Cardinal could have believed these simple shepherds capable, or even anxious, to secure a town which had defied the greatest strength of France and Spain. The plea was absurd; but it suited the purpose of the Cardinal to affect belief in it. And the King had not the courage to contradict him. William du Bellay had died the year before. Margaret was away at Alençon, and De Tournon was at hand. The King was weak, ill, sorely in need of peace and quiet. He felt that a proof of his devotion to the Catholic faith was really desirable after his clemency at La Rochelle, and his alliance with the Turks. By the Treaty of Crépy he was bound to crush out heresy, and if the treaty were not carried out, there would be no Milanese for Charles. Besides, if these people were rebels and heretics, they deserved a punishment. So the King let himself be fatally persuaded to a crime which casts an everlengthening horror on his name. On New Year's Day he signed the writ. It was a "revocation" he was told. The King did not read it, but he signed his name.
It was more difficult to procure the other necessary signatures. The Secretary of State refused. He was not old and ill and weak; he had no younger son to place; he could afford a conscience, and refused. The Cardinal made L'Aubespin sign instead. It was necessary also that the Procureur-du-Roi should sign it. He refused. His substitute refused. The Chancellor's signature must also witness the writ, and he again refused. The Cardinal set a chance seal to it and gave it to the messenger of the Parliament of Provence, who stood waiting for it at the door.
When the President, D'Oppède, read the paper, he found it better than a mere revocation of the pardon of
