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 TEE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 rOTJNDED ON THE HISTORY OP THE WILDENSIAN CHURCH 
 
 CUBING THE YEAB 1655, COMMONLY CALLED 
 "THE TEAE OF MASSACREP."
 
 THE 
 
 SIX SISTEES or THE VALLEYS. 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. WILLIAM BRAMLEY-MOORE, M.A., 
 
 IlfCTmBENT OF GEBEAED'S CEOSS, BUCKS. 
 
 WITH ILLrSTRATIOXS DRATS-X BY T. H. XICHOLSOX, ENGRAVED 
 BY C. W. SHEERES. 
 
 " I declare that I feel an invincible horror for all tortures and violence 
 inflicted upon hiunanity under the pretext of serving or defending religion." 
 
 JIOKTALEJXBEET, AugUst, 1863. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 LONGMAN, GREEN, LONGMAN, EOBERTS, AND GREEN. 
 
 1864. 
 {The Bight of Translation is Reserted.'l
 
 "f 
 
 P?^WfR.
 
 8^3 
 
 TO THE MEMBEES 
 OP 
 
 THE WALDEKSIAIT CHURCH, 
 
 rjf THE VALLEYS OF PIEDIIONT, 
 i* THIS WORK, 
 
 ,/V ILLUSTRATIXG A POETION OF THEIR FATHERS* HISTORY, AS'D 
 s^^ WHOSE SCENES ARE PRDs'CIPALLY L A TT) IX THE 
 
 Q^ VALLEY OF LrCERNA, 
 
 IS DEDICATED, 
 
 WITH FEELINGS OF ADillRATION AND CHRISTIAN FELLOWSHIP, 
 
 ' ' BY THEIR OBEDIENT SERVANT, 
 
 THE AUTHOE.
 
 PREFACE, 
 
 The following romance adheres, for the most part, 
 rigidly to history, and presents a general sketch of 
 the period in which the scene is laid. Almost every 
 incident is based upon authentic facts, and the 
 allusions in the conversations are more or less his- 
 torical, and can be verified by references. If any 
 details appear horrible, let truth be their apology. 
 Yet let the reader remember that the half is not told. 
 Nothing could exceed the cruelties and horrors that 
 were actually perpetrated by the Roman Catholics 
 against the Waldenses ; the imagination can hardly 
 conceive them, morality forbids us to blacken our 
 pages with their exhumation, and they would be 
 difficult to credit, were it not for the well-known 
 evil of human nature, especially when excited by 
 religious hatred and persecuting intolerance.
 
 VUl PEEFACE. 
 
 The writer is aware that in this present age of 
 indifferentism he must submit to the charge of 
 bigotry. Had the deeds mentioned in these volumes 
 happened but once the accusation might be justified, 
 but from their lamentable recurrence they cannot 
 be looked upon as accidental outbursts ; they have 
 happened in every clime where the Roman Catholic 
 religion is dominant, and must be considered as an 
 intrinsic part of the genius of that system. 
 
 To prove that the events we relate have had their 
 unhappy parallel in history, we may quote Hume's 
 account of the massacre of the English Protestants 
 in Ireland by the Papists in 1641 : — 
 
 " But death was the lightest punishment inflicted 
 by those rebels. All the tortures which wanton 
 cruelty could devise, all the lingering pains of body, 
 the anguish of mind, the agonies of despair, could 
 not satiate revenge excited without injury, and cruelty 
 derived from no cause. To enter into particulars 
 would shock the least delicate humanity. Such 
 enormities, though attested by undoubted evidence, 
 appear almost incredible. Depraved nature, even per- 
 verted religion, encouraged by the utmost licence, 
 reaches not to such a pitch of ferocity, unless the pity 
 inherent in human breasts be destroyed by that con- 
 tagion of example which transports men beyond all 
 the usual motives of conduct and behaviour.
 
 PREFACE. 11 
 
 "Amidst all these enormities tlie sacred name of 
 religion resounded on every side, not to stop tte 
 hands of these murderers, but to enforce their blows, 
 and to steel their hearts against every movement of 
 human or social sympathy. The English, as heretics, 
 abhorred of God, and detestable to all holy men, 
 were marked out by the priests for slaughter, and, of 
 all actions, to rid the world of these declared enemies 
 to CathoHc faith and piety, was represented as the 
 most meritorious. Nature, which in that rude people 
 was sufficiently inclined to atrocious deeds, was 
 farther stimulated by precept, and national prejudices 
 empoisoned by those aversions, more deadly and in- 
 curable, which arose from an enraged superstition. 
 While death finished the sufferings of each victim, 
 the bigoted assassins, with joy and exultation, still 
 echoed in his expiring ears, that these agonies were 
 but the commencement of torments infinite and 
 eternal." — Hume's Sistorij of Migland, vol. vi., 
 chap. Iv., p. 384. 
 
 Passages like these may rescue anything in the 
 following pages from being deemed an exaggeration ; 
 but the well-nigh incredible cruelties of 1655 are 
 well authenticated. Leger, the moderator of the 
 Waldensian churches, and Sir Samuel Morland, the 
 " commissioner extraordinary," sent by Cromwell, 
 immediately after the massacres, to remonstrate with
 
 X PREFACE. 
 
 the court of Turin, have left us the notarial deposi- 
 tions of the murderous incidents. Europe was 
 thrilled with horror, Louis the XlVth (the future 
 revoker of the Edict of Nantes, 1685) wrote to the 
 Duke of Savoy, and as Englishmen we may feel proud 
 of the honourable part taken by this country, both 
 in j)rotesting and in relieving the distressed. 
 
 Sir Samuel Morland wrote a history, entitled, 
 "The History of the Evangelical Church of the 
 Valleys of Piemont," to which reference may be 
 made at the British Museum, or at the Cambridge 
 University Library. The following is his heading to 
 Book ii., Chapter vi., in which he gives the details 
 of the massacres : — 
 
 " A brief and most authentick narrative of some 
 part of those extraordinary cruelties wliich were 
 exercised against the poor Protestants in the Valleys 
 of Piemont during the heat of the late massacre, in 
 the year of our Lord 1655, in the month of April. 
 Every particular circumstance whereof was abun- 
 dantly verified to the authour, during his abode in 
 these parts, both by word of mouth, and by the 
 formal Attestations and Subscriptions of those very 
 persons who were both Eye and Ear witnesses of those 
 inhumane Cruelties, the true originals of some where- 
 of he hath exposed to publick view in the Library of 
 the University of Cambridg, and for several weighty
 
 PEEFACE. XI 
 
 Reasons hath reserved the rest in his own custody, 
 ready to give any ingenuous person full and clear 
 satisfaction." 
 
 His own speech before the Court of Turin, the 
 attestation of the officer Du Petit Bourg, the re- 
 monstrances of the various courts of Europe, place 
 the truth of these incidents beyond cavil. 
 
 Morland collected many original documents and 
 manuscripts, and deposited them at Cambridge, where 
 they now exist, to wit, the Bull of Innocent the 
 Ylllth., Du Petit Bourg's attestation. The Factum 
 of the Court of Ihirin, The Noble Lecon, and many 
 others. These MSS. form twenty-one volumes, lettered 
 from A to W. For many years the volumes from 
 A to G were wanting, and it was supposed that the}'- 
 had been stolen in the reign of James II. 
 
 Dr. Gilly, in his " Waldensian Researches, 1831," 
 page 157, discusses the question, and regrets the 
 hopeless loss of these venerable documents. He 
 says, page 156 : — 
 
 " Since the lost manuscripts were missing from 
 the library in 1794 and in 1753, and no light was 
 thrown at either of these periods upon the manner in 
 which they had been removed, I fear all trace must 
 now be considered as entirely gone, and nothing but 
 accident will clear up the mystery which hangs 
 about them."
 
 Xll PEEFACE. 
 
 On writing to Cambridge for information on tliis 
 subject, the author was glad to learn from Mr. Brad- 
 sbaw, of King's College, that he has had the satis- 
 faction of clearing up the mystery. The missing 
 volumes were all the time under the eyes of the 
 seekers, having got misplaced among some Spanish 
 manuscripts, some librarian, probably, not having 
 understood the Romance characters. Mr, Bradshaw 
 read a paper on the subject before the Cambridge 
 Antiquarian Society, May 12, 1862. The author 
 mentioned this when addressing the Waldensian 
 Church, assembled in Synod in May last, and the 
 circumstance excited much interest, as it bears on 
 the question of the date of the "Noble Le9on." 
 
 The plot of the story is founded on the following 
 fact, a fact bordering on romance, and which, from 
 its wondrous originality and patriarchal beauty, must 
 enlist the interest of the feeling and virtuous : — 
 
 ** Comme je connoissois particulierement la Fa- 
 mille de ces Prins, je ne puis m'empecher de remar- 
 quer icy par parentese, qu'ils estoient six Freres, et 
 avoient epouse six Soeurs, ayans tous plusieurs 
 Enfans, et vivoient tous ensemble sans avoir jamais 
 fait de partage, et sans que jamais on ait remarque 
 la moindre discorde dans cette Famille; composee 
 de plus de quarante personnes, chacun se tenant a sa 
 tache, les uns au travail des Yignes, et au labourage
 
 PREFACE. xiii 
 
 des Champs, les autres an soin des Prairies, et a celuy 
 des troupeaux de Yaches, de Brebis, on de Chevres. 
 L'aine des Freres, et sa Femine qui estoit Tainee 
 des ScBurs, estans le Pere et la Mere de toute la 
 Famille." — Leger, Part ii., cliapter ix., page 122. 
 
 The following is Dr. Huston's translation, vol. i. 
 page 352 : — 
 
 " ' I cannot refrain from remarking here,' adds 
 the historian, ' that there were six brothers of these 
 Prinses, and that they had married six sisters, and 
 all of them had numbers of children, and that they 
 lived together without having ever made any division 
 of their property, and without the slightest discord 
 having ever been observed in that family. It was 
 composed of more than forty persons, each of whom 
 had his own department of labour ; some in the work 
 of the vineyards and cultivation of the fields, others 
 in the care of the meadows or in that of the flocks. 
 The eldest of the brothers and his wife, who was 
 also the eldest of the sisters, were like the father and 
 mother of the whole family.' Yet these patriarchal 
 scenes, so worthy of respect, so beautiful, so simple, 
 and so Christian, furnished prey to the demon of 
 Popery, trained to cruelty by superstition, and de- 
 scending beneath the level of the savage." 
 
 When visiting the valleys in 1857, the author 
 had the good fortune to procure an ancient copy of
 
 lay- PREFACE. 
 
 " Leger'g History," the very book, he believes, from 
 which Rodolphe Peyran argued with Dr. Gilly, as 
 mentioned by him, page 79, in his "Narrative of 
 an Excursion to the Mountains of Piedmont in the 
 Year 1823." This book suggested the following 
 romance, and has been useful in its composition. 
 
 The liberties taken with the persons and places 
 are slight. The Parm of La Baudene, which was 
 near Villar, has been located nearer the entrance 
 of the Valley of Lucerna, for the embodiment of 
 Gastaldo's edict. The Valley of Lucerna is the 
 same as that of the Val Pelice, although the latter 
 has within the last three years become its official 
 name. Joshua Janavel, who is an historical cha- 
 racter, has been made one of the family of the 
 Prinses, for the sake of the unity of the plot, but his 
 actions, almost incredible as they appear, are not 
 exaggerated. 
 
 The conversation of the female propaganda, th& 
 death-bed of the Marchioness, the preaching of the 
 monk, the death of Rodolphe, the allusions to the 
 Popes in the mouth of Malvicino, in short, well 
 nigh every incident is based on facts, the principal 
 exceptions being the development of the plot, pro- 
 perly so called, connected with Ardoine at the end 
 of volume ii., and with Echard, volume iii. 
 
 These considerations, it is hoped, will add to the
 
 PREFACE. XV 
 
 value of the story. The author proposes a higher 
 aim than enabling the thoughtless to get through 
 the tedium of idleness — he is concerned Avith the 
 propagation of truth. He has endeavoured to cast 
 light on the false creed and acts of that mysterious 
 Church, which is of a truth " drunk with the blood 
 of the saints," and to illustrate those blessed truths 
 which it is our glory to possess, and our responsibility 
 to hand down, unimpaired, to our children. Above 
 all he hopes that the truth of the Gospel will be 
 found set forth in these pages, and that scenes like 
 the death-beds of the Marchioness and of Marie will 
 illustrate their respective principles and hopes. 
 
 The Waldenses are interesting to us, as formino^ 
 the historic link between the Reformation and 
 Apostolic times, having always protested against the 
 innovations and heresies of the Church of Eome. 
 
 The author offers this mite as the contribution 
 of an individual mind to what he believes to be 
 the cause of truth, and as a protest against the 
 encroachments of that Church, which, while she 
 totters on the banks of the Tiber, is strengthening 
 her stakes and lengthening her cords on the banks of 
 the Thames.* Happy will he be if from his humble 
 
 * From 1850 to 1862 the increase of Eomish priests in 
 England and Scotland has been 459 (out of 1397) ; of chapels, 
 382 (out of 1065) ; of conTents, 118 (out of 171).
 
 XVI PREFACE. ^ 
 
 / 
 
 parsonage lie can promote the cause of truth, as the '^ 
 Waldenses have done in the hidden valleys at the 
 base of Monte Viso. 
 
 With reference to the inevitable accusation of 
 partisan writing, he begs to observe that in times 
 such as those whereof he treats, the characters of 
 both parties become more defined and contrasted. 
 The rage and hatred of the persecutor thus serves 
 to develop the "patience and faith of the saints," and 
 a reference to any of the Histories of Persecutions 
 will prove that neither the one nor the other are 
 exaggerated, but that both phases are verified by 
 human experience. 
 
 As regards the charge of reviving "the evil" Af 
 which history has buried, we should remember that 
 the wisdom of the present is based upon the experi- 
 ence of the past ; that so far from it being our duty, 
 in charity, to cast a veil over the crimes of the Eo- 
 mish Church, that arch conspirator against the liber- 
 ties of mankind, it is a charity to the human race to 
 unmask their enemy, and to warn the present gene- 
 ration of the onslaught of an insidious foe. 
 
 The historical and oft-repeated crimes of a com- 
 munity like the Church of Rome (which appears to 
 be expressly denounced in the Word of God), and 
 the individual follies or errors of our neighbour, 
 require the exercise of a different charity. To be
 
 1 
 
 PEEFACE. xvi 
 
 blind to the latter may be a virtue ; to be blind to the 
 former mnst be a -s-ice. 
 
 The author has but thrown the invectives and de- 
 scriptions of general histoiy into individual portraits, 
 for what can exceed the horrors which Roman 
 Catholic historians have left on record of the state 
 of Ecclesiastical Society during the middle ages, 
 and up to the time of which we write ? 
 
 If systems of religion are to be judged by their 
 fruits, Roman Catholicism has a long range of adverse 
 testimonies from the Chairs of John XXIII., and of 
 Alexander YI., through the zeal of Simon de Montfort, 
 Dominic, Torquemada, or Pianesse, down to the 
 laurelled waiTiors of Spoleto and the disloyal rabble 
 of Cork. 
 
 Let us as Englishmen prize our blood-bought 
 privileges, and by spiritual weapons resist the ad- 
 vance of that sect which hates freedom and only 
 wants more power to rob us of earth's choicest 
 birth-right, our civil and religious liberty. 
 
 A change, it is asserted, has of late come over 
 the spiiit of Rome ; but in refutation of this, we may 
 point to cases like that of Matamoros in Spain, and 
 others, who were sentenced to eight and nine years of 
 the galleys for reading the Scriptui'es. The Church 
 of Rome professes to be infallible in doctrine, and 
 persecution has been authorized and vindicated. 
 VOL. I.
 
 XVlll PREFACE. 
 
 We do not say that all Roman Catholics are 
 cither intolerant or insincere, and we rejoice to do 
 honour to Fenelon, Massillon, Guyon, Pascal, Samuel 
 Yacca, and others of kindred spirit ; but that 
 the genius of the system is what we have repre- 
 sented, and that the characters of the time are not 
 exaggerated, can be readily verified by appeals to 
 authors of all persuasions. 
 
 With reference to the practices of Rome and her 
 clergy in the present day, we may refer to the letter 
 of Settembrini to Cardinal Riario Sforza, published 
 in the Times of September 2, 1863. On such points 
 let the Italians themselves be the judges. "In 
 brief," writes the Cavaliere Settembrini, "wherever 
 we open the Gospel by accident, we see that the 
 doctrine and the holy life of Jesus Christ are just 
 the opposite of the doctrine of the Roman Catholic 
 Church, and of the works of the priests." 
 
 The following is from a leading article in the 
 Times, September 2, 1863 :— 
 
 " M. Montalembert throws the Inquisition over- 
 board, and denounces the persecuting acts of the 
 Roman Church. He sacrifices a whole page of the 
 past. But this is not all that M. Montalembert does. 
 He declares his hostility to all the existing remains 
 of this system ; to that modified persecution which 
 consists in simply prohibiting the spread of new
 
 PREFACE. XIX 
 
 doctrines, and coercing the agents in such efforts, 
 imprisoning them, and fining them. But this is the 
 system now in Spain, it has only just been abolished 
 by Sardinian rule in the greater part of Italy, and 
 it is in full action at this moment in Rome. Any- 
 body in the Papal states can be put in gaol for 
 disseminating obnoxious doctrines." 
 
 The following quotation from Dr. Gilly will be 
 read with interest : — 
 
 " Some of the narratives that I read seemed to 
 give quite a romantic, and even fabulous air, to the 
 conflicts which this little community (never exceeding 
 twenty thousand souls) had the courage to hold with 
 their powerful neighbours ; and my expectations were 
 raised by several of the descriptions to see a region, 
 which would appear more like fairy-land than the 
 theatre of real achievements. Every vale and glen 
 is represented in these relations as sacred ground, 
 from having been ennobled by some exploit in defence 
 of liberty or religion, or consecrated to the memory 
 of a hero who had bled, or a martyr who had suffered 
 there. One writer calls the valleys of these Vaudois 
 'an holy asylum which God has wonderfully and 
 even miraculously fortified ;' and a Popish author, 
 who wrote against the Vaudois, bears this remark- 
 able testimony to tlieir successful resistance of 
 aggression. ' Toutes sortes de gens en divers temps.
 
 XX. PREFACE. 
 
 par un tres-grand effort, ont en vain essaye de les 
 arracher, car contre 1' opinion de tout le monde ils 
 sont tonjours demeurez vainqueurs, et du tout invin- 
 cibles.'* But highly coloured as such accounts may 
 be thought to be, an investigation into the history of 
 these mountaineers, and a survey of their country, 
 will clearly prove that neither the extraordinary 
 events in the one, nor the beauty or sublimity described 
 in the other, have been exaggerated." 
 
 The author cannot refrain from quoting the fol- 
 lowing extract from Canon Wordsworth's speech in 
 Convocation, February 12th, 1863 : — 
 
 " What could be a more wonderful thing than the 
 fact that the very person — Father Carlo Passaglia — 
 celebrated for his advocacy of the new doctrine of 
 the Immaculate ConcejDtion, the very man who was 
 especially honoured by Pope Pius IX., the man who 
 had written three quarto volumes on behalf of that 
 new doctrine, should be now residing at Turin, the 
 capital of Piedmont, in the very house where Count 
 Cavour was born, and where he died ? He had col- 
 lected upwards of nine thousand signatures, all the 
 signatures of priests contending for Italian liberty, 
 and for the abolition of the temporal supremacy of 
 the Pope. Father Passaglia having, in the teeth of 
 the anathemas of ,the Papacy, raised this cry for 
 * Claude Sejssel.
 
 PREFACE. XXi 
 
 the abolition of the temporal siipremaey, they must 
 ultimately come to the question of the spiritual 
 supremacy likewise. This manifestation against the 
 temporal was also a protest against the spiritual 
 supremacy. When they looked back to history, and 
 remembered the horrors and massacres that were 
 inflicted by the House of Savoy in the extermination 
 of Christians, and when they now saw raised up an 
 army of three hundred thousand men, combined with 
 the voices of nine thousand priests in that very 
 kingdom of Piedmont, under the rule of the ancient 
 Duchy of Savoy, to recall the faithfal to the very 
 valleys of the Alps, they must acknowledge that the 
 finger of God was in it : — 
 
 " * Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones 
 Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold !' " 
 
 In order to give the reader some insight into the 
 history of the time, the author subjoins the headings 
 of the chapters of Dr. Muston's "Israel of the Alps,'* 
 which refer to that period. (The most perfect list of 
 books and manuscripts referring to this and other 
 portions of the history of the Waldenses will be 
 found at the end of Dr. Muston's second volume.) 
 
 Chapter VI. — The Propaganda (a.d. 1637 to a.d. 
 1655). — Charles Emmanuel II. of Savoy. — The 
 Duchess Christina of France. — Disputes as to the 
 Regency. — The Propaganda instituted. — Rorengo. —
 
 XXll PREFACE. 
 
 Placido Corso. — Public Discussions. — Crimes and 
 Cruelties. — Terrible Conflagrations. — Civil War. — 
 The Vaudois support the Duchess Christina. — Pro- 
 testant Worship prohibited at St. John. — Other 
 severe Edicts. — Women in the Propaganda. — The 
 Marchioness of Pianesse. — Her Dying Charge to 
 her Husband. — The Residences of the Monks burned 
 at various Places in the Valleys. — False Charge 
 brought against a Vaudois Pastor of having insti- 
 gated the Assassination of a Priest. 
 
 Chapter VH. — The Piedmontese Easter, or the 
 Massacres op 1655 (Saturday the 24th of April 
 being Easter- Eve). — Proceedings of the Society de 
 Propaganda Fide. — Gastaldo, the Duke's Lieutenant 
 in the Valleys. — Severe Measures. — Prolonged and 
 Fruitless Negotiations. — The Marquis of Pianesse. — ■ 
 His Deceitfulness. — He puts himself at the Head of 
 Troops for the Extermination of the Vaudois. — Inde« 
 cision of the Vaudois, who are in part deceived by 
 False Pretences. — Janavel. — The Vaudois resist the 
 Marquis of Pianesse at La Tour, but are defeated. — 
 Further Combats. — Further Treachery of Pianesse. — 
 Massacre on the Day before Easter. — Fearful 
 Atrocities. — M. du Petitbourg refuses to conduct 
 his Troops upon Occasion of this Massacre. — His 
 subsequent Exposure of its Enormities. 
 
 Chapter Vni. — Janavel and Jahier (April to June
 
 PREFACE. Sxiii 
 
 1655). — The Fugitive Vandois find an Asylum in the 
 French Dominions. — Janavel, with a Small Band, 
 obtains Wonderful Victories over the Troop of 
 Pianesse. — Pianesse has recourse again to the Arts 
 of Treachery. — He ravages Rora, but is attacked 
 and defeated by Janavel as he retires with his 
 Booty. — Pianesse marches against Bora with almost 
 Ten Thousand Men. — Janavel's Wife and Daughter 
 made Prisoners. — His Constant Resolutions. — The 
 Duchess of Savoy and the French Court. — Mazarin 
 refuses to take Part against the Vaudois as she 
 desires. — Cromwell offers them a Refuge in Ireland.— 
 Intercession of Foreign Powers. — Collections made 
 for the Vaudois in Protestant Countries. — The Vau- 
 dois continue in Arms. — Another Vaudois Troop 
 takes the Field under Jahier. — Janavel makes an 
 attempt to seize Lucemette, but fails. — Jahier and 
 he effects a Junction. — They seize St. Segont. — 
 Further Successes. — Janavel is severely wounded. — 
 Jahier is killed. 
 
 Chapter IX. — Exd of the Conflict, Negotiations 
 AND Patents of Grace (June to September 1655). — 
 Foreigners come to the Assistance of the Vaudois. — 
 Further Successes of their Arms. — They fail in an 
 Attempt, conducted by the French General Descom- 
 bies to take the Fort of La Tour. — Intervention of 
 Cromwell. — His Ambassador Morland at Turin. — 
 Treaty of Pignerol.
 
 XXIV PREFACE. 
 
 In conclusion, we joyfully acknowledge that a 
 brighter day has of late dawned on Italy. The 
 Vaudois have had their various civil disqualifications 
 removed since 1848 ; they are now free Italians, 
 having colleges at Florence and La Tour, and 
 Churches and Evangelists in many parts of the 
 Peninsula. May they become the Missionary Church 
 of Italy ! King Victor Emmanuel, by his enlightened 
 policy, inherits their warmest loyalty, which even 
 the persecutions of many of his ancestors failed to 
 quench. Need we add that this liberty has been ob- 
 tained by Romanists, not through, but in spite of 
 the Church of Rome, which is the last nucleus of 
 intolerance, despotism, and brigandism in this regene- 
 rated land. 
 
 Should any of his readers feel inclined to transmit 
 their offerings in aid of this ancient yet struggling 
 Church, the author vrill pledge himself for their due 
 transmission. Commending his work to the blessing 
 of the great Head of the Church, whose glory he 
 would advance, the author concludes by wishing 
 his readers the same pleasure and profit in the perusal 
 of the following pages as he has had in his researches 
 for their composition. 
 
 Latchmoor, Gerrard's Cross, 
 January J 1864.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTBR Pi.GB 
 
 I. THE PALACE 1 
 
 II. THE WALDENSIAN SISTEES .... 19 
 
 III. NEW YEAE'S MOENING 31 
 
 IV. THE SIXTH SISTEE 45 
 
 V. BATNALD 54 
 
 TI. THE TEMPLE 65 
 
 VII. NEW teab's evening 80 
 
 Vni. THE pemale peopaganda .... 94 
 
 IX. THE MABCHI0NES3 109 
 
 X. lOLANDE 117 
 
 XI. THE DEATH-BED 123 
 
 XII. THE BAEBA 137 
 
 XIII. THE EVENING MEAL 154 
 
 XIV. THE BILLET 166 
 
 XV. " COSE DI BOMA" ....'. 175 
 
 XTI. THE PELICB 185 
 
 XVII. THE PLAGUE . 200 
 
 XVIII. THE EDICT 213 
 
 XIX. THE EDICT DISCUSSED . ' . . . 228 
 
 XX. MOTHEB AND DAUGHTER 239 
 
 XXI. THE FIRST COMMUNION 249 
 
 XXII. THE LAST TIME 258 
 
 XXIII. GASTALDO . . , 274
 
 ^"""l CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTEE PAGE 
 
 XXIV. THE EXODUS 288 
 
 XXV. THE MISSIONAEIES OF THE VATICAN . . . 297 
 
 XXVI. THE lEISH SOLDIEE 316 
 
 XXVII. DAGOT 326 
 
 XXVIII. THE EESCUE 335 
 
 XXIX. THE CHAMBEE OP DEATH 345 
 
 XXX. THE STETJGGLE 351 
 
 XXXI. THE ABSOLrTION 359 
 
 XXXII. lA BAUDENE 370 
 
 XXXIII. MIDNIGHT 380 
 
 XXXIV. THE BUEIATi 387 
 
 APPENDIX 393
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Fbontispiece. — The Alps feom La BArcENE 
 
 No. 2. — Eome's Apostle . to face page 77 
 
 No. 3. — The Dying Bequest to face page 128 
 
 No. 4.— The Announcement of Gastaldo's 
 
 Edict ... to face page 220 
 
 No. 5. — The Eescue . . to face page 344'
 
 MAP OF THE WALDEXSIAN VALLEYS.
 
 " Those who gave early notice, as the lark 
 Springs from the ground the morn to gratulate, 
 Who rather chose the day to antedate 
 By striking out a solitary spark, 
 When all the world with midnight gloom was dark; 
 These harbingers of good, whom bitter hate 
 In vain endeavour'd to exterminate, 
 Fell obloquy pursues with hideous bark ; 
 But they desist not ; and the sacred fire, 
 Rekindled thus, from dens and savage woods 
 Moves, handed on with never-ceasing care. 
 Through courts, through camps, o'er limitary 
 
 floods ; 
 Nor lacks this sea-girt isle a timely share 
 Of the new flame, nor sufier'd to expire." 
 
 Wordsworth.
 
 VOL. I. 
 THE VALLEYS,
 
 AD LECTOREM. 
 
 The reader is particularly requested to peruse atten- 
 tively the Preface and the Appendix at the end of 
 each Volume, and if curiously-minded to verify the 
 quotations, by reference to the originals. 
 
 ISr.B. — The Vaudois and Waldenses are synony- 
 mous terms ; they are Italians, inhabiting the Alpine 
 valleys of Piedmont, and must not be confounded 
 with the Swiss of the Pays de Vaud, in Switzerland.
 
 THE 
 
 SIX SISTEES or THE VALLEYS. 
 
 CHAPTEH I. 
 
 THE PALACE. 
 
 Anxo Doaiini 1655. It is tlie first of Jan- 
 uaiy, a day, breathing with the mystic 
 eloquence of time, fraught with the memo- 
 ries of the past, the enjoyment of the pre- 
 sent, and the chequered hopes and fears of 
 the undeciphered future. 
 
 The lonely peasant on yon mountain 
 range has watched Avith untutored eager- 
 ness for the early sunrise, and when at 
 length the sudden ghtter of a distant point 
 across the dreary plain assures him that 
 another year has really dawned, his heart 
 partakes the common impulse of joy that 
 thrills the human race. 
 
 YOL. I. B
 
 2 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 The glow of tlie southern sun waxes 
 brighter, and the outHne of a colossal 
 cupola, surmounted by that glittering point, 
 becomes more distinct. It overlooks a city 
 in which past and present mingle in strange 
 contrast, and whose discordant buildings 
 embody the collisions of rival ages. 
 
 Here stands the gorgeous church, re- 
 dolent with incense ; there the roofless 
 temple, with its orphan columns, and its 
 voiceless shrine : on one side of a street rises 
 the marble palace, adorned with modern 
 heraldry ; while on the other lies a broken 
 frieze, its fragments strewn along the path- 
 way : on this spot stands a gallery of 
 art, opposite to which a Corinthian capital 
 juts from the ground, or is embedded in 
 modern brickwork : at this point the 
 thronged bridge spans the tawny river, 
 while close by, the dismantled arch of 
 victory, ravaged by centuries, protests, in 
 its silent decay, against man's fancied im- 
 mortality on earth.
 
 THE PALACE. 3 
 
 From these broken shrines Wisdom 
 utters her parable. 
 
 The iip-heaved stones which kmgs once 
 reared, the rifled sepulchres of the name- 
 less dead, warn the thoughtless crowd who 
 trample upon their fathers' ashes, that they 
 too will soon be consigned to the remorseless 
 grave, themselves trackless and forgotten. 
 
 It was still early in the morning, when 
 an aged and decrepid man stepped into one 
 of the balconies of a large, irregular pile of 
 building, which stood in the outskirts of 
 the city. His dim eye was brightened for a 
 moment, as he felt his flagging energies 
 re^^ved by the elastic morning air. From 
 his peculiar style of dress, he appeared to 
 be a person of ecclesiastical rank ; he was 
 clothed in a white woollen robe, upon wliicli 
 was embroidered a large cross, partially 
 concealed by the overhanging cape; his 
 grey locks straggled from under a small 
 white cap closely fitting the cro^m of his 
 head, and his wrinkled face bore evident
 
 4 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 traces of care and mental conflict, despite 
 an expression of sensuality and indolence. 
 Gazing into tlie lieavens with a look of 
 vacancy, he watched the fragments of fleecy 
 clouds floating athwart the otherwise un- 
 broken azure ; then, recalled by the morn- 
 ing chimes of the neighbouring churches, 
 he turned his eye upon the city spread out 
 before him, vainly hoping that earth might 
 difiuse that peace which heaven seemed to 
 have denied. 
 
 The scene was one which might cause 
 the most thoughtless to reflect, for of all 
 the cities of the earth none has exercised a 
 greater influence on the political or religious 
 destinies of the human race than this, the 
 imperial city of Eomie. That feeble man 
 was its sovereign, and well might he pause 
 as he beheld the centre of his spiritual and 
 temporal power. His eye catches a glimpse 
 of the classic river winding along, banked 
 by structures, ancient and modern, dimly 
 outlined in the dusky wave. Conspicuous
 
 THE PALACE. 5 
 
 in tlie foreground stands a round castellated 
 building, at once a fortress, a prison, and a 
 tomb ; to the riglit rises a dome, open to the 
 smishine and rain of heaven ; while farther 
 yet is another relic of antiquity, a large 
 circular fragment towering aloft, pierced 
 with tiers of arches, through w^hich the 
 distant landscape can be dimly traced. 
 
 On the blank plains beyond are lines of 
 arched masonry converging to the city, 
 now an unbroken length, now rent in 
 twain, standing on the desert in solemn 
 silence, steeped with the history of a past 
 race who brought from the mountain glen, 
 into the city's midst, the priceless stream. 
 In the distance arise the shadowy moun- 
 tains, forming a contrast with their purple 
 bases and silvery summits to the dark 
 blue sky, and varying in their thousand 
 tints as they are mellowed by the cloud- 
 less or clouded sun. 
 
 The old man surveyed the scene, 
 closing his eyes from time to time as if to
 
 6 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 follow tlie current of liis troubled thoughts . 
 This was Pope Innocent X. His withered 
 hand, upon which shone a magnificent 
 ring, grasped a parchment covered with 
 black letters and illuminated capitals, and 
 bearing a small seal of lead stamped on 
 one side with the heads of Peter and Paul, 
 and on the other, with the words " Inno- 
 cent yill. Pont. Max. An. III." This 
 ancient record was the famous Bull of 
 1487, issued for the extirpation of heresy, 
 more especially that phase which clung so 
 tenaciously to the fastnesses of the Alps, 
 and the plains of Languedoc, Dauphiny, 
 and Provence. The fulminations of that 
 parchment had produced a baneful effect 
 on superstitious Europe. Thousands, 
 whose sins were as scarlet, joined the 
 crusade in hope of expiating their crimes, 
 and securing an indisputable right to the 
 kingdom of God, by shedding innocent 
 blood. 
 
 Eight hundred thousand Protestants,
 
 THE TALACE. 7 
 
 it is recorded, perislied in different parts 
 of Europe. 
 
 Nearl}^ two centuries liad rolled over 
 since tliat time, and tliougfli the orisfina- 
 tors of tliat bloody drama had passed 
 away, tlieir principles unhappily survived. 
 
 A cloud had arisen once more in the 
 horizon, and the year 1655 opened 
 gloomily for the primitive churches in the 
 valleys of the Alps. 
 
 After glancing at the document, Inno- 
 cent retired into his chamber, and seating 
 himself began to read : — 
 
 ^' Lmocentius Episcojms, servus servo- 
 rum Dei, dilecto Fllio, Alberto cle Cain- 
 taneis.^^ 
 
 The old man paused as he uttered his 
 predecessor's name. Breathing heavily he 
 continued ; — 
 
 " Non sine disjolicentid grandl jpervenit 
 auditumque quod nonnulli iniquitatis filii, 
 incolce Frovincue Ehredumensis, sectatores 
 illius jperniciosissimce et ahominabilis sectx
 
 8 THE SIX SISTERS OE THE VALLEYS. 
 
 hominum malignoTum,Faui3eTum de Lugdimo 
 seu Valdensium, nuncujmtorum, quae dAulum 
 in ^artihus Fedeinontanis,'" 
 
 The Pontiff's feeble voice gradually 
 became more indistinct, and lie dozed off 
 into a broken sleep. 
 
 After some time several acolytes entered 
 tlie room, and having awakened his Holi- 
 ness, conducted him to the Sala Eegia, 
 where upon New Year's-day he was accus- 
 tomed to give audience to the ambassadors 
 of foreign courts. The hall was spacious, 
 and gorgeously decorated with stucco orna- 
 ments and frescoes. One group represented 
 Gregory YII. giving absolution to the Em- 
 peror Henry lY. ; another, Frederick Barba- 
 rossa, receiving the blessing of Alexander 
 III. On the eastern side Yasari's master- 
 piece attracted a crowd of admirers. The 
 painter might well illustrate the subject, 
 for it had caused the bells of St. Peter to 
 ring, the cannon of St. Angelo to thunder, 
 bonfires to blaze in the streets of Rome,
 
 THE PALACE. 9 
 
 and the founders at tlie mint to strike a 
 new medal. Let us approach the picture. 
 It portrays not the struggle of battle, 
 and yet those ghastly forms bespeak the 
 riot of death. The sword is raised aloft 
 dripping with blood ; the young man is 
 hewn down and breathes his last, clasping 
 the body of his aged father; the loving 
 and fragile beauty is murdered within 
 sight of her husband's corpse ; and the 
 tender babe is dashed against the stones. 
 Fmy goads the pursuers ; the agony of death 
 thrills the victim. This is Kome's offer- 
 ing of a sweet- smelling savour to a God of 
 love, who came on earth not to destroy 
 men's lives, but to save them. 
 
 Behold this work of art on the walls of 
 the Vatican, accredited in the palace of 
 Christ's so-called Yicar on earth, lingering 
 to this day to testify of the past. It repre- 
 sents the massacre of St. Bartholomew, — 
 alas ! only one item out of the roll of 
 massacres due to parchments sealed with
 
 10 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 tlie fisherman's seal. It is tlie micoiiscious 
 epitaph of sixty thousand Protestants who 
 perished in France alone. On receiving the 
 details, Gregory XIII. cried out aloud, 
 " Good news 1 Good news !" St. Peter's 
 rang with the hymn of St. Ambrose, '^ Te 
 Beum Laudamus.^' A medal was struck 
 with the inscription, " Ugonotorum Strages, 
 1572," and the invention of art was en- 
 listed that the damnable crime might be 
 graven on the Church's brow. 
 
 At the upper end of the hall was a 
 richly decorated throne, on the back of which 
 two keys crossed, surmounted by a triple 
 crown, were embroidered in gold. A file of 
 the noble guard was ranged on either side 
 of the hall, who presented their swords and 
 fell on bended knee as the sovereign PontijQT 
 passed them. Having ascended the throne 
 he bent his head, and after a pause said 
 aloud, in a peculiar cadence, '' Dominus 
 vohiscum,^' and stretching out two fingers 
 of his right hand, made a motion, at which
 
 THE PALACE. 11 
 
 the beholders fell on tlieir knees and 
 crossed themselves. In the centre of the 
 hall the ambassadors of most of the courts 
 of Em^ope were grouped with ecclesiastics 
 of yarious orders. France, Spam, Portugal, 
 Austria, Naples, and minor duchies are 
 represented. In the front stands a subtle, 
 black- eyed man, whose outward garb be- 
 tokens no rank. He is general of the 
 order of Jesuits. Xear him an older man 
 wears the robe of the Dominican. Fran- 
 ciscans and hooded Capuchins intermingle 
 with Carmelites, Benedictines, and Cister- 
 cians, while contrastmg with the sombre 
 garb of the ecclesiastics appear the varied 
 uniforms of generals and ofl&cers, many of 
 whose breasts glitter with orders and 
 stars. Cardinals, with red hats and 
 purple mantles, are grouped in knots 
 earnestly discussing the health of Inno- 
 cent, and the probable vacancy of St. 
 Peter's chair. One by one the audience 
 approach the sovereign Pontiff ; some
 
 12 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLETS. 
 
 salute liis hand, otliers liis knee, wliile 
 tliose of inferior grade kneel and touch 
 with their lips his embroidered slipper. 
 
 After several had been presented, a 
 young officer entered, wearing the uniform 
 of the Duke of Savoy. An ingenuous ex- 
 pression lit up his flashing eye and regular 
 features, which contrasted favom^ably with 
 the cunning selfishness visible in the 
 countenances of many of those around. 
 He paused before the Holy Father's 
 throne, and bent his knee : — 
 
 "Son," said the old man, ''tell our 
 beloved Charles Emmanuel and his mother 
 Christina that we commend their works of 
 love, and send them and all who labour with 
 them our Apostolic blessing. We thank 
 God," said he, as his voice trembled through 
 weakness, ''that the jubilee of 1650 has 
 brought forth such good iruit in the 
 establishment of the Holy Office at Turin. 
 We have studied the Bull of our predeces- 
 sor. Innocent YIII. (whose soul God rest in
 
 THE PALACE. 13 
 
 peace), in wliich lie urges the Christian 
 world to the extermination of heresy. We 
 approve of the measures our beloved daugh- 
 ter of Savoy intends taking for the uproot- 
 ing of those ancient rebels in the valleys of 
 the Alps. Bid her purify her kingdom and 
 win an eternal crown ; let the sword sup- 
 port the cross, and the cross will hallow 
 the sword. Look, young man, at that pic- 
 ture ; stamp it on your memory for ever ; it 
 is the triumph of the Church over her apos- 
 tate children, whom she would convert 
 even by the sword. Would that all our 
 sons would follow this bright example, and 
 emulate the zeal of the eldest son of the 
 Church ! Our age would not then be so 
 barren in works of faith and labours of love. 
 Accept this sword, whose blade is of our 
 best Ferrara steel, and upon whose jew- 
 elled handle our pontifical arms are wrouo-ht. 
 May it recal to you the scenes of the Eternal 
 City ; may it prove trusty in the hour of 
 danger ; and remind you of your allegiance
 
 14 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 to our Most Holy See. Fear not to use it 
 at tlie Churcli's bidding for the conversion 
 of heretics. Take these presents to the Duke 
 andRegent ; assure them of our fatherlypray- 
 ers, and convey our Apostohc benediction.'' 
 
 The officer arose, and, bowing three 
 times, retreated backwards from the pre- 
 sence of Innocent. After a few other audi- 
 ences the Holy Father was carried to his 
 private room, traversing a long corridor 
 lined with the choicest efforts of ancient 
 art, and draped with the tapestries of 
 Eaphael. Little cared he then for these 
 monuments of the past ; his strength was 
 ebbing, and his mind jaded, for all this out- 
 ward pomp veiled a conscience ill at ease 
 with itself and with God. 
 
 Later in the day he passed through the 
 same hall, into the adjoining apartments. 
 The throne of state, the golden crucifix 
 on the altar, the exquisite candelabra, 
 the work of Cellini, the carved stalls of 
 the choir, indicated that it was the
 
 THE PALACE. 15 
 
 Sistine cliapel. Tlie walls were covered 
 mtli frescoes, wliile in tlie panels between 
 tlie windows Avere portraits of various 
 popes ; on tlie ceiling was the master- 
 piece of Micliael Angelo, " The Last Judg- 
 ment," the execution of which had occu- 
 pied the great artist for a period of eight 
 years. The aged pontiff seemed to be 
 labouring under the most agonizing feel- 
 ings ; he cast himself on his face before 
 the high altar, where he remained motion- 
 less for some minutes; rismg, he moved 
 about with trembling step ; now he seated 
 himself on that throne on which he had 
 sat not many days before on the festival 
 of the Nativity ; anon he wandered among 
 the stalls of the choir, and coming back 
 T^dthin the rails, knelt on the steps of the 
 altar ; but he found no rest. 
 
 ''What!" he cried aloud, as he gazed 
 aloft at the solemn frescoes which he could 
 just discern in the declining day, " Is there 
 no peace of conscience for me ? Can I
 
 16 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 dispense pardon and salvation to thousands, 
 and yet not minister to my own diseased 
 mind ? Why is this retrospect of my past 
 life forced upon me ? Why is my conscience 
 like a hell within my breast ? Accursed 
 Olympia ! would that I had never known 
 thee ! I have sinned like Herod ; ah ! 
 worse than Herod, and now my broken 
 vows, and the stings of past crime, are 
 crushing my very soul." 
 
 " God 1" he exclaimed, after a pause, 
 as he shook his grey hairs, and trampled 
 under foot his white cap, '' I have read of 
 the agonies of conscience, but now I feel 
 them." 
 
 The wretched man fell down upon the 
 steps ; he stretched out his hands as if 
 convulsively grasping at something, v/hile 
 the broken words fell from him — 
 
 '' Have mercy on me ! — Avaunt, Olym- 
 pia ! Jansenius — did I condemn him ? — 
 In how many points — five, — five ? — Do 
 they say that I am infallible m matters
 
 THE PALACE. 17 
 
 of doctrine and not in matters of fact ? 
 — ^Thj ^11 the Jesuits assail me ? — 
 AYliat I will tliey figlit the Jansenists ? — 
 AYho am I — a Pamfili ? — Avaunt, Olympia ! 
 Mal-dachini. — My brother's widow ; I hate 
 thee now. — How many bishopricks hast 
 thou given away ? — Avaunt, I say ! — Have 
 mercy on me ! — Kyrie Eleison. Maria, lie- 
 gina Angelorum.'' — 
 
 For some time his eyes remained fixed, 
 as if gazing into vacancy ; then a paroxysm 
 of grief seemed to give relief, and his 
 scalding - tears fell on the marble steps. 
 Again the solemn silence was broken by 
 loud cries — '' Sanda Maria — Janua Cceli — 
 have mercy on me." 
 
 His strength then ebbmg, he rolled off 
 the steps, and lay prostrate on the pave- 
 ment, gasping for breath — a sad spectacle of 
 the frailty and wickedness of human nature, 
 and more revolting when we discern in this 
 conscience-stricken culprit him. who falsely 
 claimed the power of the keys. 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 A few days after this, Innocent took to 
 Ills bed, and on tlie seventh of the same 
 month sank under the load of care and old 
 age. So selfish were his relations, whom 
 he had enriched out of the coffers of the 
 church, that none were willing to pay his 
 funeral expenses. For three days the 
 wretched corpse lay neglected in the palace 
 of the church, without the ordinary de- 
 cencies of Christian mourning, until a 
 canon, who had been once in the papal 
 service, expended a small sum, and caused 
 the last honours to be rendered to his late 
 master.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE WALDEXSIAN SISTEES. 
 
 OuE scene is changed from central to 
 nortliern Italy. We are in tlie Cottian 
 Alps, a section of tlie mighty vertebras of 
 Europe, situated about thirty miles west of 
 Turin, and about seventy south of Mont 
 Blanc. Among these mountains lie hidden 
 the three world-renowned valleys of Lu- 
 cerna, St. Martin, and Perouse, the immemo- 
 rial sanctuaries of the Waldensian Chm^ch. 
 At the foot of the giant spur which 
 forms one side of the valley of Lucerna, 
 and trends upwards, until it terminates in 
 Monte Yiso, was the farm of La Baudene. 
 Its arrangement was quadrangular, one
 
 20 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 still common in tlie north of Italy. Two 
 sides of the square were composed of 
 the dwelling-rooms of the family, divided 
 into two stories, round the upper of which 
 ran a wooden gallery, looking into the court- 
 3^ard. The third side consisted of a row of 
 out-buildings, roughly covered with flags 
 of mica- schist, supported by arched pillars, 
 behind which various implements of house- 
 hold and agricultural use were mingled with 
 stacks of firewood, casks, churns, and carts, 
 among which the young children were Avont 
 to amuse themselves by chasing each other. 
 On the fourth side was a large gateway open- 
 ing on to the lane, leading to the main road 
 from La Tour to Pignerol. The approach 
 was covered with a wooden trellis work, 
 which was now bare, but in summer it 
 formed a delightful rustic avenue, when the 
 festooned vines, shaded by the chestnuts 
 and walnuts, tempered the heat of the 
 Italian sun, and with their hanging clusters 
 suggested the idea of peace and plenty.
 
 THE WALDENSIAN SISTEES. 21 
 
 Under this one roof dwelt tlie family of 
 Prins. It consisted of six brothers, who, 
 having married six sisters, had, notwith- 
 standing their respective marriages, con- 
 tinued to live toc^ether without di\dsion of 
 property, and without discord. In this 
 sino'ular union of two families, the eldest 
 brother of the one had married the eldest 
 sister of the other, and they were recog- 
 nized as the common father and mother of 
 the little colony, while the other members 
 of the household had their allotted spheres 
 of labour among the cattle, in the meadows, 
 or in the vmeyards. 
 
 Those relations so common in the pages 
 of fiction, so rare in actual life, were realized 
 in this extraordinary and patriarchal family. 
 The threat of separation was never heard 
 among them, each successive marriage hav- 
 ing, contrary to proverbial experience, served 
 only to widen an unbroken circle of affec- 
 tion and common interest. The household, 
 including the children, numbered upwards
 
 22 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 of forty persons ; forming, in tliat tliinly 
 inliabitecl country, a community in itself. 
 
 Eodolplie, tlie aged father of tlie sisters, 
 was still alive. He was held in the greatest 
 respect throughout the valleys, having been 
 formerly, for many years, pastor at La Tour, 
 and Moderator of the Waldensian churches. 
 Janavel, the eldest brother, was a good spe- 
 cimen of the dauntless mountaineer. Eeared 
 under the shadow of the eternal Alps, he pos- 
 sessed those high qualities which are found 
 only among the uncorrupted sons of nature. 
 The most childlike simplicity was blended 
 in his eagle eye, with that piercing glance 
 which reads the secret motives of an ad- 
 versary's heart. Reliant upon God, and 
 referring with unquestioning submission to 
 his Word and will, there was no danger 
 which he dared not challenge in the path of 
 duty, supported more by his unwavering 
 faith, than by the promptings of his natural 
 courage. The general superintendence of 
 the farm, with the special management of
 
 THE WALDEXSIAX SISTERS. 23 
 
 tlie vineyards, Tvas assigned to him, in con- 
 junction with liis son Eaynald. His ^fe 
 Martha, the eldest of the sisters, was re- 
 markable for her expression of settled 
 melancholy, which could not fail to strike 
 the most unobservant. The garb of mourn- 
 ing which she habitually wore offered a 
 strange contrast to her pallid cheek, and 
 her countenance was shaded by a pensive- 
 ness evidently due to heartfelt sorrow. 
 Her husband treated her grief with respect 
 and tenderness, never interfering with its 
 manifestation, nor chidins^ her for its Ions: 
 continuance, knowing that it had become a 
 second nature and a mournful pleasure. 
 
 Martha was accustomed to preside at 
 the common table. At her right hand was 
 placed an empty chair, towards which the 
 mother cast occasional glances, and which 
 even the little Claude never presumed to 
 occupy. Daily at sunset she retired to her 
 chamber for prayer, and when she re- 
 joined her sisters her dark eyes bore
 
 21 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 traces of grief, and her cheeks the stain of 
 tepa^s. 
 
 At a certain season the clond npon her 
 brovf grew darker. Martha then chjng 
 with the increased intensity of a mother's 
 love to her son Eaynald, in whose sympathy 
 she confided, and to whose prayers she 
 hstened, until peace was restored to her 
 mind, and the temptation to arraign the 
 dispensations of God subdued within her 
 sorrowing soul. 
 
 Raynald was in his twenty- sixth year. 
 In physical appearance he was of Herculean 
 mould. Tall, but well proportioned, he ex- 
 celled in feats of personal daring, and was 
 the acknowledged champion in all athletic 
 exercises of strength and courage. But 
 though nature had been lavish of her out- 
 ward gifts, she had not, in his case, made 
 them the substitute for those higher quali- 
 ties of the mind, intelligence and delicacy 
 of feeling. He was impulsive in temper, 
 but affectionate in heart, and partaking the
 
 THE WALDEXSIAX SISTERS. 23 
 
 natural simplicity of liis father's cliaracter, 
 was tender and tliouglitful in liis attentions 
 to liis mother and aunts. Having been 
 for some time impressed with personal 
 religion he contemplated becoming a pastor, 
 a prospect which afforded partial consola- 
 tion to his mother in her settled grief. 
 
 David and Lucille were the second 
 couple of this singular family. Martha 
 had resigned the household menage as irk- 
 some in her state of mind, and the light- 
 hearted Lucille falfilled its duties to the 
 satisfaction of all. Thoughtful of others, 
 thoughtless of herself, Lucille cared not 
 what labour she undertook for the benefit 
 of her friends. Her matronly face was 
 brightened with a smile when she met the 
 younger children in the court, and she 
 would rarely pass them without slipping a 
 chestnut or some other acceptable trifle into 
 their hands. 
 
 The management of the flocks was con- 
 fided to Marguerite and Madeleine, who
 
 26 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 were seldom apart, save wlien tlieir own 
 families required the mother's care. Theirs 
 was the love of sisters, a love like that of 
 the mother, the admiration of every age for 
 its guileless purity, lingering in the heart 
 as a faint memory of Eden. Though they 
 were twins they did not resemble each 
 other in person nor character. Marguerite 
 had raven hair, a dark, flashing eye, lips 
 which could express scorn when her lofty 
 spirit brought a cloud over her Grecian 
 features. The severe intellectual was her 
 delight, and as in early life she had received 
 instruction in the dead languages from her 
 father, she was well qualified to be the com- 
 panion of her husband Jean, whose timid 
 and studious disposition led him to shun 
 the whirl of daily life. 
 
 Madeleine was the reverse of her sister. 
 Apt to rely upon Marguerite from her 
 youth, she possessed the clinging qualities 
 of the ivy rather than the self-sustaining 
 power of the oak. She was in heart what
 
 THE W.VLDEXSIAN SISTERS. 27 
 
 Marguerite was in head, and tlie nnion of 
 tlie two wonld have formed a perfect cha- 
 racter. Even after lier marriag^e Madeleine 
 clung- to Maro^uerite ^4tli undiminislied 
 fervour, and having lately become a widow, 
 the life-Ion o; devotion had assumed that 
 sanctity which can be felt only by a deso- 
 late heart, merging itself into one absorbing 
 object for sympathy and consolation. 
 
 Every evening she repaired to her 
 sister's room to hear the experiences of the 
 day, and to enjoy that bright fellowship of 
 feeling which is the privilege of earth and 
 the birthrio;ht of heaven. 
 
 The husband of Eenee was Daniel, to 
 whom the care of the meadows and the 
 tillage of the fields were allotted. 
 
 Marie was the sixth sister, but as we 
 shall revert more particularly to her, we 
 shall take her daughter, Ardome, as her 
 representative in the family group. 
 
 Ardoine was about two and twenty, 
 ha\dng been born shortly before the com-
 
 28 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 mencement of her motlier's illness. Slie 
 was of a northern rather than a southern 
 type. She had not the black hair, the dark 
 eje, the sunburnt tint of the Italian ; her 
 complexion was fair, her hair of a golden 
 hue, her long tresses knotted behind with 
 the carelessness of innocence, and of un- 
 conscious beauty. Although her features 
 might not be called regular, there was 
 something in the sweetness of her expres- 
 sion which more than atoned for any devia- 
 tion from the strict lines of beauty. Her 
 eye shone not so much with the fire of in- 
 telligence as with the soft subduing power 
 of goodness. It yvsl^ the eye of a woman, 
 and woman is the gem of nature, and 
 the eye the gem of woman. Who knows 
 not the magic power of the chasing phases 
 of the eye — that speck on which the Al- 
 mighty hath emblazoned his triple attributes 
 of wisdom, power, and goodness ; that 
 point, on which a landscape is engraven 
 from without, or the subtle spirit imaged
 
 THE WALDENSIAN SISTERS. 29 
 
 from ^yitliin ? Her eyes were the inter- 
 preters of lier soul ; they spake of tender- 
 ness and love, the twm instincts of the 
 true woman's heart. They were generally 
 radiant mth unselfish joy, but soon became 
 shaded with the film of sorrow when a 
 sister's grief demanded a sympathetic 
 tear. They were such as are seen but 
 once in a lifetime, and when seen are 
 never fors^otten, touchino- as tliev do the 
 inner springs of life, a feat wrought only 
 by the eloquence of nature. What wonder 
 then that they made an impression on 
 Eaynald, and caused his impulsive heart to 
 tremble when their eyes unconsciously met 1 
 
 Ardoine had lona: been under relisfious 
 convictions. Impressed with the truths she 
 had learned from her grandfather, she en- 
 deavoured to consecrate her most trivial 
 act by the sublimity of Christian motive, 
 the glory of God. 
 
 When any one happened to express a 
 wish, Ardoine noted it ; the little kind-
 
 30 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 ness was done in silence, and tlie aunt 
 or cousin would gratefully find the deed of 
 love rendered by an unknown hand. From 
 the time when, as a child, she played under 
 the village chestnut, her name had been a 
 household word in the valley of Lucerna, 
 and in the chalets of Angrogna the young 
 shepherds sang tributes to her worth. 
 
 Such, with the addition of the various 
 groups of children of every age, was the 
 family of Prins at the period when our 
 narrative commences, the first day of 
 January, 1655.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 NEW YEAE S MOENIXG. 
 
 Ix a large vaulted room, wliose sides were 
 covered "witli vrainscotinof, were oratliered a 
 band of cliildren, eleven or twelve in num- 
 ber, ranging from four to ten years of age. 
 Their sparkling ejes and joyous smiles 
 bespoke the buoyancy of innocence and 
 health. A little boy, the centre of the 
 group, was taking upon himself the ofl&ce 
 of marshalling the band. His light hair 
 and ruddy cheeks contrasted pleasantly with 
 the dark eyes and darker complexions of 
 many of his cousins. 
 
 ''Come, Susanne," said the lad, ''this 
 is New Year's Day ; now are we all ready ?
 
 32 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 We must go to grandfatlier first, and wisli 
 liim a happy new year. I liope we all 
 know oiu" texts perfectly, so tliat lie may 
 give "LIS one of his kind smiles when he hears 
 ns repeat them without missing a word." 
 
 " Etienne," replied Susanne, her eyes 
 brightening as she spoke, '' I think I know 
 mine ; I repeated it over six times to my- 
 self in bed last night." 
 
 " And I am sure I ought to know mine," 
 said little Lena, " for cousin Ardoine took 
 me on Ijer knee yesterday, and said it over 
 to me such a number of times, and I re- 
 peated it word for word after her till I could 
 say it alone." 
 
 "And do you remember your speech of 
 good wishes to your good grandpapa, my 
 little Ahne ?" 
 
 " Yes, cossy Ardy told me to say. May 
 the sun shine on your grey hair all the year, 
 grandpa." 
 
 ''And you, cousin Andre, what have 
 you got to repeat ?"
 
 NEW YEAe's MOENIXG. 33 
 
 "Ardoine has given me a verse. She 
 said it was made up of short words, and 
 was very beautiful. ' The Son of Man is 
 come to seek and to save that which was 
 lost.' But I wanted to learn more, and 
 have another. ' God is love. We love him 
 because he first loved us.' " 
 
 '' And here is my brother Claude. Has 
 our good, kind sister taught him anything ?" 
 
 " ' God bless papa. Praise God.' " 
 
 ''Very well," said the little marshal; 
 '' now join hands two and two, and w^hen 
 you come into grandfather's room, make 
 your bows, and say your speeches one after 
 the other." 
 
 The children arranged themselves in 
 pairs. Etienne surveyed the group, and 
 being satisfied with his inspection, put him- 
 self at its head. Having knocked at his 
 grandfather's door, he opened it and 
 ushered in his band with all due form. 
 
 Here sat the aged patriarch in his 
 arm-chair, his snow-white hair streaming 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 over his slioulders, liis mild and clear 
 ejes beaming with an expression of bene- 
 volence. On the table lay his open Bible, 
 the guide of his youth, the solace of his 
 declining years, and of whose glorious 
 truths he had been for so many years a 
 fervid preacher. His eye glistened when 
 he beheld the loved procession enter. Some 
 of the fathers and mothers gathered round 
 his chair, looking on with smiles mingled 
 with tears, while Ardoine standing in the 
 background, peeped, from time to time, 
 over her grandfather's shoulder, at the little 
 company, and anxiously listened how they 
 would acquit themselves. 
 
 Up toddled the first pair, and made 
 their bow. Susanne, standing on the 
 right, was the first to speak. 
 
 " ' Well done, good servant ; enter thou 
 into the joy of thy Lord.' " 
 
 Then followed Bertin. " ' The Lord 
 bless thee, and keep thee from this time 
 forth for evermore.' "
 
 NEW year's morning. 35 
 
 Susanne added, ''May the blessing of a 
 little child fall sweetly on an old man ! " 
 
 Madeleine, whose head leaned on Mar- 
 guerite's shoulder, clasped her sister, as her 
 little one stood before her father, for those 
 simple words caused the pure heart of the 
 mother to yearn. 
 
 " Sister," whispered she, *' I hope you 
 are pleased with your godchild, she will be 
 sure to have a text for you." 
 
 " Hush ! my Bertin is now speaking ; 
 how" nicely he holds your Susy's hand." 
 
 " The gratitude of a rmited family," 
 said the boy, "make thy latter days 
 brighter than thy youth." 
 
 The blessing of childhood, so plaintive 
 to the aged, caused a tear to glisten in 
 Eodolphe's eye, and his breast heaved with 
 a half suppressed sigh, as the voices of 
 infancy awoke the dormant memories of 
 his own father and mother, and of his boy- 
 hood's home. 
 
 Placino; his ris^ht hand on Bertin' s head
 
 36 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 and his left on tliat of Susanne, he gently- 
 said, " ' The God who hath fed me all my 
 life long, the Angel which redeemed me 
 from all evil, bless the children.' " The 
 others, having repeated their verses, knelt 
 round him in a circle. 
 
 Rodolphe's lips moved as if in secret 
 prayer, then placing his hands on each in 
 turn, he blessed them in the name of his 
 father's God. The scene was one instinct 
 with the sacredness of family ties, and 
 deeply affecting to the beholders, who saw 
 old age and childhood thus blended, the 
 one finishing, the other commencing its 
 earthly pilgrimage. 
 
 "And now, my children," said the 
 aged patriarch, " I ought to reply to your 
 kind wishes, and make my New Year's 
 speech. Susanne, may the tears which 
 your mother shall shed over you, be those 
 of joy and not of grief! Bertin, may you 
 be good rather than clever, and the same 
 son to your father that he has been to me !
 
 NEW YEAR S MOENING. 37 
 
 Children/' continued lie, looking up at liis 
 sons and daughters, " children, elder and 
 younger, how great is the goodness of God 1 
 This day we enter on another year. Who 
 can tell what may happen during its 
 course ? We know not what a day may 
 bring forth, or whether we shall be spared 
 to meet together at its close. The present 
 times are troublous ; our church has been a 
 living witness for God's truth in this place 
 from time immemorial, and we may expect 
 suffermg for the trial of om^ faith, even as 
 they have persecuted our fathers in times 
 past. Children," pursued Rodolphe, in a 
 tone of solemn feelmg, "as one whose voice 
 shall soon be silent in the grave, as one who 
 stands on the brink of eternity, over whose 
 head have passed more than fourscore 
 years, I say to you, should the dreadful 
 trial ever come that you are called upon to 
 renounce your faith, choose sufferiug before 
 abjuration, death rather than apostasy. 
 Never flinch from the true gospel of grace.
 
 38 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 Eemember that lie who loves lands, or 
 cliildren, or life, better than Christ, is not 
 worthy of Him. He is the treasure of 
 earth and heaven, whom it is blessed to 
 follow even at the loss of all things. 
 Kneel, mj sons and daughters, let me 
 bless you once again, lest we all meet 
 together no more on earth." 
 
 The married couples then knelt where 
 their children had just been kneeling, and 
 bowed their heads before their aged father. 
 The same thin hand was placed on each, and 
 the same gentle voice breathed that blessing 
 vfhich was the right and privilege of age 
 and virtue to grant. 
 
 Janavel and the pensive Martha knelt 
 side by side, followed by their grown-up 
 daughters, and, at some distance, by the 
 athletic Saynald, who had edged a little 
 out of his place in order to approach 
 Ardoine. David and Lucille rank next to 
 Jean and Marguerite, each couple sur- 
 rounded by its respective group. Made-
 
 NEW YEAE's MOENING. 
 
 leine is alone, for she is a widow ; Renee 
 comes next with Daniel. The sixth sister is 
 absent ; it is Marie, who languishes on her 
 bed. Eut she and her lost husband are 
 represented by their daughter Ardoiae. 
 She knelt for some time in silence before 
 her grandfather, who, placing both his 
 hands on her head, looked up to heaven 
 and breathed a double blessing upon her, 
 who had no father to bless his child. 
 
 As Eodolphe bent low, his silvered hair 
 appeared whiter from contrast with those 
 golden locks upon which his shrivelled 
 hand rested so long. 
 
 Bright was this moral union of age and 
 beauty. In purity of faith, and excellence 
 of character, that grandfather and grand- 
 daughter were one. A friendship, guile- 
 less as that which angels feel for good men, 
 knit them together. What, if among the 
 loved, she was the beloved of that old man! 
 "Whose was the first morning welcome 
 which sounded in his ear ? Who knew his
 
 40 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 little ways and anticipated liis wants ? 
 Who opened liis book at its accustomed 
 j)lace and laid on the page the fresh moun- 
 tain flower ? Who ran to bring him the 
 glass of bright cold water from the spring, 
 dear to him from its association with his 
 boyhood ? It was Ardoine. Well might 
 his hand rest long upon that daughter's 
 head, and the father's heart flush once 
 more with the glow of nature's love. 
 
 " Come, little ones," said Etienne, after 
 his parents had risen, '' say good-bye to 
 grandfather. You know where we must go 
 next." 
 
 '' Oh, to aunty Marie, I shall be so glad 
 to see her, for I love her," said little 
 Aline. 
 
 " Then make your bow, and let us go." 
 
 So off they went, a blithe band, upon 
 whom youth had as yet dawned brightly, 
 and who knew neither the cares of life nor 
 the griefs which whiten the hair. But even 
 the least of them felt instinctively the
 
 NEW year's MOEXING. ^^ 
 
 spnpatliy of suffering, for tlieir little prattle 
 waxed softer, and tlieir tones became more 
 subdued, as tliey proceeded to tbe chamber 
 of tlie invalid. 
 
 ''Aunt Marie," said Etienne, on enter- 
 ing, " I liave brought my little company 
 this New Year's mornmg, and hope you will 
 be able to listen to them for a short time. 
 Speak gently, dears, so as to disturb aunt 
 as little as possible." 
 
 Again did the little speech-makers 
 come forward in turn, and repeat the 
 verses ah-eady uttered in the hearing of 
 their grandfather, with some slight varia- 
 tion in the expression of their good 
 wishes. 
 
 The scene was changed, but its moral 
 suggestions were the same. Bright-eyed 
 infancy was in contact, not with old age, 
 but with suffering. The afflicted aunt had 
 been imprisoned in that chamber, years be- 
 fore the eldest of that band was born. 
 They had come into the world — their
 
 42 THE SIX SISTEES OP THE VALLEYS. 
 
 powers were expanding, tlieir youth and 
 strength were freshening, but in place 
 and circumstances she had remained the 
 same. 
 
 The children looked with affection on 
 that pale face, and kissed that shadowy 
 hand, as it lay on the coverlet of the 
 couch. 
 
 '' God bless you, my dear ones," 
 whispered Marie; ''how good God is to 
 let me have such a refreshment of spirit, 
 and to learn how ' Out of the mouths of 
 babes and sucklings he can perfect praise.' " 
 
 Advancing two and two the children 
 knelt by the bedside. 
 
 The invalid laid her right hand on each 
 of them in turn, but the movement was 
 painful, and her voice was low, as she whis- 
 pered her blessing. 
 
 Ardoine stood at the foot of the bed, 
 gazing on that pale countenance with 
 the devotion of duty and pity, and the 
 tear dimmed that bright blue eye when
 
 NEW YEAR S MORNING. 43 
 
 she remembered lier parent's absence from 
 that family band. Guessing her mother's 
 wishes, Ardoine brought out some cakes of 
 Indian corn, mixed with currants, and, with 
 a loving smile, gave one to each of the 
 children. 
 
 " Mother," said Ardoine, later in the 
 afternoon, as she stooped over the bed and 
 kissed her pale cheek, " I trust this morn- 
 ing's scene has not been too much for you ; 
 we could none of us be content without wish- 
 ing you a happy JSTew Year, and receiving 
 your blessing ; and the children would have 
 been disappointed if they could not have 
 come to you." 
 
 '' God bless you, my daughter, and re- 
 ward you a thousand- fold for your mifailing 
 love towards your suffering mother ; but I 
 hear steps on the stairs, and they sound 
 like those of Eaynald." 
 
 " I am so glad for your sake, mother," 
 replied Ardoine, *' for he is so kind to you, 
 and you are always so pleased to see him."
 
 44 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 '* And are not you my daughter ?" said 
 Marie, with a faint smile. 
 
 Ardoine had no time to reply, for at this 
 moment the door opened, and Kaynald 
 entered.
 
 CHAPTER lY. 
 
 THE SIXTH SISTEE. 
 
 Adjoining the chambers set apart for the 
 use of the family, was a small outbuilding 
 abutting on one side of the quadrangle — 
 part of the main dwelling, and yet virtually 
 a detached house, having two entrances, 
 one from the inner court, and the other 
 from the outside. In a room of this out- 
 building lay the sixth sister, Marie. She 
 had been carried to the chamber of sick- 
 ness twenty-one years before, and had 
 never since descended the narrow staircase. 
 On first beholding her a stranger could 
 hardly resist feeling surprise and fear. 
 Was she alive? No sound, no motion,
 
 46 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 betrayed tlie lurking consciousness. The 
 peculiar hue of death was stamped upon 
 her face. The unearthly pallor, the closed 
 eye, the motionless form, the solemn still- 
 ness, all seemed to be the external proofs 
 of death, and it was difficult to believe that 
 life lingered in that apparent corpse. The 
 silence of the sick-room resembled that of 
 the grave, for it was only on approaching the 
 Sufferer that her painful breathing became 
 audible. The curtained window restrained 
 the strong glare of day, diffusing a sub- 
 dued light which augmented the solemnity 
 of feeling produced by the scene. Her 
 dark hair presented the only contrast to 
 her blanched cheek, and seemed to belie 
 the ravages of her disease. The expression 
 upon her countenance was one of calm 
 triumph, arising from a mind at peace with 
 God and in charity with man. On a nearer 
 approach the traces of premature age and 
 protracted suffering became visible, yet 
 these were swept away when she dilated
 
 THE SIXTH SISTER. 47 
 
 on the subject -wliicli absorbed lier lieart, 
 and at the name of Jesus her face was 
 brightened as with the smile of health. 
 Her illness had a melancholy origin. Dur- 
 ing one of those minor persecutions to 
 which the Waldenses were subject, she had 
 been cast into a dungeon in the castle of 
 Lucerna. She lingered there for six weeks, 
 with the damp pavement as her only 
 bed, and without change of raiment. 
 Though no actual mutilations had been 
 inflicted, yet she had been subjected to a 
 species of mental torture which is the re- 
 finement of cruelty. The soldiers who were 
 on guard battered at the door incessantly, 
 so that continuous sleep became an im- 
 possibility, and terrified her with accounts 
 of the torments she might sufier if she 
 refused to go to mass. After six weeks' 
 torture in the pestilent prison, fever 
 supervened, and as her death was con- 
 sidered certain she was cast out into the 
 woods of Lucerna, where she was acci-
 
 48 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 dentally rescued by one of lier father's 
 flock. Exposure, fever, and liorror had 
 undermined her nervous energies, and left 
 their cruel impress on her impaired con- 
 stitution. She entered the dungeon in the 
 glow of health, she came out a living 
 corpse. From that time varied diseases 
 had battled in her frame. Her tremulous 
 breath seemed a direct loan from heaven, 
 and she lay supported by pillows, expecting 
 every moment to be her last. 
 
 All were touched on beholding this 
 wreck of suffering, due to the persecuting 
 hand of man. But the stranger's sympathy 
 soon ebbed into admiration when mind came 
 into collision with mind, and she divulged 
 the latent consolations that possessed her 
 soul. Her unruffled peace and stable joy 
 were a moral prodigy. She gloried in 
 tribulation, and was not weary of the 
 Lord's correction. Like the sand, which 
 ages ago was so soft as to receive the 
 impress of the passing shower, and though
 
 THE SIXTH SISTEE. 40 
 
 hardened into the massive rock still retains 
 unimpaired the delicacy of its former im- 
 pressions, so with her responsive soul, 
 every pain, every sigh, was producing its 
 effect in tracing thereon more accurately 
 the image of God, preparatory to its eternal 
 maintenance. From her lips nothing was 
 common-place, for the most threadbare 
 maxim received emphasis from the lip of 
 suffering, as well as that charm which only 
 the living voice can convey ; more touch- 
 ingly amid the silence of the sick-room. 
 
 The furniture around the bed was of 
 the scantiest description ; a wardrobe and 
 a sofa, on which lay a Bible, a few books, 
 and knitting implements. The floor was 
 partially covered with a strip of carpet 
 brought by Eapiald from the valleys of 
 France, which gave relief to the faded 
 curtains of the couch. 
 
 In this chamber, eleven years before, 
 Marie's husband had breathed his last. 
 The husband and the wife had lain side by 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 side on tliat bed of sickness, tlie one hover- 
 ing for years on tlie brink of the grave ; 
 the other prostrated in the vigour of man- 
 hood. 
 
 Happily they were able to reciprocate 
 the experiences of faith, and to strengthen 
 each other in the name of their Redeemer. 
 
 It was a melancholy duty for Ardoine 
 to minister to her parents, painfully doubt- 
 ing which of them she might lose first. 
 Contrary to expectation, the last was first, 
 and the first last. Marie, who had already 
 undergone ten years of excruciating suffer- 
 ing, was destined to linger for more than 
 another decade. 
 
 As might be naturally expected, she 
 was an object of special interest to the 
 whole of that loving circle. 
 
 Eodolphe paid her a daily visit. Bent 
 with years and leaning on his staff, he 
 entered that room to interchange thought 
 and feeling with another who, like himself, 
 was on the confines of the grave.
 
 THE SIXTH SISTEE. 51 
 
 The voice of the father sounded sweetly 
 in the daughter s ear as he spake of Christ, 
 his hope and glory, while the faint wliispers 
 of the daughter echoed with equal sweet- 
 ness in the ear of the aged father, for 
 neither pain nor age had numbed in either 
 the instincts of nature. They would con- 
 verse for hours on experimental religion. 
 Shut out from the routine of life, and having 
 gradually lost her eyesight, Marie's memory 
 recurred to those passages of Scriptm^e 
 which she had learned in youth — they came 
 molten from a suffering heart, partaking the 
 same spirit which had often dictated the 
 words. To grasp these phases of truth, 
 the father, though all his life a preacher 
 of the Gospel, sat at the feet of his child, 
 for the experiences of suffering cannot be 
 learned by theory from the volumes of theo- 
 logy. The other five sisters would daily 
 minister to the invahd, soothing her spirit 
 in the way most natural to their individual 
 dispositions. Martha turned to those pas- 
 
 0. OF ILL LIB,
 
 52 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 sages of Scripture wliicli spake of mental 
 conflict and sorrow, and thus slie struck a 
 cliord in unison witli Marie's state of mind. 
 Lucille, whose buoyant disposition led lier 
 to look joyfully on life, turned to those 
 bright visions of the future enrapturing to 
 her heart and fancy. 
 
 Renee would take a portion of the 
 Psalms, and in her plaintive voice hymn 
 them to some familiar tune which recalled 
 the memory of bygone days. Marguerite 
 delighted to dwell on the Epistle to the 
 Hebrews. Being of a reflective mind, she 
 loved to trace the apostle's chain of reason- 
 ing, and thus instructed her sister, whose 
 sufferings reacted on the skilled interpreter ; 
 while Madeleine sat at her feet, and equally 
 with Marie drank in her words, now and 
 then gently asking some question for further 
 information. Ardoine, always bright and 
 lively, never thinking of the pleasures 
 that attract young people, would have been 
 chained to that bedside, had not obedience
 
 THE SIXTH SISTER. 53 
 
 and duty required lier to consider her own 
 health. The mother felt that influence of 
 love, and the dreamless hom^s of the night 
 would glide by more swiftly when she knew 
 that her child was sleeping near her couch. 
 There was a tenderness in all the daughter 
 did. The very cup of cold water was 
 priceless in her hand, enhanced by a winning 
 speech or smile of love. Ardoine shone in 
 that sick-room in the beauty of character, 
 a charm deeper than the grace of figure or 
 the tincture of the skin ; and Raynald, when 
 he observed her, often quoted to himself 
 that saying of the wise man, " Favour is 
 deceitful and beauty is vain, but a woman 
 that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised."
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 KAYNALD. 
 
 Raynald paused as lie entered the cliainber 
 of sickness, and a smile passed over Hs 
 features wlien lie perceived Ardoine minis- 
 tering to lier mother. Whenever he raised 
 that latch he felt the reverence attached to 
 hallowed ground, for the enthusiasm of 
 youth had thrown an atmosphere of mystery 
 about the bedridden martyr on account of 
 her suffering and piety. 
 
 The sight of his dying uncle and aunt 
 lying side by side upon that bed had never 
 been forgotten, and that first image of death 
 had been engraven among his most lasting 
 impressions.
 
 EAYNALD. 55 
 
 Had slie been imprisoned in that room 
 for twenty-one years ? Did her captivity 
 beofin soon after his birth ? Could he con- 
 dense the chasing phases of boyhood and 
 yonth, and contrast them with that mono- 
 tony of pain ? During that time he had 
 received his education ; he had been on a 
 mission to the sister churches in Switzer- 
 land and Bohemia; he had crossed the 
 Alps, and penetrated into France, wander- 
 ing among the Montagnards of Cevennes, 
 and on the slopes of Leberon ; he had 
 visited the classic cities of northern Italy, 
 to collate experiences and remodel the 
 impressions of childhood. Each time he 
 had bidden his aunt, as he thought, a last 
 adieu, but each time returned to find her 
 where he had left her, unchanged in place, 
 unchanged in feeling, awaiting her sum- 
 mons, triumphant thi'ough the death and 
 merits of her Eedeemer. 
 
 When at home he read the Scriptures to 
 her daily, and his delicate and thoughtful
 
 56 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 attentions did honour to liis manhood, 
 being such as are generally considered 
 the peculiar glory of woman. 
 
 It was his delight to scale the mountain 
 for the first gentian, so softly blue when 
 embedded in its crystal shrine of snow, 
 and to place it in that thin wan hand. 
 He was jealous that Aunt Marie should taste 
 the first fruits of the vineyard, and for her he 
 reserved the last treasures of the orchard. 
 
 Now that he was grown up, was he 
 additionally attracted to her bedside by the 
 hope of meeting one who was dearer to him 
 than life ? "Was it to hear the voice of 
 Ardoine ? To look into her sunny eyes ? 
 To see her in an aspect so calculated to win 
 moral homage ? Admitting that this had 
 a share in his thoughts, let us not detract 
 from his tried devotion to his aunt ; that 
 he unconsciously sought companionship 
 with her he loved was but a proof that he 
 was human, and swayed by the world-wide 
 instincts of our common nature.
 
 EAYNALD. 57 
 
 " How are you, to-day, aunt ?" said 
 Raynald, taking his seat by lier bedside. 
 
 " I feel no abatement of my pains, dear 
 nephew ; but that does not ruffle my peace. 
 I rejoice in thinking that in a moment I 
 may be with my Saviour who is all in all 
 to me." 
 
 '' Then you are not afraid of death ? 
 My heart often trembles when I think of 
 it, and my faith fails." 
 
 " Look to Christ," said the sufferer, 
 " He has swallowed up death in victory. 
 The dark valley is lighted up by his 
 presence, and He has left me the shadow 
 and not the substance." 
 
 " Oh ! tell me," exclaimed Raynald, 
 with earnestness, " how is it that you are 
 able to be always the same ?" 
 
 " His promises are my support. He 
 told us on the cross that his work was 
 finished, and this is the true ground of 
 faith and comfort. I plead nothing but 
 Christ and his merits. Jesus drank up the
 
 58 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 dregs of the cup of sorrow, and sufiered 
 for us from tlie manger to tlie cross." 
 
 " I find my love to Christ so cold ; I 
 can love a fellow- creature warmly, but alas, 
 towards Him, whom I should love best, it 
 often seems more an idea than a feelmg." 
 
 ''I can truly say," replied she, "that 
 Christ is the idol of my soul. Oh ! if I had 
 ten thousand tongues, I could sound in 
 every ear the iove of Christ ! He lived and 
 died for us ; his blood was shed for us ; his 
 promises are yea and amen. I love Him 
 because He first loved me. What must the 
 glories of heaven be!" continued the 
 sufferer, as her whisper grew louder from 
 animation. " I can't understand them yet, 
 no, not till I get there, though my soul is 
 always flooded with the assurance thereof 
 which it would be impossible to describe." 
 
 "But is it not possible for people to 
 deceive themselves, dear aunt ?" 
 
 " You can't deceive yourself if you go 
 to Jesus and take Him in his own way.
 
 EAYNALD. 59 
 
 Satan will try to deceive you, but Jesus 
 and Satan reflect a difierent light, and give 
 a different peace." 
 
 ''Tell me, wliat is tlie cliief desire of 
 your heart?" 
 
 " Holiness is all my desire ; I want to 
 be perfect in Christ. Sin is the abhor- 
 rence of my soul, and my worst cross." 
 
 '' Are you never tempted to murmur ?" 
 
 " Bless God, his grace prevents that. I 
 thank Him for all his dispensations. All 
 his chastisements breathe love into my 
 soul." 
 
 " What is the secret of your strength ?" 
 
 ''I can do nothing without the Holy 
 Spirit. Without Him I cannot think one 
 good thought; we could not offer our 
 hearts to God of ourselves, we must go to 
 the cross, and conquer through the Holy 
 Spirit." 
 
 " Oh, when shall my soul burst the 
 chains of sin, and reach the fulness of 
 Christ ; but I will wait the Lord's leisure,
 
 60 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 as I am sealed with tlie blood of Jesus unto 
 tlie day of redemption." 
 
 "Do you tliink/' asked Raynald, after 
 a pause, "tliatfrom obedience to tlie will 
 of God you could go tlirougli your suffer- 
 ings again ?" 
 
 " I sliould not be dissatisfied to suffer 
 for twenty- two years more, if it were for 
 the glory of God ; for He is quite able to 
 support me, and Christ has promised to sit 
 by my furnace. I was once impatient to 
 die, but not so now, for I can leave all to 
 Him." 
 
 Ardoine, who was seated on the foot of 
 the bed, appeared engrossed with her knit- 
 ting, but she raised her head from time to 
 time, and cast an affectionate glance to- 
 wards her mother and cousin, which was 
 secretly observed, and often involuntarily 
 intercepted by the latter. 
 
 " I met one of our neighbour's sons 
 to-day, aunt, and I had some conversation 
 with him about the sufficiency of Christ's
 
 RAYXALD. 61 
 
 merits. I said liowmucli pleasauter it is to 
 think that Christ's blood cleanses us at once, 
 than to have to make up the deficiency in 
 purgatory, which is an insult to Christ, as if 
 He had left the very work He came to do 
 incomplete. He listened to me atten- 
 tively," continued Raynald, ftirtively glanc- 
 ing at Ardoine, to see if she was in- 
 terested, '' and desired to hear more on the 
 subject." 
 
 " Oh^ I am so glad," replied Marie, 
 " you don't know what delight I feel when 
 I hear of others receiving the true faith. 
 It gives one tmspeakable joy to hear of 
 conversions ; I would grasp all the world 
 and take them to Christ ; my heart is so 
 enlarged for the whole world." 
 
 " You are talking too much, dear airnt, 
 you look so pale and th'ed to-day," said 
 Raynald, pressing her hand. 
 
 *' Oh, transporting thought, to think I 
 shall soon be in heaven ! I am a sinner, 
 but redeemed by grace, ' free grace.' Health
 
 62 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 would be a great drawback to me, to bring 
 me back to tMs world. If I were well I 
 might become self-sufficient and cold." 
 
 ''Ardoine," said Raynald, addressing 
 his cousin, " what a pleasure it is for us to 
 hear your dear mother's experiences, and 
 to have our faith confirmed by this living 
 proof of God's power and faithfulness." 
 
 " Speak gently, Eaynald," replied Ar- 
 doine, placing her finger on her lips ; 
 " mother has had a restless night, and still 
 feels the excitement of the children's visit. 
 She seems as if she were inclined to sleep." 
 
 There was silence in the room for some 
 moments. Marie had dozed off into a 
 fitful slumber. Eaynald then approached 
 his cousin, and with an expression of hope, 
 shaded by fear, whispered in a low voice — 
 
 '' Dear Ardoine, this New Year's day is 
 a day of general happiness, will you grant 
 me a favour as my New Year's present, 
 especially as you know it is my birthday?" 
 Certainly, dear Eaynald, I may un- 
 
 cc
 
 EAYNALD. 63 
 
 hesitatingly confide in your prudence and 
 discretion, and I will grant your favour 
 before it is named/' 
 
 "And you will not be angry with me ?" 
 
 " How could I be angry with one so 
 thoughtful and affectionate as you are ? 
 Does not your kindness to my mother 
 endear you to a daughter's heart." 
 
 Raynald sighed and made no reply. 
 The breathing of the sleeper was distinctly 
 audible, and both regarded her for a mo- 
 ment with silent interest. 
 
 "Come, Raynald," said Ardoine, in a 
 whisper, " name your favour, that I may 
 have the pleasure of granting it." 
 
 "It is," said Eaynald, respectfully 
 taking Ardoine' s hand and pressing it to 
 his lips, "that you will allow me to tell 
 you " 
 
 " Oh, Raynald !" said Ardoine, starting 
 to her feet, "listen to that noise in the 
 direction of St. Jean. It has awakened 
 mother. Oh, what do I hear ? It sounds
 
 64 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 like tlie tumult of a mob in our vil- 
 lage. There ! did you liear ? Is not 
 that the shot of an arquebus ? What 
 are they doing ? Look 1" exclaimed the 
 girl, rushing to the window, *' there is 
 a faint yellowish glare yonder ; something 
 is on fire. It is just where our temple 
 stands. Raynald, you are bold and 
 strong, I need not urge you to go and 
 defend our friends, if there is danger. 
 Consult your father. Oh, hasten and pre- 
 vent any bloodshedding, or the destruction 
 of our village.'* 
 
 '' I will go with double energy," said 
 Eaynald, moumfiilly, " if you bid me go. 
 Do not Mghten Aunt Marie, I will come 
 back to you soon, I trust, with more cheer- 
 ing news."
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 
 THE TEMPLE. 
 
 The valleys of the Waldenses had, from 
 time immemorial, been free from the errors 
 of Rome, and for centuries had presented 
 no external proofs of antagonistic creeds ; 
 but this was so no longer. The Catholics had 
 for some time past raised their chapels by 
 the side of the Yaudois temples, and made 
 various inroads upon this primitive church. 
 In 1596 the first monastic corporation 
 had been established at La Tour, since 
 which time, to quote an old historian, " a 
 brood of monks multiplied there, to the 
 great detriment of the valleys." Jesuits, 
 Capuchins, Franciscans, Observantines, and 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 6Q THE SIX SISTERS OE THE VALLEYS. 
 
 members cf other Romish orders, were to be 
 seen in every market-place, and even in the 
 secluded mountain glen, whose recognized 
 tactics were to embroil the pastors, and to 
 lead to collisions by insults and acts of 
 outrage. The village of St. Jean, from 
 its position on the high road from Pignerol 
 to La Tour, was peculiarly liable to 
 these incursions of the holy brotherhoods, 
 which, in 1654, had become more frequent 
 and violent. 
 
 It was on the afternoon of Kew Year's 
 day that Jean Prins, accompanied by little 
 Bertin, was returning home from the valley 
 of Angrogna. In passing through the 
 market-place of St. Jean he was rudely 
 assailed by a Capuchin monk. 
 
 '' Look here," cried the latter, address- 
 ing the bystanders, " here are some of those 
 sneakmg hypocrites who are endangering 
 our peace, and who have hired men to 
 poison our holy father, the Pope of Rome. 
 Countrymen, help ; look at that ranting
 
 THE TEMPLE. G7 
 
 brat of Calvin, born on tlie Geneva dung- 
 liill. You Calvinist impostors, I could 
 break your heads with your everlasting 
 Bible." 
 
 "Boy, do you see this?" said Simond, 
 holding up a large gilt crucifix, and grasp- 
 ing Bertin ; '' down on your knees to it, or I 
 will shove it down your throat." So saying 
 he thrust it against the child's mouth, caus- 
 ing the blood to flow from his lips. 
 
 " Where were you before Luther ? 
 you're nothing but the spawn of that 
 German, whose father was a wretched 
 scraper of faggots, and 3^et, you vermin, you 
 have been always gnawing at the Holy 
 Eoman Church." 
 
 '' Mary, mother of God," continued 
 Simond, falling on his knees, " defend thy 
 holy servant Innocent X., and give us grace 
 to crush this brood of scorpions; let thy 
 displeasure rest on all the apostate kings 
 of Europe ; blast the English Roundhead, 
 and the Yandal Charles Gustavus; bhght
 
 68 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 the cantons of Zuricli and Basle ; break 
 open those Dutch dykes ; plant thorns in 
 the dymg pillow of the Elector Palatine ; 
 may he be linked with the bull-headed 
 Henry of England. Let them be anathema. 
 Ye wolyes ! ye robbers of decent men ! 
 leave us at peace ; ye escaped from the 
 bottomless pit." 
 
 " Here, brethren, keep an eye on these 
 heretics, they are trying to bolt. Is there 
 no one here to wipe the lad's mouth ? he'll 
 have soiled my crucifix; I must scour it 
 in holy water. Poor boy, how he frowns 
 at me ! stop, bring them along, and we 
 will teach them more of our faith and 
 practice." 
 
 With these words the Capuchin, who 
 had succeeded in gathering a crowd around 
 him, rushed to the Waldensian temple of 
 San Giovanni. 
 
 '' There," screamed Simond, " there's 
 that cursed bell in this tower, notwithstand- 
 ing the Duke's edict, that bell, I say, which
 
 THE TEMPLE. G9 
 
 has given tlie ear-aclie to tlie pious so long, 
 and won't let ns pray ; I'll smash it if I 
 can get hold of it ; it would make bullets 
 for you French soldiers," cried he, address- 
 ing some men of Grancey's regiment who 
 had been quartered for some months in the 
 valley. 
 
 Having flung several stones through 
 the windows, he proceeded to batter down 
 the door with a hammer snatched from the 
 adjoming forge. In rushed the crowd, 
 heated by the monk's discourse, shouting, 
 *' Viva la Santa Fede ! Viva la Santa 
 CJiiesa Bomana !^^ 
 
 The soldiers, Piedmontese, French, and 
 Irish, mingled with monks and peasants, 
 scattered themselves through the building, 
 and began the work of destruction. 
 
 " Gnaffe ! where' s my goblet?" cried the 
 monk, hunting about for the sacramental 
 chalice. " Ha ! I've got it, and per Baccho 
 here's the cellar — a flask of the oldest for me. 
 You harhets shan't get drunk here to-night ;
 
 70 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 here's my toast," lie continued, pouring out 
 tlie wine into the silver vessel : '' Luther 
 and Beelzebub, may they ever be united !" 
 
 ''Hold on, holy father," shouted Yillal- 
 min Roche, " we are all equal here, you 
 mustn't have it all your own way ; give me 
 a drink." 
 
 With these words the soldier, who had 
 been celebrating the Feast of the Circum- 
 cision in deep draughts at the village tavern, 
 seized the vessel out of Simond's hands, 
 thereby upsetting most of the wine. He 
 reeled inside the rails, and seating himself 
 astride the table, roared out — 
 
 " Boys — ^boys — here — he-re's — a health 
 to — the holy Calvin " 
 
 ''Arra wisha! and if that's what yer 
 afther, I'll knock you clane off your perch 
 like a bhnd jackdaw," said a wild-looking 
 Irishman, snatching up a Bible and hurling 
 it at Yillalmin. The leaves whirred as the 
 book flew through the air, and the missile 
 struck the cup, the contents of which
 
 THE TEMPLE. 71 
 
 streamed into tlie soldier's bell- shaped 
 boot. 
 
 " What's that you're after — a health to 
 our holy father ? I say long life and a 
 good wife for Innocent. I wish him safe 
 into purgatory. The Pope, boys, the Pope; 
 down and cross yourselves, or I'll baptize 
 you with the scrapings." 
 
 ''Here's the bell," interrupted Simond, 
 with a voice of thunder ; " take that," said 
 he, hurling it with all his force against the 
 pavement. " I think it will hold its clap- 
 per now, as our good duke ordered it to 
 do some time ago. Children, you can wor- 
 ship now without hearing Belial tolling." 
 
 Meanwhile the work of destruction did 
 not flag. The pews were torn up, the 
 benches were flung into the aisle, the com- 
 munion table and rails were piled in a 
 heap, the registrations, the minister's robes, 
 the Bibles and psalm-books, were rent m 
 pieces and thrown among the debris. The 
 church was filled with a clamorous crowd.
 
 72 THE SIX SISTEES OP THE VALLEYS. 
 
 Frencli, Irisli, Piedmontese soldiers, jost- 
 ling against monks, and priests, in one 
 mass of confusion; whilst the shouts and 
 curses of rage and fanaticism ascended to 
 heaven from this late temple of peace like 
 the howl of hell. The monk Simond as- 
 cended the pulpit, where for some moments 
 he stood looking upon the havoc with a 
 smile of malicious joy. In his left hand he 
 carried a burning torch, and in his right 
 a drawn sword, whilst from his waist hung 
 a large crucifix. Making the sign of the 
 cross with the sword, he cried out in a loud 
 voice, " Gloria in ccelis altissimis Deo, et 
 in terra pax, in homines henevolentia.^^ 
 
 The light of the pine torch glared 
 fitfully above the crowd, and the sparks 
 which fell from it soon kindled some of the 
 scattered books that were lying around the 
 pulpit. 
 
 Above the din was heard the stento- 
 rian voice of the preacher — " Thus saith 
 the Lord, let the Church gain the victory.
 
 THE TEMPLE. 73 
 
 By what means ? By tliese means," con- 
 tinued he, as the sword in his right hand 
 clanked upon the pulpit. "We must 
 cast out the idolater, root and branch, 
 with fire and sword. Use your axes and 
 hammers, and fulfil the words of Scrip- 
 ture, spoken by David the prophet — ■ 
 ' Quasi in sylva licjnorum securibus exciderunt 
 januas ejus in idijpsum; in securi et ascia 
 dejecerunt earn.' I hate this brood of 
 heretics, who are always boasting that they 
 descend fi^om the Apostles, and who talk 
 as if the Pope was wrong, and they were 
 right." 
 
 '^ By whom," said Simond, waxing 
 warm, '' have I been sent here ? By the 
 holy council — De jjrojjagandd fide, et ex- 
 tiiyandis hcereticis — that's the last glorious 
 addition to their title since the jubilee of 
 1650; that's my motto, pluck up the beg- 
 gars, raze their houses, pluck, pluck them 
 up, root and branch ; don't stand gaping at 
 heresy, whilst the harbets are giving long-
 
 74 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 winded references to tlieir perverted Bible. 
 Sanl and tlie Amalekites — that's tlie 
 Clinrcli's example — I'd exterminate them to 
 a man. Would tliey had one neck, give me 
 the sword above it, and I'll warrant I'll not 
 strike twice. If the Archbishop of Turin 
 and the Marquis of Pianesse don't find me 
 up to my work it's not my fault. What's the 
 use of wasting time, spending money, 
 doling out bread, when there's a shorter 
 cut ? ' Down with them ! down with 
 them ! bring them to the dust,' as say the 
 ancient Fathers, and the Lord of Hosts." 
 
 " Ah ! methinks I see my good friend 
 Malvicino amongst you, the Abbot of Pig- 
 nerol. Confessor to the Marchioness of 
 Pianesse. Brother, hast thou any of thy 
 lambs here ? any of those whose swords are 
 in the Church's pay? If so, bid them 
 spoil the Philistines, for their goods are 
 confiscated." 
 
 These words were addressed to one 
 whose appearance was anything but pre-
 
 THE TEMPLE. 75 
 
 possessing. He was short in stature, and 
 somewhat corpulent, while his eyes, dim with 
 sensuality, betrayed rather the revels of the 
 refectory than the vigils of the oratory. 
 
 " Holy Abbot, help us with our two con- 
 verts," exclaimed Simond : '' here is a boy 
 who would do for your godly institution at 
 Pignerol, where you educate the children of 
 the apostates in the true faith. But it's 
 more good luck than he deserves. Will you 
 baptize him. Abbot ?" 
 
 " By Pope Innocent YIII., and liis 
 eight sons and eight daughters, I will," 
 exclaimed Malvicino. '' Here, you yomig 
 urchin, let me get hold of you." 
 
 Terrified by his looks, Bertin made a 
 convulsive spring, and succeeded in extri- 
 cating himself from the man who held liim 
 prisoner. 
 
 With breathless haste the boy ran in the 
 direction of La Baudene, followed by the 
 Abbot at his utmost speed. 
 
 '^ Confound the wire- worm," groaned
 
 76 THE SIX SISTERS OP THE VALLEYS. 
 
 Malvicino. " By Pope . . . wlio . . if I 
 break . . my lungs . . that thin-nosed 
 monk will get into my Abbot's chair . . 
 which he has been so long coveting." 
 
 The Abbot had hardly disappeared before 
 a young man of commanding height ran 
 breathlessly into the temple. 
 
 Recovering from the momentary recoil 
 which he experienced on beholding the 
 scene, he rushed regardless of danger into 
 the midst of the crowd to the place where 
 Jean was guarded. Grasping a soldier with 
 either hand, he dashed them backwards on 
 the pavement. 
 
 " Quick, uncle," exclaimed Eaynald. 
 '' Keep close to me. These cowards will 
 give me a path you see." 
 
 ''Ah, Ardoine," muttered the young 
 man between his teeth, as he looked up at 
 Simond in the pulpit, " I feel as if I could 
 hurl that intruder from yon sacred place, 
 where we have listened to our grandfather's 
 voice. But for thy sake I will abstain from
 
 ROMES APOSTLE. 
 
 Fnge 77.
 
 THE TEMPLE. 77 
 
 what might lead to bloodshed, single-handed 
 as I am against such odds." 
 
 As he was making for the door, a frag- 
 ment of wood struck him in the face, causing 
 the blood to stream from his cheek. Re- 
 gardless of his wound, he extricated himself 
 and uncle from the crowd, considering it 
 most prudent to return to La Baudene. 
 
 Simond, who had beheld with fear the 
 daring exploit of Raynald, was filled with 
 revengeful fiiry when he saw him depart. 
 
 " Children," said he, after recovering his 
 breath, "it's New Year's Day, let us have 
 an auto dafe. Let truth be sounded in this 
 pulpit for the last time ; let not the squinting 
 harhet ruin your brethren's souls any longer. 
 Destroy this temple, saith the Lord. De- 
 struite temjpluin hoc, and then you will be able 
 to worship according to your conscience." 
 
 Simond now descended from the pulpit 
 and mingled with the crowd, who needed 
 little exhortation to glut the vengeance of 
 bigotry and rage.
 
 78 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 The pulpit was tlirown into tlie centre 
 aisle, and tlie crasli of ruin resounded 
 through, the building. The monks gather- 
 ing fragments of wood and books into 
 a large pile, lighted them in the church. 
 
 "Marcy on us, here's a blaze," cried 
 O'Donoghue. " The Clargy want to warm 
 their feet, and it's right on the first of 
 January when the frost is nipping our toes. 
 I'll bet his riverince would like to clap 
 that Sassenach on the top, and I should like 
 to be afther roastin' some pratees. But I 
 must lind a hand. God an' the blissed 
 mother and the thrue Church for iyer." 
 
 The smouldering fire soon blazed more 
 fiercely as the pews and pulpit-rails and 
 books were heaped one upon another. 
 
 '' Here," said Simond, flinging a Bible 
 into the pyre, " this is the heretic's text- 
 book. Take care, touch it not, Graspardo, 
 or you will need a Bishop's absolution ; and 
 if you were to die suddenly, your soul might 
 be lost for ever."
 
 THE TEMPLE. 79 
 
 Some liewed dovni tlie doors witli pick- 
 axes, while others inserted powder into the 
 chinks of the masonry to blast the brick- 
 work. The walls were soon blackened. 
 The text of Scripture over the arch, " This 
 is hfe eternal, to know thee the only true 
 God and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast 
 sent," was no longer legible. 
 
 The leaping jets of fire scathed the 
 rafters ; they cracked and hissed, they 
 charred and glowed, and then snapping in 
 twain, fell into the lower ruin, bringing with 
 them a portion of the roof. The wind now 
 fanned the flames. The wavering lines of 
 light struggled with the breeze, and gra- 
 dually the columns of fire pierced the dark 
 shadows of eve. 
 
 The fire rages, for there is no efibrt 
 made to quench the devouring element. 
 The maddened crowd dance round, singing 
 anthems to the Virgin, and beseech her to 
 accept this labom^ of love upon the first day 
 of the New Year.
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 NEW TEAe's evening. 
 
 Malvicino, altliougli unable to overtake 
 Bertin, observed him enter the avenue 
 which led to La Baudene. 
 
 With frantic speed the child rushed into 
 the court-yard, and his screams soon 
 brought Ardoine to his assistance. Mal- 
 vicino, who seemed determined not to lose 
 his prize, eagerly followed him through the 
 archway. On entering the yard, the Abbot 
 seemed suddenly struck with astonishment, 
 and looked round upon the building as if to 
 assure himself of the actual locality. 
 
 '' Two- and- twenty years," muttered he 
 to himself. " Can it be the same place ?
 
 NEW year's evening. 81 
 
 By Pope Alexander's poisoned cups, if that 
 wine has not clouded my brain it is the 
 very same. How time rolls on ! Are they 
 the same people ? There seems to be a 
 family likeness. Ha ! Ha ! they should thank 
 me, if they remember me, for the good 
 service I once rendered them." 
 
 ''Ha!" said he, raising liis head, and 
 perceiving Ardoine, " what have we here ? 
 A good-looking girl ; that anchorite Borgia 
 would have admired her profile ! If I could 
 get hold of her I would resign the lad, and 
 let him and the rest of them go to the 
 devil their own way." 
 
 He then approached Ardoine, who was 
 so occupied at the fountain, in washing 
 away the stain of blood from Bertin's 
 mouth, that she was unaware of his pre- 
 sence. She looked wp on hearing his 
 footstep, and grew pale with speecliless 
 terror when she found herself thus suddenly 
 confronted with a Romish ecclesiastic. 
 
 "Do not fear, my daughter," said the 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 THE SIX SISTERS OE THE VALLEYS. 
 
 Abbot, addressing Ardoine in his smoothest 
 tone. " The lad has been baptized ; he is 
 our property, but I will resign him for your 
 sake, if you will " 
 
 ''Hold!" said Eaynald, in a voice of 
 thunder, as he entered the court, and having 
 heard the Abbot's speech, perceived the 
 danger in which Ardoine and the child were 
 placed — 
 
 '' Touch not the lad, profane kidnapper, 
 or your monkish cowl shall not save you 
 from a brother's vengeance." 
 
 Malvicino was hesitating as to what 
 line of conduct he should adopt, when the 
 unexpected entrance of two of the ruffians 
 in the pay of his abbey, who had followed 
 him in the distance, offered the solution of 
 his difficulty. 
 
 '' Soldiers," said the Abbot, "you have 
 come at the right time. Yon lad is the 
 property of our convent, and it is our duty 
 to save his soul. By Pope Hildebrand do 
 your work boldly, as we pay you well.
 
 ^EW YEAPv S EVENING. 83 
 
 Methinks the two of you are a match for 
 that fellow eyen if he were inchned to resist, 
 which I hope, for his own sake, he is not." 
 
 The two men advanced in order to seize 
 Bertin, — but they had misjudged theh^ 
 antagonist. Springing forward, Rapiald 
 grasped the foremost round his waist, and 
 threw liim into the water which surrounded 
 the fountain. One blow was sufficient to 
 disable the second, whose sword fell fi'om 
 his powerless grasp. 
 
 Malvicino did not wait to see more, but 
 retreated at his utmost speed. 
 
 " Some other time," he gasped, 'M 
 will see her agam. . . After so long a time 
 I had forgotten the place. But one . . 
 jnust be cautious with such people. Pro- 
 fane kidnapper ! . . What did he mean ? 
 Does he hint at ? Xo. . . By Pope 
 
 . who . . an idea strikes me. . . It 
 comes from the Virgin ; I will sa}' foiu' 
 more Aves . . to-night m her honour . . 
 if I can oret safelv back to Pio-nerol."
 
 84 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 " Oil, stop 1" exclaimed Ardoine, as 
 Raynald bent over the fallen soldier ; "do 
 not kill tliem. We must return good for 
 evil. I tliink Bertin is more frightened 
 than hurt." 
 
 " If they had touched you I could not 
 have forgiven them ; but since you intercede 
 for them I will do nothing more." 
 
 '' Oh, Raynald !" exclaimed Ardoine, as 
 a gleam of light fell on his face, " what's 
 the matter with you ? you are hurt. I see 
 blood on your cheek. Oh forgive me if I 
 did not think of you, I, who sent you into 
 the danger." 
 
 The tone of unfeigned agitation in 
 which these words were uttered caused 
 a glow of pleasure to light up Ray- 
 nald's countenance. He listened to those 
 expressions of interest with breathless 
 eagerness, and his voice trembled as he 
 replied — 
 
 " I am not much hurt, it's only a flesh 
 wound, though it has bled a great deal. I
 
 NEW TEAe's evening. 85 
 
 will wasli it first, and then go to Aunt 
 Lucille for some of lier stores ; she is 
 always praising the virtues of her calendula, 
 and I wdll give her the opportunity of heal- 
 ing me quickly." 
 
 " Dear Raynald, let me help you ; here 
 is my handkerchief, let me dip it in the 
 water, and that may refresh you." 
 
 '' Wliat will you think of me, dear 
 Ardoine, if this wound should leave a scar ? 
 shall you not be afraid to look at me ?" 
 
 '* Afraid to look at you, dear Raynald ! 
 no, that scar would only serve to remind 
 me of yoiu^ bravery, and that there is no 
 one else in our valley so self-forgetful as 
 you are." 
 
 "Then I trust I shall have the scar," 
 replied the mountaineer, with a smile. " If 
 you think thus, I shall be well rewarded. 
 But here is my mother coming. I must 
 hasten and wash away these marks, or she 
 will be alarmed. I see lights, so I suppose 
 it is time to assemble, and I hear Etienne
 
 86 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 calling me. Gro to them, Ardoine, but do 
 not frigliten tliem, for tliey cannot know 
 anything of what has just happened." 
 
 " Where is Raynald ?" said Lucille, ad- 
 dressing Ardoine as she entered the room. 
 ''It must be sometliing unusual -which 
 makes him late this 'New Year's evening, 
 and he is usually so punctual in taking 
 Marie her ^otage every night." 
 
 ''I thought," said Etienne, "that I 
 saw him a little while ago behind those 
 chesnuts. His food will be cold, and we 
 shall have finished before he begins." 
 
 " Oh ! what is the matter ?" exclaimed 
 Martha, as her son entered. " Look at 
 Eaynald's face. Has anything happened?" 
 ■ " Speak I has anything happened to 
 any of the children ?" exclaimed Madeleine. 
 
 " ISTo, not that," replied Eaynald, with 
 emotion. " Our temple has been destroyed. 
 It is burning now; its very stones are 
 broken, it is one mass of wreck and ruin," 
 continued he, burstmg into tears.
 
 NEW YEAe's evening. 87 
 
 The whole family were prostrated by 
 tliis sudden blow, and nothing but sighs 
 and lamentations could be heard in the 
 room. 
 
 '' Children, children 1" said Rodolphe, 
 ''look up to heaven, and weep not. God 
 dwells not in temples made with hands, nor 
 is his presence confined to walls or rooms. 
 He is near us here. Let us feel his presence, 
 and his peace will outweigh our trials. ' In 
 everything give thanks,' says the apostle, 
 and this includes adversity as well as pros- 
 perity. ' There be many that say. Who will 
 show us any good ? Lord, lift thou up 
 the hght of thy comitenance upon us.' " 
 
 " But," said Etienne, sobbing bitterly, 
 " shall we have no temple to go to on 
 Sunday ? What will Barba Lcger do if 
 his pulpit is gone ? Oh, how cruel it must 
 be of them to take away our churches ! 
 How wicked of the Duke ; I would tell 
 him so if I could speak to him." 
 
 " No, my child, the Duke has not done
 
 88 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 it, and ]3erhaps knows nothing of it. It 
 is the act of a few persons, I should 
 think, who have been urged on by the mis- 
 sionary monks, who are always trying to 
 embroil us." 
 
 '' But they have their own churches," 
 continued the boy, whose feelings were 
 not to be quieted with calm reasonings. 
 " There is a church opposite ours. When 
 I passed once, I heard a bell, and I peeped 
 in, and saw lighted candles, and men 
 bowing in all sorts of strange ways. "Will 
 they have their churches, and shan't we 
 have ours ?" 
 
 " Alas, they will. Some years ago there 
 were no other churches here but our own, 
 but the council of Turin has established 
 convents everywhere ; and now, on this 
 blessed soil, which has been so long free 
 and unpolluted, Eome has got places of 
 worship, to teach error and promote 
 discord." 
 
 ''Oh, it's very strange," said the bo}^,'
 
 NEW tear's evening. 
 
 brushing away liis falling tears, " tliey 
 seem sucli different people to wliat we 
 read of in tlie Bible. Do you think, grand- 
 father, that good man, Daniel, would have 
 done the same things ?" 
 
 '' No, I do not ; all force is contrary to 
 a religion which demands the heart, and 
 comes from a God of love. We must never 
 act like wicked men in order to bring 
 people to Chidst ; the wi^ath of man can 
 never work the righteousness of God." 
 
 " Then all these men, with their dark 
 faces, and long brovm dresses, what are 
 they — are they the monks ?" 
 
 ''Yes, missionary monks, sent to j)reach 
 and to intermeddle in everything possible, 
 so as to produce distrust, and prejudice 
 the Duke against us." 
 
 '' Perhaps they have burnt our temple ; 
 and I am sure they ought not, for ours was 
 so very plain. I saw all sorts of pictures 
 and statues in theirs ; why have not w^e the 
 same ?"
 
 90 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 "Because the second commandment 
 forbids it." 
 
 " But doesn't it forbid tliem as 
 weU !" 
 
 '' It does, but tliey leave it out." 
 
 '' Then they haven't ten command- 
 ments/' said the boy, who in the sweet 
 fickleness of childhood had, for the moment, 
 forgotten his grief. 
 
 "To make up ten, they divide the tenth 
 into two ; and in the same way they don't 
 mind the fourth, which tells us to keep the 
 Sabbath holy, but they say, ' Keep the fes- 
 tivals holy.' You know we cannot work 
 when it is a saint's day in the Eomish 
 Calendar, and this makes us lose a great 
 many days." 
 
 " We seem to like work better than they 
 do," said Etienne, " for whilst we are in 
 the fields we see many of them running 
 about in fine dresses, and when they come 
 to a cross, or a picture with a light before 
 it on the road side, they kneel down and
 
 NEW year's evening. 91 
 
 cross themselves. Did God tell them to 
 do this ?" 
 
 " ISTo, my child, but fetch me my Bible ; 
 stop, never mind, there's dear Ardoine 
 brino'inof it." 
 
 '• Children," said Eodolphe, addressing 
 his sons and daughters, who were bewaihng 
 their loss among themselves, "let us conclude 
 the day which began brightly, but whose 
 close a cloud has darkened ; let us conclude 
 it with the Word of God and prayer. 
 The events of this evening are a sad com- 
 ment on the words I spake to you this 
 morning. My heart is full and heavy. In 
 that pulpit, my daughters, I preached well 
 nigh threescore years ago. When I was 
 the only pastor of our valley who survived 
 the plague I did not desert that church, and 
 it is now a ruin, and yonder sky is coloured 
 by its glowing embers." 
 
 '' Ah, Paul, thou wast right to remind 
 us that we are but strangers here, for they 
 have destroyed even the houses of God in
 
 92 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 the land. Let us once more, my cliildren, 
 betake ourselves to Him wlio is a liiding- 
 place from tlie storm, wlio can cover us 
 with his feathers, and keep us safe in his 
 secret habitation." 
 
 Rodolphe then read in a trembling 
 voice the following verses, which touched 
 the hearts of all the afflicted worshippers : — 
 
 '' God is our refuge and strength, a 
 very joresent help in trouble. Therefore 
 will not we fear, though the earth be 
 removed, and though the mountains be 
 carried into the midst of the sea ; though 
 the waters thereof roar and be troubled, 
 though the mountains shake with the swel- 
 ling thereof Selah. ***** 
 Come, behold the works of the Lord, what 
 desolations he hath made in the earth. 
 He maketh wars to cease unto the end of 
 the earth ; he breaketh the bow, and 
 cutteth the spear in sunder ; he burneth 
 the chariot in the fire. Be still, and know
 
 NEW YEAR S EVENING. 93 
 
 that I am God : I will be exalted among 
 tlie heathen, I will be exalted in the earth. 
 The Lord of hosts is with ns ; the God of 
 Jacob is om' refuge. Selah." (Psalm 
 xlvi. 1—3; 8—11.) 
 
 The old man then gave his family his 
 patriarchal blessing, and retired to rest.
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 THE FEMALE PEOPAGANDA. 
 
 In an ancient palace overlooking tlie Piazza 
 Castello at Turin, a small party of ladies 
 were assembled. Ttieir fashionable dress 
 and noble mien indicated tliat tliey were 
 persons of rank. It was evident from their 
 serious countenances, and the pens, ink, and 
 paper wliicli lay on tlie table round wliicli 
 tliey were seated, that the}^ had not met for 
 the purpose of amusement, but to transact im- 
 portant business. Oneto whom the otherspaid 
 marked deference presided. Her dress, of the 
 richest quality, was proftisely ornamented, 
 and contrasted strangely with her haggard 
 eye, the symptom of disease and care.
 
 THE FEMALE TKOPAGAXDA. 95 
 
 ''My ladies," said she, ''we liave met 
 to give in our weekly report, and to see 
 what progress the cause of the Holy Faith 
 makes in our hands. Let us not flag in 
 zeal, but show the world what women can 
 do for the suppression of heresy, for we 
 form the female branch of the Congregatio 
 de irropagandd Fide, et exthyandis Hcere- 
 ticis.'' 
 
 "Let us hear first," said the Mar- 
 chioness of Angrogna, " what the noble 
 President herself has done." 
 
 "My strength is not equal to my will," 
 rephed the Marchioness of Pianesse, "for 
 I have felt the attacks of an old complaint, 
 which has often threatened my life. Still 
 I have endeavoured to carry out the deci- 
 sions of the Council, as agreed at our pre- 
 vious meetings." 
 
 "I thought," said the Coimtess of 
 Lucerna, " I saw your Grace bent on some 
 labour of love last week m the Borgo Dora, 
 with your purse in your hand."
 
 96 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 " Ladies," continued tlie President, wlio 
 spake -with some difficulty, ''you remember 
 tliat we divided Turin and its neiglibour- 
 liood into districts, and arranged that eacli 
 sliould visit their district twice a- week to 
 collect tlie alms of tlie faithful. Owing to 
 my illness I have not been at my post more 
 than once this week. I have, however, 
 canvassed all those low cabarets which lie 
 near the river Dora, and I must confess 
 that I was surprised at my favourable 
 reception. I went boldly into the taverns, 
 and, holding out my purse, demanded a 
 piece of money for the maintenance of the 
 faith, and the suppression of heresy." 
 
 '' I wonder at your moral courage. Mar- 
 chioness," replied a lady at the further end 
 of the table, '' I feel as if I dare not ven- 
 tfure into those dens." 
 
 '' Remember for whom you are workmg. 
 The Virgin will protect you and reward you 
 hereafter. Where did you go. Duchess ?" 
 
 '' I went into the gambling-houses over-
 
 THE FE:\rALE PROPAGANDA. 97 
 
 looking the Po, and asked alms from the 
 maddened players for the conversion of 
 souls. I think some of them knew me, 
 having seen me at Cornet, for they were civil 
 enough, and one swore he hoped we should 
 destroy that brood of heretics m the ad- 
 joining valleys." 
 
 ''The Virgin grant it!" said the Mar- 
 chioness. "It is of little moment to win 
 over individuals when there is that reser- 
 voir of heresy in those mountains. I must 
 speak to the Marquis, and see if the secular 
 arm will not aid us ; I think the govern- 
 ment would give us an edict or two to serve 
 our purpose." 
 
 ''I feel sure it would," replied the 
 Duchess of Montafon, '' for Madame 
 Eoyale has her heart in this matter, and 
 she can mould the Duke. I think we 
 should stir them up to enforce the edict of 
 Gastaldo of the 15th of May, 1650, and 
 try its effect." 
 
 *' We must leave the political part of 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 it to our liusbands, and tlie council of 
 state ; besides, our branch council, under 
 tlie guidance of the Arclibisliop and the 
 Marquis, will not forget this." 
 
 "Don't you think, Marchioness," said 
 the Countess of Bagnol, " that we ought 
 to supply the missionary monks in the 
 valleys with more means of charity ? 
 There has been a great deal of famine 
 there, and when the heretics are starving 
 we have fine scope for conversions — 
 starving people cannot resist bread, and 
 they would accept it upon the terms of 
 going to mass." 
 
 " I think the idea is good, but we have 
 tried it, and I confess with very little suc- 
 cess. Two years ago the convents were 
 stocked with every article needed, and 
 relief given only to those who would swear 
 to go to mass, but the ruse succeeded with a 
 mere handful." 
 
 "The obstinacy of these heretics is 
 amazing," said the Countess of Lucerna,
 
 THE FEMALE PROPAG.VNDA. 99 
 
 with a sigli ; '' tliey lose tlieir property, 
 their homes, their hves, and all is offered 
 to them again, with every privilege, if they 
 will but reform, and yet they will not." 
 
 '^ It shows it must be the work of the 
 devil," said the Marchioness, ''for it ap- 
 pears as if our Holy Father himself had no 
 power to exorcise them." 
 
 ''Where have you been, Countess ?" 
 '' I have been through the prisons, 
 collecting alms for the general fund, test- 
 ing the prisoners, and promising release to 
 any of the pretended reformed faith who 
 would become Catholics ; but, to be candid, 
 I doubt whether I found three or four 
 Protestants amons; the number." 
 
 " I tell you what I will suggest to the 
 Marquis," said the president; ''if he has 
 to execute the Church's vengeance, and the 
 secular arm is used, he would find many 
 valuable allies in the prisons, and we should 
 have no difficulty in opening the prison 
 doors."
 
 100 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 '^jN"o; a plenary indulgence is pro- 
 mised to all who engage in this lioly work, 
 and assuredly many of these poor fellows 
 need it ! After all, their crimes, horrible 
 as they are, are not so execrable as that of 
 heresy." 
 
 '' There is one convert I hope to 
 win," said the lady president; ''he is a 
 young man from the valleys in France ; he 
 was engaged in speculations, and is under 
 arrest ; I could see by the despair on his 
 countenance, when he thought of his wife 
 and children, that he is on the brink of 
 ruin. We have him regularly in our power, 
 and I offered to free him from all legal 
 proceedings if he would become a Catholic. 
 He seemed to waver when I reminded him 
 of the misery which was hanging over his 
 family, and how easily he might be restored 
 to comfort." 
 
 '' I have been thinking over your plan. 
 Marchioness," said the Countess of Bagnol, 
 '' about sending some of our agents as
 
 thl: female propaganda. loi 
 
 servants among tlie Yaudois. I think it 
 offers man J advantages. The servant would 
 be able, in a hundred little ways, to instil 
 our principles into the minds of the chil- 
 dren, to prejudice them against their creed, 
 and besides we could take advantage of any 
 divisions in the family ; she could set the 
 daughter against her mother, and the 
 mother against the daughter ; and, surely, 
 if we could sow some family dissensions, 
 the Church might reap her haiwest." 
 
 "The suggestion is excellent, and 
 worthy of a trial, and I will make the experi- 
 ment in a family in the Yalley of Lucerna, of 
 which my confessor, the Abbot of Pignerol, 
 has been telling me. It is a peculiar 
 family, for six brothers have married six 
 sisters, and they live together without 
 division of property, and mthout discord, 
 numbering, with their children, upwards 
 of forty persons." 
 
 *' That would be a glorious field ; there 
 must, surely, be some among that number
 
 102 THE SIX SISTEES OE THE VALLEYS. 
 
 not so obstinate ; at any rate, we conld not 
 liave better scope for the trial of tliis holy 
 artifice." 
 
 '* I hate those Pharisees, I think they're 
 called, who affect to be over-righteous," 
 said the Countess of Lucerna, drawing her- 
 self up with stately pomp. " Their conduct 
 and manner of talking seem to be a per- 
 petual reproach to our Holy Church, and 
 I highly approve of the last suggestion." 
 
 '' Do you know of any one who would 
 suit?" asked the Marchioness of An- 
 grogna, speaking in a low tone to her next 
 neighbour. 
 
 ''There is a woman," replied the 
 Duchess of Montafon, ''in the dungeons 
 of the castle, who would answer; she is 
 under sentence of death for the murder of 
 her husband, who detected her short- 
 comings ; but I can liberate her if I speak 
 to the Duke, and tell him she is wanted for 
 the service of the Holy Church. She is a 
 clever woman, and withal of bland and
 
 THE TEMALE TEOPAGAXDA. 103 
 
 winning manners. She appears to be tlie 
 very instrument." 
 
 " But would she be ready to accept the 
 terms ? Perhaps her conscience might 
 object." 
 
 ''Conscience object! Why, Marchioness, 
 you are talking nonsense. If your con- 
 science and mine do not object, I think the 
 conscience of a murderess need not be so 
 scrupulous. Besides, it's for the Church, 
 and you know what our confessor told us 
 was Cardinal Bellarmine's dictum, ' that 
 the end justifies the means.' " 
 
 "You silence me with your quota- 
 tion. You know I am no theologian, and 
 leave the schools to the priests. I want 
 to work out my salvation, and if my 
 reverend father approves, I will join heart 
 and hand in any good work for the benefit 
 of others." 
 
 ''I think I have a friend," said the 
 Marchioness of Pianesse aloud, '' who will 
 accept the office for the good of her soul.
 
 104 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 and the glory of tlie Ciiurcli. I will per- 
 suade her to undertake the matter." 
 
 '' You know," continued she, speaking 
 aside in a lower tone to her neighbour, 
 '' we ought to be diligent in the Church's 
 service. Eemember a plenary indulgence 
 is promised to all engaged in the holy work 
 of suppressing heresy; and I think, be- 
 tween you and me, that there are several 
 of us who need this plenary absolution, at 
 least I confess I do. I know I have much 
 to answer for when I look at the past, 
 and my only hope is, that during the 
 short time I have to live, my zeal may 
 atone for the faults of my early life. If 
 I could help to cleanse Italy from the 
 blot of heresy, my conscience would have 
 more peace." 
 
 " You are severe upon yourself," inter- 
 posed the Countess ; "we need not allude 
 to the past ; whatever we have been, and 
 we all know the laxity of the times, we 
 received absolution from the moment
 
 THE FEMALE PROPAGANDA. 105 
 
 that we became members of tliis lioly 
 council." 
 
 '' Ladies," continued the Marchioness, 
 in a languid voice, ''I think the dispersion 
 of the missionary monks through the val- 
 ley, and the cantonment of troops, will 
 produce good fruit. The establishment of 
 a Monte di Pieta is excellent. In this time 
 of distress the loan of wheat, and provisions, 
 and garments has been a real boon. If 
 any one accepts anything it is easy to press 
 more on them, and when they are deeply 
 in our debt we threaten ruin or the 
 mass." 
 
 '' Capital," exclaimed all the ladies to- 
 gether, "your invention. Marchioness, on 
 behalf of the Church, is happily conse- 
 crated to the noblest object." 
 
 "If," continued the Marchioness, "they 
 will come over to the true Church, then 
 we remit all their past debts, give them a 
 large sum, and free them from all taxes, 
 imposts, and exactions, for the space of
 
 106 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 five years, witli an increased time, if tliej 
 sliow themselves zealons in tlie cause." 
 
 '' Have yon seen any fruit from tlie 
 family spy to wliom you were alluding?" 
 asked one of tlie younger ladies. 
 
 '' I tliink so ; she has artfully embroiled 
 a young married couple of the pretended 
 reformed faith, and they are going to law 
 with each other; so we shall be able to 
 ruin them, or to turn the verdict in favour 
 of the one who will abjure." 
 
 '' You said, Marchioness, you have a 
 friend who would go into a Yaudois family. 
 How can you introduce her among them ?" 
 
 " Oh, that is easily done ; for we need 
 not say who she is. You know they have 
 ^ soldiers there, and we can either billet her 
 on a family, or send her with a medical 
 certificate for change of air, or get the 
 Duke to write an order requesting them to 
 lodge her, as a proof of loyalty." 
 
 '' Ha, ha ! commend me to the Mar- 
 chioness of Pianesse for ways and means."
 
 THE FEMALE PROPAGANDA. . 107 
 
 " Oil ! but here is a better idea — she can 
 represent herself as an inquirer, as one who 
 was a Catholic, but has met with a Vaudois 
 at Tui'in, and wants more instruction in 
 the reformed faith. This will be a regular 
 appeal to their prejudices, and will be done 
 gently, without disturbance." 
 
 '' What a field she will have ! AYhat do 
 you say? Six brothers married to six sisters. 
 Why, really, it's a lovely pastoral, worthy 
 of an eclogue ; it is almost a pity to mar 
 such a scene, which would elicit one of 
 Petrarch's sonnets. Would they were 
 Cathohcs ! but they are heretics, and as 
 such are doomed to everlasting ruin by 
 the Yicar of Christ and the Greneral Coun- 
 cils. Nought but blood csin bring rehef, I 
 suppose, nor blot out the stain. We must, 
 however, labour for their salvation ; and 
 may the Virgin grant us good success !" 
 
 After the discussion of some minor 
 details, the council of missionary ladies 
 separated.
 
 108 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 '^ Oil, my soul, come not thou in tlieir 
 secret; unto tlieir assembly, mine honour 
 be not tliou united ; for their words 
 are softer than oil, yet be they drawn 
 swords."
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE MAECHIONESS. 
 
 The Marchioness of Pianesse, after anotlier 
 consultation witli her confessor, Malvicino, 
 did not delay bringing the proposition 
 before her niece, lolande, whom she con- 
 sidered suitable for the purpose, and over 
 whom she had always exercised considerable 
 influence. 
 
 '' The comicil of ladies belonging to the 
 Propaganda," said the Marchioness, ad- 
 dressing her niece, " has lately met, and we 
 all feel the necessity of increased devotion 
 to our holy work, to efface from om' land 
 the stain of heresy. A plan was discussed 
 at our last meeting, in which I think you
 
 110 THE SIX SISTEES OP THE VALLEYS. 
 
 can lielp us ; you will, I am sure, be glad 
 to labour for tlie glorj of God, and tlie 
 good of your own soul." 
 
 " I shall feel it a privilege, aunt, to assist 
 your efforts for tlie lioly cause by any means 
 tliat lie witliin my humble power." 
 
 '' I have spoken to my confessor, Mal- 
 vicino, who suggested the plan. We pro- 
 pose that you should enter a Waldensian 
 family, in order to convert some of them. 
 I know it may be a trial to your feel- 
 ings to live in a farm, but it will be only 
 for a short time, and you will not mind a 
 little self-sacrifice for the good of the 
 Church. Our history is full of noble prece- 
 dents of self-renunciation. So go in among 
 them, sow suspicions and jealousies, fan 
 every elem-cnt of discord. Mould the minds 
 of the young children, and familiarize them 
 with the names of the Catholic saints, and 
 your efforts, under the Virgin's blessing, 
 I doubt not will bring forth good fruit." 
 
 ''But I am afraid, aunt, I am hardly
 
 THE MAECHIONESS. Ill 
 
 suited to sucli a task. It would require a 
 great deal of tact, and knowledge of charac- 
 ter. Your proposal indeed takes me so 
 mucli by surprise that you must excuse my 
 hesitation." 
 
 " I hope it is not the fear of self-sacri- 
 fice that keeps you back ; nothing great or 
 good can be done without self-forgetM zeal." 
 
 "I trust that is not my motive; but 
 the idea is so new to me, that I shrink 
 within myself at the contemplation of its 
 difficulties." 
 
 ''You must pray to the Mother of God 
 for help, and I am sure it will be granted." 
 
 " Well, but aunt, the first point is to 
 know where I am to go. Have you any 
 particular place in your mind ?" 
 
 "I think so. I have heard of a most 
 peculiar family, offering us a fine field 
 for conversions. It is composed of six 
 brothers married to six sisters, Kving to- 
 gether in Arcadian style, numbering with 
 their children over forty persons."
 
 112 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 *' But I'm afraid they will be suspicious, 
 and not receive me," replied lolande. 
 
 " You must profess to be dissatisfied 
 with the Catholic religion, and having met 
 a Yaudois traveller at Turin, you want to 
 hear more about their creed, — and once in, 
 you know what we do at Court ; you can en- 
 tangle some young man, I think, can't you?" 
 
 " No, no, aunt, I am not so skilled in 
 playing fast and loose with the young men," 
 replied the girl, blushing, fearing lest her 
 attachment to the son of the Marchioness 
 might be discovered. 
 
 "Again, you know there are many 
 bands of robbers about, and your father's 
 estates are not far from Cavour, you can 
 act as our ancestors did nearly a hundred 
 years ago, in the time of the Count de la 
 Trinite, and take refuge among them to 
 preserve your honour." 
 
 '' Did they do this in the last century ? 
 I wonder our people were not afraid to 
 trust themselves among the heretics."
 
 THE MAECHIONESS. 113 
 
 '' 'No fear of that ; tliej treated tliem 
 like sisters, there was not one of them 
 insulted ; we could not trust them in La 
 Tour, although it was fall of the Catholic 
 soldiers of the cross." 
 
 ''That's strange, aunt, and if we are to 
 judge of them by their fruits, it seems to 
 speak rather well for the practical effect of 
 heresy." 
 
 " Hush ! don't speak in that way. Om* 
 confessor would say that smells of heresy. 
 The infallible Church stoops not to argue 
 nor inquire. We demand imphcit faith, 
 and then all is well." 
 
 " I have been brought up in the 
 Church," said lolande, "but I don't much 
 like this commission ; my conscience does 
 not approve of deliberately sowing discord 
 among such brethren. This cannot surely 
 be right." 
 
 "It's for their souls' good, my dear, as 
 well as for ours ; the Bible, my confessor 
 told me, says that the mother shall be set 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 against lier daughter, and the daughter-in- 
 law against her mother-in-law, and that 
 Christ came to make a man's foes those of 
 his own household ; so you need not fear, 
 for you will go with the authority of the 
 Church." 
 
 " I don't much like it, aunt, my natural 
 feelings are against it." 
 
 "A plenary indulgence is promised to 
 all who engage in the work, and admit- 
 ting that we stretch a moral point in what 
 we do, a dispensation from Eome will 
 make all right. Consider how long those 
 people have been a thorn in our eyes. 
 Pope after Pope has endeavoured to uproot 
 them, yet they still cling to their rocks. 
 They send out their proselytisers every- 
 where. They boast of greater antiquity 
 than we do. They say that their doctrine 
 has come down in an unbroken chain from 
 the apostles themselves, and that they hold 
 the primitive truth uncorrupt, that they 
 differ from the reformed chm^ches in Ger-
 
 THE MAECHIONESS. 115 
 
 maiiT, because tliey liave never been re- 
 formed. Think of tliese insults. They 
 quote their eternal Bible to prove that we 
 are Anticlmst, and even on the rack and 
 in death they hold fast their doctrines with 
 the most pertinacious obstinacy. Oh think, 
 will you not help, if you can do anything 
 in the holy cause, anything to wipe away 
 om' reproach ?" 
 
 " Your statements, aunt, are m^gent, 
 and if so weak an instrument as I can sub- 
 serve the cause of truth, I feel that my 
 duty is to obey." 
 
 '' It is, to obey those who have the 
 sph^tual rule over you. Besides, consider 
 the effect on your o^vn soul. Such a work 
 as this makes yom^ own salvation more 
 certain, and if you feel any repugnance to 
 the work, there is greater merit in over- 
 coming your natural aversion, and sacri- 
 ficing your conscience and the dictates of 
 yom^ private judgment for the sake of the 
 welfare of the Holy Catholic and Apostohc
 
 116 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 Cliurcli. Eemember our principles — tlie 
 end justifies tlie means, faith is not to be 
 kept witli heretics, and that good is your 
 object. Besides, a dispensation will make 
 all right, for Bellarmine says, that a sin 
 would cease to be a sin if the Pope so 
 decrees it. Go, therefore, niece, to your 
 work of faith and labour of love." 
 
 ''If the Church commands me," said 
 lolande, " I will do what I can in that 
 family, and I hope the blessed Virgin will 
 look favourably on my weak efforts, and 
 enable me to follow your zeal for the pro- 
 pagation of the faith and the extirpation of 
 heresy." 
 
 " May the Virgin grant it, my beloved 
 lolande," said the Marchioness, kissing her 
 on the forehead.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 lOLANDE. 
 
 loLAXDE found no difficulty in introducing 
 herself to tlie hospitable circle at La Bau- 
 dene, whose loyalty and religious feelings 
 inclined them to attach credit to her state- 
 ment, without scrutinizing her motives. 
 She was kindly received by all the inmates, 
 and by her bland and studied manners soon 
 won her way into the family, more credulous 
 because themselves incapable of hypocrisy 
 or guile. As she conjectured that her 
 success would be greatest among the young, 
 she took every means of ingratiating herself 
 with Ardoine. From her she learned the 
 various details about the family, their cha- 
 racters, and personal pecuharities.
 
 118 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 Having been bronglit up at Turin, she 
 had acquired what is called knowledge of 
 the world, and the art of dissembling, but 
 she found it difficult perpetually to wear the 
 mask before Ardoine, whose artless sin- 
 cerity and transparency of motive often 
 marred her best-concerted plans. 
 
 She attentively studied Raynald's dis- 
 position. His simphcity of character, his 
 impulsive temper, his religious yearnings 
 formed a phase of human nature which 
 she had not observed elsewhere. With 
 woman's insight she speedily discerned 
 the secret of his heart; and though she 
 loved another, and cared not to win him 
 for herself, she nevertheless determined to 
 avail herself of this knowledge as affording 
 material for future intrigue. 
 
 The farm of La Baudene offered a wide 
 scope for the machinations of Eome. A 
 family so large and united was a rare moral 
 spectacle ; enough for Rome's anger to know 
 that its members were heretics. To them.
 
 lOLAXDE. 119 
 
 according to tlie Papal exposition, cliap. 
 xiii. 1 Corinthians liad no application. The 
 Church would be more glorified in marring 
 this moral loveliness than m producing like 
 fruits in her otqi circle. But, thanks to 
 the goodness and affection of the sisters, 
 lolande's casual insinuations produced no 
 injurious effect. She was therefore more 
 assiduous to impress the younger members 
 of the family. When she walked with the 
 children she would narrate legends and 
 miracles of the Romish saints, and with the 
 proverbial zeal of Jesuitism neglected no 
 opportunity of artfully tampering with the 
 principles or tempers of her young disciples. 
 After patient manoeuvres, she succeeded in 
 fomenting a quarrel between Bertin and 
 Yalere, which was a source of sorrow to 
 all, and, fi^om its rare occurrence, was more 
 keenly felt by the parents ; but she carried 
 out her plans with such secrecy and tact 
 that the household did not suspect the cha- 
 racter of their guest. Unremitting in her
 
 120 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 iittentions to Rodolplie, slie would even read 
 to liim liis portions of Scripture, and not 
 being naturally of an evil disposition, many 
 of the passages fell upon lier lieart with, 
 their native force, and caused her conscience 
 to tremble with self-accusation. She had, 
 however, gone too far to recede. She was 
 compromised with Malvicino, and when her 
 moral sense rebelled against the use of un- 
 holy artifices for the interests of the Church, 
 she stifled her misgivings by the assurance 
 that she was labouring for the Virgin and 
 for the promotion of her ovfn salvation. It 
 is written, " Yea, the time cometh that who- 
 soever killeth you will think that he doeth 
 God service." 
 
 She communicated regularly with Mal- 
 vicino and the Marchioness, who exhorted 
 her by every motive to carry on the holy 
 work of promoting discord among heretics. 
 
 There was another feeling which ere 
 long touched her woman's heart, and which 
 more than her religious feeling urged the
 
 lOLANDE. 121 
 
 accomplisliment of her mission. It Tvas 
 jealousy of Ardoine. She could not look 
 upon that sunny brow and cloudless eye 
 wfthout a pang of envy, and yet the rank- 
 ling feeling was excited not so much by 
 Ardoine' s beauty as by that nameless grace, 
 that winning artlessness, that simplicity 
 of manner, which invested her as with a 
 moral halo, and shone in her most trifling 
 act or speech. In beauty Ardoine was, 
 perhaps, hardly her rival, but in moral 
 character she was vastly her superior. This 
 lolande involuntarily acknowledged, when 
 she contrasted her wilful designs with the 
 guileless freedom of the mountain girl. 
 
 Eaynald, notwithstanding his impulsive- 
 ness, was not destitute of observation of 
 character, and from the first had looked 
 upon her with no special favour. lolande 
 soon perceived this, and was, therefore, 
 more assiduous in plying him with artful 
 questions about different points of faith, 
 and in asking: for refutations of the Romish
 
 122 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 errors. She listened attentively, and spoke 
 in a way to captivate tlie vanity of tlie 
 young man, wlio would have been more than 
 human had he disdained the incense, ^e 
 was, however, drifting to a result different 
 from her coldly-matured plans. In spite of 
 herself, and notwithstanding a previous at- 
 tachment, she became insensibly interested 
 in Eaynald. The rough sincerity of his 
 character, his inaccessibility, his disregard of 
 those arts with which men approach women, 
 this made his conquest more piquant — to 
 one who had lived in the gaiety of cities, 
 and had been the sought and not the 
 seeker. But more than all, she enjoyed the 
 prospective triumph of robbing Ardoine of 
 her lover, which would be a gratification to 
 her womanly vanity, and a stroke of policy 
 on behalf of the Holy Church.
 
 ** PuUies had been fixed in the beams of the ceiling, from which descended 
 seTeral ropes, supporting in the air an antique couch." 
 
 Page 123.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE DEATH-BED. 
 
 Our scene is laid once more in the spacious 
 tapestried apartment wliere the female Pro- 
 paganda had met a few weeks before. The 
 arrangements of the room had been altered 
 in the most extraordinary manner. Pullies 
 had been fixed in the great transverse 
 beams of the ceiling, from which descended 
 several ropes, supporting in the air an 
 antique couch, richly decorated and sur- 
 mounted by a gilded coronet. In this 
 strange aerial bed lay a woman, not much 
 past middle age, but now struggling with 
 death. A restless and fierce expression 
 shone in her eyes, which glowed in her
 
 124 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 liollow cheeks, wan from suffering and want 
 of sleep. After an interval of silence a 
 paroxysm of misery darkened her coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 " Oh, the fire, the fire," she screamed, 
 '' save me from the flames ; they surround 
 me on every side." 
 
 '^ Lift up my bed, pull it up higher ; it's 
 on fire, it's on fire. I feel the grasp of the 
 flame. Can you not hear me, you accursed 
 minx?" said she, addressing her nurse. 
 *' Pull the ropes, hoist me up higher — to 
 the ceiling — higher." 
 
 " Alas !" sobbed the aged woman 
 in a corner of the room, '' to think 
 that my darling mistress, whom I was 
 the first to nurse, should have come to 
 this." 
 
 "Do you hear ?" screamed the sufferer. 
 " I tell you the flames are underneath my 
 bed ; why don't you help me ? Hoist up 
 the bed. You don't lift me out, nor bring 
 me water. I feel the fire. A curse on
 
 THE DEATH-BED. 125 
 
 jour T^4the^ed cheeks. Holy Madonna, 
 water, water from heaven." 
 
 " Take off those rats," continued the 
 apparent maniac, after a pause; ''I feel 
 them gnawing me. Oh, they are running 
 over me." 
 
 '^Take them off. Oh, how I suffer! 
 Was it in this room that I sat as the pre- 
 sident of that blessed Council for the extir- 
 pation of heresy ? I am dying ; I am 
 dying ; and the bitterness of the flame adds 
 to the pangs of unwelcome death." 
 
 The servant, anxious to soothe the 
 frantic paroxysm of her mistress, tightened 
 the ropes, and raised the bed six or eight 
 feet from the ground, until its canopy 
 touched the ceiling. As she was fastening 
 the cord a side door opened, and four per- 
 sons entered. One, who was the husband 
 of the sufferer, approached the bed, and 
 beckoned to the attendant to lower it to the 
 floor. He was dressed in the uniform of a 
 general. His demeanour was soft, but yet
 
 126 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 the subtle cunning in tliat eye pronounced 
 his, manners to be the schooled hypocrisy of 
 Jesuitism. His companion was an officer 
 in the army, in the prime of life. His dark 
 eyes flashed from under his high forehead 
 with an ingenuous daring arguing nobility 
 of soul. The third was an ecclesiastic of 
 high rank, whose dress betokened his con- 
 nection with the Papal Court. 
 
 The confessor, a monk of low, stout 
 stature and sensual aspect, was the last of 
 the group. 
 
 "Marquis," said the Marchioness, anti- 
 cipating him, '' I am in agony ; I feel as if 
 I were devoured by rats, and then as if 
 flames of fire were burning me in the bed. 
 I have had it slung in the air, but the fiend 
 haunts me still. The holy oil with which 
 our confessor has anointed me has brought 
 no ease, nor yet this blessed crucifix. I 
 sufi'er the pains of hell in body and mind." 
 " Marchesa," replied the general, 
 " there is not a better Catholic than you
 
 THE DEATH-BED. 127 
 
 in Italy ; you liave done enough to merit 
 heaven without the intercession of St. 
 Francis or St. Dominic, or any other saint 
 in the calendar." 
 
 " jlSTay, you mock me. I feel that I 
 have done nothing to what I might have 
 done." 
 
 '' N'o woman in Italy has done more. 
 Have you not established the Holy Office 
 of the Propaganda at Tm^in, and presided 
 at its female branch ?" 
 
 '' But I feel that I have not done 
 enough ; my conscience upbraids me. Oh, 
 but I would give my broad acres on the 
 Mincio to die in peace like the poor vine- 
 dresser, and to have a good hope of the 
 kingdom of heaven." 
 
 '' Illness hath overcome you. The abso- 
 lution of our confessor should soothe your 
 spirit, having shortened your time in pur- 
 gatory." 
 
 "On his absolution I lean as a true 
 Catholic, but death tests us strangely.
 
 128 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 There is one pious act wliicli my conscience 
 urges, and wliicli as deatli rests upon me I 
 will not delay. Take tliis key, Pianesse, 
 unlock my cabinet, and bring me what is in 
 the second drawer on the left." 
 
 The Marquis did as requested, and 
 lifting out a large velvet bag, he brought it 
 to the Marchioness, who, stretching out her 
 hand, drew it to her, and clasped it as it 
 lay on the bed. 
 
 " Marquis, I have long toiled to exter- 
 minate heresy. In vain have I endeavoured 
 to uproot those rebels in the valleys near to 
 Pignerol. For this object I have collected 
 the alms of the faithftil, to which I have 
 added a large portion of my own dowry. 
 Take this bag, Pianesse; in it there are 
 6000 pistoles, besides some jewels, and 
 promise me, as to a dying woman, that you 
 will use this sum for the extirpation of these 
 accursed heretics in the valleys of the 
 Alps." 
 . '' I swear it by the Holy Mass. Ptest
 
 THE DEATH-BED. 129 
 
 in peace. I will conyert the infernal brood, 
 or blackened homesteads and bloody hearths 
 shall prove the sincerity of my efforts." 
 
 '' Thanks, Pianesse. My conscience 
 needs appeasing. This blood will cleanse 
 it from some stains. Take the money as 
 my death tribute, as blood money, for which 
 you are pledged to turn those three valleys 
 into an Aceldama, unless the people go to 
 mass, and adore our Immaculate Virgin. 
 Count the money, and see that you have 
 the full sum in gold, so that heaven may 
 hold you responsible for the deed." 
 
 '' Is that Echard whom I see there ?" 
 asked the Marchioness, turning towards the 
 young officer. 
 
 '' It is, mother ; I mourn to see you thus 
 suffering, and trust the Virgin may restore 
 you to health. I have just returned from 
 Rome, where I saw our holy father, Inno- 
 cent X., and have brought his Apostolic 
 blessing to the Duke, and to those who aid 
 him." 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 "I receive it with thankfulness/' said the 
 Marchioness, crossing herself. " Echard, 
 tell the Marquis to come near, for I feel the 
 struggle approaching." 
 
 The Marquis advanced to the bed, and 
 looked upon his wife's face as it became 
 alternately livid and pale. '' Holy Virgin," 
 said he, bending on one knee, and holding 
 the bag of gold in his hand, " help me to 
 fulfil the death- wish of thy servant. Yes," 
 exclaimed he, rising to his feet, " I will root 
 up those apostates who stain the holy soil of 
 Italy. The Police shall run with blood, and 
 the stones of La Tour become crimsoned, so 
 that the river shall not cleanse them, before 
 I will flinch from the execution of this 
 solemn charge." 
 
 ''Wife," said the Marquis, ''here is 
 Gastaldo, the Papal delegate. We will 
 begin now to carry out your wishes." 
 
 " My Lord, bring hither your parchment. 
 Here is an edict ordering all those outside 
 the three main valleys to quit their homes in
 
 THE DEATH-BED. 131 
 
 three days, under tlie penalty of confiscation 
 of goods and of death, unless tliey attend 
 mass. I think that is a move in the right 
 direction." 
 
 A faint smile passed over the dying 
 woman's featm-es, and she moved her lips 
 to express assent. 
 
 " Quick, E chard, fetch that table, with 
 the pen and ink. Look, Marchioness, this 
 deed will turn thousands out of their homes 
 in tliis wintry month, and must brhig forth 
 fruit. He shall sign it now before you, for 
 I have full powers from the Duke, and 
 E chard shall take and enforce it in the 
 valleys forthwith. Here, Signer Gastaldo, 
 here is the ink." 
 
 " May this gentle admonition on the 
 part of the Holy Mother Church bring 
 many of om^ strayed yet beloved children 
 back to om* arms !" said the sleek delegate, 
 taking the pen, and adding the fatal hand- 
 writing to the deed. 
 
 *' There, Marquis, there is the signature,"
 
 132 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 added Gastaldo, "but I'll date it from 
 Lucerna, when it is issued." 
 
 " Andrea Gastaldo, Auditor e e Delegato,^^ 
 glistened on the scroll, and the drying sand 
 was sprinkled over the autograph. 
 
 That pen had inflicted more ruthless 
 devastation than the sword; that drop of 
 ink had traced a signature in which was 
 hidden a volume of cruelty. It was but a 
 name in ink, but it had power to break up 
 loving families, and to drive them forth as 
 exiles from their fathers' homes in the midst 
 of winter. 
 
 "Look, Marchioness," said Pianesse, 
 holding up the order before her glazing eye, 
 that she might read the writing; "the deed 
 is signed. It will bring forth fruit; if 
 not, we will employ your treasure to good 
 effect." 
 
 "Oh, kill the harhets,^' screamed the 
 sufferer, who vras relapsing into another 
 paroxysm — " kill them. Marquis. — Gastaldo, 
 did you sign the order ? — Turn them out.
 
 THE DEATH-BED. 133 
 
 — lolande, what are you doing? — Can't 
 you rend tliat household ? — E chard, take 
 the order. — Your sword can do us service. 
 — ^^larquis, spend the money. Oh the fire, 
 the fii^e ! I feel it again. My feet are 
 scorched; the coverlet is on flames; 
 quench it. The rats are eating my fingers. 
 Take them ofi", inhuman monsters, who see 
 me suffering, and yet do nothing." 
 
 '' Lift up my bed. Marquis; do you hear ? 
 Hoist it up, or I'll cm'se you with my dying 
 breath." 
 
 The Marquis seized one rope, and bid- 
 ding E chard steady the bed, he, with the 
 help of the attendant, raised it several feet 
 from the ground. 
 
 " By all the seven Popes of Avignon," 
 muttered the Abbot to himself, "I never 
 saw anything hke this before. I question 
 whether any of our Popes had a harder 
 death than this." 
 
 " Can't it go higher ?" groaned the lady. 
 
 " I don't touch the rafter yet. — Are
 
 134 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 your puUies riglit ? — Malvicino — Echard — 
 lolande." 
 
 The dusk of evening liad spread a gloom 
 over the room, wliicli was only relieved by 
 the smouldering logs upon an open grate, 
 common to the baronial castles of feudal 
 times. 
 
 The flame flickered fitfully. Now it lit 
 up the groups on the arras, and then, 
 glancing from the gilded coronet, sank for 
 some time, making the gloom more sensibly 
 felt. 
 
 The breathing of the Marchioness be- 
 came heavier, and her gasps more audible. 
 
 She writhed in the bed, which swayed 
 to and fro with her movements. Horror 
 was graven on her face, and the sweat stood 
 in drops on that ghastly brow. 
 
 " Oh the fire! save me from the fire ; — 
 quench it with blood. — Queen of heaven, 
 Mother of God, — receive my soul. — For the 
 sake of what I have now done, — relieve my 
 torments. — Oh! the flames have encircled
 
 THE DEATH-BED. 135 
 
 my bed, my soul is on fire.— Oli, marquis, 
 
 spend the money — as — as I — said — let — 
 
 blood — be — slied — help the Holy Office, — 
 
 let the blood — of the harhets be shed — 
 
 blood " 
 
 ****** 
 
 A convulsive gurgle, a rattle in the 
 throat, and all is silent — the Marchioness 
 is dead. 
 
 There lay the body, the grey tresses 
 dishevelled, the arms flung backwards, the 
 protruding eye staring into vacancy, the lips 
 unclosed. The corpse became gradually 
 cold as it lay in the couch which still rocked 
 between heaven and earth in motion from 
 her dying spasm. 
 
 "Echard," said the Marquis, '' thou shalt 
 witness how faithfully this blood-money 
 is expended, and according to thy mother's 
 dying wish, thou shalt specially assist in 
 fulfilling her last intentions." 
 
 Echardwas silent. He brushed away 
 the falling tear, as he looked upon the
 
 13f) THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 corpse of her lie had addressed as mother ; 
 but, nevertheless, the scene caused his 
 heart to tremble, as dohig violence to his 
 moral feelings, and, notwithstanding his 
 natural prejudices, filled his conscience with 
 disquieting reflections. 
 
 It was solemn to behold that chilled 
 form, whose eyes still stared as if to pierce 
 the veil of death, whose lips were not yet 
 closed; it was solemn to remember that 
 their last words were *' blood," that she 
 had bequeathed gold for the destruction of 
 human life, and the infliction of misery on 
 those whose sole crime was difference of 
 faith. 
 
 Such was the dying bequest of the Pre- 
 sident of the Female Propaganda of Turin. 
 Such were the last moments of the Mar- 
 chioness of Pianesse. But her spirit has 
 gone. We can trace her no farther. Her 
 works follow her, and to her own Master 
 she standeth or falleth, who will judge all 
 according to their deeds.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE BAHBA. 
 
 The sun was descending behind tlie hills 
 in the direction of France, and its last 
 beams glanced among the leafless branches 
 of the chestnuts and walnuts at the entrance 
 of the vaUey of Lucerna. 
 
 The children of the farm had crowded 
 in the archway to witness that glorious 
 sight in nature's drama, which untaught 
 infancy appreciates as if by instinct, and 
 the little ones had poured forth their joyous 
 exclamations until the glowing orb became 
 intercepted by the barrier of the Alps, 
 whose broken ridges might be traced in 
 rugged outline against the tinted sk}'.
 
 138 THE SIX SISTEKS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 *' Wliat a beautiful evening !" exclaimed 
 Etienne, "and liow clearly we see all tlie 
 view. We sliall have to go to grandfather 
 directly, but I will see if I recollect the 
 lesson Ardoine taught me. Come, Yalere, 
 help me." 
 
 " WeU, those houses in front of us are 
 those of Lucerna, and that white speck to 
 the left is Lucernetta." 
 
 " Stop !" said Yalere, " begin at the 
 left." 
 
 " Those hills quite to our left, or south- 
 west as Ardy calls it, are the Maritime 
 Alps, and those peaks with that white mass 
 of snow is Monte Viso." 
 
 ''No," exclaimed Bertin, with some 
 glee, ''you are wrong; we can't see Monte 
 Yiso from here. You've forgotten it. I 
 remember the name ; those are the Alps de 
 Bagnol — are they not, Laurent?" 
 
 "Yes, you are right," replied the other. 
 
 " Then comes the slope," exclaimed 
 Andre, " behind which Eora lies ; look !
 
 THE BAEBA. 139 
 
 there's tlie bend on the to^D, near Pian Pra. 
 How brightly the snow shines in the setting 
 sun!" 
 
 "Straight before us J " said Bertin, "is 
 the valley of Lucerna; the smoke of La 
 Tom- is in the foreground, and at the foot 
 of that spur to the right is Yillar. I can 
 see the hills above Bobi, and right at the 
 end, in the clouds, is Le Pra." 
 
 " We now get to the right side of the 
 valley that is on our right hand. There," 
 said Revel, " is Castelluzzo, with his 
 curious hump. I always feel so glad 
 when I get a sight of it when I am away, 
 for I know then that I am getting near 
 home." 
 
 "I think," said Etienne, "Httle Lena 
 can tell me what this valley is running up 
 to the rio^ht." 
 
 "Angrogna," said the child, with a 
 smile. 
 
 " Look, Andre," said Etienne, " at that 
 floating bit of cloud over La Yachere ; is
 
 140 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 it not beautiful ? I wisli grandfather could 
 see it, for lie would admire it so much." 
 
 " Come, finisli our semicircle. Quite 
 to om- right is La Costieres, of St. Jean, 
 and up there is that rock where we have 
 been to play, and which has such a pretty 
 view, Roccamanaut. But grandfather will 
 be ready for us soon; let us go in and 
 listen to Raynald until our turn comes." 
 
 *' What are the two points," said Ro- 
 dolphe to Eaynald, as the children entered, 
 '' in which we glory ?" 
 
 " In our antiquity and purity." 
 " What do you mean by these ?" 
 " On the one hand, that we have been 
 here from time immemorial, from the time 
 that our ancestors received the truth from 
 the apostles themselves, and on the other 
 that we are primitive Protestants, ever op- 
 posed to the innovations of the Church of 
 Rome. We are an unreformed church, and 
 in this dijffer from the reformed churches of 
 Germany."
 
 THE BARBA. 141 
 
 " Are vre, then, justly branded as here- 
 tics or schismatics ?" 
 
 *'No, we are not a new church, we con- 
 tinue to be what we have been since the 
 days of the apostles. Until the seventh 
 century, no vital error had been introduced 
 into the church, and we formed part of the 
 church universal. When errors crept in 
 our ancestors would not admit them, and 
 their ministers did not on that account 
 cease to be successors of those established 
 by the apostles. To persevere, without in- 
 terruption from the time of the apostles, 
 in the pure doctrine they taught cannot 
 surely be schism." 
 
 " Where should you say the true church 
 of Christ was to be found after the heresies 
 avowed at the second Council of Mce in 
 787 ?" 
 
 "In the churches of the valleys of 
 Piedmont, for whose reformation history 
 assigns no date ; they were presided over 
 by Claude, Bishop of Turin, who flourished
 
 142 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 in 817, and zealously protested against tlie 
 introduction of images into places of wor- 
 ship." 
 
 ''Wliat tribute to our antiquity and 
 purity can you derive from tlie writings of 
 our opponents P" 
 
 " Reinerius Sacco, an inquisitor, wlio 
 lived eighty years after "Waldo of Lyons, 
 admits that we flourished ^Ye hundred 
 years before him; and Rorengo, who is 
 now living, and is a neighbour of ours at 
 Lucerna, allows in his last work that we 
 preserve the opinions which Claude held in 
 the ninth century." 
 
 '^ Can you tell me the names of some 
 of the early reformers in the other parts 
 of Europe ?" 
 
 '^ Berenger, Peter de Bruys, Henry de 
 Bruys, Arnulph, Arnold de Brescia, Huss, 
 Jerome, Wickliffe, and others." 
 
 " Can you tell me some of the persecu- 
 tions which the Popes of Rome have in- 
 cited ?"
 
 THE E.VEBA. 148 
 
 ''In 1179, Alexander III. issued a Bull 
 against us, and in 1215 Innocent III. did 
 the same, in wliich last crusade the Inqui- 
 sitor Dominic earned his canonization. 
 Also Innocent IV., Alexander TV., Urban 
 lY., Innocent YIII., John XXII., Clement 
 YII., and others, have done so." 
 
 "" Can you mention some of the leading 
 errors of the Church of Rome, with the 
 date of their introduction ?" 
 
 '^ The practice of confession, which was 
 first authorized by a Lateran council, under 
 Innocent III., in 1215. The worship of 
 images, sanctioned by the second council 
 of Mce, 787. Supremacy of the pope, in 
 606. Transubstantiation introduced in 
 818, and proclaimed an article of faith, 
 under Innocent III., in 1215. The cup 
 withheld from the laity, sanctioned first by 
 the Council of Constance, in 1414 ; and 
 purgatory, which received its present 
 moulding principally from Aquinas, in the 
 thirteenth century."
 
 144 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 " Enough, my boy, you will confuse 
 your old grandfather's head with so many 
 figures — Made Virtute I I am, however, 
 much gratified with your application. I 
 see you do more than count your sheep 
 when you are on the hill- side. God grant 
 you may know the power of the truth in 
 your own experience, so that you may 
 worthily hand on to others the pure word 
 of God." 
 
 *^ Come, Etienne," said Rodolphe, strok- 
 ing his head, " you will say your catechism 
 well to-day, my boy. When was this 
 catechism composed ?" 
 
 '' By our Barbas, in the twelfth century, 
 grandfather." 
 
 ''Right; so the same truth descends 
 from father to child, as it is written, ' they 
 shall declare the truth from one generation 
 to another.' Where did we leave off?" 
 
 " At section three." 
 
 '' ' What is the foundation of these com- 
 mandments, by which every one ought to
 
 THE BARBA. 146 
 
 enter into life ; without which foundation 
 the commandments cannot be worthily 
 kept nor accomplished ?' " 
 
 '''The Lord Jesus Christ,'" replied 
 Etienne, in a grave tone, " ' of whom the 
 apostle says, 1 Cor. iii., ' For other foun- 
 dation can no man lay than that is laid, 
 which is Jesus Christ.' " 
 
 " ' By what can man come to this foun- 
 dation ?'" 
 
 " ' By faith. St. Peter saying, ' Behold, 
 I lay in Sion a chief corner stone, elect, 
 precious ; and he that believeth on Him shall 
 not be confounded.' And the Lord says, 
 ' He who believeth in Me, hath eternal life.' " 
 
 " In what way can you know that you 
 beheve ?" 
 
 " In that I acknowledge Him, Himself, 
 as very God and very man, who was 
 born and suffered for my redemption 
 and justification. In that I love Him, 
 Himself, and desire to fulfil his command- 
 ments.'* 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 " By what means does one arrive at 
 tlie essential virtues, viz., faitli, hope, and 
 charity?" 
 
 " By the gifts of the Holy Spirit." 
 '' Dost thou believe m the Holy Spirit?" 
 '' I believe in Him ; for the Holy Spirit, 
 proceeding from the Father and the Son, 
 is one person of the Trinity ; and as to 
 divinity, is equal to the Father and the 
 Son." 
 
 " Believest thou God the Father, God 
 the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, to be 
 three in person (three persons), then thou 
 hast three Gods ?" 
 
 " There are not three (Gods)." 
 
 " Yet thou hast named three." 
 
 " That is by reason of the difference of 
 
 the persons, not by reason of the essence 
 
 of the divinity, for as there are three in 
 
 person (three persons), so there is one in 
 
 essence." 
 
 "N'ow, Claude, where are you, my 
 boy ?"
 
 THE BxVEBA. 147 
 
 '* I am in section to., beginning there. 
 I have only learnt three, for I forgot it 
 until last nio-ht." 
 
 o 
 
 " That's a little man, always speak the 
 truth, and then it is easy to forgive you. The 
 three you have learnt are very beautiful." 
 
 " On what account does one expect 
 grace?" 
 
 " On account of the Mediator, Jesus 
 Christ, of whom St. John says, ' Grace is 
 come through Jesus Christ.' Also, 'We 
 regard his glory full of grace and truth.' 
 And, ' We have all received of his abim- 
 dance.' " 
 
 '' What is this grace ?" 
 
 " It is redemption, remission of sins, 
 justification, adoption, and sanctification." 
 
 " Through what do we hope for this 
 grace in Christ ?" 
 
 " Tln*ough living faith and true repent- 
 ance, Christ saying, ' Repent ye, and be- 
 lieve the gospel.' " 
 
 " That will do very well, my little lad,"
 
 148 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 said liis grandfatlier, patting liim on the 
 head. "Now run to your mother, and tell 
 her that you are a good boy, and don't 
 forget to thank Aunt Marie, who takes such 
 trouble with you, and hears your lesson as 
 she lies upon her sick bed." 
 
 " Yalere," said Rodolphe, ''you have 
 long learned your catechism, and I hope 
 you have not forgotten it. Let me ask you 
 the last question. In what does eternal 
 life consist ?" 
 
 " In a living and efficacious faith, and 
 perseverance in the same," replied the boy 
 unhesitatingly, as his eye brightened at his 
 grandfather's appeal. " The Saviour says, 
 John xvii. 3, ' And this is life eternal, that 
 they might know Thee, the only true God, 
 and Jesus Christ whom Thou hast sent ;' 
 and he who shall persevere in this to the 
 end, he shall be saved. Amen." 
 
 " I am pleased that you remember so 
 well. When we have once learned any- 
 thing it is a pity to forget it, for very little
 
 THE BARBA. I49 
 
 attention enables us to retain what we have 
 mastered." 
 
 "Now, grandfather," said Etienne, 
 " now that we have said oui^ catechism, tell 
 us one of your stories." 
 
 '' Tell us something about the plague," 
 said Berthi. 
 
 "]N^," said Claude, clambering upon 
 his grandfather's knee, " let us not hear 
 about that till Ardy comes. Tell us about 
 the great fire which lasted so many days, 
 not long after the plague, and bm^nt up so 
 many leagues and all the woods, when they 
 tried to put out the flames vrith. wine in- 
 stead of water." 
 
 " Ah !" said the old man, " I lived then 
 m a cottage over in Angrogna, and could 
 see the fire on the side of Lucerna. The 
 mountain was like a sea of flame. We 
 could see the glowing waves ascending the 
 hill, when all behind was black ; and it 
 was several days before they reached the 
 highest row of pines. But I think you
 
 150 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 have heard tliis before ; I will tell you 
 wliat my grandfatlier used to tell me, when 
 I was a boy. Some of you may grow up 
 and may liave to do like things in your 
 days. I used to sit by him and play with 
 his stick, spectacles, and ring as you do, 
 Etienne, with mine ; and then, when I was 
 too noisy, he used to tell me what he had 
 seen when he was young." 
 
 " Oh do tell me, grandfather, for I 
 should like to hear, and then I shall be 
 quiet too." 
 
 " I will, my boy, for God only knows 
 whether you may take part in a similar 
 scene. It was in the year 1561." 
 
 '' That was nearly a hundred years ago, 
 was it not?" 
 
 "Yes, within six years. Well, news 
 came that Francis I. of France was dead ; 
 so deputies were sent from this valley, by 
 way of Bobi, to meet those of the Yal 
 Clusone, to renew the league of support 
 between the valleys of Piedmont and those
 
 THE BARBA. 151 
 
 of Daupliiny. It was on the twentj-first 
 of January, in the middle of winter, as it 
 is now, that the deputies returned across 
 the Col Julien in a tremendous snow- 
 storm." 
 
 "And were any of them lost in the 
 snow?" asked little Renee. 
 
 " No ; they arrived near Bobi, and then 
 their friends met them to tell them that an 
 edict had been passed in their absence, to 
 comjDel them to appear before a comicil 
 of war next morning, ' to know whether they 
 would go to mass or not.' " 
 
 " And what was to be done to them if 
 they did not go ?" said Etienne, whose im- 
 patience would not allow his grandfather to 
 proceed without interruption. 
 
 " They were to be sent to the galleys 
 like felons, or to be burnt alive at the 
 stake ; and they had one night given to 
 them to decide what they would do." 
 
 " And is that what they would do to us 
 now? "What did your grandfather do, then?"
 
 152 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 " They all knelt down and prayed to God 
 to help them — not one of them would give 
 up his religion, or the truths of that cate- 
 chism which you have just been learning ; 
 but they could not get away, for it was 
 winter, and the snow had blocked up all 
 the passes." 
 
 '' What did they do then ?" 
 
 '' They resolved to defend themselves, 
 or die in defence of their religion. They 
 raised their hands to heaven, and vowed 
 they would assemble, as before, in their 
 own place of worship. So next day they 
 all went to the temple at Bobi for service, 
 and then came out to face the enemy." 
 
 '' And did your grandfather fight ?" 
 
 '' They all had to fight, and our brave 
 fathers drove the Papists to the citadel of 
 Yillar, where, after a siege of ten days, 
 they made them all prisoners." 
 
 " And they did all that a hundred years 
 ago, when the snow was on the ground as 
 it is now ?"
 
 THE BAEBA. 153 
 
 " Yes ; and tliiiik wliat a solemn night 
 that must have been, when they had to 
 decide what they would do ; and how 
 earnestly they must have prayed to God 
 for direction and courage, when this great 
 danger was before their faces." 
 
 '' Oh, it was glorious," said the httle 
 fellow, clapping his hands. "Fm glad I 
 had a grandfather there." 
 
 *' Quick, I think I hear Aunt Lucille 
 calling us to supper."
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE EVENING MEAL. 
 
 The apartment in whicb. the family assem- 
 bled for tlieir evening repast was the 
 largest in La Baudene, and its arrange- 
 ments displayed more comfort and resources 
 than were generally met with among the 
 poor peasants of the valleys. 
 
 The floor of the room was flagged. 
 Down the centre ran a long oaken table, 
 on either side of which were ranged rows 
 of stiff high-backed chairs. Across the 
 horizontal beams forming the base of the 
 triangular roof were laid long poles, on 
 which loaves of bread and other articles 
 were placed, while at either end frames
 
 THE EVENING MEAL. 155 
 
 containing numerous spindles of home- spun 
 thread were suspended by strings. Well 
 scoured vessels for milk were neatly ar- 
 ranged above tlie clieese presses and 
 wooden churns, pleasant tributes to Lu- 
 cille' s thrift and management, while im- 
 plements of husbandry and spinning-wheels 
 indicated that the family did not eat the 
 bread of idleness. In one corner stood a 
 large frame for weaving, for, as is still the 
 case in the Norwegian honde^s cottage, 
 division of labour was little understood, 
 and most of the articles of domestic use 
 were of home manufacture. The board 
 was plentifully supplied, for though the 
 valleys had been much impoverished by 
 their forced contributions to maintain a 
 squadron of Savoy and the French regi- 
 ments of Grancey, still the prudent manage- 
 ment of the sisters did not suffer the 
 household of La Baudene to lack. 
 
 Rye bread, with butter and cheese, 
 filberts, chestnuts, fish, and milk, formed
 
 156 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 the staple of the repast. Knives and forks, 
 plates and dishes, of the coarsest work- 
 manship, were duly laid upon the clean 
 white cloth, a luxury still found in the 
 humblest albergo, although a barren com- 
 pensation for the mediocrity of the Italian 
 cuisine. 
 
 The table was arranged in sets, each 
 father and mother being the centre of their 
 group. A patriarchal sight it was when 
 the board was full, a sight which has rarely 
 been seen on earth, and possibly has been 
 seen nowhere else save in the farm of La 
 Baudene. 
 
 " Come sisters," said Lucille, as she 
 threw some wood on the embers, and cast 
 in some more chestnuts, " our evenino- 
 meal is ready. Madeleine has milked Bru- 
 non, and our little people are impatient to 
 begin. Come, for we like to send our 
 darlings to rest soon after sunset." 
 
 " Here, Yalere, we want some more 
 salt. There is the mortar, now let me see
 
 THE EVENING MEAL. 157 
 
 if you can pound us some by the time we 
 are seated." 
 
 ''Oil yes, aunt, I like tliat sort of 
 work," replied tke lad, ''better tlian doing 
 wliat suits tlie girls." 
 
 "Oil! Ardoine,! liaveburnt my fingers," 
 cried Etienne, wko liad been trying to 
 remove tlie iron pot wliicli liung over tke 
 wood fire, supported by a large liook, on 
 a primitive ckain. 
 
 "Never mind," said Ardoine, "you 
 sliall taste our new apple wine, with some 
 sugar. Now drive out the hens, and put 
 those sieves and baskets in their places." 
 
 "My poor Barthelemy," said Lucille, 
 speaking of her boy, who was a colporteur, 
 "he's been away nearly five months, but 
 he was to return to-day. You see I have 
 laid his plate, so I had not forgotten him." 
 
 "Yes," said Ardoine, "it was about 
 the time when Raynald went out harvesting 
 in the plains, as we were permitted to do 
 by the Duke's edict of last May."
 
 158 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 '^ You may take your places," said Lu- 
 cille, " but we will not begin until all are 
 ready." 
 
 " Take your places quietly, cliildren," 
 whispered Ardoine. 
 
 ''We are coming, Lucille," said Jana- 
 vel; "your clieerful face is a grace to our 
 repast, and to your industry we are in- 
 debted for tlie variety wliich adorns our 
 board." 
 
 a There is little enough of that ; we are 
 but Alpine peasants, but we bless God for 
 what we have, and eat our bread with 
 thankfulness." 
 
 ''Yalere, my boy, how have you sped 
 to-day in your labours in that new field ? 
 Those numerous stones and weeds will tax 
 yom* strength and patience." 
 
 '' I have done well ; for I have had the 
 pleasure of my mother's company. She 
 sat upon a stone which is in the middle of 
 the field, and defies my efforts, and there 
 she chanted the hymns which soothe Aunt
 
 THE EVENING MEAL. 159 
 
 Marie ; and under her eye I could not but 
 labour witli heart and soul." 
 
 "Well, vine-dresser," said Janavel, ad- 
 dressing Laurent, "yours is dreary work 
 in January. Can you find employment for 
 the day?" 
 
 "Yes, father, digging the soil is part 
 of our work, as well as pruning the berries; 
 but the weather is not so pleasant as when 
 I brought the basket of first fi^uits to Aunt 
 Marie." 
 
 " Dear sister," said Renee, " what sort 
 of a day has she passed ? I was hoping she 
 would feel well enough to hear me sing that 
 air which she loves so much." 
 
 " Oh, do sing for us. Aunt Renee," cried 
 little Susanne, " you said you would if we 
 were good children, and I and five of my 
 cousins have been playing together all day, 
 and we have tried to remember what you 
 said about kind words, and have not quar- 
 relled once." 
 
 " Good child," said Rence, as she
 
 160 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 stooped, and smootMng off tlie cliild's liair 
 from lier forehead, kissed lier ; *' you sliall 
 sit near me at table this evening, and have 
 something out of aunt's basin." 
 
 ''Here comes Aline," said Madeleine ; 
 ** she has just said good-night to her pet 
 sheep; look how she holds our old dog 
 Liberta by the ear ; look, Andre, he wags 
 his tail as if he were quite pleased." 
 
 ''Etienne," said Lucille, "set chairs 
 round the table, and put grandfather's glass 
 in its proper place ; you know he is pleased 
 with these little attentions, and it is the 
 duty of children to please their elders." 
 
 '' I had not forgotten," replied the boy, 
 '' I remember his kind smile, how he patted 
 my head, and said a verse, I think it was 
 out of the Old Testament ; I should know 
 it again if I heard it." 
 
 "Marguerite," said Madeleine, "have 
 you placed my seat next yours ? you know 
 I cannot enjoy a meal unless I am at your 
 side."
 
 THE EVENING MEAL. 161 
 
 " Our little friends will not forget wliat 
 eacli person likes, and will do their best to 
 please all. We want all to be happy, 
 don't we, Etienne ?" 
 
 ''lam sure we do. G-randfatlier says 
 smiles are like sunbeams, and it is so 
 nice to see those we love happy. I wish I 
 could make mother happy, I do love her ; 
 but she only cries when I try to please her, 
 and seems as if she could not smile." 
 
 " Oh, sweet home," sang Lucille, as she 
 moved about, now turning the chestnuts, 
 now mixing the curds, now arranging the 
 honey. '' Sweet home, there's no place 
 like home." 
 
 " Come, Susanne, take away this knife, 
 and don't play with uncle's silver cup. 
 You know how much he values it, for it 
 was given him by the Duke when he took 
 refuge in our farm many years ago." 
 
 "And how are your goats ?" said Mar- 
 guerite to young Revel ; "I hope yon had 
 not to chase your truants far to-day." 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 '' J^o, motlier, they felt tired after 
 yesterday's run, for tliey led me a cliase to 
 the path which branches off to the cavern 
 in the Yandalin. It is not often they want 
 driving, for they know my voice and follow 
 me about ; to-day even old Grey-beard ate 
 out of my hand quite quietly." 
 
 *^And did you remember," said his 
 mother, " to repeat your catechism over 
 while you were watching your flocks ? I 
 reminded you how David used to think 
 upon Grod, and compose his Psalms on the 
 mountain." 
 
 *' I did not forget it," said the boy, " I 
 shall be able, I hope, to say it perfectly when 
 you question me next time." 
 
 The little Aline sat in her chair patiently 
 awaiting the commencement of the repast. 
 The mother, who was secretly admiring her 
 child, could restrain herself no longer ; she 
 bent over her and kissed her forehead, say- 
 ing to herself — 
 
 '* My little darling, you might have been
 
 THE EVENING MEAL. 163 
 
 one taken to Duke Pliilip YII., and he 
 would have seen that what our enemies said 
 about oui' having one eye in the middle of 
 the forehead, and four rows of black teeth 
 were wicked lies, for you are the greatest 
 beauty in the plains of Piedmont, that you 
 are; yes, that you are, though mother 
 says it." 
 
 Rodolphe and Janavel now entered, and 
 the old man seated himself at the head of 
 the table. The whole family stood up while 
 the aged grandfather, with closed eyes and 
 clasped hands, asked a blessing on their 
 repast. 
 
 For a moment there was silence through- 
 out the room, while the patriarchal family 
 acknowledged the Giver of all good gifts, 
 and worshipped the God of their fathers. 
 
 The silence was broken by shouts in the 
 distance, and the clatter of horses' hoofs 
 against the paved road grew more and more 
 distinct. It was clear that a body of men 
 were galloping up the avenue.
 
 164 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 Janavel exdianged glances with. Eo- 
 dolphe as he listened to the sound, doubting 
 whether it might be a band of the brigands 
 in the pay of the Abbey of Pignerol, or a 
 company of the Duke's soldiers, who were 
 quartered in the valley. They were n ot, how- 
 ever, left long in doubt. A violent knocking 
 was heard at the outer gate, which was 
 burst open, and eighteen or twenty men in 
 French uniform galloped into the courtyard. 
 "Now then," said one of the men, 
 " where' s our new landlord? Old fellow, 
 we've come to lodge and sleep. Here's 
 yoor Duke's orders to billet us on you." 
 
 " We have not much room," replied 
 Eodolphe, calmly, " but we are always glad 
 to carry out our Duke's wishes. We there- 
 fore welcome our guests, and will do what 
 we can to make them comfortable." 
 
 " But where are we to put them 
 all ?" said Lucille in an under tone ; " with 
 our numerous family our house is already 
 crowded."
 
 THE EVENING MEAL. 1G5 
 
 " I must leave that to you, Lucille, you 
 are the housekeeper, and know the family 
 arrangements. We must not mind a little 
 discomfort, as our Sovereign wishes this 
 proof of our loyalty." 
 
 '' Come, is supper ready?" shouted out 
 one of the men. " I'm hungry, and we know 
 the proverb here," continued he, singing in 
 a rolhcking voice — 
 
 " Chi va a letto senza cena, 
 Tutta notte si dimena." 
 
 " Old man, we'll save you from the gout, 
 and you know that he who steals an old 
 man's supper does him no wrong. But I 
 see a cloth. Here's the feast ready laid for 
 us. This way, boys. Corporal, take the top." 
 And the soldiers rushed into the dining- 
 room, while the little children crouched 
 behind their mothers, or made their escape 
 as best they could.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE BILLET. 
 
 " Come, old landlord," said one of tlie sol- 
 diers, Berru by name, '' a glass of your old 
 vintage. What's he got in his cellar ? we'll 
 be content with the Pope's Monte Pul- 
 cianoy 
 
 " Fetch out your oldest brew," shouted 
 Dagot, brandishing his sword, and driving 
 it through a loaf which stood on the table. 
 
 " Here's a bottle of something. It looks 
 
 too thick, as if . Ah ! the wine itself 
 
 smells of heresy," said the man, putting 
 the bottle to his nose. 
 
 "It's like vinegar. Come here, young 
 fellow," said he, addressing Etienne, "and
 
 THE BILLET. 167 
 
 I'll wash your head mtli it like a good 
 nurse." 
 
 " Take yom' places," cried the corporal, 
 " we have not always such bright waiters." 
 
 " Here, my fair lass," said he, turning 
 to Ardoine, " mix my drink, sugar it well ; 
 make it sweet, like yourself. I pledge your 
 health, and wish you the man of your heart 
 — heart, oh." 
 
 '' Landlord," cried Berru, " I want a 
 pair of shoes ; I hope you keep a good 
 supply. Here, you with the straight nose 
 and black eyes, take my measure," said he, 
 stretching out his legs, and addressing 
 Marguerite ; '' go and see if your husband's 
 shoes will fit me, for you see I limp. Girls, 
 get your knitting ready, for you shall knit 
 my garters." 
 
 " Wliat a stroke of fortune to find supper 
 waiting for us ! You expected us, then, and 
 would have been disappointed if we had 
 not turned up ; more sugar, my golden 
 lass. Will you smile on a wandering sol-
 
 168 THE SIX SISTERS OE THE VALLEYS. 
 
 dier ? If I knew wlio your lover was, I'd 
 spit him, for I'll liave no rival." 
 
 " Look out, boy," said Berru, taking a 
 cup, and flinging it at Yalere's head. 
 
 The boy escaped the blow, but the cup 
 dashed against the wall, and lay shivered 
 on the floor. 
 
 '' Friends and brethren in arms," said 
 the corporal, standing at one end of the 
 table, and steadying himself by leaning one 
 hand on Dagot's shoulder ; " friends, I'm 
 highly honoured. You are, I mean — ^You've 
 got some of the soldiers of his most Chris- 
 tian Majesty, Louis — I forget his number — 
 I try to recollect it as I was taught in 
 school. Twice seven are thirteen — no. 
 fourteen ; that's it. You must make us 
 comfortable. I drink your health, old 
 sexton in the corner. A toast for his Ma- 
 jesty the Pope. Open your moviths, boys. 
 We're come here to keep you at peace and 
 to protect you, to convert you. Look at 
 this bright blade of mine ; it's brought two
 
 THE BILLET. 169 
 
 or three into tlie fold — and — wliere was I ? 
 and tauglit them to say an Ave with the true 
 accent." 
 
 "What's that old woman all in black 
 for ?" cried Berru, grasping Martha by the 
 arm. 
 
 ''Come 'now," said MuUenier, "com- 
 rades, you should not insult these good 
 people who are willing to do their best for 
 us. Let her go, BeiTU, or you and I shall 
 see who has learned his drill best. Go, 
 go, mistress," said he in an under tone to 
 Martha. 
 
 The corporal raised himself in his chair, 
 and looked round the room. " Girl," said 
 he, addressing Ardoine, "will you accept 
 me for a partner ? — let us have a dance — I 
 can't keep my legs." 
 
 So saying, he dragged the cloth off the 
 table, and knives, plates, mugs, eatables, 
 lay in one mingled confusion on the floor. 
 
 " Beg pardon, old sexton, if I trod on 
 your corns. This fellow, boys, has the eye
 
 170 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 of a harhet. We must convert Mm. I'll 
 hear his doctrine, he shall preach to us. 
 We'll rig him up." 
 
 "Here's his cap," said Dagot, placing 
 a large earthen basin on Rodolphe's head. 
 
 '^ A gown ; here tie the table-cloth round 
 his neck." 
 
 Ardoine could resist no longer. Eush- 
 ing forward, she seized the basin, and 
 dashed it to the ground, and casting herself 
 between the soldiers and her grandfather, 
 exclaimed — • 
 
 ''You call yourselves men. You can 
 ill-treat women, and insult old age. Shame 
 on you ! Have none of you fathers ? Have 
 you seen no grey hairs in your own 
 mother's head that should teach you to 
 respect the grey hairs of an old man ? Are 
 none of you fathers, and has the sound of 
 a child's voice never caused your hearts to 
 beat with pity, you who now seem like 
 fiends in the midst of an innocent family ? 
 God of heaven !" she exclaimed, as she
 
 THE BILLET. 171 
 
 clasped lier hands, and looked up, *' be not 
 far from us. Deliver us from the ftirj of 
 these men, and send help for thy name's 
 sake." 
 
 Her aspect was such as might arrest the 
 murderer. 
 
 Those soldiers from a foreign land felt 
 the majesty of woman's excellence, and 
 yielded that homage that virtue extorts 
 from the wicked themselves. 
 
 That artless girl had caught the inspi- 
 ration of an impulsive heroism from the 
 mountain storm and free air of her native 
 glens. In her self-forgetfal anxiety for her 
 grandfather, she who at first quailed at the 
 sound of the soldiers' voice, and shrank 
 behind Rodolphe's chair, boldly con- 
 fronted the tried veterans of many a 
 battle-field. 
 
 These men paused as they beheld her 
 eyes flashing, and the escaped tresses of 
 golden hair flowing over her shoulders, feel- 
 ing a passing admiration for such devoted
 
 173 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 affection and disregard of danger. She 
 laid one hand on Rodolplie, and stretching 
 out the other to repel the assailants, 
 looked with intrepid dignity upon the 
 crowd of rugged faces by whom she was 
 surrounded. For a moment all seemed 
 conscience stricken. 
 
 " Stand back," said MuUenier, "the girl's 
 right; I'll fight for her single-handed. 
 Back, I say, or I'll mix the blood of some 
 of you with the wine that's on this 
 floor, and see which is thickest and 
 reddest." 
 
 " You want to get the girl for yourself," 
 said Dagot. " That's what he's after, com- 
 rades. You swore that the next prize 
 should be mine, and I claim this one. 
 Honour among brethren;" so saying he 
 rushedupon MuUenier. Their swords clashed 
 fiercely, and the clang of the metal iwas 
 heard high above the shouts and cries of 
 the lawless throng. Life would probably 
 have been lost in the tumult, had not Du
 
 THE BILLET. 173 
 
 Petit Bourg, the officer of the men, sud- 
 denly entered — 
 
 '' Shame — shame, Frenchmen. Is this 
 military order ? We are soldiers and 
 not brigands. To your quarters this 
 moment. What a wreck you have made 
 of this place! If you would fare well, 
 treat these honest people well, and do 
 not rob them in their home. To your 
 quarters at the other side of the court. 
 Quick, or I'U order fifty lashes for the man 
 that's last in this room." 
 
 " Here, Mullenier, do what you can 
 to set things to rights. Come, my good 
 people, do not be alarmed, no one shall 
 hurt you. Father," said he, addressuig 
 Eodolphe, " I am sorry to incommode 
 you, I will do my best to keep my 
 men out of your way. There, now, 
 things are a little better. It seems a 
 mockery to bid you continue your meal ; 
 but rest on my honour, tliis brave girl 
 shaU have no cause to fear for her grand-
 
 174 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 father, nor for the little ones whom I see 
 trembling in the corner. Good evening, 
 my friends." So saying, the officer bowed 
 and retired.
 
 CHAPTER XY. 
 
 "cose DI ROMA." 
 
 The inliabitants of tlie valleys liad suffered 
 for some time past fi^om the settlement of 
 missionary monks and tlie cantonment of 
 troops, and liad had for some years 
 a regiment of Savoy annually forced upon 
 them, whose period of winter quarters often 
 extended to ten months. 
 
 In addition to these, at the time of which 
 we are now treating, (the Duchess of Savoy 
 having made arrangements with the minis- 
 ter of Louis XI Y., Cardinal Mazarin,) the 
 troops of Marshal Grancey had wintered in 
 the valleys. They consisted of the regi- 
 ments of Navarre, Quince, Altesse, and
 
 176 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 Grancej, in all numbering three thousand 
 men. 
 
 Of the last of these, Du Petit Bourg 
 was First Captain. 
 
 The family of La Bandene had hitherto 
 been strangely exempt from these inflictions, 
 considering their position and number, and 
 it was not until the incident related in the 
 previous chapter that they felt this cruel 
 inroad on their domestic peace, and this 
 drain on their resources. 
 
 Du Petit Bourg, however, used every 
 effort to alleviate the oppressive tax, and 
 his endeavours were successful. Not many 
 days had passed before a marked difiference 
 was perceptible in the bearing of the 
 men. 
 
 The wondrous unity, the patriarchal 
 simplicity, the genuine kindness of the 
 family, had, by dint of sheer moral force, 
 won a way to their hearts . Their uproarious 
 songs were comparatively hushed, and no 
 personal outrages were ofiered to any of the
 
 "COSE DI EOMA." 177 
 
 family. One man only had still a scowl on 
 his face. 
 
 Ai^doine's presence acted on them like 
 the spring sunshine after the morning rain, 
 and if old Rodolphe passed, some of them 
 would involimtarily rise to do homage to 
 the hoary head. Even the little childi^en 
 found playmates among the weather-beaten 
 warriors of Gaul. 
 
 **Well, messieurs," said Mullenier, one 
 morning, as he watched Ardoine bringing 
 her grandfather's glass of spring water, 
 "In all our wanderings we've not seen 
 such a family as this. They are more like 
 what we used to read of in books when we 
 were young, than what we have met with 
 in our knocking about the world." 
 
 "It really is," answered Lenois, "it's a 
 pity they are heretics." 
 
 " Heretics or saints, did you ever find 
 as good a lot of Cathohcs ? come, confess. 
 It reminds me of my early days when 
 I lived with my dear mother in Southern 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 Languedoc," continued the speaker, brush- 
 ing away a tear from his eye. " There 
 were some near us who were of this way of 
 thinking, and good honest folks they were." 
 
 " One feels a sort of peace here," in- 
 terposed Parelles, " which even fellows like 
 us who dabble in blood are glad to enjoy." 
 
 '' I only say it's a pity they're heretics," 
 doggedly retorted his companion ; "however 
 well they may have done in this world, they 
 will be lost in the next." 
 
 ''God may be more merciful than the 
 Pope," rejoined his companion, ''but I say, 
 judge them by their fruits. Why, look at 
 our men, did you ever see them so quiet 
 before ? It's an awful tax to have us here, 
 and yet how civil and hospitable they've 
 been." 
 
 "Here, boy," said MuUenier, hailing 
 Etienne, " who's that just come into 
 the yard ? I think I've seen him some- 
 where." 
 
 "That's Pastor Leger, the Moderator
 
 *'COSE DI ROMA." 179 
 
 of our Churclies, what grandfather once 
 was, when he was younger." 
 
 *' Ah ! now I recollect — Santo Bam- 
 hino ! that's the man that caught hold of 
 the tail of the Captain's horse and rushed 
 into our lines, as we were about to inarch 
 into La Tour some months back." 
 
 "Ha, ha," said Parelles, " that was a 
 brave act. Though I felt inclined to split 
 when I saw the old fellow flying like a cat 
 over a hot oven. They are a brave people, 
 and no mistake." 
 
 '' But they're heretics, and ^nW. be 
 damned," doggedly remarked Lenois. 
 
 " Come, don't be so hard on them, be- 
 cause they're heretics," replied Parelles ; 
 "look at their fruits. You've come from 
 Eome, Mullenier, did you ever see as much 
 good there in the holy city of the Pope and 
 the cardinals ?" 
 
 " No," answered the soldier, "although 
 it's full of holy bones and teeth. The dead 
 are holy with a vengeance, but as for the
 
 180 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 living, leave no room for saints in your 
 calendar, Peter, for there are no applicants 
 there now-a-days. I heard say there, that 
 you could do what you like if you would 
 only pay. There's a regular tax for sin, 
 at least it used to be so, when the Pope 
 got rich by other's sins, and kept a bureau 
 open for the convenience of sinners." 
 
 " Come, you must have had the night- 
 mare, and that has made you bilious ; but 
 let's hear what you did see there." 
 
 "See, why it would take me a week to 
 describe the sights of Rome. I have a good 
 knowledge of the Scala Santa, and shan't 
 forget that till my knees get well." 
 
 " What is that ?" 
 
 " It is a staircase of twenty-eight mar- 
 ble steps, which belonged to Pilate's house, 
 and down which our Saviour walked when 
 he left the judgment seat. No one is 
 allowed to walk up it." 
 
 " Then how did you get to the top ?" 
 
 "On my marrow-bones. To save my
 
 " COSE DI EOMA." 181 
 
 soul, I rubbed off all tlie skin of my 
 knees; but for all the spiritual' good it did 
 me, I might as well try to cure my tooth- 
 aclie witli a violin. There were sixty of us 
 shuffling up bowing and kissing, and the 
 old woman before me was rather awkward 
 at the new work, for she kept hitting my 
 nose with her foot as she moved up a 
 step." 
 
 '' I'll bet you were thinking what she 
 was like, in the midst of your prayers. 
 Confess now." 
 
 '' Come, comrade, don't play the priest ; 
 I might have debated it when I saw the 
 foot, but when she looked round — Santo 
 Bamhino ! her face made me pray twice as 
 hard to the Holy Mother to keep me from 
 the evil eye." 
 
 '' Now if she was as good-looking as 
 the girl here, then I know you'd have 
 clipped your prayers and left the Virgin to 
 finish her Ave herself. That brute Dagot 
 how he dodges her ; it seems as if he were
 
 182 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 after miscliief ; I liope Du Petit Bourg will 
 keep liis eye on him," 
 
 "I'll forfeit tliis cap, wliicli I liad on 
 wlien Innocent blessed us, or my Scala 
 Santa leggins, but I sliould not wisli harm 
 to come to this lot." 
 
 "But talking of your scala, I suppose 
 you earned a good plenary indulgence ? 
 What did you get for each step ?" 
 
 " Oh, if I remember rightly, nine years' 
 indulgence ; and well earned, grinding up 
 on one's knees, kissing every step, and 
 mumbling a Pater and an Ave.'' 
 
 " What do you mean by an indulgence ? 
 only nine years of it would not be worth the 
 skinning !" 
 
 " Oh don't ask me points of faith, I 
 don't know, and no one else. I never could 
 find one yet who could tell me what it did 
 mean. When I confessed at Rome I asked 
 the friar especially about the indulgence, 
 but he gave me some cloudy answer, that I 
 was as wise as a bear in a bull-fight."
 
 COSE DI EOMA." 183 
 
 ''Well, wliat else have you seen?" 
 
 "Oh I can't tell you, I forget. At 
 Padua I recollect seeing old Anthony 
 preachmg to the fishes. He was a fine 
 preacher, he was, but I should be sorry if 
 our fi:'iar got a hint from him, for now if I 
 can't sleep in bed I'm sure of a nap in 
 church in Lent when I go. Why, man, 
 the fishes were staring and opening their 
 months, eels, tm^bots, flounders, soles, with 
 their heads out of water, winking religiously 
 and showing their teeth ; and they've got 
 many bits of him among their relics, as 
 fi:*esh as when he was ahve, but I didn't 
 see these." 
 
 ''Ah!" replied his companion, "it's 
 a fine thing to travel, it opens your mind 
 and your mouth too. But hark ! I hear 
 the bugle. What does it mean ? Here, 
 Capet, come tell us our orders." 
 
 "The Captain talks of flitting," replied 
 the man. "In an hour we are to march to 
 Yillar, up the valley, and I'm afraid we
 
 184 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 sliall not get as good a supper as we 
 do here, nor get our clieese toasted so 
 brown." 
 
 ^^ It's a bore," said Parelles, '*to turn 
 out, they've made us comfortable, and tliat 
 old mother in black, and your favourite 
 girl, knew exactly how much sugar to put 
 into my drink. You admit this, don't you, 
 Lenois ?" 
 
 " Their kitchen," replied the dogged 
 Lenois, " is better than their creed." 
 
 " Well," said MuUenier, '* I suppose we 
 must get ready. I'm sorry for ourselves, 
 but glad for them, poor things. Would 
 that the day might come when I could do 
 any of them a good turn. Bless that girl, 
 I'd risk something to serve her." 
 
 " Boy," cried Parelles, addressing Ber- 
 tin, who was passing, '' say good bye for us 
 to your aunts, cousins, and grandfather. 
 And now to horse in the name of our 
 most Christian King, Louis XIY."
 
 CHAPTER XYT, 
 
 THE PELICE. 
 
 Aftee the witlidrawal of the soldiers billeted 
 at La Baudene, the family circle had re- 
 sumed their usual routine, and from the 
 middle of the month had pursued their 
 ordinary avocations without molestation. 
 
 It was on the evening of the 25th of 
 January (a date still salient in the bloody 
 chronicles of the Waldensian valleys) that 
 Ardoine, having fulfilled her household 
 duties, was tempted by the sunshine to 
 visit her favourites in the meadow, near the 
 Pelice. Having tied her kerchief loosely 
 round her head, and thriftily taken her 
 knitting apparatus to redeem the spare
 
 186 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 moments, she tripped gaily to tlie river 
 side. The cattle lifted their heads, acknow- 
 ledging in their brute instinct the presence 
 of her whose hand caressed them, or gave 
 them their dainty bit. Having thrown her 
 arms round Brunon, and indulged in the 
 expression of her artless affection, Ardoine 
 began to ply her work, wandering on till 
 she reached the Police. 
 
 Standing on the bank she watched the 
 river as it eddied among the stones, now 
 gliding in a glassy silent stream, in which 
 the motion mocks the tracings of the eye ; 
 now broken into crested roaring foam, as 
 some barrier of rock chafed the descending 
 current ; and then beyond relapsing once 
 more into a motionless lake-like mirror. 
 
 She paused on coming to a spot where 
 the stream ran deep and clear. Laying 
 down her knitting implements, the maiden 
 Imelt upon the bank, and looked into the 
 darkened yet crystal pool, as if she would 
 coimt the glossy pebbles beneath. The
 
 THE FELICE. 187 
 
 sun was sliining, and its rays glanced on 
 the tremulous water, dappling the stony 
 bed beneath, which quivered in the wavy 
 light. Heaven and earth were friendly 
 to the maiden, for sun and water com- 
 bined together to render homage to her 
 beauty. 
 
 Sketched upon the brittle stream the 
 girl beheld the image of herself. Her golden 
 tresses, her snowy brow, her dazzling eyes, 
 her minutest features, were reproduced as 
 in a glass. Bending forward she gazed 
 admiringly at the fairy likeness, and having 
 looked once, she would not have been true 
 to woman's instincts if she had not looked 
 again, with a more protracted gaze, at the 
 portrait wrought so simply, yet so exqui- 
 sitely, by Nature herself. Her feelings were 
 but the flitting thoughts of the moment, 
 the unconscious action of human nature. 
 After a moment's pause she dipped her 
 hand into the shallower water, and picking 
 up a pebble cast it into the glassy pool,
 
 188 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 and smilingly watched tlie shivered por- 
 trait "wliicli was scattered upon tlie circling 
 ripples. 
 
 " Thou art marred," she exclaimed, 
 with a sigh, '' thou frail type of human 
 life ! Now all is smooth, and hope smiles, 
 then some unforeseen blow comes, and 
 breaks the images of peace our hearts had 
 shapen unawares, and makes our bright 
 visions like yon disjointed portrait on the 
 troubled water." 
 
 She continued looking into the stream, 
 and watched the gradual relapse of the 
 ripples, until she saw the reflection of an 
 approaching figure, and turning beheld her 
 cousin Raynald. 
 
 " Welcome to the brook, dear Eaynald, 
 is not this a bright sunshiny day for 
 January? It makes me feel quite fresh 
 after mother's sick room." 
 
 "It is bright, cousin, to those who 
 have no weight upon their heart ; but to 
 those who have, nature's smiles seem
 
 THE FELICE. 189 
 
 mockery, speaking of joys they cannot 
 find within." 
 
 ''Cousin, cousin," said Ardoine, raising 
 her eyes, '' what means this ? Who should 
 be happier than you, young and strong, 
 the favourite of our home circle ?" 
 
 '' Ah ! but there is one in that circle 
 whose smile I would strive to win ; my 
 heart craves the companionship of one." 
 
 " Who is that, Raynald ? It is hardly 
 right to prefer one to the others, for all 
 are delighted to have your company, and 
 look brightly when they hear your voice." 
 
 " Cannot you guess who it is I should 
 wish to have ever by my side, whose voice 
 I would fain hear chanting my Banz des 
 Vaches, and under whose eye I would re- 
 view my fold ?" 
 
 " I am sure there are many you would 
 like to have with you, for I know you are 
 not fond of being alone. There is Aunt 
 Lucille, who is so cheerful and good- 
 natured, and Aunt Renee, who sings
 
 190 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 SO sweetly; you would be glad to hear 
 them sing as you pasture your flock on the 
 mountain." 
 
 " Ardoine, I often think how happy I 
 have been with you from childhood, how 
 we have grown up together, and rambled 
 over these hills side by side — you are part 
 of my earliest and brightest memories. 
 If you were gone from La Baudene, I am 
 afraid I should find it a melancholy place." 
 
 " Oh, don't say so, Raynald ; I am sure 
 there would be a great many friends left, 
 so you would not miss me long ; but it is 
 very kind of you, Eaynald, to think 
 thus." 
 
 " Ardoine, I have often been to Turin, 
 and looked at the maidens in the city — 
 many of them boast bright eyes and raven 
 hair, but none ever make me forget your 
 eyes, and I have never seen any who have 
 such beautiful hair as yours." 
 
 '' Dear Raynald, you are my cousin, 
 and you think too kindly of me. Look at
 
 THE FELICE. 191 
 
 this stream, the water has settled, you can 
 see my face quite naturally there ; now 
 look, I am going to spoil the fine picture 
 with this stone." 
 
 " Oh don't, Ardoine," said the young 
 man, laying his hand on her arm ; ''I 
 can't have that face spoiled ; even the very 
 water is my friend, and loves your face. 
 Would that I could have it ever before 
 me ! If you could read my heart you would 
 see that picture which the water reflects 
 stamped there also. I have one great 
 desire, and that is to please you, and to do 
 what you wish. Will you let me please 
 you?" 
 
 " Let you please me ? of course I will. 
 I will tell you what I wish if it will give 
 you pleasure to do it. We should give 
 pleasure to others when we can, and I am 
 sure I ought to do so, to my kind and 
 favourite cousin." 
 
 " Dear Ardoine, I am afraid you do not 
 understand what I mean ; I want you to
 
 192 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 give me some great work to do, that I may 
 win your smile. It is strange, but one 
 kind word from you will make me do 
 wonders." 
 
 '* But I trust, dear Raynald, that I am 
 always kind, at least I wish to be so ; I 
 would never say a cross word wilfully. If 
 I do, it is poor human nature. How could 
 I kneel down by mother's bed at night, if 
 I had said anything to vex you, or anybody 
 else ?" 
 
 *^ Oh, no, you would not grieve me, you 
 never do, you are always good and gentle ; 
 but when I come near you I become so 
 weak, and often begin to tremble. If I 
 think you are not happy a load comes upon 
 my heart, and I feel that I can do anything to 
 make you so ; and when you smile and look 
 on me, I want no other happiness than to 
 look at you and hope that you are thinking 
 of me." 
 
 " If that makes you happy then I am 
 sure you may be so. Do not I often look
 
 THE PELICE. 193 
 
 at you every day, and tliink of you, too, 
 when I say my prayers morning and even- 
 ing ? Well, after wliat you have said, 
 Eaynald, I shall try you ; let me hear a 
 verse of that song you sing when you call 
 your goats in at eventide." 
 
 " Oh, dear cousin, excuse me, I can't 
 sing; you must forgive me; my heart 
 won't let me sing ; if I tried I should be 
 quite out of tune, and that would grate on 
 your ear." 
 
 " What, are you so soon faithless to your 
 promises ? Oh, Raynald ! Well, then, let 
 me cheer you ; I will sing you a verse which 
 I know is your favourite." 
 
 So saying, without further preamble, 
 Ardoine sang — 
 
 " Tout dort dans la nature, 
 Un seul ruisseau murmure." 
 
 The young man gazed at her with the 
 fixity of admiration and reverence as she 
 poured forth her notes. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 She was tlie anti-type of liis uncon- 
 scious day-dreams, tlie being tliat tlmlled 
 his life with purpose, and filled the restless 
 void of his yearning heart. In her pre- 
 sence the dauntless mountaineer became 
 a child, for the touch of her little finger 
 could make him tremble from head to 
 foot. 
 
 He drank m her song with silent rap- 
 ture, but his expression was tinged with 
 sorrow, and his changing colour betrayed 
 his uiward struggles. He listened with 
 half-open lips, as if he dared not breathe, 
 lest he should lose a syllable, but the in- 
 voluntary sigh declared that the pleasure 
 was allied to pain. 
 
 " There, Eaynald," said the girl, throw- 
 ing back her gleaming tresses, which had 
 escaped from her kerchief, '^ I have been 
 kinder than you. Come, my dear cousin, 
 do not look so grave or sad, for I hope 
 there is no gloomy news. Now we must 
 ^0 home, for I have been out a long
 
 THE FELICE. 195 
 
 time ; motlier will be wanting me, and 
 we are botli away from lier, and grand- 
 father will be waiting for bis evening 
 chapter to be read ; the boys will want to 
 hear a little story, and I must see if they 
 know their verses, and it will soon be time 
 to send the little ones to bed ; so I think 
 we must return. Now you may give 
 me your hand to help me among these 
 stones, and then I shall tell them all 
 how kind and useful my dear cousin has 
 been." 
 
 ''"Wait a moment, Ardoine," said Ray- 
 nald, " I must run to the chalet and loose 
 poor Liberta, whom I left tied up there. 
 I shall not be long." So saying, he darted 
 off, and was soon out of sight. 
 
 Ardoine resumed her knitting, hum- 
 ming to herself snatches of mountain songs, 
 and looking from time to time into the 
 floAving current. She stepped on some 
 large stones which lay dry in the bed of the 
 stream. She had not long been left alone
 
 196 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 before slie lieard footsteps, and turning 
 round saw the French soldier, Dagot, one 
 of those who had been billeted on the farm. 
 She had always beheld his sinister expres- 
 sion with alarm and horror. 
 
 " Come, my pretty maid, I am lucky to 
 find you alone, your bright eyes don't need 
 candle-light. You have got a French soldier 
 for a lover. I've been to Pavia, I've 
 fought the Pope knows where," said the 
 soldier, who stood between Ardoine and the 
 bank. 
 
 " Sh%" replied the girl, ^'I do not un- 
 derstand you ; were you not one of those 
 who were lodged at our farm ? I trust 
 you do not mean me ill." 
 
 '' Mean you ill ? wedlock with a brave 
 soldier of fortune is not an ill, you may do 
 better with me than with some frowsy 
 goatherd." 
 
 " I pray you leave me ; it is not the 
 custom with us for men to waylay lonely 
 girls ; leave me, if you have any of that
 
 THE PELICE. 197 
 
 honour of wliicli tlie Frencli are always 
 boastinof." 
 
 " ISTaj, nay, I could not leave you ; it is 
 a cliance of war to find you alone. You 
 must come along with me," and the 
 soldier stepped out on the stones. 
 
 "If you come nearer, I will leap into 
 the river," replied Ardoine, with a convul- 
 sive shudder. " I should have thought a 
 Frenchman would be ashamed to attack a 
 poor girl." 
 
 " Come, my love," said Dagot, sud- 
 denly leaping forward ; seizing her by the 
 wrist he dragged her from the stones to- 
 wards the bank. 
 
 But an arm was lifted up to thwart his 
 wicked purpose. A well-directed blow 
 from behind struck him on the head. The 
 soldier, entangled with his sword and 
 musket, fell with a crash into the 
 river, troubling the glassy pool which 
 had so lately reflected that maiden's 
 face.
 
 198 THE SIX SISTERS OE THE VALLEYS. 
 
 Drenclied to tlie skin lie floundered in 
 tlie water, wliich clioked liis half-expressed 
 oatlis and cries. The current was strong, 
 but at length he grasped the roughness of 
 the rock with the tips of his fingers, and 
 succeeded in keeping his eyes and nose 
 above the water. 
 
 " Come, Ardoine," said Raynald, ''don't 
 be frightened, take my arm. I will fetch you 
 a drink in my hat. Don't be afraid, he'll 
 not come again ; his musket is wet, and 
 he will have enough to do to keep himself 
 afloat till somebody helps him out. If he 
 comes again I'll not let him off so easily. 
 Don't tremble, darling, forget all about it. 
 I can see the farm before us, and some of 
 the children are waiting for you. Thank 
 God, all's well that ends well. Look, here's 
 our true friend, Liberta ; you'd mark his 
 throat, old boy, if your mistress was in 
 danger." 
 
 When Eaynald felt that fragile arm 
 resting on his, he thought that the reward
 
 THE TELICE. 199 
 
 was beyond tlie sliglit effort he had made, 
 and that he could brave danger in its 
 deadhest form could he but win one smile 
 of encouragement from her he so ardently 
 loved.
 
 CHAPTER XYII. 
 
 THE PLAGUE. 
 
 During the same afternoon the family liad 
 been joined by tlie Moderator Leger, who 
 was a frequent and a welcome" guest at 
 La Baud^ne. 
 
 "Well, Father Rodolphe," said the 
 Moderator, as he entered, '' I greet you, 
 and my little ones ; how are they all ?" 
 
 " We are so glad to see you, Barba," 
 said Etienne, " for we like to listen to your 
 stories." 
 
 " Have you remembered what I told 
 you last time about my uncle, who was at 
 Constantinople, and knew the martyr Cyril 
 Lucar, the Greek patriarch ?"
 
 THE PLAGUE. 201 
 
 *' I remember that," said Etienne ; " you 
 said lie was a Protestant in heart, and 
 -wTote a celebrated confession of faith." 
 
 " Uncle Leger," said Bertin, who had 
 been reflecting for some time, '' I hope you 
 will not think me rude, but I want to know 
 how it is you have broken that front tooth." 
 
 " I will tell you, my boy. Many years 
 ago I was pastor of Roderet, and was over- 
 taken in a snow-storm; my head was, as 
 it were, frozen. I became so ill that I was 
 given up as dead; my ears were swollen 
 and my jaws locked, so to try to save me they 
 broke one of my front teeth, and then they 
 inserted a silver tube, and sustained life by 
 pouring down some Hquids." 
 
 " Thank you for telling me, Barba," 
 said Bertin, satisfied with the explanation. 
 
 *' The sight of you, friend Leger," said 
 Rodolphe, " reminds me of times past when 
 I was Moderator ; troublous times they 
 were, especially in 1630, the year of the 
 plague."
 
 202 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 " Oil, do tell us sometliing about it, 
 grandfatlier," said little Revel, ''we all 
 like to liear you relate anything tliat liap- 
 pened a long time ago." 
 
 " Well, well, dear children, if you like 
 to listen to an old man's rambling on tlie 
 past, you sliall ; for wlio knows," said lie, 
 sigliing, '' whether we shall often be able 
 to meet in this way. Come round me, 
 then, daughters and little ones, and let me 
 refresh your memories." 
 
 " There, Aline and Lena, you can sit 
 opposite one another, one on each knee, 
 and sit very quietly while grandfather 
 speaks," said Rodolphe, giving them each 
 a kiss. 
 
 " Ah ! I remember well the year 1629 ; 
 it was the year in which I lost your mother, 
 the year in which Eaynald was born. It 
 was on the 23rd of August. I was out on 
 the mountains visiting some of my flock, 
 about eight o'clock in the morning, when a 
 most extraordinary water- spout was visible
 
 THE PLAGUE. 203 
 
 in tlie heavens, over tlie Col Julian. 
 A perfect deluge Tvas suspended in tlie 
 atmospliere ; it liung tliere for a time like 
 a dark cloud of rain, and then broke sud- 
 denly over the peaks of tke Col. The 
 inundation was fearful, like oui^ Pelice, 
 when flooded with the melting snows of 
 spring. It went down both sides of the 
 mountain to the village of Pral, in St. 
 MartiQ, and down to Bobi, in our valley. 
 The people had hardly time to get out of 
 their houses before they were filled with 
 water, and swept away. Huge fi'agments 
 of rock were borne down by the stream, 
 crushing the houses, and kiLliQg many per- 
 sons. The storm was awful ; it came sud- 
 denly, and so it disappeared." 
 
 " But were you able to keep out of the 
 way, gi^andfather ?" asked Yalere. 
 
 "Yes, my boy, Grod preserved me. I 
 was out of danger, and able to pray 
 to God to succour those who were ui 
 peril."
 
 204 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 " "Well, go on, grandfather, tell ns again 
 the history of the plague." 
 
 " In September, after this storm, there 
 was a very extraordinary cold wind, which, 
 as our friend Gilles has it, ' marched in 
 company with a very dry haze.' It de- 
 stroyed the fruit of those magnificent 
 chestnuts with which our hills are covered, 
 and under which, Etienne, you are so fond 
 of playing, and picking up the fallen nuts." 
 
 ''Yes, grandfather, but I always like to 
 bring the best to you or Ardoine." 
 
 "Your mother first, my boy. Well, 
 after the cold wind came a great quantity 
 of rain, and this caused all our crop of 
 grapes to perish. It seemed as if we were 
 to suffer from a famine again, as we had 
 done two years before, in 1628, when our 
 people had such difficulty in living, as the 
 priests had forbidden the Catholics to allow 
 our brethren to work on their farms. We 
 assembled together in synod on the 12th of 
 September; our meeting was marked by
 
 THE TLAGUE. 205 
 
 great solemnity : a spirit of love drew us 
 together, and knit us as one man. There 
 were fifteen pastors ; none thought that in 
 a few months thirteen would have perished, 
 and onlj' two survive. It was in that year 
 the convent and church of the Grey Friars 
 at La Tour were built." 
 
 '' What ! that ugly-looking building," 
 said Bertin, " that looks like a prison, and 
 makes me tremble and run when I see the 
 men inside the bars, with those things on 
 their heads ?" 
 
 "Then we had, in 1630, the French 
 army which Cardinal De Eichelieu sent 
 here, just as we have these French troops 
 amongst us now under the Marshal 
 G-rancey. We were obliged to submit to 
 France, as no help could be obtained ; and 
 I was one of those deputies who went to 
 meet the king, Louis XIII., at the village 
 of Montiers, not far from Lyons, to ask 
 for the confirmation of our privileges. The 
 plague had broken out in France, and was
 
 206 THE SIX SISTEES OP THE VALLEYS. 
 
 brouglit among us by tlie Frencli. It ap- 
 peared first at Les Fortes in St. Germain 
 and at Pral. As soon as it was known, we 
 pastors met together at Pramol. Raynald 
 took you there last summer, did he not ?" 
 
 ''Yes," said young Revel, who was all 
 attention. 
 
 '' That was where your grandfather 
 stood twenty-five years ago, and you, 
 Janavel, stood by my side. We met to 
 seek the Lord, and by prayer, meditation, 
 and conference to know the path of duty 
 under our difficulties. We resolved to 
 celebrate an extraordinary fast, but the 
 armed men prevented our doing so ; so 
 each was to do what he could in his own 
 parish. A few days after we had met at 
 Pramol, the plague showed itself. We 
 were then obliged to meet on the Sundays 
 in the open fields ; but as it was May, it 
 caused us no discomfort." 
 
 ''And was the plague then in our 
 valley?"
 
 THE PLAGUE. 207 
 
 " ^0, not yet ; but it soon came to La 
 Tour. The price of everytliing went up 
 immenselj ; tlie Frencli surgeon demanded 
 fifty pistoles of gold for bleeding a man, 
 and some persons gave away estates to 
 friends, wlio would promise only to bury 
 tliem if tliey died. On July tlie 12th, poor 
 Bernardin, pastor of Pral, died, and on 
 the 24th the pastor of Angrogna. Seven 
 others died during the next month. The 
 survivors met in that mountain which you 
 all know. Mount Saumette, near the Ya- 
 chere, and which is the nearest place to 
 Angrogna, Pramol, and Prarusting. We 
 met on the 2nd of August; there were 
 only six of us then to do the work of all 
 the churches. Three of the six died soon 
 after." 
 
 " Oh, grandfather, and you were still 
 alive, though you had seen so many others 
 die!" 
 
 " Yes, God's providence preserved me. 
 We three survivors met again on the
 
 208 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 lieiglits of Angrogna, to consider wliat we 
 could do to supply the cliurclies. We 
 wrote to Constantinople, to Geneva, and 
 to Dauptiny. Not long after another died, 
 and there remained only two to perform the 
 duty for the whole of the three valleys." 
 
 " How many people do you think died, 
 Etienne?" asked the Moderator. 
 
 '' I have told you, I think, my boy." 
 ''You said 12,000, grandfather." 
 ''Yes, 12,000 : at La Tour fifty families 
 were swept away. The harvests rotted on 
 the fields unreaped, the fruits dropped from 
 the trees, horsemen fell from their horses 
 in the middle of the road, and remained 
 unburied on the spot — the great roads were 
 strewn with so many bodies of men and 
 beasts that it was dangerous to pass along 
 them. The solitude of the desert came 
 upon many towns; servants' wages were 
 four times their ordinary rate, Lucille, and 
 there were no nurses for the poor babies 
 who were born at this time."
 
 THE PLAGUE. 209 
 
 " Alas !" replied Martha, '' I remember 
 it well, and the difficulty I had iu nursing 
 Raynald." 
 
 "My friend and brother, Gilles, the 
 historian, lost four of his sons. For 
 some time I was alone, and had the 
 care of all the churches. I went into all 
 the parishes twice every Sunday, and once 
 at least on every day in the week. I visited 
 the sick without fear of death, knowing 
 that the hairs of my head were numbered, 
 and that a thousand might fall beside me, 
 and ten thousand at my right hand, but it 
 might not come nigh me. I passed amidst 
 persons infected with the plague, and 
 through villages which presented only spec- 
 tacles of death, and I might truly say — 
 
 ' Ubique, 
 Luctus, ubique pavor, et plurima mortis imago.' 
 
 It was at this time, when new pastors had 
 come from Geneva, that we were obliged to 
 use the French language for preaching in- 
 stead of the Italian." 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 210 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 "And what more liaclyouto do, grand- 
 fatlier, wlien tlie plague ceased?" 
 
 " Oil, we had a great deal to do to 
 arrange matters in every parish, and it was 
 most extraordinary what a number of mar- 
 riages took place afterwards. The reason 
 was plain — in most places the plague had 
 deprived husbands of their wives, and 
 wives of their husbands, so that each one 
 sought to be united again to some lone 
 sister or brother, in order to build up their 
 ruined houses. These marriages were not 
 celebrated with noise and mirth, as is com- 
 mon and natural, they were rather like the 
 conclusion of funeral solemnities ; they 
 were marked by prayers to God, rather 
 than by the songs of the viol or tabret. We 
 suffered during that short period from the 
 three worst plagues that can afBict the 
 human race — famine, pestilence, and war, 
 but God's inscrutable providence preserved 
 me through that terrible time. I was one of 
 the two pastors who survived; but I feel now
 
 THE PLAGUE. 211 
 
 that mj time is drawing near ; ere long I 
 sliall be gatlierecl to my fathers, and per- 
 haps in a way more dreadful than the 
 visitation of the plague." 
 
 " Oh, don't say so, grandfather," said 
 Etienne, " I am sure we cannot spare 
 you ; we should all miss you so much if 
 you were to die." 
 
 ''"Well, children," said Janavel, "will 
 you not thank grandfather for his interest- 
 ing history ? some of you will remember it, 
 perhaps, after he has gone." 
 
 " Oh, yes," rephed Yalere, clapping his 
 hands, '' thank you, grandfather, your ac- 
 count is sad, but very interesting." 
 
 "I hope, please God," said Bertin, 
 " that we shall have no plague in our 
 days." 
 
 '' We have the plague of monks," said 
 Janavel, " and we cannot tell what evils 
 they may bring about ; but the same God 
 who preserved my father through that 
 stalking pestilence can preserve us. Chil-
 
 212 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 dren, see the sun is setting ; say good bye 
 to grandfather, for lie is tired. You have 
 arrived just in time, Eaynald ; take your 
 hat, and escort the Moderator as far as 
 the bridge of pines."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE EDICT. 
 
 The Moderator Leger was leaving La 
 Baudene, and several of the family had 
 assembled in the cornet to bid him farewell, 
 and to watch the deepening shadows of 
 evening, when they were startled by the 
 tramp of approacliing horses. They in- 
 voluntarily turned their eyes in the direction 
 of the sound, and observed, through the 
 outer archway, a Piedmontese officer riding 
 up the avenue which led to the farm. 
 Passing through the half-opened door with- 
 out ceremony, he advanced towards the 
 group which was standing on the opposite 
 side of the cornet.
 
 214 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 He was dressed in tlie regimentals of 
 Savoj ; liis spurred boots, liis sword witli 
 its jewelled liandle, his cap and plume, in- 
 dicated liim to be a person of distinction, 
 and probably allied to noble blood. In bis 
 band be carried a scroll of parcbment, 
 wliicb be nervously unrolled and rolled 
 several times. 
 
 "Heretics!" cried be, approacliing tbe 
 group, and bolding out tbe scroll in bis 
 rigbt band, '' your farm is outside tbe ac- 
 knowledged limits in wbicb you bave been 
 tolerated by law. Gastaldo, tbe Papal 
 Delegate, bas issued an order, commandmg 
 you to recant, and come to mass ; if you 
 will not, your lease is out in tbree days." 
 
 "Sir," said Janavel, "if tbis be indeed 
 your commission, it may well cause us sur- 
 prise and consternation. We bave as yet 
 beard notbing on tbe subject, and, witbout 
 evidence, we bardly dare insult our Duke 
 by supposing be could sanction so iniqui- 
 tous a measure."
 
 THE EDICT. 215 
 
 '' Tlie edict lias liis sanction," replied 
 the officer. " He will liave only Catholic 
 tenants outside your guaranteed limits, 
 and, in case of your refusal to comply with 
 the terms, sends you notice to quit on 
 the 28th." 
 
 ''Oh, mother," said Susanne, '' what 
 does that strange man want, and what has 
 he said, which makes grandfather look so 
 unhappy ?" 
 
 The gloom of sorrow was visible on the 
 countenances of the group as they looked 
 at the officer, and began to comprehend 
 jhe purport of his mission. 
 
 Troubles which break in upon us un- 
 awares are often but gradually realized; 
 after the first stupefaction and distrust, 
 comes the poignancy of the bitter recoil, 
 and then the event seems like some cruel 
 dream, which has left us oppressed with a 
 crushing weight, to imderstand which we 
 must awake to reflection, and retrace the 
 harrowing past.
 
 216 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 It was tlms witli the family at La 
 Baudene. The announcement of this edict 
 fell upon them like a thunderbolt. Its first 
 effect produced stupefaction and unbelief; 
 its reaction horror and agony. 
 
 A silence, still as death, spell-bound that 
 circle, during which the occasional champ- 
 ing of the horse's bit was the only sound 
 audible. Raynald was the first to recover 
 from the consternation of grief; he ad- 
 vanced towards the ofl&cer, and laying his 
 hand on the bridle of the horse, said — j 
 
 " By whose authority do you announce 
 this order, and what have you to prove the 
 truth of your assertion?" 
 
 '^ The proof of my commission is this 
 parchment, signed by the Delegate Gas- 
 taldo, and sealed with the arms of Savoy. 
 I bear the commission of the Duke, and 
 am the son of the Marquis of Pianesse." 
 
 " The Duke," rephed Haynald, bitterly, 
 '' might find more fitting work for his 
 officers against his country's enemies, than
 
 THE EDICT. 217 
 
 sending tliem to bring misery into tlie 
 peaceful families of liis own subjects." 
 
 '' You are Italians by birth," said 
 Ecliard; ''wliy do you not belong to tlie 
 one true Cliurcli establislied in tlie land, 
 and then you would be our brothers as well 
 in €reed as by blood ?" 
 
 " Perhaps," said Eaynald, ''you are the 
 officer in charge of these brigands and out- 
 laws that come from Pignerol and elsewhere, 
 to plunder and murder in our valleys." 
 
 •' Call not the Duke's soldiers brigands, 
 young man," retorted the officer, grasping 
 his sword, " or it may fare badly with you 
 unless you retract your words." 
 
 ''And this is done in the name of re- 
 ligion !" continued Raynald. "What reli- 
 gion is this which makes us outcasts from 
 our homes, and by threats of confiscation 
 and death would win us to the Roman 
 Church ? Do you think Peter or Paul 
 would have converted in this manner at 
 Rome?"
 
 218 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 "Keep your theology to yourself, young 
 Luther. I am not sent here to argue, but 
 to discharge my duty. You have heard your 
 orders. If you want to keep yom^ freeholds, 
 you can see that an alternative is allowed 
 you in the proclamation." 
 
 "Of base apostacy, I suppose," said Ray- 
 nald ; "for my part I would sooner forfeit 
 every acre, than be seduced by the Pope of 
 Eome or his monkish brigands." 
 
 " Young harhet, is this your submission 
 to yom- Sovereign ? I thought that loyalty 
 was part of your creed." 
 
 "We have always been loyal," rejoined 
 Rodolphe, "although the numerous out- 
 rages of this sort from which we have suf- 
 fered have been enough to extinguish our 
 allegiance to the house of Savoy." 
 
 "' The edict is not mine, old man, I am 
 but the bearer of it," said the officer, look- 
 ing with interest at the group of children 
 who were standing near the door. " It 
 grieves me to serve this notice of eject-
 
 THE EDICT. 219 
 
 ment, as you appear to be a large and 
 happy family/' 
 
 '' Hypocrite," said Raynald, " add not 
 insnlt to injury ; we have heard so many 
 soft professions from Eome's emissaries 
 that we value them at their worth." 
 
 '' Heretic dog," exclaimed the ofl&cer, 
 '^ you will provoke me to do violence to my 
 feelings to curb your insolence." 
 
 ''I wish," continued Rajmald, ''that 
 Gastaldo, or the Duke, had a month's 
 experience of the mountains at this time 
 of year." 
 
 " Hush, Raynald," said Rodolphe, ap- 
 proachmg his grandson, ''the Lord hath 
 sent this young man, in his providence, 
 even as He permitted Shimei to curse 
 David. ' It is the Lord, let Him do 
 what seemeth Him good.' Let not your 
 temper embroil us, or it will be worse for 
 us all." 
 
 "Aged father, your advice is sound," 
 replied E chard, unrolling the parchment;
 
 220 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 *' to bend is easier tlian to resist, if you 
 will not accept the terms. But I will read 
 Grastaldo's edict, as I was ordered to pub- 
 lisli it, and you will tlien see tbat I do 
 not exceed my painful commission." 
 
 Ecliard tben read in a loud and distinct 
 voice the following : — 
 
 "Andre Gastaldo, Docteur es Lois, 
 Conseiller, Maitre Auditeur ordinaire, scant 
 en la tres-Illustre Chambre des Comtes de 
 S. A. R. et Conservateur general de la 
 Sainte Foy, pour 1' observation des Ordres 
 publics contre la pretendue Religion Re- 
 formee des Yallees de Lucerne, de Perouse, 
 et de S. Martin, et a cet effet specialement 
 depute par S. A. R." 
 
 After mumbling rapidly to himself the 
 beginning of the order, he continued in a 
 loud tone : — 
 
 '' Qu'ils ayent, dans trois jours pro- 
 chains, depuis la publication et execution
 
 ECHABD ANNOUNCING GASTALDO S EDICT. 
 
 Page 220.
 
 THE EDICT. 221 
 
 cles presentes, a se retirer, abandonner, et 
 delaisser les dits lieux avec toutes leurs 
 families, et se transporter es quartiers et 
 limites que S. A. E. tolere, jusqu' a son bon 
 plaisir, qui sont Bobbi, Yillar, Angrogne 
 Eoras, et la contree des Bonnets, sous 
 peine de la vie, et de la confiscation de 
 leurs maisons et biens, qui se rencontrent 
 liors des dites limites : et ce toutes-fois et 
 quantes que dans vingt jours suivans, Us 
 ne facent conster jpar devant nous quails se 
 sont Catfiolises, ou quails ont vendu leurs 
 Mens a des Gatholiqaes. 
 
 "Donne a Lucerne le 25 Janvier, 1655. 
 " Signe : 
 
 "Andre Gastaldo, 
 
 "Auditeur Depute." 
 
 " Friend," said Janavel, looking tlie 
 officer steadily in the face, " tell yoiu* Duke 
 not to play the hypocrite before the world 
 by sa^ang that he punishes us for rebellion, 
 and not for our religion. We have always
 
 222 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 been loyal, and have served liim well in 
 different times of need. Our obedience to 
 tliis cruel edict will prove tliat we are loyal. 
 It is only for our religion that he perse- 
 cutes us. You see that all is conceded if 
 we will abjure and go to mass." 
 
 ^'Well, you must settle that with the 
 Duke, or Gastaldo ; I am not responsible 
 for their deeds nor motives. I have only 
 to tell you a plain fact, although it's a sad 
 one ; and an irritating one as would appear 
 from the temper of my friend there, 
 who seemed inclined to try his strength 
 with me ; but I presume I should be a 
 match for his long arms, or I am mis- 
 taken." 
 
 ^' The Pope's officers always take good 
 care to keep their steel gloves on when 
 there' s danger," retorted Raynald. "Throw 
 away your jewelled sword, and I should not 
 be afraid to try your sinews, and see if the 
 pampered courtier would match the peasant 
 who has fed on pulse and water."
 
 THE EDICT. 223 
 
 " Low-born climi," said Ecliard, losing 
 his temper, " since yon are so anxions for 
 tlie 'experiment the opportunity may come 
 hereafter." 
 
 " Oh, sir," said Martha, clasping his 
 knee, and looking np into his face with a 
 look of nnntterable emotion, which thrilled 
 E chard to his sonl, " have mercy on us ! 
 look at that old man, my father ; is there 
 no regard due to those white hairs ? how 
 can he survive if turned out in the snow 
 and rain upon the mountains at this time 
 of the year ? Look at om^ little ones — 
 will you scatter us ? will you kill us ? Oh, 
 be our friend — intercede for us." 
 
 '' Madam," said Echard, overcome with 
 the earnest appeal, " I grieve for you. 
 God forgive me if I am instrumentally a 
 destroyer of homes, and a scatterer of the 
 fatherless. I can almost feel myself that 
 there is something in your glorious Alps 
 which makes you love your free mountain 
 home."
 
 224 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 E chard felt the searching eloquence of 
 those tearful eyes, gazing upon him with 
 an intensity of eagerness, as if a thousand 
 throbbing memories struggled within her 
 breast. At length, overcome with her 
 feelings, Martha fainted and sank into 
 Eaynald's arms. 
 
 Echard strove to conceal his emotion, 
 and turned his eyes on Janavel, whose 
 quiet dignity and noble mien, bearing the 
 stamp of nature's nobility, elicited his 
 admiration. 
 
 He gazed for a moment at the women 
 and the surrounding children, whose voices 
 were hushed from instinctive sympathy with 
 their parents' grief. He remembered the 
 rumours that he had heard of this peculiar 
 family, and the thought that lolande 
 was probably their guest increased his 
 interest. 
 
 " Sir," said Janavel, interrupting his 
 reflections, and addressing him as he was 
 turning his horse to depart, "yourcoun-
 
 THE EDICT. 225 
 
 tenance declares that your heart is not yet 
 seared with hypocrisy and blood. Would 
 that the Duke would reconsider his edict ! 
 Look round at our home which you will 
 break up ; your courage, I doubt not, would 
 lead you in the front of the battle, but act 
 not towards us as if we were enemies. If 
 you tremble in the discharge of this pre- 
 sent commission, it will do honour to your 
 heart as a man, and to your courage as a 
 soldier." 
 
 " I feel your words, but I cannot help 
 you. I now bid you good-day, for I must 
 call on your neighbours ; you had better be 
 packing up your moveables, while there is 
 time, for the Irish and the French may be 
 coming along the road, and a starving 
 hawk will not fatten nor last long on what 
 they leave." 
 
 "Alas I" said E chard to himself as he 
 rode away. " Is this the fruit of religion ? 
 To outrage persons because they are of a 
 different creed, to oppress loyal subjects, 
 
 VOL. I. Q,
 
 226 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 to make the widow and fatherless home- 
 less in the midst of winter? My con- 
 science is in doubt; I do not altogether 
 approve of these deeds, although I am a 
 Catholic, and have heard the arguments 
 loj which these actions are vindicated. I 
 cannot help feeling that this edict is harsh 
 and unjust, and my feelings revolt against 
 the employment of force or cruelty to win 
 converts to our creed. If our Church be 
 true, and they are really in danger of hell 
 fire, as our monks keep telling us, it seems 
 to me we ought to try the effect of kind- 
 ness and persuasion in this world, for 
 they will have to suffer enough hereafter. 
 It is a commission I do not relish, and 
 no honour to a soldier either. After all 
 I have much less zeal and faith since I have 
 been to Rome, and know what takes place 
 behind the scenes. 
 
 " Methinks this seems a loving family. 
 I like the bold spirit of that young fellow, 
 who was inclined to skirmish with me.
 
 THE EDICT. 227 
 
 and tlie calm intrepid glance of his father's 
 eagle eye. Lord ! lay not this sin to 
 the charge of the unwilling instrument." 
 
 Indulging in these reflections, E chard 
 galloped up the valley, until he reached 
 Les Eyrals at the entrance of La Tour.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE EDICT DISCUSSED. 
 
 ''This edict is most unjust and cruel!" 
 exclaimed Eaynald with indignation, as tlie 
 family gathered together the next evening 
 to arrange their plans. 
 
 "My boy," said Rodolphe, ''there are 
 too many precedents for it in history, and 
 Rome boasts of being semper eadem. It is 
 what C astro caro did when he was governor 
 of the valleys nearly a hundred years ago, 
 in 1566, when he commanded our fathers 
 to quit their dwellings in twenty-four hours, 
 under the pain of confiscation and death ; 
 then, in 1601, I remember, when I was a 
 young man, an order was published in the
 
 THE EDICT DISCUSSED. 229 
 
 Marquisate of Saluces, requiring our 
 brethren to go to mass, or to leave under 
 tlie same penalties. And some of you, my 
 children, may recollect, in 1634, how the 
 Prefect Ressan drove our friends out of 
 the commune of Campillon in twenty-four 
 hours, in the execution of a similar order. 
 It reminds me of the passage in Virgil I 
 was reading to you, Raynald — 
 
 " ' Veteres migrate coloni, 
 Nunc victi, tristes, quoniam fors omnia versat.' " 
 
 '' But the edict is unjust as well as 
 cruel — is it not, grandfather?" 
 
 " Yes, our right to live here, if not to 
 preach, has been recognized by numerous 
 edicts, as in the noted one of 1561. Again, 
 in 1603, we paid six thousand ducats for 
 the right of habitation, and the confirma- 
 tion of all our past privileges ; and it was 
 only last November that our Moderator 
 submitted to Gastaldo, and to the Counts 
 E-essan and Christopel, the originals of our
 
 230 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 conceded privileges, whicli were admitted 
 as valid, and were confirmed again by liis 
 Eoyal Higlmess." 
 
 " What are the motives, then, which 
 induce the Duke to forget the past, and 
 change his conduct so soon ?" 
 
 '' They are, doubtless, many and com- 
 plicated," said Janavel. " I attribute most 
 to the jubilee of 1650, with its first-fruits, 
 the institution of the Propaganda at Turin ; 
 then advantage is taken of the settlement 
 of monks in every commune, of the canton- 
 ment of soldiers, and of the various calum- 
 nies which have been so artfully spread 
 ^against us." 
 
 "But, children," said Rodolphe, "let 
 us consider our plans and decide our move- 
 ments ; for, though the edict speaks of an 
 alternative, I think we are all of one mind, 
 and ready to suffer rather than " 
 
 " Eecant," interrupted Janavel. " In- 
 deed we are. Our loyalty to the Duke is 
 unquestioned in matters civil ; but where
 
 THE EDICT DISCUSSED. 231 
 
 liberty of conscience is concerned, we must 
 obey God rather than man." 
 
 "But it's hard to bear what is so 
 shamefully unjust," said Raynald, his eye 
 flashino' with indication. "The Duke 
 ought to remember our services in '38, '39, 
 and '40. I've often heard you speak of our 
 loyalty when the Princes Maurice and 
 Thomas excited a revolution in Piedmont, 
 so that Madame was obhged to fly from 
 Turin." 
 
 " True," replied Janavel, " we did not 
 swerve from our allegiance to the tln^one. 
 Our valley of Lucerna was especially loyal, 
 and was in consequence cruelly ravaged 
 by the Marquis of Angrogna, who was in 
 open revolt." 
 
 " And this edict is om- reward for 
 loyalty, because we are Protestants ! while 
 the great rebellion of the Catholics is easily 
 forgotten." 
 
 "'Well, Raynald," calmly rejoined Eo- 
 dolphe, "let us discern the finger of God,
 
 232 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 wlio turnetli the hearts of men as rivers 
 of water, and wlio maketli the wicked the 
 ministers of his purpose. May his presence 
 go with US, and give us rest ; with Him 
 we have all things, and Paul counted all 
 things but loss for the excellency of Christ. 
 The old saying is quite true — 
 
 " ' Sine summo bono, nihil bonum.' " 
 
 ' ' What plan would you suggest, father ?' ' 
 asked Janavel. " I thought we might move 
 to Yillar, where our friends Jahier and 
 Michelin would afford us shelter, and there 
 await the course of events. It is one of 
 the four places mentioned in the edict, 
 and within our immemorial limits." 
 
 " I am afraid," suggested Madeleine in 
 a choking voice, "that the soldiers who 
 are quartered there will molest us." 
 
 " Should there be any danger of that, 
 Janavel, it would be wiser for us to sepa- 
 rate, and move to the higher valleys. 
 Some of us might find shelter in An-
 
 THE EDICT DISCUSSED. 233 
 
 grogna, otliers at Eora, and in extremis 
 we must, like our ancestors, take refuge in 
 the caverns of Castelluzzo ; but tliese are 
 casualties wliicli I trust may not liappen." 
 
 '' What do you think, father, we should 
 do with our guest, lolande ; would it not 
 be safer for her to leave us ?" 
 
 " Oh, do not desert me, kind pro- 
 tectors, I wish to learn more of your faith, 
 which seems so much better than ours. I 
 cannot leave Ardoine, for whom I now feel 
 the love of a sister." 
 
 " What arrangements have you made 
 about sister Marie ?" whispered Martha to 
 her husband. 
 
 '' We must fetch a litter from La Tour, 
 and transport her up the valley to Yillar." 
 
 " I fear," said Marguerite, '' she will 
 not stand the exposure, especially at this 
 time of the year." 
 
 "Alas!" replied Janavel, "there is no 
 help ; to leave her here longer than is 
 necessary is to expose her to danger. And
 
 234 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 we sliould not forgive ourselves if anything 
 happened to her. Eaynald," continued 
 he, " have you spoken about parting with 
 our farm? Does not the edict give us 
 the option of selhng it, or are we to be 
 beggared by that legal robbery called con- 
 fiscation ?" 
 
 " To be obliged to sell, father, within a 
 given time is like giving away a thing. 
 People won't buy when they know you 
 must sell, but will rather wait for the 
 chapter of accidents." 
 
 ''Oh, it is a grievous thing,'' inter- 
 rupted Lucille. "My home, my home, 
 alas ! how can I leave it ?" 
 
 " I suppose," said Janavel, " our lands 
 will be given to the Cathohcs who eject us. 
 I heard to-day that there are a number of 
 Irishmen in the country, and that the Duke 
 thinks of settling them here." 
 
 "If this be so," replied Daniel, "we 
 must do the best we can before it is too 
 late. Raynald, you were to speak to our
 
 THE EDICT DISCUSSED. 236 
 
 neiglibour Manclion, and see if you could 
 come to terms about the land. This land 
 adjoins his, and would be a valuable addi- 
 tion to his property." 
 
 "So I did; but he's like all the rest, 
 full of professions when there's no danger 
 of a test, but full of diflSculties when the 
 opportunity arises." 
 
 "That is odd," said Janavel, "for it 
 has been the staple of his conversation 
 since I was a boy. When he could for a 
 moment cease talking about himself, he 
 declared he envied this plot of ground, 
 which would just fill up the irregular shape 
 of his farm, and make it a ' unity,' as he 
 called it." 
 
 " He was willing to bargain, but his 
 terms were so low that they were an insult. 
 It is really iniquitous to eject us from our 
 lawful property, and then virtually to rob 
 us of it, so that we are sent forth like 
 beggars." 
 
 "Hush, my boy," said Jean, "let us
 
 236 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 not arraign God's providences. He sees 
 the end from the beginning, which we do 
 not. We must trust and look to Him, and 
 not to second causes. When we look at 
 them we feel a natural irritation. But 
 our minds only get composed by looking 
 above the instrument to the real Mover, 
 and feeling that He has his wise purposes." 
 
 "Eight, brother," said Janavel, "that 
 is what Paul would have done, and wkat 
 the Christians of old time did when tliere 
 was less wealth and more faith in the 
 Church. lolande, you shall go with us. I 
 trust you will learn more of our creed, that 
 you may be able to join our communion. 
 Our morality is not expediency, so you 
 may rest on our words as on a sister's 
 oath, and feel that your life and honour 
 shall be safe in our keeping." 
 
 "Ah, here comes Barba Leger," said 
 Yalere, hastening to meet the Moderator. 
 "We are so sad, Barba." 
 
 " I know you are, my boy. Good day,
 
 THE EDICT DISCUSSED. 237 
 
 Fatlier Rodolplie, I doubt not your heart 
 is fixed, trusting in tlie Lord." 
 
 "I hope it is," repHed the patriarch. 
 " Paul would count even this a light afflic- 
 tion, which is but for a moment in contrast 
 with the eternal weight of glory. You 
 have done well. Moderator, in coming; I 
 thought your kind heart would prompt you 
 to sympathize with us." 
 
 '' Weep with them that weep," replied 
 the pastor. " I shall soothe you more not 
 by attempting to staunch your tears, but 
 rather by mingling mine with them." 
 
 " How can we better consecrate our 
 last moments," said Rodolphe, " than by 
 the commemoration of our Saviour's dying 
 love ? Raynald, you have long been pre- 
 paring yourself for this holy feast ; let us 
 renew, then, for the last time, our family 
 sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving. Ar- 
 doine ? — where 's the child ?" 
 
 " She went to Aunt Marie a few mi- 
 nutes ago," said Raynald.
 
 238 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 " Then in half an hour you can join 
 them, and prepare them for our coming, if 
 Marie feels equal to the exertion. ' We will 
 take the cup of salvation, and call upon the 
 name of the Lord.' "
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 MOTTTER AND DAUGHTER. 
 
 "MornER, dear mother,'* said ^\jdoine, 
 bending over the invahd, and moistening 
 her lips w-ith fresh water, *'you look so 
 tired, I hope you do not feel worse ; there, 
 that will refresh you ; stay, let me add a 
 drop of lemon juice, and that will i^nve it 
 more flavour." 
 
 ** Thanks, (lau^rhtc^," said Marie, 
 with difficulty ; " you see how frail my 
 life is, I may leave you at any mo- 
 ment." 
 
 " Oh, don't say so, mother, the world 
 would Ixjcome a i)lank to me if you wcro 
 taken away ; cvcr}'thing would lose its in-
 
 240 THE SIX SISTEES OE THE VALLEYS. 
 
 terest ; I am very, very liappy witli my 
 aunts ; but you are a motlier, and a mother 
 is nature's friend, and is only given to us 
 once in our lives. You are all the world 
 to me, although you are a prisoner in your 
 sick bed.'' 
 
 " But suppose that I should be taken 
 from you, Ardoine; I should like to feel 
 that I left you in some one's safe keeping, 
 it would make me die happier." 
 
 " Oh, mother, what makes you talk hke 
 this ? It makes my heart heavy. I trust 
 God will spare you to us for some time 
 yet; but don't be unhappy about me, for 
 I am sure you might leave me safely in 
 Uncle Janavel's charge, you know how 
 kind and fatherly he is." 
 
 " I am sure he will be a father to you ; 
 but you are now grown up, and it is not 
 unlikely that the thought of marriage may 
 have crossed your mind." 
 
 ''Marriage !" artlessly replied Ardoine, 
 "I do not think it has ; I have been so
 
 MOTHEE AND DAFGHTEE. 241 
 
 happy with you, that I have not thought 
 on the subject." 
 
 "Is there no one amoug your friends," 
 whispered the invahd, '' for whom you feel 
 any attachment ?" 
 
 " jS^ot in the sense you mean. You 
 know you have taught me to look upon 
 marriage in a serious light, and as I have 
 not associated with the Catholic girls on 
 the neighbouring farm I have heard httle 
 on this subject." 
 
 '' Then tell me, my daughter, how should 
 you like Raynald ? you know he is a great 
 favourite of mine ; he would be kind to 
 you, and you have known each other's cha- 
 racters from youth." 
 
 ''Oh, mother, poor dear Raynald, I 
 do love him; but he's like my brother, and 
 I never thought about marrying him." 
 She paused as the conversation of the 
 day before floated across her mind in a new 
 light. 
 
 " But you can think of it now that I 
 VOL. I. li
 
 242 THE SIX SISTEHS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 liave suggested tlie tliouglit — consider lie 
 is a good young man, and lias tlie fear of 
 God in liis heart, and I tliink loves you. 
 You must liave guessed that before now. 
 "Women they say are quick-witted enough 
 in some things." 
 
 " Then I am duller, I fear, than my sex 
 generally. I know Eaynald likes my com- 
 pany, and we have always been the best of 
 friends ; but, indeed, the idea of marriage 
 is new, for I have never thought of him in 
 that light." 
 
 " But you have a regard for him, and 
 that may deepen into a warmer attach- 
 ment." 
 
 " Oh, dear mother, don't press me. 
 You know how I love you, and how I 
 would do anything to make you happy. 
 You cannot force the heart, and I have 
 heard you say yourself, when talking of 
 early days, that we need a dash of romance 
 to help us through the routine of after life, 
 and especially when we become acquainted
 
 MOTHER AND DAUGHTEE. 243 
 
 with the foibles of each other's cha- 
 racter." 
 
 " Daughter, I may die at any moDient, 
 and to see you married to one who would 
 appreciate your worth, would have been a 
 comfort to me in my last moments. You 
 have had a bright example of domestic 
 bliss in our present home. We were six 
 sisters, and we married six brothers, and I 
 may truly add, not from convenance but 
 from love ; do you not think so, judging by 
 results ?" 
 
 " Indeed I do, mother, our home has 
 been like a little paradise ; we have been 
 very happy." 
 
 ''Alas!" replied Marie, " Eaynald has 
 been in to me this morning with very sad 
 news, and this makes me more anxious to 
 speak to you on the subject of marriage. 
 The Duke has issued an edict commanding 
 us to become Eoman Catholics and go to 
 mass, or to leave our farm in three 
 days."
 
 244 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 ''But surely, motlier, lie does not 
 really mean to put it into execution." 
 
 '' I fear lie does. You know liow often 
 these tilings liave cliequered our history. 
 Oh, think of our beloved home being taken 
 from us, and our becoming outcasts in our 
 valleys." 
 
 " Dearest mother, what will become of 
 you ? I am young and strong, and can 
 work for our living, if some of our friends 
 in the higher valleys will receive us. But 
 how could you travel ?" 
 
 " Think not of me, dear child, I hover 
 on the brink of eternity. I am approach- 
 ing, step by step, the stream of death, that 
 river Jordan, but my Saviour whispers to 
 me, ' Let not your heart be troubled, for 
 I, who was lifted up on Calvary's cross, 
 will never forsake thee.' Oh, my daughter, 
 was there ever love like this ? How trans- 
 porting the thought of spending a glorious 
 eternity with such a God of purity and 
 love, to go no more out, but to worship in
 
 MOTHEE AND DAUGHTEK. 245 
 
 his liolj temple for ever. I shall soon 
 reach, my home, for I feel that I shall not 
 outlive these scenes, and it will be well 
 that I should not. My trust in the death 
 and merits of Christ is unclouded, and my 
 departure is a source of joy. I mourn 
 only for the troubles which must attend 
 those I leave behind, and I feel most 
 anxious that you should have a natural 
 protector." 
 
 '' Oh, mother, how I love my home, it 
 will be terrible to be turned out ; and what 
 shall I do if you also should be taken from 
 me?" 
 
 "You see, my daughter, there is an 
 urgent reason why I should plead for Ray- 
 nald. Is it not right that you should have 
 a protector in these troublous times ? And 
 can you find one so devoted, so good, so 
 brave? Let your mother's dying voice 
 plead for him, and tell you what his 
 modesty and fear will not allow him to say 
 himself."
 
 246 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VATiLEYS. 
 
 ''Mother, motlier," said Ardoine, sob- 
 bing,, "this is very painful. Love cannot 
 be forced, and you would not like to make 
 me pledge myself to what I might possibly 
 regret hereafter. Dear Raynald is indeed 
 good, and I love him as a brother ; but I 
 could not in a moment change my habit of 
 feeling towards him, and regard him in 
 the relationship you suggest." 
 
 '' True, my daughter, true. Will you 
 go so far as to promise me that you will 
 not marry without the approbation of 
 Pastor L^ger, our Moderator, and Uncle 
 Janavel. Promise me this before I 
 die." 
 
 " This I can readily do, because they 
 would not oppose anything that was for 
 my real welfare." 
 
 " Promise me, moreover, that you will 
 never wed a Eoman Catholic." 
 
 '' Mother, what makes you allude to 
 such things ? or why should you ask me 
 this question ? I trust you have never
 
 XOTHEK AND DAUGHTEE. 2i7 
 
 seen anything in me to make it necessary 
 to bind me ; but on tbis point, of conrse, 
 I can most readily assure you. So I trust 
 you will now feel liappy. I must pray to 
 Grod to direct me in tbis most important 
 step, and also to belp us all tbrougb tbe 
 trials wbicb appear to be coming upon us. 
 May God preserve you long to us, dear 
 motber," added Ai^doine, as sbe stooped 
 down and kissed ber deatb-like face. 
 
 " Fear not, my daughter ; how often 
 does the storm bm-st upon us with a bless- 
 ino' and Christ comes to us when we least 
 expect Him. When you find me dead, do 
 not look at my poor body, but think that 
 I am with my God, praising Him in all the 
 realization of that which I now believe." 
 
 A tap was heard at the door, and Ray- 
 nald entered. Treading hghtly lest he 
 should disturb his aunt, he approached 
 her bed. 
 
 '' The Moderator is here, dear aunt, and 
 grandfather is anxious for us all to join you
 
 248 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 in celebrating tlie Holy Supper, if yon feel 
 well enough." 
 
 " Oh, yes, always well enough to com- 
 memorate my Saviour's love, which passeth 
 knowledge."
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE riEST COMMUNION. 
 
 A SOLEMN stillness pervaded Marie's cliam- 
 ber, although a large group knelt around 
 lier bed, and many of tlie younger cliildren 
 were present. 
 
 The lioary-headed Rodolplie, sinking 
 from tlie decay of nature ; Marie, prostrate 
 with disease ; Raynald, the athletic moun- 
 taineer, full of buoyant health ; Ardoine, 
 the type of youth and beauty ; the sorrow- 
 ing Martha, clad in her habitual mourning ; 
 the little Lena, tottering to the foot of the 
 bed, and steadying herself by grasping the 
 coverlid, formed a suggestive group fiill of 
 typical contrasts.
 
 250 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 Since tlie announcement of Gastaldo's 
 edict, every member of tlie liouseliold liad 
 been more assiduous at tlie sick bed, and 
 liad looked upon Marie witli increased 
 tenderness, as if from an undefined mis- 
 giving tliat lier time was sliort, and from 
 apprehensions of the gloomy future. 
 
 Marie herself, who might naturally have 
 mourned most grievously under this cruel 
 blow, maintained her usual serenity. Her 
 soul seemed more than ever emancipated 
 from the body. The God of hope filled 
 her with joy and peace in believing, so that 
 she abounded in hope, through the power 
 of the Holy Ghost. Hope, glorious hope ! 
 that outleaps the present and lays the dim 
 future under preliminary tribute ; hope, less 
 abstract than faith, because instinct with 
 more personality, invigorated her soul while 
 striving to explore the undiscovered glories 
 of heaven, which dilated with greater vivid- 
 ness from contrast with the bitter present. 
 
 The hearts of that silent band were
 
 THE FIE ST COMMUNION. 251 
 
 burning witliin tliem, for tlieir present dis- 
 tress gave intensity to tlieir prayers, as 
 tliej secretly supplicated grace for one 
 another in tlie approaching hour of trial. 
 
 It was Raynald's first communion ; it 
 will be his last in the home of his fathers. 
 He had of late become more established in 
 his ancestral faith, though previously his 
 rehgious impressions had ebbed and flowed, 
 increasing in depth when he left the asso- 
 ciation of home, and waxing fainter by a 
 strange contradiction when he retm-ned. 
 
 He had for some time been anxious to 
 solemnize his good resolutions by joining 
 in this holy feast with his aunt, to whom 
 he felt deeply indebted for encouragement 
 and instruction ; while Marie, on her part, 
 looked on him with peculiar affection, fi:-om 
 the hope that she had advanced his spiritual 
 interests. 
 
 Raynald was earnest and sincere, though 
 occasionally betrayed by his impulsive tem- 
 per ; yet he was patient of rebuke, and
 
 252 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 ready to acknowledge an error when self- 
 convicted. He had mucli to learn of those 
 passive graces which are the glory of the 
 gospel ; bnt his heart was upright, he 
 endeavoured to act up to his knowledge of 
 truth, and was greatly influenced by the 
 consistency of Ardoine's example. His re- 
 ligious feeling was the only alleviation to 
 his mother's sorrow, and her heart would 
 rally when her son prayed with her, and 
 when she listened to his earnest tone, at 
 the bedside of his afflicted aunt. 
 
 After the accustomed prayers, the pastor 
 Leger approached Marie, and gave her the 
 broken bread. The cup trembled as he held 
 it to her lips, and the words of administra- 
 tion fell solemnly on the ears of all. Ardoine 
 communicated after her mother. Giving 
 the cup to Eaynald, who knelt by her side, 
 the Moderator placed his right hand on the 
 young man's head, and breathed a prayer 
 for his establishment in the faith. 
 
 " Father and pastor," whispered Marie,
 
 THE FIEST COMMUNION. 253 
 
 wlien the ceremony was concluded, " our 
 impending trial seems like a dream, but as 
 regards myself, tlie prospect of deatli is one 
 of joy and not of sorrow; for I am now 
 ready to be offered up, and tlie time of my 
 departure is at hand." 
 
 " I rejoice," said the Moderator, " that 
 you can still triumph over death." 
 
 '' I can embrace death as a messenger 
 of peace. ' The sting of death is sin ; but 
 thanks be to Grod, who giveth us the victory 
 through our Lord Jesus Christ.' " 
 
 "You can rest confidently," said Ro- 
 dolphe, ''on Christ's finished work on the 
 cross." 
 
 " I can, father. Christ did not do his 
 work by halves. He has flung the door of 
 heaven wide open for us by his death, and 
 sits there at all hours; for, thanks be to 
 God, there is no unseasonable faith." 
 
 "To what would you compare the love 
 of Christ?" asked Raynald. 
 
 " It is not to be compared to anything;
 
 254 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 it is boundless and unfatliomable. I would 
 not lose what I feel for ten thousand 
 worlds. My heart overflows with love. 
 Eternity is full of it ; heaven and earth are 
 full ; Christ is full ; it is an inexhaustible 
 fountain." 
 
 '' You do not rest on your own merits 
 or good works ?" said the pastor. 
 
 '' God forbid; I am a sinner, redeemed 
 solely by the blood of Jesus. Sin is the 
 abhorrence of my soul ; it is a burden too 
 heavy for me to bear, and yet daily do I 
 see more of my indwelling sin." 
 
 '' And yet you are not afraid to die," 
 said Martha. 
 
 '' No, indeed ! It is not dying ; my 
 soul shall soar on wings of love to my 
 Saviour. The body will moulder in the 
 earth, and ripen for glory. It is now like 
 a fetter and clog to my spirit, which longs 
 to be above." 
 
 '' What makes you feel so sure that you 
 are God's?" asked Raynald.
 
 THE FIEST COMMUNION. 255 
 
 " The witness of liis Spirit. I pray 
 tliat liis Holy Spirit may dwell in me, and 
 momentarily free me from all my sins, from 
 tliose tliat nature cannot discover." 
 
 "Can you feel lieaven within you ?'* 
 
 " I have a foretaste of joy that it is 
 impossible to describe. I often spend the 
 whole night in communion with my God, 
 and find it far too short. I pray that 
 Father, Son, and Holy Spirit may all come 
 down and dwell in me, and that they may 
 enlarge my heart to receive them." 
 
 ''Pastor," continued Marie, after a 
 pause, '' in this solemn hour, when exile 
 or death seems before us, let me, in the 
 presence of my loved ones, commit my 
 daughter to your care as well as to theirs. 
 She will recognize you as a father, for you 
 have sweetened her mother's years of pain, 
 and have been her own instructor from 
 childhood. Moderator, will you, with 
 Janavel, be guardian to my child, and ad- 
 vise her in the perplexities of life ?"
 
 256 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 " Daughter," replied Lcger, " slie is 
 already dear to me as one of my own flock, 
 but will become doubly dear wlien com- 
 mended to me by your dying breatli." 
 
 " Mother," said Ardoine, '' I accept him 
 as my father ; commit your orphan to God, 
 and fear not for me ; I am persuaded that 
 we shall meet around the throne of God in 
 heaven." 
 
 '' The peace of God," said Leger, rising 
 to depart, "keep your hearts, and after 
 that ye have suffered a while, bring each 
 one of you unto his eternal glory, through 
 Christ Jesus. Amen." 
 
 Shortly afterwards Raynald came forth 
 alone from his aunt's chamber. He did 
 not repeat the subject of their conversa- 
 tion even to his mother, but his downcast 
 look and tearful eye were proofs that the 
 strong man's heart had been bowed by 
 disappointment and grief. For some time 
 he trembled when he saw Ardoine, as if he 
 dreaded the exchange of glances. But his
 
 THE FIEST COMMUNION. 257 
 
 various duties to Ms family in ttis time of 
 trial afforded relief to his mind ; while 
 witli undiminislied affection lie still watched 
 Ardoine's every look and anticipated her 
 wishes, soothing himself with the hope that 
 his devotion might gradually change her 
 sisterly love into one of a more absorbing 
 character. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE LAST TIME. 
 
 The last time ! It is a sentence witli wliicli 
 all are familiar, but wliose sad patlios is 
 unacknowledged mitil drafted into real life. 
 It is an experience wliicli most of us have 
 felt; it is one wliicli all must some time 
 feel. 
 
 The last time ! It is a wail of sorrow, 
 of sorrow which melts indifferent souls to- 
 gether, having made them feel that they 
 cannot stand alone ; of sorrow bitter as the 
 dirge over the tomb of the loved and lost. 
 It is a plaint of memory as well as of the 
 heart. Memory, kindly faithless to the 
 bitter, and more kindly faithfol to the
 
 THE LAST TIME. 259 
 
 pleasant, recalls tlie past with a softened 
 yet melanelioly encliantment, and in its 
 lenient retrospects forms a more irksome 
 contrast witli tlie galling present. Tlie ills 
 over wliicb. we once wept seem trivial now 
 tliat tliey liave receded, and bygone plea- 
 sures seem doubly sweet in tlie mellowings 
 of tlie past. 
 
 Tlie last time ! A change is at hand. 
 The heart throbs from the consciousness of 
 an undefined void; for we cling to what 
 we know, we tremble before the untried. 
 
 Ye heartless, who boast of your insen- 
 sibility, know that Nature brands you as 
 traitors to herself. A heart is Nature's 
 priceless gift; emotion is mental, moral, 
 and spiritual hfe ; and when sin is removed 
 our souls will then feel intense and com- 
 plex pleasures for evermore, . and renew 
 their strength with the buoyancy of eternal 
 bliss. Feeling is the essence of all plea- 
 sures, happiness is their sum. That we 
 do not feel is our shame and curse.
 
 260 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 Tlie loving family, united in their 
 home to-day, from which to-morrow they 
 will be exiles; the sisters circling round 
 the youths, who are quitting their country 
 for a foreign clime ; the maiden, folded 
 in the arms of him whom duty sum- 
 mons to the stormy ocean ; the father 
 clasping his only son on the eve of 
 the battle ; the mother dropping tears 
 on her first-born babe, ere the coffin 
 shrouds her bright idol for ever ; the wife 
 embracing her husband in the cell of the 
 condemned; — these have their deep, yet 
 varied experiences of the same short, 
 simple, heart- stirring words — "the last 
 time!" 
 
 That patriarchal family weep upon their 
 own threshold; the fatal day approaches 
 when they must leave, and seek the moun- 
 tain glen, the lonely forest, or the dripping 
 cavern. Earth must be their home, nature 
 their friend, the heavens their covering. 
 Their place shall laiow them no more.
 
 THE LAST TIME. 2G1 
 
 Alas! in those words "no more" there 
 lurks a volume of mystic dread, and the 
 soul shudders under that emphasis of 
 grief. 
 
 Feelings like these were experienced at 
 this time, not by units, but by hundreds, as 
 they have been at other times by thousands, 
 through the cruelty of the apostate Church 
 of Rome. In this family we contemplate 
 one solitary type. 
 
 ***** ^ 
 
 The sensitive Madeleine felt as only a 
 wife and mother could feel, the bitterness 
 of the exile and the pang of the homeless ; 
 and she wandered over every nook and 
 corner of the house, weeping bitterly. She 
 had had her experiences of suffering ; she 
 had bent over her husband's corpse, and 
 had felt the crowding memories of grief and 
 the crowding griefs of memory. She had 
 looked upon that countenance which she 
 had loved, at the eyes which once met hers 
 with smiles, at the closed lips whose voice
 
 262 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 was music, and had felt tlie poignancy 
 of tliose words, "tlie last time!" Her 
 riven heart bled afresh at the prospect 
 of being torn from her home, that last link 
 with her beloved husband. Each spot 
 awakened plaintive memories ; each room 
 revived experiences of praise or prayer, 
 sorrow or joy ; each stone had been trodden 
 by the children's feet ; this or that place 
 recalled some special loved one, but the 
 home itself recalled them all. 
 
 ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ 
 A solemnity, as of an approacliing 
 death, reigned through the family circle of 
 La Baudene on the evening of the 27th of 
 January, and even the prattle of the little 
 ones was hushed. Some, blissfully uncon- 
 scious of the morrow, had sought their 
 mother's couch, as they had done all their 
 lives, and supposed they should do for the 
 future. They were wrapt in that sweet 
 sleep which is the birthright of childhood, 
 and the envy of old age ; but some of the
 
 THE LAST TDIE. 263 
 
 elder boys and girls remained up later tlian 
 usual, and their silence was in accord with, 
 their parents' sorrow. 
 
 " Children," said the aged Eodolphe, 
 speaking in a tremulous tone, " never did 
 I expect to bid you farewell upon our own 
 hearth. I thought that under this roof my 
 daughters would have surrounded my dying 
 bed, and closed my eyes. Children, sorrows 
 which the young deem trivial weigh heavily 
 on the aged. How much, then, must I feel 
 this crushino^ blow ? I have been here 
 fourscore years and more. This home is 
 dear to me, for you were born here, yom- 
 children have been born here, and you can 
 feel, as parents, the sacred interest with 
 which this invests the place. Daughters, 
 I am an old man ; my grey hairs are not 
 suited for the mountain blast, nor my 
 feeble steps to cross the gorge ; leave me 
 here to die, for if it be the Lord's will I 
 shall soon enter into my rest." 
 
 " Father," said Martha, '' my husband
 
 264 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 is your son ; we will clierisli you so long as 
 God spares us to one another." 
 
 " I know, my daugliters, your filial 
 afiection ; your love to eacli other hath 
 been singular, uniting you in one unbroken 
 household. Our memories may well be 
 sad when the past has been so bright, for 
 few have had our happy experiences of 
 domestic life." 
 
 '^ Few, indeed, father," said Janavel. 
 "Our home has been holy ground, but we 
 must hope to find another asylum in our 
 beloved valleys. Their very stones are 
 dear to us, and we would rather lodge in 
 our mountain caverns than in the palaces 
 of Eome." 
 
 " Come, dear grandfather," said Ar- 
 doine, '' you have eaten nothing to-night ; 
 let me prepare your evening meal as usual, 
 although, alas ! I could weep when I feel 
 your words, that it is for the last time." 
 
 *' My daughters, try and follow the dear 
 child's advice. Eat bread, for this is good
 
 THE LAST TIME. 265 
 
 for jou. Nature must be supported even 
 in Iter griefs." 
 
 " Oil, my father, it is lieart-rending to 
 think tliat we shall never again meet in 
 this way, never again see you in your 
 accustomed place. Oh, save us from the 
 morrow ! Your New Year's warning, that 
 we knew not what the year might bring 
 forth, is sadly realized." 
 
 "My children, look to the Lord, for 
 He only can support." 
 
 At this moment the broken cough of 
 Marie was heard, and it recalled their 
 attention to the absent sister. 
 
 "Ah! poor Marie," said Madeleine, 
 " how will she bear it ? Is it true that 
 this is her last night here, after her long 
 confinement of twenty-one years?" 
 
 " It is a sad thought," murmured Ro- 
 dolphe, " that the charity of the Eomish 
 Church will cast her out homeless and 
 houseless. Children, let us turn to God. 
 Ardoine, give me my Bible. Now, my
 
 266 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 cliild, open it for me at Hebrews xiii. 
 ^ Here we liave no continning city, but seek 
 one to come.' We now feel tins to be true, 
 because we enter into its sad experience. 
 And then look at tkat eleventli cliapter, 
 how full it is of bright examples of faith ! 
 Consider Abraham ; it was no slight test to 
 bid him sell all that he had, and go as a 
 stranger into a land of which he knew not. 
 Our test is the same." 
 
 " May the Lord grant us grace to stand 
 the refining process," said David, ^^ and to 
 endure the spoiling of our goods, rather 
 than do violence to our conscience." 
 
 " God grant it," replied Janavel. "To 
 quit our homes, and go forth destitute, 
 for conscience' sake, is a moral spectacle; 
 it is a triumph of faith, and can only be 
 done through the help of God's Holy 
 Spirit." 
 
 " My children, I trust that none of our 
 people will recant through fear of suffering, 
 and join the apostates. Let us endure as
 
 THE LAST TIME. 267 
 
 seeing Him who is inyisible, for at the last 
 we shall reap if we famt not." 
 
 '' You know, dear grandfather, that 
 beautiful verse you taught me, ' Be thou 
 faithful unto death, and I will give thee a 
 crown of life.' " 
 
 '^Yes, let us try to imitate our fore- 
 fathers, whose memories and faith we 
 cherish. These dear old valleys, that we 
 love so much, have seen them in their 
 hours of trial ; and w^e must not cause 
 those snows to blush, should they see us 
 flinching from the same path. All things 
 pass away; we shall soon be gone. But 
 our valleys will still remain to ^^I'^ach to 
 our sons. May they remind them of om- 
 patience and faith, as well as of our suffer- 
 ings ! May om* memories be graven on our 
 rocks, for the righteous shall be had in 
 everlasting remembrance !" 
 
 " Father," said Marguerite, " won't 
 you read and pray with us to-night as 
 usual ? We must not neo-lect to do what
 
 2G8 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 we liave ever done, especially wlien it is for 
 the last time.'* 
 
 '' Yes, my children, let ns sing our 
 evening hymn, according to our custom. 
 I know it may be almost a painful effort ; 
 but try, Eenee. Let us sing in the name 
 of Jesus, and seek his presence." 
 
 " I will do my best, but my sisters will 
 pardon me if I falter." 
 
 The band of exiles then stood up, and 
 chanted the ninetieth Psalm. 
 
 " Lord, Thou hast been our dwelling- 
 place in all generations. 
 
 '' Before the mountains were brought 
 forth, or ever Thou hadst formed the earth 
 and the world, even from everlasting to 
 everlasting. Thou art God. 
 
 '' For all our days are passed away in 
 Thy wrath : we spend our years as a tale 
 that is told. 
 
 '' So teach us to number our days, 
 that we may apply our hearts unto 
 wisdom.
 
 THE LAST TIME. 269 
 
 " Eeturn, Lord, how long ? and let it 
 repent Tliee concerning Thy servants. 
 
 " Oil satisfy us early with Thy mercy, 
 that we may rejoice and be glad all our 
 days. 
 
 " Make us glad according to the days 
 wherein Thou hast afflicted us, and the 
 years wherein we have seen evil." 
 
 The old man closed his Bible, and his 
 sons and daughters knelt round him, while 
 he implored Divine guidance and support. 
 
 " God of our fathers," said he; " God 
 of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, look upon 
 us in our distress, for Christ's sake. 
 Thou who didst suffer for our sins, and 
 dost know what human suffering is, for 
 Thou didst feel it to a degree we never can 
 conceive, look upon us, and be merciful; 
 be our God in our wanderings, as Thou 
 wast Jacob's; defend us, and after the 
 changes of this life bring us all to thine 
 everlasting kingdom, to be part of Christ's 
 elect, of whom the whole family in heaven
 
 270 THE SIX SISTEES OP THE VALLEYS. 
 
 and eartli is named. Tlien may our family 
 meet aromid tlie tkrone, not for tlie last 
 time, but for ever. We shall sing eternal 
 praises to our Redeemer, and remember 
 no more tlie trials of this life, for tliey will 
 not be wortliy to be compared witli tlie 
 glory which shall be revealed, Grod give 
 us his Holy Spirit, and grant our requests 
 for Jesus Christ's sake." 
 
 The twin sisters, after their father's bene- 
 diction, returned to Madeleine's chamber. 
 They stood for some time motionless, as 
 if gazing at some object which entranced 
 them both. They were looking into a 
 cradle where two infants, a boy and a girl, 
 slept, folded in each other's arms. One 
 was Marguerite's, the other Madeleine's. 
 The mothers looked in silence, for the joy 
 with which they had long beheld those 
 infants was now merged in sorrow. The 
 children, who were in the bloom of health, 
 slept soundly and peacefully. The glossy 
 curls of the little Ahne lay on the boy's face,
 
 THE LAST THIE. 271 
 
 and lier lialf- opened liand unconsciously 
 rested on liis neck. The motliers looked at 
 the pah% each, doubtless, thinkmg most of 
 her ovrn. They stood with their arms en- 
 twined, and Madeleine's head leaning on 
 Marguerite's shoulder. Just then Ahne was 
 seen to smile in her sleep, as if she had 
 heard an angel whisper ; and the mothers 
 themselves could hardly refrain from a 
 tearfol smile when they saw this little one 
 so unconscious of the morrow, slumbering 
 in the sweet recklessness of innocence and 
 in the repose of childhood's faith. 
 
 " May the Lord watch over om- babes, 
 if their poor mothers cannot!" said Mar- 
 guerite. '' We know not what may happen, 
 as father said at the beginning of the year. 
 We could not tell what it had in store for 
 uSj and January has set gloomily enough 
 upon us ; has it not ?" 
 
 "Alas! it has," replied Madeleine, 
 " and I feel a sad forecast of doubt and 
 fear, as if this were only the beginning of
 
 272 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 troubles. Oh ! Marguerite, a horrible dread 
 oppresses me," continued she, bursting into 
 tears, and throwing her arms around her 
 sister s neck. '' Leave me not, I implore 
 you. Oh ! sister, sister, I cannot leave 
 you, and the dear house, and the children." 
 
 " Hush, dearest ; look, your grief hath 
 half- awakened our little ones. Hush ! let 
 us pray for strength to bear what it has 
 pleased God to lay upon us. There now, 
 wipe your eyes, and promise you will try 
 to support me. Let us do what we can to 
 comfort our dear ones, and to cheer father, 
 for this is our duty under present circum- 
 stances. Come, Madeleine, take one more 
 look at our sleeping babes, and then we 
 must retire to rest." 
 
 '' Oh ! sister, is it for the last time in 
 this dear home of our fathers ? Sleep on, 
 sweet babes ! may you never know the 
 bitterness of heart which your mothers 
 feel!" As she said this she stooped over 
 the cradle to kiss them, while her tears fell
 
 THE LAST TIME. 273 
 
 on their little faces. The precious drops 
 (sad memorials of a mother's heart and of 
 individual grief) trickling slowly down- 
 wards, glistened for a short time upon the 
 infants' cheeks, and then dried up ; but 
 they had been seen in heaven. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 GASTALDO. 
 
 The twenty- eiglitli of January dawned 
 upon tlie Valley of Lucerna, and kindled 
 in many a heart far different emotions to 
 tliose wliicli New Year's day liad excited 
 but a few weeks before. 
 
 Nature usliered it in with miwonted 
 gloom — sullen and drenching clouds 
 brooded over the valleys, swathing even 
 the base of the Yandalin, while the heights 
 of La Yachere, Friouland, and Bagnol 
 were all hidden in an impenetrable sea of 
 mist. 
 
 '' Oh ! mother," exclaimed Etienne, as 
 he caught hold of her apron, " what are
 
 GASTALDO. • 275 
 
 my aimts doing ? Everytliing is upset, as 
 if we were moying to tlie liigli Alps. It's 
 not tlie time yet for going to the chalets 
 with our cows, that's in smnmer ; look at 
 the rain and fog, the snow has been falling 
 in the night, all the roofs are qnite white, 
 and it's my birthday, and I always spend 
 it at home." 
 
 " Little one," said Martha, as she 
 caressed the boy, ^^ cruel men have come 
 to turn us out of our home. I hope we 
 shall find another at Yillar, with pastor 
 Leger's friends. You went up there once, 
 you may remember, when you had such a 
 happy day, and were loth to come back." 
 
 ''Yes," said the child, "but that was 
 in the summer, it was then warm and 
 bright, now there is no sun, and the snow 
 is so cold, and it rains so fast. Is it the 
 Duke who is sending us away in this 
 weather ?" 
 
 " I don't think he would turn us out," 
 said Martha, ''for he knows that we are
 
 276 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 loyal servants, but lie is surrounded by 
 tbose wlio advise Mm to act* in this way, 
 and so we must obey." 
 
 " And are you going away to-day ? 
 Must I leave my playthings behind ? Shall 
 not I be able to run any more under the 
 old mulberry tree, nor to play with sissy 
 in the meadow?" And the little boy 
 sobbed aloud. 
 
 " Come, Etienne," said his mother, 
 kissing him, " come, I will tell you what 
 grandfather was talking about last night. 
 He said that ' here we have no continuing 
 city, but seek one to come.' Don't you 
 remember what Ardy told you when little 
 Malan died last year ?" 
 
 "Yes, Ardy told me death was a jour- 
 ney to another world, that she had gone 
 where God lives, that we were all travel- 
 ling the same way, and none can tell how 
 long we may remain on earth." 
 
 "Good child to remember so well. 
 It will not be so sad to move up the
 
 GASTALDO. 277 
 
 valley as to see a friend laid in the cold 
 ground." 
 
 " Oh, but, mother, I don't want to go, 
 I love this place — there is my little pink 
 bed, and my little garden, there is grand- 
 father's home, and I have always seen him 
 in his corner ever since I can remember." 
 
 '' Grandfather will come with us, and 
 perhaps you shall take hold of the 
 bridle of his mule, and you will like that, 
 won't you ? There, now, offer to help 
 him, and tell him you will take care of his 
 horse for him." 
 
 " Daughters, daughters," said Ro- 
 dolphe, to Lucille and Martha, who went 
 to assist him, "it is written, ' They con- 
 fessed that they were pilgrims and strangers 
 upon earth.' " 
 
 " What shall we collect of yours, 
 father?" said Lucille, "I have put your 
 Bible on one side for you." 
 
 ''Let nothing separate me from my 
 best friend. I shall find those words
 
 278 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 sweeter tlian ever, cast into bright relief 
 by tlie sombre background of sorrow — my 
 Bible, my staff, and one or two necessaries 
 are all that a poor old man requires." 
 
 "Here they are, grandfather," said 
 Ardoine, " and here's another small parcel 
 I've arranged for you, which I hope will 
 prove useful." 
 
 '^ Blessings on thee, thou child of my 
 old age ; may the Lord bless thee, and 
 guard thy young steps from all danger in 
 these troublous times ! We must look at 
 the bright side, children. Thank God we 
 have a place to which we can go. We 
 shall have a warm welcome from our friends 
 in Eora, Yillar, Angrogna, and Bobi — 
 their homes will be open to us. I trust 
 none of us will feel biting poverty, or the 
 want of food and the necessaries of life. 
 ' I have been young and now am old, and 
 yet saw I never the righteous forsaken, nor 
 his seed begging their bread.' " 
 
 " Ah ! father," replied Martha, " though
 
 GASTALDO. 279 
 
 you have seen more of sorrow tliaii we 
 have, yet you are the raost thankful, and 
 you support us instead of our supporting 
 you." 
 
 " Daughter, experience hath taught me 
 the wisdom of Paul's advice, ' In every- 
 thing give thanks, for this is the will 
 of God in Christ Jesus concerning 
 you.' " 
 
 " ' The spirit is willing,' " answered 
 Martha, " ' but the flesh is weak,' and our 
 hearts so cleave to the earth, that a sever- 
 ance is a great trial ; but He who shed 
 the tears of nature over the grave of 
 Lazarus will forgive us, will He not, 
 father?" 
 
 " Yes, dear children, He has sent this 
 dispensation for our good, and it were no 
 trial if we did not feel it. It would be a 
 reproach to us not to mourn at leaving this 
 bright home in which we have hved so many 
 years in such singular bliss." 
 
 Rodolphe was interrupted by the en-
 
 280 THE SIX SISTERS OE THE VALLEYS. 
 
 trance into the court of a man seated on a 
 palfrey. His dress was tliat of a person 
 of rank, in connection witli tlie Papal 
 Court, wliile his bland manner artfully 
 smoothed down the caustic expression 
 which twinkled in his calculating eye. 
 
 "Eemember what I told you," whis- 
 pered the Abbot of Pignerol, who, with 
 some other monks, accompanied him ; 
 '^ don't be too lenient : a bold stroke just 
 now would be true policy, and you know. 
 Delegate, it may help the Abbot to win 
 some of these heretics to the Apostolic 
 Church." 
 
 The person to whom these remarks 
 were addressed, dismounted from his horse 
 and approached Rodolphe, whom his 
 daughters were assisting at the other side 
 of the court. 
 
 "Friend," said he, "I am Gastaldo. 
 I have issued an edict in the Duke's name, 
 but his royal Highness feels for his faith- 
 ful subjects, and would, so far as his
 
 GASTALDO. 281 
 
 conscience will permit, relax tlie terms 
 thereof." 
 
 " We thank his Highness," said Ro- 
 dolphe. " It would be a boon if he wonld 
 permit ns to dwell on this land, which our 
 family has owned for a hundred and fifty 
 years." 
 
 " He knows and feels all that," replied 
 the Delegate, " but he is obliged to ap- 
 pease the Church by some concession." 
 
 "It is a cruel act," retorted Raynald, 
 sternly, ''to turn us out of our houses in 
 three days, to compel us to sell our lands 
 at whatever sacrifice, and this in the mid- 
 dle of winter, when the very voice of nature 
 intercedes for pity." 
 
 ''This is true," said Gastaldo, "but 
 have you not read the terms of the edict ? 
 Did you study it to the end ? You speak 
 as if it were peremptory. Is there no 
 condition attached ? You can avoid your 
 sad fate; the alternative is yours." 
 
 " That of apostasy," answered Janavel.
 
 282 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 " Kever ! The Duke shall command our 
 lives, but not our consciences. Fealty to 
 God precedes honour to the King." 
 
 '' The condition is easy," continued the 
 Delegate, "consent to go to mass, and you 
 shall retain your house and property ; your 
 family will remain united, and your taxes 
 and imposts shall be lightened." 
 
 " The old leaven lurks beneath," replied 
 Eodolphe. "Abjuration or persecution, 
 the mass or exile, are your alternatives. 
 Then, my children, I say exile. Exile, 
 God, if thy providence appoints the 
 trial ; but God forbid that we should barter 
 eternal truth for the dishonourable satisfy- 
 ing of the flesh." 
 
 "Yes, the mass or exile !" shouted the 
 monks in one fierce chorus. 
 
 " Death rather than the mass," meekly 
 replied the intrepid family circle. 
 
 " By Pope John XXIII., who agreed to 
 sell the head of the Baptist for fifty thou- 
 sand ducats!" exclaimed Malvicino, "the
 
 GASTALDO. 283 
 
 Duke is riglit to oust sucli heretics, and to 
 give tlieir lands as a spoil to tlie Churcli. 
 This Vv^ould make a nice addition to our 
 convent," Ayhispered he to a grim monk 
 near him. 
 
 " But," continued Gastaldo, " why 
 should you be so obstinate when your in- 
 terests are so plain? Look at the snow 
 and driving rain; how will you face the 
 winter's blast ? Consider the women and 
 children; why make them beggars and 
 outcasts when compliance is easy ? Only 
 go to mass ; after all it's shorter than your 
 sermons; we will not ask you to chant 
 the Amens, but only to show yourselves 
 there." 
 
 " We must obey God rather than man. 
 Liberty of conscience is our birthright, 
 and has been guaranteed to us by charters 
 innumerable. Even so late as May of last 
 year, the Duke confirmed our privileges, 
 and therefore our religion is tolerated by 
 the law of the land."
 
 284 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 '^ But our laws, thank Heaven !" said 
 tlie Papal Delegate, " are not those of the 
 Medes and Persians, wliicli alter not ; tliey 
 change to suit the times, and your wisdom 
 would be to change to suit them." 
 
 " Eight and wrong alter not," replied 
 Eodolphe ; '' our creed is right, and not 
 expediency ; principle before interest. We 
 are forbidden to do evil, that good may 
 come." 
 
 '* Then you refuse the offer of the 
 Duke's clemency?" 
 
 " If based on our apostasy, we do. 
 We would rather imitate our fathers, and 
 suffer for Christ's sake, than fall away from 
 the faith delivered to us." 
 
 "Come, my daughters," said Gastaldo, 
 addressing the women, '' I doubt not you 
 are more amenable to reason than these 
 stubborn men. You know the charm of 
 home ; it is your heaven. Wliat are women 
 when vagrant and homeless ?" 
 
 *' Death rather than the mass !" replied
 
 GASTALDO. 285 
 
 Martha and Marguerite. ''We concur 
 with our husbands, and we will beg our 
 bread from door to door rather than sell 
 our souls to Rome for the good things of 
 this world." 
 
 "Children," said the crafty Inquisitor, 
 " you do not want to leave this dear home. 
 Should you not like to stay here, my boy ?" 
 said he, addressing Etienne. 
 
 " Yes, mother knows I should. I don't 
 like going at all." 
 
 " You need not go, dear child, if you 
 will say ' Jesu, Maria.' They may all stay if 
 they will only come with us to our Church. 
 You will come with me, won't you ?" 
 
 "No, no," said the child, " I t\411 do 
 what mother does ; I will go with grand- 
 father ; I will do what the Bible tells me 
 to do, and I know they will try to do 
 that." 
 
 "Well, friends," said the Delegate, "I 
 deplore your miseries, and pity your ob- 
 stinacy. You will not let the Church treat
 
 286 THE SIX SISTERS OE THE VALLEYS. 
 
 you as a tender motlier, wliose lieart yearns 
 to welcome back the wandering. A plea- 
 sant journey then, heretics, to you, and 
 if you get frost-bitten, remember your 
 heresy will one day plunge you into hell 
 fire. The Devil take them and their ob- 
 stinacy," said he to his colleagues, as he 
 turned away. "It is surprising how Satan 
 has kept his nest here amid these rocks 
 and valleys so long, and how he has armed 
 this small knot of people against the 
 thunders of the secular power and the 
 terrors of the Holy Office of the Apostolic 
 Church. Surely this heresy must be what 
 the apostle calls ' mysterium impietatis.^ " 
 
 " Well but, Delegate, consider my plans. 
 Ha, here are some of my faithful soldiers. 
 By Pope John, I say, whom the Council of 
 Constance deposed, it would be a fine thing 
 to carry off that woman in black ; I doubt 
 not it would make the rest more willino^ to 
 treat with us ; and, Delegate, to be confi- 
 dential, there's a girl in that house whom
 
 GASTALDO. 287 
 
 I would fain win — slie'll give way when 
 her mother's caught. Say the word, for 
 the coast is clear, and I don't see that 
 cursed Titan in the way just now." 
 
 "Without waiting for Gastaldo's assent, 
 the Abbot whispered to his mercenaries. 
 Five of them well armed immediately 
 galloped into the courtyard, and seized 
 Martha without encountering any resist- 
 ance from the panic-stricken group. 
 She was placed on a saddle before one of 
 them, and the Yfhole cavalcade of soldiers 
 and ecclesiastics set themselves in motion 
 and marched off rapidly to the capital of 
 the valleys. 
 
 Before night Martha was a prisoner in 
 the dungeon of the convent of La Tour.
 
 CHAPTER XXIY. 
 
 THE EXODUS. 
 
 IN'atuee herself seemed leagued with the 
 Church of Rome, and armed against the 
 children of the valleys, for the winter of 
 1655 was unusually severe, and violent 
 storms added to the sufferings of the 
 exiles. 
 
 A heavy fall of snow had taken place 
 on the previous night; the rivers were 
 swollen, and the plains flooded by the 
 recent rains, with that suddenness which 
 is always a natural phenomenon in a moun- 
 tain country. The roads from St. Jean, 
 Lucerna, Bubiano, Fenil, Briqueras, and all 
 the other places outside the recognized
 
 THE EXODUS. 289 
 
 boundarieSj were covered as with funeral 
 processions. Amid tlie blast of the moun- 
 tain storms could be heard the bells of the 
 neighbouring Roman Catholic churches, 
 announcing the enforcement of Gastaldo's 
 edict, and tolling, in spite of themselves, 
 the death-knell of broken hearts and deso- 
 late homes. 
 
 Old men totter from the dwellings of 
 their childhood, leaning on their staffs ; the 
 sick and bed-ridden are for the first time 
 borne into the bleak mountain blast, and 
 are laid down from time to time where the 
 rocking pine sheds its snow-flakes on their 
 chilled limbs ; mothers with infants at 
 their breasts wade knee- deep in snow, 
 mud, and water ; women with child, or 
 lately confined, are taken from their beds 
 to ford the foaming torrent, or to scale the 
 crag ; the babe must be rocked to sleep in 
 its languishing mother's arms in the drip- 
 ping cavern ; little children, laden with heir- 
 looms, faint by the way, and perish in the 
 
 VOL. I. U
 
 290 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 snow from exhaustion ; tlie young men are 
 not able to carry away all tlieir property, 
 because they bear the sick and aged ; and 
 the widow leaves her blood-stained foot- 
 prints on the icy stones, still clinging to some 
 last relic of her husband's, from which she 
 will not be separated, even by death itself. 
 
 The band of exiles are moving from the 
 house of La Baudene. Eodolphe's totter- 
 ing steps are steadied in turn by his four 
 daughters, who place him on his mule, and 
 aid one another to keep him upright in his 
 saddle. Turning round his head to take a 
 last look at his old home, the aged patri- 
 arch sighed as he said to himself, " we have 
 in heaven a better and an enduring sub- 
 stance." 
 
 Bertin, Andre, and Laurent carried the 
 family Bible, one or two ornaments of old 
 silver, and the silver cup, the token of 
 their loyalty to their Sovereign, and of his 
 approval. 
 
 A band of little children foUow^ed, while
 
 THE EXODUS. 291 
 
 the fatliers wlio accompanied tlie melan- 
 clioly detaclimeiit came in the rear. They 
 moved in silence, for their hearts were fall 
 with heavy emotions beyond the compass 
 of speech, and the scalding tears which fell 
 to the nide ground were their mute appeal 
 to the God of the widow, the Grod to whom 
 vengeance belongeth. 
 
 The driving sleet almost blinded their 
 eyes, and the snow blocked up the road, 
 making their progress slow. Alas ! they 
 were not alone. Neighbours whom they 
 had known for years preceded and followed 
 them, and the road was strewn for miles 
 with articles of dress and furniture. 
 
 After some time the storm swept over, 
 and the sunshine broke through a rent in 
 the clouds, as if to mock their anguish, for 
 sorrow tinctures all external objects with 
 her own hue, and Nature herself is tuneless 
 to a heart writliing with grief. 
 
 The Moderator, Leger, observing, not 
 long after, the bloody traces of his former
 
 292 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 parisliioners, fell on Ms knees and thanked 
 God for their faitli and constancy. The 
 anticipation of the fruit of this cruel 
 edict, which afforded a gleam of pleasure 
 to the dying Marchioness, was not realized. 
 Out of hundreds of families not one re- 
 canted to retain their property and live 
 in peace. Out of more than two thousand 
 exiles none apostatized, though they were 
 deprived of earth's most precious gift — 
 home — home — faint image of Eden's past, 
 and bright earthly pledge of heaven to 
 come. Their obedience and loyalty to their 
 Sovereign were proved by their submission 
 to this merciless edict, thereby confuting 
 all the specious pretexts for treating them 
 as rebels. They took joyfully the spoiling 
 of their goods, remembering the promise 
 to those who forsake houses and lands for 
 Christ's sake, for many of that band could 
 truly say, " Lord, we have left all, and fol- 
 lowed thee." 
 
 ^ ?Jf. iU. ^. *^. iU. 
 
 7|^ Tjsr ^ 'fr 5K 7^r
 
 THE EXODUS. 293 
 
 " Motlier," said the little Aline, as she 
 lay in Madeleine's arms, '' I am cold ; it 
 rains so, why did we leave home to-day ? 
 you are quite wet." 
 
 Madeleine's heart heaved, she could 
 make no reply. Her eye only glanced on 
 the winding procession before her, and 
 she felt as if the wounds of her widow- 
 hood bled afresh with greater poignancy. 
 Covering up the child in her mantle, she 
 walked on with pain and difficulty, as her 
 feet were bruised against the stones, but 
 from time to time she was obliged to sit 
 down by the road-side, and to refresh her- 
 self with a handful of snow. Withdraw- 
 ing her hood as she was seated on a stone, 
 she looked with a mother's yearning at her 
 helpless charge. 
 
 " Oh, my child ! Sister Marguerite, 
 look at my child, she is so cold. Speak 
 darling," said she, clasping Aline to her 
 bosom, that some of her own vital warmth 
 might be imparted to the little one.
 
 294 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 Aline opened lier eyes slowly, and as 
 they met those of her mother a faint smile 
 overspread her pale features, a smile sadder 
 than that which touched the mother's 
 heart as her darhng lay before her in the 
 cradle. The mother rocked herself to and 
 fro as she clasped the child. 
 
 "Here is something," she exclaimed 
 after a pause. " Dear Ardoine has given 
 me a little bottle of wine ; that will revive 
 her. Look, darling, this is what cossy 
 Ardy has sent for you." So saying, Made- 
 leine raised the child's head with her left 
 arm, and poured a few drops of the cordial 
 into her mouth. A flush as of returning 
 life overspread her face, and she appeared 
 refreshed. 
 
 The mother covered her from the scat- 
 tered snow and rain which still fell, and 
 moved on slowly, leaning upon Margue- 
 rite's arm. 
 
 " Oh, Marguerite," said she after a 
 little time, " my child feels heavier. Oh,
 
 THE EXODUS. 295 
 
 I tonclied it — it is so cold ! Look, its 
 eyes are closed ; it is — it is dead !" So 
 saying, Madeleine fainted, and fell pros- 
 trate in tlie snow upon the body of Aline, 
 which she still encircled in her arms. 
 
 Eaynald and Janavel soon came np to 
 render what assistance they could, and 
 Marguerite was unweary in chafing her 
 sister s temples. The little corpse was 
 carried with them, for they were loth to 
 commit her to a grave by the roadside. 
 The chikl lay stiff and cold, her dark hair 
 encrusted with snow, her lips colourless 
 and half-opened, her eyes closed. 
 
 It is painful to a mother to weep over 
 a babe when taken from her amid every 
 alleviation, but much more painful was it 
 to suffer such a loss as a bitter first fruit 
 of exile, and as a pledge of a more 
 agonizing future. 
 
 viz Tfe Tp: ^ ygc 
 
 " Lord ! remember thy servants ; 
 enter their tears in thy book of remem-
 
 296 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 brance. Show to whom vengeance be- 
 longeth ! When thou makest inquisition for 
 blood, forget not thy martyrs ; remember 
 the silent griefs of broken hearts and deso- 
 lated homes, as well as the groans of those 
 who have perished at the stake, in the 
 dungeon, or on the remorseless rack." 
 
 " Lord, to whom vengeance be- 
 longeth ; God, to whom vengeance 
 belongeth, shew thyself! 
 
 " Lift up thyself, thou Judge of the 
 earth ; render a reward to the proud. 
 
 " Let the heavens rejoice, and let the 
 earth be glad; let the sea roar, and the 
 fulness thereof. 
 
 " Let the field be joyful, and all that is 
 therein; then shall all the trees of the 
 wood rejoice 
 
 " Before the Lord ; for He cometh, foe 
 He COMETH TO JUDGE THE EARTH : He shall 
 judge the world with righteousness, and 
 the people with his truth."
 
 CHAPTER XXY. 
 
 THE MISSIONARIES OF THE VATICAN. 
 
 The arcliiepiscopal town of Pignerol, en- 
 trenched among the offshoots of the Alps, 
 and situated on the frontier of the valleys, 
 is not without its memories in the blood- 
 stained persecutions of the Waldenses. Its 
 dungeons have echoed with the screams of 
 the victim and with the prayers of the 
 saint, and its principal square has often 
 been illumined by the lurid flame, the 
 fiery chariot of some martyred soul to the 
 presence of its God. 
 
 Its institutions were peculiar, and 
 worthy the genius of that religion which 
 tramples upon human nature, as well as on
 
 298 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 things divine, wlien antagonistic to her 
 despotic tyranny. A hospital existed for 
 the reception of Waldensian children, who, 
 having been decoyed from their parents, 
 were compulsorily reared in the Romish 
 faith. This expedient was the device of 
 Father Bonaventure and the Prior Eorengo, 
 who boasts of it in his historical memoirs. 
 In the Patents of Grace of 1655, the only 
 protection which the Waldenses could ob- 
 tain was, that boys should not be violently 
 taken from their parents under twelve, nor 
 girls under ten years of age. 
 
 Pignerol had also its Monte de Pieta, 
 an establishment for lending money on 
 pledges, which were cancelled only in times 
 of deep distress, on condition of the heretic 
 abjuring, and giving his soul in pawn to 
 Popery. 
 
 The abbey of the Franciscan monks 
 had long been distinguished for their 
 inveterate rancour against their heretical 
 neighbours, and they retained in their pay
 
 THE MISSIOXAEIES OF THE VATICAN. 299 
 
 a body of armed bandits, wlio were in tlie 
 liabit of making incursions into tlie valleys 
 to kidnap the cliildren, to plunder tlie 
 houses, to devastate the country, or to 
 massacre individuals. 
 
 About midday on the twenty- eighth of 
 January, a party of monks, accompanied 
 by some Piedmontese and Irish soldiers, 
 started from the abbey of Pignerol. An 
 expression of fierce joy was visible on the 
 countenances of the monks, as they con- 
 templated a lucrative campaign among 
 the heretics on this day of ejection. 
 Their uproarious mirth was, however, 
 suddenly arrested as they passed one of 
 those repulsive crosses which still disfigure 
 the roadsides of enthralled Italy. Oppo- 
 site to the cross was a smaU shrine, where 
 a lamp was burning before the picture of 
 the Virgin. Uncovering, the band of 
 felons crossed themselves, and, falling 
 on their knees, remained for some mo- 
 ments 'in silent adoration, while the monk
 
 30O THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 at tlieir head mumbled some scraps of 
 Latin. 
 
 '^ By St. Patlirick's thumbscrews, " said 
 one to liis companion, as they approached 
 the entrance of the valley of Lucerna, 
 " what's this Goshen we're promised here 
 to make up for Ould Ireland. Shure, then, 
 we must be ready to labour in the exter- 
 mination of heretics." 
 
 '' The land looks well, Misther Donog- 
 hue ; those high mountains are bigger than 
 our Magillicuddys Reeks ; but I fear we 
 shall not get as good a dhrap of ould 
 potheen here." 
 
 '' Well, Michael OTlanaghan, I would 
 swear by Moran's chain, I, a well-knit 
 Irishman, who trace my gintle blood right 
 up through my mother's breed to our first 
 parent, if I get a good berth here, I'll 
 brew as good a dhrap as ever you dhrank 
 with Misther O'Callaghan in your cabin on 
 the turf bog." 
 
 " By Saint Patrick's toothpick," said
 
 THE MISSIONAEIES OF THE VATICAN. 301 
 
 the second speaker, " here's a roomy 
 shebeen shop. Halloa, Fathers, F aires con- 
 scripti, as my young masther nsecl to say," 
 cried he, addressing the monks ; " faith, I 
 want to see if there's a jewel of a girl here 
 can darn my rags, for the snow sthrikes 
 could right through." 
 
 " Och ! Michael, you ould sinner, and 
 that's the game you're up to when your 
 ould hen's not looking. You niver dare 
 give the top o' the morning to ony if her 
 weasel eyes were on ye." 
 
 "Well, well, O'Donoghue, say nothing 
 about it, but tell me jist how you got 
 here into this counthry ?" 
 
 " Agragh ! you know what took place in 
 41 in Ould Ireland; jist fourteen birth- 
 days ago I'm reckoning. We Cathohcs 
 did our duty; we settled some forty or 
 fifty thousand of the Protestant dogs. 
 Arrah ! thin, lave me alone for scrim- 
 magin, — share my finger inds were rid 
 with English blood, and as liis riverince
 
 302 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 told US, we waslied our footsteps in the 
 blood of tlie ungodly. Glorv be to God ! 
 Well, we knocked up and down for 
 some time, like two weathercocks on 
 two Catholic and Protestant churches 
 on opposite sides of the sthreet, which can't 
 agree together to tell you how the wind 
 runs. We knocked about, says I, till this 
 Puritan — ould Noll they call him — stepped 
 over to the isle six years ago — in '49 that 
 would be, for I'm a bit of a scholar — ^and 
 by the jawbone of Patrick, the serpent- 
 killer, he thrashed us, and he then told 
 us we could turn out ; and I heard that 
 forty thousand of our boys have left the 
 ould counthry. There's a lot of us here, 
 and they say if we can root up these here- 
 tics, ould Savoy will give us their places." 
 " Father !" shouted the Irishman again 
 in a loud voice, '' avante sinistra, to the 
 right I mean, let's visit this house. Dust 
 my teeth, doesn't he ondersthand his own 
 jargon."
 
 THE MISSIONAEIES OF THE VATIC AX. 303 
 
 The monks, in compliance with the 
 man's hint, turned off the road, and took 
 the path leading into the farm of La 
 Baudene. The Abbot Malvicino was dis- 
 mounting in the courtyard, having returned 
 in hopes of finding Ardoine. 
 
 " Soldiers of the Cross 1" said he, 
 addressing his ragged followers as they 
 entered, " the Holy Church bids you wel- 
 come here; spoil the Egyptians, and see 
 if there's anything here you would like 
 to take home as a keepsake from the Pope 
 of Rome." 
 
 '' Shm^e and be gawnies I can find a 
 somethin — so here goes — God and the 
 blissed Mither, and the thrue Chmxh 
 for iver." 
 
 The soldiers dispersed over the farm, 
 and began the work of pillage. Most of 
 the family were away, having left early in 
 the day ; but Jean and a few children had 
 remained to minister to the wants of 
 Marie, for whose removal arrangements
 
 304 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 were being made. The soldiers speedily 
 bound Jean band and foot, while the 
 frightened children precipitately hid them- 
 selves as best they could in the out- 
 buildings. After eating and drinking what 
 they could find, the rabble began with zest 
 the work of demolition. The furniture of 
 the house was broken and thrown into the 
 courtyard, the windows were smashed, the 
 woodwork torn from the walls, relics of 
 affection, mute things which had consoled 
 the mourner's heart, were cast into the 
 mire, and trampled under foot. 
 
 The revelry and oaths of the soldiers 
 reached Marie, who trembled at the thought 
 of the indignities to which she might be 
 subjected by a brutal soldiery. 
 
 "Comrade!" said O'Donoghue, "we've 
 niver been up- stairs. Here is another 
 house, with rags over the windows; per- 
 haps the harbets have some gowld here. I 
 can do a powerful sthroke o' business for 
 my ain belongins."
 
 THE MISSIONAEIES OF THE VATICAX. 305 
 
 " Not much of tliat," said a Piedmon- 
 tese soldier, Cattalin byname; ''not much 
 gold or silver waiting for owners in this 
 den, I trow." 
 
 The idea of plunder acted on the con- 
 fused brain of three or four half- drunken 
 bystanders, who rushed into Marie's room 
 to search for the supposed spoil. On 
 entering the chamber they were involun- 
 tarily startled as they beheld that figure, 
 so white and motionless. O'Donoghue's 
 superstitions overcame him, and hastily 
 crossing himself, he fell on his knees, 
 muttering — 
 
 '' Ave Maria ! Eosary of the Yargin 1 
 Holy Bridget ! have marcy on me and 
 purtect us !" 
 
 "By the rags of Peter the Hermit, 
 those dogs have left behind them a corpse 
 for us to bury," said Yillalmin Roche, 
 advancing to the bed. 
 
 "Oh, Pathrick!" said O'Donoghue, 
 " oh, Pathrick ! who griped the last viper 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 306 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 on tlie banks of tlie Boyne, take care of 
 my sinful body." 
 
 " I^ay, nay, you need order no second- 
 liand coffins," cried Cattalin, " lie's not 
 dead, man ; look how lie winces under 
 tlie point of my sword." 
 
 '^ It's a woman, by tlie middle knuckle 
 of St. Francis!" cried O'Donogbue, liis 
 courage returning. "It's not you, young 
 gallant, will liurt tlie lady. Convert lier 
 now, and lead ker into keaven to tlie 
 Blessed Virgin." 
 
 " I say, old lamb of Beerslieba," said 
 Cattalin, bending over her, " tke Pope of 
 Eonie liatli sent us to save your soul. Be 
 quick, and say your prayers ; say ^ Jesu 
 Maria;' and lift up your liand here, 
 old aunt," continued lie, moving tke suf- 
 ferer's arm, " and cross yourself this 
 fashion — here right, left — left, right." 
 
 '' Come, be quick," said Yillalmin 
 Eoclie, " or we'll throw you into the court- 
 yard for an airing, and then pour you out
 
 THE MISSIONARIES OE THE VATICAN. 307 
 
 some liot toast and water. If not, old 
 Fatlier Malvicino will speak to liis private 
 confessor with horns, and lie'll give you 
 some hot toast without water.'' 
 
 This sally was received with a burst of 
 brutal laughter, and the floor of the room 
 trembled under the stamping of the sol- 
 diers' feet. 
 
 '' I say," pursued Cattalin, '' change 
 caps with me ; do lend me that nightcap 
 for our drummer-boy. I should just like 
 to see her in my helmet, that I may see 
 how I look myself." 
 
 " Cosioetto ! leave the old dame alone," 
 said Yillalmin, " I want to do the spiritual 
 thing. You've not long for this world, 
 mother, St. Francis is beckoning you into 
 Paradise. Will you go ?" 
 
 '' Yes," cried out the man. '' St. 
 Francis, we'll save a soul in your name 
 — wait a moment, she'll come before 
 long. Call out ' Jesu Maria,' and then 
 cross yourself, for Peter can't be kept
 
 308 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 standing outside in the cold waiting for 
 
 you." 
 
 "Lord Jesus!" gasped tlie sufferer, 
 " receive my spirit. Is the chariot of fire 
 waiting for my soul ? but a breath, and I 
 shall be with Thee face to face in heaven. 
 Lord Jesus ! come quickly." 
 
 "Halt! no harangues, old woman; 
 pray to the Virgin. Now, boys, we must 
 have a toast : — ' Viva la Santa Cliiesa Bo- 
 mana /' " 
 
 The chorus of voices brake forth into 
 one unearthly roar at the given signal. 
 
 '' E viva la sante fede T continued the 
 speaker, and again the Pope's disciples 
 strained their lungs in sending their voices 
 to heaven. 
 
 " E guai acjli Barhetti,'' once more 
 pealed harshly on the sufferer's ear. 
 
 "ISTow, mother," continued Yillalmin, 
 " if you won't pray we'll make you." 
 
 "You can do what you will with my 
 body, it's a poor crumbling tabernacle,
 
 THE MISSIONAEIES OF THE VATICAN. 309 
 
 long fitted for the tomb ; but my soul is 
 safe in the hands of my Saviour, whose 
 blood has washed me from all sin, and on 
 whose death and merits I can calmly rely 
 now and in the hour of death." 
 
 " Come, come, old fellow," said Lemna, 
 "it's a shame for a man to vex a woman, 
 and you're too ugly to convert her; the 
 look of such as you would make her take 
 an oath not to be on the same side with 
 you ; the sight of you would save me ten 
 scudi a year in making vinegar.'* 
 
 " Mind your own business, you Bologna 
 butcher, don't you see I mean the woman 
 good ? I want to get her soul into heaven, 
 and you, you haven't grace enough to wish 
 her there, as you know you'll never have a 
 pass to get there yourself." 
 
 '' Come, mother, say ' Jesu Maria,' and 
 cross," cried O'Donoghue; "I'm hoarse 
 with hallooing — quick, or I'll give you a 
 dig with my sword to brighten your wits. 
 I'm listening," and the man bent his head
 
 310 THE SIX SISTEES OE THE VALLEYS. 
 
 to catcli lier words, presenting a strange 
 contrast with liis linge sliock of red liair 
 and ragged garments to tlie deatli-like form 
 that lay on the bed. 
 
 His patience was on the wane ; his 
 eyes sparkled with rehgious frenzy, and he 
 was about to proceed to some act of vio-' 
 lence. He seized the sufferer ; but the icy 
 touch, and the exceeding lightness of the 
 body appalled him, and he released her 
 from his grasp. 
 
 " How, now, sons," said the Abbot 
 Malvicino, entering the room, "what's this 
 plunder you've got ? — is it a living soul ? — 
 then that's for me. Away ye lads, look after 
 your stomachs. Leave her to me, and by 
 Pope Benedict IX., who sold St. Peter's 
 chair, I'll soon make a disciple of her, and 
 add another member to the tloly Catholic 
 and Apostolic Church." 
 
 That rough Franciscan when left alone 
 felt for a moment the associations of 
 suffering — in the presence of that female
 
 THE MISSIONAIIIES OF THE VATIC AiN'. 311 
 
 ■whose look was so uneartlily, and wliose 
 unnatural paleness was deepened by her 
 fears. 
 
 " Holy Pope G-regory," said Malyicino, 
 crossing himself, " she looks like a corpse 
 stolen from some camijo santo, a sister it 
 may be of the cadaverous Rorengo. But 
 methinks it will not be difficult to make a 
 convert of this weak vessel, and women's 
 souls make up one's score as well as men's, 
 and it will blot out some of my sins. 
 Mother," said he, advancing towards her, 
 '' I hope I recognize in you a sister in the 
 faith, one who is in the fold of the Church, 
 out of which there is no salvation. '^ 
 
 ''I trust," replied the sufferer, "that I 
 a^m in the Church of which Christ is the 
 chief corner stone." 
 
 " But I mean, do you belong to his 
 visible Church, the Holy Roman, which 
 God established by St. Peter, and governs 
 by his Yicar the Pope." 
 
 " No ; I do not belong to the Romish
 
 312 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 Churcli, but to tliat apostolic branch wliicli 
 has always existed in these valleys." 
 
 ''Will you imperil your soul? Unless 
 you are a believer in the mass, your salva- 
 tion is impossible." 
 
 '' I rely upon the "Word of God ; I read 
 nothing there about the mass, so I can do 
 without it. Jesus Christ is my rock, and 
 on his death and merits I securely rest. I 
 have lain here for twenty-one years, and I 
 can trust my Saviour to the last." 
 
 '' Oh," said the monk aside, '' we have a 
 controversialist here. These harhets seem to 
 instruct their people with their lying sophis- 
 tries, so that they are able to perplex even 
 the advocates of truth." 
 
 "Woman," said he, raising his voice, 
 " I have come to save you. If you will not 
 let me do it by persuasion, I shall excom- 
 municate you, and hand you over to the 
 soldiers of the cross." 
 
 '' ' Lord, have mercy on my soul ! 
 Christ, forsake me not ! To Thee will
 
 THE MISSIOXAEIES OF THE VATICAN. 313 
 
 I look, tliou God of my salvation ! In tlie 
 hour of death hold my right hand, saying 
 unto me, Fear not, I am with thee.' " 
 
 *' Woman, will you repent ? Will you 
 abjure your heresy ? Say ' Ave Maria,' 
 and then I will befriend you and your 
 relations." 
 
 ''You speak to one who is at the point 
 of death, and almost sees the better city ; 
 worldly motives are worthless when we 
 approach the grave." 
 
 "What," said the monk, " are you ob- 
 stinate ? Here, Father Placido Corso, 
 lend us your spiritual aid, help me to drag 
 this daughter into the kingdom." 
 
 '' G-ently, Abbot," said the priest ; 
 *' the poor thing is weak and ill, treat her 
 gently. It is no credit to our faith to use 
 violence with such feeble vessels." 
 
 " There's no other way with them but 
 decision. If you can't bend, you must 
 break ; at least that is the teaching of the 
 Holv Office."
 
 314 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 "To convince lier argne with lier, and 
 tell her what the Holy Fathers have said." 
 
 " She doesn't care for the Fathers, nor 
 the Councils. These heretics pnt their faith 
 only in what the Bible teaches." 
 
 " Then argne with her out of the Bible, 
 you know enough of it, don't you, to vin- 
 dicate our doctrines ?" 
 
 '' I don't think I do; I only know some of 
 those parts I chant by heart, and if it conies 
 to bandying texts of Scripture, by Pope 
 Celestin III., who kicked the Emperor 
 Henry YI.'s crown off his head, I shall 
 come off the worst. But go and look 
 after your belongings, and leave me with 
 my erring daughter." 
 
 Malvicino went up to Marie, and hold- 
 ing the crucifix against her lips, said — 
 
 *' So you refuse to belong to the Holy 
 Eoman Church, and talk about your cursed 
 heresy, which has clung to these infernal 
 valleys so long. Then the devil take your 
 soul and body."
 
 THE lIISSIOX.iEIES OF THE YATICAX. 315 
 
 Bending over the bed he spit in that 
 wan face, and raised his hand as if to inflict 
 a blow. A fierce glare passed over his 
 features, which suddenly relaxed into a 
 smile, as if some happy thought had sug- 
 gested itself. 
 
 " Good,*^' said he, aloud, '' that will be 
 a work of supererogation, and the blessed 
 Bridget will intercede for me after this. 
 I will — I will save her — I will baptize her 
 into the true Church." 
 
 "With these words he began to search 
 about the room, and at last found some 
 water, which he poured into a cup. Kneel- 
 ing by the bedside, and making the sign of 
 the cross, he chanted in a monotonous tone, 
 '' Baxjtizo te in nomine Domini, et Filii, et 
 Spiritiis Sancti. Amen." Then making the 
 sign of the cross on her forehead, he emptied 
 the contents of the cup upon Marie's head. 
 
 " I have saved her — I have saved her," 
 muttered he to himself as he quitted the 
 apartment.
 
 CHAPTER XXYI. 
 
 THE lEISH SOLDIEE. 
 
 DuEiNG tlie monk's interview with Marie 
 the lawless rabble held undisputed posses- 
 sion of the building, without any check 
 upon their wanton brutality. 
 
 Among the soldiers Michael 0' Flana- 
 gan was conspicuous for his violence, his 
 Celtic passions having been thoroughly 
 aroused by the work of destruction and 
 plunder. 
 
 '^ Och, was there iver sich a place ?" 
 he shouted : '' 'tis a sore day with me since 
 I brathed this air, but I'll smash some- 
 body's head, as we do at Donnybrook. 
 There's no shillelahs here. Wisha, an' ye
 
 THE IRISH SOLDIER. 317 
 
 may travel many a long mile afore ye gets 
 tlie likes o' me. Be geminy ! give me tliat 
 picthure of tliat milky-haired man — I'll put 
 his eye out." 
 
 With these words he dashed an earthen- 
 ware jug against the wall, which was 
 shivered to pieces. He then leaped upon 
 the table, and with his sword drawn 
 harangued the bystanders. 
 
 '^ Brother," said Placido Corso to Mal- 
 vicino, '^ this mad Irishman may strike our 
 noses with the end of that sword he's 
 whirling about. You seem as if you were 
 looking for some one." 
 
 " By Pope Leo X. and his holy indul- 
 gences, I'm looking for a girl I saw here 
 the other day. Ah ! now I think of it," 
 continued the Abbot to himself, '' I must 
 be careful. E chard has the enforcement of 
 the edict, and he might come in here and 
 spoil my plans. I must keep him out of 
 the way. In this case I had better return 
 to La Tom' or Pignerol. I have told my
 
 318 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 people to keep tlieir eyes about tliem and 
 capture her/' 
 
 "Ah!" said O'Flanagan, addressing 
 Malvicino, " Ocli, lioly Abbot, you look 
 frightened. Be aisy ; though my bones 
 ache from the beggarly mat you gave me 
 to lie on last night. Well, well, forgive 
 and forget. Here's hurrah for the Pope of 
 Eome — does he say his prayers in bed ? I 
 know he'd like to sip a glass of Irish 
 whisky. Shure how could he keep his 
 throat up to the work of blessin' if he 
 did not wet it? He's right, the Yicar; 
 here, boys, you're for the Pope. Is there 
 none of the rale stuff here, to give his 
 Holiness a dhrap ? Hurrah for ould Ire- 
 land. I say, mavourneen, what's in there ? 
 I want to look in this cellar — is there 
 any bin of St. Patrick's brew here ? if so 
 you shall let me go halves." 
 
 O'Flanagan then rushed into the court- 
 yard, tumbling over the ruins that lay in 
 every direction. He vowed vengeance
 
 THE IRISH SOLDIEE. 319 
 
 against all Turks and Infidels, and swore 
 tliat he would run through the heretic who 
 would not cross himself. 
 
 " Cross yourself, man," said he, ad- 
 dressing Jean, who was a prisoner, " are 
 you cowld ? Ah ! well, ye see these monks 
 are lighting you a blaze with yer own sticks. 
 Faiths, get out of the way, and you'll see 
 we Irish of the ould blood are as thrue to 
 the Mither of God on this side the Channel 
 as on the other." 
 
 Reeling about 0' Flanagan reached the 
 staircase which led to Marie's room. 
 
 "We'll go up," said he, "into this den. 
 If I don't find any dhrink here, I'll git up 
 a blaze on my own account." 
 
 With his rough fist he shattered the 
 panel of Marie's door. The ruffian stood 
 upon the threshold of the sick room, where 
 all, before this day, had entered with bated 
 breath and heartfelt sympathy, and he pealed 
 forth a stanza of his Bacchanalian song, in 
 a spot where nought but hallowed prayer
 
 320 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 and praise had been heard for years. Push- 
 ing the door aside he entered the room, and 
 his eye rested upon that apparent image of 
 death. He was riveted when he saw that 
 blanched and death-Hke face, shaded by her 
 dark hair, and whose dimmed eyes plain- 
 tively appealed to the sympathy of those 
 who enjoyed the blessing of unclouded 
 sight. 
 
 The Irish fanatic stood speechless ; for 
 a moment there was a death-like silence in 
 that sick room, broken at intervals by 
 the shouts and tumult of the soldiers in 
 the court. 
 
 A change of expression softened O'Fla- 
 nagan's features, and reproduced for a mo- 
 ment that look of innocence which was once 
 the ornament of his boyish days. The wild, 
 maddened glare of that eye had relapsed 
 into one of melancholy thoughtfalness, as 
 if memories bound deep within his heart 
 were touched, and his soul was brooding 
 over an awakened past. For some time he
 
 THE IRISH SOLDIER. 321 
 
 stood ill silence, witliout moving, and gazed 
 on Marie until tears stole down liis weather- 
 beaten cheeks. 
 
 It was a triumpb. due to the calm 
 majesty of suffering, a proof of that axiom 
 that under the bandit's rough exterior 
 there yet beats a human heart — that heart 
 through which we taste more than a soli- 
 tary existence. 
 
 ''Thank Heaven!" said he, ''that I 
 have not spoiled her, and that I've not let 
 those other ruffians hurt her. Shure I 
 would not touch one hair of her head. 
 Ah ! she's like her mavourneen. Is it 
 herself that I see, or am I still draming ? 
 No, I see the white body, the hair, the 
 thin hand — it's my mither ! Oh, mither ! 
 I thouo'ht I had left ve in that cabin that 
 looks o'er the pool in county Fermanagh. 
 Look ! it must be herself; the pale cheek, 
 the closed eye, the silence brings her 
 before me. Ah !" said the young man, 
 burying his head in his hands and bursting 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 322 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 into tears, '' how liappy I was thin ! My 
 dear mither, you're a long way off from 
 me now ; och ! I know not if you're alive, 
 and before I went soldierin', and saw the 
 rough side of life, I was your favourite 
 boy. Shure at my very worst time I 
 trembled before your tears, and when I 
 was lavin' you made me kneel down by 
 your bedside, looking jist the same as yon 
 sick crathur ; and thin, as you were blind, 
 you axed where your boy was, and you 
 put your thin hand on his head, and felt 
 my face, — you did, you did. Oh, if you 
 are dead, you will have remimbered me 
 with your dying breath. Mither, I did not 
 think to see you again so far off." 
 
 ''Lord Jesus!" said a plaintive voice, 
 " sit by my furnace. Thou art my anchor, 
 which entereth within the vail. Leave me 
 not, or if the hour has come, speak the 
 word, for my soul waiteth." 
 
 ''Harm you! is that what you're saying 
 in your foreign tongue ? I won't, though
 
 THE IRISH SOLDIEE. 323 
 
 the Pope liimself were urging me on. I'll 
 purtect you for the sake of my dear ould 
 mitlier, whose last words were, ' Ayick, 
 trat iverybody as you'd have them trat 
 
 you.' " 
 
 The guileless memories of an early home, 
 which often draw a tear even from the 
 criminal on his last night in the condemned 
 cell, appeared to have changed the nature 
 of 0' Flanagan, for his heart, that centre of 
 mystery, had been touched. He moved 
 gently about the room, and proceeded to 
 arrange the dismantled chamber, turning 
 his head from time to time to glance at the 
 bed. With the delicacy of a woman's touch 
 he moistened her lips, and in tones of kind- 
 ness soothed her fears, though his Celtic 
 exhortations, with its sparse Italian sprink- 
 ling, were lost upon the sufferer. 
 
 *' Wisha, thin, 'tis meself that will help 
 you for my mither's sake," he soliloquized; 
 " shure your own folks wiU come back to 
 fetch you out of harm's way; asthore !
 
 324 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 they'll never lave you alone long. All! 
 wliat a scrimmage those other plunderin' 
 rascals have made here !" 
 
 Standing at the door, he drove back 
 the rioters, who attempted to mount the 
 stairs, and kept guard until the bugle 
 sounded, when the soldiers and the monks 
 proceeded to the convent of La Tour, 
 taking mth them Jean as their prisoner, 
 and the children who had not escaped 
 at their first approach. 
 
 '^ Farewell, mavourneen, and may the 
 Holy Yargin kape you and have mercy on 
 ye for my ould sick mither's sake !" 
 
 So saying, he joined his companions, 
 whose oaths and ribaldry fell more harshly 
 on his ear than before, from the purer 
 association which had been revived within 
 his breast. 
 
 '' Flanagan," said Malvicino, addressing 
 the Irishman, " I've a small commission 
 for you. Gallop to Pignerol, and you will 
 meet an officer of the Duke's, E chard by
 
 THE lEISH SOLDIER. 325 
 
 name, "wlio lias authority to enforce the 
 edict ; he ^11 be accompanied by some 
 soldiers. I don't want him to come to 
 this farm, for reasons connected with the 
 interests of the Holy Chm-ch. Either send 
 him at once to La Toiu% because Gastaldo 
 wants him, or else back to Pignerol to the 
 abbey to meet me. Do you understand? 
 ride with him, but keep him from going 
 into the farm on any account." 
 
 With these instructions, O'Flanagan left 
 his companions, and rode back alone in the 
 direction of Pignerol.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 DAGOT. 
 
 The tramp of the liorses, and the roar of 
 human voices gradually died away, and 
 silence reigned throughout the farm of La 
 Baudene, broken only by the murmuring 
 of the Pelice in the distance. It was an 
 ominous silence, akin to that of the grave, 
 a strange contrast to the previous riot, 
 and to the former buoyant joy of that social 
 hearth, upon which Gastaldo's signature 
 had begun to wreak its baneful desolation. 
 Malvicino, who was obliged to return 
 to Gastaldo at La Tour, had summoned his 
 soldiers to accompany him, hoping to be 
 able to return to La Baudene later in the
 
 DAGOT. 327 
 
 day. In his reverie how to carry ont Ms 
 purpose in case 'Flanagan should disap- 
 point him, he met Dagot and some other 
 soldiers going in the direction of the 
 farm. 
 
 ''Friend Dagot," whispered the Abbot, 
 addressing the soldier apart, " I've a httle 
 affair which I will entrust you vrith, 
 whereby you can win your Holy Father's 
 blessing. Go to La Baudene, and if you 
 can find a good-looking girl, with golden 
 
 . Ha, you were once quartered there, 
 
 and therefore you know her well. Seciu-e 
 the girl for a friend of mine, and I'll 
 shorten your time in purgatory. Above 
 all, take care of that young officer E chard, 
 and keep her out of his way, should he 
 chance to come to the farm in the fulfil- 
 ment of his duties — do you understand? 
 then there's a ducat to toast the Pope." 
 
 '' Thanks, holy Abbot," said the man 
 with a grin, "I'U cater for the flesh, and 
 you for the spirit. What a fool he must
 
 328 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 think me !" continued lie to himself, as he 
 rode away, '' if he thinks I don't see through 
 him, and am going to do his work. 'No, 
 Dagot must look after his own interests if 
 fortune gives him the chance. Ah ! I see 
 the old place again; I'll run that fellow 
 Eaynald through if I can." 
 
 " Comrade," said Dagot, addressing 
 Berru, '' I see the farm before us where we 
 were quartered, Now's the time to see if 
 we can pick up any spoil there, for I believe 
 the edict of Gastaldo turns them out." 
 
 ''Ha, ha!" replied Berru, ''you still 
 keep up old memories. I'm afraid that 
 girl is entering into your calculations, but 
 take my advice and don't burn your 
 fingers." 
 
 "Halloa!" said Dagot, as he saw Ar- 
 doine entering the court-yard, " there's my 
 old flame ; I hope I shall have better luck 
 this time, if I pop the question. Pity 
 we've left our priest behind, or he could 
 have earned his fees before vespers."
 
 DAGOT. 329 
 
 Ardoine, wlio liad left lier motlier for 
 a short time, to assist in finding a litter 
 for lier removal, had returned with the 
 promptitude of affection as soon as possi- 
 ble, and had preceded the soldiers whom 
 she had not noticed in the distance. 
 Her heart trembled as she entered the 
 court-yard, and saw the signs of havoc and 
 destruction on all sides. It was evident 
 that a party of soldiers had been there in 
 the absence of the family, though from the 
 melancholy silence which reigned through- 
 out the place, they and everybody else 
 seemed to have departed. 
 
 With impatient eagerness she flew to 
 her mother's room, and was relieved to find 
 her in her accustomed place. Wiping her 
 forehead she gently pressed her hands, and 
 kissed her parched lips. 
 
 "Mother, mother, my heart upbraids 
 me for having left you at all; but uncle 
 thought I could best arrange about the 
 litter. I hope you are safe and well, and
 
 330 THE SIX SISTERS OE THE VALLEYS. 
 
 Iiave not found my absence long. I liave 
 come back as soon as I could." 
 
 " I am so glad to see you, beloved cMd. 
 God deals gently witli me ; my lieart over- 
 flows witli love to Him, and is kept in 
 perfect peace. I cleave • to Jesus without 
 a murmur or a doubt. You don't know 
 with what delight I look for his coming, 
 for the sting of death has been taken away 
 by his precious cross." 
 
 "You look pale and frightened, dear 
 mother. I fear from what I see that some 
 of the roving bands of soldiers have been 
 here, many of whom are to and fro on the 
 road. Thank Grod, they have done you no 
 harm. How unfortunate that our brave 
 men are away !" 
 
 " Some soldiers have been here, 
 daughter," said Marie, not wishing to ex- 
 cite Ardoine's fears, " but the conduct of one 
 of them was indeed strange. God must have 
 touched his heart : he burst violently into 
 the room, and I thought I should have been
 
 DAGOT. 331 
 
 kOled, wlien liis whole manner was suddenly 
 changed, and lie moistened my lips, and did 
 all he could to protect and cheer me." 
 
 "How strange!" said Ardoine, mus- 
 
 " Blessed be God !" continued Marie ; 
 " He does not leave us in our trials, but is 
 able at all times to give us out of his 
 fulness what we need. Oh, how sweet to 
 have a Saviour's bosom to recline on ! I 
 long to be with Him, for the sting of death 
 is gone, and even now I live beneath his 
 smiles. Daughter, you don't know with 
 what delight I look for his approach ; but 
 thanks be to Him I have still patience 
 given me to wait his time." 
 
 "Mother," said Ardoine, after a pause, 
 " I wonder that I don't see Uncle Jean and 
 any of the children about. Where can 
 they have gone ? I feel quite frightened. 
 Oh, Janavel and Raynald, where are you ? 
 forsake us not." 
 
 "My daughter, calm yourself. Take
 
 332 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 my Bible, cliild, and read to me from its 
 blessed pages." 
 
 '^ I will, mother ; shall I read at any 
 particular place ?" 
 
 '' Read something my Saviour said, for 
 comfort flows to me from every page of 
 God's Word, but especially from Christ's 
 words ; they make my soul burn. I love a 
 chapter though it be full of names, for I 
 know it is from God. Oh, nothing in the 
 world is so dear to me as God's Word ! it is 
 dearer than thousands of gold and silver ; 
 it imparts such a blessedness to the 
 soul. I have tasted it, and know it is 
 so sweet from experience. I wish to feel 
 Christ in the Bible speaking afresh to me, 
 and then when I contemplate Christ in his 
 Word, and what He has done for me, 
 my soul wants to burst its bonds, and 
 soar on wings above, beyond this present 
 world." 
 
 Marie was suddenly interrupted by the 
 door being burst violently open, and the
 
 DAGOT. 333 
 
 dreaded mercenary Dagot ruslied into the 
 room. He flew towards Ardoine, wlio was 
 on lier knees by lier mother's bedside, with 
 her hands clasped, and her head resting 
 upon the open Bible. At the sound of 
 those footsteps terror paled her cheek, 
 making its hue almost as blanched as that 
 of the wan sufferer. As she fell at Dagot' s 
 feet and besought pity for herself and her 
 mother, she might have given Eaphael a 
 model of an unfallen angel supplicating for 
 a fallen world. 
 
 '^ Ah, I have found you at last, and a 
 long search I have had for you. I thought 
 you'd not be far off that old hag, who I 
 heard lay sweltering here. You left me 
 in the river last time, did you, when your 
 lover was by ? But now it is my turn, and 
 by the Yirgin I'll have my revenge. Well, 
 don't be afraid, my little bird, I'll treat you 
 gently. I've been a bachelor this five-and- 
 forty years, because I could not mate, but 
 this is the girl for the Frenchman Dagot.
 
 334 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 Wliat, won't you come quietly? Tlien I 
 must help you." 
 
 So saying, lie seized her in Ms arms, 
 and dragged her downstairs to another side 
 of the building. 
 
 ''My pretty maid, fear not. I will find 
 our priest to tie the holy knot between us. 
 But we can postpone that for fear of acci- 
 dents, and then the conscience of a heretic 
 need not regret a Frenchman and a 
 Catholic." . 
 
 Ardoine screamed and struggled, but it 
 was of no avail. She was in the grasp 
 of one whom plunder and passion had 
 aroused to madness, and the blackness of 
 despair seemed to have sealed her fate.
 
 CHAPTER XXYIII. 
 
 THE EESCUE. 
 
 EcHASD had been appointed by the Marquis 
 of Pianesse to conduct some troops from 
 Turin to La Tour and its neiglibourliood, 
 to be used if necessary for tlie enforcement 
 of Gastaldo's edict. 
 
 It T^as not until tlie afternoon of tlie 
 28tb. tliat lie approached the scene of his 
 mission. He had fallen somewhat behind 
 his detachment, when he was met by the 
 Irish soldier, Michael 0' Flanagan, whom 
 Malvicino had sent to intercept or divert 
 his route. 
 
 " Och, in troth there's jist the man I'm 
 saking. I'll be afther teUing him all about
 
 336 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 it. Plase yer honor there's been a great 
 row in the farm hard by on yonder road, 
 and if yon conld do them a sarvice I should 
 be obleeged to you. In one of the rooms 
 there's one hke the ghost of my mither, poor 
 sowl. She's one of them six sisthers, and 
 ould father, the Abbot, sint me to tell you 
 not to come there ; and I'll discharge my 
 mission, descinded as I am from the kings 
 of Connaught, by my mither' s side. But 
 yer'd do a power o' good if you did go, and 
 might save some poor girl. If those be 
 your soldiers, some of them have gone in 
 there, for I saw some cattle standin' about. 
 
 misther, go and see if ye can do any 
 good, but remimber I towld you what the 
 Abbot towld me, to tell ye not to go there. 
 
 1 did, I did, as I'm the last mimber of the 
 race of the kings of Connaught." 
 
 E chard did not wait to hear more, for 
 liis humanity prompted him to do all in his 
 power to mitigate the severities and horrors 
 which would inevitably attend tliis whole-
 
 THE EESCUE. 337 
 
 sale and sudden eviction. Seeing some of 
 his men near the farm of La Baudene, he 
 concluded that it was the house to wliich 
 O'Flanagan referred, and on entering 
 recognized it as the place where he had 
 been three days before. The httle he had 
 then seen of the family had interested him, 
 and he remembered the romantic account 
 of their patriarchal union and singular 
 habits of hfe. The scene of devastation 
 in the court that met his eye needed no 
 interpreter, while the cm^ses and oaths of 
 the soldiers attested too faithfally the riot 
 of the messengers of death. He hastened 
 to find the sufierer to whom 0' Flanagan 
 referred. From the Irishman's directions 
 he soon found the outbuilding, and mount- 
 ing the stairs advanced to Marie's bedside, 
 threading his way amid the broken fur- 
 niture. 
 
 " Good lady," he whispered in a gentle 
 voice, " do not be afraid, I am an officer of 
 the Duke ; I will take care that none of these 
 VOL. I. . z
 
 338 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 soldiers liurt you. I will stand at your 
 door and protect you myself." 
 
 " My daughter," articulated the sufferer 
 with difficulty, "my Ardoine, save her ! 
 Oh, sir, a mother's heart beseeches you ! 
 They have taken her away. My daughter, 
 my daughter 1 Hasten and save her." 
 
 After the first burst of grief, Marie 
 appeared to recover herself, and clasping 
 her hands whispered, " Father, forgive me. 
 I will drink the cup that my Father puts 
 into my hands to the dregs ; it is min- 
 gled with love. The more I suffer, the 
 more I rejoice in Christ my Saviour. All 
 flows from infinite love, which I feel 
 through the power of the Holy Ghost. 
 'God is love'!" 
 
 " Christ's righteousness is seamless," 
 continued the sufferer, after a pause, with 
 unusual emphasis ; "I have no fears of 
 death, for Christ is all-sufficient. He is my 
 anchor. He has paid all my debts, and 
 therefore I have peace. I have no hope in
 
 THE EESCUE. 339 
 
 myself. His merits are my plea, and with 
 this I can cahnly enter into eternity. 
 ' Thanks be unto God for his unspeakable 
 gift ! God is love'!" 
 
 The officer stood silent, as if debating 
 how he could assist her, and evidently 
 struck mth the warm heart-breathings 
 which issued from that corpse-hke form, 
 while his hps mechanically repeated her last 
 words, '''God is love'!" 
 
 He had hardly left the room before seve- 
 ral of his soldiers, with fearful oaths and 
 uproar, began to mount the stairs. 
 
 " Back," cried E chard, in a tone of 
 command; " soldiers, you know your officer, 
 back ; sound the bugle ; to horse ; for we 
 must on to La Tour." 
 
 Abashed at this unexpected order, the 
 men descended the wooden staircase with 
 heavy tramp, muttering oaths against him 
 who had marred their plans. 
 
 Echard turned, and gently hfted the 
 latch, in order to reassure the sufferer. He
 
 340 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 went to the coucli, and in a wliisper ex- 
 liorted lier not to tremble, for lie would pro- 
 tect her at the risk of his life. Receiving 
 no answer, he bent over the body, when, 
 to his surprise, he found that she was a 
 corpse. Marie had silently fallen asleep in 
 Jesus, in the midst of the tumult and blas- 
 phemy that had desecrated that once peace- 
 ful home. The longed-for moment, which 
 summed up her twenty-one years' captivity, 
 had come at last. It had come suddenly 
 and swiftly. For years the vigils of love 
 had been incessantly kept by her bedside, 
 but when death came she was alone. None 
 heard her sigh of severance ; none bowed 
 to catch her farewell speech. None learned 
 her last experiences, nor sighed to mark 
 the glazing film of death overspreading her 
 eyes. A smile lingered on her features, as 
 if at the last some bright foretaste of heaven 
 had flooded her heart when ceasing to beat, 
 a smile more plaintive because begotten in 
 death, and leaving its impress upon that
 
 THE RESCUE. 341 
 
 forlorn and tenantless body to typify 
 victory over the grave. Ecliard paused as 
 he gazed on that spectral face, and im- 
 printed its last expression upon his memory. 
 He had beheld death on the field of battle 
 in all its varied shapes of horror, but he 
 felt a thrill as of a mystic spell, a calm 
 wafting of his own soul to heaven, as he 
 came in contact with the King of Terrors, 
 so noiseless, so tranquil, and apparently so 
 welcome in that lone chamber. 
 
 The scene of the last death-bed he had 
 witnessed a few weeks before recurred 
 forcibly to his mind. He had there seen 
 one endowed with rank and fortune, and 
 noted for her religious zeal, struggling with 
 death. Yeb, what were her experiences ? 
 Fearfiilness, and a horrible dread over- 
 whelmed her; imprecations and cries of 
 agony came from those lips on which the 
 last word was ' ' blood ! ' ' Her heart was filled 
 with dissatisfaction and fear; the proud 
 Marchioness trembled before her Judge,
 
 342 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 and all tlie usual appalling adjuncts of death 
 liad been heightened in the case of her he 
 called mother. But in this obscure cham- 
 ber peace seemed to hallow death; a joy 
 and bright desire had flooded that spirit 
 whose last utterance was ^' ' God is love' !" 
 His breast heaved, as he contrasted the 
 two scenes, and heard the voice of conscience 
 suggesting which was the most worthy of 
 Grod and of pure religion. 
 
 "Strange utterance!" said E chard to 
 himself; "" ' God is love ' ! when things look 
 so much the reverse. The religion which can 
 produce such fruits cannot be so thoroughly 
 bad as our Church represents." 
 
 Laying his hand on that cold forehead, 
 and closing his eyes, he involuntarily 
 breathed a prayer as he murmured her last 
 words, " ' God is love ' ! " 
 
 In the midst of his reflections, he was 
 startled at hearing piercing cries in the 
 court-yard : they were the voices of pur- 
 suer and pursued. He listens : he hastens
 
 THE EESCUE. 343 
 
 to tlie stairs. Tlie cries approach; tlie 
 pursued flies across tlie com^t-yard, tlie 
 pursuer follows. Ardoine's feet scarce touch 
 the ground; Dagot's hand all but grasps 
 her garments. In unreasoning despair she 
 makes for her mother's room; she sees 
 some one before her. He has on the uni- 
 form of Sayoy; honour may lurk in his 
 breast : she must trust him. " Oh save 
 me ! save me ! Oh mother, mother, save 
 me, save me !" 
 
 A glance at the girl was enough to in- 
 terest Echard in her fate. It must be the 
 daughter. To draw his sword and inter- 
 cept the soldier was the act of a moment. 
 
 " Back, villain ! " shouted Echard, ad- 
 dressing Dagot, who was mounting the 
 stairs ; '' stand back, and leave the girl 
 alone. Back, or I'll hurl you back !" 
 
 "Will you?" said Dagot, whom drink 
 and fury had half maddened. " Will you ? 
 then take that ! " So saying, he seized liis 
 arquebus, and fired at Echard.
 
 344 THE SIX SISTEES OE THE VALLEYS. 
 
 The gathering twihght, andDagot's un- 
 steady aim, saved the officer. The shot 
 grazed his thigh, causing him to reel back- 
 wards. Dagot pressed on, but Echard, whose 
 sword was drawn, made a lunge forward, 
 and drove it through the wretched man's 
 breast. There was an awful groan; a 
 stream of blood deluged the stairs, and the 
 red drops trickled from the sword as it was 
 withdrawn from the body. 
 
 " Mother of God ! " said the man. '' I'm 
 killed. Holy Virgin, save me!" and the 
 soldier fell heavily backwards, and lay mo- 
 tionless at the foot of the stairs. 
 
 Casting one contemptuous glance upon 
 the fallen man, Echard entered the cham- 
 ber of death to reassure the object of his 
 pity.
 
 " The red drops trickled from the sword as it was withdrawn from tht 
 bodj." 
 
 Fuqe 3U.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE CHAMBER OF DEATH. 
 
 Aedoixe had fallen senseless near the door ; 
 E chard bent over her with the kindly feel- 
 ings of a protector, and his gaze rested for 
 the first time upon her countenance. The 
 eyes were shnt, the cheek was pale, the 
 golden hair was dishevelled, bnt a mystic 
 charm environed her and fascinated E chard's 
 heart. He needed not the inspirations of 
 death, yea, of the mother's corpse to 
 prompt liim to be the daughter's cham- 
 pion, for the sanctity of innocence and 
 the silent advocacy of beauty stirred his 
 generous nature. He placed her gently 
 on the sofa, turning her so that she should 
 not receive a shock from beholding that
 
 346 THE SIX SISTEES OE THE VAXLEYS. 
 
 lifeless form. It was some time before 
 consciousness returned. Did lie find those 
 moments tedious? He would have has- 
 tened lier recovery liad lie been able, but 
 did lie regret having the opportunity of 
 gazing upon that face without causing it to 
 quail, and of imprinting its features upon 
 his heart ? He felt what he had never felt 
 before — a strange interest riveted him ; an 
 unbidden passion seized his soul, and he 
 was no longer the same as when he first 
 entered that room. 
 
 After some time Ardoine gradually re- 
 covered and opened her eyes. 
 
 " Where am I ? Alas ! I remember. Is 
 it a dream ? Mother, dearest, I am with 
 you; are you safe? Oh, sir, forgive my 
 wanderings ; fear has almost deprived me 
 of my senses. Was it you upon whom I 
 cast myself to escape the soldier's grasp ? 
 How have I been saved ? You look as if 
 your heart was not iron, and as if a 
 woman's tears might touch you."
 
 THE CHAMBER OE DEATH. 347 
 
 Grasping liis liancl slie pressed it to lier 
 lips. Slie dropped it, however, wlien lier 
 modesty realized lier position, and caused 
 lier to restrain lier expression of grati- 
 tude ; but tlieir eyes liad met, tlieir liands 
 had touclied, and an electric tlirill caused 
 E chard to tremble tlirougliout his whole 
 frame. 
 
 " Calm yom\self, sister, calm yom^self ; 
 you are safe under my care — it was I who 
 rescued you on the stairs ; I have punished 
 the villain in a way he will not forget, if he 
 hves," added he in a lower tone, "to re- 
 member it." 
 
 " I hope you have not killed him. 
 What is that by your side ? It's your 
 sword, and it is red. heavens, what 
 scenes are taking |)lace in our beloved 
 home ! Grandfather and aunts, where 
 are you all?" 
 
 ''Do not excite yourself," said Echard, 
 *'I will shield you and yours; I swear to 
 you that, though I wear this uniform.,
 
 348 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 and differ from you in creed, your life and 
 honour sliall be as safe as tliat of my own 
 sister." 
 
 " Oil, sir, what troubles are coming 
 upon us ! this is the day of Gastaldo's 
 edict. Our home is broken up, our family 
 is scattered, and from what I saw below 
 even the very place seems spoiled and 
 sacked." 
 
 " God will support you ; we worship 
 the same God, and I think He will be 
 more ready to console you under these 
 trials than to bless us for causing them, 
 though they are done in the name of 
 rehgion." 
 
 "Thank you, sir, thank you for pro- 
 tecting me." 
 
 *' Thank me not for doing what my 
 heart prompted, and what will be the 
 choicest act of my life. May I ask in re- 
 turn that you will remember me ; my name 
 is E chard, and if the day comes when I can 
 befriend you, I will gladly do so. I came
 
 THE CHAMBER OF DEATH. 349 
 
 into this room before I saw you, and spoke 
 kindly to your mother." 
 
 '' mother, my darhng mother, let me 
 console her ; let me tell her there is a gene- 
 rous stranger here, who will protect us. 
 mother, I feel better; let me rise and 
 comfort her." 
 
 Echard was silent ; he could not speak, 
 for he was loth to add to the sorrow of one 
 whose beauty and artless manner had 
 already touched his heart. He knew that 
 she was an orphan, but delicacy forbad his 
 interfering with the sacredness of a daugh- 
 ter's woe. 
 
 "Mother, dear mother," said Ardoine, 
 approaching the bed and kneeling beside 
 it; "I am here, speak to me. I only left 
 you for a moment ; I could not come back 
 sooner; I am here, don't be frightened. 
 Speak to me, dearest mother; it is Ar- 
 doine." 
 
 She paused: no wonted smile of wel- 
 come overspread those pale features ; no
 
 350 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 liallowed blessing bade welcome to the 
 loving child. 
 
 Stretching out her hand, she placed it 
 on her mother's forehead; it was cold. 
 The truth flashed upon her ; she cast an in- 
 quiring look of helplessness at E chard. 
 '^ An orphan ! — alone ! — an orphan !" 
 The reahzation was too much; the 
 daughter sank beside the couch, apparently 
 as hfeless as the pale corpse which lay 
 thereon.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THE STETJGGLE. 
 
 Rayxald, wlio had been escorting some of 
 tlie family to Yillar, returned to La Ban- 
 dene in tlie evening. As lie approaclied 
 tlie liome of his youth, he was startled by 
 the surrounding marks of desolation and 
 ruin. The meadow was torn up by horses' 
 feet, and the court strewn with fragments 
 of ftirnitm^ej clothing, books, and household 
 articles, half buried in mud or snow. His 
 thoughts instinctively turned to Ardoine. 
 Had she returned ? Was she safe ? Where 
 was Aunt Marie ? Torn with harrowing 
 fears he rushed to her room, but, in his 
 breathless haste, fell over somethino- that
 
 352 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 blocked up tlie stairs leading to tliat sacred 
 cliamber. Raising himself lie drew near 
 to the entrance, and held up his hand in the 
 ebbing moonlight. It was wet with blood. 
 In mad frenzy he leaped over the prostrate 
 corpse, and pushed open the shattered 
 door. The fitful light of the moon and 
 the tremulous glare of a torch in the 
 court-yard, enabled him to distinguish 
 objects. His aunt lay in her accustomed 
 place. His senses reeled as he turned and 
 beheld Ardoine lying near her mother, 
 motionless like a corpse, while an officer in 
 uniform was bending over her, and pressing 
 her hand to his lips. A streak of hght 
 flitted across the stranger's features, and 
 Raynald recognized him as the bearer of 
 Gastaldo's edict, who had announced this 
 cruel order to the family only three days 
 before, and with whom he had that alterca- 
 tion. Jealousy and indignation fired the 
 heart of Raynald like the flame upon the 
 western prairie. This officer and his sol-
 
 THE STEUGGLE. 353 
 
 diers must have glutted their vengeance in 
 the destruction of the farm. He might be 
 the betrayer of Ardoine, as he was the mur- 
 derer of him who encumbered the stairs. 
 Without doubt it was the corpse of Uncle 
 Jean, who had been left in charge of Aunt 
 Marie and the children. 
 
 A sword dripping with blood, whose 
 jewelled handle ghttered as the light fell 
 upon it, lay upon the floor. He remem- 
 bered having seen it in the officer's hand, 
 and it gave cruel confirmation to the dread- 
 ful suspicions. 
 
 "Wretch!" cried Kaynald, rushing 
 upon Echard, "do I meet you again in 
 this once blessed home, as a destroyer 
 and bandit? Have you shed the blood 
 which stains this sword, you who are 
 found alone amid this desolation and 
 havoc ?" 
 
 In the dehrium of passion he grasped 
 Echard with the hand of a giant, and threw 
 him on the floor, while his eyes flashed with 
 
 VOL. I. A A
 
 354 THE SIX SISTEES OE THE VALLEYS. 
 
 the transports of rage, wliicli recks not 
 wliether life or deatli trembles in tlie 
 balance. Ecliard, tliougli taken unawares, 
 was not altogether powerless. Coiling his 
 legs round those of Eaynald, he caused 
 him to fall forwards, and lose his grasp. 
 Their hands seek each other's throats, they 
 struggle, they writhe, they strain with all 
 the energy of passion and Avarm-blooded 
 youth. 
 
 B-aynald is uppermost; he plants his 
 knee upon Echard's breast, and passing his 
 hand across his own forehead to throw back 
 his hair, and recover his senses and sight, 
 gropes for the sword, which he had ob- 
 served on the floor ; grasping it, he bran- 
 dishes it in the air, before plunging it into 
 his adversary's breast. 
 
 " Young man," gasped E chard, " mur- 
 der not the guiltless, nor outrage the dead. 
 Look at that pale corpse ; it has not suf- 
 fered violence." 
 
 The noise of the struggle had meanwhile
 
 THE STRUGGLE. 355 
 
 aroused Ardoine to consciousness, and with 
 woman's intuition, she comprehended the 
 complex and dangerous misapprehensions. 
 The sword was still in Raynald's hand, and 
 the gripe with which he held E chard was 
 stern and avenging. 
 
 " Oh, EaynaldjRajnald,'* cried Ardoine, 
 "stay; he is not the man; he saved me ! 
 he saved me ! He spoke kindly ; I had — 
 I had perished but for him. It was the 
 soldier of the river — Dagot you called him ;" 
 and the agonized girl, springing from the 
 bed, under the imparted strength of fear, 
 flung herself between the combatants. 
 
 '' Oh, Eaynald, Raynald — my mother, 
 my mother ! She is gone at last. She was 
 alone, and none of us with her to close her 
 eyes. My mother dead — dead !" 
 
 " Lord of heaven," exclaimed Eay- 
 nald, " are these dreams ? are we exiles ? 
 Does murder stain this threshold ? Has 
 death at this awful time invaded this room ? 
 Aunt Marie — art thou gone? — Oh, it is too
 
 356 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 mucli — I am bewildered. — Pardon me, sir, 
 if you are guiltless, and are our friend. If 
 you liave rescued tMs sister, you have 
 earned my gratitude, and saved me from 
 another woe. Your heart must plead for 
 the frenzy of sudden and crushing grief." 
 
 "Eaynald," said Echard, disengaging 
 himself and rising, '' Eaynald, for such I 
 hear is your name, I can pardon the ravings 
 of a broken heart. I appear to you as a 
 Papal foe, as one who has abetted the havoc 
 and ruin which you see around, but I rejoice 
 to say that I have saved your sister ; and I 
 was ready to risk my life to preserve the 
 sanctity of the sick room. Yon corpse at 
 the foot of the stairs is proof of my words. 
 He is one of our soldiers, whose blood you 
 see on my sword. Let that witness that I 
 have been your friend." 
 
 " Forgive me," said the young peasant, 
 extending his hand, " forgive me if I have 
 acted hastily. Appearances were against 
 you, and you see enough around to fire any
 
 THE STEUGGLE. 357 
 
 man's blood, especially wlien I tliouglit that 
 both were corpses." 
 
 "Thank God," said Ai^loine, "that 
 further bloodshed has been spared, but it 
 is miserable to weep over my lost mother. 
 I thank you again, generous sir, I thank 
 you, and should these troublous times bring 
 any of us into danger, oh befriend us, I be- 
 seech you, if it hes in your power." 
 
 " I will, I will, I solemnly swear it ! 
 Farewell, young mistress ! farewell, Eay- 
 nald!" 
 
 E chard's feehngs made him loth to 
 leave. He could have hngered anywhere 
 if Ardoine's shadow might but cross his 
 path ; but duty summoned liim elsewhere. 
 He left the house with a sigh, as he went 
 to search for his horse. From time to 
 time he unconsciously turned his head, 
 peering into the darkness under the vain 
 hope that he might catch another glimpse 
 of her he began passionately to love. 
 
 Though he felt the mockery of the
 
 358 THE SIX SISTEES OP THE VALLEYS. 
 
 tliouglit, it was like a spell upon Ms heart — 
 for tlie wisli was father to the thought. 
 Driving his spurs into his horse's side, he 
 plunged into the gathering darkness, and 
 rode off after his soldiers in the direction 
 of La Tour.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE ABSOLUTION. 
 
 *' Oh, mother," cried Ardoine, after Echard 
 had left, " how can I forgive myself? Alas, 
 was I away when your last summons came ? 
 Mother, are you gone, gone for ever ?" 
 
 " Dearest Ardoine," said Raynald, " do 
 not give way to your feehngs. It will make 
 you ill, and you wiU need yoTn" strength and 
 nerve for what may he before us." 
 
 " Oh, Raynald, what shall we do ? we 
 are here alone ; more soldiers may come ; 
 I feel distracted." 
 
 "I think the best thing is for me to 
 escort you to Yillar, where Father Janavel 
 and most of our family are. I expected
 
 380 THE SIX SISTERS OE THE VALLEYS. 
 
 some of them back again, but tliey must 
 liave been longer tlian tliey anticipated ; 
 and now tliat the darkness has come on 
 with the rain and snow, I should doubt 
 their returning. I know father will ; his 
 kind brave heart will bring him back to 
 protect Aunt Marie, and keep Uncle Jean 
 and the cliildren company. But, on the 
 other hand, we cannot tell what misfortunes 
 may have happened to them likewise. But 
 where are Uncle Jean and the cliildren ? 
 Have they gone ? I see nothing of them." 
 
 '' Oh, mother, I cannot leave you," 
 cried Ardoine, whose grief made her for a 
 moment heedless of her cousin. " "Will you 
 not speak any more ? Are you gone at 
 last? Dead — dead. My heart is broken." 
 
 '' Ardoine, dear Ardoine, you will not 
 derive any benefit from staying here, but, 
 on the contrary, you will expose yourself 
 to danger. I feel that it is painful for you 
 to leave, but if you will follow my guidance, 
 we will join the rest of our friends. I will
 
 THE ABSOLUTION. 361 
 
 place you in safety, and then return and 
 pay honour to the dead. You are not afraid 
 to trust yourself alone to my escort, are 
 you?" 
 
 "Raynald," rephed Ardoine, weeping 
 bitterly, '' how can you ask such a ques- 
 tion ? Can I be safer than under the pro- 
 tection of one who is dear to me as my own 
 brother ?" 
 
 '' Alas, only as a brother," murmured 
 the young man, as he arranged the room, 
 and waited whilst Ardoine fastened her hood. 
 
 " Mother, do I thus leave you ? Oh 
 think me not selfish nor unkind ! Your 
 soul, I know, is in heaven, with the 
 Saviour whom you loved so much. Alas, 
 this will be the last time that I shall 
 see you, the last time I shall look at 
 that dear face, which I have watched and 
 loved all my hfe long;" and the bereaved 
 daughter threw herself on the bed, and 
 covered the cold face with burning tears 
 and kisses.
 
 362 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 On descending the stairs Eaynald was 
 startled at hearing a groan. 
 
 "Water, water," cried a feeble voice. 
 
 It proceeded from the unfortunate 
 Dagot, in whom hfe still Hngered. Fol- 
 lowing his generous promptings, Eaynald 
 lifted up the wounded man, and carried him 
 across the courtyard into a lower room, 
 where he tried to stanch his wound, wliile 
 Ardoine ran to the fountain to fetch some 
 water to moisten his lips. The sword had 
 pierced his breast, and as he had fallen 
 backwards the blood had trickled down, 
 and clotted his matted hair. After re- 
 ceiving the water, he uttered a convulsive 
 groan, and relapsed into his previous 
 insensibility. The two cousins then left 
 the farm, and took the road that led to 
 Villar, intending to make a circuit to avoid 
 La Tour, which was filled with soldiers. 
 They had not proceeded far before they 
 heard voices in the distance. 
 
 "By Pope Hadrian lY., the Enghsh
 
 THE ABSOLUTION'. 363 
 
 beggar of St. Albans," said a gruff voice, 
 " this 28t]i of January is a niglit to be re- 
 membered in these valleys. This edict is a 
 noble work of faith, and will effect a good 
 clearance. What were you telling me, Pla- 
 cido, about that farm that hes on the way 
 where I was this morning ?" 
 
 " I hear it has been sacked by some of 
 cm' soldiers," rephed Placido Corso, a 
 Eomish priest who accompanied the Abbot, 
 '' and I fear they have ill-treated its inmates. 
 I heard a report that one of them, who was 
 thinking more of Yenus than Mars, has 
 got into trouble." 
 
 '' Ah," replied Malvicino, "I'll bet the 
 knuckle of St. Anthony he's been after the 
 girl that I saw there, who, I dare say, 
 turned up directly I left." 
 
 " What is her name ? It begins with an 
 
 A. By Pope , what's become of 
 
 my memory; it's getting worse. The 
 more's the want of a young housekeeper to 
 keep my accounts. Ardoine, that's her
 
 364 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 name ; I knew it began witli an A. I must 
 try and keep lier out of old Simond's way, 
 or lie and I may clasli wlien we ckant our 
 Nunc dimittis next time." 
 
 " Simond," said the Abbot aloud, ad- 
 dressing another of Ms companions, '' you're 
 late ; tlie army has been before the church, 
 and you'll not find much left at this farm, 
 I fear, for your fire brigade. However, let 
 me strip it, if there's anything worth having, 
 before you smash and burn everything, as 
 you did in that Yaudois temple the other 
 day." 
 
 '' Down with the harhets,^' said Simond, 
 brandishing his large gilt crucifix. " Why, 
 wasn't it with some of this cursed nest 
 that I had the argument one day at La 
 Tour ? Argue with them ! pull them up 
 root and branch, knock them down with 
 your crucifix ; that's what, if I recollect my 
 classics, Aristotle might call an argumentum 
 ad hominem.^' 
 
 *' We're rather late," soliloquised the
 
 THE ABSOLUTION. 365 
 
 Abbot. ''It must be eigiit o'clock; tlie 
 Church's work is penitential this cold and 
 dark night; the Abbot must not forget 
 himself." 
 
 " I'll warrant," rephed Simond, "we'll 
 soon kindle some more hght, and be able 
 to read vespers out of our missals by 
 the aid of the bonfire these heretics shall 
 give us. Would," added he, "that we had 
 their bodies on the gridiron, and not the 
 refuse of their goods, wliich our mihtary 
 apostles have left behind." 
 
 " Spirits in purgatory !" said Placido 
 Corso, as he entered the farm, "what have 
 we here ? Father Malvicino, here's a 
 wounded soldier; the man's dying — he's 
 dying ! Quick, we must absolve him, or it 
 will be too late." 
 
 "You can do so," rephed Malvicino, 
 "if you are charitably disposed; for my- 
 self, I'm too poor to work for nothing. 
 Peter keeps the fees he gets at the gate ; I 
 don't transact business for the next world.
 
 366 THE SIX SISTEES OP THE VALLEYS. 
 
 save on present commission. Confound 
 tlie girl!" added lie aside; ''I fear I've 
 lost lier." 
 
 '' Filtliy lucre^ wortliy Abbot, sbonld 
 not keep you from benefiting a man's soul ; 
 if his hours in the flames of purgatory can 
 be shortened by your prayers, charity bids 
 you not be silent. Besides, he'll have 
 something; you can take his sword and 
 helmet ; he got his wound in fighting here- 
 tics, and a plenary absolution is promised 
 by the Pope to all who assist in this holy 
 work; so I think we must open the door 
 for him, and not keep him outside among 
 the harhets ; we can shorten his time any- 
 how." 
 
 "Give me," said Malvicino, "give me 
 what he's got, we shall get something for 
 them at the Monte di Pieta." 
 
 " Poor fellow," said Placido Corso, "his 
 life's ebbing; I'll do what I can for him, as 
 I would for one of these heretics ; I would 
 rather convert them by love than by fire
 
 THE ABSOLUTION. 367 
 
 and sword, but De La Mena tliinks that 
 the uprooting heretics is agreeable to 
 Moses and well pleasing to God." 
 
 Malvicino taking his crucifix from his 
 girdle, held it up before the glazing eye of 
 the dying man. 
 
 '' Gnaffe /" exclaimed he suddenly, as he 
 saw the man's countenance, " By Pope 
 Gregory YII. who — it's the man I sent 
 to catch the girl. There's foul play here ; 
 some harhet has run him through in the 
 discharge of his duty, and perhaps rescued 
 the girl. I must absolve him, and send 
 him into heaven at once." 
 
 Taking two pieces of wood and tying 
 them in the form of a cross, he placed it in 
 Dagot's hand, and hung a small image of 
 the Virgin round his neck. Dramng from 
 liis pocket three wax tapers and hghting 
 them, he placed two of them on either side 
 of Dagot's head, and the third in his right 
 hand. The dying man was unable to hold 
 it upright. The scalding wax dropped
 
 368 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 upon Mm as lie lay upon Ms back, and the 
 taper, slipping from Ms grasp, was soon 
 extinguislied on tlie floor. 
 
 The Abbot, without loss of time, fell 
 upon Ms knees and began chanting the 
 Litany for the dying. He dipped a feather 
 into a small pMal of oil, and making the 
 sign of the cross on Dagot's forehead, 
 said ; — 
 
 " Holy Mary, holy Abel, holy Abraham, 
 all ye holy martyrs, St. Sylvester, St. 
 Gregory, St. Augustine, St. Benedict, St. 
 Francis, pray for him." 
 
 ''There, Father Placido," said Malvi- 
 cino, "I think we have shriven him, and 
 may now attend to the wants of the flesh. 
 I'm afraid our sons will have forgotten 
 their spiritual fathers, and have left them 
 nothing to drink." 
 
 The dying man groaned heavily; beck- 
 oning with his hand to Malvicino to 
 approach, he turned Ms gory face towards 
 Mm, and with difficulty gasped out, "It
 
 THE ABSOLUTION. 369 
 
 was tlie man you call Ecliard — lie — lie — 
 ran — me — tlirougli ; — tlie girl — I had 
 caught lier — revenge — me." A ghastly 
 glare shot through his eye, and the wild 
 look became fixed. It was stamped in 
 death. 
 
 "Ye popes and anti-popes!" said the 
 monk aside, "he's spoken to some pur- 
 pose ; the time may come when this know- 
 ledge may prove useful, for I have a 
 grudge against that half-hearted fellow; 
 he seems much changed since he's been to 
 Eome. Though I was confessor to the 
 late Marchioness, he's been very slow in 
 coming to confess, as if he suspected my 
 intrigues. I must be careful though, for 
 he stands well with the Marquis, and has 
 responsible posts given him. But this may 
 get him into trouble. I may as well be off 
 now, and leave my brother to finish the 
 work. Oh ! vengeance to him if he has 
 supplanted me, and carried off the heretic 
 Dehlah!" 
 
 VOL. I. B B
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 LA BAUDENE. 
 
 SiMOND was followed by several monks 
 from the convent of La Tour, who arrived 
 at the farm bearing the implements of de- 
 struction to finish the work which the 
 military had begun. He placed himself at 
 the head of the ecclesiastics, whose excited 
 passions little needed the incentive of his 
 own fanaticism. Some broke down the 
 doors with pickaxes and crowbars, others 
 threw the contents of the rooms into the 
 central court. The pile increased. Tables, 
 chairs, beds, articles of clothing, books, were 
 hurled into the general chaos. Tearing the 
 leaves out of the Bibles, the monks in-
 
 LA BAUDEXE. 371 
 
 serted tliem into tlie crevices to quicken 
 the conflagration. The very floors were 
 torn up, and added to the wreck. 
 
 " JSTow then," said Simond, " give me a 
 hght." 
 
 " Take care, man, the rain ^vill 
 quench it." 
 
 '' Then I'll fire this harhefs manuscript. 
 Ill make a bonfire that shall warm those 
 that are shivering up there on Angrogna's 
 hiUs." 
 
 " There, look out. Irishman," cried Yil- 
 lalmin, addressing O'Donoghue, whose na- 
 tive instincts had brought him back to the 
 scene of wreck and plunder, " or this chair 
 will hit you on the head. There, set it on 
 the top. It's dry wood, and wiU bm^n like 
 tinder.^' 
 
 It was Rodolphe's chair. Age and 
 piety could invest it with no charms in the 
 eyes of these outlaws. The cot in which 
 the two httle ones had slept the night be- 
 fore was crackhng in the blaze, and the
 
 372 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 toys of Etienne, Susamie, and Aline were 
 fuel to the devouring flame. The vines 
 were uprooted, and the trees of the avenue 
 felled and cast into the pile. 
 
 The rolling flames from this furnace in 
 the yard now towered aloft, lighting up the 
 naked outline of the walls, and forming, with 
 their intervening masses of black smoke, 
 a gloomy contrast to the snow- clad hills 
 which the moon revealed beyond. The 
 monks, with fiendish exultation, danced 
 round the pile, singing in one chorus — 
 
 " Cantet mine lo, 
 Chorus Angelorum 
 Cantet nune aula eoelestium, 
 Gloria 
 in excelsis Deo." 
 
 The fire was lighted in those parts of 
 the building which happened to be standing 
 or had escaped gutting. The children, 
 consisting of Susanne, Claude, and Revel, 
 who had hidden themselves away among
 
 LA BAUDENE. 373 
 
 the firewood and casks, had remained there 
 some time half dead with fear, and trusting 
 that Uncle Janavel or Jean might come to 
 their rescue. But they began to feel in 
 their hiding-place the approach of the 
 flames, and were driven from the place of 
 their retreat. 
 
 "Father Simond," exclaimed Cattahn, 
 as he saw them in the distance and heard 
 their screams, "here are some of the young 
 vipers. The Holy Ofiice would condemn 
 them to the flames; here you must turn 
 inquisitor ; the stake is all ready." 
 
 " Come here, my children," said Catta- 
 lin, calhng out to them; "come, and we 
 will save you from the flames." 
 
 Revel hesitated. He stood with his 
 flushed face and black hair conspicuous 
 under the arching flames which showered 
 down the flaking sparks upon him ; and 
 looked upon the charred masses which 
 seemed to have intercepted his path. 
 
 " Come, sister," said he, taking hold of
 
 374 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 Susanne's liand ; '^ I don't understand wliat 
 is happening. Fatlier and mother are gone ; 
 the house seems broken and on fire, and it's 
 so very hot here. Oh can I not pray ?" said 
 the child ; " God sees me. ' Our Father, 
 which art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name.' 
 Come, sissy, can you say that prayer which 
 Ardoine taught you? There, stand near 
 me. See ! that wood is burning and going 
 to drop ! Take care — it just missed us ! 
 There now, don't scream so, clasp your 
 hands as Ardoine taught you : perhaps we 
 can't get out, and are going to die." 
 
 " Oh Ardy, cossy Ardy, where are you ?" 
 said the child weeping, and heedless of her 
 brother's words. 
 
 " Come, sister, pray as you do every 
 night before you go to bed. Say, ' Our 
 Father.' " 
 
 " ' Our Father,' " whispered the child. 
 
 The gathering flames now drove them 
 more forward, and Cattalin, seeing them, 
 cried —
 
 LA BATJDENE. 375 
 
 " So you have crept fortli, you heretical 
 cubs. I'll break your bones if you don't 
 cross yourselves and say ' Ave Maria.^ " 
 
 " ' Our Father, which art in heaven,' " 
 said the two children together in the music 
 of childhood, more sweet amid the roaring 
 crash of their bm^ning home. 
 
 " Do you hear ?" said the ruffian, raising 
 his sword over Eevel's head. " Quick, or 
 I'll cut you. One — two — three — " 
 
 " Our Father," rephed the child. 
 
 The sword descended. The boy feU 
 backward on the ground, and his gashed 
 face was turned upwards. The white froth 
 mingled with the dark blood encrusted his 
 lips, but the spmt had taken its place before 
 the God he had lately addressed as his 
 Father, who was in heaven. 
 
 "Come here," said Simond, catching 
 hold of Claude. " Here, Cattahn, help me 
 to hold the wrigghng eel. Now, say * Ave 
 Maria.' — He won't? Eh? There, give him a 
 dig with your dagger. — Say it ; do you hear ?
 
 376 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 He won't ; tlien give liim a prod. Here, 
 lend it me ; I'll give liini one eacli time lie 
 won't say it," said tlie minister of religion, 
 in a paroxysm of rage. " All ! tlie little 
 beast is dead now." 
 
 Snsanne liad little time to mourn her 
 brother, for tlie ruf&an monk, regardless of 
 tlie sanctity of childhood, seized her with 
 both his hands, and, bringing her into 
 the court-yard, flung her with all his 
 might on to the funeral pile. The little 
 girl is hurled aloft ; her head strikes against 
 fragments of her mother's bed — her gar- 
 ments are in a blaze. The little voice 
 screams, " Oh, Ardy, Ardy, what is this ? 
 Ardy, where are you?" and, as if the 
 last impression recurred in the spasms 
 of death, repeats the last words of her 
 brother. 
 
 The power of God was seen in perfect- 
 ing praise in the hps of babes ; for He who, 
 in His greatness, condescends to accept 
 the homage of archangels, in His great-
 
 LA BAUDENE. 377 
 
 ness accepts likewise the praises of infant 
 lips. 
 
 The fire raged in the court ; every now 
 and then a heavy crash was heard, indicat- 
 ing that some wall or chamber was added 
 to the wreck. 
 
 " How it burns!" cried Simond ; '' heap 
 on, heap on ! Thus saith the Lord, fire 
 and the sword for the worshippers of Jeze- 
 bel. These flames are but the shadow of 
 those eternal ones that are beino; heated 
 seven times in the furnace for heretics. Ah, 
 I only wish we had more of the brood them- 
 selves on the top. This is what the Coun- 
 cil of Turin should arrange, ' Gongregatio de 
 Propaganda Fide, et extirpandis Ha^reticis,' " 
 
 " Oh, misther clargy, what are you af- 
 ther?" cried O'Donoghue, addressing the 
 ecclesiastic. " Shm^e and what wark are 
 you making. Was it not enough to turn out 
 the varmin without destroyin' their houses P 
 This was the place that was to be given to 
 some of us Irish, and I had set my heart
 
 378 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 on it. Arrali, mastliers ! frinds 1 Plielim, 
 Tracy, Patrick ! ye earned yer wages in 
 killin' these heretics, but they're nowrobbin' 
 us of our purvision for life." 
 
 " Stand out of the way, you mongrel 
 foreigner," said Simond, brandishing a 
 piece of burning wood. '' Here, let me get 
 inside to cast a light among that wood- 
 work. Fire the place ; how it blazes ! Look 
 at it, you dogs of Luther. If I could only 
 get hold of two or three harhets, I'd throw 
 
 The ayenger was near. A large, half- 
 charred beam snapped in two out of the 
 tottering roof, under which Simond was 
 standing, and, striking him on the head, 
 laid him senseless. The unfortunate victim 
 was not seen by liis companions, whom the 
 rage of the fire had compelled to retreat. 
 He had fallen not far from the corpse of 
 Dagot. Gradually the fire approaches ; the 
 heat recals liis senses ; he hears the roar — 
 lie sees the smoke : he feels the approach-
 
 LA BAUDENE. 379 
 
 ing flame — lie is unable to move ; lie groans 
 and curses in tlie midst of tlie place, wliere 
 E/odolplie's voice once faltered in tlie ac- 
 cents of prayer. Nature was tlie avenger 
 of tlie sisters, or ratlier tlie evil passions 
 of tlieir persecutors themselves. The fire 
 creeps on ; Simond's liair is singed. Tlie 
 flame advances ; it recks not whether it be 
 human flesh or wood. There is a taint on 
 the atmosphere as of bm-ning flesh. 
 
 _^ ^ 7K 7^ ^ ^ 
 
 The flame has rolled on; that fallen 
 monk is visible no more. But should the 
 ashes of that farm be sifted, among the 
 rehcs would have been found beside the 
 half-melted gilt crucifix calcined bones, and 
 fragments of skulls, the awful testimony 
 that two human beings had perished in the 
 conflagration of the farm of La Baudene.
 
 CHAPTEE XXXIII, 
 
 MIDNIGHT. 
 
 Silence once more. The melancliolj niglit 
 of the 28th rolls on, and the snow and 
 rain hiss as they fall upon the lurid 
 embers which smoulder inside the outer 
 walls of La Bandene. 
 
 This home, in which the band of sisters 
 dwelt in wedded harmony, presents a 
 mournful contrast to what it was at 
 the opening of the year. A change has 
 come. 1^0 waiting wife will stand on that 
 threshold to welcome her husband return- 
 ing from the labour of the day, or will 
 dance her child in her arms to catch the 
 first glimpse of the coming father; no
 
 MIDNIGHT. 381 
 
 husband will again count his homeward 
 steps until he sees his loving wife expect- 
 ing his retm^n ; no yearning mother will 
 affain marshal her little ones to receive 
 their grandfather's blessing; no bhthe band 
 of joyous children will frohc over that green 
 sward, or sport with the gushing fountain ; 
 no snatches of song from the young moun- 
 taineer will announce his step over the 
 quaking pine bridge ; no daughter will read 
 the old man his evening chapter, or soothe 
 his age, and minister to his wants ; no 
 mothers will again yearn over their sleep- 
 ing babes ; no sufferer will again call forth 
 the loving tribute of a patriarchal house- 
 hold. Desolation has come. Eome has 
 offered up this burnt offering to a God of 
 love, madly dreaming that the God of peace 
 will accept this impious desecration of 
 family ties as moral homage to Himself. 
 They think that He is such a one as them- 
 selves ; but He will reprove them, and set 
 before them the things which they have
 
 382 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 done. It were to brand heaven itself with, 
 infamy to say that it must be peopled by 
 the sword, or that eternal bliss is to be 
 secured by the mutilation of the body, or 
 the desolation of the hearth. 
 
 But enough. The Vatican has its 
 triumph; and the ashes of that charred 
 and blasted home are the trophies of that 
 pitiless Church which reigns by thunder 
 and bloodshed, and leagues together the 
 armies and felons of Europe as the apostles 
 of its disfigured creed. 
 
 Eaynald was right in his estimate of his 
 father's character. Considerate of others, 
 and fearless for himself, Janavel had re- 
 membered the precarious position of Marie 
 and her band of orphans. Several of 
 the family hoped to have returned early 
 in the afternoon, after depositing their 
 grandfather witliin the prescribed limits ; 
 but difficulty after difficulty had rendered
 
 MIDNIGHT. 383 
 
 it impossible. Janavel, lioweyer, resolved 
 to return. His sorrow for the desolation 
 of liis father's home passed into horror 
 as he approached the place. Before him 
 gleamed a lurid Hght, which tinged the out- 
 hne of the black overhanging clouds, while 
 fitful shoots of sparks indicated the pro- 
 gress of the flames. The scene which 
 burst upon him was enough to paralyse his 
 senses — the buildings inside were a dis- 
 mantled wreck, the charred, half-consumed 
 rafter stood out against the dark sky, the 
 yard was blocked with the scorched debris 
 of the house, the glowing embers of which 
 were every now and then fanned into a flame 
 by gusts of wind. 
 
 Janavel's thoughts were anxiously turned 
 to Marie, and he hastened to her aj^art- 
 ment, greatly fearing lest she had perished 
 in the flames. The out-building was, how- 
 ever, standing, and he hoped that she might 
 have been overlooked amid the general 
 riot. But when his eye fell upon her.
 
 384 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 lie saw that slie was a corpse. His lion- 
 hearted, yet child -like spirit felt this 
 second shock, for having missed Eaynald 
 and Ardoine on the road, he was unpre- 
 pared for these revelations of pillage and 
 death. 
 
 She was alone. She lay, as before, 
 in unruffled calmness, unscathed by the 
 flame. It seemed as if the very fire had 
 respected that saintly relic, and the me- 
 mories of that dim chamber. She lay in 
 the midst of the devouring flames of crash- 
 ing timbers and glowing embers, the type 
 of peace upon a battle-field, of hope upon 
 a bed of death. 
 
 Janavel fell upon his knees, and gazed 
 fixedly at the corpse. No murmur escaped 
 his lips. He was riveted to the spot. 
 His grief, hke that of Job, was too intense 
 for the outlets of common wailing. How 
 time passed he recked not. The distant 
 bell of the convent rang out the midnight 
 hour, and summoned its inmates to noc-
 
 MIDNIGHT. 3S5 
 
 turnes. He heard steps approach him ; he 
 heeded not whether it were friend or foe. It 
 is his son. Raynald having conducted Ar- 
 doine to a place of safety, and finding his 
 father absent, concluded that he had re- 
 turned to the farm. Janavel spoke not to 
 his son, and Raynald involuntarily knelt by 
 his side to supphcate Divine support in the 
 hour of trial. 
 
 After some time Janavel beckoned to 
 Raynald, and lea\dng in silence they went 
 into the garden to a large old cypress tree, 
 still standing amid the general wreck. 
 Underneath its dark shadow they began 
 digging. Their mournful labom^ proceeds 
 without exchange of words. They re- 
 turn to Marie's chamber, and Janavel 
 places his hand on that cold brow, wdiich 
 he now beholds for the last time. Care- 
 .fdly shrouding the body in the coverlid, 
 he carries it down. Overcome by liis feel- 
 ings, he pauses on those stairs still wet 
 with blood, and rests liis burden. It is 
 VOL. I. c c
 
 386 THE SIX SISTEES OF -THE VALLEYS. 
 
 one- and- twenty years since Marie was car- 
 ried to tliat clianiber, apparently stricken 
 unto deatli, and slie liad never since de- 
 scended. Slie is borne at last by tlie feet 
 of tliem wlio carry lier to tlie grave.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 THE ETJEIAL. 
 
 Maegueeite and Eenee, who liacl heard of 
 Eaynald's and Janavel's departure, returned 
 that same evening* to La Baudene, under 
 the escort of David, accompanied by two 
 or three of the children. 
 
 ''Oh, Marguerite!" cried Renee, hasten- 
 ing^ to their sister's room from the outer 
 approach, '' where is Marie ? Look, her 
 bed is empty ! Has some one carried her 
 off? Merciful Father, our griefs are com- 
 ing in upon us like a flood !" 
 
 " Hush, sister ; do not give way to 
 grief ; you know that Janavel and Eaynald 
 were bringing a litter to remove her.
 
 388 THE SIX SISTEES OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 Sometliing unforeseen has, doubtless, has- 
 tened their plans. Should this be so, the 
 sooner we return the better, for we can do 
 no good here, and may only expose our- 
 selves to danger." 
 
 Little Michel, who was with his mother, 
 could not understand what had happened. 
 He crept upon the foot of the bed, and 
 looked for his aunt. 
 
 " Aunty, aunty, where are you ?" cried 
 the child; " I have not seen you away be- 
 fore. Mother ! has aunty got well, or has 
 she at last gone to heaven ? I shall be 
 sorry to miss her, for I have seen her here 
 all my life." 
 
 "Marguerite," cried Madeleine, ''what 
 is this ? The stairs are wet ; the yard 
 seems full of broken things, and the main 
 dwelling has no roof, and looks as if it had 
 been burnt. Oh, sister ! this is a scene to 
 make us mourners for the rest of our lives." 
 
 '* Aunt Marguerite," said Etienne, who 
 met her at the door, '' I thought I saw
 
 THE BUIIIAL. 389 
 
 somebody like Uncle Janavel and Raynald 
 in tlie garden, near tlie old cypress tree ; I 
 saw tliem moving something wliite, and 
 tlien I did not see it any more, as if tliey 
 put it into tlie ground." 
 
 The sisters, joined by some other mem- 
 bers of the family who had arrived, went 
 down to the spot. The scene needed no 
 explanation. Janavel and Raynald knelt 
 by the side of a grave. A form lay in that 
 narrow cell. It was Marie ! The sisters, 
 the brothers, and the little ones fell on 
 their knees on the cold ground, and in 
 silence wept before God. They were exiles 
 in the heritage of their fathers ; their home 
 was a mass of ruins. Even Nature looked 
 friendless. Janavel turned his eye up the 
 valley of Lucerna, and amidst a rent in the 
 clouds the moon shone gloomily on the 
 crags of Castelluzzo. 
 
 The tears of the sisters fell into the grave. 
 The one they had cherished lay there, a prey 
 to the ruthless storm. Those lips, so elo-
 
 390 THE SIX SISTERS OF THE VALLEYS. 
 
 quent of Clirist and liis salvation, are sealed 
 for ever, and tlie martyred body is com- 
 mitted stealtliily to tlie ground, for fear of 
 insults to the dead. Tlie scenes of past 
 ]*oy floated before the minds of the mourn- 
 ers, who felt the sad presage of a disastrous 
 future. But mark ! there is sympathy in 
 nature for human grief. The rude blast 
 which moaned at intervals, and swept over 
 the face of the dead, has become hushed; 
 and a bright symbol of purity and beauty 
 is sent them from heaven. 
 
 The snow falls into the grave. Marie 
 is being gradually entombed. The outlines 
 of a form, under the covering of snow, in- 
 dicates that there reposes a human body. 
 It is unscathed — a contrast to the two 
 bodies which the fire entombed. The 
 snow-flakes fall fast ; the eyes of all are 
 bent on the grave, when the solemn voice 
 of Janavel is heard repeating — 
 
 " ' Though your sins be as scarlet, they 
 shall be as white as snow :' our beloved
 
 THE BURIAL. 391 
 
 sister had waslied lier robes and made tliem 
 white in the blood of the Lamb, before 
 whom her spirit now stands with joy un- 
 speakable and fall of glory." 
 
 White as the light floating from 
 heaven, like the down of an angel's vdiig 
 — softly, silently did the snow fall, nntil 
 it covered the dead. It was a winding- 
 sheet which neither art nor affection conld 
 supply, but God alone. Marie can be 
 seen no more. She is buried ! It Avas 
 Nature's lamentation, and Nature's ftmeral, 
 like herself, sublime, yet beautiful — simple, 
 yet grand. 
 
 END OF VOL. I.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Extract froni the Bull of Fope Linocciit VIIL for the 
 Uxtirimtion of the Waldenses, A.D. 1487. 
 
 The original is in Volume G of the Cambridge 
 Manuscripts, and the translation is from Sir Samuel 
 Morland's History, page 197, to which reference mar 
 be made at the British Museum : — 
 
 "We have heard, and it is come to our know- 
 ledg, not without much displeasure, that certain 
 sons of iniquity, inhabitants of the province of 
 Evreux, followers of that abominable and pernicious 
 sect of malignant men who are called the poor people 
 of Lyons, or the Waldenses, who have long ago 
 endeavoured in Piemont and other neighbouring 
 parts, by the procurement of him who is the sower of 
 evil works, through by-ways purposely sought out, 
 and hidden jDrecipices, to insnare the sheep belongoig 
 unto God, and at last to bring them to the perdition 
 of their souls by dead!}' cunning, are damnably risen 
 Tip under a feigned pretence of holiness, being led 
 into a reprobate sense, and do greatly erre from the
 
 394 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 way of truth ; and following superstitious and here- 
 tical ceremonies do say, act, and commit very many 
 things contrary to the orthodox faith, offensive to the 
 eyes of the Divine majesty, and which do occasion a 
 very great hazard of souls." 
 
 Pope Innocent X. was guilty of an intrigue with 
 his brother's widow, Donna Olympia Maldachini. 
 
 The most remarkable transaction of this Pontifi- 
 cate was his Bull, 31st May, 1G53, condemning the 
 five propositions selected by the Jesuits out of Jan- 
 senius's Augustinus, which ultimately gave rise to 
 the famous question whether the infallibility of the 
 Pope extended to matters of fact, or only to matters 
 of doctrine. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Extraordinary as it appears, this chapter is based 
 on fact; the extracts from Leger and Dr. Muston 
 are given in the Preface. The truthfulness of- this 
 fact is the best apology for its singularity, and must 
 vindicate the author from the charge of making an 
 improbable hypothesis the basis of his story. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The character of Marie is sketched from life. The 
 original was a poor person whom I was in the habit 
 of visiting when at college. She was confined to her 
 bed for twenty-seven years without once leaving her 
 room; nearly all the speeches in Marie's mouth are: 
 real experiences of suffering uttered by this person, 
 as, owing to her blindness I was able to take down 
 her words in pencil at the time of their utterance-
 
 APPENDIX. 395 
 
 This circumstance, as it clotlies tliem with the moral 
 value of ti'ue experiences of Christian suffering, will 
 explain their peculiar style. 
 
 CHAPTER yi. 
 
 The destruction of the Yaudois temples was of 
 frequent occurrence during their great, or desultory- 
 persecutions. The abbey of Pignerol used to retain 
 a body of armed men in its pay, to make incursions 
 into the valleys. — Musiun, vol. i. -p. 277, G'dles 
 History. 
 
 In the month of May, 1636, the Monk Simond 
 assailed some iDcaceable Yaudois, whom he found in 
 the market-place of La Torre, with gi^oss abuse ; and 
 then, holding a gilt crucifix in his hands, he fell on 
 his knees uttering curses against the reformed kings 
 and princes. Evidently he hoped to irritate the 
 by-standers, both by his crucifix, before which he 
 knelt, and by his unseemly language. — 2Ionasttcr^s 
 Hlstorij of tJiG Vaiidois CJinrch, p. 2^9. 
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 The conversation in this chapter is entirely his- 
 torical, see Lcrjcr, part ii., chap, vi., p. 72. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 This scene is founded on fact, see Lerjer, part ii., 
 p. 348. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 The extracts are taken verhatim from the "Wal-
 
 oi)G APPENDIX. 
 
 densian Catechism, and tlie concluding incident from 
 Dr. MiistoUj vol. i., p. 262, who gives a copious list of 
 his various authorities. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 As regards the number of soldiers quartered on 
 the valleys, see Leger, part ii., p. 177, 180. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 I HAVE been an eye-witness of a similar scene on the 
 " Scala Santa." The general description is accurate. 
 
 As regards the Papal Tariff for the remission of 
 sins, the reader may consult Histoire des Souverains 
 Ponti/es, qui ont siege a Avignon, par Joudou, August, 
 1855. I obtained this book at Avignon in May last, 
 although it had been suppressed by the Romish 
 clergy. The following is an extract, page 125, vol. 
 i., with the foot note. One or two quotations are 
 taken from the Flece Justificatii-e, for the edification 
 of the English sceptic, though many of the taxed 
 crimes are such, " that it is a shame even to speak 
 of them." I met with a similar document and tariff 
 when travelling in Spain a few years ago : — 
 
 " Le tresor de la chancellerie avait ete pille par 
 les familiers de Clement Y. ; I'escarcelle pontificale 
 etait vide, il fallait aviser aux moyens de la remplir. 
 En 1819, Jean XXII., pour remedier a cette penurie, 
 ctablit, a son profit, des reserves sur tons les benefices 
 des eglises collegiales de la Chretiente ; il vendit des 
 indulgences et I'absolution de tons les crimes ; il 
 ordonna la levee d'une taxe, par laquelle, moyennant
 
 APPENDIX. 397 
 
 Tin prix determine, les attentats, meme les plus hor- 
 ribles, etaient acquittees,* 
 
 Piece Justificative, No. 1, page 126. Traduction 
 de quelques articles de la taxe de la chancellerie 
 apostolique pour la remission des peches. 
 
 "Si un ecclesiastique commet le peche de la chair, 
 soit avec des nonnes, soit avec ses cousines, ses nieces 
 ou des filleules, soit enfin avec toute autre femme, la 
 coupable sera absous pour la somme de 67 livres 
 12 sous. 
 
 " Les pretres qui voudront obtenir I'autorisation de 
 vivre en concubinage avec leurs parentes paieront 
 7Q livres 1 sou. 
 
 " L'absolution du meurtre simple commis sur un 
 laique est taxee a 15 livres 4 sous 8 deniers ; si 
 I'assassin a tue plusieurs hommes dans la journee, il 
 n'en paiera pas davantage. 
 
 " Pour le meurtre d'un frere, d'une soeur, d'une 
 mere ou d'un pere, on paiera 17 livres 15 sous. 
 
 " Celui qui voudra acheter par avance l'absolution 
 de tout meurtre accidentel qu'il pourrait commettrc a 
 I'avenir, paiera 168 livres 15 sous. 
 
 " Un heretique qui se convertit, paiera pour son 
 absolution 269 livi'es. Le fils d'un heretique brule 
 ou mis a mort par tout autre supplice, ne pourra etro 
 rehabilite qu'en payant a la chancellerie 218 livres 
 16 sous 9 deniers. 
 
 " Un ecclesiastique qui ne pourra pas payer ses 
 
 * Cette constitution de Pape Jean XXII. existe et a eu 
 plusieurs editions ; elle est intitulee : Taxse sacra; cancellaria* 
 apostolica^, et taxse sacrse pa?nitentiarise itidem apostolica'.
 
 398 APPENDIX. 
 
 dettes et qui vondra eviter les poursuites de ses cre- 
 anciers donnera au pape 17 livres 8 sous 6 deniers, et 
 sa creance lui sera remise. 
 
 " La permission de dresser des boutiques de mar- 
 cliands et de vendre diiferentes denrees sous le por- 
 tique d'une eglise sera accordee moyennant 45 livres 
 19 sous 3 deniers. 
 
 " Pour faire la contrebande et frauder les droits 
 du prince on paiera 87 livres 3 deniers. 
 
 " Un moine vertueux qui voudfa passer sa vie 
 dans un ermitage ver sera dans le tresor du pape 45 
 livres 19 sous. 
 
 " Si un homnie veut acquerir par simonie un ou 
 plusieurs benefices, il s'adressera aux tresoriers du 
 pape, qui lui vendront a un prix modere. 
 
 " Celui qui voudra manquer a son serment et etre 
 garanti de toute pour suite et de toute infamie, paiera 
 iiu pape 131 livres 15 sous." 
 
 (Comment on the above is superfluous.) 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 The principal authority for this chapter is Gilles. 
 
 CHAPTER XYIII. 
 
 The edict is given verbatim; the original may be 
 seen in Italian and French in Leger, part ii., p. 92. 
 The translation of the portion in the text is from 
 Sir Samuel Morland, p. 303. 
 
 "Andrew Gastaldo, Doctor of the Civil Law, 
 Master Auditor Ordinary, sitting in the most illus- 
 trious Chamber of Accompts of His Royal Highness 
 and Conservator-general of the holy Faith, for the
 
 APrENOix. 399 
 
 observation of the Orders, publisliecl against the 
 pretended Reformed religion of the valiej of Lucerna 
 and St. Martino, and npon this account particularly 
 deputed bj Eis said Royal Highness. We do com- 
 mand and charge the chief sworn messengers of the 
 Court to give commandment and injunction, even as 
 by these presents we command and enjoyn every 
 head of a family with its members of the pretended 
 Reformed religion, of what rank, degree, or condition 
 soever (none excepted), inhabiting and possessing 
 estates in the places of Lucerna, Lucernetta, S. Gio- 
 vanni, La Torre, etc. 
 
 "Within three days after the publication and 
 execution of these presents, to withdraw and depart, 
 and to be with their families witjidrawn out of the 
 said places, and transported into the places and 
 limits tolerated by His Royal Highness, and by his 
 good pleasure, as, viz., Bobbio, Yillaro, Angrogna, 
 Rorata, and the country of Bonetti under pain of 
 death and confiscation of houses and goods, situated 
 or being out of the said limits. Provided alicays in 
 case tlwy do not mahe it ap2:)ear to ils ivitldn twenty days 
 folloiving that they are become CatholicJis, or that they 
 have sold their goods to the CatholicJiS.^' 
 
 CHAPTER XXIY. 
 KoT one word of .this description is exaggerated, 
 as may be verified by referring to Leger, part ii., 
 chap, viii., p. 94, and Morland, p. 305. The passage 
 is most plaintive and interesting, but too long for 
 quotation ; its details are, however, embodied in the 
 text.
 
 400 APPENDIX. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 For an account of the massacre of the Protestants 
 by the Irish in 1641, see Clarendon's History of the 
 RchclUon, vol. i., book iv., page 237 ; and Hume's 
 History of England, vol. vi., chap. Iv., page 383, the 
 details of which, too horrible to be transcribed, were 
 repeated by the same agents, the Irish, aided by the 
 Piedmontese, in the Italian valley of Lucerna in 
 1655. As regards the part assigned to the Irish in 
 these transactions, independently of the testimony of 
 Newland and Leger, Hume informs us, vol. vii., chap. 
 Ix., page 151 — " The Irish were glad to embrace 
 banishment as a refage. Above forty thousand men 
 passed into foreign service ; and Cromwell, well 
 pleased to free the island from enemies who never 
 could be cordially reconciled to the English, gave 
 them full liberty and leisure for theii^ embarkation." 
 See Clarendon's History of the BchelUon, vol. iii., book 
 xii., page 278. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 As regards the results of Gastaldo's order, and 
 the consequent desolation and pillage, see Leger, 
 part ii., p. 96. The incident of Claude's death is 
 founded on the deaths of Jaqucs Rone, Leger, part 
 ii., p. 126, and Daniel Uamhaut,^ p. 135 ; also see 
 Moi'land, p. 370. 
 
 HAKKILD, PRINTEK, LOM:)0>'.