The minister looked up at him in surprise.
"He said exactly the same thing to me this morning," he said, "and in almost identical words; the poor fellow expressed his thoughts in language which seemed unnatural remembering his illiteracy."
"Poor soul," said Ronnie thoughtfully. "Poor lonely, lonely soul!"
He took the minister's arm in his and they walked back to the prison hall. There was a surplice to be shed, devotional books to be packed in a little black bag.
The condemned cell was being turned out by two men in convict's garb. One was using a broom, sweeping with long, leisurely strokes, and his face had a suggestion of sadness. The other was carrying out the remainder of the bedding and washing the utensils which the dead man had used. All this Ronald noticed with a curiously detached interest.
Shepherded back again to the governor's office, there was a form to be signed, testifying that he had witnessed the execution which had been carried out in a proper and decorous manner. Ronald took the pen and hesitated a second before he signed. The appearance of his signature on paper interested him—it was unfamiliar.
"You've seen these executions before, Mr. Morelle?" said the under-sheriff.
"Oh, yes," said Ronald quietly. "I do not think I shall come again. The waste of it, the malice of it!"
"An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth," said the under-sheriff gruffly and Ronald smiled sadly.
"The Old Testament is excellent as literature but in parts diabolical as a code of morals," he said, and went through the porter's lodge to the world.