But, as we have said, it was not so with M. Juillerat. Being young and
active, and having an unfaltering trust in God, on him alone devolved all
the sacred duties of his office, from the visitation of the sick and
dying to the baptism of the newly born. These latter were often brought
to him at night to be baptized, and he consented, though unwillingly, to
make this concession, feeling that if he insisted on the performance of
the rite by day he would compromise not only his own safety but that of
others. In all that concerned him personally, such as consoling the
dying or caring for the wounded, he acted quite openly, and no danger
that he encountered on his way ever caused him to flinch from the path of
duty.

One day, as M. Juillerat was passing through the rue des Barquettes on
his way to the prefecture to transact some business connected with his
ministry, he saw several men lying in wait in a blind alley by which he
had to pass. They had their guns pointed at him. He continued his way
with tranquil step and such an air of resignation that the assassins were
overawed, and lowered their weapons as he approached, without firing a
single shot. When M. Juillerat reached the prefecture, thinking that the
prefect ought to be aware of everything connected with the public order,
he related this incident to M. d'Arbaud-Jouques, but the latter did not
think the affair of enough importance to require any investigation.

It was, as will be seen, a difficult enterprise to open once again the
Protestant places of worship, which had been so long closed, in present
circumstances, and in face of the fact that the civil authorities
regarded such a step with disfavour, but General Lagarde was one of those
determined characters who always act up to their convictions. Moreover,
to prepare people's minds for this stroke of religious policy, he relied