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 acted as the brains of the gang, and receiver of booty, but taking no actual part in their murderous work. No sooner had I begun my regular visits than he sent for me, being at the time in solitary confinement for insubordination. "Mr. Archdeacon, I wish to inform you of the infamous way in which this gaol is conducted; the gaoler is a tyrant and bully, and tries to make the place a hell upon earth, and because I have remonstrated, I am unfairly punished." As this did not tally with what I had heard, I let him talk on, and when, suddenly, he let slip some special comment on gaol management, I said, "You seem to know all about gaols." Taken aback, he replied, "Well, you ain't a Government Chaplain, and you come here of your own accord; you won't peach, will you? I was in Pentonville before I came out to Australia." "No," said I, "I won't say anything about that, but how can you expect me to believe what you say of this gaol? You, a murderer, if not in deed, of the worst sort, and a coward; you have only saved your neck by perjury." Unabashed, he pointed to a shelf whereon lay a Bible and a volume of sermons. "I assure you I'm innocent. I always attended F. W. Robertson's sermons at Brighton; there's a volume of them; have you ever read them? He was a true Christian minister; he wouldn't have treated me as you do!"

There was something almost humorous in the calm impudence of such a scoundrel. I left him, and soon afterwards met the Magistrate on his way to the gaol. "Come with me. I'm going to hold an enquiry; there's trouble with the prisoners; complaints of short commons of bread, and, from what I hear, I fancy that somehow Chamberlain is at the bottom of