The next day the Queen's answer was obtained--"He is not to be executed; let him remain where he is." The poor lady's heart fainted within her, but she thought of the widow and the unjust judge, and persevered day after day in applying to every member of the royal family or of Government to entreat for her husband's liberation.

The King's mother, sisters, and brother were all interested in his favour, but none of them ventured to apply direct to the King lest they should offend the favourite Queen.

All failed, but the hopes that from time to time were excited, kept up the spirits of the sufferers.
During the long weary months while the missionaries continued in fetters, _i.e._ chained by the feet to a bar of bamboo, Mrs.Judson was often not allowed to visit them for ten days at a time, and then only by walking to the prison after dark, two miles, unattended.

She could, however, communicate with her husband by means of the provisions she sent him daily.

At first she used to write on the dough of a flat cake, which she afterwards baked and concealed in a bowl of rice, while he answered by writing on a tile, where the inscription disappeared when dry but was visible when wet; but latterly they found it most convenient to write on a roll of paper hidden in the long nose of a coffee-pot, in which tea was sent to the prisoners.
Mrs.Judson delighted to send him little surprises, once a mince-pie, which Moung Ing carried with the utmost pride to his imprisoned master.
Mrs.Judson found herself obliged to wear the native dress, though she was so much taller than the Burmese women that she could be hardly taken for one of them.