"I see that you are, and I am glad that you have a better opportunity to find out what it is, than I do."
The moment that Mrs. Hardhack was out of the prison, that night, the convicts commenced hooting and whistling. If she did not put Haggerton up, directly, to play off on me, which I strongly suspected, her behavior was calculated to encourage their conduct.
I was a new Matron, this was my first night alone, and they would try me, to see what stuff I was made of.
If Mrs. Hardhack had instigated their conduct, the punishment would come upon them, not her. It was my business to suppress the noise, and to detect those who were engaged in making it.
I drew my feet from my slippers, and commenced my search for the culprits.
It was made a short one by the assistance of one of the sweeps who hated Mrs. Hardhack, and would do anything to thwart her—even betray a fellow-prisoner.
She pointed me to one of the doors from whence the whistling came. I crept softly along, in the shade, and stood by the next door a moment. The girl, unconscious that I was near, gave another shrill call.
"That is you, is it, Kate Connolly?" I said, close to her ear.
She burst into tears at the sound of my voice. Her imagination at once brought before her the long aching induced by solitary confinement. It was far from an agreeable prospect to look forward to.
"I'm sorry! indeed I am!"