assy church, he turned to his suite to inquire what it meant. "It is the
Huguenots' preaching," some one replied. "_Par la mort-Dieu_," broke in a
second, "they will soon be huguenotted after another fashion!" Others
began to make eager calculations respecting the extent of the plunder. A
few minutes later an unlucky cobbler was espied, who, from his dress or
manner, was mistaken for a Huguenot minister. It was well that he could
answer the inquiries of the duke, before whom he was hurried, by assuring
him that he was no clergyman and had never studied; otherwise, he was
told, his case had been an extremely ugly one.[37]

[Sidenote: The massacre.]

On entering Vassy Guise repaired to the monastery chapel to hear mass
said. He was followed by some of the gentlemen of his suite. Meantime,
their valets found their way to the doors of the building in which the
Protestants were worshipping, scarcely more than a stone's throw distant.
This motley crowd was merely the vanguard of the Papists. Soon two or
three gentlemen sent by Guise, according to his own account, to admonish
the Huguenot assembly of their want of due obedience, entered the edifice,
where they found twelve hundred persons quietly listening to the word of
God. They were politely invited to sit down: but they replied by noisy
interruption and threats. "_Mort-Dieu_, they must all be killed!" was
their exclamation as they returned to report to Guise what they had seen.
The defenceless Huguenots were thrown into confusion by these significant
menaces, and hastened to secure the entrance. It was too late. The duke
himself was approaching, and a volley from the arquebuses of his troop
speedily scattered the unarmed worshippers. It is unnecessary to describe
in all its details of horror the scene that ensued. The door of the
sheep-fold was open and the wolf was already upon his prey. All the
pent-up hatred of a band of fanatical and savage soldiers was vented upon
a crowd of men, women, and children, whose heterodoxy made them pleasing
victims, and whose unarmed condition rendered victory easy. No age, no sex
was respected. It was enough to be a Huguenot to be a fit object for the
sword or the gun. To escape from the doomed building was only possible by
running the gauntlet of the troops that lay in wait. Those who sought to
climb from the roof to the adjacent houses were picked off by the
arquebuses of the besieging party. Only after an hour and a half had
elapsed we