He glanced at these, and then proceeded to call out the names, which the prisoners answered to, some in a jaunty, and others in a quiet tone and manner.
Having satisfied himself that the requisite number of culprits were then and there present, he folded up the papers in a mechanical manner.
When this ceremony had been gone through the new arrivals were conducted to their quarters.
The cadaverous-looking man was the first to be removed. He looked so weak, so borne down, that even the officials regarded him with something like compassion. To their credit we must record that they treated him with kindness and consideration—that is, as far as the rigid prison discipline would allow.
Peace was told to follow a warder. The bumps on his head were still very painful, and, taken altogether, he presented a most pitiable and abject appearance. He said to his janitor, as they went along, that he had been most cruelly used, and told him, moreover, that he was perfectly innocent of the charge upon which he had been committed.
The warder was so accustomed to hear statements of a similar character from prisoners that he did not take much heed of Peace’s declaration of innocence.
He merely nodded, and ushered his prisoner into a stone cellar-like place, where there were a number of small rooms with baths in them.
Peace was directed to enter one and undress. He obeyed without making any observation, knowing well enough, from his former experience of prison life, that it would be useless to offer any objection.
When he had undressed his clothes were taken from him, and underwent a careful scrutiny—the pockets in the garments were turned out, and all prohibited articles removed.
All this was done in a methodical, systematical way. An inventory of these things was taken, and Peace was told that any of his friends, on calling to see him, might take them away.