"Well, my good man," said Meekin, soothingly, "so you wanted to see me."
"I asked for the chaplain," said Rufus Dawes, his anger with himselfgrowing apace. "I am the chaplain," returned Meekin, with dignity, aswho should say--"none of your brandy-drinking, pea-jacketed Norths, buta 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 whatyou have to say. There is no occasion to go, constable; wait outside thedoor."
Rufus Dawes shifted himself on the wooden bench, and resting hisscarcely-healed back against the wall, smiled bitterly. "Don't beafraid, sir; I am not going to harm you," he said. "I only wanted totalk a little."
"Do you read your Bible, Dawes?" asked Meekin, by way of reply. "Itwould be better to read your Bible than to talk, I think. You musthumble 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 InfiniteMercy of God, Who has compassion, Dawes, upon the greatest sinners?" Theconvict made a move of impatience. The old, sickening, barren cant ofpiety was to be recommenced then. He came asking for bread, and theygave 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 bedissatisfied at the way things are done here," said Dawes, half tohimself.
"I can listen to no mutinous observations, prisoner," said Meekin. "Donot add blasphemy to your other crimes. I fear that all conversationwith you, in your present frame of mind, would be worse than useless. Iwill mark a few passages in your Bible, that seem to me appropriate toyour condition, and beg you to commit them to memory. Hailes, the door,if you please."
So, with a bow, the "consoler" departed.
Rufus Dawes felt his heart grow sick. North had gone, then. The only manwho had seemed to have a heart in his bosom had gone. The only manwho had dared to clasp his horny and blood-stained hand, and call him"brother", had gone. Turning his head, he saw through the window--wideopen and unbarred, for Nature, at Port Arthur, had no need of bars--thelovely bay, smooth as glass, glittering in the afternoon sun, the longquay, spotted with groups of parti-coloured chain-gangs, and heard,mingling with the soft murmur of the waves, and the gentle rustling ofthe trees, the never-ceasing clashing of irons, and the eternal clickof hammer. Was he to be for ever buried in this whitened sepulchre, shutout from the face of Heaven and mankind!
The appearance of Hailes broke his reverie. "Here's a book for you,"said he, with a grin. "Parson sent it."
Rufus Dawes took the Bible, and, placing it on his knees, turned to theplaces indicated by slips of paper, embracing some twenty marked texts.
"Parson says he'll come and hear you to-morrer, and you're to keep thebook clean."
"Keep the book clean!" and "hear him!" Did Meekin think that he was acharity school boy? The utter incapacity of the chaplain to understandhis wants was so sublime that it was nearly ridiculous enough to makehim laugh. He turned his eyes downwards to the texts. Good Meekin, inthe fullness of his stupidity, had selected the fiercest denunciationsof bard and priest. The most notable of the Psalmist's curses upon hisenemies, the most furious of Isaiah's ravings anent the forgetfulnessof the national worship, the most terrible thunderings of apostle andevangelist against idolatry and unbelief, were grouped together andpresented to Dawes to soothe him. All the material horrors of Meekin'sfaith--stripped, by force of dissociation from the context, of allpoetic feeling and local colouring--were launched at the sufferingsinner by Meekin's ignorant hand. The miserable man, seeking forconsolation and peace, turned over the leaves of the Bible only to findhimself threatened with "the pains of Hell", "the never-dying worm","the unquenchable fire", "the bubbling brimstone", the "bottomless pit",from out of which the "smoke of his torment" should ascend for ever andever. Before his eyes was held no image of a tender Saviour (with handssoft to soothe, and eyes brimming with ineffable pity) dying crucifiedthat he and other malefactors might have hope, by thinking on suchmarvellous humanity. The worthy Pharisee who was sent to him to teachhim how mankind is to be redeemed with Love, preached only that harshLaw whose barbarous power died with the gentle Nazarene on Calvary.
Repelled by this unlooked-for ending to his hopes, he let the book fallto the ground. "Is there, then, nothing but torment for me in this worldor the next?" he groaned, shuddering. Presently his eyes sought hisright hand, resting upon it as though it were not his own, or had somesecret virtue which made it different from the other. "He would nothave done this? He would not have thrust upon me these savage judgments,these dreadful threats of Hell and Death. He called me 'Brother'!" Andfilled with a strange wild pity for himself, and yearning love towardsthe man who befriended him, he fell to nursing the hand on which North'stears had fallen, moaning and rocking himself to and fro.
Meekin, in the morning, found his pupil more sullen than ever.
"Have you learned these texts, my man?" said he, cheerfully, willing notto be angered with his uncouth and unpromising convert.
Rufus Dawes pointed with his foot to the Bible, which still lay on thefloor as he had left it the night before. "No!"
"No! Why not?"
"I would learn no such words as those. I would rather forget them."
"Forget them! My good man, I--"
Rufus Dawes sprang up in sudden wrath, and pointing to his cell doorwith a gesture that--chained and degraded as he was--had something ofdignity in it, cried, "What do you know about the feelings of such asI? Take your book and yourself away. When I asked for a priest, I had nothought of you. Begone!"
Meekin, despite the halo of sanctity which he felt should surround him,found his gentility melt all of a sudden. Adventitious distinctions haddisappeared for the instant. The pair had become simply man and man,and the sleek priest-master quailing before the outraged manhood of theconvict-penitent, picked up his Bible and backed out.
"That man Dawes is very insolent," said the insulted chaplain toBurgess. "He was brutal to me to-day--quite brutal."
"Was he?" said Burgess. "Had too long a spell, I expect. I'll send himback to work to-morrow."
"It would be well," said Meekin, "if he had some employment."
CHAPTER XX. "A NATURAL PENITENTIARY."
For the Term of His Natural Life Page 50