oth, my lord bishops, who
are they that are led to the stake to-day? Who are the condemned?"

"They are heretics, who devote themselves to this new false doctrine
which has come over to us from Germany, and who dare refuse to recognize
the spiritual supremacy of our lord and king," said Bishop Gardiner.

"They are Roman Catholics, who regard the Pope of Rome as the chief
shepherd of the Church of Christ, and will regard nobody but him as
their lord," said Bishop Cranmer.

"Ah, behold this young maiden accuses us of injustice," cried the king;
"and yet, you say that not heretics alone are executed down there,
but also Romanists. It appears to me then that we have justly and
impartially, as always, punished only criminals and given over the
guilty to justice."

"Oh, had you seen what I have seen," said Anne Askew, shuddering, "then
would you collect all your vital energies for a single cry, for a single
word--mercy! and that word would you shout out loud enough to reach yon
frightful place of torture and horror."

"What saw you, then?" asked the king, smiling. Anne Askew had stood up,
and her tall, slender form now lifted itself, like a lily, between the
sombre forms of the bishops. Her eye was fixed and glaring; her noble
and delicate features bore the expression of horror and dread.

"I saw," said she, "a woman whom they were leading to execution. Not a
criminal, but a noble lady, whose proud and lofty heart never harbored
a thought of treason or disloyalty, but who, true to her faith and her
convictions, would not forswear the God whom she served. As she passed
through the crowd, it seemed as if a halo encompassed her head, and
covered her white hair with silvery rays; all bowed before her, and the
hardest natures wept over the unfortunate woman who had lived more than
seventy years, and yet was not allowed to die in her bed, but was to
be slaughtered to the glory of God and of the king. But she smiled, and
graciously saluting the weeping and sobbing multitude, she advanced to
the scaffold as if she were ascending a throne to receive the homage of
her people. Two years of imprisonment had blanched her cheek, but had
not been able to destroy the fire of her eye, or the strength of her
mind, and seventy years had not bowed her neck or broken her spirit.
Proud and firm, she mounted the steps of the scaffold, and once more
saluted the people and cried aloud, 'I will pray to God for you.' But as
the headsman approache