were near at hand, and I anxiously awaited the return of
the gaoler, to make a few inquiries. At night he looked through the
small square cut out of the top of the door of the cell, for it was his
duty to go his rounds and ascertain if all his prisoners were safe. I
then asked him if I might be allowed to make a few purchases, such as
pens, ink, and paper, etcetera. As I was not committed to prison in
punishment, but on suspicion, this was not denied, although it would
have been to those who were condemned to imprisonment and hard labour
for their offences; and he volunteered to procure them for me the next
morning. I then wished him a good night, and threw myself on my
mattress. Worn out with fatigue and distress of mind, I slept soundly,
without dreaming, until daylight the next morning. As I awoke, and my
scattered senses were returning, I had a confused idea that there was
something which weighed heavily on my mind, which sleep had banished
from my memory. "What is it?" thought I; and as I opened my eyes, so
did I remember that I, Japhet Newland, who but two nights before was
pressing the down of luxury in the same habitation as Lady de Clare and
her lovely child, was now on a mattress in the cell of a prison, under a
charge which threatened me with an ignominious death. I rose, and sat
on the bed, for I had not thrown off my clothes. My first thoughts were
directed to Timothy. Should I write to him? No, no! why should I make
him miserable? If I was to suffer, it should be under an assumed name.
But what name? Here I was interrupted by the gaoler, who opened the
door, and desired me to roll up my mattress and bed-clothes, that they
might, as was the custom, be taken out of the cell during the day.

My first inquiry was, if the man who had been so much hurt was in the
gaol.

"You mean your 'complice," replied the gaoler. "Yes, he is here, and
has recovered his senses. The doctor says he will do very well."

"Has he made any confession?" inquired I.

The gaoler made no reply.

"I ask that question," continued I, "because if he acknowledges who was
his accomplice, I shall be set at liberty."

"Very likely," replied the man, sarcastically; "the fact is, there is no
occasion for king's evidence in this case, or you might get off by
crossing the water; so you must trust to your luck. The grand jury meet
to-day, and I will let you know whether a true bill is found against you
or not."

"What is the