The sun., 1893-02-16
CHAPTER III.

Iebu ttkLOOu WAUh AAO
came to, his first confused utteranoe
would give them the clue they wanted.
"It is not a horrible dream, then"
muttered poor Mr.. Widgery, staring
about him, sit is the dread truth /
have been taken and shall be hanged"
And he turned his face to the pillow
and wept. He remained in that posi-
tion until the chaplain gently shook
him by the shoulder.
"Come, come! You are in the hands
of friends, Who are you, and where
do you come from?"
At this Mr.. Widgery without reveal
ing his face pricked up his ears. What
else could the words imply, but that
at present he was not suspected
of the crime of which he knew too
we'll that he was guilty? How then
was the present condition of affairs
to be accounted for. And in order to
give himself time to reflect on the
matter Mr.. Widgery, still with his face
on the pillow, feigned to have lapsed
into insensibility again. Gradually
his memory returned to him and in q
panoramic kind of way there was re-
vealed to him all that had occurred
from the time he made his way from
his obscure lodging down to the beach
for an early dip in the sea. He re-
membered undressing and .depositing
his clothes in the shelter of q cliff and
entering the water and emerging there
from to find what? A suit of clothes
unmistakably those of q Iconvict and
presumably an escaped one, and in
which with no other alternative but
nudity he had attired himself. Mr..
Widgery recollected struggling up the
cliff path toward the village and then
came blow as though of a thunder
bolt and oblivion.
Putting this and that together he
could no longer doubt what had
happened.
He had been picked up in an uncon-
in mistake for the convict whose
clothes he was found wearing when it
was discovered by the authorities
that he was the wrong man. Mr..
Widgery was convinced that he had
unravelled the mystery so far. But
what was he to do? 1t would never
do to volunteer an explanation. That
would involve his confessing who he
really was and why he had fled from
London, which would beequivalent to
acknowledging that though he was not
entitled to the Identical suit he was
found wearing he was well qualified
for one of a similar pattern. He had
best say as little as possible until he
had gained O. little more enlighten-
ment. Presently the chaplain shook
him by the shoulder, and he turned
over and faced them.
''Let me advise you to listen to rea-
son, my friend" returned thereverend
gentleman kindly. "That you are not
| the man we expected to find you we
now know well enough. The simple
| question you have to answer is-Who
are your"
Mr.. Widgery passed his hand be-
wilderedly across his forehead.
"Who am II" he repeated.
"Yes, and where do you come
from?" put in the prison governor,
sharply. "You will have to own up,
you know, and you had best do so at
once. You will gain nothing by con-
cealment. Indeed, may tell you
that you may involve yourself in very
serious difficulty by persisting in keep
ing silence"
"My good sir" returned Mr.. Wild
gerry, mildly, II have not the slightest
idea of what you mean. It is not
possible for you to be more in need OF
enlightenment than I am at the pres
ent time. Perhaps you will permit
me to ask you a question or two.
Who brought me here; and what do
you require Of me now am here"
"That can do in few words. Tell
me what has become of the convict,
Peter Wimble?"
"I give you my word of honor, sir, -
returned Mr.. Widgery, "that I have
no knowledge of any such person"
"That is madman's answer. You
were found wearing the convict's
clothes" ..
Instantlyit flashed to Mr.. Widgery's e
mind that he might, under the circum.
stances, do worse than sham aberra-
tion of intellect.
II don't know what you are talking
about" he remarked, "but, speaking
OF clothes, why the deuce don't you
bring me mine, and let me get up and
dress myself"
The Governor whispered to the chiei
warder, and in q few minutes a suit
decorated with bread arrows was pro
duced.
''Are these your clothes?"
"Why of course they are"
Chow long have they belonged tc
your"
"Why, ever since | had them made
to measure, long, long time ago" re
piled Mr.. Widgery, with apparent i'm
agination. "Whohas been telling you
that they are not my clothesS"
'"Then your nameis Peter Wimble?'
He frowned re6ectively, and tapped
his bandaged head with his forefngel
"Wimble, Wimble," he repeated
"the name seems somehow familiar
to me, 'Pon my life, now you remind
me, | believe my name is Wimble
But don't undertake to swear it
mind. It is such long time since
was christened."
At this point the prison doctor in
terfered.
"My dear sir" ewhispered aside tt
the Governor, sit is quite useless
questioning him further at present
The severe injury his skull has receiv
ed has disturbed the brain, and he il
not responsible for what he says. HI
had best be left undisturbed for fey
days"
Meanwhile, Mr.. Peter Wimble wa
not idle. No butterfly newly released
from the chrysalis state was eve
more gaily disposed TO enjoy itself
From the lowermost depths of de
spair. by the merest wanton Whit @
good fortune, he had been raised t,
what, to him, was the seventh heavel
Of happiness One day a miserabl
wretch, escaped from captivity t,
which death itself were almost prefer
able, hiding in holes and caves like
hunted beast, and with no
the remotest hopes Of gettin
clear off, unless he was enable
to change his prison branded sui
for another-and where. was it t
come from, unless" as he griml
said to himself, "the man in the moo
takes compassion on me and drop