The next morning soon after chapel a gentleman’s servant rode up to the jail and delivered a letter for Mr. Hawes.  It was from Justice Williams.  That worthy expressed in polysyllables his sorrow at the death of Josephs after this fashion: 

“A circumstance of this kind is always to be deplored, since it gives occasion to the enemies of the system to cast reflections, which, however unphilosophical and malignant, prejudice superficial judgments against our salutary discipline.”

He then went on to say that the visiting justices would be at the jail the next day at one o’clock to make their usual report, in which Mr. Hawes might be sure his zeal and fidelity would not pass unnoticed.  He concluded by saying that Mr. Hawes must on that occasion present his charges against the chaplain in a definite form, and proceedings would be taken on the spot.

“Aha! aha!  So I shall get rid of him.  Confound him! he makes me harder upon the beggars than I should be.  Fry, put these numbers on the cranks and bring me your report after dinner.”

With these words Mr. Hawes vanished, and to the infinite surprise of the turnkeys was not seen in the jail for many hours.  At two o’clock, as he was still not in the prison, Fry went to his house.  He found Mr. Hawes deep in a book.

“Brought the report, sir.”

“Give it to me.  Humph!  No. 40 and 45 refractory at the crank.  No. 65 caught getting up to his window; says he wanted to feel the light. 65—­that is one of the boys, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How old is the young varmint?”

“Eleven, sir.”

“No. 14 heard to speak to a prisoner that was leaving the jail, his term being out.  What did he say to him?”

“Said ‘Good-by!  God bless you!’”

“I’ll shut his mouth.  Confound the beggars! how fond they are of talking.  I think they would rather go without their food than without their jaw.

“No. 19 caught writing a story.  It is that fellow Robinson, one of the parson’s men.  I’ll write something on his skin.  How did he get the things to write with?”

“Chaplain gave them him.”

“Ah!  I am glad of that.  You brought them away, of course?”

“Yes, sir; here they are.  He made a terrible fuss about parting with them.”

“What did he say?”

“He said Heaven was to judge between me and him.”

“Blaspheming dog! ——­ him!  I’ll break him.  What else?”

“‘Get out of my sight,’ said he, ‘for fear I do you a mischief.’  So then down he pops on his knees in a corner and turns his back on me, like an ignorant brute that he is.”

“Never mind, Fry, I’ll break him.”

“I suppose we shall see you in the prison soon, shan’t we, sir?  The place looks strange to me without you.”

“By-and-by—­by-and-by.  This confounded book sticks to me like a leech.  How far had you got when you lent it me?”