And these were the companions with whom Rodney was compelled to associate! Sometimes he shrank from them with loathing; and sometimes he almost envied the hardihood with which they boasted of their crimes. Had he remained in their company much longer, who can tell to what an extent he would have been contaminated, and how rapidly prepared for utter moral degradation and eternal ruin?
What afterwards became of them, Rodney never knew; but they are probably either dead,—God having said, "The wicked shall not live out half their days,"—or else preying upon society by the commission of more dreadful crimes, or perhaps spending long years of life in the penitentiary, confined to hard labor and prison fare.
One day, after he had been about two weeks in jail, Rodney took the basin in which they had washed, and threw the water out of the window. The grated bars prevented his seeing whether there was any one below. He had often done so before. It had not been forbidden. He did not intend to do any wrong.
But it happened that one of the keepers was walking under the window, and the water fell upon his head.
He came to the door, in a great rage, and asked who had thrown that water out. Rodney at once said that he had done it, but that he did not know that he had done any harm.
The man took him roughly by the arm, and, telling him he must come with him, led him through a long corridor to another part of the prison, and thrust him into a small, dark dungeon.
CHAPTER IX.
THE DUNGEON.
