One day, about a month after Mariette had left us, I had walked out into the town during Father Bonneville’s absence from home, and was crossing the square in front of the great church. On one side of the square was the best inn in the place, and upon the steps of that inn were standing several officers of a dragoon regiment which had lately been quartered in the town. In the midst of the square, I saw a great crowd of people moving to and fro, and apparently busy and agitated. There were muskets amongst the crowd; for in those days the more ragged and poverty-stricken a man was, the more certain was he of having some weapon of offense in his hand; and amongst the rest, with a red night-cap on his head, and his shirt sleeves tucked up to the elbow, I could perceive the great stalwort figure of the butcher I have mentioned. I saw also, however, other garments than those of the mere populace. There was the black gown of a priest in the middle of the crowd, and as I approached with a faint and fearful heart, I not only saw that the mob were dragging along a priest by the arms, but also that he was good Father Bonneville. I heard shouts too of “up with him! Hang him up, hang him up! To the spout with him, to the spout!”
The officers I have mentioned were standing quietly looking on, laughing and talking with two or three of the more respectable citizens. But at the first impulse I ran toward them, caught the hand of one of the young soldiers, who seemed to bear a high rank amongst the others, and whose face was a kindly one, and with eager and terrified tones exclaimed—
“Oh, save him, sir, save him. They are going to kill the best man in all the town.”
“Who are they going to hang, boy?” asked one of the citizens in a tone of assumed indifference; for few persons ventured in those days to show any sympathy with the victims of popular fury.
“Father Bonneville,” I answered, “Oh it is Father Bonneville—Save him, save him—pray make haste!”
“He is, indeed, one of the best men in the world,” said the gentleman, with a look of deep distress.
The young officer, however, without more ado, ran down the steps and plunged into the crowd. One or two of his companions followed, I saw a sudden pause in the mob, and heard a great outcry of voices; some apparently in persuasion, others in mere brute clamor. A moment after, however, while the parties seemed still disputing, a squadron of dragoons came into the square, and their appearance, though they took no part in what was going on, seemed to have a great effect upon the mob. A number of the ragged ruffians dropped off every moment, some walking away down the street, singing ribald songs, some coming up to the soldiers, and speaking a word or two to them as if to show that they were not afraid, but walking away in the end. At length, however, I had the satisfaction to see the young officer emerge from the little crowd that remained, holding Father Bonneville by the arm, while another of the dragoon officers walked on the good priest’s other side. The only one who followed them was the butcher, and he continued pursuing them with execration and abuse till they reached the steps of the inn, in which they lodged the good Father for the time. The young officer made no reply to all the ribald language with which he was assailed, except on the inn steps, where he turned, and said in a calm tone—
“It may be all very true, but proceed according to law. If he has refused to take the oath required, he can and will be punished for it, but you are not to be the judge, and shall not break the law while I am in command of this town.”
Thus saying, without waiting for any answer, he walked into the inn, and I ran after Father Bonneville. The good old man was somewhat out of breath with the rough handling he had received, but I could not perceive any traces of fear or great agitation either in his face or manner. As soon as the young officer and I entered the back-room in which he had taken refuge, he held out his hand kindly to me, but addressed his first words to the other.
“I have to thank you much, my son,” he said. “I do believe if you had been two minutes later those poor misguided people would have hanged me.”