They found him in the street on his way to the municipality.

The four men fell upon him and dragged him to the church with the most ferocious cries.

Once there, Lescuyer understood from the flaming eyes that met his, from the clinched fists threatening him, the shrieks demanding his death; Lescuyer understood that instead of being in the house of the Lord he was in one of those circles of hell forgotten by Dante.
The only idea that occurred to him as to this hatred against him was that he had caused it by tearing down the pontifical decrees.

He climbed into the pulpit, expecting to convert it into a seat of justice, and in the voice of a man who not only does not blame himself, but who is even ready to repeat his action, he said: "Brothers, I consider the revolution necessary; consequently I have done all in my power--" The fanatics understood that if Lescuyer explained, Lescuyer was saved.
That was not what they wanted.

They flung themselves upon him, tore him from the pulpit, and thrust him into the midst of this howling mob, who dragged him to the altar with that sort of terrible cry which combines the hiss of the serpent and the roar of the tiger, the murderous zou! zou! peculiar to the people of Avignon.
Lescuyer recognized that fatal cry; he endeavored to gain refuge at the foot of the altar.