The king's orders command us to condemn you to the galleys, without any reference to the action which you committed at Quievrain, for in that case the punishment would have been still more severe. Thus, gentlemen, whether you make your abjuration or not, it is the king's wish that you should be condemned to the galleys for life. It is, however, free to you to make your abjuration; we shall indeed praise so pious an action, but at the same time we declare to you that it will not save you from going to the galleys." Upon which these gentlemen replied that if such was the state of affairs, they would give up the design of making their abjuration. "Good Catholics!" replied the president, and he ordered them to be taken back to their cell. We beheld our former would-be proselytes return with an air of extreme consternation, making pitiful lamentations, and remorseful reflections upon their weakness in every respect. The parliament expedited their prosecution, and in less than a week their sentence was read, condemning them to the galleys for life. The day after four archers came to conduct them to Lille, in Flanders, where the chain of galley slaves assembled. It was a strange and pitiful sight to see these gentlemen, all laced and in scarlet coats, manacled and bound with cords, traversing on foot, between the four archers, the large town of Tournay, which they could scarcely get through on account of the large concourse of people assembled in the streets to see this tragic occurrence, for every one firmly believed that these two gentlemen be

longed to the highest nobility in France. Thus, on foot, were they conducted to Lille, five leagues from Tournay. They were placed in the dreadful dungeon of the galley slaves, in the town of St. Pierre, which frightful prison I will describe in its proper place. These gentlemen, however, did not remain there long. The Jesuits of Lille (for these fathers know everything) came to visit them, and having asked them whether they would become Roman Catholics, if in such case they could obtain their pardon from the court, they consented at once. Upon this the Jesuits requested the provost of Lille, who had charge of the galley slaves, to give these gentlemen up to their convent, to be instructed there and make their solemn abjuration, guaranteeing that after this ceremony they would deliver them back to prison. The provost willingly consented. Thus these weak and lukewarm souls again fell into apostacy.

They were three weeks with the Jesuits. These fathers, after having instructed them in the principles of the Roman religion, and having made them utter the most horrible blasphemies against the reformed faith, and the most fearful imprecations against Calvin and his doctrines, obliged them to make a public and very pompous abjuration, having invited to it the elite of the garrison of Lille, and all the persons of consideration in the town. After this they brought them back to the prison, not to the dungeon of the galley slaves, but into a comfortable and well furnished room, which cost six pistoles a month

with board, all at the expense of the Jesuits, or, rather, of those people of distinction in the town among whom these good fathers made a collection for that purpose. Next they petitioned the court for their pardon, thinking to get it by main force. But they were deceived in this, for the king flatly refused, and ordered that the sentence should be rigorously carried out. The Jesuits did not rest here. They moved heaven and earth to obtain the pardon. Their solicitations reached Madame de Maintenon. To this lady they exaggerated, saying that these gentlemen belonged to one of the highest noble families in Perigord, that their offence at Quievrain, which had so incensed the king, was rather an act of youthful folly, than a premeditated design to insult his majesty, and finally that these two gentlemen were the two best Catholics in France. This lady, thus persuaded by the Jesuits, asked their pardon from the king, who granted it to her with an infantry lieutenant's commission for Rivasson, and one in the dragoons for Sorbier; but, at the same time, with this restriction. towards the latter, that he should remain in prison six weeks after the pardon, while his friend was set at liberty immediately. It appeared that the most guilty was the best rewarded, for a lieutenancy of dragoons is worth more than one in the infantry; but perhaps the king considered Sorbier's audacity fitting to the dragoons-at least such was the judgment passed upon the affair at Lille. Rivasson kept his friend company during his six weeks in prison, although he was free to go out when he

wished; but he desired to show this mark of generosity to his friend, which everybody praised and approved of. When the six weeks had expired, they were set at liberty, visited their friends and benefactors, and set off for their regiments. Afterwards we learned that they were both killed at the battle of Hekeren. Such was the end of these two gentlemen, whose honourable death, in my opinion, is the only glorious incident in their history.

Persons of talent and penetration who read this narrative may find food in it for just and useful reflection, in considering the conduct of MM. Rivasson and Sorbier, and the judgments of God, who sooner or later punishes scandalous crimes, especially that of apostacy, which is the most atrocious of all those which can be committed against his Divinity. For myself, I am content with writing down the facts simply and truthfully, leaving to each of my readers to form his judgment as he pleases. I now resume the thread of my narrative, as regards my dear companion in suffering and myself.

[The Autobiography is here resumed.]

ORBIER and Rivasson prevented us from dying of hunger, as I have already said. We knew that they had plenty of money, and the fear that we should be again reduced to starvation after their departure, made me supplicate them with clasped hands to leave us three or four louis d'or. I told them that I would write out an order, so that my father would repay them at Bergerac. But they were so hard-hearted that they would only leave us half a louis, which I gave back to them when we met in the prisons of Lille, in Flanders, a few days before their release. We economised this half louis d'or extremely, eating nothing but bread. However, we had no time to spend it in the parliament prison, for we were transferred to the prison of the town, named Le Beffroi, for the following reasons:

The river Scheldt traverses the town of Tournay. On the south side of this river stands the parliament house, and this side is in the diocese of the Archbishopric of Cambrai; the other part of the town, to the north of the river, is in that of the Bishop of Tournay. I have already said that the curé of the parish in which the prison was situated sometimes came to visit us, rather to see if our opinions on religion were changing, than to exhort us by good reasons to renounce them. The Bishop of Tournay having heard of the indifference, or, rather, the negligence and ignorance of this curé in converting