Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 17
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 17
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
If I had not been under the strict law of professional
discipline, I would certainly have allowed him to lie down and pass into
death or oblivion. I had, however, my duty to perform; and, strange as it
may appear, that duty quadrated with the wishes of the young man himself;
who, as he struggled with the demon that threatened to overpower him,
seemed to rise in hope as every minute diminished the chance of his
salvation. By the increased energies of the men, he was again roused into a
less dull perception of sounds, and I could perceive him start as the
rattle of the wheels of a carriage was heard at the jail door. He fixed his
half-dead, staring eye in my face, and muttered, with a difficult effort of
his sinking jaws--
"Is that it--is that it?--I hear a carriage wheels, and they have stopped
at the door."
As he uttered the words, it appeared as if he again exerted himself to keep
the enemy, who still threatened him, at bay. I replied nothing; for I
suspected that the carriage brought only some official, or, probably, some
mourner, to see him, previous to the fatal scene--that scene which, in all
likelihood, I was endeavouring to render more heart-rending to his friends
and spectators, by keeping alive the vital spark, that might only serve to
make him conscious of pain. It appeared to be too evident that he had
increased tenfold the misery of his situation; for the stern law would
admit of no excuse, and if he was not able to walk to the scaffold he would
be carried; yet, if I remitted my endeavours to keep in life, I might, in
the event of the looked-for reprieve still arriving, be liable to be
accused, by my own conscience, of having been as cruel as the law itself.
The door of the jail now opened, and a turnkey told me that the usual time
had arrived when the officials began their preparatory duties. I replied
that it was in vain to attempt, at present, the performance of these sacred
rites; the prisoner was wrestling with death; and, if the exertions of the
men, who kept still dragging him backwards and forwards, were remitted, he
would sink, in a few minutes, into insensibility. I noticed the eye of poor
Eugene turned imploringly upon me, as if he wished to know who it was that
had arrived in the carriage. I merely shook my head; and the sign was no
sooner made than his chin fell down on his breast; his limbs became weaker,
his knees bent, and if the supporters had not exerted themselves still
farther, he would have sunk. But the men still performed their duty, and
dragged him hurriedly along, scarcely now with any aid from his feet,
which, obeying no impulse of the loose and flaccid muscles, were thrown
about in every direction, with, a shuffling, lumbering noise, and a
clanking of the chain, that must have produced an extraordinary effect on
those who waited in the adjoining cells. The noise thus produced was indeed
all that was heard; for the effect of the poison was such as to take away
all power of groaning.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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