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Volume 10, No. 271, September 1, 1827


Various / 2008-10-09 00:00:00

Here I found the other sheriff, the
ordinary, the under-sheriff, the city-marshal, and one or two of the
individuals I had previously met, already seated.
"Well, it is all over," said Sir Thomas, as he took his seat at the
table.
"Yes, it is," said the ordinary, in the same tone which I had heard a
few moments before, and admired as appropriately solemn. "It is all
over, and--" putting his cup and saucer to the under-sheriff, who
prepared to pour out the tea--"I am very glad of it."
"I hope you do not mean the breakfast is all over," remarked the
sheriff, whose wit I had previously admired, "for I have had none yet."
The moment had not arrived at which humour like this could be duly
appreciated, and I did not observe that any of the company gave even
that sort of _note of face_ for a laugh which we had all used half an
hour before.
Our conversation turned naturally on the manner in which the sufferers
had conducted themselves; on the wishes they had expressed, and the
confessions they had made.
But while I looked on the hospitably spread table, I could not help
connecting operations rather different in their character, which must
have been going on at the same moment. "In my mind's eye," I saw the
attendants carrying the fowl and eggs to the breakfast table, while the
sheriffs and their guests were conducting the sufferers to the scaffold.
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