CHAPTER XVI.
OLD PALACE YARD.
Guy Fawkes's tranquillity of mind did not desert him to the last. On thecontrary, as his term of life drew near its close, he became morecheerful and resigned; his sole anxiety being that all should bespeedily terminated. When Ipgreve took leave of him for the night, hethrew himself on his couch and soon fell into a gentle slumber. Hisdreams were soothing, and he fancied that Viviana appeared to him cladin robes of snowy whiteness, and regarding him with a smilingcountenance, promised that the gates of eternal happiness would beopened to him on the morrow.
Awaking about four o'clock, he passed the interval between that time andhis summons by the jailer in earnest prayer. At six o'clock, Ipgrevemade his appearance. He was accompanied by his daughter, who hadprevailed on him to allow her to take leave of the prisoner. Sheacquainted Fawkes with all particulars of the interment of Viviana, towhich he listened with tearful interest.
"Would my remains might be laid beside her!" he said. "But fate forbidsit!"
"Truly, does it," observed Ipgreve, gruffly; "unless you would have herbody removed to the spikes of Whitehall gates."
Disregarding this brutal speech, which called a blush of shame to thecheeks of Ruth, Fawkes affectionately pressed her hand, and said,
"Do not forget me in your prayers, and sometimes visit the grave ofViviana."
"Doubt it not," she replied, in accents half suffocated by grief.
Fawkes then bade her farewell, and followed the jailer through variousintricate passages, which brought them to a door opening upon one of thelower chambers of the Beauchamp Tower. Unlocking it, Ipgreve led theway up the circular staircase, and ushered his companion into the largechamber where Rookwood, Keyes, and Thomas Winter were already assembled.
The morning was clear, but frosty, and bitterly cold; and when thelieutenant appeared, Rookwood besought him to allow them a fire as theirlast earthly indulgence. The request was peremptorily refused. A cup ofhot spiced wine was, however, offered them, and accepted by all exceptFawkes.
At the same hour as on the previous day, the hurdles were brought to theentrance of the fortification, and the prisoners bound to them. Therecorder and sheriffs met them at the Middle Tower, as they had done theother conspirators, and the cavalcade set forth. The crowd was evengreater than on the former occasion; and it required the utmost exertionon the part of the guard to maintain order. Some little delay occurredat Ludgate; and during this brief halt, Rookwood heard a cry, andlooking up, perceived his wife at the upper window of one of thehabitations, waving her handkerchief to him, and cheering him by hergestures. He endeavoured to answer her by signs; but his hands were fastbound, and the next moment, the cavalcade moved on.
At Temple Bar another halt occurred; and as the train moved slowlyforward, an immense crowd, like a swollen stream, swept after it. Thetwo gates at Whitehall, then barring the road to Westminster, wereopened as the train approached, and a certain portion of the concourseallowed to pass through. The scaffold, which had been removed from SaintPaul's, was erected in the middle of Old Palace Yard, in front of theHouse of Lords. Around it were circled a band of halberdiers, outsidewhom stood a dense throng. The buttresses and pinnacles of the Abbeywere covered with spectators; so was the roof of the Parliament House,and the gallery over the entrance.
The bell of the Abbey began to toll as the train passed through thegates of Whitehall, and its deep booming filled the air. Just as theconspirators were released from the hurdles, Topcliffe, who hadevidently from his disordered attire arrived from a long journey, rodeup, and dismounted.
"I am just in time," he cried, with an exulting glance at theconspirators; "this is not the last execution I shall witness. FathersGarnet and Oldcorne are prisoners, and on their way to London. I was along time in unearthing the priestly foxes, but I succeeded at last."
At this moment an officer approached, and summoned Thomas Winter tomount the scaffold. He obeyed, and exhibited no symptom of quailing,except that his complexion suddenly turned to a livid colour. Being toldof this by the lieutenant, he tried to account for it by saying that hethought he saw his brother precede him up the steps. He made a briefaddress, protesting he died a true Catholic, and in that faith,notwithstanding his offences, hoped to be saved.
Rookwood followed him, and indulged in a somewhat longer oration. "Iconfess my offence to God," he said, "in seeking to shed blood, andimplore his mercy. I likewise confess my offence to the King, of whosemajesty I humbly ask forgiveness; and I further confess my offence tothe whole state, of whom in general I entreat pardon. May the Almightybless the King, the Queen, and all their royal progeny, and grant them along and happy reign! May He turn their hearts to the Catholic faith, sothat heresy may be wholly extirpated from the kingdom!"
The first part of this speech was well received by the assemblage, butthe latter was drowned in groans and hootings, amid which Rookwood waslaunched into eternity.
Keyes came next, and eyeing the assemblage disdainfully, went up theladder, and threw himself off with such force that he broke the rope,and was instantly despatched by the executioner and his assistants.
Guy Fawkes now alone remained, and he slowly mounted the scaffold. Hisfoot slipped on the blood-stained boards, and he would have fallen, ifTopcliffe, who stood near him, had not caught his hand. A deep silenceprevailed as he looked around, and uttered the following words in aclear and distinct voice:--
"I ask forgiveness of the King and the state for my criminal intention,and trust that my death will wash out my offence."
He then crossed himself and knelt down to pray, after which his cloakand doublet were removed by the executioner's assistant and placed withthose of the other conspirators. He made an effort to mount the ladder,but his stiffened limbs refused their office.
"Your courage fails you," sneered Topcliffe, laying his hand upon hisshoulder.
"My strength does," replied Fawkes, sternly regarding him. "Help me upthe ladder, and you shall see whether I am afraid to die."
Seeing how matters stood, the executioner who stood by, leaning upon hischopper, tendered him his blood-stained hand. But Fawkes rejected itwith disgust, and exerting all his strength, forced himself up theladder.
As the hangman adjusted the rope, he observed a singular smile illuminethe features of his victim.
"You seem happy," he said.
"I _am_ so," replied Fawkes, earnestly,--"I see the form of her I lovedbeckoning me to unfading happiness."
With this, he stretched out his arms and sprang from the ladder. Beforehis frame was exposed to the executioner's knife, life was totallyextinct.