Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1900-09-22

was, quite comfortable on the cushions. 1t
was long, open, thrd-class carriage, with
| rows Of seats in front of him, but no other
passenger. He would be carried out into
| the country; he would slip away from the
carriage as he had slipped in--for he was
quite aware that he was riding without a
| ticket-and then he would run hot foot
across the fields and he home by daybreak.
He did not know at all at what station he
| had got In, but 1t was large that he
thought 1t must be junction, and he reck-
oned that the train must travel far before
| 1t stopped again. He did not want to sleep,
| but he settled himself restfully and closed
| his eyes.
When he opened them again the carriage
was full OF people. and they were all watch
| ing him. Such at least was his first i'm
preston: but when he ventured to take
| stock Of his fellow passengers 1t did not
appear that he was specially observed.
There were women in the carriage. and
their presence thrilled the man who had not
| looked upon womans face for years.
Most Of all was he fascinated by a child in
white frock nursing a doll affectionatefy
| on her knee. He would have given any
thing to speak to her. but he had lived SO
| long in silence, and the dread OF being re-
| ported for word that he scarcely knew
| how to talk. There were men reading
newspapers and others chatting together;
! they were free and had no fear. He liked
all these people; he felt secure among
| them; he did not think they would betray
him.
The train stopped again. and the man
looked out curiouSly for the name Of the
station He did not recognize it, but that
| gave him no unea siness; he was confident
| that all was going right. Then, as the
| train moved out of the station, a sckening
! terror fell on him, for in the other corner
| OF the carriage warder was sitting The
| convict had not seen him get in, but was
| sure he had not been there before.
| The warder was in plain clothes as IL he
We're enjoying an evening off duty, and he
| held a pipe in his hand He did not look
] at the convict.
The convict had a momentary impulse to
| act defiantly, and engage in talk with the
| people near him. as If he were free like
! them. Perhaps this would deceive the war
| der. who might think he had been liberated =.
II was even possible the warder might not
know MIN IN his gentleman's clothes But
| his tongue would not move and his mind
was quite vacant He had run into a world
/ wherein he was totally a stranger: even II
ne were able to talk, he had food for
) conversation; he did not know what was
I happening anywhere. He shrank against
| the door with his face turned to the win
| dow. "
/ The seat opposite to his was emptv md
| the warder moved down the carriage and
| look IT, Now at last he was recognized
| sun the Warder said not word.
| me train rolled slowly on. 1t was not,
| as the convict had persuaded himself II
must be- an express but local train maxi
! ing the tour Of the suburbs When II he
gan 10 siacken speed again the man tried
| - niiisel! Ior rush, but he found
| that MS limbs had no power to obey his
| VIII; he sat under the horrid spell Of the
| Warder opposite and could not move
| The train creaked into the station. and
Stopped and as In dream the man be-
! held his fellow passengers leaving the cor-
| rage one by one, the little girl in the white
| frock, and all of them; he sat and watcbeS
| .nem go, and dared not and could not fol-
| low them. The guard slammed the door
| the train was once more In motion. and the
| man ana the Warder were alone This must
| ing for. 'eeH walt
| give me a lght?" an you
why would people torment him bv ask-
ing Tor things which they must know he
u 20 not possibly possess? A convict has
| no money and no matches; IL a match were
| round on him he would be severely nm
| lshed But this reflection was M Once
driven from his mind by another and much
more vital one 1t was that this warder
| did not belong to the prison from whioh
he had just escaped. That had never strmcn
his thought until the warder spoke. This
| warder was attached to the stan Of a
| great prison In the south, where the run
away mad served three years of his SEN
fence. ferhaps. after all. he had forgot
| ten him; perhaps he did not even know
| him. Ai''"
| NO." the man replied; "he had not 81
match about him." Now, would his voice
| betray him?
Seems to me-" said the warder. look,np
him full in the face. Seems to me / ouehi
| to know you. What's your Nance,
! How horrible the man could not recall
| his own name. This must be fatal, and he
gave himself up for lost.
| You're Darlington, amt you" continual
the warder.
harrington! Charles Barringtoni Yes
that was his name. He nodded.
"Ah. Just 20. Let me see, was It 1--we