The news of this crime had a strange and unexpected effect; however excited and frenzied the crowd was, it instantly realised the consequences of this act.  It was no longer like the murder of Marshal Brune at Avignon or General Ramel at Toulouse, an act of vengeance on a favourite of Napoleon, but open and armed rebellion against the king.  It was not a simple murder, it was high treason.

A feeling of the utmost terror spread through the town; only a few fanatics went on howling in the church, which the Protestants, fearing still greater disasters, had by this time resolved to abandon.  The first to come out was President Olivier Desmonts, accompanied by M. Vallongues, who had only just arrived in the city, but who had immediately hurried to the spot at the call of duty.

M. Juillerat, his two children in his arms, walked behind them, followed by all the other worshippers.  At first the crowd, threatening and ireful, hooted and threw stones at them, but at the voice of the mayor and the dignified aspect of the president they allowed them to pass.  During this strange retreat over eighty Protestants were wounded, but not fatally, except a young girl called Jeannette Cornilliere, who had been so beaten and ill-used that she died of her injuries a few days later.

In spite of the momentary slackening of energy which followed the assassination of General Lagarde, the Catholics did not remain long in a state of total inaction.  During the rest of the day the excited populace seemed as if shaken by an earthquake.  About six o’clock in the evening, some of the most desperate characters in the town possessed themselves of a hatchet, and, taking their way to the Protestant church, smashed the doors, tore the pastors’ gowns, rifled the poor-box, and pulled the books to pieces.  A detachment of troops arrived just in time to prevent their setting the building on fire.

The next day passed more quietly.  This time the disorders were of too important a nature for the prefect to ignore, as he had ignored so many bloody acts in the past; so in due time a full report was laid before the king.  It became know the same evening that General Lagarde was still living, and that those around him hoped that the wound would not prove mortal.  Dr. Delpech, who had been summoned from Montpellier, had succeeded in extracting the bullet, and though he spoke no word of hope, he did not expressly declare that the case was hopeless.

Two days later everything in the town had assumed its ordinary aspect, and on the 21st of November the king issued the following edict:—­

“Louis, by the grace of God, King of France and of Navarre,

“To all those to whom these presents shall come, greeting: