“I’m blest if I can read it now I have got it,” murmured the prisoner, as he stepped into the other carriage which was to convey him to Dartmoor; “but there’s some of ’em as can.”
The train had not proceeded very far on its journey before the man drew forth his prize.
“I say, mates, I’ve got a newspaper. Will any on you read it out loud for the benefit of all of us? Please, sir, you won’t object to it, please,” he said, touching his cap and addressing the officer in charge.
“You know as well as I do that it is against the rules,” replied the officer, “but as it has been given to you, and you are not now inside the walls of the prison, I consent.”
“Ah, thank you, sir—thank you,” cried several.
The young man to whom allusion has already been made was asked to read aloud for the benefit of the other prisoners. He was the best educated man of the whole party, some of whom could not read at all, while others could read but imperfectly.
The paper in question was a Sunday morning edition of one of the weeklies.
It contained reports of the trials at the Middlesex and Surrey Sessions, and the young man began at these, after which he read a portion of the police reports, then his eye lighted on a line in broad-faced type, “The Murder in Larchgrove Lane; Examination and Committal of the Prisoner.”
“Eh, what’s that?” cried Peace. “In what lane?”
“Larchgrove.”