Then he returned to the wretched man in the dock and offered him no vain hope of reprieve, reminding him for he could not even at this most solemn hour refrain from insulting his political enemies that "this poisoning was a popish trick," and then he urged him. that he should spend his few remaining days in further "discovering the guiltiness of the great ones; assuring him that after this life as death left him so judgment should find him," with which parting reminder he dismissed him to Tyburn.

But the world was by no means satisfied to part with the fellow without knowing more of his doings, and on October 25th a distinguished company assembled at Tyburn to hear his last words. The strange course of his trial, the indecent behaviour of Coke, and the unsatisfactory nature of the evidence made men wonder what truth there might be in his story and whether he had really confessed or not the crimes laid to his charge.

Many gentlemen therefore rode out to Tyburn, and among those that took up their places near the tree were Sir John Lidcote, Overbury's brother-in-law, Sir John Hollis, Sir William Monson, Sir Henry Vane, Sir John Wentworth, and others, some of whom were firm adherents of the Earl of Somerset. It cannot be supposed that Sir John Lidcote thought the verdict and sentence unjust, and not all these gentlemen had the same view of the guilt of the parties, but all were agreed that to hang this man, who, after all, was the chief witness implicating the Earl and Countess of Somerset, after a trial which proved little or nothing, was a thoroughly unsatisfactory proceeding, and it would be of some avail to hear what the man himself had to say about it in his last moments.

The poor wretch arrived in the cart with the Sheriff and his attendants and was drawn under the tree. Sir John Lidcote and his companions pushed their horses through the crowd to the side of the

cart as the hangman was putting the rope round Weston's neck.

"I ask you," cried Sir John, "did you poison Sir Thomas Overbury?"

Hollis, Wentworth, and some others pressed him with like questions.

The hangman stopped his grim business for a moment. The miserable Weston turned to the Sheriff and murmured: "You promised I should not be troubled at this time."

Lidcote fell back, but Sir John Wentworth urged him to answer. "For then," he said, "I will readily

pray with you."

But even this courtesy did not appeal to the wretch at the gates of death, who answered: "I die not unworthily, my Lord Chief Justice hath my mind under his hand and he is an honourable and just judge."

"Nay, but you should discharge your conscience and so satisfy the world," shouted Sir John Hollis, who did not hold my Lord Chief Justice in the same esteem as did his unhappy victim.

The Sheriff at this signalled to the hangman to proceed. The cart was drawn away. A sigh rose from the mob. The body dangled and twitched in the air for a few moments and all was over.

One man who knew the truth of the Overbury mystery was dead.

Chapter XXVI: The Butterfly on the

F

Wheel

AIR Mrs. Turner had been placed in the custody of Alderman Jones, and on October 3rd

had been brought before Coke and confronted with Franklin and Weston, but nothing could be got out of her though no doubt Coke did his best to persuade her to some sort of confession. Nevertheless, she refused to say a word that could be of any use as evidence in the case, and positively denied that she had paid Weston £180 or had any dealings with Franklin, a conjurer and quack of a low type, whose wild stories to Coke were for the most part manifest lies.

Poor Anne Turner! One cannot but feel pity for this unhappy butterfly so soon to be broken on the wheel of the law. She was evidently entirely ignorant of the peril in which she stood. A dainty, delicate, pleasureloving creature, she had served the great ones in their selfish dissipations and been a hanger-on of the power and luxury of the Howards who seemed to her small vision to have the conduct of the world. That any judge or lawyer could have dominion over her mistress and master was an idea that could not enter her feeble brain. She was still secure in their friendship and support; her trusting content in the power of her noble patrons was the real tragedy of the last scene of her life.

So certain was she that the trial she was to undergo was to be a mere overture to her return to her home and children, that on October 12th she sent in a humble petition to the Lord Chief Justice, complaining of the malicious and scandalous accusations of her suborned

adversaries and pointing out the extreme inconvenience, both from the point of view of her health and business, in being kept from access to her friends. Not only for herself does she beg for a speedy trial, but for her many poor fatherless children, who are in grief and distress for the lack of the comfort of a mother's care. If the speedy trial is not possible she suggests that she be set at liberty upon putting in sufficient bail to be at all times ready to appear before the Lord Chief Justice whensoever she shall be called for. One can almost see the grim smile which lights up the face of the old judge as he reads this pitiable prayer and takes up his pen from the table to write in the margin "Speedy trial" as granting her request.

No sooner has Weston's troublesome affair been brought to a wholesome conclusion than his Lordship proceeds to the speedy trial he has promised little Mrs. Turner. The date is fixed for November 7th, 1615, and this time the scene is laid at Westminster. The pretty lady bestows much time and care on her costume, and has especially designed for the captivation of the jury a bewitching hat to cover her golden hair. Moreover, she has a yellow ruff and cuffs, the starch of which she alone knew the secret, and it is said that the colour set off her charms to perfection. Thus equipped she set off with the alderman in his coach to Westminster as if on a holiday.

The Court is crowded to excess, and scaffolds with seats have been set up in the hall that as many as possible may see the pageant of justice which Coke has staged in the King's Bench. The beautiful widow stands radiant at the bar and bows prettily to the Court. Coke gazes sulkily at the hat, and whether he feared it might have a disturbing effect on the minds of the jury, or whether he did it merely to show his mastery, he growls out in bullying spirit: "You are not in church now, madam, but must be uncovered." How far this was good law in the thirteenth year of James I, who shall say,

a

but the poor woman has, perforce, to remove her charming creation and cover her hair with a handkerchief.

The indictment is the same as in Weston's case, except that the woman is further charged with comforting and assisting Weston in his crimes. A jury of knights, esquires, and freeholders of Middlesex is empanelled and the woman pleads "Not guilty," in a clear voice, putting herself upon God and the country with manifest confidence.

And now Sir Lawrence Hyde opens the matter much to the same effect as he did in Weston's arraignment, and she hears for the first time the story of Overbury's murder and how she is alleged to be actor, art and part of the crime. Not content with the matter relevant to the actual poisoning, the Crown go back to the whole history of the intrigue between the Countess of Essex and Viscount Rochester, and the part played by Anne Turner and Dr. Forman in bewitching the Earl of Essex and procuring Rochester to love the Countess.

It must have seemed like a rehearsal of the day of judgment to the wretched woman who finds, to her blank dismay and astonishment, that the whole of her past, foolish, sinful life is known to these dry lawyers who can tell the jury in detail her love affairs with Sir Arthur Maynwaring and her conferences with the magicians and her dealings with Franklin and Weston. Sir Lawrence reads the letter which the Countess of Essex wrote to her "Sweet Turner," and the more damning epistle to Dr. Forman, the "Sweet Father" of " your affectionate loving daughter Frances Essex, with its postscript: "Give Turner warning of all things, but not the Lord; I would not have anything come out for fear of the Lord Treasurer, for so they may tell my father and fill their ears full of toys."

But Sir Lawrence has more wonders to disclose. He produces foul, obscene figures of men and women made in lead and the mould in brass by which they were formed, and a black scarf full of white crosses which,