“It is an emblem of hope,” said he, recovering himself.
There is no more delusive phantom than hope; and it seems to be the happy privilege of all to cull whatever pleasures can be gathered from its indulgence. What we think ought to be, we are fond to think will be.
Thus it was with our hero—he hoped that something might happen before the appointed hour for his execution to extricate him from his terrible dilemma.
Time, however, passed away. As the hours flew swiftly by, every blow of the clock’s brass hammer sounded like a death-knell upon the heart of the prisoner. Shortly there was heard a great noise without—the creaking of timbers, and the sound of the hammer and saw.
Edgar grew pale and approached the window. There it was—that horrid machine of human vengeance—the gibbet, glaring before his eyes, like an evil conscience harassing the soul of a dying man.
The cold sweat burst from his burning brow. He had felt before that it was hard for one so young as he to die a death of infamy; but to spend his last moments alone and unpitied; to know that all near him thought his fate merited; that in a few hours he was to be conducted from the gloom of his cell to the gallows, there to meet the gaze of a curious multitude, as if he were a beast led to slaughter; and then to take his departure of life, amidst the jeers and scoffs of his fellow-creatures—this, indeed, was death—terrible death.
A short time previous to the execution, Edgar was aroused by hearing a slight tap on his cell door, and the next instant a man was ushered into the apartment.
The stranger was a minister. His face was one of awful gravity.
In stature he was above the size of ordinary men, though his excessive leanness might contribute in deceiving as to his hight; his countenance was sharp and unbending, and every muscle seemed set in the most rigid compression; his eyes were concealed beneath a pair of enormous green spectacles, which gave these organs a very singular look.
His coat was black, and his breeches and stockings were of the same hue, his shoes were without luster, and half concealed beneath their huge, plated buckles.