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themselves.’
‘Ay,’ said he, with his coarse laugh, ‘and having once
flogged ‘em, they’d do anything rather than be put in the
cage, don’t you see!’
It is horrible to think of this sort of logic being used by a
man who has a wife, and friends and enemies. It is the logic
that the Keeper of the Tormented would use, I should think.
I am sick unto death of the place. It makes me an unbeliever
in the social charities. It takes out of penal science anything
it may possess of nobility or worth. It is cruel, debasing, in-
human.
August 26th.—Saw Rufus Dawes again to-day. His usual
bearing is ostentatiously rough and brutal. He has sunk to
a depth of self-abasement in which he takes a delight in his
degradation. This condition is one familiar to me.
He is working in the chain-gang to which Hankey was
made sub-overseer. Blind Mooney, an ophthalmic prisoner,
who was removed from the gang to hospital, told me that
there was a plot to murder Hankey, but that Dawes, to whom
he had shown some kindness, had prevented it. I saw Han-
key and told him of this, asking him if he had been aware
of the plot. He said ‘No,’ falling into a great tremble. ‘Major
Pratt promised me a removal,’ said he. ‘I expected it would
come to this.’ I asked him why Dawes defended him; and
after some trouble he told me, exacting from me a promise
that I would not acquaint the Commandant. It seems that
one morning last week, Hankey had gone up to Captain
Frere’s house with a return from Troke, and coming back
through the garden had plucked a flower. Dawes had asked
For the Term of His Natural Life