"'Tis better thus!" exclaimed Urso, in a voice that betrayed profound emotion. "The parting with her would be a greater pang than death itself. Bid her an eternal farewell from me, and say to her----" And he stopped. "What must I add, my son?" inquired the minister. "Say that I have left her a good legacy," rejoined Urso. "Know you not that any money you may have bequeathed her will be forfeited?" remarked Vosper. "Forfeited to whom?" demanded the prisoner. "To whom should it be forfeited except to the king?" rejoined Vosper. "I am easy on that score," said Urso. "Charles Stuart will not keep this money from her. The provision I have made is secure. Tell her so," he added to the minister. "She may not understand my meaning now, but she will understand it hereafter." "Your words shall be faithfully repeated," said the Reverend Laban. "Farewell, my son!" And with an earnest look at the prisoner, he departed. When the hour fixed for the execution approached, a strong mounted guard was drawn up in front of the beautiful old gateway. Without a moment's delay, the prisoner was brought forth by Lieutenant Vosper, Corporal Trubshaw, and a party of halberdiers, who marched on either side of him. Urso was bareheaded, his hands tied behind him, and a rope coiled round his neck. Before him walked the hangman--a caitiff apparently chosen for the revolting office from his savage and repulsive looks. The mounted guard, previously mentioned, rode on in front to clear the way. As the cortége passed slowly down Edgar-street and along Sidbury-street, Urso's appearance was everywhere greeted with yells and execrations, and if the infuriated concourse could have reached him, the hangman would have been spared a labour. Ever since it had become known that the night attack had been betrayed, the greatest indignation was manifested by the citizens, who demanded that the severest punishment should be inflicted on the traitor. Mere hanging was too good for him. They would have him drawn and quartered, and his head fixed on the Sidbury-gate, that Old Noll might see it. Though Urso had nerved himself to the utmost, he was not equal to the terrible ordeal he was exposed to, and his agony during the march to the place of execution was far greater than that which he subsequently endured. At length the Sidbury-gate was reached, and being taken inside the structure, he was for some minutes lost to sight. The spectators awaited his reappearance with a fierce impatience, which they did not seek to control or disguise. The large area in front of the Sidbury-gate, which has been described as surrounded by the new fortifications, was crowded with soldiers; the ramparts of Fort Royal, the walls, the towers, were likewise thronged by soldiers. But there were hundreds, nay, thousands, of distant spectators of the tragic scene.