me to the
prisoner, for unless he is brought to the truth very soon, it seems
probable that he will be sent to the stake."

The jailer on this called one of the warders, and directed him to lead
me to the English minister's cell, and on no account to interrupt us.
By the glance the warder gave me, I hoped that he had already been
bribed by old Dame Trond, and that he would not interfere with our
proceedings. I therefore followed him with a light step, passing
through numerous passages to the room in which the prisoner was
confined. The house had been hurriedly fitted up as a prison, the lofty
rooms being divided into two storeys, and each room being again
subdivided by passages into cages, rather than cells, so that the
prisoners could be confined separately from each other. Many of them
had very little light, and still less air; and, as far as I could judge,
every cell almost had an occupant. It was fearful to contemplate what
would be the probable fate of all those human beings, for it was
well-known that of those imprisoned but a very small number escaped
death.

"I conclude that Father Peter is already with the prisoner," I observed,
as I walked along.

The man glanced quickly round at me.

I showed him a gold piece in my hand. He immediately put out his to
receive it, nodding at the same time.

"There," he said at length, as we reached the door of the cell; "I need
not look in, for I should not like to interrupt Father Peter, should he
be at his devotions with the poor heretic. Go in, and may you have
success in your undertaking."

I observed that when he shut the door he did not again lock it or push
to the bolts. The minister was seated with his back to the door when I
entered. When at length he discovered that there was somebody in the
cell, he rose from his seat, and, turning round, confronted me.

"I regret, sir, that you should have come," he said, in a courteous
voice. "You perhaps wish to make known to me the articles of your
faith; but let me say in return that I know them thoroughly, and have no
wish to embrace those which differ, I conceive, from the teaching of the
Gospel."

"I see you do not know me, Master Overton," I said, in a low voice. "Do
not utter any exclamation of surprise; I have come in the hopes of
liberating you!"

"Who--who is it?" he exclaimed, in an undertone. "Ernst Verner? No,
indeed, I should not have known you. But how do you expect to set me
free?"

"Yo