ON THE DROP.

Patea Mail, Volume IX, Issue 1094, 3 October 1883, Page 4

ON THE DROP.

L ITE R AT E RE.

The reverend gentleman sits down with a puzzled expression, and after a while enters into conversation with me, and warns me that I must prepare myself for eternity, as,there was not the slightest chance of my sentence being commuted. . He soon sees, however, that I am not in a mood to listen to him, and withdraws. Soon after this I turn into, a heavy stupor rather than sleep. I was aroused by the warder next morning about eight, and although at the moment of waking I realised tint something had happened, it was some time before I remembered what. Then a most profound depression took p'ace in my spirits. I was unable to eat my breakfast, and sat for several hours with my head buried in my hands. About noon the chaplain paid me another visit, and we had a long and earnest conversation, in which I solemnly expressed my innocence so as to rattier shake his preconceived opinion. He left me alter soothing me considerably, and I even began to contemplate my fate with fortitude it not with resignation. So day after day went by, and when the sun of the last Sunday went down, by the efforts of the excellent minister, I had made my pence; with Heaven, and resolved to meet my death becomingly, and trust to time to clear my name. I had received many letters ami more tracts from the outside public, some of them of a novel character. The majority of the tracts smelt stropgly of brimstone, and the . number of avenues to Heaven offered for my selection certainly afforded a wide and varied choice. Numberless were the applications for my autograph, and while those for locks of my hair were /ewer, yet I should have required a dozen bushy scalpa-os well ns a wig or two to gratify them all. Of course I answered none. But the most curious application of all was one from a well-known patent medicine proprietor,'' I %hd 'offered to present £l5O to any one I chose to mention, if I would announce, while on the scaffold, that Jackson’s Liver pills were the best. This, too, did not. reci-ivo the formality of an answer. On .the night the good old chaplain stayed with me until II and then left, promising to return early in the morning. I got into bed, and lay there tumbling about; for though I was drowsy, it seemed to me to be wasting my life to sleep. From tho Gruildhall close by I heard the quarters strike ‘with frightful rapidity, and as I listened to theJicking of the warder’s ; wi»tch, ;uanat,urally . loud, it seemed to me that every stroke was. the, loss of a drop of blood. Then another idea had entered my head. I laid my hand upon my heart and' counted its beats until I had reckoned 900 ; then every sensation in my'body seemed centred in t my heart. I had no need to place my hand to feel it beating. My whole attention was absorbed in it. It seemed to'mo as if it had just awoke to its prospect of speedy idleness, amd to be trying to compensate, for it by an increased violence of motion. 1 I was most unnaturally conscious ;pf, its every movement. I could tliihk of nothing else; and at last my. strangely acute sense of its existence rose into perfect agony; and .I jumped from, my bed and paced the cell until it gradually died away ; then , I jumped into-bed, and other though is ; To-morrow, at that time, where, what should I be? The,.Cfreatf Secret,- which the wisest of living philosophers cannot fathom, but which the rudest of dead clowns- has read.that I should kavo discovered. .My body would not be far from its present abode; but my son], spirit, or intellect, 1 my consciousness, I myself, John Hollis, where would it be ? Dead lextinct! or’ foaming in fullest consciousness; somewhere in space ? I coqjdf not-believe dt.- I understood, no existence apart from the body. ' My ideas; upon" the subject were peculiar. I believed the soul to die with the body until t Resurrect ion ;6fthe latter promised us in Holy Writ took place. In the midst of these thoughts I fell into a’deep sleep Until I was aroused by the warder ,X. sprang xiphnstily,.and saw ’thg 'grey, cold dawn through the bars, and I knew that my last day on earth had begun. After ; partaking" of a cup of coffee, I was joined by the clergyman. I may mention here that T possessed no near relations, and that none had visited me ; yet there was one—l was engaged to the daughter of Sir James, So. the time rolled on, as it seemed to me very slowly. I was morbidly anxious, for the hour to. arrive. The anticipation was so terrible that I wished ray'.'execution was pver, or that, it had , taken 'place . before. Seven strikes. I have-another hour. ' Clang go the bolts ; surely they have not come to pinion me already. A 'lady to see me I Who is tbis ? : Ida Fielding, by Heaven I “ Jack,” says she, with outstretched hands,- pallid face, and trembling lips, | “ Jack, my poor fellow. lam come to tell you that I believe in your innocence, 1 and to wish you good-bye. Oh Jack, 1 Jack I” she continued, breaking down. ' “ Ida,” said I, passionately, “ if his spirit csn hear ns ho knows that I am 1 guiltless,. yes, guiltless before God. But,” I continued, “ that will not save me. Pray try to avoid any connection with an executed murderer.” She looked at me with a curious expression, and seemed on the eve of saying something, but checked herself; then, as an official walked in and whispered to her, she turned to me and said, hurriedly, “ I must leave you now, Jack, but remember, this has not ’changed my love. I believe yon are innocent. Good-bye,” I cannot describe that parting. (To he Continued.)