noon
There was a sea of upturned faces , all pale and with one fixed look , a myriad times repeated , pointed to the base of the Tower below his window where he could not see . Then he fell back upon the ground , burying his face in his hands . Dacre himself had slept that night a dreamless sleep , as he had slept any night before in the years since he had seen his path and chosen it . At noon the people came to his cell and led him out . Numbers of men were standing in the corridor and on the stairs ; he looked on between the lines and walked to the door . Then he begged that his handcuffs might be removed . As he paused a moment , Richard Lincoln stepped forward and ordered that it should be done .