The Inmate Of The Dungeon, by 
W. C. Morrow 
 
The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Inmate Of The Dungeon, by W. 
C. Morrow This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost 
and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it 
away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License 
included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org 
Title: The Inmate Of The Dungeon 1894 
Author: W. C. Morrow 
Release Date: October 24, 2007 [EBook #23177] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ASCII 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE 
INMATE OF THE DUNGEON *** 
 
Produced by David Widger 
 
THE INMATE OF THE DUNGEON 
By W. C. Morrow 
Copyright, 1894, by J. B. Lippincott & Co
After, the Board of State Prison Directors, sitting in session at the 
prison, had heard and disposed of the complaints and petitions of a 
number of convicts, the warden announced that all who wished to 
appear had been heard. Thereupon a certain uneasy and apprehensive 
expression, which all along had sat upon the faces of the directors, 
became visibly deeper. The chairman--nervous, energetic, abrupt, 
incisive man--glanced at a slip of paper in his hand, and said to the 
warden: 
"Send a guard for convict No-14,208." 
The warden started and become slightly pale. Somewhat confused, he 
haltingly replied, "Why, he has expressed no desire to appear before 
you." 
"Nevertheless, you will send for him at once," responded the chairman. 
The warden bowed stiffly and directed a guard to produce the convict. 
Then, turning to the chairman, he said: 
"I am ignorant of your purpose in summoning this man, but of course I 
have no objection. I desire, however, to make a statement concerning 
him before he appears." 
"When we shall have called for a statement from you," boldly 
responded the chairman, "you may make one." 
The warden sank back into his seat. He was a tall, fine-looking man, 
well-bred and intelligent, and had a kindly face. Though ordinarily cool, 
courageous, and self-possessed, he was unable to conceal a strong 
emotion which looked much like fear. A heavy silence fell upon the 
room, disturbed only by the official stenographer, who was sharpening 
his pencils. A stray beam of light from the westering sun slipped into 
the room between the edge of the window-shade and the sash, and fell 
across the chair reserved for the convict. The uneasy eyes of the warden 
finally fell upon this beam, and there his glance rested. The chairman, 
without addressing any one particularly, remarked:
"There are ways of learning what occurs in a prison without the 
assistance of either the wardens or the convicts." 
Just then the guard appeared with the convict, who shambled in 
painfully and laboriously, as with a string he held up from the floor the 
heavy iron ball which was chained to his ankles. He was about 
forty-five years old. Undoubtedly he once had been a man of 
uncommon physical strength, for a powerful skeleton showed 
underneath the sallow skin which covered his emaciated frame. His 
sallowness was peculiar and ghastly-It was partly that of disease, and 
partly of something worse; and it was this something that accounted 
also for his shrunken muscles and manifest feebleness. 
There had been no time to prepare him for presentation to the Board. 
As a consequence, his unstockinged toes showed through his gaping 
shoes; the dingy suit of prison stripes which covered his gaunt frame 
was frayed and tattered; his hair had not been recently cut to the prison 
fashion, and, being rebellious, stood out upon his head like bristles; and 
his beard, which, like his hair, was heavily dashed with gray, had not 
been shaved for weeks. These incidents of his appearance combined 
with a very peculiar expression of his face to make an extraordinary 
picture. It is difficult to describe this almost unearthly expression. With 
a certain suppressed ferocity it combined an inflexibility of purpose 
that sat like an iron mask upon him. His eyes were hungry and eager; 
they were the living part of him, and they shone luminous from beneath 
shaggy brows. His forehead was massive, his head of fine proportions, 
his jaw square and strong, and his thin, high nose showed traces of an 
ancestry that must have made a mark in some corner of the world at 
some time in history. He was prematurely old; this was seen in his gray 
hair and in the uncommonly deep wrinkles which lined his forehead 
and the corners of his eyes and of his mouth. 
Upon stumbling weakly into the room, faint with the labor of walking 
and of carrying the iron ball, he looked around eagerly, like a bear 
driven to his haunches by the hounds. His glance passed so rapidly and 
unintelligently from one face to    
    
		
	
	
	Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code
 
	 	
	
	
	    Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the 
Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.
	    
	    
