“Now, Clarence has his freedom and has left the prison. Next comes the trial of the officer, and poor Pat, what a predicament he is in! I must have him for a witness in this case. I must try to find out all he knows, and if it will not assist any in the Pearson case, I will try to get along without him. Well, I thought Pat just stepped out to avoid the Pearson scene. I hope that he will return soon. I shall have to notify the officials of the new prisoner’s arrival. Here comes Pat.

“Well, Pat, I thought you had walked away with Clarence Pearson. The poor fellow was a happy man when he left this place.”

“They will have the same thing to say when someone else walks away from here.”

“Pat, I did not say ‘they’; I said ‘I.’ To whom are you alluding as ‘they,’ and when who walks away?”

“Well, your honor, I am the next to give the papers to, and please give me my papers of resignment. I don’t believe I want the job anny longer. I am not after looking for a long job here.”

“It is bed-time now, Pat. To-morrow will bring forth something new. Pearson’s trial will take place, and probably you may have to fill his office, as assistant, here with me. We shall have to have another man in his place. I think you could do it.”

“Yes, I could probably fill the place he is now about to fill. I am not looking for the job, indade I am not.”

“Pat, you are worried to-night. So much excitement the last three or four months has upset you. It will have to be settled—all will be settled after Pearson gets located, and now it is late, and we must retire. Good night.”

“Good night, officer.”

Pat muttered: “As I hear the big iron door slam after me it makes me blood run cold. I am in a fix. What is money for? To make criminals, I belave. I belave every convict under this blooming roof is here for or on account of money. The vile stuff! We get a living, and have to work, or should if we don’t, and it only keeps us out of mischief—and then it don’t. I am in it now, and I have been working too, but there it leads up to money, for the fine clothes and the gentleman, and the good times that would go with it. I would be able to go and lay me head down on me pillow to-night and slape if it wasn’t for money. Instead of that, I have to pace around this place all the night. Yes, here it is nearly morning, and not a wink of slape. I’d just as soon be guilty, as so near and not, for I am taking on the same guilty condition. I belave I’ll walk around and see if me friend is worrying over me as much as I am meself. What? I hear him talking to the new prisoner. I’ll see if he is telling him how to behave himself. I don’t belave they placed the new man in 78—yes, indade, they did. I remember, he said the real murderer would be occupying Clarence’s cell and Clarence would have his freedom. Well, he is talking very nice to the new man. I will see what the conversation is about.”

“Tell me about it,” said Pearson. “How did you come to confess that you were the real murderer of this woman? They had a man serving time for the crime.”

“Yes; that is why I confessed, and for other reasons.”

“What were the other reasons? Would you mind telling me?”

“I am trying to forget it. I will tell you, and then I shall never repeat it again. It is too horrid; I can not stand it to talk about it. I was married only a short time, and a difference arose, one day, between my dear wife and myself. I became angry, and was talking loudly, when the door opened and this fellow who was serving time here for the crime came rushing in unannounced, and asked my wife if he could assist her. She was afraid of me, but she declined to accept his help. He left with apologies for intruding. I grew more excited, and in a fit of uncontrollable temper I choked her to death. I came to myself and found her lying at my feet dead. Oh, man! can you picture the agony I was in? I thought of that man, and how I could lay the murder on him. I ran from the house and met an officer. I told him my wife was just murdered by a man whom I had just seen leave the house. The officer rushed up the street, and I recognized the man as the same who had offered to help my poor wife, and I shouted, ‘There he is!’ and to jail the officer took him. At the trial I swore that he was the murderer, knowing that I myself was the guilty one, and he was the man who was given his freedom to-day. I will tell you all, as I have started. I know that all the time he was here I suffered more than he ever could.”

“In what way, Devenart?—is that your name?”

“Yes; but just call me ‘Will.’ I do not want to disgrace my father and mother by causing their name to be spoken.

“I can not tell you in what way. I can tell you the mysterious way I was punished. I never lay down and closed my eyes that I did not see my poor dead wife, and presently another woman would come up to me and point her finger at me with scorn. After many terrible nights, I began to hear noises. I could not at first understand, and one night I was touched by some unknown hand, and I was frightened beyond words. I thought, ‘If I could only die and get away from it all!’ I am so excited now I can not talk longer.”

“I should like to have you finish. We may not get a chance again, as you know the rules are, ‘No talking among the prisoners.’”

“I am glad that I have rested to-night without seeing her face, and I will never tell the story again. As I am here for life, I know that I never shall, if we can not talk.

“One night, as I was sitting on the side of my bed, I could not lie down and close my eyes, and I saw my wife walk up to me, and by her side came an elderly lady, and I tried to close my eyes so I could not see them, but I could see them as plainly with my eyes closed as with them open. I stood up and begged them to go away and let me rest for the remainder of the night. Then, for the first time, I heard a voice, and it was the motherly lady who spoke, and these were her words—oh! I am telling the terrible story under a dreadful strain; I am living it all over again. I thought I saw the same lady standing by your side, as I am looking through these bars.”

“You will have strength, I hope, to tell me all. Please finish the story.”

“I will finish now, if I am—oh, she spoke to me! Was that where I left off? I believe it was. The elderly lady came closer than my poor wife did, and as she spoke I can never explain the feelings I had. I called for help. I prayed and fell down on my knees and asked for mercy and help. The voice answered:

“‘So did your wife pray for her life, and it was not spared—by the hands of a brute, and that was you. Now you suffer as you have caused her to suffer—I say suffer!’

“My friend, can you think of a punishment like that? I could bear punishment from the hands of my fellow-men, but when I know not from whence it comes or what it is, it is terrible. I am suffering for all the sins I ever committed.

“My man, I see, I do see, the same lady by your side, and my wife!

“O Father, come to me in this hour of need. I am being punished for the terrible crime I have committed. May I not be shown mercy? I am guilty, and have pleaded so, and will plead guilty, even in my prayers to Thee. Help and forgive me. How I have suffered! Thou knowest, and Thou alone. From this on I shall live as I should—pray every day for the forgiveness of my sins. Each day will I pray for guidance and help in all my undertakings. Help me to live the way I should live. Turn not a deaf ear to me, O Father. I am in sorrow and need Thy help. I am here that the one who has received his freedom may go forth with Thy blessing; that the whole world may look on him as an innocent man, and not as a murderer, as I swore that he was. I ask also for help for him. May he forgive me. I may never have the opportunity to meet him on this earth, but I hope to meet him in Heaven, as innocent of all crime as he was of that of which I accused him. O blessed Father, I do feel that Thou wilt answer my prayers. Amen!”

“Well, well, you can pray as well as murder,” said Pearson. “I was wondering if you ever prayed before.”

“No, my friend, and if you would experience the heavy burden lifted from your shoulders as I did from that prayer, you would pray, or try to, as I did.”

“I think I had better get away from here, if they are going to have prayer-meeting,” muttered Pat. “I wonder if a bit of a prayer would do me good. The first chance I get, I belave I will do a little of it. Well, here is another day, and nearly time for the trial. I had better step in the office a bit.”

“Pat, your absence this morning makes me think you had a good night’s rest.”

“I will call it rest when I get it. Indade, I never closed me eyes.”

“Was anything wrong with the prisoners? I was going to ask you to go by cell 78 and see our new prisoner, and it passed from my mind.”

“I did the very thing that passed from your mind. I guess it came to my mind.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Yes. We had some prayers, and I think it helped the fellow that prayed, and I am thinking of doing a little of it meself, when I get a chance.”

“The poor man! Remorse always sets in after they get in behind the bars, Pat. Do you know that this is a hard place to be—to work for a livelihood? You have no trouble of your own, but you worry about the other fellow’s trouble.”

“Faith, and if I had no troubles of me own, I would let the other fellow worry about his own.”

“You have no troubles to worry over. See how long you have been here, and you could not get into trouble here, could you?”

“No, I couldn’t, but I have.”

“You have? Tell me, Pat, what is wrong.”

“We had better put that off.”

“It will soon be time for Pearson’s trial, and you will be one of the witnesses. As he has confessed that he is guilty, I think it will go hard with him.”

“Now, me friend, your honor, I’m not going to kape the secret anny longer. I just as well have it out with, and you may cut down expenses and have two trials at once. I have a secret to tell you. Every bit of it is the truth, and I too am going to confess, and then, when I get the chance, I’ll pray, and perhaps I too will feel better.”

“Go ahead, Pat.”

“I am after listening, and I heard the man to be tried to-day trying to spend five thousand dollars easy, and I thought: ‘If you have it to give away, I meself would take a little of it.’ And I in a way as much as told him so, and then I changed me mind. I thought I would like this job the best. Now he insists I spend his money, and I don’t want it at all, and I told him so. Now he has threatened to turn me over to the officials here if I don’t be a gentleman, and I never was one, and now I know I couldn’t be one, so there is the secret.”

“Well, we must now attend court. You will have to tell all you know, Pat. You may go for Pearson and take him to court. I will be there presently.”

“Here is me punishment beginning now. I am after getting a taste of it meself. I may be the next poor devil to court. For the love of Mike! what will I do? Pray? I haven’t the time now. I will after I get through with this trial, and then I may have something to pray for. Here I am at the cell, and I belave he’s aslape. Now, I wonder if he was awake all night. I’m not aslape, and I was up too, all night. I will get him out of here.”

“Come, Officer Pearson! Your trial is at hand, and I have come for you.”

“I’m willing to go, Pat—and say, Pat, are you for me, or against me?”

“I am neither, if I don’t have to be.”

“If you are called to the stand, what will you say—anything about our plot to get away?”

“Will you say anything about it if I am not called to the stand?”

“I’m not quite sure if I will or not, Pat. I must be out of here, and if you will get me out, I will not mention anything about your offering to liberate me.”

“If you think you can get away without my help, you may do so—if I don’t see you; but if I see you, you won’t get away. Here we are at the court.”