He occupied the same cell in which he had been confined, and was never for a moment left alone; and at night, in addition to the warder sitting up with him, another officer was patrolling in the corridor outside the cell.
The books he was supplied with were a Bible, a Prayer-book, “Hymns Ancient and Modern,” a Scripture picture book, and “Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress.”
When the governor and the sheriff announced the day appointed for the final act of the law being carried out, he evinced no further emotion than a low moan, and then said he was quite prepared to meet the dreadful fate that awaited him, and which he knew was inevitable.
On Sunday night, the condemned man, after being visited by the chaplain, who was unremitting in his attendance on the culprit, was locked up at the usual hour, eight o’clock. He partook of supper, and afterwards had some beer.
He asked if he might be allowed to smoke, and being answered in the affirmative, he lighted his pipe, which he seemed to greatly enjoy.
At a little before nine o’clock, the night warder took charge of him.
After conversing for some little time Chudley retired to rest. He gave no trouble—so his attendant said.
After going to bed he sank into a peaceful slumber, from which he did not awake till past four on the Monday morning.
He opened his eyes and stared round the cell, and, upon his eyes meeting those of the warder, he said—
“What is the time now?”