She bids the child watch from the balcony while she, within, proceeds with her incantation. Presently messengers ride hastily up the road, calling upon Helen, and pleading with her for mercy upon the dying man:
“‘But he calls for ever on your name,
Sister Helen,
And says that he melts before a flame.’
‘My heart for his pleasure fared the same,
Little brother.’
(O Mother, Mary Mother,
Fire at the heart, between Hell and Heaven!)”
The contrast between the boy’s innocent, eager reports and observations, and Helen’s bitter, mocking answers, carries with it all the solemn terror of the Greek, and all the mystic naïveté of the mediæval world. At last the unfaithful lover’s aged father, and finally his three days’ bride, arrive to add their entreaties for his life, and the lady falls fainting at Helen’s inhospitable door.
“‘They’ve caught her to Westholm’s saddle-bow,