gic of his
morning walk across the moor, the sight of the pagan tors, the songs of
the last cuckoo, had unprepared him for that dreary building. He left
the street, and, entering the fosse, began a circuit, scanning the walls
with morbid fascination.

This, then, was the system by which men enforced the will of the
majority, and it was suddenly borne in on him that all the ideas
and maxims which his Christian countrymen believed themselves to
be fulfilling daily were stultified in every cellule of the social
honeycomb. Such teachings as "He that is without sin amongst you" had
been pronounced unpractical by peers and judges, bishops, statesmen,
merchants, husbands--in fact, by every truly Christian person in the
country.

"Yes," thought Shelton, as if he had found out something new, "the more
Christian the nation, the less it has to do with the Christian spirit."

Society was a charitable organisation, giving nothing for nothing,
little for sixpence; and it was only fear that forced it to give at all!

He took a seat on a wall, and began to watch a warder who was slowly
paring a last year's apple. The expression of his face, the way he stood
with his solid legs apart, his head poked forward and his lower jaw
thrust out, all made him a perfect pillar of Society. He was undisturbed
by Shelton's scrutiny, watching the rind coil down below the apple;
until in a springing spiral it fell on the path and collapsed like a toy
snake. He took a bite; his teeth were jagged; and his mouth immense.
It was obvious that he considered himself a most superior man. Shelton
frowned, got down slowly, from the wall, and proceeded on his way.

A little further down the hill he stopped again to watch a group
of convicts in a field. They seemed to be dancing in a slow and sad
cotillon, while behind the hedge on every side were warders armed with
guns. Just such a sight, substituting spears could have been seen in
Roman times.

While he thus stood looking, a man, walking, rapidly, stopped beside
him, and asked how many miles it was to Exeter. His round visage; and
long, brown eyes, sliding about beneath their brows, his cropped hair
and short neck, seemed familiar.

"Your name is Crocker, is n't it?"

"Why! it's the Bird!" exclaimed the traveller; putting out his hand.
"Have n't seen you since we both went down."

Shelton returned his handgrip. Crocker had lived above his head at
college, and often kept him, sleepless half the night