The harangue had much effect upon his hearers, who were now more than ever determined to rebel against the government which they had so recently accepted, preferring, in the words of the Prior, “to be maltreated by their prince, rather than to be barbarously tyrannized over by a heretic.”  So much anger had been excited in celestial minds by a demand of thirty-five hundred florins.

Saint Aldegonde was entertained in the evening at a great banquet, followed by a theological controversy, in which John Sarrasin complained that “he had been attacked upon his own dunghill.”  Next day the distinguished patriot departed on a canvassing tour among the principal cities; the indefatigable monk employing the interval of his absence in aggravating the hostility of the Artesian orders to the pecuniary demands of the general government.  He was assisted in his task by a peremptory order which came down from Brussels, ordering, in the name of Matthias, a levy upon the ecclesiastical property, “rings, jewels, and reliquaries,” unless the clerical contribution should be forthcoming.  The rage of the bench was now intense, and by the time of Saint Aldegonde’s return a general opposition had been organized.  The envoy met with a chilling reception; there were no banquets anymore—­no discussions of any kind.  To his demands for money, “he got a fine nihil,” said Saint Vaast; and as for polemics, the only conclusive argument for the country would be, as he was informed on the same authority, the “finishing of Orange and of his minister along with him.”  More than once had the Prior intimated to government—­as so many had done before him—­that to “despatch Orange, author of all the troubles,” was the best preliminary to any political arrangement.  From Philip and his Governor-General, down to the humblest partisan, this conviction had been daily strengthening.  The knife or bullet of an assassin was the one thing needful to put an end to this incarnated rebellion.

Thus matters grew worse and worse in Artois.  The Prior, busier than ever in his schemes, was one day arrested along with other royal emissaries, kept fifteen days “in a stinking cellar, where the scullion washed the dishes,” and then sent to Antwerp to be examined by the states-general.  He behaved with great firmness, although he had good reason to tremble for his neck.  Interrogated by Leoninus on the part of the central government, he boldly avowed that these pecuniary demands upon the Walloon estates, and particularly upon their ecclesiastical branches, would never be tolerated.  “In Alva’s time,” said Sarrasin, “men were flayed, but not shorn.”  Those who were more attached to their skin than their fleece might have thought the practice in the good old times of the Duke still more objectionable.  Such was not the opinion of the Prior and the rest of his order.  After an unsatisfactory examination and a brief duresse, the busy ecclesiastic was released; and as his secret labors had not been detected, he resumed them after his return more ardently than ever.