“Then you had a very narrow escape; for, had I been the judge to have tried you, I should have been much inclined to have thought you guilty of connivance in this matter.”
“Then I am very glad, sir, that you are not a judge.”
The Lord Chief Baron did not tell him at the moment who he was.
The turnkey was quite ready to show him the way in which the escape had been made. He set up the frame exactly as he found it on the day of Margaret’s adventure, and showed him the very crotch with which she had fixed the line on the chevaux de frise. The broken spike on the roller was pointed out, and he informed the judge of the trousers and smock-frock which the prisoner had manufactured out of the sheets of her bed. After having examined minutely the place and the frame, and having heard the full report of the turnkey, he again said—
“What an artful woman she must be to do this, and to be able to deceive you in the sound of her voice from the adjoining cell!”
“Aye, sir; and had she not confessed this, I should have been puzzled, up to this hour, to account for her getting out of her cell, as I swore that I heard her answer from within, before I locked the door.”
“She must be a clever person.”
“Yes, sir, I believe she is. She owes a very great deal to a lady in this town, who has taken great pains with her.”
“So I have heard,” said the stranger. “I would give something to see that lady. I understand she is the wife of the gentleman from whom she stole the horse.”
“I wish the lady might call while you are here, sir. It is not unlikely that she may. Pray, sir, were you in court at the time of her trial?”