Seeing this, and anxious to efface the impression, Father Josfrid advanced towards him and said,— “Wretched man, thy last hour is arrived; but there is yet time to save thy soul if thou wilt recant thine heresies, and return to the Church thou hast abandoned, but which is willing to receive thee.” “Hence with thee, tempter!” cried Carver, rising to his feet. “Wert thou to offer me all the riches of the earth, I would not become an idolater.” Thus rebuked, Father Josfrid withdrew, and his place was taken by two rough-looking men, one of whom rudely ordered the prisoner to make ready. Upon this, Carver proceeded to divest himself of a portion of his apparel, and while he was thus employed, several persons among the crowd called out to him for a memorial, upon which he threw his garments amongst them, and they were instantly seized upon by a hundred eager hands, and rent in pieces, the fragments being carefully preserved by those who were fortunate enough to secure them. As he was taking off his doublet, the sacred volume which had been the solace of his long imprisonment, and which he had kept about him to this moment, fell to the ground; seeing which, Captain Brand, who was standing by, picked it up, and with a look of disdain, tossed it into the tar-barrel near the stake. The two rough-looking men, who had remained near the prisoner, now took hold of him, and raising him in their arms, set him within the barrel. Thus disposed, Carver’s first business was to take up the Bible, and after pressing his lips to it, he threw it amidst the crowd. Greatly enraged by the act, Captain Brand called out in a furious voice to the person who had secured the prize to restore it instantly on pain of death, whereupon it was flung back, and was subsequently consigned to the flames. A heavy chain was then passed around Carver’s body and made fast to the stake. Left to himself for a moment, the martyr then called out in a loud voice, “Farewell, dear brethren, farewell! Our Church is encompassed about by deadly enemies, who seek its destruction, and it is for the restoration of that Church that my blood is this day freely poured forth. It will not be shed in vain. Comfort ye amid your troubles, and remain stedfast in your faith! Happier days shall soon dawn upon you. Farewell, O, farewell!” No sooner had he concluded this valediction which was responded to by loud lamentations from the majority of the assemblage, than the men began to heap fagots around him, filling the barrel with dry gorse and brushwood. Before the pile, which was heaped up to his shoulders, could be lighted, the martyr exclaimed, “Blessed are they who die in the Lord. Thrice blessed are they who die in the Lord’s cause. Fear not them that kill the body, for they cannot kill the soul. He that shall lose his life for my sake shall find it, saith our blessed Saviour, in the which hope I now die. Again, dear brethren, I bid you farewell!”