He then walked away and I returned to my cell. The female warder was weeping silently, but I was calm and spent the early part of the night in my usual prayers. About midnight exhausted nature could bear no more, and I fainted. I had barely regained consciousness when I heard the shuffle of feet outside, the click of the key in the lock—that warning catch in the slow machinery of my doom. I sprang up, and with one supreme effort of will braced myself for what I believed was the last act of my life. The governor and a chaplain entered, followed by a warder. They read my expectation in my face, and the governor, hastening forward, exclaimed in an agitated voice: “It is well; it is good news!” When I opened my eyes once more I was lying in bed in the hospital, and I remained there until I was taken to Woking Convict Prison.
CHAPTER THREE
In Solitary Confinement
Removal to Woking Prison
On the morning of the 29th of August I was hastily awakened by a female warder, who said that orders had come down from the Home Office for my removal that day to a convict prison.
When I left, the governor was standing at the gate, and, with a kindliness of voice which I deeply appreciated, told me to be brave and good.
A crowd was in waiting at the station. I was roughly hustled through it into a third-class carriage.
The only ray of light that penetrated those dark hours of my journey came from an American woman. God bless her, whoever she is or wherever she is! At every station that the train stopped she got out and came to the carriage door and spoke words of sympathy and comfort. She was the first of my countrywomen to voice to me the protest that swelled into greater volume as the years rolled by.
As the train drew up at Woking station a crowd assembled. Outside stood a cab, to which I was at once conducted, and we drove through lovely woods; the scent of flowers was wafted by the breeze into what seemed to be a hearse that was bearing me on toward my living tomb.
As we approached the prison the great iron gate swung wide, and the cab drove silently into the yard. There I descended. The governor gave an order, and a woman—who I afterward found was assistant superintendent—came forward. Accompanied by her and an officer, I was led across a near-by yard to a building which stood somewhat apart from the others and is known as the infirmary. There a principal matron received me, and the assistant superintendent and the chief matron returned to their quarters.