se
at the delay of my execution. His reply was, that he heard that others
were in custody upon the same charge, and that they waited for their
convictions, that we might all suffer at the same time; for the order
for my execution had come on the Friday last, but had been countermanded
on the afternoon of the same day. Although this satisfied me that I had
no hopes of escape, yet I was pleased that I had obtained more time for
preparation, and I renewed my reading with ardour. Another week passed,
when the gaoler, with a solemn face, and much apparent concern, came in,
and informed me that the other parties arrested had been tried before
the Commission, and had been condemned, and that it was expected that
the execution would take place either on the morrow or the day after.
The announcement did not affect me much. I had made up my mind that I
should suffer, and had to a degree weaned myself from life. I
considered how all hopes of my ever enjoying the delight of my family
and kindred ties had flown away, and I looked with disgust upon my
career as a privateersman--a career of recklessness and blood, so
denounced by the sacred writings which I had before me. I reflected,
that if I were to leave the prison I should have no other means of
sustenance, and should probably return to my former life, and load my
soul with a still heavier weight of crime; and, although I felt an
occasional bitter pang at the idea of leaving the world so young--a
world which I could not hate--still I was, after a few hours' communing
and reflection, resigned to my fate, and exclaimed with sincerity, "Thy
will be done." I think, Madam, you may have observed that, sinful as I
was, my whole career proved that I was not a hardened sinner. Good was
not driven entirely out of me, but was latent, notwithstanding all my
excesses, and the bad company which had influenced me.

I now prayed, and prayed earnestly, and I thought that my prayers were
heard. Such was my state of mind on the day before the one appointed
for my execution, when the gaoler and one of the sheriff's officers came
into my cell, accompanied by the Roman Catholic priest whom I have
before mentioned. I perceived by the countenance of the gaoler, who was
a humane man, that he had no unpleasant news. The sheriff's officer
delivered to him an order for my liberation, and to my astonishment I
was told by the gaoler that my pardon was signed, and that I was free.
I was stupified wi