Citation
St. Bartholomew's Eve

Material Information

Title:
St. Bartholomew's Eve a tale of the Huguenot wars
Creator:
Henty, G. A ( George Alfred ), 1832-1902
Blackie & Son ( publisher )
Place of Publication:
London ;
Glasgow ;
Edinburgh ;
Publisher:
Blackie & Son
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
384, 32 p., [13] leaves of plates : ill., col. map (folded) ; 19 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Youth -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Huguenots -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Battles -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Rescues -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Adventure and adventurers -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Escapes -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Christian life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Saint Bartholomew's Day, Massacre of, France, 1572 -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
History -- Juvenile fiction -- France -- Wars of the Huguenots, 1562-1598 ( lcsh )
Publishers' catalogues -- 1894 ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1894
Genre:
Publishers' catalogues ( rbgenr )
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
England -- London
Scotland -- Glasgow
Scotland -- Edinburgh
Ireland -- Dublin
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Publisher's catalogue follows text.
Statement of Responsibility:
by G.A. Henty ; with twelve illustrations by H.J. Draper and map of France.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
002391787 ( ALEPH )
ALZ6681 ( NOTIS )
10893057 ( OCLC )

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The Baldwin Library

University
Br
Til Florida







PHILIP GETS HIS FIRST LOOK AT PIERRE,



St. BARTHOLOMEWS EVE:

A TALE OF

THE HUGUENOT WARS.

BY

G. A. HENTY,

Author of “ Beric the Briton;” ‘In Freedom’s Cause;” ‘‘ The Dash for Khartoum;”
“By England’s Aid;” “In the Reign of Terror;” &c.

WITH TWELVE ILLUSTRATIONS BY H, J. DRAPER,
AND MAP OF FRANCE.



LONDON:
BLACKIE & SON, Limrrep, 49 OLD BAILEY, E.C.
GLASGOW, EDINBURGH, AND DUBLIN.
1894.



PREFACE.

My prEAR Laps,

It is difficult in these days of religious toleration to
understand why men should, three centuries ago, have flown at
each others’ throats in the name of the Almighty; still less, how
in cold blood they could have perpetrated hideous massacres
of men, women, and children. The Huguenot wars were, how-
ever, as much political as religious. Philip of Spain, at that
time the most powerful potentate of Europe, desired to add
France to the countries where his influence was all-powerful,
and in the ambitious house of Guise he found ready instru-
ments. For a time the new faith that had spread with such
rapidity in Germany, England, and Holland, made great pro-
eress in France also. But here the reigning family remained
Catholic, and the vigorous measures they adopted to check the
growing tide drove those of the new religion to take up arms
in self-defence. Although under the circumstances the Pro-
testants can hardly be blamed for so doing, there can be little
doubt that the first Huguenot war, though the revolt was
successful, was the means of France remaining a Catholic
country. It gave colour to the assertions of the Guises and
their friends that the movement was a political one, and that
the Protestants intended to grasp all power and to overthrow
the throne of France. It also afforded an excuse for the cruel
persecutions which followed, and rallied to the Catholic cause
numbers of those who were at heart indifferent to the question
of religion, but were Royalists rather than Catholics.



vi PREFACE,

The great organization of the Church of Rome laboured
among all classes for the destruction of the growing heresy.
Every pulpit in France resounded with denunciations of the
Huguenots, and passionate appeals were made to the bigotry
and fanaticism of the more ignorant classes; so that, while
the power of the Huguenots lay in some of the country
districts, the mobs of the great towns were everywhere the
instruments of the priests.

I have not considered it necessary to devote any large
portion of my story to details of the terrible massacres of
the period, nor to the atrocious persecutions to which the
Huguenots were subjected, but have as usual gone to the
military events of the struggle for its chief interest. For the -
particulars of these I have relied chiefly upon the collection
of works of contemporary authors published by M. Zeller of
Paris, the Memoirs of Francois de la Noiie, and other French
authorities.

Yours sincerely,

G. A. HENTY.



CHAP.

II.
III.
Ty.
Vv.
VI.
VIL.
VIII.
IX.
X.
XI.
XII.
XII.
XIV.
XY.
XVI.

XVII.

XVITL.
XIX.
XX.
XXL.
XXII.

CONTENTS

. Driven From Homer,

AN Important Decision, .

In A Frencu CHareEau,

AN EXPERIMENT,

TAKING THE Frevp, .

Tue Barrie or Sr. Denis,

A Rescug, .

Tue Turrp Hueuvrnor War,
Aw Inmprorranr Mission,

THe QuEEN or NAVARRE, .
JEANNE OF NAVARRE,

Aw Escare rrom Prison,

Av LAVILLE,

Tue ASSAULT ON THE CHATEAU,
Tur Barrie or JARNAG,

A Hucvrenot PRAYER-MEETING, .
Tur Barrie or Monconrour,
A Vistr Home,

In a Net, .

THE Tocsin,

Escape, .

RevuNITED, .

Page

. 118



ILLUSTRATIONS.

Page
PHILIP GETS HIS FIRST LOOK AT PrerrE,. . . . . Srontis. 66
GASPARD VAILLANT MAKES A PRoposaAn,. . . . . . . . 28
Puinre AND Francois IN THE ARMOURY,. . . . . . . . 54
“I yOU MOVE A STEP YOU ARE A DEAD MAN,” . . . . . 122
PHILIP AND HIS FOLLOWERS EMBARKING, . . . . . . . . 169
Puiure IN PRISON,. «6. ee eee ee ee 209
“ PHILIP STRUCK HIM FULL IN THE FACK,” 2... . ee 269
PIERRE LISTENS AT THE OPEN WinboW oF THE INN,. . . . 284
GASPARD VAILLANT GETS A SURPRISE,. . . . . . . . . 806

“You HAVE NOT HEARD THE NEWS, Monstrur Putnre?”.. . 328

“THAT CROSS IS PLACED THERE BY DESIGN,” . . . . . . 844
PHILIP, CLAIRE, AND PIERRE DISGUISE THEMSELVES, . . . . 052

Mar or France ty 1570,. . . 2. . 1...) . to face p. 10























FRANCE.

IN THE YEAR 1570 4



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BLACKIE & SON, LIMITED, LONDON, GLASGOW & EDINBURGH





ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

A TALE OF THE HUGUENOT WARS.



CHAPTER I.
DRIVEN FROM HOME.

N the year 1567 there were few towns in the
southern counties of England that did not contain

a colony, more or less large, of French Protestants.

For thirty years the Huguenots had been exposed
to constant and cruel persecutions; many thousands had been
massacred by the soldiery, burned at the stake, or put to death
with dreadful tortures. Fifty thousand, it was calculated, had,
in spite of the most stringent measures of prevention, left their
homes and made their escape across the frontiers. These had
settled for the most part in the Protestant cantons of Switzer-
land, in Holland, or England. As many of those who reached
our shores were but poorly provided with money, they natu-
rally settled in or near the ports of landing.

Canterbury was a place in which many of the unfortunate
emigrants found a home. Here one Gaspard Vaillant, his wife,
and her sister, who had landed in the year 1547, had estab-
lished themselves. They were among the first comers, but the
French colony had grown gradually until it numbered several
hundreds, The Huguenots were well liked in the town, being
pitied for their misfortunes and admired for the courage with
which they bore their losses; setting to work, each man at his





12 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

trade if he had one, or if not, taking to the first work that
came to hand. They were quiet and God-fearing folk; very
good towards each other and to their poor countrymen on their
way from the coast to London, entertaining them to the best
of their power, and sending them forward on their way with
letters to the Huguenot committee in London, and with suffi-
cient money in their pockets to pay their expenses on the jour-
ney, and to maintain them for a while until some employment
could be found for them.

Gaspard Vaillant had been a land-owner near Civray, in
Poitou. He was connected by blood with several noble fami-
lies in that district, and had been among the first to embrace
the reformed religion. For some years he had not been inter-
fered with, as it was upon the poorer and more defenceless
classes that the first fury of the persecutors fell; but as the
attempts of Francis to stamp out the new sect failed, and his
anger rose more and more against them, persons of all ranks
fell under the ban. The prisons were filled with Protestants
who refused to confess their errors; soldiers were quartered in
the towns and villages, where they committed terrible atro-
cities upon the Protestants; and Gaspard, seeing no hope of
better times coming, or of being permitted to worship in peace
and quietness, gathered together what money he could and
made his way with his wife and her sister to La Rochelle,
whence he took ship to London.

Disliking the bustle of a large town, he was recommended .
by some of his compatriots to go down to Canterbury, where
three or four fugitives from his own part of the country had
settled. One of these was a weaver by trade, but without
money to manufacture looms or set up in his calling. Gaspard
joined him as partner, embarking the little capital he had
saved; and being a shrewd, clear-headed man he carried on the
business part of the concern, while his partner Lequoc worked
at the manufacture. As the French colony in Canterbury in-
creased they had no difficulty in obtaining skilled hands from
among them. The business grew in magnitude, and the profits



DRIVEN FROM HOME. 13

were large, in spite of the fact that numbers of similar enter-
prises had been established by the Huguenot immigrants in
London and other places. They were indeed amply sufficient
to enable Gaspard Vaillant to live in the condition of a sub-
stantial citizen, to aid his fellow-countrymen, and to lay by a
good deal of money.

His wife’s sister had not remained very long with him. She
had, upon their first arrival, given lessons in her own language
to the daughters of burgesses and of the gentry near the town,
but three years after the arrival of the family there she had
married a well-to-do young yeoman who farmed a hundred acres
of his own land two miles from the town. His relations and
neighbours had shaken their heads over what they considered his
folly in marrying the pretty young Frenchwoman, but ere long
they were obliged to own that his choice had been a good one.
Just after his first child was born he was, when returning home
one evening from market, knocked down and run over by a
drunken carter, and was so injured that for many months his
life was in danger. Then he began to mend, but though he
gained in strength he did not recover the use of his legs, being
completely paralysed from the hips dowuward, and, as it soon
appeared, was destined to remain a helpless invalid all his life.

From the day of the accident Lucie had taken the manage-
ment of affairs in her hands, and having been brought up in
the country, and being possessed of a large share of the shrewd-
ness and common sense for which Frenchwomen are often con
spicuous, she succeeded admirably. The neatness and order of
the house since their marriage had been a matter of surprise
to her husband’s friends, and it was not long before the farm
showed the effects of her management. Gaspard Vaillant
assisted her with his counsel, and as the French methods of
agriculture were considerably in advance of those in England,
instead of things going to rack and ruin, as John Fletcher’s
friends predicted, its returns were considerably augmented.
Naturally, she at first experienced considerable opposition. The
labourers grumbled at what they called new-fangled French



14 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

fashions; but when they left her their places were supplied by
her countrymen, who were frugal and industrious, accustomed
to make the most out of small areas of ground and to turn
every foot to the best advantage.

Gradually the raising of corn was abandoned, and a large
portion of the farm devoted to the growing of vegetables, which,
by dint of plentiful manuring and careful cultivation, were pro-
duced of a size and quality that were the surprise and admi-
ration of the neighbourhood, and gave her almost a monopoly
of the supply of Canterbury. The carters were still English ;
partly because Lucie had the good sense to see that if she
employed French labourers only she would excite feelings of
jealousy and dislike among her neighbours, and partly because
she saw that in the management of horses and cattle the English-
men were equal, if not superior, to her countrymen. Her life
was a busy one; the management of the house and farm would
alone have been a heavy burden to most people, but she found
ample time for the tenderest care of the invalid, whom she
nursed with untiring affection.

“Tt is hard upon a man of my size and inches, Lucie,” he
said one day, “to be lying here as helpless as a sick child; and
yet I don’t feel that I have any cause for discontent. I should
like to be going about the farm, and yet I feel that I am hap-
pier here, lying watching you singing so contentedly over your
work, and making everything so bright and comfortable. Who
would have thought when I married a little French lady that
she was going to turn out a notable farmer? All my friends
tell me that there is not a farm like mine in all the country
round, and that the crops are the wonder of the neighbourhood;
and when I see the vegetables that are brought in here I should
like to go over the farm, if only for once, just to see them
growing.”

“T hope you will be able to do that some day, dear. Not on
foot, I am afraid; but when you get stronger and better, as I
hope you will, we will take you round in a litter, and the bright
sky and the fresh air will do you good.”



DRIVEN FROM HOME. 15

Lucie spoke very fair English now, and her husband had
come to speak a good deal of French; for the service of the
house was all in that language, the three maids being daughters
of French workmen in the town. The waste and disorder of
those who were in the house when her husband first brought her
there had appalled her, and the women so resented any attempt
at teaching on the part of the French madam, that after she
had tried several sets with equally bad results, John Fletcher
had consented to the introduction of French girls, bargaining
only that he was to have good English fare, and not French
kickshaws. The Huguenot customs had been kept up, and night
and morning the house servants, with the French neighbours
and their families, all assembled for prayer in the farmhouse.
To this John Fletcher had agreed without demur. His father
had been a Protestant when there was some danger in being
so, and he himself had been brought up soberly and strictly.
Up to the time of his accident there had been two congrega-
tions, he himself reading the prayers to his farm hands, while
Lucie afterwards read them in her own language to her maids,
but as the French labourers took the place of the English
hands only one service was needed. When John Fletcher first
regained sufficient strength to take much interest in what was
passing round, he was alarmed at the increase in the numbers
of those who attended these gatherings. Hitherto four men
had done the whole work of the farm ; now there were twelve.

“Lucie, dear,” he said uneasily one day, “I know that you
are a capital manager, but it is impossible that a farm the size
of ours can pay with so many hands on it. I have never been
able to do more than pay my way and lay by a few pounds
every year with only four hands, and many would have thought
three sufficient, but with twelve—and I counted them this
morning—we must be on the highroad to ruin.”

“T will not ruin you, John. Do you know how much
money there was in your bag when you were hurt just a year
ago now?”

“Yes, I know there were thirty-three pounds.”





16 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE. ,

His wife went out of the room and returned with a leather
bag.

“Count them, John,” she said.

There were forty-eight. Fifteen pounds represented a vastly
greater sum at that time than they do at present, and John
Fletcher looked up from the counting with amazement.

“This can’t be all ours, Lucie. Your brother must have been
helping us.”

“Not with a penny, doubting man,” she laughed. “The
money is yours, all earned by the farm; perhaps not quite all,
because we have not more than half as many animals as we
had before. But, asI told you, we are growing vegetables, and
for that we must have more men than for corn. But, as you
see, it pays. Do not fear about it, John, If God should please
torestore you to health and strength most gladly will I lay
down the reins, but till then I will manage as best I may, and
with the help and advice of my brother and his friends, shall
hope, by the blessing of God, to keep all straight.”

The farm throve, but its master made but little progress
towards recovery. He was able, however, occasionally to be
carried round in a hand-litter made for him upon a plan devised
by Gaspard Vaillant, in which he was supported in a half-sitting
position, while four men bore him as if in a Sedan-chair. But
it was only occasionally that he could bear the fatigue of such
excursions. Ordinarily he lay on a couch in the farmhouse
kitchen, where he could see all that was going on there; while
in warm summer weather he was wheeled outside, and lay in
the shade of the great elm in front of the house.

The boy, Philip—for so he had been christened, after John
Fletcher’s father, — grew apace, and as soon as he was old
enough to receive instruction his father taught him his letters
out of a hornbook, until he was big enough to go down every
day to school in Canterbury. John himself was built upon a
large scale, and at quarter-staff and wrestling could, before he
married, hold his own with any of the lads of Kent, and Philip
bade fair to take after him in skill and courage. His mother

(777)



DRIVEN FROM HOME, 17

would shake her head reprovingly when he returned with his
face bruised and his clothes torn after encounters with his
school-fellows, but his father took his part.

“Nay, nay, wife,” he said one day, ‘the boy is eleven years
oid now, and must not grow up a milksop. Teach him if you
will to be honest and true, to love God, and to hold to the
faith, but in these days it needs that men should be able to use
their weapons also. There are your countrymen in France,
who ere long will be driven to take up arms for the defence of
their faith and lives from their cruel persecutors; and, as you
have told me, many of the younger men from here and else-
where will assuredly go back to aid their brethren.

“We may even have trials here. Our Queen is a Protestant,
and happily at present we can worship God as we please in
peace; but it was not so in the time of Mary, and it may be that
troubles may again fall upon the land, seeing that as yet the
Queen is not married. Moreover, Philip of Spain has pretensions
to rule here, and every Englishman may be called upon to take
up bow or bill for his faith and country. Our co-religionists in
Holland and France are both being cruelly persecuted, and it
may well be that the time will come when we shall send over
armies to their assistance. I would that the boy should grow
up both a good Christian and a stout soldier. He comes on
both sides of a fighting stock. One of my ancestors fought at
Agincourt, and another with the Black Prince.at Cressy and
Poitiers; while on your side his blood is noble, and, as we
know, the nobles of France are second to none in bravery.

“Before I met you I had thoughts of going out myself to
fight among the English bands who have engaged on the side
of the Hollanders. I had even spoken to my cousin James
about taking charge of the farm while I was away. I would
not have sold it, for Fletchers held this land before the Normans
set foot in England; but I had thoughts of borrowing money
upon it to take me out to the war, when your sweet face drove
all such matters from my mind. Therefore, Lucie, while I

would that you should teach the boy to be good and gentle in
) (777) B



18 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

his manners, so that if he ever goes among your French kins-
men he shall be able to bear himself as befits his birth on that
side, I, for my part—though, alas, I can do nothing myself—
will see that he is taught to use his arms, and to bear himself
as stoutly as an English yeoman should when there is need of it.

“So, wife, I would not have him chidden when he comes
home with a bruised face and his garments somewhat awry.
A boy who can hold his own among boys will some day hold
his own among men, and the fisticuffs in which our English
boys try their strength are as good preparation as are the
courtly sports, in which, as you tell me, young French nobles are
trained. But I would not have him backward in these either.
We Enelish, thank God, have not had much occasion to draw a
sword since we broke the strength of Scotland on Flodden Field,
and in spite of ordinances, we know less than we should do of
the use of our weapons; even the rules that every lad shall
practise shooting at the butts are less strictly observed than
they should be. But in this respect our deficiencies can be
repaired in his case, for here in Canterbury there are several
of your countrymen of noble birth, and doubtless among these
we shall be able to find an instructor for Phil. Many of them
are driven to hard shifts to procure a living; and since that bag
of yours is every day getting heavier, and we have but him to
spend it upon, we will not grudge giving him the best instruc-
tion that can be procured.”

Lucie did not dispute her husband’s will, but she neverthe-
less tried to enlist Gaspard Vaillant, who was frequently up at
the farm with his wife in the evening, for he had a sincere
liking for John Fletcher, on her side, and to get him to dissuade
her husband from putting thoughts into the boy’s head that
might lead him some day to be discontented with the quiet
life on the farm. She found, however, that Gaspard highly
approved of her husband’s determination.

“Fie upon you, Lucie. You forget that you and Marie are
both of noble blood, in that respect being of condition some-
what above myself, although I too am connected with many



DRIVEN FROM HOME 19

good families in Poitou. In other times I should have said
it were better that the boy should grow up to till the land,
which is assuredly an honourable profession, rather than to
become a military adventurer, fighting only for vainglory.
But in our days the sword is not drawn for glory, but for the
right to worship God in peace.

“No one can doubt that ere long the men of the reformed
religion will take up arms to defend their right to live and
worship God in their own way. The cruel persecutions under
Francis I., Henry IJ., and Francis II. have utterly failed in
their object. When Merindol, Cabrieres, and twenty-two
other towns and villages were destroyed in 1547, and persons
persecuted and forced to recant, or to fly as we did, it was
thought that we were but a handful whom it would be easy
to exterminate; but in spite of edict after edict, of persecution,
slaughterings, and burnings, in spite of the massacres of Am-
boise and others, the reformed religion has spread so greatly
that even the Guises are forced to recognize it as a power.
At Fontainebleau Admiral Coligny, Montmorency, the Chati-
llons, and others openly professed the reformed religion, and
argued boldly for tolerance; while Condé and Navarre, although
they declined to be present, were openly ranged on their side.
Had it not been that Henry II. and Francis were both carried
off by the manifest hand of God, the first by a spear-thrust at
a tournament, the second by an abscess in the ear, France
would have been the scene of deadly strife, for both were, when
so suddenly smitten, on the point of commencing a war of
extermination.

“But it is only now that the full strength of those who hold
the faith is manifested. Beza, the greatest of the reformers
next to Calvin himself, and twelve of our most learned and
eloquent pastors, are at Poissy disputing upon the faith with
the Cardinal of Lorraine ‘and the prelates of the Romish church,
in the presence of the young king, the princes, and the court.
It is evident that the prelates are unable to answer the argu-
ments of our champions. The Guises, I hear, are furious; for



20 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

the present Catharine, the queen mother, is anxious for peace
and toleration, and it is probable that the end of this argu-
ment at Poissy will be an edict allowing freedom of worship.
But this will only infuriate still more the Papists, urged on by
Rome and Philip of Spain. Then there will be an appeal to
arms, and the contest will be a dreadful one. Navarre, from
all I hear, has been well-nigh won over by the Guises; but his
noble wife will, all say, hold the faith to the end, and her king-
dom will follow her. Condé is as good a general as Guise,
and with him there is a host of nobles: Rochefoucauld, the
Chatillons, Soubise, Gramont, Rohan, Genlis, and a score of
others. It will be terrible, for in many cases father and son
will be ranged on opposite sides, and brother will fight against
brother.”

“But surely, Gaspard, the war will not last for years?”

“Tt may last for generations,” the weaver said gloomily,
“though not without intermissions, for I believe that after each
success on one side or the other there will be truces and con-
cessions, to be followed by fresh persecutions and fresh wars,
until either the reformed faith becomes the religion of all
France or is entirely stamped out. What is true of France is
true of Holland. Philip will annihilate the reformers there,
or they will shake off the yoke of Spain. England will be
driven to join in one or both struggles; for if papacy is
triumphant in France and Holland, Spain and France would
unite against her. So you see, sister, that in my opinion we
are at the commencement of a long and bloody struggle for
freedom of worship, and at any rate it will be good that the
boy should be trained as he would have been had you married
one of your own rank in France, in order that when he comes
to man’s estate he may be able to wield a sword worthily in
the defence of the faith.

“Had I sons I should train them as your husband intends to
train Phil. It may be that he will never be called upon to draw
a sword, but the time he has spent in acqliring its use will
not be wasted. These exercises give firmness and suppleness



DRIVEN FROM HOME. 21

to the figure, quickness to the eye, and briskness of decision to
the mind. A man who knows that he can at need defend his
life if attacked, whether against soldiers in the field or robbers
in the street, has a sense of power and self-reliance that a man
untrained in the use of the strength God has given him can
never feel. I was instructed in arms when a boy, and I am
none the worse weaver for it. Do not forget, Lucie, that the
boy has the blood of many good French families in his veins,
and you should rejoice that your husband is willing that he
shall be so trained that if the need should ever come he shall
do no discredit to his ancestors on our side. These English
have many virtues which I recognize freely, but we cannot
deny that many of them are somewhat rough and uncouth,
being wondrous lacking in manners and coarse in speech. Jam
sure that you yourself would not wish your son to grow up like
many of the young fellows who come into town on market-day.
Your son will make no worse a farmer for being trained as a
gentleman. You yourself have the training of a French lady,
and yet you manage the farm to admiration. No, no, Lucie,
I trust that between us we shall make a true Christian and
a true gentleman of him, and that if needs be he will show
himself a good soldier also.”

And so between his French relatives and his sturdy English
father, Philip Fletcher had an unusual training. Among the
Huguenots he learned to be gentle and courteous, to bear him-
self among his elders respectfully, but without fear or shyness;
to consider that while all things were of minor consequence in
comparison to the right to worship God in freedom and purity,
yet that a man should be fearless of death, ready to defend his
rights, but with moderation and without pushing them to the
injury of others; that he should be grave and decorous of
speech, and yet of a gay and cheerful spirit. He strove hard so
to deport himself, that if at any time he should return to his
mother’s country, he could take his place among her relations
without discredit. He learned to fence and to dance. Some
of the stricter of the Huguenots were of opinion that the latter



22 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

accomplishment was unnecessary, if not absolutely sinful, but
Gaspard Vaillant was firm on this point.

“Dancing is a stately and graceful exercise,” he said, ‘and
like the use of arms it greatly improves the carriage and poise
of the figure. Queen Elizabeth loves dancing, and none can
say that she is not a good Protestant. Every youth should be
taught to dance, if only he may know how to walk. I am not
one of those who think that because a man is a good Christian
he should necessarily be awkward and ungainly in speech and
manner, adverse to innocent gaities, narrow in his ideas, ill-
dressed, and ill-mannered, as I see are many of those most
extreme in religious matters in this country.”

Upon the other hand, in the school playground, under the
shadow of the grand cathedral, Phil was as English as any,
being foremost in their rough sports, and ready for any fun or
mischief. He fought many battles, principally because the
difference of his manner from that of the others often caused
him to be called “Frenchy.” The epithet in itself was not dis-
pleasing to him, for he was passionately attached to his mother,
and had learned from her to love her native country; but
applied in derision it was regarded by him as an insult, and
many a tough battle did he fight, until his prowess was so
generally acknowledged that the name, though still used, was
no longer one of disrespect.

In figure he took after his French rather than his English
ancestors. Of more than average height for his age, he was
apparently slighter in build than his school-fellows; it was not
that he lacked width of chest, but that his bones were smaller
and his frame less heavy. The English boys among themselves
sometimes spoke of him as “skinny,” a word considered specially
appropriate to Frenchmen; but though he lacked their round-
ness and fulness of limb, and had not an ounce of superfluous
flesh about him, he was all sinew and wire, and while in sheer
strength he was fully their equal, he was incomparably quicker
and more active. Although in figure and carriage he took after
his mother’s countrymen, his features and expression were



DRIVEN FROM HOME 23

wholly English. His hair was light-brown, his eyes a bluish-
gray, his complexion fair, and his mouth and eyes alive with
fun and merriment. This, however, seldom found vent in
laughter. His intercourse with the grave Huguenots, saddened
by their exile, and quiet and restrained in manner, taught him
to repress mirth which would have appeared to them unseemly,
and to remain a grave and silent listener to their talk of their
unhappy country, and their discussions on religious matters.

To his school-fellows he was somewhat of an enigma. There
was no more good-tempered young fellow in the school, no one
more ready to do a kindness; but they did not understand
why, when he was pleased, he smiled while others roared with
laughter; why when in their sports he exerted himself to the
utmost, he did so silently while others shouted; why his words
were always few, and when he differed from others, he expressed
himself with a courtesy that puzzled them; why he never
wrangled nor quarrelled; and why any trick played upon an
old woman or a defenceless person roused him to fury.

As a rule, when boys do not quite understand one of their
number they dislike him. Philip Fletcher was an exception.
They did not understand him, but they consoled themselves
under this by the explanation that he was half a French-
man, and could not be expected to be like a regular English
boy, and they recognized instinctively that he was their
superior.

Much of Philip’s time was spent at the house of his uncle,
and among the Huguenot colony. Here also were many boys
of his own age; these went to a school of their own, taught
by the pastor of their own church, who held weekly services in
the crypt of the cathedral, which had been granted to them for
that purpose by the dean.

While with his English school-fellows he joined in sports and
games, among these French lads the talk was sober and quiet.
Scarce a week passed but some fugitive, going through Canter-
bury, brought the latest news of the situation in France, and
the sufferings of their co-religionist friends and relations



24 ST. BARTHOLOMEWS EVE.

there, and the political events were the chief topics of con-
versation.

The concessions made at the Conference of Poissy had
infuriated the Catholics, and the war was brought on by the
Duke of Guise, who, passing with a large band of retainers
through the town of Vassy in Champagne, found the Hugue-
nots there worshipping in a barn. . His retainers attacked them,
slaying men, women, and children. Some sixty being killed,
and a hundred or more left terribly wounded.

The Protestant nobles demanded that Francis of Guise
should be punished for this atrocious massacre, but in vain,
and Guise, on entering Paris in defiance of Catharine’s pro-
hibition, was received with royal honours by the populace.
The Cardinal of Lorraine, the duke’s brother, the duke himself,
and their allies, the Constable Montmorency and Marshal Saint
André, assumed so threatening an attitude that Catharine left
Paris and went to Mélun, her sympathies at this period
being with the reformers, by whose aid alone she thought that
she could maintain her influence in the state against that of
the Guises.

Condé was forced to leave Paris with the Protestant nobles,
and from all parts of France the Huguenots marched to assist
him. Coligny, the greatest of the Huguenot leaders, hesitated,
being, above all things, reluctant to plunge France into civil
war; but the entreaties of his noble wife, of his brothers and
friends, overpowered his reluctance. Condé left Meaux with
fifteen hundred horse with the intention of seizing the person
of the young king, but he had been forestalled by the Guises,
and moved to Orleans, where he took up his head-quarters.
All over France the Huguenots rose in such numbers as
astonished their enemies, and soon became possessed of a great
many important cities.

Their leaders had endeavoured, in every way, to impress
upon them the necessity of behaving as men who fought only
for the right to worship God, and for the most part these
injunctions were strictly obeyed. In one matter alone the



DRIVEN FROM HOME. 25

Huguenots could not be restrained. For thirty years the
people of their faith had been executed, tortured, and slain,
and their hatred of the Romish church manifested itself by the
destruction of images and pictures of all kinds in the churches
of the towns of which they obtained possession.

Only in the south-east of France was there any exception
to the general excellence of their conduct. Their persecution
here had always been very severe, and in the town of Orange
the papal troops committed a massacre almost without a
parallel in its atrocity. The Baron of Adrets, on behalf of the
Protestants, took revenge by massacres equally atrocious; but
while the butchery at Orange was hailed with approbation and
delight by the Catholic leaders, those promoted by Adrets
excited such a storm of indignation among the Huguenots of
all classes that he shortly afterwards went over to the other
side, and was found fighting against the party he had disgraced.
At Toulouse three thousand Huguenots were massacred, and
in other towns where the Catholics were in a majority terrible
persecutions were carried out.

It was nearly a year after the massacre at Vassy before the
two armies met in battle. The Huguenots had suffered greatly
by the delays caused by attempts at negotiations and compro-
mise. Condé’s army was formed entirely of volunteers, and
the nobles and gentry, as their means became exhausted, were
compelled to return home with their retainers, while many
were forced to march to their native provinces to assist their
co-religionists there to defend themselves from their Catholic
neighbours.

England had entered to a certain extent upon the war,
Elizabeth after long vacillation having at length agreed to
send six thousand men to hold the towns of Havre, Dieppe,
‘and Rouen, providing these three towns were handed over to
her, thus evincing the same calculating greed that marked her
subsequent dealings with the Dutch in their struggle for free-
dom. In vain Condé and Coligny begged her not to impose
conditions that Frenchmen would hold to be infamous to them.



26 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

In vain Throgmorton, her ambassador at Paris, warned her
that she would alienate the Protestants of France from her,
while the possession of the cities would avail her but little.
In vain her minister, Cecil, urged her frankly to ally herself
with the Protestants. From the first outbreak of the war for
freedom of conscience in France to the termination of the
struggle in Holland, Elizabeth baffled both friends and enemies
by her vacillation and duplicity, and her utter want of faith,
doling out aid in the spirit of a huckster rather than a queen,
so that she was in the end even more hated by the Protestants
of Holland and France than by the Catholics of France and
Spain.

To those who look only at the progress made by England
during the reign of Elizabeth—thanks to her great ministers,
her valiant sailors and soldiers, long years of peace at home,
and the spirit and energy of her people,—Elizabeth may appear
a great monarch. To those who study her character from her
relations with the struggling Protestants of Holland and Trance,
it will appear that she was, although intellectually great, mor-
ally one of the meanest, falsest, and most despicable of women.

Rouen, although stoutly defended by the inhabitants, sup-
ported by Montgomery with eight hundred soldiers and five
hundred Englishmen under Killegrew of Pendennis, was at
last forced to surrender. The terms granted to the garrison
were basely violated, and many of the Protestants put to death.
The King of Navarre, who had, since he joined the Catholic
party, shown the greatest zeal in their cause, commanded the
besiegers. He was wounded in one of the attacks upon the town,
and died shortly afterwards.

The two armies finally met on the 19th of December, 1562.
The Catholic party had sixteen thousand foot, two thousand
horse, and twenty-two cannon; the Huguenots four thousand
horse, but only eight thousand infantry and five cannon. Condé
at first broke the Swiss pikemen of the Guises, while Coligny
scattered the cavalry of Constable Montmorency, who was
wounded and taken prisoner; but the infantry of the Catholics



AN IMPORTANT DECISION. 27

defeated those of the Huguenots, the troops sent by the Ger-
man princes to aid the latter behaving with great cowardice.
Condé’s horse was killed under him, and he was made prisoner.
Coligny drew off the Huguenot cavalry and the remains of the
infantry in good order, and made his retreat unmolested.

The Huguenots had been worsted in the battle, and the loss
of Condé was a serious blow; but on the other hand Marshal
Saint André was killed and the Constable Montmorency a
prisoner. Coligny was speedily reinforced, and the assassina-
tion of the Duke of Guise by an enthusiast of the name of
Jean Poltrot more than equalized matters.

Both parties being anxious to treat, terms of peace were
arranged on the condition that the Protestant lords should be
reinstated in their honours and possessions; all nobles and
gentlemen should be allowed to celebrate in their own houses
the worship of the reformed religion; that in every bailiwick
the Protestants should be allowed to hold their religious services
in the suburbs of one city, and should also be permitted to
celebrate it in one or two places inside the walls of all the cities
they held at the time of the signature of the truce. This agree-
ment was known as the Treaty of Amboise, and sufficed to
secure peace for France until the latter end of 1567.

CHAPTER II
AN IMPORTANT DECISION.

NE day in June, 1567, Gaspard Vaillant and his wife went

up to Fletcher's farm.

“T have come up to have a serious talk with you, John,
about Philip. You see, in a few months he will be sixteen.
He is already taller than I am. René and Gustave both tell
me that they have taught him all they know with sword and
dagger; and both have been stout men-at-arms in their time,



28 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

and assure me that the lad could hold his own against any
young French noble of his own age, and against not a few men.
It is time that we came to some conclusion about his future.”

“T have thought of it much, Gaspard. Lying here so help-
less, my thoughts do naturally turn to him. The boy has grown
almost beyond my power of understanding. Sometimes when
I hear him laughing and jesting with the men, or with some of
his school friends whom he brings up here, it seems to me that
I see myself again in him; and that he is a merry young fellow,
full of life and fun, and able to hold his own at single-stick, or
to foot it round the maypole with any lad in Kent of his age.
Then again, when he is talking with his mother, or giving
directions in her name to the French labourers, I see a dif-
ferent lad altogether: grave and quiet, with a gentle, courteous
way, fit for a young noble ten years his senior. I don’t know
but that between us, Gaspard, we have made a mess of it, and
that it might have been better for him to have grown up
altogether as I was, with no thought or care save the manage-
ment of his farm, with a liking for sport and fun when such
came in his way.”

“Not at all, not at all,” Gaspard Vaillant broke in hastily,
“we have made a fine man of him, John; and it seems to me
that he possesses the best qualities of both our races. He is
frank and hearty, full of life and spirits when, as you say,
occasion offers, giving his whole heart either to work or play,
with plenty of determination, and what you English call back-
bone; there is, in fact, a solid English foundation to his char-
acter. Then from our side he has gained the gravity of
demeanour that belongs to us Huguenots, with the courtesy of
manner, the carriage and bearing of a young Frenchman of
good blood. Above all, John, he is a sober Christian, strong
in the reformed faith, and with a burning hatred against its
persecutors, be they French or Spanish. Well, then, being
what he is, what is to be done with him? In the first place,
are you bent upon his remaining here? I think that with his
qualities and disposition it would be well that for a while he





KES A PROPOSAL

MA

NT

ATLLA

SPARD V.

\



AN IMPORTANT DECISION. 29

had a wider scope. Lucie has managed the farm for the last
fifteen years, and can well continue to do so for another ten if
God should spare her; and my own opinion is, that for that
time he might be left to try his strength, and to devote to the
good cause the talents God has given him, and the skill and
training that he has acquired through us, and that it would be
for his good to make the acquaintance of his French kinsfolk
and to see something of the world.”

“J know that is Lucie’s wish also, Gaspard; and I have
frequently turned the matter over in my mind, and have con-
cluded that should it be your wish also, it would be well for
me to throw no objections in the way. I shall miss the boy
sorely; but young birds cannot be kept always in the nest,
and I think that the lad has such good stuff in him that it
were a pity to keep him shut up here.”

“ Now, John,” his brother-in-law went on, “although I may
never have said quite as much before, I have said enough for
you to know what my intentions are. God has not been pleased
to bestow children upon us, and Philip is our nearest relation,
and stands to us almost in the light of a son. God has blest
my work for the last twenty years, and though I have done,
I hope, fully my share towards assisting my countrymen in dis-
tress, putting by always one-third of my income for that pur-
pose, I am a rich man. The factory has grown larger and
larger; not because we desired greater gains, but that I might
give employment to more and more of my countrymen. Since
the death of Lequoc twelve years ago it has been entirely in
my hands, and living quietly as we have done, a greater por-
tion of the profits have been laid by every year; therefore,
putting out of account the money that my good sister has laid
by, Philip will start in life not ill equipped.

“T know that the lad has said nothing of any wishes he may
entertain—at his age it would not be becoming for him to do
so until his elders speak,—but of late when we have read to
him letters from our friends in France, or when he has listened
to the tales of those freshly arrived from their ruined homes,



30 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

I have noted that his colour rose, that his fingers tightened
as if on a sword, and could see how passionately he was long-
ing to join those who were struggling against their cruel op-
pressors. Not less interested has he been in the noble struggle
that the Dutch are making against the Spaniards; a struggle
in which many of our exiled countrymen are sharing.

“One of his mother’s cousins, the Count de La Noiie, is, as
you know, prominent among the Huguenot leaders, and others
of our relatives are ranged on the same side. At present there
is a truce, but both parties feel that it is a hollow one; never-
theless it offers a good opportunity for him to visit his mother’s
family. Whether there is any prospect of our ever recovering
the lands which were confiscated on our flight is uncertain.
Should the Huguenots ever maintain their ground and win
freedom of worship in France, it may be that the confiscated
estates will in many cases be restored; as to that, however,
Iam perfectly indifferent. Were I a younger man I should
close my factory, return to France, and bear my share in the
defence of the faith, As it is, I should like to send Philip
over as my substitute.

“It would at any rate be well that he should make the
acquaintance of his kinsfolk in France, although even I should
not wish that he should cease to regard England as his native
country and home. Hundreds of young men, many no older
than himself, are in Holland fighting against the persecutors,
and risking their lives, though having no kinship with the
Dutch; impelled simply by their love of the faith and their
hatred of persecution. I have lately, John, though the matter
has been kept quiet, purchased the farms of Blunt and Mardyke,
your neighbours on either hand. Both are nearly twice the
size of your own, — I have arranged with the men that for the
present they shall continue to work them as my tenants, as
they were before the tenants of Sir James Holford, who, having
wasted his money at court, has been forced to sell a portion of
his estates.

“Thus some day Phil will come into possession of land



AN IMPORTANT DECISION. 31

which will place him in a good position, and I am prepared to
add to it considerably. Sir James Holford still gambles away
his possessions, and I have explained to his notary my willing-
ness to extend my purchases at any time, should he desire to
sell. I should at once commence the building of a comfortable
mansion; but it is scarce worth while to do so, for it is pro-
bable that before many years Sir James may be driven to part
with his Hall as well as his land. In the meantime I am ready
to provide Philip with an income which will enable him to take
his place with credit among our kinsfolk, and to raise a com-
pany of some fifty men to follow him in the field, should
Condé and the Huguenots again be driven to struggle against
the Guises. What do you think?”

“T think in the first place that Lucie and I should be
indeed grateful to you, Gaspard, for your generous offer. As
to his going to France, that I must talk over with his mother,
whose wishes in this, as in all respects, are paramount with me.
But I may say at once, that lying here as I do, thinking of the
horrible cruelties and oppressions to which men and women
are subjected for the faith’s sake in France and Holland, I feel
that we, who are happily able to worship in peace and quiet,
ought to hesitate at no sacrifice on their behalf; and, moreover,
seeing that owing to my affliction he owes what he is rather
to his mother and you than to me, I think your wish that he
should make the acquaintance of his kinsfolk in France is a
natural one. I have no wish for the lad to become a courtier,
English or French, nor that he should, as Englishmen have
done before now in foreign armies, gain great honour and
reputation; but if it is his wish to fight on behalf of the
persecuted people of God, whether in France or in Holland, he
will do so with my heartiest good-will, and if he die he could
not die in a more glorious cause. Let us talk of other matters
now, Gaspard, this is one that needs thought before more
words are spoken.”

Two days later John Fletcher had a long talk with Phil.
The latter was delighted when he heard the project, which was



32 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

greatly in accord with both sides of his character. As an
English lad he looked forward eagerly to adventure and peril;
as French and of the reformed religion he was rejoiced at the
thought of fighting with the Huguenots against their persecu-
tors, and of serving under the men with whose names and
reputations he was so familiar.

“TI do not know your uncle’s plans for you as yet, Phil,” his
father said. “He went not into such matters, leaving these
to be talked over after it had been settled whether his offer
should be accepted or not. He purposes well by you, and
regards you as his heir. He has already bought Blunt and
Mardyke’s farms, and purposes to buy other parts of the estates
of Sir James Holford, as they may slip through the knight’s
fingers at the gambling-table. Therefore in time you will
become a person of standing in the county; and although I
care little for these things now, Phil, yet I should like you to
be somewhat more than a mere squire; and if you serve
for a while under such great captains as Coligny and Condé
it will give you reputation and weight. Your good uncle
and his friends think little of such matters, but I own that I
am not uninfluenced by them. Coligny, for example, is a man
whom all honour, and that honour is not altogether because he
is leader of the reformed faith, but because he is a great
soldier.

“T do not think that honour and reputation are to be
despised. Doubtless the first thing of all is that a man should
be a good Christian. But that will in no way prevent him from
being a great man; nay, it will add to his greatness. You have
noble kinsfolk in France, to some of whom your uncle will
doubtless commit you, and it may be that you will have oppor-
tunities of distinguishing yourself. Should such occur I am
sure you will avail yourself of them, as one should do who
comes of good stock on both sides; for although we Fletchers
have been but yeomen from generation to generation, we have
been ever ready to take and give our share of hard blows when
they were going; and there have been few battles fought since



AN IMPORTANT DECISION. 33

William the Norman came over that a Fletcher has not fought
in the English ranks, whether in France, in Scotland, or in our
own troubles.

“Therefore it seems to me but natural that for many reasons
you should desire at your age to take part in the fighting;
as an Englishman, because Englishmen fought six years ago
under the banner of Condé; as a Protestant, on behalf of our
persecuted brethren; as a Frenchman by your mother’s side,
because you have kinsfolk engaged, and because it is the Pope
and Philip of Spain, as well as the Guises, who are in fact
battling to stamp out French liberty. Of one thing I am
sure, my boy, you will disgrace neither an honest English name
nor the French blood in your veins, nor your profession as a
Christian and a Protestant. There are Englishmen gaining
credit on the Spanish Main under Drake and Hawkins, there
are Englishmen fighting manfully by the side of the Dutch,
there are others in the armies of the Protestant princes. of
Germany, and in none of these matters are they so deeply
concerned as you are in the affairs of France and religion.

“T shall miss you, of course, Philip, and that sorely; but I
have long seen that this would probably be the upshot of your
training, and since I can myself take no share in adventure
beyond the walls of this house, I shall feel that I am living
again in you. But, lad, never forget that you are English. You
are Philip Fletcher, come of an old Kentish stock, and though
you may be living with French kinsfolk: and friends, always
keep uppermost the fact that you are an Englishman who
sympathizes with France, and not a Frenchman with some
English blood in your veins. I have given you up greatly to
your French relations here; but if you win credit and honour
I would have it won by my son, Philip Fletcher, born in
England of an English father, and who will one day be a
gentleman and land-owner in the county of Kent.”

“T shan’t forget that, father,” Philip said earnestly. ‘I have
never regarded myself as in any way French, although speaking

the tongue as well as English, and being so much among my
(777)



34 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

mother’s friends. But living here with you, where our people
have lived so many years, hearing from you the tales from our
history, seeing these English fields around me, and being at
an English school among English boys, I have ever felt that
I am English, though in no way regretting the Huguenot blood
that I inherit from my mother. Believe me, that if I fight in
France it will be as an Englishman who has drawn his sword
in the quarrel, and rather as one who hates oppression and
cruelty than because I have French kinsmen engaged in it.”

“That is well, Philip. You may be away for some years,
but I trust that on your return you will find me sitting here
to welcome you back. A creaking wheel lasts long. I have
everything to make my life happy and peaceful—the best of
wives, a well-ordered farm, and no thought or care as to my
worldly affairs; and since it has been God’s will that such
should be my life, my interest will be wholly centred in you,
and I hope to see your children playing round me, or, for
ought I know, your grandchildren, for we are a long-lived race.
And now, Philip, you had best go down and see your uncle
and thank him for his good intentions towards you. Tell him
that I wholly agree with his plans, and that if he and your aunt
will come up this evening we will enter farther into them.”

That evening John Fletcher learned that it was the intention
of Gaspard that his wife should accompany Philip.

‘Marie yearns to see her people again,” he said, “and the
present is a good time for her to do so; for when the war
once breaks out again none can say how long it will last or how
it will terminate. Her sister and Lucie’s, the Countess de
Laville, has, as you know, frequently written urgently for Marie
to go over and pay her a visit. Hitherto I have never been
able to bring myself to spare her, but I feel that this is so
good an opportunity that I must let her go for a few weeks.
Philip could not be introduced under better auspices. He
will escort Marie to his aunt’s, remain there with her, and
then see her on board ship again at La Rochelle, after which,
doubtless, he will remain at his aunt’s, and when -the struggle



AN IMPORTANT DECISION. 35

begins will ride with his cousin Francois. I have hesitated
whether I should go also. But, in the first place, my business
would get on but badly without me; ia the second, although
Marie might travel safely enough, I might be arrested were
I recognized as one who had left the kingdom contrary to the
edicts; and lastly, I never was on very good terms with her
family. :

“Emilie, in marrying the Count de Laville, made a match
somewhat above her own rank; for the Lavilles were a wealthier
and more powerful family than that of Charles de Moulins, her
father. On the other hand, I was, although of good birth, yet
inferior in consideration to De Moulins, although my lands ©
were broader than his; consequently we saw little of Emilie
after our marriage. Therefore my being with Marie would in
no way increase the warmth of the welcome that she and
Philip will receive. I may say that the estrangement was,
perhaps, more my fault than that of the Lavilles. I chose to
fancy there was a coolness on their part, which probably existed
only in my imagination. Moreover, shortly after my marriage
the religious troubles grew serious, and we were all too much
absorbed in our own perils and those of our poorer neighbours
to think of travelling about, or of having family gatherings,

“ At any rate, I feel that Philip could not enter into life more
favourably than as cousin of Francois de Laville, who is but
two years or so his senior, and who will, his mother wrote to
Marie, ride behind that gallant gentleman Francois de la Noiie
if the war breaks out again. Iam glad to feel confident that
Philip will in no way bring discredit upon his relations. I
shall at once order clothes for him suitable for the occasion.
They will be such as will befit an English gentleman; good in
material but sober in colour, for the Huguenots eschew bright
hues. I will take his measure, and seud up to a friend in
London for a helmet, breast, and back pieces, together with
offensive arms, sword, dagger, and pistols. I have already
written to correspondents at Southampton and Plymouth for
news as to the sailing of a ship bound for La Rochelle. There



36 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

he had better take four men into his service, for in these days
it is by no means safe to ride through France unattended,
especially when one is of the reformed religion. The roads
abound with disbanded soldiers and robbers, while in the
villages a fanatic might at’ any time bring on a religious
tumult. I have many correspondents at La Rochelle, and will
write to one asking him to select four stout fellows, who
showed their courage in the last war and can be relied on for
good and faithful service. I will also get him to buy horses
and make all arrangements for the journey. Marie will write
to her sister. Lucie, perhaps, had better write under the same
cover; for although she can remember but little of Emilie, see-
ing that she was fully six years her junior, it would be natural
that she should take the opportunity to correspond with her.

“In one respect, Phil,” he went on, turning to his nephew,
“you will find yourself at some disadvantage, perhaps, among
young Frenchmen, You can ride well, and I think can sit a
horse with any of them; but of the ménage, that is to say, the
purely ornamental management of a horse, in which they are
most carefully instructed, you know nothing. It is one of the
tricks of fashion, of which plain men like myself know but
little; and though I have often made inquiries, I have found
no one who could instruct you. However, these delicacies
are rather for courtly displays than for the rough work of war;
though it must be owned that in single combat between two
swordsmen, he who has the most perfect control over his horse,
and can make the animal wheel or turn, press upon his oppon-
ent, or give way by a mere touch of his leg or hand, possesses
a considerable advantage over the man who is unversed in such
matters. I hope you will not feel the want of it, and at any
rate it has not been my fault that you have had no opportunity
of acquiring the art. :

“The tendency is more and more to fight on foot. The duel
has taken the place of the combat in the lists, and the pikeman
counts for as much in the winning of a battle as the mounted
man. You taught us that at Cressy and Agincourt; but we



AN IMPORTANT DECISION. 37

have been slow to learn the lesson which was brought home
to you in your battles with the Scots, and in your own civil
struggles. It is the bow and the pike that have made the
English soldier famous; while in France, where the feudal
system still prevails, horsemen still form a large proportion of
our armies, and the jousting lists and the exercise of the ménage
still occupy a large share in the training and amusements of
the young men of noble families.”

Six weeks later Philip Fletcher landed at La Rochelle with his
aunt and her French serving-maid. When the ship came into
port, the clerk of a trader there came on board at once, and on
the part of his employer begged Madame Vaillant and her son
to take up their abode at his house, he having been warned of
their coming by his valued correspondent, Monsieur Vaillant.
A porter was engaged to carry up their luggage to the house,
whither the clerk at once conducted them. From his having
lived so long among the Huguenot colony, the scene was less
strange to Philip than it would have been to most English
lads. La Rochelle was a strongly Protestant city, and the
sober-coloured costumes of the people differed but little from
those to which he was accustomed in the streets of Canterbury.
He himself and his aunt attracted no attention whatever from
passers-by, her costume being exactly similar to those worn by
the wives of merchants, while Philip would have passed any-
where as a young Huguenot gentleman, in his doublet of
dark puce cloth, slashed with gray, his trunks of the same
colour, and long gray hose.

“A proper-looking young gentleman,” a market-woman said
to her daughter as he passed. “Another two or three years
and he will make a rare defender of the faith, He must
be from Normandy, with his fair complexion and light eyes.
There are not many of the true faith in the north.”

They were met by the merchant at the door of his house.

“Tam glad indeed to see you again, Madame Vaillant,” he
said. “It is some twenty years now since you and your good
husband and your sister hid here for three days before we



a

38 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

could smuggle you on board a ship. Ah! those were bad times;
though there have been worse since. But since our people
showed. that they did not intend any longer to be slaughtered
unresistingly, things have gone better here at least, and for the
last four years the slaughterings and murders have ceased. You
are but little changed, madame, since I saw you last.”

“TI have lived a quiet and happy life, my good Monsieur
Bertram; free from all strife and care, save for anxiety about
our people here. Why cannot Catholics and Protestants live
quietly side by side here, as they do in England 4”

“We should ask nothing better, madame.”

At this moment a girl came hurrying down the stairs.

“This is my daughter Jean, madame. Why were you not
down before, Jean?” he asked sharply. “I told you to place
Suzette at the casement to warn you when our visitors were in
sight, so that you should, as was proper, be at the door to meet
them. I suppose instead of that you had the maid arranging
your head-gear, or some such worldly folly.”

The girl coloured hotly, for her father had hit upon the
truth.

“Young people will be young people, Monsieur Bertram,”
Madame Vaillant said smiling, “and my husband and I are not
of those who think that it is necessary to carry a prim face
and to attire one’s self in ugly garments as a proof of religion.
Youth is the time for mirth and happiness, and nature teaches
a maiden what is becoming to her; why then should we blame
her for setting off the charms God has given her to their best
advantage?”

By this time they had reached the upper storey, and the
merchant’s daughter hastened to relieve Madame Vaillant of
her wraps.

“This is my nephew, of whom my hushand wrote to you,”
the latter said to the merchant, when Philip entered the room
—he having lingered at the door to pay the porters, and to
see that the luggage, which had come up close behind them,
was stored



AN IMPORTANT DECISION 39

“He looks active and strong, madame; he has the figure of
a fine swordsman.”

“He has been well taught, and will do no discredit to our
race, Monsieur Bertram. His father is a strong and powerful
man, even for an Englishman, and though Philip does not
follow his figure he has something of his strength.”

“They are wondrous strong, these Englishmen,” the trader
said. “TI have seen among their sailors men who are taller
by a head than most of us here, and who look strong enough
to take a bull by the horns and hold him. But had it not
been for your nephew’s fair hair and gray eyes, his complexion,
and the smile on his lips—we have almost forgotten how to
smile in France—I should hardly have taken him for an
Englishman.”

“There is nothing extraordinary in that, Monsieur Bertram,
when his mother is French, and he has lived greatly in the
society of my husband and myself, and among the Huguenot
colony at Canterbury.”

‘Have you succeeded in getting the horses and the four
men for us, Monsieur Bertram?” Philip asked.

“Yes, everything is in readiness for your departure to-
morrow. Madame will, I suppose, ride behind you upon a
pillion, and her maid behind one of the troopers. I have, in
accordance with Monsieur Vaillant’s instructions, bought a
horse, which I think you will be pleased with, for Guise him-
self might ride upon it without feeling that he was ill mounted,
I was fortunate in lighting on such an animal. It was the
property of a young noble, who rode hither from Navarre and
was sailing for England. I imagine he bore despatches from
the queen to her majesty of England. He had been set upon
by robbers on the way; they took everything he possessed,
and held him prisoner, doubtless meaning to get a ransom for
him; but he managed to slip off while they slept and to’ mount
his horse, with which he easily left the varlets behind, although
they chased him for some distance. So when he came here he
offered to sell his horse to obtain an outfit and money for his



40 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

voyage; and the landlord of the inn, who is a friend of mine,
knowing that I had been inquiring for a good animal, brought
him to me, and we soon struck a bargain.”

“Tt was hard on him to lose his horse in that fashion,”
Philip said; “and I am sorry for it, though I may be the
gainer thereby.”

“He did not seem to mind much,” the merchant said.
‘‘ Horses are good and abundant in Navarre, and when I said
I did not like to take advantage of his strait he only laughed
and said he had three or four others as good at home. He did
say, though, that he would like to know if it was to be in good
hands. I assured him that on that ground he need not fear ; for
that I had bought it for a young gentleman, nearly related to
the Countess de Laville. He said that was well, and seemed
glad indeed that it was not to be ridden by one of the brigands,
into whose hands he fell.”

“And the men. Are they trustworthy fellows?”

“They are stout men-at-arms. They are Gascons all, and
rode behind Coligny in the war, and according to their own
account performed wonders; but as Gascons are given to boast-
ing, I paid not much heed to that. However, they were re-
commended to me by a friend, a large wine-grower, for whom
they have been working for the last two years. He says they
are honest and industrious, and they are leaving him only
because they are anxious for a change, and deeming that
troubles were again approaching, wanted to enter the service
of some Huguenot lord who would be likely to take the field.
He was lamenting the fact to me, when I said that it seemed
to me they were just the men I was in search of ; and I accord-
ingly saw them, and engaged them on the understanding
that at the end of a month you should be free to discharge
them if you were not satisfied with them, and that equally they
could leave your service if they did not find it suit.

“They have arms, of course, and such armour as they need,
and I have bought four serviceable horses for their use, to
gether with a horse to carry your baggage, but which will



AN IMPORTANT DECISION, 4l

serve for your body-servant. J have not found a man for
that office. I knew of no one who would, as I thought, suit
you, and in such a business it seemed to me better that you
should wait and choose for yourself, for in the matter of ser-
vants everyone has his fancies. Some like a silent knave, while
others prefer a merry one. Some like a tall proper fellow,
who can fight if needs be; others a staid man, who will do
his duty and hold his tongue, who can cook a good dinner and
groom ahorse well. It is certain you will never find all virtues
combined. One man may be all that you wish, but he is a liar;
another helps himself; a third is too fond of the bottle. In
this matter, then, I did not care to take the responsibility, but
have left-it for you to choose for yourself.”

“J shall be more likely to make a mistake than you will,
Monsieur Bertram,” Philip said with a laugh.

“Perhaps so, but then it will be your own mistake; and a
man chafes less at the shortcomings of one whom he has
chosen himself than at those of one who has, as it were, been
forced upon him.”

“Well, there will be no hurry in that matter,” Philip said.
‘T can get on well enough without a servant fora time. Up to
the present I have certainly never given a thought as to what
kind of man I should want as a servant, and I should like
time to think over a matter which is, from what you say, so
important.”

“ Assuredly it is important, young sir. If you should take
the field you will find that your comfort greatly depends upon
it. A sharp, active knave, who will ferret out good quarters
for you, turn you out a good meal from anything he can get
hold of, bring your horse up well groomed in the morning and
your armour brightly polished; who will not le to’ you over-
much or rob you overmuch, and who will only get drunk at
times when you can spare his services. Ah! he would be a
treasure to you. But assuredly such a man is not to be found
every day.”

“And of course,” Marie put in, “in addition to what you



42 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

have said, Monsieur Bertram, it would be necessary that he
should be one of our religion, and fervent and strong in the
faith.”

“My dear lady, I was mentioning possibilities,” the trader
said, “It is of course advisable that he should be a Huguenot,
it is certainly essential that he should not be a Papist; but
beyond this we need not inquire too closely. You cannot ex-
pect the virtues of an archbishop and the capacity of a horse-
boy. If he can find a man embracing the qualities of both, by
all means let your son engage him; but as he will require him
to be a good cook and a good groom, and he will not require
religious instruction from him, the former points are those on
which I should advise him to lay most stress, And now, Madame
Vaillant, will you let me lead you into the next room, where,
as my daughter has for some time been trying to make me under-
stand, a meal is ready. And I doubt not that you are also ready ;
for truly those who travel by sea are seldom able to enjoy food,
save when they are much accustomed to voyaging. Though
they tell me that after a time even those with the most delicate
stomachs recover their appetites, and are able to enjoy the
rough fare they get on board a ship.”

After the meal was over the merchant took Philip to the
stables, where the new purchases had been put up. The men
were not there, but the ostler brought out Philip’s horse, with
which he was delighted. .

‘He will not tire under his double load,” the merchant said ;
“and with only your weight upon him a foeman would be well
mounted indeed to overtake you.”

“I would rather that you put it, Monsieur Bertram, that a
foeman needs be well mounted to escape me.”

“Well, I hope it will be that way,” his host replied smiling.
“But in fighting, such as we have here, there are constant
changes; the party that is pursued one day is the pursuer a
week later, and of the two, you know, speed is of much more
importance in flight than in pursuit. If you cannot overtake
a foe, well, he gets away, and you may have better fortune



AN IMPORTANT DECISION. 43

next time; but if you can’t get away from a foe, the chances are
you may never have another opportunity of doing so.”

“Perhaps you are right. In fact, now I think of it, I am
sure you are; though I hope it will not often happen that we
shall have to depend for safety on the speed of our horses. At
any rate, I am delighted with him, Monsieur Bertram, and I
thank you greatly for procuring so fine an animal for me. If
the four men turn out to be as good of their kind as the horse,
I shall be well set up indeed.”

Early the next morning the four men came round to the
merchant’s, and Philip went down with him into the entry-hall
where they were. He was well satisfied with their appearance.
They were stout fellows, from twenty-six to thirty years old.
All were soberly dressed, and wore steel caps and breast-pieces,
and carried long swords by their sides. In spite of the serious
expression of their faces, Philip saw that all were in high if
restrained spirits at again taking service.

“This is your employer, the Sicur Philip Fletcher. I have
warranted that he shall find you good and true men, and I
hope you will do justice to my recommendation.”

“We will do our best,” Roger, the eldest of the party, said.
“We are all right glad to be moving again. It is not as if we
had been bred on the soil here, and a man never takes to a
strange place as to one he was born in.”

“You are Gascons, Maitre Bertram tells me?” Philip said.

“Yes, sir; we were driven out from there ten years ago,
when the troubles were at their worst. Our fathers were both
killed, and we travelled with our mothers and sisters by night
through the country till we got to La Rochelle.”

“You say both your fathers. How are you related to each
other ?”

“Jacques and I are brothers,” Roger said, touching the
youngest of the party on his shoulder. ‘Eustace and Henri are
brothers, and are our cousins. Their father and ours were
brothers. When the troubles broke out we four took service
with the Count de Luc, and followed him throughout the war.



44 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

When it was over we came back here. Our mothers had mar-
ried again. Some of our sisters had taken husbands too, others
were in service; therefore we remained here rather than
return to Gascony, where our friends and relations had all been
either killed or dispersed. We were lucky in getting employ-
ment together, but were right glad when we heard that
there was an opening again for service. For the last two years
we have been looking forward to it; for, as everyone sees, it
cannot be long before the matter must be fought out again.
And, in truth, we have been wearying for the time to come;
for after having had a year of fighting one does not settle
down readily to tilling the soil. You will find that you can
rely on us, sir, for faithful service; we all bore a good reputa-
tion as stout fighters, and during the time we were in harness
before we none of us got into trouble for being overfond of the
wine-pots.”

“T think you will suit me very well,” Philip said, “and I
hope that my service will suit you. Although an Englishman
by birth and name, my family have suffered persecution here
as yours have done, and I am as warmly affected to the Hugue-
not cause as yourselves. If there is danger you will not find
me lacking in leading you, and so far as I can I shall try to
make my service a comfortable one and to look after your
welfare. We shall be ready to start in half an hour, therefore
have the horses round at the door in that time. One of the
pillions is to be placed on my own horse. You had better put
the other for the maid behind your saddle, Roger; you being,
I take it, the oldest of your party, had better take charge of
her.” The men saluted and went out.

“J like their looks much,” Philip said to the merchant.
“Stout fellows and cheerful, I should say. Like my aunt I
don’t see why we should carry long faces, Monsieur Bertram,
because we have reformed our réligion, and I believe that a light
heart and good spirits will stand wear and tear better than a
sad visage.”

The four men were no less pleased with their new employer



IN A FRENCH CHATEAU. 45

“That is a lad after my own heart,” Roger said as they went
out. “Quick and alert, pleasant of face, and yet, I will be
bound, not easily turned from what he has set his mind to.
He bears himself well, and I doubt not can use his weapons.
I don’t know what stock he comes from on this side, but I
warrant it is a good one. He will make a good master, lads;
I think that, as he says, he will be thoughtful as to our com-
forts, and be pleasant and cheerful with us; but mind you, he
will expect the work to be done, and you will find that there
is no trifling with him.”

CHAPTER III.
IN A FRENCH CHATEAU.

oe three days’ ride to the chateau of the Countess de
Laville was marked by no incident. To Philip it was
an exceedingly pleasant one—everything was new to him; the
architecture of the churches and villages, the dress of the people,
their modes of agriculture, all differing widely from those to
which he was accustomed. In some villages the Catholics
predominated, and here the passage of the little party was
regarded with frowning brows and muttered threats; by the
Huguenots they were saluted respectfully, and if they halted,
many questions were asked their followers as to news about
the intentions of the court, the last rumours as to the attitude
of Condé, and the prospects of a continuance of peace.

Here, too, great respect was paid to Marie and Philip when
it was known they were relatives of the Countess de Laville,
and belonged to the family of the De Moulins. Emilie had
for some time been a widow; the count, her husband, having
fallen at the battle of Dreux at the end of the year 1562; but
being an active and capable woman, she had taken into her
hands the entire management of the estates, and was one of



46 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

the most influential among the Huguenot nobles of that part
of the country.

From their last halting-place Marie Vaillant sent on a letter
by one of the men to her sister, announcing their coming. She
had written on her landing at La Rochelle, and they had been
met on their way by a messenger from the countess, expressing
her delight that her sister had at last carried out her promise
to visit her, and saying that Francois was looking eagerly for
the coming of his cousin.

The chateau was a semi-fortified building, capable of making
a stout resistance against any sudden attack. It stood on the
slope of a hill, and Philip felt a little awed at its stately aspect
as they approached it. When they were still a mile away
a party of horsemen rode out from the gateway, and in a few
minutes their leader reined up his horse in front of them, and
springing from it advanced towards Philip, who also alighted
and helped his aunt to dismount.

“My dear aunt,” the young fellow said doffing his cap, “1
am come in the name of my mother to greet you, and to tell
you how joyful she is that you have at last come back to us.
This is my Cousin Philip, of course; though you are not what
I expected. to see. My mother told me that you were two
years’ my junior, and J had looked to find you still a boy; but,
by my faith, you seem to be as old as I am. Why, you are
taller by two inches, and broader and stronger too, I should
say. Can it be true that you are but sixteen?”

“That is my age, Cousin Francois, and I am, as you expected,
but a boy yet, and, I can assure you, no taller or broader than
many of my English school-fellows of the same age.”

“But we must not delay, aunt,” Francois said, turning again
to her. ‘My mother’s commands were urgent that I was not
to delay a moment in private talk with you, but to bring you
speedily on to her; therefore I pray you to mount again and
ride on with me, for doubtless she is watching impatiently now,
and will chide me rarely if we linger.”

Accordingly the party remounted at once, and rode forward



IN A FRENCH CHATEAU. 47

to the chateau, A dozen men-at-arms were drawn up at the
gate, and on the steps of the entrance from the courtyard into
the chateau itself the countess was standing. Francois leapt
from his horse, and was by the side of his aunt as Philip reined
in his horse. Taking his hand she sprang lightly from the
saddle, and in a moment the two sisters fell into each others’
arms. It was more than twenty years since they last met, but
time had dealt gently with them both. The countess had
changed least. She was two or three years older than Marie,
was tall, and had been somewhat stately even as a girl. She
had had many cares, but her position had always been assured ;
as the wife of a powerful noble she had been accustomed
to be treated with deference and respect; and although the
troubles of the times and the loss of her husband had left their
marks, she was still a fair and stately woman at the age of
forty-three. Marie, upon the other hand, had lived an un-
troubled life for the past twenty years. She had married a man
who was considered beneath her, but the match had been in
every way a happy one; her husband was devoted to her, and
the expression of her face showed that she was a thoroughly
contented and happy woman.

“You are just what I fancied you would be, Marie, a quiet
little home-bird, living in your nest beyond the sea, and free
from all the troubles and anxieties of our unhappy country.
You have been good to write so often, far better than I have
been, and I seem to know all about your quiet, well-ordered
home, and your good husband and his business that flourishes
so. I thought you were a little foolish in your choice, and that
our father was wrong in mating you as he did; but it has turned
out well, and you have been living in quiet waters while we
have been encountering a sea of troubles. And this tall youth
is our nephew, Philip? I wish you could have brought over
Lucie with you. It would have been pleasant indeed for us
three sisters to be reunited again, if only for a time. Why,
your Philip is taller than Francois, and yet he is two years
younger. I congratulate you and Lucie upon him. Salute me,



48 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

nephew; I had not looked to see so proper a youth. You show
the blood of the De Moulins plainly, Philip. I suppose you
get your height and your strength from your English father?”

“They are big men these English, Emilie, and his father is
big even among them. But, as you say, save in size Philip takes
after our side rather than his father’s ; and of course he has
mixed so much with our colony at Canterbury, that in spite of
his being English bred we have preserved in him something of
the French manner, and I think his heart is fairly divided
between the two countries.”

“Let us go in,” the countess said 3 “you need rest and refresh-
ment after your journey, and I long to have a quiet talk with
you. Frangois, do you take charge of your cousin. I have
told the serving-men to let you have a meal in your own apart-
ments, and then you can show him over the chateau and the
stables.”

Francois and Philip bowed to the two ladies and then went
off together.

“That is good,” the young count said, laying his hand on
Philip’s shoulder; “now we shall get to know each other. You
will not be angry, I hope, when I tell you that though I have
looked forward to seeing my aunt and you, I have yet been a
little anxious in my mind. I do not know why, but I have
always pictured the English as somewhat rough and uncouth—
as doughty fighters, for so they have shown themselves to our
cost, but as somewhat deficient in the graces of manner, and
when IJ heard that my aunt was bringing you over to leave you
for a time with us, since you longed to fight in the good cause,
I have thought—pray, do not be angry with me, for I feel
ashamed of myself now—” and he hesitated.

“That I should be a rough cub, whom you would be somewhat
ashamed of introducing to your friends as your cousin,” Philip
laughed. “Tam not surprised ; English boys have ideas just as
erroneous about the French, and it was a perpetual wonder to
my school-fellows that, being half French, I was yet ag strong
and as tough as they were. Doubtless I should have been some-



IN A FRENCH CHATEAU. 49

what different had I not lived so much with my uncle and
aunt and the Huguenot community at Canterbury. Monsieur
Vaillant and my aunt have always impressed upon me that I
belong to a noble French family, and might some day come
over here to stay with my relations, and have taken much pains
with my deportment and manners, and have so far succeeded
that I am always called ‘Frenchy’ among my English com-
panions, though in their own games and sports I could hold
my own with any of them.”

“And can you ride, Philip?”

“T can sit on any horse, but I have had no opportunity of
learning the ménage.”

“That matters little after all,” Frangois said, “though it is
an advantage to be able to manage your horse with a touch of
the heel or the slightest pressure of the rein, and to make him
wheel and turn at will, while leaving both arms free to use
your weapons. You have learned to fence?”

“Yes; there were some good masters among the colony, and
many a lesson have I had from old soldiers passing through,
who paid for a week’s hospitality by putting me up to a few
tricks with the sword.”

“T thought you could fence,” Francois said. ‘You would
hardly have that figure and carriage unless you had practised
with the sword. And you dance, I suppose; many of our
religion regard such amusement as frivolous if not sinful, but
my mother, although as staunch a Huguenot as breathes, in-
sists upon my learning it, not as an amusement but as an
exercise. There was no reason, she said, why the Catholics
should monopolize all the graces.”

“Yes, I learned to dance, and for the same reason. I think
my uncle rather scandalized the people of our religion in Can-
terbury. He maintained that it was necessary as part of the
education of a gentleman, and that in the English Protestant
court dancing was as highly thought of as in that of France, the
queen herself being noted for her dancing, and none can throw
doubts upon her Protestantism. My mother and aunt were

(777) D



50 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

both against it, but as my father supported my uncle he had
his own way.”

“Well, I see, Philip, that we shall be good comrades. There
are many among us younger Huguenots who, though as staunch
in the religion as our fathers, and as ready to fight and die
for it if need be, yet do not see that it is needful to go about
always with grave faces, and to be cut off from all innocent
amusements. It is our natural disposition to be gay, and I see
not why, because we hold the Mass in detestation, and have
revolted against the authority of the Pope and the abuses of
the church, we should go through life as if we were attending
a perpetual funeral. Unless I am mistaken such is your dis-
position also, for although your face is grave your eyes laugh.”

“T have been taught to bear myself gravely in the presence
of my elders,” Philip replied with a smile; “and truly at Can-
terbury the French colony was a grave one, being strangers in
a strange land; but among my English friends I think I was as
much disposed for a bit of fun or mischief as any of them.”

“But I thought the English were a grave race.”

“T think not, Frangois. We call England ‘Merry England.’
I think we are an earnest people, but not a grave one, English
boys play with all their might. The French boys of the colony
never used to join in our sports, regarding them as rude and
violent beyond all reason; but it is all in good-humour, and
it is rare indeed for anyone to lose his temper, however rough
the play and hard the knocks. Then they are fond of dancing
and singing, save among the strictest sects, and the court is as
gay asany in Europe. I do not think that the English can be
called a grave people.”

“Well, Iam glad that it is so, Philip, especially that you
yourself are not grave. Now, as we have finished our meal,
let us visit the stables. I have a horse already set aside for
you, but I saw as we rode hither that you are already ex-
cellently mounted; still Victor, that is his name, shall be at
your disposal. A second horse is always useful, for shot and
arrows no more spare a horse than his rider.



IN A FRENCH CHATEAU. 51

The stables were large and well ordered, for during the past
two months there had been large additions made by the coun-
tess in view of the expected troubles.

“This is my charger; I call him Rollo. He was bred on the
estate, and when I am upon him I feel that the king is not
better mounted.”

“He is a splendid animal indeed,” Philip said, as Rollo tossed
his head and whinnied with pleasure at his master’s approach.

“He can do anything but talk,” Francois said as he patted
him. ‘He will lie down when I tell him, will come to my
whistle, and with the reins lying loose on his neck will obey
my voice as readily as he would my hand. This is my second
horse, Pluto; he is the equal of Rollo in strength and speed, but
not so docile and obedient, and he has a temper of his own.”

“He looks it,” Philip agreed. “I should keep well out of
reach of his heels and jaws.”

“He is quiet enough when I am on his back,” Francois
laughed; “but I own that he is the terror of the stable-boys.
This is Victor; he is not quite as handsome as Rollo, but he
has speed and courage and good manners.”

“He is a beautiful creature,” Philip said enthusiastically.
“T was very well satisfied with my purchase, but he will not
show to advantage by the side of Victor.”

“Ah, I see they have put him in the next stall,” Francois
said. ‘He is a fine animal too,” he went on after examining
the horse closely. ‘He comes from Gascony, I should say;
he has signs of Spanish blood.”

“Yes, from Gascony or Navarre. I was very fortunate in
getting him,” and he related how the animal had been left at
La Rochelle.

“You got him for less than half his value, Philip. What are
you going to call him?”

“T shall call him Robin; that was the name of my favourite
horse at home. I see you have got some stout animals in
the other stalls, though of course they are of a very different
quality to your own.” ,



52 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“Yes; many of them are new purchases. We have taken
on thirty men-at-arms; stout fellows, old soldiers all, whom my
mother will send into the field if we come to blows. Besides
these there will be some twenty of our tenants. We could
have raised the whole number among them had we chosen; for
if we called up the full strength of the estate, and put all bound
to service in the field in war time, we could turn out fully three
hundred; but of these well-nigh a third are Catholics, and could
not in any way be relied on, nor would it be just to call upon
them to fight against their co-religionists, Again, it would not
do to call out all our Huguenot tenants, for this would leave
their wives and families and homes and property, to say nothing
of the chateau, at the mercy of the Catholics while they were
away. Ido not think that our Catholic tenants would inter-
fere with them, still less with the chateau, for our family have
ever been good masters, and my mother is loved by men of
both parties. Still, bands might come from other districts or
from the towns to pillage or slay were the estate left without
fighting men. ‘Therefore, we have taken these men-at-arms
into our service, with twenty of our own tenants, all young
men belonging to large families, while the rest will remain
behind as a guard for the estate and chateau; and as in all
they could muster some two hundred and fifty strong, and
would be joined by the other Huguenots of the district, they
would not likely be molested, unless one of the Catholic armies
happened to come in this direction.

“Directly I start with the troop the younger sons of the
tenants will be called in to form a garrison here. We have
five-and-thirty names down, and there are twenty men capable
of bearing arms among the household, many of whom have
seen service. Jacques Parold, our seneschal, has been a valiant
soldier in his time, and would make the best of them, and my
mother would assuredly keep our flag flying till the last. I
shall go away in comfort, for unless the Guises march this
way there is little fear of trouble in our absence. We are
fortunate in this province; the parties are pretty evenly divided,



IN A FRENCH CHATEAU. 53

and have a mutual respect for each other. In districts where
we are greatly outnumbered, it is hard for fighting men to
march away with the possibility that on their return they will
find their families murdered and their homes levelled.

“Now we will take a turn round the grounds; their beauty
has been sadly destroyed. You see, before the troubles seven
years ago broke out, there was a view from the windows on
this side of the house over the park and shrubberies, but at
that time my father thought it necessary to provide against
sudden attacks, and therefore before he went away to the war
he had this wall with its flanking towers erected. All the
tenants came in and helped, and it was built in five weeks
time. It has, as you see, made the place safe from a sudden
attack, for on the other three sides the old defences remain
unaltered. It was on this side only that my grandfather had
the house modernized, believing that the days of civil war were
at anend. You see, this new wall forms a large quadrangle.
We call it the countess’s garden, and my mother has done her
best by planting it with shrubs and fast-growing trees to make
up for the loss of the view she formerly had from the windows.

“ Along one side you see there are storehouses, which are
screened from view by that bank of turf; they are all full now of
grain. There is a gate, as you see, opposite. In case of trouble
cattle will be driven in there and the garden turned into a
stock-yard, so that there is no fear of our being starved out.”

“Fifty-five men are a small garrison for so large a place,
Frangois.”

“Yes, but that is only against a sudden surprise. In case
of alarm the Protestant tenants would all come in with their
wives and families, and the best of their horses and cattle, and
then there will be force enough to defend the place against
anything short of a siege by an army. You see there is a moat
runs all round; it is full now on three sides, and there is a little
stream runs down from behind, which would fill the fourth side
in afew hours. To-morrow we will take a ride through the
park which lies beyond that wall.”



54 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

Entering the house they passed through several stately
apartments, and then entered a large hall completely hung
with arms and armour.

“This is the grand hall, and you see it serves also the pur-
pose of a salle @armes. Here we have arms and armour for a
hundred men, for although all the tenants are bound by the
terms of their holding to appear when called upon fully armed
and accoutred, each with so many men according to the size of
his farm, there may well be deficiencies, especially as, until the
religious troubles began, it was a great number of years since
they had been called upon to take the field. For the last
eight years, however, they have been trained and drilled; fifty
ata time coming up once a week. That began two years before
the last war, as my father always held that it was absurd to take
a number of men wholly unaccustomed to the use of arms into
the field. Agincourt taught that lesson to our nobles, though
it has been forgotten by most of them. We have two officers
accustomed to drill and marshal men, and these act as teachers
here in the hall. The footmen practise with pike and sword.
They are exercised with arquebus and cross-bow in the park,
and the mounted men are taught to manoeuvre and charge, so
that in case of need we can show a good face against any
body of troops of equal numbers. It is here I practise with
my maitre darmes, and with Montpace and Bourdon, our two
officers. Ah! here is Charles, my mattre @armes. Charles, this
is my cousin Philip, who will also be a pupil of yours while he
remains here. What do you say, Philip? Will we try a bout
with blunted swords just now?”

“With pleasure,” Philip said.

The art of fencing had not at that time reached the perfec-
tion it afterwards attained. The swords used were long and
straight, and sharpened at both edges, and were used as much
for cutting as thrusting. In single combat on foot, long
daggers were generally held in the left hand, and were used
for the purpose both of guarding and of striking at close
quarters





THE ARMOURY.

PHILTP AND FRANCOIS IN



IN A FRENCH CHATEAU. - 5d

They put on thick quilted doublets and light helmets with
visors.

“Do you use a dagger, Philip?”

“No, I have never seen one used in England. We are
taught to guard with our swords as well as to strike with
them.”

“Monsieur has learned from English teachers?” the mattre
@armes asked.

“T have had English teachers as well as French,” Philip
said. “We all learn the use of the sword in England, but
my uncle, Monsieur Vaillant, has taken great pains in having
me taught also by such French professors of arms as lived in
Canterbury, or happened to pass through it; but I own that
I prefer the English style of fighting. We generally stand
upright to our work, equally poised on the two feet for advance
or retreat, while you lean with the body fax forward and the
arm outstretched, which seems to me to cripple the movements.”

“Yes, but it puts the body out of harm’s way,” Francois said.

“Tt is the arm’s business to guard the body, Francois, and
it is impossible to strike a downright blow when leaning so far
forward.”

“We strike but little now-a-days in single combat,” the
maitre @armes said. ‘The point is more effective.”

“That is doubtless so, Maitre Charles,” Philip agreed; “but
I have not learned fencing for the sake of fighting duels, but
to be able to take my part on a field of battle. The Spaniards
are said to be masters of the straight sword, and yet they
have been roughly used in the western seas by our sailors,
who, methinks, always use the edge.”

The two now took up their position facing each other. Their
attitude was strikingly different. Francois stood on bent
knees leaning far forward, while Philip stood erect with his
knees but slightly bent, ready to spring either forwards or
backwards, with his arm but half extended. For a time both
fought cautiously. Francois had been well taught, having had
the benefit whenever he was in Paris of the best masters



56 sit, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVi.

there. He was extremely active, and as they warmed to their
work Philip had difficulty in standing his ground against his
impetuous rushes. Some minutes passed without either of them
succeeding in touching the other. At length the maitre d’armes
called upon them to lower their swords.

“That is enough,” he said, “you are equally matched. I
congratulate you, Monsieur Philip. You have been well taught;
and indeed there are not many youths of his age who could hold
their own with my pupil. Take off your helmets, enough has
been done for one day.”

“ Peste, Philip!” Francois said as he removed his helmet.
“I was not wrong when I said that from your figure I was
sure that you had learned fencing. Maitre Charles interfered
on my behalf, and to save me the mortification of defeat. I
had nearly shot my bolt and you had scarcely begun. I own
myself a convert. Your attitude is better than ours; that is,
when the hand is skilful enough to defend the body. The
fatigue of holding the arm extended as I do is much greator
than it is as you stand, and in the long run you must get the
better of anyone who is not sufficiently skilful to slay you
before his arm becomes fatigued. What do you think, Maitre
Charles? My cousin is two years younger than I am, and yet
his wrist and arm are stronger than mine, as I could feel every
time he put aside my attacks.”

“Is that so?” the maitre d’armes said in surprise. “I had
taken him for your senior. He will be a famous man-at-arms
when he attains his full age. His defence is wonderfully
strong, and although I do not admit that he is superior
to you with the point, he would be a formidable opponent to
any of our best swordsmen in a mélée. If, as he says, he is
more accustomed to use the edge than the point, I will myself
try him to-morrow if he will permit me. I have always under-
stood that the English are more used to strike than to thrust,
and although in the duel the edge has little chance against the
point, I own that it is altogether different in a mélée on horse-
back, especially as the point cannot penetrate armour. while a



iN A FRENCH CHATEAU. 5Y

stout blow, well delivered with a strong arm, can break it in.
Are you skilled in the exercises of the ring, Monsieur Philip?”

“Not at all, I have had no practise whatever in them.
Except in some of the great houses the tourney has gone
quite out of fashion in England, and though I can ride a horse
across country I know nothing whatever of knightly exercises.
My father is but a small proprietor, and up to the time I left
England I have been but a school-boy.”

“Tf all your school-boys understand the use of their arms as
you do,” Maitre Charles said courteously, “it is no wonder
that the English are terrible fighters.”

“T do not say that,” Philip said smiling. “I have had the
advantage of the best teaching, both English and French, to
be had at Canterbury, and it would be a shame for me indeed
if I had not learnt to defend myself.”

A servant now entered and said that the countess desired
their presence, and they at once went to the apartment where
the sisters were talking.

“What do you think, mother?” Frangois said. “This cousin
of mine, whom I had intended to patronize, turns out to be
already a better swordsman than I am.”

“Not better, madame,” Philip said hastily. ‘We were a
fair match, neither having touched the other.”

“Philip is too modest, mother,” Francois laughed. “ Maitre
Charles stopped us in time to save me from defeat. Why, he
has a wrist like iron, this cousin of mine.’

“We have done our best to have him well taught,” Madame
Vaillant said. ‘There were some good swordsmen among our
Huguenot friends, and he has also had the best English teachord
we could get for him. My husband always wished particularly
that if he ever came over to visit our friends here he should
not be deficient in such matters.”

“T feel a little-crestfallen,” the countess said. ‘I have been
rather proud of Francois’ skill as a swordsman, and I own that
it is a little mortifying to find that Philip, who is two years
younger, is already his match. Still I am glad that it is so, for



58 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

if they ride together into battle I should wish that Philip
should do honour to our race. Now, Philip, I have been hear-
ing all about your mother’s life, as well as that of your uncle
and aunt. Now let us hear about your own, which must needs
differ widely from that to which Frangois has been accustomed.
Your aunt says that your English schools differ altogether from
ours. With us our sons are generally brought up at home, and
are instructed by the chaplain in Huguenot families or by the
priest in Catholic families; or else they go to religious seminaries,
where they are taught what is necessary of books and Latin,
being under strict supervision, and learning all other matters
such as the use of arms after leaving school, or when at home
with their families.”

Philip gave an account of his school life, and its rough games
and sports.

“But is it possible, Philip,” the countess said in tones of
horror, “that you used to wrestle and to fight? Fight with
your arms and fists against rough boys, the sons of all sorts of
common people?”

“Certainly I did, aunt, and it did me a great deal of good,
and no harm so far as I know. All these rough sports strengthen
the frame and give quickness and vigour, just the same as
exercises with the sword do. I should never have been so tall
and strong as I am now, if, instead of going to an English school,
J had been either, as you say, educated at home by a chaplain
or sent to be taught and looked after by priests. My mother
did not like it at first, but she came to see that it was good
for me. Besides, there is not the same difference between
classes in England as there is in France; there is more inde-
pendence in the lower and middle classes, and less haughtiness
and pride in the upper, and I think that it is better so.”

“Jt is the English custom, Emilie,” her sister said; “and
T can assure you that my husband and I have got very English
in some things. We do not love our country less, but we see
that in many respects the English ways are better than ours;
and-we admire the independence of the people, every man



IN A FRENCH CHATEAU. 59

respecting himself, though giving honour, but not lavishly,
to those higher placed.”

The countess shrugged her shoulders. “ We will not argue,
Marie. At any rate whatever the process, it has succeeded well
with Philip.”

The days passed quietly at the chateau. Before breakfast
Philip spent an hour on horseback, learning to manage his
horse by the pressure of knee or hand, This was the more
easy, as both his horses had been thoroughly trained in the
ménage, and under the instruction of Captain Montpace, who
had been Francois’ teacher, he made rapid progress,

“It is much easier to teach the man than the horse,” his
instructor said, “ although a horse learns readily enough
when its rider is a master of the art; but with horse and
rider alike ignorant it is a long business to get them to work
together as if they were one, which is what should be. As
both your horses know their work, they obey your motions,
however slight, and you will soon be able to pass muster on
their backs; but it would take months of patient teaching for
You so to acquire the art of horsemanship as to be able to
train an animal yourself,”

After the lesson was over Frangois and Philip would tilt at
rings and go through other exercises in the courtyard. Break-
fast over they went hawking or hunting. Of the former sport
Philip was entirely ignorant, and was surprised to learn how
highly a knowledge of it was prized in France, and how neces-
sary it was considered as part of the education of a gentleman.
Upon the other hand his shooting with the bow and arrow
astonished Francois; for the bow had never been a French
Weapon, and the cross-bow was fast giving way to the arquebus,
but few gentlemen troubled themselves to learn the use of
either one or the other. The pistol, however, was becoming
4 recognized portion of the outfit of a cavalier in the field, and
following Francois’ advice Philip practised with one steadily
until he became a fair shot,

“They are cowardly weapons,” Francois said, “but for all



60 Sf. BARTHOLOMEWS EVE.

that they are useful in battle. When you are surrounded by
three or four pikemen thrusting at you, it is a good thing to
be able to disembarrass yourself of one or two of them. Be-
sides, these German horsemen, of whom the Guises employ so
many, all carry firearms, and the contest would be too uneven
if we were armed only with the sword; though for my part I
wish that all the governments of Europe would agree to do away
with firearms of every description. They place the meanest
footman upon the level of the bravest knight, and in the end
will, it seems to me, reduce armies to the level of machines.”

In the afternoons there were generally gatherings of Huguenot
gentry, who came to discuss the situation, to exchange news,
or to listen to the last rumours from Paris. No good had arisen
from the Conference of Bayonne, and one by one the privileges
of the Huguenots were being diminished. The uprising of the
Protestants of Holland was watched with the greatest interest
by the Huguenots of France. It was known that several of the
most influential Huguenot nobles had met at Valery and at
Chatillon, to discuss with the Prince of Condé and Admiral
Coligny the question of again taking up arms in defence of
their liberties. It was rumoured that the opinion of the majo-
rity was that the Huguenot standard should be again unfurled,
and that this time there should be no laying down of their arms
until freedom of worship was guaranteed to all; but that the
admiral had used all his powers to persuade them that the
time had not yet come, and that it was better to bear trials
and persecutions for a time in order that the world might see
they had not appealed to arms until driven to it by the failure
of all other hope of redress of their grievances.

The elder men among the visitors at the chateau were of
the admiral’s opinion; the younger chafed at the delay. The
position had indeed become intolerable. Protestant worship
was absolutely forbidden, except in a few specified buildings
near some of the large towns, and all Protestants save those
dwelling in these localities were forced to meet secretly, and
at the risk of their lives, for the purpose of worship. Those



IN A FRENCH CHATEAU. 61

caught transgressing the law were thrown into prison, subjected
to crushing fines, and even punished with torture and death.
“Better a thousand times to die with swords in our hands in
the open field than thus tamely to see our brethren ill-treated
and persecuted!’’ was the cry of the young men, and Philip,
who from daily hearing tales of persecution and cruelty had
become more and more zealous in the Huguenot cause, fully
shared their feeling,

In the presence of the elders, however, the more ardent
spirits were silent. At all times grave and sober in manner
and word, the knowledge that a desperate strugele could not
long be deferred, and the ever-increasing encroachments of the
Catholics, added to the gravity of their demeanour. Some-
times those present broke up into groups, talking in an under-
tone. Sometimes the gathering took the form of a general
council. Occasionally some fugitive minister or a noble from
some district where the persecution was particularly fierce
would be present, and their narratives would be listened to
with stern faces by the elders, and with passionate indignation
by the younger men. In spite of the decrees the countess still
retained her chaplain, and before the meetings broke up prayers
were offered by him for their persecuted brethren, and for
a speedy deliverance of those of the reformed religion from the
cruel disabilities under which they laboured.

Services were held night and morning in the chateau. These
were attended not only by all the residents, but by many of
the farmers and their families. The countess had already
received several warnings from the Catholic authorities of the
province; but to these she paid no attention, and there were
no forces available to enforce the decree in her case, as it would
require nothing short of an army to overcome the opposition
that might be expected, joined as she would be by the other
Huguenot gentry of the district



62 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

CHAPTER IV.
AN EXPERIMENT.

h ARIE VAILLANT, after remaining six weeks at the

chateau, returned to England, and Philip with a party
of twelve men escorted her to La Rochelle. Her visit was cut
short somewhat at the end by the imminence of the outbreak
of hostilities, in which case she might have found a difficulty in
traversing the country. Moreover, La Rochelle would probably
be besieged soon after the war began; for being both an impor-
tant town and port the Catholics would be anxious to obtain
possession of it, and so cut off the Huguenots from escape to
England, besides rendering it difficult for Elizabeth to send a
force to their assistance.

“It has been a pleasant time,” the countess said on the
morning of her departure, “and your presence has taken me
back five-and-twenty years, Marie. I hope that when these
troubles are past you will again come over and spend a happier
time with me. I was going to say that I will look well
after Philip, but that I cannot do. He has cast his lot in with
us and must share our perils. I am greatly pleaséd with him,
and Iam glad that Francois will have him as a companion in
arms. Francois is somewhat impulsive and liable to be carried
away by his ardour, and Philip, although the younger, is, it
seems to me, the more thoughtful of the two. He is one I feel
I can have confidence in. He is grave, yet merry; light-hearted
in a way, and yet, I think, prudent and cautious. It seems
strange, but I shall part with Francois with the more comfort
in the thought that he has Philip with him. Don’t come back
more English than you are now, Marie, for truly you seem to
me to have fallen in love with the ways of these islanders.”

“T will try not to, Emilie; but I should not like the customs
did it not seem to me that they are better than my own. In
England Protestants and Catholics live side by side in friend-



AN EXPERIMENT. 63

ship, and there is no persecution of anyone for his religion; the
Catholics who have suffered during the present reign have done
so not because they are Catholics, but because they plotted
against the queen. Would that in France men would agree to
worship, each in his own way, without rancour or animosity.”

“Tell Lucie that I am very sorry she did not come over with
you and Philip, and that it is only because you tell me how
occupied she is that I am not furiously angry with her. Tell
her, too,” she went on earnestly, “that I feel she is one of us,
still a Huguenot, a F renchwoman, and one of our race, or she
would never have allowed her only son to come over to risk
his life in our cause. I consider her a heroine, Marie. It is
all very well for me whose religion is endangered, whose friends
are in peril, whose people are persecuted, to throw myself into
the strife and to send Frangois into the battle; but with her,
working there with an invalid husband, and her heart, as it
must be, wrapped up in her boy, it is splendid to let him come
out here to fight side by side with us for the faith. Whose
idea was it first?”

“My husband’s. Gaspard regards Philip almost in the light
ofason. He isa rich man now, as I told you, and Philip will
become his heir. Though he has no desire that he should settle
in France, he wished him to take his place.in our family here,
to show himself worthy of his race, to become a brave soldier,
to win credit and honour, and to take his place perhaps some
day in the front rank of the gentry of Kent.”

“They were worldly motives, Marie, and our ministers
would denounce them as sinful ; but I cannot doso. I ama
Huguenot, but I am a countess of France, a member of one
noble family and married into another; and though, I believe,
as staunch a Huguenot and as ready to lay down my life for
our religion as any man or woman in France, yet I cannot give
up all the traditions of my rank, and hold that fame and honour
and reputation and courage are mere snares. But such were
not Lucie’s feelings in letting him go, I will be bound, nor
yours,”



64 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

‘Mine partly,” Marie said. “I am the wife now of a trader,
though one honoured in his class, but have still a little of
your feelings, Emilie, and remember that the blood of the De
Moulins runs in Philip’s veins, and hope that he will do credit
to it. Idon’t think that Lucie has any such feelings. She is
wrapt up in duty—first her duty to God, secondly her duty
to her crippled husband, whom she adores; and I think she
regarded the desire of Philip to come out to fight in the
Huguenot ranks as a call that she ought not to oppose. I know
she was heart-broken at parting with him, and yet she never
showed it. Lucie is a noble character. Everyone who knows
her loves her. I believe the very farm labourers would give
their lives for her, and a more utterly unselfish creature never
lived.”

“Well, she must take a holiday and come over with you
next time you come, Marie. I hope that these troubles may
soon be over, though that is a thing one cannot foretell.”

After seeing his aunt safely on board a ship at La Rochelle
Philip prepared to return to the chateau. He and his aunt
had stayed two nights at the house of Maitre Bertram, and on
his returning there the latter asked, “Have you yet found a
suitable servant, Monsieur Philip?”

‘“‘No; my cousin has been inquiring among the tenantry,
but the young men are all bent on fighting, and indeed there
are none of them who would make the sort of servant one
wants in a campaign—a man who can not only groom horses
and clean arms, but who knows something of war, can forage
for provisions, cook, wait at table, and has intelligence. One
wants an old soldier; one who has served in tho same capacity
if possible.”

“T only asked because I have had a man pestering me to
speak to you about him. He happened to sce you ride off
when you were here last, and apparently became impressed
with the idea that you would be a good master, He is a
cousin of one of my men, and heard I suppose from him that
you were likely to return. He has been to me three or four



AN EXPERIMENT. 65

times. I have told him again and again that he was not the
sort of man I could recommend, but he persisted in begging
me to let him see you himself.”

“What sort of a fellow is he?”

“Well, to tell you the truth he is a sort of ne’er-do-well,”
the merchant laughed. “I grant that he has not had much
chance. His father died when he was a child, and his mother
soon married again. There is no doubt that he was badly
treated at home, and when he was twelve he ran away. He
was taken back and beaten time after time, but in a few hours
he was always off again, and at last they let him go his own way.
There is nothing he hasn’t turned his hand to. First he lived
in the woods, I fancy, and they say he was the most arrant
young poacher in the district, though he was so cunning that
he was never caught. At last he had to give that up. Then
he fished for a bit, but he couldn’t stick to it. He has been
always doing odd jobs, turning his hand to whatever turned
up. He worked in a shipyard for a bit, then I took him as a
sort of errand-boy and porter. He didn’t stop long, and the next
I heard of him he was servant ata priest’s. He has been a dozen
other things, and for the last three or four months he has been
in the stables where your horse was standing. I fancy you
saw him there. Some people think he is half a fool, but I
don’t agree with them; he is as sharp as a needle to my mind.
But, as I say, he has never had a fair chance. A. fellow like
that without friends is sure to get roughly treated.”

“Ts he a young man of about one or two and twenty?”
Philip asked. “I remember a fellow of about that age brought
out the horse, and as he seemed to me a shrewd fellow, and
had evidently taken great pains in grooming Robin, I gave him
acrown. I thought he needed it, for his clothes were old and
tattered, and he looked as if he hadn’t had a hearty meal for a
week. Well, Maitre Bertram, can you tell me if among his
other occupations he has ever been charged with theft?”

“No, I have never heard that brought against him.”

“Why did he leave you?”

(777) E



66 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“Tt was from no complaint as to his honesty. Indeed he
left of his own accord after a quarrel with one of the men, who
was, as far as I could learn, in the wrong. I did not even hear
that he had left until a week after, and it was too late then to
go thoroughly into the matter. Boys are always troublesome,
and as everyone had warned me that Pierre would turn out
badly I gave the matter but little thought at the time. Of
course you will not think of taking the luckless rascal as your
servant.”

“T don’t know. I will have a talk with him anyhow. A
fellow like that would certainly be handy, but whether he
could be relied upon to behave discreetly and soberly and not
to bring me into discredit is a different matter. Is he here
now?”

“He is below. Shall I send him up here to you?”

“No, I will go down and see him in the courtyard. If he
comes up here he would be perhaps awkward and unnatural,
and would not speak so freely as he would in the open air.”

The merchant shook his head. “If you take the vagabond,
remember, Monsieur Philip, thatitisaltogether againstmy advice.
I would never have spoken to you about him if I had imagined
for a moment that you would think of taking him. A fellow
who has never kept any employment for two months, how
could he be fit for a post of confidence and be able to mix as
your body-servant with the households of honourable families,”

“But you said yourself, Maitre Bertram, that he has never
had a fair chance. Well, I will see him anyhow.”

He descended into the courtyard, and could not help smiling
as his eye fell upon a figure seated on the horse-block. He
was looking out through the gateway, and did not at first see
Philip. The expression of his face was dull and almost
melancholy, but as Philip’s eye fell on him his attention was
attracted by some passing object in the street. His face lit
up with amusement, his lips twitched and his eyes twinkled.
A moment later and the transient humour passed, and the
dull, listless expression again stole over his face.



AN EXPERIMENT. 67

“Pierre!” Philip said sharply. The young fellow started to
his feet as if shot upwards by a spring, and as he turned and
saw who had addressed him, took off his cap, and bowing stood
twisting it round in his fingers. ‘‘ Monsieur Bertram tells me
you want to come with me as a servant, Pierre; but when I
asked him about you he does not give you such a character as
one would naturally require in a confidential servant. Is there
anyone who will speak for you?”

“Not asoul,” the young man said doggedly; “and yet, mon-
sieur, I am not a bad fellow. What can a man do when he has
not a friend in the world? He picks up a living as he can,
but everybody looks at him with suspicion. There is no friend
to take his part, and so people vent their ill-humours upon
him, till the time comes when he revolts at the injustice and
strikes back, and then he has to begin it all over again some-
where else. And yet, sir, I know that I could be faithful and
true to anyone who would not treat me like a dog. You spoke
kindly to me in the stable, and gave me a crown; no one had
ever given me a crown before. But I cared less for that than
for the way you spoke. Then I saw you start, and you spoke
pleasantly to your men, and I said to myself, that is the master
I would serve if he would let me. Try me, sir, and if you do
not find me faithful, honest, and true to you, tell your men
to string me up to a bough. I do not drink, and have been in
so many services that, ragged as you see me, I can yet behave
so as not to do discredit to you.”

Philip hesitated. There was no mistaking the earnestness
with which the youth spoke.

“ Are you a Catholic or a Huguenot?” he asked.

“T know nothing of the difference between them,” Pierre
replied. ‘“Howshould I? No one has ever troubled about me
one way or the other. When my mother lived I went to Mass
with her; since then I have gone nowhere. I have had no
Sunday clothes. I know that the bon Diew has taken care of
me or I should have died of hunger long ago. The priest I
was with used to tell me that the Huguenots were worse than



68 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

heathen; but if that were so, why should they let themselves
be thrown into prison, and even be put to death, rather than stay
away from their churches. As for me, I know nothing about it.
They say monsieur is a Huguenot, and if he were good enough
to take me into his service, of course I should be a Huguenot.”

“That is a poor reason, Pierre,” Philip said smiling. “Still,
you may find better reasons in time. However, you are not a
Catholic, which is the principal thing at present. Well, I will
try you, I think. Perhaps, as you say, you have never had a
fair chance yet, and I will give you one. I believe what you
say, that you will be faithful.”

The young fellow’s face lit wp with pleasure.

“T will be faithful, sir. If I were otherwise I should deserve
to be cut in pieces.”

“As for wages,” Philip said, “I will pay you what you
deserve. We will settle that when we see how we get on
together. Now follow me and I will get some suitable clothes
for you.”

There was no difficulty about this; clothes were not made
to fit closely in those days, and Philip soon procured a couple
of suits suitable for the serving-man of a gentleman of condition.
One was a riding-suit, with high boots, doublet, and trunks of
sober colour and of a strong tough material; a leather sword-
belt and sword, and a low hat thickly lined and quilted and
capable of resisting a heavy blow. The other suit was for wear
in the house; it was of dark-green cloth of a much finer texture
than the riding-suit, with cloth stockings of the same colour
coming up above the knee, and then meeting the trunks or
puffed breeches. A small cap with turned-up brim, furnished
with a few of the tail feathers of a black-cock, completed the
costume; a dagger being worn in the belt instead of the sword.
Four woollen shirts, a pair of shoes, and a cloak were added to
the purchases, which were placed in a valise to be carried
behind the saddle.

“Is there any house where you can change your clothes,
Pierre? Of course you could do so at Monsieur Bertram’s, but



AN EXPERIMENT. 69

some of the men I brought with me will be there, and it would
be just as well that they did not see you in your present attire.”

“T can change at the stables, sir, if you will trust me with
the clothes.”

“Certainly, I will trust you. If I trust you sufficiently to
take you as my servant, I can surely trust you in a matter
like this. Do you know of anyone who has a stout nag for
sale?”

Pierre knew of several, and giving Philip an address the
latter was not long in purchasing one, with saddle and bridle
complete. He ordered this to be sent at once to the stables
where Pierre had been employed, with directions that it was
to be handed over to his servant.

It was one o’clock in the day when Madame Vaillant em-
barked, and it was late in the afternoon before Philip returned
to Monsieur Bertram’s house.

“What have you done about that vagabond Pierre?”

“T have hired him,” Philip said.

“You don’t say that you have taken him after what I have
told you about him!” the merchant exclaimed.

“T have, indeed. He pleaded hard for a trial, and I am
going to give him one. I believe that he will turn out a useful
fellow. I am sure that. he is shrewd, and he ought to be full of
expedients. As to his appearance, good food and decent clothes
will make him another man. I think he will turn out a merry
fellow when he is well fed and happy; and I must say, Maitre
Bertram, that I am not fond of long faces. Lastly, I believe
that he will be faithful.”

“Well, well, well, I wash my hands of it altogether, Mon-
sieur Philip. JI am sorry I spoke to you about him, but I
never for a moment thought you would take him. If harm
comes of it don’t blame me.”

“T will hold you fully acquitted,” Philip laughed. “I own
that I have taken quite a fancy to him, and believe that he
will turn out well.”

An hour later one of the domestics came in with word that



70 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

Monsieur Philip’s servant was below, and wished to know if he
had any commands for him.

“Tell him to come up,” Philip said, and a minute later
Pierre entered. He was dressed in his dark-green costume. He
had had his hair cut, and presented an appearance so changed
that Philip would hardly have known him.

“ By my faith!” the merchant said, “you have indeed trans-
formed him. He is not a bad-looking varlet, now that he has
got rid of that tangled crop of hair.”

Pierre bowed low at the compliment.

“Fine feathers make fine birds, Monsieur Bertram,” replied
Pierre. “It is the first time I have had the opportunity of
proving the truth of the proverb. I am greatly indebted to
monsieur for recommending me to my master.”

“Tt is not much recommendation you got from me, Pierre,”
the merchant said bluntly; “for a more troublesome young
scamp I never had in my warehouse. Still, as I told Monsieur
Philip, I think everything has been against you, and I do hope
now that this English gentleman has given you a chance that
you will take advantage of it.” :

“‘T mean to, sir,” the young fellow said earnestly, and without
a trace of the mocking smile with which he had first spoken.
“Tf I do not give my master satisfaction it will not be for want
of trying. I shall make mistakes at first—it will all be strange
to me, but I feel sure that he will make allowances. I can at
least promise that he will find me faithful and devoted.”

“Tas your horse arrived, Pierre?”

“Yes, sir. I saw him watered and fed before I came out,
Is it your wish that I should go round to the stables where
your horse and those of your troop are, and take charge of
your horse at once?”

“No, Pierre; the men will look after him as usual. We will
start at six in the morning. Be at the door on horseback at
that hour.”

Pierre bowed and withdrew.

“T do not feel so sure as I did that you have made a bad



AN EXPERIMENT. 71

bargain, Monsieur Philip. As far as appearances go at any
rate, he would pass muster. Except that his cheeks want
filling out a bit, he is animble, active-looking young fellow, and
with that little moustache of his and his hair cut short he is by
no means ill-looking. I really should not have known him. I
think at present he means what he says, though whether he
will stick to it is another matter altogether.”

“T think he will stick to it,” Philip said quietly. “Putting
aside what he says about being faithful to me, he is shrewd
enough to see that it is a better chance than he is ever likely
to have again of making a start in life. He has been leading
a dog’s life ever since he was a child, and to be well fed and
well clothed and fairly treated will be a wonderful change for
him. My only fear is that he may get into some scrape at the
chateau. I believe that he is naturally full of fun, and fun is
a thing that the Huguenots, with all their virtues, hardly ap-
preciate.”

“A good thrashing will tame him of that,” the merchant
said.

Philip laughed. ‘I don’t think I shall be driven to try that.
I don’t say that servants are never thrashed in England, but 1
have not been brought up among the class who beat their
servants. I think I shall be able to manage him without that.
If I can’t we must part. I suppose there is no doubt, Monsieur
Bertram, how La Rochelle will go when the troubles begin?”

“T think not. All preparations are made on our part, and
as soon as the news comes that Condé and the Admiral have
thrown their flags to the wind, we shall seize the gates, turn
out all who oppose us, and declare for the cause. I do not
think it can be much longer delayed. I sent a trusty servant
yesterday to fetch back my daughter, who, as I told you, has
been staying with a sister of mine five or six leagues away. I
want to have her here before the troubles break out. It will
be no time for damsels to be wandering about the country
when swords are once out of their scabbards.”

The next morning the little troop started early from La



72 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

Rochelle, Pierre riding gravely behind Philip. The latter
presently called him up to his side.

“T suppose you know the country round here well?”

“Every foot of it. Idon’t think that there isa pond in which
T have not laid my lines, not astreamlet of which I do not know
every pool, not a wood that I have not slept in nor a hedge
where I have not laid snares for rabbits. I could find my way
about as well by night as by day; and you know, sir, that may
be of use if you ever want to send a message into the town
when the Guises have got their troops lying outside.”

Philip looked sharply at him. “Oh, you think it likely that
the Guises will soon be besieging La Rochelle?”

“Anyone who keeps his ears open can learn that,” Pierre
said quietly. ‘I haven’t troubled myself about these matters.
It made no difference to me whether the Huguenots or the
Catholics were in the saddle; still, one doesn’t keep one’s cars
closed, and people talk freely enough before me. ‘Pierre does
not concern himself with these things; the lad is half a fool; he
pays no attention to what is being said;’ so they would go on
talking, and I would go on rubbing down a horse or eating my
black bread with a bit of cheese or an onion, or whatever I
might be about, and looking as if I did not even know they
were there. But I gathered that the Catholics think that
the Guises and Queen Catharine and Philip of Spain and the
Pope are going to put an end to the Huguenots altogether.
From those on the other side I learned that the Huguenots
will take the first step in La Rochelle, and that one fine morning
the Catholics are likely to find themselves bundled out of it.
Then it doesn’t need much sense to see that ere long we shall
be having a Catholic army down here to retake the place, that
is if the Huguenot lords are not strong enough to stop them
on their way.”

“And you think the Catholics are not on their guard at all?”

“Not they,” Pierre said contemptuously. ‘They have been
strengthening the walls and building fresh ones, thinking that
an attack might come from without from the Huguenots,



AN EXPERIMENT. 13

and all the time the people of that religion in the town have
been laughing in their sleeves and pretending to protest against
being obliged to help at the new works, but really paying and
working willingly. Why, they even let the magistrates arrest
and throw into prison a number of their party without saying
a word, so that the priests and the commissioners should
think they have got it entirely their own way. It has been
fun watching it all, and I had made up my mind to take to
the woods again directly it began. I had no part in the
play, and did not wish to run any risk of getting a ball through
my head, whether from a Catholic or a Huguenot arquebus.
Now of course it is all different. Monsieur is a Huguenot,
and therefore soam I. It is the Catholic bullets that will be
shot at me, and as no one likes to be shot at I shall soon hate
the Catholics cordially, and shall be ready to do them any ill-
turn that you may desire.”

“And you think that if necessary, Pierre, you could carry
a message into the town, even though the Catholics were camped
round it.”

Pierre nodded. “I have never seen a siege, master, and
don’t know how close the soldiers might stand round a town;
but I think that if a rabbit could get through I could, and if
T could not get in by land I could manage somchow to get in
by water.”

“But such matters as this do not come within your service,
Pierre. Your duties are to wait on me when not in the
field, to stand behind my chair at meals, and to see that my
horses are well attended to by the stable varlets. When we
take the field you will not be wanted to fight, but will look
after my things; will buy food and cook it, get dry clothes
ready for me to put on if I come back soaked with rain, and
keep an eye upon my horses. ‘Two of the men-at-arms will
have special charge of them; they will groom and feed them.
But if they are away with me they cannot see after getting
forage for them, and it will be for you to get hold of that,
either by buying it from the villagers or employing a man to



74 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

cut it. At any rate to see that there is food for them as well
as for me when the day’s work is over.”

“T understand that, master; but there are times when a lad
who can look like a fool but is not altogether one can carry
messages and make himself very useful, if he does not place
over much value on his life. When you want anything done,
no matter what it is, you have only to tell me, and it will be
done if it is possible.”

In the afternoon of the second day after starting they ap-
proached the chateau. The old sergeant of the band, who with
two of his men was riding a hundred yards ahead, checked his
horse and rode back to Philip.

“There is something of importance doing, Monsieur Philip;
the flag is flying over the chateau. I have not seen it hoisted
before since my lord’s death, and I can make out horsemen
galloping to and from the gates.”

“We will gallop on then,” Philip said, and in ten minutes
they arrived. Francois ran down the steps as Philip alighted
in the courtyard.

“T am glad you have come, Philip. I had already given
orders for a horseman to ride to meet you, and tell you to
hurry on. The die is cast at last. There was a meeting
yesterday at the Admiral’s; a messenger came to my mother
from my cousin, Francois de la Notie. The Admiral and Condé
had received news from a friend at court that there had been
a secret meeting of the Royal Council, and that it had been
settled that the Prince should be thrown into prison and Coligny
executed. ‘The Swiss troops were to be divided between Paris,
Orleans, and Poitiers. The edict of toleration was to be
annulled, and instant steps taken to suppress Huguenot worship
by the sternest measures. In spite of this news the Admiral
still urged patience; but his brother, D’Andelot, took the lead
among the party of action, and pointed out that if they waited
until they, the leaders, were all dragged away to prison, resist-
ance by the Huguenots would be hopeless. Since the last war
over three thousand Huguenots had been put to violent deaths.



AN EXPERIMENT. = 15

Was this number to be added to indefinitely? Were they to
wait until their wives and children were in the hands of the
executioners before they moved? His party were in the ma-
jority, and the Admiral reluctantly yielded. Then there was
a discussion as to the steps to be taken. Some proposed the
seizure of Orleans and other large towns, and that with these
in their hands they should negotiate with the court for the dis-
missal of the Swiss troops, as neither toleration nor peace could
be hoped for as long as this force was at the disposal of the
Cardinal of Lorraine and his brothers.

“This council, however, was overruled. It was pointed out
that at the beginning of the last war the Huguenots held fully
a hundred towns, but nearly all were wrested from their hands
before its termination. It was finally resolved that all shall
be prepared for striking a heavy blow, and that the rising shall
be arranged to take place throughout France on the 29th of
September. That an army shall take the field, disperse the
Swiss, seize if possible the Cardinal of Lorraine, and at any rate
petition the king for a redress of grievances, for a removal of
the Cardinal from his councils, and for sending all foreign troops
out of the kingdom. We have, you see, a fortnight to prepare.
We have just sent out messengers to all our Huguenot friends,
warning them that the day is fixed, that their preparations are
to be made quietly, and that we will notify them when the
hour arrives. ‘All are exhorted to maintain an absolute silence
upon the subject, while seeing that their tenants and retainers
are in all respects ready to take the field.”

“Why have you hoisted your flag, Francois? That will only
excite attention.”

“It is my birthday, Philip, and the flag is supposed to be
raised in my honour, This will serve as an excuse for the
assemblage of our friends, and the gathering of the tenants.
It has been arranged, as you know, that I, and of course you, are
to ride with De la Noiie, who is a most gallant gentleman, and
that our contingent is to form part of his command. I am
heartily glad this long suspense is over, and that at last we are



76 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

going to meet the treachery of the court by force. Too long
have we remained passive, while thousands of our friends have
in defiance of the edicts been dragged to prison and put to
death. Fortunately the court is, as it was before the last war,
besotted with the belief that we are absolutely powerless, and
we have every hope of taking them by surprise.”

“T also am glad that war has been determined upon,” Philip
said. “Since I have arrived here I have heard nothing but
tales of persecution and cruelty. I quite agree with you that
the time has come when the Huguenots must either fight for
their rights, abandon the country altogether and go into exile,
as so many have already done, or renounce their religion.”

“I see you have a new servant, Philip. He is an active,
likely-looking lad, but rather young. He can know nothing
of campaigning.”

“I believe he is a very handy fellow, with plenty of sense
and shrewdness; and if he can do the work, I would rather
have a man of that age than an older one. _ It is different with
you. You are Francois, Count de Laville, and your servant
whatever his age would hold you in respect; I am younger and
of far less consequence, and an old servant might want to take
me under his tuition. Moreover, if there is hard work to be
done for me I would rather have a young fellow like this doing
it than an older man.”

“You are always making out that you are a boy, Philip.
You don’t look it, and you are going to play a man’s part.”

“T mean to play it as far as I can, Francois; but that does
not really make me a day older.”

‘Well, mind, not a word to a soul as to the day fixed on.”

For the next fortnight the scene at the chatcau was a busy
one. Huguenot gentlemen came and went. The fifty men-at-
arms who were to accompany Francois were inspected, and
their arms and armour served out to them. The tenantry came
up in small parties, and were also provided with weapons, offen-
sive and defensive, from the armoury, so that they might be
in readiness to assemble for the defence of the chateau at the



AN EXPERIMENT, 77

shortest notice. All were kept in ignorance as to what was
really going on; but it was felt that a crisis was approaching,
and there was an expression of grim satisfaction on the stern
faces of the men that showed they rejoiced at the prospect of a
termination to the long passive suffering which they had borne
at the hands of the persecutors of their faith. Hitherto they
themselves had suffered but little, for the Huguenots were strong
in the south of Poitou, while in N iort, the nearest town to the
chateau, the Huguenots, if not in an absolute majority, were far
too strong to be molested by the opposite party. Nevertheless
here, and in all other towns, public worship was suspended, and
it was only in the chateaux and castles of the nobles that the
Huguenots could gather to worship without fear of interruption
or outrage. There was considerable debate as to whether
Francois’ troop should march to join the Admiral at Chatillon-
sur-Loing, or should proceed to the south-east, where parties
were nearly equally balanced ; but the former course was decided
upon. The march itself would be more perilous, but as Condé,
the Admiral, and his brother D’Andelot would be with the
force gathered there, it was the most important point; and
moreover Irancois de la Noiie would be there.

So well was the secret of the intended movement kept, that
the French court, which was at Meaux, had no idea of the
danger that threatened, and when a report of the intentions of
the Huguenots came from the Netherlands, it was received
with incredulity. A spy was, however, sent to Chatillon to
report upon what the Admiral was doing, and he returned with
the news that he was at home, and was busily occupied in
superintending his vintage.

On the evening of the 26th the troop, fifty strong, mustered
in the courtyard of the chateau. All were armed with breast
and back pieces and steel caps, and carried lances as well as
swords. In addition to this troop were Philip’s four men-at-
arms, and four picked men, who were to form Francois’ body-
guard, one of them carrying his banner. He took as his body-
servant a man who had served his father in that capacity. He



78 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

and Pierre wore lighter armour than the others, and carried
no lances. Francois and Philip were both in complete armour,
Philip donning for the first time that given to him by his uncle.

Neither of them carried lances, but were armed with swords,
light battle-axes, and pistols. Before mounting service was
held; the pastor offered up prayers for the blessing of God
upon their arms, and’ for his protection over each and all of
them in the field. The countess herself made them a stirring
address, exhorting them to remember that they fought for the
right to worship God unmolested, and for the lives of those
dear to them. Then she tenderly embraced her son and Philip,
the trumpets sounded to horse, and the party rode out from
the gates of the chateau. As soon as they were away the two
young leaders took off their helmets and handed them to their
attendants, who rode behind them. Next to these came their
eight body-guards, who were followed by the captain and his
troop.

“Tt may be that this armour will be useful on the day of
battle,” Philip said, “but at present it seems to me, Francois,
that I would much rather be without it.”

“I quite agree with you, Philip. If we had only to fight
with gentlemen, armed with swords, I would gladly go into
battle unprotected; but against men with lances, one needs a
defence. However, I do not care so much now that I have
got rid of the helmet, which, in truth, is a heavy burden.”

“Methinks, Francois, that armour will ere long be aban-
doned, now that arquebuses and cannon are coming more and
more intouse. Against them they give no protection, and it were
better, methinks, to have lightness and freedom of action, than
to have the trouble of wearing all this iron stuff merely as a

‘protection against lances. You have been trained to wear
armour, and therefore feel less inconvenience; but I have never
had as much as a breast-plate on before, and I feel at present
as if I had almost lost the use of my arms. I think that at
any rate I shall speedily get rid of these arm-pieces; the body
armour I don’t so much mind, now that I am fairly in the



TAKING THE FIELD 79

saddle. The leg-pieces are not as bad as those on the arms; [
was scarcely able to walk in them; still now that I am mounted
I do not feel them much. But if I am to be of any use ina
mélée I must have my arms free, and trust to my sword to
protect them.”

“T believe that some have already given them up, Philip;
and if you have your sleeves well wadded and quilted, I think
you might if you like give up the armour. The men-at-arms
are not so protected, and it is only when you meet a noble in
full armour that you would be at a disadvantage.”

“T don’t think it would be a disadvantage, for I could strike
twice with my arms free to once with them so confined.”

“There is one thing, you will soon become accustomed to
the armour.”

“Not very soon, I fancy, Francois. You know, you have
been practising in it almost since you were a child, and yet you
admit that you feel a great difference. Still, 1 daresay as the
novelty wears off I shall get accustomed to it to some extent.”

CHAPTER V.
TAKING THE FIELD.

GUIDE thoroughly acquainted with the country rode
ahead of the party, carrying a lantern fixed at the back
of his saddle. They had, after leaving the chateau, begun to
mount the lofty range of hills behind. The road crossing these
was a mere track, and they were glad when they began to de-
scend on the other side. They crossed the Clain river some ten
miles above Poitiers, a few miles farther forded the Vienne,
crossed the Gartempe at a bridge at the village of Montmo-
rillon, and an hour later halted in a wood, just as daylight
was breaking, having ridden nearly fifty miles since leaving
the chateau.



80 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

So far they had kept to the south of the direct course in
order to cross the rivers near their sources.

Every man carried provisions for himself and his horse, and
as soon as they had partaken of a hearty meal the armour was
unstrapped, and all threw themselves down for a long sleep;
sentries being first placed, with orders to seize any peasants
who might enter the wood to gather fuel. With the exception
of the sentries, who were changed every hour, the rest slept
until late in the afternoon, then the horses were again fed and
groomed, and another meal was eaten. At sunset the armour
was buckled on again, and they started. They crossed the
Creuse at the bridge of Argenton about midnight, and riding
through La Chatre halted before morning in a wood two miles
from St. Amand. Here the day was passed as the previous
one had been.

“Tell me, Frangois,” Philip said, as they were waiting for
the sun to go down, “something about your cousin De la
Noiie. As we are to ride with him, it is as well to know some-
thing about him. How old is he?”

“‘He is thirty-six, and there is no braver gentleman in France.
As you know, he is of a Breton family, one of the most illus-
trious of the province. He is connected with the great houses
of Chateau-Briant and Matignon. As a boy he was famous
for the vigour and strength that he showed in warlike exercises,
but was in other respects, I have heard, of an indolent disposi-
tion, and showed no taste for reading or books of any kind.
As usual among the sons of noble families he went up to the
court of Henry IL as a page, and when there became seized
with an ardour for study, especially that of ancient and modern
writers who treated on military subjects, As soon as he reached
manhood he joined the army in Piedmont, under Marshal de
Brissac, that being the best military school of the time.

“On his return he showed the singular and affectionate kind-
ness of his nature. His mother, unfortunately, while he was
away, had become infected with the spirit of gambling, and
the king, who had noted the talent and kind disposition of the



TAKING THE FIELD. 81

young page, thought to do him a service by preventing his
mother squandering the estates in play. He therefore took the
management of her affairs entirely out of her hands, appointing
a royal officer to look after them. Now most young men
would have rejoiced at becoming masters of their estates, but
the first thing that Francois did on his return was to go to the
king, and solicit as a personal favour that his mother should be
reinstated in the management of her estates. This was granted,
but ashort time afterwards she died. De La Noiie retired from
court, and settled in Brittany upon his estates, which were ex-
tensive.

“Shortly afterwards D’Andelot, Coligny’s brother, who was
about to espouse Madamoiselle De Rieux, the richest heiress
in Brittany, paid a visit there. He had lately embraced our
faith and was bent upon bringing over others to it, and he
brought down with him to Brittany a famous preacher named
Cormel. His preaching in the chateau attracted large numbers
of people, and although Brittany is perhaps the most Catholic
province in France, he made many converts. Among these
was De La Noiie, then twenty-seven years old. Recognizing
his talent and influence, D’Andelot had made special efforts
to induce him to join the ranks of the Huguenots, and suc-
ceeded. My cousin, who previous to that had, I believe, no
special religious views, became a firm Huguenot. As you
might expect with such a man, he is in no way a fanatic, and
does not hold the extreme views that we have learned from
the preachers of Geneva. He isa staunch Huguenot; but he is
gentle, courtly, and polished, and has, I believe, the regard of
men of both parties. He is a personal friend of the Guises,
and was appointed by them as one of the group of nobles who
accompanied Marie Stuart to Scotland.

“When the war broke out in 1562, after the massacre of
Vassy, he joined the standard of Condé. He fought at Dreux,
and distinguished himself by assisting the Admiral to draw off
our beaten army'in good order. ‘The assassination of Francois

de Guise, as you know, put an end to that war. De la Noiie
(777) F



82 ST, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

bitterly regretted the death of Guise, and after peace was made
retired to his estates in Brittany, where he has lived quietly
for the last four years. I have seen him several times, because
he has other estates in Poitou, within a day’s ride of us. I
have never seen a man I admire so much. He is all for peace,
though he is a distinguished soldier. While deeply religious,
he has yet the manners of a noble of the court party. He
has no pride, and he is loved by the poor as well as by the
rich. He would have done anything to have avoided war;
but you will see that, now the war has begun, he will be one
of our foremost leaders. I can tell you, Philip, I consider my-
self fortunate indeed that I am going to ride in the train of so
brave and accomplished a gentleman.”

During the day they learned from a peasant of a ford cross-
ing the Cher, two or three miles below St. Amand. Entering
a village near the crossing-place, they found a peasant who
was willing for a reward to guide them across the country to
Briare, on the Loire—their first guide had returned from their
first halting-place,—and the peasant being placed on a horse
behind a man-at-arms, took the lead. Their pace was much
slower than it had been the night before, and it was almost day-
break when they passed the bridge at Briare, having ridden
over forty miles. They rode two or three miles into the moun-
tains after crossing the Loire, and then halted.

“We must give the horses twenty-four hours here,” Frangois
said. “I don’t think it is above twenty miles on to Chatillon-
Sur-Loing; but it is all through the hills, and it is of no use
arriving there with the horses so knocked up as to be useless
for service. We have done three tremendous marches, and
anyhow we shall be there long before the majority of the par-
ties from the west and south can arrive. The Admiral and
Condé will no doubt be able to gather sufficient strength from
Champagne and the north of Burgundy for his purpose of
taking the court by surprise. I am afraid there is but little
chance of their succeeding, It is hardly possible that so many
parties of Huguenots can have been crossing the country in



TAKING THE FIELD. 83

all directions to the Admiral’s without an alarm being given.
Meaux is some sixty miles from Chatillon, and if the court get
the news only three or four hours before Condé arrives there,
they will be able to get to Paris before he can cut them off.”

In fact, even while they were speaking the court was
in safety. The Huguenots of Champagne had their rendezvous
at Rosoy, a little more than twenty miles from Meaux, and
they began to arrive there in the afternoon of the 28th. The
Prince of Condé, who was awaiting them, feeling sure that the
news of the movement must in a few hours at any rate be
known at Meaux, marched for Lagny on the Marne, established
himself there late in the evening and seized the bridge. The
news, however, had as he feared already reached the court, and
messages had been despatched in all haste to order up six
thousand Swiss troops, who were stationed at Chateau-Thierry,
thirty miles higher up the Marne.

During the hours that elapsed before their arrival, the court
was in a state of abject alarm; but at one o’clock the Swiss
arrived, and two hours later the court set out under their pro-
tection for Paris. The Prince of Condé, who had with him
but some four hundred gentlemen, for the most part armed
only with swords, met the force as it passed by Lagny. He
engaged in a slight skirmish with it, but being unable with
his lightly-armed followers to effect anything against the solid
body of the Swiss mountaineers armed with their long pikes,
he fell back to await reinforcements, and the court reached
Paris in safety.

A messenger had arrived at Chatillon with the news when
Francois and Philip rode in. The castle gate stood open.
Numbers of Huguenot gentlemen were standing in excited
groups discussing the news.

“There is my cousin De la Noiie!” Frangois exclaimed as
he alighted from his horse. ‘This is good fortune. I was
wondering what we should do if we did not find him here,”
and he made his way to where a singularly handsome gentle-
man was talking with several others.



84 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“ Ah, Francois, is that you? Well arrived indeed! Gentle-
men, this is my cousin and namesake, Francois de Laville.
He has ridden across France to join us. Is that your troop,
Francois, entering the gate now? Ah, yes, I see your banner.
By my faith it is the best accoutred body we have seen yet,
they make a brave show with their armour and lances. The
countess has indeed shown her good-will right worthily, and it
is no small credit to you that you should have brought them
across from the other side of Poitou, and yet have arrived here
before many who live within a few leagues of the castle. And
who is this young gentleman with you?”

“Tt is my cousin, Philip Fletcher, son of my mother’s sister
Lucie. I spoke to you of his coming to us when you were at
Laville three months since. He has come over in order that he
may venture his life on behalf of our religion and family.”

“T am glad to welcome you, young sir. We are, you sce,
connections, I being Philip’s first cousin on his father’s side,
and you on that of his mother. Your spirit in coming over
here shows that you inherit the bravery of your mother’s race,
and I doubt not that we shall find that the mixture with the
sturdy stock of England will have added to its qualities. Would
that your queen would but take her proper place as head of a
league of the Protestants of Europe, our cause would then be
well-nigh won without the need of striking a blow.”

“Ts it true, cousin, that the court has escaped to Paris?”

“Yes, I would that Condé had had but a few hours longer
befote they took the alarm, another day and he would have
had such a gathering as it would have puzzled the Swiss to
have got through. His forces were doubled yesterday, and
eight hundred have ridden forth from here this morning to
join him. I myself, though I made all speed, arrived but two
hours since, and shall with all who come in this evening ride
forward to-morrow. The Admiral, and his brother the Car-
dinal of Chatillon, will go with us. D’Andelot is already with
Condé. Now as your troop is to ride with mine, I will see
that they are disposed for the night together, and that their



TAKING THE FIELD 85

wants are attended to. My men have picketed their horses
just outside the castle moat; for, as you see, we are crowded
here with gentlemen and their personal followers, and it would
be impossible to make room for all. I will take your officer to
the seneschal, who will see that your men are provided with
bread, meat, and wine. Ah, Captain Montpace, you are in com-
mand of the troop, I see. I thought the countess would send so
experienced a soldier with them, and I am proud to have such
a well-appointed troop behind me. None so well armed and
orderly have yet arrived. My own at present are forty strong,
and have, like you, made their way across France from
Poitou.

“T could not bring my Bretons,” he said turning to Francois.
‘The Huguenots there are but a handful among the Catholics.
Happily on my estates they are good friends together, but I
could not call away men from their homes at a time like this,
Now, Captain Montpace, I will show you where your men are
to bivouac next to my own. Then if you will come with me
to the seneschal, rations shall be served out to them. Are
your horses fit for another journey ?”

“They will be by to-morrow morning, Count. They have
only come from this. side of Briare this morning, but though
the journey is not long the road is heavy. They had twenty-
four hours’ rest before that, which they needed sorely, having
travelled from Laville in three days.”

“Draw a good supply of forage for them from the magazines,”
De la Noiie said. “See that the saddle-bags are well filled in
the morning. There is another heavy day’s work before them,
and then they can take a good rest.”

Frangois and Philip accompanied the troop, and waited until
they saw that they were supplied with provisions and forage,
and with straw for lying down on, then they re-entered the
castle. De la Noiie presented them to many of his friends,
and then took them into the Admiral. He quite fulfilled the
anticipations that Philip had formed of him. He was of tall
figure, with a grave but kindly face. He was dressed entirely



86 ST. BARTHOLOMEWS EVE.

in black, with puffed trunks, doublet to match, and a large
turned-down collar. As was usual, he wore over his shoulders
a loose jacket with a very high collar, the empty sleeves
hanging down on either side. When riding, the arms were
thrust into these. He wore a low soft cap with a narrow
brim all round. The expression of his face, with its short-
pointed beard, moustache, and closely-trimmed whiskers, was
melancholy. The greatest captain of his age, he was more
reluctant than any of his followers to enter upon civil war, and
the fact that he felt that it was absolutely necessary to save
Protestanism from being extinguished in blood, in no way
reconciled him to it.

He received Frangois and his cousin kindly. “I am glad,”
he said to the former, “to see the representative of the
Lavilles here. Your father was a dear friend of mine, and
fell fighting bravely by my side. I should have been glad to
have had you riding among my friends, but it is better still
for you to be with your cousin De la Noiie, who is far more
suitable as a leader and guide for youth than Iam. You can
follow no better example. I am glad also,” he said turning to
Philip, “to have another representative of the old family of
the De Moulins here, and to find that though transplanted to
England it still retains its affection for France. I trust that
ere long I may have many of your countrymen fighting by my
side. We have the same interests, and if the Protestant
nations would unite, the demand for the right of all men,
Catholic and Protestant, to worship according to their con-
sciences could no longer be denied. I regret that your queen
does not permit free and open worship to her Catholic subjects,
since her not doing so affords some sort of excuse to Catholic
kings and princes. Still I know that this law is not put
rigidly into force, and that the Catholics do in fact exercise
the rights of their religion without hindrance or persecution;
and above all that there is no violent ill-will between the
people of the two religions. Would it were so here. Were it
not that you are going to ride with my good friend here, I



TAKING THE FIELD. 87

would have said a few words to you, praying you to remember
that you are fighting not for worldly credit and honour, but for
a holy cause, and it behoves you to bear yourselves gravely and
seriously; but no such advice. is needed to those who come
under his influence.”

Leaving the Count de la Notie in conversation with the
Admiral, Francois and Philip made their way to the hall,
where the tables were laid, so that all who came, at whatever
hour, could at once obtain food. Their own servants, who were
established in the castle, waited upon them.

“T think that lackey of yours will turn out a very useful
fellow, Philip,” Francois said as they left the hall. “He is
quick and willing, and he turned out our dinner yesterday in
good fashion. It was certainly far better cooked than it had
been by Charles the day before.”

“T fancy Pierre has done a good deal of cooking in the open
air,” Philip said, “and we shall find that he is capable of turn-
ing out toothsome dishes from very scanty materials.”

“Tam glad to hear it, for though I am ready to eat horse-
flesh if necessary, I see not why because we happen to be at
war one should have to spoil one’s teeth by gnawing at meat as
hard as leather. Soldiers are generally bad cooks, they are
in too much haste to get their food at the end of a long day’s
work to waste much time with the cooking. Here comes La
Noiie again.”

“Will you order your troop to be again in the saddle at five
o’clock in the morning, De Laville,” the Count said. “TI start
with a party of two hundred at that hour. There will be my
own men and yours, the rest will be gentlemen and their
personal retainers.”

“T would that it had been three hours later,” Francois said
as the Count left them and moved away, giving similar orders
to the other gentlemen. ‘“I own I hate moving before it is
light. There is nothing rufiles the temper so much as getting
up in the dark, fumbling with your buckles and straps, and
finding everyone else just as surly and cross as you feel your-



88 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

self. It was considered a necessary part of my training that I
should turn out and arm myself at all times of the night. It
was the part of my exercises that I hated the most.”

Philip laughed. “It will not make much difference here,
Frangois. I don’t like getting out of a warm bed myself on a
dark winter’s morning, but as there will be certainly no un-
dressing to-night, and we shall merely have to get up and
shake the straw off us, it will not matter much. By half-past
five it will be beginning to get light. At any rate we should not
mind it to-morrow, as it will be really our first day of military
service.”

Up to a late hour fresh arrivals continued to pour in, and
the cooks and servants of the castle were kept hard at work
administering to the wants of the hungry and tired men.
There was no regular set meal, each man feeding as he was
disposed. After it became dark all the gentlemen of family
gathered in the upper part of the great hall, and there sat
talking by the light of torches until nine, then the Admiral
with a few of the nobles who had been in consultation with
him joined them, and a quarter of an hour later a pastor entered
and prayers were read. Then a number of retainers came in
with trusses of straw, which were shaken down thickly beside
the walls, and as soon as this was done, all present prepared
to lie down.

“The trumpet will sound, gentleman,” Francois de la Noiie
said in a loud voice, “at half-past four, but this will only
concern those who, as it has already been arranged, will ride
with me—the rest will set out with the Admiral at seven. I
pray each of you who go with me to bid his servant cut off a
goodly portion of bread and meat to take along with him, and
to place a flask or two of wine in his saddle-bags, for our ride
will be a long one, and we are not likely to be able to obtain
refreshment on our way.”

“JT should have thought,” Francois said, as he lay down on
the straw by Philip’s side, “that we should have passed through
plenty of places where we could obtain food. Whether we go



TAKING THE FIELD. 89

direct to Paris, or by the road by Lagny, we pass through
Nemours and Mélun.”

“These places may not open their gates to us, Francois, and
in that case probably we should go through Montereau and
Rosoy, and it may be considered that those who have already
gone through to join Condé may have pretty well stripped both
places of provisions.”

The trumpet sounded at half-past four. The torches were
at once relighted by the servants, and the gentlemen belonging
to La Noiie’s party rose, and their servants assisted them to
buckle on their armour. They gave them instructions as to
taking some food with them, and prepared for their journey by
an attack on some cold joints that had been placed on a table
at the lower end of the hall. There was a scene of bustle and
confusion in the courtyard as the horses were brought up by
the retainers. The Admiral himself was there to see the party
off, and as they mounted each issued out and joined the men
drawn up outside. Before starting, the minister according to
Huguenot custom held a short service, and then with a salute to
the Admiral, La Noiie took his place at their head and rode away.

With him went some twenty or thirty gentlemen, behind
whom rode their body-servants. After these followed some
fifty men-at-arms and the troops of La Noiie and Laville.
As soon as they were off La Noiie reined in his horse so as to
ride in the midst of his friends, and chatted gaily with them as
they went along. An hour and a half’s brisk riding took them
to Montargis. Instead of keeping straight on, as most of those
present expected, the two men who were riding a short distance
in advance of the column turned sharp off to the left in the
middle of the town.

“T am going to give you a surprise, gentlemen,” De la Noiie
said with asmile. “I will tell you what it is when we are
once outside the place.”

“T suppose,” one of the gentlemen from the province, who
was riding next to Philip, said, “we are going to strike the
main road from Orleans north: to ride through Etampes, and



90 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

take post between Versailles and Paris on the south side of the
river, while the Prince and his following beleaguer the place
on the north. It is a bold plan thus to divide our forces, but
I suppose the Admiral’s party will follow us, and by taking post
on the south side of the river we shall straiten Paris for pro-
visions.”

“Gentlemén,” the Coit said, when they had issued from
the streets of Montargis, “I can now tell you the mission
which the Admiral has done me the honour to confide to me.
It was thought best to keep the matter an absolute secret until
we were thus fairly on our way, because, although we hope and
believe that there is not a man at Chatillon who j is not to be
trusted, there may possibly be a spy of the Guises there, and
it would have been wrong to run the risk of betrayal. Well,
my friends, our object is the capture of Orleans.”

An exclamation of surprise broke from many of his hearers.

“It seems a bold enterprise to undertake with but little over
two hundred men,” La Noiie went on with a smile; “but we
have friends there. D’Andelot has been for the last ten days in
communication with one of them. We may of course expect
to meet with a stout resistance, but with the advantage of a
surprise and with so many gallant gentlemen with me, I have
no shadow of fear as to the result. I need not point out to
you how important. its possession will be to us. It will keep
open a road to the south, will afford a rallying-place for all our
friends in this part of France, and the news of its capture will
give immense encouragement to our co-religionists throughout
the country. Besides it will counterbalance the failure to seize
the court, and will serve as an example to others to attempt to

. obtain possession of strong places. We shall ride at an easy
pace to-day, for the distance is long and the country hilly. We
could not hope to arrive there until too late to finish our work
before dark. Moreover, most of our horses have already had
very hard work during the past few days. We have started
early in order that we may have a halt of four hours in the
middle of the day. We are to be met to-night by our friend, the



TAKING THE FIELD. 91

Master of Grelot, five miles this side of the city; he will tell us
what arrangements have been made for facilitating our entrance.”

“This is a glorious undertaking, Philip, is it not?” Francois
said. ‘Until now I have been thinking how unfortunate we
were in being too late to ride with Condé. Now I see that
what I thought was a loss has turned out a gain.”

“You do not think Condé will be able to do anything against
Paris?” Philip asked.

“Certainly not at present. What can some fifteen hundred
horsemen and as many infantry (and he will have no more force
than that for another three or four days) do against Paris
with its walls and its armed population, and the Guises and
their friends and retainers, to say nothing of the six thousand
Swiss? If our leaders thought they were going to fight at once
they would hardly have sent two hundred good troops off in
another direction. I expect we shall have plenty of time to
get through this and other expeditions and then to join the
Prince in front.of Paris before any serious fighting takes place.”

“Do you know how far it is across the hills to Orleans?”
Philip asked the gentlemen next to him on the other side.

“Tt is over fifty miles, but how much more I do not know.
Iam a native of the province, but I have never travelled along
this road, which can be but little used. East of Montargis the
traffic goes by the great road through Mélun to Paris, while
the traffic of Orleans, of course, goes north through Etampes.”

They rode on until noon, and then dismounted by a stream,
watered and fed the horses, partook of a meal from the
contents of their saddle-bags, and then rested for four hours
to recruit the strength of their horses. The soldiers mostly
stretched themselves on the sward and slept. A few of the
gentlemen did the same, but most of them sat chatting in
groups, discussing the enterprise upon which they were engaged.
Frangois and Philip went among their men with Captain
Montpace, inspected the horses, examined their shoes, saw that
fresh nails were put in where required, chatting with the men
as they did so.



92 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“JT felt sure we should not be long before we were engaged
on some stirring business,” the Captain said. “The Count de
la Noiie is not one to let the grass grow under his feet. I saw
much of him in the last campaign, and the count, your father,
had a very high opinion of his military abilities. At first he
was looked upon somewhat doubtfully in our camp, seeing that
he did not keep a long face, but was ready with a jest and
a laugh with high and low, and that he did not affect the
soberness of costume favoured by our party; but that soon
passed off when it was seen how zealous he was in the cause;
how ready to share in any dangerous business, while he set an
example to all by the cheerfulness with which he bore fatigue
and hardship. Next to the Admiral himself and his brother
D’Andelot there was no officer more highly thought of by the
troops. This is certainly a bold enterprise that he has under-
taken now, if it be true what I have heard since we halted
that we are going to make a dash at Orleans. It is a big city
for two hundred men to capture, even though no doubt we
have numbers of friends within the walls.”

“All the more glory and credit to us, Montpace,” Frangois said
gaily. “Why, the news that Orleans is captured will send a
thrill through France, and will everywhere encourage our friends
to rise against our oppressors. We are sure to take them by
surprise, for they will believe that all the Huguenots in this
part of France are hastening to join the Prince before Paris.”

At four o’clock the party got in motion again, and an hour
after dark entered a little village among the hills about five
miles north of the town. De la Noiie at once placed a cordon
of sentries, with orders that neither man, woman, nor child was
to be allowed to leave it. Orders were issued to the startled
peasants that all were to keep within their doors at the peril
of their lives. The horses were picketed in the street, and the
soldiers stowed in barns; trusses of straw were strewn round
a fire for La Noiie and the gentlemen who followed him. At
eight o’clock two videttes thrown forward some distance along
the road rode in with a horseman. It was the Master of



TAKING THE FIELD. 93

Grelot, who, as he rode up to the fire, was heartily greeted by
the Count.

“T am glad to find you here, Count,” he said; “I knew you
to be a man of your word, but in warfare things often occur
to upset the best calculations.”

“Ts everything going on well at Orleans?” De la Noiie
asked.

“Everything. I have made all my arrangements. A party
of five-and-twenty men I can depend on will to-morrow morn-
ing at seven o'clock gather near the gate this side of the town.
They will come up in twos and threes, and just as the guard
are occupied in unbarring the gate they will fall upon them.
The guard is fifteen strong, and as they will be taken by sur-
prise they will be able to offer but a faint resistance. Of course
you with your troop will be lying in readiness near. As soon
as they have taken possession of the gateway the party will
issue out and wave a white flag as a signal to you that all
is clear, and you will be in before the news that the gateway
has been seized can spread. After that you will know what
to do. In addition to the men who are to carry out the enter-
prise you will shortly be joined by many others. Word has
been sent round to our partisans that they may speedily expect
deliverance, and bidding them be prepared whenever they are
called upon to take up their arms and join those who come to
free them.

“A large number of the town-folk are secretly either wholly
with us or well disposed towards us, and although some will
doubtless take up arms on the other side, I think that with the
advantage of the surprise.and with such assistance as our party
can give you, there is every chance of bringing the enterprise to
a successful issue. One of our friends, who has a residence within
a bow-shot of the gates, has arranged with me that your troop,
arriving there before daylight, shall at once enter his grounds,
where they will be concealed from the sight of any country
people going towards the city.

“From the upper windows the signal can be seen, and if you are



94 ST, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

mounted and ready you can be there in three or four minutes,
and it will take longer than that before the alarm can spread,
and the Catholics muster strongly enough to recapture the gate.”

“Admirably arranged,” the Count said warmly. “With a
plan so well laid our scheme can hardly fail of success. If we
only do our part as well as you have done yours, Orleans is
as good as won. Now, gentlemen, I advise you to toss off one
more goblet of wine, and then to wrap yourselves up in your
cloaks for a few hours’ sleep. We must be in the saddle soon
after four, so as to be off the road by five.”

At that hour the troop led by the Master of Grelot turned
in at the gate of the chateau. The owner was awaiting them,
and gave them a cordial welcome. The men were ordered to
dismount and stand by their horses, while the leaders followed
their host into the house, where a repast had been laid out for
them, while some servitors took out baskets of bread and
flagons of wine to the troopers.

At half-past six groups of countrymen were seen making
their way along the road towards the gate, and a quarter of an
hour later the troop mounted and formed up in readiness to
issue out as soon as the signal was given, their host placing
himself at an upper window whence he could obtain a view
of the city gate. It was just seven when he called out “The
gate is opening!.” and immediately afterwards, “They have
begun the work. The country people outside are running away
inapanic. Ah! there is the white flac.” Two servitors at the
gate of the chateau threw it open, and headed by La Noiie and
the gentlemen of the party they issued out and galloped down
the road at full speed. As they approached the gate some men
ran out waving their caps and swords.

“Well done!” La Noiie exclaimed as he rode up. “Now,
scatter and call out all our friends to aid us in the capture.”

The troop had been already divided into four parties, each
led by gentlemen familiar with the town. Francois and Philip,
with the men from Laville, formed the party led by the Count
himself. The news of the tumult at the gate had spread, and



TAKING THE FIELD. 95

just as they reached the market-place a body of horsemen equal
in strength to their own rode towards them.

“For God and the religion!” La Noiie shouted as he led the
charge. Ignorant of the strength of their assailants, and having
mounted in haste at the first alarm, the opposing band hesitated,
and before they could set their horses into a gallop the Hugue-
nots were upon them.

The impetus of the charge was irresistible. Men and horses
rolled over, while those in the rear turned and rode away, and
the combat was over before scarce a blow had been struck. A
party of infantry hastening up were next encountered; these
offered a more stubborn resistance, but threw down their arms
and surrendered when another of the Huguenot parties rode into
the square. At the sound of the conflict the upper windows of
the houses were opened, and the citizens looked out in alarm
at the struggle. But the Catholics having neither orders nor
plan dared not.venture out, while the Huguenots mustered
rapidly with arms in their hands, and rendered valuable assist-
ance to the horsemen in attacking and putting to flight the
parties of Catholic horse and foot as they came hurriedly up.

In an hour all resistance had ceased and Orleans was taken.
The Count at once issued a proclamation to the citizens assuring
all peaceable persons of protection, and guaranteeing to the
citizens immunity from all interference with personal property
and the right of full exercise of their religion. The charge of
the gates was given over to the Huguenot citizens, parties of
horse were told off to patrol the streets to see that order was
preserved, and to arrest any using threats or violence to the
citizens, and in a very few hours the town resumed its usual
appearance. Now-that all fear of persecution was at an end, large
numbers of the citizens who had hitherto concealed their lean-
ings towards the new religion openly avowed them, and La
Noiie saw with satisfaction that the town could be safely left
to the keeping of the Huguenot adherents with the assistance
only of a few men to act as leaders. These he selected from
the gentlemen of the province who had come with him, and as



96 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

soon as these had entered upon their duties he felt free to turn
his attention elsewhere.

Two days were spent in appointing a council of the leading
citizens, the Huguenots of course being in the majority. To
them was intrusted the management of the affairs of the town
and the maintenance of order. The young nobleman appointed
as governor was to have entire charge of military matters; all
Huguenots capable of bearing arms were to be formed up in
companies, each of which was to appoint its own officers. They
were to practise military exercises, to have charge of the gates
and walls, and to be prepared to defend them in case a hostile
force should lay siege to the city. Three of the nobles were
appointed to see to the victualling of the town; and all citizens
were called upon to contribute a sum according to their means
for this purpose. A few old soldiers were left to drill the new
levies, to see that the walls were placed in a thorough condi-
tion of defence, and above all to aid the leaders in suppressing
any attempt at the ill-treatment of Catholics, or the desecration
of their churches by the Huguenot portion of the population.
When all arrangements were made for the peace and safety of
the town, De la Noiie despatched most of the gentlemen with
him and their followers to join the Prince of Condé before
Paris, retaining only his Cousin Francois, Philip, the troop
from Laville, and his own band of forty men-at-arms.

CHAPTER VI.
THE BATTLE OF ST. DENIS.

to DE LAVILLE and Philip had fought by the
side of La Noiie in the engagement in the streets of
Orleans, but had seen little of the Count afterwards, his time
being fully employed in completing the various arrangements
to ensure the safety of the town. They had been lodged in



THE BATTLE OF ST. DENIS. 97

the house of one of the Huguenot citizens, and had spent their
time walking about the town or in the society of some of the
younger gentlemen of their party.

“Are you both ready for service again?” the Count de la
Noiie, who had sent for them to come to his lodgings, asked on
the evening of the third day after the capture of Orleans.

“Quite ready,” Francois replied. ‘The horses have all re-
covered from their fatigue, and are in condition for a fresh
start. Are we bound for Paris, may I ask?”

“No, Francois, we are going on a recruiting tour: partly
because we want men, but more to encourage our people by
the sight of an armed party, and to show the Catholics that
they had best stay their hands and leave us alone for the pre-
sent. I take a hundred men with me, including your troop
and my own, which I hope largely to increase. Sometimes we
-shall keep in a body, sometimes break up into two or three
parties. Always we shall move rapidly, so as to appear where
least expected, and so spread uneasiness as to where we may
next appear. In the south we are, as I hear, holding our own.
I shall therefore go first to Brittany, and if all is quiet, there
raise another fifty men. We shall travel through Touraine and
Anjou as we go, and then sweep round by Normandy and La
Perche, and so up to Paris. So you see we shall put a good
many miles of ground under our feet before we join the Prince.
In that way not only shall we swell our numbers and en-
courage our friends, but we shall deter many of the Catholic
gentry from sending their retainers to join the army of the
Guises.”

“Tt will be a pleasant ride, cousin,” Francois said, “and I
hope that we shall have an opportunity of doing some good
work before we reach Paris, and especially that we shall not
arrive there too late to join in the coming battle.”

“J do not think that there is much fear of that,” the Count
replied; “the Prince has not sufficient strength to attack Paris.
And for my part, I think that it would have been far better,

when it was found that his plan of seizing the court had failed,
(777) @



98 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

to have drawn off at once. He can do nothing against Paris,
and his presence before it will only incite the inhabitants against
us and increase their animosity. It would have been better to
have applied the force in reducing several strong towns where,
as at Orleans, the bulk of the inhabitants are favourable to us.
In this way we should weaken the enemy, strengthen ourselves,
and provide places of refuge for our people in case of need.
However, it is too late for such regrets; the Prince is there,
and we must take him what succour we can. I was pleased
with you both in the fights upon the day we entered. You
both behaved like brave gentlemen and good swordsmen. I
expected no less from you, Francois; but I was surprised to
find your English cousin so skilled with his weapon.”

“He is a better swordsman than I am,” Francois said; “which
is a shame to me, since he is two years my junior.”

“Tg he indeed!” the Count said in surprise. “I had taken
him to be at least your equal in years. Let me think, you are
but eighteen and some months?”

“But a month over eighteen,” Francois said, “and Philip
has but just passed sixteen.”

“You will make a doughty warrior when you attain your
full strength, Philip. I saw you put aside a thrust from an
ofticer in the mélée, and strike him from his horse with a back-
handed cut with your sword, dealt with a vigour that left
nothing to be desired.”

“TI know that I am too fond of using the edge, sir,” Philip
said modestly; “(my English masters taught me to do so, and
although my French instructors at home were always impressing
upon me that the point was more deadly than the edge, I can-
not break myself altogether from the habit.”

“There is no need to do so,” the Count said. “Of late the
point has come into fashion among us, and doubtless it has
advantages, but often a downright blow will fetch a man from
his saddle when you would in vain try to find with the point
a joint in his armour. But you must have been well taught
indeed if you are a better swordsman than my cousin, whose



THE BATTLE OF ST. DENIS. 99

powers I have tried at Laville, and found him to be an ex-
cellent swordsman for his age.”

“T have had many masters,” Philip said. “Both my French
and English teachers were good swordsmen, and it was seldom
a Frenchman who had been in the wars passed through
Canterbury that my uncle did not engage him to give me a few
lessons. Thus, being myself very anxious to become a good
swordsman, and being fond of exercises, I naturally picked up a
great many tricks with the sword.”

“You could not have spent your time better if you had an
intention of coming over to take part in our troubles here. Your
grandfather, De Moulins, was said to be one of the best swords-
men in France, and you may have inherited some of his skill.
I own that I felt rather uneasy at the charge of two such young
cockerels, though I could not refuse when the countess, my
aunt, begged me to let you ride with me; but in future I shall
feel easy about you, seeing that you can both take your own
parts stoutly. Well, order your men to be ready and mounted
in the market-place at half-past five. The west gate will be
opened for us to ride forth at six.”

Philip had every reason to be satisfied with the conduct of
his new servant. In the town, as at Laville, Pierre behaved
circumspectly and quietly, assuming a grave countenance in
accordance with his surroundings; keeping his arms and armour
brightly polished, and waiting at table as orderly as if he had
been used to nothing else all his life.

“Tam glad to hear it, sir,” Pierre said, when Philip informed
him that they would start on the following morning. ‘I love
not towns, and here, where there is nought to do but to polish
your armour and stand behind your chair at dinner, the time
goes mighty heavily.”

“You will have no cause to grumble on that account, Pierre,
I fancy, for your ride will be a long one. I do not expect we
shall often have a roof over our heads.”

“All the better, sir, so long as the ride finishes before the
cold weather sets in. fond as I am of sleeping with the stars



Full Text

The Baldwin Library

University
Br
Til Florida




PHILIP GETS HIS FIRST LOOK AT PIERRE,
St. BARTHOLOMEWS EVE:

A TALE OF

THE HUGUENOT WARS.

BY

G. A. HENTY,

Author of “ Beric the Briton;” ‘In Freedom’s Cause;” ‘‘ The Dash for Khartoum;”
“By England’s Aid;” “In the Reign of Terror;” &c.

WITH TWELVE ILLUSTRATIONS BY H, J. DRAPER,
AND MAP OF FRANCE.



LONDON:
BLACKIE & SON, Limrrep, 49 OLD BAILEY, E.C.
GLASGOW, EDINBURGH, AND DUBLIN.
1894.
PREFACE.

My prEAR Laps,

It is difficult in these days of religious toleration to
understand why men should, three centuries ago, have flown at
each others’ throats in the name of the Almighty; still less, how
in cold blood they could have perpetrated hideous massacres
of men, women, and children. The Huguenot wars were, how-
ever, as much political as religious. Philip of Spain, at that
time the most powerful potentate of Europe, desired to add
France to the countries where his influence was all-powerful,
and in the ambitious house of Guise he found ready instru-
ments. For a time the new faith that had spread with such
rapidity in Germany, England, and Holland, made great pro-
eress in France also. But here the reigning family remained
Catholic, and the vigorous measures they adopted to check the
growing tide drove those of the new religion to take up arms
in self-defence. Although under the circumstances the Pro-
testants can hardly be blamed for so doing, there can be little
doubt that the first Huguenot war, though the revolt was
successful, was the means of France remaining a Catholic
country. It gave colour to the assertions of the Guises and
their friends that the movement was a political one, and that
the Protestants intended to grasp all power and to overthrow
the throne of France. It also afforded an excuse for the cruel
persecutions which followed, and rallied to the Catholic cause
numbers of those who were at heart indifferent to the question
of religion, but were Royalists rather than Catholics.
vi PREFACE,

The great organization of the Church of Rome laboured
among all classes for the destruction of the growing heresy.
Every pulpit in France resounded with denunciations of the
Huguenots, and passionate appeals were made to the bigotry
and fanaticism of the more ignorant classes; so that, while
the power of the Huguenots lay in some of the country
districts, the mobs of the great towns were everywhere the
instruments of the priests.

I have not considered it necessary to devote any large
portion of my story to details of the terrible massacres of
the period, nor to the atrocious persecutions to which the
Huguenots were subjected, but have as usual gone to the
military events of the struggle for its chief interest. For the -
particulars of these I have relied chiefly upon the collection
of works of contemporary authors published by M. Zeller of
Paris, the Memoirs of Francois de la Noiie, and other French
authorities.

Yours sincerely,

G. A. HENTY.
CHAP.

II.
III.
Ty.
Vv.
VI.
VIL.
VIII.
IX.
X.
XI.
XII.
XII.
XIV.
XY.
XVI.

XVII.

XVITL.
XIX.
XX.
XXL.
XXII.

CONTENTS

. Driven From Homer,

AN Important Decision, .

In A Frencu CHareEau,

AN EXPERIMENT,

TAKING THE Frevp, .

Tue Barrie or Sr. Denis,

A Rescug, .

Tue Turrp Hueuvrnor War,
Aw Inmprorranr Mission,

THe QuEEN or NAVARRE, .
JEANNE OF NAVARRE,

Aw Escare rrom Prison,

Av LAVILLE,

Tue ASSAULT ON THE CHATEAU,
Tur Barrie or JARNAG,

A Hucvrenot PRAYER-MEETING, .
Tur Barrie or Monconrour,
A Vistr Home,

In a Net, .

THE Tocsin,

Escape, .

RevuNITED, .

Page

. 118
ILLUSTRATIONS.

Page
PHILIP GETS HIS FIRST LOOK AT PrerrE,. . . . . Srontis. 66
GASPARD VAILLANT MAKES A PRoposaAn,. . . . . . . . 28
Puinre AND Francois IN THE ARMOURY,. . . . . . . . 54
“I yOU MOVE A STEP YOU ARE A DEAD MAN,” . . . . . 122
PHILIP AND HIS FOLLOWERS EMBARKING, . . . . . . . . 169
Puiure IN PRISON,. «6. ee eee ee ee 209
“ PHILIP STRUCK HIM FULL IN THE FACK,” 2... . ee 269
PIERRE LISTENS AT THE OPEN WinboW oF THE INN,. . . . 284
GASPARD VAILLANT GETS A SURPRISE,. . . . . . . . . 806

“You HAVE NOT HEARD THE NEWS, Monstrur Putnre?”.. . 328

“THAT CROSS IS PLACED THERE BY DESIGN,” . . . . . . 844
PHILIP, CLAIRE, AND PIERRE DISGUISE THEMSELVES, . . . . 052

Mar or France ty 1570,. . . 2. . 1...) . to face p. 10




















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IN THE YEAR 1570 4



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ST BARTHOLOMEWS EVE

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BLACKIE & SON, LIMITED, LONDON, GLASGOW & EDINBURGH


ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

A TALE OF THE HUGUENOT WARS.



CHAPTER I.
DRIVEN FROM HOME.

N the year 1567 there were few towns in the
southern counties of England that did not contain

a colony, more or less large, of French Protestants.

For thirty years the Huguenots had been exposed
to constant and cruel persecutions; many thousands had been
massacred by the soldiery, burned at the stake, or put to death
with dreadful tortures. Fifty thousand, it was calculated, had,
in spite of the most stringent measures of prevention, left their
homes and made their escape across the frontiers. These had
settled for the most part in the Protestant cantons of Switzer-
land, in Holland, or England. As many of those who reached
our shores were but poorly provided with money, they natu-
rally settled in or near the ports of landing.

Canterbury was a place in which many of the unfortunate
emigrants found a home. Here one Gaspard Vaillant, his wife,
and her sister, who had landed in the year 1547, had estab-
lished themselves. They were among the first comers, but the
French colony had grown gradually until it numbered several
hundreds, The Huguenots were well liked in the town, being
pitied for their misfortunes and admired for the courage with
which they bore their losses; setting to work, each man at his


12 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

trade if he had one, or if not, taking to the first work that
came to hand. They were quiet and God-fearing folk; very
good towards each other and to their poor countrymen on their
way from the coast to London, entertaining them to the best
of their power, and sending them forward on their way with
letters to the Huguenot committee in London, and with suffi-
cient money in their pockets to pay their expenses on the jour-
ney, and to maintain them for a while until some employment
could be found for them.

Gaspard Vaillant had been a land-owner near Civray, in
Poitou. He was connected by blood with several noble fami-
lies in that district, and had been among the first to embrace
the reformed religion. For some years he had not been inter-
fered with, as it was upon the poorer and more defenceless
classes that the first fury of the persecutors fell; but as the
attempts of Francis to stamp out the new sect failed, and his
anger rose more and more against them, persons of all ranks
fell under the ban. The prisons were filled with Protestants
who refused to confess their errors; soldiers were quartered in
the towns and villages, where they committed terrible atro-
cities upon the Protestants; and Gaspard, seeing no hope of
better times coming, or of being permitted to worship in peace
and quietness, gathered together what money he could and
made his way with his wife and her sister to La Rochelle,
whence he took ship to London.

Disliking the bustle of a large town, he was recommended .
by some of his compatriots to go down to Canterbury, where
three or four fugitives from his own part of the country had
settled. One of these was a weaver by trade, but without
money to manufacture looms or set up in his calling. Gaspard
joined him as partner, embarking the little capital he had
saved; and being a shrewd, clear-headed man he carried on the
business part of the concern, while his partner Lequoc worked
at the manufacture. As the French colony in Canterbury in-
creased they had no difficulty in obtaining skilled hands from
among them. The business grew in magnitude, and the profits
DRIVEN FROM HOME. 13

were large, in spite of the fact that numbers of similar enter-
prises had been established by the Huguenot immigrants in
London and other places. They were indeed amply sufficient
to enable Gaspard Vaillant to live in the condition of a sub-
stantial citizen, to aid his fellow-countrymen, and to lay by a
good deal of money.

His wife’s sister had not remained very long with him. She
had, upon their first arrival, given lessons in her own language
to the daughters of burgesses and of the gentry near the town,
but three years after the arrival of the family there she had
married a well-to-do young yeoman who farmed a hundred acres
of his own land two miles from the town. His relations and
neighbours had shaken their heads over what they considered his
folly in marrying the pretty young Frenchwoman, but ere long
they were obliged to own that his choice had been a good one.
Just after his first child was born he was, when returning home
one evening from market, knocked down and run over by a
drunken carter, and was so injured that for many months his
life was in danger. Then he began to mend, but though he
gained in strength he did not recover the use of his legs, being
completely paralysed from the hips dowuward, and, as it soon
appeared, was destined to remain a helpless invalid all his life.

From the day of the accident Lucie had taken the manage-
ment of affairs in her hands, and having been brought up in
the country, and being possessed of a large share of the shrewd-
ness and common sense for which Frenchwomen are often con
spicuous, she succeeded admirably. The neatness and order of
the house since their marriage had been a matter of surprise
to her husband’s friends, and it was not long before the farm
showed the effects of her management. Gaspard Vaillant
assisted her with his counsel, and as the French methods of
agriculture were considerably in advance of those in England,
instead of things going to rack and ruin, as John Fletcher’s
friends predicted, its returns were considerably augmented.
Naturally, she at first experienced considerable opposition. The
labourers grumbled at what they called new-fangled French
14 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

fashions; but when they left her their places were supplied by
her countrymen, who were frugal and industrious, accustomed
to make the most out of small areas of ground and to turn
every foot to the best advantage.

Gradually the raising of corn was abandoned, and a large
portion of the farm devoted to the growing of vegetables, which,
by dint of plentiful manuring and careful cultivation, were pro-
duced of a size and quality that were the surprise and admi-
ration of the neighbourhood, and gave her almost a monopoly
of the supply of Canterbury. The carters were still English ;
partly because Lucie had the good sense to see that if she
employed French labourers only she would excite feelings of
jealousy and dislike among her neighbours, and partly because
she saw that in the management of horses and cattle the English-
men were equal, if not superior, to her countrymen. Her life
was a busy one; the management of the house and farm would
alone have been a heavy burden to most people, but she found
ample time for the tenderest care of the invalid, whom she
nursed with untiring affection.

“Tt is hard upon a man of my size and inches, Lucie,” he
said one day, “to be lying here as helpless as a sick child; and
yet I don’t feel that I have any cause for discontent. I should
like to be going about the farm, and yet I feel that I am hap-
pier here, lying watching you singing so contentedly over your
work, and making everything so bright and comfortable. Who
would have thought when I married a little French lady that
she was going to turn out a notable farmer? All my friends
tell me that there is not a farm like mine in all the country
round, and that the crops are the wonder of the neighbourhood;
and when I see the vegetables that are brought in here I should
like to go over the farm, if only for once, just to see them
growing.”

“T hope you will be able to do that some day, dear. Not on
foot, I am afraid; but when you get stronger and better, as I
hope you will, we will take you round in a litter, and the bright
sky and the fresh air will do you good.”
DRIVEN FROM HOME. 15

Lucie spoke very fair English now, and her husband had
come to speak a good deal of French; for the service of the
house was all in that language, the three maids being daughters
of French workmen in the town. The waste and disorder of
those who were in the house when her husband first brought her
there had appalled her, and the women so resented any attempt
at teaching on the part of the French madam, that after she
had tried several sets with equally bad results, John Fletcher
had consented to the introduction of French girls, bargaining
only that he was to have good English fare, and not French
kickshaws. The Huguenot customs had been kept up, and night
and morning the house servants, with the French neighbours
and their families, all assembled for prayer in the farmhouse.
To this John Fletcher had agreed without demur. His father
had been a Protestant when there was some danger in being
so, and he himself had been brought up soberly and strictly.
Up to the time of his accident there had been two congrega-
tions, he himself reading the prayers to his farm hands, while
Lucie afterwards read them in her own language to her maids,
but as the French labourers took the place of the English
hands only one service was needed. When John Fletcher first
regained sufficient strength to take much interest in what was
passing round, he was alarmed at the increase in the numbers
of those who attended these gatherings. Hitherto four men
had done the whole work of the farm ; now there were twelve.

“Lucie, dear,” he said uneasily one day, “I know that you
are a capital manager, but it is impossible that a farm the size
of ours can pay with so many hands on it. I have never been
able to do more than pay my way and lay by a few pounds
every year with only four hands, and many would have thought
three sufficient, but with twelve—and I counted them this
morning—we must be on the highroad to ruin.”

“T will not ruin you, John. Do you know how much
money there was in your bag when you were hurt just a year
ago now?”

“Yes, I know there were thirty-three pounds.”


16 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE. ,

His wife went out of the room and returned with a leather
bag.

“Count them, John,” she said.

There were forty-eight. Fifteen pounds represented a vastly
greater sum at that time than they do at present, and John
Fletcher looked up from the counting with amazement.

“This can’t be all ours, Lucie. Your brother must have been
helping us.”

“Not with a penny, doubting man,” she laughed. “The
money is yours, all earned by the farm; perhaps not quite all,
because we have not more than half as many animals as we
had before. But, asI told you, we are growing vegetables, and
for that we must have more men than for corn. But, as you
see, it pays. Do not fear about it, John, If God should please
torestore you to health and strength most gladly will I lay
down the reins, but till then I will manage as best I may, and
with the help and advice of my brother and his friends, shall
hope, by the blessing of God, to keep all straight.”

The farm throve, but its master made but little progress
towards recovery. He was able, however, occasionally to be
carried round in a hand-litter made for him upon a plan devised
by Gaspard Vaillant, in which he was supported in a half-sitting
position, while four men bore him as if in a Sedan-chair. But
it was only occasionally that he could bear the fatigue of such
excursions. Ordinarily he lay on a couch in the farmhouse
kitchen, where he could see all that was going on there; while
in warm summer weather he was wheeled outside, and lay in
the shade of the great elm in front of the house.

The boy, Philip—for so he had been christened, after John
Fletcher’s father, — grew apace, and as soon as he was old
enough to receive instruction his father taught him his letters
out of a hornbook, until he was big enough to go down every
day to school in Canterbury. John himself was built upon a
large scale, and at quarter-staff and wrestling could, before he
married, hold his own with any of the lads of Kent, and Philip
bade fair to take after him in skill and courage. His mother

(777)
DRIVEN FROM HOME, 17

would shake her head reprovingly when he returned with his
face bruised and his clothes torn after encounters with his
school-fellows, but his father took his part.

“Nay, nay, wife,” he said one day, ‘the boy is eleven years
oid now, and must not grow up a milksop. Teach him if you
will to be honest and true, to love God, and to hold to the
faith, but in these days it needs that men should be able to use
their weapons also. There are your countrymen in France,
who ere long will be driven to take up arms for the defence of
their faith and lives from their cruel persecutors; and, as you
have told me, many of the younger men from here and else-
where will assuredly go back to aid their brethren.

“We may even have trials here. Our Queen is a Protestant,
and happily at present we can worship God as we please in
peace; but it was not so in the time of Mary, and it may be that
troubles may again fall upon the land, seeing that as yet the
Queen is not married. Moreover, Philip of Spain has pretensions
to rule here, and every Englishman may be called upon to take
up bow or bill for his faith and country. Our co-religionists in
Holland and France are both being cruelly persecuted, and it
may well be that the time will come when we shall send over
armies to their assistance. I would that the boy should grow
up both a good Christian and a stout soldier. He comes on
both sides of a fighting stock. One of my ancestors fought at
Agincourt, and another with the Black Prince.at Cressy and
Poitiers; while on your side his blood is noble, and, as we
know, the nobles of France are second to none in bravery.

“Before I met you I had thoughts of going out myself to
fight among the English bands who have engaged on the side
of the Hollanders. I had even spoken to my cousin James
about taking charge of the farm while I was away. I would
not have sold it, for Fletchers held this land before the Normans
set foot in England; but I had thoughts of borrowing money
upon it to take me out to the war, when your sweet face drove
all such matters from my mind. Therefore, Lucie, while I

would that you should teach the boy to be good and gentle in
) (777) B
18 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

his manners, so that if he ever goes among your French kins-
men he shall be able to bear himself as befits his birth on that
side, I, for my part—though, alas, I can do nothing myself—
will see that he is taught to use his arms, and to bear himself
as stoutly as an English yeoman should when there is need of it.

“So, wife, I would not have him chidden when he comes
home with a bruised face and his garments somewhat awry.
A boy who can hold his own among boys will some day hold
his own among men, and the fisticuffs in which our English
boys try their strength are as good preparation as are the
courtly sports, in which, as you tell me, young French nobles are
trained. But I would not have him backward in these either.
We Enelish, thank God, have not had much occasion to draw a
sword since we broke the strength of Scotland on Flodden Field,
and in spite of ordinances, we know less than we should do of
the use of our weapons; even the rules that every lad shall
practise shooting at the butts are less strictly observed than
they should be. But in this respect our deficiencies can be
repaired in his case, for here in Canterbury there are several
of your countrymen of noble birth, and doubtless among these
we shall be able to find an instructor for Phil. Many of them
are driven to hard shifts to procure a living; and since that bag
of yours is every day getting heavier, and we have but him to
spend it upon, we will not grudge giving him the best instruc-
tion that can be procured.”

Lucie did not dispute her husband’s will, but she neverthe-
less tried to enlist Gaspard Vaillant, who was frequently up at
the farm with his wife in the evening, for he had a sincere
liking for John Fletcher, on her side, and to get him to dissuade
her husband from putting thoughts into the boy’s head that
might lead him some day to be discontented with the quiet
life on the farm. She found, however, that Gaspard highly
approved of her husband’s determination.

“Fie upon you, Lucie. You forget that you and Marie are
both of noble blood, in that respect being of condition some-
what above myself, although I too am connected with many
DRIVEN FROM HOME 19

good families in Poitou. In other times I should have said
it were better that the boy should grow up to till the land,
which is assuredly an honourable profession, rather than to
become a military adventurer, fighting only for vainglory.
But in our days the sword is not drawn for glory, but for the
right to worship God in peace.

“No one can doubt that ere long the men of the reformed
religion will take up arms to defend their right to live and
worship God in their own way. The cruel persecutions under
Francis I., Henry IJ., and Francis II. have utterly failed in
their object. When Merindol, Cabrieres, and twenty-two
other towns and villages were destroyed in 1547, and persons
persecuted and forced to recant, or to fly as we did, it was
thought that we were but a handful whom it would be easy
to exterminate; but in spite of edict after edict, of persecution,
slaughterings, and burnings, in spite of the massacres of Am-
boise and others, the reformed religion has spread so greatly
that even the Guises are forced to recognize it as a power.
At Fontainebleau Admiral Coligny, Montmorency, the Chati-
llons, and others openly professed the reformed religion, and
argued boldly for tolerance; while Condé and Navarre, although
they declined to be present, were openly ranged on their side.
Had it not been that Henry II. and Francis were both carried
off by the manifest hand of God, the first by a spear-thrust at
a tournament, the second by an abscess in the ear, France
would have been the scene of deadly strife, for both were, when
so suddenly smitten, on the point of commencing a war of
extermination.

“But it is only now that the full strength of those who hold
the faith is manifested. Beza, the greatest of the reformers
next to Calvin himself, and twelve of our most learned and
eloquent pastors, are at Poissy disputing upon the faith with
the Cardinal of Lorraine ‘and the prelates of the Romish church,
in the presence of the young king, the princes, and the court.
It is evident that the prelates are unable to answer the argu-
ments of our champions. The Guises, I hear, are furious; for
20 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

the present Catharine, the queen mother, is anxious for peace
and toleration, and it is probable that the end of this argu-
ment at Poissy will be an edict allowing freedom of worship.
But this will only infuriate still more the Papists, urged on by
Rome and Philip of Spain. Then there will be an appeal to
arms, and the contest will be a dreadful one. Navarre, from
all I hear, has been well-nigh won over by the Guises; but his
noble wife will, all say, hold the faith to the end, and her king-
dom will follow her. Condé is as good a general as Guise,
and with him there is a host of nobles: Rochefoucauld, the
Chatillons, Soubise, Gramont, Rohan, Genlis, and a score of
others. It will be terrible, for in many cases father and son
will be ranged on opposite sides, and brother will fight against
brother.”

“But surely, Gaspard, the war will not last for years?”

“Tt may last for generations,” the weaver said gloomily,
“though not without intermissions, for I believe that after each
success on one side or the other there will be truces and con-
cessions, to be followed by fresh persecutions and fresh wars,
until either the reformed faith becomes the religion of all
France or is entirely stamped out. What is true of France is
true of Holland. Philip will annihilate the reformers there,
or they will shake off the yoke of Spain. England will be
driven to join in one or both struggles; for if papacy is
triumphant in France and Holland, Spain and France would
unite against her. So you see, sister, that in my opinion we
are at the commencement of a long and bloody struggle for
freedom of worship, and at any rate it will be good that the
boy should be trained as he would have been had you married
one of your own rank in France, in order that when he comes
to man’s estate he may be able to wield a sword worthily in
the defence of the faith.

“Had I sons I should train them as your husband intends to
train Phil. It may be that he will never be called upon to draw
a sword, but the time he has spent in acqliring its use will
not be wasted. These exercises give firmness and suppleness
DRIVEN FROM HOME. 21

to the figure, quickness to the eye, and briskness of decision to
the mind. A man who knows that he can at need defend his
life if attacked, whether against soldiers in the field or robbers
in the street, has a sense of power and self-reliance that a man
untrained in the use of the strength God has given him can
never feel. I was instructed in arms when a boy, and I am
none the worse weaver for it. Do not forget, Lucie, that the
boy has the blood of many good French families in his veins,
and you should rejoice that your husband is willing that he
shall be so trained that if the need should ever come he shall
do no discredit to his ancestors on our side. These English
have many virtues which I recognize freely, but we cannot
deny that many of them are somewhat rough and uncouth,
being wondrous lacking in manners and coarse in speech. Jam
sure that you yourself would not wish your son to grow up like
many of the young fellows who come into town on market-day.
Your son will make no worse a farmer for being trained as a
gentleman. You yourself have the training of a French lady,
and yet you manage the farm to admiration. No, no, Lucie,
I trust that between us we shall make a true Christian and
a true gentleman of him, and that if needs be he will show
himself a good soldier also.”

And so between his French relatives and his sturdy English
father, Philip Fletcher had an unusual training. Among the
Huguenots he learned to be gentle and courteous, to bear him-
self among his elders respectfully, but without fear or shyness;
to consider that while all things were of minor consequence in
comparison to the right to worship God in freedom and purity,
yet that a man should be fearless of death, ready to defend his
rights, but with moderation and without pushing them to the
injury of others; that he should be grave and decorous of
speech, and yet of a gay and cheerful spirit. He strove hard so
to deport himself, that if at any time he should return to his
mother’s country, he could take his place among her relations
without discredit. He learned to fence and to dance. Some
of the stricter of the Huguenots were of opinion that the latter
22 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

accomplishment was unnecessary, if not absolutely sinful, but
Gaspard Vaillant was firm on this point.

“Dancing is a stately and graceful exercise,” he said, ‘and
like the use of arms it greatly improves the carriage and poise
of the figure. Queen Elizabeth loves dancing, and none can
say that she is not a good Protestant. Every youth should be
taught to dance, if only he may know how to walk. I am not
one of those who think that because a man is a good Christian
he should necessarily be awkward and ungainly in speech and
manner, adverse to innocent gaities, narrow in his ideas, ill-
dressed, and ill-mannered, as I see are many of those most
extreme in religious matters in this country.”

Upon the other hand, in the school playground, under the
shadow of the grand cathedral, Phil was as English as any,
being foremost in their rough sports, and ready for any fun or
mischief. He fought many battles, principally because the
difference of his manner from that of the others often caused
him to be called “Frenchy.” The epithet in itself was not dis-
pleasing to him, for he was passionately attached to his mother,
and had learned from her to love her native country; but
applied in derision it was regarded by him as an insult, and
many a tough battle did he fight, until his prowess was so
generally acknowledged that the name, though still used, was
no longer one of disrespect.

In figure he took after his French rather than his English
ancestors. Of more than average height for his age, he was
apparently slighter in build than his school-fellows; it was not
that he lacked width of chest, but that his bones were smaller
and his frame less heavy. The English boys among themselves
sometimes spoke of him as “skinny,” a word considered specially
appropriate to Frenchmen; but though he lacked their round-
ness and fulness of limb, and had not an ounce of superfluous
flesh about him, he was all sinew and wire, and while in sheer
strength he was fully their equal, he was incomparably quicker
and more active. Although in figure and carriage he took after
his mother’s countrymen, his features and expression were
DRIVEN FROM HOME 23

wholly English. His hair was light-brown, his eyes a bluish-
gray, his complexion fair, and his mouth and eyes alive with
fun and merriment. This, however, seldom found vent in
laughter. His intercourse with the grave Huguenots, saddened
by their exile, and quiet and restrained in manner, taught him
to repress mirth which would have appeared to them unseemly,
and to remain a grave and silent listener to their talk of their
unhappy country, and their discussions on religious matters.

To his school-fellows he was somewhat of an enigma. There
was no more good-tempered young fellow in the school, no one
more ready to do a kindness; but they did not understand
why, when he was pleased, he smiled while others roared with
laughter; why when in their sports he exerted himself to the
utmost, he did so silently while others shouted; why his words
were always few, and when he differed from others, he expressed
himself with a courtesy that puzzled them; why he never
wrangled nor quarrelled; and why any trick played upon an
old woman or a defenceless person roused him to fury.

As a rule, when boys do not quite understand one of their
number they dislike him. Philip Fletcher was an exception.
They did not understand him, but they consoled themselves
under this by the explanation that he was half a French-
man, and could not be expected to be like a regular English
boy, and they recognized instinctively that he was their
superior.

Much of Philip’s time was spent at the house of his uncle,
and among the Huguenot colony. Here also were many boys
of his own age; these went to a school of their own, taught
by the pastor of their own church, who held weekly services in
the crypt of the cathedral, which had been granted to them for
that purpose by the dean.

While with his English school-fellows he joined in sports and
games, among these French lads the talk was sober and quiet.
Scarce a week passed but some fugitive, going through Canter-
bury, brought the latest news of the situation in France, and
the sufferings of their co-religionist friends and relations
24 ST. BARTHOLOMEWS EVE.

there, and the political events were the chief topics of con-
versation.

The concessions made at the Conference of Poissy had
infuriated the Catholics, and the war was brought on by the
Duke of Guise, who, passing with a large band of retainers
through the town of Vassy in Champagne, found the Hugue-
nots there worshipping in a barn. . His retainers attacked them,
slaying men, women, and children. Some sixty being killed,
and a hundred or more left terribly wounded.

The Protestant nobles demanded that Francis of Guise
should be punished for this atrocious massacre, but in vain,
and Guise, on entering Paris in defiance of Catharine’s pro-
hibition, was received with royal honours by the populace.
The Cardinal of Lorraine, the duke’s brother, the duke himself,
and their allies, the Constable Montmorency and Marshal Saint
André, assumed so threatening an attitude that Catharine left
Paris and went to Mélun, her sympathies at this period
being with the reformers, by whose aid alone she thought that
she could maintain her influence in the state against that of
the Guises.

Condé was forced to leave Paris with the Protestant nobles,
and from all parts of France the Huguenots marched to assist
him. Coligny, the greatest of the Huguenot leaders, hesitated,
being, above all things, reluctant to plunge France into civil
war; but the entreaties of his noble wife, of his brothers and
friends, overpowered his reluctance. Condé left Meaux with
fifteen hundred horse with the intention of seizing the person
of the young king, but he had been forestalled by the Guises,
and moved to Orleans, where he took up his head-quarters.
All over France the Huguenots rose in such numbers as
astonished their enemies, and soon became possessed of a great
many important cities.

Their leaders had endeavoured, in every way, to impress
upon them the necessity of behaving as men who fought only
for the right to worship God, and for the most part these
injunctions were strictly obeyed. In one matter alone the
DRIVEN FROM HOME. 25

Huguenots could not be restrained. For thirty years the
people of their faith had been executed, tortured, and slain,
and their hatred of the Romish church manifested itself by the
destruction of images and pictures of all kinds in the churches
of the towns of which they obtained possession.

Only in the south-east of France was there any exception
to the general excellence of their conduct. Their persecution
here had always been very severe, and in the town of Orange
the papal troops committed a massacre almost without a
parallel in its atrocity. The Baron of Adrets, on behalf of the
Protestants, took revenge by massacres equally atrocious; but
while the butchery at Orange was hailed with approbation and
delight by the Catholic leaders, those promoted by Adrets
excited such a storm of indignation among the Huguenots of
all classes that he shortly afterwards went over to the other
side, and was found fighting against the party he had disgraced.
At Toulouse three thousand Huguenots were massacred, and
in other towns where the Catholics were in a majority terrible
persecutions were carried out.

It was nearly a year after the massacre at Vassy before the
two armies met in battle. The Huguenots had suffered greatly
by the delays caused by attempts at negotiations and compro-
mise. Condé’s army was formed entirely of volunteers, and
the nobles and gentry, as their means became exhausted, were
compelled to return home with their retainers, while many
were forced to march to their native provinces to assist their
co-religionists there to defend themselves from their Catholic
neighbours.

England had entered to a certain extent upon the war,
Elizabeth after long vacillation having at length agreed to
send six thousand men to hold the towns of Havre, Dieppe,
‘and Rouen, providing these three towns were handed over to
her, thus evincing the same calculating greed that marked her
subsequent dealings with the Dutch in their struggle for free-
dom. In vain Condé and Coligny begged her not to impose
conditions that Frenchmen would hold to be infamous to them.
26 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

In vain Throgmorton, her ambassador at Paris, warned her
that she would alienate the Protestants of France from her,
while the possession of the cities would avail her but little.
In vain her minister, Cecil, urged her frankly to ally herself
with the Protestants. From the first outbreak of the war for
freedom of conscience in France to the termination of the
struggle in Holland, Elizabeth baffled both friends and enemies
by her vacillation and duplicity, and her utter want of faith,
doling out aid in the spirit of a huckster rather than a queen,
so that she was in the end even more hated by the Protestants
of Holland and France than by the Catholics of France and
Spain.

To those who look only at the progress made by England
during the reign of Elizabeth—thanks to her great ministers,
her valiant sailors and soldiers, long years of peace at home,
and the spirit and energy of her people,—Elizabeth may appear
a great monarch. To those who study her character from her
relations with the struggling Protestants of Holland and Trance,
it will appear that she was, although intellectually great, mor-
ally one of the meanest, falsest, and most despicable of women.

Rouen, although stoutly defended by the inhabitants, sup-
ported by Montgomery with eight hundred soldiers and five
hundred Englishmen under Killegrew of Pendennis, was at
last forced to surrender. The terms granted to the garrison
were basely violated, and many of the Protestants put to death.
The King of Navarre, who had, since he joined the Catholic
party, shown the greatest zeal in their cause, commanded the
besiegers. He was wounded in one of the attacks upon the town,
and died shortly afterwards.

The two armies finally met on the 19th of December, 1562.
The Catholic party had sixteen thousand foot, two thousand
horse, and twenty-two cannon; the Huguenots four thousand
horse, but only eight thousand infantry and five cannon. Condé
at first broke the Swiss pikemen of the Guises, while Coligny
scattered the cavalry of Constable Montmorency, who was
wounded and taken prisoner; but the infantry of the Catholics
AN IMPORTANT DECISION. 27

defeated those of the Huguenots, the troops sent by the Ger-
man princes to aid the latter behaving with great cowardice.
Condé’s horse was killed under him, and he was made prisoner.
Coligny drew off the Huguenot cavalry and the remains of the
infantry in good order, and made his retreat unmolested.

The Huguenots had been worsted in the battle, and the loss
of Condé was a serious blow; but on the other hand Marshal
Saint André was killed and the Constable Montmorency a
prisoner. Coligny was speedily reinforced, and the assassina-
tion of the Duke of Guise by an enthusiast of the name of
Jean Poltrot more than equalized matters.

Both parties being anxious to treat, terms of peace were
arranged on the condition that the Protestant lords should be
reinstated in their honours and possessions; all nobles and
gentlemen should be allowed to celebrate in their own houses
the worship of the reformed religion; that in every bailiwick
the Protestants should be allowed to hold their religious services
in the suburbs of one city, and should also be permitted to
celebrate it in one or two places inside the walls of all the cities
they held at the time of the signature of the truce. This agree-
ment was known as the Treaty of Amboise, and sufficed to
secure peace for France until the latter end of 1567.

CHAPTER II
AN IMPORTANT DECISION.

NE day in June, 1567, Gaspard Vaillant and his wife went

up to Fletcher's farm.

“T have come up to have a serious talk with you, John,
about Philip. You see, in a few months he will be sixteen.
He is already taller than I am. René and Gustave both tell
me that they have taught him all they know with sword and
dagger; and both have been stout men-at-arms in their time,
28 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

and assure me that the lad could hold his own against any
young French noble of his own age, and against not a few men.
It is time that we came to some conclusion about his future.”

“T have thought of it much, Gaspard. Lying here so help-
less, my thoughts do naturally turn to him. The boy has grown
almost beyond my power of understanding. Sometimes when
I hear him laughing and jesting with the men, or with some of
his school friends whom he brings up here, it seems to me that
I see myself again in him; and that he is a merry young fellow,
full of life and fun, and able to hold his own at single-stick, or
to foot it round the maypole with any lad in Kent of his age.
Then again, when he is talking with his mother, or giving
directions in her name to the French labourers, I see a dif-
ferent lad altogether: grave and quiet, with a gentle, courteous
way, fit for a young noble ten years his senior. I don’t know
but that between us, Gaspard, we have made a mess of it, and
that it might have been better for him to have grown up
altogether as I was, with no thought or care save the manage-
ment of his farm, with a liking for sport and fun when such
came in his way.”

“Not at all, not at all,” Gaspard Vaillant broke in hastily,
“we have made a fine man of him, John; and it seems to me
that he possesses the best qualities of both our races. He is
frank and hearty, full of life and spirits when, as you say,
occasion offers, giving his whole heart either to work or play,
with plenty of determination, and what you English call back-
bone; there is, in fact, a solid English foundation to his char-
acter. Then from our side he has gained the gravity of
demeanour that belongs to us Huguenots, with the courtesy of
manner, the carriage and bearing of a young Frenchman of
good blood. Above all, John, he is a sober Christian, strong
in the reformed faith, and with a burning hatred against its
persecutors, be they French or Spanish. Well, then, being
what he is, what is to be done with him? In the first place,
are you bent upon his remaining here? I think that with his
qualities and disposition it would be well that for a while he


KES A PROPOSAL

MA

NT

ATLLA

SPARD V.

\
AN IMPORTANT DECISION. 29

had a wider scope. Lucie has managed the farm for the last
fifteen years, and can well continue to do so for another ten if
God should spare her; and my own opinion is, that for that
time he might be left to try his strength, and to devote to the
good cause the talents God has given him, and the skill and
training that he has acquired through us, and that it would be
for his good to make the acquaintance of his French kinsfolk
and to see something of the world.”

“J know that is Lucie’s wish also, Gaspard; and I have
frequently turned the matter over in my mind, and have con-
cluded that should it be your wish also, it would be well for
me to throw no objections in the way. I shall miss the boy
sorely; but young birds cannot be kept always in the nest,
and I think that the lad has such good stuff in him that it
were a pity to keep him shut up here.”

“ Now, John,” his brother-in-law went on, “although I may
never have said quite as much before, I have said enough for
you to know what my intentions are. God has not been pleased
to bestow children upon us, and Philip is our nearest relation,
and stands to us almost in the light of a son. God has blest
my work for the last twenty years, and though I have done,
I hope, fully my share towards assisting my countrymen in dis-
tress, putting by always one-third of my income for that pur-
pose, I am a rich man. The factory has grown larger and
larger; not because we desired greater gains, but that I might
give employment to more and more of my countrymen. Since
the death of Lequoc twelve years ago it has been entirely in
my hands, and living quietly as we have done, a greater por-
tion of the profits have been laid by every year; therefore,
putting out of account the money that my good sister has laid
by, Philip will start in life not ill equipped.

“T know that the lad has said nothing of any wishes he may
entertain—at his age it would not be becoming for him to do
so until his elders speak,—but of late when we have read to
him letters from our friends in France, or when he has listened
to the tales of those freshly arrived from their ruined homes,
30 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

I have noted that his colour rose, that his fingers tightened
as if on a sword, and could see how passionately he was long-
ing to join those who were struggling against their cruel op-
pressors. Not less interested has he been in the noble struggle
that the Dutch are making against the Spaniards; a struggle
in which many of our exiled countrymen are sharing.

“One of his mother’s cousins, the Count de La Noiie, is, as
you know, prominent among the Huguenot leaders, and others
of our relatives are ranged on the same side. At present there
is a truce, but both parties feel that it is a hollow one; never-
theless it offers a good opportunity for him to visit his mother’s
family. Whether there is any prospect of our ever recovering
the lands which were confiscated on our flight is uncertain.
Should the Huguenots ever maintain their ground and win
freedom of worship in France, it may be that the confiscated
estates will in many cases be restored; as to that, however,
Iam perfectly indifferent. Were I a younger man I should
close my factory, return to France, and bear my share in the
defence of the faith, As it is, I should like to send Philip
over as my substitute.

“It would at any rate be well that he should make the
acquaintance of his kinsfolk in France, although even I should
not wish that he should cease to regard England as his native
country and home. Hundreds of young men, many no older
than himself, are in Holland fighting against the persecutors,
and risking their lives, though having no kinship with the
Dutch; impelled simply by their love of the faith and their
hatred of persecution. I have lately, John, though the matter
has been kept quiet, purchased the farms of Blunt and Mardyke,
your neighbours on either hand. Both are nearly twice the
size of your own, — I have arranged with the men that for the
present they shall continue to work them as my tenants, as
they were before the tenants of Sir James Holford, who, having
wasted his money at court, has been forced to sell a portion of
his estates.

“Thus some day Phil will come into possession of land
AN IMPORTANT DECISION. 31

which will place him in a good position, and I am prepared to
add to it considerably. Sir James Holford still gambles away
his possessions, and I have explained to his notary my willing-
ness to extend my purchases at any time, should he desire to
sell. I should at once commence the building of a comfortable
mansion; but it is scarce worth while to do so, for it is pro-
bable that before many years Sir James may be driven to part
with his Hall as well as his land. In the meantime I am ready
to provide Philip with an income which will enable him to take
his place with credit among our kinsfolk, and to raise a com-
pany of some fifty men to follow him in the field, should
Condé and the Huguenots again be driven to struggle against
the Guises. What do you think?”

“T think in the first place that Lucie and I should be
indeed grateful to you, Gaspard, for your generous offer. As
to his going to France, that I must talk over with his mother,
whose wishes in this, as in all respects, are paramount with me.
But I may say at once, that lying here as I do, thinking of the
horrible cruelties and oppressions to which men and women
are subjected for the faith’s sake in France and Holland, I feel
that we, who are happily able to worship in peace and quiet,
ought to hesitate at no sacrifice on their behalf; and, moreover,
seeing that owing to my affliction he owes what he is rather
to his mother and you than to me, I think your wish that he
should make the acquaintance of his kinsfolk in France is a
natural one. I have no wish for the lad to become a courtier,
English or French, nor that he should, as Englishmen have
done before now in foreign armies, gain great honour and
reputation; but if it is his wish to fight on behalf of the
persecuted people of God, whether in France or in Holland, he
will do so with my heartiest good-will, and if he die he could
not die in a more glorious cause. Let us talk of other matters
now, Gaspard, this is one that needs thought before more
words are spoken.”

Two days later John Fletcher had a long talk with Phil.
The latter was delighted when he heard the project, which was
32 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

greatly in accord with both sides of his character. As an
English lad he looked forward eagerly to adventure and peril;
as French and of the reformed religion he was rejoiced at the
thought of fighting with the Huguenots against their persecu-
tors, and of serving under the men with whose names and
reputations he was so familiar.

“TI do not know your uncle’s plans for you as yet, Phil,” his
father said. “He went not into such matters, leaving these
to be talked over after it had been settled whether his offer
should be accepted or not. He purposes well by you, and
regards you as his heir. He has already bought Blunt and
Mardyke’s farms, and purposes to buy other parts of the estates
of Sir James Holford, as they may slip through the knight’s
fingers at the gambling-table. Therefore in time you will
become a person of standing in the county; and although I
care little for these things now, Phil, yet I should like you to
be somewhat more than a mere squire; and if you serve
for a while under such great captains as Coligny and Condé
it will give you reputation and weight. Your good uncle
and his friends think little of such matters, but I own that I
am not uninfluenced by them. Coligny, for example, is a man
whom all honour, and that honour is not altogether because he
is leader of the reformed faith, but because he is a great
soldier.

“T do not think that honour and reputation are to be
despised. Doubtless the first thing of all is that a man should
be a good Christian. But that will in no way prevent him from
being a great man; nay, it will add to his greatness. You have
noble kinsfolk in France, to some of whom your uncle will
doubtless commit you, and it may be that you will have oppor-
tunities of distinguishing yourself. Should such occur I am
sure you will avail yourself of them, as one should do who
comes of good stock on both sides; for although we Fletchers
have been but yeomen from generation to generation, we have
been ever ready to take and give our share of hard blows when
they were going; and there have been few battles fought since
AN IMPORTANT DECISION. 33

William the Norman came over that a Fletcher has not fought
in the English ranks, whether in France, in Scotland, or in our
own troubles.

“Therefore it seems to me but natural that for many reasons
you should desire at your age to take part in the fighting;
as an Englishman, because Englishmen fought six years ago
under the banner of Condé; as a Protestant, on behalf of our
persecuted brethren; as a Frenchman by your mother’s side,
because you have kinsfolk engaged, and because it is the Pope
and Philip of Spain, as well as the Guises, who are in fact
battling to stamp out French liberty. Of one thing I am
sure, my boy, you will disgrace neither an honest English name
nor the French blood in your veins, nor your profession as a
Christian and a Protestant. There are Englishmen gaining
credit on the Spanish Main under Drake and Hawkins, there
are Englishmen fighting manfully by the side of the Dutch,
there are others in the armies of the Protestant princes. of
Germany, and in none of these matters are they so deeply
concerned as you are in the affairs of France and religion.

“T shall miss you, of course, Philip, and that sorely; but I
have long seen that this would probably be the upshot of your
training, and since I can myself take no share in adventure
beyond the walls of this house, I shall feel that I am living
again in you. But, lad, never forget that you are English. You
are Philip Fletcher, come of an old Kentish stock, and though
you may be living with French kinsfolk: and friends, always
keep uppermost the fact that you are an Englishman who
sympathizes with France, and not a Frenchman with some
English blood in your veins. I have given you up greatly to
your French relations here; but if you win credit and honour
I would have it won by my son, Philip Fletcher, born in
England of an English father, and who will one day be a
gentleman and land-owner in the county of Kent.”

“T shan’t forget that, father,” Philip said earnestly. ‘I have
never regarded myself as in any way French, although speaking

the tongue as well as English, and being so much among my
(777)
34 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

mother’s friends. But living here with you, where our people
have lived so many years, hearing from you the tales from our
history, seeing these English fields around me, and being at
an English school among English boys, I have ever felt that
I am English, though in no way regretting the Huguenot blood
that I inherit from my mother. Believe me, that if I fight in
France it will be as an Englishman who has drawn his sword
in the quarrel, and rather as one who hates oppression and
cruelty than because I have French kinsmen engaged in it.”

“That is well, Philip. You may be away for some years,
but I trust that on your return you will find me sitting here
to welcome you back. A creaking wheel lasts long. I have
everything to make my life happy and peaceful—the best of
wives, a well-ordered farm, and no thought or care as to my
worldly affairs; and since it has been God’s will that such
should be my life, my interest will be wholly centred in you,
and I hope to see your children playing round me, or, for
ought I know, your grandchildren, for we are a long-lived race.
And now, Philip, you had best go down and see your uncle
and thank him for his good intentions towards you. Tell him
that I wholly agree with his plans, and that if he and your aunt
will come up this evening we will enter farther into them.”

That evening John Fletcher learned that it was the intention
of Gaspard that his wife should accompany Philip.

‘Marie yearns to see her people again,” he said, “and the
present is a good time for her to do so; for when the war
once breaks out again none can say how long it will last or how
it will terminate. Her sister and Lucie’s, the Countess de
Laville, has, as you know, frequently written urgently for Marie
to go over and pay her a visit. Hitherto I have never been
able to bring myself to spare her, but I feel that this is so
good an opportunity that I must let her go for a few weeks.
Philip could not be introduced under better auspices. He
will escort Marie to his aunt’s, remain there with her, and
then see her on board ship again at La Rochelle, after which,
doubtless, he will remain at his aunt’s, and when -the struggle
AN IMPORTANT DECISION. 35

begins will ride with his cousin Francois. I have hesitated
whether I should go also. But, in the first place, my business
would get on but badly without me; ia the second, although
Marie might travel safely enough, I might be arrested were
I recognized as one who had left the kingdom contrary to the
edicts; and lastly, I never was on very good terms with her
family. :

“Emilie, in marrying the Count de Laville, made a match
somewhat above her own rank; for the Lavilles were a wealthier
and more powerful family than that of Charles de Moulins, her
father. On the other hand, I was, although of good birth, yet
inferior in consideration to De Moulins, although my lands ©
were broader than his; consequently we saw little of Emilie
after our marriage. Therefore my being with Marie would in
no way increase the warmth of the welcome that she and
Philip will receive. I may say that the estrangement was,
perhaps, more my fault than that of the Lavilles. I chose to
fancy there was a coolness on their part, which probably existed
only in my imagination. Moreover, shortly after my marriage
the religious troubles grew serious, and we were all too much
absorbed in our own perils and those of our poorer neighbours
to think of travelling about, or of having family gatherings,

“ At any rate, I feel that Philip could not enter into life more
favourably than as cousin of Francois de Laville, who is but
two years or so his senior, and who will, his mother wrote to
Marie, ride behind that gallant gentleman Francois de la Noiie
if the war breaks out again. Iam glad to feel confident that
Philip will in no way bring discredit upon his relations. I
shall at once order clothes for him suitable for the occasion.
They will be such as will befit an English gentleman; good in
material but sober in colour, for the Huguenots eschew bright
hues. I will take his measure, and seud up to a friend in
London for a helmet, breast, and back pieces, together with
offensive arms, sword, dagger, and pistols. I have already
written to correspondents at Southampton and Plymouth for
news as to the sailing of a ship bound for La Rochelle. There
36 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

he had better take four men into his service, for in these days
it is by no means safe to ride through France unattended,
especially when one is of the reformed religion. The roads
abound with disbanded soldiers and robbers, while in the
villages a fanatic might at’ any time bring on a religious
tumult. I have many correspondents at La Rochelle, and will
write to one asking him to select four stout fellows, who
showed their courage in the last war and can be relied on for
good and faithful service. I will also get him to buy horses
and make all arrangements for the journey. Marie will write
to her sister. Lucie, perhaps, had better write under the same
cover; for although she can remember but little of Emilie, see-
ing that she was fully six years her junior, it would be natural
that she should take the opportunity to correspond with her.

“In one respect, Phil,” he went on, turning to his nephew,
“you will find yourself at some disadvantage, perhaps, among
young Frenchmen, You can ride well, and I think can sit a
horse with any of them; but of the ménage, that is to say, the
purely ornamental management of a horse, in which they are
most carefully instructed, you know nothing. It is one of the
tricks of fashion, of which plain men like myself know but
little; and though I have often made inquiries, I have found
no one who could instruct you. However, these delicacies
are rather for courtly displays than for the rough work of war;
though it must be owned that in single combat between two
swordsmen, he who has the most perfect control over his horse,
and can make the animal wheel or turn, press upon his oppon-
ent, or give way by a mere touch of his leg or hand, possesses
a considerable advantage over the man who is unversed in such
matters. I hope you will not feel the want of it, and at any
rate it has not been my fault that you have had no opportunity
of acquiring the art. :

“The tendency is more and more to fight on foot. The duel
has taken the place of the combat in the lists, and the pikeman
counts for as much in the winning of a battle as the mounted
man. You taught us that at Cressy and Agincourt; but we
AN IMPORTANT DECISION. 37

have been slow to learn the lesson which was brought home
to you in your battles with the Scots, and in your own civil
struggles. It is the bow and the pike that have made the
English soldier famous; while in France, where the feudal
system still prevails, horsemen still form a large proportion of
our armies, and the jousting lists and the exercise of the ménage
still occupy a large share in the training and amusements of
the young men of noble families.”

Six weeks later Philip Fletcher landed at La Rochelle with his
aunt and her French serving-maid. When the ship came into
port, the clerk of a trader there came on board at once, and on
the part of his employer begged Madame Vaillant and her son
to take up their abode at his house, he having been warned of
their coming by his valued correspondent, Monsieur Vaillant.
A porter was engaged to carry up their luggage to the house,
whither the clerk at once conducted them. From his having
lived so long among the Huguenot colony, the scene was less
strange to Philip than it would have been to most English
lads. La Rochelle was a strongly Protestant city, and the
sober-coloured costumes of the people differed but little from
those to which he was accustomed in the streets of Canterbury.
He himself and his aunt attracted no attention whatever from
passers-by, her costume being exactly similar to those worn by
the wives of merchants, while Philip would have passed any-
where as a young Huguenot gentleman, in his doublet of
dark puce cloth, slashed with gray, his trunks of the same
colour, and long gray hose.

“A proper-looking young gentleman,” a market-woman said
to her daughter as he passed. “Another two or three years
and he will make a rare defender of the faith, He must
be from Normandy, with his fair complexion and light eyes.
There are not many of the true faith in the north.”

They were met by the merchant at the door of his house.

“Tam glad indeed to see you again, Madame Vaillant,” he
said. “It is some twenty years now since you and your good
husband and your sister hid here for three days before we
a

38 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

could smuggle you on board a ship. Ah! those were bad times;
though there have been worse since. But since our people
showed. that they did not intend any longer to be slaughtered
unresistingly, things have gone better here at least, and for the
last four years the slaughterings and murders have ceased. You
are but little changed, madame, since I saw you last.”

“TI have lived a quiet and happy life, my good Monsieur
Bertram; free from all strife and care, save for anxiety about
our people here. Why cannot Catholics and Protestants live
quietly side by side here, as they do in England 4”

“We should ask nothing better, madame.”

At this moment a girl came hurrying down the stairs.

“This is my daughter Jean, madame. Why were you not
down before, Jean?” he asked sharply. “I told you to place
Suzette at the casement to warn you when our visitors were in
sight, so that you should, as was proper, be at the door to meet
them. I suppose instead of that you had the maid arranging
your head-gear, or some such worldly folly.”

The girl coloured hotly, for her father had hit upon the
truth.

“Young people will be young people, Monsieur Bertram,”
Madame Vaillant said smiling, “and my husband and I are not
of those who think that it is necessary to carry a prim face
and to attire one’s self in ugly garments as a proof of religion.
Youth is the time for mirth and happiness, and nature teaches
a maiden what is becoming to her; why then should we blame
her for setting off the charms God has given her to their best
advantage?”

By this time they had reached the upper storey, and the
merchant’s daughter hastened to relieve Madame Vaillant of
her wraps.

“This is my nephew, of whom my hushand wrote to you,”
the latter said to the merchant, when Philip entered the room
—he having lingered at the door to pay the porters, and to
see that the luggage, which had come up close behind them,
was stored
AN IMPORTANT DECISION 39

“He looks active and strong, madame; he has the figure of
a fine swordsman.”

“He has been well taught, and will do no discredit to our
race, Monsieur Bertram. His father is a strong and powerful
man, even for an Englishman, and though Philip does not
follow his figure he has something of his strength.”

“They are wondrous strong, these Englishmen,” the trader
said. “TI have seen among their sailors men who are taller
by a head than most of us here, and who look strong enough
to take a bull by the horns and hold him. But had it not
been for your nephew’s fair hair and gray eyes, his complexion,
and the smile on his lips—we have almost forgotten how to
smile in France—I should hardly have taken him for an
Englishman.”

“There is nothing extraordinary in that, Monsieur Bertram,
when his mother is French, and he has lived greatly in the
society of my husband and myself, and among the Huguenot
colony at Canterbury.”

‘Have you succeeded in getting the horses and the four
men for us, Monsieur Bertram?” Philip asked.

“Yes, everything is in readiness for your departure to-
morrow. Madame will, I suppose, ride behind you upon a
pillion, and her maid behind one of the troopers. I have, in
accordance with Monsieur Vaillant’s instructions, bought a
horse, which I think you will be pleased with, for Guise him-
self might ride upon it without feeling that he was ill mounted,
I was fortunate in lighting on such an animal. It was the
property of a young noble, who rode hither from Navarre and
was sailing for England. I imagine he bore despatches from
the queen to her majesty of England. He had been set upon
by robbers on the way; they took everything he possessed,
and held him prisoner, doubtless meaning to get a ransom for
him; but he managed to slip off while they slept and to’ mount
his horse, with which he easily left the varlets behind, although
they chased him for some distance. So when he came here he
offered to sell his horse to obtain an outfit and money for his
40 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

voyage; and the landlord of the inn, who is a friend of mine,
knowing that I had been inquiring for a good animal, brought
him to me, and we soon struck a bargain.”

“Tt was hard on him to lose his horse in that fashion,”
Philip said; “and I am sorry for it, though I may be the
gainer thereby.”

“He did not seem to mind much,” the merchant said.
‘‘ Horses are good and abundant in Navarre, and when I said
I did not like to take advantage of his strait he only laughed
and said he had three or four others as good at home. He did
say, though, that he would like to know if it was to be in good
hands. I assured him that on that ground he need not fear ; for
that I had bought it for a young gentleman, nearly related to
the Countess de Laville. He said that was well, and seemed
glad indeed that it was not to be ridden by one of the brigands,
into whose hands he fell.”

“And the men. Are they trustworthy fellows?”

“They are stout men-at-arms. They are Gascons all, and
rode behind Coligny in the war, and according to their own
account performed wonders; but as Gascons are given to boast-
ing, I paid not much heed to that. However, they were re-
commended to me by a friend, a large wine-grower, for whom
they have been working for the last two years. He says they
are honest and industrious, and they are leaving him only
because they are anxious for a change, and deeming that
troubles were again approaching, wanted to enter the service
of some Huguenot lord who would be likely to take the field.
He was lamenting the fact to me, when I said that it seemed
to me they were just the men I was in search of ; and I accord-
ingly saw them, and engaged them on the understanding
that at the end of a month you should be free to discharge
them if you were not satisfied with them, and that equally they
could leave your service if they did not find it suit.

“They have arms, of course, and such armour as they need,
and I have bought four serviceable horses for their use, to
gether with a horse to carry your baggage, but which will
AN IMPORTANT DECISION, 4l

serve for your body-servant. J have not found a man for
that office. I knew of no one who would, as I thought, suit
you, and in such a business it seemed to me better that you
should wait and choose for yourself, for in the matter of ser-
vants everyone has his fancies. Some like a silent knave, while
others prefer a merry one. Some like a tall proper fellow,
who can fight if needs be; others a staid man, who will do
his duty and hold his tongue, who can cook a good dinner and
groom ahorse well. It is certain you will never find all virtues
combined. One man may be all that you wish, but he is a liar;
another helps himself; a third is too fond of the bottle. In
this matter, then, I did not care to take the responsibility, but
have left-it for you to choose for yourself.”

“J shall be more likely to make a mistake than you will,
Monsieur Bertram,” Philip said with a laugh.

“Perhaps so, but then it will be your own mistake; and a
man chafes less at the shortcomings of one whom he has
chosen himself than at those of one who has, as it were, been
forced upon him.”

“Well, there will be no hurry in that matter,” Philip said.
‘T can get on well enough without a servant fora time. Up to
the present I have certainly never given a thought as to what
kind of man I should want as a servant, and I should like
time to think over a matter which is, from what you say, so
important.”

“ Assuredly it is important, young sir. If you should take
the field you will find that your comfort greatly depends upon
it. A sharp, active knave, who will ferret out good quarters
for you, turn you out a good meal from anything he can get
hold of, bring your horse up well groomed in the morning and
your armour brightly polished; who will not le to’ you over-
much or rob you overmuch, and who will only get drunk at
times when you can spare his services. Ah! he would be a
treasure to you. But assuredly such a man is not to be found
every day.”

“And of course,” Marie put in, “in addition to what you
42 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

have said, Monsieur Bertram, it would be necessary that he
should be one of our religion, and fervent and strong in the
faith.”

“My dear lady, I was mentioning possibilities,” the trader
said, “It is of course advisable that he should be a Huguenot,
it is certainly essential that he should not be a Papist; but
beyond this we need not inquire too closely. You cannot ex-
pect the virtues of an archbishop and the capacity of a horse-
boy. If he can find a man embracing the qualities of both, by
all means let your son engage him; but as he will require him
to be a good cook and a good groom, and he will not require
religious instruction from him, the former points are those on
which I should advise him to lay most stress, And now, Madame
Vaillant, will you let me lead you into the next room, where,
as my daughter has for some time been trying to make me under-
stand, a meal is ready. And I doubt not that you are also ready ;
for truly those who travel by sea are seldom able to enjoy food,
save when they are much accustomed to voyaging. Though
they tell me that after a time even those with the most delicate
stomachs recover their appetites, and are able to enjoy the
rough fare they get on board a ship.”

After the meal was over the merchant took Philip to the
stables, where the new purchases had been put up. The men
were not there, but the ostler brought out Philip’s horse, with
which he was delighted. .

‘He will not tire under his double load,” the merchant said ;
“and with only your weight upon him a foeman would be well
mounted indeed to overtake you.”

“I would rather that you put it, Monsieur Bertram, that a
foeman needs be well mounted to escape me.”

“Well, I hope it will be that way,” his host replied smiling.
“But in fighting, such as we have here, there are constant
changes; the party that is pursued one day is the pursuer a
week later, and of the two, you know, speed is of much more
importance in flight than in pursuit. If you cannot overtake
a foe, well, he gets away, and you may have better fortune
AN IMPORTANT DECISION. 43

next time; but if you can’t get away from a foe, the chances are
you may never have another opportunity of doing so.”

“Perhaps you are right. In fact, now I think of it, I am
sure you are; though I hope it will not often happen that we
shall have to depend for safety on the speed of our horses. At
any rate, I am delighted with him, Monsieur Bertram, and I
thank you greatly for procuring so fine an animal for me. If
the four men turn out to be as good of their kind as the horse,
I shall be well set up indeed.”

Early the next morning the four men came round to the
merchant’s, and Philip went down with him into the entry-hall
where they were. He was well satisfied with their appearance.
They were stout fellows, from twenty-six to thirty years old.
All were soberly dressed, and wore steel caps and breast-pieces,
and carried long swords by their sides. In spite of the serious
expression of their faces, Philip saw that all were in high if
restrained spirits at again taking service.

“This is your employer, the Sicur Philip Fletcher. I have
warranted that he shall find you good and true men, and I
hope you will do justice to my recommendation.”

“We will do our best,” Roger, the eldest of the party, said.
“We are all right glad to be moving again. It is not as if we
had been bred on the soil here, and a man never takes to a
strange place as to one he was born in.”

“You are Gascons, Maitre Bertram tells me?” Philip said.

“Yes, sir; we were driven out from there ten years ago,
when the troubles were at their worst. Our fathers were both
killed, and we travelled with our mothers and sisters by night
through the country till we got to La Rochelle.”

“You say both your fathers. How are you related to each
other ?”

“Jacques and I are brothers,” Roger said, touching the
youngest of the party on his shoulder. ‘Eustace and Henri are
brothers, and are our cousins. Their father and ours were
brothers. When the troubles broke out we four took service
with the Count de Luc, and followed him throughout the war.
44 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

When it was over we came back here. Our mothers had mar-
ried again. Some of our sisters had taken husbands too, others
were in service; therefore we remained here rather than
return to Gascony, where our friends and relations had all been
either killed or dispersed. We were lucky in getting employ-
ment together, but were right glad when we heard that
there was an opening again for service. For the last two years
we have been looking forward to it; for, as everyone sees, it
cannot be long before the matter must be fought out again.
And, in truth, we have been wearying for the time to come;
for after having had a year of fighting one does not settle
down readily to tilling the soil. You will find that you can
rely on us, sir, for faithful service; we all bore a good reputa-
tion as stout fighters, and during the time we were in harness
before we none of us got into trouble for being overfond of the
wine-pots.”

“T think you will suit me very well,” Philip said, “and I
hope that my service will suit you. Although an Englishman
by birth and name, my family have suffered persecution here
as yours have done, and I am as warmly affected to the Hugue-
not cause as yourselves. If there is danger you will not find
me lacking in leading you, and so far as I can I shall try to
make my service a comfortable one and to look after your
welfare. We shall be ready to start in half an hour, therefore
have the horses round at the door in that time. One of the
pillions is to be placed on my own horse. You had better put
the other for the maid behind your saddle, Roger; you being,
I take it, the oldest of your party, had better take charge of
her.” The men saluted and went out.

“J like their looks much,” Philip said to the merchant.
“Stout fellows and cheerful, I should say. Like my aunt I
don’t see why we should carry long faces, Monsieur Bertram,
because we have reformed our réligion, and I believe that a light
heart and good spirits will stand wear and tear better than a
sad visage.”

The four men were no less pleased with their new employer
IN A FRENCH CHATEAU. 45

“That is a lad after my own heart,” Roger said as they went
out. “Quick and alert, pleasant of face, and yet, I will be
bound, not easily turned from what he has set his mind to.
He bears himself well, and I doubt not can use his weapons.
I don’t know what stock he comes from on this side, but I
warrant it is a good one. He will make a good master, lads;
I think that, as he says, he will be thoughtful as to our com-
forts, and be pleasant and cheerful with us; but mind you, he
will expect the work to be done, and you will find that there
is no trifling with him.”

CHAPTER III.
IN A FRENCH CHATEAU.

oe three days’ ride to the chateau of the Countess de
Laville was marked by no incident. To Philip it was
an exceedingly pleasant one—everything was new to him; the
architecture of the churches and villages, the dress of the people,
their modes of agriculture, all differing widely from those to
which he was accustomed. In some villages the Catholics
predominated, and here the passage of the little party was
regarded with frowning brows and muttered threats; by the
Huguenots they were saluted respectfully, and if they halted,
many questions were asked their followers as to news about
the intentions of the court, the last rumours as to the attitude
of Condé, and the prospects of a continuance of peace.

Here, too, great respect was paid to Marie and Philip when
it was known they were relatives of the Countess de Laville,
and belonged to the family of the De Moulins. Emilie had
for some time been a widow; the count, her husband, having
fallen at the battle of Dreux at the end of the year 1562; but
being an active and capable woman, she had taken into her
hands the entire management of the estates, and was one of
46 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

the most influential among the Huguenot nobles of that part
of the country.

From their last halting-place Marie Vaillant sent on a letter
by one of the men to her sister, announcing their coming. She
had written on her landing at La Rochelle, and they had been
met on their way by a messenger from the countess, expressing
her delight that her sister had at last carried out her promise
to visit her, and saying that Francois was looking eagerly for
the coming of his cousin.

The chateau was a semi-fortified building, capable of making
a stout resistance against any sudden attack. It stood on the
slope of a hill, and Philip felt a little awed at its stately aspect
as they approached it. When they were still a mile away
a party of horsemen rode out from the gateway, and in a few
minutes their leader reined up his horse in front of them, and
springing from it advanced towards Philip, who also alighted
and helped his aunt to dismount.

“My dear aunt,” the young fellow said doffing his cap, “1
am come in the name of my mother to greet you, and to tell
you how joyful she is that you have at last come back to us.
This is my Cousin Philip, of course; though you are not what
I expected. to see. My mother told me that you were two
years’ my junior, and J had looked to find you still a boy; but,
by my faith, you seem to be as old as I am. Why, you are
taller by two inches, and broader and stronger too, I should
say. Can it be true that you are but sixteen?”

“That is my age, Cousin Francois, and I am, as you expected,
but a boy yet, and, I can assure you, no taller or broader than
many of my English school-fellows of the same age.”

“But we must not delay, aunt,” Francois said, turning again
to her. ‘My mother’s commands were urgent that I was not
to delay a moment in private talk with you, but to bring you
speedily on to her; therefore I pray you to mount again and
ride on with me, for doubtless she is watching impatiently now,
and will chide me rarely if we linger.”

Accordingly the party remounted at once, and rode forward
IN A FRENCH CHATEAU. 47

to the chateau, A dozen men-at-arms were drawn up at the
gate, and on the steps of the entrance from the courtyard into
the chateau itself the countess was standing. Francois leapt
from his horse, and was by the side of his aunt as Philip reined
in his horse. Taking his hand she sprang lightly from the
saddle, and in a moment the two sisters fell into each others’
arms. It was more than twenty years since they last met, but
time had dealt gently with them both. The countess had
changed least. She was two or three years older than Marie,
was tall, and had been somewhat stately even as a girl. She
had had many cares, but her position had always been assured ;
as the wife of a powerful noble she had been accustomed
to be treated with deference and respect; and although the
troubles of the times and the loss of her husband had left their
marks, she was still a fair and stately woman at the age of
forty-three. Marie, upon the other hand, had lived an un-
troubled life for the past twenty years. She had married a man
who was considered beneath her, but the match had been in
every way a happy one; her husband was devoted to her, and
the expression of her face showed that she was a thoroughly
contented and happy woman.

“You are just what I fancied you would be, Marie, a quiet
little home-bird, living in your nest beyond the sea, and free
from all the troubles and anxieties of our unhappy country.
You have been good to write so often, far better than I have
been, and I seem to know all about your quiet, well-ordered
home, and your good husband and his business that flourishes
so. I thought you were a little foolish in your choice, and that
our father was wrong in mating you as he did; but it has turned
out well, and you have been living in quiet waters while we
have been encountering a sea of troubles. And this tall youth
is our nephew, Philip? I wish you could have brought over
Lucie with you. It would have been pleasant indeed for us
three sisters to be reunited again, if only for a time. Why,
your Philip is taller than Francois, and yet he is two years
younger. I congratulate you and Lucie upon him. Salute me,
48 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

nephew; I had not looked to see so proper a youth. You show
the blood of the De Moulins plainly, Philip. I suppose you
get your height and your strength from your English father?”

“They are big men these English, Emilie, and his father is
big even among them. But, as you say, save in size Philip takes
after our side rather than his father’s ; and of course he has
mixed so much with our colony at Canterbury, that in spite of
his being English bred we have preserved in him something of
the French manner, and I think his heart is fairly divided
between the two countries.”

“Let us go in,” the countess said 3 “you need rest and refresh-
ment after your journey, and I long to have a quiet talk with
you. Frangois, do you take charge of your cousin. I have
told the serving-men to let you have a meal in your own apart-
ments, and then you can show him over the chateau and the
stables.”

Francois and Philip bowed to the two ladies and then went
off together.

“That is good,” the young count said, laying his hand on
Philip’s shoulder; “now we shall get to know each other. You
will not be angry, I hope, when I tell you that though I have
looked forward to seeing my aunt and you, I have yet been a
little anxious in my mind. I do not know why, but I have
always pictured the English as somewhat rough and uncouth—
as doughty fighters, for so they have shown themselves to our
cost, but as somewhat deficient in the graces of manner, and
when IJ heard that my aunt was bringing you over to leave you
for a time with us, since you longed to fight in the good cause,
I have thought—pray, do not be angry with me, for I feel
ashamed of myself now—” and he hesitated.

“That I should be a rough cub, whom you would be somewhat
ashamed of introducing to your friends as your cousin,” Philip
laughed. “Tam not surprised ; English boys have ideas just as
erroneous about the French, and it was a perpetual wonder to
my school-fellows that, being half French, I was yet ag strong
and as tough as they were. Doubtless I should have been some-
IN A FRENCH CHATEAU. 49

what different had I not lived so much with my uncle and
aunt and the Huguenot community at Canterbury. Monsieur
Vaillant and my aunt have always impressed upon me that I
belong to a noble French family, and might some day come
over here to stay with my relations, and have taken much pains
with my deportment and manners, and have so far succeeded
that I am always called ‘Frenchy’ among my English com-
panions, though in their own games and sports I could hold
my own with any of them.”

“And can you ride, Philip?”

“T can sit on any horse, but I have had no opportunity of
learning the ménage.”

“That matters little after all,” Frangois said, “though it is
an advantage to be able to manage your horse with a touch of
the heel or the slightest pressure of the rein, and to make him
wheel and turn at will, while leaving both arms free to use
your weapons. You have learned to fence?”

“Yes; there were some good masters among the colony, and
many a lesson have I had from old soldiers passing through,
who paid for a week’s hospitality by putting me up to a few
tricks with the sword.”

“T thought you could fence,” Francois said. ‘You would
hardly have that figure and carriage unless you had practised
with the sword. And you dance, I suppose; many of our
religion regard such amusement as frivolous if not sinful, but
my mother, although as staunch a Huguenot as breathes, in-
sists upon my learning it, not as an amusement but as an
exercise. There was no reason, she said, why the Catholics
should monopolize all the graces.”

“Yes, I learned to dance, and for the same reason. I think
my uncle rather scandalized the people of our religion in Can-
terbury. He maintained that it was necessary as part of the
education of a gentleman, and that in the English Protestant
court dancing was as highly thought of as in that of France, the
queen herself being noted for her dancing, and none can throw
doubts upon her Protestantism. My mother and aunt were

(777) D
50 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

both against it, but as my father supported my uncle he had
his own way.”

“Well, I see, Philip, that we shall be good comrades. There
are many among us younger Huguenots who, though as staunch
in the religion as our fathers, and as ready to fight and die
for it if need be, yet do not see that it is needful to go about
always with grave faces, and to be cut off from all innocent
amusements. It is our natural disposition to be gay, and I see
not why, because we hold the Mass in detestation, and have
revolted against the authority of the Pope and the abuses of
the church, we should go through life as if we were attending
a perpetual funeral. Unless I am mistaken such is your dis-
position also, for although your face is grave your eyes laugh.”

“T have been taught to bear myself gravely in the presence
of my elders,” Philip replied with a smile; “and truly at Can-
terbury the French colony was a grave one, being strangers in
a strange land; but among my English friends I think I was as
much disposed for a bit of fun or mischief as any of them.”

“But I thought the English were a grave race.”

“T think not, Frangois. We call England ‘Merry England.’
I think we are an earnest people, but not a grave one, English
boys play with all their might. The French boys of the colony
never used to join in our sports, regarding them as rude and
violent beyond all reason; but it is all in good-humour, and
it is rare indeed for anyone to lose his temper, however rough
the play and hard the knocks. Then they are fond of dancing
and singing, save among the strictest sects, and the court is as
gay asany in Europe. I do not think that the English can be
called a grave people.”

“Well, Iam glad that it is so, Philip, especially that you
yourself are not grave. Now, as we have finished our meal,
let us visit the stables. I have a horse already set aside for
you, but I saw as we rode hither that you are already ex-
cellently mounted; still Victor, that is his name, shall be at
your disposal. A second horse is always useful, for shot and
arrows no more spare a horse than his rider.
IN A FRENCH CHATEAU. 51

The stables were large and well ordered, for during the past
two months there had been large additions made by the coun-
tess in view of the expected troubles.

“This is my charger; I call him Rollo. He was bred on the
estate, and when I am upon him I feel that the king is not
better mounted.”

“He is a splendid animal indeed,” Philip said, as Rollo tossed
his head and whinnied with pleasure at his master’s approach.

“He can do anything but talk,” Francois said as he patted
him. ‘He will lie down when I tell him, will come to my
whistle, and with the reins lying loose on his neck will obey
my voice as readily as he would my hand. This is my second
horse, Pluto; he is the equal of Rollo in strength and speed, but
not so docile and obedient, and he has a temper of his own.”

“He looks it,” Philip agreed. “I should keep well out of
reach of his heels and jaws.”

“He is quiet enough when I am on his back,” Francois
laughed; “but I own that he is the terror of the stable-boys.
This is Victor; he is not quite as handsome as Rollo, but he
has speed and courage and good manners.”

“He is a beautiful creature,” Philip said enthusiastically.
“T was very well satisfied with my purchase, but he will not
show to advantage by the side of Victor.”

“Ah, I see they have put him in the next stall,” Francois
said. ‘He is a fine animal too,” he went on after examining
the horse closely. ‘He comes from Gascony, I should say;
he has signs of Spanish blood.”

“Yes, from Gascony or Navarre. I was very fortunate in
getting him,” and he related how the animal had been left at
La Rochelle.

“You got him for less than half his value, Philip. What are
you going to call him?”

“T shall call him Robin; that was the name of my favourite
horse at home. I see you have got some stout animals in
the other stalls, though of course they are of a very different
quality to your own.” ,
52 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“Yes; many of them are new purchases. We have taken
on thirty men-at-arms; stout fellows, old soldiers all, whom my
mother will send into the field if we come to blows. Besides
these there will be some twenty of our tenants. We could
have raised the whole number among them had we chosen; for
if we called up the full strength of the estate, and put all bound
to service in the field in war time, we could turn out fully three
hundred; but of these well-nigh a third are Catholics, and could
not in any way be relied on, nor would it be just to call upon
them to fight against their co-religionists, Again, it would not
do to call out all our Huguenot tenants, for this would leave
their wives and families and homes and property, to say nothing
of the chateau, at the mercy of the Catholics while they were
away. Ido not think that our Catholic tenants would inter-
fere with them, still less with the chateau, for our family have
ever been good masters, and my mother is loved by men of
both parties. Still, bands might come from other districts or
from the towns to pillage or slay were the estate left without
fighting men. ‘Therefore, we have taken these men-at-arms
into our service, with twenty of our own tenants, all young
men belonging to large families, while the rest will remain
behind as a guard for the estate and chateau; and as in all
they could muster some two hundred and fifty strong, and
would be joined by the other Huguenots of the district, they
would not likely be molested, unless one of the Catholic armies
happened to come in this direction.

“Directly I start with the troop the younger sons of the
tenants will be called in to form a garrison here. We have
five-and-thirty names down, and there are twenty men capable
of bearing arms among the household, many of whom have
seen service. Jacques Parold, our seneschal, has been a valiant
soldier in his time, and would make the best of them, and my
mother would assuredly keep our flag flying till the last. I
shall go away in comfort, for unless the Guises march this
way there is little fear of trouble in our absence. We are
fortunate in this province; the parties are pretty evenly divided,
IN A FRENCH CHATEAU. 53

and have a mutual respect for each other. In districts where
we are greatly outnumbered, it is hard for fighting men to
march away with the possibility that on their return they will
find their families murdered and their homes levelled.

“Now we will take a turn round the grounds; their beauty
has been sadly destroyed. You see, before the troubles seven
years ago broke out, there was a view from the windows on
this side of the house over the park and shrubberies, but at
that time my father thought it necessary to provide against
sudden attacks, and therefore before he went away to the war
he had this wall with its flanking towers erected. All the
tenants came in and helped, and it was built in five weeks
time. It has, as you see, made the place safe from a sudden
attack, for on the other three sides the old defences remain
unaltered. It was on this side only that my grandfather had
the house modernized, believing that the days of civil war were
at anend. You see, this new wall forms a large quadrangle.
We call it the countess’s garden, and my mother has done her
best by planting it with shrubs and fast-growing trees to make
up for the loss of the view she formerly had from the windows.

“ Along one side you see there are storehouses, which are
screened from view by that bank of turf; they are all full now of
grain. There is a gate, as you see, opposite. In case of trouble
cattle will be driven in there and the garden turned into a
stock-yard, so that there is no fear of our being starved out.”

“Fifty-five men are a small garrison for so large a place,
Frangois.”

“Yes, but that is only against a sudden surprise. In case
of alarm the Protestant tenants would all come in with their
wives and families, and the best of their horses and cattle, and
then there will be force enough to defend the place against
anything short of a siege by an army. You see there is a moat
runs all round; it is full now on three sides, and there is a little
stream runs down from behind, which would fill the fourth side
in afew hours. To-morrow we will take a ride through the
park which lies beyond that wall.”
54 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

Entering the house they passed through several stately
apartments, and then entered a large hall completely hung
with arms and armour.

“This is the grand hall, and you see it serves also the pur-
pose of a salle @armes. Here we have arms and armour for a
hundred men, for although all the tenants are bound by the
terms of their holding to appear when called upon fully armed
and accoutred, each with so many men according to the size of
his farm, there may well be deficiencies, especially as, until the
religious troubles began, it was a great number of years since
they had been called upon to take the field. For the last
eight years, however, they have been trained and drilled; fifty
ata time coming up once a week. That began two years before
the last war, as my father always held that it was absurd to take
a number of men wholly unaccustomed to the use of arms into
the field. Agincourt taught that lesson to our nobles, though
it has been forgotten by most of them. We have two officers
accustomed to drill and marshal men, and these act as teachers
here in the hall. The footmen practise with pike and sword.
They are exercised with arquebus and cross-bow in the park,
and the mounted men are taught to manoeuvre and charge, so
that in case of need we can show a good face against any
body of troops of equal numbers. It is here I practise with
my maitre darmes, and with Montpace and Bourdon, our two
officers. Ah! here is Charles, my mattre @armes. Charles, this
is my cousin Philip, who will also be a pupil of yours while he
remains here. What do you say, Philip? Will we try a bout
with blunted swords just now?”

“With pleasure,” Philip said.

The art of fencing had not at that time reached the perfec-
tion it afterwards attained. The swords used were long and
straight, and sharpened at both edges, and were used as much
for cutting as thrusting. In single combat on foot, long
daggers were generally held in the left hand, and were used
for the purpose both of guarding and of striking at close
quarters


THE ARMOURY.

PHILTP AND FRANCOIS IN
IN A FRENCH CHATEAU. - 5d

They put on thick quilted doublets and light helmets with
visors.

“Do you use a dagger, Philip?”

“No, I have never seen one used in England. We are
taught to guard with our swords as well as to strike with
them.”

“Monsieur has learned from English teachers?” the mattre
@armes asked.

“T have had English teachers as well as French,” Philip
said. “We all learn the use of the sword in England, but
my uncle, Monsieur Vaillant, has taken great pains in having
me taught also by such French professors of arms as lived in
Canterbury, or happened to pass through it; but I own that
I prefer the English style of fighting. We generally stand
upright to our work, equally poised on the two feet for advance
or retreat, while you lean with the body fax forward and the
arm outstretched, which seems to me to cripple the movements.”

“Yes, but it puts the body out of harm’s way,” Francois said.

“Tt is the arm’s business to guard the body, Francois, and
it is impossible to strike a downright blow when leaning so far
forward.”

“We strike but little now-a-days in single combat,” the
maitre @armes said. ‘The point is more effective.”

“That is doubtless so, Maitre Charles,” Philip agreed; “but
I have not learned fencing for the sake of fighting duels, but
to be able to take my part on a field of battle. The Spaniards
are said to be masters of the straight sword, and yet they
have been roughly used in the western seas by our sailors,
who, methinks, always use the edge.”

The two now took up their position facing each other. Their
attitude was strikingly different. Francois stood on bent
knees leaning far forward, while Philip stood erect with his
knees but slightly bent, ready to spring either forwards or
backwards, with his arm but half extended. For a time both
fought cautiously. Francois had been well taught, having had
the benefit whenever he was in Paris of the best masters
56 sit, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVi.

there. He was extremely active, and as they warmed to their
work Philip had difficulty in standing his ground against his
impetuous rushes. Some minutes passed without either of them
succeeding in touching the other. At length the maitre d’armes
called upon them to lower their swords.

“That is enough,” he said, “you are equally matched. I
congratulate you, Monsieur Philip. You have been well taught;
and indeed there are not many youths of his age who could hold
their own with my pupil. Take off your helmets, enough has
been done for one day.”

“ Peste, Philip!” Francois said as he removed his helmet.
“I was not wrong when I said that from your figure I was
sure that you had learned fencing. Maitre Charles interfered
on my behalf, and to save me the mortification of defeat. I
had nearly shot my bolt and you had scarcely begun. I own
myself a convert. Your attitude is better than ours; that is,
when the hand is skilful enough to defend the body. The
fatigue of holding the arm extended as I do is much greator
than it is as you stand, and in the long run you must get the
better of anyone who is not sufficiently skilful to slay you
before his arm becomes fatigued. What do you think, Maitre
Charles? My cousin is two years younger than I am, and yet
his wrist and arm are stronger than mine, as I could feel every
time he put aside my attacks.”

“Is that so?” the maitre d’armes said in surprise. “I had
taken him for your senior. He will be a famous man-at-arms
when he attains his full age. His defence is wonderfully
strong, and although I do not admit that he is superior
to you with the point, he would be a formidable opponent to
any of our best swordsmen in a mélée. If, as he says, he is
more accustomed to use the edge than the point, I will myself
try him to-morrow if he will permit me. I have always under-
stood that the English are more used to strike than to thrust,
and although in the duel the edge has little chance against the
point, I own that it is altogether different in a mélée on horse-
back, especially as the point cannot penetrate armour. while a
iN A FRENCH CHATEAU. 5Y

stout blow, well delivered with a strong arm, can break it in.
Are you skilled in the exercises of the ring, Monsieur Philip?”

“Not at all, I have had no practise whatever in them.
Except in some of the great houses the tourney has gone
quite out of fashion in England, and though I can ride a horse
across country I know nothing whatever of knightly exercises.
My father is but a small proprietor, and up to the time I left
England I have been but a school-boy.”

“Tf all your school-boys understand the use of their arms as
you do,” Maitre Charles said courteously, “it is no wonder
that the English are terrible fighters.”

“T do not say that,” Philip said smiling. “I have had the
advantage of the best teaching, both English and French, to
be had at Canterbury, and it would be a shame for me indeed
if I had not learnt to defend myself.”

A servant now entered and said that the countess desired
their presence, and they at once went to the apartment where
the sisters were talking.

“What do you think, mother?” Frangois said. “This cousin
of mine, whom I had intended to patronize, turns out to be
already a better swordsman than I am.”

“Not better, madame,” Philip said hastily. ‘We were a
fair match, neither having touched the other.”

“Philip is too modest, mother,” Francois laughed. “ Maitre
Charles stopped us in time to save me from defeat. Why, he
has a wrist like iron, this cousin of mine.’

“We have done our best to have him well taught,” Madame
Vaillant said. ‘There were some good swordsmen among our
Huguenot friends, and he has also had the best English teachord
we could get for him. My husband always wished particularly
that if he ever came over to visit our friends here he should
not be deficient in such matters.”

“T feel a little-crestfallen,” the countess said. ‘I have been
rather proud of Francois’ skill as a swordsman, and I own that
it is a little mortifying to find that Philip, who is two years
younger, is already his match. Still I am glad that it is so, for
58 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

if they ride together into battle I should wish that Philip
should do honour to our race. Now, Philip, I have been hear-
ing all about your mother’s life, as well as that of your uncle
and aunt. Now let us hear about your own, which must needs
differ widely from that to which Frangois has been accustomed.
Your aunt says that your English schools differ altogether from
ours. With us our sons are generally brought up at home, and
are instructed by the chaplain in Huguenot families or by the
priest in Catholic families; or else they go to religious seminaries,
where they are taught what is necessary of books and Latin,
being under strict supervision, and learning all other matters
such as the use of arms after leaving school, or when at home
with their families.”

Philip gave an account of his school life, and its rough games
and sports.

“But is it possible, Philip,” the countess said in tones of
horror, “that you used to wrestle and to fight? Fight with
your arms and fists against rough boys, the sons of all sorts of
common people?”

“Certainly I did, aunt, and it did me a great deal of good,
and no harm so far as I know. All these rough sports strengthen
the frame and give quickness and vigour, just the same as
exercises with the sword do. I should never have been so tall
and strong as I am now, if, instead of going to an English school,
J had been either, as you say, educated at home by a chaplain
or sent to be taught and looked after by priests. My mother
did not like it at first, but she came to see that it was good
for me. Besides, there is not the same difference between
classes in England as there is in France; there is more inde-
pendence in the lower and middle classes, and less haughtiness
and pride in the upper, and I think that it is better so.”

“Jt is the English custom, Emilie,” her sister said; “and
T can assure you that my husband and I have got very English
in some things. We do not love our country less, but we see
that in many respects the English ways are better than ours;
and-we admire the independence of the people, every man
IN A FRENCH CHATEAU. 59

respecting himself, though giving honour, but not lavishly,
to those higher placed.”

The countess shrugged her shoulders. “ We will not argue,
Marie. At any rate whatever the process, it has succeeded well
with Philip.”

The days passed quietly at the chateau. Before breakfast
Philip spent an hour on horseback, learning to manage his
horse by the pressure of knee or hand, This was the more
easy, as both his horses had been thoroughly trained in the
ménage, and under the instruction of Captain Montpace, who
had been Francois’ teacher, he made rapid progress,

“It is much easier to teach the man than the horse,” his
instructor said, “ although a horse learns readily enough
when its rider is a master of the art; but with horse and
rider alike ignorant it is a long business to get them to work
together as if they were one, which is what should be. As
both your horses know their work, they obey your motions,
however slight, and you will soon be able to pass muster on
their backs; but it would take months of patient teaching for
You so to acquire the art of horsemanship as to be able to
train an animal yourself,”

After the lesson was over Frangois and Philip would tilt at
rings and go through other exercises in the courtyard. Break-
fast over they went hawking or hunting. Of the former sport
Philip was entirely ignorant, and was surprised to learn how
highly a knowledge of it was prized in France, and how neces-
sary it was considered as part of the education of a gentleman.
Upon the other hand his shooting with the bow and arrow
astonished Francois; for the bow had never been a French
Weapon, and the cross-bow was fast giving way to the arquebus,
but few gentlemen troubled themselves to learn the use of
either one or the other. The pistol, however, was becoming
4 recognized portion of the outfit of a cavalier in the field, and
following Francois’ advice Philip practised with one steadily
until he became a fair shot,

“They are cowardly weapons,” Francois said, “but for all
60 Sf. BARTHOLOMEWS EVE.

that they are useful in battle. When you are surrounded by
three or four pikemen thrusting at you, it is a good thing to
be able to disembarrass yourself of one or two of them. Be-
sides, these German horsemen, of whom the Guises employ so
many, all carry firearms, and the contest would be too uneven
if we were armed only with the sword; though for my part I
wish that all the governments of Europe would agree to do away
with firearms of every description. They place the meanest
footman upon the level of the bravest knight, and in the end
will, it seems to me, reduce armies to the level of machines.”

In the afternoons there were generally gatherings of Huguenot
gentry, who came to discuss the situation, to exchange news,
or to listen to the last rumours from Paris. No good had arisen
from the Conference of Bayonne, and one by one the privileges
of the Huguenots were being diminished. The uprising of the
Protestants of Holland was watched with the greatest interest
by the Huguenots of France. It was known that several of the
most influential Huguenot nobles had met at Valery and at
Chatillon, to discuss with the Prince of Condé and Admiral
Coligny the question of again taking up arms in defence of
their liberties. It was rumoured that the opinion of the majo-
rity was that the Huguenot standard should be again unfurled,
and that this time there should be no laying down of their arms
until freedom of worship was guaranteed to all; but that the
admiral had used all his powers to persuade them that the
time had not yet come, and that it was better to bear trials
and persecutions for a time in order that the world might see
they had not appealed to arms until driven to it by the failure
of all other hope of redress of their grievances.

The elder men among the visitors at the chateau were of
the admiral’s opinion; the younger chafed at the delay. The
position had indeed become intolerable. Protestant worship
was absolutely forbidden, except in a few specified buildings
near some of the large towns, and all Protestants save those
dwelling in these localities were forced to meet secretly, and
at the risk of their lives, for the purpose of worship. Those
IN A FRENCH CHATEAU. 61

caught transgressing the law were thrown into prison, subjected
to crushing fines, and even punished with torture and death.
“Better a thousand times to die with swords in our hands in
the open field than thus tamely to see our brethren ill-treated
and persecuted!’’ was the cry of the young men, and Philip,
who from daily hearing tales of persecution and cruelty had
become more and more zealous in the Huguenot cause, fully
shared their feeling,

In the presence of the elders, however, the more ardent
spirits were silent. At all times grave and sober in manner
and word, the knowledge that a desperate strugele could not
long be deferred, and the ever-increasing encroachments of the
Catholics, added to the gravity of their demeanour. Some-
times those present broke up into groups, talking in an under-
tone. Sometimes the gathering took the form of a general
council. Occasionally some fugitive minister or a noble from
some district where the persecution was particularly fierce
would be present, and their narratives would be listened to
with stern faces by the elders, and with passionate indignation
by the younger men. In spite of the decrees the countess still
retained her chaplain, and before the meetings broke up prayers
were offered by him for their persecuted brethren, and for
a speedy deliverance of those of the reformed religion from the
cruel disabilities under which they laboured.

Services were held night and morning in the chateau. These
were attended not only by all the residents, but by many of
the farmers and their families. The countess had already
received several warnings from the Catholic authorities of the
province; but to these she paid no attention, and there were
no forces available to enforce the decree in her case, as it would
require nothing short of an army to overcome the opposition
that might be expected, joined as she would be by the other
Huguenot gentry of the district
62 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

CHAPTER IV.
AN EXPERIMENT.

h ARIE VAILLANT, after remaining six weeks at the

chateau, returned to England, and Philip with a party
of twelve men escorted her to La Rochelle. Her visit was cut
short somewhat at the end by the imminence of the outbreak
of hostilities, in which case she might have found a difficulty in
traversing the country. Moreover, La Rochelle would probably
be besieged soon after the war began; for being both an impor-
tant town and port the Catholics would be anxious to obtain
possession of it, and so cut off the Huguenots from escape to
England, besides rendering it difficult for Elizabeth to send a
force to their assistance.

“It has been a pleasant time,” the countess said on the
morning of her departure, “and your presence has taken me
back five-and-twenty years, Marie. I hope that when these
troubles are past you will again come over and spend a happier
time with me. I was going to say that I will look well
after Philip, but that I cannot do. He has cast his lot in with
us and must share our perils. I am greatly pleaséd with him,
and Iam glad that Francois will have him as a companion in
arms. Francois is somewhat impulsive and liable to be carried
away by his ardour, and Philip, although the younger, is, it
seems to me, the more thoughtful of the two. He is one I feel
I can have confidence in. He is grave, yet merry; light-hearted
in a way, and yet, I think, prudent and cautious. It seems
strange, but I shall part with Francois with the more comfort
in the thought that he has Philip with him. Don’t come back
more English than you are now, Marie, for truly you seem to
me to have fallen in love with the ways of these islanders.”

“T will try not to, Emilie; but I should not like the customs
did it not seem to me that they are better than my own. In
England Protestants and Catholics live side by side in friend-
AN EXPERIMENT. 63

ship, and there is no persecution of anyone for his religion; the
Catholics who have suffered during the present reign have done
so not because they are Catholics, but because they plotted
against the queen. Would that in France men would agree to
worship, each in his own way, without rancour or animosity.”

“Tell Lucie that I am very sorry she did not come over with
you and Philip, and that it is only because you tell me how
occupied she is that I am not furiously angry with her. Tell
her, too,” she went on earnestly, “that I feel she is one of us,
still a Huguenot, a F renchwoman, and one of our race, or she
would never have allowed her only son to come over to risk
his life in our cause. I consider her a heroine, Marie. It is
all very well for me whose religion is endangered, whose friends
are in peril, whose people are persecuted, to throw myself into
the strife and to send Frangois into the battle; but with her,
working there with an invalid husband, and her heart, as it
must be, wrapped up in her boy, it is splendid to let him come
out here to fight side by side with us for the faith. Whose
idea was it first?”

“My husband’s. Gaspard regards Philip almost in the light
ofason. He isa rich man now, as I told you, and Philip will
become his heir. Though he has no desire that he should settle
in France, he wished him to take his place.in our family here,
to show himself worthy of his race, to become a brave soldier,
to win credit and honour, and to take his place perhaps some
day in the front rank of the gentry of Kent.”

“They were worldly motives, Marie, and our ministers
would denounce them as sinful ; but I cannot doso. I ama
Huguenot, but I am a countess of France, a member of one
noble family and married into another; and though, I believe,
as staunch a Huguenot and as ready to lay down my life for
our religion as any man or woman in France, yet I cannot give
up all the traditions of my rank, and hold that fame and honour
and reputation and courage are mere snares. But such were
not Lucie’s feelings in letting him go, I will be bound, nor
yours,”
64 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

‘Mine partly,” Marie said. “I am the wife now of a trader,
though one honoured in his class, but have still a little of
your feelings, Emilie, and remember that the blood of the De
Moulins runs in Philip’s veins, and hope that he will do credit
to it. Idon’t think that Lucie has any such feelings. She is
wrapt up in duty—first her duty to God, secondly her duty
to her crippled husband, whom she adores; and I think she
regarded the desire of Philip to come out to fight in the
Huguenot ranks as a call that she ought not to oppose. I know
she was heart-broken at parting with him, and yet she never
showed it. Lucie is a noble character. Everyone who knows
her loves her. I believe the very farm labourers would give
their lives for her, and a more utterly unselfish creature never
lived.”

“Well, she must take a holiday and come over with you
next time you come, Marie. I hope that these troubles may
soon be over, though that is a thing one cannot foretell.”

After seeing his aunt safely on board a ship at La Rochelle
Philip prepared to return to the chateau. He and his aunt
had stayed two nights at the house of Maitre Bertram, and on
his returning there the latter asked, “Have you yet found a
suitable servant, Monsieur Philip?”

‘“‘No; my cousin has been inquiring among the tenantry,
but the young men are all bent on fighting, and indeed there
are none of them who would make the sort of servant one
wants in a campaign—a man who can not only groom horses
and clean arms, but who knows something of war, can forage
for provisions, cook, wait at table, and has intelligence. One
wants an old soldier; one who has served in tho same capacity
if possible.”

“T only asked because I have had a man pestering me to
speak to you about him. He happened to sce you ride off
when you were here last, and apparently became impressed
with the idea that you would be a good master, He is a
cousin of one of my men, and heard I suppose from him that
you were likely to return. He has been to me three or four
AN EXPERIMENT. 65

times. I have told him again and again that he was not the
sort of man I could recommend, but he persisted in begging
me to let him see you himself.”

“What sort of a fellow is he?”

“Well, to tell you the truth he is a sort of ne’er-do-well,”
the merchant laughed. “I grant that he has not had much
chance. His father died when he was a child, and his mother
soon married again. There is no doubt that he was badly
treated at home, and when he was twelve he ran away. He
was taken back and beaten time after time, but in a few hours
he was always off again, and at last they let him go his own way.
There is nothing he hasn’t turned his hand to. First he lived
in the woods, I fancy, and they say he was the most arrant
young poacher in the district, though he was so cunning that
he was never caught. At last he had to give that up. Then
he fished for a bit, but he couldn’t stick to it. He has been
always doing odd jobs, turning his hand to whatever turned
up. He worked in a shipyard for a bit, then I took him as a
sort of errand-boy and porter. He didn’t stop long, and the next
I heard of him he was servant ata priest’s. He has been a dozen
other things, and for the last three or four months he has been
in the stables where your horse was standing. I fancy you
saw him there. Some people think he is half a fool, but I
don’t agree with them; he is as sharp as a needle to my mind.
But, as I say, he has never had a fair chance. A. fellow like
that without friends is sure to get roughly treated.”

“Ts he a young man of about one or two and twenty?”
Philip asked. “I remember a fellow of about that age brought
out the horse, and as he seemed to me a shrewd fellow, and
had evidently taken great pains in grooming Robin, I gave him
acrown. I thought he needed it, for his clothes were old and
tattered, and he looked as if he hadn’t had a hearty meal for a
week. Well, Maitre Bertram, can you tell me if among his
other occupations he has ever been charged with theft?”

“No, I have never heard that brought against him.”

“Why did he leave you?”

(777) E
66 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“Tt was from no complaint as to his honesty. Indeed he
left of his own accord after a quarrel with one of the men, who
was, as far as I could learn, in the wrong. I did not even hear
that he had left until a week after, and it was too late then to
go thoroughly into the matter. Boys are always troublesome,
and as everyone had warned me that Pierre would turn out
badly I gave the matter but little thought at the time. Of
course you will not think of taking the luckless rascal as your
servant.”

“T don’t know. I will have a talk with him anyhow. A
fellow like that would certainly be handy, but whether he
could be relied upon to behave discreetly and soberly and not
to bring me into discredit is a different matter. Is he here
now?”

“He is below. Shall I send him up here to you?”

“No, I will go down and see him in the courtyard. If he
comes up here he would be perhaps awkward and unnatural,
and would not speak so freely as he would in the open air.”

The merchant shook his head. “If you take the vagabond,
remember, Monsieur Philip, thatitisaltogether againstmy advice.
I would never have spoken to you about him if I had imagined
for a moment that you would think of taking him. A fellow
who has never kept any employment for two months, how
could he be fit for a post of confidence and be able to mix as
your body-servant with the households of honourable families,”

“But you said yourself, Maitre Bertram, that he has never
had a fair chance. Well, I will see him anyhow.”

He descended into the courtyard, and could not help smiling
as his eye fell upon a figure seated on the horse-block. He
was looking out through the gateway, and did not at first see
Philip. The expression of his face was dull and almost
melancholy, but as Philip’s eye fell on him his attention was
attracted by some passing object in the street. His face lit
up with amusement, his lips twitched and his eyes twinkled.
A moment later and the transient humour passed, and the
dull, listless expression again stole over his face.
AN EXPERIMENT. 67

“Pierre!” Philip said sharply. The young fellow started to
his feet as if shot upwards by a spring, and as he turned and
saw who had addressed him, took off his cap, and bowing stood
twisting it round in his fingers. ‘‘ Monsieur Bertram tells me
you want to come with me as a servant, Pierre; but when I
asked him about you he does not give you such a character as
one would naturally require in a confidential servant. Is there
anyone who will speak for you?”

“Not asoul,” the young man said doggedly; “and yet, mon-
sieur, I am not a bad fellow. What can a man do when he has
not a friend in the world? He picks up a living as he can,
but everybody looks at him with suspicion. There is no friend
to take his part, and so people vent their ill-humours upon
him, till the time comes when he revolts at the injustice and
strikes back, and then he has to begin it all over again some-
where else. And yet, sir, I know that I could be faithful and
true to anyone who would not treat me like a dog. You spoke
kindly to me in the stable, and gave me a crown; no one had
ever given me a crown before. But I cared less for that than
for the way you spoke. Then I saw you start, and you spoke
pleasantly to your men, and I said to myself, that is the master
I would serve if he would let me. Try me, sir, and if you do
not find me faithful, honest, and true to you, tell your men
to string me up to a bough. I do not drink, and have been in
so many services that, ragged as you see me, I can yet behave
so as not to do discredit to you.”

Philip hesitated. There was no mistaking the earnestness
with which the youth spoke.

“ Are you a Catholic or a Huguenot?” he asked.

“T know nothing of the difference between them,” Pierre
replied. ‘“Howshould I? No one has ever troubled about me
one way or the other. When my mother lived I went to Mass
with her; since then I have gone nowhere. I have had no
Sunday clothes. I know that the bon Diew has taken care of
me or I should have died of hunger long ago. The priest I
was with used to tell me that the Huguenots were worse than
68 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

heathen; but if that were so, why should they let themselves
be thrown into prison, and even be put to death, rather than stay
away from their churches. As for me, I know nothing about it.
They say monsieur is a Huguenot, and if he were good enough
to take me into his service, of course I should be a Huguenot.”

“That is a poor reason, Pierre,” Philip said smiling. “Still,
you may find better reasons in time. However, you are not a
Catholic, which is the principal thing at present. Well, I will
try you, I think. Perhaps, as you say, you have never had a
fair chance yet, and I will give you one. I believe what you
say, that you will be faithful.”

The young fellow’s face lit wp with pleasure.

“T will be faithful, sir. If I were otherwise I should deserve
to be cut in pieces.”

“As for wages,” Philip said, “I will pay you what you
deserve. We will settle that when we see how we get on
together. Now follow me and I will get some suitable clothes
for you.”

There was no difficulty about this; clothes were not made
to fit closely in those days, and Philip soon procured a couple
of suits suitable for the serving-man of a gentleman of condition.
One was a riding-suit, with high boots, doublet, and trunks of
sober colour and of a strong tough material; a leather sword-
belt and sword, and a low hat thickly lined and quilted and
capable of resisting a heavy blow. The other suit was for wear
in the house; it was of dark-green cloth of a much finer texture
than the riding-suit, with cloth stockings of the same colour
coming up above the knee, and then meeting the trunks or
puffed breeches. A small cap with turned-up brim, furnished
with a few of the tail feathers of a black-cock, completed the
costume; a dagger being worn in the belt instead of the sword.
Four woollen shirts, a pair of shoes, and a cloak were added to
the purchases, which were placed in a valise to be carried
behind the saddle.

“Is there any house where you can change your clothes,
Pierre? Of course you could do so at Monsieur Bertram’s, but
AN EXPERIMENT. 69

some of the men I brought with me will be there, and it would
be just as well that they did not see you in your present attire.”

“T can change at the stables, sir, if you will trust me with
the clothes.”

“Certainly, I will trust you. If I trust you sufficiently to
take you as my servant, I can surely trust you in a matter
like this. Do you know of anyone who has a stout nag for
sale?”

Pierre knew of several, and giving Philip an address the
latter was not long in purchasing one, with saddle and bridle
complete. He ordered this to be sent at once to the stables
where Pierre had been employed, with directions that it was
to be handed over to his servant.

It was one o’clock in the day when Madame Vaillant em-
barked, and it was late in the afternoon before Philip returned
to Monsieur Bertram’s house.

“What have you done about that vagabond Pierre?”

“T have hired him,” Philip said.

“You don’t say that you have taken him after what I have
told you about him!” the merchant exclaimed.

“T have, indeed. He pleaded hard for a trial, and I am
going to give him one. I believe that he will turn out a useful
fellow. I am sure that. he is shrewd, and he ought to be full of
expedients. As to his appearance, good food and decent clothes
will make him another man. I think he will turn out a merry
fellow when he is well fed and happy; and I must say, Maitre
Bertram, that I am not fond of long faces. Lastly, I believe
that he will be faithful.”

“Well, well, well, I wash my hands of it altogether, Mon-
sieur Philip. JI am sorry I spoke to you about him, but I
never for a moment thought you would take him. If harm
comes of it don’t blame me.”

“T will hold you fully acquitted,” Philip laughed. “I own
that I have taken quite a fancy to him, and believe that he
will turn out well.”

An hour later one of the domestics came in with word that
70 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

Monsieur Philip’s servant was below, and wished to know if he
had any commands for him.

“Tell him to come up,” Philip said, and a minute later
Pierre entered. He was dressed in his dark-green costume. He
had had his hair cut, and presented an appearance so changed
that Philip would hardly have known him.

“ By my faith!” the merchant said, “you have indeed trans-
formed him. He is not a bad-looking varlet, now that he has
got rid of that tangled crop of hair.”

Pierre bowed low at the compliment.

“Fine feathers make fine birds, Monsieur Bertram,” replied
Pierre. “It is the first time I have had the opportunity of
proving the truth of the proverb. I am greatly indebted to
monsieur for recommending me to my master.”

“Tt is not much recommendation you got from me, Pierre,”
the merchant said bluntly; “for a more troublesome young
scamp I never had in my warehouse. Still, as I told Monsieur
Philip, I think everything has been against you, and I do hope
now that this English gentleman has given you a chance that
you will take advantage of it.” :

“‘T mean to, sir,” the young fellow said earnestly, and without
a trace of the mocking smile with which he had first spoken.
“Tf I do not give my master satisfaction it will not be for want
of trying. I shall make mistakes at first—it will all be strange
to me, but I feel sure that he will make allowances. I can at
least promise that he will find me faithful and devoted.”

“Tas your horse arrived, Pierre?”

“Yes, sir. I saw him watered and fed before I came out,
Is it your wish that I should go round to the stables where
your horse and those of your troop are, and take charge of
your horse at once?”

“No, Pierre; the men will look after him as usual. We will
start at six in the morning. Be at the door on horseback at
that hour.”

Pierre bowed and withdrew.

“T do not feel so sure as I did that you have made a bad
AN EXPERIMENT. 71

bargain, Monsieur Philip. As far as appearances go at any
rate, he would pass muster. Except that his cheeks want
filling out a bit, he is animble, active-looking young fellow, and
with that little moustache of his and his hair cut short he is by
no means ill-looking. I really should not have known him. I
think at present he means what he says, though whether he
will stick to it is another matter altogether.”

“T think he will stick to it,” Philip said quietly. “Putting
aside what he says about being faithful to me, he is shrewd
enough to see that it is a better chance than he is ever likely
to have again of making a start in life. He has been leading
a dog’s life ever since he was a child, and to be well fed and
well clothed and fairly treated will be a wonderful change for
him. My only fear is that he may get into some scrape at the
chateau. I believe that he is naturally full of fun, and fun is
a thing that the Huguenots, with all their virtues, hardly ap-
preciate.”

“A good thrashing will tame him of that,” the merchant
said.

Philip laughed. ‘I don’t think I shall be driven to try that.
I don’t say that servants are never thrashed in England, but 1
have not been brought up among the class who beat their
servants. I think I shall be able to manage him without that.
If I can’t we must part. I suppose there is no doubt, Monsieur
Bertram, how La Rochelle will go when the troubles begin?”

“T think not. All preparations are made on our part, and
as soon as the news comes that Condé and the Admiral have
thrown their flags to the wind, we shall seize the gates, turn
out all who oppose us, and declare for the cause. I do not
think it can be much longer delayed. I sent a trusty servant
yesterday to fetch back my daughter, who, as I told you, has
been staying with a sister of mine five or six leagues away. I
want to have her here before the troubles break out. It will
be no time for damsels to be wandering about the country
when swords are once out of their scabbards.”

The next morning the little troop started early from La
72 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

Rochelle, Pierre riding gravely behind Philip. The latter
presently called him up to his side.

“T suppose you know the country round here well?”

“Every foot of it. Idon’t think that there isa pond in which
T have not laid my lines, not astreamlet of which I do not know
every pool, not a wood that I have not slept in nor a hedge
where I have not laid snares for rabbits. I could find my way
about as well by night as by day; and you know, sir, that may
be of use if you ever want to send a message into the town
when the Guises have got their troops lying outside.”

Philip looked sharply at him. “Oh, you think it likely that
the Guises will soon be besieging La Rochelle?”

“Anyone who keeps his ears open can learn that,” Pierre
said quietly. ‘I haven’t troubled myself about these matters.
It made no difference to me whether the Huguenots or the
Catholics were in the saddle; still, one doesn’t keep one’s cars
closed, and people talk freely enough before me. ‘Pierre does
not concern himself with these things; the lad is half a fool; he
pays no attention to what is being said;’ so they would go on
talking, and I would go on rubbing down a horse or eating my
black bread with a bit of cheese or an onion, or whatever I
might be about, and looking as if I did not even know they
were there. But I gathered that the Catholics think that
the Guises and Queen Catharine and Philip of Spain and the
Pope are going to put an end to the Huguenots altogether.
From those on the other side I learned that the Huguenots
will take the first step in La Rochelle, and that one fine morning
the Catholics are likely to find themselves bundled out of it.
Then it doesn’t need much sense to see that ere long we shall
be having a Catholic army down here to retake the place, that
is if the Huguenot lords are not strong enough to stop them
on their way.”

“And you think the Catholics are not on their guard at all?”

“Not they,” Pierre said contemptuously. ‘They have been
strengthening the walls and building fresh ones, thinking that
an attack might come from without from the Huguenots,
AN EXPERIMENT. 13

and all the time the people of that religion in the town have
been laughing in their sleeves and pretending to protest against
being obliged to help at the new works, but really paying and
working willingly. Why, they even let the magistrates arrest
and throw into prison a number of their party without saying
a word, so that the priests and the commissioners should
think they have got it entirely their own way. It has been
fun watching it all, and I had made up my mind to take to
the woods again directly it began. I had no part in the
play, and did not wish to run any risk of getting a ball through
my head, whether from a Catholic or a Huguenot arquebus.
Now of course it is all different. Monsieur is a Huguenot,
and therefore soam I. It is the Catholic bullets that will be
shot at me, and as no one likes to be shot at I shall soon hate
the Catholics cordially, and shall be ready to do them any ill-
turn that you may desire.”

“And you think that if necessary, Pierre, you could carry
a message into the town, even though the Catholics were camped
round it.”

Pierre nodded. “I have never seen a siege, master, and
don’t know how close the soldiers might stand round a town;
but I think that if a rabbit could get through I could, and if
T could not get in by land I could manage somchow to get in
by water.”

“But such matters as this do not come within your service,
Pierre. Your duties are to wait on me when not in the
field, to stand behind my chair at meals, and to see that my
horses are well attended to by the stable varlets. When we
take the field you will not be wanted to fight, but will look
after my things; will buy food and cook it, get dry clothes
ready for me to put on if I come back soaked with rain, and
keep an eye upon my horses. ‘Two of the men-at-arms will
have special charge of them; they will groom and feed them.
But if they are away with me they cannot see after getting
forage for them, and it will be for you to get hold of that,
either by buying it from the villagers or employing a man to
74 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

cut it. At any rate to see that there is food for them as well
as for me when the day’s work is over.”

“T understand that, master; but there are times when a lad
who can look like a fool but is not altogether one can carry
messages and make himself very useful, if he does not place
over much value on his life. When you want anything done,
no matter what it is, you have only to tell me, and it will be
done if it is possible.”

In the afternoon of the second day after starting they ap-
proached the chateau. The old sergeant of the band, who with
two of his men was riding a hundred yards ahead, checked his
horse and rode back to Philip.

“There is something of importance doing, Monsieur Philip;
the flag is flying over the chateau. I have not seen it hoisted
before since my lord’s death, and I can make out horsemen
galloping to and from the gates.”

“We will gallop on then,” Philip said, and in ten minutes
they arrived. Francois ran down the steps as Philip alighted
in the courtyard.

“T am glad you have come, Philip. I had already given
orders for a horseman to ride to meet you, and tell you to
hurry on. The die is cast at last. There was a meeting
yesterday at the Admiral’s; a messenger came to my mother
from my cousin, Francois de la Notie. The Admiral and Condé
had received news from a friend at court that there had been
a secret meeting of the Royal Council, and that it had been
settled that the Prince should be thrown into prison and Coligny
executed. ‘The Swiss troops were to be divided between Paris,
Orleans, and Poitiers. The edict of toleration was to be
annulled, and instant steps taken to suppress Huguenot worship
by the sternest measures. In spite of this news the Admiral
still urged patience; but his brother, D’Andelot, took the lead
among the party of action, and pointed out that if they waited
until they, the leaders, were all dragged away to prison, resist-
ance by the Huguenots would be hopeless. Since the last war
over three thousand Huguenots had been put to violent deaths.
AN EXPERIMENT. = 15

Was this number to be added to indefinitely? Were they to
wait until their wives and children were in the hands of the
executioners before they moved? His party were in the ma-
jority, and the Admiral reluctantly yielded. Then there was
a discussion as to the steps to be taken. Some proposed the
seizure of Orleans and other large towns, and that with these
in their hands they should negotiate with the court for the dis-
missal of the Swiss troops, as neither toleration nor peace could
be hoped for as long as this force was at the disposal of the
Cardinal of Lorraine and his brothers.

“This council, however, was overruled. It was pointed out
that at the beginning of the last war the Huguenots held fully
a hundred towns, but nearly all were wrested from their hands
before its termination. It was finally resolved that all shall
be prepared for striking a heavy blow, and that the rising shall
be arranged to take place throughout France on the 29th of
September. That an army shall take the field, disperse the
Swiss, seize if possible the Cardinal of Lorraine, and at any rate
petition the king for a redress of grievances, for a removal of
the Cardinal from his councils, and for sending all foreign troops
out of the kingdom. We have, you see, a fortnight to prepare.
We have just sent out messengers to all our Huguenot friends,
warning them that the day is fixed, that their preparations are
to be made quietly, and that we will notify them when the
hour arrives. ‘All are exhorted to maintain an absolute silence
upon the subject, while seeing that their tenants and retainers
are in all respects ready to take the field.”

“Why have you hoisted your flag, Francois? That will only
excite attention.”

“It is my birthday, Philip, and the flag is supposed to be
raised in my honour, This will serve as an excuse for the
assemblage of our friends, and the gathering of the tenants.
It has been arranged, as you know, that I, and of course you, are
to ride with De la Noiie, who is a most gallant gentleman, and
that our contingent is to form part of his command. I am
heartily glad this long suspense is over, and that at last we are
76 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

going to meet the treachery of the court by force. Too long
have we remained passive, while thousands of our friends have
in defiance of the edicts been dragged to prison and put to
death. Fortunately the court is, as it was before the last war,
besotted with the belief that we are absolutely powerless, and
we have every hope of taking them by surprise.”

“T also am glad that war has been determined upon,” Philip
said. “Since I have arrived here I have heard nothing but
tales of persecution and cruelty. I quite agree with you that
the time has come when the Huguenots must either fight for
their rights, abandon the country altogether and go into exile,
as so many have already done, or renounce their religion.”

“I see you have a new servant, Philip. He is an active,
likely-looking lad, but rather young. He can know nothing
of campaigning.”

“I believe he is a very handy fellow, with plenty of sense
and shrewdness; and if he can do the work, I would rather
have a man of that age than an older one. _ It is different with
you. You are Francois, Count de Laville, and your servant
whatever his age would hold you in respect; I am younger and
of far less consequence, and an old servant might want to take
me under his tuition. Moreover, if there is hard work to be
done for me I would rather have a young fellow like this doing
it than an older man.”

“You are always making out that you are a boy, Philip.
You don’t look it, and you are going to play a man’s part.”

“T mean to play it as far as I can, Francois; but that does
not really make me a day older.”

‘Well, mind, not a word to a soul as to the day fixed on.”

For the next fortnight the scene at the chatcau was a busy
one. Huguenot gentlemen came and went. The fifty men-at-
arms who were to accompany Francois were inspected, and
their arms and armour served out to them. The tenantry came
up in small parties, and were also provided with weapons, offen-
sive and defensive, from the armoury, so that they might be
in readiness to assemble for the defence of the chateau at the
AN EXPERIMENT, 77

shortest notice. All were kept in ignorance as to what was
really going on; but it was felt that a crisis was approaching,
and there was an expression of grim satisfaction on the stern
faces of the men that showed they rejoiced at the prospect of a
termination to the long passive suffering which they had borne
at the hands of the persecutors of their faith. Hitherto they
themselves had suffered but little, for the Huguenots were strong
in the south of Poitou, while in N iort, the nearest town to the
chateau, the Huguenots, if not in an absolute majority, were far
too strong to be molested by the opposite party. Nevertheless
here, and in all other towns, public worship was suspended, and
it was only in the chateaux and castles of the nobles that the
Huguenots could gather to worship without fear of interruption
or outrage. There was considerable debate as to whether
Francois’ troop should march to join the Admiral at Chatillon-
sur-Loing, or should proceed to the south-east, where parties
were nearly equally balanced ; but the former course was decided
upon. The march itself would be more perilous, but as Condé,
the Admiral, and his brother D’Andelot would be with the
force gathered there, it was the most important point; and
moreover Irancois de la Noiie would be there.

So well was the secret of the intended movement kept, that
the French court, which was at Meaux, had no idea of the
danger that threatened, and when a report of the intentions of
the Huguenots came from the Netherlands, it was received
with incredulity. A spy was, however, sent to Chatillon to
report upon what the Admiral was doing, and he returned with
the news that he was at home, and was busily occupied in
superintending his vintage.

On the evening of the 26th the troop, fifty strong, mustered
in the courtyard of the chateau. All were armed with breast
and back pieces and steel caps, and carried lances as well as
swords. In addition to this troop were Philip’s four men-at-
arms, and four picked men, who were to form Francois’ body-
guard, one of them carrying his banner. He took as his body-
servant a man who had served his father in that capacity. He
78 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

and Pierre wore lighter armour than the others, and carried
no lances. Francois and Philip were both in complete armour,
Philip donning for the first time that given to him by his uncle.

Neither of them carried lances, but were armed with swords,
light battle-axes, and pistols. Before mounting service was
held; the pastor offered up prayers for the blessing of God
upon their arms, and’ for his protection over each and all of
them in the field. The countess herself made them a stirring
address, exhorting them to remember that they fought for the
right to worship God unmolested, and for the lives of those
dear to them. Then she tenderly embraced her son and Philip,
the trumpets sounded to horse, and the party rode out from
the gates of the chateau. As soon as they were away the two
young leaders took off their helmets and handed them to their
attendants, who rode behind them. Next to these came their
eight body-guards, who were followed by the captain and his
troop.

“Tt may be that this armour will be useful on the day of
battle,” Philip said, “but at present it seems to me, Francois,
that I would much rather be without it.”

“I quite agree with you, Philip. If we had only to fight
with gentlemen, armed with swords, I would gladly go into
battle unprotected; but against men with lances, one needs a
defence. However, I do not care so much now that I have
got rid of the helmet, which, in truth, is a heavy burden.”

“Methinks, Francois, that armour will ere long be aban-
doned, now that arquebuses and cannon are coming more and
more intouse. Against them they give no protection, and it were
better, methinks, to have lightness and freedom of action, than
to have the trouble of wearing all this iron stuff merely as a

‘protection against lances. You have been trained to wear
armour, and therefore feel less inconvenience; but I have never
had as much as a breast-plate on before, and I feel at present
as if I had almost lost the use of my arms. I think that at
any rate I shall speedily get rid of these arm-pieces; the body
armour I don’t so much mind, now that I am fairly in the
TAKING THE FIELD 79

saddle. The leg-pieces are not as bad as those on the arms; [
was scarcely able to walk in them; still now that I am mounted
I do not feel them much. But if I am to be of any use ina
mélée I must have my arms free, and trust to my sword to
protect them.”

“T believe that some have already given them up, Philip;
and if you have your sleeves well wadded and quilted, I think
you might if you like give up the armour. The men-at-arms
are not so protected, and it is only when you meet a noble in
full armour that you would be at a disadvantage.”

“T don’t think it would be a disadvantage, for I could strike
twice with my arms free to once with them so confined.”

“There is one thing, you will soon become accustomed to
the armour.”

“Not very soon, I fancy, Francois. You know, you have
been practising in it almost since you were a child, and yet you
admit that you feel a great difference. Still, 1 daresay as the
novelty wears off I shall get accustomed to it to some extent.”

CHAPTER V.
TAKING THE FIELD.

GUIDE thoroughly acquainted with the country rode
ahead of the party, carrying a lantern fixed at the back
of his saddle. They had, after leaving the chateau, begun to
mount the lofty range of hills behind. The road crossing these
was a mere track, and they were glad when they began to de-
scend on the other side. They crossed the Clain river some ten
miles above Poitiers, a few miles farther forded the Vienne,
crossed the Gartempe at a bridge at the village of Montmo-
rillon, and an hour later halted in a wood, just as daylight
was breaking, having ridden nearly fifty miles since leaving
the chateau.
80 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

So far they had kept to the south of the direct course in
order to cross the rivers near their sources.

Every man carried provisions for himself and his horse, and
as soon as they had partaken of a hearty meal the armour was
unstrapped, and all threw themselves down for a long sleep;
sentries being first placed, with orders to seize any peasants
who might enter the wood to gather fuel. With the exception
of the sentries, who were changed every hour, the rest slept
until late in the afternoon, then the horses were again fed and
groomed, and another meal was eaten. At sunset the armour
was buckled on again, and they started. They crossed the
Creuse at the bridge of Argenton about midnight, and riding
through La Chatre halted before morning in a wood two miles
from St. Amand. Here the day was passed as the previous
one had been.

“Tell me, Frangois,” Philip said, as they were waiting for
the sun to go down, “something about your cousin De la
Noiie. As we are to ride with him, it is as well to know some-
thing about him. How old is he?”

“‘He is thirty-six, and there is no braver gentleman in France.
As you know, he is of a Breton family, one of the most illus-
trious of the province. He is connected with the great houses
of Chateau-Briant and Matignon. As a boy he was famous
for the vigour and strength that he showed in warlike exercises,
but was in other respects, I have heard, of an indolent disposi-
tion, and showed no taste for reading or books of any kind.
As usual among the sons of noble families he went up to the
court of Henry IL as a page, and when there became seized
with an ardour for study, especially that of ancient and modern
writers who treated on military subjects, As soon as he reached
manhood he joined the army in Piedmont, under Marshal de
Brissac, that being the best military school of the time.

“On his return he showed the singular and affectionate kind-
ness of his nature. His mother, unfortunately, while he was
away, had become infected with the spirit of gambling, and
the king, who had noted the talent and kind disposition of the
TAKING THE FIELD. 81

young page, thought to do him a service by preventing his
mother squandering the estates in play. He therefore took the
management of her affairs entirely out of her hands, appointing
a royal officer to look after them. Now most young men
would have rejoiced at becoming masters of their estates, but
the first thing that Francois did on his return was to go to the
king, and solicit as a personal favour that his mother should be
reinstated in the management of her estates. This was granted,
but ashort time afterwards she died. De La Noiie retired from
court, and settled in Brittany upon his estates, which were ex-
tensive.

“Shortly afterwards D’Andelot, Coligny’s brother, who was
about to espouse Madamoiselle De Rieux, the richest heiress
in Brittany, paid a visit there. He had lately embraced our
faith and was bent upon bringing over others to it, and he
brought down with him to Brittany a famous preacher named
Cormel. His preaching in the chateau attracted large numbers
of people, and although Brittany is perhaps the most Catholic
province in France, he made many converts. Among these
was De La Noiie, then twenty-seven years old. Recognizing
his talent and influence, D’Andelot had made special efforts
to induce him to join the ranks of the Huguenots, and suc-
ceeded. My cousin, who previous to that had, I believe, no
special religious views, became a firm Huguenot. As you
might expect with such a man, he is in no way a fanatic, and
does not hold the extreme views that we have learned from
the preachers of Geneva. He isa staunch Huguenot; but he is
gentle, courtly, and polished, and has, I believe, the regard of
men of both parties. He is a personal friend of the Guises,
and was appointed by them as one of the group of nobles who
accompanied Marie Stuart to Scotland.

“When the war broke out in 1562, after the massacre of
Vassy, he joined the standard of Condé. He fought at Dreux,
and distinguished himself by assisting the Admiral to draw off
our beaten army'in good order. ‘The assassination of Francois

de Guise, as you know, put an end to that war. De la Noiie
(777) F
82 ST, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

bitterly regretted the death of Guise, and after peace was made
retired to his estates in Brittany, where he has lived quietly
for the last four years. I have seen him several times, because
he has other estates in Poitou, within a day’s ride of us. I
have never seen a man I admire so much. He is all for peace,
though he is a distinguished soldier. While deeply religious,
he has yet the manners of a noble of the court party. He
has no pride, and he is loved by the poor as well as by the
rich. He would have done anything to have avoided war;
but you will see that, now the war has begun, he will be one
of our foremost leaders. I can tell you, Philip, I consider my-
self fortunate indeed that I am going to ride in the train of so
brave and accomplished a gentleman.”

During the day they learned from a peasant of a ford cross-
ing the Cher, two or three miles below St. Amand. Entering
a village near the crossing-place, they found a peasant who
was willing for a reward to guide them across the country to
Briare, on the Loire—their first guide had returned from their
first halting-place,—and the peasant being placed on a horse
behind a man-at-arms, took the lead. Their pace was much
slower than it had been the night before, and it was almost day-
break when they passed the bridge at Briare, having ridden
over forty miles. They rode two or three miles into the moun-
tains after crossing the Loire, and then halted.

“We must give the horses twenty-four hours here,” Frangois
said. “I don’t think it is above twenty miles on to Chatillon-
Sur-Loing; but it is all through the hills, and it is of no use
arriving there with the horses so knocked up as to be useless
for service. We have done three tremendous marches, and
anyhow we shall be there long before the majority of the par-
ties from the west and south can arrive. The Admiral and
Condé will no doubt be able to gather sufficient strength from
Champagne and the north of Burgundy for his purpose of
taking the court by surprise. I am afraid there is but little
chance of their succeeding, It is hardly possible that so many
parties of Huguenots can have been crossing the country in
TAKING THE FIELD. 83

all directions to the Admiral’s without an alarm being given.
Meaux is some sixty miles from Chatillon, and if the court get
the news only three or four hours before Condé arrives there,
they will be able to get to Paris before he can cut them off.”

In fact, even while they were speaking the court was
in safety. The Huguenots of Champagne had their rendezvous
at Rosoy, a little more than twenty miles from Meaux, and
they began to arrive there in the afternoon of the 28th. The
Prince of Condé, who was awaiting them, feeling sure that the
news of the movement must in a few hours at any rate be
known at Meaux, marched for Lagny on the Marne, established
himself there late in the evening and seized the bridge. The
news, however, had as he feared already reached the court, and
messages had been despatched in all haste to order up six
thousand Swiss troops, who were stationed at Chateau-Thierry,
thirty miles higher up the Marne.

During the hours that elapsed before their arrival, the court
was in a state of abject alarm; but at one o’clock the Swiss
arrived, and two hours later the court set out under their pro-
tection for Paris. The Prince of Condé, who had with him
but some four hundred gentlemen, for the most part armed
only with swords, met the force as it passed by Lagny. He
engaged in a slight skirmish with it, but being unable with
his lightly-armed followers to effect anything against the solid
body of the Swiss mountaineers armed with their long pikes,
he fell back to await reinforcements, and the court reached
Paris in safety.

A messenger had arrived at Chatillon with the news when
Francois and Philip rode in. The castle gate stood open.
Numbers of Huguenot gentlemen were standing in excited
groups discussing the news.

“There is my cousin De la Noiie!” Frangois exclaimed as
he alighted from his horse. ‘This is good fortune. I was
wondering what we should do if we did not find him here,”
and he made his way to where a singularly handsome gentle-
man was talking with several others.
84 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“ Ah, Francois, is that you? Well arrived indeed! Gentle-
men, this is my cousin and namesake, Francois de Laville.
He has ridden across France to join us. Is that your troop,
Francois, entering the gate now? Ah, yes, I see your banner.
By my faith it is the best accoutred body we have seen yet,
they make a brave show with their armour and lances. The
countess has indeed shown her good-will right worthily, and it
is no small credit to you that you should have brought them
across from the other side of Poitou, and yet have arrived here
before many who live within a few leagues of the castle. And
who is this young gentleman with you?”

“Tt is my cousin, Philip Fletcher, son of my mother’s sister
Lucie. I spoke to you of his coming to us when you were at
Laville three months since. He has come over in order that he
may venture his life on behalf of our religion and family.”

“T am glad to welcome you, young sir. We are, you sce,
connections, I being Philip’s first cousin on his father’s side,
and you on that of his mother. Your spirit in coming over
here shows that you inherit the bravery of your mother’s race,
and I doubt not that we shall find that the mixture with the
sturdy stock of England will have added to its qualities. Would
that your queen would but take her proper place as head of a
league of the Protestants of Europe, our cause would then be
well-nigh won without the need of striking a blow.”

“Ts it true, cousin, that the court has escaped to Paris?”

“Yes, I would that Condé had had but a few hours longer
befote they took the alarm, another day and he would have
had such a gathering as it would have puzzled the Swiss to
have got through. His forces were doubled yesterday, and
eight hundred have ridden forth from here this morning to
join him. I myself, though I made all speed, arrived but two
hours since, and shall with all who come in this evening ride
forward to-morrow. The Admiral, and his brother the Car-
dinal of Chatillon, will go with us. D’Andelot is already with
Condé. Now as your troop is to ride with mine, I will see
that they are disposed for the night together, and that their
TAKING THE FIELD 85

wants are attended to. My men have picketed their horses
just outside the castle moat; for, as you see, we are crowded
here with gentlemen and their personal followers, and it would
be impossible to make room for all. I will take your officer to
the seneschal, who will see that your men are provided with
bread, meat, and wine. Ah, Captain Montpace, you are in com-
mand of the troop, I see. I thought the countess would send so
experienced a soldier with them, and I am proud to have such
a well-appointed troop behind me. None so well armed and
orderly have yet arrived. My own at present are forty strong,
and have, like you, made their way across France from
Poitou.

“T could not bring my Bretons,” he said turning to Francois.
‘The Huguenots there are but a handful among the Catholics.
Happily on my estates they are good friends together, but I
could not call away men from their homes at a time like this,
Now, Captain Montpace, I will show you where your men are
to bivouac next to my own. Then if you will come with me
to the seneschal, rations shall be served out to them. Are
your horses fit for another journey ?”

“They will be by to-morrow morning, Count. They have
only come from this. side of Briare this morning, but though
the journey is not long the road is heavy. They had twenty-
four hours’ rest before that, which they needed sorely, having
travelled from Laville in three days.”

“Draw a good supply of forage for them from the magazines,”
De la Noiie said. “See that the saddle-bags are well filled in
the morning. There is another heavy day’s work before them,
and then they can take a good rest.”

Frangois and Philip accompanied the troop, and waited until
they saw that they were supplied with provisions and forage,
and with straw for lying down on, then they re-entered the
castle. De la Noiie presented them to many of his friends,
and then took them into the Admiral. He quite fulfilled the
anticipations that Philip had formed of him. He was of tall
figure, with a grave but kindly face. He was dressed entirely
86 ST. BARTHOLOMEWS EVE.

in black, with puffed trunks, doublet to match, and a large
turned-down collar. As was usual, he wore over his shoulders
a loose jacket with a very high collar, the empty sleeves
hanging down on either side. When riding, the arms were
thrust into these. He wore a low soft cap with a narrow
brim all round. The expression of his face, with its short-
pointed beard, moustache, and closely-trimmed whiskers, was
melancholy. The greatest captain of his age, he was more
reluctant than any of his followers to enter upon civil war, and
the fact that he felt that it was absolutely necessary to save
Protestanism from being extinguished in blood, in no way
reconciled him to it.

He received Frangois and his cousin kindly. “I am glad,”
he said to the former, “to see the representative of the
Lavilles here. Your father was a dear friend of mine, and
fell fighting bravely by my side. I should have been glad to
have had you riding among my friends, but it is better still
for you to be with your cousin De la Noiie, who is far more
suitable as a leader and guide for youth than Iam. You can
follow no better example. I am glad also,” he said turning to
Philip, “to have another representative of the old family of
the De Moulins here, and to find that though transplanted to
England it still retains its affection for France. I trust that
ere long I may have many of your countrymen fighting by my
side. We have the same interests, and if the Protestant
nations would unite, the demand for the right of all men,
Catholic and Protestant, to worship according to their con-
sciences could no longer be denied. I regret that your queen
does not permit free and open worship to her Catholic subjects,
since her not doing so affords some sort of excuse to Catholic
kings and princes. Still I know that this law is not put
rigidly into force, and that the Catholics do in fact exercise
the rights of their religion without hindrance or persecution;
and above all that there is no violent ill-will between the
people of the two religions. Would it were so here. Were it
not that you are going to ride with my good friend here, I
TAKING THE FIELD. 87

would have said a few words to you, praying you to remember
that you are fighting not for worldly credit and honour, but for
a holy cause, and it behoves you to bear yourselves gravely and
seriously; but no such advice. is needed to those who come
under his influence.”

Leaving the Count de la Notie in conversation with the
Admiral, Francois and Philip made their way to the hall,
where the tables were laid, so that all who came, at whatever
hour, could at once obtain food. Their own servants, who were
established in the castle, waited upon them.

“T think that lackey of yours will turn out a very useful
fellow, Philip,” Francois said as they left the hall. “He is
quick and willing, and he turned out our dinner yesterday in
good fashion. It was certainly far better cooked than it had
been by Charles the day before.”

“T fancy Pierre has done a good deal of cooking in the open
air,” Philip said, “and we shall find that he is capable of turn-
ing out toothsome dishes from very scanty materials.”

“Tam glad to hear it, for though I am ready to eat horse-
flesh if necessary, I see not why because we happen to be at
war one should have to spoil one’s teeth by gnawing at meat as
hard as leather. Soldiers are generally bad cooks, they are
in too much haste to get their food at the end of a long day’s
work to waste much time with the cooking. Here comes La
Noiie again.”

“Will you order your troop to be again in the saddle at five
o’clock in the morning, De Laville,” the Count said. “TI start
with a party of two hundred at that hour. There will be my
own men and yours, the rest will be gentlemen and their
personal retainers.”

“T would that it had been three hours later,” Francois said
as the Count left them and moved away, giving similar orders
to the other gentlemen. ‘“I own I hate moving before it is
light. There is nothing rufiles the temper so much as getting
up in the dark, fumbling with your buckles and straps, and
finding everyone else just as surly and cross as you feel your-
88 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

self. It was considered a necessary part of my training that I
should turn out and arm myself at all times of the night. It
was the part of my exercises that I hated the most.”

Philip laughed. “It will not make much difference here,
Frangois. I don’t like getting out of a warm bed myself on a
dark winter’s morning, but as there will be certainly no un-
dressing to-night, and we shall merely have to get up and
shake the straw off us, it will not matter much. By half-past
five it will be beginning to get light. At any rate we should not
mind it to-morrow, as it will be really our first day of military
service.”

Up to a late hour fresh arrivals continued to pour in, and
the cooks and servants of the castle were kept hard at work
administering to the wants of the hungry and tired men.
There was no regular set meal, each man feeding as he was
disposed. After it became dark all the gentlemen of family
gathered in the upper part of the great hall, and there sat
talking by the light of torches until nine, then the Admiral
with a few of the nobles who had been in consultation with
him joined them, and a quarter of an hour later a pastor entered
and prayers were read. Then a number of retainers came in
with trusses of straw, which were shaken down thickly beside
the walls, and as soon as this was done, all present prepared
to lie down.

“The trumpet will sound, gentleman,” Francois de la Noiie
said in a loud voice, “at half-past four, but this will only
concern those who, as it has already been arranged, will ride
with me—the rest will set out with the Admiral at seven. I
pray each of you who go with me to bid his servant cut off a
goodly portion of bread and meat to take along with him, and
to place a flask or two of wine in his saddle-bags, for our ride
will be a long one, and we are not likely to be able to obtain
refreshment on our way.”

“JT should have thought,” Francois said, as he lay down on
the straw by Philip’s side, “that we should have passed through
plenty of places where we could obtain food. Whether we go
TAKING THE FIELD. 89

direct to Paris, or by the road by Lagny, we pass through
Nemours and Mélun.”

“These places may not open their gates to us, Francois, and
in that case probably we should go through Montereau and
Rosoy, and it may be considered that those who have already
gone through to join Condé may have pretty well stripped both
places of provisions.”

The trumpet sounded at half-past four. The torches were
at once relighted by the servants, and the gentlemen belonging
to La Noiie’s party rose, and their servants assisted them to
buckle on their armour. They gave them instructions as to
taking some food with them, and prepared for their journey by
an attack on some cold joints that had been placed on a table
at the lower end of the hall. There was a scene of bustle and
confusion in the courtyard as the horses were brought up by
the retainers. The Admiral himself was there to see the party
off, and as they mounted each issued out and joined the men
drawn up outside. Before starting, the minister according to
Huguenot custom held a short service, and then with a salute to
the Admiral, La Noiie took his place at their head and rode away.

With him went some twenty or thirty gentlemen, behind
whom rode their body-servants. After these followed some
fifty men-at-arms and the troops of La Noiie and Laville.
As soon as they were off La Noiie reined in his horse so as to
ride in the midst of his friends, and chatted gaily with them as
they went along. An hour and a half’s brisk riding took them
to Montargis. Instead of keeping straight on, as most of those
present expected, the two men who were riding a short distance
in advance of the column turned sharp off to the left in the
middle of the town.

“T am going to give you a surprise, gentlemen,” De la Noiie
said with asmile. “I will tell you what it is when we are
once outside the place.”

“T suppose,” one of the gentlemen from the province, who
was riding next to Philip, said, “we are going to strike the
main road from Orleans north: to ride through Etampes, and
90 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

take post between Versailles and Paris on the south side of the
river, while the Prince and his following beleaguer the place
on the north. It is a bold plan thus to divide our forces, but
I suppose the Admiral’s party will follow us, and by taking post
on the south side of the river we shall straiten Paris for pro-
visions.”

“Gentlemén,” the Coit said, when they had issued from
the streets of Montargis, “I can now tell you the mission
which the Admiral has done me the honour to confide to me.
It was thought best to keep the matter an absolute secret until
we were thus fairly on our way, because, although we hope and
believe that there is not a man at Chatillon who j is not to be
trusted, there may possibly be a spy of the Guises there, and
it would have been wrong to run the risk of betrayal. Well,
my friends, our object is the capture of Orleans.”

An exclamation of surprise broke from many of his hearers.

“It seems a bold enterprise to undertake with but little over
two hundred men,” La Noiie went on with a smile; “but we
have friends there. D’Andelot has been for the last ten days in
communication with one of them. We may of course expect
to meet with a stout resistance, but with the advantage of a
surprise and with so many gallant gentlemen with me, I have
no shadow of fear as to the result. I need not point out to
you how important. its possession will be to us. It will keep
open a road to the south, will afford a rallying-place for all our
friends in this part of France, and the news of its capture will
give immense encouragement to our co-religionists throughout
the country. Besides it will counterbalance the failure to seize
the court, and will serve as an example to others to attempt to

. obtain possession of strong places. We shall ride at an easy
pace to-day, for the distance is long and the country hilly. We
could not hope to arrive there until too late to finish our work
before dark. Moreover, most of our horses have already had
very hard work during the past few days. We have started
early in order that we may have a halt of four hours in the
middle of the day. We are to be met to-night by our friend, the
TAKING THE FIELD. 91

Master of Grelot, five miles this side of the city; he will tell us
what arrangements have been made for facilitating our entrance.”

“This is a glorious undertaking, Philip, is it not?” Francois
said. ‘Until now I have been thinking how unfortunate we
were in being too late to ride with Condé. Now I see that
what I thought was a loss has turned out a gain.”

“You do not think Condé will be able to do anything against
Paris?” Philip asked.

“Certainly not at present. What can some fifteen hundred
horsemen and as many infantry (and he will have no more force
than that for another three or four days) do against Paris
with its walls and its armed population, and the Guises and
their friends and retainers, to say nothing of the six thousand
Swiss? If our leaders thought they were going to fight at once
they would hardly have sent two hundred good troops off in
another direction. I expect we shall have plenty of time to
get through this and other expeditions and then to join the
Prince in front.of Paris before any serious fighting takes place.”

“Do you know how far it is across the hills to Orleans?”
Philip asked the gentlemen next to him on the other side.

“Tt is over fifty miles, but how much more I do not know.
Iam a native of the province, but I have never travelled along
this road, which can be but little used. East of Montargis the
traffic goes by the great road through Mélun to Paris, while
the traffic of Orleans, of course, goes north through Etampes.”

They rode on until noon, and then dismounted by a stream,
watered and fed the horses, partook of a meal from the
contents of their saddle-bags, and then rested for four hours
to recruit the strength of their horses. The soldiers mostly
stretched themselves on the sward and slept. A few of the
gentlemen did the same, but most of them sat chatting in
groups, discussing the enterprise upon which they were engaged.
Frangois and Philip went among their men with Captain
Montpace, inspected the horses, examined their shoes, saw that
fresh nails were put in where required, chatting with the men
as they did so.
92 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“JT felt sure we should not be long before we were engaged
on some stirring business,” the Captain said. “The Count de
la Noiie is not one to let the grass grow under his feet. I saw
much of him in the last campaign, and the count, your father,
had a very high opinion of his military abilities. At first he
was looked upon somewhat doubtfully in our camp, seeing that
he did not keep a long face, but was ready with a jest and
a laugh with high and low, and that he did not affect the
soberness of costume favoured by our party; but that soon
passed off when it was seen how zealous he was in the cause;
how ready to share in any dangerous business, while he set an
example to all by the cheerfulness with which he bore fatigue
and hardship. Next to the Admiral himself and his brother
D’Andelot there was no officer more highly thought of by the
troops. This is certainly a bold enterprise that he has under-
taken now, if it be true what I have heard since we halted
that we are going to make a dash at Orleans. It is a big city
for two hundred men to capture, even though no doubt we
have numbers of friends within the walls.”

“All the more glory and credit to us, Montpace,” Frangois said
gaily. “Why, the news that Orleans is captured will send a
thrill through France, and will everywhere encourage our friends
to rise against our oppressors. We are sure to take them by
surprise, for they will believe that all the Huguenots in this
part of France are hastening to join the Prince before Paris.”

At four o’clock the party got in motion again, and an hour
after dark entered a little village among the hills about five
miles north of the town. De la Noiie at once placed a cordon
of sentries, with orders that neither man, woman, nor child was
to be allowed to leave it. Orders were issued to the startled
peasants that all were to keep within their doors at the peril
of their lives. The horses were picketed in the street, and the
soldiers stowed in barns; trusses of straw were strewn round
a fire for La Noiie and the gentlemen who followed him. At
eight o’clock two videttes thrown forward some distance along
the road rode in with a horseman. It was the Master of
TAKING THE FIELD. 93

Grelot, who, as he rode up to the fire, was heartily greeted by
the Count.

“T am glad to find you here, Count,” he said; “I knew you
to be a man of your word, but in warfare things often occur
to upset the best calculations.”

“Ts everything going on well at Orleans?” De la Noiie
asked.

“Everything. I have made all my arrangements. A party
of five-and-twenty men I can depend on will to-morrow morn-
ing at seven o'clock gather near the gate this side of the town.
They will come up in twos and threes, and just as the guard
are occupied in unbarring the gate they will fall upon them.
The guard is fifteen strong, and as they will be taken by sur-
prise they will be able to offer but a faint resistance. Of course
you with your troop will be lying in readiness near. As soon
as they have taken possession of the gateway the party will
issue out and wave a white flag as a signal to you that all
is clear, and you will be in before the news that the gateway
has been seized can spread. After that you will know what
to do. In addition to the men who are to carry out the enter-
prise you will shortly be joined by many others. Word has
been sent round to our partisans that they may speedily expect
deliverance, and bidding them be prepared whenever they are
called upon to take up their arms and join those who come to
free them.

“A large number of the town-folk are secretly either wholly
with us or well disposed towards us, and although some will
doubtless take up arms on the other side, I think that with the
advantage of the surprise.and with such assistance as our party
can give you, there is every chance of bringing the enterprise to
a successful issue. One of our friends, who has a residence within
a bow-shot of the gates, has arranged with me that your troop,
arriving there before daylight, shall at once enter his grounds,
where they will be concealed from the sight of any country
people going towards the city.

“From the upper windows the signal can be seen, and if you are
94 ST, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

mounted and ready you can be there in three or four minutes,
and it will take longer than that before the alarm can spread,
and the Catholics muster strongly enough to recapture the gate.”

“Admirably arranged,” the Count said warmly. “With a
plan so well laid our scheme can hardly fail of success. If we
only do our part as well as you have done yours, Orleans is
as good as won. Now, gentlemen, I advise you to toss off one
more goblet of wine, and then to wrap yourselves up in your
cloaks for a few hours’ sleep. We must be in the saddle soon
after four, so as to be off the road by five.”

At that hour the troop led by the Master of Grelot turned
in at the gate of the chateau. The owner was awaiting them,
and gave them a cordial welcome. The men were ordered to
dismount and stand by their horses, while the leaders followed
their host into the house, where a repast had been laid out for
them, while some servitors took out baskets of bread and
flagons of wine to the troopers.

At half-past six groups of countrymen were seen making
their way along the road towards the gate, and a quarter of an
hour later the troop mounted and formed up in readiness to
issue out as soon as the signal was given, their host placing
himself at an upper window whence he could obtain a view
of the city gate. It was just seven when he called out “The
gate is opening!.” and immediately afterwards, “They have
begun the work. The country people outside are running away
inapanic. Ah! there is the white flac.” Two servitors at the
gate of the chateau threw it open, and headed by La Noiie and
the gentlemen of the party they issued out and galloped down
the road at full speed. As they approached the gate some men
ran out waving their caps and swords.

“Well done!” La Noiie exclaimed as he rode up. “Now,
scatter and call out all our friends to aid us in the capture.”

The troop had been already divided into four parties, each
led by gentlemen familiar with the town. Francois and Philip,
with the men from Laville, formed the party led by the Count
himself. The news of the tumult at the gate had spread, and
TAKING THE FIELD. 95

just as they reached the market-place a body of horsemen equal
in strength to their own rode towards them.

“For God and the religion!” La Noiie shouted as he led the
charge. Ignorant of the strength of their assailants, and having
mounted in haste at the first alarm, the opposing band hesitated,
and before they could set their horses into a gallop the Hugue-
nots were upon them.

The impetus of the charge was irresistible. Men and horses
rolled over, while those in the rear turned and rode away, and
the combat was over before scarce a blow had been struck. A
party of infantry hastening up were next encountered; these
offered a more stubborn resistance, but threw down their arms
and surrendered when another of the Huguenot parties rode into
the square. At the sound of the conflict the upper windows of
the houses were opened, and the citizens looked out in alarm
at the struggle. But the Catholics having neither orders nor
plan dared not.venture out, while the Huguenots mustered
rapidly with arms in their hands, and rendered valuable assist-
ance to the horsemen in attacking and putting to flight the
parties of Catholic horse and foot as they came hurriedly up.

In an hour all resistance had ceased and Orleans was taken.
The Count at once issued a proclamation to the citizens assuring
all peaceable persons of protection, and guaranteeing to the
citizens immunity from all interference with personal property
and the right of full exercise of their religion. The charge of
the gates was given over to the Huguenot citizens, parties of
horse were told off to patrol the streets to see that order was
preserved, and to arrest any using threats or violence to the
citizens, and in a very few hours the town resumed its usual
appearance. Now-that all fear of persecution was at an end, large
numbers of the citizens who had hitherto concealed their lean-
ings towards the new religion openly avowed them, and La
Noiie saw with satisfaction that the town could be safely left
to the keeping of the Huguenot adherents with the assistance
only of a few men to act as leaders. These he selected from
the gentlemen of the province who had come with him, and as
96 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

soon as these had entered upon their duties he felt free to turn
his attention elsewhere.

Two days were spent in appointing a council of the leading
citizens, the Huguenots of course being in the majority. To
them was intrusted the management of the affairs of the town
and the maintenance of order. The young nobleman appointed
as governor was to have entire charge of military matters; all
Huguenots capable of bearing arms were to be formed up in
companies, each of which was to appoint its own officers. They
were to practise military exercises, to have charge of the gates
and walls, and to be prepared to defend them in case a hostile
force should lay siege to the city. Three of the nobles were
appointed to see to the victualling of the town; and all citizens
were called upon to contribute a sum according to their means
for this purpose. A few old soldiers were left to drill the new
levies, to see that the walls were placed in a thorough condi-
tion of defence, and above all to aid the leaders in suppressing
any attempt at the ill-treatment of Catholics, or the desecration
of their churches by the Huguenot portion of the population.
When all arrangements were made for the peace and safety of
the town, De la Noiie despatched most of the gentlemen with
him and their followers to join the Prince of Condé before
Paris, retaining only his Cousin Francois, Philip, the troop
from Laville, and his own band of forty men-at-arms.

CHAPTER VI.
THE BATTLE OF ST. DENIS.

to DE LAVILLE and Philip had fought by the
side of La Noiie in the engagement in the streets of
Orleans, but had seen little of the Count afterwards, his time
being fully employed in completing the various arrangements
to ensure the safety of the town. They had been lodged in
THE BATTLE OF ST. DENIS. 97

the house of one of the Huguenot citizens, and had spent their
time walking about the town or in the society of some of the
younger gentlemen of their party.

“Are you both ready for service again?” the Count de la
Noiie, who had sent for them to come to his lodgings, asked on
the evening of the third day after the capture of Orleans.

“Quite ready,” Francois replied. ‘The horses have all re-
covered from their fatigue, and are in condition for a fresh
start. Are we bound for Paris, may I ask?”

“No, Francois, we are going on a recruiting tour: partly
because we want men, but more to encourage our people by
the sight of an armed party, and to show the Catholics that
they had best stay their hands and leave us alone for the pre-
sent. I take a hundred men with me, including your troop
and my own, which I hope largely to increase. Sometimes we
-shall keep in a body, sometimes break up into two or three
parties. Always we shall move rapidly, so as to appear where
least expected, and so spread uneasiness as to where we may
next appear. In the south we are, as I hear, holding our own.
I shall therefore go first to Brittany, and if all is quiet, there
raise another fifty men. We shall travel through Touraine and
Anjou as we go, and then sweep round by Normandy and La
Perche, and so up to Paris. So you see we shall put a good
many miles of ground under our feet before we join the Prince.
In that way not only shall we swell our numbers and en-
courage our friends, but we shall deter many of the Catholic
gentry from sending their retainers to join the army of the
Guises.”

“Tt will be a pleasant ride, cousin,” Francois said, “and I
hope that we shall have an opportunity of doing some good
work before we reach Paris, and especially that we shall not
arrive there too late to join in the coming battle.”

“J do not think that there is much fear of that,” the Count
replied; “the Prince has not sufficient strength to attack Paris.
And for my part, I think that it would have been far better,

when it was found that his plan of seizing the court had failed,
(777) @
98 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

to have drawn off at once. He can do nothing against Paris,
and his presence before it will only incite the inhabitants against
us and increase their animosity. It would have been better to
have applied the force in reducing several strong towns where,
as at Orleans, the bulk of the inhabitants are favourable to us.
In this way we should weaken the enemy, strengthen ourselves,
and provide places of refuge for our people in case of need.
However, it is too late for such regrets; the Prince is there,
and we must take him what succour we can. I was pleased
with you both in the fights upon the day we entered. You
both behaved like brave gentlemen and good swordsmen. I
expected no less from you, Francois; but I was surprised to
find your English cousin so skilled with his weapon.”

“He is a better swordsman than I am,” Francois said; “which
is a shame to me, since he is two years my junior.”

“Tg he indeed!” the Count said in surprise. “I had taken
him to be at least your equal in years. Let me think, you are
but eighteen and some months?”

“But a month over eighteen,” Francois said, “and Philip
has but just passed sixteen.”

“You will make a doughty warrior when you attain your
full strength, Philip. I saw you put aside a thrust from an
ofticer in the mélée, and strike him from his horse with a back-
handed cut with your sword, dealt with a vigour that left
nothing to be desired.”

“TI know that I am too fond of using the edge, sir,” Philip
said modestly; “(my English masters taught me to do so, and
although my French instructors at home were always impressing
upon me that the point was more deadly than the edge, I can-
not break myself altogether from the habit.”

“There is no need to do so,” the Count said. “Of late the
point has come into fashion among us, and doubtless it has
advantages, but often a downright blow will fetch a man from
his saddle when you would in vain try to find with the point
a joint in his armour. But you must have been well taught
indeed if you are a better swordsman than my cousin, whose
THE BATTLE OF ST. DENIS. 99

powers I have tried at Laville, and found him to be an ex-
cellent swordsman for his age.”

“T have had many masters,” Philip said. “Both my French
and English teachers were good swordsmen, and it was seldom
a Frenchman who had been in the wars passed through
Canterbury that my uncle did not engage him to give me a few
lessons. Thus, being myself very anxious to become a good
swordsman, and being fond of exercises, I naturally picked up a
great many tricks with the sword.”

“You could not have spent your time better if you had an
intention of coming over to take part in our troubles here. Your
grandfather, De Moulins, was said to be one of the best swords-
men in France, and you may have inherited some of his skill.
I own that I felt rather uneasy at the charge of two such young
cockerels, though I could not refuse when the countess, my
aunt, begged me to let you ride with me; but in future I shall
feel easy about you, seeing that you can both take your own
parts stoutly. Well, order your men to be ready and mounted
in the market-place at half-past five. The west gate will be
opened for us to ride forth at six.”

Philip had every reason to be satisfied with the conduct of
his new servant. In the town, as at Laville, Pierre behaved
circumspectly and quietly, assuming a grave countenance in
accordance with his surroundings; keeping his arms and armour
brightly polished, and waiting at table as orderly as if he had
been used to nothing else all his life.

“Tam glad to hear it, sir,” Pierre said, when Philip informed
him that they would start on the following morning. ‘I love
not towns, and here, where there is nought to do but to polish
your armour and stand behind your chair at dinner, the time
goes mighty heavily.”

“You will have no cause to grumble on that account, Pierre,
I fancy, for your ride will be a long one. I do not expect we
shall often have a roof over our heads.”

“All the better, sir, so long as the ride finishes before the
cold weather sets in. fond as I am of sleeping with the stars
100 8ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

over me, I own that when the snow is on the ground I prefer
a roof over my head.”

At six o’clock the party started; only two other gentlemen
rode with it, both of whom were, like the Count, from Brittany.
The little group chatted gaily as they rode along. Unless they
happened to encounter parties of Catholics going north to join
the royal army, there was, so far as they knew, no chance of
their meeting any body of the enemy on their westward ride.
The towns of Vendome, Le Mans, and Laval were all strongly
Catholic and devoted to the Guises. These must be skirted.
Rennes in Brittany must also be avoided, for all these towns
were strongly garrisoned, and could turn out a force far too
strong for La Noiie to cope with.

Upon the march Pierre was not only an invaluable servant
but the life of the troop, he being full of fun and frolic, and
making even the gravest soldier smile at his sallies. When
they halted he was indefatigable in seeing after Philip’s com-
forts: he cut boughs of the trees best suited for the purpose
of making a couch, and surprised his master and Irangois by
his ingenuity in turning out excellent dishes from the scantiest
materials. He would steal away in the night to procure fowls
and eggs from neighbouring farmhouses, and although Philip’s
orders were that he was to pay the full price for everything he
required, Philip found when he gave an account a fortnight
later of how he had spent the money he had given him, that
there was no mention of any payment for these articles. When
he rated Pierre for this the latter replied:

“T did not pay for them, sir. Not in order to save you money,
but for the sake of the farmers and their families. It would
have been worse than cruelty to have aroused them from sleep.
The loss of a fowl or two and of a dozen eggs were nothing to
them; if they missed them at all they would say that a fox
had been there, and they would think no more of it. If, on
the other hand, I had waked them up in the middle of the night
to pay for these trifles they would have been scared out of
their life, thinking when I knocked that some band of robbers
THE BATTLE OF ST. DENIS. 101

was at the door. In their anger at being thus disturbed they
would have been capable of shooting me, and it is well-nigh
certain that at any rate they would have refused to sell their
chickens and eggs at that time of the night. So you see, sir, I
acted for the best for all parties. Two chickens out of scores was
a loss not worth thinking of, while the women escaped the panic
and terror that my waking them up would have caused them.
When I can pay I will assuredly do so, since that is your desire;
but I am sure you will see that under such circumstances it
would be a crime to wake people from their sleep for the sake
of a few sous.”

Philip laughed.

“Besides, sir,” Pierre went on, “these people were either
Huguenots or Catholics. If they were Huguenots they would
be right glad to minister to those who are fighting on their
behalf; if they were Catholics they would rob and murder us
without mercy. Therefore they may think themselves for-
tunate indeed to escape at so trifling a cost from the punish-
ment they deserve.”

“That is all very well, Pierre; but the orders are strict
against plundering, and if the Admiral were to catch you you
would get a sound thrashing with a stirrup-leather.”

“T have risked worse than that, sir, many times in my life,
and if I am caught I will give them leave to use the strap.
But you will see, Monsieur Philip, that if the war goes on
these niceties will soon become out of fashion. At present the
Huguenot lords and gentlemen have money in their pockets to
pay for what they want, but after a time money will become
scarce. They will see that the armies of the king live on plunder
as armies generally do, and when cash runs short they will
have to shut their eyes and let the men provide themselves as
best they can.”

“T hope the war won’t last long enough for that, Pierre.
But at any rate we have money in our pockets at present, and
can pay for what we require; though I do not pretend that
it is a serious matter to take a hen out of a coop, especially
102 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

when you can’t get it otherwise, without, as you say, alarming
a whole family. However, remember my orders are that
everything we want is to be paid for.”

“T understand, sir, and you will see that the next time we
reckon up accounts every item shall be charged for, so that
there will be nothing on your conscience.”

Philip laughed again. “I shall be content if that is the
case, Pierre, and I hope that your conscience will be as clear
as mine will be.”

On the third of November, just a month after leaving Or-
leans, De La Noiie with his troop augmented to three hundred
joined the Prince of Condé before Paris. During the interval
he had traversed the west of France by the route he had
marked out for himself, had raised fifty more men among the
Huguenots of Brittany, and had been joined on the route by
many gentlemen with parties of their retainers. Several bodies
of Catholics had been met and dispersed. Two or three small
towns where the Huguenots had been ill-treated and massacred
were entered, the ringleaders in the persecutions had been
hung, and the authorities had been compelled to pay a heavy
fine, under threat of the whole town being committed to the
flames. :

Everywhere he passed La Noiie had caused proclamations
to be scattered far and wide to the effect that any ill-treatment
of Huguenots would be followed by his return, and by the
heaviest punishment being inflicted upon all who molested
them. And so, having given great encouragement to the
Huguenots and scattered terror among their persecutors, having
ridden great distances and astonished the people of the western
provinces by his energy and activity, La Noiie joined the Prince
of Condé with three hundred men. He was heartily welcomed
on his arrival at the Huguenot camp at St. Denis.

Frangois de Laville and Philip Fletcher had thoroughly
enjoyed the expedition. They had often been in the saddle
from early morning to late at night, and had felt the benefit of
having each two horses. as when the party halted for a day or
THE BATTLE OF ST. DENIS. 103

two they were often sent out with half their troop to visit dis-
tant places to see friends, to bring into the camp magistrates
and others who had been foremost in stirring up the people to
attack the Huguenots, to enter small towns, throw open prisons
and carry off the Huguenots confined there, and occasionally to
hang the leaders of local massacres. In these cases they were
always accompanied by one or other of the older leaders in
command of the party.

Their spare chargers enabled them to be on horseback every
day, while half the troop rested in turn. Sometimes their halts
were made in small towns and villages, but more often they
bivouacked in the open country; being thus, the Count con-
sidered, more watchful and less apt to be surprised. On their
return from these expeditions Pierre always had a meal prepared
for them. In addition to the rations of meat and bread, chicken
and eges, he often contrived to serve up other and daintier food.
His old poaching habits were not forgotten. As soon as the
camp was formed he would go out. and set snares for hares,
traps for birds, and lay lines in the nearest stream, while fish
and game of some sort were generally added to the fare.

“Upon my word,” the Count, who sometimes rode with
them, said one evening, “this varlet of yours, Master Philip,
is an invaluable fellow, and Condé himself cannot be better
served than youare. I have half a mind to take him away from
you, and to appoint him Provider-in-General to our camp. I
warrant me he never learned thus to provide a table honestly;
he must have all the tricks of a poacher at his fingers’ end.”

“T fancy when he was young he had to shift a good deal for
himself, sir,” Philip replied.

“T thought so,” La Noiie laughed. ‘I marked him once or
twice behind your chair at Orleans, and methought then that
he looked too grave to be honest; and there was a twinkle in
his eye that accorded badly with the gravity of his face and
his sober attire. Well, there can be no doubt that in war a
man who has a spice of the rogue in him makes the best of
servants, provided he is but faithful to his master and respects
104 ST, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

his goods, if he does those of no one else, Your rogue is
necessarily a man of resources, and one of that kind will on a
campaign make his master comfortable where one with an
over-scrupulous varlet will well-nigh starve. I had such a
man when I was with Brissac in Northern Italy, but one day
he went out and never returned. Whether a provost-marshal
did me the ill service of hanging him, or whether he was shot
by the peasants, I never knew, but I missed him sorely, and
often went fasting to bed when I should have had a good
supper had he been with me. It is lucky for you both that
you haven’t to depend upon that grim-visaged varlet of Fran-~
cois. JI have no doubt that the countess thought she was
doing well by my cousin when she appointed him to go with
him, and I can believe that he would give his life for him, but
for all that if you had to depend upon him for your meals you
would fare badly indeed.”

De la Noiie was much disappointed on joining the Prince at
finding that the latter’s force had not swollen to larger dimen-
sions. He had with him, after the arrival of the force the
Count had brought from the west, but two thousand horse.
Of these a large proportion were gentlemen, attended only by
a few personal retainers; a fifth only were provided with
lances, and a large number had no defensive armour. Of foot
soldiers he had about the same number as of horse, and of
these about half were armed with arquebuses, the rest being
pikemen. The force under the command of the Constable de
Montmorency inside the walls of Paris was known to be enor-
mously superior in strength, and the Huguenots were unable
to understand why he did not come out to give them battle.
They knew, however, that Count Aremberg was on his way
from the Netherlands with seventeen hundred horse, sent by
the Duke of Alva to the support of the Catholics, and they sup-
posed that Montmorency was waiting for this reinforcement.

On the 9th of November news arrived that Aremberg was
approaching, and D’Andelot, with five hundred horse and
eight hundred of the best-trained arquebusiers, was despatched
THE BATTLE OF ST. DENIS. . 105

to. seize Poissy, and so prevent Aremberg entering Paris. The
next morning the Constable, learning that Condé had weakened
his army by this detachment, marched out from Paris. Seldom
have two European armies met with a greater disparity of
numbers, for while Condé had but fifteen hundred horse and
twelve hundred foot, the Constable marched out with sixteen
thousand infantry, of whom six thousand were Swiss, and
three thousand horse. He had eighteen pieces of artillery,
while Condé was without a single cannon. As soon as this
force was seen pouring out from the gates of Paris the Hugue-
not trumpets blew to arms. All wore over their coats or
armour a white scarf, the distinguishing badge of the Hugue-
nots, and the horsemen were divided into three bodies. De la
Noiie and his following formed part of that under the personal
command of Condé.

“We longed to be here in time for this battle, Philip,” Fran-
cois said, “but I think this is rather more than we bargained
for. They must be nearly ten to one against us. There is
one thing, although the Swiss are good soldiers, the rest of
their infantry are for the most part Parisians, and though
these gentry have proved themselves very valiant in the
massacre of unarmed Huguenot men, women, and children, I
have no belief in their valour when they have to meet men
with swords in their hands. JI would, however, that D’Andelot
with his five hundred horse and eight hundred arquebusiers,
all picked men, were here with us, even if Aremberg with his
seventeen hundred horse were ranged under the Constable.
As it is I can hardly believe that Condé and the Admiral
will really lead us against that huge mass. I should think
that they can but be going to manceuvre so as to fall back in
good order and show a firm face to the enemy. Their footmen
would then be of no use to them, and as I do not think their
horse are more than twice our strength, we might turn upon
them when we get them away from their infantry, and beyond
the range of their cannon.”

As soon, however, as the troops were fairly beyond the gates
106 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

of St. Denis the leaders placed themselves at the head of the
three columns, and with a few inspiring words led them
forward. Coligny was on the right, La Rochefoucauld, Genlis,
and other leaders on the left, and the column commanded by
Condé himself in the centre. Condé, with a number of nobles
and gentlemen, rode in front of the line. Behind them came
the men-at-arms with lances, while those armed only with
swords and pistols followed. Coligny, on the right, was most
advanced, and commenced the battle by charging furiously
down upon the enemy’s left. Facing Condé ‘were the great
mass of the Catholic infantry, but without a moment’s hesita-
tion the little band of but five hundred horse charged right
down upon them. Fortunately for. them it was the Parisians
and not the Swiss upon whom their assault fell. The force
and impetus of their rush was too much for the Parisians,
who broke at the onset, threw away their arms, and fled in a
disorderly mob towards the gates of Paris.

“Never mind those cowards,” the Prince shouted, “there is
nobler game;” and followed by his troop he rode at the Con-
stable, who, with a thousand horse, had taken his post behind
the infantry. Before this body of cavalry could advance to
meet the Huguenots the latter were among them, and a des-
perate hand-to-hand mélée took place. Gradually the Hugue-
nots won their way into the mass, although the old Constable,
fighting as stoutly as the youngest soldier, was setting a splendid
example to his troops. Robert Stuart, a Scotch gentleman in
Condé’s train, fought his way up to him and demanded his
surrender. The Constable’s reply was a blow with the hilt of
the sword which nearly struck Stuart from his horse, knocking
out three of his teeth. A moment later the Constable was
struck by a pistol-ball, but whether it was fired by Stuart him-
self or one of the gentlemen by his side was never known. The
Constable fell, but the fight still raged.

The Royalists, recovered from the first shock, were now press-
ing their adversaries. Condé’s horse was shot by a musket-
ball, and in falling pinned him to the ground so that he was
THE BATTLE OF ST. DENIS. 107

unable to extricate himself. De la Noiie, followed by Francois
and Philip, who were fighting by his side, and other gentlemen,
saw his peril, and rushing forward drove back Condeé’s assail-
ants. Two gentlemen leaping from their horses extricated the
Prince from his fallen steed, and, after hard fighting, placed
him on a horse before one of them, and the troops, repulsing
every attack made on them, fell slowly back to St. Denis. On
the right Coligny had more than held his own against the
enemy, but on the left the Huguenots, encountering Marshal
de Montmorency, the eldest son of the Constable, and suffering
heavily from the arquebus and artillery fire, had been repulsed,
and the Catholics here had gained considerable advantages.

The flight of a large portion of the infantry, and the disorder
caused in the cavalry by the charges of Condé and Coligny,
prevented the Marshal from following up his advantage, and
as the Huguenots fell back upon St. Denis the Royalists retired
into Paris, where the wounded Constable had already been
carried. Victory was claimed by both sides, but belonged to
neither. Each party had lost about four hundred men, a
matter of much greater consequence to the Huguenots than to
the Catholics, the more so as a large proportion of the slain on
their side were gentlemen of rank. Upon the other hand the
loss of the Constable, who died next day, paralysed for a time
the Catholic forces.

A staunch and even bigoted Catholic, and opposed to any
terms of toleration being granted to the Huguenots, he was
opposed to the ambition of the Guises, and was the head of
the Royalist party as distinguished from that of Lorraine.
Catharine, who was the moving spirit of the court, hesitated
to give the power he possessed as Constable into hands that
might use it against her, and persuaded the king to bestow the
supreme command of the army upon his brother, Henri, Duke
of Anjou. The divisions in the court caused by the death of
the Constable, and the question of his successor, prevented any
fresh movements of the army, and enabled the Prince of Condé,
after being rejoined by D’Andelot’s force, to retire unmolested
108 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

three days after the battle, the advanced guard of the Royal-
ists having been driven back into Paris by D’Andelot on his
return, when in his disappointment at being absent from the
battle he fell fiercely upon the enemy, and pursued them hotly
to the gates, burning several windmills close under the walls.

On the evening of the battle De la Noiie had presented his
cousin and Philip to the Prince, speaking in high terms of the
bravery they displayed in the battle, and they had received
Condé’s thanks for the part they had taken in his rescue from
the hands of the Catholics. The Count himself had praised
them highly, but had gently chided Francois for the rashness
he had shown.

“Tt is well to be brave, Francois; but that is not enough.
A man who is brave without being prudent, may with fortune
escape as you have done from a battle without serious wounds,
but he cannot hope for such fortune many times, and his life
would be a very short one. Several times to-day you were
some lengths ahead of me in the mélée, and once or twice
I thought you lost, for I was too closely pressed myself to
render you assistance. It was the confusion alone that saved
you. Your life is a valuable one. You are the head of an old
family, and have no right to throw your life away. Nothing could
have been more gallant than your behaviour, Francois, but you
must learn to temper bravery by prudence. Your cousin
showed his English blood and breeding. When we charged he
was half a length behind me, and at that distance he remained
through the fight, except when I was very hotly pressed, when
he at once closed up beside me. More than once I glanced
round at him, and he was fighting with the coolness of a vet-
eran. It was he who called my attention to Condé’s fall,
which in the mélée might have passed unnoticed by me until
it was too late to save him. He kept his pistols in his holsters
throughout the fray, and it was only when they pressed us so
hotly as we were carrying off the Prince that he used them,
and, as I observed, with effect. I doubt if there was a pistol
save his undischarged at that time; they were a reserve that
THE BATTLE OF ST. DENIS. 109

he maintained for the crisis of the fight. Master Philip, 1
trust that you will have but small opportunity for winning
distinction in this wretched struggle, but were it to last, which
heaven forbid, I should say that you would make a name for
yourself, as assuredly will my cousin Francois, if he were to
temper his enthusiasm with coolness.”

The evening before the Huguenots retired from St. Denis
the Count sent for Francois and his cousin.

“ As you will have heard,” he said, “we retire to-morrow
morning. We have done all, and more that all, that could
have been expected from such a force. We have kept Paris
shut up for ten weeks, and have maintained our position in
face of a force, commanded by the Constable of France, of
well-nigh tenfold our strength. We are now going to march
east to effect a junction with a force under Duke Casimir. He
is to bring us over six thousand horse, three thousand foot, and
four cannon. The march will be toilsome, but the Admiral’s
skill will, I doubt not, enable us to elude the force with which
the enemy will try to bar our way. The Admiral is sending
off the Sieur d’Arblay, whom you both know, to the south of
France in order that he may explain to our friends there the
reason for our movement to the east, for otherwise the news
that we have broken up from before Paris may cause great
discouragement.

“T have proposed to him that you should both accompany
him. You have frequently ridden under his orders during our
expedition to the west, and he knows your qualities. He has
gladly consented to receive you as his companions. It will be
pleasant for him to have two gentlemen with him. He takes
with him his own following of eight men; six of his band fell
in the battle. The Admiral is of opinion that this is somewhat
too small a force for safety, but if you each take the four men-
at-arms who ride behind you it will double his force. Two of
yours fell in the fight I believe, Francois.”

“T have taken two others from the troop to fill their places.”

“Your men all came out of it, Philip, did they not?”
110 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“Yes, sir. They were all wounded, but none of them
seriously, and are all fit to ride.”

“You will understand, Francois, that in separating you from
myself I am doing so for your sakes’ alone. It will be the
Admiral’s policy to avoid fighting. Winter is close upon us
and the work will be hard and toilsome, and doubtless ere we
effect a junction with the Germans very many will succumb to
cold and hardship. You are not as yet inured to this work,
and I would rather not run the risk of your careers ending
from such causes. If I thought there was a prospect of
fighting I should keep you with me, but being as it is I think
it better you should accompany the Sieur D’Arblay. The
mission is a dangerous one, and will demand activity, energy,
and courage, all of which you possess; but in the south you
will have neither cold nor famine to contend with, and far
greater opportunities maybe of gaining credit than you would
in an army like this, where, as they have proved to the enemy,
every man is brave. Another reason, I may own, is that in
this case I consider your youth to be an advantage. We could
hardly have sent one gentleman on such a mission alone, and
with two of equal rank and age, each with eight followers,
difficulties and dissensions might have arisen, while you would
both be content to accept the orders of the Sieur D’Arblay
without discussion, and to look up to him as the leader of your
party.”

Although they would rather have remained with the army,
the lads at once thanked the Count and stated their willingness
to accompany the Sieur D’Arblay, whom they both knew and
liked, being, like De la Noiie, cheerful and of good spirits, not
deeming it necessary to maintain at all times a stern and grave
aspect, or a ruggedness of manner, as well as sombre garments.
De la Noiie at once took them across to D’Arblay’s tent.

“My cousin and his kinsman will gladly ride with you and
place themselves under your orders, D’Arblay. I can warmly
commend them to you. Though they are young I can guarantee
that you will find them, if it comes to blows, as useful as most
THE BATTLE OF ST. DENIS. lll

men ten years their senior, and on any mission that you may
intrust to them I think that you can rely upon their discretion ;
but of that you will judge for yourself when you know some-
what more of them. They will take with them eight men-at-
arms, all of whom will be stout fellows, so that with your own
men you can traverse the country without fear of any party
you are likely to fall in with.”

“T shall be glad to have your cousin and his kinsman with
me,” D’Arblay said courteously. “Between you and I, De la
Noiie, I would infinitely rather have two bright young fellows
of spirit than one of our tough old warriors, who deem it sinful
to smile, and have got a text handy for every occasion. It is
not a very bright world for us at present, and I see not the
use of making it sadder by always wearing a gloomy counten-
ance.”

The next morning the party started and rode south. Avoid-
ing the places held by the Catholics, they visited many of the
chateaux of Huguenot gentlemen, to whom D’Arblay com-
municated the instructions he had received from the Admiral
as to the assemblage of troops and the necessity for raising
such a force as would compel the Royalists to keep a consider-
able army in the south, and so lessen the number who would
gather to oppose his march eastward.

After stopping for a short time in Navarre, and communicating
with some of the principal leaders in that little kingdom, they
turned eastward. They were now passing through a part of
the country where party spirit was extremely bitter, and were
obliged to use some caution, as they were charged to com-
municate with men who were secretly well affected to the
cause, but who, living within reach of the bigoted parliament
of Toulouse, dared not openly avow their faith.

Toulouse had from the time the troubles first began distin-
guished itself for the ferocity with which it had persecuted
the Huguenots, yielding obedience to the various royal edicts of
toleration most reluctantly, and sometimes openly disobeying
them. Thus for many miles round the city those of the Reformed
112 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

faith lived in continual dread, conducting their worship with
extreme secrecy when some pastor in disguise visited the
neighbourhood, and outwardly conforming to the rites of the
Catholic church. Many, however, only needed the approach
of a Huguenot army to throw off the mask and take up arms,
and it was with these that D’Arblay was specially charged to
communicate. Great caution was needed in doing this, as the
visit of a party of Huguenots would, if denounced, have called
down upon them the vengeance of the parliament, who were
animated not only by hatred of the Huguenots, but by the
desire of enriching themselves by the confiscation of the estates
and goods of those they persecuted.

The visits, consequently, were generally made after nightfall,
the men-at-arms being left a mile or two away. D’Arblay found
everywhere a fierce desire to join in the struggle, restrained
only by the fear of the consequences to wives and families during
absence. “Send an army capable of besieging and capturing
Toulouse and there is not one of us who will not rise and give
his blood for the cause, putting into the field every man he can
raise and spending his last crown; but unless such a force
approaches we dare not move. We know that we are strictly
watched, and that on the smallest pretext we and our families
would be dragged to prison. Tell the Admiral that our hearts
and our prayers are with him, and that nothing in the world
would please us so much as to be fighting under his banner; but
until there is a hope of capturing Toulouse we dare not move.”

Such was the answer at every castle, chateau, and farmhouse
where they called. Many of the Huguenots contributed not only
the money they had in their houses but their plate and jewels,
for money was above all things needed to fulfil the engagements
the Admiral had made with the German mercenaries who were
on their march to join him. Sometimes Philip and Francois
both accompanied their leader on his visits; sometimes they
went separately, for they were always able to obtain from the
leading men the names of neighbours who were favourable to
the cause. In the way of money they succeeded beyond their
A RESCUE, 113

expectations, for as the gentlemen in the district had not, like
those where the parties were more equally divided, impoverished
themselves by placing their retainers in the field, they were
able to contribute comparatively large sums to the cause they
had at heart.

CHAPTER VIL

A RESCUE.

De. and his two companions had been engaged for

ten days in visiting the Huguenots within a circuit of
four or five leagues round Toulouse when they learned that
their movements had been reported to the authorities there.
They had one day halted as usual in a wood, when the soldier
on the look-out ran in and reported that a body of horsemen,
some forty or fifty strong, were approaching at a gallop by the
road from the city.

“They may not be after us,” D’Arblay said, “but at any rate
they shall not catch us napping.”

Girths were hastily tightened, armour buckled on, and all
took their places in their saddles. It was too late to retreat,
for the wood was a small one, and the country around open.
As the horsemen approached the wood they slackened speed
and presently halted facing it.

“Some spy has tracked us here,” D’Arblay said, “but it is
one thing to track the game, another to capture it. Let us see
what these gentlemen of Toulouse are going to do. I have no
doubt that they know our number accurately enough, and if
they divide, as I hope they will, we shall be able to give them
a lesson.”

This was evidently the intention of the Catholics, After a
short pause an officer trotted off with half the troop, making a
circuit to come down behind the wood and cut off all retreat.

(777) H
114 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

As they moved off the Huguenots could count that there were
twenty-five men in each section.

. “The odds are only great enough to be agreeable,” D’Arblay
laughed. ‘It is not as it was outside Paris, where they were ten
to one against us. Counting our servants we muster twenty-
two, while that party in front are only four stronger, for that
gentleman with the long robe is probably an official of their
parliament or a city councillor, and need not be counted. We
will wait a couple of minutes longer until the other party is
fairly out of sight, and then we will begin the dance.”

A minute or two later he gave the word, and the little troop
moved through the trees until nearly at the edge of the wood.

“Now, gentlemen, forward,” D’Arblay said, “and God aid
the right.”

As in a compact body, headed by the three gentlemen, they
burst suddenly from the wood, there was a shout of dismay, and
then loud orders from the officer of the troop, halted a hundred
and fifty yards away. The men were sitting carelessly on their
horses; they had confidently anticipated taking the Hugue-
nots alive, and thought of nothing less than that the latter
should take the offensive. Scarcely had they got their horses
into motion before the Huguenots were upon them. The con-
flict lasted but a minute. Half the Catholics were cut down,
the rest turning their horses rode off at full speed. The
Huguenots would have followed them, but D’Arblay shouted
to them to halt.

“You have only done half your work yet,” he said, ‘we
have the other party to deal with.”

Only one of his Huguenots had fallen, shot through the
head by a pistol discharged by the officer, who had himself
been a moment later run through by D’Arblay, at whom the
shot had been aimed. Gathering his men together the Hugue-
not leader rode back, and when half-way through the wood they
encountered the other party, whose officer had at once ridden
to join the party he had left, when he heard the pistol-shot that
told him they were engaged with the Huguenots. Although not
A RESCUE. 115

expecting an attack from an enemy they deemed overmatched
by their comrades, the troop, encouraged by their officer, met
the Huguenots stoutly. The fight was for a short time obsti-
nate. Broken up by the trees, it resolved itself into a series
of single combats. The Huguenot men-at-arms, however, were
all tried soldiers, while their opponents were rather accustomed
to the slaughter of defenceless men and women than to a com-
bat with men-at-arms. Coolness and discipline soon asserted
themselves. Francois and Philip both held their ground
abreast of their leader, and Philip by cutting down the lieu-
tenant brought the combat to a close. His followers on seeing
their officer fall at once lost heart, and those who could do so
turned their horses and rode off. They were hotly pursued,
and six were overtaken and cut down; eight had fallen in the
conflict in the wood.

“That has been a pretty sharp lesson,” D’Arblay said, as
leaving the pursuit to his followers he reined in his horse at
the edge of the wood. “You both did right gallantly, young
sirs. It is no slight advantage in a mélée of that kind to be
strong in officers. The fellows fought stoutly for a short time.
Had it not been for your despatching their officer, Monsieur
Fletcher, we should not have finished with them so quickly.
It was a right down blow, and heartily given, and fell just at
the joint of the gorget.”

“Tam sorry that I killed him,” Philip replied. “He seemed
a brave gentleman, and was not very many years older than
I am myself.”

“He drew it upon himself,” D’Arblay said. “If he had not
come out to take us he would be alive now. Well, as soon as
our fellows return we will move round to Merlincourt on the
other side of the town. There are several of our friends there,
and it is the last place we have to visit. After this skirmish
we shall find the neighbourhood too hot for us. It is sure to
make a great noise, and at the first gleam of the sun on helm
or breast-plate some Catholic or other will hurry off to Tou-
louse with the news. In future we had best take some of
116 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

the men-at-arms with us when we pay our visits, or we may be
caught like rats in a trap.”

Making a circuit of twenty miles they approached Merlin-
court that evening, and establishing themselves as usual in a
wood, remained quiet there next day. After nightfall D’Arblay
rode off, taking with him Francois and five of his own men, and
leaving Philip in command of the rest. The gold and jewels
they had gathered had been divided into three portions, and
the bags placed in the holsters of the saddles of the three
lackeys, as these were less likely to be taken than their masters,
and if one were captured a portion only of the contributions
would be lost. D’Arblay had arranged that he would not return
that night, but would sleep at the chateau of the gentleman
he was going to visit.

“T will get him to send around to our other friends in the
morning. The men will return when they see that all is clear.
Send them back to meet us at the chateau to-morrow night.”

The five men returned an hour after they set out and
reported that all was quiet at Merlincourt, and that the Sieur
D’Arblay had sent a message to Philip to move a few miles
farther away before morning, and to return to the wood soon
after nightfall. Philip gave the men six hours to rest them-
selves and their horses, they then mounted and rode eight
miles farther from Toulouse, halting before daybreak in a
thick copse standing on high ground, commanding a view of
a wide tract of country. Two of the troopers were sent off to
buy provisions in a village half a mile away, two were placed
on watch, some of the others lay down for another sleep, while
Pierre redressed the wounds that five of the men had reccived
in the fight. At twelve o'clock one of the look-outs reported
that he could see away out on the plain a body of horsemen.
Philip at once went to examine them for himself.

“There must be some two hundred of them I should say by
the size of the clump,” he remarked to the soldier.

“ About that I should say, sir.”

“T expect they are hunting for us,” Philip said. ‘They
A RESCUE. 117

must have heard from some villager that we were seen to
ride round this way the day before yesterday, or they would
hardly be hunting in this neighbourhood for us. It is well we
moved in the night. I wish the Sieur D’Arblay and the Count
de Laville were with us. No doubt they were hidden away as
soon as the troop was seen, but one is never secure against
treachery.”

Philip was restless and uncomfortable all day, and walked
about the wood impatiently longing for night to come. As
soon as it was dark they mounted and rode back to the wood
near Merlincourt. The five men were at once-sent off to the
chateau where they had left their leaders.

“That is a pistol-shot!” Pierre exclaimed some twenty
minutes after they left.

“T did not hear it. Are you sure, Pierre?”

“Quite sure, sir. At least I will not swear that it was a
pistol, it might have been an arquebus, but I will swear it was
a shot.”

“To your saddle, men,” Philip said. “A pistol-shot has
been heard, and it may be that your comrades have fallen into
an ambush. Advance to the edge of the wood, and be ready
to dash out to support them should they come.”

But a quarter of an hour passed and there was no sound to
break the stillness of the evening.

“Shall I go into the village and find out what has taken
place, Monsieur Fletcher? I will leave my iron cap and breast
and back pieces here. I shall not want to fight but to run, and
a hare could not run in these iron pots.”

“Do, Pierre. We shall be ready to support you if you are
chased.”

“Tf Iam chased by half a dozen men I may run here, sir;
if by a strong force I shall strike across the country. Trust
me to double and throw them off the scent. If I am not back
here in an hour, it will be that I am taken or have had to trust
to my heels, and you will find me in the last case to-morrow
morning at the wood where we halted to-day. If I do not come
118 ST. BARTHOLOMEW S EVE.

soon after daybreak, you will know that I am either captured
or killed. Do not delay for me longer, but act as seems best
to you.”

Pierre took off his armour and sped away in the darkness,
going at a trot that would speedily take him to the village.

“Dismount and stand by your horses,” Philip ordered.
“We may want all their strength.”

Half an hour later Pierre returned panting.

“JT have bad news, sir. I have prowled about the village,
which is full of soldiers, and listened to their talk through open
windows. The Sieur D’Arblay, Monsieur Francois, and the
owner of the chateau and his wife were seized and carried off
to Toulouse this morning soon after daybreak. By what I
heard, one of the servants of the chateau was a spy set by the
council of Toulouse to watch the doings of its owner, and as
soon as Monsieur D’Arblay arrived there last night, he stole
out and sent a messenger to Toulouse. At daybreak the
chateau was surrounded and they were seized before they had
time to offer resistance. The troop of horse we saw have all
day been searching for us, and went back before nightfall to
Merlincourt, thinking that we should be sure to be going there
sometime or other to inquire after our captain. The five men
you sent were taken completely by surprise, and all were
killed, though not without a tough fight. A strong party are
lying in ambush with arquebuses, making sure that me rest of
the troop will follow the five they surprised.”

“You were not noticed, Pierre, or pursued?”

“No, sir; there were so many men about in the village that
one more stranger attracted no attention.”

“Then we can remain here safely for half an hour,” Philip
said.

The conversation had taken place a few paces from the
troop. Philip now joined his men.

“The Sieur D’Arblay and Count Francois have been taken
prisoners. Your comrades fell into an ambush, and have, I
fear, all lost their lives. Dismount for half an hour, men
A RESCUE. 119

while I think over what is best to be done. Keep close to
your horses, so as to be in readiness to mount instantly if
necessary. One of you take my horse. Do you come with
me, Pierre. This is a terrible business, lad,” he went on as
they walked away from the others. ‘ We know what will be
the fate of my cousin and Monsieur D’Arblay. They will be
burnt or hung as heretics. The first thing is, how are we
to get them out, and also if possible the gentleman and his
wife who were taken with them?”

“We have but ten of the men-at-arms left, sir, and four of
them are so wounded that they would not count for much in a
fight. There are the two other lackeys and myself; so we are
but fourteen in all. If we had arrived in time we might have
done something, but now they are firmly lodged in the prison
at Toulouse I see not that we can accomplish anything.”

Philip fell into silence for some minutes, then he said:
“Many of the councillors and members of parliament live, I
think, in villas outside the walls, if we seize a dozen of them,
appear before the city and threaten to hang or shoot the whole
of them if the four captives are not released, we might succeed
in getting our friends into our hands, Pierre.”

“That is so, sir. There really seems a hope for us in that
way.”

“Then we will lose no time. We will ride at once for
Toulouse. When we get near the suburbs we will seize some
countryman and force him to point out to us the houses of the
principal councillors and the members of their parliament.
These we will pounce upon and carry off, and at daybreak will
appear with them before the walls. We will make one of them
signify to their friends that if any armed party sallies out through
the gates, or approaches us from behind, it will be the signal
for the instant death of all of our captives. Now let us be off
at once.”

The party mounted without delay and rode towards Tou
louse. This rich and powerful city was surrounded by hand-
some villas and chateaux, the abode of wealthy citizens and
120 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

persons of distinction. At the first house at which they
stopped Philip with Pierre and two of the men-at-arms dis-
mounted and entered. It was the abode of a small farmer,
who cultivated vegetables for the use of the townsfolk, He
had retired to bed with his family, but upon being summoned
came downstairs trembling, fearing that his late visitors were
bandits.

“No harm will be done to you if you obey our orders,”
Philip said, “but if not we shall make short work of you. I
suppose you know the houses of most of the principal persons
who live outside the walls?”

“Assuredly I do, my lord. There is the President of the
Parliament and three or four of the principal councillors, and
the Judge of the High Court and many others, all living
within a short mile of this spot.”

“Well, I require you to guide us to their houses, There
will be no occasion for you to show yourself, nor will any-
one know that you have had aught to do with the matter. If
you attempt to escape or to give the alarm, you will without
scruple be shot; if on the other hand we are satisfied with
your work, you will have a couple of crowns for your trouble.”

The man seeing that he had no choice put a good face on it.
“T am ready to do as your lordship commands,” he said. “I
have no reason for good-will towards any of these personages,
who rule us harshly and regard us as if we were dirt under
their feet. Shall we go first to the nearest of them?”

“No, we will first call on the President of the Parliament, and
then the Judge of the High Court, then the councillors in the
order of their rank. We will visit ten in all, and see that you
choose the most important. Pierre, you will take charge of
this man and ride in front of us. Keep your pistol in your
hand, and shoot him through the head if he shows signs of
trying to escape. You will remain with him when we enter
the houses. Have you any rope, my man?”

“Yes, my lord, I have several long ropes with which I bind
the vegetables on my cart when I go to market.
A RESCUE. 121

“That will do, bring them at once.”

Pierre accompanied the man when he went to his shed. On
his return with the ropes Philip told the men-at-arms to cut
them into lengths of eight feet, and to make a running noose at
one end of each. When this was done they again mounted
and moved on.

‘When we enter the houses,” he said to the two other
lackeys, “you will remain without with Pierre, and will take
charge of the first four prisoners we bring out. Put the
nooses round their necks and draw them tight enough to let
the men feel that they are there. Fasten the other ends to
your saddles, and warn them if they put up their hands to
throw off the nooses you will spur your horses into a gallop.
That threat will keep them quiet enough.”

In a quarter of an hour they arrived at the gate of a large
and handsome villa. Philip ordered his men to dismount and
fasten up their horses.

“You will remain here in charge of the horses,” he said to
the lackeys, and then with the men-at-arms he went up to
the house. Two of them were posted at the back entrance,
two at the front, with orders to let no one issue out, Then
with his dagger he opened the shutters of one of the windows,
and followed by the other six men entered. The door was
soon found, and opening it they found themselves in a hall
where a hanging light was burning. Several servants were
asleep on the floor. These started up with exclamations of
alarm at seeing seven men with drawn swords.

“Silence!” Philip said sternly, “or this will be your last
moment. Roger and Jules, do you take each one of these
lackeys by the collar. That is right. Now put your pistols
to their heads. Now, my men, lead us at once to your master’s
chamber. Eustace, light one of these torches on the wall at the
lamp and bring it along with you. Henri, do you also come
with us, the rest of you stay here and guard these lackeys. Make
them sit down. If any of them move run him through with-
out hesitation.”
122 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

At this moment an angry voice was heard shouting above.

“What is all this disturbance about? Ji I hear another
sound I will discharge you all in the morning.”

Philip gave a loud and derisive laugh, which had the effect
he had anticipated, for directly afterwards a man in a loose
dressing-gown ran into the hall.

“What does this mean, you rascals?” he shouted angrily as
he entered. Then he stopped petrified with astonishment.

“Tt means this,” Philip said, levelling a pistol at him, “ that
if you move a step you are a dead man.”

“You must be mad,” the president gasped. “Do you know
who I am?”

“Perfectly, sir. You are president of the infamous parlia-
ment of Toulouse. I ama Huguenot officer, and you are my
prisoner. You need not look so indignant; better men than
you have been dragged from their homes to prison and death
by your orders. Now it is your turn to be a prisoner. I
might, if I chose, set fire to this chateau and cut the throats
of all in it, but we do not murder in the. name of God, we
leave that to you. Take this man away with you, Eustace.
I give him into your charge; if he struggles or offers the least
resistance stab him to the heart.”

“You will at least give me time to dress, sir?” the president
said. 5

“Not a moment,” Philip replied. ‘The night is warm, and
-you will do very well as you are. As for you,” he went on
turning to the servants, “you will remain quiet until morning,
and if any of you dare to leave the house you will be slain
without mercy. You can assure your mistress that she will
not be long without the society of your master, for in all pro-
bability he will be returned safe and sound before mid-day to-
morrow. One of you may fetch your master’s cloak, since he
seems to fear the night air.”

The doors were opened and they issued out, Philip bidding
the servants close and bar them behind them. When they
reached the horses the prisoner was handed over to D’Arblay’s


MOVE A STEP YOU ARE A DEAD MAN,”

YOU

F

oer
A RESCUE. 123

lackey, who placed the noose round his neck and gave him
warning as Philip had instructed him. Then they set off,
Pierre with the guide again leading the way. Before morning
they had ten prisoners in their hands. In one or two cases
the servants had attempted opposition, but they were speedily
overpowered, and the captures were all effected without loss
of life. The party then moved away about a mile, and the
prisoners were allowed to sit down. Several of them were
elderly men, and Philip picked these out by the light of two
torches they had brought from the last house, and ordered the
ropes to be removed from their necks.

“T should regret, gentlemen,” he said, “the indignity that
I have been forced to place upon you had you been other than
you are. It is well, however, that you should have felt,
though in a very slight degree, something of the treatment
that you have all been instrumental in inflicting upon blameless
men and women, whose only fault was that they chose to wor-
ship God in their own way. You may thank your good fortune
at having fallen into the hands of one who has had no dear
friends murdered in the prisons of Toulouse. There are scores
of men who would have strung you up without mercy, think-
ing it a righteous retribution for the pitiless cruelties of which
the parliament of Toulouse has been guilty.

“Happily for you, though I regard you with loathing as
pitiless persecutors, I have no personal wrongs to avenge. Your
conscience will tell you that, fallen as you have into the hands of
Huguenots, you could only expect death; but it is not for the pur-
pose of punishment that you have been captured; you are taken
as hostages. My friends the Count de Laville and the Sieur
D’Arblay were yesterday carried prisoners into Toulouse, and
with them Monsieur de Merouville, whose only fault was that
he had afforded them a night’s shelter. His innocent wife was
also dragged away with him. You sir,” he said to one of the
prisoners, “‘appear to me to be the oldest of the party. At
daybreak you will be released, and will bear to your colleagues
in the city the news that these nine persons are prisoners in
124 ST. BARTHOLOMEW 8S EVE,

my hands. You will state that if any body of men approaches
this place from any quarter these nine persons will at once be
hung up to the branches above us. You will say that I hold them
as hostages for the four prisoners, and that I demand that these
shall be sent out here with their horses and the arms of my
two friends and under the escort of two unarmed troopers.
These gentlemen here will, before you start, sign a document
ordering the said prisoners at once to be released, and will also
sign a solemn undertaking, which will be handed over to
Monsieur de Merouville, pledging themselves that should he
and his wife chose to return to their chateau no harm shall ever
happen to them, and no accusation of any sort in the future be
brought against them.

“T may add that should at any time this guarantee be broken,
I shall consider it my duty the moment I hear of the event to
return to this neighbourhood, and assuredly I will hang the signa-
tories of the guarantee over their own door-posts and will burn
their villas to the ground. I know the value of oaths sworn to
Huguenots; but in this case I think they will be kept, for I
swear to you—and I am in the habit of keeping my oaths—
that if you break your undertaking I will not break mine.”

As soon as it was daylight Pierre produced from his saddle-
bag an ink-horn, paper, and pens, and the ten prisoners signed
their name to an order for the release of the four captives.
They then wrote another document to be handed by their re
presentative to the governor, begging him to see that the order
was executed, informing him of the position they were in, and
that their lives would certainly be forfeited unless the prisoners
were released without delay; they also earnestly begged him to
send out orders to the armed forces who were searching for the
Huguenots, bidding them make no movement whatever until
after mid-day.

The councillor was then mounted on a horse and escorted
by two of the men-at-arms to within a quarter of a mile of the
nearest gate of the city. The men were to return with his
horse. The councillor was informed that ten o’clock was the
A RESCUE. 125

limit given for the return of the prisoners, and that unless they
had by that hour arrived it would be supposed that the order
for their release would not be respected, and in that case
the nine hostages would be hung forthwith, and that in the
course of a night or two another batch would be carried off.
Philip had little fear, however, that there would be any hesita-
tion upon the part of those in the town in acting upon the
order signed by so many important persons, for the death of
the president and several of the leading members of the
parliament would create such an outcry against the governor
by their friends and relatives, that he would not venture to
refuse the release of four prisoners of minor importance in
order to save their lives.

After the messenger had departed Philip had the guarantee
for the safety of Monsieur de Merouville and his wife drawn
up and signed in duplicate, ‘

“One of these documents,” he said, “I shall give to Monsieur
de Merouville, the other I shall keep myself, so that if this
solemn guarantee is broken I shall have this as a justification
for the execution of the perjured men who signed it.”

The time passed slowly. Some of the prisoners walked anx-
iously and impatiently to and fro, looking continually towards
the town; others sat in gloomy silence, too humiliated at their
present position even to talk to one another. The soldiers on
the contrary were in high spirits; they rejoiced at the prospect
of the return of their two leaders, and they felt proud of having
taken part in such an exploit as the capture of the chief men
of the dreaded parliament of Toulouse. Four of them kept a
vigilant guard over the prisoners, the rest ate their breakfast
with great gusto and laughed and joked at the angry faces of
some of their prisoners. It was just nine o’clock when a small
group of horsemen were seen in the distance.

“T think there are six of them, sir,” Eustace said.

“That is the right number, Eustace. The lady is doubtless
riding behind her husband, two men are the escort, and the
other is no doubt the councillor we released, who is now acting
126 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

as guide to this spot. Bring my horse, Pierre,” and mounting
Philip rode off to meet the party. He was soon able to make
out the figures of Francois and D’Arblay, and putting his horse
to a gallop was speedily alongside of them.

‘What miracle is this?” Monsieur D’Arblay asked after the
first greeting was over. “At present we are all in a maze.
We were in separate dungeons, and the prospect looked as
hopeless as it could well do, when the doors opened and an
officer followed by two soldiers bearing our armour and arms
entered and told us to attire ourselves. What was meant we
could not imagine. We supposed we were going to be led
before some tribunal, but why they should arm us before taking
us there was more than we could imagine. We met in the
courtyard of the prison, and were stupified at seeing our horses
saddled and bridled there, and Monsieur De Merouville and his
wife already mounted. Two unarmed troopers were also there,
and this gentlemen, who said sourly, ‘Mount, sirs, Iam going
to lead you to your friends.’ We looked at each other to sce
if we were dreaming, but you may imagine we were not long
in leaping into our saddles. ‘This gentleman has not been
communicative. In fact by his manner I should say he is
deeply disgusted at the singular mission with which he was
charged, and on the ride here Francois, Monsieur de Merouville,
and myself have exhausted ourselves in conjectures as to how
this miracle has come about.”

“Wait two or three minutes longer,” Philip said with a
smile. ‘When you get to yonder trees you will receive an
explanation.”

Frangois and Monsieur D’Arblay gazed in surprise at the
figures of nine men, all in scanty raiments, wrapped up in
cloaks, and evidently guarded by the men-at-arms, who set up a
joyous shout as they rode in. Monsieur de Merouville uttered
an exclamation of astonishment as he recognized the dreaded
personages collected together in such a plight.

‘‘Monsieur de Merouville,” Philip said, “I believe you know
these gentlemen by sight. Monsieur D’Arblay and Francois,
A RESCUE. 127

you are not so fortunate as to be acquainted with them, and I
have pleasure in introducing to you the President of the
Parliament of Toulouse, the Judge of the High Court, and other
councillors, all gentlemen of consideration. It has been my
misfortune to have had to treat these gentlemen with scant
courtesy, but the circumstances left me no choice. Monsieur
de Merouville, here is a document, signed by these nine gentle-
men, giving a solemn undertaking that you and Madame shall
be in future permitted to reside in your chateau without the
slightest let or hindrance, and that you shall suffer no molesta-
tion whatever, either on account of this affair or on the. ques-
tion of religion. I have a duplicate of this document, and have
on my part given an undertaking that if its terms are broken
I will at whatever inconvenience to myself return to this neigh-
bourhood, hang these ten gentlemen if I can catch them, and at
any rate burn their chateaux to the ground. Therefore, I think
as you have their undertaking and mine you can without fear
return home; but this, of course, I leave to yourself to decide.
Gentlemen, you are now free to return to your homes, and I
trust this lesson—that we on our part can strike if necessary—
will have some effect in moderating your zeal for persecution.”

Without a word the president and his companions walked
away in a body. The troopers began to jeer and laugh, but
Philip held up his hand for silence.

“There need be no extra scorn,” he said, “these gentlemen
have been sufficiently humiliated.”

‘And you really fetched all these good gentlemen from their
beds,” D’Arblay said, bursting into a fit of laughter. “ Why,
it was worth being taken prisoner were it only for the sake of
seeing them. They looked like a number of old owls suddenly
disturbed by daylight—some of them round-eyed with aston-
ishment, some of them hissing menacingly. By my faith,
Philip, it will go hard with you if you ever fall into the hands
of those worthies. But a truce to jokes. We owe you our
lives, Philip; of that there is not a shadow of doubt. Though
I have no more fear than another of death in battle, I own
128 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

that I have a dread of being tortured and burned. It was a
bold stroke thus to carry off the men who have been the
leaders of the persecution against us.”

“There was nothing in the feat, if it can be called a feat,”
Philip said. ‘Of course directly we heard that you had been
seized and carried into Toulouse, I cast about for the best means
to save you. To attempt it by force would have been simple
madness, and any other plan would have required time, power-
ful friends, and a knowledge of the city; and even then we
should probably have failed to get you out of prison. This
being so, it was evident that the best plan was to seize some
of the citizens of importance, who might serve as hostages.
There was no difficulty in finding out from a small cultivator
who were the principal men living outside the walls, and their
capture was as easy a business. Scarcely a blow was struck
and no lives lost in capturing the whole of them.”

“But some of the men are missing,” D’Arblay said.

“Yes; five of your men, I am sorry to say. On gotting
back to the wood after dark I sent them, as you ordered, to
fetch you from Monsieur de Merouville’s; but of course you
had been captured before that, and they fell into an ambush
that was laid for them and were all killed.”

“That is a bad business, Philip. Well, M. de Merouville,
will you go with us or will you trust in this safeguard ?”

“In the first place, you have not given me a moments op-
portunity of thanking this gentleman, not only for having
saved the lives of my wife and myself, but for the forethought
and consideration with which he has, in the midst of his
anxiety for you and Monsieur de Laville, shown for us who
were entire strangers to him. Be assured, Monsieur Fletcher,
that we are deeply grateful. I hope that some time in the
future, should peace ever again be restored to France, we may
be able to meet you again and express more warmly the obli-
gations we feel towards you.”

Madame de Merouville added a few words of gratitude, and
then D’Arblay broke in with—
A RESCUE. 129

“De Merouville, you must set'le at once whether to go with
us or stay on the faith of this safeguard. We have no such
protection, and if we linger here we shall be having half a
dozen troops of horse after us. You may be sure they will be
sent off as soon as the president and his friends reach the
city, and if we were caught again we should be in an even
worse plight than before. Do you talk it over with Madame,
and while you are doing so Francois and I will drink a flask
of wine, and eat anything we can find here, for they forgot to
give us breakfast before they sent us off, and it is likely we
shall not have another opportunity for some hours.”

“What do you think, Monsieur Fletcher?” M. de Merouville
said after speaking for a few minutes with his wife; “will they
respect this pledge? If not we must go, but we are both past
the age when we can take up life anew. My property would,
of course, be confiscated, and we should be penniless among
strangers.”

“TJ think they will respect the pledge,” Philip replied. “T
assured them so solemnly that any breach of their promises
would be followed by prompt vengeance upon themselves and
their homes, that I feel sure they will not run the risk. Two
or three among them might possibly do so, but the others
would restrain them. I believe that you can safely return,
and that, for a long time, at any rate, you will be unmo-
lested. Still, if I might advise, I should say sell your property
as soon as you can find a purchaser at any reasonable price,
and then remove either to La Rochelle or cross the sea to
England. You may be sure that there will be a deep and
bitter hatred against you by those whose humiliation you have
witnessed.” :

“Thank you, I will follow your advice, M. Fletcher, and I
hope that I may ere long have the pleasure of seeing you, and
of worthily expressing our deep sense of the debt of gratitude
we owe you.”

Five minutes later the troop mounted and rode away, while

M. de Merouville, with his wife behind him, started for home.
(777) I
130 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“T hope, Francois,” D’Arblay said as they galloped off from
the wood, “that the next time I ride on an expedition your
kinsman may again be with me, for he has wit and resources
that render him a valuable companion indeed.”

“T had great hopes, even when I was in prison, and things
looked almost as bad as they could be,” Francois said, “that
Philip would do something to help us. I had much faith in
his long-headedness, and so has the countess, my mother. She
said to me when we started, ‘You are older than Philip, Fran-
cois, but you will act wisely if in cases of difficulty you defer
your opinions to his; his training has given him self-reliance
and judgment, and he has been more in the habit of thinking
for himself than you have,’ and certainly he has fully justified
her opinion. Where do you propose to ride next, D’Arblay?”

“For La Rochelle; I shall not feel safe until I am within
the walls. . Presidents of Parliament, judges of High Court,
and dignified functionaries are not to be dragged from their
beds with impunity. Happily it will take them an hour and
a half to walk back to the town, or longer perhaps, for they
will doubtless go first to their own homes. They will never
show themselves in such sorry plight in the streets of the city
where they are accustomed to lord it; so we may count on at
least two hours before they can take any steps. After that
they will move heaven and earth to capture us. They will
send out troops of horse after us, and messengers to every city
in the province calling upon the governors to take every means
to seize us. We have collected a good sum of money, and car-
ried out the greater portion of our mission. We shall only risk
its loss, as well as the loss of our own lives, by going forward.
The horses are fresh, and we will put as many miles between
us and Toulouse as they can carry us before nightfall.”

The return journey was accomplished without misadventure.
They made no more halts than were required to rest their
horses, and travelling principally at night they reached La
Rochelle without having encountered any body of the enemy.

While they had been absent the army of Condé and the
A RESCUE. 131

Admiral had marched into Lorraine, and eluding the forces that
barred his march, effected a junction with the German men-at-
arms who had been brought to their aid by the Duke Casimir,
the second son of the Elector Palatine. However, the Germans
refused to march a step farther unless they received the pay
that had been agreed upon before they started. Condé’s trea-
sury was empty, and he had no means whatever of satisfying
their demand. In vain Duke Casimir himself tried to persuade
his soldiers to defer their claims and to trust their French co-
religionists to satisfy their demands later on. They were
unanimous in their refusal to march a step until they obtained
their money.

The Admiral then addressed himself to his officers and
soldiers. He pointed out:-to them that at the present moment
everything depended upon their obtaining the assistance of the
Germans, who were indeed only demanding their rights accord-
ing to the agreement that had been made with them, and he
implored them to come to the assistance of the prince and him-
self at this crisis. So great was his influence among his soldiers
that his appeal was promptly and generally acceded to, and
officers and men alike stripped themselves of their chains,
jewels, money, and valuables of all kinds, and so made up the
sum required to satisfy the Germans.

As soon as this important affair had been settled, the united
army turned its face again westward, with the intention of
giving battle anew under the walls of Paris. It was, however,
terribly deficient in artillery, powder, and stores of all kinds, and
the military chest being empty, and the soldiers without pay,
it was necessary on the march to exact contributions from the
small Catholic towns and villages through which the army
marched, and in spite of the orders of the Admiral a certain
amount of pillage was carried on by the soldiers. Having re-
cruited the strength of his troops by a short stay at Orleans,
the Admiral moved towards Paris. Since the commencement
of the war negotiations had been going on fitfully. When the
court thought that the Huguenots were formidable they pushed
132 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

on the negotiations in earnest. Whenever, upon the contrary,
they believed that the royal forces would be able to crush those
of the Admiral, the negotiations at once came to a stand-still.

, During the Admiral’s long march to the east they would
grant no terms whatever that could possibly be accepted, but
as soon as the junction was effected with Duke Casimir and
his Germans, and the Huguenot army again turned its face to
Paris, the court became eager to conclude peace. When the
Prince of Condé’s army arrived before Chartres the negotiators
met, and the king professed a readiness to grant so many con-
cessions that it seemed as if the objects of the Huguenots could
be attained without further fighting, and the Cardinal of Cha-
tillon and some Huguenot nobles went forward to have a per-
sonal conference with the royal commissioners at Lonjumeau.

After much discussion the points most insisted upon by the
Huguenots were conceded and the articles of a treaty drawn
up, copies of which were sent to Paris and Chartres. The
Admiral and Condé both perceived that, in the absence of any
guarantees for the observance of the conditions to which the
other side bound themselves, the treaty would be of little avail,
as it could be broken as soon as the army now menacing Paris
was scattered. The feeling among the great portion of the
nobles and their followers was, however, strongly in favour
of the conditions being accepted. The nobles were becoming
beggared by the continuance of the war, the expenses of which
had, for the most part, to be paid from their private means.
Their followers, indeed, received no pay, but they had to be
fed, and their estates were lying untilled for want of hands.
Their men were eager to. return to their farms and families, and
so strong and general was the desire for peace that the Admiral
and Condé bowed to it.

They agreed to the terms, and pending their ratification
raised the siege of Chartres. Already their force was dwind-
ling rapidly; large numbers marched away to their homes
without even asking for leave, and their leaders soon ceased
to be in a position to make any demands for guarantees, and
THE THIRD HUGUENOT WAR, 133

the peace of Lonjumeau was therefore signed. Its provisions
gave very little more to the Huguenots than that of the pre-
ceding arrangement of the same kind, and the campaign left
the parties in much the same position as they had occupied
before the Huguenots took up arms.

CHAPTER VIII.
THE THIRD HUGUENOT WAR.

bo the treaty of Lonjumeau had been signed many

weeks, the Huguenots were sensible of the folly they had
committed in throwing away all the advantages they had
gained in the war by laying down their arms upon the terms of
a treaty made by a perfidious woman, and a weak and unstable
king, with advisers bent upon destroying the reformed religion.
They had seen former edicts of toleration first modified and
then revoked, and they had no reason even to hope that the
new treaty, which had been wrung from the court by its fears,
would be respected by it. The Huguenots were not surprised
to find, therefore, that as soon as they had sent back their
German auxiliaries and returned to their homes—the ink,
indeed, was scarcely dry on the paper upon which the treaty
was written—its conditions were virtually annulled.

From the pulpit of every Catholic church in France the
treaty was denounced in the most violent language, and it was
openly declared that there could be no peace with the Hugue-
nots. These, as they returned home, were murdered in great
numbers, and in many of the cities the mobs rose and massacred
the defenceless Protestants. Heavy as had been the persecu-
tions before the outbreak of the war, they were exceeded by
those that followed it. Some of the governors of the provinces
openly refused to carry out the conditions of the treaty. Charles
issued a proclamation that the edict was not intended to include
any of the districts that were appanages of his mother or of
134 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

any of the royal or Bourbon princes. In the towns the soldiers
were quartered upon the Huguenots, whom they robbed and ill-
treated at their pleasure; and during the six months that this
nominal peace lasted no less than ten thousand Huguenots were
slaughtered in various parts of France.

“The Prince of Condé, the Admiral, his brothers, and our
other leaders, may be skilful generals and brave men,” the
Countess de Laville said indignantly to Francois, when with
the troop, reduced by war, fever, and hardship to one-third of
its number, he had returned to the chateau, “but they cannot
have had their senses about them when they permitted them-
selves to be cozened into laying down their arms without re-
ceiving a single guarantee that the terms of the treaty should
be observed. Far better never to have taken up arms at all.
The king has come to regard us as enemies; the Catholics
hate us more than ever for our successful resistance. In-
stead of being in a better position than we were before, we
shall be in a worse. We have given up all the towns we had
captured, thrown away every advantage we had gained, and
when we are again driven to take up arms we shall be in a
worse position than before, for they no longer despise us, and
will in future be on their guard. There will be no repeating
the surprise of last September. I am disappointed above all in
the Admiral, D’Andelot, La Rochefoucauld, and Genlis. Condé
I have never trusted as one to be relied upon in an extremity.
He is a royal prince, has been brought up in courts, and loves
gaiety and ease; and although I say not that he is untrue to
the Huguenot cause, yet he would gladly accommodate matters;
and as we see even in this treaty, the great bulk of the Hugue-
nots all over the country have been utterly deserted, their
liberty of worship denied, and their very lives are at the mercy of
the bigots. What do you think, Philip? Have you had enough
of fighting for a party who wilfully throw away all that they
have won by their sacrifices? Are you thinking of returning
home, or will you wait for a while to see how matters go on?”

“I will, with your permission, wait,” Philip said. “I lament
THE THIRD HUGUENOT WAR. 135

this peace, which seems to me to leave us in a worse position
than before the war; but I agree with you that it cannot last,
and that ere long the Huguenots will be driven again to take
up arms. Frangois and I have become as brothers, and until
the cause is either lost or won I would fain remain.”

“That is well, Philip; I will be glad to have you with us, my
nephew. La Noiie wrote to me a month since saying that both
my son and you had borne yourselves very gallantly, that
he was well pleased to have had you with him, and that he
thought that if these wars of religion continued, which they
might well do for a long time, as in Germany and Holland as
well as in France the reformed religion is battling for freedom,
you would both rise to eminence as soldiers. However, now
that peace is made we must make the best of it. I should
think it will not be broken until after the harvest and vintage,
for until then all will be employed, and the Catholics as well
as the Huguenots must repair their losses and gather funds
before they can again take the field with their retainers.
Therefore until then I think that there will be peace.”

The summer passed quietly at Laville. The tales of massacre
and outrage that came from all parts of France filled them with
horror and indignation, but in their own neighbourhood all
was quiet. Rochelle had refused to open her gates to the royal
troops, and as in all that district the Huguenots were too
numerous to be interfered with by their neighbours, the quiet
was unbroken. Nevertheless it was certain that hostilities
would not be long delayed. The Catholics, seeing the advan-
tage that the perfect organization of the Huguenots had given
them at the commencement of the war, had established leagues
in almost every province. These were organized by the clergy
and the party that looked upon the Guises as their leaders, and
by the terms of their constitution were evidently determined
to carry out the extirpation of the reformed religion with or
without the royal authority, and were, indeed, bent upon form-
ing a third party in the state, looking to Philip of Spain
rather than to the King of France as their leader.
136 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

So frequent and daring were the outrages in Paris that
Condé soon found that his life was not safe there, and re-
tired to Noyers, a small town in Burgundy. Admiral Coligny,
who had been saddened by the loss of his brave wife, who had
died from a disease contracted in attending upon the sick and
wounded soldiers at Orleans, had abandoned the chateau at
Chatillon-sur-Loing, where he had kept up a princely hospi-
tality, and retired to the castle of Tanlay, belonging to his
brother D’Andelot, situated within a few miles of Noyers.
D’Andelot himself had gone to Brittany, after writing a remon-
strance to Catharine de Medici upon the ruin and desolation
that the breaches of the treaty and the persecution of a section
of the population were bringing upon France.

The Chancellor L’Hopital had in vain urged toleration. His
adversaries in the royal council were too strong forhim, The
Cardinal of Lorraine had regained his old influence. The king
appointed as his preachers four of the most violent advocates
of persecution. The De Montmorencys for a time struggled
successfully against the influence of the Cardinal of Lorraine,
who sought supreme power under cover of Henry of Anjou’s
name. Three of the marshals of France, Montmorency, his
brother Danville, and Vielleville, supported by Cardinal Bour-
bon, demanded of the council that D’Anjou should no longer
hold the office of lieutenant-general. Catharine at times aided
the Guises, at times the Montmorencys, playing off one party
against the other, but chiefly inclining to the Guises, who gradu-
ally obtained such an ascendency that the Chancellor L’Hopital
in despair retired from the council, and thus removed the great-
est obstacle to the schemes and ambition of the Cardinal of
Lorraine.

At the commencement of August the king despatched to all
parts of his dominions copies of an oath that was to be de-
manded from every Huguenot; it called upon them to swear
never to take up arms save by the express command of the
king, nor to assist with counsel, money, or food any who did so,
and to join their fellow-citizens in the defence of their towns
THE THIRD HUGUENOT WAR. 137

against those who disobeyed this mandate. The Huguenots
unanimously declined to sign the oath.

With the removal of the chancellor from the council the
party of Lorraine became triumphant, and it was determined
to seize the whole of the Huguenot leaders, who were quietly
residing upon their estates in distant parts of France. Gaspard
de Tavannes was charged with the arrest of Condé and the
Admiral; and fourteen companies of men-at-arms and as many
of infantry were placed under his orders, and these were quietly
and secretly marched to Noyers.

Fortunately Condé received warning just before the blow
was going to be struck. He was joined at Noyers by the
Admiral with his daughter and sons, and the wife and infant
son of D’Andelot. Condé himself had with him his wife and
children, They were joined by a few Huguenot noblemen from
the neighbourhood, and these with the servants of the prince
and Admiral formed an escort of about a hundred and fifty
horse. Escape seemed well-nigh hopeless. Tavannes’ troops
guarded most of the avenues of escape. There was no place ot
refuge save La Rochelle, several hundred miles away on the
other side of France. Every city was in the hands of their
foes, and their movements were encumbered with the presence
of women and young children.

There was but one thing in their favour—their enemies natu-
rally supposed that should they attempt to escape they would
do so in the direction of Germany, where they would be warmly
welcomed by the Protestant princes. Therefore it was upon
that line that the greatest vigilance would be displayed by their
enemies. Before starting Coligny sent off a very long and
eloquent protest to the king, defending himself for the step
that he was about to take, giving a history of the continuous
breaches of the treaty, and of the sufferings that had been in-
flicted upon the Huguenots, and denouncing the Cardinal of
Lorraine and his associates as the guilty causes of all the mis-
fortunes that had fallen upon France.

It was on the 23d of August that’ the party set out from
138 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

Noyers. Their march was prompt and rapid. Contrary to
expectation they discovered an unguarded ford across the Loire,
near the town of Laussonne. This ford was only passable when
the river was unusually low, and had therefore escaped the
vigilance of their foes. The weather had been for some time
dry, and they were enabled with much difficulty to effect a
crossing, a circumstance which was regarded by the Huguenots
as a special act of Providence, the more so as heavy rain fell the
moment they had crossed, and the river rose so rapidly that
when, a few hours later, the cavalry of Tavannes arrived in
pursuit they were unable to effect a passage.

The party had many other dangers and difficulties to en-
counter, but by extreme caution and rapidity of movement
they succeeded in baffling their foes and in making their way
across France.

On the evening of the 16th of September a watchman on
a tower of the chateau of Laville shouted to those in the
court-yard that he perceived a considerable body of horsemen
in the distance. A vigilant watch had been kept up for some
time, for an army had for some weeks been collected with the
ostensible motive of capturing Rochelle and compelling it to
receive a royal garrison; and as on its approach parties would
probably be sent out to capture and plunder the chateaux and
castles of the Huguenot nobles, everything had been prepared
for a siege. The alarm-bell. was at once rung to warn the
neighbourhood of approaching danger. ‘The vacancies caused
in the garrison during the war had been lately filled up, and
the gates were now closed and the walls manned, the countess
herself, accompanied by her son Philip, taking her place on
the tower by the gateway.

The party halted three or four hundred yards from the
gate, and then two gentlemen rode forward.

“The party look to me more like Huguenots than Catholics,
mother,” Frangois had said. “I see no banners; but their
dresses look sombre and dark, and I think that IT can see
women among them.”
THE THIRD HUGUENOT WAR. 139

A minute later Philip exclaimed, “Surely, Francois, those
gentlemen who are approaching are Condé and the Admiral?”

“Impossible!” the countess said; “they are in Burgundy,
full three hundred miles away.”

“Philip is right, mother,” Francois said eagerly. ‘I recog-
nize them now; they are, beyond doubt, the prince and Admiral
Coligny. Lower the drawbridge and open the gates,” he called
down to the warders.

The countess hastened down the stairs to the court-yard
followed by Francois and Philip, and received her two unex-
pected visitors as they rode across the drawbridge.

“Madame,” Condé said as he doffed his cap courteously, “ we
are fugitives who come to ask for a night’s shelter. I have my
wife and children with me, and the Admiral has also his family.
We have ridden across France from Noyers by devious roads
and with many turnings and windings, have been hunted like
rabid beasts, and are sorely in need of rest.”

“You are welcome indeed, prince,” the countess said. “I
esteem it a high honour to entertain such guests as yourself
and Admiral Coligny. Pray enter at once; my son will ride out
to welcome the princess and the rest of your party.”

Francois at once leapt on to a horse and galloped off, and in
a few minutes the party arrived. Their numbers had been
considerably increased since they left Noyers, as they had been
joined by many Huguenot gentlemen on the way, and they
now numbered nearly four hundred men.

“We have grown like a snowball since we started,” the
prince said, “and I am ashamed to invade your chateau with
such an army.”

“It is a great honour, prince. We had heard a rumour that
an attempt had been made to seize you and that you had
disappeared no one knew whither, and men thought that you
were directing your course towards Germany; but little did we
dream of seeing you here in the west.”

It was not until evening that the tale of the journey across
France with its many hazards and adventures was told, for the
140 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

countess was fully occupied in seeing to the comforts of her
guests of higher degree, while Francois saw that the men-at-
arms and others were bestowed as comfortably as might be.
Then oxen and sheep were killed, casks of wine broached,
forage issued for the horses; while messengers were. sent off to
the nearest farms for chicken and ducks, and with orders for
the women to come up to assist the domestics at the chateau
to meet this unexpected strain.

“Tt is good to sit down in peace and comfort again,” Condé
said, as, supper over, they strolled in the garden enjoying the
cool air of the evening. “This is the first halt that we have
made at any save small villages since we left Noyers. In the
first place our object was concealment, and in the second,
though many of our friends have invited us to their castles, we
would not expose them to the risk of destruction for having
shown us hospitality. Here, however, we have entered the
stronghold of our faith, for from this place to La Rochelle the
Huguenots can hold their own against their neighbours, and
need fear nothing save the approach of a large army, in which
case, countess, your plight could scarcely be worse for having
sheltered us. The royal commissioners of the province must
long have had your name down as the most stiff-necked of the
Huguenots of this corner of Poitou, as one who defies the
ordinances and maintains public worship in her chateau. Your
son and nephew fought at St. Denis, and you sent a troop
across France at the first signal to join me. The cup of your
offences is so full that this last drop can make but little dif-
ference one way or the other.”

“I should have felt it as a grievous slight had you passed near
Laville without halting here,” the countess said. “As for danger,
for the last twenty years we have been living in danger, and
indeed during the last year I have felt safer than ever; for now
that La Rochelle has declared for us, there is a place of refuge
for all of the reformed religion in the provinces round such as we
have not before possessed. During the last few months I have
sent most of my valuables in there for safety, and if the tide of
THE THIRD HUGUENOT WAR. 141

war comes this way, and I am threatened by a force against which
it would be hopeless to contend, I shall make my way thither.
But against anything short of an army I shall hold the chateau.
It forms a place of refuge to which, at the approach of danger,
all of our religion for many miles round would flock in, and as
long as there is a hope of successful resistance I would not
abandon them to the tender mercies of Anjou’s soldiers.”

“TI fear, countess,” the Admiral said, “that our arrival at
La Rochelle will bring trouble upon all the country round it.
We had no choice between that and exile. Had we consulted
our own peace and safety only we should have betaken our-
selves to Germany; but had we done that it would have been
a desertion of our brethren, who look to us for leading and
guidance. Here at La Rochelle we shall be in communication
with Navarre and Gascony, and doubt not that we shall ere very
long be again at the head of an army with which we can take
tho field even more strongly than before; for after the breaches
of the last treaty, and the fresh persecutions and murders
throughout the land, the Huguenots everywhere must clearly
perceive that there is no option between destruction and win-
ning our rights at the point of the sword. Nevertheless, as the
court will see that it is to their interest to strike at once before
we have had time to organize an army, I think it certain that
the whole Catholic forces will march without loss of time against
La Rochelle. Our only hope is that, as on the last occasion,
they will deceive themselves as to our strength. The evil
advisers of the king, when persuading him to issue fresh ordi-
nances against us, have assured him that with strong garrisons in
all the great towns in France, and with his army of Swiss and
Germans still on foot, we are altogether powerless, and are no
longer to be feared in the slightest degree. We know that
even now, while they deem us but a handful of fugitives, our
brethren throughout France will be everywhere banding them-
selves in arms. Before we left Noyers we sent out a summons
calling the Huguenots in all parts of France to take up arms
again. Their organization is perfect in every district. Our
142 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

brethren have appointed places where they are to assemble in
case of need; and by this time I doubt not that, although there
is no regular army yet in the field, there are scores of bands
ready to march as soon as they receive orders.

“It is true that the Catholics are far better prepared than
before. They have endeavoured by means of these leagues to
organize themselves in our manner; but there is one vital
difference. We know that we are fighting for our lives and
our faith, and that those who hang back run the risk of
massacre in their own homes. The Catholics have no such
impulse. Our persecutions have been the work of the mobs
in the towns excited by the priests, and these ruffians, though
ardent when it is a question of slaying defenceless women and
children, are contemptible in the field against our men. We
saw how the Parisians fled like a flock of sheep at St. Denis,
Thus, outnumbered as we are, methinks we shall take up
arms far more quickly than our foes, and that, except from
the troops of Anjou and the levies of the great Catholic nobles,
we shall have little to fear. Even in the towns the massacres
have ever been during what is called peace, and there was far
less persecution during the last two wars than in the intervals
between them.”

The next morning the prince and Admiral with their escort
rode on towards La Rochelle, which they entered on the
18th September. The countess with a hundred of her retainers
and tenants accompanied them on the ‘first day’s journey, and
returned the next day to the chateau. ;

The news of the escape, and the reports that the Huguenots
were arming, took the court by surprise, and a declaration was
at once published by the king guaranteeing his royal protec-
tion to all adherents of the reformed faith who stayed at home,
and promising a gracious hearing to their grievances. As soon,
however, as the Catholic forces began to assemble in large
numbers the mask of conciliation was thrown off, all edicts of
toleration were repealed, and the king prohibited his subjects
in all parts of his dominions of whatever rank from the exercise
THE THIRD HUGUENOT WAR. 143

of all religious rites other than those of the Catholic faith, on
pain of confiscation and death.

Nothing could have been more opportune for the Huguenot
leaders than this decree. It convinced even the most reluctant
that their only hope lay in resistance, and enabled Condé’s
agents at foreign courts to show that the King of France was
bent upon exterminating the reformed faith, and that its
adherents had been forced to take up arms in self-preservation.
The fanatical populations of the towns rejoiced in the new
decree, Leagues for the extermination of heresy were formed
in Toulouse and other towns under the name of Crusades, and
high masses were celebrated in the churches everywhere in
honour of the great victory over heresy.

The countess had offered to send her son with fifty men-at-
arms to swell the gathering at La Rochelle, but the Admiral
declined the offer. Niort was but a day’s march from the
chateau, and although its population were of mixed religion,
the Catholics might, under the influence of the present excite-
ment, march against Laville. He thought tit would be better,
therefore, that the chateau should be maintained with all its
fighting force as a centre to which the Huguenots of the neigh-
bourhood might rally.

“T think,” he said, “that you might for some time sustain a
siege against all the forces that could be brought from Niort,
and if you are attacked I will at once send a force from the city
to your assistance. I have no doubt that the Queen of Navarre
will join us, and that I shall be able to take the offensive very
shortly.”

Encouraged by the presence of the Admiral at La Rochelle,
the whole of the Huguenots of the district prepared to take
the field immediately. Laville was the natural centre, and
two hundred and fifty men were ready to gather there directly
an alarm was given. .

Three days later a man arrived at the chateau from Niort
soon after daybreak. He reported that on the previous day
the populace had massacred thirty or forty Huguenots, and
144 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

that all the rest they could lay hands on, amounting in num-
ber to nearly two hundred, had been dragged from their
homes and thrown into prison. He said that in all the villages
round, the priests were preaching the extermination of the
Huguenots, and it was feared that at any moment those of the
religion would be attacked there, especially as it was likely
that the populace of the town would flock out and themselves
undertake the work of massacre should the peasants, who had
hitherto lived on friendly terms with the Huguenots, hang back
from it.

“We must try to assist our brethren,” the countess said
when she heard the news. ‘Francois, take what force you can
get together in an hour and ride over towards Niort. You
will get there by mid-day. If these ruffians come out from
the town do you give them a lesson, and ride round to the
villages and bring off all of our religion there. Assure them
that they shall have protection here until the troubles are
over, or until matters so change that they can return safely to
their homes. We cannot sit quietly and hear of murder so
close at hand. I see no prospect of rescuing the unfortunates
from the prison at Niort, and it would be madness with our
small force to attack a walled city; but I leave you free to do
what may seem best to you, warning you only against under-
taking any desperate enterprise. Philip will of course ride
with you.”

‘Shall we ring the alarm-bell, mother?”

“No; it is better not to disturb the tenantry unless on very
grave occasion. Take the fifty men-at-arms, your own men,
and Philip’s, Sixty will be ample for dispersing disorderly
mobs, while a hundred would be of no use to you against the
armed forces of the town and the garrison of two hundred men.”

In a quarter of an hour the troop started. All knew the
errand on which they were bent, and the journey was per-
formed at the highest speed of which the horses were capable,

“They can have a good long rest when they get there,”
Francois said to Philip. “and half an hour earlier or later may
THE THIRD HUGUENOT WAR. 145

mean the saving or losing of fifty lives. The mob will have been
feasting and exulting over the slaying of so many Huguenots
until late last night, and will not be astir early this morning.
Probably too they will, before they think of sallying out, attend
the churches, where the priests will stir them up to fury before
they lead them out on a crusade into the country. I would
that we knew where they are likely to begin. There are a
dozen villages round the town.”

“What do you say to dividing our force, Francois? As we
near the town, you with one party could ride round to the left,
I with the other to the right, and searching each village as we
go, could join forces again on the other side of the town, If
Montpace had been with us, of course he would have taken the
command of one of the parties. It is unfortunate that he is
laid up with that wound he got at St. Denis.”

“Tam afraid he will never be fit for active service again,
Philip. But I am not sorry that he is not here. He might
have objected to our dividing the troop, and besides I am glad
that you should command, putting aside everything else. We
understand each other. You will, of course, cut down the
ruffians from the towns without mercy if you find them en-
gaged in massacre. If not, you will avarn the Huguenots of the
villages as you pass through to leave their homes at once and
make for Laville, giving a sharp intimation to the village maires
that if the Protestants are interfered with in any way, or hin-
dered from taking their goods and setting out, we will on our
return burn the village about their ears and hang up any who
have interfered with our people.”

“T should say, Francois, that we should take prisoners and
hold as hostages any citizens of importance, or priests, whom
we may find encouraging the townsfolk to massacre, T would
take the village priests, and maire too, so as to carry out the
same plan that acted so well at Toulouse. We could then
summon Niort, and say that unless the Huguenots in prison
are released, and they and all the Huguenots in the town

allowed to come out and join us, we will in the first place
“777 ) K
146 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

burn and destroy all the Catholic villages round the town,
and the pleasure-houses and gardens of the citizens, and that
in the second place we will carry off the prisoners in our hands
and hang them at once if we hear of a single Huguenot being
further ill-treated.”

“That would be a capital plan, Philip, if we could get hold
of anyone of real importance. It is likely some of the principal
citizens, and perhaps Catholic nobles of the neighbourhood, will
be with those who sally out, so that they can claim credit and
praise from the court party for their zeal in the cause. I wish
our parties had been a little stronger, for after we have entered
a village or two we shall have to look after the prisoners.”

“I do not think it matters, Frangois; a dozen stout men-
at-arms like ours would drive a mob of these wretches before
them. They will come out expecting to murder unresisting
people, and the sight of our men-at-arms in their white scarves
will set them off running like hares.”

“Let it be understood,” Philip continued, “that if when
one of us gets round to the other side of the town he should
not meet the other party, and can hear no tidings of it, he
shall gallop on till he meets it; for it is just possible, although
I think it unlikely, that one or other of us may meet with so
strong a party of the enemy as to be forced to stand on the
defensive until the other arrives.”

“T think there is little chance of that, Philip; still it as well
that we should make that arrangement.”

As they neared Niort they met several fugitives. From them
they learned that, so far, the townspeople had not come out, but
that the Catholics in the villages were boasting that an end
would be made of the Huguenots that day, and that many of
them were in consequence deserting their homes, and making
their escape as secretly as they could across the country. When
within two miles of Niort, a column of smoke was seen to
arise on the left of the town.

“They have begun the work!” Francois exclaimed. “ That
is my side!” and he placed himself at the head of half the troop,
THE THIRD HUGUENOT WAR. 147

giving them orders that they were to spare none whom they
found engaged in massacring Huguenots, save priests and other
persons acting as leaders. These were to be taken as hostages
for the safety of their brethren in the town. “You need not be
over-careful with them,” he said. “Throw a picket-rope round
their necks and make them trot beside you. They came out
for a little excitement, let them have enough of it.”

As Francois rode off one way, Philip led his party the other.

“You have heard these orders,” he said, “they will do for
you also.”

The first place they rode into they found the Catholic inha-
bitants in the streets, while the houses of the Huguenots were
closed and the shutters barred. The men fled as the troop
dashed in.

“Pursue them,” Philip cried, “and thrash them back with
the flat of your swords, but wound no one.”

Most of the men were soon brought back. By this time the
Huguenots had opened their doors, and with shouts of joy
were welcoming their deliverers.

“ TWave they threatened you with harm?” Philip asked.

“Yes; there has been mass in the church this morning, and
the priest has told them to prepare to join in the good work
as soon as the townspeople arrive.”

The priest had already been fetched from his house guarded
by two troopers. The maire was next pointed out and seized.
Two horses were brought out, and the prisoners placed on
them.

“Put a rope round each of their necks,” Philip ordered.
“Fasten it firmly.”

Two troopers took the other ends

“ Now you will come along with us,” Philip went on, “and if
you try to escape so much the worse for you. Now,” he said
to the villagers, “we shall return here shortly, and then woe
betide you if our orders are not executed. Every house in the
village shall be burned to the ground, every man we lay hold
of shall be hung. You will at once place every horse and cart
148 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

here at the disposal of your Huguenot brethren; you will assist
them to put their household goods in them, and will at once
start with them for Laville. Those who do go will be allowed
to return unharmed with their animals and carts. Eustace,
you will remain here with two men and see that this order
is carried out. Shoot down without hesitation any man
who murmurs. If there is any trouble whatever before our
return, the priest and the maire shall dangle from the church
tower.”

The next two villages they entered the same scene was
enacted. As they approached the fourth village they heard
cries and screams.

“Lower your lances, my friends. Forward!” And at a
gallop the little band dashed into the village.

It was full of people. Several bodies of men and women
lay in the road. Pistol-shots rang out here and there, showing
that some of the Huguenots were making a stout defence of
their homes. Through and through the crowd the horsemen
rode, those in front clearing their way with their lances, those
behind thrusting and cutting with their swords. The Catholics
were for the most part roughly armed. Some had pikes, some
had swords, others axes, choppers, or clubs, but none now thought
of defence. The arms that had been brought out for the work
of murder were thrown away, and there was no thought save
of flight. The doors of the Huguenot houses were thrown open,
and the men issuing out fell upon those who were just before
their assailants. Philip saw some horsemen and others col-
lected round a cross in the centre of the village, and calling
upon the men near him to follow, dashed forward and sur-
rounded the party before they apprehended the meaning of
this sudden tumult. Two or three of the men drew their
swords as if to resist, but seeing that their friends were com-
pletely routed, they surrendered. The party consisted of three
men, who were by their dresses persons of rank, four or five
citizens, also on horseback, four priests, and a dozen acolytes
with banners and censers.
THE THIRD HUGUENOT WAR. 149

“Tie their hands behind them,” Philip ordered. ‘Not the
boys; let them go.”

“T protest against this indignity,” one of the gentlemen said;
“JT am a nobleman.”

“Tf you were a prince of the blood, sir, and I found you
engaged in the massacre of innocent people, I would tie you
up and set you swinging from the nearest tree without com-
punction.”

Their arms were all tightly bound behind them.

“Would you touch a servant of the Lord?” the leading
priest said.

“Your clothing is that of a servant of the Lord,” Philip
replied; “‘but as I find you engaged upon the work of the
devil, I can only suppose that you have stolen the clothes.
Four of you take these priests behind you,” he said to his men;
“tie them tightly with their backs to yours, that will leave you
the use of your arms. Pierre, do you ride beside the other
prisoners, and if you see any attempt at escape shoot them at
once. Quick, my lads; there may be more of this work going
on ahead.”

He then gave similar instructions for the carriage of the
Huguenot goods as he had at the preceding places. At the
next village they were in time to prevent the work of mas-
sacre from commencing. priests, followed by a mob, were just entering it as they rode
up. The horsemen were overthrown by their onset, the mob
sent flying back towards the town, the Huguenots charging
almost up to the gates. The horsemen and priests were
made prisoners as before, and when the rest of the band
returned from their pursuit they again rode on. They had
now made half a circuit of Niort, and presently saw Francois
and his party galloping towards them.

“T had begun to be afraid that something had happened,”
Francois said as he rode up. “I waited a quarter of an hour
and then rode on, as we agreed. Well, I see you have got a
good batch of prisoners.”
150 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

“We have lost no time,” Philip said. “We have been
through five villages. At one we were just in time, for they
had begun the work of massacre before we got up; at another
we met them as they arrived; but at the other three, although
the villagers were prepared for the work, the townsmen had
not arrived.”

“There were only three villages on my side,” Francois said.
“At the first they had nearly finished their work before we
arrived. That was where we saw the smoke rising. But we
paid them for it handsomely, for we must have cut down more
than a hundred of the scoundrels. At one of the others the
Huguenots were defending themselves well, and there too we
gave the townspeople a lesson. At the third all was quiet.
We have taken six or eight burghers, as many gentlemen, and
ten priests.”

Philip told him the orders he had given for the Catholics to
place their horses and carts at the disposal of their Huguenot
fellow-villagers.

“T wish I had thought of it,” Frangois said. “But it is not
too late; I will ride back with my party and see all our friends
well on their way from the villages. I left four men at each
to keep the Catholics from interfering. If you will go back
the way you came we will meet again on the main road on the
other side of the town. I don’t think there is any fear of their
making a sortie, Our strength is sure to be greatly exaggerated,
and the fugitives pouring in from each side of the town with
their tales will spread a report that Condé himself, with a whole
host of horsemen, is around them.”

Philip found all going on well as he returned through the
villages, the scare being so great that none thought of disobey-
ing the orders, and in a couple of hours he rejoined Francois,
having seen the whole of the Huguenot population of the
villages well on their way.

‘‘ Now, Philip, we will go and summon the town. First of
all, though, let us get a complete list of the names of our pris-
oners,”
AN IMPORTANT MISSION. 151

These were all written down, and then the two leaders with
their eight men-at-arms rode towards the gates of Niort, a
white flag being raised on one of the lances.

CHAPTER IX.
AN IMPORTANT MISSION.

E have made an excellent haul,” Francois said, as, while
awaiting the answer to their signal, they looked down
the list of names. “Among the gentlemen are several connected
with some of the most important Catholic families of Poitou.
The more shame to them for being engaged in so rascally a
business; though when the court and the king, Lorraine and
the Guises, set the example of persecution, one can scarcely blame
the lesser gentry, who wish to ingratiate themselves with the
authorities, for doing the same. Of the citizens we have got one
of the magistrates, and four or five other prominent men, whom
I know by reputation as having been among the foremost to
stir up the people against the Huguenots. These fellows I
could hang up with pleasure, and would do so were it not that
we need them to exchange for our friends.

“Then we have got thirty priests. The names of two of
them I know as popular preachers, who, after the last peace
was made, denounced the king and his mother as Ahab and
Jezebel for making terms with us. They, too, were it not for
their sacred office, I could string up without having any weight
upon my conscience. Ah! there is the white flag, let us ride
forward.”

The gates remained closed, and they rode up to within a
hundred yards of them. In a few minutes several persons
made their appearance on the wall over the gateway, and they
then advanced to within twenty paces of the gate.

Then one from the wall said: “I am John De Luc, royal
152 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

commissioner of this town, this is the reverend bishop of the
town, this is the maire, and these the magistrates; to whom
am I speaking?”

“T am the Count F rangois de Laville,” Francois replied;
“and I now represent the gentlemen who have come hither,
with a large body of troops, to protect those of our faith from
persecution and massacre. We arrived too late to save all,
but not to punish, as the ruffians of your town have learned
to their cost. Some two or three hundred of them came
out to slay and have been slain. The following persons are
in our hands,” and he read the list of the prisoners. “I now
give you notice that, unless within one hour of the present
time, all those of the reformed faith whom you have thrown
into prison, together with all others who wish to leave, are
permitted to issue from this gate free and unharmed, and
carrying with them what portion of their worldly goods they
may wish to take, I will hang up the whole of the prisoners in
my hands—gentlemen, citizens, and priests—to the trees of
that wood a quarter of a mile away. Let it be understood
that the terms are to be carried out to the letter. Proclama-
tion must be made through your streets that all of the reformed
faith are free to depart, taking with them their wives and
families, and such valuables and goods as they may choose. I
shall question those who come out, and if I find that any have
been detained against their will, or if the news has not been so
proclaimed that all can take advantage of it, I shall not release
the prisoners. If these terms are not accepted, my officers
will first hang the prisoners, then they will ravage the country
round, and will then proceed to besiege the city, and when
they capture it, take vengeance for the innocent blood: that
has been shed within its walls. You best know what is the
strength of your garrison, and whether you can successfully
resist an assault by the troops of the Admiral. I will give you
ten minutes to deliberate. Unless by the end of that time
you accept the conditions offered, it will go hard with those in
our hands.”
AN IMPORTANT MISSION. 153

“Impious youth,” the bishop, who was in full pontificals,
said, “you would never dare to hang priests.”

“As the gentlemen of your party have thought it no sin to
put to death scores of our ministers, and as I found these most
holy persons hounding on a mob to massacre, I shall certainly
feel no compunction whatever in executing the orders of my
leader, to hang them with the other malefactors,” Francois
replied; “and methinks that you will benefit these holy men
more by advising those with you to agree to the conditions
which I offer than by wasting your breath in controversy with me.”

There was a hasty conversation between those on the wall,
and it was not long before they came to an agreement, De
Luc feared that he should incur the enmity of several powerful
families if he left their relatives for execution. The citizens
were equally anxious to save their fellows, and were, moreover,
scared at the threat of the neighbourhood being laid waste and
the town attacked by this unknown force that had appeared
before it. They had heard vague rumours of the arrival of the
prince and Admiral with a large force at La Rochelle, but it
might well be that he had turned aside on his journey at the
news of the occurrences at Niort.

The bishop was equally anxious to rescue the priests, for he
felt that he might be blamed for their death by his ecclesiastical
superiors. Their consultation over, de Luc turned to the
Count.

“Do you give me your solemn assurance and word as a noble
of France that upon our performing our part of the condition
the prisoners in your hands shall be restored unharmed 2”

“T do,” Frangois replied. “I pledge my honour, that as
soon as I find that the whole of those of our religion have left
the town peaceably, the prisoners shall be permitted to return
unharmed in any way.”

“Then we accept the terms. All those of the reformed
religion in the town, whether at present in prison or in their
homes, who may desire to leave, will be permitted to pass. As
soon as you retire the gate shall be opened.”
154 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

Francois and his party fell back a quarter of amile. Ina
short time people began to issue in twos and threes from the
gate. Many bore heavy bundles on their backs, and were
accompanied by women and children all similarly laden. A
few had with them carts piled up with household goods.
From the first who came Francois learned that the conditions
had been carried out, the proclamation being made in every
street at the sound of the trumpet that all who held the re-
formed religion were free to depart, and that they might take
with them such goods as they could carry or take in carts.

At first it had been thought that this was but a trap to get
the Huguenots to reveal themselves, but the reports of those
who had returned discomfited to the town that there was a great
Huguenot force outside, and that many people of consideration
had been taken prisoners, gave them courage, and some of the
leading citizens went round to every house where persons
suspected of being Huguenots were living, to urge them to
leave, telling them that a treaty had been made securing them
their safety. Before the hour had passed more than five
hundred men, women, and children had left the town. As all
agreed that no impediment had been placed in their way, but
that upon the contrary every person even suspected as having
Huguenot leanings had been urged to go, Francois and Philip
felt assured that at any rate all who wished to leave had had
the opportunity of doing so. They waited ten minutes over
the hour, and then seeing that no more came forth they
ordered the prisoners to be unbound and allowed to depart for
the city.

As the fugitives had come along they were told that the
Prince of Condé with a strong force had entered La Rochelle,
and were advised to make for that city, where they would find
safety and welcome. Those, however, who preferred to go
to Laville, were assured that they would be welcomed and
cared for there until an opportunity arose for their being sent
under escort to La Rochelle. The greater portion decided to
make at once for the Huguenot city.
AN IMPORTANT MISSION. 155

“T think, Philip, you had better take forty of the men to
act as a rear-guard to these poor people till you are within
sight of La Rochelle. The fellows whom we have let free will
tell on their return to the town that we are but a small party,
and it is possible they may send out parties in pursuit.”

“T don’t think it is likely; the townspeople have been too
roughly handled to care about running any risks. They have
no very large body of men-at-arms in the town. Still, if they
do pursue, it will be by the road to La Rochelle, for that is the
one they will think that most of the fugitives will take. Had
we not better divide the troop equally, Francois?”

“No, I think not. They will imagine we shall all be going
by that road, and that, moreover, some of the other gentlemen
of our faith may be coming to meet us with their retainers.
Twenty will be ample for me, do you take the rest.”

Two hours later Philip saw a cloud of dust rising from the
road in his rear. He hurried on with the fugitives in front
of him until, half an hour later, they came to a bridge over a
stream. This was only wide enough for four horsemen to cross
abreast, and here he took up his station. In a few minutes
a number of horsemen approached. They were riding without
order or regularity, intent only on overtaking their prey.
Seeing the disorder in which they came Philip advanced from
the bridge, formed up his men in two lines, and then charged
at full gallop. The men-at-arms tried to rein in their horses
and form in order, but before they could do so the Huguenots
burst down upon them. The horses of the Catholics, exhausted
with the speed at which they had been ridden, were unable to
withstand the shock, and they and their riders went down
before it. A panic seized those in the rear, and turning quickly
they fled in all directions, leaving some thirty of their number
dead on the ground. Philip would not permit his followers
to pursue. :

“They outnumber us four times,” he said, “and if we scatter
they may turn and fall upon us. Our horses have done a long
day’s work, and deserve rest. We will halt here at the bridge.
156 ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S EVE.

They are not likely to disturb us, but if they do we can make
a stout resistance here. Do you ride on, Jacques, and tell the
fugitives that they can press forward as far as they like, and
then halt for the night. We will take care that they are not
molested, and will ride on and overtake them in the morning.”

The night passed quietly, and late the following evening the
party were in sight of La Rochelle. Philip had intended to
turn at this point, where all danger to the fugitives was over,
and to start on his journey back. But the hour was late, and
he would have found it difficult to obtain food and forage with-
out pressing the horses. He therefore determined to pass the
night at La Rochelle, as he could take the last news thence back
to Laville.

The streets of the town presented a busy aspect; parties of
Huguenot gentlemen and their retainers were constantly arriv-
ing, and fugitive villagers had come in from a wide extent of
country.

Large numbers of men were working at the walls of the
town; the harbour was full of small craft; lines of carts
brought in provisions from the surrounding country, and large
numbers of oxen, sheep, and goats were being driven in.

“As we shall start for Laville in the morning,” Philip said
to his men, “it is not worth while to trouble to get quarters;
and, indeed, I should say from the appearance of the place
that every house is already crowded from basement to roof.
Therefore we will bivouac down by the shore, where I see
there are many companies already bestowed.”

As soon as they had picketed their horses a party were
sent off to purchase provisions for the troop and forage for
their horses, and when he had seen that the arrangements
were complete, Philip told Pierre to follow him, and went up
to the castle, where Condé and Coligny with their families
were lodged.

He was greeted warmly by several of the gentlemen who
had stopped at the chateau a few days before. The story of
the fugitives from Niort had already spread through the town,
AN IMPORTANT MISSION. 157

and Philip was eagerly questioned about it. Just as he was
about to tell the story, Condé and the Admiral came out from an
inner room into the large ante-room where they’ were talking.

“Ah! here is the young count’s cousin, Monsieur Fletcher,”
the Admiral said; “now we shall hear about this affair of Niort,
of which we have received half a dozen different versions in
the last hour. Is the count himself here?”

“No, sir; he returned to Laville, escorting the fugitives who
went thither, while he sent me with the larger portion of the
troop to protect the passage hither of the main body.”

“But it was reported to me that the troop with which you
entered was but forty strong. I hear you fought a battle on
the way; did you lose many men there?”

“None, sir. Indeed I am glad to say, that beyond a few
trifling wounds the whole matter has been carried out without
any loss to the party that rode from Laville.”

“How strong were they altogether, monsieur?”

“Sixty, sir.” é

“Then where did you join the force that, as we hear, cut
up the townspeople of Niort as they were massacring our
people in the villages round, and afterwards obtained from the
town the freedom of those who had been cast into prison, and
permission for all Huguenots to leave the town?”

“There was no other force, sir; we had just the sixty men
from Laville, commanded by my cousin Francois. When the
news arrived of the doings at Niort there was no time to send
round to gather our friends, so we mounted the men-at-arms
at the chateau and rode with all speed, and were but just in
time. Had we delayed another half-hour to gather a larger
force we should have been too late.”

“Tell us all about it,” the prince said. “This seems to
have been a gallant and well-managed affair, Admiral.”

Philip related the whole circumstances of the affair; how
the townspeople had been heavily punished and the chief men
taken as hostages, and the peasants compelled to assist to con-
vey the property of the Huguenots to Laville; also the sub-
158 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

sequent negotiations and the escape of all the Huguenots from
Niort, and how the troop under him had smartly repulsed, with
the loss of over thirty men, the men-at-arms from the city.

“A gallant enterprise,” the prince said. ‘ What think you,
Admiral?”

“T think, indeed, that this young gentleman and his cousin,
the young Count of Laville, have shown singular prudence and
forethought, as well as courage. The matter could not have
been better managed had it been planned by any of our oldest
heads. That they should at the head of their little bodies of
men-at-arms have dispersed the cowardly mob of Niort, is
what we may believe that any brave gentleman would have
done; but their device of taking the priests and the other
leaders as hostages, their boldness in summoning the autho-
rities of Niort under the threat of hanging the hostages and
capturing the town, is indeed most excellent and commendable.
I heard that the number of fugitives from Niort was nearly
six hundred, and besides these there were, I suppose, those
from the villages.”

“ About two hundred set out from the villages, sir.”

‘“‘Kight hundred souls. You hear that, gentlemen; eight
hundred souls have been rescued from torture and death by the
bravery and prudence of these two young gentlemen, who are
in years but youths. Let it be a lesson to us all of what can
be done by men engaged in a good work, and placing their
trust in God. There is not one of us but might have felt
proud to have been the means of doing so great and good a
work with so small a force, and to have saved eight hundred
lives without the loss of a single one, to say nothing of the
sharp lesson given to the city mobs that the work of massacre
may sometimes recoil upon those who undertake it, Our good
friend De la Notie has more than once spoken very highly
to the prince and myself respecting the young count and this
young English gentleman, and they certainly have more than
borne out his commendations.”

“And more than that,” the prince put in, “I myself in no
AN IMPORTANT MISSION. 159

small degree owe my life to them; for when I was pinned
down by my horse at St. Denis they were among the foremost
of those who rushed to my rescue. Busy as I was I had time
to mark well how stoutly and valiantly they fought. More-
over, Monsieur D’Arblay ‘has spoken to me in the highest terms
of both of them, but especially of Monsieur Fletcher, who, as
he declared, saved his life and that of the Count de Laville by
obtaining their release from the dungeons of Toulouse by some
such device as that he has used at Niort. And now, gentle-
men, supper is served. Let us go in at once; we must have
already tried the patience of our good hosts, who are doing
their best to entertain us right royally, and whom I hope to
relieve of part of the burden in a very few days. Monsieur
Fletcher, you shall sit between the Admiral and myself, for you
have told us your story but briefly, and afterwards I would
fain question you farther as to that affair at Toulouse.”

The two nobles, indeed, inquired very minutely into all the
incidents of the fight. By closely questioning him they learned
that the idea of forcing the peasants to lend their horses and
carts to convey the Huguenot villagers’ goods to Laville was
his own, and occurred to him just as he was about to start
from the first village he entered.

“The success of military operations,” the Admiral said, “de-
pends greatly upon details. It is one thing to lay out a general
plan, another to think amid the bustle and excitement of action
of the details, upon which success so largely depends; and your
thought of making the men who were about to join in the
slaughter of their fellow villagers the means of conveying their
goods and chattels to a place of safety is one that shows that
your head is cool, and able to think and plan in moments
when most men would be carried away by the excitement of
the occasion. Iam pleased with you, sir, and shall feel that
if I have any matter on hand demanding discretion and pru-
dence, as well as bravery, I can, in spite of your years, con-
fidently intrust you with it. Are you thinking of returning
to-morrow to Laville?”
160 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“TI was intending to do so, sir. It may be that the people
of Niort may endeavour to revenge the stroke that we have
dealt them, and the forty men with me are necessary for the
defence of the chateau.”

“I do not think there is any fear of an attack from Niort,”
the Admiral said. “They will know well enough that our
people are flocking here from all parts, and will be thinking
of defence rather than of attack, knowing that while we are
almost within striking distance the royal army is not in a con-
dition as yet to march from Paris. Where are you resting for
the night?”

“‘ My troops are down by the shore, sir. Seeing how full the
town was I thought it was not worth while to look for quar-
ters, and intended to sleep down there among them, in readi-
ness for an early start.”

“Then after supper I would that you go down to them and
tell them not to be surprised if you do not join them till morn-
ing, then return hither for the night; it may be that we may
want to speak to you again.”

Late in the evening a page came to Philip, and saying that
the prince wished to speak with him, conducted him to a small
apartment, where he found Condé and the Admiral,

“We have a mission with which we would intrust you, if
you are willing to undertake it,” the Admiral said; “it is a
dangerous one, and demands prudence and resource, as well as
courage. It seems to the prince and myself that you possess
these qualities, and your youth may enable you to carry out
the mission perhaps more easily than another would do. It is
no less than to carry a letter from the prince and myself to
the Queen of Navarre. She is at present at Nérac, Agents
of Catharine have been trying to persuade her to go with her
son to Paris, but fortunately she discovered that there was a
plot to seize her and the young prince her son at the same time
that we were to be entrapped in Burgundy. De Lossy, who was
charged with the mission of seizing her at Tarbes, was fortu-
nately taken ill, and she has made her way safely up to Nérae.
AN IMPORTANT MISSION 161

“All Guyenne swarms with her enemies. D’Escars and
four thousand Catholics lie scattered along from Perigueux to
Bordeaux, and other bands lie between Perigueux and Tulle.
If once past those dangers her course is barred at Angouléme,
Cognac, and Saintes. I want her to know that I will meet
her on the Charente. I do not say that I shall be able to take
those three towns, but I will besiege them; and she will find me
outside one of them if I cannot get inside. It is all important
that she should know this, so that she may judge whither to
direct her course, when once safely across the river Dronne
and out of Guyenne.

“T dare not send a written despatch, for were it to fall into
the hands of the Catholics they would at once strengthen the
garrisons of the town on the Charente, and would keep so keen
a watch in that direction that it would be impossible for the
queen to pass. I will give you a ring, a gift from the queen
herself, in token that you are my messenger, and that she can
place every confidence in you. I will leave to you the choice
of how you will proceed. You can take some of your men-at-
arms with you, and try to make your way through with a sudden
dash; but as the bridges and fords will be strongly watched, I
think that it will be much wiser for you to go in disguise,
either with or without a companion. Certainty is of more
importance than speed. I found a communication here, sent
by the queen before she started, to the authorities of the town,
saying that she should try to make her way to them, and she
knew that the prince and myself would also come here if we
found our personal safety menaced in Burgundy.

“She foresaw that her difficulties would be great, and re-
quested that if we arrived here we would send her word as to
our movements, in order that she might accommodate hers to
them. I have chosen you for several reasons, one being, as I
have told you, that I see you are quick at forming a judgment
and cool in danger. The second is that you will not be known
to any of the enemy whom you may meet on your way. Most

of the Huguenots here come from the neighbouring provinces.
(777) L
162 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

and would almost certainly be recognized by Catholics from
the same neighbourhood. Of course you understand that if
suspicion should fall upon you of being a messenger from this
place, you will have but a short shrift.” '

“T am quite ready to do my best, sir, to carry out your
mission. Personally I would rather ride fast with half a dozen
men-at-arms; but, doubtless, as you say, the other would be the
surest way. I will take with me my servant, who is shrewd
and full of resources, and, being a native of these parts, could
pass as a countryman anywhere. My horses and my four men
I will leave here until my return. The troop will of course
start in the morning for Laville.”

“We have another destination for them,” the prince said,
“A messenger rode yesterday to Laville, to bid the young
count start the day after to-morrow with every man he can
raise to join me before Niort, for which place I set out to-
morrow at mid-day. Of course we had no idea that he had
already come to blows with that city, but we resolved to make
its capture our first enterprise, seeing that it blocks the principal
road from Paris hither, and is indeed a natural outpost of La
Rochelle. Niort taken, we shall push on and capture Parthenay,
which still further blocks the road, and whose possession will
keep a door open for our friends from Brittany, Normandy,
and the north. When those places are secured and garrisoned,
we can then set about clearing out the Catholics from the
towns to the south.”

“Very well, sir. Then I will give orders to them that they
are to accompany your force to-morrow, and join the count
before Niort.”

“Here is a large map of the country you will have to
traverse. You had best take it into the next room and study
it carefully, especially the course and direction of the rivers
and the points of crossing. It would be shorter, perhaps, if
you could have gone by boat south to Arcachon and thence
made your way to Nérac; but there are wide dunes to be
crossed, and pine-forests to be traversed, where a stranger might
AN IMPORTANT MISSION. 163

well die of hunger and thirst; the people too are wild and
savage, and look upon strangers with great suspicion, and
would probably have no compunction in cutting your throat.
Moreover, the Catholics have a flotilla at the mouth of the
Gironde, and there would be difficulty and danger in passing.

“You will, of course, make all speed that you can. I shall
presently see some of the council of the town, and if they tell
me that a boat can take you down the coast as far as the Seudre,
some ten miles north of the mouth of the Gironde, you will
avoid the difficulty of crossing the Boutonne at St. Jean d’Angely,
and the Charente at Saintes or Cognac. It would save you a
quarter of your journey. I expect them shortly, so that by
the time you have studied the map I shall be able to tell you
more.”

An hour later Philip was again summoned. To his surprise
he found Maitre Bertram with the prince.

‘Our good friend here tells me that he is already acquainted
with you, Monsieur Fletcher. He will house you for to-night,
and at daybreak put you on board a small coasting-vessel,
which will carry you down to the mouth of the Seudre. He
will also procure for you whatever disguises you may require
for yourself and your attendant. He has relations with traders
in many of the towns, Some of these are openly of our faith,
others are time-servers, or are not yet sufficiently convinced to
dare persecution and death for its sake. He will give you the
names of some of these, and you may at a push be able to find
shelter with them, obtain a guide, or receive other assistance,
Here is the ring. Hide it carefully on the way, for were you
searched a ring of this value would be considered a proof that
you were not what you seemed. You quite understand my
message. I pray the queen to trust to no promises, but using
all care to avoid those who would stop her, to come north as
speedily as possible before the toils close round her; and you
will assure her that she will find me on the Charente, and that
I shall have either taken Cognac or be occupied in besieging it,”

“Tf I fail, sir, it shall be from no lack of prudence on my
164 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

part, and I hope to prove myself worthy of the high honour
that the prince and yourself have done me in selecting me for
the mission.”

“Farewell then,” the Admiral said. “I trust that in ten
days’ time I shall meet you at Cognac. I have arranged with
Mattre Bertram, who will furnish you with the funds necessary
for your expedition.”

Philip bowed deeply to the two nobles, and retired with the
merchant. He had directed Pierre to remain among the lackeys
at the foot of the grand staircase, as he would be required pre-
sently, and as he passed through he beckoned to him to follow.

“You have seen my horses comfortably stabled, Pierre?”

“Tt was done an hour since, monsieur.”

“And my four men understand that they are to remain here
in charge of them until I return?”

“Yes, sir. Their own horses are also bestowed here, and
mine.”

“Very well. We sleep to-night at Maitre Bertram’s.”

“T am right glad to hear it, sir; for truly this castle is full
from the top to the bottom, and I love not to sleep in a crowd.”

“You still have Pierre with you?” the merchant said.

“Yes; and he has turned out an excellent servant. It was
a fortunate day for me when I insisted on taking him in spite
of your warning. He is a merry varlet, and yet knows when
to joke and when to hold his peace. He is an excellent forager,”
—“Ah! that I warrant he is,” Maitre Bertram put in,—‘“and
can cook a dinner or a supper with any man in the army. I
would not part with him on any consideration.”

“A fellow of that sort, Master Fletcher, is sure to turn out
either a rogue or a handy fellow. I am glad to hear that he
has proved the latter. Here we are at the house. At ordinary
times we should all be abed and asleep at this hour, but the
place is turned upside down since the prince and the Admiral
arrived; for every citizen has taken in as many men as his house
will hold. I have four gentlemen and twenty of their retainers
lodging here; but I will take you to my own den, where we can
AN IMPORTANT MISSION. 165.

talk undisturbed, for there is much to say and to arrange as to
this expedition of yours, in which there is more peril than I
should like to encounter. However, that is your affair. You
have undertaken it, and there is nought for me to do save to try
and make it as successful as possible. You have already been
studying the map, I hear, and know something of the route.
T have a good map myself, and we will follow the way togethez
upon it. It would be as well to see whether your rascal knows
anything of the country. In some of his wanderings he may
have gone south.”

“T will question him,” Philip said; and reopening the door
of the room he told Pierre, whom he had bidden follow him
upstairs, to enter. “I am going down into Gascony, Pierre; it
matters not at present upon what venture. Iam going to start
to-morrow at daylight in a craft of Maitre Bertram’s, which
will land me ten miles this side the mouth of the Gironde, by
which, as you will see, I avoid having to cross the Charente,
where the bridges are all in the hands of the Catholics, Iam
going in disguise, and I propose taking you with me.”

“It is all one to me, sir. Where you go Iam ready to follow
you. I have been at Bordeaux, but no farther south. I don’t
know whether you think that three would be too many. Your
men are all Gascons, and one or other of them might know
the part of the country you wish to travel.”

“I had not thought of it,” Philip said; “but the idea is a
good one. It would depend greatly upon our disguises.”

‘Do you travel as a man-at-arms, or as a countryman, or a
pedlar, or maybe as a priest, sir?”

‘Not as a priest, assuredly,” Philip laughed. “TI am too
young for that.”

“Too young to be in full orders, but not too young to bea
theological student: one going from a theological seminary at
Bordeaux to be initiated at Perigueux, or further south to
Agen.”

Philip shook his head. “I should be found out by the first
priest who questioned me.”
166 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“Then, sir, we might go with sacks of ware on our backs as’
travelling pedlars; or, on the other hand, we might be on our
way to take service under the Catholic leaders. If so we
might carry steel caps and swords, which methinks would suit
you better than either a priest’s cowl or a pedlar’s pack. In
that case there might well be three of us, or even four. Two
of your men-at-arms would go as old soldiers, and you and
I as young relations of theirs, anxious to turn our hands to
soldiering. Once in Gascony their dialect would help us rarely,
and our story should pass without difficulty; and even on the
way it would not be without its use, for the story that they
have been living near La Rochelle, but owing to the concourse
of Huguenots could no longer stay there, and were therefore
making south to see in the first place their friends at home and
then to take service under some Catholic lord, would sound
likely enough.”

“T don’t know that we can contrive a better scheme than
that, Maitre Bertram. What do you think?”

“It promises well,” the trader agreed. ‘Do you know what
part of Gascony these men come from, Pierre?”

“They come from near Dax.”

“That matters little,” Philip said, “seeing that it is only to
the south of Guyenne that we are bound. Still, they will pro-
bably have traversed the province often, and in any case there
should be no trouble in finding our way, seeing that Agen lies
on the Garonne, and we shall only have to keep near the river
all the way from the point where we are landed. Our great
difficulty will be in crossing the Dordogne, the Dronne, and
the Lot, all of which we are likely to find guarded.”

“If you can manage to cross the Garonne here, near Langon,”
the merchant said, placing his finger on the map, “you would
avoid the two last rivers, and by keeping west of Bazas you
would be able to reach Nerac without difficulty. You have to
cross somewhere, and it might be as easy there as at Agen.”

“That is so,” Philip agreed; “at any rate we will try there
first. I don’t know which of the men I had best take with
AN IMPORTANT MISSION. 167

me. They are all shrewd fellows, as Gascons generally are, so
[ don’t know how to make my choice.”

“T don’t think there is much difference, sir,” Pierre said.
“JT have seen enough of them to know at least that they are
all honest fellows.”

“T would let them decide the matter for themselves,” Philip
said. “Some might like to go, and some to stay behind. If
I chose two the others might consider themselves slighted.
Do you know where they have bestowed themselves, Pierre?”

“Down in the stables with the horses, sir. I could pretty
well put my hand on them in the dark.”

“Well, go and fetch them hither, then. Say nothing about
the business on which they are required.”

In a quarter of an hour Pierre returned with the four men.
Philip explained to them briefly that he wanted two of them
to journey with him on a mission of some danger through
Guyenne.

“T have sent for you all,” he said, “in order that you might
arrange among yourselves which two shall go; therefore do
you settle the matter, and if you cannot agree then‘ cast lots
and leave it to fortune. Only, as you are two sets of brothers,
these had best either go or stay together; therefore if you cast
lots do it not singly, but two against two.”

“We may as well do it at once, Monsieur Philip,” Eustace
said. “I know beforehand that we would all choose to follow
you; therefore if you will put two papers into my steel cap,
one with my name, and one with Jacques’, Pierre shall draw.
If he takes out the one with my name, then I and Henri will
go with you; if he draws Jacques, then he and Roger shall go.”

This was done, and Jacques and Roger won.

“You will have plenty to do while we are away,” Philip
said to Eustace. ‘There will be seven horses to look after,
including my chargers.”

‘How long are you likely to be away, sir?”

“T may return in ten days, I may be away three weeks.
Should any evil chance befall us you will take the horses over
168 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

to Laville, and hand them over to my cousin, who will, I am
sure, gladly take you and Henri into his service. As we leave
here at daybreak, you, Jacques, and your brother Roger had
better wrap yourselves up in your cloaks and lie down in the hall
below. I would that we could in the morning procure clothes
for you, older and more worn than those you have on. You
are going as men who have formerly served, but have since been
living: in a village tilling the land, just as you were when you
first joined me.”

“Then we have the very clothes ready to hand,” Jacques
said. “When we joined you we left ours with a friend in the
town to hold for us. There is no saying how long military
service may last, and as our clothes were serviceable we laid
them by. We can go round and get them the first thing in
the morning, leaving these we wear in his care until we return.”

“That will do well; but you must be up early, for it is
important we should make our start as soon as possible.”

“JT also have my old clothes held in keeping for me by one
who worked in the stable with me,” Pierre said. “A man
who is going to the war can always find others ready to take
charge of whatever he may leave behind, knowing full well
that the chances are that he will never return to claim them.”

“That simplifies matters,” Maitre Bertram said. “There
remains only your dress, Monsieur Philip; and I shall have no
difficulty in getting from my own knaves a doublet, cloak, and
other things to suit you. I have plenty of steel caps and
swords in my warehouse.”

“You had best leave your breast-pieces here,” Philip said to
the men; ‘the number of those who carry them is small, and
it will be enough to have steel caps and swords. We are
going to walk fast and far, and the less weight we carry the
better.”


PHILIP AND HIS FOLLOWERS EMBARKING,
THE QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 169

CHAPTER X.
THE QUEEN OF NAVARRE.

HE sun had just risen, when Mattre Bertram, accompanied
by four men in the attire of peasants, went down to
the port. Two of them wore steel caps, and had the appear-
ance of discharged soldiers, the other two looked like fresh
countrymen, and wore the low caps in use by the peasantry
on their heads, carrying steel caps slung by cords from their
shoulder; all four had swords stuck into their leathern belts.
Similar groups might have been seen in hundreds all over
France, making their way to join the forces of the contending
parties. The craft upon which the trader led them was a
small one of four or five tons burden, manned by three men
and a boy.

“You understand, Johan, if you meet with no interruption
you will land your passengers at the mouth of the Seudre; but
if you should come across any of the craft that have been
hovering about the coast, and find that they are too fast for
you, put them ashore wherever they may direct. If you are
too hotly chased to escape after landing them, you had best
also disembark and make your way back by land as best
you can, leaving them to do what they will with the boat.
As like as not they would cut your throats did they take you,
and if not, would want to know whom you had landed and
other matters. I do not want to lose the craft, which has
done me good service in her time, and is a handy little coaster,
but I would rather lose it than that you should fall into the
hands of the Bordeaux boats and get into trouble. The fact
that you made for shore to land passengers would be sufficient
to show that those passengers were of some importance. Now
good luck to you, Master Philip; I trust to see you back here
again before long.”

They kept straight out from La Rochelle to the Isle of
170 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

Oléron, and held along close to its shore, lest boats coming
out from the Charente might overhaul them. From the
southern end of the island it was only a run of some eight
miles into the mouth of the Seudre. A brisk wind had blown,
and they made the forty miles voyage in seven hours. They
could see several white sails far to the south as they ran in,
but had met with nothing to disquiet them on the way. They
were rowed ashore in the little boat the craft carried, and
landed among some sand-hills, among which they at once
struck off and walked briskly for a mile inland, so as to avoid
any questionings from persons they might meet as to where
they had come from. Jacques and his brother carried bags
slung over their shoulders, and in these was a store of food
with which the merchant had provided them, and two or three
flasks of good wine, so that they might make a day’s journey
at least without having to stop to purchase food.

It was two o’clock when they landed, and they had therefore
some five hours of daylight, and before this had faded they
had passed Royan, situated on the Gironde. They did not
approach the town, but keeping behind it came down upon
the road running along the shore three miles beyond it, and
walked along it until about ten o’clock, by which time all were
thoroughly tired with their unaccustomed exercise. Leaving
the road, they found a sheltered spot among the sand-hills, ate
a hearty meal, and then lay down to sleep. They were afoot
again at daylight. The country was sparsely populated. They
passed through a few small villages, but no place of any im-
portance, until, late in the afternoon, they approached Blaye,
after a long day’s tramp. As they thought that here they
might learn something of the movements of the large body of
Catholic troops Philip had heard of as guarding the passages
of the Dordogne, they determined to enter the town. They
passed through the gates half an hour before they were closed,
and entered a small cabaret. Here, calling for some bread
and common wine, they sat down in a corner, and listened to
the talk of the men who were drinking there. It was all
THE QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 171

about the movements of troops, and the scraps. of news that
had come in from all quarters.

“I don’t know who they can be all arming against,” one said.
“The Queen of Navarre has no troops, and even if a few
hundreds of Huguenots joined her, what could she do? As to
Condé and the Admiral, they have been hunted all over France
ever since they left Noyers. They say they hadn't fifty men
with them. It seems to me they aro making a great fuss about
nothing.”

“T have just heard a report,” a man who had two or three
minutes before entered the room, said, “to the effect that they
arrived four days since at La Rochelle, with some five or six
hundred men who joined them on the way.”

An exclamation of surprise broke from his hearers.

“Then we shall have trouble,” one exclaimed. “La Ro-
chelle is a hard nut to crack in itself, and if the prince and the
Admiral have got in the Huguenots from all the country round
will rally there, and may give a good deal of trouble after all.
What can the Catholic lords have been about that they man-
aged to let them slip through their hands in that way? They
must have seen for some time that they were making for the
one place where they would be safe, unless indeed they were
making down for Navarre. That would account for the way
in which all the bridges and fords across the rivers are being
watched,”

“I expect they are watching both ways,” another said.
“These Huguenots always seem to know what is going on, and it
is likely enough, that while our people all thought that Condé
was making for Germany, there was not a Huguenot through-
out France who did not know he was coming west to La
Rochelle, and if so, they will be moving in all directions to join
him there, and that is why D’Escars has got such a force at
all the bridges. I heard from a man who came in yesterday
that the Lot is watched just as sharply from the Garonne through
Cahors right on to Espalion, and he had heard that at Agen and
along the Aveyron the troops hold the bridges and fords as if
172 ST, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

they expected an enemy. No doubt, as soon as they hear that
Condé and his party are in La Rochelle they will close round
them and catch them in a trap. That will be as good as any
other way, and save much trouble. It is a long chase to catch
a pack of wolves scattered all over the country, but one can
make short work of them all when you get them penned up in
an inclosure.”

Philip cast a warning glance at his companions, for he felt
so inclined to retort himself that he feared they might give
way to a similar impulse. Jacques and his brother, however,
were munching their bread stolidly, while Pierre was looking
at the speaker with a face so full of admiring assent to his
remark that Philip had to struggle hard to repress a laugh.

“Tt must be owned,” another of the group said, “that these
wolves bite hard. I was in Paris last year with the Count de
Caussac. Well, we laughed when we saw the three parties of
white wolves ride out from St. Denis; but I tell you there was
no laughing when they got among us. We were in the Con-
stable’s troop, and though, as far as I know, we were all pretty
stout men-at-arms, and were four to one against them at least,
we had little to boast of when the fight was over. At any rate,
I got a mark of the wolves’ teeth, which has put a stop to my
hunting, as you see,” and he held out his arm. “TI left my
right hand on the field of battle. It was in the fight round
Condé. A young Huguenot—for he was smooth-faced, and
but a youth—shred it off with a sweeping back-handed blow
as if it had been a twig. So there is no more wolf-hunting for
me; but even if I had my right hand back again I should not
care for any more such rough sport as that.”

Philip congratulated himself that he was sitting with his
back to the speaker, for he remembered the incident well, and
it was his arm that had struck the blow. His visor had been
up, but as his face was shaded by the helmet and cheek-picces,
and the man could have obtained but a passing glance at him,
he felt sure on reflection that he would not be recognized.

‘Ah! well, we shall do better this time,” the first speaker
THE QUEEN OF NAVARRE, 173

said. “ We are better prepared than we were then, and except
La Rochelle and four or five small towns, every place in France
is in our hands. I expect the next news will be that the prince
and Coligny and the others have taken ship for England.
Then when that pestilent Queen of Navarre and her boy are
in our hands the whole thing will be over, and the last edict
will be carried out, and each Huguenot will have the choice
between the mass and the gallows. Well, I will have one more
stoup of wine, and then I will be off, for we march at daybreak.”

‘How many ride out with you?” the man who had lost his
hand asked.

“A hundred, The town has voted the funds, and we march
to join D’Escars to-morrow. I believe we are not going to
Perigueux, but are to be stationed somewhere on the lower
Dordogne to prevent any of the Huguenots from the south
making their way towards La Rochelle.”

The frequenters of the cabaret presently dropped off. Jacques,
who acted as spokesman, had on entering asked the landlord
if they could sleep there, and he said there was plenty of good
hay in the loft over the stable. As his duties were now over,
he came across to them.

“Which way are you going, lads?” he asked. “Are you
bound like the others to join one of the lords on the Dordogne?”

“No,” Jacques said, “we are bound for Agen. We come
from near there.”

“TI thought your tongue had a smack of Gascon in it.” ;

“Yes, we come from across the border. We are tired of
hard work in the vineyards, and are going to take up with our
own trade, for my comrade here and I served under De Brissac
in Italy; we would rather enlist under our own lord than under
a stranger.”

“Yes, that I can understand,” the landlord said; “but you
will find it no easy work travelling at present, when every
bridge and ford across the rivers is watched by armed men,
and all who pass are questioned sharply as to their business.”

“Well, if they won’t let us pass,” Jacques said carelessly,
174 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE

“we must join some leader here; though I should like to have
had a few days at home first.”

“Your best plan would have been to have gone by boat to
Bordeaux. There has been a strong wind from the west for the
last three days, and it would save you many a mile of weary
tramping.”

“That it would,” Jacques said; “but could one get a pas-
sage?”

“There will be no difficulty about that. There is not a day
passes, now that the wind is fair, that three or four boats do
not go off to Bordeaux with produce from the farms and vine-
yards. Of course you wouldn’t get up without paying; but I
suppose you are not without something in your pockets. There
is a cousin of mine, a farmer, who is starting in the morning,
and has chartered a boat to carry his produce. If I say a word
to him I have no doubt he would give the four of you a passage
for a crown.”

“What do you say, comrades?” Jacques said. “It would
save us some thirty or forty miles walking, and perhaps some
expense for ferrys, to say nought of trouble with the troops,
who are apt enough moreover to search the pockets of those
who pass.”

“T think it would be a good plan,” his brother replied; and
the other two also assented.

“Very well then,” the landlord said; “my cousin will be
here in the morning, for he is going to leave two or three
barrels of last year’s vintage with me. By the way, I daresay
he will be easy with you as to the passage-money, if you agree
to help him carry up his barrels to the magasins of the mer-
chant he deals with, and aid him with his other goods. It
will save him from having to employ men there, and those
porters of Bordeaux know how to charge pretty high for their
services. I will make you up a basket for your journey. Shall
I say a bottle of wine each and some bread, and a couple of
dozen eggs, which I will get boiled hard for you?”

“That will do well, landlord,” Jacques said, “and we thank
THE QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 175

you for having put us in the way of saving our legs to-morrow.
What time do you think your cousin will be in?”

“He will have his carts at the gates by the time they open
them. He is not one to waste time ; besides, every minute is
of importance; for with this wind he may well hope to arrive
at Bordeaux in time to get his cargo discharged by nightfall.” *

“That was a lucky stroke indeed,” Philip said when they
had gained the loft, and the landlord, having hung up a lantern,
had left them alone. “Half our difficulties will be over when
we get to Bordeaux, I had began to fear, from what we heard
of the watch they are keeping at the bridges, that we should
have found it a very difficult matter crossing the rivers. Once
out of Bordeaux the Ciron is the only stream we shall have
to cross, and that is but a small river, and is not likely to be
watched, for no one making his way from the south to La
Rochelle would keep to the west of the Garonne,”

They were downstairs by six, had a meal of bread and spiced
wine, and soon after seven there was a rumble of carts outside,
and two of them stopped at the cabaret. They were laden
principally with barrels of wine ; but in one the farmer’s wife
was sitting surrounded by baskets of eggs, fowls, and ducks,
and several casks of butter. Three of the casks of wine were
taken down and carried into the house. The landlord had a
chat apart with his cousin, who then came forward to where
they were sitting at a table.

‘My cousin tells me you want to go to Bordeaux, and are
willing to help load my boat, and to carry the barrels to the
warehouse at Bordeaux in return for a passage. Well, I agree
to the bargain; the warehouse is not very far from the wharf,
but the men there charge an extortionate price.”

“We will do your work,” J acques said.

‘But how am I to know that when you land you will not
slip away without fulfilling your share of the bargain?” the
farmer asked. “You look honest fellows, but soldiers are not
gentry to be always depended upon. I mean no offence, but
business is business, you know.”
176 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

Jacques put his hand in his pocket. “Here is a crown,” he
said. ‘I will hand it over to you as earnest; if we do not do
your work, you can keep that to pay the hire of the men to
carry your barrels.”

“That is fair enough,” the farmer said, pocketing the coin.
“Now let us go without delay.”

The landlord had already been paid for the supper of the night
before, the lodging, and the contents of the basket, and with-
out more words they set out with the cart to the river side.
Here the boat was in waiting, and they at once set to work
with the drivers of the two carts to transfer their contents to
it. As they were as anxious as the farmer that no time should
be lost, they worked hard, and in a quarter of an hour all was
on board. They took their places in the bow, the farmer, his
wife, and the two boatmen being separated from them by the
pile of barrels. The sail was at once hoisted, and as the west
wind was still blowing strongly Blaye was soon left behind.

“This is better than walking by a long way,” Philip said.
“We are out of practice, and my feet are tender from the
tramp from the coast. It would have taken us two days to
get to Bordeaux even if we had no trouble in crossing the
Dordogne, and every hour is of importance. I hope we may
get out of the city before the gates close, then we shall be able
to push on all night.”

They passed several islands on their way, and after four
hours’ run saw the walls and spires of Bourg, where the Dor-
dogne unites with the Garonne to form the great estuary
known as the Gironde. At three o’clock they were alongside
the wharves of Bordeaux. They stowed away their steel caps
and swords, and at once prepared to carry up the barrels.

“Do you make an excuse to move off, master,” Pierre said;
“we three will soon get these barrels into the store, and it is
no fitting work for you.”

“Honest work is fitting work, Pierre; and methinks that
my shoulders are stronger than yours. I have had my sail,
and I am going to pay for it by my share of the work.”
THE QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 177

The store was nearer than Philip had expected to find it,
A wide road ran along by the river bank, and upon the other
side of this was a line of low warehouses, all occupied by the
wine merchants, who purchased the produce of their vineyards
from the growers, and, after keeping it until it matured, sup-
plied France and foreign countries with it. Several ships lay
by the wharves. Some were bound for England, others for
Holland; some were freighted for the northern ports of France,
and some of smaller size for Paris itself. Several men came up
to offer their services as soon as the boat was alongside; and
these, when they saw that the owner of the wines had brought
men with them who would transport the wine to the ware-
houses, indulged in some rough jeers before moving away. In
the first place Philip and his companions, aided by the boat-
men, carried the cargo ashore, while the farmer crossed the
road to the merchant with whom he dealt. His store was not
more than fifty yards from the place of landing, and as soon
as he returned the work began. In an hour and a half the
whole of the barrels were carried over. The farmer’s wife had
seen to the carriage of her portion of the cargo to the inn her
husband frequented on these occasions. It was close to the
market-place, and there she would, as soon as the market
opened in the morning, dispose of them, and by nine o’clock
they would be on board again. When the last barrel was car-
ried into the store, the farmer handed Jacques the crown he
had taken as pledge for the performance of the bargain.

“You are smart fellows,” he said, “‘and nimble. The same
number of these towns-fellows would have taken double the
time that you have done, and I must have had six at least to
have got the wine safely stored before nightfall.”

“We are well contented with our bargain,” Jacques said;
“it is better to work hard for two hours than to walk for two
days. So good-day to you, master, for we shall get on our way
at once, and do not want to spend our money in the wine-shops
here.”

Possessing themselves of their steel caps and swords again,
(777) M
178 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

they made their way through the busy town to the south gates,
through which a stream of peasants with carts, horses, and
donkeys was passing out, having disposed of the produce they
had brought in.

“Where are you bound to, you two with steel caps?” the
officer at the gate asked.

Jacques and his brother paused, while Philip and Pierre,
who had stowed their caps in the bundles they carried, went
on without stopping, as it had previously been agreed that in
case of one or more of his followers being stopped, Philip
should continue his way, as it was urgent that he should not
suffer anything to delay him in the delivery of his message. He
waited, however, a quarter of a mile from the gates, and the
two men then rejoined him.

“We had no difficulty, sir,” Jacques said. ‘We said that
we once had served and were going to do so again, having
grown sick working in the vineyards, and that we had come
up from Blaye with a cargo of wine and had taken our dis-
charge, and were now bound for Agen to see our families before
joining the force that the Viscount de Rouillac, under whom
our father held a farm, would no doubt be putting in the field.
That was sufficient, and he let us go on without further question,
except that he said that we should have done better by going
up to Saintes or Cognac and taking service with the force
there, instead of making this long journey up to Agen.”

They walked steadily on until, when it was nearly midnight,
they arrived at a small village on the banks of the Ciron. As
the inhabitants would have been in bed hours before, they
made up their minds not to attempt to find a shelter there,
but to cross by the bridge and sleep in the first clump of trees
they came to. As they approached the bridge, however, they
saw a fire burning in the centre of the road. Two men were
sitting beside it, and several others lay round.

“Soldiers!” Philip said. “It would not do to try to cross
at this time of night. We will retire beyond the village and
wait until morning.”
fod

THE QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 179

They turned off into a vineyard as soon as they were out-
side the village and lay down among the vines that had some
weeks before been cleared of their grapes.

“How far does this river run before it becomes fordable,
Jacques ?”

“T do not know, sir. There are hills run along in a line
with the Garonne some ten or twelve miles back, and I should
say that when we get there we shall certainly find points at
which we might cross this stream.”

“That would waste nearly a day, and time is too precious
for that. We will go straight on in the morning. Our story
has been good enough thus far, there is no reason why it should
not carry us through.”

Accordingly, as soon as the sun was up they entered the
village and went into a cabaret and called for wine and
bread.

“You are travelling early,” the landlord said.

“Yes, we have a long tramp before us, so we thought we
had better perform part of it before breakfast.”

“These are busy times; folks are passing through one way
or the other all day. It is not for us innkeepers to grumble,
but peace and quiet are all we want about here; these constant
wars and troubles are our ruin. The growers are all afraid to
send their wine to market, for many of these armed bands are
no better than brigands, and think much more of robbing and
plundering than they do of fighting. I suppose by your looks
you are going to take service with some lord or other?”

Jacques repeated the usual tale.

“Well, well, every man to his liking,” the landlord said;
“but for my part I can’t think what Frenchmen want to fly at
each others’ throats for. We have got thirty soldiers quartered in
the village now, though what they are doing here is more than
Ican imagine. We shall be glad when they are gone, for they
are a rough lot, and their leader gives himself as many airs as
if he had conquered the place. I believe they belong to a force
that is lying at Bazas, some five leagues away. One would think
180 ST, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

that the Queen of Navarre had got a big Huguenot army to-
gether and was marching north.”

“T should not think she could raise an army,” Philip said
carelessly; “and if she is wise she will stop quietly down in
Béarn.”

“There is a rumour here,” the landlord said, “that she is at
Nérac, with only a small party of gentlemen, and that she is on
her way to Paris to assure the king that she has no part in
these troubles. I don’t know whether that has anything to do
with the troops, who, as I hear, are swarming all over the
country. They say that there are fifteen hundred men at
Agen.”

“T am afraid we shall have trouble at this bridge,” Philip
said, as the landlord left them; “they seem to be a rough lot,
and this truculent lieutenant may not be satisfied with a story
that his betters would accept without question. ‘We will ask
our host if there is any place where the river can be forded
without going too far up. We can all swim, and as the river
is no great width we can make a shift to get across even if the
ford is a bad one.”

The landlord presently returned. Jacques put the question:
“By your account of those fellows at the bridge, we might
have trouble with them?”

“As like as not,” the landlord said; “they worry and vex
all who come past, insult quiet people, and have seized several
who have happened to have no papers of domicile about them
and sent them off to Bazas. They killed a man who resented
their rough usage two days ago. There has been a talk in the
village of sending a complaint of their conduct to the officer at
Bazas; but perhaps he might do nothing, and if he didn’t it
would only make it the worse for us here.”

“We don’t want troubles,” Jacques said, “and therefore if
we could pass the river without having to make too wide a
detour we would do so. Do you know of any fords?”

“Yes, there are two or three places where it can be crossed
when the water is low, and as there has been no rain for some
THE QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 181

weeks past you will be able to cross now easily enough. There
is one four miles higher up. You will see a clump of willow-
trees on this side of the river, and there is a pile of stones some
five feet high on the other. You enter the river close by the
trees and then keep straight for the pile of stones, which is
some fifty yards higher up, for the ford crosses the river at an
angle.”

“Well, we will take that way then,” Jacques said; “it is
better to lose an hour than to have trouble here.”

An hour later the party arrived at the ford and crossed it
without difficulty, the water being little above their waists.
Some miles farther they saw ahead of them the towers of
Bazas, and struck off from the road they were traversing to
pass to the east of it. They presently came upon a wide
road.

“This must be the road to Nérac,” Philip said. “There are
neither rivers nor places of any size to be passed now, the only
danger is from bodies of horse watching the road.”

“And if I mistake not, sir, there is one of them approaching
now,” Pierre said, pointing ahead. As he spoke the heads and
shoulders of a body of horsemen were seen as they rode up from
a dip the road made into a hollow, half a mile away. Philip
glanced round. The country was flat, and it was too late to
think of concealment.

‘‘ We will go quietly on,” he said. ‘We must hope they will
not interfere with us.”

The troop consisted of some twenty men, two gentlemen
riding at their head, and as they came up they checked their
horses.

‘“‘Whither come you, and where are you bound, my men?”

“We come from Bordeaux, sir, and we are bound for Agen,”
Jacques replied. “My comrade and I served under De Brissac
when we were mere lads, and we have a fancy to try the old
trade again; and our young cousins also want to try their metal.”

“You are a Gascon, by your tongue?”

“That is so,” Jacques said; “and it is for that reason we are
182 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

going south. We would rather fight in a company of our own
people than with strangers.”

“ Whom have you been serving at Bordeaux? I am from the
city, and know most of those in and round it.”

“We have not been working there, sir. We come from near
Blaye, and made the journey thence to Bordeaux by a boat
with our master, Jacques Blazin, who was bringing to Bordeaux
a cargo of his wines.”

“Why waste time, Raoul?” the other gentleman said im-
patiently. “What matter if they came from Bordeaux or Blaye,
these are not of those whom we are here to arrest. Anyhow
they are not Huguenot lords, but look what they say they are;
but whether men-at-arms or peasants they concern us not.
Maybe while we are questioning them a party of those we are
in search of may be traversing some other road. Let us be
riding forward.”

He roughly pricked his horse with his spur, and the troop
rode on.

“T think you are wrong to be so impatient, Louis,” the one
who had acted as interrogator said. “Anyone could see with
half an eye that those two fellows were, as they said, old
men-at-arms. There is a straightness and a stiffness about
men who have been under the hands of the drill-sergeant there
is no mistaking, and I could swear that fellow is a Gascon as
he said. But I am not so sure as to one of the young
fellows with them. I was about to question him when you
broke in. He did not look to me like a young peasant, and I
should not be at all surprised if he is some Huguenot gentle-
man making his way to Nérac with three of his followers.”

“ Well, if it was so, Raoul, he will not swell the queen’s
army to any dangerous extent. J am glad that you didn’t ask
him any questions, for if he declared himself a Huguenot, and
to do them justice the Huguenots will never deny their faith,
I suppose it would have been our duty to have fallen upon them
and slaughtered them; and though I am willing enough to draw
when numbers are nearly equal and it is a fair fight, I will
THE QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 183

take no part in the slaughter of men when we are twenty to
one against them. Three or four men more or less at Nérac
will make no difference. The Queen of Navarre has but some
fifty men in all, and whenever the orders come to seize her and
her son, it may be done easily enough whether she has fifty or
a hundred with her. War is all well enough, Raoul, but the
slaughtering of solitary men is not an occupation that suits me.
Tam a good Catholic, I hope, but I abhor these massacres of
defenceless people only because they want to worship in their
own way. I look to the pope as the head of my religion on
earth, but why should I treat as a mortal enemy a man who
floes not recognize the pope’s authority 2”

“That is dangerous doctrine, Louis.”

“Yes, but why should it be? You and I were both at the
colloquy at Poissy, and we saw that the Cardinal of Lorraine
and all the bishops failed totally to answer the arguments of the
Huguenot minister Beza. The matter was utterly beyond me,
and had Beza argued ten times as strongly as he did it would in
no way have shaken my faith; but I contend that if Lorraine
himself and the bishops could not show this man to be wrong,
there can be nothing in these people’s interpretation of Scrip-
ture that can be so terrible as to deserve death. If they be-
come dangerous to the state, I am ready to fight against them
as against any other enemies of France, but I can see nothing
that can excuse the persecutions and massacres. And if these
men be enemies of France, of which as yet no proof has been
shown, it is because they have been driven to it by persecution.”

“Louis, my cousin,” the other said, “it is dangerous, indeed,
in these days to form an opinion. You must remember our
greatest statesman, L’Hopital, has fallen into some disgrace, and
has been deprived of rank and dignity, because he has been an
advocate of toleration.”

“I know that, Raoul; but I also know there are numbers
of our nobles and gentlemen, who, although staunch Catholics,
are sickened at seeing the king acting as the tool of Philip of
Spain and the pope, and who shudder as I do at beholding
184 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

France stained with blood from end to end simply because
people choose to worship God in their own way. You must
remember that these people are not the ignorant scum of our
towns, but that among them are a large number of our best
and wisest heads. I shall fight no less staunchly when fight-
ing has to be done because I am convinced that it is all wrong.
If they are in arms against the king, I must be in arms for him ‘
but I hope none the less that when arms are laid down there
will be a cessation of persecution, at anyrate a cessation of
massacre. It is bringing disgrace on us in the eyes of all
Europe, and I trust that there may be a league made among
us to withstand the Guises, and to insist that there shall be
in France no repetition of the atrocities by which Philip of
Spain and the Duke of Alva are trying to stamp out the re-
formed religion in the Netherlands.”

“Well, I hope at anyrate, Louis,” his cousin said impatiently,
“that you will keep these opinions to yourself, for assuredly
they will bring you into disgrace, and may even cost you your
possessions and your head if they are uttered in the presence
of any friend of the Guises.”

CHAPTER XI.
JEANNE OF NAVARRE.

T is lucky,” Philip said to Jacques as they proceeded on their
way after the troop had ridden on, “that he did not think

of asking us if we were Huguenots.”

“I was expecting it myself, sir,” Jacques said; “and I was
just turning it over in my conscience how I could answer.”

“There could be but one answer, Jacques, though no doubt
it would have cost us our lives.

“T should not deny my faith, even to save my life, sir, if the
question were put to me, Are you a Huguenot? But I think
JEANNE OF NAVARRE. 185

that when four lives are at stake it is lawful to take any open-
ing there may be to get out of it.”

“But how would there have been an opening, Jacques?”

“Well, sir, you see, if he had asked, ‘Are you Huguenots?’ I
think I could have said ‘No’ with a clear conscience, seeing
that you are an Englishman; your religion may be like ours
but you are not a Huguenot, and although Pierre does not
seem to me to have quite made up his mind as to what he is,
assuredly I should not call him a Huguenot. So you see, sir,
that as only two out of the four are Huguenots, there would
have been no lie to my saying ‘no’ to that question. But if
he had said ‘Are you Catholics?’ I must have answered ‘No,’
seeing that none of us go to mass.”

“It isa nice question,” Philip said; “but seeing that the
Catholics never keep their oaths and their promises to what
they call heretics, I think that one would be justified, not in
telling a lie, for nothing can justify that, but in availing one’s
self of a loophole such as one would scorn to use to others.
I should be sorry to have the question asked me, though seeing
I am not myself a Huguenot, although I am fighting with
them, I think that I could reply ‘no,’ especially as it is not a
question of my own life only, but one involving the whole
cause of the Huguenots. If I were in your place I don’t know
that I should do so; but as you say that you could do it with-
out your conscience pricking you, I certainly should not put
pressure upon you to say yes. However, I hope you may
never be asked the question, and that we shall meet with no
more interruptions until we get to Nérac. There can be little
doubt that at present the Catholics have received no orders to
seize the queen and her son at Nérac, although they have orders
to prevent her at all costs from going forward to Paris except
under escort, and are keeping a sharp look-out to prevent
her from being joined by parties of Huguenots who would
render her force formidable. I should hope that by this time
we are past the last of their bands. Those we met just now
doubtless belonged to the force gathered in Bazas, and it is in
186 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

the direction of the north rather than the west that the Catho-
lics are most vigilant. If she succeeds in making her way
through them, it will be well-nigh a miracle. Now that we are
well past Bazas we will leave the road and make our way
across the fields, for it is upon the roads that any watch there
may be will be set.”

It was a long day’s journey, and at eight o’clock in the
evening they lay down in a wood ten miles from Nérac, having
walked fully fifty miles since crossing the river Ciron.

“T am very glad, Monsieur Philip, that we were not here
four hours earlier.”

“Why, Pierre?”

“ Because, sir, in that case you would have insisted on push-
ing on to Nérac so as to enter it before the gate is closed, and
in that case I doubt whether with the best will I could have
got that far, and I am sure that Jacques and Roger could not
have done so.”

“No, indeed,” Jacques said, “I have done my last inch.
For the last four hours I felt as if walking upon hot irons, so
sore are my feet; and indeed I could not have travelled at all
if I had not taken your advice and gone barefoot.”

They had bought some wine and bread in a little village
through which they had passed, and as soon as they had finished
their supper they lay down to sleep. They were up next morn-
ing long before daybreak, and were at the gates of Nérac before
they opened. A group of countrymen were gathered there,
and as soon as the drawbridge was lowered they entered the
town with them. They observed that there were sentries all
round the walls, and that a keen watch was kept. As Philip
was aware, the majority of the inhabitants there were Huguenots,
and the governor was a nobleman of Béarn; and it was doubt-
less for this reason that the Queen of Navarre had halted there,
as Nérac was a strong town, and not to be taken without a
regular siege.

They had no difficulty in ascertaining where the queen was
lodged. Tarly as it was, several Huguenot gentlemen, armed
JEANNE OF NAVARRE. 187

to the teeth, were gathered round the door. Philip, leaving
his companions behind him, went up to the group, and addres-
sing one of them said:

“T am the bearer of a message for the queen; it is important.
May I pray you, sir, to cause this ring to be conveyed to her.
It is a token that she will recognize.”

The gentleman glanced at the ring.

“She may well do that,” he said, “seeing that it bears her
own cognizance. The queen is already up, and I will cause it
to be sent in to her at once.”

Two minutes later another gentleman came out.

“Her majesty will at once see the messenger who has brought
the ring,” he said, and Philip at once followed him into the
house. He was conducted to a room, where a lady was sitting,
whom he recognized by the descriptions he had read of her as
the Queen of Navarre. Beside her stood a lad of fifteen.

“You come from the Admiral?” she said. ‘Have you
despatches for me?”

“T have a paper sewn up in my boot, your majesty, but it
was read over to me several times in case either water or wear
should render it illegible.”

“He has reached La Rochelle safely, as I heard three days
since,” the queen said, “with but a small following?”

“He and the prince had over five hundred with them when
they rode in, your majesty, and parties were arriving hourly to
swell his force. On the day I left he was going out to attack
Niort, and that captured he was going to move south. That
was the message I was charged to deliver. You will find him
either in Cognac or in front of that town.”

“That is good news, indeed,” the queen said, “for I should
have had to make a wide detour to pass round the Charente, all
the towns and bridges being held by our enemies. It will be
difficult enough to cross the intervening rivers. Indeed as the
news that I had started hence would arrive long before I did
myself, it would be hopeless to elude their vigilance, and I should
have had to make along bend to the east, and might well have
188 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

been cut off before I could reach him. And who are you, sir,
that the Admiral should think fit to intrust so important a
message to you?”

“Tam English born, madam, and my name is Philip Fletcher.
My mother was French, being the daughter of the Count de
Moulins, and she sent me over to reside with her sister the
Countess of Laville, in order that I might fight for the cause of
the religion by the side of my cousin Francois. I rode with him
through the last campaign in the train of Francois de la Noiie,
and having had the good fortune to attract the notice of the
Prince of Condé and the Admiral, they selected me to bear this
message to you, thinking that, being but a lad, I should better
escape suspicion and question than a French gentleman would
do, especially as he would risk being recognized, while my face
would be altogether unknown. Now, if your majesty will per-
mit me, I will open the lining of my shoe. You will find,
however, that the despatch contains but a few words. At first
the Admiral thought only to give me a message, but he after-
wards wrote what he had said, in order that should any evil
befall me by the way, one of the three men who accompanied
me should take my shoe and bring it to your majesty.”

By this time he had slit open the lining of his shoe with his
knife, and handed the little piece of paper to the queen. It
contained only the words,

“All goes well. Am hoping to see you. You will find me in or
near Cognac.”

There was no signature,

“You have done good service to the cause, Monsieur Fletcher,”
the queen said. “How did you manage to pass south, for I
hear that every bridge and ford is guarded by the Catholics?”

Philip gave a brief account of his journey.

“You have acted prudently and well, young sir, and fully
justified the Admiral’s confidence in your prudence. What are
your orders now?”

“They are simply to accompany your majesty on your way
north, if it be your pleasure to permit me to ride in your train,”
JEANNE OF NAVARRE. 189

“T shall do that right willingly, sir, and it will be a plea-
sure for my son to hear from your lips a full account of your
journey hither, and something of your native land, in which it
may be that he will be some day compelled to take refuge.”

“You shall ride by my side, Monsieur Philip,” the young
prince said. “You look as if you could laugh and joke. These
Huguenot lords are brave and faithful, but they have ever
serious faces.”

“Hush, Henri! it is not fitting to speak so. They are brave
and good men.”

“They may be that, mother, but they weary me dreadfully ;
and I am sure it would be much more cheerful having this
English gentleman as my companion.”

The young prince was tall for his age, active and sinewy.
His mother had brought him up as if he had been a peasant
boy. Asa child he had run about barefoot, and as he grew
had spent much of his time among the mountains, sometimes
with shepherds, sometimes engaged in the chase. Jeanne her-
self had a horror of the corruption of the French court, and
strove to make her son hardy and robust, with simple tastes and
appetites, and preferring exercise, hard work, and hunter's food
to the life of the town. He had practised constantly in arms,
and his mother regretted nothing so much as the fact that,
next to the king and his brothers, he stood in succession to the
French throne, and would have been far happier that he should
rule some day over the simple and hardy people of Navarre.

“The first thing to do, Monsieur Fletcher,” the queen said,
“ig to obtain more suitable garments for yourself and your
followers. This my chamberlain shall see about without delay.
I will then present you to the gentlemen who accompany me.
They are but a small party, but we have received promises
from many others, who will jom us on our way. I may tell
you it is already arranged that I shall set forward this evening.
Monsieur D’Escars has, I hear, some four thousand gentlemen
under arms; but these are widely scattered, and I hope to
have a sufficient force to overcome them at any point we may
190 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

make for. Some friends have secretly collected two or three
boats near Tonneins, where there is but a small part of the
Catholics assembled. Once past the Garonne we shall feel safe
for a time.”

“Would it please you that I should ride on first to Tonneins,
your majesty, and ascertain if the garrison there are not alert,
and have no suspicion that you are about to cross so close to
them? Being a stranger here I could pass unsuspected, while
were any of the gentlemen with you seen near Tonneins it
would create suspicion that you yourself were about to cross
in the neighbourhood.”

“I thank you for that offer,” the queen said, “and will speak
to you about it later on.”

As Philip had been furnished with money he did not trouble
the queen’s chamberlain, but at once purchased clothes for
himself and his three followers, together with breast and back
piece for Jacques and Roger. On his return to the queen after
an hour’s absence, he was informed that Prince Henri had
made inquiries for him, and was shown into a room where the
young prince was sitting down to his breakfast, the queen
being engaged in business with some of her councillors,

“That is right, Monsieur Fletcher; I have been waiting
breakfast for you for half an hour. Come, sit you down with
me. I warrant you have been too busy since you arrived at
Nérac to think of a meal.”

“I don’t think, Prince,” Philip began, “that it would be
seemly that J—’

“Nonsense,” the prince interrupted, “we are not at the
court of France, thank goodness, and we have no ceremony at
Béarn. Besides, a simple gentleman may dine with the king
any day, So sit down without any more delay, and let'me hear
all your adventures.”

Philip still hesitated, and the prince said:

“T told my mother that I was going to have you to break-
fast with me, and I believe she was well satisfied that I should
for a time be out of her way.”
JEANNE OF NAVARRE. 191

This removed any doubt from Philip’s mind, and he at once
sat down with the prince and ate a hearty meal, after which
he chatted with him for an hour, telling him about the journey
from La Rochelle, the rescue of the Huguenots near Niort, and
some of the adventures in the last wav.

“And you were with my cousin Condé and the Admiral in
the battle of St. Denis. What luck you have had, Monsieur
Fletcher; I hope the day will come when I too shall take a part
in war and be a great leader like the Admiral, but I would rather
that it was against Spaniards or others than against Frenchmen.”

The door opened and the queen entered. Philip rose hastily,
but she motioned him to be seated. ‘No ceremony, I beg
of you, Master Philip. I am glad to find you here with my
son. I have spoken to some of my friends of your offer to go
to Tonneins, but they think not well of it. It is a small place,
and a stranger would be sure to be questioned, but it was
agreed that if you would ride through Agen you might do us
great service. Five leagues from Tonneins, Fontarailles, the
seneschal of Armagnac, will be waiting for me in the morning
with a troop of horse and a regiment of infantry. If the
governor of Agen has news of his coming he may send out a
force to attack him, or should he not feel strong enough for
that, he may at least think that I am intending to join the
seneschal, and in that case he may send out troops to bar the
roads leading thither from the river. As many will be passing
through Agen on their way to join D’Escars, the passage of a
gentleman and two men-at-arms will excite no attention, and
if you put up for a short time at an inn you may be able to
gather whether there has been any movement of the troops,
or whether there is any talk of the departure of any this even-
ing. Should all be quiet you can join me on the road, or ride
direct to the village of Villeneuve @’Agenois, where the seneschal
will arrive some time to-night. If you should hear of any move-
ments of troops ride down on the other side of the river till
within two miles of Tonneins, then, if you place your men at
intervals of three or four hundred yards apart, you will be sure
192 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

to see us cross, and can give us warning of danger, and such
indications as you may gather as to the points where the troops
are likely to be posted. We shall cross about midnight.”

“T will gladly undertake the mission,” Philip said. “I will
go out and procure some horses at once.”

“That is unnecessary,” the queen said; ‘we have brought
several spare horses with us, and I have already ordered four
to be saddled for you. You have no armour, I see.”

“J would rather ride without it, your majesty, especially on
such a mission as the present; besides, if in full armour I
might well be accosted and asked to whose party I belong,
while riding in as I am unarmed, save for my sword, I should
have the air of a gentleman of the neighbourhood, who had
merely ridden in on business or to learn the latest news.”

The queen smiled approvingly.

“You see, Henri, this gentleman, although about to under-
take a dangerous business, does not proceed rashly or hastily,
but thinks coolly as to the most prudent course to pursue.
You will understand, Monsieur Fletcher, that several of the
gentlemen with me have volunteered for this duty, and that we
have accepted your offer solely because they could scarcely
enter Agen without meeting some who know them, while you,
being a stranger, do not run this risk.”

“Moreover, madam, I have another advantage. Were any
of them questioned, and asked directly, Are you a Huguenot?
they could not but answer yes; whereas were that question
put to me I could reply no, seeing that I am an English
Protestant, and in no way, save in my sympathies, a Huguenot.”

“That is an advantage, certainly; but it may be the ques-
tion will be put, Are you a Catholic?”

“In that case, your majesty, I could only reply ‘no;’ but
methinks the other question is the most likely one.”

“JT wish I were going to ride with Monsieur Fletcher,
mother.”

“That is impossible, Henri, for scarce a Gascon gentleman
but has been down at one time or other to Béarn. Do not be
JEANNE OF NAVARRE. 193

anxious for adventures; they will come in time, my son, and
plenty of them. Would that you could pass your life without
one; but in these troubled times, and with France divided against
itself, that is too much to hope. Should you by any chance,
Monsieur Fletcher, fail to rejoin us at Villeneuve d’Agenois,
you may overtake us farther on. But run no risk to do so. You
know whither we are bound, and I trust that when we arrive
there we may find you before us. I myself will retain the
ring that you brought me, and will return it to the Admiral,
but wear this in remembrance of one in whose service you
risked your life,” and she handed him a diamond ring, which
he knew enough of gems to be aware was of considerable value.

“And take this dagger,” the prince said, taking a small
and beautifully tempered weapon from his belt. “It is but a
bodkin, but it is of famous steel. It was sent me by Philip
of Spain at a time when he was trying to cajole my mother,
and is of the best workmanship of Toledo.”

Philip expressed his thanks for the gifts in suitable words,
and then taking leave of the queen and prince went down to
the courtyard. Here he found Pierre and the two men-at-
arms standing at the head of three powerful horses, while one
of the queen’s retainers held a very handsome animal in readi-
ness for himself.

“Her majesty begs you to accept these horses, sir, as a slight
token of her good-will.” In five minutes the party had issued
from Neérac, Pierre as usual keeping close behind Philip, and
the two men-at-arms riding a few lengths behind.

“This is truly a change for the better, Monsieur Philip,”
Pierre said; “‘we entered Nérac as tillers of the soil, we ride
out in knightly fashion.”

“Yes, Pierre, it is good to be on the back of a fine horse
again, and this one I am riding is worthy of a place beside
Victor and Robin.”

“Yes, he is as good as either of them, sir; I am not sure
that he is not better. We, too, are well content with the

Queen of Navarre’s generosity, for her steward gave us, before
177 N
194 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

we started, each a purse of twenty crowns, which has been a
wonderful salve to our sore feet. I trust there will be no more
occasion to use them for a time.”

“T hope not. It was a long journey, but it was fortunate
that we pushed on as we did, for had we been twelve hours
later we should not have found the queen at Nérac.”

“And why does not your honour stay to ride with her?”
Pierre asked.

“IT hope to join her again to-night. We are going through
Agen, where I hope to gather such news of the movements of
the Catholic troops as may be of use to her.”

Agen was about fifteen miles distance from Nérac, and as
there was no occasion for haste, and Philip did not wish the
horses to have the appearance of being ridden fast, they took
three hours in traversing the distance. When they neared the
town he said to Pierre, ‘‘I shall not take you with me. If
there should be trouble—though I do not see how this can well
come about—four men could do no more than one. Therefore,
Pierre, do you follow me no nearer than is sufficient to keep
me in sight, the other two will follow you at an equal distance,
together or separately. Should any accident befall me you
are on no account to ride up or to meddle in the business. I
have told you what my instructions are, and it will be your
duty to carry them out if I am taken. You will put up your
horse, and mingling with the soldiers and townspeople find out
if there is any movement in the wind, or whether any troops
have already gone forward. Jacques and Roger will do the same,
and you will meet and exchange news. If you find that any-
thing has been done, or is going to be done,.towards putting
more guards on the river, or despatching a force that might inter-
fere with the passage of the queen from Tonneins to Villeneuve
d’Agenois, Roger and Jacques will ride to the point where I
told you the crossing is to be made, and will warn the queen
of the danger. I leave you free to ride with them, or to stay
in the town till you learn what has happened to me. If you
should find that there is no movement of troops, you and the
JEANNE OF NAVARRE: 195

others will be free either to ride to Pontier or to make your
way back to Cognac, and to join my cousin and give him news
of what has happened to me. If I am only held as a prisoner
the Admiral will doubtless exchange a Catholic gentleman for
me; he is sure to take many prisoners at the capture of the
towns.”

He then called the two men-at-arms up, and repeated the
instructions relating to them.

“But may we not strike in should you get into trouble,
master? Roger and I would far rather share whatever may
befall you.”

“No, Jacques, it would be worse in every way; force could
be of no avail, and it would lessen my chance of escape were
you beside me. Single-handed I might get through and trust
to the speed of my horse, if taken I might plan some mode
of escape. In either case it would hamper me were you there.
Above all it is important that my mission should be fulfilled,
therefore my commands on that head are strict. I do not
apprehend trouble in any way; but if it should occur you will
at once turn your horses down the first street you come to, so
that you may in no way be connected with me. Pierre will of
course turn first. You will follow him, see where he stables
his horse, then go on to some other cabaret, and having put
up your horses go back to the place where he has stopped,
wait till he joins you outside, then arrange for the hour
at which you are to meet again, and then go off in different
directions to gather the news of which we are in search. Take
no further thought about me at all; give your whole minds to
the safety of the queen. Upon that depends greatly the issue
of this war. Were she and her son to fall into the hands of
the Catholics, it would be a fatal blow to the cause.”

So saying, he rode on again at the head of the party. When
within a quarter of a mile of the town he again called Pierre
up to him.

“Pierre, do you take this ring and dagger. Should I be
taken I shall assuredly be searched to see whether I am the
196 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

bearer of despatches. J should grieve to lose these gifts as
much as I should to fall into the hands of the Catholics. Keep
them for me until you learn that there is no chance of my ever
returning to claim them, and then give them to my cousin,
and beg him in my name to return the ring to the Queen of
Navarre, and the dagger to the young prince.”

“T like not all these provisions,” Pierre said to himself.
“Hitherto the master has never, since I first knew him, given
any commands to me as to what was to be done in case he were
captured or killed. It seems to me that the danger here is as
nothing to that he has often run before, and yet he must have
some sort of foreboding of evil. If I were not a Huguenot, I
would vow a score of pounds of candles to be burnt at the
shrine of the Holy Virgin if the master gets safe out of yonder
town.”

Philip rode on across the bridge and entered the gates with-
out question. Up to this time his followers had kept close
behind him, but now, in accordance with his instructions,
they dropped behind. He continued his way to the principal
square, rode up to an inn, entered the courtyard, and gave his
horse to the stableman.

“Give it a feed,” he said, “and put it in the stable. I shall
not require it until the afternoon.”

Then he went into the public room, called for food and wine,
and sat down. The tables were well nigh full, for there were
many strangers in the town. After a first glance at the new-
comer none paid him any attention. Pierre and the two men
had, in accordance with his instructions, passed the inn they
had seen him enter, and put up at other places. There was a
loud buzz of conversation, and Philip listened attentively to
that between four gentlemen who had just sat down at the next
table to him. Three of them had come in together, and the
fourth joined them just as Philip’s meal was brought to him.

“Well, have you heard any news at the governor’s, Maignan?”
one of them asked the last comer.

‘Bad news. Condé and the Admiral are not letting the
JEANNE OF NAVARRE. 197

grass grow under their feet. They have captured not only
Niort, as we heard yesterday, but Parthenay.”

“ Peste/ that is bad news indeed. What a blunder it was to
let them slip through their fingers, when they might have
seized them with two or three hundred men in Burgundy.”

“Tt seems to me that they are making just the same mistake
here,” another put in. ‘As Jeanne of Navarre is well nigh as
dangerous as the Admiral himself, why don’t they seize her and
her cub and carry them to Paris?”

“Because they hope that she will go willingly of her own
accord, St. Amand. La Motte-Fenelon has been negotiating
with her for the last fortnight on behalf of the court. It is
clearly far better that she should go there of her own will than
that she should be taken there a prisoner. Her doing so would
seem a desertion of the Huguenot cause, and would be a tre-
mendous blow to them. On the other hand, if she were taken
there as a prisoner, it would drive many a Huguenot to take up
arms who is now content to rest quiet. And moreover, the
Protestant princes of Germany and Elizabeth of England would
protest; for whatever the court may say of the Admiral, they can
hardly affirm that Jeanne of Navarre is thinking of making
war against Charles for any other reason than the defence of
her faith. Besides, she can do no harm at Nérac, and we can
always lay hands on her when we like. At anyrate there is
no fear of her getting farther north, the rivers are too well
guarded for that.”

“T don’t know,” another said, ‘after the way in which
Condé and the Admiral, though hampered with women and
children, made their way across France, I should never be sur-
prised at anything. You see there is not a place where she has
not friends; these pestilent Huguenots are everywhere. She
will get warning of danger, and guides across the country—
peasants who know every by-road through the fields and every
shallow in the rivers. It would be far better to make sure of
her and her son by seizing them at Nérac.”

“ Besides,” St. Amand said, “there are reports of movements
198 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

of Huguenots all over Guyenne; and I heard a rumour last
night that the Seneschal of Armagnac has got a considerable
gathering together. These Huguenots seem to spring out of
the ground. Six weeks ago no one believed that there was a
corner of France where they could gather a hundred men
together, and now they are everywhere in arms.”

“J think,” Maignan said, “that you need not be uneasy
about the Queen of Navarre. Iam not at liberty to say what
I have heard, but I fancy that before many hours she will be
on her way to Paris, willingly or unwillingly. As for the
seneschal, he and the others will be hunted down as soon as
this matter is settled. A day or two sooner or later will make
no difference there, and until the queen is taken the troops
will have to stay in their present stations. My only fear is
that, seeing she can have no hope of making her way north,
she will slip away back to Navarre again. Once there, she
could not be taken without a deal of trouble. Whatever is to
be done must be done promptly. Without direct orders from
the court no step can be taken in so important a matter. But
the orders may arrive any hour; and I think you will see that
there will be no loss of time in executing them.”

“And Nérac could not stand a long siege even if it were
strongly garrisoned, and the handful of men she has got with
her could not defend the walls for an hour. I hope she may
not take the alarm too soon; for as you say, once back in
Navarre it would be difficult indeed to take her. It is no
joke hunting a bear among the mountains; and as her people
are devoted to her, she could play hide-and-seek among the
valleys and hills for weeks—ay, or months—before she could
be laid hold of. It is well for our cause, Maignan, that she is
not aman. She would be as formidable a foe as the Admiral
himself. Huguenot as she is, one can’t help respecting her.
Her husband was a poor creature beside her; he was ready to
swallow any bait offered him; while even if it would seat her
son on the throne of France, she would not stir a hand’s-breadth
from what she thinks right.”
JEANNE OF NAVARRE. 199

Philip finished his meal and then went out into the square.
The news was satisfactory. No order had yet arrived for the
seizure of the queen; and though one was evidently looked for
to arrive in the course of a few hours, it would then be too
late to take any steps until nightfall at the earliest, and by nine
o'clock the queen would have left Nérac. No movement was
intended at present against the seneschal, nor did the idea that
the queen might attempt to join him seem to be entertained.
It was possible, however, that such a suspicion might have
occurred to the governor, and that some troops might secretly
be sent off later. He must try to learn something more.

Confident that he could not be suspected of being ought but
what he appeared, a Catholic gentleman—for his garments were
of much brighter hue than those affected by the Huguenots,—
he strolled quietly along, pausing and looking into shops when he
happened to pass near groups of soldiers or gentlemen talking
together. So he spent two or three hours. No word had reached
his ear indicating that any of the speakers were anticipating a
sudden call to horse. He saw that Pierre was following him,
keeping at some distance away, and pausing whenever he
paused. He saw no signs of the other two men, and doubted
not that they were, as he had ordered, spending their time in
wine-shops frequented by the soldiers, and listening to their talk.

Feeling convinced that no orders had been given for the
assembly of any body of troops, he sat down for a time at a
small table in front of one of the principal wine-shops, and
called for a bottle of the best wine, thinking that the fact that
he was alone would be less noticeable so than if he continued
to walk the streets. Presently a party of four or five gentlemen
sat down at a table a short distance off. He did not particu-
larly notice them at first, but presently glancing that way saw
one of them looking hard at him; and a thrill of dismay ran
through him as he recognized the gentleman addressed as
Raoul, the leader of the party that had stopped him near
Bazas. He had, however, presence of mind enough to look
indifferently at him, and then to continue sipping his wine.
200 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

The possibility that this gentleman with his troop should
have come to Agen had never entered his mind; and though
the encounter was a most unfortunate one, he trusted that the
complete change in his appearance would be sufficient to prevent
recognition, although it was evident by the gaze fixed on him
that the gentleman had an idea that his face was familiar. To
move now would heighten suspicion if any existed, and he
therefore sat quiet, watching the people who passed in front of
him, and revolving in his mind the best course to be taken
should Raoul address him. The latter had just spoken to his
cousin, who was sitting next to him.

“Do you know that young gentleman, Louis?” he asked.
“T seem to know his face well, and yet he does not know
me, for he just now glanced at me without recognizing me.
You know most of the gentry in this neighbourhood, do you
know him?”

“No, I cannot say that I do, Raoul; though I too seem to
have a recollection of his face. It is a sort of face one remem-
bers too. I should think his family must belong to the north,
for you do not often see men of that complexion about here.
He looks very young, not above nineteen or twenty; but there
is a look of earnestness and resolution about his face that would
point to his being some years older.”

Dismissing the matter from his mind Raoul joined in the
conversation round him. Presently he grasped his cousin’s
arm.

“T know where we saw the face now, Louis; he was one of
the four fellows we stopped two days since near Bazas.”

“Impossible, Raoul! Those men were peasants, though two
of them had served for a time in the army; the others—” and
he stopped.

“You see it yourself, Louis. One of the others was a dark
active man, the other was but a lad—a tall, well-built young
fellow with fair complexion and gray eyes. I thought of it
afterwards, and wondered where he got that skin and hair
from. I put it down that it was a trace of English blood, of
AN ESCAPE FROM PRISON. 201

which there is a good deal still left in Guyenne and some of
the other provinces they held long ago.”

“T certainly see the likeness now you mention it, Raoul, but
it can hardly be the same. This is a gentleman; he is certainly
that, whoever he may be. How could a gentleman be masque-
rading about as a peasant?”

“That is what I am going to find out, Louis. He may have
been a Huguenot making his way down to join the Queen of
Navarre at Nérac; he may be one of her train there, who had
gone out in disguise to reconnoitre the country and see what
forces of ours were in the neighbourhood, and where posted.
That may be his mission here, but this time he has chosen to
come in his proper attire.”

“That can hardly be his attire if he is one of Jeanne of
Navarre’s followers. He may have got a suit for the purpose,
but assuredly the colours are too gay for a Huguenot in her
train. For my part, I sce nothing suspicious about his appear-
ance. There, he is paying his reckoning and going.”

“And I am going after him,” Raoul said rising. “There is
something strange about the affair, and there may be some plot.
Do you come with me, Louis. Monsieur D’Fstanges, I have a
little matter of business on hand, will you come with me?”

CHAPTER XII.
AN ESCAPE FROM PRISON.

LANCING half round as he turned away from the wine-
shop, Philip saw Raoul and two of his companions rising.
He walked off in a leisurely manner, and a few paces farther
turned down a side street. He heard steps following him, and
then a voice said:
“Hold, young sir; I would have a word with you.” Philip
turned with an expression of angry surprise.
202 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“Are you addressing me, sir? I would have you know that
Iam not accustomed to be spoken to in that fashion, and that
I bear an insult from no one.”

Raoul laughed. “ Are you equally particular, sir, when you
are going about in peasant’s clothes?”

“T am not good at riddles, sir,” Philip said haughtily, “and
can only suppose that your object is to pick a quarrel with me;
though I am not conscious of having given you offence. How-
ever, that matters little. I suppose you are one of those gallants
who air their bravery when they think they can do so with
impunity. On the present occasion you may perchance find
that you are mistaken. I am a stranger here, and know of no
place where this matter can be settled, nor am I provided with
asecond; but I am quite content to place myself in the hands
of one of these gentlemen, if they will act for me.”

“TI am sure, Raoul, there is some mistake,” Louis began, put-
ting his hand on his cousin’s shoulder. But the other shook it
off angrily. He was of a passionate and overbearing temper,
and Philip’s coolness, and the manner in which he had turned
the tables upon him and challenged him to a duel, inflamed
him to the utmost.

“Hands off, Louis,” he said. “Do you think that I, Raoul de
Fontaine, am to be crowed over by this youth? He has chal-
lenged me to fight, and fight he shall.”

“You provoked him,” Louis said firmly. “You gave him
provocation such as no gentleman of honour could suffer. It
was not for this that I came out with you, but because you said
that you wished to unravel what may be a plot.”

“T will cut it, which will be easier than unravelling it,” Raoul
replied. “It is shorter and easier work to finish the matter with
a sword-thrust than to provide for his being swung at the end
of a rope.”

“We had best waste no time in empty braggadocio,”
Philip said coldly, “but proceed at once to some quiet spot
where this matter can be settled undisturbed.”

“I think the young gentleman is right,” M. D’Estanges, a
AN ESCAPE FROM PRISON. 203

gentleman of the court, said gravely. “The matter has gone
too far for anything else now, and I am bound to say that your
adversary, of whose name I am ignorant, has borne himself in
a manner to merit my esteem, and that as your cousin will of
course act for you, I shall be happy to place my services at his
disposal.”

“Let us get beyond the gates,” Raoul said abruptly, turning on
his heel and retracing his steps up the lane to the main street.

“T thank you, sir, for offering to stand by one of whose very
name you are ignorant,” Philip said, as, accompanied by Mon-
sieur D’Estanges, he followed the others. “It is, however, right
that you should know it. It is Philip Fletcher; on my father’s
side Tam English, on my mother’s I am of noble French blood,
being cousin to Francois de Laville, whose mother and mine
were daughters of the Count de Moulins.”

“Two distinguished families of Poitou,” M. D’Estanges said
courteously. “It needed not that to tell me that you were of
good blood. T regret much that this encounter is going to take
place. Monsieur Raoul de Fontaine was in the wrong in so
rudely hailing you, and I cannot blame you for taking it up
sharply; although, seeing your age and his, and that he is a
good swordsman, it might have been more prudent to have
overlooked his manner. Unless, indeed,” and he smiled, “ Mon-
sieur Raoul was right, and that you are engaged on some
weighty matter here, and preferred to run the risk of getting
yourself killed rather than have it inquired into. The Countess
of Laville and her son are both staunch Huguenots, and you
may well be on business here that you would not care to have
investigated. You have not asked my name, sir; it 1s Charles
D’Estanges. I am a cousin of the Duc de Guise, and am
naturally of the court party; but I can esteem a brave enemy,
and regret to see one engaged in an encounter in which he
must needs be overmatched.”

“T am a fair swordsman, sir,” Philip said, “though my
arm may lack somewhat of the strength it will have a few
years later. But had it been otherwise I should have still taken
204 ST, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

the course I have. I do not say your conjecture is a correct
one, but at any rate I would prefer the most unequal fight to
being seized and questioned. One can but be killed once, and
it were better that it should be bya thrust in the open air than
a long imprisonment, ending perhaps with death at the stake.”

Monsieur D’Estanges said no more. In spite of his relation-
ship with the Guises he, like many other French Catholic nobles,
disapproved of the persecutions of the Huguenots, and espe-
cially of the massacres perpetrated by the lower orders in the
towns, men for whom he had the profoundest contempt. He felt
sorry for his companion, whose youth and fearless demeanour
moved him in his favour, and who, he doubted not, had come
to Agen to confer with some of the Huguenots, who were to
be found in every town.

Issuing from the gates, they went for a quarter of a mile
along the road, and then Raoul led the way into a small wood.
Here, without a word being spoken, Raoul and Philip threw
aside their cloaks and doublets.

“Gentlemen,” M. D’Estanges said, “surely this quarrel might
be arranged without fighting. Monsieur de Fontaine ad-
dressed my principal, doubtless under a misapprehension, with
some roughness, which was not unnaturally resented. If Mon-
sieur de Fontaine will express his regret, which he certainly
could do without loss of dignity, for the manner in which he
spoke, my principal would, I am sure, gladly accept his apology.”

“That is my opinion also,” Louis de Fontaine said, “and I
have already expressed it to my cousin.”

‘And I have already said that I will do nothing of the sort,”
Raoul said. “I am fighting not only in my own quarrel, but in
that of the king, being well assured in my mind that this young
man, whether he be, as he now appears, a gentleman of birth,
or whether, as I saw him last, a peasant-boy, is engaged in some
plot hostile to his majesty.”

“Then there is nothing more to he said,” Monsieur D’Estanges
said gravely; “but before you begin I may tell you, Monsieur
de Fontaine, that this gentleman belongs to a family no less noble
AN ESCAPE FROM PRISON. 205

than your own. He has confided to me his name and position,
which I think it as well not to divulge. Now, Louis, we may
as well stand aside. We have done our best to stop this
quarrel, and to prevent what I cannot but consider a most
unequal contest from taking place.”

The last words were galling in the extreme to Raoul de
Fontaine. Monsieur D’Estanges stood high at court, was a
gentleman of unblemished reputation, and often appealed to on
questions of honour, and this declaration that he considered the
combat to be an unequal one was the more irritating since he
was himself conscious of the fact. However, he could not
recoil now, but with an angry expression of face drew his sword
and stood on guard. Philip was no less ready. The easy
attitude he assumed, with his weight for the most part on his
left leg, differed so widely from the forward attitude then in
fashion among French duellists, that Monsieur D’Estanges,
convinced that he knew nothing of sword-play, shrugged his
shoulders pityingly. The moment, however, that the swords
grated against each other, and Philip put aside with a sharp
turn of the wrist a lunge with which his opponent intended
at once to finish the combat, the expression of his face changed.

“The lad did not speak boastfully when he said he was a fair
swordsman,” he muttered to himself. ‘‘He does not fight in
our fashion, but at least he knows what he is about.”

For some minutes the fight continued, Raoul’s temper rising
higher and higher as he found every attack baffled by a foe he
had despised, and who refused to fall back even an inch, how-
ever hotly he pressed him. He had at first intended either to
wound or disarm him, but he soon fought to kill, At last
there was a fierce rally, ending by Philip parrying a home-
thrust and returning it with lightning swiftness, running Raoul
de Fontaine through the body with such force that the hilt of
his sword struck against his chest, and he sank lifeless to the
ground.

“By our Lady, young gentleman,” M. D’Estanges exclaimed,
“but you have done well! ‘You said that you were a fair
206 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

swordsman; truly you are of the highest class. Raoul’s
temper has led him into many a duel, and he has always
wounded or killed his man. Who could have thought that he
would receive his death-blow at the hands of a youth? But
whom have we here? Peste/ this is awkward.” As he spoke,
Count Darbois, the governor of Agen, with a body of troopers,
rode up. He had ridden to within a mile or two of Nérac, and
questioning persons from the town learned that everything was
quiet there, and that no fresh body of Huguenots had arrived.
He was on his way back when, hearing the clash of swords,
he had ridden into the wood to inquire into its meaning.

“What is this?” he exclaimed. “Why, what is this, Mon-
sieur De Fontaine? Your cousin, Count Raoul, dead!”

Louis, who was leaning over his cousin, looked up.

“ Alas! I fear that it is so, Monsieur le Comte. My poor
cousin has fallen in a duel.”

‘‘What a misfortune, and at such a moment! Is it not scan-
dalous that at a time like this, when every gentleman’s sword
is needed in defence of our king and faith, they should in-
dulge in private quarrels? And is it you, Monsieur D’Estanges,
who has done his majesty this bad service?” for by this time
Philip had resumed his doublet and cloak.

“No. Ionly stood as second to his opponent, who has behaved
fairly and honourably in the matter, as I am sure Count Louis
will testify.”

“Your word is quite sufficient, Monsieur D’Estanges. And
who is this gentleman who has thus slain one who had no
mean reputation as a swordsman ?”

“A young gentleman passing through Agen. The quarrel
arose through a rencontre in the street. Count Raoul was, as
was his nature, hasty, and put himself in the wrong. The
gentleman resented his language, and a meeting was at once
arranged. Count Louis and myself were with Raoul, and as
his opponent was alone, and it was not desirable to draw others
into the matter, I offered to act as his second, and he accepted
it at once. Wecame here. Count Louis and I made a final
AN ESCAPE FROM PRISON. 207

effort to persuade Raoul to apologize for his language. He
refused to do so and they fought, and you see the conse-
quence.”

“But who is this stranger?” the governor asked again.

“Count Raoul did not feel it necessary to ask, count; and
I think, as he waived the point, and the affair is now termi-
nated, it would be well that his opponent should be permitted .
to withdraw without questions.”

“That is all very well for you, Monsieur D’Estanges, as a party
in a private quarrel, but as governor of Agen it is my duty to
satisfy myself as to who this stranger who has killed an officer
of the king may be.”

He turned his horse, and for the first time obtained a view
of Philip, who, seeing the impossibility of escape, had been
standing quietly by.

“Why, it is but a youth!” he exclaimed. “ You say he slew
Count Raoul in fair fight, Monsieur D’Estanges?”

“Tn as fair a fight as ever I saw, Monsicur le Comte.”

“Who are you, sir?” the governor asked Philip.

“Tam a stranger travelling through Agen on private business,”
Philip said quietly.

“But what is your name and family, sir?”

“T am English,” Philip replied. “My name is Philip
Fletcher.”

“A Huguenot, I will be bound?” the governor said angrily.

“Not at all, count. I am of the religion of my nation—
a Protestant.”

“Tt is the same thing,” the governor said. ‘It is clear that,
for whatever purpose you may be in Agen, you are here for no
good. This is a serious matter, Monsieur D’Estanges.”

“As I have said, I know nothing of this gentleman, count.
I saw him for the first time a little over half an hour ago, and
on every account I wish that I had not seen him. He has killed
my friend Raoul, deprived his majesty of a staunch adherent,
and has got himself into trouble. But for all that, I am assured
by his conduct and bearing in this business that he is an honour-
208 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S ‘EVE,

able gentleman, and I intreat you, asa personal favour, count,
that you allow him to. go free.”

“T would do much to oblige you, Monsieur D’Estanges, but he
is an Englishman, and.a Protestant by his own confession, and
therefore can only be here to aid the men who have risen in
rebellion, and to conspire with the king’s enemies. He will be
placed in close charge, and when the present pressing affairs
have been put out of hand, I doubt not we shall find means of
learning a good deal more about this mysterious person, who
claims. to be English but who yet speaks our language like a
-Frenchman.”

“ As to that matter, I can satisfy you at once,” Philip said.
“My mother was a French lady, a daughter of the Count de
Moulins of Poitou.”

“A Huguenot family, if I mistake not,” the governor said
coldly. “Well, we have other things to think of now. Captain
Carton, place two troopers one on each side of this person.
I authorize you to cut him down if he tries to escape. Let
four others dismount and carry the body of the Count de Fon-
taine into the city. You will, of course, take the command of
his troop, Count Louis, seeing that, if I mistake not, you are
his nearest relative and the heir to his possessions.”

As Philip was led through the streets he caught sight of
Pierre, who made no sign of recognition as he passed. He was
taken to the castle, and confined in a room in a turret looking
down upon the river. The window was closely barred, but
otherwise the room though small was not uncomfortable. It
contained a chair, a table, and a couch. When the door was
barred and bolted behind him, Philip walked to the window
and stood looking out at the river.

The prospect seemed dark; the governor was unfavourably
disposed towards him now, and when the news came on the
morrow that the Queen of Navarre had slipped through his
fingers his exasperation would no doubt be vented on him.
‘What was now but a mere suspicion would then become al-
most a certainty, and it would, as a matter of course, be assumed


PHILIP IN PRISON.
AN ESCAPE FROM PRISON. 209

that he was there on matters connected with her flight. That
he was a Protestant was alone sufficient to condemn him to
death, but his connection with the queen’s flight would, beyond
all question, seal his fate. Pierre, he felt sure, would do all
that he could for him; but that could amount to almost nothing.
Even if he had the means of filing through or removing the
bars, it would need a long stout rope to enable him to descend
to the water’s edge, a hundred feet below him; and that he
could obtain possession of either file or rope seemed to him as
absolutely impossible.

“Nevertheless,” he said to himself, “I will let Pierre know
where I am confined. I do not see that it can do any good.
But he is a fellow of resource; I have great faith in him, and
though I can see no possible plan of escape, he, being without,
may try something. I have no doubt that his first endeavour
will be to find out where I am confined. I warrant he will
know my cap if he sees it. He has an eye like a hawk, and if
he sees anything outside one of the windows he will suspect at
once that it is a signal, and when he once looks closely at it he will
make out its orange tint and these three long cock’s feathers.”

So saying he thrust one of his arms through the bars with
the cap, which he allowed to hang down against the wall below.
There he stood for two hours, closely examining every boat that
came along. At last he saw one rowed by two men with a
third sitting in the stern, and had no difficulty in making out, as
it came closer, that this was Pierre, who was gazing at the castle.
Presently he saw him suddenly clap his hands and speak to
the rowers. These did not look up but continued to row on in
the same leisurely way as before, nor did Pierre again glance at
the castle. Satisfied that his signal had been observed, Philip
withdrew it but continued to watch the boat. It went half a
mile higher up, then turned and floated quietly down the
stream again. When he had seen it pass the bridge he threw
himself down on the couch.

“There is nothing more for me to do,” he said; “ the matter

is in Pierre’s hands now.” :
(777) 0
210 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

He listened for a time to the tramp of a sentry backwards
and forwards outside his door and then fell off to sleep, from
which he did not awake until he heard the bars withdrawn and
the key turned in the lock. Then a man accompanied by two
soldiers entered, and placed a chicken, a bottle of wine, and a loaf
of bread on the table. “Monsieur D’Estanges sends this with
his compliments,” he said; and then Philip was again left alone.

Two hours after it became dark he thought he heard a con-
fused sound as of the trampling of a number of horsemen in the
court-yard of the castle. He went to the door and placing his
ear against it was convinced that he was not mistaken.

“That looks as if an expedition were about to start some-
where,” he said; “if they are bound for Nérac they will arrive
there too late, for the queen will by this time be setting out.
They cannot intend to scale the walls to-night, and the gates
will have been shut long ago; they are probably going into
ambush somewhere near so as to ride in in the morning. I wish
I could be certain they are bound in that direction. There
was certainly no idea of an expedition this morning, but it is
possible that the messenger with the order for the arrest of the
queen and prince may have arrived this afternoon, and the
governor is losing no time. I trust it is so, and not that news
has come from some spy at Nérac-that she will leave the place
to-night. If it is so this party may be setting out to strengthen
the guards on the river, or to occupy the roads by which she
would travel were her purpose to join the seneschal. I trust
that Pierre and the others are on the alert and not wasting
their time in thinking about me, and that if this troop make
along the river they will ride to warn the queen in time.
Hearing nothing she will assume that the road is clear, and that
she can go on fearlessly. It is enough to drive one mad being
cooped up here when the whole success of the cause is at stake.”

The character of the sentry’s walk had changed. He had
been relieved some four hours before, and his walk at times
ceased as if he were leaning against the wall to rest himself,
while at times he gave an impatient stamp with his feet.
AN ESCAPE FROM PRISON. 211

‘T expect they have forgotten to relieve him,” Philip said to
nimself; “if a strong body has gone out that might very well
be.”

Another half-hour passed, and then he heard steps ascend-
ing the stone staircase and the sentry exclaimed angrily, “Sa-
pristie, comrade, I began to think I was going to be kept all
night at my post, and that everyone had ridden out with that
party that started half an hour ago. Now, then; the orders are,
‘Permit no one to approach, refuse even to allow officers to visit the
prisoner without a special order of the governor.” That is all. Now
I am off for a tankard of spiced wine, which I think I have
earned well, for it is a good hour after my time of relief.”

Then Philip heard his footsteps descending the stairs, while
the man who had relieved him walked briskly up and down
in front of the door. In a minute or two he stopped, then Philip
turned with a start from the window at which he was standing,
as he heard through the keyhole a loud whisper, “ Monsieur
Philip, are you asleep? It is I!”

“Why, Pierre!” he exclaimed, running to the door and put-
ting his mouth to the keyhole; ‘how did you come here?”

“T will tell you that later, master, the thing is now to get
you out; the bolts here are easy enough to draw, but this lock
puzzles me. I have brought up two thin saws and an auger,
and thought to cut round it, but there is a plate of iron out-
side.”

“And there is one inside too, Pierre. How about the
hinges, Pierre?”

“There is no doing anything with them, master, the iron-
work goes right across the door. There is nothing for it but to
cut right round the iron plate.”

“That won’t take very long if the saws are good, Pierre.”

Philip heard a rasping sound, and in a short time the auger
passed through the woodwork. Two other holes adjoining the
first were soon made, and then the end of a saw was pushed
through.

“Tf you can make a hole large enough at the bottom of the
212 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

plate, Pierre, and pass me the other saw through, I can work
that way to meet you.”

“Tt would take too long to make, sir. I have plenty of oil,
and it won’t take me long to saw round the plate. I only
brought the second saw in case the first should break. But this
oak is pretty nearly as hard as iron.”

It took over an hour’s work before the cut was complete.
When it was nearly finished Pierre said, “Be ready to seize the
piece that is cut out as soon as I am through with it, master,
otherwise it may fall down as the door opens and make a clat-
ter that will be heard all over the castle.”

As the last piece was sawn through Philip pressed the door,
and as it opened seized the portion cut out, drew it backward,
and laid it gently on the stone floor, then he rose and grasped
Pierre’s hand.

““My brave Pierre, you have accomplished what I thought
was an impossibility. Now, what is the next thing to be done?”

“The next thing is to unwind this rope from my body. It
is lucky I am so lean that it did not make me look bulky. It
is not very thick, but it is new and strong, and there are knots
every two feet. Roger is waiting for us below in a boat.”

“Where is Jacques?”

“Jacques has ridden off. He learned before sunset that
orders had been issued for the troops to assemble; he and
Roger had taken the four horses beyond the walls an hour
after you were arrested, and had left them at a farmer’s a mile
away. So he arranged with me that he should follow the troop
on foot, which he could do, as there are footmen as well as
horse in the party that has gone out. Then as soon as he
discovered which way they were going he would slip off and
make for the farmhouse and mount. If they were bound for
Nérac he will wait for us at the point on the other side of the
river. If they follow the river down, he will ride at full speed,
make a circuit, and warn the queen of the danger. He will
have plenty of time to do that, as the column will have to move
at the pace of the infantry.”
AN ESCAPE FROM PRISON. 213

“That is a load off my mind, Pierre.” While they were
speaking they had unwound the rope, fastened one end to the
battlement and lowered the other down.

“T will go first, master; I am the lightest, and will steady the
rope for you from below.”

In two or three minutes Philip felt that the rope was no
longer tight, and at once swung himself over and lowered
himself down. The water washed the foot of the wall, and
he stepped directly into the boat, which Roger was keeping in
its place with a pole while Pierre held the rope. An exclama-
tion of thankfulness broke from the two men as his feet
touched the gunwale of the boat, and then without a word Roger
began to pole the boat along against the tide, keeping close to
the foot of the wall. Once fairly beyond the castle the pole
was laid in and the two men took the oars, and the boat shot
across the river. Then they rowed up under the opposite bank,
until a voice from above them said:

“Ts all well—is Monsieur Philip with you?”

“ All is well, Jacques,” Philip exclaimed delighted, for the
fact that his follower was there showed that the troops had
gone in the direction that did not threaten the safety of the
queen. They leapt ashore and pushed the boat off to allow
it to float down with the stream.

It was a mile to the spot where the horses had been left.
On the way Philip heard how his escape had been effected.

“T saw you go out from the town, monsieur, and could not
for the life of me make out what was going to happen. I did
not know the gentleman you were walking with, but I recog-
nized the two in front of you as the officers of the troop that
had questioned us near Bazas, One of them was talking
angrily to the other. As it seemed to me that you were going
willingly and not as a prisoner, and especially as you were going
out of the town, I thought that it was my business to wait until
you returned. I saw half an hour later some horsemen coming
up the street, and someone said that it was the governor, who
had been out with a party. It gave me a bad turn when I saw
214 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

you walking as a prisoner in the middle of them. I saw you
glance at me but of course made no sign, and I followed until
you entered the castle. When I was walking away I saw a
crowd. Pushing forward I found they were surrounding four
soldiers who were carrying a body on their shoulders, and made
out at once it was the officer who had been talking so angrily
to his companion. Then I understood what had puzzled me
before, and what you had gone outside the walls for; the rest
was easy to guess. The governor had come along, you had
been questioned, and had been arrested as a Huguenot. It
was evident that no time was to be lost, and that if you were
to be got out it must be done quickly.

“T hurried away to the cabaret where Jacques and Roger
were drinking. We talked the matter over, and agreed that
the first thing was to get the four horses out of the town. So I
went to the inn where you had put up, said I was your servant,
paid the reckoning, and took away the horse. Then I got my
. own and joined the other two, who were mounted and ready.
They each took a horse and rode off, settling to leave them at
some farmhouse a short distance away, explaining there that the
town was so full they could find no room for them. Directly
they had started I set off to have a look round the castle.
The great thing was to know where they had lodged you.
If it was in a cell looking outward, I thought that, knowing I
should be searching for you, you would make a signal. If I
could see nothing I determined to accost some servant coming
out from the castle, to make acquaintance with him, and over
a bottle of wine to find out in what part of the castle you were
lodged.

“On the land side I could see nothing, and then went back
and waited till Jacques and Roger returned. Then we took a
boat, and as you know rowed up, and I soon made out your
cap outside the wall. Then as we rowed back we arranged
matters. Jacques was to carry out your former orders: find out
about the movement of troops, and warn the queen if danger
threatened. Roger was to be at the foot of the wall with a
AN ESCAPE FROM PRISON. 215

boat as soon as 1t became dark; I was to undertake to get you
out. The first thing to do wasto get arope. This I carried to
a quiet place on the wall, knotted it and put it round me under
my doublet; then there was nothing to do but to wait. I went
several times to hear if Jacques had any news, and was glad
when he told me that most of the troops were ordered to be
under arms at eight o’clock. This would make matters simpler
for me, for with numbers of people going in and coming out of
the castle it would be easy to slip in unnoticed.

“As soon as it was dark Jacques and I went down a lane,
and he gave me his steel cap and breast-piece and took my
cap in exchange. Then I went up towards the castle. The
gates were open, and I was told that they would not be closed
until midnight as so many were coming out and going in, and
there was no hostile force anywhere in these parts. Presently
numbers of gentlemen began to arrive with their retainers, and
I soon went in with a party of footmen. The court-yard
was full of men, and I was not long before I found the staircase
leading up to the top of the wall on the river side. I went
boldly up, and half-way found a door partly open. Looking in
I saw that it was evidently used by some gentlemen who had
gone down in haste to join the party below, so I shut the door
and waited. I heard the troops start, and guessed from the
quiet that followed that the greater portion of the garrison had
left. I felt pretty sure that there would be a sentry at your
door, and waited until the time I thought he would be expect-
ing a relief; then I went up. He was in a mighty hurry to get
down, and did not stop to see who I was, or to ask any ques-
tions; which was well for him, for I had my knife in my hand,
and should have stabbed him before he could utter a cry.
Everything went off well, and you know the rest, sir.”

“You managed wonderfully, Pierre. I thought over every
plan by which you might aid me to escape, but I never thought
of anything so simple as this. Nor, indeed, did I see any possible
way of your freeing me. How are we going to get our horses?
The farmer will think that we are a party of thieves.”
216 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“They are in an open shed,” Jacques said. “I told the
farmer that our reason for bringing them out of the town was
that you might have to start with orders any time in the night,
and that it would be troublesome getting them out from town
stables and having the gates opened for them to pass out, while
on foot you could issue from the postern without trouble. I
paid him for the corn when I left them.”

The horses, indeed, were got out without any stir in the
house indicating that its occupants were awakened.

“Give me your sword, Pierre,” Philip said as he mounted.
“JT trust that we shall meet with no enemies on the road; still
we may do so, and I should not like to be unarmed. You have
your arquebus.”

This had been brought in the boat by Roger, and on landing
Pierre had exchanged the steel cap and hreast-plecs for his own
cap. The road to Villeneuve D’Agenois was a cross-country
one, and would be impossible to follow in the dark. Conse-
quently, after keeping on the main road for half an hour, they
turned off a road to the right, rode until they came to a wood,
and there alighted.

“Shall I light a fire, sir?” Pierre asked.

“Tt is not worth while, Pierre; it must be getting on for
midnight now, and we must be in the saddle again at daybreak.
By this time they have no doubt found that I have escaped.
The first time they send up a man to relieve you.the open door
will be noticed. They will certainly make no search to-night,
and to-morrow they will have something else to think about;
for doubtless some spy at Nérac will, as soon as the gates are
open, take the news to the governor’s party that the queen has
left.”

Two hours’ brisk ride in the morning took them within sight
of Villeneuve D’Agenois. Riding across the bridge over the
river Lot he entered the town. The street was full of troops,
and three gentlemen standing at the door of an inn looked
with suspicion on the gay colouring of Philip’s costume, and as
he alighted they stepped forward to accost him.
AN ESCAPE FROM PRISON. 217

“May I ask who you are, sir?” one said advancing; “and
what is your business here?”

“Certainly you may,” Philip said, as he dismounted. “ My
name is Philip Fletcher. I am here at the order of her
majesty the Queen of Navarre, who, I trust, has arrived here
safely.”

“The queen arrived here three hours since, Monsieur Fletcher ;
and I may say that she did you the honour to inquire at once if
a gentleman of your name had arrived.”

“T should have met her at the river near Tonneins; but the
governor of Agen laid an embargo on me, yet thanks to these
three faithful fellows I got safely out of his clutches.”

“‘We shall march in an hour, Monsieur Fletcher, and as soon
as the queen is up I will see that she is acquainted with your
coming. Allow me to introduce myself first, Gaston de Rebers.
Breakfast is ready in this cottage, and we were about to sit down
when we saw you riding up. I shall be glad if you will share it
with us. These are my comrades, Messicurs Duvivier, Harcourt,
and Parolles.” He then called a sergeant.

“Sergeant, see that Monsieur Fletcher’s servant and men-at-
arms have a good meal.”

“T think they must want it,” Philip said. ‘They have been
so busy in my service that I doubt if they have eaten since
breakfast yesterday. I myself supped well, thanks to the cour-
tesy of Monsieur D’Estanges, who was good enough to send up
an excellent capon and a bottle of wine to my cell.”

“You know Monsieur D’Estanges?” Gaston de Rebers asked
courteously. ‘He is a gentleman of high repute, and though
connected with the Guises he is said to be opposed to them in
their crusade against us.”

“JT had only the honour of meeting him yesterday,” Philip
said, as they sat down to table; “but he behaved like a true
gentleman, and did me the honour of being my second in an
unfortunate affair into which I was forced.”

“Who was your opponent, may I ask, sir?”

“Count Raoul de Fontaine.”
218 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“A doughty swordsman!” Gaston de Rebers exclaimed;
“but one of our bitterest opponents in this province. You are
fortunate indeed to have escaped without a serious wound, for
he has been engaged in many duels, and but few of his oppo-
nents have escaped with their lives.”

“He will neither persecute you nor fight more duels,” Philip
said quietly; “for I had the misfortune to kill him.”

The others looked at him with astonishment.

“Do I understand rightly, Monsieur Fletcher, that you have
slain Raoul de Fontaine in a duel?”

“That is the case,” Philip replied. “Monsieur D’Estanges,
as I have said, acted as my second, Count Louis de Fontaine
acted for his cousin.”

“You will pardon my having asked you the question again,”
De Rebers said; “but really it seemed well-nigh impossible
that a gentleman, who, as I take it, can yet be scarcely of age,
should have slain Raoul de Fontaine.”

“T lack four years yet of being of age,” Philip said; “for it
will be another month before I am seventeen. But I have had
good teachers, both English and French, and our games and
exercises at school naturally bring us forward in point of
strength and stature in comparison with your countrymen of
the same age. Still, doubtless, it was as much due to good
fortune as to skill that I gained my success, I assuredly had no
desire to kill him; the less so because, to a certain extent, the
duel was of my making. There was, as it seemed to me, no
choice between fighting him and being denounced by him as
a spy. Therefore when he accosted me roughly, I took the
matter up hotly, and there was nothing for it but an encoun-
ter. As I have said, I meant only to wound him, but his skill
and his impetuosity were so great that I was forced in self-
defence to run him through, After all I gained nothing by the
duel, for the governor with a troop of horse came up just as it
concluded, and as I could give no satisfactory account of my-
self, I was hauled off a prisoner to the castle.”

“And how did you escape thence?” Gaston asked.
AT LAVILLE. 219

Philip gave an account of the manner in which his servant
had rescued him.

“ Parbleu/ you are fortunate in your servant. I would that
so shrewd a knave—. But there, the trumpets are sounding.
I will take you at once to the queen, who is doubtless ready
to mount”

CHAPTER XIII
AT LAVILLE,

HE queen was standing at the door of the house where she
had lain down for a few hours’ rest after her arrival; the
prince was standing beside her.

“Here is our English friend, mother,” he exclaimed, running
forward to meet Philip. “Welcome, Monsieur Fletcher. When
we found that you were not here on our arrival last night
we feared that some evil had befallen you.”

“Monsieur Fletcher is well able to take care of himself,
prince; he has been having adventures enough,” Gaston de
Rebers said.

“You must tell me about them as we ride,” the prince said.
“T love adventures, M. Fletcher.”

They had now reached the queen, “Iam glad to see you,
Monsieur Fletcher. Of course it was in one way a relief to us
when we crossed the river and did not find you there, for I
was sure you would have been there to give us warning had
there been danger on the way; but I-thought you might come
in any case, and when we found that you had not arrived here
before us I was afraid that something might have befallen you.”

“T have had some slight troubles, your majesty, and to my
great regret I was unable to mect you at the passage of the
river. I should have been here long before daylight, but we
were unable to find the road in the dark, and had to wait
until we could inquire the way.”
220 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“Monsieur Fletcher is pleased to say that he has had some
slight troubles, madame,” Gaston said; “but as the troubles
included the slaying in a duel of Raoul de Fontaine, one of the
bitterest enemies of our faith, and moreover a noted duellist,
and an escape from the castle of Agen, where he was confined
as a suspected Huguenot and spy, the term slight does not
very aptly describe them.”

“What!” a tall soldierly old man standing next to the queen
exclaimed. ‘Do you mean to say, De Rebers, that Monsieur
Fletcher has killed Raoul de Fontaine in a duel? If so, I
congratulate your majesty. He was a bitter persecutor of the
Huguenots, and one of the hottest-headed and most troublesome
nobles in the province. Moreover, he can put a hundred and
fifty men into the field; and although his cousin Louis, who is
his heir, is also Catholic, he is a man of very different kind,
and is honoured by Huguenot and Catholic alike. But how this
gentleman could have killed so notable a swordsman is more
than I can understand; he looks, if you will pardon my saying
so, a mere youth.”

“He rode beside Frangois de la Noiie in the battle of St.
Denis, seneschal,” the queen said; “and as he was chosen by
my cousin Condé and Admiral Coligny for the difficult and
dangerous enterprise of carrying a communication to me, it is
clear that whatever his years he is well fitted to act a man’s
part.”

“That is so,” the seneschal said heartily. “I shall be glad
to talk to you again, sir; but at present, madame, it is time to
mount. The troops are mustering, and we have a long ride
before us. If you will lead the way with the infantry at once,
Monsieur de Rebers, we will follow as soon as we are mounted.
We must go your pace, but as soon as we start I will send a
party to ride a mile ahead of you, and see that the roads are
clear.”

At starting the queen rode with the prince and the seneschal
at the head of the mounted party, some two hundred and fifty
strong, and behind followed the noblemen and gentlemen who
AT LAVILLE. 221

had come with her, and those who had accompanied the sene-
schal.

Philip, who knew no one, rode near the rear of this train,
behind which followed the armed retainers. In a short time
a gentleman rode back through the party. “Monsieur Flet-
cher,” he said when he reached Philip, “the prince has asked
me to say that it is his wish that you shall ride forward and
accompany him.”

Philip turned into the field, and rode to the head of the
party. The prince, who was looking round, at once reined in
his horse and took his place beside him.

“Now, Monsieur Philip, you must tell me all about it. I
am tired of hearing consultations about roads and Catholic
forces. I want to hear a full account of your adventures, just
as you told me the tale of your journey to Nérac.”

During the course of the day several parties of gentlemen
joined the little force. So well organized were the Huguenots,
that during the last two or three days the news had passed
from mouth to mouth throughout the province for all to
assemble, if possible, at points indicated to them; and all
knew the day on which the seneschal would march north
from Villeneuve. Yet so well was the secret kept, that the
Catholics remained in total ignorance of the movement. Con-
sequently at every village there were accessions of force await-
ing the seneschal, and parties of from ten to a hundred rode
up and joined them on the march. After marching twenty
miles they halted at the foot of a chain of hills, their numbers
having been increased during the day to over twelve hundred
men. The queen and her son found rough accommodation in
a small village, the rest bivouacked round it.

At midnight three hundred cavalry and two hundred foot-
men started across the hills, so as to come down upon Bergerac
and seize the bridge across the Dordogne; then at daylight
the rest of the force marched. On reaching the river they
found that the bridge had been seized without resistance.
Three hundred gentlemen and their retainers, of the province
222 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

of Perigord, had assembled within half a mile of the other side
of the bridge, and had joined the party as they came down.
A Catholic force of two hundred men in the town had been
taken by surprise and captured, for the most part in their beds.

The queen had issued most stringent orders that there was
to be no unnecessary bloodshed, and the Catholic soldiers,
having been stripped of their arms and armour, which were
divided among those of the Huguenots who were ill-provided,
were allowed to depart unharmed the next morning, some
fifteen gentlemen being retained as prisoners. Three hundred
more Huguenots rode into Bergerac in the course of the day.
The footmen marched forward in the afternoon, and were
directed to stop at a village twelve miles on. As the next
day’s journey would be a long one, the start was again made
early, and late in the afternoon the little army, which had
been joined by two hundred more in the course of the day,
arrived within sight of Périgueux. Five hundred horsemen
had ridden forward two hours before to secure the bridge.

The seneschal had, after occupying Bergerac, placed horse-
men on all the roads leading north to prevent the news from
spreading, and Périgueux, a large and important town, was
utterly unprepared for the advent of an enemy. A few of the
troops took up arms and made a hasty resistance, but were
speedily dispersed; the greater portion fled at the first alarm
to the castle, where D’Escars himself was staying. He had
only two days before sent off a despatch to the court declaring
that he had taken his measures so well that not a Huguenot
in the province would take up arms. His force was still
superior to that of the horsemen, but his troops were disor-
ganized, and many in their flight had left their arms behind
them, and he was therefore obliged to remain inactive in the
citadel; and his mortification and fury were complete when
the seneschal’s main body marched through the town and
halted for the night a league beyond it.

The next day they crossed the Dronne at Brantéme, and
then turned to the west. The way was now open to them,
AT LAVILLE. 223

and with two thousand men the seneschal felt capable of
coping with any force that could be got together to attack
them. A halt was made for a day to rest the men and horses,
and four days later, after crossing the Perigord hills, and keep-
ing ten miles south of Angouléme, they came within sight of
Cognac. Messages had already been sent on to announce
their coming, and five miles from the town they were met by
the Prince of Condé and the Admiral.

“Your first message lifted a load from our minds, madame,”
the Admiral said; “the last news I received of you was that
you were still at Nérac, and as an intercepted despatch informed
us that orders had been sent from the court for your immediate
arrest, we were in great uneasiness about you.”

“We left Nérac just in time,” the queen said; “for, as we
have learned, the governor of Agen with a strong force left
that city to effect our capture at the very hour that we started
on our flight.”

“Did you know where you would find us, madame? We
sent off a message by trusty hands, but whether the gentleman
reached you we know not.”

“Indeed he did, and has since rendered us good service;
and Henri here has taken so great a fancy to him that since
we left Villeneuve he has always ridden by his side.”

After Condé had presented the gentlemen who had ridden
out with him to the queen, and the seneschal in turn had
introduced the most important nobles and gentlemen to the
prince and Admiral, they proceeded on their way.

“Have you taken Cognac, cousin?” the queen asked Condé.

“No, madame; the place still holds out. We have captured
St. Jean d@’Angély, but Cognac is obstinate, and we have no
cannon with which to batter its walls.”

As soon, however, as the queen arrived at the camp a sum-
mons was sent in in her name, and, influenced by this and by
the sight of the reinforcements she had brought with her,
Cognac at once surrendered. As soon as Philip rode into
camp he was greeted joyously by his cousin Frangois.
224 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

““We did not think when we parted outside Niort that we
were going to be separated so long,” he said, after they had
shaken hands heartily. ‘I was astonished indeed, when two
days later I met the Admiral outside the walls of the town
again, to hear that you had gone off to make your way through
to Nérac. I want to hear all your adventures. We have not
had much fighting; Niort made but a poor resistance, and
Parthenay surrendered without striking a blow; then I went
with the party that occupied Fontenay. The Catholics fought
stoutly there, but we were too strong for them. Those three
places have given La Rochelle three bulwarks to the north.
Then we started again from La Rochelle and marched to
St. Jean d’Angély, which we carried by storm. Then we came
on here, and I believe we shall have a try at Saintes or Angou-
léme. When we have captured them we shall have a complete
cordon of strong places round La Rochelle. We expect La
Noiie down from Brittany every hour, with a force he has
raised there and in Normandy; and we have heard that a large
force has gathered in Languedoc, and is advancing to join us;
and all is going so well that I fancy if Monsieur d’Anjou does
not come to us before long we shall set out in search of him.
So much for our doings; now sit down comfortably in my tent
and tell me all about your journey. I see you have brought
Pierre and your two men back with you.”

“You would be nearer the truth if you said that Pierre and
the two men had brought me back,” Philip laughed; “for if it
had not been for them I should probably have lost my head
the day after the queen left Nérac.”

“That is a good beginning to the story, Philip; but tell me
the whole in proper order as it happened.”

Philip told his story at length, and his cousin was greatly
pleased at the manner in which he had got through his various
dangers and difficulties.

The queen remained but a few hours with the army after
Cognac had opened its gates. After a long conference with
the Prince of Condé, the Admiral, and the other leaders, she
AT LAVILLE. 225

left under a strong escort for La Rochelle, leaving the young
prince with the army, of which he was given the nominal com-
mand, as his near connection with the royal family, and the
fact that he was there as the representative of his mother,
strengthened the Huguenot cause, which could no longer be
described by the agents of the French court with foreign powers
as a mere rising of slight importance, the work only of Condé,
Coligny, and a few other ambitious and turbulent nobles.

“T asked my mother to appoint you as one of the gentlemen
who are to ride with me, Monsieur Fletcher,” the young prince
said to Philip when he saw him on the day after the queen’s
departure; “but she and the Admiral both said no. It is not
because they do not like you, you know; and the Admiral said
that he could very well trust me with you. But when my
mother told him that I had ridden with you for the last four
days, he said that it would cause jealousy, when there were so
many young French nobles and gentlemen in the camp, if I
were to choose you in preference to them as my companion,
you being only French on your mother’s side and having an
English name. I begged them to let me tell you this, for I
would rather ride with you than with any of them; and I
should not like you to think that I did not care to have you
with me any more. I think it hard. They call me the com-
mander of this army, and I can’t have my own way even in a
little thing like this. Some day, Monsieur Fletcher, I shall be
able to do as I please, and then I hope to have you near me.”

“T am greatly obliged to your Highness,” Philip said; “but
T am sure the counsel that has been given you is right, and
that it is far better for you to be in the company of French
gentlemen. I have come over here solely to do what little I
can to aid my mother’s relations, and those oppressed for their
faith; and though I am flattered by your wish that I should
be near you, I would rather be taking an active share in the
work that has to be done.”

“Yes, the Admiral said that. He said that while many a
youth would be most gratified at being selected to be my com-

(777) P
226 ST, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

panion, he was sure that you would far rather ride with your
cousin M. De Laville, and that it would be a pity to keep one
who bids fair to be a great soldier acting the part of nurse to
me, It was not quite civil of the Admiral, for I don’t want a
nurse of that kind, and would a thousand times rather ride as
an esquire to you and take share in your adventures. But the
Admiral is always plain-spoken; still as I know well that he is
good and wise, and the greatest soldier in France, I do not
mind what he says.”

Angouléme and Saintes were both captured without much
difficulty, and then moving south from Angouléme the army
captured Pons and Blaye, and thus possessed themselves of a
complete semicircle of towns round La Rochelle. A short time
afterwards they were joined bya strong force of Huguenots from
Languedoc and Provence. ‘These had marched north without
meeting with any enemy strong enough to give them battle,
and when they joined the force under the Admiral they raised
its strength to a total of three thousand cavalry and twenty
thousand infantry. By this time the royal army of the Prince
d’Anjou, having united with that raised by the Guises, had
advanced to Poitiers. The season was now far advanced; indeed
winter had already set in. Both armies were anxious to fight;
but the royalist leaders, bearing in mind the desperate valour
that the Huguenots had displayed at St. Denis, were unwilling to
give battle unless in a position that afforded them every advan-
tage for the movements of their cavalry, in which they were
greatly superior in strength to the Huguenots.

The Admiral was equally determined not to throw away the
advantage he possessed in his large force of infantry; and after
being in sight of each other for some time, and several skirmishes
having taken place, both armies fell back into winter quarters—
the severity of the weather being too great to keep the soldiers
without tents or other shelter in the field.

During these operations Philip and his cousin had again
ridden with Francois de la Noiie, who had rejoined the army
after a most perilous march, in which he and the small body of
AT LAVILLE. 227

troops he had brought from Brittany had succeeded in making
their way through the hostile country, and in crossing the fords
of the intervening rivers after hard fighting and considerable
loss.

As soon as the intense cold had driven both armies to the
shelter of the towns, the count said to Francois: “You and
Philip had better march at once with your troop to Laville.
It will cost far less to maintain them at the chateau than else-
where; indeed the men can for the most part return to their
farms. But you must be watchful, Francois, now that a portion
of Anjou’s army is lying at Poitiers) They may, should the wea-
ther break, make raids into our country; and as Laville is the
nearest point to Poitiers held for us, they might well make a
dash at it.”

The countess welcomed them back heartily, but expressed
great disappointment that the season should have passed with-
out the armies meeting.

“Tt was the same last time, it was the delay that ruined us.
With the best will in the world there are few who can afford to
keep their retainers in the field for month after month, and
the men themselves are longing to be back to their farms and
families. We shall have to keep a keen look-out through the
winter. Fortunately our harvest here is a good one and the
granaries are all full, so that we shall be able to keep the men-
at-arms on through the winter without much expense. I feel
more anxious about the tenants than about ourselves.”

“Yes, mother, there is no doubt there is considerable risk of
the enemy trying to beat us up; and we must arrange for signals,
so that our people may have time to fall back here. Philip
and I will think it over. We ought to be able to contrive
some scheme between us.”

“Do so, Frangois. I feel safe against surprise here; but I
never retire to rest without wondering whether the night will
pass without the tenants’ farms and stacks being set ablaze,
and they and their families slaughtered on their own hearth
stones,”
228 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“T suppose, Francois,” Philip said to him as they stood at
the look-out next morning, “there is not much doubt which
way they would cross the hills coming from Poitiers. They
would be almost sure to come by that road that we travelled
by when we went to Chatillon. It comes down over the hills
two miles to the west. There it is, you see; you just catch sight
of it as it crosses that shoulder. Your land does not go as far
as that, does it?”

“No, it only extends a mile in that direction and four miles
in the other, and five miles out into the plain.”

“Are there many Huguenots on the other side of the
hill?”

“Yes, there are some; but, as you know, our strength is in
the other direction. What are you thinking of?”

“J was thinking that we might make an arrangement with
someone in a village some seven or eight miles beyond the
hills, to keep a boy on watch night and day, so that directly a
body of Catholic troops were seen coming along he should start
at full speed to some place a quarter of a mile away, and there
set light to a beacon piled in readiness.

“We on our part would have a watch set on the top of this
hill behind us, at a spot where the hill on which the beacon
was placed would be visible. Then at night the fire and by
day the smoke would serve as a warning. Our watchman
would at once fire an arquebus and light another beacon, which
would be the signal for all within reach to come here as quickly
as possible. At each farmhouse a look-out must, of course, be
kept night and day. I should advise the tenants to send up as
much of their corn and hay as possible at once, and that the
cattle should be driven up close to the chateau at night.”

“J think that would be a very good plan, Philip. I am
sure that among our men-at-arms must be some who have
acquaintances and friends on the other side of the hill. It will
be best that they should make the arrangements for the firing
of the signal beacon. We might even station one of them in a
village there, under the pretence that he had been knocked up
AT LAVILLE, 229

with the cold and hardship and was desirous of staying quietly
with his friends. He would watch at night and could sleep
by day, as his friends would waken him at once if any troops
passed along.”

The same afternoon one of the men-at-arms prepared to
start for a village eight miles beyond the hill.

“There is no rising ground near it,” he said to Francois,
“that could well be seen from the top of the hill here; but about
half a mile away from the village there is an old tower. It is
in ruins, and has been so ever since I can remember. I have
often climbed to its top when I wasa boy. At this time of year
there is no chance of anyone visiting the place. I could collect
wood and pile it ready for a fire without any risk whatever.
I can point out the exact direction of the tower from the top
of the hill, so that the watchers would know where to keep
their attention fixed.”

“Well, you had better go up with us at once then, so that 1
shall be able to instruct the men who will keep watch. We will
build a hut up there for them and keep three men on guard,
so that they will watch four hours apiece day and night.”

The distance was too great to make out the tower; but as
the soldier knew its exact position, he drove two stakes into
the ground three feet apart.

“Now,” he said, “aman looking along the line of the tops of
these stakes will be looking as near as may be at the tower.”

The tenants were all visited, and were warned to keep a
member of their family always on the watch for fire or smoke
from the little hut at the top of the hill) As soon as the signal
was seen night or day, they were to make their way to the
chateau, driving their horses and most valuable stock before
them, and taking such goods as they could remove.

“You had better let two horses remain with their harness
on night and day, and have a cart in readiness close to your house.
Then, when the signal is given, the women will only have to
bundle their goods and children into the cart, while the men
get their arms and prepare to drive in their cattle.
230 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

‘The Catholics will show no mercy to any of the faith they
may find, while as to the chateau it can make a stout resistance,
and you may be sure that it will not be long before help arrives
from Niort or La Rochelle.”

Arrangements were also made with the Huguenot gentry in
the neighbourhood that they should keep a look-out for the
signal, and on observing it light other beacons, so that the
news could be spread rapidly over that part of the country.
As soon as the fires were seen the women and children were to
take to the hills, the cattle to be driven off by the boys, and
the men to arm themselves and mount.

“Of course,” the countess said, ata council where all these
arrangements were made, “we must be guided by the number
sent against us. If by uniting your bands together you think
you can raise the siege, we will sally out as soon as you attack
and join you, but do not attack unless you think that our united
forces can defeat them. If we could defeat them we should
save your chateaux and farms from fire and ruin. If you find
they are too strong to attack, you might harass parties sent out
to plunder, and so save your houses, while you despatch men to
ask for help from the Admiral. If, however, they are so strong
in cavalry that you could not keep the field against them, I
should say it were best that you should ride away and join
any party advancing to our assistance.”

A month passed quietly. Every day a soldier carrying wine
and provisions rode to the hut that had been built on the crest
of the hill three miles away. Hight o’clock one evening towards
the end of January the alarm-bell rang from the look-out tower.
Philip and his cousin ran up.

“There is the beacon alight at the hut, count,” the look-out
- said.

“Tight this bonfire then, Jules, and keep the alarm-bell
going. To horse, men!” he cried looking over the parapet.
“Bring out our horses with your own.”

The men had been previously told off in twos and threes to
the various farmhouses to aid in driving in the cattle, and as
AT LAVILLE. 231

soon as they were mounted each party dashed off to its des-
tination. From the watch-tower four or five fires could be
seen blazing in the distance, showing that the look-outs had
everywhere been vigilant, and that the news had already been
carried far and wide. Francois and Philip rode up to the hut
on the hill.

“There is no mistake, I hope?” Francois said as, a quarter of
a mile before they reached it, they met the three men-at-arms
coming down.

“No, count, it was exactly in a line with the two stakes,
and I should think about the distance away that you told us
the tower was. It has died down now.”

The beacon-fire near the hut had been placed fifty yards
below the crest of the hill, so that its flame should not be seen
from the other side. This had been at Philip’s suggestion.
“Tf it is put where they can see it,” he said, “they will feel
sure that it is in answer to that fire behind them, and will ride
at full speed so as to get here before the news spreads. If they
see no answering fire, they may suppose that the first was but
an accident. They may even halt at the village, and send off
some men to see what has caused the fire, or if they ride
straight through they will be at some little distance before
Simon has got to the fire and lighted it, and may not care to
waste time sending back. At any rate it is better that they
should see no flame up here.”

They had often talked the matter over, and had agreed that
even if the column was composed only of cavalry, it would
be from an hour and a half to two hours before it arrived at
the chateau, as it would doubtless have performed a long
journey, while if there were infantry with them they would
take double that time. Directly an alarm had been given two
of the youngest and most active of the men-at-arms had set off
to take post at the point where the road crossed the hill. Their
orders were to lie still till all had passed, and then to make
their way back along the hill at full speed to inform the garrison
of the strength and composition of the attacking force.
232 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

When they returned to the chateau people were already pour-
ing in from the neighbouring farms; the women staggering under
heavy burdens, and the men driving their cattle before them
or leading strings of horses. The seneschal and the retainers
were at work trying to keep some sort of order, directing the
men to drive the cattle into the countess’s garden, and the
women to put down their belongings in the court-yard where
they would be out of the way; while the countess saw that
her maids spread rushes thickly along by the walls of the
rooms that were to be given up to the use of the women and
children. Cressets had been lighted in the court-yard, but
the bonfire was now extinguished so that the enemy on reach-
ing the top of the hill should see nothing to lead them to sup-
pose that their coming was known. The alarm-bell had ceased
sending its loud summons into the air; but there was still a
variety of noises that were almost deafening, the lowing of
cattle disturbed and angered at the unaccustomed movement,
mingled with the shouts of men, the barking of dogs, and the
crying of frightened children.

“JT will aid the seneschal in getting things into order down
here, Francois,” Philip said, “while you see to the defence of
the walls, posting the men, and getting everything in readiness
to give them a reception. I will look after the postern doors,
and see that the planks across the moats are removed and the
bolts and bars in place.”

Frangois nodded, and bidding the men-at-arms, who had
already returned, stable their horses and follow him, he pro-
ceeded to the walls.

“This is enough to make one weep,” Pierre said as the oxen
poured into the court-yard, and then through the archway that
led to the countess’s garden.

“What is enough, Pierre? to see all these poor women and
children who are likely to behold their homesteads in flames
before many hours?”

“Well, I did not mean that, master, though I don’t say that
is not sad enough in its way; but that is the fortune of war, as
AT LAVILLE. 233

it were. I meant the countess’s garden being destroyed. The
beasts will trample down all the shrubs, and in a week it wiil
be no better than a farmyard.”

Philip laughed. “That is of very little consequence, Pierre.
A week’s work with plenty of hands will set that right again.
Still, no doubt it will vex the countess, who is very fond of
her garden.”

“A week!” Pierre said. ‘Why, sir, it will take years and
years before those yew hedges grow again.”

“Ah well, Pierre, if the countess keeps a roof over her
head she may be well content in these stormy times. You had
better go and sce if she and her maids have got those chambers
ready for the women. If they have, get them all in as quickly
as youcan. These beasts come into the court-yard with such
a rush that some of the people will be trampled upon if we
do not get them out of the way.”

“Most of them have gone into the hall, sir. The countess
gave orders that all were to go in as they came, but I suppose
the servants have been too busy to tell the late-comers. I will
get the rest in at once.”

As soon as the farmers and their men had driven the animals
into the garden they went up to the walls, all having brought
their arms in with them. The boys were left below to look after.
the cattle.

“Nothing can be done to-night,” Philip said to some of
the men. “The cattle will come to no harm, and as the boys
cannot keep them from breaking down the shrubs they had
best leave them alone; or they will run the risk of getting
hurt. The boys will do more good by taking charge of the
more valuable horses as they come in, and fastening them up to
the rings round the wall here. The cart horses must go in with
the cattle.”

Several gentlemen with their wives and families came in
among the fugitives. Their houses were not in a condition to
withstand a siege, and it had long been settled that they should
come into the chateau if danger threatened. The ladies were
234 ST, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

taken to the countess’s apartments, while the gentlemen went
to aid Francois in the defence.

An hour and a half after the lads returned to the castle, the
men-at-arms who had been sent to watch the road came in.
They reported that the column approaching consisted of about
three hundred mounted men and fifteen hundred infantry.
Roger had all this time been standing by the side of his
saddled horse. Philip hurried to him as soon as the men
came in.

“Three hundred horsemen and fifteen hundred foot! Ride
at full speed to La Rochelle. Tell the Admiral the numbers, and
request him in the name of the countess to come to her assist-
ance. Beg him to use all speed, for no doubt they will attack
hotly, knowing that aid will soon be forthcoming to us.”

Roger leapt to his saddle and galloped out through the gate.
A man had been placed there to mark off the names of all who
entered, from the list that had been furnished him. Philip took
it and saw that a cross had been placed against every name.
He therefore went up to the top of the wall.

“The tenants are all in, Francois?”

“Very well, then, I will have the drawbridge raised and
the gates closed; I am glad indeed that we have had time
given us for them all to enter. My mother would have been
very grieved if harm had come to any of them. I have every-
thing in readiness here. I have posted men at every window
and loophole where the house rises from the side of the moat;
all the rest are on the walls. I will take command here by
the gate and along the wall. Do you take charge of the de-
fence of the house itself. However, you may as well stay here
with me until we have had our first talk with them. Pass the
word along the walls for perfect silence.”

In another half-hour they heard a dull sound. Presently it
became louder, and they could distinguish, above the trampling
of horses, the clash of steel. It came nearer and nearer until
within two or three hundred yards of the chateau, then it
ceased. Presently a figure could be made out creeping quietly
AT LAVILLE. 235

forward until it reached the edge of the moat. It paused a
moment and then retired.

“He has been sent to find out whether the drawbridge is
down,” Frangois whispered to Philip. “We shall see what
they will do now.” There was a pause for ten minutes, then
a heavy mass of men could be seen approaching.

“Doubtless they will have planks with them to push across
the moat,” Philip said.

“ We will let them come within twenty yards,” Francois
replied, “then I think we shall astonish them.”

Believing that all in the chateau were asleep, and that even
the precaution of keeping a watchman on the walls had been
neglected, the assailants advanced eagerly. Suddenly the
silence on the walls was broken by a voice shouting, “Give
fire!” and then from along the whole face of the battlement a
deadly fire from arquebuses was poured into them. A moment
later half a dozen fire-balls were flung into the column, and a
rain of cross-bolts followed.

Shouts of astonishment, rage, and pain broke from the mass,
and breaking up they recoiled in confusion, while the shouts of
the officers urging them forward could be heard. The heavy
fire from the walls was, however, too much for men who had
expected no resistance, but had moved forward believing that
they had but to sack and plunder, and in two or three minutes
from the first shot being fired all who were able to do so had
retired, though a number of dark figures dotting the ground
showed how deadly had been the fire of the besieged.

“They will do nothing more to-night, I fancy,” one of the
Huguenot gentlemen standing by the two friends remarked.
“They expected to take you entirely by surprise. Now that
they have failed in doing so they will wait until morning to
reconnoitre and decide on the best points of attack. Besides,
no doubt they have marched far, and are in need of rest before
renewing the assault.”

“Well, gentlemen,” Francois said, “it would be needless for
you all to remain here, and when they once begin in earnest
236 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

there will be but slight opportunity of rest until relief reaches
us, therefore I beg you to go below. You will find a table
laid in the hall and two chambers roughly prepared for you,
and you can get a few hours’ sleep. I myself with my own
men will keep watch. Should they muster for another attack
my horn will summon you again to the wall. Philip, will you
go down and see that these gentlemen have all that they
require? You can dismiss all save our own men irom guard
on the other side of the house. The tenants and their men will
all sleep in the hall.”

Philip went down and presided at the long table. The
gentlemen were seated near him, while below them the tenants
and other followers took their places. There was enough cold
meat, game, and pies for all, and when they had finished, the
defenders of the wall came down half at a time for a meal.
When the gentlemen had retired to their apartments, and the
farmers and their men had thrown themselves down upon the
rushes strewn on each side of the hall, Philip went up to join
Francois.

“ Any sign of them, Francois?”

“None at all. I expect they are thoroughly tired out; and
are lying down just as they halted. There is no fear that we
shall hear any more of them to-night.”

CHAPTER XIV.
THE ASSAULT ON THE CHATEAU.

HE night passed quietly. Just as the sun rose a trumpet
sounded, calling for a truce, and two knights in armour rode
forward, followed by an esquire carrying a white flag. They
halted thirty or forty yards from the gate; and the countess
herself came up on to the wall, when the knight raised his vizor.
THE ASSAULT ON THE CHATEAU. 237

“Countess Amelie de Laville, I summon you in the name of
his majesty the king to surrender. I have with me an ample
force to overcome all resistance, but his gracious majesty in his
clemency has empowered me to offer to all within the walls
their lives, save only that you and your son shall accompany
me to Paris, there to be dealt with according to the law, under
the accusation of having taken up arms against his most sacred
majesty.”

“Methinks, sir,” the countess said in a loud clear voice,
“that it would have been better had you delayed until this
morning instead of attempting like a band of midnight thieves
to break into my chateau. I fancy we should have heard but
little of his majesty’s clemency had you succeeded in your
attempt. Iam in arms, not against the king, but against his
evil counsellors, the men who persuade him to break his
pledged word, and to treat his unoffending subjects as if they
were the worst of malefactors. Assuredly their royal highnesses
the Princes of Condé and Navarre have no thought of opposing
his majesty, but desire above all things that he should be
able to act without pressure from Lorraine or Guise, from
pope or King of Spain, and when they lay down their arms I
shall be glad to do so. Did I know that the king himself of
his own mind had sent you here to summons me, I would
willingly accompany you to Paris to clear myself from any
charges brought against me; but as your base attempt without
summons or demand to break into my chateau last night shows
that you can have no authority from his majesty to enter here,
I refuse to open my gates, and shall defend this place until the
last against all who may attack it.”

The knights rode away. They had, after the rough reception
on their arrival, perceived that the countess was determined to
defend the chateau, and had only summoned her to surrender
as a matter of form.

“J would we had never entered upon this expedition, De
Brissac. They told us that the house was but poorly fortified,
and we thought we should assuredly carry it last night by
238 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

surprise, and that by taking this obstinate dame prisoner,
burning her chateau, and sweeping all the country round, we
should give a much-needed lesson to the Huguenots of the
district. One could not have expected to find the place
crowded with men, and everyone ready with lighted matches
and drawn cross-bows to receive us. I believe now that that
fire we saw two or three miles in our rear as we came along
was a signal; but even if it were, one would not have given
them credit for gathering so promptly to withstand us. As
for the place itself, it is, as we heard, of no great strength. ’Tis
but a modern house, inclosed on three sides with a wall some
twenty feet high, and surrounded by a moat of the same width.
With our force we should carry it in half an hour. We know
that the garrison consists of only fifty men besides a score or so
of grooms and servants.”

“So we heard; but Iam mistaken if there were not more
than double that number engaged on the wall. Still, as you
say, there will be no great difficulty in carrying the place. The
ladders will be ready in a couple of hours, and De Beauvoir
will bring in from the farmhouses plenty of planks and beams
for throwing bridges across the moat. It is two hours since he
set out with the horsemen, so as to catch the Huguenot farmers
asleep.”

As they returned to the spot where the men were engaged
in cooking their breakfast, while some were occupied in con-
structing ladders from young trees that had been felled for the
purpose, a gentleman rode in.

“What is your news, De Villette?”

“The news is bad. De Beauvoir asked me to ride in to
tell you that we find the farmhouses completely deserted, and
the whole of the cattle and horses have disappeared, as well as
the inhabitants. Save for some pigs and poultry we have not
seen a living thing.”

‘‘Sapristie! The Huguenot dogs must have slept with one
eye open. Kither they heard the firing last night and at once
made off, or they must have learned we were coming and must
THE ASSAULT ON THE CHATEAU. 239

have gathered in the chateau. Their measures must have been
indeed well planned and carried out for them all to have got
the alarm in time to gather here before our arrival. I hope
that is what they have done, for we reckoned upon carrying
off at least a thousand head of cattle for the use of the army.
‘It was for that as much as to capture the countess and strike a
blow at this hive of Huguenots that the expedition was arranged.
However, if they are all in there it will save us the trouble of
driving them in.”

“In that case though, De Brissac, the fifty men will have
been reinforced by as many more at least.”

“ Ay, maybe by a hundred and fifty with the farmers and
all their hands; but what are a hundred and fifty rustics and
fifty men-at-arms against our force?”

De Brissac had guessed pretty accurately the number of
fighting men that could be mustered among the tenants of the
countess. The training that they had undergone had, however,
made them more formidable opponents than he supposed, and
each man was animated by hatred of their persecutors and a
stern determination to fight until the last in defence of their
lives and freedom of worship. They had been mustered at the
first dawn of day in the court-yard, their arms inspected, and
all deficiencies made up from the armoury. Fifty men were
placed under Philip’s orders for the defence of that portion of
the house that rose directly from the edge of the moat. The
lower windows were small and strongly barred, and there was
little fear of an entrance being forced. The postern gate here
had during the night been strengthened with stones, and articles
of heavy furniture piled against it. A few men were placed
at the lower windows, the main body on the first floor, where
the casements were large, and the rest distributed at the upper
windows to vex the enemy by their fire as they approached.

Philip appointed Eustace to take the command of the men
at. the lower windows, and Roger of those on the upper floor,
he with Jacques posting himself on the first floor, against
which the enemy would attempt to fix their ladders. Great
240 ST, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

fires were lighted in all the rooms, and cauldrons of water
placed over them, and boys with pails stood by these in
readiness to bring boiling water to the windows when required.

The walls round the court-yard and garden were not of
sufficient thickness for fires to be lighted along the narrow
path on which the defenders were posted, but fires were lighted
in the court-yard, and boiling water prepared there in readiness
to carry up when the assault began. The Huguenot gentlemen
were placed in command at the various points along the wall
most likely to be assailed.

Had the besiegers been provided with cannon the defence
could not have lasted long, for the walls would not have resisted
battering by shot, but cannon in those times were rare, and
were too clumsy and heavy to accompany an expedition requir-
ing to move with speed. For a time the men-at-arms alone
garrisoned the wall, the farmers and their men being occupied
in pumping water from the wells and carrying it to the cattle,
of which some eight hundred had been driven in. The granaries
were opened, and a plentiful supply of food placed in large
troughs. At ten o’clock a trumpet called all the defenders to
their posts. The enemy were drawn up in order and moved
towards the house in six columns, two taking their way towards
the rear to attack the house on that side, while the others
advanced toward different points on the wall.

Ladders and long planks were carried at the head of each
column. As they approached the assailants halted, and the
arquebusiers came forward and took their post in line to cover
by their fire the advance of the storming parties. As soon as
these advanced a heavy fire was opened by the besieged with
cross-bow and arquebus. The parapet was high, and while they
exposed only their heads to fire, and were altogether sheltered
while loading, the assailants were completely exposed. Orders
were given that the defenders should entirely disregard the
fire of the matchlock men, and should direct their aim upon
the storming parties. These suffered heavily, but, urged for-
ward by their officers, they gained the edge of the moat,
THE ASSAULT ON THE CHATEAU. 241

pushed the planks across, and placed the ladders; but as fast
as these were put into position they were hurled down again by
the defenders, who, with long forked sticks, thrust them out
from the wall and hurled them backwards, sometimes allowing
them to remain until a line of men had climbed up, and then
pouring a pail of boiling water over the wall upon them.

The farmers vied with the men-at-arms in the steadiness of
the defence, being furious at the sight of columns of smoke
which rose in many directions, showing that the cavalry of
the besiegers were occupied in destroying their homesteads.
Sometimes, when four or five ladders were planted together,
the assailants managed to climb up to the level of the parapet,
but only to be thrust backward with pikes, and cut down with
swords and axes. For two hours the assault continued, and
then De Brissac, seeing how heavy was the loss, and how vain
the efforts to scale the wall at any point, ordered the trumpeters
to sound the retreat, when the besiegers drew off, galled by
the fire of the defenders until they were out of range. The
attempts of the two columns which had attacked the house
itself were attended with no greater success than those of their
fellows, their efforts to gain a footing in any of the rooms on
the first floor having been defeated with heavy loss.

The leaders of the assailants held a consultation after their
troops had drawn off.

“Tt is of no use,” De Brissac said, “to repeat the attack on
the walls, they are too stoutly defended. It is out of the ques-
tion for us to think of returning to Poitiers. We undertook
to capture the place, to harry the farms, to destroy all the
Huguenots, and to return driving in all the cattle for the use
of the army. Of all this we have only so far burned the farm-
houses, and we have lost something like a couple of hundred men.
This time we must try by fire. The men must gather bundles of
firewood, and must attack in three columns, the principal against
the great gate, the others against the two posterns, the one at the
back of the house itself, the other nearest the angle where the
wall joins it. Ifwe had time to construct machines for battering

(777) Q
242 ST, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

the walls it would be an easy business, but that is out of the
question. In a couple of days at the latest we shall have them
coming out like a swarm of hornets from La Rochelle. It is not
likely, when they had all their measuresso well prepared, that they
omitted to send off word at once to Coligny, and by to-morrow at
noon we may have Condé and the Admiral upon us. Therefore
we must make an end of this by nightfall. Have you any better
plans to suggest, gentlemen?”

There was no reply. Several of those present had been
wounded more or less severely, and some terribly bruised by
by being hurled back from the ladders as they led the troops
to the assault. Five or six of the young nobles who had joined
what they regarded as an expedition likely to meet with but
slight resistance had been killed, and all regretted that they
had embarked upon an affair that could bring them but small
credit, while they were unprovided with the necessary means
for attacking a place so stoutly defended. De Brissac at once
issued orders, and strong parties of soldiers scattered and pro-
ceeded to cut down fences and bushes and to form large faggots.
Their movements were observed by the men placed on the sum-
mit of the tower, and no doubt was entertained of the intentions
of the enemy.

“What do you think we had better do, Philip?” Francois
asked as they stood together at the top of the tower watching
the Catholics at work. ‘We may shoot a number of them, but
if they are determined they will certainly be able to lay their
faggots, and in that case we shall be open to attack at three
points, and likely enough they will at the same time renew
their attack on the walls.”

“That is the most dangerous part of it,” Philip said. “We
ought to have no difficulty in holding the three entrances. The
posterns are narrow, and forty men at each should be able to
keep back a host, and this would leave you a hundred and
twenty to hold the main gates; but if we have to man the
walls too the matter would be serious. If we had time we
might pull down one of the outbuildings and build a thick wall
THE ASSAULT ON THE CHATEAU. 243

behind the gates, but in an hour they will be attacking us
again.” He stood thinking for a minute or two, and then
exclaimed: “TI have it, Francois. Let us at once kill a number
of the cattle and pile their carcasses up two deep against the
gates. They may burn them down if they like then, but
they can do nothing against that pile of flesh; the weight of
the carcasses will keep them in a solid mass. At any rate, we
might do that at the two posterns; the great gates are perhaps
too wide and lofty, but if we formed a barricade inside them of
say three bodies high a hundred men ought to be able to defend
it, and that will leave a hundred for the walls and house.”

“That is a capital idea, Philip. We will not lose a moment
in carrying it out.”

Two of the principal tenants were called up and told to see
to the slaughtering instantly of sufficient cattle to pile two deep
against the posterns. Calling a number of men together, these
at once set about the business.

“We will see to the other barricade ourselves, Philip, That
is where the fighting will be.”

The entrance behind the gateway was some twenty-five feet
in width and as much in depth before it entered the court-yard.
The bullocks were brought up to the spot and slaughtered
there. The first line were about to be dragged into place when
Philip suggested that they should be skinned.

“What on earth do you want to skin them for, Philip?”
Frangois asked.

“When they are arranged in a row I would throw the skins
over them again, inside out. The weight of the next row will
keep the skins in their places, and it will be impossible for any-
one to obtain a footing on that slippery surface, especially if
we pour some blood over it.”

Frangois at once saw the point of the suggestion. “Excel-
lent, Philip. I wish my brain was as full of ideas as yours
is.”

The same course was pursued with the other two tiers of
carcasses, the hides of the upper row being firmly pegged into
244 ST, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

the flesh to prevent their being pulled off. The breastwork
was about five feet high, and was absolutely unclimbable.

“It could not be better,” Francois said. “A solid work
would not be half so difficult to get over. Twenty men here
could keep a host at bay.”

Another tier of unskinned carcasses was laid down behind the
breast-work for the defenders to stand on, and earth was piled
over it to afford a footing. They had but just completed
their preparations when the trumpet from above sounded the
signal that the enemy were approaching. All took the posts
that they had before occupied. The enemy approached as they
had expected in three bodies, each preceded by a detachment
that carried in front of them great faggots which served as a
protection against the missiles of the besieged. Among them
were men carrying sacks. :

“What can they have there?” Philip asked one of the
Huguenot gentlemen.

“TJ should say it was earth,” he replied

“Earth!” Philip repeated, puzzled. “What can they want
that for?”

“T should think it is to cover the planks thickly before
they lay down the faggots, otherwise the planks would burn
and perhaps fall bodily in the water before the fire had done
its work on the doors.”

“No doubt that is it,” Philip agreed. “I did not think of
that before.”

As soon as the heads of the columns approached within a
hundred yards the men with arquebuses opened fire, and those
with cross-bows speedily followed suit. Four hundred men
with arquebuses at once ran forward until within a short dis-
tance of the moat, and opened so heavy a fire against the
defenders of the wall and house that these were compelled to
stoop down under shelter. Some of them would have still
gone on firing from the windows, but Philip ordered them to
draw back.

“Tt is of no use throwing away life,” he said. ‘We can-
THE ASSAULT ON THE CHATEAU. 245

not hope to prevent them planting their faggots and firing
them.”

He himself went up into a small turret partly overhanging
the wall, and through a loophole watched the men at work. The
contents of the sacks were emptied out upon the planks, the
latter having been first soaked with water drawn from the moat
by a pail one of the men carried. The earth was levelled a foot
deep, and then a score of buckets of water emptied over it.
Then the faggots were piled against the door. A torch was
applied to them; and as soon as this was done the assailants
fell back, the defenders plying them with shot and cross-bolts
as soon:as they did so.

Philip now paid a hasty visit to the walls. Here the assail-
ants had suffered heavily before they had planted their fag-
gots, the defenders being better able to return their fire than
were those at the windows. In both cases, however, they had
succeeded in laying and firing the faggots, although much
hindered at the work by pails of boiling water emptied upon
them. Some ten of the defenders had been shot through the
head as they stood up to fire. Attempts were made, by pour-
ing water down upon the faggots, to extinguish the flames, but
the time taken in conveying the water up from the court-
yard enabled the fire to get such hold that the attempt was
abandoned.

“It is just as well,” Francois said. “If we could extinguish
the fire we should lose the benefit of the surprise we have
prepared for them.”

In a quarter of an hour light flames began to flicker up at the
edges of the great gates.

“Do you stay here with me, Philip,” Francois said. “Our
own band will take post here; they are more accustomed to
hand-to-hand fighting. The tenants will guard the wall.
Montpace will be in command there. Beg De Riblemont to
take command at the back of the house. ‘Tell him to send for
aid to us if he is pressed. I would put your own three men
down at the postern there. I feel sure they can never move
246 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

that double row of bullocks; but it is as well to make certain,
and those three could hold the narrow postern till help reaches
them. Place a boy with them to send off for aid if necessary.
Bourdou is stationed behind the other postern with three men.
Tt will be half an hour before the gates are down yet.”

The two together made a tour of the defences. All was in
readiness. The men after their first success felt confident that
they should beat off their assailants; and even the women,
gathered round the great fires in the house and court-yard,
with pails in readiness to carry boiling water to the threat-
ened points, showed no signs of anxiety, the younger ones
laughing and chatting together as if engaged in ordinary work.
The countess went round with her maids carrying flagons and
cups, and gave a draught of wine to each of the defenders.
The minister accompanied her. As yet there were no wounded
needing their care, for all who had been hit had been struck
in the head, and death had in each case been instantaneous.

At last the great gates fell with a crash, and a shout of exul-
tation arose from the Catholics, answered by the Huguenots on
the wall by one of defiance. In half an hour the assailants
again formed up. The strongest column advanced towards the
great gate, others against the posterns; and four separate bodies,
with planks and ladders, moved forward to bridge the moat
and to attack at other points. The defenders on the walls and
at the windows were soon at work, and the assailants suffered
heavily from the fire as they advanced. The fifty men-at-arms
behind the barricade remained quiet and silent, a dozen of them
with arquebuses lining the barricade. With loud shouts the
Catholics came on, deeming the chateau as good as won. ‘The
arquebusiers poured their fire into them as they crossed the
moat, and then fell back behind their comrades, who were
armed with pike and sword. As they passed through the still
smoking gateway the assailants saw the barricade in front of
them, but this did not appear formidable, and, led by a num-
ber of gentlemen in complete armour, they rushed forward.

For a moment those in front recoiled as they reached the
THE ASSAULT ON THE CHATEAU. 247

wall of slippery hides; then, pressed forward from behind, they
made desperate attempts to climb it. It would have been as
easy to try to mount a wall of ice; their hands and feet alike
failed to obtain a hold, and from above the defenders with
pike and sword thrust and cut at them; while the arquebusiers,
as fast as possible, discharged their pieces into the crowd,
loaded each time with three or four balls.

For half an hour the efforts to force the barricade continued.
So many had fallen that the wall was now no higher than their
waist, but even this could not be surmounted in face of the
double line of pikemen; and at last the assailants fell back,
baffled. At the two posterns they had failed to make any
impression upon the carcasses that blocked their way. In vain
they strove, by striking the curved points of their halberts into
the carcasses, to drag them from their place; but the pressure
of the weight above, and of the interior line of carcasses that
were piled on the legs of the outside tiers, prevented the enemy
from moving them in the slightest degree. While so engaged,
those at work were exposed to the boiling water poured from
above, and the soldiers standing behind in readiness to advance
when the entrance was won were also exposed to the fire of the
defenders.

The assaults on the walls and at the windows were far less
obstinate than those in the previous attack, as they were in-
tended only as diversions to the main assaults on the pos-
terns and gate; and when the assailants at these points fell
back, the storming parties also retreated. They had lost in all
nearly four hundred men in the second attack, of whom more
than a hundred and fifty had fallen in the assault upon the
barricade. The instant they retreated Francois and Philip
led out their men, cleared the earth from the planks, and threw
these into the water. They were not a moment too soon, for
just as they completed their task the Catholic cavalry thundered
down to the edge of the moat, regardless of the fire from the
walls, which emptied many saddles. Finding themselves un-
able to cross, they turned and galloped off after the infantry.
248 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“We were just in time, Philip,” Francois said. “If they had
crossed the moat it would have gone hard with us, for, with
that bank of bodies lying against the breast-work, they might
have been able to leap it. At any rate, their long lances would
have driven us back, and some would have dismounted and
climbed over. As it is, I think we have done with them.
After two such repulses as they have had, and losing pretty
nearly half their infantry, they will never get the men to try
another attack.”

An hour later, indeed, the whole Catholic force, horse and
foot, were seen to march away by the road along which they
had come. As soon as they did so a trumpet summoned the
defenders from the walls and house; the women and children
also poured out into the court-yard; and the minister taking his
place by the side of the countess on the steps of the chateau, a
solemn service of thanksgiving to God, for their preservation
from the danger that had threatened them, was held. It was now
five o’clock and the short winter day was nearly over. Many of
the tenants would have started off to their farms, but Francois
begged them to remain until next morning.

“The smoke told you what to expect,” he said. “You will
find nothing but the ruins of your houses, and in this weather
it would be madness to take your wives and families out. In
the morning you can go and view your homes. If there are
still any sheds standing that you can turn into houses for the
time, you can come back for your wives and families; if not,
they must remain here till you can get up shelter for them.
In this bitter cold weather you could not think of rebuilding
your houses regularly, nor would it be any use to do so until
we get to the end of these troubles. But you can fell and saw
wood, and erect cottages that will suffice for present use and
serve as sheds when better times return. ‘The first thing to do
is to attend to those who have fallen. The dead must be re
moved and buried, but there must be many wounded, and these
must be brought in and attended to. There is an empty gran-
ary that we will convert into a hospital.”
THE ASSAULT ON THE CHATEAU. 249

“Before we do anything else, Francois, we must fish the
planks from the moat, to serve until a fresh drawbridge is con-
structed. Eustace, do you get two heavy beams thrust over
and lay the planks across them; then with Roger, mount, cross
the moat as soon as it is bridged, and follow the road after the
Catholics. They may not have gone far, and might halt and
return to attack us when we shall be off our guard. Follow
them about five miles; then, if they are still marching, you had
both better come back tous. If they halt before that, do you
remain and watch them, and send Roger back with the news.”

A hundred and thirty wounded men were brought in, some
wounded by shot or crossbow bolt, some terribly scalded, others
with broken limbs from being hurled backwards with the lad-
ders. The countess with her maids and many of the women
attended to them as they were brought in, and applied salves
and bandages to the wounds. Among the mass that had fallen
inside the gate seven gentlemen who still lived were discovered.
These were brought into the chateau and placed in a room
together. The task was carried on by torch-light and occu-
pied some hours. Towards midnight the trampling of a large
body of horse was heard. Arms were hastily snatched up and
steel caps thrust on, and pike in hand they thronged to defend
the entrance. Francois ran to the battlements.

“Who comes there?” he shouted. “Halt and declare your-
selves or we fire.”

The horsemen halted, and a voice cried, “Is that you,
Frangois?”

“Yes, it is I, De la Notie,” Francois shouted back joyously.

“Ts all well? Where are the enemy?” was asked in the
Admiral’s well-known voice.

“ All is well, sir; they retreated just before nightfall, leaving
seven hundred of their infantry wounded or dead behind them.”

A shout of satisfaction rose from the horsemen.

“Take torches across the bridge,” Francois ordered; “it is
the Admiral come to our rescue.”

A minute later the head of the column crossed the tempor-
250 ST, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

ary bridge. Francois had run down and received them in the
gateway.

“What is this?” the Admiral asked; “ have they burnt your
drawbridge and gate?”

“Ves, sir.”

“How was it, then, they did not succeed in capturing the
place? Ah, I see, you formed a barricade here.” Two or three
of the carcasses had been dragged aside to permit the men
carrying the wounded to enter.

“Why, what is it, Frangois—skins of freshly-slain oxen 4”

“Yes, sir, and the barricade is formed of their bodies. We
had neither time nor materials at hand, and my cousin suggested
bringing the oxen up and slaughtering them here. In that way
we soon made a barricade. But we should have had hard work
in holding it against such numbers had he not also suggested
our skinning them and letting the hides hang as you see with
the raw sides outwards.’ Then we smeared them thickly with
blood, and though the Catholics strove their hardest not one of
them managed to get a footing on the top.”

«“ A rare thought indeed,” the Admiral said warmly. “De la
Noiie, these cousins of yours are truly apt scholars in war; the
oldest soldier could not have thought of a better device. And
you say you killed seven hundred of them, Laville?”

“That is the number, sir, counting in a hundred and thirty
wounded who are now lying in a granary here.”

“They must have fought stoutly. But what was your
strength?”

“We had fifty men-at-arms, sir, five or six Huguenot gentle-
men with their retainers, and a hundred and fifty men from
our own estate, all of whom fought as doughtily as old soldiers
could have done. The enemy thought to take us by surprise
yesterday evening, but we were ready for them, and our dis-
charge killed over fifty. Then they drew off and left us until
this morning. They made two great attacks, the first by
throwing planks across the moat and placing ladders at three
places, the second by trying again to storm with ladders, while

7
THE ASSAULT ON THE CHATEAU. 251

other bands tried to force their way in at this gateway and at
the two posterns. Of course they have burned all the farms
to the ground, but the cattle were all safely driven in here
before they arrived. Now, if you will enter, sir, we will en
deavour to provide for your wants. No one is yet in bed, we
have been too busy carrying out the dead and collecting the
wounded to think of sleep.”

The countess was at the steps of the chateau to receive the
Admiral as he dismounted.

“ Accept my heartiest thanks for the speed with which you
have come to our aid, Admiral, we did not expect you before
to-morrow morning at the earliest.”

“It has been a long ride truly,” the Admiral said. ‘Your
messenger arrived at daybreak, having walked the last five
miles, for his horse had foundered. I flew to horse the
moment I received the news, and with four hundred horsemen,
for the most part Huguenot gentlemen, we started at once. We
halted for three hours in the middle of the day to rest- our
horses, and again for an hour just after nightfall. We feared
that we should find your chateau in flames, for although your
messenger said that your son thought you could hold out
against all attacks for two days, it seemed to us that so strong
a force as was beleaguering you would carry the place by storm
in a few hours. I have to congratulate you on the gallant
defence that you have made.”

“T have had nothing to do with it,” the countess replied;
“but, indeed, all have fought well. Now, if you will follow me
in I will do my best to entertain you and the brave gentlemen
who have ridden so far to my rescue, but I fear the accommoda-
tion will be of the roughest.”

The horses were ranged in rows in the court-yard, haltered to
ropes stretched across it, and an ample supply of food was given
to each; some of the oxen that had done such good service were
cut up and were soon roasting over great fires; while the
women spread straw thickly in the largest apartments for the
new-comers to sleep on.
252 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“Where are the Catholics?” the Admiral asked.

“They have halted at a village some seven miles away,”
Frangois said. “We sent two mounted men after them to make
sure that they had gone well away and did not intend to try to
take us by surprise in the night. They returned some hours
since with the news.”

“What do you say, De la Noiie,” the Admiral exclaimed,
“shall we beat them up to-night? They will not be expecting
us, and after their march here and their day’s fighting they
will sleep soundly.”

“T should like nothing better, Admiral; but in truth I doubt
whether our horses could carry us, they have already made a
twenty-league journey.”

“We have at least two hundred horses here, Admiral,”
Francois said; “we have those of my own troop and fully a
hundred and fifty that were driven in by the tenants. My
own troop will of course be ready to go, and you could shift
your saddles on to the other horses. There is not one of our
men who would not gladly march with you, for although we have
beaten the Catholics well the tenants do not forget that they
are homeless, and will, I am sure, gladly follow up the blow.”

“Then so it shall be,” the Admiral said; “a hundred and
fifty of the gentlemen who came with me shall ride with your
troop, the rest of us will march with your tenants. I think we
are capable of doing that even after our ride, gentlemen?”

There was a chorus of assent from those standing round, and
De la Noiie added, “ After supper, Admiral?”

“Certainly after supper,” Coligny assented with a smile.
“ Another hour will make no difference. You may be sure
they will not be moving before daylight. If we start from here
at three, we shall be in ample time.”

Philip at once went out and ordered the attendants and men-
at-arms to lie down for two hours, as the Admiral was going to
lead them to attack the Catholics at their halting-place, news
which was received with grim satisfaction. In the meantime
Francois gave a detailed account of the events of the siege, and_
THE ASSAULT ON THE CHATEAU. 253

the Admiral insisted upon going at once to inspect by torch-
light the novel manner in which the two posterns had been
blocked up.

“Nothing could have been better, De Laville,” he said.
“Your English cousin is indeed full of resources. Better
material than this for blocking up a narrow gateway could
hardly be contrived. Fire, as it was proved, was of no avail
against it, for it would be impossible to dislodge the carcasses
by main force, and even if they had cannon, the balls would not
have penetrated this thickness of flesh, which must have been
torn to pieces before it yielded. The idea of covering the
carcasses at the gates with their own raw hides was an equally
happy one. Upon my word, De la Noiie, I do not think that
if you or I had been in command here we could have done
better than these two young fellows.”

At three o’clock all was ready for a start. De la Noiie took
the command of the two hundred horsemen. The Admiral de-
clined to ride, and placed himself at the head of the column of
infantry, which was three hundred strong, thirty of the original
defenders having been either killed or disabled, and twenty be-
ing left as a guard at the chateau.

The surprise of the Catholics was complete. Three hundred
were killed, two hundred, including their commander, De
Brissac, and thirty other gentlemen, were made prisoners, the
remaining six hundred escaped in the darkness, their arms,
armour, and the whole of the horses falling into the hands of
the victors, who halted at the village until morning.

“Well, De Brissac,” the Count de la Noiie said as they
started on their return, “the times have changed since you and
I fought under your father in Italy, and we little thought then
that some day we should be fighting on opposite sides.”

“Still less that I should be your prisoner, De la Noiie,” the
other laughed. “Well, we have made a nice business of this.
We thought to surprise De Laville’s chateau without having to
strike a blow, and that we were going to return to Poitiers with
at least a thousand head of cattle. We were horribly beaten
254 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

at the chateau, have now been surprised ourselves, and you are
carrying off our horses, to say nothing of ourselves. We
marched out with eighteen hundred men horse and foot, and I
don’t think more than five or six hundred at the outside have
got away and that in the scantiest apparel. Anjou will be
furious when he hears the news. When I am exchanged I
expect I shall be ordered to my estates. Had De Laville
some older heads to assist him?”

“No, he and that young cousin of his riding next to him
acted entirely by themselves, and the cousin, who is an English
lad, is the one who invented that barricade of bullocks that
stopped you.”

“That was a rare device,” De Brissac said. “I fought my
way to it once, but there was no possibility of climbing it. It
is rather mortifying to my pride to have been so completely
beaten by the device of a lad like that. He ought to make a
great soldier some day, De la Noiie.”

CHAPTER XV.
THE BATTLE OF JARNAC.

\ HILE the two armies were lying inactive through the

winter the agents of both were endeavouring to interest
other European powers in the struggle. The pope and Philip
of Spain assisted the Guises, while the Duc de Deux-Ponts
was preparing to lead an army to the assistance of the Hugue-
nots from the Protestant states of Germany. The Cardinal
Chatillon was in England eloquently supporting the letters of
the Queen of Navarre to Elizabeth, asking for aid and muni-
tions of war, men, and money—the latter being required espe-
cially to fulfil the engagements made with the German mercen-
aries. Elizabeth listened favourably to these requests, while
with her usual duplicity she gave the most solemn assurances
to the court of France that, so far from assisting the Huguenots,
she held in horror those who raised the standard of rebellion
against their sovereigns. She lent, however, £7000 to the
THE BATTLE OF JARNAC. 255

King of Navarre, taking ample security in the way of jewels
for the sum, and ordered Admiral Winter to embark six
cannons, three hundred barrels of powder, and four thousand
balls, and carry them to La Rochelle. ‘

The admiral, well aware of the crooked policy of the queen
and her readiness to sacrifice any of her subjects in order to
justify herself, absolutely refused to sail until he received an
order signed by the queen herself. His caution was justified,
for upon the French ambassador remonstrating with her upon
supplying the king’s enemies, she declared that the assistance
was wholly involuntary, for that Admiral Winter had entered
the port of La Rochelle simply to purchase wine and other
merchandise for some ships that he was convoying. The
governor, however, had urged him so strongly to sell to him
some guns and ammunition, that he, seeing that his ships
were commanded by the guns of the forts, felt himself obliged
to comply with the request.

The court of France professed to be satisfied with this state-
ment, although perfectly aware of its absolute untruth, but
they did not wish while engaged in the struggle with the
Huguenots to be involved in open war with England. As soon
as spring commenced both armies again prepared to take the
field. he position of the Huguenots was by no means s0
strong as it had been when winter set in. Considerable num-
bers had died from disease, while large bodies had returned
to their homes, the nobles and citizens being alike unable to
continue any longer in the field owing to the exhaustion of
their resources.

Upon the other hand, although the army of Anjou had
suffered equally from disease it had not been diminished by
desertion, as the troops were paid out of the royal treasury.
Two thousand two hundred German horsemen, a portion of
the large force sent by the Catholic princes of Germany, had
joined him, and the Count de Tende had brought 3000 soldiers
from the south of France. Other nobles came in as the winter
broke with bodies of their retainers. The southern Huguenot
leaders, known as the Viscounts, remained in Guyenne to pro-
tect the Protestant districts. The plan of Condé and the
Admiral was to effect a junction with them, and then to march
and meet the army of the Duc de Deux-Ponts. They there-
256 ST. BARTHOLOMEW § EVE.

fore left Niort, which had for some time been their head-
quarters, and marched south towards Cognac, while the Duc
d’Anjou moved in the same direction.

Both armies reached the river Charente at the same time but
upon opposite sides. The Royalists seized the town of Chateau
Neuf, half-way between Jarnac and Cognac, and set to work to
repair the bridge which had been broken down by the Hugue-
nots. Their main army marched down to Cognac and made a
pretence of attacking the town. The Huguenots were spread
over a long line, and the Admiral, seeing the danger of being
attacked while so scattered, sent to Condé, who commanded the
most advanced part of the army opposite Chateau Neuf,
begging him to retire. Condé, however, with his usual rash-
ness declined to fall back, exclaiming that a Bourbon never
fled from a foe.

The troop of Francois de Laville was with a large body of
horse commanded by the Count de la Notie. Life had passed
quietly at the chateau after the repulse of the attack, for
the occupation of Niort by a large force under the Admiral
secured Laville from any risk of a repetition of the attack.
The garrison and the whole of the tenantry, after they had
erected huts for their families, devoted themselves to the work
of strengthening the defences. Flanking towers were erected
at the angles of the walls. The moat was doubled in width,
and a work erected beyond it to guard the approach across the
drawbridge. The windows on the unprotected side were all
partially closed with brick-work, leaving only loopholes through
which the defenders could fire. The battlements of the wall
were raised two feet and pierced with loopholes, so that the
defenders would no longer be obliged to. raise their heads
above its shelter to fire, and the narrow path was widened by
the erection of a platform, so as to give more room for the men
to use their weapons. A garrison composed of fifty of the
younger men on the farms took the place of the troop when
it rode away.

Anjou had prepared several bridges, and suddenly crossed
the river on the night of the 12th of March, the movement be-
ing so well managed that even the Huguenot divisions in the
neighbourhood were unaware until morning of what was taking
place. As soon as the Admiral was informed that the enemy
THE BATTLE OF JARNAC. 257

had crossed in great force, messengers were sent off in all
directions to order the scattered divisions to concentrate. The
operation was a slow one. Discipline was lax, and many of
the commanders instead of occupying the positions assigned to
them had taken up others where better accommodation could
be obtained, and much time was lost before the orders reached
them. Even then their movements were slow, and it was after-
noon before those in the neighbourhood were assembled, and
the Admiral prepared to fall back towards the main body of
the army which lay near the position occupied by Condé. But
before this could be done the whole Royalist army were upon
him. He had taken part at Bassac, a little village with an
abbey, with but De la Noiie’s cavalry and a small number of
infantry with him, and though the latter fought desperately
they could not check the advance of the enemy.

“This is worse than St. Denis, Frangois,” De la Noiie said,
as he prepared to charge a vastly superior body of the enemy’s
cavalry advancing against the village. “However, it must be
done, for unless Anjou’s advance is checked the battle will be
lost before Condé can arrive. You and your cousin had best
put yourself at the head of your own troop.”

On reaching his men Francois gave the order. “Now, my
men, is the time to show that you have profited by your drill.
Keep in a solid body. Do not break up and engage in single
conflicts, for if you do we must be overpowered by numbers.
Ride boot to boot. Keep your eyes fixed on our plumes, and
when we turn do you turn also and follow us closely.”

When De la Noiie’s trumpet sounded the charge, the band
of horsemen burst down upon the Catholic cavalry, broke their
ranks and pierced far into them. Francois and Philip were
but a horse’s length ahead of their men, and the pressure of the
enemy soon drove them back into their ranks. Keeping in
a close and compact body they fought their way on until
Francois perceived that they were separated from the rest of
the force. Then he put the horn that he wore slung over his
shoulder to his lips and gave the command to wheel round. It
was obeyed, and the line, which was four deep, fought their
way round until facing the rear, and then putting spurs to their
horses they overthrew all opposition and cleft their way out
through the enemy, and then galloped back to Bassac. The

(777) R
258 ST, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

village was lost, and the defenders were falling back in disorder
upon D’Andelot, who with his division was just arriving to
their assistance.

For a moment the fugitive horse and foot broke up his ranks.
But he rallied his men, and advancing, drove the Catholics out
of the village and retook the abbey. But as a whole army
was opposed to him the success was but brief. After a des-
perate struggle the village was again lost, and the Huguenots
fell back, contesting every foot of the ground, along a raised
causeway. The enemy were, however, fast outflanking them,
and they were on the point of destruction when Condé arrived
with three hundred knights with whom he had ridden forward,.
leaving the infantry to follow, as soon as Coligny’s message for
help had reached him. He himself was in no condition for
battle. His arm had been broken by a cannon shot, and just
as he reached the scene of battle his hip was fractured by the
kick of a horse ridden by his brother-in-law, La Rochefoucault;
nevertheless he did not hesitate, but calling on his little band
to follow him, rode full at a body of eight hundred of the
Catholic cavalry.

For a time the struggle was a desperate one. The Huguenots
performed prodigies of valour, but the Royalists were rein-
forced, and the devoted band melted away. One Huguenot
nobleman named La Vergne fought surrounded by twenty-five
of his kinsmen whom he brought into the field. He himself
and fifteen of his followers fell in a circle. Most of the others
were taken prisoners. At last Condé’s horse was killed under
him and fell, pinning him to the ground. Condé raised his
visor and surrendered to two knights to whom he was known.
They raised him from the ground respectfully, but as they did
so Montesquiou, captain of Anjou’s guards, rode up, and draw-
ing a pistol, shot Condé in the back, killing him almost instan-
taneously. Several other Huguenot nobles were killed in cold
blood after they had surrendered.

But Condé’s magnificent charge had not been without effect,
for it enabled the Admiral to draw off from the field without
further loss. The accounts of the number of killed and wounded
differ, but numerically it was very small. The Huguenot infantry
were not engaged at all, with the exception of a small body of
the regiment of Plupiart. But of their cavalry nearly four hun-
THE BATTLE OF JARNAC. 259

dred were killed or taken prisoners, and of these a hundred and
forty were nobles and gentlemen, the flower of the Huguenot
nobility. Among the prisoners were La Noiie, Soubise, La Loiie,
and many others of distinction,

Coligny’s retreat was not interfered with. The satisfaction
of the Catholics at the death of Condé was so great that they
were contented to rest upon their success. There were great
rejoicings throughout France and the Catholic countries of
Europe over the exaggerated accounts issued by Anjou of his
victory, and it was generally considered that the Huguenot
cause was lost. However, out of a hundred and twenty-eight
troops of cavalry only fifteen had been engaged, and only six
out of two hundred companies of infantry.

The army retired to Cognac, where the brave Queen of
Navarre at once hurried on hearing the intelligence, and her-
self addressed the army, reminding them that though the Prince
of Condé was dead the good cause was still alive, and that God
would provide fresh instruments for carrying on His work.
She then hurried away to La Rochelle to make provision for
the needs of the army. The young Prince Henry was, at
Condé’s death, nominally placed in command of the army as
general-in-chief, and he was joined by his cousin, the young
Prince of Condé, a lad of about his own age.

D’ Anjou, one of the most despicable of the princes of France,
was so intoxicated by the success that he had gained that for a
time he made no effort to follow up his advantage. He disgraced
himself by having the body of Condé stripped and carried on a
donkey to Jarnac, and there exposed for four days by the house
where he lodged, while he occupied himself in writing vain-
glorious despatches to all the Catholic kings and princes. At
last he moved forward to the siege of Cognac. Seven thousand
infantry, for the most part new levies, had been placed here by
Coligny, and these received the royal army with great determina-
tion. Not only were the assaults upon the walls repulsed with
heavy loss, but the garrison made many sallies, and after wast-
ing a month before the town, Anjou, despairing of its capture,
drew off the army, which had suffered heavier losses here
than it had done in the battle of Jarnac. He then besieged
St. Jean d’Angely, where the garrison commanded by Count
Montgomery also repulsed all attacks. Angouléme was attacked
260 ST, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

with an equal want of success, but Mucidan, a town to the south-
west of Perigueux, was captured. The attack upon it, how-
ever, cost the life of De Brissac, one of his best officers—a loss
which Anjou avenged by the murder in cold blood: of the garri-
son, which surrendered on condition that life and property
should be spared.

‘As a set-off to the success of the Huguenots, they suffered a
heavy blow in the death of the gallant D’Andelot, the Admiral’s
brother—an officer of the highest ability, who had, before the
outbreak of the troubles, occupied the rank of colonel-general of
the French infantry. His death was attributed by both parties
to poison, believed to have been administered by an emissary of
Catherine de Medici. ‘The fact, however, was not clearly estab-
lished, and possibly he fell a victim to arduous and unceasing
toil and exertion.

Both Francois de Laville and Philip Fletcher had been
severely wounded in the battle of Jarnac, and some twenty of
their troop had fallen in the fight. They were able, however,
to sit their horses until they reached Cognac. The Admiral
visited them as soon as he arrived there. He had noticed the
little band as it emerged unbroken from the charge, and at once
ranged itself up to aid him in retreating from the village of
Bassac, until Condé’s charge enabled him to draw off. He
praised the cousins highly for their conduct, and as soon as
they were able to be about again he bestowed on both the
honour of knighthood, and then sent them to La Rochelle to
remain there until perfectly cured. The vacancies in the troop
were filled up by young men from the estate, who responded
to the summons of the countess for men to take the place of
those who had fallen, in her son’s command.

The young Prince of Navarre had, while at Cognac, paid
frequent visits to Philip, for whom he had taken a great liking,
and he again begged Coligny to appoint him as one of the
knights told off as his special body-guard. The Admiral, how-
ever, repeated the arguments he had before used.

“He is very young, prince, though he has borne himself so
well, and it would create much jealousy among our young
nobles were I to choose a foreigner for so honourable a post.”

“But my councillors are all staid men, Admiral, and I want
someone I can talk to without ceremony.”
THE BATTLE OF JARNAC. 261

“There are plenty of young Frenchmen, prince. If you must
choose one why not take the Count de Laville? You were saying
but yesterday that you liked him.”

«Ves, he is something like his cousin; I think being together
has given him Philip’s manner. Tf I cannot have Philip I should
like to have him.”

“Fle would doubtless feel it a great honour, prince, while I
doubt, were I to offer the post to the young Englishman, if he
would accept it. He has not come here to seek honour, but to
fight for our faith, I had a conversation with him one day,
and found that it was with that simple purpose he came here,
and however honourable the post, I am sure he would prefer
one that gave him full opportunity for taking an active part.
With De Laville it is different. He is a French noble, and may-
be some day you will be king of France. He is of a brave and
adventurous spirit, but methinks that the young Englishman
has a greater genius for war. His cousin, although older, I
observe generally appeals to him for his opinion, and has frankly
and nobly given him the chief credit in the affairs in which he
has been engaged.”

The Admiral was not mistaken. Frangois, when asked if he
would like to be appointed as one of the gentlemen about the
prince’s person, at once embraced the offer, which, as he saw,
afforded him great openings for advancement in the future.
His only regret was that it would separate him from Philip.
When he said as much to his cousin, on informing him of the
unexpected honour that had befallen him, Philip replied at
once, “Do not think of that, Francois. I shall of course be
sorry, but I shall see you often, and you would be wrong to
refuse such an offer. The King of France has no children. His
two brothers are unmarried. Anjou is, from all accounts, reck-
less and dissolute, and Alencon is sickly. They alone stand
between Henry of Navarre and the throne of France, and
should he succeed to it his intimates will gain honours, rank,
and possessions. There is not a young noble but would feel
honoured by being selected for the post. As for fighting, no
one can say how long these troubles may last, and I am greatly
mistaken if those round Henry of Navarre, when he reaches
manhood, will not have their full share of it.”

Therefore, when the two newly-made young knights went to
262 ST, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

La Rochelle for quiet and sea-air, it was with the understanding
that as soon as their strength was thoroughly recovered Frangois
should resign the command of the troop to Philip, and would
himself ride with the Prince of Navarre and his cousin Condé.
Francois had at once written to his mother with the news
of his appointment, and a few days after they reached La
Rochelle received an answer expressing her gratification.

“T rejoice,” she said, “not only because it is a post of high
honour, but because it will take you somewhat out of the heat
of the fray. I have not hesitated to let you risk your life in the
cause; but you are my only son, and were you slain I should
be alone in the world, and the title would go to one of your
cousins, for whom I care nothing, and it will be a comfort for
me to know in the future you will not be running such fearful
risks.”

At La Rochelle they took up their abode at Maitre Bertram’s,
and were most kindly received by him and his daughter.

“It is but two years since you landed here with madame,
your mother, Monsieur Fletcher. You were but a stripling
then, though you gave wonderful promise of size and strength.
Now you are a man, and have won the honour of knighthood,
and methinks that in thew and sinew there are not many in
our army who would overmatch you.”

“Oh, yes, there are, Maitre Bertram,” Philip laughed. “Ihave
a big frame like my father’s, I will admit, and to look at it
may be as you say, but I shall want many another year over
my head before my strength matches my size. I am but just
eighteen, and men do not come to their full strength till they
are five-and-twenty.”

“You are strong enough for anything now,” the merchant
said, “and I should not like to stand a downright blow from
you in the best suit of armour ever forged. I was glad to
see that rascal Pierre come back with you. He is a merry fellow,
though I fear that he causes idleness among my servants for
all the grave looks he puts on as he waits on you at dinner.
Is he valiant?”

“He has had no great opportunity of showing valour,” Philip
replied, “but he is cool, and not easily ruffled, and he fought
stoutly in the defence of the Count de Laville’s chateau; but of
course it is not his business to ride behind me in battle.”
THE BATTLE OF JARNAC. 263

Philip had corresponded regularly with his parents, and had
received letters in reply from them, and also from his uncle and
aunt, though these of course came irregularly, as ships happened
to be sailing for La Rochelle. His father wrote but brietly, but
his letters expressed satisfaction.

“T am right glad,” he said, “to think that a Fletcher is again
cracking the skulls of Frenchmen—I mean, of course, of Catholic
Frenchmen—for I regard the Huguenots, being of our religion,
as half English. I don’t say take care of yourself, my lad—
it is not the way of Englishmen to do that on the battlefield—
but it would be a grievous day for us all here if we heard that
aught had befallen you.”

The letters of his mother and aunt were of a different char-
acter, and dwelt strongly upon the sacred cause upon which he
was engaged, and both rejoiced greatly over the number of
Huguenots he and Francois had rescued round Niort. His
uncle’s letters were more worldly.

“ Your aunt’s letters to my wife,” he said, “speak very warmly
in praise of you. She said you have distinguished yourself
highly, that you have attracted the attention of the Prince of
Condé and the Admiral, have rendered service to the Queen of
Navarre and her son, and have received tokens of their esteem ;
also that you stand high in the regard of the Count de la Noiie,
who is in all respects a most accomplished gentleman, and that
he has told her that he hopes before long you will receive the
honour of knighthood. Worldly honours, Philip, are not to
be despised, especially when they are won by worthy service,
although I know that my. wife and your mother think but
lightly of them, and that it is the fashion of those of our faith
to treat them with contempt. Such is not my opinion. Iam
gratified to think that the money I have made in trade will
descend to one of whom I can be proud, and who in this country
may occupy the position that his ancestors on his mother’s side
did in my own, and to me it will be a matter of extreme grati-
fication if I hear that you have won your spurs, especially at
the hand of so great a leader and so worthy a one as Admiral
Coligny. I promise you that there shall be feasting among the
poor of Canterbury on the day when the news comes. Of
late you have drawn but slightly upon me, for, as you say, you
have few expenses save the pay of your five men when stay-
264 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

ing at Laville; but do not stint money should there be an
occasion.”

Upon rejoining the camp Philip found the time hang some-
what heavily upon his hands. Frangois was necessarily much
with the prince. Captain Montpace looked after the troop, and
the Count de la Noiie was in captivity. A few days after he
rejoined, however, one of the Admiral’s pages came to his tent
and requested him to call upon Coligny.

“The camp will break up to-morrow, Chevalier Fletcher,” the
latter said. ‘We are going down to join the Viscounts, and then
march to effect a junction with the Duc de Deux-Ponts, who we
hear has now fairly set out. on his forward march. I wish to
send a despatch to him, and I know no one to whom I could
better intrust it than yourself. It is a mission of honour, but
of danger. However, you have already exhibited such tact and
discretion as well as bravery, that I believe if anyone can
reach the duke through the two royal armies that are trying
to intercept him you can do so. Will you undertake the
mission ?”

“TI am greatly honoured by your intrusting me with it, sir,
and will assuredly do my best.”

“TI do not propose that you should travel in disguise,” the
Admiral said, “for disguise means slow motion, and there is need
for despatch. Therefore, I should say, take a small body of
well-mounted men with you, and ride as speedily as you can.
How many to take I leave to your discretion. The despatches
will be ready for you by ten o’clock to-night.”

“T shall be ready to start at that hour, sir,” and Philip
returned to his tent. After sitting thinking for a few minutes
he called to Pierre, who was sitting outside.

“ Pierre, I want your advice. I am about to start on a journey
to the east of France. I do not go this time in disguise, but ride
straight through. What think you? how many men shall I take
with me—one or fifty?”

“Not fifty certainly,” Pierre said promptly. “There is
mighty trouble in feeding fifty men; besides, you may have to
pass as a Royalist, and who can answer for the discretion of so
many? Besides, if we have to turn and double, there is no hiding
fifty men. If you ride through the smallest village at midnight
the noise would wake the mhabitants, and when the enemy
HE BATTLE OF JARNAC. 265

came up they would get news of your passage. I do not see
that you can do better than take Eustace and Roger and myself.
Henri will not be fit to ride for weeks yet, and although Jacques
is recovering from the loss of his bridle-arm you settled that he
was to go to Laville, where the countess would take him into her
service. Jarnac lessened your force by half, but I think that
two will be as good as four on a journey like this. Such a
party can pass unnoticed. It is but a gentleman with two
retainers behind him from a neighbouring chateau.”

“That is what I concluded myself, Pierre, but I thought I
would ask your opinion about it, for you have shown yourself a
shrewd fellow. All your horses are in good condition, and it
is well that I exchanged those you rode before for some of
the best of the three hundred we captured from the assailants
of the chateau. Of course, you will ride one of my horses,
changing the saddle every day as your weight is so much less
than mine. I shall not take armour with me, the extra weight
tells heavily on a long journey; and besides, a knight in full
armour would attract more attention than one riding as it
would seem for pleasure, Let Eustace and Roger pick the two
best horses.”

“When do we start, sir?”

“We must be saddled and ready to start by ten to-night.
See that a bottle of wine, a cold fowl, and a portion of bread
for each are brought along with us. We shall have a long
night’s ride. We will carry no valises, they add to the weight
and look like travelling. Let each man make a small canvas
bag and place in it a change of linen. It can be rolled up in
the cloak and strapped behind the saddle. A dozen charges
for each pistol will be more than we shall be likely to require.
Tell them to take no more. They must take their breast-pieces
and steel caps, of course. They can leave the back-pieces be-
hind them. I will go round to the hospital and say good-bye
to Henri and Jacques, they will feel being left behind sorely.”

After visiting his wounded followers he went to the house oc-
cupied by the Prince of Navarre, where Frangois also was lodged.

“So I hear you are off again, Philip,” the latter said, as his
cousin entered the salon where two or three of the prince’s
companions were sitting. “I should feel envious of you were
it not that we also are on the point of starting.”
266 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

“How did you know I was going off, Francois?”

“The prince told me half an hour since. He heard it from
the Admiral. He told me he wished he was going with you in-
stead of with the army. He is always thirsting after adventure.
He bade me bring you in to himif youcame. I said you would
be sure to do so. It was useless my going out to look for you,
as I could not tell what you might have to do before starting.”

The young prince threw aside the book he was reading when
they entered.

“Ah, monsieur the Englishman,” he said, “so you are off
again like a veritable knight-errant of romance in search of
fresh adventure.”

“No, sir, my search will be to avoid adventure.”

“Ah, well, you are sure to find some whether or not. Sapristie,
but it is annoying to be born a prince.”

“Tt has its advantages also, sir,” Philip said smiling.

The prince laughed merrily.

“So I suppose, but for my part I have not discovered them
as yet. I must hope for the future, but it appears to me now
that it can never be pleasant. One is obliged to do this, that,
and the other because one is a prince. One always has to have
one’s head full of politics, to listen gravely to stupidities, to
put up with tiresome people, and never to have one’s own way.
in anything. However, I suppose my turn will come, but at
present I would rather be hunting the wild goats in Navarre
than pretending to be general-in-chief of an army, when every-
one knows that I am not even as free to go my own way as a
common soldier. I shall look to see you again, Chevalier
Philip, and shall expect you to have some more good stories to
tell me.”

Having handed him his despatches, the Admiral pointed
out to him the position, as far as he knew by recent report, of
the forces under the Dukes of Aumale and Nemours.

“Possibly there will be other enemies,” the Admiral said,
‘for our friends in Paris have sent me word that the Spanish
ambassador has at the king’s request written to beg the Duke
of Alva, and Mansfeld, governor of Luxembourg, to send troops
to aid in barring the way to the Duc de Deux-Ponts. I hope
Alva has his hands full with his own troubles in the Netherlands,
and although Spain is always lavish of promises it gives but
THE BATTLE OF JARNAC. 267

little real aid to the king. Then again, on the road you may
meet with bands of German mercenaries sent by the Catholic
princes to join the royal forces. As you see, the despatches are
written small, and at you first halt it will be well if you sew
them in the lining of your boot, they will escape observation
there however closely you may be searched, for they are but of
little bulk, and I have written them on the softest paper I
could obtain, so that it will not crackle to the touch.

“T leave it to youself to choose the route, but I think that
you could not do better than take that one you before followed
when you and Laville joined me at Chatillon, thence keep well
south through Lorraine. The royal forces are at Metz. I can
give you no farther instructions, for I cannot say how rapidly
Deux-Ponts may move, or what route he may be obliged to
take to avoid the royal forces. ‘And now farewell, lad. Remem-
ber that it is an important service you are rendering to our
cause and that much depends on your reaching Deux-Ponts,
for the despatches tell him the route by which I intend to move,
indicate that which he had best follow in order that he may
effect a junction, and give him many details as to roads, fords,
and bridges that may be of vital importance to him.”

Philip rode forty miles that night, and put up just as daylight
was breaking at the village of Auverge. There they rested for six
hours and then rode on to Laville, where he was received with
great joy by his aunt, for whom he bore a letter from Francois.
After halting here for a few hours they continued their journey.
So far they had been riding through a friendly country, but
had now to travel with due precautions, journeying fast, and
yet taking care that the horses should not be overworked,
as sudden occasion might arise for speed or endurance, and as
the journey was some eight hundred miles long it behoved him
to carefully husband the strength of the animals.

After riding another fifteen miles they stopped for the night at
a village, as Philip intended to journey by day, for his arrival at
inns early in the morning would excite comment. The three
men had been carefully instructed in the story they were to tell
at the inns where they halted. Their master was M. de
Vibourg, whose estate lay near the place at which they halted
on the preceding night, and who was going for a short visit to
friends at the next town at which they would arrive. If ques-
268 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

tioned as to his politics, they were to say that he held aloof
from the matter, for he considered that undue violence was
exercised towards the Huguenots, who, he believed, if per-
mitted to worship in their own way, would be good and harm-
less citizens.

So day by day they journeyed along, avoiding all large towns
and riding quietly through small ones where their appearance
attracted no attention whatever. On the fourth day, when as
usual they had halted to dine and give their horses a couple of
hours’ rest, Philip heard the trampling of horses outside the inn.
Going to the window he saw two gentlemen with eight armed
retainers dismounting at the door. The gentlemen wore the
Royalist colours. At the same moment Pierre came into the
room.

“JT have told Eustace and Roger to finish their meal quickly
and then to get the horses saddled, to mount and take ours
quietly to the end of the village and wait for us there, sir, so
that if there should be trouble we have but to leap through the
casement and make a short run of it.”

“That is very well done, Pierre,” Philip said, reseating him-
self at the table, while Pierre took his place behind his chair as
if waiting upon him. The door opened and the two gentlemen
entered. They did not as usual remove their hats, but seated
themselves at a table and began talking noisily. Presently one
made a remark in a low tone to the other, who turned round in
his chair and stared offensively at Philip. The latter continued
his meal without paying any attention to him.

“ And who may you be, young sir?” the man said, rising
and walking across the room.

“T am not in the habit of answering questions addressed to
me by strangers,” Philip said quietly.

“ Parbleu, custom or no custom, you have to answer them
now. This is not a time when men can go about unquestioned.
You do not wear the Royalist colours, and I demand to know
who you are.”

“TJ would wear the Royalist colours if I were on the way to
join the Royalist army,” Philip replied calmly; ‘as at present
I am not doing so, but am simply travelling as a private gentle-
man, I see no occasion for putting on badges.”

“You have not answered my question. Who are you?”


‘PHILIP STRUCK HIM FULL IN THE FACE.”
A HUGUENOT PRAYER-MEETING 269

“T do not intend to answer the question; my name is a mat-
ter which concerns myself only.”

“You insolent young knave,” the man said angrily, “I will
crop your ears for you.”

Philip rose from the table, and the other was for a moment
surprised at the height and proportions of one whom he had
taken for a mere lad.

“T desire to have no words with you,” Philip said; “eat your
dinner in peace and let me eat mine, for if it comes to cutting
off ears you may find that you had better have left the mat-
ter alone.”

The gentleman put his hand to the hilt of his sword and was
in the act of drawing it when Philip, making a step forward,
struck him full in the face with all his strength, knocking him
backwards to the ground. His companion leapt from his seat
drawing a pistol from his belt as he did so, when Pierre sent a
plate skimming across the room with great force. It struck the
man in the mouth, cutting his lips and knocking out some of his
front teeth. The pistol exploded harmlessly in the air, while
the sudden shock and pain staggered and silenced him, and be-
fore he could recover sufliciently to draw his sword or to shout,
Philip and Pierre leaped through the open casement and ran
down the strect.

CHAPTER XVI.
A HUGUENOT PRAYER-MEETING.

HAT was a good shot, Pierre,” Philip said as they ran,
“and has probably saved my life.”

“T am accustomed to throw straight, sir; my dinner has
frequently depended on my knocking down a bird with a stone,
and it was not often that I had to go without it. They are
making a rare hubbub back at the inn.”

Loud shouts were heard behind them.

“We have plenty of time,” Philip said as he moderated the
pace at which they had started. ‘The men will be confused
270 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

at first, knowing nothing of what it all means. Then they will
have to get the horses out of the stables.”

“ And then they will have trouble,” Pierre added.

“ What trouble, Pierre?”

“T gave a hint to Eustace,” Pierre said with a laugh, “that
it would be just as well before he mounted to cut off all the
bridles at the rings. A nice way they will be in when they
go to mount!”

“Did you cut their bridles for them, Eustace?” he asked as
they came up to the others.

“Ay, and their stirrup-leathers too, Pierre.”

“Good, indeed!” Philip exclaimed. “ Without bridles or
stirrup-leathers they can scarce make a start, and it will take
them some minutes to patch them up. We will ride hard for
a bit, that will put us far enough ahead to be able to take any
by-road and throw them off our traces. I have no fear of their
catching us by straight riding. The masters’ horses may be as
good as ours, but those of the men can hardly be so; still, they
might come up to us wherever we halted for the night.”

They looked back when they were some two miles from the
village, and along the long straight road could make out some
figures that they doubted not were horsemen just starting in
pursuit.

“They waited to mend their leathers,” Pierre remarked.

“They were right there,” Philip said; “for a man can fight
but poorly without bridle or stirrups. The horses will not
have been fed, so we have an advantage there. I do not think
we need trouble ourselves much more about them.”

“There is one thing, sir, they won’t mind foundering their
horses, and we have to be careful of ours.”

“That is so, Pierre; and besides, at the first place they come
to they may send others on in pursuit with fresh horses. No,
we must throw them off our track as soon as we can. There is
a wood a mile or so ahead; we will leave the road there.”

They were riding on the margin of turf bordering the road
on either side so as to avoid the dust that lay thick and white
upon it, and they held on at an easy canter till they reached
the trees. Then, at Philip’s order, they scattered and went at
a walk, so as to avoid leaving marks that could be seen at once
by anyone following them. A couple of hundred yards farther
A HUGUENOT PRAYER-MEETING. 271

they came upon a stream running through a wood; it was but
a few inches deep.

“This will do for us,” Philip said. ‘Now follow me in

ae file, and see that your horses step always in the water.”

e led them across the road and on for half a mile; then
they left the stream and soon afterwards emerged from the
wood and struck across the country.

“T should think they will have had pretty well enough of it
by the time they get to the wood,” Philip said, “and at any
rate will lose a lot of time there. They will trace our tracks
to the edge of the stream, and will naturally suppose that we
will follow it up as we struck it on the other side of the road.
It is like enough they will be half an hour searching before
they find where we left the stream, and will know well enough
then it will be hopeless trying to catch us.”

“They saw we had good horses,” Eustace said, “for as we
led them out one of them made the remark that they were
as good-looking a lot of horses as you would often see together.
No doubt at first their leaders were so furious that they thought
of nothing but mending the leathers and getting off; but when
they get a check in the wood it is probable that someone
will venture to tell them how well we are mounted, and that
pursuit will be hopeless.”

“Nevertheless I think they will pursue, Monsieur Philip,”
Pierre said. “They did not look like men who would swallow’
an injury and think no more of it. As long as there remains
a single chance of discovering you they will not give up pursuit.
Of course they have no reason for suspicion that you are any-
thing but what you seem to be, a gentleman of the neighbour-
hood, and will consider that at one or other of the towns
or villages ahead of us they are sure to hear of our passing
through, and perhaps to learn who you are and where you re-
side. Doubtless they asked at the inn before starting whether
you were known; and as soon as they find they are not likely
to catch us by hard riding, they will make straight forward,
dividing into several parties at the next place they come to,
and scattering in order to obtain news of us.’

“Which they will not get,” Philip said, “as we will take
good care to avoid passing “through villages, For to-night we
will sleep in the woods, as the weather is warm and pleasant.”
272 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

After riding another fifteen miles they halted in a wood.
They always carried some food and wine with them, as circum-
stances might at any time arise that would render it imprudent
for them to put up at an inn, and each also carried a feed of
corn for his horse. Leaving Pierre to unsaddle and rub down
his horse, Philip walked to the farther edge of the wood to
view the country beyond. They were, he knew, not far from
La Chatre, and he was not surprised to see the town, lying
in a valley, to which the ground sloped down from the wood.
It was about a mile and a half distant. Nearer the wood, but
half a mile to the west, the towers of a fortified chateau rose
from a clump of trees. The country was rich and well culti-
vated, and everything had an aspect of peace and comfort.

“What a hideous thing it is,” Philip said to himself, “that
in so fair a country people cannot live in peace together, and
should fly at each other’s throats simply because they cannot
agree that each shall worship God after his own fashion! It
might be Canterbury, with the hills rising round it and the
little river, save that it lacks the cathedral rising over it; and
yet I doubt not there are many there who live in daily peril of
their lives, for there is not a town in France that has not its
share of Huguenots, and they can never tell when the storm
of popular fury may burst upon them.”

The shades of evening were beginning to fall when he re-
joined his companions. They had already rubbed down their
horses and replaced the saddles, and the animals were conten-
tedly eating their corn.

“They look well,” Philip said as he walked from one to the
other.

“Yes, sir, they are none the worse for their travel so far,
and could carry us on a hard race for our lives. Shall we light
a fire?”

“T do not think it is worth while, Eustace. The evening is
warm, and we shall be off at daybreak. Someone passing
through the wood might see the flames and carry the news down
to La Chatre, which is but a mile and a half away; and it is
quite possible that those fellows we had to do with to-day may
be there if they are travelling the same way that we are, and
may consider it likely we shall halt there for the night. At
any rate, as we do not need the fire, we will run no risks.”
A HUGUENOT PRAYER-MEETING. 273

They ate their supper, and an hour later wrapped themselves
in their cloaks and lay down. Philip was just dropping off to
sleep when Pierre touched him. He sat up with a start.

“There are some people in the wood,” Pierre said.

Philip was wide awake now, and the sound of singing at no
great distance came to his ears.

“Té isa Huguenot hymn,” he exclaimed. ‘There must bea
meeting in the wood. No doubt it is some of the people from
the town who have come out to hold a secret meeting here.
I will go and see it. Come with me, Pierre. We will go very
quietly, for it would scare them terribly did they hear anyone
approaching.”

Making their way noiselessly through the wood they came,
after walking about three hundred yards, to the edge of an
open space among the trees, where they halted. In the centre
they could see in the moonlight a body of some seventy ox
eighty people gathered. Standing upon the trunk of a fallen
tree was a minister who was addressing them.

“My brethren,” he was saying when they could catch his
words, “this is the last time we shall meet here. We know
that suspicions have already arisen that we are holding
meetings, and that we do so at the peril of our lives. The
search for me has been hot for some days; and though I am
willing enough to give my life in the cause of our Lord, I would
_ not bring destruction upon you at the present moment. Were
the prospects hopeless I should say, let us continue together
here till the last; but the sky is clearing, and it may be that ere
long freedom of worship may be proclaimed throughout France,
Therefore, it is better that for a time we should abstain from
- gathering ourselves together. Even now the persecutors may
be on our track.”

“ Pierre,” Philip whispered, ‘do you go over in that direction
until you come to the edge of the wood. If you see any signs
of men moving about, run quickly to the others and bring the
horses up here.”

“T had better go back there first, had I not, Monsieur Philip?
and bring the men and horses along with me to the edge of the
wood, for I might lose a quarter of an hour in searching for
them.”

“That would be the best plan, Pierre. Should you hear a

(177), 8
274 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

sudden noise here, hurry in this direction, and I will come to
meet you. It may well be that, guessing the Huguenots would
place someone on watch towards the town, the Catholics may,
if they come, approach from the other side. Should you see
anyone coming, give a loud shout at once. It will act as a
warning to these people, and enable them to scatter and fly
before their foes arrive.”

For an hour the preacher continued to address his hearers,
exhorting them to stand firm in the faith, and to await with
patience the coming of better days.

They were not more than twenty paces away from the spot
where Philip was standing, and in the moonlight he could
clearly see the faces of the assembly, for the preacher was
standing with his back to him. From their dress he judged
that most of them belonged to the poorer classes, though three
or four were evidently bowrgevis of the well-to-do class. Seated
on the trunk on which the preacher was standing, and looking
up at him so that her profile was clearly visible to Philip, sat
a young girl whose face struck Philip as of singular beauty.
The hood of the cloak in which she was wrapped had fallen
back from her head, and her hair looked golden in the moon-
light. She was listening with rapt attention. The moonlight
glistened on a brooch which held the cloak together at her
throat. A young woman stood by her, and a man, in steel
cap and with a sword at his side, stood a pace behind her.
Philip judged that she belonged to a rank considerably above
that of the rest of the gathering. When the address had
concluded the preacher began a hymn in which all joined.
Just as they began Philip heard the crack of a stick among
the trees. It was not on the side from which Pierre would be
coming. He listened attentively, but the singing was so loud
that he could hear nothing, except that once a clash such as
would be made by a scabbard or piece of armour striking
against a bough came to his ears. Suddenly he heard a shout.

“That is Pierre!” he exclaimed to himself, and ran forward
into the circle. There was a cry of alarm, and the singing
suddenly stopped.

“T am a friend,” he exclaimed. “I have come to warn you
of danger. There are men coming in this direction from the
town.
A HUGUENOT PRAYER-MEETING, 275

“My brethren, we will separate,” the minister said calmly.
“But first I will pronounce the benediction.” This he did
solemnly, and then said: ‘Now let all make through the
wood, and, issuing from the other side, return by a circuit to
the town. Mademoiselle Claire, I will accompany you to the
chateau.”

At this moment Philip heard horses approaching.

“This way, Pierre,” he shouted, and ran to meet them.
Fifty yards away he came upon them, and leapt into his saddle.
“See to your weapons, lads,” he said; “I believe there are
others in the wood already.”

He was within twenty yards of the clearing when he heard
a sudden shout of “Down with the Huguenot dogs! Kill!
kill!” He dashed forward, followed by his men. A mob of
armed men, headed by two or three horsemen, had burst from
the opposite side of the glade, and were rushing upon the
Huguenots, who had just. broken up into small groups. They
stood as if paralysed at this sudden attack. No cry or scream
broke from the women; most of these threw themselves upon
their knees; a few of the men followed their example, and
prepared to die unresistingly. Some sprang away among the
trees, and above the din the preacher’s voice was heard com-
mencing a Huguenot hymn beginning, “The gates of heaven
are opened,” in which, without a moment’s hesitation, those
who remained around him joined.

In a moment, with savage shouts and yells, their assailants
were upon them, smiting and thrusting. With a shout Philip
spurred forward from the other side. He saw at once that
against such numbers he and his three followers could do
nothing, but his rage at this massacre of innocent people—a
scene common enough in France, but which he now for the
first time witnessed—half-maddened him. One of the horse-
men, whom he recognized at once as the man Pierre had
knocked down with the plate, rode at the girl Philip had been
watching, and who was standing with upturned face joining in
the hymn. The man attending her drew his sword, and placed
himself in the way of the horseman, but the latter cut him
down, and raised the sword to strike full at the girl, when
Philip shot him through the head. Instantly another horse-
man, with a shout of recognition, rode at him. Philip
276 ST, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

thrust his still smoking pistol in his holster, and drew his
sword.

“This is more than I hoped for,” his assailant said as he

dealt a sweeping blow at him.
_ “Do not congratulate yourself too soon,” Philip replied as
he guarded the blow, and, lunging in return, the point glided
off his adversary’s armour. He parried again, and then with
a back-handed sweep he struck his opponent on the neck with
his whole force. Coming out to take part in a Huguenot hunt,
in which he expected no opposition, the knight had left his
helmet behind him, and fell from his horse with his head
half-severed from his body. In the meantime the two men-at-
arms and Pierre had driven back the mob of townsmen, who,
however, having massacred most of the unresisting Huguenots,
were surging up round them.

“Give me your hand,:mademoiselle, and put your foot on
mine,” Philip exclaimed to the girl, who was still standing
close to him. “Pierre,” he shouted, as, bewildered by the
uproar, the girl instinctively obeyed the order, “take this
woman up behind you.” Pierre made his horse plunge and so
freed himself from those attacking him, then reining round he
rode to Philip’s side, and helped the companion of the young
lady to the croup of his saddle, Philip dashing forward to free
his two followers from their numerous assailants.

“To the left, Eustace;” and cutting their way through the
crowd the three horsemen freed themselves, and, as they dashed
off, were joined by Pierre.

“We must work back by the way we came, Monsieur Philip,”
Pierre said; “there is another body coming up in front to
cut off fugitives, and that was why I shouted to you.”

In a minute or two they were out of the wood. Men were
seen running across the fields, but these they easily avoided.

“Now turn again and make straight for La Chatre,” Philip
said, “we can cross the bridge and ride through the place with-
out danger. Those who would have interfered with us are all
behind us.”

As he had expected, the place was perfectly quiet. The
better class of the bowrgeois were all asleep, either ignorant or
disapproving of the action of the mob. As soon as they were
through the town Philip checked the speed of his horse.
A HUGUENOT PRAYER-MEETING. 277

“Mademoiselle,” he said, “I am as yet in ignorance of your
name. I am the Chevalier Philip Fletcher, an English gentle-
man fighting, for the eause of the reformed religion, under
Admiral Coligny. I am on my way east with important de-
spatches, and I was bivouacking with my three followers in
the wood when I was attracted by the singing. Judging from
the words of the minister that there was danger of an attack
I put one of my men on the watch, while I myself remained
in the wood by your meeting-place. Unfortunately the sound
of the last hymn you sang drowned the noise made by the party
that assailed you. However, happily we were in time to save
you and your servant, and our sudden appearance doubtless
enabled many to escape who would otherwise have been mas-
sacred,”

The girl had burst into a fit of sobbing as soon as the danger
was over, but she had now recovered.

“My name is Claire de Valecourt, monsieur,” she said.
“My father is with the Admiral. He will be deeply grateful
to you for saving my life.”

“T have the honour of knowing the Count de Valecourt,
mademoiselle, and am glad indeed that I have been able to
be of service to his daughter. The count is one of the gentle-
men who act as guardians to the Prince of Navarre, whom I
have also the honour of knowing. And now, what are your
wishes? It is not too late even now, should you desire it, for
me to take you back to the chateau.”

“T should be defenceless there, sir,” she said. “There are
but a score of men-at-arms, and though formerly a place of
some strength, it could not be defended now. See, sir, it is
too late already.”

Philip looked round and saw a bright light suddenly rising
from the clump of trees on which the chateau stood. He gave
an exclamation of anger.

“Té cannot be helped,” she said quietly; “it is but a small
place. It was part of my mother’s dower. Our estates, you
know, are in Provence. My father thought I should be safer
here than remaining there alone while he was away. We have
always been‘on good terms with the townspeople here, and
they did not interfere with those of our religion during the last
war, so we thought that it would be the same now; but of late
278 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

some people have been here stirring up the townsmen, and
some travelling friars preached in the market-place not long
since, upbraiding the people with their slackness in not rooting
us out altogether.

“‘A month ago one of the persecuted ministers came to the
chateau at night, and has been concealed there since. Seeing
that there will be no minister here for some time, word was
sent round secretly to those of our religion in the town, and
twice a week we have had meetings in the wood. Many of
the servants of the chateau are Catholics, and of the men-at-
arms the majority are not of our faith, therefore I used to steal
out quietly with my attendant. We heard two days ago that
a rumour of the meetings had got about, and to-night’s was to
have been the last of them.”

“And now, mademoiselle, what are your wishes? Have
you any friends with whom I could place you until you could
rejoin your father?”

“None near here, monsieur; I have always lived in the
south.”

“T should not have taken you for a lady of Provence,”
Philip said. “Your hair is fair, and you have rather the
appearance of one of my own countrywomen than of one born
in the south of France.”

“T am partly of northern blood,” she said. “My mother
was the daughter of Sir Allan Ramsay, a Scottish gentleman
who took service in France, being driven from home by the
feuds that prevailed there. I knew but little about her, for she
died when I was a child, and my father, who loved her greatly,
seldom speaks to me of her.”

Philip rode for some time in silence.

“J feel that I am a terrible burden on your hands, monsieur,”
she said quietly at last; “but I will do anything that you
think best. If you set us down we will try and find refuge in
some peasant’s hut, or we can dress ourselves as countrywomen
and try to make our way westward to La Rochelle.”

“That is not to be thought of,” he replied gravely. ‘‘ Were
it not that. my despatches may not be delayed without great
danger to our cause the matter would be of no inconvenience,
but we must ride fast and far. As to leaving you to shift for
yourselves, it is impossible; but if we could find a Huguenot
A HUGUENOT PRAYER-MEETING. 279

family with whom I could place you it would be different. But,
unfortunately, we are all strangers to the country.”

“T can ride well,” the girl said, “and, if horses could be
procured, would with my maid try to reach La Rochelle,
travelling by night, and hiding in the woods by day. We
could carry food with us, so as not to have to enter any place
to purchase it.”

Philip shook his head.

“We will halt at yonder clump of trees,” he said; “it is not
yet midnight, and then we can talk the matter over further.”

As soon as they halted he unrolled his cloak.

“Do you, mademoiselle, and your attendant lie down here.
We shall be but a short distance away, and two of us will keep
watch, therefore you can sleep without fear of surprise.”

“This is an unfortunate business, Pierre,” he said after the
latter had fastened the horses to the trees.

“T can understand that, monsieur. I have been talking to
the maid, and it seems that they have no friends in these
parts,”

“That is just it, Pierre. One thing is certain, they cannot
ride on with us. We must journey as fast as possible, and
delicate women could not support the fatigue, even were it
seemly that a young lady of good family should be galloping
all over France with a young man like myself.”

“T should not trouble about that, monsieur. At ordinary
times, doubtless, is would cause a scandal, but in days like
these, when in all parts of France there are women and: chil-
dren hiding from-the persecution or fleeing for their lives, one
cannot stand upon niceties; but doubtless, as you say, they
would hinder our speed and add to our dangers.”

“TI see but two plans, Pierre. The one is that they should
journey to La Rochelle in charge of yourself and Eustace. We
have now twice crossed the country without difficulty, and as
there would be no need of especial speed you could journey
quietly, choosing quiet and lonely places for your halts, such
as farmhouses, or groups of two or three cottages where there
is a tiny inn.”

“What is your other plan, sir?”

“The other plan is that you should start forward at once so
as to enter St. Amboise early. Stable your horse at an inn,
280 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

and order rooms, saying that you are expecting your master
and a party, who are on their way to join the army. You
might also order a meal to be cooked. Then you could
enter into conversation with stablemen and others, and find
out whether there are any castles in the neighbourhood held
for us by Huguenot lords or by their wives in their absence.
If not, if there are any Huguenot villages. In fact, try and
discover some place where we may leave the young lady in
safety. You can have three hours to make your inquiry.

“ At the end of that time, whether successful or not, say that
you are going out to meet your master and lead him to the
inn. Give the host a crown as an earnest of your return and
on account of the meal you have ordered, and then ride to meet
us. We shall start from here at daybreak. If you succeed in
hearing of some place where, as it seems, she can be bestowed in
safety, we will take her there at once. If not, youand Eustace
must start back with them, travelling slowly. The horses will
carry double easily enough. Do not forget to get a cold capon
or two, some good wine, and a supply of white bread while
you are waiting in the town.”

“Which horse shall I take, sir?”

“You had best take Robin; he is the faster of the two,
though not quite so strong as Victor.”

“T understand, monsieur, and will carry out your orders.
If there be a place within twenty miles, or within forty if lying
on the right road, where the young lady can be left in safety,
rely upon it I will hear of it, for there is nought I would not
do rather than turn back at the outset of our journey, while
you have to journey on with only Roger, who is a stout
man-at-arms enough, but would be of little use if you should
find yourself in difficulties, for his head is somewhat thick and
his wits slow.”

Robin had already finished his scanty ration of food, and
when Pierre tightened the girths before mounting looked round
in mild surprise at finding himself called upon to start for the
second time after he had thought that his work was done.

“You shall have a good feed at St. Amboise,” Pierre said,
patting its neck, “and beyond that there will be no occasion, I
hope, for such another day’s work.”

After seeing Pierre start Philip threw himself down for two
A HUGUENOT PRAYER-MEETING. 281

hours’ sleep, and then went to relieve Eustace, who was keeping
watch at the edge of a clump of trees. As soon as it was broad
daylight he went across to where Claire de Valecourt was lying
down by the side of her maid, with a cloak thrown over them.
She sat up at once as his step approached.

“T am afraid you have not had much sleep, mademoiselle.”

“No, indeed,” she said, “I have scarce closed my eyes. It
will be long before I shall sleep quietly. . That terrible scene of
last night will be before my eyes for along time. Do you think
that the minister escaped, Monsieur Fletcher?”

“T fear that he did not. I saw him cut down by the fellow
I shot just before he turned to ride at you.”

“How many do you think escaped?”

“A score perhaps, or it may be more. Some fled at once,
others I noticed make off as we rode forward.”

“Did not one of your men ride off last night soon after we
lay down?”

“Yes, I sent off my servant.” And he told her the mission
upon which Pierre had been despatched.

“That is a good plan,” she said. “I would much rather
hide anywhere than that you should go forward on your long
journey with but half your little force. Does it not seem
strange, monsieur, that while but a few hours ago I had never
so much as heard your name, now I owe my life to you, and
feel that I have to trust to you in everything? I am quite sur-
prised now I look at you; I scarce saw your face last night, and
only noticed as I sat in front of you that you seemed very big
and strong; and as you talked of what I must do, just as if you
had been my father, I have been thinking of you as a grave
man like him; now I see you are quite young, and that you
don’t look grave at all.”

Philip laughed.

“JT am young, and not very grave, mademoiselle; I am not
at all fit to be the protector of a young lady like yourself.”

“There I am sure you are wronging yourself, Monsieur
Fletcher. The Admiral would never have sent you so far with
important despatches had he not full confidence that you were
wise as well as brave. And you said you were a chevalier too.
My cousin Antoine looks ever so much older than you do, and
he has not been knighted yet. I know young gentlemen are
282 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

not made knights unless they have done something particularly
brave.”

Philip smiled.

“JT did not do anything particularly brave, mademoiselle, but
what I did do happened to attract the Admiral’s attention.
Now here are the remains of a cold capon, some bread, and
wine. You and your attendant had better eat something while
we are saddling the horses and preparing for a start.”

Four hours later they halted three miles from St. Amboise,
taking refuge in a wood near the road where they could see
Pierre as he returned. Half an hour later he rode up. Philip
went down the road to meet him.

“Well, Pierre, what success?”

“‘T have heard of a place where I think Mademoiselle de
Valecourt would be safe for the present. It is the chateau
of Monsieur de Landres. It lies some five-and-twenty miles
away, and is in the forest, at a distance from any town or large
village. Itisasmall place, butis strong. M. de Landres is with
the army in the west, but he has only taken a few. of his men
with him, and forty they say have been left to guard the tower.
As most of the Catholics round here have obeyed the king’s
summons, and are either with the royal army in the west or
with the two dukes at Metz, there seems no chance of any
attack being made upon Landres.” :

“That will do excellently, Pierre. No doubt the lady will
be happy to receive Mademoiselle de Valecourt, whose father is
a well-known nobleman and at present in the same army as
the lady’s husband. At any rate we will try that to begin
with.”

They started without delay, and riding briskly reached
Landres in four hours, having had a good deal of difficulty in
finding the way. As soon as they issued from the forests into
a cleared space, half a mile across, in the centre of which stood
the fortalice, a horn was heard to sound and the drawbridge
was at once raised. Philip saw with satisfaction that Pierre
had not been misinformed. The castle was an old one and had
not been modernized, and with its solid-looking walls and flank-
ing towers was capable of standing a siege. Halting the others
when half-way across to the tower, he rode on alone. As he
approached a lady appeared on the battlements over the gate,
A HUGUENOT PRAYER-MEETING. 283

while the parapet was occupied with armed men with spears
and cross-bows. Philip removed his cap.

“ Madame,” he said, “I am a soldier belonging to the army
of the Prince of Navarre, and am riding-on the business of
Admiral Coligny. On my way hither I had the good fortune
to save a Huguenot congregation, and the daughter of the
Count de Valecourt, from massacre by the people of La Chatre.
My business is urgent, and I am unable to turn back to conduct
her to her father, who is with the army of the prince; hearing
that you are of the reformed religion, I have ventured to crave
your protection for the young lady until I can return to fetch
her, or can notify to her father where he may send for her.”

‘The lady is welcome,” Madame de Landres said 3; “in such
times as these it is the duty of all of our religion to assist each
other, and the daughter of the Count de Valecourt, whom I
know by reputation, will be specially welcomed.”

Bowing to the lady Philip rode back to his party.

“The matter is settled, mademoiselle ; the chatelaine will be
glad to receive you.”

By the time they reached the castle the drawbridge had been
lowered, and Madame de Landres stood at the gate ready to
receive her guest. As Philip, leaping off, lifted the girl to the
ground, the lady embraced her kindly.

“I am truly glad to be able to offer you a shelter for a time.
You are young indeed to be abroad without a natural protector,
for, as I gather, this gentleman, whose name I have not yet
learned, rescued you by chance from an attack by the Catholics.”

“God sent him to my succour as by a miracle,” Claire said
simply. “The Chevalier Fletcher is known to my father. Had
he arrived but one minute later I should be one among seventy
or eighty who are now lying dead in a wood near La Chatre.
My father had a chateau close by, but it was fired after the
massacre,”

“And now, mademoiselle, with your permission and that of
Madame de Landres we will ride on at once. We must do an-
other thirty miles before sunset.”

Madame de Landres, however, insisted on Philip and his
men stopping to partake of a meal before they rode on, and
although they had breakfasted heartily four hours before upon
the provisions Pierre had brought back with him from Amboise,
984 st. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

their ride had given them an appetite, and Philip did not refuse
the invitation. Madame de Landres expressed much satisfac-
tion on hearing that the Huguenot army was likely to pass some-
where near the neighbourhood of the chateau on its way to
effect. a junction with the Duc de Deux-Ponts, and promised
to send one of her retainers with a message to the count that
his daughter was in her keeping. The meal was a short one,
and Philip after a halt of half an hour mounted and rode on
again.

“My father will thank you when you meet him, Monsieur
Fletcher; as for me I cannot tell you what I feel, but I shall
pray for you always, and that God who sent you to my aid will
watch over you in all dangers,” Claire de Valecourt had said as
she bade him good-bye.

They halted that night at a small village, and as Philip was
eating his supper Pierre came in.

“JT think, monsieur, that it would be well for us to move
on for a few miles farther.”

“Why, Pierre?’ We have done a long day’s journey, and
the horses had but a short rest last night.”

“J should like to rest just as well as the horses,” Pierre said,
“but I doubt if we should rest well here. I thought when
we drew bridle: that the landlord eyed us curiously, and that
the men who sauntered up regarded us with more attention
than they would ordinary travellers. So I told Eustace and
Roger as they led the horses to the stable to keep the saddles
on for the present, and I slipped away round to the back of the
house and got my ear close to the open window of the kitchen.
I got there just as the landlord came in saying: ‘These are
the people, wife, that we were told of three hours ago. There
are the same number of men, though they have no women with
them as I was told might be the case. Their leader is a fine-
looking young fellow, and I am sorry for him, but that I can’t
help. Iwas told that if they came here I was to send off a
messenger at once to Nevers, and that if I failed to do so my
house should be burnt over my head, and I should be hung from
the tree opposite as a traitor to the king. Who he is 1 don’t
know, but there can be no doubt he is a Huguenot, and that
he has killed two nobles. I daresay they deserved it if they
were, as the men said, engaged in what they call the good


PIERRE LISTENS AT THE OPEN WINDOW OF THE I?


ey

THE BATTLE OF MONCONTOUR. 285

work of slaying Huguenots, which is a kind of work with
which I do not hold. But that is no business of mine > Lam
not going to risk my life in the matter. Besides, if I don’t send
off it will make no difference, for they told half-a-dozen men be-
fore they started that they would give a gold crown to the first
who brought them news of the party, and it is like enough
someone has slipped off already to earn the money. So I must
make myself safe by sending off Jacques at once. The men
said that their lords had powerful friends at Nevers, and I am
not going to embroil myself with them for the sake of a
stranger.’

“*We have nothing to do with the Huguenots one way or
other,’ the woman said; ‘there are no Huguenots in this
village, and it is nothing to us what they do in other parts.
Send off Jacques if you like, and perhaps it will be best, but I
don’t want any fighting or bloodshed here.’

“T slipped away then,” continued Pierre, “as I thought the
landlord would be coming out to look for this Jacques; if it
had not been for what he said about the reward offered, and
the likelihood that others would already have started with the
news, I should have watched for the man and followed him
when he started; I don’t think he would have carried his mes-
sage far. As it was I thought it best to let you know at once,
so that we could slip out of this trap in time.”

CHAPTER XVII
THE BATTLE OF MONCONTOUR.

HEN Pierre left him in order to look after the horses,
Philip continued his meal. There could be no hurry,

for Nevers was twelve miles away, and it would be four hours
at least before a party could arrive. The landlady herself
brought in the next course, After placing the dish upon
the table she stood looking earnestly at him for a minute and
then said: “You spoke of stopping here to-night, sir; the accom-
modation is very poor, and if you will take my advice you will
286 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

ride farther. There have been some men along here this after-
noon inquiring for a party like yours, and offering a reward to
any who would carry the news to them should you pass
through. Methinks their intentions were not friendly.”

“JT thank you very much for your counsel,” Philip said,
“and ‘will take it. I know that there are some who would
gladly hinder me in my journey, and if there is, as you say, a
risk of their coming here for me, it were as well that I rode
farther, although I would gladly have given my horses a night’s
rest. I thank you warmly for having warned me.”

“Do not let my husband know that I have spoken to you,”
she said; “he is an honest man but timid, and in these days ’tis
safest not to meddle with what does not concern one.”

Philip waited for two hours, and then told Pierre to saddle
the horses and tell the landlord that he wished to speak to
him.

“T have changed my mind, landlord,” he said, “and shall
ride forward. The horses will have rested now, and can very
well do another fifteen miles, so let me have your reckoning.
You can charge for my bed-room, as doubtless it has been put
in order for me.”

Philip saw that the landlord looked pleased though he said
nothing, and in a few minutes the horses were brought round,
the bill paid, and they started. They struck off from the road
three or four miles farther, and halted in a wood which they
reached after half an hour’s riding. The grain bags had been
filled up again at the inn, but as the horses had eaten their fill
these were not opened; and after loosening the girths and ar-
ranging the order in which they should keep watch the party
threw themselves on the ground. Two hours after their ar-
rival Eustace, who was on watch, heard the distant sounds of
a body of horsemen galloping along the main road in the direc-
tion of the village they had left.

In the morning at daybreak they started again, directing their
way to the south-west and following the course of the Loire,
which they crossed at Estrée, and so entered Burgundy.
Crossing the great line of hills they came down on the Saone,
which they crossed at a ferry fifteen miles below Dijon. They
here obtained news of the position of the Duc de Deux-Ponts,
and finally rode into his camp near Vesoul. They had been
THE BATTLE OF MONCONTOUR. 287

fortunate in avoiding all questioning, it being generally as-
sumed, from their travelling without baggage, that they belonged
to the neighbourhood.

Riding into the camp they were not long in discovering an
officer who spoke French, and upon Philip saying that he was
the bearer of despatches for the Duc from Admiral Coligny
he was at once conducted to his pavilion. He had, when the
camp was in sight and all dangers at an end, taken his des-
patches from his boots, and these he at once presented to the
duke, who came to the door of his tent on hearing that a gen-
tleman had arrived with letters from Coligny himself.

“T am glad to get some news direct at last,” the Duc said,
‘‘for I have heard so many rumours since I crossed the frontier
that I know not whether the Admiral is a fugitive or at the
head of a great army. Which is nearest the truth?”

“The latter assuredly, sir. The Admiral is at the head of
as lange a body of men as that with which he offered battle to
the Duc d’Anjou when winter first set in.”

“Come in, monsieur, and sit down while I read the des-
patches. How many days have you taken in traversing
France?”

“It is the tenth day since I left La Rochelle, sir.”

‘And have you ridden the same horses the whole way?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then they must be good beasts, for you must have done
over forty miles a day.”

“We carried no baggage, sir, and, as you see, no armour, and
we have husbanded our horses’ strength to the best of our
power,”

The duke sat down and read the papers of which Philip was
the bearer.

“The Admiral speaks very highly of you, sir, both as regards
discretion and bravery, and mentions that he knighted you him-
self for your conduct in the battle of Jarnac. He need not
have said so much, for the fact that he chose you to carry
these despatches is the highest proof of his confidence. And
now tell me all particulars of your journey, and what news you
have gathered on your way as to the movement and positions
of the forces of the royal dukes. This will supplement the
Admiral’s despatches.”
288 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

Philip gave a full report of his route, of the state of the
roads, the number of cattle in the country through which he
had passed, the accounts he had heard of the forces assem-
bled in the cities, and the preparations that had been made to
guard the passages across the rivers of Burgundy.

“T will travel by the route that the Admiral indicates, so far
as I can do so undisturbed by the armies of the two French
dukes. I have with me some good guides, as many French
gentleman joined me not long since with the Prince of Orange.
I had already decided, by their advice, upon following nearly the
route commended by the Admiral. I trust that you, sir, will
ride among my friends, to whom I will introduce you this
evening at supper.”

The Duc’s army amounted to some fifteen thousand men,
of whom seven thousand five hundred were horsemen from the
states of Lower Germany, and six thousand infantry from Upper
Germany, the remaining fifteen hundred being French and
Flemish gentlemen, who had joined him with the Prince of
Orange. The armies under the French dukes were together
considerably superior in force to that of Deux-Ponts, but singly
they were not strong enough to attack him, and the mutual
jealousies of their commanders prevented their acting in concert.
Consequently the German force moved across Comté, and on
to Autun in the west of Burgundy, without meeting with any
opposition. Then they marched rapidly down. The bridges
upon the Loire were all held, but one of the French officers
who knew the country discovered a ford by which a portion of
the army crossed. The main body, laid siege to the town of
La Charité, and compelled it to surrender, thus gaining a
bridge by which they crossed the Loire.

As the enemy were now in great force in front of them they
turned to the south-west, several messengers being sent off to
appoint a fresh meeting-place with Coligny; and skirting the
hills of Bourbonais, Auvergne, and Limousin, they at last
arrived within a day’s march of Limoges, the journey of five
hundred miles through a hostile country being one of the most
remarkable in military history. That evening Admiral Coligny
and his staff rode into camp, having arrived with his army at
Limoges. The Duc had been for some time suffering from
fever, and had for the last week been carried in a litter, being
THE BATTLE OF MONCONTOUR. 289

unable to sit his horse. He was, when the Admiral arrived,
unconscious, and died the next morning, being succeeded in
his command by the Count of Mansfeldt. Next day the two
armies joined with great demonstrations of joy.

The Duc d’Anjou had been closely watching the army of
Coligny, his army being somewhat superior in force to that of
the allies, who now numbered some twenty-five thousand, for
the duke had been recently reinforced by five thousand papal
troops, and twelve hundred Florentines. A part of his force
under General Strozzi was at La Roche Abeille. They were
attacked by the Huguenots. Four hundred Royalists were
killed and many taken prisoners, among them their general.
There was for a time a pause. The court entered into fresh
negotiations with the Admiral, being anxious to delay his oper-
ations, as many of the nobles who were with the Duc D’Anjou,
wearied by the burdens imposed upon them, insisted upon re-
turning for a time to their homes.

The Huguenots were above all things anxious for peace, and
allowed themselves to be detained for nearly a month by these
negotiations. On the march down after the capture of La
Charité, the German force had passed within a few miles of the
Chateau de Landres, and Philip rode over to see whether Claire
was still there. She received him with the frank pleasure of a
girl.

““We have heard very little of what is going on outside,
Monsieur Fletcher,” Madame de Landres said, after the first
greetings were over, “though the air has been full of rumours.
Again and again reports were brought in that the duke’s army
had been entirely destroyed by the Royalist forces. Then after
a day or two we heard of it as still advancing, but in danger
hourly of being destroyed. Then came the news that every town
commanding a bridge across the Loire was being put in a state
of defence, and strong bodies of troops thrown into them, and
we heard that as soon as the Germans reached the river, and
farther advance was impossible, they would be attacked by the
armies of Nemours and Aumale. But by this time we had be-
come so accustomed to these tales that we were not much
alarmed. We were, however, surprised when we heard that a
strong body of the Germans had forded the river, and had
blockaded La Charité on this side while it had been besieged

(TTT) .
290 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE

on the other. I hear that a strong garrison has been left
there.”

“Yes, madam, the place is of great importance, as it gives
us a means of crossing the Loire at any time. We find, too,
that a large part of the population are Huguenot, and the
place will certainly be held against any attack the Royalists
may make against us.”

“The news will be received with joy, indeed, by all of our
religion in this part of France. Hitherto we have had no place
of refuge whatever. There was but the choice of dying in our
own houses or villages, or taking refuge in the woods until
hunted down. It will be to us what La Rochelle is to the
Huguenots of the west. Besides, the garrison there will make
the Catholics very chary of attacking us. Moreover, having
now this passage across the Loire it is likely that our party
will largely use it on their marches, and would be able to
punish heavily any places at which there had been massacres,
It is by this way, too, the Germans are sure to return, therefore
I feel that for a time my young charge will be perfectly safe
here. I sent off a messenger to our army on the day you left
us, but have had no reply, and know not whether he reached
it in safety. At any rate you cannot be very long before your
force joins the Admiral, and as we felt quite sure that you
would come to see us as you passed, we have our letters ready
to my husband and the Count de Valecourt. You will, I am
sure, deliver them as soon as you join the Admiral.”

“That I will assuredly do, madam. I expect that we shall
meet him near Limoges, that is the direction in which we are
now marching.”

The Count de Valecourt was one of the gentlemen who rode
into the Duc de Deux-Ponts’ camp with the Admiral, and as
soon as they dismounted, and Coligny entered the tent of the
dying general, Philip made his way to his side.

«Ah! Monsieur Fletcher, I am glad to see you again. You
accomplished, then, your journey in safety. The Prince of Na-
varre often spoke of you and wondered how you were faring.”

“T did very well, sir, but I have not thrust myself upon you
at the moment of your arrival to speak of my own journey,
but to deliver you a letter which IT have the honour of being
the bearer from your daughter.”
THE BATTLE OF MONCONTOUR. 291

The count stepped backwards a pace with a cry of astonish-
ment and pleasure. “From my daughter! Is it possible, sir?
How long is it since you saw her?”

“Tt is nigh three weeks back, sir.”

“The Lord be praised!” the count said solemnly, taking off
his cap and looking upwards. “He has shown me many mercies,
but this is the greatest. For the last two months I have
mourned her as dead. News was brought to me by one of my
retainers that she was with a congregation who were attacked
by the people of La Chatre, and that all had been massacred.
My chateau near there was attacked and burnt, and those of
the men who were Huguenots slain, save the one who brought
me the news,”

“You will see, sir, that your daughter escaped,” Philip said,
handing him the letter. ‘She is now in the safe custody of
Madame de Landres.”

The count tore open the letter, and he had read but a few
lines when he uttered an exclamation of surprise, and turn-
ing towards Philip, who had moved a few paces away, ran to
him and threw his arms round his neck.

“It is you who have, with God’s blessing, rescued my
daughter from death,” he exclaimed. “She is my only child.
Ah, monsieur, what joy have you brought to me, what thank-
fulness do I feel, how deeply am I indebted to you! I had
thought. that there remained to me but to do my duty to God
and His cause, and then if I lived to see the end of the war, to
live out my days a childless old man. Now I seem to live
again. Claire is alive; I have still something to love and care
for. I will first run through the rest of the letter, and then you
shall tell me in full all the story. But which is your tent?
Pray take me there. I would be alone a little while to thank
God for this great mercy.”

Half an hour later the count reappeared at the entrance of
the tent. Pierre had wine and refreshments ready, and plac-
ing them on a box that served-as a table retired, leaving his
master and the count together.

‘Now, tell me all about it,” the count said; “Claire’s descrip-
tion is a very vague one, and she bids me get all the details
from you. She only knows that a man on horseback rode at
her with uplifted sword. She commended her soul to God, and
292 ST, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

stood expecting the blow, when there was a pistol-shot close to
her and the man fell from his horse. Then another dashed
forward, while you on horseback threw yourself between her
and him. There was a terrible clashing of swords, and then he
too fell. Then you lifted her on to your horse, and for a short
time there was a whirl of conflict. Then you rode off with
three men, behind one of whom her maid Annette was sitting.
That is all she knows of it except what you told her yourself.”

“That is nearly all there is to know, count. The fray lasted
but two minutes in all, and my being upon the spot was due to
no forethought of mine, but was of the nature of a pure acci-
dent.”

“Nay, sir, you should not say that; you were led there by
the hand of God. But tell me how you came to be in the
wood, and pray omit nothing.”

Philip related the whole story, from the time of the incident
at the inn to the time when he handed over Claire to the care
of Madame de Landres.

“Tt was well done, sir,” the count said, laying his hand affec-
tionately on his shoulder when he concluded. ‘The young
prince said you would have a story to tell him when you came
back, but I little dreamt that it would be one in which I had
such interest. Well, Claire cannot do better than remain where
she is for the present, until at any rate I can remove her to La
Rochelle, which is the only place where she can be said to be
absolutely safe; but so long as we hold La Charité there is, as
you say, but slight fear of any fresh trouble there. From all
other parts of France we hear the same tales of cruel massacre
and executions by fire and sword.”

Francois de Laville was not with Coligny’s army, as he was
with the Prince of Navarre, who had remained near La Rochelle,
but he was very pleased to find the Count de la Noiie, who had
just rejoined the army, having been exchanged for a Royalist
officer of rank who had fallen into the hands of the Huguenots.

“You have been doing great things while I have been lying
in prison, Philip,” the count said warmly. “I hear that the
Admiral has made you and my cousin knights, and more than
that, I heard half an hour since from De Valecourt that while
carrying despatches to the Germans you had time to do a little
knight-errant’s work, and had the good fortune to save his
THE BATTLE OF MONCONTOUR. 293

daughter from being massacred by the Catholics. By my faith,
chevalier, there is no saying what you will come to if you go
on thus.”

“T don’t want to come to anything, count,” Philip said
laughing. “I came over here to fight for the Huguenot cause,
and with no thought of gaining anything for myself. I am, of
course, greatly pleased to receive the honour of knighthood, and
that at the hands of so great and noble a general as Admiral
Coligny. I have been singularly fortunate, but I owe my good
fortune in no small degree to you, for I could have had no
better introduction than to ride in your train.”

“You deserve all the credit you have obtained, Philip. You
have grasped every opportunity that was presented to you, and
have always acquitted yourself well. A young man does not
gain the esteem and approval of a Coligny, the gratitude of a
Valecourt, and the liking of all who know him, including the
Queen of Navarre and her son, unless by unusual merit. J am
proud of you as a connection, though distant, of my own, and I
sincerely trust you will, at the end of this sad business, return
home to your friends none the worse for the perils you have
gone through.”

At the end of a month the negotiations were broken off, for
the court had no real intention of granting any concessions.
The Huguenots again commenced hostilities. Two or three
strong fortresses were captured, and a force despatched south
under Count Montgomery, who joined the army of the Viscounts,
expelled the Royalists from Béarn, and restored it to the Queen
of Navarre. There was a considerable division among the
Huguenot leaders as to the best course to be taken. The Admiral
was in favour of marching north and besieging Saumur, which
would give them a free passage across the lower Loire to the
north of France, as the possession of La Charité kept open for
them a road to the west; but the majority of the leaders were
in favour of besieging Poitiers, one of the richest and most
important cities in France.

Unfortunately their opinion prevailed, and they marched
against Poitiers, of which the Count de Lude was the governor.
Before they arrived there Henry, Duke of Guise, with his
brother the Duke of Mayenne, and other officers, threw them-
selves into the town. A desperate defence was made, and
294 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

every assault by the Huguenots was repulsed with great loss.
A dam was thrown across a small river by the besieged, and its
swollen waters inundated the Huguenot camp, and their losses
at the breaches were greatly augmented by the ravages of disease.
After the siege had lasted for seven weeks the Duc d’Anjou
laid siege to Chatelherault, which the Huguenots had lately
captured, and Coligny raised the siege, which had cost him two
thousand men, and marched to its assistance.

The disaster at Poitiers was balanced to a certain extent
by a similar repulse which a force of seven thousand Catholics
had sustained at La Charité, which for four weeks success-
fully repelled every assault, the assailants being obliged at last
to draw off from the place. In Paris and other places the
murders of Huguenots were of constant occurrence, and at
Orleans two hundred and eighty who had been thrown into
prison were massacred in a single day. The Parliament of
Paris rendered itself infamous by trying the Admiral in his
absence for treason, hanging him in effigy, and offering a reward
of fifty thousand gold crowns to anyone who should murder
him.

But a serious battle was now on the eve of being fought.
The Duc d’Anjou had been largely reinforced, and his army
amounted to nine thousand cavalry and eighteen thousand
infantry, while Coligny’s army had been weakened by his losses
at Poitiers, and by the retirement of many of the nobles whose
resources could no longer bear the expense of keeping their
retainers in the field. He had now only some eleven thousand
foot and six thousand horse. He was therefore anxious to avoid
a battle until joined by Montgomery, with the six thousand
troops he had with him at Béarn. His troops from the south,
however, were impatient at the long inaction and anxious to
return home, while the Germans threatened to desert unless
they were either paid or led against the enemy. La Noite,
who commanded the advance-guard, had captured the town of
Moncontour, and the Admiral, advancing in that direction, and
ignorant that the enemy were in the neighbourhood, moved
towards the town.

When on the march the rear was attacked by a heavy body
of the enemy. De Mouy, who commanded there, held them at
bay until the rest of the Huguenot army gained the other side
THE BATTLE OF MONCONTOUR. 295

of a marsh through which they were passing, and entered the
town in safety. The Admiral would now have retreated, seeing
that the whole force of the enemy were in front of him, but
the Germans again mutinied, and the delay before they could
be pacified enabled the French army to make a detour and
overtake the Huguenots soon after they left Moncontour. The
Admiral, who commanded the left wing of the army, Count
Louis of Nassau commanding the right, first met them, and his
cavalry charged that of the Catholics, which was commanded
by the German Rhineerave, The latter rode well in advance
of his men, while Coligny was equally in front of the Protes-
tants. The two leaders therefore met. The conflict was a short
one. Coligny was severely wounded in the face and the Rhine-
grave was killed.

While the cavalry on both sides fought desperately for
victory, the infantry was speedily engaged. ‘The combat
between the Huguenot foot and the Swiss infantry in the
Royalist ranks was long and doubtful. The Due d Anjou
displayed great courage in the fight, while on the other side
the Princes of Navarre and Condé, who had that morning joined
the army from Parthenay, fought bravely in the front of the
Huguenots. ‘The Catholic line began to give way, in spite of
their superiority in numbers, when Marshal Cossé advanced
with fresh troops into the battle, and the Huguenots in turn
were driven back. The German cavalry of the Huguenots, in
spite of the valour of their leader Louis of Nassau, were seized
with a panic and fled from the field, shattering on their way the
ranks of the German infantry.

Before the latter could recover their order the Swiss infantry
poured in among them. Many threw down their arms and
shouted for quarter, while others defended themselves until
the last; but neither submission nor defence availed, and out
of the four thousand German infantry but two hundred escaped.
Three thousand of the Huguenot infantry were cut off by
Anjou’s cavalry; a thousand were killed, and the rest spared
at the Due’s command. In all two thousand Huguenot
infantry and three hundred knights perished on the field,
besides the German infantry, while on the Catholic side the
loss was but a little over five hundred men.

La Noiie was again among those taken prisoner. Before the
296 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

battle began he had requested Philip to join his cousin, who
had come up with the princes, and to attach himself to their
body-guard during the battle. They kept close to the princes
during the fight, riding far enough back for them to be seen
by the Huguenots, and closing round when the enemy
poured down upon them. When the German horsemen fled
and the infantry were enveloped by the Catholics, they led
Henri and Condé from the field, charging right through a body
of Catholic horse who had swept round to the rear, and carrying
them off to Parthenay.

Here they found the Admiral, who had been borne off the
field grievously wounded. For a moment the lion-hearted
general had felt despondency at the crushing defeat, being
sorely wounded and weakened by loss of blood, but as he was
carried off the field his litter came alongside one in which
L’Estrange, a Huguenot gentleman, also sorely wounded, was
being borne. Doubtless the Admiral’s face expressed the deep
depression of his spirit, and L’Estrange, holding out his hand
to him, said, “ Yet is God very gentle.” The words were an
echo of those which formed the mainspring of the Admiral’s
life. His face lit up, and he exclaimed, “Thanks, comrade;
truly God is merciful, and we will trust him always.” He was
much pleased when the two young princes, both unhurt, rejoined
him. He issued orders to his officers to rally their troops as
they came in, to evacuate Parthenay, and march at once to Niort.

The gallant De Mouy was appointed to command the city,
and three or four days were spent there in rallying the remains
of the army. Scarce had they reached Niort when the Queen of
Navarre arrived from La Rochelle, whence she had hastened
as soon as she had heard the news of the defeat. The presence
of this heroic woman speedily dispelled the despondency among
the Huguenots. Going about among them, and addressing
the groups of officers and soldiers, she communicated to them
her own fire and enthusiasm. Nothing was lost yet, she said;
the Germans had failed them, but their own valour had been
conspicuous, and with the blessing of God matters would soon
be restored. Already the delay of the Catholics in following
up their victory had given them time to rally, and they were
now in a position to give battle again.

Leaving a strong garrison at Niort Coligny moved with a
THE BATTLE OF MONCONTOUR. 297

portion of his army to Saintes, while the southern troops from
Dauphiné and Provence marched to Angouléme. These troops
were always difficult’ to retain long in the field, as they were
anxious for the safety of their friends at home. They now
clamoured for permission to depart, urging that the news of
the defeat of Moncontour would be the signal for fresh perse-
cutions and massacres in the south. Finally they marched
away without Coligny’s permission, and after some fighting
reached Dauphiné in safety.

In the meantime Niort had been attacked. De Mouy de-
fended the place stoutly, and sallied out and repulsed the
enemy. His bravery, however, was fatal to him. A Catholic
named Maurevel, tempted by the fifty thousand crowns that
had been offered for the assassination of Coligny, had entered
the Protestant camp, pretending that he had been badly treated
by the Guises. No opportunity for carrying out his design
against the Admiral presented itself, and he remained at Niort
with De Mouy, who, believing his protestations of attachment
for the cause, had treated him with great friendship. As the
Huguenots were returning after their successful sortie he was
riding in the rear with De Mouy, and, seizing his opportunity,
he drew a pistol and shot the Huguenot leader, mortally
wounding him. He then galloped off and rejoined the Catho-
lics, and was rewarded for the treacherous murder by receiving
from the king the order of St. Michael, and a money reward
from the city of Paris.

The garrison of Niort, disheartened at the death of their
leader, surrendered shortly after. Several other strong places
fell, and all the conquests the Protestants had made were
wrested from their hands. The battle of Moncontour was
fought on October 3d, on the 14th the southern troops
marched away, and four days later Coligny with the remains
of the army started from Saintes. He had with him but six
thousand men, of whom three thousand were cavalry. His plan
was an extremely bold one. In the first place he wished to
obtain money to pay the German horsemen by the capture of
some of the rich Catholic cities in Guyenne, to form a Junction
with the army of Montgomery, then to march across to the
Rhone, and there to meet the forces of the south, which would
by that time be ready to take the field again; then to march
298 ST, BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

north to Lorraine, there to gather in the Germans whom
William of Orange would have collected to meet him; and then
to march upon Paris, and to end the war by giving battle under
its walls. The Queen of Navarre was toremain in La Rochelle,
which city was placed under the command of La Rochefou-
cault, and the two young princes were to accompany the army,
where they were to have small commands. They would thus
become inured to the hardships of war, and would win the
affection of the soldiers.

Francois de Laville had with his own troop ridden off to his
chateau from Parthenay on the morning after the battle, Coligny
advising him to take his mother at once to La Rochelle, as the
chateau would speedily be attacked, in revenge for the sharp
repulse that the Catholics had suffered there. On his arrival
the countess at once summoned all the tenants, and invited those
who chose to accompany her, pointing out that the Catholics
would speedily ravage the land. Accordingly the next day all
the valuables in the chateau were packed up in carts, and the
place entirely abandoned. The whole of the tenants accom-
panied her, driving their herds before them, as they would
find a market for these in the city. As they moved along they
were joined by large numbers of other fugitives, as throughout
the whole country the Protestants were making for refuge to
the city.

When the Admiral marched away Philip rode with a young
French officer, for whom he had a warm friendship, named De
Piles.

The latter had been appointed governor of St. Jean d’An-
gely, which was now the sole bulwark of La Rochelle, and
he had specially requested the Admiral to appoint Philip to
accompany him.. The place was scarcely capable of defence,
and the Admiral had only decided to hold it in the hope that
the Duc d’Anjou, instead of following him with his whole
army, would wait to besiege it. This decision was, in fact,
adopted by the Royalists, after much discussion among the
leaders. Several of them wished to press on at once after
Coligny, urging that the destruction of the remnant of his
army would be a fatal blow to the Huguenot cause. The
majority, however, were of opinion that it was of more impotr-
tance to reduce La Rochelle, the Huguenots’ stronghold in the
THE BATTLE OF MONCONTOUR. 299

west, and in order to do this St. Jean d’Angely must first be
captured. Their counsel prevailed, and just as the siege of
Poitiers had proved fatal to the plans of Coligny, so that
of St. Jean d’Angely went far to neutralize all the advantages
gained by the Catholic victory at Moncontour.

Scarcely had De Piles taken the command than the army
of the Duc d@’Anjou appeared before the walls, and at once
opened fire. The garrison was a very small one, but it was
aided by the whole of the inhabitants, who were, like those
of La Rochelle, zealous Huguenots. Every assault upon
the walls was repulsed, and at night the breaches made by
the cannon during the day were repaired, the inhabitants,
even the women and children, bringing stones to the spot, and
the soldiers doing the work of building. On the 26th of Oc-
tober, after the siege had continued for a fortnight, the king
himself joined the Catholic army, and summoned the place to
surrender. De Piles replied that, although he recognized the
authority of the king, he was unable to obey his orders, as he
had been appointed to hold the city by the Prince of Navarre,
the royal governor of Guyenne, his feudal superior, and could
‘ only surrender it on receiving his orders to do so. The siege,
therefore, recommenced. The walls were so shaken that De
Piles himself, after repulsing a furious attack upon them, came
to the conclusion that the next assault would probably be suc-
cessful, and he therefore caused a breach to be made in the
wall on the other side of the town, to afford a means of retreat
for his troops. His supply of ammunition, too, was almost
exhausted.

‘What do you think, Fletcher?” he said gloomily. “If we
could but hold out for another ten days or so, the Admiral
would have got so fair a start that they would never overtake
him. But T feel sure that another twenty-four hours will see
the end of it.”

“We might gain some time,” Philip replied, “by asking for
an armistice. They probably do not know the straits to which
we are reduced, and may grant us a few days.”

“They might do so; at any rate it is worth trying,” De Piles
agreed; and an hour later Philip went with a flag of truce to
the royal camp. He was taken before the Duc @ Anjou.

“T am come with proposals from the governor,” he said.
300 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“He will not surrender the town without orders from the
Prince of Navarre. But if you will grant a fortnight’s armis-
tice, he will send a messenger to the prince; and if no answer
arrives, or if no succour reaches him at the end of that time, he
will surrender on condition that the garrison shall be permitted
to retire with their horses and arms, and that religious liberty
shall be granted to all the inhabitants.”

The Duc consulted with his generals. The losses in the
attacks had been extremely heavy, and disease was raging in
the army, and, to Philip’s inward surprise and delight, an
answer was made that the conditions would be granted, but
that only ten days would be given. He returned with the
answer to De Piles, and the armistice was at once agreed
upon, six hostages for its proper observance being given on
both sides. On the ninth day Saint Surin, with forty horse-
men, dashed through the enemy’s lines and rode into the town,
thus relieving De Piles from the necessity of surrendering.
The hostages were returned on both sides and the siege recom-
menced.

Attack after attack was repulsed with heavy loss, several of
the bravest royalist officers, among them the governor of Brit-
tany, being killed. The town was valiantly defended until the
2d of December, when De Piles, satisfied with having detained
the royal army seven weeks before the walls, and seeing no
hope of relief, surrendered on the same conditions that had
before been agreed on. Its capture had cost the Duc d’Anjou
6000 men, about half of whom had fallen by disease, the rest
in the assaults, and the delay had entirely defeated the object
of the campaign. The gates were opened and the little body of
defenders marched out with colours flying. One of the con-
ditions of surrender had been that they should not serve again
during the war.

The Duc d’Aumale and other officers endeavoured to ensure
the observance of the condition of their safe conduct through
the Catholic lines; but the soldiers, furious at seeing the handful
of men who had inflicted such loss upon them going off in
safety, attacked them, and nearly a hundred were killed—-a
number equal to the loss they had suffered throughout the
whole siege. De Piles with the rest were, by their own exer-
tions and those of some of the Catholic leaders, enabled to
THE BATTLE OF MONCONTOUR 301

make their way through, and rode to Angouléme. There
De Piles sent ‘a letter demanding the severe punishment of
those who had broken the terms of the surrender, but no
attention having been paid to his demand, he sent a herald to
the king to declare that, in consequence of the breach of the
conditions, he and those with him considered themselves ab-
solved from their undertaking not to carry arms during the
war, and he then rode away with his followers to join the
Admiral.

The French army rapidly fell to pieces. With winter at hand
it was in vain to attempt the siege of La Rochelle. Philip of
Spain and the pope ordered the troops they had supplied to
return home, alleging that the victory of Moncontour, of which
they had received the most exaggerated reports, had virtually
terminated the war. The German and Swiss troops were
allowed to leave the service, and the nobles and their retainers
were granted permission to do the same until the spring. Thus
the whole fruits of the victory of Moncontour were annihilated
by the heroic defence of St. Jean d’Angely.

In the meantime the Admiral had been moving south. In
order to cross the rivers he had marched westward, and so made
a circuit to Montauban, the stronghold of the Huguenots in the
south. Moving westward he joined the Count of Montgomery
at Aiguillon, and returned with him to Montauban, where he
received many reinforcements until his army amounted to some
twenty-one thousand men, of whom six thousand were cavalry.
At the end of January they marched to Toulouse, a city with
an evil fame as the centre of persecuting bigotry in the south
of France. It was too strong to be attacked; but the country
round it was ravaged, and all the country residences of the
members of its parliament destroyed. Then they marched
westward to Nismes, sending marauding expeditions into the
Catholic districts, and even into Spain, in revenge for the
assistance the king had given the Catholics. De Piles and his
party had joined the Admiral at Montauban, and the former
commanded the force that penetrated into Spain. Coligny
turned north, marched up the Rhone, surmounting every
obstacle of mountain and river until he reached Burgundy,
arriving at St. Etienne-sur-Loire on the 26th of May.

Here they were met by messengers from the court, which
302 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

was in a state of consternation at the steady approach of an
enemy they had regarded as crushed, and were ready in their
alarm to promise anything. The Admiral fell dangerously ill,
and at the news the king at once broke off the negotiations.
He recovered, however, and advancing met the royal army,
under Marshal Cossé, in the neighbourhood of the town of
Arnay de Duc. Coligny’s army had dwindled away during its
terrible march, and it consisted now of only two thousand
horsemen and two thousand five hundred arquebusiers, the
cannon being all left behind. Cossé had ten thousand in-
fantry, of whom four thousand were Swiss; three thousand
cavalry, and twelve cannon. The armies took post on the hills
on opposite sides of a valley through which ran a stream fed
by some small ponds. The Royalists commenced the attack,
but after fighting obstinately for seven hours were compelled
to fall back with heavy loss. A fresh body was then directed
against an intrenchment the Huguenots had thrown up near
the ponds. Here again the fighting was long and obstinate,
but at last the Catholics were repulsed.

The next morning both armies drew up in order of battle;
but neither would advance to the attack, as the ground offered
such advantages to those who stood on the defensive, and they
accordingly returned to their camps. The Admiral being un-
willing to fight till he received reinforcements marched away
to La Charité, where he was reorganizing his force when a
truce of ten days was made. At the end of that time he
again marched north, and distributing his soldiers in the neigh-
bourhood of Montargis took up his quarters at his castle of
Chatillon-sur-Loing, where he remained while negotiations
were going on.

CHAPTER XVIII.
A VISIT HOME.
\ HILE Coligny had been accomplishing his wonderful

march round France, La Noiie, who had been exchanged
for Strozzi, had betaken himself to La Rochelle. He forced
A VISIT HOME 303

the Catholics, who were still languidly blockading that place, to
fall back, defeated them near Lucon, and recaptured Fontenay,
Niort, the Isle of Oléron, Brouage, and Saintes. At Fontenay,
however, the brave Huguenot leader had his left arm broken,
and was obliged to have it amputated.

Negotiations were now being carried on in earnest. Charles
IX. was weary of a war that impoverished the state, diminished
his revenues, and forced him to rely upon the Guises, whom
he feared and disliked. Over and over again he had been
assured that the war was practically at an end and the Hugue-
nots crushed, but as often fresh armies rose. The cities that
had been taken with so much difficulty had again fallen into
their hands, and Paris itself was menaced.

The princes of Germany wrote begging him to make peace,
and although the terms fell far short of what the Huguenots
hoped and desired, the concessions were large, and could they
have depended upon the good faith of the court their lives would
have at least been tolerable. A complete amnesty was granted,
and a royal command issued that the Protestants were to be
exposed to neither insults nor recriminations, and were to be
at liberty to profess their faith openly. Freedom of worship
was, however, restricted within very small proportions. The
nobles of high rank were permitted to name a place belonging
to them where religious services could be performed. As long
as they or their families were present these services could be
attended by all persons in their jurisdiction.

Other nobles were allowed to have services, but only for
their families and friends, not exceeding twelve in number.
Twenty-four towns were named, two in each of the principal
provinces, in which Protestant services were allowed, the privi-
lege being extended to all the towns of which the Huguenots had
possession at the signature of the truce. All property, honours,
and offices were restored, and judicial decisions against their
holders annulled. The four towns, La Rochelle, Montauban,
Cognac, and La Charité, were for two years to remain in the
hands of the Huguenots to serve as places of refuge. The edict
in which the king promulgated the terms of peace stated the
conditions to be perpetual and irrevocable. The Huguenots
had the more hope that the peace would be preserved, since
Montmorency, who was an opponent of the Guises, and had
304 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

done his best to bring about peace, was high in favour with the
king, and, indeed, held the chief power in France.

There can be little doubt that at the time the king was in
earnest. He ordered the parliament of Paris to annul a decla-
ration they had made declaring the Cardinal Chatillon, the
Admiral’s brother, deprived of his bishopric, and as it hesitated,
he ordered its president to bring the records to him, and with
his own hand tore out the pages upon which the proceedings
were entered. :

The priests throughout France threw every obstacle in the
way of the recognition of the edict, and in several places there
were popular disturbances and wholesale massacres. Paris, as
usual, set the example of turbulence and bigotry.

As soon as the peace was concluded Philip prepared to return
for a while to England. In the three years which had elapsed
since he left home he had greatly changed. He had been a
lad of sixteen when he landed in France, he was now a tall
powerful young fellow. Although still scarcely beyond the age
of boyhood, he had acquired the bearing and manners of a man.
He stood high in the confidence of Coligny and the other
Huguenot leaders, was a special favourite with the young
Prince of Navarre and his cousin Condé, and had received the
honour of knighthood at the hands of one of the greatest
captains of his age.

“You had better stay, Philip,” his cousin urged. “ You may
be sure that this peace will be as hollow as those which preceded
it. There will never be a lasting one until we have taken Paris,
and taught the bloodthirsty mob there that it is not only women
and children who profess the reformed religion but men who
have swords in their hands and can use them.”

“Tf the troubles break out again I shall hasten back, Francois;
indeed, I think that in any case I shall return for a while ere
long. Ido not see what I could do at home. My good uncle
Gaspard has been purchasing land for me, but I am too young
to play the country gentleman.”

“ Nonsense, Philip. There have been plenty of young nobles
in our ranks, who, if your seniors in years, look no older than
you do, and are greatly your inferiors in strength. They are
feudal lords on their estates, and none deem them too young.”

‘Because they have always been feudal nobles, Francois. I go
A VISIT HOME. 305

back to a place where I was, but three years ago, a boy at school.
My comrades there are scarcely grown out of boyhood. It will
seem to them ridiculous that I should return Sir Philip Fletcher,
and were I to set up as a country squire they would laugh in
my face. Until I am at least of age I should not dream of this,
and five-and-twenty would indeed be quite time for me to settle
down there. Here it is altogether different. I was introduced
as your cousin, and as a son of one of noble French family, and to
our friends here it is no more remarkable that I should ride
behind Coligny and talk with the princes of Navarre and Condé
than that you should do so. But at home it would be different;
and I am sure that my father and mother, my uncle and aunt
will agree with me that it is best I should not settle down
yet. ‘Therefore, I propose in any case to return soon. I agree
with you there will be troubles again here before long. If not,
there is likely enough to be war with Spain, for they say Philip
is furious at toleration having been granted to the Huguenots;
and in that case there will be opportunities for us, and it will
be much pleasanter fighting against Spaniards than against
Frenchmen. If there are neither fresh troubles here nor war
with Spain I shall go and join the Dutch in their struggle against
the Spaniards. Prince Louis of Nassau told me that he would
willingly have me to ride behind him, and the Prince of Orange,
to whom the Admiral presented me, also spoke very kindly.
They, like you, are fighting for the reformed faith and freedom
of worship, and cruel as are the persecutions you have suffered
France, they are as nothing to the wholesale massacres by
va.

“Tn that case, Philip, I will not try to detain you; but at
any rate wait a few months before you take service in Holland,
and pay us another visit before you decide upon doing so.”

Philip journeyed quietly across the north of France, and took
passage to Dover for himself and his horses. Pierre accom-
panied him, taking it so greatly to heart when he spoke of leav-
ing him behind that Philip consented to keep him, feeling,
indeed, greatly loath to part from one who had for three years
served him so well. The two men-at-arms were transferred to
Francois’ troop, both being promised that if Philip rode to the
wars again in France they and their comrades now at Laville
should accompany him. From Dover Philip rode to Canter-

(777 U
306 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

bury. He saw in the streets he passed through many faces
he knew, among them some of his former schoolfellows, and
he wondered to himself that these were so little changed while
he was so altered that none recognized in the handsomely-
dressed young cavalier the lad they had known, although several
stopped to look at and remark on the splendid horses ridden by
the gentleman and his attendant. He drew rein in front of
Gaspard Vaillant’s large establishment, and dismounting, gave
his reins to Pierre and entered. He passed straight through
the shop into the merchant’s counting-house.

Gaspard looked up in surprise at the entry of a gentleman
unannounced, looked hard at his visitor and then uttered his
name, and rushing forward embraced him warmly.

‘‘I can hardly believe it is you,” he exclaimed, holding
Philip at arm’s-length and gazing up in his face. “Why, you
have grown a veritable giant, and as fine a man as your father
was when I first knew him; and you have returned Sir Philip,
too. I don’t know that I was ever so pleased as when you sent
me the news. I gave a holiday to all the workmen and we
had a great féte. But of course you cannot stop now, you
will be wanting to go up to your father and mother. Run
upstairs and embrace Marie. We will not keep you at present,
but in an hour we will be up with you.”

In a minute or two Philip ran down again.

“ Pardieu, but you are well mounted, Philip,” the merchant
said as he sprang into the saddle. “These are the two horses,
I suppose, you told us about in your letters. And is this Pierre,
who saved your life when you were captured at Agen?”

“And a good many other times, uncle, by always managing
to get hold of a fat pullet when we were pretty near starving.
I was always afraid that sooner or later I should lose him, and
that I should find him some morning or other dangling from
a tree to which the prevost-marshal had strung him up.”

‘Then I shall see you in an hour.” And Philip galloped
off to the farm.

The delight of Philip’s parents as he rode up to the house
was great indeed. Philip saw before he had been at home an
hour that they were animated by somewhat different feelings.
His mother was full of gratitude at his preservation through
many dangers, and was glad that he had been able to do some


GASPARD VAILLANT GETS A SURPRISE,
A VISIT HOME, 307

service to her persecuted co-religionists—the fact that he had
won great personal credit and had received the honour of
knighthood at the hands of Coligny himself weighed as nothing
in her eyes. It was otherwise with his father ; he was very
proud that his boy had turned out a worthy descendant of the
fighting Kentish stock, and that he had shown, in half-a-dozen
fichts against heavy odds, a courage as staunch as that which
his forefathers had exhibited at Cressy, Poitiers, and Agin-
court.

“Good blood tells, my boy,” he said; ‘and you must have
shown them a rare sample of what an Englishman can do, be-
fore they knighted you. I would rather you had won it in an
English battle, but all admit that there is no more capable chief
in Europe than the Huguenot Admiral. Certainly there are
no English commanders of fame or repute to compare with
hin, though if we ever get to blows with the Spanish we shall
soon find men, I warrant me, who will match the best of them.
There was a deal of talk in Canterbury, I can tell you, when
the news came home, and many refugees who came through
the town declared that they had heard 3 your name among those
of the nobles who rode with the Admiral and the brave La
Noiie; indeed, there are two families settled here who fled from
Niort, and these have told how you and your cousin saved
them from the Catholics.

“T warrant you they have told the tale often enough since
they have come here, and it has made quite a stir in Canter-
bury, and there is not a week passes without some of your old
school friends, who used to come up here with you, running up
to ask the last news of you and to hear your letters read; and
it has been a pleasure to me to read them, lad, and to see how
they opened their eyes when they heard that the Queen of
Navarre and her son had given you presents, and that you
often rode with the young prince and his cousin Condé. You
have changed, Philip, mightily; not in your face, for I see but
little alteration there, but in your manner and air. The boys
did not seem to understand how you, whom they looked on as
one of themselves, could be riding to battle with nobles and
talking with princes, but I think they will understand better
when ‘they see you. You look almost too fine for such simple
people as we are, Philip, though I do not say your clothes
308 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

are not of sombre hues, as might be expected from one fighting
in the Huguenot ranks.”

“Tam sure, father,” Philip laughed, “there is nothing fine
about me. I have gained knighthood, it is true; but a poorer
knight never sat in saddle, seeing that I have neither a square
yard of land nor a penny piece of my own, owing everything
to the kindness of my good uncle and yourself.”

“I must go out to-morrow morning, Philip, and look at those
horses of yours, they must be rare beasts from what you say of
them.”

“That are they, father. Methinks I like the one I bought
at Rochelle even better than that which the Queen of Navarre
bestowed upon me; but I grieved sorely over the death of
Victor, the horse Francois gave me. I was riding him at the
fight of Moncontour, and he was shot through the head with a
ball from a German arquebus.”

Pierre had, as soon as they arrived, been welcomed and made
much of by Philip’s mother, and was speedily seated in the
post of honov+ in the kitchen, where he astonished the French
servants with tales of his master’s adventures, with many sur-
prising additions which had but slight basis of fact. Gaspard.
Vaillant and his wife thought that Philip’s parents would like
to have him for a time to themselves, and did not come up for
two or three hours after he had arrived.

“You will admit, John, that my plan has acted rarely,” the
merchant said when he was seated, “and that, as I prophesied,
it has made a man of him. What would he have been if he
had stayed here?”

“He would, I hope, brother Gaspard,” Lucie said gravely,
“have been what he is now—a gentleman.”

‘No doubt, Lucie, he promised as much as that before he
went, but he is more than that now. He has been the com-
panion of nobles and has held his own with them, and if
he should go to court now he would do honour to your family
and his though he rubbed shoulders with the best of them.
And now, what are you thinking of doing next, Philip? You
will hardly care to settle down among us here after such a. life
as you have led for the last three years.”

Philip repeated the views he had expressed to Frangois de
Laville. and his plans were warmly approved by his uncle and
A VISIT HOME. 309

father, though his mother folded her hands and shook her head
sadly.

“The lad is right, Lucie,” the merchant said; “he is lord
now of the Holford estates—for the deeds are completed and
signed, Philip, making them over to you. But I agree heartily
with your feeling that you are too young yet to assume their
mastership. I have a good steward there looking after things,
seeing that all goes well, and that the house is kept in order.
But it is best, as you say, that a few years should pass before
you go to reside there. We need not settle for a time whether
you shall return to France or go to see service with those sturdy
Dutchmen against the Spaniards. But I should say that it is
best you should go where you have already made a name and
gained many friends, There is no saying yet how matters will
go there,

“Charles is but a puppet in the hands of Catherine de
Medici; and with the pope, and Philip of Spain, and the Guises
always pushing her on, she will in time persuade the king, who
at present earnestly wishes for peace, to take fresh measures
against the Huguenots. She is never happy unless she is
scheming, and you will see she will not be long before she
begins to make trouble again.”

The news spread quickly through Canterbury that Philip
Fletcher had returned, and the next day many of his old friends
came up to see him. At first they were a little awed by the
change that had come over him, and one or two of them even
addressed him as Sir Philip. But the shout of laughter with
which he received this well-meant respect showed them that
he was their old school-fellow still, and soon set them at their
ease with him.

“We didn’t think, Philip,” one of them said, “when you
used to take the lead in our fights with the boys of the town,
that you would be so soon fighting in earnest in France, and
that in three years you would have gained knighthood.”

“TI did not think so myself, Archer. You used to call me
Frenchie, you know, but I did not think at the time that I was
likely ever to see France. I should like to have had my old
band behind me in some of the fights we had there. I warrant
you would have given as hard knocks as you got, and would
have held your own there as well as you did many a time in the
310 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE

fights in the Cloisters. Let us go and lie down under the shade
of that tree there, it used to be our favourite bank, you know, in
hot weather, and you shall ask as manyquestions as you like,
and I will answer as best I can.”

“And be sure, Philip, to bring all your friends in to supper,”
John Fletcher said; “I warrant your mother will find plenty
for them to eat. She never used to have any difficulty about
that in the old times, and I don’t suppose their appetites are
sharper now than they were then.”

Philip spent six months at home.
return many of the country gentry, who had not known
John Fletcher, called on Philip as one who had achieved a
reputation that did honour to the county—for every detail of
the Huguenot struggle had been closely followed in England.
and more than one report had been brought over by emigrés of
the bravery of a young Englishman who was held in marked
consideration by Admiral Coligny, and had won a name for
himself even among the nobles and gentlemen who rode with
that dashing officer De La Noiie, whose fame was second only
to that of the Admiral. Walsingham, the English ambassador
at Paris, had heard of him from La Noiie himself when he
was a prisoner there, and mentioned him in one of his
despatches, saying that it was this gentleman who had been
chosen by Coligny to carry important despatches both to the
Queen of Navarre and the Duc de Deux-Ponts, and had suc-
ceeded admirably in both these perilous missions; and that he had
received knighthood at the hands of the Admiral for the valour
with which he had covered the retreat at the battle of Jarnac.

Philip was at first disposed to meet these advances coldly.

“They have not recognized you or my mother, father, as
being of their own rank.”

“Nor have we been, Philip. I am but a petty land-owner,
while it is already known that you are the owner of a consider-
able estate, and have gained consideration and credit, and as a
knight have right to precedence over many of them. If you
had intended to settle in France you could do as you like as
to accepting their courtesies; but as it is, it is as well that you
should make the acquaintance of those with whom you will
naturally associate when you take up your residence on the
estate your uncle has bought for you.
A VISIT HOME. 311

‘Had your mother and I a grievance against them it might
be different; but we have none. We Fletchers have been yeo-
_ men here for many generations. In our own rank we esteem
ourselves as good as the best, but we never thought of pushing
ourselves out of our own station; and in the ordinary course of
things you would have lived and died as your fathers have
done. The change has come about first through my marrying
a French wife of noble blood, though with but a small share of
this world’s goods; secondly through her sister’s husband making
a large fortune in trade and adopting you as his heir; and
thirdly, through your going out to your mother’s relations and
distinguishing yourself in the war. Thus you stand in an
altogether different position to that which I held. You are
a man with an estate; you are noble on your mother’s side ;
you are a knight, and have gained the approval of great cap-
tains and princes. Therefore it is only meet and right that
you should take your place among the gentry; and it would
be not only churlish to refuse to accept their civilities now,
but altogether in opposition to the course which your uncle
planned for you.”

Philip therefore accepted the civilities offered to him, and
was invited to entertainments at many of the great houses in
that part of the county; where indeed he was made a good
deal of, his fine figure, the ease and courtesy of his bearing,
and the reputation he had gained for bravery, rendering him
a general favourite.

At the end of six months he received a letter from his cousin
urging him to return. “Spring has now begun, Philip. At
present things are going on quietly, and the king seems
determined that the peace shall be kept. The Constable
Montmorency is still very high in favour, and the Guises are
sulking on their estates. The Huguenot nobles are all well
received at court, where they go in numbers, to pay their
respect to the king and to assure him of their devotion. I have
been there with my mother, and the king was mightily civil
and congratulated me on having been knighted by Coligny.
We were present at his majesty’s marriage with the daughter
of the Emperor of Germany. “The show was a very fine one
and everything pleasant.

“There is a report that, in order to put an end to all further
312 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

troubles, and to bind both parties in friendship, the king has
proposed a marriage between his sister Marguerite and Henry
of Navarre. We all trust that it will take place, for it will
indeed be a grand thing for us of the reformed faith. It is
rumoured that Queen Jeanne is by no means eager for the
match, fearing that Henry, once at Paris, will abandon the
simple customs in which he has been brought up, and may even
be led away by the influence of Marguerite and the court to
abandon his faith. Her first fear, I think, is likely enough to
be realized; for it seems to me that he has been brought up
somewhat too strictly, and being, I am sure, naturally fond of
pleasure, he is likely enough to share in the gaieties of the court
of Paris. As to her other fear, I cannot think there is founda-
tion for it. Henry is certainly ambitious and very politic, and
he has talked often and freely with me when we have been
alone together. He has spoken once or twice of his chances of
succeeding to the throne of France. They are not great, seeing
that three lives stand between it and him, and now that the
king has married they are more remote than before.

“Still there is the chance; and he once said to me, ‘One
thing seems to me to be certain, Francois: supposing Charles of
Valois and his two brothers died without leaving heirs, France
would not accept a Huguenot king. There would be the Guises,
and the priests, and the papacy, and Spain all thrown in the
scale against him.’ ‘That is likely enough, prince,’ I said;
‘and methinks your lot would be preferable as King of Navarre
to that of King of France. However, happily there is no reason
for supposing that the king and his two brothers will die with-
out heirs.’ He did not speak for some time, but sat there think-
ing. You know the way he has. Methinks, Philip, that when
he comes to man’s estate, and is King of Navarre, the Guises
will find in him a very different opponent to deal with than
the leaders of the Huguenots have been so far.

“The Admiral is so honest and loyal and truthful himself
that he is ill fitted to match the subtlety of the queen-mother
or the deceit and falsehood of the Guises. The Queen of Na-
varre is a heroine and a saint, but although a wise woman, she
is no match for intriguers. Condé was a gallant soldier, but
he hated politics. Henry of Navarre will be an opponent of
another sort. When I first knew him I thought him the frankest
A VISIT HOME, 313

and simplest of young princes, and that is what most think
him still. But I am sure he is much more than that. Having
been about his person for months, and being the youngest of
his companions—most of whom were stern, earnest Huguenot
nobles—he was a great deal with me, and talked with me as
he did not with the others. It seems to me that he has two
characters, the one what he seems to be—light-hearted, merry,
straightforward, and outspoken; the other thoughtful, astute,
ambitious, and politic, studying men closely and adapting him-
self to their moods.

“I don’t pretend to understand him at all—he is altogether
beyond me; but I am sure he will be a great leader some day.
I think you would understand him better than I should, and
I know he thinks so too. Of course you had your own duties
all through the campaign and saw but little of him, but more
than once he said: ‘I wish I had your English cousin with me.
I like you much, Laville; but your cousin is more like myself,
and I should learn much of him. You are brave and merry
and good-tempered, and so is he; but he has a longer head than
you have,—which I know is quite true—‘you would be quite
content to spend your life at court, Francois, where you would
make a good figure and would take things as they come. He
would not. If he did not like things he would intrigue, he
would look below the surface, he would join a party, he would
be capable of waiting, biding his time. I am only seventeen,
Frangois; but it is of all things the most important for a prince
to learn to read men and to study their characters, and I am
getting on.

«Your cousin is not ambitious, he would never conspire for
his own advantage; but he would be an invaluable minister and
adviser to a prince in difficulties. The Admiral meant well,
but he was wrong in refusing to let me have Philip Fletcher.
When I am my own master I will have him if I can catch him;
but I do not suppose that I shall, because of that very fault of
not being ambitious. He has made his own plans, and is bent,
as he told me, on returning to England, and nothing that I
can offer him will, I am sure, alter his determination. But
it is a pity, a great pity.’ By all this you see, Philip, that
those who think the Prince of Navarre merely a merry, care-
less young fellow, who is likely to rule his little kingdom in
314 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

patriarchal fashion, and to trouble himself with nothing outside
so long as his subjects are contented and allowed to worship in
their own way, are likely to find themselves sorely mistaken.
However, if you come over soon, you will be able to judge for
yourself,

“The Queen of Navarre saw a great deal of the countess,
my mother, when they were at La Rochelle together, and has
invited her to pay her a visit at Béarn, and the prince has
requested me to accompany her. Of course if you come over
you will go with us, and will be sure of a hearty welcome from
Henry. We shall have some good hunting, and there is no
court grandeur, and certainly no more state than we have at our
chateau. In fact, my good mother is a much more important
personage there than is Jeanne of Navarre at Béarn.”

This letter hastened Philip’s departure. The prospect of
hunting in the mountains of Navarre was a pleasant one. He
liked the young prince, and had, in the short time he had been
his companion, perceived that there was much more in him
than appeared on the surface, and that, beside his frank bon-
homie manner, there was a fund of shrewdness and common
sense, Moreover, without being ambitious, it is pleasant for a
young man to know that one who may some day be a great
prince has conceived a good opinion of him. He took F rangois’
letter down: to his uncle Gaspard and read portions of it to
him. Gaspard sat thoughtful for some time after he had
finished.

“It is new to me,” he said at last. “TI believed the general
report that Henry of Navarre was a frank, careless young fellow,
fond of the chase, and, like his mother, averse to all court cere-
mony; likely enough to make a good soldier, but without ambi-
tion and without marked talent. If what Francois says is true
—and it seems that you are inclined to agree with him—it may
make a great difference in the future of France. The misfor-
tune of the Huguenots hitherto has been that they have been
ready to fall into any trap that the court of France might set
for them, and on the strength of a few hollow promises to
throw away all the advantages they had gained by their efforts
and courage, in spite of their experience that those promises
were always broken as soon as they laid down their arms.

“In such an unequal contest they must always be worsted,
A VISIT HOME. 315

and honest and straightforward themselves, they are no match
for men who have neither truth nor conscience. If they had
but a leader as politic and astute as the queen-mother and the
Guises, they might possibly gain their ends. If Henry of Navarre
turns out a wise and politic prince, ready to match his foes
with their own weapons, he may win for the Huguenots what
they will never gain with their own swords. But mind you,
they will hardly thank him for it. My wife and your mother
would be horrified were I to say that, as a Catholic, Henry of
Navarre would be able to do vastly more to heal the long open
sore and to secure freedom of worship for the Huguenots than
he ever could do as a Huguenot. Indeed, I quite agree with
what he says, that as a Huguenot he can never hold the throne
of France.”

Philip uttered an exclamation of indignation.

“You cannot. think, uncle, that he will ever change his reli-
gion?”

“T know nothing about him beyond what you and your
cousin say, Philip. There are Huguenots and Huguenots.
There are men who would die at the stake rather than give
up one iota of their faith; there are men who think that the
Reformed faith is better and purer than the Catholic, but who
nevertheless would be willing to make considerable concessions
in the interest of peace. You must remember that when princes
and princesses marry they generally embrace the faith of their
husbands, and when lately Queen Elizabeth was talking of
marrying the Prince of Anjou, she made it one of the condi-
tions that he should turn Protestant, and the demand was not
considered to be insurmountable. It may be that the time
will come when Henry of Navarre may consider the throne of
France, freedom of worship, and a general peace, cheaply pur-
chased at the cost of attending mass. If he does so, doubtless
the Huguenots would be grieved and indignant, but so far as
they are concerned it would be the best thing. But of course
we are only talking now of what he might do should nought
but his religion stand between him and the throne of France.
As King of Navarre simply his interest would be all the other
way, and he would doubtless remain a staunch Huguenot. Of
course, Philip, I am speaking without knowing this young
prince. I am simply arguing as to what an astute and politic
316 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

man in his position, not over-earnest as to matters of faith,
would be likely to do.”

Three days later Philip rode to London with Pierre and
embarked for La Rochelle. His uncle had amply supplied
him with funds, but his father insisted upon his taking a hand-
some sum from him.

“ Although you did not require much money before, Philip
—and Gaspard told me that you did not draw from his agent
at La Rochelle a third of the sum he had placed for you in
his hands—it will be different now. You had no expenses
before save the pay of your men and the cost of their food
and your own, but in time of peace there are many expenses,
and I would not that you should be in any way short of money.
You can place the greater portion of it in the hands of Maitre
Bertram, and draw it as you require. At anyrate it is better
in your hands than lying in that chest in the corner. Your
mother and I have no need for it, and it would take away half
her pleasure in her work were the earnings not used partly for
your advantage.”

The ship made a quick run to La Rochelle, and the next
morning Philip rode for Laville. He had not been there since
the battle of Moncontour, and although he knew that it had
been burnt by the Royalists shortly afterwards, it gave him
a shock to see, as he rode through the gate, how great a
change had taken place. The central portion had been repaired,
but the walls were still blackened with smoke. The wings
stood empty and roofless, and the ample stables, storehouses,
and buildings for the retainers had disappeared. His aunt
received him with great kindness, and Francois was delighted
to see him again.

“Yes, it is a change, Philip,” the countess said, as she saw
his eyes glancing round the apartment. ‘However, I have
grown accustomed to it, and scarce notice it now. Fortunately
I have ample means for rebuilding the chateau, for I have led a
quiet life for some years, and as the count my husband, being a
Huguenot, was not near the court from the time the troubles
began, our revenues have for a long time been accumulating, and
much of it has been sent to my sister’s husband, and has been
invested by him in England. There Francois agrees with me
that it should remain. ‘There is at present peace here, but
A VISIT HOME, 317

who can say how long it will last? One thing is certain, that
should war break out again it will centre round La Rochelle,
and I might be once more forced to leave the chateau at
the mercy of the Royalists; it would, then, be folly to spend
a crown upon doing more than is sufficient for our necessities,
We only keep such retainers as are absolutely necessary for our
service; there are but eight horses in the stables, the rest are
all out on the farms, and should the troubles recommence we
shall soon find riders for them.”

“You have just arrived in time, Philip,” Francois said pre-
sently, “for we start at the end of this week for Béarn, and
although you could have followed us, I am right glad that you
have arrived in time to ride with us. All your men are still
here.”

““T saw Eustace and Henri as I rode in,” Philip said.

“The other two work in the garden. Of course their days
for fighting are over. They could doubtless strike a blow in
defence of the chateau, but they have not recovered sufficiently
from their wounds ever to ride as men-at-arms again. How-
ever, two will suftice for your needs at present. I shall take
four of my own men, for the country is still far from safe for
travelling. Many of the disbanded soldiers have turned
robbers, and although the royal governors hunt down and
string up many, they are still so numerous that travellers from
one town to another always journey in strong parties for pro-
tection. How did Pierre get on in England?”

“He was glad to return here again, Francois, although he
got on well enough, as our house servants are French, as are also
many of those on the farm, and he became quite a favourite with
every one. But he is of a restless nature, and grew tired of
idleness.”

Three days later the party set out from Laville. The countess
rode on horseback, and her female attendant en crowpe behind
one of the troopers. They journeyed by easy stages, stopping
sometimes at hostelries in the towns, but more often at chateaux
belonging to gentlemen known to the countess or her gon.
They several times came upon groups of rough-looking men,
but the two gentlemen, their servants, and the six fully-armed
retainers were a force too formidable to be meddled with, and
they arrived safely at Béarn. The royal abode was a modest
318 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

building, far less stately than was Laville before its ruin. It
stood a short distance out of the town, where they had left the
men-at-arms, with instructions to find lodgings for themselves
and their horses. As they arrived at the entrance Prince Henri
himself ran down the steps in a dress as plain as that which
would be worn by an ordinary citizen.

“Welcome to Béarn,” he said. “It is a modest palace,
countess, and I am a much less important person here than
when I was supposed to be commanding our army.”

He assisted her to alight, and then rang a bell; a man
came round from the back of the house and took the horse
from Pierre, who was holding it, while Henri entered the house
with the countess. A minute later he ran out from the house
again.

“Now that I have handed over the countess to my mother
I can speak to you both,” he said heartily. “I am pleased to
see you, Frangois, and you too, Monsieur Philip.”

“My cousin insisted on my coming with him, prince, and
assured me that you would not be displeased at the liberty.
But, of course, I intend to quarter myself in the town.”

“You will do no such thing,” the prince said. “We are
poor in Béarn, as poor as church mice, but not so poor that we
cannot entertain a friend. Your bed-room is prepared for you.”

Philip looked surprised.

‘You don’t suppose,” the prince said, laughing, “that people
can come and go in this kingdom of ours without being noticed.
We are weak, and for that very reason we must be on our guard.
Half the people who come here come for a purpose; they come
from the king, or from Philip of Spain, or from the Guises,
and most of them mean mischief of some sort, so you see we
like to know beforehand, and unless they ride very fast we
are sure to get twenty-four hours’ notice before they arrive.
Then, you see, if we want a little more time a horse may cast
its shoe, or some of the baggage may be missing, or perhaps an
important paper somehow gets mislaid. It is curious how
often these things happen. ‘Then, when they arrive here they
find that I have, as usual, gone off for a fortnight’s hunting
among the mountains, and that, perhaps, my mother has started
for Nérac. We heard yesterday morning that you had crossed
the frontier, and that the countess had with her her son and
A VISIT HOME. 319

a big young Englishman, whose identity I had no difficulty in
guessing.”

“And we met with no misfortunes by the way, prince,”
Frangois said smiling.

“No,” the prince laughed, “these things do not happen
always.”

They had so far stood on the steps chatting; the two ser-
vants had followed the lackey with their own and their masters’
horses. The prince led the way indoors, and they were heartily
welcomed by the queen, who kept no more state at Béarn than
would be observed by any petty nobleman in France.

On the following day the two friends started with the prince
for the mountains, and were away for three weeks, during
which time they hunted the wild boar, killed several wolves, and
shot five or six wild goats. They were attended only by two
or three huntsmen and their three personal servants. They
slept sometimes in the huts of shepherds or charcoal-burners,
sometimes in the forest, in spite of the cold, which was often
severe,

“What do you say about this marriage which is being
arranged for moe?” the prince asked suddenly one night as
they were sitting by a hugo fire in the forest,

“Tt ought to be a great thing for the Reformed religion, if it
is agreeable to your highness,” Frangois said cautiously.

‘A politic answer, Monsieur de Laville. What say you,
Philip?”

“It is a matter too deep for me to venture an opinion,”
Philip said. “There is doubtless much to be said on both
sides. For example—you are a fisherman, prince?”

“Only moderately so, Philip; but what has that to do
with it?”

“TI would say, sir, that when a fisherman hooks an exceedingly
large fish it is just possible that, instead of landing it, the fish
may pull him into the water.”

The prince laughed.

“You have hit it exactly, Monsieur Philip. That is just the
way I look at it. Marguerite of Valois is indeed a very big fish
compared with the Prince of Béarn, and it is not only she who
would pull, but there are others, and even bigger fish, who would
pull with her. My good mother has fears that if I once tasted
320 _§T. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE,

the gaieties of the court of France I should be ruined body and
soul. Now I have rather an inclination for the said_gaieties,
and that prospect does not terrify me as it does her. But there
are things which alarm me more than gaieties. There is the
king, who, except when he occasionally gets into a rage, and
takes his own course, is but a tool in the hands of Catharine
de Medici. There is Anjou, who made a jest of the dead body
of my uncle Condé. There are Lorraine and the Guises; there
are the priests; and there is the turbulent mob of Paris. It
seems to me that, instead of being the fisherman, I should be
like a very small fish enclosed in a very strong net.” And he
looked thoughtfully into the fire. ‘The king is at present
with us, but his plighted word is worth nothing.”

“But once married,” Francois said, “you would have the
princess on your side, and being then brother-in-law to the
king, you would be safe from attack.”

“The king has no great love for his own brothers,” Henri said;
“but I am not supposing that even Charles would lay handson me
after inviting me to his court to marry his sister. He would
not venture upon that before the eyes of all Europe. It is the
strain and the pressure that I fear. A girl who is sent toa
nunnery, however much she may hate becoming a nun, can
no more escape than a fly from the meshes of a spider. I doubt
not that it seems to all the Huguenots of France that for me to
marry Marguerite of Valois would be more than a great victory
won for their cause; but I have my doubts. However, in a
matter like this J am not a free agent. The Huguenot lords
are all delighted at the prospect. My mother is still undecided.
You see I am practically as much in a net here as I shall be at
Paris if this marriage is made. I am rather glad the decision
does not rest with me. I shall simply go with the stream ;
some day perhaps I shall be strong enough to swim against it.
I hope that, at any rate, if I ride to Paris to marry Marguerite
of Valois, you will both accompany me.”
IN A NET. : 821

CHAPTER XIX.
IN A NET.

Ae their return from hunting they remained for another

fortnight at Béarn, and then started, the countess and
Francois to return home, and Philip to pay a visit to the Count
de Valecourt at his chateau in Dauphiny, in accordance with the
promise he had given him to visit him on his return to France.
Here he remained fora month. The count treated him with
the warmest hospitality, and introduced him to all his friends
as the saviour of his daughter. Claire had grown much since
he had seen her, when he had ridden over with her father to
Landres a year before. She was now nearly sixteen, and was
fast growing into womanhood. Philip was already acquainted
with many of the nobles and gentry of Dauphiny who had
joined the Admiral’s army, and after leaving Valecourt he stayed
for a short time at several of their chateaux, and it was autumn
before he joined Francois at Laville.

The inhabited portion of the chateau had been enlarged and
made more comfortable, for the king was still firm in his deci
sion that peace should be preserved, and showed marked favour
to the section of the court that opposed any persecution of the
Huguenots. He had further shown his desire for the friendship
of the Protestant powers by the negotiations that had been
carried on for the marriage of the Duke of Anjou to Queen
Elizabeth.

“T have news for you,” Francois said. “The king has invited
the Admiral to visit him. It has, of course, been a matter of great
debate whether Coligny should trust himself at court, many of
his friends strongly dissuading him; but he deems it best in the
interests of our religion that he should accept the invitation,
and he is going to set out next week for Blois, where the
king now is with the court. He will take only a few of his
friends with him. He is perfectly aware of the risk he runs,
but to those who entreat him not to trust himself at court he
says his going there may be a benefit to the cause, and that his
life is as nothing in the scale. However, he has declined the

(777) x
322 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

offers that have been made by many gentlemen to accompany
him, and only three or four of his personal friends ride with
him.”

“No doubt he acts wisely there,” Philip said. “It would
be well-nigh destruction to our cause should anything befall
him now; and the fewer of our leaders in Charles’s hands the
less temptation to the court to seize them. But I do think it
possible that good may come of Coligny himself going there.
He exercises wonderful influence over all who come in contact
with him, and he may be able to counterbalance the intrigues
of the Catholic party and confirm the king in his present good
intentions towards us.”

“T saw him two days ago, and offered to ride in his train,”
Frangois said, “but he refused decidedly to letme. ‘The friends
who will accompany me,’ he said, ‘have, like myself, well-nigh
done their work. The future is for you and those who are young.
I cannot dream that the king would do wrong to invited guests;
but should aught happen, the blow shall fall upon none of those
who should be the leaders of the next generation.’”

The news of the reception of the Admiral at Blois was anxiously
awaited by the Huguenots of the west, and there was great joy
when they heard that he had been received most graciously by
the king, who had embraced him and protested that he regarded
it as one of the happiest days in his life, as he saw in his return
to his side the end of trouble and an assurance of future tran-
quillity. Even Catharine de Medici received the Admiral with
warmth. The king presented him from his private purse with
the large sum of a hundred thousand livres to make good some
of the great losses he had suffered in the war. He also ordered
that he should receive for a year the revenues of his brother
the cardinal, who had lately died, and appointed him guardian
of one of the great estates during the minority of its heir—a
post which brought with it considerable profits.

At Coligny’s suggestion Charles wrote to the Duke of
Savoy interceding for the Waldenses, who were being perse-
cuted cruelly for having assisted the Huguenots of France. So
angered were the Guises by the favour with which the king
treated the Admiral that they retired from court, and the king
was thus left entirely to the influence of Montmorency and
Coligny. The ambassador of Spain, who was farther angered
IN A NED 323

by Charles granting interviews to Louis of Nassau, and by his
holding out hopes to the Dutch of assistance in their struggle
against Alva, also left France in deep dudgeon and with threats
of war. The result was naturally to cause a better state of
feeling throughout France. Persecutions everywhere ceased,
and the Huguenots for the first time for many years were able
to live in peace, and without fear of their neighbours.

The negotiations for the marriage between the Prince of
Navarre and Marguerite de Valois continued. The prince was
now eighteen and a half, and the princess twenty. The idea
of a marriage between them was of old standing, for it had
been proposed by Henry II. fifteen years before, but at the
outbreak of the Huguenot troubles it had been dropped. Mar-
shal Biron was sent by the king with the royal proposals to the
Queen of Navarre, who was now at La Rochelle. The queen
expressed her gratitude for the honour offered to her son, but
prayed for time before giving a decided answer, in order that she
might consult the ministers of her religion as to whether such a
marriage might be entered into by one of the Reformed religion.

The news of the proposed marriage, and also of the negotia-
tions that had been opened for a marriage between Elizabeth
of England and the Duc d’Alencon, created the greatest alarm
throughout the Catholic world. A legate was sent to Charles by
the pope to protest against it. Sebastian, King of Portugal,
who had refused the hand of Marguerite when it had before
been offered to him, reopened negotiations for it, while Philip
of Spain did all in his power to throw obstacles in the way of
the match.

The ministers of the Reformed religion, consulted by the
queen, considered that the marriage of Henry to Marguerite
would be of vast benefit to the Huguenot cause, and declared
that a mixed marriage was lawful. The English ambassador
gave his strongest support to it, and the Queen of Navarre
now entered upon the negotiations in earnest and went to Blois
for the purpose.

The differences were entirely religious ones, the court insisting
that Henri, while living at Paris with his wife, should consent
to be deprived of all means of worshipping according to his own
religion, while Marguerite, while in Béarn, should be guaranteed
permission to have mass celebrated there.
324 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

The king would have been ready to waive both conditions,
but Catherine, who, after at first favouring the match now
threw every obstacle in its way, was opposed to any concossion.
She refused to permit the Queen of Navarre to have any inter-
view with either Charles or Marguerite unless she was also
present, and hesitated at no falsehoods however outrageous
in order to thwart the efforts of Jeanne and her friends. The
pious queen, however, was more troubled by the extreme and
open profligacy of the court than by the political difficulties
she encountered, and in her letters implored her son to insist
upon residing at Béarn with his wife, and on no account to
take up his abode at Paris.

However, at last the difficulties were removed, the court
abandoned its demand that Marguerite should be allowed to
attend mass at Béarn, and the Queen of Navarre, on her part,
consented that the marriage should take place at Paris, instead of
at Béarn as she had before desired. She then went to Paris to
make preparations for the wedding. The great anxiety she had
gone through told heavily upon her, and a few days after her
arrival at the capital she was seized with a fever, which, in a
very short time, terminated her life, not without considerable
suspicions being entertained that her illness and death had been
caused by poison administered by an agent of Catherine. She
was, undoubtedly, one of the noblest women of her own or any
other time. She was deeply religious, ready to incur all dan-
gers for the sake of her faith, simple in her habits, pure in her
life, unconquerable in spirit, calm and confident in defeat and
danger, never doubting for a moment that God would give
victory to his cause, and capable of communicating her enthusi-
asm to all around her—a Christian heroine, indeed. Her death
was a terrible blow to the Reformed religion. She died on the
9th of June, and the marriage was, in consequence, deferred
until August.

The Admiral had not been present at Blois during the negoti-
ations for the marriage, for after remaining there for three
weeks he had retired to his estate at Chatillon, where he
occupied himself with the work of restoring his ruined
chateau. The Countess Amelie had accompanied the Queen of
Navarre to Blois and also to Paris, and had been with her at the
time she died. She had sent a message to Francois and Philip
IN A NET. 325

to join her there when she left Blois, accompanying her letter
with a safe-conduct signed by the king. On the road they were
met by the news of the death of the Queen of Navarre. It was
a severe blow to both of them, not only from the effect it
would have upon the Huguenot cause, but from the affection
they personally felt for her.

The king being grievously harassed by the opposite counsels
he received, and his doubts as to which of his advisers were
honest, wrote to Coligny begging him to come and aid him
with his counsel and support.

The Admiral received many letters imploring him not to go
to Paris, where, even if the friendship of the king continued, he
would be exposed to the danger of poison, to which, it was
generally believed, his brothers and the Queen of Navarre had
succumbed; but although fully aware of the danger of the step,
he did not hesitate. To one of his advisers he wrote fearlessly :

“As a royal officer I cannot in honour refuse to comply with
the summons of the king, but will commit myself to the pro-
vidence of Him who holds in His hands the hearts of kings
and princes, and has numbered my years, nay, the very hairs
of my head.”

One reason of the king’s desire for the counsels of the Admiral
was that he had determined to carry out his advice, and that
of Louis of Nassau, to assist the Protestants of Holland, and to
embark in a struggle against the dangerous predominance of
Spain.

ae a first step he had already permitted Louis of Nassau to
recruit secretly in France five hundred horse and a thousand
infantry from among his Huguenot friends, and to advance
with them into the Netherlands, and with these Louis had on
the 24th of May captured Mons, the capital of Hainault. The
Huguenot leaders did their best to persuade Charles to follow
up this stroke by declaring war against Spain; and the king
would have done so, had it not been that Elizabeth of England,
who had before urged him to this course, promising him her
aid, now drew back with her usual vacillation, wishing nothing
better than to see France and Spain engaged in hostilities from
which she would without trouble or expense gain advantage.
Meanwhile Catharine, Anjou, and the Guise faction all did
their best to counteract the influence of the Huguenots,
326 ST, BARTHOLOMEW S§ EVE.

Elizabeth’s crafty and hesitating policy was largely respon-
sible for the terrible events that followed. Charles saw that
she had been fooling him, both in reference to his course to-
wards Spain, and in her negotiations for a marriage with one or
other of his brothers. These matters were taken advantage of
by his Catholic advisers, and disposed him to doubt the wisdom
of his having placed himself in the hands of the Huguenots.
While Elizabeth was hesitating a blow came that confirmed the
king in his doubts as to the prudence of the course he had
taken. Alva laid siege to Mons. A Huguenot force of some
three thousand men, led by the Sieur de Genlis, marched to
its relief, but was surprised and utterly routed within a short
distance of the town; 1200 were killed on the field of battle,
some 1900 fugitives were slain by the peasantry, barely a
hundred reached Mons.

Coligny, who was preparing a much larger force for the
assistance of Louis of Nassau, still strove to induce the king to
throw himself heart and soul into the struggle against Spain,
and even warned him that he would never be a true king until
he could free himself from his mother’s control and the influ-
ence of his brother Anjou. The queen-mother, who had spies
everywhere, was not long in learning that Coligny had given
this advice, and her hatred against him was proportionately in-
creased. She at once went in tears to Charles, and pointed out
to him that it was to her counsel and aid alone that he had
owed his success against the Huguenots, that they were now
obtaining all the advantages for which they had fought in vain,
and that he was endangering the safety of his throne by anger-
ing Spain, relying only on the empty promises of the faithless
Queen of England. Charles, always weak and irresolute, suc-
cumbed at once to her tears and entreaties, and gave himself
up altogether to her pernicious counsels.

After the death of the Queen of Navarre, the countess tra-
velled back to Laville escorted by her son and Philip. The young
men made no stay there, but returned at once to Paris, where,
now that Coligny was in the king’s counsels, there was no ground
for fear, and the approaching nuptials of the young King of
Navarre would be attended by large numbers of his adherents.
They took a lodging near that occupied by the Admiral. De la
Noiie was not at court, he being shut up in Mons, having
IN A NET. 327

accompanied Louis of Nassau in his expedition. The court
was in deep mourning for the Queen of Navarre, and there
would be no public gaieties until the wedding. Among the
Huguenot lords who had come to Paris were the Count de
Valecourt and his daughter, who was now seventeen, and had
several suitors for her hand among the young Huguenot nobles.

Francois and Philip were both presented to the king by
the Admiral. Charles received them graciously, and learning
that they had been stopping at Béarn with the Prince of Navarre,
presented them to his sister Margaret.

“These gentlemen, Margot, are friends of the King of
Navarre, and will be able to tell you more about him than
these grave politicians can do.”

The princess, who was one of the most beautiful women
of her time, asked them many questions about her future hus-
band, of whom she had seen so little since his childhood, and
about the place where she was to live; and after that time when
they went to court with the Admiral, who on such occasions
was always accompanied by a number of Huguenot gentlemen,
the young princess always showed them marked. friendliness.
As the time for the marriage approached, the king became
more and more estranged from the Admiral. Queen Ilizabeth,
while professing her friendship for the Netherlands, had for-
bidden English volunteers to sail to the assistance of the Dutch,
and had written to Alva offering in token of her friendship to
hand over Flushing to the Spaniards. This proof of her du-
plicity, and of the impossibility of trusting her as an ally, was
made the most of by Catherine, and she easily persuaded the
weak-minded king that hostilities with the Spaniards would be
fatal to him, and that, should he yield to the Admiral’s entreaties,
he would fall wholly into the power of the Huguenots. The
change in the king’s deportment was so visible that the Catholics
did not conceal their exultation, while a feeling of uneasiness
spread among some of the Huguenot gentlemen at Paris.

“What are you doing, Pierre?” Philip said one day when he
found his servant occupied in cleaning up the two pairs of
heavy pistols they carried in their holsters.

“Tam getting them ready for action, master. I always
thought that the Huguenots were fools to put their heads into
this cage, and the more I see of it the less I like it.”
328 ST. BARTHOLOMEW’S EVE.

“There can be no reason for uneasiness, Pierre. The king
himself has over and over declared his determination to main-
tain the truce, and even did he harbour ill designs against us
he would not mar his sister’s marriage by fresh steps against
the Huguenots. What may follow after we have all left Paris
I cannot say.”

“Well, sir, I hope it may be all right, but since I got a
sight of the king’s face the other day I have no faith in him;
he looks like one worried until well-nigh out of his senses—and
no wonder. These weak men, when they become desperate,
are capable of the most terrible actions. A month since he
would have hung up his mother and Anjou had they ventured
to oppose him, and there is no saying now upon whom his
wrath may fall. At any rate, sir, with your permission I
mean to be prepared for the worst, and the first work is to
clean these pistols.”

“There can be no harm in that anyhow, Pierre, but I have no
shadow of fear of any trouble occurring. The one thing I am
afraid of is, that the king will keep Coligny near him, so that
if war should break out again we shall not have him for our
general. With the Queen of Navarre dead, the Admiral a pri-
soner here, and De la Noiie a captive in the hands of Alva, we
should fight under terrible disadvantages, especially as La
Rochelle, La Charité, and Montauban have received royal gov-
ernors in accordance with the conditions of the peace.”

“ Well, we shall see, master. I shall feel more comfortable
if I have got ready for the worst.”

Although Philip laughed at the fears of Pierre, he was yet
impressed by what he had said, for he had come to rely very
much upon the shrewdness of observation of his follower.
When, however, he went that evening to the Count de Vale-
court’s, he saw that there was no tinge of such feeling in the
minds of the Huguenots present. ‘The only face that had an
unusual look was that of Claire. Apparently she was gayer