him,
saw his lips moving once more in prayer.

Then a harsh loud voice from behind the cart began to proclaim that the
Queen punished no man for religion but only for treason. A fierce murmur
of disagreement and protest began to rise from the crowd; and Anthony
turning saw the faces of many near him frowning and pursing their lips,
and there was a shout or two of denial here and there. The harsh voice
ceased, and another began:

"Now, Mr. Campion," it cried, "tell us, What of the Pope? Do you renounce
him?"

Campion opened his eyes and looked round.

"I am a Catholic," he said simply; and closed his eyes again for prayer,
as the voice cried brutally:

"In your Catholicism all treason is contained."

Again a murmur from the crowd.

Then a new voice from the black group of ministers called out:

"Mr. Campion, Mr. Campion, leave that popish stuff, and say, 'Christ have
mercy on me.'"

Again the priest opened his eyes.

"You and I are not one in religion, sir, wherefore I pray you content
yourself. I bar none of prayer, but I only desire them of the household
of faith to pray with me; and in mine agony to say one creed."

Again he closed his eyes.

"_Pater noster qui es in caelis._"...

"Pray in English, pray in English!" shouted a voice from the minister's
group.

Once more the priest opened his eyes; and, in spite of the badgering, his
eyes shone with humour and his mouth broke into smiles, so that a great
sob of pity and love broke from Anthony.

"I will pray to God in a language that both He and I well understand."

"Ask her Grace's forgiveness, Mr. Campion, and pray for her, if you be
her true subject."

"Wherein have I offended her? In this I am innocent. This is my last
speech; in this give me credit--I have and do pray for her."

"Aha! but which queen?--for Elizabeth?"

"Ay, for Elizabeth, your queen and my queen, unto whom I wish a long
quiet reign with all prosperity."

* * * *

There was the crack of a whip, the scuffle of a horse's feet, a rippling
movement over the crowd, and a great murmured roar, like the roar of the
waves on a pebbly beach, as the horse's head began to move forward; and
the priest's figure to sway and stagger on the jolting cart. Anthony shut
his eyes, and the murmur and cries of the crowd grew louder and louder.
Once more the deep sweet voice rang out, loud and penetrating:

"I die a true Catholic...."

Anthony kep