n of a great cold which he had caught in
London when he came up before to attend Mr. Drury's affairs.

Hereupon the unfortunate criminal bethought himself of another
expedient, which he imagined would not fail of engaging Mrs. Drury to
come to London. He informed her by letter, that in the beginning of his
troubles he had pawned some silver plate in town for four-and-twenty
pounds, that it was more than double the value, and might probably be
lost on his death. To this his friend wrote him back that if anybody
would take the plate out, and give advice thereof to Mrs. Drury, she
would repay them, and gratify them also for their trouble. When this
letter came to the poor man's hand he said he was satisfied that his
wife did not desire he should live, however he heartily forgave her.

He constantly denied that he had ever been concerned in any act of a
like kind with that for which he died. He acknowledged that with what
his wife had, and the business he followed, he might have lived very
genteelly in the country; that he had not indeed, been very prudent in
the management of his affairs; however, it was no necessity that forced
him on the base and wicked act for which he died, the sole cause of his
committing which was, as he solemnly protested, the repeated
solicitations of King, the wagoner, who for a considerable time before
represented the attempt to him as a thing no way dangerous in itself,
and which would bring him a very large sum of ready money. As soon as
King perceived that his insinuations begun to make some impression, he
opened himself more fully as to the facility of robbing the Bicester
wagon, _Wherein_, says he, _you will find generally a pretty handsome
sum of money; and as to opposition, depend on it you shall meet with
none._ At last these speeches prevailed on him, and it was agreed that
the wagoner should have half the booty for his advice and assistance;
and the better to conceal it, Drury, was directed to rob King's wife of
about four pounds, which was all she had about her.

A minister of the Church of England, who was either acquainted with Mr.
Drury, or out of charitable intention, attended him at the request of
his friends, took abundance of pains to give him just notions of his
duty in that unfortunate slate into which his folly had brought him; he
repeated to him the reasons which render a public confession necessary
from those who die by judgment of the Law; he exhorted him not to
equivoca