"Then tell me what have you to say; and what is it must be done?"
"I will."
"But stop; before you say one word, answer me one question as you hope for bliss. Have you heard aught of Philip?"
"Yes, I have. He is well."
"And where is he?"
"He will soon be here."
"G.o.d, I thank thee! shall I see him, father?"
"That must depend upon yourself."
"Upon myself? Then tell me, quickly, what would they have me do?"
"Confess your sins--your crimes."
"What sins?--what crimes?"
"Have you not dealt with evil beings, invoked the spirits, and gained the a.s.sistance of those who are not of this world?"
Amine made no reply.
"Answer me. Do you not confess?"
"I do not confess to have done anything wrong."
"This is useless. You were seen by me and others. What will avail your denial? Are you aware of the punishment which most surely awaits you, if you do not confess, and become a member of our Church?"
"Why am I to become a member of your Church? Do you then punish those who refuse?"
"No; had you not already consented to receive baptism, you would not have been asked to become so; but, having been baptised, you must now become a member, or be supposed to fall back into heresy."
"I knew not the nature of your baptism at that time."
"Granted; but you consented to it."
"Be it so. But pray, what may be the punishment, if I refuse?"
"You will be burnt alive at the stake; nothing can save you. Hear me, Amine Vanderdecken: when next summoned, you must confess all; and, asking pardon, request to be received into the Church; then will you be saved, and you will--"
"What?"
"Again be clasped in Philip's arms."
"My Philip--my Philip!--you indeed press me hard; but, father, if I confess I am wrong, when I feel that I am not--"
"Feel that you are not!"
"Yes. I invoked my mother's a.s.sistance; she gave it me in a dream.
Would a mother have a.s.sisted her daughter if it were wrong?"
"It was not your mother, but a fiend who took the likeness."
"It was my mother. Again you ask me to say that I believe that which I cannot."
"That which you cannot! Amine Vanderdecken, be not obstinate."
"I am not obstinate, good father. Have you not offered me what is to me beyond all price, that I should again be in the arms of my husband? Can I degrade myself to a lie?--not for life, or liberty, or even for my Philip."
"Amine Vanderdecken, if you will confess your crime before you are accused, you will have done much; after your accusation has been made, it will be of little avail."
"It will not be done, either before or after, father. What I have done I have done, but a crime it is not to me and mine--with you it may be, but I am not of yours."
"Recollect also that you peril your husband, for having wedded with a sorceress. Forget not; to-morrow I will see you again."
"My mind is troubled," replied Amine. "Leave me, father, it will be a kindness."
Father Mathias quitted the cell, pleased with the last words of Amine.
The idea of her husband's danger seemed to have startled her.
Amine threw herself down on the mattress in the corner of the cell, and hid her face.
"Burnt alive!" exclaimed she after a time, sitting up and pa.s.sing her hands over her forehead. "Burnt alive! and these are Christians. This, then was the cruel death foretold by that creature, Schriften-- foretold--yes, and therefore must be--it is my destiny--I cannot save myself. If I confess then, I confess that Philip is wedded to a sorceress, and he will be punished too. No, never--never; I can suffer; 'tis cruel--'tis horrible to think of,--but 'twill soon be over. G.o.d of my fathers, give me strength against these wicked men, and enable me to hear all, for my dear Philip's sake."
The next evening, Father Mathias again made his appearance. He found Amine calm and collected: she refused to listen to his advice or follow his injunctions. His last observation, that "her husband would be in peril if she was found guilty of sorcery," had steeled her heart, and she had determined that neither torture nor the stake should make her confess the act. The priest left the cell, sick at heart; he now felt miserable at the idea of Amine's perishing by so dreadful a death; accused himself of precipitation, and wished that he had never seen Amine, whose constancy and courage, although in error, excited his admiration and his pity. And then he thought of Philip, who had treated him so kindly--how could he meet him? And if he asked for his wife, what answer could he give?
Another fortnight pa.s.sed, when Amine was again summoned to the Hall of Judgment, and again asked if she confessed her crimes. Upon her refusal, the accusations against her were read. She was accused by Father Mathias with practising forbidden arts, and the depositions of the boy Pedro and the other witnesses were read. In his zeal, Father Mathias also stated that he had found her guilty of the same practices at Terneuse; and, moreover, that in the violent storm, when all expected to perish, she had remained calm and courageous and told the captain that they would be saved; which could only have been known by an undue spirit of prophecy, given by evil spirits. Amine's lip curled in derision when she heard the last accusation. She was asked if she had any defence to make.
"What defence can be offered," replied she, "to such accusations as these? Witness the last--because I was not so craven as the Christians, I am accused of sorcery. The old dotard! but I will expose him. Tell me, if one knows that sorcery is used, and conceals or allows it, is he not a partic.i.p.ator and equally guilty?"
"He is," replied the Inquisitor, anxiously awaiting the result.
"Then I denounce--" and Amine was about to reveal that Philip's mission was known, and not forbidden by Fathers Mathias and Seysen; when, recollecting that Philip would be implicated, she stopped.
"Denounce whom?" inquired the Inquisitor.
"No one," replied Amine, folding her arms and dropping her head.
"Speak, woman!"
Amine made no answer.
"The torture will make you speak."
"Never!" replied Amine. "Never! Torture me to death, if you choose; I prefer it to a public execution!"