"Where the devil did you go to?" Michael called out to Alison as he saw her from a distance. "Could you not at least have left the key in the door? The devil take those forgetful women!"
"I went--to confession," answered the gardener"s wife avoiding her husband"s eyes, and pushing open the gate. "I took the key with me because you were afield."
"To confession!--To confession!" replied Michael with a growl. "And I was freezing to death."
"All the same I must see to my salvation. You sent me this morning with a letter to our master. The curate was good enough to wait for me at the confessional after dinner. I availed myself of his kindness."
"Very well. But, may the devil take it! I wish you would try to gain paradise without exposing me to be frozen to death."
The couple had barely stepped into the lodge when Michael stopped to listen in the direction of the gate and said, surprisedly:
"I hear the gallop of a horse!"
The brave Michael stepped out again, looked through the grating of the gate, recognized Robert Estienne, and called out:
"Alison, come quick; it is our master!"
Saying this the gardener threw open the gate to Robert Estienne. The latter alighted from his horse, and giving the reins to his servant said:
"Good evening, Michael. Any news?"
"Oh, monsieur, many things--"
"Does my guest run any danger? Has any indiscretion been committed?"
"No, thanks to G.o.d, monsieur. You may be easy on that score. You can rely upon my wife as upon myself. No one suspects at the village that there is anyone hiding at the house."
"What, then, has happened, since my last call? Alison brought me this morning a note from the friend to whom I am giving asylum. But although the note urged my coming here, it indicated nothing serious."
"No doubt the person who is here, monsieur, reserves for his own telling the news that he is no longer alone at the house."
"How is that?"
"Day before yesterday, the tall one-eyed fellow who comes here from time to time, and always at night, called in broad daylight, mounted upon a little cart, drawn by a donkey and filled with straw. He told me to watch the cart, and he went in search of your guest. The two came out together, and out of the straw in the cart they pulled--a monk!"
"A monk, say you!--A monk!"
"Yes, monsieur, a young monk of the Order of Saint Augustine, who looked as if he had not another hour to live, so pale and weak was he."
"And what has become of him?"
"He remained here, and your guest said to me: "Michael, I beg you to keep the arrival of the monk an absolute secret. I shall inform Monsieur Estienne of the occurrence. Your master will approve the measures I have taken.""
"Did you follow his recommendation?"
"Yes, monsieur, but that is not all. Last night the big one-eyed fellow came back just before dawn. He was on horseback, and behind him, wrapped in a cloak on the crupper of his mount, he brought--a nun! I went immediately to notify your guest. He came out running, and almost fainted away at the sight of the nun. Bathed in tears he returned with her into the house, while the big one-eyed man rode off at a gallop. It was daylight by that time. Finally, towards noon to-day, the big one-eyed man returned once more, but this time clad in a peasant"s blouse and cap. He brought a little casket to your guest, and then went off--"
Astounded at what the gardener was telling him, Robert Estienne walked up to the house, where he rapped in the nature of a signal--two short raps and then, after a short pause, a third. Instantly Christian opened the door.
"My friend, what is the matter? What has happened?" cried Robert Estienne, struck by the profound change in the appearance of the artisan, who threw himself into the arms of his patron, murmuring between half-smothered sobs:
"My daughter!--My daughter!"
Robert Estienne returned Christian"s convulsive embrace, and under the impression that some irreparable misfortune had happened, he said in sympathetic accents:
"Courage, my friend! Courage!"
"She has been found!" cried Christian. The light of unspeakable joy shone in his eyes. "My child has been restored to me! She is here! She is with me!"
"True?" asked Robert Estienne, and recalling the gardener"s words he added: "Was she the nun?"
"It is Hena herself! But come, come, monsieur; my heart overflows with joy. My head swims. Oh, never have I needed your wise counsel as much as now! What am I now to do?"
Christian and his patron had all this while remained at the entrance of the vestibule. They walked into a contiguous apartment.
"For heaven"s sake, my dear Christian, be calm," remarked Robert Estienne. "Let me know what has happened. Needless to add that my advice and friendship are at your service."
Recovering his composure, and wiping with the back of his hand the tears that inundated his face, the artisan proceeded to explain:
"You are aware of the arrest of my wife, my daughter and my eldest son at our house. I would also have been arrested had I been found at home.
My brother-in-law, who lingered in the neighborhood of my house, notified me of the danger I ran, and made me retrace my steps. Thanks to Josephin and yourself I found a safe refuge, first in Paris itself, and then here, in this retreat which seemed to you to offer greater security."
"Did I not by all that but repay a debt of grat.i.tude? Your hospitality to John Calvin is probably the princ.i.p.al cause of the persecution that you and your family have been the victims of. Despite my pressing solicitations, Princess Marguerite, whose influence alone has. .h.i.therto protected me against my enemies, declined to attempt aught in your behalf. Cardinal Duprat said to her: "Madam, the man in whom you are interesting yourself is one of the bitterest enemies of the King and the Church. If we succeed in laying hands upon that Christian Lebrenn he shall not escape the gallows, which he has long deserved!" Such set animosity towards you, a workingman and obscure artisan, pa.s.ses my comprehension."
"I now know the cause of that bitter animosity, Monsieur Estienne.
Before proceeding with my narrative, the revelation is due to you. It may have its bearings upon the advice that I expect from you."
Christian opened the casket that contained the chronicles of his family, brought to him that very noon by the Franc-Taupin. He took from the casket a scroll of paper and placed it in Robert Estienne"s hand, saying:
"Kindly read this, monsieur. The ma.n.u.scripts to which this note refers are the family chronicles that I have occasionally spoken of to you."
Robert Estienne took the note and read:
"IGNATIUS LOYOLA, GENERAL OF THE SOCIETY OF JESUS "A. M. D. G.
"(_Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam_)
"Despite the incorrectness of their style and other defects of form, the within ma.n.u.scripts may, especially since the invention of the printing press, become a weapon of great mischief.
"This narrative, transmitted from century to century at the domestic hearth to obscure generations of common people could not, before the invention of the printing press, have any evil effect further than to perpetuate execrable traditions within a single family. It is so no longer. These rhapsodies are stamped with the race hatred borne by the Gauls towards the Franks, the conquered towards the conquerors, the serf towards the seigneur, the subject towards the Crown and the Church. To-day these rhapsodies could be multiplied indefinitely through the printing press, and thus diffused among the evil-minded people, ever but too p.r.o.ne to rebellion against the pontifical and royal authorities. Enlightened by these narratives upon historical events that should forever be a _closed book_ to them, if they are to entertain a feeling of blind submission, a sense of respect, and a wholesome dread for the throne and the altar, the evil-minded common people would in the future engage with ever greater audacity in those revolts that not a single century has. .h.i.therto been wholly free from,--a state of things that the Society of Jesus, with the aid of G.o.d, will reduce to order.
"Therefore, it is urgent that these ma.n.u.scripts be destroyed without delay, as proposed by our beloved son Lefevre, and that the traditions of the _Lebrenn_ family be shattered by the following means:
"To cause the father and mother to be sentenced as heretics. The proofs of their heresy are plentiful. The torture and the pyre for the infamous wretches.
"To lock up in a convent the son and the daughter (Hena and Herve) now in Paris, and compel them to take the vows.
"As to the youngest son, Odelin, fifteen years of age, and at present traveling in Italy with Master Raimbaud, an armorer, who is also reported to be a heretic, the return of the lad to Paris must be awaited, and then the identical course pursued towards him--capture him, lock him up in a convent, and compel him to take the vows. He is fifteen years old. Despite the taint of his early bringing-up, it will be easy to operate upon a child of that age.
If, contrary to all likelihood, he can not be reduced to reason, he shall be kept in the convent until eighteen. Then he shall be p.r.o.nounced guilty of heresy, and burned alive.