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 LI E) RAR.Y 
 
 OF THE 
 
 U N IVLR.5ITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI.
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI 
 
 A STORY OF 
 
 THE DRAGONNADES. 
 
 By EDWARD GILLIAT, MA. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE & RIVINGTON, 
 
 CROWN BUILDINGS, i88, FLEET STREET. 
 
 .1877. 
 {All rights reserved. )
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, 
 
 STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.
 
 8^3 
 
 V. 1 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The reader will ask, '* Is this true ? Did it 
 really happen ? " To this must be replied that 
 the De Cornelli family are creations of the 
 author, but their fortunes and sufferings are 
 historical, inasmuch as they happened, not once 
 
 '^to one particular family, but over and over 
 
 ♦* 
 
 \5|* again to many persons, and in many parts of 
 f^ France. 
 
 'i) The historical student will recognize old 
 o^rlends in Huet, Jean la Bruyere, the Abbess of 
 5^Fontevraud, Du Chayla, Cavalier, and the other 
 ^chiefs of the Huguenots in the Cevennes. 
 I One liberty has been taken with chronology 
 *^which must be acknowledged. In order to bring
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 into contrast the Protestantism of the educated 
 Normans with that of the unguided men of 
 the desert, the rising in Languedoc has been 
 represented as taking place in 1687, whereas 
 the facts related did not occur until 1 702. 
 
 The incidents related in that part of the 
 story which deals with the Cevennes are taken 
 impartially from Roman Catholic or Protestant 
 historians ; but it has not been thought neces- 
 sary to adhere strictly to the order of time in 
 which those events took place. 
 
 All descriptions of scenery throughout the 
 book have been suggested by personal inspec- 
 tion of the localities described. 
 
 E. G.
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 It is the spring of the year 1683 : the gardens 
 which slope down, terrace after terrace, to those 
 dark woods on which the westering sun will 
 soon set are the domain of the Sieur de 
 Cornelli, nobleman and landed proprietor in 
 Normandy. The spires of yon cathedral to the 
 east are the spires of the cathedral church of 
 Coutances, and that bit of light beyond the 
 woods far away to the west is the sea. The 
 chateau itself is concealed from us by a cluster 
 of cedars, as we stand on the upper terrace of 
 the gardens ; but on this clear afternoon in 
 May one can look over the rolling fields of fair 
 Normandy till the eye can descry, faintly 
 blurred in the golden sunset, the isle of Jersey ; 
 
 VOL. I. • B
 
 2 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 while, If we turn ourselves to the east, we can 
 make out the rounded eminence of the little 
 town of St. L6, twenty-one miles away. 
 
 There is a rustic seat on a little knoll at the 
 end of this terrace, which commands a.n exten- 
 sive view on all sides, and half-a-dozen well- 
 grown trees form a grateful canopy or shelter 
 from the rain. It is to this secluded spot that 
 two figures are making their way along the 
 terrace — one, that of a tall and well-pro- 
 portioned gentleman of about forty years, the 
 other, that of a slim girl of eighteen. It is the 
 sieur himself who comes towards us, bearing 
 his chapeau under his arm — for this is the age 
 of flowing wigs — and attired in a simple suit of 
 black, and he is pointing out to the girl by his 
 side the varying beauties of the landscape. 
 
 '* I am charmed, mademoiselle, to think that 
 you already find la belle Normandie so 
 pleasing." 
 
 '' Pleasing ! Oh, monsieur ! such scenery as 
 this deserves a far more enthusiastic expression. 
 I have never seen so extensive a prospect, even 
 in dear old England!" A sigh, half-audible, half- 
 suppressed, accompanied this allusion to her 
 native country ; her companion noticed it, and 
 in a low, kind voice, replied —
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 3 
 
 ** You Speak, mademoiselle, of * dear old 
 England,' as if that land were endeared to you 
 by a thousand associations of home and kin- 
 dred ; and yet my friend the English wine- 
 merchant at Havre gave me to understand that 
 you were an orphan, and had never known 
 the sympathy of near kinsmen. Forgive me, 
 Mademoiselle Ethel, if I seem to you to touch 
 thus early on personal topics, but I do so — 
 I recall to your mind these misfortunes — that I 
 may assure you all the more warmly of our wish 
 to make you one of us — to get you to feel that it 
 was as my daughter's friend I brought you to 
 live with us ; long has she needed a sister, and 
 in you, mademoiselle, I already feel she has 
 found one." 
 
 Ethel Digby bowed in answer to these kindly 
 meant but somewhat stately utterances ; in 
 truth, she was a little frightened by her patron's 
 formal manner, and as this was only her first 
 day at the Chateau de 1' Esprit, and her fourth 
 on French soil, she felt herself at present as 
 amongst strangers. 
 
 Her parents had both died when she was 
 almost an infant, and a maiden aunt had 
 brought her up and given her a good education 
 in Latin and English ; for the example of
 
 4 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 Queen Elizabeth had given a great stimulus to 
 the education of women at this period, and the 
 works of Spenser and Sidney, Shakspeare and 
 Bacon, were read with avidity in an age whose 
 taste had not been cloyed by the honeyed pages 
 of the modern novelist. 
 
 Her aunt lived in a small house near Win- 
 chelsea, in Sussex, and this was the occasion of 
 her gaining a knowledge of French — an un- 
 usual accomplishment for English men or women 
 in that age ; for there happened to be a colony 
 of French refugees settled at Rye, which town 
 lies within an easy walk of Winchelsea, and 
 thus the liberal-minded aunt was enabled to 
 give her niece the opportunity of learning to 
 speak French with an accent racy of the soil, if 
 not Parisian. 
 
 But the good old lady's affairs became, em- 
 barrassed, and with her decaying income came 
 the anxiety that sapped her health, and Ethel 
 Digby found herself, at the age of seventeen, 
 alone in the world and almost penniless. How- 
 ever, by the kindness of a merchant at Rye she 
 was lodged and fed at little or noyexpense, until 
 a wine-merchant from Havre, coming one day 
 into the port, and inquiring for a young lady 
 of parts and education to be companion to the
 
 ASYLUM CHRIST!. 5 
 
 daughter of a French nobleman, Ethel was 
 consulted on the matter, and with a heavy heart 
 agreed to accept the position. 
 
 After being buffeted about for several days 
 between Rye and Havre on a stormy sea, it was 
 with a sigh of relief that she stepped from the 
 odorous cabin of the clumsy schooner upon the 
 shore of a new and strange country. 
 
 That night she was lodged at the house of 
 Master John Walters, the wine-merchant, and 
 received gratefully the petits soins of madame, 
 his little French wife, who spoke at great leogth 
 on her capacity for making " English comforts," 
 while all the time the arrangements of the house, 
 the preparation of the food, and the painful 
 primness of the furniture, bespoke her inability 
 to understand the inner meaning of our insular 
 word. 
 
 Ethel was, however, thankful for all mercies, 
 and glad to sleep in a bed that did not turn 
 somersaults during the night — her recent ex- 
 perience — and when early the next morning, a 
 weather-beaten old coachman of the Sieur de 
 Cornelli drove to the door with a covered car- 
 riage on springs, and a pair of what Ethel 
 called "ponies" (to good old Pierre's disgust), 
 she began to feel her spirits revive, and the
 
 6 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 adventure and the novelty of the journey kept 
 her thoughts away from sad memories of the 
 past. 
 
 It was, however, a long and tedious journey, 
 and the roads were often so bad that Ethel was 
 glad to descend and walk for a mile or two in the 
 worst places ; and then Pierre, holding the near 
 side pony by the bit with a terrific grip, as if 
 the worst might be expected from such bone 
 and mettle, would enter into conversation with 
 the young Anglaise, and try to beguile the 
 weary way with local tales and shrewd sayings. 
 
 Fortunately, Ethel had been accustomed to 
 horses, and had often ridden out with a rich 
 young lady of her acquaintance at Rye, and this 
 experience had served her as a passport to 
 Pierre's good graces. For towards the close of 
 the second day's journey, as they were descend- 
 ing a steep hill, a part of the harness gave way, 
 as French harness will do, and the carriage was 
 running on to the hocks of the ponies, who were 
 eyeing matters ascant in a fashion that exhibited 
 a good deal of the white of the eye, when Ethel 
 quietly jumped down from behind and pushed a 
 thick stick between the spokes of the wheel — 
 this was the drag in those parts of France — and 
 before Pierre had time to get down, she had re-
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. *J 
 
 arranged the straps and made the harness secure. 
 From this moment Pierre's feeHngs towards his 
 young protdgde underwent a change — from the 
 helpless English mademoiselle, who might, for 
 all he knew, be a Papist, she was transformed 
 into a clever • and obliging companion ; and 
 Pierre soon began to open his heart to her 
 respecting the family in which she was going to 
 live, and. the state of France in general ; and as 
 the conversation which enlightened Ethel may 
 also make the reader comprehend the position 
 of some of the characters that follow, we ^hall 
 take the liberty of listening to the travellers as 
 they journey. 
 
 It was after stopping a night at Caen, when 
 they were leaving the towers of St. Etienne in 
 the distance. There had been rain all night, and 
 at seven o'clock, when they partook of boiled 
 milk and hot bread, the sky was still dispensing 
 its superfluous drops, so that for the first mile 
 and a half neither spoke. But the clouds 
 cleared away and the sun shone out, making 
 all the dew-drops silver on the new spring 
 leaves, and the peasant-women, as they passed 
 on their way to the market, threw back their 
 dark hoods and smiled good-morning beneath 
 the bravery of their tall Norman caps. Old
 
 8 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 Pierre relaxed his usual stern look, the ponies 
 shook their heads merrily, and the little bells 
 with which they were adorned rang out and 
 jangled with unwonted energy. 
 
 " And perhaps mademoiselle finds Caen 
 magnificent?" inquired Pierre, .pointing back 
 with his whip in the direction of the gilded 
 spires. 
 
 " I admired some of the churches, Pierre, 
 very much, and the shops are well bestowed 
 in jewellery, to my thinking." 
 
 " Humph ! Churches and jewellery ! Voyez- 
 vous, mademoiselle, you have put your finger 
 on the two curses of the town." 
 
 Ethel bit her lip and smiled ; the old man 
 whipped the ponies smartly, and, to compensate 
 matters, pulled them in abruptly. 
 
 " I say to myself, mademoiselle is English ; 
 she is learned in the Scriptures, and, like her 
 countrymen, is of ' the religion.' " 
 
 '' ' The religion ? ' " asked Ethel ; " we are 
 Protestants in England." 
 
 '' Ah, well ! mademoiselle can call it what she 
 will — here we call it 'the religion.' Doubtless 
 the EnMish Protestants have some tincture of 
 
 o 
 
 Papistry amongst them still, for I observed that 
 mademoiselle avoided the temple service last
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 9 
 
 night, and seemed to be captivated by the false 
 glitter of the altars." 
 
 " Indeed, if you call that bare chamber in 
 which I saw a Calvinist preaching in a black 
 gown 'the temple,' I must confess to feeling 
 a shiver run through me when he shouted out 
 that description of the bottomless pit. Besides, 
 Pierre, it was not a bit like a church, and clergy 
 and laity seemed all dressed alike." 
 
 *' Mon Dieu ! to hear mademoiselle speak, 
 one would fancy she came from the court of 
 the Grand Monarque ! I could take n\ade- 
 moiselle to our temple in Coutances, where she 
 would hear such a description of hell-fire as 
 would send her weeping to bed, and glad 
 enough to get there safely ! But, after all, 
 doubtless mademoiselle is of the elect, and so 
 it makes no matter." Whereupon Pierre scolded 
 the off-side pony for an imaginary stumble, and 
 resumed, in a quieter tone, ''In effect, it is no 
 easy matter for us at the chateau to live up 
 to our religious lights without offending the 
 Catholic scruples and superstitions of madame." 
 
 " What ! Is Madame de Cornelli, then, a 
 Catholic ? " 
 
 " To be sure she is. Does not mademoiselle 
 know that the Sieur de Cornelli fell in love
 
 lO ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 with a lady at the king's court, and that the 
 queen was very angry with her for marrying a 
 Calvinist — though, for the matter of that, my 
 master was then, they say, more of an infidel 
 than aught else, and used to mock at our doc- 
 trines of election and justification. But since 
 times have been changing for the worse, and 
 ' the religion ' has been hampered and restricted 
 by laws and ordinances, and the king has been 
 trying to bribe the elect of God to take the 
 mass and go to confession, the sieur has been 
 more regular in his attendance at divine wor- 
 ship ; I will say that for him." 
 
 " You surprise me, my good Pierre ; I quite 
 thought I was going amongst Protestants. And, 
 pray what is the young lady ? " 
 
 " Oh, Mademoiselle Marie is Catholic, like 
 her mamma ; it was arranged that the sons 
 should follow the fathers religion, and the 
 daughters the mother s. Voila ! " 
 
 Whether this last expression was intended to 
 give point to his explanation, or whether it was 
 the outward symbol of the gratification he felt 
 in having successfully touched up the off-side 
 pony on a raw place, I don't know ; but as the 
 whip thereby became entangled in the harness, 
 it was incumbent on Pierre to dismount, and
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. II 
 
 Ethel found, upon his climbing to his seat, that 
 the old man had for some unaccountable reason 
 contracted an obstinate tendency to silence. So 
 she left him to his gutturals and his ponies, and 
 commenced building castles in the air, with the 
 hope of charming away a certain instinctive 
 feeling of dread which Pierre's account of the 
 Chateau de 1' Esprit had given her. In vain! 
 She found herself thinking over the thrilling 
 incidents of the Bartholomew Massacre, dwelling 
 morbidly on scenes from the siege of Rochelle, 
 •which an old sea-captain had related to her, and 
 drawing vivid pictures of thumb-screws and 
 scavenger's-daughters, until, tired and worn, she 
 sank into a deep slumber which even the jolt- 
 ing of the vehicle could not disturb ; and thus 
 she rested until a vague sense of stopping and 
 of confused voices made her start up, and — 
 could she believe her eyes ? — there, in the slant 
 rays of the afternoon sun, sat on her white palfry 
 a young girl, with long braided hair falling in two 
 brown tresses down her back. The dark gray 
 eyes, fringed with long black lashes, and crowned 
 with eyebrows whose curving lines gave a very 
 arch and piquant look to the face, the blue 
 riding-dress fitting close to the girlish figure, 
 the long black plume that rose beside the
 
 12 ASYLUM CHRLSTI. 
 
 Steeple hat and drooped backward — all flashed 
 at once upon Ethel's bewildered gaze, and 
 she could find no words for utterance. The 
 other, however, advancing to the side of the 
 carriage, leaned forward and stretched out a 
 hand of welcome, adding, in a bright and cheer- 
 ful tone — 
 
 '' We bid you welcome. Mademoiselle Digby, 
 to Normandy. I must introduce myself — I am 
 Marie de Cornelli, and this little boy is my 
 brother Philippe. We have ridden so far to 
 meet you, and to escort you to the house of our 
 aunt, who will give us shelter for the night, and 
 to-morrow we shall finish the journey very 
 easily." 
 
 Ethel said some words of questionable French 
 in answer to her companion, which were not 
 improved by an English translation that a 
 natural confusion of mind prompted her to 
 supply, as Marie knew no English ; but the 
 mistake at once dismounted them from the stilts 
 of ceremony, and in a few minutes they were 
 laughing together like old friends. 
 
 Marie now gave her palfry to a groom to 
 lead, and took a place in the carriage beside 
 Ethel. Pierre gave an extra crack to his whip 
 and the cavalcade proceeded. Behind the car-
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 1 3 
 
 riage rode the little Philippe, a blue-eyed boy of 
 twelve years, clad in a doublet of purple satin, 
 over which passed a shoulder-belt of silk cord, 
 to which was attached a small hunting-horn ; in 
 his hat was a black aigrette ; his feet were en- 
 cased in large leather stirrups, and he carried a 
 silver-mounted whip with a "long lash. It was 
 not at first sight quite clear what was the use 
 of the horn and dog-whip, but in answer to 
 Philippe's call a large tawny mastiff jumped 
 out of the gorse by the wayside. 
 
 '' Maintenon " was a young dog, scarcely a 
 year old, but already gave promise of consider- 
 able power ; however, he seemed to think that 
 his young master was a younger dog than he, 
 and, perhaps in consequence of too often reite- 
 rated commands, philosophically turned a deaf 
 ear, and pursued his sanitary inspections on 
 either side of the road, in scorn of con- 
 sequences. 
 
 Nothing remarkable occurred that evening. 
 It was getting dusk as they rode into the 
 grounds of the Sieur de Cornelli's sister. She 
 received them with open arms, and entertained 
 them with fish from the lake and sweet-meats 
 of her own concocting, kissed them all on both 
 cheeks when they went to bed, and called them
 
 14 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 early the next morning to pray for a blessing on 
 the day about to come. This was Ethel's intro- 
 duction to a Calvinlst household, and she was a 
 little frozen by the stern and severe looks of 
 the worshippers, as they stood and repeated the 
 fifty-first Psalm. 
 
 But however uncompromising the good old 
 lady showed herself to her Creator, to flesh and 
 blood she was the most winning of maiden 
 aunts ; and thus the harsh features of her 
 religion did not make so deep an impression on 
 Ethel's mind. They left her waving a kerchief 
 wet with tears, and repeating aloud a verse of 
 the Psalm they had read in the morning. 
 
 '* Aunt Justine is a good, kind creature," said 
 Marie, as they drove away, " but she always 
 makes me attend her heretical services, in the 
 hope, I presume, that I may join the religion." 
 
 " Does Madame de Cornelli object to your 
 attending a Protestant service ? I think Pierre 
 told me she and you were Catholics," said 
 Ethel. 
 
 " Certainly, mamma would not wish me to do 
 so, except out of politeness to my friends ; one 
 must be civil, you know, and unfortunately our 
 family is afflicted with many heretics. Mamma, 
 to be sure, is a good Catholic — you should hear
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 1 5 
 
 the Bishop of Coutances sing her praises ; as for 
 me, I have not thought much about such 
 things." 
 
 ** But your Httle brother there — Is he the same 
 as your papa ? " 
 
 '' Oh ! the CornelH family have been Hugue- 
 nots for a century and more — It Is a point of 
 honour with papa, more than of religion, I 
 think ; but men, you understand, do not make 
 good Catholics — they seem to me to lack that 
 feeling of dependence which makes a woman 
 so willing to submit to the penance of Holy 
 Church. Why, that little villain, Phil, Is a rank 
 Huguenot ! He and Pierre shut themselves 
 up in the stable and sing Marot's hymns. It Is 
 scandalous ! " 
 
 They were now approaching the little town 
 of St. L6, and as the carriage moved slowly up 
 the steep hill on which the town stands, the 
 white-capped peasants thronged about them on 
 all sides — for it was market-day — and some of 
 them dropped a reverence to Marie, which she 
 acknowledged with a smile and a nod. It was 
 to Ethel a novel sight, accustomed as she had 
 been to a peasantry not over nice and elegant 
 In their attire ; and the perfect neatness and 
 cleanliness of these poor women, with their
 
 1 6 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 pats of butter in a white linen cloth, surprised 
 and amused her. She was still more astonished 
 when she noticed that the first thing each 
 woman did on attaining the summit of the hill 
 was to enter the church which stood at the 
 further end of the market-place. At Ethel's 
 request the party stopped at the church door ; 
 and upon their entering, a large number of men 
 and women of the poorer classes were found 
 kneeling before the various altars, absorbed in 
 their devotions. 
 
 " Is it not a beautiful idea, the unity of wor- 
 shippers — a whole nation knit together in one 
 common house of God ! " whispered Marie. 
 
 Ethel thought of the scenes of drunkenness 
 which disgraced her own country, and assented. 
 
 Presently they came out, but not before 
 Marie had reverently knelt on the cold stones 
 before the high altar. As they approached the 
 carriage, they saw that a crowd of market- 
 people had collected, and angry voices were 
 awakening echoes in the sacred precincts. The 
 centre of the surging crowd, Philippe and 
 Pierre, were being held at bay, and Maintenon 
 was struggling savagely in the leash. The 
 ponies, left to themselves, were browsing on 
 the green weed that grew beside the church.
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTT. I 7 
 
 /' Ma fol ! what shall we do ? they will hurt 
 poor little Phil ! " 
 
 Ethel sprang forward, forced her way through 
 the press, and in a moment was standing beside 
 Philippe. The sudden appearance of a girl who 
 was at least a head taller than any woman 
 there startled the crowd into silence. Her 
 long fair hair had fallen from its moorings and 
 had drifted rippling to her waist ; her face, 
 usually pale, was crimsoned with emotion.; and, 
 raising one hand, she bade them respect the 
 sanctity of the place, and depart in peace. 
 
 The peasants looked a little ashamed, but 
 soon a score of voices began to murmur, '' Why, 
 then, did they sing their cursed hymns at the 
 door of our church ? " and the tumult grew 
 louder. 
 
 Ethel then, for the first time, began to feel 
 afraid. It was as if the reason of the in- 
 dividual was being swallowed up by the animal 
 nature of the species ; the fierce, glowing eyes 
 came nearer and nearer, and the cursing of the 
 women made her blood curdle. As for poor 
 Marie, she stood on the church steps, weeping 
 and wringing her hands. Philippe would have 
 struck at the crowd with his riding-whip, but 
 Ethel prevented him ; Maintenon was snarling 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 1 8 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 and showing very white teeth, and Pierre was 
 disposing himself as much Hke the old picture 
 of the Christian martyr in his saddle-room at 
 the chateau as he conveniently could. 
 
 The situation was becoming worse and worse, 
 when the roll of a drum caught Marie's ear, and 
 she instantly ran off in quest of help. A com- 
 pany of marines in their blue jackets were 
 escorting some stores from St. Malo, and had 
 just halted on the green at the back of the 
 church : a young officer was with them. Marie 
 rushed up to him, and breathlessly begged his 
 help to save her friends from the mob who 
 surrounded them. She had not lifted her eyes 
 to the young officer's face, and she started when 
 he said, " Marie ! You here, and want my 
 protection ! " Then, turning to his men, he gave 
 the word of command to fall in, and, drawing 
 his sabre, marched at their head into the narrow 
 street' where the crowd were pushing and yelling. 
 In a moment a cry was raised, "Les militair.es !^^ 
 and, right and left, men in blouses and white- 
 capped women gave way or fled, and left the 
 marines masters of the field. 
 
 All was order and quiet in a few minutes, 
 and when Marie had again approached the 
 church, she found Lieutenant Guillot and
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 1 9 
 
 Philippe shaking each other by the hand and 
 exchanging salutes on either cheek. The 
 marines stood fast at ''attention," and only a 
 faint smile pn some faces betrayed a passing 
 interest in what was going forward. After Marie 
 had expressed her thanks to Lieutenant Henri, 
 as she called him, for his prompt assistance, the 
 two ladies were escorted to the carriage, and 
 old Pierre, looking rather crestfallen, gathered 
 up the reins. 
 
 " I am so much obliged to you, Henri," said 
 Marie, as she leaned forward to shaks the 
 lieutenant by the hand, while a blush deepened 
 the colour of her cheek and neck. 
 
 " And I am so much obliged to the canaille 
 there," said Henri, bowing; "but for them I 
 might never have seen my friend, arid " 
 
 Guillot seemed at a loss for a word and 
 stammered confusedly. Marie, too, was confused, 
 and cried out, " Drive on, Pierre ;" and amongst 
 the cracking of whips and the jangling of bells 
 Marie caught the words, '' Adieu, mademoiselle, 
 until the day of your fete'' 
 
 There was a silence between the two girls 
 for some minutes ; it was broken at last by 
 Ethel exclaiming, " How very foolish of Pierre 
 to sing his hymns close to the church ! "
 
 20 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 '' Yes, indeed ! and quite contrary to law — but 
 that is the way with these Huguenots ; they 
 are as obstinate as a Breton." 
 
 '* It was lucky, your meeting with a friend in 
 the lieutenant." 
 
 " Oh ! Henri Guillot used to live at Coutances 
 when he was a little boy. His mother had a 
 house on my father's estate ; there she and her 
 three sons used to remain while the father, le 
 capitaine, was away on service at sea. They 
 are all in the navy, those Guillots. The father 
 is an old friend of our family." 
 
 " What beautiful dark eyes,, and what a strong 
 handsome man ! " 
 
 " Ah ! you find him handsome enough, then ? 
 But did you not see the sweet little dimple that 
 nestled in his cheek when he smiled ? Did you 
 not mark it, mademoiselle ? " 
 
 '' I did, truly, and also the row of strong 
 white teeth, and the clear, almost girl-like, com- 
 plexion. But for his blue uniform I should 
 have taken him for an Englishman ; he had a 
 very open, ingenuous look." 
 
 " Thank you for an equivocal compliment," 
 said Marie, laughing ; '' we Normans, then, are 
 not usually ingenuous ! " 
 
 * "I beg pardon — it is our English conceit to 
 fancy ourselves so."
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. . 21 
 
 " The Gulllot family, however, are Breton, I 
 have heard papa say ; they are not, indeed, 
 noble by birth." 
 
 " Are there many noble families in this neigh- 
 bourhood, mademoiselle ? " 
 
 '' Not so many as there were a few years ago. 
 When the great Colbert came into power he 
 revoked all titles to nobility under thirty years' 
 standing, so many of the nouveaux riches had 
 claimed a title." 
 
 " And -do the nobility in France marry with 
 the middle class ? " said Ethel, with an arch look 
 at her companion. 
 
 "It depends ! " answered Marie, with a 
 haughty toss of the head ; " some of the old 
 nobility are very select." 
 
 They were now approaching the litde town 
 of Coutances. The cathedral' rose before them 
 on the summit of the hill they were climbing : 
 its gray towers rose heavenward through no 
 vile cloud of smoke ; unsullied and unsoiled, 
 that house of God seemed a fit emblem of the 
 religious life it was reared to enkindle — its 
 foundations were fixed amongst the homes of 
 men, its old gray buttresses and lantern spires 
 pointed to the blue heights beyond. 
 
 As the carriage rattled over the pavement in
 
 2 2 ASYLUM CHRIST!. 
 
 the narrow streets, it seemed as though a city 
 had risen to Hfe again — doors were flung open, 
 and old beldames in close- fitting caps peered out 
 to see what was the cause of all the clatter. It 
 was noon, and Coutances was clearly taking a 
 late dSjeuner. Stalwart young men, who, Ethel 
 thought, ought to have been at work, came forth 
 to view the travellers, holding most of them a 
 dish of bouillon, or vegetable broth, in the left 
 hand. The booths of the merchants and trades- 
 people were at this hour deserted, or hsft in the 
 fearful charge of a young girl, allowing barejy 
 space enough for the carriage to pass. Should 
 they have been so unfortunate as to meet 
 another vehicle, one of the two would have 
 been compelled to back into a side street, when 
 there would have been no lack of officious 
 hands to turn the wheels or hold the horses. 
 However, our travellers safely passed the 
 dangers of the streets, and were soon climbing 
 a hill to the west of the town. There was 
 wood now on either hand, more like the woods of 
 Sussex which Ethel had missed so much in her 
 drive through Normandy, where the oak raised 
 his giant arms and the elm flung about him 
 his stately foliage. 
 
 They had driven a little more than two miles
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 23 
 
 from Coutances when they arrived at a massive 
 stone gateway on the right hand side of the 
 road. Over the -top of the arch which spanned 
 the drive ran a device in Latin : " Non si male 
 nunc, et olim sic erit," and grinning in cold gray 
 stone above that rose a lion with an ambitious 
 tail and an iron chain about his neck. The 
 benighted peasant's teeth had often chattered 
 when the gray lion clanked his chain at mid- 
 night — for so the legend ran. At one side of the 
 gateway there was a door in the stone-work, 
 and from this issued an old woman with a face 
 like a Ribston-pippin, who hobbled to the gate 
 and slowly unfastened the ponderous bolts. As 
 Ethel gazed at the wizened face of the old hag 
 she felt she must have seen its counterpart, 
 and her wonder was allayed when she saw 
 Pierre stoop down and smack the pippin on 
 both cheeks, with a '' Good-day, mother." As 
 they passed through the gate, Marie nodded to 
 the old mother, who in return made a slow and 
 stately curtsey. 
 
 The drive led them through a portion of the 
 wood into a cleared space where trees of rare 
 beauty seemed to be performing solos to the 
 distant but admiring thickets ; presently smoke 
 appeared curling over the tree-tops — blue wood
 
 2,4 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 smoke, which gave a tone to the sylvan picture 
 — and, turning suddenly round a clump of 
 cedars, the travellers found themselves drawn 
 up beneath a long portico supported on stone 
 pillars. It was the Chateau de 1' Esprit, and in 
 a moment the Sieur de Cornelli was at the door 
 to welcome them, with three or four servants in 
 livery behind him. 
 
 Ethel had only time to notice a fine, hand- 
 some, rather dark face, with iron-grey eyes and 
 black moustachios, when the sieur advanced, 
 and, kissing her hand, assisted her into the hall. 
 As she passed to the 'further end her eye fell 
 upon the suits of armour which hung by the 
 wall, some battered and dusty, others bright 
 and seeming but of yesterday ; at the further 
 end a fire was blazing, and plates were disposed 
 on either side to catch the heat. In the centre 
 was a table, spread with a clean white cloth, 
 where the higher servants were about to eat 
 their dinner. After warming themselves for 
 a few minutes at the fire, the sieur led the way 
 to an inner chamber where food was being 
 served for the travellers, and when he had seen 
 that all was fitly provided, he made his excuses 
 and left the two girls alone with Philippe. 
 
 Madame de Cornelli was not very well, and
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 25 
 
 was in her own room ; so after dinner the 
 young ladies retired to their separate apart- 
 ments, and when, late in the afternoon, Ethel 
 came into the hall, she found the sieur about 
 to stroll in the garden, and, joining him, had the 
 conversation recorded in the early part of this 
 chapter.
 
 26 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 It was the evening of the third day after 
 Ethel's arrival at the chateau. Madame de 
 Cornelli was reclining on a couch in her red 
 boudoir ; the log was making fireworks up the 
 wide chimney, and pouring a stream of red light 
 upon the closed curtains • and damask chairs. 
 An elegant confusion seemed to prevail in the 
 chamber — a guitar lay upon the table, a mass- 
 book lay upon the guitar, some leaves of music 
 were shed upon the floor like autumnal waifs, 
 and an o2ikQ.x\. prie-Dieu supported a volume of 
 plays by the king's valet-de-cha7nbre, as he was 
 commonly styled- — the famous Moliere. A pair 
 of gauntlets trimmed with marten's fur lay 
 beside the couch, and almost touching the 
 gloves, but more in the shadow and under the 
 sofa, you might have seen a black muzzle and a 
 pair of bright, watchful eyes. Maintenon would
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 2"] 
 
 not have let you touch a treasure he was 
 ordered to protect. 
 
 But let us turn to the lady who lies looking 
 dreamily on the flying sparks. 
 
 Madame de Cornelli was married eighteen 
 years ago, or a little more ; she was now thirty- 
 seven years old. She had been a great 
 favourite with the queen, to whom she had 
 lent her services as maid-of-honour, and by 
 her she had been imbued with strong religious 
 feelings, which, if they did not take the place of 
 natural levity and coquetry, at least struggled 
 hard for a prominent position in her list of 
 virtues. She had, however, more wit than her 
 mistress, the good-natured Maria Theresa, and 
 contrived to win the affections of a young 
 Norman nobleman who had come up to Paris 
 with a Huguenot deputation. 
 
 The Sieur de Cornelli was five years her 
 senior — at that time a tall, handsome young 
 man of twenty-three, with an unencumbered 
 estate ; known in literary circles as a philosopher 
 and savant, the friend of Malebranche, Bayle, 
 and Racine — but then he was a Huguenot ! 
 The queen would not listen to such an idea as 
 her maid-of-honour marrying a heretic. But 
 clever men were just then in fashion, and
 
 28 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Laselle, as she never missed 
 going to confession, so she never failed to follow 
 the turns and windings of Dame Fashion ; 
 besides, she was then but eighteen years old, 
 and it was quite d la mode to fall in love at 
 an age so tender. Accordingly she fled one 
 morning in a coach and four, was privately 
 married in Paris, and before the ladies of the 
 court had time to whisper a word of scandal, 
 Madame de Cornelli was half-way on her road 
 to her husband's chateau in Normandy. Her 
 soft blue eyes and fair hair, her sweet liquid 
 voice, her winning helplessness and air of list- 
 less discontent, at first took the love of the sieur 
 by storm ; he hovered about her as the moth 
 does about the candle, and singed the wings of 
 his intellect in the process. But time opened 
 his eyes to defects which he was once content 
 to worship, and the image of beauty which at 
 first monopolized the shrine of his affections 
 began, as years went by and children came to 
 claim his care, to occupy a niche in a humbler 
 corner, a little battered, yet not unnoticed. 
 
 No ! Madame, under her listless and distrait 
 manners, possessed a shrewd and practical sense, 
 the use of which kept her ever in her husband s 
 esteem, when her personal charms alone might
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 29 
 
 have had but a temporary conquest. The sieur 
 had never tried to make a convert of her to 
 Calvinism, beheving that for most women the 
 leading strings of Catholicism were safer than 
 the perilous liberty of religious revolution. And 
 so madame had her private chapel and her 
 confessor in one part of the chateau, while her 
 husband and his Huguenot followers praised 
 God in the other. 
 
 She had arrived at the age when ladies, be- 
 ginning to miss the old absorbing charm of 
 being daily flattered by those they love, turn, 
 as a kind of dernier ressort, to the consolations 
 of their favourite chaplains, and when, from 
 hearing themselves praised for earthly accom- 
 plishments, which they owe solely to the bounty 
 of Nature, they turn with a sigh of half-pleased 
 resignation to the affectionate reproof of their 
 confessor, when he chides them in fair, soft 
 words for spiritual defects which none but he 
 has been privileged to detect. 
 
 And yet we must do madame the justice to 
 say that she was, or believed herself to be, 
 thoroughly in earnest when she forsook the 
 role of a woman of fashion and gave herself 
 to frequent fasts and secret penance. And her 
 religion, cumbered though it was with priestly
 
 30 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 finger-posts and ecclesiastical half-way houses, 
 was a road which was bringing her daily 
 nearer God. She grew more unselfish — the one 
 true test of growth in holiness — and her un- 
 selfishness was not bounded by the limits of her 
 family ; she did not flatter her soul that God 
 and the Church approved her if she was lavish 
 to those she loved and spent herself in the 
 service of her children. By the advice of Mon- 
 selgneur the Bishop of Coutances, whose fine, 
 dark face and lustrous eyes seemed to her as 
 the vision of an angel, she had vowed to devote 
 no small portion of her time to visiting the sick 
 and the poor in and. about the town of Cou- 
 tances ; and the work, which she had commenced 
 with some repugnance, and from a desire to 
 achieve some holy work whereby she might be 
 saved, had somehow done more for her in this 
 life than she had expected. New and larger 
 sympathies began to ennoble a foolish life. She 
 awoke to the fact that in the reeking cabin of 
 the meanest peasant joy and sorrow, light and 
 shadow, pleasure and pain, were felt as keenly 
 as in the gilded palace, and she had seen how 
 Christ and our Blessed Lady did not scorn to 
 make their home amongst the scum and outcast 
 of the land. She had deemed that her works
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 3 I 
 
 ot mercy and charity were to be set on one side, 
 like so many leaves out of a ledger, to vouch 
 for her future salvation ; she little understood 
 how those very works were working out her 
 soul's salvation — even in their doing — in the 
 higher purpose which they suggested to her 
 energies, in the learning of her Lord's sweet 
 lessons of humility and self-surrender. It was 
 not the result of all her labours that was to save 
 her, but the process itself — the uncomplaining, 
 the waiting, the long toiling in dark streets, the 
 kneeling beside fevered couches, and on the cold 
 altar-steps when the wax lights flickered in the 
 wintry gust. In doing such-Hke things she was 
 not earning an eternal reward, nick-named ''Sal- 
 vation," to be paid her on demand' after funeral 
 obsequies ; no ! her soul was being saved alive, 
 as the old writing hath it, here in this world and 
 for the next. 
 
 As she lay there reclining on the sofa after 
 the labours of a day spent in attending mass at 
 the cathedral and visiting a few ^oor protdgdes, 
 Madame de Cornelli was revolving in her mind 
 certain projects regarding the future welfare of 
 her daughter, the wilful, too-natural Marie. 
 For we must not suppose that the Church 
 occupied all her thoughts ; she was too good a
 
 2,2 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 Catholic not to put the Church first, at least in 
 fancy, but she was too good a mother not to 
 sacrifice a little principle for her children's 
 benefit. The scheme which she was pro- 
 posing to herself just now was an alliance be- 
 tween Marie and the Comte de Pontorson, a 
 young nobleman of wealth and influence in the 
 neighbourhood, a Catholic, but of unenviable 
 fame for his lax and extravagant mode of 
 living. 
 
 " But then," said madame to herself, casting 
 her eyes to the gilded ceiling, ''it will be Marie's 
 7^ole to win that young man's soul for Christ and 
 His Holy Church." Marie would be seventeen 
 in a few days' time, and great preparations were 
 being made at the chateau to render \v^x fete as 
 elegant as possible. All the gentry for many miles 
 around had accepted invitations to a grand ball 
 to be given in honour of Marie's birthday, and 
 many families were coming to spend the day 
 and take part in the religious ceremonies which 
 usually formed part of the day's proceedings. 
 Madame de Cornelli had therefore much to 
 think about, besides mass-books and wax- 
 candles. 
 
 It was while she was engaged in a reverie so 
 pleasing to ladies, in which a certain handsome
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 33 
 
 young bridegroom leads from the altar a certain 
 blushing young bride — when a sympathetic smile 
 was breaking over her face and recalling the 
 charms of eighteen years ago— that a sudden 
 angry bark from Maintenon made her start 
 from the sofa and peer into the shadows of the 
 boudoir. At the same time a voice cried — 
 
 " A thousand pardons, madame, if I disturb 
 you ; will you have the kindness to restrain 
 your dog, that I may enter the chamber ? " 
 
 " Down, Maintenon, down, I tell you ! " cried 
 madame. The dog came from under the sofa, 
 looked up inquiringly into the face of his 
 mistress, then sat on his haunches facing the 
 stranger, who entered the room, bowing low. 
 By the glimmer of the fire, as he bowed his 
 head, you might have seen that the dark, short- 
 cut hair which covered his head bore marks of 
 the tonsure, though not of very recent cutting ; 
 the long serge habit, confined at the waist by a 
 cord, the tassels of which fell almost to the 
 knee, concealed a figure which was, though 
 spare, lithe and active. The new-comer was 
 one of those who write S.J. after their name ; 
 he was a priest of the famous Society of Jesus, 
 and was newly arrived from Paris on affairs 
 touching the diocese of Coutances. Having met 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 Madame de Cornelli at the bishop's residence, 
 he had contrived to procure an invitation to 
 stay a few days at the chateau, where he as- 
 sisted Father Beauvais, madame's private chap- 
 lain, in those Httle ecclesiastical attentions which 
 were customary in the sieur's household. 
 
 "Ah ! come in, your reverence — it is Father 
 Beretti, is it not ? " 
 
 There was soon no doubt of the father's 
 identity, for, as he moved to take the seat to 
 which his hostess motioned him, a shining silver 
 crucifix disengaged itself from the folds of his 
 habit, and swung pendulous from his neck as 
 he leaned forward to express a few words of 
 friendly interest in the occupations of the day. 
 Madame de Cornelli half- raised herself upon 
 her elbow, and the colour came to her cheek as 
 she conversed with the handsome young Jesuit. 
 There was something wanting, however, in 
 the striking face of the priest which made you 
 reserve your admiration, and you could not 
 help searching in those fine, glittering black 
 eyes for some traces of softness. There was a 
 hardness, too, about the thin lips which gave an 
 unpleasant expression to the face when it was 
 not lit up by smiles ; and though every attitude 
 and gesture of this refined and cultured scholar
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 35 
 
 was subdued to a tone of deep humility, he 
 could not help letting you see the native pride 
 which underlay his professional and acquired 
 submission. Perhaps it was because he showed 
 such fiertd, and was so point-device in his eccle- 
 siastical garb, that madame felt a fascination in 
 his voice and features which she experienced in 
 no other s, unless it were her bishop's. 
 
 " Here is a gentleman," she once remarked 
 to Marie, " and one who has mixed in all the 
 most learned and distinguished society of the 
 court ; the friend of Pere la Chaise and l^a 
 Fontaine — a priest as far above our country 
 fathers, as Abbe Huet is above his religious 
 confreres." 
 
 But Marie had taken a dislike to the Jesuit, 
 and her mother's praise of him fell on deaf ears. 
 There was another individual in the house who 
 also disliked the new guest, and that was Main- 
 tenon, a dog of strong Huguenot propensities, 
 insomuch as he had been once or twice soundly 
 beaten for venturing into the cathedral after 
 his mistress, whereas he had frequently followed 
 the sieur into the temple at Coutances, and 
 had slept out many a long dissertation on free- 
 will, at the feet of his master. The mastiff had 
 accordingly chosen his side, and, with the ex-
 
 36 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 ceptlon of Father Beauvais, who Hved at the 
 chateau, he regarded all persons arrayed in 
 priestly habits as suspicious characters. 
 
 The Jesuit had been conversing for some 
 minutes with madame when the door opened 
 and Marie entered ; then, catching sight of the 
 pere, she curtsied and was about to retire, but 
 Beretti rose, and softly bringing a fauteuil to 
 her mothers side, begged her, with one of his 
 most winning smiles, to seat herself. 
 
 '' Yes, Marie, sit down and listen to what our 
 good friend tells us of Paris and the fall of the 
 Reformed." 
 
 " I was telling your noble mother, my 
 daughter, of the great and good influence ex- 
 ercised upon his Majesty by that extraordinary 
 woman, Madame de Maintenon " — the mastiff 
 cocked one ear upon hearing his own name 
 pronounced, and appeared to listen very gravely. 
 " I was saying how, by God's interposition, this 
 accomplished lady, once, as you know, the in- 
 structress of the royal children, had been enabled 
 to turn a profligate heart to think of eternity 
 and the condition of our Holy Church." . 
 
 Marie answered drily, " Indeed ! I thought 
 Madame de Maintenon was a far different 
 person ; we never speak of her here."
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 37 
 
 It was now the Jesuit's turn to colour ; he 
 played a little sadly with the chain of his cruci- 
 fix, and answered, in a serious tone — 
 
 " Pardon me, daughter, if I caution you 
 against believing all the bad things you hear 
 of illustrious people. Coutances is a long way 
 from Paris — still, somehow, scandal travels fastfjr 
 and farther than good fame. Though the 
 English play-writer tell us how ' shines a good 
 deed in a naughty world,' yet, believe me, a 
 breath of ill-report dims the glasses through' 
 which we most of us view our neighbours." 
 
 ** I am glad to think I have been so unjust in 
 my estimation," replied Marie, haughtily tossing 
 her head. 
 
 *' I used to think with you, daughter, that in 
 the beautiful retreats of the country all was 
 simplicity and truth and nature — that in the 
 crowded city or the luxurious court there was 
 more falsehood, duplicity, and wickedness. A 
 few years of experience soon lead one to modify 
 this hasty impression ; it is easy to mistake 
 stagnation for simplicity, ill-nature for candour, 
 and self-conceit for independence of character." 
 
 *' I would rather stagnate amongst honest 
 people and virtuous fools than live in yonder 
 selfish court — and lose my self-respect."
 
 38 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 "Well, daughter, I cannot but applaud your 
 sentiments, which breathe a spirit of local 
 patriotism which at least does honour to your 
 heart — and I am sure no one could accuse you 
 of intellectual stagnation or ill-nature. If I 
 might presume on my holy office so far as to 
 suggest a more submissive spirit — you will for- 
 give me, I know — what are the laws of etiquette 
 when the soul is in danger ? how can I help 
 feeling an interest in the eternal welfare of one 
 so young — and so thoughtless ? " 
 
 This appeal rendered Marie silent. The spell 
 was upon her ; accustomed to listen to the 
 words of a priest as to the voice of God, she 
 could not hear Father Beretti's deep, solemn 
 tones accusing her of the sin of thoughtlessness 
 and pride without a feeling of shame and dis- 
 may ; and when her mother drew her face to 
 her, and, kissing her on the forehead, whispered, 
 '' Dearest Marie, think on what the good father 
 says, and pray our Lady to intercede for you, 
 and all will yet be well " — the poor girl was 
 quite overcome, and the tears trickled down her 
 cheeks. They were tears of disappointment 
 rather than of remorse : she felt that this Jesuit 
 was putting her in a false light; that her mother, 
 who ought to have aided her and sided with her,
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 39 
 
 had failed to understand her ; and she was very 
 miserable. 
 
 As for the good father, he eyed the pearly 
 tears with an inward chuckle ; were they not 
 the first-fruits of his disciplinary lecture ? was 
 he not breaking the head of what promised to 
 be a rebellion against his priestly authority ? 
 and after a long pause, he resumed — 
 
 " Yes, as I was remarking before, good often 
 comes from evil, or rather, what we in our ignor- 
 ance deem evil ; for what is good in one age 
 becomes evil in the next, and vice versa ; and 
 to speak of ' doing evil that good may come,' as 
 our enemies of the Reformed Religion, so pre- 
 tended, accuse us of the Society of Jesus, is 
 utter nonsense. For, consider, my daughter, if 
 it be really evil that we do, how can we conceive 
 good springing from it ? how can we believe 
 that God will bless evil means ? But, blessed 
 be God and our Lady, good has resulted and 
 does result from our labours ; for instance, the 
 king is even now working for the spread of the 
 Catholic faith, the heresies of Jansenism and 
 Quietism have come to naught, and Pelisson is 
 daily making a fabulous number of conversions. 
 Judge, then, if our means be not good which 
 bring in so rich a harvest of blessed results !
 
 40 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 , No, my daughter ! if good results from the 
 means one employs — not accidentally, but as the 
 direct result of those means — -then those means 
 are good — for good produces good, and evil 
 evil. Shall we call God the Father of Lies ? 
 and Satan the Parent of Virtue ? God forbid ! " 
 
 The two ladies murmured their assent, the 
 elder admiringly, the younger in a dazed and 
 bewildered manner. The Jesuit continued — 
 
 " Madame de Maintenon is a lady of great 
 and deep piety. Of her relations to the king, as 
 they have not yet been made public, it is best 
 to say but little ; I will only tell you that they 
 have received the sanction of the Church. And 
 I am sure you will both agree with me in com- 
 mending the zeal and judgment which that 
 lady has shown in winning the heart of the 
 king from the worldly career to which he has 
 hitherto devoted himself. It only shows us 
 how careful we should be what persons we 
 choose for our friends, what influences may 
 mould us for good or evil in the society of our 
 nearest and dearest. Ah ! my daughters, how 
 I pray all the saints to keep you true amid the 
 terrible temptations to which, in this country, — 
 I might say, in this chateau especially, — you are 
 exposed."
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 4 1 
 
 At this point the mastiff gave a whimper of 
 impatient joy ; was he, too, out-argued by the 
 wily father ? The fooHsh beast bounded across 
 the room and put his nose to the bottom of the 
 door, and with a firm and stately step entered 
 the Sieur de Cornelli. Father Beretti rose in 
 an instant and greeted his host with a frank 
 and open smile — a smile, however, which after 
 a time grew a little sickly and stereotyped, 
 betraying the conscious effort to keep it. As 
 these two men fronted one another, they be- 
 trayed no sense of antagonism ; each seemed 
 bent on showing the other with what courtesy 
 he could disguise his real sentiments. De Cor- 
 nelli was the taller of the two and by some 
 years the senior. Beretti was about thirty-six 
 years of age, but his smooth face and healthy 
 glow made him look younger. De Cornelli 
 was physically the stronger, but his student 
 habits had made him stoop a little and had 
 drawn the colour from his cheek. Beretti had 
 exercised his intellect in action, in the disputa- 
 tions of the schools, in teaching at the Jesuit 
 seminaries, and again in all the exciting and 
 mixed society of the court of Louis the Four- 
 teenth. De Cornelli was a reader of books ; 
 there was no one in the district with whom he
 
 42 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 could exchange ideas ; his best thoughts had 
 '' passed into smother." He was a Httle inde- 
 cisive, and apt to stammer and get confused in 
 argument. 
 
 Beretti had an eye which seemed to pierce you 
 through and through. De CornelH, when he 
 looked at you, seemed to be regarding some- 
 thing beyond you ; often when he answered 
 you he was thinking of something quite dif- 
 ferent. He was the deeper thinker of the two ; 
 Beretti was the quicker. You might have 
 taken De Cornelli for a fool ; Beretti would 
 have impressed you with his ability in five 
 minutes. De Cornelli was disguising his dis- 
 like to the father from the honourable feeling 
 of courtesy towards a guest staying in his 
 house ; Beretti was disguising his animosity 
 towards the Huguenot noble that good might 
 come of it ; he was smiling " in majorem Dei 
 gloriam." 
 
 The conversation soon turned upon the 
 approaching/^/^, and the quality and character 
 of the guests invited. Amongst these were, 
 mentioned the names of Captain Guillot and 
 Lieutenant Henri, the same who rescued our 
 young ladies from the market-women of St. 
 L6.
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 43 
 
 " I have heard of that Guillot," said the 
 Jesuit ; " he is an old sea captain, I beHeve, 
 whom his Majesty was compelled to supersede 
 on account of his dangerous views, both religious 
 and political. His son, too, if I mistake not, is 
 also marked for retirement ; they are a bad 
 family." 
 
 De Cornelli smiled a little contemptuously, 
 and replied, " The poor old man has done his 
 duty gallantly for God and his country ; he, at 
 all events, has not been chary of his life to pro- 
 tect his Majesty, and when the grey hairs c^me, 
 and his strength had been well-nigh spent in 
 the service, an • ambitious woman finds him 
 dangerous, and gets the king to fling him aside 
 like a rotten apple. Poor old gentleman ! he 
 was staying with us when the order came for 
 his dismissal, and I shall never forget the im- 
 pression he made upon us by his heart-broken 
 exclamations. Sir, if a man steel his heart with 
 all the philosophy of the ancients, I defy him 
 to crush the indignant thoughts that rise in his 
 bosom when such deep ingratitude, such cruel 
 injustice, is done an old officer. Sir, the family 
 may be a bad family — the gentlemen of your 
 society should be good judges of good and evil 
 — but let me tell you, Father Beretti, that I
 
 44 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 know no man on this earth whose friendship I 
 value more than that of old Captain Guillot, 
 the Huguenot officer." 
 
 '' Doubtless, monseigneur, the reports which 
 came from his fellow-officers of his atheism 
 and revolutionary principles were exaggerated ; 
 but his Majesty, after well weighing the evi- 
 dence, was reluctantly obliged to give way to 
 the clamour which his unpopularity raised 
 against him — -and, as you say, he was already 
 past service." 
 
 " Excuse me," replied De Cornelli ; " I said 
 nothing of the sort. You people of the court 
 are strangely misinformed on provincial matters, 
 methinks ; for it is a fact that nearly all the 
 officers of the fleet deeply regretted Guillot's 
 retirement — ^and, indeed, a petition was for- 
 warded to the king that he might retain his 
 commission. But is it true that the son, too, 
 is ordered to retire ? " 
 
 " I saw him in command of a company of 
 marines the other day, papa, and he said nothing 
 to us about it." 
 
 " I may be premature," said the Jesuit, '' but 
 it was spoken of as probable ; and, indeed, the 
 king no longer needs the services of Hugue- 
 nots."
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 45 
 
 ** May he never require them ! " said De Cor- 
 nelH with a sigh, and left the chamber. 
 
 Madame de CornelH resumed, '' I very much 
 regret that the Guillots were invited to attend 
 Marie's y^/^. Had I known as much of the old 
 officer's real sentiments as I do now, I should 
 have begged the sieur to pass them over." 
 
 *' Oh, mamma ! how can you say so ! You 
 know it is because they are not Catholics that 
 Father Beretti objects to them. Is it not so, 
 father ? " 
 
 The Jesuit looked at Marie with a long 
 melancholy gaze, then sighed and moved his 
 lips as in prayer, and finally rose to leave the 
 room, bowing low to madame and her daughter, 
 only adding — 
 
 *' Alas ! for the evil that one human heart 
 may work upon another ! Beware, daughter, 
 beware in time ! The days are coming when our 
 faith will be tried to the uttermost — and woe to 
 that soul which deserts our Lord and His Holy 
 Church in the day of temptation. I go to pray 
 our Lady and all the saints for you and yours." 
 
 As the door closed upon the departing 
 father, Madame de Cornelli started from the 
 sofa with flashing eyes and a flushed face. 
 
 *' Fie upon thee, Marie, for an irreverent
 
 46 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 child, thus to anger the good father with thy 
 impertinent speeches ! Yes, he is right. He 
 knows the heart of my poor child better than I 
 do myself ; it is the evil influence of Lieutenant 
 Henri which makes thy proud spirit rebel 
 against priestly authority. . I see it all now. 
 Would to God I had never allowed him to 
 cross our threshold ! and he an ignoble adven- 
 turer, a person of no birth or ancestry ! " 
 
 " There you do him wrong, my mother ; his 
 ancestors were ever famous amongst the officers 
 of the navy." 
 
 " Oh, I grant you they were honest men and 
 brave, but they are not noble." 
 
 Marie began to weep, and stammered out, 
 pouting like a spoilt child- — 
 
 " By your leave, my mother, they were noble, 
 all are noble who do noble deeds — papa says so 
 — they are noble in God's eyes, and a title is 
 only a human recognition of nobility." 
 
 " O del ! my child, what Republican senti- 
 ments ! Go, get you to your chamber until 
 supper-time — your eyes are red with weeping, 
 and we expect guests to-night ; go, dear child, 
 get your rosary and say a prayer for humility ; 
 go, you will find rose-water in my pink- chamber. 
 Such red eyes I never beheld."
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 47 
 
 And so Marie went away sobbing and re- 
 bellious, with fractious tear-drops resting on her 
 dark eye-lashes, which were too proud to fall 
 on the pretty, transparent cheek, and remained 
 like the last rain-drops on the rose when the 
 storm has passed away. 
 
 . Then madame rose to change her travelling- 
 dress, and, preceded by a reverend old waiting- 
 woman, who carried a torch and a bundle of 
 keys, she ascended the wide oak staircase to 
 her private apartments. 
 
 Meanwhile great preparations were being 
 made in the left wing of the chateau, where the 
 servants' apartments and the kitchens were 
 situated, and cooks were running to and fro 
 with steaming dishes, while the footmen, in the 
 red livery of the sieur, lounged about by the 
 great fire in the servants'-hall, and discussed 
 their master and mistress. Of these old Pierre 
 was the most noisy, his red, weather-beaten face 
 looking redder by the glare of the sputtering 
 logs, and taking a deeper colour from the 
 potency of the cider, a jug of which he was 
 holding in his right hand. He was talking to 
 an old grey-headed man who stood the centre 
 of a listening group ; the shoulder-knots on his 
 livery were fuller and more elaborate than those
 
 48 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 of the other servants, and he was Indlning his 
 head to Hsten to Pierre with an air of patron-, 
 age, as if to command were more famiHar to 
 him than to obey. It was Constant, maitre 
 d'hotel and confidential servant of the Cornelli 
 family for more than fifty years — a Catholic in 
 profession, in heart a Cornelli ; that is to say, 
 there was no power on earth, be it cardinal or 
 pope, he would have minded braving in his 
 master's defence ; for in that he placed the 
 whole duty of Jean Constant. 
 
 *'Ah! Monsieur Jean," said Pierre, as he 
 wiped his lips witb the cuff of his coat, ** this 
 cider reminds me of the day when mademoiselle 
 was christened, and all the tenants and ouvriers 
 yonder were supped at monseigneur's expense ; 
 it is your prime stingo, this ! " 
 
 '' You may say so," replied Constant, smiling. 
 " I got it up for the especial drinking of the 
 Comte de Pontorson, and he is no bad judge of 
 ciders, I warrant ye." 
 
 The other servants joined in a laugh at the 
 comte's expense, but Pierre, suddenly recollect- 
 ing himself, replied gravely — 
 
 " Mon Dieu ! to think that we should be here 
 making fun of the sins and follies of that young 
 profligate — laughing at the probable damnation
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 49 
 
 — the eternal damnation, if you please— of an 
 immortal soul ! Ma foi ! God forgive us all such 
 levity ! " 
 
 " Corbleu ! Monsieur Pierre," cried Constant, 
 laughing, " I know not if Monsieur le Comte 
 is on the damnation list or no ; but this I do 
 know, that while you are preaching on his sins, 
 my best cider is flowing away down a Huguenot 
 gullet ! " 
 
 A hearty, ringing laugh greeted this sally of 
 the old steward, and Pierre, with a humorous 
 twinkle of the eye, replied — • ^ 
 
 '' Eh bien ! mes amis, we must all try to keep 
 temptation away from our weak brethren ; the 
 more old Pierre drinks of this vile liquor, so 
 much the less will there be to muddle the brain 
 of Monsieur de Pontorson — but, seriously, who 
 ever saw me the worse for liquor ? " 
 
 '' There spoke a good comrade," answered 
 Constant ; " ventre-bleu ! wine is for drinking, 
 and no one ever knew thee anything but a wiser 
 and a merrier boy for thy cups, good Pierre ; 
 for the smack of the red liquor quenches the 
 smell of the brimstone that thou carriest about 
 thee to fling at good Catholics." 
 
 The sound of wheels on the gravel outside 
 scattered the listening group of servants, who 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 hastily disposed themselves on either side of 
 the hall to receive with due formality the Comte 
 de Pontorson. The sleur himself, too, was on 
 the steps, ready to welcome his guest, who, after 
 leaving some Injunctions to his servants regard- 
 ing the four black horses, whose steaming coats 
 dimmed the light of the lanterns held by the 
 grooms, ascended the stone steps two at a time, 
 received the sieur's welcome with a smile that 
 showed a fine set of teeth and a handsome face, 
 a little aged by dissipation. 
 
 No sooner had the count entered the cha- 
 teau than the old hall, whose walls had lately 
 only echoed to subdued voices and measured 
 steps, now resounded with the loud and hearty 
 laughter of the new guest, as he disencumbered 
 himself of his rugs and wrappers. The count's 
 valet, too, bustled about his masters person 
 with an approving smile at each merry flash of 
 rough good-humour ; he cquld not help looking 
 now and then out of the corners of his laughing 
 eyes at the sieur's servants who lingered about 
 the count's luggage, as much as to say, " Yes, 
 mes braves gar^ons, here we are ! full of fun as 
 usual, and meaning to enjoy life and health, and 
 wine and viands. In spite of your Calvinistic 
 sourness;" and the spirit of good-humour
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 5 I 
 
 caught fire and spread from the grave inaitre 
 d'lwtel himself to the Httle sculler)- girl who 
 came from the kitchen to peep unseen at the 
 company. 
 
 Philippe came running downstairs to greet 
 his god-father, for so he persisted in calling the 
 count. He threw himself into the count's arms 
 and kissed him on both cheeks. 
 
 " Mon Dieu, Phil ! you grow like a girl with 
 your pale face, and blue eyes, and yellow hair : 
 and, bless my soul ! you don't weigh as much 
 as my saddle!" So saying he lifted the*boy 
 high above his head. 
 
 " I am no girl, god-father, for all that ! By- 
 the-by, where's that pony you promised to give 
 me on my birth-day ? " 
 
 '* Pony, eh ? Why, here it is, to be sure. 
 Mind you don't slip over his head ; he's rather 
 an awkward beast." 
 
 So saying, he dropped Philippe astride on 
 the back of his valet, who was stooping to 
 uncord some packages. The sudden weight ot 
 the boy made the servant lose his balance, and 
 the valet and Philippe rolled over together on 
 the floor amid general merriment. At this 
 moment a pordy figure appeared on the scene, 
 dressed in cassock and black silk stockings. 

 
 52 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 His face, which was smooth, round, and rubi- 
 cund, was just then cracked across, as if by a 
 crater, by a quiet but appreciative grin at the 
 horse-play that was going on. He approached 
 the count and saluted him with a bow, still 
 wearing the irrepressible crater from ear to 
 ear. 
 
 " Ah, Father Beauvais, quel malheur ! Hey, 
 there ! somebody fetch a surgeon ; the good 
 pere has dislocated his jaw, and will never be 
 able to say mass again with a grave face." 
 
 The pere chuckled very quietly, appearing 
 to laugh especially with his stomach, which 
 struggled dangerously against the barrier of a 
 stout cord which encircled it. At last he gasped 
 out — 
 
 " Come, my friend, you kill me ! Let me 
 lead you to your apartments. See my time- 
 piece — the cook will chide our delay ; " and he 
 led the count up the staircase. 
 
 Meanwhile, the servants were preparing sup- 
 per in the large dining-hall, which lay on the 
 left side of the entrance-hall as you entered the 
 chateau. Large flaming flambeaux affixed to 
 iron socketsin the walls redeemed the chamber 
 from darkness, and lit up with grim lines of 
 light and shade the full-length portraits of the
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 53 
 
 Cornelll family, handed down from father to 
 son. At the further end of the hall, on a dais 
 a little raised, was placed a table at right angles 
 to the large table which occupied the body of 
 the hall. This smaller table the family were 
 used to employ when the number of guests was 
 small enough to admit of it. It was now* 
 covered with a white cloth, and Jean Constant 
 had just placed the chief cover on the table, 
 and had given three pulls at a bell rope which 
 was hanging at one corner of the hall. The 
 bell, which rumour said had been abstracted by 
 the sieur's grandfather from the chapel of Mont 
 St. Michel, tolled three in the entrance hall in 
 deep collegiate tones, leaving an echo which 
 seemed to melt away into a higher note, sug- 
 gestive of far-off wailing. But this might 
 have befen fancy, for as the rafters were still 
 thrilling with the sound, the voice of the Comte 
 de Pontorson was heard loud and hearty, and 
 at the same moment he appeared, leading by 
 the hand Madame de Cornelli, arrayed in purple 
 velvet and lace. Behind them came Ethel, 
 who walked by the side of the Pere Beretti, but 
 leaving a decent interval between herself and 
 the holy father ; then came De Cornelli himself, 
 leading his daughter by the hand, and at their
 
 54 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 side, but a trifle behind them, came the worthy 
 confessor, Father Beauvais. 
 
 When they were all arranged at the table, 
 ready to take their seats, at a signal from the 
 sieur, Father Beauvais said a Latin grace, after 
 which they all crossed themselves three times, 
 "not omitting the sieur himself This action 
 was not unnoticed by Beretti, who just elevated 
 his eyebrows and busied himself with the deli- 
 cacies on the table. As he sat on the left hand 
 of madame he began to question her on the 
 condition of the poor in her district ; then she 
 gave him a glowing account of her afternoon's 
 work in a neighbouring hamlet, where the 
 substantial stone-walls of the cottages only con- 
 cealed from view the miserable squalor that 
 prevailed within. 
 
 " Ah, my father, those terrible stone-walls 
 remind me of the barriers of society ; they 
 prevent us from seeing the misery of our poor, 
 and how often debar us from feeling and ren- 
 dering sympathy ! How often would ladies in 
 our position be glad to comfort and help their 
 sisters in misfortune, if they only knew the 
 depth of la mish^e /■'' 
 
 ** Alas, madame ! the stone- wall "lies, I fear, 
 in the selfishness of the human heart ; our
 
 ASYLjJM CHRISTI. 55 
 
 court ladies turn away In disgust at the sound 
 of poverty, and your country dames, I doubt 
 not, though they know how the poor suffer, are 
 unwIlHng to trouble themselves. Ah, madame ! 
 if our Church could number many such devotees 
 as your ladyship, we should soon hear the last 
 of ' the religion.' " 
 
 Madame coloured a little, and was about to 
 deprecate the spiritual compliment, when Father 
 Beauvais, leaning across the table, cried out — 
 
 " This is the second time, madame, if you 
 will allow me to make so bold as to say so,. that 
 the baked pike has been done to cinders : in all 
 my life I never knew anything so vexatious ! It 
 is a waste of good viands, madame, which our 
 good Lady of Grace provides for us ; it is to my 
 mind almost a sin to overdo a fish of so rare 
 a quality. I marvel at the recurrence of this 
 calamity, madame." 
 
 '' Good father, I must crave your kind indul- 
 gence for the cook ; 1 sent him down to the 
 village with some broth for my poor, and supper 
 was provided by his assistants." 
 
 " I thought so, madame ; I thought so all 
 along. Ah ! when shall we learn that the meanest 
 duties are never too mean to be neglected, that 
 each has his proper, divinely appointed sphere :
 
 56 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 the cook to his fish, the lady to the ordering of 
 her chateau, the cure to his poor ; let but one 
 neglect his proper sphere and all goes wrong." 
 
 The poor lady, whose face had just been 
 glowing with pleasure at the thought of having 
 laboured for Christ and his Church, now shrank 
 into silence at the rebuke of her confessor ; her 
 eyes were filling with tears, a lump was rising 
 in her throat. Father Beretti, disgusted at the 
 sensuality of his brother priest, and ashamed 
 that the sieur should witness it, bit his lips. 
 Ethel looked across the table, and, meeting the 
 eye of the sieur, saw a gleam of humour 
 twinkling there ; she glanced at Marie, and saw 
 the dark eyebrows contracted and the pupil 
 dilating with anger. Ethel thought she knew 
 now why the lord of De T Esprit did not 
 object to the presence of Father Beauvais. As 
 for the Comte de Pontorson, he had scarcely 
 said half a dozen words all supper time, and 
 looking up with red eyes, swollen with exposure 
 to the cold or by recent libations of cider, he 
 exclaimed — 
 
 " By St. Peter ! I think the pike a very good 
 pike. Madame, I drink to your health ; I wish 
 I had as good a heart as you have. I should 
 need no Father Beauvais then. I think
 
 ASYLUM CIIRISTI. 57 
 
 sending broth to the poor is a very fine thing — 
 the straight road for heaven ; what do you say, 
 M. Je'suite ? " 
 
 The comte, as he stammered out these words, 
 extended a cup of cider to Beretti with so 
 trembHng a hand that some of the liquor fell 
 from the cup : the sieur rose and gave the 
 signal for grace, which Beauvais repeated in a 
 mumbling, discontented tone of voice. As- the 
 comte stopped to finish another cup of wine, 
 the sieur gave his hand to madame and quitted 
 the hall. The I'est followed, with the exception 
 of the comte. 
 
 *' Do we hunt to-morrow in your lord's 
 woods ? " asked the comte, again replenishing 
 his glass. 
 
 *' Assuredly, monseigneur — the huntsman has 
 orders to be in the home park at eleven ; the 
 ladies, too, will attend, and the English demoiselle 
 will ride to hounds." 
 
 '' En effet ! then must I drink no more of 
 the brown cider, Constant, lest I disgrace my 
 country." 
 
 So saying, he took his valet's arm and 
 staggered to bed.
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 CHAPTER III. • 
 
 There had been a white frost, and the gossamer 
 threads that interlaced tree with tree and made 
 the long grass a net-work of silver were shining 
 in the morning sun when the party of hunters 
 left the chateau for the rendezvous in the home 
 park. Philippe rode first, on a brown pony — he 
 had exchanged his purple doublet for one of 
 green ; the hat and the aigrette were black. 
 Maintenon bounded by his side, but the horn 
 on this occasion was not allowed, lest his ama- 
 teur too-tooings should interfere with the work- 
 ing of the hounds. After him came a carriage 
 drawn by two horses, in which were Madame de 
 Cornelli and Father Beauvais. The carriage 
 was protected by a roof above, and by curtains 
 which could be drawn at the sides; but this 
 morning they were open. Behind rode the 
 Comte de Pontorson, also dressed in a doublet
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 59 
 
 of green, and at his side rode Marie on her 
 white palfrey, wearing a black sash crossed over 
 one shoulder, which contrasted prettily with the 
 green riding-dress that almost touched the 
 ground. The sieur rode next on a powerful 
 chestnut, and it needed all his strength to keep 
 it from breaking away. 
 
 Ethel rode a line black mare, one of the 
 sieur's own breeding ; she was the only one 
 of the party not dressed in green, for though 
 Marie had offered to lend her a hunting suit, 
 she had refused it with a kind of horror, ^s 
 being too gaudy, and had chosen a skirt of 
 black. The sieur looked a little nervously 
 towards her at starting, not feeling sure whether 
 the black mare, which was a young one, would 
 not be too much for the gouvernante. But the 
 light, firm hand and easy seat which she dis- 
 played at the first playful bound of her steed 
 set him at ease on that score. 
 
 Behind their master rode Pierre and four 
 grooms, carrying the materials for lunch, and 
 leading two fresh horses. Pierre was this morn- 
 ing unusually light-hearted, and with difficulty 
 subdued the tones of his voice to a half-audible 
 murmur. He was chanting, this merry spring 
 morning ; but his chaunt was not of the usual
 
 6o ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 pious ring, but seemed to be of a merry friar 
 who robbed the Church and rode a-hunting. 
 One of the grooms had the ill-luck to interrupt 
 him in the middle of a stanza — 
 
 " Parbleu ! Monsieur Pierre, we shall soon 
 be riding to church ! See you how the young 
 mistress pairs off with the gay gallant yonder ? " 
 
 " Fi done ! Fi done ! What an arrant ass 
 thou art to speak so loud, even in thy master's 
 hearing ! I vow thou hast tempted me to make 
 use of some ill-mouthed oath,' thou scurvy 
 varlet ! What canst thou know of ladies and 
 gallants ? — thou that wast born in a pig-stye 
 and bred amongst Breton goats ! Now, hark 
 ye, Master Francois, just to put an embargo 
 on that clattering tongue of thine, I will throw 
 a ray of light on thy clouded understanding. 
 Why, thou Jack-fool ! didst not see last night 
 how my lord plied Monseigneur le Comte with 
 his strong cider ? Do men make their guests 
 drunk in order to set them off to the best 
 advantage ? or, dost think Mademoiselle Marie 
 would like a suitor any the better for making 
 a beast of himself in her presence ? Faugh ! 
 mon Frangois, thou must to school again, I 
 fear." 
 
 " Ah, Monsieur Pierre, thou speakest like a
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 6 1 
 
 priest — glib and unintelligible. Thou art like 
 a mass-book, where all Is Latin ; thou shouldst 
 have been a cure thyself, for thou canst throw 
 in a mass of arguments enough to bewilder a 
 whole parish — thou art too clever for poor 
 Francois, who, for .his part, would give his best 
 cider to the man who was going to marry his 
 daughter, and if he got drunk on it, why, 
 would look upon it as a compliment to the 
 cellar." 
 
 '* Ay, thou speakest after the fashion of the 
 kitchen, where guzzling and drinking are ,the 
 main pleasures of life, and where a little excess, 
 more or less, is lightly atoned for by the finger- 
 ing of your beads. But know, for all that, 
 Master Francois, that thou wilt surely be 
 damned ! " 
 
 This sally of temper and theology on the 
 part of Pierre only raised a bitter smile on the 
 part of the grooms, who had been pressing 
 round to listen to the discussion. They were 
 Catholics ; but a full license of speech was always 
 allowed old Pierre, on the ground of his master s 
 favour, and his many good qualities. 
 
 Meanwhile the cavalcade had reached a part 
 of the forest where the ground had been cleared 
 of trees, and a farm-house and a few stacks
 
 62 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 redeemed the solitude of the spot. On the 
 greensward in front of the cottage was gathered 
 a group of the sieur's huntsmen, some on foot 
 and some mounted, and lying on the grass or 
 rolling over one another were clustered the 
 hounds that were to find sport for the day. 
 They were not all of one breed, for the stag- 
 hound was mixed with a sort of beagle, while 
 three or four smooth terriers were held in 
 leashes by the huntsmen. A few rustics in 
 their blue blouses were attracted to the meet, 
 and except these the field was strictly confined 
 to the members of the sieur's household. 
 
 All uncovered respectfully as the sieur and 
 his party approached ; and after a few words 
 of greeting to the old man who hobbled out 
 on crutches to the door of the cottage, the sieur 
 raised his hat, and the head-huntsman unslung 
 his horn. But in the mean time there seemed 
 to be some strong manifestations of feeling on 
 the part of the hounds, who were encircling and 
 keeping at bay some creature in their midst. 
 Ethel and Philippe rode up to the scene of the 
 imeute, and beheld Maintenon standing with his 
 head and tail thrown up, and with a look of 
 ineffable disdain thrown into his whole body; 
 which feeling, however, was shown to be a
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 63 
 
 youthful affectation by the careful outlook he 
 maintained from the corners of his eyes. The 
 hounds were evidently somewhat suspicious of 
 the gigantic intruder, who growled a low and 
 lordly growl, as much as to say, ' Touch me if 
 you dare.' At the first blast of the horn Main- 
 tenon was released from the curious sniffs of 
 his inquisitors, who broke away over the beady 
 turf with quivering tails and lowered heads. 
 For some time they rode up and down the 
 numerous avenues in the forest, some of which 
 were wide enough for the carriage to follgw, 
 others again so narrow that the riders could 
 only proceed in single file. Sometimes they 
 came out into open spaces, glades between the 
 forests of greensward, and again they would 
 enter a dark plantation of fir, where there was 
 no underwood to impede the riders, and the 
 sandy soil yielded and the fallen branches 
 cracked under the hoofs of the hunters. 
 
 " Does not this remind you of your cathe- 
 drals at home, mademoiselle?" said the sieur 
 to Ethel, as he pointed to the long, columnar 
 row of pines and the boughs that overarched 
 them ; then, speaking solemnly, he added — 
 
 "This is my church. Here I love to wander 
 alone and commune with the God of Nature, of
 
 64 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 Peace, of Love ; here I can lift up my heart to 
 God and give free utterance to the thoughts 
 that rise within me, and feel that I am talking 
 direct to my Father — that there is no iron hand 
 of authority drawn across rny lips to smother 
 the thoughts which are truth to me because I 
 feel them true. Yes, mademoiselle, it is here 
 only — in the still and unfrequented haunts of the 
 wild fox and the stag — that I can feel that no 
 human figure stands between me and my 
 Heavenly Father, commanding me to believe 
 this doctrine, and to reject that, under pain of 
 eternal punishment. See how yon sunlight 
 glints through the thick branches of the pine 
 forest, and silvers the gnarled roots sparsely 
 here and there. So the divine light filters 
 through the cumbersome overgrowth of human 
 tradition and Church ceremonial ; but give me 
 the clear sunlight full upon^ my face, beating 
 direct from the throne of God upon the natural 
 instincts of my heart ! Yea ! I will stand and 
 gaze upon it, though its very brightness blind 
 me. 
 
 " I thought," answered Ethel, ''that the 
 French Reformed were very much under the 
 spiritual guidance of Calvin." 
 
 " Ah ! you strike home there, mademoiselle.
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 65 
 
 It Is too true that our brethren of the Reformed 
 have exchanged the authority of Rome for that 
 of Geneva ; they have shaken their consciences 
 fjree of the Pope only to bind them beneath the 
 sway of a French lawyer. However, we cannot 
 expect slaves to be fit for freedom at a blow ; 
 much has been gained to them by the exchange 
 of masters, and we must leave it to time, 
 education, the fuller knowledge of Christ, to do 
 the rest." 
 
 " Then, monsieur, you do not rank yourself 
 with the Calvinists ? " said Ethel, who was 
 curious to know what were the opinions of her 
 companion. 
 
 '' With them, certainly ; of them, no ! I will 
 strike with them for freedom, for liberty of con- 
 science, and the Bible, but I will not be com- 
 pelled to follow them in their narrow dogmatism 
 on questions not religious." 
 
 At this moment there was a rustling in the 
 greenwood, and a gallant stag bounded out into 
 the clear forest and was gone in a few seconds ; 
 at the same time the deep bell-tones of an old 
 hound proclaimed the fact to the whole pack, 
 and from all sides the dogs came pushing 
 through the brushwood, casting about beneath 
 the fir-trees for the scent, and suddenly sweep- 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 ing into the traces of the stag, as a stream of 
 water is swept into a sloping channel. De 
 Cornelli sounded a blast on his horn — " They 
 are off! dare you follow, or will you return to 
 the ladies ? " 
 
 Ethel had no time to answer, for the black 
 mare had made her decision as soon as she 
 caught sight of the hounds, and would not be 
 gainsaid. It was rather nervous work thread- 
 ing in and out amongst the firs ; but fortunately 
 they grew thinner and thinner, and now day- 
 light could be seen ahead, and something which 
 looked like a hedge as they approached it. Ethel 
 saw that the carriage had already drawn up ; the 
 comte and Marie, too, were reining in their 
 horses, and two servants in livery were trying 
 to make a gap in the hedge. They shouted as 
 the sieur and Ethel approached, and pointed to 
 the hedge in a deprecating way ; De Cornelli 
 seemed to waver, and was pulling in, when the 
 black mare, with a little scream of defiance, shot 
 ahead and took the fence in fine style. An 
 exclamation of wonder and relief broke from 
 the little group beside the hedge, who had 
 looked to see a catastrophe. Cornelli himself, 
 with a " Mon Dieu ! " followed in Ethel's wake ; 
 the comte, whose French pride was touched by
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 67 
 
 the superior riding of the demoiselle Anglaise, 
 craved permission to leave the ladies, and the 
 powerful stride of his hunter soon laid him 
 alongside the other two. 
 
 For more than a mile the three rode at a 
 hand-gallop over an undulating expanse of 
 furze-patched grass, with no obstacles to sur- 
 mount, save now and then a tiny stream ; the 
 hounds were a good half mile in front, though 
 there were several stragglers labouring far in 
 the rear ; the huntsman's horn rang out in- 
 cessantly and distinctly in the clear air, mak'ing 
 the shepherd stand agape as he leaned on his 
 crook, and the girl pause in her spinning and 
 forget the brindled cow she came out to tend. 
 But at length the furze and the broom and the 
 green carpet over which the horses sprang with 
 so buoyant a step came to an end, and the 
 ground beyond them began to spread out like a 
 patch-work counterpane, yellow and green and 
 red. Away pounded the count through clover 
 and carrots, trifolium and the tender wheat, his 
 eyes fixed on the now straggling pack and the 
 stag which staggered not many paces in front of 
 the leading hound. But not so rode the Sieur 
 de Cornelli, who, shouting in vain to his guest 
 to avoid the cultured crops, had directed Ethel
 
 68 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 to follow him by a slight ddtour where a cart- 
 track led through the cultivated plots. 
 
 " They are the property of the poor cottiers ; 
 let us avoid the plots." 
 
 " I see a village," cried Ethel, '' and the stag 
 seems to have run into a farm-yard ; see, what 
 a crowd of people ! " 
 
 And the two rode down a gentle slope, the 
 foam breaking from the nostrils of their steeds 
 and floating away behind them, or splashing the 
 rider with occasional flakes. They were nearing 
 the little cluster of farm-house and cottages. The 
 hounds were braying round the chief entrance, 
 the door of which seemed to be shut, and the 
 huntsmen were struggling, whip in hand, to 
 keep the pack off ; a crowd of men, women, and 
 children were gesticulating and shouting and 
 laughing ; furniture lay scattered about on the 
 grass on all sides ; a man, a woman, and four 
 little children, sat moodily, in strange contrast to 
 the noisy excitement of the rest, upon the boxes 
 that were piled up, or lay chaotic amongst 
 supine tables and horizontal chairs. As the 
 sieur's horse clattered on the stones that paved 
 the road in front of the house there was a 
 momentary hush of voices, and caps were 
 doffed and curtseys dropped ; then an old
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 69 
 
 man, stepping forward, explained, in a hurried 
 manner — 
 
 " Excuse me, monseig-'neur, we are selling off 
 to-day the goods of ce monsieur la has — he who 
 sits on yon boxes ; eh, bien ! what do we hear 
 but your lordship's horn sounding over the hill- 
 side, and then tout a coup comes your lordship's 
 stag, right into the centre of the ring, knocks 
 down his majesty's servant, who was conducting 
 the sale, and vanishes into the farm-house. 
 Ah ! monseigneur, mais c'est si drole ! " 
 
 " Et apres ? The stag, where is it now ? " 
 asked Cornelli. 
 
 " Ah ! the stag ! that is what I was going to 
 tell monseigneur." 
 
 At this point the pent-up feelings of the 
 listening crowd could be contained no longer ; a 
 fury " of babbling tongues lashed out in explan- 
 ation of the consequences, and so clamorous 
 were the crowd in their eagerness to tell the 
 story, that it was impossible to understand their 
 meaning; only the words, ''Pasteur" — ''laporte 
 fermee," were repeated again and again. 
 
 " Gently, my friends, gently, if you please — - 
 one at a time. Come, Master Andre, keep 
 thy good people quiet, and tell me all about 
 it."
 
 70 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 The person addressed, a little man in a 
 braided military coat and cocked hat, who was 
 there to represent the kings justice — the tax- 
 collector and public functionary of the district — 
 now stepped forward and rang a little hand-bell, 
 crying, in a shrill voice — • 
 
 '* Messieurs et mesdames, grand silence ! 
 Monseigneur wishes to hear the true account of 
 the lost stag. Silence there, you boys ! how 
 dare you laugh in the . face of his majesty's 
 collector of taxes ! " 
 
 This last remark was uttered with some 
 warmth to a group of gamins, who, forgetting 
 the proper respect due to a government official, 
 were imitating the cries of various animals in a 
 low tone of voice. Then, bringing his hand 
 up to the military salute, M. Andre, red with 
 anger and swollen with self-importance, began 
 to speak — 
 
 " Monseigneur will pardon me if I call his 
 attention to this battered hat and soiled coat, 
 the result of a severe blow from monseigneur s 
 stag." 
 
 Here a smile passed over the faces in the 
 crowd, like a gleam of sunshine gliding over a 
 field of wheat ; and it was curious to observe 
 how those immediately in front of the officer
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 7 1 
 
 tried to conceal it by coughing and rubbing 
 their chins. 
 
 '* Monseigneur will take notice that I, Jean 
 Andre, am here to-day to fulfil a government 
 duty — however unpleasant to myself, yet neces- 
 sary to the interests of the State ; and it cannot 
 be allowed that sympathy with the evicted cottier 
 should endanger the life of his majesty's ser- 
 vants, lawfully engaged in a necessary yet 
 painful duty." 
 
 '' Saint Michael and all the holy angels ! " 
 broke in the Comte de Pontorson, slapping^ his 
 riding-boot with the long handle of his whip. 
 '' What the devil do we care about you and your 
 dirty grievances ! Produce the stag, man, if you 
 haven't eaten it, or I'll quicken your intelli- 
 gence ! " 
 
 De Cornelli interposed in a courteous manner 
 between the impatient nobleman and the as- 
 tounded tax-collector, observing — 
 
 " I am equally anxious with Monseigneur the 
 Comte de Pontorson to learn quickly what you 
 have done with the poor beast." 
 
 At the mention of the count's name there 
 was a stir of surprise and several hats were 
 raised. Andre was about to answer, when an 
 upper window was flung open in the old farm-
 
 72 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 house, and a grey-headed old man, attired In 
 black, and wearing large Geneva bands round 
 his neck, leaned half out, and waving his hand, 
 said, in a deep, quiet voice — 
 
 " It is I, monseigneur, who have shut the 
 door against your huntsmen, and have hitherto 
 saved the life of a poor hunted beast. In the 
 name of the God of Mercy, I ask you to deliver 
 from death a creature that hath shown wit 
 enough to fly for shelter to a human habitation." 
 
 A scornful laugh burst from the bystanders ; 
 the huntsmen gave vent to indignant murmurs ; 
 the count uttered an oath. 
 
 Ethel looked at the sieur, and seemed to 
 plead for the stag. 
 
 The gamins were muttering between their 
 teeth, ''A bas les pasteurs ! '' 
 
 This saved the life of the poor beast. De 
 Cornelli, glancing round with flashing eyes, 
 ordered silence on pain of instant imprison- 
 ment. 
 
 '' I will not allow the officer of the Intendant 
 to be interrupted in his duty. Let the sale re- 
 commence — huntsmen, draw off your dogs. 
 Monsieur la Rose, your plea for mercy is 
 heard. Monseigneur, I am sorry the days 
 sport has come to so sudden a termination, but
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 73 
 
 you will allow that we have given you a good 
 gallop." 
 
 The comte laughed and shrugged his shoul- 
 ders, and drawing from his pocket a pipe of 
 tobacco, proceeded to strike a light on a flint, 
 which he carried suspended on the chain 
 which also guarded a gold chronometer. The 
 process of striking a light and kindling the 
 tobacco was watched with curious interest by 
 the peasants, to whom tobacco was as yet an 
 unknown luxury. Meanwhile the pasteur had 
 come out of the cottage, and was engaged in 
 conversation with the Sieur de Cornelli. 
 
 He was a tall, thin, but apparently vigorous old 
 man, and his white hair, which flowed in long 
 curls beneath the broad-brimmed chapeati, made 
 him look older than he really was. His face, 
 when in repose, was somewhat stern, seared 
 with numerous curving lines about the mouth, 
 and embrowned by constant exposure to the 
 weather. Two dark lines running where the 
 whiskers usually grow showed that an occasional 
 use of the razor was resorted to ; when the old 
 man smiled, his face ran itself readily into the 
 said curving lines, like a jelly into a mould, 
 showing that the merry view of life had been 
 constant enough to photograph itself upon his 
 features.
 
 74 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 Presently, as Andre was holding up a mirror 
 for the inspection of purchasers, De Cornelli 
 advanced and said — 
 
 " Monsieur Jean Andre, it is now needless for 
 you to go on with the sale of Guillebert's pro- 
 perty, for in consequence of statements which 
 have been made to me by Monsieur le Pasteur" 
 — as the sieur paused a minute to look round, 
 the assembled peasants and tradesmen shuffled 
 closer, old men sheltered the wind from their 
 ears with eager lifting of the hand, and some 
 turned to beckon to the forlorn group that 
 squatted amongst the ddbris of furniture — 
 '* In consequence of those statements, I repeat, 
 and in sincere sympathy for our poor friend 
 Guillebert, who, I presume you are all aware, is 
 reduced to this distress by no fault of his, but 
 simply and solely from the unjust and shameful 
 method of taxation which prevails in this un- 
 fortunate country, whereby the whole burden is 
 laid upon the working-classes — I say, in conse- 
 quence of this injustice I, the Sieur de Cornelli, 
 as seigneur of this district, deem it my duty to 
 share and lighten the burden of taxation which 
 presses so heavily on the cultivators of the soil. 
 I therefore discharge the debt due by Guillebert 
 to the State, and call upon you, my friends, to
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 75 
 
 do your part by restoring to the owner the 
 several articles you may already have bought at 
 the sale. You have my word for it that no one 
 shall suffer any loss in this matter." 
 
 With difficulty had the last few words been 
 listened to, so eager had the crowd become to 
 applaud the generous and unexpected speech of 
 the sieur ; but when at last he paused, hats and 
 vivats were thrown into the air, and foilr or five 
 stalwart young men ran to fetch Guillebert to 
 his benefactor. 
 
 Meanwhile Pierre held his master's stirrup 
 whilst he dismounted, but there was a look of 
 mild disapproval in the old servitor's face, as 
 he managed to whisper, " Excuse me, does 
 monseigneuf not know that this Guillebert here 
 is a bigoted Catholic ? Is it possible ? " 
 
 And now there came, dragged along by a 
 crowd of congratulating peasants, the unfortu- 
 nate owner of the farm-house. He was a head 
 taller than any one else, and stout in proportion; 
 his dress was that of a peasant ; he wore a long- 
 blouse reaching nearly to the knee, his legs 
 were encased in tight-fitting gaiters, his head 
 was bare. He did not show any signs of joy 
 at the news his friends had brought him ; his 
 aspect was that of a man whom misfortune had
 
 76 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 crushed, and whose wits were not keen enough 
 to grasp so sudden a turn of fortune. He came 
 up to his patron with an uncertain step and 
 dazed eyes, made his bow, and began to 
 stammer out some excuse for his misfortunes. 
 
 " Ah ! monseigneur, my family have held this 
 little farm for three generations — three genera- 
 tions ! and it is I who have disgraced my name. 
 Yet, monseigneur, I should have kept my head 
 above water, if they had not assessed me far 
 beyond my means. And then, again, it was the 
 confiscation of my last year's growth of cider, 
 because my head-labourer stole the money I 
 gave him to pay the king's dues. Ah ! that 
 was the blow that first made me tremble. . You 
 see, my friends, I had no money to buy manure 
 for my land, nothing to pay the taille from — et 
 puis, monseigneur^ the tax-collector has sold all. 
 And what is to become of poor Jeanne and the 
 children ? " 
 
 The strong man burst into tears and buried 
 his face in his hands. There were many soiled 
 handkerchiefs applied to wet eyes in sympathy 
 with the honest cottier, and a few moments 
 of silence followed, only broken by the sobs of 
 the women. At length De Cornelli, placing his 
 hand on the shoulder of Guillebert, who stood 
 looking on the ground, said — ■
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. "]"] 
 
 " Come, come, my friend, don't give way to 
 despair ! Your name, your honour, is not tar- 
 nished in Normandy. What though the king's 
 ministers have made the taxes too heavy for 
 some of us to bear ! Remember, my friends, 
 all of you who are here, that there are two 
 classes in the social order who pay no taxes — 
 the clergy and the nobility. It is the duty — yea, 
 it is the proud privilege — of these two orders to 
 come to the assistance of those who are over- 
 burdened. Guillebert, you and I are both free 
 Normans ; accept, then, the help it is my 4uty 
 to render you. Nay, man, do not kneel to thank 
 me; in God's sight we are equal, and it is in 
 the name of God's justice that I pay your debts 
 and restore to you, your wife^ and children, and 
 this farm unencumbered." 
 
 Gruillebert was on his knees, sobbing and 
 kissing the sieur's hand. '* It is too kind, too 
 forgiving, monseigneur, after the annoyance and 
 opposition I have always raised against my 
 lord. I shall never forget it — no, never ! Here, 
 Jeanne, my sweet, bring the little ones and 
 thank monseigneur for all his goodness." 
 
 Then the wife came with the corner of her 
 white apron in her eye, crying and laughing by 
 turns, while two little girls of ^m^ and six years,
 
 78 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 whom she led by the hand, were looking up 
 intently and watching the varying changes of 
 their mother's face, and imitating the laughter 
 and the tears with accurate fidelity. They were 
 evidently impressed with the gravity of the 
 occasion, determined not to be more than a few 
 seconds behindhand in the expression of their 
 feelings ; but what those feelings meant, or why 
 they were evoked, was beyond their tiny ken. 
 However, all were soon merrily at work re- 
 placing the furniture in the house. 
 
 The carriage had by this time driven up with 
 madame and Father Beauvais ; Marie, too, had 
 rejoined Ethel, and there was quite a gay 
 assembly chatting and laughing over the merry 
 turn of circumstances. 
 
 ''A day commenced after the flesh, with 
 hunting and worldly thoughts of pleasure, com- 
 pleted after the Spirit, with a work of Christian 
 charity," said a voice near the carriage. 
 
 Madame turned, and recognized the aged 
 Protestant pasteur with a formal bend of the 
 head. The old man made a low and respectful 
 bow, and, approaching the confessor, said, in a 
 whisper — 
 
 " Pardon me, M. Beauvais, if I interfere in 
 this matter; but monseigneur has been led to
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 79 
 
 Speak of the duties of the clergy and of the 
 harshness of the king's ministers somewhat too 
 boldly, perhaps ; and — but you will pardon me, 
 I know — I have just seen one of your priests, 
 in disguise, running off with his account of it, 
 no doubt, into Coutances." 
 
 " Thank you, M. le Pasteur," replied Father 
 Beauvais, nodding his head and indulging in an 
 unclerical wink at his heretical friend ; '' thank 
 you for your caution ; I will see the wretch does 
 no mischief" 
 
 ** What says the pasteur ? " inquired madame, 
 haughtily. 
 
 " Oh ! ah ! why — a — he thinks the Guilleberts 
 will want a little ready money, without doubt." 
 
 " To be sure, my father ; make a memo- 
 randum of it, lest I forget. These people are 
 good Catholics, I believe. What does Monsieur 
 la Rose amongst them ? Ma foi ! this acquittal 
 should have come from me." 
 
 " Oh, fear not that monseigneur will make 
 converts of them ; that is not his role. Strange ! 
 how he lives the life of Christ, in all respects 
 save in obeying and conforming to His Church. 
 He is all charity, and nothing else ! " 
 
 '' Ah ! it is very, very sad ! " sighed madame, 
 turning away to hide a tear.
 
 8o ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 On the evening of the day we have just de- 
 scribed, there was a bright fire blazing in the 
 private study of Monseigneur the Bishop of 
 Coutances. The red curtains had been carefully 
 drawn across the windows to exclude the chill 
 night air, a heavy piece of antique tapestry hung 
 on a brass rod and intercepted intruding breezes 
 from the door, and the ponderous tomes that 
 filled the book-cases on three sides of the 
 chamber gave forth a genial glimmer from their 
 burly backs, lettered with gold. The table 
 which filled the centre of the room was littered 
 with manuscripts and bundles of letters tied 
 together with tape ; some were lying torn upon 
 the polished oak floor, together with the string 
 by which they had been tied. On the chimney- 
 piece stood a chronometer ; it was the model of 
 a cathedral, and a solitary hand on the dial in 
 one of the towers gave notice of the march of 
 minutes, and left the observer to discover the 
 hour for himself. Seated in a large arm-chair 
 by the fire, with a small round table by his side, 
 was a priest of about forty-five years ; his hair 
 was raven black, his face close shaven, his fore- 
 head high, the nose aquiline, the mouth curved. 
 It would have been a handsome face had the 
 cheeks not been somewhat sunken, and the
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 8 1 
 
 brow contracted into a perpetual frown by study. 
 As it was, the fine, well-cut features, and kind, 
 melancholy expression made it an interesting 
 face. At this moment the bishop, for he it was, 
 with both elbows on the table, was perusing 
 a letter he had just written ; he proceeded to 
 fold it up, and was holding a wax taper in one 
 hand and a lump of wax in the other when a 
 tap was heard at the door. At the bishop's 
 bidding a young boy entered, clad in a long 
 serge robe. 
 
 " There is a priest without, monseigneur, ^ho 
 would speak with you ; he is a Benedictine — 
 one of those who came from Paris with Father 
 Beretti." 
 
 *' It is late for such a visitor ; however, bid 
 him enter, dear boy ; " and the bishop, perhaps 
 with some idea of adding an appearance of age, 
 hastily placed on his head a black skull-cap. 
 
 A monk tjien entered the bishop's apartment, 
 thrusting aside the tapestry and peering in 
 cautiously before entering. He saluted the 
 bishop. 
 
 " Good evening, Brother Francis, you find 
 me busy with my papers to-night." 
 
 " I am sorry to interrupt monseigneur, but I 
 bring a letter of importance." 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 So saying, he fumbled in a pouch that was 
 attached to his girdle ; as he did so, the dark 
 lustrous eyes of the bishop seemed to scan him 
 through and through. His face, pitted with the 
 small-pox and covered with red blotches, his 
 straight brown hair, his deep-set, inquisitively 
 restless eyes, his thick lips and massive chin, all 
 came under episcopal scrutiny ; and the curving 
 lines of the bishop's mouth grew straighter and 
 straighter, and the melancholy tenderness of his 
 gaze seemed to be changing into a look of con- 
 centrated firmness, as he watched the Benedic- 
 tine unfold his letter. 
 
 '' Ah ! " exclaimed the bishop, as he ran his 
 eye over the letter ; " a few lines from our friend 
 Beretti, to tell me you have an affair of weight 
 to disclose." 
 
 " Precisely, M. I'Eveque ; — something that 
 concerns your own diocese." 
 
 " Pray take that seat, Brother Francis ; I am 
 listening." 
 
 The monk glanced round the room and began 
 with downcast eyes : — 
 
 '* An errand of mercy, monseigneur, had 
 carried me into the neighbourhood of a farm 
 belonging to Monsieur Guillebert, a staunch 
 Catholic, as is well known. To my surprise, I
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 53 
 
 noticed a large crowd gathered In front of the 
 house, and on approaching, I discovered that 
 Monsieur Andre was selHng off the cottier's 
 effects for debts due to the king. Almost at 
 that moment the Sleur de I'Esprlt, M. de Cor- 
 nelll, a Huguenot, as monselgneur well knows, 
 began to make a violent speech against the 
 king's ministers and the members of our holy 
 order, accusing the former of Injustice and the 
 latter of Indifference to their duty ; and the more 
 to inflame the people, he on the spot offered to 
 pay all Gulllebert's debts — an offer which,, of 
 course, drew forth the vivats of the Catholics 
 present — and — and — I think I need not say 
 more to convince monselgneur of the evil ten- 
 dency which " 
 
 " Brother Francis, you have said quite enough. 
 There are not many priests like you, I believe, 
 in my diocese " 
 
 " Pardon me, monselgneur, I cannot listen to 
 words of praise ; my vows " 
 
 " Ma foi ! you interrupt me ! " replied the 
 bishop, In a sharp tone, which made the smiling, 
 self-complacent features of the monk change on 
 a sudden to an expression of cunning watchful- 
 ness ; he now glanced sideways at the fire. 
 " Answer me one or two questions, brother, and
 
 84 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 take care you speak as accurately as if you were 
 making your confession : now, first, on what 
 errand of mercy were you employed this morn- 
 ing when you drew near this sale ? " 
 
 The Benedictine looked up surprised, fumbled 
 with his crucifix, and said nothing. 
 
 The bishop slowly took a letter from a packet 
 which lay on the table, and read aloud — 
 
 " ' A M. le Secretaire Intime de I'Eveque — 
 The Sieur of Mont-Vert has the honour to invite 
 the bishop's secretary to a ddjeuner at eleven 
 o'clock to meet the Benedictine Frere Francis.' 
 Were you there, brother ? " 
 
 "• I was, monseigneur, but " 
 
 "• Excuse me," interrupted the bishop, and 
 rang a silver hand-bell. 
 
 " Send M. le Secretaire to me at once, if you 
 please." 
 
 In a few minutes appeared a little priest in 
 large tortoise-shell spectacles. 
 
 '' At what time did you and Brother Francis 
 leave the ddjemier this morning ? " 
 
 '' I left at one, and Brother Francis remained, 
 as he was, he said, at leisure." 
 
 *' I thank you — that will do ; " and the secre- 
 tary bowed and retired. 
 
 The bishop took up another letter ; it was
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 85 
 
 from Father Beauvais, giving an account of the 
 sale, and the exact words used by De CornelH, 
 and stating the precise time, '' half-past one." 
 
 '' So much, Brother Francis, for your errand of 
 mercy ! A party of pleasure, and on your road 
 home, I presume, the espionnage — but, sir, the 
 one lie shakes your credit as to the testimony to 
 the violent language of the sleur ; let us see ! " 
 and the bishop read aloud Father Beauvais's 
 letter. 
 
 " I hope, brother," he resumed, " you do not 
 include all the clergy In your damnatory con- 
 clusions. You observe that what the sleur said 
 was, * It Is the duty — yea, the proud privilege — 
 of the clergy to help the over-burdened ; ' and 
 what you report Is, ' he accused the clergy of 
 indifference to their duty.' Now, brother, It may 
 be that a stricken conscience, brooding over the 
 sieur's words, may have led to an involuntary 
 mis-statement " 
 
 ''It was that, monselgneur, it was that ! " 
 eagerly broke in the monk. 
 
 '' Oh, very well ! then you escape the terrible 
 charge of a double lie, but you confess to bear- 
 ing a conscience so convinced of neglect of 
 religious duties, that the very messages of truth 
 you hear from other men's lips become trans-
 
 86 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 muted in your sinful, worldly heart, into 
 messages of hate and falsehood. Ah, brother, 
 brother ! when will you learn that he who fights 
 with the weapons of this world shall perish by 
 those weapons ! You have been tempted — 
 tempted by a feeling of esprit de co7ps— to com- 
 mit two grievous sins : you have played the 
 devil's part, and have slandered a good man — 
 nay ! start not ; heretic though he be, the Sieur 
 de Cornelli is a good man. Go ! pray God to 
 give you a new heart, and a deeper love of 
 truth ; it is not a cowl or a tonsure that keeps 
 us unspotted. Go ! cleanse thine house of its 
 demons of malice and falsehood, and may our 
 Lady intercede for thee with Him who reads our 
 hearts !" 
 
 The Benedictine turned a baffled look to his 
 superior and quitted the room. When, a few 
 minutes after this, an old lady wearing a tall 
 Norman cap entered the study with a bowl of 
 smoking botdllon, she found the bishop on his 
 knees beside the table, his crucifix grasped 
 tightly between his folded hands, his head sunk 
 on the table. 
 
 She placed the soup near him, and stole on 
 tip-toe to the fire, glancing round nervously at 
 times to the kneeling figure.
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. ?>'J 
 
 The bishop, absorbed in prayer, noticed 
 nothing — it was a struggle with Satan, that 
 prayer of his ! Sobs and convulsive cries shook 
 his whole frame ; sometimes words escaped him 
 — '' ' And they all forsook Him, and fled.' Oh ! 
 non, non, jamais, mon Seigneur, forsake not 
 thy church — oh ! for peace, for charity ! " And 
 the sobs and prayer at last ended in a passion- 
 ate burst of tears. 
 
 The old lady went to him, and put her arm 
 round his neck. *'Tenez, mon fils, mon cher 
 fils ! thy prayer is heard ; trust in the good God. 
 There, there, put thy poor head on thy mother's 
 breast ; there, poor boy, on thy mother's breast, 
 and I mine on the good Lord's." And so the 
 good old lady rocked him, like a child, on her 
 breast, till the convulsive sobs ceased, and 
 stroking her face he fell into a sweet forgetful- 
 ness of all his troubles.
 
 88 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The morning of Marie's fete-day awoke with a 
 wreath of mist and fog, through which the sun 
 now and then thrust a red, inquisitive face, as if 
 to see how things were going on. The head- 
 gardener was standing on the high terrace 
 which overlooked the gardens and their slopes, 
 and by his side was old Pierre, apparently 
 giving his opinion on the weather, and pointing 
 to gleams of sunshine which came slanting 
 down and touched the tops of the highest 
 poplars. 
 
 Lower down, on the level lawn, were men 
 engaged in setting up swings and tents, and 
 flag-staffs bearing gay banners and fluttering 
 flags ; and at one end of the lawn was a rustic 
 throne for the Queen of Beauty, who should 
 give the guerdon of valour to the conqueror In 
 the mimic tournament ; on the left rose the
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 89 
 
 maze, Its tiny hedges draped with colours, Its 
 summit surmounted with the great flag bearing 
 the Cornelll arms. 
 
 Marie, In her rose-coloured peignoir, was 
 gazing from her bed-room window at the pre- 
 parations which were being made to celebrate 
 her birthday. On her toilet-table lay some of 
 the presents sent In before she was awake by 
 the hands of her maid. There was a necklace 
 of pearls from her mother, a silver-tipped 
 ridlng-whip from Philippe, an Illuminated Bible 
 from her father, and two or three souvenirs 
 from the old servants, who took this opportunity 
 of showing their respectful affection for their 
 young mistress. There was a little oll-palnting, 
 too, of the old church of St. L6, with a company 
 of marines In the fore-ground, and a gallant 
 officer, about three times the size of his men, 
 whose face was prudently turned away — this was 
 Ethel's gift ; and lastly, there was a beautiful 
 little casket, gold enamelled, with '' M. de C." 
 painted In blue letters on the top — the " un- 
 worthy contribution of Adolphe, Comte de 
 Pontorson." . 
 
 Marie's heart was light, as every French- 
 woman's Is on the day of her fete. She was 
 humming to herself a light refrain, when a tap
 
 90 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 on the door startled her into silence, and 
 madame, entering, threw herself affectionately 
 into her daughter's arms, and kissed her again 
 and again. After a few words of congratulation 
 had passed, the comte's casket caught madame's 
 eye, and, with a gesture of perhaps feigned 
 surprise, she took it up and turned it round and 
 about, and called it " mighty fine." 
 
 " I am sorry he has sent it, mamma ; I shall 
 return it." 
 
 '* Return it, mon enfant ? I cannot hear of such 
 a thing ! it would be extremely impolite, and it 
 w^ould look like affectation in one who has 
 known Adolphe from her childhood. Why, 
 Marie, you are but seventeen to-day ; you should 
 not think of such things." 
 
 *' Ma foi ! it is Monsieur le Comte who puts 
 such things in my head ; he was talking non- 
 sense and flattering me all that day we were 
 out with the hounds." 
 
 ''He was ? " cried madame, flushing with 
 excitement ; *' then why did you not tell your 
 mother at once, you naughty one ?" 
 
 " I thought it of no consequence," replied 
 Marie, tossing her head. 
 
 " Girls so young as you are can be no fit 
 judges of what is important. I have known
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 9 1 
 
 great mischief follow from secrets between 
 mother and daughter." 
 
 '' Eh bien, ma mere ! one day when we were 
 out walking, M. le Comte suddenly fell on his 
 knees before me, and I ran away." 
 
 *' Bah ! that was just like you again. You 
 should have given him a hearing." 
 
 '' I shall not marry at all," and Marie began 
 to show symptoms of tears. 
 
 ''Oh, Marie, darling, forgive me if I have been 
 brusque with you ; but you know marriage can- 
 not happen often in one lifetime, and one raust 
 needs be prudent." 
 
 " Mais, mamma, you ran away with papa 
 against her Majesty's wishes." 
 
 " Yes, my darling, but your papa was so 
 clever and good, and a " 
 
 ''A Huguenot!" said Marie archly, with a 
 tell-tale blush. 
 
 Madame de Cornelli, having nothing to say 
 in answer to this unexpected checkmate, bit 
 her lip and said angrily — 
 
 " Now, Marie, I warn you seriously that any 
 clandestine correspondence with young Gulllot 
 will be regarded unfavourably by your father 
 and myself ; do be cautious, ma chere, for a false 
 step may plunge us all into a serious calamity — 
 now, remember ! "
 
 92 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 So saying, lifting an admonitory forefinger, 
 madame retired. 
 
 There was no more singing that morning in 
 Marie's dressing-room ; her mother's words had 
 roused her natural wilfulness, and as her maid 
 was arranging her coiffu7^e, she sat meditating 
 on Lieutenant Henri and the days of childhood 
 which they had passed so merrily together. 
 
 At ten o'clock in the forenoon the great bell 
 clanged out in the hall, and the servants in their 
 red livery lined the sides of the dining-hall, 
 awaiting the guests, who, on this occasion, were 
 numerous enough to fill the long table which 
 ran lengthwise down the centre. 
 
 Many of the notables of the neighbourhood 
 had already arrived, and the chateau was full 
 of valets and maids . running about in a pretty 
 confusion, with their masters' or mistresses' 
 dresses for the ball which was to take place 
 in the evening. Some of the guests were 
 arriving as the sieur and his friends were 
 passing to the dining-hall. 
 
 The Comte de Pontorson had just turned 
 to address a remark to Marie, who should have 
 been pacing demurely at his side, when, to his 
 surprise, he found his partner had escaped, and 
 was at that moment receiving a kiss upon her
 
 ASYLUM CHRTSTI. 93 
 
 upturned brow from a tall, white-headed old 
 gentleman, whose dark eyes were sparkling 
 with delight, and with something of the fire of 
 fifty years ago. By his side stood a young man 
 in naval uniform, stroking his dark moustache 
 with one hand, and eyeing the old gentleman's 
 warm caresses with a humorous twinkle, as 
 if he were saying to himself, '' Ha, ha ! mon- 
 sieur mon pere has found a pretty girl as well as 
 an old friend." 
 
 As soon as Marie had disengaged herself 
 from the old man's embrace she made Lieu- 
 tenant Henri a ceremonious curtsey, bade him 
 and his father welcome, and, inviting them to 
 join the guests at the ddjetiner, ran off to take 
 her place at the table. 
 
 It was not a formal gathering this morning, 
 partly because fresh guests constantly arriving 
 were expected to come in at any moment ; 
 but yet Marie found the company respectfully 
 standing and waiting for her approach. She 
 blushed deeply, and as she passed in front of 
 her mother's chair, dropped a low curtsey and 
 apologized. 
 
 Madame gave her a look full of meaning, and 
 inclined her head. Father Beauvais, who had 
 been drumming with his fingers on the table,
 
 94 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 and had already tucked a large white napkin 
 under his chin, cried out — 
 
 " A la bonne heure, mademoiselle ! I thought 
 I had lost you." 
 
 " Don't believe the father ! — he thought he 
 had lost his ddjeuner ! " shouted a little man, 
 dressed as an ecclesiastic, looking round for 
 applause. 
 
 '' Ah, that's the Abbe Huet, I will wager an 
 angel ! He is always making bad jokes when 
 he is not editing the classics for the Dauphin." 
 
 " Yes, messieurs et mesdames, when I want 
 to unbend my mind, I love to watch le bon pere 
 la bas dip his fingers in the stew-pan: 'dulce est 
 desipere in loco' — Father Beauvais will trans- 
 late it. He is well up in the fathers. Come 
 now, my friend, your version of it ? " 
 
 '' Abbe Huet, it is not seemly to quote the 
 fathers at such a moment." 
 
 A burst of laughter followed this display of 
 ignorance on the part of the confessor. 
 
 In the midst of the uproar which had greeted 
 the confessor's speech. Captain and Lieutenant 
 Guillot entered the hall. The sieur at once 
 rose, shook them by the hand and saluted them 
 on the cheek, and then presented them to 
 madame, who sat by his side. They then went
 
 ASYLUM CIIRISTI. 95 
 
 down the table shaking hands and bandying 
 words of salutation and welcome with many of 
 the guests to whom they were well known. 
 
 Marie soon found means to retire quietly 
 with Ethel, since It was not permitted her to 
 partake of food until she had " made her com- 
 munion." As she passed through the outer 
 hall, a young priest, looking wistfully through 
 spectacles, approached her and said, In a timid 
 voice — 
 
 " If mademoiselle wishes. Monsieur I'Eveque 
 will see her In private." 
 
 Marie accepted the guidance of the young 
 secretary to a private chamber, where the 
 bishop was waiting to confer with the fair com- 
 municante. 
 
 Meanwhile many ladles were making their 
 way to the chapel to witness or take part In the 
 religious service which was to usher in the pro- 
 ceedings of the day. Priests In long robes were 
 waiting about, and little acolytes in white vest- 
 ments with crimson sashes round their waists 
 were busy lighting the candles upon and about 
 the altar. A Jesuit was kneeling on the stone 
 steps leading to the altar, his head bowed In 
 prayer ; a Benedictine, who had sat at table 
 a few minutes before, entered hurriedly, and
 
 96 ' ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 Stepping lightly up to the Jesuit, whispered in 
 his ear. The Jesuit rose, bowed to the altar, 
 and followed the monk out of the chapel. 
 
 At the entrance of the chapel, and between 
 the grilles, or iron gates, which guarded the 
 arched passage leading to the rest of the 
 chateau, were gathered a few priests and some 
 of the servants of the guests. The Jesuit, 
 addressing one of the tonsured gentlemen, 
 said — 
 
 *' Keep these gates partly closed until the 
 procession arrives, and see that no heretic 
 passes more than a few paces into the chapel." 
 
 The priest bowed, and obeyed his orders by 
 closing one gate and standing in the way to 
 question all who passed. 
 
 Presently a party of gentlemen appeared, 
 laughing merrily with words of banter and fun, 
 gradually dying down into reverent silence as 
 they drew near the iron gates. The priest 
 whispered in the ear of each, and, on receiving 
 a nod in reply, opened the gate and allowed 
 him to pass. At length, as old Captain Guillot 
 approached, the priest quietly closed the other 
 gate, and politely whispered in the old officer s 
 ear — 
 
 '* Monsieur, 11 est defendu ! " accompanying
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 97 
 
 the refusal with a slight wave of the hand, and 
 bowing with studied courtesy. 
 
 For a moment the old man was staggered ; 
 his companions, who had already passed into 
 the chapel, were turning to see what was the 
 cause of the delay, the servants were whispering 
 together and pointing. 
 
 '' By whose command am I forbidden en- 
 trance ? " demanded the captain. 
 
 The priest bowed, and said a general order 
 had been given to admit only Catholics. 
 
 At this moment Philippe made his appear- 
 ance, and Captain Guillot, accosting him, ex- 
 claimed, " You and I are heretics ; we may not 
 enter." 
 
 " What ! " cried Philippe, reddening ; " have 
 these priests dared to stop you ? I apologize 
 to you, M. le Capitaine. In the name of my 
 father, follow me." 
 
 And the little fellow, in all the offended 
 majesty of a dozen years, strutted towards the 
 g7nlle. " Ouvrez, s'il vous plait, monsieur," he 
 exclaimed. 
 
 " Certainly," replied the priest, and admitting 
 Philippe, shut out the captain. 
 
 '' Admit M. le Capitaine instantly, or I report 
 you to my father ! " 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 " It is against orders, my son. I am very 
 sorry," and again the priest bowed. 
 
 A party of ladies were now approaching, and 
 amongst them was madame. As they came near, 
 PhiHppe cried out, "Is it true, mamma, that 
 only Catholics are permitted to enter the chapel 
 to-day ? " 
 
 " I know not, mon cher fils; the arrangements 
 are under the control of le Pere Beretti," re- 
 plied madame. 
 
 " Ah ! le Fere Beretti," whispered the ser- 
 vants in the background. 
 
 " But I am sure there must be some mistake," 
 continued madame, inclining graciously towards 
 the captain. 
 
 *' Oh ! madame, I should be the last person 
 in the world to rebel against properly con- 
 stituted authority ; allow me to retire," and 
 the captain turned to depart. He now met 
 Father Beauvais, arrayed in splendid vest- 
 ments, as he was to take part in the service of 
 the mass. 
 
 " Hallo ! M. le Capitaine, whither away ? we 
 are going to begin directly." 
 
 " Fardon me, M. le Confesseur- — heretics are 
 not allowed by Beretti to enter." 
 
 " Vraiment ! fi done ! who is this Beretti, to
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 99 
 
 Stop the sleur s friends in his own house ? 
 Come with me, my friend, come with me ! " 
 
 So saying, he drew his friend's arm through 
 his own and made straight for the grille, afford- 
 ing to the on-lookers a strange contrast of the 
 Church and the world Hnked arm in arm — the 
 one being stout and puffy and indignant, 
 the other spare and tall and wearing an air of 
 amusement. 
 
 "Comment! stand aside, M. le Pretre ! en 
 voila une affaire ! making a disturbance in con- 
 secrated ground ! let my friend pass instantly." 
 The priest saluted Father Beauvais silently, 
 keeping his hand on the gate. 
 
 '' I tell you, open the gate ! By St. Francis, 
 if it were not for my sacred dress and holy 
 office, I would put my fingers about thy 
 scraggy throat ! " 
 
 " It is impossible. I have received orders 
 to the contrary." 
 
 " I care not for orders, not if the devil him- 
 self have given them. Infame ! I trust to make 
 an example of thee, this day. You will not 
 open ? then, God help you ! I will be about 
 thy windpipe." 
 
 As he gasped out these choleric words 
 Father Beauvais made a sudden clutch through
 
 lOO ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 the iron grating at the priest's throat. The latter 
 drew back, and so saved his neck from the 
 eager fingers of the confessor, but not so his 
 long bands, which were caught and firmly held, 
 so that he was pinned closely to the grille. 
 
 The noise and confusion caused by this 
 scuffle had attracted the attention of some who 
 had already taken their seats, and a little crowd 
 began to assemble, of faces set to various moods 
 and tones of feeling, some being distorted with 
 half-suppressed laughter, some petrified into a 
 fixed look of alarm, others drawn out into the 
 severest cut of scandalized propriety. 
 
 All the time the face of the pinioned priest 
 remained calm and expressive of patient cheer- 
 fulness ; he neither struggled nor betrayed any 
 emotion. 
 
 The captain stood stroking his moustache, 
 and feeling himself a little compromised by the 
 interference of so undignified a champion. 
 
 How long the father would have held on 
 to his opponent one cannot say, for the modest 
 step and demure face of the Jesuit put an end 
 to the disgraceful scene. He addressed himself 
 to the priest. 
 
 " For shame ! my friends, to put our Holy 
 Church to shame in the presence of those not
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. lOI 
 
 her children. Do me the honour to explain 
 this outrage." 
 
 " I will do you the honour to bid you mind 
 your own affairs," cried the confessor, facing 
 round and panting; *' this is your doing, and 
 you know it." 
 
 " Monsieur le Confesseur, you are at present 
 too angry to judge discreetly of anybody's con- 
 duct. I address myself to the priest there." 
 
 The worthy priest, having re-arranged his 
 dress, bowed and replied — 
 
 " I was humbly doing my duty, and keeping 
 the door of the chapel against that heretic there, 
 and I was assaulted as you saw just now." 
 
 " By whose order, may I ask, were you so 
 employed ?" said the Jesuit. 
 
 ** By your own order, most reverend father," 
 answered the priest simply. 
 
 " Alas ! that one momentary act of inatten- 
 tion on your part, brother, should have led to 
 such disastrous consequences. Retire at once ; 
 go back to your chamber in the bishop's 
 lodgings, and repent of your sin. Father 
 Beauvais, and you, M. le Capitaine, will pardon 
 the carelessness of this poor priest, who has 
 not learnt the first lesson of obedience. His 
 instructions were to admit all — Catholics and
 
 I02 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 non-CatholIcs alike — but, for the sake of order, 
 and in strict justice, to admit Catholics to seats 
 near the chancel, and to reserve the west-end 
 for the so-called Reformed. Was it not so, 
 M. lePretre?" 
 
 '' On consideration, I humbly admit it was ; 
 but " 
 
 " Ah ! Satan sends that little word ' but ' to 
 excuse our sins. Go, brother ; he who cannot 
 obey is not fit to rule." 
 
 The priest went away, with his large beaver 
 hat under his arm, very crest-fallen ; the iron 
 gates were flung wide open, and order was 
 restored. 
 
 " That little man will be a cardinal some 
 fine day," whispered Constant to Pierre. 
 
 "Probably," answered Pierre; "he has as 
 many bolt-holes as a rabbit." 
 
 " Hush ! Here comes the procession, and 
 Monseigneur I'Eveque with his crosier." 
 
 As the two servants knelt at the stones, 
 Pierre muttered low — 
 
 " Please God all bishops and popes may be 
 swept clean away — aye, and kings, too, and 
 kings' women." 
 
 The murmured words were not lost upon a 
 monk who paced demurely in the procession.
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. IO3 
 
 A face pitted with small-pox turned upon the 
 kneeling serviteur, and when Pierre rose to his 
 feet again he knew that the Benedictine had 
 marked him as his own. 
 
 Whilst the service of the mass was pro- 
 ceeding in the chapel, Beretti was holding a 
 private conversation with the Comte de Pon- 
 torson in the sieur's studio — a conversation ' ad 
 majorem Dei gloriam.' The studio was a small 
 square chamber, wainscoated with black oak ; 
 the ceiling had once been gilded and adorned 
 with paintings worthy of a Le Brun or a 
 Mignard, but cobwebs and dirt and damp had 
 defaced the angels, and left a scattering of 
 superfluous wings and purple robes to mock 
 the fancy. In fact, the studio had formerly been 
 a part of the large salon, with which it now com- 
 municated by a door concealed behind a book- 
 case. The walls of this room were hung with 
 book-stands, or adorned with oaken brackets, 
 bearing busts and statuettes of men famous 
 in literature ; here and there were suspended 
 rusty rapiers, and antique helmets, foils, fowl- 
 ing-pieces, and stuffed wild birds. The chamber 
 seemed to be a museum of the tastes of the 
 Cornelli family ; — the weapons of physical 
 force, old and rusty, pointed to Messieurs les
 
 I04 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 Ancetres ; the weapons of intellectual force, fresh 
 from the printer or newly thumbed, betrayed the 
 tendencies of the present lord of the chateau. 
 
 The comte had just thrown himself into a 
 large and comfortable fauteuil, square, like all 
 the good arm-chairs of old — a cup of red wine 
 stood untasted by his side ; Beretti was leaning 
 carelessly against the mantelpiece. Pointing to 
 the silver goblet, the latter said, with a playful 
 shake of the head — 
 
 " We all have at least one enemy who con- 
 quers us, and that red liquor, M. le Comte, is 
 yours. Ha ! ha ! my friend! our order can speak 
 to the point, you see. Stay ! touch not a drop 
 till we have argued this out once for all." 
 
 The comte, who had nervously clutched the 
 cup to hide his confusion, now released it at 
 the bidding of the Jesuit, and sat silent, half- 
 supercilious, half-afraid. 
 
 '' I wish to talk to you," continued the Jesuit, 
 *' as one friend talks to another, about this 
 indecent and unmanly habit of yours, which 
 degrades you in the eyes of all when drink has 
 robbed you of your senses. Nay, start not, 
 sir ; I care not if you strike me down with that 
 gay sword that swings so jauntily at your side. 
 I may not bear arms, or I would make mine, too,
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. IO5 
 
 leap from the scabbard and satisfy your honour ; 
 but I am unarmed, and monsieur Is no coward, 
 though he be a ruffling drunkard " 
 
 " Now, by St. Peter, I can't tolerate this ! " 
 shouted the comte, starting up and seizing the 
 Jesuit by the arm. 
 
 The Jesuit made no resistance, but when his 
 arm was released calmly took up the comte's 
 goblet — " A votre sante, monsieur," drained It to 
 the last drop, and resumed the conversation 
 with perfect good-breeding. 
 
 The comte's anger was turned to astonish- 
 ment, and astonishment gave place to admira- 
 tion, and admiration again yielded to a sense of 
 absurdity; he threw himself back in his chair 
 and laughed long and loud. 
 
 '' There ! that's what I call having a good 
 heart," said BerettI, smacking his lips ; '' another 
 man would have nursed resentment against me 
 for speaking so plainly and for drinking his 
 Bordeaux ; but the Comte de Pontorson has 
 a good heart, which he is doing his best to 
 spoil." 
 
 ** I confess, I confess ; I make a clean breast 
 of it ! " 
 
 " Oh ! that you will never do so long as you 
 keep defiling It with the fumes of wine."
 
 I06 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 " Well, well, father, grant me absolution ! I 
 am a weak child." 
 
 " So much the more need of obeying a strong 
 guide ! Come now ! put yourself entirely in my 
 hands for six months— I promise you will not 
 repent it." 
 
 " No, no ! six months on bread and water ! 
 Why, I should not be able to drink a cup of cider 
 after that without growing heady." 
 
 '' Oh, don't boast of your powers of drinking 
 to me, M. le Comte ; I have no opinion of your 
 drinking-powers at all. In fact, I am ready to 
 wager a bag of angels that I can sit you out by 
 a good half dozen cups." 
 
 The comte gave a look of good-natured, 
 foolish admiration, and ejaculated — 
 
 '' No ! What you — a priest — drink more than 
 I can ? Mon Dieu ! non ! " 
 
 " I am ready to challenge you at a drinking- 
 bout ; and let this be the condition : that an 
 umpire shall stand by with a hunting-whip, to 
 deliver it to the one who shall remain sober, 
 who shall proceed to scourge soundly his 
 drunken rival ; or if both be inebriated, that the 
 umpire shall incontinently punish them both. 
 What say you ? " 
 
 The comte, restored to good-humour, laugh- 
 ingly refused the challenge.
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. IO7 
 
 ''Well, then," resumed the Jesuit, '' since you 
 strike your colours to me when I challenge you 
 on your own ground, and thereby acknowledge 
 that my head is stronger than yours, ought you 
 not, in mere prudence, to listen to what I have 
 to say ? " 
 
 " To listen, my friend, is easy ; to obey is 
 not always easy or agreeable." 
 
 '* There you mistake me ; that is what you 
 short-sighted mortals always say : ' vice is so 
 entertaining, virtue so uninteresting.' Nothing 
 more untrue. Galloping is exhilarating, walkjng 
 is tedious ; yet you don't put your hunter at his 
 full speed over a heavy piece of plough-land : 
 no, you remember that the chase is yet to come, 
 and you reserve his strength. Now, my good 
 friend, apply this to your own case : your life is 
 but beginning, your prospects are bright, if you 
 can stay the whole course ; but if you go on 
 exhausting your powers at the present rate, it 
 will soon come to the last office and a long 
 good-bye, or health will fail and you will 
 find that you have been purchasing a short- 
 lived pleasure at the expense of years of 
 suffering. Just think of this, my friend, that, 
 being sober, you become a rich and noble life, 
 pregnant of good and usefulness ; being a
 
 I08 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 drunkard, you become a festering mass of 
 aristocratic corruption, worth nothing, not even 
 the gold braid your cloak is trimmed with. 
 Choose, then, which you will be ! " 
 
 '' Bon Dieu ! " exclaimed the comte, rubbing 
 his eyes and starting to his feet, as he shook 
 himself like a dog that has been rolling in the 
 hay ; '' it has never been put like that to me. I 
 declare you make my flesh creep ! What would 
 you have me do ? how can I save myself from 
 myself ? " 
 
 The Jesuit paused, fixed his dark eye steadily 
 on his yielding pupil, and said, in measured 
 words of deep and solemn cadence : 
 
 *' Go ask the hand of Marie de Cornelli 
 before set of sun ! " 
 
 The comte looked up, sighed, smiled, stroked 
 his moustache. In every feature and gesture 
 exhibited all the symptoms of in-door relief: 
 virtue, after all, was not so repulsive ; vice, after 
 all, was a mistake. The Jesuit went on — 
 
 ** Affiance yourself to that lady while good 
 motives influence your heart. She Is pretty ; but 
 shut your eyes to that : you must wed her from 
 higher motives. She Is clever and amiable ; but 
 what of that ? You will become her husband in 
 order to do the will of Christ and his Spouse,
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. lOQ 
 
 the Church. I have watched you both carefully ; 
 you will have a great and good influence on 
 each other s characters ; you will be happy in 
 this world ; you will have lived, I have reason to 
 hope, a good and useful life ; you will have your 
 reward hereafter." 
 
 The Jesuit ended by raising his crucifix to 
 his lips and murmuring a prayer. He left the 
 room. The comte was tracing out a seam in 
 the old oak floor with the toe of his left boot ; 
 he was so intent on his occupation, or so taken 
 up with his thoughts, that he did not observe 
 that he was left alone. For several minutes he 
 remained deep in contemplation of the aforesaid 
 seam in the floor, then exclaimed, with a sigh — 
 
 " But suppose, my good friend, that Marie 
 should refuse me ! " 
 
 He looked up for a reply, and found, to his 
 confusion, that Madame de Cornelli was entering 
 the studio, her missal in her hand. 
 
 Both blushed, both tried to look unconscious, 
 both read each other's secret. There was an 
 awkward pause, then madame said, with a be- 
 witching smile — 
 
 " I thought I heard you talking to some one ; 
 it seems I was mistaken." 
 
 '' I — I was talking to myself," stammered the
 
 no ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 comte, confused, and playing with the points of 
 his doublet. After a moment's hesitation, he 
 went on, " To tell you the truth, my dear 
 madame, I have some thoughts on my mind 
 which I should like to have the honour of con- 
 veying to you." 
 
 Madame put a little white hand to her lips to 
 hide a smile that would struggle into notice, 
 and coughed slightly. At the same time she 
 made a mental note of this extraordinary 
 answer to prayer, as prompt as it was literal, 
 for, thought she to herself, *' the very thing I 
 have been pleading for the last half hour — the 
 most extraordinary and direct answer I have 
 ever known ! " 
 
 " Yes, my dear madame, the good Father 
 Beretti has been taking me severely to task for 
 my irreligious life, and in doing so struck upon 
 a chord which a — which, in fact, had been vibra- 
 ting for some time in my heart." 
 
 '' Indeed ! how very singular ! " exclaimed 
 madame, in a suppressed utterance of delight. 
 
 " It is so, I assure you ! I should be glad to 
 hear your opinion about it." 
 
 " About what ? " cried madame, in a tone of 
 well-feigned surprise. 
 
 " Oh, to be sure, I think I forgot to mention
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. I I I 
 
 the matter in question. In short, my dear 
 
 madame, I have the honour to " The comte 
 
 paused and coughed, evidently looking- for some 
 sign of encouragement. 
 
 " Yes ? " said the lady, in her sweetest ques- 
 tioning voice. 
 
 '' To propose for the hand of Mademoiselle 
 Marie," concluded the lover, making his hostess 
 a ceremonious bow. 
 
 " I declare you take me quite by surprise, 
 monsieur ! " cried madame, remembering her 
 courtly education ; but instantly, as if prompted 
 by some religious regard for truth, added, 
 " though, to be sure, I had remarked how very 
 civil you have been to my daughter ; but really, 
 I cannot realize my Marie being anything but a 
 child — it comes so suddenly, you know." 
 
 '' I am sure, my dear friend, that no one 
 could look at your face and imagine you had a 
 daughter old enough to marry," said the Comte 
 gallantly. 
 
 "Oh, fi done ! You must reserve your compli- 
 ments for Marie. To tell you the truth, nothing 
 would give me greater pleasure than to feel that 
 my daughter was married to a good Catholic — 
 but can I truthfully say that of you ? " 
 
 Madame sighed and bent her blue, languish-
 
 TI2 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 ing eyes on the penitent roud so tenderly, that 
 in the depth of his repentance he almost felt 
 as if it were equally improving and equally 
 charming to love the mother as the daughter. 
 
 *' I declare, upon my honour as a gentleman, 
 that in seeking the hand of your daughter, I 
 am led by honourable and, I may add, by 
 religious motives." 
 
 " Sans doute ! sans doute ! " madame ex- 
 claimed, astonished at the speedy conversion 
 of her guest, and fearing his words were too 
 good to be true. 
 
 " I should only be too happy, if I could feel 
 sure that my proposals were received with 
 content by yourself and my friend, monsieur 
 votre mari." 
 
 Madame de Cornelli gave the comte her 
 hand to kiss, and was beginning to assure him 
 that she would do all In her power to forward 
 his suit, when the door opened and Marie her- 
 self entered, in her white muslin dress ; and, 
 seeing the comte bending down to kiss the 
 hand of her mother, stopped, curtsied, and was 
 about to retire precipitately, when her mother 
 cried out — 
 
 *' Stay, my darling, I have a few words for 
 you. Bless your sweet face, how young you
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. II3 
 
 look to-day ! M. le Comte will, I am sure, 
 excuse ceremony, and leave us together awhile. 
 Go, go ! you naughty man ! " 
 
 The comte gave an awkward skip, which 
 threw his peruke awry, and left the studio with 
 more speed than dignity. 
 
 Marie did not try to conceal the smile that 
 his absurd figure elicited. Her mother drew 
 her to her side and kissed her forehead, and 
 spoke softly and solemnly about the service she 
 had just attended ; told her how she had prayed 
 for her welfare in the life that was yet in stere 
 for her ; hoped she would begin to look at life 
 more seriously, as a privilege to be used for 
 Christ's sake and His Holy Church, not as a 
 plaything to trifle with for the pleasure of the 
 moment ; asked her to think more of others and 
 less of herself, to do nothing without feeling 
 sure that her guardian angel approved it. This 
 and more did the sincere mother ppur into the 
 ear of her daughter, until the dark grey eyes 
 glistened with the tears of good resolve, and 
 the red, pouting lips opened to a smile of filial 
 tenderness. The mother clasped her still closer, 
 till the daughter s face rested on the shoulder of 
 the mother, and then she proceeded to unfold the 
 tender secret which was trembling on her lips. 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 '' Marie, dearest, we can do nothing good on 
 this earth unless we love God — we cannot obtain 
 God's blessing unless we love His Church ; and 
 how sweet it is to feel that you are surrendering 
 anything for God's sake, none can tell but they 
 who have experienced it. Now, my sweet, do 
 not be frightened if I bring this suddenly home 
 to you. You can do something for God by 
 wedding with a man who has the power and 
 the influence and the will, if well directed, to 
 do great things for our holy religion." 
 
 Marie sobbed. Madame kissed her and con- 
 tinued — 
 
 " Yes, Marie, a great career is open before 
 you, if you only have grace to accept it. M. le 
 
 Comte has " 
 
 "Ah ! mamma, I feared it was so ; but indeed 
 I do not love him." 
 
 "No, my child, I did not- sup'pose you loved 
 him yet ; all I wish is that you' should not make 
 any violent objections to the proposal — there is 
 time enough yet. I do not wish to lose my 
 darling so soon ; but try, my dearest, to love 
 him, for the sake of our Holy Church." 
 
 " Indeed ! it is very hard, mamma dear ; very, 
 very hard ! " 
 
 And the poor girl sobbed as if her heart
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. II5 
 
 would break ; but after a time the swelling 
 bosom grew tranquil, and the lines melted from 
 her brow, as she looked up and said, with some 
 thing of her old defiant air — 
 
 " Why, then, does the good God give me 
 love with one hand and take it away with the 
 other?" 
 
 " I don't see your meaning quite, ma mi- 
 gnonne," whispered the mother. 
 
 " I mean this — though, perhaps, I may be 
 wrong, for I feel very rebellious — the voice of 
 God in my nature bids me marry the man I 
 love, but the voice of God in His Church makes 
 me sacrifice my love." 
 
 '' Not always, Marie ; if a girl loves a good 
 man, the Church sanctions and blesses that mar- 
 riage. But you must not ascribe every feeling, 
 however natural, to the voice of God ; our 
 nature, you know, is fallen." 
 
 *' Yes, madame, but if I may be so bold as 
 to say so, some of us have been mercifully 
 redeemed and pre-elected to everlasting life." 
 
 At the sound of a strange voice, mother and 
 daughter started with surprise. There stood 
 Pierre in his scarlet livery, and three-cornered 
 hat in hand, bowing to the ground, as he uttered 
 his sententious remark.
 
 Il6 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 " What do you here at this moment ? " ex- 
 claimed madame. 
 
 " Pierre craves pardon of his mistress ; he 
 was sent to summon the ladies, for the games 
 are about to commence in the park." 
 
 And the old serviteur bowed low, turned on 
 his heel, and retired. 
 
 The two ladies laughed as they thought how 
 their Catholic discussion had been brought to a 
 sudden and heretical termination. 
 
 " Well, Marie, we cannot stay longer now ; 
 but all I wish you to remember is, that both 
 your father and myself only desire your hap- 
 piness — your real and true happiness ; and you 
 know where that lies." 
 
 And madame sailed out of the room to attend 
 to her guests, having done her best to disabuse 
 her innocent daughter of the charm of natural 
 love. As for Marie, she looked into the old 
 round mirror to see if her eyes were red with 
 weeping, and having paid that tribute to fall en 
 nature, she sighed once more and ran away 
 to join the throng outside. 
 
 By this time the gardens were filled with 
 guests, who were promenading along the 
 terraces, sometimes clustering together and 
 sending up peals of laughter, as some don-mot, a
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. II7 
 
 little worse than usual, tickled their Norman 
 risibility ; lower down, on the green lawn, 
 children were playing at rustic games, while 
 their parents, in holiday attire, sat round in a 
 great circle and clapped their hands with glee 
 almost as childish. Everybody was bent on 
 being gay that morning, in honour of mademoi- 
 selle ; the old crooked-backed forester footed it 
 right merrily with black-eyed Jeanne from the 
 village, and toothless Nannette cracked a nut 
 every time the fiddler stopped to wet his lips in 
 the cider. But the merriment was greatest^ and 
 loudest in the maze, where young men and 
 women of eighteen were racing for dear life, or 
 a kiss, to the pole that crowned the summit. 
 There was no thought in all this festive gather- 
 ing of Catholic or heretic, saved or lost, 
 slave or free ; but rich and poor alike were 
 joined merrily together to spend a Norman 
 holiday. 
 
 Most of the nobility and gentry, with their 
 wives and daughters, contented themselves with 
 promenading on the high terraces near the 
 chateau, whence they could look down upon 
 their humbler neighbours, more noisily merry- 
 making below ; but there were exceptions 
 to this, and the buff jerkin of the apprentice,
 
 I I 8 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 the long black gown and square cap of the 
 physician, the tall lace caps and coloured hoods 
 of the cottier s wives, were enlivened by many a 
 gallant show of lace and ruffles and shoulder- 
 knots and points ; and there were not wanting 
 to the prettier peasant girls partners in the 
 country-dance whose short cloaks, broidered 
 with gold and silver, made sad jealousy brood 
 in the hearts of the once-favoured swain. 
 
 Amongst these, and moving in their midst 
 with many a kindly word and hospitable wel- 
 come, came the Sieur de Cornelli, leading on 
 his arm his daughter, who had now exchanged 
 her white dress for an embroidered velvet, the 
 train of which swept the tender grass as she 
 walked. The sieur had a look of proud con- 
 tent on his face, and he often glanced aside with 
 unrestrained delight at Marie, as she bent in 
 return to the respectful greetings of the bour- 
 geois and peasantry. As they approached a 
 group of children playing with a swing, all at 
 once the game was suspended, and down an 
 avenue of admiring parents trotted two little 
 children, not more than six years old : they 
 paused in front of Marie and made a low 
 curtsey, and handing to her a little parcel, began 
 to address her simultaneously in childish treble,
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. II9 
 
 glancing askance at one another for mutual 
 encouragement, and repeating curtseys at in- 
 tervals — 
 
 " Father and mother can never thank your 
 good father enough, my lady, but here we offer 
 unto you a piece of lace, with our best wishes for 
 your happiness, and may you be as fortunate as 
 you are beautiful." 
 
 And having finished, breathless, they again 
 exchanged looks — this time of mutual congratu- 
 lation — and looked smilingly around at all the 
 world. 
 
 Marie opened the parcel and exclaimed — 
 
 " Oh ! how very pretty ! What beautiful lace ! 
 Is this for me ? Please thank Madame Guille- 
 bert, and your father, too, for their kind wishes, 
 and let me kiss you both for your pretty 
 speech." 
 
 Then the two little girls were duly kissed, and 
 the grateful parents, who had been hiding in the 
 background, were pushed to the front by their 
 good-natured neighbours, and repeated their 
 thanks and good-wishes, not without blushes 
 and confusion on the part of the farmer. 
 
 There was a three-cornered hat hovering 
 about on the outskirts of the little crowd, but 
 it and its self-important owner were forcibly
 
 120 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 conveyed away from the scene of action by a 
 tall Norman lady before the sieur came that 
 way. 
 
 " Madame Andre has more tact than mon- 
 sieur the tax-collector," said a buxom wife to 
 her spouse. " See ! she is taking the fool away, 
 lest he should spoil all by his majestic mum- 
 mery." 
 
 "' Ah ! we don't want to hear about taxes on 
 a day like this," exclaimed a withered little 
 woman in a black hood. 
 
 " Who talks about taxes, mother ? " said a 
 tall, gaunt man, with lanthorn jaws. " Have a 
 care, citizens ; there are priests about in disguise, 
 and it were better to go home and hang your- 
 self than say a word in dispraise of his most 
 sacred Majesty's most villainous ministers." 
 
 " Always excepting the good Colbert," said 
 another voice. 
 
 At this moment a tall old man, with long 
 grey hair escaping from under a square black 
 chapeau, broke in suddenly — 
 
 '' My children, you act very unwisely to 
 cluster together — you will attract the attention 
 of the Catholics — and you, Master Mason, ought 
 to have more sense in your head than to utter 
 yourself so unrestrainedly ! "
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 121 
 
 Several hats were taken off to the speaker, 
 with whom all seemed on good terms. 
 
 '' You are right, Monsieur la Rose ; it is not 
 a day for such gossip," said the widow, '' and 
 priests about in disguise, too ! " 
 
 " It would be hard for anybody to disguise 
 himself from me," said the pasteur, " for I think 
 I know every face hereabouts." 
 
 The widow hereupon fell to such a violent fit 
 of sneezing that she was forced to pull her 
 shawl and hood almost over her face, which she 
 did with a wheezy, asthmatic panting piteous 
 to hear. 
 
 The mason watched her narrowly, and look- 
 ing up at the blue sky and spreading out his 
 hands in the sun, said, with an expressive shrug 
 of the shoulders — 
 
 *' Quel dommage ! the warm sun makes yon 
 poor old widow shiver and sneeze like one with 
 the ague." 
 
 The old woman hobbled away. The Hugue- 
 nots exchanged looks — there was a little pan- 
 tomine of shrugs and elevated eyebrows before 
 the pasteur said, " Who is yon old woman, 
 Master Mason ? " 
 
 " Nay," replied the mason waggishly, '' your 
 reverence knows all the faces hereabouts ; and
 
 122 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 it would be hard for a body to disguise himself 
 from you ! " 
 
 " Morbleu ! " said the buxom matron, " we 
 have been caught in a trap ! " 
 
 " Yes," answered the mason, laughing, " by 
 an old woman with a tonsure ! But I'll see to 
 her shivering fits; I'll follow her ladyship about, 
 and if need be, pluck the petticoats from her 
 false sides ! " 
 
 " I prythee raise no stir. Master Mason, for 
 the sieur would not for ten thousand crowns 
 that any ill-blood should rise to-day," said the 
 pasteur. 
 
 " See, mes amis ! " cried the buxom matron, 
 whose sharp eyes had been following the re- 
 treating figure of the supposed widow ; '' the 
 widow is using a kerchief ! " 
 
 '' Bon Dieu ! " exclaimed all, turning round ; 
 and the pasteur added — 
 
 " Then is there no doubt that the old woman 
 is not what she pretends to be ; for who ever 
 heard of a poor body having a pocket-hand- 
 kerchief ? " 
 
 " And she comes from Paris, as true as I'm a 
 Norman woman," cried the matron, " for there, 
 I am told, the bourgeois are aping the fashions 
 of the gentry."
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. I 23 
 
 " Probably yes, madame," answered the pas- 
 teur, gravely stroking his chin. 
 
 " Then who should it be but one of those 
 Jesuits whom Pere la Chaise has sent down 
 to set our teeth on edge ? " cried the matron, 
 triumphantly screwing up her pretty red lips 
 and spitting on the grass. 
 
 At this moment the great bell of the chateau 
 began to ring, and the fiddler paused and looked 
 at the first couple in the country-dance, and the 
 first couple turned and bowed to the fiddler ; and 
 then all the men uncovered to their partne^^, 
 and all the partners set and curtseyed to the 
 men, and arms were gallantly proffered and 
 coquettishly accepted ; and a slow, decorous 
 movement was made to the great dining-hall, 
 a movement which gradually seemed to quicken 
 and become faster and faster, from a secret 
 feeling of competition for the best places 
 amongst the frolicsome, until it ended in a 
 general run, amid much tittering and falling 
 down of the fair sex. 
 
 Tables were spread in both the outer and 
 large dining-halls, and yet many who had come 
 up late were obliged to wait until the rest had 
 finished before they could find seats. Dinner 
 in those days began with meats and ended with
 
 124 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 soup, and even in the seventeenth century French 
 cookery was famous, and to have a French cook 
 was in England considered a rare luxury. 
 
 There was a select party of the nobility and 
 landed proprietors seated at the table which 
 was upon the dais at the further end of the 
 hall, and behind every lady stood her page or 
 lackey, dressed in a long coat with velvet collar, 
 and glancing down at the undistinguished mob 
 of guests with an ineffable scorn. 
 
 The wines of Provence and Bordeaux and 
 Languedoc sparkled beside the native cider, 
 and toothless old dames might have been seen 
 taking very kindly to a silver mug of steaming 
 sack and sugar, or hot canary. 
 
 After the Bishop of Coutances had pro- 
 nounced a benediction, and nimble lingers had 
 made the triple sign of the cross, it needed no 
 pressing to induce the sieur's hungry guests to 
 do justice to the capons and the boar's head and 
 the pork, roast and boiled. But at the lower 
 end of the hall the daintiest dish was the black 
 pudding and the pork sausage garnished with 
 onions, and loud were the commendations be- 
 stowed on the authorities in the kitchen. 
 
 Amongst the upper guests, Father Beauvais 
 was, as usual, very conspicuous ; at his side sat
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. J 25 
 
 Captain Gulllot, an old friend after the flesh, if 
 not after the Church. 
 
 " Ah ! " said Father Beauvais, as a dish of 
 truffles was set before them, '* you get nothing 
 like this in a Protestant country ! Depend upon 
 it, my dear sir, the Holy Catholic Church is the 
 great mother of the cuisine ! Then, think of the 
 beneficial effects of judicious fasting, which, 
 apart • from spiritual benefits (which are con- 
 siderable), imparts such a tone to the stomach. 
 Ah, my dear sir, you Huguenots do vastly 
 err!" ^ 
 
 " I shall not venture upon such slippery 
 ground as theology with a father of the 
 Church," said the old captain, smiling good- 
 humouredly, " even though the argument turn 
 upon the respective merits of Catholic and Pro- 
 testant cookery." 
 
 The Abbe Huet, who had been listening to 
 the conversation across the table, now began 
 to rally the ecclesiastical gourmand in a loud 
 voice — 
 
 "It used to be the good old custom for our 
 saints, when they met a fellow-creature pos- 
 sessed, to cast out his devil ; but it hath been 
 reserved for Father Beauvais to discover a 
 more agreeable remedy; he plies his satanic
 
 126 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 majesty with entremets and fricasseed wing- 
 bone, and so heaps coals of fire on his head ! " 
 
 "If our friend the good abbe talks less of 
 dainty dishes, it is only because he enjoys them 
 the more — there is no feeder like your closet- 
 student," retorted Father Beauvais, as he wiped 
 the gravy from his moustache. 
 
 The abbe burst into a loud laugh at the 
 boyish indignation of the stout confessor, which 
 attracted to him the gaze of the other guests. 
 
 " Who is that unpolished little priest ? " said 
 a languishing countess to the Sieur de Cornelli, 
 eyeing him through a crystal set in ivory, which 
 she held daintily between her finger and thumb. 
 
 " That, madame, is the celebrated Abbe Huet, 
 instructor of the Dauphin, editor of the classics, 
 author of several treatises on theology and 
 philosophy — somewhat rude and impetuous, but 
 a bel esprit, and rising genius." 
 
 " Humph ! " said the countess ; " he has the 
 manners of an Englishman ! " 
 
 The abbe, all unconscious of the disparaging 
 remarks that were being passed upon him, was 
 keeping the company in a roar of laughter. 
 
 "You were speaking of my closet studies!" 
 he cried ; " I can tell you a story about that. 
 When I was first appointed to the Abbey of
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. I 27 
 
 Aulnay, I used to spend a good deal of time at 
 work in my studio, and one day a fellow who 
 was continually pestering my servants to let 
 him in, on being told that he could not see me, 
 as I was busily engaged within, reading, ex- 
 claimed, in a discontented tone, ' Diable ! why 
 has not the king sent us an abbe who has com- 
 pleted his studies ? ' Now, my good friend 
 Beauvais, you were the man for Aulnay — I 
 wonder at the king's indiscretion."
 
 128 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Before the guests left the dinner-table, the 
 Sieur de Cornelli rose up in his place ; Constant 
 stepped forward, glass in hand, to the steps of 
 the dais, and shouted at the top of his voice, 
 " Silence, messieurs et mesdames." Then he 
 delivered the gold cup to the sieur, who, raising 
 it above his head, and drawing his sword in his 
 right hand, said, in the midst of a profound 
 silence, " My friends, before we leave the table 
 I give you the health of the king." In an 
 instant the whole company rose to their feet, 
 swords flashed in the air, and cries of '*Le Roi!" 
 rent the air, as the red wine disappeared down 
 loyal throats. 
 
 Then the sieur led the way with the Duchess 
 d'Elboeuf, and the others followed in the order 
 of precedence. Some of the fine ladies, who 
 had the air of having been to court, began to
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. I 29 
 
 fasten black-velvet masks over their faces, lest 
 the air outside should mar the delicate bloom of 
 their complexions, but the greater part retired 
 to the spacious saloons, where they rested them- 
 selves in preparation for the ball which was to 
 take place in the evening. Some gathered 
 round the harpsichord, where Ethel was enter- 
 taining them with the English airs that she 
 loved so well ; others played at tables, as back- 
 gammon was then called, or chess ; for the 
 gentlemen there were billiard-tables and 
 smoking-saloons, piquet, ombre, basset, and 
 lansquenet, and red-liveried servants were con- 
 tinually reappearing with confitures for the 
 ladies and muscadine for the men. 
 
 Whilst the tournament and mimic contest of 
 knights is progressing in the park, amid loud 
 cries of " Via!" and ''Brava!" let us see what is 
 going on in the private apartment reserved for 
 Monseigneur I'Eveque de Coutances. 
 
 He is seated in an arm-chair by the table; 
 before him are spread some manuscripts, which 
 he is deciphering ; a white cat is purring about 
 the table, sometimes rubbing her back against 
 the bishop's arm as he leans on the table, some- 
 times turning brusquely and brushing his very 
 face with her long, furry tail. " Shame on thee, 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 Candide, thou irreverent creature! thou shouldst 
 have stayed at home had I known thou wouldst 
 be so troublesome — but hark ! here comes a 
 mouse ! " 
 
 And, sure enough, there was a scratching 
 heard at the door, then a pause, then another 
 scratching. '' Bien curieux ! " exclaimed the 
 bishop, rising and going to open the door. As 
 for puss, she had jumped upon the mantelpiece, 
 arching her back in evident alarm. 
 
 On opening the door, Maintenon was dis- 
 covered with a letter in his mouth, and the 
 sound of retreating steps was faintly audible 
 along the corridor. Maintenon followed the 
 bishop into the room, and seemed in no hurry 
 to deliver his letter, which he held firmly 
 between his clenched teeth, in spite of coaxing 
 and pulhng. At last the bishop, not without 
 an angry remonstrance from his canine friend, 
 tore a piece of the paper, and read in the hand- 
 writing of Marie, the words, " faire une visite," 
 and conjecturing that his fair disciple sought an 
 interview, he scribbled a large " Oui ! " on the 
 remains of the letter, and told the dog to go 
 seek his mistress. This Maintenon seemed to 
 understand, and with one look of ineffable dis- 
 dain at Candide, who was spitting, like no
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. I3I 
 
 Christian, from her ground of vantage, trotted 
 away with his answer. 
 
 In a few minutes Marie was kneeHng at the 
 side of her bishop, covering his hand with 
 kisses, and trying to repress the tears which 
 would drop, and tell him too soon how sorely 
 she needed comfort. 
 
 " Weep on, weep on, my poor little daughter : 
 tears are the precious springs which run to 
 swell the great river of our Father s ocean of 
 love ; there is no human heart torn by anguish, 
 but some anofel comforter hovers near to gather 
 up the tears into His bosom. Something vexes 
 my little Marie on her fete-day, and she has 
 come to ask for advice — is it not so ? " 
 
 And the bishop parted the hair — the brown 
 wavy hair — from her white forehead, and waited 
 for her confession. Long she knelt sobbing ; 
 at last she ventured to look up, and, gathering 
 confidence from the soft, sympathetic eye which 
 was fixed upon her, she began to narrate, with 
 occasional sobs and heavings of the bosom, the 
 events of the morning, the conversations she 
 had had with her mother, and her own unhappi- 
 ness at the thought of marrying the Comte de 
 Pontorson, ending by asking, in appealing 
 tones —
 
 132 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 " Ought I, then, to marry this man ? Is it my 
 bounden duty, monseigneur ? " 
 
 The bishop had a soupgon of a smile upon 
 his Hps, a gHmmer of a twinkle in his eye, as 
 he looked at the kneeling girl and heard the 
 cause of her trouble ; he bent down and kissed 
 her forehead, and said — ■ 
 
 " Fortunately we shall not need to call in our 
 friends the casuists to settle these doubts of my 
 little one's ; no, my dear Marie, it is not your 
 duty to marry that man, and God forbid it ever 
 should be ! Your good mother, in her zeal for 
 the Church, has made a pardonable mistake ; 
 but, after all, it is your own heart you must 
 consult, for you are a good, sensible girl, and 
 will never give your affections, I feel sure, to 
 one who does not deserve them. Take my 
 advice, and be in no hurry to betroth yourself; 
 especially, Marie, beware of engaging yourself 
 •to a Huguenot. Ah ! you colour ! then I guess 
 aright — do be on your guard, for we know not 
 what troublous days may be in store for us all." 
 
 The bishop looked unconsciously at a packet 
 of papers he had that morning received from 
 Paris. 
 
 " Now go, and be gay of heart once more, 
 and when any one asks you to wed, fall on your
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. I33 
 
 knees and ask the Great Father to show if it 
 be His will — the Spirit will guide you aright — 
 go ! you are free ! " 
 
 Marie left the bishop s sanctum with a lighter 
 heart ; the cloud which was menacing her had 
 broken, and above her head the sky was blue. 
 What cared she — a French girl, and only seven- 
 teen — for the ominous dark line that stretched 
 across her horizon ? She sano- a chmisonnette 
 as she tripped along the corridor. 
 
 Meanwhile there had been another dialogue 
 going on in the sieur's studio, in which JVIarie 
 was no less interested. Lieutenant Henri 
 Guillot, of his Majesty's royal navy, has just 
 been declaring his attachment to the sieur's 
 daughter, and asking permission to win, if 
 possible, the young lady's consent. The sieur 
 stands, for a moment, thoughtful and em- 
 barrassed ; then, placing his hand on the young 
 man's shoulder, says — 
 
 " Henri, I thank you for the honour you have 
 done me in asking my daughter's hand ; for, 
 though my rank is above yours, I believe you 
 to be the stuff that nobility is made of — and 
 personal nobility, in my mind, ranks far above 
 hereditary nobility ; therefore, I say, I thank you 
 for the honour you have done me. But, mon
 
 134 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 cher, I should prefer to wait a few years before 
 my daughter is affianced, even if she should 
 prefer you — and I have no reason for thinking 
 she would." 
 
 The lieutenant winced and hung his head ; 
 the sieur continued, in a kinder tone than 
 before — 
 
 " Yet, if you like to speak to Marie and sound 
 her feelings, I have no objection ; only let it be 
 clearly understood that there is to be no formal 
 betrothal. There are many reasons for this ; 
 amongst others, her mother is very anxious that 
 she should wed with a Papist : and again, I 
 myself am not quite sure of the advisability of 
 her marrying one of our religion." 
 
 '' As for the matter of that," replied Henri, 
 twirling his moustache, " I am not so bigoted a 
 Huguenot as to prefer Calvin to Mademoiselle 
 Marie ; one religion is in my opinion as good as 
 another." 
 
 '' That is the worst thing I ever heard you 
 say," rejoined the sieur sternly. 
 
 '' At my age, monseigneur, you were, I think, 
 of my opinion. It seems to me that the grand 
 religious truths — or rather, the spirit of religion 
 — dominates the heart of youth ; one grows 
 older, and a certain set of theological opinions
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. I 35 
 
 is imprinted on the mind — the more theology, 
 the less religion." 
 
 The sieur smiled sarcastically and rejoined — 
 '* Rather curious theories for a man to hold 
 who is willing to become a Papist that he may 
 marry a Papist ! I always thought, until now, 
 that a Catholic was the slave of certain theo- 
 logical opinions. You, who have no theology, 
 are willing tx) enter a Church which will insist on 
 your accepting every letter of its theological 
 teaching. It seems to me that it would be more 
 candid if you were to say : ' I, who belieye in 
 nothing, am quite ready to pretend to believe in 
 anything to humour the whims of my weak 
 brethren, so I may wed your daughter.' Ah, 
 Henri ! the time will come when you will feel 
 that liberty of conscience is worth some self- 
 sacrifice, some fighting for. God will some day 
 reveal Himself to you, and you will feel then 
 that you cannot barter away those convictions 
 for anything under heaven. You will scorn to 
 accept the convictions of other men at second- 
 hand as your own, when you feel the divine im- 
 pulse guiding you into truth. The Bible, and the 
 Spirit given to every man to interpret it — that, 
 to my mind, is the foundation of religious truth. 
 No doubt, we shall have a want of unity amongst
 
 1^6 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 US — nay, aberrations and mistaken Interpre- 
 tations, as men confound their own conceits with 
 the teaching of the Spirit ; but a Hve dog is better 
 than a dead man, and a reHglous conviction, 
 distorted though it be, if only it Hve and fire the 
 heart, is a thousand-fold better than a correct 
 system of theology, apprehended but not felt." 
 
 The sleur paused ; his face, generally so calm 
 and tranquil, was stirred with emotion, and there 
 was a kindling fire in his eye which communi- 
 cated itself to the younger man, as he answered, 
 " You have the advantage over me in living a 
 life of leisure, and are perhaps free from many 
 temptations to which we on board ship are 
 subject. I mix with Papists, most of whom are 
 mere Infidels or sceptics ; the Papists with 
 whom you come in contact only serve to fan 
 the flame of your religious ardour. I must 
 plead that as my excuse for the indifferentism 
 of which you accuse me." 
 
 '' My dear friend, do not imagine that my life 
 has not Its temptations. What ! have I no 
 temptation to join the Roman Church, when I 
 know that any day an order may come from the 
 king commanding me to give up my lands — aye, 
 and my children and the wife of my bosom! 
 Are these no temptations ? "
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 137 
 
 ** Le bon DIeu ! " said Henri, between his 
 teeth ; " if it comes to that, good-bye to France ! 
 I, for one, will never serve a king so tyrannical, 
 so abjectly governed by priests and women. 
 There is the Prince of Orange " 
 
 ** Stay ! " cried the sieur, pressing his hand to 
 the young man's lips, '' I hear some one at the 
 door ! " and he hastily stepped towards the door 
 and opened it. 
 
 It was the widow whom we noticed in the 
 gardens ; she curtseyed and cried — ■ 
 
 " God save your worship ! I am almost lost 
 in these dark galleries, and would fain find my 
 way out, begging your honour s pardon ! " 
 
 The sieur politely begged the old lady to 
 follow him. As they entered the large passage 
 leading to the outer hall, Maintenon, who had 
 been sleeping on a mat, rose with a low growl, 
 and on being rebuked by his master, continued 
 growling in a subdued tone of angry expos- 
 tulation. The sieur bowed, and, showing his 
 humble guest the way, retraced his steps ; but the 
 mastiff thought proper to conduct the suspicious- 
 looking widow to the very door, growling and 
 attracting the notice of the servants in the hall. 
 
 " I never knew that dog so ill-tempered," 
 remarked the sieur to Henri, as he re-entered
 
 138 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 the studio ; " he was quite furious with the 
 beldame." 
 
 At one corner of the salon, away from the 
 guests who were gathered about the harpsichord 
 and guitar, the Abbe Huet was playing a game 
 of draughts with Marie. They were sheltered 
 from observation by a screen of tapestry work, 
 which represented in vivid red the destruction 
 of Sodom, and the easy transformation of Lot's 
 wife into a pillar of white wool. 
 
 By the side of the players stood Philippe and 
 Aunt Justine, making noisy comments on each 
 move, and laughing with malicious glee when- 
 ever a piece was crowned king. The abbe was 
 far too good for his adversary, and would soon 
 have swept her men from the board had not 
 the mischievous boy come to the rescue of his 
 sister ; for the good abbe would turn away and 
 look out of window after each move, and whilst 
 Marie was planning her next point of strategy, 
 would grow absorbed in his wandering thoughts. 
 Philippe once or twice took advantage of the 
 abbe's want of attention to abstract a piece from 
 the board, not without winking at his sister and 
 nudging his aunt, the latter of whom would 
 show the whites of her eyes in pious horror, and 
 shake with worldly laughter at the successful
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 1 39 
 
 impudence of her pet nephew. As for the abbe, 
 he would turn to the draught-board and recall 
 his scattered thoughts from the song of Ascra 
 only to find that somehow the game was going 
 against him, and with many a " heiii ! " and 
 many a " tenez done /" re-adjusted himself in his 
 chair and played anew. However, the furtive 
 moves were too much for him, and he was 
 being hemmed in, only to fall a voluntary victim, 
 when Henri came into the salon and stood by 
 as the last move was completed. 
 
 " Dux femma facti" said the lieutenant, 
 mindful of his school-days. 
 
 " Viditus phm^etra visit Apollo,'' said the 
 abbe, looking at Philippe. 
 
 '' I wonder," said Aunt Justine, '' that a priest 
 should use a sacred lanofuag^e like Latin on 
 ordinary — I may say, profane — occasions." 
 
 ''If you will permit me to make a quip in the 
 language which you hold so sacred, madame, I 
 would say, 7ton abacus me turbavit sed abachts ! " 
 
 " Oh, I shall run away ! I am shocked to 
 hear the Romish jargon — there ! " 
 
 And Aunt Justine waddled away, angry at 
 not understanding the abbe's Latin, and not 
 being quite sure if draughts might not lead to 
 cards, and who knows whether the clatter of
 
 140 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 pistoles might not follow to draw down the 
 vials of wrath ? 
 
 The abbe gave up his place to Henri, re- 
 marking that he seemed anxious to be the next 
 victim. Marie coloured a little as she replaced 
 her pieces. 
 
 For a time Philippe and the abbe stood by 
 watching the game ; but when the lieutenant 
 lost two pieces by default, and had three vacant 
 squares in his king's row, they pooh-poohed his 
 tactics with unreserved contempt, and passed on 
 to the next group. 
 
 Henri and Marie were left together behind 
 the blue mountains and the white pillar of wool. 
 It was Henri's turn to move. He was not 
 looking at the board ; his chin rested on his 
 hand, his eyes dwelt on the delicate pink face 
 opposite, and his lips were parted as if some 
 spell had been upon him. Marie felt by an^ 
 instinctive sympathy that she was the object of 
 his gaze, but another Instinct bade her look up 
 with surprise, and say sharply — 
 
 " Mechant! it Is your turn. Why do you look 
 at me so ? " 
 
 " Because I wish, Marie, to read your heart's 
 secret in your fair face." 
 
 Marie trembled and murmured, " Go on ! —
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. I4I 
 
 with the game I mean ; " and having stumbled 
 into this ambiguity, she felt the blush creeping 
 down into her bosom. 
 
 Henri continued : " I have your father's con- 
 sent to speak to you, or I would never have 
 presumed so far, for I am well aware how 
 inferior my rank is to yours, and how unworthy 
 are my claims beside those of some who seek 
 thy hand, Marie. I may say 'Marie,' may I not ? 
 You were ' Marie ' to me, and I ' Henri ' to 
 thee, when we were children together." 
 
 '' Go on, Henri, with the game. It is thy 
 move ; " and the timid girl looked anxiously 
 round, as if she feared some one might be 
 listening. 
 
 '' I must speak whilst I have the opportunity. 
 I do not ask thee to be my affianced wife — I 
 only want to tell thee that I love thee, and none 
 other ; that on land or sea, in the ball-room, on 
 the lonely deck, I shall cherish thy sweet image 
 in my heart, and look forward — may I indeed 
 look forward ? — to saying more than I dare say 
 to thee to-day. Give me some sign, Marie, that 
 I may in the hour of battle or in the day of 
 death feel thou too lovest me ! " 
 
 As he spoke, Henri leaned over the table 
 and put his hand softly on the hand of the
 
 142 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 hesitating girl. She did not withdraw it. They 
 sat for a minute or two thus, neither speaking ; 
 he with eyes feasting on her face, she not 
 daring to look up or utter a word. The day's 
 doings seemed like a confused dream. The 
 solemn service, the capering morris-dancers, the 
 shocks of desolation and relief given her by her 
 mother and the bishop, and now the sudden 
 realization of her girlish fancies, all crowded one 
 upon another, had excited her and bewildered 
 her judgment. When at last she looked up 
 there were tears in her eyes ; but Henri saw 
 by the soft light which illuminated them enough 
 to give him hope for the future. 
 
 That game was never finished ; and the 
 twilight surprised the lovers bending still over 
 the forgotten kings, and whispering sweet 
 schemes for the conduct of life's deeper game — 
 visions of the yet-to-be, moves to be made over 
 the chequered squares of life. 
 
 The servants came in with the torches to 
 ight up the ball-room, and found them still 
 bending over their game. 
 
 Philippe, sent to summon his sister to dress, 
 or the ball, came upon them with an exclama- 
 on^of boyish impatience — 
 
 '' Marie ! we are all looking for you. I
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 1 43 
 
 wonder you are not tired to death. How many 
 games have you played, and who has won ? " 
 
 The reverie was broken ; the pieces were 
 hurried into the box. 
 
 ** I can't think how you can prefer draughts to 
 tennis, Lieutenant Henri," said PhiHppe, with a 
 touch of manly scorn in his tone. 
 
 The lovers exchanged looks ; if Philippe 
 could not tell why, they could. As Marie rose 
 to leave the salon, the lieutenant touched the 
 tips of her fingers with his lips. 
 
 Whilst the guests were donning their bravest 
 dresses for the ball. Father Beretti was better 
 employed in his little chamber in the left wing 
 of the chateau. A lamp was burning on the 
 table ; the large crucifix and rosary had been 
 taken off and laid side by side with a gold 
 chronometer, which ticked defiantly and with 
 something of modern self-complacence in the 
 presence of those mute mediaeval emblems. 
 The father was writing in a diary a summary 
 of the day's proceedings, and after completing 
 each sentence he read it aloud to himself 
 There were confessions of impatience and pride 
 and want of faith, which, after writing, he com- 
 pelled himself to recite to himself, and then 
 knelt down, and no sgund was heard in the
 
 144 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 dimly-lit room but the ticking of the fussy time- 
 piece. 
 
 Then the father rose and fastened* the clasps 
 of his vellum-bound diarium, and replaced it in 
 a chest that stood by the window, and from 
 the same chest drew forth a pair of silver 
 buckles, which he was attaching to his shoes 
 when a low tap was heard at the door. 
 
 " Pace tua, pater, aliquld tibi colloqui vellm," 
 said Brother Francis, peering through the gloom 
 of the chamber. 
 
 " Be seated, brother ; if there is aught worth 
 my writing down, have the goodness to be brief 
 and to the point, for I must spend the evening 
 in gaiety, as thou knowest. Well ! what hast 
 thou heard ? or rather, where hast thou been ? 
 for I failed to see thee to-day after the dinner- 
 hour.'^ 
 
 The monk seated himself, and folding his 
 hands demurely on his chest, which was covered 
 by the heavy folds of his serge habit, began as 
 follows. '' I adopted the precaution of a slight 
 disguise, in pursuance of your instructions to 
 gather the general feeling of our people, and I 
 flatter myself that some good will follow from 
 my innocent expedient." 
 
 " Stay ! " cried Beretti ; '' the responsibility of
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 145 
 
 this rests on you. I never advised you to 
 adopt so dangerous an expedient." 
 
 The Benedictine grinned, and showed a row 
 of indifferently handsome teeth. 
 
 "If the soldiers of an army are to wait for 
 minute instructions from their officers before 
 
 they parry the coming blow " and he 
 
 shrugged his shoulders and pulled the cord 
 tight which encircled his body. " Non, non ! 
 with Brother Francis lies the merit and the 
 responsibility of to-day's disguise. I do not 
 seek to shift the danger, if danger there be, from 
 my own shoulders ; but to come to the point — 
 ut ad rem redeamtcs — the Huguenots are as 
 sore as ever on the taxation question, and, 
 though they spoke reservedly, L heard enough 
 to convince me that political schemes are quite 
 as much their role as religious reforms. I heard 
 the king reviled and his ministers cursed ; that 
 infidel Colbert is the man they pin their hopes 
 on " 
 
 " Ah ! Monsieur I'Eveque has despatches to 
 day from Paris telling of his serious illness — 
 but all in God s good time ! " ejaculated Beretti. 
 
 "Then I had the good fortune to overhear 
 something extraordinary in the studio of the 
 sieur, for I was dressed " 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 14^ ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 '' Tell me not how you were dressed, good 
 brother, that I may answer with a good con- 
 science if questioned at any time." 
 
 " Well ! as I stood near the door of the studio 
 I heard that infidel lieutenant ask the hand of 
 mademoiselle." 
 
 "Jamais! and what then? What, by our 
 Lady, was the answer ? " 
 
 '' He was to sound the demoiselle on the 
 subject of marriage, but at present the sieur 
 declines to betroth her, on the ground of 
 madame's repugnance to ' the Religion,' and the 
 present uncertainty of affairs at court." 
 
 *' Ha ! and — tell me quick ! — has the young 
 man addressed himself to her yet ? " 
 
 *' Nay, Fatl\er Beretti, you must not expect 
 me to be like the foul fiend, in every place at 
 once," replied the Benedictine grinning ; " but 
 what I could I did. I managed to get into the 
 salon when the servants lighted the candles, 
 and there I saw the pretty innocents sitting like 
 brood hens over a covey of draughtsmen, in the 
 darkest corner of the chamber ; but the sight of 
 our red livery started them off their seat, and I 
 saw no more : but from the way they looked at 
 one another I should say the compact had been 
 signed with the tongue and sealed with the lips."
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 147 
 
 "Comment! so soon! Look you now: I urged 
 the comte to press his suit instantly, and had 
 he done so, this mischief might have been pre- 
 vented — for your girls of seventeen are flattered 
 into saying ' yes ' by a title. They will say 
 ' no ' to the man they really admire, out of 
 coquetry ; while they say ' yes ' to a nobleman 
 whom they dislike, out of vanity or ambition." 
 
 ''It may be so," said the monk, spreading out 
 his hands to express utter vacuity on the subject. 
 *' It belongs to you and your order to study the 
 hearts of men and women — to know the secrets 
 of the origin and growth of what the world calls 
 ' love ; ' as for me, I do not profess to under- 
 stand it." 
 
 " It is well ! " said the Jesuit drily, and after 
 a few more words the monk left him alone. As 
 he threw his rosary about his neck, Beretti 
 muttered — 
 
 '' It is a difficult game of chess when some of 
 the pieces won't move where you wish them, 
 and others think they can move themselves ! 
 Now there is no help for it — -the lieutenant must 
 be removed from the board ! " 
 
 And the Jesuit entered in his diariMin a 
 minute of the monk's narration.
 
 148 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The salon of Chateau de TEsprit was divided 
 into three apartments, connected by arched 
 galleries. The curtains which usually broke the 
 communication between these rooms were now 
 drawn back, and a person standing at one end 
 of the salon could carry his eye to the flambeaux 
 that blazed on the walls of the furthest chamber. 
 
 The large room, or ball-room, was festooned 
 with flags and flowers ; large mirrors of polished 
 steel set in silver gilt reflected the gay dresses 
 and flashing jewels of the dancers, and the dark, 
 well-polished floor set off to good advantage 
 the white satin shoes that tripped in the French 
 and Spanish dances. 
 
 The centre room was devoted chiefly to the 
 refreshing of the exhausted body ; a large table 
 was spread on one side of the chamber with 
 confitures and preserved fruits, behind which
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. I49 
 
 were serving three pretty girls dressed in the 
 fete costume of the country, and attracting the 
 attention of many a gallant whose pointed shoes 
 had done little service in the contredanse. The 
 other side of this room was occupied by a 
 billiard-table, at which a motley group of 
 cavaliers and high-waisted dames were playing 
 an unscientific game with some diminutive nine- 
 pins set in the centre of the table; but in inverse 
 proportion to the want of science were the 
 bursts of laughter as some old dame knocked 
 over one of these figures in her attempt to 
 cannon. It was in strange contrast to the silent 
 and majestic steps in the ball-room that these 
 votaries of the green cloth stamped and shouted 
 in their merry humour ; it was in contrast, too, 
 to the grave and thoughtful faces that were 
 bending over whist and lansquenet and chess 
 in the room beyond — though here, too, the 
 silence was broken by the chink of the gold 
 pieces at each turn of fortune. This, the card- 
 room, as it was called, was larger than the centre 
 room, and was fitted up with little round tables 
 or slabs of marble or malachite, while a con- 
 tinuous cushioned seat ran round the sides, and 
 a little fountain of scented water bubbled up 
 near the oriel window at the end.
 
 150 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 Two ladles were standing conversing by the 
 fountain — one a languishing countess, fresh from 
 the court, the other a young and beautiful girl, 
 the daughter of the famous painter Mignard. 
 The younger was dipping her handkerchief in 
 the fountain and putting it to her lips ; the 
 elder was eyeing her companion with a super- 
 cilious look of pity, and at length exclaimed, 
 loud enough for all to hear — 
 
 " Ma chere, how can you touch those odious 
 scents ! I should faint if you brought them 
 near my nose — I should indeed ! I declare, 
 when I first entered the ball-room and found 
 nearly all the men wearing kid gloves perfumed 
 with scents — orange-flowers and jessamine, and 
 the Lord knows what — you might fairly have 
 knocked me down with a feather ! It is abomin- 
 able! and such an old-fashioned custom! — nearly 
 as bad as yon old Chevalier of the Order, who 
 wears diamonds on his vest, and long boots on 
 his antiquated legs — ah ! it smacks vastly of the 
 provinces ! " 
 
 " Alas, madame I we have not all the pri- 
 vilege of the tabouret at court," said Mdlle. 
 Mignard, with a faint satirical tone in her voice ; 
 '' but here come the Pere Beretti and the Abbe 
 Huet, and I shall learn now how courtiers 
 behave and utter themselves."
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. I5I 
 
 The two ecclesiastics were so hotly engaged 
 in argument that they did not notice the ladies, 
 but stood on the other side of the fountain, 
 leaning against its 'marble base. 
 
 ''It seems the pere is rallying the good abbe 
 on his sporting propensities," said the countess, 
 glancing behind her fan ; " let us hear the 
 squabble." 
 
 " It is a duty we owe to our neighbour, 
 mon cher," said Beretti, '' not to do anything 
 which he thinks wrong. Now, a great many 
 people are scandalized when an ecclesiastic^fol- 
 lows ' la course ou la chasse' ; therefore " . 
 
 " Stop, stop ! " cried the abbe ; " I deny 
 your major premise altogether, and I think your 
 conclusion most impertinent. What ! is the 
 world to stand still, and are notions of right and 
 wrong never to be modified, for fear of offend- 
 ing a weak brother ? Why, the old Roman 
 Emperors thought it wrong to be a Christian, 
 and the Jansenists think it wrong to be a 
 Jesuit! Come now! you yourself go to balls, 
 and dancing, you know, seems very scandalous 
 to some of our pious friends ; therefore, da 
 mihi veniam in vena^ido, et ego tibi salutem 
 in saltandoT 
 
 The two ladies clapped their hands with well-
 
 152 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 feigned admiration, and cried *' Vive la chasse ! " 
 The card-players looked up and smiled at the 
 Roman jingle, and even an old gentleman, for- 
 got to play his pawn, and rubbed his chin with 
 a faint sense of amusement. As for the Jesuit, 
 he was not used to playing second fiddle, and 
 made away into the next room, where the Sieur 
 de Cornelli was conversing with a brilliant 
 group of cavaliers, whose lace collars, reaching 
 half way down the back, and the nice adjust- 
 ment of whose ruffles and points, betokened 
 familiarity with the court. 
 
 But as the confessor approached the group, 
 he perceived that the object of their regard and 
 merriment was a middle-aged man dressed in a 
 plain doublet of black velvet, whose points were 
 untied, and who, with folded arms, was gazing 
 vacantly into space. Yet was not his a vacant 
 face ; the nose a little upturned and the broad 
 forehead gave signs of acuteness ; but, like 
 Socrates in the market-place, he stood absorbed 
 by his own thoughts, whilst the others pointed 
 at him and whispered, and made bets how long 
 he would continue thus. At length he lifted 
 his eyes from the floor, and, gazing somewhat 
 contemptuously upon the dancers, said aloud to 
 himself, " La felicite est dans le gout et non pas
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. I 53 
 
 dans les choses," and turning round he found 
 the Jesuit at his elbow. 
 
 ''What! my friend Jean de la Bruyere here! 
 I thought you were at Caen ; but no doubt you 
 have come to make some studies for your 
 characters ! Do you want the mocking element ? 
 Look here ! " 
 
 And the Jesuit pointed to the group of 
 courtiers, who were just now looking super- 
 naturally grave and utterly oblivious of the two. 
 La Bruyere only pulled his sword half out of 
 its scabbard and let it fall with a loud ring^into 
 its place. This, which was done with so comic 
 an air of defiance, set the courtiers off laughing 
 again ; one old nobleman especially was con- 
 vulsed, and shook with his efforts to restrain 
 himself. La Bruyere seized him by both shoul- 
 ders, and cried in a loud voice, '' Les vieux 
 fous sont plus fous que les jeunes." 
 
 The sieur, fearing all this might end in a 
 fracas, and that the king's proclamation against 
 duels might be slighted by his guests, stepped 
 forward to appease the philosopher. Nor was 
 this a difficult task. For the upturned nose 
 had a heart attached to it prompt to forgive an 
 injury. 
 
 '' Mon ami, we were wagering how long you
 
 154 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 would remain in that attitude, when you turned 
 upon us with your quotations from my old 
 friend La Rochefoucauld. Gentlemen, let me 
 introduce to you a man of great ability, one 
 whose name will some day be great in litera- 
 ture — the Theophrastus of our age, if I mistake 
 not — if my learned friend will permit me thus 
 far to reveal the secrets of his studies ; " and 
 the sieur added in a whisper, " They have no 
 idea who Theophrastus was, never fear." 
 
 La Bruyere bowed, and a young chevalier 
 said, in a tone of banter, "I think, monsieur, 
 you and I have met at court." 
 
 La Bruyere looked his questioner down from 
 head to foot, and replied in slow, measured 
 language — 
 
 '' I have never been to court, monsieur, and 
 that you know quite well; but it will surprise 
 you, perhaps, to hear that the king has sent for 
 me to assist in the instruction of the Due de 
 Bourgogne ; and who knows ? perhaps I may 
 there have the honour of mocking at you, my 
 litde friend." 
 
 The conceited young courtier now looked 
 crestfallen, as his friends rallied him on 
 the brusque language which. La Bruyere had 
 addressed to him, and there was quite a buzz
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. I 55 
 
 of small-talk at the news of the good fortune 
 which had befallen the philosopher of Caen, 
 and presently several little place-hunters came 
 up and craved an introduction to the man 
 whom Louis had delighted to honour. 
 
 " Poor man ! " said one lady, '' his head will 
 be quite turned." 
 
 La Bruyere, who overheard her remark, 
 faced her and replied — 
 
 " No, madame, flattery is a false coin which 
 has no currency but through our own vanity, 
 and my vanity has received a shock to-night ; 
 for, to be frank, I came here to ridicule these 
 gentlemen and I find that they are ridiculing 
 me!" 
 
 In the ball-room were several alcoves or 
 recesses in which sat the dowagers arrayed 
 in the family diamonds. From these " places of 
 vantage sharp glances were cast from time to 
 time at the timid innocents who were pirouet- 
 ting in the centre of the room, and frequently 
 a toss of the fan or a motion of the eyebrow 
 settled the destiny of a family yet to be. For 
 obedience to parents was in those days very 
 much in vogue, and in the upper classes, at 
 least, it was very common for parents to sway 
 that obedience to the level of their own finan-
 
 156 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 cial schemes, and trust that love would follow 
 where wealth had adorned the couch. How 
 different those matrons from the mammas of 
 our own day ! — they at least were not ashamed 
 to do openly what they did to effect a mariage 
 de convenance. Their theory was that a woman's 
 love sprang up after marriage in the form of 
 gratitude for favours received. Our ladies of 
 fashion have no such theory ; they protest that 
 it is wrong to marry their daughters for rank or 
 money, and if they sometimes offer a daughter 
 for sale, they think it much if they have the 
 decency to offer no advertisement to the public. 
 This is what we call the progress of civilization ! 
 
 As the Jesuit passed from group to group, 
 accosting here and there an acquaintance whom 
 he had met in Paris, and keeping as far away 
 from the 'dance as he could, to save his reputa- 
 tion for spirituality, after what had been said 
 to him by the abbe, an old lady, much be- 
 dizened with lace and jewels, and wearing a 
 canopy of feathers on her head, took him aside 
 into the bow of a window, and, after a few 
 preliminary compliments, said as follows — 
 
 " I wish very much to consult you. You are 
 so just and yet so kind in your decisions on 
 all cases of conscience. I wish to consult you
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 157 
 
 about my daughter there — that is she, giving 
 her hand to that handsome officer yonder. 
 The fact is, she has been reading some 
 letters of JacqueHne Pascal, and other of 
 the Port Royal sisters, and has got an idea in 
 her head of taking the vows. Now there 
 is a young nobleman in our neighbourhood — 
 why should I make a secret ? the Comte de 
 Pontorson — who, I have reason to believe, is 
 ready and willing to form an alliance with my 
 family. Now, father, am I not warranted in 
 disregarding this silly girl's penchant iox the 
 cloister, accompanied as it is with admiration 
 for Jansenist doctrines ? " 
 
 '' Madame," replied the confessor, in his most 
 solemn tones, '' far be it from me, a priest, to 
 counsel you to trifle with the whisperings of the 
 divine conscience. As for the leanings of your 
 daughter to Jansenism, they will be easily set 
 right when once she mixes with the sisters, 
 but give her to a profligate, and you know 
 as well as I do that you risk her happiness 
 here, and hereafter also." 
 
 The dowager bit her lip and said hurriedly, 
 '' Mais oui, certainement ! " and found means to 
 escape from the rebuke she had so unexpectedly 
 provoked.
 
 158 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 As she took her seat again, she remarked 
 to a friend, " My dear, I have received a great 
 disappointment — a great shock to my hopes of 
 worldly advancement. I could not have en- 
 dured it from .the lips of an ordinary priest ; 
 but Father Beretti looks you through and 
 through with those black eyes of his. I could 
 not grieve his heart — the dear priest looks so 
 good." 
 
 Father Beretti had not walked many steps 
 further before he was accosted by a stout 
 gentleman of about fifty years, dressed in all 
 the luxurious extravagance of the day, A blue 
 cloak broidered thickly with gold and silver 
 was thrown over a black velvet doublet adorned 
 with blue ribbons ; a collar of point lace was 
 about his neck, and lace sleeves showed them- 
 selves at his wrists ; a black ribbon suspended 
 round his neck supported the order of St. 
 Michael ; his sword hung by along chain, silver- 
 gilt ; and knots of ribbons at his shoulders and 
 elbows fluttered in the wind raised by the 
 passing dancers. He made the Jesuit a low 
 bo.w. 
 
 " Ah, Monsieur de Blainville ! I am glad to 
 see you looking so well." 
 
 " And I, father, am rejoiced to meet you
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. I 59 
 
 here, for I want your spiritual counsel on the 
 following matter;" and he drew the Jesuit 
 aside and whispered — 
 
 " You know my cousin, the late marechal, 
 died a few weeks ago — God rest his soul ! 
 Bien ! In his will he has bequeathed a pretty 
 estate in Picardy to my younger son, now six 
 years old, on condition that he be brought up 
 in the tenets of the so-called Reformed Faith." 
 
 '' I see," said the Jesuit, his bright eyes 
 sparkling with interest, '' and you wish to know 
 what is right to do under the circumstances ? " 
 
 /' Precisely ! " replied the marquis, stooping 
 to bring his ear to the mouth of the Jesuit. 
 
 '' The case is clear enough : your cousin has 
 left his estate to your son, attaching certain 
 conditions thereto. You wish to know, first, 
 whether it would be right to accept the estate 
 and the conditions ; or secondly, whether you 
 may take the estate and avoid the conditions ; 
 or thirdly, whether you ought to refuse both 
 estate and conditions thereto attached. Am I 
 right?" 
 
 The marquis grunted assent, and pulled 
 nervously at the slashed sleeves of his doublet. 
 The Jesuit's face grew grave, and he resumed, 
 with a solemn air — '' Monsieur, there can be no
 
 l6o • ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 question about the first alternative : you may 
 not — you must not — sell your son's immortal 
 spirit for a parcel of acres ; take that for certain. 
 Now as to the second : you know, and I know 
 too, that to accept the estate and to avoid 
 fulfilling the conditions attached to it is to act 
 a lie before . God — to promise one thing and 
 perform another." 
 
 The Marquis sighed and said, " Could not 
 something be done by way of bringing up the 
 youngster in these tenets In such a manner as 
 to ensure his rejecting them when grown to 
 ripe manhood ? " 
 
 " FI done. Monsieur de Blalnville ! that would 
 indeed be to act a hypocritical part for the sake 
 of worldly gain. The Church cannot sanction 
 any such action as that. No, my friend, refuse 
 the bequest — the Church demands of you this 
 sacrifice. Come ! what say you ? Will you not 
 resolve to waive all claim on the inheritance for 
 Christ and our Lady ? " 
 
 The marquis, fascinated by the enthusiasm 
 and affectionate sympathy of the confessor^ 
 . hesitated but a moment before he answered — 
 
 '' Life is very short, father, and I have few 
 good deeds to help me out of purgatory. Yes, I 
 relinquish the estates, since you say It is right."
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. l6l 
 
 " Ecoutez done, Monsieur le Marquis, I have 
 been putting your faith to the test. It is true 
 that, as a general rule, he who accepts the gift 
 must likewise, in good faith, accept the con- 
 ditions of the gift ; but wisely have the fathers 
 provided that injury and sin shall not be com- 
 mitted by straining the rule and breaking 
 the spirit in which the rule is conceived. 
 Tenez, monsieur, the power to bequeath by 
 will is not given directly by God, but by men 
 living together in society. Now, society is 
 regulated and held together by the Holy 
 Church, and the Church has power to alter and 
 define the laws of society according as she 
 thinks best for the hio^hest interests of men. 
 Now, to bequeath property under conditions 
 known to be baneful to religion is to forfeit 
 all right to the protection of the Church ; and 
 accordingly we find it laid down expressly in the 
 best casuists that where conditions are attached 
 to testamentary bequests which endanger re- 
 ligious or moral life, the heir may neglect the 
 same without prejudice to his or her welfare." 
 
 The marquis stood open-mouthed for a few 
 seconds, then settled his pei^ruque, and, drawing 
 a handkerchief scented with musk across his 
 face, ejaculated — 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 1 62 ASYLUM CHRIST!. 
 
 '' Les petlts Dieux ! then the lad may take it 
 after all ! Good father, I owe you a thousand 
 thanks for your courtesy in listening to my 
 story ; and, morbleu ! I'll owe the little black 
 Virgin in Mont St. Michel a dozen wax 
 candles ! " 
 
 There was a crush in the room devoted to 
 the refection of the body : everybody was scram- 
 bling for spiced sack and creams, regardless of 
 his neighbour's toes, and the ladies were re- 
 ceiving the slender first-fruits of a feast pre- 
 sently to be devoured by the cavaliers, who 
 just now are looking as if the idea of food never 
 entered their head. Marie is standing by the 
 lieutenant, her little glove resting lightly on his 
 sleeve ; she has been so happy all the evening, 
 and her transparent complexion is flushed with 
 a delicate under-tint of rose which makes her 
 look more beautiful than usual. It is impos- 
 sible to move this way or that, so dense the 
 throng which presses them on both sides ; so 
 they glance at each other and whisper, and do 
 not find the pressure of the crowd so very 
 inconvenient after all ; and everybody is so 
 gay, and the duennas and the privileged old 
 chevaliers look so smilingly upon her, and pay 
 her most outrageous compliments.
 
 . ASYLUM CHRISTI. 1 63 
 
 " C est drole, mais c'est charmant ! " she con- 
 fides to Henri Guillot, who for his part would 
 give something if that pretty Httle hand were 
 laid in his by priest or pasteur. However, he 
 knows by an indefinable something in the 
 delicately soft touch of those fingers on his arm 
 that at present his star is in the ascendant. 
 
 A louder laugh than usual caused the lovers 
 to turn their heads, and they saw several eyes 
 directed towards them, and the Abbe Huet 
 cried — 
 
 " Is it true, Monsieur Lieutenant, what 4:hey 
 tell us about your commission and le grand 
 monarque ? " 
 
 " Yes, I believe so," said Henri, laughing, but 
 not quite relishing the joke. 
 
 " Oh, do tell me. Monsieur 1' Abbe," said Marie, 
 in a pleading voice ; for with a woman's quick- 
 ness she had divined it was something she 
 ought to know. 
 
 Then the abbe, who could not resist a good 
 story, even if the point of it stuck into his own 
 dignity, repeated what he had just heard — • 
 
 '' Eh bien, mademoiselle ! You must know 
 that his most Catholic Majesty has been lately 
 converted from the error of his ways, and his 
 royal repentance has assumed two forms — one
 
 164 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 moral, the other ecclesiastical ; In other words, 
 he has resolved to marry Madame de Main- 
 tenon, and he Intends, by God's assistance and 
 our worthy friends of the Order of Jesus, to 
 extirpate heresy — If monsieur votre pere will 
 pardon the term. Accordingly he sent orders 
 that all Huguenot officers should give up their 
 commissions, and the gallant lieutenant there 
 would have slid into a civilian had he not 
 fortunately had a friend at court." 
 
 " How very interesting!" cried Marie ; "and 
 did the good king relent ? " 
 
 '' There lies the gist of the story, made- 
 moiselle. The king was told that Lieutenant 
 Guillot was no Huguenot at all, and, in fact, 
 was a total disbeliever In the tenets of Calvin." 
 
 Marie just squeezed Henri's arm, and looked 
 up at him with a shy approving glance, and 
 thought, '' Then religion will not separate us." 
 
 " ' In fact,' said his friend, * Guillot is an 
 atheist ! ' " 
 
 " ' Comment ! ' said his Majesty smiling. ' Oh, 
 if he be an atheist, it is all well ; let the gentle- 
 man retain his commission.' " 
 
 A roar of laughter greeted the abbe's story, 
 but before it died down Henri heard, or thought 
 he heard, a sob. He looked at Marie ; her
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 1 65 
 
 face was turned from him. Suddenly the great 
 chapel bell tolled for a midnight service, and 
 the crowd began to break up into groups. As 
 soon as she could, Marie withdrew her arm from 
 the lieutenant's, and saying in a cold voice, 
 " Excusez-moi, monsieur," glided away. 
 
 It was a moment or two before Guillot could 
 realize the full bearing of events. He stood in 
 the centre of the room, stupefied by the sudden 
 catastrophe which had overtaken his heart's 
 dearest joy, feeling that he himself had created 
 the gulf which the learned chatterbox had so 
 thoughtlessly uncovered between himself and 
 her he loved. To prevent any explanations, he 
 had himself owned to the truth of the story. 
 
 As he stood biting his moustache, the Jesuit 
 confessor drew near. 
 
 *' Helas, mon ami ! I need not ask you to 
 accompany us to where the bell is calling us ; 
 at present you are young, and in the strength 
 of your youth cannot Ifit up your eyes to Him 
 who gave it. I know many a poor bedridden 
 cripple who is happier far than you, my son." 
 
 " Indeed you may, for I am most miserable," 
 faltered Guillot. 
 
 The priest gave him a sharp look out of 
 eyes that lightened with a strange flash of
 
 1 66 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 intelligence, then passed on with measured step 
 and lowered head. 
 
 As Beretti entered the chapel, he had 
 thought over some new combinations, and was 
 glad that so important a piece need not be 
 removed from the board. 
 
 It was a strange and startling transition from 
 the ball-room to the dimly lit chapel, from the 
 gay music of the paid performers to the deep 
 voices of the priests as they chaunted the 
 evening psalms. Yet madame had prevailed 
 upon the bishop to stay and conclude the fete, 
 as it had commenced, with prayer. There were 
 not many now assembled, but those who knelt 
 to-night were making no compliment to the 
 religious feelings of their hostess; they were 
 Catholics or large-hearted Huguenots, and the 
 vaulted roof re-echoed with heart-felt cries, the 
 aspirations of man's better nature. 
 
 The bishop had turned to pronounce the 
 benediction, but first offered a few earnest 
 remarks on the love of Christ which makes us 
 all one family, and asked the prayers of those 
 assembled that Christ would knit together in 
 His love the members of his diocese. 
 
 As the last words of the benediction died 
 away, a silence fell on all, broken only by a
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 1 67 
 
 wayward sob that ever and again seemed to 
 break away from the control of the weeper. 
 
 Then the tramp of a horse outside, and a 
 knocking at the chief entrance, and a sound of 
 many voices shouting, clashed upon the ears of 
 the silent worshippers ; and when the sieur was 
 passing out of the grille, a, courier, stained 
 with mud, ran forward, gave him a- packet of 
 papers, and whispered. The sieur turned 
 round gravely to his guests, and said simply, 
 ** Colbert est mort ! " The words were caught 
 up by the guests in the hall, and with blanched 
 cheek or exulting tone repeated: " Colbert est 
 mort!"
 
 1 68 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The Comte de Pontorson returned to his 
 chateau the day after the fete, and caused some 
 inconvenience to the old chatelaine, who had 
 not expected her lord home so soon. Indeed, 
 it was evident to the page who received his 
 cloak, and the valet who dressed his peruke, 
 that something had gone wrong with their 
 master ; and he did nothing but swear and drink 
 by the hour for ten days in succession after 
 returning from the Chateau de 1' Esprit. If he 
 spoke, it was in praise of dogs and in contempt 
 of women, so that la mere Clelie, as the good 
 housewife was called, would shake her head 
 wisely over a cup of sugared Rhenish with the 
 apothecary, and confess to having a shrewd 
 suspicion that Monsieur le Comte had been 
 snubbed by that little marmotcset, Mademoiselle 
 de Cornelli.
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 1 69 
 
 It was too true ! — the great financier, the 
 friend of the Huguenots, Colbert, was dead ! To 
 his contemporaries only a heavy, beetle-browed 
 man ! — one who would spend fourteen hours a 
 day stooping over his desk — a stern, harsh 
 refuser of applicants for comfortable sinecures, 
 unpleasantly honest in all his dealings, and 
 consummately indifferent to the squabbles of 
 Jesuit or Jansenist, of Catholic or Huguenot ; — 
 and so the gentle citizens of the gentlest city in 
 the world hooted his remains as they lay in 
 state, and compelled his sorrowing relatives to 
 whisk him off to St. Germains under coyer of 
 night ! What was it to them that he had 
 created a navy, and made, or tried to make, his 
 country independent of others as far as the 
 necessaries of life were concerned ? What 
 recked the bloated minions of Louis le Grand 
 of -attempts to cheapen food and encourage 
 commerce, arts, and letters ? He is dead ! The 
 old man, worn out with toil and saddened by 
 the failure of his dearest hopes, has migrated to 
 another clime, another planet perchance; but he 
 leaves his body behind him, and a fame clouded 
 by prejudice. As the one crumbles to decay, 
 the other will brighten ; but it will needs be 
 that an ungrateful people pass through the fire
 
 170 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 of affliction before they learn to recognize the 
 value of sincerity, truth, and honesty. 
 
 Colbert had supported the Huguenots be- 
 cause they were the best citizens, the best 
 traders, the most industrious and thriving part 
 of the community. Little by little encroach- 
 ments had been made by royal authority on the 
 sphere of exertion permitted to the Protestants. 
 First, the little shopkeepers, the needlewomen, 
 the laundresses, had the means of procuring a 
 living reft from them ; then the Interdict rose 
 higher in the scale of professions, and mer- 
 chants, officers, magistrates, were compelled to 
 abjure or forfeit their positions. And when 
 honest old Colbert was drawn away at a hand- 
 gallop through the dusky streets to his last 
 resting-place, there was no one left strong 
 enough or brave enough to plead for the 
 persecuted ; no, not even to say, " They are 
 useful to us — they are well-to-do and can pay 
 the king s taxes ; let them alone." 
 
 The summer months came and went as usual, 
 the sun shone just as fiercely on the backs of 
 the Reformed as on the best of Catholics, the 
 green trees did not refuse their shade to them, 
 and the birds sang to them in the branches ; 
 but their Norman neighbours began to look
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. I7I 
 
 askant at them ; the priest when he met them 
 would cross the road to avoid them ; if they 
 were sick, they must not call in the pasteur ; if 
 they chose to die, they must get themselves 
 buried before six o'clock in the morning, or, if 
 they prefer it, after six in the evening — and 
 woe be to the mourner who shall presume to 
 offer up a prayer aloud ! When they sing their 
 psalms in their temples they must stop sud- 
 denly, even in the middle of a canticle, should 
 the Host pass by outside ; if their temples are 
 built in the vicinity of a church the mob ipay 
 burn them to tf^e ground. Should there be any 
 scoundrels amongst them ready and willing to 
 forswear their faith for a trifle, the generous 
 Pelisson will reward them at the price of six 
 livres per convert ; and, to prevent any mis- 
 takes, the converted shall have given him a 
 certificate, duly made out and signed by the 
 authorities upon the back of the knave of 
 spades or the king of clubs, as the case may be 
 — and it shall be known amongst the Reformed 
 as " the mark of the beast." 
 
 Such grows to be the condition of affairs at 
 Coutances shortly after Marie's fete. The Cpmte 
 de Pontorson comes no more to the chateau, 
 for he has pressed his suit to little purpose,
 
 172 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 and, like a spoilt boy crying for what he cannot 
 have, he is sulkily sipping his life away. The 
 Jesuit was not invited to prolong his visit, and 
 so he took a lodging with his sacred confreres 
 near the cathedral, much to the excellent 
 bishop's dismay, whose Gallican tendencies were 
 leading him further and further out of sympathy 
 with the policy of the Order of Jesus. There, 
 however, he had installed himself, like a cat 
 watching a lion, and the pitted cheeks of the 
 Benedictine were a familiar object \.o\ki^ gamins 
 of the streets of Coutances. 
 
 Madame de Cornelli came as usual at stated 
 times to worship at the altars and present 
 trinkets and wax-candles to the Virgin ; and 
 not unfrequently when she whispered her 
 shortcomings in the confessional, it was Father 
 Beretti who apportioned her penance. 
 
 Lieutenant Henri had never seen Marie 
 again since she left him so brusquely in the 
 ball-room ; but as old Pierre drove him in 
 madame's glass-coach to Avranches, he handed 
 him a billet sealed with wax and tied with 
 tape, which billet the lieutenant opened when 
 he saw that his father was comfortably asleep 
 in a corner of the coach, and which ran as 
 follows : —
 
 asylum christi. i 73 
 
 " Henri, 
 
 " Forgive me If I seem to you to judge 
 rashly, but I owe it to my father and good 
 mother, as well as to myself, to tell you at once, 
 before it has become irreparable, that there are 
 reasons why you and I can never marry, and 
 why, if we did marry, we could never be happy. 
 Think kindly of me, Henri; and, oh ! if you 
 knew what pain it gives my wicked heart to 
 pen these few lines, you would appreciate the 
 motive which prompts them. Adieu ! 
 
 " MarieJ' 
 
 The young man kissed the blurred lines 
 reverently, and placed the letter of dismissal 
 as tenderly in his breast as if it promised him 
 his heart's desire. Such is youth ! — strong and 
 hopeful and trusting ! — and who can say to 
 youth, " Try not ; it is impossible " ? 
 
 It was now the summer of 1685. The little 
 town of Coutances had been gay with ribbons 
 and banners, and processions of priests had 
 paraded the streets all the morning, with their 
 usual appendage of gaping women and squall- 
 ing babes ; but the hot afternoon had cleared 
 the open spaces of loungers — nothing stirred in
 
 174 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 the glaring sunshine but an occasional cat, and 
 the flags drooped lazily from the gable ends 
 of the houses. You would have said that all 
 Coutances was asleep had not yonder side- 
 door In the old cathedral kept up an Inter- 
 mittent creaking, as old women hobbled in or 
 hobbled out. Is It because the air is so 
 dellciously cool here that vespers have drawn 
 so goodly a show of worshippers ? or have the 
 country people flocked into the town to see the 
 fine doings this holy day ? See ! beyond those 
 iron gates which separate the chancel from the 
 choir are faces familiar to us two years ago. 
 There sits the little secretary, very demurely 
 .perusing his Paternoster, as if It were entirely 
 new to him and It needed all his attention 
 to decipher It ; there is the clear-cut profile 
 of Monsieur I'Eveque, a striking contrast to 
 Father Beauvais, who sits opposite to him ; 
 there too are BerettI and Brother Francis, and 
 a dozen more, mostly with withered faces and 
 decrepid frames, or labouring under a mountain 
 of too-solid flesh. 
 
 And here, amongst the throng of women who 
 cluster by the grdlle, are two faces we recognize. 
 The younger has her eyes fixed upon the dark, 
 melancholy face In front of her; but it Is not
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. I 75 
 
 the mitre which attracts her gaze. A young 
 woman's religion is almost always personal, 
 and Marie de Cornelli has many chords In the 
 diapason of her being which strike in harmony 
 with her bishop. But she glances aside every 
 now and then with a look of anxiety at the pale 
 face of her who sits beside her — she places her a 
 footstool, and tenders her the phial of salts and 
 vinegar. 
 
 The toothless goodies who notice these atten- 
 tions on the part of Marie drop their beads 
 and whisper together, nodding their wise heads 
 and shrugging their surprised shoulders. The 
 intelligence passes quickly down the nave to 
 the old beggar woman who sits clinking two 
 sous in a tin box at the western door. One 
 would think it was a part of the evening service, 
 so decorously is the news passed from one row 
 of chairs to another. 
 
 What news ? So said the old men, who sat on 
 the other side of the cathedral, and could not 
 for the life of them make out what all the 
 gossips were making such a fuss about. 
 
 As for Madame de Cornelli, the tears were 
 blinding her eyes too much for her to see the 
 interest which she had evoked in the feminine 
 portion of this inquisitive little country town.
 
 176 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 When the good fathers had got through their 
 vespers, and the last fat priest had disappeared 
 into the vestiarium, and the old oak door was 
 creaking and banging to the exit of humble 
 worshippers, Madame de Cornelli, folding her 
 black lace veil closely over her face, walked 
 slowly to the south aisle of the cathedral, and 
 entered one of the confessionals. Marie was 
 joined by a handsome blue-eyed boy of about 
 fourteen, whose black velvet doublet, relieved by 
 a narrow collar of lace, threw into relief a clear 
 pink and white complexion. To compare the 
 complexions of the two was to see at once that 
 they were brother and sister, though in other 
 respects their faces presented few points of 
 similarity : the blue eyes and straight nose of the 
 boy were in full contrast to the dark grey eyes, 
 black eye-lashes, and slightly upturned nose 
 of his sister. When we saw them last he was 
 but a child ; two years have put more than the 
 same number of inches to his stature, and 
 Philippe treads the old slabs of the cathedral 
 church with just a touch of conscious self- 
 importance. 
 
 The two retired to a corner on the north-west 
 side, arid, seating themselves on two chairs, 
 awaited the approach of their mother. Marie
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. .177 
 
 took out a little book and began to read. 
 Philippe, in pensive thought, tapped lightly 
 on the pavement with his riding-whip. This 
 continued for some minutes ; at length he looked 
 up— 
 
 " Ma mie, what is that you are reading so 
 earnestly ? " 
 
 " Les Fleurs des Saints," replied his sister, 
 dropping the book on her knees. 
 
 " I wish, Marie, my mother would not confess 
 to that fellow Beretti ! Why can't she be con- 
 tent with Beauvais, I wonder ? " . , 
 
 " Father Beretti is a much more cultivated 
 man, you must allow." 
 
 " Oh yes, cultivated with a vengeance ! He 
 is like our new gardener : he is for cutting 
 off the dead branches before they die, to show 
 his skill and zeal in gardening — all very well 
 for healthy shoots like you and my mother." 
 
 " Mon petit frere, speak not so loud, I beseech 
 you. You frighten me when you talk like that. 
 What grounds have you for such ideas ? " 
 
 " Comment done ! is he not a Jesuit ? and 
 are not the Jesuits the spring that moves the 
 king and that Madame Maintenon ? and have 
 not Catholics and Huguenots been set by 
 the ears ever since Beretti came down to 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 Coutances ? and does not ma mere come away 
 weeping from his confessional ? Why, then, 
 does she weep ? " 
 
 *' Nay, mon frere, I can hardly follow you, so 
 rapid are your questions. But — is that old 
 priest within ear-shot, think you ? " 
 
 Philippe turned in the direction indicated, and 
 bending his head, whispered — '' Speak low, 
 Marie, and the chien will not overhear us." 
 
 " Well ! I, like you, thought that something 
 was on my mother's mind, and one afternoon 
 as I passed her room I heard her praying aloud. 
 The words came so distinctly to my ear that I 
 could not help hearing, and, indeed, something 
 made me pause and listen. She was sobbing 
 and crying out — ' If It be possible, let Thy 
 servant be spared this cup of sorrow, sweet 
 Lord ! Ah ! tender-hearted Marie ! thou hast 
 been a wife and canst feel with me. Plead for 
 me, that I may not be obliged to quit my 
 husband, my dear, sweet heretic ! Ah ! if it be 
 possible!' Such and more la pauvre bonne 
 mere ejaculated, and a great knot mounted in 
 my throat, Phil, and I ran away with oh ! such 
 wicked thoughts in my heart ! " 
 
 The brother looked very grave for some 
 minutes, sighed, and said —
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. I 79 
 
 *' Then it Is as I thought. I must tell my 
 father ; it will decide him to leave the old place, 
 I fear — la belle Normandie, and all the dear-asso- 
 ciations of home. Oh, Marie, you should have 
 told me this before ! That wily Jesuit wants our 
 mother to go into a convent, sans doute ; then 
 he will push my father into open conflict with 
 the clergy, and, of course, the hare will either 
 leave her form for the pursuers or will be eaten 
 up skin and bone." 
 
 " I can't think it right of the confessor to give 
 such counsel," said Marie ; " if indeed it be he 
 who so advises my mother." 
 
 '' (^a-mon, ma foi ! surely you cannot find 
 fault with it, since you did the very same thing 
 yourself when you threw off Henri." 
 
 The colour mounted into Marie's cheeks, and 
 a tear sparkled on the dark lashes that fringed 
 her eyes, as she replied — 
 
 *' God knows, I did it for the best. It was a 
 hard struggle of conscience against heart, as you 
 know. I loved him then ; I thought he loved 
 me ; but all that is changed now. He forgot 
 me sooner even than I had — than I had ex- 
 pected. He left the king's service, and never 
 said ' adieu ' to my father, who loved him so 
 well. Was I not right in refusing his hand, mon 
 cher ? "
 
 l8o ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 '' I was too young to notice much at the time, 
 but I remember the passionate way he took me 
 up in his arms the next morning, when he 
 was starting for Avranches, kissed me on both 
 cheeks, forehead and mouth, and in his confusion 
 murmured, * Adieu, Marie ! ' " 
 
 The tears were falHng steahhily on the pave- 
 ment. Marie put up her hand and adjusted a 
 demi-mask of black velvet, which she sometimes 
 wore out of doors, and which concealed the 
 brow and eyes. 
 
 Philippe drew a miniature portrait, set in 
 pearls, from his bosom. " This was sent to me 
 a few days after he left by Henri — it is his 
 mother's likeness. I never received it ; but 
 this morning, as I was ransacking one of my 
 mother's drawers, I found it wrapped in a 
 piece of paper and addressed to me. I took 
 it up, and found a few words scrawled here 
 on the back — ' To the one who loves me 
 best' Will you take it, Marie ? It is a curious 
 old portrait." 
 
 Perhaps the young lady did not notice the 
 slight tone of raillery in which Philippe's words 
 were uttered. She answered calmly — 
 
 " Give it me, mon mignon ; it is his mother s 
 portrait — he valued it above all other posses-
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. l8l 
 
 sions. You had better let me keep it — for a 
 time. " 
 
 And so the grand old lady In her pearl bor- 
 der once more changed hands. Marie held It 
 in her hand and gazed upon it till the tears 
 blinded her and she could no longer distinguish 
 the lineaments of that weather-beaten face. 
 She murmured something of '' Papa's dear 
 friend," and kissed it on the score of fond 
 antiquity ; but Philippe was not to be taken 
 in by such wiles as these, and loftily curled the 
 lip of scorn, with all the hauteur of a fourteen- 
 year-old philosopher. 
 
 The portrait was hardly consigned to a warm 
 place near Maries heart when a tall veiled 
 figure approached them. There was something 
 just now rankling in Marie's heart concerning 
 the keeping back of the miniature which made 
 her turn away from her mother with a momen- 
 tary feeling of dislike. Philippe, on the other 
 hand, pressed his mother's arm tenderly, and 
 said, " We have thought you long to-day, sweet 
 mother ! I fear you have tired yourself, and 
 you have been crying ! Ah ! we must take 
 you to see le bon eveque : he will give you 
 comfort, and not sorrow, like some do." 
 
 " Mon cher petit, thank you for your kind 
 sympathy ; thank you, dear boy ! "
 
 I 82 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 And the white hand carried a kerchief to 
 wipe the Winding tears away. The boy's 
 words had gone like arrows to her heart, for 
 her struggle in the confessional had been to 
 learn to surrender him and his father for the 
 greater glory of God ; and now this burst of 
 boyish sympathy had made the old wells of 
 natural affection overflow again ; but there was 
 no look of sympathy from the daughter, whose 
 religion ought to have drawn her closer to her 
 mother, for whose sake the latter was prepared 
 to sacrifice much that was dear ! 
 
 As the three passed out of the north-west 
 door the old hag in the corner clinked her 
 sous, and a few deniers were added to the 
 store, in return for which she bestowed her 
 blessing on le petit monseigneur et mesdames. 
 As they walked down the narrow street to- 
 wards the hostel *' La France," where Pierre 
 and Maintenon were waiting for them with the 
 calecke, they were met suddenly, nearly opposite 
 the Church of St. Nicholas, by a crowd of 
 men, women, and boys, who, with loud shouts 
 and roars of laughter, were tugging at some 
 heavy object which was partly carried and 
 partly dragged along the roadway. 
 
 Madame de Cornelli would have fared ill
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 1 83 
 
 against so rude a mob, had not a mule which 
 was tethered to a ring in the wall afforded her 
 a moment's shelter. Instinctively she pulled 
 Marie between the mule and the wall, and the 
 surging crowd would have gone by without 
 harm had not the burden which they were 
 carrying slipt from the shoulders of the bearers 
 and fallen just opposite the mule with a metallic 
 clank upon the hard stones. Thereupon arose 
 a fresh burst of merriment, and one little ruffian, 
 recognizing Philippe, cried out, " Ventrebleu ! 
 the beast of a Huguenot bell is doing homage 
 to the young lord there. Flog it, mes amis, 
 flog the beast of a bell ! " 
 
 And accordingly, some with sticks and some 
 with their leathern aprons set to and be- 
 laboured the heretical bell, till the place rang 
 with the echoes of the bell-metal. The most 
 furious blows, however, were those dealt by the 
 women, some of whom had taken off their 
 wooden sabots to give the coup- de-gr dee to the 
 object of their fury ; and the devilish gestures 
 of these terrnagants were in strange contrast 
 with the gaiety of the boys and men, to whom 
 these proceedings were more of a facetious 
 piece of horse-play than an act of religious 
 retribution.
 
 184 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 As the crowd gathered round more densely, 
 and coarse words came to the ears of the Cor- 
 nelH family, making madame fold her daughter 
 closely to her bosom, as if to shield her eyes 
 and ears from impurity, a square black cap and 
 a red face were thrust out of a window just 
 above them, and a husky voice cried out — 
 
 " Would madame please to accept the shelter 
 of an apothecary's poor lodging until the lewd 
 folk disperse ? " 
 
 "A thousand thanks, Monsieur I'Apothicairie," 
 cried madame eagerly. 
 
 Instantly a little door was opened, and the 
 apothecary in his long black gown stood bowing, 
 and conducted his guests into the best parlour. 
 
 *' I regret to say that Madame Bienaise is 
 not able to do the honours to my Lady de 
 Cornelli ; that good woman is, pour le moment, 
 engaged with her young baby upstairs, or she 
 
 would only be too proud. May I ? " and 
 
 the polite apothecary handed his guests a little 
 tray of confitures heaped about a silver goblet 
 of muscadine, being an attention which he re- 
 served for patients of the highest quality. 
 
 Madame declined the proffered gift with a 
 gracious smile, and inquired after the health of 
 Madame Bienaise, adding —
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 1 85 
 
 *' I was not aware, monsieur, that you were 
 blessed with any children." 
 
 ** Non, madame, it is but of recent date. 
 My wife and I, we have lived together now 
 these fifteen years, and no little one came to 
 bless our house ; but at last we bethought us 
 of a plan — and I wonder it escaped us so long 
 — it was as follows : my wife was to make a 
 pilgrimage to Mont St. Michel; she was to 
 make her vows (and some little offerings, too) 
 to the black Virgin in the chapel there, then 
 she was to return to her husband — c'est mgi — 
 and then ! why then, madame, she was to wait 
 and see if the black Virgin had deigned to 
 hear our little petition. Voila ! il est accompli 
 enfin ! " 
 
 *' How very interesting ! and when was the 
 babe born ? " asked madame. 
 
 *' This morning, madame, as I was eating 
 my omelette ; Jesu be praised ! " 
 
 The two ladies gave little exclamations ot 
 surprise, and as the apothecary turned to offer 
 a glass of sack to Philippe, Marie could not 
 resist whispering to her mother, " That good 
 woman is engaged— /^?^r le moinent ! " 
 
 Philippe had been gazing out of the narrow 
 window which looked into the street; as the
 
 l86 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 apothecary craved his acceptance of a glass of 
 wine, he turned round and asked him if he 
 knew the meaning of all the uproar going on 
 outside, and why they were dragging about a 
 bell 
 
 '' Is It possible ! " cried M. Bienalse. " Have 
 not my noble guests heard that an order has 
 come from Paris for the demolition of all the 
 temples in the province ? Non ! 11 est vrai 
 maintenant. And the gar9ons yonder have 
 seized the bell which used to call the Reformed 
 to prayers, and God knows what they mean 
 to do next ! " 
 
 '' And there is old Pierre talking to the 
 lanthorn-jawed mason, and screwing up all his 
 features into one," cried Philippe. 
 
 " And see, monseigneur, how quietly my 
 good mule takes it all ! " 
 
 " Of course. Monsieur I'Apothicalre, your 
 mule is a patient. I doubt not you try on 
 him the potency of your clysters and your 
 soporifics." 
 
 " Ah ! It is a wise animal that ; he never 
 minds other people's business." 
 
 " But I have a mind to see the end of this 
 same bell," said Philippe to his mother ; " you 
 and Marie are safe here under such excellent
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 1 8 7 
 
 protection — I will but join Pierre outside for a 
 short space." 
 
 They tried to persuade the boy to remain 
 prudently with them ; but an only son is 
 seldom guided by the advice of a fond mother 
 at the mature age of fourteen, and entreaties 
 only fired his adventurous spirit the more. He 
 saluted the apothecary and went out. . 
 
 On the top of the bell, which still lay where 
 it had fallen, a little man with a bald head was 
 standing and addressing the crowd in excited 
 and angry tones. At the end of each sentence 
 he paused and looked round for applause, which 
 was given him in a low, subdued murmur of 
 assent. As Philippe approached he was getting 
 out of breath, and some such words as these he 
 uttered with a snappish voice — 
 
 ''He bien, mes amis ! if these things be so — 
 if I have told the truth about these lying, 
 traitorous, atheistical Huguenots," (" II est 
 vrai ! " murmured the crowd) " if they want to 
 pull down the priest from the altar and the 
 king from his throne," ('' Les maudits ! ") " how 
 long, I ask — how long shall these scelerats 
 cumber the ground ? " 
 
 " Get down, get down ! " cried a fat, burly 
 priest, who was edging his way through the
 
 155 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 throng. The rubicund priest was popular, and 
 the crowd shouted " Descendez done ! " to their 
 orator. 
 
 But his descent was prematurely balked by 
 the sudden raising of the bell upon the 
 shoulders of the mob, who, with infinite laughter, 
 now watched the funny efforts of the chagrined 
 prophet to preserve his balance upon the 
 wooden frame-work of the bell. 
 
 " This is no place for you and me, Monsieur 
 Philippe," said Pierre, as they rubbed shoulders 
 with the fruiterer's errand boy and laundress's 
 apprentice, and followed the crowd up by the 
 cathedral, and away again to the left. 
 
 Philippe made no reply, but silently nudged 
 the old serviteur, and nodded to the bell which 
 went before. On they went through the 
 narrow, winding streets, now lying in shadow, 
 as the evening sun inclined to the Gulf of St. 
 Malo ; and as they passed by the stalls of the 
 merchants and the booths of the vendors of 
 sweets and ecclesiastical trinkets, old goodies 
 came out a-gape, or ran within to fetch their 
 wooden sabots, in haste to see the sport that 
 was toward. 
 
 When at length the procession reached a 
 level space on the outskirts of the town, which
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 1 89 
 
 was planted with limes and looked towards the 
 east on a sheer fall of some three hundred feet 
 into the valley, and commanded an extensive 
 view over undulating fields and forest — there the 
 bell was deposited ; the little sallow-faced, bald- 
 headed orator was glad to reach terra firma ; 
 and there was a hush of some seconds while 
 the chief conspirators discussed the next stage 
 in the proceedings. At length a circle was 
 made about '' the heretic," and two or three 
 delvers who chanced to be passing at the time 
 were pressed into the service, and exhorted to 
 dig a grave big enough to contain " le monstre." 
 Then some one arrayed himself in the frock 
 and broad black cap of the pasteur, and was 
 proceeding to read a burial service in mock 
 solemn tones, while others, catching at the 
 spirit of the thing, lifted up their voices and 
 wailed in well-counterfeited grief, when the 
 tall form and long white hair of La Rose, the 
 Protestant pasteur, was seen approaching. In- 
 stinctively the circle cleft itself and made way 
 for him to pass through. He went straight up 
 to the chief performer, and, arresting him in his 
 utterances by a pat on the shoulder, proclaimed 
 in a loud voice, with a good-natured twinkle 
 lighting up his fine grey eyes, and the many-
 
 TQO ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 circling lines of his face melting into a genial 
 smile — 
 
 '' Mes enfants, do you not know the law ? I 
 must give you fair warning that you are this 
 day making yourselves amenable to the king's 
 officers for breaking his laws concerning the 
 conduct of heretics. Mais oui, mes enfants ! 
 What do I see here ? — a pasteur reading a burial 
 service in the open air ! Messieurs, il est 
 defendu ! it must not be ! — encore, mes amis, a 
 Heretic is about to be buried before six of the 
 clock ! Messieurs, il est defendu ! it must not 
 be ! — encore, mes amis, will you bury a creature 
 before life is extinct ? Speak ! tell these kind 
 people. Mademoiselle la Cloche, that you will 
 wait three quarters of an hour before you bury 
 yourself ! " 
 
 And the aged pasteur seized the tongue of 
 the bell and gave four vigorous pulls, making 
 the silent evening clash out into such sudden 
 echoes that the rooks flew cawing about the 
 trees affrighted. There was a great roar of 
 laughter at this unexpected ending of the 
 service, and cries of "Vive La Rose!" rent the 
 air. 
 
 The old man replaced his chapeau, which he 
 had held in his hand during his appeal to the
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. I9I 
 
 people, and had some difficulty In answering to 
 all the requests to shake hands which were 
 pressed upon him by the fickle crowd. 
 
 " The time is not yet," muttered an ill- 
 looking fellow to his neighbour, as they left 
 the lime-grove in disgust. 
 
 '' No," replied the other in a foreign accent ; 
 '* these Frenchmen will be friends with any one 
 who tickles their stomach or their fancy ! " 
 
 As Philippe stood watching the dispersing 
 crowd, the lean and lanky mason approached 
 him, doffed his cap, and suggested that, in the 
 excited state of the townsfolk, it would be 
 better to conduct madame and mademoiselle 
 home as quickly as possible. 
 
 " To be sure ! " said Philippe with a conse- 
 quential air. ''You speak with your usual pru- 
 dence, Maitre Durand. But what is this ? " 
 
 Durand was offering a scrap of paper for 
 acceptance. 
 
 " Would Monsieur Philippe be so kind as 
 to bear this to his respected father ? It is a 
 request from the elders of the church." 
 
 As Philippe and Pierre retraced their steps, 
 the old serviteur sang under his breath, "They 
 imagined a mischievous device, which they are 
 not able to perform."
 
 192- ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Three days after the events recorded in the 
 last chapter there was a party of peasant 
 women and young girls busily engaged in 
 beating dirty linen with smooth stones from 
 the brook which runs through the valley at 
 the foot of Coutances. It was a hot noon-tide, 
 and the birds, having more leisure than those 
 who consider themselves their superiors, had 
 withdrawn to their leafy coverts, whence, in 
 calm indifference, they blinked their eyes at the 
 motes which floated between them and the grey 
 cathedral, or nodded off into the drowsy realms 
 of Morpheus. But human beings, being so 
 superior, must wash their dirty linen in sun- 
 shine and in shade ; and to-day those who can 
 have spread their sheets and stockings beneath 
 the willow-trees which fringe the banks of the 
 purling brook, watched by merry little children, 
 black-eyed and hollow-cheeked — for food is
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 1 93 
 
 passing dear when you have great victories 
 to pay for. The mothers and the elder sisters 
 are busy down there below amongst the 
 boulders and the rushing water, and many a 
 jest floats on the still air, and many a ringing 
 laugh is answered by the inquisitive rooks from 
 their eyrie in the lime-walk opposite. 
 
 There is a little wooden bridge over the 
 brook, and a footpath rises up the steep ac- 
 clivity on . the further side, leading to an out- 
 lying hamlet. A few paces up this footpath 
 and you come to a snug little cottage on •the 
 right, garlanded with jessamine and roses, 
 having in front of it a tiny garden, cultivated 
 within an inch of its existence, from the end 
 of which you can look down upon the bubbling 
 streamlet. There are two children there now, 
 one a little girl of seven years with deep-set, 
 lustrous eyes, and another about three years 
 older ; the younger is seated on a rustic bench, 
 propped up with an old bolster, the elder 
 stands by her side, weaving a garland of wild 
 flowers. From time to time they look over the 
 hedge and kiss their hands to a nice-looking 
 woman who is w^ashing apart from the rest, at 
 a little distance down the stream, unnoticed by 
 her fellow labourers. 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 194 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 *' Would you like to walk about the garden 
 now ? " said Marguerite, the elder, to her young 
 sister Jeannette, who is recovering from rheu- 
 matic fever, and half reclined over the back 
 of the seat to watch the process of washing, 
 wringing, and drying, and to encourage her 
 mother with private nods and mystic wavings 
 of emaciated fingers. 
 
 *' Non, non, Marguerite ; let me be, let me 
 be a while ! See, there is mammy working, 
 working so hard down yonder, and no one 
 helps her, no one speaks kindly to her; non, 
 ma petite, let me stay here a while — mammy 
 loves to see her pauvre mignonne looking at 
 her. See ! she looks up and smiles ! Ah ! 
 comme je suis heureuse ! " 
 
 Marguerite looked wonderingly at her sister. 
 She could not comprehend the infinite delicacy 
 of feeling that kept that poor wasted child 
 gazing there hours together, till la mere re- 
 turned with the big basket on her head, and 
 the wooden clogs clattered on the sanded floor 
 of the kitchen. It is only sickness that brings 
 out prematurely and ripely the full sympathies 
 of which the heart is capable. The one sister, 
 straight and strong, brown as a berry, needing 
 no sympathy and capable of giving little in
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 1 95 
 
 return ; the other bent and enfeebled, with 
 cheeks of ashen grey — one who had plucked the 
 flower Love out of the nettle Suffering, a child 
 in mind, a woman full-grown in heart, and 
 thrilling in every fibre in sympathy with her 
 who had smoothed the crumpled pillow, and 
 whispered the prayer of faith in the silent 
 watches of the night ; and now to do what 
 she could to help that patient mother was her 
 only delight. And the dark eyes lit up her 
 colourless face like two lamps as she lisped, 
 ** Ah ! comme je suis heureuse ! " 
 
 " And now. Marguerite," she said, ** go down 
 and help mother wring the linen, for I shall do 
 very well here. I begin to feel so well, now 
 that the sun shines, and my bones don't ache 
 as they used." 
 
 Marguerite was glad to avail herself of the 
 opportunity to be away and be doing something 
 active with her brawny limbs. With bare feet 
 and lanky brown legs she sped down the path 
 and across the wooden bridge, and was by her 
 mother's side in an instant. Her mother turned 
 upon her a young face grown old before its time, 
 and with a little bitterness cried — 
 
 " I thought I told you not to leave Jeannette ! 
 You are no use at all ; you don't do as you are 
 bid ; you are naughty — go away I "
 
 196 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 The child pouted and dug her great toe 
 deep in the sand at the bottom of the stream, 
 making great bubbles float to the surface. The 
 mother went on with her work, the child 
 continued her sulky explorations for several 
 minutes, and neither spoke. At last the brown 
 face looked up at the hedge, then ventured to 
 draw near her mother and whisper — 
 
 '' See, mother, little Jeannette is smiling 
 at us ! " 
 
 The mother turned and kissed her hand. 
 She was no longer angry with Marguerite — the 
 smile of the little sick child had soothed her 
 fretting nerves. It was a ray from heaven, and 
 she seemed to see written up over the fire-place, 
 in her husband's own writing, the familiar text, 
 " Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall 
 inherit the kingdom of heaven." 
 
 Mother and daughter began to work together. 
 There was a goodly pile to get through before 
 all was done, for M. Arnaud, the Huguenot 
 chirurgeon, was about to marry his daughter 
 this week, and that made " extra washing for 
 extra pay," as the mother cheerfully observed to 
 her little girl. 
 
 '' I'm sure we need not grumble," she added, 
 '* for now the works at the cathedral are shut
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 1 97 
 
 against your poor father, it is little enough he 
 can earn to buy his wife and children bread 
 and pottage ; though, to be sure, he is the 
 cunningest master-mason in all Coutances, and 
 Monseigneur I'Eveque himself said that one of 
 his angels' faces that he carved in the Lady 
 Chapel was equal to your tip-top masons at 
 Paris yonder. However, God's will be done ! 
 It is a weary, wicked world ! Look alive there, 
 Marguerite ! " 
 
 With these' reflections the poor laundress 
 pounded away at M. Arnaud's linen with Qiore 
 vigour than discretion ; and when the good 
 chirurgeon again settled his cravat and pulled 
 out his full sleeves, he might have noticed with 
 small satisfaction sundry tiny indications of 
 schism. 
 
 We' left the little Jeannette in the garden 
 above. She had not remained long alone, 
 before a sound of voices in conversation met 
 her ear ; she turned from the hedge, and, taking 
 her stick, limped across the little garden path 
 to see who were coming. Down the footpath 
 were proceeding leisurely two persons : Jean- 
 nette could only see their heads, on account of 
 the gooseberry bush which grew between, but 
 in this case the hat betrayed the man. She
 
 198 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 drew back at the sight with an instinctive 
 feehng of alarm. She had lived long enough 
 to dread those clerical beavers, and the smooth 
 faces that had smiled so treacherously beneath 
 them. As she sat on her father's knee at night 
 and drank in with thirsty ears the tales of 
 priestly cruelty which he would detail to her 
 with something of savage vengeance in his 
 tone, she had learned to dread the cassock and 
 the cowl ; and so away she limped. But to her 
 horror the priests paused at the entrance to the 
 cottage ; she heard them mention her father s 
 name; and before she could hide herself they 
 were upon her, and were calling to her to stop. 
 
 " Come hither, little daughter," said Brother 
 Francis, for it was he ; " come hither and tell 
 us where your father is gone ; fear not, petite." 
 
 Jeannette turned and put her finger* in the 
 corner of her mouth, and hung her head in- 
 decisively. " The voice is gentle," thought she. 
 
 The two priests approached. One stroked 
 her head, the other admired her garland of wild 
 flowers. 
 
 " Can you weave garlands ? " he asked. 
 
 " Oh yes, I am so fond of flowers," said 
 Jeannette. 
 
 '' Ah ! that is very charming," said the taller
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 1 99 
 
 of the two — the same priest whom Beretti dis- 
 missed so unceremoniously from the gidlle of 
 the chapel in the chateau on Marie's fete-day. 
 
 Then the two priests spoke together in a 
 language she could not follow. '' Nonne melius 
 foret hanc avertere, aut saltem temptare ? " 
 said one. " Videtur," said the tall priest, 
 sententiously pursing' up his lips. Jeannette 
 began to fear they were going to repeat the 
 Commandments backwards in Latin and raise 
 the devil to carry her off. She looked about, 
 but there was no one in sight. 
 
 " Would you like to see the flowers that hang 
 in the great church on the hill yonder 1 " said 
 Brother Francis insinuatingly. 
 
 " Oh no, monsieur, I should be afraid, for 
 you know " and the little one stopped sud- 
 denly and looked down on the sandalled feet of 
 her interrogator, feeling that she had committed 
 herself. 
 
 " You are not afraid to go, are you ? Come 
 with us and hang that garland on the sweet 
 Mother of our Lord ; won't you ? " 
 
 ''Who is she, monsieur.^ If she h^ gejttille, I 
 should be afraid." 
 
 The priests could scarcely restrain a smile at 
 the child's simplicity.
 
 200 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 " What ! I am sure a good little girl like you 
 knows who our Lord is — Jesus Christ, who died 
 on the cross for little girls." 
 
 Jeannette curtseyed at the holy name, and 
 replied warmly, " Oh ! parfaltement, m'sieur ; 
 I pray to Him often, very often." 
 
 '' Well done ! that is right, ma chere ; and do 
 you not also pray to His sweet, kind Mother, 
 who loves those who love her son ? " 
 
 '' I have never seen her — never heard father 
 and mother talk of her." 
 
 " Ah ! that is a pity. Well, If you like to 
 come with us to the great church up there, we 
 will show her to you, and you shall offer her 
 those pretty flowers, and you shall ask her to 
 help father and mother ; and I doubt not the 
 Blessed Virgin will listen to your prayers." 
 
 "I should like to ask her to bless my. poor 
 father, monsieur ; he is so ^ris^e, now the abbe 
 has stopped his working at the angels." 
 
 '' Ah ! le pauvre homme ! You should pray 
 to our Lady of Grace who lives in the great 
 cathedral. She is very kind to little girls." 
 
 Jeannette wavered a moment between fear of 
 the priests and the desire to benefit her parents. 
 At last she said boldly — 
 
 '' I cannot walk, you see, because I have been
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 201 
 
 ill ; but if I 'COuld climb up so far, I should so 
 like to pray to the Lady " 
 
 The tall priest ran down the steep path and 
 beckoned one of the women to follow him. 
 When he had brought her to Jeannette, he 
 said — 
 
 " Madame Godet, I prythee witness what 
 follows." 
 
 The woman thus addressed folded her arms 
 akimbo and grinned. 
 
 Brother Francis continued his questions. 
 " And how old are you, my little girl ? " 
 
 '' I am just seven years, monsieur." 
 
 ** And what is your name, ma chere ? " 
 
 '* Jeannette Durand, if it please you," she said,, 
 with a curtsey. 
 
 " Take notice, Madame Godet, that Jean- 
 nette Durand is seven years old," said the tall 
 priest, raising his forefinger. 
 
 *' And why do you wish to enter yon great 
 church ? " asked the Benedictine, with the air of 
 a man who is about to give checkmate. 
 
 " Because, monsieur, my father is so triste, 
 and I do so wish to pray to the good Mother of 
 Jesus Christ up yonder." 
 
 The two priests turned to their witness with 
 uplifted hands ; she in her turn ejaculated the
 
 202 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 words " Mon Dieu ! " in astonishment, then ran 
 forward and kissed Jeannette, then ran down 
 and told her friends how Httle Jeannette had 
 been converted. And when Brother Francis 
 appeared with the Httle one in his arms, all the 
 girls and women had run to the bridge to stare 
 at her. 
 
 Madame Durand had been labouring so 
 steadily with Marguerite that she had not 
 noticed at first the excitement amongst the 
 women ; but when a general clatter of tongues 
 greeted the two priests as they crossed the 
 stream, she looked up, and, to her great amaze- 
 ment, saw Jeannette leaning over the Bene- 
 dictine's shoulder and waving her hand. 
 Around her pressed a crowd of women ; some 
 crying, others invoking blessings on the new 
 disciple, and others looking half ashamed 
 towards the poor mother whose child was 
 being carried off " to the greater glory of God." 
 As for Madame Durand, as she afterwards 
 explained her feelings to a friend, she was " took 
 all-no-how," and the marrow seemed to be 
 trickling out of her bones ; she turned white 
 and cold, and would have fallen had not 
 Marguerite taken her hand and helped her to a 
 seat on the bank.
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 203 
 
 Meanwhile the priests were proceeding 
 rapidly towards the ascent to the lime-walk, 
 when Jeannette, who wished to kiss her mother 
 and tell her she would not be long, cried out, 
 " Mother ! mother ! " 
 
 The sound of her daughter's voice restored 
 Madame Durand to sense, and, starting up with 
 a wild scream, she ran towards the group of 
 women who were following the priests. 
 
 " Misericorde !" she exclaimed. '' Oh, aid me 
 to recover my child ! " 
 
 '' Hush, Madame Durand!" said a wrinkled 
 old hag ; '' let the child be, can't you ? She 
 wishes to be baptized, and so she shall. I 
 advise you not to meddle with the clergy, on 
 your life ! " 
 
 But the agonized mother took no heed of such 
 utterances, tearing frantically through the throng 
 to reach her child. 
 
 " Ma pauvre enfant ! " she exclaimed, seizing 
 and covering with kisses the little wan hand 
 that was held towards her. 
 
 '* Ma mere," said the child, " do not weep ; 
 I am only going to visit the good Lady who lives 
 in yonder church. She will help poor father to 
 get work." 
 
 The mother turned from her child to the
 
 204 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 priests, who had now stopped. '' Oh, sirs, by the 
 love of God, I pray you take not my poor Httle 
 sick child ! Oh ! if you must rob me of my chil- 
 dren, take the elder one ; she is strong and can 
 bear it better. Do, sirs, for the love of God ! do ! 
 I will call her; she is very obedient, and will be 
 a good Catholic ; but as for this little one, see ! 
 she is weak and ill." 
 
 The Benedictine could not meet the gaze of 
 that distracted mother ; he turned and faced the 
 other women, and said, in a tone of apology — ^ 
 
 " I call you all to witness that this child of 
 her own consent accepted our call to quit her 
 unhappy home, where, she tells us, the name 
 of our Blessed Lady .is never spoken ; that 
 she, being of the legal age of seven years — 
 after which, as you know, the Holy Church is 
 authorized to receive converts into her bosom — 
 herself voluntarily expressed her own wish to 
 pray to the Blessed Virgin. If, then, in conse- 
 quence of the disturbance created by this 
 turbulent and factious woman, this poor child 
 shall change her mind, we shall pay no heed to 
 her, believing that it is better to secure her 
 favour with God than with man. And I call 
 upon you all to aid us in removing our convert 
 from the foul and pestilential atmosphere of
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 205 
 
 heresy into the sweet fold of the one true 
 Church." 
 
 This harangue was only just in time to turn 
 the tide, which was beginning to flow with 
 motherly instinct against the priests ; and Jean- 
 nette, feeling that she had grieved her kind 
 mother, had been sobbing and crying in the 
 serge folds of the Benedictine's frock. 
 
 The tall priest, too, said encouragingly, and 
 with an attempt at a smile — 
 
 '' Mother Durand, don't fash yourself about 
 the brat; she will be better cared for where she 
 is going. We shan't hurt her." 
 
 But Mother Durand was not to be won over 
 by honeyed words, and stuck so tightly to the 
 sleeve of the priest's soutane that he could not 
 advance without dragging her after him. Once 
 more the two priests stopped, and commanded 
 her to stand off and not impede them in the 
 discharge of their duty. 
 
 *' You may knock me down," she replied ; 
 " you may kill me if you will ; but I will never 
 let go till you give me back my child." 
 
 And the Benedictine looked as if he was 
 ready to take her at her word ; he raised his 
 disengaged arm as if to strike, when a clear 
 voice startled him, and made him look round.
 
 206 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 '' Fi done, monsieur ! for shame ! Hola, 
 Maintenon, a la garde ! " 
 
 A moment after the mastiff sprang through a 
 hedge which separated them from the slopes 
 of the lime-walk, and dashed full gallop into the 
 press, with head erect and nose in air, as if he 
 were divining by his sense of smell which was 
 to be his quarry. Immediately after appeared 
 the tall, lithe figure of a young girl, whose quick 
 breathing and flushed cheeks showed the effects 
 of her precipitate run down the steep incline. 
 
 " Madame," shouted the monk in fury, '' call 
 off your beast of a dog, or I will cut his 
 throat!" 
 
 Maintenon remembered his man. ** I think I 
 recollect this odour as belonging to a creature 
 I one day found hanging about my master's 
 study," perhaps he may have thought to him- 
 self; at any rate, he posted himself between 
 Ethel and the monk, so as to be of service in 
 any dental operations that might be called for. 
 A pat from Ethel modified his aggressive 
 attitude, and she then questioned the priests on 
 their conduct and purpose. After hearing their 
 account and the mother's, she tried to persuade 
 the priests to leave the girl with her mother 
 until the morrow. But entreaties were vain ;
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 207 
 
 the more she pleaded, the more they angrily 
 refused. 
 
 Madame Durand now threw herself at 
 Ethel's feet and implored her not to desert 
 her child. 
 
 '* Non, madame, I will not," said Ethel, 
 drawing herself up proudly and fronting the 
 priests ; " they shall give you back your child." 
 " By St. Anthony !" shouted the monk, *'if you 
 try to hinder us, we will have you arrested as a 
 dangerous heretic ! " 
 
 '' Moi ! je suis Anglaise ! " said Ethel, with a 
 defiant air. 
 
 *' La peste soit des Anglaises ! " muttered the 
 tall priest to himself. 
 
 " I care not if you be Cromwell himself and 
 all the kings of England in one!" cried the monk, 
 beside himself with rage. 
 
 " What warrant have you for what you do ? " 
 asked Ethel of the priests. 
 
 '* The seal of the king's minister for war, 
 madame — the great Louvois. Know ye not 
 that the king is about to stamp out this curse 
 from the country ? Beware, then, how you 
 break the French laws, or your English maiden- 
 hood may make acquaintance with a Norman 
 prison ! "
 
 208 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 " O dear lady," cried little Jeannette, " don't 
 let these priests carry me away from my mother. 
 I repent me of what I said in the cabbage- 
 garden. I did not know what I was doing. 
 They told me the Mother of Jesus Christ lived 
 up yonder, and she would help poor father. 
 Oh ! don't let them take me." 
 
 And the little sick child stretched out her 
 arms in so appealing a manner that Ethel felt 
 the blood coursing hotly in her cheeks with 
 mingled pity and indignation. She leaned 
 towards the child and took her hand. 
 
 The priests moved on. Jeannette had clasped 
 Ethel's fingers tightly between both her little 
 hands, so that she could not let go ; there was 
 a momentary struggle, in which the strain upon 
 the child's shoulder was so great that she gave 
 a little cry. 
 
 The mastiff, who had hitherto kept looking 
 first at Ethel, then at the priests, scanning 
 apparently their expressions and gestures, and 
 yet unable clearly to understand what was the 
 matter in dispute, no sooner perceived that 
 it was a tussle between monk and lady as to 
 who should possess Jeannette, than he took his 
 side with all the promptness and enthusiasm 
 of a young dog. Charging round to front
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 209 
 
 the Benedictine, he stood upright on his hind 
 legs and planted his forefeet on the monk's 
 breast, snarHng and showing his keen white 
 teeth ; but the monk was as brave as he was 
 cruel, and with his disengaged hand dealt 
 Maintenon a manly buffet on the ear. The 
 dog shook his head, and, making a little spring 
 forward, seized the left ear of the Benedictine 
 in his teeth, and shook it savagely once or 
 twice, nearly pulling the ear out of its socket. 
 The monk screamed in agony, and let Jeannette 
 slip down to the ground. Ethel called off the 
 mastiff, who left his hold unwillingly, and licked 
 the blood that clung about his lips with a savage 
 relish. 
 
 In the confusion which followed — women 
 rushing about in tears or offering handkerchiefs 
 to staunch the blood — the object of all this strife 
 was overlooked. But there was one in the 
 crowd who thought of her. Madame Durand 
 had snatched her up and run away with her 
 over the green fields and across the wooden 
 foot-bridge, and when the priests had re- 
 covered themselves enough to look for her, 
 they only saw a retreating figure in the 
 distance. 
 
 " You shall pay for this, mademoiselle ; you 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 2IO ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 shall come before the magistrate for this. This 
 is an illegal outrage ! " 
 
 Ethel stepped aside as the monk approached, 
 and addressing the women, who lingered about, 
 said — - 
 
 *' You all bear me witness that I did not urge 
 on the dog ; and you, sir monk, beware ! for if 
 you lay a finger on me, I will say ' Hola !' to yon 
 dog, and you will have that pretty face spoilt ! " 
 — with which withering sarcasm Ethel turned 
 away amongst the silent admiration of the 
 peasant-girls, who stood open-mouthed with 
 astonishment at the audacity of " la belle An- 
 glaise ! " 
 
 But the crisis over, Ethel began to feel very 
 uneasy as she swiftly retraced her steps to the 
 chateau, and could not help looking behind her, 
 now and then, with a sense of being pursued. 
 Besides, she feared that her interference might 
 bring some trouble to her friends at the 
 chateau, and after long consideration she made 
 up her mind that the whole truth must be 
 told to the sieur before there was any possi- 
 bility of its reaching his ears from any other 
 quarter. 
 
 Maintenon had no such troublous thoughts in 
 his head. He had dismissed the matter from
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 21 I 
 
 his mind with the last taste of the monk's ear, 
 and was once more the simple and light-hearted 
 " inspector of nuisances."
 
 212 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Madame de Cornelli's boudoir was constantly 
 growing more ecclesiastical, and constantly 
 throwing off the few remaining traces of secular 
 life. The gay sonnets lay crumpled in a dark 
 corner; the forgotten lute was almost reft of 
 the potency of sound by the cruel weight of 
 Thomas Aquinas, who sat doggedly on the 
 strings, in two huge volumes ; the riding-whip 
 and the hawking-glove had given place to the 
 rosary and a copy of the " Fleurs des Saints," 
 edged with ivory. 
 
 As for the lady herself, she never stirred out 
 but to drive to the cathedral, where she con- 
 fessed and prayed, and gave alms to the poor 
 and candles to the Virgin. And the old nurse 
 of the family would shake her head in Con- 
 stant's parlour, as she sipped the hot canary, 
 and say —
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 213 
 
 " Dites done ! Monsieur Constant, take my 
 word for it, as sure as I am a live woman, it 
 will be a boy, a young cardinal ! After all this 
 kneeling and crying and taking on, it will be 
 a little blear-eyed thing not fit to hold a lance 
 or charge a musket. Aye ! they may make a 
 scholar of him, like enough, for they say his 
 father has a marvellous good head for your 
 Latins." 
 
 And Constant would humour the old lady 
 with a patronising nod and a second instalment 
 of canary, and would give her a whiff or two of 
 tobacco to keep off the asthma. 
 
 Whilst Ethel was encountering the monk and 
 the priest, Madame de Cornelli was encounter- 
 ing two devils on h^v prie-Dzeu in the boudoir. 
 These gentlemen were not visible to the naked 
 eye, but they were none the less real in their 
 attack upon the gentle dame, who knelt weep- 
 ing, weeping, sobbing and again sobbing, with 
 her pale face buried in her uplifted hands, and 
 her long hair falling loosely down her back. 
 The first devil would cross her vision, as she 
 knelt in prayer, clad in the garb of a young 
 nobleman. The long feather that drooped from 
 his hat scarcely concealed the features of one 
 with whose destiny she felt herself irrevocably
 
 214 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 linked. The black ribbon of the Order of St. 
 Michael, the suit of embroidered taffeta flutter- 
 ing with knots of many-coloured ribbons, the 
 shoulder-belt, the long rapier, all reminded her 
 of one for whom her heart had first known the 
 quick pulsation of love. He was, or seemed to 
 be, dragging her anew to the altar through 
 a crowd of hooded nuns, who gazed upon her 
 with a look of ineffable disdain. She struggled, 
 but the devil's grip was too strong for her, 
 and then there swam before her eyes a multi- 
 tude of demons who taunted her with the name 
 of "mother" — her, who might have been the 
 spouse of Christ, unsullied by earthly love ! 
 The vision of her husband's love swept aside, 
 she would fall into a holy trance, and angels 
 seemed to float over her, bearing scrolls of 
 pardon in their hands. She would look up and 
 smile, and reach out her white arms to take the 
 scroll, but the angel would seem to draw back 
 and whisper, " 'Tis for those who will forsake 
 all and follow us." And then the second devil 
 would rise before her, blotting out the figure of 
 the angel which had floated in the motes of the 
 afternoon sun, and he would hide his face with 
 his hands and burst Into an exceeding bitter 
 cry, as one who mourned his mother. And
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 21 5 
 
 then she would recognize the voice. '''Tis 
 PhiHppe's voice," she would say to herself in a 
 hushed tone of awe ; and all her holy thoughts 
 of surrender would be carried away in a tempest 
 of maternal tears. Again and again these 
 visions would recur, as, out-wearied and for- 
 spent with prayer, she knelt in the privacy of 
 her room. 
 
 It was some such agony of soul as this which 
 was racking her when the door of her chamber 
 was quietly opened and the Sieur de Cornelli 
 stole in unobserved. His countenance was 
 clouded with a shade of minted doubt and 
 sorrow, as he noticed the signs of spiritual 
 struggle, the heaving bosom, the sob that would 
 not be restrained. For a moment he stood 
 irresolute ; then, stepping softly to her side, he 
 knelt and kissed her head, and placed his left 
 arm about her, and shading his eyes with his 
 right hand, uttered these words in a broken 
 voice — 
 
 '' O Father of Infinite Love, we come before 
 Thee, kneeling side by side, as once we knelt 
 before Thy altar, that Thou mightest bless 
 our young loves and make us one. O loving 
 Father, Thou didst bless our union in the olden 
 time ; happy years have been ours — yea, Thou
 
 2l6 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 hast given us the sweetest pledges to keep for 
 Thee — the innocent babe, the priceless gem of 
 childhood, the enthusiasm of renewed youth. 
 Have we valued these Thy gifts as we ought ? 
 - — have we watched over them to keep them 
 pure and spotless ? Lord, Thou knowest ! 
 
 " Once more we kneel before Thee — we. Thy 
 ungrateful children — asking Thee to bless us yet 
 ao^ain ! Our hearts that once were one, are 
 sundered — sundered, good Lord, in Thy own 
 service, in our zeal for what we hold truth. 
 Make us one, O Lord, in Thee — one in heart 
 and soul, and mind and affection. And if I, 
 in my blind groping after the true Christ, 
 have stumbled and fallen — if I am dulling the 
 brighter mirror of her soul by the breath of my 
 opinions — O pardon my poor unconscious errors, 
 and grant me the help of Thy Spirit to guard me 
 in the future, and make my soul one with her 
 soul ! And if she, O Lord, though serving 
 Thee with much self-denial in the ministry to 
 Thy poor, and in the strict observance of religion, 
 shall have been led by any one to mistake her 
 duties, and to quit the post in which Thou hast 
 placed her for one she fancies will bring her 
 nearer Thee, then turn her heart, O Father of 
 Infinite Mercies-— turn her heart once more to
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 21 7 
 
 her husband and her children, and knit us to- 
 gether a holy family in Thee, that loving Thee 
 we may love one another also ! " 
 
 The head of the wife had fallen on the breast 
 of the husband, and before the prayer was 
 ended it had been heard ; two sundered hearts 
 had been re-knit, two human souls that were 
 drifting apart for want of sympathy had ex- 
 plained themselves in the presence of the 
 Searcher of all hearts. 
 
 It was some time before either spoke. The 
 wife's heart had found a relief in tears ; there, 
 with her weary head on the bosom of him for 
 whom she had once given up a life of courtly 
 ease and luxury, she seemed to be whispering 
 once more the vows she had pledged so long 
 ago, and but now resolved to break. And it 
 was so sweet to feel that the old love was still 
 there, still alive and burning like a fire ; so 
 sweet to feel the old touch of the once familiar 
 arm circling about her — that she gave herself up 
 to the charm of the moment, like a girl that 
 surrenders herself to some forbidden pleasure 
 with a smile of desperate abandon. At length 
 the sieur broke the long silence — 
 
 " We are very happy now, dearest, but it will 
 not be for long. They will come and rear a
 
 2l8 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 barrier between us, those uncompromising 
 Jesuits ; they care not whose hearts be broken, 
 so long as the Church is kept uppermost. The 
 king has given himself up to his new mistress, 
 and she, they say, has bargained with the 
 Jesuits ; she is to convert the old dotard to a 
 policy of persecution, they are to consent to her 
 marriage ! Bah ! I am sick of it all ! Come, 
 dearest, come away with me to a land where 
 we can love one another without priestly inter- 
 ference, where your faith and mine are alike 
 permitted. Let us flee to England, where King 
 James will welcome you for a Catholic and 
 his people will receive me for a Protestant. 
 What say you, sweet ? Shall I sell the chateau 
 and the demesne and take you hence ? " 
 
 Madame de Cornelli looked up into the face 
 of her husband — ■" Mon cher, you forget, I can- 
 not travel so far ; yet, if all were well, I would 
 even pluck up heart to carry my babe into 
 a land of peace and safety. You tell me the 
 English are a quiet people ? "• 
 
 '' Quiet as sheep, ma chere ! They are a 
 nation endued with common sense, on which 
 they pride themselves somewhat ; further, they 
 have no ideas, no grand conceptions, for which 
 they are willing to rush to arms. They are cool
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 219 
 
 calculators ; they solve the problems of exist- 
 ence by the rule of three, and can drink strong 
 ale without getting intoxicated. They value 
 religion, too, after a fashion : their poet turns 
 the Bible into blank verse, and gets rewarded 
 by a post under government — but that was in 
 Cromwell's time." 
 
 Madame de Cornelli had not listened much 
 to the last sentences. She was engaged in a 
 vision of Merrie England, where she saw her- 
 self surrounded by her family, the youngest 
 lying asleep in a pretty little crib adorned with 
 English ribbons. But the thought of her babe 
 suggested another idea — the mother praying 
 beside the cot ; and the thought of prayer 
 called up again the thought of the Holy 
 Church, whose interests she had been tempted 
 to postpone to her own domestic happiness. 
 
 " You sigh, ma chere," said the sieur, stroking 
 a long yellow curl that had strayed away from 
 its fellows. 
 
 '* Ah ! if only I knew which was my duty ! 
 God knows ! I pray hourly for wisdom from 
 above to guide my heart aright, but the path 
 is beset with difficulties. Nature says, ' Follow 
 thy husband ! ' — but what if that same Nature 
 is a villanous fellow ? Again, my confessor says,
 
 2 20 • ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 ' Save thy soul and obey the Holy Church ! ' — 
 but what if those same confessors are misled 
 by the spirit of party ? Alas ! what can a poor 
 weak woman do ? Yet this proposal — yes, it 
 seems to solve the problem ; quit home and 
 land and live abroad — but, mon cher, what will 
 my English confessor say to me ? " 
 
 '' Leave that puzzle to the day and the evil 
 thereof. And now hear what I propose : I 
 intend to despatch a courier to our good friend 
 La Bruyere, whose judgment in such matters 
 I count worth not a little ; and 'if I can prevail 
 on him to pay us a visit, we can settle the 
 details of these transactions speedily. We 
 must make up our minds to sacrifice a portion 
 of our income, I fear ; for, by all reports, the 
 great number of landed proprietors who have 
 sold all and emigrated has brought down the 
 price of land terribly. But half a loaf is better 
 than no mouth to put it in ! " 
 
 With which ironical remark the sieur was 
 preparing to leave the chamber, when the sound 
 of footsteps outside arrested him. A hurried 
 tap at the door of the boudoir, and a hot face 
 thrust in, panting, startled, impatient to speak, 
 called forth a simultaneous cry from the sieur 
 and his lady.
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 221 
 
 **Mon DIeu! qu'est-ce qu'il y a, Mademoiselle 
 Ethel ? " 
 
 The English girl, having entered and closed 
 the door after her, approached her patrons 
 and attempted to explain to them the cause of 
 her perturbation ; but the speed with which she 
 had come up the hill, added to the agitation 
 consequent on the scene she had just witnessed, 
 caused her a momentary falntness, and she 
 would have slipped to the ground had not the 
 sleur stepped forward and supported her with 
 his arm. 
 
 Madame rose hastily, and, opening an antlqne 
 lacquered chest which stood In a corner of the 
 room, poured out a cordial In a phial and held 
 it to Ethel's lips. In a few moments she had 
 recovered herself, and, seated on a fauteuil, 
 which madame Insisted she should occupy, was 
 narrating the events of the afternoon. 
 
 When she commenced speaking her listeners 
 were agitated with surprise and fear, not know- 
 ing what evil tidings the young girl was about 
 to produce to their own detriment. But when 
 the story developed itself apparently into the 
 troubles of a poor laundress, the look of care 
 had given place to an expression of com- 
 passionate sympathy which said, as plainly as
 
 22 2 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 words could have uttered it, " Oh ! it is 
 nothing, after all. You have frightened us so, 
 that it is quite charming to find it touches 
 somebody else — quite charming to pity our poor 
 neighbour ! " • 
 
 Such is human nature, even in the most 
 unselfish. But again, as the incidents of the 
 struggle with the clergy broke in, the sad 
 contented look passed away on madame's face 
 into firmly pressed lips and a colourless cheek, 
 while the sieur rose to his feet and paced the 
 apartment with quick, uneasy strides. 
 
 Ethel had told the story with great circum- 
 stance, dwelling largely on the poignant grief of 
 the mother and the distress of the little sick 
 child on finding that she was being duped, and 
 she concluded with an indignant remonstrance 
 against a system of conversion which proceeded 
 by treachery and violence. So far she had 
 proceeded without reflecting in whose presence 
 she was speaking ; but when she concluded, and 
 dropping her eyes saw Madame de Cornelli 
 weeping and sobbing, she ejaculated — 
 
 '' Madame, I crave your pardon. I spoke 
 lightly. I have wounded you. I would not for 
 worlds have spoken thus, believe me ! " 
 
 *' Non, mademoiselle ; you have spoken the
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 2 23 
 
 truth, I doubt not, and the truth does wound 
 sometimes. But think not, ma chere, that I 
 grieve on my own account ! Non ! I weep for 
 the poor stonemason and his wife, and I weep, 
 too, for my holy reHgion. Monsieur, we must 
 aid these Durands ! " 
 
 *' Spoken Hke a brave woman ! " said the 
 sieur, kissing his wife on the forehead. 
 
 " Monsieur I'Eveque will be for us, surely!" 
 cried Ethel. 
 
 " Ah non, ma chere ! " answered madame ; 
 ** times are changed with monseigneur since Le 
 Pelletier has succeeded to power. I know rfot 
 how it is, but he always has seemed to shun me 
 since his reverence le Pere Beretti appeared on 
 the scene." 
 
 " Yes," broke in the sieur ; ^' the good bishop 
 has been muzzled by the Jesuit, and, indeed, 
 had not the Archbishop of Rouen spoken up 
 for him, the king would have found him less 
 comfortable quarters." 
 
 The conversation continued until the great 
 bell rang for supper, when all took their places 
 at the table. The rumour of Ethel's adventure 
 had penetrated into the servants'-hall ; one of 
 the pages, in his impudent frolic, made believe 
 his ear was bitten, as Maintenon paced with a
 
 2 24 ASYLUM CHRISTL 
 
 dignified step into the hall. All gazed wonder- 
 ingly on the fair face that had dared to confront 
 a monk and a priest ; Ethel felt that their eyes 
 were upon her, and her ears grew hot. Marie 
 alone knew nothing of what had happened, and 
 in a low voice was rallying her companion on 
 her silence during supper, when the sieur said 
 somewhat sternly to her — 
 
 " Marie, hold your tongue ! Thou wert ever 
 wont to babble overmuch in public. Knowest 
 thou not a woman should be seen and not 
 heard?" 
 
 Old Constant, who stood by with a flagon of 
 muscadine, unconsciously nodded his head in 
 approval of this sentiment. 
 
 The pages and Father Beauvais never 
 uttered a word all supper-time. Marie looked 
 at Philippe for an explanation of the general 
 dismay, but his shrug of the shoulders only 
 added to the mystery. Just before they rose 
 from the table Constant approached his master 
 and whispered in his ear ; he received a 
 whispered order and retired. 
 
 At the foot of the great staircase Ethel was 
 about to leave in company with Marie, when 
 the sieur touched her on the shoulder and 
 beckoned her to follow him into his study.
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 22 5 
 
 There she found madame already seated with 
 two little girls standing before her ; in the back- 
 ground stood a man in a blouse, and a poor 
 woman whom she at once recognized as 
 Madame Durand. They were all weeping as 
 the sieur entered, who closed and bolted the 
 door, then placed seats for Ethel and the 
 mason's wife, and called upon the master-mason 
 to say shortly what was ailing. 
 
 The gaunt, underfed ouvrier, thus appealed 
 to, wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his blouse, 
 and, bowing to Madame de Cornelli wit|j a 
 graceful sweep of the hand, such as comes 
 natural to only a Frenchman, said — 
 
 " Monseigneur is doubtless aware of all that 
 happened when the little one there — little 
 Jeannette — was taken from her home. Well ! 
 I will not repeat the story. Helas ! the fright 
 of the last few hours has robbed me of my 
 memory ; where was I, wife ? " 
 
 Madame Durand eagerly took up the parable 
 and said, "Ah, le pauvre homme ! he is- almost 
 beside himself! He bien ! permit me, mon- 
 seigneur, to address myself — c'est 9a ! I carried 
 off la petite la-bas — 'Jeannette,' by your lady- 
 ship's leave — into our little cottage and locked 
 the door; presently up came Marguerite, 
 
 VOL. I. * Q
 
 2 26 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 running, and saying how as all the neighbours 
 had gone with the priests into Coutances. I 
 unbarred the door and let her in. Then I got 
 the large chest set up against the door as a 
 barricade, and I up with the shutters and sat 
 down to cry " 
 
 ''Nay, mother; you prayed to 'Our Father 
 who art in heaven,' " broke in Jeannette, who 
 had been carefully following the recital of events. 
 
 Madame de Cornelli smiled, and kissed the 
 child on the forehead. 
 
 " Allons done ! well, perhaps I prayed a bit 
 edgeways, in between the crying and the look- 
 ing to the babes ; but it's little poor folk can 
 think of to say to the Almighty when there's 
 such heavy thoughts knocking at the door of 
 the mind, and belike I was no better than a 
 poor Papist, muttering the Lord's Prayer over 
 and over again — " 
 
 " Nay, mammy," urged the irrepressible lover 
 of facts ; " don't I mind your praying that 
 father might come home safe, and didn't our 
 Father, I mean the great ' Our Father who art 
 in heaven,' send him to us ? " 
 
 "II est vrai !" replied the woman solemnly; 
 " il est vrai ! " 
 
 " Ah, mon Dieu ! " broke in the stonemason,
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 227 
 
 with a heartrending cadence and lowered 
 head; ''quel spectacle! No sooner had I 
 cried, ' It is I, open !' than the bolts were with- 
 drawn and I saw my little girls sobbing and 
 hanging on to the skirts of their mother's 
 petticoat. But it was no time for embracing. 
 ' Quick ! ' I cried ; ' put on your cloaks, our lives 
 are in danger ! They pursue'd me with yell and 
 blow through the town, shouting out that we 
 were an accursed family, and they would fire 
 our kennel over our heads. ' " 
 
 '' Qui, madame," interrupted the mason's 
 wife, " it was so indeed ; and le pauvre homme ! 
 he was bleeding and out of breath as he spoke. 
 I just wiped his face and got my little ones 
 ready, put our few denier s together in a scrip, 
 and away we started, like so many hunted 
 rabbits." 
 
 As the several portions of this narrative were 
 being pieced in by the members of the Durand 
 family, Madame de Cornelli was growing more 
 and more sympathetic. Little Jeannette, who 
 was leaning against her chair, was at last fain to 
 look up in childish surprise, when from stroking 
 the little head madame suddenly passed to 
 pulling the child to her bosom and covering her 
 with kisses.
 
 2 28 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 The effect upon the sieur was different. As 
 the story was concluded he stood erect, his eyes 
 fixed into space, his Hps compressed. You 
 might have taken him for a statue ; but the 
 curving nostrils and heaving breast told of a 
 living passion, controlled but not tamed. And 
 if you had gazed into those eyes you would 
 have met — not the vacant, far-off look of the 
 student, but the flashing indignant glance of 
 one who resolves to strike the blow his con- 
 science imperiously demands. 
 
 There was a silence of some minutes, broken 
 at length by the mason saying, " And so we 
 turned our steps here, not knowing where we 
 could better go for succour than to the wise 
 and kind lord of the Chateau de I'Esprit." 
 
 *' Oui, madame," chimed in the childish voice 
 of Jeannette ; " I said the great lady would 
 protect me, though she is a Papist, because she 
 is good to the poor, and — and you know the 
 great Lady up yonder in the cathedral, don't 
 you?" 
 
 '' Who, my child ? What lady mean you ? " 
 '' The Lady they told me about — the good 
 Mother of our Lord." 
 
 Madame de Cornelli laughed and cried by 
 turns. " She is but half a Huguenot, mon- 
 sieur ! " she cried to the sieur.
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 229 
 
 *' So much the better, ma chere ; our sym- 
 pathies are united." 
 
 Then the conversation turned on the various 
 plans of escape or concealment which offered 
 themselves. After several had been discussed, 
 Durand suddenly cried out — • 
 
 " I think I know of something that may help 
 us, if monseigneur will permit me to follow him 
 to the white tower which my grandfather built 
 for one of monseigneur's ancestors." 
 
 '' The white tower ! " exclaimed the sieur. 
 " That is no longer fit for men's habitation ; its 
 rooms are lumbered up with fire-wood, and 
 the bats and owls have made their homes 
 therein." 
 
 ''It is well ! " rejoined the mason ; " but if 
 monseigneur would conduct me thither, I could 
 tell him more anon." 
 
 Accordingly De Cornelli rang a hand-bell, 
 which was answered by one of the pages, who 
 was commanded to bid Constant wait with the 
 keys of the chateau. " You, madame, wait 
 our return, with this poor woman and her 
 children, and bid the attendants serve her with 
 a repast." 
 
 So saying, the sieur led the way to the great 
 staircase, where Constant was already awaiting
 
 230 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 his approach with two hands laden with old 
 and rusty keys, which he was jangling discon- 
 solately, and all the more so because in his 
 room had been gathered all the gossips of 
 the servants' quarters to discuss, mystify, and 
 exaggerate the details of news which had fil- 
 tered into the chateau through the mouths of 
 such dignitaries as the barber and apothecary, 
 whose custom it was to call at the chateau three 
 or four times in the week. To be called away, 
 therefore, at such an inauspicious time, when 
 a flagon of good cider had only just been 
 broached, was enough to cloud the brow of one 
 less sensual than the maitre (T hotel. But his 
 bow was none the less reverential as his master 
 approached, though in raising his head he took 
 occasion to glance sharply at the figure in the 
 blouse and wooden sabots, as much as to say, 
 '' Par la mort, non, le diable ! " And when 
 Durand paused on the first step of the well- 
 polished staircase and seemed to consider 
 whether it would not be better to remove his 
 sabots, old Constant murmured " C'est juste ! " 
 and nodded to him to take off the obnoxious 
 articles. 
 
 On reaching the second floor they passed 
 alone a corridor which communicated with the 
 
 o
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 23 1 
 
 sleeping chambers of the women servants, 
 through which latter they had to pass before 
 reaching a heavily barred oak door, which had 
 evidently not been opened for some time, for 
 the spiders had spun their net-work of chains 
 about and across it. Here Constant took out 
 a large iron key, and turning it with difficulty, 
 let the sieur and the mason through into a 
 circular stone chamber, which was in fact a 
 staircase in the said white tower. 
 
 " Remain here, Constant, and give me the 
 keys," said the sieur. 
 
 The mature d' hotel handed over a small bunch 
 of keys, and signed to Durand to replace his 
 sabots. 
 
 The noisy clack of the sabots as they passed 
 up the staircase died away on the wondering 
 ears of the good Constant. '' He, mon petit 
 Dieu ! there is a frolic toward now ! Yes ; they 
 have stopped at the top flooring but one — the 
 old sieur's tool-house and workshop. Ha! I 
 have lost the sounds ! " 
 
 But the sieur and Durand were discussing 
 the propriety of making Constant privy to their 
 secret. The result was that the old serviteur 
 was invited to join them, for it was clearly 
 imprudent to leave him conscious of a mystery
 
 232 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 which his curiosity might prompt him to unravel 
 of his own account ; neither had his master any 
 reason to doubt his fideHty. 
 
 When, then, Constant entered the chamber, 
 which, as he had rightly guessed, the two others 
 were examining, he found Durand standing on 
 the iron dogs which lay embedded in the cold 
 hearth-stone, his head some way up the wide 
 chimney, and a sepulchral voice saying, " I 
 think I've found it." 
 
 ''It is a secret-door he is looking for, which 
 is to lead us to a chamber where he and his 
 family may rest secure a while." 
 
 " Oui, oui, monseigneur," replied the old 
 servant, stooping to catch a glimpse of the 
 mason's upper regions. 
 
 " I never knew of it. Constant, till he told 
 me this evening. Have you ever heard of it 
 in my father's time ? " 
 
 " Mais non ! to be sure your honoured father 
 was much up here with his hand-saws and axes, 
 but as no one ever saw much result of his noble 
 labours, it was reported that the poor gentleman 
 was a little wrong in his wits, begging your 
 pardon ; but if he came here to have private 
 interviews with secret guests, of course that 
 explains the old gentleman's oddities. Many a
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 233 
 
 time have I swept a day's shavings Into my 
 pocket." 
 
 " Strange ! " said the sleur, tapping with his 
 knuckles the panels of the wall. 
 
 Almost at the same moment Durand reap- 
 peared, somewhat glorified with a halo of 
 mortar about his head. 
 
 " I have found the entrance, an Iron shutter 
 about four feet above this stone, which Is 
 fastened down with screws. With a driver I 
 can lay it open In six minutes." 
 
 It was agreed that Constant should fetch the 
 required tools, and at the same time sumrfion 
 Pierre and Philippe, that If any extra assistance 
 was required they might lend It. 
 
 There was a staircase leading to the base 
 of the tower, from which In former times an 
 exit had been made by a small postern ; but 
 this door had long been disused, and secured 
 from the inside by two heavy beams being 
 nailed across It. The room on the ground 
 floor had been made a deposit for fire-wood 
 and old casks, and to re-open the communica- 
 tion, It was necessary first to make a passage 
 through the logs and butts, and then to knock 
 off the planks of fir which barred the door. 
 
 When Constant returned with his two allies
 
 2 34 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 this work was promptly put before them, while 
 Durand and the sieur remained above to pene- 
 trate the mysteries of the secret chamber. By 
 means of a short ladder it was easy to gain a 
 firm footing on a level with the iron shutter 
 which closed the passage ; but when the screws 
 were withdrawn it required almost more than 
 one man's strength to hold it up. A torch had 
 been procured, and Durand, forcing his body 
 through the half-open aperture, uttered a cry of 
 surprise and drew back. 
 
 " Ma foi ! what is it ? " said the sieur sharply. 
 
 Durand whispered, " There is some one 
 there ! " 
 
 '' Nonsense, the place has no other entrance 
 but this." 
 
 " Oui, vraiment ! there is a little window at 
 the further end, half covered with ivy, and by 
 it sits a lady ! " 
 
 The chimney in which the sieur was groping 
 was dark. Durand's words made his flesh 
 creep; yet he cried again, " Nonsense ! " but this 
 time in a hushed tone, as if he spoke against 
 his will. 
 
 Durand held up the shutter and the sieur 
 peered into the chanber. 
 
 Yes ; there sat a lady, leaning forward on
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 235 
 
 a little table ! The sieur gathered up courage 
 to cry, " Hein ! Madame ! " An owl looked out 
 of the ivy and blinked his eyes, but the lady 
 said never a word.
 
 236 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The jpresence of the mysterious lady in the 
 secret chamber of the white tower so terrified 
 the mason that neither taunts nor entreaties 
 could induce him to make an entrance. Even 
 the sieur himself, with all his erudition and 
 sagacity, was not proof against a feeling of awe, 
 as he thought to himself that the chamber 
 might well be tenanted by right of prescrip- 
 tion by some such devil as mocked Martin 
 Luther, or another such spirit as tempted Saint 
 Anthony. 
 
 It was agreed that 'twere better to call up the 
 others, as it was well known that old Pierre had 
 encountered more than one hobgoblin triumph- 
 antly — according to his own showing. Durand 
 therefore descended to the basement and told 
 the marvellous story, and in a few seconds 
 Philippe was standing by his fathers side,
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 237 
 
 panting with the exertion of his run upstairs, his 
 hungry eyes wide open and sparkHng with boy- 
 ish glee as he dimbed to peer into the strange 
 chamber. But he came down the ladder with 
 a pale face, and said no word to Pierre, who 
 asked him had he seen aught; only he motioned 
 to him to put foot to the rounds of the ladder. 
 
 " I had a dream last night. Methought an 
 archangel or two stood by my truckle-bed and 
 said, ' Pierre, fear not ! go on in the strength of 
 the Word, and the Scarlet Woman shall not 
 prevail ! ' Yes, my masters ; by the help of the 
 Word will we do great things." 
 
 So saying Pierre ascended the ladder, carry- 
 ing in his left hand an open Bible, as a talis- 
 man against the machinations of the foul fiend. 
 Durand forced the iron shutter half open, and the 
 coachman thrust his head and shoulders into the 
 gloomy room. Those below could faintly catch 
 the sound of his voice, as he plied the unknown 
 intruder with texts from all the minor prophets, 
 interlarding his remarks with a few objurgatory 
 epithets collected from the history of Jezebel. 
 But at last he returned, shaking his head, and 
 vowing it was no every-day fiend that could 
 resist such spiriting. 
 
 " Go in thyself, Pierre, and take her by the
 
 238 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 throat," said the sieur, with a sly smile at his 
 son, for he began to doubt the far-famed 
 courage of Jehu. "Go in, and put the fiend 
 to shame ! " 
 
 " Nay, my master, that would be to tempt 
 God and put in jeopardy the Christian's armour; 
 the breast-plate of election and the sword of 
 personal godliness may not be lightly exposed 
 to trial." Then, a gleam of common-sense shoot- 
 ing, as it so often did, across the old Calvinist's 
 weather-stained features, he added, " Let us put 
 the dog at her; I'll warrant him to test her 
 whereabouts ! " 
 
 The proposal was received with general 
 applause, the very idea of a dog being sufficient 
 to break the spell that was tightening their 
 chests, and quickening their foolish pulses, and 
 robbing their muscles of power and their nerves 
 of directing energy. " Aye, aye, the dog ! then 
 we shall know all about her ! " 
 
 " Mon pere," said Philippe, as they stood 
 awaiting the arrival of Maintenon, *'you have 
 often told me not to fear the presence of evil 
 spirits, but what think you now ? " 
 
 "Wait a little and see the end. I have my 
 suspicions as to the nature of this strange 
 phantom-trove, which, if not flesh and blood,
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 239 
 
 will at least prove to be bone, methlnks ; but 
 here they come with the dog." 
 
 Maintenon stepped into the room with just 
 the subdued swagger of a town physician when 
 he is ushered into a consulting-room full of 
 rural practitioners. It was somewhat trouble- 
 some to get him up the steps to see his patient, 
 and he made pretence of biting the friendly 
 hand which pushed him from behind ; but when 
 he was shown the narrow slit through which it 
 was expected he would make his entrance, the 
 spirit of adventure stirred his canine blood, and 
 he leaped into the haunted room with tail erect 
 and nose in air. 
 
 ''He doesn't see her, le coquin!" cried 
 Constant. 
 
 " Peste ! " said the mason ; '' then it is a 
 fiend ! " 
 
 But suddenly the dog, who had been vaguely 
 casting about, caught sight of the figure and 
 gave a low growl, stopped, barked, advanced 
 growling within two feet of the dress, stopped 
 growling and sniffed the air, then came back 
 with his tail down to the iron shutter, half 
 growling, half whining, but always facing the 
 figure of the woman. 
 
 In a moment the sieur had jumped down
 
 240 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 into the room, patted the dog, and walked up 
 to the front of the seeming fiend. Constant 
 was uttering his credo; Pierre held his Bible 
 towards his master; the mason was holding 
 back Philippe, who wished to share his father's 
 danger. In a few minutes the sieur came 
 back. 
 
 '' The mystery is solved ; it is as I thought ! " 
 
 " Oh ! tell me, papa ; what is it ? " cried 
 Philippe. 
 
 " A skeleton of a woman ! been there fifty 
 years, I should say." 
 
 By this time the others had so far recovered 
 their nerve as to jump down into the room, and 
 all were busy prowling round the skeleton with 
 exclamations of surprise ; but Maintenon alone 
 kept his tail down in the presence of Death, and 
 refused to stir. 
 
 Tenderly they lifted her up, this phantom of 
 the buried past, and bore her with care to an 
 upper chamber in the tower until a grave could 
 be prepared for her and the" dirge should be 
 chanted over her remains; but with all the 
 gentle handling enjoined by the sieur, it could 
 not be helped if fragments of the decayed robes 
 fell like gossamer to the ground. 
 
 While the '' haunted chamber," as it was now
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 24! 
 
 called, was being prepared for the reception of 
 the Durand family, the sieur had rejoined his 
 wife, called her to her boudoir, and told her 
 the strange incident which had just befallen. 
 There was no clue to the mystery, no tradition 
 in the family that threw light on the discovery 
 of this unburied skeleton, and upon Madame de 
 Cornelli the event bore with no little weight of 
 apprehension, steeped as she was to the lips in 
 the spirit of the times, which heard a goblin 
 in the creaking of every door, and saw a 
 mysterious messenger from heaven or hell in 
 every mote that danced before the eyes of the 
 dyspeptic. But De CornelH himself had in 
 great measure emancipated himself from the 
 thrall of such superstitions, having studied early 
 and late amongst such authors as Des Cartes, 
 Malebranche, Torricelli, Huygens, and the 
 English philosopher, Bacon. Yet the most 
 sceptical of your scientific men will feel uneasy 
 at the discovery of a skeleton in his house, and 
 that, too, not smuggled away in the proverbial 
 cupboard, but resting fleshless elbows on a table 
 in one of his private apartments ! 
 
 However, the necessity for action in respect 
 to the family of the master-mason left him 
 no time to puzzle out the explanation of this 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 untoward circumstance, and when, shortly, 
 Constant appeared at the door announcing that 
 all was ready, he jumped up from his seat, 
 where he had been musing, and, dashing his 
 hand across his eyes, gave orders for the house- 
 hold to be summoned in the entrance hall so 
 soon as Pierre should bring round the covered 
 wagon, as he had been before instructed to do. 
 This done, he himself saw to the preparation of 
 the little girls, as for a long journey, providing 
 packets of cheese and fruit and apples, and 
 clothing them with warm cloaks. 
 
 There was the usual bustle in the hall when 
 the covered wagon drew up at the stone steps 
 as there was at the departure of the high 
 nobility. The pages ranged themselves on 
 either side of the door, the footmen hurried 
 to and fro with lanthorns and wrappers, and 
 the femmes-de-chambre peeped out coyly from 
 behind the stone pillars. Nor was there less 
 curiosity to see the little peasant girls whom 
 their master delighted to honour, the heroes of 
 the hour, the victims of priestly tyranny. And 
 many a bon voyage was whispered them as 
 they pattered across the floor in their little 
 wooden sabots. 
 
 ''Reserve your horses up the hills, Pierre; 'tis
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 243 
 
 a long way from here to the village of Gran- 
 ville," said the sieur, in a voice loud enough to 
 be heard by his servants. 
 
 "Trust Pierre to take care of his own cattle!" 
 
 "Adieu ! " And the lights flashed and the 
 wheels grated on the gravel, and the great door 
 was closed with a bang, and the little hunted 
 children with their parents were off — whither ? 
 
 At a corner of the drive, not many paces 
 from the chateau, Philippe was awaiting the 
 chariot. Down stumbled the master-mason, 
 sardonically smiling ; from her comfortable 
 corner stole forth the mason's wife, bewildered 
 but submissive, and the little ones rubbed their 
 eyes saying, " Are we there so soon ? " But 
 Philippe hushed them all to silence, and led 
 them swiftly through the old postern in the 
 white tower, up the steps and to the foot of the 
 ladder which rested on a hearth-stone and 
 seemed to lead to the stars. Here a little 
 coaxing was needed to fortify them to the 
 ascent; but when they saw the red coals glowing 
 in the brazier, and the curtained beds prepared 
 for them in the haunted room, they were 
 content, and the iron shutter was closed upon 
 the concealed Huguenots. 
 
 As for Pierre, he lashed his leaders fiercely
 
 244 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 through the drive, and then, by a by-road, drove 
 quietly home, and incontinently stabled his 
 wondering horses ! 
 
 The lights were twinkling in the upper 
 windows of the chateau, though it was long after 
 the time when its inmates were usually snug in 
 bed ; for many words and much shrugging of 
 knowing shoulders had followed the departure 
 of the fugitives. The sky was overcast with 
 thick clouds, and from over the sea came every 
 now and then a flash of lurid light which lit up 
 terrace and grey battlement and rustling beech 
 with a momentary splendour. Under one of 
 the great trees, which threw its black arms 
 across the drive, stood two figures contemplating 
 the upper portion of the white tower ; they spoke 
 in a low tone, and seemed to be listening for the 
 sound of approaching steps. 
 
 '' Mais, mon pere," said the shorter of the 
 two, '' will it not be possible for the Papists to 
 discover them by the light which will issue from 
 the window ? " 
 
 '' Not at all," answered the sieur. *' Durand 
 has lights in his chamber even now, and yet we 
 get no ray from yonder tower. I took care to 
 examine into that before I left the chamber, and 
 I found that the aperture which serves for
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 245 
 
 window is built somewhat like a funnel, curving 
 so that from within you cannot see what passes 
 outside, and from without you cannot mark the 
 light which burns in the chamber. And the 
 boughs of yonder beech, together with the ivy 
 which climbs about the wall, effectually screen 
 the place from observation — -but hark 1 " 
 
 As he spoke, the tramp of feet was heard in 
 the distance, and the yelping of Pierre's poodle 
 at the entrance gates, and the lowing of some 
 cattle that had been disturbed in their first 
 sleep, betokened an intrusion. 
 
 " Ah ! they come ! " whispered the boy 
 fiercely, and grasped his stout ash-stick tightly. 
 But his father seized him by the arm and 
 hurried him by a side-door into the servants' 
 quarters. 
 
 They passed quickly to the room where 
 Constant was wont to receive his company, and 
 where they found him now mopping his fore- 
 head with a dirty dish-cloth, while a page was 
 reading by the light of an oil lamp in a soiled 
 volume of Rabelais. 
 
 The entrance of the sieur was so noiseless 
 that neither the inaitre-d' hotel nor the page 
 noticed it, and the dark, handsome features of 
 the latter were breaking out into a private grin
 
 246 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 of secret amusement, when the sleur clapped 
 him sharply on the shoulder. '' Allons done ! 
 they are coming ! " 
 
 The boy dropped the book on the lamp in 
 his alarm ; the lamp went out, and the group 
 were left in darkness. 
 
 " Sapristi ! " ejaculated Constant, who had 
 not recognized the voice of his master ; '' in the 
 name of the Almighty, avaunt ! " 
 
 The sieur took up the flint which he wore 
 suspended round his neck by a gold chain, and 
 deftly lighted the tinder which hung beside it. 
 " Here ! Constant, relume the extinguished 
 lamp, while. I give Adolphe his orders — and 
 you, silly boy, gather your wits together that 
 have gone a rollicking with yon madcap 
 satirist." 
 
 The boy blushed, ashamed of having started 
 like a coward, but proud of having been singled 
 out on some secret service on this night of all 
 others. 
 
 " Tenez, Adolphe ; you are to go out and lurk 
 under the shadow of the cedars, a bow-shot from 
 the chateau, and when you hear steps advanc- 
 ing, go meet the intruders and. offer to betray 
 my secret. Tell them how Pierre drove off with 
 the fugitives in the direction of Avranches, and
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 247 
 
 use thy discretion to get them away as soon as 
 possible. Vite ! allez ! they are even now cross- 
 ing the park." 
 
 The boy seized his hat and bounded off with 
 alacrity; the others went to the scullery window 
 which faced that way, and unbarring a shutter, . 
 listened and peeped through the gloom of the 
 whispering night. 
 
 There was not a moment to lose. A pro- 
 cession of men and boys was even now in 
 sight of the chateau : the first rank carried two 
 lanthorns hung on high poles, which served 
 more to make them visible than to render them 
 able to see. In the centre walked two persons 
 in the uniform of his Majesty, with cocked hat, 
 and sword dangling at the belt. Two or three 
 priests' frocks were there, some ouvriers in the 
 pay of the clergy, and a rabble of boys eager 
 to pocket any valuable that Saint Fortuna 
 would throw in their way. Adolphe could 
 just make out so much by the dim light of 
 the swaying lanthorns, as he emerged from the 
 shadow of the trees. 
 
 '' Halte ! and look well to your arms there 
 behind ! " said a voice, which Adolphe recog- 
 nized as that of Andre, the tax-collector. 
 
 " Messieurs, it is a friend," cried Adolphe, 
 " that is, if you are good Catholics."
 
 248 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 " Welcome friend," replied one of the cocked 
 hats. " What Is your business ? " 
 
 '' First tell me what is yours here/' said 
 Adolphe. 
 
 Thereupon arose a consultation between the 
 two cocked hats, and a reference to a monk 
 who carried a stout cord. At last Andre 
 said — • 
 
 ''If it be that you are a friend of this com- 
 pany, pray how know you that you so be ? " 
 
 '' I have been hoping and expecting that 
 the town of Coutances would send to fetch 
 those children of the devil." 
 
 A deep '' Ah ! " burst from the invading 
 army, who had now, out of curiosity, surrounded 
 the page, and each one who had ejaculated the 
 loudest turned at once to chide and silence his 
 neighbour. 
 
 " Then they are here ? " asked Andr^. 
 
 " Pas du tout, messieurs, that is what I wish 
 to come to ; but, pardon me, speak low or my 
 lord will overhear us, and then I am ruined." 
 No ! they were conveyed to Avranches this 
 very night by that old heretic Pierre. See ! 
 the road is marked by the trampling of the 
 hoofs, for they tore away as if hell were let 
 loose at their tails."
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 249 
 
 The lanthorns were lowered, the Inspection 
 of the track bore out the page's story. There 
 was a silence of some seconds, then some one 
 cried — 
 
 *' Break open the doors of the heretic, the 
 cursed Huguenot ! " 
 
 Adolphe put his finger to his lips. " There 
 is a curse hanging to the old house ; a dead 
 body has been found this evening in the white 
 tower yonder — the skeleton of a woman. We 
 used to hear her sing at midnight, and knew 
 not whence the sounds came ; now she has 
 been discovered, and she lies yonder. Hark ! 
 is not that her note ? " 
 
 Teeth were chattering in the heads of the 
 invaders by this time. 
 
 The night had been growing darker, as the 
 thunder-cloud rode grimly in the western sky, 
 and distant mutterings of thunder came to the 
 ears of the persons who stood beneath the 
 sieur's cedar-trees. 
 
 " 'Twere best to hurry home before we get 
 a drenching," quoth one greybeard. 
 
 '' Dame ! why sleep we not to-night in my 
 lady's alcoves ? " asked a petulant youngster. 
 
 " Nay," replied Andre, " I will never make 
 one to break the king's peace. Mark me, mes
 
 250 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 braves gargons, her ladyship has good Interest 
 at court, and It behoves us to be moderate in 
 our actions and wary In our poHcy." 
 
 There was a suppressed titter among the 
 boys, with whom the moderation of the tax- 
 collector passed under the name of cowardice. 
 But as they turned to retrace their steps a 
 monk took Adolphe aside. 
 
 *' Tell me, young man, have they sent the 
 English demoiselle away, too ? " 
 
 Adolphe paused ere he replied, not that a lie 
 came unwillingly to his lips, but he scarcely 
 knew how to answer. 
 
 The monk shook him by the arm, and re- 
 peated his question. 
 
 '' Peste ! " replied the boy savagely ; " since 
 you will have it, know that mademoiselle It is 
 who lies dead In the white tower ! " 
 
 '' Dead ! c'est impossible ! I never saw one 
 so full of life and health." 
 
 " Mais, c'est vrai ! We bury her, la pauvre 
 fille, to-morrow." 
 
 There were lights burning long past mid- 
 night in the lodgings of the Jesuit confessor. 
 The bishop's old mother, who could not sleep 
 for fear of the lightning, saw across the gardens 
 of the bishop's residence a head looking out
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 25 I 
 
 again and again from the father s window, and 
 she said to herself, *' He too, le pauvre homme, 
 fears the storm." 
 
 Good, innocent old mother ! — with your 
 simple readings of human nature and distrust 
 in that special Providence to whose protection 
 you commend your life with faith (when the 
 stars are out and heaven flies no danger-signal) 
 — it is not thunder and lightning that Beretti 
 fears to-night. The storm he watches is one 
 of his own brewing, and whether his lightning 
 will strike down the object of his aim or no, 
 that is the doubt which keeps him pacing so 
 uneasily about his chamber. Before him on 
 the table lies a pile of papers ; he cannot for- 
 bear stopping now and then to read them to 
 himself, and to make audible comments on their 
 contents. 
 
 " Order from the chief magistrate for the 
 arrest of Durand, wife, and two children. Item 
 for arrest of Ethel Digby — good ! Charges 
 against the Sieur de Cornelli . . . item against 
 his serviteur Pierre. Aye ! these last will, like 
 good wine, improve with keeping." 
 
 The smile of satisfaction that played about 
 his thin lips, like March sunshine on a gusty 
 day, soon passed away, and he stood gazing
 
 252 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 with dark, melancholy eyes into the night ; the 
 heavy drops were pattering on the gravel-walk 
 beneath his window, and the thunder was snarl- 
 ing and growling in the distance. 
 
 ''It was such a night as this my mother 
 died ! Hey ! what struggles of heart and mind 
 has thy poor son gone through since then ! I 
 was to walk with Jesus — those were her words 
 — I was to go about doing good ! " 
 
 A haggard face turned from the window, a 
 deep sigh broke the stillness of the room, then 
 the young Jesuit knelt by his hard bed and 
 sobbed. When he rose from his knees there 
 was a look of firm resolve in his eye. 
 
 " God pardon me ! " he muttered to himself ; 
 ** my heart is almost too womanish to do Thy 
 will, O God! I confess I have grown to love 
 that family; and to disturb the peace of that 
 sweet mother, at such a critical period, too, for 
 her, gives my foolish heart a pang. Yet both 
 for her and him it must be best as it is 
 ordained — better far that she should be weaned 
 from her love of him before her soul is im- 
 perilled ; better for him to suffer confiscation, 
 the loss of home and wife and children, if haply 
 his erring soul may be led by such chastisement 
 to the bosom of the Church ; better, at all
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 253 
 
 events, to be punished in this world than in 
 the world to come. Aye ! it would be a fond 
 weakness to spare the rotten branch and so 
 spoil the foliage of a goodly tree. Heart ! heart ! 
 steel thyself to do justice, as thou lovest mercy ! 
 See how the divine lightning yonder cleaves 
 the gallant oak in its ruthless career — cleaves 
 the oak and the minaret on consecrated roof, 
 the holy friar and lewd gallant, with impartial 
 stroke; storm and tempest fulfilling His word, 
 clearing away the ill vapours from the sky, 
 healing the general disease, and unmindful of 
 what particular injury may befall by the way. 
 Aye ! -that is it ! So must the true servant of 
 the Church work, looking only to the end, with 
 humble faith and perseverance untired." 
 
 The young Jesuit again went to the window 
 and looked forth. The clouds had broken, and 
 the moon was riding peacefully in a field of 
 blue sky ; the inky clouds were packed close to 
 right and left, yet the rain no longer fell in 
 torrents, but softly as the gentle dew from 
 heaven. Beretti came back to the table and 
 looked at his chronometer, and muttered — 
 
 '' Three of the clock ! Then they must be 
 spending the night at the chateau ! Yet I 
 charged Brother Francis to return."
 
 2 54 ASYLUM CHRISTl. 
 
 " Pax vobiscum ! here am I — if Indeed this 
 dripping- rag be myself." 
 
 Beretti looked up and saw standing In the 
 doorway the figure of the monk ; his cowl, 
 drawn over his head, was soaked with rain, 
 which, indeed, was streaming from him at all 
 points, and the steam from his damp and 
 heated body visibly rose to the ceiling. 
 
 After a few words of surprise and explana- 
 tion, the monk recited to his superior the Issue 
 of the adventure, enlarging upon the cowardice 
 of the tax-collector and the certainty that the 
 Durand family had been removed ; but when 
 the Benedictine mentioned the sudden death of 
 the young English girl, Beretti put down the 
 pen with which he had been taking notes of 
 the monk's narration, and cried — 
 
 " Hold, brother, that smacks of falsehood ; I 
 cannot accept it ! " 
 
 '' The page who told me seemed deeply 
 moved, else had I too thought it all Incredible ; 
 and he added that she was to be Interred 
 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " Then shall I assist at her obsequies ! " said 
 the Jesuit ; " good-night ! "
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 255 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The morning broke sweet and fresh, with a 
 soft wind from the sea which wafted the scent 
 of autumn flowers from many a ripening field, 
 and ruddy-faced apples and tapering pears 
 glistened among the dripping leaves in the 
 early morning twilight. But it was neither 
 autumn fragrance nor orchard fruits that had 
 drawn old Pierre so early from his bed this 
 Sunday morning ; he stands a little behind the 
 right wing of the chateau with one of the 
 gardeners, right amongst the apple-trees and 
 in the long rich grass, favoured by the shade 
 to reach a luxuriancy unknown to other soils. 
 The old coachman puts his head now on this 
 side, now on that, as if he were debating some 
 question of great nicety, while the gardener, 
 with shouldered spade, awaits the oracular re- 
 sponse. " Bien ! she will do very nicely here —
 
 256 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 and hurry yourself, for she is to be in the 
 temple at half-past six." 
 
 " Aye, aye. Master Pierre ; I'll get two men 
 to help dig her out as pretty a snuggery as ever 
 you see. Dear, dear ! to think so comely a 
 young lady should come to so untimely an 
 end ! " 
 
 '' All flesh is grass," replied Pierre, as he 
 measured put, foot by foot, the needful length 
 for a grave, *' and your turn may be the next." 
 
 " That's very true. Master Pierre ; but is the 
 master going to have a burial service over her, 
 or how ? " 
 
 " Monsieur le Pasteur has been sent for, 
 since he, thou knowest, has no temple now at 
 Coutances to demand his services ; and to-day 
 the elect will worship in our private temple 
 here — after that, elsewhere, for the servants 
 of God are grievously tormented. And that 
 reminds me, last night's drive in the wet has 
 brought on my old rheumatism ; but I have 
 much to be thankful for, I have much to be 
 thankful for." 
 
 The two serviteurs departed in search of 
 men to dig the grave. 
 
 Let us now enter the chateau. The servants 
 are astir, but not with their wonted gaiety of
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 257 
 
 manner, for the natural carelessness of tem- 
 perament which is characteristic of the Gallic 
 race has evidently been sobered into a thought- 
 ful fear by some moral shock. They open the 
 shutters noiselessly, and glide about the wooden 
 floors as if they were afraid to wake the dead 
 echoes of a horrible past ; they swallow their 
 words again before they have well left the 
 throat, with a painful spasm of remembered 
 awfulness. It is the old, old blossoming of the 
 selfish panic, '' I may be taken next ! " 
 
 When the page returned to his master and 
 told him the trick he had played upon the monk 
 in making him believe that Miss Digby was dead, 
 it occurred to the sieur that at all events it might 
 be prudent to let this belief get about for a few 
 days, till either the affair blew over or he could 
 send her to some place of safety. Constant 
 and Pierre were therefore informed of the plan, 
 as they of course had been present at the dis- 
 covery of the skeleton in the white tower. 
 
 In the middle of the night Marie was aroused 
 by some one tapping her shoulder ; starting up 
 she met her father's gaze. He bade her get up 
 and acquaint Ethel with the state of affairs, tell- 
 ing his daughter in a few words what had 
 occurred, and urging the necessity of Ethel's 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 leaving her bedroom before the house was astir 
 in the morning. 
 
 Ethel slept in an ante-room opening into 
 Marie's, and hearing voices she had risen, wrapt 
 herself in a travelling-cloak, and peeped into 
 the bed-chamber. She was about to retire on 
 seeing the sieur, but he beckoned her to stay, 
 and, apologizing for the intrusion at such an 
 hour, put the whole case before her, and re- 
 quested her to make a hasty retreat to another 
 part of the house. In a few minutes she was 
 ready, and, passing the doors of the serviteurs, 
 who slept still a heavy morning sleep, the two 
 entered the white tower as noiselessly as they 
 could. 
 
 The sieur did not take her to the secret 
 chamber, thinking that it was unlikely the 
 chateau would be searched, now the clergy had 
 been put off the scent, but he left her in the 
 room which communicated with it. After reveal- 
 ing to her the secret passage by the chimney, 
 and placing some cushions for her to recline on, 
 he bade her good-night, and assured her that 
 though she was now no more, yet her breakfast 
 should not be forgotten. 
 
 At half-past six in the morning the bearers 
 had carried an open bier into the temple, as
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. , 259 
 
 the sleur's private chapel was called. Marie 
 and Philippe were there, and the sieur and 
 many of his servants, men and women. The 
 aged Pasteur la Rose mounted into a pulpit by 
 a circular staircase concealed in a tower of 
 wood, painted to imitate marble, and from the 
 loge, as it seemed, of this tower of vantage 
 addressed a few simple words to his hearers on 
 the subject of sudden death. This done, the 
 bier, covered with flowers and sprigs of holly 
 and bay, was once more carried, as the custom 
 was, low down and at arm's length between the 
 bearers, to the gray morning light and the long 
 waving grass beneath the orchard trees. 
 
 Then, as soon as the bier had been lowered 
 into the shallow grave, and the gardeners had 
 shovelled some handfuls of earth on the top, and 
 the servants had pressed round and dropped, 
 some a tear, and some a flower, and some a 
 word or two of whispered farewell, La Rose 
 held up his hand and prayed, but in silence, for 
 the law forbade him to pray aloud at funerals, 
 and the rest stood still with bended heads and 
 moving lips, in silent prayer. 
 
 As they stood thus, one approached the 
 grave, coming from under the apple-trees, 
 checking his hasty stride as he saw how the
 
 26o ASYLUM CIIRISTI. 
 
 little band of mourners was engaged, but yet 
 stealing to the crumbling verge, and peeping 
 over at the mingled earth and flowers which 
 lay below. He was clothed in domino and 
 long cassock, and a thick girdle of twisted silk 
 was tied round his middle and fell almost to the 
 ground. He crossed himself and murmured a 
 prayer like the rest. 
 
 La Rose, who had stood all the time with up- 
 raised hand, had no sooner let it fall than all 
 heads were raised and eyes uplifted to the 
 stranger's face. La Rose himself looked in- 
 quiringly at the sleur, and then furtively at the 
 stranger, as if he were uncertain what part he 
 ought to take ; but De Cornelli, bowing courte- 
 ously, spoke In a subdued voice — 
 
 " His reverence the Father BerettI does us 
 the honour of praying at our funeral." 
 
 BerettI held out his hand and replied, in 
 a louder tone — 
 
 " Over an open grave we can have but few 
 differences, and I, at least, may pray for the 
 dead." 
 
 For a few moments the mourners lingered, 
 looking down with bewildered eyes upon what 
 seemed to them the ruins of a young life pre- 
 maturely arrested. But when all were gone
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 26 T 
 
 except the pasteur, De Cornelli roused the 
 Jesuit from his musings thus : — 
 
 " Father Beretti, with you I cannot stoop to 
 any act of deception. You think you are looking 
 on the grave of a young girl ; so the serviteurs 
 believe, so the story has got about through the 
 mischievous drollery of one of my pages, who 
 wished to throw dust in the eyes of your priests. 
 For myself, I have not spoken to any one as yet, 
 either in favour of or against this theory ; and 
 if I have not refuted it, it is because I am 
 desirous to allow mademoiselle time to effi^ct 
 her escape from the pursuit of the — the authori- 
 ties. The fact is, the occupant of this grave 
 is as unknown to me as to you. Yesterday, in 
 making some researches in a neglected part of 
 the chateau, we came across a few unburied 
 bones, which this morning you find us render- 
 ing to mother earth. Now, I am frank with 
 you when I might have deceived you, and 
 I look to find you generous towards this English 
 lady, who has been betrayed by a natural im- 
 pulse into an act of imprudence." 
 
 " Imprudence ! an act that might well send 
 her to the Bastille, monseigneur ; but I pass 
 that by. So far as I am concerned she is safe ; 
 for, as you say, she is young and has not been
 
 262 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 born or bred amongst us, so that It could do no 
 good to visit penalties upon her. So much for 
 the astuteness of the Benedictine ! " And the 
 Jesuit laughed to himself at the thought of 
 Brother Francis's discomfiture, when he heard 
 how he had been outwitted. 
 
 The sieur and the Jesuit did not long remain 
 in company ; theirs was a courtesy so thin- 
 skinned that the volcano of religious differ- 
 ence might at any moment burst the crust, and 
 pour forth the lava of angry discussion. The 
 priest sought the apartments of Father Beauvais, 
 the sieur went to his studio. 
 
 After the morning service in the Catholic 
 chapel, and whilst the Huguenots, who held 
 their service at a later hour, were engaged in 
 fervid psalm-singing, it happened that Father 
 Beretti and Madame de Cornelli and her 
 daughter were met together in the red boudoir. 
 Madame was reclining on the sofa, as had been 
 her wont of late, and Marie was lightly touching 
 the harpsichord as she murmured to herself the 
 words of a song once admired by one now 
 absent. Beretti was pacing with measured 
 tread up and down the apartment, conning 
 aloud a breviary which he held in his right 
 hand. So fast did he mouth it, that an heretical
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 26 
 
 J 
 
 observer would surely have deemed he was 
 racing through the office for a wager. But not 
 so thought madame, whose eyes stole with a 
 soft beam of content from the absorbed priest 
 to the pensive daughter, filled with the warm 
 flood of thankfulness to God for the blessings of 
 a religious home and beautiful children, and, 
 when they had filled their cups to the brim, let 
 fall one unnoticed tear for her erring lord. 
 
 When the Jesuit had completed his task, 
 closed the well-thumbed book, and replaced it in 
 his breast, Madame de Cornelli said — 
 
 '* I have been thinking, my father, whether 
 it may not be mistaken policy on the part of 
 our Church to try and coerce these so-called 
 Reformed. My husband, I know well, has many 
 points of agreement with us ; his large and 
 sympathetic heart beats true to much that we 
 cherish, and in joining the Huguenots I do 
 believe that he Is mainly led by a passionate 
 love of freedom. Give him liberty to think as 
 he will, and you will find him in most points 
 your ally; but once put a string about your 
 falcon's leg, and he will. In his struggle to free 
 himself, get sundered from you for ever. I 
 may be wrong, father — Indeed, of course I must, 
 since the Holy Church is guided by God's Vicar
 
 264 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 on earth, who may not err ; but I want to hear 
 you explain to me how it is that the Church 
 thus makes use of an iron compulsion." 
 
 Marie had ceased to warble her wayward 
 notes as her mother spoke, and sat with parted 
 lips and that piquant arching of the eyebrows 
 that became her so well, waiting for the Jesuit to 
 explain a difficulty which had occurred to her too. 
 
 The father drew a chair near the sofa, gazed 
 with a long, wistful gaze, full of a half-sad 
 tenderness, into the eyes • of the lady, ere he 
 replied — 
 
 ** Dear sisters in the faith, a little opening of 
 the eyes is a dangerous thing ! One of two 
 things must we do, would we avoid the preci- 
 pice of religious error : either shut our eyes, as 
 the Italian women do when they cross the 
 mountain-pass on their mules, trusting to our 
 religious guides to guide our steps in the way 
 of truth ; or, if we can, study man and nature, 
 mind and matter, schoolmen and theologians, 
 philosophers of the a priori ox of \\\^ a posteriori 
 method — your Des Cartes and your Roger 
 Bacons, your great historians, your little ballad- 
 makers, your clever Montaignes, your Charrons, 
 your Fenelons, your Torricellis ; in fact, what- 
 ever serves to throw light on truth and error.
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 265 
 
 When you have done this, an4 opened the eyes 
 of your understanding, such questions as these 
 which you raise for my debating will assume 
 their due proportion ; they will no longer be the 
 idle questioning of a mind half disposed to 
 scepticism." 
 
 Madame de Cornelli's eyes were beginning 
 to fill with tears. The Jesuit proceeded in a 
 softer tone, resting his hand on hers — 
 
 " Nay, my daughter ; I know your heart is 
 right before God, and I only sound its depths 
 by casting in my harmless pebble. No common 
 temptations are surrounding you, and it will task 
 all our' prayers to preserve you from falling 
 away ; and, sweet friend, those prayers shall not 
 be wanting. I would not fatigue you with long- 
 drawn arguments to show you how those who 
 hold the truth are bound to maintain it, at the 
 cost even of precious human lives. If we do 
 not allow our citizens to spread abroad fevers 
 and plagues and such things as hurt the body, 
 how much less should we tolerate them who go 
 about to poison men's souls, and beget for them 
 the pains of purgatory ? But to quit the theory 
 and come to facts. Know ye, my sisters, that 
 the liberty that these pestilential heretics desire 
 is but the license to destroy our freedom. They
 
 266 ^ ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 reck nought of liberty of thought, save as touch- 
 ing their own opinions, and when the freedom 
 they ask is granted, straight run they to put 
 down with violence the religious liberty of all 
 who differ from them. Shall I recall to your 
 recollection the hundred and twenty Catholics 
 killed at Nismes by these offscourings, in the 
 year of grace 1567 ? Or, if that seemeth too far 
 away, shall I tell you how one Ferrier, in the 
 same glorious, antique city, was, in 16 13, ex- 
 communicated by his own heretical body for 
 simply speaking ill of Protestant synods ? Nay, 
 the words of the act which commanded his 
 expulsion are worthy of the attention of such 
 as think the dogmas of Geneva inculcate liberty 
 of conscience. It ran thus, if I remember 
 aright : ' We, in the name and power of our 
 Lord Jesus Christ, by the conduct of the Holy 
 Ghost, and with authority from the Church, 
 have cast him off from the society of the faith- 
 ful, that he may be delivered up to Satan.' 
 There ! is not the style truculent enough to suit 
 the secret counsels of the Vehmic tribunals 
 of Westphalia ? Oui, mes amies ; and to show 
 the poor fellow they were in earnest, these 
 Huguenots sacked his house at night, and sent 
 him naked out of the city ! Then, again, look
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 267 
 
 at Condes rebellion in the year 1615, when 
 these tolerated Huguenots tried to crush, our 
 holy religion, and overpower his most sacred 
 majesty the king ; but by the grace of God it 
 was soon put down. And Rochelle, the strong- 
 hold of the Reformed religion (so-called), affords 
 the most amazing proof of their intolerance. 
 In 1620 the great assembly, of which Rohan 
 and Mornais, you know, were the leading spirits, 
 passed a law confiscating the goods of all 
 Catholics ; and there, where the mistaken cle- 
 mency of the king had allowed the Protestants 
 freedom of worship, the same measure of free- 
 dom was refused to Catholics, and no Catholic 
 church was allowed within the walls of the city. 
 But to leave p^reat measures and come to the 
 amenities of life, which ladies know so well how 
 to estimate, what think you of a freedom 
 which forbade theatres and dancing, which 
 proscribed all gay colours in dress, and all 
 plaiting of the hair ? Why, the very pasteurs 
 themselves must confine their learning to He- 
 brew, avoiding the sound of Greek, as being, 
 forsooth, a profane tongue ! No smattering 
 of science might they obtain through chemistry, 
 or such like masteries ; no game of goblets, no 
 morris-dance, might enliven their weary spirits,
 
 268 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 and the children which God vouchsafed them 
 must be named by none other than a Bible 
 name ! There's your boasted freedom ! " 
 
 When the Jesuit had concluded, Madame de 
 Cornelli looked towards her daughter with a 
 triumphant smile lighting up her eye, and seem- 
 ing to say, '' I knew he would prove it to our 
 satisfaction." As for Marie, she rested her little 
 chin thoughtfully on her hand, and became 
 absorbed in her thoughts. At last she looked 
 up, with a flush of anger mantling over brow 
 and cheek, and said — 
 
 " I must crave your permission, your reve- 
 rence, to except my father from the strictures 
 which you have been applying to the Hugue- 
 nots. I believe he follows an ideal as lofty and 
 pure as man can set himself, and that if all 
 Catholicism lay chained at his feet, he would 
 stoop to unrivet the fetters and proclaim free- 
 dom of thought for all. You must pardon my 
 speaking in an excited tone, father. I reve- 
 rence the Church, but I will not stand by and 
 hear my own beloved father dispraised." 
 
 " Sister, the heat with which you answer me 
 does credit to your filial love. God pardon 
 thee, if in aught thou hast preferred the natural 
 yearning of the flesh to the spiritual things
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 269 
 
 of God. True, most true, it is that monselgneur 
 follows an ideal of his own, an ideal far above 
 the sodden image of perfection set up by those 
 with whom he consorts. There are men such 
 as he, no doubt, in the ranks of the heretics, 
 but they cannot leaven the whole lump ; their 
 society, my sisters, is a republic, where all are 
 equal, where no gifts of intellect or piety avail 
 to give one a commanding influence over the 
 others, but where the noisy, fussy, third-rate 
 intellect pushes its way to the front, and propels 
 the society into a dangerous fanaticism." . 
 
 As the Jesuit uttered the last words the dOor 
 opened and three figures appeared — the sieur, 
 followed by Philippe and Maintenon. All three 
 had recently attended * divine service in the 
 temple, and all three paced sedately in the 
 room with an air of gravity. 
 
 " Dangerous fanaticism ? " cried the sieur, 
 catching up the last words ; " allow me to say, 
 Monsieur le Jesuite, that it ill becomes you 
 to make my lady's boudoir an arena for theo- 
 logical strife, and hard names are but ill 
 arguments." 
 
 The arrival of the three heretics caused some 
 commotion amongst the trio who had been so 
 pleasantly discussing the affairs of the next
 
 270 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 world. Madame half rose with a flushed cheek, 
 and a shade of disquietude seemed to settle on 
 her brow, as she said — 
 
 " Mon cher, you mistake le bon cher.pere. It 
 is no theologic strife which has engaged us this 
 morning ; Indeed, had you overheard the whole 
 of the last sentence, you would have blushed 
 to hear yourself praised so well. If you will 
 know the subject of our talk — down, Main- 
 tenon ! down, I tell you ! — Father Beretti was 
 giving us some instances of intolerance among 
 your own elect, mon cher ! " 
 
 The sieur kissed away the arch smile which 
 was hanging on his wife's lips as she pro- 
 nounced these words, then extended his hand 
 to the Jesuit, as he replied — 
 
 " Thanks, good father, for your lessons from 
 history ; but I trow you drew your examples of 
 intolerance from one side only. Ah ! evil begets 
 evil, and It is somewhat difficult to turn one's 
 cheek to the smiter[ I remember, when in 1663 
 I came away from seeing poor Morin, ' the Son 
 of Man,' as the lunatic styled himself, burnt at 
 the stake in Paris, I felt my bosom burning with 
 hellish fury against the cruel Church which could 
 so persecute a harmless fool. And when again, 
 father, you shut up Saci, the director of the
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 27 1 
 
 Port Royal nuns, in your infernal Bastille, with 
 all my theories about religious freedom, I was 
 then for crushing Papists all the world over. 
 Believe me, ladies, you can't tolerate a Church 
 that won't tolerate you ! Self-preservation is 
 nature's first law ; and when you have stories 
 told you of Huguenots persecuting Papists, it 
 is only fair to remember what the good fathers 
 of your Church have wrought in the way of fire 
 and sword. The sentiment of revenge which 
 has prompted some of our reprisals I do not 
 defend ; it is, however, human. But when men 
 argue, * If I don't kill you, you will kill me,*' the 
 blame surely lies with the one who first appeals 
 to force." 
 
 The Jesuit, while the sieur was speaking, 
 had been making friendly overtures to Main- 
 tenon, who lay under the sofa, resting his great 
 tawny head on his fore-paws ; but to all the 
 father's offers of peace and amity the dog 
 was deaf, and continued steadily eyeing his 
 reverence in a calm offensive manner, which 
 delighted the heart of Marie. At length he 
 found an opportunity to say — 
 
 " Monseigneur will pardon me when I say 
 he has forgotten one great distinction between 
 our treatment of heretics and their persecution
 
 272 ASYLUM CHRTSTI. 
 
 of US. Holding, as we do, the doctrine that 
 there is no salvation outside the Church, 
 together with that other which affirms the 
 infallibility of the Church's teaching, we can do 
 no other but chastise away all heresy — we can 
 no more tolerate it than you can an open sewer 
 or a dangerous lunatic. But when Huguenots 
 begin to use force, they contradict the first 
 principles of their own creed, which makes 
 every man his own pope, and conscience the 
 sovereign interpreter of religious truth. We 
 act on principle ; you on impulse." 
 
 The sieur looked towards Marie, who had 
 been attentively following the discussion, and 
 replied — 
 
 " What think you, ma mie, about a principle 
 which leads you to slaughter thousands of 
 honourable lives ? Contrast it, I beg, at your 
 leisure, with the precepts of our gentle Lord 
 and Saviour, and ask yourself whether the 
 Christ of Galilee would, if He were amongst us 
 now, give the same counsel which He offered His 
 apostles — ' He that takes the sword shall perish 
 with the sword ' ? To my mind. Sir Jesuit, the 
 logical conclusion to which your premises lead 
 you is one of the strongest proofs that your 
 principles are false. My gorge rises and my
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 273 
 
 heart revolts at the bloody scenes enacted by 
 the Inquisition, and I can only say that if the 
 God you worship approves of your torturing 
 and thumb-screwing and burning alive, that 
 is not the Holy and Merciful Being whom I 
 serve." 
 
 Madame de Cornelli at this moment rose, 
 and, signing to Marie to give her her arm, 
 quitted the chamber. 
 
 " I fear we have disquieted madame," said 
 the Jesuit. 
 
 At this moment the door opened, and a 
 servant entered bearing a sealed letter, which 
 he said a special courier had brought. 
 
 ""Excuse me," said the sieur, taking the 
 despatch and preparing to retire ; " I must leave 
 the conduct of our argument to my son, now." 
 
 *' Or to your dog, monseigneur," replied 
 Beretti, as Maintenon took the chair vacated 
 by his master. 
 
 Madame de Cornelli and Marie were hardly 
 seated in the bay window of the little sitting- 
 room which opened into the sieur s bedroom, 
 when Cornelli himself appeared with the letter 
 which he had just unsealed. 
 
 '' How do you feel, my dear wife ? Strong 
 enough to travel to Jersey ? Ah ! good and 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 2 74 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 brave wife I you will need all your nerve, I fear, 
 if what the writer of this saith be true. Listen 
 to what our friend Jean de la Bruyere writeth : 
 * You ask me, mon ami, to come and see you. 
 I would that were possible, but my journey 
 to Paris is so near at hand that I must not 
 think of it. I know not if you have heard the 
 latest news from court, but I give it you, in 
 case you should not be fore-warned : the king- 
 has revoked the Edict of Nantes, and dragoons 
 are on their way to Rouen. What thou doest, 
 do quickly. I will buy thy estates and hold 
 them in pledge for thee and thine. See that 
 some trusty avocat has the business in hand. 
 Farewell !' — Our plans now must be hastened, or 
 it will be too late. To-morrow night I propose 
 that you set out. I shall go forward to the coast 
 with Philippe when it grows dark to-night, to 
 make sure that our vessel is in readiness. 
 Pierre and Constant, and Durand with his wife 
 and children, and of course Mademoiselle Ethel, 
 will accompany you." 
 
 " Helas, mon mari, I would it were well 
 over ! " 
 
 The sieur kissed his wife tenderly, looking 
 wistfully into the pale face, with such pitiful 
 thoughts of what might be, that he well-nigh
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 275 
 
 wavered in his resolution of quitting home and 
 fatherland for conscience' sake. 
 
 " Go, Marie, and seek thy brother, while I 
 stay here and comfort thy mother." 
 
 And Marie went downstairs as one in a 
 dream, stunned by the suddenness of the blow ; 
 for she had never left her home, and all she 
 loved was associated with the grey towers and 
 swaying cedars of the Chateau de 1' Esprit. She 
 found Phil alone in the red boudoir, threw her- 
 self on his neck, and burst into tears. 
 
 " Oh, Phil, we are going away, going to a 
 foreign land, 'and poor mamma ! " 
 
 " I am right glad," said her brother fiercely ; 
 '' better far is freedom with want than lordly 
 riches with slavery ! " 
 
 " You do not understand, mon frere, all the 
 risks we run by attempting to fly." 
 
 " Don't I, though ? Mais oui, Marie ; voyez 
 done ! If papa and I are caught we shall be sent 
 to the galleys for life, and if you or mamma arfe 
 caught you will enter a convent ; and then what 
 will Henri do ? " 
 
 *' Hush, Phil ! que tu es mechant."
 
 276 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 When Henri Gulllot returned to Avranches 
 with his father, he found a letter from his 
 brother, saying that he had sought service with 
 the Prince of Orange, and entreating Henry to 
 follow his example; that there was no promotion 
 for any but good Catholics in the navy of Louis,' 
 that William of Orange would gladly accept the 
 services of any French gentleman who offered 
 him his sword, and that both glory and emolu- 
 ment were to be won by serving in a navy 
 which was destined to carry the Reformed Faith 
 from the Netherlands to Spain. The young 
 lieutenant took counsel with his father, and at 
 length the two resolved to escape by sea to 
 Holland, as France was no place for those who 
 refused to put their consciences out to nurse. 
 Before Henri sailed, however, he wrote a letter 
 to his little friend Philippe, enclosing the portrait
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 277 
 
 of his mother which, as we have seen, the boy 
 presented to his sister in the cathedral at Cou- 
 tances. No jewel could have expressed his 
 feelings so pathetically as this valued relic, and 
 Marie knew, when she received it, that she was 
 accepting a pledge which he would one day 
 come to her to redeem. 
 
 So Inconsistent is woman, who even while she 
 refuses a man's hand to-day, is terribly annoyed 
 if he comes not to-morrow to solicit her anew ! 
 And Marie, having satisfied conscience by one 
 energetic act of repulse, thought it proper to 
 treat resolution by indulging in romantic dreams 
 of what might yet come to pass. But the 
 months passed, and no other letter came ; and 
 when, after waiting a long time in suspense, Marie 
 at last ventured to ask her father if Captain 
 Guillot was still in Avranches, she was startled 
 tq hear from him that the old man and the lieu- 
 tenant had sailed for Holland. This was a sore 
 trial of faith, and cost the young lady some 
 tears ; but when Ethel, who had been taken 
 into confidence, suggested that the lieutenant 
 might have taken this step from a desire to 
 clear himself of the charge of atheism, hope put 
 forth new buds, and fancy wove them into such 
 a wreath as brides may wear.
 
 2yS ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 For some months the Guillots remained at 
 Amsterdam, where they found quite a colony 
 of their own countrymen, haunting amongst 
 the gables of that Venice of the North, and 
 dangling their useless swords over the many- 
 bridged canals. 
 
 Captain Guillot procured an Interview with 
 the Prince of Orange, and obtained commissions 
 for himself and his son in the Dutch navy ; but 
 at present the service was merely nominal, and 
 many months of enforced idleness had to be 
 endured by the refugees. 
 
 To the old captain this retreat was welcome, 
 for there was no lack of old friends with whom 
 he would sit in some cabaret discussing the 
 chances of Louis and William, or playing 
 dominos with a good glass of Hollands by his 
 elbow ; but the lieutenant found the time weary, 
 and voted the refugees a bore. He was tired of 
 listening to their tales of hair-breadth escapes, 
 and admiring the dancing of their poodles ; and 
 as for the philosophers, Henri had no sympathy 
 with them, though he read their writings, and 
 went, with a young man's enthusiasm, as far 
 in the direction of free-thinking as the most 
 extreme. There was something of conceit, how- 
 ever, in all this ; he would frequently return to
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 279 
 
 his chamber after disputing against the dogmas 
 of Christianity, and kneel by his narrow bed to 
 breathe a prayer in the name of Him whom 
 he had recently all but denied. And at such 
 times the thought of the mother at whose knee 
 he learnt his first prayer would mingle with his 
 devotions, and Marie s sad face, as it impressed 
 itself upon him in the ball-room, would float 
 before his eyes, till the hard-featured philosophy 
 which had begun to shape his thoughts was 
 ever and again melted and fused into the softer 
 lines of religious sympathy. So impossible is 
 it to love any human being devotedly without 
 at the same time being drawn to love his 
 God. 
 
 After lingering more than a year at Amster- 
 dam, Henri removed to the Hague, in the hope 
 of getting some post or mission, or of falling in 
 some way under the notice of the Prince ; but 
 the number of needy Frenchmen who had 
 flocked thither soon showed him that it was 
 hopeless to seek advancement in that quarter. 
 There was a truce, also, at this time between the 
 French and the Dutch, and, though the latter 
 were apparently increasing their navy, no great 
 war was looming on the horizon. Henri would 
 sometimes ride down to the shore, and taking
 
 2 8o ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 a boat, pull about amongst the craft that lay at 
 anchor there. 
 
 One evening in the spring of 1685 he was 
 returning home on horseback along the straight 
 avenue leading from the sea to the Hague, 
 when in front of him he espied under the trees 
 a man dismounted and struggling with his horse. 
 As he drew near he noticed the long leather 
 boots and sword of a cavalry officer, who was 
 vainly trying to mount his steed ; for, when- 
 ever the rider lifted foot to stirrup, round went 
 the brute with a vicious kick, and a shake of the 
 head which tasked the strength of his bridle. 
 
 " Can I be of any service to you, monsieur?" 
 asked Henri, drawing rein. 
 
 "You can, monsieur. Have the goodness to 
 draw alongside and seize my beast by the head. 
 There ! softly ! enfin, j'y suis. I dropped my 
 whip," he continued, on regaining his seat, ''and 
 getting down to pick it up, was unable to 
 mount, as you saw. And now, monsieur, how 
 can I return your kind assistance ? " 
 
 Henri thought he detected rather a patron- 
 izing tone in the voice, and replied, with some- 
 thing of irony — 
 
 " By giving me a mount, monsieur, for I see 
 you are of the court."
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 251 
 
 " Give you a mount ? You speak in riddles, 
 my friend." 
 
 " Make interest with your Prince to give me 
 a ship, then. I long to be on the high seas, 
 and 1 weary of this phlegmatic Dutchman." 
 
 ** What ! do you wish me to counsel my 
 Prince — that phlegmatic Dutchman to whom 
 you owe your asylum — to break the truce and 
 rush into war to please a set of idle refugees ? " 
 
 Henri touched the hilt of his sword instinc- 
 tively, but replied — 
 
 " Oui, monsieur ; you are in the right. I 
 offended first ; but at least I was not personal, 
 and you were, for I am a refugee." 
 
 *' And I am William of Orange," said the 
 rider calmly. 
 
 For some seconds Henri could not answer, 
 he was so astonished. At length he so far 
 remembered himself as to take off his hat and 
 apologize for his rude remark. The Prince of 
 Orange laughed and bade him cover. 
 
 The two rode on together in silence. 
 
 "And what would you do if I gave you a 
 ship ? " said the Prince. 
 
 " Monseigneur, I would do the duty of a 
 Protestant Prince, now generally looked upon 
 as the protector of the Reformed Faith in
 
 282 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 Europe. I would coast about and pick up the 
 victims of priestly cruelty, opening fire on none 
 save in self-protection." 
 
 " You can scarcely expect a phlegmatic 
 Prince to approve so hazardous a course as 
 that, monsieur ? " 
 
 " Monseigneur has accidentally heard what 
 I thought of his Highness. He will best refute 
 me by granting my request." 
 
 " A pertinacious beggar, this Frenchman ! " 
 muttered the Prince. 
 
 The lights in the windows of the Stadt 
 House were now appearing, and a group of 
 gentleman had reined in their horses in the 
 place beneath the chestnut-trees, who saluted 
 William as he approached. 
 
 " We were beginning to be anxious, sire," 
 said a veteran, whose hair was tinged with 
 grey. 
 
 '' Ah, Schomberg ! After I sent you on, a 
 slight accident detained me, which this gentle- 
 man kindly remedied. I pray you ask him 
 his name and style, and bid him present himself 
 to-morrow at eight of the clock. I would speak 
 with him anon." 
 
 Accordingly Henri took leave of the Prince 
 with a fluttering heart. Chance had done in a
 
 ASYLUM CriRISTI. 283 
 
 moment what the importunity of months had 
 failed to effect. He retired to his lodgings to 
 dream of naval battles and Marie offering 
 wreaths of victory. 
 
 But William of Orange was not the man to 
 offer a vessel, however small, to a chance 
 comer. That night his secretary was examin- 
 ing into the antecedents of the sanguine young 
 lieutenant ; for in a neat, methodical register 
 were inscribed, though they knew it not, the 
 names, ages, quality, and past life of all the 
 French refugees who had petitioned to serve 
 under the Prince of Orange. 
 
 On the following day, then, Henri presented 
 himself and found William attended by officers. 
 Pointing to one who was in naval uniform the 
 Prince said — 
 
 " This gentleman. Monsieur Guillot, is about 
 to carry despatches to England, and has per- 
 mission to do what he can for your countrymen. 
 If you like to go on board, an officer unat- 
 tached, you are welcome." 
 
 The lieutenant accepted the offer gratefully. 
 Anything was better than the life of inactivity 
 he had been forced to lead, and, after all, the 
 despatch-boat might only be the excuse for an 
 enterprise somewhat hazardous.
 
 284 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 The sloop set sail for the mouth of the 
 Thames, and having left his despatches, the 
 captain made for the coast of France, where 
 they cruised about, picking up from time to 
 time fugitive Huguenots who had put out to 
 sea In open boats. When these grew too 
 numerous, the sloop returned and landed them 
 on the coast of Holland. It was on the third 
 of these cruises that Henri had begged the 
 captain to hug the shore of Brittany, that he 
 might land near Avranches and gather news of 
 his friends. 
 
 It was in October of the year 1685 that 
 Henri landed In a small boat a few miles north 
 of St. Michel. There he learnt from a fisher- 
 man, a well-known elder of the Church, that the 
 Sleur de Cornelll was In quest of a vessel to 
 transport his family to England. Henri there- 
 fore bade the fisherman hasten to the Chateau 
 de r Esprit and acquaint the sieur with the fact 
 that a Dutch sloop was standing out in the 
 offing, and would await his orders, if he could 
 arrange the time and place with the messenger. 
 
 Now when the sieur set off with Philippe on 
 the Sunday night to arrange with Pierre Bart, 
 the fisherman, for a boat to convey his family 
 to the sloop, he was quite unaware that it was
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 285 
 
 Henri Gulllot to whom he was Indebted. His 
 plan was to ride forward with PhiHppe and a 
 groom to the point of embarkation, that he 
 might be sure the vessel was one capable of 
 carrying his party, then to return part of the 
 way to meet the rest on the morrow. In case of 
 accidents Pierre had stuffed two pistols in the 
 holster, adding piously, as he pushed each 
 home, " God bless thee ! " 
 
 As the father and son left their home the 
 moon came out from a bank of clouds and lit 
 up the chateau they were leaving behind, so 
 that its long terraced walks and tapering 
 turrets gleamed white between the moving 
 trees, and the wind from the sea rustling 
 amongst the yellow leaves seemed to whisper a 
 hushed adieu ! The boy, thinking little of the 
 past, and more of the adventure they were 
 about to make, could not help breaking forth 
 into a murmured song of gladness, as it were 
 some bird fresh loosened from his cage. The 
 father, whose thoughts were away with the 
 happy days spent and gone, was plunged into a 
 heavy sadness, which betrayed itself by deep 
 sighs. 
 
 It is no light matter to give up a good estate 
 and risk your liberty and the liberty of your
 
 286 • ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 wife and children — for what ? For some 
 speculative opinions on religion ? Yet, after 
 all, these same opinions, be they true or false in 
 themselves, are worthy of being fought for, and 
 are as precious to their owner as houses or 
 lands ; for he who fights for his opinions about 
 God, does in fact fight for God, and he who 
 surrenders them for the sake of gold or honour, 
 does, in fact, sell his God for dross or the 
 stinking breath of the multitude. Therefore 
 let none sneer at the Huguenots who fled away 
 from their country that they might worship the 
 God they loved. With them it was no cowardice 
 which prompted flight ; rather were they the 
 cowards who remained, saved their lands, and 
 lost their peace of conscience. 
 
 After they had ridden on in silence for a mile 
 or two, and were come to the brow of a hill 
 whence they could see before them the sea and 
 behind them the white glimmer of the chateau, 
 the sieur pulled rein and paused to gaze upon 
 the home of his ancestors, while a tear or two 
 rolled unbidden down his cheeks. 
 
 " Oh, mon Dieu ! am I justified in this ? " he 
 cried. 
 
 " Mon pere," said Philippe, " the priests, not 
 content with robbing you of your religious
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. • 287 
 
 liberty, are trying all they can to rob you of 
 wife and daughter. I overheard the Jesuit 
 persuading mamma to quit you and enter a 
 convent." 
 
 " Le scelerat ! there is nothinof these men 
 will not do to compass their ends ; as they 
 phrase it, ' Dieu se sert de tous les moyens.' " 
 
 ''Poor mamma! they have made her so 
 miserable ; n'est-ce-pas, mon pere ? " 
 
 ''And yet, Phil, I am almost minded to turn 
 back. What a horrible thing to expose you, 
 mon cher, to a life in the galleys ! " 
 
 " Ah, mon pere, suffer me to strengthen^you 
 now, as you have so often strengthened me. 
 Let us do what is right, in scorn of consequence. 
 For my part, I fear not the galleys. God will 
 find some means to help us ; He will release us 
 or give us strength to bear it, and besides, I do 
 not fear we shall be stopped. The peasantry 
 are all for us ; no one will betray us to the guard 
 which patrols the coast, and once on board, vwe 
 la belle Angleterre ! " 
 
 The enthusiasm of the son communicated 
 itself to the father, who lifted his head proudly 
 and spurred his horse onward. 
 
 The moon had gone down, the night was 
 dark, the wind moaned through the forest that
 
 255 ASYLUM CIIRISTT. 
 
 lay on their left ; they could hear the heavy 
 roll of the breakers as they plunged sullenly on 
 the shingly beach. A sudden turn in the road, 
 and they rode down by the side of a brawling 
 stream to the hospitable sea. There was a tiny 
 red light twinkling hard by the cliff, and thither 
 the travellers directed their course. The 
 groom rapped at the frail . door with the butt 
 end of his whip, and out came a drowsy fellow 
 in a blue smock and long red cap which hung 
 over one shoulder. He rubbed his eyes, mut- 
 tered " Ventre-bleu ! I have slept ! " helped 
 Philippe to dismount with an '' Entrez, mon- 
 sieur," and a majestic air of welcome to which 
 his limbs seemed to have been set, so mechani- 
 cally precise were all his gestures, and taking up 
 a lanthorn, showed the groom a shed where he 
 could tie up the horses. 
 
 When the sieur entered the cabin he saw 
 Philippe embracing some one with both arms 
 and numerous kisses. 
 
 '' Ah ! mon pere, regardez done ! See, it is 
 our friend Henri ! " 
 
 That night they fairly talked themselves to 
 sleep in the fisherman's hut
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 289 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Monday was a busy day at the chateau for 
 those who were to make their pilgrimage to the 
 coast in the evening. Mathilde, the old nurse, 
 spent many an hour upstairs, collecting from 
 a store of tiny garments, long disused, and 
 strangely inappropriate to the wants of a sea 
 voyage. Constant could not help drawing his 
 cuff across his eyes as he relinquished his claim 
 on perquisites too heavy to carry with him. 
 Marie had flown to the white tower in the 
 night to tell Ethel and the Durands to make 
 ready for departure, and Pierre had summoned 
 a synod of stalwart young heretics in the 
 saddle-room, to whom he communicated the 
 secret and a store of pikes and muskets. At 
 one hour before midnight they were to assemble 
 under the cedars as an escort to the ladies, who 
 would ride securely in the great glass coach. 
 
 VOL. I. U
 
 290 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 At noon the groom returned with a letter 
 from the sieur, which was taken up by the old 
 nurse to madame, who was reclining on her 
 bed. 
 
 '' Cheer up, my lady, v'la une lettre, voyez 
 vous ? " and the goody took from her mistress's 
 hand the book of devotion in which she was 
 forgetting her sorrow. 
 
 The letter was opened with a nervous 
 tremor. 
 
 ^' Send Mademoiselle Marie to me, Mathilde." 
 
 When Marie came, her mother said, " Read 
 your father's letter, ma chere, my eyes ache." 
 
 And Marie read : — 
 
 '' My dearest wife, 
 
 " All is well and in readiness for you 
 all. The ship is a Dutch sloop, and who 
 should be on board but Henri Guillot ! He met 
 me last night. It is a comfort to know we 
 shall not be entirely amongst strangers. I 
 shall meet you." 
 
 The mother and daughter exchanged looks. 
 
 ** Marie, you knew nothing of Henri being 
 there ? " 
 
 Marie answered haughtily, " Ma fol, non ! " 
 And to tell the truth, she was glad to conceal
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 29 I 
 
 her secret satisfaction under the veil of gidish 
 indignation. 
 
 She wished she could have run to confide the 
 wondrous news to Ethel, but her father had 
 forbidden entrance to the white tower during 
 daylight. So she carried the letter downstairs 
 into the red boudoir, and read it over and over 
 again ; then, hearing steps in the outer hall, she 
 quickly thrust it between some leaves of music 
 which lay upon the table. 
 
 Immediately the door opened, and the foot- 
 man ushered in Father Beretti. Alas ! the 
 window was open, too, and a gust of wind blew 
 leaves and letter fluttering on to the floor. As 
 the sieur's letter fell nearly under the sofa, 
 Marie thought she heard a sigh come from it, 
 and a shadow seemed to move and rest beside 
 it. It was an evil omen. 
 
 She greeted the Jesuit with a dark look, and 
 when he kissed her hand turned her head aside 
 with an indifference almost akin to rudeness. 
 
 '' I have come, my sister, to confer with your 
 father, but they tell me he has gone to — to — 
 Voyons ! What was the name of the place ? " 
 
 " My father has gone on business — /izs own 
 business, your reverence." 
 
 "And when do you expect him back ? " asked
 
 292 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 the Jesuit, wincing slightly under the reproof of 
 the young lady's quiet sarcasm. 
 
 " We hope to see him to-night, but It Is very 
 uncertain." 
 
 Baffled again, he asked no more questions. 
 
 *' I hear the king has ordered twelve com- 
 panies of cuirassiers and twenty-four of the 
 royal etranger down to Rouen." 
 
 '' We, too, have heard It. I believe they are 
 commanded by Choiseul-Beaupre," said Marie, 
 assuming an air of Indifference. 
 
 " Monsieur le Marquis de Beuvron has orders 
 to assemble the chiefs of the pretended Re- 
 formed Faith In the Hotel de Vllle at Rouen. 
 They will have two hours given them to decide ; 
 then, if they still refuse to abjure, the dragoons 
 will live upon them at free quarters." 
 
 '' Mighty pleasant guests, your reverence ! " 
 said Marie, with a laugh. 
 
 " Quol ! is It possible you do not think they 
 may come here also ? " 
 
 '' Why should they ? We are Catholics here 
 — all but two." 
 
 " All but two. Indeed ! Methlnks you speak 
 slightingly of your father." 
 
 Marie took no notice of the rebuke ; an Idea 
 occurred to her.
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 293 
 
 " O ! ' perhaps you know where my father 
 and brother are gone. Dites-moi done, are 
 they not gone to Rouen to abjure ? " 
 
 The Jesuit elevated his eyebrows, and 
 shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Non, ma soeur, you amuse me with your 
 attempts to blind me. Monsieur votre pere 
 will never abjure ; he is too proud for that ! " 
 
 ''And Monseigneur I'Eveque is far too chari- 
 table to allow the dragoons to trouble us ; it 
 would indeed be disgraceful, after all we have 
 done for the Church." 
 
 '' I know not," said the Jesuit, " what the 
 bishop's personal feelings might be ; but in these 
 matters we must act for the good of all rather 
 than for the interests of this man or that. ' Ad 
 majorem Dei gloriam ' — that is our watchword ; 
 with this thought our actions are instinct. Your 
 father is a man of influence, and carries many 
 along with him. Those who oppose the Holy 
 Church must bend or break. I have come to- 
 day to arrange for your good mother and you 
 coming away. You will both be safer in a 
 sisterhood for a time. And now, have the 
 goodness to conduct me to your mother's room, 
 that I may talk with her." 
 
 " My mother is not well, your reverence, and 
 may not see you."
 
 294 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 " If she Is not well, all the more need for her 
 confessor to visit her." 
 
 ''Well, I will go and ask her permission," 
 said Marie, rising to depart. 
 
 The Jesuit had risen to open the door, and 
 on resuming his seat caught sight of the sieur's 
 letter, which lay half-concealed under the sofa. 
 It was of vital importance to the interests of 
 the Holy Church that he should find out the 
 whereabouts of the Sieur de Cornelli. It was 
 repugnant to his feelings as a gentleman to be 
 peeping into other people's letters, yet he could 
 not help reading the first words, " My dearest 
 wife, all is well and in readiness for you ; " and 
 having read thus much he became all the more 
 convinced that the best doctors of casuistry 
 would pronounce this to be one of those cases 
 where the " summum bonum omnium," or wel- 
 fare of the whole, ought to be preferred to the 
 secular pride of the individual. Accordingly, 
 the good father stooped and put forth his hand 
 to pick up the important missive, when an 
 angry snarl made him start back and ejaculate, 
 " Bon Dieu ! it is that diabolical mastiff! " 
 
 Maintenon now had one paw firmly down on 
 the paper, and his nose close to the floor, and 
 to all the ecclesiastical soft-sawder which the
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 295 
 
 Jesuit tried upon him deigned to take no heed. 
 However, it was important, in the interests of 
 religion, that the father should read more, so he 
 looked about for something with which he could 
 draw the letter a little nearer to him. An old 
 fiddle bow was lying in a corner, and with this 
 he was proceeding, with words of blandishment, 
 to filch the coveted paper from the dog's paw. 
 A low growl warned him off, but either his 
 strong sense of duty or his ignorance of canine 
 fidelity prompted him to persist. No sooner 
 had the fiddle-bow touched the letter than up 
 sprang the dog with a furious howl, m^ing 
 the priest recoil against the table ; at the same 
 time Maintenon sprang upon him with all his 
 weight, snapping his great jaws close to the 
 nose of the Jesuit, who, in his efforts to with- 
 draw that organ out of harm's way, overturned 
 the table, and himself with it, upon the polished 
 oak floor. 
 
 The noise of the dog barking and the table 
 falling summoned some of the servants, who, 
 with Pierre at their head, rushed in to see what 
 was the matter. Marie, too, came in, in time 
 to see the father sprawling on his back. Main- 
 tenon standing over him with tail erect and 
 brisding, her father's letter torn, half under the
 
 296 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 sofa, half lying by the table, and the fiddle-bow 
 still grasped in the hand of the Jesuit, who 
 seemed to have been stunned by the fall. 
 
 " Parbleu ! " said old Pierre ; '' his reverence 
 has been playing out of tune, I doubt ; he bien, 
 an he be dead, Satan hath him afore he thought 
 to. It's parlous work fiddling with an angry 
 partner." 
 
 Marie stepped forward and picked up the 
 letter, patted the dog on the head, who acknow- 
 ledged the compliment by a backward motion 
 of the ears. 
 
 '' See, all of you," cried Marie, holding up the 
 fragments ; " the priest has been trying to read 
 my letter, and he has been foiled by that faithful 
 hound." 
 
 Several voices muttered '' Le maudit ! " then 
 two men picked up the Jesuit and carried him 
 out into the hall, where Constant joined them. 
 A short consultation was held, and then Pierre 
 and Constant bore the unconscious confessor 
 swiftly up the great staircase, and through the 
 servants' lobby and the oaken door, into the 
 colder atmosphere of the white tower, in the 
 upper chamber of which they locked him up 
 and left him. 
 
 ''He will do no harm there, at any rate,"
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 297 
 
 quoth Constant, '' and can bide till the morrow, 
 when we shall be safe on board, let us hope." 
 
 '' And as yesterday was a feast in his church, 
 'tis only right to-day should be a fast," said 
 Pierre, with a wink. 
 
 Marie returned to her mother, and found her 
 pacing up and down the chamber, perturbed at 
 the thought of confronting her confessor. She 
 recounted what had happened in the boudoir, 
 and how the Jesuit had been stunned by his fall 
 and carried out by the servants. Madame de 
 Cornelli was relieved when she found that her 
 struggle to get free of priestly interference was 
 postponed, though she was grieved that on^ she 
 reverenced should have acted so basely. It was 
 one more weight in the scale that was settling 
 down towards husband and children and peace 
 in a foreign land, and life in a French con- 
 vent was continually growing less charming to 
 her imagination. 
 
 " Ah, Marie ! " she said, '' if I can only take 
 a good conscience with me, I shall not regret 
 either the riches of this actual life in Normandy, 
 or the riches of a possible spiritual life in some 
 sweet sisterhood." 
 
 " Soyez contente, ma mere ; the good God 
 has made you a mother, and no doubt He
 
 298 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 expects you to fulfil the duties He lays upon 
 you. But rest awhile ; I go to see if Mathilde 
 has all things ready." 
 
 The day seemed to pass slowly to those in- 
 mates of the chateau who were to take part in 
 the flight to the sea. They kept nervously 
 flitting about the halls and passages, each bent 
 on seeing if his neighbour had all things ready. 
 Adolphe had already imbibed enough cider to 
 render his tongue somewhat too voluble, when 
 Constant laid an embargo on the distillery, and 
 locked up the dangerous fluid. 
 
 By nine o'clock most of the servants had 
 retired to bed, and the chateau seemed to have 
 lapsed into profound silence ; but some of the 
 maid-servants, as they lay awake, thought they 
 heard the cry of some one imprisoned in the 
 white tower. They rose and alarmed their 
 fellows, who all huddled together against the 
 oaken door, shivering with superstitious fear, 
 or applying their ear to catch some less uncer- 
 tain sound. " It is the devil coming to damn 
 the heretics," quoth one. " It is the unbaptized 
 ghost of mademoiselle," quoth another. "It is 
 the fiend of unbelief," cried a third ; but whilst 
 with bated breath they listened or whispered, a 
 horrible sound of creaking locks smote upon 
 their ears.
 
 ASYLUM CIIRISTI. 299 
 
 Yes ; the mysterious door was turning on 
 Its hinges ! They were riveted to the spot 
 with terror, their Hmbs cold and clammy, their 
 hair bristling, their knees smiting together. It 
 seemed an hour before the door was open ; 
 they would have prayed, but the foul fiend had 
 stolen away their memories. 
 
 " Ah, miserlcorde ! " they shrieked, as a white 
 and hooded figure stood in the doorway, started 
 back at the first sight of the cowering half- 
 naked figures, then smiled a ghastly smile as 
 she held up a lamp and closed the door behind 
 her. 
 
 -" I am the ghost of Ethel DIgby, and this Is 
 my private promenade ! Away to your beds, 
 or I shall carry you all to hell ! " 
 
 At these words off they scampered right and 
 left to their bedrooms, and as they ran seemed 
 to hear the ringing laugh of the spirit as it 
 paced along the sounding corridor. 
 
 Marie was already dressed for the journey 
 when Ethel tapped at her door, and the two 
 girls had a hearty laugh at the expense of their 
 superstitious maidens. 
 
 '' I have laid them for to-night, dear Marie ; 
 they will not dare to peer about now, lest I 
 carry them off to the place of brimstone."
 
 300 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 "It is very clever of you to think of such a 
 trick ; but how knew you that they were all 
 standing without ? " 
 
 " Ah ! that's the strange thing which I cannot 
 understand. You must know, Marie, that we 
 were waiting, the Durands and I, for Pierre to 
 summon us to the temple, when a terrific yelling 
 and beseeching sounded over our heads. We 
 were amazed and frightened, thinking the tower 
 must be haunted, for we knew nobody was in it 
 but ourselves. At last I plucked up courage to 
 take the keys (for Constant had given me a 
 duplicate) and come forth to ask you what it 
 could mean, when lo ! on opening the door, I 
 saw a crowd of women with wild gestures and 
 dishevelled hair. Oh ! how weak I felt at that 
 moment ! But when I saw they shrank from me 
 I bethought me of the stratagem I have just 
 told you. But what, I pry thee, could have been 
 the clamour which so alarmed us in the tower?" 
 
 '' Oh ! sans doute 'twas Father Beretti," said 
 Marie, laughing, and she proceeded to give 
 her friend the narration of that gentleman's 
 discomfiture and confinement. 
 
 At ten o'clock, under the pale moonlight, 
 figures were moving across the lawn behind the 
 chateau, and emerging from the shadows of the
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 3OI 
 
 apple-trees and rustling through the long grass. 
 By a small door, through which streamed a red 
 light, stood two men with lanthorns, and as 
 each person approached to enter the temple, 
 they raised the lights and scanned the face of 
 him who claimed admission. 
 
 Inside, a strange scene presented itself; flam- 
 beaux and torches lit up the chapel, which was 
 nearly filled with men and women and children 
 of all ages, the males standing on one side, the 
 females on the other. Most of the men were 
 covered, but a few had removed their hats. All 
 were talking in an excited manner ; some were 
 embracing each other, as if for the last time, 
 with tears and sobs. So far had they gone in 
 divesting themselves of superstition, that they 
 had lost much of reverence for the house of 
 God. It is the penalty of all good revolutions, 
 excess on the other side ; for even while some 
 layman was reading from the pulpit a chapter 
 out of the Bible, hats were worn and murmured 
 conversation kept up ; but the form of respect 
 which is usually paid to the consecrated building 
 was not withheld from the pasteur, for as soon 
 as La Rose entered through the door communi- 
 cating with the chateau they all rose and 
 saluted him, " The Lord be with you ! "
 
 302 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 " And with you, my children ! " answered the 
 old man, bowing low on either side. 
 
 Then, as he mounted the stairs which 
 deviously conducted to the pulpit, there was a 
 great settling down into their benches, and 
 throats were cleared, and much unconstrained 
 spitting was rife for several minutes. Then the 
 grey-haired pasteur took his hymn-book and 
 gave out a psalm, and with one voice old and 
 young, as they sat, sang from memory and in 
 unison, slowly, but with feeling. When the 
 last wail of the psalm had ceased to reverberate, 
 all rose to their feet, and La Rose commenced 
 a prayer. The old man was so affected as he 
 asked a blessing on the house of the Cornelli 
 that his voice broke more than once, and as he 
 proceeded to recount the manly virtues of the 
 sieur, and the present help in time of trouble 
 which he had always been to Catholics and 
 Reformed alike, a loud sob from the gallery 
 made his hearers look up and see Madame de 
 Cornelli on her knees, her head buried in her 
 hands. Then the pasteur prayed for her who 
 was with them, though not of them, and invoked 
 the divine protection on her who had so often 
 protected the poor and the oppressed. And in 
 the pause which ensued there was audible the
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 303 
 
 sound of childish weeping in the gallery, and 
 those who looked up saw little Jeannette put 
 her frail arms about the lady's neck and whisper. 
 And when all was over and the faithful had 
 dispersed, save two or three who still lingered 
 about the door, one came up to Pierre, saying — 
 
 *' Surely God will be gracious to the poor 
 lady and her family, and get them safe across 
 the sea ! " 
 
 The old serviteur slowly shook his head as 
 he replied — 
 
 " Nay, brother, I misdoubt it much, since 
 that little wench that they call Jeannette 
 invoked the Scarlet Woman." 
 
 " Bon Dieu, camarade ! what was it the little 
 jade said ? " 
 
 '' Why, she put her arms about madame's 
 neck, and said — aye, she positively dared to say 
 it in the temple, when Monsieur la Rose was 
 praying so fine " 
 
 '' He ! quoi, camarade ! and what did the 
 little vixen say, then ? " 
 
 " Why, she hoped the Virgin Mary would 
 come with us, too ! " 
 
 " C'est impossible ! " 
 
 " Si ! I heard with these very ears, and I 
 wonder I wasn't struck dead, I do."
 
 304 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 
 
 " And what did madame say ? " 
 
 " Ventre-bleu ! I couldn't hear ; but she 
 hugged the Httle mischievous creature to her- 
 self, and it's my belief she's an imp of dark 
 ness ! " 
 
 " Who ? who ? vite, camarade ! " 
 
 " Why, the wench ; the master stonemason 
 has gone and begot the devil incarnate ! And I 
 am afraid to travel with her — only I carry a 
 pistol and a silver bullet ; " and the old coach- 
 man tipped his co-religionist a wink which was 
 intended to escape the notice of the satanic 
 authorities. 
 
 By eleven o'clock Madame de Cornelli and 
 Marie and Ethel had mounted into the glass 
 coach, which had been drawn up at some dis- 
 tance from the chateau, to avoid awaking 
 those left behind ; the page Adolphe and old 
 Mathilde sat behind, Pierre and Constant were 
 on the box, and another carriage followed carry- 
 ing the Durands and some serviteurs of *' the 
 Religion." Besides these, some young farmers 
 rode by the side of the coach, armed with the 
 old-fashioned flint musket or arquebus. 
 
 At the lodge gate there was an affecting 
 parting between Pierre and his mother. The 
 old Ribston-pippin had stoutly refused to
 
 ASYLUM CHRISTI. 305 
 
 leave her home, and as the coach drove 
 through she launched a few texts of warning 
 import at the head of her audacious son. 
 
 " The Lord bless you, mother ! " cried Pierre, 
 waving his hand. 
 
 ** I would cry the same on you, mon Pierre, 
 but I can't expect it on Him; I solidly can't . . ." 
 The rest of her objurgation was swept away by 
 the west wind, which blew salt from the gulf 
 
 '' Three hours and we are free ! " shouted 
 Adolphe. 
 
 " Hush, you fool ! " whispered Mathi^e ; 
 "hush ! you will raise the patrol ! " 
 
 END OF VOL. L 
 
 LONDON : PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET 
 AND CHARING -CROSS. 
 
 VOL. I. X