THE HALT AT NEWGATE.

It was a day of triumph to Bonner, and his heart swelled with pride and gratified vengeance as he marched along. The precincts of the cathedral were crowded with spectators, as indeed were all the streets traversed by the cortége on its way to Smithfield. The majority of the beholders being Romanists, they prostrated themselves devoutly as the host went by, while the priests accompanying the bishop sprinkled them with holy water.

However, there were many who refused to kneel, and who were only restrained by fear from giving utterance to their abhorrence of the ceremony. As the train was passing through Ludgate, a man called out in a stentorian voice, “So, my masters, at last we have got the Inquisition in England!” But scarcely had the words escaped him, when he was seized and dragged off.

Arrived at Newgate, where Prebend Rogers had been kept since his condemnation, the cortége came to a halt, and, after a short delay, the prisoner was brought forth. He was a man of middle age, tall of stature, thin, but well-built, dark-complexioned, and possessing a grave, intelligent countenance.

He looked perfectly composed, and remarked, as he noticed the extent of the cortége, “Ye make as great a show 266as if ye were about to conduct me to a festival, and not to the stake.”

While the sheriffs, who had charge of the doomed man, and who wore their robes and chains, were mounting their horses, a painful incident occurred. With loud cries, that ought to have moved every breast, a woman, having a young child in her arms, and with several other terrified children clinging to her, burst through the ranks of the halberdiers, exclaiming, “For Christ our Saviour’s sake, let me bid a last farewell to my husband!”

“Get hence, importunate and troublesome woman!” cried one of the sheriffs, named Woodrooffe, in loud and harsh tones. “This man is not t............