“Or of Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey’s death?” he asked.

“Did you not write that letter concerning the dispatch of Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey?”

“No, sir,” cried the old man very loud.  “These are the words of a dying man.  I would not do it for a thousand worlds.”

He went on to affirm his innocence of all laid to his charge; and he ended by begging the prayers of all in the communion of the Roman Church in which he himself died.

When Mr. Anthony Turner had spoke a while, again Sheriff How interrupted him.

“You do only justify yourselves here,” he said.  “We will not believe a word that you say.  Spend your time in prayer, and we will not think your time too long.”

But Mr. Turner went on as before, affirming his entire innocence; and, at the end he prayed aloud, and I heard every word of it.

“O my dear Saviour and Redeemer,” he cried, lifting up his eyes, and his hands too as well as he could for the cords, “I return Thee immortal thanks for all Thou hast pleased to do for me in the whole course of my life, and now in the hour of my death, with a firm belief of all things Thou hast revealed, and a stedfast hope of obtaining everlasting bliss.  I cheerfully cast myself into the arms of Thy mercy, whose arms were stretched on the Cross for my redemption.  Sweet Jesus, receive my spirit.”

Then Mr. Gavan spoke to the same effect as the rest, but he argued a little more, and theologically too, being a young man; and spoke of Mariana the Jesuit who had seemed to teach a king-killing doctrine; but this sense on his words he repudiated altogether.  He too, at the end, commended his soul into the hands of God, and said that he was ready to die for Jesus as Jesus had died for him.

Mr. Fenwick had scarcely begun before Mr. Sheriff How broke in on him, and argued with him concerning the murder of Sir Edmund.

“As for Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey,” cried Mr. Fenwick, “I protest before God that I never saw the man in my life.”

“For my part,” said the Sheriff, “I am of opinion that you had a hand in it.”

“Now that I am a dying man,” said the priest, “do you think that I would go and damn my soul?”

“I wish you all the good that I can,” said Mr. How, “but I assure you I believe never a word you say.”

Well; he let him alone after that; and Mr. Fenwick finished, once more denying and renouncing the part that had been assigned to him, and maintaining his innocence.

There followed after that a very long silence, of half an hour, I should think.  The five men stood in the cart together, with their eyes cast down; and each, I think, absolved his neighbour.  The crowd about kept pretty quiet, only murmuring together; and cried no more insults at them.  I, too, did my best to pray with them and for them; but my horse was restless, and I had some ado to keep him quiet.  After a good while, Mr. Sheriff How spoke to them again.