"My wife and children would be in mortal agony not to see me home this morning," answered Christian. "I shall make the attempt to go through, under shelter of the tumult which, unhappily for our friends, seems to be on the increase. Do you hear those ferocious cries?"
"I do not care to run the danger. Adieu, Christian. I have neither wife nor children. My prolonged absence will cause uneasiness to no one. I prefer to go to the Bastille of St. Antoine. We shall meet shortly, I hope, at the printing shop. May God guard you!"
The two friends separated. Christian, whose anxiety increased every minute, thinking of Mary La Catelle and those with her, decided to enter Paris at all risks. Nevertheless, noticing not far from where he stood a peasant driving a cart filled with vegetables and overspread with a cloth held up by hoops, he said to the rustic, drawing a coin from his pocket:
"Friend, I am exhausted with fatigue. I need a little rest. Would you be so good as to take me in your cart only as far as the center of the city?"
"Gladly, climb in and go to sleep, if you can," answered the peasant as he pocketed the coin.
Christian climbed in, ensconced himself in a corner of the wagon and raised a little fold of the cloth in order to catch a glimpse of what was going on outside, seeing the tumult waxed louder and more threatening. Alas! Hardly had the wagon passed through the gate and entered the city when Christian saw at a little distance Mary La Catelle, her brother-in-law Poille, John Dubourg and Laforge—all four manacled. A troop of archers held back with difficulty the furious mob that loudly clamored for the lives of the "heretics," those "heathens," those "Lutheran stranglers of little children"! Pale, yet calm, the four victims looked serenely upon the surging mass of fanatics. With her eyes raised to heaven and her arms crossed over her bosom, Mary La Catelle seemed resigned to martyrdom. The imprecations redoubled. Already the most infuriate of the populace were picking up stones to stone the victims to death. The wagon in which Christian was concealed slowly pursued its way and saved the artisan the harrowing spectacle of the mob's murderous preparations. Later he learned the details of the arrest of his friends. La Catelle and her brother-in-law, who had long ago been reported by the spy Gainier as hardened heretics, had been recognized and seized by the agents of the Criminal Lieutenant, who had been posted since midnight at the Montmartre Gate. John Dubourg and Laforge, who came a few steps behind La Catelle, having yielded to a generous impulse and run to her assistance, were, in punishment for the very nobility of their act, likewise suspected, arrested and manacled. Christian also learned later that Lefevre was the informer against the meeting of the reformers at Montmartre. The bits of paper Lefevre had picked up while directing the search of the sergeant in the garret of Christian's house, proved to be bits of Calvin's draft convoking the assembly, and on one of these the word Montmartre was to be read. Armed with this evidence, Lefevre had hastened to impart his suspicions to the Criminal Lieutenant, and caused the patrol to be ordered afield; but these, finding themselves confronted with the seigneurs at the entrance of the quarry, and seeing these determined to resist them, had not dared to effect an arrest.
Christian jumped out of the wagon in the center of Paris and hastened his steps towards his house. Hardly had he stepped upon the Exchange Bridge when he saw the Franc-Taupin running towards him. Josephin had watched all night for the artisan's return. He informed him of the arrest of his wife and children, of the danger that awaited him if he entered his house, and induced him to take refuge in a place of safety.
CHAPTER XIV.
HENA'S DIARY.
After being separated from her mother, Hena Lebrenn was taken to the Augustinian Convent and locked up. One day during her confinement she narrated the incidents of her incarceration in a letter destined for Bridget, but which never reached the ill-starred mother, due to a series of distressful circumstances. Hena wrote:
"December, 1534. At the Convent of the Augustinians.