believe this man. She is
the victim of a wicked King. As you have wives, daughters, sweethearts,
stand by me and save her."

He appealed eagerly to the crowd, rushing to man after man among them,
but each shook his head and hung back, daunted by the terrible charge of
witchcraft.

"Sorcery's a vile thing," said one.

"I'll not meddle with sorcery," said another.

Perpetua's hopes drooped as she saw how popular feeling fell from her.

"I am no sorceress, men of Syracuse," she said, sadly.

Robert pointed to the pale, beautiful girl standing by the pillar and
surrounded by the armed men.

"Can you look upon her and believe one evil thought? Save her, in God's
name!"

Again the crowd swayed a little towards the soldiers, urged by Robert,
urged by Hieronymus. Again it fell back when Hildebrand raised his hand.

"Friends, this fellow is a madman. If you ask him he will tell you that
he is the King."

The crowd that was wellnigh stirred to mutiny by Robert's appeals drew
back from him suspiciously.

Hildebrand saw his advantage and pressed it. "Is it not so, fellow? Are
you not the King?"

Robert's hands raised in appeal, raised in menace, dropped inertly to
his side, and his head drooped on his breast.

"I was the King," he said, in a voice that was but a whisper.

Hildebrand caught at the admission exultantly.

"You hear him? Secure him!"

All his supporters, save Hieronymus, ebbed away from Robert. Two of
Sigurd's soldiers seized him. Whatever chance there might have been of
rescuing Perpetua was lost.

Hildebrand went on, triumphantly:

"Against witchcraft no sanctuary prevails. Let no man hinder the King's
justice on pain of death."

Lycabetta, who had crept near to Perpetua, whispered in her ear:

"My lord Flame is a fierce lover. He clings close and he kisses quick
and he will not spare your modesty. You will burn like a bright torch."

Then Lycabetta went out of the church as she had come in, with a smile
on her face.

Perpetua called to Hieronymus. "Is there no help?"

"There is no help," Hieronymus answered, despairingly.

"Then I will go to death holding my head high," the girl said,
valiantly.

"Take her away," Hildebrand ordered; and at his order Perpetua was borne
away in the midst of a guard of soldiers and followed by Hieronymus.
"Clear the church."

The remaining soldiers drove the crowd into the streets.

"Fling the fool on the altar steps. I think he will have a praying