The Chaplet of Pearls | Page 7

the means of saving many
lives this day.'
Maitre Isaac Gardon, a noted preacher, looked kindly at the boy's fair
face, and said, 'Bless thee, young sir. As thou hast been already a
chosen instrument to save life, so mayest thou be ever after a champion
of the truth.'
'Monsieur le Baron,' interposed Jacques, 'it were best to look to
yourself. I already hear sounds upon the wind.'
'And you, good sir?' said the Baron.
'I will see to him,' said the farmer, grasping him as a sort of property.
'M. le Baron had best keep up the beck. Out on the moor there he may
fly the hawk, and that will best divert suspicion.'
'Farewell, then,' said the Baron, wringing the minister's hand, and
adding, almost to himself, 'Alas! I am weary of these shifts!' and weary
indeed he seemed, for as the ground became so steep that the beck
danced noisily down its channel, he could not keep up the needful
speed, but paused, gasping for breath, with his hand on his side.

'Beranger was off his pony in an instant, assuring Follet that it ought to
be proud to be ridden by his father, and exhaling his own exultant
feelings in caresses to the animal as it gallantly breasted the hill. The
little boy had never been so commended before! He loved his father
exceedingly; but the Baron, while ever just towards him, was grave and
strict to a degree that the ideas even of the sixteenth century regarded
as severe. Little Eustacie with her lovely face, her irrepressible saucy
grace and audacious coaxing, was the only creature to whom he ever
showed much indulgence and tenderness, and even that seemed almost
against his will and conscience. His son was always under rule, often
blamed, and scarcely ever praised; but it was a hardy vigorous nature,
and respectful love throve under the system that would have crushed or
alienated a different disposition. It was not till the party had emerged
from the wood upon a stubble field, where a covey of partridges flew up,
and to Beranger's rapturous delight furnished a victim for Ysonde, that
M. de Ribaumont dismounted from the pony, and walking towards
home, called his son to his side, and asked him how he had learnt the
intentions of the Count and the Chevalier. Beranger explained how
Eustacie had come to warn him, and also told what she had said of
Diane de Ribaumont, who had lately, by her father's request, spent a
few weeks at the chateau with her cousins.
'My son,' said the Baron, 'it is hard to ask of babes caution and secrecy;
but I must know from thee what thy cousin may have heard of our
doings?'
'I cannot tell, father,' replied Beranger; 'we played more than we talked.
Yet, Monsieur, you will not be angry with Eustacie if I tell you what she
said to me to-day?'
'Assuredly not, my son.'
'She said that her father would take her away if he knew what M. le
Baron read, and what he sung.'
'Thou hast done well to tell me, my son. Thinkest thou that this comes
from Diane, or from one of the servants?'

'Oh, from Diane, my father; none of the servants would dare to say
such a thing.'
'It is as I suspected then,' said the Baron. 'That child was sent amongst
us as a spy.' Tell me, Beranger, had she any knowledge of our intended
journey to England?'
'To England! But no, father, I did not even know it was intended. To
England--to that Walwyn which my mother takes such pains to make us
speak rightly. Are we then, going?'
'Listen, my son. Thou hast to-day proved thyself worthy of trust, and
thou shalt hear. My son, ere yet I knew the truth I was a reckless
disobedient youth, and I bore thy mother from her parents in England
without their consent. Since, by Heaven's grace, I have come to a better
mind, we have asked and obtained their forgiveness, and it has long
been their desire to see again their daughter and her son. Moreover,
since the accession of the present Queen, it has been a land where the
light is free to shine forth; and though I verily believe what Maitre
Gardon says, that persecution is a blessed means of grace, yet it is
grievous to expose one's dearest thereto when they are in no state to
count the cost. Therefore would I thither convey you all, and there amid
thy mother's family would we openly abjure the errors in which we
have been nurture. I have already sent to Paris to obtain from the
Queen-mother the necessary permission to take my family to visit thy
grand-father, and it must now be our endeavour to start