Evening star., 1901-02-02

IN for it. fancy we had better accept her
majestys charity for the time she has been
good enough to impose it on US.
1T don't seem quite the square thing.
She's gettu' on in years. an got blame
expensive family. an you an mes a-fat-
TENN on her victuais. I'm putin on flesh
myself and who's a-feedin' me? Whose
table am l robbin'? ?'
so you're going to try 1t then. Well,
what's your plan?"
Il amt ezacAly fitted out the expedition.
matey, but I'm a'studying the chart.
These Sunday talks have been diSallowed
perhaps not quite without reason.
Fairfax did not much believe in "Old''
Remnants project. for the impregna biliiy
OF Longstaff was a kind of proverb in all II.
NJ. prisons; but the face of that able our
giar and prison breaker was very studioIs
he sat in his cell through the afternoon
of Sunday. with the Bible across his knees.
"Old" Remnant aware that every
chance was against him. but he had seen
fl eedom in vision and he could see moth
ing else. This fierce freedom hunger Is the
chief disease of convict prisons. and all the
prison people know it well, from the gIv-
ernor down to the commonest little sneak
of convict in his keeping. Day and
night the lag hopes and pines for liberty:
there is nothing but this longing, and the
dull hope of it's fulfiment that solaces his
bondage For the years do not roll with
him, they trail and slug along, and seem
perpetually to lose their course. as If some
cruel hand put back the clock a little aud
a little every day. But most prisoners lack
the energy, and yet greater number lack
the courage that is wanted for the great at
tempt For prison breaking Is not what II
was. a Cellini, Casanova, Trenck.
Latude a Sheppard could scarcely eat kis
way out of the thin modern prison that is
watched and haunted al every point, mo-
ment by moment through every hour of The
twenty-four. But-old prisons or new pris-
onS-every prison has its master. Bastile
or pound. there is always one genius who
has the open sesame.
old Remnant knew that he had the
freedom hunger very badly. and knew that
ii would get the better Of him. When it
Enawed like this, he had always made his
rush; and three times he had succeeded,
but here, for the first time, he had neither
plan nor inspiration; he ignorant of
eN erything that to come. His time was
at hand for another leap at the bars: he
must make that leap; but intuition lighted
him no farther.
At bedtime he was as empty Of ideas as
at dinner time and he wanted another
twelve hours for quiet meditation He had
| thought out mis- last escape in q punishment
| cell at Chatham. On the Monday morning,
accordingly, he refused to muster for
| chapel, and was promptly marched to
''chokey."
I'm get it here" said "Old" Remnant. as
| the door closed upon him in the dark cell.
III.
The BelI.
Boom went the bell. the great bell in tho
tower; ana l,SU conVlctS, less one, sat
bolt up In their hammocks and listened.
Not warder patrolling his hall in felt
shoes. lantern In hand. but stood and lis
| tened to the bell No sound ever moves
the prison that does. for the angry mes
sage of the bell was this: prisoner es-
capedr
| 1t was perfectly dark in the cells, so, be-
| ing mid July, 1t could be nowhere near the
morning; who had got clear in that short
span of darkness?'
| Fairfax alone. perhaps. OWNED Alright
! Every warder on night duty glanced
| nervously at the cells around and above
| him. He knew that in each of those cells
| convict was sitting up. wlde-eyed and
| with both ears straining; and while that
| bell changing none could tell what
next might happen.
! Happy the warder who could say, 1T
amt one of my birds!'
| No prisoner burst quit his hammock. no
| warder could leave his hall until the door
| was unlocked from the other side by the
| officer of the morning.
But every hall was silent and secure, yet
| still the bell kept shrieking. Prisoner es-
/ capped. Prisoner esca-a-aped.'