CHAPTER IX.
In the mean while Martin's wound, through the watchful care of hisdoctor, had astonishingly improved. Eveline had soon becomefamiliarised with him, and the young man seemed even more than thefather to doat on her. He exerted himself with humble devotedness toperform every little service, and was only happy when he was able towin a smile from the Lord of Beauvais. When the father now returnedfrom the fields with his daughter, the latter said to him: "Is it nottrue, papa, that when I am grown up, I too shall be obliged to marry."
"Probably," answered the Lord of Beauvais, "Well then," continued she,"give me the young handsome Martin for a husband." "Does he then pleasethee so very much?" asked the father.
"Not merely on that account," said Eveline, "but because I should liketo make a good marriage, and such, as I have heard, one does notfrequently meet with. But with our Martin I should be perfectly happy,and he behaves himself already quite as if he were your son. And I,when I say to him, Martin! sit thee down here by me! Get up again!Fetch that flower there for me! Now tell me something! or, Go away, Ishould now like to be alone awhile! thus he does everything so exactlyat a signal, as I have never before seen. Neither Martha nor Joseph,and least of all the old obstinate Frantz, that was eternally scolding,would thus have obeyed me at a word; with such a smart, well-dressed,sensible husband, the thing might turn out worse, and therefore I willchoose Martin, if you will allow me." "But he is only a servant," saidthe Counsellor. "You have said yourself," prattled the child, "thatthere was something in his appearance more than ordinary. He iscertainly the son of respectable people; through the rebellion we toohave fallen into misery, and it may be worse with us yet, one musttherefore look about by times for help."
"And if he will not have you?"
"I have already asked him this morning, then he laughed out quite loud,what I had never seen him do before, but afterwards he became quitegrave again, sighed, and kissed me on the forehead. That I think isquite answer enough."
In the little garden under the trellaced bower, they found Godfred andthe tall Dubois sitting at the oaken table; the wife was busy in thekitchen. They sat down by them both; the musician was at that moment inthe midst of a lively performance. "Do you hear, gossip," cried he,"the sound when I press and keep it down, do you know what that means?"
"Yes," said Godfrey, "it is pretty enough." "Well, attend," saidDubois, "how I now pass over and strike the quaver, which afterwardsquivers in the deep tones, and how in the mean while my hand works herein the bass. You now understand this many-voiced composition? Listen!see, that is what I call fundamental composition."
"Yes, it is pretty," said Godfred--"he can now move all his paws."
"Do not think of your stupid dog," exclaimed Dubois, "you will notoften be so fortunate as to hear a sonata of Lulli. Collect yourthoughts well together. Hist! now we are passing over suddenly to theflats? St! do you hear? Ah! the passage is exquisite."
"He must eat a rice mess this evening," said Godfred.
"Can you endure music, Peter Florval?" cried the musician, eagerlyaddressing the State Counsellor; "Many nerves are unable to support it.Now we are coming to the conclusion. Forte! forte! bound! continue!what do you think? Ah, now comes, the most difficult passage. That is acomposition that requires fingering and skill. It flies right and left.Now I play over with my right hand in the bass, now the into thetreble. See, now I work away crossing hands; now with all ten fingers!and again! and again! I need indeed take my elbows to help. Over, over!dispatch! Ah, it is admirably written. Do you not think so, gossip?"
"At first though he must only be allowed to run with caution," saidGodfred.
"Still those doggish vagaries?" said Dubois, sullenly, "banish, I pray,those four-legged thoughts from your mind, and for once live entirelyfor art."
"I must afterwards though cut the divining-rod," said Godfred in a loudvoice to himself.
"Stop!" cried the long musician, as he jumped up, "you here remind meof a thought, I have wished for some time to impart to you. Do you knowwhat to do with such things?"
"So, so," said Godfred, "I discovered my well for myself by means ofit, and thus served several neighbours."
"And treasures!" cried Dubois.
"Water," said the surgeon, "is sufficiently precious; I have neverattempted anything else."
"You know, perhaps," continued the gossip; "It is not yet ten yearsago, since Jacob Aymar, from Dauphine discovered by means of hisdivining-rod, a murder that had been committed long before. The storycreated the greatest sensation in Paris and at Lyons at the time. I wasthen in Paris with my brother, the universally celebrated great doctor,and saw myself the simple peasant, who could perform such miraculousdeeds. My brother, who is a very speculating philosopher, repairedhither at this extraordinary discovery, and employed all sorts ofremarkable essays, so-called experiments in the presence of persons ofdistinction, and they succeeded admirably. But the rod must be cut froma hazel branch at midnight, at the full moon, and without uttering aword at the time."
"That is superstition," said Godfred, "any rod can answer the purpose,if the hand possesses the gift."
"What do you know," exclaimed the former, hastily, "about PhilosophiaOcculta? you are always on the side of the sceptics, in everything. Doyou think that Moses' staff was anything else than such a divining-rod?It must discover money just as easily as water; indeed, it must guessthe thoughts, and thereby ward off future crimes. Every city, everyvillage under a reasonable government should have its priviledgedrod-walker."
"Impiety," said Godfred, "sufficient calamity happens already withoutthis superstition. The silly hazel-rod should be applied to the backsof all such fellows."
The musician made a wry face and would have answered angrily, whenEveline uttered a loud joyous "Ah!" an old peasant passed by, followedby a large dog. The Lord of Beauvais had risen, Eveline blushed, and ata sign from her father remained behind. The old peasant cast asearching glance into the bower, but the Counsellor looked a negative,without those present being able to observe it, and the peasantproceeded on his way without forming an acquaintance with the company.But not so the great dog, that no sooner had he snuffed the air, thanhe instantly leaped over the palings of the garden, and howling andwhining with joy, jumped in a hundred playful gambols round theCounsellor and his daughter, and then lay down, placed his two paws ontheir persons and recommenced his frolics anew. It was in vain thatEveline cried out, "Away, away! what does this nasty strange dog wanthere?" she wished to pretend to be angry, but the absurd antics of thewell-known Hector, forced her to burst into a loud laugh.
"Peter Florval," said Dubois, "you must be known to the dog."
"Not that I know of," replied the Counsellor, somewhat embarrassed; "hemust have come from some farm in my former neighbourhood."
"It may be so," answered the musician, "but the peasant though ought tohave come in here; what frightened him away from us? surely we are notsuch great folks."
Hector, that now heard old Frantz whistle from a distance, stoodirresolute on the alert, looked inquiringly at the Counsellor, and thenseemed to wait for Frantz, and danced round Eveline again; at length,however, a second loud whistle called him away. The Counsellor said, "Imust go and see whether the old man is known to me, come with medaughter." They both, left the garden. "One easily becomes overcautious," observed he, after having heartily welcomed his faithfulservant; "Had you only known for what we pass here, it had been betterto have come in at once. But you have not yet spoken with Mr. Vila?" "Ithas been impossible for me to visit him yet," said Frantz, "for myjourney detained me too long: an accident brings me to this village,where, indeed, I did not suppose you to be, the royalists, who in largebands keep the mountains in a state of siege, obliged me to turn awayfrom the high road. But now, my dear master, no one can pass over thefrontiers, the watches and precautions have been redoubled; every onein the country is already suspected, how much more so should he desireto quit it, even the passports from
government are no longerrespected."
It was agreed upon, that Franz should go to St. Hippolite to Vila, andreturn after some time with news, but never, as had been determined atan earlier period between the friends, to bring letter, or papers. Whenthe Counsellor returned to his dwelling with his child, the lattersaid, "I should never in my life have thought Hector so stupid; he didnot pay the slightest attention, I might have made signs to him as longas I liked, and yet he can hunt and perform other feats of skill, whichI should never have been able to learn; but whenever indeed I havewished to tell him about the slightest fun, or when my brother was goneout and that he would soon return, he has never understood me. If it isonly not the case with us human beings also. Perhaps we run thus alongjust like little dogs by the side of angels, who insinuate much to us,yet whose language and real meaning we can never comprehend."
"At least," said the father, "man should not dive too deeply into that,nor with daring enthusiasm desire to confine to himself that which isdenied him by his Creator. But you cannot, however, understand thatyet, my little girl."
"It must be glorious," answered the little one, "to understand all thethoughts which are permitted to us by God. All that he does grant to usby degrees, if we are pious and kind! What I have always with delightseen you do, when for whole hours you used to sit at your great books,of which I did not understand a single word, and you so often lifted upyour eyes joyfully, and continued to reflect; you cannot think how wellit looks, and what a beautiful sight it is to behold a sensible manengaged in deep meditation."
They had returned to their friendly home, and Martin with the otherswere waiting for them. "It is really abominable," began dame Barbara,"that the Camelsarts have become so impious, that this year noprocessions can go to the village, which lies only six leagues fromhence. One may pass over the mountain in three hours, and I have neverbefore spent a year in the neglect of edifying things."
"There is no church festival then now a-days?" enquired Dubois. "Wellno wonder; nay, even the great annual markets have been abolished."
"The turkish great sultan and the heathenish Marrelburgh must havenegociated an alliance with the rebels, that we completely fall intomiserere, for one cannot know what the political conjunctive mayproduce to us in this year: All indicatives, said our pastor onlyyesterday, promise no particular property, and we may indeed be stuckfast in the mud by the new year."
"Pray, spare us Gossip," said Dubois smiling, "the learned words, inwhich indeed you have ever contrary wind, and you do not rightlyunderstand the tacking about (Laviren)."
"By, expressing myself thus," rejoined Barbara impatiently, "do I thenin any way squander your capital interest? I merely add thereto my own,and whenever I may require mesicaments, there stands my old man, andyou need not offer me any strange Laxirung.
"Such phrases and notions are indeed not at all proper. What must myhonoured cousin think? he certainly imagines we live quite freely witheach other as if we had been married together. It remains a constanttruth, that whoever has been once a virtoso, can never again become asimple-minded man, he is for ever lost to pomology, kindheartedness, orhormanity."
"Do not become warm about it gossip," said the musician, "I have neverdreamed of offending you."
"No more," said she angrily, "to me of dreams and dreampeter stories;for they are just as unsufferable to me as your sonneteering on mytable there. It too has not once dreamed, that in its old age it wouldserve as a finger board.--
"Peace," said Godfred, "you do not understand all that, Barbara, forthe people over there are assembling: What is the matter then. Let ourgossip play the harpsichord, he uses his own fingers for it and notyours, but something new must have occurred, I should like to hear, wemust question our neighbours."
Thus throwing unconsciously the different conversations together,because he was curious, and yet he also wished to answer, he nowdemanded of one that was running by, why the neighbourhood seemed thusin an uproar. Now smart firing was heard close by. "There must be greatconfusion on all sides in the valley," said a country woman.
All quitted the garden, and the firing of small guns was distinctlyheard as it was borne on the air.
"Ugh!" sighed Dubois, who could now climb the mountain. "One must hearit much more distinctly up there."
"I like not," said Godfred, "to have any thing to do with war and warcries. The unfortunate, beautiful, peaceful villages, until now we haveheard nothing of it, except once at the very beginning, now again wereceive the evil visit."
"There yonder," thought the woman, "they have the miracle-workingstatue of the Mother of God, that will protect them all, the rebelscannot effect any thing in opposition to that: Fire and sword, ballsand blows cannot prevail against the heavenly miracle."
Detached light cavalry scoured the village. They enquired the way anddesired to rejoin their companions from whom they had been cut off onthe mountains.
The trumpeter approached the officer with a face of importance, whilehe pointed out to him a mountain road, upon which the horses, in a caseof necessity, could make their way through. "I have myself had thehonour to serve in the royal guards;" added he proudly. "As what?"asked the young officer. "It was granted to me," said the former, "tobe first trumpeter of the regiment. How goes it, sir captain, with therebels?" "Grant to me, trumpeter," answered the leader, "to owe you theanswer until we meet again. The knaves are possessed by the devil, andit faires badly with us. If you could blow them away, we would thentake you with us."
Thereupon they all galloped away, whilst the whole body raised a burstof laughter. "Service is no longer as it was formerly," observedDubois, "the old, genuine soldier-like gallantry must give place to newfashioned boasting, and venerable age and experience are of no valueamong the raw striplings."
CHAPTER X.
In the mean while the calamity in which Edmond took a leading part andtoo late repented, now burst forth. Cavalier, who this time conductedevery movement of the troops, had so prudently contrived his plans;valour, and fortune were so favorable to him in their execution, and athis command on all sides, that the enemy, who thought to have hemmedhim in, saw themselves surrounded. The royalists were forced to giveway, and were decoyed and driven into the narrow valleys, where theycould not employ their strength, the cavalry was cut off, and onwhatever side the soldiers turned, they met with their adversaries, whofought from the advantageously situated heights.
In the morning, conformably to the arrangement made, the villageprocession was put in motion at the festive sound of bells. The churchwas beautifully decorated with garlands and flowers; the clerk began toplay the organ, and old and young assembled on the common dressed intheir holiday clothes, in order to join the young girls and follow theprocession into the church. The aged priest was standing already beforethe altar, awaiting the congregation, when suddenly a panic seized andrendered them motionless, for a loud and reiterated firing wasdistinctly heard close at hand. "Jesus, Maria!" exclaimed the girls,and the chains of flowers fell from their arms, the young men spoke ofweapons and defence, and the old looked at one another in alarm. Thefiring approached nearer, and the priest and clerk had already quittedthe church. All was in fearful and anxious expectation. Psalm singingwas now heard from over the steep mountain. "They are the Camisards!"shrieked all aloud and in terror; at the same moment a regiment inreserve rushed from the left into the valley. The Camisards moved fromabove precipitatedly, and jumped and slid down the vineyards, whilethey hurled stones and balls among the bewildered, stupified, anddiscouraged mass of soldiers. In vain the officers inspirited them,some fell with their horses, others sought to retreat towards theoutlet of the valley on the right. The procession and the clergy, aswell as the congregation were mingled with the combatants, before theywere yet able to recover their senses. A few only succeeded in flyingto their houses.
"They are beaten!" cried Catinat furiously, who mounted on a greatblack horse and roared, "After them! destroy them in the name of theLord!
and throw fire and sword into these cottages and idolatroustemples!" Ravanel rode on a small horse at his side and was alreadystained with blood, for he was ever foremost in the slaughter. Favart,Stephen, Anton, and the diminutive Francois had nimbly clambered downthe mountain. Houses were already seen burning in the distance, the cryof murder from the inhabitants mingled with the rejoicing shouts of thevictors and the clashing of arms. Stephen now attempted to take thecrucifix, which the youthful Caspar, as leader of the processioncarried, but the latter struck him so forcibly on the head with it,that his fair locks were smeared with blood, and the youth withoutdrawing another breath, fell to the ground. When Anton, the shoemakersaw this, he fell furiously upon Caspar: "Tear the cruel idolaters topieces!" screamed he, and struck Caspar with his short sword, who wason the point of using his weapons on the neck, so that in a moment hewas red with a stream of blood. Louison, who saw that her beloved waslost, uttered a piercing shriek of woe, tore the short, stumpy Anton bythe hair to the ground, and battered his brains out with the bar of thecrucifix, which Caliper had now let fall. A murderous shout ofbloodthirstiness rang fearfully through the troops of exasperatedrebels, and Francois was the first to cut down the beautiful Louison,whereupon an indiscriminate massacre raged in every cottage, in everystreet, upon every little bridge, and in the already burning church, sothat the gurgling brook soon rolled in blood-red waves.
In the meanwhile Edmond stood gloomy and despairingly above on thesteep rock, and saw now distinctly, now obscured by the smoke thestreets and houses of the village beneath him. The smoke now rolledaway, the royalists had all fled, a short cry and wailing, theinhabitants were all slain, cottages burned right and left, the fireshone through all the trees, and now the flames arose in the church andthe peaceful dwelling under his feet, which had hospitably shelteredhim that very night, already rolled in columns of smoke, the fireshortly raised the roof, and below was a universal glow of destructionand death, reflected in the bloody, splashing brook, all like a fieryriver of hell, where yesterday an Eden had bloomed. The green treesdefended themselves from the fiery streams, but they were compelled tobend and yield to its force. The glowing waves burst up to the heavensover the church tower, and as a child, unconsciously smiling, playseven in death, the clock struck the hour once more, and for the lasttime, and then fell with the tower and the beams of the roof with aloud crash into the abyss of fire and smoke.
Edmond sat down indifferent to all, and incapable of further thought.After a while he saw a troop of his brethren ascending the heights bydifferent routes. Bertrand appeared soon afterwards on another roadmounted with several horsemen. "Are you defeated?" asked Edmond, asthey assembled near him. "No," cried Bertrand, "God has given uscompete victory, the valleys are strewed with the bodies of theroyalists; Cavalier has advanced yonder against the fugitives; Rolandhas now probably beaten another column, and Solomon their thirddivision. But, as Cavalier knows, that several horsemen have fled, hefears they might make a circuit and fall upon him in the rear, we musttherefore still occupy these heights."
Edmond had not the courage to ask what had taken place in the villagebelow, but Bertrand began of his own accord. "Now, for once, the hardhearts have been compelled to taste our vengeance, we have at lengthwashed our hands in their blood. They will fear us, brother; thetrembling of those that have escaped to-day will teach the others totremble too. Like destroying angels, Ravanel and Catinat cut their waythrough them, where these stand, not one of the enemy expects mercy. Ihave now though been enabled to celebrate a great festival, such ajubilee as I have ever wished for. But many of our brethren, and ourbest lie there below. The despairing peasants have armed themselvesalmost in greater numbers than the soldiers. Ah! poor Francois, thechild has been torn by the beasts, Anton, and the flute player,Stephen, have had their beads smashed, one of the villains threw mybrother, when the poor fellow was already wounded, into the fire, eventhe wretched clerk was massacred by our Everard, whereupon I pitchedthe rogue head over heels directly into a deep well."
"And the aged priest?" asked Edmond, scarcely audible,
"Him," said one of the troop, "I saw for a long while standing with hisprayer-book in the midst of the tumult on the common; right and leftmen and women were slain by his side, so that I thought, now, now thisone or that must strike him. But it was as if they did not see him atall. I afterwards lost sight of him; surely he must be lying thereamong the dead bodies. Do you know anything of him, brotherChristophe?"
A wild looking man, spotted with blood, diminutive and black, his wholeface almost overgrown with bristly hair, said grinning: "The oldgrey-headed knave is certainly a sorcerer, for when I had alreadykilled several of the idolaters, and that he still continued to standquietly there, and I was vexed that none of my comrades had ever aimedat him, in my fury I advanced to hew him down; already I raised my arm,then the spectre looked quite quietly at me, and his old thin lipssmiled at it, almost as if he would have wept, but I tell you, from hislarge blue eyes such a spell shot through my eyes into my heart, thatterrified I let foil my arm and was unable to do any thing to therascal. A long time after, wishing to rest myself a little, I perceivedhim still in his black garments like a dark cloud between thecombatants, wandering through flame and smoke and over the slain,perfectly collected and as if no one could do him harm. I think he isgone into the burning church and will probably be burned there."
Edmond awoke from his dreams to life again at this fearful recital."Thus, does the guest requite," said he to himself, "the hopeful son ofthe friend, of thy youth. Is not that called love for love? Now I am nolonger indebted to thee for thy hospitable reception."
"Hollo! hollo!" shouted Christophe wildly. "Our brethren yonder arebringing the sacrificing priest of Baal. So much the better, he shallbe slain here before the eyes of the all seeing God."
Edmond cast a withering glance on the wretch, then looked down andrecognised already close beneath him the pastor bound, whom Favart, theswarthy Eustace and other Camisards were dragging up. "Here we bringthe knave dear brethren," exclaimed Favart, just as they gained a firmfooting on the level rock, and dragged up the old man with cords.
When the exhausted priest was drawn up, he cast such a look oflassitude, pity, and resignation to the will of heaven on the youth,that the hair of the latter stood on end with terror. "God greet youwith your booty!" roared he to Favart and Eustace, "but woe to himamong you, who approaches the old man even by a look, for such a onewill I tear with my teeth." Favart and Eustace stepped back, turningpale, and Edmond loosened himself the cords of the venerable man, thenpressed him in his arms, laid his grey head upon his throbbing breast,and a convulsive sobbing prevented all utterance and restrained histears. "Why," said the aged man, "should I alone remain of all therest? the poor shepherd, whose flock they have slaughtered?" "What isthat?" vociferated Christophe, stammering with rage; "will they rob usof our property that we have purchased with our blood? we have leftgold and silver to be consumed in the burning churches, but the life ofthe idolater is our booty. And who will take it from us? A coward, whowithout drawing a sword, here safe in the distance, has contemplatedour life endangering labour. Away with that! Apostates are we ourselvesif we bear the like from an idolater, who has not yet abandoned hisformer wickedness."
He would have rushed upon the holy man but Edmond intercepted him withthe swiftness of lightning, and threw him with such giant strength uponthe rock that all his limbs rattled, and he remained lying apparentlysenseless. Old Favart beheld this with anger, and Eustace, thecharcoal-burner, became wrathful. Bertrand stepped wildly forward, anda group of clamorous Camisards pressed round Edmond and the priest."Who art thou?" exclaimed Favart, "that thou darest play the masterhere? Wilt thou act the nobleman here?"--He seized the priest, andEustace also laid a hand upon him. Though as Edmond stepped up to them,Eustace, from old accustomed obedience, let go his hold, and Favart wastorn back by the powerful youth. "Lord, Edmond, Beauvais!" cried theman, "our king!" They struggled with each other, and Edmond hu
rled himdown the mountain. "Our brother's neck is broken!" cried they allwildly together, and rushed upon Edmond with drawn weapons, who in thismoment had been lost, if Abraham Mazel with a fresh troop had notarrived: Clary, Castanet, Marion, and Vila were among these. Throughrespect for Mazel they were quiet, and Edmond was enabled to lay theaffair before the friends. "We would not be cruel towards thedefenceless," said Mazel. Clary remembered Roland's express command tospare the priest; the eloquent Marion exhorted and persuaded thegrumblers, and it was determined that the priest, while the guidesshould clothe themselves in the uniforms of the slaughtered, should beconducted to Florac, that he might there claim the protection of hissuperior. Edmond offered to take this service upon himself, and Eustaceand several of the brethren would accompany him on this expedition.
Conversation and dispute were interrupted, while this scattered and cutoff band advanced, whose union with the defeated soldiers Cavalierwished to prevent. The few cavalry went to meet them, the infantryplaced themselves in order, and a sanguinary combat began anew on theheight. Mazel led them on, and the bravery of the rebels made themilitary, who were already discouraged, give way. Edmond and hisfollowers were with the young captain and his light horse, who wereexposed at a distance in an obstinate combat. The horse of the youngman was already killed, but he fought intrepidly and indefatigably,however little he could promise him>self a fortunate issue. Edmondadvanced, and cried out, "Surrender young man; you behave gallantly, itwould grieve me were you killed here uselessly. I promise youprotection and good treatment until you are exchanged for some of ourstaken prisoners."
"Miserable rebel!" exclaimed the captain, "dost thou think, that I wouldreceive pardon from such a villain as thou? I know thee, Beauvais,perjurer, apostate; the executioner at Nismes awaits thee already.Look down into that valley, incendiary, and still speak of goodtreatment!"---He looked searchingly at the youth, glanced down on hissword and fired his pistol at Edmond, it missed, and Edmond at the samemoment shot a ball through his breast, so that he fell dead. Theremainder were killed in the melee, the sergeant, who was still mountedfled precipitately from the height down the rock, Mazel and hisfollowers were already far distant pursuing the enemy.
Edmond descended with those who would accompany him. In a vineyard theyenjoyed the repose and frugal fare which could be quickly prepared forthem. The old man was revived by a few drops of wine. "Beauvais, artthou my son?" began he, as he saw himself alone with Edmond.--"I amcalled," said the latter, "after your baptismal name, Edmond; as atestimony how my father has ever loved you."
"Ah, thou dear friend of my youth," said the old man with a deep sigh,"why must I become acquainted with thy son under such circumstances? Inthis way then have the dreams of thy love, our religious inspirationsbeen embodied? Thus are our fanatic presentiments fulfilled? To thesemurders and burnings, to these horrible cruelties must we awaken andcall our whole youth folly and illusion? Ah! verily poor Louison, thylove to thy protectress has been badly recompensed. You were rightunfortunate Caspar, that you did not know in what moment and in whatsufferings your happiness would terminate. Now you lie together in abloody embrace. Why cannot I say to myself, no, this is but a dream!Awake thou miserable old man, and find thy commune, thy children, theformer tranquil repose, the sweet peace, and thy beloved church again!Woe! woe! to ye, ye poor, ye innocent! and threefold woe upon thewretches who brought this horror into these distant valleys."--Hecovered his head, and wept bitterly.
The twilight was extending itself. The pastor wished to visit once morethe ruins of his church, and they descended the mountain. Edmond andthe priest went alone among the fallen walls. All was destroyedtogether, the alter only still remained and the statue of the virginwas blackened, though tolerably preserved. The old man took it down andburied it at some distance. "Wherefore?" asked Edmond. "Will not themultitude," said the aged man, "cry out a miracle again, when they findthis statue the only thing still nearly preserved in this heap ofashes? Who knows what horrible blood-thirstiness may be enflamed bythis accident, what monstrous, insatiable vengeance attached to thiswooden symbol in the name of God, in order to satisfy under pretext ofeternal love, the horrible feeling, which never should be awakened inthe breast of man. No, what may be an innocent amusement in times ofpeace and happiness, and serve as an exalting, edifying, piousinstitution, often becomes a banner for the human mind if once wildrebellion has swayed, it followed exultingly by all the horrors ofhell. I should consider myself a murderer, if I did not bury thisprotectress to-day, as our neighbours will inter the poor unprotectedto-morrow. Should the Eternal Decree will it otherwise, he will easilyrender my trouble unnecessary."
As they again issued from the ruins, they were met by the tall figureof Lacoste. "Edmond," cried he, "you and your compeers carry on adamnable trade. I have kept myself concealed the whole day, that Imight not look upon the enormity. The ceremony of your worship is toosevere. Your God is indulgent, for otherwise he would shew himselfsomewhat more rigorous in it. I thought I had already experienced everything and understood every body; but in my present high school I stilllearn many new things."
How astounded were Lacoste and the priest as each found again a friendof his youth in the other. "You are then that pious, sighing, youth,"exclaimed Lacoste in amazement, who in the eyes of his Euphemie wouldsee and find the whole Empyraeum? We now wander afar over the flowersof your religious elysium. But tread firmly, for these eyes and nosesno longer feel our heels, these faces are only the discarded masks,which still lie about from yesterday's gala. Yes, these masqueradershave destroyed much clothing, that can never be mended again, they havebeen reduced to tatters at once by extravagant insolence. Aye! aye!Edmond, your reverend cordelier, his hair is become white since then,like the yellow flowers of the meadow, which the first blast uproots.Where is Euphemie? Where Lucy, where our tears and sighs of those days?You have become a little old man in an instant: and, is it not true,that those youthful feelings appeal to you even now sometimes, but likedumb children, with their countenances? Now perform a little bit of amiracle with your superabundant love, and awaken these dead again whichlie here in our way. But the question is, whether they would thank youfor it, since they have once made a step to the other side, thoughrather in a neck-breaking manner; for if examined closely, that socalled life is a cursedly tedious and base affair, and if one is toexpect jokes like these every day, such as have been practised on thesefellows here, then really one must be damnably sunk in bad habits, notto put an end to this miserable existence by a single gash on thethroat. But thus indeed are we all.
In these conversations they passed the night. The venerable pastorreplied but little. Neither did his exhaustion permit him, which was sogreat, that he was often compelled to rest. As the hours passed themore agitated he became and the more he wished to end quickly his daysin the ruins of his beloved commune, for he did not know why he shouldstill wish to live. Edmond talked to him filially and affectionately,as a son, and the old man heartily forgave all the evil that the youthhad drawn upon him, "If I could, only see thy father once more beforemy death!" exclaimed he much affected, or--grief did not permit him tosay more, but Edmond guessed what he meant. After they had reposedseveral times, with the early dawn they reached a village, which laypleasantly among some green trees. They determined on breakfastinghere, in order to be able to continue their way to Florac, Edmond feltas if his whole life and being would dissolve in dream and mist. Asthey arrived before a small house, in the upper story of which some menappeared, but who quickly drew back at the sight of the regimentals,Edmond said to himself, "I am on the point of becoming mad, for I nowsee the figures of my mind; it was indeed as if I perceived my fatherand Christine, and Eveline; and only because I here escort the twofriends of his youth." They were going to inquire for the inn of an oldman, who was gathering herbs in a small garden, when the wife came outof the house and begged of them to accompany her, since she herself hadbusiness at the inn, and that it was not so easy to find it, because itlay in another s
treet, and in an out of the way place, where there wasbut very little business carried on, and had no communication with anyhigh road.
With this information, the chatterer accompanied them to the neatlittle inn of the place. The people had only just risen, and wereterrified when they saw the soldiers, for since the attack on the notfar distant district, the whole country was filled with terror. Wine,bread, and warm drink also revived the weary travellers, and Eustaceand Bertrand with some others kept watch, that they might not beunexpectedly surprised. "Who lives in the upper story of your house?"inquired Edmond of the old woman.
"Ah! good heavens!" responded she, "they are poor unfortunate people,whose property the wicked rebels have burnt. A peasant, a poor cousinof mine, has now fled to me with his daughter and his sister's son, andwho knows whether the flambeau of wrath, with which the Lord of Hostsin his anger will light us home, is not already on its way to ourlittle cottage. For where is safety, or security now a days asformerly? Verily, all is affliction and warfare, and the strangestfatality drives men here and there, as has happened only in oldmarvelous stories, and the troubles only increase, and suspicionbecomes greater. Where one only sees a soldier, one might creep into amole's hole, even though one should be of the very best and exactfaith."
"Is your trumpeter not come back yet?"
"He must have clean disappeared," answered the old woman; "but myfoolish husband grieves about the knave, and thinks that somemisfortune must have happened to him in the mountains, because the longbellows was already old and broken down, and is sometimes troubled witha bad cough. As if it mattered much about such vagabonds, when so manyrespectable people bite the grass, who have more connexion andauthority than the adventurer, who wants to play Moonseignor here."
"Aye, truly," said the landlord, "but how goes it though with theCatholics, particularly with the poor clergy, as well as with the old,venerable lord there, who has now fled likewise? Some of them are saidto have already arrived at Florac yesterday. The convents too suffer. Awayfarer arrived here in the night, who brought intelligence of anattack on a castle, where several holy women had been on a visit, whomay belong to Nismes or Montpellier. Crosses and misery are in thewhole land. And whence has the misfortune come? Each party lays theblame on the other."
They set forward again, and those who were placed to keep watchrejoined the troop. A fiery red had spread itself over the wholeheavens, as far as the eye could reach, when they emerged from thevalley, the sky was illumined with the most singular and varied burninglights. From a wood, situated on an eminence on the left, rushed anaged female attendant, and cried, "Oh, God be praised, that I see royaltroops! Help, my good mistress!" she ran back, and led an old nun, whoappeared fainting. They approached, they revived her with wine. Whenthe priest heard her family name called, he exclaimed, "Euphemie!" anddropped down before her. It was she, she had escaped with difficultywith her attendant from the burning castle, where she had passed thenight in the greatest anguish. The old man told her his name. "Hastthou then at times thought of our youth?" asked he in a tremblingvoice, "Can one forget life?" replied the dying Euphemie, with closingeyes. "And thou, Edmond?"----"I lived for thee, I die with thee," spokethe aged man, and both expired exhausted by the too strong emotioncaused by finding each other again so wonderfully, while the rays ofmorning shone like a glory on their sanctified features.
Carts which came from Florac, and whose owners heard from Edmond thebrief account, conveyed the bodies to the town, that they might beinterred in consecrated ground.
END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.
PRINTED BY J. TEUTEN, BOND STREET, CHELSEA.
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