The wretch sank upon his knees in a state of such utter collapse and terror that, crouching upon the pavement, he could only extend his hands and mutter in an almost inaudible voice:
"Oh, mercy! Not death!"
"You fear death! Wait, I shall bandage your eyes," said the ragpicker.
And letting down his sack from his shoulders, father Bribri took a large piece of cloth out of it and threw it over the condemned man who, on his knees and gathered into a lump, was almost wholly covered therewith. Soon as that was done, the ragpicker stepped quickly back.
Three shots were fired at once.
Popular justice was done.
A few minutes later, fastened under his arms to the lamp-post, the corpse of the bandit swung to the night breeze with the poster attached to his clothes:
CHAPTER X.
ON THE BARRICADE.
Shortly after the execution of the thief day began to dawn.