there was silence.

"He said it--the holy Father Dominic; let him deny it if he can. What?
He does not know me? Perchance not, for time and grief and madness and
hot pincers have changed the face of Vrouw Martha van Muyden, who was
called the Lily of Brussels. Ah! look at him now. He remembers the Lily
of Brussels. He remembers her husband and her son also, for he burned
them. O God, judge between us. O people, deal with that devil as God
shall teach you.

"Who are the others? He who is called Ramiro, the Governor of the
Gevangenhuis, the man who years ago would have thrust me beneath the
ice to drown had not the Vrouw van Goorl bought my life; he who set her
husband, Dirk van Goorl, the man you loved, to starve to death sniffing
the steam of kitchens. O people, deal with that devil as God shall teach
you.

"And the third, the half-Spaniard, the traitor Adrian called van Goorl,
he who has come here to-night to be baptised anew into the bosom of
the Holy Church; he who signed the evidence upon which Dirk was
murdered"--here, again, the roar of hate and rage went up and beat along
the roof--"upon which too his brother Foy was taken to the torture,
whence Red Martin saved him. O people, do with that devil also as God
shall teach you.

"And the fourth, Hague Simon the spy, the man whose hands for years
have smoked with innocent blood; Simon the Butcher--Simon the false
witness----"

"Enough, enough!" roared the crowd. "A rope, a rope; up with him to the
arm of the Rood."

"My friends," cried Arentz, "let the man go. Vengeance is mine, saith
the Lord, and I will repay."

"Yes, but we will give him something on account," shouted a voice in
bitter blasphemy. "Well climbed, Jan, well climbed," and they looked up
to see, sixty feet above their heads, seated upon the arm of the lofty
Rood, a man with a candle bound upon his brow and a coil of rope upon
his back.

"He'll fall," said one.

"Pish!" answered another, "it is steeplejack Jan, who can hang on a wall
like a fly."

"Look out for the ends of the rope," cried the thin voice above, and
down they came.

"Spare me," screamed the wretched priest, as his executioners caught
hold of him.

"Yes, yes, as you spared the Heer Jansen a few months ago."

"It was to save his soul," groaned Dominic.

"Quite so, and now we are going to save yours; your own medicine,
father, your own medicine."

"Spare me, and I will tell you where the others are."

"Well, where are