HE TELEGRAPHED THE NEWS TO MY WARDER, AND BARTON WENT ON HIS WAY REJOICING.
My warder friend supplied me with writing materials. I prepared one letter, which I had him copy, and another in my own handwriting. Both were directed to Barton, and informed him that his rich uncle had lately died and had left him one hundred and sixty thousand pounds in money and sixteen thousand acres of cotton land in India. He was also informed that his father had gone to India to look after the property, and that upon his return a petition would be presented to the Home Secretary, who it was hoped would grant his release. These two letters my warder sent to a friend of mine in London with a note from me requesting him to post them immediately. I told Barton what I had done, at the same time cautioning him to guard the closest secrecy. Two days afterward the letters arrived, and I directed my protege to spread the news as much as possible, to tell all the warders he saw and to show them his letters. We had at that time in the prison a wideawake but tricky fellow named George Smith. He had been clerk to an important firm of auctioneers in London, and had been sentenced by probably the most savage judge on the bench, Commissioner Ker, to fourteen years' imprisonment for receiving a quantity of stolen silverware, which he had his employers sell for him. He was about to be released, and I determined to make use of him, but without letting him know the truth, for I knew that if he suspected he was merely doing a good turn for the chum he left behind him, he, like the Home Secretary himself, without the right kind of inducement would have left his friend to stop where he was until the bottomless pit was frozen over hard enough to hold a barbecue on it. Barton, by my directions, told Smith of his good fortune, and that he hoped on his father's return to be liberated. Smith then did exactly what I expected and wanted him to do. He said there was no need to wait until then; he was going to be released in a few days, and "if you like I will send in a petition for you; it can't do you any harm, and it may get you released immediately." Barton at once accepted the offer, and told him that if successful the post of manager on the Indian estate would be at his disposal. He also suggested to ask me to write the petition. Smith managed to see me in the course of the day, and, supposing me to have no knowledge of the matter, explained the situation and asked me to write the petition. Needless to say, I promised everything asked for, and added that I would make it my business to have the petition in London at some place where he could find it the day of his discharge.
BANK-NOTE STORE-ROOM, BANK OF ENGLAND.
VISITORS AT NEWGATE STANDING OVER THE BURYING-VAULT DOOR LEADING TO THE BLACK-MARIA.
The petition was prepared, setting forth all the interesting facts for the edification of the right honorable gentleman in the Home Office, and after being submitted to Barton and Smith, sent to the latter's address in London.
Millbank is a gigantic prison in the heart of London every one of the thousand cells of which cost the Government £300 to build. This is the establishment where David Copperfield visited Mr. Uriah Heep when that gentleman was under a cloud, and heard him express the wish that "everybody might get 'took up' so that they could learn the error of their ways." For many years all London men whose sentences had expired were brought here for release, and here Smith came a few days after the petition was posted. On the morning of his discharge and within an hour after passing through the gates of Millbank he left the petition personally at the Home Office. Two days afterward one of the clerks acknowledged its receipt, accompanied with the gratifying assurance that it was under consideration. A week later Mr. Smith was notified that the release would be granted. He immediately telegraphed the news to my warder, who told me, and I told Barton. Two days more and the release came down, Barton went on his way rejoicing and every one was glad at his happy fortune. The only one who felt much disappointment was very likely poor Smith, who never heard of his friend again.
SCHOOL AND A TRADE, OR JAIL.