He strove in vain to silence the girl by placing his hand over her mouth for the purpose of stifling her cries.
But the attempt proved futile. She was too much alarmed, and her voice was so shrill that it would have awakened one of the seven sleepers.
“Hold your deuced tongue, you little fool!” exclaimed Peace. “Nobody will hurt you.”
But the mischief was already done. It is just possible that the maid might have connived at his escape if she had considered twice about the matter; as it was, he was lost.
He knew and felt this, as the noise of ascending footsteps fell upon his ears.
The governor, with a cohort of prison officials, now entered the apartment.
Peace cut such a rueful figure, and presented altogether such a comical appearance in the governor’s clothes, which were a world too wide for him, in addition to being too long, in this respect resembling two towns on the Continent, namely Toulouse and Toulon, that more than one of the party could not refrain from laughing, the governor first setting the example himself.
“So, sir,” said he, this is how you repay the kindness shown to you—is it?”
“Oh, I am very sorry for what I’ve done,” said Peace, in a whining tone of voice, “but liberty is sweet, and penal servitude is a sore trial. I hope you will take a merciful view of the matter, for I don’t suppose it would have made much difference to anybody if I had got clean away—as it is I am to be pitied.”
“You are a hypocritical, worthless fellow,” observed the governor; “and the sooner we are rid of you the better. You are not worthy of consideration, and as to kindness, it’s thrown away upon you. But whose clothes is the rascal wearing?” he observed, as it suddenly occurred to him that the garments looked very much like his own.