YEAR 1895

The gentle lustre of his eyes lifted to the burning noon sun through the small window. Mathias

Icarius Montgomery leaned over and craned to see the outside world through the iron bars of

the prison that held him. A cloud of dust flew in and then rushed into his eyes and he drew back

irritably but quickly recovered to his earlier position on the window. His last moments of freedom

were these. He had been accused of treason and he was on a death row, sentenced to be hanged the following day.

The failing hope that now possessed his visage was owed to the thoughts of being in...