It was needful to
show that, even if he had done wrong and imitated Des Chauffours, he
had been the sport of some enchantment. The documents were but too
plain. By the wording of the Canon Law, and after these late decrees,
somebody ought to be burnt. Of the five magistrates on the bench, two
only would have burnt Girard. Three were against Cadiere. They came to
terms. The three who formed the majority would not insist on burning
her, would forego the long, dreadful scene at the stake, would content
themselves with a simple award of death.

In the name of these five, it was settled, pending the final assent of
Parliament, "That Cadiere, having first been put to the torture in
both kinds, should afterwards be removed to Toulon, and suffer death
by hanging on the Place des Precheurs."

This was a dreadful blow. An immense revulsion of feeling at once took
place. The worldlings, the jesters ceased to laugh: they shuddered.
Their love of trifling did not lead them to slur over a result so
horrible. That a girl should be seduced, ill-used, dishonoured,
treated as a mere toy, that she should die of grief, or of frenzy,
they had regarded as right and good; with all that they had no
concern. But when it was a case of punishment, when in fancy they saw
before them the woeful victim, with rope round her neck, by the
gallows where she was about to hang, their hearts rose in revolt. From
all sides went forth the cry, "Never, since the world began, was there
seen so villanous a reversal of things; the law of rape administered
the wrong way, the girl condemned for having been made a tool, the
victim hanged by her seducer!"

In this town of Aix, made up of judges, priests, and the world of
fashion, a thing unforeseen occurred: a whole people suddenly rose, a
violent popular movement was astir. A crowd of persons of every class
marched in one close well-ordered body straight towards the Ursulines.
Cadiere and her mother were bidden to show themselves. "Make yourself
easy, mademoiselle," they shouted: "we stand by you: fear nothing!"

The grand eighteenth century, justly called by Hegel the "reign of
mind," was still grander as the "reign of humanity." Ladies of
distinction, such as the granddaughter of Mde. de Sevigne, the
charming Madame de Simiane, took possession of the young girl and
sheltered her in their bosoms.

A thing yet prettier and more touching was it, to see the Jansenist
ladies, elsewhile so sternly pure, so hard t