Of the crime there are different versions. In Hallam’s ill-informed Victorian day it could be maintained that Raymond was responsible in no way whatsoever. There is a story that the legate got into a hot religious argument with a gentleman of the count’s retinue who ended by drawing his dagger and killing him. The version of the Catholic chroniclers is substantially as follows: Raymond had called the legates to a conference at St. Gilles in order to arrange the conditions on which he might give satisfaction to the Church and thereby obtain the lifting of the excommunication in force upon himself and the interdict upon his lands. Very likely he was informed of the new call to a Crusade and was correspondingly frightened. As before, he was willing to promise anything, but de Castelnau and the Bishop of Conserans who was present understood him thoroughly by this time, and refused to give absolution until he should at least begin to fulfil his easily given pledges. Lea speaks of “demands greater than Raymond was willing to concede.” In all probability de Castelnau carried things with a high hand. Already we have seen him forced to escape by night from Carcassonne, and already he had cursed Raymond to his face. The tree of faith, he was accustomed to say, would never spring up in Languedoc until its roots had been watered with the blood of a martyr. Now, when the discussion was about to be broken off, Raymond is said to have uttered threats, more or less vague. In fear for the legates, the abbot and burghers of St. Gilles gave the legates an escort as far as the western bank of the Rhône, where they passed the night at an inn already partly occupied by some of Raymond’s people. In the morning, after saying mass, the Churchmen set out to cross the river, de Castelnau being mounted (according to William of Tudela) “on his ambling mule,” which would seem to show that in his case at least the practice of barefoot apostolic poverty had not lasted long, when a “sergeant” (i.e., a heavy armed, mounted, soldier not of noble blood) in the service of the Count, coming treacherously and from behind, mortally wounded him, with his lance. “May God forgive thee even as I forgive thee!” said the dying man.