I found him in a sad condition, loaden with heavy irons, and had himself no prospect or hope of escaping. He told me he should die, but bid me be easy; for, as it would do him no good to accuse me, who never was out with any of them but that once, so I might depend upon it he would not bring me into the trouble. As for the rogue who had betrayed them all, he was not able to hurt me, for I might be satisfied he had never seen me in his life. “But, Colonel Jacque,” says he, “I will tell you who was with us, and that is, your brother the captain, and the villain has certainly named him; and, therefore,” says he, “if you can give him timely notice of it, do, that he may make his escape.” He said a great many things to warn me off following the steps he had led me. “I was far out, Jacque,” said he, “when I told you, to be a notorious thief was to live like a gentleman.” He chiefly discovered his concern that they had, as he feared, killed the gentleman’s gardener, and that he in particular had given him a wound in the neck, of which he was afraid he would die. He had a great sum of money in gold about him, being the same that I had carried back to him at the haystack; and he had concealed it so well that those who took him had not found it, and he gave me the greatest part of it to carry to his mother, which I very honestly delivered, and came away with a heavy heart. Nor did I ever see him since, for he was executed in about three weeks’ time after, being condemned that very next sessions. I had nothing to do now but to find the captain, who, though not without some trouble, I at last got news of, and told him the whole story, and how I had been taken up for him by mistake, and was come off, but that the warrant was still out for him, and very strict search after him; I say, telling him all this, he presently discovered by his surprise that he was guilty, and after a few words more, told me plainly it was all true, that he was in the robbery, and that he had the greatest part of the booty in keeping, but what to do with it, or himself, he did not know; and wanted me to tell him, which I was very unfit to do, for I knew nothing of the world. Then he told me he had a mind to fly into Scotland, which was easy to be done, and asked me if I would go with him. I told him I would, with all my heart, if I had money enough to bear the charge. He had the trade still in his eyes by his answer. “I warrant you,” says he, “we will make the journey pay our charge.” “I dare not think of going any more upon the adventure,” says I. “Besides, if we meet with any misfortune out of our knowledge, we shall never get out of it; we shall be undone.” “Nay,” says he; “we shall find no mercy here, if they can catch us, and they can do no worse abroad. I am for venturing at all events.”