The weekly Thibodaux sentinel and journal of the 8th Senatorial District. [volume] (Thibodaux, Lna. [i.e. La.]) 1875-1898, 1893-06-03
AT HIS MERCY.
An Americans Adventure with an
Escaped English Convict.

1t was almost dark, and the Walham
river is much overhung in the parts
that lie between Horrabridge and the
old brick works.
In the bed of the river a man stun
bled heavily along, trusting more to
his knowledge of the river than to his
eyesight. He was fishing dexterously
with flies that were almost white-fies
which seemed to suit admirably the
taste of those small brown trout which
never have the sense to leave alone the
fare provided for their larger white
brethren.
Suddenly he hooked a larger fish, and,
not daring to step back beneath the
overnanging oak, he proceeded to tire
his fish out in the deep water. In ten
minutes he brought it to the landing
net, and as he turned to open his creel
his heart leapt in his breast. A man
was standing in the water not two feet
behind him.
"Holloa.!" he gasped.
Il won't insult you by telling you not
to be frightened" said the voice of a
gentleman. There was no installing
it. The speaker stood quite still, with
the water bubbling round his legs. He
was hatless, and his hair was cut quite
short.
A thought flashed across the fisher
mans slow brain. Like the rest of his
craft, he was slower of mind than hand.
Yes" said the other, divining his
thoughts. I'm from Dartmoor. You
probably heard of my escape two days
ago"
YES" replied the other quietly, while
he wound in his line. Il heard of it."
"And where do they say amp"
"Oh, the police have got a clew-as
usual" replied the fisherman.
The escaped convict laughed bitterly.
but the laugh broke off into a sickening
cackle.
I've been in those brick works." he
said, ''all the time meditating murder.
l stole a Loaf from a bakers cart; but a
man cannot live by bread alone-ah!
Ha! hal"
The fisherman held out his flask,
which the other took and opened the
somewhat uncommon silver top with
ease bred of knowledge.
He poured himself out q full glass,
and drank it off.
Il haven't had that taste in my mouth
for four years." he said, returning the
flask. And you are guilty of felony"
The fisherman probably knew this,
for he merely laughed.
The question is" said the convict.
after II pause, during which they had
waded back to the bank, whether you
are going to help me or not? Heavens!
! nearly killed You while you We're
playing that fish,
"Ya-as," drawled the fisherman. 81
take it that you must have beer tempt
ed. | never heard you, owing to the
noise of the water"
They We're both big men, and the con
Wet stared c~uriously into the long,
clean-shaven face of this calm speaker.
A smile actually fickered for a moment
in his desperate eyes.
What | want he said, lis your
macintosh, your waders and your hat
also your red case with a long stick
in it. The handle of your landing-net
Will do. Where do you come FROM"
plymouth. I'm going back by the
7:S0 from Horrabridge."
with a return ticket?"
"Yes."
81 should like that also"
The fisherman was slowly disjointing
his rod.
suppose told You to come and take
'em,' he said, with the drawl again.
The convict looked him up and down
with "a certain air of competent crit.
icism.
Then there would be a very pretty
hight" he said. with q laugh, which he
checked when he detected the SAVIOR OF
the prison yard that was in it.
I'VE haven't time for the fight" said
the fisherman.
And there came q hot gasp of excite