One day, in the year 1530, when he was at Nuremberg on business, a rich merchant of that city, a sound protestant, who had no love for relics, had given him a valuable reliquary in payment of a debt.[508] As Lyons was noted for its devotion, Baudichon, who cared little for the object and looked at it only as an article of merchandise, thought it might fetch a good price in that city, and happening to go there not long after, offered the little box to a money-changer. He would have done better to have refused it at Nuremberg, but Christian wisdom was then only dawning upon him. The money-changer took up the article and examined it devoutly. On the top was an image of St. James in silver, ‘carefully wrought,’ and weighing about four marks. Underneath was the reliquary: a box of silver with a glass allowing the inside to be seen, and some little parchment labels indicating the names of the saints whose relics were contained within. The Lyons money-changer looked with adoration on the precious remains of St. Christopher, St. Syriac, and another. He took off his cap, made a bow to the relics, and kissed them devoutly; and as his wife and children had clustered round him with pious curiosity, he made each of them kiss the sacred remains. Turning to Maisonneuve, he said: ‘Sir Baudichon, I am surprised that you should bring me this relic in such a manner.’ Maisonneuve replied: ‘It is very likely they are the bones of some ordinary body which the priests give the people to kiss to deceive them.’ At these words, an apprentice, of the age of eighteen, a very bigoted youth, left the shop indignant, and sat down on a bench in the street. The changer having paid Baudichon seventy livres tournois for his merchandise, the huguenot departed. But as he was passing in front of the bench, the apprentice, unable to restrain his anger, insulted him. Maisonneuve was content to reply that if he was in Geneva, ‘he would give him relics for nothing.’ This affair began to make Baudichon suspected.[509] Next year (1531), when Maisonneuve was again at Lyons, and dining at the table-d’hôte of the Coupe d’Or, he met with some merchants from the neighboring provinces, and particularly from Auvergne, whose inhabitants, upright and charitable, but ignorant and vindictive, were distinguished at that time by a credulous devotion, as excessive as it was superstitious. The Genevan did not scruple to declare his religious convictions boldly before them, and the bigoted Auvergnats were much surprised to hear him speak ‘_after his manner about the Gospel and faith during all the meal_.’ ‘Hold your tongue,’ they said, angrily, ‘if you were in our country, _you would be burnt_.’[510] [Sidenote: Who Is Petrus?]