Yet he could watch the pain of others and never turn a hair. He had witnessed capital operations and had found stimulus in the experience which the hospital theatre brings to the enthusiastic scientist. He had seen death administered by the law in England, America and France. Once he stood by the side of a guillotine in a little northern town of France and watched three shrieking men dragged to "the widow" and was the least affected of the spectators, until the blood of one splashed his hand. And then it was only disgust he felt. He himself was incapable of violent action. He might torture the helpless, but he would have to be sure they were helpless. "Chilly this morning, sir," said the chief warder conversationally, and said that he did not know what was happening to the weather nowadays. "Is this the first time you've been inside?" "In a prison? Oh lord, no," said Ronnie. "Ah!" The warder jerked his head toward the door. "On this kind of job?" "Yes, twice before." The officer looked glum. "Not very pleasant. It upsets all the routine of the establishment. Can't get the men out for exercise till after it is over. They sit in their cells and brood--we always have a lot of trouble afterwards." "How is he going to take it?" asked Ronald. "Who, the prisoner?" Mr. Marsden smiled. "Oh, he's going to take it all right. They never give any trouble--and he--he'll go laughing, you mark my words. We like him, here--that's a funny thing to say, isn't it? But I assure you, I've had to take three men off observation duty--they are the warders who sit in the cell with him--they got so upset. It is a fact. Old fellows who'd been in the prison service for years. Here's the deputy." A tall man in a trench coat had come through the grille. "Good morning, Morelle, have you seen the governor?" Ronnie nodded. "He won't be here for the--er--event," said Major Boyle. "Between ourselves, he said he couldn't stand it. An extraordinary thing. Have you seen Sir John Maxton?" "No, is he here?" asked Ronnie interested. "He's in the cell with the man--there he is." Sir John's face was gray: he seemed to have shrunken. He had not expected to see Ronnie, but he made no comment on his presence. "Good morning, Boyle. Good morning, Ronnie. I have just said goodbye to him." "Aren't you staying?" "No--he understands," said Sir John briefly. Then he seemed to be conscious of Ronnie's presence. The deputy had gone back to the hall. "Ronnie, how could you come here this morning--and meet the eyes of this man so soon to face God?" he asked in a hushed voice. Ronnie's lips curled. "I suppose you feel in your heart that it is a great injustice, that your noble-minded murderer should go to a shameful death, whilst a leprous but respectable member of society like myself walks free through that gate!" "I would wish no man this morning's agony," said the other. "Suppose you were God--" "Ronnie, have you no decency!"