"The crimes of Helene, Princess of Plassenburg, sole daughter of Dietrich, lately Prince thereof—guilty of no evil, save that she has been the savior of this people of Thorn and their deliverer in time of pestilence!"
The people hushed themselves with astonishment at my words. And then a cry went up.
"The Red Axe speaks true—she is innocent—innocent!"
But the voice of Gerard von Sturm came again, stern as that of the recording angel:
"Executioner of the Wolfmark, do your duty!"
Scarce knowing what I did, I went on with my formal accusation.
"Helene, Princess of Plassenburg, who is about to die, is also guilty of loving me, Hugo Gottfried, son of Gottfried Gottfried, and of none other crime. For this the Duke has decreed that she should die. It is her own will that she should die by my hand."
Helene came forward and put her hand in mine in token that I spoke truly, and there fell a great silence across the people. I saw the Lady Ysolinde straining at her father's hand, like a dog in a leash when the quarry rises.
Then my love kissed me once, just as though she had been saying good-night in the Red Tower, simply and sweetly, like a child, and laid her head down on the block as on the white pillow of her own bed.
"God do so and more also to them on whose heads is the innocent blood of my love and my wife!"