Among the captives was Philippa de Lunz, a woman of good family, a widow, and only twenty-two years old. She was interrogated several times, but her answers were such as to destroy all hope of pardon. On the 27th September, 1558, more than a year after her imprisonment, she was led out to death, in company with Nicholas Clinet or Clivet, a school-master, and Taurin Gravelle, an advocate, both elders in the Reformed Church. Before they were placed in the tumbrel that was to carry them to the stake in the Place Maubert, they were to have their tongues cut out, to prevent their praying aloud or addressing the people on the road to death. The two men suffered this cruel mutilation without a groan. Turning to Philippa, the executioner roughly bade her put out her tongue. She did so immediately. Even he was struck by her intrepidity: “Come! that’s well, _truande_,” he said; “you are not afraid then?” “As I do not fear for my body,” she replied, “why should I fear for my tongue?” The knife flashed an instant before her eyes and her tongue fell to the ground. She was then thrust into the cart at the feet of her two companions and bound to the same chain. Before leaving the prison she had taken off her widow’s weeds and put on the best garments left her, saying: “Why should I not rejoice? I am going to meet my husband.” Around a pile of faggots in the Place Maubert there had collected all that was vilest in Paris, dancing and calling out for blood, just as some two hundred years later a similar mob danced round the victims of the guillotine. The king is said to have been a spectator of the horrible scene that followed. It was Philippa’s fate to look on while her two companions were burned to death--to witness their horrible convulsions, and hear the shrieks which the mounting flames extorted from them. But even this did not shake her faith, which found support in earnest prayer. And now her turn had come; the executioners roughly seized her with their strong arms, shamefully tearing her clothes, and held her over the hot ashes until her feet were burned to the bone. Then with a horrible refinement of cruelty the savage torturers hung her head-downward in the fire, until the scalp was burned off and her eyes scorched out. After that she was strangled, and heaven received another saint. A few days later four more of the prisoners suffered death at the same place. One of them, as he opened the shutter of his cell on the morning of his execution, that he might behold the sunrise once more, exclaimed: “How glorious it will be when we are exalted above all this.”