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psalm…singers were already at his door； fifty strong； led by the
inspired Seguier； and breathing death。 To their summons； the
archpriest made answer like a stout old persecutor； and bade his
garrison fire upon the mob。 One Camisard （for； according to some；
it was in this night's work that they came by the name） fell at
this discharge： his comrades burst in the door with hatchets and a
beam of wood； overran the lower story of the house； set free the
prisoners； and finding one of them in the VINE； a sort of
Scavenger's Daughter of the place and period； redoubled in fury
against Du Chayla； and sought by repeated assaults to carry the
upper floors。 But he； on his side； had given absolution to his
men； and they bravely held the staircase。
'Children of God；' cried the prophet； 'hold your hands。 Let us
burn the house； with the priest and the satellites of Baal。'
The fire caught readily。 Out of an upper window Du Chayla and his
men lowered themselves into the garden by means of knotted sheets；
some escaped across the river under the bullets of the insurgents；
but the archpriest himself fell； broke his thigh； and could only
crawl into the hedge。 What were his reflections as this second
martyrdom drew near？ A poor； brave； besotted； hateful man； who had
done his duty resolutely according to his light both in the
Cevennes and China。 He found at least one telling word to say in
his defence； for when the roof fell in and the upbursting flames
discovered his retreat； and they came and dragged him to the public
place of the town； raging and calling him damned … 'If I be
damned；' said he； 'why should you also damn yourselves？'
Here was a good reason for the last； but in the course of his
inspectorship he had given many stronger which all told in a
contrary direction； and these he was now to hear。 One by one；
Seguier first； the Camisards drew near and stabbed him。 'This；'
they said； 'is for my father broken on the wheel。 This for my
brother in the galleys。 That for my mother or my sister imprisoned
in your cursed convents。' Each gave his blow and his reason； and
then all kneeled and sang psalms around the body till the dawn。
With the dawn； still singing； they defiled away towards Frugeres；
farther up the Tarn； to pursue the work of vengeance； leaving Du
Chayla's prison…house in ruins； and his body pierced with two…and…
fifty wounds upon the public place。
'Tis a wild night's work； with its accompaniment of psalms； and it
seems as if a psalm must always have a sound of threatening in that
town upon the Tarn。 But the story does not end； even so far as
concerns Pont de Montvert； with the departure of the Camisards。
The career of Seguier was brief and bloody。 Two more priests and a
whole family at Ladeveze； from the father to the servants； fell by
his hand or by his orders； and yet he was but a day or two at
large； and restrained all the time by the presence of the soldiery。
Taken at length by a famous soldier of fortune； Captain Poul； he
appeared unmoved before his judges。
'Your name？' they asked。
'Pierre Seguier。'
'Why are you called Spirit？'
'Because the Spirit of the Lord is with me。'
'Your domicile？'
'Lately in the desert； and soon in heaven。'
'Have you no remorse for your crimes？'
'I have committed none。 MY SOUL IS LIKE A GARDEN FULL OF SHELTER
AND OF FOUNTAINS。'
At Pont de Montvert； on the 12th of August； he had his right hand
stricken from his body； and was burned alive。 And his soul was
like a garden？ So perhaps was the soul of Du Chayla； the Christian
martyr。 And perhaps if you could read in my soul； or I could read
in yours； our own composure might seem little less surprising。
Du Chayla's house still stands； with a new roof； beside one of the
bridges of the town； and if you are curious you may see the
terrace…garden into which he dropped。
IN THE VALLEY OF THE TARN
A NEW road leads from Pont de Montvert to Florac by the valley of
the Tarn； a smooth sandy ledge； it runs about half…way between the
summit of the cliffs and the river in the bottom of the valley； and
I went in and out； as I followed it； from bays of shadow into
promontories of afternoon sun。 This was a pass like that of
Killiecrankie； a deep turning gully in the hills； with the Tarn
making a wonderful hoarse uproar far below； and craggy summits
standing in the sunshine high above。 A thin fringe of ash…trees
ran about the hill…tops； like ivy on a ruin； but on the lower
slopes； and far up every glen； the Spanish chestnut…trees stood
each four…square to heaven under its tented foliage。 Some were
planted； each on its own terrace no larger than a bed； some；
trusting in their roots； found strength to grow and prosper and be
straight and large upon the rapid slopes of the valley； others；
where there was a margin to the river； stood marshalled in a line
and mighty like cedars of Lebanon。 Yet even where they grew most
thickly they were not to be thought of as a wood； but as a herd of
stalwart individuals； and the dome of each tree stood forth
separate and large； and as it were a little hill； from among the
domes of its companions。 They gave forth a faint sweet perfume
which pervaded the air of the afternoon； autumn had put tints of
gold and tarnish in the green； and the sun so shone through and
kindled the broad foliage； that each chestnut was relieved against
another； not in shadow； but in light。 A humble sketcher here laid
down his pencil in despair。
I wish I could convey a notion of the growth of these noble trees；
of how they strike out boughs like the oak； and trail sprays of
drooping foliage like the willow； of how they stand on upright
fluted columns like the pillars of a church； or like the olive；
from the most shattered bole can put out smooth and youthful
shoots； and begin a new life upon the ruins of the old。 Thus they
partake of the nature of many different trees； and even their
prickly top…knots； seen near at hand against the sky； have a
certain palm…like air that impresses the imagination。 But their
individuality； although compounded of so many elements； is but the
richer and the more original。 And to look down upon a level filled
with these knolls of foliage； or to see a clan of old unconquerable
chestnuts cluster 'like herded elephants' upon the spur of a
mountain； is to rise to higher thoughts of the powers that are in
Nature。
Between Modestine's laggard humour and the beauty of the scene； we
made little progress all that afternoon； and at last finding the
sun； although still far from setting； was already beginning to
desert the narrow valley of the Tarn； I began to cast about for a
place to camp in。 This was not easy to find； the terraces were too
narrow； and the ground； where it was unterraced； was usually too
steep for a man to lie upon。 I should have slipped all night； and
awakened towards morning with my feet or my head in the river。
After perhaps a mile； I saw； some sixty feet above the road； a
little plateau large enough to hold my sack； and securely parapeted
by the trunk of an aged and enormous chestnut。 Thither； with
infinite trouble； I goaded and kicked the reluctant Modestine； and
there I hastened to unload her。 There was only room for myself
upon the plateau； and I had to go nearly as high again before I
found so much as standing…room for the ass。 It was on a heap of
rolling stones； on an artificial terrace； certainly not five feet
square in all。 Here I tied her to a chestnut； and having given her
corn and bread and made a pile of chestnut…leaves； of which I found
her greedy； I descended once more to my own encampment。
The position was unpleasantly exposed。 One or two carts went by
upon the road； and as long as daylight lasted I concealed myself；
for al