THE felicitous idea occurred to me a morning or two later when I woke, that the best step I could take towards making myself uncommon was to get out of Biddy everything she knew. In pursuance of this luminous conception I mentioned to Biddy when I went to Mr Wopsle's great-aunt's at night, that I had a particular reason for wishing to get on in life, and that I should feel very much obliged to her if she would impart all her learning to me. Biddy, who was the most obliging of girls, immediately said she would, and indeed began to carry out her promise within five minutes.
The Educational scheme or Course established by Mr Wopsle's great-aunt may be resolved into the following synopsis. The pupils ate apples and put straws down one another's backs, until Mr Wopsle's great-aunt collected her energies, and made an indiscriminate totter at them with a birch-rod. After receiving the charge with every mark of derision, the pupils formed in line and buzzingly passed a ragged book from hand to hand. The book had an alphabet in it, some figures and tables, and a little spelling - that is to say, it had had once. As soon as this volume began to circulate, Mr Wopsle's great-aunt fell into a state of coma; arising either from sleep or a rheumatic paroxysm. The pupils then entered among themselves upon a competitive examination on the subject of Boots, with the view of ascertaining who could tread the hardest upon whose toes. This mental exercise lasted until Biddy made a rush at them and distributed three defaced Bibles (shaped as if they had been unskilfully cut off the chump-end of something), more illegibly printed at the best than any curiosities of literature I have since met with, speckled all over with ironmould, and having various specimens of the insect world smashed between their leaves. This part of the Course was usually lightened by several single combats between Biddy and refractory students. When the fights were over, Biddy gave out the number of a page, and then we all read aloud what we could - or what we couldn't - in a frightful chorus; Biddy leading with a high shrill monotonous voice, and none of us having the least notion of, or reverence for, what we were reading about. When this horrible din had lasted a certain time, it mechanically awoke Mr Wopsle's great-aunt, who staggered at a boy fortuitously, and pulled his ears. This was understood to terminate the Course for the evening, and we emerged into the air with shrieks of intellectual victory. It is fair to remark that there was no prohibition against any pupil's entertaining himself with a slate or even with the ink (when there was any), but that it was not easy to pursue that branch of study in the winter season, on account of the little general shop in which the classes were holden - and which was also Mr Wopsle's great-aunt's sitting-room and bed-chamber - being but faintly illuminated through the agency of one low-spirited dip-candle and no snuffers.
It appeared to me that it would take time, to become uncommon under these circumstances: nevertheless, I resolved to try it, and that very evening Biddy entered on our special agreement, by imparting some information from her little catalogue of Prices, under the head of moist sugar, and lending me, to copy at home, a large old English D which she had imitated from the heading of some newspaper, and which I supposed, until she told me what it was, to be a design for a buckle.
Of course there was a public-house in the village, and of course Joe liked sometimes to smoke his pipe there. I had received strict orders from my sister to call for him at the Three Jolly Bargemen, that evening, on my way from school, and bring him home at my peril. To the Three Jolly Bargemen, therefore, I directed my steps.
There was a bar at the Jolly Bargemen, with some alarmingly long chalk scores in it on the wall at the side of the door, which seemed to me to be never paid off. They had been there ever since I could remember, and had grown more than I had. But there was a quantity of chalk about our country, and perhaps the people neglected no opportunity of turning it to account.
It being Saturday night, I found the landlord looking rather grimly at these records, but as my business was with Joe and not with him, I merely wished him good evening, and passed into the common room at the end of the passage, where there was a bright large kitchen fire, and where Joe was smoking his pipe in company with Mr Wopsle and a stranger. Joe greeted me as usual with `Halloa, Pip, old chap!' and the moment he said that, the stranger turned his head and looked at me.
He was a secret-looking man whom I had never seen before. His head was all on one side, and one of his eyes was half shut up, as if he were taking aim at something with an invisible gun. He had a pipe in his mouth, and he took it out, and, after slowly blowing all his smoke away and looking hard at me all the time, nodded. So, I nodded, and then he nodded again, and made room on the settle beside him that I might sit down there.
But, as I was used to sit beside Joe whenever I entered that place of resort, I said `No, thank you, sir,' and fell into the space Joe made for me on the opposite settle. The strange man, after glancing at Joe, and seeing that his attention was otherwise engaged, nodded to me again when I had taken my seat, and then rubbed his leg - in a very odd way, as it struck me.
`You was saying,' said the strange man, turning to Joe, `that you was a blacksmith.'
`Yes. I said it, you know,' said Joe.
`What'll you drink, Mr - ? You didn't mention your name, by-the-bye.'
Joe mentioned it now, and the strange man called him by it. `What'll you drink, Mr Gargery? At my expense? To top up with?'
`Well,' said Joe, `to tell you the truth, I ain't much in the habit of drinking at anybody's expense but my own.'
`Habit? No,' returned the stranger, `but once and away, and on a Saturday night too. Come! Put a name to it, Mr Gargery.'
`I wouldn't wish to be stiff company,' said Joe. `Rum.'
`Rum,' repeated the stranger. `And will the other gentleman originate a sentiment.'
`Rum,' said Mr Wopsle.
`Three Rums!' cried the stranger, calling to the landlord. `Glasses round!'
`This other gentleman,' observed Joe, by way of introducing Mr Wopsle, `is a gentleman that you would like to hear give it out. Our clerk at church.'
`Aha!' said the stranger, quickly, and cocking his eye at me. `The lonely church, right out on the marshes, with graves round it!'
`That's it,' said Joe.
The stranger, with a comfortable kind of grunt over his pipe, put his legs up on the settle that he had to himself. He wore a flapping broad-brimmed traveller's hat, and under it a handkerchief tied over his head in the manner of a cap: so that he showed no hair. As he looked at the fire, I thought I saw a cunning expression, followed by a half-laugh, come into his face.
`I am not acquainted with this country, gentlemen, but it seems a solitary country towards the river.'
`Most marshes is solitary,' said Joe.
`No doubt, no doubt. Do you find any gipsies, now, or tramps, or vagrants of any sort, out there?'
`No,' said Joe; `none but a runaway convict now and then. And we don't find them, easy. Eh, Mr Wopsle?'
Mr Wopsle, with a majestic remembrance of old discomfiture, assented; but not warmly.
`Seems you have been out after such?' asked the stranger.
`Once,' returned Joe. `Not that we wanted to take them, you understand; we went out as lookers on; me, and Mr Wopsle, and Pip. Didn't us, Pip?'
`Yes, Joe.'
The stranger looked at me again - still cocking his eye, as if he were expressly taking aim at me with his invisible gun - and said, `He's a likely young parcel of bones that. What is it you call him?'
`Pip,' said Joe.
`Christened Pip?'
`No, not christened Pip.'
`Surname Pip?'
`No,' said Joe, `it's a kind of family name what he gave himself when a infant, and is called by.'
`Son of yours?'
`Well,' said Joe, meditatively - not, of course, that it could be in anywise necessary to consider about it, but because it was the way at the Jolly Bargemen to seem to consider deeply about everything that was discussed over pipes; `well - no. No, he ain't.'
`Nevvy?' said the strange man.
`Well,' said Joe, with the same appearance of profound cogitation, `he is not - no, not to deceive you, he is not - my nevvy.'
`What the Blue Blazes is he?' asked the stranger. Which appeared to me to be an inquiry of unnecessary strength.
Mr. Wopsle struck in upon that; as one who knew all about relationships, having professional occasion to bear in mind what female relations a man might not marry; and expounded the ties between me and Joe. Having his hand in, Mr Wopsle finished off with a most terrifically snarling passage from Richard the Third, and seemed to think he had done quite enough to account for it when he added, - `as the poet says.'
And here I may remark that when Mr Wopsle referred to me, he considered it a necessary part of such reference to rumple my hair and poke it into my eyes. I cannot conceive why everybody of his standing who visited at our house should always have put me through the same inflammatory process under similar circumstances. Yet I do not call to mind that I was ever in my earlier youth the subject of remark in our social family circle, but some large-handed person took some such ophthalmic steps to patronize me.
All this while, the strange man looked at nobody but me, and looked at me as if he were determined to have a shot at me at last, and bring me down. But he said nothing after offering his Blue Blazes observation, until the glasses of rum-and-water were brought; and then he made his shot, and a most extraordinary shot it was.
It was not a verbal remark, but a proceeding in dump show, and was pointedly addressed to me. He stirred his rum-and-water pointedly at me, and he tasted his rum-and-water pointedly at me. And he stirred it and he tasted it: not with a spoon that was brought to him, but with a file.
He did this so that nobody but I saw the file; and when he had done it he wiped the file and put it in a breast-pocket. I knew it to be Joe's file, and I knew that he knew my convict, the moment I saw the instrument. I sat gazing at him, spell-bound. But he now reclined on his settle, taking very little notice of me, and talking principally about turnips.
There was a delicious sense of cleaning-up and making a quiet pause before going on in life afresh, in our village on Saturday nights, which stimulated Joe to dare to stay out half an hour longer on Saturdays than at other times. The half hour and the rum-and-water running out together, Joe got up to go, and took me by the hand.
`Stop half a moment, Mr Gargery,' said the strange man. `I think I've got a bright new shilling somewhere in my pocket, and if I have, the boy shall have it.'
He looked it out from a handful of small change, folded it in some crumpled paper, and gave it to me. `Yours!' said he. `Mind!Your own.'
I thanked him, staring at him far beyond the bounds of good manners, and holding tight to Joe. He gave Joe good-night, and he gave Mr Wopsle good-night (who went out with us), and he gave me only a look with his aiming eye - no, not a look, for he shut it up, but wonders may be done with an eye by hiding it.
On the way home, if I had been in a humour for talking, the talk must have been all on my side, for Mr Wopsle parted from us at the door of the Jolly Bargemen, and Joe went all the way home with his mouth wide open, to rinse the rum out with as much air as possible. But I was in a manner stupefied by this turning up of my old misdeed and old acquaintance, and could think of nothing else.
My sister was not in a very bad temper when we presented ourselves in the kitchen, and Joe was encouraged by that unusual circumstance to tell her about the bright shilling. `A bad un, I'll be bound,' said Mrs Joe triumphantly, `or he wouldn't have given it to the boy! Let's look at it.'
I took it out of the paper, and it proved to be a good one. `But what's this?' said Mrs Joe, throwing down the shilling and catching up the paper. `Two One-Pound notes?'
Nothing less than two fat sweltering one-pound notes that seemed to have been on terms of the warmest intimacy with all the cattle markets in the county. Joe caught up his hat again, and ran with them to the Jolly Bargemen to restore them to their owner. While he was gone, I sat down on my usual stool and looked vacantly at my sister, feeling pretty sure that the man would not be there.
Presently, Joe came back, saying that the man was gone, but that he, Joe, had left word at the Three Jolly Bargemen concerning the notes. Then my sister sealed them up in a piece of paper, and put them under some dried rose-leaves in an ornamental tea-pot on the top of a press in the state parlour. There they remained, a nightmare to me, many and many a night and day.
I had sadly broken sleep when I got to bed, through thinking of the strange man taking aim at me with his invisible gun, and of the guiltily coarse and common thing it was, to be on secret terms of conspiracy with convicts - a feature in my low career that I had previously forgotten. I was haunted by the file too. A dread possessed me that when I least expected it, the file would reappear. I coaxed myself to sleep by thinking of Miss Havisham's, next Wednesday; and in my sleep I saw the file coming at me out of a door, without seeing who held it, and I screamed myself awake.
一两天后的一个早晨，我醒来时突然想到一个非常好的主意。我要使自己走向不平凡，最为上策的办法是去找毕蒂，学会她所知道的一切东西为自己所用。为了实现这一光辉的计划，当晚我就去到沃甫赛的姑婆所办的夜校，对毕蒂说，我有特殊的理由希望取得成功，只要她答应把所知道的全都教给我，我对她一定是非常感谢的。毕蒂是一位最厚道的姑娘，说到做到，而且在五分钟之内便开始实行她的诺言了。
由沃甫赛先生的姑婆所制订的教育计划，或者称为教育课程，可以归纳成下面的梗概：学生们先吃苹果，也可以把草塞到别人的背上，一直玩到沃甫赛先生的姑婆养足了精神，才在手中持一根桦树枝教鞭，迈着清一色的碎步向学生走来。学生们一见她来，先是装出各种各样嘲讽的鬼脸，然后便排成一队，嘁嘁喳喳地把一本破烂的书从一个人的手中传到另一个人的手中。这本书里有一张字母表、几张图画和什么表格，还有一些拼写练习。不过要补充一句，这些只是曾经有过的东西。这本书传了下去，沃甫赛先生的姑婆也随之进入了昏迷状态。这可能是由于想睡觉而引起，要么就是由于风湿病发作而引起的。这时，孩子们便开始了以靴子为主题的竞争，看谁的靴子踩别人的脚趾最疼。这一个所谓心智测验一直持续到毕蒂匆匆跑来才结束。她来分发三本残缺不全的《圣经》。这三本书的样子很吓人，就像是从木墩子上乱砍下来的，字迹印得难以辨认，比我见到过的任何文学精品都要模糊不清，上面全是斑斑点点的墨水渍，而且里面夹着各种各样的昆虫标本，都被压得扁扁的。接着，有几个难以管理的倔强学生和毕蒂发生了争斗，给课堂增添了活跃气氛。战斗一结束，毕蒂便布置读哪一页，然后我们就提高嗓门读起来。我们会读的当然在读，不会读的也在读，高高低低变成了一个又难听又吓人的大合唱。毕蒂领读的声音又高又尖又单调。我们谁都不知道自己在读什么，也对所读的东西毫不重视。这种令人讨厌的乱读持续了一会儿，在无意识中把沃甫赛先生的姑婆吵醒了。她摇摇摆摆地随便走到一个孩子的面前，把他的耳朵揪了一把。一揪耳朵就使大家明白，今天的学习结束了。于是我们便尖起嗓子高呼知识的胜利，然后冲到门外。不过，也得公平地说一句，如果有学生要努力学习是不会被禁止的。你可以用你的石板或钢笔学习，只要你有就行。不过在冬季里要想如此学习是很不容易的，因为在这间既要排上课桌椅当教室，又要作沃甫赛先生姑婆的起居室和卧室的小小店铺之中，只点着一根黯然神伤的蜡烛，又没有剪烛火的剪刀，光线极其微弱。
对我来说，在如此的条件下要想变得不平凡，是很花费时间的。不过，我决定还是试一下。就在当天晚上，毕蒂就开始着手履行我们的特殊协定。她先把她那小小的价格目录中绵糖一栏中的有关信息知识教给我，又借给我一个古体英语的大写“口’字，要我回家去描下来。那是她从一张报纸标题上临摹下来的，起初，我还以为是个钮扣的图案，她告诉我以后，我才知道它是什么。
自然，在我们村子里也有一家酒店，乔自然有时也喜欢到那里去抽他的烟斗。这天我放学后，在回家的路上接到我姐姐的严厉命令，要我到三个快乐船夫酒店去把乔叫回来，否则我就要对自己的行为负责。所以，我迈开双腿，直向三个快乐船夫酒店奔去。
在三个快乐船夫酒店里有一张吧台，靠门一边的那堵墙上用白垩写了一大串欠账的名单。在我看来，这些欠账似乎永远还不清。我记得从我懂事起，这些账目就写在上面了，而且不断长长，比我的个头长得还快。我们乡下白垩多得很，所以人们不会舍弃利用白垩的机会，把它都变成了写在墙上的欠账。
那是一个星期六的晚上，我看到酒店的老板用冷酷的眼光注视着那些欠账记录。既然我的任务是来找乔，和他没有关系，所以我只是说了一声祝他晚上好的话，便一直去到过道头上的那间酒厅。酒厅里面生着一大炉火，火光明亮。乔正在那里吸着烟斗，旁边是沃甫赛先生，还有一个不认识的人。乔像通常一样对我说：“你好，皮普，我的老弟！”正在他说话时，那位陌生人转过头来望着我。
这个人的脸上带着神秘的神色，过去我从来没有见过他。他的头向一边倾斜着，一只眼睛半睁半闭着，好像正在瞄准一枝无形的枪。他嘴里叼着一根烟斗，见到我，便把烟斗取出来，慢慢地把嘴里的烟雾吐出，然后紧紧地盯住我，向我点点头。我也向他点点头，接着他又向我点头，并且从他坐着的长靠背椅上让出点空间来给我坐。
但是，无论什么时候来到这种场合，我总是喜欢坐在乔的旁边，所以我对他说：“先生，不用了，谢谢。”于是我便坐在乔让给我的空处，在那长靠背椅的对面。这位我不认识的人注视了一下乔，发现乔的注意力被别处吸引着，于是在我坐好了后又对我点点头，然后便揉他的眼睛。那种揉眼的怪样子使我感到新奇。
“你刚才说，”这位陌生人转向乔说道，“你是一个铁匠？”
“不错，我说过我是铁匠。”乔说道。
“你想喝些什么，——先生？真抱歉，我不知道怎么称呼你。”
乔便告诉了他自己的姓名，陌生人便直呼其名地叫他。
“你想喝些什么，葛奇里先生？就让我来请客吧。让我们今日以酒来结束晚餐。”
乔答道：“多谢了，说老实话，我非常不习惯饮酒由别人付钱。我总是自己付酒钱。”
“习惯？今天就不要这习惯，”陌生人答道，“仅此一次，何况还是星期六晚上呢！葛奇里先生，点个酒名吧。”
“我不希望扫朋友的雅兴，”乔说道，“那就来朗姆酒吧。”
“朗姆酒，”陌生人重复了一遍，“另一位先生的意见呢？”
“朗姆酒。”沃甫赛先生说道。
“来三份朗姆酒！”陌生人对着老板大叫道，“要三只杯子！”
“这一位先生，”乔把沃甫赛先生介绍给陌生人道，“一定是你想认识的先生。他是我们教堂里的办事员。”
“啊哈！”陌生人迅速地膜了我一眼，说道，“就是那座教堂！孤零零的，坐落在沼泽地那边，四周尽是坟墓。”
“对。”乔说道。
这位陌生人用叼着烟斗的嘴发出一声像猪一样的哼声，然后把他的两条腿搁到由他独占的长靠背椅上。他头上戴了一顶阔边的旅行帽，帽下垫了一块手绢，当头巾包在头上，因此看不到他头上的头发。他看着炉火时，我发现他面孔上露出狡黠的表情，接着做出一种似笑非笑的样子。
“对于这个乡村我不熟悉，先生们，不过这似乎是一个孤寂的乡村，坐落在河的旁边。”
“沼泽地太多了，就显得荒寂。”乔说道。
“毫无疑问，毫无疑问。你是不是见过在那边有什么吉卜赛人，或者流浪汉，或者东飘西荡的那一类人呢？”
“没有，”乔答道，“不过有时会有一两个逃犯。要找到他们可是不容易啊，沃甫赛先生，你说呢？”
沃甫赛先生对于那次狼狈的经历仍记忆犹新，虽表示了同意，但一点儿也不热情。
“看上去你们还跟着去追捕过逃犯呢？”这位陌生人问道。
“有过一次，”乔答道，“当然我们不是去捉他们，你知道，我们只不过是到那里去看看。我去了，还有沃甫赛先生，还有皮普。皮普，是不是我们都去了？”
“不错，乔。”
这位陌生人又看了我一眼。他总是膘着看我，仿佛正端着一枝枪对我瞄准。他说道：“他倒是个有前途的孩子，虽然生得瘦小。刚才你叫他什么来着？”
“皮普。”乔答道。
“皮普是教名吗？”
“他的教名不是皮普。”
“那么皮普是姓喽？”
“也不是，”乔说道，“不过皮普和姓读起来很相像，这是他婴儿时代口齿不清造成的，以后也就叫白了。”
“他是你的儿子吗？”
“那——”乔答道，露出沉思的样子。当然，他并不是必须思考这一问题，而是因为坐在三个快乐船夫酒店中，一叼上烟斗，似乎就会沉思起所讨论的每一件事情。“那——不是。不是，他不是我的儿子。”
“是你的侄子？”陌生人又问道。
“那，”乔答道，仍然是一副沉思的神情，“他不是我侄儿，不，我绝不骗你，他不是——我的侄儿。”
“真活见鬼，他究竟是你的什么人？”陌生人问道。我听了他的话，感到他这种问话的腔调是完全没有必要的。
这时，沃甫赛先生便插进来了。他这个人对这里的各种亲戚关系了如指掌，这也是他的职业习惯，心中有一本谱，记得某男和某女有亲戚关系不可结婚等等。所以，他便解释了我和乔之间的关系。沃甫赛先生不仅插嘴解释了情况，而且在讲完后还朗诵了一段从《理查三世》中选来的台词。那种蛮喊蛮叫简直令人毛骨悚然。然后，他似乎觉得表演已经足够说明问题了，但没有忘记又补充了一句：“这是诗人莎士比亚说的。”
这里我有些事情需要说明一下，刚才沃甫赛先生谈论我时，他觉得还要有一个必须的动作，那就是乱揪乱摸我的头发，使头发都戳进我的眼睛。我无法弄清楚，为何像他如此有身份地位的人到我们家做客时，总是要寻找一个相似的机会乱弄一下我的头发，使得我两眼都红肿起来。只要我一回忆起已逝的童年时代，那一幕幕家庭社交圈子里发生的事便浮现在眼前，特别是某个慷慨的人用大手摸我，名义上是爱护我，其实是使我双眼红肿。这是我忘不掉的。
在整个这段时间里，那个陌生人除掉望着我之外什么人也不看。他看我的那个样子仿佛他终于下定决心对我瞄准，然后要置我于死地似的。刚才他骂了那句话见鬼的话后便不言语了，一直等到三杯兑水朗姆酒送上来。接着，他便开枪了。这可谓是非常特殊的一枪。
这一枪不是用语言射出来的，而是演了一幕哑剧，并且明明白白是对着我演的。他搅拌兑水朗姆酒也明明白白是对着我搅拌的；他尝了一口兑水朗姆酒也明明白白是对着我尝的。他一面搅拌，一面品尝着酒，不是用送来的汤匙，而是用一把锉子。
他的动作是别人看不到的，只有我才能看到那把锉子。他搅拌完酒后，把锉子拭干，装进衣服的胸袋之中。我认出那是乔的锉子。我明白他一定认识我遇见的那个犯人。现在，我看到了那把工具，坐在那里凝视着他，心神恍惚，而他则倚在那张长靠背椅上，再不睬我，却大谈特谈起萝卜。
每逢周末晚上，我们村子里就充满了一种令人愉悦的情感，到处被弄得干干净净。人们都要安安静静地休息一下，以迎接下一周的新生活。这也使乔有勇气敢于在星期六晚上在酒店里比平时多待半小时。今天，这半个小时和兑水朗姆酒都结束了，乔便起身告辞，拉着我的手向外走去。
“葛奇里先生，请稍等一下，”陌生人说道，“我想起在我的口袋里有一枚崭新发亮的先令，我想就送给这个孩子吧。”
他从掏出的一把零钱中找到这个先令，用一张皱巴巴的纸包好，然后才给我。“这是你的！”他说道，“记住！这是你自己的。”
我对他表示了谢意。虽然这已超过了礼貌的范围，可我仍是盯住他看，同时紧紧依偎在乔的身边。他对乔说了晚安，又对沃甫赛先生道了晚安（他正和我们一同离开），然而对我，他只是用瞄准的眼光扫了一下。也许，他的眼光根本就没有扫过我，因为他闭上了那只眼睛，不过，这一闭眼把千言万语都包藏其中了。
在回家的路上，即使我有兴趣谈些什么，也只能是独自一人自谈自说，因为一出三个快乐船夫酒店的大门，沃甫赛先生便和我们告别而去，而乔一路上都把他的嘴张得大大的，尽可能地用吸进的空气把朗姆酒的气味洗涮干净。我现在的思想茫无头绪，因为心里又翻腾起过去的错误行为，映出了老相识的影子，自然也不可能再想其他的东西。
我们走进了厨房。今天倒不错，我姐姐没有大发雷霆，乔也因为这件不寻常的事大着胆子把那枚崭新发亮的先令的来历详详细细地告诉了她。“我敢担保这是假先令，”乔夫人得胜似的说道，“要是真先令他就不会给一个孩子了。拿来让我看看。”
我把纸包打开，从中拿出先令。这确实是一枚真的先令。“这是什么？”我姐姐说道，随手放下先令，把纸包翻开来一看。“两张一英镑的钞票？”
确实是两张一英镑的钞票，油腻腻、热乎乎的，好像和这里乡下的牲畜市场有过非常亲密的交情。乔这时又戴上他的帽子，拿起这两张钞票向三个快乐船夫酒店跑去，想把钱还给那个人。乔走后我便坐在我惯坐的那张小凳子上，失魂落魄地望着我姐姐，心里有一个念头，就是那个人早不在那里了。
不一会儿乔就口来了，说那个人也已离开了，不过关于这两张钞票，乔已经在三个快乐船夫酒家留了言。然后，我姐姐就用一张纸把钞票包好，又封得严严密密，放在客厅一张柜子顶上的茶壶里。这个茶壶是当装饰品用的，把钱放进去后她又将一些干玫瑰花瓣铺在上面。这以后它们便成了噩梦之魇，多少个日日夜夜缠住我不得安心。
我躺在床上无法成眠，那个陌生人总在我心头出现，他用一枚无形的枪在瞄准着我；还有我那件下贱的犯罪行为，和一个逃犯私下来往。我想这件事虽小，对我这个刚开始涉世的小人来说却可谓大事，而这大事居然在今天的事发生前被我忘记了。现在，这把锉子又鬼魂般地出现。我想这恐怖随时会缠住我，锉子还会重现。为了诱使自己入眠，我便想着下星期三到郝维仙小姐家里的事。然后，我真的进入了睡乡，不过在迷糊之中，我看到锉子从门口伸了进来，还没有看到拿锉子的人是谁，我便大叫一声惊醒了。