asked his forgiveness.

"You have not offended me," was the reply; "you have only done what your
duty obliged you to do."

The executioner then came forward and removed the back board of the
cart, and ordered his assistants to carry Grandier to where the pile was
prepared. As he was unable to stand, he was attached to the stake by
an iron hoop passed round his body. At that moment a flock of pigeons
seemed to fall from the sky, and, fearless of the crowd, which was so
great that the archers could not succeed even by blows of their weapons
in clearing a way for the magistrates, began to fly around Grandier,
while one, as white as the driven snow, alighted on the summit of the
stake, just above his head. Those who believed in possession exclaimed
that they were only a band of devils come to seek their master, but
there were many who muttered that devils were not wont to assume such a
form, and who persisted in believing that the doves had come in default
of men to bear witness to Grandier's innocence.

In trying next day to combat this impression, a monk asserted that he
had seen a huge fly buzzing round Grandier's head, and as Beelzebub
meant in Hebrew, as he said, the god of flies, it was quite evident that
it was that demon himself who, taking upon him the form of one of his
subjects, had come to carry off the magician's soul.

When everything was prepared, the executioner passed the rope by
which he meant to strangle him round Grandier's neck; then the priests
exorcised the earth, air, and wood, and again demanded of their victim
if he would not publicly confess his crimes. Urbain replied that he
had nothing to say, but that he hoped through the martyr's death he was
about to die to be that day with Christ in Paradise.

The clerk then read his sentence to him for the fourth time, and asked
if he persisted in what he said under torture.

"Most certainly I do," said Urbain; "for it was the exact truth."

Upon this, the clerk withdrew, first informing Grandier that if he had
anything to say to the people he was at liberty to speak.

But this was just what the exorcists did not want: they knew Grandier's
eloquence and courage, and a firm, unshaken denial at the moment of
death would be most prejudicial to their interests. As soon, therefore,
as Grandier opened his lips to speak, they dashed such a quantity of
holy water in his face that it took away his breath. It was but for
a moment, however, and he recovered h