on the
inner platform until Larkin and the rest of the attendant warders and
officials came up. Then, all being ready, the door was flung open,
and the boy-martyr was first led out upon the drop. His face, which
was deathly pale, appeared working with the effects of strong mental
agony. The high priest of English rule over Irishmen, Calcraft, came
forward, placed the treacherous noose around Allen's neck, pulled a
thin white cap over his ashen face, and then stooped, and securely
tied his feet together. The pinioning of the arms, which had been done
in the cell, allowed his hands, from the elbows downward, sufficient
freedom to clasp on his breast a crucifix, which ever and anon, as he
spoke aloud the responses of the litany, the poor young fellow seemed
to press closer and closer to his heart.

Next O'Brien was led forth. On his fine manly face the closest
scrutiny could not detect a trace of weakness. He looked calmly
and sadly around; then, stepping up to where Allen stood capped and
pinioned, he clasped him by the hand, and kissed him affectionately on
the cheek, speaking to him a word or two not overheard. Then O'Brien
himself was placed by Calcraft on the drop, the rope was fixed upon
his neck, the cap was drawn on his face, and his feet were securely
bound.

Larkin was now brought out, and led directly to his place on the
left hand of O'Brien, who was in the middle. The sight of his two
brother-martyrs capped and pinioned, and with the fatal cord around
each neck, seemed to unman the poor fellow utterly. He stumbled on
touching an uneven plank on the scaffold, so that many thought he had
fainted; but it was not so, though he unquestionably was labouring
under intense agony of mind. O'Brien, firm and unshrinking to the
last, turned and looked at him encouragingly, and to him also spoke
a few words in a low tone.

Calcraft now disappeared from view, and the three men stood for a
moment before the multitude, their voices ringing out clearly in the
still morning air, "Lord Jesus, have mercy on us." Suddenly the click
of the bolts was heard; the three bodies sunk through the traps;
England's three halters strained, and tugged, and twitched
convulsively for a few moments, and the deed was done--her vengeance
was accomplished.

That afternoon, her functionaries bore to three grave-pits in the
prison-yard three lumps of lifeless clay, that a few short hours
before had been three of God's noblest creatures. Like ca