consisting　mostly　of　women　dressed　as　men；　Du　Chayla；　in　an　evil
  hour　for　himself；　laid　his　hands。　　The　Sunday　following；　there　was
  a　conventicle　of　Protestants　in　the　woods　of　Altefage　upon　Mount
  Bouges；　where　there　stood　up　one　Seguier　…　Spirit　Seguier；　as　his
  companions　called　him　…　a　wool…carder；　tall；　black…faced；　and
  toothless；　but　a　man　full　of　prophecy。　　He　declared；　in　the　name　of
  God；　that　the　time　for　submission　had　gone　by；　and　they　must　betake
  themselves　to　arms　for　the　deliverance　of　their　brethren　and　the
  destruction　of　the　priests。
  The　next　night；　24th　July　1702；　a　sound　disturbed　the　Inspector　of
  Missions　as　he　sat　in　his　prison…house　at　Pont　de　Montvert：　　the
  voices　of　many　men　upraised　in　psalmody　drew　nearer　and　nearer
  through　the　town。　　It　was　ten　at　night；　he　had　his　court　about　him；
  priests；　soldiers；　and　servants；　to　the　number　of　twelve　or
  fifteen；　and　now　dreading　the　insolence　of　a　conventicle　below　his
  very　windows；　he　ordered　forth　his　soldiers　to　report。　　But　the
  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　lon