Some little time was allowed the prisoners for preparation, and such of them as had papers and manifestoes delivered them to the sheriffs, by whom they were handed to the tipstaves to be distributed among the crowd. At this juncture a fair pale face was seen at the window of the foremost mourning coach, and a hand was waved to one of the prisoners, who returned the farewell salute. This was the lovers' last adieu. The dreadful business then began. Colonel Townley was first called upon to mount the ladder. His arms were bound by the executioner, but he was not blindfolded. His deportment was firm--his countenance being lighted up by a scornful smile. After being suspended for a couple of minutes, he was cut down, and laid, still breathing, upon the block, when the terrible sentence was carried out--his heart being flung into the flames and consumed, and his head severed from the body and placed with the quarters in the coffin, which had been brought round to receive the mangled remains. Colonel Townley's head, we may mention, with that of poor Jemmy Dawson, was afterwards set on Temple Bar. Many of the spectators of this tragic scene were greatly affected--but those about to suffer a like fate witnessed it with stern and stoical indifference. Amid a deep and awful hush, broken by an occasional sob, Jemmy Dawson stepped quickly up the ladder, as if anxious to meet his doom; and when his light graceful figure and handsome countenance could be distinguished by the crowd, a murmur of compassion arose. Again the fair face--now death-like in hue--was seen at the window of the mourning coach, and Jemmy's dying gaze was fixed upon it. As his lifeless body was cut down and placed upon the block to be mutilated, and the executioner flung his faithful heart, which happily had ceased beating, into the flames, a cry was heard, and those nearest the mourning coach we have alluded to pressed towards it, and beheld the inanimate form of a beautiful girl lying in the arms of an attendant. All was over. The story spread from lip to lip among the deeply-sympathising crowd, and many a tear was shed, and many a prayer breathed that lovers so fond and true might be united above. Before allowing the curtain to drop on this ghastly spectacle, which lasted upwards of an hour, we feel bound to state that all the sufferers died bravely. Not one quailed. With his last breath, and in a loud voice, Captain Deacon called out "God save King James the Third!" When the halter was placed round poor Tom Syddall's neck, the executioner remarked that he trembled. "Tremble!" exclaimed Tom, indignantly. "I recoil from thy hateful touch--that is all." And to prove that his courage was unshaken, he took a pinch of snuff. The heads of these two brave men were sent to Manchester, and fixed upon spikes on the top of the Exchange. When he heard that this had been done, Dr. Deacon came forth, and gazed steadfastly at the relics, but without manifesting any sign of grief.