"Will he?" the Intendant said to himself in a low, clear voice, which all heard. "Will he? Doubtless some day, but not now. For a surety not before these wolves have been tracked to their caves and exterminated--as they shall be--as they shall be."
And all watching him in the lurid light cast from the burning tower, saw that the white-gloved hands were opened and clenched again twice, as though he had the throats of those wolves he spoke of within them.
[CHAPTER XI.]
"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 Hôtel 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 Montluçon, 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.