XLII.

A Ray of Hope.

THE day subsequent to the events detailed in the last chapter was Tuesday. A more lovely morning could scarcely have been planned, except by the Great Mechanic. It was about nine o'clock. George Melville had commenced his preparations for constructing one of the largest steam-engines, as well as one most difficult to build, which had ever been manufactured in the prison. The contractor had determined to leave Melville entirely to his own judgment, knowing him so well, that in any matters about which he was uncertain, he would obtain all the information necessary to complete success. During the two years Melville had been in the prison, he had evinced a most extraordinary aptitude for mechanics. He was now a skillful workman in the machine shop, and had shown himself to be a master of the laws which govern the construction of machinery. He was considered the greatest genius in a shop of over one hundred workmen. There were many who excelled him in executing a piece of work, but he stood alone, and far in advance, as an originator and inventor. As he was about to consult Johnson the assistant foreman of the shop, in regard to what men

he had better place upon the new engine, he was sent for to come to the keeper's desk.

"Melville," said the keeper, "you are wanted in the clerk's office. Go up and see what it is

for."

Melville immediately obeyed the order. When he got to the "keeper's-hall," he was met by the Captain of the Wards.

"Melville," said the captain, "follow me."

The captain led him through the south door of the keeper's hall into the same apartment where first he had changed his citizen's dress for the uniform of the prison. Taking an ordinary suit of black clothes, he ordered Melville to put them on. Melville looked up in astonishment.

"Put them on, Melville," repeated the captain. "Am I pardoned?" asked Melville.

"I shouldn't wonder," said the captain. "You'll learn all about it in the clerk's office."

Melville was soon arrayed once more in the garb of a citizen. The clothes were not equal to the suit he had brought to the prison; but he did not stop to criticise them. Following the captain, he soon entered the clerk's office. The first to greet him there was Hon. B. F. Mortimer.

"George," said Mr. Mortimer, as a tear gathered in his eye, "you have been here long enough."

Melville was unable to speak. He gazed upon Mr. Mortimer with a look of intense anguish, holding his hand as if in a vice. Then looking from Mr. Mortimer, his eye rested upon Frederick Mortimer, and by his side stood Melville's father. Dropping Mr. Mortimer's hand, he threw himself into his father's

arms and wept upon his bosom. The strong man wept. Then seating himself in a chair, he bowed his head upon his breast. Even tears had not brought relief to the wounded soul. George Melville needed no explanations to unravel the mystery of this proceeding. He read that he was pardoned. He also read far, far into the future. Forever before his eye, in clear and ineffaceable characters, arose the black stain upon his forehead

Not an eye in that room was dry-not a heart there but fully appreciated the thoughts which had unmanned the hitherto proud and lofty spirit.

"He has set an example of obedience and industry which will be remembered in the prison for years,' said the clerk.

Melville arose. He endeavored to look his friends in the eye. The effort was too much for him. Once more he sought his father's eye, and there the responsive love which met his gaze, subdued somewhat the wild current which oppressed him.

"George," said his father, "bid these gentlemen good bye. They are all your warm friends. The carriage waits to convey you to your mother and sister."

Mr. Mortimer, taking Melville's hand, bent his head and whispered in his ear—

"George, Bell is waiting for you."

The pressure which Mr. Mortimer received from Melville, and the look of subdued earnestness almost unmanned him.

Many years after this event, Mr. Mortimer declared that the most unhappy moment in his existence, he had endured. when in vain he tried to heal the noble spirit so deeply wounded by the uncertain necessity of human justice. But George Melville saw that his friends were beginning to suffer equally with himself. Aroused by a sense of duty to them, he approached the officers of the prison present, and gave to each a word of kind remembrance. As he grasped the hand of the clerk, his eye kindled with a brighter lustre.

"But for you, my friend," said Melville, "I should have been condemned to a life of misery indeed for the past two years. To you, I am indebted for all I have acquired in the noble employments of the mechanic."

This remark was literally true. It will be remembered, that Melville, on entering the prison, had been assigned a place in the hospital. Such a disposition, it is difficult for a convict to change. At Melville's request, the clerk had retained him, contrary to orders, in the machine shop, thereby making himself liable to a reprimand.

But we must not detain Melville from the friends who are anxiously awaiting his arrival at the hotel. The ponderous gate of the main entrance to the prison stands open. George Melville, leaning upon the arm of Frederick Mortimer, walks forth once more a free man, restored to his full citizenship by virtue of the gubernatorial authority exercised at the will of a sovereign people. The Sovereigns of the American Republic, who know how to mete out swift justice when it is due, are also quick to allay and avert the

consequences of an unjust doom. Let the record of pardons in New York State alone attest the truth of this assertion. No country on earth can show such a clear record of pardons, granted upon good cause shown, as can the United States of America. If, occasionally, a rascal is restored to citizenship through unmerited sympathy, avarice, or falsehood, no matter; the American people, notwithstanding, will be united in the sentiment, let the pardoning power remain, a monument of American mercy in pursuit of justice.

A carriage was in waiting. George did not seem disposed to enter it. With his usually quick perception, Mr. Mortimer divined Melville's wish. Addressing George, he said:

"Would you not prefer a walk with Frederick? Your father and I will go in advance, and prepare the way for you."

"Thank you, Mr. Mortimer. I have no objections to your suggestion," replied George.

This plan was adopted.

During the walk, Frederick Mortimer gave George a history of the pardon; how it had been obtained, and the new testimony which had gradually come to light. The subject was sufficiently rich in material for many such walks; therefore, long before Frederick had detailed all that had been done to insure success, they arrived at the hotel.

"You have a room for me, Fred?" said George.

66

Certainly; and an entire wardrobe. While arranging it for you I was sorely tempted to palm mine off on you, and appropriate yours for myself," replied Frederick.