'And now for the other,' said the little officer, turning away from the window and wiping the tears of laughter from his face. 'That beam over yonder would serve our purpose. Where is Hangman Broderick, the Jack Ketch of the Royals?'
'Here I am, sir,' responded a sullen, heavy-faced trooper, shuffling forward; 'I have a rope here with a noose.'
'Throw it over the beam, then. What is amiss with your hand, you clumsy rogue, that you should wear linen round it?'
'May it please you, sir,' the man answered, 'it was all through an ungrateful, prick-eared Presbyterian knave whom I hung at Gommatch. I had done all that could be done for him. Had he been at Tyburn he could scarce have met with more attention. Yet when I did put my hand to his neck to see that all was as it should be, he did fix me with his teeth, and hath gnawed a great piece from my thumb.'
'I am sorry for you,' said the officer. 'You know, no doubt, that the human bite under such circumstances is as deadly as that of the mad dog, so that you may find yourself snapping and barking one of these fine mornings. Nay, turn not pale! I have heard you preach patience and courage to your victims. You are not afraid of death?'
'Not of any Christian death, your Honour. Yet, ten shillings a week is scarce enough to pay a man for an end like that!'
'Nay, it is all a lottery,' remarked the Captain cheerily. 'I have heard that in these cases a man is so drawn up that his heels do beat a tattoo against the back of his head. But, mayhap, it is not as painful as it would appear. Meanwhile, do you proceed to do your office.'
Three or four troopers caught me by the arms, but I shook them off as best I might, and walked with, as I trust, a steady step and a cheerful face under the beam, which was a great smoke-blackened rafter passing from one side of the chamber to the other. The rope was thrown over this, and the noose placed round my neck with trembling fingers by the hangman, who took particular care to keep beyond the range of my teeth. Half-a-dozen dragoons seized the further end of the coil, and stood ready to swing me into eternity. Through all my adventurous life I have never been so close upon the threshold of death as at that moment, and yet I declare to you that, terrible as my position was, I could think of nothing but the tattoo marks upon old Solomon Sprent's arm, and the cunning fashion in which he had interwoven the red and the blue. Yet I was keenly alive to all that was going on around me. The scene of the bleak stone-floored room, the single narrow window, the two lounging elegant officers, the pile of arms in the corner, and even the texture of the coarse red serge and the patterns of the great brass buttons upon the sleeve of the man who held me, are all stamped clearly upon my mind.
'We must do our work with order,' remarked the taller Captain, taking a note-book from his pocket. 'Colonel Sarsfield may desire some details. Let me see! This is the seventeenth, is it not?'
'Four at the farm and five at the cross-roads,' the other answered, counting upon his fingers. 'Then there was the one whom we shot in the hedge, and the wounded one who nearly saved himself by dying, and the two in the grove under the hill. I can remember no more, save those who were strung up in 'Bridgewater immediately after the action.'
'It is well to do it in an orderly fashion,' quoth the other, scribbling in his book. 'It is very well for Kirke and his men, who are half Moors themselves, to hang and to slaughter without discrimination or ceremony, but we should set them a better example. What is your name, sirrah?'
'My name is Captain Micah Clarke,' I answered.
The two officers looked at each other, and the smaller one gave a long whistle. 'It is the very man!' said he. 'This comes of asking questions! Rat me, if I had not misgivings that it might prove to be so. They said that he was large of limb.'
'Tell me, sirrah, have you ever known one Major Ogilvy of the Horse Guards Blue?' asked the Captain.