The next was John Grant. This grave, melancholy man went smiling to his death. When he was entreated to seek for pardon for his crimes, his reply was, in a triumphant tone, "I am satisfied that our project was so far from being sinful, that I rely entirely upon my merits in bearing a part of that noble action, as an abundant satisfaction and expiation for all sins committed by me during the rest of my life!" He died thus with a lie in his right hand, and went to present the filthy rags of his own righteousness before His eyes in whose sight the heavens are not pure, and whose command is "Thou shalt do no murder." Last came poor Bates, who "seemed sorry for his offence," and said that only his love for his dead master had drawn him to forget his duty to God, his King and country. And "thus ended that day's business." In Old Palace Yard, "over against the Parliament House,"--namely, where now stands the statue of Godfrey de Bouillon--the second scaffold was erected on the following day. The four prisoners who were now to suffer were, the priests excepted, the most guilty of those left alive. They were drawn from the Tower on hurdles, as was usual. As they passed along the Strand, from an open window the beautiful Elizabeth Rookwood called to her husband-- "Ambrose, be of good courage! Thou art to suffer for a great and noble cause." Raising himself from the hurdle as well as he could, Rookwood answered, "My dear, pray for me." "I will, I will!" she cried. "And do you offer yourself with a good heart to God and your Creator. I yield you to Him, with as full an assurance that you will be accepted of Him as when He gave you to me." And so the procession passed on. The first to suffer of these was Thomas Winter. He was extremely pale, and seemed sorry for his offence "after a sort;" but he spoke little, merely protesting that he died "a true Catholic." Rookwood, who came next, made a long speech. He said that he asked forgiveness of God, whom he had offended in seeking to shed blood, of the King, and of the people. He prayed for the King and Royal Family, entreating that the King might become a "Catholic:" [Note 1] and he besought the King's goodness to his Elizabeth and her children. He was spared the worst, for he drew his last breath ere it began. The next to follow was Keyes. He had said on the trial that his fortunes being desperate, his fate was "as good now as another time, and for this cause rather than another." In this hardened, reckless spirit, he flung himself from the ladder, with such force as to break the halter. Last came "the great devil of all," Guy Fawkes, who, "being weak with torture and sickness, was scarce able to go up the ladder." He made no long speech, but "after a sort, seemed to be sorry" and asked forgiveness: and "with his crosses and his idle ceremonies" was cast-off, dying instantaneously. So ended the awful scenes which were the reward of the Gunpowder Plot.