inhuman assailants,
when his father and his brother fell at his side and he perceived himself
covered with their blood, he dropped down with the exclamation that he was
dead. So perfectly did he counterfeit death, all that long day, that,
although his body was examined by successive bands of plunderers, and
deprived not only of every valuable, but even of its clothing, he did not
by a motion betray that he was alive. Most of these persons applauded the
crime. It was well, they said, to kill the little wolves with the greater.
But, toward evening, a more humane person came, who, while engaged in
drawing off a stocking which had been left on the boy's foot, gave
expression to his abhorrence of the bloody deed. To his astonishment the
boy raised his head, and whispered, "I am not dead." The compassionate man
at once commanded him not to stir, and went home; but as soon as it was
dark he returned with a cloak, which he threw about young La Force's
shoulders, and bade him follow. It was no easy matter to thread the
streets unmolested; but his guide dispelled the suspicions of those who
questioned him respecting the boy by declaring that it was his nephew whom
he had found drunk, and was going to whip soundly for it. In the end the
young nobleman reached the arsenal, where his relative, Marshal Biron, was
in command. Even there, however, the avarice of his unnatural sister
pursued him. Vexed that, on account of his preservation, she must fail to
secure the entire inheritance of the family, Madame de la Chataigneraie
tried to effect herself what she had not been able to do by means of
another; she visited the marshal in the arsenal, and, after expressing
great joy that her brother had been saved, begged to be permitted to see
and care for him. Biron thought it necessary, in order to preserve the
boy's life, to deny her request.[1017]

[Sidenote: Pitiless butchery.]

The frenzy that had fallen upon Paris affected all classes alike. Every
feeling of pity seemed to have been blotted out. Natural affection
disappeared. A man's foes were those of his own household. On the plea of
religious zeal the most barbarous acts were committed. Spire Niquet, a
poor bookbinder, whose scanty earnings barely sufficed to support the
wants of his seven children, was half-roasted in a bonfire made of his own
books, and then dragged to the river and drowned.[1018] The weaker sex was
not spared in the universal carnage, and, as in a town taken by ass