Villegagnon | Page 9

minds of those present. He
now knew that his host was one of the many Protestants existing in the
country who ventured thus in secret to worship God according to their
consciences, even though running the risk of being condemned to death
as heretics.
After the guests had retired, the family spent some time in singing
Marot's hymns.
"Ah!" said the host, "it is only in praising God and reading His blessed
words that we can take any pleasure. It is our consolation and delight,
and enables us without complaining to endure the sad condition to
which bigotry and tyranny have reduced our unhappy country. The only
prospect now before us is exile, or imprisonment and death."
Nigel answered without hesitation that he felt much satisfaction in
again having the opportunity of worshipping, as he had been
accustomed to do at home, according to his conscience, and hearing the
Bible read and faithfully explained.
His host wishing him and his companion a friendly farewell, and

expressing a hope that he should see him again, they took their
departure at an early hour the next morning.
They had proceeded some distance when they entered a forest, through
the centre of which the high road passed. They had been pushing on
rather faster than usual, Maitre Leroux being anxious to get through it
as soon as possible, when they saw before them a body of soldiers. As
they got nearer they found that they were escorting a number of
prisoners seated in rough country carts, into which they were fastened
with heavy chains.
"Who are these unhappy people?" inquired Nigel.
"The same we saw condemned in Paris," answered Maitre Leroux with
a sigh. "If we do not wish to share their fate we must exhibit no
sympathy for them, as the wretches who have them in charge would
rejoice to add to their number. As it will be impossible to pass them at
present, we will drop slowly behind."
"Would that I had a band of Protestant Scots with me, we would soon
set them at liberty!" exclaimed Nigel.
"Hush, hush! my friend," whispered the steward; "it becomes us not to
fight with carnal weapons; such is Dr Calvin's advice."
Just at that moment a voice exclaimed, "Brethren, remember Him who
is in heaven above!"
Some of the rear-guard immediately turned round, and with drawn
swords dashed furiously towards Nigel and Maitre Leroux, believing,
evidently, that one of them had uttered the exclamation they had heard.
They both drew up, for flight would have been useless, when, just as
the troopers had got some fifty yards from them, a man advanced from
among the trees and repeated the words in a loud tone. He was instantly
seized by the soldiers, and being dragged back along them, was thrown
into one of the carts among the other prisoners. His appearance
probably saved the lives of Nigel and his companion, for the doughty
Scot had drawn his sword, and would have fought desperately before

he would have yielded himself a prisoner.
"Pull in your rein, I entreat you," said the steward; "we must not turn
round, and the sooner we let these people get to a distance from us, the
better."
Nigel, seeing that it would be hopeless to attempt assisting the
unfortunate man, did as his companion advised, and they accordingly
waited till the troopers were out of sight, taking good care not again to
overtake them. Their progress was thus considerably delayed, and not
till they came to a road passing outside the town of Meaux did they
again venture to push forward.
They managed before sunset to reach the Chateau de Tourville, a high
conical-roofed pile, with numerous towers and a handsome gateway.
Maitre Leroux, conducting Nigel to a waiting-room near the entrance,
went at once to the count, taking his letter of introduction. Nigel had
not been left long alone when the steward returned with the request that
he would accompany him to the hall, where, he told him, he would find
the count and admiral with several other persons. Nigel, not being
troubled by bashfulness, quickly followed his guide.
The count, who was of middle age and handsome, courteously rose
from his seat at the top of the table to welcome him. At the right hand
of the count Nigel observed a person of middle height, ruddy
complexion, and well-proportioned figure, with a calm and pleasant, if
not decidedly handsome countenance. On the other side sat a tall man,
whose sunburnt features, though regular, wore an expression which at
the first glance gave Nigel the feeling that he was not a person in whom
he would place implicit confidence, though directly afterwards, as he
again looked at him, his manner seemed so frank and easy, that the
impression vanished. Several other