ith him!--off with him! You see there is no use discussing
matters with a heretic," exclaimed some of the other magistrates.

The other prisoners were now tried. Two or three only of them, were,
however, committed to prison, the others acknowledging themselves in
error. Of these, however, several as they went away muttered words
complimentary neither to their judges nor to the Pope and his cardinals.

Moretz, with several other prisoners, was marched off under a strong
guard to the prison. It was a dark, old, gloomy building, which had
been a castle, but having been partly dismantled, had been fitted up
again for its present purpose. It contained several long passages, both
above ground and under ground, leading to arched cells with strong oak
doors plated with iron.

Into one of these dungeons Moretz was now thrust. There he was left in
solitude. There was but little light, but he discovered a heap of straw
in one corner, on which he sat himself down. "Well," he thought, "other
people have been shut up in prison cells worse than this, and Christians
too." And then he thought of Paul and Silas in the prison at Philippi,
and how they had spent their time in praying and singing praises to God.
"That is just what I ought to do," he said to himself; but he did not
pray so much for himself as for his dear little Meta and Karl, that God
would take care of them, and deliver him in His own good time, if it was
His will to do so. Then he began to sing, for Spena had left a book of
hymns, the words of several of which he had already learned by heart.
"The feet of Paul and Silas were in the stocks," he said to himself,
"then surely I am better off than they were; I ought to praise God for
that;" and so he sang on right cheerfully. However, not being
accustomed to sit long, he soon got up and walked about his cell. He
could make but few paces without turning. A gleam of light came through
an aperture in the upper part of the wall. "I am not much below ground,
at all events," he observed; and it set him thinking, always lifting up
his heart in prayer to God.

CHAPTER FIVE.

Meanwhile Karl had returned home with the donkeys. Poor Meta was
greatly grieved and alarmed when she heard the sad news. "Those cruel
men will be killing dear grandfather, as they killed John Huss," she
said, looking with tearful eyes at Karl. "We can pray for him, however,
that is one comfort."

They did not fail to do as Meta said; n