Could it be possible they were really going to murder the unhappy
wretch? and could all those beautiful ladies--could that surpassingly
beautiful queen, stand there serenely unmoved, to witness such a crime?
While he yet looked round in horror, the doomed man, already apparently
almost dead with fear, was dragged forward by his guards. Paralyzed
as he was, at sight of the stage which he knew to be the scaffold, he
uttered shriek after shriek of frenzied despair, and struggled like
a madman to get free. But as well might Laocoon have struggled in the
folds of the serpent; they pulled him on, bound him hand and foot, and
held his head forcibly down on the block.
The black spectre moved--the dwarf made a signal--the glittering axe was
raised--fell--a scream was cut in two--a bright jet of blood spouted up
in the soldiers faces, blinding them; the axe fell again, and the Earl
of Gloucester was minus that useful and ornamental appendage, a head.
It was all over so quickly, that Sir Norman could scarcely believe his
horrified senses, until the deed was done. The executioner threw a black
cloth over the bleeding trunk, and held up the grizzly head by the hair;
and Sir Norman could have sworn the features moved, and the dead eyes
rolled round the room.
"Behold!" cried the executioner, striking the convulsed face with the
palm of his open hand, "the fate of all traitors!"
"And of all spies!" exclaimed the dwarf, glaring with his fiendish
eyes upon the appalled Sir Norman. "Keep your axe sharp and bright, Mr.
Executioner, for before morning dawns there is another gentleman here to
be made shorter by a head."