CHAPTER XIX.

ON THE ROAD TO PARIS.

On the 21st of January, 1535, a few weeks after the seizure of Hena Lebrenn and Ernest Rennepont at the cottage of Master Robert Estienne, two riders crossed the Charenton bridge on their way to Paris. Master Raimbaud, the armorer, one of the riders, was a man in robust middle age, and of an open and resolute countenance. His headgear consisted of a broad-brimmed felt hat; he wore a coat of mail over his jacket, and large traveling boots on his sturdy legs. A cutlass hung from his side, his holsters were furnished with pistols, and his wide brown coat flowed down over the crupper of his horse. The other rider, Odelin Lebrenn, was then just fifteen. His candid and pleasant features, slightly browned by the sun of Italy, recalled those of his sister Hena. A black bonnet, ornamented with a little red feather and placed slightly aslant over the lad's blonde hair, left wholly exposed the smiling face that radiated with increasing joy in the measure that he approached the end of his journey. The apprentice and his master were at that moment ascending a steep hill, at a steady pace. Despite the steepness of the hill, however, Odelin's mount frequently broke out into a trot, surreptitiously urged thereto by the spurs of the boy. Master Raimbaud smiled under his brown beard, as he guessed the cause of Odelin's impatience, while he himself kept his own horse well in hand. He had just once more baffled the innocent manoeuvre of his apprentice, who had run ahead:

"Well, Odelin," he called after him, "there is your horse again breaking out into a trot. One would think he'd got the devil at his heels."

"Master Raimbaud, it is not my fault," answered the youngster, somewhat abashed, and reining in, to his regret. "My horse forces my hand. It must be the flies that torment him. That's why he runs ahead."

"God's head! Flies in the month of January, my boy!" replied the armorer jovially, as he came abreast of his apprentice. "You must be thinking yourself still in summer on the roads of Milan."

"Well, I shall not insist on my fib, Master Raimbaud. I must admit to you that the nearer we approach Paris, where my mother, and father, and sister, and brother, and my good uncle Josephin are expecting me, I feel such a thrill of joy, that without my knowledge my spurs approach the flanks of my horse--and then the beast starts trotting."

"I can understand your impatience, my lad. It does credit to your heart. But endeavor to control yourself a little. We have ridden a long stretch to-day. We should not wind our horses. Certain of the joy in wait for you, what is the use of running after it?"

"That's true, Master Raimbaud," replied Odelin, red with emotion and his eyes dimmed with moisture. "Within two hours I shall see again all those whom I love; I shall embrace them--"

"And I shall add to their happiness at seeing you back again, by telling them how well pleased I have been with you during our trip."

"How could I otherwise than endeavor to please you, Master Raimbaud? If I were your own son you could not treat me with greater tenderness, or more attention."

"For the simple reason that a worthy son would not behave differently toward me than yourself, my little Odelin. Such are the fruits of the bringing up you have received from your worthy father and your excellent mother."

"Oh, Master Raimbaud, when I think of the caresses that await me!"

"Look to your spurs, my lad! Look to your spurs. We shall now soon be at the top of the hill. Stop your horse a moment. One of the straps of your valise is loose. Fasten it."

"Oh, heaven! If I had lost my valise!" cried the apprentice, reddening at the thought. Stopping his horse, he turned in his saddle, and hastened to fasten the strap, enumerating with childish glee as he did so the treasures contained in the bag: "Had I lost you, my dear valise, it would then have been adieu to my little presents--the brooch of chiseled silver for my mother, the Quintus Curtius printed in Bologna for my good and learned father, a vermillion pin for my handsome sister Hena, a bronze writing case, with all its accessories, for the studious Herve--"

"And that famous flask of Imola wine for your uncle, the Franc-Taupin, who will be delighted to taste the Italian nectar."

"That's not all, Master Raimbaud; I also have for my uncle a fine steel Milanese dagger, which I forged myself at the workshop of Master Gaspard during my idle moments. Oh, dear uncle, I would fear to offend him if I brought him a wine flask only."

"Come, the strap is now fast. Let us resume our way. Once we reach the top of the hill we shall start on a trot, my impatient fellow. I said a trot, did you understand? No galloping! We must husband the strength of our mounts."

Master Raimbaud and his apprentice resumed their route at a rapid pace. Already they descried in the distant horizon the numerous spires and belfries of the churches of Paris. As they were passing before an isolated house on the road, the battered sign of which announced it as a roadside tavern, they heard someone loudly call out to them:

"Master Raimbaud! Odelin! Halloa! Halloa, there!"

"It is my uncle!" cried the lad, startled, and quickly making his horse rear on its haunches. "I recognize my uncle's voice!"

"He must have come out to meet us, apprized by my wife of the day of our arrival," explained the armorer, also reining in. But looking to the right, and to the left, and all around him, he added, not a little surprised: "Where the devil may the Franc-Taupin be niched? He is not in heaven, I suppose, although the voice seemed to come from above."

No less astonished than his patron, Odelin also looked in all directions, when he saw, emerging from the tavern which they had ridden by, a tall Capuchin friar with his face almost wholly concealed in the cowl of his frock, and a chaplet of large beads girdling his waist. The monk moved with long strides towards the travelers.

"Good God!" cried Odelin as the cowl of the monk who ran towards them was blown back by the wind. "My uncle Josephin has become a Capuchin friar!"

"God's head!" exclaimed the armorer, sharing the astonishment of his apprentice. "May the fire of my forge consume me if I ever expected to see such a metamorphosis! The Franc-Taupin a Capuchin friar!"

Seeing that his nephew, upon whom he kept his eyes fixed, was about to jump down to the ground, the soldier of fortune checked him with a wave of his hand, saying:

"Remain on horseback, my boy!"

And addressing the armorer:

"Master Raimbaud, let us go into the tavern. It is a safe place, and there is a stable for your horses. We have matters to talk over."

"Halt here? No, indeed! I am in too great a hurry to embrace my wife. A few hours later, if you should feel so disposed, we may empty a pot of wine at my own house, my gay friend!" answered the armorer, misunderstanding the Franc-Taupin's invitation. "Everything in its season. Business before pleasure. I wish to be back in Paris before night. So, then, good-bye!"

"Master Raimbaud, you can not enter Paris before dark and without great precautions," said the Franc-Taupin in a low voice. "Follow me into the tavern. You can stable your horses there, and I shall impart to you grave tidings, the saddest that you can imagine--but not a word of that to Odelin."

"Be it so! Let us go in," answered Master Raimbaud, turning his horse's head, while evil presentiments assailed him. Ignorant of the secret information whispered by his uncle to the armorer, the apprentice followed the two into the tavern, asking himself with increasing wonderment how the Franc-Taupin could have become a friar.

Josephin pulled down over his face the cowl of his frock and led the two travelers to the yard of the tavern, from which access was had to the stable.

"Unsaddle the horses, my friend," said Master Raimbaud to Odelin, "and give them feed. Join us in the tavern when that is attended to."

"What, Master Raimbaud, are we to stay here when we are barely two hours from Paris!"

"Mind the horses, my boy. I shall tell you afterwards why we must stop here."

Obedient to his master's orders, Odelin unwillingly alighted and threw himself upon his uncle's neck, saying with a voice broken with affectionate remembrances: "My dear uncle! How are mother, father, sister and brother? All well at home?"

Without answering his nephew, Josephin held him in a close embrace. The boy felt upon his cheeks the tears that flowed from his uncle's eyes.

"Uncle, you weep!"

"With joy, my boy!" answered Josephin in a broken voice. "It is out of joy to see you after such a long absence." And disengaging himself from his nephew's arms, he proceeded: "You will join us presently. Ask the tavern-keeper the way to the room in the attic facing the road." Then turning to the armorer: "Come, Master Raimbaud, come!"

Overjoyed at having met his uncle, and consoling himself with the thought that, after all, the hour of seeing his family, so impatiently awaited, might not be greatly delayed, Odelin busied himself with unsaddling the horses and furnishing them with provender. The goodhearted boy, thereupon, in his hurry to offer the Franc-Taupin the little presents he brought him from Italy, rummaged in his valise for the flask of Imola wine and the dagger that he himself forged for him. The boy was anxious to show his affection to Josephin even before he was back home in Paris.

The Franc-Taupin led Master Raimbaud to a room on the top floor of the tavern, facing the highroad. There he informed the armorer of the death of Bridget and of the capture of Hena and Ernest Rennepont, who were since held imprisoned as relapsed sinners; and, finally, of Christian's departure for La Rochelle. The Franc-Taupin's hopes had been verified. The presence of his brother-in-law at Robert Estienne's country house was not suspected. The last ineffectual searches, undertaken by the archers at the house, sheltered him against any further visitations. The influence of Princess Marguerite, and the luster shed upon the reign of Francis I by the marvelous productions of Robert Estienne's printing establishment, combined to save the printing master once more--alas, it was to be the last time!--from the hatred of his enemies. Although a relapsed monk and nun were found on his premises, he was set free and left unmolested. Accordingly, Christian awaited in safety the time when, healed of his wound by the skill of the surgeon Ambroise Pare, who visited him secretly, he could take his departure for La Rochelle. The casket containing the narratives of the Lebrenn family had been concealed by the Franc-Taupin with admirable foresight among the brush of the garden, on the very night after the archers seized Hena. As soon as Christian was able to undertake the journey, he assumed the disguise of a traveling seller of chaplets and relics. The religious traffic was essential to his safety along the road. Carrying on his back his pack of religious trumpery, among which his family legends were secreted, he tramped to La Rochelle, where he arrived safe and sound.

Dumbfounded by these revelations, seeing the deep interest he harbored for Christian and his family, Master Raimbaud exclaimed in distraction:

"Poor Odelin! What an unexpected blow for the unhappy boy! Only a short time ago the mere thought of seeing his family threw him into transports of joy--and now he is to learn--Oh, it is horrible!"

"Horrible!" echoed the Franc-Taupin in sinister accents. "But blood calls for blood! A soldier of adventure since my fifteenth year, already I had become a wolf--now I shall be a tiger! The reformers will draw the sword to avenge their martyrs--no quarter for the assassin priests! By my sister's death!" proceeded the Franc-Taupin, livid with rage and raising his clenched fist heavenward, "call me a wooden-bowled cripple and a lame poltroon if I do not tear up the papists with my very teeth! But," restraining himself, he resumed: "Let us consider what now most presses. Master Raimbaud, here is a letter from your wife. I know its contents. She conjures you not to go back to your establishment, and to take shelter in the place of safety that she mentions. She will join you there in order to consider with you what is to be done. She is a cautious and resolute woman."

"My good Martha alarms herself unnecessarily," observed the armorer after reading his wife's letter. "However violent the persecution of the reformers may be, and although a heretic myself, I have nothing to fear. I work for several seigneurs of the court; I have fashioned their finest arms; they will not refuse me their protection."

"Master Raimbaud, do the papist court jays, with the feathers of peacocks and the talons of vultures, owe you any money?"

"Indeed, they owe me large sums."

"They will burn you to cancel their debts. Make no doubt of that."

"God's head! You may be telling the truth, Josephin! I must consider that."

"Well, then, return secretly to Paris; remain in hiding a few days, gather all your valuables--and flee to La Rochelle. Place yourself beyond the reach of the tigers' claws. It is the best thing you can do."

"But what of the poor lad--Odelin?"

"My nephew and myself will accompany you to La Rochelle. I scent battle and carnage in that quarter. When I say 'battle' I see things red. Here is to the red! I love wine--I shall drink blood! Oh, blood! You shall flow streaming and warm from the breast of the papists, like wine from the bung-hole of a cask. By my sister's death! Oh, for the day when I shall avenge Bridget--Hena--my two poor martyrs!"

After a moment's silent reflection the armorer blurted out: "My head reels under so many afflictions. I forgot to ask you where is Christian's daughter, Hena?"

"She is a prisoner at the Chatelet. Her trial is on," and burying his face in his hands the soldier of adventure added in heartrending tones: "She will be pronounced guilty, sentenced, and brought to the stake--burned alive as a relapsed nun."

"Great God, is such barbarity possible?"

"Hena!" Josephin proceeded without answering Master Raimbaud, "you sweet and dear creature! Image of my sister! Poor child whom, when a baby, I rocked upon my knees--you shall be avenged--"

The Franc-Taupin could not utter another word; he broke down into sobs.

"Unhappy Christian!" exclaimed Master Raimbaud pitifully. "What must not have been his agony!"

"We had to fabricate a tale before we could induce him to depart," answered the Franc-Taupin, wiping his burning eye with the back of his hand. "Monsieur Estienne assured Christian that the Princess had obtained grace for Hena's life, but under the condition that she was to spend her existence in some convent far away from Paris. Christian then decided to flee and preserve himself for his only remaining child, Odelin. He is now safe at La Rochelle."

"And Herve? You have not mentioned him."

"By my sister's death! Do not mention the name of that monster. I could strangle him with my own hands, child of Bridget's though he be. He has joined the Cordelier monks. He has already preached in their church upon the necessity of exterminating the heretics. The Queen was present on the occasion. They extol the eloquence of the young monk. Death and damnation!" Shivering with horror and disgust, the Franc-Taupin proceeded after a pause: "Never again mention the monster's name in my hearing! May hell swallow him up!"

Uninformed upon the events that led to Herve's taking orders, the armorer was no less stupefied at the news of the young man's having become a monk than at hearing Josephin give vent to his execration of his sister's son. Nevertheless, unwilling to aggravate the sorrow of the Franc-Taupin, he refrained from dwelling upon a subject that so greatly inflamed him.

"The tidings you have brought me have so upset me that it did not yet occur to me to ask you the reason for your assuming the garb you wear--"

"The reason is quite simple," Josephin broke in; "I was described to the spies of the Criminal Lieutenant; and probably informed against by the two bandits who helped me in the abduction of my niece from the convent. My size and the plaster over my eye make me an easy mark for capture. I took the robe of a Capuchin mendicant because it best enables me to conceal my face. These friars have no convent of their own in the city. A few of them straggle into Paris from time to time from their hives at Chartres or Bourges, to pick up crumbs. If any one of them, coming from Chartres, addresses me, I would say: 'I am from Bourges.' To those from Bourges I shall say: 'I am from Chartres.' I have been established in this tavern for the last three days. I told the inn-keeper that I expected a stranger upon business of my Order. I pay for my lodging regularly every morning. The inn-keeper has not manifested any curiosity about me. Thus, in short, runs the explanation of my disguise. For your own guidance, Master Raimbaud, I shall add that the exasperation of the Catholics against the reformers is just now at white heat. They even talk of slaughtering the Huguenots in mass."

"What are these threats, this increased hatred, attributed to?"

"To certain printed placards clandestinely posted on the walls of Paris by the activity of Christian's friend Justin. The placards scourge the priests, the monks and all other papists. A large number of heretics have already been arrested and sentenced to the stake; others have been massacred by the brutified populace--that _huge she-greyhound, with bloody craw_, as the monks say when they refer to the poor and ignorant masses. You may judge from that what dangers you would run in Paris, were you to attempt to enter the city openly, you who are pointed at as a heretic. My nephew Odelin runs the same danger. They are ready to seize him the moment he steps into your house."

"What! They want to arrest a child?"

"Children become men with time--and they fear men. I should have stabbed you to death, Ignatius Loyola, when I was your page! It is you who order the father and mother to be burned as heretics, and the three children to be clapped into cloisters to the end of uprooting a stock that you pronounce accursed! But the father has escaped death, and I shall know how to thwart your search after his last child! After that--battle and carnage! By my sister's death--I shall cause the blood of papists to run like water. Time presses--let us make haste. You can not return home, Master Raimbaud, any more than my nephew could safely step into your house. This is the plan I submitted to Monsieur Robert Estienne, and which he approves: I have provided myself with a second Capuchin frock for Odelin. He and I will go to Paris, our bags on our backs, without awakening suspicion. We shall turn in at a friend's on St. Honore Street, where Monsieur Estienne will call to see us. It is a safe place. Monsieur Estienne has taken upon himself the painful task of informing Odelin concerning the misfortunes that have smitten his family. To-morrow evening we leave Paris again in our disguise, and I shall take my nephew to his father at La Rochelle. Should you also decide to change your residence, and to move to La Rochelle with your wife, we may agree upon some town near Paris in which Odelin and myself could join you. This is for you to consider and decide."

"Your plan seems wise to me, Josephin; I shall probably decide to follow it. From what is happening in Paris, I perceive I would not be safe there."

"Well, then, Master Raimbaud, leave the horses behind in the tavern. One of your employees may come to-morrow for them. Do not enter Paris until after dark and keep your head well hooded. Proceed straight to the house that your wife mentions to you--"

The Franc-Taupin was interrupted in the directions he was issuing by the entrance of his nephew, holding in one hand a flask wrapped in fine paper, and in the other a steel dagger. He held out the two objects with a radiant face to Josephin, saying with exquisite kindness:

"Dear uncle, I forged this dagger for you out of the best steel there was in Milan; I bring you this flask of old Imola wine for you to celebrate this happy day and to drink to the speedy reunion of our family."

So poignant was the contrast between the lad's words and the sad reality of which he still remained in ignorance, that Master Raimbaud and the Franc-Taupin exchanged sad glances and remained silent. Josephin's cowl, now resting wholly upon his shoulders, left his face entirely exposed. So visible were the traces of sorrow and mental suffering that face revealed, that Odelin, now seeing his uncle for the first time wholly uncovered, drew back a step. Immediately he also noticed the profound sadness of Master Raimbaud. Alarmed at the silence of the two, Odelin felt oppressed. He felt a vague presentiment of some great misfortune. Touched by the token of his nephew's affection, the Franc-Taupin took the flask and the dagger, examined the weapon, placed it in his belt under his frock, and muttered to himself:

"Ah, a good blade. You are given to me by the son--you shall wreak vengeance for the mother, the father--and their daughter!" He then placed the flask down beside him, and embracing Odelin, added aloud: "Thank you, my dear boy. The dagger will be useful to me. As to the flask--tastes change--I drink wine no more. Now to business. I have a note for you from your father. Post yourself upon its contents."

"But am I not to see father shortly, at home?"

Not a little astonished, Odelin read:

My dearly beloved Odelin.--Do everything your uncle Josephin may tell you, without asking any questions. Do not feel alarmed. I shall soon embrace you. I love you as ever, from the bottom of my heart.

Your father,

CHRISTIAN.

Despite his vague and increasing uneasiness, Odelin felt quieted by those words of his father's: "I shall soon embrace you." He said to the Franc-Taupin:

"What must I do, uncle?"

The soldier of fortune took a bundle from his bed, drew out of it a Capuchin's robe, and said to his nephew:

"The first thing to do, my boy, is to put this robe over your clothes, and when we are out of doors you will take care to keep the cowl over your face, as I am doing now."

"I?" asked Odelin, startled. "Am I to put on such a costume?" But recalling the instructions of his father, he added: "I forgot that father wrote me to obey you, uncle, without asking any reasons for your orders. I shall put on the robe, immediately."

"Fine," said Master Raimbaud, forcing a smile on his lips in order to quiet Odelin. "There you are, from an armorer's apprentice transformed into a Capuchin's apprentice! The change does not seem to be to your taste, my little friend."

"It is my father's will, Master Raimbaud. I but obey. Truth to say, however, I do not fancy a monk's garb."

"I am a better papist than yourself, little Odelin," put in the Franc-Taupin ironically, as he helped his nephew to don his disguise; "I love the monks so well that I hope soon to start bestowing upon every one of them whom I may meet--the red skullcap of a Cardinal! Now, shoulder that wallet and bend your back; and then with a dragging leg, and neck stuck out, we shall imitate as well as we can the gait of that Roman Catholic and Apostolic vermin."

"How comical I shall look to mother and to my sister Hena when they see me arrive thus accoutred!" observed Odelin with a smile. "Dear uncle, if father is the only one informed of my disguise, I shall knock at the door of our house, and beg for an alms with a nasal twang. Just think of their surprise when I throw up my cowl! _Corpo di Bacco!_ as the Italians say, we shall laugh till the tears run down our cheeks."

"Your idea is not bad," answered the Franc-Taupin, embarrassed. "But it is getting late. Bid Master Raimbaud good-bye, and let us depart."

"Is Master Raimbaud to stay here?"

"Yes, my boy--"

"Who is to see to the horses?"

"Do not trouble yourself about that; they will have their provender."

The armorer embraced his apprentice, whom he loved almost as an own son and bade him be of good cheer.

"Your adieu sounds sad, Master Raimbaud, and as if our separation were to be a long one," observed Odelin with moistening eyes. "Uncle! Oh, uncle! My alarm returns, it grows upon me. I can not account for the sadness of Master Raimbaud, and I do not understand the mystery of this disguise to enter Paris--"

"My dear boy, remember your father's instructions," said Josephin. "Put me no questions to which I can not now make an answer."

The boy resigned himself with a sigh. Shouldering his wallet, he descended after his uncle. As the latter heard the clink of Odelin's spurs on the stairs, he turned to him:

"I forgot to make you take off your spurs. Remove them while I go and pay the inn-keeper. Wait for me outside at the cross road."

"Uncle, may I put into my wallet a few little presents that I bring from Italy for the family?"

"Do about that as you please," answered the Franc-Taupin.

While Odelin walked into the stable to remove his spurs and take out of his valise the articles which he wished to take with him, Josephin went to settle his score with the inn-keeper. The latter, who hugged his taproom, did not see young Odelin come down in his Capuchin vestments. To the Franc-Taupin he said: "You leave us early, my reverend. I hoped you would pay us a longer visit. But I can understand that you are in a hurry to reach Paris to witness the great ceremony."

"What ceremony have you in mind, my good man?"

"A traveler informed us that the bells and the chimes have been ringing in Paris with might and main since morning. All the houses along the road that the superb procession is to traverse were decorated with tapestry by orders of the Criminal Lieutenant, who also ordered that a lighted wax candle be held at every window. He also told us that the King, the Queen and all the Princes, as well as a crowd of great seigneurs and high dignitaries were to assist at the ceremony--the most magnificent that will yet have been seen--"

"Good evening, my host," said Josephin, anxious to put an end to the conversation and join his nephew who waited for him outside. To himself he was saying:

"What can the ceremony be that the inn-keeper has been informed about? After all, the event can only be favorable to us. The crowds that the streets will be filled with will facilitate our passage, and help us to reach unperceived the retreat designated by Monsieur Estienne."

The Franc-Taupin and his nephew walked rapidly towards Paris where they arrived as the sun was dipping the western horizon.