"Well, it is all over," said Sir Thomas, as he took his seat at the
table.

"Yes, it is," said the ordinary, in the same tone which I had heard a
few moments before, and admired as appropriately solemn. "It is all
over, and--" putting his cup and saucer to the under-sheriff, who
prepared to pour out the tea--"I am very glad of it."

"I hope you do not mean the breakfast is all over," remarked the
sheriff, whose wit I had previously admired, "for I have had none yet."

The moment had not arrived at which humour like this could be duly
appreciated, and I did not observe that any of the company gave even
that sort of _note of face_ for a laugh which we had all used half an
hour before.

Our conversation turned naturally on the manner in which the sufferers
had conducted themselves; on the wishes they had expressed, and the
confessions they had made.

But while I looked on the hospitably spread table, I could not help
connecting operations rather different in their character, which must
have been going on at the same moment. "In my mind's eye," I saw the
attendants carrying the fowl and eggs to the breakfast table, while the
sheriffs and their guests were conducting the sufferers to the scaffold.

From what I have already said, it must be inferred that the first
speeches which accomplished the circuit of the table, were of a very
serious character. But, mingled with them, some common breakfast-table