He was to be taken to a certain little rise on the
outskirts of the village, where the Police had shot a
notorious malcontent and murderer some years before, and
there he was, in his turn, to be executed. This would be
retributive justice! Pasmore recollected with cynical
amusement how some of these very same rebels had lived
for years in dread of their lives from that desperado,
and how at the time nearly the whole population had
expressed their satisfaction and thanks to the Police
for getting rid of the outlaw, who had been killed in
resisting arrest. Now, when it suited their ends, the
latter was a martyr, and he was a malefactor. He wished
they would hurry up and shoot him out of hand, if he was
to be shot He did not know what horrible formality might
not be in store for him before they did that. But how
beautifully the sun was shining! He had hardly thought
that Battleford could be so fair to look upon.
At last he saw several breeds approaching, and one of
them carried with him an axe and a quantity of rope.
And behind the breeds, greeted by lusty acclamations from
the mob, came Louis Riel.
CHAPTER XVII
A CLOSE CALL
As the would-be priest and originator of two rebellions
approached Pasmore, the ragged, wild-eyed, clamorous
crowd made way for him. It was ludicrous to note the air
of superiority and braggadocio that this inordinately
vain and ambitious man adopted. The prisoner was standing
surrounded by his now largely augmented guard, who,
forgetful of one another's contiguity, had their many
wonderfully and fearfully made blunderbusses levelled at
him, ready to blow him into little pieces at a moment's
notice if he made the slightest attempt to resist or
escape.
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