As we have, in a previous chapter, given a full detail of the proceedings in the chapel of a prison, it will not be necessary to repeat the same in this place.
It is certain, however, that in chapel and at other places in the gaol opportunities are afforded of prisoners conversing, and it is equally certain that “old lags,” on coming into contact with first offenders, delight in polluting their minds.
In due course the chaplain paid a visit to Peace. He was urbane and kind in his manner, asked the prisoner a variety of questions, and it is needless to say that Peace pretended to be contrite, and expressed his regret for having been led into error. He did not say he had been a criminal for the greater part of his life, but he assumed a sanctimonious air. But the chaplain of Newgate, although uniformly kind to those under his spiritual care, had too much penetration to be deceived by Peace’s hypocrisy.
No man could by possibility be more fitted for the office than this gentleman. Few men have the gift of dropping in a few words of seasonable advice, judiciously mingled with reproof, than this gentleman.
When Peace regained his cell, after the service was over, he received a visit from the governor duly attended, like any other commander-in-chief, by his aide-de-camp.
He regarded Peace with a scrutinising glance, and inquired if he wanted anything.
“I want to see my friends as soon as possible, and my solicitor to arrange for my defence,” said our hero.
“Very well, that is but natural. Write to them and you can have an interview on the next visiting day.”
“I have written,” cried Peace. “I hope the letter was sent off.”
“It was,” observed the governor, sententiously. “Anything else?”