福尔摩斯-恐怖谷 The Valley of Fear（12）

Chapter V.

The Darkest Hour

If anything had been needed to give an impetus to Jack McMurdo's popularity among his fellows it would have been his arrest and acquittal. That a man on the very night of joining the lodge should have done something which brought him before the magistrate was a new record in the annals of the society. Already he had earned the reputation of a good boon companion, a cheery reveller, and withal a man of high temper, who would not take an insult even from the all-powerful Boss himself. But in addition to this he impressed his comrades with the idea that among them all there was not one whose brain was so ready to devise a bloodthirsty scheme, or whose hand would be more capable of carrying it out. “He'll be the boy for the clean job,” said the oldsters to one another, and waited their time until they could set him to his work.

McGinty had instruments enough already; but he recognized that this was a supremely able one. He felt like a man holding a fierce bloodhound in leash. There were curs to do the smaller work; but some day he would slip this creature upon its prey. A few members of the lodge, Ted Baldwin among them, resented the rapid rise of the stranger and hated him for it; but they kept clear of him, for he was as ready to fight as to laugh.

But if he gained favour with his fellows, there was another quarter, one which had become even more vital to him, in which he lost it. Ettie Shafter's father would have nothing more to do with him, nor would he allow him to enter the house. Ettie herself was too deeply in love to give him up altogether, and yet her own good sense warned her of what would come from a marriage with a man who was regarded as a criminal.

One morning after a sleepless night she determined to see him, possibly for the last time, and make one strong endeavour to draw him from those evil influences which were sucking him down. She went to his house, as he had often begged her to do, and made her way into the room which he used as his sitting-room. He was seated at a table, with his back turned and a letter in front of him. A sudden spirit of girlish mischief came over her—she was still only nineteen. He had not heard her when she pushed open the door. Now she tiptoed forward and laid her hand lightly upon his bended shoulders.

If she had expected to startle him, she certainly succeeded; but only in turn to be startled herself. With a tiger spring he turned on her, and his right hand was feeling for her throat. At the same instant with the other hand he crumpled up the paper that lay before him. For an instant he stood glaring. Then astonishment and joy took the place of the ferocity which had convulsed his features—a ferocity which had sent her shrinking back in horror as from something which had never before intruded into her gentle life.

“It's you!” said he, mopping his brow. “And to think that you should come to me, heart of my heart, and I should find nothing better to do than to want to strangle you! Come then, darling,” and he held out his arms, “let me make it up to you.”

But she had not recovered from that sudden glimpse of guilty fear which she had read in the man's face. All her woman's instinct told her that it was not the mere fright of a man who is startled. Guilt—that was it—guilt and fear!

“What's come over you, Jack?” she cried. “Why were you so scared of me? Oh, Jack, if your conscience was at ease, you would not have looked at me like that!”

“Sure, I was thinking of other things, and when you came tripping so lightly on those fairy feet of yours—”

“No, no, it was more than that, Jack.” Then a sudden suspicion seized her. “Let me see that letter you were writing.”

“Ah, Ettie, I couldn't do that.”

Her suspicions became certainties. “It's to another woman,” she cried. “I know it! Why else should you hold it from me? Was it to your wife that you were writing? How am I to know that you are not a married man—you, a stranger, that nobody knows?”

“I am not married, Ettie. See now, I swear it! You're the only one woman on earth to me. By the cross of Christ I swear it!”

He was so white with passionate earnestness that she could not but believe him.

“Well, then,” she cried, “why will you not show me the letter?”

“I'll tell you, acushla,” said he. “I'm under oath not to show it, and just as I wouldn't break my word to you so I would keep it to those who hold my promise. It's the business of the lodge, and even to you it's secret. And if I was scared when a hand fell on me, can't you understand it when it might have been the hand of a detective?”

She felt that he was telling the truth. He gathered her into his arms and kissed away her fears and doubts.

“Sit here by me, then. It's a queer throne for such a queen; but it's the best your poor lover can find. He'll do better for you some of these days, I'm thinking. Now your mind is easy once again, is it not?”

“How can it ever be at ease, Jack, when I know that you are a criminal among criminals, when I never know the day that I may hear you are in court for murder? ‘McMurdo the Scowrer,’ that's what one of our boarders called you yesterday. It went through my heart like a knife.”

“Sure, hard words break no bones.”

“But they were true.”

“Well, dear, it's not so bad as you think. We are but poor men that are trying in our own way to get our rights.”

Ettie threw her arms round her lover's neck. “Give it up, Jack! For my sake, for God's sake, give it up! It was to ask you that I came here to-day. Oh, Jack, see—I beg it of you on my bended knees! Kneeling here before you I implore you to give it up!”

He raised her and soothed her with her head against his breast.

“Sure, my darlin', you don't know what it is you are asking. How could I give it up when it would be to break my oath and to desert my comrades? If you could see how things stand with me you could never ask it of me. Besides, if I wanted to, how could I do it? You don't suppose that the lodge would let a man go free with all its secrets?”

“I've thought of that, Jack. I've planned it all. Father has saved some money. He is weary of this place where the fear of these people darkens our lives. He is ready to go. We would fly together to Philadelphia or New York, where we would be safe from them.”

McMurdo laughed. “The lodge has a long arm. Do you think it could not stretch from here to Philadelphia or New York?”

“Well, then, to the West, or to England, or to Germany, where father came from—anywhere to get away from this Valley of Fear!”

McMurdo thought of old Brother Morris. “Sure, it is the second time I have heard the valley so named,” said he. “The shadow does indeed seem to lie heavy on some of you.”

“It darkens every moment of our lives. Do you suppose that Ted Baldwin has ever forgiven us? If it were not that he fears you, what do you suppose our chances would be? If you saw the look in those dark, hungry eyes of his when they fall on me!”

“By Gar! I'd teach him better manners if I caught him at it! But see here, little girl. I can't leave here. I can't—take that from me once and for all. But if you will leave me to find my own way, I will try to prepare a way of getting honourably out of it.”

“There is no honour in such a matter.”

“Well, well, it's just how you look at it. But if you'll give me six months, I'll work it so that I can leave without being ashamed to look others in the face.”

The girl laughed with joy. “Six months!” she cried. “Is it a promise?”

“Well, it may be seven or eight. But within a year at the furthest we will leave the valley behind us.”

It was the most that Ettie could obtain, and yet it was something. There was this distant light to illuminate the gloom of the immediate future. She returned to her father's house more light-hearted than she had ever been since Jack McMurdo had come into her life.

It might be thought that as a member, all the doings of the society would be told to him; but he was soon to discover that the organization was wider and more complex than the simple lodge. Even Boss McGinty was ignorant as to many things; for there was an official named the County Delegate, living at Hobson's Patch farther down the line, who had power over several different lodges which he wielded in a sudden and arbitrary way. Only once did McMurdo see him, a sly, little gray-haired rat of a man, with a slinking gait and a sidelong glance which was charged with malice. Evans Pott was his name, and even the great Boss of Vermissa felt towards him something of the repulsion and fear which the huge Danton may have felt for the puny but dangerous Robespierre.

One day Scanlan, who was McMurdo's fellow boarder, received a note from McGinty inclosing one from Evans Pott, which informed him that he was sending over two good men, Lawler and Andrews, who had instructions to act in the neighbourhood; though it was best for the cause that no particulars as to their objects should be given. Would the Bodymaster see to it that suitable arrangements be made for their lodgings and comfort until the time for action should arrive? McGinty added that it was impossible for anyone to remain secret at the Union House, and that, therefore, he would be obliged if McMurdo and Scanlan would put the strangers up for a few days in their boarding house.

The same evening the two men arrived, each carrying his gripsack. Lawler was an elderly man, shrewd, silent, and self-contained, clad in an old black frock coat, which with his soft felt hat and ragged, grizzled beard gave him a general resemblance to an itinerant preacher. His companion Andrews was little more than a boy, frank-faced and cheerful, with the breezy manner of one who is out for a holiday and means to enjoy every minute of it. Both men were total abstainers, and behaved in all ways as exemplary members of the society, with the one simple exception that they were assassins who had often proved themselves to be most capable instruments for this association of murder. Lawler had already carried out fourteen commissions of the kind, and Andrews three.

They were, as McMurdo found, quite ready to converse about their deeds in the past, which they recounted with the half-bashful pride of men who had done good and unselfish service for the community. They were reticent, however, as to the immediate job in hand.

“They chose us because neither I nor the boy here drink,” Lawler explained. “They can count on us saying no more than we should. You must not take it amiss, but it is the orders of the County Delegate that we obey.”

“Sure, we are all in it together,” said Scanlan, McMurdo's mate, as the four sat together at supper.

“That's true enough, and we'll talk till the cows come home of the killing of Charlie Williams or of Simon Bird, or any other job in the past. But till the work is done we say nothing.”

“There are half a dozen about here that I have a word to say to,” said McMurdo, with an oath. “I suppose it isn't Jack Knox of Ironhill that you are after. I'd go some way to see him get his deserts.”

“No, it's not him yet.”

“Or Herman Strauss?”

“No, nor him either.”

“Well, if you won't tell us we can't make you; but I'd be glad to know.”

Lawler smiled and shook his head. He was not to be drawn.

In spite of the reticence of their guests, Scanlan and McMurdo were quite determined to be present at what they called “the fun.” When, therefore, at an early hour one morning McMurdo heard them creeping down the stairs he awakened Scanlan, and the two hurried on their clothes. When they were dressed they found that the others had stolen out, leaving the door open behind them. It was not yet dawn, and by the light of the lamps they could see the two men some distance down the street. They followed them warily, treading noiselessly in the deep snow.

The boarding house was near the edge of the town, and soon they were at the crossroads which is beyond its boundary. Here three men were waiting, with whom Lawler and Andrews held a short, eager conversation. Then they all moved on together. It was clearly some notable job which needed numbers. At this point there are several trails which lead to various mines. The strangers took that which led to the Crow Hill, a huge business which was in strong hands which had been able, thanks to their energetic and fearless New England manager, Josiah H. Dunn, to keep some order and discipline during the long reign of terror.

Day was breaking now, and a line of workmen were slowly making their way, singly and in groups, along the blackened path.

McMurdo and Scanlan strolled on with the others, keeping in sight of the men whom they followed. A thick mist lay over them, and from the heart of it there came the sudden scream of a steam whistle. It was the ten-minute signal before the cages descended and the day's labour began.

When they reached the open space round the mine shaft there were a hundred miners waiting, stamping their feet and blowing on their fingers; for it was bitterly cold. The strangers stood in a little group under the shadow of the engine house. Scanlan and McMurdo climbed a heap of slag from which the whole scene lay before them. They saw the mine engineer, a great bearded Scotchman named Menzies, come out of the engine house and blow his whistle for the cages to be lowered.

At the same instant a tall, loose-framed young man with a clean-shaved, earnest face advanced eagerly towards the pit head. As he came forward his eyes fell upon the group, silent and motionless, under the engine house. The men had drawn down their hats and turned up their collars to screen their faces. For a moment the presentiment of Death laid its cold hand upon the manager's heart. At the next he had shaken it off and saw only his duty towards intrusive strangers.

“Who are you?” he asked as he advanced. “What are you loitering there for?”

There was no answer; but the lad Andrews stepped forward and shot him in the stomach. The hundred waiting miners stood as motionless and helpless as if they were paralyzed. The manager clapped his two hands to the wound and doubled himself up. Then he staggered away; but another of the assassins fired, and he went down sidewise, kicking and clawing among a heap of clinkers. Menzies, the Scotchman, gave a roar of rage at the sight and rushed with an iron spanner at the murderers; but was met by two balls in the face which dropped him dead at their very feet.

There was a surge forward of some of the miners, and an inarticulate cry of pity and of anger; but a couple of the strangers emptied their six-shooters over the heads of the crowd, and they broke and scattered, some of them rushing wildly back to their homes in Vermissa.

When a few of the bravest had rallied, and there was a return to the mine, the murderous gang had vanished in the mists of morning, without a single witness being able to swear to the identity of these men who in front of a hundred spectators had wrought this double crime.

Scanlan and McMurdo made their way back; Scanlan somewhat subdued, for it was the first murder job that he had seen with his own eyes, and it appeared less funny than he had been led to believe. The horrible screams of the dead manager's wife pursued them as they hurried to the town. McMurdo was absorbed and silent; but he showed no sympathy for the weakening of his companion.

“Sure, it is like a war,” he repeated. “What is it but a war between us and them, and we hit back where we best can.”

There was high revel in the lodge room at the Union House that night, not only over the killing of the manager and engineer of the Crow Hill mine, which would bring this organization into line with the other blackmailed and terror-stricken companies of the district, but also over a distant triumph which had been wrought by the hands of the lodge itself.

It would appear that when the County Delegate had sent over five good men to strike a blow in Vermissa, he had demanded that in return three Vermissa men should be secretly selected and sent across to kill William Hales of Stake Royal, one of the best known and most popular mine owners in the Gilmerton district, a man who was believed not to have an enemy in the world; for he was in all ways a model employer. He had insisted, however, upon efficiency in the work, and had, therefore, paid off certain drunken and idle employees who were members of the all-powerful society. Coffin notices hung outside his door had not weakened his resolution, and so in a free, civilized country he found himself condemned to death.

The execution had now been duly carried out. Ted Baldwin, who sprawled now in the seat of honour beside the Bodymaster, had been chief of the party. His flushed face and glazed, blood-shot eyes told of sleeplessness and drink. He and his two comrades had spent the night before among the mountains. They were unkempt and weather-stained. But no heroes, returning from a forlorn hope, could have had a warmer welcome from their comrades.

The story was told and retold amid cries of delight and shouts of laughter. They had waited for their man as he drove home at nightfall, taking their station at the top of a steep hill, where his horse must be at a walk. He was so furred to keep out the cold that he could not lay his hand on his pistol. They had pulled him out and shot him again and again. He had screamed for mercy. The screams were repeated for the amusement of the lodge.

“Let's hear again how he squealed,” they cried.

None of them knew the man; but there is eternal drama in a killing, and they had shown the Scowrers of Gilmerton that the Vermissa men were to be relied upon.

There had been one contretemps; for a man and his wife had driven up while they were still emptying their revolvers into the silent body. It had been suggested that they should shoot them both; but they were harmless folk who were not connected with the mines, so they were sternly bidden to drive on and keep silent, lest a worse thing befall them. And so the blood-mottled figure had been left as a warning to all such hard-hearted employers, and the three noble avengers had hurried off into the mountains where unbroken nature comes down to the very edge of the furnaces and the slag heaps. Here they were, safe and sound, their work well done, and the plaudits of their companions in their ears.

It had been a great day for the Scowrers. The shadow had fallen even darker over the valley. But as the wise general chooses the moment of victory in which to redouble his efforts, so that his foes may have no time to steady themselves after disaster, so Boss McGinty, looking out upon the scene of his operations with his brooding and malicious eyes, had devised a new attack upon those who opposed him. That very night, as the half-drunken company broke up, he touched McMurdo on the arm and led him aside into that inner room where they had their first interview.

“See here, my lad,” said he, “I've got a job that's worthy of you at last. You'll have the doing of it in your own hands.”

“Proud I am to hear it,” McMurdo answered.

“You can take two men with you—Manders and Reilly. They have been warned for service. We'll never be right in this district until Chester Wilcox has been settled, and you'll have the thanks of every lodge in the coal fields if you can down him.”

“I'll do my best, anyhow. Who is he, and where shall I find him?”

McGinty took his eternal half-chewed, half-smoked cigar from the corner of his mouth, and proceeded to draw a rough diagram on a page torn from his notebook.

“He's the chief foreman of the Iron Dike Company. He's a hard citizen, an old colour sergeant of the war, all scars and grizzle. We've had two tries at him; but had no luck, and Jim Carnaway lost his life over it. Now it's for you to take it over. That's the house—all alone at the Iron Dike crossroad, same as you see here on the map—without another within earshot. It's no good by day. He's armed and shoots quick and straight, with no questions asked. But at night—well, there he is with his wife, three children, and a hired help. You can't pick or choose. It's all or none. If you could get a bag of blasting powder at the front door with a slow match to it—”

“What's the man done?”

“Didn't I tell you he shot Jim Carnaway?”

“Why did he shoot him?”

“What in thunder has that to do with you? Carnaway was about his house at night, and he shot him. That's enough for me and you. You've got to settle the thing right.”

“There's these two women and the children. Do they go up too?”

“They have to—else how can we get him?”

“It seems hard on them; for they've done nothing.”

“What sort of fool's talk is this? Do you back out?”

“Easy, Councillor, easy! What have I ever said or done that you should think I would be after standing back from an order of the Bodymaster of my own lodge? If it's right or if it's wrong, it's for you to decide.”

“You'll do it, then?”

“Of course I will do it.”

“When?”

“Well, you had best give me a night or two that I may see the house and make my plans. Then—”

“Very good,” said McGinty, shaking him by the hand. “I leave it with you. It will be a great day when you bring us the news. It's just the last stroke that will bring them all to their knees.”

McMurdo thought long and deeply over the commission which had been so suddenly placed in his hands. The isolated house in which Chester Wilcox lived was about five miles off in an adjacent valley. That very night he started off all alone to prepare for the attempt. It was daylight before he returned from his reconnaissance. Next day he interviewed his two subordinates, Manders and Reilly, reckless youngsters who were as elated as if it were a deer-hunt.

Two nights later they met outside the town, all three armed, and one of them carrying a sack stuffed with the powder which was used in the quarries. It was two in the morning before they came to the lonely house. The night was a windy one, with broken clouds drifting swiftly across the face of a three-quarter moon. They had been warned to be on their guard against bloodhounds; so they moved forward cautiously, with their pistols cocked in their hands. But there was no sound save the howling of the wind, and no movement but the swaying branches above them.

McMurdo listened at the door of the lonely house; but all was still within. Then he leaned the powder bag against it, ripped a hole in it with his knife, and attached the fuse. When it was well alight he and his two companions took to their heels, and were some distance off, safe and snug in a sheltering ditch, before the shattering roar of the explosion, with the low, deep rumble of the collapsing building, told them that their work was done. No cleaner job had ever been carried out in the bloodstained annals of the society.

But alas that work so well organized and boldly carried out should all have gone for nothing! Warned by the fate of the various victims, and knowing that he was marked down for destruction, Chester Wilcox had moved himself and his family only the day before to some safer and less known quarters, where a guard of police should watch over them. It was an empty house which had been torn down by the gunpowder, and the grim old colour sergeant of the war was still teaching discipline to the miners of Iron Dike.

“Leave him to me,” said McMurdo. “He's my man, and I'll get him sure if I have to wait a year for him.”

A vote of thanks and confidence was passed in full lodge, and so for the time the matter ended. When a few weeks later it was reported in the papers that Wilcox had been shot at from an ambuscade, it was an open secret that McMurdo was still at work upon his unfinished job.

Such were the methods of the Society of Freemen, and such were the deeds of the Scowrers by which they spread their rule of fear over the great and rich district which was for so long a period haunted by their terrible presence. Why should these pages be stained by further crimes? Have I not said enough to show the men and their methods?

These deeds are written in history, and there are records wherein one may read the details of them. There one may learn of the shooting of Policemen Hunt and Evans because they had ventured to arrest two members of the society—a double outrage planned at the Vermissa lodge and carried out in cold blood upon two helpless and disarmed men. There also one may read of the shooting of Mrs. Larbey when she was nursing her husband, who had been beaten almost to death by orders of Boss McGinty. The killing of the elder Jenkins, shortly followed by that of his brother, the mutilation of James Murdoch, the blowing up of the Staphouse family, and the murder of the Stendals all followed hard upon one another in the same terrible winter.

Darkly the shadow lay upon the Valley of Fear. The spring had come with running brooks and blossoming trees. There was hope for all Nature bound so long in an iron grip; but nowhere was there any hope for the men and women who lived under the yoke of the terror. Never had the cloud above them been so dark and hopeless as in the early summer of the year 1875.

五　最黑暗的时刻

杰克·麦克默多自从被捕和无罪释放以后，在他那一伙人中，声名大噪。一个人在入会的当夜就干了一些事，使他在法官面前受审，在这个社一团一是史无前例的。他已赢得很高的声望，人们认为他是一个好酒友，兴致很高的狂欢者，一性一情高傲，绝不肯受人侮辱，即便对具有无上权威的首领本人，他也绝不让步。可是除此之外，他还给同伙留下了很深的印象：大家认为，在全分会，没有一个人的头脑能象他那样转眼就能想出一个嗜血成一性一的一陰一谋诡计，也没有一个人的手能象他那样把一陰一谋诡计付诸实施。“他一定是一个手脚利落的家伙，"那些老家伙们议论道，他们等待着时机，让麦克默多开始大显身手。

麦金蒂手中已有足够的役使工具，可是他认为麦克默多是一个最有才干的人，他觉得自己好象一个主人用品带系住一条凶残嗜血的猎犬，用一些劣种狗去做小事，但总有一天要放开这个凶兽去捕食。少数会员，其中也有鲍德一温一，对这个外来人升得很快深感不满，甚至怀恨在心，可是他们却回避他，因为麦克默多就象轻易笑闹一样随时可以和人决斗。

不过，假如说麦克默多在一党一羽中赢得了荣誉，而他却失去了另外一个、甚至是对他更重要的方面，那就是伊蒂·谢夫特的父亲从此不再和他打一交一道，也不许他上门。伊蒂深深沉缅于对麦克默多的一爱一情之中，但她善良的心一性一却也觉得，倘若和一个暴徒结婚，很难料想后果如何。

一天夜晚，伊蒂辗转反侧，彻夜未眠。早晨，她决心去看望麦克默多，她想或许这是最后一次和他见面了，要尽最大努力把他从那些拉他下水的恶势力下挽救出来。因为麦克默多经常求她到他家中去，她便向麦克默多家走来，径直奔向他的起居室。麦克默多正坐在桌前，背对着门口，面前放着一封信。年方十九的伊蒂，陡然闪过一个女孩子的顽皮念头。伊蒂轻轻把门推开，见麦克默多丝毫没有察觉，便蹑手蹑脚地悄悄走向前去，把手轻轻放在他的肩上。

伊蒂本想吓一吓麦克默多，这一着肯定办到了；但没有料到自己也受到惊吓。麦克默多象老虎一般反身一跃而起，把右手扼到伊蒂咽喉上。与此同时，左手把他面前放的信一揉一成一一团一。一时间他怒目横眉地站在那里。可是，定睛一看，不由惊喜一交一加，马上收敛其他那凶恶的面容。伊蒂已被吓得向后退缩，因为在她那平静文雅的生活中还从未碰到过这样的事。

“原来是你呀！"麦克默多擦去额上的冷汗，说道，“没有想到是你来，我亲一爱一的，我差点没把你扼死。来吧，亲一爱一的，"麦克默多伸出双手说道，“让我来向你赔礼。”

伊蒂突然从麦克默多的表情上看出，他是因犯罪而惊恐。这使她惊魂未定。她那妇女的本能告诉自己，麦克默多决不是徒然受惊才吓成这个样子。他是犯罪——就是这个问题——是因犯罪而惊恐！

“你出了什么事？杰克，"伊蒂高声说道，“为什么我把你吓成这样？噢，杰克，假如你问心无愧的话，那你决不会这样看着我的！”

“不错，我正在想别的事情，所以你那么婀娜轻一盈地走进来……”

“不，不，决不仅是这样，杰克，"伊蒂突然产生了怀疑，“让我看看你写的那封信。”

“啊，伊蒂。我不能给你看。”

伊蒂更加怀疑了。

“那是给另一个女人写的，"她叫嚷道，“我知道了！你为什么不让我看？那是给你妻子写的信吧？我怎能确定你是一个未婚男子呢？你是一个外来人，没有一个人了解你。”

“我没有结过婚，伊蒂。瞧，我现在发誓！你是世上我唯一一爱一的女子。我对耶稣的十字架发誓！”

麦克默多面色苍白，激动恳挚地辩白说，伊蒂只得相信他。

“好，那么，"伊蒂说道，“你为什么不愿让我看那封信呢？”

“我告诉你说，我亲一爱一的，"麦克默多说道，“我曾宣誓不给别人看这封信，正象我不会破坏我对你发过的誓言一样。因此，我要对接受我誓言的人守信用。这是会里的事务，即使对你也要保守秘密。当你把一只手放到我肩上时，我之所以受到惊吓，因为这可能是一只侦探的手啊，难道连这你还不明白吗？”

伊蒂觉得他说的都是实话。麦克默多把她抱在怀里亲一吻，来驱散她的惊恐和怀疑。

“那么，请坐在我身旁。这是王后的奇异宝座，不过这已是你贫穷的情一人所能给你的最好的东西了。我想，将来总有一天他会让你得到幸福的。现在你一精一神好一点了吗？”

“当我知道你是罪犯中的一员时，当我不晓得哪一天会听到法庭审理你的杀人案件时，我的一精一神怎么能有一时期刻的安宁呢？昨天，我们的一个房客这样称呼你，说什么麦克默多这个死酷一党一人。这简直象一把刀子扎到我心里一样啊！”

“确实，让他们说去好了，没什么了不起。”

“可是他们说的是实话。”

“好，亲一爱一的，事情不是象你想得那么坏。我们不过是一些穷人，试图用我们的手段，争取我们的权力罢了。”

伊蒂双臂搂住她情一人的颈项。"放弃它吧！杰克，为了我，为了上帝，放弃它吧！今天我就是为了求你才到这儿来的。噢，杰克，看，我跪下来求求你！我跪在你面前恳求你放弃它！”

麦克默多抱起伊蒂，把她的头放在胸前，抚一慰她道：“当然，我亲一爱一的，你不知道你的要求意味着什么。如果意味着破坏我的誓言，背离我的同伙，我怎么能放弃它呢？假如你能明白我干的是什么事，你就不会向我要求这个了。再说，即使我想这样做，我又怎能做得到呢？你不想一想，死酷一党一能容许一个人携带它的一切秘密随便走掉吗？”

“我想到这点了，杰克。我完全计划好了。父亲储蓄了一些钱。他早已厌倦了这个地方，在这里那些人的恐怖行为使我们的生活暗淡无光。父亲已经准备离开。我们一起逃往费城，或是去纽约，到那里我们就安全了，不必再怕他们。”

麦克默多笑了笑，说道：“这个会一党一手伸得很长。你以为它不能从这里伸到费城或纽约去吗？”

“好，那么，我们去西方，或是去英国，或是去德国，爸爸就是那里人。只要离开这恐怖谷，到哪里都行。”

麦克默多想到了老莫里斯兄弟。

“真的，我听到这样称呼这座山谷，这已是第二次了，"麦克默多说道，“这一陰一霾看来确实压在你们许多人头上。”

“它无时无刻不使我们的生活惨淡无光。你想特德·鲍德一温一会宽恕我们吗？假如不是他怕你，你想我们的运气会怎么样？你只要看看他望着我时的那种如饥似渴的眼光就够了！”

“皇天在上！假如我再碰到他这样，一定要好好教训教训他。不过，小泵一娘一，我不能离开这里。我不能。请彻底相信我的话吧。不过只要你让我自己去想办法，我一定会找到体面的出路的。”

“干这样的事是不体面的。”

“好，好，这不过是你的看法。可是只要你给我六个月的时间，我可以做到使我离开这里时毫不愧对于人。”

姑一娘一高兴得笑了。

“六个月！"她大声说道，“这是你的诺言吗？”

“对，也可能七个月或八个月。可是最多不过一年，我们就可以离开这个山谷了。”

伊蒂所能得到的莫过这些了，但这些却很重要。这隐隐的一丝曙光，就把将来的一切一陰一霾一驱而尽。她满心轻松愉快地回到父亲家中。自从杰克·麦克默多闯入她的生活以来，她还从未有过这种心情。

也许有人以为，死酷一党一所做所为全都会让它的一党一徒知道的，可是他很快就会发现这个组织比一般简单的分会要广泛、复杂得多。即使身主麦金蒂对许多事也一无所知。因为有一个称为县代表的官员，住在离市中心很远的霍布森领地，他用出人意外而又专横的手段行使权力，统治着各个不同的分会。麦克默多仅仅看到过他一次，这是一个狡诈的人，头发有点发灰，行动鬼鬼祟祟，活象一只耗子，总是充满恶意地斜眼看人。此人名叫伊万斯·波特。甚至维尔米萨的大头目在他面前也感到有些畏惧。如同非凡的丹东在凶险的罗伯斯比尔面前①②感到软弱无力一样。

①丹东（Danton1759——1794）十八世纪末法国资产阶级革命的著名活动家、律师。他说过：“为了战胜敌人，必须勇敢，勇敢，还要勇敢。"后丹东及其附和者实质上变成了反革命政一党一，1794年4月5日被革命法庭判处死刑。——译者注

②罗伯斯比尔（Robespierre1758——1794）十八世纪末法国资产阶级革命的著名活动家。雅各宾派专一政（1793年6月——1794年7月）的革命政一府首脑。——译者注

一天，麦克默多同寓的伙伴斯坎伦收到麦金蒂的一封便笺，里面附有伊万斯·波特写来的信，信上通知说，将派两名得力人员——劳勒和安德鲁斯——到邻区行一事，而对他们行一事的对象，就不做详细说明了。身主是否可以给他们安徘适当住处？麦金蒂写道，在工会里任何人都无法保守秘密，因此，他责成麦克默多和斯坎伦把这两个来人安排在他们寓所住几天。

就在当天夜晚，这两个人来了，每个人带着一个手提包。劳勒年龄较大，是一个一精一明人，沉默寡言，比较稳重，身着一件旧礼服大衣，戴一顶软毡帽，乱蓬蓬的灰白一胡一子，使人感到他是一个巡回传教士。他的伙伴安德鲁斯是一个半大的孩子，面容坦率，一性一情开朗，举止轻快活泼，好象一个人出来欢度假期，准备不放过一分钟地尽情欢乐似的。两个人都绝不饮酒，从各方面看都是地地道道的一党一徒。他们是这个杀人协会的得力工具和杀人凶手。劳勒已经干过十四次这类犯罪活动，安德鲁斯也杀过三次人了。

麦克默多发现，他们很乐意谈自己过去的作为，讲起来颇为得意，带着为社一团一立下过汗马功劳的骄傲神情。但对目前要执行的任务却守口如瓶。

“他们选派我们来是因为我和这个孩子都不饮酒，"劳勒解释说，“他们相信我们不会说出我们不应该说的。这是县代表的命令，我们必须服从。请你们不要见怪。”

“当然了，我们都是同一党一，"麦克默多的同宿人斯坎伦说道，这时四人坐下共进晚餐。

“这是实话，我们可以毫无限制地谈论如何杀死查利·威廉斯，或者如何杀死西蒙·伯德，以及过去的其他案子。可是在我们这件事未得手之前，我们什么也不能谈。”

“这里有六七个人，我要教训他们，"麦克默多咒骂道，“我猜，你们是不是追踪铁山的杰克·诺克斯？我认为他应该得到惩罚。”

“不，还不是他。”

“要不然是赫尔曼·斯特劳斯？”

“不，也不是他。”

“好，如果你们不肯说，我们也不勉强，可是我很愿意知道。”

劳勒摇头微笑。他是坚决不肯开口了。

尽避他俩缄默不言，斯坎伦和麦克默多却决定参加他们所说的"游戏"。所以，一天清晨，麦克默多听到他们蹑手蹑脚地下了楼，便把斯坎伦叫醒，急忙穿上衣服。这时房门大开，天还没亮，他们借助灯光，看到那两个人已经走到街上，麦克默多和斯坎伦便小心翼翼地尾随踏雪而行。

他们的寓所靠近镇边，那两个人很快走到镇外边十字路口。另有三人早在那里等候，劳勒和安德鲁斯与他们匆匆说了几句话，便一同走了。可想而知，一定是有重大的事情，所以要用这么多人。有几条小径通往各个矿场，这些人走上一条通往克劳山去的小路。那里的矿场掌握在一个极有气力、一精一明能干的人手中，由于这个英国经理乔塞亚·一邓一恩一精一力旺盛、不惧邪恶，所以长期以来，尽避恐怖笼罩着山谷，这里却依然纪律严明，秩序井然。

天色已经大亮，工人们慢慢上路，有的独自一人，有的三五成群，沿着踩黑了的小路走去。

麦克默多和斯坎伦混在人群中慢步走去，始终保持能望到他们所尾随的人。一股浓烟升起，随着是一阵汽笛的刺耳尖一叫一声。这是开工信号，十分钟以后，罐笼就要降下去，劳动也就开始了。

他们来到矿井周围空旷的地方，已经有上百名矿工等在那里，因为天气严寒，他们不住跺脚，向手上呵气。这几个陌生人站在机房附近。斯坎伦和麦克默多登上一堆煤渣，可以从此处望到全景。他们看到矿务技师，这位叫做孟席斯的大一胡一子苏格兰人，从机房走出来，吹响哨子，指挥罐笼降下去。

这时，一个身一体颀长、面容诚恳、脸刮得光光的年轻人，向矿井前走去。在他走过来时，一眼看到机房旁那伙默不作声、站着不动的人，这伙人把帽子戴得很低，竖一起大衣领子遮着脸。一瞬间这个经理预感到死神把它冷酷的手抚到他的心上，但他不顾一切，只顾恪尽职责，要去驱逐这几个闯来的陌生人。

“你们是什么人？"他一面向前走，一面问道，“你们在这里游荡什么？”

没有一个人回答他，可是少年安德鲁斯走上前去，一槍射中他的肚子。这上百名等候上工的矿工一动也不动，手足无措地站在那里，似乎已被吓得目瞪口呆。这个经理双手捂住伤口，弯下一身一子，摇摇晃晃地走向一旁，可是另一个凶手又开了槍，他便倒在地上，在一堆渣块间挣扎一性一命了。那个苏格兰人孟席斯见了，大吼一声，举起一根大铁扳手向凶手们打去，可是他脸上立刻中了两槍，也倒在凶手脚旁死去。

这时一阵哗乱，一些矿工涌一向前来，可是两个陌生人向众人头上连发数槍，于是人群溃散开来，一些人径直跑回维尔米萨自己家中去了。

只有少数最胆大的人重新聚在一起，又返回矿山来。这伙杀人犯已经消逝在清晨的薄雾中，他们虽然当着上百名旁观者的面杀害了两条一性一命，却没有留下一点证据。

斯坎伦和麦克默多转回家去。斯坎伦心情懊丧，因为这还是他第一次亲眼目睹杀人行凶，而且不象人家让他相信的那样，是一种"游戏"。在他们赶回镇内时，被害经理的妻子可怕的哭叫一声一直萦绕在他们耳边。麦克默多受到很大震动，一言不发，不过他看到同伴如此懦弱，却也不以为然。

“真的，这象是一场战争，"麦克默多重复说道，“我们和他们之间不是战争是什么呢？不管在什么地方，只要能回击就向他们回击。”

这天夜晚，工会大楼中分会办公室里大肆狂欢，不仅庆祝刺杀克劳山煤矿经理和技师的胜利，这场胜利使该会一党一对被勒索和吓昏了的公司可以为所欲为；而且还庆祝分会本身多年来取得的胜利。

在县代表派五名得力人手到维尔米萨来行刺时，他要求，维尔米萨秘密选派三个人去杀害斯特克罗亚尔市的威廉·黑尔斯作为酬谢。黑尔斯是吉尔默敦地区的一个人所共知、受人一爱一戴的矿产主。他深信他在世上没有敌人，因为不管从哪方面看他都是一个模范的雇主。但是，他在工作中很讲求效率，曾把一些酗酒闹事、游手好闲的雇员辞退了，而他们正是具有无上权势的死酷一党一的一党一员。即使死亡威胁着他，也不能动摇他的决心。而在一个自一由文明的国家里，他却被人杀害了。

他们杀人以后，特德·鲍德一温一摊开四肢，半躺在身主旁边的荣誉席上，他是这一组人的头目。他那绯红的面孔以及呆滞、充满血丝的双眼说明他没有睡觉和饮酒过量。头一天他和两个同伙在山中过了一一夜。他们不修边幅，疲惫不堪。可是没有哪些从敢死队回来的英雄，能象他们那样得到同伙这样热烈的欢迎。

他们兴高采烈地一遍又一遍讲说他们的杰作，伴随而来的是兴奋的叫喊声、狂笑声。他们在陡峭的山顶上隐藏起来，守候他们准备杀害的人黄昏回家，他们知道，这个人一定会让他的马在这里缓辔而行。因为天气严寒，被害者穿着一毛一皮衣服，以至未来得及掏出手槍。他们把他拉下马来，一连打了他好几槍。他曾高声求饶。这求饶声被死酷一党一人翻来覆去说着当作笑料。

“让我们再听听他怎样惨叫，"这些匪徒们叫喊道。

他们谁也不认识这个人，可是这是杀人行乐的无穷无尽的戏剧一性一事件，他们是为了向吉尔默敦地区的死酷一党一人显示，自己是可以信赖的人。

还有一个意外事件，当他们把手中槍里的子弹都倾泻到这个僵卧的一尸一体上时，一对夫起正驱车来到这里。有人提议连这两个人一起干掉，可是这两个人与这矿山毫无关系，所以他们厉声命令这对夫岂不许声张，赶紧走开，以免遭到不幸。因此，那血肉模糊的一尸一体则被丢在那里，向那些铁一硬心肠的矿主示警，而那三名杰出的复仇者则消逝在亘古未曾开拓的荒山僻壤之中。

他们得了手，在这里安全而稳妥，同一党一们的赞扬喝彩声不绝于耳。

这是死酷一党一人得意的日子，一陰一霾笼罩了全谷。可是正如一个足智多谋的将军选择了胜利的时机，可以加倍扩大战果，使敌军溃败后无暇整顿一样，首领麦金蒂一陰一险恶毒的双眼前浮现出一个作战方案，筹划新的诡计去谋害那些反对他的人。就在这天晚上，喝得半醉的一党一徒们走散以后，麦金蒂碰了碰麦克默多的胳臂，把他引到他们第一次见面的那间内室里。

“喂，我的伙计，"麦金蒂说道，“我终于给你找到了一件值得你干的差事。你可以亲手去完成它。”

“听到这我很感骄傲，"麦克默多答道。

“你可以带两个人和你一起去，这两个人是曼德斯和赖利。我已经吩咐过他们了。不除去切斯特·威尔科克斯，我们在这一地区就永远不能安心。假如你能把他干掉，你就能赢得产煤区每一分会的感谢。”

“无论如何，我一定尽力去做。他是谁？我在哪里可以找到他？”

麦金蒂从嘴角拿开雪茄，从笔记本上撕下一张纸来，开始画一个草图。

“他是戴克钢铁公司的总领班，是个意志刚强的人，是战时的一个老海军陆战队上士，受过许多伤，头发灰白。我们曾两次去解决他，都没有成功，而吉姆·卡纳威反而丧失了一性一命。现在请你接着去完成它。这就是那所房子，孤零零地在戴克钢铁公司的十字路口，正象你在这张图上所看到的一样，没有人能听得到声音。白天去是不行的，他经常戒备着，射击得既快又准，而且连问也不问就开槍。可是在夜间——对，他和妻子、三个孩子和一个佣工住在那里。你要干就全干掉，无别的抉择。如果你把一包炸药放在前门，上面用一根慢慢引着的导火线……”

“这个人干了什么事？”

“我不是对你说过他槍杀了吉姆·卡纳威吗？”

“他为什么要槍杀吉姆呢？”

“这和你有什么关系呢？卡纳威夜里走到他房子附近，他就开槍打死了卡纳威。你我就谈到这里。你现在可以去把这事打点一下。”

“还有两个妇女和小孩。连他们也一起干掉吗？”

“也要干掉，不然我们怎样能干掉他呢？”

“他们并没有什么罪过，连他们一起干掉，似乎有些难以下手。”

“这话多么愚蠢？你变卦了吗？”

“慢着，参议员先生，别急！我什么时候说过或做过使你认为我不接受身主命令的事呢？不管是也好，非也好，反正由你来定就是了。”

“那么，你去完成它？”

“当然我去完成它了。”

“什么时候？”

“啊，你最好给我一两个晚上时间，我可以看看这所房子，拟定计划，然后……”

“太好了，"麦金蒂和他握手，说道，“我把这事一交一给你了。你把消息带回来时，我们就要很好庆祝。这正是最后的一着，使他们全都向我们屈膝。”

麦克默多突然接受这样的委托，不由久久地深思。切斯特·威尔科克斯居住的孤零零的房屋，在邻近的山谷里，离这里有五英里左右。就在这天夜晚，麦克默多独自一人去为暗杀活动做准备。他侦察完情况回来时，天色已经大亮。第二天他去看他的两个助手曼德斯和赖利，这是两个卤莽轻率的年轻人，他们兴高采烈，仿佛要去打围逐鹿一样。

两夜以后，他们在镇外相会，三个人都带了武器，其中一人带了一袋采石场用的炸药。他们来到这所孤零零的房前时，已是半夜两点钟。夜里风势迅猛，乱云急驰，半轮明月时隐时现。他们深恐有猎犬出来，十分小心地向前走去，手中的槍机头大张。可是只听疾风怒吼，别无声息，只见树枝摇曳，毫无动静。

麦克默多站在这所孤零零的房屋门外静听了一阵，里面寂静无声，便把炸药包放到门边，用小刀挖了一个小一洞，点燃了导火索，和两个同伙走到远处安全地带，伏一在沟里观看。炸药爆炸的轰鸣声以及房屋倒坍的低沉的隆隆声，说明他们已经完成了任务。在这个社一团一的血腥史上还从来不曾有过这么干净利落的杰作呢。

然而，可惜他们的一精一心策划和大胆执行都白费了！原来切斯特·威尔科克斯听到许多人被害的消息，知道死酷一党一人也要来谋害自己，就在前一天把家搬到比较安全而又无人知晓的地方去了。那里还有一队警察防守。炸药所炸毁的只是一所空房子，而这位刚毅坚强的老海军陆战队上士依然严格地管理戴克钢铁厂的矿工。

“待我来收拾他，"麦克默多说道，“把他一交一给我，即使我等他一年，也一定结果他。”

会里的人都对他表示感激和信任，于是这件事就暂时结束了。

几星期以后，报上报道说，威尔科克斯被人暗杀。而麦克默多在继续完成他未结束的工作，这已经是人所周知的了。

这就是自一由人会所用的一些手法，这就是死酷一党一人的所作所为。他们对这一广袤富庶的地区施行着恐怖的统治，而由于存在着死酷一党一人的恐怖行动，长期以来，人们总是提心吊胆地生活着。为什么用这么多罪恶的事实来玷污这些纸张呢？难道我还没有完全说清这些人和他们的手法吗？

这些人的所作所为已经载入历史，人们可以从记载里看到详细情节。读者可以在那里看到，他们还槍杀警察亨特和伊万斯，因为他们竟斗胆逮捕过两个死酷一党一徒——这两件暴行是维尔米萨分会策划的，并且残忍地杀害了两名孤立无援手无寸铁的人；读者还可以读到，拉贝太太被槍杀，因为首领麦金蒂命人将她丈夫打得半死，她紧抱着丈夫不放；老詹金斯被害，不久他弟弟也惨遭杀害；詹姆斯·默多克被弄得肢一体残废；斯塔普霍斯全家被炸；斯坦德鲁斯被谋杀；惨案一件接一件地发生在这恐怖的寒冬里。

一陰一霾暗无天日地笼罩着恐怖谷。春天来了，溪水潺一潺，草木发芽。长时间受到束缚的大自然恢复了生气；可是生活在恐怖之中的男一女却依然毫无希望。他们头上的一陰一云从未象一八七五年初夏那样黑暗而令人绝望。