“Quite a liberal diet,” remarked the superintendent, as I returned the card.
“And is my brother really doing hard labour?”
“Oh, yes; he is a fine muscular young fellow, the exercise will be good for him. Just at the moment he is pounding coco-nuts with a wooden mallet. After a time, if he conducts himself well, he will be made a convict warder.”
“What is that?”
“He is given authority over the other prisoners, and does no work himself. He preserves discipline, is among the convicts day and night, and has charge of his own ward. Of course he receives no pay and wears the prison dress; eats the same food, and is subject to discipline himself. Being an educated man, your brother, if he behaves well, is bound to get a billet either as warder, or to keep the jail books, or superintend the carpenters’ shops.”
“How soon will he get one of these posts?” I inquired.
“Not for some time, I’m afraid.”
“When may I see him?”
“In about ten weeks. Every three months prisoners are allowed to receive visitors.”
“Ten weeks!” I repeated. “Oh, do let me have one word with him now; do, I implore you.”