The Pocket Bible or Christian the Printer Part 30

"It is true. I esteem him greatly."

"Does not, as he expressed it, his pure and n.o.ble love for Hena do honor to any upright man?"

"I firmly believe so after reading the pages which Ernest Rennepont believed he wrote for none but his own eyes."

"Now, my friend, let us suppose he embraces the reformed religion. His knowledge, his good habits and his liking for teaching little children--all that would render him worthy of being a minister of the new church. I feel almost certain our friend would present his name with joy to our brothers for election, and these will acclaim him their pastor. Never could the Evangelical word have a worthier interpreter."

"Oh, Monsieur Estienne, have mercy! Do not cheer my heart with such supreme hopes, destined, perhaps, to be dashed."

"Alas, you have suffered so much, that I can well understand your hesitation to foster a consoling hope. But reflect an instant, and you will admit that the hope is in no wise an exaggerated one. Let us sum up--Ernest Rennepont renounces his Order, embraces the Reformation, is chosen a pastor, and he can then contract marriage. Granting all this, do you not believe your daughter will consent to the union, if you approve of it?"

"She is dying of that fatal love, believing herself separated from Ernest Rennepont by an unbridgeable chasm of impossibilities. She surely would not refuse to wed the man she loves."

"Well, then, my friend, what other obstacles do you see? Do not these expectations, so far from being deceptive, become certainties? Does not the grief of the unfortunate couple change into ineffable bliss? You remain worried, dejected."

"Monsieur Estienne, the project is too beautiful!"

"Christian! How can you, a man of sense and firmness, succ.u.mb to such weakness of spirit!"

"The death of my wife, the lamentable position in which my beloved daughter finds herself, the crime of the wretch whom I can no longer call my son--so many sorrows, heaped one upon the other, have cracked the springs of my soul. I feel myself overwhelmed and nerveless."

"And yet, at no time have you been in greater need of energy. You say, my friend, that the plan is too beautiful? But, should it be realized, do you not still run grave dangers? Do you forget that your freedom and life are both threatened? Do you forget that, at this very hour, they are seeking to track Ernest Rennepont and your daughter? Regain courage with the hope of triumphing over your enemies. We must carry on the struggle without truce or let."

"Thanks, Monsieur Estienne; thanks! Your words comfort me. Yes; nevertheless, the plan you propose and which would s.n.a.t.c.h my daughter from the despair that is killing her--that plan is yet far from being accomplished."

"This is what I shall do. Should the errand embarra.s.s you, I shall myself see Ernest Rennepont, shall propose to him to embrace the Reformation and become a pastor of the new church in order to verify his dream--provided Hena accepts the union. When we shall have made sure of Ernest Rennepont's consent, you shall see your daughter. I do not believe there is any doubt about her answer. The marriage being agreed upon, we must make haste. The disappearance of Hena and the forceful rest.i.tution of your family archives will redouble the zeal of your persecutors. Neither you, your daughter, nor her husband would any longer be safe in the neighborhood of Paris. I have already considered the emergency when this retreat would cease to offer security to you. I have a friend who is a printer in La Roch.e.l.le, a fortified town, rich, industrious, well armed, wholly devoted to the Reformation, and so full of reliance on the power of her munic.i.p.al franchise, her ramparts and the bravery of her numerous inhabitants, as confidently to defy our enemies. You and yours will be there in perfect safety. You can live there on the fruit of your labor. Better than anyone else, I know how skilled a mechanic you are. Finally, if you should have to leave Paris before the return of Odelin--"

"Oh, Monsieur Estienne, I tremble at the thought of that Lefevre on the watch for the lad's return in order to kidnap him! What a blow that would be to me! What a fate have our enemies in store for my poor Odelin!"

"I shall take charge of that. To-morrow I shall see Madam Raimbaud. Her husband has probably notified her when she may expect him home from Italy. If so, and even otherwise, your brother-in-law, the Franc-Taupin, who already has given you so many proofs of his devotion, will be able to aid us in preventing your son from being kidnapped. I greatly rely upon his a.s.sistance."

"May heaven hear you!"

"Travelers from Italy usually enter Paris by the Bastille Gate."

"Yes. Besides, seeing that Master Raimbaud, like most all armorers, resides in the neighborhood of that fortress, it is almost certain he will come by the suburb of St. Antoine. That point is settled."

"If Madam Raimbaud is informed upon the date of her husband's arrival, the Franc-Taupin must be placed on watch along the road from Italy, or near the Bastille. He will then warn your son not to enter the city, and deliver to him a letter from you directing him to meet you in La Roch.e.l.le. I shall take charge of supplying Odelin with the necessary funds for the journey. When in La Roch.e.l.le, near you, he will continue his armorer's trade. And now, Christian, I share your prevision. The times are approaching when, more than ever, there will be work for those whose occupation is the forging of implements of war. Come, courage! Let us reserve ourselves for the struggle."

"How can I express my grat.i.tude to you. You think of everything."

"My friend, for the s.p.a.ce of two generations your family and mine have mutually rendered each other so many services that it is impossible to say on which side the debt lies heavier. Let us not lose an instant's time. Take me to Ernest Rennepont. So soon as I shall know his mind, I shall inform you. You will then propose the marriage to your daughter with the caution that the occasion requires. In her present delicate condition, after all the sufferings she has undergone, care must be taken not to shock her even with joy. Joy may kill, as well as despair."

Christian led Robert Estienne to the apartment of the young monk, and leaving the two alone, impatiently awaited the issue of their interview, whereupon he was to see Hena.

CHAPTER XVIII.

FOR BETTER AND FOR WORSE.

Sister St. Frances-in-the-Tomb, as Hena Lebrenn was christened in religion, occupied in the cottage a chamber contiguous to that of her father. The young girl still wore the nun's garb. The pallor of her visage, framed in the folds of her coif and her long white veil, was hardly distinguishable from the dull whiteness of the linen. Pain and resignation were traced on her features, that emaciation rendered almost transparent. Seated near a window, her hands clasped over her knees, and her large blue eyes raised to heaven, she seemed to contemplate without seeing them the somber clouds which the north wind drove before it with weird moanings. Hena's thoughts turned upon the events of the last three days. Despite her decision to devote herself to a nun's life, as the only means of again seeing her family, to live never again under the same roof with her brother whose pa.s.sion for her inspired the maid with invincible horror, and to bury forever in the chilly shadows of the cloister her fatal love for St. Ernest-Martyr--despite these sentiments, on the night that, her vows being p.r.o.nounced, she was praying in the solitude of the Virgin's chapel, she welcomed her uncle Josephin as a liberator, and never hesitated an instant to flee with him from the convent of the Augustinian sisters. She was ignorant of her mother's fate. The hope of soon, after so cruel a separation, being again in the embrace of the parents she loved so dearly, occupied all her thoughts.

When, upon seeing Christian again, the young girl learned of her mother's death, the persecutions that he himself was the object of, and the presence of Brother St. Ernest-Martyr in the same retreat, her head reeled. Weakened by suffering and bewildered by so many unexpected events, the girl's mind threatened for a moment to go astray. Her native vigor carried, however, the day. She said to herself:

"My duty is clear. I shall stay near my father. I shall endeavor with my tenderness to soften his sorrow for the loss of my mother. He must flee this place. I shall accompany him in his exile. I shall also take my mother's place to my brother Odelin. I shall not endeavor to forget Brother St. Ernest-Martyr. But, while preserving this love sacred in the recesses of my heart, to you, O, my G.o.d, I pray--grant through Your infinite mercy that this love do not kill me--grant to preserve my life for the sake of my father, who stands in need of my care and my affection!"

Such were the reflections of the young girl, when, some hours after his interview with Robert Estienne, she saw Christian enter her chamber. The printer's face reflected suppressed happiness. Tears, sweet tears they now were, flowed from his eyes. Despite his desire not to betray his joy before his daughter, lest he cause her too deep an emotion, he could not withhold pressing her repeatedly to his heart, and covering her face with kisses. Touched by such tender effusion, and struck by the change in her father's appearance, Hena cried:

"G.o.d be praised, father, you bring me good news! Are you no longer pursued? You will no longer have to keep in hiding?"

Christian shook his head, and still holding his daughter in his arms, contemplated her, enraptured. He sat down; placed her on his knees, as a little child is placed; and in a voice that trembled with emotion, said:

"Yes, my dear Hena; yes, my beloved child, I have good news for you--but not what you thought. We are soon to leave this retreat, where our persecutors might discover us, and we shall go far away from here, in order to escape all pursuit."

"And yet, father, your voice trembles with joy. I read happiness on your face."

"The good, the unexpected tidings that I bring--concern you--you alone--"

"Me alone, father?"

"No; not you alone--what is good to you, is it not good to me also?"

Hena looked at her father, surprised. The latter hesitated to say more, fearing the consequences of too sudden a revelation. He paused for a moment and proceeded:

"Do you know, my child, what the pastor of the reformed religion is?"

"I believe he is a minister of the Evangelium; is it not?"

"Yes, the pastors spread the Evangelical word. But, contrary to the Catholic priests, who are condemned to celibacy by the Church, the ministers of the reformed cult are free to contract matrimony, and to fulfil its obligations."

A smile of sadness flitted over Hena's lips. Her father followed her closely with his eyes. He fathomed her secret thoughts.

"The right of its ministers to be husbands and fathers, recognized by the Evangelical church, has induced several Catholic priests to break with Rome and embrace the Reformation."

Dropping her head upon her father's shoulder, Hena wept. Christian drew himself slightly back in order to raise the tear-bedewed visage of his daughter, whom he still kept upon his knees, his arms around her, and his heart beating with hope.

"Hena, no doubt you have been thinking to yourself: 'Alas, Brother St.

Ernest-Martyr is a Catholic priest!'"

"You have guessed my thoughts, dear father. I thought to myself there was nothing for me but to bow before so fatal a state of things. But let us talk about that good news which you seem so anxious to impart to me."

"Very well, dear child--but in order not to have to return again to a matter painful to you, I shall begin by saying that Brother St.

Ernest-Martyr, or rather Ernest Rennepont, which is his real name, withdraws himself from the Catholic Church and embraces the Reformation."

Christian felt Hena trembling convulsively upon his knees. The poor child carried both her hands to her face, whence fresh drops of tears flowed down upon her robe.

"My dear child," resumed the artisan, hardly able to repress his gladness, "there is still another confession which I expect from your frankness. You are saying to yourself, are you not: 'Ernest Rennepont abjured his vows--he is free--he can now choose a wife--if he would only love me!'"