The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1869-08-04

rose In terrace5 ana ste6p laueSs Rnd was
shedding ehes last besms Of his radiance
on the A2ges dark etoHa building which
crowned the height. The red light
seemed TO be concentrated ON one part
of the building. where there was an iron
Far shove, .in the dark, massive wall, was
door, and around this gateway. men
were busy, putting mp strong timber
ratings; while crowd, talking and ges-
ticulating, constantly pressed In among
the workmen, and were driven back by
officials in uniform and few soldiers.
Inside the massive walls, other work
men were busy, but their work was COM
monplace enough. Something was wrong
with the greet main sewer of the Jail.
Masons and brieklayers had been labor
ing for some hours; and now, when the
city clocks and bells we're striking six,
they were taking up their tools, putting
on their coats, and leaving their work
till next day.
There were no rough jests am ong them.
One man laughed as his companion slip
ped down into the Shiny ditch whence
they had emerged; but his merriment
was checked by an involuntary look from
the others toward the far side of the
yard; wh ere q man in felon's dress, and
with manacled hands, was walking slow
ly up and down.
s'Lord have mercy on his sowl p NUT
tered an old mason, compassionately.
"Poor Tim Welsh as honest boy
afore he got into bad company, as iver q
father rared."
Whether the prisoner had caught the
sound OF bis name or not, he raised his
head and looked sadly toward them.
''Lord help him !" said two or three of
the men, "for maxim away with one
poor sheep-what rich man had
plenty Off
An official came across the yard to look
at their days work, and after asking
some questions. walked away, saying,
"Come along now, the gate is OPEN"
SO. casting backward glance at the
manacled prisoner, the men passed
through an arch into an inner court,
whence the great door opened them out
into the street.
The manacled man gazed after their
retreatiDg figures, with sigh-almost a
groan-as he thought of their return to
their homes, free and happy from their
honest labor. while he-the "rap, rap,
rap, tap, tap" of carpenters hammers
outside beat at the thought he could not
dwell upon.
There was no one with him, no one
near him, but turnkey pacing up and
down an angle of the building; for in
those days there was far less vigilance
than now. He was not confined to his
cell on this, the last day of his life, but
was permitted to walk about the quad
rangles of the prison; apart from the
other criminals, however, and securely
handcuffed.
Bitter and despairing were his
thoughts. He thought of his gray hair
ed widowed mother, of his stalwart
young brothers, of the lads he had PLAYED
ball with, of Katie Moran, whom he had
danced with at The fair, only two months
ago. Mechanically he walked across the
square to the place where the brick-lay-
ers and masons had been busy; thinking
as he did so, half unconsciously, now
large the opening was, how long the
great sewer was, and where it emptied
itself. Suddenly q thought occurred to
him, making his pale, thin, face flush,
and his fettered hands tremble with ex-
oitement. He turned sharply away lest
he should excite suspicion, and loitered
with his former heavy step toward the
doorway OF the inner courtyard.
Coin in. are your" said the turn.
key.
Eyes" replied the prisoner
The official stalked on before him into
the adjoining square, then opening q
door, passed through long stone corri-
dor, and stopping before cell door, un-
locked it. eff you want anything, YOU
can call" he said, graciously, through
the trap in the door, as he relocked it,
"Thank ye," answered the condemned
man. If the official had been better
skilled in reading faces, he might have
looked to the fastening of the cell door a
little more carefully.
Tim Welsh had noticed that the bolt
of the lock was very shaky, and he knew
that shaky bolt can be forced back.
It would not be dusk for long while
yet, but he could not wait; the one
chance-desperate- hopeless, as it seem
ed-must be tried quickly. While the
turn-key's step re-eohoed in his hearing,
he. still. l..fettered. unscrewedl the iron leg
of his bedstead, and, stealing forward,
waited until he heard the great doors at
the end of the corridor clash; then, put
ting the leg of the bedstead between the
bolt and the wall, he strove with all his
strength to force it back. But it resist
ed, and he dared not make o noise.
Il l. ~