ng on towards the stakes, where the
victims were thus cruelly kept. But their hearts were lifted up in
prayer, their eyes turned towards heaven. They heeded not what was
taking place around them. The young Aveline knew that there her sainted
mother had yielded up her life, and she was sure that the pathway she
was about to tread would carry her in the same direction.

And now there was a loud cry, and a man on horseback was seen galloping
towards the spot. We could not hear the words spoken, but there seemed
to be great agitation among the magistrates and priests. The crowd
swayed to and fro to let the horseman pass.

"Stay the execution! Stay the execution!" he shouted, seeing that the
men with torches were about to cast them on the piles of faggots. "I
command you in the Queen's name. She will have no more burning in
Smithfield!"

"This is an impostor!" exclaimed the Bishop. "Our good Queen would not
hinder so holy a work."

"What Queen sends you?" asked the magistrate.

"Queen Elizabeth!" cried the herald. "Queen Mary is dead! And by the
command of our new Queen, Sir William Cecil despatched me instantly to
put a stop to these murderous proceedings. Long live Queen Elizabeth!"

The cry was taken up by the crowd, who, rushing forward, dragged away
the faggots from round the prisoners. The magistrates and the priests
fled, the guards dispersed. Those who had charge of the garments of the
prisoners brought them. A'Dale and I rushed forward to assist Aveline,
who threw herself, weeping, upon my shoulder. When the friars' garments
were brought to Overton and Roger Upton--such was his name--they put
them aside.

"No, no; we will never again use those habits of the worst of
slaveries," they answered; and, on hearing this, some kind people in the
crowd brought them cloaks and hats, which they thankfully put on. Of
the other persons who were about to suffer death, I need not make
mention. They all had friends, who joyfully came forward to receive
them. The cruel cords which had bound Aveline's ankles and wrists to
the stake had so hurt her that she could with difficulty walk. A'Dale
and I were about to lead her off, though she was in a sad plight to pass
through the streets, when a female in the crowd stepped forward, and, in
a gentle voice, begged that her servants might be allowed to carry her.

"I have a hand-litter close by; she is not fit to be taken to her home
in any other way."

We were