The Fulton County news. [volume] (McConnellsburg, Pa.) 1899-current, 1905-03-08
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undispersed by sunrise
I=Ol hung thick. obliterating all
ks9u l9lI traces of the prison build.
ings from the roads, where
several ships of the channel squadron
lay at anchor and also from the strag
Cling row Of houses at the base of the
northwest slope.
In the prison itself there was no
light as yet save in the corridors. up
and down which the eyer-alert wardens
paced monotonously to and fro. In
most Of the cells the prisoners slept
tired out with the previous days hew.
ing OF stone and uncongenlal tasks:
but in one the occupant, man OF
thirU-ive good-looking in spite OF
prison garb, close-cropped hair, and
the ravages Of toll and despair, lay on
his bed awake.
A little more than ten years ago he
had stood in the dock of a west of
England city listening to n Judge with
hard voice, though with kindly eyes.
pronouncing sentence of fifteen years
penal seryitude. All that an eloquent
counsel could do had been done for
him, but to no avail The evidence
seemed concluslvely damnatory, and
the foreman of the jury, after an alb
sence Of half an hour, answered
guilty to the usual question with a
ring of conviction in his voice The
judges words to Thomas Harborde
fell on deaf ears. He stood stupidity
Of
back of the court in company of a
sweetfaced old lady rs though he saw
nothing.
At last warder touched him on the
shoulder, and the same instant n pite-
Gus cry of, 30, Toni Toni They're
going to take you away from me-" rang
out in the court, over which the dusk
of late afternoon was creeping. grad
ually blotting out the features Of those
who sat at all in shadow. The prisoner
turned round as though about to say
something to the judge on the bench,
and then, led by the warder, he van
ished down the dock stairs to the cells,
to be known no longer as Thomas Har-
horde, but by various numbers: At
Portland convict prison as "No. 27."
The sense of innocence brought him
no need Of satisfaction; It merely filled
him with desperate wrath and blackest
despair. In the early period of his
solitary confinement he found himself
confronted day in and out with the
crushing sense of legions of hours,
minutes and seconds before he could
hope to be free man-if ever he were
TO be one again. BY good conduct
against the very thought of which he
at first rebelled, refusing to accept any
boon at the hands of fate-he might
reduce these years to two-thirds maybe.
What then, millions of seconds. each
one to him, a prisoner, an apprecable
part of life; hundreds of thousands Of
leaden-footed minutes. each one filed
with poignant despair, must pass ere
the time Of release drew near. At
work, under the scorchinG sun or in the
keen air of winter, in the Quarries it
was all the same. These hours and
minutes became embodied in the per-
sons of the warders and fellow.prison-
ers, in the presence of his chains.
From q possibly dangerous man he
became almost an inanimate machine:
a mere cogwheel i'm the round Of daily
toll and prison discipline. At first he
attacked the stone MS though he We're
revenglng his wrongs upon human flesh
and blood; at last he fooled it with the
unthinking regularity Of an automaton.
1t takes n year or two to trample the
human element out of n man of Har-
borde's type; but the effect of stone
walls, silence and brutalzed compan-
ions, If slow, is none the less sure.
Only in his case he became an automa-
ton instead Of an animal.
Through the long December night.
while the mist enshrouded Portland
and restricted the range Of lights at the
Bill to half n mile or less, and while
the sirens resounded from the light
house gallery almost continuously, an
swered family by others from vessels
far out at sea, or booming harshly
from others near at hand, -Iarhorde
lay awake reckoning the weeks, days.
hours and minutes which comprised
the remaining two years Of his term.
He had just dropped of into n half
sleeping condition when his cell door
opened, and instead Of the hard face
Of the warder come 70 tell him to tidy
mp, he saw the governor and chaplain.
with the warder IN the background.
What could 1t mean? He sprang IN.
rubbing his eyes, and almost before
he knew what was happening the gov
ernor had told him in few words
that he had received the Queon's par
don, and then proceeded 70 read the
same. What did it all mean? 30
other thought germinated in his duled
brain. Free. Free to 90 where he
willed! Free to walk out Of the Jail
gates! Never 10 return within the
stone walls which had shut him IN
from the outside world, rs surely MS
though no other world than that con
tanned within them existed
The prison bell changed. startling
him into state of wakefulucss. The
governor had finished readirg the Of
fciallooking paper, ard with the con-
cluslon OF the formal part OF his duty
he added n few words OF c0nc:atula-
tion. IIarborde seemed 10 have m
comprehension Of their meaning. He
remained standing IN the centre Of the
narrow cell speechess. At last the
chaplain made him understand the Inn
port Of the document which had Just