Read Online Threads of Silk by Linda Lee Chaikin - Free Book Online
Authors: Linda Lee Chaikin
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with you? Madame will gladly release me if you request I ride with you.”
“I must go alone. Madame needs you here. She too is at risk.”
Romier did not look entirely appeased, but he nodded at the mention of caring for the duchesse. They walked with the guard through the dark courtyard to one of the tributary postern gates.
“Farewell.” Andelot lifted a hand and slipped through the gate into the dark night. The golden bay had been quietly brought from the stables and was tied in the trees, waiting.
Andelot mounted Marquis Fabien’s horse and rode off into the night, alert to avoid notice by guards and soldiers on patrol.
ANDELOT RODE THE GOLDEN BAY beneath the canopy of silvery light from the full moon that sat like a pearl gracing the dark sky. He rode deeper into the woods around Fontainebleau, following the duchesse’s instructions. After a short time he came upon a small log cottage. There, he dismounted and went to the door and knocked with the rapping code the duchesse had given him.
A moment later the door opened, and he was ushered in by a dignified gray-haired man wearing dark, somber clothing. Andelot handed him the lettre from the duchesse. The elderly monsieur read it in silence before his hearth. Andelot recognized a look of pleasure, and even amusement, as the man’s mouth turned up at the corners and he raised his eyes to look more keenly at Andelot. He nodded to himself and beckoned Andelot to follow him into the small cooking room.
He was given food to last him the journey and a change of clothes. Andelot put on the rough peasant’s clothing, and the student of the famous Thauvet became Andelot the serf. The elder smiled at him. “I am the pasteur you rescued that day when the Dominican caught us in the woods near here. Duchesse Dushane tells me you have embraced the redemptive work of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”
Andelot, surprised, remained speechless for a moment, then broke into a smile. “Monsieur, it is you! And to think I expected to leave here and replace the Bible where you hid it under the old log. The Lord has many pleasant surprises for us. Ah, Pasteur, I owe you much — for being able to read the Scriptures in my native French.”
“And I owe you much, Andelot. Your courage that day with the angry cleric has spared my earthly life that I may continue to serve God. I assure you, young messire, that whenever you wish to come to read this Book you will be most welcome. There is much we can discuss concerning the Word of God. We must, as the apostle Paul has written, “rightly divide the Word of truth.”
“ Merci , mon pasteur. I will surely call upon you when I return. But I ask how you knew about me?”
“Duchesse Dushane spoke of you in this lettre. She has sent messages before. I always burn them, for one never knows if the messenger has been followed.”
“Indeed, Pasteur.”
Followed . . . Andelot glanced uneasily toward the cottage door. The wind rattled the windows. He could imagine the broad face of Père Jaymin suddenly appearing.
“I know Madame well, though from afar,” the pasteur said. “She is a firm Huguenot, even as we. She has granted us much assistance and also sends warnings when we may be in more than usual danger.”
Andelot nodded. “The duchesse, oui — but how did she know I had your Bible? I told no one except mon oncle, and I would not have told him except he came upon me reading it.” Andelot told him of the time when he’d nearly been caught reading the Bible and how Sebastien had come to his aid at the precise moment to save him from discovery.
“Madame mentioned that Comte Sebastien had told her of your experience with the Bible. He was concerned for your safety, you see. She mentions that he has escaped with his family. May the Lord grant them a successful voyage to England.”
After they had discussed Sebastien’s escape for a few minutes, Andelot went on to tell him about the upcoming religious colloquy to be held at
“I must go alone. Madame needs you here. She too is at risk.”
Romier did not look entirely appeased, but he nodded at the mention of caring for the duchesse. They walked with the guard through the dark courtyard to one of the tributary postern gates.
“Farewell.” Andelot lifted a hand and slipped through the gate into the dark night. The golden bay had been quietly brought from the stables and was tied in the trees, waiting.
Andelot mounted Marquis Fabien’s horse and rode off into the night, alert to avoid notice by guards and soldiers on patrol.
ANDELOT RODE THE GOLDEN BAY beneath the canopy of silvery light from the full moon that sat like a pearl gracing the dark sky. He rode deeper into the woods around Fontainebleau, following the duchesse’s instructions. After a short time he came upon a small log cottage. There, he dismounted and went to the door and knocked with the rapping code the duchesse had given him.
A moment later the door opened, and he was ushered in by a dignified gray-haired man wearing dark, somber clothing. Andelot handed him the lettre from the duchesse. The elderly monsieur read it in silence before his hearth. Andelot recognized a look of pleasure, and even amusement, as the man’s mouth turned up at the corners and he raised his eyes to look more keenly at Andelot. He nodded to himself and beckoned Andelot to follow him into the small cooking room.
He was given food to last him the journey and a change of clothes. Andelot put on the rough peasant’s clothing, and the student of the famous Thauvet became Andelot the serf. The elder smiled at him. “I am the pasteur you rescued that day when the Dominican caught us in the woods near here. Duchesse Dushane tells me you have embraced the redemptive work of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”
Andelot, surprised, remained speechless for a moment, then broke into a smile. “Monsieur, it is you! And to think I expected to leave here and replace the Bible where you hid it under the old log. The Lord has many pleasant surprises for us. Ah, Pasteur, I owe you much — for being able to read the Scriptures in my native French.”
“And I owe you much, Andelot. Your courage that day with the angry cleric has spared my earthly life that I may continue to serve God. I assure you, young messire, that whenever you wish to come to read this Book you will be most welcome. There is much we can discuss concerning the Word of God. We must, as the apostle Paul has written, “rightly divide the Word of truth.”
“ Merci , mon pasteur. I will surely call upon you when I return. But I ask how you knew about me?”
“Duchesse Dushane spoke of you in this lettre. She has sent messages before. I always burn them, for one never knows if the messenger has been followed.”
“Indeed, Pasteur.”
Followed . . . Andelot glanced uneasily toward the cottage door. The wind rattled the windows. He could imagine the broad face of Père Jaymin suddenly appearing.
“I know Madame well, though from afar,” the pasteur said. “She is a firm Huguenot, even as we. She has granted us much assistance and also sends warnings when we may be in more than usual danger.”
Andelot nodded. “The duchesse, oui — but how did she know I had your Bible? I told no one except mon oncle, and I would not have told him except he came upon me reading it.” Andelot told him of the time when he’d nearly been caught reading the Bible and how Sebastien had come to his aid at the precise moment to save him from discovery.
“Madame mentioned that Comte Sebastien had told her of your experience with the Bible. He was concerned for your safety, you see. She mentions that he has escaped with his family. May the Lord grant them a successful voyage to England.”
After they had discussed Sebastien’s escape for a few minutes, Andelot went on to tell him about the upcoming religious colloquy to be held at
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