screams from the
landlady and her maids, and as they screamed they pointed with
trembling fingers.

And well they might. There--caught red-handed in an act of robbery and
violence, a few steps from the place of the mysterious murder, stood
the stately figure of Captain Cowen and the mottled face and bottle
nose of Daniel Cox condemned to die an just twelve hours' time.

CHAPTER IV

"Ay, scream, ye fools," roared Bradbury, "that couldn't see a church by
daylight." Then, shaking his fist at Cowen, "Thou villain! 'Tisn't
one man you have murdered, 'tis two. But please God I'll save one of
them yet, and hang you in his place. Way, there! not a moment to lose."

In another minute they were all in the yard, and a hackney-coach sent
for.

Captain Cowen said to Bradbury, "This thing on my face is choking me."

"Oh, better than you have been choked--at Tyburn and all."

"Hang me. Don't pillory me. I've served my country."

Bradbury removed the wax mask. He said afterward he had no power to
refuse the villain, he was so grand and gentle.

"Thank you, sir. Now, what can I do for you? Save Daniel Cox?"

"Ay, do that, and I'll forgive you."

"Give me a sheet of paper."

Bradbury, impressed by the man's tone of sincerity, took him into the
bar, and getting all his men round him, placed paper and ink before him.

He addressed to General Barrington, in attendance on His Majesty,
these:--

General,--See His Majesty betimes, tell him from me that Daniel Cox,
condemned to die at noon, is innocent, and get him a reprieve. O
Barrington, come to your lost comrade. The bearer will tell you where
I am. I cannot.

EDWARD COWEN.

"Send a man you can trust to Windsor with that, and take me to my most
welcome death."

A trusty officer was despatched to Windsor, and in about an hour Cowen
was lodged in Newgate.

All that night Bradbury labored to save the man that was condemned to
die. He knocked up the sheriff of Middlesex, and told him all.

"Don't come to me," said the sheriff; "go to the minister."

He rode to the minister's house. The minister was up. His wife gave a
ball--windows blaring, shadows dancing--musics--lights. Night turned
into day. Bradbury knocked. The door flew open, and revealed a line
of bedezined footmen, dotted at intervals Up the stairs.

"I must see my lord. Life or death. I'm an officer from Bow Street."

"You can't see my lord. Ha is entertaining the Prootian Ambass