There were more reasons than one why this change of name should be made--primarily because war having been declared by England in conjunction with Austria and Holland against Louis, no subject of Queen Anne was permitted within France, or, being in, would be safe if known and identified as such. But with an assumed name, or rather with part of his own name discarded--Martin being common to both countries--and with his knowledge of the French language perfect, owing to his long residence in the country as a child, the identification of Martin Ashurst with England was, if he held his peace, almost impossible. Also there were other reasons. He believed that at last he had found traces of the missing man, of him to whom by right fell all the vast wealth of the de Rochebazons, accumulated for centuries.
"Yet even now," he said to himself, "God knows if I shall succeed in finding him, or even should I do so, if I shall persuade him to claim what is his own. And, though he should still be willing, will that scourge3 of God, Louis, that curse of France, his wife, let one penny ever come to his hands? A Huguenot, and with the Huguenots in open rebellion, what chance would he have? I must be careful, more careful than ever, now that I am in the hotbed of revolution."
As he pondered thus he turned his wrist and urged his horse forward at a walk, making his way on slowly through the mountains to the village of Montvert.
"Three months," he said, "three months since I set out for Switzerland--for Geneva and Lausanne--and now, even now, but little nearer to the end than before. Coming here, I was told that it was almost impossible that Cyprien de Beauvilliers could have settled in the Cévennes without being known; travelling on to Savoy and to Lausanne, I learn at last that he did most undoubtedly4 come here from Geneva years ago. Shall I ever know--ever find out?"
A league or so accomplished5 at a walking pace, for his poor beast was almost exhausted6 now, it having been ridden across the mountains from St. Victor de Gravière since daybreak, and from Geneva within the last three weeks, and the banks of a river named Le Tarn7 being slowly followed, the rider entered Montvert, and passing across the bridge, proceeded slowly up the village street. Yet even as he did so he cast his eyes on a house at the side of that bridge and on the small trim garden between it and the stream, muttering to himself:
"Ah! Monsieur l'abbé! Monsieur l'abbé! you are one of the firebrands who stir up dissension in these valleys--you and your familiar spirit, Baville. Also your evil fame has travelled far. You are known and hated in Geneva, Lausanne, Vevey--maybe in Holland by now. 'Tis best you pray to Heaven to avert8 your fate. 'Tis threatened! And, if all the stories of you be true, it is almost deserved, no matter in what form it comes."
Proceeding9 still farther along the little main street of the bourg, he came to a wooden house also standing10 in a small trimly-kept garden, in which there grew all kinds of simple flowers that made the place gay with their colours, and here he dismounted, while calling to a boy who was raking the crushed shells on the path, he bade him take his horse to the stable in the rear.
"For you see, Armand," he said with a pleasant smile, "here I am back again, after a long while--yet still back."
The boy smiled a greeting and said all would be glad to welcome him, then did as he was bid and led the animal away, while Martin, going up to the door, knocked lightly on it and asked, as he threw his voice into the passage, if the pasteur was within.
To which, in answer, there came down toward the door an elderly gray-haired man, who held out both his hands and shook those of the younger one cordially.
"Back! Back!" he exclaimed joyously11. "Ah! this is good. Come in. Come in. The room is always ready, the bed kept aired, the lavender in the drawers. Welcome! Welcome!" Then, after looking at him and saying that his journey had not harmed him, he exclaimed: "Well, what news? Or--is it disappointment again?"
"But little news; scarcely, in truth, more than before. Yet something. I met a man at Geneva who had known Cyprien de Beauvilliers, but he was very old and, alas12! it is forty years and more since he set eyes on him."
"Forty years! A lifetime!"
"Ay, a lifetime--long enough for him to have disappeared from all human knowledge, to have died. That, I fear, is what has happened. Otherwise, this man says, they of the reformed faith would almost surely have heard of him."
"Not of necessity," the pastor13 answered. "If he so hated his kin2 and their religion that he was determined14 to break off forever from them and their customs, he may have resolved to obliterate15 every clew. He told the princess's husband that he renounced16 his name, his birthright. Other men have resolved on that, and kept their resolution."
While they had been speaking the pastor had led Martin Ashurst into his little salon17, and he called now to an elderly woman to prepare the evening meal.
"And a good one to-night, Margot; a good one to-night to welcome back the wanderer."
Whereon the old servant smiled upon that wanderer and murmured also some words of greeting, while she said it should be a good one. Fichtre, but it should!
"Soit! Let us see," went on her master. "First for the solids. Now, there is a trout18, caught this morning and brought me by Leroux--oh, such a trout! Two kilos if an ounce, and with the true deep speckles. Ma foi! he was a fool, he clung too much to the neighbourhood of the lower bridge, derided19 Leroux with his wicked eye; yet, observe, Leroux has got him. Si! Si! Half an hour hence he will be truite au vin blanc, a thing not half so wholesome20 for him as the stream and the rushes. Hein!"
Martin smiled to himself, yet gravely, as always now since his aunt's dying revelation. How far off seemed to him the merry days, or nights, at Locket's and Pontac's, and the jokes and jeers21 and flashes of wit of Betterton and Nokes, Vanburgh and gentle Farquhar!--while still the good old pastor prattled22 on, happy at preparing his little feast.
"Truite au vin blanc. Ha! And the right wine, too, to wash it down. Ha! The Crépi, in the long, tapering23 glasses that the Chevalier de Fleuville brought me from Villefranche. Poor de Fleuville! Poor, poor de Fleuville! Then, Margot, the rago?t and the white chipped bread, and, forget not these, clean serviettes to-night, if we never have others, and the cheese from Joyeuse. Oh! we will faire la noce to-night, mon brave. God forgive me," he broke off suddenly, his voice changing, "that even your return should make me think of feasts and noces at such a time as this--a time of blood and horror and cruelty!"
Over the meal, the trout being all that was expected of him, and the Crépi a fitting accompaniment thereto, they talked on what had been the object of "Monsieur Martin's" journey into Switzerland, then neutral in both religion and politics, and offering, consequently, a home for refugees of all classes and denominations24; talked also of what results that journey had had, or had failed to have. But all ended, or was comprised, in what the young man had already told the other--namely, that it seemed certain that Cyprien de Beauvilliers had at first gone to Geneva and Lausanne after he renounced his family and his religion, and that from there he had come to Languedoc, meaning to settle in the one spot in France where Protestantism was in its strongest force.
"He would thereby25," the pastor said, as now they reached the fromage de Joyeuse, nestling white and creamy in the vine leaves, "be able to enjoy his religion in peace for many years, until--until the unhappy events of '85. Alas! that revocation26! That revocation, born of that fearful woman! What--what will be the outcome of all, for even now it is but beginning to bear its worst fruits. Martin," he continued, "Martin, mon ami, we are but at the commencement. I fear for what will happen here ere long. I fear, I fear, I fear."
"Here! Is it as bad as that?"
"It is dreadful, appalling27. My friend, they will suffer no longer. They can support neither Baville's tyranny, which extends over all the district, nor--here, in this little village once so happy--the monstrous28 cruelties of the abbé."
"The abbé! Du Chaila! What is he doing now?"
"Tongue scarce dare tell for fear of not being believed. In after years, in centuries to come, when religion is free and tolerant, as some day it must be--it must! it must!--those who read of what we have suffered will deem the story false. O Martin! there, in that house by the bridge, are done things that would almost excite the envy of the Inquisition, ay! of Torquemada himself, were he still in existence. And he, this abbé, is the man who will light the flame in this tranquil29 spot. I pray God it may be extinguished almost ere lit." And Martin Ashurst saw that even as he spoke30 his hands were folded under the table, as though in prayer, and that his lips moved.
"But what," he said, "what do you fear? Also to what extremes does he now proceed?"
"'Proceed!' Ah, Martin, listen. There in that house by the bridge, once Fleuville's, who was hung by De Genne upon the bridge itself, so that his wife might see the thing each morning when she rose, he tortures us, the Protestants. Keeps prisoners confined, too, in the cellars deeper than the river itself. In stocks some, naked some, some with food only twice a week. He boasts he is God's appointed, then jeers and says, 'Appointed, too, by Baville under Louis.'"
"And Louis knows this?"
"Some say not, some say yes. For myself, I do not know. But things are near the end." And again the good pastor murmured, "I fear, I fear, I fear." Then went on, his voice lowered now and his eyes glancing through the windows, opened to let in the soft autumn air, cool and luscious32 as though it had passed over countless33 groves34 of flowers: "Listen. Masip--you have heard of him, Masip, the guide, he who shows the way to Switzerland and freedom--he is now there, in the cellars, in the stocks, bent35 double, his hands through two holes above the two where his feet are."
"For what?"
"He showed the Demoiselles Sexti the road to Chambery--they went dressed as boys. The girls escaped into the mountains. Masip is doomed36. He dies to-morrow."
"God help him!"
"Him! God help all, Martin. He hunts us everywhere. Some of my brother preachers have been executed; I myself am suspended, my hour may come--to-night--to-morrow. Sooner or later it must come. Then for me the wheel or the flames or the gibbet--there." And he pointed31 down the street toward where the bridge was on which Fleuville's body had been hanged.
"Never! Never!" Martin exclaimed, touching38 the old man's arm. "Never, while I have a sword by my side." Then added, a moment later:
"My friend, I must declare myself. While all are so brave, all going to, or risking, their doom37, I am but a craven hound to wear a mask. To-morrow I announce--or rather denounce--myself as a Protestant. My aunt died ere I could tell the secret which would have caused her to curse me instead of leaving me her heir. Here, I will shelter myself under that secret no more. To-morrow I see this abbé in his own house, to-morrow I defy him to do his worst on me as on others. I proclaim myself."
"No, no, no!" the old pastor cried, springing at him, placing his hand upon his lips to prevent further words from being heard or from penetrating39 outside. "No, no! In God's name, no! I forbid you. If you do that, how will you ever find de Beauvilliers--de Rochebazon, as he is if alive--or, he being dead, find his children? I forbid you," he reiterated40 again and again in his agitation41. "I forbid you."
"Forbid me? Force me to live a coward in my own esteem42? To see those of my own faith slaughtered43 like oxen in the shambles44 and stand by, a poltroon45, afraid to declare myself?"
"I forbid you. Not yet, at least. Remember, too, you are an Englishman, of France's deepest, most hated foes46; your doom is doubly threatening. Yet, oh, oh, my son," he exclaimed in a broken voice, "how I love, how I reverence47 you! Brave man, brave, honest Protestant, I love--my God!" he exclaimed, changing his tone suddenly, desisting in his speech, "My God! what is that?"
Desisted, turning a stricken, blanched48 face upon the younger man, who had reached for his sword and sash and was already donning them, while he whispered through white lips, "It has come! It has come! The storm has burst," while even as he spoke he fell on his knees by the table, and sinking his head into his hands, commenced to pray long and silently.
Prayed long and silently, while from outside the bourg--yet advancing, approaching nearer every moment--there came a deep sound. At first a hum, then, next, a clearer, more definite noise, and next, they being distinguishable, the words of a hymn49 sung by many voices.
Upon the soft night air, so calm and peaceful a moment earlier, those words rolled, the cadence50 falling and rising until it seemed as though it must reach the mountain tops o'erhanging the village. Rolled up and swelled51, and sunk and rose again, telling how the Lord set ambushments against the children of Ammon, Moab, and Mount Seir, who came against Judah; telling how, when they had made an end of one of their particular foes, each helped to destroy another.
Again the pastor moaned: "They have risen. They have risen. God help us all!"
"Who?" asked Martin. "Who? Our own faith? The Protestants? The Camisards? Risen at last."
"At last! At last!" the old man said, glancing up from his prayers. And he began to pray aloud to God to avert the horrors of battle and murder and sudden death.
The tramp of many men came nearer. Past the foot of the garden those men went, a compact mass; in their hands and belts, and borne also upon their shoulders, swords, old halberds, musketoons and pistols, in some cases scythes52 and reaping hooks. And ahead of all marched three gaunt, weird53 men, the inspired ones, the prophets of the Cevennes, of the Camisards.
"Keep all within doors," a deep-toned voice exclaimed from out the throng54, "on pain of death. Disturb not the children of God, his persecuted55 ones. No harm is meant to those who interfere56 not. Keep within doors, also appear not at the windows. All will thereby be well."
And again the psalm57 uprose, though now there were some who shouted: "To the vile58 abbé's! To the murderer's! To the house on the bridge! On! On! The soldiers first, the abbé next! On! On! To avenge59 the Lord!"
Then from farther ahead there rang the report of musketry, and one man fell dead pell-mell among the moving crowd, and was left lying in the white dust of the roadway, as from the window Martin could well see. But still the others shouted: "On! On! God's will be done!"
And again the pastor lifted his hands from where he knelt and cried aloud, "From battle, murder, and sudden death, good Lord deliver us."
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1
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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scourge
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| n.灾难，祸害；v.蹂躏 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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tarn
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| n.山中的小湖或小潭 | |
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avert
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| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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pastor
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| n.牧师，牧人 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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obliterate
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| v.擦去，涂抹，去掉...痕迹，消失，除去 | |
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renounced
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| v.声明放弃( renounce的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布放弃；宣布与…决裂；宣布摒弃 | |
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salon
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| n.[法]沙龙；客厅；营业性的高级服务室 | |
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trout
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| n.鳟鱼；鲑鱼(属) | |
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derided
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| v.取笑，嘲笑( deride的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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jeers
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| n.操纵帆桁下部（使其上下的）索具；嘲讽( jeer的名词复数 )v.嘲笑( jeer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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prattled
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| v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话( prattle的过去式和过去分词 )；发出连续而无意义的声音；闲扯；东拉西扯 | |
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tapering
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| adj.尖端细的 | |
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denominations
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| n.宗派( denomination的名词复数 )；教派；面额；名称 | |
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thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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revocation
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| n.废止，撤回 | |
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appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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luscious
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| adj.美味的；芬芳的；肉感的，引与性欲的 | |
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countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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40
reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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43
slaughtered
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| v.屠杀，杀戮，屠宰( slaughter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
shambles
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| n.混乱之处；废墟 | |
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45
poltroon
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| n.胆怯者；懦夫 | |
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46
foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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47
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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48
blanched
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| v.使变白( blanch的过去式 )；使（植物）不见阳光而变白；酸洗（金属）使有光泽；用沸水烫（杏仁等）以便去皮 | |
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49
hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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50
cadence
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| n.（说话声调的）抑扬顿挫 | |
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51
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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52
scythes
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| n.（长柄）大镰刀( scythe的名词复数 )v.（长柄）大镰刀( scythe的第三人称单数 ) | |
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53
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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54
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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55
persecuted
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| （尤指宗教或政治信仰的）迫害(~sb. for sth.)( persecute的过去式和过去分词 )； 烦扰，困扰或骚扰某人 | |
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56
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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57
psalm
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| n.赞美诗，圣诗 | |
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58
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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avenge
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| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
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