During this discussion a few citizens of both parties were promenading near the Rhone, apparently thinking only of taking a little recreation. It was the evening of a holiday, and the setting sun poured its rays in floods of flame upon the lake. The west was on fire, the water reflected the image of the sky, and flashed with bright and flickering colours. But the citizens thought little at this moment of the beauties of nature. However great the apparent calm without, their souls were agitated by fierce passions. By degrees they entered into conversation; they spoke of religion, as was their custom; they debated with warmth, then they began to dispute and to abuse each other, and finally hands were raised and blows were struck. The sun set; the brightness died away, all grew pale round the city, and daylight was fading into darkness. The hour, so favourable for walking, had attracted many abroad; the noise drew still more. Huguenots and mamelukes, catholics and reformed, hurried to the Molard. 'What is the matter?' they asked. The parties were already forming into two distinct groups. Every one as he arrived joined his friends; they arranged themselves in order, they soon counted their numbers, and two bands drew up face to face. Some of the more impetuous went in front and excited the crowd. The gaoler of the episcopal prisons and his brother, both great brawlers, who handled the dagger cleverly, 'very riotous men' (says a manuscript) thorough bravoes of the 16th century, were among the most violent. Monks and priests of the lower rank mingled with the people in the square, while their superiors were in consultation at the vicar-episcopal's. They excited the crowd, and complained loudly that the Friburgers had hindered them on the 28th March from destroying the heretics, which, they held, would have been a necessary severity. Meanwhile the two parties, though already face to face, apparently did not think of coming to blows. One Pinet, sent by the clergy 'to apply the match, began to work upon the people.' He glided from group to group, and strove to inflame the minds of the catholics. 'Who will fight along with me on behalf of his religion?' he said. Then turning towards the huguenots, he challenged them, shouting out, with an oath: 'Your creed is a rascally one, you Lutherans! If there is a man among you willing to maintain the contrary, let him come here and fight.'[711] This challenge was repeated several times, but the reformed feared a disturbance. 'Peace has been made,' said they, 'do not break it.' Some of them added: 'Be on your guard, Pinet is a sad scamp.' Nobody would 'take the bait.' One huguenot, however, the impatient Ami Perrin, could not contain himself; provoked by the priests' agent, he rushed upon him and nearly killed him. Both huguenots and catholics ran between them to separate them. Peace was restored or at least seemed to be; but a spark had been struck out, and the fire was about to be kindled.[712]