CHAPTER I.
"Is Edmond not yet come home?" asked his father of the servant, as hewalked up and down the great hall of his country mansion.
"No, my Lord," answered the old man, "and it were well that hereturned before evening; for a storm is gathering over the mountains,which bodes us no good."
At this moment a little girl entered with her toys, and sat down at thelarge hall table. "The storm is raging again so fearfully up in themountains," said she carressingly, "that I will stay near you, dearpapa, I cannot bear such weather, why should there be such noise andthunder in the world?"
"Aye, truly," rejoined Frantz, the old domestic, "and all the miserythat has oppressed us for so many years past and to which we see noend!"
"He only knows, who has thus afflicted us," replied the father,sighing; "and he will accomplish his own wise purpose."
"Papa!" exclaimed the child, looking up from her play, "our goodEustace, the charcoalburner, who used to bring me such pretty littlestones from the wood, and who lately brought the large wild bird, whichhe said, was a thrush; the black good man is now become a satan too."
"What art thou chattering there about!" said her father angrily; "whotold you this?"
"Martha, my nurse," replied the child; "for he is now in rebellionagainst his God and his king, until they take him prisoner and burn, orotherwise put him to death, for he will no longer be a Christian;Martha said so this morning, while she was dressing me, and she intendsgoing to the town next week to see the other satans put to death; pray,allow her to go, dear papa? she thinks it will more particularlyconfirm and strengthen her in her faith, for she too has gone a littleastray, and has almost fallen into evil ways. The evil one is verypowerful in the neighbourhood, particularly up yonder in the mountains,he is quite at home there; we are much better down here. Papa, the figsare becoming ripe already in the garden."
"Thou chatterer!" said her father, in a tone of displeasure, "I shalltake care that you are not so much alone with the old woman."
"It is true enough," interrupted the domestic, "Eustace is up in themountains with Roland, and has joined the Camisards, his wife andchildren sit mourning in their desolate home; they are destitute offood, and dread being arrested and, perhaps, condemned on his account."
"I believe," said the Lord of Beauvais, "that you have already relievedthem, my good Frantz, if not, do it now; give them what necessariesthey may require, but do it prudently, that we may not be called uponto answer for it; for in this general affliction of want and confusion,every thing is suspicious. A man may do as he pleases provided hebecomes not a tyrant, and places himself on a level with theexecutioner."
"Like our Marshal," exclaimed the old man impetuously, "like ourIntendant; like the lords there in Nismes, who in the name of Godsacrifice their brethren. I have sent some relief to these poor peoplealready, and will provide them with more; it is only a drop of water inthe sea, but still in this distress it will comfort a few poorcreatures."
The servant retired, and as her father turned a mournful glance towardsthe mountains, his little daughter approached him smilingly, kissed hishand, and said: "Papa, pray let not you and Frantz became wicked andrebels, for then brother Edmond and I would go to heaven quite alone,and I should not like that; I can never agree with Edmond, he is soterribly pious, you are much better, though your faith may not be ofthe best kind."
"You say truly, _terribly_ pious;" said the old man, "Oh heaven, whenwill it please thee to deliver us from these afflictions?"
"There comes Edmond along the garden," said the child, "it will bebetter not to say anything to him about the wicked Eustace, for weshall have noise and disputes again; he does not like such things atall."
Edmond entered, bowed, put his gun in the corner, and laid aside hispouch. A large dog came bounding up to the little girl, who played withhim, and held up some pieces of broken bread.
"Where have you been this morning, my son?" inquired his father.
"At the Intendant's, at the Lord of Basville's," replied Edmond withoutraising his eyes. "Yonder in Alais, where he will stop for a few daysin consequence of the trial of the rebels. He commends himself to you,but he is rather surprised that you should have refused the appointmentoffered, and thinks that the Marshal would understand it still less."
"The Marshal, my son," began the father, not without emotion, "thereare many things that he cannot understand. I thank my God that Iretired to this solitude more than ten years ago, for were I still inoffice, my conscience would compel me to resign it now, and thatperhaps would be still more incomprehensible to these two valiantgentlemen. I neither envy nor admire their patriotism and God preserveour family from the fate of rendering such services to the king.Therefore, my dear, my beloved son, I once more give you a paternalwarning to abandon these men, it would send me to the grave to see youact like them. What do they require of us? no open, direct service, noassistance which becomes citizens, and which all honorable men areready to render: but we are required to turn spies and betray ourfellow-subjects and our countrymen, to give them up to the rack and tothe stake, and to rejoice in the inhumanity which depopulates the land,and congratulate ourselves at having incurred the hatred of God and ofall mankind, and if we enquire into this too closely, we are lookedupon as traitors to our king and country."
"Is it ever permitted to a subject to enquire?" hastily rejoinedEdmond, "I am aware of your sentiments, my father, and I regret them;but ought the subject to enquire into this? May I be allowed to askwhere is the submission, where are the ties that bind him to the state,where the holiness, the sublimity, the piety, the honor by which we aremen and citizens, and upon which our virtue and existence repose; if Iam permitted to say: here I renounce my obedience to you, this you darenot command, though you were my king; though my country, even heavenitself should speak to me through your revered lips."
"You are right, my son," replied the old man, "and because you askthis, you will ever be in the right; the ruler should with humble pietyand with godly fear keep within these limits, respect the conscience ofhis subjects, keep inviolate the promises, the oaths which his noblepredecessors made, and which he has repeated after them, and not hurlwith his own hand the burning brand into his granaries, by raising upextortioners, judges, and persecutors!--And woe to those, who thusabuse the weakness of his age, his pliable conscience and their owninfluence; and woe to him who is appointed to fill these offices toslaughter good and pious men; but tenfold woe to the upright man, whofrom ambition, or a mistaken sense of duty, advances and sets fire tothe stake, and extends the rack still more horribly."
"It grieves me, my father," said Edmond, suppressing his anger, "I amoverwhelmed with inexpressible anguish at being compelled to feelmyself so immeasurably distant from you in all that is dearest,holiest, most natural and nearest to my heart! From the moment that Iwas capable of thinking and feeling, our ancient and holy religion hasbeen to me the most sacred, the most sublime, in her alone my heartlives, all my wishes and aspirations are brightly reflected in thisclear crystal; this which love itself has proclaimed, this which isitself love, eternal, invisible, to us lost creatures become visible bydescending in the form of a child, as our brother and nearestneighbour, and then suffering so painful a death for our wanderings andin this most devoted sacrifice thinking only of us, and of all ourinfirmities and corruptions in life and in death:--ought I ever toforget this, can I disdain it; my heart which this love consumes withgratitude; ought it to suffer this transcendent miracle of love to beannihilated, to be trampled in the dust, and all that is most holyreduced with scornful impiety to ruins, in order to associate it withall that is most contemptible?"
"Who requires that, my son?" exclaimed the old man; "even Turks andHeathens would and could not demand it, still less our brethren, whoonly desire to approach in plainness and simplicity thatincomprehensible being, who, notwithstanding his immensity, sointimately and so closely connects himself with all our hearts in loveand simplicit
y."
"In this portrait," said the son, "it would indeed be impossible torecognise those, who murder our priests, set fire to our sanctuaries,rob the peasant, and if they are victorious, which God forbid, wouldextend their heresy with fire and sword over the land."
"You see it thus, my son," said the old man, "because you will see itso; we misunderstand each other in this affair, for you resistconviction, and certainly as long as you are governed by this feeling,you will never possess that dispassionate clearness of mind, whichaccording to my judgment, is necessary to render us susceptible ofreligion; and this alone is the true spirit of christianity, for which,it is true, you struggle with enthusiasm, but you cannot live in truedevoted love."
The son rose indignantly from his seat, and walked hastily up and downthe saloon, then he seized his father's hand, looked at him earnestly,and said: "Enthusiasm? with this word then, with this vague sound youhave satisfied yourself, and responded to my sorrowing spirit. This isit exactly what the world desires, what the despairing one means whoseheart is dead. Is it not so, the martyrs and heroes of the christianchurch were merely enthusiasts then?--and those who joyfully shed theirblood and endured martyrdom for Him, to whom they could not offer toogreat a sacrifice of love and suffering, were fanatics too, becausethey were deficient in understanding and composure? All these miraclesof love are merely the crude wanderings of delirious passion, whichthose celestial spirits have contemplated from on high, not withemotion and joy, but only with compassionate smiles, and those whoexpired in ecstasy are immediately greeted with grave looks andadmonishing reproof! Oh, rather than discipline my throbbing heart tosuch presumption and vile incredulity, I would tear it palpitating frommy breast, trample it under foot and throw it to the dogs for food."
"We will drop the subject," said the father, half angry, half moved,while he took a large book from the mantel-piece.
"I blame not your sentiments, far be it from me to censure what issacred, but you do not know what it is, you have yet to learn thatgreatness and truth lie only on the verge, on the transition-point ofthis feeling; as we have beheld them in their ecstasy, we must drawback with timidity and reverence; but should the lying spirit entice usin our spiritual revellings to higher enthusiasm and visions, we sinkunder mental voluptuousness, and delusive images, fearful fancies takeprisoners soul and heart, love dies within us; and you will be obligedto go through this sad probation, my son, and God knows if the issuedoes not leave you a seared, an empty heart, or perhaps a hypocrite,for thy path through life will not be smooth and easy."
With these words, the Lord of Beauvais sat down to read, his son tookhis hand and said in a gentle tone, "No, no, my father, let us go onwith this subject, which once for all occupies my whole life. Is itpossible that this reading, this reasoning of Plato can interest you atthis moment? Am I permitted to feel as you do, am I not obliged toblindly obey, if moreover, this obedience accord with my sentiments?"
"St! st!" exclaimed the little girl playfully, and the dog ran barkingtowards the door, and could only be silenced by his master's whistlingto him. "Is it not true," said Eveline, "that Hector is entirely of thetrue faith, for he might be so easily set upon the Camisards?"
"Silly child!" exclaimed Edmond reddening with anger, the father shookhis head at her, but she continued: "Edmond said even now that he wouldgive his heart to Hector to eat, therefore I may well consider him avery peculiar sort of dog." "Come Hector, they always do us injustice;"thus saying, she took the dog by the collar and both went into thegarden.
"I understand you not, my father," commenced Edmond after a pause, "youare religious, you visit the church with devotion, I must consider youattached to it, however often a suspicion to the contrary may occur tome, and yet can you contemplate it with composure, that destructionthreatens this our church, and does she not in the most gracious mannerfulfil all the desires and yearnings of our hearts? I feel everincensed, when many priests urge so strenuously the necessity of goodworks, virtue and morality; Heathens can teach us that, and our veryreason exacts it from us; however much these must be respected, it isthe progressive development and formation of the miraculous that Iperceive in history which always so powerfully affect my heart. In thedistance lies the first miracle dark and indistinct; but veiledentirely in love. The gift of prophecy was not withdrawn after theapostles; saints and martyrs followed in the steps of the departed, andfulfilled that which the former predicted, the mystery of love isinterminable, and can only be explained by a new mystery. That theexplanation of the holy sacrament should be sanctioned by decrees ofthe church, disturbs me not, while to the worldly only it appears amere temporal event; for in the insignificant germ lie alreadyconcealed the blossom and sweetness of the fruit, which become ripeonly by that which we call time. Thus it happened that at a laterperiod the forebodings of the soul were fulfilled, and she, who hadgiven birth to the Saviour was worshipped as heavenly; festivals werecelebrated in her honour. Thus the prophetic song from the mouth of oneprophet descends through all ages, and is never silent, even tofuturity. Festival follows festival, temples and images follow statues,posterity will turn with deep emotion to the love of the present, as weenraptured trace the past, only through this mutability, through thisre-echoing of the Eternal Word is the truth made manifest to me,through this alone am I convinced that it went forth in former times,by this means, that it apparently changes, as the leaf into theblossom, the flower into the fruit, and the fruit yields again the seedof the flower, it is a permanent, an eternal truth; through thisendless, this inexhaustible abundance, resembling an ocean of love, byanticipating each individual sense, by quenching every desire, bysatisfying the hungry: by this only it becomes something simple,authentic and independent, and I abhor the interpretations of thoseinnovators, who would treat these miraculous events as a tale, whoventure to call our mass with its symbols, lights, temples, pomp, andmusic idolatry, and by thus warring against the most sacred things,according to the feelings of my heart, they war against God himself,and they must be rooted out and destroyed like noxious, venemousreptiles."
"I understand you, my son, and would willingly believe you in theright, for in fact you have only been declaring my own sentiments onthis subject. If such are your feelings and this be your faith, thereshould be no further strife not only between us, but any one else. Ifyou feel that Christianity in its various forms, rejects no want, nodesire, that it is permitted to every mind to worship according to itsown light, but in the spirit of truth, the Eternal Being, then thosemeek hearts, that shrink affrighted from this parade and song, fromthis splendour of the temple and from the artificial culture ofreligious mystery, will not be excluded from the community. Those, wholike the disciple John and the apostles of Jesus, visit the wildernessof Jordan, and there in the dreariness of the mountains and in holysolitude willingly listen to the Eternal Word, and are anxious to erectthere their church like the hut at Bethlehem, lest their fervidimaginations might be overwhelmed with the splendour and sculpturedbeauty of the statues, and thereby forget their salvation and theirGod. These people here are likewise true Christians, my son, whateverour priests may say to you about it, and the Father will not rejectthem. There arose long since in our Cevennes, and in the valleys of theAlbigences, a simple faith, a peaceful retreat, far from the pomp andambiguity of the episcopal and popish church. It may be, that for thegood of mankind, for religion, education, and liberty, it was expedientin those earlier ages, that the Bishop of Rome should declare himselfthe head-shepherd and lay the foundation of a spiritual kingdom; but,that the christian church in later times has declined on that account,admits of no doubt. The bishops and priests were now no longer simpleteachers of the word and imitators of the apostles, but they became thehead-servants of their spiritual master, who in the disputes of thetimes was compelled to think first of himself and of his own power,while he assigned to religion that only which was not detrimental toit; therefore it resulted, that when the quiet inhabitants of Albyassembled in their wooded valleys, resolving to
free themselves fromthe abuses, the arbitrary dogmas, as well as from the corruptions ofthe priests, they were persecuted as heretics, who sought to overturnthe papal chair, and therefore Christianity itself. Had there beenthen, as there was formerly, a free independent church of bishops,these enlightened minds would have found protection and peace, theywould have been allowed to assemble in their houses of prayer withtheir priests, and serve God in what manner they thought it their dutyto do, instead of which, crusades were preached against them and theirinnocent blood, which has been so inhumanly shed, still cries up toheaven. Even if the papal hierarchy and Christianity had not been oneand the same thing, there would still have arisen in our mountainsgreat preachers and reformers of the church. When the papal authoritybegan to totter, such teachers as these spread themselves among ourmountains and Calvin's disciples found minds, which had been longprepared to receive his doctrines. This form of faith is here asnatural and holy as yours may be in other parts, and he only couldresolve on extirpating them by persecution, who misunderstands thebeautiful and tolerating spirit of Christianity, indeed it appears tome, that he must be entirely inimical to this religion of love. SinceLuther and Calvin, a civil war has raged through every province fornearly a century; dearly was this cherished liberty to be paid for, ofwhich the popes and bishops have so unjustly robbed mankind. A lightshone in the midst of this gloom, our fourth Henry stepped forward andextended the olive-branch of peace over all his dominions. By the edictof Nantes liberty of conscience was ensured by a royal oath, and by theunanimous consent of the parliament, and confirmed by all the statesand provinces: his successor renewed this oath, and our ruler, LouisXIV, could not be recognised king, before he agreed to reign overEvangelical as well as Roman Catholic subjects: thus was the oath whichhe took for himself and his posterity ratified to us; he has reignedmany years with happiness and renown, but now in his old age,surrounded by ambitious and superstitious minds, now that his brightstar has long set, now that his country is impoverished and exhausted;that his armies are defeated; that enemies threaten his frontiers, andeven his very capital,--now that Germany, England, and Holland, here inthe neighbourhood, Savoy, menace us with the most dire misfortune,--nowhis conscience awakes, he thinks to be able to conquer heaven andfortune, by suffering Catholic subjects only to call him king. He sendswith inconceivable blindness--converting ministers into thesemountains; and threats, compulsion, massacre and pillage are theexhortations employed towards this unfortunate people; now we havewitnessed these horrors in our very neighbourhood; however zealous youmay be for your party, my son, I know that your humane heart has beenagonised more than once by these proceedings. Suddenly--could he do it,ask yourself if he might? the king revokes that edict and voluntarilyabsolves himself from his oath, without at the same time consultingthat of his predecessors, of the parliament, and of all the states inthe kingdom; he himself destroys, in his religious madness, that whichbinds him to the citizen, that attaches the subject to him, the sacredpalladium, the undefilable is profaned and annihilated, and thewretched inhabitants are yielded a prey to wrath, to murder, and to thefearful frenzy of the bloodthirsty; the peaceful weaver, the shepherd,the honest labourer, who was but yesterday a devout Christian, arespected citizen, a good subject, is through the revocation of theedict, without any fault of his own, now a rebel, an outlaw, for whomthe wheel and the stake are prepared; against whom all, even the mostsavage and disgraceful cruelty is permitted; his temples are closed anddemolished; his priests are exiled and murdered; he is ignorant of hisoffence, he only feels his misfortune: in the deepest recesses of thesoul that spirit is aroused which remembers its eternal andimperishable rights, and again war and murder rage; fury excites fury,life becomes cheap, martyrdom a pleasure; and if there be evil foes,they look with a scornful and fiendish laugh from the summits of themountains down on this hideous massacre, where the very last traces oflove, godly fear, and humility are covered with reeking blood. Do youmean that it is thus I must be a Christian, in order to justify thecruelty of my party; or to be a good subject, must I lend a hand tothese executioners of the Marshal? In this case, indeed, is our respectfor the king, as well as our worship of God infinitely different."
Edmond had listened to this long harangue of his father, withouttestifying any signs of impatience; at length said he, sighing deeply:"We are standing then on two opposite shores, a wide stream betweenus; I understand your meaning so little, that I even shrink withfear from it, for according to that, our holy religion may vanish inthe empty folly of every fool, who has the arrogance to set himself upfor a teacher, and just enough ability to mislead the ignorant,novelty-hunting populace; thus then might indeed the sacred edifice ofthe state with its, by heaven itself, consecrated representative sinkinto the dust, if every malcontent is permitted to dispute with himthose rights by which the king is king, and if lie finds an opportunityto rob him of them. Then come chaos and anarchy bringing in their trainthe hellish fiends of murder, vengeance, fire, and sword, in order todestroy and slay the friends of the throne, the nobles and the priests.Oh! my father, to this only then their doctrine tends. Can my king beno more to me my visible god on earth, to whom I blindly andunreservedly submitted my whole heart with all its impulses, can I nolonger believe, that to him alone belongs all responsibility? In thiscase I can neither act, nor think. Must my church, for whichinnumerable miracles, and thousands of the sublimest spirits speak andconfirm it, yield to contemptible communities of yesterday, out ofwhatever corner they creep, who seek with gross deception and deliriousravings to cover and decorate their pitiful wretchedness;--no, I wouldjust as soon fly to the unenlightened heathens of the North Pole, andattach myself to their absurd faith."
"Miracles!" exclaimed the old Lord, "and what then do you call miracles?the dull eye cannot discern them, just because they are too great andtoo mighty. That these poor people, who were perfectly content if theyonly had their hardly-earned dry bread, and who in the recesses oftheir mountains revered every commander as a deity;--that these shouldventure to defy the Intendant, the Marshal with his armies, and eventhe king himself;--that these poor, common men were enabled tosacrifice their wives, their children, and their lives, and die martyrsfor their doctrine: Is this then no miracle? A miserable band withouteducation, without arms, without having ever seen service, led by youngmen, who scarcely know what a sword is, should defeat regular troopsand experienced commanders in more than one battle; and, sometimes too,one against four: Is that no miracle? How, if these rebels, for suchthey are in reality, should desire to found the truth of their doctrineupon this, what have you to oppose against them?"
"Rather mention too," said Edmond, with bitterness, "their prophets,their ecstasies, their absurd convulsive contortions, which the younglearn from the old and deceive and grossly lie with the name of God ontheir lips."
"My son," said his father, sighing, while he gazed with emotion on thedark eyes of his son. "In all unrestrained passions man is transformedinto an inexplicable but fearful miracle, then becomes realised andidentified with him, what the wildest fancy itself cannot imagine moreirrational. Let every man beware of this state, still less let him seekit, as you do, Edmond; your fire will consume you. Go not yonder sooften to the lady of Castelnau: this will nourish your enthusiasm anddestroy you." Edmond quitted the hall abruptly without saying a word.The old man looked after him, sighed and said to himself, "Ardent loveand bigotry encouraged by an enthusiastic woman what may they noteffect in our times in this poor youth; who knows the misery that isstill before me!"
"For God's sake, my Lord," exclaimed old Frantz, rushing in, "what isthe matter with our son; there he is running up the vineyard without ahat, and the storm is fast gathering. Oh, if you had but not scoldedhim! He will never indeed give up the lady!"
"How do you know," asked the father, "that the conversation related toher?"
"He ran by me," replied Frantz, "and looked at me with that verypeculiar, fierce expression, which he only has, if any one speaks ofthe Lady Christine; the
n only he stamps his feet; he has thrown downthe apple-tree there, and kicked back his own Hector that was runningafter him, which he never does at any other time; some harm will yetbefall our Edmond."
"May God watch over him," said his father; at that moment a flash oflightning darted from the dark stormy clouds, and cast a singular lightround the vineyards, so violent a clap of thunder immediatelysucceeded, that the whole of the great building rocked and creaked.Hector crouched down by Frantz, and the little Eveline ran into thehall with her fair locks fluttering behind her, immediately after herentrance, the rain began to descend in torrents, the herds were seeneverywhere hastily crowding together; the shepherds hallooed to theirflocks, the dogs barked, and in the intervals of the roaring of thetempest the rustling of the trees was heard; the streams dashed loudlydown the hills and the rain pelted heavily on the roof of the house.Martha began to chaunt aloud from the upper story; soon after thetrampling of horses and hasty footsteps were heard. The door opened andthree men entered, the foremost of them, who had alighted from hishorse, turned to the proprietor of the house with these words:"Necessity requires no bidding! the proverb, my Lord Counsellor ofParliament is quite right, for otherwise I had not ventured to renew aformer acquaintance so unceremoniously: I am the vicar of St. Sulpice,there beyond St. Hippolite, and take the liberty to beg the shelter ofyour roof for a short time in this remote place, against the violenceof the storm."
"You are welcome, my friend," said the Counsellor of Parliament, "aswell as the other gentlemen; you shall have a fire to warm and dryyourselves, and you will do well to remain here this evening, for thestorm will certainly last until night, as is usually the case in thisneighbourhood."
Frantz and another domestic had already lighted a fire in the largechimney, and the strangers approached the friendly flames in order todry their garments, while the vicar begged the servant to take care ofhis nag.
The other two strangers had made their request and testified theirrespect for the Counsellor of Parliament only by a silent bow, duringwhich the little fair girl took advantage of the momentary confusion,to approach the guests and examine them with curiosity. One of theseappeared to be a huntsman, for he wore a green dress and carried acouteau-de-chasse and a rifle, the latter, which was loaded, he verycarefully placed on the mantel-piece. During these various proceedings,Eveline had already in her way formed an acquaintance with the thirdstranger, who seemed to be her favorite, for she gave him herhandkerchief to wipe the rain from his face, and offered him somefruit, which he smilingly declined, and after looking at him for sometime, she said, "Where have you left your hat?" "The storm without hascarried it off from me," said the young stranger, "and blew it far, faraway, so that I could not catch it again."
"It must have been drole enough," said Eveline, laughing, "you afterthe hat, the storm after you, and the rain after the storm, you couldnot overtake your hat, but the rain and storm overtook you."
The Lord of Beauvais drew near, and said, "You entertain this strangeralready?" "Does he not look good and kind;" exclaimed the child, "justlike the schoolmaster in the village, who teaches me to read, but whois obliged to limp already with his young, thin legs."
"Behave politely, my child," said the Counsellor kindly, and he putaside her fair locks from her forehead. He examined his guest while hewas paying the usual compliments. The young stranger appeared to beabout sixteen, or seventeen years of age, he was something below themiddle height, his figure was delicately formed, but as the child hadsaid, the expression of his countenance was amiability itself. A slighttinge of red coloured his thin cheeks; his eyes were of the lightestblue, and had acquired by a mark on the right eye-lid, a very peculiarexpression; short, fair hair lay thick and smooth, over his dazzlinglypure white forehead: his voice had something effeminate in it from itshigh pitch, and from his whole bearing and bashfulness of manner, onemight have easily taken him for a maiden in disguise.
"I came over to day from Pont-du-gard, and intended to proceed toMontpellier, when this storm overtook me fortunately just in front ofyour door, my Lord Counsellor," said the vicar approaching again. "Imust confess, I should not have thought, that there could be such abuilding as this aqueduct, if my own eyes had not convinced me of it. Idoubt that the Coloseum at Rome, or the stupendous church of St. Petercould have produced so great an impression on my mind, as thesemajestic, vaulted arches, and these pillars one over the other, whichso boldly and so easily unite two distant mountains."
"Whoever has not yet seen this work of antiquity," said the Counsellor,"may well consider every report of it exaggerated, and, perhaps,reverend sir, you will not believe either, that it encreases ingrandeur the oftener one looks at it; the eye cannot familiarize itselfwith its magnificence, although its first sight is so highlysatisfactory, and in this contemplation of the sublime, the mostpleasing emotions take possession of us. Thus must it ever be with allthat is truly great," "Those heathenish Romans," said the priest, "havedone much in this respect, they must ever be our teachers; but on myway here, before the commencement of the storm, I heard a great deal offiring."
"The Camisards and the royal troops are at it again," said thehuntsman. "But to day, it is said, that the Huguenots have entirelylost the game." "How so?" demanded the Counsellor.
"I heard on the other side of the water,--thank God, that I am onthis!--that they had taken prisoner Catinat and Cavalier, and thereforeit is probably all over with the war. What a pity, say I, if theymassacre Cavalier, as they have so many others."
"Why a pity?" exclaimed the priest hastily, "what else then does therebel deserve? perhaps you are also a follower of the new doctrine?""No, reverend sir," said the huntsman, "I was one of the every firstthat was converted by these gentlemen dragoons. They came in the nameof the king, and--of him whose bread I eat, whose song I sing--theywere not particularly gentle; thirty in the village were massacred:'Dog,' said they, 'the pure faith, or die!' why so harsh? said I, I amnot at all prejudiced against the creed, only you might have enforcedit with a little more gentleness. When I saw the execrable man[oe]uvre,my resolution was quickly formed, and I am now in the service of aright zealous catholic master, the Intendant of Basville. I only meanthat it is a pity for Cavalier for he is a good fellow, and has alreadypuzzled many a brave officer."
"That is very true," said the priest a little softened, "he is the onlyone among the rebels, who understands how to conduct the affair;fearless as a lion, generous, ever self-possessed, knowing how tooccupy the best positions, and humane to his prisoners, he is born tobe a hero and a leader, and still more to be admired, for from aswineherd he rose to greatness. It is through him that I have lost myvicarage and that I am now making a tour here in Camargue, Nismes, andMontpellier in order to obtain another appointment."
"How is that sir?" enquired the Counsellor, "mind your own business! asthe saying is, but we do not always follow this wise maxim," repliedthe former, "for hot blood and passion, but to often master our reason.You know that some time since a sort of crusade was preached againstthe Camisards in the Cevennes; the young men in Nismes and in thesurrounding country have enlisted as volunteers and lie in wait for therebels wherever they can; the hermit of the Cevennes, an old captain,has taken the field with a troop of rash, desperate fellows and fightslike a Samson; but it is reported that he is very impartial, for, whenan opportunity offers, he treats friends and foes alike, and hasalready plundered many an old Catholic, or stretched him in thetrenches. Now, if such things occur, when all the energies are excitedin the melee, it is not so much to be wondered at, though they mayhappen a little too frequently; verily he has more deliberately countedover his rosary than he can now the number of murders he commits. It iscurious enough, that a hermit, who had intended to renounce the worldso entirely, should embark again in such adventures; his old militaryardour is probably aroused within him. I too, retired in my solitaryvillage in the mountains, when I heard of these proceedings was fired,or inspired with them, and formed the resolution of also rendering myp
oor services to God and the king, my parishoners would not hear of it:by Jove! they have no heroism in them, they have an antipathy to woundsand death, or they have secret dealings with the Camisards, as I havealways suspected that satan's brood of it, for much as I have loudlyand zealously harangued them in the pulpit, they almost invariablyslept during my sermon: that they were thus insensible to my loudexhortations, is alone a proof, that they must have been possessed bythe devil. In pursuance of my design, I assembled some people together,two Spanish deserters, three Savoyards, five fellows who had escapedfrom prison, and two prodigiously bold tinkers. It was at the time,when Cavalier had so incomprehensively taken the town of Sauve in themiddle of the mountains and laid it under contribution. We marcheddirectly against them, passing St. Hipolite, for I received intelligencethat this rebel commander had abandoned his corps with a small troop.We met him just as we issued from a narrow defile in the mountains, Icalled to him to surrender; he resisted, bang! I shot a fellow dead,who was standing by him, I fell upon them with sword and gun and broketheir ranks--sir, it was an epoch in my life, it was as if threeregiments were in my body--shots were fired, I looked back,---there laymy whole army cut down behind me by a few villains--my courage failed,I rode off as fast as my horse would carry me, it was the samehungarian horse, my good sir, now, in your stable,--I am saved.
"Cavalier, as I understand, was a reasonable man, but the knave, who iscalled after the late Marshal Catinat, stirred up the others; theymarch into my village, persuade my penitents to join them, set fire tomy house and even to my dear dilapidated church, and have sworn to hewme into ten thousand pieces, if I ever shew myself there again. Now asI have suffered all this for the sake of my country, it is but justthat reparation should be made to me for the loss I have sustained, andI am shortly to receive a better living with a good Catholic Christiancommunity herein the neighbourhood of Nismes. Thus was my chivalrousexpedition terminated; but I have sworn, that wherever I see but one,or more of these murderous dogs--were there a hundred, to make themfeel my vengeance."
The Counsellor turned with indignation from the priest and hiscountenance brightened as Edmond, in a different dress, entered thehall. "This is witch's weather," said he, and kissed his father's hand,which the latter held out to him kindly. He then mingled with thecompany and soon entered into conversation with the loquacious priest.
"As I was saying," recommenced the latter in his clamorous manner,"these numskulls have something quite peculiar and incomprehensible inthem. Even the children, urchins of three years old, pretend to exhortand preach atonement, they can speak as familiarly of every sin, as ifthey had long ago gone through the whole catalogue of them, this is awell known fact; moreover, it frequently happens, that these devil'snurslings even prophecy, and most of them speak in good and distinctFrench about what probably they have never heard in their lives--thismay be explained by all who like explanations, some say, that they arein a fit, others that they are possessed with the devil, those of theirown party take it for inspiration. Above there in Alais, some hundredsof them assemble, great and small, old and young, prophecying among oneanother, that the walls of their prison might be broken down. Themedical college of Montpellier has transferred itself thither, eachdoctor has taken with him his hat and cloak; I believe they have alsocarried with them the antique mantle of Rabelais, in order to be quiteperfect in their art. I hear they have now observed, discoursed,disputed, calculated, speculated, deduced, and what is the result? thatwe are as wise as before. These learned gentlemen declare, that itcannot be taken for divine inspiration because it is opposed to theking and the clergy; and still less can they be possessed by the devil,in as much as they speak and sing only spiritual things and do not asyet know the ways of that gentleman, neither, say they, could itproceed from fits, or any other bodily infirmity, but it was to themsomething quite unheard of and new; it may well be termed new, and,therefore, must appropriately be called fanaticism and the peopledenominated fanatics." "There may be many things," interrupted thehuntsman hastily, "that are inexplicable; with your reverence'spermission, my opinion is, that they are all bewitched; for, if youhave no objection, that is the easiest explanation of the matter;therefore, there is no such great injustice in burning them--alwaysexcepting Mr. Cavalier, for whom I should be very sorry--and the reasonwhich might tolerate such proceedings is, that they may not by degreesinfect the whole community, for it is very evident that the evil isspreading daily and is communicated from one to the other. Witchcraftis just as much something corporeal as well as spiritual, somethingvisible as well as invisible, and not only men, but also houses,mountains and rivers may be enchanted; I have experienced this myselfin the course of my life."
"And how?" enquired the Counsellor. "Do you not know the wide-spreadingash, which stands in the field between the castle of Castelnau andthe town of Alais? at no great distance from that is the large, oldolive-tree, which, they say, is three, or four hundred years old, butit is so far certain, that both the trees, particularly the ash, may beseen at the distance of many miles from the plain as well as from themountains."
"I know both these trees very well," said Edmond.
"Now," continued the huntsman, "under the ash it is not safe. While Iwas yet a boy in the service of the father of the present lady ofCastelnau, who almost always resided at Alais, for the castle wasthought to be too lonely for her, I went out as I often did, to shoothares: It was towards evening and a storm like that of to-day overtookme, I sought shelter under the great ash to escape getting wet through,but scarcely had I leaned against the trunk, gracious sir, than I wasseized with indescribable agitation and fear, my heart began to beat, atremor came over me, I was terrified--I was compelled to quit myshelter--I was wet through--I returned, and again the same sensationsunder the tree; it was not permitted to me to remain there, I wasobliged to go into the open space while the rain was falling as ifheaven and earth would come together. The next morning it was brightmidday and summer weather, said I to myself, dolt! wert thou frightenedbecause it was dark, perhaps thou wert terrified at the claps ofthunder; wilt thou become a noble huntsman if thou hast such littleheart,--so I went half laughing under the tree, I fancied myselfsleeping under its shade,--but no such thing! I was seized with greaterterror and agitation than ever, my teeth chattered and an icy coldnesschilled me, I fled from the spot.--I mentioned the circumstance to anold forester: 'Fool!' said he, 'have not the huntsmen told you that thetree permits no one to stand under it?' It is an old story. He couldnot tell me the reason of this, but warned me not to play any trickswith it. However, I did not follow his advice, but returned to it witha young lad. To him it was productive of evil, for he became sick untodeath with the fright; since that time, I avoid the tree and so doesevery one who knows it. It must have been bewitched some time orother."
"Heaven only knows, what may be the meaning of all this," began thepriest, "we live at least in times when events occur, which formerlywould have been deemed impossible. Now there is somethingincomprehensible in these prophecying children. It was said, some yearsago, that here, and there, in the Cevennes, in Dauphine, and in theneighbouring Beauvarais that such things were practised, and peopletravelled to hear and see them. At present whole villages are full ofthem, they are to be seen in the market-places, in the public housesand like the diseases, incidental to childhood formerly, it seems thatall children must undergo the gift of prophecy. Government has thussharply reprimanded them, by making the parents responsible, thrownthose into prison and sending the fathers to the galleys, for it wasconjectured that from these alone proceeded the delusion. A peasant,one of my parishoners, came to me, saying 'for God's sake sir, help me!my little girl, six years old, began yesterday to prophecy, I am a deadman if the thing becomes known; my wife and I are certainly of the truefaith as you can testify, but now they will arrest us as rebels, asthey have done to so many others.'
"Only use the whip," said I, "let the girl hunger and she will soonforget to prophecy. 'All that has been tried, reveren
d sir,' groanedthe old man, 'and more than my conscience will justify; the child isill from my ill-treatment, for as soon as she begins to prophecy, or tosing psalms, which she has never heard from me, I have chastised herseverely; I have not given her a morsel of bread for three days, yetshe does not give up, but goes on still worse. Come, I pray, to myhouse and see yourself; if she is possessed by a devil, you canconjure, is it any thing else, you can exhort.' I had never seen suchprophecying creatures, I went therefore out of curiosity with the oldman. As we entered the house, the child was sitting at a spinningwheel, she was pale and thin, and seemed half silly, she complained ofhunger and pain. I can see nothing in the child, said I, 'oh, if shewas always reasonable like that,' exclaimed the peasant. Presently theworm was seized with a sobbing in the throat: 'there we have the gift,'said the old man, 'the disorder is breaking out now--exorcise, reverendsir!' as the little creature was thus struggling, her body dilated, shefell on the ground, her bosom throbbed and heaved, and suddenly weheard as it were quite a strange tone, which did not belong to thechild. 'I tell thee, my child, if thy parents repent and follow thespirit, all will be right and good, and thou shalt partake of libertyand of my word.' I was terrified, especially as the devil spoke as pureFrench as the child of persons of rank; I sprinkled her with holywater, I vehemently conjured that the devil, if it was one, might comeout of her; all in vain, the little thing cried out, 'I tell you, theidolaters shall not prevail against you, and this evil one shall findthe reward of his misdeeds,' thereby meaning myself: the unfortunatechild, because I was so zealous in my calling; then followedexhortation and singing, and pure fear of God and admonition torepentance. I could scarcely do it better myself: she then arose andseemed just as miserable and foolish as before. I cannot help you, saidI to my penitent, you see that the word of God and holy water have noeffect on her; hunger and chastisement just as little, nor has yourpersuasion, nor the fear of rendering you unhappy had any weight withher, leave it to herself. In short, the child ate and drank again, andbecame more zealous than ever in preaching repentance; so that atlength the father was converted, or, at least, he ran to the mountainsto the Camisards, and said: 'if he were to be punished, or executed, heshould at least know wherefore.' Thus you see, I lost many penitentsthe preceding year, for when they have drawn suspicion on themselves,they prefer becoming rebels to avoid suffering anxiety, ill-treatment,and even death without a cause, as one may say. The case of theshepherd from my adjoining village is still more singular. He was awild, reckless fellow, and as strong in the right faith as need bewished; he had already delivered more than one Camisard and suspectedperson up to the executioner. He came running to me one morning at avery early hour, crying out, 'Help, help, reverend sir!' 'what is thematter now,' said I, 'have the Camisards set fire to your house, asthey have always threatened to do, on account of your zeal?' 'Ah, muchworse, much worse,' cried the knave, wringing his brown, bony hands.'Speak out shepherd,' said I, 'Do you know,' he began, 'my son, thetall Michael,--who does not know the lanky looby--he is known to almostall the mountaineers, it is indeed the cross of your house, that theidiot is so useless: he will neither work, nor mind the herds; he is sostupid, that he is scarcely considered a member of the church, yet heoften enough disturbs the congregation; he is only fit to carryburdens, and prefers living with the dogs, which he frequents as ifthey were his equals: Is he departed this transitory life? rejoice, foryou have one burden less.' 'It is not that indeed,' exclaimed the oldman, incensed, 'Oh, I should not grieve for that: But think, who in theworld would have supposed that the long broom-stick would have become aprophet?' 'How?' cried I, my mouth and eyes wide open with amazement;'so, a blockhead, who is good for nothing else in the world, may becomeone of their prophets?' I went therefore with the old man, but theaffair turned out still more strangely. As we entered the house, thethin, bony man was just in the act of prophecying, speaking in a puredialect about the deliverance of France, of liberty, of faith, of bettertimes, encouraging them to fight. I tried to pray, and to exorcise, butthe father seized his great shepherd's stick, brandished it over him,so that he would have killed him, had I not stopped his arm. We thenlistened for a short time, and what ensued? suddenly something gurgledin the old man's throat, he groaned, turned up his eyes, fell againstthe wall and then on the ground, and after a few mighty heavings of thebreast, he too began; he sang psalms, exhorted to repentance,prophecied the fall of Babel; nothing could equal it: as the old onesang, the young one twittered; I thought I was bewitched, my priestlyvestments fell from my hands, I could only listen to those twopossessed ones, who were howling out pure piety, and texts from theBible, and as I gazed at the astounding wonder with agitation and fear,I felt a shock through all my limbs, and sir, as true as heaven isabove us, a desire arose within me to be seized with similar fits, andto take a part in this unhappy affair. I rushed out into the open,blessed air of heaven. I thought on all dignitaries, of my bishop, ofthe great church and organ of Montpellier, of the letter which Ipossessed from the murdered Abbot of Chably, of our illustrious Marshalof Montrevel, of his dress-uniform, and of such things,--and God bepraised, the trembling left my body, and I am now a reasonable man anda christian priest again. Ever since that time, I look upon the wholeaffair with terror. Be it witchcraft, that they are possessed withdevils, bodily and infectious diseases, or the unknown, new fanaticismof the learned doctors, I have at least discovered that mankind iseasily entrapped, and that the Spaniard is right with his proverb: 'Noman can say of this water I will not drink.' The two shepherd knaveshave now also run into the wilds after Cavalier, and have become greatheroes of the faith."
The old Counsellor had gone out frequently during these details to giveorders to the domestics, who had in the mean while laid the table andprepared the evening repast. "My unknown friends," said the oldgentleman affably, "with whose company chance and the bad weather haveso unexpectedly honoured me, and who are to me,--with the exception ofthe reverend priest,--total strangers, let us all sociably and withoutceremony take our places at this table, eat and drink, and afterwardsenjoy a refreshing sleep under my roof." Edmond looked up, and couldscarcely believe at first that his father was in earnest; the priestcast an expressive glance at the huntsman and one of still deepermeaning at the young man, and smiled as if to hint, that he at allevents should withdraw from this distinguished circle, among which hehimself only had any claim to remain; but the little Eveline hung onthe young man's arm and drew him by her side to the table where heimmediately sat down with her the first without waiting for fartherbidding. "Quite right," said the Counsellor, "No ceremony if you wishto please me! here are no invited guests, we meet together as if wewere on board a ship or in a wood. I must render you all thishospitality without distinction." Edmond blushing, placed himself atthe head of the table by his father, the priest seated himself oppositeto him, by the side of the latter sat the huntsman, who left a largespace between himself and his neighbour, and then came Eveline and herplayfellow as he almost appeared. "Quite patriarchal," said the priest,"those men there, my worthy sir, will not forget to publish throughoutthe country, your philanthropy and contempt of prejudices."
At this moment the veil of clouds in the horizon burst asunder, the sunin its descent suddenly threw a purple glow over the lowering sky, ared fire spread itself over the mountain-vineyards, tree and bush, andvinetendril sparkled in the fiery ray, beyond the woods shonebrilliantly, and as the eye glanced upwards, the summits of the distantCevennes were seen glowing in the rosy light; on the left, thewaterfall rushed like blood from the steep rock, and the whole hall,the table, and the guests, all was as if bathed in blood, so that thelights just then burned darkly and the fire in the chimney emitted ablue flame. The rain had ceased, a holy silence reigned throughout allnature, not a leaf rustled, the red brook only flowed splashinglyalong, and the glowing waterfall murmured its melody. The oldCounsellor's eyes were cast upwards as if in fervent prayer, and a tearglistened in his full eye; the fair young man laid down his knife andfork and fo
lded his hands; the huntsman glanced timidly from under hisheavy eyebrows; the priest tried to assume a sanctified look; the childplayfully clapped her hands, and Edmond was lost in silent reflection.
Just as quickly as it was withdrawn, the curtain fell again over thehorizon and extinguished its light, upon which the Counsellor said,"was not this like an emblem of our country and of our misfortunes? asnecessity unites us all and brings us together, and as the misery thatoppresses us, if I may so express myself, becomes as it were sanctifiedand endeared to us? all our countrymen pass through this baptism ofblood, may heaven have pity on us." Edmond cast an expressive look onhis father and then glanced furtively at the huntsman and the youngstranger, as if to intimate, that such thoughts should not have beenexpressed in their presence; the old man smiled kindly on his son, butdid not even try to conceal his feelings.--
"Papa," cried Eveline, "it was as if the sky wished to play at hide andseek with us, just as little Dorothea with her plump, rosy cheekssmiles upon me and then, whisk! creeps under the cloth again."
"It was like a bleeding world crying for succour," exclaimed thefair-haired young man. Edmond cast a sidelong glance at him, and said,"It is perhaps the extinction of the nefarious revolt!"
"May be so," replied the youth, and raised his blue, child-like eyes toEdmond, "but I think that everything rests in the hands of the SupremeBeing."
"Most assuredly," said Edmond sharply, "and the evil would have ceasedlong since if so much disaffection, secret abettance, and malicious joyat the misfortunes of the king had not reigned among the commonpeople."
"Every reasonable person must own however," said the young man with amelancholy smile, "that the evil did not originate with the people;they were quiet, and although others may suffer, their miseries arebeyond expression."
The priest left off eating with astonishment, that the little unseemlyman should have the last word with the master of the house opposite tohim; he rolled his eyes up and down as if seeking for some astoundingwords of reproof; the little girl pressed the hands of her new friendfor engaging in dispute with Edmond, and the latter as his fatheralready began to testify his uneasiness at his son's violence, turnedaway with an expression of profound contempt, saying, "I know not withwhom I speak, but I think I have some knowledge of you; are you not theson of the late Huguenot sexton of Besere close by?"
"No, gracious sir," answered the young man perfectly unembarrassed, "Ihave not the honour of being known to you; I am now come to thisneighbourhood for the first time, to make some purchases, my name isMontan, or simply William, as I am called by the neighbours and by myfather, who is owner of the mill in the deep valley beyond Saumiere."
"Therefore a praiseworthy miller's lad!" said the priest. "It was notsung to you in your cradle that you should ever sit at table in suchcompany as this." "No, indeed," said the miller with emotion; "when Istood before the house, I thought not to find a reception as from thevenerable patriarchs we read of in the Holy Scriptures, I did notexpect to be introduced to a nobleman, who, to my mind and imagination,presents the most sublime picture of Abraham and Jacob." He wiped hiseyes, and as they were about to rise from table, he lifted his glass,and said, "pray allow me first, honoured sirs, to empty this glass intoken of my most heartfelt gratitude, and to the unalloyed happiness ofour respected host, and the endless prosperity of his noble house." Hedrank, and the old Lord bowed not without emotion, while Edmond and thepriest looked at each other long and enquiringly. The huntsman scrapedand smiled, and the priest in his astonishment forgot to drink.
They rose from table, and Eveline seated herself again by the side ofher favorite in a corner of the room, and said to him, "That is theright way, he is too haughty if one allows him to go on."
Her father approached them, "my child, it is now quite time for you toretire to bed." "Indeed papa," answered she kissing his hand, "I shouldlike to remain longer here, but there must be order, as you always say;I am obedient and will be your comfort, shall I not? it would indeed bevery wicked, and I should vex you, if I turned a prophet like so manyother children in this country." "God bless you, my love," said the oldman resting his hand upon her head; "go to bed, and you, my friend, sitdown here and rest yourself some time longer," said he, pressing theyoung miller's hand; when Eveline perceived her father's kindnesstowards him, she quickly returned, and throwing herself on the neck ofthe young man, kissed him repeatedly, then drawing back a little, shecurtsied gracefully, and in a lady-like manner, and waving her hand,said: "Au revoir," and followed the domestic who consigned her to hermaid.
"As you are from Saumiere," said the priest, turning to the miller,"You are surely acquainted with the hermit, who is now the leader of atroop against the Camisards?" "Oh, I know him very well," replied theyouth, "his cell is in a rocky valley, which is separated from our millonly by a stony fence; we often visited him on holidays, when thevalley was passable on our side; he is a tall, athletic man, with agrizly beard and large, grey eyes; he seemed peaceable and quiet untilthe war made him a soldier again. Unheard of cruelties are asserted tohave been committed by him; he is said not to know what compassion is,and must take pleasure in murder; but now his trade is over." "Is hedead?" enquired the Counsellor. "No, not exactly that," continued theyoung man, "but I heard a report on the Vidourla, that he was totallydefeated yesterday by Cavalier, and that, if he consults his ownadvantage, he will creep into a cell, for the common people will notsurely trust to him again, when they perceive that he does notunderstand his business."
"He has been a captain, however," said the huntsman.
"The combat against the rebels," said the priest, "is a difficultaffair, for _that_ courage and the ordinary discipline of a soldier donot suffice; our Marshal Montrevel would perhaps prefer fightingagainst Eugene and Marlborough than with these rag-o-muffins."
More wood was now piled on the fire. The father sat down, while Edmondpaced up and down the hall in visible inquietude, the priest drew hischair towards the Counsellor, and said: "You are suffering from thegout in your left foot, my lord."
"Why do you conclude so?" asked the old gentleman, "the leg does notappear to me swoln, although you have guessed rightly."
"The swelling," continued the priest, "is certainly almostimperceptible; but you often step lighter and more gently with thisfoot, probably without being conscious of it, perhaps this joint is alittle contracted in proportion to the right, and therefore has not thestrength of the latter."
"That is very critically observed," said the Counsellor.
"My honoured sir," continued the priest, "it is incredible howconsistent and reasonable nature is in all her productions. To analyseher in her minutest parts is instructive, however ridiculous it mayappear to the unpractised. More than a century ago, the Neapolitan, Dela Porte, wrote an excellent book on physiognomy comparing the humanand the brutal together; in the earlier ages people tried to read onthe countenance the virtues, vices, and qualities of the disposition:Believe me, if I could devote my leisure hours to this subject, I amconfident I should carry it so far as to be able to discover from ashoe, or a boot, that had been worn for a time, many faults orpeculiarities of its possessor."
"Really?" said the old Lord smiling, "They betray themselves by thegarments, when closely examined; the hasty, or irresolute gait, theshuffling of the feet, the gliding step of ladies, are certainly veryexpressive; a certain nonchalant manner of walking, a haughty tread ofthe heel, an affected, frivolous sliding on tip toe, the indecisivetottering footstep, by which the shoe loses its shape, excepting thequalities which however demonstrate themselves by the high, or lowinstep, or by the flatness of the foot. But now for the legs; if thesewere exhibited in their natural state, it would be scarcely possible tomistake the rank, profession, and way of life; then there are tailor'sand baker's legs, which it is impossible not to recognise, foot andcavalry soldier's legs, weaver's and joiner's legs, and so on."
"These are very interesting observations," said the Counsellor, "wouldyou, for instance, v
enture to declare the former manner of life of myFrantz by his legs?"
"By my legs?" exclaimed the old servant, who was still busied inclearing away. "Here they are, reverend sir."
"Stoop a little--now go yonder--come back again--stand perfectlyupright--my Lord Counsellor, I could swear that your Frantz has been inhis youth, nay at a later period of life, a mariner."'
The servant looked at the priest astounded, and the Lord of Beauvaissaid: "You have hit it, my reverend friend; but from what do you drawyour conclusion?"
"No mariner," said the priest "ever loses entirely the straggling andsomewhat stooping gait which he has acquired on shipboard, he sinks hisloins in walking, and a slight limp remains for the rest of his life."
When the other servant approached, the priest immediately cried out,"Give yourself no further trouble, one can see at the distance of agun-shot, that the good man has been a tailor in his youth, and that hecertainly pursues the same occupation now, for the bent shins clearlydemonstrate it." "You follow the chase," turning to the huntsman whowas standing; "it must be so, although I should rather have taken youfor a soldier, and from the eye, for a smuggler; by the bye, what isthe matter with your right knee? it certainly is not from attendingmass, from whence then does this slight protuberance proceed? perhapsyou have acquired the strange habit of falling on your right knee whenyou shoot?"
"Reverend sir," exclaimed the huntsman, "you must be a bit of a wizardyourself, for you have hit the mark. From my youth upwards I have neverbeen able to shoot but in a kneeling position; should a hare run byunder my nose, I cannot hit it standing, I must first throw myselfdown; but I have always been much ridiculed by my companions for it."
"For the rest," resumed the priest, "you have mountain-legs, and youmust have been born in the Cevennes, or the Pyrenees, your eye too ischaracteristic of the mountaineer who is far-sighted."
"Just so," said the huntsman, "I come from Lozere, the wildest part ofthe mountains."
"Well, my young friend," said the connoisseur in legs, turning to theyoung lad,--"You pretend to be a miller and want miller's legs, howdoes that happen? observe, that from carrying sacks, the miller's backis early bent and becomes broad and round, but the principal weightpresses upon the calves of the legs, the sinews of the hams becomedisproportionately strong; but with you these are precisely the weakestparts, the ancles too are not large enough: here, _summa summarum_fails the miller's character, for my science cannot deceive."
"In this I cannot assist you, sir," said the young man petulantly, "forI am what I am, and will remain so."
"For my part," quickly rejoined the critic, "I desire not to press tooclosely on your miller's honour, you may probably be a spoilt,effeminate mother's darling, who would not suffer you to be too heavilyladen, your hair and whole countenance have a mealy character, yourvoice too sounds like the wheat-bell and the mill-hopper, but when Ilook at your knees, they seem to me to be those of a baker, which areturned in from shoving the bread into the oven and taking it out again;during this process he is obliged to keep in a stooping position andrests upon his knees; but I discover the strangest contradiction inyour thighs, for they are those of a horseman and of one who ridesmuch, your eye too betrays a martial spirit, it darts here and thereand is never quiet as a miller's ought to be, who is attentive to hisbusiness; in short, you are to me in your legs and in your whole persona very puzzling youth."
The young man reddened with resentment and the Counsellor endeavouredto turn the entire affair into merriment and laughter,--when the wholeparty was suddenly alarmed by a violent knocking at the front door ofthe house, that aroused even Edmond from his reverie. "For God's sakelet me in," roared a voice loudly from without, "open to me in the nameof heaven!"
At a sign from the Counsellor, who quickly recovered from his surprise,the servants rushed forward, the company looked at one another insilence, the bolts were withdrawn, and the tread of heavy footsteps washeard approaching the hall; the doors were thrown open, and lighted bythe servants, a tall, powerfully-built figure with grey hair andmoustaches of the same hue entered, he held in his hand a massivestaff, that without exaggeration might be termed a club; a long, broadsword trailed clanging after him, and four pistols were stuck, in ablack leather girdle. On his entrance he approached the host, and saidin a deep, sonorous voice, "Pardon me, my lord, the alarm I must havecaused you, I was benighted, pursued and in danger, therefore Iventured, certainly rather unceremoniously, to claim the shelter ofyour house."
"Oh heavens, it is the terrible hermit!" exclaimed the miller in ahoarse voice, "I am he, indeed," replied the gigantic figure, "but whyterrible, my young simpleton? I may surely be permitted to show my faceevery where, presumptuous fellow; and I have shown it before otherphysiognomies than yours.--Your pardon! Sir Baron, if I give way to mydispleasure at the presumption of this hireling. Yes, reverend sir, Iam he, who under the name of the hermit is not unknown in this part ofthe country; in this character I wished to do homage to my God, but anenvious fate thwarts me. To-day my troop has been entirely dispersed,and I have only saved my own life through the greatest exertions, for Iwas pursued even in the darkness of the night; my enemies cannot be faroff, my life is forfeited, if you refuse me your protection."
"All I possess," said the Counsellor, "is at your service, my house, myservants and myself will protect you as far as we are able,independently of the claims of humanity; my duty to my king and countrydemand this."
"You are an honourable man," replied the giant, "such as I had everyreason to expect."--At his invitation, he sat down by the side of themaster of the house to partake of the wine and refreshments, which theservants placed before him. "I hope," said he, "that the storm andsudden fall of night have prevented them from tracing my route, butevery moment of this day has been a perilous one to me. Yonder, on theright at Nages, the body of Camisards has been totally defeated; as Ipassed the Vidourla to give the rout to my enemies, I met a flyingdetachment of them, who, instead of showing any fear, assembledtogether, and fell upon me like so many devils; their number was notgreat, but it seemed as if they were aided by magic, a panic seized mypeople; they crowded together, they reached the Vidourla, the furiousfoes behind them. At that moment the storm burst forth, the watersrushed down from the mountains and swelled the rapid mountain-stream toa fearful height, it overflowed its banks, and I saw the dead, thewounded, and the living ingulphed in the waters; I swang myself upon atree, and from that to a barren rock; more than a hundred muskets werelevelled at me, my double-barrelled gun aided me as much as possible,but my sword was useless, the storm threatened to hurl me down, I triedto ascend in spite of the wind and the rushing waters, the rock, fromincessant washing, had become slippery as ice, but at length Isucceeded in gaining a footing in the midst of the rolling floods, Icrept up higher, my steps illumined by the dazzling lightning, and theflashing from the enemy's guns, while the balls wizzed round me: Thus Iarrived at a vineyard: I was compelled to scale the wall, on the otherside I found two daring fellows, who had climbed over there before me,they fell beneath my sword, I entered a wood, and soon found myselfstanding upon a level rock, but without track or foot-path, neitherroad nor bridge was to be seen, precipices yawned below me; must I goback, or down! I slid down, the darkness prevented me fromdistinguishing anything; after repeated falls, I felt some shrubs underme, a huge shepherd's dog of the most ferocious species attempted todrag me down, there was no herdsman to be seen, or within call, I wascompelled to wrestle with the fierce animal; night had now entirelyclosed in, I thought I heard the sound of bells, I groped my waytowards the place from whence the sounds proceeded; soon afterwards Iheard men's voices; are they friends or foes? while I was advancingwith cocked pistols and drawn sword,--'Who's there?' suddenly gratedupon my ears; I discovered they were the Camisards; as I gave noanswer, they fired, and by the flashing I perceived distinctly ten ofmy foes standing at the opening of a ravine; no choice was left me, Iadvanced, the first fell, shot by my pistol, a second was cut down bymy sw
ord, the obscurity of the ravine favoured me, nothing remained butto fly, as quick as age and exhaustion would permit, they shouted andfired after me; at length I perceived I had attained a high road, theflashing from the fire-aims discovered to me a porch, somethingappeared in the distance like barns and buildings, I ran in thatdirection, and at last I reached the door of your house."
"Sir captain," said the Counsellor, "repose is necessary to your oldage after this exertion and fatigue, lie down, and the safety, which myhouse is capable of affording, I again assure you, shall be faithfullygranted to you."
"May heaven reward you," said the captain; "I look upon this untowardadventure as a hint of fate, warning me to lay down my arms, I shall doso, and return to a cell, or a cloister. Had Cavalier been with thetroop, I should not have escaped him, for he possesses the utmostpresence of mind, he is the boldest and indeed the most soldierly amongthe rebels."
"It is said that he is taken prisoner," observed the huntsman.
"The war is over then," exclaimed the hermit, "for, without him, theycan undertake nothing; this powerful man is alone the soul of theirventurous enterprise. The others understand well enough how to kill andto die, but not how to conduct the war. I wish he had died; for shouldhe be taken prisoner, his fate will be one worthy of commiseration."
During this discourse, the priest, who had until then consideredhimself of so much importance, now felt lost and dwindled to nothing bythe side of the so far greater adventurer. He would willingly havetestified his veneration for him by an embrace, or, at least, by agrasping of the hand, but he dared not venture to approach one, whosewrath was so easily excited by any degree of familiarity. The tall manpaced up and down the hall, examining all present with a scrutinisinglook: "Two servants, perhaps, moreover a valet and a huntsman," hemuttered to himself, but loud enough to be heard, "will not indeed becapable of offering much resistance, the house is by no means fortifiedin case of an attack, then the young lord here, a sort of sportsman,the black one also in case of necessity to engage the enemy, but thatchicken-hearted one, (looking penetratingly at the young miller) thatdowny-faced fellow is quite useless. May God forbid, we should be putto so severe a test." He now, as well as the others, paid their partingcompliments to the Counsellor, as they were retiring for the night;they were lighted to their apartments by the domestics, and Edmondalone remained in the hall with his father. The rain had ceased, butthe night was dark and the sky was covered with lowering clouds. Thefather and son walked up and down for some time in silence; at lengththe Counsellor said: "will you not retire to rest my son?" "I am stilltoo much agitated and did you not hear, that our last guest feared weshould perhaps have to receive another unexpected visit?"--Silenceensued, but Edmond after a pause recommenced: "Forgive me, my father,if I confess, that I have not understood you to-day, that I have notrecognised in you the same person as formerly. That you received thesepeople and sheltered them from the storm, was natural enough, but howit could be conformable to your disposition, (or what shall I call it)to suffer them to eat at your table without distinction, I cannotexplain to myself. Often already have our people entertained menials;and what countenance shall I assume when this squinting huntsman shallwait upon me again at the table of the Lord of Basville, I know not;and what will the Intendant and the Marshal, who certainly must hear ofit, think, or say? How shall I explain it to myself, that you receivedthat miller's boy not only with kindness and condescension, but yetwith hearty familiarity? who is even too low to be your menial, thatyou allow my sister, who is always too forward to play and romp withhim?"
"My son," said the old man with some emotion, "it seems indeed, that,the older I become, the less capable do I feel of justifying myself toyou: I might say, accustom yourself to my ways, as I must throughaffection bear with yours, though I misunderstand them so often. Youmust certainly excuse me, as you did not explain yourself before, ourconversation to-day had made so deep an impression on me, indeed, suchas I have not experienced for a long time. In my emotion I forgot toattend to the usual etiquette of life, and as I could not avoidentertaining the priest at our own table, I added the two other poorfellows, but as to that miller, who has more particularly drawn uponhimself your hatred and contempt, his child-like countenance and frank,open manners, in my opinion, did more honour to my table, than yourMarshal Montrevel could ever do. Accident, the weather brought ustogether; the times are also so changed that we do not yet know, but weourselves may be compelled to sue for refuge among the most miserable.But as you so despise that youth, I still less comprehend that youshould honour him so highly as to argue with him, nay, to seek yourselffor a dispute; for the future interfere not with my ways."
They sat down and as Edmond was silent, the Counsellor said, after apause: "What do you think then of this priest and his manners? such asthese, you see, are appointed to direct and instruct the people, theunfortunate people! these became combatants and murderers like thiscolossus. That my house is compelled to shelter such, that is it indeedwhich humbles me. All champions for a good cause may not beindividually good," said Edmond.
"Retire to rest now, my son," said the Counsellor kindly, "I shall situp some time longer, I am too disturbed to be able to sleep, I shallread yet a little while, rest will then ensue with cooler blood."Edmond embraced his father, and then retired to his chamber. The oldman gazed sorrowfully after him, and thought upon his son's futuredestiny; he sunk into a deep and melancholy reverie, no where did hope,or comfort seem to await him. He took up his book in order to calm theperturbation of his spirit, he tried to collect himself; he reflectedupon the wonderful disposition of the mind, to divert itself by thatwhich is most profound, in order to escape from its own appropriatefeelings, and to be itself again in the inward sanctuary of the spirit.Thus without reading Plato, which he had laid open before him, hebecame more and more absorbed in a contemplative investigation on thedouble nature of the soul and of the mind, that reflects on itself andcomprehends its nature and property, which, in thought, at the sametime, views, and proving it, ponders upon this thought, being at onceactor and spectator, and being only at this moment truly conscious ofitself. He did not know how long he might have indulged in thesereflections; when raising his eyes, he was surprised to see his son byhis side. "You are still here, Edmond?" said he wondering. "No, myfather," whispered the son, "I have reposed quite two hours, but justnow when I awoke, I heard under the window a whispering and a movementas of many men, I approached, but could distinguish nothing, however,it seemed to me, as if people were gathering round our house, I haveloaded in haste all our fire-arms, and quietly awakened the domestics.The strangers are still asleep, but they must now assist in ourdefence."
"If it be so, and that you have not been mistaken," said the father,"promise me only not to be too eager; let us be quiet and collected,for thereby one may be often enabled to prevent the worst, but I wellknow, by experience, that from the love of danger and fiery courage,which as easily defeat their object as cowardice, misfortune anddestruction may be drawn down upon us. We must not venture alone, youmust not forget your little sister. Now do I wish, that I had been asoldier, that I might meet this invasion with serenity, should it cometo this, but we shall do what honour demands of us; but more than thedanger itself do I fear your hastiness." In the mean while a murmur andthe approach of footsteps were heard nearer; several voices weredistinguished, a noise proceeded from the road and garden, so that itappeared, that they were taking possession of all the outlets.Immediately afterwards a knocking was heard at the door. The servantsdrew near, but at a mute signal from their master they remainedtranquil; immediately the tumult became louder and several voicesraised an unintelligible cry, Edmond grew warm, his father looked athim significantly; but soon, however, the name of the hermit resoundedclearly and distinctly from out of the confused murmur. "They demandhim," cried Edmond; "They are the Camisards!" The cry was repeated,they knocked louder, they became even noisy, the screams of women andthe cries of children were now also heard; the Counsellor
caused allthe weapons to be brought forward, he was hastily distributing them tothe servants, when trembling and ghastly pale the tall figure of thehermit, half dressed, tottered in, followed by the priest, bewilderedand terrified; both seized the hand of their host, and while they werefiring without, the knocking at the door and demands for the hermitbecame more violent. "Oh, heaven! compassion!" exclaimed the latter,"thou hast heard my oath, that I would in future refrain from blood,but it is too late, I am a victim to their vengeance!" With these wordsthe tremendous figure fell senseless to the ground in utter despair!the child rushed into the hall with her maid; terrified and cryingaloud she threw herself into her father's arms; the latter tried tocomfort her, but one could see in his pale countenance, that he himselfentertained but little hope. "I will protect you as long as I can,"cried he, "but the multitude appears too great to allow of my defendingthe house." Fire! fire! cried a hundred voices from without at the sametime, and lighted fire brands were seen through the windows! at thatmoment the door was shaken, by large trees, which were thrown againstit like battering rams. "Oh heavens!" cried the priest, while his teethchattered, "had I but the tenth part of my former courage,--but I amnot at all prepared for this, I have slept a little already, which hascompletely relaxed my spirit." He took off his hat, "how impolite Iam!" sighed he, but it was almost laughable, even in that moment, thatunder this he still wore his night-cap, without being aware of it, andin wandering about in every corner of the hall, he carried his hat inhis hand. The huntsman now stole in, took his loaded gun from theshelf, and placed himself quietly by the chimney; "whither are yougoing" exclaimed Edmond, "out with the rifle, you must all defendyourselves!" "Impossible," stammered the man, "give up the old villain,otherwise the whole house is lost, I know the Camisards." "Scoundrel!"thundered the young man--"where is the miller? Still in bed? all ofyou, you miserable varlets, shall defend this place with me, nay, eventhat weak, effeminate boy shall make common cause with us."
"The hermit was praying on the ground, all were shouting confusedlyin the hall, but no word was heard distinctly; all was confoundedwith the storm, which every moment became more violent without. Thewindow-frames were demolished, the door cracked and appeared to giveway, when, with an apparent air of indifference, the young millerentered, carelessly tying his neckerchief and said: 'Let me out by theback-door, I will speak to the enraged multitude,--quick, give me thekey!' These last words were uttered in a tone of command. The old Lordlooked at him, took the key from the wall, and opened the door to himhimself, the youth went round to the other side of the house. Edmondposted himself with a loaded gun opposite the door, in order to fireamong the assailants, in case they succeeded in forcing an entrance.Suddenly a tremendous shout was raised, which seemed like acclamationsof joy and was reiterated by the crowds surrounding the house. Then allwas still; and after a while a deep voice exclaimed: 'He must come outthe assassin, on this spot he shall be torn to pieces!' 'Merciful God,'cried the hermit from the ground, where he still lay, 'that is theterrible Catinat, who knows no compassion!'--after a few wordsexchanged among them, the high and almost hoarse voice of the youth washeard. 'Silence all,' cried he vehemently: nothing more could bedistinguished, for a confused murmur arose. The child glancing fromunder her dishevelled fair long tresses, said: 'Observe, my littleDavid will yet save that great Goliath there.' The crowds without drewthemselves up and marched away, the youth returned again by thegarden-door, much heated and nearly breathless; he approached, thehermit still lying prostrate, fixed his eyes upon him, then caught himby the breast and said, 'rise up, God has again spared you to-day, youare safe, return to the town or to your own house:' He then turned tothe huntsman, whispered something in his ear, whereupon the lattersuddenly fell terrified upon his knees and exclaimed, 'Mercy!' 'Besilent!' said the young miller hastily. The priest looked as if hecould have embraced the knees of the wonderful youth, who now turned tothe master of the house, and said, in gentle tones: 'my honoured host,I consider myself fortunate in having been able to protect you; therewere certainly a few Camisards, but the crowd was principally composedof a number of drunken millers-men from my part of the country, who hadmet with some other rough, intoxicated fellows. It was lucky, that Iwas known to some of them, in consequence of which, the small number ofCamisards also suffered themselves to be pacified. It seems that theyassembled more for pleasure than for any wicked purpose. Receive mythanks for your noble hospitality, worthy and honoured man.' He bowed,the old Lord seemed as if he wished to embrace him, but the opportunitywas lost in irresolution and the stranger was already at the door.
"Farewell David!" exclaimed the child. He looked back once more with aserious and enquiring expression, raised his hand and eyes as ifinvoking a blessing, and then quitted the hall.
Those who remained behind, looked at one another as if they hadwitnessed the performance of a miracle. The first light of morningalready dawned, and the dense multitude was seen retreating over themountains, Edmond was standing in deep thought, and the old Lord, afterhaving unlocked his gun, gave it to the servant, to carry away. Thehermit drew near abashed, as if he felt considerably diminished in sizesince the day before. "I leave your house, my Lord," said he, in avoice scarcely audible, and with a heart greatly depressed; "I hadalmost drawn upon your honoured head the malediction attending my ownerrors, but the Lord has averted it." He took the road to Nismes; thehuntsman had already slipped away.
"My Lord Counsellor of Parliament," cried the priest, "you have notseen us to-day in the most favourable light, now that all has passedoff happily; I am a man again; courage revives once more within me, Icould now show you that I am no coward, if a few of these villainswould but return. Receive my thanks, honoured sir, and you too myyoung--but what do I see?" Now, for the first time, he perceivedthat he was politely taking leave with his hat in his hand, and hisnight-cap still on his head;--abashed he pulled it off, and thrust itinto his pocket?--"This is the worst of all," said he, his whole facereddening; "One may thus see to what a sensible man may be reduced inthese troublous times." He again made a hasty bow and retreated.
"Who was this youth?" asked the old Lord. "Probably one of thoseinfamous rebels," replied Edmond in great wrath; "I had renderedperhaps a service to God and the king, if I had sent this ball afterhim!" "Father," said the child, "believe me, he was the angel Gabriel,and brother Edmond will yet be converted, and love him as I do." "Go tobed again, my little one," said her father, "you require rest, poorchild!"
"That was no good night," said Eveline, "so now good morning, father!it grows so beautifully bright!" she retired with the femaleattendants, and Edmond and his father alone remained behind in thesaloon. They were both silent for a long time, at length Edmond tookhis gun, and said, "what do you think of all this, and especially ofthis mysterious fellow, who can demean himself so innocently, and withso much _naivete_?"
"I must not express my thoughts," answered his father, "perhaps theywould sound too romantic. You will leave us again, my son? and probablywill not come back to dinner?"
"You know," replied Edmond, "my passion for hunting and the delight Itake in mountains and forests; nature elevates us above our suffering;she strengthens our feelings; she inspires and gives us that noblevigour, which becomes but too often enervated in society, and in everyday life. This will be a glorious day after the storm; I will forgetall that I have experienced here."
"Let us but bring to nature a pious and purified spirit," said hisfather, "and she becomes to us the holiest of temples, psalms and songsof praise will then re-echo our holy inspirations; but her gloomy rocksand waterfalls, her desolate solitude with black masses of cloudsbrooding above, her wild echo can also excite still more the uneasy,agitated mind, and arouse more powerfully the turbulent spirit, for sheanswers only as she is questioned."
"I will therefore speak to her in my way," replied Edmond, halfpetulantly, "woods and mountains will perhaps understand me better thanmen." He bowed and went through the garden, and descended the vineyardsalready glitter
ing, with the first rays of morning.
"He is going there again to Alais," said his father sighing, "and hiswild enthusiasm for nature gives place to a well-lighted saloon,card-playing, witticisms, and frivolous conversations. Woe to me that Imust thus recognise in him the characteristics of my youth, disfiguredand exaggerated!"