And here the Moslem writers relate a miracle dear to the minds of true believers. By the time, say they, that his pursuers, the Koreishites, reached the mouth of the cave, an acacia-tree had sprung up before it, in the spreading branches of which a pigeon had made its nest and laid its eggs, and over the whole a spider had woven its web. When the Koreishites beheld these signs of undisturbed quiet, they concluded that no one could recently have entered the cavern, so they turned away and pursued their search in another direction. But caverns have not always proved safe places of refuge, and a barbarous enemy has often used them for the destruction of those who there vainly sought safety. Thus, in Palestine, the Jews, who hid themselves with their wives and children in deep caverns hollowed in the flanks of a precipitous mountain, could not escape the satellites of Herod, who, let down from above in large baskets or tubs, put these defenceless fugitives to the sword. During the Gallic war Cæsar ordered his lieutenant Crassus to wall up the mouths of the caves in which the inhabitants of Aquitaine had sought a refuge, and many of them were thus immured alive. In the year 1510, when the French army, on its retreat from Italy, was traversing the defiles of Piedmont, the rearguard, commanded by the famous Chevalier Bayard, the good knight ‘without fear or reproach,’ having halted at Longara, the mercenaries, who formed a considerable part of his troops, spread over the country, pillaging and destroying wherever they went. To escape from these savage bands, the nobles of the district persuaded about two thousand of the peasantry to accompany them, with their families and an abundant supply of provisions, into the Cave of Longara, which forms a vast though low vaulted hall, about 1,200 feet long and 300 feet broad, but with an entrance so narrow that only a single person can pass at a time. The mercenaries, having discovered the secret of the cave, rushed to the spot, eager for pillage. The unfortunate refugees vainly strove to soften the hearts of these barbarians, but, finding all supplications vain, they took courage from despair, and, favoured by the natural strength of the cave, repelled the attack of the first banditti who attempted to force an entrance. The ruffians now returned to the charge in greater numbers; but being still unable to accomplish their object, they formed the diabolical plan of setting fire to a heap of hay, straw, and greenwood, which they piled up before the mouth of the grotto. The smoke penetrated into the cave and in a short time the two thousand wretches it contained—mostly women and children—were suffocated. Bayard, enraged at this barbarous act, which sullied his own honour, ordered the ringleaders to be seized and hanged before the entrance of the cave.