Here is the last part of Faithful Unto Death. I hope you have enjoyed reading it and that it has blessed you in some way.
This is part 3 of a 3 part story; click here to read part 1; click here to read part 2.
Faithful Unto Death, Part III
The sun was well on its way to setting the next day when Marianne was brought to trial. The trial was very similar to the questions she had been asked by the soldier at her capture.
“Marianne Wilson,” droned the judge, “Are you of the reformed Christian faith, which hath been condemned by Her Majesty, Queen Mary, and is punishable by torture, scourging and or death?”
“I am, your honor,” replied Marianne.
“Will you recant your beliefs, and be given freedom to return to your home and live in peace?”
“I will not, your honor.”
The judge sighed as if weary of dealing with these stubborn rebels. “Then we must see if a little beating will not cure you of your obstinacy,” he said, motioning to two soldiers standing by.
They came forward, another following with a whip. They seized her arms and forced her to her knees. She offered no resistance.
The whip cracked over her back. Marianne clenched her teeth and blinked back tears.
“Count it all joy. Count it all joy. Be of good cheer!” she repeated over and over to herself.
It was really only a few moments, but to Marianne it seemed like hours. The men ceased their beating and she was dragged to her feet.
“What think you now, heretic maiden?” sneered the judge. “Will you recant? If you will not, there are worse tortures that await you.”
“I will not recant! A bleeding back is nothing in comparison to the horrors I would face before the judgment seat of God if I deny Him,” Marianne answered with spirit. “And I praise the Lord for the tortures that await me. Am I not the more blessed in His sight because of them?”
“Rubbish!” scoffed the judge. In an aside to one of his men he said, “I do not understand these fanatical Christians. The weak ones will comply when tortured; but these stubborn ones are impossible. The more I torture them, the more they praise God; and the less I torture them, the more they praise God, until I know not what to do to silence them; except to kill them.” He sighed in exasperation. “But, this one is young; perhaps more severe tortures will break her will.”
I will not horrify my readers with descriptions of the tortures to which Marianne was subjected that day; but under each she remained steadfast, until at the last, she was drawn to her feet and had to be supported by the soldiers in order to stand.
“After all this, will you recant?” demanded the judge.
“I will not,” Marianne answered faintly, and before the judge could reply, merciful Providence, for a time, relieved her pain in unconsciousness.
“The maid hath swooned, your honor,” said one soldier.
“Bah!” exclaimed the judge in disgust. “Take her away. I have not time to waste upon her. You may have her beheaded tomorrow.”
Marianne came to her senses when she was laid again in her cell. She winced in pain as her open wounds touched the rough straw that served as a bed.
“You have assuredly played the fool,” said one of the soldiers, not unkindly. “If you had but promised to forsake your religion you would even now be at home with your family. Now you must die.”
Marianne smiled. “It is joyous to suffer pain and give my life for my Lord.”
The other soldier laughed derisively. “You will not think so when you see the block stained with the blood of those who have died before you, and on which your pretty head will soon lie. Oh, that will be pleasure, indeed!”
“You mistake me, sir,” said Marianne. “I said not pleasure, but joy.”
She was too exhausted to elaborate; but finished simply, “I will pray for you.”
“Ha! How very grateful I shall be!” laughed the soldier. “I am a poor sinner, much in need of the prayers of heretics!”
But the first soldier gave her one grave glance, and when the other was out of hearing, whispered, “Will you pray also for me?”
She smiled at him. “I will.”
The morning dawned bright and fair. Marianne had spent the sleepless night in prayer, and was still praying when the soldiers came to lead her to her execution. They stopped at the door of her cell.
“It is Thy will that I die today, oh Lord.” Marianne’s voice came to their ears. “Grant that I may die with grace befitting one who goes to the presence of a King. Strengthen me in this hour. Comfort my poor father and mother; and forgive those who are, perhaps unknowingly, murdering the chosen of God.”
The soldiers unlocked the door.
“Marianne Wilson,” said the first, “You are to come with us to be beheaded.”
To his surprise she turned to him a face radiant with joy. “How blessed it is to go to Christ Jesus so early in my life.”
The soldier pretended to ignore her, and produced a chain to bind her.
“That will not be necessary,” she said, motioning it away. “I will come with you with all my heart.”
“Come then.”
She rose with difficulty, still keenly feeling the effects of yesterday’s tortures. Thankfully it was a short walk to the place of execution. Marianne saw the block and greeted the executioner with unshaken composure. The second soldier who escorted her was young, and asked her wonderingly, “Why do you not weep?”
She glanced at him with a faraway look in her eyes. “Why should I weep when I go to a place far better than this sinful earth?” she asked gently. “I am more than willing to exchange this trouble-filled life for an eternal one in the heavens with the God whom I serve. There is no cause for weeping; rather, there is cause for rejoicing.”
Leaving the soldier to his own reflections on her words, Marianne mounted the platform. Laying her head upon the block, she said,
“Heavenly Father, receive my spirit!”
The axe glittered through the air, and fell. Marianne was with her Lord in heaven, where “God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.” (Revelation 21:4).
The End
This story is copyrighted © 2009 by Kathryn Y., All Rights Reserved.
Thank you for reading. Have a great day!
