“Then I will go to death holding my head high,” the girl said, valiantly.
“Take her away,” Hildebrand ordered; and at his order Perpetua was borne away in the midst of a guard of soldiers and followed by Hieronymus. “Clear the church.”
The remaining soldiers drove the crowd into the streets.
“Fling the fool on the altar steps. I think he will have a praying fit on him.”
His captors cast Robert roughly on the altar steps, where he lay like one dying.
“Now leave me.”
The two soldiers went out, the sea-door closed, and Hildebrand and Robert were left alone.
Hildebrand went slowly over to where Robert lay and talked mockingly to him.
“How mulish a woman may be! Here is a great country girl, who has never lain soft nor known cheer, never worn silk and never sported a jewel, and yet when great men scuffle for her, she will rather die than serve them and herself. Yes, friend Diogenes, your sweetheart will be burned as a witch.”