"CONSORTING WITH HERETICS."

It was midnight when all rode into Alais, and the iron shoes of the horses clattering on the cobble-stones of the street woke from their beds the few who were asleep.

There were, indeed, not many who slept that night at this hour, since all knew that the fanatics, as they were invariably termed by those of the vicinity who were not of the Protestant religion, had descended from the mountains upon Montvert and had slain the abbé. Also all knew that, two hours before sunset, the dreaded Baville had gone forth escorted by de Peyre and his cavalry as well as by the milice of the province--gone forth to inflict a terrible vengeance on the murderers. Had they done so? they asked each other feverishly now as the dragoons rode in, the rattle of hoofs and scabbards and bridle chains deadening the whispers they addressed to each other. Had they done so?

Perhaps it was not strange that here, in this little town nestling in its rich valleys, the slopes of whose hills were covered with cornfields and vineyards and chestnut woods, the beauty of which was so extreme that in the language of the Cévenoles it was termed the Hort Dieu, or, in purer French, Le Jardin de Dieu, all should have whispered their imaginings, since it was in Alais particularly that religious opinion was much divided, the Reformed faith numbering nearly as many adherents as the Romish. Whispered their imaginings because each feared the hostile ears to which their uttered thoughts and ideas might penetrate, none knowing as yet which side was to prevail in the great struggle. For if Baville had destroyed the Camisards, retribution would be swift and strong on all who were Huguenots; if, on the contrary, he had failed, those of the older faith might expect to find themselves victims of an awful retaliation before another night had come.

At first none could discover aught. The dragoons with their leaders and the two men--one old, the other young, who seemed like prisoners--swept onward to the H?tel de Ville. Soon the streets became quiet again and all within the houses sought their beds, though, perhaps, with not much hope of obtaining any rest.

If, however, they did so hope, they were doomed to disappointment.

For scarce had the clatter of the men led by de Peyre died on their ears, scarce had the horses' hoofs ceased to ring down the streets, than another hubbub arose. More trampling of cavalry and the ringing of iron shoes upon the cobble-paved road was heard, more jangling of accoutrements and more shouts and calls; also the blare of trumpets and the deep, heavy roll of artillery over the stony streets. Whereon many who had but just laid down upon their beds sprang up again and, huddling on their garments, ran to their windows and doors, the Protestants asking if this were some fresh force arriving to add to their persecutions, the Catholics wondering if the fanatics had descended from the mountains again and were besieging the town? Yet soon the latter were assured that such could not be the case, while, to counterbalance the other's feeling of safety, the Protestants trembled more and more, not knowing what fresh horrors were preparing for them, for all saw at a glance these were no mountaineers clad in their white sheepskins, nor Camisards, but, instead, regular troops well equipped and armed and uniformed. Also all knew that the attroupés had no artillery or horses. With different feelings, each watched, therefore, this new arrival of soldiers and saw go by the fierce dragoons of Joyeuse, the fusileers of Montlu?on, the regiments of Saultz and Bearne, and one of light-horse from the far north--the chevaux-légers of Bapaume; saw, too, the artillery organized by St.-Hilaire, now dead.

"God help us!" the Protestants said, trembling behind their blinds, "God help us! was this needed too?" while one old man, crouching behind the fountain in the market place, whispered to another, "Those great guns! those great guns! See! Are they to blow our houses down above our heads?"

"Tush!" exclaimed a tall man standing by their side, a fellow bronzed and black from the winds of many wintry storms as well as from the scorching rays of the southern sun. "Tush! they are for the children of God, up there," and he turned a dark gleaming eye toward the dusky summits above the little town, over which by now there was stealing a cold gray that told of the coming of the summer morning. "Fear not for yourself, or them up there. Baville's roads are not yet made and never will be. Let us see that artillery mount into the Cévennes," and he laughed scornfully, some might have deemed cruelly.

Shrinking away from his great form, half in fear, half with dawning intelligence, the old man said: "You speak thus, as though you were of the persecuted--yet--yet--you wear the garments of--of--the valleys, the clothes of townsmen."

But the swarthy stranger only muttered:

"Peace, old man, and be silent. Has not the quarry worn the garb of the hunter before now?" Then he moved away and was lost in the crowd which had gathered afresh.

Ahead of all--of artillery, dragoons, chevaux-légers--there rode one who, but for the richness of his apparel his scarlet coat glistening with stars and traversed by a great ribbon, his hat laced and cockaded with galloon until none of the felt was visible, his gold-hilted and long quilloned sword, might, judging from his fierce looks, himself have been a refugee of the mountain plateaux and deserts above. A man with a great face in which were set fierce rolling eyes, a man from whose heavily moustached mouth there issued oaths whenever he opened it.

This was Julien, one of Louis' field marshals, who, because of his having left the Protestant faith to embrace that of the king, was spoken of in all the lands where the Protestants sheltered themselves as "Julien the Apostate." Also he was spoken of by them with hatred and loathing since once no better soldier of Protestantism had ever existed or, under William of Orange, had done better service. But William, the great champion of Protestantism, was dead now, and Julien, whose love for wealth was unquenchable, had learned that Roman Catholicism was the most paying game. Thus it was that he came this night into his own part of the country, since he was of old family in the town of Orange itself, to lay waste and to slaughter all who held the faith which he himself had once held. He was a true pervert!

With an oath he turned to the aide-de-camp who rode behind him and asked where this accursed Baville was, bidding him ride forward at once and see what preparations had been made for the reception of his forces. Bade him also ask if every Protestant house had been put under orders to accommodate them.

"For," he said to himself, "they must pay for their contumacy fasse Dieu! We should have good feeding here. The vagabonds are rich in all good things in this town. We must have our share."

* * * * * * *

The next day dawned bright and fair with still no speck in the blue sky toward which the great mountains lifted their heads, and with the bright sun over all--over vineyards full of their ripening grapes, over meadows in which the cattle stood under the shadows of the chestnut trees that dotted them at intervals--lighting up, too, the cool dark woods that clothed the slopes. Also it peered into old and dusty houses, shining in on the ancient furniture and vessels that generation after generation had prized and polished regularly and been proud of.

It shone, too, into another spot--the principal chamber of the H?tel de Ville, where on this bright July morning were assembled all the representatives of law and order in the province, Baville at their head.

He was seated now in the presidential chair of this apartment, which served as the debating room for all things connected with the municipal affairs of the town; on either side of him sat his colleagues, the field marshal being on his left hand, the bishop of the diocese, which was a newly created one, on his right. Also the mayor was there and de Peyre, several Catholic priests, and half a dozen monks of various orders who had followed in Julien's train, they being sent down by the De Maintenon because of their gifts of preaching. For, true to her colours, the unproclaimed queen pretended on all occasions that the cruelties which were practised in the south were repugnant to her, and that it was by listening to the word of God alone, as expounded by eminent churchmen chosen by herself, that she trusted to witness the conversion of the heretics. Yet, if all written records on the subject are true, it was she who had first spurred on Louvois to give the order to "saccagez les hérétiques," and had, after his death, persuaded Chamillart, Bossuet, and Le Dieudonné himself to continue the Holy Crusade in the same manner.

Whether it was because Baville meant upon this occasion that there should be no doubt in Julien's mind as to who was the absolute chief here and representative of the king, the field marshal having already on their meeting overnight uttered some very decided opinions upon what steps should at once be taken in Languedoc for the stamping out of heresy, or whether it was from his determination to make an altogether splendid figure among the ecclesiastics and handsomely apparelled officers, he himself presented a dazzling appearance on the occasion. His costume was now entirely of white satin, the gold lilies being stamped upon it at various intervals and............