be at least attempted; the necessary letters to his quakerly friends had not been forgotten, and everything arranged, they waited with impatience the hour for the attempt.

Accompanied by Pendrill, Young Watson left the shelter of Mr. Holl's house at half-past nine o'clock, March 5th, and with good wishes for his safety, his preserver bade God speed and assist him in his perils.

Young Watson was gone, and his protector looked back upon the danger he had run with fear, but not regret. He had sheltered what none others would; he had saved a fellow-creature's life, and he cared not for reward; it was enough for him that he had done his duty. He had saved the erring and rash-minded youth from the gibbet and the cord, and he was satisfied.

Young Watson and his friend Pendrill started forth to gain a shelter where they best could; for although in part secure in his disguise from the dangers that beset him, it had not lessened the apprehensions of those whose services he asked and needed. On leaving Camden town, they made the best of their way towards Somers Town, to the house of Moggridge, whose counsel and assistance they solicited as to where he could obtain a lodging for the night. This Moggridge said he could not give," there was too much risk in it," and where to get one was the question? After some consultation, Pendrill set out in the almost idle search, leaving Watson in the house of Moggridge, where he remained about two hours, much to the alarm of its owner, who was in great terror at the risk he ran for that short time, little thinking of the perils he had imposed on others!

His fears were at their height, when about 12 o'clock Pendrill returned, bringing with him a great coat, in which he proposed still further to shield Young Watson from the eye of suspicion or distrust; his return appeased, in some measure, Moggridge's apprehension, who afterwards said: "God forgive me! I thought he had gone to give us up."

And this spoken of the very man whom he had himself taken to the house of Mr. Holl, in direct violation of his pledge of secresy and silence!

Having wrapt Young Watson in the extra garment, Pendrill and he made their way to the house of a Mr. Dennison, a cutler, in Smithfield, where Young Watson was permitted to sleep, and where he remained in bed during the day, fearful of being seen. The next night, Pendrill took him to a Mr. Clarke, a friend of

Young Watson's, at whose house he slept, and remained concealed during the next few days, and where he made several little additions to his disguise, and also applied some means to remedy the defect of his drooping eyelid. His next removal was to Pendrill's house in Newgate Street, and but a short distance from: Beckwith's shop, the scene of his mad folly, the cause of so much peril to himself and others, and of death to his ill-starred rescuer. The execution of Cashman was fixed for the next day, and the noise of busy preparation in the erection of his scaffold, reached Watson as he lay. Barriers were thrown up to keep the people back, who were expected in multitudes to witness the execution, and the hammering, or heavy fall of timber, struck upon his ear the dreadful coming of the morrow! The man who saved his life was to suffer death-death for his fault! The thought was maddening, and each fresh sound smote as on his heart.

The outdoor sympathy for the condemned Cashman was great, and fearful of an outbreak, or attempt at rescue, the military had orders to be under arms, in readiness to repel any attempt of the expected multitude.

With the dim morning, the people came! The gallows was up! The man was to die! The fearful knell of the dying, and his awful doom, called them forth as with a soft voice from distant home and bed "to see the sight; "and the best view of mortal suffering was bartered from many a window front or house-top.

The grey morn had scarcely mixed with the black night, and seekers for the best places came straggling on, when a door opened, and Young Watson, Pendrill, and Moggridge, passed forth, and made their way through those who came or those who had already made their stand. Passed by the very side of those who had sought him far and wide. Him, whose name uttered on that spot, would have made them spring as at a started deer. He and his companions passed unsuspected on, and meeting still at every turn fresh comers to the scene of death, shaped their way towards Gravesend.

The vessel in which he had secured his berth, "the Venus," had dropped down the river, from the docks; and once on board, he trusted to escape a doom, the dismal preparations for which he had so lately left behind. On they went, walking with stout limbs and eager hopes to Gravesend.

Meanwhile, the game of death went on! The daylight came, and the busy crowd streamed in to see their fellow suffer. The

barriers erected kept them in partial check, and aided by numerous police officers and their assistants, the people were held back from pressing too closely on the immediate neighbourhood of the gallows.

The bell had tolled. Newgate gave up its prey, and the cart

came on.

The multitude was vast. And as the sheriffs advanced with that fearful cart and its death-doomed load, the mob, in expression of their indignation, began to groan and hiss; attempts were made at rescue, and to rush forward, but the barriers prevented their encroachment, and the crowd was beaten back. Cashman alone seemed careless of the fate awaiting him, and on leaving Newgate, had said: "I am going to die, but I shall not shrink. I have done nothing against my king and country, I have always fought for them."

The cart came rolling on-halted-and Cashman mounted the gallows steps with a light and bounding tread. The moment he appeared on the platform, the groans of indignation mingled with hisses, were redoubled. The executioner, to hasten his work, began to draw the cap over his face, when he exclaimed, for God's sake, let me see to the last. His wish was complied with. The bolt was drawn-the man was dead-dead without a struggle.

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The street was thronged as for a fair; windows and housetops, filled with eager eyes, gazed on the sickening spectacle! Alone, the house of Beckwith looked with darkened windows on the sight!

Meanwhile, Watson and his companions journeyed on their way to Gravesend. Hoping, but fearful in their hope, they passed along, and covered the long miles with willing feet. The town was gained; the vessel was in sight. Yes, there it lay upon the waters, to him, at least, a thing of life, of hope, and liberty.

As it was not thought advisable to Young Watson's companions that they should accompany him on board, with a "God bless you!" they parted with the flying man, and after resting from their lengthened walk, they journeyed back as best they could, and left Young Watson to the accomplishment of his flight.

On deck, and mid the murmur of a hundred tongues, he dwelt alone upon the thought of freedom-of escape from danger and pursuit. Yet up and down he walked and felt each eye was on his, eager and suspicious! Fearful himself, he conjured up a thousand and a thousand foes, who crossed him as he walked!

Who shall

know the thoughts of that young man, who fled from death, yet feared its peril still at every turn? Alone, he walked the deck, away from friends, from kindred, all he valued-alone, and with but one thought-life!

The time had come, and the vessel was to sail. Fond eyes were stretching to the distant shore, while others looked with sadness on their own, and wondered if they ever should see it more! The vessel was to sail, the goods were shipped, the passengers on board. The sails were spread, and swelling in the wind, the ready ship obeyed their impulse, and with eager leap ploughed up the tide! All looked with curious eyes upon the seaman's craft, as sail on sail came swaying down, and caught the willing breeze-all looked-but there was still a pair of eyes, that looked intense, and burning! The anchor weighed, and all was ready for a start, when-Bomb! A gun was fired from the shore, the signal to lie to.

Had the shot struck his brain, it would scarce have pained him less. Young Watson sank upon a seat, sick, and powerless.

With straining eyes, he saw a boat put from the shore-near and nearer it came to the stayed ship, and seated in the fatal craft, he recognised Vickery and Lavender, two Bow Street officers.

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'Fancy," he said when writing from a distant land.

"Fancy

my feeling of despair, when as the boat neared the vessel's side, I saw my old enemies-Vickery and Lavender, seated in the stern. They had some clue to my method of escape-they had tracked me, and I gave myself up for lost." The boat reached the gangway-was fastened to it, and the two officers, attended by a magistrate, mounted the ship's side. They were followed -Young Watson could scarce believe the evidence of his sight -by an old and bosom friend of his-a Mr. Whittaker, a clerk in Somerset House. Escape was hopeless-he was in their grasp !

It afterwards appeared, this young man had been pressed into the aid of the police (who had evidently obtained some clue to Young Watson's means of escape) in the hopes some sudden look, or exclamation, would betray him to their sight. For there is no reason to suppose Mr. Whittaker ever would have played so false a part as to turn bloodhound in the service of the law, and scent his early friend unto his death. Whether or not he recognised Young Watson, and had sufficient command over his

countenance not to betray him, must ever remain a mystery, though the young man's appearance was so changed, that even his old friend might pass him by, unheeded, and unknown.

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Once on board, the officers eyed round them with a keen and searching look. They came," they said, "in search of some person who had committed murder. Every one was subject to the strictest scrutiny, and fearful of detection, Young Watson was about to go below, and so to find a hiding-place, among the many. recesses of the vessel; 'twas well that he did not-for a list of passengers was demanded by the officers, who told them off by their names. The crew was subject to the like inspection and thevessel strictly searched.

The officers were evidently at fault; all were on deck, and one by one they were made to "run the gauntlet," and to pass between the officers, the magistrate, and Young Watson's friend. A lynx-eyed watch was kept, not only on his countenance, but on that of each who passed; when, strange to state, and affording another proof of the singularity of Young Watson's escapes, a young woman who was about to pass between the officers, fainted; whether from fear or what, we know not-she was about joining a brother in America, and had lately come on board; fearful as it was supposed of detention or some hindrance to her passage, she fainted as she was about to pass, and drew upon herself the greedy eyes of the police, who looked with much suspicion and distrust upon her fainting form. Young Watson, with a quickness, and readiness of wit, only met with in trying circumstances, immediately proffered his assistance to "support the young lady while they pursued their search." The offer was accepted, and the search went on. Passengers, crew, all passed; and, one by one, they underwent the keen and searching inspection of the police.

In the meantime, Watson placed the fainting woman on a seat, and moved between the officers as they stood-less perhaps an object of suspicion, from his recent ready aid, than those who but obeyed the call, and went through the ordeal with indifference or complaint. He walked between them, and his heart in his anxiety beat with such a heavy pulse, he feared "the officer must have heard it as he passed. The peril of his situation, and fear of his detection, made it distinct, at least to him.

He

passed, and his joy may be conceived, when he heard one officer whisper to the other, He is not here."

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NO. XXXIV.-VOL. VI.