“No, sir, I don’t think there is anything else, thank you.”
The governor retired.
His visits after this were singularly regular. He came, looked round, made one or two observations, and then departed.
Peace did not dare to ask if Robinson, whom he had shot, was progressing favourably or not, but this was a question he was most anxious about.
If the wounded policeman succumbed to the injuries he had received his assassin would expiate the crime he had committed on the scaffold.
One day he asked one of the warders if Robinson was still alive. The question was answered with a nod only, which signified that he was. This seemed to lift a load off Peace’s heart, and hope dawned again.
After the governor’s diurnal visit all the remanded prisoners were called out and marched off into a stone-paved yard surrounded by high brick walls.
Peace had the strongest possible objection to this arrangement.
He dreaded marching round, as, by so doing, he would run the risk of being detected, and his real identity would become known.
However, he was constrained to follow the instructions given him.