The Pocket Bible or Christian the Printer

pin left the house the s

ation to me. The past life of Ignatius

nterest, curiosity and even alarm

t of her reminded him it was urgent that the stranger be taken to the garret before the

children have reti

are to hide Monsieur John, our guest of this evening, in this house. The garret seems to me to offer a safe retreat. I

eposited upon the table, and said to the stra

remain with Christian and myself;

your generous hospitality;" and addressing the artisan: "Could you join me

eparture," Christian answered the strange

as to go out to the help of the woman whose cries resounded ever more plaintive. Considering, however, that no decent woman would venture outside of her house at such a late hour, and, above all, fearing that by interfering in the affray he might provoke an assault upon his house and thereby put the safety of his guest in jeopardy, he contented himself with partly opening the window, whereupon, by the light of the torches held by several pages

yelled one of the seigneurs, seizing the woman by the waist. "A street walker to

he poor creature panting for breath in th

f the debauchees. "'Sdeath, what a wi

screamed aloud for help. Attracted by the cries, a young monk, who happened to be in a nearby side street, ran to the s

t the very foot of the cross! That

I have the power, not only to kill you, but to excommunicate you, you beggar? I am the Marquis of Fleurange, the colonel of the regiment of Normandy, and over and above that, Bishop of Coutances. So, then, go yo

y La Catelle!" cried the young widow, as she recognized the m

u are outraging is a saint! She gathers the little children that are left unprotected;

relations are close!" answered the Marquis of Fleurange with a winey guffaw. "

led, swore and blasphemed, while Brother St. Ernest-Martyr threw himself between the widow, who clung to the cross, and her assailants. Cro

but you will have to kill me

and drawing his sword in its scabbard out of his baldric, he took it in both his hands, and struck so hard a blow with its heavy hilt upon the foreh

with; moreover, he feared lest the monk, who had so generously interposed between the drunken seigneurs and their victim, be subjected to further maltreatment. Christian shut the window, armed himself with a heavy iron bar, slipped

men to be assailed, and defenseless men to be killed? To you

dge with the pot of Argenteuil wine that he had gone after. Seeing the artisan by the light of the torches and hearing him summon the neigh

the air for a long time! It itches in my hands! Death to the enemie

or a moment the three seigneurs stood their ground bravely; they drew close abreast of one another and drew their swords. Their

constables coming this way! There, on

ise the wounded man. The artisan ran back into his house, lighted, and came out with a taper. By the light the monk was discovered stretched out at the foot of the cross, with his head bathed in the blood that ran profusely from his scalp wound. On her knees beside him, and weeping tears of thankfulness, Mary La Catelle sought to staunch the wound of her defender. Brother St. Ernest-Martyr was carried into Christian's house with the help of the Franc-Taupin and some neighbors. The artisan offered asylum also to the widow, who was almost fainting

oach the young widow. "Look at the poor monk

poor servant was frightened and ran away, leaving me alone. The men sought to drag me away with them. Brother St. Ernest-Martyr happening by, came to my rescue; he received on the forehead a blow with the h

he Franc-Taupin to Bridget. Having often been wounded in war the

g my daughter down to help you," answered B

lle drew nearer to the monk with deepening interest.

he show the white feather? I would h

shortly before the disturbance on the street

he head of the friar, "I shall pour a few drops of wine down the wounded man's throat; the devil! wine has the miraculous power of being as helpful to the sick as to the well;" and taking up the pot

latter of whom the Franc-Taupin was administering a few mouthfuls of the comforting wine. Speedily recalled to himself by the strengthening elixir, Brother St. Ernest-Martyr opened his eyes. Before him he saw, like a celestial apparition, the angelic countenance of Hena, who, with eyes moist with pity, held out to her uncle with a trembling hand the lint that he was using to dress the wound of the monk whose head Christian held in his hands. When he had completely regained consciousness and collected his thoughts, the monk became aware of the solicitude with which he was surrounded by the family that had taken him in; tears of gratitude and tenderness welled

tranger to you. May heaven place it some day in my power to attest to y

often did our mutual friend Mary La Catelle speak to us of you and of the esteem that you deserve. Besides, my wife often was present

aimed Mary La Catelle. "What is known of him is like nothing be

gerate my poor deserts; I love little ones; to instruct them is a pleasure to me and their affe

of all who know you; I shall say nothing of how, a short time ago, you rushed to my defense at the risk of your life; I shall not say how, onl

else would have done as much. We all in this world owe assistance to our fellows." As the young monk spoke these words, his eyes involuntarily again encountered Hena's; he sought to flee from their influence upon him; he rose from his stool, and said to Christian: "Adieu, mon

dressed, and you would leave the house so soon? Rest yourself a

lies dangerously ill. Night is now far advanced, allow me to withdraw. I think that the fresh air will do me good," and respectfully bowing to Hena and her mother, blu

widow; "but I am less courageous than you; I would not dare to return home to-night a

have allowed you to go?" answered Chris

. The latter's modest bearing, the sweetness of his countenance, the good words that all had for him, deeply moved Josephin, who, his soldier's manners and the adventurous life he led notwithsta

onvent. It is common with blows received on the skull, to be followed after a while b

ately; "thanks for your kind thoughtfulnes

t I can not consent to your troubling yourself by escorting me. The function wit

enet! These frockists deafen their neighborhood with the clatter of their bells, on the theory that the mass that is well rung is half said. They mumble their prayers in order to earn their fat soups, not to save souls. You, however, my reverend man, you who plow the field of science, you who defend the oppressed, you who comfort the sorrowful, you who sacrifice your life for others, you who are the prop of the poor, you who indoctrinate the little ones like a good

ook pleasure in listening to him bestowing, after his own fashion, praise upon the friar. Hena, above all, seemed with her ingenuous and delighted sm

you rather to pity and pardon them; if they are different from what you take them for, if they are worthy beings, pray devoutly that they may p

Bridget, Hena and Hervé successively. "The only one wanting to my hugs is my little Odelin. But by the bowels of St. Quenet! I shall not do like the paymaster

hts flew to her absent son. "May he soon again be back

u," interjected Christian. "It seems to me so

elebrate his return! What a joy it will be to us to make him forget the trials of the journey! What a delight it w

a word on the abse

ad dropped for a moment, the young m

lity and your happy home, the sanctuary of the

eems to me I leave the big devil of hell behind me at the door; and whenever I go out again, I feel as if I am quitting paradise. Look out! Who knows but Beelzebub, the wicke

et led La Catelle to Hena's chamber; and Christian cl

s fists clenched and his lips drawn t

y he resumed: "What a scheme! Yes, yes-it will remove even the shadow of a suspici

ction of the staircase by which Mary La Catelle, Bridget a