Collected Works of Eugène Sue

by Eugène Sue

  Christian led Robert Estienne to the apartment of the young monk, and leaving the two alone, impatiently awaited the issue of their interview, whereupon he was to see Hena.

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  FOR BETTER AND FOR WORSE.

  SISTER ST. FRANCES-IN-THE-TOMB, as Hena Lebrenn was christened in religion, occupied in the cottage a chamber contiguous to that of her father. The young girl still wore the nun’s garb. The pallor of her visage, framed in the folds of her coif and her long white veil, was hardly distinguishable from the dull whiteness of the linen. Pain and resignation were traced on her features, that emaciation rendered almost transparent. Seated near a window, her hands clasped over her knees, and her large blue eyes raised to heaven, she seemed to contemplate without seeing them the somber clouds which the north wind drove before it with weird moanings. Hena’s thoughts turned upon the events of the last three days. Despite her decision to devote herself to a nun’s life, as the only means of again seeing her family, to live never again under the same roof with her brother whose passion for her inspired the maid with invincible horror, and to bury forever in the chilly shadows of the cloister her fatal love for St. Ernest-Martyr — despite these sentiments, on the night that, her vows being pronounced, she was praying in the solitude of the Virgin’s chapel, she welcomed her uncle Josephin as a liberator, and never hesitated an instant to flee with him from the convent of the Augustinian sisters. She was ignorant of her mother’s fate. The hope of soon, after so cruel a separation, being again in the embrace of the parents she loved so dearly, occupied all her thoughts. When, upon seeing Christian again, the young girl learned of her mother’s death, the persecutions that he himself was the object of, and the presence of Brother St. Ernest-Martyr in the same retreat, her head reeled. Weakened by suffering and bewildered by so many unexpected events, the girl’s mind threatened for a moment to go astray. Her native vigor carried, however, the day. She said to herself:

  “My duty is clear. I shall stay near my father. I shall endeavor with my tenderness to soften his sorrow for the loss of my mother. He must flee this place. I shall accompany him in his exile. I shall also take my mother’s place to my brother Odelin. I shall not endeavor to forget Brother St. Ernest-Martyr. But, while preserving this love sacred in the recesses of my heart, to you, O, my God, I pray — grant through Your infinite mercy that this love do not kill me — grant to preserve my life for the sake of my father, who stands in need of my care and my affection!”

  Such were the reflections of the young girl, when, some hours after his interview with Robert Estienne, she saw Christian enter her chamber. The printer’s face reflected suppressed happiness. Tears, sweet tears they now were, flowed from his eyes. Despite his desire not to betray his joy before his daughter, lest he cause her too deep an emotion, he could not withhold pressing her repeatedly to his heart, and covering her face with kisses. Touched by such tender effusion, and struck by the change in her father’s appearance, Hena cried:

  “God be praised, father, you bring me good news! Are you no longer pursued? You will no longer have to keep in hiding?”

  Christian shook his head, and still holding his daughter in his arms, contemplated her, enraptured. He sat down; placed her on his knees, as a little child is placed; and in a voice that trembled with emotion, said:

  “Yes, my dear Hena; yes, my beloved child, I have good news for you — but not what you thought. We are soon to leave this retreat, where our persecutors might discover us, and we shall go far away from here, in order to escape all pursuit.”

  “And yet, father, your voice trembles with joy. I read happiness on your face.”

  “The good, the unexpected tidings that I bring — concern you — you alone—”

  “Me alone, father?”

  “No; not you alone — what is good to you, is it not good to me also?”

  Hena looked at her father, surprised. The latter hesitated to say more, fearing the consequences of too sudden a revelation. He paused for a moment and proceeded:

  “Do you know, my child, what the pastor of the reformed religion is?”

  “I believe he is a minister of the Evangelium; is it not?”

  “Yes, the pastors spread the Evangelical word. But, contrary to the Catholic priests, who are condemned to celibacy by the Church, the ministers of the reformed cult are free to contract matrimony, and to fulfil its obligations.”

  A smile of sadness flitted over Hena’s lips. Her father followed her closely with his eyes. He fathomed her secret thoughts.

  “The right of its ministers to be husbands and fathers, recognized by the Evangelical church, has induced several Catholic priests to break with Rome and embrace the Reformation.”

  Dropping her head upon her father’s shoulder, Hena wept. Christian drew himself slightly back in order to raise the tear-bedewed visage of his daughter, whom he still kept upon his knees, his arms around her, and his heart beating with hope.

  “Hena, no doubt you have been thinking to yourself: ‘Alas, Brother St. Ernest-Martyr is a Catholic priest!’”

  “You have guessed my thoughts, dear father. I thought to myself there was nothing for me but to bow before so fatal a state of things. But let us talk about that good news which you seem so anxious to impart to me.”

  “Very well, dear child — but in order not to have to return again to a matter painful to you, I shall begin by saying that Brother St. Ernest-Martyr, or rather Ernest Rennepont, which is his real name, withdraws himself from the Catholic Church and embraces the Reformation.”

  Christian felt Hena trembling convulsively upon his knees. The poor child carried both her hands to her face, whence fresh drops of tears flowed down upon her robe.

  “My dear child,” resumed the artisan, hardly able to repress his gladness, “there is still another confession which I expect from your frankness. You are saying to yourself, are you not: ‘Ernest Rennepont abjured his vows — he is free — he can now choose a wife — if he would only love me!’”

  “Father, good father, let us drop such thoughts!”

  “Oh, my beloved child!” cried the artisan radiant with joy. “Oh, my only support, my only consolation! Courage! Courage! Not now any more in order to resist sorrow — but to defend you — from the transports that an unexpected happiness often causes us—”

  “An unexpected happiness, father?”

  “Yes, the gladsome tidings that I bring to you are — first, Ernest Rennepont’s resolution to become a pastor of the Evangelical church. Thus he is free to marry, without discontinuing his services to God. Yes, and do you know, Hena, that if the most cherished wish of his heart is verified, do you know, Hena, who would be the wife of his choice? It would be — it would be you — you, my treasure! Ernest Rennepont loves you to distraction since the day he first saw you at Mary La Catelle’s.”

  Despite the precautions taken by her father, Hena could not resist the shock of the revelation. Still holding his daughter upon his knees, Christian saw her lose color, her head dropped upon his shoulder, she lost consciousness. He rose, carried the girl to her bed, at the head of which he knelt down, and awaited the end of the crisis that the excess of joy had brought on. A moment later he heard a rap at the door. He asked:

  “Is it you, Monsieur Estienne?”

  “Yes — and I am not alone.”

  “Do not come in now,” answered Christian. “Hena is in a swoon. I fear that in recovering consciousness the sight of her betrothed might cause an immediate relapse.”

  Certain motions of Hena, and the light flush that by degrees returned to her cheeks, announced the girl’s gradual recovery. Her eyes remained half shut. She turned her haggard face towards her father. Presently, fixing upon him her still partly veiled eyes, she seemed to interrogate her confused recollections.

  “No, my dear child,” said the artisan; “it is not a dream. You are not the sport of an illusion. Ernest Rennepont renounces the monastic life; he embraces the Evangelical creed, of which he will be
a pastor. He has long loved you with the purest and noblest love. I surprised the secret of his soul. Never did father wish for his daughter a husband more worthy of esteem and affection.” And pointing with his finger to the door: “He is there, accompanied by our friend, Monsieur Estienne. Do you feel yourself strong enough to receive them, my poor, dear child? Would you like to have them come in?”

  “He loves me!” cried Hena, taking her father’s hands and kissing them. “He loves me, also! Since when?”

  “Yes, yes — he will tell you all that himself,” answered Christian with a smile of ineffable happiness. “He is there. He awaits but your consent to come to you, my dear child.”

  Hena sat up on her couch, placed one of her hands on her heart to restrain its throbs and still too much moved to speak, made to her father an affirmative sign. The artisan thereupon introduced Robert Estienne, supporting on his arm Ernest Rennepont. At that moment the sound of a horse’s hoofs was heard from the yard. Yielding to an involuntary sense of uneasiness, Christian ran to the window, and was at once put at ease at seeing his brother-in-law the Franc-Taupin alighting from his mount. Hena and Ernest Rennepont, strangers to what went on around them, saw but each other. When the young man was near enough to the couch on which Hena was seated, he dropped on his knees before her, clasped his hands, and raised up to her his pale visage, now radiant with celestial bliss. Unable to utter a word, the two contemplated each other, absorbed. Robert Estienne could not hold back the tears that gathered in his eyes. The artisan stepped towards the two lovers, took Hena’s hand, placed it in Ernest Rennepont’s, who had remained on his knees, and said in a voice broken with emotion:

  “Be betrothed — never have nobler hearts been worthier of each other.”

  Christian was pronouncing these solemn words when the Franc-Taupin entered. Already informed by his brother-in-law of the mutual love of the two young folks, the soldier of adventure thrilled with joy at seeing them united.

  “Know the rest, my friend,” said the artisan to Josephin. “My daughter and he who from this day is my son owe their liberty to you. You are entitled to know all that concerns them. Ernest Rennepont renounces his monastic vows; he abjures Catholicism and embraces the Reformation, of which he is to be a pastor. As you know, the Evangelical pastors can marry.”

  “It is my advice that the marriage be promptly concluded,” answered the Franc-Taupin in a low voice as he led Christian and Robert Estienne to the window, while the betrothed couple remained under the spell of a profound ecstasy, hearing nothing, seeing nothing of what happened around them. The Franc-Taupin proceeded in a low voice: “I have come from Paris in a hurry. I heard an announcement made to the sound of trumps, to the effect that Sister St. Frances-in-the-Tomb and Brother St. Ernest-Martyr are adjudged relapsed, and subject to the punishment visited upon such a sin — the stake!”

  “The stake!” muttered Robert Estienne, shivering with horror, while making an instant sign intended to check an exclamation of terror that Christian was on the point of giving vent to.

  “Time presses,” proceeded the Franc-Taupin. “My brother-in-law, his daughter and the young monk must leave this house this very night. It will not be safe to-morrow.”

  “I am of your opinion,” answered Robert Estienne. “This is the way we shall proceed: You, Josephin, will return to Paris on the spot with a letter from me to one of our pastors, urging him to come here this very evening in order to take the abjuration of Ernest Rennepont, and give his nuptial benediction to the betrothed couple. Immediately after, Hena and her husband will set out, with you, and Christian, who will take my horse. His daughter will ride on the crupper.”

  “The young monk shall ride behind me on my nag,” said the Franc-Taupin. “I shall escort the fugitives to a distance of five or six leagues from Paris.”

  “When you come back here bring with you lay clothes for the young couple,” said Robert Estienne, handing his purse to the Franc-Taupin. “You will also pay the price of your nag to the stableman from whom you have the animal. Ernest Rennepont shall keep it, and ride on it with Christian and his daughter to La Rochelle. Only there will they all three be safe. There is not an instant to lose. Quick, to horse, Josephin, to horse! The lives of us all are at stake.”

  The Franc-Taupin left hurriedly, casting a tender look upon Hena and Ernest Rennepont. The two, their hearts in heaven, remained ignorant of the new dangers that threatened them. The eyes of the Society of Jesus were open.

  Midnight soon arrived. Robert Estienne, Christian, his daughter, Ernest Rennepont and the Franc-Taupin assembled in the parlor of the country house, the unsafe refuge that they were soon to quit. An old man, with long white hair, the pastor of the Evangelical church, responded to the call of Robert Estienne, in order to receive the abjuration of the betrothed couple and bestow upon them his nuptial benediction. A table with a few wax candles stood at the rear of the apartment. On the table were also an ink-horn, pens, paper, and a little pocket Bible with silver clasps. Hena and Ernest Rennepont were in front of the table. Behind it stood the pastor. Robert Estienne, Christian and the Franc-Taupin assisted the betrothed couple. The agitation caused by so many unexpected events, and the intoxication of repressed happiness animated the recently pallid countenances of the bride and bridegroom. Wrapped in meditation, and their thoughts turning to the past, they raised their souls to God in a transport of speechless gratitude. They implored the mercy of their Creator. There was nothing terrestrial in their love. They saw in the consecration of their marriage only the right to devote themselves to each other, to vie in mutual sacrifices and abnegation, and to serve the holy cause of progress. They knew the perils that the apostles of the new doctrine must confront.

  Taking from the table a sheet of paper, the pastor read in a solemn voice the following act of abjuration:

  “‘On this 19th day of December, 1534, appeared before us Ernest Rennepont, called in his religion Brother St. Ernest-Martyr, and Louise Hena Lebrenn, called in her religion Sister St. Frances-in-the-Tomb, who declare they desire to renounce the Roman idolatry, and swear to confess the Evangelical religion, to live and die in the faith, and to participate in the holy sacrament of communion. Upon these conditions Louise Hena Lebrenn and Ernest Rennepont have been informed that they will be admitted to the Evangelical church’ — Be pleased to sign the act of abjuration.”

  Hena and Ernest signed the act with steady hands. Thereupon they knelt down upon two seats brought in by Christian and the Franc-Taupin. The pastor resumed, and addressed the couple with a moved voice:

  “You, Hena Lebrenn, and you, Ernest Rennepont, will you live together in the marriage state that God himself has instituted, and which St. Paul represents as among the most honorable of conditions? If that is your intention, Hena Lebrenn and Ernest Rennepont, make your will known. Are you willing to be united to each other?”

  “Yes,” answered Ernest, raising his eyes as if to take heaven for his witness.

  “Yes,” answered Hena in her turn.

  “Then,” resumed the pastor, “may the Lord deign to bless your wishes. You, Ernest Rennepont, do you declare, here before God, that you have taken and do hereby take Hena Lebrenn, here present, for your wife? Do you promise to live holily with her, to be true to her, as is the duty of a good and faithful husband, and God commands you by His word?”

  “Yes!” answered Ernest Rennepont.

  “And you, Hena Lebrenn, do you declare here before God, that you have taken and do hereby take Ernest Rennepont, here present, for your husband? Do you promise to love him, to live holily with him, and to keep your troth to him as is the duty of a faithful wife, and as God commands you by His word?”

  “Yes,” answered Hena, with her eyes modestly cast down.

  “Keep your promises to each other,” said the pastor in conclusion. “Seeing God has united you in the sacred bonds of matrimony, live together in peace, in unity, in purity, helpful to each other, and faithful to your pledge, obedient to the divine c
ommand. Oh, Lord God! Lord of wisdom and of goodness!” added the Evangelical pastor, joining his venerable hands in prayer, “since it has pleased Thee to call this man and this woman to the holy state of matrimony — should it be Thy will that children be born to them, cause them, as worthy husband and wife, to raise their offspring in piety and to train them to virtue.”

  The touching solemnity of the ceremony was suddenly interrupted by the precipitate entrance of Michael, the gardener. Pale and distracted he rushed to the house and threw the door open, crying:

  “Monsieur Estienne — malediction upon me! You are betrayed!”

  A moment of silent stupor ensued upon these words. Hena threw herself instinctively into her father’s arms. Ernest Rennepont approached her. The Franc-Taupin dashed to the window and listened in the direction of the yard, while the pastor raised his eyes heavenward, saying:

  “Oh, Lord, if Thou reservest me for martyrdom, the victim is ready, may Thy will be done!”

  “We are betrayed, Michael?” cried Robert Estienne. “Who could have betrayed us?”

  “My wife — Oh, that accursed confession! Alison revealed to our curate that a monk and a nun were here in hiding. My wife has just admitted it to me amid tears. The curate departed post haste to Paris, immediately after confessing and extracting the secret from her. Death and a curse upon the infamous wretch!”

  And throwing himself at the feet of Robert Estienne, Michael cried with clasped hands:

  “My good and worthy master! Do not take me for a wicked or dishonorable man. I am not guilty of the treason!”

  “To horse!” bellowed the Franc-Taupin. “We must depart at once! The curate will have notified his bishop, the bishop will have notified Cardinal Duprat, and he will have issued orders to the Criminal Lieutenant. By this time the archers must be on the road to St. Ouen. Let us lose not an instant — to horse! Mine is saddled — have yours saddled, Monsieur Estienne. Christian will take his daughter on the crupper of his horse. I shall take Ernest Rennepont on my nag — and, away at a gallop! We shall soon be out of reach.”