d cause by all other means
within his reach. He was at home waiting, with that calm which perfect
trust in God gives, for the day to come which had been appointed for the
execution of the plan, when suddenly his house was surrounded during the
night by the royals. Faithful to his principles, he offered no
resistance, but held out his hands to be bound. He was taken in triumph
to Nimes, and from there to the citadel of Montpellier. On the way he
encountered his wife and his son, who were going to the latter town to
intercede for him. When they met him, they dismounted from their horse,
for the mother was riding on a pillion behind the son, and kneeling on
the highroad, asked for Boeton's blessing. Unfeeling though the soldiers
were, they yet permitted their prisoner to stop an instant, while he,
raising his fettered hands to heaven, gave the double blessing asked for.
So touched was Baron Saint-Chatte by the scene (be it remarked in passing
that the baron and Boeton were cousins by marriage) that he permitted
them to embrace one another, so for a few moments they stood, the husband
and father clasped to the hearts of his dear ones; then, on a sign from
Boeton, they tore themselves away, Boeton commanding them to pray for M.
de Saint-Chatte, who had given them this consolation. As he resumed his
march the prisoner set them the example by beginning to sing a psalm for
the benefit of M. de Saint-Chatte.

The next day, despite the intercession of his wife and son, Boeton was
condemned to torture both ordinary and extraordinary, and then to be
broken on the wheel. On hearing this cruel sentence, he said that he was
ready to suffer every ill that God might send him in order to prove the
steadfastness of his faith.

And indeed he endured his torture with such firmness, that M. de Baville,
who was present in the hope of obtaining a confession, became more
impatient than the sufferer, and, forgetting his sacred office, the judge
struck and insulted the prisoner. Upon this Baeton raised his eyes to
heaven and cried, "Lord, Lord! how long shall the wicked triumph? How
long shall innocent blood be shed? How long wilt Thou not judge and
avenge our blood with cries to Thee? Remember Thy jealousy, O Lord, and
Thy loving-kindness of old!" Then M. de Baville withdrew, giving orders
that he was to be brought to the scaffold.

The scaffold was erected on the Esplanade: being, as was usual when this
sort of death was to be inf