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 passion 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 pronounced, 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 God, 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:
"God 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!'"
"Father, good father, let us drop such thoughts!"
"Oh, my beloved child!" cried the artisan radiant with joy. "Oh, my only
support, my only consolation! Courage! Courage! Not now any more in
order to resist sorrow--but to defend you--from the transports that an
unexpected happiness often causes us--"
"An unexpected happiness, father?"
"Yes, the gladsome tidings that I bring to you are--first, Ernest
Rennepont's resolution to become a pastor of the Evangelical church.
Thus he is free to marry, without discontinuing his services to God.
Yes, and do you know, Hena, that if the most cherished wish of his heart
is verified, do you know, Hena, who would be the wife of his choice? It
would be--it would be you--you, my treasure! Ernest Rennepont loves you
to distraction since the day he first saw you at Mary La Catelle's."
Despite the precautions taken by her father, Hena could not resist the
shock of the revelation. Still holding his daughter upon his knees,
Christian saw her lose color, her head dropped upon his shoulder, she
lost consciousness. He rose, carried the girl to her bed, at the head of
which he knelt down, and awaited the end of the crisis that the excess
of joy had brought on. A moment later he heard a rap at the door. He
asked:
"Is it you, Monsieur Estienne?"
"Yes--and I am not alone."
"Do not come in now," answered Christian. "Hena is in a swoon. I fear
that in recovering consciousness the sight of her betrothed might cause
an immediate relapse."
Certain motions of Hena, and the light flush that by degrees returned to
her cheeks, announced the girl's gradual recovery. Her eyes remained
half shut. She turned her haggard face towards her father. Presently,
fixing upon him her still partly veiled eyes, she seemed to interrogate
her confused recollections.
"No, my dear child," said the artisan; "it is not a dream. You are not
the sport of an illusion. Ernest Rennepont renounces the monastic life;
he embraces the Evangelical creed, of which he will be a pastor. He has
long loved you with the purest and noblest love. I surprised the secret
of his soul. Never did father wish for his daughter a husband more
worthy of esteem and affection." And pointing with his finger to the
door: "He is there, accompanied by our friend, Monsieur Estienne. Do you
feel yourself strong enough to receive them, my poor, dear child? Would
you like to have them come in?"
"He loves me!" cried Hena, taking her father's hands and kissing them.
"He loves me, also! Since when?"
"Yes, yes--he will tell you all that himself," answered Christian with a
smile of ineffable happiness. "He is there. He awaits but your consent
to come to you, my dear child."
Hena sat up on her couch, placed one of her hands on her heart to
restrain its throbs and still too much moved to speak, made to her
father an affirmative sign. The artisan thereupon introduced Robert
Estienne, supporting on his arm Ernest Rennepont. At that moment the
sound of a horse's hoofs was heard from the yard. Yielding to an
involuntary sense of uneasiness, Christian ran to the window, and was at
once put at ease at seeing his brother-in-law the Franc-Taupin alighting
from his mount. Hena and Ernest Rennepont, strangers to what went on
around them, saw but each other. When the young man was near enough to
the couch on which Hena was seated, he dropped on his knees before her,
clasped his hands, and raised up to her his pale visage, now radiant
with celestial bliss. Unable to utter a word, the two contemplated each
other, absorbed. Robert Estienne could not hold back the tears that
gathered in his eyes. The artisan stepped towards the two lovers, took
Hena's hand, placed it in Ernest Rennepont's, who had remained on his
knees, and said in a voice broken with emotion:
"Be betrothed--never have nobler hearts been worthier of each other."
Christian was pronouncing these solemn words when the Franc-Taupin
entered. Already informed by his brother-in-law of the mutual love of
the two young folks, the soldier of adventure thrilled with joy at
seeing them united.
"Know the rest, my friend," said the artisan to Josephin. "My daughter
and he who from this day is my son owe their liberty to you. You are
entitled to know all that concerns them. Ernest Rennepont renounces his
monastic vows; he abjures Catholicism and embraces the Reformation, of
which he is to be a pastor. As you know, the Evangelical pastors can
marry."
"It is my advice that the marriage be promptly concluded," answered the
Franc-Taupin in a low voice as he led Christian and Robert Estienne to
the window, while the betrothed couple remained under the spell of a
profound ecstasy, hearing nothing, seeing nothing of what happened
around them. The Franc-Taupin proceeded in a low voice: "I have come
from Paris in a hurry. I heard an announcement made to the sound of
trumps, to the effect that Sister St. Frances-in-the-Tomb and Brother
St. Ernest-Martyr are adjudged relapsed, and subject to the punishment
visited upon such a sin--the stake!"
"The stake!" muttered Robert Estienne, shivering with horror, while
making an instant sign intended to check an exclamation of terror that
Christian was on the point of giving vent to.
"Time presses," proceeded the Franc-Taupin. "My brother-in-law, his
daughter and the young monk must leave this house this very night. It
will not be safe to-morrow."
"I am of your opinion," answered Robert Estienne. "This is the way we
shall proceed: You, Josephin, will return to Paris on the spot with a
letter from me to one of our pastors, urging him to come here this very
evening in order to take the abjuration of Ernest Rennepont, and give
his nuptial benediction to the betrothed couple. Immediately after, Hena
and her husband will set out, with you, and Christian, who will take my
horse. His daughter will ride on the crupper."
"The young monk shall ride behind me on my nag," said the Franc-Taupin.
"I shall escort the fugitives to a distance of five or six leagues from
Paris."
"When you come back here bring with you lay clothes for the young
couple," said Robert Estienne, handing his purse to the Franc-Taupin.
"You will also pay the price of your nag to the stableman from whom you
have the animal. Ernest Rennepont shall keep it, and ride on it with
Christian and his daughter to La Rochelle. Only there will they all
three be safe. There is not an instant to lose. Quick, to horse,
Josephin, to horse! The lives of us all are at stake."
The Franc-Taupin left hurriedly, casting a tender look upon Hena and
Ernest Rennepont. The two, their hearts in heaven, remained ignorant of
the new dangers that threatened them. The eyes of the Society of Jesus
were open.
* * * * *
Midnight soon arrived. Robert Estienne, Christian, his daughter, Ernest
Rennepont and the Franc-Taupin assembled in the parlor of the country
house, the unsafe refuge that they were soon to quit. An old man, with
long white hair, the pastor of the Evangelical church, responded to the
call of Robert Estienne, in order to receive the abjuration of the
betrothed couple and bestow upon them his nuptial benediction. A table
with a few wax candles stood at the rear of the apartment. On the table
were also an ink-horn, pens, paper, and a little pocket Bible with
silver clasps. Hena and Ernest Rennepont were in front of the table.
Behind it stood the pastor. Robert Estienne, Christian and the
Franc-Taupin assisted the betrothed couple. The agitation caused by so
many unexpected events, and the intoxication of repressed happiness
animated the recently pallid countenances of the bride and bridegroom.
Wrapped in meditation, and their thoughts turning to the past, they
raised their souls to God in a transport of speechless gratitude. They
implored the mercy of their Creator. There was nothing terrestrial in
their love. They saw in the consecration of their marriage only the
right to devote themselves to each other, to vie in mutual sacrifices
and abnegation, and to serve the holy cause of progress. They knew the
perils that the apostles of the new doctrine must confront.
Taking from the table a sheet of paper, the pastor read in a solemn
voice the following act of abjuration:
"'On this 19th day of December, 1534, appeared before us Ernest
Rennepont, called in his religion Brother St. Ernest-Martyr, and Louise
Hena Lebrenn, called in her religion Sister St. Frances-in-the-Tomb, who
declare they desire to renounce the Roman idolatry, and swear to confess
the Evangelical religion, to live and die in the faith, and to
participate in the holy sacrament of communion. Upon these conditions
Louise Hena Lebrenn and Ernest Rennepont have been informed that they
will be admitted to the Evangelical church'[37]--Be pleased to sign the
act of abjuration."
Hena and Ernest signed the act with steady hands. Thereupon they knelt
down upon two seats brought in by Christian and the Franc-Taupin. The
pastor resumed, and addressed the couple with a moved voice:
"You, Hena Lebrenn, and you, Ernest Rennepont, will you live together in
the marriage state that God himself has instituted, and which St. Paul
represents as among the most honorable of conditions? If that is your
intention, Hena Lebrenn and Ernest Rennepont, make your will known. Are
you willing to be united to each other?"
"Yes," answered Ernest, raising his eyes as if to take heaven for his
witness.
"Yes," answered Hena in her turn.
"Then," resumed the pastor, "may the Lord deign to bless your wishes.
You, Ernest Rennepont, do you declare, here before God, that you have
taken and do hereby take Hena Lebrenn, here present, for your wife? Do
you promise to live holily with her, to be true to her, as is the duty
of a good and faithful husband, and God commands you by His word?"
"Yes!" answered Ernest Rennepont.
"And you, Hena Lebrenn, do you declare here before God, that you have
taken and do hereby take Ernest Rennepont, here present, for your
husband? Do you promise to love him, to live holily with him, and to
keep your troth to him as is the duty of a faithful wife, and as God
commands you by His word?"
"Yes," answered Hena, with her eyes modestly cast down.
"Keep your promises to each other," said the pastor in conclusion.
"Seeing God has united you in the sacred bonds of matrimony, live
together in peace, in unity, in purity, helpful to each other, and
faithful to your pledge, obedient to the divine command. Oh, Lord God!
Lord of wisdom and of goodness!" added the Evangelical pastor, joining
his venerable hands in prayer, "since it has pleased Thee to call this
man and this woman to the holy state of matrimony--should it be Thy will
that children be born to them, cause them, as worthy husband and wife,
to raise their offspring in piety and to train them to virtue."[38]
The touching solemnity of the ceremony was suddenly interrupted by the
precipitate entrance of Michael, the gardener. Pale and distracted he
rushed to the house and threw the door open, crying:
"Monsieur Estienne--malediction upon me! You are betrayed!"
A moment of silent stupor ensued upon these words. Hena threw herself
instinctively into her father's arms. Ernest Rennepont approached her.
The Franc-Taupin dashed to the window and listened in the direction of
the yard, while the pastor raised his eyes heavenward, saying:
"Oh, Lord, if Thou reservest me for martyrdom, the victim is ready, may
Thy will be done!"
"We are betrayed, Michael?" cried Robert Estienne. "Who could have
betrayed us?"
"My wife--Oh, that accursed confession! Alison revealed to our curate
that a monk and a nun were here in hiding. My wife has just admitted it
to me amid tears. The curate departed post haste to Paris, immediately
after confessing and extracting the secret from her. Death and a curse
upon the infamous wretch!"
And throwing himself at the feet of Robert Estienne, Michael cried with
clasped hands:
"My good and worthy master! Do not take me for a wicked or dishonorable
man. I am not guilty of the treason!"
"To horse!" bellowed the Franc-Taupin. "We must depart at once! The
curate will have notified his bishop, the bishop will have notified
Cardinal Duprat, and he will have issued orders to the Criminal
Lieutenant. By this time the archers must be on the road to St. Ouen.
Let us lose not an instant--to horse! Mine is saddled--have yours
saddled, Monsieur Estienne. Christian will take his daughter on the
crupper of his horse. I shall take Ernest Rennepont on my nag--and, away
at a gallop! We shall soon be out of reach."
Putting the word to the deed, the Franc-Taupin dashed out of the parlor,
dragging Ernest Rennepont with him almost against his will. Realizing
the wisdom of the Franc-Taupin's orders, Christian put one arm around
Hena, sustained and led her in the steps of the Franc-Taupin. Robert
Estienne and the pastor hastened to follow them, while the despairing
gardener lamented his fate, repeating:
"That accursed confession! The infamous curate!"
The Franc-Taupin was hurrying his horse out of the stable and Robert
Estienne was precipitately saddling his own with the help of Michael,
when Alison, running in all in a flurry from the bypath that led to the
outer gate of the cottage, cried:
"Oh, my poor man, all is lost! The mounted archers are here! I heard the
tramp of their horses down the avenue. I saw their muskets glistening
through the hedges along the road."
"Is the iron gate locked?" asked the Franc-Taupin, the only one to
preserve coolness in the presence of the imminent danger. "Is the gate
strong?"
"It is strong and locked--double locked," answered the gardener. "The
key is in my house."
"It will take them some time to force the gate," observed the
Franc-Taupin; and addressing Robert Estienne: "Is there any issue,
besides the gate, to leave the place?"
"None other--the garden is enclosed by a wall."
"Is the wall high?"
"About ten feet."
"Then," replied the Franc-Taupin, "we need not despair."
At that moment the clank of sabres and muskets was heard down the
principal avenue, and a voice called out:
"Open! In the name of the King, open!"
"There are the archers!" cried Hena stricken with terror. "It is done
for us!"
"I shall deliver myself up!" cried Ernest Rennepont, rushing out towards
the alley. "The archers may thereby be induced not to push their search
any further. May the all-powerful God protect you!"
The Franc-Taupin seized Hena's bridegroom by the sleeve of his coat, and
prevented him from taking another step. Turning to the gardener, he
asked:
"Have you a ladder?"
"Yes, sir."
"Fetch it quick."
Michael obeyed, while the archers redoubled their clamor and threatened
to force the gate if it was not opened.
"Monsieur Estienne," said the Franc-Taupin, "go forward quickly and
speak with the archers. Ask them what brings them here, at this hour.
Engage them in conversation all you can. Keep them outside. Gain time. I
take charge of the rest. If you can succeed in keeping the soldiers off
for about ten minutes, we shall have won. They will find no one else at
the house."
Robert Estienne turned to Christian, who still held Hena in his arms:
"Come, Christian! Courage! Coolness! The situation is hedged in with
dangers; but it is not forlorn." Saying this he walked to the iron gate,
at the moment when the gardener reappeared carrying a long ladder on his
shoulder.
"What is there outside of the garden," asked the Franc-Taupin, "a
highroad or fields?"
"Fields, sir; they are separated from the walls by a path and hedges.
Beyond are meadows, as far as the eye extends."
Josephin listened a moment, and noticing that the clamor of the archers
at the gate had subsided, he said:
"Courage! All's well! Monsieur Estienne is parleying with the soldiers.
We shall have time to flee." And addressing the gardener: "Lead us
quickly to the furthest end of the garden."
Michael led the fugitives along a narrow path. After having walked about
three hundred paces, he stepped before a wall, against which he placed
the ladder.
"Quick!" ordered the Franc-Taupin, again stopping to listen. "The
archers are becoming impatient. They are about to force the gate."
Christian was the first to ascend the ladder; he climbed to the top of
the wall, straddled it, and, stooping down, reached his hand out to
Hena. He took firm hold of her, raised her, and seated her, still
holding her in his arms, in front of him on the top of the wall, where
he was successively joined by Ernest Rennepont and the Franc-Taupin. The
latter drew the ladder up, with the help of the gardener, tipped it over
to the other side, and quickly planted it outside the wall. One by one
the fugitives descended and alighted upon a path bordered by thick and
high hedges.
"We are saved!" cried Christian, passionately clasping Hena to his
heart. "We are saved, my dear child!"
"Not yet!" came thundering upon their ears.
An archer rose from behind the hedge where he had been lying in ambush.
Immediately he sounded the alarm at the top of his voice:
"Here, comrades! Here! This way!"
To leap over the hedge at a bound; to seize the archer by the throat
with one hand, while with the other he drew his sword--these were the
rapid moves of the Franc-Taupin. It was too late. The alarm given by the
soldier was heard. Several other foot soldiers, who came on the cruppers
of the mounted archers, and were posted around the walls, hurried to the
spot, preceded by a sergeant, and all cried in chorus:
"Kill all who resist! Keep only the monk and the nun alive!"
A melee ensued in the semi-darkness of the night. After superhuman
efforts to tear his daughter from the soldiers, Christian was hewed down
with a sword. Ernest Rennepont and Hena remained in the hands of the
armed men. After almost strangling the soldier who had given the alarm,
the Franc-Taupin profited by the darkness to creep on hands and feet to
a hedge under which he blotted himself from sight. From his hiding place
he heard Christian drop to the ground and call out in a fainting voice:
"I am killed--help! help!"
The artisan was left for dead by the archers. Obedient to the orders
from their chief, their main object was the capture of the monk and the
nun, whom they now carried safely away. Little by little silence
returned to the sequestered region. Soon the sound of a retreating troop
of horsemen announced the departure of the archers for Paris. The
Franc-Taupin emerged from his place of concealment, ran to Christian,
knelt beside him, opened his coat and shirt soaked in blood, and placed
his hand upon his heart. He felt it beat.
"There is but one chance of safety for Christian," said the Franc-Taupin
to himself. "If the gardener has not been arrested, he will consent to
grant asylum to the wounded man. Let me endeavor to snatch my
brother-in-law from death--after that, I swear, you shall be avenged,
Oh, my sister! Avenged shall be also your daughter, whose horrid fate I
well foresee!"
Michael and his wife consented to take in the wounded man, and nurse him
in Robert Estienne's house. The latter and the pastor were taken
prisoners to Paris by the archers.