• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 Preface
 Table of Contents
 The woman of tact
 Preparing for the ordeal
 Submission
 The flame scorches
 Behind the curtain
 A battle and a triumph
 Last farewells
 An eventful passage
 Poverty and pride
 A packet of letters
 Alone in a crowd
 The monastery
 Gins and snares
 A meeting
 A memorable night
 A secret
 A race for life
 The exiles' home
 A solemn scene
 The grand monarch
 Faith tried
 Flight
 In the snow
 Plans
 A parting glance
 Back Cover
 Spine














Group Title: Driven into exile : a story of the Huguenots
Title: Driven into exile
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00081633/00001
 Material Information
Title: Driven into exile a story of the Huguenots
Physical Description: 141 p. : ill. ; 21 cm.
Language: English
Creator: A. L. O. E., 1821-1893
Thomas Nelson & Sons ( Publisher )
Publisher: T. Nelson and Sons
Place of Publication: London ;
Edinburgh ;
New York
Publication Date: 1893
 Subjects
Subject: Christian life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Exiles -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Catholics -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Statesmen -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Kings and rulers -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Prisoners -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Huguenots -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Protestantism -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Stepfamilies -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
History -- Juvenile fiction -- France -- Louis XIV, 1643-1715   ( lcsh )
Prize books (Provenance) -- 1893   ( rbprov )
Bldn -- 1893
Genre: Prize books (Provenance)   ( rbprov )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
Scotland -- Edinburgh
United States -- New York -- New York
 Notes
Summary: In the late seventeenth century, the Marquis la Force is banished to England with his wife and daughter for refusing to put aside his Huguenot beliefs, while his son and nephew are held in France, struggling against Catholic oppression.
Statement of Responsibility: by Charlotte Maria Tucker.
General Note: Date of publication from prize inscription.
General Note: Added title page, engraved; Title page printed in red and black ink.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00081633
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002238798
notis - ALH9322
oclc - 192022016

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page i
        Page ii
        Page iii
    Front Matter
        Page iv
    Frontispiece
        Page v
    Title Page
        Page vi
        Page vii
    Preface
        Page viii
    Table of Contents
        Page ix
        Page x
    The woman of tact
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
    Preparing for the ordeal
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
    Submission
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
    The flame scorches
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
    Behind the curtain
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
    A battle and a triumph
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
    Last farewells
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
    An eventful passage
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
    Poverty and pride
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
    A packet of letters
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
    Alone in a crowd
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
    The monastery
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
    Gins and snares
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
    A meeting
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
    A memorable night
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
    A secret
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
    A race for life
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
    The exiles' home
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
    A solemn scene
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
    The grand monarch
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
    Faith tried
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 181
        Page 182
    Flight
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
        Page 186
        Page 187
        Page 188
        Page 189
        Page 190
    In the snow
        Page 191
        Page 192
        Page 193
        Page 194
        Page 195
        Page 196
        Page 197
    Plans
        Page 198
        Page 199
        Page 200
        Page 201
        Page 202
        Page 203
        Page 204
        Page 205
        Page 206
    A parting glance
        Page 207
        Page 208
        Page 209
        Page 210
        Page 211
        Page 212
        Page 213
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text



































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AWARDED TO


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" My duty to God must come before even my
duty to the king."
P e 36.










DRIVEN INTO EXILE


A Story of the Huguenots



By

A L O E


LOUIS MADE PRISONER.
ag'e 147


T. NEMION AND SONS
London, Edinburgh, and New York.








DRIVEN


INTO EXILE
A Story of the Huguenots.



By

at. L. 0. 6].,
Author of Pictures of St. Peter," Exiles in Babylon,"
The Shelherd of Bethlehem,"
6&c. &c.














LONDON:
T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW.
EDINBURGH; AND NEW YORK.
1892















P r .e f a C.


THE expulsion of the Protestants from France, after the
Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, is a fact which needs
no comment here. It is written in history in letters
broad and black, yet gilded by the faith and devotion
of those who became exiles for conscience' sake. I have
made this expulsion the ground-work of my story; the
design of which is to show how faith like that of
Abraham enabled God's people at a later period to follow
his example, leave home and country, and go forth as
pilgrims and strangers. As a missionary in India, I see
daily those whom the same faith has led to give up all
for the Saviour-to break asunder the closest, dearest
ties, if these ties would keep them from Him. Whether
in England, France, or India, it is the love of Christ that
constraineth; trials but strengthen, persecutions but
brighten that golden chain which binds us to Him.
A. L. O. E.




























o tn utj t5s.


I. THE WOMAN OF TACT, ...

II. PREPARING FOR THE ORDEAL,

III. SUBMISSION, ...

IV. THE FLAME SCORCHES, ..

V. BEHIND THE CURTAIN, ...

VI. A BATTLE AND A TRIUMPH, ...

VII. LAST FAREWELLS,

VIII. AN EVENTFUL PASSAGE, ...

IX. POVERTY AND PRIDE, ...

X. A PACKET OF LETTERS, ...

XI. ALONE IN A CROWD, ...

XII. THE MONASTERY,

XIII. GINS AND SNARES, ...

XIV. A MEETING, ...

XV. A MEMORABLE NIGHT, ...

XVI. A SECRET, ... ...

XVII. A RACE FOR LIFE,

XVIII. THE EXILES' HOME, ...

XIX. A SOLEMN SCENE,


..... ... 11

...... ... 19

.. ... ... 25

... ...... 33

..... ... 41

... ... ... 47

... ... 55

... ... 61

... ... 68

... .. .. ... 76

... .. ... 85

... ... 93

... .. ... 105

... ... 116

.. ... ... 126

... .. ... 136

S ... ... ... 143

... ... ... 148

S ... ... ... 159










CONTENTS.


XX. THE GRAND MONARCH,

XXI. FAITH TRIED, .

XXII. FLIGHT, ...

XXIII. IN THE SNOW, ...

XXIV. PLANS, ...

XXV. A PARTING GLANCE, ...


... ... ... ... ... 169

... ... ... ... ... 175

... ... .. ... ... 183

... ... ... 191

... .. ... ... 198

... .. ... ... 207














DRIVEN INTO EXILE.




CHAPTER I.

THE WOMAN OF TACT.

" BUT you must persuade your father !" cried Madame
Duval.
"Persuade !" repeated Adele la Force bitterly; "can
we persuade that grand cedar to bow its tall form like
a reed ? can we persuade the snow-capped mountain to
sink into a valley ? As easily could we persuade my
father to draw back one inch from the spot where he
has planted his foot."
"Does not the marquise use her influence? A
woman who has wit in her brain can usually guide her
husband," said Madame Duval, making her words more
emphatic by the movements of a large painted fan which
she held in her hand. There is coaxing"-the fan was
gently fluttered; "flattering"--the wave became slower;
"reproaches"-the lady brought the fan down sharply







THE WOMAN OF TACT.


on her own knee; "tears, despair !"-the fan was sud-
denly closed, to express a total collapse.
"The marquise never attempts to influence my father;
she says that it is a wife's part to obey." (Madame
Duval shrugged her shoulders, for she had a great con-
tempt for this axiom, and never herself acted upon it.)
"And she is right," continued Ad6le la Force; "right to
be willing to follow when she has such a man as my
father to lead."
"Cousin Elizabeth's mind is very mediocre," observed
Madame Duval; she has no kind of originality or esprit.
I am always sorry on your account, ma petite, that since
the marquis chose to marry a second time, he did not
give his children a step-mother more spirituelle. But
what could one expect from an Anglaise !"
My step-mother certainly does not understand me,"
said Ad6le, a little petulantly. I can never forget her
shocked look, and the lecture which she gave me, when she
once found Louis and me galloping on one pony, I riding
in the fashion of a boy. The marquise had lately come
from England, and I suppose that people are more dull
and solemn there, to match the climate."
"Not at the court certainly," said Madame Duval
with a smile; King Charles the Second and the beauties
at Nonsuch did not trouble themselves much about pro-
prieties. But I don't believe that Cousin Elizabeth was
ever within a hundred miles of a court; I doubt whether







THE WOMAN OF TACT.


she had ever put her foot into a coach, or even a sedan;
and if she ever rode, it would be on a pillion behind her
father. I think that the marquise likes to imitate the
birds-the brown sparrows, I mean-and only wear one
style of dress, and that of the simplest. The dear crea-
ture" (the speaker's tone was one of contempt) has no
more idea of fashion and ton than the sparrows possess!"
"All the better for her when this dreadful, dreadful
fall comes," observed Addle with a heavy sigh.
"It cannot come, it must not-it shall not!" exclaimed
Madame Duval. "The marquis will never be so cruel,
so insane, as to leave this beautiful home of his ances-
tors just for a few trifling differences in the matter of
religion. The king, the grand monarch, has chosen to
revoke the Edict of Nantes; he wants all his subjects
to worship as he does. Eh bien it is easy to conform
in mere externals; as Henry of Navarre said, 'Paris is
worth a mass.' We need not be wiser than our famous
hero. I say that Chateau la Force is worth a mass, and
a great many too; there is not a fairer estate in all the
province of Normandy."
Tears gathered in Addle's eyes as she glanced around
her; and, in truth, her childhood's home was one in
which the girl might feel natural pride. The saloon in
which she was seated with the wife of her cousin was
lofty and long, one end of it richly hung with ancient
tapestry. The furniture was antique, somewhat heavy,







THE WOMAN OF TACT.


but handsome. Some fine portraits hung on the wall,
painted by Holbein and Vandyck, giving an impression
that beauty was hereditary in the family of La Force.
There were also more warlike ornaments, in the shape of
banners won at Ivri, and weapons, of which some were
very ancient, with some chain armour worn by a crusad-
ing ancestor in the days of Philip Augustus. The depth
of the window recesses, in which were seats of carved
oak, showed the thickness of the massive walls, which had
stood a siege during the war of La Fronde. And most
charming was the view to be seen from these windows;
for Chateau la Force stood on a little eminence girdled
with a beautiful park, beyond which a fair expanse of
country was seen, with the sea, like a silver edging,
touching the distant horizon.
The appearance of Ad6le, the marquis's only daughter,
was in keeping with her surroundings. The girl might
be some fifteen summers old, with dark, lustrous, intelli-
gent eyes, and complexion which, though less fair than
that of an English girl, wore a richer bloom on the
cheek, a brighter coral on the lip, than are usually be-
stowed on maidens to the north of the Channel. Adele's
movements had the easy grace natural to one accustomed
to high society: her dress, though not of expensive mate-
rial, was elegant, and according to the costume worn by
ladies during the latter part of the reign of Louis Qua-
torze. Madame Duval was richly, even extravagantly







THE WOMAN OF TACT.


attired, in the height of the reigning fashion, and yet
had something of vulgarity in her appearance. Her
rich silk dress, worn with a peaked bodice, was looped
back on both sides so as to display a petticoat of costly
brocade. Her sleeves, which scarcely reached below the
elbows, were ornamented with the same kind of ex-
pensive point lace as that which edged the upper part
of her bodice. Madame Duval's cheeks were highly
coloured, but not by the hand of Nature; and not from
Nature came the profusion of black curls which clus-
tered on each side of the head, and fell in heavy coils
on the neck. The lady's manner was lively, her speech
rapid, and garnished with many exclamations, which sa-
voured too much of profanity to be recorded. Madame's
frequent appeals to the bon Dieu certainly belonged to
the category of idle words. Belinde Duval was what
the worldly call wise, and what the wise call worldly.
The French lady was vain of her tact, especially as ex-
ercised on her amiable but weak husband, between
whose conscience and his wife's will there was a con-
stant and wearisome conflict.
"I say you must protest," continued Madame Duval;
"you must bring your father to reason. I am a Hu-
guenot myself, so is your good cousin my husband; but,
as I tell him, Huguenot zeal must be tempered with
common sense. One cannot put one's head into the
mouth of a cannon. There is such a thing as accom-







THE WOMAN OF TACT.


modating oneself to circumstances. See, here is my
fan" (madame again opened the pretty bauble, carried
for ornament rather than use, to help her in illustrating
her meaning). On one side are painted high-born shep-
herds and shepherdesses, dancing round fountains and
holding garlands of roses; the other side is simple sky-
blue silk. If I am in a gay assembly, the shepherds
and their chores amies dance at their pleasure; if I am
listening to a pasteur's sermon, I turn the celestial colour
to the light; and when cold, miserable winter comes
with its storms-shut up fan!" (she suited the action to
the word); "there is nothing to be seen but the ebony
sides." Madame Duval laughed at her own illustra-
tion.
Cousin Belinde, I am in no humour for jesting, my
heart is too heavy," sighed Addle.
"I do not wonder at that; you have enough to make
you desolee !" exclaimed Madame Duval. "The very
idea of flying from this beautiful home, of going beyond
reach of visits to charming Paris, of being exiled to
dreadful England, with its horrible climate, where the
air is thick as pea-soup, and the sun is seen so seldom
that men take off their hats to him when he appears-
the very idea is too shocking to be entertained for a
moment I should be stifled in England, de'solee; I
should die of ennui," The lady raised her shoulders
and cast up her eyes, to express a shuddering sense of
(106)






THE WOMAN OF TACT.


utter misery. "And you, zmac petite, have been born to
such a very different fate; your name, your ancestry,
give you such a prestige. You remember, I doubt not,
Madame la grande Dauphine's visit to the chateau, when
she was making her tour in Normandy; how she patted
your curly head, and said that you and Louis made the
prettiest pair that she ever had seen, and that you must
both come to her at Paris. What an opening !" ejacu-
lated Madame Duval; "what would not I give for my
Felicie to have such a chance of making her way at court !
But she has not your antelope eyes, nor is her father a
marquis. You have such brilliant prospects before you;
and so has Louis-why, he might be appointed page to
the king!"
"We must not think of these things," said Ad6le bit-
terly; "they can never be; I ought not to wish them
to be."
"Oh! the very good little mnignonne will not even
look at the sugared cake which papa puts out of her
reach on the shelf But tell me the truth, ma petite-
if by taking that rose out of your bodice and placing
it on yon table you could change your father's rigid
views, and make him see things in a sensible way, tell
me, would you not do it ?"
Ad6le flushed, and laid a hesitating hand on the rose.
"And would not Louis ?" said Madame Duval.
"Louis would do thus!" exclaimed Addle; and sud-
(1o0) 2







THE WOMAN OF TACT.


denly throwing down the rose, she trampled it under her
foot.
"Bravo quite sensational! what an actress you
would make!" cried her cousin, laughing; "Madame
Maintenon should secure you for her private theatricals."
"Hark !" exclaimed Addle; "do you not hear the
trampling of horses ?"
"I suppose that the marquis is returning," said Ma-
dame Duval rising; and I must take my departure, for
I expect some visitors at home." She went to the
window and looked out. There is my chair waiting;
pray make a thousand apologies to my cousin the mar-
quise. I heard that she was making preserves in the
still-room, so I came for a tete-d-tMte with you."
Then followed embraces, carefully given by the elder
lady, who feared to disarrange her false hair, and rather
coldly received by the younger. Ad6le quite understood
why Cousin Belinde cared little for the society of the
marquis and his wife: there was nothing in common
between them. Ad6le accompanied her visitor down the
broad oaken staircase, and saw Madame Duval enter the
gay, fanciful sedan-chair, which often in those days took
the place of the cumbrous family coach. With a waved
salute, the lady was borne away by two liveried servants.
Almost at the same moment a party of horsemen, amongst
whom the marquis was the central and most striking
figure, emerged from a thickly-wooded part of the park.















CHAPTER II.


PREPARING FOR THE ORDEAL.

THE Marquis la Force was a man of noble presence,
especially when mounted, as he now was, on a spirited
charger, which he managed with graceful ease. The
steed knew that the hand on the rein was that of a
master, and obeyed the slightest movement. La Force
had passed middle age, but was still in the full strength
of vigorous manhood. His features were fine, but more
remarkable for the expression of calm repose upon them
than for mere statuesque regularity. The marquis's ap-
pearance was not marred by the huge wig then usually
worn by men of the upper classes. La Force had a
settled dislike to everything false: the brown hair,
lightly streaked with silver, the moustache and pointed
beard were such as we see in portraits of gentlemen of
the preceding generation, when the sword was more
often in the hand than the snuff-box, and luxury had
not made effeminate courtiers of the descendants of
warriors.







PREPARING FOR THE ORDEAL.


Beside the marquis rode Jacques Duval, the son of
the noble's sister. The nephew was a contrast in ap-
pearance to the uncle. Duval looked much shorter than
La Force, even though the redundant wig under his
laced cocked hat rendered the difference less conspicuous.
A huge cravat encircled a short thick neck, and made it
look shorter and thicker. The face above that cravat
was pleasant, honest, and kindly; but the lips, full and
usually slightly apart, had none of the expression of
calm determination seen on those of the uncle. It was
evident, also, that Duval had little command over his
horse. The animal's fidgety movements disturbed him,
and sometimes interrupted the conversation which he
was carrying on with his uncle as they slowly ap-
proached the chateau.
Yes, yes, you are right, you are always right; I am
entirely of your opinion," said Jacques Duval: "it is
better to lose anything, to sacrifice everything, than to
violate conscience. I intend to signify to his Majesty
that I am going to do what you do."
Not as I do, but as our God commands," said the
marquis. "Neither of us can, as Huguenots, conform to
a form of worship which we regard as idolatrous."
Surely not, surely not," said Duval, stooping ner-
vously to pat the neck of his restless horse; "but-
but-;" the poor man kept his eyes on his steed,
avoiding meeting those of his companion as he







PREPARING FOR THE ORDEAL.


added, "in some ways my difficulties are greater than
yours."
"How so ? asked the marquis. "Your property is
chiefly in hard cash, much more easily removed than my
house and acres, which are pretty certain to fall into the
hands of some favourite at the court. Besides, you have
artistic talent, which would of itself secure you from all
risk of serious privation."
"I have a wife and daughter," murmured Jacques.
The marquis might have said, So have I," but he did
not utter the sentence, nor put his nephew to the humil-
iation of explaining the difference between the two
families.
I am not sure-I do not think-that Madame Duval
would go with me if I went into exile," said Jacques.
"Madame Duval could not choose but go with you,"
observed his uncle, "unless you were to settle a separate
allowance upon her, which you would not be so unwise
as to do."
Madame is very much opposed to my resisting the
king's will," said Jacques, with a piteous look on his
face.
"My nephew, it is right to show a wife every con-
sideration-every kindness consistent with our duty to
God," observed the marquis; "but no husband must
abdicate the position which he holds by the highest
authority; he must not drop the rein which God has







PREPARING FOR THE ORDEAL.


placed in his hand; he must not make a woman's will
his law; he must serve the Lord himself, and do his best
to make his family serve the Lord also."
Quite right, quite right," said Duval; I always
thought as you did. I will do my best to persuade
Madame Duval. Ah, that's her chair! I must hasten
after her. Madame always likes to have my protection
when she passes through that part of the forest where
she apprehends danger from robbers. Adieu, my dear
uncle; we will talk over these matters when we meet
again at supper. I will think over your good advice-
I will-." If anything was said to complete the
sentence, the words were lost in the clatter of the
horses' hoofs, as the sward was exchanged for the harder
road.
"Think of, but perhaps not act upon it," thought
La Force sadly, as he rode up to the massive portico of
his dwelling. At the top of the wide steps which led
up to the open door stood his wife, the marquise, to
welcome him. Elizabeth la Force was a fair and comely
dame, of some thirty summers of age. Her demeanour
was calm and serene; the prevailing impression left on
the mind of a stranger by the sight of her face was
that she was a woman of good sense, devoid of hauteur
but not of a certain quiet dignity. A shrewd observer,
however, would notice certain slight lines on the broad
brow and near the mouth, which indicated care, and






PREPARING FOR THE ORDEAL. 23

possibly something of temper. There was nothing
peculiar in the dress of the marquise; only the criticis-
ing eyes of the woman of tact would have noticed it
at all.
A little behind the marquise stood Adele, with an
unwonted cloud on her youthful brow. Her face did
not light up with the sunny smile with which she
usually met her father.
The manners of that age were more formal than
those of the present. More stately etiquette was ob-
served in the households of grads seigneurs. The
marquis's servants drew up in two lines on the steps to
receive their master, and low were the reverences made
as, after dismounting, he passed them and reached the
little platform on which the ladies were standing. La
Force's reception by his wife and daughter was little
less formal; though when the marquis had passed with
them through the wide hall, and reached the oaken stair-
case, he was leading his lady with his right hand; and
Ad4le, in defiance of etiquette, had both of hers clasped
around his left arm. La Force, who was a very fond
father, always gave his daughter the privilege of a
petted child.
Not a word was spoken until the marquis, having
crossed the gallery at the head of the staircase, entered
the spacious saloon in which we first found Adl4e and
her cousin. La Force seated himself in one of the







24 PREPARING FOR THE ORDEAL.

heavy arm-chairs which bore the escutcheon of his
ancestors emblazoned on the back. Elizabeth, who
watched the looks of her husband and saw that a
weight was on his mind, silently took a lower seat near
him. Ad6le threw herself on a footstool, rested her
clasped hands on his knee, and looked inquiringly up
into his face. Neither she nor the marquise ventured to
ask the question which was uppermost in the mind of
each. La Force gently stroked his daughter's dark
locks, and then began the conversation in a voice calm,
but not altogether free from a tone of sadness.
















CHAPTER III.


SUBMISSION.

"I DO not like to take any important step in which the
interests of my dear ones are involved," said the marquis,
"without making them partners in my cares. If a
sacrifice is to be made, let us make it together; I ask
no one to go forward blindfold in the track which
Providence has marked out for me. Elizabeth, Adele,-
you know of the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, that
charter of Huguenot freedom. You know that the only
choice left in France for those who hold a pure faith is
between apostasy and exile. The choice has been offered
to me.-Elizabeth, you have from the first known my
decision,-you have expressed a willingness to follow
my fortunes."
"Where thou goest, I will go; where thou diest, I
will die," said the lady of La Force, using almost un-
consciously the familiar words of Scripture.
The husband turned on his partner such a look as
might have rewarded a wife for any loss of fortune or







SUBMISSION.


position. Addle saw the look, and it raised bitter feel-
ings in her young heart.
"It is easy for her to go to England, it is her own
land!" cried the girl impatiently; "but I was born in
beautiful sunny France, I have lived all my life in this
home of my fathers-it would be anguish to leave it! "
The dark eyes were full of tears; they trembled on the
lashes, then coursed fast down Addle's cheeks.
"I am ashamed of your want of regard for your
father's feelings," said Elizabeth rather severely. "He
has enough to suffer without his daughter adding to his
burden by her childish complaints."
The remark nettled Adele, all the more because it
was edged by truth. The glance which the young
maiden turned on her step-mother was one of hardly
disguised anger. Almost fiercely Ad6le cried, as, dash-
ing the tear-drops aside, she sprang to her feet, "I love
my father-none loves more than I do; no one need tell
me how to behave towards him!"
"Child, you forget yourself," began Lady la Force;
but the marquis silenced her by a look, and rising, he
took his daughter's hand and led her to a remote part
of the saloon, where tapestry covered the wall. It was
distressing to the Huguenot to have anything like divi-
sions in his family, and especially when all should unite
more closely to resist a coming storm. La Force was a
man of too much perception not to be aware that there







SUBMISSION.


was no strong love between his daughter and his wife.
Adele, a spirited, wilful child, who had had little early
discipline, had by no means welcomed the coming of
one who would counsel and restrain her, and exercise
maternal authority over a headstrong girl. Any foolish
prejudice, however, might in time have worn away-for
Elizabeth's character was one to win respect, and she
had a kindly heart under a reserved manner-but for
the evil influence of Madame Duval. That lady's plea-
sure was to set her young cousin against her natural
protectress, to hold up the marquise's manners, accent,
and dress to ridicule in her step-daughter's presence.
Especially Belinde Duval dwelt on Elizabeth's unpardon-
able fault-that of being of English birth. Addle was
encouraged to hate and despise everything belonging to
what the Frenchwoman called "the island of fogs."
Its people were talked of as little better than barbarians,
brutal savages who had risen up against their king, tried
him, and brought him to the block To the enthusiastic
Ad6le it was almost as great a crime in the English to
have won the battles of Agincourt and Cressy. The
girl's favourite heroine was Joan of Arc; Addle's day-
dream was to emulate that martyr .to love for her
country. The English and their descendants were never
to be forgiven for having had a share in the cruel in-
justice which had brought on the Maid of Orleans a ter-
rible fate. Ad6le had too much respect for her father,







SUBMISSION.


too much fear of incurring his displeasure, to let her
feelings towards the marquise often find vent in his
presence; but she harboured them in her heart, and gave
only too ready a hearing to the ill-natured jests of
Madame Duval.
La Force stood before the tapestry hangings with his
hand on his daughter's shoulder. Raising his eyes to-
ward the heirloom he said calmly, "This is one of the
things to be left behind."
0 father-never!" exclaimed Adele. "The tapestry
has been in our family ever since the days of Saint
Louis!"
We shall take something from it which I hope we
may never leave behind," was the quiet reply. The
subject of this tapestry picture has been familiar to you,
Addle, ever since you were able to distinguish your right
hand from your left."
"It is the history of Abraham," said Adele, surveying
the still rich though somewhat faded hangings. The
tapestry was divided by arabesque borders into three
compartments, representing Abraham going forth at
God's command, the patriarch kneeling in prayer, and
his preparing to sacrifice Isaac.
"Here," observed the marquis, "we have pictured
before us faith, prayer, and obedience. Abraham has
been dead for thousands of years (if saints can be said
to die), but still his example lives, and shall live till







SUBMISSION.


time shall be no more. Think you, my Addle, that it
was easy to the patriarch to renounce idolatry in a land
where all worshipped graven images? Think you that
it was easy to him to go forth, not knowing whither he
went, turning his back for ever on home and friends
and all that was associated with happy thoughts of his
childhood ?"
"No," was Ad6le's scarcely audible reply.
"And did Abraham make a wise or a foolish choice,
my daughter, when he went forth casting himself submis-
sively, trustfully, entirely on the promise of his God ?"
"He did wisely; he found a blessing," murmured
Ad6le.
"And in him all the families of the earth are blessed,
even all who are made Abraham's children by sharing
his faith.-My child, do you not desire to become a
daughter of Abraham ? If so, you must quit the land
of idols."
Adele heaved a sigh. "I will give up everything,"
she faltered.
_E ,I ;' ', ',, my child ?" said the marquis. "Con-
sider the full meaning of your words. You must give
up not only house and lands, not merely pleasures and
amusements, but the proud spirit, the rebellious will;
these, by God's grace, must be left behind if you would
inherit the blessing. You were just now disrespectful
to your mother."







SUBMISSION.


Ad4le's heart was very full; again her eyes brimmed
over with tears; the most gentle rebuke from her father
always cut her to the soul.
La Force waited for an answer, and an almost in-
audible one came at last. I am sorry," said the girl,
drooping her head.
Go and tell your mother so," said the marquis.
There was a painful struggle between obedience and
pride. But Ad4le felt a gentle pressure on her shoulder,
and that pressure was more powerful to subdue her wil-
ful spirit than the most forcible arguments would have
been. With slow step and downcast eyes the young
maiden returned to the place where the English lady
was sitting. Faintly, hesitatingly, the words, "I am
sorry," came from the reluctant lips.
Elizabeth silently kissed her step-daughter's glowing
cheek; and Adele, half mortified and half relieved, went
away to a small side-table, and occupied herself in turn-
ing over the leaves of an English book which lay upon
it. The volume was the Pilgrim's Progress," a work
then comparatively modern. Elizabeth had brought it
amongst the very few things which she had taken with
her from the land of her birth.
La Force and his wife conversed together on necessary
business connected with their departure;-what property
was portable and valuable enough to be carried with
them; and what arrangements should be made for a






SUBMISSION.


voyage across the Channel in the seventeenth century
-not so easy of accomplishment as in the nineteenth.
Addle listened sadly, for she did not take in the mean-
ing of a single sentence in the book before her, though
she had some acquaintance with English.
Presently a splendid greyhound, with a silver collar,
came lightly bounding into the room. Addle was glad
of the interruption.
"Ah, Qui-vive!" she cried, patting and caressing the
beautiful creature which licked her hand; "you are
happy, you have no troubles! What a welcome you
will give your young master Louis when he comes back
from his school! You will see him in three weeks from
this day."
"I hope that Qui-vive will see him to-morrow," said
La Force.
"To-morrow!" exclaimed Ad6le, with a cry of de-
light. 0 father then you have sent for him: what a
joyful surprise But what brings Louis back so soon ?"
"My wish," said the marquis gravely.
"And you never told me !" cried Adele.
"I thought it more prudent not to mention my in-
tention to any one, except, of course, your mother and
faithful Rochet, whom I intrusted with the commis-
sion to bring my son. A relay of horses was arranged
for, so that Louis might be brought with as little
delay as possible. If my boy has not strength for so







32 SUBMISSION.

long a ride, Rochet has orders to bring him in a horse-
litter."
"Oh! Louis will much prefer riding," cried. AdBle,
whose spirits had risen wonderfully at the news of her
brother's coming; though she was secretly mortified as
well as surprised that such a secret should have been
kept from her knowledge. "Louis is a capital horse-
man. Oh, what fun we shall have together, off and
away through the forest, and over the downs, as far as
-yes, as far as the sea! Qui-vive will go bounding
before us." The poor girl's countenance fell as another
thought struck her, and it was with bitterness that she
added, "But perhaps we shall soon neither have grey-
hound to sport with nor horse to ride !"
















CHAPTER IV.


THE FLAME SCORCHES.

THE supper, or as we should call it dinner, was served
at sunset at Chateau la Force, and in somewhat stately
style. The Duvals were invited guests, and the
marquise was careful to give her husband's relatives no
occasion to laugh at English ignorance of the art of
spreading a table. The venison pasty and the trotter-
pie, the delicate confections and the dessert of pippins,
barberries, olives, and musk-plums, had been prepared
under the immediate superintendence of the Lady la
Force. Duval was known not to be indifferent to the
pleasures of the table, and his wife was a critic in the
culinary art. Elizabeth never suffered her anxieties to
interfere with her house-keeping duties.
As the family sat in the saloon, ready to receive their
guests, a little perfumed missive was brought to the
marquise. "From Belinde, I see," said the lady as she
opened the note; and she read it half aloud in a cursory
manner: Had expected such pleasure. Bad headache.
(106) 3






THE FLAME SCORCHES.


Monsieur Duval will not be persuaded to leave me-I
am desolee.-Your devoted Belinde."
Cousin Belinde was here to-day," said Addle, "and
she seemed to be perfectly well."
Madame's headaches come when they are convenient
to herself, and inconvenient to those who have kindly
invited her," said Elizabeth, tossing down the note on
the table.
Cousin Jacques might have come,-I like him, he
is so genial and kindly," cried Addle.
"Madame will not let her husband be more at the
chateau than she can help," observed the lady of La
Force; and the lines on her broad brow deepened. "It
is disgraceful to a man to let himself be so governed by
his wife. Belinde would not have treated me thus
a few months ago ; but she looks on us already as-."
La Force stopped his lady's further speech by a glance,
as a servant entered the saloon for orders.
"Let the supper be served," said the Lady la Force.
Nothing was wanting at that silent meal except the
appetite to enjoy it. The servants took away the dainty
dishes almost untouched. There seemed something
oppressing the spirit of parents and daughter, like the
pressure of the atmosphere when heavy thunder-clouds
cover the sky.
The sun's fiery globe had not long dipped below the
horizon, when the trampling of several horses was heard.







THE FLAME SCORCHES.


Adele sprang up with the joyful exclamation, "It is
Louis come even sooner than we expected."
Resume your seat; it cannot be Louis," said the
marquis.
Voices were heard outside, then a loud inquiry as to
whether the Marquis la Force were within, with the
ominous addition, "We come in the name of the King."
This was followed by the tramp of booted feet; and
a servant entering the dining-hall said, Monsieur le
Vicomte de Fontainebleu requests audience of my lord
the Marquis la Force."
Let him come in," said the marquis, rising from
table.
Booted and spurred, with jingling swords at their
sides, wearing gold-laced coats adorned with large
bunches of ribbons, their three-cornered hats in their
hands, but heavy wigs on their heads, three gentlemen
entered the hall. Careful of the rules of court etiquette,
then thought more binding than any law, the three
bowed with obsequious respect to the ladies, and then to
the marquis, who went forward some paces to meet them.
"I regret the necessity of intruding on you, Monsieur
le Marquis," said the Vicomte de Fontainebleu, "but the
commands of his Majesty the King leave me no option."
"Before entering on business," said the courteous La
Force, let me request you to partake of some refresh-
ment after your journey."







THE FLAME SCORCHES.


Elizabeth made signs to her servants to bring back
the dishes, and ordered lights.
Pardon, monseigneur, but I must first fulfil my
duty, and place in your hand this reply to your paper."
Fontainebleu handed to La Force a large official docu-
ment, to which a huge red seal was appended. La
Force bowed as he received it, with a firm hand broke
the seal, and then read the paper with a countenance
calm and unmoved. His visitors were keenly watching
his face, and so were his wife and daughter.
It is as I expected," said the Huguenot noble, after
perusing the document. His Majesty rejects my
petition: I must either recant or quit France within
twenty-one days."
I hope-I doubt not-that Monsieur le Marquis
will conform to the wishes of his Majesty," said the
courtier blandly.
"In all that concerns not conscience," was the reply;
"but my duty to God must come before even my duty
to the King."
But the ladies-the demoiselle," said Fontainebleu,
glancing at Addle as he spoke.
"What the marquis wills, we will," quoth Elizabeth
la Force.
My wife, daughter, and son will be partakers of my
exile," said her husband.
Fontainebleu slightly shrugged his shoulders, with







THE FLAME SCORCHES.


something like a sigh of compassion for the fair victims
of stubborn obstinacy. Then in the same courtly
manner he observed, "The ladies of the chateau
may go where they list, but his Majesty has gra-
ciously made other arrangements for the heir of La
Force!"
"Explain yourself, sir," said the marquis sternly.
Fontainebleu avoided meeting the father's anxious
eyes as he made reply: "His gracious Majesty, full of
benevolence for his nobility, is unwilling to let a youth
of fourteen years of age suffer for the-pardon me,
seigneur-the contumacy of a parent. The King be-
nevolently takes upon himself the care of young Louis
la Force, and will insure his receiving a good education
at some Catholic establishment."
But surely not without his father's consent 1" ex-
claimed the Huguenot noble.
Such consent is quite unnecessary under the circum-
stances," said the courtier. His Majesty regards the
spiritual welfare of his young subjects. The matter is
not now in our hands: fortified by the royal warrant,
we called on our way hither at the seminary where the
young gentleman had been placed, and removed him
according to his Majesty's command. Monsieur le
Marquis's son is now on his way to Paris."
An ejaculation-it was an agonized prayer-burst
in a single word from the whitened lips of the father.







THE FLAME SCORCHES.


It was not loud, scarcely audible-it was such as the
rack might have wrung from a martyr.
Is there no remedy for this ? must I be bereaved
of my child!" cried the marquis.
There is a very simple remedy," observed the
vicomte bowing. Monseigneur has only to conform;
nothing is required but a declaration, a few masses,
and-"
The loss of a soul," said the Huguenot peer.
"Is this the justice to be found in France !" ex-
claimed Elizabeth, indignation in her honest blue eyes.
" Are children to be torn from their parents, simply
because these parents worship God according to con-
science! It never was so in England."
Fontainebleu again gave his little shrug, with a
corresponding gesture of the hands intended to express
his polite regret at the state of affairs which distressed
a lady, and his own irresponsibility in the matter. La
Force felt that argument or remonstrance was worse
than useless, and that it was undesirable that his wife
and daughter, who might be unable to control their
feelings, should remain in the company of their most
unwelcome guests.
Gentlemen, you will excuse the lady not presiding
at the board," he said, as the servants brought back the
dinner, with lights which were now required, as evening
was darkening into night. "Accompany your mother,"







THE FLAME SCORCHES.


the marquis gently added, addressing his daughter, who
had covered her face with her hands, and bowed it in an
attitude of uncontrollable sorrow. Addle did not wait
for the marquise to lead the way, but rushed out of the
hall, and her sobs on the staircase could be heard in the
room which she had quitted. Louis Louis !" were the
only words which she could utter between them.
Elizabeth, stiffly bowing to the French courtiers, with
a slow step quitted the hall.
Fontainebleu and his companions took their seat at
the board; and their host resumed his, to do the honours
of the table. The courtiers with sharp appetites
attacked the viands, and full justice was done to the
venison pasty and trotter-pie, while sack and burgundy
freely circulated round. Conversation also freely cir-
culated as the repast went on. It, however, touched on
no delicate topic. The French gentlemen talked of the
last duel, and the last grand ball, the reigning beauty in
the circle of fashion, the scenery of the country through
which the travellers had passed, the bad accommodation
at hotels, and such like matters of comparatively little
interest. La Force endured that wearisome meal, which
seemed as if it never would end. With a soul full of
trouble he forced himself to listen and reply to frivolous
questions; he performed the hard duty prescribed by
the law of hospitality, mastering his own impatient
spirit as he had mastered his fiery steed. It was a







40 THE FLAME SCORCHES.

relief when the tedious banquet was ended, when the
last glass had been drained to the health of the king.
La Force himself conducted the courtiers to their apart-
ments; and then, after exchange of formal courtesies,
was able to retire to his own.
AdBle lay awake for hours on her little bed, and then
cried herself to sleep. Her father neither wept nor
slept. That night was spent by the Huguenot in
prayer.
















CHAPTER V.


BEHIND THE CURTAIN.

ADELE awoke with a sense of something painful press-
ing on her heart, but did not for some seconds realize
what the burden was. Recollection came only too soon,
and with it a bitterness of spirit bordering almost on
rebellious despair. Ad6le was utterly unaccustomed to
sorrow; life had been to her like a summer's day, and
she was wholly unprepared for a storm. The girl could
not, like her father, wrap herself up in the thick mantle
of faith, and take refuge in prayer from the wild wind
and the rushing rain. Ad6le's mind was full of one
subject, and she could not fix it on religion even when
her knee was bent in apparent devotion. "Why does
God suffer wickedness to triumph, tyranny to trample
down right ? was the question that burned itself into
her soul. Ad6le had not gone into the sanctuary ever
open to believers; and she had as yet but little experi-
ence of the blessings which Christians find in the track
of the veiled angel-Affliction. The idea of Louis, her







BEHIND THE CURTAIN.


only brother, her companion, her pride, being in the
hands of a wicked king, to be brought up in a false
religion, and separated from his family for ever, was
frightful to the affectionate girl. Addle almost forgot
the misery of poverty and exile in this more terrible
woe !
The family of La Force had early met for morning
prayer, followed by a slight repast. The substantial
meal (at which Ad6le resolved not to appear) was re-
served for a later hour, when the luxurious guests
should emerge from their respective chambers; for the
courtiers did not, like the La Force family, rise at cock-
crow. The marquis used the interval in riding out to
see a sick tenant; his wife in arranging household
affairs. Addle could settle to no employment. She
wandered disconsolately into the large saloon, and seated
herself in one of the deep window recesses, the curtain
of which was so hanging as almost entirely to screen
her from the view of any one in the room. The saloon
was quite empty, or Ad6le would not have sought it;
but as she sat, sadly looking forth on the park, there
was heard the tread of heavy feet coming along the
gallery, and the sound of men's voices engaged in light
conversation. AdBle would gladly have fled from the
saloon, but she could not do so without meeting Fon-
tainebleu and his companions, and she could not endure
to encounter their gaze. The young maiden, without







BEHIND THE CURTAIN.


the slightest idea of eaves-dropping, remained in her
secret recess, earnestly hoping to escape the notice of
the hateful visitors. Adele had some expectation that
the courtiers would descend the staircase, and go to the
hall; but no, they entered the saloon.
"Fine place !" remarked Fontainebleu as he came in.
"Four thousand acres attached-I've been question-
ing the steward-they will bring in a fine revenue,"
observed some one, in a voice deeper and harsher.
Ma foi Lepine, you are always thinking of the
louis-d'or!" cried a third: "I warrant me you'd farm
out the Champs Elysee if you had a chance, and sow
turnips around the palace of Versailles. I say, this is a
capital place for hunting. I hope, Fontainebleu, you'll
invite me here. We'll bring down many a buck, and
perhaps have a chance of rousing a tusker in the
forest!"
"You'll not recognize the chateau, Perrot, when you
come again." It was Fontainebleu who now spoke.
"The old place is capable of much improvement. I
shall have the staircase painted and gilded."
0 you Goth! you Vandal! exclaimed young Perrot.
"Would you paint and gild polished oak ?"
It's so gloomy, you can't light it up. And what say
you to a few gods and goddesses painted on this ceiling,
showering down roses on gay dancers below ?"
"You would have to take down the pictures first-







BEHIND THE CURTAIN.


they would be incongruous," observed Lepine, the elder
courtier. "But they're well painted-uncommonly well
painted; I think that they would fetch their price."
"Yes; and that faded old tapestry too."
Ad6le could endure to hear no more. Like a
wounded young leopard she sprang from her curtained
recess and faced the three courtiers, who were startled
at her sudden appearance. Addle's face was flushed, her
small hand clenched, and her dark eyes were flashing
with anger.
"And who are you-robbers !" she exclaimed in a
voice hoarse with passion, that you dare thus to appro-
priate the property of my father, the Marquis la Force!"
The three courtiers bowed low, perhaps in mockery,
possibly in pity; and Fontainebleu made reply, with
a little hesitation in his manner,-
Mademoiselle has not yet heard that his Majesty has
appointed me, his unworthy servant, to take over charge
of the chateau and estate when the marquis quits the
place."
Adele la Force heard no more; she fled from the
saloon, and sought her own apartment, where she flung
herself on the bed in an agony of mingled anger and
grief. She heard the gong sound for breakfast, but she
moved not. The girl did not rise from he"-tear-wetted
pillow, until sounds from below assured her that the
courtiers were taking their departure at last. Then,







BEHIND THE CURTAIN.


indeed, Addle slowly went to her casement, and watched
the emissaries of the oppressor as they mounted their
horses, and then bent low from their saddles, and waved
a formal adieu to the master and mistress of the house
to which they had brought such sorrow. Addle hardly
breathed till the courtiers, with their mounted followers,
had disappeared behind the trees.
The days that followed were very painful. La Force
addressed a most touching letter to the monarch of
whose throne he and his ancestors had been a bulwark.
Bertrand asked for nothing but his child, complained of
nothing but separation from his only son. The letter
received no reply. Each member of the family wrote
to Louis; but from him, too, no answer came. Even if--
as was doubtful-the letters ever reached him, he was
probably not allowed to write in return.
There were needful cares connected with leaving the
estate. Whilst the marquis rode from cottage to cottage,
the lady of the chateau was full of work at home. It
needed much thought to select, from property accu-
mulated by successive generations, what should be carried
away. To this unpleasant work an additional ele-
ment of pain was added by constant disagreements in
opinion between Elizabeth and AdBle. The marquise,
a practical woman, who had been accustomed to rigid
economy in her childhood's home, in selecting articles to
take with her, naturally chose such as were portable and







BEHIND THE CURTAIN.


of intrinsic value-those that might readily be turned
into money. Ad6le set her heart on carrying off heavy
suits of armour, fraught with family interest. To this
Elizabeth strongly objected.
I would rather leave anything behind than this
precious sword !" exclaimed Addle. "Do you not know
that it was grasped in the dead hand of a La Force at
Ivri, and that from this incident King Henry gave to
our family the crest of a hand holding a sword, with
the motto 'Faithful unto death!'"
"I must make a concession in favour of that sword,
for your father values it," said the marquise; the
crest and motto are carved on the back of our chairs."
"And the crusader's cuirass ?"
Elizabeth shook her head. "Neither that nor his
spear and shield."
Adele could not suppress her indignation. "Of course
we shall take all the pictures, and the dear old tapestry,"
she cried.
Certainly the family portraits, but without the
heavy frames. To take the cumbrous mass of tapestry
is entirely out of the question."
You have no feeling "-
You have no sense "-were on the lips of matron and
maid, when happily the entrance of the marquis put
a stop to the unseemly dispute.
















CHAPTER VI.


A BATTLE AND A TRIUMPH.

A YET more painful struggle was going on in Courville,
the country house in which the Duvals passed the
summer months, living during the rest of the year in
their mansion in Paris. It was a struggle between a
weak, conscientious man, and the selfish, imperious
woman to whose will he had habitually yielded his
own. Night and day the struggle went on, Felicie, a
flighty, shallow-minded girl, throwing all her weight
into the scale of opposition to her pious father. Jacques,
the most good-natured, kindly of men, found himself
regarded as a tyrant. Sometimes he had to endure the
sight of fits of hysterical weeping, which wrung his
tender heart. More frequently he was overwhelmed
with bitter reproaches. Duval hardly knew which tried
him most-the blasts of anger, or the deluge of tears,
Head and heart ached with sorrow; the poor Huguenot
lost appetite, lost flesh-his home was a purgatory
to him.







A BATTLE AND A TRIUMPH.


The struggle could hardly have lasted but for the
strong support given to his nephew by Bertrand la
Force. The marquis argued with Duval, prayed with
him, stirred him up to play the part of a man. Often
they paced together the straight, formal walks of the
garden at Courville, where each alley had its brother,"
and the very trees seemed to grow according to rule.
A fountain in the centre spouted up its waters through
the horn of a Triton. It was in one of those walks
that the following conversation took place:-
"What! would you yield to a woman's love of the
world ?" exclaimed the Huguenot noble. "If you give
way, you sacrifice your wife and your daughter; you
throw them into the midst of temptations which you
know that they cannot withstand. For their sakes, as
much as for your own, stand out, and choose exile rather
than yield one inch in a matter of conscience."
"I would gladly embrace exile-I would go to En-
gland, Labrador, the ends of the earth-to keep true to
my faith!" cried poor Jacques, his eyes filling with
tears; "but I have been in all things so accustomed to
consult, or rather to leave all things to the management
of my wife, that it is now inconceivably,difficult to me
to oppose her will."
"My dear nephew "-La Force laid his hand on the
arm of Duval as he spoke-" in God's own Word it is
written that the husband is the head of the wife. If






A BATTLE AND A TRIUMPH.


the head habitually stoop to a lower place than that
assigned to it by its Maker, what, in the physical frame,
is the result ? The beauty, the dignity of the form is
lost altogether, and the health of the whole body is
injured."
Duval, with his eyes on the ground, sadly murmured
assent.
No woman," continued the marquis," can perfectly
love a husband to whom she cannot look up. Conjugal
affection is given to us as the type of the highest, holiest
of unions, even that between Christ Himself and His
Church. Do not we Protestants see in this unhappy
land the fearful consequence of what is called the Church
usurping the place of her Lord?"
Madame Duval, who greatly disliked to see her hus-
band engaged in conversation with his uncle, came out
to interrupt it. Belinde had strained every nerve to
prevent Duval from visiting the chateau; but she could
not hinder the marquis from coming to Courville. She
indeed no longer gave him a flattering welcome. La
Force was no more the aristocratic connection of whom
Madame Duval was proud; he was the ruined man who
had lost all chance of helping on her interest at court.
Madame openly, and before others, insulted the marquis,
who was too polite to retort. If she could not prevent
his visits to Courville, she could at least make them so
bitter that he would not care to repeat them.
(106) 4







A BATTLE AND A TRIUMPH.


See, Monsieur le Marquis," she cried, as she met La
Force on the terrace-" see what comes of your obstinate
self-will! Had you conformed, had you made a few
trifling concessions, you might have kept your only son
under your influence still." The woman of tact knew
where the sting of her malice would strike the most
tender place. "Now you abandon the care of his
up-bringing to men whom, in your superior sanctity,
you look upon as godless reprobates; or priests, whom
you regard as blind idolaters. Your son will either
become a profligate at the court, or, if you like the idea
better, a shaven monk prostrate at the shrine of St.
Mary."
"Belinde-my dear!" exclaimed Jacques in an ex-
postulating tone, which was intended to convey a
rebuke.
La Force pressed his lips tightly together to keep in
the burning words almost on his tongue. All that he
said aloud was, Madame, Louis is in the hands of God,
not of man," as he turned away.
It indeed cost La Force a great deal to persevere in
visits to Courville; but he was not a man to count the
cost. He felt that his nephew's soul might be at stake,
and therefore often turned his horse's rein in the direc-
tion which of all others he was most inclined to avoid.
Thus the days, so full of trial, rolled on. Even the
most tedious and trying come to an end at last. When







A BATTLE AND A TRIUMPH.


the time appointed for the Huguenot's departure drew
nigh, Madame Duval's opposition to the wishes of her
husband slackened, then actually ceased, though not her
bitter complaints. To her husband's inexpressible relief,
Belinde seemed to have given up the contest. Duval
was able to make arrangements for accompanying the
marquis and his family in their flight to England; a
fishing-smack was hired to convey the whole party
across the Channel. Madame Duval could not stay
behind without her husband's money, as she possessed
none of her own, so must perforce accompany him, how-
ever unwillingly. Dresses and jewels were accordingly
packed up; but Duval noticed that his wife's prepara-
tions were not on so large a scale as was required for a
complete transplantation from one country to another.
"Surely, nmo ariie, you will require to take much
more with you," observed the good man. "Madame
Elizabeth has been doing nothing but packing for the
last ten days, and a waggon-load of heavy luggage went
yesterday from the chateau."
"My brother will send after us anything that we
want," replied Madame Duval.
"But surely that will be difficult, troublesome, and
expensive; remember the risk of transporting luggage
across that rough sea. Had we not better take more
with us to England ?" suggested the husband meekly.
"I suppose that blankets and warming-pans can be







A BATTLE AND A TRIUMPH.


bought in the foggy island," was Belinde's tart reply
as she turned away.
The momentous morning of departure arrived. A
large travelling coach, drawn by six horses, was at the
portico of Courville, and servants were busily employed
in piling the top with luggage and thrusting articles
into the boot. Felicie sat on a trunk looking wonder-
fully cheerful and humming a tune, which made her
father call her a brave, good girl: she giggled a little at
the praise. It had been arranged that the conveyances
of the La Forces and the Duvals should meet at an
appointed hour at a place where four roads met, so that
no time might be lost by either party going out of the
way. The two families would then proceed on their
journey together.
Duval stood in his hall watching and directing his
servants: it was a matter of self-gratulation to him
that all was clear before him at last. Jacques had not,
like his uncle, the pain of leaving an ancestral home,
Courville being only a hired house, and so full now of
unpleasant associations that poor Duval never wished to
see it again.
Madame, attired for her journey, came up to her
husband. He avoided looking at her; he almost felt as
if acting a cruel part towards his wife. If Jacques had
won a victory, none of a conqueror's feelings of triumph
were in the kind man's heart.







A BATTLE AND A TRIUMPH.


"Speak to me for a few minutes in the library," said
Madame Duval.
"One struggle more," thought Jacques, as he sub-
missively followed his formidable wife.
Belinde motioned to him to take a chair, and sat
down beside him. "Now for the last battle," thought
Duval. "Would that we were fairly on our way !"
Madame cleared her throat with a little cough, before
she began in a tone much more mild than her husband
expected.
"I have made a great sacrifice for you," said Belinde.
Great, great, imo amnie," responded Duval.
"I have consented that we should never part from
each other. But if we could have kept together and
remained in France, without your having to change your
religion, would you not have stayed with me here?"
Of course, of course," was the hastily uttered reply.
"Then it is nothing but the fear of being forced to
renounce your faith that makes you depart ?" Belinde
was eagerly, anxiously watching the averted face of her
husband as she asked the question.
"If I could stay, without giving up my religion, of
course I would do so, in deference to your wishes, mon
amic."
"Then you promise me-you give me your word of
honour-that if you can remain without becoming a
Catholic, you will ?"







A BATTLE AND A TRIUMPH.


"I promise, for the thing is impossible," said Jacques.
It was with a look of triumph that Madame Duval
opened an official-looking document, of which she had
already broken the seal. The crabbed signature of the
unscrupulous prime minister of Louis XIV. was easily
recognized by Duval.
"Read this," cried Belinde; "or stay, I will save you
the trouble;" and she read aloud as follows: As a
special indulgence from his Majesty, Ji..;, '1r Duval
is permitted to reside in Paris without renouncing his
heretical errors, on the single condition that no meetings
for seditious or religious purposes be held in his house.
Jacques was thunderstruck at this most unexpected
turn to the course of affairs. He took the paper into
his own hand and read it.
"Is it not clear ? asked Belinde.
Duval only nodded his head.
"And have you not pledged your solemn word that
we shall keep together if you are not forced to recant ?
I am going to Paris; you must go with me, or you are
a perjured man."
How did you obtain this paper ?" asked Jacques in
an agitated voice.
"I told you that I had made a great sacrifice, and
my words were true. In procuring this indulgence, I
had the wit to work through a woman. My sapphire
necklace adorns the neck of the minister's wife."
















CHAPTER VII.


LAST FAREWELLS.

SINCE the marquis had received the royal mandate to
depart within twenty-one days, a great change had
taken place in the weather, before so warm and bright.
A touch of early frost in the beginning of October had
suddenly changed the aspect of nature, and clothed the
trees of the park in garments of yellow, crimson, and
brown. To the aching heart of Addle their beauty
spoke only of death and decay. The showers of leaves
which the soughing wind sent whirling to the ground
seemed to her emblems of withered hopes. AdBle
wandered for hours in the forest, revisiting each spot
most beloved, and carving her initials on the bark of
some of the trees. Sometimes, seated on a gnarled root,
the poor girl wept passionately for her brother. Addle,
on her return to the chateau, would feel impatient when
she beheld her step-mother, wearing an apron and with
no lace on her sleeves, packing delicate articles with
her own hands, or giving orders to the servants, who







LAST FAREWELLS.


were turning the former order of the place into what
appeared to the eyes of the girl only dust, disorder, and
confusion.
"My step-mother thinks of nothing but common
household arrangements," said Ad6le to herself, with a
feeling approaching to contempt.
The youthful maiden was wrong. Elizabeth was
thinking first of her husband. Her busy efforts were to
save him trouble. His comfort was the object which
his wife had ever in view: La Force should have no care
about minor matters from which her active love could
save him. Elizabeth worked on vigorously in spite of
fatigue. She looked serene (at least in her husband's
presence), notwithstanding the pain at her heart. For
Elizabeth grieved over the loss of Louis, though she did
not weep violently like his sister. What Ad6le took
for want of feeling was really consideration for the
feelings of Bertrand. "My step-mother is quite happy
at the thought of going to England; leaving the dear
old chateau is nothing to her," thought Addle. Again
the girl was utterly wrong. Elizabeth dearly loved her
beautiful dwelling, the only residence in which she had
known domestic peace. For Elizabeth's early years had
been full of trial. Her father, a hard, penurious man,
had made his house a dull prison to his children. With
a strange perversion of mind, Mr. Page had regarded
Elizabeth, his eldest daughter, almost with dislike. He






LAST FAREWELLS.


chose to consider her extravagant; and when he became
a widower, and housekeeping devolved on his first-born,
by no possible effort which Elizabeth made could she
please a peevish, unreasonable man. Every meal was
imbittered by reproaches, every morsel seasoned with
gall. When La Force took his portionless bride from a
home undeserving of the name, Elizabeth was like a
caged bird set free.to spread its wings in the sunshine.
These early trials, to which she never alluded, had
sobered, matured, and ripened her spirit; and relief from
their pressure had added the element of fervent grati-
tude to a deliverer, to the loyal love which was borne
to a husband. The years spent at the chateau had been
to Elizabeth beyond comparison the happiest years of
her life, and she was greatly attached to the place.
Elizabeth had also her secret anxieties regarding the
future. She doubted how her generous, open-handed
husband would bear the trial of comparative poverty,
and how he would agree with a man so utterly unlike
him in everything as was Mr. Page, her father.
But Madame la Force kept these troubles and anxi-
eties to herself. Addle had often complained that her
step-mother did not understand her; she might with much
more truth have said that she did not understand her
step-mother. Addle compared her own sensibility with the
supposed coldness of a stronger nature, and prided herself
on what was actually selfishness under a specious disguise.






LAST FAREWELLS.


On the morning of departure the marquis and Eliza-
beth were in the hall ready to start at the moment
appointed. Ad6le only was missing. Her step-mother
was annoyed at time being lost in search for the girl,
as it was like prolonging a painful operation which the
marquis had to endure. La Force was anxious to be
off, lest the Duvals should reach the place of rendezvous
before his party. After Addle had been vainly sought
for in her own apartment and in the saloon, she appeared
at last on the drive, her eyes swollen with crying, after
a sad parting with her pony, her white doe, and her
doves; a parting which she now renewed with her
favourite Qui-vive, throwing her arms round his neck,
kissing him, and weeping.
The marquis read impatience on the face of his wife.
"Do not chide the poor child," he gently said; she has
enough to suffer already."
It was at the last difficult to depart, so many
tenants, servants, neighbours, and friends had come for
a last look, a last shake of the hand of the man whom
they regarded as the noblest in all the province of Nor-
mandy. At length the marquis mounted his white steed.
The beautiful creature had already been sold; but his new
master was to receive him where the four roads met-
the place appointed for the rendezvous with the Duvals,
at the foot of a small hill, surmounted by a windmill.
For the last time the marquis gave the shake to the







LAST FAREWELLS.


rein which was the signal to his obedient steed to bound
forward; then turning, La Force bent from his saddle
to bid a long farewell to his friends. He avoided
glancing up at the castle; it was surrendered to God-
enough, its owner would cast no "long, lingering look
behind."
The ladies took their places in the travelling coach.
Ad6le abandoned herself to grief, covering her face with
her hands. Elizabeth to the last spoke kindly words to
those who had come to say good-bye; but it was a
relief when the moving on of the cumbrous vehicle left
her at length to comparative solitude. The lady then
repeated to Addle a single verse of comfort from the
Scriptures; but Addle did not choose to be comforted.
As the attempt to bestow consolation elicited no reply
but a sob, Elizabeth settled herself on her seat, and, to
Addle's utter disgust, quietly took out her knitting.
"Such an occupation at such a time! no one but an
Englishwoman would have thought of anything so
heartless!" said Ad6le to herself. But Elizabeth had
remembered the cold wind which would meet her hus-
band on the waves of the Channel, and she was making
a soft, warm wrap to protect him from its effects. As
the lady's busy fingers plied the ivory needles, the click:
click of which almost drove her step-daughter wild,
Elizabeth was repeating to herself verses from the
Psalms, intermingled with silent prayers.







LAST FAREWELLS.


The marquis, who rode rapidly, had reached the little
hill in half the time taken by the coach. He rode up
to the heavy, luggage-piled conveyance.
"There is nothing to be seen of the Duvals," he said
to his wife.
Your nephew is not always punctual, and Belinde is an
unwilling traveller. I am not surprised at a short delay."
But the delay was not a short one, and La Force
became uneasy.
"They were to have been here at ten, and it is now
half-past eleven," said the marquis after some time,
looking for the twentieth time at his large gold watch,
and then anxiously glancing down the road by which
the Duvals were to come.
"I will ride off to Courville myself, and find out the
cause of this most inopportune delay," cried La Force.
He pressed the sides of his steed and shook the rein:
there was no need of whip or spur; the horse galloped
off swiftly, as if proud of his rider.
The gate of Courville was soon reached; it was open.
La Force passed through the grounds to the door of the
villa. The place looked empty and deserted; the blinds
were drawn; there was no sign of a travelling carriage,
except the deep ruts which its wheels had left on the drive.
"Where is monsieur ? where is madame ? asked the
rider anxiously of a servant who was lounging about.
They started two hours ago for Paris," was the reply.
















CHAPTER VIII.


AN EVENTFUL PASSAGE.

ON the evening of that sad day La Force stood, with
arms folded, on the deck of a little vessel, watching the
receding shores of the land which he had quitted for ever.
0 God, have pity on my unhappy country!" such
was the Huguenot's silent prayer. Save France from
the iron hand of tyranny, and let Thy gospel have free
course. And oh, do Thou in Thy mercy watch over
my only son! Be to him as a father, as for Thy sake
he is fatherless upon earth. I commit to Thy holy
keeping one who is dearer, far dearer to me than life."
"Guide us, guard us, O Lord," was the quiet sup-
plication of the Huguenot's wife. "Lead us in the
right way, for we rest our hopes upon Thee. Uphold
my beloved husband in the trials encountered for Thy
sake." Then, turning an indignant glance on the land
which she was leaving, the Englishwoman said half-
aloud: "0 guilty France, thou wilt one day repent
having cast off from thee thy bravest and best !"






AN EVENTFUL PASSAGE.


Terribly was the prediction fulfilled when, with no
gallant and true Protestants to uphold it, the throne
of the descendant of Louis XIV. was overturned with a
crash which startled Europe, and the head of the in-
heritor of his title and name fell into the blood-stained
basket! The crimes of a despotism brought on the
horrors of a revolution. Louis XIV. sowed the wind,
and his family reaped the whirlwind.
"Farewell, dear, beautiful France!" exclaimed Adele
la Force. "With thee I leave all happiness behind !"
"Do not speak thus, Ad6le," said Elizabeth, who
heard the exclamation; "keep up a brave heart-matters
might have been worse."
They could not be worse than they are-I could not
be more wretched than I am i" Poor Ad6le had soon
to recall these hastily-uttered words.
Elizabeth did not stay to dispute the point; she went
down to the small cabin allotted to the family, to make
all things as little uncomfortable as she could, in such
a narrow space. Then, when bags had been hung up,
and the port-hole opened to admit some air and light,
when provisions had been taken from the basket, and
berths properly arranged, Elizabeth sat down on a
trunk, and for awhile gave herself over to thought.
Her reflections were not all painful. Elizabeth was
going back to England, dear old England, where Chris-
tians had liberty to worship in spirit and in truth,







AN EVENTFUL PASSAGE.


albeit under a popish king. No dragonnades were there;
no children were torn from their parents to be brought
up in errors which those parents abhorred. Elizabeth
also thought of the meetings before her. Her father's
unkindness had not destroyed though it had nipped the
plant of filial affection. His daughter had not seen him
for eight long years, and she yearned for a sight of
his and other familiar faces. What a pleasure to see
gentle Lilly and loving Bridget again, and friends,
faithful though few! Elizabeth had led a secluded life
in her early home, but she had been able to pay a few
visits, which remained as green spots in her memory.
It was during one of these few visits to a chosen friend
that she had first met with Bertrand la Force.
Elizabeth felt it a matter for thankfulness that,
though her husband had lost his estate and was pre-
cluded from drawing from it any revenue, he was in no
immediate danger of feeling the pressure of want. The
marquis had brought with him a considerable sum in gold,
besides family jewels of value. There was something
to start with, a prudent management of which might
procure needful comforts for the family; the loss of
luxuries was not to be regretted. It would be a real
pleasure, Elizabeth thought, to show her skill in making
the two ends meet, to contrive how far her personal
efforts could smooth the path of her exiled lord. The
English lady contemplated the possibility of earning







AN EVENTFUL PASSAGE.


something by her needle to add to the little family
store. Elizabeth was full of her plans for the future,
when she was aroused in a startling manner from her
quiet reflections.
Chateau la Force being not more than five leagues
from the port, the exiles had calculated on embarking
but an hour or two after mid-day, and crossing the
Channel before night should set in, if the wind blew
from the south. But there had been considerable delay
caused by waiting for the Duvals, and the roads had
been in so bad a state that little remained of daylight
before the port was reached. The marquis consulted
the skipper of the smack in which his passage was
taken as to whether it was necessary to wait till the
morning before setting sail.
"We've good moonlight, and the wind in the right
quarter," was the seaman's reply; "I'll engage to land
all safe and sound at daybreak."
As La Force was unwilling to linger in the port, he
accordingly embarked with his family, and one faithful
attendant, a Huguenot like himself.
The smack had not accomplished half her course over
the heaving waves, when a dull, gray sea-mist fell,
blotting out the moon and the stars, and swathing every-
thing like a shroud. Notwithstanding the damp chill,
AdBle would not quit the deck, to go down, as she said,
to be stifled below. With her arm locked in that of her






AN EVENTFUL PASSAGE.


father, the girl stood gazing into the mist, which, even
had the sun not gone down, would have hidden France
from her eyes. Suddenly a large high object loomed
through the fog, an object which looked to Addle like an
enormous white wing. There was a loud shout to the
steersman, Helm a-port!" a cry, She's on us and
then a violent, terrific shock, which made every plank in
the vessel quiver, and almost threw Adele down on the
deck. The bowsprit of the smack had been smashed,
her bulwark crushed in: there had been a collision with
a larger vessel in the fog.
"Lower the boat!" shouted the skipper; "call all
hands-she's sinking !"
Hold on, Ad6le; I must go for your mother," ex-
claimed the marquis. But as he hastened to find his wife,
he met Elizabeth coming quickly up the companion-
ladder. She would have known by the shock that some-
thing terrible had happened, even if the water had not
been rushing into the cabin through a fracture caused by
the violent collision.
"What is it ?" was Elizabeth's hurried question.
"A vessel has struck us in the fog. Come quickly;
I think we are going down."
Already the sailors were lowering the boat. Not a
minute had to be lost. The vessel that had borne down
on the smack was taking in her sails, and putting out
a boat to help in preserving the passengers and crew of
(106) 5






AN EVENTFUL PASSAGE.


the smaller craft. Addle, almost too bewildered to
comprehend her situation, found herself almost thrown
down into a boat, and then, ere the oars had made more
than three strokes, caught up again by strong hands
and lifted, like a helpless burden, up the side of a larger
vessel than that which she had quitted. She was wet,
frightened, but safe! Scarcely had all the shipwrecked
party been taken up from the boats, when the smack,
which had been greatly injured, sank, prow foremost,
under the waves! The collision-the escape-had oc-
cupied so short a space of time, that the startled pas-
sengers felt as if the whole had been but a dream.
The mist was clearing off. The moon's pale orb
could be seen, and shed a ghastly gleam on the waves.
Addle gazed bewildered on the bubbles and eddies which
showed where the vessel in which she so lately em-
barked had disappeared, carrying with it all the treasures
which the Marquis la Force had been taking with him
to England. She could hardly realize that the family
had now absolutely nothing but the wet garments in
which they were standing.
"Thanks to our merciful Preserver, that which is
most precious is safe !" exclaimed the Huguenot noble,
with one arm around his wife and one around his
daughter.
"But is all-all gone?" cried Addle excitedly, still
gazing on the dark heaving waves. "My mother's






AN EVENTFUL PASSAGE. 67

jewels-the pearls which were heirlooms-the plate
which our ancestors used and handed down from sire to
son-the pictures, the dear pictures which can never,
never be replaced-even the sword which was worn at
Ivri !-all swallowed up by that horrible sea !"
"We had already lost what was more precious than
gold or jewels," said the bereaved father with a sigh;
"and as for the sword, my child, we shall find in the
land to which we are bound one more valuable still, the
sword of the Spirit-the Word of God."
Why does God strip us of everything ?" impetuously
cried Addle la Force.
The marquis calmly replied in the words of the
patriarch Job, The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken
away; blessed be the name of the Lord."
















CHAPTER IX.


POVERTY AND PRIDE.

THE heart of old England readily responds to the call
of humanity. It is matter of history that a subscrip-
tion was raised for the Protestant exiles from France,
who in tens of thousands sought refuge from persecution
after the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes.
The La Forces met with the utmost kindness on
board the vessel which had been the accidental cause of
the loss of their own. Captain, officers, and passengers
vied in showing them attention. The same kindness
awaited the exiles on their arrival at Dover. No sooner
was it known that a Huguenot nobleman and his family,
expelled from France by the tyrant Louis, had suffered
shipwreck and loss of everything on the voyage, than
several respectable burgesses contended for the honour
of showing them hospitality. The mayor, William
Carden, succeeded in establishing his superior claim to
the honour of entertaining the Marquis la Force.
So a cask of ale was broached, huge joints of beef







POVERTY AND PRIDE.


ordered in-the boar's head was to appear at the head
of the table. Even the morning repast was substantial
and abundant, though the grand feast was reserved for
a later hour. The mayor's wife, a kind-hearted woman,
ransacked her wardrobe to bring changes of raiment to
the shipwrecked ladies. Elizabeth thankfully accepted
for herself and Adele what was most plain and inex-
pensive, though not without expostulation on the part
of her hostess, who declared that such garments were
"not fit for the quality." After the excitement and
fatigue of their disastrous voyage the travellers needed
rest, but they had to stand the well-meant but trying
attentions, and answer the questions of numerous vis-
itors, whom sympathy or curiosity, or both motives
combined, brought to the house of the mayor.
"I wish that these good people had the sense to un-
derstand that to those in affliction, as we are, it would
be a luxury to be left alone!" exclaimed Ad6le in
French, when there was a brief pause in the stream of
visitors.
"It is a luxury which we could only procure by mor-
tifying and disappointing those who are eager to do us
service," observed the marquise.
English are so different from French," murmured
Addle ; "of course you do not feel the change as I do.
-Ah, another rap at the door !"
The Huguenot family won golden opinions from the







POVERTY AND PRIDE.


good citizens of Dover. The marquise was declared to
be so nice, so free from pride, such a thorough English-
woman: the young lady was so pretty and interesting:
as for La Force himself, his noble appearance, his per-
fect courtesy, and the cause of his exile, caused a feeling
of enthusiasm in his favour.
This enthusiasm took a very practical form. While
the exhausted travellers were at length enjoying a little
much-needed repose after a crowded banquet, energetic
dames, late in the evening and early in the morning,
were hurrying from house to house, from shop to shop,
collecting subscriptions in aid of a noble family utterly
ruined by their attachment to the Protestant cause.
Money was readily contributed, and confided to the
hospitable mayor.
Elizabeth was pondering, with some perplexity, in
what way she and her party could, without money, ac-
complish a journey of some thirty miles to the house of
her father, when she and Adele were summoned to par-
take of a late and very substantial breakfast. As on
the preceding day, the mayor and his wife did the honours
of the table with kindly but not very refined hospitality.
Beakers were filled with foaming ale; the plates of the
Huguenot guests were heaped up with more food than
they could possibly eat. Adele, accustomed to French
cookery, surveyed almost with disgust the thick beef-
steak, somewhat underdone, which was placed before







POVERTY ANVD PRIDE.


her, and felt impatient at being urged to eat, when any-
thing like appetite was gone. The mayor and his wife
had evidently something on their minds. One or the
other now and then quitted the table to go into another
apartment, from which the breakfast-room was only
divided by folding-doors. There was a sound of per-
petual whispering and moving about in this room, heard
indistinctly when the thick doors were closed, but very
clearly when they were opened for the ingress or egress
of the mayor or his wife. It was evident that a great
many people were crowded into that room, as if awaiting
a reception.
"What is on foot ?" thought Ad6le. "Cannot these
kind English boors leave us alone! It is odious to be
made a sight of, as if we were some curious animals
brought from the other side of the Channel."
The meal was strangely prolonged after everything
like eating was over. Even conversation died down.
The mayor was evidently waiting for something, and
fidgeting at delay. The mayoress smiled mysteriously,
as if some important secret were in her keeping. The
La Forces wished to retire from table, but were chained
by the laws of courtesy; hints thrown out were appa-
rently not understood. At last the secret was disclosed.
The mayor had for the fifth or sixth time disappeared
into the adjoining room; now the folding-doors were
thrown open, and the portly man emerged with all the






POVERTY AND PRIDE.


dignity of the head of a deputation, carrying a scarlet
bag, which was heavy with gold. So many men, women,
and children pressed in after him, that the breakfast-
room was almost instantly filled. Some scrambled up
on chairs-two urchins even on the table, to obtain a
better view of the marquis and his family, and see the
joy with which they would receive the charitable con-
tributions which had been collected with such zeal.
"Moonseer the Marquis," said the mayor, advancing
towards his guest, and bowing low his bewigged head,
"I have the honour of being selected as"-the good man
stammered a little-" of-of being selected as the me-
dium of presenting to our illustrious visitors a bag of-
of-the contributions made by the ladies and citizens of
Dover-to relieve their-their-importunate need."
The face of the ruined nobleman was suffused with a
painful flush, even to the roots of his hair. Almost for
the first time in his life the marquis looked embarrassed,
and at a loss for words in which to reply. There was
no difficulty as regarded language, for the marquis had
been for two years in a school in Kent, and spoke flu-
ently in the English tongue. But La Force had never
before had charity money forced upon him, and the pub-
licity of the proceeding shocked his delicacy and wounded
his feelings. The marquis paused for several moments,
then, pressing his hand over his heart, made the follow-
ing reply:-







POVERTY AND PRIDE.


"I entreat you, Monsieur le Maire, to express our
gratitude to our generous English friends, and to believe
how deeply I feel their kindness as well as your own.
You will increase the obligation by adding the contents
of that purse to the contributions already so liberally
made for my exiled countrymen." Then, bowing grace-
fully, first to the mayor, then to the spectators right and
left, the peer of France, followed by his wife and daughter,
made his way out of the crowded room, and proceeded
to that which had been appropriated to his private use.
Looks of disappointment and feelings of mortification
were left behind them.
He's a bit too grand," murmured the mayor.
"He'll have to come down," observed a burgess's
wife who had been most active in collecting the
money.
Depend on't, the marquis didn't guess that the money
in the bag was all gold," remarked a grocer. It would
have been better to have left the silver and copper as
they were; he'd have preferred a bigger bag."
"Did I do right ?" said the marquis thoughtfully, as
he seated himself near a window, after drawing the cur-
tain so that he might not be visible from the street, into
which a stream of persons was now issuing from the
dwelling of the mayor.
0 father, you could not have done otherwise !" ex-
claimed Adl4e. "We are no beggars asking alms."







POVERTY AND PRIDE.


Did I do right ?" repeated la Force, his eyes resting,
not on his daughter, but his wife.
Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, and then replied:
"I think that my lord might have accepted without dis-
grace that which was given freely and cheerfully-given
to God in the person of His servant."
"It was pride, worldly pride in my heart," said the
marquis frankly-" pride that made me forget every-
thing but a sense of offended dignity. That pride, like
all else, must be given up. I shall learn my lesson in
time, I trust," he added more cheerfully, "at least with
you, my Elizabeth, for a teacher."
La Force was interrupted by the entrance of Rochet,
his faithful Huguenot attendant. The man looked em-
barrassed, and seemed as if he wished to speak to his
lady alone; but Elizabeth had no secrets to hide from
her husband.
"What did you get for the brooch, Rochet ?" she in-
quired. The brooch was the sole ornament, except her
wedding-ring, which the lady of La Force had been wear-
ing at the time of the shipwreck.
"Only this, madame," said Rochet sadly, though I
went to every jeweller in the town."
"It will be enough to take us to Raven's Nest,"
quietly observed the lady, as she received the money from
the hand of her servant. This little incident was a start-
ling revelation to Ad6le of the reality of the poverty







POVERTY AND PRIDE.


which had come like an armed man upon the family of
La Force.
"Rochet," said the Huguenot noble, remove these
silver buckles from my shoes."
"Ah, Monsieur le Marquis !" exclaimed the poor man
with a heavy sigh, as he went down on his knees to
obey.
"And call me no more by my title; in England I am
simply Monsieur la Force."
0 father, you will never drop your name !" exclaimed
Adele; even the cruel king did not, could not, rob you
of that."
"What are titles to the homeless and moneyless?"
said La Force with a melancholy smile-" like gilded
covers over dishes that have in them no food, to cover
their emptiness. There-keep these buckles for your-
self, Rochet; would that I had more to give so faithful
a servant! I have spoken in your favour to the mayor,
who has promised to find for you a good situation in
this town. God bless you, Rochet, my friend !"
La Force held out his hand, which the poor servant,
still on his knees, covered with kisses and tears.
Now the sooner we start for the home of your father
the better," said the marquis, addressing his wife.
















CHAPTER X.


A PACKET OF LETTERS.

THERE is no need to- describe the reception which Eliza-
beth and her family met with at the home of her father.
A few letters written from Raven's Nest, about ten days
after the arrival of the La Forces, will give an idea of
the life spent by the exiles under the roof of Mr.
Page:-
From Addle to Felicie Duval.
Mc chBre petite Cousine, nma charman te Felicie,-Oh
that I were beside thee now But as this is impossible,
I will not miss an opportunity of writing to thee a
second letter, and enclosing in it one for my darling
Louis. Ah will he ever receive it ? I am quite sure
that thy amiable papa will make every effort to find out
where my brother is now. We are desolate on Louis's
account, and I think of him day and night.
In my first letter I described our frightful shipwreck,
and our reception by the kindly but vulgar burgesses of
Dover; so I will not refer to these subjects now. Thou,






A PACKET OF LETTERS.


ma mignonne, wilt be dying to know what I think of
Raven's Nest, and the people who dwell therein.
Picture to thyself, ma Felicie, a bleak common, over
which the east winds blow with such force that the few
wretched trees all bend forward in an opposite direction,
as if they would run away if not tied by the roots!
Helas! I sympathize with the trees, and would fly too,
were I not bound as they are. By the side of this
common, we dwell in a dull, red-brick house, which has
a walled garden-yes, a garden, but not a flower grow-
ing in it! One looks out on turnips, potatoes, and
onions! Oh, for our parterres and flower-bordered ter-
race! I do believe that Mr. Page, had he come into
possession of such a garden as once was ours, would
have turned out roses to put in radishes, and camellias
to make room for cabbages. As for the interior of the
house, how shall I describe it, but by repetition of the
one word- re-bare-bare-bare No carpet on floors, no
tapestry on walls; some mats, indeed, but so old that
one has to guess at their original colours. The furniture
is so rickety that one should examine the state of the
legs of a chair before venturing to sit down on it.
The ancient clock has immovable hands. If a pane of
glass happens to get broken, one of the daughters mends
it as neatly as she can with paper.
But enough of the house; thou wilt like to hear some-
thing about the inmates. These consist of Mr. Page and







A PACKET OF LETTERS.


his two unmarried daughters, Lilly and Bridget, and a
maid-of-all-work (a very old maid indeed). The sisters,
poor things, though younger than la marquise, look
prematurely old and withered, like plants that have
been reared without a gleam of sunshine, in pots no
bigger than tea-cups. They are gentle and kindly
enough, especially Bridget, but stunted in size, and sub-
dued in manner. I think they could hardly muster up
a smile between them. How thou and Cousin Belinde
would laugh at their dresses, embroidered with patches,
and made in what was doubtless the fashion with house-
maids a century ago. I wonder if my lady step-mother
would have been like those poor Misses Page, if she had
not had the happiness of being transplanted in time to
dear, dear Chateau la Force! She is certainly very
superior to the rest of the family, and her sisters simply
adore her. Her coming has been a gleam of sunshine
to them, poor creatures, streaming through the barred
windows of their prison-like home.
But, ma Felicie, how shall I describe Mr. Page ? The
sight of him would fill thee with afre. Of course this
Anglais wears no wig, and the hair which I suppose
he once had has been almost entirely starved off his
head: I cannot look at it without thinking of a skull.
I cannot tell thee the colour of Mr. Page's eyes, for
he always wears blue spectacles; but I know well the
sound of his voice. It is always harsh and grating,






A PACKET OF LETTERS.


and is sometimes raised to a loud tone of anger, espe-
cially when he addresses the unfortunate Lilly and
Bridget, whom their father seems to regard as anvils
made to be hammered on. Poor Bridget, in her nervous
haste to obey her father's orders, chanced to break a
wine-glass, three days ago. She will never hear the end
of it! I fancy that Mr. Page was somewhat pleasanter
during his wife's lifetime, but avarice and temper have
grown with years, till he has become a miserly tyrant.
Thou wilt ask, How does the Marquis la Force get on
with a man who in everything is his very opposite?
0 Felicie, it makes my blood boil to see how that man
treats my father, my noble, courteous, chivalrous father.
It is not enough that the title of Marquis is dropped
(that gave me a pang), but even Monsieur is too much.
Mr. Page calls a French peer La Force," without any
addition at all, sometimes even dropping the La. It
almost seems to me as if this miserable wanted to pick
a quarrel with a guest to whom he grudges his meagre
fare, his wretched lodging. It appears that Mr. Page,
though a Protestant, holds some different opinions on
religious subjects from those held by us Huguenots. I
cannot tell thee one bit what his opinions are; but Mr.
Page is always trying to argue on these differences, and
gets quite angry because not every one can see through
his blue spectacles. My father keeps his own quiet
dignity, and never loses his temper, but I can see that






A PACKET OF LETTERS.


his patience is sorely tried. And oh, how my poor
step-mother feels when her father insults her husband!
She flushes, and looks so much distressed. I need not
say that we shall not remain one hour longer than we
can help in this horrible Raven's Nest. There is cer-
tainly only one raven in it, but he pecks at us all round,
pigeons and eagles alike.
I must now leave off, ma petite cousine, and write to
Louis while my candle holds out. I am committing the
crime of using up a whole tallow rushlight, for I am
penning this at night. I wonder when I shall see a
wax candle again, or a silver candelabra like that which
lies at the bottom of the sea. Pray, offer my salutations
to your naman, with much love to dear Cousin Jacques.
Don't let him forget to tell us anything that he can find
out about my lost brother. Believe me, amie cherie,
thy affectionate, half-starved, and de'solee
ADELE LA FORCE.

From Adele to Louis.
MY DARLING, DARLING BROTHER,-I do so hope that you
have received our letters. What would we not give for
one line from you! I am afraid that you may never
receive even this. Such a separation rends my heart !
Do you remember your once rather provoking me by
saying that I was unjust to our step-mother, and that
you thought her nice and good. Louis, you were right;






A PACKET OF LETTERS.


she is good. I do not think that any one could bear
herself better under difficult circumstances; and the
position is trying indeed. I have often said that no
one loves our father as I do; our mother cannot love
him more, but I think that she loves him better. There
is a difference, I see it now, between loving much and
loving well. There is selfishness in my love, and none
in mother's. I give way to my feelings, and that pains
my father; his wife never gives him a moment's un-
easiness that she can prevent. She bears her worries
quietly, and has always a word of cheer for her hus-
band. I never admired her at the chateau; I cannot
help admiring her here. La marquise is like my lost
opal ring, which looked dull white, except when held up
to the light, when it showed rich tints of ruby and
green. Madame's is a very practical kind of religion; it
really buoys her up, and keeps her temper sweet under
no small amount of trial. Going down into that Valley
of Humiliation described in the "Pilgrim's Progress "
is very hard work, at least I feel it so. I am always
tripping and stumbling; but our mother goes down
with a quick, firm step. I suppose this is because she
is ever looking towards the heavenly city beyond.
You may wonder why we stay in such a place as
Raven's Nest. We only stay because at present we
have no other place to which we can go. Our beloved
father is making every possible effort to procure em-
(106) 6







A PACKET Of LETTERS.


ployment-he-the Marquis la Force-the descendant
of heroes! He is out almost all day, seeking for a
situation, and returns home looking so pale and so tired;
a little disheartened, too, though our father never com-
plains-he always thinks that God knows best. Would
that I had such faith! Once my father thought that
he had succeeded in finding a place-such a place I
blush as I write about it. The peer of France was
to engage to sit in a haberdasher's shop from morning
till night, to keep accounts about tapes and buttons, and
overlook the young men at the counters. For this
wearisome, monotonous, I am tempted to say degrad-
ing work, a French marquis was to receive less salary
than a French cook! But our father was glad to do
anything for independence, and madame cheerfully agreed
to manage without a servant. (I suppose that she is to
be cook, and I housemaid, when we commence our
menage.) But even this miserable appointment is not
to be had. When all seemed to be arranged, the vulgar-
looking head of the firm-I think that his name is
Boggins-appeared, and asked for a word with my
father. Speaking to the marquis as he might have
done to a lackey, this man told him that his "hands "
were all ready to strike (whatever that may mean) at the
notion of being overlooked by a Frenchman. So, Force,
my good fellow, you must look for work somewhere
else." 0 Louis Louis to think of our falling so low !






A PACKET OF LETTERS.


I must brighten this sad letter by giving you a little
incident about our mother-you see I am dropping the
" step" at last. I saw her one day ripping off the fine
lace from her dress (I need not remind you that our
jewels are under the waves). I thought the madame
was going to wash the lace, and put it again on her
sleeves. But I never saw the lace any more, and the
very next day our father had a nice cup of coffee pre-
pared by the hands of his wife. Mr. Page never allows
coffee to his guests, nor tea; and father has, I am sure,
missed that which refreshes him more than anything
else. Somehow, I connected the lace with the coffee,
for I had seen a private tete-d-tete going on between
madame and the clergyman's nice wife, and I fancied,
from some words dropped by the latter, that mother
had disposed of something through her, our only lady
visitor here. My curiosity was awakened, so I said,
when madame and I were alone together, Our cook at
the chateau used to make coffee out of berries roasted
and ground; have you the art of making it out of
Brussels lace ?" La marquise saw that I guessed her
little secret, and she gave a pleasant smile. "I wish
that I were more like you, mother," I said. I had never
called her before by that name, though she had told me
to do so. To my surprise, the lady took me into her
arms and gave me a kiss-a good, hearty kiss, and said
(I think that there were tears in her eyes), "Ad6le, my







A PACKET OF LETTERS.


child! this recompenses me for much. Henceforth you
and I will face misfortunes together, and help to carry
each other's burdens." Was this not nice? I do believe
that I shall get fond of the Anglaise in time.
He'las! the rushlight has almost burned down to the
socket. I must go to bed in the dark. I have not
even time to sign my-

From the Marquis la Force to Louis.
MY DEAR SON,-In the uncertainty that this will ever
reach you, I will not write much. I would be torn by
anxiety for you, surrounded as you are by temptations,
did I not commit you to One who is able to save. Stand
fast in the faith, my boy; endure hardness, as a good soldier
of the Lord Jesus Christ. Your ancestor fell at Ivri
grasping his sword to the last--faithful till death. Even
so, never let go your hold of the Word of God. If the
book be taken from you, keep its words in your memory,
as steel in the scabbard, ready for use; grasped in the
hand of faith, neither man nor devil can withstand it.
Be constant and fervent in prayer: to say all in one
sentence-look nto Jesus; let the look be one of
faith, of hope, and of love. The Lord watches the
conflict, the King's eye is upon you; He will assuredly
give victory to those who trust only in Him. Your
loving father, BERTRAND LA FORCE.
















CHAPTER XI.


ALONE IN A CROWD.

WANDERING slowly about the less frequented parts of
Paris, listless, as if impelled by neither business nor
pleasure, we see the solitary figure of a man. He is
well dressed according to the fashion of the period; in
faultless symmetry falls each curl of his costly wig; but
the face beneath that wig is sad, and the downcast
eyes are seldom raised higher than the rich shoe-buckles
on his feet. Poor Jacques Duval has aged much during
the last twelve months. Though ten years younger
than his uncle the marquis, he looks at least as old; for
sorrow and humiliation often anticipate the work of
time. Duval spends much of the day out of doors; for
it is bitter to him to be at home and see going on that
of which he cannot approve, yet which he is powerless
to prevent. Jacques's presence is no pleasure to his
wife; he is regarded rather as an encumbrance, a
visible conscience feebly remonstrating with one re-
solved not to obey its voice. Duval has most bitterly







ALONE IN A CROWD.


repented of having suffered himself to be tricked into
compliance with the will of his wife.
The evil consequences of that compliance were soon
apparent. Madame Duval had had her own way; she
had snatched the reins from the weak hand of him
who had the right to guide, and now was driving on
to destruction. The house in which the Duvals had
long resided was changed as soon as possible for one
in a more fashionable quarter; and the new dwelling
became the scene of perpetual dissipation. Money was
recklessly squandered to secure the object of madame's
ambition-that of becoming a leader in the beaqu monde.
Protestantism was, of course, an obstacle in the way of
Belinde's obtaining her object; so she drove over it with
scarcely the semblance of hesitation. Jacques remon-
strated, entreated, even wept; but in vain. Madame
Duval and Felicie were, within a month of their return
to Paris, received into the Church of Rome. There was
even an affectation of zeal for the religion thus, from
worldly motives, embraced. Often was mass attended
in the morning when the evening had been given to the
theatre or the rout. Felicie's mother was resolved that
her daughter should be married to an aristocrat, and so
have the much-coveted privilege of entrance into the
court circle. For this object Madame Duval unceas-
ingly laid herself out. The peer might be old, blind,
profligate, or purse-proud; but he would give his wife







ALONE IN A CROWD.


position, and that was what Madame Duval craved, and
was determined on having at any price. She was em-
phatically of the earth, earthly;" the slave of the
world, and bound by its chains.
How inexpressibly lonely was a good, pious man,
such as was Jacques Duval, in such an unhallowed
home! Often did he ask himself whether it would
not be better to follow his uncle to England; but the
Huguenot felt that to do so would be to desert his
wife and child. He was the only link-alas! but a
weak one between his family and better things.
Were he to depart, even respectability might follow
honour and conscience.
Though in the Bible the Huguenot found some com-
fort, it was by no means comfort unmixed; the pages
of God's Word being so full of denunciations against
the very evils which Jacques had constantly before his
eyes. Vain were his protestations against them.
Papa, why do you interfere with us ? We don't
interfere with you; you go your way, and we go ours."
Such was the pert reply of Felicie to tender counsels
from a parent from whom she had never had a harsh
look. And these words were from his own child! from
her whose birth had caused the father such delight!
from her whom he had fondled in his bosom, danced in
his arms, and beside whose sick-bed he had offered such
fervent prayers! His parental advice was called inter-







ALONE IN A CROWD.


ference! The paths of father and daughter were sepa-
rate indeed: one trod a narrow, thorny one, leading to
life; the other, the broad way of destruction.
A few gleams of reflected light sometimes fell on the
painful road followed by Jacques Duval, from acts of
kindness which he secretly performed. If he was sel-
dom seen in gay assemblies, he was often seen in the
dwellings of the poor. If the courtier despised him,
the widow blessed him; and Jacques felt that, however
lonely, he was not quite useless on earth.
It had been more than a gleam of joy to Duval
when he had sent off by private hand, unknown to his
wife, a large sum of money to the Marquis la Force.
Jacques had done this, as soon as he could find safe
means of conveyance, after hearing of the loss of all his
uncle's property by the collision at sea. The supply
had arrived most opportunely on the very day after the
letters given in the last chapter had been penned. The
marquis had been greatly touched by the liberality and
consideration of his relative.
What is my lord's intention regarding this money ?"
inquired Elizabeth somewhat anxiously; for she could not
help fearing that her chivalrous husband might send
back to Duval the gold which the La Forces so sorely
needed. That very morning Mr. Page had ungraciously
told his daughter that he could not afford to fill three
extra mouths. Bertrand's reply was a relief to his wife.






ALONE IN A CROWD.


"I will accept the gift with gratitude to God and
my generous nephew; but I will not retain so large a
sum. One-tenth will supply our present need, and the
remainder I shall invest in the name of Jacques Duval.
The kind man may be glad to have it some day; for I
cannot believe that the true-hearted Huguenot will stay
very long in Paris."
No, indeed," said Elizabeth earnestly; surely the
Lord will reward poor Jacques for his goodness to us
by bringing him safely out of that Sodom."
The following day La Force left inhospitable Raven's
Nest. He offered his father-in-law money to pay for
the small expense to which he had been put. Poor
Elizabeth blushed with shame at a parent's meanness,
for Mr. Page clutched at the money.
But let us return to the Huguenot dwelling in Paris.
Duval had a special object in view, of which, under
all discouragements, he never lost sight. That object
was, to find his young cousin, Louis la Force. Jacques
pursued his search cautiously but steadily, yet for
nearly a year found it impossible to gain any certain
information regarding the youth. Being well known
to be a Huguenot, Duval was always a suspected man.
Ministers of State would grant him no audience, his
letters were returned unanswered-he could neither see
nor hear anything of the lost heir of La Force. At
last some information came in an unsuspected way.







ALONE IN A CROWD.


For the love of Mary, monsieur, come and see my
husband !" cried a thin, worn-out-looking woman, who
met Jacques one day at the corner of a street. My
poor Jean-he's a carpenter-fell from a scaffolding a
fortnight ago, and has never lifted up his head since.
I think he is dying." Tears fell fast from the poor
woman's eyes.
Where do you live ?" asked the pitying Jacques.
"Just down yon alley, monsieur. It's a poor place
to take your honour to. We only lodge in a garret."
There was One who lodged in a stable," thought
Jacques; and he bade her show him the way to her
husband.
A long, dark, dirty stair was ascended, and then the
French gentleman entered the small but neat room, in
which lay a dying man. Sickness had brought poverty;
but the carpenter was no beggar. He did not ask for
the relief which his visitor willingly gave. Jacques
gave sympathy as well as money. He sat down on
the sufferer's pallet and, as his days were evidently num-
bered, repeated slowly to him some texts from Scripture.
Sir, you are a Huguenot ? said the sick man.
I am," was the quiet reply.
The Huguenots are-God's people," faintly mur-
mured the sufferer. I served one of them once-the
Marquis la Force. He is a good man, if there was
ever a good one on earth."







ALONE IN A OROWD.


Yet he is banished from his country-ruined-his
only son taken from him," said Duval with a sigh.
I know where that young gentleman is," the car-
penter said.
"You know! Where-where is he ?" exclaimed
Duval in an excited tone of surprise. For the love
of Heaven, speak! I am the youth's own cousin."
The sick man looked strongly interested.
Monsieur, I know little," he said, but I will tell
you all that I know.-Fauchon, give me a drop of
water. Lift me up a little. I must speak while I
can." With effort the poor man went on: "I was
employed to do some repairs at the Monastery of the
Holy Sponge-it is not two leagues from Paris, to the
north-"
I know it, I know it," interrupted the impatient
hearer, who feared that the sick man's strength might
fail him before he could finish his story.
"I was busy at work on the scaffolding when the
prior and monks came in for vespers," continued the
carpenter, ever and anon stopping as if to gasp for
breath. With them came the students who are
brought up under their care. Amongst them was one
-one unlike the rest. I had not seen him for years,
and-he was so much changed! But I knew him at
once-he for whom I had made-the rabbit-hutch-
the son-yes, yes-the heir of the Marquis la Force."







ALONE IN A CROWD.


Did he see you-had you any word with him ?"
eagerly asked Duval.
Monsieur, that was impossible. He never looked
up; but-but I kept my eye on him. The service was
soon over," said the carpenter faintly; he went away
with the rest."
Did Louis la Force kneel to the Host ?" asked the
Huguenot anxiously.
"It was not high mass, monsieur. He-knelt in
prayer; but-but I can tell you no more."
Did he look well-happy ?" interrogated Jacques.
But the sufferer could no longer give a reply. His
eyes were closed, his strength was exhausted. But he
had said enough. Jacques Duval was grasping a clew.
He thrust a silver crown into the hand of the carpen-
ter's wife, promised to come soon again, and hastened
out of the room.
I have found him at last!" Jacques joyfully ex-
claimed, as with quickened steps he descended the dark,
rickety stair.
















CHAPTER XII.


THE MONASTERY.

EAGER to make the most of his unexpected discovery,
Duval, without returning to his own house, stopped the
first empty public conveyance which he met, and bade the
driver take him direct to the monastery. Jacques had
a handsome coach of his own, but he seldom entered it.
Madame Belinde liked to have it always at her own
disposal.
The monastery was a building of solid brickwork,
gloomy in appearance, and surrounded by walls so high
that it conveyed rather the idea of a prison than that
of a place devoted to religious uses. Looking between
the iron bars of the heavy gate, Duval noticed that the
windows, which were small and high from the ground,
were strongly grated. The bell which Jacques sounded
had a sound so deep and dull that it reminded him of
a death-knell. A tonsured monk, with a heavy bunch
of keys hanging from his leather girdle, a bare-footed
man, who looked as if he never had smiled or could







THE MONASTERY.


smile, answered the summons of the bell. Without
attempting to open the gate, the monk, through the
bars, asked the stranger what he wanted.
"I wish to see one of the students," said Duval.
"You cannot do so without the permission of the
reverend prior," was the reply.
Let me ask the prior, then. Open the gate. I have
a relative here; my name is Duval."
The warder looked critically at the stranger before he
decided whether Duval should be admitted or not. But
the monk concluded that the wearer of so expensive
and faultless a wig must be a gentleman, and possibly
connected with the court. Duval quickened the monk's
movements, as he was slowly fitting a large key into
the lock, by thrusting a piece of gold between the bars.
This settled the question regarding the stranger's rank;
the key was turned, and with an ominous grating sound
the heavy gate swung back on its hinges.
Duval entered a paved court which encircled three
sides of the building. Two or three bare-footed monks,
with rosaries in their hands, were slowly pacing this
court, and paused a moment in counting their beads, to
see who it was who had ventured to enter the precincts
of their prison. Duval eagerly scanned their faces, but
none in the slightest degree resembled that of Louis la
Force.
Another minute, and the threshold of the building






THE MONASTERY.


was crossed. The interior felt singularly cold, and
Jacques shivered as he entered the large gloomy hall.
Having traversed this, he was conducted to the private
parlour, in which the prior received his visitors. The
only ornaments of this room were a large crucifix, and a
painful picture of the martyrdom of some obscure saint.
A black rosary hung from a nail in the wall, and one
end of the apartment was covered by the sable drapery
of a heavy curtain. The monastery was one where the
rules were severe and rigid; it was utterly unlike*
others where the monks could feast and carouse, and
exchange all the gossip of the day. Duval felt un-
pleasantly reminded of tales which he had heard of the
Inquisition in Spain; he turned his back to the picture
of horrors, and rather nervously awaited the arrival of
the prior.
Jacques had to wait some time; he almost began to
think that his message had either not been delivered or
that it had been forgotten, when at last the black
curtain was moved back, and the prior entered. Duval
bowed low as the Roman priest, clad in a black robe,
girded with a rope, and holding a crucifix in his hand,
with air stately and severe, advanced a few paces towards
him. The prior did not ask the visitor to resume the
seat from which Jacques had risen on his entrance, but
himself remained standing, as if to indicate that the
interview should be brief. The hard lines on the






THE MONASTERY.


prior's stern pale features gave the impression that his
was a nature that had undergone a gradual process of
petrifaction.
"What is your business with me ?" asked the prior,
surveying the stranger with stern but impassive gaze.
"I am very desirous to obtain your kind-gracious
permission-to see my young cousin," stammered forth
Jacques in a nervous manner.
Who is your relative ? inquired the prior.
Louis la Force," was the reply.
The prior's gaze became more keen and penetrating.
"You are a Huguenot," he sternly observed, moving one
pace backwards, as if to breathe the same air as a
heretic breathed involved some moral pollution.
"I am a Huguenot," replied Duval, who never denied
his faith; "but I have his Majesty's gracious permission
to reside unmolested in Paris."
"You have not mine to intrude into these sacred
precincts in order to instil the poison of your heresy
into the minds of our youth."
"You will grant me a brief interview with my
relative," pleaded Duval; "it may be held in your
presence."
"I grant nothing," said the prior with a frown; "and
I must request you, monsieur, not to repeat visits which
are utterly vain. Your nephew-cousin-has abjured
his heretical opinions, he has conformed to our rules, and






THE MONASTERY.


received his first communion according to Catholic rites.
When old enough, Louis la Force will receive the tonsure
also, take his vows, and become one of the community
here."
Duval was greatly distressed. "Can this be true !"
burst from his lips.
Do you presume to doubt my word ? said the prior
severely. He pointed with an unmistakable gesture
towards the door, then added, Heretics find no place
within these walls; never approach them again."
Jacques bowed, and made his retreat into the open
air. As he passed through the paved court, the heavy
gate was a second time unclosed for a visitor, and a
gaily-attired gentleman of the court, who had come in a
dashing vehicle, entered the place. The courtier, who
has already been introduced to the reader as Baron
Perrot, bowed politely to Duval as he passed him; but
the Huguenot's mind was so preoccupied that he
scarcely noticed the greeting. Duval did not recog-
nize the gentleman whom he had met but once before,
and that in the preceding year; but Perrot remembered
him.
The prior was still in his parlour when Baron Perrot
was announced. He was received far more graciously
than Duval had been, and was requested to take a seat.
The young courtier was lively and bold; his cheerful
voice sounded strangely incongruous in that solemn place.
(106) 7






THE MONASTERY.


"I saw Monsieur Duval coming out as I entered,"
said Perrot, after the first salutations had passed;
"doubtless he came to see his young cousin. But you,
reverend father, are not likely to let him carry off a
lamb from your flock."
"A lamb !" muttered the prior; "say rather a lion's
cub. Such an untamable young heretic I had never
met with before."
"You have doubtless been trying to draw his fangs
and clip his claws," said the gay young baron.
"In obedience to his Majesty's will I have done all
that I could to reclaim the youth," was the gloomy
prior's reply. Of course his books were taken away
from the first, but he seems to have learned their
contents by heart. For every argument brought for-
ward by us the young heretic has an answer."
But there are some sharp arguments which are not
easily answered," observed Perrot, with a significant
smile.
"Such have been tried again and again. The young
reprobate has had a good many more fasts than the
Church prescribes," said the prior grimly, and solitary
confinement besides. Sterner discipline has also been
applied, but the wretched boy has borne all with the
air of a martyr. Then his health failed, and we were
afraid that he might slip out of our hands. Louis's case
is hopeless. One cannot wash out the veins in marble







THE MONASTERY.


with holy water. I believe that if that boy were cut
into a hundred pieces, his last drop of blood would be
tainted with the poison of heresy."
"Reverend father, we are now going to take your
troublesome patient out of your hands, and try a
different kind of treatment," said Baron Perrot. "It
appears that Madame la grande Dauphine took a fancy
to the handsome boy as well as to his sister some time
ago, and thought that he would make a remarkably
good-looking page. His father, though a Huguenot, is
a man of high rank and stainless honour. His an-
cestors rendered great services to the State, which our
gracious monarch deigns to hold in remembrance. The
great king has determined that this youth shall keep the
La Force title and estate as a Catholic peer."
"He is an out-and-out heretic," muttered the prior.
"Have you never, reverend father, heard the fable of
the sun and the wind contending for the traveller's
cloak ? The sunshine of a princess's smile will do more
to make a spirited youth cast off his heretical rags than
all the wind of priestly exhortation, or the pelting hail
of castigation. Here is my warrant," continued the
young baron, politely handing over a paper to the prior.
"You see that I have royal authority for taking La
Force with me to the palace. Will it please you to
summon the young gentleman at once ? for I have a
double engagement for this evening, and no time to spare."






THE MONASTERY.


With ill grace the prior rang sharply a hand-bell that
lay on the table beside him. The summons was
answered by a bare-footed monk.
Bring the boy La Force into my presence at once,"
said the prior. As the monk retired to obey the com-
mand, the head of the monastery remarked with a
frown which belied his words, "I am heartily glad to
get rid of my heretic charge." He then added, "It is
but fair to let you know, Monsieur le Baron, that you
will have a slippery subject to deal with. This wretched
youth has, in the most daring manner, twice attempted
to escape; and the second time, in spite of extraordinary
precautions, he almost succeeded."
"We will have silken fetters for the wild bird,"
laughed Perrot; "they bind faster than those of iron."
A few minutes of silence ensued, and then the black
folds of the curtain were again drawn aside, to admit
the entrance of the heir of La Force. Perrot was
shocked at the change in the appearance of the youth
whom he had taken, radiant in health and beauty, from
the Huguenot establishment in which the marquis had
placed his son. Louis had become much taller, much
thinner, and much paler. His fine hazel eyes had lost
their brilliance, and, sunken as they were, looked un-
naturally large. The captive, however, entered the
room with no faltering step, but with an air of
resolution, as one prepared to endure. Great was the




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