- description
- # VII.
## Overview
This section, labeled "VII.", is a part of the larger work "BOOK XXVI. A WALK: A FOREIGN PORTRAIT: A SAIL: AND THE END." and was extracted from the file "pierre.txt". It details a dramatic scene within a prison setting.
## Context
This section is situated within the "Melville Complete Works" collection. It follows section "VI." and precedes the end of the chapter. The narrative unfolds in a prison, where characters Fred Tartan and Millthorpe arrive searching for a young lady connected to a prisoner. They encounter a turnkey and an officer, leading to a tense confrontation within a cell.
## Contents
The text describes the arrival of Fred Tartan and Millthorpe at a prison, seeking a young woman. They are directed to a cell where they find the woman, Lucy, along with Pierre and Isabel. The scene culminates in the discovery of death, with Pierre and Lucy confirmed deceased, and Isabel succumbing after revealing a vial. The section concludes with the word "FINIS.", marking the end of the narrative.
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- description_title
- VII.
- end_line
- 16133
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- 2026-01-30T20:48:07.474Z
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- 16038
- text
- VII.
At night the squat-framed, asthmatic turnkey tramped the dim-lit iron
gallery before one of the long honey-combed rows of cells.
"Mighty still there, in that hole, them two mice I let in;--humph!"
Suddenly, at the further end of the gallery, he discerned a shadowy
figure emerging from the archway there, and running on before an
officer, and impetuously approaching where the turnkey stood.
"More relations coming. These wind-broken chaps are always in before the
second death, seeing they always miss the first.--Humph! What a froth
the fellow's in?--Wheezes worse than me!"
"Where is she?" cried Fred Tartan, fiercely, to him; "she's not at the
murderer's rooms! I sought the sweet girl there, instant upon the blow;
but the lone dumb thing I found there only wrung her speechless hands
and pointed to the door;--both birds were flown! Where is she, turnkey?
I've searched all lengths and breadths but this. Hath any angel swept
adown and lighted in your granite hell?"
"Broken his wind, and broken loose, too, aint he?" wheezed the turnkey
to the officer who now came up.
"This gentleman seeks a young lady, his sister, someway innocently
connected with the prisoner last brought in. Have any females been here
to see him?"
"Oh, ay,--two of 'em in there now;" jerking his stumped thumb behind
him.
Fred darted toward the designated cell.
"Oh, easy, easy, young gentleman"--jingling at his huge bunch of
keys--"easy, easy, till I get the picks--I'm housewife here.--Hallo,
here comes another."
Hurrying through the same archway toward them, there now rapidly
advanced a second impetuous figure, running on in advance of a second
officer.
"Where is the cell?" demanded Millthorpe.
"He seeks an interview with the last prisoner," explained the second
officer.
"Kill 'em both with one stone, then," wheezed the turnkey, gratingly
throwing open the door of the cell. "There's his pretty parlor,
gentlemen; step in. Reg'lar mouse-hole, arn't it?--Might hear a rabbit
burrow on the world's t'other side;--are they all 'sleep?"
"I stumble!" cried Fred, from within; "Lucy! A light! a light!--Lucy!"
And he wildly groped about the cell, and blindly caught Millthorpe, who
was also wildly groping.
"Blister me not! take off thy bloody touch!--Ho, ho, the light!--Lucy!
Lucy!--she's fainted!"
Then both stumbled again, and fell from each other in the cell: and for
a moment all seemed still, as though all breaths were held.
As the light was now thrust in, Fred was seen on the floor holding his
sister in his arms; and Millthorpe kneeling by the side of Pierre, the
unresponsive hand in his; while Isabel, feebly moving, reclined between,
against the wall.
"Yes! Yes!--Dead! Dead! Dead!--without one visible wound--her sweet
plumage hides it.--Thou hellish carrion, this is thy hellish work! Thy
juggler's rifle brought down this heavenly bird! Oh, my God, my God!
Thou scalpest me with this sight!"
"The dark vein's burst, and here's the deluge-wreck--all stranded here!
Ah, Pierre! my old companion,
Pierre;--school-mate--play-mate--friend!--Our sweet boy's walks within
the woods!--Oh, I would have rallied thee, and banteringly warned thee
from thy too moody ways, but thou wouldst never heed! What scornful
innocence rests on thy lips, my friend!--Hand scorched with murderer's
powder, yet how woman-soft!--By heaven, these fingers move!--one
speechless clasp!--all's o'er!"
"All's o'er, and ye know him not!" came gasping from the wall; and from
the fingers of Isabel dropped an empty vial--as it had been a run-out
sand-glass--and shivered upon the floor; and her whole form sloped
sideways, and she fell upon Pierre's heart, and her long hair ran over
him, and arbored him in ebon vines.
FINIS.
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- VII.