brethren we must show mercy to him."

Whether this fact had been miraculously revealed to Seguier, or whether
he had gained his information from other sources, the newly released
prisoners confirmed its truth, calling out that the man had indeed
treated them with humanity. Just then a roar as of a wild beast was
heard: one of the fanatics, whose brother had been put to death by the
abbe, had just caught sight of him, the whole neighbourhood being lit
up by the fire; he was kneeling in an angle of the wall, to which he had
dragged himself.

"Down with the son of Belial!" shouted the crowd, rushing towards the
priest, who remained kneeling and motionless like a marble statue. His
valet took advantage of the confusion to escape, and got off easily;
for the sight of him on whom the general hate was concentrated made the
Huguenots forget everything else:

Esprit Seguier was the first to reach the priest, and spreading his
hands over him, he commanded the others to hold back. "God desireth not
the death of a sinner,'" said he, "'but rather that he turn from his
wickedness and live.'"

"No, no!" shouted a score of voices, refusing obedience for the first
time, perhaps, to an order from the prophet; "let him die without mercy,
as he struck without pity. Death to the son of Belial, death!"

"Silence!" exclaimed the prophet in a terrible voice, "and listen to the
word of God from my mouth. If this man will join us and take upon
him the duties of a pastor, let us grant him his life, that he may
henceforward devote it to the spread of the true faith."

"Rather a thousand deaths than apostasy!" answered the priest.

"Die, then!" cried Laporte, stabbing him; "take that for having burnt my
father in Nimes."

And he passed on the dagger to Esprit Seguier.

Duchayla made neither sound nor gesture: it would have seemed as if the
dagger had been turned by the priest's gown as by a coat of mail were it
not that a thin stream of blood appeared. Raising his eyes to heaven, he
repeated the words of the penitential psalm: "Out of the depths have I
cried unto Thee, O Lord! Lord, hear my voice!"

Then Esprit Seguier raised his arm and struck in his turn, saying, "Take
that for my son, whom you broke on the wheel at Montpellier."

And he passed on the dagger.

But this blow also was not mortal, only another stream of blood
appeared, and the abbe said in a failing voice, "Deliver me, O my
Saviour, out of my well-merited sufferings,