But matters had now reached a strange height, and there seemed to be a favourable season for malice and bigotry to work their will. Palissy was arrested and imprisoned; and, as soon as he was taken into custody, his workshop was broken into, and part of it laid open to the intrusion of the public. The magistrates, at their town meeting, actually came to a resolution to pull down the building, and would infallibly have carried their purpose into effect, had not the Seigneur de Pons and his lady immediately interfered. These tried friends of Bernard lost no time in personally remonstrating with the magistrates, from whom they, with some difficulty, obtained the promise to defer carrying out their design. To deliver him from the clutches of his enemies was not so easy a matter. His prosecutors were, in fact, no other than the dean and chapter, who, he says, were his cruel foes, and would have delivered him to death for no other cause than his free speech in the matter of their neglect of duty. The Sire de Pons, as king’s lieutenant in Saintonge, had power to control the justices of Saintes; and, consequently, the hands of his judges were tied. They were all, indeed, “one body, one soul, and one single will” with the reverend prosecutors of their prisoner, and without a shadow of doubt, had they been able to work their pleasure, he would have been put to death before appeal could have been made to the constable. “An awkward business is this,” said the dean to one of his brethren, as they discussed the matter of the interposition of the Sire de Pons. “Plainly, we cannot carry out our intentions here; but once at Bordeaux this obstinate heretic would be given up into the hands of the parliament there, and then the interference of the king alone could save him.” “There will be no satisfaction till he is silenced,” was the reply; “and, without doubt, he has done ample mischief. Only think of the labourers on our farms beginning to murmur at paying tithes to those who they, forsooth, say do not deserve them. This comes of his unbridled tongue. And shall we thus be defied and brow-beaten by an insolent mechanic?” “Nay, there is no need to urge me on. If he were but in our power; . . . but the question is, how to manage the affair, and get him safely out of the jurisdiction of these people, who will certainly never be brought to consent to his condemnation. There are so many wealthy men in this neighbourhood by whom the knave is employed in decorative works, besides the buildings at Écouen, and his skill in pottery-ware has made him so much thought of, that he is safe as long as he remains within this district.” “To Bordeaux, then, let him go, and that without delay. Why not this very night? In the daytime the matter would get bruited abroad, and his friends might contrive to send to the rescue; but by night, and across by-roads, he can be carried off silently and safely; and once at Bordeaux—” . . . “You say well.