rd before the assailants streamed
into the room, a dozen ruffians, reeking and tattered, with flushed
faces and greedy, staring eyes. Once inside, however, suddenly--so
suddenly that an idle spectator might have found the change
ludicrous--they came to a stop. Their wild cries ceased, and tumbling
over one another with curses and oaths they halted, surveying us in
muddled surprise; seeing what was before them, and not liking it.
Their leader appeared to be a tall butcher with a pole-axe on his
half-naked shoulder; but there were among them two or three soldiers in
the royal livery and carrying pikes. They had looked for victims only,
having met with no resistance at the gate, and the foremost recoiled
now on finding themselves confronted by the muzzle of the arquebuse and
the lighted match.

I seized the occasion. I knew, indeed, that the pause presented our
only chance, and I sprang on a chair and waved my hand for silence.
The instinct of obedience for the moment asserted itself; there was a
stillness in the room.

"Beware!" I cried loudly--as loudly and confidently as I could,
considering that there was a quaver at my heart as I looked on those
savage faces, which met and yet avoided my eye. "Beware of what you
do! We are Catholics one and all like yourselves, and good sons of the
Church. Ay, and good subjects too! VIVE LE ROI, gentlemen! God save
the King! I say." And I struck the barricade with my sword until the
metal rang again. "God save the King!"

"Cry VIVE LA MESSE!" shouted one.

"Certainly, gentlemen!" I replied, with politeness. "With all my
heart. VIVE LA MESSE! VIVE LA MESSE!"

This took the butcher, who luckily was still sober, utterly aback. He
had never thought of this. He stared at us as if the ox he had been
about to fell had opened its mouth and spoken, and grievously at a
loss, he looked for help to his companions.

Later in the day, some Catholics were killed by the mob. But their
deaths as far as could be learned afterwards were due to private feuds.
Save in such cases--and they were few--the cry of VIVE LA MESSE!
always obtained at least a respite: more easily of course in the
earlier hours of the morning when the mob were scarce at ease in their
liberty to kill, while killing still seemed murder, and men were not
yet drunk with bloodshed.

I read the hesitation of the gang in their faces: and when one asked
roughly who we were, I replied with greater boldness, "