ched from him; he was stripped of his clothes and
arrayed in a grotesque and ragged garment which chanced to be at hand;
his mitre was replaced by a peasant's cap; and in this condition he was
dragged back to the palace and placed on the brink of the well to be
thrown in. One of the assassins drew attention to the fact that it
was already full. "Pooh!" replied another, "they won't mind a little
crowding for a bishop." Meantime the prelate, seeing he need expect no
mercy from man, threw himself on his knees and commended his soul
to God. Suddenly, however, one of those who had shown himself most
ferocious during the massacre, Jean Coussinal by name, was touched as
if by miracle with a feeling of compassion at the sight of so much
resignation, and threw himself between the bishop and those about
to strike, and declaring that whoever touched the prelate must first
overcome himself, took him under his protection, his comrades retreating
in astonishment. Jean Coussinal raising the bishop, carried him in his
arms into a neighbouring house, and drawing his sword, took his stand on
the threshold.

The assassins, however, soon recovered from their surprise, and
reflecting that when all was said and done they were fifty to one,
considered it would be shameful to let themselves be intimidated by
a single opponent, so they advanced again on Coussinal, who with a
back-handed stroke cut off the head of the first-comer. The cries upon
this redoubled, and two or three shots were fired at the obstinate
defender of the poor bishop, but they all missed aim. At that moment
Captain Bouillargues passed by, and seeing one man attacked by fifty,
inquired into the cause. He was told of Coussinal's odd determination to
save the bishop. "He is quite right," said the captain; "the bishop has
paid ransom, and no one has any right to touch him." Saying this, he
walked up to Coussinal, gave him his hand, and the two entered the
house, returning in a few moments with the bishop between them. In this
order they crossed the town, followed by the murmuring crowd, who were,
however, afraid to do more than murmur; at the gate the bishop was
provided with an escort and let go, his defenders remaining there till
he was out of sight.

The massacres went on during the whole of the second day, though towards
evening the search for victims relaxed somewhat; but still many isolated
acts of murder took place during the night. On the morrow, being tired
of killin