"Nevertheless," replied Beauchamp, "leave no means untried, while there is even the most remote hope."
The surgeon shook his head, but still made some more efforts; and the turnkey, returning almost immediately from the condemned cell reported that the prisoner could only be brought to say, that the earl had fallen into a violent passion, and that he himself desired not to be farther troubled upon the subject.
After a pause of a few minutes more, the principal surgeon again addressed Beauchamp saying, "As I imagine, sir, from your manner that you are a near relation of the earl, I feel my duty to tell you positively that he is no more and that to continue all these efforts in your presence, would be but to harrow up your feelings for no purpose. All men must die, and the nobleman will never have to endure that pang again."
Beauchamp bowed his head, and crossing his arms upon his bosom, remained for a few moments in silence. Then begging that one of the younger surgeons would remain with the body all night, and that the elder person who had addressed him would accompany him to the inn, he added a few words of course to the governor of the prison, and departed from the chamber of the dead.
CHAPTER XL.
We generally, through life, write the actions of each of our friends and acquaintances on the two sides of one leaf in the book of memory, the good upon one side, and the bad upon the other, so that it is scarcely possible to see both at once. With an amiable weakness, however man most frequently suffers the death of any one he has known to turn the leaf forever, and reads the character of him that is no more as if the good were alone recorded. Beauchamp's heart would not suffer him to do otherwise; and, after he had spoken with the surgeon in regard to several points of all the sad ceremonies that were to follow, he sat down in solitude, giving way to feelings that were far more bitter than he had anticipated. Even had he not felt his uncle's loss deeply, on the ground of personal regard, there was in his bosom another motive for regret which would have pained him much.
He asked himself whether the angry discussion which had taken place between himself and the earl, so shortly before the decease of the latter, might not have hastened that catastrophe; and although he was obliged to acknowledge that, were the same circumstances to come over again, he could not, and would not act otherwise than he had done, yet he was deeply grieved that the disagreement should have taken place so immediately previous to the death of his uncle, and that they had parted from each other forever in anger and ill-will.
We shall pass over Beauchamp's grief, however, merely saying that he grieved sincerely. Nor shall we dwell upon the details of the funeral of the Earl of Ashborough--nor treat the reader to the full, true, and particular account of the execution of three criminals, against whom we have seen that a jury of their countrymen pronounced a just verdict, and to whom a judge had awarded a righteous punishment. Suffice it, that they died!
In regard to Harding alone, a few words must be said. To all appearance, he met his fate with the same determined coolness which he had shown through life; rendered, perhaps, a degree more stern and intense from the awful situation in which he was placed. One circumstance, and one circumstance alone, seemed to show that the drop of better feeling which almost every man has at the bottom of his heart was not entirely polluted by the poisonous streams that flowed around it. On the night before his execution, after having obdurately rejected those religious consolations which were offered with persevering piety by several zealous clergymen, he suddenly desired to speak with two magistrates; and then, in their presence, made a full and clear confession of all the particulars connected with the murder at Ryebury, confirming in every point the testimony of Walter Harrison. This he signed in the presence of the magistrates, and caused them to affix their names as witnesses; which being done be added, "I have made this confession, gentlemen, because the act for which I am to die has been attributed to a young gentleman who had nothing to do with it; and because--that gentleman, being well calculated to do service to himself and his country, if every shade of imputation be removed from his character--I think the general considerations of utility require--or rather," he said, breaking off abruptly the tirade in which he was about to indulge--"or rather, I do it because I have learned what mental as well as bodily suffering is, and therefore would spare it to another where there is no occasion for its infliction. So now, gentlemen, I have done with this world forever, and I wish you good night."
In the various accounts of the execution, which every one must have seen in the newspapers, a number of contradictory statements appeared; some journals affirming that Harding had died, maintaining his innocence to the last; some, with more truth, that he had made a full confession. His statement, however, was immediately sent up to London, properly authenticated, together with the case of Walter Harrison, and both were laid before the Home Secretary, for the consideration of his majesty.--The necessary measures for issuing a free pardon to the young sailor were immediately taken; and when it was presented for signature, the great personage paused for a moment, to ask some questions in regard to Captain Delaware, expressing considerable indignation that so grave a charge should have been brought against a distinguished officer on such light grounds. "Had that officer not run off," he said--"a point of which it may be as well to take no notice--had he not run off, it might have been necessary to make him some compensation. But that was a great error--that was a great error, to flinch from trial--a brave man, too--a very brave man!"