th would
be lost in sight; hope would be lost in joy; but love would abide for
ever and ever.

Her mother came up and kissed her.

"My blessed dear," she said, "be strong in the Lord!"

They chained the two elder men at one stake; the two women at another:
Elizabeth and Robert together at the last. The Sheriff's men put the
chain round them both, and hammered the other end fast, so that they
should not attempt to escape.

Escape! none of them dreamed of such a thing. They cared neither for
pain nor shame. To their eyes Heaven itself was open, and the Lord
Christ, on the right hand of the Father, would rise to receive His
servants. Nor did they say much to each other. There would be time for
that when all was over! Were they not going the journey together? would
they not dwell in happy company, through the long years of eternity?
The man who was nailing the chain close to where Elizabeth stood
accidentally let his hammer slip. He had not intended to hurt her; but
the hammer came down heavily upon her shoulder and made a severe wound.
She turned her head to him and smiled on him. Then she lifted up her
eyes to heaven and prayed. Her last few moments were spent in alternate
prayer and exhortation of the crowd.

The torch was applied to the firewood and tar-barrels heaped around
them. As the flame sprang up, the six martyrs clapped their hands: and
from the bystanders a great cry rose to heaven,--

"The Lord strengthen them! the Lord comfort them! the Lord pour His
mercies upon them!"

Ah, it was not England, but Rome, who burned those Marian martyrs! The
heart of England was sound and true; she was a victim, not a persecutor.

Just as the flame reached its fiercest heat, there was a slight cry in
the crowd, which parted hither and thither as a girl was borne out of it
insensible. She had fainted after uttering that cry. It was no wonder,
said those who stood near: the combined heat of the August sun and the
fire was scarcely bearable. She would come round shortly if she were
taken into the shade to recover.

Half-an-hour afterwards nothing could be seen beside the Lexden Road but
the heated and twisted chains, with fragments of charred wood and of
grey ashes. The crowd had gone home.

And the martyrs had gone home too. No more should the sun light upon
them, nor any heat. The Lamb in the midst of the Throne had led them to
living fountains of water, and they were comforted for evermore.

"Who