e who has done his duty, just as the warders have done theirs; and
just as they are paid to lock the door upon me and bring me food at
stated intervals, so you've been paid to utter your shibboleths and to
say your prayers. But perhaps you've meant all right. Still, nothing
that you can say would help me. I have no confession to make to you,
not a word, except that I adhere to what I said in the courts: I am
absolutely innocent of this murder. There's no crime on my soul!"

"But are you ready to meet your God?" said the chaplain.

"Pardon me," said Paul, and his voice quivered with emotion, "but
that's a subject too sacred to talk about. Hark! what's that?"

There was a sound of hammering outside.

"Does it mean--that?"

Again the chaplain nodded. "Think, my brother----"

"No, no," said Paul. "If I am soon to meet God face to face, as you
say, well then--no, I'm neither ashamed nor afraid; that is, as you're
regarding it. I am ashamed--but, there, you could not understand.
Please leave me, will you?"

Again there was a dull sound of the impact of the head of a hammer upon
the head of a nail outside.

Silence reigned over Brunford, and for a wonder the night was clear.
Overhead unnumbered stars shone brightly. The wind came from the sea,
and more than one declared that they felt the salt upon their lips. In
spite of this, however, gloom rested upon the town. It had gone forth,
that, on the following morning Paul Stepaside was to be hanged, and
hundreds, as they trod the granite pavements of the streets, seemed to
be trying to walk noiselessly. At almost every corner groups of men
were to be seen evidently discussing the news they had heard.

"He was a rare fine lad, after all, ay, he wur. I canna think, in
spite of everything, as 'ow he did it. He wur noan that sort."

"Ay, but the judge and jury, after hearing all th' evidence, and after
hearing one of the grandest speeches ever made in Manchester, found him
guilty. Ay, and it wur a grand speech, too; I heerd every word on it,
and I shall never forgeet it to my dying day. When he finished I said,
'He's saved hissen!' I thowt as no judge and jury in the warld would
ever condemn a man after that. It seemed to me as though he had
knocked Bakewell's legs from right under him, and I nearly shouted out
loud."

"Ah, but he could not get over th' judge; nay, the judge seemed to have
made up his mind, and his summing up were just terrible. Mark y