"Four devils!" cried the hangman. "Don"t you know they"re left fordeath on Thursday? Don"t you respect the law--the constitootion-nothing?
Let the four men be."
"Is this a time for joking?" cried Hugh. "Do you hear "em? Pullaway these bars that have got fixed between the door and theground; and let us in."
"Brother," said the hangman, in a low voice, as he stooped underpretence of doing what Hugh desired, but only looked up in hisface, "can"t you leave these here four men to me, if I"ve the whim!
You do what you like, and have what you like of everything for yourshare,--give me my share. I want these four men left alone, I tellyou!"
"Pull the bars down, or stand out of the way," was Hugh"s reply.
"You can turn the crowd if you like, you know that well enough,brother," said the hangman, slowly. "What! You WILL come in, willyou?"
"Yes."
"You won"t let these men alone, and leave "em to me? You"ve norespect for nothing--haven"t you?" said the hangman, retreating tothe door by which he had entered, and regarding his companion witha scowl. "You WILL come in, will you, brother!"
"I tell you, yes. What the devil ails you? Where are you going?"
"No matter where I"m going," rejoined the hangman, looking in againat the iron wicket, which he had nearly shut upon himself, andheld ajar. "Remember where you"re coming. That"s all!"
With that, he shook his likeness at Hugh, and giving him a grin,compared with which his usual smile was amiable, disappeared, andshut the door.
Hugh paused no longer, but goaded alike by the cries of the convicts, and by the impatience of the crowd, warned the manimmediately behind him--the way was only wide enough for oneabreast--to stand back, and wielded a sledge-hammer with suchstrength, that after a few blows the iron bent and broke, and gavethem free admittance.
It the two sons of one of these men, of whom mention has been made,were furious in their zeal before, they had now the wrath andvigour of lions. Calling to the man within each cell, to keep asfar back as he could, lest the axes crashing through the doorshould wound him, a party went to work upon each one, to beat it inby sheer strength, and force the bolts and staples from their hold.
But although these two lads had the weakest party, and the worstarmed, and did not begin until after the others, having stopped towhisper to him through the grate, that door was the first open, andthat man was the first out. As they dragged him into the galleryto knock off his irons, he fell down among them, a mere heap ofchains, and was carried out in that state on men"s shoulders, withno sign of life.
The release of these four wretched creatures, and conveying them,astounded and bewildered, into the streets so full of life--aspectacle they had never thought to see again, until they emerged from solitude and silence upon that last journey, when the airshould be heavy with the pent-up breath of thousands, and thestreets and houses should be built and roofed with human faces, notwith bricks and tiles and stones--was the crowning horror of thescene. Their pale and haggard looks and hollow eyes; theirstaggering feet, and hands stretched out as if to save themselvesfrom falling; their wandering and uncertain air; the way theyheaved and gasped for breath, as though in water, when they werefirst plunged into the crowd; all marked them for the men. No needto say "this one was doomed to die;" for there were the wordsbroadly stamped and branded on his face. The crowd fell off, as ifthey had been laid out for burial, and had risen in their shrouds;and many were seen to shudder, as though they had been actuallydead men, when they chanced to touch or brush against theirgarments.
At the bidding of the mob, the houses were all illuminated thatnight--lighted up from top to bottom as at a time of public gaietyand joy. Many years afterwards, old people who lived in theiryouth near this part of the city, remembered being in a great glareof light, within doors and without, and as they looked, timid andfrightened children, from the windows, seeing a FACE go by. Thoughthe whole great crowd and all its other terrors had faded from their recollection, this one object remained; alone, distinct, andwell remembered. Even in the unpractised minds of infants, one ofthese doomed men darting past, and but an instant seen, was animage of force enough to dim the whole concourse; to find itself anall-absorbing place, and hold it ever after.
When this last task had been achieved, the shouts and cries grewfainter; the clank of fetters, which had resounded on all sides asthe prisoners escaped, was heard no more; all the noises of thecrowd subsided into a hoarse and sullen murmur as it passed intothe distance; and when the human tide had rolled away, a melancholyheap of smoking ruins marked the spot where it had lately chafedand roared.
