On the Thursday week following, when my wounds were all getting well,
the whole body of convicts was duly paraded at half-past eleven in front
of the Governor's house.
The Governor came out, holding an official-looking paper in his right
hand. "No. 1430," he said in a loud voice, "stand forward." And I stood
forward.
"No. 1430, I have the pleasant duty of informing you, in face of all
your fellow-prisoners, that your heroism and self-devotion in saving the
life of Warder James Woollacott, when he was attacked and almost
overpowered on the twentieth of this month by a gang of rebellious
convicts, has been reported to Her Majesty's Secretary of State for the
Home Department; and that on his recommendation Her Majesty has been
graciously pleased to grant you a Free Pardon for the remainder of the
time during which you were sentenced to penal servitude."
For a moment I felt quite stunned and speechless. I reeled on my feet so
much that two of the warders jumped forward to support me. It was a
great thing to have at least one's freedom. But in another minute the
real meaning of the thing came clearer upon me, and I recoiled from the
bare sound of those horrid words, a free pardon. I didn't want to be
pardoned like a convicted felon: I wanted to have my innocence proved
before the eyes of all England. For my own sake, and still more for
Emily's sake, rehabilitation was all I cared for.
"Sir," I said, touching my cap respectfully, and saluting the Governor
according to our wonted prison discipline, "I am very greatly obliged to
you for your kindness in having made this representation to the Home
Secretary; but I feel compelled to say I cannot accept a free pardon. I
am wholly guiltless of the crime of which I have been convicted; and I
wish that instead of pardoning me the Home Secretary would give
instructions to the detective police to make a thorough investigation of
the case, with the object of proving my complete innocence. Till that is
done, I prefer to remain an inmate of Portland Prison. What I wish is
not pardon, but to be restored as an honest man to the society of my
equals."
The Governor paused for a moment, and consulted quietly in an undertone
with one or two of his subordinates. Then he turned to me with great
kindness, and said in a loud voice, "No. 1430, I have no power any
longer to detain you in this prison, even if I wished to do so, after
you have once obtained Her Majesty's free pardon. My duty is to dismiss
you at once, in accordance with the terms of this document. However, I
will communicate the substance of your request to the Home Secretary,
with whom such a petition, so made, will doubtless have the full weight
that may rightly attach to it. You must now go with these warders, who
will restore you your own clothes, and then formally set you at liberty.
But if there is anything further you would wish to speak to me about,
you can do so afterward in your private capacity as a free man at two
o'clock in my own office."
I thanked him quietly and then withdrew. At two o'clock I duly presented
myself in ordinary clothes at the Governor's office.
We had a long and confidential interview, in the course of which I was
able to narrate to the Governor at full length all the facts of my
strange story exactly as I have here detailed them. He listened to me
with the greatest interest, checking and confirming my statements at
length by reference to the file of papers brought to him by a clerk.
When I had finished my whole story, he said to me quite simply, "Mr.
Tait, it may be imprudent of me in my position and under such peculiar
circumstances to say so, but I fully and unreservedly believe your
statement. If anything that I can say or do can be of any assistance to
you in proving your innocence, I shall be very happy indeed to exert all
my influence in your favour."