"Ah, well, if one can't get what one wants, one must want what one can get," said George; and that soothing and virtuous-sounding maxim meant (just then) that, having been denied the satisfaction of love, he was making the most of the satisfaction of hate.
"I generally do make the most of what I can get," he added cheerfully. "It answers very well. Good-night. Don't be sorry for people, mother; it's a mistake, and a great waste of power. Go to sleep comfortably, and don't fret."
CHAPTER IX.
Lead me, O Zeus, and thou, Destiny, whithersoever ye have appointed me to go, and may I follow fearlessly. But, if in an evil mind I be unwilling, still must I follow.
—Epictetus.
But honest men's words are Stygian oaths, and promises inviolable.
—Sir Thomas Browne.
George Sauls was enjoying himself in Newgate. Not that he had either fallen foul of the law, or been seized with the prevailing fashionable craze that made the old prison a sensational sight for fine ladies and gentlemen just then. He was playing cards in the infirmary, where the political prisoners, whom justice treated tenderly and with great respect of person, were making as merry as circumstances and the easy politeness of the governor allowed. That official's own servants waited on them, and the governor himself had taken a hand at whist.
It was Sunday, and George wondered lazily whether Barnabas Thorpe was preaching on eternal flames to those "unfortunate devils" who had been sentenced to death during the preceding week. He wondered a good deal about his enemy, finding it a puzzle, perhaps, to piece together the preacher's actions, so as to make them form one consistent whole of hypocrisy. George very naturally preferred to believe the man thoroughly bad; it "simplified matters," as old Mr. Russelthorpe had remarked to him years before. But he was not in the habit of letting himself be hoodwinked by a personal feeling, even in this case; and his reason gave him some trouble.
He wondered how Barnabas would look when the diamonds were produced; and, in spite of himself, failed when he tried to picture shame or guilt on the preacher's face. He was to have a chance of satisfying his curiosity sooner than he expected.
That particular Sunday was marked by an attempted escape, which caused some amusement to the governor and the prison officials, and the end of which George witnessed.