resolves upon putting his wife to death by the hands of the public
executioner.)

*****

Two minutes before the clock struck noon, the savage baron was on
the platform to inspect the preparation for the frightful ceremony of
mid-day.

The block was laid forth--the hideous minister of vengeance, masked
and in black, with the flaming glaive in his hand, was ready. The baron
tried the edge of the blade with his finger, and asked the dreadful
swordsman if his hand was sure? A nod was the reply of the man of blood.
The weeping garrison and domestics shuddered and shrank from him. There
was not one there but loved and pitied the gentle lady.

Pale, pale as a stone, she was brought from her dungeon. To all her
lord's savage interrogatories, her reply had been, "I am innocent." To
his threats of death, her answer was, "You are my lord; my life is in
your hands, to take or to give." How few are the wives, in our day, who
show such angelic meekness! It touched all hearts around her, save that
of the implacable Barbazure! Even the Lady Blanche, (Fatima's cousin),
whom he had promised to marry upon his faithless wife's demise, besought
for her kinswoman's life, and a divorce; but Barbazure had vowed her
death.

"Is there no pity, sir?" asked the chaplain who had attended her.

"No pity?" echoed the weeping serving-maid.