night took the form of Grandier himself.
Several said they saw him, felt him near them in the night, and
yielded unawares to his bold advances. Was all this fancy, or the fun
of novices? Had Grandier bribed the porteress or ventured to climb
the walls? This part of the business was never cleared up.

From that time the three felt sure of catching him. And first, among
the small folk under their protection, they stirred up two good souls
to declare that they could no longer keep as vicar a profligate, a
wizard, a devil, a freethinker, who bent one knee in church instead of
two, who scoffed at rules and granted dispensations contrary to the
rights of the Bishop. A shrewd accusation, which turned against him
his natural defender, the Bishop of Poitiers, and delivered him over
to the fury of the monks.

To say truth, all this was planned with much skill. Besides raising up
two poor people as accusers, they thought it advisable to have him
cudgelled by a noble. In those days of duelling a man who let himself
be cudgelled with impunity lost ground with the public, and sank in
the esteem of the women. Grandier deeply felt the blow. Fond of making
a noise in all cases, he went to the King, threw himself on his knees,
and besought vengeance for the insult to his gown. From so devout a
king he might have gained it; but here there chanced to be some
persons who told the King that it was all an affair of love, the fury
of a betrayed husband wreaking itself on his foe.

At the spiritual court of Poitiers, Grandier was condemned to do
penance, to be banished from Loudun, and disgraced as a priest. But
the civil court took up the matter and found him innocent. He had
still to await the orders of him by whom Poitiers was spiritually
overruled, Sourdis, Archbishop of Bordeaux. That warlike prelate, an
admiral and brave sailor more than a priest, shrugged his shoulders on
hearing of such peccadilloes. He acquitted the vicar, but at the same
time wisely recommended him to go and live anywhere out of Loudun.

This the proud man did not care to do. He wanted to enjoy his triumph
on the very field of battle, to show off before the ladies. He came
back to Loudun in broad day, with mighty noise; the women all looking
out of window, as he went by with a laurel-branch in his hand.

* * * * *

Not satisfied with that piece of folly, he began to threaten, to
demand reparation. Thus pushed and imperilled in the