quire to
give him a piece of her mind.

CHAPTER XIV.

AN UNPLEASANT NIGHT.

But justice though her dome she doe prolong,
Yet at the last she will her own cause right.

SPENSER.

When the landlord of the Cock Tavern thoughtlessly gave his prisoner
into the custody of the ostler he put Edmund Wynne in the way of the
only piece of good fortune which fell to his share on that unlucky
day.

No sooner did the two conspirators find themselves alone than Edmund
began to implore his companion to set him at liberty, offering large
prospective bribes for freedom; but quickly perceiving that his keeper
was inexorable, he turned his attention to the best possible provision
for the safety of those who had embarked on the expedition along with
him.

It was patent to both that for the meeting of Edmund's associates
to take place, as had been arranged just previously, would now only
involve them all in one common ruin; and arrangements were accordingly
made for them to be warned of the danger their presence would incur.
The conference, however, was prematurely ended by the advent of
the minions of the law, who, for once in a way, were prompt in the
execution of their duty, and in a very short space of time Edmund
found himself securely lodged within the precincts of Fleet Market
Gaol.

Little ceremony was shown him at his new resting-place, for no sooner
had the outer doors of the prison closed upon him than he was rapidly
dragged forward across the courtyard and thrust into a dimly-lighted,
evil-smelling room, the very appearance of which, with its
strongly-barred windows high up in the wall, and the massive studded
door which was closed and double locked upon him almost before he had
entered the room, struck a feeling of shrinking terror deeply into
the prisoner's heart. He sank disconsolately down upon the cold stone
bench just beside the door, and placing his elbows upon his knees, he
propped his head up between his hands, and peering into the dimness
bitterly bewailed his fate.

He was startled from the train of thought into which he had
unconsciously fallen by hearing a sound not far from him. He raised
his head and rubbed his eyes, half expecting to be confronted by a
spectral visitor; but not being able to distinguish anything in the
deep gloom to which his eyes were not yet accustomed, he dismissed
that theory, and ascribed the noise to the rats.

"Rats, ugh!" he exclaimed, and he lowered his head