Printed In Great Britain by R. Clay & Sons, Ltd., Bungay, Suffolk.
[p vii]
List of Illustrations
“Now That we have been properly introducedallow me to apologise” | [Frontispiece] | |
| Facing page | ||
“You see I am Familiar with the Routine....Good-morning, Gentlemen!” | [8] | |
“Au revoir, Sir! If you should happen to be inthe Market-place any Morning” | [28] | |
Endeavouring to convey the Tardy Prisoner to theScaffold | [32] | |
“Nay, pardon me, Sweet One, ’twas but a Jestof Mine” | [36] | |
But at this point a Hubbub arose at the Foot ofthe Scaffold | [42] | |
“Now, mark my Words, you Miserable LittleBladder-o’-Lard, see if I don’t take this outof your Skin presently” | [44] | |
An Invitation arrived, backed by an Escort of Half-a-dozenvery Tall Archers | [46] | |
[p ix]
The Headswoman
I
It was a bland, sunny morning of a mediæval May,—an old-style May of the most typical quality; and the Council of the little town of St. Radegonde were assembled, as was their wont at that hour, in the picturesque upper chamber of the Hôtel de Ville, for the dispatch of the usual municipal business. Though the date was early sixteenth century, [p 2] the members of this particular town-council possessed considerable resemblance to those of similar assemblies in the seventeenth, eighteenth, and even the nineteenth centuries, in a general absence of any characteristic at all—unless a pervading hopeless insignificance can be considered as such. All the character in the room, indeed, seemed to be concentrated in the girl who stood before the table, erect, yet at her ease, facing the members in general and Mr. Mayor in particular; a delicate-handed, handsome girl of some eighteen summers, whose tall, supple figure was well set off by the quiet, though tasteful mourning in which she was clad.
“Well, gentlemen,” the Mayor was saying, “this little business appears to be—er—quite in order, and it only remains for me to—er—review the facts. You are aware that the town has lately had the [p 3] misfortune to lose its executioner,—a gentleman who, I may say, performed the duties of his office with neatness and dispatch, and gave the fullest satisfaction to all with whom he—er—came in contact. But the Council has already, in a vote of condolence, expressed its sense of the—er—striking qualities of the deceased. You are doubtless also aware that the office is hereditary, being secured to a particular family in this town, so long as any one of its members is ready and willing to take it up. The deed lies before me, and appears to be—er—quite in order. It is true that on this occasion the Council might have been called upon to consider and examine the title of the claimant, the late lamented official having only left a daughter,—she who now stands before you; but I am happy to say that Jeanne—the young lady in question—with what I am bound to call great good-feeling [p 4] on her part, has saved us all trouble in that respect, by formally applying for the family post, with all its—er—duties, privileges, and emoluments; and her application appears to be—er—quite in order. There is, therefore, under the circumstances, nothing left for us to do but to declare the said applicant duly elected. I would wish, however, before I—er—sit down, to make it quite clear to the—er—fair petitioner, that if a laudable desire to save the Council trouble in the matter has led her to a—er—hasty conclusion, it is quite open to her to reconsider her position. Should she determine not to press her claim, the succession to the post would then apparently devolve upon her cousin Enguerrand, well known to you all as a practising advocate in the courts of this town. Though the youth has not, I admit, up to now proved a conspicuous success in the profession he [p 5] has chosen, still there is no reason why a bad lawyer should not make an excellent executioner; and in view of the close friendship—may I even say attachment?—existing between the cousins, it is possible that this young lady may, in due course, practically enjoy the solid emoluments of the position without the necessity of discharging its (to some girls) uncongenial duties. And so, though not the rose herself, she would still be—er—near the rose!” And the Mayor resumed his seat, chuckling over his little pleasantry, which the keener wits of the Council proceeded to explain at length to the more obtuse.