The Pocket Bible; or, Christian the Printer: A Tale of the Sixteenth Century

The Queen's instructions were interrupted at this point by the entrance of a page who came to announce that Count Neroweg of Plouernel prayed for admission to the Queen's presence upon pressing and important matters. Catherine ordered the page to introduce the Count, and she bade Anna Bell godspeed, kissing her on the forehead and adding these last instructions:

"Prepare immediately for your journey, my pet. The Count of Plouernel will appoint the guide who is to accompany you. One of my equerries will get a litter ready. I expect to see you again before your departure."

The maid of honor followed the Queen's instructions. Seeing that the interview with the Count of Plouernel lasted longer than she had anticipated, Catherine De Medici was prevented from seeing Anna Bell again, and sent her a note to depart without delay.

Towards one o'clock in the morning the maid of honor mounted in one of the Queen's litters, left the Abbey of St. Severin.

CHAPTER III.
THE AVENGERS OF ISRAEL

The sun was rising. Its early rays gilded the crest of a forest about a league distant from St. Yrieix, a large burg that served as the center of the Protestant encampment. A chapel, formerly dedicated to St. Hubert by an inveterate hunter, raised its dilapidated walls on the edge of the wood, the skirts of which were now guarded by mounted scouts, posted at long intervals. The chapel had been devastated during the religious wars. Its belfries, the capitals and the friezes of its portico were broken; its windows were smashed in; the statue of St. Hubert, the patron of hunters, lay decapitated in the midst of other debris, along with that of the seigneur who founded the holy shrine, chosen by him for his sepulcher. The fragments of his marble image, representing him lying prone, with hands joined in prayer, hunting horn slung over his shoulder, his favorite greyhound stretched at his feet – all lay strewn around the mortuary vault, now gaping wide open and cumbered with ruins. The interior of the chapel now served as a stable, and also as guardhouse to a picket squad of the Huguenot army, posted at the spot. The pickets' horses, ready saddled and bridled, stood drawn up in double row in one of the low-roofed aisles and on either side of a door that communicated with the old vestry. For want of forage the beasts were eating the green leaves of large bunches of branches thrown at their feet. The riders, either standing, or seated, or stretched out at full length, wrapped in their cloaks, were not dressed in uniform. Their offensive and defensive arms, however, dissimilar and worn, were in usable condition.

This band of Huguenot volunteers took the name of the Avengers of Israel. Josephin, the Franc-Taupin, named by the Catholics "The One-Eyed," was their commander. On all occasions the Avengers of Israel approved themselves animated by an intrepidity that was matchless, always claiming for themselves the post of greatest danger, and always found first in battle. The indomitable courage of the Franc-Taupin, his exceptional skill in guerilla warfare, his pitiless hatred for the papists, upon whom he swore to avenge the fate of his sister Bridget and his niece Hena, earned for him the leadership of these resolute men.

On this day, at sunrise, the commander presided at a species of tribunal consisting of several of his companions in arms, all seated in the midst of the ruins of the chapel of St. Hubert. The years had whitened the hair and beard of the Franc-Taupin, without impairing the fiber of his energy. An old rust-covered steel breastplate over his chest answered the purpose of corselet; his wide hose of red cloth were half covered by a pair of high leather boots heavy with dust; at his belt, which also contained his cartridges, hung a short stick suspended from a piece of pack-thread, and indented with sixteen notches – each tallying the death of a priest or monk. The dagger of fine Milan steel, a present from Odelin, hung on the Franc-Taupin's right side, while at his left he wore a long sword with an iron hilt. The Franc-Taupin's bronzed and haggard features, rendered all the more sinister by the large black patch which covered one eye, were at this moment expressive of sardonic cruelty. He was sitting in judgment upon a Cordelier, a man of tall and robust build, who was captured in the early morning prowling in the forest. Some letters found about his person proved that the tonsured gentleman was a spy of the royalist army, and one of the Avengers of Israel recognized him as one of the monks who took part in the carnage of Mirebeau, where nearly twelve hundred Huguenot prisoners were put to death with frightful refinements of cruelty. Surrounded by several of his companions, who, like himself, were seated upon the ruins of the altar, the Franc-Taupin drew his dagger and was engaged in leisurely sharpening it upon a stone that he held between his knees, without looking at the monk who, livid with rage and terror, and standing a few steps aside with his arms tied behind his back, was uttering maledictions at the top of his voice:

"Accursed and sacrilegious wretches! You abuse your strength! The hand of the Lord will fall heavy upon you! Heretical dogs!"

The Franc-Taupin calmly sharpened his dagger. "Good!" he exclaimed. "Be brave, my reverend! Disgorge your monastic bile! Crack your apostolic hide! It will not make your fate any worse. Be prepared for the worst, and you will still be far behind what I have in store for you. We care nothing for your threats."

"Neither can anything render your fate worse than it will be, reprobates," howled the Cordelier, "when the whole pack of you, to the very last one, will be hurled into the pit of everlasting flames!"

"By my sister's death!" the Franc-Taupin answered. "You make a mistake to mention 'flames.' You remind me of what I never forget – the fate of my niece, who, poor innocent creature, was plunged twenty-five times into the burning pyre. Brothers, instruct the tonsured fellow upon our reasons for enrolling ourselves in the corps of the Avengers of Israel, and why we are pitiless."

Accordingly, while the Franc-Taupin continued to whet his dagger, one of the Huguenot soldiers thus addressed the monk:

"Monk, listen! In full peace, after the Edict of Orleans, my house was invaded during my absence by a band of fanatics. The vicar of the parish led them. My old and blind father, who remained at home in my house, was strangled to death. It is to avenge my father that I enrolled myself with the militia of the Avengers of Israel. Therefore, death to the papist Church! Death to all the tonsured felons!"

"Marshal Montluc held command in Guyenne," continued a second Huguenot. "Six soldiers, attached to his ordnance company, lodged at our farm-house. One day they forced the cellar door, drank themselves drunk, and violated my brother's wife. Wounded with cutlass cuts in his endeavor to defend her, he dragged himself bleeding to the headquarters of Marshal Montluc to demand justice. Montluc ordered him to be hanged! Monk, I have sworn to avenge my brother! Death to the papists!"

"I also am from Guyenne, like my companion," came from another Huguenot. "One Sunday, relying upon the Edict of Longjumeau, I attended services with my mother and sister. A company of Marshal Montluc's swashbucklers, led by a chaplain, invaded the temple, chased out the women, locked up the men in the building, and set it on fire. There were sixty-five of us inside, all without arms. Nine succeeded in making their escape from the flames. The rest, burned, smothered by the smoke, or crushed under the falling roof, all perished. The women and young girls were dragged to a nearby enclosure; they were stripped to the skin; they were then compelled at the point of pikes to dance naked before the papist soldiers; and were finally forced to submit to the lechery of their persecutors. My mother was killed in her endeavor to save my sister from that crowning outrage; nine months later my sister died in childbed of the fruit of her rape. Monk, I swore to avenge my sister! I swore to avenge my mother! Death to the papist seigneurs and nobles!"

"I come from Montaland, near Limoges," a fourth Huguenot proceeded. "Three months after the new edict, I attended services with my young son. A band of peasants, led by two Carmelites and one Dominican, rushed into the temple. My poor boy's head – he was not yet fifteen – was cut off with a scythe, and stuck upon a pole. Monk, I swore to avenge my son! Death to the whole monastic vermin!"

"Was it I, perchance, who committed the acts that you are seeking to avenge?" howled the Cordelier. "Cowardly felons!"

At this the Franc-Taupin interrupted the sharpening of his dagger, cast a sardonic look at the monk, and cried: "Oh! Oh! This is the seventeenth time I hear that identical remark – you being the seventeenth tonsured gentleman whom I sentence. Do you see this little stick? I cut a notch in it at each reprisal. When I shall have reached twenty-five the bill will be settled – my sister's daughter was plunged twenty-five times into the furnace, at the order of the Catholic priests, the agents of the Pope.

"Monk, it stands written in the Bible: 'Life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.'⁶⁶ Well, now, instead of burning you, as should be done, I purpose to make you a Cardinal."

Saying this the soldier of fortune described with the point of his dagger a circle around his head. The monk understood the meaning of the frightful pantomime. The Avengers of Israel threw him down and held him fast at the foot of the altar. The Franc-Taupin passed his thumb along the edge of his weapon, and sat down upon his haunches beside the patient. At that moment one of the riders rushed precipitately into the chapel, shouting:

"A good prize! A good prize! A maid of honor of Jezebel!"

The arrival of the captive girl suspended the torture of the monk who remained pinioned at the feet of Josephin. The Franc-Taupin rose, and cast a look upon the female captive, who was none other than Anna Bell. The features of the hardened soldier relaxed, a tremor ran over his frame, he hid his face in his hands and wept. It seemed to him as if he saw in the young captive Hena, the poor martyr he so deeply mourned! The otherwise inexorable man remained for a moment steeped in desolate thoughts, in the midst of the profound silence of the Avengers of Israel. The maid of honor stood cold with fright. She realized she was in the power of the terrible One-Eyed man, the ferocity of whom spread terror among the Catholics.

The Franc-Taupin passed the back of his hand over his burning and hollow eye, the fierce fire of which seemed kindled into fiercer flame by the tear that had just bathed it. Turning with severity to Anna Bell he ordered her to step nearer:

"You are a maid of honor to the Queen?"

With a trembling voice Anna Bell replied: "Yes, monsieur, I belong to her Majesty the Queen."

"Where do you come from?"

"From Meilleret. Tired with travel, I stopped for rest at the village. From there I proceeded on my journey to join the Queen. – My guide lost his way. Your riders stopped my litter. – Have pity upon me and order that I be taken to Monsieur the Prince of Gerolstein. I think I may rely upon his courtesy."

"At what hour did you leave Meilleret?"

"About one this morning."

"You lie! It is hardly five o'clock now – you traveled in a litter – it takes more than eight hours to come from Meilleret to this place on horseback and riding fast."

"Monsieur, I conjure you, have me taken to the Prince of Gerolstein – it is the only favor I entreat of your kindness," cried Anna Bell, trembling and stammering.

Struck by the insistence with which the maid of honor requested to be taken to Prince Franz of Gerolstein, the Franc-Taupin contemplated her with mistrust. Suddenly he ordered:

"Search the woman!"

Two Huguenots executed the order, and extracted from Anna Bell's pockets a purse, a letter and the gold vial. The Franc-Taupin opened the letter, the seal of which was broken; read it; looked puzzled over a passage in the missive and remained for a moment thoughtful. But immediately struck by a sudden inspiration, he darted a fierce glance at the maid of honor, examined the gold vial in silence, and holding it up to Anna Bell, said:

"Woman, what does that vial contain?"

With a great effort, Anna Bell replied, "I – I – know not."

"Oh, you know not!" cried the Franc-Taupin, breaking out in a sardonic guffaw. "Miserable creature. You seem to have the audacity of a criminal."

He stepped slowly towards the young girl, seized her by the arm, and holding the vial to her lips, cried:

"Drink it on the spot, or I stab you to death!"

Anna Bell, terror-stricken and fainting, dropped upon her knees, crying: "Mercy! Mercy! I beg of you, mercy! Pity! Mercy!"

"Poisoner!" exclaimed the Franc-Taupin.

The maid of honor crouched still lower upon her knees, hid her face in her hands, and sobbed aloud. The Huguenots looked at one another stupefied. Again silence reigned.

"Brothers," said the Franc-Taupin, breaking the silence, "listen to the letter that you have just taken from this woman's pocket:

"A courier from my son Charles has arrived from Paris, my pet, compelling me to have an immediate conference with the Cardinal. I can not see you before your departure. Adieu, and courage. You will reach your Prince. I forgot one important recommendation to you. The philter must be emptied quickly after the stopper is removed from the vial.

"The letter is signed 'C. M.' – Catherine De Medici! Here we have it! The Queen sends one of her strumpets to poison Franz of Gerolstein!"

Still under the shock of the cowardly assassination of Condé, and of the recent deaths by poison of the Duke of Deux-Ponts and the Admiral's brother, the Huguenots broke out into imprecations. The youth and beauty of the maid of honor only rendered her criminal designs all the more execrable in their eyes. The moment was critical. Anna Bell made a superhuman effort – a last endeavor to escape the fate that threatened her. She rose on her knees and with clasped hands cried:

"Mercy! Listen to me! I shall confess everything!"

"O, Hena," cried the Franc-Taupin with savage exaltation. "Poor martyr! I shall avenge your death upon this infamous creature – beautiful like yourself – young like yourself! Throw together outside of the chapel the branches that our horses have bared of their leaves. The wood is green – it will burn slowly. We'll tie the poisoner and the monk back to back upon the pyre the instant I have ordained him a Cardinal."

In chorus the Huguenots shouted: "To the pyre with the monk and the poisoner!"

Anna Bell's mind began to wander. Livid and shivering she crouched in a heap upon the ground, her voice choked in her throat, already rigid with terror, and escaped only in convulsive sobs. The Avengers of Israel hurried to heap up the bare branches around a tall oak-tree planted before the portico of the chapel. The Franc-Taupin stepped towards the Cordelier, who muttered in an agonizing voice, "Miserere mei, Domine – miserere!"

Again the solemnity of ordaining the monk a Cardinal was suddenly interrupted. The sound of an approaching and numerous cavalcade reached the Avengers of Israel. A moment later Prince Franz of Gerolstein appeared at the head of a mounted troop.

The personage who now stepped upon the scene was the grandson of Charles of Gerolstein, who in 1534 assisted at the council of the Calvinists in the quarry of Montmartre, together with Christian the printer. The young Prince was twenty-five years of age. The short visor of his helmet exposed his features. Their regularity and symmetry were perfect; they expressed at once benevolence and resolution. Of tall and wiry build, the young man's heavy black cuirass, worn German fashion, and his thick armlets, seemed not to weigh upon him. His wide hose, made of scarlet cloth, were almost overlapped by his long boots of buff leather armed with silver spurs. A wide belt of white taffeta – the Protestants' rallying sign – was fastened with a knot on one side.

Immediately upon entering the chapel the Prince addressed the Franc-Taupin:

"Comrades, I have just learned that your scouts have arrested one of the Queen's maids of honor – "

Before the Franc-Taupin had time to answer the Prince, Anna Bell jumped up, ran to Franz, and threw herself at his feet, crying: "For mercy's sake, monsieur, deign to hear me!"

Franz of Gerolstein recognized the young girl at once. He reached out his hand to her and made her rise, saying: "I remember to have met you, mademoiselle, at the French court, last year. Be comforted. There must be some untoward misunderstanding in regard to you."

Anna Bell in turn seized the Prince's hands and covered them with kisses and tears. "I am innocent of the horrible crime that they charge me with!" she cried.

"Prince," broke in the Franc-Taupin, "the woman must die! The wretch is a poisoner; she is an emissary of Catherine De Medici; and you were singled out for her victim. We are about to do justice to the case."

"No pity for the prostitutes of the Italian woman! None for her messengers of death!" cried several Huguenots.

But Franz of Gerolstein interposed, saying: "My friends, I can not believe in the crime that you charge this young girl with. I knew her at the court of France. I often spoke with her. Whatever the deplorable reputation of her companions, she is a happy exception among them."

"Oh! thank you, monsieur," exclaimed Anna Bell in accents of ineffable gratitude. "Thank you, for testifying so warmly in my favor – "

"Prince, the hypocrite had her mask on when she conversed with you!" insisted the inexorable Franc-Taupin. "Read this letter from the Queen. You will learn from it the reason why her maid of honor threw herself intentionally into the hands of our outposts, and immediately requested to be taken to your tent. As to this vial," he turned to Anna Bell, "does it contain poison, yes or no?"

"Monsieur, do not allow appearances to deceive you – if you only knew!" cried Anna Bell, in distress.

Franz of Gerolstein cast upon the maid of honor a frigid look; then, turning away his head, he stepped towards the door of the chapel. Anna Bell rushed after the Prince, fell again at his feet, clasped his knees and cried: "Monsieur, do not forsake me! In the name of your mother, deign to listen to me! It is not death I fear – what I fear is your contempt – I am innocent!"

The accent of truthfulness often touches the most prejudiced of hearts. Moved, despite himself, Franz of Gerolstein stopped, and looking down upon the maid of honor with pain and pity, said:

"I grant your prayer – I wish still to doubt the crime that you are accused of – explain the mystery of your movements." He looked around, and noticing the vestry door that led from one of the aisles of the chapel, he added, "Come, mademoiselle, I shall listen to you without witnesses in yonder private place."

With an effort Anna Bell arose, and with staggering steps she followed Franz of Gerolstein into the vestry. Arrived there, the maid of honor collected her thoughts for a moment, and then addressed the young Huguenot Prince with a trembling voice in these words:

"Monsieur, before God who hears me – here is the truth: Last evening, shortly before midnight, at the Abbey of St. Severin where the Queen halted for rest, she summoned me to her, and after reminding me of all that I owed to her generosity, because," and Anna Bell broke down weeping, "I am a waif, picked up from the street – out of charity – one of the Queen's serving-women bought me about ten years ago, as she informed me, from a Bohemian woman who made me beg before the parvise of Notre Dame in Paris – "

"How came you to become a maid of honor to Catherine De Medici?"

"The woman who took me in showed me to the Queen, and, to my misfortune! – to my disgrace! – the Queen interested herself in me!"

"To your misfortune? To your disgrace?"

"Monsieur," answered Anna Bell as if the words were wrung from her heart, "Alas! although barely beyond girlhood, two years ago, thanks to the principles and the instructions that I received, and the examples set to me, my education was perfect and complete, I was found worthy of forming part of the Queen's 'Flying Squadron'!"

"I understand you! Poor girl!"

"That is not all, monsieur. The day came when I was to prove my gratitude to the Queen. It happened during the truce in the religious wars. The Marquis of Solange, although a Protestant, often came to court. He was to be detached from his cause, monsieur. He had manifested some inclination towards me. The Queen called me apart. 'The Marquis of Solange loves you,' she said; 'he will sacrifice his faith to you – provided you are not cruel towards him.' I yielded to the pressure from the Queen. I had no consciousness of the indignity of my conduct until the day when – "

Anna Bell could proceed no further; she seemed to strangle with confusion, and was purple with shame. Suddenly frightful cries, proceeding from the interior of the chapel, startled the oppressive silence in the vestry. The cries were speedily smothered, but again, ever and anon, and despite the gag that suppressed them, they escaped in muffled roars of pain. Frightened at these ominous sounds, the maid of honor precipitately took refuge by the Prince's side, seeming to implore his protection and muttering amid sobs:

"Monsieur – do you hear those cries – do you hear the man's moans?"

"Oh!" answered Franz of Gerolstein, visibly depressed with grief. "Forever accursed be they, who, through their ferocity, were the first to provoke these acts of cruel reprisal!"

The moans that reached the vestry gradually changed into muffled and convulsive rattles that grew fainter and fainter. Silence prevailed once more. The expiring monk was ordained Cardinal by the Franc-Taupin.

"I arrived in time, mademoiselle, to rescue you from the vengeance of those pitiless men," resumed the Prince. "The candor of your words would denote the falseness of the accusations raised against you. And yet, this letter from the Queen, this vial, would seem to furnish convincing testimony against you."

"Last evening," Anna Bell proceeded, "notified by our governess that the Queen wished to speak to me, I awaited her orders in a dark corridor that separated my chamber from the Queen's apartments. At the very moment I was about to open the door I heard your name mentioned, monsieur. The Queen was speaking about you with Father Lefevre, a priest of the Society of Jesus, one of the counselors of the King of Spain."

"To what purpose was my name mentioned by the Queen and the Jesuit?"

"It seems that, in their opinion, monsieur, you are a redoubtable enemy, and the Queen promised Father Lefevre to rid herself of you. One of her maids of honor was to be commissioned to execute the murder through poison. The maid of honor chosen was myself. Madam Catherine selected me for this horrible deed. Frightened at what I had overheard, an involuntary cry of horror escaped me. Almost immediately I heard footsteps approach the door of the Queen's apartment. Luckily I had time to regain my own chamber without being heard or even suspected of having overheard the Queen's words. Presently she rang for me. The Queen began by reminding me of her acts of kindness to me, and added she decided to fulfil the dearest and most secret wishes of my heart. 'Anna Bell,' she said, 'you no longer love the Marquis of Solange; you have transferred your affections to the Prince of Gerolstein, whom you saw at court last year.' Take this vial. It contains a philter that makes one beloved. A guide will take you to the outposts of the Huguenots; you will fall into their hands; you will then ask to be taken to the Prince of Gerolstein. He is a nobleman, he will take pity upon you, he will lodge you in his tent. Love will inspire you. You will find the opportunity to pour a few drops of this philter into Franz of Gerolstein's cup – thus you will reach your Prince' – and these are the words which the Queen repeated to me in her letter."

"And guessing that the philter was poison, and fearing to awaken the Queen's suspicions, you feigned readiness to accept the mission of death? That, I suppose, is the complement of your story?"

"Yes, monsieur. I hoped to warn you to be on guard against the dangers that threaten you!"

Exhausted by so many emotions, and crushed with shame, the poor girl dropped down upon one of the benches in the vestry, hid her face in her hands, and wept convulsively.

The revelation, bearing as it did the stamp of irresistible candor, awakened in the heart of Franz of Gerolstein a deep interest for the ill-starred young woman.

"Mademoiselle," he said to her in a firm yet kind tone, "I believe in your sincerity – I believe your account of your misfortunes."

"Now, monsieur, I can die."

"Dismiss such mournful thoughts – perhaps an unexpected consolation awaits you. Owing to certain details that you mentioned concerning your early years, I am almost certain I know your parents. You must have been born at La Rochelle, and was not your father an armorer?"

"Yes!" cried Anna Bell. "Yes! I remember how the sight of glistening arms delighted my eyes in my childhood."

"Did you not, at the time you were kidnapped from your family, wear any collar or other trinket that you may have preserved?"

"I wore around my neck, and have preserved ever since, a little lead medal. I have it here attached to this chain."

Franz of Gerolstein ran to the door of the vestry and called for Josephin. The Franc-Taupin approached, stepping slowly, and engaged in imparting the latest notch to the stick that hung from his cartridge belt: "Seventeen! There are still eight wanting before we reach twenty-five! Oh! My bill shall be paid, by my sister's death! My bill shall be paid!"

Franz of Gerolstein inquired from the Franc-Taupin: "What was the age of Odelin's child when she was kidnapped!"

With a look of surprise the Franc-Taupin answered: "The poor child was eight years old. It is now ten years since the dear little girl disappeared."

"Did she wear anything by which she might be identified?" pursued Franz.

"She wore from her neck," said the Franc-Taupin with a sigh, "a medal of the Church of the Desert, like all other Protestant children. It was a medal that I presented to her mother the day of the little creature's birth."

Franz of Gerolstein held before the Franc-Taupin the medal that Anna Bell had just given him, and said: "Do you recognize this medal? Josephin, this young girl was kidnapped from her family ten years ago – she carried this medal from her neck – "

"Oh!" cried the Franc-Taupin, looking at Anna Bell with renewed confusion. "She is Odelin's daughter! That accounts for my having been from the first struck with her resemblance to Hena."

"Do you, monsieur, know my parents?" it was now Anna Bell's turn to ask. "Pray tell me where I can find them."

But overcome with emotion, the Franc-Taupin said: "But Oh! what a shame for the family! What a disgrace! A maid of honor to the Queen!"

The Franc-Taupin was quickly drawn from his mixed emotions of sorrow and joy. More important work was soon to be done. An officer entered the vestry, bringing orders from Admiral Coligny for the vanguards and outposts to fall back without delay toward St. Yrieix. Franz of Gerolstein immediately conveyed the Admiral's orders to the Avengers of Israel, who crowded behind the officer, and then turned to Anna Bell, saying:

"Mademoiselle, come; remount your litter. We shall escort you to St. Yrieix. I shall impart to you on the road tidings concerning your family – of which I am a member."

"What a revelation to Odelin – and to Antonicq!" the Franc-Taupin thought to himself, "when they learn within shortly, at St. Yrieix, that this unfortunate creature – the disgraced and dishonored maid of honor to the Queen is the daughter of the one and the sister of the other!"

The Avengers of Israel and the squadron of German horsemen, with Franz of Gerolstein at their head, completed their reconnoisance about the forest and fell back upon St. Yrieix. The chapel of St. Hubert remained deserted and wrapped in silence. The morning breeze swung the body of the monk as it hung limp from a branch of the oak-tree in front of the portico of the holy place. Horrible to look at were the features of the corpse. They preserved the impress of the Cordelier's last agonies. The skin was ripped from the head. It had the appearance of being covered with a red skull cap.

Abominable reprisals, without a doubt; and yet less abominable than the crimes of which they record the expiatory vengeance.