The Escape of a Convict

The convict, who i called the other convict, was drafted off with his guard to go on board first. My convict never looked at me, except that once while we stood in the hut. He stood before the fire, looking thoughtfully at it, or putting up his feet by turns upon the hob and looking as if he pitied them for their recent adventures. Suddenly he turned to the sergeant and remarked, i wish to say something respecting this escape. It may prevent some persons lying under suspicion. You can say what you like, returned the sergeant, standing coolly looking at him with his arms folded. But you have no call to say it here. And i'll tell you where

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