alking about so mysteriously. It might be worth
their while to hear.

Dame Zudar began sharpening the knife against the stone ledge of the
castle window.

"I give you three minutes to think it over," she now exclaimed aloud.
"If you then say: let there be bloodshed! bloodshed there shall be."

And with that she turned back to the child.

There she stood in front of the castle threshold, with the heavenly
resignation of a martyr on her pale, innocent face. She appeared to be
quite undisturbed by the dreadful scene before her. The thought that she
was now about to die absorbed all her faculties.

"Kneel down!" cried the virago coldly.

The child took her at her word, and knelt down on the lowest of the
flight of steps.

"Pray, if you have a mind that way."

The child devoutly raised her eyes to Heaven, and holding the lighted
candle in front of her in her tiny hands, began to sing this verse of a
hymn:

"The Lord my God, I praise and bless,
For He hath heard my soul's distress,
And hath inclined His ear to me
Who love Him through eternity."

To many it seemed, while the child's quavering voice was intoning the
sad melody, as if, either from the midst of the crowd, or from some
corner close at hand, a man's voice was accompanying the tone in a
subdued voice, dwelling upon the final notes, as they do in church.

Who could it be?

None could say whence the accompanying voice proceeded.

A cold shudder ran down Dame Zudar's back. It was the voice of the
headsman!

But what a mad idea! Men no longer come forth unhurt from the midst of
the fire, as did the three holy children in the days of Nebuchadnezzar.

So she strengthened her heart, marched up to the door, and began
thundering upon it with her fists.

"The three minutes for consideration is now up. My old enemy and my
young enemy, you must now open the door and come forth."

The crowd waited in hushed suspense for what would come next.

Why did not the people inside fire beneath the sure protection of their
stronghold? What spell had this woman cast over them? Had she really the
power, then, to break through bolts and bars with a mere word, a mere
look?

"One, two, three!"

Still not a sound.

Then the virago, with a haughty look, turned towards the people, and
addressed them with a penetrating voice:

"If they won't speak I will. Friends and comrades, these bigwigs here
have sworn our ruin. They want to root out the whole lot