them, signing to the executioners to show which part of the victims'
bodies they preferred.

Robert of Cabane, the grand seneschal, the Counts of Terlizzi and
Morcone, Raymond Pace, brother of the old valet who had been executed
the day before, and many more, were dragged on similar carts, and both
scourged with ropes and slashed with knives; their flesh was torn out
with red-hot pincers, and flung upon brazen chafing-dishes. No cry of
pain was heard from the grand seneschal, he never stirred once in his
frightful agony; yet the torturers put such fury into their work that
the poor wretch was dead before the goal was reached.

In the centre of the square of Saint Eligius an immense stake was set
up: there the prisoners were taken, and what was left of their mutilated
bodies was thrown into the flames. The Count of Terlizzi and the grand
seneschal's widow were still alive, and two tears of blood ran down
the cheeks of the miserable mother as she saw her son's corpse and the
palpitating remains of her two daughters cast upon the fire--they by
their stifled cries showed that they had not ceased to suffer. But
suddenly a fearful noise overpowered the groans of the victims; the
enclosure was broken and overturned by the mob. Like madmen, they rushed
at the burning pile,--armed with sabres, axes, and knives, and snatching
the bodies dead or alive from the flames, tore them to pieces, carrying
off the bones to make whistles or handles for their daggers as a
souvenir of this horrible day.




CHAPTER VI