"It is buried at the north corner of the old wall at the head of

Bradshaw's grave. You shall have that and a thousandfold more if you'll

only pardon--"

"Enough!" broke in the dwarf, with the look and tone of an exultant

demon. "That is all we want! My lord duke, give me the death-warrant,

and while her majesty signs it, I will pronounce his doom!"

The duke handed him a roll of parchment, which he glanced critically

over, and handed to the queen for her autograph. That royal lady spread

the vellum on her knee, took the pen and affixed her signature as coolly

as if she were inditing a sonnet in an album. Then his highness, with a

face that fairly scintillated with demoniac delight, stood up and fixed

his eyes on the ghastly prisoner, and spoke in a voice that reverberated

like the tolling of a death-bell through the room.

"My Lord of Gloucester, you have been tried by a council of your

fellow-peers, presided over by her royal self, and found guilty of high

treason. Your sentence is that you be taken hence, immediately, to the

block, and there be beheaded, in punishment of your crime."

His highness wound up this somewhat solemn speech, rather

inconsistently, bursting out into one of his shrillest peals of

laughter; and the miserable Earl of Gloucester, with a gasping,

unearthly cry, fell back in the arms of the attendants. Dead and

oppressive silence reigned; and Sir Norman, who half believed all along

the whole thing was a farce, began to feel an uncomfortable sense of

chill creeping over him, and to think that, though practical jokes were

excellent things in their way, there was yet a possibility of carrying

them a little too far. The disagreeable silence was first broken by the

dwarf, who, after gloating for a moment over his victim's convulsive

spasms, sprang nimbly from his chair of dignity and held out his arm for

the queen. The queen arose, which seemed to be a sign for everybody else

to do the same, and all began forming themselves in a sort of line of

march.

"Whist is to be done with this other prisoner, your highness?" inquired

the duke, making a poke with his forefinger at Sir Norman. "Is he to

stay here, or is he to accompany us?"

His highness turned round, and putting his face close up to Sir Norman's

favored him with a malignant grin.

"You'd like to come, wouldn't you, my dear young friend?"

"Really," said Sir Norman, drawing back and returning the dwarf's stare

with compound interest, "that depends altogether on the nature of

the entertainment; but, at the same time, I'm much obliged to you for

consulting my inclinations."

This reply nearly overset his highness's gravity once more, but he

checked his mirth after the first irresistible squeal; and finding

the company were all arranged in the order of going, and awaiting his

sovereign pleasure, he turned.




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