Part 26 (1/2)

Those who watched with Fawkes said he partook of no food, slept not--neither spoke, and refused to utter the names of his fellow conspirators. He sat all day in his cell without moving. At times there came into his drawn and haggard face a strange and unearthly light, as though he suddenly beheld a form glide from out the shadow of the dungeon, and kneel beside him. At these moments he would stretch forth his arms as if to embrace the airy figure of his brain, and whisper, nodding his head slowly the while: ”Thou wert all I had--in a moment, darling;--wait until thy father can but pa.s.s this dreary portal.”

They put him to the rack, but elicited nothing. He endured the torture as though scarce feeling it; and even in agony, was heard to mutter: ”In a moment, my little one--but a moment more.”

His trial, with that of the others implicated in the plot, was over.

The sentence of death had been p.r.o.nounced upon each. Three days after, Everard Digsby, with Robert Winter and Grant, met death by hanging in the churchyard of St. Paul's. Three remained awaiting the headsman's axe--Thomas Winter, Keyes and Guido Fawkes.

Their execution was antic.i.p.ated by the populace of London with unwonted eagerness. The desire of the people to see justice meted to those whom they deemed the prime movers in a conspiracy which had shaken England to its foundation, was only rivaled by the curiosity resident in each heart, to behold the one who, with undaunted nerve, had stood beneath the House of Lords ready to fire the mine which would rob the kingdom at one fell blow of both its monarch and Parliament.

In that age public executions were signals for general holidays; people flocked from the most distant s.h.i.+res, decked in best attire, to witness the doing to death of some poor malefactor. But this was no ordinary occasion; and, as if to emphasize the fact, a great throng had a.s.sembled at Westminster even before the sun arose, on the day set apart for the beheading of the remaining three conspirators.

At an early hour companies of halberdiers were forced to exercise their authority in keeping the crowd at proper distance from the ominous structure erected in the middle of the square. The object about which this innumerable concourse of people gathered was a high platform covered with black cloth, in the center of which stood the block. The condemned men had been brought from the Tower shortly after midnight, and were now lodged in the s.p.a.ce beneath the scaffold, which had been converted into a kind of closed pen.

The hour for the execution was eleven, and as the time approached the mult.i.tude gradually swelled, being increased by thousands; as though some pitiless monster were fattening itself upon thoughts of the blood so soon to be shed.

Again and again the pikemen were forced to thrust back the surging ma.s.s, and at last the soldiers did not hesitate to use their weapons as the throng forced its way up to the very ropes surrounding the scaffold. But now above the babel of tongues the great bell of the Cathedral boomed out the hour of eleven. As its last note died away the roar of voices gradually subsided, until it sunk into a dull murmur of expectancy, but again it broke forth into a cheer as the headsman ascended the stairs leading to the scaffold. This man was popular with the rabble and noted for his dexterity and strength. As the applause greeted him he recognized the homage rendered with a bow.

His was a gruesome figure, as, attired in the costume of the office, his features concealed by a scarlet mask, he leaned easily upon the handle of the glittering axe--and waited.

Soon four soldiers, under command of an officer, approached the door of the inclosure and stood two on either side with halberds reversed.

A moment of breathless stillness followed; the portal opened and one victim was led forth. Surrounded by guards he was solemnly conducted to the foot of the steps leading to the block. Keyes, for it was he, ascended without aid, and reached the platform. A murmur of disappointment ran through the mult.i.tude as he came into view, for they had supposed Fawkes would be the first to die.

The man for an instant stood quite still; he had been the first of the little procession to reach the top, and seemed undecided which direction to take, but only for a moment stood he thus; two of the guards quickly approached and led him toward the center of the scaffold. He knelt without a.s.sistance, laid his cheek upon the block, his right shoulder resting in the notch fastened for its reception.

The soldiers retired. The headsman drew back, swiftly raised the axe above his head, measured the distance with a practiced eye, and struck.

The favorite of the rabble had again acquitted himself well. The head of the victim fell on one side of the block, the quivering trunk sinking to the floor upon the other. A cheer greeted the deed, then silence once more fell upon the mult.i.tude. Some soldiers now appeared carrying a box of sand. They quickly ascended the steps and scattered its contents upon the wet boards. Having finished, one of the men seized the head which still lay where it had fallen, fixed it upon the point of his pike and stuck the weapon with its gruesome burden upon the railing. The headless trunk was flung without ceremony into a cart which was in waiting.