"It is buried at the north corner of the old wall at the head of
Bradshaw's grave. You shall have that and a thousandfold more if you'll
only pardon--"
"Enough!" broke in the dwarf, with the look and tone of an exultant
demon. "That is all we want! My lord duke, give me the death-warrant,
and while her majesty signs it, I will pronounce his doom!"
The duke handed him a roll of parchment, which he glanced critically
over, and handed to the queen for her autograph. That royal lady spread
the vellum on her knee, took the pen and affixed her signature as coolly
as if she were inditing a sonnet in an album. Then his highness, with a
face that fairly scintillated with demoniac delight, stood up and fixed
his eyes on the ghastly prisoner, and spoke in a voice that reverberated
like the tolling of a death-bell through the room.
"My Lord of Gloucester, you have been tried by a council of your
fellow-peers, presided over by her royal self, and found guilty of high
treason. Your sentence is that you be taken hence, immediately, to the
block, and there be beheaded, in punishment of your crime."
His highness wound up this somewhat solemn speech, rather
inconsistently, bursting out into one of his shrillest peals of
laughter; and the miserable Earl of Gloucester, with a gasping,
unearthly cry, fell back in the arms of the attendants. Dead and
oppressive silence reigned; and Sir Norman, who half believed all along
the whole thing was a farce, began to feel an uncomfortable sense of
chill creeping over him, and to think that, though practical jokes were
excellent things in their way, there was yet a possibility of carrying
them a little too far. The disagreeable silence was first broken by the
dwarf, who, after gloating for a moment over his victim's convulsive
spasms, sprang nimbly from his chair of dignity and held out his arm for
the queen. The queen arose, which seemed to be a sign for everybody else
to do the same, and all began forming themselves in a sort of line of
march.
"Whist is to be done with this other prisoner, your highness?" inquired
the duke, making a poke with his forefinger at Sir Norman. "Is he to
stay here, or is he to accompany us?"
His highness turned round, and putting his face close up to Sir Norman's
favored him with a malignant grin.
"You'd like to come, wouldn't you, my dear young friend?"
"Really," said Sir Norman, drawing back and returning the dwarf's stare
with compound interest, "that depends altogether on the nature of
the entertainment; but, at the same time, I'm much obliged to you for
consulting my inclinations."
This reply nearly overset his highness's gravity once more, but he
checked his mirth after the first irresistible squeal; and finding
the company were all arranged in the order of going, and awaiting his
sovereign pleasure, he turned.