th of their exile--they
attained their wish in the following manner:

One day the exiles perceived a carpenter belonging to a little village
called Cauvisson approaching their place of refuge. He desired to speak
to M. Nicolas de Calviere, seigneur de St. Cosme, and brother of the
president, who was known to be a very enterprising man. To him the
carpenter, whose name was Maduron, made the following proposition:

In the moat of Nimes, close to the Gate of the Carmelites, there was a
grating through which the waters from the fountain found vent. Maduron
offered to file through the bars of this grating in such a manner that
some fine night it could be lifted out so as to allow a band of armed
Protestants to gain access to the city. Nicolas de Calviere approving of
this plan, desired that it should be carried out at once; but the
carpenter pointed out that it would be necessary to wait for stormy
weather, when the waters swollen by the rain would by their noise drown
the sound of the file. This precaution was doubly necessary as the box
of the sentry was almost exactly above the grating. M. de Calviere tried
to make Maduron give way; but the latter, who was risking more than
anyone else, was firm. So whether they liked it or not, de Calviere and
the rest had to await his good pleasure.

Some days later rainy weather set in, and as usual the fountain became
fuller; Maduron seeing that the favourable moment had arrived, glided at
night into the moat and applied his file, a friend of his who was hidden
on the ramparts above pulling a cord attached to Maduron's arm every time
the sentinel, in pacing his narrow round, approached the spot. Before
break of day the work was well begun. Maduron then obliterated all traces
of his file by daubing the bars with mud and wax, and withdrew. For
three consecutive nights he returned to his task, taking the same
precautions, and before the fourth was at an end he found that by means
of a slight effort the grating could be removed. That was all that was
needed, so he gave notice to Messire Nicolas de Calviere that the moment
had arrived.

Everything was favourable to the undertaking: as there was no moon, the
next night was chosen to carry out the plan, and as soon as it was dark
Messire Nicolas de Calviere set out with his men, who, slipping down into
the moat without noise, crossed, the water being up to their belts,
climbed up the other side, and crept along at the foot of the