for the living, five for the dead.  The executioners were sitting on, or standing by, the piles of wood and faggots, waiting for their victims.  Amine could not walk; she was at first supported by the familiars, and then carried by them, to the stake which had been assigned for her.  When they put her on her feet opposite to it, her courage appeared to revive, she walked boldly up, folded her arms, and leant against it.

The executioners now commenced their office:  the chains were passed round Amine’s body—­the wood and faggots piled around her.  The same preparations had been made with all the other culprits, and the confessors stood by the side of each victim.  Amine waved her hand indignantly to those who approached her, when Father Mathias, almost breathless, made his appearance from the crowd, through which he had forced his way.

“Amine Vanderdecken—­unhappy woman! had you been counselled by me this would not have been.  Now it is too late, but not too late to save your soul.  Away then with this obstinacy—­this hardness of heart; call upon the blessed Saviour, that He may receive your spirit—­call upon His wounds for mercy.  It is the eleventh hour, but not too late.  Amine,” continued the old man, with tears, “I implore, I conjure you.  At least, may this load of trouble be taken from my heart.”

“‘Unhappy woman!’ you say?” replied she, “say rather, ’unhappy priest:’  for Amine’s sufferings will soon be over, while you must still endure the torments of the damned.  Unhappy was the day when my husband rescued you from death.  Still more unhappy the compassion which prompted him to offer you an asylum and a refuge.  Unhappy the knowledge of you from the first day to the last.  I leave you to your conscience—­if conscience you retain—­nor would I change this cruel death for the pangs which you in your future life will suffer.  Leave me—­I die in the faith of my forefathers, and scorn a creed that warrants such a scene as this.”

“Amine Vanderdecken,” cried the priest on his knees, clasping his hands in agony.

“Leave me, Father.”

“There is but a minute left—­for the love of God—­”

“I tell you then, leave me—­that minute is my own.”

Father Mathias turned away in despair, and the tears coursed down the old man’s cheeks.  As Amine said, his misery was extreme.

The head executioner now inquired of the confessors whether the culprits died in the true faith?  If answered in the affirmative, a rope was passed round their necks and twisted to the stake, so that they were strangled before the fire was kindled.  All the other culprits had died in this manner; and the head executioner inquired of Father Mathias, whether Amine had a claim to so much mercy.  The old priest answered not, but shook his head.

The executioner turned away.  After a moment’s pause, Father Mathias followed him, and seized him by the arm, saying, in a faltering voice, “Let her not suffer long.”