After some
months' confinement, he is called into the Hall of Justice, and asked
if he knows why he is in prison; they advise him earnestly to confess
and to conceal nothing, as it is the only way by which he can obtain
his liberty. He declares his ignorance, and being sent for several
times, persists in it. The period of the _Auto da Fé_, or Act of
Faith, which takes place every two or three years (that is, the public
execution of those who have been found guilty by the Inquisition),
approaches. The public accuser then comes forward, stating that the
prisoner has been accused by a number of witnesses of Judaism. They
persuade him to acknowledge his guilt; he persists in his innocence;
they then pass a sentence on him, which they term _Convicto Invotivo_,
which means "found guilty, but will not confess his crime;" and he is
sentenced to be burnt at the approaching celebration. After this they
follow him to his cell, and exhort him to confess his guilt, and
promise that if he does confess he shall be pardoned; and these
appeals are continued until the evening of the day before his
execution. Terrified at the idea of a painful death, the wretch,
at last, to save his life, consents. He is called into the Hall of
Judgment, confesses the crime that he has not committed, and imagines
that he is now saved.--Alas! no; he has entangled himself, and cannot
escape. "You acknowledge that you have been guilty of observing the laws of
Moses. These ceremonies cannot be performed alone; you cannot have
eaten the Paschal lamb _alone_; tell us immediately, who were those
who assisted at those ceremonies, or your life is still forfeited, and
the stake is prepared for you." Thus has he accused himself without gaining anything, and if he wishes
to save his life he must accuse others; and who can be accused but
his own friends and acquaintances? nay, in all probability, his own
relations--his brothers, sisters, wife, sons or daughters--for it is
natural to suppose that in all such practices a man will trust only
his own family. Whether a man confesses his guilt, or dies asserting
his innocence, his worldly property is in either case confiscated; but
it is of great consequence to the Inquisition that he should confess,
as his act of confession, with his signature annexed, is publicly
read, and serves to prove to the world that the Inquisition is
impartial and just; nay, more, even merciful, as it pardons those who
have been proved to be guilty. At Goa the accusations of sorcery and magic were much more frequent
than at the Inquisitions at other places, arising from the customs
and ceremonies of the Hindoos being very much mixed up with absurd
superstitions. These people, and the slaves from other parts, very
often embraced Christianity to please their masters; but since, if
they had been baptised and were afterwards convicted of any crime,
they were sentenced to the punishment by fire; whereas, if they had
not been baptised, they were only punished by whipping, imprisonment,
or the galleys; upon this ground alone many refused to embrace
Christianity. We have now detailed all that we consider, up to the present,
necessary for the information of the reader; all that is omitted he
will gather as we proceed with our history. Chapter XXXVII


A few hours after Amine had been in the dungeon, the jailors entered:
without speaking to her they let down her soft silky hair, and cut
it close off. Amine, with her lip curled in contempt, and without
resistance and expostulation, allowed them to do their work. They
finished, and she was again left to her solitude. The next day the jailors entered her cell, and ordered her to bare her
feet, and follow them. She looked at them, and they at her. "If you do
not, we must," observed one of the men, who was moved by her youth
and beauty. Amine did as she was desired and was led into the Hall of
Justice, where she found only the Grand Inquisitor and the Secretary. The Hall of Justice was a long room with lofty windows on each side,
and also at the end opposite to the door through which she had been
led in. In the centre, on a raised dais, was a long table covered with
a cloth of alternate blue and fawn-coloured stripes; and at the
end opposite to where Amine was brought in was raised an enormous
crucifix, with a carved image of our Saviour. The jailor pointed to a
small bench, and intimated to Amine that she was to sit down. After a scrutiny of some moments, the Secretary spoke:--

"What is your name?" "Amine Vanderdecken." "Of what country?" "My husband is of the Low Countries; I am from the East." "What is your husband?" "The captain of a Dutch Indiaman." "How came you here?" "His vessel was wrecked, and we were separated." "Whom do you know here?" "Father Mathias." "What property have you?" "None; it is my husband's." "Where is it?" "In the custody of Father Mathias." "Are you aware why you are brought here?" "How should I be?" replied Amine, evasively; "tell me what I am
accused of." "You must know whether you have done wrong or not. You had better
confess all your conscience accuses you of." "My conscience does not accuse me of doing wrong." "Then you will confess nothing?" "By your own showing, I have nothing to confess." "You say you are from the East: are you a Christian?" "I reject your creed." "You are married to a Catholic?" "Yes! a true Catholic." "Who married you?" "Father Seysen, a Catholic priest." "Did you enter into the bosom of the church?--did he venture to marry
you without your being baptised?" "Some ceremony did take place which I consented to." "It was baptism, was it not?" "I believe it was so termed." "And now you say that you reject the creed?" "Since I have witnessed the conduct of those who profess it, I do: at
the time of my marriage I was disposed towards it." "What is the amount of your property in the Father Mathias's hands?" "Some hundreds of dollars--he knows exactly." The Grand Inquisitor rang a bell; the jailors entered, and Amine was
led back to her dungeon. "Why should they ask so often about my money?" mused Amine; "If they
require it, they may take it. What is their power? What would they do
with me? Well, well, a few days will decide." A few days!--no, no,
Amine; years perhaps would have passed without decision, but that in
four months from the date of your incarceration, the _Auto da Fé_,
which had not been celebrated for upwards of three years, was to take
place, and there was not a sufficient number of those who were to
undergo the last punishment to render the ceremony imposing. A few
more were required for the stake, or you would not have escaped from
those dungeons so soon. As it was, a month of anxiety and suspense,
almost insupportable, had to be passed away, before Amine was again
summoned to the Hall of Justice. Amine, at the time we have specified, was again introduced to the Hall
of Justice, and was again asked if she would confess.