nearer; several voices were distinguished, a noise proceeded from the road and garden, so that it appeared, that they were taking possession of all the outlets. Immediately afterwards a knocking was heard at the door. The servants drew near, but at a mute signal from their master they remained tranquil; immediately the tumult became louder and several voices raised an unintelligible cry, Edmond grew warm, his father looked at him significantly; but soon, however, the name of the hermit resounded clearly and distinctly from out of the confused murmur. "They demand him," cried Edmond; "They are the Camisards!" The cry was repeated, they knocked louder, they became even noisy, the screams of women and the cries of children were now also heard; the Counsellor caused all the weapons to be brought forward, he was hastily distributing them to the servants, when trembling and ghastly pale the tall figure of the hermit, half dressed, tottered in, followed by the priest, bewildered and terrified; both seized the hand of their host, and while they were firing without, the knocking at the door and demands for the hermit became more violent. "Oh, heaven! compassion!" exclaimed the latter, "thou hast heard my oath, that I would in future refrain from blood, but it is too late, I am a victim to their vengeance!" With these words the tremendous figure fell senseless to the ground in utter despair! the child rushed into the hall with her maid; terrified and crying aloud she threw herself into her father's arms; the latter tried to comfort her, but one could see in his pale countenance, that he himself entertained but little hope. "I will protect you as long as I can," cried he, "but the multitude appears too great to allow of my defending the house." Fire! fire! cried a hundred voices from without at the same time, and lighted fire brands were seen through the windows! at that moment the door was shaken, by large trees, which were thrown against it like battering rams. "Oh heavens!" cried the priest, while his teeth chattered, "had I but the tenth part of my former courage,--but I am not at all prepared for this, I have slept a little already, which has completely relaxed my spirit." He took off his hat, "how impolite I am!" sighed he, but it was almost laughable, even in that moment, that under this he still wore his night-cap, without being aware of it, and in wandering about in every corner of the hall, he carried his hat in his hand. The huntsman now stole in, took his loaded gun from the shelf, and placed himself quietly by the chimney; "whither are you going" exclaimed Edmond, "out with the rifle, you must all defend yourselves!" "Impossible," stammered the man, "give up the old villain, otherwise the whole house is lost, I know the Camisards." "Scoundrel!" thundered the young man--"where is the miller? Still in bed? all of you, you miserable varlets, shall defend this place with me, nay, even that weak, effeminate boy shall make common cause with us."
"The hermit was praying on the ground, all were shouting confusedly in the hall, but no word was heard distinctly; all was confounded with the storm, which every moment became more violent without. The window-frames were demolished, the door cracked and appeared to give way, when, with an apparent air of indifference, the young miller entered, carelessly tying his neckerchief and said: 'Let me out by the back-door, I will speak to the enraged multitude,--quick, give me the key!' These last words were uttered in a tone of command. The old Lord looked at him, took the key from the wall, and opened the door to him himself, the youth went round to the other side of the house. Edmond posted himself with a loaded gun opposite the door, in order to fire among the assailants, in case they succeeded in forcing an entrance. Suddenly a tremendous shout was raised, which seemed like acclamations of joy and was reiterated by the crowds surrounding the house. Then all was still; and after a while a deep voice exclaimed: 'He must come out the assassin, on this spot he shall be torn to pieces!' 'Merciful God,' cried the hermit from the ground, where he still lay, 'that is the terrible Catinat, who knows no compassion!'--after a few words exchanged among them, the high and almost hoarse voice of the youth was heard. 'Silence all,' cried he vehemently: nothing more could be distinguished, for a confused murmur arose. The child glancing from under her dishevelled fair long tresses, said: 'Observe, my little David will yet save that great Goliath there.' The crowds without drew themselves up and marched away, the youth returned again by the garden-door, much heated and nearly breathless; he approached, the hermit still lying prostrate, fixed his eyes upon him, then caught him by the breast and said, 'rise up, God has again spared you to-day, you are safe, return to the town or to your own house:' He then turned to the huntsman, whispered something in his ear, whereupon the latter suddenly fell terrified upon his knees and exclaimed, 'Mercy!' 'Be silent!' said the young miller hastily. The priest looked as if he could have embraced the knees of the wonderful youth, who now turned to the master of the house, and said, in gentle tones: 'my honoured host, I consider myself fortunate in having been able to protect you; there were certainly a few Camisards, but the crowd was principally composed of a number of drunken millers-men from my part of the country, who had met with some other rough, intoxicated fellows. It was lucky, that I was known to some of them, in consequence of which, the small number of Camisards also suffered themselves to be pacified. It seems that they assembled more for pleasure than for any wicked purpose. Receive my thanks for your noble hospitality, worthy and honoured man.' He bowed, the old Lord seemed as if he wished to embrace him, but the opportunity was lost in irresolution and the stranger was already at the door.
"Farewell David!" exclaimed the child. He looked back once more with a serious and enquiring expression, raised his hand and eyes as if invoking a blessing, and then quitted the hall.
Those who remained behind, looked at one another as if they had witnessed the performance of a miracle. The first light of morning already dawned, and the dense multitude was seen retreating over the mountains, Edmond was standing in deep thought, and the old Lord, after having unlocked his gun, gave it to the servant, to carry away. The hermit drew near abashed, as if he felt considerably diminished in size since the day before. "I leave your house, my Lord," said he, in a voice scarcely audible, and with a heart greatly depressed; "I had almost drawn upon your honoured head the malediction attending my own errors, but the Lord has averted it." He took the road to Nismes; the huntsman had already slipped away.
"My Lord Counsellor of Parliament," cried the priest, "you have not seen us to-day in the most favourable light, now that all has passed off happily; I am a man again; courage revives once more within me, I could now show you that I am no coward, if a few of these villains would but return. Receive my thanks, honoured sir, and you too my young--but what do I see?" Now, for the first time, he perceived that he was politely taking leave with his hat in his hand, and his night-cap still on his head;--abashed he pulled it off, and thrust it into his pocket?--"This is the worst of all," said he, his whole face reddening; "One may thus see to what a sensible man may be reduced in these troublous times." He again made a hasty bow and retreated.
"Who was this youth?" asked the old Lord. "Probably one of those infamous rebels," replied Edmond in great wrath; "I had rendered perhaps a service to God and the king, if I had sent this ball after him!" "Father," said the child, "believe me, he was the angel Gabriel, and brother Edmond will yet be converted, and love him as I do." "Go to bed again, my little one," said her father, "you require rest, poor child!"
"That was no good night," said Eveline, "so now good morning, father! it grows so beautifully bright!" she retired with the female attendants, and Edmond and his father alone remained behind in the saloon. They were both silent for a long time, at length Edmond took his gun, and said, "what do you think of all this, and especially of this mysterious fellow, who can demean himself so innocently, and with so much naïveté?"
"I must not express my thoughts," answered his father, "perhaps they would sound too romantic. You will leave us again, my son? and probably will not come back to dinner?"
"You know," replied Edmond, "my passion for hunting and the delight I take in mountains and forests; nature elevates us above our suffering; she strengthens our feelings; she inspires and gives us that noble vigour, which becomes but too often enervated in society, and in every day life. This will be a glorious day after the storm; I will forget all that I have experienced here."
"Let us but bring to nature a pious and purified spirit," said his father, "and she becomes to us the holiest of temples, psalms and songs of praise will then re-echo our holy inspirations; but her gloomy rocks and waterfalls, her desolate solitude with black masses of clouds brooding above, her wild echo can also excite still more the uneasy, agitated mind, and arouse more powerfully the turbulent spirit, for she answers only as she is questioned."
"I will therefore speak to her in my way,"