O God of Heaven look down and judge! How shall I tell of the sight
I beheld?
Suddenly I came upon it--mad with my grief, desperate with horror
and despair. I saw the face of the Maid again! I saw her upraised
eyes, and her hands clasped to her breast, holding thereto a rough
wooden cross, whilst someone from below held high in the air a
crucifix taken from some church and fastened upon a long wand.
The pile on which she stood was so high--so high; they said it was
done in mercy, that the rising clouds of smoke might choke her ere
the flame touched her. She was clad in a long white garment from
head to foot; her hair had grown and fell about and back from her
face in a soft cloud gilded by the sun's rays. Her face was
rapt--smiling--yes, I will swear it--smiling, as a child smiles up
into the face of its father.
There was an awful hush throughout the wide place. Everything
reeled and swam before me; but I saw that face--that serene and
smiling face, wan and pale, but tranquil and glad and triumphant.
Then came the rush of smoke, and the glare of ruddy fire.
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