This last observation was made to a warder who had charge of him.

“I don’t know that it is, considering all things,” returned the warder.

“Oh, no; you chaps never do think a cove gets more than he deserves.”

“Well, you see, there were previous convictions against you—​that’s why you’ve got it so hot.”

“I was driven to it. Business was bad, and I was without a mag.”

“That’s no reason for laying your hands upon other people’s property,” suggested the warder; “but I don’t want to pain you by my reproaches. I am sorry for your misfortune—​sorry for your wife and child’s sake.”

“Thank you, sir; you are very good, I’m sure,” observed Mrs. Peace, wiping the fast-falling tears from her swollen eyelids.

“It is not the man only who suffers—​it is his family,” said the warder. “They are to be pitied the most.”

“What’s the use of pity?” cried Peace. “Did you ever know it do any good? It aint worth a rap—​pity indeed. No one will help her or me—​not that I know of.”

“I hope there is some one. Have you any friends?” This last observation was addressed to the woman.