earfully offended against her
king, and against God, should be punished!"

"Yes, she has offended fearfully, and yet two years have passed away
since her offence," cried Gardiner--"two years which she has spent in
deriding God and mocking the king!"

"Ah," said the king, "we have still hoped to turn this young, misguided
creature from the ways of sin and error to the path of wisdom and
repentance. We wished for once to give our people a shining example of
our willingness to forgive those who repent and renounce their heresy,
and to restore them to a participation of our royal favor. Therefore it
was that we commissioned you, my lord bishop, by virtue of your prayers
and your forcible and convincing words, to pluck this poor child from
the claws of the devil, who has charmed her ear."

"But she is unbending," said Gardiner, grinding his teeth. "In vain have
I depicted to her the pains of hell, which await her if she return not
to the faith; in vain have I subjected her to every variety of torture
and penance; in vain have I sent to her in prison other converts,
and had them pray with her night and day incessantly; she remains
unyielding, hard as stone, and neither the fear of punishment nor the
prospect of freedom and happiness has the power to soften that marble
heart."

"There is one means yet untried," said Wriothesley--"a means, moreover,
which is a more effective preacher of repentance than the most
enthusiastic orators and the most fervent prayers, and which I have to
thank for bringing back to God and the faith many of the most hardened
heretics."

"And this means is--"

"The rack, your majesty."

"Ah, the rack!" replied the king, with an involuntary shudder.

"All means are good that lead to the holy end!" said Gardiner, devoutly
folding his hands.

"The soul must be saved, though the body be pierced with wounds!" cried
Wriothesley.

"The people must be convinced," said Douglas, "that the lofty spirit
of the king spares not even those who are under the protection of
influential and might personages. The people murmur that this time
justice is not permitted to prevail, because Archbishop Cranmer protects
Anne Askew, and the queen is her friend."

"The queen is never the friend of a criminal!" said Henry, vehemently.

"Perchance she does not consider Anne Askew a criminal," responded Karl
Douglas, with a slight smile. "It is known, indeed, that the queen is a
great friend of the Reformation; and the