CHAPTER VI.
THE FATAL DAY.
Next morning all those condemned to die breakfasted together in a large room on the ground floor of the prison. Their fetters had been previously removed.
There was no bravado, no undue levity in their manner or discourse, but they looked surprisingly cheerful, in spite of the near approach of death under the most dreadful form.
All had passed the greater part of the night in prayer. And as they hoped they had settled their account on high, there was nothing to disturb their serenity.
"Our time draws very near," observed Syddall to Captain Dawson, who sat next him. "But for my part I feel as hearty as ever I did in my life. Indeed, I think we all look remarkably well considering our position."
"Death does not terrify me in the least," said Jemmy. "Its bitterness is past with me. May Heaven have mercy on us all!"
"We die in a good cause," observed Captain Deacon. "I heartily forgive all my enemies—even the chief of them, the Elector of Hanover and the Duke of Cumberland. It has been falsely said that I was induced by my revered father to take up arms for the prince. The assertion I shall contradict in the manifesto I have prepared. For the rest I care not what my enemies say of me."
"The Duke of Cumberland has not kept faith with us," exclaimed Captain Fletcher. "When we surrendered at Carlisle, he declared that the garrison should not be put to the sword, but reserved for his father's pleasure—the Elector's pleasure being that we should be hung, drawn, and quartered. Gracious Heaven! deliver all Englishmen from this Hanoverian clemency!"
"My sole regret is that we ever surrendered," cried Colonel Townley. "Would we all had died sword in hand! However, since we are brought to this pass, we must meet our fate like brave men. As we have been allowed wine with our last repast, let us drink to King James the Third!"
Every glass was raised in response, after which they all rose from the table.