Mr. Eden bowed.
“And meantime,” put in Mr. Williams, “we shall probably suspend you this very day by our authority.” Mr. Eden bowed.
“We will not detain you any longer, sir,” said Williams, rather insolently.
“I will but stay to say one word to this gentleman, who has conducted himself with courtesy toward me. Sir, for your own sake do not enter on this contest with me; it is an unequal one. A boy has just been murdered in this prison. I am about to drag his murderer into the light; why hang upon his skirts and compel me to expose you to public horror as his abettor? There is yet time to disown the fell practices of—hell!” He looked at his watch. “There is half an hour. Do not waste it in acts which our superiors will undo. See here are the prison rules; a child could understand them. A child could see that what you call 'the discipline' is a pure invention of the present jailer, and contradicts the discipline as by law established, and consequently that Josephs and others have been murdered by this lawless man. These are the prison rules, are they not? and here are the jailer's proceedings in the month of January—compare the two, and separate your honorable name from the contact of this caitiff, whose crimes will gibbet him in the nation's eyes, and you with him, unless you seize this chance and withdraw your countenance from him.”
The three injustices rose by one impulse. “Make your preparations to leave the jail,” said Mr. Woodcock.
“Half an hour is quite enough under the circumstances,” said Williams.
Palmer stood aghast—his mind was not fast enough to keep up.
Mr. Eden bowed and retired. He was scarcely out of the room when the justices drew up an order for his suspension from his office.
Mr. Hawes was next sent for.
“We have found the chaplain all you described him. Discipline is impossible with such a man; here is an order for his suspension.” Hawes's eyes sparkled. “We will enter it into the book, meantime you are to see it executed.” Hawes went out, but presently returned.