avail; the keeper had been bribed before I arrived.
Although it could do no possible good, I was glad to stand outside the
prison walls in the drenching rain, all the rest of that wretched
night, that I might be as near as possible to my friend and suffer a
little with him.

Was not I, too, greatly indebted to him? Had he not imperiled his life
and given his blood to save the honor of Jane as well as of
Mary--Jane, dearer to me a thousand-fold than the breath of my
nostrils? And was he not suffering at that moment because of this
great service, performed at my request and in my place? If my whole
soul had not gone out to him I should have been the most ungrateful
wretch on earth; worse even than a pair of selfish, careless girls.
But it did go out to him, and I believe I would have bartered my life
to have freed him from another hour in that dungeon.

As soon as the prison gates were opened next morning, I again
importuned the keeper to give Brandon a more comfortable cell, but his
reply was that such crimes had of late become so frequent in London
that no favor could be shown those who committed them, and that men
like Brandon, who ought to know and act better, deserved the maximum
punishment.

I told him he was wrong in this case; that I knew the facts, and
everything would be clearly explained that very day and Brandon
released.

"That's all very well," responded the stubborn creature; "nobody is
guilty who comes here; they can every one prove innocence clearly and
at once. Notwithstanding, they nearly all hang, and frequently, for
variety's sake, are drawn and quartered."

I waited about Newgate until nine o'clock, and as I passed out met
Buckingham and his man Johnson, a sort of lawyer-knight, going in. I
went down to the palace at Greenwich, and finding that the girls were
still at Scotland Palace, rode over at once to see them.

Upon getting Mary and Jane to myself, I told them of Brandon's arrest
on the charge of murder, and of his condition, lying half dead from
wounds and loss of blood, in that frightful dungeon. The tale moved
them greatly, and they both gave way to tears. I think Mary had heard
of the arrest before, as she did not seem surprised.

"Do you think he will tell the cause of the killing?" she asked.

"I know he will not," I answered; "but I also know that he knows you
will," and I looked straight into her face.

"Certainly we will," said Jane; "we will go to the king at once," and
she