Laporte, seeing two of his men killed and five or six wounded, called out loudly, "Children of God, lay down your arms: this way of going to work is too slow; let us burn the abbey and all in it. To work! to work! "The advice was good, and they all hastened to follow it: benches, chairs, and furniture of all sorts were heaped up in the hall, a palliasse thrown on the top, and the pile fired. In a moment the whole building was ablaze, and the Arch-priest, yielding to the entreaties of his servants, fastened his sheets to the window-bars, and by their help dropped into the garden. The drop was so great that he broke one of his thigh bones, but dragging himself along on his hands and one knee, he, with one of his servants, reached a recess in the wall, while another servant was endeavouring to escape through the flames, thus falling into the hands of the fanatics, who carried him before their captain. Then cries of "The prophet! the prophet!" were heard on all sides. Esprit Seguier, feeling that something fresh had taken place, came forward, still holding in his hand the blazing torch with which he had set fire to the pile.
"Brother," asked Laporte, pointing to the prisoner, "is this man to die?"
Esprit Seguier fell on his knees and covered his face with his mantle, like Samuel, and sought the Lord in prayer, asking to know His will.
In a short time he rose and said, "This man is not to die; for inasmuch as he has showed mercy to our 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, and I will acknowledge their justice; far I have been a man of blood."
The next who seized the dagger came near and gave his blow, saying, "Take that for my brother, whom you let die in the 'ceps.'"
This time the dagger pierced the heart, and the abbe had only time to ejaculate, "Have mercy on me, O God, according to Thy great mercy!" before he fell back dead.
But his death did not satisfy the vengeance of those who had not been able to strike him living; one by one they drew near and stabbed, each invoking the shade of some dear murdered one and pronouncing the same words of malediction.
In all, the body of the abbe received fifty-two dagger thrusts, of which twenty-four would have been mortal.
Thus perished, at the age of fifty-five, Messire Francois de Langlade Duchayla, prior of Laval, inspector of missions in Gevaudan, and Arch-priest of the Cevennes and Mende.
Their vengeance thus accomplished, the murderers felt that there was no more safety for them in either city or plain, and fled to the mountains; but in passing near the residence of M. de Laveze, a Catholic nobleman of the parish of Molezon, one of the fugitives recollected that he had heard that a great number of firearms was kept in the house. This seemed a lucky chance, for firearms were what the Huguenots needed most of all. They therefore sent two envoys to M. de Laveze to ask him to give them at, least a share of his weapons; but he, as a good Catholic, replied that it was quite true that he had indeed a store of arms, but that they were destined to the triumph and not to the desecration of religion, and that he would only give them up with his life. With these words, he dismissed the envoys, barring his doors behind them.
