He found none; he fell there.
A laborer, armed with a stick, dealt him such a blow on the head that the stick broke in two pieces.

Then the people hurled themselves upon the poor body, and, with that mixture of gayety and ferocity peculiar to Southern people, the men began to dance on his stomach, singing, while the women, that he might better expiate his blasphemies against the Pope, cut or rather scalloped his lips with their scissors.
And out of the midst of this frightful group came a cry, or rather a groan; this death groan said: "In the name of Heaven! in the name of the Virgin! in the name of humanity! kill me at once." This cry was heard, and by common consent the assassins stood aside.
They left the unfortunate man bleeding, disfigured, mangled, to taste of his death agony.
This lasted five hours, during which, amid shouts of laughter, insults, and jeers from the crowd, this poor body lay palpitating upon the steps of the altar.

That is how they kill at Avignon.
Stay! there is yet another way.

A man of the French party conceived the idea of going to the Mont-de-Piete for information.

Everything was in order there, not a fork or a spoon had been removed.