he clattering of spurs was heard at the door, which was immediately
thrown open, and the captain entered the room, accompanied by a file of
soldiers.

'I am now satisfied!' cried he. 'I have subjected your cook to a sharp
examination. You have more food prepared daily than is necessary for
the family. Dishes are secretly conveyed away full and returned empty.
I am therefore satisfied that your relatives have not departed; but are
yet in the city, perhaps in this very house, and my duty requires me to
insist on their immediate appearance, that they may become participants
in the reformation which we bring to this deluded city.'

'I have nothing more to answer upon that subject,' said Katharine with
firmness.

'No?' asked the captain, grating his teeth. 'Will you bring me a
certificate of confession?'

'Not to all is given such greatness of mind as to enable them to change
their faith according to the emergencies of the moment,' said
Katharine, with a bitterness which the unworthiness of the tempter
forced from her naturally mild heart.

'Still scornful!' growled the captain. 'The cup now runs over. To the
cellar with this brood of young heretics!' thundered he to his
soldiers, who immediately forced the children from the room. 'My
children!' shrieked Katharine, making an effort to rush after them; but
the captain dragged the unhappy mother back.

'The sands of mercy have run out,' he exclaimed; 'and the hour of
vengeance approaches. It is now no longer question of the runaway girl.
I have torn from my heart my sinful passion for the heretic, and have
to do only with you and your heterodoxy. I give you an hour to consider
whether you will return to the bosom of the mother church. If you then
obstinately choose to adhere to your erroneous belief, I will probe
your breast yet deeper, and by all the saints I swear to you that I
will find your heart.'

He left the room. 'Preserve me from desperation, O God!' cried
Katharine, pressing her infant to her bosom and sinking powerless to
the earth.

CHAPTER X.

When she awoke she was sitting in a chair with her slumbering babe in
her arms, and before her stood, with weeping eyes, an old Franciscan
monk belonging to the city convent, upon whom she stared with wondering
and uncertain glances.

'Calm yourself, dear lady,' said the old man in a friendly tone. 'The
cowl I wear may be doubly hateful to you in this heavy hour; but it
co