At the instigation of Master Isnard, still implacable, for reason of the inhospitable reception given to him by Raimond V., the consul, Talebard-Talebardon, on Saturday evening despatched a clerk to Maison-Forte des Anbiez, for the purpose of informing the baron that he was to appear the next day, Sunday, before the overseers of the port.

Raimond V. made the trembling clerk sit down to the table and take supper with him, but every time the man of the law opened his mouth to ask the baron to appear before the tribunal, the old gentleman would cry out, “Laramée, pour out some wine for my guest!”

Then he had the clerk taken back to La Ciotat somewhat intoxicated.

Interpreting the conduct of the baron according to their own view, Master Isnard and the consul saw in his refusal to answer their summons the most outrageous contempt.

The next day, which was Sunday, after the mass, at which, notwithstanding his resolution the evening before, the baron did not appear, the consuls and the recorder went through the houses of the principal citizens, exciting public sentiment against Raimond V., who had so openly braved and insulted the privileges of Proven?al communities.

Much artifice, much deceit, and a great deal of persistence on the part of Master Isnard were necessary to make the inhabitants of La Ciotat share his hostility against the lord of Maison-Forte, because the instinct of the multitude is always in sympathy with the rebellion of a lord against a lord more powerful than himself; but on account of recent disputes about fishing privileges, the recorder succeeded in arousing the indignation of the multitude.

As we have said, it was Sunday morning; after mass the overseers of the port held their sessions in the large town hall, situated near the new harbour. It was a massive, heavy building, constructed of brick, and had many small windows.

On each side rose the dwellings of the wealthiest citizens.

The site of the town hall was separated from the port by a narrow little street.

A noisy crowd of citizens, fishermen, sailors, artisans, and country people were pressing into the yard, and many had already seated themselves at the door of the town hall, so as to be present at the session of the overseers.

The citizens, instructed by the recorder, circulated in groups among the multitude, and spread the news that Raimond V. despised the rights of the people by refusing to appear before the overseers.

Master Talebard-Talebardon, one of the consuls, a large man, corpulent and florid, with a shrewd, sly look, wearing his felt hood and official robe, occupied with the recorder the centre of one of these animated groups of which we have spoken, and which was composed of men of all sorts and conditions.

“Yes, my friends,” said the consul, “Raimond V. treats Christians as he treats the dogs he hunts with. The other day he threatened this respectable Master Isnard whom you see here with his whip after having exposed him to the fury of two of the fiercest bulls from Camargne; it was a miracle that this worthy officer of the admiralty of Toulon escaped the awful peril that threatened his life,” said the consul, with an important air.

“A real miracle, for which I return thanks to Our Lady of la Garde,” added the recorder, devoutly. “I never saw such furious bulls.”

“By St Elmo, my patron!” said a sailor, “I would gladly have given my new scarf to have been a witness of that race. I have never seen bull-fights except in Barcelona.”

“Without taking into account that recorder-toreadors are very rare,” said another sailor.

Master Isnard, deeply wounded at inspiring so little interest, replied, with a doleful air, “I assure you, my friends, that it is a terrible, a formidable thing to be exposed to an attack from these ferocious animals.”

“Since you have been pursued by bulls,” asked an honest tailor, “do tell us, M. Recorder, if it is true that angry bulls have the tail curled up, and that they shut their eyes when they strike?”

Master Talebard-Talebardon shrugged his shoulders, and replied, sternly, to the inquirer:

“You think then, cut-cloth, that a person amuses himself by looking at a bull’s tail and eyes, when he is charging on him?”

“That is true, that is true,” replied several assistants. “Certain it is,” continued the consul, wishing to move the crowd to pity the recorder, and irritate it against the baron, “certain it is that this officer of justice and of the king narrowly escaped being a victim to the diabolical wickedness of Raimond V.”

“Raimond V. destroyed two litters of wolves’ whelps that ravaged our farm, to say nothing of the present he made us of the heads of the wolf and the whelps, which are nailed to our door,” said a peasant, shaking his head.

“Raimond V. is not a bad master. If the harvest fails, he comes to your aid; he replaced two draught-oxen that I lost through witchcraft.”

“That is true, when one holds out a hand to the lord of Anbiez, he never draws it back empty,” said an artisan.

“And at the time of the last descent of the pirates in this place, he and his people bravely fought the miscreants; but for him, I, my wife, and my daughter, would have been carried off by these demons,” said a citizen.

“And the two sons of the good man Jacbuin were redeemed and brought back from Barbary by good Father Elzear, the brother of Raimond V. But for him they would still have been in chains galling enough to damn their souls,” replied another.

“And the other brother, the commander, who looks as sombre as his black galley,” said a patron of a merchant vessel, “did he not keep those pagans in awe for more than two months while his galley lay soaked in the gulf? Come, a good and noble family is that of Anbiez. After all, this man of law is not one of us,” and pointed to the recorder. “What does it matter to us if he is or is not run through by a bull’s horn?”

“That is true, that is true; he is not one of us,” repeated several voices.

“Raimond V. is a good old gentleman who never refuses a pound of powder and a pound of lead to a sailor, to defend his boat,” said a sailor.

“There is always a good place at the fireside of Maison-Forte, a good glass of Sauve-chrétien wine and a piece of silver for those who go there,” said a beggar.

“And his daughter! An angel! A perfect Notre Dame for the poor people,” said another.

“Well, who in the devil denies all that?” cried the consul. “Raimond V. kills wolves because he is fond of the chase. He does not mind a piece of silver or a pound of powder or a glass of wine, because he is rich, very rich; but he does all this to hide his perfidious designs.”

“What designs?” asked several auditors.

“The design of ruining our commerce, ravaging our city, in short, doing worse than the pirates, or the Duke d’Eperaon with his Gascons,” said the consul, with a mysterious air.

All this, which he did not believe, the consul had uttered as an experiment, and the alarming disclosure of some hidden design, exciting the curiosity of the crowd, was at last listened to with attention.

“Explain that to us, consul,” said all, with one voice.

“Master Isnard, who is a man of the law, is going to explain this tissue of dark and pernicious schemes,” said Talebard-Talebardon.

The recorder came forward with an anxious air, raised his eyes to heaven, and said:

“Your worthy consul, my friends, has told you nothing but what is, unfortunately, too true. We have proofs of it.”

“Proofs!” repeated several hearers, looking at each other.

“Give me your attention. The king, our master, and monseigneur the cardinal have only one thought,—the happiness of the French people.”

“But we are not French, we are quite another thing,” said a Proven?al, proud of his nationality. “The king is not our master, he is our count.”

“You talk finely, my comrade, but listen to me, if you please,” replied the recorder. “The king, our count, not wishing to have his Proven?al communities exposed to the despotic power of the nobles and lords, has ordered us to disarm them. His Eminence remembers too well the violences of the Duke d’Epernon, of the lords of Baux, of Noirol, of Traviez, and many others. He desires now to take away from the nobility the power of injuring the people and the peasantry. Thus, for instance, his Eminence wished,—and these sovereign orders will be executed sooner or later,—he wished, I repeat, to remove from Maison-Forte, the castle of Raimond V., the cannon and small pieces of ordnance which guard the entrance of your port, and which can prevent the going out of the smallest fishing-boat.”

“But which can also prevent the entrance of pirates,” said a sailor.

“No doubt, my friends, the fire bums or purifies; the arrow kills the friend or the enemy, according to the hand which holds the crossbow. I should not have had any suspicion of Raimond V., if he had not himself unveiled to me his perfidious designs. Let us put aside his cruelty to me. I am happy to be the martyr of our sacred cause.”

“You are not a martyr, as you are still living,” said the incorrigible sailor.

“I am living at this moment,” replied the............