[LinuxSSN-devel] Ter welcome than the cold, and

[Centrich K. <scu...@sc...>]

Ewell! farewell! until

we meet again, where there shall
be no sorrow, no care, no pain--only mercy and forgiveness!" "No, no--thou shalt not die!" screamed the cripple, whom several bystanders, as well as guards, now held back with force, in awe as well as pity at his distracted state.--"Thou shalt not die! She is my mother!"
he cried like a maniac to the crowd around. "My mother--do ye hear? She is innocent. What I said yesterday was false--utterly
false--a
damning lie! She is not guilty--you would murder her!
Fools! wretches, assassins! You believed me when I witnessed against her; why will ye not believe me now? She is innocent,

I tell you. Ye shall not kill her!" "He is bewitched! he is bewitched! To the stake with the sorceress!--to

the stake!" was the
only reply returned to his cries

by the crowd. In truth the miserable man bore all the outward signs of a person who, in those times, might be supposed to be smitten by the spells of witchcraft. His eyes rolled in his head. His every feature was distorted

in the agony of his passion. His mouth foamed like that of a mad dog. His struggles became desperate convulsions. But he struggled in vain. The procession advanced towards the stake. Between two bodies of guards, the condemned woman
dragged her suffering bare feet over the rough stones of the
market-place.
On one side of her walked the executioner of the town; on the other, his assistant, with a lighted torch of tow, besmeared with resin and pitch, shedding
around in a small cloud, the lurid smoke that was soon about to arise in a heavy volume from the pile. The chief _schreiber_

had mounted, with his adjuncts, the terrace before the door of the town-hall,

whence it was customary for the chief dignita