopenlytomanyofhisneighboursinthedaythatfollowed;andthoughnoseriouschargewaseverpreferredagainstthelad，itgotbruitedaboutthatNellohadbeenseeninthemill-yardafterdarkonsomeunspokenerrand，andthatheboreBaasCogezagrudgeforforbiddinghisintercoursewithlittleAlois;andsothehamlet，whichfollowedthesayingsofitsrichestlandownerservilely，andwhosefamiliesallhopedtosecuretherichesofAloisinsomefuturetimefortheirsons，tookthehinttogivegravelooksandcoldwordstooldJehanDaas’sgrandson。Noonesaidanythingtohimopenly，butallthevillageagreedtogethertohumourthemiller’sprejudice，andatthecottagesandfarmswhereNelloandPatraschecalledeverymorningforthemilkforAntwerp，downcastglancesandbriefphrasesreplacedtothemthebroadsmilesandcheerfulgreetingstowhichtheyhadbeenalwaysused。Noonereallycreditedthemiller’sabsurdsuspicions，northeoutrageousaccusationsbornofthem;butthepeoplewereallverypoorandveryignorant，andtheonerichmanoftheplacehadpronouncedagainsthim。Nello，inhisinnocenceandhisfriendlessness，hadnostrengthtostemthepopulartide。
　　"Thouartverycrueltothelad，"themiller’swifedaredtosay，weeping，toherlord。"Sure，heisaninnocentladandafaithful，andwouldneverdreamofanysuchwickedness，howeversorehisheartmightbe。"
　　ButBaasCogezbeinganobstinateman，havingoncesaidathing，heldtoitdoggedly，thoughinhisinnermostsoulheknewwelltheinjusticethathewascommitting。
　　Meanwhile，Nelloenduredtheinjurydoneagainsthimwithacertainproudpatiencethatdisdainedtocomplain;heonlygavewayalittlewhenhewasquitealonewitholdPatrasche。Besides，hethought，"Ifitshouldwin！Theywillbesorrythen，perhaps。"
　　Still，toaboynotquitesixteen，andwhohaddweltinonelittleworldallhisshortlife，andinhischildhoodhadbeencaressedandapplaudedonallsides，itwasahardtrialtohavethewholeofthatlittleworldturnagainsthimfornaught。Especiallyhardinthatbleak，snow-bound，famine-strickenwinter-time，whentheonlylightandwarmththerecouldbefoundabodebesidethevillagehearthsandinthekindlygreetingsofneighbours。Inthewinter-timealldrewnearertoeachother，alltoall，excepttoNelloandPatrasche，withwhomnonenowwouldhaveanythingtodo，andwhowerelefttofareastheymightwiththeoldparalyzed，bedriddenmaninthelittlecabin，whosefirewasoftenlow，andwhoseboardwasoftenwithoutbread;fortherewasabuyerfromAntwerpwhohadtakentodrivehismuleinofadayforthemilkofthevariousdairies，andtherewereonlythreeorfourofthepeoplewhohadrefusedhistermsofpurchaseandremainedfaithfultothelittlegreencart。SothattheburdenwhichPatraschedrewhadbecomeverylight，andthecentimepiecesinNello’spouchhadbecome，alas！verysmalllikewise。
　　Thedogwouldstop，asusual，atallthefamiliargateswhichwerenowclosedtohim，andlookupatthemwithwistful，muteappeal;anditcosttheneighboursapangtoshuttheirdoorsandtheirhearts，andletPatraschedrawhiscartonagain，empty。Nevertheless，theydidit，fortheydesiredtopleaseBaasCogez。
　　Noelwascloseathand。
　　Theweatherwasverywildandcold;thesnowwassixfeetdeep，andtheicewasfirmenoughtobearoxenandmenuponiteverywhere。Atthisseasonthelittlevillagewasalwaysgayandcheerful。Atthepoorestdwellingtherewerepossetsandcakes，jokinganddancing，sugaredsaintsandgildedJesus。ThemerryFlemishbellsjingledeverywhereonthehorses;everywherewithindoorssomewell-filledsoup-potsangandsmokedoverthestove;andeverywhereoverthesnowwithoutlaughingmaidenspatteredinbrightkerchiefsandstoutkirtles，goingtoandfromthemass。Onlyinthelittlehutitwasverydarkandverycold。
　　NelloandPatraschewereleftutterlyalone，foronenightintheweekbeforetheChristmasDay，deathenteredthere，andtookawayfromlifeforeveroldJehanDaas，whohadneverknownlifeaughtsaveitspovertyanditspains。Hehadlongbeenhalfdead，incapableofanymovementexceptafeeblegesture，andpowerlessforanythingbeyondagentleword;andyethislossfellonthembothwithagreathorrorinit;theymournedhimpassionately。Hehadpassedawayfromtheminhissleep，andwheninthegraydawntheylearnedtheirbereavement，unutterablesolitudeanddesolationseemedtoclosearoundthem。Hehadlongbeenonlyapoor，feeble，paralyzedoldman，whocouldnotraiseahandintheirdefence;buthehadlovedthemwell，hissmilehadalwayswelcomedtheirreturn。Theymournedforhimunceasingly，refusingtobecomforted，asinthewhitewinterdaytheyfollowedthedealshellthatheldhisbodytothenamelessgravebythelittlegraychurch。Theywerehisonlymourners，thesetwowhomhehadleftfriendlessuponearth——theyoungboyandtheolddog。
　　"Surely，hewillrelentnowandletthepoorladcomehither？"thoughtthemiller’swife，glancingatherhusbandwherehesmokedbythehearth。
　　BaasCogezknewherthought，buthehardenedhisheart，andwouldnotunbarhisdoorasthelittle，humblefuneralwentby。"Theboyisabeggar，"hesaidtohimself;"heshallnotbeaboutAlois。"
　　Thewomandarednotsayanythingaloud，butwhenthegravewasclosedandthemournershadgone，sheputawreathofimmortellesintoAlois’shandsandbadehergoandlayitreverentlyonthedark，unmarkedmoundwherethesnowwasdisplaced。
　　NelloandPatraschewenthomewithbrokenhearts。Butevenofthatpoor，melancholy，cheerlesshometheyweredeniedtheconsolation。
　　Therewasamonth’srentoverduefortheirlittlehome，andwhenNellohadpaidthelastsadservicetothedeadhehadnotacoinleft。Hewentandbeggedgraceoftheownerofthehut，acobblerwhowenteverySundaynighttodrinkhispintofwineandsmokewithBaasCogez。Thecobblerwouldgrantnomercy。Hewasaharsh，miserlyman，andlovedmoney。Heclaimedindefaultofhisrenteverystickandstone，everypotandpan，inthehut，andbadeNelloandPatraschebeoutofitonthemorrow。
　　Now，thecabinwaslowlyenough，andinsomesensemiserableenough，andyettheirheartsclovetoitwithagreataffection。Theyhadbeensohappythere，andinthesummer，withitsclamberingvineanditsfloweringbeans，itwassoprettyandbrightinthemidstofthesun-
　　lightedfields！Theirlifeinithadbeenfulloflaborandprivation，andyettheyhadbeensowellcontent，sogayofheart，runningtogethertomeettheoldman’snever-failingsmileofwelcome！
　　Allnightlongtheboyandthedogsatbythefirelesshearthinthedarkness，drawnclosetogetherforwarmthandsorrow。Theirbodieswereinsensibletothecold，buttheirheartsseemedfrozeninthem。
　　Whenthemorningbrokeoverthewhite，chillearthitwasthemorningofChristmasEve。Withashudder，Nelloclaspedclosetohimhisonlyfriend，whilehistearsfellhotandfastonthedog’sfrankforehead。
　　"Letusgo，Patrasche——dear，dearPatrasche，"hemurmured。"Wewillnotwaittobekickedout;letusgo。"
　　Patraschehadnowillbuthis，andtheywentsadly，sidebyside，outfromthelittleplacewhichwassodeartothemboth，andinwhicheveryhumble，homelythingwastothempreciousandbeloved。Patraschedroopedhisheadwearilyashepassedbyhisowngreencart;itwasnolongerhis，——ithadtogowiththeresttopaytherent，——andhisbrassharnesslayidleandglitteringonthesnow。Thedogcouldhavelaindownbesideitanddiedforveryheart-sicknessashewent，butwhiletheladlivedandneededhimPatraschewouldnotyieldandgiveway。
　　TheytooktheoldaccustomedroadintoAntwerp。Thedayhadyetscarcemorethandawned;mostoftheshutterswerestillclosed，butsomeofthevillagerswereabout。Theytooknonoticewhilethedogandtheboypassedbythem。AtonedoorNellopausedandlookedwistfullywithin;hisgrandfatherhaddonemanyakindlyturninneighbour’sservicetothepeoplewhodweltthere。
　　"WouldyougivePatrascheacrust？"hesaid，timidly。"Heisold，andhehashadnothingsincelastforenoon。"
　　Thewomanshutthedoorhastily，murmuringsomevaguesayingaboutwheatandryebeingverydearthatseason。Theboyandthedogwentonagainwearily;theyaskednomore。
　　ByslowandpainfulwaystheyreachedAntwerpasthechimestolledten。
　　"IfIhadanythingaboutmeIcouldselltogethimbread！"thoughtNello;buthehadnothingexceptthewispoflinenandsergethatcoveredhim，andhispairofwoodenshoes。
　　Patrascheunderstood，andnestledhisnoseintothelad’shandasthoughtoprayhimnottobedisquietedforanywoeorwantofhis。
　　Thewinnerofthedrawingprizewastobeproclaimedatnoon，andtothepublicbuildingwherehehadlefthistreasureNellomadehisway。
　　Onthestepsandintheentrance-halltherewasacrowdofyouths，——
　　someofhisage，someolder，allwithparentsorrelativesorfriends。
　　HisheartwassickwithfearashewentamongthemholdingPatrascheclosetohim。Thegreatbellsofthecityclashedoutthehourofnoonwithbrazenclamour。Thedoorsoftheinnerhallwereopened;theeager，pantingthrongrushedin。Itwasknownthattheselectedpicturewouldberaisedabovetherestuponawoodendais。
　　AmistobscuredNello’ssight，hisheadswam，hislimbsalmostfailedhim。Whenhisvisionclearedhesawthedrawingraisedonhigh;itwasnothisown！Aslow，sonorousvoicewasproclaimingaloudthatvictoryhadbeenadjudgedtoStephenKiesslinger，bornintheburgofAntwerp，sonofawharfingerinthattown。
　　WhenNellorecoveredhisconsciousnesshewaslyingonthestoneswithout，andPatraschewastryingwitheveryartheknewtocallhimbacktolife。InthedistanceathrongoftheyouthsofAntwerpwereshoutingaroundtheirsuccessfulcomrade，andescortinghimwithacclamationstohishomeuponthequay。
　　Theboystaggeredtohisfeetanddrewthedogintohisembrace。"Itisallover，dearPatrasche，"hemurmured——"allover！"
　　Heralliedhimselfasbesthecould，forhewasweakfromfasting，andretracedhisstepstothevillage。Patraschepacedbyhissidewithhisheaddroopingandhisoldlimbsfeeblefromhungerandsorrow。
　　Thesnowwasfallingfast;akeenhurricaneblewfromthenorth;itwasbitterasdeathontheplains。Ittookthemlongtotraversethefamiliarpath，andthebellsweresoundingfouroftheclockastheyapproachedthehamlet。SuddenlyPatraschepaused，arrestedbyascentinthesnow，scratched，whined，anddrewoutwithhisteethasmallcaseofbrownleather。HeheldituptoNellointhedarkness。WheretheyweretherestoodalittleCalvary，andalampburneddullyunderthecross;theboymechanicallyturnedthecasetothelight;onitwasthenameofBaasCogez，andwithinitwerenotesfortwothousandfrancs。
　　Thesightrousedtheladalittlefromhisstupor。Hethrustitinhisshirt，andstrokedPatrascheanddrewhimonward。Thedoglookedupwistfullyinhisface。
　　Nellomadestraightforthemill-house，andwenttothehousedoorandstruckonitspanels。Themiller’swifeopeneditweeping，withlittleAloisclingingclosetoherskirts。"Isitthee，thoupoorlad？"shesaidkindly，throughhertears。"GettheegoneeretheBaasseethee。
　　Weareinsoretroubleto-night。Heisoutseekingforapowerofmoneythathehasletfallridinghomeward，andinthissnowheneverwillfindit;andGodknowsitwillgonightoruinus。ItisHeaven’sownjudgmentforthethingswehavedonetothee。"
　　Nelloputthenote-caseinherhandandcalledPatraschewithinthehouse。"Patraschefoundthemoneyto-night，"hesaidquickly。"TellBaasCogezso;Ithinkhewillnotdenythedogshelterandfoodinhisoldage。Keephimfrompursuingme，andIprayofyoutobegoodtohim。"
　　EreeitherwomanordogknewwhathemeanthehadstoopedandkissedPatrasche，thenclosedthedoorhurriedly，anddisappearedinthegloomofthefast-fallingnight。
　　Thewomanandthechildstoodspeechlesswithjoyandfear;Patraschevainlyspentthefuryofhisanguishagainsttheiron-boundoakofthebarredhousedoor。Theydidnotdareunbarthedoorandlethimforth;
　　theytriedalltheycouldtosolacehim。Theybroughthimsweetcakesandjuicymeats;theytemptedhimwiththebesttheyhad;theytriedtolurehimtoabidebythewarmthofthehearth;butitwasofnoavail。Patrascherefusedtobecomfortedortostirfromthebarredportal。
　　Itwassixo’clockwhenfromanoppositeentrancethemilleratlastcame，jadedandbroken，intohiswife’spresence。"Itislostforever，"hesaid，withanashencheekandaquiverinhissternvoice。"Wehavelookedwithlanternseverywhere;itisgone——thelittlemaiden’sportionandall！"
　　Hiswifeputthemoneyintohishand，andtoldhimhowithadcometoher。Thestrongmansanktremblingintoaseatandcoveredhisface，ashamedandalmostafraid。"Ihavebeencrueltothelad，"hemutteredatlength;"Ideservednottohavegoodathishands。"
　　LittleAlois，takingcourage，creptclosetoherfatherandnestledagainsthimherfaircurlyhead。"Nellomaycomehereagain，father？"
　　shewhispered。"Hemaycometo-morrowasheusedtodo？"
　　Themillerpressedherinhisarms;hishard，sunburntfacewasverypaleandhismouthtrembled。"Surely，surely，"heansweredhischild。
　　"HeshallbidehereonChristmasDay，andanyotherdayhewill。Godhelpingme，Iwillmakeamendstotheboy——Iwillmakeamends。"
　　LittleAloiskissedhimingratitudeandjoy;thenslidfromhiskneesandrantowherethedogkeptwatchbythedoor。"Andto-nightImayfeastPatrasche？"shecriedinachild’sthoughtlessglee。
　　Herfatherbenthisheadgravely："Ay，ay！letthedoghavethebest;"
　　forthesternoldmanwasmovedandshakentohisheart’sdepths。
　　ItwasChristmaseve，andthemill-housewasfilledwithoaklogsandsquaresofturf，withcreamandhoney，withmeatandbread，andtherafterswerehungwithwreathsofevergreen，andtheCalvaryandthecuckooclocklookedoutfromamassofholly。Therewerelittlepaperlanterns，too，forAlois，andtoysofvariousfashionsandsweetmeatsinbright-picturedpapers。Therewerelightandwarmthandabundanceeverywhere，andthechildwouldfainhavemadethedogaguesthonouredandfeasted。
　　ButPatraschewouldneitherlieinthewarmthnorshareinthecheer。
　　Famishedhewasandverycold，butwithoutNellohewouldpartakeneitherofcomfortnorfood。Againstalltemptationhewasproof，andcloseagainstthedoorheleanedalways，watchingonlyforameansofescape。
　　"Hewantsthelad，"saidBaasCogez。"Gooddog！gooddog！Iwillgoovertotheladthefirstthingatday-dawn。"FornoonebutPatrascheknewthatNellohadleftthehut，andnoonebutPatraschedivinedthatNellohadgonetofacestarvationandmiseryalone。
　　Themillkitchenwasverywarm;greatlogscrackledandflamedonthehearth;neighbourscameinforaglassofwineandasliceofthefatgoosebakingforsupper。Alois，gleefulandsureofherplaymatebackonthemorrow，boundedandsangandtossedbackheryellowhair。BaasCogez，inthefulnessofhisheart，smiledonherthroughmoistenedeyes，andspokeofthewayinwhichhewouldbefriendherfavouritecompanion;thehouse-mothersatwithcalm，contentedfaceatthespinning-wheel;thecuckoointheclockchirpedmirthfulhours。AmidstitallPatraschewasbiddenwithathousandwordsofwelcometotarrythereacherishedguest。ButneitherpeacenorplentycouldallurehimwhereNellowasnot。
　　Whenthesuppersmokedontheboard，andthevoiceswereloudestandgladdest，andtheChrist-childbroughtchoicestgiftstoAlois，Patrasche，watchingalwaysanoccasion，glidedoutwhenthedoorwasunlatchedbyacarelessnew-comer，and，asswiftlyashisweakandtiredlimbswouldbearhimspedoverthesnowinthebitter，blacknight。Hehadonlyonethought——tofollowNello。Ahumanfriendmighthavepausedforthepleasantmeal，thecheerywarmth，thecoseyslumber;butthatwasnotthefriendshipofPatrasche。Herememberedabygonetime，whenanoldmanandalittlechildhadfoundhimsickuntodeathinthewaysideditch。
　　Snowhadfallenfreshlyalltheeveninglong;itwasnownearlyten;
　　thetrailoftheboy’sfootstepswasalmostobliterated。IttookPatraschelongtodiscoveranyscent。Whenatlasthefoundit，itwaslostagainquickly，andlostandrecovered，andagainlostandagainrecovered，ahundredtimesormore。
　　Thenightwasverywild。Thelampsunderthewaysidecrosseswereblownout;theroadsweresheetsofice;theimpenetrabledarknesshideverytraceofhabitations;therewasnolivingthingabroad。Allthecattlewerehoused，andinallthehutsandhomesteadsmenandwomenrejoicedandfeasted。TherewasonlyPatrascheoutinthecruelcold——
　　oldandfamishedandfullofpain，butwiththestrengthandthepatienceofagreatlovetosustainhiminhissearch。
　　ThetrailofNello’ssteps，faintandobscureasitwasunderthenewsnow，wentstraightlyalongtheaccustomedtracksintoAntwerp。ItwaspastmidnightwhenPatraschetraceditovertheboundariesofthetownandintothenarrow，tortuous，gloomystreets。Itwasallquitedarkinthetown，savewheresomelightgleamedruddilythroughthecrevicesofhouseshutters，orsomegroupwenthomewardwithlanternschantingdrinking-songs。Thestreetswereallwhitewithice;thehighwallsandroofsloomedblackagainstthem。Therewasscarceasoundsavetheriotofthewindsdownthepassagesastheytossedthecreakingsignsandshookthetalllamp-irons。
　　Somanypassers-byhadtroddenthroughandthroughthesnow，somanydiversepathshadcrossedandrecrossedeachother，thatthedoghadahardtasktoretainanyholdonthetrackhefollowed。Buthekeptonhisway，thoughthecoldpiercedhimtothebone，andthejaggedicecuthisfeet，andthehungerinhisbodygnawedlikearat’steeth。Hekeptonhisway，——apoorgaunt，shiveringthing，——andbylongpatiencetracedthestepshelovedintotheveryheartoftheburganduptothestepsofthegreatcathedral。
　　"Heisgonetothethingsthatheloved，"thoughtPatrasche;hecouldnotunderstand，buthewasfullofsorrowandofpityfortheartpassionthattohimwassoincomprehensibleandyetsosacred。
　　Theportalsofthecathedralwereunclosedafterthemidnightmass。
　　Someheedlessnessinthecustodians，tooeagertogohomeandfeastorsleep，ortoodrowsytoknowwhethertheyturnedthekeysaright，hadleftoneofthedoorsunlocked。BythataccidentthefootfallsPatraschesoughthadpassedthroughintothebuilding，leavingthewhitemarksofsnowuponthedarkstonefloor。Bythatslenderwhitethread，frozenasitfell，hewasguidedthroughtheintensesilence，throughtheimmensityofthevaultedspace——guidedstraighttothegatesofthechancel，and，stretchedthereuponthestones，hefoundNello。Hecreptup，andtouchedthefaceoftheboy。"DidstthoudreamthatIshouldbefaithlessandforsakethee？I——adog？"saidthatmutecaress。
　　Theladraisedhimselfwithalowcryandclaspedhimclose。"Letusliedownanddietogether，"hemurmured。"Menhavenoneedofus，andweareallalone。"
　　Inanswer，Patraschecreptcloseryet，andlaidhisheadupontheyoungboy’sbreast。Thegreattearsstoodinhisbrown，sadeyes;notforhimself——forhimselfhewashappy。
　　Theylayclosetogetherinthepiercingcold。TheblaststhatblewovertheFlemishdikesfromthenorthernseaswerelikewavesofice，whichfrozeeverylivingthingtheytouched。Theinterioroftheimmensevaultofstoneinwhichtheywerewasevenmorebitterlychillthanthesnow-coveredplainswithout。Nowandthenabatmovedintheshadows;nowandthenagleamoflightcameontheranksofcarvenfigures。UndertheRubenstheylaytogetherquitestill，andsoothedalmostintoadreamingslumberbythenumbingnarcoticofthecold。
　　Togethertheydreamedoftheoldgladdayswhentheyhadchasedeachotherthroughthefloweringgrassesofthesummermeadows，orsathiddeninthetallbulrushesbythewater’sside，watchingtheboatsgoseawardinthesun。
　　Suddenlythroughthedarknessagreatwhiteradiancestreamedthroughthevastnessoftheaisles;themoon，thatwasatherheight，hadbrokenthroughtheclouds;thesnowhadceasedtofall;thelightreflectedfromthesnowwithoutwasclearasthelightofdawn。Itfellthroughthearchesfulluponthetwopicturesabove，fromwhichtheboyonhisentrancehadflungbacktheveil：the"Elevation"andthe"DescentoftheCross"wereforoneinstantvisible。
　　Nellorosetohisfeetandstretchedhisarmstothem;thetearsofapassionateecstasyglistenedonthepalenessofhisface。"Ihaveseenthematlast！"hecriedaloud。"OGod，itisenough！"
　　Hislimbsfailedunderhim，andhesankuponhisknees，stillgazingupwardatthemajestythatheadored。Forafewbriefmomentsthelightilluminedthedivinevisionsthathadbeendeniedtohimsolong——lightclearandsweetandstrongasthoughitstreamedfromthethroneofHeaven。Thensuddenlyitpassedaway;oncemoreagreatdarknesscoveredthefaceofChrist。
　　Thearmsoftheboydrewcloseagainthebodyofthedog。"WeshallseeHisface——/there/，"hemurmured;"andHewillnotpartus，I
　　think。"
　　Onthemorrow，bythechancelofthecathedral，thepeopleofAntwerpfoundthemboth。Theywerebothdead;thecoldofthenighthadfrozenintostillnessaliketheyounglifeandtheold。WhentheChristmasmorningbrokeandthepriestscametothetemple，theysawthemlyingthusonthestonestogether。Above，theveilsweredrawnbackfromthegreatvisionsofRubens，andthefreshraysofthesunrisetouchedthethorn-crownedheadoftheChrist。
　　Asthedaygrewontherecameanold，hard-featuredmanwhoweptaswomenweep。"Iwascrueltothelad，"hemuttered;"andnowIwouldhavemadeamends，——yea，tothehalfofmysubstance，——andheshouldhavebeentomeasason。"
　　Therecamealso，asthedaygrewapace，apainterwhohadfameintheworld，andwhowasliberalofhandandofspirit。"Iseekonewhoshouldhavehadtheprizeyesterdayhadworthwon，"hesaidtothepeople——"aboyofrarepromiseandgenius。Anoldwood-cutteronafallentreeateventide——thatwasallhistheme;buttherewasgreatnessforthefutureinit。Iwouldfainfindhim，andtakehimwithmeandteachhimart。"
　　Andalittlechildwithcurlingfairhair，sobbingbitterlyassheclungtoherfather’sarm，criedaloud，"Oh，Nello，come！Wehaveallreadyforthee。TheChrist-child’shandsarefullofgifts，andtheoldpiperwillplayforus;andthemothersaysthoushaltstaybythehearthandburnnutswithusalltheNoelweeklong——yes，eventotheFeastoftheKings！AndPatraschewillbesohappy！Oh，Nello，wakeandcome！"
　　Buttheyoungpaleface，turnedupwardtothelightofthegreatRubenswithasmileuponitsmouth，answeredthemall，"Itistoolate。"
　　Forthesweet，sonorousbellswentringingthroughthefrost，andthesunlightshoneupontheplainsofsnow，andthepopulacetroopedgayandgladthroughthestreets，butNelloandPatraschenomoreaskedcharityattheirhands。AlltheyneedednowAntwerpgaveunbidden。
　　Deathhadbeenmorepitifultothemthanlongerlifewouldhavebeen。
　　Ithadtakentheoneintheloyaltyoflove，andtheotherintheinnocenceoffaith，fromaworldwhichforlovehasnorecompenseandforfaithnofulfilment。
　　Alltheirlivestheyhadbeentogether，andintheirdeathstheywerenotdivided;forwhentheywerefoundthearmsoftheboywerefoldedtoocloselyaroundthedogtobeseveredwithoutviolence，andthepeopleoftheirlittlevillage，contriteandashamed，imploredaspecialgraceforthem，and，makingthemonegrave，laidthemtoresttheresidebyside——forever！
　　MARKHEIM
　　byROBERTLOUISSTEVENSON
　　"Yes，"saidthedealer，"ourwindfallsareofvariouskinds。Somecustomersareignorant，andthenItouchadividendonmysuperiorknowledge。Somearedishonest，"andhereheheldupthecandle，sothatthelightfellstronglyonhisvisitor，"andinthatcase，"hecontinued，"Iprofitbymyvirtue。"
　　Markheimhadbutjustenteredfromthedaylightstreets，andhiseyeshadnotyetgrownfamiliarwiththemingledshineanddarknessintheshop。Atthesepointedwords，andbeforethenearpresenceoftheflame，heblinkedpainfullyandlookedaside。
　　Thedealerchuckled。"YoucometomeonChristmasDay，"heresumed，"whenyouknowthatIamaloneinmyhouse，putupmyshutters，andmakeapointofrefusingbusiness。Well，youwillhavetopayforthat;youwillhavetopayformylossoftime，whenIshouldbebalancingmybooks;youwillhavetopay，besides，forakindofmannerthatIremarkinyouto-dayverystrongly。Iamtheessenceofdiscretion，andasknoawkwardquestions;butwhenacustomercannotlookmeintheeye，hehastopayforit。"Thedealeroncemorechuckled;andthen，changingtohisusualbusinessvoice，thoughstillwithanoteofirony，"Youcangive，asusual，aclearaccountofhowyoucameintothepossessionoftheobject？"hecontinued。"Stillyouruncle’scabinet？Aremarkablecollector，sir！"
　　Andthelittlepale，round-shouldereddealerstoodalmostontip-toe，lookingoverthetopofhisgoldspectacles，andnoddinghisheadwitheverymarkofdisbelief。Markheimreturnedhisgazewithoneofinfinitepity，andatouchofhorror。
　　"Thistime，"saidhe，"youareinerror。Ihavenotcometosell，buttobuy。Ihavenocuriostodisposeof;myuncle’scabinetisbaretothewainscot;evenwereitstillintact，IhavedonewellontheStockExchange，andshouldmorelikelyaddtoitthanotherwise，andmyerrandto-dayissimplicityitself。IseekaChristmaspresentforalady，"hecontinued，waxingmorefluentashestruckintothespeechhehadprepared;"andcertainlyIoweyoueveryexcuseforthusdisturbingyouuponsosmallamatter。Butthethingwasneglectedyesterday;Imustproducemylittlecomplimentatdinner;and，asyouverywellknow，arichmarriageisnotathingtobeneglected。"
　　Therefollowedapause，duringwhichthedealerseemedtoweighthisstatementincredulously。Thetickingofmanyclocksamongthecuriouslumberoftheshop，andthefaintrushingofthecabsinanearthoroughfare，filleduptheintervalofsilence。
　　"Well，sir，"saidthedealer，"beitso。Youareanoldcustomerafterall;andif，asyousay，youhavethechanceofagoodmarriage，farbeitfrommetobeanobstacle。Hereisanicethingforaladynow，"
　　hewenton，"thishand-glass——fifteenthcentury，warranted;comesfromagoodcollection，too;butIreservethename，intheinterestsofmycustomer，whowasjustlikeyourself，mydearsir，thenephewandsoleheirofaremarkablecollector。"
　　Thedealer，whilehethusranoninhisdryandbitingvoice，hadstoopedtotaketheobjectfromitsplace;and，ashehaddoneso，ashockhadpassedthroughMarkheim，astartbothofhandandfoot，asuddenleapofmanytumultuouspassionstotheface。Itpassedasswiftlyasitcame，andleftnotracebeyondacertaintremblingofthehandthatnowreceivedtheglass。
　　"Aglass，"hesaidhoarsely，andthenpaused，andrepeateditmoreclearly。"Aglass？ForChristmas？Surelynot？"
　　"Andwhynot？"criedthedealer。"Whynotaglass？"
　　Markheimwaslookinguponhimwithanindefinableexpression。"Youaskmewhynot？"hesaid。"Why，lookhere——lookinit——lookatyourself！
　　Doyouliketoseeit？No！norI——noranyman。"
　　ThelittlemanhadjumpedbackwhenMarkheimhadsosuddenlyconfrontedhimwiththemirror;butnow，perceivingtherewasnothingworseonhand，hechuckled。"Yourfuturelady，sir，mustbeprettyhardfavoured，"saidhe。
　　"Iaskyou，"saidMarkheim，"foraChristmaspresent，andyougivemethis——thisdamnedreminderofyears，andsinsandfollies——thishand-
　　conscience！Didyoumeanit？Hadyouathoughtinyourmind？Tellme。
　　Itwillbebetterforyouifyoudo。Come，tellmeaboutyourself。I
　　hazardaguessnow，thatyouareinsecretaverycharitableman。"
　　Thedealerlookedcloselyathiscompanion。Itwasveryodd，Markheimdidnotappeartobelaughing;therewassomethinginhisfacelikeaneagersparkleofhope，butnothingofmirth。
　　"Whatareyoudrivingat？"thedealerasked。
　　"Notcharitable？"returnedtheother，gloomily。"Notcharitable;notpious;notscrupulous;unloving，unbeloved;ahandtogetmoney，asafetokeepit。Isthatall？DearGod，man，isthatall？"
　　"Iwilltellyouwhatitis，"beganthedealer，withsomesharpness，andthenbrokeoffagainintoachuckle。"ButIseethisisalovematchofyours，andyouhavebeendrinkingthelady’shealth。"
　　"Ah！"criedMarkheim，withastrangecuriosity。"Ah，haveyoubeeninlove？Tellmeaboutthat。"
　　"I，"criedthedealer。"Iinlove！Ineverhadthetime，norhaveI
　　thetimeto-dayforallthisnonsense。Willyoutaketheglass？"
　　"Whereisthehurry？"returnedMarkheim。"Itisverypleasanttostandheretalking;andlifeissoshortandinsecurethatIwouldnothurryawayfromanypleasure——no，notevenfromsomildaoneasthis。Weshouldrathercling，clingtowhatlittlewecanget，likeamanatacliff’sedge。Everysecondisacliff，ifyouthinkuponit——acliffamilehigh——highenough，ifwefall，todashusoutofeveryfeatureofhumanity。Henceitisbesttotalkpleasantly。Letustalkofeachother;whyshouldwewearthismask？Letusbeconfidential。Whoknows？wemightbecomefriends。"
　　"Ihavejustonewordtosaytoyou，"saidthedealer。"Eithermakeyourpurchase，orwalkoutofmyshop。"
　　"True，true，"saidMarkheim。"Enoughfooling。Tobusiness。Showmesomethingelse。"
　　Thedealerstoopedoncemore，thistimetoreplacetheglassupontheshelf，histhinblondhairfallingoverhiseyesashedidso。
　　Markheimmovedalittlenearer，withonehandinthepocketofhisgreatcoat;hedrewhimselfupandfilledhislungs;atthesametimemanydifferentemotionsweredepictedtogetheronhisface——terror，horror，andresolve，fascinationandaphysicalrepulsion;andthroughahaggardliftofhisupperlip，histeethlookedout。
　　"This，perhaps，maysuit，"observedthedealer。Andthen，ashebegantorearise，Markheimboundedfrombehinduponhisvictim。Thelong，skewer-likedaggerflashedandfell。Thedealerstruggledlikeahen，strikinghistempleontheshelf，andthentumbledonthefloorinaheap。
　　Timehadsomescoreofsmallvoicesinthatshop——somestatelyandslowaswasbecomingtotheirgreatage;othersgarrulousandhurried。
　　Allthesetoldoutthesecondsinanintricatechorusoftickings。
　　Thenthepassageofalad’sfeet，heavilyrunningonthepavement，brokeinuponthesesmallervoicesandstartledMarkheimintotheconsciousnessofhissurroundings。Helookedabouthimawfully。Thecandlestoodonthecounter，itsflamesolemnlywagginginadraught;
　　andbythatinconsiderablemovementthewholeroomwasfilledwithnoiselessbustleandkeptheavinglikeasea：thetallshadowsnodding，thegrossblotsofdarknessswellinganddwindlingaswithrespiration，thefacesoftheportraitsandthechinagodschangingandwaveringlikeimagesinwater。Theinnerdoorstoodajar，andpeeredintothatleaguerofshadowswithalongslitofdaylightlikeapointingfinger。
　　Fromthesefear-strickenrovings，Markheim’seyesreturnedtothebodyofhisvictim，whereitlay，bothhumpedandsprawling，incrediblysmallandstrangelymeanerthaninlife。Inthesepoor，miserlyclothes，inthatungainlyattitude，thedealerlaylikesomuchsawdust。Markheimhadfearedtoseeit，and，lo！itwasnothing。Andyet，ashegazed，thisbundleofoldclothesandpoolofbloodbegantofindeloquentvoices。Thereitmustlie;therewasnonetoworkthecunninghingesordirectthemiracleoflocomotion;thereitmustlietillitwasfound。Found！ay，andthen？ThenwouldthisdeadfleshliftupacrythatwouldringoverEngland，andfilltheworldwiththeechoesofpursuit。Ay，deadornot，thiswasstilltheenemy。
　　"Timewasthatwhenthebrainswereout，"hethought;andthefirstwordstruckintohismind。Time，nowthatthedeedwasaccomplished——
　　time，whichhadclosedforthevictim，hadbecomeinstantandmomentousfortheslayer。
　　Thethoughtwasyetinhismind，when，firstoneandthenanother，witheveryvarietyofpaceandvoice——onedeepasthebellfromacathedralturret，anotherringingonitstreblenotesthepreludeofawaltz，——theclocksbegantostrikethehourofthreeintheafternoon。
　　Thesuddenoutbreakofsomanytonguesinthatdumbchamberstaggeredhim。Hebegantobestirhimself，goingtoandfrowiththecandle，beleagueredbymovingshadows，andstartledtothesoulbychancereflections。Inmanyrichmirrors，someofhomedesign，somefromVeniceorAmsterdam，hesawhisfacerepeatedandrepeated，asitwereanarmyofspies;hisowneyesmetanddetectedhim;andthesoundofhisownsteps，lightlyastheyfell，vexedthesurroundingquiet。Andstill，ashecontinuedtofillhispockets，hismindaccusedhimwithasickeningiteration，ofthethousandfaultsofhisdesign。Heshouldhavechosenamorequiethour;heshouldhavepreparedanalibi;heshouldnothaveusedaknife;heshouldhavebeenmorecautious，andonlyboundandgaggedthedealer，andnotkilledhim;heshouldhavebeenmorebold，andkilledtheservantalso;heshouldhavedoneallthingsotherwise。Poignantregrets，weary，incessanttoilingofthemindtochangewhatwasunchangeable，toplanwhatwasnowuseless，tobethearchitectoftheirrevocablepast。Meanwhile，andbehindallthisactivity，bruteterrors，likethescurryingofratsinadesertedattic，filledthemoreremotechambersofhisbrainwithriot;thehandoftheconstablewouldfallheavyonhisshoulder，andhisnerveswouldjerklikeahookedfish;orhebeheld，ingallopingdefile，thedock，theprison，thegallows，andtheblackcoffin。
　　Terrorofthepeopleinthestreetsatdownbeforehismindlikeabesiegingarmy。Itwasimpossible，hethought，butthatsomerumourofthestrugglemusthavereachedtheirearsandsetonedgetheircuriosity;andnow，inalltheneighbouringhouses，hedivinedthemsittingmotionlessandwithupliftedear——solitarypeople，condemnedtospendChristmasdwellingaloneonmemoriesofthepast，andnowstartinglyrecalledfromthattenderexercise;happyfamilypartiesstruckintosilenceroundthetable，themotherstillwithraisedfinger——everydegreeandageandhumour，butall，bytheirownhearths，pryingandhearkeningandweavingtheropethatwastohanghim。Sometimesitseemedtohimhecouldnotmovetoosoftly;theclinkofthetallBohemiangobletsrangoutloudlylikeabell;andalarmedbythebignessoftheticking，hewastemptedtostoptheclocks。Andthen，again，withaswifttransitionofhisterrors，theverysilenceoftheplaceappearedasourceofperil，andathingtostrikeandfreezethepasser-by;andhewouldstepmoreboldly，andbustlealoudamongthecontentsoftheshop，andimitate，withelaboratebravado，themovementsofabusymanateaseinhisownhouse。
　　Buthewasnowsopulledaboutbydifferentalarmsthat，whileoneportionofhismindwasstillalertandcunning，anothertrembledonthebrinkoflunacy。Onehallucinationinparticulartookastrongholdonhiscredulity。Theneighbourhearkeningwithwhitefacebesidehiswindow，thepasser-byarrestedbyahorriblesurmiseonthepavement——thesecouldatworstsuspect，theycouldnotknow;throughthebrickwallsandshutteredwindowsonlysoundscouldpenetrate。Buthere，withinthehouse，washealone？Heknewhewas;hehadwatchedtheservantsetforthsweet-hearting，inherpoorbest，"outfortheday"writtenineveryribbonandsmile。Yes，hewasalone，ofcourse;
　　andyet，inthebulkofemptyhouseabovehim，hecouldsurelyhearastirofdelicatefooting;hewassurelyconscious，inexplicablyconsciousofsomepresence。Ay，surely;toeveryroomandcornerofthehousehisimaginationfollowedit;andnowitwasafacelessthing，andyethadeyestoseewith;andagainitwasashadowofhimself;andyetagainbeholdtheimageofthedeaddealer，reinspiredwithcunningandhatred。
　　Attimes，withastrongeffort，hewouldglanceattheopendoorwhichstillseemedtorepelhiseyes。Thehousewastall，theskylightsmallanddirty，thedayblindwithfog;andthelightthatfiltereddowntothegroundstorywasexceedinglyfaint，andshoweddimlyonthethresholdoftheshop。Andyet，inthatstripofdoubtfulbrightness，didtherenothangwaveringashadow？
　　Suddenly，fromthestreetoutside，averyjovialgentlemanbegantobeatwithastaffontheshopdoor，accompanyinghisblowswithshoutsandrailleriesinwhichthedealerwascontinuallycalleduponbyname。Markheim，smittenintoice，glancedatthedeadman。Butno！helayquitestill;hewasfledawayfarbeyondearshotoftheseblowsandshoutings;hewassunkbeneathseasofsilence;andhisname，whichwouldoncehavecaughthisnoticeabovethehowlingofastorm，hadbecomeanemptysound。Andpresentlythejovialgentlemandesistedfromhisknockinganddeparted。
　　Herewasabroadhinttohurrywhatremainedtobedone，togetforthfromthisaccusingneighbourhood，toplungeintoabathofLondonmultitudes，andtoreach，ontheothersideofday，thathavenofsafetyandapparentinnocence——hisbed。Onevisitorhadcome;atanymomentanothermightfollowandbemoreobstinate。Tohavedonethedeed，andyetnottoreaptheprofit，wouldbetooabhorrentafailure。Themoney——thatwasnowMarkheim’sconcern;andasameanstothat，thekeys。
　　Heglancedoverhisshoulderattheopendoor，wheretheshadowwasstilllingeringandshivering;andwithnoconsciousrepugnanceofthemind，yetwithatremorofthebelly，hedrewnearthebodyofhisvictim。Thehumancharacterhadquitedeparted。Likeasuithalf-
　　stuffedwithbran，thelimbslayscattered，thetrunkdoubled，onthefloor;andyetthethingrepelledhim。Althoughsodingyandinconsiderabletotheeye，hefeareditmighthavemoresignificancetothetouch。Hetookthebodybytheshoulders，andturneditonitsback。Itwasstrangelylightandsupple，andthelimbs，asiftheyhadbeenbroken，fellintotheoddestpostures。Thefacewasrobbedofallexpression;butitwasaspaleaswax，andshockinglysmearedwithbloodaboutonetemple。Thatwas，forMarkheim，theonedispleasingcircumstance。Itcarriedhimback，upontheinstant，toacertainfair-dayinafishers’village：agrayday，apipingwind，acrowduponthestreet，theblareofbrasses，theboomingofdrums，thenasalvoiceofaballadsinger;andaboygoingtoandfro，buriedoverheadinthecrowdanddividedbetweeninterestandfear，until，comingoutuponthechiefplaceofconcourse，hebeheldaboothandagreatscreenwithpictures，dismallydesigned，garishlycoloured——Brownriggwithherapprentice，theManningswiththeirmurderedguest，Weareinthedeath-gripofThurtell，andascorebesidesoffamouscrimes。ThethingwasasclearasanillusionHewasonceagainthatlittleboy;
　　hewaslookingonceagain，andwiththesamesenseofphysicalrevolt，atthesevilepictures;hewasstillstunnedbythethumpingofthedrums。Abarofthatday’smusicreturneduponhismemory;andatthat，forthefirsttime，aqualmcameoverhim，abreathofnausea，asuddenweaknessofthejoints，whichhemustinstantlyresistandconquer。
　　Hejudgeditmoreprudenttoconfrontthantofleefromtheseconsiderations，lookingthemorehardilyinthedeadface，bendinghismindtorealisethenatureandgreatnessofhiscrime。Solittleawhileagothatfacehadmovedwitheverychangeofsentiment，thatpalemouthhadspoken，thatbodyhadbeenallonfirewithgovernableenergies;andnow，andbyhisact，thatpieceoflifehadbeenarrested，asthehorologist，withinterjectedfinger，arreststhebeatingoftheclock。Sohereasonedinvain;hecouldrisetonomoreremorsefulconsciousness;thesameheartwhichhadshudderedbeforethepaintedeffigiesofcrime，lookedonitsrealityunmoved。Atbest，hefeltagleamofpityforonewhohadbeenendowedinvainwithallthosefacultiesthatcanmaketheworldagardenofenchantment，onewhohadneverlivedandwhowasnowdead。Butofpenitence，no，notatremor。
　　Withthat，shakinghimselfclearoftheseconsiderations，hefoundthekeysandadvancedtowardtheopendooroftheshop。Outside，ithadbeguntorainsmartly，andthesoundoftheshowerupontheroofhadbanishedsilence。Likesomedrippingcavern，thechambersofthehousewerehauntedbyanincessantechoing，whichfilledtheearandmingledwiththetickingoftheclocks。And，asMarkheimapproachedthedoor，heseemedtohear，inanswertohisowncautioustread，thestepsofanotherfootwithdrawingupthestair。Theshadowstillpalpitatedlooselyonthethreshold。Hethrewaton’sweightofresolveuponhismuscles，anddrewbackthedoor。
　　Thefaint，foggydaylightglimmereddimlyonthebarefloorandstairs;onthebrightsuitofarmourposted，halbertinhand，uponthelanding;andonthedarkwood-carvings，andframedpicturesthathungagainsttheyellowpanelsofthewainscot。Soloudwasthebeatingoftherainthroughallthehousethat，inMarkheim’sears，itbegantobedistinguishedintomanydifferentsounds。Footstepsandsighs，thetreadofregimentsmarchinginthedistance，thechinkofmoneyinthecounting，andthecreakingofdoorsheldstealthilyajar，appearedtominglewiththepatterofthedropsuponthecupolaandthegushingofthewaterinthepipes。Thesensethathewasnotalonegrewuponhimtothevergeofmadness。Oneverysidehewashauntedandbegirtbypresences。Heheardthemmovingintheupperchambers;fromtheshop，heheardthedeadmangettingtohislegs;andashebeganwithagreatefforttomountthestairs，feetfledquietlybeforehimandfollowedstealthilybehind。Ifhewerebutdeaf，hethought，howtranquillyhewouldpossesshissoul！Andthenagain，andhearkeningwitheverfreshattention，heblessedhimselfforthatunrestingsensewhichheldtheoutpostsandstoodatrustysentineluponhislife。Hisheadturnedcontinuallyonhisneck;hiseyes，whichseemedstartingfromtheirorbits，scoutedoneveryside，andoneverysidewerehalfrewardedaswiththetailofsomethingnamelessvanishing。Thefourandtwentystepstothefirstfloorwerefourandtwentyagonies。
　　Onthatfirststory，thedoorsstoodajar——threeofthem，likethreeambushes，shakinghisnerveslikethethroatsofcannon。Hecouldneveragain，hefelt，besufficientlyimmuredandfortifiedfrommen’sobservingeyes;helongedtobehome，girtinbywalls，buriedamongbedclothes，andinvisibletoallbutGod。Andatthatthoughthewonderedalittle，recollectingtalesofothermurderersandthefeartheyweresaidtoentertainofheavenlyavengers。Itwasnotso，atleast，withhim。Hefearedthelawsofnature，lest，intheircallousandimmutableprocedure，theyshouldpreservesomedamningevidenceofhiscrime。Hefearedtenfoldmore，withaslavish，superstitiousterror，somescissioninthecontinuityofman’sexperience，somewilfulillegalityofnature。Heplayedagameofskill，dependingontherules，calculatingconsequencefromcause;andwhatifnature，asthedefeatedtyrantoverthrewthechess-board，shouldbreakthemouldoftheirsuccession？ThelikehadbefallenNapoleon（sowriterssaid）
　　whenthewinterchangedthetimeofitsappearance。ThelikemightbefallMarkheim：thesolidwallsmightbecometransparentandrevealhisdoingslikethoseofbeesinaglasshive;thestoutplanksmightyieldunderhisfootlikequicksandsanddetainhimintheirclutch。
　　Ay，andthereweresobereraccidentsthatmightdestroyhim;if，forinstance，thehouseshouldfallandimprisonhimbesidethebodyofhisvictim，orthehousenextdoorshouldflyonfire，andthefiremeninvadehimfromallsides。Thesethingshefeared;and，inasense，thesethingsmightbecalledthehandsofGodreachedforthagainstsin。ButaboutGodhimselfhewasatease;hisactwasdoubtlessexceptional，butsowerehisexcuses，whichGodknew;itwasthere，andnotamongmen，thathefeltsureofjustice。
　　Whenhehadgotsafeintothedrawing-room，andshutthedoorbehindhim，hewasawareofarespitefromalarms。Theroomwasquitedismantled，uncarpetedbesides，andstrewnwithpacking-casesandincongruousfurniture;severalgreatpier-glasses，inwhichhebeheldhimselfatvariousangles，likeanactoronastage;manypictures，framedandunframed，standing，withtheirfacestothewall;afineSheratonsideboard，acabinetofmarquetry，andagreatoldbed，withtapestryhangings。Thewindowsopenedtothefloor;butbygreatgoodfortunethelowerpartoftheshuttershadbeenclosed，andthisconcealedhimfromtheneighbours。Here，then，Markheimdrewinapacking-casebeforethecabinet，andbegantosearchamongthekeys。
　　Itwasalongbusiness，forthereweremany;anditwasirksome，besides;for，afterall，theremightbenothinginthecabinet，andtimewasonthewing。Buttheclosenessoftheoccupationsoberedhim。