The mountains and the country around were by this time filled with new
tidings that contained representations of the most horrible cruelties,
said to have been practised by the Camisards. Even their best friends
and such as willingly lent them their aid, became displeased, and many
of the rebels themselves ventured not to extenuate the barbarity, which
these had permitted themselves to exercise against catholic priests,
landholders, nay even towards secret protestants. It appeared as if the
weakest party desired, in defying despair to outdo the harshness of
their foes; but this alienated many hearts from them and withheld the
help that otherwise would have been openly lent to them.
A serene summer morning shed its light over the mountains, when Edmond
with hasty steps took his way towards the secret wilds, where there was
neither track nor footpath, and which was only known to him from
representation. He felt as if his wonderful gift of inward sight was
conducting him in the direct way, for he discovered the most secret
directing signs by which the rebels alone could find a clue to the
hiding-places, without straying among the windings of the rocks, or
being stopped by the appearance of unexpected precipices. He left the
fortress of St. Hyppolite on one side and came in a short time after
having climbed steep mountains, into another rocky district, to which
only small stony paths led, and which far around was torn asunder by
spacious crevices and caverns. Here did the Camisards keep their
severely wounded that had been able to escape from the fight; if this
was impossible, they shot them themselves, in order to deliver them
from the cruel ingenuity of the executioner. In these caves, Roland
also concealed his provision of arms and ammunition, if he should have
a superfluity of them, and also a supply of food and wine, likewise
medicines, and that which was necessary for the care of the sick.
Government had already offered a large reward for the discovery of this
important place of refuge, but until now in vain, for only the most
trustworthy among the rebels were acquainted with this district, who
naturally would not betray it and they took care, that only those among
the country-people, whose integrity could be depended upon, should be
admitted. As Edmond went along the narrow way which lay on the right
under a steep mountain, whilst on the left, at the distance of a few
paces, yawned a giddy abyss; he was just reflecting how easily and
safely this pass might be defended, when he suddenly heard a large
figure with a hairy face and wild, savage expression, call out,
requesting to speak with him. Edmond was going to explain to him for
what purpose he had come there, when the hairy figure without replying
took up his gun and was in the act of firing at him, a cracked voice
from behind a projection of the rock, cried out: "For God's sake stop,
brother Mazel!" at the same moment two naked brown arms fell on the
breast of the armed man and dashed the gun on the ground. "He is no
spy, he cannot be such!" exclaimed the half-naked man, "it is the young
Lord of Beauvais."
As Edmond looked round he saw Eustace, the charcoal-burner whom he knew
very well, standing before him.
"How came you to this secret place?" said the invalid, who was taken
care of here.
Edmond now saw several strange faces which gathered round to examine
him with looks of curiosity. The young man experienced a singular
sensation on beholding these ragged, wretched looking figures, and on
finding himself compelled to tell them wherefore he was come, and that
he intended to live among them as a brother, and to fight for their
abused rights. Eustace clapped his hands in the greatest amazement, and
cried out: "I should have sooner expected the day of judgment! you
cannot conceive bow haughty and indignant this noble gentleman was,
when I once attempted to speak and jest with his little lady sister!
Yes, Abraham, that is a sign from God, to strengthen us in our good
cause. If such a gentleman to whom nothing is wanting, to whom God has
plentifully given whatever human wealth can procure, brought up and
learned in their religion, if he should come over to us, and be willing
to undergo the severity of the weather, storms, hunger, nakedness, and
for the sake of God, perhaps, a disgraceful death: what are we then to
do, whom they have plundered, ill used, whose children they have
slaughtered, whose priests they have murdered; indeed these are signs
which precede judgment?" In the same moment he began to scream out a
psalm; but Mazel said: "Cease now, good brother, for we do not at all
know yet, if brother Roland will accept him, he must first be brought
before him; we have lately been several times too much deceived and the
thing may be only a snare this time also, but Roland and Cavalier know
directly what they are about, no one can deceive these."
Edmond looked at him with the utmost contempt and exclaimed: "Conduct
me to the wood, to Lord Roland!"--
"Brother Roland, if you please," replied the stout Mazel, "among us
there are no Lords; God is our Lord.--Stephen! Favart!" Cried he, in a
commanding tone, and out of the cliffs sprang forward a fair-haired
young man, and behind him stole forth another, whom Edmond immediately
recognised for the old huntsman, that he had met about twelve days
before at his father's house. "Conduct the young man to brother
Roland," said Mazel to both of them, and Edmond accompanied them in
silence, still deeper into the solitude of the mountains. Favart
glanced sideways at the new comrade, while they walked on together, at
length he said: "Lately, but for that young lad, things would have
turned out badly enough."
"Who was he?" asked Edmond.
"I do not know," replied the huntsman, "I should like very much to
know who he is; he knew me, although I did not know him. I had
abandoned the brethren for sixteen months, now I am again returned to
them, principally because the young lad said in my ear that I was an
apostate and a traitor to God; now, I know too, how the Lord of
Basville, the Intendant thinks, and all the other godless men. They are
blood-thirsty men."
Young Stephen drew out a little flute and blew upon it a spiritual
song, which sounded pleasingly far through the mountains. "Leave off
that godless blowing," said Favart. "Why godless?" asked Edmond. "It is
only a worldly little pipe," said the squinting huntsman, "all these
things proceed from the wicked enemy, to ensnare our souls and hearts
through sensual pleasure; in simplicity we should think on the Lord and
our lips alone should laud and praise him, but not artificially and
seducingly, for it is not seemly to make jubelee in our sorrow."
"You are too severe," said Stephen, "the birds in the woods praise the
Lord and artificially too, in their way."
"They have no reason, no soul," said Favart, "they are poor beasts,
even if it were the nightingale herself; it is still no praise to the
Lord, they do but call their mates, or brood in their nests, their
godliness is all a lie."
"As you will," said Stephen, at the same time replacing his flute. They
came to a number of trees hewn down, and placed so as to form a sort of
fence, from out of which a voice exclaimed: "Who goes there?" "Zion!"
replied the two guides; and some large birch-trees were pushed
backwards, and made way on the narrow path. They passed through. "Where
is Roland?" demanded they of the sentinels. "Up there," replied the
latter, "under the great Apostle chesnut tree."
"We shall soon be there," said Stephen. They already heard a noise in
the distance, talking, singing, and also clattering of iron; and now,
when they had reached the summit of the wooded mountain plain, Edmond
perceived many men in various groups, all brown and burnt by the sun,
the greatest part of them in ragged doublets; some appeared to be
praying, a few were reading, others were reposing on the grass, several
were whetting their jagged swords or cleaning their guns, others were
mending their vestments; many sang psalms. A tall wild-looking man
advanced towards them, he walked up and down agitatedly with his hands
behind his back, huge whiskers descended on either side of his face,
his hair was tightly drawn up to the top of his head; "Good day
brethren," cried he, in a discordant voice, which Edmond immediately
recognised for the same he had heard in the distance on the eventful
night. "The hero Catinat!" exclaimed Favart, shaking the gigantic man
heartily by the hand, "how fares it with you?" "I am accused brother,"
said the former, "and Roland will hold no intercourse with me until all
his officers, Cavalier and the rest, have spoken respecting me."
"Where is Roland?" enquired Edmond, hastily. "It is he yonder, who sits
with his bared neck under the chesnut tree," said Catinat.
Edmond perceived a man of slight figure and middle age, leaning against
the trunk of the tree, who was looking quietly on the ground and
smoking a short clay tobacco pipe; he had taken off a red silk
neckerchief which lay by his side, and had loosened his waistcoat, so
that his whole breast was laid bare, his head was uncovered, his face
was only shaded by large whiskers. He calmly raised his light brown
eyes, as the three presented themselves before him, and Stephen
explained in a few words Edmond's request. "Indeed!" said Roland, still
continuing to smoke and quickly turning his searching glance from
Edmond; "have a little patience, until I give you my answer, we do
nothing without higher counsel, and I have not been thus blessed. Are
any of our prophets here?" asked he in a loud voice, looking round the
circle.
"No, brother Roland," resounded from all sides; "Be patient, some of
them will shortly be here, for I do not know you, but nothing can be
concealed from them."
Edmond felt hurt, his heart was ready to overflow; he related in a few
words his wonderful transformation and how the spirit had led him into
the mountains; "Yes, I myself, unworthy as I may be," concluded he,
with deep emotion, his narration, "I have been blessed with this
wonderful gift of fore-knowledge."
"Indeed!" said Roland in a drawling tone, while he rather winked than
looked at the youth with his half closed eyes, in which was reflected
either his contempt, or perhaps his envy, the latter was what Edmond
conceived it to indicate. He raised his foot, and knocked the ashes out
of the top of his tobacco pipe; "Go and walk up and down for a short
time, I have some reflections to make; as soon as one of our prophets
arrives, you shall obtain your answer."
Edmond turned away much annoyed, and cast his eyes over the
interminable mountains; to the immense chain of the Cevennes are joined
the blue summits of the Pyrenees, and on the other side were to be seen
craggy cliffs and masses of rocks, which give so striking a feature to
the right bank of the Rhone. What was Edmond's surprise, when among the
fraternity he recognized two noblemen, whom he had formerly met many
times at Nismes, and who had sunk into universal contempt on account of
their frivolity and bad conduct. Cesar and Mark Anthony were merely
what is usually termed in ordinary life boon companions; they had been
finally compelled, in consequence of their debts to make their escape,
and had, apparently, from absolute necessity alone, sought the society
of these religious mountaineers. However much they tried to imitate the
looks and demeanour of the rest, there still lay concealed even in the
very manner that they greeted Edmond, something of that reckless
insolence and licentious freedom, which all well-principled young men
had excluded from their society many years before.
When Edmond had taken a survey of the surrounding country and of his
future companions, Roland again called out in a loud voice, as he stood
up:
"Is no prophet yet arrived?" "Yes," said Favart, "here is brother
Duplant." At the same moment a pale, haggard little man stepped up, who
trembled in every joint as from cold and whose prominent eyes added to
his appearance of illness. "What do you wish brother?" asked he of the
leader in an almost whining tone.
"Come forward brother," said Roland in a full, sonorous voice; "here is
a new brother, who presents, himself to us from out of the valley, a
rich distinguished man and a catholic; what does the spirit say to you
about it?"
Duplant opened his light-blue eyes still wider, gazed on Edmond with a
feeble, death-like look, then gathered himself up, shook his head
violently, fell down, and while his breast and the lower part of his
body heaved convulsively, a deep, and to him, unusual voice proceeded
from him, resounding loudly: "I tell thee brother, this is a choice
instrument, he will serve the Lord faithfully; his father in his heart
is in our mountains, rejoice all that he is come among us. Amen!"
Roland immediately embraced the youth, then extended his hand to him;
"In the name of God then!" said he solemnly, "My vocation must be
true," answered Edmond, "for you have given a reception such as might
well have frightened back an ordinary enthusiast."
"We cannot do otherwise brother," said Roland, "we are too often put to
the test by spies in various forms; therefore, the Lord, decides among
us, He, who cannot be deceived."
"It is good for me to be among you and to look upon the faces of all
these, honoured men: but where is Cavalier, the hero, whose name
resounds throughout the whole country? my soul burns to know him and to
fold him in my arms."
"Yonder he comes with his troop in wonderful array."
A multitude of Camisards, clad in pillaged uniforms, marched up the
mountain shouting with joy, at their head rode their commander, mounted
on a little horse, one feather in his large hat, a richly embroidered
uniform hung wide and loosely on his little thin body. He sprang from
his horse, and while Edmond was making his way up to him, impressed
with the almost ludicrous appearance of the unbecoming attire, the so
justly renowned Cavalier advanced towards him, and Edmond, in terror
and in deep confusion, stepped back, for the young hero was no other
than that miller-lad, whom he had a short time before in his father's
house treated with so much contempt, nay even with cutting bitterness.