THE PROVOCATIONS 01 MADAME PALISSY. BY THE AT7TH0E OF "MAEY POWELL." FOURTH EDITION, LONDON Virtue Brothers & Co., i, Amen Corner, Paternofter Row. 1863. [The right of Translation is reserved.] &£E^ Tfo Provocations s/* Madame Palissy. CHAPTER I. Y dear Victorine!" said Bernard Palissy to his wife, who was sleeping soundly beside him, with her infant on her arm. "What is it you say, Bernard Palissy?" re- turned his wife, sleepily. " You told me, my love, you were very much in want of a new gown." " Certainly I did," cried Madame Palissy, waking up at once ; " and I mentioned to you that a grass-green camlet n "My dear Victorine," interrupted Bernard, " I don't want to hear anything about grass-green -** r> r\ The Provocations of camlets. "What I was going to observe was, that I don't believe there is a gown of any imaginable colour or fabric in all France in which you will look half so pretty, in my eyes, as in your old one/' " Oh, you tiresome fellow ! " cried she, imme- diately shutting her eyes again ; " did you wake me up to hear that V* "And the reason," pursued Palissy, giving her a little pinch, to prevent her falling fast asleep before he had said what he wanted to say, — " the reason, my beloved Yictorine, that you will appear more lovely and charming to me in that old crimson serge, with, the three rows of black worsted lace round the skirt, than you ever did when it was bran-new, — which was on your wedding-day, if you remember " " To be sure I remember," said Madame Palissy, peevishly. "But why, in the name of all the saints, need I remember it just now ?" " With regard to the saints," observed Palissy, without losing sight of his original subject, "you know, my dear Victorine, that expletive of yours with me goes for nothing, because I regard the whole calendar of them in a very different light from what you do . . . but this by the way. To return to the red petticoat." "I'm sure it wants re-turning," cries poor Victorine, "if I am to wear it any longer, though it has been turned once already, inside out, top side t'other w T ay, hind part before, re-bound, darned, and scoured — I suppose I must turn the sides to the front and back now : and all for what?''' "All for this, my sweet angel/' returned Ber- nard, in his most coaxing tone, which was a very coaxing one indeed — " that I may have the money which, we talked of laying out on your new gown, to spend in something else which I most parti- cularly want." "Particularly want, indeed!" cries Madame Palissy, beginning to feel considerably exacerbated. " If I were to tell you, you tiresome fellow, of all the things I and your two sweet children parti- cularly want, I should keep talking till daybreak." 6 The Provocations of ' f It is precisely that you and our dear infants may have all those things, my beloved Yictorine, and a great many besides, even everything that can attract j r our eye and please your heart, — that I want this small sum of money for an immediate purpose." "What's the immediate purpose?" returned she, very tersely. "Why," said he, colouring all over while he spoke, though it was in the dark, and he got no credit for the sign of grace — "it is, — just to buy — a little borax and palladium." Madame Palissy here thought it worth while to raise herself from her reclining posture for the sake of giving her husband a box on the ear ; not in play, mind you, but a good hard cuff, in down- right desperate earnest: the exertion of which, commoving her whole frame, not unnaturally set the baby crying. And she who bestowed this cuff was not a masculine, middle-aged virago, but a handsome, high-spirited young woman of about four-and-twenty years old. Madame Paliffy. j Bernard rubbed bis ear and burst out laughing. "Come," said be, "that did not burt mucb — not balf so mucb as you meant it should. ITow we're quits ; you forgive me, and I'll forgive vou." "Forgive me, indeed! " cried Yictorine, in the tone of a highly injured woman, as she rocked the crying infant in her arms, " I should like to know what you have to forgive ! It is I — I, poor, unfortunate creature that I am, who am put upon as never was woman put upon before. . . . Was it for this I married you, Bernard Palissy, and left my peaceful home ? " "Your peaceful fiddlestick," replied Bernard, somewhat irreverently ; "just quiet that wailing little animal, my dear Yictorine, that I may bear myself speak, and I'll tell you all about it " "But I don't want to hear all about it," responds Yictorine, beginning to whimper ; " I'd rather go to sleep." " Sleep, sleep ! nothing but sleep ! " sighed Bernard. " Oh my goodness ! when I have so 8 The Provocations of much to say that ought to keep us both waking ! " " "Well, what is it then, you provoking man ? " says Victorine, who was not without her feminine characteristic of curiosity, and began to think that he might have some important secret to reveal, after all. " Calm yourself, and hear me quietly," returned he, " or I will go to sleep immediately, and you shall never more hear a syllable about it." " "Well, dear Bernard, I am calm, I am quiet : do begin — I am all attention." " I see my way to fortune ! " said he, in a deter- mined voice, doubling his fist and giving a thump on the coverlet. " Do you ? " says Victorine — " I wish I did. "Well, what is it ? " "I see my waj T to fame ! " continued Bernard, in the same tone. "I hardly know what fame is," said Madame Palissy, doubtfully ; " is it anything that brings in money ? " Madame Palijfy. " Eventually, almost alwa} 7 s," said Bernard ; " but it's better than money." " Ah ! I doubt that," said Victorine. "Yes, my dear wife, I knew you would — you are, for so excellent a creature, a little, a very little narrow-minded : but there are some things you must take on my authority, because you believe me to be a man of truth and of sense — and this is one of them." ""Well, we'll let it alone, at any rate," re- sponded Victorine ; " because you know, you said you saw your way to fortune — you remember say- ing that ? " "Yes, I remember saying that. Well, now listen to me. Some time ago, you may recollect, I went up to the Chateau, to put a new cheek into the face of St. Martin." "The face of St. Martin!" " Yes — the little Sire Henri had shot an arrow through the painted glass in the great hall : there was onl} T a small lozenge-shaped pane broken, which I was to replace. Well, in the hall was i o The Provocations of my Lady Countess, looking on while some of her attendants unpacked a case containing presents that had been sent to her from her kindred at some Tuscan court . . . rich silks, bracelets, chasings in gold and silver, more rarities than I can particularise; but, above all, my dear Victo- rine, oh, such a cup ! " "Well?" "Well, the excellent beauty of this rare cup, of the ware they call Majolica, exquisitely painted with fruit, flowers, and figures, and turned and enamelled with such perfection, filled me with admiration and amazement. I remained gazing at it where I stood, and entered into contro- versy with my own thoughts, considering that if I could find out how to make enamels, which is an art unknown in France, I might make earthen vessels and other things very prettily, because God has gifted me with some knowledge of drawing. While thus I stood in a trance, my tool fell from my hand. The Countess turned round, and, beholding me in some con- fusion stoop to recover it, spoke to me kindly, and asked me what had startled me so. I replied that I Lad been transfixed and carried out of myself at sight of the cup. Thereupon she bade me draw nearer and behold it more attentively; and, said she, 'This painted ware, good Palissy, is not to be had anywhere, save from Italy. We call it Majolica, because it originally came to us from Majorca, where pilgrims touched on their way from the Holy Land, and brought home plates, which we embedded in our church walls as ornaments/ Then said I, ' It is a pity, Madame, that we have not the secret of making it/ 'Ah, that you never will have,' returns she, 'for they are wondrous jealous of it ; and no marvel, for when w r orks of art become common, they lose half, or nearly all, their value.' ' I am not so sure of that/ said I. She looked at me in surprise, as though apprehending somewhat of impertinence in the remark ; and coolly set down the cup and cast a kerchief over it, remarking that the cheru- bim painted on it were designed on purpose by 12 The Provocations of Haffaelle of Urbino. So I came away ; and soon afterwards my Lady Countess went to Paris, and very likely took the cup with her ; I have never seen her or it since. But, my dear Yictorine, the remembrance is ever with me ! I see the cup in my dreams. . " " How stupid ! " exclaimed his wife. " Not stupid at all," said Bernard ; " I only wish I could find out in my dreams the secret of its manufacture — " " Aye, that indeed would be dreaming to some purpose," said Victorine. " — Which I am constantly pondering over when I am awake," pursued Palissy ; "though I am such a stupid blockhead, and so ignorant of the commonest applications of science to the art of pottery, that I make little progress." " You will never find it out, then," said Vic- torine, impatiently. " Why not ? " said Bernard. " Somebody must have found it out, you know; and why should not I repeat the discovery ? There's the thing ; here's the man ; and every unsuccessful attempt I make brings me so much nearer to it ; for there^s an attempt, you know, which I need not try again. I register all my failures." "So this is what keeps you all day in the wood ! " cried Yictorine. " What else should it be ? " returned her husband. " Don't I always come home begrimed with smoke, and scorched, and dirty, and thirsty ? Ah ! if I can but find it out at last, all my pains, all my labour, will be repaid ! And we shall grow so rich, my Yictorine ! so rich ! You shall have your pocketful of money ! " "But meanwhile, I have not a single Hard, no, not enough to buy a yellow taper for St. Anne ; and I owe for flour, and firewood, — and you carry off all my faggots." " Yes, my dearest, to be repaid in gold some day. There are certain things which I must have for my experiments, and, among others, certain drugs from the chemist's, where I can get no credit ; and it is for that, my sweet Yictorine, 14 The Provocations of that I need the small sum which you proposed spending on a new gown." " And when do you suppose your discovery will be made ? " said she, reluctantly. "Any day. It is impossible to say. Perhaps to-morrow. Very likely, indeed, in the course of six weeks, or six months." "And how will you reward me," continued she, relenting more and more, " if I give up my gown?" " I will call you my darling dear," said Palissy. Now, though to the general reader this will not appear a reward commensurate with the sacrifice poor Yictorine was meditating, yet the phrase being one of endearment which he never used except upon very rare occasions, when he and his wife were on supremely good terms with one another, its association with certain passages in the little story of her heart went so far with Madame Palissy on the present occasion, that it completed the victory her husband had already nearly won ; wherefore, in a voice as pleasant as his own, she said — " Oh, very well ! I suppose you must have your own way/' — and fell asleep with a smile on her lips. The next morning, while "Yictorine was pre- paring the breakfast, which consisted of milk porridge and a thin sort of lard cake, mightily relished by the peasants of the South of France, and called by them galetie, her spouse was sitting in the open air, on a stone before the door, which was, in fact, the fragment of a noble Roman column. He was about thirty- two years of age, but had, up to this time, such a young look with him, that he did not appear above twenty-eight. He was of middle height, well and compactly made, athletic and yet slender, with rather small hands and feet. His complexion was clear brown, with a healthy colour ; his teeth, small, even, and white as pearls; the expression of his mouth and eyes peculiarly sweet ; his nose well cut, with small nostrils ; his face pear-shaped ; his hair crisp, curly, and of a dark ripe- chestnut colour approaching to black. 1 6 The Provocations of This handsome fellow sat on the stone, nursing his leg across his knee, and plunged in a profound muse, utterly regardless of his wife's continual entreaties that he would come in and eat his breakfast. In a pet, she at last began to eat hers by herself, swallowing it in large gulps, which were very unlikely to let it do her any good, but, on the contrary, would produce indigestion, which, again, would re-act on her temper. Over against her, on a little mite of a stool, sat a little mite of a boy, her eldest-born, about eighteen months old, who was getting through his portion of porridge, which was in a little ill-baked pipkin : making himself in a very terrible mess during the process, and keeping up a running fire of small talk which, in his baby dialect, it would have been very diffi- cult to comprehend at any time, and which his mother was not at all in the humour to take the trouble of translating just now. She had smiled, that morning, at the reflection of her own visage in a little cracked looking-glass, as she stowed away her abundant glossy black Madame Palijjy. l 7 hair under a stiff-starched cap with long pendant barbes or fillets, which, in spite of frequent repairs, was as white as snow ; and remembering, as women will remember, the complimentary things said to her over night, about looking as charming in an old gown as any other woman could in a new one, et cetera, it had occurred to her to let the lappets fall becomingly on each side of her sun-burnt rosy face, instead of economically pinning them together at the top of her head ; and she thought within herself, " Well, I am in tolerable looks this morning ; I should not be surprised if Bernard, dear fellow, tells me this cap becomes me." But not a syllable of the sort had Bernard said, nor even as yet paid her the smallest attention ; the effect of which was to make her feel rather surly, and consider herself aggrieved, after the sacrifice of the new gown. And she began to turn in her mind with great dissatisfaction, how she could once more do up the old one ; and with a sigh akin to despair, felt that, do what she would, she could not this time B 1 8 The Provocations of make it look as good as new. Then, glancing towards Bernard as he sat on the stone, she noticed, with a little bitterness, how spruce and comely he had made himself, with the little bit of the white shirt she had ironed peeping above his bright brown suit, that was so tightly compressed about the waist with his red sash of Chollet cotton : and she thought within herself, " Ah, he values appearances as much as anybody, though he pretends not to do so when it suits his purpose, /may go shabby, poor married woman that I am, while lie spruces himself up as smart as a bridegroom V 9 ISTow, though Bernard's conduct was indefen- sible enough in some respects, yet in this parti- cular poor Yictorine did him injustice, for he really did not care how he looked, nor even think about the matter : a certain cleanliness and neat- ness had been born with him, which made him become whatever he had on, even though, as in the present instance, it was an old suit he had picked up in the Pyrenees, of the coarsest home- spun. He, little guessing the invidious remarks that were being made on his personal appearance, was immersed in his self- satisfying cogitations, when he was suddenly startled by Madame Palissy's accosting him in a shrill tone, very different from the bland accents she had used in the night, with — " Will you have your breakfast, or no, I say ?" " Certainly I will," replied he, cheerfully ac- cepting the porringer which she thrust in his hand. " Then you may as well eat it here, since you have sat here so long," returned she, roughly, "and then I can clean up the place a bit, and wash Paul, who has daubed himself all over. I have eaten my breakfast an hour ago." Then, flouncing back into the kitchen, she commenced her operations in no very agreeable, humour, leaving Bernard to eat his galette in whatever way he liked ; till all at once she was suddenly recalled to his side by the sound of a horrid crash of broken pottery. b2 CHAPTER II. "W HAT are you about now?" cried Yictorine, very tempestuous^. "No harm done," said he, j)icking up the fragments, and storing them up in his hand- kerchief. "No harm done? when you have broken the porringer ! " " My dear, I wanted to break it." "What for?" " To try some experiments with the pieces. All right." " Well, it seems to me all wrong," said she, more quietly ; " I can't understand it." Madame Palijfy. 21 "Ko, dear Tictorine, that's tlie very thing; you can't understand it ; you must not expect to understand it ; there is no need for you to understand it ; but, believe me, dear, all's right, nevertheless. . . Go, wash Paul's face, love; that's your province ; to break potsherds is mine." And he kissed her with such an air of good- natured superiority, and walked off with his potsherds in such state, that she knew not what to make of him, nor whether to be mollified or vexed. Just at this moment, little Paul, having smeared his face, ad nauseam, and swallowed all he wanted of his milk porridge, toddled out to the door with his little pipkin, and, with as much of his father's gesture as he could imitate, dashed it to the ground ; the vehement action bringing him immediately down in a sitting position, from which he took no pains to recover himself, but set up a fit of baby laughing and crowing, as if he were conscious of having hit it off exactly. Yictorine, amused and provoked, snatched the little rogue up in her arms, shook him, and then 22 T/ie Provocations of smothered hiin with kisses, as she carried him into the house. Meantime, Bernard, walking briskly away from his cottage, which was in the suburbs, and had a great chestnut-tree before it, entered the old Roman town of Saintes; and directing his steps to a certain narrow street in the Faubourg S te - Eutrope, having a high convent-wall on one side and a row of mean houses on the other, he stopped at a chemist's shop, which was very unlike what chemist's shops are now ; having, in place of a glass window full of gay bottles, a paltry canvas screen over what was little better than a modern cobbler's stall. Underneath the bulkhead of this establishment, dozed an inferior satellite, who, upon Palissy's arousing him, went in quest of his master, a little dull-eyed old man, who pre- sently appeared from an inner chamber, looking dazed at the bright daylight. " And what may you want, Master Bernard?" said he, somewhat superciliously. Bernard named the names of sundry drugs, Madame Palijfy. 23 which made the old man rub his eyes hard, as if to stare at him the better. "What art after?" said he. "The great secret ?" "Aye, aye," said Palissy, "but not the great secret you mean ; — never mind what it is." "Some of these drugs I have not," said the chemist, doubtfully ; " others, though I have, I know not that I am minded to part withal. . . . Come, tell us your matter. You need not be afraid of me. ... Is it anything about gold ?" "I hope it may prove so in the end," said Bernard, " but I am a great way from it yet." " So are most, so are most," said the old man, rapidly. "Hast got a crucible?" " Oh no ! but I mean to have a furnace." "Many a potter has that, who makes pipkins," said the chemist, contemptuously ; " you will want great heat — " " Indeed I shall, my master ; and what is worse, I know not how to get it — firewood is dear in Saintes." 24 The Provocations of "Firewood? bah!" exclaimed the chemist. " Come in here, and Til show you a proper heat." Palissy stepped after him into a little chamber at the back of the premises, where the old man's laboratory was. Here there were retorts, cru- cibles, and a vast apparatus, the names and uses of which were alike unknown to Palissy, together with a little furnace glowing with intense heat. "Ah, I should like such a furnace as that!" cried he, with admiration ; " but a poor man like me cannot meet the expense." " A poor man ? Verily no," rejoined the chemist, disdainfully ; " many a rich man's gold, I can tell you, has flown up the chimney, playing this game ... all for want of being on the right scent." "And are you on the right scent?" inquired Palissy. "What know I?" said the chemist, spreading forth his hands deprecatingly ; "I know a thing or so ... I have the Schahmajm, as the Pabbis call it — the general creation ; but all, all is Madame Paliffy. 25 mystery. I may be 011 the eve of some notable discovery." "So may I," said Palissy; "and I pray yon, Maitre Joseph, let me have those same drugs." " You know not what you ask, you silly fellow/' returned Maitre Joseph. "See here, here is one of them;" and unlocking a casket, he took therefrom a small square bottle containing a black powder; "this is sold for its weight in gold." " However, let me have as much of it as will lie on my little finger nail," persisted Bernard ; "the rarer it is, the less I must have, and the more care I must take of it; but, at all events, I will have a little." " You are an extravagant fellow, to be a glazier and land-surveyor," said Maitre Joseph; "you must drive a better trade than we wot of, I'm thinking, to be able to amuse your leisure with such toys as this." And scrupulously delivering him, from the palm of his hand, no more than he had asked for, 26 The Provocations of he shook the remainder carelessly back into the bottle, scattering on the table more in waste than he had sold at an exorbitant rate. "Hold, hold I" cried Bernard, brushing together what was spilt, and putting it into the chemist's hand. " Thou'rt a worthy fellow," said Maitre Joseph, smiling; "we will e'en add this to what thou hast already — and I don't believe you have enough altogether for any satisfactory experi- ment." "None of my experiments are satisfactory/ ' said Bernard. "Then why do you persist?" said Maitre Joseph. " Why do you ?" said Palissy : on which they both laughed. "I think," said Bernard, waxing bolder, "you might teach me a few things if you would ... just to put a poor fellow in the right way." But the chemist immediately began to with- draw from the subject, and from the laboratory Mada??ie Paliffy. 27 also ; and seemed repenting of having been too confidential already. "I have no secrets to communicate," replied he ; "I know but my trade — you have merely seen my apparatus for distilling simples and pre- paring medical drugs. As for any great arcanum, I doubt if there be any : at all events, I'm too poor to try." And weighing out with jealous exactness the few things Bernard wanted, which he confessed to possessing, he took the full price for them, and seemed glad to see him depart. In about half-an-hour, Madame Palissy heard a tremendous noise going on in her back kitchen, which was a lean-to built against the house, and was little more than a scullery with a chimney in it. " "Why, Bernard," cried she, looking in on him, " I thought you were off to your surveying, or else to your furnace in the wood. What are you about ?" " i>Iy surveying is finished, more's the pity," 28 The Provocations of said Bernard, " and my furnace in the wood is so far off that I spend half my time going and coming ; so I am trying to make a furnace here." "Why, goodness gracious me!" cried Madame Palissy, "was there ever on earth such a mess as you have been making ! And with all my washing and starching about ! " "My dear, I had just been thinking what a mess you had been making, and wishing all these little cobwebs of things at Jericho, or behind the kitchen fire, but did not like to mention it. As you have done so, however, just take them away, will you ? for they are terribly in m} r way." " Was there ever anything like it ! " cried she, sweeping up her fine linen in dudgeon, and carry- ing it away with her. "What is this I have upset now ? Some of your rubbish, I'm afraid." "Plague take you!" cried Palissy, kindling into sudden rage, and turning as red as fire. "You wretched girl, what have you done ?" "Why, what have I done?" said Madame Palissy, looking frightened. He said not a word, but covered his eyes with his hands, and actually shed tears. There was a row of little potsherds on a bench, on every one of which was sprinkled a little powder, black, white, brown, or grey. One of these had been caught by the fine things Madame Palissy had been carrying away, and the potsherd had been upset, and the powder spilt. " Well, I am truly very sorry," said she, in a softened tone, setting down her washing on a dusty chair, and going up to him; "it was entirely accidental." " I know it, my best love ; I know it." "What was it, Palissy?" " A drug, dearest, worth its weight in gold, and I can get no more. I have no money. Oh me, oh me ! " " Well, but, Palissy, let us see if we cannot scrape it up." And down upon their knees they both were in a moment, and knocked their heads together so smartly that the fire flashed from their eyes. 30 The Provocations of This set them both laughing; and then, with per- fect unanimity, they began scraping the dust off the earthen floor with their nails, till they obtained a very composite kind of mixture, which Palissy, though in despair, replaced on the tile, and said he would bake. " And now, my dear good Vietorine," said he, " to whom I am truly obliged for the trouble you have just taken for me, and sincerely sorry I spoke to you so roughly just now, — only, you see, I had very great provocation, — all I now ask is undis- turbed possession of this little kitchen while my experiments are going on ; and, if you have it to spare, a little, a very little more firewood. " And Madame Palissy felt his case to be such a hard one, and herself to have been such a despe- rate domestic sinner, that she was only too glad to accept of a pacification on these terms, and cleared away her female litter with amiable alacrity ; after which she returned with both her arms clasped round an enormous bundle of firewood, though she had reserved herself hardly enough to boil the chestnuts for dinner, and, what was worse, had no money to buy more. Owino- to the badness of the fire, the chestnuts were not sufficiently boiled till the workmen in the neighbouring fields were making the tinta- marre, which recalled them to labour, by ham- mering on their implements with a stone. Too late for dinner is often a married man's misde- meanour ; on this occasion the dinner was too late for the master of the house, but lie did not seem to mind it : on the contrary, his head was evidently in the furnace all the while. He had scorched his eyes almost out of his head, and there was a smut on one side of his nose which made him look comical ; yet he had washed his hands, as every respectable man will do before he says grace, though it be but over an egg and butter. On this occasion there was an egg, a new-laid one too, for Bernard, to atone for the tardy cooking of the chestnuts. He observed it was not boiled enough : Yictorine said it must be boiled enough, for it had boiled all the while she 32 The Provocations of said a Paternoster, and everybody knew that was the rio-ht time. Bernard doubted whether it were not an irreverent application of a Pater- noster, to make it decide the boiling of an egg : his wife said she had never heard anybody object to it before ; he was more nice than wise. And then she said, "Do let me wipe that smut off your nose, Bernard ; I can't bear to look at you," and applied the corner of her carnation-coloured apron to it ; and then said, " There, now you look like a respectable man ; " and he replied that he was afraid her apron was none the better for it ; and she said, " Oh ! this will wash ; " and he said he hoped it would wash and wear for ever, like the famous apron of the pretty wool-spinner, Sainte Lucence, he liked the colour so much ; and she said, " Why, I thought you did not believe in the saints. I do believe you like old things better than new ; " and he said, not every- body's old things, but her old things perhaps he might, for they always looked new ; and he had so many pleasant associations with them : and as Mada?ne Paliffy. 33 for believing in the saints, lie believed most or all of them had lived, though not that they had performed all the miracles ascribed to them ; as, for example, that Lucence could carry red-hot coals in her apron -without burning it. Yictorine said, " Oh, you know she only did so once ; and that was by way of ordeal. She could not do so always." He said, "Xo, I believe not." Then she poured out a very small cup of wine, and drank half of it, and he drank the other half; and so their frugal meal ended, and he went back to his furnace, and she proceeded to clear the table. Then she took out her old crimson petticoat (it was a coffee-coloured one she had on), and, with many sighs, began to consider how 7 she could make a rifacciamento of it. There were thin places darned down that would burst out again, and every one of the plaits had a threadbare line down it nearly to the hem, and the hem was frayed, and had been turned in so often that if it were renewed again, the petticoat would be too short. The busk of her boddice had worn an c 34 ^he Provocations of absolute hole in the front ; she must darn it down on a piece of the same stuff: she had a little scrap of the original, quite new, that she had put away, intending always to treasure it up. However, that must be used now; so she rum- maged it out of a bundle of fragments that usually was hidden in an old highly polished cherry-wood armoire, well stored with homespun linen : and when the new piece was laid upon the old, oh ! how miserable, how horrible the shocking old petticoat looked ! She was ready to cry ; but then Bernard's golden promises came into her head, and she remembered that she was to have her pocket full of money " some of these days/' and she thought, " Oh, I can rub on anyhow, meantime." So she sat to her patch- ing with right good will, and was so earnest over it that she was surprised to hear vesper ringing; and turning about, perceived to her dismay that the fire was out. Now, Bernard and Victorine generally supped on rye-bread, black and a little moist, with a cup of the thin, sour beverage made of the last squeezing of the grapes when the real wine has been already extracted from them; but this night, as the weather was cold, she had intended to warm up a little soup chiefly made of lentiles. It occurred to her that since she had no sticks left to rekindle the fire, her little brass saucepan might simmer on Bernard's furnace ; so she went with it in her hand to the door, and was just going in, when he bawled out — " Oh, don't open the door and let in the draught, for patience' sake!" So she closed it again, vexed to the heart, and thought if any one needed patience, it was she rather than he. Then she rather crossly washed the children in cold water, and rubbed them roughly, which made them cry, and the rest of the evening was spent in quieting them. She had just got them to sleep, and was thinking she would go to bed herself, since she had thrice summoned Bernard to supper, without his attending to her, when some one tapped at the c2 36 The Provocations of house door and lifted the latch ; and in came her nearest neighbour, Marguerite Pierrot, the thrifty, industrious, economical wife of a small farmer, who held the same farm his forefathers had held before him for several generations. " Good evening, Victorine," said she; "here am I, at this untimely hour, come begging for a pinch of salt : for though we live so near the salt marshes, yet it will happen that careless housekeepers sometimes run short, and this is my case just now." " I am glad to be able to accommodate you," said Yictorine, with alacrity. " What a cold night it is I" "And you have let your fire out \" cried Mar- guerite, laughing; "one would have supposed you were too warm." "Because I happen to be out of faggots, just as you are out of salt. Bernard, extravagant man, has been burning the last, for some megrim of his." "Then my little Antoine shall run down to Madame Palijfy. 37 you with another, the minute I get home/' said Marguerite. " Xo thanks! Don't say a word. What ! should not neighbours help one another ? A lonely hearth with no fire is cold comfort ; but I remember when I and my six sisters were girls, we loved winter better than any season of the year; because, look you, we kept a rousing fire at the end of our great stable, and shut ourselves in, and kept one another warm, spinning tow and flax, and telling stories without end, of weir- wolves, witches, goblins, and fairies. The young men thought none the worse of us for having a little money among us ; and used to sit over against us, carving cherry-wood, and mending their harness ; and woe to her who dropped her distaff, for a kiss was the forfeit to whoever picked it up. My father had a dairy-farm, and we and the cows were all under the same roof, nor were we nice enough to mind it, for their breath was sweet and wholesome." "I have often thought you owed your fresh colour to that," said Yictorine. 38 The Provocations of "Who can tell?" said Marguerite. "This I know, that we were sorry when spring came and the cows went up the hills, for our lovers went with them. Some of them were cupboard-lovers, I think, and liked us for our soft cheeses, and curds, and cream. However, we all married well, and had a white hen carried before us, except Annette, who was lame. Poor Annette was much afflicted as a child. At three months old she turned black in the face, and grew rigid, with her mouth and eyes wide open. My mother, naturally thinking the fairies had changed her (for they swarm in those parts), went to the curate, who, being a mild man, was not for pro- ceeding to any extremity, but bade her just strip the child and lay it before the market cross, and whip it as long as she could stand over it. The fairies, getting an inkling of this (for I believe they can hear the grass grow), changed the babies back again in her absence ; so when she returned, she found Annette laid straight in her cradle, asleep like an angel. However, to make all safe Madame Palijfy. 39 for the future, she dedicated her to the Virgin. But here I keep chattering, while you are shiver- ing with cold ! Good night, good night ! I shall not return along the river, for fear of the fairy- laundress. I know those that have known them that have helped her to wring pearls and sapphires from her linen, but they all turned to dewdrops at day -dawn ; and if you show the least distrust or reluctance, she twists your arm the wrong way, and breaks it before you can say ' Conserva me: " And, laughing, she ran off through the dark, leaving Yictorine quite restored and enlivened by this little exchange of cheerful words and good offices. Tapping at her husband's door without opening it, Madame Palissy cried in her plea- santest voice, " Bernard, dear Bernard ! won't you come to supper ?" "Directly, my life!" responded he. And out he came, as dirty as a charcoal-burner. " Why, how dark it is ! " said he. " Because it is so late," said Yictorine. 40 Madame Paliffy. " Yesper rang an hour ago. It is very cold too — at least, I am very cold/' "Are you? ; ' cried he, raising his scorched face to look at her with surprise — " Why, I am as warm as a toast ! " CHAPTER III. AT EXT morning, Bernard brushed and put -^ 1 away his Pyrenean suit of coffee-brown, and descended to breakfast in an old and exceedingly shabby red woollen blouse, which entirely concealed his neat figure. He observed that his head had made a very black mark on the white pillow during the night, from whence he conjectured his hair to be very smoky; wherefore, he gave it a complete cold bath in the tub generally used for washing the children, and then, having rubbed it till it curled all over like a negro's, he finished by tying his head up in a laro-e vellow handkerchief, which indeed was an excellent preservative of his hair, but by no means 42 The Provocations of made his beauty too alluring. Having thus com- fortably established himself, he took possession of the larger half of Marguerite's faggot, and shut himself up in the back kitchen, supremely happy, to study the grand arcanum. "I have now," said he to himself, - ZZS3: -G> 23ZT5 -- ?::q: -&- m Chan-tez de Dieu le re - nom, Vous ser -vi-teurs 3§£ ¥ -&- r r~<3~ 231) -- ^ -] du Sei-gneur! Ve-nez pour ltd faire hon-neur, Vous qui a-vez eu ce don. D'etre ha - bi - tans ZZZL ■--&- ~^=ZZL -&- 7221 - au mi - lieu Des par - vis de notre Dieu. 1 -s>- -©— W 23 _ 33==^; T2T.-OT^l Chan - tez de Dieu le re - nom M- ¥ :zz: -&- 22= 7T -- 22. Vous ser - vi - teurs du Sei - gneur! Directly Bernard paused in his singing, the little faint voice whispered, "Again! again!" and, thus lulling him, he gradually sang him to sleep. Poor Yictorine, seeing the child sinking into rest, and having no time for sentiment, took the opportunity of bestirring herself about some needful household avocations, grateful in her heart to Paiissv for relieving her awhile from her post. Thereafter, he relieved her of it almost altogether — constantly having the child in his arms and singing his Huguenot hymn. The poor little fellow's sickness was a distressing as well as mvsterious one to those whose strong love made them partakers in his sufferings. Palissy racked his brain to think where the evil lay — what could be the remedy. At length the worn little spirit fled from its wasted taber- nacle ; he died in his father's arms, and the faithful, tearful Bernard, tenderly replacing him in his little crib, murmured, "Yes, dear child, though worms may destroy that body, yet in thy flesh shalt thou see God ! " — and then silently held out his arms to his wife, who threw herself weeping on his bosom. The neighbours were very kind to them in their distress. When the funeral was over, Ber- nard's spirits gave way terribly. He sat listlessly in the house, in fruitless, purposeless reverie. Yictorine's own heart was ready to burst, but she could not bear to see him thus. She laid her hand kindly on his shoulder and said, " Now go to thy pounding and grinding — it will do thee good." And he smiled at her through his tears, and went. For her part, feeling her sins called to mind more than usual by the death of her first-born, she took her rosary in her hand, and went to a " Yia Crucis" in the old cathedral— beating her poor aching breast at every station, and watering the cold marble with her tears. CHAPTER VI. WHEN Master Philibert heard of Bernard's loss, he resolved to pay him a visit of consolation. This worthy man had already brought himself into some trouble for preaching the reformed doctrine. Not being endowed with the courage of a St. Paul, he had, when the suspicions of Collardeau, the fiscal attorney, were aroused, tem- porised a little, and dissembled his faith ; which Ion? afterwards afflicted him with much remorse of conscience. However, he had escaped that time, and prudently retired to Geneva, the head- 94 *£he Provocations of quarters of the French reformers, where he acquired a great increase of earnestness, we are told, and enlarged both his faith and doctrine. Wishing to repair his fault on the spot where it had been committed, he returned to the neigh- bourhood of Saintes, preaching as he journeyed, and distributing, by his agents, Bibles and re- formed tracts which he had himself Drinted at Geneva. And though a man incapable of sup- porting much pedestrian exercise, he would on no pretence accept the loan of a horse, which was frequently offered him, but preferred walking through the country with no other equipage than a simple staff in his hand. This was the good man who now raised the latch of the door of the back kitchen, where Bernard was pounding away at his minerals. " So you have lost your little child, my poor fellow," said he, when their first greeting was over. " I heard of it at Allevert, where I have been preaching to many people. Well ! you will meet him again in a world where all tears are wiped away : where every good and innocent affection, and even taste shall have its appropriate exercise. There we shall be filled with such a sense of God's presence and perfections as shall, of itself, be supreme bliss ! There we shall know and love many of our dear ones again, — all of them whom we have loved in Christ, — and form new and profitable friendships, and renew old ones. There we shall doubtless have ways and means of exercising benevolence, and intelligence, and taste, and genius, and fancy, and ingenuity. Our glorious mansions may still be suscep- tible of additional embellishments, our heavenly gardens may still receive cultivation; only, there will be no blights, no mildews, no bad seasons. Who knows but we may be permitted to exercise hospitality to newly-arrived visitants from remote planets ? and to show them all the marvels of our portion of heaven ? Music there will certainly be cultivated to the glory of God ; and why not poetry and painting ? Why should any pursuit be shut out that is capable of g6 The Provocations of showing forth' his praise ? There will be time for everything according to the characteristic tastes implanted in each. Books, perhaps, there may be, books written by angels ! and unlocking mysteries we have panted to penetrate — including the white enamel ! Philosophy and science will then and there reveal more and more of the divine economy. Society and solitude will have their several seasons ; and the Lamb will be glorified in all ! Oh, if this life were but one entire pang, heaven would be cheaply bought by it!" "I sometimes think this life is little more than a succession of pangs, of one sort or another," said Bernard. " Pray to God, my friend ! Pray." " I do, Master Philibert ; at my grinding, on my bed, on the road. Only so little seems to come of it. The earth is iron to me, the heaven brass." "Out of this dark cloud, however," said Master Philibert, "may issue a voice saying, ' Thou art my beloved son ! ' No bereavement is so calamitous but that some sweetness or savour may be drawn out of it ; and lie who makes every trial of his life a reason of presenting a suitable and believing appeal to Grod, will soon find he has taken the very best means not only of praying with success, but of living as he prays. God seems just now to say to you, f I have taken away the sweetest flower of your home, but yet I still leave you the means of being useful, of being beloved, of drawing nearer to others and to me, and of learning each day some new mystery of your own heart and of my wondrous providence.' Why, you are a lucky fellow, after all, Bernard, to be able to occupy yourself at this very time with all this pounding and grinding, which I should call very hard work ! It has been said that a man should always have some particular pursuit which may be ever in his own power, and to which he can gladly turn in his hours of recreation. How much more so in his hours of sadness ! You are a fortunate fellow, to G 98 The Provocations of have something mechanical to do that fills and calms the mind." Then Master Philibert changed the subject, and told Bernard how religious persecution was waxing hotter and hotter in various parts of France ; and he counted over to him the names of a great many who had already been burned alive for their opinions by the Roman Catholics : and he told him how a poor peasant of the forest of Lyori, seeing some prisoners in a cart on their way to execution, had questioned them on the cause of their sentence, and learning it was for such and such opinions, had said, "Let me also enter the cart and go along with you, for I hold precisely the same faith that you do." " And although," pursued Master Philibert, " we have, through the mercy of God, a grand vicar who is secretly favourable to the reformed opinions, and though our bishop is lukewarm and non-resident, yet Collardeau is a man of perverse and evil life, who halts at nothing Madame Paliffy. 99 that may win him money and notoriety, and he has notified to the bishop that Saintes is swarming with heretics; and the bishop, unable to wink at the fact any longer, has given this malicious fiscal attorney full charge and com- mission to extirpate them. Therefore look to it, my friend, for the trial by fire is coming ! And he that endureth unto the end shall be saved — not from the stake and the faggot, but from everlasting burnings. Brother Robin has been already arrested in Oleron, and brother Xicole in Allevert ; and now they are hunting for the good brother who keeps a school and preaches at Gimosac. My turn may come next. Meanwhile I preach and baptize, to-day and to-morrow." After Master Philibert had left him, Palissy's busy mind remained occupied with the stirring subject he had opened upon, and carried quite out of itself by cogitations on the faith and fate of the faithful brethren who had been ap- prehended. He was aroused from his reverie g2 ioo The Provocations of by Victorine opening the door, and eagerly saying— " They are coming, Bernard ! They are bring- ing them this way, on their road to the prison ! Each heretic bridled like a horse or an ass, with a great iron apple inside his mouth for a gag ! Collardeau on his white horse, riding alongside of them. Ah, wretched men ! they have gone astray from the only true faith ; but yet Collardeau need not carry it towards them so cruelly. Sure, is not burning alive sufficient ? " The next day, Andre, the poor day-labourer whom Bernard had converted into a missionary, hastily looked in on him. " They are out after Master Philibert/' cried he, hastily. {i They are hunting him down, with horses, gendarmes, cooks, and sutlers ! He, the poor unarmed man, with only his staff in his hand ! I fear he will not escape them, the blood- hound's ! " Nor did he. The next day Palissy saw him brought into the town, ironed like a common Madame Palijfy. 101 malefactor, to be cast into the criminals' prison. Thev exchanged a look: Palissy's was full of encouragement; Philibert's was full of joy. The stain of his temporising was wiped off. Palissy hurried home, threw off his dirty blouse, washed, and dressed himself in his hair-brown Sunday suit ; and took down his large, round, flapped felt hat, with its blue ribbon. " "Where can you be going, Bernard, so smart ?" said his wife. "To every magistrate in Saintes," replied he, " to remonstrate against Collardeau's treatment of Master Philibert." "Ah, my dear husband, you will only get your- self into trouble, and do Master Philibert no good. Think what is to become of me and the babes, if you are cast into prison." " I dare not think of that," said Bernard, and went forth. " Could you bear to be burnt ? n cried Yictorine, after him. " None of us can tell that till we are tried," 102 The Provocations of replied lie ; " I can bear to testify against what I consider injustice, at the risk of whatever punish- ment God may permit them to inflict upon me." And he pursued his way. Bernard visited six of the chief magistrates of Saintes, and all in vain, save to show his own fearlessness in the cause of a friend and of truth. " I am full of wonder," said he to the last of them, "that men should dare to sit in judgment on one whom they ought rather to regard as a prophet or an angel of God. For many years have I known this Master Phiiibert ; and so holy has been his life, that it seems to me as if other men were devils in comparison with him." " Hush, hush, my good man ! " said the magis- trate, smiling, " you must not say these things to me, nor in my hearing, or, you know, I must take notice of them. Go your ways, Bernard, go your ways, to your pottery, ha, ha ! to your tiles and your potsherds — ha, ha, ha ! the best joke I have heard for a long time ! I pity you, my poor fellow ; you're a harmless visionary, and have lost a nice little boy lately, I understand. I don't want to hurt you : but stick to your own affairs, man ; to your potsherds — ha, ha, ha ! For your old friend, be content ; we are dealing as gently with him as we may ; and have allowed him to table with the gaoler while he is in prison." With this, Bernard was obliged to content himself for the present. So he went home, and literally fulfilled the magistrate's ironical recom- mendation, by busying himself with his pot- sherds. He had now nearly prepared a new batch for the baking. When they were ready he sent them to the glass-house by poor Andre, who was glad to sacrifice a little of the time allowed him for his noontide meal, by performing this trifling service for him who had made him par- taker of the bread of life. When Palissy went to see his potsherds drawn, he perceived, oh joy ! that some of his com- pounds had yielded to the intense heat, and had 104 The Provocations of begun to melt. This was his first glimmer of success : to such a sanguine, persevering being it was enough. He went home all smiles. "What makes you look so blithe, Palissy ? " said Victorine, who was knitting a scarlet stocking at the door. " My dearest Victorine ! some of my compounds have melted at last ! " "Oh, what joy!" exclaimed she, clasping her hands. " Then you have found the white enamel ! " " Hush, dear Yictorine, not so fast ! Found the white enamel ? Alas, no ! but I hope I am in the way to find it at last." "That is what you have said all along," said she, pouting. " Hope ! hope ! I am tired of the word. Your children cannot live on hope." — For there were two little children yet spared, who called him father. He had lost an unbaptized infant already, besides little Paul. "Nor do I ask you, my dearest," replied he, pouring into her lap a handful of small coin he had obtained for some of his drawings, — " there is somethiDg for the poUau-feu, Victorine, and now let me pursue my glimmer of hope in peace." From that time, his experiments became every- thing to him ; his wife and family, for the nonce, only of secondary consideration. His whole time, day and evening, was consumed in preparing new compounds, or going and coming between his cottage and the glass-house. People began to think him mad. How Victorine lived meanwhile, let many a woman tell whose husband brings home no wages. Of course, miserably. Of course, her health, spirits, and temper suffered. Xothing can compensate to an affectionate wife for the loss of her husband's company in the evening, — not even the discovery of white enamel. It is, generally speaking, the only pleasure she is looking forward to, during the toil of the day; and, if she be accustomed to welcome him home with smiling looks to a neat supper and clean- io6 The Provocations of swept hearth, he generally looks forward to it too. In the early days of this new grievance (for it lasted two years), Madame Palissy was sitting by her solitary fire, busied, with pinched looks and frowning brow, in repairing some of her old habiliments, when a tap at the door again an- nounced the entrance of her neighbour, Marguerite Pierrot. " Have you heard the news, Victorine ? " ex- claimed she. " Brother Robin has escaped ! " " I hear nothing," returned Victorine. " How should he escape, pray, from the prison of the bishop's own palacey with all those fierce mastiffs in the courtyard ? So heavily ironed, too, as he was ! " " Aye ! but a friend gave him a file, to file away his irons," said Marguerite, " and he saved his crusts of bread for the mastiffs ; and the gaoler fell asleej), and so . . " " Hold ! " cries Madame Palissy, " we don't hear such a stirring tale as this every day. Wait a minute, and I'll call Bernard to hear it too; 'twill be an excuse for getting him out of his den, where he's shut up, I lament to say, by night as well as by day, now . . ." " Shouldn't be, if he were my husband, though," sa}'s Marguerite, shortly. , " Why, how would you prevent it ?" said Victorine. " Oh, if one way wouldn't do, I'd try another . . I'd blow up the whole concern, like a wasp's nest." ""With him in it?" said Yictorine ; "ah no, Marguerite ! I love him too well for that, after all, tiresome fellow that he is! However, he must and shall come out to hear about Brother Eobin, seeing that it is an affair of his more than mine, belonging as he does to those heretics. 'Tis a shame and a sorrow; and yet the priests may say what they like, I'll never denounce him." f ' Denounce him ? No, to be sure not I " said Marguerite ; " not though he were an unbelieving Challonais. Jean Pierrot may sing io8 The Provocations of his Huguenot hymns till doomsday before I'll denounce him. Things are come to a pretty pass, indeed, when a wife is expected to give up her own husband to the stake ! They may cry, ' Au renard !' and find for themselves which way the fox went. But, Victorine, where id Bernard ? Is he within, do you think ? I cannot stay long." " Oh, he's within, safe enough,' 5 said Vic- torine, commencing an assault and battery on his door. " You see, the provoking fellow has fixed a bolt inside, to prevent intrusion, as he calls it ; because, he says, the least breath of air blows his powders about ; and sometimes when I call he won't answer." " Intrusion, quotha ! Td intrude him ! " exclaimed Marguerite ; " I should like to hear Jean Pierrot talk of intrusion ! He doesn't hear you, you must call louder than that. Why, the man may be in a fit ! Did you ever try to laugh him out of this non- sense ?" Madame Palifly. 109 " Laugh ! " repeated Yictorine. " It's 110 laughing matter, I can tell you." " Well, I'd try/' said Marguerite. " Let us both raise our voices at once. ISTow then ! Bernard ! here's something you'll like very much to hear." " TV T hat is it?" said he, unbolting the door, and thrusting his head out. Marguerite burst into an immoderate fit of laughter. CHAPTER VII. HAT is the matter P" said Bernard, looking annoyed. " Excuse me, Master Palissy," said Mar- guerite, still laughing violently, " but you do look so very droll, and took me so by sur- prise, — with that comical toque on your head, and with j r our sleeves tucked up above your elbow !" " I thought you had something to say to me," said Bernard, retreating, and about to close the door. "Stay, stay, Bernard \" said his wife. " She Madame Palijfy. 1 1 1 has something to say. Only think ! Brother Eobin has escaped ! " " Ha ! that is indeed good news/' exclaimed he, instantly changing his look and tone. " Stay a minute, I'll be with you directly." And pulling down his shirt sleeves, throwing off his toque, running his fingers through his hair, and slipping on his coat, in three minutes he came forth fit to be seen. " Ah, people can make themselves smart enough sometimes, though not for their own wives !" muttered Yictorine. " "Well, and so — " said Bernard, eagerly, addressing himself to Marguerite. " "Well, and so," resumed Marguerite. " Dear me, where did I leave off? Why, I never began ! " " Come, let's be neighbourly," said Yicto- rine, filling the little wine-cup ; " taste this, Marguerite." " Yours is better wine than ours," said Mar- guerite, as she returned the cup. ii2 The Provocations of " Come Palissy, you and I will drink one another's healths/' said his wife, handing the replenished cup to him. "You first," said he. "Now then! — here's to Brother Eobin's health and freedom, — and success to my white enamel ! " " Hans: the white enamel ! " said Yictorine. "How?" said Palissy: "that would be a curious process. But come, Marguerite." " Well, the story is this," recommenced Mar- guerite. " Brother Bobin was the most pesti- lent heretic of them all. . . ." " The most eminent confessor, you mean," interjected Palissy. " Therefore, for him was reserved the hottest corner of the oven," continued Marguerite. " He lay, heavily ironed, among his companions, in the bishop's prison " " Bishops ought not to have prisons," said Palissy. " Peace, Bernard ! how can you be so rude ?" said Yictorine ; " you put her out." Madame Paiiffy. i ] 3 " A sentry outside the cell," pursued Mar- guerite, u half-a-dozen fierce mastiffs loose in the courtyard,— you might have thought the man safe enough. "' " Safe, and too safe," said Palissy. " However," continued Marguerite, " a friend, it appears, had privately given him a file, on his way to prison. So he filed, and filed, and filed through his chains — his companions bawling their ugly hymns all the while, to deaden the sound. Well, Brother Robin next scrapes a hole in the wall big enough to get through." " He must have been miserably watched," interrupted Palissy. " So I say," returned Marguerite. " But just hear me. The sentry being asleep — " " What a sentry I" cried Bernard. " Do be quiet, now !" said Yictorine. — " Gave the opportunity," continued Mar- guerite, " which the cunning Huguenot availed himself of — " "Why, would not you . ? " said Bernard. H H4 The Provocations of — " Of getting a good number of stones out of the prison wall; but unfortunately, on the out- side were a heap of empty hogsheads, piled one above another, which Brother Robin could not see ; so, in pushing his way through, down came all these hogsheads with a tremendous noise/' " That would waken the sentry," said Yic- torine. "Not it," said Bernard. "He was off as sound as a top, I can tell you beforehand." "It did waken the sentry," said Marguerite, emphatically, " and he came forth and looked about." " Oh, then he had regularly turned in," said Palissy. " But there was nothing to see, — except, indeed, the scattered hogsheads ; nor anything to hear, for Brother Robin lay behind the wall as quiet as a mouse, I promise you; so he con- cluded the hogsheads had tumbled down of themselves." " That was a non sequitur, though, as Master Madame Palijfy. 1 1 5 Philibert would say/' observed Palissy. " I begin to like this sentry ; he's a deep one, rely upon it, — a thorough good Huguenot. " "So he went in, and the other came out," said Marguerite. " Well, you will naturally say, how did he quiet the dogs ? "Why, with crusts of bread he had been saving a long time. So, having stopped their mouths, he passed through a door which happened to be open, into the garden — " '•' Odd ! that door being ajar," muttered Palissy. "And finding himself again shut up between high walls, he descried, by the light of the moon, a pear-tree close to the wall, up which he climbed, and then perceived on the other side of the wall, a chimney, to which he could leap easily." " Charming ! " said Yictorine. " Then now he's safe." "Not so fast," returned Marguerite, nodding her head with the satisfaction of one who has yet h 2 1 1 6 The Provocations of the best part of her story to tell. " He now went back to the prison to advise his companions, with whom he had left the file, that they might all escape together." " Capital fellow ! " exclaimed Palissy, throwing up his hands. " But no, they would not/' pursued Marguerite, " they preferred awaiting the horrors and glories of martyrdom." "Glorious, glorious!" said Bernard. "And can you, my dear Marguerite, call such people as these heretics ? " "What else can I call them? " said Marguerite. " They are very constant to their faith, but their faith may be wrong." " Don't believe it," said Palissy, earnestly. " Well, but Brother Robin ? " " Brother Robin returned and scaled the wall, and slipped down into the street by means of the chimney ; but never having been in Saintes till he was apprehended, he knew not how to get out of the town ; so what do you think he did ? His Madame Palijjy. 1 1 7 only friend in Saintes was a physician who had attended him while he wjs attacked, in prison, with a pleurisy. He knew his name, but not his abode. So, tucking up his garments about his shoulders, till, in the uncertain light, he looked something like a footman, and fastening his fetters so that they should not clank, he boldly commenced knocking up the townspeople, and asking them to direct him to the physician, as though he were a countrvman sent from a distance, in some pressing emergency, to fetch a doctor. Many nightcapped heads were thrust out ; some cursed him, some bade him go his ways, and one of these was the very counsellor who the next morning hunted high and low for him, and offered fifty dollars reward for his apprehension. At last some one opened his door to him and took him in." "Who was that?" cried Palissy, eagerly. "Ah, that's telling," said Marguerite, myste- riously. " God will bless him for it," said Palissv : " he 1 1 8 The Provocations of shall in no wise lose bis reward. * I was a stranger, and you took me in ; sick, and in prison, and you visited me.' " "So, by bis help, the poor brother escaped," said Marguerite ; " and really one cannot be sorry for it." "Sorry? no! I'm very glad," said Bernard, " and very much indebted to you, Marguerite, for stepping in to tell me of it. Take a little more wine ? No more in the house ? " " How should there be ? " said Yictorine. "You had better always let me invite people, who am more likely than you to know what we have and what we have not." "I succumb," said he, laughing; for whenever his head was not full of white enamel, he could be just as merry and pleasant as ever. " Well, I must be off," said Marguerite. " Shall I see you home ? " said Bernard. " Oh dear no, I'm not afraid either of robbers or wolves ; and not much afraid of the Letiche," added she softly, with a little shudder, and Madame Palijfy. 119 glancing at Yictorine. Letiche is the ghost of an unbaptized infant. " I am sure you need be afraid of no Letiche of ours/' said Yictorine, shortly ; rather hurt that any dead child of hers should be thought to walk. " Oh no, surely not/' said Marguerite, raising the latch. " However, I will go with you readily," said Palissy. "No, no, you'll be glad to be back to your potsherds, ha ! ha ! — your pounding and grinding, ha! ha! What a funny freak that is of yours, Bernard Palissy ! " And laughing at him, she nodded her farewell and went forth. " Come, she is off at last," said Bernard, dis- pleased at her merriment. " I began to think she meant to stay all night." And Yictorine, who had thought he needed not to be so polite in his offer of seeing Marguerite home, and was wounded at her 120 The Provocations of allusion to the Letiche, shrugged her shoul- ders, and bolted the door, as if it were no loss to her to be reduced to her own company again. Bernard had another word to say to her, however, before he shut himself in for the evening. " That dear little soul of ours," said he, pausing at the backrkitchen door, " has as cer- tainly fled up to its native skies, I believe, as any chrisom of them all. 'Twas no fault of thine or mine that its eyes scarcely opened on this world. Howbeit, had Master Philibert been in the house, he should certainly have baptized it." "His baptism would be worth nothing," said Victorine. " How can you say so, Victorine ? He be- lieves as firmly as any churchman of them all, in Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, in whose name our Lord commanded that all men should be bap- tized." "Remember, Bernard Palissv," cried his wife, Madame Pa/iffy. 1 2 1 " your promise before our first child saw the lio-ht, that every infant of mine should receive church baptism. You were less of a heretic then." " God forbid I should go from my word/' said Bernard ; " and if I thought that little fondling of ours were in suffering for my sin, I might well be afraid enough of the Letiche. Howbeit, you know no time was given us ; and as concerning Master Philibert, he is an ordained priest, call him what names you will." And with these words he shut himself in — " to force a path to the unknown/' It now became the fashion of that small neighbourhood to laugh at Palissy. He did not hear much of it, indeed, leading so recluse a life ; but, whenever he came forth, he found himself regarded as a poor moonstruck man — answered ironically, and insulted with jeering questions. His temper, though sweet, was not proof against impertinence and injustice. Still and stagnant water is not the purest, nor is the 122 The Provocations of sweetest water always unruffled. Sometimes he let these attacks pass unnoticed ; sometimes he retorted playfully, and said, " You will sing another song when my wife rides in her coach ; " sometimes he answered a fool according to his folly, and grew angry with him for not under- standing what he could not possibly understand. What stung him most was his being pretty sure that these cavillers and carpers were set on him by his wife. And then her midnight tears ! — her sighs for bread — her complaints that it was hard she should have to work to death to pay the bills. It was hard, Victorine ! and yours was not the Faith that could follow Genius blindfold ! Your murmurs were the bitter seasoning of his daily food, and you gave him plenteousness of tears to drink. For why ? — you had other mouths to fill besides his and yours ; always a baby new-born or a baby dying. Poor, sad mother ! and you were growing haggard and gaunt, and your voice was acquiring a stern tone. Madame PaliJJy. 123 Often they had nothing all day but black rye bread to eat, and not enough of that. . . She would leave his share on the table, to eat at what irregular hour it pleased him ; but she sometimes stinted herself that he might have the more. Or she would send it in to him by Fleurette, saying, in a deep harsh tone, " There, tell your papa, that is all there is in the house : we must starve unless he works for more." Was the chance of finding the white enamel worth all this ? At length absolute want stared him in the face. He not only had no money to buy bread, but, what he considered still worse, no money to buy the materials for more than one experiment in the glass-house. This batch of trial-pieces, then, must be his last. He resolved to close with an unusual effort. Having prepared three hundred different mixtures, and placed each on its own little potsherd, and numbered and registered the materials and pro- portions of each, he, with a prayer in his heart, 124 ^ e Provocations of helped Andre to carry them to the furnace, and resolved to watch them through all the stages of baking himself He was now thirty- seven years old ; a good deal worn since he first embarked in this pursuit, with wasted limbs and a slight furrow on his open brow ; altogether a strong contrast to the Hercu- lean frames of the glass-workers employed about the furnace, with whom he chatted from time to time as they stood about. But though he spoke lightly of divers matters, his anxious eye was ever on the furnace mouth. Four hours he thus waited. Then one of the workmen opened the furnace ; Bernard bent towards the fiery glow ; hastily ran his eye over the potsherds, and beheld, oh joy ! that the com- pound in one of them had melted. The piece wa3 withdrawn and set aside to cool, and the furnace was re-closed. Bernard now set himself to watch the cooling potsherd with intense anxiety. The compound suffused over it did not look very promising ; but as it gradually hardened, Madame Palijfy. 125 it gradually grew whiter. It became cold — it was white . . . white and polished ! Singularly beautiful ! "Aha!" cried he, "I have it at last!" He clasped his hands and could not say another word. The men wished him joy. " I must tell my wife/' said he. " Poor Victorine ! how she will rejoice ! " And, with the enamelled potsherd in his hand, he ran rather than walked towards home. " I have it ! " cried he, bursting into the house, — "I have the white enamel !" "Hush!" said his wife, putting her finger on her lips, "poor little Fleurette is ill." Palissy was subdued in a moment. "Is she going to die, like Paul?" whispered he, horror-struck. " Nay, I hope not, 33 said Tictoiine, " she is not yet so ill as that, thank God, and is now asleep. But I feared your tumultuous entrance might waken her." " But, dearest Victorine, are you not glad, very 126 'The Provocations of glad, that I have found the white enamel?" resumed he, in an energetic whisper. "Very," said she, with a preoccupied air, " that is, if it brings you in any money. Other- wise I don't care for it a pin." "You said a hundred times, I should never find it." "Well, and what an immense time you have been finding it! — leaving us to starve all the while ! The time might seem short to you, because you were having your own way; but that was not the case with us." " It did not seem short to me, I can tell you. Well, I thought you would have been a little more pleased — have shown a little more sj^mpathy." "And where is this wonderful enamel ? How can I admire what I have never seen ? Is this it?— This, all? — Bah! I think absolutely nothing of it ! " "It is the thing, however." " It's a very poor thing, whatever it is ; Madame Patijfy. 127 not worth looking at. Gracious goodness ! to think of a man, a family man, having wasted so much good time and money, only to produce that!" " Dear Yictorine, you know, as well I do, your only is not just. This specimen in itself, as far as its intrinsic beauty goes, is of no worth ; but the principle being discovered, can be applied, I hope to find, to the production of works of exquisite beauty." " Oh, goodness me ! don't let me hear any more about it," cried she, stopping her ears, — " I'm sick to death of the very name of enamel. Principle, indeed ! If you had been a man of any principle, you would have given up your wildgoose chase long ago. I should then have respected you more, unsuccessful, than I can do now, in all the elation of victory." His heart sank : he went and shut himself up in his little sanctum, and hid his face in his hands. " This may be very fine discipline," thought 128 T/ie Provocations of he, at last changing his attitude : — " a wondrous fine moral tonic, Master Philibert would tell me ; and yet, sometimes, I hardly know how to bear it patiently. Oh, Victorine ! how one kind word, one sympathising smile, would send me on my way rejoicing ! " Just then, she opened the door about two inches, for he had neglected to bolt it ; and looked in upon him without entering. " Do you think," said she, " you can raise a little ready money on this white enamel ? " "No, Victorine!" replied he, sighing. — Clap went the door. " Doubtless, doubtless," thought he, " her heart is wrung about Fleurette — she fears she is dying like little Paul, though she will not own it." But, just then, he heard Fleurette's pretty voice prattling in the kitchen, and Victorine answering her quite cheerfully. " Ah, then," thought he, " it cannot be that." And he sank into a fit of deep depression, with the enamelled potsherd in his hand. This is no single case. Bruce, immediately on discovering the source of the Blue Nile, was overwhelmed by an ac- cess of profound melancholy. Davy, when he disco- vered the metallic basis of potash, actually bounded with joy ; but his exultation was the prelude to immediate and severe illness, which was very near proving fatal; and his apprehension was that he should die before he published his discoveries. Newton, when he found all his deep calculations tending to the desired result, turned faint, and was obliged to yield the pen to another hand. Miss Mitford has left on record that on the day after the brilliant success of u Eienzi," she felt so completely humbled, that never in her life had she so oppressive a sense of her own demerits as on that day of imputed triumph. And yet, fame had come close to her, close enough to be clutched; which was not the case with Bernard Palissy. His spirit was deeply, profoundly exercised ; and it was all for his good. His sadness gradually subsided into solemn thought; he arose, sought i his carefully kept Bible, and sat down with it and opened it on his knees. The more he read, the calmer he grew. For where is such a voice that addresses itself to the saddest heart, the highest intellect, with such irresistible force ? " Where- withal shall a young man cleanse his way, but according to that word ?" Wherewithal shall an old man whose soul cleave th to the dust, be quickened, but by that same word ? " I opened my mouth and drew in my breath/' says David, simply and forcibly, " because of thy word ;" and Bernard felt it penetrate every faculty of his soul like a subtle and generous medicine. The famous Alexandrine library was inscribed "Animi Pabulum ;" or, according to Diodorus, "Animi Medicinu." Bernard's library comprised but one book ; but he might have inscribed it with both titles ; for to him it was both food for the soul and medicine for the mind. When he had read some time, he put away his Bible, and sought out and played with Fleurette. CHAPTER VIII. NEXT morning, Palissy, who always woke wide awake, sprang out of bed cheerful as a lark, busy as a bee. His elastic mind had re- covered its tone ; God's blessing had been on his dreamless sleep ; he was all alive and ready for work. Victorine's spirits were depressed in pro- portion to his cheerfulness : she knew he had risked his last handful of coin on the preceding day's experiment ; it had been conceded to her by him that if it failed, he would abandon the pursuit of the enamel ; it had succeeded, so far as to release him from his covenant, but not so far as to bring in one penny of ready money. Hence she was low-spirited and cross. i 2 132 The Provocations of Bernard, who knew pretty well what made her so, and. felt he could not take a single step with- out either money or credit, ate his galette medi- tatively, and then started off for Saintes with his enamelled potsherd in his hand. "Where are you going?" said Yictorine, in passing. " To the public- house," said he, with a roguish air. She raised her hands and eyes, and said nothing; — but with a look that expressed every- thing. He turned about, put his hands on her shoulders, and gave her a look, that was quite as expressive : full of covert droller} 7 , and good- humoured upbraiding. It said, "You who know me so well, can you doubt me for a moment ?" She could not help smiling at last, but shook him off and turned awav. mi On he went, with a light step, to the Golden Fleece. There, on the beuch under the tree sat Master Gaspar, the publican, in all his glory. It was too early for any business in his line to Madame PaliJJy. 133 be stirring yet. Bernard knew it, and with, full self-assurance, stepped up to him and sat down beside him. ""Well, how goes it with you, Bernard ?" said the publican, patronisingly ;