to take you to prison, where you will see your worthy
friend, Mr. Sharpley. You will all be tried for your lives for the
robbery you committed yesterday.'

When I heard this, I no longer resisted, but walked on in silence,
meditating on the wretched state to which we were all reduced by the
dishonesty of Mr. Sharpley. When we entered the road I found, to my
surprise, that I had in the gloom of the night retraced my steps, and
was within a short distance of the house where the robbery had been
committed.

I was conducted into the town, which, in our hasty flight the day
before, we had not dared to visit. I was then taken to the magistrate's
house and locked up in a room with a stone floor, grated windows, and
no furniture but a wooden bench. There I was left for nearly two hours,
and had full leisure to think over my melancholy situation. It appeared
to me most likely that we should all be condemned to die, and when I
thought of my past life--how very little I had known but sorrow--when I
reflected that I had no relations to be sorry for my death, I thought
that, if it was not for the disgrace of dying as a thief, I should not
wish to live, but be glad to die, that I might be free from all the
troubles of this world.

In the midst of these reflections the man who had awakened me in the
field opened the door and told me to come, for I was now going to be
tried for my life. I instantly arose. He took me by the arm and led me
into a large room, where there were a great many people assembled. Some
were standing, and others sitting on benches. At the upper end of a
large table sat a gentleman with a very severe countenance.

From the description often given me by Mr. Sharpley of a justice-room I
instantly concluded that this was one, and that the gentleman I saw was
the justice. By his side sat another gentleman and some ladies. I heard
the people near me whisper that they were the persons who had been
robbed, and that they were come to swear to the things. I did not look
at them more than merely to see that three persons were there, for in
one corner of the room stood Mr. Sharpley and his wife, guarded by two
men; and on the floor near the table was placed the pack and our two
boxes.

'All is over with us,' thought I, as I was led up to the table, which I
found was called being put to the bar. I was then ordered to take off my
hat, which I did, and the justice asked me what was my name.

'Lady Anne,' I replied.

A g