"Save yourself, mother," cried Hena between her sobs; "he is gone crazy; he will kill you. Only your timely help saved me from his violent assault."
"Infamous boy!" cried the mother. "That, then, was your purpose in removing me from the house. God willed that half way to La Catelle's I met her brother-in-law—"
"Be gone!" thundered back Hervé, a prey to uncontrollable delirium; and raising the iron coal-rake which he had lowered under the first impulse of surprise at the sight of his mother, he staggered towards Bridget yelling: "Be gone!"
"Matricide! Dare you raise that iron bar against me—your mother?"
"All my crimes are absolved in advance! Incest—parricide—all are absolved! Be gone, or I kill you!"
Hardly were these appalling words uttered, when the sound of numerous and rapidly approaching steps penetrated into the apartment through the door that Bridget had left open. Almost immediately a troop of patrolling archers, under the command of a sergeant-at-arms, and led by a man in a black frock with the cowl drawn over his head, halted and drew themselves up before the houseof Christian. The Franc-Taupin had met them a short distance from the Exchange Bridge. A few words, exchanged among the soldiers, notified him of the errand they were on. Alarmed at what he overheard, he had quickly retraced his steps and followed them at a distance. The sergeant in command stepped in at the very moment that Hervé uttered the last menace to his mother.
"Does Christian Lebrenn dwell here?" asked the soldier. "Answer quickly."
Ready to sink distracted, Bridget was not at first able to articulate a word. Hena gathered strength to rise from the floor where Hervé had flung her, and ran to Bridget, into whose arms she threw herself. Hervé dropped at his feet the iron implement he had armed himself with, and remained motionless, savage of mien, his arms crossed over his breast. The man whose face was hidden by the cowl of his black frock—that man was John Lefevre, the disciple of Ignatius Loyola—whispered a few words in the ear of the sergeant. The latter again addressed Bridget, now in still more peremptory tones:
"Is this the dwelling of Christian Lebrenn, a typesetter by trade?"
"Yes," answered Bridget, and greatly alarmed by the visit of the soldiers, she added: "My husband is not at home. He will not be back until late."
"You are the wife of Christian Lebrenn?" resumed the sergeant, and pointing to Hena and then to Hervé: "That young girl and that young man are your children, are they not? By order of Monsieur John Morin, the CriminalLieutenant, I am commissioned to arrest Christian Lebrenn, a printer, his wife, his son and his daughter as being charged with heresy, and to take them to a safe place."
"My husband is not at home!" cried Bridget, her first thought being to the safety of Christian, although herself stupefied with fear at the threatened arrest. That instant, and standing a few steps behind the archers, the Franc-Taupin, taller by a head than the armed troop before him, caught the eyes of Bridget. With a sign he warned her to keep silent. He then bent his long body in two, and vanished.
"Do you want to make us believe your husband is not at home?" resumed the sergeant. "We shall search the house." Then turning to his men: "Bind the hands of that young man, of the young girl and of the woman, and keep guard over the prisoners."
John Lefevre, his face still concealed under the cowl of his frock, could not be recognized by Bridget. He knew the inmates of the house, at whose hearth he had often sat as a friend. He motioned to the sergeant to follow him, and taking a lanthorn from the hand of one of the archers, mounted the stairs, entered the chamber of the married couple, and pointing with his finger to a cabinet in which Christian kept his valuables, said to him:
"The papers in question must be in there, in a little casket of black wood."
The key stood in the lock of the cabinet. The sergeantopened the two doors. From one of the shelves he took down a casket of considerable proportions.
"That is the one," said John Lefevre. "Give it to me. I shall place it in the hands of Monsieur the Criminal Lieutenant."
"That Christian must be hiding somewhere," remarked the sergeant, looking under the bed, and behind the curtains.
"It is almost certain," answered John Lefevre. "He rarely goes out at night. There is all the greater reason to expect to find him in at this hour, seeing he spent part of last night out of the house."
"Why did they not try to arrest him during the day at the printing office of Monsieur Estienne?" the sergeant inquired while keeping up his search. "He could not have been missed there."
"As to that, my friend, I shall say, in the first place, that, due to the untoward absence of Monsieur the Criminal Lieutenant, who was summoned early this morning to Cardinal Duprat's palace, our order of arrest could not be delivered until too late in the evening. In the second place, you know as well as I that the artisans of Monsieur Estienne are infected with heresy; they are armed; and might have attempted to resist the arrest of their companion. No doubt the archers would have prevailed in the end. But Christian might have made his escape during the struggle, whereas the chances were a thousand to one he could be taken by surprise at his house, in the dark, along with his family."
"And yet he still escapes us," observed the sergeant, after some fresh searches. Noticing the door of Hena's chamber, he entered and rummaged that room also, with no better results, and said: "Nothing in this direction either."
"Come, let us investigate the garret. Give me the lanthorn, and follow me. If he is not there either, then we must renounce his capture for to-night. Fortunately we got the woman and the children—besides this," added the Jesuit, tapping upon the casket under his arm. "We shall find Christian, sure enough."
Saying this, John Lefevre opened the panel leading to the nook where stood the ladder to the attic; he climbed it, followed by the sergeant, arrived in the garret which had served as refuge to the unknown, noticed the mattress, some crumbs of bread and the remains of some fruit, pens and an inkhorn on a stool, and, scattered over the floor, fragments of paper covered with a fine and close handwriting.
"Somebody was hiding here, and spent some time, too!" exclaimed the sergeant excitedly. "This mattress, these pens, indicate the presence of a stranger of studious habits;" and running to the dormer window that opened upon the river, he mused: "Can Christian have made his escape by this issue?"
While the archer renewed his search, vainly rummaging every nook and corner of the garret, John Lefevre carefully collected the bits of paper that were strewn over the floor, assorted them, and kneeling down beside the stool, onwhich he placed the lanthorn, examined the manuscript intently. Suddenly a tremor ran over his frame, and turning to the sergeant he said:
"There is every reason to believe that Christian Lebrenn is not in the house. I think I can guess the reason of his absence. Nevertheless, before quitting the place we must search the bedroom of his two sons. It is in the rear of the ground floor room. Let us hurry. Your expedition is not yet ended. We shall probably have to leave Paris to-night, and carry our investigation further."
"Leave Paris, reverend Father?"
"Yes, perhaps. But I shall first have to notify the Criminal Lieutenant. What a discovery! To be able at one blow to crush the nest of vipers!—ad majorem Dei gloriam!"[34]
John Lefevre and the sergeant re-descended to the ground floor. After a few whispered words to the soldier, the Jesuit departed, carrying with him the casket in which the chronicles of the Lebrenn family were locked.
The chamber occupied by Hervé was ransacked as vainly as had been the other apartments of the house. During these operations Bridget had striven to allay the fright of her daughter. Hervé, somber and sullen, his hands bound like his mother's and sister's, remained oblivious to what was happening around him. Giving up the capture of Christian, the sergeant returned to his prisoners and announced to Bridget that he was to carry both her and her children away with him. The poor woman implored himto take pity on her daughter who was hardly able to keep her feet. The sergeant answered harshly, that if the young heretic was unable to walk she would be stripped and dragged naked over the streets. Finally, addressing his archers, he concluded:
"Three of you are to remain in this house. When Christian raps to be let in you will open the door, and seize his person."
Bridget could not repress a moan of anguish at hearing the order. Christian, she reflected, was fatedly bound to fall into the trap, as he would return home unsuspecting. The three archers locked themselves up on the ground floor. The others, led by their chief, left the house, and, taking Bridget and her two children with them, marched away to lead them to prison.
"For mercy's sake," said the unhappy mother to the sergeant, "untie my hands that I may give my daughter the support of my arm. She is so feeble that it will be impossible for her to follow us."
"That's unnecessary," answered the sergeant. "On the other side of the bridge you will be separated. You are not to go to the same prison as your daughter."
"Good God! Where do you mean to take her to?"
"To the Augustinian Convent. You are to go to the Chatelet. Come, move on, move quickly."
Hervé, who had until then remained sullenly impassive, said impatiently to the sergeant:
"If I am to be taken to a convent, I demand to go to the Cordeliers."
"The Criminal Lieutenant is to decide upon that," replied the sergeant.
After a short wait, the archers took up their march. Alas! How shall the pain and desolation of Hena and her mother be described at learning they were not to be allowed even the consolation of suffering this latest trial in each other's company? Nevertheless, a ray of hope lighted Bridget's heart. Her last words with the sergeant had been exchanged near the cross that stood in the middle of the bridge, and close to which the archers were passing at the time. Christian's wife saw the Franc-Taupin on his knees at the foot of the crucifix, gesticulating wildly, raising his head and crying out like a frantic devotee:
"Lord! Lord!Thy eye has seen everything. Thy ear has heard everything; there is nothing hidden from Thee. Have pity upon me, miserable sinner, that I am! Thanks to Theehe will be saved. I hope so! In the name of the most Holy Trinity."
"There is a good Catholic who will not fail to be saved," said the sergeant, making the sign of the cross and looking at the kneeling figure of the Franc-Taupin, who furiously smote his chest without intermission, while the archers redoubled their pace and marched away, dragging their prisoners behind them.
"God be blessed!" said Bridget to herself, understanding the information that Josephin meant to convey. "My brother has seen everything and heard everything. He will remain in the neighborhood of the house. He expects to save Christian from the danger that threatens him. Hewill inform Christian that his daughter has been taken to the Augustinian Convent and I to the Chatelet prison."
Such indeed was the purpose of the Franc-Taupin. When the archers had disappeared he drew near to Christian's house and contemplated it sadly and silently by the light of the moon. Accidentally his eyes fell upon a scapulary that had dropped near the threshold. He recognized it, having more than once seen it hanging on the breast of Hervé. The strings of the relic had snapped during the struggle of Hena with her brother, and the bag being thus detached from Hervé's neck it had slipped down between his shirt and his jacket, and dropped to the ground. The Franc-Taupin picked up the relic, and opened it mechanically. Finding therein the letter of absolution, he ran his eye hurriedly over the latter, and at once replaced it in the scapulary.
While the events narrated in the previous chapter were occurring at his house, Christian Lebrenn was climbing in the company of his mysterious guest the slope of Montmartre, along the path that led to the abbey.
"Monsieur Lebrenn," said Monsieur John, who had been in deep silence, "I should feel guilty of an act of ingratitude and of mistrust were I any longer to withhold from you my name. Perhaps it is not unknown to you. I am John Calvin."
"I feel happy, monsieur, in having given asylum to the chief of the Reformation, to the valiant apostle who has declared war to Catholicism, and who propagates the new ideas in France."
"Alas, our cause already counts its martyrs by the thousands. Who knows but I may soon be added to their number? My life is in the hands of the Lord."
"Our enemies are powerful."
"Among these, the most redoubtable ones will be the Jesuits, the sectarians whose secret you surprised. Their purposes were not so well concealed but that I already had intimation of the endeavors of their chief to gather aroundhimself active, devoted and resolute men. Hence the lively interest I felt in the narrative of your relative, the one-time page of Ignatius Loyola, when the latter was still a military chieftain. That revelation, coupled with yours, has given me the key to the character of the founder of the Society of Jesus, his craving after power, and the means that he uses in order to satisfy his ambition. The military discipline, that turns the soldier into a passive instrument of his captain, is to be applied to the domination of souls, which are to be rendered no less passive, no less servile. His project is to center in himself, to direct and to subjugate human conscience, thanks to a doctrine that extenuates and encourages the most detestable passions. Ignatius Loyola said the word: 'The penitent of a Jesuit will see the horizon of his most ardent hopes open before him; all paths will be smoothed before his feet; a tutelary mantle will cover his defects, his errors and his crimes; to incur his resentment will be a dreaded ordeal.'"
"I shuddered as I heard that man distribute the empire of the world among his disciples in the name of such an impious doctrine. It cannot choose—the painful admission must be made—but impart to the Jesuits a formidable power until man be regenerated. Thanks, however, to God, the Reformation also now counts fervent adepts."
"The disciples of the Reformation are still few in number, but their influence upon the masses of the people is no less extensive, due to the moral force of our doctrine. All straightforward, pure and generous souls are with us. Men of learning, poets, merchants, enlightened artisanslike yourself, Monsieur Lebrenn; rich men, bourgeois, artists, professors; even military men will gather this evening at our meeting to confess the true Evangelium."
"Civil war is a fearful extremity. All the same, the day may come when the men of arms will be needed by the Reformation."
"May that untoward day never arrive! My opinion is that patience, resignation and respect for the laws and the Crown should be carried to the utmost limit possible. Nevertheless, should the sword have to be drawn, not for the purpose of imposing the Evangelical church through violence, but for the purpose of defending our lives, and the lives of our brothers, I should not, then, hesitate to call upon the men of arms who are partisans of the Reformation. Among these, it is my belief, we shall number a young man who has barely emerged from adolescence, and who gives promise of becoming a great captain at maturer age. He is called Gaspard of Coligny. His father bore himself bravely in the late wars of Italy and Germany. He died leaving his sons still in their childhood. Madam Coligny raised them in the Evangelical faith. About a year ago I found a place of refuge under her roof, at her castle of Chatillon-on-the-Loing, in Burgundy. I there met her eldest son, Gaspard. The precocious intellectual maturity of the lad, his devotion to our cause, awakened in me the best of hopes. He will be one of the pillars of the new temple—besides a terrible enemy raised against the Pope and Satan."
"Monsieur," put in Christian, interrupting John Calvin in a low voice, "we are shadowed. I have noticed for some little while three men not far behind us, who seem to be timing their steps to ours."
"Let us stop, let us allow them to pass. We shall ascertain whether they are bent upon following us. They may be friends, like ourselves bound to our assembly."
Christian and John Calvin halted. Shortly they were passed by three men clad in dark colors, and all three carrying swords. One of these seemed, as he passed closely by John Calvin, to scan his face intently in the moonlight. A moment later, after having proceeded a little distance with his friends, he left them, retraced his steps, and walking towards Christian and his companion, said, courteously touching his cap with his hand:
"Monsieur Calvin, I am happy to meet you."
"Monsieur Coligny!" exclaimed the reformer gladly. "You did come—as I hoped you would."
"It was natural I should respond to the summons of him whose doctrines I share, and for whom my mother entertains so much esteem and affection."
"Are the two gentlemen you are with of our people, Monsieur Coligny?"
"Yes. One is French, the other a foreigner, both devoted to our cause. I have felt safe to bring them to our assembly. I vouch for them, as for myself. The foreigner is a German Prince, Charles of Gerolstein, a cousin of the Prince of Deux-Ponts, and, like him, one of the boldest followers of Luther. My other friend, a younger son of Count Neroweg of Plouernel, one of the great seigneurs ofBrittany and Auvergne, is as zealous in favor of the Reformation as his elder brother for the maintenance of the privileges and dominion of the Church of Rome."
"Sad divisions of the domestic hearth!" observed John Calvin with a sigh. "It is to be hoped the truth of the Evangelium may penetrate and enlighten all the hearts of the great family of Christ!"
"May that era of peace and harmony soon arrive, Monsieur Calvin," replied Gaspard of Coligny. "The arrival of that great day is anxiously desired by my friend Gaston, the Viscount of Plouernel and captain of the regiment of Brittany. With all his power has he propagated the Reformation in his province. To draw you his picture with one stroke, I shall add that my mother has often said to me I could not choose a wiser and more worthy friend than Gaston Neroweg, the Viscount of Plouernel."
"The judgment of a mother, and such a mother as Madam Coligny, is not likely to go astray regarding her son's choice of his friends," answered John Calvin. "Our cause is the cause of all honorable people. I would like to express to your friends my great gratification at the support they bring to us."
Gaspard of Coligny stepped ahead to inform his friends of John Calvin's wish that they be introduced to him.
Upon hearing the name of the Viscount of Plouernel, Christian had started with surprise. Accident was bringing him in friendly contact with one of the descendants of the Nerowegs, that stock of Frankish seigneurs which the sons of Joel the Gaul had, in the course of generations, sooften encountered, to their sorrow. He felt a sort of instinctive repulsion for the Viscount of Plouernel, and cast upon him uneasy and distrustful looks as, accompanied by Gaspard of Coligny and Prince Charles of Gerolstein, he stepped towards John Calvin. While the latter was exchanging a few words with his new friends, Christian examined the descendant of Neroweg with curiosity. His features reproduced the typical impress of his race—bright-blonde hair, aquiline nose, round and piercing eyes. Nevertheless, the artisan was struck by the expression of frankness and kindness that rendered the young man's physiognomy attractive.
"Gentlemen," said John Calvin, whose voice interrupted the meditations of Christian, "I am happy, in my turn, to introduce you to one of ours, Monsieur Lebrenn, a worthy coadjutor in the printing office of our friend Robert Estienne. Monsieur Lebrenn has incurred no little danger in affording hospitality to me. Moreover, it is to him we are indebted for the discovery of the locality where we are to meet to-night."
"Monsieur," replied Gaspard of Coligny addressing Christian with emotion, "my friends and I share the sentiments of gratitude that Monsieur John Calvin entertains for you."
"Besides that, Monsieur Lebrenn," added Neroweg, the Viscount of Plouernel, "I am delighted to meet one of the assistants of the illustrious Robert Estienne. All that we, men of arms and war, have to place at the service of the cause of religious liberty is our sword; but you and yourcompanions in your pursuit, you operate a marvelous talisman—the press! Glory to that invention! Light follows upon darkness. No longer is Holy Writ, in whose name the Church of Rome imposed so many secular idolatries upon the people, an impenetrable mystery. Its truth owes to the press its second revelation. Finally, thanks to the effect of the press, the hope is justified that Evangelical fraternity will one day reign on earth!"
"You speak truly, Monsieur Plouernel. Yes, the invention of the press bears the mark of God's hand," observed John Calvin. "But the night advances. Our friends are surely waiting for us. Let us move on, and join them."
With Gaspard of Coligny on one side, and the Viscount of Plouernel on the other, John Calvin, the great promoter of the new doctrines, proceeded to climb the slope of the hill of Montmartre.
Much to his regret, the extreme astonishment that the affable words of the descendant of the Plouernels threw him into, deprived Christian of the power to formulate an answer. He followed John Calvin in silence, without noticing that, for some time, Prince Charles of Gerolstein was examining him with increasing attention. This seigneur, a man in the full vigor of life, tall of stature, of a strong but open countenance, fell a little behind his friends and joined Christian, whom he thus addressed after walking a few steps beside him:
"Believe me, monsieur, if, a minute ago, I failed to render just praise, as my friends did, to the courageous hospitality you accorded John Calvin, I do not, therefore,appreciate any the less the generosity of your conduct. It was that your name fell strangely upon my senses. It awoke within me numerous recollections—family remembrances."
"My name, Prince?"
"Spare me that princely title. Christ said: 'All men are equal before God.' We are all brothers. Your name is Lebrenn? Is Armorican Brittany the cradle of your family?"
"Yes, monsieur. It is."
"Did your family live near the sacred stones of Karnak, before the conquest of Gaul by Julius Caesar?"
Christian looked at Charles of Gerolstein without attempting to conceal his astonishment at meeting a stranger acquainted with incidents that ran back so many centuries in his family's history. The Prince pursued his interrogatory:
"Towards the middle of the Eighth Century, one of your ancestors, Ewrag by name, and son of Vortigern, one of the most intrepid defenders of the independence of Brittany, and grandson of Amael, who knew Charlemagne, left his native land to take up his home in the lands of the far North."
"Yes, after the great Armorican insurrection. During that uprising the Bretons appealed for aid to the Northman pirates, who had established themselves at the mouth of the Loire. Ewrag afterwards embarked for the North with those sea-faring peoples."
"Did he not leave behind two brothers?"
"Rosneven and Gomer."
"Ewrag, who first settled down in Denmark, had a grandson named Gaëlo. In the year 912 he was one of the pirate chiefs who came down and besieged Paris under the command of old Rolf, later Duke of Normandy. Gaëlo was recognized as a member of your family by Eidiol, at that time dean of the Parisian skippers."
"Yes, indeed. Gaëlo was taken wounded into the house of my ancestor Eidiol. While dressing the wound of the Northman pirate, the words 'Brenn—Karnak' were discovered, traced with indelible letters on his arm. It was a custom, often followed in those disastrous days, when ware or slavery frequently scattered a family to the four winds. They hoped, thanks to the indelible marks, to recognize one another should fresh upheavals happen to throw them again in one another's way."
"After wedding the Beautiful Shigne, one of the Buckler Maidens who joined the expedition of Rolf, Gaëlo returned to the North. Since then there have been no tidings of him."
"Yes. For all these past centuries we have remained in ignorance concerning that branch of our family. But, monsieur, I cannot understand how you, a German Prince, can possess such exact information of my humble family, which, besides, is of Gallic race. I wish you would explain yourself."
Christian was interrupted by John Calvin, who, turning back, said to him:
"Here we are at the top of the hill. Which path arewe to follow now out of the many in sight? Be so good as to lead us out of this maze."
"I shall walk ahead, and show you the path to follow," answered Christian.
As Christian hastened his steps to take the lead of the group, the Prince of Gerolstein said to him:
"I can not at this moment carry on the conversation that for a thousand reasons I am anxious to hold with you. Where could I meet you again?"
"I live on the Exchange Bridge, facing the right side of the cross as you come from the Louvre."
"I shall call upon you to-morrow evening, Monsieur Lebrenn;" and extending his hand to the artisan, Prince Charles of Gerolstein added: "Give me your hand, Christian Lebrenn, we are of the same blood. The cradle of my own stock is old Armorican Gaul. The course of the centuries, and the accidents of conquest have raised my house to sovereign rank, but it is of plebeian origin."
After cordially clasping the hand of the amazed Christian, the Prince rejoined John Calvin and his friends. At that moment, Justin, who had been stationed on the lookout at the head of the rocky path that led to the quarry, walked rapidly up to his fellow workman, saying:
"I had begun to feel uneasy. All the persons who have been convoked to the meeting have arrived long ago. I counted sixty-two. I am here on the lookout. Master Robert Estienne requested one of our friends to plant himself near the mouth of the excavation leading to the underground issue of the cavern. You know that gallery,cut behind the large rock, which recently sheltered us from the eyes of Loyola and his disciples. I inspected the passage this morning. It is open."
"In case of danger you will run and notify the assembly. I understand."
"From his side also Master Robert Estienne's friend will give the alarm in case of need. It is not likely the quarry will be invaded by both passages at once. One will always remain free. Our friends can deliberate in perfect safety."
"If the gathering is not disturbed by some accident, friend Justin, I shall return by this path and we shall reenter Paris together."
"Agreed. Our arrangements are made."
A moment later, Christian, John Calvin and his friends entered the quarry. There they found assembled the leading partisans of the Reformation in Paris—lawyers, literary men, rich merchants, seigneurs, courtiers and men of arms and of science. Thus, besides Gaspard of Coligny, Prince Charles of Gerolstein and the Viscount of Plouernel, there were present the following personages of distinction: John Dubourg, a Parisian draper of St. Denis Street; Etienne Laforge, a rich bourgeois; Anthony Poille, an architect, and brother-in-law of Mary La Catelle, who, herself, had been invited as one of the most useful promoters of the Reformation; Clement Marot, one of the most renowned poets of those days; a young and learned surgeon named Ambroise Paré, the hope of his art and science, a charitable man who opened his purse even to thesufferers whom he attended; and Bernard Palissy, a potter, whose work will be imperishable, and who is as well versed in alchemy as he is celebrated in sculpture. A small number of chiefs of guilds were also present. The guilds, being plunged in ignorance, were still under the influence of the monks, and entertained a blind hatred for the Reformation. A few wax candles, brought along by several of the persons present, lighted the bowels of the cavern and threw a flickering glamor upon those grave and thoughtful faces. When John Calvin entered the cavern he was recognized by some of the reformers. His name immediately flew from mouth to mouth. Those who had not yet seen him drew nearer to contemplate him. The resolute stamp of his character was reflected upon his pensive countenance. A profound silence ensued. The reformers ranked themselves in a circle around their apostle. He stepped upon a block of stone in order to be better heard, and proceeded to address them:
"My dear brothers, I have just traversed the larger portion of France. I have conferred with most of our pastors and friends in order to determine in concert with them the articles of faith of the Evangelical religion, the basis of which was laid by the immortal Luther. If the formula of our common belief is adopted by you, such as it has been adopted by most of our friends, the unity of the reformed church will be an established thing. This is our Credo:[35]
"'We believe and confess that there is one only God,a sole, spiritual, eternal, invisible, infinite, incomprehensible, immutable essence, who is all-powerful, all-wise, all-good, all-just and all-merciful.'"
"That we believe; that we confess," answered the reformers.
"'We believe and confess,'" continued Calvin, "'that God manifests Himself as such to man by creation, and by the preservation and guidance of creation; furthermore, by the revelation of His Word, gathered by Moses, and which constitutes what we call Holy Writ, contained in the canonical books of the Old and the New Testament.'"
"That is the Book; the only Book; the Code of good and evil; the instructor of men and of children alike; the divine source of all goodness, all power, all consolation, all hope!" responded the reformers.
"Moses was a disciple of the priests of Memphis. I can well see how he gave out this or that Egyptian dogma, as emanating from divine revelation—but that remains, however, a hypothesis. I do not accept the pretended sacredness of the texts," said Christian Lebrenn, apart; while Calvin continued:
"'We believe and confess that the Word contained in the sacred books, which proceed from God to man, is the norm of all truth; that it is not allowable for man to change the same in aught; that custom, judgments, edicts, councils and miracles must in no manner be opposed to Holy Writ, but, on the contrary, must be reformed by it.'"
"We want the Word of God pure and simple. We want it disengaged of all the Romish impostures, that, for centuries,have falsified and perverted it," the reformers replied.
"Here," said Christian, again to himself, "here starts the freedom of inquiry. That is the reason for my adherence to the Reformation." Calvin resumed:
"'We believe and confess that Holy Writ teaches us that the divine essence consists of three persons—the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, and that this Trinity is the source of all visible and invisible things. That is our belief.'"
"It is an article of faith with us; it is the foundation of our religion," chorused the reformers, while Christian Lebrenn added, to himself:
"This also belongs to the domain of hypothesis—and of religious absurdities. One more article of faith to be rejected."
"'We believe and confess,'" continued Calvin, "'that man, having been born pure and clean in the image of God, is, through his own sin, fallen from the grace he had received, and that all the descendants of Adam are tainted with original sin, down to the little children in their mothers' wombs. That is our belief on these subjects.'"
"We are bound to accept all that is found in the sacred books. The will of the Lord is impenetrable—let it be done in all things. Our reason must humble itself before that which seems incomprehensible," was the response of the reformers.
"Oh, God of Love and Mercy!" exclaimed Christian Lebrenn, apart. "To proclaim in Thy name that Thy willsmites the unborn child even in its mother's womb! Just God! Thou who knowest all things—past, present and to come—Thou knewest Thy creature, man, who is not but because Thou hast said, Be! was bound to fall into sin. Thou knewest it. Generations upon generations, all guiltless of the sin of the first man, were to undergo the terrible chastisement that it has pleased Thee to inflict upon them. Thou knewest it. And yet, Thou art supposed to have said: 'Man, you will fall into sin. The original stain shall mark your children even in their mothers' wombs'! Merciful God! Pardon the infirmity of my intellect. I cannot believe a father will devote his own children to eternal misery. I cannot believe a father can take pleasure in allowing his children's mind to waver between justice and injustice, especially when he knows beforehand they are fatedly certain to elect iniquity, and when he knows the consequence of their choice will be fearful to themselves and to all their posterity. Just God! What is the constant aim of the thoughts and efforts of every honorable man, within the limits of his faculties? To give his children such an education as will keep them from the path of vice; an education that may justify him to say: 'My children will be upright men!' And yet, Thou, almighty God, Thou art supposed to have said: 'Iwillthat the evil inclinations of my children carry the day over the good ones; Iwillthat they become criminals, and that they be forever damned!' Never shall I accept such a doctrine."
John Calvin continued his Credo:
"'We believe and confess that, as a consequence of original sin, man, corrupt of body, blind of mind, and depraved of heart, has lost all virtue, and, although he has still preserved some discernment of right and wrong, falls into darkness when he aspires to understand God with the aid of his own intelligence and human reason. Finally, although he should have the will to choose between right and wrong, his will being the captive of sin, he is fatedly devoted to wrong, is destined to malediction, and is not free to choose the right but by the grace of God.'"
"Such," responded the reformers, "is the will of the Lord. We fall into darkness if we strive to understand God with the aid of our own reason."
"No! No!" Christian said to himself, "God never said: 'My creatures, instead of loving Me and adoring Me in all the splendor of My glory, shall adore Me in the darkness of their intelligence, dimmed by My will.' No! God has not said: 'Man, you shall be fatedly devoted to wrong! You shall be for all time a captive of sin! I enclose you within an iron circle from which there is no escape but by My grace!' If God's omnipotence made man sinful or good, why punish or reward him? Another article of faith to be rejected."
"'We believe and confess,'" Calvin proceeded, "'that Jesus Christ, being God's wisdom and His eternal Son, clad himself in our flesh to the end of being both God and man in one person. We worship Him so entirely in His divinity, that we strip Him of His humanity. We believe and confess that God, by sending us His Son, wished to show His ineffable goodness toward us, and by delivering Him to death and raising Him from the dead, wished that justice be done and heavenly life be gained for us.'"
"Glory to God!" cried the reformers. "He has sent us His Son to redeem us with His blood! God has been crucified for the salvation of man!"
Communing with himself, Christian Lebrenn only said: "Another absurdity laid by Calvin at the door of the Godhead. Can God condemn man for the pleasure of afterwards redeeming him? O, Christ! Poor carpenter of Nazareth, the friend of the afflicted, the penitent and the disinherited, you do not wrap yourself in an impenetrable cloud. I see your pale and sweet smile encircled by a bloody aureola, and bearing a stamp that is truly human. Your divine words are accessible even to the intelligence of children. Your Evangelical morality should and will be the code of all humankind. The chains of the slave will be broken, said you now more than fifteen hundred years ago; and yet, the Pharisees, who call themselves your priests, have, during all these centuries, owned slaves, later serfs, and to-day they count their vassals by the thousands. Love ye one another, said you; and yet, the Pharisees, who call themselves your priests, caused, and to this hour continue to cause, torrents of Christian blood to flow. I do not share the belief of the reformers, but I remain with them body and soul so long as they combat the cruelties, the iniquities and the idolatries of the Roman Church! I remain body and soul with them so long as they devote their lives to the triumph of your doctrine, O, Christ! in the name of equality and human fraternity! In that doesthe real strength lie, the real power of the Reformation. Of what concern to us are those Mosaic dogmas concerning original sin, the fatedness of evil, the inherent wickedness of man? The Reformationactsvaliantly, itactsgenerously, itactsin a Christian spirit in seeking to restore your Church, O, Christ! to its simplicity and pristine purity by combating the Pope of Rome."
Calvin continued: "'We believe and confess that, thanks to the sacrifice our Lord Jesus Christ offered on the cross, we are reconciled to God and fit to be held and looked upon as just before Him. Accordingly, we believe that we owe to Jesus Christ our full and perfect deliverance. We believe and confess that, without disparagement of virtues and deserving qualities, we depend upon them for the remission of our sins only through our faith, and the law of Jesus Christ.'"
"The law and faith in Jesus Christ is embraced in that" responded the reformers. "It is our code. The law and faith in Jesus Christ—that means love towards our fellow men; it means equality; it means fraternity; it means revolt against the idolatries, in whose name the greatest malefactors are and believe themselves absolved of their crimes by the purchase of indulgences! Only through faith and the practice of the Evangelical law will our sins be remitted."
"'We believe and confess,'" proceeded Calvin, "'that whereas Jesus Christ has been given us as the only intermediary between us and God, and since He recommends to us that we withdraw into seclusion in order to address, inprivate and in His name, our prayers to His Father, all the inventions of men concerning the intercession of martyred saints is but fraud and deception, schemed in order to lead mankind aside from the straight and narrow path. Furthermore, we hold purgatory to be an illusion of the same nature, likewise monastic vows, pilgrimages, the ordinance of celibacy to clergymen, auricular confession, and the ceremonial observance of certain days when a meat diet is forbidden. Finally we consider illusions the indulgences and other idolatrous practices through which grace and salvation are expected, and we regard them as human inventions calculated to shackle human conscience.'"
"That is the essence of the Reformation," said Christian Lebrenn, apart. "The reform of action, the militant reform. Hence it is that my dignity as a man, my mind and my heart are with it. It is a long step towards the reign of pure reason, planted upon the freedom of inquiry. The road is cleared. Man is in direct communion and communication with God through prayer, without the intervention of any church. No more Popes—the incarnation of divine and human autocracy, as Ignatius Loyola understands it! No more dissolute and savage pontiffs, claiming to be Your vicars, O, God of mercy! No more saints, no more purgatory! Down goes the traffic in indulgences! No more monastic vows—the idle monks shall become honest and industrious citizens! No more priestly celibacy—the pastors shall themselves become heads of families! No more auricular confession—a bar to Ignatius Loyola, whose aim is to take possession of the conscience of mankind by means of the tribunal of penitence; through the conscience of mankind, the soul of man; through the soul, the body; and thus to rear the most frightful theocratic tyranny! O, sweet carpenter of Nazareth! May the Reformation triumph! May your Evangelical law in all its pristine purity become the law of the world! The power of the casqued, the mitred or the crowned oppressors will then have ceased to be! No more Kings, no more priests, no more masters!"
"No more Popes! No more cardinals, or bishops! No more idolatry! No more celibacy! No more adoration of images! No more confession! No more intermediaries between God and man! Such is our confession, such our belief," cried the reformers in answer to Calvin, who continued:
"'We believe and confess those Romish inventions to be pure idolatries. We reject them. Sustained by the authority of the sacred books, by the words and acts of the apostles—I Timothy 2; John 16; Matthew 6 and 10; Luke 11, 12 and 15; the Epistle to the Romans 14, and other Evangelical texts—we believe and confess that where the word of God is not received there is no Church. Therefore we reject the assemblages of the papacy, whence divine truth is banished, where the sacraments are corrupted, adulterated and falsified, while superstitious and idolatrous practices flourish and thrive in their midst.'"
"Yes," answered the assembled reformers, "let us draw away from the usurping Roman Church—that impureBabylon; that sink of all vices; that notorious harlot; that poisoned well, whence flow all the ills that afflict humanity! No more Popes, bishops, priests or monks!"
"'We believe and confess,'" Calvin continued, "'that all men are true pastors wherever they may be, provided they are pure of heart, and that they recognize for sole sovereign and universal bishop our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore we repudiate the papacy; we protest that no church, even if it call itself "Catholic," can lay claim to any authority or dominion over any other church.'"
"Therefore we do repudiate the Church of Rome! Christ is our Pope, our bishop! There should be no intermediary between him and us!" responded the reformers.
"'We believe and confess,'" Calvin went on, "'that the offices of pastors, deans and deacons must proceed from the election of their own people, whose confidence they will thus show they have earned. We believe that, in order to exercise their functions, they should concentrate within them the general rules of the church, without attempting to decree, under the shadow of the service of God, any rules to bind human conscience.'"
"Freedom of conscience—that means human emancipation!" Christian exclaimed to himself. "All honor to the Reformation for proclaiming that great principle! May it remain faithful thereto!"
The reformers meanwhile answered: "Yes, we wish to elect our own pastors, as they were elected in the primitive church;" and John Calvin continued:
"'We believe and confess that there are but two sacraments—baptism, that cleanses us of the soilure of original sin; and communion, which nourishes us, vivifies us spiritually by the substance of Jesus Christ, a celestial mystery accessible only through faith.
"'Finally, we believe and confess that God has willed that the peoples on earth be governed; that He has established elective or hereditary kingdoms, principalities, republics and other forms of government. We therefore hold as unquestionable that their laws and statutes must be obeyed, their tributes and imposts paid, and all the duties that belong to citizens and subjects must be fulfilled with a frank and good will, even if such governments be iniquitous,provided the sovereign empire of God remains untouched. Therefore we repudiate those who would reject government and authority, and who would throw society into confusion through the introduction of community of goods among men, and thereby upset the order of justice.'"
"No! No!" was Christian's muttered comment at these words. "Man must not submit to an iniquitous authority! No! No! John Calvin himself realizes the offensiveness to human dignity of such a resignation, and its contradiction to the very spirit of the Reformation. Is not the Reformation itself a legitimate revolt against the iniquity of the pontifical authority, and, if need be, against whatever temporal power might seek to impose the Roman cult upon the reformers? Indeed, after having set up the principle, 'The peoples must submit to their governments, even if these be iniquitous,' Calvin adds, 'provided the sovereign empire of God remains untouched.' No obedience is due an authority that would raise its hand against the sacred rights of man, or aught that flows therefrom."
"Such, dear brothers," concluded John Calvin, "is our confession of faith. Do you accept it?"
"Yes, yes!" cried the reformers. "We accept it. We shall practice it. We shall uphold it, at the risk of our property, our freedom and our life! We swear!"
"This, then, is the confession of faith of those 'heretics' whom the Catholic clergy represents to ignorant and duped people as monsters steeped in all manner of crimes, and vomited upon earth out of hell, as inveterate foes of God and man," said Calvin. "What do these 'heretics' confess? They confess the fundamental dogmas of the Christian Church, as revealed by the Divinity itself. But these 'heretics' reject the inventions, the abuses, the idolatries and the scandals of the Church of the Popes. In that lies our crime, an unpardonable crime! We attack the cupidity, the pride and the despotism of the priesthood!
"Here, on this very spot where we are now gathered in council in order to confess the most sacred of rights, the freedom of conscience, seven priests have pledged themselves with a terrible oath to secure the absolute omnipotence of Rome over the souls of men, and to found the reign of theocratic government over the whole earth! The new organization is named the Society of Jesus. It is intended to and will become a formidable instrument in the hands of our enemies. The circumstance is a symptom ofthe dangers that threaten us. Let us prepare to combat that new militia everywhere it may show itself.
"Our Credo, our confession of faith is fixed. This confession will be that of all the Evangelical churches of France. And, now, what attitude must we assume in the face of the redoubled persecutions that we are threatened with? Shall we submit to them with resignation, or shall we repel force with force? I request our friend Robert Estienne to express his views upon this head."
"It is my opinion," replied Robert Estienne, "that we should address fresh petitions to King Francis I, praying that it may please him to allow us to exercise our religion in peace, while conforming ourselves to the laws of the kingdom. Should our petition be denied, then we should draw from the strength of our convictions the necessary fortitude to sustain persecution to the extreme limit possible. Beyond that we shall have to take council again."
"I share the opinion of Robert Estienne," said John Dubourg. "Let us resign ourselves. An upright man should drain the cup of bitterness and pain sooner than let loose upon his country the horrors of a fratricidal conflict."
"Monsieur Coligny, what is your opinion?"
"Monsieur," replied the young noble, "I am, I think, the youngest man in this assemblage; I shall accept the opinion that may prevail."
"Speak. You are a man of arms. We should know your opinion," returned Calvin.
"Since you insist, monsieur," Coligny began, "I shouldhere declare that my family owes a good deal to the kindness of the King. It has pleased him to entrust me—me who am barely passed the age of youth—with a company of his army. I am, accordingly, bound to him by bonds of gratitude. But there is to me a sentiment superior to that of gratitude for royal favors—that sentiment is the duty that faith imposes. While deploring the cruel extremities of civil war, which I hold in horror; while deeply regretting ever to have to draw my sword against the King, or, rather, against his ill-omened advisers, I should feel constrained to resort to that fatal extremity if, persecution having reached the limits of endurance, it became necessary to defend the lives of our brothers, driven face to face with the alternative, 'Die, or abjure your faith!' As to pronouncing myself with regard to the opportune moment for the conflict, in case, which God forfend, the conflict must break out, I leave the decision to more experienced heads than my own. At the moment of action, my property, my sword, my life—all shall be at the service of our cause. I shall do my duty—all my duty."
Ambroise Paré, the surgeon, was the next to speak. "Both Christ and my professional duties," he said, "command me to bestow my care upon friend and enemy alike. I could not, accordingly, brothers, bring hither any but words of peace. Let us be inflexible in our belief. But let us force our persecutors themselves to acknowledge our moderation. Let us tire their acts of violence with our patience and resignation. Let us leave the swords sheathed."
"Patience, nevertheless, has bounds!" objected the Viscount of Plouernel. "Has not our resignation lasted long enough? Does it not embolden the audacity of our enemies? Would you resort yet again to humble petitions? Very well. Let us pray, let us implore, once more. But if we are answered with a denial of justice, let us, then, resolutely stand up against our persecutors. We are the majority, in several mercantile cities, and several provinces. Let us, then, repel force with force. Our enemies will recoil before our attitude, and will then do justice to our legitimate wishes. I hold that to carry our forbearance any further would be to expose our party to be decimated day by day. Then, when the hour of battle shall have come—it is fatedly bound to come—we shall find ourselves stripped of our best forces. In short, let us make one more peaceful effort to secure the free exercise of our religion. Should our appeal be denied—to arms!"
"Brothers," advised Prince Charles of Gerolstein, "I am a foreigner among you. I come from Germany. I there assisted at the struggles and the triumph of the Reformation preached by the great Luther. In our old Germany we did not appeal and request. We affirmed the right of man to worship his Creator according to his own conscience. Workingmen, seigneurs, bourgeois—all proclaimed in chorus: 'We refuse to bend under the yoke of Rome; whosoever should seek to impose it upon us by the sword will be resisted with the sword.' To-day, the Reformation in Germany defies its enemies. Germany is not France; but men are men everywhere. Everywhere resolution has the name of resolution, nor are its consequencesanywhere different. We are bound to uphold our rights by our arms."
"Monsieur Christian Lebrenn, what is your opinion on the grave subject before us?" asked Calvin. The printer replied:
"History teaches us that to request from Popes and Kings a reform of superstition and tyranny is absolutely idle. Never will the Church of Rome voluntarily renounce the idolatries and abuses that are the sources of its wealth and power. Never will a Catholic King—consecrated by the Church and leaning upon it for support, as it leans upon him—voluntarily recognize the Reformation. The Reformation denies the authority of the Pope. To attack the Pope is to attack royal authority. To overthrow the altar is to shatter the throne. All authority is interdependent. What is it that we demand? The peaceful exercise of our creed, while conforming to the laws of the kingdom. But the laws of the kingdom expressly forbid the exercise of all creeds, except that of the Catholic Church. Either we must confess our faith and then expose ourselves to the rigors of the law, or escape them by abjuration; or, yet, resist them, arms in hand. Are we to obtain edicts of tolerance? We should entertain no such hope. But, even granted we obtained them, our security would be under no better safeguard. An edict is revocable. The end of it all is fatedly one of three conclusions—abjuration, martyrdom, or revolt. The blood of martyrs is fruitful, but the blood of soldiers, battling for the most sacred of rights, is also fruitful. We neither should, norcan we, I hold, hope for either the authorization, or tolerance, of our cult. Sooner or later, driven to extremities by persecution, we shall find ourselves compelled to repel violence with violence. Let us boldly face the terrible fact. But, suppose, for the sake of our peace of conscience, we said: 'It still depends upon the Church of Rome and the King of France to put an end to the torture of our brothers, and to prevent the evils of a civil and religious war.' To that end a decree conceived in these terms will suffice: 'Everyone may freely and publicly exercise his religion under the obligation to respect the religion of others.' Such a decree, so just and simple, consecrating, as it does, the most inviolable of rights, is the only equitable and peaceful solution of the religious question. Do you imagine that such a decree would be vouchsafed to our humble petition?"
"Neither King nor Pope, neither bishops, priests nor monks would accept such a decree," was the unanimous answer. Christian continued:
"Nevertheless, in order to place the right on our side, let us draw up one last petition. If it is rejected, let us then run to arms, and exterminate our oppressors. It is ever by insurrection that liberty is won."
"Will Brother Bernard Palissy let us know his views?" asked Calvin when Christian had finished.
With a candor that breathed refinement, the potter replied: "I am but a poor fashioner of earthen pots. Seeing the issue is to shatter them resolutely—according to the opinion of our friend the printer—I shall tell you whathappened to me the other day. I was wondering how it came about that the Evangelical religion—benign, charitable, peaceful, full of resignation, asking for naught but for a modest place in the sun of the good God in behalf of its little flock—should have so many inveterate enemies. Being a little versed in alchemy, 'Let's see,' said I to myself, 'when, mixing the varnish, colors and enamel with which I decorate my pottery, I encounter some refractory substance, what do I do? I submit it to the alembic. I decompose it. In that way I ascertain the different substances of which it consists. Well now, let me submit the enemies of the Reformation to the alembic in order to ascertain what there is in their composition to render them so very refractory.' First of all, I submit to my philosophic alembic the brains of a canon. I ask him: 'Why are you such a violent enemy of the Evangelical faith?' 'Why!' the canon makes answer, 'because, your clergymen being men of science as well as preachers, our flocks will also want to hear us preach as men of knowledge. Now, then, I know nothing about preaching, and still less about reading or writing. Since my novitiate I have been accustomed to taking my comfort, to ignorance, to idleness. That's the reason I sustain the Church of Rome, which sustains my ignorance, my delightful comfort and my idleness.' Through with that monk, I experimented with the head of an abbot. It resisted the alembic. It shook itself away, bit, roared with vindictive choler, resisting strenuously to have that which it contained within seen by me. Nevertheless, I succeeded in separating its severalparts, to wit: the black and vicious choler, on one side; ambition and pride, on the other; lastly, the silent thoughts of murder that our abbot nourished towards his enemies. That done, I discovered that it was his arrogance, his greed and his vindictiveness that kept him in a refractory temper toward the humility of the Evangelical church. I afterwards experimented upon a counsellor of parliament, the finest Gautier one ever laid eyes upon. Having distilled my gallant in my alembic I found that his bowels contained large chunks of church benefices, which had fattened him so much that he almost burst in his hose. Seeing which I said to him: 'Come, now, be candid, is it not in order to preserve your large chunks of church benefices that you would institute proceedings against the reformers? Isn't it damnable?' 'What is there damnable in that?' he asked me. 'If it were damnable there must be a terrible lot of damned people, seeing that in our sovereign court of parliament, and in all the courts of France, there are very few counsellors or presidents without some slice of an ecclesiastical benefice which helps them to keep up the gilding, the trappings, the banquets and the smaller delights of the household, as well as the grease in the kitchen. Now, then, you devil's limb of a potter' (he was talking to me) 'if the Reformation were to triumph, would not all our benefices run to water, and, along with them, all our small and large pleasures? That's why we burn you up, you pagans!' At hearing which I cried: 'Oh, poor Christians, where are you at? You have against you the courts of parliament and the great seigneurs, all of whomprofit from ecclesiastical benefices. So long as they will be fed upon such a soup they will remain your capital enemies.' That is my reason, brothers, for believing we shall be persecuted all our lives. Let us therefore take refuge with our captain and protector Jesus Christ, who one day will wipe out the infliction of the wicked and the wrong that will have been done us.[36]Therefore, let us suffer; let us be resigned, even unto martyrdom; and, according to the judgment of a poor potter, let us not break the pots. Of what use are broken pots?"
"Will our celebrated poet Clement Marot acquaint us with his views?" asked Calvin.
"Brothers," said the man thus called upon, "our friend Bernard Palissy, one of the great artists of these days—and of all future days—spoke to you in his capacity of a potter. I, a poet, shall address you on the profit that can be drawn from my trade for our cause. Why not make one more endeavor to use the methods of persuasion before resorting to the frightful extremity of civil war? Why not endeavor to draw the world over to our side by the charm of the Evangelical word? Listen, the other day a thought flashed through my mind. The women are better than we. This acknowledgment is easily made in the presence of our sister, Mary La Catelle, whom I see here. She is the living illustration of the truth of what I say. None among us, even the foremost, excels her in tenderness or pity for the afflicted, in delicate and touching care for deserted children. I therefore say the women are betterthan we, are more accessible than we to pure, lofty and celestial sentiments. Furthermore, to them life is summed up in one word—love. From terrestrial love to divine love it is but one aspiration higher. Let us endeavor to elevate the women to that sublime sphere. The common but just saying, Little causes often produce great results, has inspired me with the following thought. I asked myself: 'What do the women usually sing, whether they be bourgeois or workingmen's wives?' Love songs. The impure customs of our times have given these songs generally a coarse, if not obscene turn. As a rule, the mind and the heart become the echo of what the mouth says, of what the ear hears, of what engages our thoughts. Would it not be a useful thing to substitute those licentious songs with chaste ones that attract through love? Hence I have considered the advisability of putting in verse and to music the sacred canticles of the Bible which are so frequently perfumed with an adorable poetic flavor. My hope is that little by little, penetrated by the ineffable influence of those celestial songs, the women who sing them will soon be uttering their sentiments, not with the lips only but from the depth of their hearts. Our aspirations will then be realized."
Clement Marot was about to recite some of the charming verses composed by himself, when Justin suddenly broke in upon the assemblage crying:
"Danger! Danger! A troop of archers and mounted patrolmen are coming up the road to the abbey. I haveseen the glitter of their casques. Flee by the opposite issue of the quarry!"
A great tumult ensued upon the artisan's words. Justin took up one of the candles, ran to the gallery that was masked by the huge boulder, and entered the narrow passage, ordering all the others to follow him.
"Brothers!" cried out the Viscount of Plouernel, "let all those of us who are men of arms remain here and draw our swords. The patrol will not dare to lay hands upon any of us. The court must reckon with our families. As to you, Calvin, and the rest of our friends whom no privilege shelters from the pursuit of our enemies, let them flee!"
"You can leave the place in all safety," added Gaspard of Coligny; "the armed patrol, finding us ready to cross irons with them, will not push their search any further."
"Should they push forward so far as to discover this other issue," put in Prince Charles of Gerolstein, "we shall charge upon them vigorously, and shall force them back far enough to leave the passage free for our retreat."
John Calvin, whose life was so precious to the Evangelical church, was the first to follow upon the heels of the torch-bearer Justin. The other reformers pressed close behind. The gallery, narrow at the entrance, widened by degrees, until it opened into an excavation surrounded by bluffs, up one of which a narrow path wound itself to the very top of the ravine, with the tierred fields and woods stretching beyond on the further slope of the hill of Montmartre. Robert Estienne, Clement Marot, Bernard Palissy and Ambroise Paré remained close to Calvin. Christian Lebrenn assisted Mary La Catelle to cross the rocky ground. When the fugitives were all again assembled in the hollow of the excavation, John Calvin addressed them, saying:
"Before separating, brothers, I renew to you the express recommendation not to attempt a rebellion, which, especially at this season, would only subserve the cause of our enemies. Resignation, courage, perseverance, hope—such must be our watchwords for the present. Our hour will come. Assured, after this night's council, of the adhesion of the reformers of Paris to the Credo of the Evangelical church, I shall continue my journey through France to engage our brothers in the provinces to imitate the example of Paris by opposing the violence of our enemies with patience." And turning to Christian: "Monsieur Lebrenn, you uttered a sentiment the profoundness of which has impressed me strongly. A simple decree to the effect that all are free to profess publicly their own creed while respecting the creed of others, you said, would prevent frightful disasters. Let the blood, that may some day flow, fall upon those who, by denying justice, will have kindled the flames of civil war! Anathema upon them! For the very reason that equity and right are on our side we are in duty bound to redouble our moderation."
After touching adieus, exchanged by Calvin and his co-religionists, it was agreed to return to Paris in separate groups of threes and fours, to the end of not awakening the suspicion of the guards at the Montmartre and St.Honoré Gates, who were no doubt apprized of the expedition of the patrol against a nocturnal assembly of heretics held on Montmartre. Day was about to dawn. John Calvin, Robert Estienne, Clement Marot, Ambroise Paré, Bernard Palissy and a few others ascended the path that led out of the ravine, and took their way across-fields in the direction of the St. Honoré Gate. Other little groups formed themselves, each striking in a different direction. Christian, Justin, John Dubourg, Laforge, who was another rich bourgeois, Mary La Catelle and her brother-in-law the architect Poille, took the road to the Montmartre Gate, where they arrived at sunrise. Although their group consisted of only six persons, they decided, out of excessive caution, not to enter Paris but by twos—first John Dubourg and Laforge; then Mary La Catelle and her brother-in-law; lastly Justin and Christian. Their entrance, thought they, would awaken no suspicion, seeing that already the peasants, carrying vegetables and fruit for the market, crowded in the neighborhood of the gate with their carts. Soon separated from their friends in the midst of the medley of market carts, Justin and Christian were but a few steps from the arched entrance of the gate when suddenly they heard a loud clamor, and these words, repeated by a mob of voices: "Lutherans! Lutherans! Death to the heretics!" A pang of apprehension shot through the hearts of Christian and his companion. Some of their companions who preceded them must have been recognized at the gate. To rush to their assistance would have been but to share their fate.
"Let us not attempt to enter Paris at this hour," suggested Justin to Christian, "we are workmen in the printing shop of Robert Estienne. That would be enough to cause us to be suspected of heresy. Gainier, the spy of the Criminal Lieutenant, has surely given the mob our description. Let us go around the rampart and enter by the Bastille of St. Antoine. That gate is so far from Montmartre that it is possible the alarm has not been given from that side."
"My wife and children would be in mortal agony not to see me home this morning," answered Christian. "I shall make the attempt to go through, under shelter of the tumult which, unhappily for our friends, seems to be on the increase. Do you hear those ferocious cries?"
"I do not care to run the danger. Adieu, Christian. I have neither wife nor children. My prolonged absence will cause uneasiness to no one. I prefer to go to the Bastille of St. Antoine. We shall meet shortly, I hope, at the printing shop. May God guard you!"
The two friends separated. Christian, whose anxiety increased every minute, thinking of Mary La Catelle and those with her, decided to enter Paris at all risks. Nevertheless, noticing not far from where he stood a peasant driving a cart filled with vegetables and overspread with a cloth held up by hoops, he said to the rustic, drawing a coin from his pocket:
"Friend, I am exhausted with fatigue. I need a little rest. Would you be so good as to take me in your cart only as far as the center of the city?"
"Gladly, climb in and go to sleep, if you can," answered the peasant as he pocketed the coin.
Christian climbed in, ensconced himself in a corner of the wagon and raised a little fold of the cloth in order to catch a glimpse of what was going on outside, seeing the tumult waxed louder and more threatening. Alas! Hardly had the wagon passed through the gate and entered the city when Christian saw at a little distance Mary La Catelle, her brother-in-law Poille, John Dubourg and Laforge—all four manacled. A troop of archers held back with difficulty the furious mob that loudly clamored for the lives of the "heretics," those "heathens," those "Lutheran stranglers of little children"! Pale, yet calm, the four victims looked serenely upon the surging mass of fanatics. With her eyes raised to heaven and her arms crossed over her bosom, Mary La Catelle seemed resigned to martyrdom. The imprecations redoubled. Already the most infuriate of the populace were picking up stones to stone the victims to death. The wagon in which Christian was concealed slowly pursued its way and saved the artisan the harrowing spectacle of the mob's murderous preparations. Later he learned the details of the arrest of his friends. La Catelle and her brother-in-law, who had long ago been reported by the spy Gainier as hardened heretics, had been recognized and seized by the agents of the Criminal Lieutenant, who had been posted since midnight at the Montmartre Gate. John Dubourg and Laforge, who came a few steps behind La Catelle, havingyielded to a generous impulse and run to her assistance, were, in punishment for the very nobility of their act, likewise suspected, arrested and manacled. Christian also learned later that Lefevre was the informer against the meeting of the reformers at Montmartre. The bits of paper Lefevre had picked up while directing the search of the sergeant in the garret of Christian's house, proved to be bits of Calvin's draft convoking the assembly, and on one of these the word Montmartre was to be read. Armed with this evidence, Lefevre had hastened to impart his suspicions to the Criminal Lieutenant, and caused the patrol to be ordered afield; but these, finding themselves confronted with the seigneurs at the entrance of the quarry, and seeing these determined to resist them, had not dared to effect an arrest.
Christian jumped out of the wagon in the center of Paris and hastened his steps towards his house. Hardly had he stepped upon the Exchange Bridge when he saw the Franc-Taupin running towards him. Josephin had watched all night for the artisan's return. He informed him of the arrest of his wife and children, of the danger that awaited him if he entered his house, and induced him to take refuge in a place of safety.