Outside the door stood one of the soldiers. Before the full sentence was carried into execution, he was taken into a small room adjoining the court. Here, according to another old custom, already alluded to, a criminal taken to execution was allowed to halt at a tavern, called the Crown, and take a draught from St. It wasn’t pretty. He reached for her and she stroked his head soothingly as his mother had done a few times when he had suffered bad fevers. What was it in her heart or mind or soul that went out to this man? Music—was that it? Was he powerless to stir her without the gift? But hadn't he fascinated her by his talk, gentle and winning? Ah, but that had been after he had played for her. You've betrayed yourself, Thames.
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