Tales from the German. Volume II.

by C. F. van der Velde

CHAPTER I.

It was on a fine morning in February of the year 1534, that the journeyman armorer, Alf Kippenbrock, proceeded from Coesfeld toward the free imperial city of Munster. Already had he left Baumberg and Stestendorp behind--Saint Lambert's tower stretched high its gigantic head at the edge of the distant horizon,--and the fruitful plain, in which venerable old Munster is situated, gradually spread itself out before the wanderer with its other towers and churches peeping from the broad level,--while the bright silver of the distant and beautiful river Aa glistened in the rays of the morning sun.

Alf stopped at a stone cross which stood by the road side,--and while a deeper red suffused his blooming cheeks, and his pious eyes sparkled with enthusiasm at the sight of the ancient episcopal seat, he took off his hat and swung it toward the city for joy.

'God bless thee, dear native city!' he rapturously exclaimed; 'it is long since we parted--and I now look in vain for my good old parents, who, seven years ago, accompanied me as far as this cross. Nevertheless thou appearest kind and friendly, and ready to offer me a hearty welcome. Ah, nothing is dearer to man than his native home; thank God I have again found mine, and in it that true and genuine faith in which I hope to live, and, one day, happily die.'

He then replaced his hat and walked briskly in the direction of St. Lambert's tower. At that moment the morning breeze brought suddenly the sound of the many voiced bells to the youth's ear, while an immense cloud of vapor rolled up in the well known region of St. Mauritius's cloisters. 'Holy God! some terrible misfortune has happened!' exclaimed Alf, redoubling his pace. At the same time he saw an immense multitude of people running toward him from the city. The nearer they approached the more distinctly he discerned the motly combination of the crowd that came gushing forth on foot, on horseback and in carriages. It had the appearance of a formal national migration. Judges and clergymen, patricians and plebeians, the old and the infirm, women and children, indiscriminately mingled with various kinds of property apparently collected in the haste incidental to a sudden conflagration, packed up and borne along with them, successively and rapidly passed the wanderer. The men in a state of great excitement conversing eagerly with each other, the women weeping, and the children crying, they moved on in a seemingly endless procession.

Alf, transfixed with surprise and astonishment, and resting on his walking staff with his heavy knapsack on his hack, stood gazing upon the passing multitude. All had finally passed except one old burgher who toiled singly on after the crowd, panting for breath. Alf stopped him in the way and said, 'by your leave father, what means this general flight? Is Munster beset by hostile armies?'

'Alas, worse than that,' answered the graybeard, wiping his eyes, 'the anabaptists have become masters of the city this fearful night, and are driving before them all who do not belong to their sect, sword in hand.'

'God be praised!' cried Alf with wild enthusiasm, 'the true faith is triumphant!'

The burgher cast upon the youngster an angry and scornful look. 'Folly may be forgiven to rash, inexperienced and imprudent youth,' said he, 'yet you may nevertheless be compelled to answer to the Lord for this horrible praise of his name.'

He then turned his back upon the youth and strode on after the procession. Alf no longer felt the weight of his knapsack, but sprang forward toward Munster with joyful leaps. He soon, however, encountered a new mass of fugitives, among whom he could not easily penetrate--and the dust raised by people, cattle, horses and carriages, becoming insufferable, Alf retreated into a solitary inn by the way side, until the tumult had passed away.

As he laid down his knapsack in the tap room and called for a cup of wine, the door opened and in tottered a pale thin man in a long black clerical robe. He was followed by a light dashing fellow with the countenance of a satyr, who carried his bundle for him.

'I can go no further,' groaned the pale man, sinking down upon the nearest seat.

'Now, doctor, you are for the present indeed in safety,' said his attendant to him, depositing the bundle upon the stove-bench. 'Permit me to take a refreshing draught, and then to bid you farewell.'

'Thou dost not wish, then, to go to the good Hessenland, my son?' asked the doctor, sorrowfully.

'No,' answered the youth, 'but do not consider me unkind. I return to Munster. New governors will require new clothes, because much of the dignity of office consists in the dress. My needle will not be permitted to remain idle there, and I shall make great profits. Moreover the doctrine of liberty and equality was plain to me from the beginning; and if the good people would not come so easily to blows, nothing could be said against it.'

'I thought you held fast to the ancient faith,' said the doctor complainingly, 'since you sustained me so truly.'

'No,' laughingly replied the hare-brained youth. 'I held to you while you benefitted me; and on that account I could not reconcile it to myself to desert you in your hour of need. Now you are in safety; and I must return to the only place where fellows like myself are held in some degree of estimation; in any other I might remain all my life a wandering ragamuffin.'

'One deception less,' sighed the doctor sinking into gloomy meditation, when the host entered with a mug of wine for Alf. When he perceived the doctor the mug fell, and, clasping his hands over his head, he cried: 'Holy God! are you also driven away, reverend sir?'

'The true shepherds must first be driven away,' said the doctor with a melancholy smile, 'when the wolf desires undisturbedly to break into the unfortunate fold. Nevertheless I may congratulate myself that I held out until the last moment, and only yielded to open violence.'

'How was that possible in so short a time, doctor?' asked the host. 'The adherents of the Augsburg confession were certainly very powerful as yet, in the city, as the papists also were.'

'The terrible Matthias,' replied the doctor, 'had sent circulars through the neighborhood and collected all the anabaptists at Munster. Consequently, all the low rabble, who had nothing at home to lose, rushed into the poor city, and last night, taking possession of the arsenal and town house, they set fire to the cloisters of Mauritius. They ran, as if possessed, howling through the streets with naked swords, crying, 'Repent and be baptised!' and 'Depart ye Godless!' Neither condition, age, nor sex availed; delicate women, the sick and dying, were all mercilessly thrust out at the gates of their native city unless they would profess the heretical, heathenish worship. The choice between death, flight, and apostacy, only remained, even to me; and as I thought it better to be useful through the preaching of the word to honest christians than through martyrdom in the paws of such raging brutes, I shook the dust from my feet and escaped,--and God must judge.'

'I am very sorry for you,' cried Alf, much agitated: 'because you have such a venerable appearance, and doubtless think yourself truly faithful, though you wander in darkness. Nevertheless, it is a culpable stubbornness in you Lutherans, to struggle so violently against the new doctrines, which have the right and the holy scriptures so clearly on their side. Has not our Lord and Savior expressly commanded his Apostles--'Go ye into all the world and teach all people and baptize them?' So therefore, the teaching must precede the baptism, according to Christ's own words. How dare you, then, presume to baptize new born children who can know nothing of God?'

'What, another anabaptist!' grumbled the host, with a discontented glance at the speaker; and the worthy doctor directed his eyes, full of heartfelt sorrow, upon the youth, and sighed--'Another lamb gone astray from the flock, whom I cannot lead back to the protecting fold. This it is, that makes me sad.'

'You have not answered my question,' said Alf, with the triumph of the controversialist.

'Of what advantage is it to show the way to the blind, who will not see it?' cried the doctor: 'I could answer you, that Christ's apostles could only baptize adults, because those only came over to christianity at first; but that, at a later period, the burning zeal of the great Augustine placed near the heart of the christian fathers the duty of consecrating their children to Christ through the holy baptism into the covenant, and thereby to deliver them from the original sin and impart to them the redemption through Christ, before peradventure they should be snatched away in their tender youth by a premature death. Would to God that this schism was the only one that your companions in your mistaken faith defend with such terrible obstinacy and fierceness. You have yet other dogmas which you advance, sufficient to convert our earth, God's beautiful temple, into a den of murderers. Your community of goods, your equality of rank, your struggle against secular authority, lead directly to lawless confusion, robbery, murder, and unhappy revolution.'

'Even the best opinions may be misconstrued,' replied Alf, angrily. 'The gospel looks upon all men as equal. The distinctions made among them by birth, rank, and wealth, are contrary to its spirit. Christians who possess the doctrines of God as precepts, and take his spirit for their guide, need no power that destroys religious liberty without authority. They are able to govern themselves by the word of God, and the Holy Spirit will always guide them, that they stumble not in the paths in which they are led by their faith.'

'Unhappy, infatuated youth!' cried the doctor, with a majestic prophetic look and tone. 'Go now into the unfortunate city, and behold how the anabaptist spirit has conducted your companions to robbery, incendiarism and murder, in the smoking ruins of the cloister, and in the bleeding bodies which strew the highways! If this horrible spectacle be not enough to move your heart, think of the words which in this sad hour I address to you in the name of that God whom your proceedings profane. These crimes will be but the beginning of your afflictions. Your equality will yet be to you but equality of misery--your community of goods will bring you to beggary. Instead of the magistracy which you now drive away, miscreants will rise up from the midst of you, and with bloody hands rend your own entrails, until the wrath of a long suffering God finally awakes, until the avenger appears, and you all perish in one common ruin.'

'There come horsemen galloping,' cried the doctor's attendant, who was standing at the window with his cup; 'and, if I see rightly, they bear our lord bishop's colors. It might be well for me to go back to the city.'

'The bishop's riders!' sighed the doctor. 'It often happens that the avenger only lingers near; but this time the Lord in his anger has given him wings.'

'The bishop's riders!' cried the host, anxiously: 'May God be merciful to us. Those fellows make no distinctions, but shear both Lutherans and anabaptists over one comb.'

Alf's eyes flashed fire at this; he drew from his portmanteau a large, two edged dirk-knife, screwed it upon his walking stick, and placed himself in a defensive attitude.

Meanwhile the horsemen had stalked into the inn.

'Here is a whole band of anabaptists collected together,' cried the officer. 'Halters from the horses! we will bind them together in couples.'

'I am the doctor of theology, Theodore Fabricius,' cried the reverend gentleman, with all the dignity of his station; 'driven from Munster by the anabaptists, and am under the special protection of his grace the landgrave of Hesse.'

'Why should we trouble ourselves much about the heretics,' exclaimed the serjeant. 'Don't trifle and spend your time in unnecessary discourse; submit without resistance!' cried another, seizing the poor doctor by the collar.

Then sprang forward Alf, and struck aside the strong hand of the horseman. 'Back!' cried he, holding his dirk-spear before him, 'I will stab the first who touches the old man.'

'That is brave!' cried the host, exultingly; and, armed with a small hatchet, he stationed himself at Alf's side.

'Young man, why do you interfere?' cried the horseman, recoiling. 'Out broadswords!' shouted the officer, and the broad blades were already flashing, when a new trampling of horses drew all eyes to the window, and in an instant a fresh band of horsemen crowded into the room.

'God be praised!' cried Fabricius, with folded hands; 'those are the colors of my lord, the landgrave.'

'What mischief are you episcopalians carrying on here?' angrily asked the captain of the new comers.

'We surely shall not answer to a Hessian concerning that, while standing upon our lord bishop's own ground,' blustered the serjeant. 'With greater right may I ask how you could yourself venture upon our territory with weapons and arms, without escort?'

'Madman!' cried the captain, 'is that the way you speak to your allies? We are sent by our lord to help yours against the rebellious anabaptists. At present I am commanded to the defence of the evangelical preachers, who are compelled to flee from Munster, and I will not permit you to abuse them.'

'If you expect that I shall believe every thing you say upon your mere assertion,' sneeringly answered the bishop's serjeant-major, 'you are for once mistaken. The heretic priest is my prisoner.'

'Contemptible slave of a priest!' thundered the captain, 'when the word of a knight is doubted, he has no other voucher than his good sword;' and drawing forth his blade, he called to his followers, 'strike flat, comrades.'

As if all the furriers of Munster had collected together in the tavern to beat their skins, so clattered the Hessian blades upon the broad backs of the episcopalians in mighty chorus. In a moment the room was cleared, and the Hessians were sitting behind their full jugs, making themselves merry over their easy and bloodless victory.

'Where do you desire to be conducted, reverend doctor?' asked the captain courteously.

'I intend to go direct to Cassel,' answered Fabricius, 'to give an account of my mission to the landgrave. If you will give me a file of horsemen as far as Paderborn, I shall reach my destination without difficulty.'

'With your permission, Mr. Captain,' said the landlord, 'I will myself convey my confessor as far as Paderborn in my little wagon.'

'It is well!' answered the captain, casting a glance upon Alf, who had unscrewed the knife from his staff and was preparing to proceed on his way.

'Who art thou?' he asked in a severe tone.

'An honest journeyman armorer,' answered Alf, boldly, 'who am returning to Munster in search of employment.'

'To Munster?' angrily repeated the captain: 'to that heated furnace where the frantic mob are preparing misery for the country?--and now,--directly? Dost thou belong to them?'

'Shame to him who denies his faith through fear of men,' cried Alf; 'yes, I am an anabaptist.'

'Munster needs no armorer now,' said the captain, with decision; 'sharp weapons are not good for children and drunken men: they injure themselves and others with them. Thou goest with us back to the head quarters at Walbeck.'

'Never!' exclaimed Alf, in wrath, drawing his knife.

'Pardon his imprudence,' entreated Fabricius, stepping between them. 'His spirit is diseased and heavily weighed down; but his heart is better than his mistaken faith. He has hazarded his life in my defence against the episcopalians, regardless of the difference of our creeds. Let him go in freedom.'

'You know not what you ask, doctor,' said the captain, displeased. 'Ought I to permit the rebels to strengthen themselves by the acquisition of such a stout fellow?'

'There are already, alas! a plenty of wicked men,' said Fabricius, 'ferociously raging in the unhappy city. It seems to me it is to be wished, that there should be some good souls among them, who might mitigate many an evil, and prevent many a crime. The whole conduct of this youth convinces me, that his erroneous opinions will not hold out against the misdeeds he will witness, and against the voice of truth in his own heart; and then may even he become a fit instrument in God's cause. Let him go, by my desire.'

'Go then,' impatiently cried the captain, returning to the drinking table.

'God reward thee,' said Alf, with deep feeling, and pressing the hand of Fabricius to his bosom; 'thou hast saved me from murder.'

'The Lord enlighten thee!' said Fabricius, laying his hands upon the youth's head for a farewell blessing, 'so that we may one day joyfully meet again.'

'Yon say that with great confidence, sir,' cried Alf, perplexedly, 'as if the error were certainly upon our side. I firmly believe it to be upon yours. For God's sake, then, which of us two is right in these dreadful contentions?'

'If that doubt itself do not already tell thee, my son,' said Fabricius, in a friendly manner, 'only submit the new belief to the touchstone of thy reason and thy honest heart--bring it to the test of the holy scriptures,--seek the truth with diligence and thou shalt find it.'

'No, no!' cried Alf, in the wild conflict of his soul. 'The holy spirit, that spoke by our prophets, cannot err. Satan himself must have whispered the wicked doubt to me: I reject and cast it from me, as, according to God's commandment, I ought the eye that offends me. I am, here, yet within the confines of anti-christ, and his power darkens my vision. Wherefore, forward to the realm of light! Up, toward the holy Zion!'

As if beside himself, the enthusiast strode out of the house, the worthy Fabricius with saddened looks, watching his retreating form.

Alf was already advancing toward the city with vigorous strides, when he heard some one calling behind, and the nimble tailor came running after him. 'Take me with you, compatriot,' begged he: 'I have taken my leave of the worthy doctor, and would willingly return to the city in good company.'

'Where were you during the first part of the fight?' asked Alf of him.

'Behind the stove, dear compatriot,' laughingly confessed the tailor; 'and when it began between the Hessians and the episcopalians, I crawled under the stove, lest perhaps both parties might take me for an enemy, and I thus receive a double portion of blows.'

'For shame,' said Alf, scornfully.

'What is there in that to be ashamed of?' babbled the tailor. 'Let each honor his profession. An armorer, with legs and arms to his body, as you have, by the grace of God, must hammer upon his enemies as he would upon old iron--it is his duty; but a poor little tailor, like me, has the privilege of running away from such affairs of honor; and I should little grace my fraternity by exhibiting an ill-timed valor in old quarrels.'

'Under such circumstances,' said Alf, 'I cannot understand how your cowardice can suffer you to return to Munster, which just now is very tempestuous and clanging with arms.'

'Why, not a hair of my head can be injured!' triumphantly answered the tailor. 'I am the old boon companion of the second of the prophets who are now very powerful in the government of the city, and they cannot fail me. When once the old order of affairs shall be wholly overturned, I may be clothed with a station of high honor in the new government. For a generalship in the field my stars have certainly not directly designed me; but a chancellorship or treasurership I may fill as well as another.'

'For that must God in his anger have created you,' cried Alf, with indignant laughter.

'Because I am a tailor?' asked the chancellor-in-expectancy, angrily. 'How blind does the pride of your hands make you, friend armorer! Does every thing depend upon strong bones in this world? What was Johannes Bockhold of Leyden, our great prophet, more than a tailor? What does he now appear, and to what will he not hereafter attain! The days and nights have not yet all passed. He has a head for twenty; and when we loitered about together as comedians, while business in our line was dull, then did he play the parts of emperors and kings, and played and ranted in such a manner as to compel respect from all. Give him the world and he will govern it in fine style.'

'A man who plays the buffoon for bread, selected to carry on the work of the spirit in my native city!' sighed Alf, losing himself in sad reflections until they arrived at the closed gates.

Here all was crowded with the busy activity of the burghers. The city walls were repaired and raised,--the ditches were deepened and furnished with palisades,--new bulwarks and towers arose on high,--hammer and trowel, shovel and pickaxe, were in constant motion,--and the dirt carts creaked incessantly. Aged and distinguished men worked unweariedly, like day-laborers; women and children assisted; and the pleasure and satisfaction, with which every thing was accomplished, rendered it very apparent that the most ardent enthusiasm was the soul of this body.

'Do you not perceive,' cried the tailor, gaily slapping Alf's shoulder, 'that the bishop will be compelled to break many a tooth upon our walls before he will be able to eat us up?'

'What does that denote?' asked Alf, disregarding the boast, and pointing to two large stone slabs covered with letters which were hanging upon the gates.

'Those are the commands of our second Moses, of our great Matthias,' replied the tailor, reverently. 'He has caused them to be cut in stone and to be hung thus on all the gates of the city, to keep the people in the fear of God, so that every man may conduct according to them.'

At that moment a confused drumming alarm rattled in the city, and a desolate thrilling cry of the raging populace answered the warlike call; an icy chill diffused itself through every member of Alf's body, as it seemed to him as if the people were roaring for blood.

'The prophets are calling the people together,' said the tailor, dragging Alf forward. 'Come, we must hear what they have to say to us; we belong to the mass, and can give our opinions upon public affairs whenever it may seem good to us.'

They hastened toward the market, where the human tide, as if agitated by the wildest storms, waved to and fro, thundering and roaring.

The thickest crowd was about St. Lambert's church, and the mass, armed with clubs and spears and muskets, seemed here to form a large circle, from the centre of which a single commanding voice occasionally rose above the general bustle of the crowd.

Alf swung himself up to the corner stone of a house near the market, held fast to the iron supporters of a pitch-pan, and looked towards the centre of the circle.

'What do you see,' cried the tailor to him above.

'A stout man,' answered Alf, 'clad in a coarse woolen capote. I can scarcely see his face through his disheveled hair and bushy beard. He poises a stout spear over a vigorous burgher who is kneeling before him.'

'That is our great Matthias,' exclaimed the tailor.

A fresh multitude at that instant came up and pulled Alf down from his corner stone. The tailor held on with all his might to prevent being borne away by the crowd, and grumbled, 'it is very wrong that one should be hindered by the crowd from seeing what the people do in their sovereign judicial capacity.'

'Thank God! I find one acquaintance here at least!' exclaimed a pale girl, tremblingly seizing the hand of the tailor. 'If you have the heart of a man, my good fellow, help us out of this great difficulty. You have much influence with Johannes Bockhold, the prophet; beg of him, therefore, mercy for my poor uncle!'

'For your uncle, mademoiselle Clara?' inquired he with astonishment. 'What has happened to the worthy master Trutlinger?'

'Trutlinger, Hubert Trutlinger, the armorer?' exclaimed Alf, in great agitation; 'my good old master? What has happened to him?'

'Alas, they have dragged him before the tribunal of the people!' complained the weeping girl; 'he is said to have spoken evil of the prophets.'

'That is a bad case,' said the tailor, 'and in such an unpleasant predicament there is not much to be hoped from any interference.'

'But you must attempt that possibility,' said Alf, 'of serving the upright man and this loving child.'

There fell a shot in the midst of the circle, which was directly followed by a horrible cry from the thousand voiced multitude. 'God! what was that?' exclaimed the girl, aghast. 'I fear my intercession comes too late,' said the tailor dubiously. At that moment the circle opened and the doomed one was brought forth, borne in mournful silence upon the halberds of several burghers. The blood was streaming from a spear wound in his side, and from a reeking shot wound in his breast; yet the unhappy man was not dead, but breathed, although with infinite pain, and had his eyes directed imploringly toward heaven. 'Not even to be able to die,' groaned he. 'Thou punishest heavily my foolishness, O God!'

'Be satisfied unhappy man,' exclaimed the terrible prophet, who had followed him. 'Heaven has revealed to me that the hour of thy death has not yet come. God has determined to show thee mercy. Convey him to his dwelling,' said he to the bearers, 'so that he may be taken care of by his own family. The Lord desires not the death of sinners, but that they should be converted and live.'

'Bear me forward quickly,' begged the dying man to those who were carrying him. 'These bible-sayings cut me to the heart,--for, out of his mouth, they sound to me like a blaspheming of God.'

They bore him toward his house. Alf tremblingly followed the poor Clara, whose eyes were streaming with countless tears, and who on the way vainly sought to check with her handkerchief the flow of blood from the gushing wounds.

At the door of Trutlinger's house the sad train was received by a beauteous maiden. Around her noble, blooming face, floated in profusion the rich curls of her dark locks. The fire of her black eyes, increased by enthusiasm, pierced deep into the heart. Her high forehead, her finely arched nose, her slender and majestic figure, imparted to her whole appearance something queenlike, which even her burgher garb, (in consequence of the strictness of the new belief deprived of every ornament) could not counteract. When she perceived the situation of her unhappy uncle, she wrung her white hands, tears burst from her eyes, which in the bitterness of her grief were raised to heaven, and embellished by her sorrow she stood, a weeping Madonna. The meek, unassuming Clara became wholly eclipsed by her noble figure, at which Alf stood gazing with true devotion. 'For God's sake, what has happened to you, dear uncle?' cried she, accompanying the bearers, who conveyed the sufferer into the nearest lower room and there laid him upon a bed.

'He has practised continual mocking of the holy mission of our prophets,' answered one of the bearers, 'and the prophet Matthias has judged him before the congregation.'

'God be merciful to his poor soul!' murmured the departing populace, and Alf was left alone with the maidens and the dying man.

'How came your senses so entirely to desert you, my poor uncle, as to permit you to fall into so heavy a sin?' moaned the beauteous girl, who was bandaging his wounds with the quiet sorrowful Clara.

'Be silent, simpleton!' angrily replied the old man with his remaining strength. 'My senses have indeed deserted me; but only with the lying spirit of the wicked wretches whom in my madness I held for God's prophets. With my gushing blood departs the delusion which perhaps has cost me my salvation, and I perceive with horror that my poor native city, led astray by crafty imposters, is on the way to ruin for time and eternity.'

'Gracious heavens! he already repeats his offences,' sobbed the gentle maiden. 'We are not alone, uncle,' Clara reminded him in a voice of gentle entreaty.

Trutlinger, raising his weary eyes toward the youth, remained fixedly considering him for a long time; and, as if he finally recollected him, a smile dawned upon his face, which his sufferings chased away. 'If I see rightly,' said he faintly, 'that is a good old acquaintance, before whom no precaution or constraint is necessary. Do I mistake, comrade? Are you not my former faithful apprentice, Alf Kippenbrock?'

'I am the same, my worthy master,' said Alf, approaching and taking his hand, while his tears flowed more mildly.

'This is the finger of God!' exclaimed Trutlinger, and a feeble light relumed his eyes. 'These girls are orphans--their last protector goes to the grave in me. The thought that I must leave their inexperienced youth behind me without protection in this den of murderers, renders my death most afflicting. You were always a good and capable man, Kippenbrock. Promise, then, to your dying master, with the hand and word of a man, that you will shelter and protect these poor children according to the best of your ability.'

Alf cast a friendly glance upon the protegés confided to him. The dark-haired young maiden gleamed upon him with a burning glance, while Clara timidly cast her blue eyes upon the ground. The heart of the youth swelled. He quickly pressed Trutlinger's cold hand and cried, 'I promise it.'

'God reward thee!' faintly uttered the hoary man, his head sank hack and his lacerated breast labored with the death-struggle. Yet once more he suddenly opened his eyes. All radiant were they raised toward heaven. 'Yes,' cried he aloud and joyfully,--'yes, thou hast forgiven the son of earth his errors! I see thy brightness!'--and he was no more.

'Lord, deal not with him in judgment!' prayed the enthusiastic young woman, with pious zeal.

'My second father!' cried Clara, mildly weeping, and, bending down over the dead body, she softly kissed his pale lips.

'No,' cried Alf, with angry grief, 'this sentence was not pronounced and executed in accordance with thy will, Spirit of Mercy!'