came suddenly sobered and conscious of the
enormity of his act. He called madly for death from the raging crowd. He
held out his hands for chains to bind a murderer, as he called himself!
But no one would strike him or offer to bind him. The wrath of the
people was so mingled with blank astonishment at his demeanor, his grief
and his despair were so evidently genuine and so deep, that many said he
was mad, and more an object of pity than of punishment.

At his own reiterated command, he was given over to the hands of some
soldiers and led off, followed by a great crowd of people, to the main
guard of the Castle of St. Louis, where he was left a prisoner, while
another portion of the multitude gathered about the scene of the
tragedy, surrounded the body of the Bourgeois, which was lifted off the
ground and borne aloft on men's shoulders, followed by wild cries and
lamentations to the House of the Golden Dog,--the house which he had
left but half an hour before, full of life, vigor and humanity, looking
before and after as a strong man looks who has done his duty, and who
feels still able to take the world upon his shoulders and carry it, if
need were.

The sad procession moved slowly on amid the pressing, agitated crowd,
which asked and answered a hundred eager questions in a breath. The two
poor Recollet brothers, Daniel and Ambrose, walked side by side before
the bleeding corpse of their friend, and stifled their emotions by
singing, in a broken voice that few heard but themselves, the words of
the solitary hymn of St. Francis d'Assisi, the founder of their order:

"Praised be the Lord, by our sweet sister Death,
From whom no man escapes, howe'er he try!
Woe to all those who yield their parting breath
In mortal sin! But blessed those who die
Doing thy will in that decisive hour!
The second death o'er such shall have no power.
Praise, blessing, and thanksgiving to my Lord!
For all He gives and takes be He adored!"

Dame Rochelle heard the approaching noise and tumult. She looked out
of the window and could see the edge of the crowd in the market-place
tossing to and fro like breakers upon a rocky shore. The people in the
streets were hurrying towards the market. Swarms of men employed in the
magazines of the Bourgeois were running out of the edifice towards the
same spot.

The dame divined at once that something had happened to her master. She
uttered a