f gratitude to
me for saving his life.

There was a great excitement over this attempt to murder the Deputy, and
for a few hours, with wardens and keepers, I was a hero. I had been in
the prison more than a year, and was generally regarded as one of the
worst prisoners, one of the "hardest cases;" a mere chance had suddenly
made me one of the most commendable men within those dreary walls. As
for Hall, he was taken to the dungeon and securely chained by the feet
to a ring in the center of the stone floor. There is no doubt whatever
that the man was a raving maniac. He howled night and day so that he
could be heard everywhere in the prison--"Murder, murder! they are
murdering me in this black hole; why don't they take me out and kill
me?"

The Warden said it could not be helped; that the man must be kept there;
he was dangerous to himself and others; the dark cell was the only place
for him. So Hall stayed there and howled, his cries growing weaker from
day to day; by-and-by we heard him only at intervals, and after that
not at all.

One morning there was a little knot of men around the open dungeon door,
the Deputy Warden and two or three keepers. Mr. Morey called to me to go
and get the tools and come there and take off Hall's irons. I went into
the cell and in a few minutes I unfastened his feet from the ring;
then I took the shackles off his limbs. I thought he held his legs very
stiff, but knew he was obstinate, and only wondered he was so quiet.

Somebody brought in a candle and I looked at Hall's face. I never saw a
more ghastly sight. The blood from his mouth and nostrils had clotted
on the lower part of his face, and his wild eyes, fixed and glassy, were
staring at the top wall of the dungeon. He must have been dead several
hours. The Deputy and the rest knew he was dead--the man who carried in
the bread and water told them--me it came with a shock from which I did
not soon recover.

They buried Hall in the little graveyard which was in the yard of the
prison. An Episcopal clergyman, who was chaplain of the prison, read the
burial service over him. The prisoners were brought out to attend the
homely funeral. The ball and chain, all the personal property left by
Hall, were put aside for the next murderer sentenced for life, or for
the next "ugly" prisoner. "If I were only treated better, and not abused
so, I should be a better man." This is what Hall used to say to me
whenever he had an opportunity. The las