the rescue of the young man, for he cared nothing about his own fate. Next to the Edinburgh city jail was a church, to which criminals under sentence of death were led by a strong guard on the Sunday previous to their execution. Wilson and Robertson, each between two soldiers of the City Guard, sat in the pew set apart for persons in their unfortunate situation on a certain Sunday, while the officiating clergyman preached an affecting sermon, part of which was ad#-dressed to the prisoners. Robertson wept, but Wilson's countenance bore a look of fixed determination, and his thoughts seemed far away. The congregation glanced towards the two men, but their suspicion was not excited by anything they saw; on the contrary, compassion was aroused, and after the benediction had been pronounced, many lingered to take a last look, as they supposed, at the unfortunate criminals. Suddenly Wilson seized two of the soldiers, one with each hand, called to his companion, "Run, Geordie, run!" threw himself on the third, and fastened his teeth in the collar of his coat. For an instant Robertson was so taken aback that he did not stir, but the cry of "Run, run!" that arose from every part of the church recalled him to himself; so he shook off the grasp of the fourth soldier, jumped over the pew-railing, and disappeared through the church door, the crowd making way for him, and covering his retreat. From that time the practice of taking culprits to church has been discontinued. Now Wilson was looked upon as a hero, and it was whispered that the mob of Edinburgh, who always favored {109}such offenders, would help him to escape also. Murmurs to this effect reached the ears of the magistrates, who ordered John Porteous to be at the place of execution with the City Guard at the time appointed for Wilson to expiate his crime. This defence not being deemed sufficient, a regular infantry regiment besides was drawn up on the principal streets of the city, to intimidate the people in case they purposed any interference with the officers of justice. John Porteous became most indignant at this arrangement, for he was jealous of the sound of any drums besides his own within the city limits. He could not vent his ill-humor on the magistrates, but resolved to do so on poor Wilson, whom he ordered to be manacled as soon as he was delivered over to his charge by the prison keeper. This was done to prevent any possibility of escape, but the handcuffs were too small for the wrists of so powerful a man as Wilson, so the captain forced them on with his own hands until they clasped, and tortured the criminal dreadfully. Wilson remonstrated against such barbarity, and declared that the pain distracted his thoughts from their proper course at such a solemn moment. "It signifies little," replied Captain Porteous; "your pain will soon be at an end."