Читать книгу The Hermit Convict - Rev. William Draper - Страница 10

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Judd, as a clerk, had given the reins to his selfish pleasures, and, as a natural consequence, envy, because of the greater success and prosperity which accompanied Stewart's uniform good conduct, fixed itself as a lodger in his heart, and he could not expel it. As a plotter against others, he repeated in his history the lesson which has so often been preached and taught—once get into the turbid current of iniquitous practices, and no power short of Omnipotence can snatch from it. But it was as a felon that the full venom which was inherent in his nature shot forth as from a serpent's tooth, to poison everything with which he came into contact. He was conducted back to prison, and, heavily ironed, was put into a strong cell. The first fourteen days of his incarceration were passed, in accordance with the sentence, in solitary confinement, the effect of which upon this hard man was chiefly of a physical character; the mental was untouched. The transition from the hypocrite to the unmasking was with him a period in which he had bolted on to his nature a desire for merciless revenge. "Henceforth," said he to himself, "it shall be war to the knife between me and all the accursed race of man."

It was on the tenth day after his conviction that the governor of the prison, together with the chaplain, entered his cell. They found him in a perfect frenzy of passion. The Rev. Mr. Carlisle, a most excellent clergyman, a kind friend to the prisoners, and a zealous and conscientious chaplain, approached the convict first, and spoke kindly to him. He was sitting on a fixed bench close to the wall of his cell, his head bowed down, his hands clasped convulsively together, and his whole frame quivering under the influence of excessive emotion. He looked up as the two officials entered the cell, but it was only for an instant. But he had trained himself to act well. From the most intense agony of spirit, which it was very painful to witness, he passed, at an interval of a few seconds, into an atmosphere of the utmost nonchalance, and began to whistle a popular air.

"Come, my man," said the governor, "please to remember that you are not alone. Be respectful and orderly."

"I will, sir," replied the convict. "I will listen while you put your regulation questions to me. You are come to convert me. Oh! I quite understand your plans. But, let me tell you, I will answer none of your questions. Does the law compel me to do it, eh! governor?"

"The law does not," quietly replied Mr. Carlisle; "but society, of which you are now deprived—"

"Yes, for life! Better hang me outright!" replied the wretched man, interrupting the chaplain, and speaking very loud. "Do you think I care a jot what becomes of me now? He, he! Yes, that thing who sat on the bench—he who said, 'For life, prisoner!'—he told me it was no use to hope for anything else. What, then, have I to look forward to? No, you may torture me, but I won't repent, you may tease me, but I won't ask for mercy, you may use soft words, but I'll admit nothing."

The bitterness with which these words were uttered cannot be expressed. If you have seen a tiger when the keeper has been tempting him with his food through the bars of his cage, you may imagine the snarl with which the words were belched out.

The chaplain replied: "I am very sorry, Judd, to find such bitterness of spirit. When the anger of God falls upon us, we should try and humble ourselves in His sight. Such expressions of useless anger as those we have heard must only increase your wretchedness. We all desire to do what is possible to save you."

"Save me! Save ME, me! You said, did you not? SAVE-ME! Pray cease your mockery, sir. Add not to this ridiculous scene, or to my sentence, by such hypocritical fulsomeness. If you were to come to me, or twenty like you, with—; but I don't know that I would thank you for that, and so I won't say it. I shall be answering your questions if I am not careful."

"To what do you refer?" said Mr. Carlisle. "If it is anything which relates to—"

"I tell you it is no good to expect anything from me."

"Well, well," replied Mr. Carlisle, "I hope to find you more disposed to listen to me when I visit you again. Think as you will, Judd, I assure you that you have my good will. I heartily wish that I could help you."

The good clergyman spoke with a faltering voice. No one felt more pity for hopeless misery than he did. He was accustomed to say that life cases always deeply affected him, for hope appeared to forsake the poor wretches who had nothing but misery before them.

Judd was silent for a moment, but evidently touched with the earnest feeling with which the good man spoke, he replied, "Sir, I dare say you may feel for me; I was wrong in thinking otherwise, but I am very bitter just now. Ah! you know not how hard I feel. I know I have been wicked but to be cut off from all hope, all!—this is more than I deserve. For life the judge said."

A tear stood in the wretched man's eye as he spoke, but it was quickly brushed away, as if he was ashamed of it. He arose and stood before the two officials, steadfastly looking into their countenances as if to read their thoughts.

The governor now spoke: "The judge, my man, did not make the law, and there was no recommendation to mercy. If you were to—"

"Confess. Ah! I knew all along what was coming," said the convict. "This is what you do with all your wretched victims. You take good care that a poor bailed beast has no chance of escape, and then you set your dogs on to get him into the confessional. I don't confess; I will not admit anything. You have my answer. If you will have your pound of flesh, prisoner though I am, I can prevent you from drawing from me one drop of blood. Do let me alone; I have had worry enough for once."

"Worry!" replied the governor, "that is a strange thing for a criminal to talk about. You have made your own bed, and upon it you must lie; and depend upon it your haughty spirit will find a tamer before long."

"Mr. Sumner, is it a part of your duty to add to the sentence which has been passed upon me?" said Judd, turning round sharply towards the governor as he spoke.

"No, certainly not," replied the officer; "nor do I wish to do so, but let me tell you this: it is a part of my duty to see that you behave yourself respectfully and properly, and as long as you are under my charge, I intend to do that duty."

"Mr. Sumner will excuse me," said the chaplain, "for interrupting this conversation, and for saying that we had a special object in visiting you to-day. It is best that you should know it and I hope you will see that only obedience and good conduct can now avail you. The judge is anxious that you should, if it lays within your power, do a simple act of justice towards James Stewart and David Argyle. If you know anything which may alter the position of those young men, your own case can be none the worse if you confess it. It may do them a benefit, perhaps yourself also; but at least it will remove from your own soul that which, if you are guilty of injury to them, must be a terrible burden to bear."

"Sir," replied Judd, after a brief pause, during which he sat down and kept his eyes fixed upon the floor of the cell; "Sir, I do not admit that I am guilty. Stewart has told a lie, may a blasting curse rest upon him and his cursed religion. Now, don't be angry, I can't help it!"

"Well but, Judd—"

"Now will you please, sir, to hear me," resumed the convict. "I appeared against him; he retaliated. It is the old tale—tit for tat; and I think he has the best of it. I hated him for his prim exactness. Let him go, as well as I. We may meet, perhaps, where we can settle this affair in our own way."

"My poor mistaken fellow creature," replied Mr. Carlisle; "revenge can only add to your guilt, even though it is in thought. It can do you no good whatever. Restitution may serve you."

"What have I to restore, sir?" replied Judd, with great bitterness.

"That which is better than money," said Mr. Carlisle, in a deep and solemn manner: "a good name, liberty, character."

"Sir," replied Judd, "I shall say nothing more—be assured of this; nothing—nothing—no nothing—in this land of chains and dungeons."

"Then my blood is clear of you," said the reverend gentleman. "You are to be removed very soon, and may the good Lord have mercy on your soul, and lead you to repentance."

"Amen," said the governor, and so the fruitless interview ended.

Judd was soon removed to another gaol, where he remained until the period of embarkation. Nothing, however, made any impression upon him; he still continued to be the same hardened, desperate villain. Proficient in every evil work, he concocted several daring schemes to escape, and, being punished, he was yet more hardened than ever, so that every official in the prison rejoiced when the day arrived which was to rid them of him.