On receiving this note, Cowen betook him to his knees.

In this attitude the jailer found him when he went his round.

He waited till the Captain rose, and then let him know that an able
lawyer was in waiting, instructed to defend him at Bow Street next
morning. The truth is, the females of the "Swan" had clubbed money for
this purposes.

Cowen declined to see him. "I thank you, sir," said he, "I will defend
myself."

He said, however, he had a little favor to ask.

"I have been," said he, "of late much agitated and fatigued, and a sore
trial awaits me in the morning. A few hours of unbroken sleep would be
a boon to me."

"The turnkeys must come in to see you are all right."

"It is their duty; but I will lie in sight of the door if they will be
good enough not to wake me."

"There can be no objection to that; Captain, and I am glad to see you
calmer."

"Thank you; never calmer in my life."

He got his pillow, set two chairs, and composed himself to sleep. He
put the candle on the table, that the turnkeys might peep through the
door and see him.

Once or twice they peeped in very softly, and saw him sleeping in the
full light of the candle, to moderate which, apparently, he had thrown
a white handkerchief over his face.

At nine in the morning they brought him his breakfast, as he must be at
Bow Street between ten and eleven.

When they came so near him, it struck them he lay too still.

They took off the handkerchief.

He had been dead some hours.

Yes, there, calm, grave, and noble, incapable, as it seemed, either of
the passions that had destroyed him or the tender affection which
redeemed yet inspired his crimes, lay the corpse of Edward Cowen.

Thus miserably perished a man in whom were many elements of greatness.

He left what little money he had to Bradbury, in a note imploring him
to keep particulars out of the journals, for his son's sake; and such
was the influence on Bradbury of the scene at the "Star," the man's
dead face, and his dying words, that, though public detail was his
interest, nothing transpired but that the gentleman who had been
arrested on suspicion of being concerned in the murder at the "Swan"
Inn had committed suicide: to which was added by another hand: "Cox,
however, has the King's pardon, and the affair still remains shrouded
with mystery."

Cox was permitted to see the body of Cowen, and, whether the features
had gone back to youth, or his own brain, long