uttered not a word, she made not a movement till summoned to return
to her cell.

The 26th of September, 1568, at length arrived. Ere the dawn had broken
in the outer world she rose from her hard pallet. Yet, hard as it was,
her slumber had been calm and sweet. She knew not that it was her last
day on earth. Kneeling, she lifted up her hands in prayer. She prayed
for her persecutors. She prayed that the day-star might yet arise over
Spain, and the Gospel be preached throughout the length and breadth of
the land.

The door opened. A harsh voice ordered her to rise from her knees;
prayer was not for one whom the Church had excommunicated. She obeyed.
A monk, with a savage gleam in his eyes, stood before her. At the door
were several familiars.

The monk's errand was soon told. He had come to conduct her to the
courtyard where the victims destined to appear in the _auto-da-fe_ were
collecting. The cruelties, the mockeries, the blasphemies of those
hideous spectacles have often been described. All, all, Leonor endured,
not only with patience and courage, but with a rejoicing heart. Calm
and unmoved she listened to the long sermon poured forth by the Bishop
of Zamora, who, from a lofty pulpit, addressed himself both to the
victims and the populace.

When the blasphemous ceremonies were brought to a conclusion, joy
lighted up her countenance. Firmly she walked to the place of
execution, and submitted without a murmur to be bound to the stake. The
moment she had longed for had arrived! The flames rose up around her,
and her emancipated spirit flew to rejoin her beloved husband, and to be
for ever with their Lord.

THE END.

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Last Look, by W.H.G. Kingston

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