At the first assault, the soldiers were received with such energetic blows of the rails, that many drew back with bloody heads. But soon the crowd at the gate became so dense that no arm could be lifted, no blow dealt, and a frantic struggle took place between those in front, while those from both sides closed around them and finally pressed them so tightly that no one could move hand or foot, and they expected every minute to be squeezed to death. Here were seen vigorous arms trying in vain to overthrow an enemy; there, broad shoulders exerting themselves to make their way through the crushing mass. Finally the pressure from within became so strong that the foremost ranks of the peasants were thrust aside or thrown down, and about half of the soldiers cleared a way toward the open plain outside the ramparts, while the other half, again penned up, were obliged to remain in the court-yard. Then began a regular battle. They fought with poles and sticks, with whips and fists. Here rained down many a blow which might better have been bestowed on Isolani's Croats; here was performed many a daring exploit which would have been better suited to the battle-fields of Germany. The soldiers, although superior in numbers, were divided by the gate into two detached corps, and soon had the worst of it. Part of them, numbering the youngest of the recruits, took to flight, and scattered themselves toward the town; others were overpowered and badly beaten; others again— the old experienced soldiers retired to the ramparts, where, secure from attack in the rear, they defended themselves with desperate courage. Victory now seemed to incline decidedly toward the side of the peasants, when the strife received a new impetus. The forces at the gate, who, on account of the struggle outside the ramparts, had forgotten the enemy within, were surprised by the enclosed soldiers, who rushed out to help their comrades. These now found breathing space, and in their turn attacked the peasants with increased fury; the affray became more and more involved, the victory more and more uncertain; both parties had defeats to revenge, and the rage of both increased as the strength on both sides became more equal. And over this scene of tumult and confusion, of lamentation, cries of victory, threats, and wild conflict, the clear and silvery August moon beamed like a heavenly eye upon the selfinflicted anguish and misery of earth. All the inlets of the bay shone in the moonlight; in the tree-tops and on the moist grass there glittered millions of dewdrops, like pearls on midsummer's green robe. All nature breathed an indescribable calm; a gentle breeze from the great shining sea in the west passed softly over the coast; in the distance was heard the monotonous roll of the surf upon the beach, and the stars looked down, silent and twinkling, into the dark waters. When the yard was found empty, Lady Märtha and her soldiers ventured out to behold from a nearer standpoint the strife on the ramparts. The stout-hearted old lady undoubtedly felt inclined to take part in the contest in her way, for she was heard to cry to the peasants in a loud voice: "That's right, boys! drum ahead! let the stick fly! many have danced after worse fiddles!" And to the soldiers she screamed: "Good luck to you, my children; help yourselves to a little supper; Korsholm offers the best the house has. Be at ease; your witch is in good keeping; Korsholm has bolts and bars for you too, miscreants!" But as if a capricious fate wished to convict the old lady of untruth and put all her prudence to shame, a tall, dark, female form appeared at that moment on the top of the rampart, and outlined itself against the moonlit sky. Lady Märtha felt the words die on her lips when, in dismay, she recognized her well-guarded prisoner. How Regina had got out through locked doors and closed windows was to the good dame such an inexplicable enigma that she was for an instant infected by the superstitious belief in the strange girl's alliance with the powers of darkness. She gave up all idea of catching the fugitive, and expected nothing less than to see large black wings grow out of her shoulders, and to see her, like an immense raven, soar aloft toward the starry firmament. The reader, on the other hand, can easily find a natural explanation. The din of the conflict and the sound of the two cannon-shots had reached Regina's lonely chamber. Every moment she expected to be seized by executioners and dragged to a certain death; and so glorious did the lot of dying for her faith seem to her, that her impatience was increased to the highest degree when the noise down below continued, but still, after an hour's interval, no human feet were heard to approach her door. Finally the thought ran through her fanatical soul, that the prince of darkness envied her so grand a fate, and that the strife going on below was instigated by him in order to prepare for her, instead of a glorious death, a languishing life in captivity, without profit or joy. She remembered the singer's advice, to lower herself down through the open window by means of sheets and shawls; quickly she formed her resolution, and before many minutes stood in view of all the combatants on the rampart. As they became aware of the tall form up there in the moonlight, they were seized with the same superstitious dread which had just paralyzed Lady Märtha's quick tongue. The contest gradually subsided, and continued only at the most remote points; friend and foe were affected by a common horror, and near the rampart there was a silence so deep that one could hear in the distance the sea's low murmur against the pebbly beach. And Lady Regina spoke with a voice so loud and clear that if her Swedish had not been so imperfect she could have been very well understood by all within hearing. "Ye children of Belial!" said she, in tones which, though slightly trembling at first, soon became firm and calm, "ye people of the heretic faith, why do ye delay to take my life? Here I stand without weapons, without any human protection, with the high heaven above me and the earth and sea at my feet, and say to you: Your Luther was a false prophet; there is no salvation except in the true universal Catholic Church. Therefore, be converted to the Holy Virgin and all the saints; acknowledge the Pope to be Christ's vicegerent, as he truly is, that you may avert from your heads the sword of St. George, which is already raised to destroy you. But me you can kill in order to seal the veracity of my faith; here I stand; why do you hesitate? I am ready to fall for my faith!" It was Lady Regina's good fortune that her speech was not understood by those to whom it was addressed, for so strong was the power of Lutheranism, in this fervid time when nations and individuals sacrificed life and welfare for their religion, that even the humblest and most ignorant were filled with burning zeal and a blind hate to the Pope and his followers, of which all our crabbed but pithy old psalm-books yet to-day bear plain witness. Had this mass of people, both peasants and soldiers, heard Regina extol the Pope and declare Luther a false prophet, they would inevitably have torn her to pieces in their rage. As it was, the young girl's words were an unmeaning sound in their ears; they saw her firm bearing, and the respect which courage and misfortune united always inspire did not fail to have its effect upon the enraged throng, a few moments before so furious, now irresolute, and at a loss what to think or do. Lady Regina again expected, in vain, to be dragged to death. She descended from the rampart and mingled in the shyly yielding crowd; all could see that she was utterly unprotected, and yet not a hand moved to seize her. "It is not a being of flesh and blood, it is a shadow," said an old Wörå peasant, hesitatingly. "It seems to me that I see the moon shine right through her." "We may test that," exclaimed a shaggy fellow from Ilmola, laying his coarse hand rather roughly on Regina's shoulder. It was a critical moment; the young girl turned around and looked her assailant in the face with such dark, deep, shining eyes, that the latter, seized with a strange emotion, immediately drew his hand back, and stole away abashed. A large number of those standing nearest followed him. None could explain the power of those dark eyes in the moonlight, but all felt their mysterious influence. In a few moments the space around Regina was vacant, the strife had ceased, and a patrolling force, which at last arrived, put an end to the disturbance by arresting the most refractory of the combatants. AUGUSTUS MONTAGUE TOPLADY. TOPLADY, AUGUSTUS MONTAGUE, an English theologian and poet; born at Farnham, Surrey, November 4, 1740; died in London, August 4, 1778. He was educated at Trinity College, Dublin, and became Vicar of Broad Hembury, Devonshire. He was a zealous opponent of Arminianism, as held by Wesley, and published "The Church of England Vindicated from Arminianism " (1774). ROCK OF AGES, CLEFT FOR ME. Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let the water and the blood Cleanse me from its guilt and power. Not the labor of my hands Can fulfil Thy law's demands; Could my zeal no respite know, Nothing in my hands I bring; Simply to Thy cross I cling; While I draw this fleeting breath, |