He now opened to the same associates an equally daring but much more profitable scheme, had it been successful: to carry off the Crown Jewels. It was thus carried out—Blood one day came to see the Regalia, dressed as a parson, and accompanied by a woman whom he called his wife; the latter professing to be suddenly taken ill, was invited by the keeper's wife into the adjoining apartment. Thus an intimacy was formed which was so well improved by Blood, that he arranged a match between a nephew of his and the keeper's daughter, and a day was appointed for the young people to meet. At the appointed hour came the pretended parson, the pretended nephew, and two others, armed with rapier blades in their canes, daggers and pocket pistols—a nice wedding party indeed.
FAILURE TO GET A CROWN.
One of the number made some pretence for staying at the door as a watch, while the others passed into the Jewel house, the parson having expressed a desire that the Regalia should be shown to his friends, while they were waiting for the approach of Mrs. Edwards, the keeper's wife, and her daughter. No sooner was the door closed than a cloak was thrown over the old man and a gag was forced into his mouth; and thus secured they told him their object, telling him at the same time that he was safe if he kept quiet. The poor old man, however, faithful to the trust imposed in him, exerted himself to the utmost in spite of the blows they dealt him, till he was stabbed and became senseless. Blood now slipped the Crown under his cloak, another secreted the Orb, and a third, with great industry, was engaged in filing the Sceptre into two parts, when one of those coincidences, which a novelist would hardly dare to use, much less to invent, gave a new turn to the proceedings.
The keeper's son, who had been in Flanders, returned at this critical moment. At the door he was met by an accomplice, stationed there as a sentinel, who asked him with whom he would speak. Young Edwards replied, "I belong to the house," and hurried upstairs; and the sentinel, I suppose, not knowing how to prevent the catastrophe he must have feared otherwise than by a warning to his friends, gave the alarm.
A general flight ensued, amidst which the robbers heard the voice of the old keeper once more loudly shouting, "Treason! murder," which, being heard by the young lady, who was waiting anxiously to see her lover, she ran out into the open air, reiterating the same cry. The alarm became general and outstripped the conspirators.
A warder first attempted to stop them, but being very fat, at the charge of a pistol which was fired, he fell down without waiting to know if he was hurt, and so they passed his post. At the next door, Sill, a sentinel, not to be outdone in prudence, offered no opposition, and they passed the drawbridge.
At St. Katharine's Gate their horses were waiting for them; and as they ran along the Tower wharf they joined in the cry of "Stop the rogues," and so passed on unsuspected till Captain Beckman, a brother-in-law of young Edwards, overtook the party.
Blood fired a pistol but missed the Captain, and was immediately made prisoner.
The Crown was found under his cloak, which, prisoner as he was, he would not yield without a struggle.
"It was a gallant attempt, however unsuccessful," were the witty and ambitious fellow's first words; "it was for a Crown!"