Chapter 57 Chapter 56

Magwitch was very ill in prison.He has been ill throughout the period between his detention and his trial.Because he had two broken ribs and one lobe of lung was injured, even breathing was difficult and painful, and his condition was getting worse and worse.Because of his illness, he spoke in a low voice, and he couldn’t even hear clearly, so he simply seldom spoke, but he especially liked listening to me, so my first task was to tell and read to him, whatever I thought he should I will tell and read to him if he listens. As he was too ill to live in a common cell, he was moved to a prison ward after a day or two.This gave me a chance to be by his side, which I couldn't be otherwise.If it weren't for his serious illness, he would have to be handcuffed and fettered. Everyone thinks he is a desperate jailbreaker, and there are many bad things I don't know.

Although I see him every day, after all, the time we meet is relatively short, and the time we are apart is relatively long.In retrospect, no matter what changes occurred in his mental state at that time, even the slightest change could be reflected in his face.I can't really remember a time when he got any better.After the prison doors were locked on him again, he grew thinner, weaker, and sicker. His character has become very docile, and he is resigned to his future, and he is tired of everything.Sometimes, from his behavior and attitude, or from a sentence or two that he suddenly blurted out, I can get an impression, as if he is thinking about a question, if he is in a good environment, whether he can become What a nice guy.However, he did not express this view of his, nor did he express any remorse and surrender to the past that had been cast into fact.

Occasionally, two or three times when I was in the prison, one or two of the prisoners assigned to his care suggested that he was a notoriously risk-taking man.A smile played on his lips at the cue, and he turned his eyes to look at me with trusting air, as if he believed that I had seen these little features in him long ago, when I was a child.At other times he was so humble and contrite, but I never saw him complain. As the court date approached, Mr. Jaggers filed an application to adjourn his case until the next court session.Quite obviously, since Magwitch must have had a short time to live, but the court denied his application.The trial proceeded immediately, and Magwitch was brought into court and sat in a chair.The court allowed me to sit near the dock, separated by a fence.I held his hand that came over the fence.

The trial was very brief and the issues were very clear.All that can be said for him has been said, for example, he has developed the habit of hard work, and his hard work is in line with the law and worthy of respect.In any case, the fact remains that he has absconded from exile and is now sitting before a judge and jury.If it is said that he cannot be convicted, it is of course impossible to say that he is not guilty. In that era, the court retained a practice (I only learned this through my thrilling personal experience because I attended the court this time), leaving the last day for the death sentence to be pronounced during the court session.This can have the best effect.As soon as I think of this incident, an unforgettable picture appears in my mind.Otherwise, even as I write this, I find it hard to believe that thirty-two men and women were brought before a judge to be sentenced to death.The first of the thirty-two was Magwitch, who sat there in order that he might be put to death alive.

The whole scene was now vividly reappearing before my eyes.The windows of the courtroom were shining with April sunshine, and April rain was beating on them at the same time.I was standing next to the dock, just across the fence, and at one corner I grabbed his hand that was coming through the fence.Standing in the bars were thirty-two prisoners, men and women, some in contempt of court, some in terror, some weeping, some wailing, some covering their faces, and some looking around sullenly in a daze.There were screams among the female prisoners, and when the court asked them to be silent, they fell silent, and there was no sound at all.The judges wore watch chains and bouquets of flowers, and the other lords of the courtroom, the bailiffs, the courtiers, and all who came to hear the case, stared at the confrontation like spectators in a crowded theater. The judge and the thirty-two prisoners in the room had serious faces.Then the justice began to address the prisoners.He said that among the poor convicts who stood before him, one in particular deserved to be mentioned here, because he had misbehaved and violated the law since he was a boy, and had been repeatedly arrested and punished, and repeatedly refused to change, He was finally sentenced to long-term imprisonment.However, he still did not change his nature, acted recklessly, carried out violent methods, and escaped from prison, so his sentence was commuted to life-long exile.This unfortunate man left the place where he committed the crime. During his exile, he once realized his mistakes, lived a peaceful life, and was faithful and reliable to others. Follow the old road of harm to society, leave the place where he repented as a man for life, and sneak back to the motherland without authorization.It should be noted that he cannot return to his country after being exiled for life. The motherland is not his legal protection, and he will be charged as soon as he returns to the motherland.For a period of time, he evaded the investigation of the government, and finally the incident happened while he was trying to flee abroad.He resisted the arrest warrant issued by the government, and caused the informer who knew him well to die while assisting in the pursuit. Whether it was because of his plot to murder or manslaughter in his rough busyness, only he himself knew best.According to the law, anyone who is exiled for life and returns to the country privately is sentenced to death, and if this person commits a crime that meets this article, he must be punished with an additional crime, and he will undoubtedly be sentenced to death.

Although the large glass windows of the courtroom were covered with raindrops, the sun shone in through the dripping windows.A great expanse of sunlight was shining across the space between the thirty-two prisoners and the Chancellor, and the light which connected the two parties might remind some in the audience of the new The Judgment of God, which is absolutely equal, omnipotent, infallible, will be judged by the greatest judge (God).The prisoner whom the Chancellor referred to stood up now, with a face clearly marked in the bright sunlight, and said: "The Lord of Heaven has condemned me to death, my lord, I respectfully accept your sentence now." After finishing speaking, he sat down again.At this time, the court asked everyone to be silent, and the justice began to speak to the rest of the prisoners.Next, the prisoner is formally sentenced.After the sentence was pronounced, some prisoners were helped to go out; some were haggard, but pretended to be brave, and strode out indifferently; a few nodded to the auditorium; They shook hands to say goodbye; some picked up a few scattered vanilla leaves on the ground and chewed them in their mouths when they walked out.And he was the last one to go out, because he had to be lifted from the chair, walking slowly.After all the prisoners had gone out, he held my hand.At this moment the audience in the gallery stood up (arranging their coats and hats, as they do at the end of a church service or whatever), and pointed at this or that sinner.I think it's mostly pointing at him and me.

I sincerely hoped and secretly prayed that it would be best for him to die quietly before the court records were published, but fearing that his life would be prolonged, I decided to write to the Home Secretary that night to ask for his forgiveness, State everything he knows, especially stating that he is returning to China for me.I expressed eagerness and sadness in the letter, tried my best to express my feelings, and submitted it after writing.In addition, I wrote a few more letters to authorities and authorities. I think these people have a compassionate heart of a bodhisattva.In addition, I wrote a letter directly to His Majesty the King.After his sentencing, I could not rest for several days and nights. I was troubled by these petition letters every day, and sometimes I was so tired that I fell asleep in the chair.Since the delivery of those appealing letters, I have often been in the places where they were dropped, thinking to myself that if only I would walk about these places often, there would be great hope and no danger.Whenever I wandered these streets at dusk, I always went to every government office or mansion where letters of appeal were delivered, wandering around, but with inexplicable anxiety and pain in my heart.To this day, on a spring evening, when the dust is in the air, I pass the West End of London with a bout of boredom, and look at the rows of high, imposing mansions with closed gates. , and the rows of bright street lamps outside, recalling the old scene, suddenly a cloud of sadness will come to mind.

I visit the prison every day, but the time of visits is shortened day by day, and the management of him in the cell is getting stricter and stricter.I could see, maybe it was just my fancy, that I had aroused suspicions that I might bring in some poison that would kill him, so I asked them every time I went to check before I sat by his side.I told the guard who was always there that I would be willing to serve him as long as he believed that I was only here to visit the prison and had no other purpose.Nobody bothered him, nor me.They are just loyal to their duties and not rude to others.The guards told me almost every time that his health was getting worse, the other sick prisoners living in the same fourth room, and the prisoners sent to take care of the sick prisoners (although they are all heinous people, oh, thank the Lord in heaven , but they also have a loving heart), and they all told me the same message, his health was getting worse.

As time passed, I could see more and more clearly that he was always lying on the bed peacefully, his eyes staring straight at the white ceiling, and his face was covered with a blank expression.My words sometimes caused a flash of color in his face, but only for a moment, and then it darkened again.Sometimes he can barely speak or can't speak at all, and can only answer with a light touch on my hand, and slowly I understand the meaning of his touch. When the time came to the tenth day, I saw a great change in him, such as I had never seen before.His eyes were fixed on the door when I entered the country room, and his face became lively when he saw me.

"My dear boy," he said, while I was sitting by his bed, "I thought you were late to-day. But I know you won't be late." "I came just in time," I answered, "I was waiting at the gate for a while." "You always have to wait at the gate, my dear boy, don't you?" "Yes. I'm going to seize every minute." "Thank you, dear boy, thank you. God bless you! My dear boy, you will not abandon me." I put my hand on his without a word, because I still have a fresh memory in my heart, I did think about abandoning him.

"The most beautiful thing," he said to me, "is that you have been by my side, comforting me, ever since the dark clouds swam over me, and have been more devoted to me than when the red sun was shining high above me. That's the most beautiful thing." He lay on his back on the bed, every breath was very difficult.Although he loved me very much and tried his best to support his sick body, the brilliance on his face always faded from time to time, and a thin shadow had appeared on his peaceful face staring at the white ceiling. "Are you in pain today?" "My dear child, I am not in pain." "You don't complain and complain." He finished his last words, smiled, and touched me with his hand.I understood what he meant and asked me to raise my hand to his chest.I put my hand on his chest and he smiled again and put his hands on mine. At this time, the stipulated time for visiting the prison was up, I turned around and saw the warden standing very close to me.He whispered to me, "You don't go yet." I thanked him for his kindness and asked, "If he can listen to me, can I have a word with him?" The warden walked away, and beckoned the warden to leave too.These changes took place silently, but the thin shadows on his serene face gazing at the white ceiling disappeared suddenly, and looked at me tenderly. "Dear Magwitch, now I have something to ask you. Can you understand me?" He pressed lightly on my hand. "You had a child, you loved her, and you lost her." He pressed a little harder on my hand. "She is still alive, and is among the powerful. She is still alive, very beautiful, and a lady. I love her very much." With a last feeble effort he tried to bring my hand to his lips, but he had no more strength.I saw this and followed him to put my hand to his lips, and then he let my hand slide slightly to his chest again and put his hands on top of mine.Then his peaceful gaze on the white ceiling dimmed and faded, and his head sank silently on his breast. At this time, I remembered the books I had read to him, and I thought of the story in the Bible that two people went to the temple to pray.I knew I couldn't have said anything better than standing at his bedside but, "Oh Lord, have mercy on him a sinner!"