How the smoke curled up, half suffocating her at times, and making her hang her head as if dead! Then it was swept away, and the flames rose higher, half hiding the hideously contorted face with a ruddy lurid veil. The flames fluttered and danced, and seemed to Anne as if rejoicing at their task of purifying the earth from the presence of a witch. Then the smoke rose higher, till it formed a heavy canopy above the stake, while the flames played wildly on its lower surface. Again the flames opened to reveal the figure of Mother Goodhugh. She had ceased to curse now, and with blackened, outstretched hands was appealing to her executioners to set her free. As she did so Anne started forward with a wild cry. "It is too horrible--too horrible!" she shrieked. "Father, father, save her before it is too late!" and then, overpowered by the imaginary scene she had conjured up, she tottered a step or two, and sank fainting upon the floor. Volume 3, Chapter XIII. HOW THE WITCH-FAGGOTS WERE FIRED. The scene at the execution was different from that which Anne Beckley painted in her mind. The cart, with its helpless burden, went slowly on, bumping up and down through the ruts of the narrow lane, and the armed escort patiently bore the pressure of the increasing crowd. For every hamlet for ten or fifteen miles round had sent its occupants to see the double show, and every bank and hillock had its gazing faces; while, as the procession drew near to the stake, with its terrible adjuncts, the cart had some difficulty in getting through. The crowd gave way, however, to the escort, who pushed them back till a circle was made about the stake, in the midst of which stood Sir Thomas, Sir Mark, and the armed men. As the cart stopped, Master Peasegood descended, wiping his bare wet forehead, and stood gazing with pallid face as four of the men pressed forward and roughly lifted the condemned woman to the earth. "Be gentle, men, be gentle," he cried, in tones of remonstrance. "It is a woman with whom ye have to deal." "A witch--a foul witch--thou mean'st," said one of the men; and there was a yell of execration from the crowd. "Silence!" roared Master Peasegood, furiously. "Are ye brute beasts, or men, women, and children? Ah, Master Cobbe, are you there?" he cried. "Can nothing be done to save this poor creature here?" "Yes," said the founder, sternly. "I protest against this terrible outrage in our midst, and I call upon you, good people, to help me to stop it." There was a murmur in the crowd that gathered round; but it was the murmur of a hungry beast fearful of being robbed of its prey, and not a hand was raised to help the speaker. "Master Cobbe," cried Sir Mark, sternly, "if thou art not mad, hold thy peace, and let the King's commands be done." "Water, water," gasped the wretched woman, looking appealingly round. "Nay, Jezebel, thou shalt have fire," said Sir Thomas. "It is more purifying than water for such as thou."