remark that he turned a good many
of the prisoners into pill sellers and incipient quacks, but he never
would tell them about the abortion medicine although he gave them
prescriptions for almost all diseases. I saw them all, and know the
herbs had at least the merit of being innocent. Had he been less
honest, and had the herbs which he prescribed been poisonous, I fancy
that a good many of Her Majesty's faithful, loyal, and gullible
subjects would, long ere now, have returned to the dust from whence
they sprang.

CHAPTER XVIII.

IN PRISON AGAIN--I SEE THE PRISON DIRECTOR FOR THE LAST
TIME--GENTLEMEN-PRISONERS--A WILL FORGER--A "WARNING TO
OTHERS"--FENIANS--TREATMENT OF POLITICAL PRISONERS--ANOTHER
JAILBIRD.

Having recruited my strength in hospital, I was again discharged to
resume my work in prison. Shortly after my return to my old quarters, I
thought I would inform my friends that some of the companions I met
with at the commencement of my prison career, who had longer sentences
than I had, had been fortunate enough to obtain their liberty, and, in
addition, a free passage to Western Australia--which was worth about
20_l._--and that I wished them to try and do something to aid me
in my race for liberty. But my letter was again suppressed, and not
being able by this means to inform my friends of my wishes, I entered
my name once more as being desirous to see the director. I anticipated
meeting the regular visiting director, who very rarely refused a
prisoner the privilege of writing a petition to the Home Secretary, if
he had allowed the usual time (twelve months) to elapse since he had
obtained the privilege before. But I was even in this doomed to
disappointment, and instead of the director I expected to see, I found
myself confronted by the old sinister-looking friend I had been
introduced to on a former occasion. I told him on making my humble
request that I had not petitioned the Home Secretary for several years,
that, in fact, I had not petitioned on the merits of my case at all,
and that I would feel grateful if he would extend to me the privilege,
usually granted to all well-conducted prisoners, of petitioning the
Home Secretary.

Conscience did not seem to be utterly powerless within him, for his
eyes would not meet mine, they remained fixed on the desk before him;
but his head shook, and his lips muttered, "No." I pleaded for a moment
in beseeching tones which might have softened a heart of sto