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whole journey； and was on his way to Mr Bounderby’s country…
house after dark； when he fell。 He was crossing that dangerous
country at such a dangerous time； because he was innocent of
what was laid to his charge； and couldn’t rest from coming the
nearest way to deliver himself up。 The Old Hell Shaft； the pitman
said； with a curse upon it； was worthy of its bad name to the last；
for though Stephen could speak now； he believed it would soon be
found to have mangled the life out of him。
When all was ready； this man； still taking his last hurried
charges from his comrades and the surgeon after the windlass had
begun to lower him； disappeared into the pit。 The rope went out as
before； the signal was made as before； and the windlass stopped。
No man removed his hand from it now。 Every one waited with his
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Hard Times 342
grasp set； and his body bent down to the work； ready to reverse
and wind in。 At length the signal was given； and all the ring leaned
forward。
For； now； the rope came in； tightened and strained to its utmost
as it appeared； and the men turned heavily； and the windlass
complained。 It was scarcely endurable to look at the rope； and
think of its giving way。 But； ring after ring was coiled upon the
barrel of the windlass safely； and the connecting chains appeared；
and finally the bucket with the two men holding on at the sides—a
sight to make the head swim； and oppress the head—and tenderly
supporting between them； slung and tied within； the figure of a
poor； crushed； human creature。
A low murmur of pity went round the throng； and the women
wept aloud； as this form； almost without form； was moved very
slowly from its iron deliverance； and laid upon the bed of straw。 At
first； none but the surgeon went close to it。 He did what he could
in its adjustment on the couch； but the best he could do was to
cover it。 That gently done； he called to him Rachael and Sissy。 And
at that time the pale； worn； patient face was seen looking up at the
sky； with the broken right hand lying bare on the outside of the
covering garments； as if waiting to be taken by another hand。
They gave him drink； moistened his face with water； and
administered some drops of cordial and wine。 Though he lay quite
motionless looking up at the sky； he smiled and said； “Rachael。”
She stooped down on the grass at his side； and bent over him
until her eyes were between his and the sky； for he could not so
much as turn them to look at her。
“Rachael； my dear。”
She took hand。 He smiled again and said； “Don’t let ’t go。”
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“Thou’rt in great pain； my own dear Stephen？”
“I ha’ been； but not now。 I ha’ been—dreadful； and dree； and
long； my dear—but ’tis ower now。 Ah； Rachael； aw a muddle！ Fro’
first to last； a muddle！”
The spectre of his old look seemed to pass as he said the word。
“I ha’ fell into th’ pit； my dear； as have cost wi’in the knowledge
o’ old fok now livin； hundreds and hundreds o’ men’s lives—
fathers； sons； brothers； dear to thousands an thousands； an keepin’
’em fro’ want and hunger。 I ha’ fell into a pit that ha’ been wi’ th’
Fire…damp crueller than battle。 I ha’ read on ’t in the public
petition； as onny one may read； fro’ the men that works in pits； on
which they ha’ pray’n an pray’n the lawmakers for Christ’s sake
not to let their work be murder to ’em； but to spare ’em for th’
wives and children that they loves as well as gentlefok loves theirs。
When it were in work； it killed wi’out need； when ’tis let alone； it
kills wi’out need。 See how we die an no need； one way an
another—in a muddle—every day！”
He faintly said it； without any anger against any one。 Merely as
the truth。
“Thy little sister； Rachael； thou hast not forgot her。 Thou’rt not
like to forget her now； and me so nigh her。 Thou know’st—poor；
patient； suff’rin； dear—how thou didst work for her； seet’n all day
long in her little chair at thy winder； and how she died； young and
misshapen； awlung o’ sickly air as had’n no need to be； an awlung
o’ working people’s miserable homes。 A muddle！ Aw a muddle！”
Louisa approached him； but he could not see her； lying with his
face turned up to the night sky。
“If aw th’ things that tooches us； my dear； was not so muddled； I
should’n ha’ had’n need to coom heer。 If we was not in a muddle
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among ourseln； I should’n ha’ been； by my own fellow weavers and
workin’ brothers； so mistook。 If Mr Bounderby had ever know’d
me right—if he’d ever know’d me at aw—he would’n ha’ took’n
offence wi’ me。 He wouldn’t ha’ suspect’n me。 But look up yonder；
Rachael！ Look aboove！” following his eyes； she saw that he was
gazing at a star。
“It ha’ shined upon me；” he said reverently； “in my pain and
trouble down below。 It ha’ shined into my mind。 I ha’ look’n at ’t
an thowt o’ thee； Rachael； till the muddle in my mind have cleared
awa； above a bit； I hope。 If soom ha’ been wantin’ in unnerstan’in
me better； I； too； ha’ been wantin’ in unnerstan’in them better。
When I got thy letter； I easily believen that what the yoong ledy
sen and done to me； an what her brother sen and done to me； was
one； and that there were a wicket plot betwixt ’em。 When I fell； I
were in anger wi’ her； and hurryin on t’ be as unjust t’ her as
oothers was t’ me。 But in our judgments； like as in our doins； we
mun bear and forbear。 In my pain and trouble； lookin’ up
yonder；—wi’ it shinin’ on me—I ha seen more clear； and ha’ made
it my dyin’ prayer that aw th’ world may on’y coom toogether
more and get a better unnerstan’in’ o’ one