By this time the governor arrived upon the scene, the officers partially recovered from their consternation, and Newman, much less excited, was disposed to make light of the document recently esteemed so precious. She said it was only a copy; the original had been torn up. “What is it then?” “A paper from which my mother and I expect to gain our liberty. It relates to a person who was the cause of all our misfortunes.” On inspection it proved to be a statement, or dying confession, of one Mary Hewett, tending to exculpate the Newmans at her own expense—probably a draft of what Julia Newman wished Hewett to say. Three days later Julia was reported to be in a state of fury. Loud screaming proceeded from her cell. “I found her in a most violent paroxysm of rage,” says the governor. “It was most painful to see it. Not genuine madness did she evince, but that species of temporary frenzy to which an actress by force of imagination and violent effort could attain. Towards me she expressed the utmost abhorrence, and slammed the door in my face. I sent for the surgeon and some male officers, for her screams and yells, her violence in tearing her hair, and knocking her head against the wall, made it probable that forcible restraint would be necessary.” The surgeon did not wish to have her placed in a dark cell, nor even in a strait waistcoat, and at his recommendation she was taken to the infirmary and put in a room by herself; but she was not removed without a continuance of violent screaming, to the disturbance of the whole place. Papers were found in her cell, on one of which was written “a lampoon, composed in doggerel verses, in which she vented the bitterness of her revenge. I (Mr. Nihil) was the principal object of her ridicule. It is melancholy to see a young girl of talent and some attainments so bent upon deception, and when foiled in her artifice abandoning herself alternately to studied malice and furious rage.” She remained in the infirmary for three days at the special wish of the surgeon, though the governor wanted to have her back in her cell. All the time she continued to feign insanity—a clear imposture of which the doctors, the governor, and the assistant chaplain were all convinced. The governor visited her to endeavour to convince her of the folly and hopelessness of this course; but the moment she saw him she addressed him with the most insulting expressions, and seizing a can full of gruel threw it at his head. She was restrained from further violence, but continued to use the most outrageous exclamations, to the disturbance of the whole prison. The surgeon now consented to have her removed to a dark cell; and the governor remarks, “I can account for her personal hostility to myself thus. She has been defeated in several attempts to carry on clandestine communications. Until Monday last she cherished a hope of getting back among the other prisoners, where she