cted at learning this fact, as he considered it a special
providence, indicating that he was prepared to die, and that he should
be sustained in the final agony.

About ten o'clock, Colonel Hacker, who was the first one named in the
warrant of execution of the three persons to whom the warrant was
addressed, knocked gently at the king's chamber door. No answer was
returned. Presently he knocked again. The king asked his attendant to
go to the door. He went, and asked Colonel Hacker why he knocked. He
replied that he wished to see the king.

"Let him come in," said the king.

The officer entered, but with great embarrassment and trepidation. He
felt that he had a most awful duty to perform. He informed the king
that it was time to proceed to Whitehall, though he could have some
time there for rest. "Very well," said the king; "go on; I will
follow." The king then took the bishop's arm, and they went along
together.

They found, as they issued from the palace of St. James into the park
through which their way lay to Whitehall, that lines of soldiers had
been drawn up. The king, with the bishop on one side, and the
attendant before referred to, whose name was Herbert, on the other,
both uncovered, walked between these lines of guards. The king walked
on very fast, so that the others scarcely kept pace with him. When he
arrived at Whitehall he spent some further time in devotion, with the
bishop, and then, at noon, he ate a little bread and drank some light
wine. Soon after this, Colonel Hacker, the officer, came to the door
and let them know that the hour had arrived.

The bishop and Hacker melted into tears as they bade their master
farewell. The king directed the door to be opened, and requested the
officer to go on, saying that he would follow. They went through a
large hall, called the banqueting hall, to a window in front, through
which a passage had been made for the king to his scaffold, which was
built up in the street before the palace. As the king passed out
through the window, he perceived that a vast throng of spectators had
assembled in the streets to witness the spectacle. He had expected
this, and had intended to address them. But he found that this was
impossible, as the space all around the scaffold was occupied with
troops of horse and bodies of soldiers, so as to keep the populace at
so great a distance that they could not hear his voice. He, however,
made his speech, addressing it particularly to