half arising, "I am gone!"

But Dick had his hand at once upon his shoulder.

"Friend Lawless, sit ye still," he said. "An ye have eyes, look yonder
at the corner by the chancel arch; see ye not that, even upon the motion
of your rising, yon armed men are up and ready to intercept you? Yield
ye, friend. Ye were bold aboard ship, when ye thought to die a
sea-death; be bold again, now that y' are to die presently upon the
gallows."

"Master Dick," gasped Lawless, "the thing hath come upon me somewhat of
the suddenest. But give me a moment till I fetch my breath again; and,
by the mass, I will be as stout-hearted as yourself."

"Here is my bold fellow!" returned Dick. "And yet, Lawless, it goes hard
against the grain with me to die; but where whining mendeth nothing,
wherefore whine?"

"Nay, that indeed!" chimed Lawless. "And a fig for death, at worst! It
has to be done, my master, soon or late. And hanging in a good quarrel
is an easy death, they say, though I could never hear of any that came
back to say so."

And so saying, the stout old rascal leaned back in his stall, folded his
arms, and began to look about him with the greatest air of insolence and
unconcern.

"And for the matter of that," Dick added, "it is yet our best chance to
keep quiet. We wot not yet what Duckworth purposes; and when all is
said, and if the worst befall, we may yet clear our feet of it."

Now that they ceased talking, they were aware of a very distant and thin
strain of mirthful music which steadily drew nearer, louder, and merrier.
The bells in the tower began to break forth into a doubling peal, and a
greater and greater concourse of people to crowd into the church,
shuffling the snow from off their feet, and clapping and blowing in their
hands. The western door was flung wide open, showing a glimpse of
sunlit, snowy street, and admitting in a great gust the shrewd air of the
morning; and in short, it became plain by every sign that Lord Shoreby
desired to be married very early in the day, and that the wedding-train
was drawing near.

Some of Lord Shoreby's men now cleared a passage down the middle aisle,
forcing the people back with lance-stocks; and just then, outside the
portal, the secular musicians could be descried drawing near over the
frozen snow, the fifers and trumpeters scarlet in the face with lusty
blowing, the drummers and the cymbalists beating as for a wager.

These, as they drew near the door of the sa