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- Теодор Драйзер
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- Американская трагедия
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- Стр. 558/598
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Two
days
later
,
the
proper
commitment
papers
having
been
prepared
and
his
mother
notified
of
the
change
but
not
permitted
to
accompany
him
,
Clyde
was
removed
to
Auburn
,
the
Western
penitentiary
of
the
State
of
New
York
,
where
in
the
"
death
house
"
or
"
Murderers
'
Row
,
"
as
it
was
called
--
as
gloomy
and
torturesome
an
inferno
as
one
could
imagine
any
human
compelled
to
endure
--
a
combination
of
some
twenty
-
two
cells
on
two
separate
levels
--
he
was
to
be
restrained
until
ordered
retried
or
executed
.
Yet
as
he
traveled
from
Bridgeburg
to
this
place
,
impressive
crowds
at
every
station
--
young
and
old
--
men
,
women
and
children
--
all
seeking
a
glimpse
of
the
astonishingly
youthly
slayer
.
And
girls
and
women
,
under
the
guise
of
kindly
interest
,
but
which
,
at
best
,
spelled
little
more
than
a
desire
to
achieve
a
facile
intimacy
with
this
daring
and
romantic
,
if
unfortunate
figure
,
throwing
him
a
flower
here
and
there
and
calling
to
him
gayly
and
loudly
as
the
train
moved
out
from
one
station
or
another
:
"
Hello
,
Clyde
!
Hope
to
see
you
soon
again
.
Do
n't
stay
too
long
down
there
.
"
"
If
you
take
an
appeal
,
you
're
sure
to
be
acquitted
.
We
hope
so
,
anyhow
.
"
And
with
Clyde
not
a
little
astonished
and
later
even
heartened
by
this
seemingly
favorable
discrepancy
between
the
attitude
of
the
crowds
in
Bridgeburg
and
this
sudden
,
morbid
,
feverish
and
even
hectic
curiosity
here
,
bowing
and
smiling
and
even
waving
with
his
hand
.
Yet
thinking
,
none
the
less
,
"
I
am
on
the
way
to
the
death
house
and
they
can
be
so
friendly
.
It
is
a
wonder
they
dare
.
"
And
with
Kraut
and
Sissel
,
his
guards
,
because
of
the
distinction
and
notoriety
of
being
both
his
captors
and
jailors
,
as
well
also
because
of
these
unusual
attentions
from
passengers
on
the
train
and
individuals
in
these
throngs
without
being
themselves
flattered
and
ennobled
.
But
after
this
one
brief
colorful
flight
in
the
open
since
his
arrest
,
past
these
waiting
throngs
and
over
winter
sunlit
fields
and
hills
of
snow
that
reminded
him
of
Lycurgus
,
Sondra
,
Roberta
,
and
all
that
he
had
so
kaleidoscopically
and
fatally
known
in
the
twenty
months
just
past
,
the
gray
and
restraining
walls
of
Auburn
itself
--
with
,
once
he
was
presented
to
a
clerk
in
the
warden
's
office
and
his
name
and
crime
entered
in
the
books
--
himself
assigned
to
two
assistants
,
who
saw
to
it
that
he
was
given
a
prison
bath
and
hair
cut
--
all
the
wavy
,
black
hair
he
so
much
admired
cut
away
--
a
prison-striped
uniform
and
hideous
cap
of
the
same
material
,
prison
underwear
and
heavy
gray
felt
shoes
to
quiet
the
restless
prison
tread
in
which
in
time
he
might
indulge
,
together
with
the
number
,
77221
.
And
so
accoutered
,
immediately
transferred
to
the
death
house
proper
,
where
in
a
cell
on
the
ground
floor
he
was
now
locked
--
a
squarish
light
clean
space
,
eight
by
ten
feet
in
size
and
fitted
with
sanitary
plumbing
as
well
as
a
cot
bed
,
a
table
,
a
chair
and
a
small
rack
for
books
.
And
here
then
,
while
he
barely
sensed
that
there
were
other
cells
about
him
--
ranging
up
and
down
a
wide
hall
--
he
first
stood
--
and
then
seated
himself
--
now
no
longer
buoyed
by
the
more
intimate
and
sociable
life
of
the
jail
at
Bridgeburg
--
or
those
strange
throngs
and
scenes
that
had
punctuated
his
trip
here
.
The
hectic
tensity
and
misery
of
these
hours
!
That
sentence
to
die
;
that
trip
with
all
those
people
calling
to
him
;
that
cutting
of
his
hair
downstairs
in
that
prison
barber
shop
--
and
by
a
convict
;
the
suit
and
underwear
that
was
now
his
and
that
he
now
had
on
.
There
was
no
mirror
here
--
or
anywhere
--
but
no
matter
--
he
could
feel
how
he
looked
.
This
baggy
coat
and
trousers
and
this
striped
cap
.
He
threw
it
hopelessly
to
the
floor
.
For
but
an
hour
before
he
had
been
clothed
in
a
decent
suit
and
shirt
and
tie
and
shoes
,
and
his
appearance
had
been
neat
and
pleasing
as
he
himself
had
thought
as
he
left
Bridgeburg
.
But
now
--
how
must
he
look
?
And
to-morrow
his
mother
would
be
coming
--
and
later
Jephson
or
Belknap
,
maybe
.
God
!
But
worse
--
there
,
in
that
cell
directly
opposite
him
,
a
sallow
and
emaciated
and
sinister-looking
Chinaman
in
a
suit
exactly
like
his
own
,
who
had
come
to
the
bars
of
his
door
and
was
looking
at
him
out
of
inscrutable
slant
eyes
,
but
as
immediately
turning
and
scratching
himself
--
vermin
,
maybe
,
as
Clyde
immediately
feared
.
There
had
been
bedbugs
at
Bridgeburg
.
A
Chinese
murderer
.
For
was
not
this
the
death
house
?
But
as
good
as
himself
here
.
And
with
a
garb
like
his
own
.
Thank
God
visitors
were
probably
not
many
.
He
had
heard
from
his
mother
that
scarcely
any
were
allowed
--
that
only
she
and
Belknap
and
Jephson
and
any
minister
he
chose
might
come
once
a
week
.
But
now
these
hard
,
white-painted
walls
brightly
lighted
by
wide
unobstructed
skylights
by
day
and
as
he
could
see
--
by
incandescent
lamps
in
the
hall
without
at
night
--
yet
all
so
different
from
Bridgeburg
--
so
much
more
bright
or
harsh
illuminatively
.
For
there
,
the
jail
being
old
,
the
walls
were
a
gray-brown
,
and
not
very
clean
--
the
cells
larger
,
the
furnishings
more
numerous
--
a
table
with
a
cloth
on
it
at
times
,
books
,
papers
,
a
chess
--
and
checker-board
--
whereas
here
--
here
was
nothing
,
these
hard
narrow
walls
--
the
iron
bars
rising
to
a
heavy
solid
ceiling
above
--
and
that
very
,
very
heavy
iron
door
which
yet
--
like
the
one
at
Bridgeburg
,
had
a
small
hole
through
which
food
would
be
passed
,
of
course
.
