Having disentangled himself from this awkward misconception, the gallant captain raced on along the wharf and came up with Blood just as he was getting to horse. Blood turned short and point blank fired his second pistol at Beckman’s head. But a pistol in those days took some time to go off, which gave the captain time to duck his head and, charging low, to seize the reverend gentleman. A severe struggle then took place. The captain thinking more of the Crown itself than of the man who held it, instead of overpowering him tried to snatch the Crown from him. Blood resisted lustily but Beckman prevailed, and thus roughly handled he secured it. But naturally the stones being much loosened by the previous hammering, several here also fell out, though eventually all with a few comparatively insignificant exceptions were recovered. Blood and Parrett were now overpowered and captured, whilst Hunt, who was Blood’s son-in-law, though he got to horse, in galloping off hit his head against a pole sticking out from a laden wagon, and being dismounted was also captured. The three were immediately placed in the securest dungeons in the Tower, and word was sent to Sir Gilbert Talbot, the Keeper of the Jewel House, who at once informed the King. Those looking for a lurid and sanguinary end to this story will be disappointed. Considering the time and the penalties which were exacted on such comparatively venal offences as the stealing of sheep, one is naturally prepared to hear that Colonel Blood and his accomplices were at the shortest notice drawn on hurdles to Tyburn and there hanged, drawn, and quartered. But Fate plays curious tricks with the lives of men. The Merry Monarch, instead of being in the least annoyed with this audacious attempt which so nearly lost him his regal emblems, roared with laughter and ordered that the chief culprit should be sent for judgment to the highest court in the realm, the King himself.