and come in half an hour,” was the firm reply.
Our chaplain felt that if the man did not go he should not be five minutes before he asked to be released, and he was determined to know “what we are doing.”
Evans had not been gone ten minutes before he bitterly repented letting him go, and when that worthy returned he found him muttering faintly, “It is in a good cause-it is in a good cause—”
Evans wore a grin.
“You shall pay for that grin,” said the chaplain to himself.
“Well, sir, have you had enough of it?”
“Yes, Evans; you may loose me,” said the other with affected nonchalance.
“What is it like, sir? haw! haw!”
“It is as you described it, oncomfortable; but the knowledge I have gained in it is invaluable. You shall share it.”
“With all my heart, sir; you can tell me what it is like.”
“Oh, no! such knowledge can never be imparted by description; you shall take your turn in the jacket.”
“Not if I know it.”
“What, not for the sake of knowledge?”
“Oh! I can guess what it is like.”
“But you will oblige me?”
“Some other way, sir, if you please.”
“Besides, I will give you a guinea.”
“Oh! that alters the case, sir. But only for half an hour.”
“Only for half an hour.”
Evans was triced up and pinned to the wall; the chaplain took out a guinea and placed it in his sight, and walked out.
In about ten minutes he returned, and there was Evans, his face drawn down by pain.
“Well, how do you like it?”
“Oh! pretty well, sir; it isn't worth making an outcry about.”
“Only a little oncomfortable.”
“That is all; if it wasn't for the confounded cramp.”
“Let us compare notes,” said the chaplain, sitting down opposite. “I found it worse than uncomfortable. First there was a terrible sense of utter impotence, then came on racking cramps, for which there was no relief because I could not move.”
“Oh!”
“What?”
“Nothing, sir! mum—mum—dear guinea!”
“The jagged collar gave me much pain, too; it rasped my poor throat like a file.”
“Why the dickens didn't you tell me all this before, sir,” said Evans ruefully; “it is no use now I've been and gone into the same oven like a fool.”
“I had my reasons for not telling you before; good-by for the present.”
“Don't stay over the half hour, for goodness' sake, sir.”
“No! adieu for the present.”
He did not go far. He listened and heard the plucky Evans groan. He came hastily in.
“Courage, my fine fellow, only eight minutes more and the guinea is yours.
“How many more minutes, sir?”
“Eight.”
“Then, oh! undo me, sir, if you please.”
“What! forfeit the guinea for eight minutes—seven, it is only seven now.”
“Hang the guinea, let me down, sir, if there's pity in you.”
“With all my heart,” said the reverend gentleman, pocketing the guinea, and he loosed Evans with all speed.
The man stretched his limbs with ejaculations of pain between every stretch, and put his handkerchief on very gingerly. He looked sulky and said nothing. The other watched him keenly, for there was something about him that showed his mind was working.
“There is your guinea.”
“Oh, no! I didn't earn it.”
“Oh, if you think that (putting it to the lips of his pocket), let me make you a present of it” (handing it out again). Evans smiled. “It is a good servant. That little coin has got me one friend more for these poor prisoners. You don't understand me, Evans. Well, you will. Now, look at me; from this moment, sir, you and I stand on a different footing from others in this jail. We know what we are doing when we put a prisoner in that thing; the others don't. The greater the knowledge, the greater the guilt. May we both be kept from the crime of cruelty. Good-night!”
“Good-night, your reverence!” said the man gently, awed by his sudden solemnity.
The chaplain retired. Evans looked after him, and then down into his own hand.
“Well, I'm blowed!—Well, I'm blest!—Got a guinea, though!!”
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