'Good!' thought the lieutenant-criminal, 'he wished to hide his books from us, because he felt himself guilty of heresy.' Having seized them, he left the house, and putting the papers in a place of safety, went to look for other victims. If there was one man in Paris who could not be suspected of having fixed up the placards, it was the poor paralytic: he could hardly leave his bed. That was of no consequence; and Bartholomew Milon was one of the first towards whose house Morin turned his steps. He had had him in his prisons before this; 'but,' says the _Book of Martyrs_, 'the Lord had delivered him to make him serve for the consolation of his people in this bitter season.' The lieutenant-criminal knew the shoemaker's shop very well; it was noted down in his books. He entered, like one out of his mind and foaming with rage, into the room where poor Berthelot was lying. 'Come, get up!' he cried, looking fiercely at him. Bartholomew, 'not being terrified by the hideous face of the tyrant,' replied, with a sweet smile: 'Alas! sir, it wants a greater master than you to make me rise.'—'Take this fellow away,' said the brute to his creatures, and after ordering them to carry with them a piece of furniture in which the paralytic kept his papers, he continued his inglorious campaign. [Sidenote: ARRESTS.] The lieutenant-criminal now proceeded towards the gate of St. Denis, to the sign of the _Black Horse_, and entered the shop of the wealthy tradesman, Du Bourg. When they caught sight of him, all who had any employment there were startled; but although they loved their master well, no one stirred to defend him. The draper's wife, daughter of another rich tradesman named Favereau, was not so tranquil: bursting into tears and shrieking, she conjured the cruel Morin not to take her husband away. Nothing could soften him, and he arrested Du Bourg. 'He is one of those who pasted up the papers at the corners of the streets,' said the lieutenant, and took him away. Next came the turn of the poor bricklayer, Poille, who was captured in his wretched hut. After them many persons without distinction of rank or sex were shut up—those who had condemned the placards as well as those who had approved of them. Informers were not wanting; they were given a fourth part of the property of the accused, and accordingly these _quadruplers_ (as they were called)[228] were indefatigable in hunting out victims; each of them could be accuser and witness in one. It was a reign of terror, and all good people were astounded at it.