THE PASSPORT.
When I reached home it was some hours after sunrise. The dragoons, just
recalled from the Spanish frontier, where they were no longer wanted,
were spreading themselves over the country with the express commission
to harass the Huguenot inhabitants as much as possible, short of death,
but had not yet reached Nismes.
I entered my father's house. Contrary to custom, he was not at the
factory, but awaiting my return. He rose when I appeared, and stood
silently looking at me, while my mother put her hands on my shoulders,
and looked piteously in my face.
"Son, thou hast been out all night."
"At my uncle's, mother. He was ill in bed; the dragoons were there; and
my aunt begged me to stay as a safeguard."
"You did quite right to comply, my boy," said my father, heartily.
"I trust the dragoons did not misuse thy good uncle."
"I know not what you call misusing," replied I, "if beating their
drums round his bed all night did not deserve that term. They almost
killed him with their clamor--ate everything in the house--called for
more--reviled my aunt--scrambled for her money--broke open the cellar,
and drank every drop it contained."
I spoke this so fast as to be almost unintelligible; they listened in
silent dismay. My father, then bidding me be seated, desired me to go
over the whole matter from the beginning, with composure and method.
Having drunk a cup of water, I did so; and we then held a family
council, in which it was decided that my uncle, in his precarious
health, would probably sink under a similar attack of the dragoons,
and that it would be expedient for me to return to him at dusk with a
covered cart, well supplied with hay, and to place him thereon and bring
him back with me, to be kept at our house, in secresy and safety, till
he should be able to escape from the kingdom--"though this would have
been an easier matter to effect," observed my father, "before he had
made himself personally obnoxious to the bishop."
My father then went to his daily business at the silk-factory, while I
remained behind awhile with my mother, to assist her in clearing out a
loft for my uncle's reception, the entrance to which could be concealed.
I then paid a hasty visit to Madeleine, whom I found bathed in tears,
as she had learnt from my mother that I had been away all night; and
though this at another time would have occasioned no alarm, yet at
a season of so much uneasiness she had foreboded some sad calamity.
My sudden appearance caused a fresh flow of tears, but they were of
thankfulness for my safety. A few tender words reassured her. I then
gave her a short account of what had passed, taking care, as my uncle
desired me, not to make things worse than they were. But still it was
evident that he was marked for the victim of a persecution he was not
in a condition to support; and as Madeleine had a sincere regard for
him, which his character justly merited, she commended me for standing
by him, and rejoiced that I was going to fetch him to our house.
"We have not been quite undisturbed, even during your short absence,"
said she. "Our evening service was yesterday interrupted, just as the
congregation were in the middle of a psalm, by several officials rudely
entering the temple, and commanding us to desist, because the Host was
being carried by."
"In the temper in which those in authority seem to be at present," said
I, "it is to be feared that things will grow worse before they mend."
"Meanwhile, remember your father's admonition, I entreat you," said
Madeleine; "and, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men."
"Rely on it, sweet Madeleine," said I. "I am a man of peace, not of war."
Cheered by my little interview with her, I proceeded to my usual work,
and, after supping with my family, stole quietly forth on my mission.
I reached the neighboring town without misadventure, and, leaving the
cart out of sight, raised my uncle's latch and went in. He and my aunt
had the house to themselves (for their only servant had gone to her
friends); and she was sitting on the bed, supporting his head on her
shoulder.
"Here's Jacques," said she, looking up.
"Jacques, my good lad," said my uncle, holding out his feeble hand,
"I thank you for this visit, and yet more for staying with us last
night."
"You have not noticed any of the dragoons lurking about outside,
I hope?" said my aunt, anxiously.
"No," said I, "all seems quiet at present; but there is no knowing
when they will return, and my parents have sent me to fetch you away.
My mother declares she shall know no peace till she has you under her
roof."
"My good boy, I can no more go to her than I can fly," said my uncle.
"Oh yes, uncle, you can. I have brought you a nice covered cart, filled
with hay, on which you will lie quite easily, and I will carry you down
to it on my back."
My uncle and aunt were most thankful for this, and, after very little
preparation, closed the shutters of the little dwelling, and turned the
key on it. My uncle was made tolerably comfortable, with my aunt seated
beside him; and in this way we stealthily quitted the neighborhood.
I could hear uproarious voices in the distance, and occasionally a faint
scream or wail, but gradually left these painful sounds behind. To say
truth, I was by no means sure of our performing this journey in safety,
and had many alarms by the way; and as for my uncle, my aunt afterwards
told me he was in prayer the whole of the way, to which might probably
be ascribed our safety; for ours is a God that heareth prayer, not
when it is a mere babble of words, in a language we do not understand,
repeated over and over again, and made a merit of; but His ears are
attent unto the cry of the contrite heart, and the prayer of them that
are sorrowful.
It was far into the night, or rather near morning, when we reached our
journey's end. My father cautiously admitted us; my mother received the
fugitives with the tenderest affection. A hot supper awaited them, after
partaking which they were thankful to retire to the loft; and not even
the children were to know they were there, and the youngest of our two
servants had been sent to her home; for my father told me that the
dragoons were expected to pay us a visit shortly, when the premises
would doubtless be ransacked; "and since your uncle has borne the
journey better than might have been expected," said he, "the sooner
we can get him out of the country the better."
He then told me what plans he had been devising for this purpose, and
that if my uncle were equal to it on the morrow, I should set him and my
aunt on their way to a certain point, which, if they reached in safety,
they would then be cared for.
"The greatest difficulty," said he, "is about a passport; but that may
possibly be procured on the frontier, for the great object of government
seems to be to chase all our godly ministers out of the kingdom, that
their flocks, deprived of their strengthening exhortations, may fall an
easier prey."
While he thus spoke, a noise at the door, as if some one were hammering
on it with his fist, made us start.
"Who's there?" said my father, without withdrawing the bolt.
"Your neighbor Romilly," returned the other; and we, knowing his voice,
let him in.
"Neighbor, I have traveled far and fast," said he, "and would not go
home without looking in to tell you the bad news. They are carrying
things hardly at Arles and Uséz, and you had better warn M. Chambrun
he is in danger."
My father changed countenance.
"He and his wife are with us at this moment," said he.
"They must depart, then," said Romilly, "and without loss of time, or
she will not be allowed to go with him. See, here is a passport," said
he, dubiously smiling, "which will do for him as well as the person for
whom it was intended. He shall have it."
We thanked him warmly, and after a little more eager talk, he hurried
homeward. Day was now breaking, and I threw myself on my bed for a short
sleep. When I awoke, my dear mother was beside me.
"Your uncle is awake, and talking to your father," said she, softly. "He
refuses the passport, because it was not made out for himself, saying he
will not do an evil that good may come."
"This is sheer madness," said I, springing up.
"It is consistency," said my mother. "We are now on the brink of a great
struggle between the powers of light and darkness. Those who feel they
have no strength of their own to meet it with, and do not care to seek
it from above, will probably give in at the very first word--certainly
do so sooner or later; but those whose adhesion to God's cause is of any
worth, will brace themselves for the encounter, knowing that He can and
will arm them for the fight."
"You approve my uncle's making a point of conscience, then, of this?"
"I must say I do, though your father is angry with him for it. Perhaps,
during the day, we may yet get him a proper passport; for if the
authorities are so anxious to get rid of our godly ministers, surely
they will not hinder their departure. However that may be, you are to
convey your uncle and aunt towards the coast tonight."
"She goes with him, then?"
"She will not leave him. They have lost all their money, but we have
made a little purse for them. Oh, my child, what times are these! You
have scarcely had any rest these two nights; but do not forget to say
your morning prayers."
And kissing my forhead, she left me, that I might obey her injunction.
It may be said that trade was at a standstill that day. The weaver at
his loom, the jeweler behind his counter, the baker at his
kneading-trough, all thought and talked but of one subject, the expected
visitation of the dragoons.
My father, with vexation, gave me back the passport, saying, "Your uncle
will not use it, so you must return it to Romilly."
Romilly raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders when I did so,
saying, "What will he do, then?"
"I know not. Take his chance, I suppose."
"Here, take you it," said he, thrusting it into my pocket "He may be
glad of it at the end."
It was a sad day. Mothers were weeping over their new-born infants; men
were talking to one another in anger and sorrow. The Catholics were
already carrying their heads high, and smiling scornfully as we passed
them. I thought, "Oh that we were in a desert, all to ourselves, with
none to impugn our faith!" But then I called to mind that without
needing to be in a desert, people might dwell in happy countries where
each man's faith is respected and tolerated. I hoped my uncle would
safely reach one of these happy countries; but yet one's native land is
very dear after all!
Twilight came; the parting took place amid tears and embraces and
benedictions; and soon I was driving my good uncle and aunt towards the
coast. We had gone some miles, when a man, scarcely distinguishable in
the dark, emerged from a corner and said, "Who goes there?"
I was greatly alarmed, but my uncle, recognizing the voice, said, "Oh,
Joseph, is it thou? Whither art thou bound?"
"Fleeing for my life," said Joseph, "as I take it you are doing. It is
well you have escaped, though I cannot make out how you come to be so
far on the road. I have just left your neighborhood; the dragoons are
turning your house out of window."
"Give him a lift, Jacques," said my uncle to me; "the poor man is
weary." Finding him to be one of my uncle's flock, I readily did so;
the more that his tone and words betokened honesty.
"Sir, you are doubtless going to join your brother-ministers," said
Joseph. "Have you a passport?"
"I have not, but I hope to get one on the frontier, or find some other
path open to me," said my uncle.
"Let us trust the 'other path' may open, then," said Joseph, "for most
vexatious obstacles are being thrown in the way of our ministers on the
frontier; they are either refused passports altogether, or such as they
are provided with are declared worthless."
"Romilly's passport, then, will be no good," thought I, and I was musing
on the moral advantage to my uncle of his having refused to use it from
the first, when Joseph in alarm cried--
"Hist--I hear some one galloping hard after us. Let us whip on as fast
as we can."
But we had just reached the foot of a heavy ascent, and the pursuer
gained upon us, and presently came up panting.
"Is Minister Chambrun here?" cried he, breathlessly.
"Who are you that ask?" returned I. At the same instant my uncle cried--
"Yes, here I am. What is it?"
"What a dance you have led me!" cried the messenger. "I come from the
commissioner, who sends you a passport, and desires you to go to
Bordeaux as fast as you can."
What a smile broke over my uncle's face!
"Said I not," cried he, joyfully, "that a path would doubtless open for
me? Henceforth, my children, never distrust the Lord."
His course was now altered. Instead of making for the nearest coast,
now within a few miles, on the borders of the Mediterranean, he decided
to proceed with all convenient speed to Montauban, where my aunt had
friends, thence down the Garonne, and so to Bordeaux. I could but set
him on his way and trust his future course to the same good Providence
that had hitherto protected him. My aunt was decided to follow his
fortunes, happen what would.