If any thing more was wanting to confirm our
note, we could refer to Colonel Condy, the very gentlemanly United
States marshal. in a very rude manner, told him it was against the
rules, and putting his hand to his back, pushed him out of the cell
and secured the bolts. The little fellow felt his way through the
passage and down the stairs in the dark until he reached the
corridor, where the jailer stood awaiting to let him pass the outer
iron-gate. "You've made a long stay, my little fellow. You'll have
a heap o' trouble to find the wharf, at this time o' night. I'd o'
let you stopped all night, but it's strictly against the sheriff's
orders," said the jailer, as, he passed into the street, at the same
time giving him a list of imperfect directions about the course to
proceed.
The jail is in a distant and obscure part of the city, surrounded by
narrow streets and lanes, imperfectly laid out and undefined. In
leaving the walls of the prison, he mistook his direction, and the
night being very dark, with a light, drizzling rain, which commenced
while he was in the prison, the whole aspect of things seemed
reversed. After travelling about for some time, he found himself
upon a narrow strip of land that crossed a basin of water and led to
Chisholm's mill. The different appearance of things here convinced
him of his error.
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