Some such stratagems were necessary, for the general agitation was increasing. Berquin's innocence, stamped on his features and on all his words, struck those who saw him die, and they were beginning to murmur. The monks noticed this, and had prepared themselves beforehand in case the indignation of the people should break out. They penetrated into the thickest of the crowd, making presents to the children and to the common people; and having worked them up, they sent them off in every direction. The impressionable crowd spread over the Grève and through the neighbouring streets, shouting out that Berquin was a heretic. Yet here and there men gathered in little groups, talking of the excellent man who had been sacrificed to the passion of the theological faculty. 'Alas!' said some with tears in their eyes, 'there never was a more virtuous man.'[119] Many were astonished that a nobleman who held a high place in the king's affections should be strangled like a criminal. 'Alas!' rejoined others indignantly, 'what caused his ruin was the liberty which animated him, which is always the faithful companion of a good conscience.'[120] Others of more spirit exclaimed: 'Condemn, quarter, crucify, burn, behead ... that is what pirates and tyrants can do; but God is the only just judge, and blessed is the man whom he pardoneth.' The more pious looked for consolation to the future. 'It is only through the cross,' they said, 'that Christ will triumph in this kingdom.'[121] The crowd dispersed. [Sidenote: THE MARTYRS' HYMN.] The news of this tragedy soon spread through France, everywhere causing the deepest sorrow. Berquin was not the only person struck down; other christians also suffered the last punishment. Philip Huaut was burnt alive, after having his tongue cut out; and Francis Desus had both hand and head cut off. The story of these deaths, especially that of Berquin, was told in the shops of the workmen and in the cottages of the peasants. Many were terrified at it; but more than one evangelical christian, when he heard the tale at his own fireside, raised his head and cast a look towards heaven, expressive of his joy at having a Redeemer and a _Father's house_ beyond the sky. 'We too are ready,' said these men and women of the Reformation to one another, 'we are ready to meet death cheerfully, setting our eyes on the life that is to come.' One of these christian souls, who had known Berquin best, and who shed most tears over him, was the Queen of Navarre. Distressed and alarmed by his death and by the deaths of the christians sacrificed in other places for the Gospel, she prayed fervently to God to come to the help of his people. She called to mind these words of the Gospel: _Shall not God avenge his own elect, which cry day and night unto him?_[122] A stranger to all hatred, free from every evil desire of revenge, she called to the Lord's remembrance how dear the safety of his children is to him, and implored his protection for them: