Flinging her over his shoulder, he ascended the ladder and placed the noose around her neck. She mumbled prayers as Dounton, puffing casually on his pipe, secured her arms and legs. Martha Corey stepped forward with as much dignity as possible. He invoked the name of God and then signaled the waiting militia to begin the execution call. Reverend Noyes again officiated, his voice resonating in the crisp autumn air. Then he clambered up the ladder and straddled the sturdy limb. The militia assembled, sticks poised above their snare drums as Ned dropped the ropes into a careless heap at the base of the tree. Lord, let not my last thoughts be those of hatred and vengeance. These are my very last footfalls, she thought glumly. Even without the chains, her feet felt as though they were leaden. The hem of Rebecca’s mud-coated shift clung to her legs. Dounton and his men lashed the two ladders together while the spectators assembled at the base of the hill. They slogged up Gallows Hill, forming a somber and silent queue as they took their places beneath the shade of the great oak tree.
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