FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   67   68   69   70   71   72   73   74   75   76   77   78   79   80   81   82   83   84   85   86   87   88   89   90   91  
92   93   94   95   96   97   98   99   100   101   102   103   104   105   106   107   108   109   110   111   >>  
f these unfortunates--from twelve to fifteen hundred--live during the succeeding five months. They were rigorously guarded night and day by sentinels who were held answerable with their lives for the safe keeping of the prisoners. During the daytime they stood or moved about uneasily. At nights if any of them ventured to rise the sentinels had orders to fire upon them. If they had been dogs they could not have been treated worse. Being men, their sufferings were terrible--inconceivable. Ere long many a poor fellow found a death-bed among the graves of that gloomy enclosure. To add to their misery, friends were seldom permitted to visit them, and those who did obtain leave were chiefly females, who were exposed to the insults of the guards. A week or so after their being shut up here, Andrew Black stood one afternoon leaning against the headstone of a grave on which Quentin Dick and Will Wallace were seated. It had been raining, and the grass and their garments were very wet. A leaden sky overhead seemed to have deepened their despair, for they remained silent for an unusually long time. "This _is_ awfu'!" said Black at last with a deep sigh. "If there was ony chance o' makin' a dash an' fechtin' to the end, I wad tak' comfort; but to be left here to sterve an' rot, nicht an' day, wi' naethin' to do an' maist naethin' to think on--it's--it's awfu'!" As the honest man could not get no further than this idea--and the idea itself was a mere truism--no response was drawn from his companions, who sat with clenched fists, staring vacantly before them. Probably the first stage of incipient madness had set in with all of them. "Did Jean give you any hope yesterday?" asked Wallace languidly; for he had asked the same question every day since the poor girl had been permitted to hold a brief conversation with her uncle at the iron gate, towards which only one prisoner at a time was allowed to approach. The answer had always been the same. "Na, na. She bids me hope, indeed, in the Lord--an' she's right there; but as for man, what can we hope frae _him_?" "Ye may weel ask that!" exclaimed Quentin Dick, with sudden and bitter emphasis. "Man indeed! It's my opeenion that man, when left to hissel', is nae better than the deevil. I' faith, I think he's waur, for he's mair contemptible." "Ye may be right, Quentin, for a' I ken; but some men are no' left to theirsel's. There's that puir young chiel Anderson,
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   67   68   69   70   71   72   73   74   75   76   77   78   79   80   81   82   83   84   85   86   87   88   89   90   91  
92   93   94   95   96   97   98   99   100   101   102   103   104   105   106   107   108   109   110   111   >>  



Top keywords:

Quentin

 

permitted

 

Wallace

 

naethin

 

sentinels

 

conversation

 
yesterday
 

languidly

 
question
 
madness

fifteen

 
twelve
 
hundred
 

succeeding

 
truism
 

honest

 
months
 

response

 
vacantly
 

Probably


staring

 
companions
 

clenched

 

incipient

 

hissel

 

deevil

 

opeenion

 

sudden

 

exclaimed

 

bitter


emphasis

 

Anderson

 

theirsel

 
contemptible
 
answer
 

approach

 

rigorously

 

prisoner

 

allowed

 

unfortunates


insults

 

exposed

 
guards
 

females

 
chiefly
 
obtain
 

leaning

 
afternoon
 
headstone
 

Andrew