The Grand Inquisitor gave the signal, and the fires were all lighted at the same moment.  In compliance with the request of the priest, the executioner had thrown a quantity of wet straw upon Amine’s pile, which threw up a dense smoke before it burnt into flames.

“Mother! mother!  I come to thee!” were the last words heard from Amine’s lips.

The flames soon raged furiously, ascending high above the top of the stake to which she had been chained.  Gradually they sunk down; and only when the burning embers covered the ground, a few fragments of bones hanging on the chain were all that remained of the once peerless and high-minded Amine.

Chapter XLI

Years have, passed away since we related Amine’s sufferings and cruel death; and now once more we bring Philip Vanderdecken on the scene.  And during this time, where has he been?  A lunatic—­at one time frantic, chained, coerced with blows; at others, mild and peaceable.  Reason occasionally appeared to burst out again, as the sun on a cloudy day, and then it was again obscured.  For many years there was one who watched him carefully, and lived in hope to witness his return to a sane mind; he watched in sorrow and remorse,—­he died without his desires being gratified.  This was Father Mathias!

The cottage at Terneuse had long fallen into ruin; for many years it waited the return of its owners, and at last the heirs-at-law claimed and recovered the substance of Philip Vanderdecken.  Even the fate of Amine had passed from the recollection of most people; although her portrait, over burning coals, with her crime announced beneath it, still hangs—­as is the custom in the church of the Inquisition—­attracting, from its expressive beauty, the attention of the most careless passers-by.

But many, many years have rolled away—­Philip’s hair is white—­his once-powerful frame is broken down—­and he appears much older than he really is.  He is now sane; but his vigour is gone.  Weary of life, all he wishes for is to execute his mission—­and then to welcome death.

The relic has never been taken from him:  he has been discharged from the lunatic asylum, and has been provided with the means of returning to his country.  Alas! he has now no country—­no home—­nothing in the world to induce him to remain in it.  All he asks is—­to do his duty and to die.

The ship was ready to sail for Europe; and Philip Vanderdecken went on board—­hardly caring whither he went.  To return to Terneuse was not his object; he could not bear the idea of revisiting the scene of so much happiness and so much misery.  Amine’s form was engraven on his heart, and he looked forward with impatience to the time when he should be summoned to join her in the land of spirits.