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 LI E) R.AFLY 
 
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 323hU 
 1839 
 
Return this book on or before the 
 Latest Date stamped below. 
 
 University of Illinois Library 
 
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THE HUGUENOT, 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
London : 
 
 Printed by^A.SpornswooDE . 
 
 New- Street-Square, 
 
THE 
 
 HUGUENOT 
 
 A TALE 
 
 THE FRENCH PROTESTANTS, 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 THE GIPSY," "THE ROBBER," 
 &c. &c. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR 
 
 LONGMAN, ORME, BROWN, GREEN, & LONGMANS, 
 
 PATERNOSTER- ROW. 
 
 1839. 
 
r^ I- J 
 v.l 
 
 DEDICATION, 
 
 TO 
 
 CHARLES RUDOLPHE 
 
 LORD CLINTON, 
 
 &c. &c. &c. 
 
 My Lord, 
 
 Although I, of course, look upon the book 
 
 which I now venture to dedicate to one whom 
 
 I so much esteem and respect, with those 
 
 parental prejudices which make us often over- 
 
 vi look all defects, and magnify any good qualities 
 
 ^J^ in our offspring, yet, believe me, I feel that it 
 
 C is very far inferior to that which I could wish 
 
 04 to present to you. Do not then measure my 
 
 regard by the value of the work, but accept it 
 
 ^ only as a very slight t^timony of great esteem > 
 
 ^ A3 
 
VI DEDICATION. 
 
 and, at the same time, allow me, even in my 
 Dedication, to say a few words concerning the 
 book itself. 
 
 I will not trouble you or the public with any 
 reasoning upon the general conduct of the 
 story — why I suddenly changed the scene 
 here, or flew off to another character there, — 
 why I gave but a glimpse of such a personage, 
 or dwelt long and minutely upon another. I 
 believe and trust that those who read the work 
 attentively will discover strong reasons for all 
 such proceedings, and I am quite sure that 
 much thought and care was bestowed on each 
 step of the kind before it was taken. Your own 
 good taste will decide whether I was right or 
 wrong, and blame or approve, I know, what- 
 ever I might plead. The public will do so also ; 
 and, as a general rule, I think it best to conceal, 
 as far as possible, in all cases, the machinery 
 of a composition of this kind, suffering the 
 wheels to produce their effect without being 
 publicly exhibited. 
 
 I have heard many authors blamed, however, 
 and doubtless have been so myself, for fre- 
 
DEDICATION. Vll 
 
 quently changing the scene or character before 
 the reader's eyes. There are people who read 
 a romance only for the story, and these are 
 always displeased with any thing that interrupts 
 their straight- forward progress. But nature 
 does not tell her stories- in such a way as these 
 readers desire ; and, in the course of human life, 
 there are always little incidents occurring, which 
 seem of no earthly importance at the time, but 
 which, in years long after, affect persons, and 
 produce events, where no one could imagine 
 that such a connexion is likely to be brought 
 about. 
 
 I have always in this respect, as in all others, 
 endeavoured to the best of my abilities to copy 
 nature ; and those readers who pass over little in- 
 cidents, because they seem at the time irrelevant, 
 or run on to follow the history of one character, 
 whenever a less interesting personage is brought 
 upon the scene, will derive little either of profit 
 or pleasure from any well constructed work of 
 fiction. I have, as far as possible, avoided in 
 all my works bringing prominently forward 
 any character or any scene which has not a 
 A 4 
 
Vlll DEDICATION. 
 
 direct influence upon the progress and end of 
 the tales ; but I have equally avoided pointing 
 out to the superficial reader, by any flourish of 
 trumpets, that the personage he thinks of no 
 importance is "to turn out a great man in the 
 end," or that the scene which seems uncon- 
 nected and irrelevant will be found not without 
 results. 
 
 Besides these considerations, however, I trust 
 every romance-writer in the present day pro- 
 poses to himself greater objects than the mere 
 telling of a good story. He who, in the course 
 of a well-conceived and interesting tale, excites 
 our good passions to high and noble aspirations ; 
 depicts our bad passions so as to teach us to 
 abhor and govern them ; arrays our sympathies 
 on the side of virtue, benevolence, and right; 
 expands our hearts, and makes the circle of our 
 feelings and affections more comprehensive ; 
 stores our imaginations with images bright, and 
 sweet, and beautiful ; makes us more intimately 
 and philosophically acquainted with the cha- 
 racters of our fellow-men ; and, in short, causes 
 the reader to rise wiser and with a higher appre- 
 
DEDICATION. IX 
 
 ciation of all that is good and great, — attains 
 the grand object at which every man should 
 aim) and deserves the thanks and admiration of 
 mankind. Even he who makes the attempt, 
 though without such success, does something, 
 and never can write altogether in vain. 
 
 That you, to whom I inscribe this work, 
 can appreciate such purposes, and will en- 
 courage the attempt, even where, as in these 
 pages, it goes little beyond endeavour, is no 
 slight pleasure to me : nor is it an unmeaning 
 or insincere compliment when I say, that 
 though I yield my own opinions to no man, 
 yet I have often thought of you and yours 
 while I have been writing these volumes. I 
 know not whether you remember saying one 
 day after we had visited together the school 
 instituted by our noble acquaintance Guic- 
 ciardini, " that whether it succeeded or failed, 
 the endeavour to do ffood ouojht to immortalise 
 him." Perhaps you have forgotten the words, 
 but I have not. 
 
 Allow me, ere I end this long epistle, to add 
 something in regard to the truth of the repre- 
 
X DEDICATION. 
 
 sentations made in the work, and the found- 
 ation on which the story rests. If you will 
 look into the curious " Memoires Historiques 
 sur la Bastille," published in 1789 (vol. i. 
 page 203.), you will find some of the bare facts, 
 as they are stated in the Great Register of the 
 Bastille, on which the plot of the tale that 
 follows entirely hinges. 
 
 Of course I cannot forestall my story by 
 alluding more particularly to those facts, and 
 I have only further to say on that subject, that 
 for many reasons I have altered the names 
 inserted in the Great Register. I have also 
 taken the same liberty with regard to the 
 scenes of many events which really occurred, 
 placing in Poitou what sometimes took place 
 in Dauphiny, sometimes in Provence. Nor 
 have I felt myself bound in all instances to 
 respect the exact datesy having judged it ex- 
 pedient to bring many events within a short 
 compass, which were spread over a greater 
 space of time. I have endeavoured, however, 
 to represent most accurately, without prejudice 
 or favour, the conduct of the French Catholics 
 
DEDICATION. XI 
 
 to French Protestants, and of Protestants to 
 Catholics, during the persecutions of the seven- 
 teenth century. My love and esteem for many 
 excellent Catholics — priests as well as laity — 
 would prevent me, I believe, from viewing the 
 question of the revocation of the edict of 
 Nantes, and the consequences thereof, with a 
 prejudiced eye ; and when I read the following 
 passages in the writings, not of a Protestant, 
 but of a sincere Catholic, I am only inclined 
 to doubt whether I have not softened the picture 
 of persecution. 
 
 " II restait peu a faire pour exciter le zele 
 du roi centre une religion solemnellement 
 frappee des plus eclatans anathemes par I'eglise 
 universelle, et qui s'en etait elle-meme frappee 
 la premiere en se separant de tout I'antiquite 
 sur des points de foi fondamentaux. 
 
 " Le roi etait devenu devot, et devot dans la 
 derniere ignorance. A la devotion se joignit 
 la politique. On voulut lui plaire par les en- 
 droits qui le touchaient le plus sensiblement, 
 la devotion et I'autorite. On lui peignit les 
 
Xll DEDICATION. 
 
 Huguenots avec les plus noires couleurs ; un etat 
 dans un etat, parvenu a ce point de licence a 
 force de desordres, de r6voltes, de guerres civiles, 
 d'alliances etrangeres, de resistance a force 
 ouverte contre les rois ses predecesseurs, et 
 jusqu'a lui-meme reduit a vivre en traite avec 
 eux. Mais on se garda bien de lui apprendre 
 la source de tant de maux, les origines de leurs 
 divers degres et de leurs progres, pourquoi et 
 par qui les Huguenots furent premierement 
 armes, puis soutenus, et surtout de lui dire un 
 seul mot des projets de si longue main pour- 
 penses, des horreurs et des attentats de la ligue 
 contre sa couronne, contre sa maison, contre son 
 pere, son ai'eul, et tons les siens. 
 
 " On lui voila avec autant de soin ce que 
 I'evangile, et d'apres cette divine loi les apotres, 
 et tous les peres et leur suite, enseignent la 
 maniere de precher Jesus Clirist, de convertir 
 le? infideles et les heretiques, et de se conduire 
 en ce qui regarde la religion. On toucha un 
 devot de la douceur de faire, aux depens d'autrui, 
 une penitence facile qu'on lui persuada sure 
 pour I'autre monde. ***** 
 
DEDICATION. XIU 
 
 " Les grands ministres n'etaient plus alors. 
 Le Tellier au lit de la mort, son funeste fils 
 etait le seul qui restat, car Seignelay ne faisait 
 guere que poindre. Louvois, avide de guerre, 
 atterre sous le poids d'une treve de vingt ans, 
 qui ne faisait presque que d'etre signee, espera 
 qu'un si grand coup porte aux Huguenots 
 reunirait tout le Protestantisme de I'Europe, et 
 s'applaudit en attendant de ce que le roi ne 
 pouvant frapper sur les Huguenots que par ses 
 troupes, il en serait le principal executeur, et 
 par la de plus en plus en credit. L'esprit et le 
 genie de Madame de Maintenon, tel qu'il vient 
 d'etre represente avec exactitude, n'etait rien 
 moins que propre, ni capable d'aucune affaire 
 au-dela de I'intrigue. Elle n'etait pas nee ni 
 nourrie a voir sur celle-ci au-dela de ce qui lui en 
 etait presente, moins encore pour ne pas saisir 
 avec ardeur une occasion si naturelle de plaire, 
 d'admirer, de s'affermir de plus en plus par la 
 devotion. Qui d'ailleurs eut su un mot de ce 
 qui ne se deliberait qu'entre le confesseur, le 
 ministre alors comme unique, et I'epouse nou- 
 velle et cherie ; et qui de plus eut ose contre- 
 
XIV DEDICATION. 
 
 dire ? C'est ainsi que sont menes a tout, par 
 une voie ou par une autre, les rois qui, par 
 grandeur, par defiance, par abandon a ceux qui 
 les tiennent, par paresse ou par orgueil, ne 
 se communiquent qu'a deux ou trois personnes, 
 et bien souvent a moins, et qui mettent entre 
 eux et tout le reste de leurs sujets une barriere 
 insurmon table. 
 
 " La revocation de I'edit de Nantes, sans le 
 moindre pretexte et sans aucun besoin, et les 
 diverses proscriptions plutot que declarations 
 qui la suivirent, furent les fruits de ce complot 
 affreux qui depeupla un quart du royaume ; qui 
 ruina son commerce ; qui I'affaiblit dans toutes 
 ses parties ; qui le mit si longtemps au pillage 
 public et avoue des dragons ; qui autorisa les 
 tourmens et les supplices dans lesquels ils firent 
 reellement mourir tant d'innocens de tout sexe 
 par milliers ; qui ruina un peuple si nombreux ; 
 qui dechira un monde de families ; qui arma les 
 parens contre les parens pour avoir leur bien et 
 les laisser mourir de faim ; qui fit passer nos 
 manufactures aux etrangers, fit fleurir et re- 
 gorger leurs etats aux depens du notre, et leur 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 fit batir de nouvelles villes ; qui leur donna 
 le spectacle d'un si prodigieux peuple proscrit, 
 nu, fugitif, errant sans crime, cherchant asile 
 loin de sa patrie ; qui mit nobles, riches, vieil- 
 lards, gens souvent tres-estimes pour leur piete, 
 leur savoir, leur vertu, des gens aises, faibles, 
 delicats, a la ruine, et sous le nerf tres-efFectif 
 du comite, pour cause unique de religion ; enfin 
 qui, pour comble de toutes horreurs, remplit 
 toutes les provinces du royaume de parjures et 
 de sacrileges, ou tout retentissait de hurlemens 
 de ces infortunees victimes de I'erreur, pendant 
 que tant d'autres sacrifiaient leur conscience a 
 leurs biens et a leur repos, et achetaient I'un et 
 I'autre par des abjurations simulees, d'ou sans 
 intervalle on les trainait a adorer ce qu'ils ne 
 croyaient point, et a recevoir reellement le 
 divin corps du saint des saints, tandis qu'ils 
 demeuraient persuades qu'ils ne mangeaient 
 que du pain qu'ils devaient encore abhor rer. 
 Telle fut I'abomination generale enfantee par la 
 flatterie et par la cruaute. De la torture a 
 Tabjuration, et de celle-ci a la communion, il 
 n'y avait pas souvent vingt-quatre heures de 
 
XVI DEDICATION. 
 
 distance, et leurs bourreaux 6taient leurs con- 
 ducteurs et leurs t6moins. Ceux qui, par la 
 suite, eurent I'air d'etre changes avec plus de 
 loisir, ne tarderent pas par leur fuite ou par 
 leur conduite a dementir leur pretendu retour." 
 — St. Simon, vol. xiii. page 113. ed. 1829. 
 
 I have now nothing further to say, my dear 
 Lord Clinton, but to beg your pardon for hav- 
 ing already said so much, and to express a hope 
 that you, and the public, will deal leniently by 
 that which is now offered you, with the highest 
 respect and esteem, by 
 
 Yours most faithfully, 
 
 G. P. R. James. 
 
 Fair Oak Lodge, Petersfield. 
 17 th Nov. 1838. 
 
THE HUGUENOT, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE HERO, HIS FRIEND, AND HIS DWELLING IN 
 THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 There is a small town in one of the remote 
 provinces of France, about ten miles from tlie 
 sea shore, and two or three hundred from the 
 capital, on the appearance of which it may 
 be as well to dwell for a short time ; noticing 
 not alone its houses and its streets as they ap- 
 peared in the seventeenth centur}^, but its in- 
 habitants, their feelings, and their customs, at 
 that period. 
 
 "Were we not to make this formal sort of pre- 
 sentation, the reader would feel as if set (!cv. n 
 suddenly amidst a crowd of strangers witli no 
 one to introduce him, with no one to unpadlock 
 the barrier which the cautious laws of eoc'ety 
 set up between man and man, to guard ag^viast 
 the wild-beast propensities of the race of in- 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 tellectual tigers to which we belong. Now, 
 however, if we manage skilfully, the reader may 
 become as familiar with the people of another 
 day, and scenes of another land, as if they had 
 been the playfellows of his childhood, and the 
 haunts of his youth ; and may go on calmly with 
 those to whom he is thus introduced through the 
 dark and painful events which are recorded in 
 the pages that follow. 
 
 That part of France in which our scene is 
 laid, presents features which dilFer very much 
 from the dull and uninteresting aspect of the 
 land from Calais to Paris, and from Paris to 
 the mountains of Switzerland — the route gene- 
 rally pursued by our travelling countrymen, 
 whether they go forth to make what is usually 
 called the grand tour, or content themselves 
 with idling away a long space of mispent time 
 amongst the Helvetian mountains. In the dis- 
 trict that I speak of, the face of the country, 
 though it cannot perhaps be called mountain^ 
 ous, is richly varied, running up in,to occasional 
 high and pointed hills, presenting frequent 
 masses of rock and wood, diversified by a mile or 
 two, here and there, of soft pasture and meadow ; 
 with innumerable streams — some calm and 
 peaceful, some fierce and torrent-like, som^e 
 
THE HUGUENOT. S 
 
 sparkling and playful, giving an air of life and 
 glad activity to the land through which they 
 flow. Tliese manifold streams shed also a hue 
 of indescribable verdure, a fresh leafyness of 
 aspect, that is most grateful to the eye; and 
 though there is not there, as in our own land, 
 the frequent" hedge-row, wdlh its sweet village 
 associations, yet there is no want of high umbra- 
 geous trees scattered here and there, besides 
 the thick woods that, in many places, occupy 
 several leagues in extent, and the lesser copses 
 that nest themselves in many a dell. 
 
 The district that we speak of is bright in its 
 skies and warm in its sunshine, though it is not 
 precisely in the region of the richest vine ; and 
 there are scarcely five days, during six months of 
 the year, in which, on every stony bank or on tne 
 short soft turf above the large lizards may not 
 be seen basking in their coats of green and 
 gold. There are not, indeed, the cloudless skies 
 of Italy, which, notwithstanding their splendid 
 colouring, are insipid from their very cloud- 
 lessness : no, but wreathed in grand masses by 
 the free air, sometimes drifting from the British 
 channel, sometimes sweeping from the wide 
 western ocean, tlie clouds and the sunshine sport 
 together in the heaven, while the shadow and 
 B 2 
 
4 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 the light chase each, other over the earth below, 
 and ever and anon comes down a passing 
 s]lo^^■er, refreshing the lands it lights upon, and 
 leavinir them briohter than before. 
 
 On the top of one of the tall rocky hills we have 
 mentioned, in very remote feudal times, — for we 
 find it mentioned in all the wars undertaken by 
 the Edwards and the Henries in their vain en- 
 deavours to grasp a crown that did not belong 
 to them, — a town had been built and fortified, 
 circumscribed by large stone walls flanked by 
 round towers, and crowned by the square keep 
 of a castle, only one wall of which has been 
 left, for now near a century and a half. This 
 town was of small size, occupying nothing but 
 the summit of the hill, and was strictly confined 
 within the walls ; and, indeed, below, on three 
 sides, were such steep ascents — in some places 
 showing precipitous spaces of rude rock, and in 
 others covered with short, green, slippery turf — 
 that it was scarcely possible for the inhabitants 
 to have built beyond the walls, except on one 
 side, even if they had been so inclined. 
 
 In such times of danger, however, it had 
 been the object of those who possessed the town 
 lo keep that fourth side, by which the ascent 
 was more easy, clear from all houses and build- 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 5 
 
 ings of any kind, so that the quarrels from the 
 cross-bow, the arrows from the bow, or the balls 
 from the cannon — as different ages brought 
 different inventions — might sweep down unim- 
 peded upon any approaching enemy, and that the 
 eye might also have a free range to discover the 
 approach of a foe. Thus that gentler slope was 
 not even broken by a road till the end of the 
 sixteenth century, the way up to the town from 
 the valley below being constructed with great 
 skill and care upon one of the steepest sides of 
 the hill, by means of wide short platforms, 
 each of which was defended by some particular 
 fortification of its own, while the whole line of 
 the valley and the lower part of the road were 
 commanded by the cannon of the castle of 
 St. Anne, a rude old fortress on an inferior hill, 
 of little or no use to any persons but those who 
 possessed the higher and more important works 
 above. Through the valley and winding round 
 the foot of the hill of St. Anne was a wide, 
 clear, beautiful stream, navigable up to that 
 spot, and falling into the sea at the distance of 
 ten or twelve miles in a direct line, but which 
 contrived to extend its course, by the tortuous 
 path that it pursued amongst the hills, to a 
 length of nearly twenty leagues. 
 B 3 
 
6 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 Such as we have described was the situation, 
 in feudal times, of the small town that we shall 
 call Morseiul; but ere the commencement of 
 our tale those feudal times had passed away. 
 Even during the wars of the League the town 
 had remained in tranquillity and repose. It was 
 remote from the general scene of strife; and 
 although it had sent out many who aided, and 
 not insignificantly, in upholding the throne of 
 Henry IV., there was but one occasion on v/hich 
 the tide of war flowed near its walls, and then 
 speedily retreated, and left it un assailed. 
 
 Under these circumstances fortifications were 
 soon neglected — precautions were no longer 
 taken — the cannon for half a century remained 
 upon the walls unused — rust and honeycomb 
 began to gnaw into the heart of the iron — 
 sheds were erected in the embrasures — houses 
 succeeded — gardens were laid out in the round 
 towers — the castle of St. Anne fell utterly into 
 ruins — and some of the patriotic and compassion- 
 ate inhabitants thought it a hard tax upon the 
 sinews of the horses, who in those days carried 
 from place to place the merchandise of the 
 country, to be forced to climb the zizgag path 
 of one of the more precipitous sides of the hill. 
 Thus in the early part of the reign of Louis XIII. 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 7 
 
 a petition was addressed by the inhabitants to 
 their count, who still retained all his feuda 1 
 rights and privileges, beseeching him to con- 
 struct or permit the construction of a gate upon 
 the southern side of the town, and a road down 
 the easier descent. 
 
 The count, who was a good-humoured man, 
 a nobleman of the school of Henry IV., an 
 as fond of the people of the good town as they 
 were of him, was quite willing to gratify them 
 in any reasonable desire; but he was the more 
 moved to do what they wished in the present in- 
 stance, inasmuch as some ten or fifteen years 
 before he had himself broken through the old 
 rules and regulations established in the com- 
 mune, and not only built himself a chateau be- 
 yond the walls of that very side, but laid out a 
 space of two or three acres of ground in such a 
 manner as to give him shade when he wanted it, 
 and sunshine when the shade was not agree- 
 able. 
 
 Of the chateau we shall speak hereafter: 
 but it is only here necessary to say, that in 
 building this dwelling beyond the walls, the 
 Count de Morseiul of that day had forgotten 
 altogether the possibility of carrying a road 
 down that side of the liill. He had constructed 
 B 4 
 
8 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 a way for himself into the town by enlarging an 
 old postern in the walls, which he caused to 
 open into his garden, and by this postern, when- 
 ever he sought to issue forth into the country 
 beyond, he took his way into the town, traversed 
 the square, and followed the old zigzag road 
 down the steep side of the hill. The peasantry, 
 indeed, had not failed to think of that which 
 their lord had overlooked, and when they had a 
 dozen or two of pigeons, or a pair of fowls, or 
 a fat calf to present to the seigneur, they almost 
 invariably brought it by the slope up the hill. 
 A path had thus been worn from the valley 
 below in the precise direction which was best 
 fitted for the road, and whenever the good 
 townsmen presented their petition to the count, 
 it instantly struck him how very convenient such 
 a road would be to himself as well as to them. 
 
 Now the count was neither a cunning nor 
 an ungenerous man : and the moment he saw 
 that the advantage to be derived would be 
 to himself, he determined to open the gate, and 
 make the road at his own expense without sub- 
 jecting the commune or the peasantry to corvee 
 or fine. He told the inhabitants so at once, 
 and they, as they well might be, were grateful 
 to him in consequence. He made the road, and 
 
THE HUGUENOT. \) 
 
 a handsome one it was ; and he threw down a 
 part of the wall, and erected a splendid gate in 
 its place. He gave no name, indeed, to either ; 
 but the people immediately and universally be- 
 stowed a name on both, and called them the 
 Count's Gate, and the Count's Road, so that 
 the act was perpetuated by the grateful memory 
 of those whom it benefited. 
 
 As, following the example of the earth on 
 which we live, every thing upon its surface 
 moves forward, or perhaps we may say appears 
 to move forward, while very likely it is going but 
 in a circle, the opening of the gate and the mak - 
 ing of the road was speedily followed by another 
 step, which was the building of houses by the 
 road-side; so that, at the period when our tale 
 commences, the whole aspect, appearance, and 
 construction of the town was altered. A long 
 street, with gardens at the back of the houses, 
 extended all the way down the gentle slope 
 of the hill; the gate had been widened, the 
 summit had been cleared of a great number 
 of small houses, and a view was opened straight 
 up into a fine gay-looking market square at the 
 top, with the ruined wall of the old keep, rais- 
 ing its high head covered with ivy on the western 
 side, and to the north the little church, with its 
 
10 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 tall tliin-slated "pire rising high, not only above 
 the buildings of the town itself, but the whole 
 of the country round, and forming a remarkable 
 object, which was seen for many leagues at sea. 
 
 We are in this account supposing the reader 
 to be looking up the street, which was turned 
 towards the south, and was consequently full 
 of sunshine to^vards the middle of the day. 
 It would, indeed, have been intolerably hot 
 in the summer, had it not been that the blessed 
 irregularity of the houses contrived to give 
 some shade at every hour of the four and twenty. 
 But from the bottom of that street almost 
 up to the top was to be seen, upon the left 
 hand, rising above the buildings of the street 
 itself, tlie weathercocks, and round turrets, and 
 pointed roofs and loop-holes, and windows in- 
 numerable, which marked the chateau built by 
 the count who had constructed the road ; while 
 here and there, too, were also seen the tops of 
 the tall limes and elms with which he had 
 shaded his gardens, and which had now grown up 
 into tall splendid trees, flourishing in the years 
 which had brought him to decay and death. 
 
 Into the little town of Morseiul had been 
 early introduced the doctrines of Calvin, and 
 the inhabitants clung to those doctrines with 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 11 
 
 peculiar pertinacity. They had constantly sent 
 volunteers to the protestant army; they had 
 bestirred themselves in aid of La Rochelle, and 
 had even despatched succour to the protestants of 
 the far south. The weak, bigotted, and treacher- 
 ous Louis XIIL had declared that they were the 
 most obstinate heretics in his dominions, and 
 had threatened against them many things, which 
 the wisdom of his great minister had prevented 
 him from performing. But the counts of Mor- 
 seiul themselves had at all times rendered great 
 services to the state: they had proved them- 
 selves on all occasions gallant and determined 
 soldiers and skilful politicians ; and, though they 
 too held firm by the religion of their ances- 
 tors, and set equally at defiance both threats 
 and seductions — which conduct formed the 
 strongest link between them and their people 
 — Richelieu had judged that it would be 
 hazardous to drive them into open resistance to 
 the crown. We may indeed surmise that he 
 judged it unnecessary also, inasmuch as there 
 can be no doubt that in his dealings with the 
 Huguenots he treated them solely as a poli- 
 tical party, and not as a religious sect. 
 
 Such being the case, though somewhat court- 
 ing the persecutions of the times, the town of 
 
12 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 Morseiul had been left unmolested in the exer- 
 cise of its religious tenets, and had enjoyed not 
 only all the liberty which was granted to the pro- 
 testants of France by the edict of Nantes, but 
 various other privileges, obtained perhaps by a 
 little encroachment, and retained by right of 
 prescription. 
 
 The inhabitants were a hardy and deter- 
 mined race, frank and good-humoured, and 
 possessing from various points in their position 
 a great degree of simplicity in manners and 
 character, mingled with much religious fervour. 
 They had, indeed, of late years, been somewhat 
 polished, or perhaps one might call it, corrupted. 
 They had acquired more wants and more wishes 
 from the increasing luxuriousness of the day; 
 had heard with wonder, and not perhaps with- 
 out some longing, of the splendours and the 
 marvels and the gaieties of the court of Louis 
 XIV., then in the bright and butterfly days of 
 its youthful ostentation ; and they felt strongly 
 and beneficially the general impulse given to 
 every sort of commerce by the genius of Colbert, 
 and applied themselves to derive the utmost 
 advantage therefrom, by pursuing with skill, ac- 
 tivity, and perseverance, various manufactures, 
 in which they displayed no small ingenuity. A 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 13 
 
 good number of them had become wealthy, and 
 all of them indeed were well off in the station 
 of life in which they were placed. The artisan 
 was rich for an artisan, as well as the burgess 
 for a burgess ; but they were all simple in their 
 habits, not without their little pride, or without 
 their luxuries on a holyday ; but frugal and 
 thoughtful as they were industrious. Such was 
 the town of Morseiul and its inhabitants in the 
 year 16S — . 
 
 We must now turn to the chateau of the 
 count, and to its denizens at the time of the 
 opening of our tale. The chateau was built, 
 as we have said, on the outside of the walls of 
 the town, and was one of those odd buildings 
 of which many a specimen has come down to us. 
 It seemed to have been built by detached im- 
 pulses, and upon no general plan, though, to ad- 
 mit nothing but the truth, the construction was 
 attributable all to one person. The great hall 
 was a long, wide-spreading piece of architecture, 
 with a high roof, and a row of windows turned 
 to the south side, which was the front of the 
 chateau. Then came two or three square masses 
 of stone-work on either side of the hall, with the 
 gables projecting to the front, no two of them 
 of the same height and size ; and many of them 
 
14 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 separated either by a tall round tower, with loop- 
 holes all the way up, like button-holes in the 
 front of a waistcoat, or broken towards the roof 
 by a turret stuck on and projecthig from the rest 
 of the building. On the western side of the cha- 
 teau was a large square tower, with numerous 
 windows, placed with some degreee of regula- 
 rity; and on the eastern, was an octangular 
 tower containing a separate entrance of a some- 
 what Gothic character. Two large wings pro- 
 jected behind towards the town on which the 
 chateau unceremoniously turned its back, and 
 the large open space of ground thus enclosed, 
 was again divided into two by a heavy transverse 
 mass of building, as irregular as the external 
 parts of the whole. The mansion was completed 
 by the stables and offices for the servants and 
 retainers, and the whole v/as pitched in the 
 centre of a platform, which had formerly been 
 one of the bastions of the town. 
 
 Behind the chateau, and between the build- 
 ing and the vv'alls, were numerous trees, giving 
 that space the name of the bocage, and through 
 this lay the litde walk that led to the postern, 
 which was originally the only exit from the 
 chateau. In front v/as a tolerably wide es- 
 planade, extending to the edge of the bastion, 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 15 
 
 and from the edge of the terrace descended a 
 flight of steps to the slope below, on which had 
 been laid out a flower-garden, separated from 
 the rest of the ground by a stone wall, sur- 
 mounted by flower-pots in the shape of vases. 
 The remaining portion of the space enclosed 
 was planted, according to the taste of that clay, 
 with straight rows of trees, on the beauties of 
 v/hich it is unnecessary to chvell. 
 
 The interior of the castle was fitted up in the 
 taste of the reign of Henry IV. and Louis XIII., 
 few changes having taken place since the time it 
 •was first furnished, immediately after it was 
 built. Some of the rooms, indeed, contained the 
 furniture of the older castle formerly inhabited 
 by the counts, which furniture was of a much 
 more remote age, and had been condemned, by 
 scornful posterity, to the dusty oblivion which we 
 so fondly pile upon our ancestors. It may be as 
 w^ell, hov/ever, to conduct the reader into one of 
 the rooms of that chateau, and, telling him that 
 we have ourselves sat therein, furnished exactly 
 as it was then furnished, and looking exactly as 
 it then looked, endeavour to make him see it as 
 the glass of memory now gives it back to us. 
 
 It v^'as a large oblong room, with a vaulted roof: 
 not dome-shaped, indeed, for it was flat at the 
 
16 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 top ; but from the walls, towards the centre, it 
 sloped for a considerable way before it received 
 the flattened form which we mention. It was 
 indeed a four-sided vault, with the top of the 
 arches cut off. On two sides were windows, or 
 perhaps we should call them casements, with 
 the glass set in leaden frames, and opening 
 only in part. The hearth and chimney were of 
 enormous dimensions, with a seat on either side 
 of the fire-place, which was a sort of raised 
 platform of brick-work, ornamented with two 
 large andirons grinning with lions' heads, for 
 the reception of the fuel. 
 
 Over the chimney again was a wide slab of 
 marble, supported by two marble scrolls ; and a 
 tablet, on which was recorded, with very tole- 
 rable latinity, that that chateau had been built by 
 Francis Count of Morseiul, in the year of grace 
 one thousand five hundred and ninety. Above 
 this marble, far blacker than the dark oak panel- 
 ling which supported it, hung an immense ebony 
 frame, carved with a thousand curious figures, 
 and containing a large round mirror of polished 
 metal, reflecting, though in a different size, all 
 the objects that the room contained. On the 
 two sides of the chamber were one or two fine 
 portraits by Rubens and Vandyke, also in ebony 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 17 
 
 frames, but cursed with an internal border of 
 gold. A multitude of high-backed chairs, only 
 fitted for men in armour, and ladles with whale- 
 bone bodices ; four cabinets of ebony, chequered 
 with small lines of inlaid ivory, with immense 
 locks, marked out by heavy, but not inelegant, 
 silver shields ; and two or three round tables, 
 much too small for the size of the room, made 
 up the rest of the furniture of the apartment, 
 if we except some curious specimens of porce- 
 lain, and one or two curiosities brought by 
 different members of the family from foreign 
 lands. There was also a lute upon one of the 
 tables, and ten long glasses, with a vein of gold 
 in their taper stalks, ranged in battle array 
 upon the mantelpiece. 
 
 The moment at which we shall begin our 
 tale was about the hour of dinner in the pro- 
 vince, at that period a very different liour from 
 that at which we dine in the present day. The 
 windows were all open, the bright sunshine was 
 pouring in and throwing the small square panes 
 into lozenges upon the flooring ; and from that 
 room, which was high up in the castle, might 
 be seen as wide spread and beautiful a landscape 
 as ever the eye rested upon, a world of verdure, 
 
 VOL. I. C 
 
18 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 Streams, and woods, and hills, with the bright 
 sky above. 
 
 Such was the chamber and its aspect at the 
 period that we speak of; and we must now turn 
 to those who inhabited it, and, in the first place, 
 must depict them to the reader's eye, before we 
 enter into any remarks or detailed account of 
 their several characters, which, perhaps, we may 
 be inclined to give in this instance, even while 
 we admit that in general it is far better to suffer 
 our personages to develope themselves and tell 
 their own tale to the reader. 
 
 In all, there were some seven persons in that 
 room; but there were only two upon whom 
 we shall at present pause. They were seated at 
 a table in the midst, on which were spread forth 
 various viands in abundance, upon plates of 
 silver of a rich and handsome form; while a pro- 
 fusion of the same metal in the shape of cups, 
 forks, spoons, and lavers appeared upon another 
 table near, which had been converted into a tem- 
 porary sort of bufiPet. Ranged on the same 
 buffet was also a multitude of green glass 
 bottles, containing apparendy, by their dusty 
 aspect and well-worn corks, several kinds of old 
 and choice wine ; and five servants in plain but 
 rich liveries, according to the fashion of that day. 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 19 
 
 bustled about to serve the two superior persons 
 at the table. 
 
 Those two persons were apparently very 
 nearly of the same age, about the same height ; 
 and in corporeal powers they seemed also evenly 
 matched ; but in every other respect they were 
 as different as can well be conceived. The 
 one who sat at the side of the table farthest 
 from the door was a man of about six or seven 
 and twenty years of age, with a dark brown 
 complexion, clear and healthy though not florid, 
 and with large, full, deep-coloured gray eyes, 
 fringed with long black lashes. His hair and 
 mustaches were jet black; and the character 
 of his countenance, for the moment at least, 
 was serious and thoughtful. He was evidently 
 a very powerful and vigorous man, deep-chested, 
 long in the arm ; and though, at first look, his 
 form seemed somewhat spare, yet every motion 
 displa3'ed the swelling of strong muscles called 
 into action ; and few there were in that day 
 who could have stood unmoved a buffet from 
 his hand. Such was Albert Count of Morseiul, 
 an officer so distinguished during the first wars 
 of Louis XIV., that it is only necessary to name 
 him to bring to the reader's recollection a long 
 train of splendid actions. 
 c 2 
 
20 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 Opposite to him sat a friend and comrade, who 
 had gone through many a campaign with him, 
 who had shared watchings, and dangers, and 
 toils, had stood side by side with him in the " im- 
 minent deadly breach," and who was very much 
 beloved by the Count, although the other often 
 contrived to tease and annoy him, and some- 
 times to give him pain, by a certain idle and 
 careless levity which had arisen amongst the 
 young nobles of France some twenty years be- 
 fore, and had not yet been put out by that 
 great extinguisher, the courtly form and cere- 
 mony which Louis XIV. placed upon every 
 movement of the imagination. 
 
 The friend was, as we have said, very dif- 
 ferent from his host. Although not more than 
 a year younger than the count, he had a less 
 manly look, which might perhaps be owing 
 to the difference of colouring ; for he was of that 
 fair complexion which the pictures of Vandyk 
 have shown us can be combined with great 
 vigour and character of expression. His fea- 
 tures were marked and fine, his hazel eye 
 piercing and quick, and his well-cut lip, varying 
 indeed with every changing feeling or mo- 
 mentary emotion, still gave, by the peculiar 
 bend in which it was fashioned when in repose. 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 21 
 
 a peculiar tone of scornful playfulness to every 
 expression his countenance assumed. In form, 
 he appeared at first sight more powerful, per- 
 haps, than the count; but a second glance was 
 sufficient to show that such was not the case ; 
 and, though there was indeed little difference, if 
 any thing, it was not in his favour. 
 
 We must pause for an instant to notice the 
 dress of the two friends ; not indeed to describe 
 pourpoints or paint rich lace, but speak of their 
 garments, as the taste thereof might be supposed 
 to betoken some points in the character of each. 
 The dress of the Count de Morseiul was in 
 taste of the day ; which was certainly as bad a 
 taste, as far as it aifected the habiliments of the 
 male part of the human race, as could be de- 
 vised ; but he had contrived, by the exercise of 
 his own judgment in the colouring, to deprive 
 it of a part of its frightfulness. The hues were 
 all deep-toned, but rich and harmonious; and 
 though there was no want of fine lace, the 
 ribands, which were then the reigning mode 
 of the day, were reduced to as few in number 
 as any Parisian tailor would consent to withhold 
 from the garb of a high nobleman. 
 
 His friend, however, the Chevalier d'Evran, 
 having opinions of his own to which he adhered 
 c 3 
 
22 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 with a wilful pertinacity, did not fully give in 
 to the fashion of the times ; and retained, as far 
 as possible, without making himself a spectacle, 
 the costume of an earlier period. If we may 
 coin a word for the occasion, there was a good 
 deal of Vandykism still about it. All the colours, 
 too, were light and sunshiny; philomot and blue, 
 and pink and gold ; and jewels were notwanting, 
 nor rich lace where they could be worn with 
 taste ; for though the liking was for splendour, 
 and for a shining and glittering appearance, yet 
 in all the arrangements there was a fine taste 
 visibly predominant. 
 
 Such, then, was the general appearance of 
 the two friends ; and after partaking of the good 
 things which both the table and the buffet dis 
 played, — for during the meal itself the con- 
 versation was brief and limited to a few questions 
 and answers, — the Chevalier turned his chair 
 somewhat more towards the window, and gazing 
 out over the prospect which was spread forth 
 before his eyes, he said, — 
 
 " And so, Albert, this is Morseiul ; and here 
 thou art again after an absence of six years !" 
 
 " Even so, Louis," replied the Count, " even 
 so. This is Morseiul ; and I know not whether 
 it be from that inherent love of the place in 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 23 
 
 which some of our happiest days have been spent, 
 or whether the country round us be in reality 
 more lovely than any other that I have seen 
 since I left it, yet just when you spoke I was 
 thinking of asking you whether you were or were 
 not satisfied with my boasted Morseiul." 
 
 " It may well be lovelier than any you have 
 seen since you left it," replied the Chevalier ; 
 " for, as far as I know aught of your history, 
 and I think I could account for every day of 
 your life since last you were here, you have 
 seen nothing since but the flat prettiness of the 
 Beauvoisis, the green spinage plate of the 
 Cambresis. or the interminable flats of Flan- 
 ders, where plains are varied by canals, and the 
 only eminence to be seen for forty miles round 
 one is the top of a windmill. Well may Mor- 
 seiul be prettier than that, and no great com- 
 pliment to Morseiul either ; but I will tell you 
 something more, Albert. I have seen Morseiul 
 long ago. Ay, and sat in these halls, and drank 
 of that wine, and looked out of that window, 
 and thought then as I think now, that it is, 
 indeed, as fair a land as ever I should wish to 
 cast my eyes on." 
 
 " Indeed, Louis !" exclaimed his companion; 
 " how happens it, then, if you know the place 
 c 4 
 
24 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 SO well, that you have listened to all my praises 
 thereof, and come hither with me purposely to 
 see it, without giving me one hint that you 
 knew of the existence of such a place upon the 
 surface of the globe ?" 
 
 " Why it has happened from two causes,*' 
 replied the Chevalier, " and perhaps from three. 
 In the first place, did you never discover that I 
 have the gift of secrecy in a very high degree?" 
 
 " Why I have certainly discovered," replied 
 the Count with a smile, " that you are fond of 
 a mystery ; and sometimes, Louis, when there *s 
 no great need of one." 
 
 " Most cuttingly and ungenerously answer- 
 ed," replied the Chevalier, with a laugh; "but 
 granting the fact, as a man does when he de- 
 nies it strenuously in his mind all the time 
 — but granting the fact, was not that one 
 good and sufficient cause for my not saying a 
 word about it ? And in the next place, Albert, 
 if I had told you I had been here, and knew it 
 very nearly as well as you do yourself, it would 
 have deprived you of the whole pleasure of re- 
 lating the wonders and the marvels of Morseiul, 
 which would have been most ungenerous of 
 me, seeing and knowing the delight you took 
 therein; and perhaps there might be another 
 
THE HUGUENOT. ^20 
 
 cause," he added in a graver tone. " Perhaps 
 I might hesitate to talk to you, Albert, — to 
 you, with whom filial affection is not the eva- 
 nescent thing that weeps like an April shower 
 for half an hour over the loss of those we love, 
 and then is wafted away in sparkling and in 
 light — I might have hesitated, I say, to speak 
 with you of times when one whom you have 
 loved and lost sat in these halls and commanded 
 in these lands." 
 
 " I thank you, Louis," replied the Count ; 
 " I thank you from my heart ; but you might 
 have spoken of him. My memory of my dead 
 father is something different from such things 
 in general. It is the memory of him, Louis, 
 and not of my own loss; and, therefore, as 
 every thought of him is pleasing, satisfying, 
 ennobling to my heart : as I can call up every 
 circumstance in which I have seen him placed, 
 every word which I have heard him speak, 
 every action which I have seen him perform, 
 with pride, and pleasure, and advantage, I love 
 to let my thoughts rest upon the memories of 
 his life ; and though I can behold him no more 
 living, yet I may thus enable myself to dwell 
 with him in the past. We may be sure, Louis, 
 that those who try to banish the loved and the 
 
26 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 departed from their thoughts, and from their 
 conversation, have more selfishness in their 
 love, have more selfishness in their sorrow, than 
 real affection or than real esteem. The pangs 
 which draw tears from us over the tomb may 
 be permitted to us as a weakness, not unenvi- 
 able : a lapse of sorrow for the broken tie and 
 the loss of immediate communion, is also but a 
 just tribute to ourselves and to the gone. But 
 those who really loved the dead, and justly 
 loved them, will cherish memory for their sakes ; 
 while those whose love was weak, or not founded 
 on esteem, or selfish, may well give up a time 
 to hopeless sorrow, and then banish the painful 
 memory from their mind for ever: but it shows 
 either that there must have been something 
 wrong in the affection of the past, or a want of 
 hope in the eternal meeting of tlie future. No, 
 no, Louis, I live with my dead father every 
 hour ; I call to mind his looks, his words, his 
 gestures ; and as I never think to meet a man 
 who could speak one evil word of him, I never 
 fear to hear him mentioned, and to dwell upon 
 his name." 
 
 The Chevalier was silent for a moment, for 
 the feelings of his companion were too hallowed 
 for a jest; but he replied immediately after, 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 27 
 
 " I believe YOU are quite right, Albert; but to 
 banish all serious themes, which you know do 
 not suit me, my love of mystery, which, as you 
 well know, is a part of my nature, was quite 
 sufficient to prevent my mentioning the subject. 
 I wonder I was fool enough to let the whole 
 secret out now. I should only have told you, 
 by rights, just enough to excite your curiosity, 
 in order that I might then disappoint you." 
 
 " As you have gone so far, however," replied 
 the Count with a smile, "you may as well tell 
 the whole story at once, as it must be told, 
 sooner or later, I suppose." 
 
 " On my word, I do not know whether I can 
 make up my mind to such unusual frankness," 
 answered the Chevalier : " I have already done 
 quite enough to lose my reputation. However, 
 as you seem anxious " 
 
 "Not in the least," answered the Count, "lam 
 quite satisfied. I was so before, and am so still, 
 and shall be so if you resolutely maintain your 
 mystery, concluding t»hat you have some good 
 reason for doing so." 
 
 " Oh no," answered the Chevalier, " I never 
 had a good reason for any thing I did in my life: 
 I make a point of never having one ; and the 
 very insinuation of such a thing will make me 
 
28 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 unravel the whole matter at once, and show you 
 that there is no mystery at all in the matter. 
 You may have heard, perchance, that the Due de 
 Rouvre, who, by the way, is just appointed gover- 
 nor of the province, has a certain property with 
 a certain chateau, called Ruffigny, which " 
 
 *' Which marches with my own," exclaimed 
 the Count. 
 
 "Exactly what I was going to say," rejoined 
 the Chevalier; " a certain property, called Ruf- 
 figny, which marches with your own, and a cha- 
 teau thereupon some five leagues hence. Now, 
 the excellent Dake, being an old friend, and dis- 
 tant relation indeed, of my family, it is scarcely 
 possible, with common decency, for me to be more 
 than ten years at a time without visiting him ; 
 and accordingly, about ten years ago, I being 
 then a sprightly youth, shortly about to fit on 
 my first arms, came down and spent the space 
 of about a month in that very chateau of Ruf- 
 figny, and the Duke brought me over here to 
 dine with your father, and hunt the wild boar 
 in the woods behind St. Anne." 
 
 " It is very odd," said the Count, " I have 
 no recollection of it." 
 
 " How should you ? " demanded his friend, 
 " as you were then gone upon your first cam- 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 29 
 
 paigiij under Duras, upon the Rhine. It was 
 not, in all probability, worth your father's while 
 to write you word that a young scapegrace had 
 been brought to dine with him, and had run 
 his couteau de chasse up to the hilt in the boar's 
 gullet." 
 
 " Oh, I now remember," exclaimed the Count; 
 " I heard of that, but I forgot the name. Have 
 you not been here since then ? " 
 
 " Not I," replied the Chevalier. " The Duke 
 asked me, indeed, to return the following year ; 
 but something prevented him from returning 
 himself, and I believe he has never come back to 
 Ruffigny since. A man who has so many castles 
 as he has cannot favour any one of them above 
 once in six or seven years or so." 
 
 " He is coming down now, however," replied 
 the Count ; " for, of course, the affairs of his 
 government must bring him here, if it be but to 
 hold the states." 
 
 " Ay, but he does not come to Ruffigny," 
 replied the Chevalier. " He goes to Poitiers. I 
 know all about his movements ; and I'll tell you 
 what, Morseiul : take care how you go to visit 
 him at Poitiers, for you might chance not to 
 come back unscathed." 
 
 " How so ? " demanded the Count, turning 
 
30 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 sharply as if with some surprise. " Is there 
 any thing new against us poor Huguenots?" 
 
 " Poo, I spoke not of that," replied the Che- 
 valier. " You sectarians seem to have a sort of 
 hereditary feeling of martyrdom in you, as if 
 your chief ancestor had been St. Bartholomew 
 himself, and the saint, being skinned alive, had 
 given the world a skinless posterity, which 
 makes them all feel alarmed lest any one should 
 touch them." 
 
 " It is an ominous name, St. Bartholomew, 
 you must acknowledge to the ears of a Hugue- 
 not," .replied the Count. " But what is it I 
 have to fear, if not that, Louis?" 
 
 " What is it you have to fear ! " rejoined the 
 Chevalier. " Why, a pair of the brightest eyes 
 in all France — I believe I might say in all 
 Europe." 
 
 The Count shook his head with a smile. 
 
 " Well then," continued the Chevalier, " a 
 pair of lips that look like twin roses ; eyebrows 
 that give a meaning to every lustrous look of 
 the eyes ; a hand small, white, and delicate, with 
 fingers tapering and rounded like those with 
 which the Venus of the Greeks gathers around 
 her timid form the unwilling drapery; a foot 
 such as no sandle-sliod goddess of the golden 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 31 
 
 age could match; and a form which would have 
 left the sculptor nothing to seek in other beau- 
 ties but herself." 
 
 The Count laughed aloud. " I am quite 
 safe," he said, " quite safe, Louis, quite safe. 
 I have nothing on earth to fear." 
 
 " Indeed ! " exclaimed his companion, in the 
 same gay tone. " Pray, what panoply of proof 
 do you possess sufficient to resist such arms as 
 these when brought against you ? " 
 
 " Mine is twofold," answered the Count. 
 " In the first place, your own enthusiasim can- 
 not be misunderstood, and, of course, I do not 
 become the rival of my friend. Our great hero, 
 Conde, has set all soldiers a better example." 
 
 '' What then, do you intend to follow his 
 example in regard to the Chatillon ? " de- 
 manded the Chevalier ; " to yield me the lady, 
 and as soon as I am comfortably killed off, 
 make love to my widow ? But no, no, Albert, I 
 stand not in your way ; there are other attrac- 
 tions for me, I tell you fairly ! Even if it were 
 not so, let every man in love, as in war, do the 
 best for himself. But, at all events, I tell you 
 take care of yourself if you go to Poitiers, un- 
 less, indeed, you have some better armour than 
 the thought of rivahy vvith me." 
 
32 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 " I must go to Poitiers of course," replied 
 the Count, " when the governor comes down ; 
 but 3^et I shall go without fear, as I think you 
 might by this time know. Have you not seen 
 me amongst the fairest, and the gayest, and the 
 sweetest of this world's daughters, and yet I do 
 not tliink in all the catalogue you could find 
 one cabalistic name sufficiently powerful to con- 
 jure up a sigh from my lips." 
 
 " Why, to say the truth," replied the Cheva- 
 lier, " I have often thought you as cold as a 
 cannon ball before it is fired; but then, my 
 dear Count, all that time you have had some- 
 thing else to do, something to excite, to interest, 
 and to engross you. But now the stir and bustle 
 of the camp is over, — the march, the counter- 
 march, the advance, the retreat is done, — the 
 fierce excitement of the battle-field does not 
 bring forth all the energies of a fiery heart, — 
 the trumpet no longer calls you from the ear of 
 the fair one, before the whispered tale of love 
 be well begun. In this piping time of peace, 
 why, man, you have nothing for it but to make 
 love, or die of melancholy. If you have a 
 charm, let us hear what it is ! " 
 
 " Oh, I am no man of mysteries," replied the 
 Count, ^' and my tale is very soon told. It is 
 
THE HUGUEXOT. 83 
 
 just five years ago — I was at that time in the 
 heyday of all sorts of passions, in love, I be- 
 lieve, with every thing in woman's form that 
 came in my way, — when, after spending the 
 winter in Paris, I came down here to take leave 
 of my father before joining the army in Flanders. 
 It seemed as if he felt tliat we were parting for 
 the last time, for he gave me many a caution, 
 and many a warning regarding the woman that 
 I might choose for my wife. He exacted no 
 promise indeed, nor gave his counsels the shape 
 of a command; but, amongst other injunctions, 
 which I would most unwillingly violate, he 
 strongly advised me never to wed any one of 
 a different religious creed from myself. About 
 the same time, however, a little incident oc- 
 curred, which fancy worked up so strongly as to 
 have had an effect upon my whole after feelings. 
 You know the deep and bowery lanes and 
 roads about the place, how beautifully the 
 sunshine streams amongst them, how richly the 
 sonfj of the birds sound in the trees above, 
 how full of a sparkling and fanciful light is the 
 whole scenery round us when we dive into its 
 depths. I was always fond of wandering through 
 these scenes, and one day about that time I v/as 
 out alone, at some distance beyond the castle 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
34 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 of St. Anne's, when suddenly, as I was musing, 
 and gazing, and drinking in, as it were, the 
 sights and sounds around me, I heard the cry of 
 dogs, and the sound of horns. But they were 
 distant, and they passed away, and I went on 
 "Wandering slowly, with my horse's bridle hang- 
 ing loosely over my arm, till suddenly I heard 
 the sound of galloping hoofs; and, immediately 
 after, down the little road in which I was, came 
 a gay wild horse of the Limousin, with a fair 
 girl upon its back, who should hardly have been 
 trusted to ride a fiery creature like that. She 
 was not, indeed, a mere child, being apparently 
 some sixteen or seventeen years of age, but ex- 
 treme youth was in every feature and in every 
 line, and, I might add, beauty also, for never in 
 my life did I behold such visionlike loveliness as 
 hers. The horse, with some sudden fright, 
 must have darted away while she had laid down 
 the rein, for at the time I met her, though not 
 broken, it was floating at his feet, hazarding at 
 every instant to throw him down. She sat 
 firmly in the seat, and rode with grace and 
 ease; but she was evidently much frightened, 
 and as soon as she saw some one before her in 
 the lane, she pointed with an eager gesture to 
 the rein, and uttered some words which I did 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 35 
 
 not hear. I easily divined her meaning liow- 
 ever, and turning my own horse loose, knowing 
 I could catch him again in a moment, I snatched 
 at the rein of her horse as he passed, ran for a 
 moment by its side, not to check it too sharply, 
 then brought it to a halt, and asked her if she 
 would alight. She bowed her head gracefully, 
 and smiled most sweetly, replying, as soon as 
 he could find breath, with many thanks for the 
 service I hrid rendered her, that she was not 
 hurt, and but a little frightened, the horse 
 having darted away while she had laid down the 
 rein to put on her gloves. She would not alight 
 she said, but must return quickly to her friends, 
 who would be frightened, and, without say- 
 ing more, she again gracefully bent her head, 
 turned her horse, and cantered rapidly away. 
 I saw her once afterwards, passing along with a 
 gay cortege, composed of persons that I did not 
 know. As w^e passed each other she recognised 
 me instantly, and, with a heightened colour, 
 noticed me by another marked inclination of 
 the head. When I had passed on, I could judge 
 by her own gestures and those of the persons 
 around her, that she was telling them what had 
 occurred, and explaining to them tlie sign of 
 recognition which she had made. On this second 
 n 2 
 
36 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 occasion she seemed to my eyes even more 
 lovely than before. Her voice, too, though 
 I had heard it so little, was the most musical 
 that ever spoke to the heart of man, and I pon- 
 dered and thought over the vision of loveliness 
 that I had just seen, till it took so strong a hold 
 of my heart and my imagination, that I could 
 not rest satisfied without seekinfj to behold it 
 again. I rode through all the country round ; 
 I was every day, and almost all day, on horse- 
 back ; I called at every neighbouring house ; 
 I inquired at every place where I was likely to 
 meet with information, but I could never see, or 
 speak with, or hear of that fair creature again, 
 and the time came rapidly on when I was com- 
 pelled to rejoin the army. I thought of her 
 often, however, I have thought of her ever since ; 
 that lovely face, that sweet voice will never go 
 from my mind, and reason and fancy combine 
 to make me resolve never to wed any one that I 
 do not think as lovely as herself." 
 
 " Pray what share had reason," demanded 
 the Chevalier, " in a business altogether so 
 unreasonable ? Poo ! my dear Albert, you have 
 worked yourself into a boyish fancy of love, and 
 then have clung to it, I suppose, as the last bit 
 of boyhood left about you. What had reason 
 
THE IIUGL^ENOT. 37 
 
 to do witli your seeing a pretty girl in a dark 
 lane, and fancying there was nothing like her 
 upon earth?" 
 
 " With that, nothing certainly," replied the 
 Count, '' but with my after-determination much. 
 Before that time long I had began to school my- 
 self a good deal on account of a propensity not 
 so much to fall In love, but, as you term It, Louis, 
 to make love to every fair" creature I met with. 
 I had found It needful to put some check upon 
 myself; and If an artificial one was to be chosen, 
 I did not see why this should not be selected as 
 well as any otlier. I determined that, as the 
 knights of old, and our own troubadours too, if 
 you will, and even — as by your laughing I sup- 
 pose you would have it — excellent Don Quixote 
 himself, that pattern of all true gentlemen, vowed 
 and dedicated themselves to some fair lady, 
 whom they had seen even less frequently than I 
 liad her — I determined, I say, that 1 would en- 
 courage this fancy of loving my fair horsewoman, 
 and would employ the Image of beauty, which 
 imagination, perhaps, had its share In framing, 
 and the fine qualities of the mind and heart, 
 wliLch were shadowed out beneath tliat lovely 
 exterior, as a test, a touchstone, whereby to try 
 and to correct my feelings towards others, and to 
 D 3 
 
38 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 approacli none with v/ords of love who did not 
 appear to me as beautiful in form as slie was, and 
 who did not seem at least equal to the standard 
 which fancy had raised up under her image. 
 The matter perhaps was carried farther than I 
 intended, the feeling became more intense than 
 I had expected. For some time I sincerely and 
 truly fancied myself in love ; but even since 
 reason has come to my aid in such a matter, 
 and I know how much imagination has to do 
 with tlie whole, yet from that one circumstance, 
 from that fanciful accident, my standard of per- 
 fection in woman has been raised so high, that 
 I find none who have attained it ; and yet so 
 habitual has it become with me to apply it to 
 every one I see, that whenever I am introduced 
 to any beautiful creature, to whom I might 
 otherwise become attached, the fanciful image 
 rises up, and the new acquaintance is tried and 
 ever is found wanting." 
 
 " Thou art a strange composition, my good 
 friend the Count," said the Chevalier, *' but we 
 shall see, now that peace and tranquillity have 
 fallen over the world, whether you can go on 
 still resisting with the courage of a martyr. I 
 don't believe a word of it, although, to say sooth, 
 your quality of heretic is something in your 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 39 
 
 favour. But, in the name of fortune, tell me 
 ^vhat are all tliose loud and tumultuous sounds 
 Avliich are borne by the wind through the open 
 window. Your good people of Morseiul are 
 not in rebellion, I hope." 
 
 " Not that I know of," replied the Count, 
 with a smile at the very idea of such a thing as 
 rebellion under Louis XIV. ; " but I will call my 
 fellow Riquet, who ought, I think, to have been 
 called Scapin, for I am sure Moliere must have 
 had a presentiment of the approaching birth of 
 such a scoundrel. He will tell us all about it ; 
 for if a thing takes place on the other side of 
 the earth, Riquet knows it all within five 
 minutes after it happens." 
 
 Before he had well finished speaking, the 
 person he alluded to entered. But Riquet de- 
 serves a pause for separate notice. 
 
 D 4 
 
40 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 THE VALET THE TOWNSPEOPLE THE 
 
 PROCLAMATION. 
 
 The personage who entered the room, which 
 on that tlie first actual clay after his arrival at 
 his own dwelling the Count de Morseiul had 
 used as a dining-room, was the representative 
 of an extinct race, combiniisg in his own person 
 all the faults and absurdities with all the talents 
 and even virtues which v/ere sometimes mingled 
 together in that strange composition, the old 
 French valet. It is a creature that we find re- 
 corded in the pages of many an antique play, 
 now either banished altogether from the stage, or 
 very seldom acted ; but, alas ! the being itself is 
 extinct ; and even v/ere we to find a fossil speci- 
 men in some unexplored bed of blue clay, we 
 should gain but a xery inadequate idea of all 
 its various properties and movements. We have 
 still the roguish valet in sad abundance — a sort 
 of common house-rat; and we have, moreover, 
 the sly and the silent, the locpiacious and the 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 41 
 
 lying, the pilfering and the impudent valet, with 
 a thousand other varieties; but the old French 
 valet, that mithridatic compound of many curi- 
 ous essences, is no longer upon the earth, having 
 gone absolutely out of date and being at the 
 same period with his famous contemporary " le 
 Marquis:' 
 
 At the time we speak of, however, the French 
 valet was in full perfection ; and, as we have said, 
 an epitome of the whole race and class was to be 
 found in Maitre Jerome Riquet, who now en- 
 tered the room, and advanced with an operatic 
 step tov/ards his lord. He was a man perhaps 
 of forty years of age, which, as experience and 
 constant practice were absolute requisites in his 
 profession, was a great advantage to him, for he 
 had lost not one particle of the activity of youth, 
 seeming to possess either a power of ubiquity, or 
 a rapidity of locomotion which rendered applica- 
 ble to him the famous description of the bird 
 which flew so fast " as to be in two places at 
 once." Quicksilver, or a lover's hours of happi- 
 ness, a swallow, or the wind, were as nothing 
 when compared to his rapidity ; and it is also 
 to be remarked, that the rapidity of the mind 
 went hand in hand with the rapidity of the 
 body, enabling him to comprehend his master's 
 
42 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 orders before they were spoken, to answer a 
 question before it was asked, and to determine 
 with unerring sagacity by a single glance whe- 
 ther it would be most for his interests or his 
 purposes to understand or misunderstand the 
 coming words before they were pronounced. 
 
 Riquet was slightly made, though by no 
 means fulfilling the immortal caricature of the 
 gates of Calais ; but when dressed in his own ap- 
 propriate costume, he contrived to make himself 
 look more meagre than he really was, perhaps 
 with a view of rendering his person less recog- 
 nisable when, dressed in a suit of his master's 
 clothes with sundry additions and ornaments 
 of his own device, he appeared enlarged with 
 false calves to his legs, and manifold paddings 
 on his breast and shoulders, enacting with great 
 success the part of the Marquis of Kerousac, 
 or of any other place which he chose to raise 
 into the dignity of a marquisate for his own 
 especial use. 
 
 His features, it is true, were so peculiar in 
 their cast and expression, that it would have 
 seemed at first sight utterly impossible for the 
 face of Jerome Riquet to be taken for any other 
 thing upon the earth than the face of Jerome 
 Riquet. The figure thereof was long, and the 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 43 
 
 jaws of the form called lantern, with high cheek 
 bones, and a forehead so covered with protu- 
 berances, that it seemed made on purpose for 
 the demonstration of phrenology. Along this 
 forehead, in almost a straight line drawn from 
 a point immediately between the eyes, at a very 
 acute angle towards the zenith, were a pair of 
 eyebrows, strongly marked throughout their 
 whole course, but decorated by an obtrusive 
 tuft near the nose, from which tuft now stuck 
 out several long grey bristles. The eyes them- 
 selves were sharp, small, and brilliant; but 
 being under the especial protection of the su- 
 perincumbent eyebrows, they followed the same 
 line, leaving a long lean cheek on either side, 
 only relieved by a congregation of radiating 
 wrinkles at the corners of the eyelids. The 
 mouth was as wide as any man could well desire 
 for the ordinary purposes of life, and it was low 
 down too in the face, leaving plenty of room for 
 the nose above, which was as peculiar in its 
 construction as any that ever was brought from 
 " the promontory of noses." It was neither the 
 judaical hook nose, nor the pure aquiline, nor 
 the semi-j udaical Italian, nor the vulture, nor 
 the sheep, nor the horse nose. It had no affinity 
 whatever to the " nez retrousse," nor was it the 
 
44 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 bottle, nor the ace of clubs. It was a nose sui 
 generis, and starting from between the two 
 bushy eyebrows, it made its way out, with a 
 slight parabolic curve downwards, till it ha'l 
 reached about the distance of an inch and a half 
 from the fundamental base line of tlie face. 
 Having attained that elevation, it came to a 
 sharp abrupt point, through the thin skin of 
 which the white gristle seemed inclined to force 
 its way, and then suddenly dropping a perpen- 
 dicnlar, it joined itself on to the lower part of the 
 face, at a right angle with the upper lip, with 
 the extensive territories of wliich it did not in- 
 terfere in the slightest degree, being as it were 
 a thing apart, while the nostrils started up again, 
 running in the same line as the eyes and eye- 
 brows. 
 
 Such in personal appearance was Jerome 
 Riquet, and his mental conformation was not at 
 all less singular. Of this mental conformation 
 we shall have to give some illustrations here- 
 after; but yet, to deal fairly by him, we must 
 afford some sketch of his inner man in juxta- 
 position with his corporeal qualities. In the first 
 place, without the reality of being a coward, he 
 affected cowardice as a very convenient reputa- 
 tion, v/hich might be serviceable on many occa- 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 45 
 
 sions, and could be shaken ofF whenever he 
 thought fit. " A brave man," he said, " has 
 something to keep up, he must never be cow- 
 ardly ; but a poltroon can be a brave man, with- 
 out derogating from a well-earned reputation, 
 whenever he pleases. No, no, I like variety ; 
 I'll be a coward, and a brave man only when it 
 suits me." He sometimes, indeed, nearly be- 
 trayed himself, by burlesquing fear, especially 
 when any raw soldier was near, for he had an 
 invincible inclination to amuse himself with the 
 weaknesses of others, and knew how contagious 
 a disease fear is. 
 
 The next remarkable trait in his character 
 was a mixture of honesty and roguer}'-, which 
 left him many doubts in his own mind as to 
 whether he was by nature a knave or a simple- 
 ton. He would pilfer from his master any 
 thing he could lay his hands upon, if he thought 
 his master did not really want it; but had that 
 master fallen into difficulties or dangers he would 
 have given him his last louis, or laid down his 
 life to save him. He would pick the locks of a 
 cabinet to see what it contained, and inge- 
 niously turn the best folded letter inside out to 
 read the contents ; but no power on earth would 
 ever have made him divulge to others that 
 
46 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 which he practised such unjustifiable means to 
 learn. 
 
 He was also a most determined liar, both 
 by habit and inclination. He preferred it, 
 he said, to truth. It evinced greater powers of 
 the human mind. Telling truth, he said, only 
 required the use of one's tongue and one's me- 
 mory; but to lie, and to lie well, demanded 
 imagination, judgment, courage, and, in short, 
 all the higher qualities of the human intellect. 
 He could sometimes, however, tell the truth, 
 when he saw that it was absolutely necessary. 
 All that he had was a disposition to falsehood, 
 controllable under particular circumstances, but 
 always returning when those circumstances were 
 removed. 
 
 As to the religion of Maitre Jerome Riquet, 
 the less that is said upon the matter the better 
 for the honour of that individual. He had 
 but one sense of religion, indeed, and his de- 
 finition of religion will give that sense its clear- 
 est exposition. In explaining his views one 
 day on the subject to a fellow valet, he was 
 known to declare that religion consisted in ex- 
 pressing those opinions concerning what was 
 within a man's body, and what v/as to become 
 of it after death, which were most likely to be 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 47 
 
 beneficial to that body in the circumstances in 
 which it was placed. Now, to say the truth, in 
 order to act in accordance with this definition, 
 Maitre Jerome had a difficult part to perform. 
 His parents and relations were all Catholics 
 and having been introduced at an early age 
 into the house of a Huguenot nobleman, and 
 attached for man}^ years to the person of his 
 son, with onl}' one other Catholic in the house- 
 hold, it would seem to have been the na- 
 tural course of policy for the valet, under his 
 liberal view of things, to abandon Catholic- 
 ism, and betake himself to the pleasant heresy 
 of his masters. But Riquet had a more exten- 
 sive conception of things than that. He saw 
 and knew that Catholicism was the great pre- 
 dominant religion of the country; he knew 
 that it was the predominant religion of the court 
 also ; and he had a sort of instinctive foresight 
 from the beginning of the persecutions and se- 
 verities — the dark clouds of which were now 
 gathering fast around the Huguenots, and were 
 likely sooner or later to overwhelm them. 
 
 Now, like the famous Erasmus, Jerome Riquet 
 had no will to be made a martyr of; and though 
 he could live very comfortable in a Huguenot 
 family, and attach himself to its lords, he did 
 
48 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 not think it at all necessary to attach himself to 
 its religion also, but, on the contrary, went to 
 mass when he had nothing else to do, confessed 
 what sins he thoiio;ht fit to acknowledge or to 
 invent once every four or five years, swore that 
 he performed all the penances assigned to him, 
 and tormented the Protestant maid-servants of 
 the chateau, by vowing that they were all des- 
 tined to eternal condemnation, that there was 
 not a nook in purgatory hot enough to bake 
 away their sins, and that a place was reserved 
 for them in the bottomless pit itself, with Arians 
 and Socinians, and all the heretics and heresi- 
 archs from the beginning of the world. After 
 having given way to one of these tirades, he 
 would generally burst into a loud fit of laughter 
 at the absurdity of all religious contentions, and 
 run away leaving his fellow-servants with a full 
 conviction that he had no religion at all. 
 
 He dared not, it is true, indulge in such 
 licences tov/ards his master ; but he very well 
 knew that the young Count was not a bigot 
 himself, and would not by any means think 
 that he served him better if he chano:ed his 
 religion. In times of persecution and danger, 
 indeed, the Count might have imagined that 
 there w\as a risk of a very zealous Catholic being 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 49 
 
 induced to injure or betray his Protestant lord; 
 but the Count well knew Jerome to be any thing 
 but a zealous Catholic, and he had not the slight- 
 est fear that any hatred of Protestantism or love 
 for the church of Rome would ever induce the 
 worthy valet to do any thing against the lord 
 to whom he had attached himself. 
 
 Such, then, w^as Jerome Riquet; and we 
 shall pause no longer upon his other character- 
 istic qualities than to say, that he w^as the exem- 
 plification of the word clever; that there was 
 scarcely any thing to w^iich he could not turn 
 his hand, and that though light, and lying and 
 pilfering, and impudent beyond all impudence, 
 he was capable of strong attachments and warm 
 affections ; and if we may use a very colloquial 
 expression to characterise his proceedings, there 
 was fully as much fun as malice in his roguery. 
 A love of adventure and of jest was his predo- 
 minant passion; and although all the good 
 things and consolations of this life by no means 
 came amiss to him, yet in the illegitimate 
 means which he took to acquire them he found 
 a greater pleasure even than in their enjoy- 
 ment when obtained. 
 
 When the door opened, as we have said, and 
 Ptiquet presented himself, the eyes of the Count 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
50 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 de Morseiul fixed upon him at once; and he im- 
 mediately gathered from the ludicrous expres- 
 sion of fear which the valet had contrived to 
 throw into his face, that something of a serious 
 nature had really happened in the town, though 
 he doubted not that it was by no means suf- 
 ficient to cause the astonishment and terror 
 which Jerome affected. Before he could ask 
 any questions, however, Jerome, advancing with 
 the step of a ballet master, cast himself on one 
 knee at the Count's feet, exclaiming, — 
 
 " My lord, I come to you for protection and 
 for safety." 
 
 " Why, what is the matter, Jerome?" ex- 
 claimed the Count. " What rogue's trick have 
 you been playing now ? Is it a cudgel or the 
 gallows that you fear?" 
 
 " Neither, my good lord," replied Jerome, 
 " but it is the fagot and the stake. I fear the 
 rage of your excited and insubordinate people 
 in the town of Morseiul, who are now in a state 
 of heretical insurrection, tearing down the 
 king's proclamations, trampling his edicts under 
 foot, and insulting his officers; and as I happen, 
 I believe, to be the only Catholic in the place, 
 I run the risk of being one of the first to be 
 sacrificed, if their insane vehemence leads them 
 into further acts of phrenzy." 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 51 
 
 " Get up, fool, get up," cried the Count, 
 shaking him off as he clung to his knee: " tell 
 me, if you can speak truth and common sense, 
 what is it you mean, and what has occasioned 
 all these shouts that we heard just now?" 
 
 " I mean, my lord," said Riquet, starting up 
 and putting himself in an attitude, '' I mean all 
 that I say. There is some proclamation," he 
 continued in a more natural tone, " concerning 
 the performance of the true Catholic and apos- 
 tolic religion, which some of the king's officers 
 posted up on the gate at the bottom of the 
 Count's street, and which the people instantly 
 tore down. The huissier and the rest were 
 proceeding up the street to read the edict in 
 the great square, amidst the shouts and impi-e- 
 cations of the vulgar ; but I saw them gathering 
 together stones, and bringing out cudgels, 
 which showed me that harder arguments were 
 about to be used than words ; and as there is 
 no knowing where such matters may- end, I 
 made haste to take care of my own poor inno- 
 cent skin, and lay myself at your feet, humbly 
 craving your protection." 
 
 " Then, get out of my way," said the Count, 
 putting him on one side, and moving towards 
 the door. " Louis, we must go and see after 
 E 2 
 
52 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 this. Tins is some new attack upon us poor 
 Huguenots — some other Jesuitical infraction 
 of the privileges assured to us by our good King 
 Henry IV. We must quiet the people, how- 
 ever, and see what the ofiFence is; — though, God 
 help us," he added with a sigh, " since the 
 parliaments have succumbed there is no legal 
 means left us of obtaining redress. Some day or 
 another these bad advisers of our noble and 
 magnificent monarch will drive the Protestant 
 part of his people into madness, or compel them 
 to raise the standard of revolt against him, or to 
 fly to other lands, and seek the exercise of their 
 religion unoppressed." 
 
 " Hush, hush, hush, Morseiul," said his com- 
 panion, laying his hand kindly on his arm, 
 " your words are hasty. You do not know how 
 small a matter constitutes treason now-a-days, 
 or how easy is the passage to the Bastille." 
 
 " Oh ! I know — I know quite well," replied 
 the Count ; '* and that many a faidiful and loyal 
 subject, vv'ho has served his king and country 
 well, has found his way there before me. I love 
 and admire my king. I will serve him with my 
 whole soul and the last drop of my blood, and 
 all I claim in return is that liberty of my own 
 free thoughts which no man can take from me. 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 53 
 
 Chains cannot bind that down ; bastilles cannot 
 shut it in ; and every attempt to crash it is but 
 an effort of tyranny both impotent and cruel. 
 However, we must calm the people. Wliere is 
 my hat, knave ?" 
 
 " I have oftc wished, my dear I'Uorseiiil," 
 said the Chevalier, as they followed the valet, 
 who ran on to get the Count's hat : " I have ofteix 
 wished that you would give yourself a little time 
 to think and to examine. I am very sure th.at 
 if you did you would follow the example of 
 the greatest man of modern times, abjure yoar 
 religious errors, and gain the high station and 
 renown which you so well deserve." 
 
 " What, do you mean Turenne r" exclaimed 
 the Count. " Never, Louis, never ! I grant him, 
 Louis, to have been one of the greatest men of 
 ^his, or perhaps of any other age, mighty as a 
 warrior, just, clearsighted, kind-hearted, and 
 comprehensive as a politician, and perhaps as 
 great in the noble and honest simplicity of his 
 nature as in any other point of view.' I grant 
 him all and every thing tliat you could say in 
 his favour. I arrant everv thino- that his most 
 enthusiastic admirers can assert; but God forbid 
 that ice slioidd ever imitate the iceahiess of a 
 great man's life. Xo, no, Clicvalier, it is one of 
 E 3 
 
54 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 the most perverted uses of example to justify 
 wrong because the good have been tem>pted to 
 commit it. No man's example, no man's opi- 
 nion to me is worth any thing, however good or 
 however wise he may be, if there be stamped 
 upon its face the broad and unequivocal marks 
 of wrong." 
 
 By this time they had reached the vestibule 
 from which a little flight of steps conducted into 
 the garden, and Maitre Jerome stood there with 
 his lord's hat and polished cane in his hand. 
 The Count took them with a quick gesture and 
 passed on, followed by his friend, who raised his 
 eyebrows a little with a look of regret, as his 
 only answer to the last words. These words 
 had been heard by the valet also, and the raising 
 of the eyebrows was not unmarked; and Maitre 
 Jerome, understanding the whole train of the* 
 argument, as well as if he had heard every 
 syllable, commented upon what he considered 
 his lord's imbecility by a shrug of the shoulders, 
 in which his head almost utterly disappeared. 
 
 In the mean time the young Count and his 
 friend passed up the little avenue to the postern 
 gate, opened it, and entered the town of Mor- 
 seiul; and then, by a short and narrow street, 
 which was at that moment all in shadow, entered 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 55 
 
 the market square, at which they arrived, by the 
 shorter path they pursued, long before the officers 
 who were about to read the proclamation. A 
 great number of persons were collected in the 
 square, and it was evident that by this time the 
 whole place was in a state of great excitement. 
 The Chevalier was in some fear for the effect 
 of the coming scene upon his friend ; and, as 
 they entered the market place, he stopped him, 
 laying his hand upon his arm, and saying, — 
 
 " Morseiul, 3'ou are a good deal heated, pause 
 for one moment and think of w^iat you are 
 about. For the sake of yourself and of your 
 country, if not for mine; neither say nor do any 
 thing rashly." 
 
 The Count turned towards him with a calm 
 and gentle smile, and grasped his hand. 
 
 " Thank you, Louis," he said, " thank you, 
 though your caution, believe me, is unnecessary. 
 You will see that I act as calmly and as reason- 
 ably, that I speak as quietly and as peacefully as 
 the most earnest Catholic could desire. Heaven 
 forbid," he added, " that I should say one word, 
 or make one allusion to any thing that could 
 farther excite the passions of the people than 
 they are likely to be excited already. Civil 
 strife, Louis, is the most awful of all things so 
 E 4 
 
56 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 long as it lasts, and seldom, very seldom if ever 
 obtains the end for which it first commenced. 
 But even if I did not think so," he added in a 
 lower voice, " I know that the Protestants of 
 France have no power to struggle with the force 
 of the crown, unless — " and his voice fell almost 
 to a whisper, " unless the crown force upon 
 them the energetic vigour of despair." 
 
 The two had paused while they thus spoke, 
 and while they heard the murmuring sounds of 
 the people coming up the hill from the right 
 hand, the noise of several persons running could 
 be distinguished on the other side, and turning 
 round towards the postern, the Count saw that, 
 thanks to the care and foresight of Maitre 
 Jerome, a great number of his domestics and 
 attendants were coming up at full speed to join 
 him, so that when he again advanced, he was 
 accompanied by ten or twelve persons ready to 
 obey without hesitation or difficulty the slightest 
 command that he should give. As there was no 
 telling the turn which events might take, he was 
 not sorry that it should be so ; and as he now 
 advanced towards the centre of the square the siglit 
 of his liveries instantly attracted the attention of 
 the people, and he was recognised with joyful 
 exclamations of " Tlie Count ! The Count !" 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 57 
 
 Gladness was in every face at his approach, 
 for the minds of the populace were in that state 
 of anxious hesitation, in which the presence and 
 direction of any one to whom they are accustom- 
 ed to look up is an absolute blessing. Taking 
 off his hat and bowing repeatedly to every one 
 around him, speaking to many, and recognising 
 every one with whom he was personally acquaint- 
 ed with a frank and good-humoured smile, the 
 Count advanced through the people, v»'ho gather- 
 ed upon his path as he proceeded, till he reached 
 the top of the hill, and obtained a clear view 
 of what was passing below. 
 
 Had not one known the painful and angry 
 feelings which were then excited, it would have 
 been a pleasant and a cheerful scene. The sun 
 had by this time got sufficiently round to the 
 westward to throw long shadows from the irre- 
 gular gable-ended houses more than half v/ay 
 across the wide open road that conducted from 
 the valley to the top of the hill. The perspec- 
 tive, too, was strongly marked by the lines of 
 the buildings ; the other side of the road was in 
 bright light; there was a beautiful prospect of 
 hill and dale seen out beyond the town ; nu- 
 merous booths and stalls, kept by peasant 
 women with bright dresses and snowy caps. 
 
68 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 chequered the whole extent ; and up the centre 
 of the street, approaching slowly, were the 
 officers of the district, with a small party of 
 military, followed on either side by a much more 
 considerable number of the lower order of 
 town's people and peasantry. 
 
 Such was the scene upon which the eyes of 
 the Count de Morseiul fell ; and it must be. ad- 
 mitted, that when he saw the military his heart 
 beat with considerable feelings of indignation, 
 for we must remember that in towns like that 
 which was under his rule the feudal cus- 
 toms still existed to a very great extent. It 
 was still called his town of Morseiul. The 
 king, indeed, ruled ; the laws of the land were 
 administered in the king's name ; but the cus- 
 tody, defence, and government of the town of 
 Morseiul was absolutely in the hands of the 
 Count, or of the persons to whom he delegated 
 his power during his absence. It was regularly, 
 in fact, garrisoned in his name; and there were 
 many instances, scarcely twenty years before, 
 in which the garrisons of such towns had 
 resisted in arms the royal authority; and if 
 not held to be fully justified, at all events had 
 passed without punishment, because they were 
 acting under the orders of him in whose name 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 59 
 
 tliey were levied. The attempt, therefore, of any 
 body of the king's troops to penetrate into the 
 Count's town of Morseiul, without his having 
 been formally deprived of the command thereof, 
 seemed to him one of the most outrageous vio- 
 lations of his privileges which it was possible to 
 imagine; and his heart consequently beat, as 
 we have said, with feelings of high indignation. 
 He suppressed them, however, with the calm 
 determination of doing what was right; and 
 turned to gaze upon the people wlio surrounded 
 him, in order to ascertain as far as possible by 
 what feelings they were affected. 
 
 His own attendants had congregated imme- 
 diately behind him ; on his right hand stood 
 his friend the Chevalier; on his left, about 
 half a step behind, so as to be near the Count, 
 but not to appear obtrusive, was a personage 
 of considerable importance in the little town 
 of Morseiul, though he exercised a handi- 
 craft employment, and worked daily with his 
 own hands, even while he directed others. This 
 was Paul Virlay, the principal blacksmith of the 
 place. He was at this time a man of about 
 fifty years of age, tall, and herculean in all his 
 proportions. The small head, the broad mus- 
 cular chest and shoulders, the brawny arms. 
 
60 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 the immense thick hands, the thin flanks, and 
 the stout legs and thighs, all bespoke extraor- 
 dinary strength. He was very dark in com- 
 plexion, with short-cut curly black hair, grizzled 
 with grey; and the features of his face, though 
 short, and by no means handsome, had a good 
 and a frank expression, but at all times some- 
 what stern. 
 
 At the present moment his brow was more 
 contracted than usual; not that there was any 
 other particular mark of very strongly ex- 
 cited passions upon his countenance; and the 
 attitude he had assumed was one of calm and 
 reposing strength, resting with his right hand 
 supported by one of the common quarter-staffs 
 of the country, a full inch and a half thick, much 
 in the same position which he frequently as- 
 sumed when, pausing in his toil, he talked with 
 his workmen, leaving the sledge hammer, that 
 usually descended with such awful strength, to 
 support the hand which wielded it at other 
 times like a feather. 
 
 Behind him again, was a great multitude of 
 the town's people of different classes, though 
 the mayor and the municipal officers had 
 thought fit to absent themselves carefully from 
 the scene of probable strife. Bat the eyes 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 61 
 
 of the Count fell, as we have said, upon Paul 
 Virlay ; and knowing him to be a man both 
 highly respected in his own class, and of con- 
 siderable wealth and importance in the city, he 
 addressed him in the first instance, saying,-^ 
 
 " Good morrow, Virlay, it is long since I 
 have seen you all. What is all this about?" 
 
 " You don't forget us. Count Albert, even 
 when you are away," replied the blacksmith, 
 w^ith his brow unbending. " We know that 
 very well, and have proofs of it too, when any 
 thing good is to be done ; but this seems to me 
 to be a bad business. We hear that the king 
 has suppressed the chamber of the edict, which 
 was our greatest safeguard ; and now my boy 
 tells me, for I sent him down to see when they 
 first came to the bottom of the hill, that this is 
 a proclamation forbidding us from holding 
 synods ; and be you sure, sir, that the time is 
 not far distant when they will try to stop us 
 altogether from worshipping God in our own 
 way. What think you, my lord ? " he said, in a 
 lower tone, " Were it not better to show them 
 at once that they cannot go on ?" and his looks 
 spoke much more than even his words. 
 
 " No, Virlay," replied the Count ; " no, by 
 no means. You see the people are in tumult 
 
62 THE HUGUEXOT. 
 
 below evidently. Any unadvised and illegal 
 resistance to the I'oyal authority will immediate- 
 ly call upoix IS harsh measures, and be made 
 the pretext b^ any bad advisers who may sur- 
 round the king for irritating his royal mind 
 against us. Let us hear what the proclamation 
 really is; even should it be harsh and unjust, 
 which from the king's merciful nature we will 
 hope is not the case : let us listen to it calmly 
 and peaceabl}^, and after having considered 
 well, and taken the advice and opinion of wise 
 and experienced men. let us then make what re- 
 presentations to the king we may think fit, and 
 petition him in his clemency to do us right." 
 
 " Clemency ! " said the blacksmith. " How- 
 ever, my lord, you know better than I, but I 
 hope they will not say any thing to make our 
 blood boil, that 's all." 
 
 " Even if they should," replied the Count, 
 ** we must prevent it from boiling over. Virlay, 
 I rely upon you, as one of the most sensible 
 men in the place, not only to restrain yourself, 
 but to aid me in restraining others. The kino^ 
 has every right to send his own officers to make 
 his will known to his people," 
 
 " But the dragoons," said Virlay, fixing 
 his eyes upon the soldiers ; " what business 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 63 
 
 have they here?" Why they might, Count 
 Albert " 
 
 The Count stopped him. 
 
 " They are yet without the i'eal bounds of 
 the town, Virlay," he said; " and they do not 
 enter into it ! Send some one you can trust for 
 the mayor with all speed; unhook the gates 
 from the bars that keep them back ; place a 
 couple of men behind each ; I will prevent the 
 military from entering into the town: but I trust 
 to you, and the other men of good sense who 
 surround me, to guard the king's officers and 
 the king's authority from any insult, and to 
 suffer the proclamation of his will to take place 
 in the market-place without any opposition or 
 tumult whatsoever." 
 
 " I will do my best, Count," replied the 
 blacksmith, " for I am sure you are a true 
 friend to us — and we may well trust in you." I 
 
 The crowd from below had in the meantime 
 advanced steadily up the hill, surrounding the 
 officers of the crown and the soldiery ; and by 
 this time the v/hole mass was within a hundred 
 and fifty yards of the spot where the Count and 
 his companions stood. Their progress had been 
 without violence, indeed, but not without hoot- 
 ings and outcry, which seemed greatly to annov 
 
64 THE HUGUENOT 
 
 the officer in command of the soldiers, he 
 having been accustomed alone to the court of 
 the grand monarch, and to the scenes in the 
 neighbourhood of the capital, where the people 
 might well be said to lick the dust beneath the 
 feet of their pageant-loving king. It seemed, 
 then, something so strange and monstrous to 
 his ears, that any expression of the royal will 
 should be received otherwise than with the 
 most deep and devoted submission, that he was 
 more than once tempted to turn and charge the 
 multitude. A prudent consideration, however, 
 of the numbers by which he was surrounded, 
 and the scantiness of his own band, overcame 
 all such purposes; and, though foaming with 
 indignation, he continued to advance, without 
 noticing the shouts that assailed him, and play- 
 ing with the manifold ribands and pieces of silk 
 that decorated his buff coat and his sword knot, 
 to conceal his vexation and annoyance. 
 
 " Who have we here at the head of them?" 
 demanded the Count, turning to the Chevalier. 
 " His face is not unknown to me." 
 
 " As far as I can see," replied his companion, 
 " it is young Hericourt, a nephew of Le Tel- 
 lier's — do you not remember ? as brave as a 
 lion, but moreover a young coxcomb, who 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 65 
 
 thinks that he can do every thing, and that no- 
 thing can be done without him ; as stupid as an 
 owl too. I wonder you do not recollect his 
 getting great credit for taking the little fort 
 of the hec de Voie by a sheer act of stupidity, — 
 getting himself and his party entangled be- 
 tween the two forts, and while Lamets was ad- 
 vancing to extricate him, forcing his way in, 
 from not knowing what else to do." 
 
 " I remember, I remember," said the Count, 
 with a smile ; " he was well rewarded for his 
 fortunate mistake. But what does he here, I 
 wonder ? I thought he never quitted the pre- 
 cincts of Versailles, but to follow the King to 
 the camp." 
 
 " He is the worst person who could have 
 been sent upon this errand," replied the Che- 
 valier; " for he is certain to make mischief 
 wherever he goes. He has attached himself 
 much to the Rouvres, however, of late, and I 
 suppose Le Tellier has given him some post 
 about the new governor, in order that his rule 
 may not be the most tranquil in the world." 
 
 While they were speaking, the eyes of the 
 people who were coming up the hill fell upon 
 the group that had assembled just in front of 
 the gates, with the Count, his friend, and his 
 
 VOL. I, r 
 
66 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 servants, in the foreground ; and immediately 
 a loud shout made itself heard, of " The Count ! 
 the Count ! Long live the Count ! " followed by 
 various other exclamations, such as " He will 
 protect us ! He will see justice done us ! Long 
 live our own good Count !" 
 f The moment that the Count's name was thus 
 loudly pronounced, the young officer, turning 
 to those who followed, gave some orders in a 
 low voice, and then, spurring on his horse 
 through the crowd, rode directly up to the 
 Count de Morseiul; who, as he saw him ap- 
 proaching, turned to the Chevalier, saying, 
 *' You bear witness, Louis, that I deal with this 
 matter as moderately and loyally as may be." 
 
 " I trust, for the sake of all," said the Che- 
 valier, " that you will. You know, Albert, 
 that I do not care two straws for one religion 
 more than the other; and think that a man can 
 serve God singing the psalms of Clement Marot 
 as well, or perhaps better, tlian if he sung them 
 in Latin, v/ithout, perhaps, understanding them. 
 But for Heaven's sake keep peace in the inside 
 of the country at all events. But here comes 
 our young dragoon." 
 
 As he spoke, the young officer rode up with 
 a good deal of irritation evident in his counte- 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 67 
 
 nance. He seemed to be three or four and 
 twenty years of age, of a complexion extremely 
 fair, and with a countenance sufficiently un- 
 meaning, though all the features were good. 
 He bowed familiarly to the Chevalier, and more 
 distantly to the Count de Morseuil ; but ad- 
 dressed himself at once to the latter : — 
 
 " I have the honour," he said, " I presume, 
 of speaking to the Count de Morseuil, and I 
 must say that I hope he will give me his aid in 
 causing proclamation of the king's will amongst 
 these mutinous and rebellious people of his town 
 of Morseuil." 
 
 " My friend the Chevalier here tells me," re- 
 plied the Count, " that I have the honour of 
 seeing Monsieur de Hericourt " 
 
 " The Marcjuis Auguste de Hericourt," in- 
 terrupted the young officer. 
 
 " Well, sir, v/ell," said the Count, somewhat 
 impatiently, " I stand corrected : the Marquis 
 Auguste de Hericourt, and I am very happy to 
 have the honour of seeing him, and also to inform 
 him that I will myself ensure that the king's 
 ■will is, as he says, proclaimed in my town of 
 Morseiul by the proper officers, taking care to 
 accompanj^ them into tlie tov/n myself for that 
 purpose, although I cannot but defend my poor 
 F 2 
 
68 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 townsmen from the accusation of being muti- 
 nous and rebellious subjects, nothing being fur- 
 ther from the thouglits of any one here present 
 than mutiny or rebellion." 
 
 "Do you not hear the cries and shouts?" 
 cried the young officer. *' Do you not see the 
 threatening aspect of the people?" 
 
 " I hear some shouts, certainly," answered the 
 Count, " as if something had given offence or 
 displeasure ; but what it is I do not know. I 
 trust and hope that it is nothing in any pro- 
 clamation of the king's; and if 1 should find it 
 to be so, when I hear the proclamation read, I 
 shall take every means to put an end to such 
 demonstrations of disappointment or grief, at 
 once. We have always the means of approach- 
 ing the royal ear, and I feel sure that there will 
 be no occasion for clamour or outcry in order to 
 obtain justice at the hands of our most gracious 
 and wise monarch. — But allow me to observe, 
 Monsieur le Marquis," he continued somewhat 
 more quickly, "your dragoons are approaching 
 rather too near the gates of Morseiul." 
 
 " You do not intend, I presume, sir," said 
 the young officer sharply, " to refuse an en- 
 trance to the officers of the King, charged with 
 a proclamation iiom his Majesty ! " 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 69 
 
 " Not to the King's proper civil officers," re- 
 plied the Count, keeping his ej'e, while he spoke, 
 warily fixed upon the dragoons. " But, most 
 assuredly, I do intend to refuse admittance to 
 any body of military whatsoever, great or small, 
 while I retain the post with which his Majesty 
 has entrusted me of governor to this place." 
 
 There was a pause for a single instant, and 
 the young officer turned his head, without 
 replying, towards the soldiers, on whom the 
 Count's eye also was still fixed. There was 
 something, however, suspicious in their move- 
 ments. They had now reached the brow of 
 the hill, and were widiin twenty yards of the 
 gate. They formed into a double file as they 
 came up in front of the civil officers, and the 
 head man of each file was seen passing a word 
 to those behind him. At the moment their 
 officer turned his head towards them, they be- 
 gan to move forward in quicker time, and in a 
 moment more would have passed the gates; 
 but at that instant the clear full voice of the 
 Count de Morseiul was heard exclaiming, in a 
 tone that rose above all the rest of the sounds — 
 
 " Close the gates ! " and the two ponderous 
 masses of wood, which had not been shut for 
 many years, swung forward grating on their 
 F 3 
 
70 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 hinges, and at once barred all entrance into the 
 town. 
 
 " What is the meaning of this, Monsieur de 
 Hericourt?" continued the Count. "Your men 
 deserve a severe reprimand, sir, for attempting 
 to enter the town without my permission or your 
 orders." 
 
 The young man turned very red, but he was 
 not ready with a reply, and the Chevalier, wil- 
 ling as far as possible to prevent any unplea- 
 sant consequences, and yet not to lose a jest, 
 exclaimed — 
 
 " I suppose the Marquis took it for the bee 
 de I'oie, but he is mistaken, you see." 
 
 " He might have found it a trap for a goose, 
 if not a goose's bill," said a loud voice from be- 
 hind ; but the Marquis either did not or would 
 not hear any thing but the pleasant part of the 
 allusion, and, bowing to the Chevalier with a 
 smile, he said, " Ob, you are too good. Monsieur 
 le Chevalier, the affair you mention was but a 
 trifle, far more owing to the courage of my men 
 than to any skill on my part. But, in the pre- 
 sent instance, I must say, Count," he added, 
 turning towards the other, " that the king's 
 officers must be admitted to make proclamations 
 in the town of Morseiul." 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 71 
 
 " The king's civil officers shall, sir,*' replied 
 the Count, " as I informed you before : but no 
 soldiers, on any pretence whatsoever. However, 
 sir," he continued, seeing the young officer mus- 
 tering up a superabundant degree of energy, 
 " 1 think it will be much the best plan for you 
 to do me the honour of reposing yourself, with 
 any two or three of your attendants you may 
 think fit, at my poor chateau here, without the 
 walls, while your troopers can refresh them- 
 selves at the little auberge at the foot of the 
 hill. My friend, the Chevalier here, will do the 
 honours of my house till I return, and I will 
 accompany the officers charged with the procla- 
 mation, and see that they meet with no obstruc- 
 tion in the fulfilment of their duty." 
 
 " I do not know that I am justified," said the 
 young officer, hesitating, " in not insisting upon 
 seeing the proclamation made myself." 
 
 " I am afraid there will be no use of insist- 
 ing," replied the Count; "and depend upon it, 
 sir, you will serve the king better by suffering 
 the proclamation to be made quietly, than even 
 by risking a disturbance by protracting, unne- 
 cessarily, an irritating discussion. I wish to 
 treat you with all respect, and with the distinc- 
 tion due to your high merit. Farther, I have 
 F 4 
 
72 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 nothing to say, but that I am governor of 
 Morseiul, and as such undertake to see the . 
 king's proclamation duly made within the 
 walls." 
 
 The hesitation of the young dragoon was 
 only increased by the cool and determined tone 
 of the Count. Murmurs were rising amongst 
 the people round, and the voice of Paul Virlay 
 was heard muttering, 
 
 " He had better decide quickl}', or we shall 
 not be able to keep the good men quiet." 
 
 The Marquis heard the words, and instantly 
 began to bristle up, to fix himself more firmly 
 in the saddle, and put his hand towards the 
 hilt of his sword ; but the Chevalier advanced 
 close to his side, and spoke to him for a moment 
 or two in a low voice. Nothing was heard of 
 their conversation, even by the Count de Mor- 
 sieul, but the v/ords " good wine — pleasant 
 evening — laugh over the whole affair.'' 
 
 But at length the young courtier bowed his 
 head to the Count, saying, " Well then, sir, I 
 repose the trust in you, knowing you to be a 
 man of such high honour, that you would not 
 undertake what you could not perform, nor fail 
 to execute punctually that which 3'^ou had un- 
 dertaken. I will do myself the honour of wait- 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 73 
 
 ing yonr return with the Chevalier, at your 
 chateau." 
 
 After some further words of civility on both 
 parts, the young officer dismounted and threw 
 his rein to a page, and then formally placing 
 the civil officers under the care and protection 
 of the Count de Morseiul, he gave orders to 
 his dragoons to bend their steps down the hill, 
 and refresh themselves at the aubcige below; 
 while he, bowing again to the Count, took his 
 way with the Chevalier and a single attendant 
 along the esplanade which led to the gates of 
 the chateau without the walls. The civil offi- 
 cers, who had certainly been somewhat mal- 
 treated as they came up the hill, seemed not a 
 little unwilling to see the dragoons depart, and 
 a loud shout, mingled of triumph and scorn, 
 with which the people treated the soldiers as 
 they turned to march down the hill, certainly 
 did not at all tend to comfort or re-assure the 
 the poor huissiers, greffiers, and other officers. 
 The shout caused the young marquis, who had 
 proceeded twenty or thirty steps upon his way, 
 to stop short, and turn round, imagining that 
 some new collision had taken place between the 
 town's people and the rest ; but seeing that all 
 was quiet he walked on again the moment afte-r. 
 
74 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 and the Count, causing the civil officers to be 
 surrounded by his own attendants, ordered the 
 wicket to be opened, and led the way in, call- 
 ing to Virlay to accompany him, and urging 
 upon him the necessity of preserving peace and 
 order, let the nature of the proclamation be 
 what it might. 
 
 " I have given you my promise, Count," re- 
 plied the blacksmith, " to do my best, and I 
 won't fail; but I won't answer for myself or 
 others on any other occasion." 
 
 " We are only speaking of the present," re- 
 plied the Count ; *' for other occasions other 
 measures, as the case may be : but at present 
 every thing requires us to submit without any 
 opposition. — Where can this cowardly mayor 
 be," he said, " that he does not choose to show 
 himself in a matter like this ? But the pro- 
 clamation must be made without him, if he do 
 not appear." 
 
 They had by this time advanced into the midst 
 of the great square, and the Count signified to 
 the officer charged with the proclamation, that it 
 had better be made at once : but for some mo- 
 ments what he suggested could not be accom- 
 plished from the pressure of the people, the 
 crowd amounting by this time to many hundred 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 75 
 
 persons. The Count, bis attendants, and Virlay, 
 however, contrived, with some difficulty, to clear 
 a little space around, the first by entreaties and 
 expostulations, and the blacksmith by sundry 
 thrusts of his strong quarterstaff and menaces, 
 with an arm which few of those there present 
 seemed inclined to encounter. 
 
 The Count then took off his hat, and the officer 
 began to read the proclamation, which was long 
 and wordy ; but which, like many another act of 
 the crown then taking place from day to day, 
 had a direct tendency to deprive the protectants 
 of France of the privileges which had been se- 
 cured to them by Henry IV. Amongst other 
 galling and unjust decrees here announced to the 
 people was one which — after stating that many 
 persons of the religion affecting the title of 7'e- 
 formed^ being ill-disposed towards the king's go- 
 vernment, were selling their landed property 
 with the view of emigrating to other lands — 
 went on to declare and to give warning to all 
 purchasers, that if heretical persons effecting 
 such sales did quit the country within one year 
 after having sold their property, the whole would 
 be considered as confiscated to the state, and that 
 the purchasers would receive no indemnity. 
 
 When this part of the proclamation was read, 
 
76 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 the eyes of the sturdy blacksmith turned upon 
 the Count, who, by a gesture of the hand, 
 endeavoured to suppress all signs of disappro- 
 bation amongst the multitude. It was in vain, 
 however; for a loud shout of indignation burst 
 forth from them, which was followed by another, 
 when the proclamation went on to declare, that 
 the mayors of towns, professing the protestant 
 faith, should be deprived of the rank of nobles, 
 which had been formerly granted to them. The 
 proclamation then proceeded with various other 
 notices of the same kind, and the indignation 
 of the people was loud and unrestrained. The 
 presence of the Count, however, and the ex- 
 ertions of Virlay, and several influential people, 
 who were opposed to a rash collision with the 
 authority of the king, prevented any act of 
 violence from being committed, and when the 
 whole ceremony was complete, the officers were 
 led back to the gates by the Count, who gave 
 orders that they should be conducted in safety 
 beyond the precincts of the place by his own 
 attendants. 
 
 After returning into the great square, and 
 holding a momentary conversation with some of 
 the principal persons present, he returned by 
 the postern to his own abode, where he found 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 77 
 
 his friend and the young officer, apparently 
 forgetting altogether the unpleasant events of 
 the morning, and laughing and talking gaily 
 over indifferent subjects. 
 
 " I have the pleasure of informing you, 
 Monsieur de Hericourt," said the Count when 
 he appeared, " that the proclamation has been 
 made without interruption, and that the king's 
 officers have been conducted out of the town 
 in safety. We have therefore nothing more 
 of an unpleasant kind to discuss, and I trust 
 that you will take some refreshment." 
 
 Wine, and various sorts of meats, which were 
 considered as delicacies in those days, were 
 brought and set before the young courtier, who 
 did justice to all, declaring that he had never 
 in his life tasted any thing more exquisite than 
 the produce of the Count's cellars. He even 
 ventured to praise the dishes, though he in- 
 sinuated, much to the indignation of the cook, 
 to whom it was repeated by an attendant, that 
 there was a shade too much of taragon in one 
 of the ragouts, and that if a matelotte had been 
 five minutes more cooked, the fish would have 
 been tenderer, and the flavour more decided. 
 The Count smiled, and apologised for the error, 
 reminding him, that the poor rustics in the 
 
78 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 country could not boast the skill and delicacj^, 
 or even perhaps the nicety of natural taste of 
 the artists of the capital. He then turned the 
 conversation to matters of some greater im- 
 portance, and inquired when they were to 
 expect the presence of the Due de Rouvre in 
 the province. 
 
 The young Marquis opened his eyes at the 
 question, as if he looked upon it as a sign of 
 the most utter and perfect ignorance and rusti- 
 city that could be conceived. 
 
 " Is it possible. Monsieur le Comte," he said, 
 " that you, so high in the service of the king, 
 and so highly esteemed, as I may add, at court, 
 are not aware that the duke arrived at Poitiers 
 nearly five days ago ? I had the honour of 
 accompanying him thither, and he has himself 
 been within the last three days as near as seven 
 leagues to the very place where we are now 
 sitting." 
 
 " You must remember, my good sir," replied 
 the Count, " as some excuse for my ignorance, 
 that I received his Majesty's gracious permission 
 to return hither upon some important affairs 
 direct from the army, without visiting the court, 
 and that I only arrived late last night. Pray, 
 when you return to Monsieur de Rouvre, pre- 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 79 
 
 sent my compliments to him, and tell him that 
 I shall do myself the honour of waiting upon 
 him, to congratulate him and the Duchess upon 
 their safe arrival in the province, without 
 any delay." 
 
 " Wait till they are fully established at Poi- 
 tiers," replied the young officer. *' They are now 
 upon a little tour through the province, not 
 choosing to stay at Poitiers yet," he added, 
 sinking his voice into a low and confidential 
 tone, " because their household is not in com- 
 plete order. None of the new liveries are 
 made; the guard of the governor is not yet 
 organised ; two cooks and three servers have 
 not arrived from Paris. Nothing is in order, in 
 short. In a week, I trust, we shall be more 
 complete, and then indeed I do not think that 
 the household of any governor in the kingdom 
 will exceed in taste, if not in splendour, that of 
 the Due de Rouvre." 
 
 " Which is, I presume," said the Chevalier, 
 " under the direction and superintendence of the 
 refined and celebrated good taste of the Marquis 
 Auguste de Hericourt." 
 
 " Why, to say the truth.," replied the young 
 nobleman, " my excellent friend De Rouvre 
 has some confidence in my judgment of such 
 
80 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 things : I may say, indeed, has implicit faith 
 therein, as he has given all that department 
 over to me for the time, beseeching me to 
 undertake it, and of course I cannot disappoint 
 him." 
 
 " Of com'se not ! of course not ! " replied the 
 Chevalier, and in such conversation passed on 
 some time, the worthy Marquis de Hericourt, 
 swallowed up in himself, not at all perceiving 
 a certain degree of impatience in the Count de 
 Morseiul, which might have afforded any other 
 man a hint to take his departure. He lingered over 
 his wine ; he lingered over his dessert ; he per- 
 ambulated the gardens ; he criticised the various 
 arrangements of the chateau with that minute 
 attention to nothings, which is the most insuf- 
 ferable of all things when obtruded upon a 
 mind bent upon matters of deep importance. 
 
 It was thus fully five o'clock in the afternoon 
 before he took his departure, and the Count 
 forced himself to perform every act of civility 
 by him to the last moment. As soon as he was 
 gone, however, the young nobleman turned 
 quickly to his friend, saying, — 
 
 " I thought that contemptible piece of empti- 
 ness would never depart, and of course, Louis, 
 after what has taken place this morning, it is 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 81 
 
 absolutely necessary for me to consult with some 
 of my friends of the same creed as myself I will 
 not in any degree involve you in these matters, 
 as the very fact of your knowing any of our 
 proceedings might hereafter be detrimental to 
 you : and 1 onh^ make this excuse because I owe 
 it to the long friendship between us not to with- 
 hold any part of my confidence from you, except 
 out of consideration for yourself." 
 
 " Act as you think fit, my dear Albert," re- 
 plied his friend ; " but only act with moderation. 
 If you want my advice on any occasion, ask it, 
 without minding whether you compromise me 
 or not ; I'm quite sure that I am much too bad 
 a Catholic to sacrifice my friend's secrets either 
 to Pellisson, La Chaise, or Le Tellier. If I am 
 not mistaken, the devil himself will make the 
 fourth at their card-table some day, and perhaps 
 Louvois will stand by and bet." 
 
 " Oh ! I entertain no fear of your betraying 
 me," answered the Count with a smile; "but 
 I should entertain great fear of embroiling you 
 with the court." 
 
 " Only take care not to embroil yourself," 
 replied the Chevalier. " I am sure I wish there 
 were no such thing as sects in the world. If you 
 could but take a glance at the state of England, 
 
 VOL. I. G 
 
82 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 which is split into more sects than it contains 
 cities, I am sure you would be of Turenne's 
 opinion, and come into the bosom of the mother 
 church, if it were but for the sake of getting rid 
 of such confusion. Nay, shake not your wise 
 head. If the truth be told, you are a Protestant 
 because you were bred so in your youth ; and 
 one half of the world has no other motive either 
 for its religion or its politics. But get thee 
 gone, Albert, get thee gone. Consult with 
 your wise friends, and come back more Hugue- 
 notised than ever." 
 
 The Count would have made some further 
 apologies for leaving him, but his friend would 
 not hear them, and sending for his horse, Albert 
 of Morseiul took his departure from his chateau, 
 forbidding any of his attendants to follow him. 
 
83 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE PASTOR. 
 
 The Count's orders were given so distinctly 
 for no one to accompany him on his way, that 
 none of his domestics presumed even to gaze 
 after him from the gate, or to mark the path 
 he took. As he wished to call no attention, 
 he kept under the walls of the town, riding 
 slowly along over the green till he came to the 
 zigzag path which we have before mentioned 
 as being now almost entirely disused. He had 
 cast a large cloak around him, of that kind 
 which at an after period degenerated into what 
 was called a roquelaure, and his person was thus 
 sufficiently concealed to prevent him from being 
 recognised by any body at a distance. 
 
 At the foot of the zigzag which he now 
 descended he chose a path which led along 
 the bank of the river for some way to the right, 
 and then entered into a beautiful wooded lane 
 between high banks. The sun was shining full 
 over the world, but with a tempered and gentle 
 G 2 
 
84 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 light from the point of its dechnation at which 
 it had arrived. The rays, however, did not in 
 general reach the road, except where the bank 
 sloped away; and then pouring through the 
 green leaves and branches of the wild briar the 
 lioneysuckle and the hazel, it streamed upon the 
 miniature cliffs of yellow sand on the opposite 
 side, and chequered the uneven path which the 
 young Count was pursuing. The birds had as 
 yet lost little of their full song, and the deep 
 round tones of the blackbird bidding the golden 
 day adieu as he saw the great light-bearer de- 
 scending in the heaven, poured forth from 
 beneath the holly bushes, with a melancholy 
 and a moralising sound, speaking to the heart of 
 man with the grand philosophic voice of nature, 
 and counselling peace and affection, and medi- 
 tation on the bounties of God. 
 
 It is impossible to ride through such scenes at 
 such an hour on the evening of bright summer 
 daj^s without feeling the calm and elevating in- 
 fluence of all things, whether mute or tuneful, 
 taught by almighty beneficence to celebrate 
 eitiier by aspect or by song the close of another 
 day's being and enjoyment. The effect upon 
 the heart of the Count de Morseiul was full and 
 cieep. He had been riding slov/ly before, but 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 85 
 
 after passing through the lane for about a mi- 
 nute, he gently drew in the bridle upon his 
 horse till the beast went slower still, then laid 
 the rein quietly upon his neck, and gave himself 
 up to meditation. 
 
 The chief theme in his mind at that mo- 
 ment was certainly the state and prospects 
 of himself and his fellow Protestants: and per- 
 haps — even in experiencing all the beauty and 
 the peacefulness of the scene through which he 
 wandered, the calm tone of enjoyment in every 
 thing around, the voice of tranquillity that spoke 
 in every sound — his feelings towards those 
 who unnecessarily disturbed the contented ex- 
 istence of an industrious and happy race, might 
 become bitterer, and his indisfnation cjrow more 
 deep and stern, though more melancholy and 
 tranquil. What had the Huguenots done, he 
 asked himself, for persecution to seek them out 
 there in the midst of their calm and pleasant 
 dwellings — to fill them with fiery passions that 
 they knew not of before — to drive them to acts 
 which they as well as their enemies might bit- 
 terly repent at an after period — and to mar 
 scenes which seemed destined for the purest 
 and happiest enjoyment that the nature of 
 man and its harmony with the other works of 
 G 3 
 
86 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 God can produce, by anxiety, care, strife, and 
 perhaps with bloodshed? 
 
 What had the Huguenots done? he asked him- 
 self. Had they not served their king as loyally, 
 as valiantly, as readily in the battle field, and 
 upon the wide ocean, as the most zealous Catholic 
 amongst them all? Had not the most splendid 
 victories which his arms had obtained by land 
 been won for him by Huguenot generals? Was 
 not even then a Huguenot seaman carrying the 
 thunders of his navy into the ports of Spain ? 
 Were the Huguenots less loyal subjects, less in- 
 dustrious mechanics, less estimable as citizens, 
 than any other of the natives of the land ? Far 
 from it. The contrary was known to be the fact 
 — the decided contrary. They were more 
 peaceable, they were more tranquil, they were 
 more industrious, they were more ready to con- 
 tribute either their blood or their treasure to the 
 service of the state than the great mass of the 
 Catholic population; and yet tormenting ex- 
 actions, insults, cavillings, inquiries, and investi- 
 gations, all tending to irritate and to enrage , 
 were going on day by day, and were clearly to 
 be followed soon by the persecuting sword itsel f. 
 
 On such themes he paused and thought as 
 he went on, and the first effect produced u pon 
 
THE HUGUEXOT. 87 
 
 his mind was of course painful and gloomy. 
 As the sweetest music sounding at the same 
 time with inharmonious notes can but produce 
 harsh dissonance, so the brightest scenes to a 
 mind filled with painful thoughts seems but to 
 deepen their sadness. Still, however, after a 
 time, the objects around him, and their bright 
 tranquillity, had their effect upon the heart of 
 the Count; his feelings grew calmer, and the 
 magic power of association came to lay out a 
 road whereby fancy might lead his thoughts to 
 gentler themes. The path that he was pur- 
 suing led him at length to the spot where 
 the little adventure had occurred which he 
 had related in the course of the morning to 
 his friend. He never passed by that spot with- 
 out giving a thought to the fair girl he had 
 there met; but now he dwelt upon the recollec- 
 tion longer than he otherwise might have done, 
 in consequence of having spoken of her and of 
 their meeting that very day. He smiled as he 
 thought of the whole, for there was nothing like 
 pain of any kind mingled with the remembrance. 
 It was merely a fanciful dream he had cherished, 
 half amused at himself for the little romance 
 he had got up in his own mind, half employing 
 G 4 
 
88 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 the romance itself as a clieck upon the very 
 imagination that had framed it. 
 
 " She was certainly very lovely," he thought 
 as he rode on, "and her voice was certainly very 
 sweet; and unless nature, as is but too often the 
 case, had in her instance become accomplice to 
 a falsehood, that form, that face, that voice, 
 must have betokened a bright spirit and a noble 
 heart. Alas ! why is it," he went on to ask 
 himself, *' why is it that the countenance, if v/e 
 read it aright, should not be the correct inter- 
 preter of the heart ? Doubtless such was at 
 first God's will, and the serpent taught us, 
 though we could not conceal our hearts from the 
 Almighty, to falsify the stamp he had fixed upon 
 them for our fellow men. And yet it is strange 
 — however much we may liave gained from ex- 
 perience, however painfully we may learn that 
 man's heart is written in his actions, not in his 
 face — it is strange we ever judge more or less 
 by the same deceitful countenance, and guess by 
 its expressions, if not by its features, though we 
 might as well judge of what is at the bottom of a 
 deep stream by the waves that agitate its surface." 
 
 In such fanciful dreams he vv-ent on, often 
 turnino; again to the fair vision that he had 
 there seen, sometimes wondering who she could 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 89 
 
 have been, and sometimes deciding and deciding 
 the question wrongly in his own mind, but 
 never suffering the wild expectation which he 
 had once nourished of meeting her again to 
 cross his mind — for he had found that to in- 
 dulge it rendered him uneasy, and unfit for 
 more real pursuits. 
 
 At length, the lane winding out upon some 
 hills where the short dry turf betokened a rock}'- 
 soil below, took its v/ay through a country of a 
 less pleasing aspect. Here the Count de Mor- 
 seiul put his horse into a quicker pace, and 
 after descending into another low valley full of 
 streams and long luxuriant grass, he climbed 
 slowly a high hill, surmounted by a towering 
 spire. The village to which the spire belonged 
 was very small, and consisted entirely of the 
 low houses of an agricultural population. They 
 were neat, clean, and cheei'ful however in as- 
 pect, and there was an attention to niceness of 
 exterior visible every where, not very frequently 
 found amongst the lower classes of any country. 
 
 There was scarcely any one in the street, as 
 the Count passed, except, indeed, a few children 
 enjoying their evening sport, and taking the 
 day's last hour of happy life, before the setting 
 sun brought the temporary extinction of their 
 
90 THE HUGUENOT^ 
 
 bright activity. There was also at the end of 
 the town a good old dame sitting at a cottage 
 door and spinning in the tempered sunshine of 
 the evening, while her grey cat rolled happy in 
 the dust beside her; but the whole of the rest of 
 the villagers were still in the fields. 
 
 The Count rode on, giving the dame " good 
 even" as he passed; and, leaving what seemed 
 the last house of the village behind him, he 
 took his way along a road shadowed by tall 
 walnut trees growing upon the edge of a hill, 
 which towered up in high and broken banks on 
 the left, and sloped away upon the right, dis- 
 playing the whole track of country through 
 which the young nobleman had just passed, 
 bright in the evening light below, with his own 
 town and castle rising up a fellow hill to that on 
 which he now stood, at the distance of some 
 seven or eight miles. 
 
 As he turned one sharp angle of the hill, 
 however, he suddenly drew in his rein on seeing 
 a carriage before him. It was stationary, how- 
 ever, and the two boorish looking servants, 
 dressed in grey, who accompanied it, were stand- 
 ing at the edge of the hill, gazing over the 
 country, as if the scene were new to them; while 
 the horses, which the coachman had left to their 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 91 
 
 own discretion, were stamping in a state of list- 
 less dozing, to keep off the flies which the season 
 rendered troublesome. 
 
 It was evident that the carriage was held in 
 waiting for some one, and the Count, after paus- 
 ing for a single instant, rode on, looking in as 
 he passed it. There was no one, however, within 
 the wide and clumsy vehicle, and the servants, 
 though they stared at the young stranger, took 
 no notice, and made no sign of reverence as he 
 went by them ; with which, indeed, he was well 
 satisfied, not desiring to be recognised by any 
 one who might noise his proceedings abroad. 
 
 He rode on then with somewhat of a quicker 
 pace, to a spot where, at the side of the road, a 
 little wicket gate led into a small grove of old 
 trees, through which a path conducted to a 
 neat stone-built house, of small size, with its 
 garden around it : flowers on the one hand, and 
 pot-herbs on the other. Nothing could present 
 an aspect cleaner, neater, more tasteful than the 
 house and the garden. Not a straw was out of 
 its place in the thatch, and every flower-bed of 
 the little parterre was trimmed exactly with the 
 same scrupulous care. The door was of wood, 
 painted grey, with a rope and handle by the 
 side, to which was attached a large bell, but, 
 
92 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 though at ahuost all times that door stood 
 open, it was closed on the present occasion. 
 The young Count took his way through the 
 grove and the garden straight to the door, as 
 if familiar with the patli of old, leaving his horse, 
 however, under the trees, not far from the outer 
 gate. On finding the door closed, he pulled 
 the handle of the bell, though somewhat gently; 
 but, for a moment or two, no one replied, and 
 he rang again, on which second summons a maid 
 servant, of some forty or fifty years, appeared, 
 bearing on her head a towering structure of 
 white linen, in the shape of a cap, not unlike in 
 shape and snowy whiteness the uncovered peak 
 of some mountain ridge in the Alps. 
 
 On her appearance she uttered an exclamation 
 of pleasure at the sight of the young Count, whom 
 she instantly recognised ; and, on his asking for 
 her master, she replied, that he was busy in con- 
 ference with two ladies, but that she was sure that 
 the Count de Morseiul might go in at any time. 
 She pointed onward with her hand, as she 
 spoke, down the clean nicely-sanded passage to 
 the door of a small room at the back of the 
 house, looking over the prospect which we have 
 mentioned. It was evidently the good woman's 
 intention that the Count should go in and an- 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 93 
 
 nouiice himself; but he did not choose to 
 do so, and sent her forward to ask if he 
 might be admitted. A full clear round voice 
 instantly answered from within, on her applica- 
 tion, " Certainly, certainly," and, taking that 
 as his warrant, the Count advanced into the 
 room at once. He found it tenanted by three 
 people, on only one of whom, however, we shall 
 pause, as the other two, consisting of a lady, 
 dressed in a sort of half mourning, with a thick 
 veil which she had drawn over her face before 
 the Count entered, and another who was ap- 
 parently a female servant of a superior class, in- 
 stantly quitted the room, merely saying to their 
 companion, 
 
 " I will not forget." 
 
 The thirdwasa man of sixty-two or sixty-three 
 years of age, dressed in black, without sword or 
 any ornament to his plain straight cut clothes. 
 His head was bare, though a small black velvet 
 cap lay on the table beside him, and his white 
 hair, which was suffered to grow very long at the 
 back and on the temples, fell down his neck, 
 and met the plain white collar of his shirt, which 
 was turned back upon his shoulders. The top 
 of his head was bald, rising up from a fine wide 
 forehead, with all those characteristic marks of 
 
94 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 expansion and elevation wliicli we are generally 
 inclined to associate in our own minds with the 
 idea of powerful intellect and noble feelings. 
 The countenance, too, was fine, the features 
 straight, clear, and well-defined, though the eyes, 
 which had been originally fine and large, were 
 somewhat hollowed by age, and the cheeks, 
 sunken also, left the bones beneath the eyes 
 rather too prominent. The chin was rounded 
 and fine, and the teeth white and undecayed; 
 but, in other respects, the marks of age were 
 very visible. There were lines and furrows 
 about the brow ; and, on the cheeks ; and, be- 
 tween the eyebrows, there was a deep dent, 
 which might give, in some degree, an air of 
 sternness, but seemed still more the effect of in- 
 tense thought, and perhaps of anxious care. 
 
 The form of the old man bore evident traces 
 of the powerful and vigorous mould in which it 
 had been originally cast ; the shoulders were 
 broad, the chest deep, the arms long and sinewy, 
 the hands large and muscular. The complexion 
 had been originally brown, and perhaps at one 
 time florid; but now it was pale, without a 
 trace of colour any where but in the lips, which 
 for a man of that age were remarkably full and 
 red. The eye, the light of the soul, was still 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 95 
 
 bright and sparkling. It gave no evidence of 
 decay, varying frequently in expression from 
 keen and eager rapidity of thought, andYrom the 
 rapid changes of feeling in a heart still full of 
 strong emotions. 
 
 Such — though the picture is but a faint one — 
 such was the appearance of Claude de I'Estang, 
 Huguenot minister of the small village of Auron, 
 at equal distances from Ruffigny and Morseiul. 
 He had played, in his youth, a conspicuous part 
 in defence of the Huguenot cause ; he had been 
 a soldier as well as a preacher, and the sword 
 and musket had been familiar to his hands, so 
 Ions: as the relin^ion of his fathers was assailed 
 by open persecution. No sooner, however, did 
 those times seem to have passed away, than, 
 casting from him the weapons of carnal warfare, 
 he resumed the exercise of the profession to 
 which he had been originally destined, and 
 became, for the time, one of the most popular 
 preachers in the south of France. 
 
 Though his life was irreproachable, his 
 manners pure, and his talents high, Claude 
 de I'Estang had not been without his portion of 
 the faults and failings of humanity. ' He had 
 been ambitious in his particular manner; he 
 had been vain: he had loved the admiration 
 
96 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 and applause of the multitude; he had coveted 
 the fame of eloquence, and the reputation of 
 superior sanctity ; youth, and youth's eagerness, 
 joined with the energy inseparable from high ge- 
 nius, had carried his natural errors to an extreme: 
 but long before the period of which we now 
 speak, years, and still more sorrows, had worked 
 a great and beneficial, but painful alteration. 
 His first disappointment was the disappoint- 
 ment of the brightest hopes of youth, compli- 
 cated with all that could aggravate the crossing 
 of early love; for there was joined unto it the 
 blasting of all bright confidence in woman's 
 sincerity, and the destruction of that trust in the 
 eternal happiness of one whom he could never 
 cease to love which was more painful to the 
 mind of a sincere and enthusiastic follower of 
 his own particular creed than the loss of all his 
 other hopes together. He had loved early, and 
 loved above his station; and encouraged by hope, 
 and by the smiles of one who fancied that she 
 loved in return, his ambition had been stimulated 
 by passion, till all the great energies of his mind 
 were called forth to raise himself to the highest 
 celebrity." When he had attained all, however, 
 when he saw multitudes flock to hear his voice, 
 and thousands hanging upon the words of his lips 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 07 
 
 as upon oracles, even then, at the moment when 
 he thought every thing must yield to him, he 
 had seen an unexpected degree of coldness come 
 upon her he loved, and apparent reluctance to 
 fulfil the promises which had been given when 
 his estate was lowlier. Some slight opposition 
 on the part of noble and wealthy parents — 
 opposition that would have yielded to entreaties 
 less than urgent, was assigned as the cause of the 
 hesitation which wrung his heart. The very du- 
 ties which he himself had inculcated, and which, 
 had there been real love at heart, would have 
 found a very different interpretation, were now 
 urged in opposition to his wishes ; and, mortified 
 and pained, Claude de I'Estang watched anxi- 
 ously for the ultimate result. We need not 
 pause upon all the steps ; the end was, that he 
 savv^ her, to whom he had devoted every affection 
 of a v/arm and energetic heart, break her en- 
 gagements to him, wed an enemy of her father's 
 creed, renounce the religion in which she had 
 been brought up, and after some years of ephe- 
 meral glitter in a corrupt court, become faithless 
 to the husband for whom she had become faith- 
 less to her religion, and end her days, in bitter- 
 ness, in a convent, where her faith was suspected, 
 and her real sins daily reproved. 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
98 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 In the meanwhile, Claude de I'Estang had 
 wrestled with his own nature. He had refrained 
 from showing mortification, or grief, or despair ; 
 he had kept the serpent within his own bosom, 
 and fed him upon his own heart : he had aban- 
 doned not his pulpit; he had neglected, in no 
 degree, his flock ; he had publicly held up as a 
 warning to others the dereliction of her whom 
 he most loved, as one who had gone out from 
 amongst them because she was not of them ; 
 he had become sterner, indeed more severe, in 
 his doctrines as well as in his manners, and this 
 first sorrow had a tendency rather to harden 
 than to soften his heart. 
 
 The next thing, how^ever, which he had to 
 imdergo, was the punishment of that harshness. 
 A youth of a gentle but eager disposition, who 
 had been his own loved companion and friend, 
 whom he still esteemed highly for a thousand 
 good and engaging qualities, was betrayed into 
 an error, on the circumstances of which we will 
 not pause. Suffice it to say that it proceeded 
 from strong passion and circumstances of tempt- 
 ation, and that for it he was eager and willing 
 to make atonement. He was one of the con- 
 gregation of Claude de I'Estang, however, and 
 the minister showed himself the more deter- 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 99 
 
 mined, on account of the friendship that existed 
 between them, not to suffer the fault to pass 
 \vithout the humiUation of public penitence ; and 
 he exacted all, to the utmost tittle, that a harsh 
 church, in its extremest laws, could demand, ere 
 it received a sinner back into its bosom ao:ain. 
 The young man submitted, feeling deep repent- 
 ance, and believing his own powers of endurance 
 to be greater than they were. But the effect was 
 awful. From the church door, when he had 
 performed the act demanded of him, fancying 
 that the finger of scorn would be pointed at 
 him for ever, he fled to his own home with rea- 
 son cast headlong from her throne. Ere two 
 hours were over he had died by his own hand ; 
 scrawling 'with his blood, as it flowed from him, 
 a brief epistle to his former friend to tell him 
 that the act was his. 
 
 That awful day, and those few lines, not only 
 filled the bosom of the minister with remorse 
 and grief, but it opened his eyes to every thing 
 that had been dark in his own bosom. It showed 
 him that he had made a vanity of dealing with 
 his friend more severely than he would have 
 done with others ; that it was for his own repu- 
 tation's sake that he had thus acted ; that there 
 was pride in the severe austerity of his life ; that 
 H 2 
 
100 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 there was something like hypocrisy in the cahn 
 exterior with which he had covered over a broken 
 heart. He felt that he had mighty enemies to 
 combat in himself; and, as his heart was origin- 
 ally pure and upright, his energies great, and 
 his power over himself immense, he determined 
 that he would at once commence the war, and 
 never end it till — to use his own words — " he 
 had subdued every strong hold of the evil spirit 
 in his breast, and expelled the enemy of his 
 eternal Master for ever." 
 
 He succeeded in his undertaking: his very 
 first act was to resign to others the cure of his 
 congregation in Rochelle ; the next to apply 
 for ani obtain the cure of the little Protestant 
 congregation, in the remote village of Auron. 
 Every argument vras brought forward to induce 
 him to stay in La Rochelle, but every argu- 
 ment proved inefficacious. The vanity of popu- 
 larity he fancied might be a snare to him, 
 and he refused all entreaties. When he came 
 amongst the good villagers, he altered the 
 whole tone and character of his preaching. It 
 became simple, calm, unadorned, suited in every 
 respect to the capacity of the lowest person that 
 heard him. All the fire of his eloquence was 
 confined to ursmg upon his hearers their duties, 
 
THE HUGUENOT, 101 
 
 in the tone of one whose whole soul and ex- 
 pectations were staked upon their salvation. 
 He became mild and gentle, too, though firm 
 Tvhen it was needful ; and the reputation which 
 he had formerly coveted still followed him when 
 he sought to cast it off*. No synod of the Pro- 
 testant clergy took place without the opinion of 
 Claude de I'Estang being cited ahnost without 
 appeal ; and whenever advice, or consolation, or 
 support was wanting, men would travel for 
 miles to seek it at the humble dwelling of the 
 village pastor. 
 
 His celebrity, joined with his mildness, gained 
 great immunities for himself and his flock, 
 during the early part of the reign of Louis XIV. 
 At first, indeed, when he took upon himself the 
 charge of Auron, the Catholic authorities of the 
 neighbouring towns, holding in remembrance 
 his former character, imagined that he had 
 come there to make proselytes, and prepared 
 to wage the strife with vehemence against him. 
 The intendant of the province was urged to 
 ■visit the little village of Auron, to cause the 
 spire of the church — which had been suffered 
 to remain, as all the inhabitants of the neigh-- 
 bouring district were Protestants — to be pulled 
 down, and the building reduced to the shape 
 H 3 
 
102 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 and dimensions to which the temples of the Pro- 
 testants were generally restricted : but ere the 
 pastor had been many months there, his conduct 
 was so different from what had been expected ; 
 he kept himself so completely aloof from every 
 thing like cabal or intrigue; he showed so little 
 disposition to encroach upon the rights, or to 
 assail the religion, of others; that, knowing his 
 talents and his energies when roused into 
 action, the neighbouring Catholics embraced 
 the opinion, that it would be better to leave 
 him undisturbed. 
 
 The intendant of the province was a wise 
 and a moderate man, and although, when 
 urged, he could not neglect to visit the little 
 town of Auron, yet he did so after as much 
 delay as possible, and with the determination 
 of dealing as mildly with its pastor, and its 
 population, as was possible. When he came, 
 he found the minister so mild, so humble, so 
 unlike what he had been represented, that 
 his good intentions were strengthened. He 
 was obliged to say, that he must have the 
 spire of the church taken down, although it was 
 shown that there was not one Catholic family to 
 be offended by the sight within seven or eight 
 miles around. But Claude de I'Estang only 
 
THE HUGUENOT. *103 
 
 smiled at the proposal, saying, that he could 
 preach quite as well if it were away; and the 
 intendant, though he declared that it was abso- 
 lutely necessary to be done, by some accident 
 always forgot to give orders to that effect; and 
 even at a later period discovered that the spire, 
 both from its own height and from the height 
 of the hill on which it stood, sometimes acted 
 as a landmark to ships at sea. 
 
 Thus the spire remained ; and here, in calm 
 tranquillity, Claude de I'Estanghad, at the time 
 we speak of, passed more than thirty years of 
 his life. A small private fortune of his own 
 enabled him to exercise any benevolent feelings 
 to which his situation might give rise : simple 
 in habits, he required little for himself; active 
 and energetic in mind, he never wanted time 
 to attend to the spiritual and temporal wants of 
 his flock with the most minute attention. 
 Though ever grave and sad himself, he was 
 ever well pleased to see the peasantry happy and 
 amused; and he felt practically every day, in 
 comparing Auron with Rochelle, how mucli 
 better is love than popularity. No magistiaie, 
 no judge, had any occupation in the town of Au- 
 ron, for the veneration in which he was held was 
 a law to the place. Any disputes that occurred 
 H 4 
 
104 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 amongst the inhabitants in consequence of tl e 
 inseparable selfishnesses of our nature, were 
 instantly referred to him ; and he was sure to 
 decide in such a way as instantly to satisfy the 
 great bulk of the villagers that he was right. 
 There were no recusants ; for though there 
 might be individuals who, from folly or obsti- 
 nacy, or the blindness of selfishness, would have 
 opposed his decision if it had stood unsup- 
 ported, yet when the great mass of their fellow 
 villagers were against them also, they dared not 
 litter a word. If there was any evil committed ; 
 if youth, and either youth's passions or its 
 follies produced wrong, the pastor had learned 
 ever to censure mildly, to endeavour to amend 
 rather than to punish, and to repair the evil 
 that had been done, rather than to castigate 
 him to whom it was attributable. 
 
 In such occupations passed the greater part of 
 his time ; and he felt to the very heart the truth of 
 the words ^ — even in this world — that "blessed 
 are the peace-makers." The rest of his time 
 he devoted either to study or to relaxation. 
 What he called study was the deep intense ap- 
 plication of his mind to the knowledge and in- 
 terpretation of the Holy Scriptures, whether in 
 translation or in the original languages. What 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 105 
 
 he called relaxation divided itself into two parts: 
 the reading of that high classical literature, 
 which had formed the great enjoyment of his 
 youth, and by attention to which his eloquence 
 had been chiefly formed ; and the cultivation of 
 his flower-garden, of which he was extremely 
 fond, together with the superintendence of the 
 little farm which surrounded his mansion. His 
 life, in short, was a life of primeval simplicity : 
 his pleasures few, but sweet and innocent; his 
 course of existence, for many years at least, 
 smooth and unvaried, remote from strife, and 
 dedicated to do good. 
 
 From time to time, indeed, persons of a 
 higher rank, and of thoughts and manners 
 much more refined than those of the villagers 
 by whom he was surrounded, would visit his 
 retirement, to seek his advice or enjoy his con- 
 versation ; and on these occasions he certainly 
 did feel a refreshment of mind from the livino: 
 communion with persons of equal intellect, 
 which could not be gained even from his con- 
 verse with the mighty dead. Still it never 
 made him wish to return to situations in which 
 such opportunities were more frequent, if not 
 constant. " It is enough as it is," he said ; " it 
 now comes like a refreshing shower upon the soil 
 
106 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 of the heart, teaching it to bring forth flowers ; 
 but, perhaps, if that rain were more plentiful 
 and continued always, there would be nothing 
 but flowers and no fruit. I love my solitude, 
 though perhaps I love it not unbroken." 
 
 It rarely happened that these visits had any 
 thing that was at all painful or annoying in 
 them, for the means of communication between 
 one part of the country and another were in 
 that day scanty; and those who came to see 
 him could in no degree be moved by curiosity, 
 but must either be instigated by some motive 
 of much importance, or brought thither by the 
 desire of a mind capable of comprehending and 
 appreciating his. He seldom, we may almost 
 say he never, went out to visit any one but the 
 members of his own flock in his spiritual capa- 
 city. He had twice, indeed, in thirty years, 
 been at the chateau of Morseiul, but that was 
 first on the occasion of a dangerous illness of 
 the Countess, the mother of Count Albert, and 
 then, on the commencement of those encroach- 
 ments upon the rights of the Huguenots, which 
 had now been some time in progress. 
 
 The Counts of Morseiul, however, both 
 father and son, visited him often. The first 
 he had regarded well nigh as a brother; the 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 107 
 
 latter lie looked upon almost in the light of 
 a son. He loved their conversation from its 
 sincerity, its candour, and its vigour. The ex- 
 perience of the old Count, which came united 
 with none of the hardness of heart and feelinsr 
 which experience too often brings ; the fresh- 
 ness of mind, the fanciful enthusiasms of the 
 younger nobleman, alike interested, pleased, 
 and attached him. With both there were points 
 of immediate communication, by which his 
 mind entered instantly into the thoughts and 
 feelings of theirs ; and he felt throughout every 
 fresh conversation with them, that he was 
 dealing with persons worthy of communication 
 with him, both by brightness and elevation of 
 intellect, by earnest energy of character, by 
 virtue, honour, and uprightness, and by the 
 rare ""em of unchano^eable truth. 
 
 It may well be supposed, then, that he rose to 
 meet the young Count deMorseiul, of whose re- 
 turn to his own domains he had not been made 
 aware, with a smile of unmixed satisfaction. 
 
 " Welcome, my dear Albert," he said, ad- 
 dressing him by the name which he had used 
 towards him from childhood ; " welcome back 
 to your own dwelling and your own people. 
 How have you fared in the wars ? How 
 
103 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 have you fared in perilous camps and in the 
 field, and in the still more perilous court ? And 
 how long is it since you returned to Morseiul ?" 
 
 " 1 have fared well, dear friend," replied the 
 Count, " in all ; have had some opportunity of 
 serving the king, and have received more 
 thanks than those services deserved. In regard 
 to the court, where I could neither serve him 
 nor myself, nor any one else, I have escaped its 
 perils this year, by obtaining permission to 
 come straight from the army to Morseiul, 
 without visiting either Paris or Versailles ; and 
 now, as to your last question, when I arrived, I 
 would say but yesterday afternoon, were it not 
 that you would, I know, thank me for coming 
 to see you so speedily, when in truth I only in- 
 tended to come to-morrow, had not some cir- 
 cumstances, not so pleasant as I could wish, 
 though not so bad as I fear may follow, brought 
 me hither, to consult with you to-day." 
 
 A slight cloud came over the old man's coun- 
 tenance as his younger companion spoke. 
 
 " Is the difficulty in which you seek counsel, 
 Albert," he demanded, *' in your own house- 
 hold, or in the household of our suffering 
 church?" 
 
 " Alas," replied the Count, " it is in the latter, 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 109 
 
 my excellent friend ; had it been in my own 
 household, unless some urgent cause impelled 
 me, I should not have thus troubled you." 
 
 " I feared so, I feared so," replied the old 
 man; " I have heard something of these matters 
 of late : — so they w^ill not leave us in repose ! " 
 And as he spoke he rose from the chair he had 
 resumed after welcoming the Count, and paced 
 tlie room backwards and forwards more than 
 once. 
 
 " It is in vain," he said at length, casting 
 himself back into his seat, " to let such thinjrs 
 agitate me. The disposal of all is in a better 
 and a firmer hand than mine. ' On this rock 
 will I found my church, and the gates of hell 
 shall not prevail against it ! ' So said our divine 
 Master; and I need not tell you, Albert of 
 Morseiul, that when he said, ' on this rock,' he 
 meant on the rock of faith, and did not mean 
 the trumpery juggle, the buffoon-like playing 
 on the name of Peter, which the disciples of a 
 corrupt sect would attribute to him. He has 
 founded his church upon the rock of faith, and 
 thereon do I build my hope; for I cannot but 
 see that the enemy are preparing the spear and 
 making ready the bow against us. Whether it 
 be God's will that we shall resist, as we have 
 
110 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 done in former times, and be enabled, though 
 but a handful amongst a multitude, to smite 
 the enemies and the perverters of our pure 
 religion, or whether we shall be called upon to 
 die as martyrs, and seal our faith by the pour- 
 ing out of our blood, leaving another ensample 
 to the elect that come after us, will be pointed 
 out by the circumstances in which we are placed. 
 But I see clearly that the sword is out to smite 
 us, and we must either resist or endure." 
 
 "It is precisely on that point," replied the 
 Count, " that I came to consult with you. Mea- 
 sures of a strong, a harassing, and of an un- 
 just nature, are taking place against us, because 
 we will not say we believe that which we are 
 sure is false, and follow doctrines which our 
 soul repudiates. Did I hope, my excellent 
 friend, that the matter would stop here ; did I 
 expect that such measures of petty annoyance 
 as I have heard proclaimed in the town of Mor- 
 seiul to-day, or any thing, indeed, similar to those 
 measures, would be the final end and limit of 
 the attack upon our liberties and our faith, I 
 should be most anxious to calm the minds of 
 the people, to persuade them to endure rather 
 than to resist, and to remember that patience 
 will cure many things : I should ask you, I 
 
THE HUGUENOT. IH 
 
 should beseech even you, plighted as you are 
 to support the cause of truth and righteous- 
 ness, to aid me in my efforts, and to remember 
 at what an awful price indemnity must be 
 bought; to remember how fearful, how terrible, 
 must be the scenes through which we wade to 
 the attainment of those equal rights which 
 should be granted even without our seeking 
 them." 
 
 " And I would aid you ! and I would remem- 
 ber ! " exclahued the pastor, grasping his hand, 
 "so, help me the God of my trust, Albert of 
 Morseiul," he continued more vehemently, '' as 
 I have ever avoided for long years every cause 
 of strife and dissension, every matter of offence 
 thrown in my way by those who would perse- 
 cute us. Nay more, far more ; when my coun- 
 sels have been sought, when my advice has been 
 required, the words that I have spoken have 
 always been pacific, not alone peaceful in sound, 
 but peaceful in spirit and in intent, and peace- 
 ful in every tendency ; I have counselled sub- 
 mission where I might have stirred up war ; I 
 have advised mild means and supplications, when 
 the time for successful resistance was pointed 
 out both by just cause for bitter indignation, 
 and by the embarrassment of our enemies in 
 
112 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 consequence of their over ambition : and now 1 
 tell thee, Albert, I tell thee with pain and ap- 
 prehension, that I doubt, that I much doubt, 
 whether in so doing I have acted right or wrong; 
 whether, by such timid counsels, the happy mo- 
 ment has not been suffered to slip; whether 
 our enemies, more wise in their generation than 
 we are, have not taken advantage of our for- 
 bearance, have not waited till they themselves 
 were in every way prepared, and are now ready 
 to execute the iniquitous designs which have 
 only been suspended in consequence of am- 
 bitious efforts in other quarters." 
 
 "I fear, indeed, that it is so," replied the 
 young Count; "but, nevertheless, neither you 
 nor any other person has cause to reproach him- 
 self for such conduct. Forbearance, even if 
 taken advantage of by insidious enemies, must 
 always be satisfactory to one's own heart." 
 
 " I know not, I know not," replied the old 
 man. " In my early days, Albert, these hands 
 have grasped the sword in defence of my re- 
 ligion ; and we were then taught that resistance 
 to the will of those bigots and tyrants who 
 would crush out the la"st spark of the pure wor- 
 ship of God, and substitute in its place the 
 gross idolatry which disfigures this land, was a 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 113 
 
 duty to the Author of our faith. We were 
 taught that resistance was not optional, but 
 compulsory; and that to our children, and to our 
 brethren, and to our ancestors, we owed the 
 same determined, persevering, uncompromising 
 efforts that were rec^uired from us by tlie service 
 of the Lord likewise. We were taught that we 
 should never surrender, that we should never 
 hesitate, that we should never compromise, till 
 the liberty of the true reformed church of 
 France was established upon a sure and perma- 
 nent basis, or tlie last drop of blood in the 
 veins of her saints was poured out into the cup 
 of martyrdom. Sucli were the doctrines, Albert, 
 that were taught in my youth, such were the 
 doctrines under which 1 myself became a hum- 
 ble soldier of the cross. But, alas, lulled with the 
 rest of my brethren into a fatal security, think- 
 ing that no farther infraction of our liberties 
 would take place, believing that we should always 
 be permitted to worship the God of our salva- 
 tion according to the dictates of our own con- 
 science — perhaps even believing, Albert, that 
 some degree of contumely and persecution, some 
 stigma attached to the poor name of Huguenot, 
 might be beneficial, if not necessary, in our frail 
 condition as mortal men, to be a bond of union 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
114 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 amongst us to maintain our religion in its pu- 
 rit}', and to keep alive the flame of zeal; — be- 
 lieving all this, I have not bestirred myself to 
 resist small encroachments, I have even coun- 
 selled others to pass them over without notice. 
 Now, however, I am convinced that it is the 
 intention, perhaps not of the King, for men 
 say that he is kind and clement, but of the 
 base men that surround him, gradually to sap 
 the foundations of our church, and cast it 
 down altogether. I have seen it in every act 
 that has been taking place of late, have marked 
 it in every proceeding of the court ; and, 
 though slow and insidious, covered with base 
 pretexts and pitiful quibbles, the progress of 
 our enemies has been sure, and I fear that it 
 may be too late to close the door against them : 
 I could recall all their acts one by one, and the 
 summing up would clearly show, that the idola- 
 trous priesthood of this popish land are de- 
 termined not to suffer a purer faith to remain 
 any longer as an offence and reproach unto 
 them." 
 
 «' I much wish," replied the Count earnestly, 
 «'that you would put down, in order, these en- 
 croachments. I have been long absent, serv- 
 ing in the field, where my faith has, of course. 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 115 
 
 been no obstacle, and where we have little dis- 
 cussion of such matters : but if I had them 
 clearly stated before me, I and the other Pro- 
 testant noblemen of France might draw up a 
 petition to the king, whose natural sense of 
 right is very strong, which would induce him 
 to do us justice " 
 
 The old man shook his head with a look of 
 melancholy doubt, but the Count immediately 
 added, repeating the words he had just used, 
 " to do us justice, or to make such a declara- 
 tion of his intentions, as to enable us to take 
 measures to meet the exi";encv of the mo- 
 ment." 
 
 " Willingly, most willingly," said Claude de 
 I'Estang, " will I tell you all that is done, and 
 has been doing, by our enemies. I will tell you 
 also, Albert, all the false and absurd charges 
 that they urge against us to justify their own 
 iniquitous dealings towards us. We will con- 
 sider the whole together calmly and dispassion- 
 ately, and take counsel as to what may best be 
 done. God forbid that I should see the blood 
 of my fellow Christians shed ; but God forbid, 
 also, that 1 should see his holy church over- 
 thrown." 
 
 '• You speak of charges against us, sir," said 
 I 2 
 
116 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 the Count, with some surprise in his counte- 
 nance: " I knew not that even malice itself could 
 find or forfje a charoje a^^ainst the Huguenots of 
 France. At the court and in the camp there 
 is no charge; tell me what we have done in 
 the provinces to give even a foundation for a 
 charge." 
 
 " Nothing, my young friend," replied the 
 clergyman ; " we have done nothing but defend 
 the immunities secured unto us by the hand of 
 the very king who now seeks to snatch them 
 from us. We have not even defended, as perhaps 
 we should, the unalienable privileges given us 
 by a greater king. No ; the insidious plan of 
 our deceitful enemies has been to attack us 
 first, and then to lay resistance to our charge 
 as a crime. Take but a few instances. In the 
 towns of Tonnay and of Privas, the reformed re- 
 ligion was not only the dominant religion, but 
 the sole religion, and had been so for near a 
 century; the inhabitants were all Protestants, 
 tranquil, quiet, industrious. There were no re- 
 ligious contentions, there were no jealous feuds, 
 when some one, prompted by the fiend, whis- 
 pered to the crown that means should be taken 
 to establish, in those places, the authority of the 
 idolatrous church ; that opportunity should be 
 
' THE HUGUENOT. 117 
 
 given for making converts from the pure to the 
 corrupted faith ; that in the end the pillage of 
 the Protestant congregations should be permit- 
 ted to the Romish priesthood. An order was 
 instantly given for opening a Romish church in 
 a place where there were no Papists, and for 
 preaching against our creed in the midst of its 
 sincere followers. The church was accordingly 
 opened ; the singing of Latin masses, and the 
 exhibition of idolatrous processions commenced 
 where such things had not been known in the 
 memory of man : a few boys hooted, and in- 
 stantly there was raised a cry, that the Romish 
 priests were interrupted in their functions, that 
 the ceremonies of the church were opposed by 
 the whole mass of Huguenots. Y/hat was the 
 result ? The parliament of Paris gave authenti- 
 city to the calumny, by granting letters of pro- 
 tection to the intruding clergy; and then, taking 
 its own act as proof of the guilt of the Hugue- 
 nots, commanded our temples to be pulled down, 
 and the free exercise of our religion in that 
 place to be abolished. This was the case at 
 Tonnay ; and if at the same time the decree, 
 which announced its fate to that city, had 
 boldl}^ forbidden our worship throughout the 
 land, we might have displayed some union, 
 I 3 
 
118 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 and made some successful resistance. But our 
 enemies were too wise to .give us such a gene- 
 ral motive : they struck an isolated blow here, 
 and an isolated blow there ; they knew man's 
 selfishness; they foresaw how apathetic we 
 should be to the injuries of our fellows ; and 
 they were right. The Huguenots of France 
 made no effort in favour of those who suffered ; 
 some never inquired into the question at all, 
 and believed that the people of Tonnay had 
 brought the evil on their own heads; some 
 shrugged the indifferent shoulder, and thought 
 it not worth while to trouble the peace of the 
 whole community for the sake of a single small 
 town. Had it been your town of Morseiul it 
 would have been tlie same, for such has been 
 the case with Privas, with Dexodun, with Melle, 
 with Chevreux, with Vitrc, and full fifty more; 
 and not one Protestant has moved to support 
 the rights of his brother. Whenever, indeed, 
 any thing has occurred affecting the whole body, 
 then men have flocked to us, demanding ad- 
 vice and assistance ; they have talked of open 
 resistance, of immediate war, of defending their 
 rights, of opposing further aggressions; but I 
 have ever seen, Albert, that, mingled with a few 
 determined and noble spirits, there have been 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 119 
 
 many selfish, many indifferent; and I know that, 
 unless some strong and universal bond of union 
 be given them, some great common motive be 
 afforded, thousands will fall off in the hour of 
 need, and leave their defenders in the hands of 
 the enemy. For this reason, as well as for 
 many others, I have always urged peace where 
 peace can be obtained; but I see now such 
 rapid progress made against us, that I tremble 
 between two terrible results." 
 
 The young Count gazed thoughtfully in the 
 pastor's face for a few moments ere he replied. 
 " I fear," he said at length, " that we have net 
 yet a sufficient motive to bind all men, as is 
 most needful in the strong assertion of a 
 common cause. — Heaven forbid that we should 
 do or even think of aught disloyal or rebellious ; 
 but I doubt much, though the new injurj- we 
 have received is gross, that it will furnish a 
 sufficient motive to unite all our brethren in 
 one general representation to the king of our 
 general grievances. Yet there are many points 
 in the edict I heard read to-day wounding to 
 the vanity of influential men amongst us, and 
 that motive will often move them when others 
 fail. But listen, and tell me waiat you think. 
 These were the chief heads of the proclaraa- 
 I 4 
 
120 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 tion :" and lie Ment on to recapitulate all 
 
 that be had heard, the old man listening with 
 attention while he spoke. 
 
 " I fear there is no bond of union here," 
 replied the pastor, commenting upon some of 
 the heads which the young Count had given 
 him ; " rather, my good young friend, matter 
 for dissension. They have cunningly thrown 
 in more than one apple of discord to divide the 
 mayors of the Protestant towns from their peo- 
 ple, ay, and even to make the pastors odious to 
 the flock." 
 
 " Let us, however,'* said the Count, " en- 
 deavour to act as unitedly as possible — let us 
 keep a wary eye upon the proceedings of our 
 enemies — let us be prepared to seize the fit 
 moment for opposition, that we may seize it 
 before it be necessary to resist in a manner that 
 may be imputed to us as disloyal. Doubtless, 
 at the assembling of the states of the province, 
 ■which will take place shortly, there will be a 
 great number of the Protestant nobles present, 
 and I will endeavour to bring them to a general 
 conference, in the course of which we may per- 
 haps " 
 
 " Hark!" said the old man, "there is the 
 noise of a horse's feet;" and the next instant 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 121 
 
 a loncl ringing of the bell was heard, followed 
 b\' the sound of a voice in the passage speaking 
 to the maid servant in jocular and flicetious 
 tones, with which the young Count was well 
 acquainted. 
 
 " It is my rascally valet, Riquet," he said. 
 " He's always thrusting himself where lie has 
 110 business." 
 
 " I wonder you retain him in your service," 
 said the pastor; ''I have marked him in your 
 father's time, and have heard you both say that 
 he is a knave." 
 
 " And yet he loves me," said the young 
 Count; " and I do in truth believe would sooner 
 injure himself than me." 
 
 The old man shook his head with an expres- 
 sion of doubt ; but the Count went on : " How- 
 ever, I did not wish him to know that I came 
 here to-night, and still less should wish him to 
 be acc|uainted with the nature of my errand. 
 He is a Papist, you know, and may suspect, 
 perhap?, that we are holding a secret council 
 with others. We had better, therefore, give him 
 admittance at once." 
 
 There was a small silver bell stood on the 
 table beside the pastor ; and, as the maid did 
 not come in, he rang it, inquired who it was 
 
122 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 that had arrived when she did make her ap- 
 pearance, and then ordered the valet to be 
 admitted. 
 
 " What brought you here, Maitre Jerome ?'* 
 demanded the young Count, somewhat sternly, 
 as the valet entered on his tiptoes, with a look 
 of supreme self-satisfaction. 
 
 " Why, my lord," replied the man, "scarcely 
 had you set out when there arrived a courier 
 from the Due de Rouvre, bringing you a 
 packet. He was asked to leave it, as you w^ere 
 absent; but he said it was of vast importance, 
 and that he was to get your answer from your 
 own mouth: so he would give it to nobody. 
 I took him into what used to be called the page's 
 room, and made him drink deep of chateau 
 Thierry, picked his pocket of the packet while 
 he was looking out of the window, and seeing 
 that he was tired to death, commended him to 
 his bed, with a night cap of good liquor, pro- 
 mismg to wake him as soon as you returned, 
 and then set T with the packet to seek you, 
 Monsieur le Comte."y 
 
 " And pray what was the object of all this 
 trickery?'* demanded the Count. " If you be 
 not careful, Maitre Jerome, you will place your 
 neck in a cord some day." 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 123 
 
 " So my mother used to say," replied tlie 
 man, with cool effrontery ; " but I only wished 
 to serve your lordship, and knowing that there 
 were difficult matters in hand, thought you 
 might like to read the packet first, in order to 
 be prepared to give a ready answer. We could 
 easily seal up the letter again, and slip it into 
 the courier's jerkin — which the poor fool put 
 under his head when he went to sleep, thinking 
 to secure the packet that was already gone. He 
 would then present it to you in due form, and 
 you give your answer without any apparent 
 forethouo'ht." 
 
 The Count could not refrain from turning a 
 smiling look upon the pastor, who, however, 
 bent dov.n his eyes and shook his head witli a 
 disapproving sigh. 
 
 The Count at the same time tore open the 
 packet w^hich the servant had handed to him, 
 with a ruthless roughness, that made good 
 Jerome Riquet start, and cry " Oh ! " with an 
 expression of pain upon his countenance, to se^ 
 not the slightest possibility left of ever patching 
 up the letter again, so as to make it appear as 
 if it had never been opened. 
 
 " And I suppose. Master Jerome," continued 
 the Count, while making his way into the 
 
124 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 packet, " that you took tlie trouble of watching 
 me when I set out this afternoon." 
 
 *' Heaven forbid, sir," rephed the man ; " that 
 would have been both very impertinent, and an 
 unnecessary waste of time and attention, as I 
 knew quite well Mdiere you were going. As soon 
 as you had been out to hear the proclamation 
 and keep the people quiet, and came home and 
 sat with the shuttlecock Marquis de Hericourt, 
 and then ordered your horse, I said to myself, 
 and I told Henriot, ' his lordship is gone to con- 
 sult with Monsieur Claude de I'Estang; and 
 where, indeed, could he go so well as to one 
 who is respected by the Catholics almost as much 
 as by the Huguenots ? Whom could he apply to 
 so wisely as to one whose counsels are always 
 judicious, always peaceful, and alvvays benevo- 
 lent?' " and having finished this piece of oratory, 
 Riquet — perceiving that his master, busy in 
 the letter, gave him no attention — made a low 
 but somewhat grotesque reverence to the good 
 pastor, bending his head, rounding his back, 
 and elevating his shoulders, while his long thin 
 legs stuck out below, so that he assumed very 
 much the appearance of a sleeping crane. 
 
 The pastor, however, shook his head, reply- 
 ing gravely, ^" My good friend, I have lived 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 125 
 
 more than sixty-five years in the world, and 
 yet I trust age has not diminished the intellect 
 which experience may have tended to improve.'* 
 
 By the time he had said this the young 
 Count had read to the end of the short letter 
 which he had received, and put it before the 
 pastor. 
 
 " This is kind," he said, " and courteous of 
 my good friend the Duke, who, though I have 
 not seen him for many years, still retains his 
 regard for our family. Jerome, you may re- 
 tire," he added, " and wait for me without. This 
 letter which you have brought is of no import- 
 ance whatever, a mere letter of civility, so that 
 either you or the Duke's courier have lied." 
 
 " Oh, it was the courier, sir," replied the 
 valet, with his usual quiet impudence, " it was 
 the courier of course, otherwise there is no 
 truth in the old proverb, CJieat like a valet, lie 
 like a courier. I always keep to my own de- 
 partment, sir;" and so saying he marched out 
 of the room. 
 
 In the mean time Claude de I'Estang had 
 read the letter, which invited the young Count 
 to visit the Due de Rouvre at Poitiers, and take 
 up his abode in the governor's house some days 
 before the meeting of the states. It went on 
 
126 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 to express great regard for the young nobleman 
 himself, and high veneration for his father's 
 memory; and then, glancing at the religious 
 differences existing in the province, and the 
 measures which had been lately taken against the 
 Huguenots, it went on to state that the writer 
 was anxious to receive the private advice and 
 opinion of the young Count as to the best means 
 of extinguishing all irritation on such subjects. 
 
 " Were this from any other man than the 
 Due de Rouvre," said the pastor, "I should 
 say that it was specious and intended to mis- 
 lead ; but the Due has always shown himself 
 favourable to the Protestants as a politician, 
 and I have some reason to believe is not un- 
 favourable to their doctrines in his heart: but 
 go, my son, go as speedily as possible, and God 
 grant that your efforts may conclude with 
 peace." 
 
 After a few more words of the same tenor, 
 the pastor and his young friend separated, and 
 the Count and his valet, mounting their horses, 
 took their way back towards the chateau, with 
 the shades of night beginning to gather quickly 
 about them. 
 
1:27 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 UNEXPECTED COMPANIONS. 
 
 The two horsemen rode to the village at a 
 quick rate, but then slackened their pace, and 
 passed through the single little street at a walk. 
 The scene, however, was now changed; the 
 children were no longer playing before the 
 doors ; from out of the windows of some of the 
 cottages streamed forth the reddish light of a 
 resin candle; from others was heard issuing the 
 sound of a psalm, sung before the inhabitants 
 retired to rest ; and at the doors of others again 
 appeared a peasant returned late from the toil 
 of the day, and — as is so natural to the heart of 
 man — pausing in the thickening twilight to take 
 one moi'e look of the world, before the dark- 
 ness of night shut it out altogether. A star or 
 tvro was beginning to appear in the sky ; the 
 bats were flittinir hither and thither throu"jh the 
 dusk ; and, though it was still warm and mild, 
 every thing betokened the rapid approach of 
 night. 
 
128 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 From the village the Count rode on, re- 
 lapsing, after having spoken a few words to his 
 servant, into the same meditative mood which 
 had possessed him on his way to Anron. He 
 hastened not his pace, and afier he had gone 
 about three miles complete darkness surrounded 
 him. There was no moon in the sk}^; tlie road 
 by which he had come, steep, stony, and irre- 
 gular, required full light to render it safe for 
 his horse's knees ; and, after the animal had 
 tripped more than once, the Count struck into a 
 path to the right, which led by a little detour 
 into the high road from Paris to Poitiers. 
 
 High roads, however, in those days were very 
 different things from those which they have now 
 become ; and there is scarcely a parish road in 
 England, or a commercial road in France, 
 which is not wider, more open, and better in 
 every respect than the high road n-e speak of 
 was at that time. When he had gained it, 
 however, the Count went on more easily till he 
 arrived at the spot where it entered one of the 
 large woods which supplied the inhabitants with 
 fuel in a country unproductive of coal. There, 
 however, he met with an obstruction which he 
 had not at all anticipated. As he approaol;ed 
 the outskirts of the wood, there was a sudden 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 129 
 
 flash to the right, and a ball whistled across the 
 Count's path, but without hitting either himself 
 or his servant. 
 
 He was too much accustomed to scenes in 
 which such winged messengers of death were 
 common, to be startled by the shot, but merely 
 muttering to himself, " This is unpleasant; 
 we must put a stop to this so near Morseiul,'* 
 he considered whether it would be better for 
 him to push his horse forward or to go back 
 upon the open road. But the matter was 
 settled for him by others ; for he was sur- 
 rounded in a moment by five or six men, who 
 speedily pulled him off his horse, though he 
 made no effort to resist where resistance he saw 
 would be vain, and then demanded his name in 
 an imperative and threatening manner. He 
 heard, however, at the same time, the galloping 
 of the horse of Jerome Riquet, who had re- 
 mained some twenty or thirty yards behind 
 him ; and perfectly certain, therefore, that very 
 efficient aid would soon be brought to deliver 
 him, he determined to procrastinate as far as 
 possible, in the hopes of taking some of the 
 plunderers who had established themselves so 
 near his dwelling. 
 
 " I cannot see," he said, "what your business 
 
 ^'OL. I. K 
 
130 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 can be with my name; if it is my money that 
 you want, any that I have upon my person you 
 can take. — My good friend, you will oblige 
 me by not holding my collar so tight; it gives 
 me a feeling of strangulation, which, as you 
 may perhaps some day know, is not very plea- 
 sant." 
 
 The man who held him, and who seemed 
 the principal of the group, did not appear to be 
 at all offended at being reminded of what might 
 be the end of his exploits, but let go his collar, 
 laughing and saying, "You are merry! how- 
 ever, your money we shall take as our own 
 right. It is fair toll you know ; and your name 
 we must have too, as being officers of the 
 King's highway, if not of the King, we have 
 certainly a right to ask for passports." 
 
 " Heaven forbid that I should deny any of 
 your rights," replied the Count ; " my money 
 I will give you with all my heart : but my 
 name is my own, and I do not choose to give 
 that to any one." 
 
 " Well, then, we must take you where we can 
 see your face," replied the other. ** Then if 
 we know you, well and good, you shall go on ; 
 if we do not know you, we shall find means to 
 make you speak more clearly, I will warrant.'* 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 131 
 
 " He is one of them ! he is one of them, be 
 you sure," replied a second voice. "I would tie 
 him to a tree and shoot him at once out of the 
 way." 
 
 "No, no," rejoined the first; "I think I 
 know his tongue. It is Maitre Nicolas, the 
 notary — not a bad man in his way. Bring him 
 along, and his horse too ; we shall soon see." 
 
 Though the Count, perhaps, might not con- 
 sider himself flattered by being taken for Maitre 
 Nicolas the notary, he began to perceive that 
 there was something more in the conduct of 
 these men than the common desire of plunder, 
 some personal motive either of revenge or en- 
 mity ; and, as he well knew that he was gene- 
 rally loved throughout the neighbourhood, he 
 had no apprehensions as to the result regarding 
 himself. He was anxious, however, to see more 
 of his captors' proceedings, and therefore ac- 
 companied them without any effort to undeceive 
 them as to who he was. They led him along for 
 about a quarter of a mile down the high road 
 through the wood, then struck into a narrower 
 path to the right, only in use for wood-carts, 
 and then again took a foot path, which brought 
 them to a spot where a bright light was seen 
 glimmering through the trees before them. It 
 K 2 
 
13*2 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 was evident that some wider road than that 
 which they were following at the moment led 
 also to the point to which it tended, for the 
 sound of horses' feet was heard in that direc- 
 tion, and a creaking, as if of some heavy car- 
 riage wheels. 
 
 " There is brown Keroual," said one of the 
 men, "come back from the other end of the 
 wood, and I '11 bet you two louis to two deniers 
 that he's got hold of them. Don't you hear 
 the wheels ? I think we might let you go," he 
 added, turning towards the Count, and trying 
 to get a full glance of his face by the light that 
 flashed through the leaves. 
 
 At that moment, however, one of his compa- 
 nions replied, "Take him on, take him on! 
 You can't tell v/hat wheels they are. They 
 may be sending away those women." 
 
 This seemed to decide the matter somewhat 
 to the satisfaction of Albert de Morseiul, who 
 was not a little anxious to witness what was 
 going on; and the men accordingly led him 
 forward through the bushes, which partially 
 obstructed the path, till coming suddenly to an 
 open space under a high sandy bank, he found 
 himself in the midst of a scene, upon which 
 we must pause for a moment. 
 
THE HUGUENOT. lOS 
 
 There was a large wood fire in tne midst of 
 tlie open space; and both to the right and 
 left led away a small road, deeply channelled 
 by the wheels of sand carts. The high bank 
 above was crowned with the fine trees of the 
 wood, amongst the branches and stems of which 
 the light of the fire and of one or two torches 
 lost itself,* while the fuller light below shone 
 upon three or four curious groups of human 
 beings. One of these groups was gathered to- 
 gether near the fire, and consisted of seven 
 men, some lying down, some standing, all of 
 them well armed, and some of them with car- 
 bines in their hands ; their dress in a great de- 
 gree resembled that of the English soldiery at 
 the time of Cromwell, though the usurper had 
 been dead, and the fashion of such clothing 
 gone out, about twenty years. A few of them 
 had their faces bare, but the greater part had 
 somediing drawn over their countenance so as 
 completely to disguise it. In general, this 
 covering was a mere piece of silk or cloth with 
 slits made for the eyes, but in two instances a 
 regular mask appeared. 
 
 At a little distance from the fire, farther under 
 the bank, sat two ladies, one richly liabited in 
 the taste of that day, and with the upper part of 
 K 3 
 
134 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 the face covered by the common black velvet 
 riding mask, the other dressed more simply, but 
 still handsomely, v^ith a large watch hanging by 
 her side, and two or three rings still upon her 
 hands, notwithstanding the company in which 
 she was found. There were some large grey 
 cloaks spread upon the ground beneath them, 
 to protect them apparently from the damp of 
 the ground ; and standing near, leaning on a 
 musket, apparently as a guard over them, was 
 one of the same fraternity that appeared by the 
 side of the fire. 
 
 At some distance up the road to the right, a 
 carriage v/as seen stationary, with the horses 
 taken out and cropping the grass by the side ; 
 but the eyes of the whole party under the bank 
 were turned to the other side, where, at the en- 
 trance of the road into the open space, appeared 
 a second carriage drawn by four mules, which 
 had just been led up by a party of the banditti, 
 who were the first that had appeared mounted. 
 
 From the door of the vehicle, which was now 
 brought to a halt, its tenants w^re in the very 
 act of descending, with fear and unwillingness 
 written upon their countenances. The two first 
 that came forth were ecclesiastics of the Catholic 
 church ; the first, a man who might well be 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 13^ 
 
 considered as remarkably ugly, had his counte« 
 nance not been expressive, and its expression 
 indicative of considerable talent. The second 
 was a much handsomer man in every respect, 
 but with a keen, sly, fox-like aspect, and a con- 
 stant habit of biting his nether lip, of which he 
 could not divest himself, even at a moment 
 when, to judge by his countenance, he was pos- 
 sessed by extraordinary fear. After them came 
 another man, dressed as a layman, one or tv/o 
 domestics, and a fat inferior priest, with a dirty 
 and a greasy countenance, full of nothing but 
 large black eyes and dull stupidity. 
 
 While they were thus making their unwilling 
 exit from the carriage, several of those who had 
 brought them thither were mounted upon dif^ 
 ferent parts of the vehicle, busily cutting ofi> 
 opening, and emptying various valises, trunk- 
 mails, and other contrivances for conveying 
 luggage. 
 
 The attention of the other actors in the scene 
 was so much taken up by this group, that na 
 one seemed to notice the arrival of the party 
 which brouo'ht the Count thither; and though 
 the man who had led it had resumed a grasp of 
 his collar, as if to demonstrate that the Count 
 was the captive of his bow and spear, he was 
 K 4 
 
]36 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 himself so intensely occupied in looking at the 
 proceedings round the carriage, that he paused 
 close to the wood for several minutes. At 
 length, however, he recollected himself, and, by 
 advancing two or three steps with those that 
 followed, called the attention of the rest from 
 the carriage and its ejected tenants to the new 
 captive that had been brought in. The light 
 flashed full upon the Count as the man held 
 him; but the moment the eyes of the group 
 around the fire were turned upon him, several 
 voices exclaimed in a tone of surprise and con- 
 sternation, " The Count ! The Count ! The 
 Count de Morseiul ! " 
 
 No sooner did the first of the ecclesiastics, 
 who had descended from the carriage, hear the 
 exclamation, than he turned his eyes in that 
 way also, ran forward, and, catching the Count 
 by the hand, exclaimed, " Monsieur de Mor- 
 seiul, my dear friend, I claim your protection. 
 These men threaten to murder me ! " 
 
 " Monsieur Pelisson," replied the Count, " I 
 greatly grieve that I can give you no pro- 
 tection. I am a prisoner to these men, as you 
 see, myself, and, were I not of another creed, 
 might, for aught I know, have to apply to you 
 to shrive me ! for they have threatened to tie 
 me to a tree, and shoot me likewise." 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 137 
 
 " Good God ! this is very horrible," cried 
 Pelisson, in utter terror and consternation. 
 *' Pray, Monsieur de St. Helie," he exclaimed, 
 turning to the other ecclesiastic who followed, 
 " Pray, exhort these men — you are so eloquent! " 
 
 " I — I — I — I can exhort nobody," stam- 
 mered forth the other, trembling in every limb. 
 
 A change, however, was working itself in 
 their favour; for the moment that the Count's 
 name had been publicly announced, a great de- 
 gree of agitation and movement had taken place 
 amongst the robbers. Those who had been ly- 
 ing down started up, those who had been plun- 
 dering the carriage abandoned their pillage, 
 and joined their companions by the fire ; the 
 man who had grasped the Count let go his hold, 
 as if he had burnt his hand, and a rapid con- 
 sultation evidently took place amongst the rest, 
 which the Count himself was not a little sur- 
 prised to see, as, amongst those whose faces 
 were uncovered, there was not a single indivi- 
 dual whom he could recognise as having ever 
 beheld before. 
 
 The movement of Pelisson, however, and the 
 words which passed between him and the Count 
 again called their attention in that direction 
 from the consultation which was going on. Two 
 
138 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 men, both masked, separated themselves from 
 the rest, one a very tall and powerful man, 
 somewhat richly though not tastefully dressed; 
 the other a short, broad-made, sturdy looking 
 person, who only wanted the accompaniment of 
 a bandoleer over his buff coat to be a perfect 
 representation of the parliamentary soldier of 
 Great Britain. The lesser man took upon 
 himself to be spokesman, though they both ad- 
 vanced direct towards the Count. 
 
 " We are sorry for what has happened, 
 Monsieur de Morseiul," he said; "we had not 
 the slightest intention of disturbing you upon 
 3^our road, and it was this fellow's stupidness and 
 he darkness of the night that has caused the 
 mistake. I have only to say, as I said before, 
 that we are sorry for it, and that you are quite 
 at liberty to go w^hen you like." 
 
 The Count's determination was taken in a 
 moment. " I am happy to hear," he said, " that 
 you are sorry for one offence at least against 
 the laws of the country ; but, in regard to my 
 going, if I go, 1 have not the slightest intention 
 of going alone. I am not a person to abandon 
 my companions in distress, and I must insist 
 upon some of the parties here present being 
 liberated as well as myself." 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 139 
 
 Pelisson looked at him with an imploring 
 glance; the Abbe de St. Helie elapsed his hands 
 together, and gazed anxiously in his face; while 
 the man to whom he had spoken replied in a 
 surly tone, — 
 
 " We would fain treat you well, Sir Count, 
 and do you no harm; so go your way in God's 
 name, and do not meddle with what does not 
 concern you, for fear worse come of it. You 
 are not leading the forlorn hope at Maestricht 
 now, remember.'* 
 
 " Oh !" said the Count, with a meaning nod 
 of the head, as if the man's allusion had let him 
 into some secret ; but ere he could reply fur- 
 ther, the taller and more athletic of the two 
 whispered a few words to his companion in a 
 low voice, and the other, after a moment's pause 
 of hesitation, turned once more to the Count 
 and said, *' Well, sir, what is it you would have? 
 We respect and love you, and would do much 
 to please you. What do you demand ? " 
 
 " In the first place,'* replied the Count de 
 Morseiul, speaking very slowly and distinctly, 
 and using as many words as he possibly could, 
 knowing that every moment was something 
 gained by bringing succour nearer ; " in the 
 first place, as I am sure that you are too much 
 
140 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 men of honour, and too courteous in your nature 
 
 a great deal — " 
 
 " Come, come. Sir Count," replied the man, 
 interrupting him, " cut your story short. We 
 have honour of our own particular kind; but 
 as to our nature being courteous, it is not. We 
 are neither fools, babies, nor frequenters of the 
 painted chambers of Paris, but freemen of the 
 forest. What I ask is, what do you demand?'* 
 
 " In the first place," replied the Count, taking 
 a step forward towards the spot where the two 
 ladies were sitting, and pointing in that direction 
 with his hand, " in the first place, I demand 
 that you should set those two ladies at liberty !" 
 " They might have been at liberty long ago," 
 replied the man, " if they had chosen to say 
 whence they came and whither they were going. 
 However, go they shall, as you ask it; but I 
 should like to have those rings and that watch 
 first." 
 
 " Fie," said the Count, " you surely would not 
 touch the trinkets. Their purses, I dare say, 
 have been taken already." 
 
 " Those were given up at first," replied the 
 man, " and we should have had the watch and 
 rings too if we had not been interrupted by 
 this other affair. Come, pretty one," he added. 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 141 
 
 turning to the younger of the two ladies, who 
 had both risen when they heard the intercession 
 that was made for them, and were gazing on the 
 young Count with eager anxiety, " come, let 
 us see if there be any diamonds amongst those 
 rings, for we must not let diamonds get out of 
 the forest. They are better than gold a great 
 deal." 
 
 Thus saying, he advanced towards her, and 
 took the small delicate beautiful fingers, c 
 which the rings appeared, in his rough grasp. 
 
 " I fear, lady," said the Count, who had fol- 
 lowed him, " that I cannot protect you farther. 
 We must feel grateful for your being permitted 
 to go at all." 
 
 " We owe you a deep debt of gratitude as it 
 is, sir," replied the elder lady; and the younger 
 added immediately, " indeed we do : but let 
 them take the rings," she continued, drawing 
 them from her fingers. — " All but one," she 
 added suddenly, " all but one." 
 
 " What, a wedding-ring," cried the man, with 
 a loud laugh, " or a lover's token, I suppose, 
 for I see no wedding-rino; here." 
 
 " No, sir," she said, drawing up her head 
 somewhat proudly, " but the gift of a mother 
 that loved me, and who is most dear to me still 
 
142 THE HUGUENO 
 
 in memory. Pray, let me keep it. This is the 
 ring." 
 
 " Why, that is worth all the rest," said the 
 man, looking at it. '* No, no, my pretty mis- 
 tress, we must have this." 
 
 The Count de Morseiul had stood by, some- 
 what pale, and with a manner which, for the 
 first time, betrayed some degree of agitation. 
 But he now interposed, seeing, by the trembling 
 of her hand, how much emotion the man's words 
 produced upon the young lady, though he 
 could not behold her countenance. 
 
 " What is the value of the ring?" he de- 
 manded of the man. 
 
 " Why, some twenty louis, I dare say," he 
 replied. 
 
 " Well, I will give you double the amount for 
 it," said the Count. " I have not the money 
 upon me, for your men have taken all I had ; 
 but you can trust me, and I will pay it to any 
 one whom you will send to the chateau of Mor- 
 seiul, and pledge my honour they shall come 
 and go in safety, and without inquiry." 
 
 " Your honour, my Lord Count, is worth the 
 city of Poitiers," replied the man. " There is 
 the ring," and he gave it into the Count's 
 hand. 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 143 
 
 Albert de Morseiul took it, and gazed at it 
 by the fire-light for a moment with some atten- 
 tion, and with some emotion. It was formed 
 of diamonds, and, according to a fashion com- 
 mon in that day, formed the initials, probably 
 of some proper name, C. S., surmounted by a 
 Count's coronet. 
 
 " Lady," he said, after he had looked at it, 
 ** this ring is almost as strong a temptation to 
 me as to our friend here. I long to keep it till 
 its fair owner, once more at liberty, may come 
 to claim it at my hands. That would be un- 
 generous, however, and so I suppose I must 
 give it back." 
 
 So saying, he replaced it on her finger, and, 
 with an air of courteous gallantry, raised the 
 small fair hand to his lips. She bent down 
 her head over her hand and his, as if to gaze at 
 the recovered ring, and he felt a warm drop 
 fall from the bright eyes that sparkled through 
 the mask upon it. 
 
 " And now," he said, turning to the man 
 who had acted as chief of the band, " and now 
 you will let the ladies depart." 
 
 " Yes," replied the man, " but one of our 
 people must drive them to the place where we 
 tied the lackeys to the trees." 
 
144 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 " They are safe, upon your honour, though?" 
 taid the Count. 
 
 " Upon my honour they are," answered the 
 man bluffly. " I should like to see the man that 
 would wag a finger at them when I say they 
 are free." 
 
 " Come then, quick," said the Count, turning 
 to the ladies ; " let us not lose the fortunate 
 moment ;" and he took her hand to lead her to 
 the carriage, which he had remarked standing 
 farther down the road. But both Pelisson and 
 St. Helie threw themselves in his way, exclaim- 
 ing aloud, " For God's sake do not leave us ! 
 For Heaven's sake do not abandon us !'* 
 
 " No, no," replied the Count. " My good 
 friends," he added, turning to the band, " pray 
 offer these good gentlemen no wrong, at least 
 till my return. Perhaps I can hit upon some 
 terms between you and them, and also tell you 
 a piece of news which will make you change 
 your determination." 
 
 " Not easily," said the leader ; " but we will 
 not harm them till you come back, if you are 
 only going to take the ladies to the carriage. 
 You, Stephen, drive it to the place where the 
 lackeys were left." 
 
 '• I will return instantly," said the Count, 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 145 
 
 and he led the younger lady on, the elder fol- 
 lowing. Till they reached the carriage, and 
 during a part of the time occupied in tying the 
 horses again to it, all were silent ; but at length 
 the younger lady ventured to say, in a low- 
 voice, — 
 
 " How can I ever thank you, Monsieur de 
 Morseiul ?" 
 
 The Count did not reply to the question, but 
 he said, as he was handing her in, — 
 
 " Am I not right ? Have we not met before?" 
 
 " It is years ago," she said, in the same low 
 tone; " but," she added the moment after, just 
 as the man was about to drive away, " we shall 
 meet again, and if we do, say nothing of this 
 meeting, I beseech you; but remember only 
 that I am deeply grateful." 
 
 The carriage drove away, and the Count re- 
 mained for a moment listening. He then re- 
 turned to the mixed group by the fire, where 
 the agitation of terror in the case of the Abbe 
 de St. Helie had worked itself up to such a 
 pitch during his absence, that the tears were 
 streaming copiously from the unhappy man's 
 eyes, Avhile the band that had made him a 
 captive stood round gazing upon him with 
 some contempt, but certainly no appearance of 
 
 VOL. I. L 
 
146 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 pity. Pelisson, on his part, displayed a greater 
 degree of firmness, remaining with his hands 
 clasped together, and his eyes fixed upon the 
 ground, but without any other sign of fear than 
 some paleness of his countenance, and an occa- 
 sional movement of the lips, as if he were in 
 prayer. 
 
 The Count advanced into the midst of the 
 group, and perceiving that the leader of the 
 band into whose hands they had fallen looked 
 to him to speak first, and maintained a sort of 
 dogged silence which augured but ill for the 
 two ecclesiastics, he said, " Now, my good 
 friend, what do you intend to do with these 
 gentlemen?" 
 
 " I intend," replied the man in a stern tone, 
 " to shoot the two that are standing there with- 
 out fail, to scourge that black-faced priest by 
 the carriage till he has not a bit of skin on his 
 back, and send the lackeys trooping." 
 
 " You are of course jesting," said the Count. 
 *' You are not a man, I am sure, to commit 
 deliberate murder. But you have frightened 
 them enough. — Let me hear what you intend 
 to do, without a jest." 
 
 " There has been no jest spoken," replied 
 the man fiercely. " I have told you my in- 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 147 
 
 tentions, and I shall not change. These two 
 villains have come down into a peaceful pro- 
 vince,' and amongst a happy people, to bring 
 dissension, and persecution, and hatred amongst 
 us, and thev shall taste the first bitter fruits of 
 their own works. I shall certainly not let them 
 escape ; and 1 can tell the old Jesuit Le Teliier, 
 and his tyrant son, Louvois, that they may send 
 as many of such firebrands down as they will ; 
 I will do my best to meet them, and extinguish 
 them in their own blood." 
 
 " I really do not know what you mean," re- 
 plied the Count. " Monsieur Pelisson, I cannot 
 conceive, from what I know of you, that you 
 are a man to undertake such evil tasks as this 
 good gentleman accuses you of. We of the 
 reformed religion certainly regretted that you 
 had thou2[ht fit to fall back into what we con- 
 sider to be a great error, but we never supposed 
 that you would deal hardly with your reformed 
 brethren." 
 
 " Neither do I, Count," replied Pelisson, 
 firmly. " It is natural that, having abandoned 
 errors, I should seek to lead others to follow 
 the same course; but no harsh means have I 
 ever practised, no harsh means have I ever 
 counselled. On the contrary, I have advocated 
 L 2 
 
148 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 gentleness, peace, persuasion, exhortation, kind- 
 ness, equity, on all occasions. But it is in 
 vain, my good young gentleman," he added, 
 looking at his captors, " it is all in vain. These 
 men are determined to take our blood, and it is 
 in vain to try to stay them ; though the retri- 
 bution which will fall upon them, and I fear, 
 too, upon your own sect, will be awful, when 
 our fate reaches the ears of the King. But it 
 is in vain, as I have said. You have done your 
 best for us, and I thank you from my heart. 
 Bear witness, every one ! " he continued, raising 
 his voice, " bear witness, every one, that this 
 noble gentleman, the Count de Morseiul, has 
 no share in the terrible act these men are going 
 to commit, and that he has done his best to 
 save us." 
 
 " No one will suspect me, Monsieur Pelisson," 
 replied the Count. But I must yet do some- 
 thing more," he added, believing, not wrongly, 
 that the words and demeanour of Pelisson must 
 have had some effect upon the body of men by 
 whom they were surrounded, and also having 
 some hope now that aid might be at hand. " I 
 must yet do something more, and the time I 
 believe is come for doing it. Listen to me, sir," 
 he added, addressing the man who had led the 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 149 
 
 band throughout. " I beg of you instantly to 
 set these two gentlemen at liberty. I beg of you, 
 both for your own sake and for the sake of the 
 reformed church, to which I belong, and to 
 whose instigations this act will be attributed; 
 and if you will not attend to my entreaties you 
 must attend to my command — I command you 
 to set them at liberty ! " 
 
 " Command ! " said the man, with a scornful 
 laugh. Your commands are likely to be mighty 
 potent here, in the green w^ood, Sir Count ! 
 Now, listen to my commands to you. Make 
 the best of your time and get away from this 
 spot without delay, for if you stay you shall 
 either see those two men shot before your face, 
 or you shall be shot with them. So be quick." 
 
 " Be it as you say, my good friend," replied 
 the Count coolly. " We shall have bloody w^ork 
 of it; but before you go on, remember, I tell 
 you, you shall take my life with theirs ; and let 
 me "warn you of another thing which you do 
 not know, the first shot that is fired, the first 
 loud word that is spoken," he added, dropping 
 his voice, " will bring destruction on the heads 
 of all." 
 
 The man to whom he spoke gazed in his face 
 with some surprise, as if not clearly understand- 
 L 3 
 
150 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 ing his meaning, while the rest of the band 
 appeared eagerly whispering together, in a 
 manner which might be interpreted to bespeak 
 some difference of opinion between themselves 
 and their leader. 
 
 The ear of the Count was quick ; while con- 
 ducting the two ladies to their carriage, he had 
 heard uncertain sounds at a distance, which he 
 had little doubted were occasioned by the ar- 
 rival of some party from the castle in search of 
 him : while he had spoken to the chief of the 
 band in favour of Pelisson and his compa- 
 nions, he had again caught the same sounds, 
 but more distinctly. He had heard voices, and 
 the trampling of horse, and taking advantage of 
 the momentary hesitation which seemed to affect 
 his opponent, he exclaimed, " Hark ! '* and lifted 
 lip his hand to enjoin silence. The sounds, 
 though distant, were now very distinct, and he 
 added, " You hear ! They are in search of me 
 with all the force from the castle. You did not 
 know that my servant was behind when I was 
 taken, and fled to seek succour." 
 
 His opponent stamped his foot upon the 
 ground, and laid his hand upon a pistol in his 
 belt, fingering the hammer of the lock in a very 
 ominous manner; but the Count once more 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 151 
 
 interposed, anxious on many accounts to pre- 
 vent a collision. 
 
 " Come," he said, " I wish to do you no injury. 
 Let us compromise the matter. Set the party you 
 have taken free, and doubtless they will abandon 
 to vour care and Guidance all the bao-fraffe and 
 money that they may possess. What say you, 
 Monsieur Pelisson ? " 
 
 " Willingly, willingly," cried Pelisson, to 
 whom all the last words spoken had been a 
 relief. 
 
 " Willingly, willingly," cried the Abbe de St. 
 Helie ; the tears which had been streaming from 
 fear changing suddenly into the tears of joy, 
 and flowing on as rapidly as ever. Their enemy, 
 however, seemed still to hesitate ; but the taller 
 man, whom we have before seen exercising some 
 influence over him, pulled him by the sleeve 
 once more, and whispered to him eagerly for a 
 brief space. He listened to him for an in- 
 stant, partly turning away his head, then shook 
 himself pettishly free from his grasp, saying, 
 " Well, I suppose it must be so. I will set 
 them free now; but a day of reckoning will 
 come, if they take not a warning from what has 
 passed. Gather all those things together, my 
 men. Each one take something, and let us be 
 L 4 
 
152 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 off as fast as we can. Stand to your arms, 
 though ; stand to your arms, some of you. Those 
 fellows are coming devilish near, and may find 
 their way up here." 
 
 ** They shall not injure you," said the Count. 
 ** I break no engagements, even when only im- 
 plied." 
 
 At that moment, however, the Abbe de St. 
 Helie, having sufficiently recovered from the 
 terror into which he had been cast to give 
 some thought to what he was about, exclaimed 
 aloud, "But the King's commission — the King's 
 commission! They must not take that;" and 
 rushing towards the baggage he seized a white 
 leather bag, which seemed to contain some 
 especial treasure ; but scarcely had he got it in 
 his hand when the'chief of their captors snatch- 
 ed it violently from him, and dashed it into the 
 midst of the fire, where he set his foot upon it, 
 as if to insure that it should be burnt, even at 
 the risk of injuring himself. 
 
 Albert de Morseiul was an officer in the King's 
 service, and had been brought up in his youth 
 with high notions of devoted loyalty and rever- 
 ence for the royal authority, which even the free 
 spirit of the reformed religion which he pro- 
 fessed had not been able to diminish. The in- 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 153 
 
 suit offered to the monarch's comniission then 
 struck him with indignation ; and, starting for- 
 ward, he grasped the man who would have 
 destroyed it by the chest, exclaiming, " Sir, 
 would you insult the King himself?" 
 
 The man replied not, but strove to keep 
 down his foot upon the packet. The young 
 Count, however, was as powerful in frame as 
 himself, and considerably taller; and, after a 
 momentary struggle, he cast him back, while 
 the Abbe de St. Helie snatched the packet from 
 the flames. 
 
 What would have been the result of this 
 strife, in which both the robber's blood and 
 that of the young Count were heated, would be 
 difficult to say, for the man had drawn the pistol 
 from his belt, and the click *of the lock was 
 plainly heard as he cocked it; but just at that 
 minute the men who had been engaged in 
 stripping the trunk mails of their contents, 
 caught a sight of a party of horsemen coming 
 up the road ; and gathering every thing that 
 was most valuable together, they retreated 
 quickly around their leader. Abandoning his 
 contention with the Count, he now promptly 
 formed them into line, collected all the various 
 articles belonging to themselves which were 
 
154 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 scattered about, and retreated in the direction 
 of the opposite road, offering a firm face of five 
 men abreast, with their carbines cocked, and 
 levelled to the horsemen, who were now coming 
 up thick into the open space where all these 
 events had passed. 
 
 At the head of the horsemen appeared the 
 Chevalier d'Evran, armed in haste to deliver or 
 avenge his friend ; but, as the Count saw that 
 he was now master of the field, and that the 
 robbers were retreating in a very threatening 
 attitude, which might produce bloodshed if 
 they were not immediately shown that no mo- 
 lestation would be offered to them, he took a 
 rapid step or two forward, exclaimirig to his 
 own party, — 
 
 " Halt, halt! We have come to a compro- 
 mise before you arrived, and are all at liberty. 
 Thanks, Louis, a thousand thanks, however, 
 for your succour ! " 
 
 The Count^s men paused promptly at his 
 command, and the robbers retreated slowly up 
 the other road, facing round every ten or twelve 
 steps, fully prepared for defence, like an old lion 
 pursued by the hunters. In the mean while 
 the Chevalier sprung from his horse, and grasp- 
 ed his friend's hand eagerly. 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 155 
 
 " Why, Albert," he exclaimed, " Albert, this 
 would never do ! You who, though one of tbe 
 rashest officers in the service, had escaped balls 
 and pikes, and bayonets and sabres, to run the 
 risk of being killed by a ditch-fighting free- 
 booter, within a mile or two of your own hearth ! 
 Why, when that rascal Jerome there came and 
 told me, I thought I should have gone mad; 
 but I was determined to ride the rascals down 
 like wolves, if I found they had injured you." 
 
 " Oh, no," replied the Count, " they showed 
 no inclination to injure me; and, indeed, it 
 would appear, as far as I am concerned, that 
 the whole matter was a mistake, for to me they 
 were very respectful. In truth, I seemed to b? 
 in wonderful favour with them, and my only 
 difficulty was in saving M. Pelisson and this 
 reverend gentleman here. But, notwithstand- 
 ing these worthy men's reverence for myself, I 
 must set to work to put this down as soon as 
 ever I come back from Poitiers." 
 
 " I am sure. Monsieur le Comte," said the 
 Abbe de St. Helie, " we owe you every thing 
 this night, and your conduct shall never be 
 blotted out from our grateful remembrance." 
 
 " The Count bowed low, but somewhat stiffly; 
 then, shaking Pelisson by the hand, he said, " I 
 
156 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 am happy to have been of any service to you 
 both, gentlemen. My good friend, Monsieur 
 Pelisson, I trust that you will not be any the 
 worse for this short, though unpleasant, sojourn 
 in the forest. I will not ask you and your friend 
 to return and stop awhile at the chateau of 
 Morseiul, as in all probability Monsieur de 
 St. Helie might not relish abiding under the 
 roof of a heretic. But besides that," he 
 added with a smile, " besides that, in regard to 
 which of course I speak in jest, I doubt not 
 you are anxious to proceed. Morseiul is out 
 of your way, and in an hour and a half you 
 will reach the auberge of Quatremoulins." 
 
 " But, sir, shall we be safe, shall we be safe?" 
 exclaimed the Abbe de St. Helie, who was now 
 examining the vehicle in which they had been 
 travelling with anxious eyes. " Gracious God ! " 
 he exclaimed, ere the Count could answer, 
 "look! there is a ball which has gone through 
 the carriage within an inch of my head ! '* 
 
 The Count de Morseiul looked at the Che- 
 valier, and they both laughed. 
 
 " There is a proverb in England, my good 
 Abbe," said the Chevalier, "that a miss is as 
 good as a mile; but if you will take my advice 
 you will plant yourself just in the same spot 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 157 
 
 again, or put your valiee to raise you just op- 
 posite the shot'hole, for there are a thousand 
 chances to one that, if you are shot at a thou- 
 sand times, no bullet ever comes there again." 
 
 The Abbe did not seem much to like the 
 pleasantry, for in his mind the subject was far 
 too serious a one to admit of a joke; and the 
 Count de Morseiul replied to his former ques- 
 tion, — "Depend upon it you are in perfect 
 safety. But to make that more sure, the Che- 
 valier and I will return to Morseiul with only 
 one or two attendants, and send the rest of my 
 men to escort you to the inn. However, gen- 
 tlemen, if you will take my advice, you will 
 not travel by night any more when you are in 
 this part of the country ; for, from what that 
 fellow said, I should suppose the peasantry have 
 got some evil notion of your intended proceed- 
 ings here, and it might be dangerous to trust 
 yourselves with them too much. There are 
 such things, you must remember, as shooting 
 from behind hedges, and from the tops of banks; 
 and you must not forget that, in this part of the 
 world, where our lanes are cut deep down be- 
 tween the fields, our orchards thick, and our 
 woods many, it is no easy matter to ascertain 
 where there is an enemy. As I take it for 
 
158 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 granted you are going towards Poitiers, Mon- 
 sieur Pelisson, I shall most likely see you soon 
 again. We will all accompany you out of the 
 wood, and then you shall have a sufficient escort 
 to ensure your safety.'* 
 
 Pelisson thanked him again and again. 
 The trunk mails, and what portion of their 
 contents the robbers had left, were gathered 
 together, the carriage re-loaded, and its 
 human burden placed safely in it. Pelisson and 
 the Abbe de St. Helie, after having ascertained 
 that the injuries inflicted by the fire upon the 
 precious packet in the sheep-skin bag extended 
 no farther than that outer cover, gave the word 
 that they were ready; and moving on in slow 
 procession, the carriage, its denizens, and their 
 escort of cavaliers made their exit from the 
 road, after which the Count and the Chevalier 
 took leave of the others to return to the castle 
 of Morseiul ; and thus ended the adventures of 
 the night. 
 
159 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE JOURNEY, AND SOME OF ITS EVENTS. 
 
 We will pass over all comments which took 
 place amongst the parties to the scene which 
 we described in our last chapter, and will take 
 up our story again with the interval of a single 
 day. 
 
 How happy would it often be for us in life 
 if we could thus blot out a single day ! if, 
 out of our existence as out of our history, we 
 could extirpate one four and twenty hours, its 
 never-to-be-recalled deeds, its thoughts affect- 
 ing the mind for ever, its events affecting the 
 whole course of after-existence ! How happy 
 would it be if we could blot it out from being ! 
 and often, too often, how happy would it be if 
 we could blot it out from memory — from me- 
 mory, the treasurer of our joys and pains — 
 memory, whose important charge differs from 
 the bright office of hope, in the sad particular of 
 having to deal with nothing but realities ! 
 
 However, with the Count de Morseiul and 
 his friend the Chevalier d'Evran, that day had 
 
160 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 passed in nothing which left regret. The Count 
 had explained to his friend that he judged it 
 necessary to go to Poitiers at once : the Che- 
 valier had very willingly agreed to accompany 
 him, saying, that he would take the good old 
 Duke by surprise: they had then enjoyed every 
 thing that Morseiul afforded of enjoyable; they 
 had wandered by the glassy stream, they had 
 ridden through the beautiful scenes around, 
 they had hunted the boar in the Count's green 
 woods, they had tasted with moderation his good 
 wine, and the rich fruits of a sunny land; and 
 thus that day had passed over without a cloud. 
 
 Although the King of France had given over, 
 by this time, the habit with which he set out, 
 in the light and active days of his first man- 
 hood, and no longer made all his journeys on 
 horseback, yet the custom was kept up by a 
 great part of his nobility and officers, and it 
 was very usual to ride post upon a journey, 
 that is to say, to mount whatever horse the post- 
 master chose to give, and ride on to the next 
 relay, accompanied by a postilion on another 
 horse, carrying the baggage. The Count de 
 Morseiul, however, did not follow this plan, as 
 he had no inclination to appear in the city of 
 Poitiers, which at that time boasted of being 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 161 
 
 the largest city in France, except Paris, in the 
 character of a courier. As he loved not car- 
 riages, however, and had plenty of fiery horses 
 in his stable panting for exercise, he sent for- 
 ward a relay himself to a distant inn upon the 
 road, and, on the morning we speak of, accom- 
 panied by his friend and a large body of their 
 servants, rode calmly on upon the way, propos- 
 ing to make a journey of about five and thirty 
 miles that day. 
 
 " It is politic of me, D'Evran," he said, con- 
 versing with the Chevalier, " it is politic of me 
 to carry you aw^ay from Morseiul so soon ; as you 
 have promised to give me one whole month, for 
 fear you should become tired of your abode, and 
 exhaust all its little stock of amusements and 
 pleasures too rapidly. Satiety is a great evil, 
 and surely one of the minor policies of life is 
 to guard against it. " 
 
 " No fear of my getting tired of Morseiul so 
 soon," replied the Chevalier ; " but I cannot 
 agree entirely to your view of satiety. I have 
 often had many doubts as to whether it be really 
 an evil or not." 
 
 " I have none," replied the Count; " it seems 
 to me the greatest of intellectual evils; it seems 
 to me to be to the mind what despair is to the 
 
 VOL. M 
 
^62 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 heart, and in tlie mind of a young man is surely 
 what premature decrepitude is to the body. 
 Good God, Louis, how can you entertain a 
 doubt? The idea of losing one sense, one fine 
 perception, is surely horrible enough ; but ten- 
 fold horrible must be the idea of losing them 
 altogether; or, wluit comes to the same thing, of 
 losing the enjoyment that they confer upon us?" 
 
 '' Na}^, but, Albert," said the Chevalier, who 
 was fond of playing with his own wit as a bright 
 weapon, without considering its dangerous na- 
 ture, and took no little pleasure in calling forth, 
 even against himself, the enthusiastic eagerness 
 of his friend; " nay, but, Albert, what I contend 
 for is, that satiety is true wisdom ; that it is a 
 perfect, tliorough knowledge of all enjoyments^ 
 and a proper estimation of their emptiness." 
 
 " Hold, hold," exclaimed the Count, *^ that 
 is a very different thing; to my mind satiety is 
 the exhaustion of our own powers of enjoying, 
 not the discovery of the want of a power of 
 conferring enjoyment in other things. Because 
 a m.an loses the sense of smelling, that will not 
 deprive the rose of its sweet odour. Does a 
 tyrant cut out my tongue? the delicious flavour 
 of the peach will remain, though I taste it not; 
 th.ough he blind my eyes, the face of nature will 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 163 
 
 flourish and look fair as much as ever. No, no, 
 satiety is tlie deprivation, by over enjoyment, 
 of our own powers of receiving; and not a just 
 estimate of the powers of other things in giving 
 pleasure." 
 
 " But you v/ill own," said the Chevalier, 
 " that a deep and minute acquaintance v/ith 
 any source of enjoyment naturally tends to di- 
 minish tlie gratification that we at first received 
 from it. You will not deny that moralist and 
 philosopher, from Solomon down to our own 
 days, have all been right in pointing out the 
 vanity of all things. Vanitas vanitatis, m}' dear 
 Count, has been the stamp fixed by every great 
 mind that the w^orld has yet produced upon the 
 objects of human enjoyment. This has been 
 the acme, this the conclusion at Vvhich wisdom 
 has arrived ; and surely the sooner we ourselves 
 arrive at it in life the better." 
 
 " Heaven forbid," exclaimed the Count; 
 " Heaven forbid, either that it should be so, or 
 that such should be your real and mature 
 opinion. You say that a minute acquaintance 
 with the sources of enjoyment diminishes tiie 
 gratification they afford. There is undoubtedly 
 something lost in every case of such minute 
 acquaintance ; but it is by the loss of a peculiar 
 M 2 
 
164 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 and distinct source of pleasure accompanying 
 every other enjoyment the first time it is tasted, 
 and never going beyond. I mean novelty — 
 the bloom upon the ripe plum, which renders 
 it beautiful to the eye as well as refreshing to 
 the taste — brush away the bloom, the plum is 
 no longer so beautiful, but the taste no less re- 
 freshing. Setting aside the diminution made 
 for the loss of that novelty, I deny your po- 
 sition." 
 
 The Chevalier lauojhed at his friend's eao:er- 
 ness. 
 
 " You will not surely deny, Morseiul," he 
 said, " that there is no pleasure, no enjoyment, 
 really satisfactory to the human heart; and, 
 consequently, the more intimately we become 
 acquainted with it, the more clearly do we see 
 its emptiness." 
 
 " Had you said at the first," replied the 
 Count, " that our acquaintance with pleasures 
 show their insufficiency, I should have admitted 
 the truth of your assertion; but to discover the 
 insufficiency of one pleasure seems to me only a 
 step towards the enjoyment of pleasures of a 
 higher quality." 
 
 " But we may exhaust them all," said the 
 Chevalier, "and then comes — what but satiety?" 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 165 
 
 " No," replied the Count, " not satiety, as- 
 pirations for and hopes of higher pleasures 
 still; the last, the grandest, the noblest seek- 
 ing for enjoyment that the universe can afford'; 
 the pursuit that leads us through the gates of 
 the tomb to those abodes where the imper- 
 fections of enjoyment end, where the seeds of 
 decay grow not up with the flowers that we 
 plant, where the fruit is without the husk, and 
 the music without the dissonance. This still is 
 left us when all other enjoyments of life are 
 exhausted, or have been tasted, or have been 
 cast away, or have been destroyed. Depend 
 upon it, Louis, that even the knowledge we 
 acquire of the insufficiency of earth's enjoyment 
 gives us greater power to advance in the scale 
 of enjoyment; and that, if we choose to learn 
 our lesson from the picture given us of the 
 earthly paradise, w^e shall find a grand moral in 
 the tree of eternal life having been planted by 
 the tree of knowledge." 
 
 " But still, my dear Count," replied the 
 Chevalier, " you seem still to approach to my 
 argument, while you deny its force. If such be 
 the result of satiety, as you say it is, namely, to 
 lead us to the aspiration after higher enjoyments, 
 till those aspirations point to another world, 
 M 3 
 
166 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 surely it is better to arrive at that result as soon 
 as possible." 
 
 " Noj" replied the Count; " in the first place, 
 I did not say that such was the result of satiety ; 
 I said that it was the result of discovering by 
 experience the insufficiency of all earthly en- 
 joyments to give perfect satisfaction to a high 
 and immortal spirit and well-regulated mind. 
 Satiety I hold to be quite the reverse of this ; I 
 hold it to be the degradation of our faculties of 
 enjoyment, either by excessive indulgence, or by 
 evil direction. The man who follows such a 
 course of life as to produce any chance of 
 reaching satiety, tends downward instead of 
 upward, to lower rather than to higher plea- 
 sures, and exhausts his own capabilities, not the 
 blessings of God. The opposite course pro- 
 duces the opposite result ; we know and learn 
 that all God's creations afford us some enjoy- 
 ment, although we know and learn, at the same 
 time, that it has been his will that none of those 
 enjoyments upon earth should give complete 
 and final satisfaction. Our capabilities of en- 
 joying by enjoying properly are not blunted 
 but acuminated ; we fly from satiety instead 
 of approaching it; and even while we learn to 
 aspire to higher things, we lose not a particle of 
 the power — except by the natural decay of our 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 167 
 
 faculties — of enjoying even tlie slight foretaste 
 that Heaven has given us here." 
 
 " Solomon, Solomon, Solomon ! " said his 
 companion, " Solomon was evidently a misan- 
 thrope either by nature or by satiety. He had 
 seen every thing under the sun, and he pro- 
 nounced every thing vanity — ay, lighter than 
 vanity itself." 
 
 " And he was right," replied the Count; 
 " every thing is lighter than vanity itself, when 
 comparing the things of this world with the 
 tilings of eternity. But you know," he added 
 with a smile, " that we Huguenots, as you call 
 us, acknowledge no authority against the clear 
 operation of reason, looking upon no man as 
 perfect but one. If you were to tell me that it 
 was riglit to put a friend in a dangerous place 
 where he was sure to be killed for the purpose 
 of marrying his widow, I should not a bit more 
 believe that it was right, because David had 
 done it ; and even if you v/ere to prove to me 
 that throu"[h the whole writin^^-s of Solomon 
 there was not, as I believe there is, a continual 
 comparison between earthly things and heavenly 
 things, I should still say that you were in the 
 wrong; the satiety that he felt being a just 
 punishment upon him for the excesses he com- 
 M 4 
 
16S THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 mitted and the follies to which he gave way, 
 and by no means a proof of his wisdom, any 
 more than those follies and excesses themselves. 
 Long before we have exhausted the manifold 
 pleasures which Heaven has given us here by 
 moderate and virtuous enjoyment — long before 
 we have even discovered by experience the 
 insufficiency of one half that we may properly 
 enjoy, the span of man's life is finished; and at 
 the gates of death he may think himself happy, 
 if, while he has learnt to desire the more perfect 
 enjoyment of heavenly things, he has not ren- 
 dered himself unfit for that enjoyment, by having 
 depraved his faculties to satiety by excess." 
 
 " Well, well," said the Chevalier, seeing that 
 his friend spoke earnestly, " I am afraid I must 
 give up Solomon, Albert. If I remember right, 
 the man had some hundreds of wives or so; 
 and I am sure he might well cry out that all is 
 vanity after that. I wonder they did not all 
 fall upon him at once, and smother him under 
 looking-glasses and bonbonnieres." 
 
 The Count saw that his friend turned the 
 matter into a joke, and, from his long acquain- 
 tance with him, he doubted not that he had 
 been carrying on the discussion from first to 
 last for sport. He was not angry or cross about 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 169 
 
 it; but, of an eager and of an earnest disposi- 
 tion, he could not play with subjects of value, 
 like an unconscious child tossing jewels to and 
 fro, and he remained thoughtful for some time. 
 While the Chevalier continued to jest upon 
 a thousand things, sometimes connecting one 
 joke with another in rapid and long succession, 
 sometimes pausing for a moment or two, and 
 taking his next subject from any alccidental cir- 
 cumstance in their ride or feature in the scene 
 around, the Count gradually resumed the con- 
 versation upon indifferent matters. Having only 
 in view, however, in any extracts that we may 
 give from their conversation, either to forward 
 the progress of their history or to display 
 the peculiar character of each, we shall dwell 
 no longer upon their words during the rest of 
 the ride to a little village, some seventeen miles 
 from the chateau, where they stayed a moment 
 to water their horses. The Count was looking 
 down, watching the animals drink; but the 
 Chevalier, who was gazing at every thing in 
 the place, suddenly exclaimed, 
 
 " Surely there cannot be two such ugly heads 
 as that in France ! The Abbe Pelisson, as I 
 live ! Why, Monsieur Pelisson," he exclaimed, 
 advancing till he was directly under the window 
 
170 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 from which the head of the Abbe was pro- 
 truded, " how have you stuck here by the 
 way?" 
 
 " Alas ! my good sir," replied the Abbe, 
 " the fright of the day before yesterday had 
 such an effect upon my poor companion de St. 
 Hehe, that he was quite unable to proceed. 
 He is better this afternoon, and we shall set out 
 in an hour, after he has taken something to re- 
 fresh him and a^ive him strenijth." 
 
 " You will overtake us at our next lodging," 
 said the Chevalier. 
 
 " Oh no, we shall pass you far," replied the 
 Abbe. " We shall still have five hours' light, 
 and as we travel by post, we may calculate upon 
 going between five and six miles an hour." 
 
 The Count on his part made no comment, 
 but merely nodded his head to Pelisson ; and 
 when the Chevalier's brief conversation was at 
 an end, they rode on. The village which they 
 had fixed upon for their resting-place that night 
 was a large straggling open collection of houses, 
 which had grown up on either side of the wide 
 road, simply because it happened to be at a 
 convenient distance from many other places. 
 Tlie buildings were scattered, and separated 
 by large gardens or courts, and the inn itself 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 171 
 
 was in fact the only respectable dwelling in the 
 place, having been an old brick-built country 
 seat in former days, with the walls that defended 
 it from attack still standing round the court, the 
 windows rattling and quivering with the wind 
 and their antiquity, the rooms wide and lofty, 
 and perhaps a little cheerless, and the kitchen, 
 which formed the entrance, as black as the 
 smoke of many generations could render it. 
 
 The whole house was prepared to meet the 
 Count de Morseiul, his coming having been 
 announced by the servants sent on with the 
 horses; and did ducks and fowls in various 
 countries vrrite the histories of their several 
 races, that morning would have been memor- 
 able for the massacre that took place, and only 
 be comparable to the day of St. Bartholomew. 
 But the culinary art was great in France then 
 as it is now, and the cook, knowing that she had 
 a difficult task to perform, exerted her utmost 
 ingenuity to render tough poultry tender, and 
 insipid viands savoury, for the distinguished 
 guest that was to dine and sleep within those 
 walls. Though the preparations had been begun 
 at an early hour, yet they were by no means con- 
 cluded when the party arrived; and while Jerome 
 Riquet plunged into the kitchen, and communi- 
 
172 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 cated to the cook a thousand secrets from the 
 vast stores of his own muid, the Count and his 
 friend gazed forth from the window of a high, 
 wide, square-shaped room over the wide prospect, 
 which lay in gentle imdulations beneath their 
 eyes, with the road that they themselves had just 
 passed taking, as it were, a standing leap over 
 each of the little hills that it met with in its way. 
 The day had been remarkably fine during 
 the earlier portion thereof, but towards three 
 o'clock clouds had come over, not indeed veiling 
 the sky under a sheet of sombre grey, but 
 fleeting lightly across the blue expanse, like 
 the momentary cares of infancy, and passing 
 away, after dropping a few large tears, which the 
 joyful sun dried up again the moment after. 
 As the Count and his friend gazed forth, how- 
 ever, a heavier shower was seen sweeping over 
 the prospect, the sky became quite covered, a 
 grey mist — through which, however, a yellow 
 gleam was seen, saying that the summer night 
 was not far off, — advanced over wood and field, 
 and hill and dale, and dashing down with all 
 the impetuous and short-lived fury of an angry 
 boy, the cloud poured forth its burden on the 
 earth. While yet it was raging in its utmost 
 wrath, the plain carriage of Pelisson and his 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 173 
 
 companions was seen rolling slowly onward 
 towards the "village, with coachman and lackey 
 holding down the drenched head towards the 
 storm, and shading the defenceless neck. All 
 the windows of the vehicle were closed, in 
 order, if possible, to keep out the wind and 
 rain ; but constructed as carriages were in those 
 days, there was no great protection to be found 
 in them from the breath or the drops of heaven ; 
 and, as the rumbling vehicle approached the 
 village, the head of Pelisson was seen suddenly 
 thrust forth on the safest side, shouting some- 
 thing to the coachman, who seemed inclined to 
 go through all the signs in the subjunctive 
 mood of the verb, not to hear. After repeating 
 three times his v/ords, the Abbe drew his head 
 in again, and the carriage entered the village. 
 
 " For a hundred louis," said the Chevalier, 
 " we have the company of Messieurs Pelisson 
 and St. Helie to-night. I beseech thee, Albert, 
 tell them they cannot lodge here, if it be but to 
 see their rueful faces. Look, look ! There 
 comes the vehicle, like the ark of Noah, dis- 
 covered by some fortunate chance on Ararat, 
 and set upon the wheels of Pharaoh's chariot, 
 fished out of the Red Sea. Where could thejr 
 pick up such an antediluvian conveyance? 
 
174 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 Look, die ark stops ! Now, open the window, 
 Noah. Out comes the door !" and, as he spoke, 
 he had matter for more merriment, for the first 
 person that issued fortli was the fat black-faced 
 priest in his greasy cassock. '• The raven ! The 
 raven !" shouted the Chevaher, laughing aloud, 
 " What beast next, Count ? What beast next ?" 
 
 " Ilush, hush ! Louis," said his friend, in a 
 lower tone; " they will hear you, and it is a 
 pity to give pain." 
 
 " True, oh most sapient Albert," ansvrered the 
 Chevalier, " and you shall see hov/ courteous 
 I can be. I will even take the raven by tlie 
 claw — if you give me but time to order a basin 
 and napkin in the adjoining room for the neces- 
 sary ablution afterwards. Oh, Monsieur Pelis- 
 son, enchanted to see you !" he continued, as 
 the Abbe entered the room ; " Monsieur de St. 
 Helie, this is indeed delightful ; Monsieur de 
 Beaumanoir, allow me to take you by the Iiand," 
 he added, advancing towards the greasy priest. 
 
 " You mistake me for some one else," said 
 the priest, drawing slightly back, turning his 
 shoulder, and speaking through his teeth like a 
 muzzled bear : " I am the Cure de Guadrieul." 
 
 " True, true, I forgot," went on the Cheva- 
 lier in the same wild way. " Enchanted to see 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 175 
 
 you, Monsieur le Cure de Guadrieul ! How 
 jiiuch we are bound to laud and love this shower 
 for having given us the felicity of your society." 
 
 " I am sure I have no cause to laud it," said 
 the priest, " for all the rain has come in at that 
 crazy windov/, and run into my neck, besides 
 drenching my soutane." 
 
 Tlie Chevalier miiijlit have ffone on for an 
 hour, but the Count came to the relief of the 
 poor priest. He notified to Pelisson and his 
 companions, that the house and all that it con- 
 tained had been engaged by him, but he pressed 
 them to remiain as his guests so cordially, that 
 Monsieur de St. Helie, who — though he loved 
 not Huguenots, loved damp weather worse and 
 savoury viands more — consented readily, warn- 
 ed by the rising odours from the kitchen, that 
 he might certainly go farther and fare worse. 
 Chambers were found for the new guests, and, 
 before an hour had passed, tlie whole party w^as 
 seated at a groaning board, the plentiful supply 
 on which made Monsieur de St. Helie open his 
 eyes v/ith well satisfied astonishment. We are 
 not quite sure, indeed, that he did not feel a 
 greater respect for protestantism than he bad 
 ever felt before; and so placable and mild had 
 he evidently become, that the Chevalier whisper- 
 
176 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 ed^ to his friend, while apparendy speaking of 
 something else, " For Heaven's sake, Morseiul, 
 never suffer your people to give that man such 
 a feast again ! Three such dinners would make 
 him condemn his own soul, and turn heretic." 
 
 Pelisson was cheerful as usual, mild and gen- 
 tle, a little plausible perhaps, and somewhat 
 too courtier like, but still rendering himself 
 most agreeable, both by his manner and by a 
 sort of indescribable ease and grace in his con- 
 versation and language. Behind the chair of the 
 Count, as a sort of nomenclator of the diffe- 
 rent dishes, had placed himself worthy Maitre 
 Jerome Riquet. Now, Heaven knows that no 
 person was naturally more simple in his tastes 
 than Albert of Morseiul ; but he had left, as 
 usual, all the minor arrangements of his com- 
 fort to others, and certainly Jerome Riquet, as 
 soon as he heard that two Catholic abbes and a 
 priest were about to dine at the table of his 
 master, had not relaxed in any of his efforts to 
 excel all excellence, determined to astound the 
 ecclesiastics by the luxury and splendour of a 
 country inn. Had it produced nothing but 
 parchment and jack-boots, Jerome Riquet would 
 have discovered means of sending in entree 
 upon entree in various different forms, and un- 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 177 
 
 der various different names. But as it was, 
 notice of tbe Count's comino: liavino- been niven 
 the day before, and vast preparations made by 
 the worthy aubergiste, the suppers of Versailles 
 were little more refined than that to which 
 Pelisson and liis companions now sat down'; 
 while, according to Jerome's directions, two 
 servants stood behind every chair, and the 
 Count was graced by his own additional pre- 
 sence at the right elbow. 
 
 Riquet himself had not only taken up that 
 position as the Piece de resistance, but as the 
 Piece de parade, and, as was not uncustomary 
 then, he mingled with what was going for- 
 w^ard at table whenever it suited him. Often 
 by a happy exhortation upon some dish, or ob- 
 servation upon some wine, he contrived to turn 
 the conversation in a different direction when 
 it was proceeding in a way that did not please 
 him. About half way through the meal, how- 
 ever, his attention seemed to be caught by some- 
 thing awkward in the position of the Cure de 
 Guadrieul, and from time to time he turned a 
 sort of anxious and inquiring glance towards 
 him, wondering whether he sat so high in his 
 chair from the natural conformation of short 
 legs and a long body, or from some advenli- 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
178 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 tious substance placed beneath his nether 
 man. 
 
 He made various movements to discover it; 
 but, in the meantime, the conversation went on, 
 and the Counthaving been naturally drawn by the 
 observation of some other person to pay Pelisson 
 a compliment upon his graceful style, the Abbe 
 replied, " Oh, my style is nothing, Monsieur le 
 Comte, though you are good enough to praise it; 
 and besides, after all, it is but sty^e. I had a 
 brother once, poor fellow!" he added, "who 
 might indeed have claimed your praise ; for, 
 in addition to good style, which he possessed in 
 an infinitely higher degree than myself, he 
 had a peculiar art of speaking briefly, which, 
 Heaven knows, I have not, and of leaving 
 nothing unsaid that could be said upon the sub- 
 ject he treated. When he was only nineteen 
 years of age he was admitted to the academy of 
 Castres ; but, upon his admission, they made 
 this singular and flattering condition with him, 
 namely, that he should never speak upon any 
 subject till every body else had spoken, 'for,' said 
 the academicians, * when he speaks first, he never 
 leaves any body else any thing to say upon the 
 subject, and when he speaks last he finds a 
 thousand things to say that nobody else has 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 179 
 
 said.' Besides all this," he continued, "my 
 brother had another great and inestimable 
 advantage over me." 
 
 "Pray what was that?" demanded the 
 Count. 
 
 " He was not hideous," replied Pelisson. 
 
 " Oh, I do not think that such an advantage," 
 said the Chevalier. " It is the duty of a woman 
 to be handsome ; but I think men have a rioht 
 to be ugly if they like." 
 
 "So say I," replied Pelisson; "but Made- 
 moiselle de Scudery says that I abuse tlie 
 privilege, and upon my word I think so, for 
 just before I came from Paris something hap- 
 pened which is worth telling. I was walking 
 along," he continued, "quite soberly and 
 thoughtfully down the Rue de Beauvoisis — you 
 know that little street that leads up by the con- 
 vent of St. Mary — when coming opposite to a 
 large house nearly at the corner, I was suddenly 
 met by as beautiful a creature as ever I saw, 
 with her soubrette by her side, and lier loup in 
 her hand, so that I could quite see her face. 
 She was extremely well dressed, and, in fact, 
 altogether fit to be the Goddess of an Idyl. 
 However, as I did not know her, I was passing 
 quietly on, when suddenly she stopped, took 
 N 2 
 
180 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 me by the hand, and said, in an earnest voice, 
 ' Do nie the pleasure, sir, of accompanying me 
 for one moment.' On my word, gentlemen, I 
 did not know what was going to happen, but 
 I was a great deal too gallant, of course, to re- 
 fuse her; when, without another word, she led 
 me to the door of the house, up the stairs, rang 
 the bell on the first floor, and conducted me into 
 an anteroom. A servant threw open another door 
 for her; and then bringing me into a second 
 room, where I found a gentleman of good mien 
 with tv,'o sticks in his hand, she presented me 
 to him with these singular words : ' Line for 
 line, sir, like that! Remember, line for line, sir, 
 like iliat!^ and then turning on her heel she 
 w^alked away, leaving me petrified with aston- 
 ishment. The gentleman in whose presence I 
 stood seemed no less surprised for a moment 
 than myself; but the instant after he burst into 
 a violent fit of laughter, which made me a little 
 angry. 
 
 " 'Pray, sir, what is the meaning of all this?' 
 I aslced. 'Do you not know that lady?' he re- 
 joined. ' No, sir,' I replied, ' I neither know 
 her nor you.' ' Oh, as for me,' replied the 
 gentleman, 'you have seen me more than once 
 before. Monsieur Pelisson, though you do not 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 181 
 
 know me. I am INIignard, the painter ; but as 
 to the lady, I mast either not give you the clue 
 to her bringing you here, or not give yoa her 
 name, wliich you like.' ' Give me the cine; 
 give me the clue,' replied I : ' the lady's name 
 I will find out hereafter.' 
 
 " ' Do not be offended then,' he said, ' but 
 the truth is, I am painting for that lady a pic- 
 ture of the temptation in the wilderness. She 
 came to see it this morning, and a violent dis- 
 pute arose betv/een us as to how I was to repre- 
 sent the devil ; she contending that he v/as to 
 be excessively ugly, and I, that though dis- 
 figured by bad passions, there was to be the 
 beauty of an angel fallen. She left me a minute 
 ago in a fit of playful pettish ness, when lo and 
 behold she returns almost instantly, bringing 
 you in her hand, and saying, ' Line for line, 
 like that.' I leave you to draw your own con- 
 clusion." 
 
 " I did draw my own conclusion," continued 
 Pelisson, " and got out of the way of Monsieur 
 Mignard's brush as fast as possible, only saying, 
 that I thought the lady very much in the wrong, 
 for there could lie no great temptation under 
 such an exterior as mine." 
 
 His auditors laughed both at the story and 
 N 3 
 
182 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 at the simplicity with which it was told, and no 
 one laughed more heartily than the black-faced 
 priest. But while he was chuckling on his 
 seat, Maitre Jerome, who had glided round 
 behind him, suddenly seized hold of two lea- 
 thern strings that hung down over the edge of 
 the chair, and exclaiming, " That must be very 
 inconvenient to your reverence," he pulled out 
 from underneath him, by a sudden jerk which 
 nearly laid him at his length on the floor, the 
 identical sheep-skin bag which had nearly been 
 burnt to pieces in the wood. 
 
 The priest started up with terror and dismay, 
 exclaiming, "Give it to me: give it to me, 
 sirrah. How dare you take it from under me ? 
 It is the King's commission to Messieurs Pe- 
 lisson and St. Helie for putting down heresy in 
 Poitou." 
 
 A sudden grave look and a dead silence suc- 
 ceeded this unexpected announcement; but 
 while the priest snatched the packet from Jerome 
 Riquet's profane hands, declaring that he had 
 promised not to part with it for a moment, 
 Pelisson made his voice heard, saying, 
 
 "You mistake, my good brother; such is not 
 the object of the commission, as the King ex- 
 plained it to me. On the contrary, his Majesty 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 183 
 
 said that, when it was opened at Poitiers, we 
 would find that the whole object and scope of 
 it was to heal the religious differences of the 
 province in the mildest and most gentle manner 
 possible." 
 
 " I trust it may be found so. Monsieur 
 Pelisson," replied the Count gravely, turning 
 his eyes from the Abbe de St. Helie, who said 
 nothing. " I trust it may be found so ;" and 
 though it was evident that some damp was 
 thrown upon his good spirits, he turned the 
 conversation courteously and easily to other 
 subjects : while Jerome Riquet, satisfied in re- 
 gard to the nature of the packet, made a thou- 
 sand apologies to the Cure of Guadrieul, loaded 
 his plate with delicacies, and then returned to 
 his master's elbow. 
 
 After supper, for so the meal was then called, 
 the party separated. The Chevalier d'Evran, 
 for motives of his own, attached himself closely, 
 for the time being, to the Abbe de St. Helie, 
 and engaged him in a party at trick track ; the 
 young Count strolled out in the evening light 
 with Pelisson, both carefully avoiding any re- 
 ligious subjects from the delicacy of their mutual 
 position; the fat priest went to gossip with Maitre 
 Jerome, and smoke a pipe in the kitchen of the 
 N 4 
 
184 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 inn ; and the serving men made love to the 
 village girls, or caroled in the court-yard. 
 
 Thus . ended the first day's journey of the 
 Count de Morseiul towards Poitiers. On the 
 following morning he had taken his departure 
 before the ecclesiastics had risen, leaving the 
 servants, who were to follow with the horses, to 
 make them fully aware that they had been his 
 guests during their stay at the inn : and on the 
 third day, at about five o'clock in tlie afternoon, 
 he came under the high rock}' banks which 
 guard the entrance to the ancient city which 
 was to be the end of his journey. 
 
185 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE LADY AND HER LOVERS. 
 
 The city of Poitiers is a beautiful old town, at 
 least it is a town in which there is much to 
 interest; the memories of many remote periods 
 cross and intersect each other, like the arches 
 of a Gothic church., forming a fretv.ork over head 
 of varied and solemn, though dim, associations. 
 The Roman, and the Goth, and the Frank, and 
 the Englishman, have all there left indelible 
 traces of their footsteps; and each spot through 
 the streets of that city, and through the neigh- 
 bouring country, is sliadowed or brightened by 
 the recollection of great and extraordinary deeds 
 in the past. There is something in it, also, unlike 
 any other town in the world ; the number and 
 extent of its gardens, the distance between its 
 various houses, would make it look more like an 
 orchard than a town, did not, every here and 
 there, rise up some striking edifice, some fine 
 church, bearing in its windows the leopards, or 
 llie fleurs de lis, as the case may be; a town- 
 
186 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 house, a broken citadel, or a Roman amphi- 
 theatre in ruins, and all amidst rich green gar- 
 dens, and grapes, and flowering shrubs. 
 
 The Count de Morseiul and his train, after 
 passing the gates of the city, which were then 
 duly watched and warded, rode on to the house 
 of the governor, which was, at that time, in the 
 great square. It had probably been a Roman 
 building, of which part of the portico had been 
 preserved, forming the end of one of the wings; 
 for, during three or four centuries, a tall porch 
 had remained there supported by three columns. 
 Though the principal gate was in the centre 
 of the house, it was usual for the people of the 
 town to enter by this porch; and such was 
 the only purpose that it served. The whole 
 aspect of the place has been altered long since ; 
 the governor's house has been changed into an 
 inn, where I have slept on more than one occa- 
 sion; and of the three columns nothing more 
 remains but the name, which has descended to 
 the hotel. It was in that time, however, a large 
 brick building, with an immense arched gate- 
 way in the centre, imder which Goliath of Gath 
 himself might have passed on horseback vv^ith a 
 feather in his cap. Beyond this was the inner 
 court, with the usual buildings around it ; but 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 187 
 
 upon a large and magnificent scale, and on the 
 left, under the arch-way, rose a wide flight of 
 stone steps, leading to the principal apartments 
 above. 
 
 Throughout the whole town, and especially 
 in the neighbourhood of the governor's house, 
 there appeared, on the day of the Count's 
 arrival, a greater degree of bustle and activity 
 than Poitiers generally displays; and as he drew 
 up his horse under the archway, to ascend the 
 stairs, several peasant girls, after pausing to 
 look at the cavaliers, passed on into the courts 
 beyond, loaded with baskets full of flowers, and 
 fruit, and green branches. 
 
 As he had sent on a messenger the day before 
 to announce his approach, the Count de Mor- 
 seiul knew that he was expected; and it was 
 evident, from the sudden rushing forth of all 
 the servants, the rapid and long ringing of the 
 great bell, which went up stairs, and a thousand 
 other such signs, that orders had been given 
 to treat him with especial distinction. While 
 some of the masters of the stable took possession 
 of his grooms and horse-boys, to show them 
 to the place appointed for them, two otlier ser- 
 vants, in costumes which certainly did honour 
 to the taste of M. le Marquis Auguste de 
 
188 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 Hericourtj marshalled the Count and the Che- 
 valier — followed by their respective valets and 
 pages, without which men of their rank and 
 fortune travelled not in that day — to the vesti- 
 bule at the top of the staircase. 
 
 A step beyond the door of the vestibule, w-hich 
 was also a step beyond what etiquette required, 
 the governor of the province was already wait- 
 ing to receive the Count de Morseiul. He was 
 a frank, amiable, and kind-hearted old gentle- 
 man, as tall, and as thin, and as brown as a 
 cypress tree; and grasping the Count's hand, he 
 welcomed him to Poitiers as an old friend, and 
 the son of an old friend, and likewise, perhaps 
 we might say, as one whose high character and 
 fame, as a soldier, he greatly and sincerely ad- 
 mired. While speaking to the Count so eagerly 
 that he saw^ nothing else, the governor felt a 
 hand laid upon his arm, and, turning, beheld 
 the Chevalier, whom he welcomed also warmly, 
 though in a peculiar tone of intimacy which he 
 had not used towards the Count de Morseiul. 
 
 " Ah, d'Evran," he said, " what brought you 
 here, mad boy ? I wanted not to see you ; but 
 I can tell you I shall put you in a garret, as you 
 deserve, for the house is filled to the doors. 
 This is our first grand reception, our little pro- 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 189 
 
 vincial appartemenL All the nobility in the 
 neighbourhood are flocking in, and, as we can- 
 not lodge them all, we are obliged to begin our 
 entertainment as early as possible, in order to 
 suffer some of them to get home betimes. This 
 must plead my apology, my dear Count, for not 
 giving you more spacious apartments yourself, 
 and for not taking you at once to the Duchess, 
 who is all anxiety to see our hero. Some re- 
 freshments shall be taken to you in your own 
 apartment, to your little salon, where, perhaps, 
 you will give a corner to this wild Chevalier; 
 for there is that young puppy Hericourt, who 
 only arrived last night, up to the elbows in the 
 dining-room in all sort of finery and foolery." 
 
 ''But where is la belle Clemence?" de- 
 manded the Chevalier. " Where is the beauty 
 of beauties ? Will she not give me a quarter of 
 an hour in her boudoir, think you, Duke?" 
 
 " Get along with you," replied the Duke: 
 '• Clemence does not want to see you. Go and 
 refresh yourself with the Count: by that time 
 we shall have found a place to put you in; and 
 when you have cast off your dusty apparel, 
 ransacked the perfumers, sought out your best 
 lace, and made yourself look as insupportably 
 conceited as you used to do two years ago at 
 
190 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 Versailles, it will be time for you to present 
 yourself in our reception-room, and there you 
 can see Clemence, who, I dare say, will laugh 
 at you to your heart's content." 
 
 " So be it — so be it," replied the Chevalier, 
 with a well-satisfied air. " Come, Count, we 
 must obey the governor : see if he do not make 
 himself as despotic here as his Majesty in Paris. 
 Which is our way. Monsieur de Rouvre ?" and 
 with that appearance of indifference which has 
 always been a current sort of affectation with 
 men of the world, from the days of Horace 
 downwards, he followed the servants to the 
 handsome apartments prepared for the Count 
 de Morseiul, which certainly needed no apology. 
 
 On the table the Count found a packet of 
 letters, which M. de Rouvre had brought for 
 him from Paris. They contained nothing of 
 any great importance, being principally from 
 old military companions ; but after the Cheva- 
 lier had taken some refreshments with him, and 
 retired to the apartments which had been pre- 
 pared in haste for him, the Count took up the 
 letters, and, carried forward by the memory of 
 old times, went on reading, forgetful of the 
 necessity of dressing himself for the approach- 
 ing fete. He promised himself little or no 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 191 
 
 pleasure indeed therein, for lie expected to see 
 few, if any, with whom he was acquainted ; 
 and his mind was too deeply occupied with im- 
 portant and even painful subjects, for him to 
 think of mingling in lighter scenes with an}^ 
 very agreeable sensations. 
 
 He did not remember then the necessity 
 of preparation, till he had to call for lights, and 
 heard the roll of carriage-wheels, and the clat- 
 tering of horses. He then, however, hastened 
 to repair his forgetfulness ; but Jerome was 
 not as prompt and ready as usual, or else he 
 was far more careful of his master's appear- 
 ance. We will not, indeed, pause upon all the 
 minute points of his toilet; but certainly, by 
 the time that the valet would acknowledge that 
 his master was fit to go down, he had given to 
 the Count's fine person every advantage that 
 dress can bestow ; and perhaps Albert of Mor- 
 seiul did not look at all the worse for that air of 
 high and thoughtful intelligence, which the 
 deep interests whereon his mind was fixed, called 
 up in a countenance, with the fine and noble 
 features of which, that expression was so pecu- 
 liarly suited. 
 
 When, at length, he entered the little saloon 
 that had been allotted to him, he found one of 
 
192 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 the officers of the governor waituig, with his 
 own page, to condact liim to the reception- 
 rooms; and, on asking if the Chevalier was 
 ready, he found that he had been there seeking: 
 him, and had gone down. It was a shght re- 
 proach for his tardiness, and the Count hastened 
 to follow. The way was not long, but the 
 stairs had been left somewhat dark, as bat little 
 time had been given for preparation ; and when 
 the doors were opened for the j^oung Count, a 
 blaze of light and a scene of magnificence burst 
 upon his eyes, which he had not been prepared 
 to see in that remote part of France. 
 
 The rooms were brilliantly, though softly, 
 lighted, and the principal blaze came from the 
 great saloon at the farther end. Rich hangings 
 and decorations were not wanting, but as they 
 were, of course, to be procured with greater 
 difficulty than in Paris, the places where many 
 draperies would have hung, or where gilded 
 scrolls, trophies, and other fanciful embellish- 
 ments would have appeared, were filled up with 
 much better taste from the storehouses of 
 nature; and garlands, and green bought and 
 the multitude of flowers which that part of the 
 country produces, occupied every vacant space, 
 A very excellent band of musicians, which the 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 193 
 
 Duke had brought with him from the capital, 
 was posted in an elevated gallery of the great 
 saloon ; and the sweet notes of many popular 
 melodies of the day came pouring down the 
 long suite of apartments, softened, but not 
 rendered indistinct by the distance. In the 
 first chamber which the Count entered were a 
 great number of the inferior officers of the go- 
 vernor, in their dresses of ceremony, giving that 
 antichamber an air of almost regal state; and 
 through the midst of them was passing, at the 
 moment, a party of the high nobles of the 
 province, who had just arrived before the Count 
 came in. 
 
 Though not above one half of the invited 
 had yet appeared, there were numerous groups 
 in every part of the rooms ; and at more than 
 one of the tables, which, as customary in that 
 age, were set out for play, the young Count 
 found persons whom he knew, and stopped to 
 speak with them as he advanced. The Duke 
 and Duchess de Rouvre had taken their station 
 in the great saloon; but in the smaller saloon 
 immediately preceding it, Albert de Morseiul 
 paused by one of the tables, to speak to the 
 Prince de Marsillac, who was leaning against it ; 
 
 VOL. I. O 
 
194- THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 not playing, but turning liis back with an air 
 of indifference upon the scene beyond. 
 
 " Ah, Monsieur dc Morseiul," he said, " it 
 is an unexpected pleasure to see you here; I 
 thought you were in Flanders.'* 
 
 " I was so fourteen days ago," replied the 
 Count; " but as little did I expect to see you." 
 
 " Oh, this is in some sort my native country," 
 replied the Prince ; " and being here upon 
 family affairs, I could not, of course, hesitate to 
 come and grace the first entertainment of the 
 good Duke. There seems a promise of a 
 goodly assembly ; and, indeed, there are at- 
 tractions enough, what between a new governor, 
 a new governess, and Clemence de Marly." 
 
 " And pray who is Clemence de Marly?" 
 demanded the Count. " I am a rustic, you see, 
 and have never yet heard of her." 
 
 '* Rustic, indeed ! " said the Prince ; " why 
 all the Parisian world is mad about her. She is 
 the most admired, the most adored, I may say, 
 of all the stars or comets, or what not, that have 
 appeared in my day; as beautiful as Hebe, as 
 graceful as the brightest of the Graces, as proud 
 as Juno, about ten times colder than Diana, 
 and as witty as Madame de Cornuel. People 
 began to fancy that the King himself was in 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 195 
 
 love with her ; only you know that now, under 
 the domination L'Amie de I'Amie, those days of 
 folly and scandal have gone by, and, on my 
 word, the saucy beauty treated majesty no 
 better than she does nobility. I myself heard 
 her " 
 
 "But who is Clemence de Marly?" de- 
 manded the Count again ; " you have not satis- 
 fied me, Marsillac. Of what race or family 
 is she ? I know of no such name or family con- 
 nected with the Rouvres." 
 
 The Prince replied in a lower tone, " She is 
 an orphan, a foundling, an any thing you like. 
 Some say," he added in a whisper, " a natural 
 child of the King's own ; but others again, and 
 this is the true story, say that she is a natural 
 child of De Rouvre's. There was a tale some 
 time ago, you know, before he married, about 
 
 him and the Countess de , a person of very 
 
 large fortune ; and as this girl has wealth at 
 command, and lives always with the Rouvres, 
 there can be no doubt of the matter. Madame 
 de Rouvre, having no family, wisely treats her 
 as her child, and spoils her as if she were her 
 grandchild. They used to say she was to be 
 married to your friend the Chevalier d'Evran, 
 whom I saw hanging at her elbow just now. 
 o 2 
 
196 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 Hericourt vows that he will cut the throat of 
 any man who marries her without his consent ; 
 but Louvois is supposed to have laid out a 
 match for her even nearer to his race than that; 
 Segnelai is not without hopes of carrying off the 
 prize for some of his people ; and they seem in 
 these days to care no more for the bend sinister 
 than if the Adam and Eve laws still prevailed, 
 and we were all the children of nature to- 
 gether." 
 
 *' This is the fair lady that d'Evran has been 
 talking to me about," replied the Count ; " but 
 he talked of her and her beauty so coolly, that 
 I can scarcely suppose he is much in love." 
 
 " Just come round hither and look at him 
 then," said Marsillac, moving a little farther 
 down, so as to give a fuller view into the other 
 room. " You know d'Evran's way of being 
 in love ; lying down upon a sofa and playing 
 with a feather fan, while the lady stands at the 
 distance of two yards from him, and he says 
 more clever things to her in five minutes than 
 any body else can say in an hour. There he is 
 doing it even now." 
 
 The Count moved slowly into the place 
 which Marsillac had left for him, so as not 
 to attract attention by flagrant examination of 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 197 
 
 what was going on, and then raised his eyes 
 towards the part of the great saloon at which 
 the Prince had been looking. The group that 
 they lighted on was certainl}^ in every respect a 
 singular one. In the centre of it stood or 
 rather leaned beside a high-backed chair, in an 
 attitude of the most perfect grace that it is pos- 
 sible to conceive, v/hich could not have been 
 studied, for there was ease and nature in every 
 line, a young lady, apparently of one or two 
 and twenty years of age, whose beauty was 
 both of a very exquisite and a very singular 
 cast. It fully justified the description which 
 had been given of it by the Chevalier d'Evran ; 
 the eyes were deep deep blue, but fringed with 
 long and dark lashes, thickset but smooth, and 
 sweeping in one even graceful fringe. The lips 
 were, indeed, twin roses ; the complexion de- 
 licately fair, and yet the face bearing in the 
 cheek the warm hue of undiminished health. 
 Those lips, even when not speaking, were 
 always a little, a very little, parted, showing the 
 bright pearl-like teeth beneath ; the brow was 
 smooth and fair, and yet the eyebrow which 
 marked the exact line of the forehead above 
 the eyes, changed, by the slightest elevation 
 or depression, the whole aspect of the counte- 
 o 3 
 
198 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 nance with every passing emotion. With every 
 change, too, the other features harmonised, 
 and there was a bright sparklingness about 
 the face, even at that distance, which made 
 it, to the eyes of the Count, resemble a lovely 
 landscape in an early summer morning, where 
 every thing seems fresh life and brightness. 
 The ear, too, which was slightly turned to- 
 wards them, was most beautiful ; and the form, 
 though the dress of that day did not serve to 
 expose it much, was seen swelling through 
 the drapery in every line of exquisite beauty. 
 The hand, the arm, the foot, the neck and 
 throat, were all perfect as any sculptor could 
 have desired to model; and the whole, with 
 the grace of the attitude and the beauty of 
 the expression, formed an object that one 
 might have well wished to look at for long 
 hours. 
 
 On the right of the lady, precisely as the 
 Prince had described him, lay the Chevalier 
 d'Evran, richly dressed, and, perhaps, affecting 
 a little more indifference than he really felt. 
 Half kneeling, half sitting, at her feet, was 
 the Marquis de Hericourt, saying nothing, but 
 looking up in her face with an expression 
 which plainly implied that he was marvelling 
 
THE HUGUEJJOT. 199 
 
 whether she or himself were the loveliest crea- 
 ture upon earth. On her left hand stood a 
 gentleman whom the Count instantly recognised 
 as one of the highest and most distinguished 
 nobles of the court of Louis XIV., several 
 years older than either the Marquis or the 
 Chevalier, but still apparently as much if not 
 more smitten than either. Behind her, and 
 round about her, in various attitudes, were 
 half a dozen others, each striving to catch 
 her attention for a single moment ; but it was 
 to the elder gentleman whom we have men- 
 tioned that she principally listened, except, 
 indeed, when some witticism of the Chevalier 
 caused her to turn and smile upon him for a 
 moment. Amongst the rest of the little train 
 behind her w^ere two personages, for neither of 
 whom the Count de Morseiul entertained any 
 very great esteem : the Chevalier de Rohan, a 
 ruined and dissipated scion of one of the first 
 families in France, and a gentleman of the name 
 of Hatreoumont, whom the Count had known 
 while serving with the army in Flanders, and 
 who, though brave as a lion, bore such a cha- 
 racter for restless and unprincipled scheming, 
 that the Count had soon reduced their com- 
 munication to a mere passing bow. 
 o 4 
 
200 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 All the rest of those who surrounded her were 
 distinguished as far as high station and wealth 
 went, and many were marked for higher and 
 better qualities ; but, in general, she seemed to 
 treat them all as mere slaves, sending one hither 
 with a message, and another thither for some- 
 thing that she wanted, with an air of proud 
 command, as if they were born but to obey her 
 will. 
 
 The group was, as we have said, an inte- 
 resting and a curious one ; but what was there 
 in it that made the Count de Morseiul turn 
 deadly pale ? What was there in it that made 
 his heart beat with feelings which he had never 
 known before in gazing at any proud beauty of 
 this world ? What was it made him expe- 
 rience different sensations towards that lady, 
 the first time that he beheld her, from those 
 which he had ever felt towards others ? 
 
 Was it the first time that he had ever beheld 
 her ? Oh, no. There, though the features were 
 somewhat changed by the passing of a few years, 
 though the beauty of the girl had expanded 
 into the beauty of the woman, though the form 
 had acquired roundness and contour without 
 losing one line of grace, there, in that counte- 
 nance and in that form, he beheld again the 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 201 
 
 dream of his young imagination ; there he saw 
 her of whom he had thought so often, and with 
 whose image he had sported in fancy, till the 
 playfellow of his imagination had become the 
 master of his feelings : and now that he did see 
 her, he saw her in a situation and under cir- 
 cumstances that gave him pain. All the beauty 
 of person indeed which he had so much admired 
 was there; but all those charms of the heart 
 and of the mind, which his fancy had read in 
 the book of that beauty seemed now reversed, 
 and he saw hut a spoilt, proud, lovely girl, 
 apparently as vain and frivolous as the rest of a 
 vain and frivolous court. 
 
 " You are silent long, de Morseiul," said the 
 Prince de Marsillac ; "you are silent very 
 long. You seem amongst the smitten, my good 
 friend. What I shall we see the fair lands and 
 chateaux of the first Protestant gentleman in 
 France laid at the feet of yon pretty dame? 
 Take my advice, Morseiul ; take the advice of 
 an elder man than yourself. Order your horses 
 to be saddled early to-morrow morning, and 
 get you back to your castle or to the army. 
 Even if she were to have you, Morseiul, she 
 would never suit you: her heart, man, is as 
 cold as a Russian winter, and as hard as the 
 
202 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 nether millstone, and never in this world will she 
 love any other thing but her own pretty self.' 
 
 " I am not at all afraid of her," replied the 
 Count ; " I have seen her before, and was only 
 admiring the group around her." 
 
 " Seen her and forgotten her ! " exclaimed 
 Marsillac, " so as not to remember her when I 
 spoke of her ! In the name of Heaven let her not 
 hear that. Nay, tell it not at the court, if you 
 would maintain your reputation for wit, wis- 
 dom, and good taste. But I suppose, in fact, 
 you are as cold as she is. Go and speak to 
 her, Morseiul ; go and speak to her, for I see 
 indeed you are quite safe." 
 
 "Not I, indeed," said the Count; "I shall 
 go and speak to the Duke and his excellent 
 lady : and I suppose in time shall have to go 
 through all sorts of necessary formalities with la 
 belle Clemence ; but till it is needful I have 
 no inclination to increase any lady's vanity who 
 seems to have so much of it already." 
 
 Thus saying, he turned away, only hearing 
 the Prince exclaim, "O mighty Sybarite!" and 
 moving with easy grace through the room, he 
 advanced into the great saloon, cast his eyes 
 round the whole extent, looking for the Duke 
 and Duchess, and passing over la belle Clemence 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 203 
 
 and her party with a mere casual glance, as if 
 he scarcely saw or noticed her. There was an 
 immediate whisper in the little group itself; 
 several of those around took upon tliem to tell 
 her who he was, and all eyes followed him as 
 with the same calm and graceful, but somewhat 
 stately, steps he advanced to the spot where the 
 Duke and Duchess were placed, and was warmly 
 greeted by the latter as an old and valued 
 friend. 
 
 She made a place for him by her side, ana 
 leaning down from time to time by the good old 
 lady's chair, he took the opportunity of each 
 interval between the appearance of the new 
 guests to address to her some little kindly and 
 graceful observation, calling back her memory 
 to old times, when she had fondled his boyhood, 
 and, by mingling perhaps a little of the melan- 
 choly that adheres to the past with more cheer- 
 ful subjects, rendered them thereby not the less 
 pleasant. 
 
 The Duchess was well pleased with his at- 
 tention, and for some time seemed inclined to 
 enjoy it alone ; but at length she said, " I 
 must not keep you here. Count, all night, 
 or I shall have the Duke jealous at sixty, 
 which would never do. You must go and say 
 
204 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 sweet things, as in duty bound, to younger 
 dames than I am. See, there is Mademoiselle 
 de Fronsac, as pretty a creature as ever was 
 seen, and our Clemence. You know Cle- 
 mence, do you not? — but look, Mademoiselle 
 de Fronsac, as if to give you a fair opportunity, 
 has dropped her bracelet." 
 
 The Count advanced to pick up the bracelet 
 for the young lady to whom his attention had 
 been called ; but his purpose was anticipated by 
 a gentleman who stood near, and at the same 
 moment the Chevalier seeing his friend de- 
 tached from the side of the Duchess, crossed 
 the saloon towards him, and took him by the 
 arm. "Come, Albert," he said, "come! this 
 is affectation. You must come and undergo 
 the ordeal of those bright eyes. She has been 
 speaking of you, and with deep interest, I 
 assure you." 
 
 The Count smiled. " To mortify some culprit 
 lover ! " he said, " or give a pang to some young 
 foolish heart. Was it you, Louis?" he asked 
 in the same tone ; " was it you she sought to 
 teaze, by speaking with interest of another ?" 
 
 " You are wrong, Albert," said the Chevalier 
 in a low voice, leading liim gradually towards 
 the spot, " you are wrong — I do not seek Cle- 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 205 
 
 mence de Marly. My resolution has long been 
 taken. I shall never marry — nor would any 
 consideration upon earth lead her to marry me. 
 I know that full well ; but while I say so, I tell 
 you too that you do her injustice. You must 
 not judge of her at once." 
 
 They were now within a few steps of the spot 
 where Clemence stood, and the Count, who had 
 been looking down while he advanced, listening 
 to the low words of the Chevalier, now raised 
 his eyes as the other took a step forward to in- 
 troduce him. To his surprise he saw the colour 
 varying in the cheek of the lovely being before 
 whom he stood, and a slight degree of flutter in 
 her manner and appearance, which Albert de 
 Morseiul could only account for by supposing 
 that the scene in which they had last met, the 
 robbers, and the wood, and the plunder of the 
 carriage, had risen up before her eyes, and pro- 
 duced the agitation he saw in one, who was 
 apparently so self-possessed in her usual de- 
 meanour. There upon her finger too, he saw 
 the identical ring that he had saved for her 
 from the robbers ; and as he was in no way 
 vain, he attributed the heightened colour to 
 all those remembrances. But while he recalled 
 that evening, his feelings towards Clemence 
 
206 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 grew less severe — he felt there was a tie be- 
 tween them of some interest, he felt too that 
 her demeanour then had been very different 
 from that which it appeared to be now\ Though 
 scarcely ten words had been spoken in the wood, 
 those words had been all indicative of deep 
 feelings and strong affections ; there had been 
 the signs of the heart, the clinging memories 
 of love, the pure sensations of an unworldly 
 spirit; and when he now gazed upon her, 
 surrounded by flatterers and lovers, heartless 
 herself, and seeming to take no delight but in 
 sporting with the hearts of others, the ancient 
 story of the two separate spirits in the same 
 form seemed realised before him, and he knew 
 not how to reconcile the opposite traits that he 
 observed. 
 
 All this passed through his mind in a mo- 
 ment. Rapid thought, that, winging its way 
 along the high road of time, can cover years in 
 a single instant, had glanced over all that we 
 have said, even while the words of introduc- 
 tion were hanging upon the tongue of the Che- 
 valier d'Evran. The Count bowed low but 
 gravely, met the full glance of those lustrous 
 eyes without the slighest change of countenance, 
 and was about to have added some common 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 207 
 
 place and formal compliment ; but Clcmence de 
 Marly spoke first. 
 
 " I sent the Chevalier to yon, Monsieur de 
 Morseiul," she said with the same musical voice 
 wliich he remembered so well, " because you 
 seemed not to recognise me ; and I wished to 
 thank you for a service that you rendered long 
 ago to a wild girl who might probably have been 
 killed by a fiery horse that she was riding, had 
 you not stopped it, and given her back the rein 
 which she had lost. Perhaps you have forgotten 
 it, for I hear that great acts are so common to 
 the Count de Morseiul that he is likely not to 
 recollect what was to him a trifling event. To 
 me, however, the service was important, and I 
 have not forgotten either it or the person who 
 rendered it." 
 
 The eye of the Chevalier d'Evran was upon 
 the Count de Morseiul while the lady spoke, and 
 there was a sparkling brightness in it which his 
 friend scarcely understood. At the same time, 
 however, it was scarcely possible for human 
 nature to hear such words from such lips totally 
 unmoved. 
 
 " Your pardon, madam," replied the Count, 
 " I have never forgotten the adventure either ; 
 but I did not expect that you would have re- 
 
208 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 membered so trifling a service. I recollected 
 you the moment that I saw you ; but did not of 
 course venture to claim to be recognised on the 
 merit of so insignificant an act." 
 
 " I can answer for his not having forgotten 
 it," said the Chevalier d'Evran, " for it is not 
 more than five or six days ago. Mademoiselle de 
 Marly, that he told me the whole circumstances, 
 and if I would I could mention " 
 
 The colour rose slightly in the Count de 
 Morseiul's cheek, as the Chevalier d'Evran gazed 
 upon him with a malicious smile ; but the latter, 
 however, paused in his career, only adding, " If 
 I would, I could mention all this grave Count's 
 comments upon that event ; — but I suppose I 
 must not." 
 
 " Nay, nay," exclaimed Clemence, " I insist 
 upon your telling us. You are our bondsman 
 and slave. As you have vowed worship and true 
 service, I command you, Monsieur le Chevalier, 
 to tell the whole without reserve — to give us 
 the secrets of the enemy's camp." 
 
 " I hope, madam," said the Count, willing 
 to turn the conversation, and yet knowing very 
 well that he might obviate his own purpose if he 
 showed any anxiety to do so, " I hope, madam, 
 that you do not class me amongst the enemy ; 
 
TilE HUGUENOT. 209 
 
 if you do, I can assure you, you are very much 
 mistaken." 
 
 " That is what I wish to know, Count," re- 
 plied the lady, smiling; " it is for that very pur- 
 pose of knowing whether you are of the friends 
 or the enemies, that I put the Chevalier here 
 upon his honour as to your comments." 
 
 " I suppose, madam," said the elder gentle- 
 man to whom she had been speaking during tlit 
 former part of the evening, and who did not 
 seem at all well pleased with the interruption 
 occasioned by the Count's presence, " I sup- 
 pose, madam, if you put the Chevalier upon 
 his honour, he will be obliged to keep secret 
 that which was intrusted to him in con- 
 fidence." 
 
 Clemence turned and gazed at him for a mo- 
 ment in silence, and then said, " You are right, 
 Monsieur le Due de Melcourt, though I did not 
 think to hear you take part against me. I will 
 find means to punish you, and to show you my 
 power and authority in a way that perhaps you 
 do not know. Monsieur le Chevalier, we shall 
 excuse you for your contumacy, having the means 
 of arriving at information by a higher power. 
 Monsieur de Morseiul," she continued, raising 
 her head with a look of queenly authority, " we 
 
 VOL. I. P 
 
210 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 command you to give us the information your- 
 self; but that the ears of these worthy cavaliers 
 and gentlemen who stand around may not be 
 gratified by the intelligence, we will permit you 
 to lead us to the dance which we see they are 
 preparing for in the other room." 
 
 She extended her hand towards him. He 
 could not of course refuse to take it ; and after 
 giving one glance of gay and haughty irony at 
 the group she left behind, Clemence de Marly 
 moved forward towards the other room with 
 Albert of Morseiul. With the same air of proud 
 consciousness she passed through the whole of 
 the first saloon ; but the moment that she en- 
 tered the second, which was comparatively va- 
 cant, as the dancers w^ere gathering in the third, 
 her manner entirely altered. The Count felt her 
 hand rest somewhat languidly in his ; her carriage 
 lost a great degree of its stately dignity ; the 
 look of coquettish pride passed away ; and she 
 said, " Monsieur de Morseiul, I need not tell you 
 that my object in exercising, in this instance, that 
 right of doing any thing that I like unquestioned 
 which I have found it convenient to assume, is 
 not to ask you any foolish question of what you 
 may have said or thought concerning a person 
 but little worthy of your thoughts at all. Per- 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 211 
 
 haps, indeed, you may have ah'eady guessed my 
 object in thus forcing you, as it were, to dance 
 with me against your will ; but that does not 
 render it the less necessary for me to take the 
 first, perhaps the^'only opportunity I may have 
 of thanking you deeply, sincerely, and truly, for 
 the great service, and the kind, the manly, the 
 chivalrous manner in which it was performed, 
 that you rendered me on the night of Monday 
 last. I have my own particular reasons — and 
 perhaps may have reasons also for many other 
 things that appear strange — for not wishing that 
 adventure to be mentioned any where. Although 
 I had with me two servants attached to the car- 
 riage, and also my old and faithful attendant 
 whom you saw, there was no chance of my secret 
 being betrayed by any one but by you. I was 
 not sure that I had made my wishes plain when 
 I left you, and was anxious about to-night ; but 
 I saw in a moment from your whole demeanour 
 in entering the room that I was quite safe, and 
 I may add my thanks for that, to my thanks for 
 the service itself" 
 
 " The service, lady, required no thanks," re- 
 plied the Count. " I do believe there is not a 
 gentleman in France that would not have done 
 the same for any woman upon earth." 
 p 2 
 
212 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 Clcmence shook her head with a grave — eren 
 a melancholy look, replying, " You estimate 
 them too highly, Count. We women have bet- 
 ter opportunities of judging them ; and I know 
 that there are not three gentlemen in France, and 
 perhaps six in Europe, who would do any thing 
 for any woman without some selfish, if not some 
 base motive — unless his own gratification were 
 consulted rather than her comfort." 
 
 " Nay, nay, nay ; you are bitter, indeed,'* 
 said the Count. " On my word I believe that 
 there is not one French gentleman who would 
 not, as I have said, have done the same for any 
 woman ; and certainly when it was done for you, 
 any little merit that it might have had otherwise, 
 was quite lost." 
 
 " Hush, hush," said Clemence, with a blush 
 and a somewhat reproachful smile, " hush, 
 hush. Monsieur de Morseiul ; you forget that I 
 am accustomed to hear such sweet speeches from 
 morning till night, and know their right value. 
 If you would prove to me that you really esteem 
 me, do not take your tone from those empty 
 coxcombs that flutter through such scenes as 
 these. Be to me, as far as we are brought into 
 communication together, the same Count de 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 213 
 
 Morseiul tliat I have heard you are to others, 
 frank, straiglitforward, sincere." 
 
 " Indeed I will," replied the Count, feeling 
 the full influence of all his fanciful dreams in 
 the past, reviving in the present; " but will you 
 never be offended ? " 
 
 " There is little chance," she replied as they 
 moved on, " that we sliould ever see enough of 
 each other for me to be offended. You, I hear, 
 avoid the court as far as possible. I am doomed 
 to spend the greater part of my life there ; and I 
 fear there is very little chance of the Duke, my 
 guardian, going to the quiet shades of Ruffign}^, 
 where first I had the pleasure of seeing you." 
 
 " Were you then at Ruffigny when I first 
 saw you ? " demanded the Count with some 
 surprise. 
 
 "Yes," she answered ; "but I was staying- 
 there with some of my own relations, who were 
 on a visit to the Duke. Do you remember — I 
 dare say you do not — do you remember meet- 
 ingme some days after with a party on horse- 
 back ? » 
 
 " Yes," he replied, " I have it all before my 
 eyes even now." 
 
 " And the lady who was upon my left hand ?" 
 she said. 
 
 P 3 
 
214 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 *' Quite well," replied the Count ; " was that 
 your mother ? " 
 
 " Alas, no," replied Clemence, " that was 
 my step-mother ; my mother died three years 
 before. But to return to what we were saying, I 
 do not pretend to be less vain than other women, 
 and therefore can scarcely answer for it, that, 
 if you were to tell me harsh truths, I might not 
 be offended ; but I will tell you what. Monsieur 
 de Morseiul, I would try — I would try as stea- 
 dily as possible, not to be offended ; and even if 
 I were, I know my own mind sufficiently to say 
 I would conquer it before the sun went down 
 twice.'* 
 
 " That is all that I could desire," replied the 
 Count ; " and if you promise me to do so, I will 
 always be sincere and straightforward with 
 you." 
 
 *' What an opportunity that promise gives," 
 replied the lady, " of asking you to be sincere 
 at once, and tell me what were the comments of 
 which the Chevalier spoke. Would that be un- 
 generous. Monsieur de Morseiul ? " 
 
 " I think it would," replied the Count; 
 " but I will pledge myself to one thing, that if 
 you keep your promise towards me for one 
 month, and take no offence at any thing I may 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 215 
 
 say, 1 will tell you myself what those com- 
 ments were without the slightest concealment 
 whatsoever," 
 
 The eyes of Clemence de Marly sparkled, 
 as she answered, " You shall see ; " but they 
 had lingered so long that the dance was on the 
 eve of commencing, and they were forced to 
 hurry on into the other room. There the Count 
 found the eyes of the Prince de Marsillac where- 
 ever he turned ; and there was a peculiar ex- 
 pression on his countenance — not precisely a 
 smile, but yet approaching to it — with a slight 
 touch of sarcastic bitterness on the lip, which was 
 annoying. Could the Count have heard, how- 
 ever, the conversation that w^as going on amongst 
 tw^o or three of the group which he and Cle- 
 mence had quitted shortly before, he might 
 have felt still more annoyed. There were three 
 persons who took but a small part in that con- 
 versation, the Chevalier, the young Mai;quis de 
 Hericourt, and the Due de Melcourt. It was one 
 of those that stood behind who who first spoke. 
 
 " How long will she be?" he demanded. 
 
 " In doing what ? " said another. 
 
 " In fixing the fetters," replied the first ; " in 
 making him one of the train." 
 
 " Not two whole days," said the secoiid. 
 p 4 
 
216 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 *^ Not two whole hours I say," added a third; 
 *• Jook at them now, how they stand in the mid- 
 dle chamber : depend upon it when the Count 
 comes back we shall all have to make him our 
 bow, and welcome him as one of us." 
 
 There was a little shrivelled old man who sat 
 behind, and had, as yet, said nothing. 
 
 " He will never be one of you, gentlemen," 
 he now said, joining in, " he will never be one 
 of you, for he sets out with a great advantage 
 over you." 
 
 " What is that ? " demanded two or three 
 voices at once. 
 
 " Why," replied the old man, '' he is the first 
 man under sixty I ever heard her even civil to 
 in my life. There is Monsieur ie Due there; 
 you know he's out of the question, because he's 
 past the age." 
 
 The Due de Mel court looked a little mortified, 
 and said, '' Sir, you are mistaken ; and at all 
 events she never said any thing civil to you, 
 though you are so much past the age." 
 
 •' I never asked her," replied the other. 
 
 " But there is the Chevolier d'Evran," replied 
 one of the younger men, " she has said three 
 or four civil things to him this very night : — I 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 217 
 
 " As much bitter as sweet in them," replied 
 the old man ; " but, at all events, she does not 
 love him." 
 
 " She loves me more than you know," said 
 the Chevalier quietly ; and tvu'nmg on his heel 
 he went to join a gay party on the opposite side 
 of the room, and perversely paid devoted atten- 
 tion to a fair lady whom he cared nothing about, 
 and to whom the morals of any other court 
 would have required him to pay no attentions 
 but those of ordinary civility. 
 
218 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 THE GROWTH OF LOVE. 
 
 The entertainment was kept up late; many of tlie 
 guests scarcely departed before daylight ; those 
 who were invited to remain the night at the 
 governor's house, retired when they thought 
 fit ; and every one acknowledged that this 
 was the most splendid and the most agreeable 
 fete that had been given in Poitiers for many 
 years. What were the feelings, however, of the 
 Count de Morseiul as, at an hour certainly not 
 later than one in the morning, he sought his 
 own apartments? We must not afford those 
 feelings much space ; and we will only record 
 what he saw before he left the hall, leaving the 
 mind of the reader to supply the rest. 
 
 On leading back Clemence de Marly to her 
 seat, he had entered into conversation for a 
 moment with some persons whom he knew ; 
 and when he turned towards her again, he saw 
 not only that she was surrounded by almost all 
 those who had been about her before, but that 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 219 
 
 a number of young cavaliers freshly arrived 
 had swelled her train, and that her demeanour 
 was precisely the same as that which liad, at 
 his first entrance, removed her from the high 
 place in which his imagination had enthroned 
 her. Every flattery seemed to be received as 
 merely her due — every attention but as a 
 tribute that she had a right to command. On 
 some of her slaves she smiled more graciously 
 than on others, but certainly was not without 
 giving that encouragement to many which may 
 be afforded by saucy harshness as much as by 
 attention and condescension. She did not, in- 
 deed, dance frequently* ; that was a favour re- 
 served for few ; but the whole of the rest of her 
 conduct displeased Albert of Morseiul ; and he 
 was grieved — very much grieved — to feel 
 that it had power to give him pain. 
 
 Under these circumstances, then, he resolved 
 to witness it no more, and retired to his own 
 apartments, determined, as far as possible, to 
 conquer his own feelings while they were yet 
 to be conquered, and to rule his heart so long 
 as it was his own to rule. 
 
 * On many occasions each lady remained with her first 
 partner during the whole of a ball night ; but this was not 
 invariable. 
 
220 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 It was late on the following morning before 
 any of the guests assembled at the breakfast- 
 table; but when the whole had met, the party 
 was so large, that but little pleasant conversation 
 could take place with any one. The Duke de 
 Rouvrepaid the greatest attention to the Count, 
 and displayed a marked anxiety to distinguish 
 and to please him. Clcmence de Marly was 
 entirely surrounded by her little train ; and her 
 pleasure in the homage she received seemed 
 evident to Albert of Morseiul. The Chevalier 
 d'Evran was somewhat thoughtful and grave, 
 and more than once turned his eyes quickly from 
 the face of Clemence to tliat of his friend. In 
 the hours that had lately passed, however, 
 Albert of Morseiul had practised the lesson of 
 commanding himself, which he bad learnt long 
 before, and he was now perfect at the task. 
 He took no notice whatsoever of the fair girl's 
 demeanour towards others ; and though, as usual, 
 calm and grave, he bore his part in the con- 
 versation with earnestness and attention; and 
 it so happened that on more than one occasion 
 something was said which called up the deep 
 poetical fire of his nature, and led him briefly 
 to pour forth in eloquent v.ords the fine and 
 high-toned feelings of bis heart. 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 221 
 
 All who were present knew his high character, 
 and all were struck with his words and with 
 his manner ; so that once or twice, even when 
 speaking casually on things of no very great 
 importance, he was annoyed at finding a sudden 
 deep silence spread round the table, and every 
 one listening to what he said. If any thing could 
 have repaid him for the annoyance, it might 
 have been to see the lustrous eyes of Clemence 
 de Marly fixed intent upon his countenance 
 till they met his, and then dropped with a 
 slight heightening of the colour, or turned 
 sparkling to those round her, while her lips gave 
 utterance to some gay jest, intended to cover the 
 fit of eager attention in which she had been 
 detected. 
 
 Alas, however, it must be owned, that to 
 find those eyes so gazing upon him was no 
 compensation, but rather was painful to Albert 
 of Morseiul : for it only served to encourage 
 feelings which he was determined to conquer. 
 He would fain have had it otherwise ; he would 
 have felt nothing but calm indifference towards 
 Clemence de Marly; and yet he knew, from 
 what he had experienced on the preceding night, 
 that he did not feel towards her entirely as he did 
 towards other women. He thought, however, 
 
222 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 that by dedicating himself altogether to the 
 great and important subject which had filled his 
 thoughts when he came to Poitiers, by giving 
 up all his thoughts to that, and by making 
 his stay as brief as possible, he should be en- 
 abled to avoid those things, both in the society of 
 Clemence herself, and in his own inmost thoughts, 
 which might become dangerous to his peace. 
 
 During the course of breakfast he revolved 
 these things in his mind, and before it was over 
 his thoughts were more strongly directed than 
 ever to| the affairs of the Protestants, by the 
 appearance of the Abbes de St. Helie and Pe- 
 lisson. He determined then to endeavour, as 
 far as possible, in the very first instance, to dis- 
 cover from them what was the nature of the 
 measures about to be pursued by the court of 
 France towards the Huguenots. In the next 
 place, he purposed to inquire explicitly of the 
 Due de Rouvre what course of conduct he in- 
 tended to follow towards the Protestants of the 
 province ; and, • having ascertained these facts, 
 to consult with all the wisest and the best of 
 the Huguenot leaders, who might happen to be 
 at Poitiers, to determine with them the line of 
 action to be followed, according to circumstances, 
 and then to return at once to Morseiul. 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 223 
 
 He took an opportunity then, as soon as 
 breakfast was over, of conversing with Pelisson 
 and St. Helioj while the Duke and Duchess of 
 Rouvre were busy in receiving the adieus of 
 some of their departing guests. With the frank 
 sincerity of his native character he demanded, 
 straightforwardly, of the two ecclesiastics, what 
 was the course of conduct that their commis- 
 sion directed them to pursue ; and Pelisson had 
 half replied, saying, that they had better open 
 their commission at once before the Duke de 
 Rouvre, and see the contents, when his more 
 cunning and politic friend interrupted him, 
 saying, that he had express orders not to open 
 the packet till the meeting of the states, which 
 was to take place in about eight days. This an- 
 nouncement differing, in some degree, from the 
 account which he had given before, excited not 
 unjustly the Count's suspicion; and, knowing 
 that he should have a more candid reply from 
 the Duke himself, he determined, in the next 
 instance, to apply to him. 
 
 He did so not long after, and the Duke 
 retired with him into his library. 
 
 " My dear Morseiul," he said, grasping the 
 young Count's hand, "you know that I myself 
 am an advocate for the utmost toleration, that I 
 
224 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 am so far from entertaining any ill will towards 
 my brethren who differ with me in some re- 
 spects, that more than one of my relations have 
 married Huguenots. This is very well known 
 at the court also. The King is fully aware of 
 it, and I cannot but hope that my late appoint- 
 ment, as governor of this province, is a sign that, 
 notwithstanding all the rumours lately afloat, his 
 Majesty intends to deal kindly and well with all 
 denominations of his subjects. 1 must not conceal 
 from you, however, that there are rumours in 
 Paris of a different kind ; that there are not 
 people wanting who declare that the King and 
 his council are determined no longer to have 
 any more than one religion in France, and that 
 the most vigorous means are to be employed to 
 carry this resolution into effect. Nor shall I 
 attempt to deny to you, that the coming of 
 Pelisson and St. Helie here seems to me a 
 very ominous and unpleasant occurrence. The 
 presence of the first I should care little about, 
 as he is frank, and I believe sincere, wishes well, 
 and would always act kindly ; but the other is a 
 shrewd knave, a bigot, I believe, more by policy 
 than by any great devotion for our holy church, 
 malevolent, selfish, and cunning. They bear a 
 commission which, it seems, is not to be onened 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 225 
 
 till the meeting of the states. This looks like 
 a purpose of controlling me in my own govern- 
 ment, of putting a power over me whereof I am 
 to stand in awe. Now, should I find that such 
 is the case, I shall undoubtedly beseech his 
 Majesty to permit me to retire from public life." 
 " For Heaven's sake do not do so just at pre- 
 sent," said the Count de Morseiul. " We have 
 need, my dear friend, of every moderate and en- 
 lightened man like yourself to keep the country 
 quiet at a moment w^hen affairs seem verging 
 towards a terrible convulsion. You must re- 
 member, and I hope the King will remember, 
 that the Protestants are a great and important 
 body in France; that there are two or three 
 millions of us in this country; that we demand 
 nothing but the calm and quiet exercise of our 
 own religious opinions; but that, at the same 
 time, there are many resolute and determined 
 men amongst us, and many eager and fiery 
 spirits, who may be urged into acts of resistance 
 if they be opprest. All wise and sensible Hugue- 
 nots will endeavour, as far as may be, to seek 
 peace and tranquillity ; but suppose that resist- 
 ance be once begun, in consequence of an at- 
 tempt to debar us of the free exercise of the 
 rights secured to us by the edict of Nantes, can 
 
 VOL. I. Q 
 
226 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 the King, or any body else, expect even his 
 most loyal and best-intentioned Protestant sub- 
 jects to aid in keeping down and oppressing 
 their brethren ? " 
 
 " Not in oppressing, not in oppressing, my 
 dear Count," said the Duke ; " we must not 
 attribute to our beloved sovereign even the 
 thought of oppressing his subjects." 
 
 " Nothing but oppression could drive any of 
 us to resistance," replied the Count; ** and it is 
 not from the King at all that we anticipate op- 
 pression, but from those that surround him. 
 .^eed I point to Louvois, to whom the King, 
 ?by his own acknowledgment, yields his own 
 ^ better judgment ? " 
 
 The Duke was silent, and his voun^ friend 
 - proceeded : "•' If we have not to fear oppression, 
 »_my lord, there is nothing to be feared through- 
 vfout the land but if we have, I would fain 
 knovv' what shape that oppression is likely to 
 take, both as a sincere member of what we call 
 the reformed church, and as a loyal and de- 
 voted subject of the King. I would fain know, 
 in order that, in my own neighbourhood, and 
 amongst my own people, I may do all in my 
 power to maintain peace and tranquillity ; which 
 I cannot at all answer for, if such proclamations 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 227 
 
 be suddenly made amongst the people when 
 they are unprepared, as were made five days 
 ago in my town of Morseiul, nearly creating a 
 serious disturbance therein. The appearance 
 of the military, also, did infinite harm, and the 
 renewal of such scenes might quickly irritate 
 a small body of the people into revolt; that 
 small body would be joined by greater numbers, 
 and the flame of civil war would spread through- 
 out the country." 
 
 " The proclamation," replied the Duke, "was 
 the King's, and of course it was necessary to 
 make it instantly. With regard to the military, 
 the intendant of the province demanded that a 
 force should be sent to insure that the proclam- 
 ation was made peacefully; so having no one 
 else in whom I could at all trust, I sent vouns: 
 Hericourt, with as small a force as possible, as I 
 could not, of course, refuse the application." 
 
 " Of the intendant of the province, my dear 
 Duke," replied the Count, *' I shall say nothing, 
 except that he is as opposite as possible in 
 mind, in character, and manners to the Due de 
 Rouvre. A man of low origin, chosen from the 
 Maitres cles requetes, as all these intendants are, 
 cannot be supposed to view such questions in 
 a grand and fine point of view. Individual in- 
 Q 2 
 
228 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 Stances certainly may sometimes occur, but un- 
 fortunately they have not occurred in Poitiers. 
 Our only safety is in the Due de Rouvre ; but 
 I am most anxious, if possible, to act in con- 
 cert with him in keeping tranquillity through- 
 out the province." 
 
 " I know you are, my dear young friend, I 
 know you are," replied the Duke; " wait, how- 
 ever, for a few days. I expect several other 
 gentlemen in Poitiers of your persuasion in 
 reliorious matters. I will see and confer with 
 you all as to what may be done, in the best spirit 
 towards you, believe me. I have sent, or am send- 
 ing, letters to every eminent man of the so-called 
 reformed religion throughout this district, beg- 
 ging him to give me the aid of his advice. 
 V/hen we have others here, we can take counsel 
 together, and act accordingly." 
 
 The young Count of course submitted, 
 whatever were the private reasons which in- 
 duced him to wish to quit Poitiers as soon as 
 possible. He felt that a long sojourn there 
 niioht be dan^-erous to him ; he saw that the 
 feelings of his heart might trample under foot 
 the resolutions of his judgment. But, obliged as 
 he was to remain, he now took the wisest course 
 that circumstances permitted him to pursue. 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 229 
 
 He saw Clemence de Marly as little as possible; 
 and that portion of time which courtesy com- 
 pelled him to give up to her, was only yielded 
 to her society upon those public occasions when 
 he fancied that her demeanour to others was 
 likely to counteract the effect of her fascinations 
 upon himself. On these occasions he always 
 appeared attentive, courteous, and desirous to 
 please her. Perhaps at times even, there shone 
 through his demeanour those indications of 
 deeper feelings and of a passion which might 
 have become strong and overpowering, which 
 were not likely to escape a woman's eye. But 
 his general conduct was by no means that of a 
 lover. He was never one of the train. He 
 came and went, and spoke for a few moments 
 in his usual calm and equable manner, but 
 nothing more ; and Clemence de Marly, it must 
 be confessed, was somewhat piqued. 
 
 It vras not that she sought to display the 
 Count de Morseiul to the world as one of the 
 idle train of adorers that followed her, for she 
 despised them, and esteemed him too much to 
 wnsh him amongst them ; but it was that she 
 thought her beauty, and her graces, and her 
 mind ; ay ! and the feeling and noble heart 
 which she knew to exist in her own bosom — 
 Q 3 
 
230 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 forgetting that she took pains to conceal it — 
 might all have had a greater effect upon the 
 Count than they had apparently produced. 
 
 She thought that she merited more than he 
 seemed to be inclined to give; and there was 
 something also in the little mysterious link of 
 connexion between them, which had, in some 
 degree, excited her imagination, and taught 
 her to believe that the Count would take a 
 deeper interest in her than he appeared to 
 do. There was a little disappointment, a little 
 surprise, a good deal of mortification. — Was 
 there any thing more ? We shall see ! at pre- 
 sent we have to deal with her conduct more 
 than with her feelings, and that conduct, 
 perhaps, was not such as was best calculated to 
 win the Count's regard. It is true, she paid 
 less attention to the train that followed her; 
 she treated the generality of them with almost 
 undisguised contempt. It seemed as if her 
 haughtiness towards them in general, increased ; 
 but then she was far more with the Chevalier 
 d'Evran. She was seen walking in the gardens 
 with him, with a single servant a step behind, and 
 twice the Count de Morseiul entered the saloon, 
 and found her sitting alone with him in eager 
 conversation. 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 231 
 
 He felt more and more each day that it was 
 time for him to quit the city of Poitiers, but 
 still he was detained there by circumstances 
 that he could not alter; and on the fifth day 
 after his arrival, having passed a somewhat sleep- 
 less night, and feeling his brow hot and aching, 
 he went down into the wide gardens of the house 
 to enjoy the fresh morning air in comfort. It 
 was an hour when those gardens seldom possessed 
 a tenant, but at the turn of the first walk he 
 met Clemence de Marly alone. She seemed to 
 be returning from tlie farther part of the 
 grounds, and had her eyes bent upon the earth, 
 with a thoughtful — nay, with even a melanclioly 
 look. If they had not been so near when he saw 
 her, he might, perhaps, have turned to avoid a 
 meeting v/hich he feared ; but she was within a 
 few steps, and raised her eyes instantly as she 
 heard the sound of approaching feet. The 
 colour came into her cheek as she saw him, but 
 only slightly, and she acknowledged his saluta- 
 tion by a graceful inclination of the head. 
 
 " You are an early riser. Mademoiselle de 
 Marly," said the Count, as she paused to speak 
 with him. 
 
 " I have always been so," she answered. ** I 
 love the soft breath of the morning air." 
 Q 4 
 
232 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 *' It is one of the great secrets of health and 
 beauty," rejoined the Count: But she shook 
 her head with a smile, saying, — 
 
 " Such are not my .^objects in early rising, 
 Monseiur de Morseiul. Health I scarcely value 
 as it deserves, as I never knew the want of it ; 
 and beauty I value not at all. — It is true ! what- 
 ever you may think." 
 
 " Still, beauty has its value," replied the 
 Count. " It is a grand and noble gift of God ; 
 but I acknowledge it ought to be the mint mark 
 of the gold." 
 
 " It is one of the most dangerous gifts of 
 Heaven," replied Clemence, vehemently. " It 
 is often one of the most burdensome ! It is 
 dangerous to ourselves, to our own hearts, to our 
 own eternal happiness. It is burdensome in all its 
 consequences. Too much beauty to a woman is 
 like overgrown wealth to a man : — with this sad 
 difference, that he can always do good with his 
 possession, and she can do none with hers. And 
 now Monsieur de Morseiul thinks me a hypo- 
 crite ; and, though he promised ever to be 
 straightforward with me, he will not say so." 
 
 " Nay, indeed," replied the Count, " I am 
 far from thinking that there is aught of hypo- 
 crisy in what you say, ladj^ I may think such 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 233 
 
 feelings and thoughts evanescent with you, but 
 I believe you feel them at tlie time." 
 
 Clemence shook her head with a melancholy 
 — almost a reproachful look. *• They are not 
 evanescent," she said earnestly. " They are 
 constant, steadfast ; have been for years." Even 
 while she spoke she turned to leave him; and 
 he thought, as she quickly averted her head, 
 that there was something like a tear in her 
 bright eye. 
 
 He could not resist ; and he followed her 
 rapidly, saying, '' I hope I have not offended." 
 
 *' Oh no ! " she answered, turning to him, 
 and lettinoj him see without dis^ijuise that the 
 tear was really there; "oh no ! Monsieur de 
 Morseiul ! There was nothing said that could 
 offend me. Do you not know that, like a child 
 putting its hand upon an instrument of music 
 without knowing he will produce any sound, a 
 mere casual word will often be spoken uncon- 
 sciously, which, by some unseen mechanism in 
 the breast of another, will awaken emotions 
 which we never intended to call up ? Our 
 little conversation roused the thoughts of many 
 years in a moment, but there was nothing 
 said that could in the least offend. You know 
 we vain women. Count," she added in a lighter 
 
234 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 mood, " are only offended with our lovers. It 
 is on them that we pour forth our caprices. So, 
 for Heaven's sake, take care how you become my 
 lover, for then I should certainly be offended 
 with you every five minutes." 
 
 " Would it be so terrible to you, then, to see 
 me your lover ? " demanded the Count in the 
 same tone. 
 
 " To be sure," she answered, half playfully, 
 half seriously ; " it would be a sad exchange, 
 would it not ? to give a friend for a slave. Be- 
 sides, I doubt not that you have loved a thou- 
 sand times before. But tell me. Count, do you 
 think any one can love more than once ? " 
 
 " From my own experience I cannot speak," 
 replied the Count, " for I am a very stony- 
 hearted person, but I should think that a man 
 might." 
 
 " And woman not!" she interrupted eagerly. 
 " Poor women ! You hem us in on all sides ! — 
 But after all, perhaps, you are right," she added, 
 after a moment's pause. " There is, there must 
 be a difference between the love of man and the 
 love of woman. Hers is the first fresh bright- 
 ness of the heart, which never can be known 
 again; hers is the flower which, once broken 
 off, is succeeded by no other ; hers is the in- 
 
THE HUGLENOT. 235 
 
 tense — the deep — the all engrossing, which, 
 when once come and gone, leaves the exhausted 
 heart without the power of feeling such things 
 again. With man it is different: love has not that 
 sway over him that it has o .'er a woman. It is not 
 with him the only thing, the end, the object of 
 his being. It takes possession of him but as a 
 part, and, therefore, may be known more than 
 once, perhaps. But, with woman, that fire once 
 kindled must be the funeral pile of her own 
 heart. As the ancients fabled, flowers may 
 spring up from the ashes, but as far as real love 
 is concerned, after the first true affection, the 
 heart is with the dead." 
 
 She paused, and both were silent ; for there 
 was something in the words which she spoke 
 which had a deeper effect upon Albert of Mor- 
 seiul than he had imagined any thing could 
 have produced. He struggled against himself, 
 hovrever, and then replied, " You took me up 
 too quickly, lady. I was not going to say that 
 it is impossible for w^oman to love twice. I do 
 not know, I cannot judge; but I think it very 
 possible that the ancients, to whom you have 
 just alluded, may have intended to figure love 
 mider the image of the phoenix; and I do fully 
 believe that many a woman may have fancied 
 
236 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 herself in love a dozen times before she was so 
 really." 
 
 " Fancy herself in love ! '* exclaimed Cle- 
 mence, in a tone almost indignant. " Fancy 
 herself in love, Monsieur de Morseiul ! I should 
 think it less difficult to love twice than to fancy 
 one's self in love at all, if one were not really so. 
 We may perhaps fancy qualities in a person 
 who does not truly possess them, and thus, 
 adorned by our own imagination, may love 
 him ; but still it is not that we fancy we are in 
 love, but are really in love with the creature of 
 our fancy. However, I will talk about it no 
 more. It is a thiniij that does not do to think 
 of. I wonder if ever there was a man that was 
 really worth loving." 
 
 The Count replied, but he could not get her 
 to pursue the subject any farther ; she studiously 
 rambled away to other things ; and, after speak- 
 ing of some matters of minor import, darted 
 back at once to the point at which the convers- 
 ation had begun, as if the rest had been but 
 a temporary dream, interpolated as it were be- 
 tween matters of more serious moment. The 
 Count had been endeavouring to bring her back 
 to the subject of the heart's feelings ; for though 
 he felt that it was a dangerous one — a most 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 237 
 
 dangerous one — one that might well lead to 
 words that could never be recalled, yet he 
 longed to gain some insight into that heart 
 which he could not but think was filled wdth 
 finer things than she suffered to appear. She 
 would not listen, however, nor be led, and 
 replied as if she had not in the slightest degree 
 attended to what he had been saying, — 
 
 '' No, Monsieur de Morseiul, no, it is neither 
 for health's sake nor for beauty's that I rise 
 early and seek the morning air. I will tell you 
 why it is. In those early and solitary hours, 
 and those hours alone, I can have some com- 
 munion with my own heart — I can converse 
 with the being within myself — I can hold con- 
 ference, too, with what I never meet alone at 
 other hours, — nature, and nature's God. The 
 soft air of the morning has a voice only to be 
 heard when crowds are far away. The leaves 
 of the green trees have tongues, drowned in the 
 idle gabble of a foolish multitude, but heard 
 in the calm quiet of the early morning. The 
 fields, the brooks, the birds, the insects, all have 
 their language, if we will listen to it ; but what 
 are fields, and brooks, and birds, and trees, 
 and the soft air, when I am surrounded by a 
 tribe of things as empty as the sounding brass 
 
238 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 or tinkling cymbal ? Can I think of any thing 
 more dignified than a padusoie when one baby 
 man is whispering softly in my ear, ' The violet, 
 Mademoiselle, suits better with your complexion 
 than with any other that the earth ever pro- 
 duced, which shows that complexion's exceed- 
 ing brightness ; ' and another tells me that the 
 blackness of my hair would make a raven 
 blush, or that my eyes are fit to people the 
 heaven with stars ! But it is time that I should 
 go to my task," she continued; " so adieu, 
 Monsieur de Morseiul. If you walk on straight 
 to the ramparts you will find the view beautiful, 
 and the air fresh." 
 
 Thus saying, she turned and left him, and 
 the hint not to follow was too plain to be mis- 
 understood. He w^alked on then towards the ram- 
 parts with his arms crossed upon his chest, and 
 his eyes bent upon the ground. He did not 
 soliloquise, for his nature was not one of those 
 which frequently give way to such weaknesses. 
 It was his thoughts that spoke, and spoke 
 plainly, though silently. 
 
 " She is, indeed, lovely," he thought, " and 
 she is, indeed, enchanting. If she would but 
 give her heart way she is all that I pictured to 
 myself, all that I dreamed of, though with a sad 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 239 
 
 mixture of faults from which her original nature 
 was free. But, alas ! it is evident that she 
 either does love or has loved another, and she 
 herself confesses that she cannot love twice. 
 Perhaps she has spoken thus plainly as a warn- 
 ing, and if so, how much ought I to thank her 
 for her frankness? Besides, she is of another 
 creed. 1 must dream upon this subject no 
 more. — Yet who can be the man that has won 
 that young heart, and then perhaps thought it 
 not w^orth the wearing ? Surely, surely it cannot 
 be D'Evran, and yet she evidently likes his so- 
 ciety better than that of any one. She seeks 
 him rather than otherwise. How can I tell 
 what may have passed, what may be passing 
 between them even now? Yet she is evidently 
 not at ease at heart, and he too told me but 
 the other day that it was his determination 
 never to marry. He — made for loving and 
 being beloved ! — he never marry ! — It must 
 be so ; some quarrel has taken place between 
 them, some breach which they think irre- 
 mediable. How often is it when such thinors 
 are the case that lovers will fancy that they 
 are cool, and calm, and determined, and can 
 live like friends and acquaintances, forgetting 
 
 the warmer feelini^s that have once existed be- 
 es 
 
240 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 tween them ! Yes, it must be so," he continued, 
 as he pondered over all the different circum- 
 stances ; " it must be so, and they will soon be 
 reconciled. I will crush these foolish feelings 
 in my heart; I will banish all weak remem- 
 brances; and to do so effectually, I will quit 
 this place as soon as possible, leaving Louis 
 here, if he chooses to stay." 
 
 Thus musing, with a sad heart and bitterer 
 feelings than he would even admit to himself, 
 Albert de Morseiul walked on in the direction 
 which Clemence had pointed out, and passing 
 through various long allies, planted in the taste 
 of that day, arrived at a spot where some steps 
 led up to the ramparts of the town, which com- 
 manded a beautiful view over the gently undu- 
 lating country round Poitiers, v/ith more than 
 one little river meandering through the fields 
 around. Leaning his arms on the lov/ breast- 
 work, he paused and gazed over a scene on 
 which, at any other time, he might have looked 
 with feelings of deep interest, and noted every 
 little mound and tree, marking, as he was wont, 
 each light and shadow, and following each turn 
 of the Clain or Boivre. Now, however, there 
 was nothing but a vague vision of green and 
 sunny things before his eyes, while the sight 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 241 
 
 of the spirit was fixed intensely upon the deeper 
 and darker things of his own lieart. 
 
 Alas, alas, it must be said, he felt that he loved 
 Clemence de Marly. Notwithstanding all he 
 had seen, notwithstanding all he had condemned, 
 notwithstandino; the fear that she could not make 
 him happy even if he could obtain her, the 
 belief that it would be impossible to win her, and 
 the conviction that she loved another — alas, 
 he felt, and felt bitterly, that at length, indeed, 
 he loved, and loved with the whole energy of his 
 nature. He reproached himself with weakness; 
 he accused himself of the follies that he had so 
 often condemned in others. Was it her mere 
 beauty that he loved ? he asked himself. Was 
 it the mere perfection of form and colour that, 
 in a few short years, would fleet with fleeting 
 seasons, and give place to irremediable decay ? 
 Was he, who had believed that loveliness could 
 have no effect on him, was he caught by the 
 painted glittering of a mere beautiful statue? 
 No ; he felt there was something more. He felt 
 that she had c;iven him sufficient insic^ht into 
 her original nature to show him that, though 
 spoiled by after circumstances, she had been 
 made by the hand of God that which he had 
 ahvays believed he could love, that bright 
 
 VOL. I. R 
 
9A2 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 beinof where the beautiful form, and the beau- 
 tiful heart, and the beautiful mind were all 
 attuned together in one grand and comprehen- 
 sive harmony of nature. He felt that such 
 was the case, and his sensations were only the 
 bitterer that it should be so. 
 
 He had thus paused and meditated some 
 little time full of his own thoughts and nothing 
 else, when a hand was suddenly laid upon his 
 shoulder, and, turning round, he saw his friend 
 the Chevalier. 
 
 " Why, Albert," he said, " in what melan- 
 choly guise are you here meditating? I met 
 Clemence upon the stairs just now, and she told 
 me that I should find you here, tasting the 
 morning air upon the ramparts. I expected to 
 see you with your eye roving enchanted over 
 this fine scene, looking as usual halfway be- 
 tween a mad poet and a mad painter; and lo ! 
 instead of that, here you are planted upon the 
 rampart like a dragoon officer in garrison in a 
 dull Dutch town, with your heel beating me- 
 lancholy time on the pavement, and your eyes 
 profoundly cast into the town ditch. In the 
 name of Heaven, why did you not make Clemence 
 come on to enliven 3^ou?" 
 
 he Count smiled with a somewhat bitter 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 243 
 
 smile. " It would have hardly been necessary, 
 and hardly right to try," he replied; "but you 
 miscalculate my power, D'Evran. The lady 
 left me with an intelligible hint, not only that 
 she was not about to follow me, but that I was 
 not to follow her." 
 
 " What, saucy with you, too ! " cried the 
 Chevalier laughing. " I did not think that she 
 w^ould have had determination enough for that.'* 
 
 " Nay, nay, you are mistaken, Louis," re- 
 plied the Count; " not in the least saucy, as you 
 term it, but quite mistress of herself, of course, 
 to do as she pleased." 
 
 " And yet, Albert," said the Chevalier, " and 
 yet I do believe that there is not a man in 
 France with whom she would so willingly have 
 walked through these gardens as with yourself 
 Nay, do not be foolish or blind, Albert. I 
 heard her saying to Marsillac but yesterday, 
 when he called to take his leave, that she had 
 seen at Poitiers more than she had ever seen 
 in her life before, a courtier v/ho was not a fool, 
 a soldier who was not a libertine, and a man of 
 nearly thirty w'ho had some good feelings left.*' 
 
 The Count gazed steadfastly into the Cheva- 
 lier's face for a moment, as if he would have 
 read into his very soul, and then replied, 
 u 2 
 
244 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 " Come, Louis, let us go back. If she meant 
 me, she was pleased to be complimentary, and 
 had probably quarrelled with her real lover, and 
 knew that he was in hearing." 
 
 The Chevalier gave himself a turn round 
 upon his heel, without reply, sang a bar or two 
 of a gay air, at that time fashionable in Paris, 
 and then walked back to the governor's house 
 with the Count, who, from every thing he had 
 seen and heard, but the more firmly determined 
 to hasten his steps from Poitiers as fast as 
 possible. 
 
 The hour of breakfast had not yet arrived when 
 they entered the house, and the Count turned 
 to his own apartments, seeking to remain in soli- 
 tude for a few minutes, not in order to indulge 
 in thoughts and reflections which he felt to be 
 unnerving, but to make a vigorous effort to re- 
 cover all his composure, and pass the rest of the 
 two or three days which he had to remain as if 
 nothing had given any disturbance to the usual 
 tranquil course of his feelings. In the ante-room, 
 however, he found Maitre Jerome, sitting watch- 
 m(f the door, like a cat before the hole of a 
 mouse; and the moment he entered Jerome 
 sprang up, saying, — 
 
 " Oh, Monseigneur, I have something to 
 
THE HUGUEXOi'. 245 
 
 say to you, wbicli may not be amiss to hear 
 quickly. I have discovered tb.e exact nature of 
 the commission of jNIonsieur de St. Helie, which 
 you wanted to know." 
 
 The Count beckoned him into the inner cham- 
 ber, and demanded, looking at him sternly, 
 " Truth or falsehood, Riquet ? This is no joking 
 matter ! " 
 
 " Truth, upon my honour, sir," replied the 
 man ; " 1 would deceive you on no account 
 whatsoever ; and now, pray, sir, ask no questions^ 
 but let me tell my tale. It is truth, for once in 
 my life, depend upon it. I can tell truth upon 
 an occasion, sir, when it suits me." 
 
 '• But how am I to be sure of the accuracy 
 of the information, if I ask you no questions, 
 Riquet?" said the Count. 
 
 " You may be quite sure of it, sir," replied 
 the man, though I must not tell you how I came 
 at my tale. Suppose, I say, only suppose that 
 I had heard Monsieur de St. Helie repeating it 
 word for word to Monsieur Pelisson, and the 
 Cure de Guadrieul had confirmed it. I say, 
 suppose it were so, and be sure that my authority 
 is quite as good." 
 
 " Well, well," said his master, " go on." 
 
 " Well, then, sir," continued the servant, "of 
 R 3 
 
246 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 course, as a good Catholic, I hope that you and 
 all the other Huguenots of France may be 
 thoroughly roasted in good time ; but, never- 
 theless, as you happen to be my master in this 
 world, I am in duty bound to tell you what I 
 heard. Monsieur de St. Helie, then, and 
 Monsieur Pelisson are commanded to demand 
 of the states of the province, effectual measures 
 to be taken for the purpose of bringing into the 
 bosom of the church, without delay, all the 
 Huguenots within their jurisdiction. In ex- 
 pressing this demand there are a great many soft 
 words used, and much talk of gentleness and 
 persuasion ; but Huguenots' children are to be 
 brought over by all means ; they are to be re- 
 ceived to renounce their errors at seven years 
 old. No more Huguenots are to be permitted 
 to keep schools. They are to be excluded from 
 all public offices of any kind or character what- 
 soever. They are no longer to be allowed to 
 
 call their religion the reformed religion " 
 
 " Enough, enough," said the Count, stopping 
 him, " and more than enough. Is this informa- 
 
 tion sure i 
 
 ?'» 
 
 " Most sure, sir," replied the man, with a 
 solemnity that admitted no doubt of his since- 
 rity, " and the commission ended with the words. 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 247 
 
 that these means were to be taken in prepara- 
 tion for those ulterior steps which the King was 
 determined to employ." 
 
 The Count made no reply, but paced the 
 room for two or three minutes in considerable 
 agitation. " I wanted something to rouse me," 
 he said, at length, "and I have it now, indeed ! 
 Quick, Riquet, call Claude, and Beyhours, and 
 Martin ; tell them to saddle their horses, for I 
 want them to carry some notes. When you 
 have done that, come hither yourself, and say 
 not a word of this affair to any one." 
 
 When the man returned, he found three notes 
 written and addressed to different protestant 
 noblemen in the neighbourhood of Poitiers, 
 which his lord directed him to give to the ser- 
 vants named, to carry them to their several des- 
 tinations; and then added, " Now, Riquet, I 
 have a commission for you yourself; I will not 
 give you a note, as that is useless. You would 
 know the contents of it before you got to the end 
 of your journey: of that I am well aware." 
 
 " Certainly, sir," replied the man, with his 
 usual effrontery ; " I always make a point of 
 that, for then I can tell the purport on my ar- 
 rival if I lose the note by the way." 
 
 " I know it," replied the Count, " but I 
 R 4 
 
248 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 believe you, notwitlistandiiig, to be faitbful and 
 attached to me, and that you can be silent when 
 it is ]iecessaiy." 
 
 " As the grave, sir," replied tlie man. 
 
 " Well, then," continued bis master, " you 
 know the chateau of the Maille, at about tv.o 
 ler:gues' distance. Go thither — ask to speak to 
 Monsieur de Corvoie — tell him that I will be with 
 hiin to-morrow about mid-day — that I have 
 matters of the deepest importance to communi- 
 cate to him — and that I have asked three other 
 gentlemen of our own persuasion to meet me at 
 bis house to-morrow. Say notliing more and 
 nothing less." 
 
 " Sir, I will cut it on all sides exactly as you 
 have commanded," replied the man, and will 
 bear you his message back immediately, if there 
 should be any." 
 
 These arrangements being made, the Count 
 descended to the breakfast table, where he found 
 the Chevalier seated by the side of Clemence 
 de Marly. Tiie Count had resolved that during 
 his stay he would notice tlie conduct of Clemence 
 as little as possible ; that he would endeavour 
 to look upon her as a being that could never 
 be his ; but, nevertheless, he could not now help 
 noticiniT that thouoh she and the Chevalier 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 249 
 
 miiT^ht not converse much toa^etlier, there was 
 from time to time a few words passed between 
 them in a low voice, evidently referring to things 
 apart from the general conversation that was 
 going on. He steeled his heart, though with 
 agony to himself, and pleading the necessity of 
 visiting some friends in the neighbourhood, 
 mounted liis horse immediately after breakfast, 
 and was absent from Poitiers the greater part 
 of the dav. 
 
250 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE MEETING AND THE CHASE. 
 
 On the following morning, at breakfast, some 
 sports and diversions were proposed ; and the 
 governor, who wished to afford amusement to all 
 parties and to keep them in especial good hmnour 
 till after the me- ?ting of the states, proposed to 
 set out almost immediately to force a stag in the 
 neighbouring woods. There were several young 
 noblemen present, swelling the train of la belle 
 Clemence, but she had shown herself somewhat 
 grave, and less lively than usual ; and after the 
 proposal had been made and agreed to by al- 
 most all, she remarked the silence of the Count 
 de Morseiul, saying, that she feared, from the 
 profound silence that he kept, they were again 
 to be deprived of the pleasure of Monsieur de 
 Morseiul's society, as they had been on their 
 ride of the day before. She spoke in rather a 
 low voice, and, perhaps one might say, timidly, 
 for her manner w^as very different from that 
 which she usually assumed. 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 25 1 
 
 " I fear, fair lady," replied the Count, who 
 felt that under any other circumstances her 
 speech would have been a sore temptation, " I 
 fear that I have engaged myself to visit a friend 
 in the neighbourhood at noon to-day." 
 
 " Oh, we will take no excuse," cried the Due 
 de Rouvre; "indeed, Count, you must send a 
 messenger to tell your friend you cannot come. 
 You who are famed for your skill in forest 
 sports must positively be with us." 
 
 The Count, however, remained firm, saying, 
 that he had appointed to meet his friend on 
 business of importance to them both ; and the 
 Due de Rouvre was of course silent. The 
 young De Herieourt, who had been absent for a 
 day or two, and had only lately returned, gazed 
 at Clemenee with a sort of ironical smile, as he 
 saw upon her countenance a look of mortifi- 
 cation which she could not or would not re- 
 strain ; but the Count saw it too, and was struck 
 with it ; for, though skilful by habit in reading 
 the hearts of those w^ith whom he was brought 
 into contact, he could not perfectly satisfy him- 
 self with regard to the nature of that look and 
 the feelings from which it sprung. He felt, too, 
 that somediing more than a dry refusal was, per- 
 haps, owing in mere courtesy to Clemenee for the 
 
'252 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 wish slie had expressed for liis society, and he 
 added, — 
 
 " I do assure you, Mademoiselle de Marly, 
 that nothing could have been so great a tempt- 
 ation to me as the thought of accompanying 
 you, and our gay friends here, to wake the 
 woods with the sounds of horns and dogs, and 
 I grieve very much that this appointment should 
 have been made so unfortunately." 
 
 " Indeed," she exclaimed, brightening up, 
 " if such be your feelings I will coax ma reine, 
 as 1 always call our good Duchess, to coax the 
 governor, who never refuses any thing to her, 
 though he refuses plenty of things to me, to 
 delay tlie party for an hour. Then we shall be 
 some time getting to the woodside, you know ; 
 sometime making all our preparations; and you 
 shall come and join us whenever you have done. 
 We will make noise enough to let you know 
 where we are." 
 
 Of course there was now no refusing; the 
 Count promised to come if the important business 
 in which he was about to be engaged was over 
 in time, and Clemence repaid him with a smile, 
 such as she but rarely gave to any. It was 
 now well nigh time for him to depart ; and after 
 shutting himself up for a few minutes alone, in 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 253 
 
 order to think over the circumstances about to 
 be discussed, he set out, with some servants, and 
 rode rapidly to the chateau of the Maille. He 
 found several horses in the court yard, and judged 
 rightly, from that sight, that the others had ar- 
 rived before him. He found them all assembled 
 in the large hall, and each greeted him gladly and 
 kindly, looking with some eagerness for what he 
 had to communicate. But the master of the 
 chateau asked him to pause for a moment, 
 adding, — 
 
 " I have a friend here who arrived last night, 
 and whom you will all be glad to see. He will 
 join us in a moment, as he is but writing a short 
 despatch in another room." 
 
 " Who is he ? " demanded the Count ; " is it 
 Monsieur de I'Estang?" 
 
 " Oh no," replied the other. " He is a man 
 of arms instead of a man of peace." But almost 
 as he spoke the door opened, and the famous 
 I\Iarechal de Schomberg entered the room. 
 
 " I am happy to see you all, gentlemen," he 
 said ; " Monsieur de Morseiul, my good friend," 
 he continued, shaking him warmly by the hand, 
 " I am delighted to meet you. I have not seen 
 you since we vrere fellow-soldiers together in 
 very troublous times." 
 
254 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 " I hope, Marshal," replied the Count, " that 
 at the present we may be fellow-pacificators in- 
 stead of fellow-soldiers. We are all Protestants, 
 gentlemen, and as what 1 have lately learned 
 affects us all, I thought it much the best plan, 
 before I took any steps in consequence, in my 
 own neighbourhood, to consult with you, and 
 see whether we could not draw up such a re- 
 monstrance and plain statement of our case to 
 the King, as to induce him to oppose the evil 
 intentions of his ministers, and once more gua^ 
 ran tee to us the full and entire enjoyment of 
 those rights in which he promised us security 
 on his accession to the throne, but which have 
 been sadly encroached upon and curtailed with- 
 in the last ten years." 
 
 " Tiiey have, indeed," said the Count de 
 Champclair; " but I trust, Monsieur de Mor- 
 seiul, you have nothing to tell us which may 
 lead us to believe that greater encroachments 
 still are intended." 
 
 Marshal Schomberg shook his head with a 
 melancholy smile ; but he did not interrupt the 
 Count de Morseiul, who proceeded to relate 
 what he knew of the mission of Pelisson and 
 St. Helie, and the further information which he 
 had gained in regard to their commission on 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 25 
 
 the preceding day. The first burst of anger 
 and indignation was greater than he expected, 
 and nothing was talked of for a few minutes 
 but active resistance to the powers of the crown, 
 of reviving the days of the League or those of 
 Louis XIII.j and defending their rights and pri- 
 vileges to the last. Marshal Schomberg, how- 
 ever eminently distinguished for his attachment 
 to his religion, maintained a profound silence 
 during the whole of the first ebullitions ; and at 
 length Monsieur de Champclair remarked, 
 " The Marshal does not seem to think well of 
 our purposes. What would he have us do, thus 
 brought to bay?" 
 
 " My good friends," replied Schomberg, with 
 his slight foreign accent, *' I think only that you 
 do not altogether consider how times have 
 changed since the days of Louis XIII. Even 
 then the reformed church of France was not 
 successful in resisting the King, and now re- 
 sistance, unless men were driven to it by despair, 
 would be madness. Forced as I am to be much 
 about the court, I have seen and knov/n these 
 matters in their progress more intimately than 
 any of you, and can but believe that our sole 
 hope will rest in showing the King the utmost 
 
256 TKE HUGUENOT. 
 
 SLibmissioHj while at the same time we represent 
 to him the grievances that we suffer." 
 
 " But does he not know those grievances al- 
 ready ?" exclaimed one of the other gentlemen ; 
 " are the}^ not his ov/n act and deed ?" 
 
 " They are, it is true," replied Schomberg, 
 mildly, " but he does not know one half of the 
 consequences which his own acts produce. Let 
 me remind you that it is the people who sur- 
 round the King that urge him to these acts, 
 and it is consequently their greatest interest to 
 prevent him from knowing the evil conse- 
 quences thereof. Not one half of the severities 
 that are exercised in the provinces — indeed I 
 may say, no severities at all — are exercised to- 
 wards the Protestants in the immediate nei2:h- 
 bourhood of Paris, Versailles, or Fontainbleaii. 
 They take especial care that the eyes of majesty, 
 and the ear of authority, shall not be opened to 
 the cries, groans, or sufferings of an injured 
 people. Louis the Great is utterly ignorant 
 that the Protestants have suffered, or are likely to 
 suffer, under any of his acts. The King has been 
 always, more or less, a bigot, and his mother 
 was the same : Colbert is dead, who stood be- 
 tween us and our enemies. His son is a mere 
 boy, unable if not unwilling to defend us. Tli 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 257 
 
 fury, Louvois, and his old Jesuitical father, are, in 
 fact, the only ministers that remain, and they 
 have been onr enemies from the beginning. 
 But they have now stronger motives to persecute 
 us. The King must be ruled by some passion ; 
 he is tired of the domination of Louvois, and 
 that minister seeks now for some new hold upon 
 his master. He supported his tottering power 
 for many years by the influence of Madame de 
 Montespan. Madame de Montespan has fallen ; 
 and a new reign has commenced under a woman, 
 who is the enemy of that great bad man ; but 
 she also is a bigot, and the minister clearly sees 
 that if he would remain a day in power he must 
 link Madame Scarron to himself in some gene- 
 ral plan which will identify their interests to- 
 gether. She sees, and he sees, that whatever 
 be that plan it must comprise something which 
 affords occupation to the bigoted zeal of the 
 King. The Jesuits see that too, and are very 
 willing to furnish such occupation; but the King, 
 who thinks himself a new St. George, is tired of 
 persecuting Jansenism. That dragon is too small 
 and too tenacious of life to afford a subject of in- 
 terest to the King any longer; when he thinks it 
 is quite dead, it revives again, and crawls feebly 
 here and there, so that the saint is weary of 
 VOL. I. s 
 
258 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 killing a creature that seems immortal. Under 
 these circumstances they have turned his eyes 
 and thoughts towards the Protestants; and what 
 have they proposed to him which might not 
 seduce a glory-loving monarch like himself? 
 They have promised him that he shall effect 
 what none of his ancestors could ever accom- 
 plish, by completely triumphing over subjects 
 who have shown that they can resist powerfully 
 when oppressed. They have promised him 
 this glory as an absolute monarch. They have 
 promised him almost apostolic glory in con- 
 verting people whom he believes to be heretics. 
 They have promised him the establishment of 
 one, and one only religion in France; and they 
 have promised him that, by so doing, he will in- 
 flict a bitter wound on those Protestant princes 
 with whom he has been so long contending. 
 Such are the motives by which they lead on the 
 mind of Louis to severe acts against us ; but there 
 is yet one other motive; and to that I will parti- 
 cularly call your attention, as it ought, I think, 
 greatly to affect our conduct. They have misre- 
 presented the followers of the reformed religion 
 in France as a turbulent, rebellious, obstinate 
 race of men, who adhere to their own creed more 
 out of opposition to the sovereign than from any 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 259 
 
 real attachment to the religion of their fore- 
 fathers. By long and artful reasonings they 
 have persuaded the King that such is the case. 
 He himself told me long ago, that individually 
 there are a great many good men, and brave 
 men, and loyal men amongst us ; but that as a 
 body we are the most stiff-necked and rebellious 
 race he ever read of in history." 
 
 "Have we not been driven to rebellion?" 
 demanded Monsieur de Champclair, " have we 
 not been driven to resistance? Have we ever 
 taken arms but in our ow^n defence?" 
 
 " True," replied Schomberg, " quite true. 
 But kings vmfortunately see through the eyes of 
 others. The causes of our resistance are hidden 
 from him scrupulously. The resistance itself 
 is urged upon him vehemently." 
 
 " Then it is absolutely necessary," said the 
 Count de Morseiul, " that he should be made 
 clearly and distinctly to know how much we 
 have been aggrieved, how peaceably and loyally 
 we are really disposed, and how little but the 
 bitterest fruits can ever be reaped from the 
 seeds that are now sowing." 
 
 " Precisely," replied Schomberg. " That is 
 precisely what I should propose to do. Let us 
 present a humble remonstrance to the King, 
 s 2 
 
260 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 making a true statement of our case. Let us 
 make him aware of the evils that have accrued, 
 of the evils that still must accrue from per- 
 secution ; but in the language of the deepest 
 loyalty and most submissive obedience. Let 
 us open his eyes, in fact, to the real state of 
 the case. This is our only hope, for in resist- 
 ance I fear there is none. The Protestant 
 people are apathetic, they are not united — 
 and they are not sufficiently numerous, even if 
 they were united, to contend successfully with 
 the forces of a great empire in a time of ex- 
 teri.al peace." 
 
 " I do not know that," exclaimed Monsieur de 
 Champclair. But he had the great majority of 
 the persons who were then present against him, 
 and, in a desultory conversation that followed, 
 those who had most vehemently advocated re- 
 sistance but a few minutes before, who had been 
 all fire and fury, and talked loudly of sacrificing 
 their lives a thousand times rather than sacri- 
 ficing their religion, viewed the matter in a very 
 different light now when the first eagerness was 
 over. One declared that not an able-bodied man 
 in forty would take the field in defence of his re- 
 ligion ; another said, that they had surely had 
 warning enough at La Rochelle; another spoke, 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 261 
 
 with a shudder, of Alaix. In short, Albert de 
 Morseinl had an epitome in that small meeting 
 of the doubts, fears, and hesitations ; the apathy, 
 the weakness, the renitency which would affect 
 the great body of Protestants, if called upon sud- 
 denly to act together. He was forced, then, to 
 content himself with pressing strongly upon the 
 attention of all present the necessity of adopting 
 instantly the suggestion of Marshal Schomberg, 
 and of drawing up a representation to the King, 
 to be signed as rapidly as possible by the chief 
 Protestants throughout the kingdom, and trans- 
 mitted to Schomberg, who was even then on his 
 way towards Paris. 
 
 Vain discussions next ensued in regard to 
 the tone of the remonstrance, and the terms 
 that were to be employed; and those who 
 were inclined to be more bold in words than 
 in deeds, proposed such expressions as would 
 have entirely obviated the result sought to be 
 obtained, giving the petition the character of a 
 threatening and mutinous manifesto. Though 
 this effect was self-evident, yet the terms had 
 nearly been adopted by the majority of those 
 present, and most likely would have been so, 
 had not a fortunate suggestion struck the mind 
 of Albert of Morseiul. 
 
 s 3 
 
262 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 " My good friends," he said, " there is one 
 thino^ which we have forsrotten to consider. We 
 are all of us soldiers and country gentlemen , 
 and many of us have, perhaps, a certain tincture 
 of belles lettres ; but a petition from the whole 
 body of Protestants should be drawn up by some 
 person eminent alike for learning, wisdom, and 
 piety, whose very name may be a recommenda- 
 tion to that which he produces. What say you, 
 then, to request Monsieur Claude de I'Estang 
 to draw up the petition for our whole body. I 
 intend to leave Poitiers to-morrow, and will 
 communicate your desire to him. The paper 
 shall be sent to you all as soon as it is drawn up, 
 and nothing will remain but to place our hands 
 to it, and lay it before the King." 
 
 The proposal was received with jo}^ by all ; for 
 even those who were pressing their own plans 
 obstinately were at heart glad to be delivered 
 from the responsibility; and this having been 
 decided, the meeting broke up. 
 
 The Count de Morseiul lingered for a few 
 minutes after the rest were gone to speak with 
 Marshal Schomberg, who asked, " So you 
 are not going to wait for the opening of the 
 states?" 
 
 " I see no use of so doing," replied the 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 263 
 
 Count; "now that I know the measures which 
 the King's commission dictates, I have nothing 
 farther to detain me. But tell me, Marshal, 
 do you really believe that Louvois and his 
 abettors will urge the King seriously to such 
 steps ?" 
 
 " To a thousand others," replied Schomberg; 
 " to a thousand harsher, and a thousand more 
 dangerous measures. I can tell you that it is 
 already determined to prohibit for the future the 
 marriages of Catholics and Protestants. That, 
 indeed, were no great evil, and I think rather 
 favourable to us, than not ; but it is only one 
 out of many encroachments on the liberty of 
 conscience, and, depend upon it, our sole hope 
 is in opening the King's eyes to our real charac- 
 ter as a body, and to the awful evils likely to 
 ensue from oppressing us." 
 
 " But should we be unable so to do," de- 
 manded the Count, " what remains for us then, 
 my noble friend ? Must we calmly submit to 
 increasing persecution ? must we renounce our 
 faith? must we resist and die?" 
 
 " If by our death," replied Schomberg firmly, 
 
 but sadly, " we could seal for those who come 
 
 after us, even with our hearts' blood, a covenant 
 
 of safety — if by our fall in defence of our re- 
 
 S 4 
 
264 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 ligion we could cement, as with the blood of 
 martyrs, the edifice of the reformed church — 
 if there were even a hope that our destruction 
 could purchase immunity to our brethren or our 
 children, I should say that there is but one 
 course before us. But, alas ! my good young 
 friend, do you not know, as well as I do, that 
 resistance is hopeless in itself, and must be 
 ruinous in its consequences; that it must bring 
 torture, persecution, misery, upon the women, 
 the children, the helpless; that it must crush 
 out the last spark of toleration that is likely to 
 be left ; and that the ultimate ruin of our church 
 in France will but be hastened thereby? No one 
 deserving the title of man, gentleman, or Chris- 
 tian, will abandon his religion under persecu- 
 tion ; but there is another course to be taken, 
 and it I shall take, if these acts against us be 
 not stayed. I will quit the land — I will make 
 myself a home elsewhere. My faith shall be 
 my country, as my sword has been my inherit- 
 ance ! Would you take my advice, my dear 
 Count, you would follow my example, and 
 forming your determination before hand, be 
 prepared to act when necessary." 
 
 The Count shook his head. " I thank you," 
 he said, " I thank you, and will give what you 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 265 
 
 propose the fullest consideration ; but it is 
 a resolution that cannot be taken at once — at 
 least by such as feel as I do. Oh ! my good 
 friend, remember how many ties I have to break 
 asunder before I can act as you propose. There 
 are all the sweet memories of youth, the cling- 
 ing household dreams of infancy, the sunny 
 home of my first days, when life's pilgrimage 
 took its commencement in a garden of flowers. 
 I must quit all these, — every dear thing to which 
 the remembrance of my brightest days is at- 
 tached — and spend the autumn and the winter 
 of my latter life in scenes where there is not 
 even a memory of its spring. I must quit all 
 these, Schomberg. I must quit more. I must 
 quit the faithful people that have surrounded 
 me from my boyhood — who have grown up 
 with me like brothers — who have watched over 
 me like fathers — who have loved me with that 
 hereditary leve that none but lord and vassal 
 can feel towards each other — who would lay 
 down their lives to serve me, and who look to 
 me for direction, protection, and support. I 
 must quit them, I must leave them a prey to 
 those who would tear and destroy them. I must 
 leave, too, the grave of my father, the tombs of 
 my ancestors, round which the associations of 
 
266 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 the past have wreathed a chain of glorious me- 
 mories that should bind me not to abandon them. 
 I, too, should have my grave there, Schomberg ; 
 I, too, should take my place amongst the many 
 who have served their country, and left a name 
 without a stain. When I have sought the battle 
 field, have I not thought of them, and burned 
 to accomplish deeds like theirs? When I have 
 been tempted to do any thing that is wrong, 
 have I not thought upon their pure renown, 
 and cast the temptation from me like a slimy 
 worm ? And should I leave those tombs now ? 
 Were it not better to do as they would have 
 done, to hang out my banner from the walls 
 against oppression, and when the sword which 
 they have transmitted to me can defend my 
 right no longer, perish on the spot which is 
 hallowed by the possession of their ashes?" 
 
 " No, my friend, no," replied Schomberg, 
 " it were not better, for neither could you so 
 best do honour to their name, neither would 
 your death and sacrifice avail aught to the great 
 cause of religious liberty. But there is more to 
 be considered, Albert of Morseiul ; you might 
 not gain the fate you sought for. The perverse 
 bullet and the unwilling steel often, too often, 
 will not do their fatal mission upon him that 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 267 
 
 courts them. How often do we see that the 
 timid, the cowardly, or the man who has a thou- 
 sand sweet inducements to seek long life, meets 
 death in the first field he enters, while he who 
 in despair or rage walks up to the flashing can- 
 non's mouth escapes as by a miracle ? Think, 
 Morseiul, if such were to be your case, what 
 w^ould be the result: first to linger in imprison- 
 ment, next to see the exterminating sword of 
 persecution busy amongst those that you had 
 led on into revolt, to know that their hearths 
 were made desolate, their children orphans, 
 their patrimony given to others, their wives and 
 daughters delivered to the brutal insolence of 
 victorious soldiers ; and then, knowing all this, 
 to end your owai days as a common criminal, 
 stretched on a scaffold on the torturing wheel, 
 amidst the shouts and derisions of superstitious 
 bigots, with the fraudulent voice of monkish 
 hypocrisy pouring into your dying ear insults to 
 your religion and to your God. Think of all 
 this ! and think also, that, at that last moment, 
 you would know that you yourself had brought 
 it all to pass, without the chance of effecting one 
 single benefit to yourself or others." 
 
 The Count put his hand before his eyes, but 
 made no reply; and then, wringing Marshal 
 
268 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 Schomberg's hand, he mounted his liorse and 
 rode slowly away. 
 
 For a considerable distance he went on to- 
 wards Poitiers at the same slow pace, filled with 
 dark and gloomy thoughts, and with nothing 
 but despair on every side. He felt that the 
 words of Marshal Schomberg were true to their 
 fullest extent, and a sort of presage of the com- 
 ing events seemed to gather slowly upon his 
 heart, like dark clouds upon the verge of the 
 sky. His only hope reduced itself to the same 
 narrow bounds which had long contained those 
 of Schomberg; the result, namely, of the pro- 
 posed petition to the King. 
 
 But there were one or two words which 
 Schomberg had dropped accidentally, and which 
 it would seem, from what we have told before, 
 ought not to have produced such painful and 
 bitter feelings in the breast of Albert of Mor- 
 seiul as they did produce. They were those 
 words which referred to the prohibition about 
 to be decreed against the marriages of Pro- 
 testants and Catholics. What was it to him, he 
 asked himself, whether Catholics and Protest- 
 ants might or might not marry ? Was not his 
 determination taken with regard to the only 
 person whom he could have ever loved? and 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 269 
 
 did it matter that another barrier was placed 
 between them, when there were barriers im- 
 passable before. But still he felt the an- 
 nouncement deeply and painfully ; reason had 
 no power to check and overcome those sen- 
 sations; and oppressed and overloaded as his 
 mind then was, it wandered vaguely from misery 
 to misery, and seemed to take a pleasure in 
 calling up every thing that could increase its 
 own pain and anguish. 
 
 When he had thus ridden along for somewhat 
 more than two miles, he suddenly heard a horn 
 winded lowly in the distance, and, as he fancied, 
 the cry of dogs. It called to his mind his pro- 
 mise to Clemence de Marly. He felt that his 
 frame of mind was in strange contrast with a 
 gay hunting scene. Yet he had promised to go 
 as soon as ever he was free, and he was not a 
 man to break his promise, even when it was a 
 light one. He turned his horse's head, then, 
 in the direction of the spot from which the sound 
 seemed to proceed, still going on slowly and 
 gloomily. 
 
 A moment after he heard the sounds again. 
 The memory of happy days, and of his old forest 
 sports, came upon him, and he made a strong 
 effort against the darker spirit in his bosom. 
 
270 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 " I will drive these gloomy thoughts from 
 me," he said, "if it be but for an hour; I will 
 yet know one bright moment more. For this day 
 I will be a boy again, and to-morrow I will cast 
 all behind me, and plunge into the stream of 
 care and strife ! '* 
 
 As he thus thought he touched his horse with 
 the spur; the gallant beast bounded off like 
 lightning ; the cry of the hounds, the sound of 
 the horns came nearer and nearer ; and in a few 
 moments more the Count came suddenly upon 
 a relay of horses and dogs, established upon the 
 side of a hill, as was then customary, for the 
 purpose of giving fresh vigour to the chase when 
 it had been abated by weariness. 
 
 " Is the deer expected to pass here ? " de- 
 manded the Count, speaking to one of the 
 veneurs, and judging instantly, by his own 
 practised eye, that it would take another di- 
 rection. 
 
 " The young Marquis Hericourt thought 
 so," replied the man, " but he knows nothing 
 about it." 
 
 At that moment the gallant stag itself was 
 seen, at the distance of about half a mile, bound- 
 ing along in the upland towards a point directly 
 opposite ; and the Count knowing that he must 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 271 
 
 come upon the hunt at the turn of the valley, 
 spurred on at all speed, followed by his at- 
 tendants. In a few minutes more a few of the 
 huntsmen were seen ; and, in another, Cle- 
 mence de Marly was before his eyes. She 
 was glowing with exercise and eagerness, her 
 eyes bright as stars, her clustering hair floating 
 back from her face, her whole aspect like that 
 which she bore, when first he saw her in all the 
 brightness of her youth and beauty. The Che- 
 valier was seen at a distance amusing himself 
 by teasing, almost into madness, a fiery horse, 
 that was eaoer to bound forward before all the 
 rest ; the train of suitors, and of flatterers, that 
 generally followed her, was scattered about the 
 field ; and, in a moment — with his hat off*, his 
 dark hair curling round his brow, his features 
 lighted up with a smile which was strangely 
 mingled with the strong lines of deep emo- 
 tions just passed, like the sun scattering the 
 remnants of a thunder cloud; with his chest 
 thrown forward, his head bending to a grace- 
 ful salute, and his person erect as a column — 
 Albert of Morseiul was by the side of Clemence 
 de Marly and galloping on with her, seeming 
 but of one piece with the noble animal that bore 
 him. 
 
272 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 The eyes of almost all those that followed, 
 or were around, were turned to those two; 
 and certainly almost every thing else in the 
 gay and splendid scene through which they 
 moved seemed to go out extinguished by the 
 comparison. In the whole air, and aspect, and 
 figure of each, there was that clear, concen- 
 trated expression of grace, dignity, and power, 
 that seems almost immortal ; so that the Duke de 
 Rouvre and his train, the gay nobles, the dogs, 
 the huntsmen, and the whole array, were for an 
 instant forgotten. Men forgot even themselves 
 for a time to wonder and admire. 
 
 Unconscious that such was the case, Albert 
 de Morseiul and Clemence de Marly rode on ; 
 and he — with his fate, as he conceived, sealed, 
 and his determination taken — cast off all cold 
 and chilling restraint, and appeared what he 
 really was — nay, more, appeared what he was 
 when eager, animated, and with all the fine qua- 
 lities of his heart and mind welling over in a mo- 
 ment of excitement. All the tales that she had 
 heard of him as he appeared in the battle field, 
 or in the moment of difficulty and danger, were 
 now realised to the mind of Clemence de 
 Marly, and while she wondered and enjoyed, she 
 felt that for the first time in her life, she had met 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 273 
 
 with one to whom her own high heart and spirit 
 must yield. Her eyes sunk beneath the eagle 
 gaze of his; her hand held the rein more timidly; 
 new feelings came upon her, doubts of her own 
 sufficienc}^, of her own courage, of her own 
 strength, of her own beauty, of her own worthi- 
 ness: she felt that she had admired and esteemed 
 Albert of Morseiul before, but she felt that there 
 was something more strange, more potent in 
 her bosom now. 
 
 We must pause on no other scene of that 
 huntinof. Throuo-hout the whole of that after- 
 noon the Count gave way to the same spirit. 
 Whether alone with Clemence, or surrounded 
 by others, the high and powerful mind broke 
 forth with fearless energy. A bright and poeti- 
 cal imauination : a clear and cultivated under- 
 standing ; a decision of character and of tone, 
 founded on the consciousness of rectitude and of 
 great powers ; a wit as graceful as it was keen, 
 aided by the advantages of striking beauty, and 
 a deep-toned voice of striking melody, left every 
 one so far behind, so out of all comparison, 
 that even the vainest there felt it themselves, 
 and felt it with mortification and anger. The 
 hunting was over, and by chance or by design 
 
 VOL. I. T 
 
274 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 Albert of Morseiul was placed next to Clemence 
 de Marly at supper. The Duke de Rouvre 
 had noticed the brightening change which had 
 come over his young friend, and attributing it 
 to a wrong cause, he said good-humouredly, — 
 
 " Monsieur de Morseiul, happy am I to see you 
 shake off your sadness. You are so much more 
 cheerful, that I doubt not you have heard good 
 news to-day." 
 
 This was spoken at some distance across the 
 table, and every one heard it ; but the young 
 Count replied calmly, " Alas! no, my Lord; I 
 was determined to have one more day of hap- 
 piness, and therefore cast away every other 
 thought but the pleasure of the society by 
 which I was surrounded. I gave way to that 
 pleasure altogether this day, because I am sorry 
 to say, I must quit your hospitable roof to- 
 morrow, in order to return to Morseiul, fearing 
 that I shall not be able to come to Poitiers 
 again, while I remain in this part of France." 
 
 Clemence de Marly turned very pale, but 
 then again the blood ruslied powerfully over her 
 face. But the Duke de Rouvre, by replying 
 immediately, called attention away from her. 
 
 " Nay, nay, Monsieur le Comte," he said, 
 " you promised me to stay for several days. 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 275 
 
 longer, and I cannot part with an old friend, 
 and the son of an old friend, so soon." 
 
 " I said, my Lord, that I would stay if it 
 were possible," replied the Count. " But I can 
 assure you that it is not possible ; various im- 
 portant causes of the greatest consequence not 
 only to me, but to the state, call me imperatively 
 away, when, indeed, there are but too many 
 inducements to stay here." 
 
 " I know one of the causes," said the Duke ; 
 " I hear you have taken measures for suppress- 
 ing that daring band of plunderers — night 
 hawks, as they call themselves, who have for some 
 time hung about that part of the country, and 
 who got possession of poor Monsieur Pelisson 
 and Monsieur St. Helie, as they were telling 
 me the other day; but you might trust that to 
 your seneschals. Count." 
 
 " Indeed I cannot, my Lord Duke," replied 
 the Count; *' that affair has more branches than 
 you know of — or, perhaps I should say, more 
 roots to be eradicated. Besides there are many 
 other things." 
 
 " Well, well," said the Duke, " if it must be 
 
 so, it must. However, as soon as the states have 
 
 ceased to hold their meetings, I shall come for a 
 
 little repose to Ruffigny, and then, if you have 
 
 T :1 
 
276 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 not been fully successful, I will do my best to 
 help you; but we are not going to lose our 
 friend Louis here too. Chevalier, do you go 
 back with your friend ? " 
 
 " Not to hunt robbers," replied the Chevalier 
 with a smile ; " I would almost as soon hunt 
 rats with the Dauphin. Besides, he has never 
 asked me ; this is the first intelligence I had of 
 his intention." 
 
 " I only formed it this morning," replied the 
 Count. " But you have promised me a whole 
 month, Louis, and you shall give it me when 
 you find it most pleasant to yourself." 
 
 " Well, I shall linger on here for a few days," 
 replied the Chevalier, " if the governor will 
 feed and lodge me ; and then, when I have seen 
 all the bright things that are done by the states, 
 I will come and join you at Morseiul." 
 
 Thus ended the discussion which followed 
 the young Count's announcement. No fur- 
 ther conversation took place between him and 
 Clemence, who devoted her whole attention, 
 during the rest of the evening, either to the 
 Chevalier, the Due de Melcourt, or the young 
 Marquis de Hericourt. The hour for Albert 
 de Morseiul's departure was announced as im- 
 mediately after breakfast on the following day ; 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 277 
 
 but Clemence de Marly did not appear that 
 morning at the table, for the first time since 
 his arrival at Poitiers. When the hour was 
 come, and his horses were prepared, he took 
 leave of the rest of the party, and with many 
 painful emotions at his heart quitted the saloon, 
 the Duke and the Chevalier, with one or two 
 others, accompanying him to the top of the 
 stairs. At that moment, however, as he was 
 about to descend, Clemence appeared as if 
 going into the saloon. She was somewhat paler 
 than usual ; but her manner was the same as 
 ever. 
 
 " So, Monsieur de Morseiul," she said, " you 
 are going ! I wish you a happy journey ;" and 
 thus treating him like a mere common acquaint- 
 ance, she bowed her head and entered the 
 saloon. 
 
 T 3 
 
278 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE DISCOVERY. 
 
 Two days after the departure of the Count de 
 Morseiul, the states of the province were opened 
 in form ; but neither with the states nor with 
 their proceedings shall we have any thing to do, 
 and will merely notice an event which occurred 
 on the eve of their meeting. 
 
 On the day preceding, a vast number of 
 gentlemen from all parts of the province had 
 flocked into the city. The house of the go- 
 vernor was again filled to the very doors, and 
 though the formal opening of the states was 
 deferred till the succeeding day, they nominally 
 commenced their assembly on the day after the 
 Count's departure. The colleagues, Pelisson 
 and St. Helie, had separated after their arrival 
 in Poitiers, the former having gone to the 
 bishop's palace, where he busied himself in his 
 usual occupation at this time, namely, in dif- 
 fusing large sums of money through the province 
 by different channels, for the purpose of bribing 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 279 
 
 all persons who might be found weak or wa- 
 vering in the Protestant faith to abandon their 
 religion, and profess themselves Catholics. St. 
 Helie had remained at the house of the go- 
 vernor, following occupations more suited to his 
 genius, that of watching every thing that was 
 done, of gaining information concerning the 
 views and feelings of all persons likely to be 
 present at the assembly of the states, and of 
 endeavouring to form a party for his own pur- 
 poses amidst the more fierce, intolerant, and 
 bi2:oted of the influential Catholics of the 
 province. 
 
 The Duke de Rouvre could not avoid showing 
 this personage every sort of civility, for, indeed, 
 such was the King's command ; but at the same 
 time he could not conceal from himself that the 
 Abbe was a spy upon his actions, and was in- 
 tended to be a check upon his conduct, and, as 
 may well be supposed under such circumstances, 
 he was not particularly pleased with his guest. 
 
 On the day preceding the regular opening of 
 the states, then, after some of the preliminary 
 formalities had been gone through, the Due de 
 Rouvre, while conversing in his saloon with 
 twelve or fourteen of the principal Roman Ca- 
 tholic gentry, who had come to visit him as if 
 T 4 
 
280 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 by accident, but in reality by a previous ar- 
 rangement with others, was not agreeably sur- 
 prised to see the Abbe de St. Helie, followed 
 by Pelisson and the Cure of Guadrieul, enter 
 the room in somewhat a formal manner, and 
 advance towards him with a face of business. 
 He bowed low, however, as it was the first time 
 he had seen the Abbe that morning, greeted 
 Pelisson somewhat more warmly, and suffered 
 the third personage of the party to walk up in 
 bull-like sullenness with nothing but a formal 
 inclination of the head. 
 
 '' It is time, my Lord," said the Abbe de St. 
 Helie, '*' to fulfil the order of the King, and to 
 open in your presence the commission with 
 which he has entrusted us, of the nature of 
 which we are ourselves in some sort ignorant 
 up to this moment." 
 
 " I thought, gentlemen," said the Duke, 
 " that you informed me the commission was not 
 to be opened till after the opening of the 
 states." 
 
 " No, my Lord," replied the Abbe, " 1 said, 
 till after the meeting of the states, which were 
 convened to meet to-day." 
 
 " Well then, gentlemen," said the Duke, " I 
 will give you my attention in a few minutes. 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 281 
 
 
 
 You see I am at present occupied with friends, 
 but in half an hour I shall be prepared to re- 
 ceive you in my cabinet upon any business that 
 may remain to be transacted between us." 
 
 " I see no reason, my Lord," replied the Abbe, 
 " why the commission should not be opened 
 before the gentlemen here present, all of whom 
 are sincere Christians, and zealous supporters 
 of the true faith." 
 
 " No earthly reason whatever," replied the 
 Duke sharply, " except that I choose to do my 
 own business in my own way, in my own house, 
 and in my own government." 
 
 " I am sorry to suggest any alterations in 
 your Lordship's plans," replied the Abbe with 
 a cool sneer, " but I have authority for what I 
 am doing. The King's express directions are 
 to open the commission in presence of your 
 Lordship, and other competent ivitnesses." 
 
 " Oh, if such be the case," said the Duke, 
 much mortified, " there could be no witnesses 
 more competent, and none perhaps better pre- 
 pared than the present. Pray open your com- 
 mission, gentlemen. My good sirs, take your 
 seats round this table. Let us give the matter, if 
 possible, some air of regularity. Without there ! 
 Send for my secretary. We will wait till he 
 
282 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 comes, if you please, Monsieur de St. Helie. 
 What splendid weather this is, gentlemen. We 
 have not had one wet day for nearly two months, 
 and yet a gentle rain every morning." 
 
 The persons present ranged themselves round 
 the table, the Cure de Guadrieul produced the 
 leathern bag which contained the commission, 
 and laid it down heavily before him, and as soon 
 as the Duke's secretary appeared, a large knot 
 upon the leathern strings of the bag was cut 
 with a penknife, and the whole packet handed to 
 the Abbe de St. Helie, who had placed himself 
 at the governor's right hand. Opening the mouth 
 of the bag, then, the Abbe took forth a large 
 parchment packet, sealed up at both ends with 
 the royal arms of France. The governor asked 
 to look at the superscription, and finding it ad- 
 dressed in the usual terms to the Abbe St. Helie 
 and Pelisson, he gave it back to the former, who 
 with an important countenance and slow for- 
 mality began to break the seals. 
 
 Two or three paper covers were within in 
 order to keep the precious document secure, 
 and one by one the Abbe unfolded them., till 
 he came to the last, which was also sealed, but 
 which was much smaller than the size of the 
 outer parcel had given reason to expect. He 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 283 
 
 broke the seal himself, however, and produced 
 the contents, when, to the astonishment of every 
 body, and the merriment of the younger per- 
 sons present, there appeared nothing but a 
 pack of cards. 
 
 The Due de Rouvre looked on dryly, not a 
 smile curled his countenance, and he said, 
 gazing at the Abbe de St. Helie, who sat in 
 stupified silence,— 
 
 " I admire the sagacity and propriety with 
 which it has been judged necessary to appoint 
 witnesses for the opening of this commission, — 
 or of this game, perhaps I ought to say, Monsieur 
 de St. Helie. Gentlemen, I trust that you are 
 perfectly satisfied ; but I must ask you whether 
 it be necessary to direct my secretary to take a 
 proces verbal of the contents, import, and extent 
 of the Abbe's commission?" 
 
 In the mean time Pelisson had reached across, 
 and taken up the papers which had surrounded 
 the cards. He examined them minutely and 
 long ; but at length replied to the Duke's sneer 
 by saying,— 
 
 " Perhaps it may be more necessary, my 
 Lord, than you imagine. It seems to me from 
 the appearance of these papers that the packet 
 has been opened before. There is a slight tear 
 
284 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 in the parcbment, which tear is evidently not 
 new." 
 
 " You must look to that yourselves, gentle- 
 men," said the Due de Rouvre, seriously angry ; 
 " the commission has been in your charge and 
 custody, and in that of no one else. You best 
 know whether you have opened it before the 
 time or not. Secretary, as these gentlemen 
 demand it, make a note that we have this day 
 seen opened by the Abbe de St. Helie in our 
 presence a packet addressed to him and Mon- 
 sieur de Pelisson, purporting to be a commission 
 for certain purposes addressed to them by his 
 Most Christian Majesty ; and that on the said 
 packet being so opened, there has been found in 
 it nothing but a pack of cards, not in the most 
 cleanly condition." 
 
 " Pray let him add," said Pelisson, " that 
 I have declared my opinion, from the appear- 
 ance of the papers, that the said packet had 
 been previously opened." 
 
 " Let that also be noted," said the Duke ; 
 " but it must be noted also that Monsieur de 
 Pelisson did not make that observation till after 
 the packet had been opened, and the cards dis- 
 covered, that the seals were unbroken, and the 
 leathern bag entire; and now, gentlemen," he 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 285 
 
 continued, " after having interrupted my con- 
 versation with these noble gentlemen here pre- 
 sent to witness the opening of a pack of cards — 
 which may indeed be the commencement of a 
 game that I don't understand — perhaps you 
 will excuse me for rising and resuming our 
 more agreeable occupation." 
 
 Pelisson bowed his head, calm and undis- 
 turbed ; the Abbe de St. Helie looked stupified, 
 mortified, and angry beyond all measure; and 
 the dull priest of Guadrieul, upon whom the eyes 
 of both of his superiors were turned from time 
 to time with an expression of no very doubtful 
 import, looked swallowed up in stolid fear and 
 astonishment. The governor and his guests in 
 general had risen and scattered themselves about 
 the room, and after speaking to the Abbe de St. 
 Helie for a few moments, Pelisson advanced", 
 and took his leave in a few words, saying, that 
 of course it was their duty to inform the King 
 of what had occurred, and that therefore they 
 must proceed to write quickly before the ordi- 
 nary set out. 
 
 The governor bowed stiffly, and merely re- 
 plied that he himself could not think of 
 troubling the King upon a trifle of suc'i minor 
 importance, and therefore left them to make 
 
286 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 their communication in their own terms. The 
 three tlien retired, and the rest of the party 
 soon after separated ; but the worthy governor 
 had not been left half an hour alone before he 
 received a billet from the bishop, requesting 
 an audience, which was immediately granted. 
 He came, accompanied by Pelisson and the Cure 
 de Guadrieul, who remained without while the 
 archbishop and his companion held a previous 
 conference with the governor. The Cure was 
 then called in, and remained some time with 
 them. He was then sent out again to the ante- 
 chamber, then recalled, and nearly two hours 
 passed in wliat was apparently an unpleasant 
 discussion, for at the end of that time when the 
 governor returned to the saloon from his own 
 cabinet, Clemence de Marly, the Duchess, and 
 the Chevalier d'Evran, all remarked that he 
 was very much agitated and heated. 
 
 In a minute or two afterwards his secretary 
 followed him into the room with a note, appa- 
 rently just written, in his hand, and asked if 
 that would do. 
 
 The governor read the note, and replied, 
 " Yes ! Send it off directly," he said. " Bid 
 the messenger give my very best regards to the 
 Count de Morseiul ! Lay the strictest injunc- 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 287 
 
 tioiis upon him also not to stop this night till 
 he has overtaken the Count. If the Count be 
 in bed when he reaches the place where he is, he 
 need not of course disturb him till the morning. 
 — But bid him say every thing that is kind 
 from me." 
 
 Clemence de Marly rose, and with a winning 
 srace that was more natural to her than the 
 capricious pride she sometimes assumed, walked 
 up to the Duke, glided her arm through his, 
 and drew the old nobleman into one of the deep 
 windows. She spoke with him for several mi- 
 nutes earnestly, and he replied as if endeavour- 
 ing to parry by a jest some question he did not 
 choose to answer. 
 
 " Nay, nay," she was heard to say at length, 
 " my dear guardian, you shall tell me, and you 
 know that Clemence is more absolute than the 
 King." 
 
 " We will talk about it to-morrow, Clemence," 
 replied the Duke, " and perhaps I may tell you ; 
 but you shall make your confession in return, 
 ftur lady." 
 
 She blushed a little and turned away, and 
 thus the conversation ended. 
 
288 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE RECALL. 
 
 Albert of Morseiul rode on his way with a 
 heart ill at ease. The excitement of the pre- 
 ceding night was gone, and the lassitude that 
 succeeded it was like the weakness after a fever. 
 It seemed to him that the last cheerful hours of 
 life were over, and the rest was all to be strife 
 and anguish; that the last of all the sweet 
 dreams, with which hope and youth deck the 
 future, were done and passed away, and nothing 
 but the stern grey reality was left. It is hard 
 and sorrowful to make up the mind to any part- 
 ing, and tenfold hard and sorrowful to make up 
 the mind to our parting with the sweet pro- 
 mising fancies of our early days, to put our- 
 selves under a harsher guide for ever, and follow 
 with him a rugged and a cheerless path, when 
 before we had been treading on sweet sunshiny 
 flowers. In general, it is true, the wise bene- 
 ficence of Heaven has provided that we should 
 not part with all at once, but that the visions 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 289 
 
 and the dreams, like the many gay companions 
 of our boj^hood, should either be abandoned for 
 others, or drop away from our side, one by one, 
 till all are gone, and we hardly mark which is 
 the last. But there are times when all are 
 snatched away together, or, as in the case of 
 Albert of Morseiul, when the last that is taken 
 is the brightest and the best, and the parting is 
 clear, defined, and terrible. 
 
 Bitter, bitter, then, were his feelings as he 
 rode away from Poitiers, and made up his mind 
 that the last dream of youth was over, that the 
 nourished vision of long years was dissipated, 
 that the bubble was burst, and that all was 
 gone; that she who, half ideal, half real, had 
 been that object round which both memory and 
 imagination had clung as the something splendid 
 for the future, was not what he had dreamt of, 
 and even if she were, could never, never be his ; 
 and that at length that theme of thought was 
 gone from him for ever. That moment and 
 that spot seemed to form the parting place, 
 where youth, imagination, and happiness were 
 left behind, and care, reality, and anxiety 
 started forward with latter life. 
 
 Though, as we have endeavoured on more 
 than one occasion to show, the Count de Mor- 
 
 VOL. I. u 
 
290 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 seiul was a man of strong imagination and of 
 deep and intense feelings, yet he possessed qua- 
 lities of other kinds, which served to counter- 
 balance and to rule those dangerous gifts, not, 
 indeed, preventing them from having their effect 
 upon himself, paining, grieving, and wearing 
 him, but sufficient to prevent imagination from 
 clouding his judgment, or strong feeling from 
 warping his conduct from the stern path which 
 judgment dictated. He applied himself then to 
 examine distinctly what were the probabilities 
 of the future, and what was the line of conduct 
 that it became him to pursue. He doubted 
 not, indeed he felt strongly convinced, that Cle- 
 mence de Marly would ultimately give her hand 
 to the Chevalier d'Evran, to his friend and 
 companion. He believed that, for the time, 
 some accidental circumstance might have alien- 
 ated them from each other, and that, perhaps 
 on both sides, any warmer and more eager pas- 
 sion that they once had felt, might have been a 
 little cooled ; but still he doubted not, from all 
 he saw, that Clemence would yet be his friend's 
 bride, and the first part of his own task was to 
 prepare his mind to bear that event with calm- 
 ness, and firmness, and dignity, whenever it 
 should happen. As his thoughts reverted, how- 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 291 
 
 ever, to the situation of his fellow Huguenots, 
 and the probable fate that awaited them, he saw 
 a prospect of relief from the agony of his own 
 personal feelings in the strife that was likely to 
 ensue from their persecution ; and perhaps he 
 drew a hope even from the prospect of an early 
 grave. 
 
 With such thoughts struggling in his breast, 
 and with all the varied emotions which the im- 
 agination of the reader may well supply, Albert 
 of Morseiul rode on till he reached the house 
 appointed for his second resting place. Every 
 thing had been prepared for his reception, 
 and all the external appliances were ready to 
 insure comfort, so that there was not even 
 any little bodily want or irritation to withdraw 
 his attention from the gloomy pictures presented 
 by his own thoughts. 
 
 With a tact in such matters which was pe- 
 culiarly his own, Jerome Riquet took especial 
 care that the dinner set before his master should 
 be of the very simplest kind, and instead of 
 crowding the room with servants, as he had 
 done on a former occasion, he, who on the 
 journey acted the part of major domo, waited 
 upon the Count at table alone, only suffering 
 another servant to carry in and remove the 
 u 2 
 
292 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 dishes. He had taken the precaution of bring- 
 ing with him some wine from Poitiers, which 
 he had induced the sommelier of the archbishop 
 to pilfer from the best bin in his master's cellar, 
 and he now endeavoured to seduce his master, 
 whose deep depression he had seen and de- 
 plored during their journey, into taking more 
 of the fragrant juice than usual, not, indeed, by 
 saying one word upon the subject, but by filling 
 his glass whenever he saw it empty. 
 
 Now Jerome Riquet would have given the 
 tip of one of his ears to have been made quite 
 sure of what was the chief cause of the Count's 
 anxiety. That he was anxious about the state of 
 the Protestant cause the valet well knew ; that 
 he was in some degree moved by feelings of love 
 towards Clemence de Marly, Riquet very easily 
 divined. But Jerome Riquet was, as we have 
 before said on more than one occasion, shrewd 
 and intelligent, and in nothing more so than in 
 matters where the heart was concerned. It is 
 true he had never been in the room five times 
 when Clemence and his master were together, 
 but there are such things in the world wherein 
 we live as half open doors, chinks, key-holes, 
 and garret windows ; and in the arts and mys- 
 teries of all these, Jerome Riquet was a most 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 298 
 
 decided proficient. He had thus seen quite 
 enough to make him feel very sure, that what- 
 ever might be Clemence de Marly's feehngs 
 towards others, her feelings towards his master 
 WTre not by any means unfavourable ; and 
 after much speculation he had arranged in his 
 Gw^n mind — from a knowledge of the some- 
 w^hat chivalrous generosity in his master's cha- 
 racter — that he and the Chevalier d'Evran were 
 in love with the same person, and that the Count, 
 even with the greater probabiHty of success, had 
 abandoned the pursuit of his passion, rather 
 than become the rival of his friend. 
 
 Riquet wished much to be assured of this 
 fact, however; and to know whether it was 
 really and truly the proximate cause of the 
 melancholy he beheld, or whether there was 
 some deeper and more powerful motive still, 
 concealed from those eyes which he thought 
 were privileged to pry into every secret of his 
 master. Thus, after dinner was over, and the 
 dessert was put upon the table — though he had 
 wisely forborne up to that moment to do, to 
 say, or to allow any thing that could disturb the 
 train of the Count's thoughts — he could resist 
 no longer, and again quickly filled up his young 
 lord's glass as he saw it empty. 
 u 3 
 
294 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 His master put it aside with the back of his 
 hand, saying, " No more !" 
 
 " Oh, my Lord," said Riquet, " you will not 
 surely refuse to drink that glass to the health 
 of Mademoiselle Clemence !" 
 
 The Count, who knew him thoroughly, and 
 in general perceived very clearly all the turn- 
 ings and windings through which he pursued 
 his purposes, turned round, gazing in his face 
 for a moment as he bent over his shoulder, and 
 then replied with a melancholy smile, '' Cer- 
 tainly not, Riquet. Health and happiness to 
 her ! " and he drank the wine. 
 
 The look and the words were quite sufficient 
 for Jerome Riquet, though the Count was not 
 aware that it would be so; but the cunning 
 valet saw clearly, that, whatever other causes 
 might mingle with the melancholy of his master, 
 love for Clemence de Marly had a principal 
 share therein; and, confirmed in his own opinion 
 of his lord's motive in quitting Poitiers, his 
 first thought, when he cleared away and left him, 
 was, by what artful scheme or cunning device 
 he could carry him back to Poitiers against 
 his own will, and plunge him inextricably into 
 the pursuit of her he loved. 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 295 
 
 Several plans suggested themselves to his 
 mind, which was fertile in all such sort of in- 
 trigues, and it is very probable that, though 
 he had to do with a keen and a clear-sighted 
 man, he might have succeeded unaided in his 
 object ; but he suddenly received assistance 
 which he little expected, by the arrival, at their 
 first resting-place, of a courier from the Due de 
 Rouvre, towards the hour of ten at night. 
 
 Riquetwas instantly called to the messenger; 
 and, telling him that the Count was so busy that 
 he could see nobody at that moment, the valet 
 charged himself with the delivery of the note 
 and the message, while the governor's servant 
 sat down to refresh himself after a long and 
 fatiguing ride. Riquet took a lamp with him 
 to light himself up the stairs, though he had 
 gone up and down all night without any, and 
 before he reached the door of the Count's room, 
 he had of course made himself acquainted with 
 the whole contents of the note, so that when he 
 returned to the kitchen to converse with the 
 messenger, he was perfectly prepared to cross- 
 examine him upon the various transactions at 
 Poitiers with sagacity and acuteness. 
 
 The whole story of the cards found in the 
 King's packet had of course made a great 
 u 4 
 
2})6 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 sensation in the household of the governor, 
 and Riquet now laughed immoderately at the 
 tale, declaring most irreverently that he had 
 never known Louis le Grand was such a wag. 
 There is nothing like laughter for opening the 
 doors of the heart, and letting its secrets troop 
 out by dozens. The courier joined in the 
 merriment of the valet, and Riquet had no 
 difficulty in extracting from him every thing 
 else that he knew. The after conferences be- 
 tween the governor, Pelisson, and the Arch- 
 bishop, were displayed as far as the messenger 
 had power to withdraw the veil, and the general 
 opinion entertained in the governor's household 
 that some suspicion attached to the young 
 Count in regard to that packet, and that the 
 courier himself had been sent to recall him to 
 Poitiers, was also communicated in full to the 
 valet. To the surprise of the courier, however, 
 Riquet laughed more inordinately than ever, de- 
 claring that the governor, and the Archbishop, 
 and St. Helie, and Pelisson, must all have been 
 mad or drunk when they were so engaged. 
 
 In the mean time the Count de Morseiul had 
 opened the letter from the governor, and read 
 the contents, which informed him that a pack 
 of cards had been found, in place of a com- 
 
THE HUGUENOT, 297 
 
 mission, in the packet given by the King to 
 Messieurs St. Helie and Pelisson ; that those 
 gentlemen declared that the packet had been 
 opened; and that they had come with the Bishop 
 for the purpose of making formal application to 
 the governor to recall him, the Count de Mor- 
 seiul, to Poitiers, alleging that the only period 
 at which the real commission could have been 
 abstracted was while they were in his company 
 at an inn on the road. They had also pointed 
 out, the Duke said, that the Count, as one of the 
 principal Protestant leaders, was a person more 
 interested than any other, both to ascertain the 
 contents of that packet, and to abstract the com- 
 mission, in case its contents were such as they 
 imagined them to have been ; and at the same 
 time they said there was good reason to believe 
 that, in consequence of the knowledge thus ob- 
 tained, he, the Count de Morseiul, had called 
 toj^ether a meeiincr of Protestant gentlemen in 
 
 O O CD 
 
 the neighbourhood of Poitiers, had communi- 
 cated to them the plans and purposes of the 
 government, and had concerted schemes for 
 frustrating the King's designs. The Due de 
 Rouvre then went on to say, that as he knew and 
 fully confided in the honour and integrity of the 
 Count de Morseiul, and as the Bishop and Mon- 
 
298 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 sieur Pelisson had produced no corroborative 
 proof of their allegation whatsoever, he by no 
 means required or demanded the Count to 
 return to Poitiers, but thought fit to com- 
 municate to him the facts, and to leave him 
 to act according to his own judgment. 
 
 The Count paced the room in no slight agi- 
 tation for several minutes after he had read the 
 letter ; but it was not the abstraction of the 
 King's commission, if such an act had really taken 
 place, nor the accusation insinuated, rather than 
 made, against himself, which agitated him on the 
 present occasion. The accusation he regarded 
 as absurd, the abstraction of the commission 
 merely laughable; a suspicion indeed might 
 cross his mind that Riquet had had a hand 
 in it, but he knew well that he himself had 
 none, and therefore he cast the matter from his 
 mind at once. But his agitation proceeded from 
 the thought of beino- obliged to "o back to 
 Poitiers — from the fear of seeing all his good 
 resolutions overthrown — from the idea of meet- 
 ing once more, surrounded with greater dif- 
 ficulties and danger than ever, her whom he 
 now but too clearly felt to be the only being 
 that he had ever loved. 
 
 To the emotions which such considerations 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 299 
 
 produced, he gave up a considerable time, and 
 then, taking up the bell, he rang it sharply, 
 ordering the page that appeared to send Riquet 
 to him. He simply told the valet what had 
 occurred, and ordered his horses to be saddled 
 to return to Poitiers the next morning at day 
 break. He insinuated no suspicion, though he 
 fixed his eyes strongly upon the man's coun- 
 tenance, when he spoke of the abstraction of 
 the commission, but the face of Riquet changed 
 not in the least, except in consequence of a 
 slight irrepressible chuckle which took place at 
 the mention of the appearance of the cards. 
 The Count did not wish to inquire into the 
 matter, but, from what he saw of Riquet's man- 
 ner, he judged that his servant had nothing to 
 do with the transaction ; and, setting out early 
 the next morning, he went back to Poitiers at 
 full speed, hiring horses when his own were too 
 tired to proceed, so that he reached the house 
 of the c^overnor towards nine o'clock on the same 
 night. 
 
 He was immediately ushered into the saloon, 
 where the family of Monsieur de Rouvre and a 
 very small party besides were assembled, and, 
 apologising for the dustiness and disarray of his 
 appearance to the Duke, who met him near the 
 
300 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 door, he said that he had only presented himself 
 10 show that he had lost not a moment in re- 
 turning to repel the false insinuations made 
 against him. He was then about to leave 
 the room, hastily glancing his eye over the 
 party beyond, and seeing that his friend the 
 Chevalier was not present ; but the voice of the 
 Duchess de Rouvre called him to her side, 
 saying,— 
 
 " We will all, I am sure, excuse dust and dis- 
 array for the pleasure of Monsieur de Morseiul's 
 society. Is it not so, Madame de Beaune ? Is 
 it not so, Clemence?" 
 
 Clemence had scarcely looked up since the 
 Count's arrival, but she now did so with a slight 
 inclination of the head, and replied, " The Count 
 de Morseiul, my queen, values the pleasure of 
 his society so highly that he is disposed to give 
 us but little of it, it would appear." 
 
 The words were scarcely spoken when the 
 Count, with his own peculiar, graceful, but 
 energetic manner, walked straight up to Cle- 
 mence de Marly, and stopped opposite to her, 
 saying gravely, but not angrily, " I assure 
 you, dear lady, I do not deserve your sarcasm. 
 If you knew, on the contrary, how great was 
 the pleasure that I myself have derived from 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 301 
 
 this society, you would estimate the sacrifice I 
 made in quitting it, and approve, rather than 
 condemn, the self-command and resolution I 
 have shown." 
 
 Clemence looked suddenly up in his face with 
 one of her bright beaming smiles, and then 
 frankly extended her hand to him. " I was 
 wrong," she said ; " forgive me. Monsieur de 
 Morseiul ! You know a spoilt woman always 
 thinks that she has done penance enough when 
 she has forced herself to say I was wrong." 
 
 If the whole world had been present, Albert 
 of Morseiul could not have refrained from bend- 
 ing down his lips to that fair hand ; but he did 
 so calmly and respectfully, and then turning 
 to the Duchess, he said that if she would permit 
 him, he would but do away the dust and disarray 
 of his apparel, and return in a moment. The 
 petition was not of course refused ; his toilet 
 was hasty, and occupied but a few minutes ; and 
 he returned as quickly as possible to the hall, 
 where he passed the rest of the evening without 
 giving any farther thoughts or words to painful 
 themes, except in asking the governor to beg 
 the presence of the Bishop, Monsieur Pelisson, 
 and the Abbe de St. Helie, as early as possible 
 on the following morning, in order that the 
 
302 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 whole business might be over before the hour 
 appointed for the meeting of the states. 
 
 The Bishop, who was an eager and somewhat 
 bigoted man, was quite willing to pursue the 
 matter at once; and before breakfast on the fol- 
 lowing day, he, with the two Abbes and the 
 Cure de Guadrieul, met the Count de Morseiul 
 in the cabinet of the governor. 
 
 There was something in the frank, upright, 
 and gallant bearing of the young nobleman that 
 impressed even the superstitious bigots to whom 
 he was opposed with feelings of doubt as to the 
 truth of their own suspicions, and even with 
 some sensations of shame for having urged those 
 suspicions almost in the form of direct charges. 
 They hesitated, therefore, as to the mode of 
 their attack, and the Count, impatient of delay, 
 commenced the business at once by addressing 
 the Bishop. 
 
 " My noble friend, tlie Duke here present," 
 he said, " has communicated to me, my Lord, 
 both by letter and by word of mouth, a strange 
 scene that has been enacted here regarding a 
 commission, real or supposed, given by the King 
 to the Abbes of St. Helie and Pelisson. It seems, 
 that when the packet supposed to contain the 
 commission w^as produced, a pack of cards was 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 303 
 
 found therein, instead of what was expected; that 
 Monsieur Pelisson found reason to suppose that 
 the packet had been previously opened; and 
 that he then did — what Monsieur Pelisson 
 should not have done, considering the acquaint- 
 ance that he has with me and with my character 
 — namely, charged me with having opened, by 
 some private means, the packet containing his 
 commission, abstracted and destroyed the com- 
 mission itself, and substituted a pack of cards in 
 its place/' 
 
 " Stop, stop, my dear Count," said Pelisson, 
 " you are mistaken as to the facts. 1 never 
 made such an accusation, whatever others did. 
 All I said was, that you were the only person 
 interested in the abstraction of that conunission 
 who had possessed any opportunity of destroy- 
 ing it." 
 
 " And in so saying, sir, you spoke falsely," 
 replied the Count de Morseiul : " for, in the 
 first place, you insinuated what was not the case, 
 that I have had an opportunity of destroying it; 
 and, in the next place, you forgot that for three 
 quarters of an hour, or perhaps more, for aught 
 I know, your whole baggage was in the hands 
 of a body of plunderers, while neither youj 
 buried in your devotions, under the expectation 
 
304 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 of immediate death, nor Monsieur de St. Helie, 
 weeping, trembling, and insane in the agony of 
 unmanly fear, had the slightest knowledge of 
 what was done with any thing in your posses- 
 sion ; so that the plunderers, if they had chosen 
 it, might have re-written you a new commission, 
 ordering you both to be scourged back from 
 Poitiers to Paris. I only say this to show the 
 absurdity of the insinuations you have put forth. 
 Here, in a journey which has probably taken 
 you seven or eight days to perform, in the 
 course of which you must have slept at seven or 
 eight different inns upon the road, and during 
 which you were for a length of time in the hands 
 of a body of notorious plunderers, you only 
 choose to fix upon me, who entertained you with 
 civility and kindness, who delivered you from 
 death itself, and who saved from the flames and 
 restored to your own hands, at the risk of my 
 life, the very commission which you now insi- 
 nuate I had some share in abstracting from the 
 paper that contained it. Besides, sir, if I re- 
 member rightly, that packet was entrusted to 
 the care of a personage attendant upon your- 
 selves, and who watched it like the fabled guar- 
 dian of the golden fleece." 
 
 " But the guardian of the fleece slumbered, 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 305 
 
 sir," replied Pelisson, who, to say the truth, was 
 really ashamed of the charge which had been 
 brought against the Count de Morseiul, and was 
 very glad of an opportunity to escape from the 
 firm grasp of the Count's arguments by a figure 
 of speech. " Besides, Monsieur de Morseiul," 
 he said, " had you but listened a little longer 
 you would have heard, that though I said yours 
 was the only party which had an opportunity of 
 taking it, and were interested in its destruction, 
 I never charged you with doing so, or command- 
 ing it to be done ; but 1 said that some of your 
 servants, thinking to do you a pleasure, might 
 have performed the exchange, which certainly 
 must have been accomplished with great slight 
 of hand." 
 
 " You do not escape me so, sir," replied the 
 young Count; " if I know any thing of the laws 
 of the land, or, indeed, of the laws of common 
 sense and right reason, you are first bound to 
 prove that a crime has been committed, before 
 you dare to accuse any one of committing it. 
 You must show that there ever has been, in re- 
 ality, a commission in that packet. If I under- 
 stood Monsieur de Rouvre's letter right, the 
 seals of the King were found unbroken on the 
 packet, and not the slightest appearance of its 
 
 VOL. I. X 
 
306 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 having been opened was remarked, till you. 
 Monsieur Pelisson, discovered that there was 
 such an appearance after the fact. The King 
 may have been jesting with you ; Monsieur de 
 Louvois may have been making sport of you ; 
 a drunken clerk of the cabinet may have com- 
 mitted some blunder in a state of inebriety ; no 
 crime may have been committed at all, for aught 
 we know." 
 
 " My good sir," said the Bishop haughtily, 
 "you show how little you know of the King 
 and of the court of the King by supposing that 
 any such transactions could take place." 
 
 " My Lord," replied the Count, gazing upon 
 him with a smile of ineffable contempt, " when 
 you were a little Cur^ in the small town of 
 Castelnaudry, my father supported the late 
 King of France with his right hand, and with 
 the voice of his counsel : when you were troop- 
 ing after a band of rebels in the train of the 
 house of Vendome, I was page of honour to our 
 present gracious monarch, in dangers and diffi- 
 culties, in scantiness, and in want : when you 
 have been fattening in a rich diocese, obtained 
 by no services to the crown, I have fought be- 
 side my monarch, and led his troops up to the 
 cannon of his enemies' ramparts : I have sat 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 307 
 
 beside him in his council of war, and ever have 
 been graciously received by him in the midst of 
 his court ; and let me tell you, my Lord Bishop, 
 that it is not more improbable, nay, not more 
 impossible, that Louis XIV. should play a 
 scurvy jest upon two respectable ecclesiastics, 
 than that the Count of Morseiul should open a 
 paper not addressed to himself." 
 
 "Both good and true," my young friend, 
 said the Due de Rouvre : "no one who knows 
 you could suspect you of such a thing for a 
 moment." 
 
 " But we may his servants," said the Abbe de 
 St. Helie sharply, though he had hitherto re- 
 mained silent, knowing that he himself had 
 been the chief instigator of the charge, and 
 fearing to call upon himself the indignation of 
 the young Count. 
 
 " Well, gentlemen," said the Count de Mor- 
 seiul, " although I should have every right to 
 demand that you should first of all establish the 
 absolute fact of the abstraction of this packet 
 upon proper testimony, I will not only permit, 
 but even demand, that all my servants who 
 accompanied me from Morseiul shall be brought 
 in and examined one by one ; and if you find 
 X 2 
 
308 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 any of them to whom you can fairly attach a 
 suspicion, I will give him up to you at once, to 
 do what you think fit with. I have communi- 
 cated to them the contents of Monsieur de 
 Rouvr^'s letter, but have said nothing further 
 to them on the subject. They must all be 
 arrived by this time : I beg that you would call 
 them in yourselves in what order you please." 
 
 " By your leave, by your leave," said the 
 Abbe de St. Helie, seeing that the Bishop was 
 about to speak ; " we will have your valet ; 
 Jerome — I think I heard him so called. Let 
 us have him, if you please." 
 
 Jerome was accordingly brought in, and ap- 
 peared with a face of worthy astonishment. 
 
 Having in this instance not to deal with the 
 Count, of whom he stood in some degree of 
 awe, though that awe did not in the least dimi- 
 nish his malevolence, the Abbe de St. Helie 
 proceeded to conduct the examination of Ri- 
 quet himself. " You, Master Jerome Riquet," 
 he commenced, " you are, I presume, of the 
 church pretending to be reformed ? " 
 
 " Heaven forbid ! " exclaimed Riquet, in a 
 tone of well assumed horror. "No, reverend 
 sir, I am of the Holy Roman and Apostolical 
 Church, and have never yet gone astray from it. 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 309 
 
 This announcement did not well suit the pur- 
 poses of the Abbe, who, judging from the intoler- 
 ant feelings of his own heart, had never doubted 
 that the confidential servant of the young 
 Count would be found to be a zealous Hugue- 
 not. He exclaimed, however, " I am glad to 
 hear it — I am glad to hear it ! But let us 
 speak a little further, Monsieur Jerome. It 
 was you, I think, who snatched from under our 
 good brother here, Monsieur le Cure de Gua- 
 drieul, a certain sheep leather bag, containing 
 our commission from his Majesty. Was it 
 not so?" 
 
 " I certainly did gently withdraw from under 
 the reverend gentleman,*' replied Riquet, "a 
 bag on which he was sitting, and which he took 
 back again, as you saw, declaring it to be the 
 King's commission for exterminating the Hugue- 
 nots, which did my soul good to hear. I gave 
 it back with all reverence, as you saw, and had 
 it not in my hands a minute, though I did 
 think — though I did indeed know " 
 
 "'Did think? did know, what?" demanded 
 the Abbe. 
 
 " That it could not have been in safer hands 
 than mine," added Riquet; and though St. 
 X 3 
 
310 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 Helie urged him vehemently, he could get him 
 to give him no farther explanation. Angry at 
 being foiled — and such probably was the re- 
 sult that Riquet intended to produce — the Abbe 
 lost all caution and 'reserve. " Come, come, 
 Master Jerome Riquet," he exclaimed in a 
 sharp voice, "come, come; remember that there 
 is such a place as the Bastille. Tell us the 
 truth, sir ! tell us the truth ! This paper was 
 stolen ! You evidently know something about 
 it ! Tell us the truth, or means shall be 
 found to make you. Now, answer me ! If your 
 baggage were searched at this moment, would 
 not the packet be found therein — or have you 
 dared to destroy it ? " 
 
 Jerome Riquet now affected to bristle up in 
 turn. His eyes flashed, his large nostrils ex- 
 panded like a pair of extinguishers, and he 
 replied, " No, Abbe, no ; neither the one nor 
 the other. But since I, one of the King's most 
 loyal Catholic subjects, am accused in this way, 
 I will speak out. I will say that you two gen- 
 tlemen should have taken better care of the 
 commission yourselves, and that though not one 
 scrap will be found in my valise, or in the 
 baggage of any other person belonging to my 
 lord, I would not be answerable that more than 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 311 
 
 a scrap was not found amongst the baggage of 
 some that are accusing others." 
 
 " How now, sirrah," cried the Abbe de St 
 Helie, " do you dare to say that either Monsieur 
 Pelisson or I " 
 
 " Nothing about either of you two reverend 
 sirs," replied the valet, " nothing about either 
 of you two ! But first let my valise be brought 
 in and examined. Monsieur has been pleased to 
 say that there is something there ; and I swear 
 by every thing I hold dear, or by any other oath 
 your reverences please, that I have not touched 
 a thing in it since I heard of this business about 
 the cards. Let it be brought in, I say, and ex- 
 amined. May I tell the people without, my 
 Lord Duke, to bring in every thing I have in 
 the world, and lay it down here before you ? " 
 
 " The Duke immediately assented, and while 
 Jerome Riquet, without entirely leaving the 
 room, bade the attendants in the ante-chamber 
 bring in every thing, every thing they could 
 find in his room, St. Helie and Pelisson looked 
 in each others faces with glances of some embar- 
 rassment and wonder, while the Count de Mor- 
 seiul gazed sternly down on the table, firmly 
 believing that Master Jerome Riquet was en- 
 gaged in playing off some specious trick which 
 X 4 
 
312 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 he himself could not detect, and was bound not 
 to expose. 
 
 The goods and chattels of the valet were 
 brought in, and a various and motley display 
 they made; for whether he*had arranged the 
 whole on purpose out of sheer impudence, or had 
 left matters to take their course accidentally, 
 his valise presented a number of objects cer- 
 tainly not his own property, and to most of 
 which his master, if he had remarked them, 
 might have laid claim. The Count was silent, 
 however, and though the manifold collection of 
 silk stockings, ribands, lace, doublets, &c. &c. 
 &c., were drawn forth to the very bottom, yet 
 nothing the least bearing upon the question of 
 the abstraction of the commission was found 
 throughout the whole. 
 
 As he shook the last vest, to show that there 
 was nothing in it, a smile of triumph shone 
 upon the countenance of Jerome Riquet, and 
 he demanded, " Now, gentlemen, are you satis- 
 fied that I have no share in this business ? " 
 
 The Abb^ de St. Helie was hastening to ac- 
 knowledge that he was satisfied, tor he was 
 timid as well as malevolent ; and having lost 
 the hold, which he thought he might have had 
 on Jerome Riquet, the menacing words which 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 313 
 
 the valet had made use of filled his mind with 
 apprehensions, lest some suspicion should be 
 raised up in the mind of the King, or of 
 Louvois, that he himself had had a share in the 
 disappearance of the paper. Not so, however, 
 Pelisson, who, though he had learnt the lesson 
 of sycophancy and flattery with wonderful apti- 
 tude, was naturally a man of courage and reso- 
 lution, and before Monsieur de St. Helie could 
 well finish what he had to say, he exclaimed 
 aloud, — 
 
 " Stop, stop, Master Jerome Riquet, we are 
 undoubtedly satisfied that the papers are not in 
 your valise, and I think it probable that you 
 have had nothing to do with the matter ; but 
 you threw out an insinuation just now of which 
 we must hear more. What was the meaning 
 of the words you made use of when you said 
 that, you would not be answerable that more 
 than a scrap was not found amongst the bag- 
 gage of some that are accusing others ? " 
 
 Jerome Riquet hesitated, and either felt or 
 affected a disinclination to explain himself; 
 but Pelisson persisted, notwithstanding sundry 
 twitches of the sleeve given to him both by the 
 Abbe de St. Helie and the Bishop himself. 
 
 " I must have this matter cleared up," said 
 
314 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 Pelisson, " and 1 do not rise till it is. Explain 
 yourself, sir, or I shall apply both to your lord 
 and to the governor, to insist upon your so 
 doing." 
 
 Jerome Riquet looked towards the Count, 
 who immediately said, " What your meaning 
 was, Riquet, you best know ; but you must have 
 had some meaning, and it is fit that you should 
 explain it." 
 
 " Well, then," said Riquet, shaking his head 
 upon his shoulders with an important look, 
 " what I mean is this ; that if ever I saw a man 
 who had an inclination to see the contents of a 
 packet that did not belong to him, it was Mon- 
 sieur le Cure de Guadrieul there. He knows 
 very well that he talked to me for half an hour 
 of how easy it would be to get the packet out of 
 the bag, and he seemed to have a very great 
 inclination to do it." 
 
 While he made this insinuation, the dull, fat, 
 leaden-looking mass of the Cure de Guadrieul 
 was seen heaving with some internal convulsion : 
 his breath came thick, his cheeks and his breast 
 expanded, his eyes grew red and fierce, his 
 hands trembled with rage; and starting up from 
 his seat he exclaimed, — 
 
 " Me ? me ? By the Lord I will strangle thee 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 315 
 
 with my own hands," and he sprang towards 
 Jerome Riquet, as if to execute his threat ; 
 while the governor exclaimed in a voice of 
 thunder, " Sit down, sir ; and, as you have joined 
 in accusing others, learn to bear the retaliation, 
 as indeed you must." 
 
 " Can he deny what I say ?" demanded 
 Riquet, stretching out his three fore-fingers, 
 and shaking them in the Cure's face ; " can he 
 deny that he talked to me for half an hour 
 about the easiness of purloining the commis- 
 sion, and told me of a thousand instances of the 
 same kind, that have taken place before now ? 
 No, he cannot deny it ! " 
 
 " I did talk to thee, base miscreant," said the 
 Cure, still swelling with rage, " but it was to 
 show why I always sat upon the bag, and slept 
 with it under my head, ever after that affair 
 with the robbers." 
 
 " Mark that, gentlemen," said the Count de 
 Morseiul. 
 
 " Well, sir, we do mark it," said the Bishop ; 
 " that proves nothing against the Cure but ex- 
 treme care and precaution." 
 
 " Nor can I prove any thing directly, Mon- 
 seigneur," cried Riquet ; " but still I have a 
 strange suspicion that the very night I speak of 
 
316 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 did not go over without the fingers of Mon- 
 sieur le Cure being in the bag. Let me ask 
 him another question, and let him mind how 
 he answers it. Was he, or was he not, seen by 
 more than one person dabbling at the mouth 
 of the bag?" 
 
 " That was only to see that the knot was 
 fast," replied the Cure, glaring round him with 
 a look of growing bewilderment and horror. 
 
 " Ay, ay," continued Riquet, with a glance of 
 calm contempt that almost drove the man mad ; 
 " ay, ay, all I wish is that I had an opportunity 
 of looking into your baggage as you have had of 
 looking into mine." 
 
 " And so you shall, by Heaven," cried the 
 Due de Rouvre. " I will have it brought from 
 his chamber this instant." 
 
 " I don't care," cried the priest; "let it be 
 brought; you will find nothing there." 
 
 But the Abbe de St. Helie and the Bishop 
 both interposed. Though Pelisson said nothing, 
 and looked mortified and pained, the others 
 urged every thing that they could think of for 
 the protection of the baggage of the ecclesiastic, 
 without the slightest consideration of equity or 
 justice whatsoever; but the governor was firm, 
 replying, — 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 317 
 
 " Gentlemen, I will be responsible for my 
 conduct both to the King and to the King of 
 kings; and, in one word, I tell you that this 
 baggage shall be examined. You have brought 
 back the Count de Morseiul, and his whole 
 train, on charges and insinuations which you 
 have not been able to establish; and you would 
 now fain shrink from a little trouble and incon- 
 venience, which ought to be taken, in order to 
 clear one of yourselves of an imputation accom- 
 panied by a few singular facts. Maitre Riquet, 
 call one of my servants from the door, but do 
 not leave the room yourself." 
 
 As soon as the servant appeared, the go- 
 vernor, notwithstanding the renewed opposition 
 of the two ecclesiastics, ordered the whole bag- 
 gage and effects of the Cure de Guadrieul to 
 be brought down from the chamber that he 
 inhabited. This was accordingly done, and 
 besides a number of stray articles of apparel 
 almost as miscellaneous in character and ap- 
 pearance as those which the opening of Riquet's 
 valise had displayed, there was a large sort of 
 trunk-mail which appeared to be carefully locked. 
 The Cure had looked on with a grim and scowl- 
 ing smile while his various goods and chattels 
 were displayed upon the floor of the governor's 
 
818 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 cabinet, and then turning to St. Helie with a 
 growl, which might have been supposed to pro- 
 ceed from a calumniated bear, he said, — 
 
 " Don't be afraid. They can't find any 
 thing;" and advancing to his effects he shook 
 them one after the other, and turned out the 
 pockets, when there were any, to show that 
 there was nothing concealed. He then pro- 
 duced a large key, and opening the trunk-mail 
 took out, one by one, the various things that it 
 contained. He had nearly got to the bottom, 
 and was displaying a store of tobacco pipes, 
 some of which were wrapped up in pieces of 
 paper, some in their original naked whiteness, 
 when in the midst of them appeared what 
 seemed a tobacco box, also wrapped up in 
 paper. 
 
 The moment the eyes of Riquet fell upon 
 it he exclaimed, " Stop, stop, what is that ? " 
 There is writing on that paper. Monsieur le 
 Due, I pray you to examine what is on that 
 paper." 
 
 The eyes of the Cure, who had it in his 
 hand, fixed for an instant upon the tobacco 
 box and its envelope, and his fingers instantly 
 relaxed their grasp and suffered it to drop upon 
 the ground. Well, indeed, they might do so, 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 319 
 
 for the very first words that were seen were, 
 " I pray God to have you, Messieurs Pelisson 
 and St, Helie, in his lioly care," with the signa- 
 ture of " Louis." 
 
 The governor unrolled the paper which, 
 though it was but a fragment, left not the 
 slightest doubt that it was part either of a com- 
 mission or of a letter of instructions from the 
 King to the two ecclesiastics. "With his mouth 
 wide open, his eyes ready to start from their 
 sockets, his face become as pale as death, and 
 his limbs scarcely able to support him, the un- 
 fortunate Cure de Guadrieul stood gasping in 
 the middle of the room, unable to utter a word. 
 All eyes were fixed upon him, all brows were 
 frowning upon him, and the only thing which 
 could have roused him, if it had been possible 
 for any thing to rouse him at that moment, was 
 the extraordinary face which Jerome Riquet 
 was making, in a vain endeavour to mingle in 
 his countenance a certain portion of compassion 
 with contempt and reprobation. Nobody spoke 
 for a moment or two after the governor had 
 read the contents; but at length the Due de 
 Rouvre said, in a dry, severe tone, — 
 
 " Secretary, you have made a note of all 
 this; you will keep also the fragment of paper. 
 
320 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 My Lord the Bishop, Messieurs Pelisson and 
 St. Helie, after the painful and distressing 
 event of this examination, I shall make no com- 
 ment whatsoever upon what has taken place. 
 I beg that you would remove this personage 
 the Cuy6 de Guadrieul from my house, to do 
 with him as you think fit. You will not, of 
 course, be surprised when you remember the 
 threatening language which you three were 
 pleased to use towards myself, two days ago, 
 in order to induce me to cause the arrest of the 
 Count de Morseiul, upon a charge of crimes of 
 which he was not guilty — Monsieur Pelisson, 
 do not interrupt me : I know you were more 
 -moderate than the rest ; but as you were acting 
 together, I must look upon the words of one, 
 your spokesman, to be the words of all — You 
 will not be surprised I say, recollecting these 
 facts, that I send off a special messenger to his 
 Majesty this night, in order to give him my 
 own statement of all these occurrences, and to 
 beseech him to take those steps which to me seem 
 necessary for maintaining the peace and tran- 
 quillity of the province. I, gentlemen, do not 
 encroach upon the rights and privileges of 
 others ; and, so long as his Majesty is pleased to 
 hold me in an official situation, I will not suffer 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 321 
 
 any one to trench upon my privileges and legi- 
 timate authority. As the hour for the daily 
 meeting of the states is now fast approaching, 
 however, I will bid you farewell, begging you to 
 take this personage with you, and, as I have said, 
 deal with him as you think fit, for I wish to 
 exercise no severity upon any ecclesiastic." 
 
 The persons he addressed had nothing to say 
 in reply, though the Bishop thought fit to ha- 
 rangue the little party for a moment upon his 
 own authority and high dignity, and Pelisson- 
 endeavoured to involve a bad business in a 
 cloud of words. They were all, however, des- 
 perately mortified, and not a little alarmed; for 
 there was no doubt that they had proceeded far 
 beyond the point where their legitimate autho- 
 rity ended, in pressing the governor to severe 
 measures against the Count de Morseiul, The 
 loss of the packet, too, might now be attributed 
 to themselves, instead of to him ; the delay in 
 executing the King's will, as it had been ex- 
 pressed, would be laid to their charge ; the Due 
 de Rouvre was evidently highly irritated against 
 them, and his representations to the throne on 
 the subject were likely to be listened to with 
 peculiar attention, as they were coupled with 
 ihe announcement to the King that the states, 
 
 VOL. I. Y 
 
322 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 by his skilful management, had voted at once a 
 much larger sum as a gift than any one at the 
 court had anticipated. All these considerations 
 alarmed the whole party, though indeed Pelis- 
 son, who had more knowledge of human n^iture 
 than the other two, trusted, with some degree of 
 hope, that the cloak of religious zeal would 
 cover all other sins. His greatest apprehension 
 proceeded from the supposition that the King 
 would cast the blame of the loss of the packet on 
 themselves, and would attribute the negligence 
 which had caused it to want of respect to his 
 person. He therefore set himself straightway to 
 consider how such a result might be obviated. 
 The Bishop and the Abbe de St. Helie took an 
 unceremonious leave of the governor and his 
 friend, and pushing the culprit Cure of Gua- 
 drieul out before them, quitted the cabinet in 
 haste. Pelisson paused for a moment to say a 
 word or two more in order to mitigate, as far 
 as possible, the severity of the governor's re- 
 port; but Monsieur de Rouvre was in no very 
 placable mood, and the conference soon termin- 
 ated, leaving the governor and the Count to 
 discuss the affair, half laughingly, half seri- 
 ously. 
 
 Tlie invitation of the Due de Rouvre was now 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 323 
 
 pressing and strong, that the young Count de 
 Morseiul should remain at least two days longer 
 at Poitiers, and he coupled that invitation with 
 the direct intimation that it w as most necessary 
 he should do so, as he the Duke had yet to 
 learn in some degree the temper of the states 
 in regard to the important questions between 
 the Catholics and Protestants. The young Count 
 consequently agreed to remain ; taking the pre- 
 caution, however, of writing at full to Claude 
 de I'Estang, and sending off the letter by one 
 of his own trustworthy servants, beseeching liim 
 to draw up the petition which the Protestant 
 gentry had agreed upon, and to have it ready 
 by the time at which he proposed to arrive at 
 Morseiul. 
 
 During the greater part of those two days 
 which followed he saw little of Clemence de 
 Marly. Without any cause assigned, she had 
 been absent from all the spots where he was most 
 likely to see her, except on those occasions when 
 she w^as necessarily surrounded by a crowd. 
 After breakfast, she remained but a moment in 
 the salle : on the first day she did not appear 
 at dinner ; and on the second, she was absent 
 from the breakfast table. The Chevalier 
 d'Evran was also absent, and every thing 
 Y 2 
 
324 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 tended to confirm, in the mind of the young 
 Count de Morseiul, the impression which he 
 had received, that his friend was the lover of 
 her whom he himself loved, and that some 
 cause of disagreement, either temporary oi; per- 
 manent, had arisen between them. Nothing, 
 however, tended to confirm this idea more than 
 the appearance of Clemence herself when she 
 was present. There was an anxiety in the ex- 
 pression of her eyes ; a thoughtfulness about her 
 brow ; an impatience of society ; an occasional 
 absence of mind, which was hardly to be mis- 
 taken. Her whole appearance was that of a 
 person struggling with strong feelings, which 
 were in reality getting the mastery. 
 
 She showed no particular inclination after his 
 return — except as we have seen on the first 
 evening — to speak with the Count de Mor- 
 seiul, either in public or in private. Words of 
 civility passed between them, of course, and 
 every little courtesy was, perhaps, more scrupu- 
 lously observed than usual with her ; but on 
 that evening which closed the last day of the 
 young Count's proposed stay, a change took 
 place. 
 
 A large party had assembled at the governor's 
 house; and though he himself looked both 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 325 
 
 grave and anxious, he was doing the honours 
 of his dwelling to every one with as much 
 courtesy as possible, when suddenly, seeing the 
 Count de Morseiul standing alone, near the 
 doorway of the second room, he crossed over to 
 speak with him, saying, " Albert, Clemence was 
 seeking for you a moment ago. Where is she? 
 have you seen her?" 
 
 Ere the young Count could reply, Clemence 
 de Marly herself came up, as if about to speak 
 with the Duke, whose hand she took in hers, in 
 the sort of daughter- like manner in which she 
 always behaved to him. 
 
 " Monsieur de Morseiul," she said, with a 
 thoughtful lustre shining in her eyes, and giving 
 a deeper and brighter expression to her whole 
 countenance, " I have come to take refuge with 
 you from that young De Hericourt, who evi- 
 dently intends to persecute me during the whole 
 evening. — But stay, stay, Monseigneur," she 
 added, turning to the Duke, who seemed about 
 to leave them, to speak with some one else: 
 " before you go, hear what I am going to say to 
 Monsieur de Morseiul. You are going, Count, 
 I hear, to take your departure to-morrow morn- 
 ing early: if you would walk with me for half 
 an hour in the gardens ere you leave us, you 
 Y 3 
 
820 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 would much oblige me, as I wish to speak with 
 you. ■ — Now, dear King of Poitou," she con- 
 tinued, turning to the Duke, " you may go. I 
 have no more secrets to make you a witness of." 
 
 The Duke replied not exactly to her wx)rds, 
 but seemed fully to comprehend them ; and say- 
 ing, " Not to-night, Clemence ! remember, not 
 to-night ! " he left her under the charge of the 
 Count de Morseiul, and proceeded to attend to 
 his other guests. 
 
 Placed in a situation somewhat strange, and, 
 as it were, forced to appear as one of the 
 attendant train of the bright and beautiful 
 girl, from whose dangerous fascinations he was 
 eager to fly, for a single instant Albert of 
 Morseiul felt slightly embarrassed; but un- 
 expected situations seldom so much affected him 
 as to produce any thing like ungraceful hesi- 
 tation of manner. Clemence de Marly might 
 not, perhaps, even perceive that the Count was 
 at all embarrassed, for she was deeply occupied 
 with her own fancies ; and though she conversed 
 with him not gaily, but intelligently, there was 
 evidently another train of thought going on in 
 her breast all the time, which sometimes made 
 her answer wide from the mark, and then smile 
 at her own absence of mind. 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 327 
 
 The eyes of the young Marquis de Hericourt 
 followed her wherever she turned, and certainly 
 bore not the most placable expression towards 
 the Count de Morseiul; but his anger or his 
 watching disturbed neither Clemence nor her 
 companion, who both had busy thoughts enough 
 to occupy them. After some time the excitement 
 of the dance seemed to rouse Clemence from her 
 musing fit; and, though confined to subjects of 
 ordinary interest, the conversation between her 
 and the Count became of a deeper tone and 
 character, and her heart seemed to take part in 
 it as well as her mind. Albert of Morseiul 
 felt it far more dangerous than before; for though 
 they might but speak of a picture, or a statue, 
 or a song, with which he could have conversed 
 with a connoisseur of any kind, perhaps with 
 more profit, as far as mere knowledge of the 
 subject went, yet there was a refinement of 
 taste evident in the manner in which Clemence 
 viewed every thing, a sparkling grace given by 
 her imagination to every subject that she 
 touched upon, when her feelings were really 
 interested therein, which was very, very winning 
 to a mind like that of Albert de Morseiul. 
 
 Is it possible, under such circumstances, always 
 to be upon one's guard ? Is it possible, when the 
 
328 THE HTTGUENOT. 
 
 heart loves deeply, always to conquer it with so 
 powerful an effort, as not to let it have the rule 
 even for an hour ? If it be, such was not the 
 case with the young Count de Morseiul. He 
 forgot not his resolutions, it is true ; but he gave 
 himself up to happiness for the moment, and 
 spoke with warmth, enthusiasm, and eagerness, 
 which can seldom, if ever, be displayed to a per- 
 son we do not love. There was a light, too, in 
 his eye when he gazed on Clemence de Marly 
 
 — a look in which regret was mingled with ten- 
 derness, and in which the cloud of despair only 
 shadowed, but did not darken the fire of passion 
 
 — which might well show her, unless her eyes 
 were dazzled by their own light, that she was 
 loved, and loved by a being of a higher and more 
 energetic character than those which usually 
 surrounded her. 
 
 Perhaps she did see it — perhaps she did 
 not grieve to see it — for her eyes became 
 subdued by his ; her mellow and beautiful voice 
 took a softer tone ; the colour came and went 
 in her cheek ; and before the end of tiie dance 
 in which they were engaged, her whole appear- 
 ance, her whole manner, made the Count ask 
 himself, " What am I doing?" 
 
 Clemence de Marly seemed to have addressed 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 329 
 
 the same question to her own heart; for as soon 
 as the dance was over, the cloud of thoughtful 
 sadness came back upon her brow, and she said, 
 " I am fatigued. I shall dance no more to-night. 
 All the peeple are doubtless come now, and 
 dear Madame de Rouvre will move no more ; so 
 I shall go and set myself down in state beside 
 her, and get her to shield me from annoyance 
 to-night." 
 
 The Count led her towards the Duchess, in- 
 tending himself to seek his chamber soon after ; 
 but as they went, Clemence said to him in a low 
 tone, " Do you see that pretty girl sitting there 
 by her mother, old Madame de Marville, so 
 modest, and so gentle and retiring. She is as 
 good a little creature as ever breathed, and as 
 pretty, yet nobody leads her out to dance. If 
 I had a brother, I should like him to marry that 
 girl. She would not bring him fortune, but 
 she would bring him happiness. I wish. Mon- 
 sieur de Morseiul, you would go and ask her to 
 dance." 
 
 Though he was anxious to retire, and full of 
 other thoughts, Albert of Morseiul would not 
 have refused for the world ; and Clemence, lead- 
 ing hini up to her friend, said, " Annette, here is 
 
330 THE HUGUENOT. 
 
 Monsieur le Comte de Morseiul wishes to dance 
 with you : I am sure you will, for your friend's 
 sake." 
 
 The young lady bowed her head with a slight 
 timid blush, and rising, allowed the Couijt to 
 lead her to the dance. 
 
 No great opportunity of conversing existed; 
 but Albert of Morseiul took especial pains to 
 show himself as courteous and as kind as pos- 
 sible. Annette de Marville led the conversation 
 herself to Clemence de Marly, and nothing 
 could exceed the enthusiastic admiration with 
 which she spoke of her fi'iend. Perhaps a little 
 to the surprise of the Count, she never men- 
 tioned Clemence's beauty, or her grace, or her 
 wit ; matters which, in those days, and at the 
 court of Louis XIV., were the only topics for 
 praise, the only attractions coveted. She spoke 
 of her high and noble feelings, her enthusiastic 
 and affectionate heart ; and, in answer to some- 
 thing which the Count said not quite so lauda- 
 tory as she would have had it, she exclaimed, — 
 
 "Oh! but Clemence does not do herself jus- 
 tice in the world. It is only to those who know 
 her most intimately that her shy heart will show 
 itself." 
 
THE HUGUENOT. 331 
 
 The words sunk into the mind of the Count 
 de Morseiul; and when the dance was concluded, 
 and he had led back his fair companion to her 
 seat, he retired speedily to his own apartments, 
 to meditate over what he had heard, and what 
 had taken place. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 London : 
 Printed by A. Spottiswoode, 
 New-Street-Square. 
 
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