The Inmate of the Dungeon | Page 6

you leave me alive I will kill you for this.'
"His face got white. He asked me if I meant that, and I said, 'Yes;
before God, I do.' Then he took the whip in both hands and came down
with all his might."
"That was nearly two years ago," said the chairman. "You would not

kill him now, would you?"
"Yes. I will kill him if I get a chance; and I feel it in me that the chance
will come."
"Well, proceed."
"He kept on whipping me. He whipped me with all the strength of both
hands. I could feel the broken skin curl upon my back, and when my
head got too heavy to hold it straight it hung down, and I saw the blood
on my legs and dripping off my toes into a pool of it on the floor.
Something was straining and twisting inside of me again. My back
didn't hurt much; it was the thing twisting inside of me that hurt. I
counted the lashes, and when I counted to twenty-eight the twisting got
so hard that it choked me and blinded me;... and when I woke up I was
in the dungeon again, and the doctor had my back all plastered up, and
he was kneeling beside me, feeling my pulse."
The prisoner had finished. He looked around vaguely, as though he
wanted to go.
"And you have been in the dungeon ever since?"
"Yes, sir; but I don't mind that."
"How long?"
"Twenty-three months."
"On bread and water?"
"Yes; but that was all I wanted."
"Have you reflected that so long as you harbor a determination to kill
the warden you may be kept in the dungeon? You can't live much
longer there, and if you die there you will never find the chance you
want. If you say you will not kill the warden he may return you to the
cells."

"But that would be a lie, sir; I will get a chance to kill him if I go to the
cells. I would rather die in the dungeon than be a liar and sneak. If you
send me to the cells I will kill him. But I will kill him without that. I
will kill him, sir.... And he knows it."
Without concealment, but open, deliberate, and implacable, thus in the
wrecked frame of a man, so close that we could have touched it, stood
Murder--not boastful, but relentless as death.
"Apart from weakness, is your health good?" asked the chairman.
"Oh, it's good enough," wearily answered the convict. "Sometimes the
twisting comes on, but when I wake up after it I'm all right."
The prison surgeon, under the chairman's direction, put his ear to the
convict's chest, and then went over and whispered to the chairman.
"I thought so," said that gentleman. "Now, take this man to the hospital.
Put him to bed where the sun will shine on him, and give him the most
nourishing food."
The convict, giving no heed to this, shambled out with a guard and the
surgeon.
*****
The warden sat alone in the prison office with No. 14,208. That he at
last should have been brought face to face, and alone, with the man
whom he had determined to kill, perplexed the convict. He was not
manacled; the door was locked, and the key lay on the table between
the two men. Three weeks in the hospital had proved beneficial, but a
deathly pallor was still in his face.
"The action of the directors three weeks ago," said the warden, "make
my resignation necessary. I have awaited the appointment of my
successor, who is now in charge. I leave the prison to-day. In the
meantime, I have something to tell you that will interest you. A few
days ago a man who was discharged from the prison last year read what

the papers have published recently about your case, and he has written
to me confessing that it was he who got your tobacco from the captain
of the guard. His name is Salter, and he looks very much like you. He
had got his own extra, and when he came up again and called for yours
the captain, thinking it was you, gave it to him. There was no intention
on the captain's part to rob you."
The convict gasped and leaned forward eagerly.
"Until the receipt of this letter," resumed the warden, "I had opposed
the movement which had been started for your pardon; but when this
letter came I recommended your pardon, and it has been granted.
Besides, you have a serious heart trouble. So you are now discharged
from the prison."
The convict stared, and leaned back speechless. His eyes shone with a
strange, glassy expression, and his white teeth glistened