"Well, the trial is worth the risk. I will confide in you once more, Laud; but if you deceive me, then, indeed, I care not what becomes of me. But I will trust you. Go!--There is some one coming." Laud departed, and Margaret busied herself with the linen. That day she had many things given her to mend. She contrived also to get a candle, under the pretence of working late. And such was the confidence which was placed in her, and such the quantity of work she performed, that she was trusted beyond any other prisoner in the house. Margaret knew nothing of the penalty the law would compel her to pay for breaking out of prison. She knew nothing of the bond by which the gaoler was bound, in case of the escape of any of his prisoners. She saw but her lover and liberty, and did not suppose it any great offence, even if she should be detected in the attempt. Her uncle Leader paid her a visit on the 5th, and gave her the thirty guineas, telling her that the hundred guineas were lodged in the hands of Mr. Ripshaw for the discharge of Will Laud. "I will give William this money myself," thought Margaret; but she breathed not one word of her intended escape to her uncle; and the good man left her with the conscious happiness, that let her term of confinement be what it might, she had been instrumental in procuring the release of her lover. It was a proud day for Margaret, that 6th of March, 1800. From the felons' side she could see her lover depart out of gaol in company with Mr. Ripshaw. She saw him go to the turnkey's lodge; and with a heart at the same time bounding with the hope of liberty, she walked quietly round the felons' yard, looking anxiously up at those long spikes to see where the widest place could be found for her to get her body through. That very hour she discovered a place where one of the spikes had been broken off. She looked at it and sighed. She was very thoughtful about it. It dwelt upon her mind night and day, till she had fully resolved to make the attempt at that very spot. At night, and early in the morning, she was at work for herself. Out of one sheet she contrived to make a smock-frock, such as shepherds wear over their clothes. Out of the other she made a pair of sailor's trousers. These she laid upon her bed in such an ingenious manner, that no one going into her cell would discover any difference in the usual make of it. Anxiously did she watch the hours for the departure of Mr. Ripshaw with the prisoners for trial at Bury. In the very cell next to her own was a felon to be taken away. The anxious time came, and Margaret saw the governor and prisoners take their departure.