The Prisoner Read Free Page A

She wore no jewelry, and a closer inspection revealed that her cloak was void of ornamentation and the fabric was cheap and somewhat worn. Whatever she was paying for the dubious privilege of taking on the responsibility of a half-starved, lying, thieving urchin, it was clear she could ill-afford it. The certainty that Jack was planning to take advantage of her well-meaning intentions and then abandon her made him feel sad for both of them.
    Governor Thomson was already on his way out the door, evidently anxious to have the transaction completed.
    But the lovely Miss MacPhail hesitated.
    â€œI will send my maid to attend to you as quickly as possible,” she promised Haydon. “Is there anything special you would like?”
    â€œDo not take your eyes off the lad until you are certain he will stay with you—otherwise he will be gone by morning.”
    Her dark eyes widened. Obviously she had expected him to ask for something simple and self-indulgent, like whiskey, or perhaps that a particular dish be prepared for him.
    â€œThere is one more thing.”
    She waited expectantly.
    â€œI would like you to believe that I am innocent.”
    The warder snorted with amusement. “All ye murderers want the world to think ye’re sweet an’ pure as bairns—especially before ye’re due to have yer neck snapped.”
    â€œWhy does it matter to you what I believe?” she asked, ignoring the warder’s jeer.
    Haydon regarded her intently. “It just does.”
    She was silent a moment, contemplating his request. “I’m afraid I do not know the facts of your case, sir, and therefore can pass no judgment.” Her voice was soft and laced with remorse, as if she would have far preferred to tell him that she believed him.
    He nodded, suddenly feeling immeasurably weary. “Of course.” He closed his eyes.
    â€œCome, then, Miss MacPhail,” said Governor Thomson, who was waiting impatiently for her at the cell door. “Let us have this matter of the lad settled.”
    â€œI will have my maid prepare something special for you,” Genevieve promised Haydon, perhaps hoping that he would be somewhat consoled by this.
    â€œI’m not hungry.”
    â€œThen she will do whatever she can to see to your comfort,” she persisted.
    â€œFine. Thank you.”
    He sensed rather than saw her hesitate, as if there was something more she wished to say to him.
    And then she left the cell, leaving him to face his final hours alone in the frigid darkness.
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    T HE CONTRACT IS THE SAME AS THOSE TO WHICH YOU have previously agreed, except, of course, I have included the particulars of the lad’s sentence,” said Governor Thomson, laying a sheet of paper on the desk before her. “I’m certain you will find it is all in order.” It was clear he was most anxious to have the document signed and receive his payment.
    â€œI’m sure it is,” Genevieve replied. “But it would set a poor example if I were to sign it without reading it first. One must always read a document thoroughly before putting one’s signature on it,” she instructed Jack. With that she began to carefully read the contract.
    â€œWell, now, lad, this is a fortuitous day for you, is it not?” asked Governor Thomson, lamely attempting to fill the awkward silence.
    Jack said nothing.
    Genevieve glanced up at the boy. He was staring intently at the passage beyond the doorway of the governor’s office, apparently transfixed by Warder Sims, who was busy piling scummy porridge bowls onto a heavy wooden tray. Perhaps, Genevieve reflected, the boy was considering how close he had come to being beaten to death by the horrid man.
    â€œJack, you must respond when someone asks you a question,” she instructed gently.
    Jack blinked and looked at her in confusion. “What?”
    â€œIn polite conversation we don’t say ‘what,’ we say