gave the signal, and the fires were all lighted at
the same moment. In compliance with the request of the priest, the
executioner had thrown a quantity of wet straw upon Amine's pile, which
threw up a dense smoke before it burst into flames.

"Mother! mother! I come to thee!" were the last words heard from
Amine's lips.

The flames soon raged furiously, ascending high above the top of the
stake to which she had been chained. Gradually they sunk down; and only
when the burning embers covered the ground, a few fragments of bones
hanging on the chain were all that remained of the once peerless and
high-minded Amine.

CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

Years have passed away since we related Amine's sufferings and cruel
death; and now once more we bring Philip Vanderdecken on the scene. And
during this time, where has he been? A lunatic--at one time frantic,
chained, coerced with blows; at others, mild and peaceable. Reason
occasionally appeared to burst out again, as the sun on a cloudy day,
and then it was again obscured. For many years there was one who
watched him carefully, and lived in hope to witness his return to a sane
mind; he watched in sorrow and remorse--he died without his desires
being gratified. This was Father Mathias!

The cottage at Terneuse had long fallen into ruin; for many years it
waited the return of its owners, and at last the heirs-at-law claimed
and recovered the substance of Philip Vanderdecken. Even the fate of
Amine had passed from the recollection of most people; although her
portrait over burning coals, with her crime announced beneath it, still
hangs--as is the custom in the church of the Inquisition--attracting
from its expressive beauty, the attention of the most careless
passers-by.

But many, many years have rolled away--Philip's hair is white--his once
powerful frame is broken down--and he appears much older than he really
is. He is now sane; but his vigour is gone. Weary of life, all he
wishes for is to execute his mission--and then to welcome death.

The relic has never been taken from him: he has been discharged from the
lunatic-asylum, and has been provided with the means of returning to his
country. Alas! he has now no country--no home--nothing in the world to
induce him to remain in it. All he asks is--to do his duty and to die.

The ship was ready to sail for Europe; and Philip Vanderdecken went on
board--hardly caring whither he went. To return to Terneuse was not h