Having double locked the
wicket, and assured himself that the other entrances were well secured,
he sat down on a bench in the gallery, and sucked the head of his stick
with the utmost complacency, tranquillity, and contentment.
It would have been strange enough, a man's enjoying himself in this
quiet manner, while the prison was burning, and such a tumult was
cleaving the air, though he had been outside the walls. But here, in the
very heart of the building, and moreover with the prayers and cries
of the four men under sentence sounding in his ears, and their hands,
stretched our through the gratings in their cell-doors, clasped in
frantic entreaty before his very eyes, it was particularly remarkable.
Indeed, Mr Dennis appeared to think it an uncommon circumstance, and to
banter himself upon it; for he thrust his hat on one side as some men do
when they are in a waggish humour, sucked the head of his stick with a
higher relish, and smiled as though he would say, 'Dennis, you're a rum
dog; you're a queer fellow; you're capital company, Dennis, and quite a
character!'
He sat in this way for some minutes, while the four men in the cells,
who were certain that somebody had entered the gallery, but could not
see who, gave vent to such piteous entreaties as wretches in their
miserable condition may be supposed to have been inspired with: urging,
whoever it was, to set them at liberty, for the love of Heaven; and
protesting, with great fervour, and truly enough, perhaps, for the time,
that if they escaped, they would amend their ways, and would never,
never, never again do wrong before God or man, but would lead penitent
and sober lives, and sorrowfully repent the crimes they had committed.
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