vents outside
their walls, surrendered ignominiously, and at discretion. The only
stipulation agreed to by Noircarmes was, that the city should not be
sacked, and that the lives of the inhabitants should be spared.

This pledge was, however, only made to be broken. Noircarmes entered the
city and closed the gates. All the richest citizens, who of course were
deemed the most criminal, were instantly arrested. The soldiers, although
not permitted formally to sack the city, were quartered upon the
inhabitants, whom they robbed and murdered, according to the testimony of
a Catholic citizen, almost at their pleasure.

Michael Herlin, a very wealthy and distinguished burgher, was arrested
upon the first day. The two ministers, Guido de Bray and Peregrine de la
Grange, together with the son of Herlin, effected their escape by the
water-gate. Having taken refuge in a tavern at Saint Arnaud, they were
observed, as they sat at supper, by a peasant, who forthwith ran off to
the mayor of the borough with the intelligence that some individuals, who
looked like fugitives, had arrived at Saint Arnaud. One of them, said the
informer, was richly dressed; and wore a gold-hilted sword with velvet
scabbard. By the description, the mayor recognized Herlin the
younger,--and suspected his companions. They were all arrested, and sent
to Noircarmes. The two Herlins, father and son, were immediately
beheaded. Guido de Bray and Peregrine de la Grange were loaded with
chains, and thrown into a filthy dungeon, previously to their being
hanged. Here they were visited by the Countess de Roeulx, who was curious
to see how the Calvinists sustained themselves in their martyrdom. She
asked them how they could sleep, eat, or drink, when covered with such
heavy fetters. "The cause, and my good conscience," answered De Bray,
"make me eat, drink, and sleep better than those who are doing me wrong.
These shackles are more honorable to me than golden rings and chains.
They are more useful to me, and as I hear their clank, methinks I hear
the music of sweet voices and the tinkling of lutes."

This exultation never deserted these courageous enthusiasts. They
received their condemnation to death "as if it had been an invitation to
a marriage feast." They encouraged the friends who crowded their path to
the scaffold with exhortations to remain true in the Reformed faith. La
Grange, standing upon the ladder, proclaimed with a loud voice, that he
was slain for hav