Clad like muleteers in some cases, in others like travelling weavers, and in still others like husbandmen and horse-dealers, some scores of Camisards were making their ways by ones and twos at this period toward Cette, avoiding Montpellier and leaving it to the east of them, and threading the low lands that lay between that diocese and the sister one of D'Agde, for they knew where the landing was to be attempted; knew likewise when the English assistance was to be expected. Also--though few were aware of it, and Baville alone, on his side, suspected that such was the case--from Holland, from Geneva, from the villages of the Vaud and Valais, from Canterbury and Spitalfields were coming refugees, some making their way by foot and some on horses. They had been summoned from the lands they had fled to, summoned to return and take part in what was now to be done.
Amid a small band which at this moment drew near to Frontignan there rode Martin Ashurst, his companions being some of the noblest Protestant blood of the province. Also by his side there rode the English agent known as Flottard, a Huguenot whose father had escaped long since into England and who spoke that language better than his own, or rather than the langue d'oc which had been his father's.
"And now, mes frères," said one of these companions, Ulson de la Valette, who as a boy had been forced to stand before the scaffold of Greonble holding his fainting mother's hand while they witnessed the decapitation of his elder brother pour cause d'hérésie, "we must separate, to meet again by Heaven's grace as followers of the English admiral. Monsieur, read the route to our friends," and he turned to a man clad as a monk. He had in truth been one who had but recently been unfrocked at Rome on suspicion of heretic principles, and had now openly avowed Protestantism, while still retaining the gown as a disguise.
"This is the route," the monk answered, producing from his breast a paper which, in the clear light of the dawn, he read from. "You, De la Valette, and you, Fontanes, will pass straight on to Frontignan. You, messieurs les Anglais," and he glanced at Martin and Flottard, "will proceed through La Susc; the rest must distribute themselves and travel through the villages of Sainte Bréze, Collanze, and Le Test. Yet, remember, Baville has warned every aguet, every watchman, every village consul and river guard. Capture and discovery mean death."
"The meeting-place," said Ulson de la Valette, "of all of us is the plain of Frontignan, 'twixt that and the great port. The signal will be the landing of the first English troops, the entry of the first ship of war. The password is 'God and his children.' My friends, farewell; yet, as you ride, forget not to pray for success. If God is on our side now we are avenged and Louis beaten down under our feet. We shall triumph."
A moment later all had parted, dispersing quietly after a hand-shake round, and each going alone, Martin and Flottard remaining behind for some little while so as not to follow too hurriedly upon the footsteps of the others.
"Yet," said Flottard in English, which he spoke like a native, "we must part too, Monsieur Martin. I have to enter Bouziques if I can; 'tis full of disguised Savoyards and some of your--our--land. You will, I should suppose, join Sir Cloudesley Shovel?"
"As agent," Martin replied, "not combatant. My mission is to lead his troops if possible to Montpellier and Nîmes, to act as guide."
"It will not save your neck if you are caught," Flottard said with a laugh.
"There is no thought of that," Martin answered, hurt and annoyed that the man should suppose this was his consideration. "But--but--I have other things to do. To me are to be confided the arms, ammunition, and money which the English fleet brings. Also, with the exception of you and me, there is no one who can speak English."