“He’s got on your clothes, sir,” said one of the warders.
“Upon my word, his impudence exceeds all bounds,” cried the governor in a fury.
“I couldn’t find any others to put on,” whined Peace. I’ll take them off at once.”
He began to undress, slipped out of the garments in question, and put on his prison attire.
“Has he any accomplices?” inquired the governor.
“I think not, sir,” answered Davis.
“I have a great mind to recommend a sound flogging.”
“Oh, pray don’t, sir; I ask your pardon. Pray have pity on me, if you please. I declare most positively that I intended to lead a new life, to reform, if I had got back into the world, and I intend to do so, under any circumstances. I pledge my word as to this.”
“Your word!” exclaimed the governor, in ineffable disgust. “Your word, indeed! There, take him away; place him in one of the refractory cells.”
Upon hearing these words Peace made a most piteous appeal to the governor, who, in reply, told him that he might think himself fortunate at being spared a flogging.