The prisoners were now drawn up in a line, and there kept until they had witnessed, what was immediately exhibited, the fatal preparations for execution; which consisted simply in fastening a rope, with a running noose, to one of the lower branches, and placing a cart underneath it, with a person standing in readiness by the horse's head to drive off at a given signal.
When these very primitive preliminaries were gone through, all the prisoners, including Sir John Faa, with the exception of one who was left for instant execution, were marched into the castle, and shut up with a strong guard in one of its apartments.
Everything being now ready for the performance of the dreadful tragedy which was about to be enacted, the Earl of Cassilis proceeded to the countess's chamber, and again assuming the mock air of politeness of which we have already spoken, he bowed low as he entered the apartment, and begged to inform the Countess of Cassilis that he had got up a play for her divertisement, in which her lover, Sir John, had obligingly undertaken to perform a principal part, and desired that she would condescend to witness the pastime. Saying this, he rudely seized the countess by the arm, and dragged her to an apartment where there was a window that overlooked the place of execution.
Having placed the countess at this window, the earl made a signal to those assembled beneath the "Dule Tree," and in an instant afterwards the first of the unhappy captives was seen suspended by the neck, struggling in the agonies of death. Another and another of these miserable men followed in due time, until of the whole party their unfortunate leader, Sir John, only remained.
On this ill-fated gentleman being brought out for execution, the earl roused the attention of his unhappy wife, by calling out to her, with savage glee, to look attentively, as her lover Sir John was now about to play his part; and he had no doubt, he said, that he would do it handsomely. The wretched lady glanced towards the fatal tree, and saw him who had been her first, and was yet her only, love about to suffer an ignominious death. The fatal rope was already about the neck of the gallant, but erring young man, whose bearing, in this dreadful situation, evinced all that unflinching fortitude for which he had always been remarkable.
Just before being thrown off, he caught a glimpse of the countess's figure at the window. He bowed gracefully towards her, kissed his hand to her, and waved an eternal adieu. In the next instant he was insensible to all earthly objects. These last proofs of the undaunted young man's unalterable affection, however, of which we have just spoken, were not seen by her for whom they were intended; for, although at the window (she was forcibly held there by her savage husband), her eyes were closed on the dreadful scene, and she herself wholly unconscious of what at that fatal instant was passing before her.
The apartment from which the miserable Countess of Cassilis was compelled to witness this dreadful tragedy is still pointed out by the name of the "Countess's Room." In this chamber the unhappy lady was kept a prisoner for several days after the execution of Sir John and his followers, when she was removed to another of the family residences in the town of Maybole, in Ayrshire, where she was confined during the remainder of her life—the earl her husband, in the meantime, marrying another wife.
Such is the story of the Countess of Cassilis and a veritable tale it is.