tered," she answered.

Master Gresham turned pale when he heard her speak, for he recognised
the features of one he had seen but a short time before. At that moment
the little boy, who had been eagerly watching the scene, uttered a loud
shriek.

"Oh! my father! my dear mother!" he cried out; "let me go to them--let
me go to save them!"

With difficulty the groom held him on his horse, for he struggled
desperately to be free. "There's kind Bertha, my nurse; and honest,
good Gunter too! Let me go, I say, that I may help them!"

The English party were too far off to allow those on the stage to
observe them. Even the servants refused to recant, though promised
their lives and liberty if they would do so.

Karl Van Verner and his wife were led down from the platform by the
steps towards the two stakes, which stood close to each other. And now
the members of the brotherhood on whom had been imposed the sad office
of executing the victims, rushed forward with faggots, which they piled
up round them. Two professional executioners, who had been summoned for
the purpose, secured the victims by the chains to the stakes. While
fire was set to the piles, the members of the brotherhood burst forth
into a melancholy _miserere_, which rose up even above the groans and
sighs of the people.

Master Gresham ordered his attendants to try and force their way out of
the crowd. At length, many persons, unwilling to witness the suffering
of the victims, retired along the various streets leading into the Mere,
thus giving an opportunity to the English party to retreat. Once more
the young boy cast a terrified glance towards the horrible spectacle,
when the groom, in mercy, throwing a cloak round his head, pushed on
through the crowd, the whole party making their way as rapidly as they
could towards the royal merchant's residence.

For days, for months, for years even, did that dreadful spectacle occur
again and again to the mind of the child. Thus perished his parents,
with their two faithful attendants, their only crime that of reading
God's Word, singing His praises, and holding together family prayer.

Theirs was no solitary fate. Every week, every day almost, victims were
offered up to the papal Moloch by those who thus hoped to stamp out the
very existence of Protestantism from the land. Vain efforts! The seed
of religious truth, scattered far and wide, was springing up and bearing
fruit--sometimes bitter enough, it m