Soon Franconia is ready, and onward wending her way
for the gaol, closely followed by Harry. She would have no objection
to his walking by her side, but custom (intolerant interposer) will
not permit it. They pass through busy thoroughfares and narrow
streets into the suburbs, and have reached the prison outer gate, on
the right hand of which, and just above a brass knob, are the
significant words, "Ring the bell."
"What a place to put master in!" says Harry, in a half whisper,
turning to Franconia, as he pulls the brass handle and listens for
the dull tinkling of the bell within. He starts at the muffled
summons, and sighs as he hears the heavy tread of the officer,
advancing through the corridor to challenge his presence. The man
advances, and has reached the inner iron gate, situated in a narrow,
vaulted arch in the main building. A clanking and clicking sound is
heard, and the iron door swings back: a thick-set man, with features
of iron, advances to the stoop, down the steps, and to the gate.
"What's here now?" he growls, rather than speaks, looking sternly at
the coloured man, as he thrusts his left hand deep into his side
pocket, while holding the key of the inner door in his right.
"Visitor," returns Franconia, modestly.
"Who does the nigger want to see?" he enquires, with pertinacity in
keeping with his profession.
"His old master!" is the quick reply.
"You both? I guess I know what it is,--you want to see Marston: he
used to be a rice-planter, but's now in the debtor's ward for a
swimming lot of debts.
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