The cells were opened at the same moment, and without exception the men named by Winwood were found out of their bunks, fully dressed, and crouching just inside their doors.

Of course, this was verification absolute of all the fabric of lies that the poet-forger had spun for Captain Jamie.

The forty lifers were caught in red-handed readiness for the break.

What if they did unite, afterward, in averring that the break had been planned by Winwood?
The Prison Board of Directors believed, to a man, that the forty lied in an effort to save themselves.

The Board of Pardons likewise believed, for, ere three months were up, Cecil Winwood, forger and poet, most despicable of men, was pardoned out.
Oh, well, the stir, or the pen, as they call it in convict argot, is a training school for philosophy.