THE NEST-EGG HATCHES OUT.
"St! Bobbs!"
The sound was at Robert's left ear. He had been dreaming of Emily arrayed in bridal white and kneeling at his side before the altar of joy. Uncle Benjamin in a clergyman's surplice was pronouncing a benediction upon them. The good old custom of a nuptial kiss was about to be observed, when the warning whisper and his prison nickname rudely awakened him to his surroundings. The sweet vision melted into a black reality, the wide arches of the cathedral contracting to narrow cell walls and the loved faces of Emily and his uncle cruelly vanishing.
"Bobbs! Do you 'ear?"
"Yes!" Robert rubbed his eyes as if to restore the illusion and his answer was slumbrously indistinct.
"Count that bell."
A distant clock was giving out two strokes faintly but with vibrations prolonged in the silence.
"'Ear the hother coves snoozing."
The deep breathing of the convicts grew more and more audible as Robert's senses became sharper and he sat up on his couch.
"Hi 'ear you, Bobbs. Hare you making your toilet?" inquired the facetious cracksman.