In deep clear tones he addressed the multitude.  “Fellow-men, you are assembled here this day to see me die.  You believe me guilty of a dreadful crime; the most dreadful crime that a human creature can commit—­the murder of a parent.  Here, before you all, and in the presence of Almighty God, I declare my innocence.  I neither committed the murder nor am I acquainted with the perpetrators of the deed.  God will one day prove the truth of my words.  To Him I leave the vindication of my cause; He will clear from my memory this infamous stain.  Farewell!”

“He cannot be guilty!” exclaimed some.

“The hardened wretch!” cried others.  “To take God’s name in vain, and die with a lie upon his lips.”

The prisoner now resigned himself to the hangman’s grasp; but whilst the fatal noose was adjusting, a cry—­a wild, loud, startling cry—­broke upon the crowd, rising high into the air and heard above all other sounds.  Again and again it burst forth, until it seemed to embody itself into intelligible words; “Stop! stop!” it cried, “stop the execution!  He is innocent! he is innocent!”

The crowd caught up the cry; and “He is innocent! he is innocent!” passed from man to man.  A young female was now seen forcing a passage through the dense mass.  The interest became intense; every one drew closer to his neighbor, to make way for the bearer of unexpected tidings, who, arriving within a few yards of the scaffold, again called out in shrill tones, which found an echo in every benevolent heart—­“Godfrey Hurdlestone and William Mathews are the real murderers.  I heard them form the plot.  I saw the deed done!”

“Damnation!—­we are betrayed!” whispered Godfrey to his colleague in crime, as they fled from the scene.

All was now uproar and confusion.  The sheriff and his officers at length succeeded in quieting the excited populace, and removed the prisoner once more to his cell.

“I trust, my son, that the bitterness of death is past,” said the chaplain, who accompanied him hither.  “The God in whom you trusted has been strong to save.”

“And where, where is my preserver?” asked Anthony, rising from his knees, after returning humble and heartfelt thanks to God for his preservation.

“She is here,” said Mary, kneeling at his feet.  “Here to bless and thank you for all your unremitted kindness to a wretch like me.  Oh!  I feared that I should be too late; that all would be over before my feeble limbs would bring me to the spot.  I have been ill, Mr. Anthony, dreadfully ill; I couldn’t speak to tell them that you were innocent; but it lay upon my heart day by day, and it burnt into my brain like fire.  But they did not comprehend me; they could not understand my ravings.  At last I stole from my bed, when they were all absent, and put on my clothes, and hurried out into the blessed air.  The winds of heaven blew upon me and my reason returned; and God gave me strength, and brought me here in time to save your life.  Yes, you are saved.  Blessed be God’s name for ever.  You are saved, and by me!”