had all learned to
do.

"I cannot forswear my faith. I am one of Christ's children. Let me go to
Him!" she said, being willing to depart, which she held to be far
better.

"Back with her into the water!" cried Lag. "The sooner she will win to
hell! 'Tis too good for a rebel like her!"

But Coltran said, "Ye are fair to see, Margaret, lass. Think weel,
hinny! Hae ye nane that ye love?"

But she answered him not a word, being like one other before her, like a
lamb led to the slaughter.

So they tied her again to the stake, where the water was deeper now and
lappered on her breast, swirling yellow and foul in oily bubbles.

Her great head coverture of hair--which, had I been her lad, I should
have delighted to touch and stroke--now broke from the maiden's snood,
and fell into the water. There it floated, making a fair golden shining
in the grimy tide, like the halo which is about the sun when he rises.
Also her face was as the face of an angel, being turned upward to God.

Then they began to drive the folk from the sands for fear of what they
might see--the beauty of the dying maid, and go mad with anger at the
sight.

Whereupon, being in extremity, she lifted her voice to sing, calm as
though it had been an ordinary Sabbath morning, and she leading the
worship at Glen Vernock, as indeed she did very well.

It was the twenty-fifth Psalm she sang, as followeth. And when she that
was a pure maid sang of her sins, it went to my heart, thinking on my
own greater need.

"My sins and faults of youth
Do Thou, O Lord, forget;
After Thy mercies think on me,
And for Thy goodness great."

It was a sweet voice and carried far. But lest it should move the hearts
of the people, Lag garred beat the drum. And as the drums began to roll,
I saw the first salt wave touch the bonny maiden lips which no man had
kissed in the way of love.

Then the guards plucked me by the arm roughly and dragged me away. The
drums waxed still louder. But as we went farther away, the voice of the
maiden praising God out of the floods of great waters, broke through
them, rising clearer, besieging the throne of God and breaking down the
hearts of men. I saw the tears hopping down many a rude soldier's cheek.

Nevertheless, they swore incessantly, cursing Lag and Winram back and
forth, threatening to shoot them for devils thus to kill young maids and
weakly women.

But once again in the pauses of the drums the words of Marga