Part 2 (1/2)
”They have been wors.h.i.+pping G.o.d according to the dictates of their consciences, and were found a.s.sembled together in a house at Meaux, listening to the gospel of the mild and loving Saviour. They have already been put to the torture to compel them to recant and betray their a.s.sociates, but it has not produced the desired effect. In vain their advocate has pleaded their cause. Listen! the judge is about to p.r.o.nounce their sentence.”
Dreadful indeed that was. With blasphemous expressions, which cannot be repeated, the condemned were sentenced to be carried back to Meaux; fourteen, after being again put to the torture, were to be burnt alive in the market-place; most of the others were to be hung up by their shoulders during the execution of their brethren, and then to be flogged and imprisoned for life in a monastery, while the remainder were to receive somewhat less severe, though still grievous punishment.
The hardy young Scot almost turned sick with horror and indignation as he heard the sentence; and putting his hand to his sword, he was about to cry out and demand, in the name of justice, that instead of being punished, the prisoners should be released, when his companion grasped him by the arm, whispering, ”Be calm, my friend; such events are so common in France, that we have grown accustomed to them. Hundreds have already died as these men are about to die; and we, their countrymen, have been compelled to look on without daring to raise our voices in their cause, or, as you are inclined to do, to draw a sword for their defence.”
Maitre Leroux, after exchanging a few sentences in an undertone with three or four people they met, whose sad countenances showed the interest they took in the condemned, led his young friend from the so-called hall of justice. On their way they looked into the magnificent church of Notre Dame. Priests in gorgeous dresses were chanting ma.s.s; music was pealing through the building, and incense was ascending to the roof.
”Impious mockery,” muttered Nigel. ”Well may Calvin and John Knox desire the overthrow of such a system, and desire to supplant it by the true faith of the Gospel.”
”Hus.h.!.+ hus.h.!.+ my young friend,” whispered Maitre Leroux, hurrying him out of the church, regretting that he had entered it. ”Though many may think as you do, it's dangerous to utter such opinions in this place.”
”Can nothing be done to save these poor men?” asked Nigel. ”Surely the king cannot desire the destruction of his subjects?”
”The king, like Gallio, cares for none of these things. He is taught to believe that the priests are the best supporters of his crown: and, at all events, he knows that they allow him full licence in the indulgence of his pleasures, which the Protestants, he supposes, would be less inclined to do.”
”I would that I were out of this city of Paris, and away from France itself,” said Nigel.
”Many think and feel as you do, and are acting upon it,” answered the steward. ”Already many thousand men of science and clever artisans have left, to carry their knowledge and industry to other lands; and others, in all directions, are preparing to follow. You will hear more about the matter when you visit the admiral, and my good master, who does not look unmoved on such proceedings. More on the subject it would not become me to say. Not long ago an edict was issued, by which all the old laws on heresy were revived, it being the resolution of the king to purge and clear the country of all those who are deemed heretics.
Magistrates are ordered to search unceasingly for them, and to make domiciliary visits in quest of forbidden books, while the informer is to obtain one-third of the heretic's confiscated property. Should a person be acquitted of heresy in any ordinary court of justice, he may be again tried before an ecclesiastical tribunal, thus depriving him of all chances of escape. Even interference on behalf of a heretic is made penal, and should a person be suspected, he must exhibit a certificate of orthodoxy, or run the risk of being condemned. You see, therefore, young sir, that I am right in recommending caution as to what you say; not that these edicts have the effect expected, for Calvinism increases rapidly, and the stream of emigration continues from all parts of the kingdom.”
They walked on in silence, Nigel meditating on what he had heard.
”Some fresh air will do you good after the scenes we have witnessed,”
observed Maitre Leroux. ”We will take a turn in the Pre-aux-Clercs. It is but a short distance past the Invalides.”
It was evening, and a number of people were thronging that pleasant meadow on the banks of the Seine, the Hyde Park of that period. A party of young men coming by struck up one of the hymns of Marot, a translation of one of the psalms of David, written some years before by the Protestant poet. Others joined in, and evidently sang them heartily; several other parties, as they pa.s.sed along, were indulging in the same melodies.
”How is it, after what you have told me, that the people venture to sing these hymns?” asked Nigel. ”I know them well, for they have already been introduced into our Protestant congregations in Scotland.”
”They became the favourites of the king and court before they had the significance they now possess,” answered the steward; ”and it is only thus that many who hate the papal system can give expression to their sentiments. Before long, however, I fear that they will be prohibited, or those who sing them will be marked as suspected. Alas, alas! our lovely France will be deprived of all freedom of thought, opinion, and action.”
The worthy Maitre Leroux seemed greatly out of spirits as they took their way back to the inn. They parted at the door, for Nigel felt no inclination to go forth again, and the steward had business, he said, to attend to. He promised to call for Nigel at an early hour the next morning to set out for Meaux, undertaking to direct Jacques Cochut to have his horses in readiness.
CHAPTER THREE.
THE VISIT TO THE ADMIRAL.
Maitre Leroux did not call at as early an hour as Nigel expected. His own horse and attendant had been at the door for some time before the steward made his appearance. He had an ample apology to offer, having been employed in an important matter till late at night.
”Come,” he said, ”we will make up for it. The lateness of the hour matters not, for, with your permission, we will halt on the road, so as to arrive early at the chateau to-morrow.”
They set out, followed by their two attendants. After leaving the gates of Paris they continued some distance along the banks of the Marne. The road was rough in places, and often deep in dust; full of holes and ruts in others, which made it necessary for the riders to hold a tight rein on their steeds, and prevented them generally from going out of a walk.
Maitre Leroux carried a brace of huge pistols in his holsters, while Nigel had a sword and a light arquebus, both their attendants being also armed; so that they were well able to defend themselves against any small party of marauders such as infested the roads in the neighbourhood of the capital.
”We must make but a short stage to-day,” said Maitre Leroux. ”In truth, I am unwilling to travel late in the evening, and prefer stopping at the house of a friend to taking up our quarters at an inn where we might meet with undesirable companions.”
”But I shall be intruding on your friend,” said Nigel.
”Pardon me; you will, on the contrary, be heartily welcomed. I am very sure of your principles, and they agree with those of our host and his family, so you need not be under the restraint which would be necessary were we to sleep at a public inn.”