'I know how he lets himself be made a prisoner, and that it was a chance whether any one saw the poor fellow at all.'
'I am so glad'—and Ethel turned on him a face still flushed, but now with gratitude. 'How was he looking?'
'The costume is not becoming, and he has lost colour and grown hollow-eyed; but I saw no reason for being uneasy about him; he looked clear and in health, and has not got to slouch yet. It is shocking to see such a grand face and head behind a grating.'
'Could he talk'?
'Why, the presence of a warder is against conversation, and six months of shoe-making in a cell does not give much range of ideas. There was nothing to be done but to talk on right ahead and judge by his eyes if he liked it.'
'I suppose you could find out nothing about himself?'
'He said he got on very well; but one does not know that means. I asked if he got books; and he said there was a very good library, and he could get what gave him something to think of; and he says they give interesting lectures in school.'
'You could not gather what is thought of him?'
'No; I saw but a couple of officers of the place, and could only get out of them "good health and good conduct." I do not expect even his conduct makes much impression as to his innocence, for I saw it stated the other day that the worst prisoners are those that are always getting convicted for petty offences; those that have committed one great crime are not so depraved, and are much more amenable. However, he has only three months more at Pentonville, and then he will go to Portland, Chatham, or Gibraltar.'
'Oh, I hope it will not be Gibraltar! But at least that terrible solitude will be over.'