And every speck of circumstance, unite
To fix the blot on you.
—Byron.
Mr. Chewkle—attired as a traveller about to undertake a long journey—entered the waiting-room of the Great Western Railway Station on the morning following his interview with Nathan Gomer, precisely as the clock pealed the hour of nine. He gazed about him—inspected with unabashed steadfastness the features of the individuals assembled in readiness for the 9.15 train, and then seated himself in a conspicuous situation.
He arranged his hair and his hat: he looked slowly once more at every face, and then, putting the knob of his walking stick to his lips, he fixed his eyes upon a heap of miscellaneous luggage.
He commenced to wait for Nathan Gomer.
At the same hour Nathan presented himself at the gate of the Queen’s Prison, and, in his turn, waited for admission. He took the opportunity of obtaining from one of the officers “on the lock” some particulars respecting Mr. Joshua Maybee, and, immediately the opportunity was afforded him, he made direct for that man’s apartment on the county side of the prison.
Josh Maybee was not afflicted with a mania for early rising; he liked to take out a large share of existence reclining between sheets upon a mattress: he would have preferred a down bed, but that was a luxury unknown to the prison, at least on the county side; he, therefore, went to bed early, and rose late.
He was miserably poor; and, as scarcely anything in the place acknowledged him for master, he had no fear of being robbed—consequently, he slept with his door unlocked. It saved him a trouble night and morning. Nathan Gomer, therefore, entered his room without difficulty, and, closing the door softly behind him, turned the key in the lock. He gazed upon the poor mean prison bed, and upon the pallid old face lying upon the pillow—the eyes closed in sleep. He sighed—for the sallow hue of the man’s features, and the long lines furrowing forehead and cheek, told of long incarceration, and much continued mental suffering.
He drew towards the bed with a noiseless step, and taking off his hat and gloves, he laid them aside with his stick. He then seated himself upon the floor by the bedside, placing his face within a foot of Maybee’s, so that when the latter awoke, he should be promptly alive to the fact that he was honoured with the presence of a visitor.