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prisoners are not hardened in iniquity like Rufus Dawes.
Rex is, I believe, truly penitent, and has written a most
touching letter to his father.’
‘A letter!’ said Vickers. ‘You know that, by the King’s—no,
the Queen’s Regulations, no letters are allowed to be sent to
the friends of prisoners without first passing through the
hands of the authorities.’
‘I am aware of that, Major, and for that reason have
brought it with me, that you may read it for yourself. It
seems to me to breathe a spirit of true piety.’
‘Let’s have a look at it,’ said Frere.
‘Here it is,’ returned Meekin, producing a packet; ‘and
when the cloth is removed, I will ask permission of the la-
dies to read it aloud. It is most interesting.’
A glance of surprise passed between the ladies Protherick
and Jellicoe. The idea of a convict’s letter proving interest-
ing! Mr. Meekin was new to the ways of the place.
Frere, turning the packet between his finger, read the
address:-
John Rex, sen., Care of Mr. Blicks, 38, Bishopsgate Street
Within, London.
‘Why can’t he write to his father direct?’ said he. ‘Who’s
Blick?’
‘A worthy merchant, I am told, in whose counting-house
the fortunate Rex passed his younger days. He had a toler-
able education, as you are aware.’
‘Educated prisoners are always the worst,’ said Vickers.
‘James, some more wine. We don’t drink toasts here, but as
this is Christmas Eve, ‘Her Majesty the Queen’!’

For the Term of His Natural Life