The Long Night | Page 3

were the
compromises of life or the courtesies of the lists.
At any rate, in some such colours as these, framed in such a halo,
Claude Mercier saw the Free City as he walked its narrow streets that
evening, seeking the "Bible and Hand". In some such colours had his
father, bred under Calvin to the ministry, depicted it: and the young
man, half French, half Vaudois, sought nothing better, set nothing
higher, than to form a part of its life, and eventually to contribute to its
fame. Good intentions and honest hopes tumbled over one another in
his brain as he walked. The ardour of a new life, to be begun this day,
possessed him. He saw all things through the pure atmosphere of his

own happy nature: and if it remained to him to discover how Geneva
would stand the test of a closer intimacy, at this moment, the youth
took the city to his heart with no jot of misgiving. To follow in the
steps of Theodore Beza, a Frenchman like himself and gently bred, to
devote himself, in these surroundings to the Bible and the Sword, and
find in them salvation for himself and help for others--this seemed an
end simple and sufficing: the end too, which all men in Geneva
appeared to him to be pursuing that summer evening.
By-and-by a grave citizen, a psalm-book in his hand, directed him to
the inn in the Bourg du Four; a tall house turning the carved ends of
two steep gables to the street. On either side of the porch a long low
casement suggested the comfort that was to be found within; nor was
the pledge unfulfilled. In a trice the student found himself seated at a
shining table before a simple meal and a flagon of cool white wine with
a sprig of green floating on the surface. His companions were two
merchants of Lyons, a vintner of Dijon, and a taciturn, soberly clad
professor. The four elders talked gravely of the late war, of the
prevalence of drunkenness in Zurich, of a sad case of witchcraft at
Basle, and of the state of trade in Lausanne and the Pays de Vaud;
while the student, listening with respect, contrasted the quietude of this
house, looking on the grey evening street, with the bustle and chatter
and buffoonery of the inns at which he had lain on his way from
Chatillon. He was in a mood to appraise at the highest all about him,
from the demure maid who served them to the cloaked burghers who
from time to time passed the window wrapped in meditation. From a
house hard by the sound of the evening psalms came to his ears. There
are moods and places in which to be good seems of the easiest; to err, a
thing well-nigh impossible.
The professor was the first to rise and retire; on which the two
merchants drew up their seats to the table with an air of relief. The
vintner looked after the retreating figure. "Of Lausanne, I should
judge?" he said, with a jerk of the elbow.
"Probably," one of the others answered.
"Is he not of Geneva, then?" our student asked. He had listened with

interest to the professor's talk and between whiles had wondered if it
would be his lot to sit under him.
"No, or he would not be here!" one of the merchants replied, shrugging
his shoulders.
"Why not, sir?"
"Why not?" The merchant fixed the questioner with eyes of surprise.
"Don't you know, young man, that those who live in Geneva may not
frequent Geneva taverns?"
"Indeed?" Mercier answered, somewhat startled. "Is that so?"
"It is very much so," the other returned with something of a sneer.
"And they do not!" quoth the vintner with a faint smile.
"Well, professors do not!" the merchant answered with a grimace. "I
say nothing of others. Let the Venerable Company of Pastors see to it.
It is their business."
At this point the host brought in lights. After closing the shutters he
was in the act of retiring when a door near at hand--on the farther side
of the passage if the sound could be trusted--flew open with a clatter.
Its opening let out a burst of laughter, nor was that the worst: alas,
above the laughter rang an oath--the ribald word of some one who had
caught his foot in the step.
The landlord uttered an exclamation and went out hurriedly, closing the
door behind him. A moment and his voice could be heard, scolding and
persuading in the passage.
"Umph!" the vintner muttered, looking from one to the other with a
humorous eye. "It seems to me that the Venerable Company of Pastors
have not yet expelled the old Adam."
Open flew the door