But the secret of the worthy prelate’s hiding place was but badly kept by those with whom he had treated; for in a few moments a second crowd appeared, hoping to obtain a second ransom.  Unfortunately, the Sieur de Sauvignargues, the bishop, and the bishop’s servants had stripped themselves of all their ready money to make up the first, so the master of the house, fearing for his own safety, having barricaded the doors, got out into a lane and escaped, leaving the bishop to his fate.  The Huguenots climbed in at the windows, crying, “No quarter!  Down with the Papists!” The bishop’s servants were cut down, the bishop himself dragged out of the cellar and thrown into the street.  There his rings and crozier were snatched from him; he was stripped of his clothes and arrayed in a grotesque and ragged garment which chanced to be at hand; his mitre was replaced by a peasant’s cap; and in this condition he was dragged back to the palace and placed on the brink of the well to be thrown in.  One of the assassins drew attention to the fact that it was already full.  “Pooh!” replied another, “they won’t mind a little crowding for a bishop.”  Meantime the prelate, seeing he need expect no mercy from man, threw himself on his knees and commended his soul to God.  Suddenly, however, one of those who had shown himself most ferocious during the massacre, Jean Coussinal by name, was touched as if by miracle with a feeling of compassion at the sight of so much resignation, and threw himself between the bishop and those about to strike, and declaring that whoever touched the prelate must first overcome himself, took him under his protection, his comrades retreating in astonishment.  Jean Coussinal raising the bishop, carried him in his arms into a neighbouring house, and drawing his sword, took his stand on the threshold.

The assassins, however, soon recovered from their surprise, and reflecting that when all was said and done they were fifty to one, considered it would be shameful to let themselves be intimidated by a single opponent, so they advanced again on Coussinal, who with a back-handed stroke cut off the head of the first-comer.  The cries upon this redoubled, and two or three shots were fired at the obstinate defender of the poor bishop, but they all missed aim.  At that moment Captain Bouillargues passed by, and seeing one man attacked by fifty, inquired into the cause.  He was told of Coussinal’s odd determination to save the bishop.  “He is quite right,” said the captain; “the bishop has paid ransom, and no one has any right to touch him.”  Saying this, he walked up to Coussinal, gave him his hand, and the two entered the house, returning in a few moments with the bishop between them.  In this order they crossed the town, followed by the murmuring crowd, who were, however, afraid to do more than murmur; at the gate the bishop was provided with an escort and let go, his defenders remaining there till he was out of sight.