“Why am I to become a member of your church?  Do you, then, punish those who refuse?”

“No:  had you not already consented to receive baptism, you would not have been asked to become so; but having been baptised, you must now become a member, or be supposed to fall back into heresy.”

“I knew not the nature of your baptism at that time.”

“Granted:  but you consented to it.”

“Be it so.  But, pray, what may be the punishment, if I refuse?”

“You will be burnt alive at the stake; nothing can save you.  Hear me, Amine Vanderdecken:  when next summoned, you must confess all; and, asking pardon, request to be received into the church; then will you be saved, and you will—­”

“What?”

“Again be clasped in Philip’s arms.”

“My Philip! my Philip! you, indeed, press me hard; but, Father, if I confess I am wrong, when I feel that I am not”

“Feel that you are not!”

“Yes.  I invoked my mother’s assistance; she gave it me in a dream.  Would a mother have assisted her daughter, if it were wrong?”

“It was not your mother, but a fiend who took the likeness.”

“It was my mother.  Again you ask me to say that I believe that which I cannot.”

“That which you cannot!  Amine Vanderdecken, be not obstinate.”

“I am not obstinate, good Father.  Have you not offered me, what is to me beyond all price, that I should again be in the arms of my husband?  Can I degrade myself to a lie? not for life, or liberty or even for my Philip.”

“Amine Vanderdecken, if you will confess your crime, before you are accused, you will have done much; after your accusation has been made, it will be of little avail.”

“It will not be done either before or after, Father.  What I have done I have done, but a crime it is not to me and mine; with you it may be, but I am not of yours.”

“Recollect also that you peril your husband, for having wedded with a sorceress.  Forget not:  to-morrow I will see you again.”

“My mind is troubled,” replied Amine.  “Leave me, Father, it will be a kindness.”

Father Mathias quitted the cell, pleased with the last words of Amine.  The idea of her husband’s danger seemed to have startled her.

Amine threw herself down on the mattress, in the corner of the cell, and hid her face.

“Burnt alive!” exclaimed she after a time, sitting up, and passing her hands over her forehead.  “Burnt alive! and these are Christians.  This, then, was the cruel death foretold by that creature, Schriften—­foretold—­yes, and therefore must be:  it is my destiny:  I cannot save myself.  If I confess, then, I confess that Philip is wedded to a sorceress, and he will be punished too.  No, never—­never:  I can suffer, ’tis cruel—­’tis horrible to think of—­but ’twill soon be over.  God of my fathers, give me strength against these wicked men, and enable me to bear all, for my dear Philip’s sake.”