THE VICTIM. 
193 
The criminal condemned to the dreadful punishment 
already stated, was more composed ; but hers was the 
composure of sustained and holy fortitude, not of indif- 
ference, for all the tenderest impulses of former and 
almost forgotten affections had been rekindled in her 
bosom to a most painful excess : still she repelled 
their distressing ebullitions, lest they should distract 
her thoughts from the solemn trial which awaited her 
so nearly. 
The day of probation dawned; and the victim 
was summoned to discharge a penalty imposed by 
the tyranny of superstition. She was preceded by 
two men, appointed to place her into the vessel of 
boiling oil, each being furnished with a thick leathern 
strap, the instrument by which she was to be laid in 
the dreadful receptacle. She moved forward in silence, 
her hands crossing her bosom, and her brow raised 
with an expression of solemn reliance towards heaven. 
The place selected for this fearful ceremony was 
near the edge of a deep tank, around which was as- 
sembled an immense concourse of spectators. Above 
a large fire, resting upon four high flat stones, was a 
long iron vessel, something in the shape of a coffin, 
nearly filled with cocoa-nut oil ; this was boiling 
gently over the glowing flame, excited by a quantity 
of grease being thrown upon it to more rapid com- 
bustion. The husband of her who was about to under- 
go the appalling ordeal stood near the fire with a coun- 
tenance in which the deep struggles of emotion were 
too evident. His eyes, sunk in their bony sockets, 
were bloodshot and glassy, as if the sight had been 
dimmed by the sad ravages of years. He did not 
s 
