“No use you a-going in there,” muttered that functionary.
“Why?” asked Jim.
“He do swear so as I never hear a cove swear afore.”
“Ah,” said Jim, “and I suppose you’ve heard a good deal too in your time.”
“So you may say, but this here young fellow comes out with it as if he’d skin you alive.”
“Well, I must see him. Let me in, please.”
When the door was opened the prisoner’s back was turned, nor did he alter his position as Jim entered the cell.
There was undoubtedly something unusual about the man. His figure was not that of a labourer or a rough, nor was his attitude one of stolid brutishness, such as the chaplain had grown only too familiar with.
Jim stood a moment irresolute, and then said,—
“May I speak to you, friend?”