The Constable of the Tower

While Edward gazed at the executioner with feelings of mingled horror and loathing, he bethought him of the Lady Jane Grey’s description of the hideous caitiff, and recognized its justice. At the same time, Sir John Gage sharply rebuked the porter for allowing his Majesty to be offended by such a sight.

“Nay, the fault was mine own, good Sir John,” interposed Edward; “the man tried to hinder me, but I would come in. Is it sooth that the two hapless princes were buried here?”

“Here where I stand, sire,” replied Mauger, striking the floor with his heel. “Their tender bodies were laid i’ the earth beneath this stone.”

“Hold thy peace, fellow, unless his Grace addresses thee,” cried the constable, angrily.

“Nay, I meant no offence,” growled the headsman; “his Majesty’s royal father was wont to talk to me, and I thought I might do the same with King Harry’s royal offspring. I once gave his late Majesty a proof of my power which greatly amazed him, and I will do as much for his present Highness if it shall please him to command me.”

“Again I bid thee hold thy peace,” said the constable, sternly. “Hath your Grace seen enough of this dismal chamber?”

“Ay; but, before quitting it, I would fain know what proof of power the varlet proposed to display to me,” rejoined Edward, whose curiosity was awakened.

“Some juggling trick, most likely, your Highness,” said Gage.

“Not so, Sir John,” rejoined Mauger. “I am no soothsayer, but long practice hath given me a certain skill, and I an tell by a man’s looks if he be to die by my hand.”

Edward looked surprised, and glanced at the constable, who shook his head sceptically.

“Will it please your Majesty to put me to the test?” demanded Mauger. “But I must be permitted to speak freely and without respect to persons, else I dare not do it.”

“Are there any here willing to submit to the ordeal?” inquired Edward, turning to his attendants, all of whom had entered the chamber.

Several voices replied in the affirmative.

“I am to be free from all consequences if I proclaim the truth?” pursued Mauger.

“Thou hast my royal word for it,” replied Edward.

“Then let any one who will advance, place his foot upon the block, and look at me steadily,” rejoined Mauger.

“I will go first, having neither fear nor faith,” said the constable. And he did as Mauger had directed.

After looking fixedly at him for a moment, the executioner observed with a grim smile, “Your head will never be mine, Sir John.”

“I never deemed it would, thou fell hound,” replied the constable, turning away.

“I will make the next essay,” said Sir Thomas Seymour, stepping lightly forward, and placing his foot gracefully upon the block.

The headsman fixed his eyes upon him keenly for a moment, and then struck the flag with his axe.

A hollow and ominous sound was returned by the stone, as if the repose of the dead had been disturbed.

“That signifies that thou art to handle me on the scaffold, thou vile caitiff—ha?” cried Seymour with a contemptuous laugh. “My nerves are unshaken. Does your Highness hesitate?” he added to the lord protector.

“Not I, forsooth,” rejoined Hertford, taking his place. “I have no more misgiving than yourself.”

“Desist, I pray your Highness. I like it not,” cried Edward.

“Nay, I must needs disobey your Grace, or my brother will say I am afraid,” returned Hertford.

“That shall I, and think so too,” cried Seymour.

“I pray your Highness look me straight in the face,” said Mauger.

And as the lord protector complied, he again struck the stone with his axe, occasioning the same hollow resonance as before.

“Soh! your Highness is likewise doomed!” exclaimed Sir Thomas Seymour, with a laugh.

“It would appear so,” rejoined Hertford, with a forced smile.

“Let us see what my destiny will be,” said Lord Lisle, advancing.

And, setting his foot on the block, he gazed with exceeding sternness at the headsman, hoping to terrify him. Mauger, however, did not quail before the look, but, after a brief scrutiny of the other’s countenance, again smote the stone with his fatal axe.

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