“You may guess my surprise to hear you say that John Cook knew nothing about you; that he invented a lie to get me to steal the horse. This accords, however, with my beloved mistress’s opinion. Oh! how glad I am that I did not let out the secret that I had money of yours in hand! I should have lost everything if I had. He, a villain, induced me to go to London with the hope of seeing you at the Dog and Bone, Lambeth. He told me that you were hiding from the fear of arrest, and had confided to him your place of safety. He even showed me a letter purporting to come from you. Oh! what an artful villain!—what punishment he deserves!
“But, dear William, make yourself easy about the fine. I will send for my uncle Leader before the time of your imprisonment expires, and the hundred and thirty guineas shall be given up to you. He shall pay the fine for you, and shall give you the remainder. You will own now that I am trustworthy. Oh! how happy I am that I did not make away with it, nor suffer others to do so! I kept it for you, and it comes into use at the moment it is most wanted. Nobody need know how it is disposed of; only remember your poor Margaret, that she longs for the shortening of her confinement, that she may join herself with your fortunes wherever they may be.
“You will soon regain your liberty. I may have to complete my seven years here. But will you be faithful and wait for me? You promise fairly. You say you will live at Sudbourn, and try to get an honest living. Every hour of the day I am thinking about you; and at night I dream sometimes that I am sailing upon the ocean with you; sometimes that I am living with my father and brother. But dreams are deceitful. I hope you will never prove such to me again. I am willing to join my fate to yours whenever I obtain my release. Pray God that may be soon. Oh! that it could come on the day of your own release! but come or not then, believe me ever
| "Your affectionate |
| Margaret Catchpole.” |
Not long after the date of this letter, application was made to the Secretary of State for her pardon; but, unfortunately for her, the same causes which had operated against her before still prevailed. The crime of horse-stealing was at this date at its highest pitch, and depredators of this kind became so bold, that it was thought necessary to give a positive denial to the application in Margaret’s favour. The prospect of her release, therefore, did not appear a bright one, and every month seemed to make it less probable.
The time for the departure of Laud out of prison now drew nigh, and Margaret wrote to her uncle, requesting him to come and see her, which he did; and she then gave him full powers to withdraw the 130 guineas from Mr. Smith, and requested him to pay £100 into the hands of Mr. Ripshaw on a certain day; namely, the 5th of March, the day previous to Laud’s term of imprisonment expiring.
Mr. Leader was well assured that she would never draw the money, except to restore it to Will Laud. He asked her the plain question. She gave him an honest answer. She told him that Will was then in prison, and that his liberty depended upon the punctuality of the payment. Her honesty with her uncle saved her from detection, for, in all probability, had not Mr. Leader had more prudence than she had, it might have been suspected by the gaoler. He at once suggested that Mr. Smith, who was not known to have any connexion with her, should be requested to pay the fine to Mr. Ripshaw, in behalf of the prisoner. It struck Margaret, the moment it was mentioned, and she felt surprised that the hurry and anxiety of her own feelings should have so greatly blinded her as to leave her destitute of common prudence in this matter.
It was on the 3rd of March, in the year 1800, that Margaret was destined to undergo the severest temptation she had ever yet experienced. She had been employed in washing for the prisoners, and was engaged hanging out the linen in the passage on one of the clothes-horses used for that purpose, when she was accosted from the debtors’ side in a well-known voice, “Margaret! what a capital ladder one of those horses would make, if set against the wall!”
She turned round, and there stood Will Laud. Cautiously she looked along the passage to see if any one was near. She pretended to be busily engaged; at the same time she said,—
“Ah, William! I understand you. I wish I could make my escape with you, and I would; but I fear the thing is too difficult.”