Rufus Dawes had been a fortnight at the settlement when a new-comer appeared on the chain-gang. This was a young man of about twenty years of age, thin, fair, and delicate. His name was Kirkland, and he belonged to what were known as the “educated” prisoners. He had been a clerk in a banking1 house, and was transported for embezzlement2, though, by some, grave doubts as to his guilt3 were entertained. The Commandant, Captain Burgess, had employed him as butler in his own house, and his fate was considered a “lucky” one. So, doubtless, it was, and might have been, had not an untoward4 accident occurred. Captain Burgess, who was a bachelor of the “old school”, confessed to an amiable6 weakness for blasphemy7, and was given to condemning8 the convicts’ eyes and limbs with indiscriminate violence. Kirkland belonged to a Methodist family and owned a piety9 utterly10 out of place in that region. The language of Burgess made him shudder11, and one day he so far forgot himself and his place as to raise his hands to his ears. “My blank!” cried Burgess. “You blank blank, is that your blank game? I’ll blank soon cure you of that!” and forthwith ordered him to the chain-gang for “insubordination”.
He was received with suspicion by the gang, who did not like white-handed prisoners. Troke, by way of experiment in human nature, perhaps, placed him next to Gabbett. The day was got through in the usual way, and Kirkland felt his heart revive.
The toil12 was severe, and the companionship uncouth13, but despite his blistered14 hands and aching back, he had not experienced anything so very terrible after all. When the muster15 bell rang, and the gang broke up, Rufus Dawes, on his silent way to his separate cell, observed a notable change of custom in the disposition16 of the new convict. Instead of placing him in a cell by himself, Troke was turning him into the yard with the others.
“I’m not to go in there?” says the ex-bank clerk, drawing back in dismay from the cloud of foul17 faces which lowered upon him.
“By the Lord, but you are, then!” says Troke. “The Governor says a night in there’ll take the starch18 out of ye. Come, in yer go.”
“But, Mr. Troke —”
“Stow your gaff,” says Troke, with another oath, and impatiently striking the lad with his thong19 —“I can’t argue here all night. Get in.” So Kirkland, aged20 twenty-two, and the son of Methodist parents, went in.
Rufus Dawes, among whose sinister21 memories this yard was numbered, sighed. So fierce was the glamour22 of the place, however, that when locked into his cell, he felt ashamed for that sigh, and strove to erase23 the memory of it. “What is he more than anybody else?” said the wretched man to himself, as he hugged his misery25 close.
About dawn the next morning, Mr. North — who, amongst other vagaries26 not approved of by his bishop27, had a habit of prowling about the prison at unofficial hours — was attracted by a dispute at the door of the dormitory.
“What’s the matter here?” he asked.
“A prisoner refractory28, your reverence29,” said the watchman. “Wants to come out.”
“Mr. North! Mr. North!” cried a voice, “for the love of God, let me out of this place!”
Kirkland, ghastly pale, bleeding, with his woollen shirt torn, and his blue eyes wide open with terror, was clinging to the bars.
“Oh, Mr. North! Mr. North! Oh, Mr. North! Oh, for God’s sake, Mr. North!”
“What, Kirkland!” cried North, who was ignorant of the vengeance30 of the Commandant. “What do you do here?”
But Kirkland could do nothing but cry,—“Oh, Mr. North! For God’s sake, Mr. North!” and beat on the bars with white and sweating hands.
“Let him out, watchman!” said North.
“Can’t sir, without an order from the Commandant.”
“I order you, sir!” North cried, indignant.
“Very sorry, your reverence; but your reverence knows that I daren’t do such a thing.” “Mr. North!” screamed Kirkland. “Would you see me perish, body and soul, in this place? Mr. North! Oh, you ministers of Christ — wolves in sheep’s clothing — you shall be judged for this!”
“Let him out!” cried North again, stamping his foot.
“It’s no good,” returned the gaoler. “I can’t. If he was dying, I can’t.”
North rushed away to the Commandant, and the instant his back was turned, Hailes, the watchman, flung open the door, and darted31 into the dormitory.
“Take that!” he cried, dealing32 Kirkland a blow on the head with his keys, that stretched him senseless. “There’s more trouble with you bloody33 aristocrats34 than enough. Lie quiet!”
The Commandant, roused from slumber35, told Mr. North that Kirkland might stop where he was, and that he’d thank the chaplain not to wake him up in the middle of the night because a blank prisoner set up a blank howling.
“But, my good sir,” protested North, restraining his impulse to overstep the bounds of modesty36 in his language to his superior officer, “you know the character of the men in that ward5. You can guess what that unhappy boy has suffered.”
“Impertinent young beggar!” said Burgess. “Do him good, curse him! Mr. North, I’m sorry you should have had the trouble to come here, but will you let me go to sleep?”
North returned to the prison disconsolately37, found the dutiful Hailes at his post, and all quiet.
“What’s become of Kirkland?” he asked.
“Fretted hisself to sleep, yer reverence,” said Hailes, in accents of parental38 concern. “Poor young chap! It’s hard for such young ’uns.”
In the morning, Rufus Dawes, coming to his place on the chain-gang, was struck by the altered appearance of Kirkland. His face was of a greenish tint39, and wore an expression of bewildered horror.
“Cheer up, man!” said Dawes, touched with momentary40 pity. “It’s no good being in the mopes, you know.”
“What do they do if you try to bolt?” whispered Kirkland.
“Kill you,” returned Dawes, in a tone of surprise at so preposterous41 a question.
“Thank God!” said Kirkland.
“Now then, Miss Nancy,” said one of the men, “what’s the matter with you!” Kirkland shuddered42, and his pale face grew crimson43.
“Oh,” he said, “that such a wretch24 as I should live!”
“Silence!” cried Troke. “No. 44, if you can’t hold your tongue I’ll give you something to talk about. March!”
The work of the gang that afternoon was the carrying of some heavy logs to the water-side, and Rufus Dawes observed that Kirkland was exhausted44 long before the task was accomplished45. “They’ll kill you, you little beggar!” said he, not unkindly. “What have you been doing to get into this scrape?”
“Have you ever been in that — that place I was in last night?” asked Kirkland.
Rufus Dawes nodded.
“Does the Commandant know what goes on there?”
“I suppose so. What does he care?”
“Care! Man, do you believe in a God?” “No,” said Dawes, “not here. Hold up, my lad. If you fall, we must fall over you, and then you’re done for.”
He had hardly uttered the words, when the boy flung himself beneath the log. In another instant the train would have been scrambling46 over his crushed body, had not Gabbett stretched out an iron hand, and plucked the would-be suicide from death.
“Hold on to me, Miss Nancy,” said the giant, “I’m big enough to carry double.”
Something in the tone or manner of the speaker affected47 Kirkland to disgust, for, spurning48 the offered hand, he uttered a cry and then, holding up his irons with his hands, he started to run for the water.
“Halt! you young fool,” roared Troke, raising his carbine. But Kirkland kept steadily49 on for the river. Just as he reached it, however, the figure of Mr. North rose from behind a pile of stones. Kirkland jumped for the jetty, missed his footing, and fell into the arms of the chaplain.
“You young vermin — you shall pay for this,” cries Troke. “You’ll see if you won’t remember this day.”
“Oh, Mr. North,” says Kirkland, “why did you stop me? I’d better be dead than stay another night in that place.”
“You’ll get it, my lad,” said Gabbett, when the runaway50 was brought back. “Your blessed hide’ll feel for this, see if it don’t.”
Kirkland only breathed harder, and looked round for Mr. North, but Mr. North had gone. The new chaplain was to arrive that afternoon, and it was incumbent51 on him to be at the reception. Troke reported the ex-bank clerk that night to Burgess, and Burgess, who was about to go to dinner with the new chaplain, disposed of his case out of hand. “Tried to bolt, eh! Must stop that. Fifty lashes52, Troke. Tell Macklewain to be ready — or stay, I’ll tell him myself — I’ll break the young devil’s spirit, blank him.”
“Yes, sir,” said Troke. “Good evening, sir.”
“Troke — pick out some likely man, will you? That last fellow you had ought to have been tied up himself. His flogging wouldn’t have killed a flea53.”
“You can’t get ’em to warm one another, your honour,” says Troke.
“They won’t do it.”
“Oh, yes, they will, though,” says Burgess, “or I’ll know the reason why. I won’t have my men knocked up with flogging these rascals54. If the scourger55 won’t do his duty, tie him up, and give him five-and-twenty for himself. I’ll be down in the morning myself if I can.”
“Very good, your honour,” says Troke.
Kirkland was put into a separate cell that night; and Troke, by way of assuring him a good night’s rest, told him that he was to have “fifty” in the morning. “And Dawes’ll lay it on,” he added. “He’s one of the smartest men I’ve got, and he won’t spare yer, yer may take your oath of that.”
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1
banking
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| n.银行业，银行学，金融业 | |
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embezzlement
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| n.盗用，贪污 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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untoward
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| adj.不利的，不幸的，困难重重的 | |
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ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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blasphemy
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| n.亵渎，渎神 | |
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condemning
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| v.（通常因道义上的原因而）谴责( condemn的现在分词 )；宣判；宣布…不能使用；迫使…陷于不幸的境地 | |
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piety
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| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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blistered
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| adj.水疮状的，泡状的v.（使）起水泡( blister的过去式和过去分词 )；（使表皮等）涨破，爆裂 | |
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muster
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| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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starch
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| n.淀粉；vt.给...上浆 | |
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thong
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| n.皮带；皮鞭；v.装皮带 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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glamour
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| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
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erase
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| v.擦掉；消除某事物的痕迹 | |
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wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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vagaries
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| n.奇想( vagary的名词复数 )；异想天开；异常行为；难以预测的情况 | |
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bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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refractory
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| adj.倔强的，难驾驭的 | |
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reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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aristocrats
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| n.贵族( aristocrat的名词复数 ) | |
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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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disconsolately
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| adv.悲伤地，愁闷地；哭丧着脸 | |
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parental
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| adj.父母的；父的；母的 | |
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tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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preposterous
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| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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spurning
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| v.一脚踢开，拒绝接受( spurn的现在分词 ) | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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runaway
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| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
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incumbent
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| adj.成为责任的，有义务的；现任的，在职的 | |
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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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flea
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| n.跳蚤 | |
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rascals
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| 流氓( rascal的名词复数 )； 无赖； （开玩笑说法）淘气的人（尤指小孩）； 恶作剧的人 | |
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scourger
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