Jacques Bonneval Part 4

"At my uncle's, mother. He was ill in bed; the dragoons were there; and my aunt begged me to stay as a safeguard."

"You did quite right to comply, my boy," said my father, heartily.

"I trust the dragoons did not misuse thy good uncle."

"I know not what you call misusing," replied I, "if beating their drums round his bed all night did not deserve that term. They almost killed him with their clamor--ate everything in the house--called for more--reviled my aunt--scrambled for her money--broke open the cellar, and drank every drop it contained."

I spoke this so fast as to be almost unintelligible; they listened in silent dismay. My father, then bidding me be seated, desired me to go over the whole matter from the beginning, with composure and method.

Having drunk a cup of water, I did so; and we then held a family council, in which it was decided that my uncle, in his precarious health, would probably sink under a similar attack of the dragoons, and that it would be expedient for me to return to him at dusk with a covered cart, well supplied with hay, and to place him thereon and bring him back with me, to be kept at our house, in secresy and safety, till he should be able to escape from the kingdom--"though this would have been an easier matter to effect," observed my father, "before he had made himself personally obnoxious to the bishop."

My father then went to his daily business at the silk-factory, while I remained behind awhile with my mother, to a.s.sist her in clearing out a loft for my uncle's reception, the entrance to which could be concealed.

I then paid a hasty visit to Madeleine, whom I found bathed in tears, as she had learnt from my mother that I had been away all night; and though this at another time would have occasioned no alarm, yet at a season of so much uneasiness she had foreboded some sad calamity.

My sudden appearance caused a fresh flow of tears, but they were of thankfulness for my safety. A few tender words rea.s.sured her. I then gave her a short account of what had pa.s.sed, taking care, as my uncle desired me, not to make things worse than they were. But still it was evident that he was marked for the victim of a persecution he was not in a condition to support; and as Madeleine had a sincere regard for him, which his character justly merited, she commended me for standing by him, and rejoiced that I was going to fetch him to our house.

"We have not been quite undisturbed, even during your short absence,"

said she. "Our evening service was yesterday interrupted, just as the congregation were in the middle of a psalm, by several officials rudely entering the temple, and commanding us to desist, because the Host was being carried by."

"In the temper in which those in authority seem to be at present," said I, "it is to be feared that things will grow worse before they mend."

"Meanwhile, remember your father's admonition, I entreat you," said Madeleine; "and, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men."

"Rely on it, sweet Madeleine," said I. "I am a man of peace, not of war."

Cheered by my little interview with her, I proceeded to my usual work, and, after supping with my family, stole quietly forth on my mission.

I reached the neighboring town without misadventure, and, leaving the cart out of sight, raised my uncle's latch and went in. He and my aunt had the house to themselves (for their only servant had gone to her friends); and she was sitting on the bed, supporting his head on her shoulder.

"Here's Jacques," said she, looking up.

"Jacques, my good lad," said my uncle, holding out his feeble hand, "I thank you for this visit, and yet more for staying with us last night."

"You have not noticed any of the dragoons lurking about outside, I hope?" said my aunt, anxiously.

"No," said I, "all seems quiet at present; but there is no knowing when they will return, and my parents have sent me to fetch you away.

My mother declares she shall know no peace till she has you under her roof."

"My good boy, I can no more go to her than I can fly," said my uncle.

"Oh yes, uncle, you can. I have brought you a nice covered cart, filled with hay, on which you will lie quite easily, and I will carry you down to it on my back."

My uncle and aunt were most thankful for this, and, after very little preparation, closed the shutters of the little dwelling, and turned the key on it. My uncle was made tolerably comfortable, with my aunt seated beside him; and in this way we stealthily quitted the neighborhood.

I could hear uproarious voices in the distance, and occasionally a faint scream or wail, but gradually left these painful sounds behind. To say truth, I was by no means sure of our performing this journey in safety, and had many alarms by the way; and as for my uncle, my aunt afterwards told me he was in prayer the whole of the way, to which might probably be ascribed our safety; for ours is a G.o.d that heareth prayer, not when it is a mere babble of words, in a language we do not understand, repeated over and over again, and made a merit of; but His ears are attent unto the cry of the contrite heart, and the prayer of them that are sorrowful.

It was far into the night, or rather near morning, when we reached our journey's end. My father cautiously admitted us; my mother received the fugitives with the tenderest affection. A hot supper awaited them, after partaking which they were thankful to retire to the loft; and not even the children were to know they were there, and the youngest of our two servants had been sent to her home; for my father told me that the dragoons were expected to pay us a visit shortly, when the premises would doubtless be ransacked; "and since your uncle has borne the journey better than might have been expected," said he, "the sooner we can get him out of the country the better."

He then told me what plans he had been devising for this purpose, and that if my uncle were equal to it on the morrow, I should set him and my aunt on their way to a certain point, which, if they reached in safety, they would then be cared for.

"The greatest difficulty," said he, "is about a pa.s.sport; but that may possibly be procured on the frontier, for the great object of government seems to be to chase all our G.o.dly ministers out of the kingdom, that their flocks, deprived of their strengthening exhortations, may fall an easier prey."

While he thus spoke, a noise at the door, as if some one were hammering on it with his fist, made us start.

"Who's there?" said my father, without withdrawing the bolt.

"Your neighbor Romilly," returned the other; and we, knowing his voice, let him in.

"Neighbor, I have traveled far and fast," said he, "and would not go home without looking in to tell you the bad news. They are carrying things hardly at Arles and Usez, and you had better warn M. Chambrun he is in danger."

My father changed countenance.

"He and his wife are with us at this moment," said he.

"They must depart, then," said Romilly, "and without loss of time, or she will not be allowed to go with him. See, here is a pa.s.sport," said he, dubiously smiling, "which will do for him as well as the person for whom it was intended. He shall have it."

We thanked him warmly, and after a little more eager talk, he hurried homeward. Day was now breaking, and I threw myself on my bed for a short sleep. When I awoke, my dear mother was beside me.

"Your uncle is awake, and talking to your father," said she, softly. "He refuses the pa.s.sport, because it was not made out for himself, saying he will not do an evil that good may come."

"This is sheer madness," said I, springing up.

"It is consistency," said my mother. "We are now on the brink of a great struggle between the powers of light and darkness. Those who feel they have no strength of their own to meet it with, and do not care to seek it from above, will probably give in at the very first word--certainly do so sooner or later; but those whose adhesion to G.o.d's cause is of any worth, will brace themselves for the encounter, knowing that He can and will arm them for the fight."

"You approve my uncle's making a point of conscience, then, of this?"

"I must say I do, though your father is angry with him for it. Perhaps, during the day, we may yet get him a proper pa.s.sport; for if the authorities are so anxious to get rid of our G.o.dly ministers, surely they will not hinder their departure. However that may be, you are to convey your uncle and aunt towards the coast tonight."

"She goes with him, then?"

"She will not leave him. They have lost all their money, but we have made a little purse for them. Oh, my child, what times are these! You have scarcely had any rest these two nights; but do not forget to say your morning prayers."

And kissing my forhead, she left me, that I might obey her injunction.

It may be said that trade was at a standstill that day. The weaver at his loom, the jeweler behind his counter, the baker at his kneading-trough, all thought and talked but of one subject, the expected visitation of the dragoons.

My father, with vexation, gave me back the pa.s.sport, saying, "Your uncle will not use it, so you must return it to Romilly."

Romilly raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders when I did so, saying, "What will he do, then?"

"I know not. Take his chance, I suppose."

"Here, take you it," said he, thrusting it into my pocket "He may be glad of it at the end."

It was a sad day. Mothers were weeping over their new-born infants; men were talking to one another in anger and sorrow. The Catholics were already carrying their heads high, and smiling scornfully as we pa.s.sed them. I thought, "Oh that we were in a desert, all to ourselves, with none to impugn our faith!" But then I called to mind that without needing to be in a desert, people might dwell in happy countries where each man's faith is respected and tolerated. I hoped my uncle would safely reach one of these happy countries; but yet one's native land is very dear after all!

Twilight came; the parting took place amid tears and embraces and benedictions; and soon I was driving my good uncle and aunt towards the coast. We had gone some miles, when a man, scarcely distinguishable in the dark, emerged from a corner and said, "Who goes there?"

I was greatly alarmed, but my uncle, recognizing the voice, said, "Oh, Joseph, is it thou? Whither art thou bound?"

"Fleeing for my life," said Joseph, "as I take it you are doing. It is well you have escaped, though I cannot make out how you come to be so far on the road. I have just left your neighborhood; the dragoons are turning your house out of window."