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Updated: May 14, 2025
The sour face of Gimblett appeared at the trap cell-door. "All right?" he asked, somewhat so the three thought less sourly than usual. "All right," was the reply, and Mooney added, "Good-night, Mr. Gimblett." "I wonder what is making the old man so cheerful," thought Gimblett, as he got into the next corridor.
Gimblett led him to the lamp-post in the yard, and I saw that the victim of his wanton tyranny was the poor blind wretch Mooney. Gimblett placed him with his back against the lamp-post, and his arms being taken round, were secured by handcuffs round the post. I was told that the old man was to remain in this condition for three hours. I went at once to the Commandant.
I have a special message for him. I have come ashore on purpose." "I am very sorry, sir " "The ship will sail in two hours, man, and I shall miss her," said North, indignant at being frustrated in his design. "Let me pass." "Upon my honour, sir, I daren't," said Gimblett, who was not without his good points. "You know what authority is, sir."
Pounce to the Lumber Yard, and, on our entry, we observed a man in the crowd round the cook-house deliberately smoking. The Chief Constable of the Island my old friend Troke, of Port Arthur seeing that this exhibition attracted Pounce's notice, pointed out the man to an assistant. The assistant, Jacob Gimblett, advanced and desired the prisoner to surrender the pipe.
Nearly an hour had passed since the chaplain had placed the rum flask in his hand, and Gimblett observed, with semi-drunken astonishment, that it was not yet empty.
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