"'Any prisoner breaking out of gaol, if he resist his gaoler, may be killed on the spot, in the attempt of the gaoler to restrain him. And any person breaking out after sentence of death, shall be considered liable to that punishment for his original offence, which had been commuted, and shall suffer death accordingly. If he escape through the door of his prison, when left open, it shall not be felony, because it is the negligence of the gaoler; but if he break out, after proper caution exercised for his security, either by force in the day, or by subtlety in the night, then it shall be felony.' "Such is the law; and though in your case, young woman, you may not consider it just, yet when you reflect upon your example to others, you will see it in a different light. If every prisoner should go unpunished who broke out of prison what continual attempts would be made to escape! I am truly sorry for your case; but the law is made for offenders; and it is our duty to send you to Bury again for trial. In the meantime, the gaoler will be upon the alert, and take good care that you do not commit the same offence again." Margaret thanked Mr. Gibson for his explanation. She felt very sorry, she said, if she had offended any one, and hoped they would forgive her ignorance and unintentional offence. She was fully committed to take her trial for the second offence. Mr. Gibson was much astonished at her presence of mind and singularly acute understanding, as well as appropriate and becoming form of speech, which she used as naturally as she felt it. His words to one deeply interested for Margaret were, "What a pity that such a woman should not know the value of her liberty before she lost it!" The reader knows the reason why Margaret broke out of prison, and has seen how she became a second time amenable to the laws. He will observe, that it was from her acquaintance with that desperate man, who had been the cause of misery to her and her family, from the first days of her acquaintance with him. But he was now dead. The cause was removed, and with it died every wish of her heart for life and liberty. But it was not the place that made Margaret so unhappy. It was the void occasioned by the having no one now to love, that made her feel as if no one in the world loved her. In this she was greatly mistaken; for though her offence had occasioned much condemnation among those who were interested in her, yet they were not so lost to pity and compassion as not to feel for her sufferings. Among the foremost of those friends was her former mistress, who, in the true sense of the word, was charitable.