She let him go, not adding another word; and when he was beyond hearing she sank again upon the bench where they two had sat together. Marriage with Étienne; she had never thought of it, and suddenly she realized that her whole nature shrank from it. She dropped her face in her hands, for a moment sitting very still, then, with a swift determination, she ran to find her nurse.
“Michelle, Michelle,” she cried, taking the good woman’s comforting arms and folding them around herself, “I am sorely pressed. Tell me what to do. My father, did you know? he is Protestant. Étienne has just told me of his admission, and that he has disappeared, he could not tell where. Oh, Michelle, what shall I do? What shall I do? I am afraid of Étienne, I am afraid.”
The mother look on Michelle’s broad face deepened into one of anxiety. “My lamb! My lamb!” she murmured. “An hour of great distress is at hand. Yes, I know. I have known for some time, but for your sake, my pretty one, your father has not declared his convictions for fear you would be stolen from him.”
“And now! Ah, Michelle!” She then told of her cousin Étienne’s proposal and her own distress. “Ah, that I knew my father’s desires!” she cried. “Shall I ever see him again? If I thought I could find him I would hie me forth this very night.”
“And forsake all else?”
“Yes, yes.”
“You would be willing to become a refugee for his sake? You would give up the protection and comfort you would find in your aunt’s home to become a wanderer? You would give up your Church?”
“Yes, and more, if it gave me a chance to again be united to my father; a thousand times yes. Those whom I love best upon earth, whom from childhood I have been accustomed to obey, have become Protestants, why should an ignorant girl dare to say they are not right? My father, you, and Father Bisset, have you not all been my teachers and guardians? Shall I forsake you now?”
“My infant! My child of the good heart!” cried Michelle, weeping copiously. “I am the one to lead you forth from your own country, and I cannot hesitate.” She thrust her hand under the kerchief folded across her bosom and drew forth a paper. “Read,” she said, holding it out to the girl.
“From my father!” cried Alaine. “What does he say?” She took the letter and read rapidly. “He sees danger ahead; he does not know how it will result. Some one has contrived to undermine him when he felt safe, and he may have to make an effort to escape to England or to Holland. Listen, Michelle: ‘Should my daughter desire to remain in France, or should she declare herself unable to accept my belief, do not urge her, but allow her to remain with her relations, and bear to her my love and last blessing. But should she wish to join me in London, Christian friends at the French church on Threadneedle Street will be able to give her word of me if I succeed in making my escape. We can no longer, my good Michelle, expect tolerance, now that the Edict of Nantes has been revoked, and for your own sake I would advise you to leave the country. But my little daughter, should you desert her, where will her comfort be?’