tside of Brussels, between two Jesuits, followed by a number
of a peculiar kind of monks called love-brothers. Those holy men goaded
her as she went, telling her that she was the devil's carrion, and
calling on her to repent at the last moment, and thus save her life and
escape eternal damnation beside. But the poor soul had no ear for them,
and cried out that, like Stephen, she saw the heavens opening, and the
angels stooping down to conduct her far away from the power of the evil
one. When they came to the hay-field they found the pit already dug, and
the maid-servant was ordered to descend into it. The executioner then
covered her with earth up to the waist, and a last summons was made to
her to renounce her errors. She refused, and then the earth was piled
upon her, and the hangman jumped upon the grave till it was flattened and
firm.

Of all the religious murders done in that hideous sixteenth century in
the Netherlands; the burial of the Antwerp servantmaid was the last and
the worst. The worst, because it was a cynical and deliberate attempt to
revive the demon whose thirst for blood had been at last allayed, and who
had sunk into repose. And it was a spasmodic revival only, for, in the
provinces at least, that demon had finished his work.

Still, on the eastern borders of what was called civilization, Turk and
Christian were contending for the mastery. The great battle of Kovesd had
decided nothing, and the crescent still shone over the fortified and most
important Hungarian stronghold of Raab, within arm's length of Vienna.
How rapidly might that fatal and menacing emblem fill its horns, should
it once be planted on the walls of the Imperial capital! It was not
wonderful that a sincere impatience should be felt by all the frontier
States for the termination of the insurrection of the Netherlands. Would
that rebellious and heretical republic only consent to go out of
existence, again bow its stubborn knee to Philip and the Pope, what a
magnificent campaign might be made against Mahomet! The King of Spain was
the only potentate at all comparable in power to the grand Turk. The King
of France, most warlike of men, desired nothing better, as he avowed,
than to lead his brave nobles into Hungary to smite the unbelievers. Even
Prince Maurice, it was fondly hoped, might be induced to accept a high
command in the united armies of Christendom, and seek for glory by
campaigning, in alliance with Philip; Rudolph, and Henr