citizens of Saintes beheld a strange and ominous scene, the commencement of the horrors subsequently perpetrated within the walls of their ancient town.  The day, being a gala one, was ushered in with music of every kind, while the whole population, down to the lowest of the multitude, were decorated with flowers.  Old pitch-barrels and faggots, piled up along the banks of the river, lay in readiness for the illuminations of the evening, while games, dances, and banquets were the diversions of the day.  In the afternoon, there were to be many hogsheads of claret delivered out, and a universal merry-making prevailed.  From an early hour crowds hastened to perform their devotions at the shrine of the patron saint of the city, carrying with them their votive offerings with which to propitiate his favour.

Among the multitude who thronged the high street at noon, were two men, one tall, and of a vigorous form, who looked with an air of thoughtful concern around him.  He was still in the prime of manhood, and about his whole bearing there was a certain air of energetic intelligence, while, ever and anon, his eyes kindled with the fire of enthusiasm; one saw at once he was a worker, and that what his hands found to do would be done with all his might.  His companion was small and deformed, and would not have awakened any interest save from the intense feeling visible on his pale, sunken countenance.  The two were approaching the church of St. Eutropius, where the saint was displayed to the admiring gaze of the people.  On entering the sacred edifice, all kneeled down reverently before a kind of cupboard with an iron grating before it, and at an awful distance made sundry genuflections, and uttered various prayers.  At last, the attendant priests opened the door of the closet where the head of the saint was deposited, and displayed the treasure to view.  It would be difficult to conceive an object less calculated to awaken feelings of true devotion than that presented for adoration.  It was very large, and formed entirely of solid silver; the hair and an immense pair of whiskers were gilt, and the shoulders were covered with lawn, and decorated with glittering gems.  All around were placed the gifts brought by the deluded people, who ascribed the most marvellous power of healing to this graven image.  The divinity was absolutely encircled with their votive offerings.  Group after group, alternately advancing and retiring, filled up the church, and then emerged into the busy streets to gaze upon the crowds of gaily bedecked revellers, and gossip over the news of the day.

Close to the gate of the church Palissy and his companion had taken their stand, and were conversing together in low tones.  “Alas! I know the truth of the facts, and can assert them for such,” said the former; “nay, I was myself present when the three brethren admirably disputed and maintained their religion in the presence of that false theologian, Navières, who had himself, some months ago, begun to detect errors, although now, conquered by his love of gain, he stoutly upholds the contrary.  Well did brother Robin know how to reproach him with this to his face, and he flinched under his words, but for all the right is with the poor heretics, as they are called, the power is with their enemies, and they have ever since languished in prison.  After a while Robin fell sick of pleurisy, and as it was feared he might die in his bed, after all, they sent both for physician and apothecary, the latter of whom is well known to me, having been but too frequent a visitor in my afflicted household.  The worthy man has conveyed many a message from me to the brethren, and in more ways than one has done them good service.”  “And now they are to be made a show of openly, like the servants of the Lord in former times,” said Bernard’s comrade; “it is a hateful thing when the wicked triumph, and when the righteous are as the offscouring of all things.”  “Patience, my good Victor,” replied the sturdy potter.  “Let us see the end of these things.  At present we are but in the beginning of sorrows; I am of opinion we must lay our account for trouble, and assure ourselves that we shall have enemies and be persecuted, if, by direct paths, we will follow and sustain the cause of God; for such are the promises written originally in the Old and New Testaments.  Let us, then, take refuge under the shelter of our protecting Chief and Captain the Lord Christ, who, in time and place, will know how properly to avenge the wrongs his people have suffered, and our sorrows.”

As he spoke, the sound of music was heard at a distance, and presently a noisy rabble crowded the street, running, shouting, pushing, and gesticulating.  Then followed the procession, whose approach had been heralded by the sound of drums, fifes, and tabrets; horsemen gaily attired, rode, two and two, at a foot pace; then flags and banners were borne aloft, and a troop of priests, barefooted, and carrying torches, advanced at a slow pace.  A strange and melancholy sight was next presented to the eyes of the by-standers; three men, caparisoned in green, and bedizened with fluttering ribbons, walked, bridled like horses, and each of them having an apple of iron fastened to the bridle, which filled all the inside of his mouth.  Thus tortured and degraded, the three brethren, Robin, Nicole, and he of Gimosac, were driven, like beasts, by their cruel enemy, Collardeau, who triumphantly conducted them, in this wise, to a scaffold, which was erected in the market-place, that they might there be exposed to the public execration, as fools and madmen.  This done, they were returned to prison, thence to be conveyed to Bordeaux to receive sentence of death.

“A hideous sight to behold,” said Palissy, drawing a deep breath, as he looked after the three sufferers, whose sole crime was that they had manfully upheld the cause of truth, “and one that makes us marvel at the wondrous patience of God.  How long, O Lord, wilt thou leave thy chosen ones at the mercy of those who cease not to torment them?”  This sorrowful exclamation had scarcely been uttered, when two fellows who stood near fell to quarrelling and beating each other.  A ring was soon formed around them, and the bystanders looking on cried, “Give it him well; strike as though he were an heretic.”  “Alas!” said Palissy, “what frightful crimes will be committed when such a spirit grows rife; already terrible things are done elsewhere.  I heard but yesterday, through one who shall be nameless, that many are burned and destroyed in various ways, in Paris and elsewhere.  A peasant in the forest of Lyons, met four men who were on their way to execution.  He asked the reason of their punishment, and having learned they were Huguenots, claimed a place upon the cart, and went to the gallows with them.”

That evening there occurred what Bernard called “an admirable accident.”  The three heretics had been conveyed to their prison-house carefully guarded; and, above all, Robin, who was the principal object of hatred, and whom it was designed to put to death with the most cruelty.  He was kept, with his companions, heavily ironed, in a prison attached to the bishop’s palace, and a sentry was placed to watch outside, while a number of large village dogs were turned into the court-yard.  But, for all these precautions, Robin did not despair.  He had obtained a file (probably Palissy could have told how he managed this,) and having filed off the irons which were upon his legs, he gave the file to his fellow-captives, and proceeded to scrape a hole through the prison wall.  But a