"Beloved sons in Jesus Christ!" stammered Gaudry, who, upon his knees, extended his hands towards the communiers. "I swear to you upon the gospels and upon my eternal salvation, I shall uphold your Commune! Have pity upon me!"
"Liar, renegade!" yelled back the enraged communiers. "We know what your oath is worth. Swindler and hypocrite!"
"You shall pay with your life for the blood of our people that has flowed to-day! Justice! Justice!"
"Yes, justice and vengeance in the name of the women, who this morning had husbands, and this evening are widows!"
"Justice and vengeance in the name of the children, who this morning had fathers, and this evening are orphans!"
"Oh, Gaudry, you and yours have by dint of perjuries and untold outrages tired the patience of the people! Your hour has sounded!"
"Which of us is it that wanted war, you or we? Did you listen to our prayers? Did you have pity for the peace of our city? No! Well, then, neither shall there be pity for you! Death to the bishop!"
"My good friends ... grant me my life," repeated the bishop, whose teeth chattered with terror. "Oh! I pray you!... Grant me my life! I ... I shall renounce the bishopric.... I shall leave this city.... You shall never see my face again.... Only leave me my life!"
"Did you show mercy to my brother Gerhard, whose eyes were put out by your orders?" cried a communier, seizing the prelate by the collar and shaking him with fury. "Infamous criminal! Did you have pity for him?"
"Did you have mercy for my friend Robert of the Mill, who was stabbed to death by Black John?" added another insurgent. And the two accusers seized the prelate, who quietly allowed himself to be dragged upon his knees, "You shall die in the face of the sun that has witnessed your crimes!"