Having restored the general and his secretary to a state of happiness, Don Perez took his departure, when they went quietly to bed, giving themselves no more trouble about the hanging, and entertaining only a slight misgiving as to the nature of the punishment substituted.  But of this they were made conscious when morning came.  And here I venture to assert that not even the most famous inventor of prison discipline for once dreamed of so curious a mode of punishment as that I am about to describe, and which I seriously recommend as a cure that may be profitably applied to vagrants, idle politicians, and all such persons as live by destroying the peace of the community.

When breakfast was over, three solemn-faced priests, followed by two attendants, entered General Roger Potter’s apartment, to the no small discomfiture of Mr. Tickler, to whose mind all the horrors of hanging suddenly returned.  “Gentlemen,” spoke one of the priests, “we are come to prepare your souls for the punishment which it has pleased our royal master to order.”  “Pray, your reverence, your royal master had better be mindful lest this punishment cost him his crown.  But as you are humane gentlemen, be good enough to enlighten us as to what sort of punishment his Majesty has substituted for the hanging?” inquired the now undaunted general.

“It is enjoined that we hold our peace,” replied the priest; “but of the punishment you will know quick enough.”  And now, when the priests had prayed devoutly for the souls of the culprits, they accompanied them to a building bearing a strong resemblance to a Vermont corn-shed, where two attendants, having first stripped “the Ambassador” and his secretary to their shirts, chained them back to back, and in this pitiful plight compelled them to sit on a huge block of ice, until it was dissolved.  And when this punishment was inflicted, it was ordered by the king that they be conveyed beyond the limits of the state.  “I know not what you think of this punishment, friend Tickler,” said the general, evincing much discomfiture as he took his seat “but to my mind, this being condemned to sit on a block of ice until it dissolves, in nowise becomes my military position, to say nothing of my standing as a minister.”

“Faith, your excellency, I begin to think we have both been well fooled, for the smart of this ingenious punishment is more than I have mettle to endure.”  Tickler had scarce uttered this sentence when he began to scream at the very top of his voice; and to declare the pain so acute that he would much prefer the hanging.

“I am fast coming to your way of thinking, friend Tickler,” replied the general, as the priests began offering them consolation, “for every bone from the top of my head to the soul of my feet begins yielding to the pain, which feels as if ten thousand needles were shooting through me.”