'Four years,' she said, 'will more than suffice to ruin the man Merridew. His companies of thieves will be broken up; he will no longer have any hold over them. He will have to turn rogue himself. When all has been said, this is the greatest villain of them all. I hope they will not maltreat the prisoners in pillory; because there they are defenceless. But a thief-taker--a thief-taker, they cannot abide. If I were Mr. Merridew I should wish the job well over.' While we were discoursing there came a message from the Captain. Would Madame grant him the favour of speech with her? He came in, walking with his heavy clanking irons. He had lost the braggart swagger which he assumed at the trial, and now looked as humble as any pickpocket about to undergo the discipline of the pump. 'Madame,' he said, 'I thank you for this favour.' 'Your trial is over, Captain, I hear.' 'It is over,' he sighed. 'Mr. Halliday, Sir, I hope you are satisfied.' 'I desire no revenge,' I said. 'I want safety and peace--nothing more. These blessings you and your friends denied me.' 'It is quite true, Sir. It was a most damnable plot. The only excuse for me is that I had no choice but to comply and obey, or be hanged.' 'Captain, I do not desire more of your company than is necessary. Will you tell me what you want of me?' 'The sentence is'--he made a wry face--'Pillory, Pillory, Madame. And four years' imprisonment. But the four years will pass--what I fear is Pillory.' 'I have heard of a man's friends protecting him.' 'Mine will do what they can. But, Madame, my fear is not so much on my own account as that I may be put up on the same scaffold with Mr. Merridew or Mr. Probus. There isn't a rogue in London who will not come out with something for the thief-taker. Madame, no one knows the terror in which we poor robbers live. The world envies us our lot; they think it is glorious to ride out of a moonlight night and stop the coach all alone. They don't know that the thief-taker is always behind the highwayman. He lays his hand on the largest share of the swag; he encourages lads to take the roads, and whenever he wants money he says that the time is up and then he takes the reward. My time was up.' 'I know all this--unhappily--as well as you. What do you want me to do?' 'Mr. Probus--he will prove quite as unpopular as Merridew. They thirst for his blood. There will be murder done in the pillory. Madame, for the love of God, do something for me.' 'What?' 'You have great influence. Everybody knows what powerful friends you have. Make them put the two unpopular prisoners on the same scaffold. They will share the flints between them. Let me stand up beside the Bishop. Nobody will give us much more than a dead cat or two and a basket of rotten eggs. But the other two'--he shivered with cold terror--'I know not what will happen to them.'