It had been easy work, that condemnation of so terrible a malefactor; there had been no need of search or torture to prove the guilt both of mistress and maid. Justice moves quickly when there is a powerful arm behind to arrange the machinery, and Guillaume de Coray was already looked upon as Sieur de Mereac, seeing that Yvon was reported to have died in agonies, shrieking for vengeance against his guilty sister. And vengeance he should have; the good folk of Martigue and Mereac were determined on that, promising themselves a day’s holiday and enjoyment into the bargain. That the day itself should be so tempestuous was but another proof of the witches’ guilt and malevolence; clearly it had been raised by demon power to arrest the course of justice. But justice should not be arrested. Pile high the faggots!—yes! higher,—higher! Parbleu! what a blaze there would be!—how they would shriek and curse!—how they would writhe and groan! The prospect, appealing to the savagery of ignorant natures, thrilled all with pleasurable excitement and delight. Some wondered if the fiend himself would appear to carry his devotees away; others looked forward to hearing hideous confessions wrung from writhing lips by the torture of the flames. Altogether there were few to pity two young and beautiful girls who were going forth to die a cruel death, so fiercely ran the passions and superstitions of the peasantry of the age. Yet there were those in the little town whose hearts beat in the agony of horror and suspense, and whose eyes were turned, not on the grim spectacle preparing in the market-place, but upon the wild heath which stretched away westwards, half hidden by the blinding rain and wind. Close to the gates stood Job Alloadec and a small knot of men of Mereac who were loyal to their unfortunate young mistress. Even if the help for which they looked came not, Gwennola de Mereac and Marie his sister should not die alone that day in the market-place,—so Job had sworn, with hands held fast in the hands of those who promised to stand side by side with him. But out yonder, through the mist and rain, a man rode hastily along the road to Rennes. The peasants tramping towards Martigue wondered amongst themselves as they watched him gallop by. It was urgent business, they said one to another, which sent a man away from Martigue that day! and therewith they fell afresh to speculations on what would occur when the witches of Mereac met their doom. But on galloped the horseman, with spurs in his horse’s flanks and his mouth tight set as if he rode on a matter of life and death. Yes! and life and death it was to be for some that day in the little town behind him.