“The foreigners had spent about seven months in prison, when suddenly a change came. One day a band of men rushed into the prison-yard, and while some seized the white prisoners, and added two more pairs of fetters to the three they already wore, others began tearing down Mrs. Judson’s little bamboo room, snatching up pillows and mattresses, and whatever other articles came within their reach. At last the prisoners, after having half the clothing torn from their persons, were thrust into the common prison, and, with a bamboo between their legs, again stretched upon the bare floor. Here were more than a hundred miserable wretches, shut from every breath of air except such as could find its way between the crevices in the boards, groaning with various tortures, and rattling their chains, as they groped in the gray light, and writhed and twisted themselves, as much as was in their power, from side to side, in the vain endeavor to obtain some ease by change of position. It was the commencement of the hot season, and the heat was not lessened by the fevered breaths of that crowd of sufferers, nor the close air purified by the exhalations which arose from their bodies. Night came, but brought with it no rest. A whisper had passed around the prison, whether through malice or accident, that the foreigners would be led out to execution at three in the morning; and the effect on the little band was not so much in accordance with natural temperament as the transforming principle of faith. Bold men were cowards, and weak men grew strong. At first Mr. Judson felt a pang of regret that he was to go at last without saying farewell to his unsuspecting wife and child. But gradually the feeling changed, and he would not have had it different if he could. She had left him in comparative comfort that day; she would come the next, and find him beyond her care. It would be a terrible shock at first; but she would be spared much anxious suffering, and he could almost fancy that she would soon learn to rejoice that he was safe in glory. As for herself, the Burmans had always treated her with some respect; she seemed to have gained immunity from personal insult, while her intrepidity had won their admiration; and he did not believe that even the rudest of them would dare to do her harm. No; fruitful in resources as she had proved herself, she would get an appointment to carry some message of peace to the English, and so place herself under their protection. It would be a blessing to her and to his child if he was removed from them; and he thanked God that his time was so near at hand. He felt thankful, too, that the execution was to take place in the morning. He should pass his own door on the way. There he might breathe his silent farewell, while she was spared the parting agony. He thought of Burmah, too, even then. The English would most likely be conquerors;