"Perfectly, sir. You are president of the infamous parliament of Toulouse. I am a Huguenot officer, and you are my prisoner. You need not look so indignant; better men than you have been dragged from their homes, to prison and death, by your orders. Now it is your turn to be a prisoner.
"I might, if I chose, set fire to this chateau, and cut the throats of all in it; but we do not murder in the name of God. We leave that to you.
"Take this man away with you, Eustace. I give him into your charge. If he struggles, or offers the least resistance, stab him to the heart."
"You will at least give me time to dress, sir?" the president said.
"Not a moment," Philip replied. "The night is warm, and you will do very well, as you are.
"As for you," he went on, turning to the servants, "you will remain quiet until morning; and if any of you dare to leave the house, you will be slain without mercy. You can assure your mistress that she will not be long without the society of your master; for in all probability he will be returned, safe and sound, before midday tomorrow. One of you may fetch your master's cloak, since he seems to fear the night air."
The doors were opened and they issued out, Philip bidding the servants close and bar them behind them. When they reached the horses, the prisoner was handed over to D'Arblay's lackey, who placed the noose round his neck, and gave him warning as Philip had instructed him. Then they set off, Pierre with the guide again leading the way.
Before morning they had ten prisoners in their hands. In one or two cases the servants had attempted opposition, but they were speedily overpowered, and the captures were all effected without loss of life. The party then moved away about a mile, and the prisoners were allowed to sit down. Several of them were elderly men, and Philip picked these out, by the light of two torches they had brought from the last house, and ordered the ropes to be removed from their necks.
"I should regret, gentlemen," he said, "the indignity that I have been forced to place upon you, had you been other than you are. It is well, however, that you should have felt, though in a very slight degree, something of the treatment that you have all been instrumental in inflicting upon blameless men and women, whose only fault was that they chose to worship God in their own way. You may thank your good fortune at having fallen into the hands of one who has had no dear friends murdered in the prisons of Toulouse. There are scores of men who would have strung you up without mercy, thinking it a righteous retribution for the pitiless cruelties of which the parliament of Toulouse has been guilty.
"Happily for you, though I regard you with loathing as pitiless persecutors, I have no personal wrongs to avenge. Your conscience will tell you that, fallen as you have into the hands of Huguenots, you could only expect death; but it is not for the purpose of punishment that you have been captured. You are taken as hostages. My friends, the Count de Laville and the Sieur D'Arblay, were yesterday carried prisoners into Toulouse; and with them Monsieur de Merouville, whose only fault was that he had afforded them a night's shelter. His innocent wife was also dragged away with him.