The Rebellion in the Cevennes, an Historical Novel. Vol. II.

by Ludwig Tieck

As they again issued from the ruins, they were met by the tall figure of Lacoste. "Edmond," cried he, "you and your compeers carry on a damnable trade. I have kept myself concealed the whole day, that I might not look upon the enormity. The ceremony of your worship is too severe. Your God is indulgent, for otherwise he would shew himself somewhat more rigorous in it. I thought I had already experienced every thing and understood every body; but in my present high school I still learn many new things."

How astounded were Lacoste and the priest as each found again a friend of his youth in the other. "You are then that pious, sighing, youth," exclaimed Lacoste in amazement, who in the eyes of his Euphemie would see and find the whole Empyraeum? We now wander afar over the flowers of your religious elysium. But tread firmly, for these eyes and noses no longer feel our heels, these faces are only the discarded masks, which still lie about from yesterday's gala. Yes, these masqueraders have destroyed much clothing, that can never be mended again, they have been reduced to tatters at once by extravagant insolence. Aye! aye! Edmond, your reverend cordelier, his hair is become white since then, like the yellow flowers of the meadow, which the first blast uproots. Where is Euphemie? Where Lucy, where our tears and sighs of those days? You have become a little old man in an instant: and, is it not true, that those youthful feelings appeal to you even now sometimes, but like dumb children, with their countenances? Now perform a little bit of a miracle with your superabundant love, and awaken these dead again which lie here in our way. But the question is, whether they would thank you for it, since they have once made a step to the other side, though rather in a neck-breaking manner; for if examined closely, that so called life is a cursedly tedious and base affair, and if one is to expect jokes like these every day, such as have been practised on these fellows here, then really one must be damnably sunk in bad habits, not to put an end to this miserable existence by a single gash on the throat. But thus indeed are we all.

In these conversations they passed the night. The venerable pastor replied but little. Neither did his exhaustion permit him, which was so great, that he was often compelled to rest. As the hours passed the more agitated he became and the more he wished to end quickly his days in the ruins of his beloved commune, for he did not know why he should still wish to live. Edmond talked to him filially and affectionately, as a son, and the old man heartily forgave all the evil that the youth had drawn upon him, "If I could, only see thy father once more before my death!" exclaimed he much affected, or--grief did not permit him to say more, but Edmond guessed what he meant. After they had reposed several times, with the early dawn they reached a village, which lay pleasantly among some green trees. They determined on breakfasting here, in order to be able to continue their way to Florac, Edmond felt as if his whole life and being would dissolve in dream and mist. As they arrived before a small house, in the upper story of which some men appeared, but who quickly drew back at the sight of the regimentals, Edmond said to himself, "I am on the point of becoming mad, for I now see the figures of my mind; it was indeed as if I perceived my father and Christine, and Eveline; and only because I here escort the two friends of his youth." They were going to inquire for the inn of an old man, who was gathering herbs in a small garden, when the wife came out of the house and begged of them to accompany her, since she herself had business at the inn, and that it was not so easy to find it, because it lay in another street, and in an out of the way place, where there was but very little business carried on, and had no communication with any high road.

With this information, the chatterer accompanied them to the neat little inn of the place. The people had only just risen, and were terrified when they saw the soldiers, for since the attack on the not far distant district, the whole country was filled with terror. Wine, bread, and warm drink also revived the weary travellers, and Eustace and Bertrand with some others kept watch, that they might not be unexpectedly surprised. "Who lives in the upper story of your house?" inquired Edmond of the old woman.

"Ah! good heavens!" responded she, "they are poor unfortunate people, whose property the wicked rebels have burnt. A peasant, a poor cousin of mine, has now fled to me with his daughter and his sister's son, and who knows whether the flambeau of wrath, with which the Lord of Hosts in his anger will light us home, is not already on its way to our little cottage. For where is safety, or security now a days as formerly? Verily, all is affliction and warfare, and the strangest fatality drives men here and there, as has happened only in old marvelous stories, and the troubles only increase, and suspicion becomes greater. Where one only sees a soldier, one might creep into a mole's hole, even though one should be of the very best and exact faith."

"Is your trumpeter not come back yet?"

"He must have clean disappeared," answered the old woman; "but my foolish husband grieves about the knave, and thinks that some misfortune must have happened to him in the mountains, because the long bellows was already old and broken down, and is sometimes troubled with a bad cough. As if it mattered much about such vagabonds, when so many respectable people bite the grass, who have more connexion and authority than the adventurer, who wants to play Moonseignor here."

"Aye, truly," said the landlord, "but how goes it though with the Catholics, particularly with the poor clergy, as well as with the old, venerable lord there, who has now fled likewise? Some of them are said to have already arrived at Florac yesterday. The convents too suffer. A wayfarer arrived here in the night, who brought intelligence of an attack on a castle, where several holy women had been on a visit, who may belong to Nismes or Montpellier. Crosses and misery are in the whole land. And whence has the misfortune come? Each party lays the blame on the other."

They set forward again, and those who were placed to keep watch rejoined the troop. A fiery red had spread itself over the whole heavens, as far as the eye could reach, when they emerged from the valley, the sky was illumined with the most singular and varied burning lights. From a wood, situated on an eminence on the left, rushed an aged female attendant, and cried, "Oh, God be praised, that I see royal troops! Help, my good mistress!" she ran back, and led an old nun, who appeared fainting. They approached, they revived her with wine. When the priest heard her family name called, he exclaimed, "Euphemie!" and dropped down before her. It was she, she had escaped with difficulty with her attendant from the burning castle, where she had passed the night in the greatest anguish. The old man told her his name. "Hast thou then at times thought of our youth?" asked he in a trembling voice, "Can one forget life?" replied the dying Euphemie, with closing eyes. "And thou, Edmond?"----"I lived for thee, I die with thee," spoke the aged man, and both expired exhausted by the too strong emotion caused by finding each other again so wonderfully, while the rays of morning shone like a glory on their sanctified features.

Carts which came from Florac, and whose owners heard from Edmond the brief account, conveyed the bodies to the town, that they might be interred in consecrated ground.