st
hour of his existence, and the gaoler was ordered not to state what had
passed to me, as he might excite false hopes.

When I recovered from my fit, I found myself in the gaoler's parlour,
and as soon as I was able to walk, I was locked up in a condemned cell.
The execution had been ordered to take place on the Thursday, and I had
two days to prepare. In the mean time, the greatest interest had been
excited with regard to me. My whole appearance so evidently belied the
charge, that everyone was in my favour. Ogle was re-questioned, and
immediately gave a clue for the apprehension of Maddox, who, he said, he
hoped would swing by his side.

The gaoler came to me the next day, saying, that some of the magistrates
wished to speak with me; but as I had made up my mind not to reveal my
former life, my only reply was, "That I begged they would allow me to
have my last moments to myself." I recollected Melchior's idea of
destiny, and imagined that he was right. "It was my destiny," thought
I; and I remained in a state of stupor. The fact was, that I was very
ill, my head was heavy, my brain was on fire, and the throbbing of my
heart could have been perceived without touching my breast.

I remained on the mattress all day, and all the next night, with my face
buried in the clothes! I was too ill to raise my head. On Wednesday
morning I felt myself gently pushed on the shoulder by someone; I opened
my eyes; it was a clergyman. I turned away my head, and remained as
before. I was then in a violent fever. He spoke for some time:
occasionally I heard a word, and then relapsed into a state of mental
imbecility. He sighed, and went away.

Thursday came, and the hour of death,--but time was by me unheeded, as
well as eternity. In the mean time Maddox had been taken, and the
contents of Armstrong's bundle found in his possession; and when he
discovered that Ogle had been evidence against him, he confessed to the
robbery.

Whether it was on Thursday or Friday I knew not then, but I was lifted
off the bed, and taken before somebody--something passed, but the fever
had mounted up to my head, and I was in a state of stupid delirium.
Strange to say, they did not perceive my condition, but ascribed it all
to abject fear of death. I was led away--I had made no answer--but I
was free.

PART THREE, CHAPTER SEVEN.

WHEN AT THE LOWEST SPOKE OF FORTUNE'S WHEEL, ONE IS SURE TO RISE AS IT
TURNS ROUND--I RECOVER MY SENSES