d some Christian priest, some Christian-spirited man even, no
matter of what faith, to pour into the ears of this poor wretch words of
comfort and grace; to rend away from him the garment of sullenness and
despair in which he had wrapped himself; to drag from him a confession
of his unworthiness, his obstinacy, and his hasty judgment, and to cheer
his fainting soul with promise of immortality and justice, he might have
been saved from his after fate; but there was no such man. He asked
for the chaplain. North was fighting the Convict Department, seeking
vengeance for Kirkland, and (victim of "clerks with the cold spurt of
the pen") was pushed hither and thither, referred here, snubbed there,
bowed out in another place. Rufus Dawes, half ashamed of himself for his
request, waited a long morning, and then saw, respectfully ushered into
his cell as his soul's physician--Meekin.

CHAPTER XIX. THE CONSOLATIONS OF RELIGION.

"Well, my good man," said Meekin, soothingly, "so you wanted to see me."

"I asked for the chaplain," said Rufus Dawes, his anger with himself
growing apace. "I am the chaplain," returned Meekin, with dignity, as
who should say--"none of your brandy-drinking, pea-jacketed Norths, but
a Respectable chaplain who is the friend of a Bishop!"

"I thought that Mr. North was--"

"Mr. North has left, sir," said Meekin, dryly, "but I will hear what
you have to say. There is no occasion to go, constable; wait outside the
door."

Rufus Dawes shifted himself on the wooden bench, and resting his
scarcely-healed back against the wall, smiled bitterly. "Don't be
afraid, sir; I am not going to harm you," he said. "I only wanted to
talk a little."

"Do you read your Bible, Dawes?" asked Meekin, by way of reply. "It
would be better to read your Bible than to talk, I think. You must
humble yourself in prayer, Dawes."

"I have read it," said Dawes, still lying back and watching him.

"But is your mind softened by its teachings? Do you realize the Infinite
Mercy of God, Who has compassion, Dawes, upon the greatest sinners?" The
convict made a move of impatience. The old, sickening, barren cant of
piety was to be recommenced then. He came asking for bread, and they
gave him the usual stone.

"Do you believe that there is a God, Mr. Meekin?"

"Abandoned sinner! Do you insult a clergyman by such a question?"

"Because I think sometimes that if there is, He must often be
dissatisfied at the way things are