at a respectful
distance behind, Nicholas broke out again in one sentence.

"They have done it," he said, "he is dead. Mother of God!"

His whip twitched in his clenching hand. He turned and jerked his head
beckoningly to the man who followed; and the four went on together,
through the hall and into Sir James's parlour. Sir James shut the door.

"Tell us, Nick."

Nicholas stood at the hearth, glaring and shifting.

"This fellow knows--he saw it; tell them, Dick."

The man gave his account. He was one of the servants of Sir Nicholas'
younger brother, who lived in town, and had been sent down to Great
Keynes immediately after the execution that had taken place that
morning. He was a man of tolerable education, and told his story well.

Sir James sat as he listened, with his hand shading his eyes; Nicholas
was fidgetting at the hearth, interrupting the servant now and again
with questions and reminders; and Chris leaned in the dark corner by the
window. There floated vividly before his mind as he listened the setting
of the scene that he had looked upon a few days ago, though there were
new actors in it now.

"It was this morning, sir, on Tower Hill. There was a great company
there long before the time. He came out bravely enough, walking with
the Lieutenant that was his friend, and with a red cross in his hand."

"You were close by," put in Nicholas

"Yes, sir; I was beside the stairs. They shook as he went up; they were
crazy steps, and he told the Lieutenant to have a care to him."

"The words, man, the words!"

"I am not sure, sir; but they were after this fashion: 'See me safe up,
Master Lieutenant; I will shift for myself at the coming down.' So he
got up safe, and stamped once or twice merrily to see if all were firm.
Then he made a speech, sir, and begged all there to pray for him. He
told them that he was to die for the faith of the Catholic Church, as my
Lord of Rochester did."

"Have you heard of my lord's head being taken to Nan Boleyn?" put in
Nicholas fiercely.

Sir James looked up.

"Presently, Nick," he said.

The man went on.

"Master More kneeled down presently at his prayers; and all the folk
kept very quiet. There was not one that cried against him. Then he stood
up again, put off his gown, so that his neck was bare; and passed his
hand over it smiling. Then he told the headsman that it was but a short
one, and bade him be brave and strike straight, lest his good name
should suffer