Helene came forward and put her hand in mine in token that I spoke truly, and there fell a great silence across the people.  I saw the Lady Ysolinde straining at her father’s hand, like a dog in a leash when the quarry rises.

Then my love kissed me once, just as though she had been saying good-night in the Red Tower, simply and sweetly, like a child, and laid her head down on the block as on the white pillow of her own bed.

“God do so and more also to them on whose heads is the innocent blood of my love and my wife!”

The words burst from me rather than were uttered.

I raised the blade.

But ere the Red Axe could fall there arose a wild scream from the Duke’s enclosure.  Some one cried, “Let me go!  He has said it!  He has said it!  I will not be silent any longer!” It was the Lady Ysolinde, who had broken away from her father’s hand.

“The girl is his wife,” she went on.  “He has claimed her—­according to the laws of the Wolfmark, that cannot be broken, he has called her his wife.  It is the Executioner’s right.  One woman he can claim as his during his term of office—­one only, and for his wife.  Duke Otho, I call upon you to allow it!  Chancellor Texel, I call upon you to read the law!  I have it here in my hand.  Head!  Read! I will save my soul!  I will save my soul!”

And ere any one could stop her, the Lady Ysolinde, sobbing and laughing both at once, had overleaped the light barrier, and was thrusting a parchment with a seal into the hands of the Chancellor Michael Texel.

“She is mad.  Let the justice of the realm be done!” cried again the voice of Master Gerard.

And I think the Duke would have ordered it to be so.  But there arose not only a roar from the people, but, what Otho minded far more, an ominous murmur among the nobles and gentlemen and from the ranks of men-at-arms.

“The law!  The law!  Read us the law!”

And even Otho dare not trifle with the will of the free companions of the Mark.  For in all the realm they were now his only supporters.  Helene had risen to her feet, and stood, pale of face but erect, resting, as was her wont, one hand on my shoulder.

Then Michael Texel read the scroll aloud.

“It is the immemorial privilege of the Hereditary Executioner of the Mark, being of the family of Gottfried, a privilege not to be abrogated or alienated, that during the term of office of each, he may claim—­not as a boon, but as a right—­the life of one man for a bond-servant, or the life of one woman for a wife.  Thus, by order of the States’ Council, to be the privilege of the Gottfrieds forever, it has been proclaimed!”

As Michael Texel went on, I saw the countenance of the Duke and the lawyer change.  I knew that salvation had come to us like lightning from a clear sky, and I hastened to demand the right which was mine own.

So soon as he had finished I shouted with all my power: