* * * * *

The end came unexpectedly.  Just when he thought he had gained his self-control again, so as to make no sound at any rate, the hurdle stopped.  He clenched his teeth to meet the dreadful wrench with which it would move again; but it did not.  Instead there was a man down by him, untying his bonds.  He lay quite still when they were undone; he did not know which limb to move first, and he dreaded to move any.

“Now then,” said the voice, with a touch of compassion, he thought.

He set his teeth, gripped the arm and raised himself—­first to his knees, then to his feet, where he stood swaying.  An indescribable roar ascended steadily on all sides; but he could see little of the crowd as yet.  He was standing in a cleared space, held by guards.  A couple of dozen persons stood here; three or four on horseback; and one of these he thought to be my lord Shrewsbury, but he was not sure, since his head was against the glare of the sun.  He turned a little, still holding to the man’s arm, and not knowing what to do, and saw a ladder behind him; he raised his eyes and saw that its head rested against the cross-beam of a single gallows, that a rope hung from this beam, and that a figure sitting astride of this cross-beam was busy with this rope.  The shock of the sight cooled and nerved him; rather, it drew his attention all from himself....  He looked lower again, and behind the gallows was a column of heavy smoke going up, and in the midst of the smoke a cauldron hung on a tripod.  Beside the cauldron was a great stump of wood, with a chopper and a knife lying upon it....  He drew one long steady breath, expelled it again, and turned back to my lord Shrewsbury.  As he turned, he saw him make a sign, and felt himself grasped from behind.

III

He reached at last with his hands the rung of the ladder on which the executioner’s foot rested, hearing, as he went painfully up, the roar of voices wax to an incredible volume.  It was impossible for any to speak so that he could hear, but he saw the hands above him in eloquent gesture, and understood that he was to turn round.  He did so cautiously, grasping the man’s foot, and so rested, half sitting on a rung, and holding it as well as he could with his two hands.  Then he felt a rope pass round his wrists, drawing them closer together....  As he turned, the roar of voices died to a murmur; the murmur died to silence, and he understood and remembered.  It was now the time to speak....  He gathered for the last time all his forces together.  With the sudden silence, clearness came back to his mind, and he remembered word for word the little speech he had rehearsed so often during the last week.  He had learned it by heart, fearful lest God should give him no words if he trusted to the moment, lest God should not see fit to give him even that interior consolation which was denied to so many of the saints—­yet