strange accident here occurred.  It chanced that a number of hogsheads which had been emptied during the fête, had been piled, one above another, against the wall, and these being pushed down by the prisoner, in his efforts to escape, fell with rumbling noise, and awakened the sleeping sentry, who listened for a while, but hearing nothing further, and overcome by the fumes of the liquor in which he had indulged somewhat freely, relapsed into slumber.  Bernard tells, in his quaint manner, what next befell, thus: “Then the said Robin went out into the court at the mercy of the dogs; however, God had inspired him to take some bread, which he threw to the said dogs, who were quiet as the lions of Daniel.  It was so ordered that he should find an open door, which led into the garden, where, finding himself again shut up between certain somewhat high walls, he perceived by the light of the moon, a tall pear tree, close enough to the outer wall, and having mounted this, he perceived, on the outer side of the wall, a chimney, to which he could leap easily enough.”  He was soon safe in the street, but, having never been in the town before, he was at a loss how to proceed.  In this dilemma, the clever fugitive recalled to mind the names of the physician and apothecary who had attended him, and went knocking from door to door inquiring for their residence.  He had contrived to fasten his fetters to his leg, and carrying his dress about his shoulders, had the adroitness to arrange it somewhat after the costume of a footman, so that the people whom he roused were deceived, and supposing it to be an urgent case of sickness, gave him the necessary directions.  In this manner he succeeded in gaining the shelter of a friendly roof, and from thence was conducted safely out of the town; nor was he again taken, though, in the course of his perilous adventure, he had knocked at the door of one of his principal enemies, who, in the morning, offered a reward of fifty dollars for his recapture.

Alas, for Nicole and the kind-hearted schoolmaster of Gimosac!  Brother Robin would fain have had them accompany him and share his risk, but they chose rather to remain in their fetters.  Seeing they had neither strength nor energy to follow his example, he took a sorrowful leave of them, praying with and consoling them, exhorting them to do valiantly, and to meet death with courage.  Both perished in the flames a few days after; one in the city of Saintes, and the other at Libourne.  The heart of Palissy was too full to suffer him to detail the particulars of this event.  It was the first time the fires of persecution had blazed before his eyes; and as he gazed upon the terrific sight, his soul was kindled with a zeal unquenchable, and from that time the whole force of his energy was upon the side of the Reformers.

CHAPTER IV.

“Then I went down to the potter’s house, and, behold, he wrought a work on the wheels.  And the vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter.”—Jer. xviii. 3, 4.

Shortly before the events recorded in the preceding chapter, there had been no small excitement among Palissy’s poor neighbours and acquaintance, with reference to his proceedings.  Day after day little knots of gossips might be seen, lounging about the neighbourhood of his garden and work-shed, expressing in various ways, their surprise and indignation at his conduct, and exclaiming, in no measured terms, against his obstinate and mad folly.  This indignation reached its height when, one day, the report spread, far and wide, that the poor man was actually insane, and had torn up the palings of his garden, and the planks of his dwelling-house, and that his unhappy wife, half-crazed with his conduct, had herself rushed out of the house accompanied by her children, and taken refuge with a neighbour.

In order to account for all this, it is necessary to retrace our steps, and relate in what manner our artist has been spending the two years that have intervened since his marsh-surveying.

Undaunted by the failure of his early efforts, and relieved, for a time, from anxiety on the score of domestic wants, Palissy, giving the money he had received for the execution of his task into the hands of his wife, resumed his “affection for pursuing in the track of the enamels.”

Two years of unremitting and zealous labour followed, productive of no practical results, although there had once been a partial melting of some of his compounds, which gave him sufficient encouragement to persist.  During those two long years, he tells us, he did nothing but come and go between his dwelling and the adjacent glass-houses, where the furnaces being much hotter than those of the potteries, were more likely to be successful in melting his materials.

Was it any marvel if poverty and sorrow invaded his household; if his wife grew moody and sad, and if the neighbours, pitying the hapless woman and innocent children, pronounced hard judgment upon a man who consumed his time in buying pots and breaking them, in grinding drugs and burning them, and in going to and fro upon his bootless errand?  Death, too, had once and again entered his doors, bearing away the two sickly infants we saw clinging to their mother, while in their place, two others had been born, inheriting, alas! their malady.  Of late, Lisette, full of gloomy thoughts, had taken to complaining, and remonstrating with her husband.  Her temper had been soured by disappointment and trouble; and hope, so long deferred, ceased to buoy up her spirit.  She could not understand the course Bernard was pursuing.  She did not partake in his glowing visions of future fame and prosperity, and the instinct of power and the energy of will that nerved and inspired him were all unknown to and unshared by her.  Poor suffering woman!  She felt as any other common-sense wife and mother would have felt in her circumstances; and bewailing his obstinate persistence in such profitless labour, she embittered his home by her lamentations and reproaches.

In this strait Palissy began to give way: he faltered, and at length made a compromise with his anxious helpmate.  One more last trial he pleaded for; and then—if it failed, he would abandon the search for ever!  He must have felt that the happiness as well as the fortune of his life, depended on the cast.  Rather, we learn from his own touching account of what ensued, that he looked for counsel and help from above.  In all his ways did this good man acknowledge his heavenly Father’s hand, and seek his blessing.  What befell, in this crisis, he thus tells us: “God willed that, when I had begun to lose my courage, and was gone for the last time to a glass furnace, having a man with me carrying more than 300 kinds of trial pieces, there was one among them which was melted within four hours after it had been placed in the furnace, which turned out white and polished, in a way that caused me to feel such joy as made me think I was become a new creature.”

With winged feet he flew home, bearing his treasure, which he pronounced “exceedingly beautiful,” and, almost beside himself with delight, he rushed into the chamber, where his poor wife lay in her sick bed, and holding up the shining white fragment exclaimed, “I have found it!”  Lisette caught the infection of his gladness, and hailed the first ray of returning prosperity.  Poor woman, she little knew how long she must wait before she could warm