One of the prisoners belonging to the middle yard had mysteriously disappeared—vanished into thin air, as it seemed; not from the yard, which would have been comparatively comprehensible, but from the inside of the ward itself.
The governor threw down his cards and proceeded to the ward, Mr. Sauls and another guest accompanying him. The turnkey explained eagerly how utterly impossible it was for any one not gifted with the power of sliding through keyholes to get out of the room, and yet how equally impossible it was to find a hiding-place in it.
The governor stood stroking his beard, and looking at ceiling, floor and walls consecutively, till suddenly an idea struck him, and he gave the order to pile up wood as high as possible, and light a big fire—with brilliant results.
The refugee bore being smoked so long that the circle round the fire, which was blazing merrily, began to think their quarry was not there; but down he came at last, falling so heavily that they were only just in time to prevent his being badly burnt.
The chimneys had just been grated at the top, but he had nearly filed through the grating, when the smoke, blinding and suffocating him, had loosened his hold, and brought him to earth, giddy and bruised and half unconscious, amid a roar of laughter.
The joke was of a rather brutal order possibly, and entirely one-sided; but the man's blackened face and cut hands appealed to a sense of humour which was coarser then than it is in these "softer" days; and even the governor smiled.
Only one man, one of the prisoners, remarked: "Jack is more nor a little hurt; there ain't no need for that" (as they brought out handcuffs). "He'll no' be able to try again anyway. Eh, take care! his back's injured and that arm's broke."
"He is right. The fellow has fainted," said the governor, bending down to examine him. Every one else was pressing round the sooty figure on the floor; but George turned at the sound of the voice raised on Jack's behalf, and his eyes met the preacher's.
He saw, more clearly than on the Saturday in court, how grey and worn and bowed Barnabas was. A sort of exasperation came over George. It had always made him angry, that, used as he was to rogues, this man's direct glance impressed him against his will. He had not come to Newgate to triumph over the preacher; for all his bitter words, George would hardly have descended to that; but, as they stood face to face, the honesty, he read in spite of himself, acted on him like a challenge. This man had no right to look so good!
"I've found the locket!" George Sauls said suddenly, in a tone so low that, in the general hubbub, only Barnabas heard him; at the same time he watched narrowly to see whether the mask would drop, even for a second. He had meant to startle, and he had succeeded so far; Barnabas started visibly, and was first intensely surprised, then glad.