r of daybreak, and his attendants, considering
the state of the weather, and that it yet wanted full two hours to the
time appointed for the execution, did not think it needful to disturb
him. Braddyll and Assheton, however, were up and ready; but, despite
their firmness of nerve, they yielded like the rest to the depressing
influence of the weather, and began to have some misgivings as to their
own share in the tragedy about to be enacted. The various gentlemen in
attendance paced to and fro within the hall, holding but slight converse
together, anxiously counting the minutes, for the time appeared to pass
on with unwonted slowness, and ever and anon glancing through the
diamond panes of the window at the rain pouring down steadily without,
and coming back again hopeless of amendment in the weather.

If such were the disheartening influence of the day on those who had
nothing to apprehend, what must its effect have been on the poor
captives! Woful indeed. The two monks suffered a complete prostration of
spirit. All the resolution which Father Haydocke had displayed in his
interview with the Earl of Derby, failed him now, and he yielded to the
agonies of despair. Father Eastgate was in little better condition, and
gave vent to unavailing lamentations, instead of paying heed to the
consolatory discourse of the monk who had been permitted to visit him.

The abbot was better sustained. Though greatly enfeebled by the
occurrences of the night, yet in proportion as his bodily strength
decreased, his mental energies rallied. Since the confession of his
secret offence, and the conviction he had obtained that his supposed
victim still lived, a weight seemed taken from his breast, and he had no
longer any dread of death. Rather he looked to the speedy termination of
existence with hopeful pleasure. He prepared himself as decently as the
means afforded him permitted for his last appearance before the world,
but refused all refreshment except a cup of water, and being left to
himself was praying fervently, when a man was admitted into his cell.
Thinking it might be the executioner come to summon him, he arose, and
to his surprise beheld Hal o' Nabs. The countenance of the rustic was
pale, but his bearing was determined.

"You here, my son," cried Paslew. "I hoped you had escaped."

"Ey'm i' nah dawnger, feyther abbut," replied Hal. "Ey'n getten leef to
visit ye fo a minute only, so ey mun be brief. Mey yourself easy, ye
shanna