Sword and shield., 1885-07-04

1t was now getting late, and the sun
was just down, so there was no timo
to be lost, as we had long way to go,
and was rather doubtful about my
powers Of carrying him, for he was, or
had been, Of a tolerable size and
weight; but now he looked such mere
bundle of tones, that l thought | might
manage it. AT any rate, there was
nothing to do but to try; SO | hoisted
him up on my back and started off in
the direction Of Princes Town.
| shall not easily forget that journey;
it soon grew quite dark, as | toiled on
over the lonely road, with frequent
halts to rest, while poor No. 1872 grew
weaker and weaker, and his terrible
cough more and more frequent. We
had gone, suppose, about three miles,
when began to feel that it was quite
impossible for me 10 accomplish the
remaining distance, rs it was so dark
that ! stumbled painfully over the
rough path, and at each stumble my
burden eroaned with pain, and cough
Ell so dismally, that felt my we'll
meant endcayors were only putting
him TO complete torture; SO | stopped,
laid him down on the grass, and told
him that we would not try to 90 on till
the moon rose. '.All right, guV' nor,
said he, feebly, and fell back fainting;
so | administered the last few drops of
brandy had left, covered him up as
well as | could with my coat. propped
his head upon my sketching-case, sat
down by his side. and wondered what
would be the end OF my adventure.
looked at my watch and saw that
it was nine o'clock. The moon. |
knew, would not rise till nearly mid
night, so we had three hours 10 wait
/ think those three hours were the
longest | ever passed III my life. The
silence and the loneliness of rhe moor
were terrible, and No. 1872 lay with his
eyes closed. and, save for an occasional
groan. might have been dead. Once
or twice he tried to speak. but appar-
emily it was beyond his powers. and he
fell back again exhausted. Once he
put out his hand, caught mine, and to
my great surprise, carried 1t to his lips
and kissed it. | am not much used TO
having my hand kissed at any time, and
should probably, under any circum-
stances, feel the situation cmbarrass-
ing; but to have it kissed by 4 dying
convict out on Dartmoor, in the middle
of the night, was a novel experience.
! did not mean to hurt the feelings
of No. 492, but drew it away some
what hastily; and then, seeing his lips
move. as if he was trying to say some
thing, bent over him to listen. and in
voice little more than whisper, he
said: .'Beg your parden. sir; but you
have been precious kind to me, and |
feels weak and silly; didn't mean no
offense. =
| FASTENED with some compunction
to reassure him that | was not Offend
ed; and again he closed his eyes; and
around us once more was silence.
At last, to my great joy. the sky
frightened up bit; the outlines of the
trees became more distinct, and the
moon appeared over the hills, and shot
a flood Of silver light all over the moor.
Ny spirits, which had fallen below
zero, revived considerably; darkness
has at all times depressing influence,
and under my peculiar circumstances,
had reduced me to most profound
melancholy. l felt quite glad to see
the moon rise, though, beyond the
fact of being able to see where we
wuru, it did not materially assist me
out of the fix | was in.
/ looked at No. 492 and he seemed
TO be asleep. / did not like to wake
him, SO | got up quietly, intending to
walk to the top of hill close by, and
see if | could discover the lights of
Princes Town, or any house nearer, to
which | might direct my steps. | was
not gone long-perhaps half an hour;
and when | came back, | found No.
492 with his eyes wide open, and, to
my great surprise though ] don't
know why | should have been so sur
prised-tears running down his cheeks.
Really, my ideas about conyicts were
becoming quite upset; one who furtiye-
" kissed my hand, and who wept, was,
thought, indeed an anomaly. | bent
over him and asked him if ne was in
worse pain, or what was the matter.
Poor fellow! he lifted his wasted hand,
lrcw it across his eyes, and said: No;
amt in no pain now, sir; but woke
rom bit of doze and saw that you
vas gone; and | thought as how you
lad left me; and somehow | felt lone
ome and afeared; and then 4 great
,ob shook him. "
| assured him that | was not going
o leave him, and he appeared com
orted. Then, after a pause, said: Il
int one rs has been much afearcd in
ny time, sir; but, somehow, now |
ant 'elp it; it seems all of a tremble;
md it looks awful dark ahead of me,
md | be so weak | don't seem able to
ace it nohow."
longed truly 10 be able to help him,
nd wished it with all my heart that /
ould do it better; but feeling rather
tried to tell No 4g2 some
hing about a strong Hand which will
Ielp in the dark valley, and One who
will be near lis when of ourselves, as
70 odlhs VIC 'iOIi SCCtu " OC dUtC "
ace il nohow He listened attentive
) and then closed his eyes, murmuring
coul.! not catch.
After pause. [ asked him if he
would try to 90 on again. "All right.
5uv nor; you knows best, was his an
wer, but very faint and feeble.
Well, ! picked him up again, and off
started. BY this time the moon was
Ugh up, 50 we progressed a good deal
aster than before, and had traversed a
distance before | had to
top and put my burden down. Even
hen, | could have gone bit further,
'ut No. 492 whispered: 'Stop, sir,
ow; it amt no use; | shan't get no
urther. =
laid him down, and saw at glance
hat our journey together was about to
nd. In the moonlight he looked
hastily and wan; and rs | laid him
own, violent fit of coughing came
1fG - n