At the sound of Hugh's voice she started and replied: "Oh, yes, I remember--we are to visit the penitentiary. Dear me," and in
a kind of absent way, Mrs. Worthington took Hugh's arm, and the party
proceeded on their way to the huge building known as the Frankfort
Penitentiary. Hugh was well acquainted with the keeper, who admitted
them cheerfully, and ushered them at once into the spacious yard.
Pleased with Alice's enthusiastic interest in everything he said, the
keeper was quite communicative, pointing out the cells of any noted
felons, repeating little incidents of daring attempts to escape, and
making the visit far more entertaining than the party had expected.
"This," he said, opening a narrow door, "this belongs to the negro
stealer, Sullivan. You know him, Mrs. Worthington. He ran off the old
darky you now own, old Sam, I mean."
"I'd like to see Mr. Sullivan," Alice said. "I saw old Sam when he was
in Virginia."
"We'll find him on the ropewalk. We put our hardest customers there. Not
that he gives us trouble, for he does not, and I rather like the chap,
but we have a spite against these Yankee negro stealers," was the
keeper's reply, as he led the way to the long low room, where groups of
men walked up and down--up and down--holding the long line of hemp,
which, as far as they were concerned, would never come to an end until
the day of their release.