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- Джек Лондон
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- Стр. 109/210
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I
shall
not
dwell
upon
the
agony
of
returning
circulation
.
It
was
to
become
an
old
story
with
me
,
and
it
bore
its
share
in
cutting
the
lines
in
my
face
that
I
shall
carry
to
the
scaffold
.
When
they
finally
left
me
I
lay
for
the
rest
of
the
day
stupid
and
half-comatose
.
There
is
such
a
thing
as
anæsthesia
of
pain
,
engendered
by
pain
too
exquisite
to
be
borne
.
And
I
have
known
that
anæsthesia
.
By
evening
I
was
able
to
crawl
about
my
cell
,
but
not
yet
could
I
stand
up
.
I
drank
much
water
,
and
cleansed
myself
as
well
as
I
could
;
but
not
until
next
day
could
I
bring
myself
to
eat
,
and
then
only
by
deliberate
force
of
my
will
.
The
program
me
,
as
given
me
by
Warden
Atherton
,
was
that
I
was
to
rest
up
and
recuperate
for
a
few
days
,
and
then
,
if
in
the
meantime
I
had
not
confessed
to
the
hiding-place
of
the
dynamite
,
I
should
be
given
another
ten
days
in
the
jacket
.
"
Sorry
to
cause
you
so
much
trouble
,
Warden
,
"
I
had
said
in
reply
.
"
It
's
a
pity
I
do
n't
die
in
the
jacket
and
so
put
you
out
of
your
misery
.
"
At
this
time
I
doubt
that
I
weighed
an
ounce
over
ninety
pounds
.
Yet
,
two
years
before
,
when
the
doors
of
San
Quentin
first
closed
on
me
,
I
had
weighed
one
hundred
and
sixty-five
pounds
.
It
seems
incredible
that
there
was
another
ounce
I
could
part
with
and
still
live
.
Yet
in
the
months
that
followed
,
ounce
by
ounce
I
was
reduced
until
I
know
I
must
have
weighed
nearer
eighty
than
ninety
pounds
.
I
do
know
,
after
I
managed
my
escape
from
solitary
and
struck
the
guard
Thurston
on
the
nose
,
that
before
they
took
me
to
San
Rafael
for
trial
,
while
I
was
being
cleaned
and
shaved
I
weighed
eighty-nine
pounds
.
There
are
those
who
wonder
how
men
grow
hard
.
Warden
Atherton
was
a
hard
man
.
He
made
me
hard
,
and
my
very
hardness
reacted
on
him
and
made
him
harder
.
And
yet
he
never
succeeded
in
killing
me
.
It
required
the
state
law
of
California
,
a
hanging
judge
,
and
an
unpardoning
governor
to
send
me
to
the
scaffold
for
striking
a
prison
guard
with
my
fist
.
I
shall
always
contend
that
that
guard
had
a
nose
most
easily
bleedable
.
I
was
a
bat-eyed
,
tottery
skeleton
at
the
time
.
I
sometimes
wonder
if
his
nose
really
did
bleed
.
Of
course
he
swore
it
did
,
on
the
witness
stand
.
But
I
have
known
prison
guards
take
oath
to
worse
perjuries
than
that
.
Ed
Morrell
was
eager
to
know
if
I
had
succeeded
with
the
experiment
;
but
when
he
attempted
to
talk
with
me
he
was
shut
up
by
Smith
,
the
guard
who
happened
to
be
on
duty
in
solitary
.
"
That
's
all
right
,
Ed
,
"
I
rapped
to
him
.
"
You
and
Jake
keep
quiet
,
and
I
'll
tell
you
about
it
.
Smith
ca
n't
prevent
you
from
listening
,
and
he
ca
n't
prevent
me
from
talking
.
They
have
done
their
worst
,
and
I
am
still
here
.
