at thousands have done in Spain--has
simply been to obey our loving Saviour in reading His holy Word, in
striving to carry out His precepts by assembling ourselves together in
prayer, by exhorting and comforting one another. If this be a crime, I
am a criminal; but if not, why imprison us? why torture us? why kill
us?"

She stretched out her hand as she spoke. Her youth and beauty, her
pathetic look, the truth which came from her lips, might have moved
hearts of stone, but nothing could move the demon-inspired minds of the
Inquisitors of Spain--the base instruments of the Pope and his
supporters, Valdes and Philip. They compressed their lips as Leonor
spoke.

"You have disobeyed the Church," answered the Inquisitor, with an
unmoved countenance. "Unless you recant your errors, your punishment is
certain. It may be that you will see the wisdom of so doing, and follow
the example of those you love best. Remove the woman."

So ended the first trial of Leonor de Cisneros. The inquisitors
consulted together how she should be treated. She was evidently not
likely to change her opinions by argument; the Archbishop was unwilling
to have her subjected to torture. He had made up his mind that her
husband must die. He was too clever a heretic, even should he recant,
to be allowed to live. He was not likely ever to recant. But Leonor,
she must be won over; her life must be saved. Notwithstanding her
knowledge of Scripture, the clear declaration she had made of Protestant
principles, the Archbishop did not despair. He had seen many who, firm
at first, had, after a few weeks' solitary confinement and scanty food,
with occasional visits from friends desirous of saving them, completely
recanted, and acknowledged their errors. He knew, too, the subtle
arguments, the system of deception, the threats, the promises, the
various artful methods of proceeding which could be brought to bear on a
prisoner. Should these fail, he had other means in store by which he
hoped to make her give up what he honestly thought her folly. How could
a weak woman venture to set herself up in opposition to the Church?
Many others, to be sure, had ventured to do the same, but few had spoken
as she had done, and several had at sight of the rack recanted, and
given all the information required of them.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

THE STAKE.

It was midnight. Eighteen days had passed since Antonio Herezuelo had
been stretched on the rack. His lac